#pretend the things on his jacket make sense i literally made them up on the spot

[sea-jello]

lazy very horrible colored thing of kai with the fox miraculous cause i was thinking about my green cousins mlb au

[your-unfriendlyghost]

I have two things to ask:

1.-Can we be friends?

2.-Do you have any Outsiders headcanons (or any that you haven't submitted yet)?

I mean sure?? Idk who you are since you’re on anon, so not REALLY, but I’m always down to talk!

2. Yeah lol- tons. Too many. Here’s a few (okay like 25 oops) off the top of my head lol, some serious/angsty and some lighthearted/kinda stupid without any real order. (Lotta ‘em are about Steve tbh -there’s so little to him in canon that I have the freedom to hc pretty much whatever I want)

Steve Randle’s nearsighted and has no idea, which is why he’s literally always squinting. (I’ve had that one for like months but only recently mentioned it on here lol.) Steve thinks his vision is completely normal

Dally and Sylvia genuinely cared for each other, but they were both so horrible at having healthy emotions that they just made each other worse. In a bad way, not a fun way.

When Steve gets kicked out, sometimes he hangs with Johnny in the lot. They don’t really talk about anything important like their shared experiences of having lousy parents. Instead they talk about cars, girls, music, school…lighthearted stuff. Sometimes Johnny will find Steve crying, which he never mentions- he’ll just sit down as per usual, which Steve appreciates. Steve almost never finds Johnny crying though. Johnny doesn’t cry much.

Okay tangent- I love how Steve and Johnny are low-key foils. Like Steve always seems tough but then cries when pushed to his limit, while Johnny always seems skittish until he’s under a bunch of pressure- in which case he suddenly is confident. (Not necessarily thriving obviously, but confident yk? Like grinning while saving those kids in the fire.) I know SE Hinton probably didn’t intend that at all, but it’s just such an interesting detail to me. One of these days I’ll put it into words better

Johnny’s jeans-jacket is a hand-me-down from either Steve or Two-Bit. (I can’t decide which lol) (obviously Dally would make sense too, but honestly I think it’d add more depth to flesh out Johnny’s relationships with the other members of the gang)

After the events of the book, Two-Bit starts hanging around the Curtis’s place even more. At first the gang assumes he’s trying to lighten the mood. It’s only after he gets sent to the cooler for a month due to drunk driving that they realize he was actually hanging around so much because he was trying to keep his kid sister from seeing him so drunk…

Two-Bit likes to joke that he keeps failing junior year so that him and his sister can graduate together. Which is a very bad idea since his sister is a year younger than Ponyboy.

Sodapop often feels like he’s only good for looking pretty and not all that useful or interesting otherwise. He likes himself, but when he stops to think about it too much, he starts to wonder if he really has anything going for him at all

My H/C for Steve’s home life is that his Mom is sick w/ like cancer or something. Before she got sick, Steve’s life was pretty alright for an eastsider- he and his dad fought, but they always made up for the most part. They weren’t perfect, but they loved each other. But after she got sick, she wasn’t there to mediate between Steve and his Dad anymore, and the fighting got worse and worse. And then Steve’s dad started drinking more and it was pretty downhill from there. Steve’s Dad still loves him, but sometimes Steve wishes that he didn’t. If he didn’t, then he could hate him. But his dad does love him, so he can’t get himself to.

Steve and Dally taught Johnny to drive when they were all like fourteen-fifteen-ish. Johnny is a very reckless driver. He loves speeding.

Johnny also loves fast roller coasters and stuff.

Dally doesn't ‘cuz he’s low-key scared of heights- he likes riding broncos and rodeos, but put him at the top of a roller coaster and he’s convinced that it’s gonna break and he’s gonna die. He pretends he doesn’t mind. The only people who know he’s scared of them are Johnny, and before she died, Mrs. Curtis.

Steve has a napoleon complex. Johnny, who is shorter than him by a few inches, likes to bully him for it sometimes

Ponyboy and Cherry don’t interact much in the school year after the book, but in the summer after, they start to hang out. Eventually they become pretty close. They fangirl over Paul Newman together

Ponyboy still doesn’t let Cherry read his theme though until years later

Marcia and Two-Bit re-meet a few months after the book. (Two-Bit is really scared that she’s embarrassed to be dating him, and Marcia is really scared that he’s embarrassed to be dating her. Neither of them are embarrassed. They both adore each other.)

Two-Bit likes to watch Marcia barrel racing. One time while he’s there, he runs into Ponyboy watching Cherry barrel race and immediately tells everyone much to Pony’s chagrin

Evie knows a little bit about cars, and she sometimes helps out at the DX during summers. Steve is so whipped for her lol (and Soda too Steve has two hands)

Evie and Sylvia are besties, but Steve and Sylvia hate each other. They act civil in front of Evie, but as soon as her back is turned they’re growling at each other like dogs. (Well Steve is. Sylvia just acts condescending as hell. Sometimes it goes over his head, so Steve knows she’s insulting him but isn’t sure what the insult is/means. Which makes Steve kinda want to kill her.)

Steve and Soda are low-key co-dependent. (Steve more so- Soda has his family at least, while to Steve, Soda and Evie are his whole world pretty much) It’s probably not super healthy, and both of them are vaguely aware of that, but are trying not to think about it too hard rn

Ponyboy’s friend group in high school consists of Curly Shepard, Mark Jennings, Scout Jenkins (from the tv show), and eventually, in her senior year, Cherry Valance. (There’s others too but those are the main ones.)

Pony dates Cathy Carlson for a while too, idk if they’re good for each other or not- I kinda like the idea of them being a sweet couple tbh, but no one else on here seems to care about them so I haven’t really explored the idea much lol

In a Dally lives au, Mark Jennings and Dally end up spending a bit of time together through Pony, and at some point they realize that they’re half-brothers lol. Mark is a deeply obnoxious little brother to have, and he drives Dally nuts on purpose. Weirdly I think Dally’s a relatively good influence on him, as much as someone like Dally can be. And Dally does care for Mark, though not as much as he cares for Johnny- Mark is, in his head, not exactly his responsibility.

Well I have (so many) more, but I think that’s enough for now lol. Point is, even though I haven’t drawn in a minute, I love these characters and their romanticized version of 1960s Tulsa so much and I think about them way too often lol

(dw once i get more into the swing of school I’ll be doin more art!)

[lunarw0rks]

Old Bones | Chapter Two

Summary: After fleeing a toxic relationship, you fear for your safety and hire a bodyguard. He's masked, impassible, and damn good at what he does. | Word Count: 2.2k

Warning(s): implied physical abuse, PTSD themes, panic attacks, very mild hurt/comfort, descriptions of mild violence

A/N: Cherry Wine by Hoizer inspired this chapter. It's so them. I hope this isn't too lackluster, I'm trying to establish things before sh*t hits the fan.

꒦꒷ MAIN MASTERLIST ꒷꒦ GHOST MASTERLIST // have a request? ♡¸.•*' ⋆ ⚘ 🕊 ˚✧ ₊˚ʚ prev. chapter | next chapter | playlist | ao3 ver. ꒦꒷ O.B MASTERLIST

Cherry Wine

To your surprise, he’d stayed in the chair most of the night, probably only dozing off for short periods of time in between. Here you were, in a life-or-death situation, and you were feeling like a burden for troubling the man who was just doing his job.

You were debating if the stress had finally turned your brain to mush, and maybe it’s messing with the wiring because nothing lately has made any sense to you.

“I can stay up every other night if you need the sleep?” You hand him a mug of tea, not giving him the chance to refuse it this time. Besides, he didn’t have many options—your pantry was as empty and sad as the rest of your place.

He reluctantly takes it, shifting awkwardly in the armchair. The mug is practically swallowed by his large hand, daring you to laugh at the sight of it.

“You’re more likely to be attacked at night.” He grumbles, taking a small sip of the tea, and then looking at it in disapproval like you’d chosen the wrong brand.

He doesn’t bother to reassure you, nothing like that. You know what he’s doing—distancing himself, that way this agreement stays clean.

“I guess it’s just… Strange for me. You, here, and I don’t know anything about you.” How were you supposed to trust his skills if you don’t even know his name?

“Nothing you need to know about me,” he grouses, peering through hooded lids, “just like I don’t need to know why you’re still wearing that ring with no husband here. Let’s keep it that way.”

Your chest tightened at the mention of him, finding your fingers fiddling with the ring. The engagement ring you’d swear was thorned so you can’t slip it off. You nod at his words, despite the questions you have for him still deafening.

He finishes off his mug and grunts from the stiffness of his limbs. He’d been waiting for you to get up, staying idle the entire night, like he’d been trained. It never got easier, and frankly, he was shaking with anticipation. He got so used to the combat and firefights—playing babysitter was more excruciating than negotiating a hostage situation.

“I have some shopping to do.” Your words rip him away from the blank stare he has on the dripping faucet, forcing him to straighten his posture and respond.

He pulls up the hood of his jacket, and the last thing you hear is the jingling of his truck keys and the shutting of your front door.

—

Click.

This time, it’s your own fingers that unlock the door to his truck. He leans against the seat for a few months and a hefty sigh leaves his lips as he kills the ignition. Once you’ve climbed out of the truck, he’s tailing you, arms rest eager at his sides—for anything or anyone.

Though you scurry inside to shield your clothes from the rain, he stays a few feet behind, merely blinking away the droplets that fall onto his lashes.

You only bother to look behind you a few times, as if to assure yourself you literally have him watching your back, and he always is. Pretending to snoop through items, picking up and “reading” labels. You nearly scoffed at how conspicuous he was—he stood out so intensely, especially with the mask disguising his true features.

You only grab the things you need, things that can be stuffed into your luggage at any time—canned foods, non-perishables, the things you’ve been living off for months.

You’ve got your depressing rations now, and you’re making your way to the neverending shelves of booze. Usually, you wouldn’t bother with the stuff, but one bottle can’t hurt.

Besides it’s another weapon for your arsenal; the file cabinet of horrible scenarios you worked out in your head. What you’d reach for when that horrible fate of a man catches up to you.

He finds his way inside the apartment and you’ve been cornered. What are you grabbing to defend yourself?

Bathroom, it’s the toilet lid if you’re quick enough. The bedroom, it’s the vase the last tenant left behind—thick enough to bludgeon any intruder. But now, you’ve arrived at the kitchen without any knives handy. Surely, a hefty bottle of whiskey could do the trick.

You grab the first one you see—a bottle of Kentucky bourbon. The bottle with the most grip on the neck of it; surely something you could use if you needed to.

Next, it’s the champagne and wine section; out of your price range, as well as an aisle you avoid at all costs. You lay eyes on the bottle he bought during your first date, some gaudy fancy restaurant that felt like compensation for his lack of soul. Disingenuous, and a cover-up for the temper he had.

It was a cherry wine—an attractive bottle with gold finishes, but inside was a dreadful bitterness. The taste of it was something you had to wash away with multiple swallows of water. You didn’t have the heart to show it at the time. The sight of it puts that awful taste back in your mouth—not only the wine, the taste of him too.

A gorgeous bottle with garnishes, but the liquid inside was bitter and chronic with absolutely no hint of the juicy cherries painted on the label. The irony of it made you want to scoff—the deceptiveness carried its way from his heart to the wine he first shared with you.

It was the first lashing he gave you; the only one that didn’t end in blood or bruises, just one you were too tipsy to acknowledge.

He watches from afar, noticing that freeze again, just like the one you do every time you look at the stars. This time, it’s something with the wine in front of you. He closes in a bit, putting down whatever item he was pretending to inspect. Now, he’s only a few feet from you, fingers playing with the knife he keeps hidden in the front pocket.

You nearly forgot he was there until you turned back around, realizing you’d been spaced out for God knows how long at some damn wine bottles.

You want to clear your throat, give him a nod and keep walking, but the walk down memory lane was going to take a few minutes to recover from. Your body can’t tell the difference between thinking he’s there, and him actually being. Either way, your hands clam up and you’re covered with goosebumps.

Your face is a few shades paler when you catch a glimpse of it in the reflection, and your eyes are glossy. A state you’re far too familiar with by now.

Large hands have snaked around your waist, as the voice of a patron comes and goes.

“Excuse me, sorry.” His tone is innocent enough, and his touch only lingers for a few moments as he squeezes through the narrow aisle. You turn your head, seeing only the stranger’s backside.

His head of hair is something you’d recognize anywhere. It can’t be him. Not here, not this soon. He’s gone already, shopping somewhere on the other side of the store. It wasn’t him, your rational side knew that, but the side just causing you to zone out didn’t.

The basket is on the floor, and you’re sitting on the linoleum, head in your hands. It felt so much like him and looked the part too. You’re heaving now, mind only filled with pictures of his tightened expression, when you were on the dining room floor with the wind knocked out of you—that damn expression he always had, like you were dirt on his shoes.

When you look around, you’re not in that dining room, you’re a puddle in the middle of the supermarket, making a scene.

No sign of the man your brain is taunting you with. Just your bodyguard, who would be in the car driving away right now if he could. But instead, he’s clasped your arm, forcing you to your feet.

“Are you mad?” He hisses into your ear, looking at the faces of concerned shoppers around you two.

He grabs the basket and rushes you to the door, forcing you to make your scene outside while he buys the groceries you’ve already forgotten about.

He’s out of there in a minute, having just put a few large bills on the checkout counter and bagged the items himself. Your palms are resting on the hood of his truck, both the rain and your tears clouding your vision. You can’t calm yourself, not for the life of you.

He drops the plastic bag of groceries onto the cement, gripping both sides of your face, forcing you to look at the reality in front of you. No raging ex-husband, no immediate threat, just him and you in the parking lot.

He’s been trained for this, only typically it’s another soldier experiencing shell shock. Meeting your eyes has done nothing to ground you, so he has to go firmer to snap you out of it. He restricts your wrists with one hand, while the other holds the back of your head, forcing you against his chest. He’s only seen it once, how sometimes the pressure of one’s arms around the sufferer will reduce the heart rate back to normal.

You struggle at first, trying to get out of the hold, but the energy fades quickly. Soon, you’re just panting in between sobs. Everything in you wants to get out of this awkward hold, but your body doesn’t lie. Whatever response training he used on you, it stopped an awful panic attack that otherwise would’ve taken you hours to soothe.

When you’ve finally gone silent, and it’s just the view of your cheek squished against his chest, he lets you out. “Mind telling me what the hell that was?” He hands you your groceries and opens the passenger for you.

“I thought it was him… he was just so close to me—” Your speech has reduced to barely audible stammers, even after your breathing is back to regular.

As much as he’s trying to keep professional, he’s not completely void of compassion. The missing pieces to your story have begun to fall into place now. He had an idea before, but now the grim reality of what you might’ve been through had slapped him across the face.

The echoes of his past are swatted away quickly. How personal this situation was for him didn’t make a difference.

“I know. But it wasn’t him.” His attempts to remain cold are unwavering, despite seeing so much of your vulnerability at once.

“Let’s go back.”

Your trembling legs struggle to climb into the truck, but they make it nonetheless. He’s reserved for most of the ride back, only glancing at you briefly every minute, yet you keep your eyes glued to the windshield. There was nothing to say. The humiliation of your scene in the store was more punishment than any unsympathetic pities he attempted.

—

The bags are set on your empty counters with a sigh. He places the items into your pantry and then notices the bottle of Kentucky. He takes it out, examining the label. It was his favorite, lucky for him.

“Leave that on the counter.” You speak up, having been watching the whole time. He sets it back down, not even bothering to question your reasons.

He exits the kitchen and claims the armchair again, hands on each of his thighs like the first time you saw him. Stoic and unbothered, like usual.

“How much cash do you need for the groceries?” You’re rifling through the bills in your wallet.

“No need.” He sighs, holding that scowl until you put your wallet away. If he’d just give you an inch, perhaps conversations wouldn’t be this unbearable. You learned your lesson this morning—he wants anonymity. That’s very clear.

Beyond the mask, he’s fighting himself.

He was closed-off—not a complete barbarian. The sight of you crumbling before him was bothering him. He’s not thinking of this as a protection job, just another contract to see through, and then he moves on. Something in your wide-eyed expression before pushed back on that stubbornness.

He was in it now, in it deep, whether he liked it or not. Too far in to resist his doggedness much longer.

It was midday, the perfect time for him to catch up on his lost sleep. The golden sunset peaking through the blinds nearly made your apartment look liveable. He finds his footing and is soon standing over your seated frame.

You give a nod of approval, letting him know you’ll handle yourself in the meantime. If anything were to happen during his nap, he’d have his gun drawn in an instant, which he was sure of.

When he reaches the hall, his hand is hovering over the doorknob of the room you’d set up. His voice makes you turn to look at him. His gaze is somehow softer, at least partially resembling a functioning human being for once.

“Simon,” he declares, losing eye contact now that he’s spoken.

Your brows tighten, not expecting him to answer the questions you’d asked him hours before. Or ever, for that matter.

He had no choice but to give in because there was a bond now: the protector and the protectee.

“The name’s Simon.”

TAGLIST: @random-thot-generator @littleobsessionsandlifeslessons

[nichoswag]

hiii !! i love your writing so much omg🥲🥲 can I request a jo oneshot (f!reader) where the reader is at a convenience store and some older guy starts to prey on her (does that make sense ? 😭) and the reader doesn’t know what to do until she sees jo and asks him to pretend to be her bf or maybe she gives him hints that she’s in need of help. after the guy leaves maybe jo and the reader could exchange numbers or smth ? JDJDJD my english is so bad so idk if that even made sense im so sorry if it didnt 😭 also its totally okay if you’re not comfortable with writing this! im just in need of more jo oneshots (&team oneshots in general) they’ve been stuck in my head for so long 🥲

safe . asakura jo

pairing: stranger!jo x female reader

warnings: stalking, reader is being followed, creepy man, typical saved from a stalker scenario, jo is a total sweetheart, angst and fluff, petnames (babe, pretty)

song rec: young luv - stayc

a/n: sorry for the wait anon. and your english is perfectly fine, i understood it fully! i also feel you so much on the lack of &t content on this app! maybe i'll start doing fic recs to provide you guys with more works by other amazing authors i love!! also, this is a great request and i enjoyed writing it so much!!! enjoy ♡

it's a dark, cold night. the sun set around three hours ago, so it's getting to be pretty late into the night.

you walk down the street clutching your jacket closer to your body, shoulders pulled nearly up to your ears.

that's when you hear footsteps behind you.

the first thing that's odd about this is the fact that this is a route you take home often, and you've literally never run into anyone at this time of night due to the roads all being side streets.

as a normally anxious person, you think of what you've been taught to do in this situation- the most common trick. you take three right turns in a row, not getting lost since you know the roads well. however, even as you come back to where you first heard the footsteps behind you, you can still hear them, and they sound as if they're coming closer.

you panic at this point, speeding up until you're nearly running. the footsteps become faster and louder to match your pace.

you make a sharp turn into a convenience store, but the man follows you inside. noticing the cashier looks like a teen who would likely not be of much help, you settle for heading towards the tall guy in the back near the drinks.

as you get near him, you grab his sleeve, effectively startling him. "did you wait for a long time?" he looks extremely confused. you have to lean up on your toes as much as possible to get closer to his ear because he's so much taller than you. you do so and explain the situation in a whisper as the man walks into the aisle behind you.

he quickly looks concerned and holds your hand, seeming to realize he should play along. "i didn't wait long at all, pretty."

you smile up at him, eternally grateful. you think to yourself that you owe him severely if you ever meet again.

"do you want something to drink?" he asks, seeming to really get into the boyfriend role. still holding your hand tightly, he steps back and gestures to the fridge area for you to pick.

"you don't have to do that, babe," you say, blushing a bit.

"no, no, go ahead. you should really drink something," he insists. "you've been walking for a while, you must be thirsty."

you tilt your head, not sure if he's serious or just playing the role well. he nods his head. you pick out a drink you like and he takes it from your hand and picks out his own drink as well. he walks towards the front of the store still holding your hand.

he looks back at the man who was following you to find him already staring, but he doesn't make any move to come closer to the two of you.

after the nice guy checks out, you both walk out of the store.

"would you like me to walk you home?" he asks. "just to be safe."

you contemplate for a moment before nodding. "i live near here, so it's not that far of a walk. thank you so much for this- and the drink, too."

you both begin to walk in the direction of your house, still hand-in-hand.

"of course," he smiles sweetly. "i hate how careful ladies have to be walking around nowadays... it's crazy that something bad could happen to you even in your own neighborhood."

you huff. "tell me about it. i've only been followed like this a few times, but i hear it happens to a lot of girls my age."

he sighs. "it's ridiculous. oh, i'm jo, by the way."

you smile up at him. "i like that name. i'm ____."

"pretty name for a pretty girl," he cheeses.

you cringe, giggling. "thanks for the compliment, but that was so corny."

he laughs. "i know- i realized after i said it."

you talk and laugh the whole way home, up until you get to your house. you didn't even mean to let him walk you the whole way home, you would've stopped him at the start of your street, but you kind of lost track, being so distracted.

"well, this is it." you turn towards him, finally letting go of his hand. "again, thank you so much. i don't know what i would have done if you hadn't helped me."

he smiles shyly, his face flushed. "no problem. could i maybe get your number? you can text or call me next time something like this happens. i live just down the street, so i'll come running."

you blush, taking his phone to add yourself as a contact. "you're really cute. maybe we could just hang out sometime, no creepy man involved?"

he chuckles. "yeah- that'd be nice."

you say your goodbyes. he watches until you get to your door to make sure you make it inside okay before you see him leave through your window.

you blush as you think of the whole interaction again.

thank you, jo, you think. for making me feel safe.

©nichoswag | do not copy my work or repost onto any other platform.

[kdogreads]

Perfect Strangers

Dean x Reader smut

Summary: You wander into your favorite bar to relax after a long day. When a tall, dark and handsome hunter walks in, you end up in his car making questionable decisions.

TW: Alcohol, spanking, car sex; please let me know anything else

Word count: 3225 (oops lol)

A/N: I got a little carried away on this one. Please let me know if there are any mistakes and all feedback is welcome! Enjoy at your own risk ;)

—————————————————-

The only thing you could think about right now was how desperately you wanted a damn drink. This last demon hunt really kicked your ass — literally. The demon knocked you on your butt during the fight and it was really damn sore; not that you’d admit that to anyone. You pulled into your favorite dive bar and let out a sigh of relief. Finally, a chance to relax.

You recognized some of the cars there as other hunters. This was a hunter hotspot, after all. Friends, colleagues, and perfect strangers alike all gathered here to pretend they were normal people with normal jobs for a few hours, just like anyone else. Or they’d just drink enough to think they really did work a 9-5, until they stumbled outside mumbling about spirits and vamps and dead man’s blood.

You swung open the squeaky, rusted door and watched all the heads turn to see who was coming in now. Some nodded your way, a few gave small waves or smiles, and the rest just turned back to their own conversations. A peeling barstool off on its own was calling your name and you made your way over to settle in for the evening.

“What’s your poison tonight, (y/n)?” The friendly bartender you’d come to know asked as you took your jacket off and threw it over the stool.

“Long island, please, Frank,’’ You smiled at the weathered man. He wasn’t a hunter, but he knew enough to welcome them in, not ask too many questions, and keep their drinks full.

“That bad, huh?” He smiled at you, reaching for the many bottles needed.

“You don’t want to know, my friend.” You let out a chuckle and ran a hand through your y/h/c hair, tucking it behind your ear.

“You got that right,” Frank said with a wink, “Let me know when you’re ready for another.” He slid your drink across the counter and headed off to tend to his other patrons.

You sipped the potent liquid and felt yourself relax. Classic rock and old country music played quietly from the jukebox, lulling you to someplace else in some other life.

Just as you finished the last of your first drink, Frank slid another one your way, and you heard the familiar squeak of the front door opening. This time, you joined the crowd and turned to see who had wondered their way in.

Two tall, tired-looking men in blue jeans and flannel shirts — undeniably hunters — stepped through the door into the smoky room. A tight smile crept across the taller one’s face, acknowledging he was a friend of the cause. He nodded ambiguously before tucking into a booth in the corner and opening up a beat-up laptop. The other man, still tall but slightly shorter than the other, headed straight to the bar and looked for an open spot. Naturally, the only open seat was right next to you. Great.

The handsome man nodded slightly as he threw a bowed leg over the stool just inches from you.

Frank made his way over and greeted the man. He raised an eyebrow your way, silently asking if you were okay. You smiled slightly in response, so Frank lightened up and made small talk with the mystery man. He returned shortly with his order, bottom-shelf whiskey on the rocks, and it fell quiet again in your little corner of the world. Nothing but the smooth sounds of Bob Seger’s voice filled your ears. That is, until you felt a pair of eyes on you and another smooth, deep voice invaded your senses.

“How do you drink that sugary shit?” The voice boomed loudly, but not demandingly. Just making conversation.

“How do you drink that gut-rotting shit?” You questioned back. The man chuckled.

“Fair enough,” he conceded and raised his glass towards you. Your glasses clinked together and you both sipped your medication of choice for the night.

“Dean,” he offered, turning slightly in his chair towards you.

“Y/n,” you smiled.

“Nice to meet you, y/n.” Dean flashed a heartbreaking smile, eyes crinkling in the corners and nostrils flaring out just slightly. It was only then you noticed how pleasant his musk of leather and gunpowder was.

You spent the next few minutes sharing stories of a long day of travel and your beloved cars, both old Chevys, and how content you were to be here, drinking your thoughts away.

The minutes grew longer and, before you knew it, it had been nearly three hours and nearing 1 o’clock in the morning.

Dean was devastatingly charming — offering kind and sarcastic comments intermixed, light taps on your arm when telling a funny story, and hunting war stories, some satisfying and some really, really dark.

It was in the middle of his tale about battles with Lucifer, the literal devil, you felt the drinks catching up to you and you excused yourself to the bathroom. Not realizing just how many you’d had, you felt a bit unsteady upon rising from your wobbling barstool. Dean gripped your arm to keep you from tumbling over.

“Easy there, tiger. Didn’t find your sea legs yet, huh?” Dean shook his head and let out a light laugh watching you try your hardest to keep your balance.

“Watch it, Dean. I could still kick your ass right now. Don’t try me,” you spat back playfully having gained enough awareness in your limbs to stand on your own.

Dean threw his hands up in surrender, motioning for you to head in the direction of the bathroom.

“Well,” you began after clearing your throat, “If you feel you must accompany me to the restroom to ensure my vertical integrity, please don’t let me stop you.” You sloppily strung the colorful sentence together, giggling in the middle of your performance.

“Yes, ma’am,” Dean let out a hearty laugh and stood up next to you, offering his arm to hook yours into, “Your humble servant.”

You giggled the whole way to the bathroom, weaving a winding path down the otherwise straight hallway. You arrived at the small, dimly-lit “ladies room” sign and your escort paused in front of it.

“Now, Dean, you and your nice, firm biceps will have to wait for me out here,” you squeezed the muscular arm keeping you upright and let out yet another girlish laugh.

“I’ll be right out here, sweetheart,” Dean smiled and shook his head, opening the wooden door for you.

You raised your brows at the ‘sweetheart’ comment, and smiled what you intended to be an alluring smile, but didn’t feel confident you’d conveyed anything but a drunken smirk.

You took care of what you needed to, likely taking much longer than intended and banging into the walls a bit more often than usual. As you washed your hands, the warm water felt nice over your cold hands and made a chill dance up your back, pulling you slightly back into the sober world.

Outside the door, Dean patiently waited, chuckling with every thud against the wall. He smiled at you as you swung the door open again and stepped your way back into the dark hallway.

“Feel better?” He questioned, offering his arm back out to you.

“Much better, but I am too old to be out this late,” you responded, now feeling the alcohol dragging gravity down on your body at a much heavier rate than normal.

Dean laughed and nodded in agreement, “Right there with you, sweetheart. Let me take you home.”

There he goes throwing “sweethearts” around again. It made your stomach flutter a little more this time.

Typically, you would never agree to get into a strange’s man car, but having passed your sneaky monster tests — a dash of holy water in his glass when he went to the bathroom, brushing his skin with your silver ring, watching as his arm rested on the iron rivets in Frank’s bar top — Dean seemed all human, and humans you could deal with. You were certain he’d tested you, too, without your knowledge. If he were as good a hunter as he sounded, he better have.

“Alright, taxi man, but if you turn out to be a serial killer or some kind of weirdo, I’m not a very willing victim,” you offered back playfully, “I’ll bite back.”

“I’d expect nothing less,” Dean responded, a different, deeper tone to his voice. You felt a smile creep across your face as you imagined what he might be thinking.

You both stopped to pay your tabs and said goodnight to Frank. He smiled an inquisitive smile your way and you rolled your eyes in response.

You stepped into the cool night air with Dean, questioning the decisions that got you to this point, but not really caring.

He led you through the parking lot to his stunning classic car. You stood still a moment, taking in her shine in the moonlight.

“Baby, y/n. Y/n, Baby,” Dean motioned to you and to the car. Clearly, he loved this hunk of metal a whole lot more than you did your old rust bucket.

“Lovely to meet you, Baby. So sorry our first meeting will include me climbing inside of you.”

Dean laughed at your bold introduction. “She doesn’t mind,” he replied. You weren’t sure if he was flirting with you or the car, but you were entertained nonetheless.

He walked around to open the passenger side door for you. You felt a sense of nervousness as you climbed into her bench seat, followed immediately by a rush of excitement, not knowing what was in store for you next.

The interior smelled just like Dean had a few hours ago. Leather, gunpowder, and sexual tension. You felt tingles in your stomach and a warmth between your thighs as the anticipation grew for Dean to climb in next to you.

“Ah, some music?” Dean reached for the dial as soon as the engine roared to life. You jumped at the slam of his door, but relaxed again when the familiar opening notes of Bruce Springsteen’s “I’m on Fire” danced through the speakers. The growing melody made your heart beat faster than before.

“Where to, Miss Daisy?” Dean asked.

“Here,” you answered, turning so your whole body faced Dean. You slid over the seat to place your cool hand on his warm forearm.

“What do you- Oh,” Dean began, placing his large hand over yours, “You’re sure, y/n? That’s what you want?”

“Yes, Dean, this is what I want. And you?” You raised another hand to the top of his buttoned-up shirt, panting into his ear, your mouth now inches from him, and circled a finger around the top button. “Do you want me, Dean?”

“Oh yes I do,” Dean hissed and placed his free hand on the back of your neck, pulling your mouth to his.

Your lips crashed together, eagerly opening and closing together in a fast rhythm. Dean’s tongue worked its way into your mouth, searching around your bottom teeth and your tongue. You started working on the buttons of his flannel, moving frantically to pull the constricting garment off him.

Now in a plain t-shirt, he looked even more enticing to you. Biceps glistening in the yellowish glow of the street lamps, he easily grabbed your hips and pulled you into his lap.

Straddling his legs, you could feel his large member growing more and more solid under your wet core. You grinded into him and a deep groan escaped from his chest.

“God, y/n, you are so beautiful,” Dean hissed into your skin, placing rough kisses along your jaw and neck.

He reached a hand down to cup your round ass before reaching under you to rub your dripping core through your jeans. You let out a moan and panted as you sat up taller, allowing him a further reach. The friction of his hand on your clit nearly made you cum already.

You could hardly take it anymore. You wanted Dean inside of you so desperately.

Dipping back down to kiss his lips again, you undid the button of your jeans and Dean did the same.

Suddenly, Dean pushed you over his shoulder and yanked your jeans down your thighs. He hesitated for a moment to put his hands around your ass and let out a low, “Fuck.”

“Have you been a bad girl, y/n?” Dean growled into your skin, rubbing small circles over your ass and thigh while his other strong arm wrapped around your waist to hold you firmly in place.

“Dean!” You shrieked, the cool air swirling around your wet folds made you forget for a moment what you were about to say. “What if someone walks by?”

“They’re drunk,” he hissed, planting a small bite on your exposed hip, “Now answer me.” He tightened his grip on the sensitive skin just under your full hips, gliding achingly closer to your throbbing core. Your worry melted away, just wanting Dean to touch you.

“Yes,” You panted, “Yes Dean.” Anticipation growing deep in your body. You inhaled sharply as his large hand landed roughly on your skin.

“I knew you were, my dirty slut,” Dean hissed, landing another spank on your ass, followed by a slow rub, “Already so wet for me, too, huh?”

You groaned as another smack, and another, and another stung your throbbing skin. Each blow sent a surge of hotness through your veins, making you wetter and wetter. He peeled back just one leg of your jeans, but it was more than enough to give you the freedom you needed.

Dean finally lowered you back into his lap, kissing you eagerly and rubbing the sting away with his rough, careful hands.

He lifted the two of you up slightly as you pulled his jeans down enough to free his rock-hard cock. You gripped it tightly with one hand while the other tangled into Dean’s hair. You stroked him slowly at first, then faster as he let low growls escape from his chest.

He grabbed at your hair and your ass, growing more and more eager to feel the warm walls inside you.

Dean let out another string of curse words before grabbing the sides of your face and pulling your face to his, kissing you softer than before, but somehow even hungrier to feel you around him.

You lined your dripping entrance up with him and slowly sank down until your thighs met his and you both let out deep moans. He filled you completely and stretched your walls further than ever before. Dean’s strong hands grabbed your hips and carefully lifted you up, allowing you to adjust to his size inside you, before pushing you back down with more force this time.

You grabbed onto the seat back behind Dean and braced yourself to bounce up and down on his hard cock, slamming into your sweet spot with every thrust. He left his hands on your hips, but let you take the lead, eager to see what you could do to him.

“Fuck, y/n,” Dean panted between your thrusts, “Fuck, you ride that cock so good.”

You let a smirk grow across your lips and he grabbed a handful of your hair and pulled your head back roughly.

“Dean,” you whined, “You feel so good inside me.” You felt the pressure rising in your core, Dean’s grip on your body causing him to hit just the right spot over and over.

“Cum for me, baby. Cum all over me.”

His words sent tingles over your clit, sending you over the edge. The hotness of an orgasm took over your body, taking over your senses with shockwaves of pleasure. You shook in Dean’s lap as your walls clenched around him. He guided you up and down, riding out the frantic waves of pleasure with you.

Dean groaned deep in his throat as your walls released him slightly, making him desperate for more of you. He shoved you down, filling you up with his hardness, and ground your hips into his.

Your nails dug into his back as Dean rolled you forward and back, the friction on your clit making you moan and breathe out, “Dean- fuck. I-I’m gonna cum.” Your warm breath rolling over his face, sending a shiver down his spine.

“Dean, please don’t stop,” you barely spat out, shocks of pleasure coursing through your body.

Feeling your walls tightening again, Dean slid his hand between your bodies, rubbing your clit with his rough fingers. The changing in sensation sent you bucking frantically into another orgasm. You saw stars as the waves overtook you and you felt Dean release deep inside you, spilling out the warm liquid into your walls and filling you to your limit. The spasms of both of your muscles intensify each other’s sensations while Dean pulls you closer to him, gripping tightly onto your lower back.

Both of your bodies start to relax as the final shockwaves of pleasure rush through you. Gently, your forehead lands on his and a smile grows across his face. He brushes your messy y/h/c off your cheek.

“Damn, y/n, you wanted that bad, huh?” Dean teased before meeting his lips to yours for a deep, slow kiss.

“Screw you, Winchester,” you spat back playfully, smacking Dean on the shoulder and shaking your head.

“You already did,” he winked and planted a light tap on your back.

You let out a laugh and began to swing your leg over to take your place back in the passenger seat.

“Hey,” Dean grabbed your hips, stopping your momentum, “That was fun, sweetheart. I love picking you up at bars.” He planted a sweet kiss on your lips.

“And I love going home with you every time,” A smile crept further across your lips with every word and you returned another soft kiss before climbing back into the passenger seat, pulling jeans back over your legs. You slid Dean’s flannel over your shoulders, suddenly chilly without his body to warm yours.

“Come ‘ere,” Dean whispered, gliding his arm around you and pulling you to his chest. His strong heartbeat lulled you into a relaxed state of contentment.

“Let’s go home,” Dean kissed your forehead, “I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to sleep until tomorrow afternoon.”

You sighed and nodded as Dean slid his arm out from behind you to put the car in reverse.

“Wait,” You began, “Sam?” Remembering the younger Winchester had walked in with his brother.

“I gave him your keys when you were in the bathroom. He was smart enough not to ask any questions.”

“Ah, of course,” You laughed and laid your head on Dean’s shoulder, ready to go back to the bunker the three of you shared and settle in for the night.

It wasn’t the first time you and Dean pretended to be perfect strangers engaging in an alcohol-fueled one night stand, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. The excitement kept your intense and dangerous life together, killing monsters and exorcizing demons, feeling a bit more like a ‘normal’ relationship, strangely enough.

For now, though, you were happy to be on your way back to the arsenal of the unknown you called home and sleep next to your Dean until tomorrow brought you another creature needing killed.

Join my tag list! Thank you so much for the love ❤️ @this-is-me19

[sequinsmile-x]

Even Statues Crumble if They’re Made to Wait - Part 2

She can't stop thinking about the fact she isn't even meant to be here. That she's still supposed to be at home on maternity leave instead of sitting in a church in Colorado wondering if she'd ever see her husband or her little girl again.

A Minimal Loss AU with a Young Hotchniss twist.

Part 2/4

Part 1

-x-

Hi friends,

thanks for the love on part one!!

Since I have the self control of a toddler with access to a credit card in literally all aspects of my life, this fic is now 4 parts, not 3. Originally this was going to go back and forth between Emily and Aaron's perspective, but then I was at over 4k with just Emily's...so I decided to split them!

Part 3 and 4 will be up over the weekend <3

Let me know what you think!

-x-

Words: 4k

Warnings: Emily Prentiss whump, canon typical violence, descriptions of violence

Read over on A03, or below the cut

April 1995 

She blows out a slow breath as she looks at herself in the mirror, her hands slightly shaky as she smoothes out the material of her black dress, making sure there were no obvious creases. 

“Sweetheart, are you almost ready to go?” 

She looks at him in the mirror, their eyes meeting from where he is standing several paces behind her, and she shrugs, “I don’t know.” 

It was more honest than she felt she should be, but he’d never judged her for anything. He’d never done anything other than love her and she was too exhausted, emotionally and physically from the last couple of weeks, to even try and pretend she wanted to hide anything from him. He made everything calmer, softer. Just having him in the same room brought her a sense of peace she was once sure she’d never get to experience. Even today, on one of the hardest days of her life so far, he made her feel better. She did the same for him. She was his port in a storm just as much as he was hers. Their relationship had always had this kind of give and take, a relentless type of love for each other that she now isn’t sure she could ever live without. 

“Mom is going to be…” she blows out a shaky breath and it catches in her throat, aching as it escapes as a humourless laugh, “She’s going to be difficult today,” she turns and looks at him, her arms crossed over her chest, “When she grieves she lashes out. When my grandfather died she was awful,” she presses her lips together in an attempt to stop them from trembling, “She told me I was a disappointment when I snuck a couple of drinks at the funeral,” she wipes a tear from her cheek, “Told me I was a disappointment to Granddad too,” she shakes her head as a sob break breaks free, loud and painful as she covers her face with her hands, “How ridiculous is that? I’m burying my dad today and I’m thinking about what my mom is going to say.” 

The way her face crumples, her strong hold on her emotions giving way in front of him, makes him move, finally stepping towards her from where he had been rooted to the spot. He wraps his arms around her, pulling her close as she collapses against him. She grasps the back of his jacket, grabbing fistfuls of it in a way he knows will crease it but he doesn’t care. He cups the back of her head, his blunt nails scratching lightly at her scalp as he shushes her, his lips against her forehead. 

“I’m right here, Em,” he assures her, running his hand up and down her back, “And I’ll be right with you the whole time,” he says, pulling back to look at her. He wipes a tear from her cheek, his touch so gentle it makes her ache, “You don’t have to do things like this alone anymore,” he smiles at her, the half smile she loves so much, “It’s one of the upsides of having a husband who’s entirely obsessed with you.” 

She chokes out a laugh and nods, the brief moment of joy, of happiness, all too fleeting as she rests her forehead on his shoulder. “Thank you.” 

“For what, sweetheart?” He asks, his hand still running up and down her back. She pulls back to look at him again and smiles sadly, leaning in to stamp her lips quickly against him.

“For loving me enough to make me laugh on a day like today.” 

He kisses her cheek, “Always.”

It’s as hard as she thought it would be. She feels like she’s on display, her grief a grim sideshow that everyone wants to see a moment of. She sits between her mother and Aaron in the pew, her eyes fixed on her father’s casket, tears she couldn’t stop burning paths down her cheeks, sticky and warm as they slip down her neck. 

The day mostly passes in a blur as people she recognises but doesn’t remember the names of pass on their condolences, stories about her father echoing around them all, their versions of him so different to her own. She just about bites her tongue when Elizabeth introduces her and Aaron to an old friend, someone Emily hadn’t seen since she was young, and manages to mention that they’d eloped a year and a half ago. A sad smile fixed on her face as she lamented it meant her husband had never got the chance to give away his only daughter. 

Emily had stepped away after that, her smile as tight as Aaron’s grip on her as she excused herself to give herself a minute, guilt she knew she shouldn’t feel lingering in her gut. She didn’t regret her choices at all. She loved Aaron, she loved the simplicity of their wedding - something they never would have got if Elizabeth had even been remotely involved. She’d always been closer to her dad than she had been her mother, but the relationship was still strained, still never what she’d wanted. When she told her parents that she’d eloped with Aaron, a man they’d only known as one of their security details until he was suddenly their son-in-law, they’d reacted poorly. She knew it was a shock, that they needed some room to come to terms with it, but some of the things that had been said still hurt almost 18 months later.

If she wasn’t as in love with Aaron as she was, if their relationship was already fraying at the seams like everyone told her it would be, she knows she’d have stuck it out to the bitter end just to prove her parents wrong. Now her dad would never get to see her have the life she wanted, he’d never get to watch as she had children of her own one day and made vastly different decisions to the ones he and Elizabeth had. And, in her worst moments, Emily thinks that was what hurt the most - that she’d never be able to prove to him that she was more than what he’d always thought she was. 

“How are you doing?” 

She turns to look at her husband, her lips pressed together as she looks around her parents’ home, “I always hated this place.” 

“I know you did,” he replies, wrapping his arm around her, hooking it over her shoulders so she can sink into his side.

“It was never home,” she says, sipping her wine, looking around the sea of faces in the room, people she knew her father hated mourning his death as if they’d been friends, “I never really had one,” she tilts her head to look up at him, “Until you.” 

He pulls her closer to kiss the side of her head and he squeezes her arm, desperate to press as much love onto her skin as he can, wanting to make sure she remembered how loved she was by him. 

“I never had a home until you either.” 

___

Things go wrong almost immediately. 

It takes everything in her not to react when the social worker is killed in front of them. It makes her tense in a way she hadn’t expected. It’s not the worst thing she’s ever seen, not by a long shot, but she’d spent the last 10 weeks wrapped up in a baby bubble. Every single thing she had thought or done in that time had been about Alice and getting used to being a mother to her, every second dedicated to getting to know her daughter. 

It’s a sharp return to the violence of her job, of the world she had voluntarily entered years ago, that she wasn’t prepared for. All of her husband’s assurances that this would be a simple case gone in the half-second it takes Cyrus to shoot the woman who Emily had only met a couple of hours previously.  She watches Cyrus carefully, dusting off her profiling skills as he skulks around, ordering his followers what to do with an ease that lets her know he’s aware of his power over the people here. The thought of it bothers her, makes her skin itch, because she knows how these things often end up. That Cyrus is not the kind of man to give up that power now things were slowly slipping through his fingers.

She blows out a breath as she sits next to Spencer in one of the pews in the church, smiling tightly at him as he looks at her. She tries to hide a wince as she sits, the movement making her breasts ache. She should have been back at the hotel by now, should have either fed Alice or pumped again. Her breasts were slowly filling up, a persistent ache building in her chest and she curses herself for not bringing the pump with her at least so she could relieve some of the discomfort she knows is only going to get worse during the time they were here. 

She knows she hasn’t covered the pain well when Spencer’s brows knit together in concern, “Emily-”

“I’m okay,” she says, cutting him off and looking around to make sure no one is listening in on their conversation, “Just uncomfortable. That’s all.”

He stares at her for a moment before clearing his throat, clearly a little embarrassed about what he was about to say, “Cabbage leaves or ice packs help with breast engorgement.” 

She chuckles despite the situation they found themselves in, the danger lingering in the air, making it almost as thick and cloying as the Colorado heat, “I’m not going to ask how you know that,” she replies dryly, “And I don’t exactly see any cabbage leaves or ice packs around here, do you?” She asks, raising her eyebrow at him, “I’ll be fine.” 

He nods, “Hotch will probably already be outside figuring out how to get you out of here.” 

Her smile slips a little because she knows it’s true. She knows that the moment her husband found out what had happened here he’d be taking charge, that he’d have immediately headed to the command post with their daughter in his arms. She gets it. She’d do the same thing, not able to sit in a hotel room doing nothing whilst her husband was in danger, but she doesn’t want Alice near any of this. The thought of it makes her breath catch in her throat, the mental image of Aaron standing outside with their tiny daughter in his arms enough to make her falter. 

“Yeah,” she chokes out, forcing a shaky smile as she looks back at him, “You’re right. The team will be on their way and everything. We’ll be home soon.” 

Her attention is dragged to the front, Cyrus’s righteous announcement everyone had drunk poison ringing out around them, hanging in the air along with the panic it creates until he admits it was just a test of loyalty. She looks back at Spencer, and sees the same concern in his eyes that she feels spark in her belly, a sense of dread she can’t shake off that makes her wish she’d never agreed to it in the first place. 

She smiles at Spencer, hoping it’s encouraging as she watches Cyrus and his men mobilise, the suspicious looks they throw towards them setting fire to the spark of concern low in her gut. She feels it spread throughout her body, burning her from the inside out, the feeling that this wasn’t anywhere near over yet overwhelming her.

“Let’s hope the team figure it out sooner rather than later,” she says, not sure if she’s trying to reassure Spencer or herself. 

___

She avoids eye contact with Spencer as they get led down a hallway, an unfamiliar hand buried deep in her hair as she gets dragged along. Her eyes flick to Spencer, and she sees the fear he doesn’t cover quite well enough, something she knows Cyrus will latch on to as well.

“Which one of you is the FBI Agent?” Cyrus spits, his fury thrumming in the small space they are in. The air thick with it, making it hard to suck in a breath. 

“What are you talking about?” Emily asks, feigning innocence as she flashes Spencer a look, quietly pleading for him to stay silent, “Why do you think one of us is an FBI Agent?” 

Cyrus’s grip on his gun tightens along with his jaw, “It was all over the news. I know it’s one of you. God will forgive me for what I must do.” He clicks the safety off of his gun and points it at Spencer’s head. 

Emily looks at Spencer, sees the calculation he’s making. Selfless, stupid bravery she knows he’s picked up from a little too much time with Derek. She knows she has to beat him to it, the words slipping past her lips before she can fully think it through.

“It’s me.” 

For a moment, everything is silent. One brief second of peace stretched out between them as what she has admitted settles around them. 

Then he grabs her. Pulls her up by the hair with such force she yells out, unable to stop the reaction she likes to think she’d usually be able to control. He throws her against a wall, a mirror smashing against her that she hears more than feels, the slice of the glass that cuts her arm a delayed sensation, something she can’t quite match up with what’s happening to her. 

She isn’t sure if she trips or if he pushes her to the ground, but before she can figure it out he’s kicking and punching her. His steel-capped boots connecting with wherever he can hit her, forcing oxygen out of her lungs as her ribs crack, leaving her gasping and breathless, as she grunts in pain. When he kicks her in the stomach she places her hands over it to protect it, a deeply ingrained instinct to keep her baby safe as if her body and brain hadn’t entirely caught up with the fact she hadn’t been pregnant in over two months. She feels two of her fingers break with the force of it, her wedding rings pushed into her skin in a way that for the first time ever brings pain instead of comfort. 

She looks over at the boxes of food and supplies the FBI had sent in, and she knows there will be listening devices in there - that her friends will be hearing all of this. She knows them well enough to know their instinct would be to storm the place, to force their way in and save her and as many people as they could, but that couldn’t happen. They couldn’t let Cyrus have the final showdown he was looking for and turn him into a hero in some twisted folklore. 

She prays to a god she isn’t entirely sure she believes in that her husband isn’t the one listening in, that he’d be spared this, as she sucks in a breath to seal her fate. 

“I can take it.” 

Her words have the effect she knew they’d have on Cyrus. They rile him up, make him angrier as he continues his assault on her, and she can only hope the others will have understood the message. 

“I can take it,” she repeats, her words morphing into a groan as the pain takes over, everything else fading into the background other than Cyrus’s callous instruction. 

“Tie her up,” he insists, “Take her upstairs.” 

She’s aware that she’s fading in and out of consciousness. Everything hurt. Her head. Her ribs. Her stomach. Every part of her body seemingly battered and bruised as she lay on the bed she’d been dumped on, barely able to move, 

“You shouldn’t have lied about who you were.”

She just about lifts her head as Kathy, Jessica’s mother, walks into the room. She’s got a washcloth in her hand, something soft and gentle about her as she sits on the edge of the bed and dabs at the blood Emily can feel drying on her face. 

“He said this would happen,” Kathy carries on, barely making eye contact, “It was the prophecy.” 

Emily holds back a scoff, not wanting to upset the fragile woman who was helping her, the trust between them as delicate as she was, “A self-fulfilling prophecy.” 

Kathy ignores her as she continues to clean some of the blood from her face, “He’s a dangerous man to lie to.”

Emily breathes out slowly, suppressing a groan when it hurts. She watches Kathy for a moment, before she carefully brings up what she’d noticed earlier.

“It would take a very brave woman to lie to him knowing what it would cost,” she says and Kathy freezes, pulling back from her entirely, “It would have to be because of something very important.” Kathy stands up, her hands tight around the washcloth as she turns her back to Emily, and she panics, not wanting to lose her chance to get some information that could help save her life, “I have a daughter too,” Emily says, the mention of Alice makes her voice shake, a vulnerability she’d once only had when it came to Aaron. She knew she’d adjust eventually, that she would get used to spending time away from her, but she couldn’t get past the fact that she shouldn’t even be here, “I’d do anything to protect her.” 

Kathy freezes and turns back to look at her, not getting any closer, “How old is she?” 

She presses her lips together, “10 weeks.”

Kathy frowns as she looks at Emily, “They’re so innocent when they are that small,” she smiles wistfully, as if wishing for the days when her life was different, “Life changes that.” She stares at Emily for a moment before she walks over quickly, moving fast so she can’t change her mind. She undoes the binds on Emily’s hands, “Listen to what he says,” she warns her as she steps back, already heading towards the door, “Then you might see your little girl again.” 

Emily opens her mouth to respond, to call out after her, but the door is already closed behind her. She lays there for a second before she sits up. She hisses, the pain briefly unbearable as her ribs scream at her. She pauses and takes a few deep breaths before she tries again, this time making it to her feet. She walks, slowly, to the tiny excuse for a bathroom attached to the room she is locked in. 

She stares at herself in the small, dirty mirror above the sink. She takes the time to check all of her injuries. The bruised skin that encircled her eye and spread down her cheek looked worse than she thought it would. She presses her fingers to her cheekbone, gently feeling to see if it is broken, and lets her arm drop to her side when it gets too much to keep holding it up. The cut on her arm had stopped bleeding, but it needed cleaning. She looks down at her swollen fingers, sees how her rings are too tight, a touch too familiar to when they swelled when she was pregnant for her liking. She regulates her breathing as she grabs the rings, breathing in and out twice, before she pulls them off, her teeth clenched tightly as she holds back the cry of pain as much as she can. She looks at the rings for a moment before she leans down and drops them into her boot, wanting to make sure they are safe and couldn’t possibly fall out of her pocket.

She groans as she undoes her shirt. It’s not her bruises that shock her, not the grim pattern of black and blue splattered across the pale skin her husband had always gently teased her for, but the bright red skin of her breasts. The ache in them was still there, just diminished compared to her other injuries now. She gently rests her hand against one of them and she thinks of Alice, desperately trying to remember how much she’d pumped before she came here, hoping it was enough and finding herself grateful for the first time for her oversupply.

“Fuck,” she mutters, leaning on the sink for a moment as she weighs up her options. She touches her engorged skin and immediately winces, the pain intense for a moment, a sharp stab that steals her breath away. She knew she had to relieve it somehow, had to do something to make sure that she wasn’t also walking away from this with an infection. She unclasps the maternity cups on the bra and prepares to manually express, something she hadn’t had to do once in the last 10 weeks. 

She does what the nurse had shown her when Alice was born, her teeth pressed together as she holds back a whimper at the pain, her eyes squeezed shut as she forces back the tears that had gathered in them. It feels like a relief when it starts to work, a literal weight lifted from her chest as it finally gets a little bit easier to breathe. 

She does her bra and shirt back up as soon as she can, not wanting to be exposed if someone comes barging in and she walks back to the bed, slowly lowering herself onto it. She sighs and closes her eyes, desperately pretending she was back home with her family - the hope that she would definitely get to see them again feeling more and more misplaced with every passing second.

___

It’s chaos when the raid starts. 

She’s unsteady on her feet, desperately looking for Spencer before she heads outside herself, not wanting to lose him after everything they’d been through the last couple of days. She almost walks straight into Derek and Dave, held steady by their hands on her shoulders as she briefly sways in place. 

“Prentiss,” Derek says, his sigh of relief paired with the look of horror on his face at her appearance, “I’m so glad to see you.” 

“You go outside, Bella. We’ve got it from here,” Dave insists, the same look on his face that Derek had and she wonders if she somehow looked worse than she did the last time she looked in a mirror. 

She shakes her head fiercely, “We’ve got to get Reid.” 

Dave and Derek exchange a look in front of her, one that makes anger they don’t deserve roll in her gut because she doesn’t want or need their pity. 

“Hotch is waiting outside for you,” Derek says, purposely hitting her Achille’s heel, a move they all know is dirty but don’t acknowledge, “We’ll get Reid. You go see your husband before he yells at someone else who could end his career.”

She nods, filing away that comment for later, her sudden need to see Aaron, to hug him, overwhelming. “Alice isn’t… she isn’t out there is she?” 

Dave shakes his head and squeezes her shoulder, “She’s back at the hotel with JJ. She’s safe.”

She chokes on a sob, her ribs aching with it as it catches on every one as it escapes her chest, “She’s okay?” 

Derek smiles softly at her, “She’s okay. The sooner you get outside the sooner you can see her. We’ve got Reid, okay?” 

She nods again and for once she doesn’t want to argue, can’t find it in herself to be contrary, she just wants out of the place she’d spent the last couple of days thinking could be her grave. She walks away without saying anything else, using the wall to guide her out, not sure she trusts her feet, her entire body weaker than she thought it ever had been. 

She steps outside, the air rancid with gunfire and overwhelming noise but it was fresher than it had been in the compound so she tries to fill her lungs but chokes on it, coughing as she comes to a brief stop. 

She looks up and sees Aaron in the distance, and the relief is palpable, almost enough to knock her off her feet as she slowly walks towards him. 

The church explodes behind her before she can call his name. 

-x-

Tag List:

@ssa-sparks , @ptrckjcne , @lyds102 , @glockleveledatyourcrotch , @hotchnissenthusiast , @danadeservesadrink , @ssamorganhotchner , @emilyprentissisgod , @notagentprentiss , @freesiasandfics , @emilyshotchniss , @thecharmingart , @paulitalblond , @hancydrewfan , @camille093 , @whitecrossgirl , @rawr-jess , @jareauswife , @ms-black-a , @beebeelank , @aubreyprc , @psychopath-at-heart , @criminalmindsgonewrong , @fionaloover , @kinqslcys , @prentissinred , @ccmattis-22 , @denvivale317 , @thrindis , @hotchsguccitie , @cmfouatslota77 , @alexblakegf , @prentissxhotch , @emobabeyy , @victoiregranger , @stormyweatherth , @wanderingdreamer009 , @ssablackbird , @luhwithah , @lex13cm , @dont-emily-me , @mrs-ssa-hotch , @itsmytimetoodream , @capsshinyshield , @canuck-eh

Join my tag list here!

Note: if your tag doesn’t work/appear please let me know if your @ has changed. Please also check your settings to ensure you can be tagged.

[thevoiceinyourheadx]

Birthday Wishes

SURPRISE!

Happy birthday @wheresarizona !

I’m incredibly pleased I managed to finish this in time given my history of never finishing any fic I start, but this was based on a valentine-related comment you made (if I could remember the post I’d link it), so it only felt right to post it for your birthday.

rating: EXPLICIT (18+ only) (also probably terribly written smut, you’ve been warned 😅), unbeta’d mess, possibly inconsistent characterisation, I tried to not use many descriptors for reader but there is a mention of hair, I literally have no idea what I’m doing, please be gentle on me 😖

The first thing you noticed when you walked through the door were the candles. The lights were off, so the only source in the apartment came from the soft glow of what must be dozens of candles, scattered around on almost every surface. You didn’t even know you owned this many candles, and the image it conjured of your boyfriend going candle shopping brought a smile to your face.

As if he could sense your thoughts, the man in question appeared from the kitchen, wearing your favourite shirt of his. Javier watched you with a fond smile as you hung up your jacket and bag and moved to join him, meeting you halfway. As soon as you were in reach, his arms wrapped around you, pulling you in for a deep kiss that left you breathless.

“Welcome home, cariño.”

“Hmm, what a welcome.” It took you several seconds before your brain caught up and you opened your eyes, but when you did you found Javier looking at you with total adoration. “What’s all this for?”

“I know you said you didn’t want to do anything special for your birthday,” his face turned serious “but you do so much for me, I just thought – I wanted to do something nice for you. You deserve it.”

“You’re such a softie.” You teased, though inside you were positively glowing at his words.

“Yeah, well, don’t tell anyone.” He grumbled, though his grin gave him away. He kissed you quickly before taking your hand in his. “Dinner’s almost ready – I made your favourite.”

“You’re feeding me too? What did I do to deserve this?” You teased, and Javier just chuckled.

You followed him into the kitchen, and were met with a mouth-watering smell, as well as the sight of dozens more candles, some in the kitchen, more in the dining room and the lounge – they were everywhere.

“Javi - how many candles did you light?”

“You don’t like them?” He frowned, visibly upset that he might’ve gotten something wrong, and your heart melted for your sweet, thoughtful boyfriend.

“No! I mean- I love them, I love everything you’ve done, I just- one of us is going to have to be the responsible one and make sure they’re all out before we get anymore…distracted.”

A smirk made its way onto his lips as he stepped closer to you, his hands finding their way to your hips and pulling you against him. “Distracted, huh?” He leaned in until your noses were touching, lips just millimetres from yours. “Why, are you planning on…distracting me?”

“Me? A distraction?” You said softly, as Javier leaned towards you always subconsciously. Before your lips could touch, you pulled away. “What’s burning?”

It took a second for his brain to catch up, before his eyes widened and he dashed over to the stove.

“Fuck!” He cursed, quickly checking everything over as you giggled. When he realised that nothing was, in fact, burning, he turned back to you with a pout.

“That wasn’t very nice, cariño.”

“I’m sorry.” You said, wrapping your arms around his waist, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “Forgive me?”

“Hmm, I don’t know…” he teased, pretending to think about it, though his grin gave him away. You leaned up to press your lips to his, and he quickly reciprocated, deepening the kiss as his tongue sought entrance to your mouth, his hand cupping your cheek and tilting your head to give him better access. You only broke apart when you started to get lightheaded, both of you slightly breathless, pupils blown wide.

“That’s better.” He teased, nipping at your lip playfully. “Now, stop distracting me before I actually burn something.” He gave your ass a quick tap before turning back to the stove.

“You really didn’t have to do all this, Javi.” You said, still slightly dizzy as you leaned up against the counter. You surveyed the scrawled, handwritten recipe and the various ingredients scattered across the benchtop. “Honestly, I’m happy just to spend time with you.”

“I wanted to.” He said simply.

“Can I at least help with something? Do you want me to-” you picked up the empty chopping board and moved towards the sink, wanting to get started on the dishes so there was one less thing for him to think about. Javier quickly caught you by the waist, spinning you back around to face him.

“I have everything under control.” He took the board from your hand, gently placing it aside. “Tonight is about you. You don’t have to do anything.”

“Are you sure? I could-” he cut you off with a kiss, gently pushing you towards the dining table, which was already set with a vase of your favourite flowers and a glass of your favourite wine.

“The only thing you need to do,” he said, helping you into your chair before handing you your glass. “Is sit there and relax.” He gave you one last kiss before returning to the kitchen.

A dreamy smile made its way onto your face as you reached out and gently touched one of the blooms, before your attention turned back to the man in the kitchen. Though you couldn’t see his face from your position, you could picture his expression as he flitted about – brows pinched, lips turned down in the slightest of frowns as he concentrated on each step of the recipe. Javier always gave his all to any task he undertook, and cooking was no different. You felt incredibly privileged to be the one to receive all his care and attention.

Dinner passed quickly as Javier asked about your day and grumbled about how many stores he had to go through to find your favourite candles, and you gushed over how amazing the food was. When you’d first met, you never would’ve thought Javier was much of a cook, but he managed to surprise you. Everything was cooked to perfection, and he even had your favourite dessert – though he sheepishly admitted to having bought that, not willing to risk messing it up. Your heart melted at the lengths he Javier went to for you.

When dinner was finished, Javier was quick to gather up the dishes, refusing to let you even touch them. You followed him into the kitchen, glass in hand, as he stacked them neatly by the sink before turning back to you.

“I know you’re probably tired, but I was thinking I could draw you a bath?”

You took a sip of your wine, looking at him conspiratorially. “That depends…will you be joining me?”

He chuckled, his eyes darkening. “Of course, baby. I said I was taking care of you, didn’t I?”

Several minutes later, you were sinking into the warm, sweet-scented water with a sinful moan, letting Javier wrap his arms around you and pull you into his chest. You relaxed against him, head tipping back onto his shoulder, and he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Feel good, cariño?” He chuckled.

“It’s perfect.” You moaned, sinking into his embrace. “You’re too good to me.”

He placed a kiss on your shoulder, arms tightening around your waist to pull you impossibly closer.

“You deserve it.” He murmured against your skin. “You’re amazing – you’re gorgeous, you’re smart, you’re funny, you manage to put up with all my shit - you are so fucking incredible, baby. You deserve everything.” He said the last part softly, so softly you weren’t sure you were meant to hear it.

Lifting his arms from your waist, you turned around, legs moving to frame his hips as your hands came up to cup his cheeks.

“I have everything I need right here.” You said, before leaning in to kiss him gently. “You are an incredibly thoughtful, caring, hot, and kind man. I’m so lucky to have you in my life.”

Instead of replying, he surged up to press his lips to yours, his arms tightening around you to pull you flush against him. You moaned when one of his hands slid up to your breast, squeezing it, and he took the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.

It didn’t take long for you to feel his cock hardening against you, and rolled your hips against it, both of you breaking from the kiss to moan at the sensation. His mouth immediately began to trail down your neck, before wrapping around your nipple, his hand coming up to gently flick the other one. The action went straight to your core, and it took all your willpower to not just give in to the sensation – but you had other plans. Javier was so distracted by your breast that he didn’t notice when your attention shifted. But between his thick length pressed against your core and how incredibly sweet and thoughtful he’d been all evening, you were desperate to have his cock in your mouth, to worship him and show him just how much you appreciated him.  

Javier hissed when your hand wrapped around his cock, mouth popping off your nipple and eyes rolling shut as you pumped it a couple times. You leaned forward to kiss his jaw, right at the spot that drove him crazy.

“I want to suck your cock, baby.” You said, your mouth moving down his neck, much like he’d done to yours earlier. “Let me take care of you, Javi.” You purred, giving his cock a few languid strokes. You could see Javier visibly struggle to control himself, and you smirked.

As much as he wanted to let you continue using your hands – fuck, or your mouth – he wanted to take care of you first. Reluctantly, he pulled your hand from his cock, inwardly grinning at your resulting pout. He took a moment to compose himself before he opened his eyes, his eyes nearly black with lust.

“As much as I love your mouth, baby,” he said, nipping at your lips to punctuate his point, “I’m taking care of you tonight. And I think I’m going to start by eating that gorgeous pussy.” You hadn’t even noticed his hand had moved until he was cupping your mound, causing you to moan. “That’s it.” He smirked. “Go dry off and get on the bed. You’re coming at least three times before I fuck you.”

You both scrambled out of the tub none too gracefully, far too eager to have his mouth on you – Javier was an incredibly thorough lover, and he seemed to genuinely love eating you out. He wrapped you in a towel, drying you off between kisses – and taking the opportunity to keep his hands on you, cupping your breast and squeezing your ass. With a final smack to your ass – he couldn’t help himself – he pushed you towards the bedroom, drying himself as he followed you, admiring the view as he went.

You smiled softly when you entered the bedroom, finding it lit with your favourite candles, crimson rose petals scattered on the bed. Who knew your boyfriend was such a romantic?

In your distraction you didn’t notice when Javier came up behind you, wrapping his arms around you and kissing your neck.

“I believe I told you to get on the bed.” He murmured against your skin.

“I was admiring your handiwork.” You said, hand reaching back to tangling in his hair. “You are so ridiculously sweet.”

“I’m about to fuck your brains out, how is that sweet?” He groused, and you grinned, turning to kiss him. His hands quickly went to your ass, kneading at them as he walked you back towards the bed. As soon as your knees hit the mattress, you sank down on it, hands immediately going to his cock where it bobbed against his stomach, long and thick and already dripping precum. You leaned forward to lick a stripe up his length, his hand fisting in your hair as you swirled your tongue around the head, licking up the pearly droplets. Before you could take it into your mouth fully, Javi was pulling your head away, leaning over you to pull you into a sloppy, open mouthed kiss. He hooked his hands under your thighs, and you squealed when he hauled you up the bed and climbed over you, before leaning back to admire his work.

Your hair was splayed around you like a halo, the movement of the mattress causing the petals to dot your tresses like stars. Your eyes were dark and wide with arousal and your lips swollen from kisses. Your legs were slightly parted, and his hands immediately moved to pull them apart further, and you let him eagerly. He stared at your drenched core, licking his lips in anticipation. As much as he said that tonight was for you, he was just as eager – if not more – to taste you.

“Fuck, look at you, baby.” He whispered reverently, swiping two fingers through your drenched folds. “You’re dripping already.”

“You did promise to fuck me.” You challenged, propping yourself up on your elbows. “ ‘Fuck my brains out’, I believe you said.” You raised your eyebrow in a challenge.

“If I recall correctly,” he said lowly, “You need to come for me three times before you get my cock.” He said, his fingers moving up to circle your clit. You bucked your hips, head falling back to the mattress. “You can do that for me, right baby?” You groaned at his teasing.

“Fuck, Javi – I need you.” You whined, hips rolling into his hand, desperate for something, anything. You felt like he’d been teasing you for hours.

He took mercy on you, fingers gathering more of your slick before rubbing over your clit. His other hand pinned your hips to the bed, forcing you to stay still as he watched your face twist in pleasure. It didn’t take long for him to work you into a frenzy – you were gasping his name, fists clenched in the sheets, brows pinched – and suddenly his mouth was on you, latching on to your clit, and you came with a breathless cry, your hips desperately bucking against his mouth as he licked you through it, not stopping to let you catch your breath. He dove straight back in, hands gripping your hips and holding you to his mouth, licking through your folds and flicking your clit with his tongue, building you to another orgasm without pausing for breath. When you came into his mouth he groaned, his hand reaching down to squeeze his cock, trying to hold off his own orgasm. He continued to lap at your folds, drinking up every last drop, until your hand tangled through his hair and weakly pushed him away.

“Fuck, Javi, please.” You begged. “I need you inside me.” He shook his head.

“You can give me another one, can’t you baby?” He said, and flicking your clit once more, you weren’t sure whether the moan you let out was from disappointment or anticipation.

Javier didn’t wait for you to answer, he simply dove back in again, working you through the aftershocks until you could feel the tell-tale signs of another orgasm building. This time, he pushed a thick finger into you, then a second, groaning when he felt your walls clench around them. He pumped his fingers in and out as he continued to suck at your clit, before suddenly curling them, finding a spot inside you that had you instantly reaching your peak, vision turning white and back arching off the bed as you came around his fingers. It took you several long minutes to come down from your high, your chest heaving and breaths coming out in little pants as Javier finally pulled his mouth from you, placing a gentle kiss to the inside of your thigh before lifting his head to look at you.

You couldn’t help the breathless giggle that came out when his head emerged from between your thighs.

“That’s not the reaction I was hoping for.”

“You- you have a petal-” you giggled, gesturing to your own lips. He frowned, swiping his thumb over his lips, and your giggles turned into full blown laughter as he tried to shake the errant petal from his thumb – but it refused to budge, a thin layer of your slick making it stick.

Javier grumbled, resorting to wiping it off on the sheet, making a mental note to never try rose petals again, ‘romantic’ advice be damned. But any hint of annoyance melted away the second his gaze returned to you; you have a soft smile on your lips and are looking up at him with such adoration. Stray petals forgotten, he leant down to capture your lips, hand cradling your cheek as if you were the most precious thing in the world – and to him, you were. He poured every ounce of emotion into the kiss, telling you with his actions what he couldn’t put into words. He had no idea what he did to deserve someone like you, to deserve your love. But as he drew away to look at your blissed out face beneath him, he vowed to spend the rest of his life making sure he was worthy of you.

[sp00kymulderr]

Part 2 - Fire

series masterlist

Pairing: Joel Miller x afab reader (no pronouns)

Warnings: 18+, kissing, fingering, mentions of sex, details of grief, guilt, dealing with emotions in the wrong way, implied canon typical violence, reader is dealing with death of a loved one, general sadness. Please let me know if I missed any.

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: You’ve found a way to deal with your grief through the man who took you in, but will Joel let you have that from him when he knows better?

A/N: If you like it please please comment and/or reblog. To follow for fic updates only go to @sp00kyupdates​ or see taglist details on my masterlist.

When Joel kisses you, the whole world falls away. Not in the way of those romance movies of a time long gone, but in the way that you forget for that moment about every aching cruel emotion that’s been running through you for the last three weeks. Vaguely you feel the slide of a tear down your face – a memory of the moment of hopelessness which dissipated in the wake of his touch.

He’s soft with you, much more than you expected, the kiss is tender and slow and it feels like he is trying to tell you something – something he doesn’t have the words to express. You take those unspoken words from him, breathe them in from him and try to make sense of them. You whimper against his lips, and finally reach out to cover your hand with his where it rests at your waist.

Something in him shifts then. The air changes. The kiss ends.

Joel seems to come back to himself from some place of other and he pulls away leaving you cold. It happens in a moment; he’s kissing you and then he’s moving away, practically recoiling from you. He gets up from the bed without a sound other than the creak of the floorboards and his heavy breath.

“Joel?” You whisper, disappointment and a hint of hurt rife in your voice. You wish it wasn’t so dark, you need to see if there’s want in those expressive eyes.

“I’m sorry” is all you get back, a grunted apology that means nothing to you.

The horrible feeling comes back within moments as you come down from the press of his lips to yours. You ache to chase that high, pathetically ready to beg him to kiss you again. If he doesn’t you feel like you might break apart, like your body just can’t hold itself together any more. But he’s already heading for the bedroom door so you just curl in to a ball and let him leave.

“Uh I'm gonna take watch. You should try and sleep” He informs you and you try to pretend there’s some kind of feeling for you in his voice.

You don’t sleep. You cry, and you hate yourself for being such a mess. Why couldn’t you be more like him? Why did everything have hurt so much now? Why couldn’t you just have her back? She’d know what to do.

You think about her for hours. You want to erase the memories. Instead you just cry until the sun comes up, until there’s no more tears for you to let out.

***

Joel sits out on the porch of the house, a loaded rifle by his side, and tries to think about literally anything other than you. He hasn’t kissed anyone in years, there’s no time for something so simple when the world is ending. And perhaps he has thought about you like that before now – he’s only human after all - but thinking and doing are two very different things and he knows he crossed a line. You need comfort, not whatever it is he can offer you.

He hopes he can come back from this. He prays you can too.

Joel lets out a sigh and brings his head to his hands, rubbing his tired eyes. He’s so wrecked with guilt, he doesn’t know what to do with it. You aren’t meant to even still be here – you were supposed to have left by now, made your own path. He should tell you to leave.

He doesn’t want you to leave.

What is it? He wonders. He knows why you want it – you want to forget. You want to chase a high that will drown out the pain for a while. Is that what he wants too? He ponders as the chill midnight breeze flits across the porch. He pulls his jacket tighter across his chest. He sits still and sentry for hours, ignoring the thing that aches deep down in him. He won’t let it claw it’s way out.

He tries not to think about how soft your lips were.

***

It’s definitely early when the old mattress dips and you wake with a start. Instinct takes over and you scramble to the other side of the bed in a panic, before you look up.

“It’s okay, hey, just me” Joel says apologetically.

There’s a pale morning light drifting through the stained cream curtains, the gentle drift of the wind blowing them slightly open. He’d let you sleep through the whole night. You let out a breath and give him the tiniest smile, not really looking in his eyes. When you do look up you see his hair is damp, springing in to little curls as it dries.

You wish he wasn’t so beautiful.

“Shower still works, just about. Have to be real quick” he answers the unspoken question when he sees you looking up, nodding towards the en-suite. You blink the sleep from your eyes as you register his words.

“Oh my god” you mutter. You literally can’t remember the last time you used a shower. You’ve gotten so used to being covered in a constant layer of grime.

He chuckles quietly and holds his hand out, pulling you up from the bed when you accept it. Your breath hitches as he pulls you up and you brace against his chest. There’s that same feeling from before, burning embers deep in your body. He looks away quickly and clears his throat, letting go of your hand.

“I’ll give you some privacy” he tells you as he heads for the door.

“Joel” you whisper, and he turns around. You don’t know what you were going to say. He looks like something hurts him, as he stares at you for a minute before he’s turning away and closing the door behind him as he heads back out in to the house.

You sit back down on the bed with a huff of breath. There’s an aching thing in you, you can feel it in your chest, making it’s way up your throat. It scares you, all that pain and fear and grief so close to erupting from you again. Joel could fix it for you, you know he could.

He’s the only one who can save you from it.

You take a deep breath and make a decision, and maybe it’s the wrong one but you want to stop feeling like all you are is some vessel of grief and other horrible things. You leave the room and make your way through the house – he’s in the kitchen, looking at the collection of cans to see what should be left behind. You can tell he hears you approaching, his fingers flexing by his side as he cautiously turns, a look of relief turning to a look of concern when he sees it’s you.

“Joel…” you say again, approaching him slowly – like he’s a wild animal and you’re there to tame him.

It’s the other way around though, isn’t it? He could tame you, tame your pain.

He murmurs your name softly. You look at each other for a while, something in his deep brown eyes emboldening you to come closer, reaching out for him. He swallows, his adams apple bobbing in his throat as you finally wrap your arms around him. He doesn’t stop you. He gives you a look you’ve never seen before; somewhere between fear and pleading.

The moment your lips touch his again, the spark erupts in to flame. Long lingering languid embers now suddenly burning everything in their wake. He opens his mouth to you too quickly, lets you in as if he is a starved man. Perhaps he is. He demands you, but not enough. It aches and you want to tell him to rip you open and devour it all, the sick need for him to consume you and every horror that lives in you. Desperation leaks from every pore as his strong arms wrap around your waist and he’s backing you up against the now redundant fridge. A flurry of dust sprinkles down from the jostled appliance as you hit it, and something falls from the front of it to the floor – a photograph of a long gone happy family – but neither of you notice.

All you know is Joel. All Joel knows is you.

The kiss sucks all the breath from you, but you won’t let go. He tastes like something from the earth. When his scent floods your body you forget yourself, forget it all and it’s everything you’ve wanted. And yet your body says more, more, more.

Joel is the one to break the kiss. You whimper at the loss of his lips on yours and it seems like that nearly breaks him. He shakes his head and stares at you for a moment, those beautiful eyes darkening with a long ignored desire; Another forgotten thing clawing it’s way to the surface. He holds your face in his hands and studies your eyes for a moment, searching for something you don’t want to share with him.

“Tell me to stop” he says, gruff and low.

You look back at him, stare straight at him with resolve. Both of you know you’ll never do that. You pull him back insistently, chasing his lips with your own. He’s weak to you, he lets you in again.

“Don’t stop” you moan against his lips, never fully breaking away.

Your monster is starting to fade away now, the horror becoming a dull ache rather than a gaping wound. Joel growls against your lips, and you know he feels the same lack of feeling the more you give each other.

When you pull away for a moment his eyes are dark. He looks at you with a hunger like you are the only thing that can sate his appetite, and this time he doesn’t run from it. He runs his thumb across your bottom lip, a distracting moment of tenderness as his other hand slides down the front of your body and skilled fingers unbutton your jeans. His eyes flit down from your eyes, to your lips then to the place where his hand is sliding beneath the waistband of your open jeans and your greyed underwear.

He’s going to give you what you need.

He looks back up at you as you gasp. Those dark eyes are the same ones you’ve seen when he dispatches those unfortunate enough to cross him, when his hands are bloodied and his anger boils over. Now they are for you, now those hands that always carry the phantom blood of everything he’s done are for you. He has found that base urge within him and let it flood him, all for you. It excites you, it’ll haunt you, it’s all you care about in this moment.

He nudges your legs a little apart with his own, as he presses a finger down and finds your pooling arousal. There’s a noise he makes, a groan that's close to a growl, that makes your knees weak and you have to hold on tighter to him, your hand gripping hard on his shoulder.

“Joel -” you start but he interrupts you with his mouth on yours again, like he doesn’t want to hear your words. Instead he kisses you hard, as his finger brushes the part that makes you keen and arch in to his touch. He moves almost expertly, his hand sliding down until he’s pressing a finger at your entrance, while the heel of his hand pushes down.

This is the cure. You gasp and keen and all of a sudden your mind is completely blank. This is how you live through it. You take it from him, and he helps you forget. Where your pain before was a faded piece of hurt in the back of your mind, when he touches you like this it almost disappears entirely. He pushes a thick finger in to you, gathering your warmth and your need. You cry out and give yourself completely to that fire burning through you.

Joel breathes your name like it’s a sin. You moan and push your head back against the solid door of the fridge, exposing your throat to him as he bares his teeth and pushes in another finger, the heel of his palm grinding down in a way that makes you feel dizzy. He moves forward, caging you in and pressing his lips to your throat, the scrape of teeth making your breath hitch. It’s not enough. It’s too much.

You whimper out something incoherent and pull his head up, fingers carding through his greying curls. For a minute, his black eyes are on yours again and there is nothing but your breathlessness and the movement of his hand between your legs. You kiss him, desperate – all teeth and spit and unbearable want. He pulls away too quickly. You whine and see another hint of that black-heartedness when he smiles a little.

“Please” you whisper. What are you asking for? You barely know. You just know you need him to keep quieting the noise, to keep making your forget it all.

“Again” he demands, his fingers still working to unravel you. You have seen so much of him but this is new.

“Please, Joel” your voice shakes as you edge closer to your peak “Ple-”

Something crashes in the other room, the sound of shattering glass and you both still. You try to quiet your heavy breath, groaning quietly when he pulls his hand out of your jeans.

Joel is all business again, his demeanour changing in an instant as he glances to you and puts a finger to his lips, telling you to keep quiet. Your brain hasn’t caught up yet; you just nod dumbly and watch him grab his gun from the table and stalk off to the next room as you try hard to catch your breath as you button your jeans back up and curse whatever interrupted you.

When you don’t hear any more noise, you slowly move to the living room, trying to keep the pads of your feet light on the floor. From the doorway you see him breathing deeply, rubbing his eyes for a moment but he’s put his gun away. You clear your throat and he turns to you.

There’s regret there in his eyes, clear as day. Your head fills with shame.

“Fuckin’ racoon or something” he murmurs, pointing to the smashed vase on the floor.

“Right” you answer, still struggling to be completely human again.

You look at each other before you take a step closer to him. This time he steps back.

“Take that shower while you have the chance. We’re leaving in fifteen” Joel orders, voice stern. He’s not letting you get close again.

“But-” you begin, not sure where you’ll go with this

“Just do it” he sighs, sounding almost pained and turning his back to you.

***

It all comes flooding back in one tidal wave after his rejection. You had gotten so close to feeling normal again. Feeling an emotion that wasn’t painful. And he’d taken it away from you the moment he stepped away.

“Damn racoon” you mutter to yourself in the bathroom, stripping off your dirty clothes and getting quickly under the shower. It’s cold to begin with, a sprinkling of lukewarm water as you soak your body and hair, and then back to freezing again. You’re in there for no more than five minutes. It isn’t as refreshing as it should be, but it’s better than nothing.

You shouldn’t blame Joel for how you feel right now, but part of you does even so. If he’d just give in completely, it would all be fine. He can’t pretend he doesn’t want it, after what just happened. Or did he only do that because he felt sorry for you? Was he just needing something you could give him? God, you wished he was easier to read. It could mean anything, the way he was with you.

You can’t wash away the feeling of his hands, his mouth. You’ll never be able to. He’s gonna haunt you forever, just another ghost travelling with you wherever you go. Just like all the other people you lost. Just like her. You press your head against the cold tiles of the shower and let the water drip down your face, taking a gasping breath.

You can’t let him become just another memory.

You won’t let that happen.

[opuestocomplementario]

Love in The Air: the end of an era

Quick commentary of the special episode

So, why does the intro of the special episode slaps harder than the actual intro??? 

Okay but I love how touchy Sky got with Pai; like when Pai takes him out of his brother's hands and Sky is trying to ease Pai I find it so endearing how he is also hugging Pai back and playing with Pai jacket. 

Pai angry>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Sky teasing Pai >>>>>>>>>

Literally any scene with Rain on it (he looks so cute and beautiful with the hanbok)

Phayu in any time of clothes hits so hard honestly. He is fulling every one of the fantasies ever made (mechanic, architect, doctor, pilot, korean prince)

Likes and the defending of my favorite boy

There’s a lot of things I liked about this episode: Pai switching his tone of voice between angry with his brother and soft and lovely with Sky, Phayu talking with his friend (which, yes, I do love their chemistry, how tf Boss gets to do that?), Rain and Sky jealous and possessive over their boyfriends and also being horny and giving up to them. 

What I liked about it too, something we also see in the series in general, is both part of the relationship focus on pleasure the other: Sky knows how to play physical with Pai and Pai loves to worship the fuck out of Sky when they fucked. Phayu and Rain deal with a lot more of D/s tones, focusing on Phayu giving Rain pleasure and therefore Phayu enjoying the reactions of Rain, I feel like their relationship in this episode got more room to develop and make the watchers understand their relationship more. 

I love how this series emphasizes the importance of giving pleasure to both parts and is not just the “top” giving and doing all the stuff. 

I will stand on this hill and defend the shit out of Rain no matter how much the show tries to make him look like a comedic relief, mainly because I love those types of characters. I will like to briefly talk about the structure of the episode being built on jealousy and insecurity. Things we had seen more in the Pai and Sky relationship. Here’s the thing, Rain is insecure dating someone as cool as Phayu as everyone else might be, like, Phayu is literally a god to everyone's eyes, Rain included. So it makes sense that for once Rain wants to keep him to himself. 

What I find interesting is the reason why Rain got “really” mad with Phayu; one might think it would make more sense for him to get angry at Phayu cosplaying for everyone (because as they said, cosplaying is something Phayu does for Rain, and only him). But, nop, our boy got mad because Phayu was talking with our beautiful girl Natsu. And is more weird when you focus on what Phayu said to Rain when he was confronted: Rain said Phayu was kissing that woman, and Phayu said that’s something he only does with him (aka he only kisses Rain). 

Look, we have the var way to high for dealing with Phayu mocking Rain most of the time so I maybe my biases toward Pai and Rain makes me wanna grab Phayu and making him understand that Rain needs verbal validation AND backup when they are with people and not only when they are by themselves. Like, the boy is crying because he always gets made fun of and Phayu goes and does that. 

But overall, Phayu does know how to approach Rain and make him feel good not only physically but mentally too. He knows how to get on Rain's good side because he understands the reason why he got mad is important to him. Also, I am going to fully believe (I will in fact pretend the scene where Rain confronted Sky and saying stuff along the lines of “you knew they were coming all along?” is not a scene perse and just a fever dream BECAUSE I WANT TO) Rain did all of that - ignoring Phayu and going on a trip with Sky-  because he wanted to have something more spicy in their lives and what more can he give to his boyfriend than a perfect honeymoon and unlimited sex in the beach? Exactly, nothing can beat that. 

I don’t have to brag and talk about how beautiful it is to see our Sky have confidence in himself and brag about his boyfriend but also see him struggle too with his known insecurities. I am obsessed with it. I don’t know if I say it but this show actually goes in depth with how the parts of the relationship worked in individuality and then they go about their relationship in pairs. Love is not about finding a boy who will fix all our problems (we wish) but to give us encouragement and support to actually get to that place where we can be fully ourselves. I like that Sky wasn’t automatically “fixed” after him and Pai became official; the nightmares are still there, the insecurities too, are not all gone just because Pai is there. They got better, yes, but not faded. That’s a work in progress and the part in the beach where Pai says he will wait until Sky is ready and even if he is not, he will still be there OH MY GOD, PEAK CINEMATOGRAPHY AND SCREENWRITING. Nothing, and I say, nothing in the BL universe will ever top that scene, sorry for all the BLs to come but my heart has already sealed that place with that scene. 

Masterminds

Also, I think the idea of Rain and Sky planning the trip beforehand and doing it for their boyfriends makes more sense than thinking they were just living in the moment. Like, for real, we are talking about architecture students. I don’t really think they have a bone of spontaneity in their body when it comes to things like their boyfriends. Why else will we have not only Rain BUT Sky too give his boyfriend the time of their lives? Like, they had some planning to do in their free time away, don't get me wrong; they do enjoy it for a while but they do get really into giving their boyfriends a surprise because they both knew they were coming to get them. 

Last thoughts

Anyway, I will say I love this episode more than the entire series all together because of how much I love already established relationships and their dynamics. However, I also think it is a good way to end both couples' stories and show how they work after all the drama they have been through. I love PaiSky more for the emotional support, the slow-burn and the reverse meeting (fucking then feelings) but I like PhayuRain for comfort and cuteness; more from Rain tho. Overall, the story and the elements work really well most of the time and the weather is such a great element present all over the series and gives it a more strong feeling and is a hint on how much the story took effort to build.

Now, let’s go find another show to hyperfixate and write shit about.  

Ratings: 

Plot: 8.5/10 

Directing: 9 (first half) - 7 (last half) /10 

Acting: 8/10 

Satisfaction: 9/10

Overall: 8.5.

[sp1rit-realm]

₊‧꒰ა 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ⧿ 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐮𝐩𝐬! 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮��� 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟, 𝐚 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢'𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐮𝐩 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞!

Happy 900!!!! Ummm Marauders maybe? but if you think someone else fits better I assure you I don’t mind.

Where to start, i’m pretty quiet, like very very soft spoken until im really comfortable in a room. Once I know someone I’m still quiet in volume but then i can talk for at least 15 minutes straight without losing my rhythm and i get very very animated, lots of facial expressions, too many hands waving around. I like reading but I can’t call myself a bookworm because I take too long to finish them and usually give up so i’m more of a book dragon. I love writing and art and being creative and I love to learn but i hate to be graded. My favorite color is burgundy and my favorite season is whatever one it currently is until the very end and i’m sick of it, then i like whichever one is coming next. I like to collect things and i’m way too sentimental. I like rain and leather jackets and i don’t know if you want any physical attributes but im short enough that literally everyone comments when i wear tall shoes (i have platform doc martins with a heel so it’s only like 4 inches which i guess is a lot over all but even then Im only up to like 5’6-‘7 barely) And my hair is stuck an almost auburn color because I dyed it dark plum/burgundy in november and now the final claws of goldish red are dug in and i don’t see it letting go, which is especially annoying because my roots are returning much lighter than i last remember but I’ve been dying my hair since at least last June so i don’t know what I really expected. I have identity crises over my hair at least every other week.

In terms of how I love people it’s very much however it works with that person. I like when people like to pay attention to me and look for me in a room and that kind of thing, I also really like to be held and have my hair played with,,,,i find dogs very relatable (but don’t let that sway your decision in anyway, do what your heart tells you)

I’m sure 900 people leads to a lot of asks, but i have no idea, so please take your time and don’t feel rushed or obligated at all. I am so proud of this milestone for you and i’m so proud of all the people coming to their senses to appreciate such a talented spirit like you 💖💖💖

HI MARA!!!!!! THANK U SO MUCH

if you mean marauders era in general, i say (drumroll please)

you and dorcas!

to me, her character is very laid back, but secretly she's so passionate. like, she pretends she doesn't care, but really secretly does. she would adore all the things you collect, and will listen to anything you have to say about them. she'd still have to lean down to kiss you. she would say, "really? new hair again, mara?" and then she would whisper to you, "it's cute, makes your eyes pop." because nobody can know that she adores anybody, until you become official. then, she can't stop talking about you. she will read books to you as you lay your head on her lap, hair being played with. she would dance with you in the rain. she would steal your jacket because it smells like you, and because it means everybody knows you're hers. she would sit and listen to you rant/ramble/infordump and watch lovingly as your mouth moves a mile a second and your tongue gets all twisted. she would hang up your art, proudly displaying it as to say: "yeah, my girlfriend? they're perfect, and talented, and beautiful, and look at this art they made." she would kick someone's teeth in for you, and she winks at you during her quidditch games, loving how much you blush; stark red in the sea of green.

[vastayan--vigilante]

From his periphery, Scar sensed the immediate shift in Jinx's demeanour; she dropped the upset and guiltstricken little girl act (was it truly just an act?) with the ease of shucking off a jacket that she didn't feel like wearing any more, shutting down into that ominous, blank-faced calm. It was an expression the vastayan had grown all too familiar with.

Don't you dare. Not now. I can’t deal with you losing your shit right now.

To Scar's relief, in spite of the less-than-stellar vibes coming from Jinx, she still obeyed his curt instructions - scanning their surroundings for threats while he performed his hasty patch job, and following close behind as he led their retreat.

The way he caught her looking at Ekko's unconscious body was... worrying.

She didn't look visibly upset. There was a detachment there, as though she hadn't fully processed the situation (or simply didn't see the point in pretending to care.) While technically it was useful that she wasn't upset to the point of being unable to pull her weight in getting out of this clusterfuck of a situation, Scar knew better than to trust the lack of emotion.

Beneath the veneer of calm was an explosion just waiting for the right spark to set it off. The vastayan just hoped that if she blew up, it was at the fuckers trying to kill them right now, not at him or any of their crew.

Overhead, he spied Billie and Ray working overtime to distract and draw away enemy fire, trying to give their grounded friends the opportunity to get to safer ground. Scar pulled the pin on a smoke bomb with his teeth and tossed it behind them to help obscure their retreat.

Protecting his fallen friend from further harm, and removing Jinx from the situation before she did something to make the situation even worse were the top priorities. If he could just get them out of immediate danger and behind sufficient cover, the others could handle the rest, and swoop down to pick them up when it was safe to do so. Right now they were only in the way, easy targets out in the open.

Of all the bad scenarios that the vastayan had imagined they might need to deal with, this was one of the worst. With Ekko down, the leash on Jinx was off, and Scar had no doubt that Jinx knew this just was well as he did. There was no telling how long she'd be cooperative for.

“Didya fix him?”

Scar glanced back at her; the stoic armour of his mask thankfully hid his widened eyes and stressed grimace. His voice distorter made his words rumble out in a deep growl.

"...No. Still hurt. But still breathing."

He'd managed to stop the bleeding and deal with the worst of the swelling. There wasn't much else he could do right now, except fervently hope whatever internal damage his friend had sustained wasn't serious, that they would be able to treat him at home, and that he'd eventually wake up okay. A graze from a bullet was one thing, but crashing a hoverboard at speed and from significant height could well have been enough to kill all by itself. Jinx seemed fine - but that just meant she probably hadn't borne the brunt of the impact.

“Y’know, if I’m the one keeping watch, maybe you should give me that giant spear.”

Was she serious?

The last thing Scar wanted to do right now was hand her his weapon. Part of him still anticipated her trying to stab him in the back with it.

But it wasn't like he was able to wield it properly with only one free hand right now, and an unconscious Ekko draped over his shoulder as a literal deadweight. It wasn't like he'd be disarmed either; he still had his clawed gauntlet, a couple of smoke bombs, and a crystal bomb left. If Jinx did decide to come at him (or just proved to suck at her new job of covering his ass), Scar wouldn’t be defenceless.

Were those figures approaching through the haze of smoke?

Fuck it.

By way of response, the vastayan curtly held out the spear to her, without breaking stride.

"Stay close. Don't go rogue."

Keep your shit together. Prove that Ekko was right to trust you to come along on these jobs.

@just--a--jinx

"We have to leave - now." (@vastayan--vigilante)

The world seemed to move at a different speed when you were under fire. There was a rush. A thrill. Everything seemed to slow down. Jinx felt herself react the moment she felt the impact. At the front of the board Ekko became a sudden deadweight, careening them into a death spiral. 

Back five seconds. 

In a blink, they were flying high again, the glint of the watch now nestled in Jinx’s hand. The shot was going to come again and they needed to move out of the way this time. There wasn’t time to think about what had just happened. Did Ekko even know? A sharp tug at Ekko’s sleeve sought to direct his attention as Jinx planted her weight on the board, leaning them away. The shot rang out once more. Ekko dropped again, this time accelerating their fall with the added angle of the board. 

Shit!

It was impossible to try the watch again as they fell. She had to hold on. At this rate they were both going to–

The noise of the impact drowned everything else out. Dazed, Jinx lay in the wreckage of the hoverboard, aching, bruised and bleeding. Only after her mind processed what had just happened did she lurch back to life to where Ekko lay motionless. 

His mask was shattered and far, far too much blood coming from his head. 

Ice cold panic crept in. 

No. This couldn’t happen. Had she messed up with the watch? What if she’d tried something different? Pale hands mapped Ekko in silent horror and disbelief, feeling for any signs of life. 

“No, no no no no nononono…” A mournful sound built at the back of Jinx’s throat. She knew what this looked like. She recognised it. She’d seen it with her parents. With Vander. With Silco. Now Ekko, too. 

Was it too late?

If Ekko was dead, what would the other Firelights do with her? Would they turn on her like Silco’s men? 

…Would they blame her? 

The thought made Jinx want to slip away into the shadows and never return. 

All your fault. All your fault. ALL YOUR FAULT. 

Hollow, tear-filled eyes looked down at Ekko. 

What would Ekko want her to do? 

After a moment of digging, Jinx pulled a flare from the pack, casting a plume of white smoke into the air. The others were going to be close by. Hopefully they’d be closer than Corina’s people. Ekko’s no-gun rule was proving extra stupid when everyone else they were up against had them. If he lived, Jinx resolved to use this to cement her ongoing argument. 

It wasn’t long before the recognisable mask of Scar arrived at the scene. Relief and dread coursed through Jinx’s veins. 

Too late! Too late! Tick tock! It’s too LATE!

"We have to leave - now."

…Had Scar seen Ekko, motionless in the dark? Did he think Ekko was still awake behind the mask? 

“...I was trying to help–” Jinx’s words were thick as she wrung her bloodstained hands. How were they going to leave? It would be better for Scar to just take Ekko and leave her here, Jinx thought. 

“He won't wake up.”

[grigori77]

“Nobody even knows what the hell a UAP is.”

So yeah, remember that bit in Nope where Angel’s going off on his conspiracy theorist rant about UFOs and aliens and he talks about how a few years back the US Government declassified all that Area 51 shit and then they stopped calling them UFOs and gave them a new designation of UAP.  And I spent the next ten minutes wondering what it could actually stand for now, and the ONLY THING I could think of that made any kind of sense, that sounded vaguely plausible, was Unidentified Aerial Predators (yeah, I know now there’s also the idea of Unidentified Aerial Phenomena, but forgive me for how my logistical brain works).  And then I was thinking that that would have to mean that the aliens definitely WERE hostile and they were here to PREY ON US ... and then came the whole new revelation that it’s NOT EVEN an alient spaceship but LITERALLY an airborne predatory beast.  And so I was like YEAH, TOTALLY, that definitely works.

Then I went to see it again today and when we got to that bit it suddenly occured to me that that not only MUST THAT BE what it actually stands for, but then it naturally follows that it therefore MUST MEAN that the US Government is not only ENTIRELY AWARE of these entities living in the skies above us, but they’re okay with just letting them be, allowing them to prey on the outliers and let a few people disappear every now and then, instead of simply LETTING US KNOW they’re there and SURE, freaking us all out, but then ultimately it would, like Angel later says when they’re planning the final mission to capture footage of Jean Jacket, SAVE SOME LIVES.

And at first I’m like, but wait, there’s no way ANY responsible government would actually really go along with that kind of thing, to cover up such an obvious, glaring threat to people’s daily lives, to PUT THEIR CITIZENS at horrific daily risk.  But then I got to thinking that, wait, this is basically THIS US Government we’re talking, the one we’ve had in place for a while now, but in particular with Trump and then the fallout we’re STILL having to deal with ... and yeah, I can actually TOTALLY BUY that these arseholes would ACTUALLY DO THAT.  It makes distinct fucked up sense.  And of course it’s Peele, he’s using this to make a comment on the state of the US Government that actually tried to pretend for so long that COVID wasn’t happening, or then that it wasn’t that big a deal, or then that it had this shit under control as the death-toll skyrocketed ...

Damn, Jordan, your new movies CONTINUES to blow me away with its genius ...

[kenny-power]

Let's pretend - J.C. x reader

Warning(s) - none A/N - I've been very inspired to write recently, so any feedback at all is appreciated!<3

It’s not uncommon for me to be woken up by a gentle tapping on my window. That meant it was a bad night for Johnny, that he couldn’t handle his parents’ fighting and didn’t want to go all the way to the lot or Pony’s. It seemed to happen a lot more recently. 

The first time it happened was before we started dating. It was a rainy night, super cold and windy. So that ruled out the lot for Johnny, and apparently it was bad enough that he couldn’t make it all the way to Pony’s without getting soaked to the bone. 

I live halfway between Johnny’s and Pony’s house, which meant when we were growing up, my house was the typical meeting place for our ‘adventures’. However, those got fewer and fewer as we grew up, until us hanging out stopped entirely. We still said hi to each other at school and stuff, but it wasn’t the same as it was. 

Until the night he was at my window. 

Neither of the boys had ever stayed the night before, but that changed when Johnny repeatedly tapped on my window that night until I could hear it over the thunder. As soon as I opened the window, apologies spewed from his lips before I could stop them. 

“I…I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come here. I woke you up. Man, I’m so sorry. I’ll just…I’ll just go.” He didn’t stop apologizing about waking me up until I literally had to shove him to my bed and force him to lay down. 

“Johnny, shut up, you’re my friend, I would let you stay here every night if you needed.” That made him feel less guilty and he seemed to accept my answer. We fell asleep that night, side-by-side, barely even touching. 

This happened several times over the next two weeks, before finally, finally, he plucked up the courage to ask me to the drive-in the next night. It was nice. I didn’t know how much I missed hanging out with him until that night. I missed his quiet sense of humor and how he always tried to quietly have control of situations. Despite his seemingly jumpy demeanor, when he lets you get close enough to him, you can tell how strong he really is. 

At the end of the night, he walked me to my door and I kissed him on the cheek. When he snuck in my window later that night, I gave him a kiss for real. We’ve been dating ever since. 

Yawning, I slipped out of my bed and padded over to my first-floor window. Standing in the landscaping, shivering, and sporting a black eye, was my boyfriend Johnny. 

I gasped before opening the window and stepping back to let him climb through. As soon as he was in and closed the window I wrapped him in a tight hug. He was shaking. 

“Johnny?” I whispered. “Are you okay?” He didn’t answer, instead maneuvering me back to my bed. Lifting the covers, he gently pushed me down on the bed. He paused to slip off his jacket and kick off his shoes, then crawled under the blankets. 

I tried again, “Johnny?” This time, he just shook his head and pulled me close to him. I wrapped my arms around his waist, despite being under the multiple blankets on my bed, his shaking did not stop. “Johnny, you’re freezing.” 

There was silence, then, “I went to the lot first, but there were a couple of socs already there, lookin’ for a fight. That’s how I got this,” he gestured to his face. “I’m sorry for barging in, I just … I had to get away, y’know?” I leaned my face up to his, placing a soft kiss on his jawline. No matter how many times I have to tell him not to apologize, he still does.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I asked, running my hands up and down his arms to bring some warmth back. He shook his head.

“Tonight, let’s pretend that we’re the only two people in the world.” I smiled softly, kissing closer to his mouth, but not quite reaching it. 

“As you wish,” I whispered, barely audible. He rested his forehead against mine, looking deeply into my eyes before kissing me deeply.

“I love you so much,” he breathed, “so much it hurts. You are the greatest thing that ever happened to me, you know? I don’t know what I’d do without you.” I kissed him back, pulling away only to say “I love you” back, before kissing him again. 

Eventually, we got tired and decided it was time to actually sleep. As we laid side-by-side, I spoke up suddenly.

“One day,” I whispered, turning to face him, “I’m gonna take us away from here. I’m gonna buy us a house and we’re gonna live in it together and no ones gonna bother us. Not your parents, not mine, and not any damn socs.” Johnny laughed quietly before kissing me on the forehead.

“I thought the man is supposed to be the one to do all that stuff.” I smiled.

“If we’re pretending it’s just us in the world, I think we can also pretend that I can do all of that stuff.” 

“As you wish,” he repeated my earlier statement, before kissing me one more time and pulling me close to him.

[athyathye]

Another person has feelings for you

(Mikey, Chifuyu, and Kazutora)

Author's note 📝: I was planning on making it one of the main members....but that would be unrealistic lol

Warnings ⚠️: the usual curse words and violence cuz these boys do that on the daily!

Mikey :

Honestly, how dare they have feelings for their superior’s significant other.

As you were flaunting around Toman’s base with Mikey’s jacket wrapped around your shoulders, a person approached you.

He was probably one of the lesser known members as he looked insignificant but too cocky for his own good.

You realized he had been holding something in his hand, something that could literally get him a ticket to the afterlife.

“H-hey, y/n right? You’ve got a pretty smile, I-” He said with a grin that was the opposite of charming.

Did he think he could pull you with a f*ck boy aura?

He got interrupted by somebody pushing past him, he was shoved hardly by the face.

“Who do you th- Captain!” He changed his tone immediately, turning into a tamed wet kitten as he bowed before his leader.

“Oh? What were you gonna say earlier?” Mikey threateningly said,, not looking at the guy as he zipped his own jacket so it would fit you more, showcasing the way his name was in front of the zipped jacket.

While you huffed at his obvious marking of his ‘property’ you bet he was going to get real sulky after this whole ordeal.

“N-not-” “F*cking finish it.” He said, not bothering to leap around the bush as he glared at the person in front of him.

The person cowered, deciding to look down on the ground to avoid Mikey’s cynical gaze as he tried to hide the object in his hands, crumpling it but making a rather loud noise in the process.

The area was silent, watching the interaction but being ‘lowkey’ about it, by that i mean continuously glancing at the scene before moving away or just pretending to do something while walking closer to the group of 3.

Mikey didn’t  notice, focused on the piece of paper on his hand, opting to snatch it before he could get away.

He read the contents before crumpling and ripping it apart, fury in his eyes as he watched the member who bowed on his knees.

He just stood there, emotionless as he continued to look down on the member.

A light tug on his shirt snapped him out of his senses, looking at you then back at the member

Before doing a fast 360-kick on the member, throwing him against the wall.

“Don’t ever show your sorry ass to us again.”

Chifuyu :

He knew there was no way you could cheat on him, after all you were someone who valued the people in your life, appreciating them as much as possible.

That was one of the many things he loved about you.

Though, he couldn’t help but feel uneasy by the way someone was dangerously close to you.

Hand on the wall beside you, face near yours though the lower halves were hidden by the hand.

He was looking at you intensely, but you weren’t trying to push him away. Chifuyu found that the most confusing.

Though he could see the slimy grin on the man’s face and that was finally when he made an appearance.

He walked stridently towards your figures, a mean look on his face as he grabbed the guy by his clothes before forcefully pulling him away from you.

He saw you looking up at him, confusion swirled in your eyes but never did you question him.

He looked damn near ready to explode and you kind of liked that….Jealous Chifuyu was rare, and damn was he hot.

“Who?” He turned towards you, fist clenched and expression looking like he meant business.

“Hey I wasn’t done ta-” “The f*ck asked you, motherf*cker. I wasn’t talking to you.”

You glanced at the vein on Chifuyu’s neck looking extremely ready to burst from madness.

“Well I wasn’t talking to you either” The other person remarked as he scoffed.

Looking at Chifuyu up and down before grabbing your wrist.

Almost forcefully dragging you with him, though Chifuyu wasn’t just going to let some b*stard grab you like that.

He snatched your other wrist, pulling you to his body, though the other person didn’t budge, only grasping your wrist tighter it started to hurt.

Ok now you were getting slowly irritated, though you’d do anything to see this dominating aura of Chifuyu.

“Listen. You better get your grimy hands off my girl. Pronto.” For someone who looked small compared to others, his energy certainly didn’t match it.

Not one to lower his pride, the man in fact, did not let go. Only tightening his hold on you as you let out a yelp.

Which made Chifuyu lose it and immediately attack with a punch, not bothering to let him take a breather.

“I warned you, *sshole”

Kazutora :

Frankly, it was not your idea to hangout with one of your classmates.

You had been dragged then left by your friends with this weird guy who kept blushing whenever you were slightly near him.

Did you forget to tell your school friends you had a boyfriend? Probably.

You sighed, glancing at your phone, you had been trying to call Kazutora for the past hour but he wouldn’t answer.

You brushed it off as you boredly looked at the guy in front of you, which made him sweat profusely and flinch.

“U-uhmm what’s your type? C-can I ask that ha-” “Bad boys.”

You said in a straightforward tone, letting the side of your head get cradled by your arms that was propped up on the table.

“O-oh...” He looked dejected and you had to admit, you kind of felt bad, but still you had to be honest with him instead of stringing him along with false hope.

He was about to start another conversation when he felt himself getting doused in sticky pineapple juice.

You stood up in alarm, the surprise appearance of your boyfriend catching you off guard.

“I don’t want to be the bearer of bad news but...oh wait I do” Kazutora had taunted, his fingers snapping in front of the guy’s face as he made him focus and look at Kazutora.

“If I ever see you near my girl, even just slightly in the same area, I’ll kill you.” He said, closing his eyes with a sadistic grin, before fully opening them again.

But this time there was no smile, all that was left was a face that plotted murder, furthering his threats by sliding his thumb across his neck.

“I-i-i-” “Kazu!!” You called out to him, dragging him away from the poor boy who looked like he was about to pee his pants.

“Where were you!? I tried calling you.” You pouted at him. Though he didn’t seem to listen as he glared at the guy before you.

You clicked your tongue in distaste, showing him your displeasure as you rolled your eyes.

You decided to take him away before he could land himself in juvie once more, grabbing his forearm as you started to drag him out.

Though before you could leave the guy from earlier had gone and called out to you, making you freeze.

“Please give me your number!!!” He bowed down. ‘What the-’ You thought, nobody was this….courageous, more like stupid in front of Kazutora.

Speaking of which, he just stood there with a smile on his face, but of course it had to be the threatening kind.

“Huh? Whadd’ya say? Say it again.”

As soon as the guy opened his mouth, Kazutora took that chance to attack, punching him so hard it made at least 4 of his teeth broken or entirely removed.

“That’s what I thought, b*tch.” Kazutora uttered before grabbing you by the back of your uniform, dragging you along with him to the outside.

[butterflyyeo]

drunk in love

pairing - yeosang x fem reader

genre - fluff, angst (?)

tw - lots of alcohol consumption, swearing

wc - 10k

side ships - seongjoong, yungi

a/n -- was meant to be angst but turned into fluff... im trying my best to get better at writing angst aaaah. but please enjoy this for now <3 thanks for letting me tag you @iminchaosnow !!

------------------------------------------- you had known kang yeosang for nearly two years now. two, dreadfully slow and exhausting years.it was your final year of high school when he transferred to your school, he was a close family friend of wooyoung's. his parents had spoken highly of the school, insisting that yeosang transfers in order to excel for his last year of schooling. as far as you were concerned, he had decent grades, but he preferred to spend his time hanging around the skatepark after dark, when everyone else had left.

and in all the two years you'd known him, you had never once had a full conversation with him, despite being in your group of friends. his side of the 'conversation' usually consisted of monotonous 'yeahs' and 'mhms'. wooyoung constantly assured you it was because he's shy and that he'd eventually open up. but you weren't convinced. you tried so hard for him to like you, but your efforts were fruitless. it was infuriating, feeling like you were constantly doing something wrong whenever you were around him.

you currently found yourself in the backseat of yeosang's car, wedged between a drunken yunho and mingi while a chaotic wooyoung was singing along to his chosen playlist. (though, it sounded more like wailing.)

you and the eight boys had all decided to take a gap year, spend every last cent you earned on adventure and alcohol to make lifelong memories, before your careers became a blockade in your friendship. but the year was coming to an end soon, it was already mid november. on the bright side, that meant your favourite holidays were just weeks away.

yeosang was always the designated driver. that was something you had noticed about him over the last few years. to be honest, you weren't sure just how he coped with a screeching wooyoung, because you sure as hell weren't dealing very well with yunho and mingi who were playing a very intense game of rock paper scissors to decide who would be crashing on the couch in your apartment.

"i win!" mingi cheered, waving his hands excitedly. "you're on the couch, man."

yunho frowned, "damn."

you laughed, "it's okay, yunho. you can share the bed with me if you'd like."

"hey! that's not fair y/n! you said i could this time." wooyoung whined from the front seat.

"sorry, woo. you know i keep my promises, but you're going back to your apartment. remember?" you tried to reason.

wooyoung looked as though someone had switched a lightbulb on behind his eyes, "oh yeah! i forgot."

the four of you burst into laughter, mainly caused by the alcohol and partially because of wooyoung's realisation. and still, yeosang didn't crack a smile, hands just gripping the steering wheel tighter as his knuckles turned white.

soon, you arrived outside your apartment block, quickly stepping out the car after yunho. wooyoung wound his window down and you poked your head in, attempting to hug him goodbye.

"bye woo!" you said, giggling at your faltered farewell.

"good night y/n, thanks for the drinks!" he shouted, exclaiming a bit too loudly next to your ear.

"thanks for the lift as always, yeosang!" you yelled, pulling away from wooyoung's tight hug.

he nodded, "no problem." before putting the window up and driving away.

you pouted, turning around to face the two boys. "i just don't understand what i'm doing wrong." you buried your face into your hands, "why doesn't he like me?" you groaned.

"y/n." mingi began, "its nearly 1am, its way too late for this 'why does yeosang hate me?' crap." he shook your shoulders, literally trying to shake some sense into you.

"yeah, mingi's right. we've had this discussion a thousand times." yunho said grasping your wrist and pulling you up the stairs, stumbling along the way. (because lets be real, stairs are difficult enough as it is, let alone when drunk.) "now, let us into your apartment so we can eat your food and crash on your couch!" he joked, nudging mingi in a playful manner.

you reached into your pocket and fumbled around with they key for a moment before unlocking the door. the boys practically pushed you inside and made a beeline for the fridge.

"help yourselves! i'm going to shower." you called, dragging yourself to your bedroom.

once you'd finished showering you went back to the living room to check on yunho and mingi. not so much to your surprise, they had fallen asleep on your couch already, cuddled up into each other. it was cute, even picture worthy to show their sober selves. you reached for your phone which typically lived in your pocket, though you began to panic when it wasn't there. hurrying around the apartment, you searched every possible nook and cranny for your phone, but it was nowhere to be found. you collapsed onto your bed, snuggling into the soft sheets, too tired to worry about your phone anymore and content with the assumption that you'd left it in yeosang's car.

shortly, your heavy eyes fell shut and you began to sleep away the tequila.

————————

the next morning you awoke to mingi and yunho's deep, hungover voices, discussing their plans for the next week.

you reluctantly pulled yourself out of bed and dawdled down the hallway.

"ah! there's our favourite karaoke partner!" yunho greeted, jokingly.

you laughed, "shh, don't let wooyoung hear you say that."

"she's right, man. he'd be so offended." mingi said, stretching out his sore limbs. "how are you feeling today, y/n?" he asked.

"not the worst hangover i've had. what about you guys? you're welcome to stay here as long as you'd like, until you feel better." you replied, knowing them well enough to know that they'd need at least a few painkillers and a good meal before they went home.

yunho chuckled, "i feel like crap, but nothing a sandwich and glass of water can't solve."

"i second that." mingi said, raising a hand.

"okay, well in that case, i'll go to the store and get something for breakfast. sound good?" you reasoned, running a hand through your hair. you loved these boys, and making them breakfast was just a nice way of showing you cared. drunk or not, they knew how to make you smile and laugh, which they loved to see.

"sounds amazing!" yunho said, breaking into a sincere smile.

you quickly changed out of your pyjamas and slipped some shoes on.

"i might be a bit longer, i need to stop by yeosang's. i think i left my phone in his car." you explained, picking your keys up from the kitchen counter. "see you guys soon! feel free to take a shower if you want." you said, waving goodbye and heading out the door.

"okay, bye y/n!" the boys called from behind you.

the first stop was yeosang's apartment, he only lived about ten minutes away with wooyoung and san, in the same building as jongho. both yunho and mingi lived on the other side of town, which is why they so often crashed at your place after parties. seonghwa and hongjoong were fortunate enough to live in a house, just outside town, they had actually been the hosts of last night's party.

it didn't take long to get there. you pushed open the lobby door and made your way over to the elevator, disappointed to see that it was out of order for maintenance. instead, you took the stairs and began spiralling upwards. less than a minute later you looked up, only to bump into the man you came looking for.

"oh, yeosang! i'm so sorry, i didn't mean to." you quickly apologised, worried about creating another reason for him to dislike you.

"it's fine." he shrugged.

you both began to talk again at the same time, "ah, sorry, you go."

"i was just gonna say, you left your phone in my car. actually, i was about to bring it back." he pulled your phone from the pocket of his jacket, handing it to you. as he did, your fingers brushed against his. he spun around suddenly and began to walk away, "i'll see you around."

he had left before you even had a chance to thank him. slightly confused and frustrated, you turned back around and traipsed down the stairs.

you gathered what you needed for a hearty breakfast at the local convenience store before heading home and spending the rest of the day in the enjoyable company of yunho and mingi.

yeosang had entered back into his apartment and sat down on the couch.

"back already?" wooyoung asked, rummaging through the fridge.

"she was coming to get her phone and i ran into her on the staircase."

wooyoung sighed, "when are you gonna stop hating her?"

"i don't hate her." yeosang said, not looking up from his phone.

"then why do you act like you do?"

yeosang pretended to not hear that question and continued to scroll through his phone. see, he'd rather not dwell on things that he couldn't understand.

————————

to fill up your weekdays during your gap year, you had picked up a job at a hotel in town as a receptionist. to your dismay, your boss had asked you to work night shift all week, which is how you found yourself here on thursday night, sitting alert and waiting for the slight chance that someone might check in at this time of night. it was a pretty fancy hotel, and the job payed well enough, so really, you had nothing to complain about.

the nights seemed to drag on for an eternity. to keep yourself busy, you often wasted time counting the cars that drove past, or tried to count the number of crystals that hung from the chandelier. so far, only a few people had checked in during your shift, having come from overseas and recently arriving at the airport. honestly, whenever someone walked through the front door, lugging a suitcase behind them, you got excited as it gave you something to do.

the clock was creeping up to 4am and you let out a quiet yawn, feeling drowsy as your body clock hadn't yet adjusted to the change of sleeping patterns on such short notice. taking a sip of water, you shook your head, trying to stay awake. your head suddenly jolted up at the sound of the front door opening.

a man stumbled forward, and you'd seen enough zombie movies to become instantly paranoid. you quickly pushed the thought out of your head, feeling ridiculous for even considering it. but as the man got closer, you could smell the cheap, potent alcohol lingering on his body.

he leant against the desk, peering down at you. "i need a room for the night."  he grumbled. "my stupid wife kicked me out." he said under his breath.

you forced a friendly smile, despite feeling uneasy, "of course! i just need you to fill in this form with some simple details." you said, sliding across a clipboard and a pen.

he huffed, picking up the pen and scribbling onto the sheet of paper before pushing it back to you. "can i go now?"

"just a moment, sir." you replied, eyes skimming over the form as you copied the information into the computer in front of you.

the man was growing impatient, stepping from foot to foot with his arms crossed.

"uh, sir, you missed a part of the form. could you please provide your phone number here." you pointed to the empty space on the sheet.

"for fucks sake." he muttered, "i don't have my phone on me and i don't know my phone number." he said, annoyedly tapping on the desk.

"i'm really sorry, sir, but—"

"can't you just find me a fucking room?" he snapped, hands balled into fists and slamming against the desk, making you jump in fright.

before you had time to try and reason with him, he continued to shout.

"you're as stupid as my wife! i'll just find a different fucking hotel." he yelled, swiping the clipboard and pen off the desk. "useless bitch." he mumbled as he kicked over a chair on his way out.

you chewed your bottom lip, trying to fight back the tears. with shaky hands, you picked up your phone and dialled the first place that came to mind. after a few rings, the phone answered.

"woo?" you croaked, trying hard to not cry.

"he's asleep. this is yeosang." he replied, evidently having just woken up by the sound of his voice.

"oh." you began, instantly feeling guilty for waking him up, "i'm sorry i didn't mean to disturb you."

"did you need something?" he asked.

"i just, i was..." you let out a sob, wiping at a tear falling from your eye.

this didn't go unnoticed by yeosang, "are you crying? what are you doing awake right now anyway?"

"i'm at work." you managed to choke out.

"at 4am?"

"i'm on night shift."

"why are you crying then?" he asked, feeling something slightly tug at his heart, but choosing to ignore it.

you began to ramble, "a man came in and he was really drunk and complaining about his wife and then he yelled at me because i asked him to give his phone number and—"

"i'm on my way." yeosang cut you off.

"what?"

"i'll be there in ten." with that, he hung up the phone.

exactly ten minutes later, you were sat in the passenger seat of yeosang's car. he was dressed in sweats, clearly having come straight from bed. you'd left a note on the desk, explaining to your coworker why you wouldn't be there when she arrived to take over your shift. a silence filled the car, and you felt the need to talk, but chose not to, worried about giving yeosang another reason to hate you.

once you arrived outside your apartment building, you were surprised that yeosang got out the car too and trailed closely behind you up the stairs to your apartment. when you reached the door you spun around to face him.

"thank you for bringing me home." you said, voice quiet and still rather shaken up.

"it's no problem. good night, y/n." he replied, sensing that you were still upset. he suddenly felt this overwhelming urge to wrap his arms around you tightly and not let go until you stopped crying. he wanted to protect you from every drunk idiot on the planet. he wanted to make you feel safe.

but instead, he watched as you closed the door behind you and locked it from inside.

————————

you arrived at work the next morning, instantly feeling more comfortable with cleaners, employees and people coming and going. immediately, you headed for your boss's office.

"good morning, sir. i just wanted to come and apologise for leaving my shift early last night. i can assure you it won't happen again." you said, feeling nervous as to what your boss might say.

he shook his head, "i should be the one apologising, a man came in this morning and spoke very sternly about the safety problems here. i realise now how stupid it was of me to make you work night shift, alone, at such a young age. we've hired security guards and have also made sure that two people will be on desk at all times. i'm sorry that you had to deal with that."

you were at a loss for words, you didn't think that there would be such drastic changes just from the once incident. "thank you so much." you replied.

"for now, take the rest of the day off. you'll only be working day shifts for next week and can return to doing night shifts whenever you feel ready to do so." your boss said, motioning for the door.

the rest of the day you spent in deep sleep, catching up on some much overdue rest.

———————

weeks passed and you found that work was much more enjoyable. you still hadn't returned to working night shifts, but at least now you had someone to run the front desk with you and keep you company.

this weekend, you were going to visit hongjoong and seonghwa. hongjoong was sick and so you decided to go help out since seonghwa couldn't always be there to look after him.

you knocked on their front door and was surprised to be greeted by san.

"good afternoon! come in." he gave you a hug before ushering you inside.

"what are you doing here?" you said, following him down the hall.

in the living room, you saw all eight of the boys gathered around a couch-ridden hongjoong.

"jongho was already here when me, yeosang and woo arrived." san explained.

"yeah, and then mingi and yunho turned up." wooyoung continued.

"y/n! i have never been more glad to see you! you gotta save me from them." hongjoong laughed, arms open, signalling for a hug.

you went over and embraced him in a hug, "good thing i brought an excessive amount of cookies." you said, placing the box of cookies on the coffee table next to the couch. the table was covered in empty mugs and bowls, you could tell seonghwa had been busy and hadn't had the chance to clean up. you opened up the box and handed him a cookie before offering them around to the rest of the boys.

"you're the best cook ever." mingi said, taking a big bite.

"i made you spaghetti last night!" yunho countered, feeling offended that his roommate didn't think he was the better cook. mingi just laughed and took another bite.

"jongho get off the counter, please." seonghwa said, coming through the front door. "don't be so comfortable, you were throwing up in my toilet like a month ago." he joked.

yeosang glanced your way, his eyebrows furrowed like he was contemplating something.

"lets head off and give these two some space." yunho said, dragging mingi behind him.

wooyoung stood up, "yeah, lets get going."

yeosang pulled his keys from his pocket, "okay, bye guys." he said, heading down the hallway.

"can we get some food on the way home?" you heard san call as they left.

"bye hongjoong! i hope you're feeling better soon." jongho said, "bye seonghwa, i promise i won't throw up in your toilet any time soon." he joked, leaving through the front door.

"seonghwa, how are you? don't forget to take some time for yourself as well." you frowned.

"i'm tired, but i'll be okay. i just gotta clean up and—"

"why don't you go rest a while? i can keep hongjoong company for a few hours." you reasoned, wanting to help as much as possible. there was nothing you hated more than seeing you friends in distress and upset.

he looked between hongjoong and yourself, "i couldn't."

hongjoong let out an audible huff, "hwa! will you just let her help please, she clearly wants to."

you grinned, "exactly, now go read or sleep or watch some tv or something." you said, gently pushing him towards their shared bedroom.

you spent the afternoon tidying up and talking with hongjoong. you managed to do all the dishes and put them away before scouring their kitchen, deciding on what you could use for dinner. you found everything you needed for a decent meal and began cooking it up. hongjoong had dozed off mid conversation, surrounded in a pile of tissues, you chose to let him sleep so he would recover quicker.

about an hour later, you placed two steamy hot meals onto their dining table next to two full glasses of water. you quietly knocked on their bedroom door, finding seonghwa asleep amongst the covers.

you gently shook him awake, "hwa, i made dinner for you guys. you can wake joong up, i'll head off now." you said with a smile.

leaving the two of them to enjoy their dinner, you headed home and cooked yourself something to eat. it was nice having some time to yourself, but saturday nights were becoming more and more empty as winter grew closer. december was only days away and the year would soon come to an end. you reached for the phone, suddenly desperately missing your friends despite only seeing them hours ago.

"hey woo, are you free next weekend?" you asked.

he paused a moment, "i think so, why?"

"you wanna go out with the others? it's been a while since we have all caught up for drinks."

"count me in!" wooyoung cheered.

you called everyone else up and they all agreed, even hongjoong promised to come if he was feeling better.

————————

you found yourself surrounded by wooyoung, san, yunho and mingi as the music blared. it was a less popular club on the far side of town but it was a comfortable place for you all. you often came here for drinks and the staff members knew you, quite well, a little too well. san grabbed your hand and spun you around a few times with the music.

you laughed, leaning against him, "maybe spinning around isn't the best idea right after two shots of vodka."

"what?" san yelled into your ear, struggling to hear you over the music.

you laughed louder, pulling him closer to you, "i said, spinning is not a good idea after drinking vodka!"

"oh!" he joined you in laughing before trying to twirl you around once more.

hongjoong and seonghwa sat at the bar, holding hands and being intimate as always. yeosang was sat next to jongho at a booth, quietly talking with him, but from the corner of your eye, you saw jongho stand up and walk away. your eyes watched him worriedly and you couldn't help but run after him. you followed him as best you could, stumbling every now and then. he'd gone to the bathroom so you patiently waited outside until he came back, looking slightly pale.

you practically leapt at him, doing a quick scan to make sure he was okay, "jongho? are you alright?"

he smiled at your overwhelming concern, "yeah, i just drank too much as usual. i'll be alright, you can go back to dancing."

"let me just get you some water first. i'll be right back okay?" you patted his shoulder. "don't go anywhere i'll be back in a second."

you made your way back to where jongho had been sitting with yeosang. as you approached, yeosang eyed you up and down, taking in your drunken state, though, it wasn't the first time he'd seen you this way. you nearly tripped as you reached the table, struggling to walk in heels.

"i need a glass of water, do you have a glass of water? jongho needs a glass of water." you mumbled to yourself, reaching for the jug in the center of the table.

"are you okay?" yeosang asked, quickly pushing your hand away from the jug.

"i'm okay, but jongho needs water. can i take this cup? he's waiting for me, i told him not to go anywhere, i need to get back to jongho—" you tried to pick up a glass but yeosang pressed your hand back down once more.

"i'll take it to him, you stay here." he said, filling the cup full with water and heading towards the bathrooms.

your brain suddenly felt fuzzy and your eyes became blurry, it was like the alcohol hit your system all at once. your head spun round and round and you leaned forward, resting your hands on your head. you'd never felt this sick from drinking, maybe you'd had too much too quickly, maybe it was the spinning. there was no way to tell, all you knew was that you felt like you were about to fall from the top of a very high roller coaster.

your eyes felt increasingly heavy, you allowed them to slip shut, head falling to the table with a not so gentle thud.

"y/n?" someone shook you, "y/n wake up!" it was wooyoung.

"shit, is she okay? should we call an ambulance?" jongho said, reaching for his phone.

"is she breathing? has anyone checked?" seonghwa gently lifted your shoulders and sat you upright, relieved to see the rise and fall of your chest. "we should call a taxi and get her home."

"are you crazy? she's unconscious, she won't be able to get up the stairs to her apartment! what if the driver is dodgy? she's already had to deal with shitty men while working night shift, imagine if something happened while she's drunk!" yeosang blurted out. the boys were shocked over his sudden concern for you. yeosang had never once shown any interest or care for you in the presence of them.

"well, what should we do then?" mingi asked, worriedly running a hand through his hair.

"i'll take her, you've all been drinking." yeosang concluded. "she'll be fine, don't worry. enjoy the rest of your night, okay? i've dealt with woo passing out before remember?"

"that's true." san said, throwing a light hearted glare in wooyoung's direction, who showed a rather sheepish expression.

the boys went back to their drinks, taking it a little slower now and yeosang carried you to his car. it wasn't easy, but he managed to sit you upright in the back seat of his car with his rear view mirror aimed directly at you so he could make sure you were okay.

he was able to lift you up the stairs and get your house key from the pocket of your jacket, which would've looked questionable to anyone else, but he had the best intentions. he sat you down in a dining chair, watching as your head lolled forward and your body slumped. he quickly filled a glass of water and came back to you.

"y/n." he whispered, resting a hand on your shoulder. "y/n." he said again, louder this time.

the last thing he wanted to do was hurt you, but you weren't waking up and that was becoming concerning. he shook your shoulder, as gently as he possible could in a moment like this, and to his relief, your eyes hesitantly opened.

your head felt like a bowling ball and you groaned quietly. "yeosang?"

"here." he said holding the cup to your lips, allowing you to take a small sip.

"how did we get here?" you mumbled, head rolling to the side.

he caught your head and carefully pushed you back upright, "i drove you, this is your apartment."

"oh." you said, eyes drooping shut again. "oh." you repeated.

"y/n, i really need you to stay awake right now." he said, bringing the cup to your mouth again. "lets talk."

"we never talk!" you exclaimed. "this is the longest conversation we've ever had!"

"i know." he said, pulling up a chair to sit directly in front of you. yeosang felt that slight tug at his heart again tonight, the way you sounded so excited just to talk with him.

"no, no, no." you whined, "this is so bad!"

"what is it?"

you pouted before nervously biting your lip, "i'm really sorry."

"for what?" he questioned, leaning back in his chair.

"for ruining your night and making you stay here with me! now you just have another reason to hate me." you sighed, letting your head fall into your hands.

"i could never hate you." he said, voice barely above a whisper.

but you had fallen back asleep, so yeosang sat you upright once more and monitored you closely all night. with every minute that passed, he wished more and more that it was easier for him to show his emotions, to you especially. he wondered if maybe he wasn't so closed off that things would be different between the two of you. but it was hard for him, to let people in, he was afraid. afraid of people judging the real him, afraid of what might happen if he lets himself become vulnerable, afraid of facing his feelings about you.

you awoke hours later with a raging headache and extreme nausea. you headed straight for the bathroom and hunched over the toilet, feeling the sickest you'd ever felt. yeosang waited patiently outside the bathroom door with a glass of water and painkillers.

when you came out, he held his hand out, "take this."

you looked down at his hand and then up at him, slightly confused, "what are you doing here?"

"you passed out last night, and i drove you home because everyone else had been drinking." he said, passing the glass of water.

"oh my god." you ran a hand through your hair, "yeosang, i'm so sorry. i didn't mean to be any trouble! you must of been here all night, i promise it won't happen again, that was so stupid of me—"

"it's fine, don't worry about it." he said, shrugging, "i'll get going now, but make sure you take it easy and drink enough water." his eyes carefully scanned your body one last time, making sure you were really okay. he headed for the door and you followed.

"i'm really sorry." you frowned, feeling as though no amount of apologies would make it up to him.

he let out a slight chuckle, "it's okay, seriously y/n." he said before leaving. you heard the all too familiar jingle of his keys as the door closed behind him.

he'd stayed with you all night, eyes watching over you closely. ready at your side whenever you stirred in your sleep. he'd been there in the morning prepared with water and painkillers. this was never how it was, usually this was your job, taking care of the boys. it was your way of showing you cared, helping out wherever possible.

this wasn't like yeosang. at all.

————————

as soon as yeosang got home he was greeted by a very concerned san and wooyoung.

"is she okay?"

"are you tired?"

"did she wake up?"

he was bombarded by questions.

"she's okay, she fell asleep after a while and i made her take some painkillers when she woke up." yeosang said, collapsing onto the couch.

"so you really don't hate her then." wooyoung thought aloud.

"he can't, he spent the whole night looking after her!" san said, hitting wooyoung like it was obvious.

"owww," wooyoung rubbed his arm, "even she thinks you don't like her!"

"i know, she said last night. but she probably won't remember saying that." yeosang said, feeling increasingly drowsy from his lack of sleep.

"maybe you guys should like, talk things out?" san suggested, taking a seat next to him.

"maybe." yeosang said, drifting off into sleep.

you had spent the day curled up in bed, wondering how you could make it up to yeosang, and there was nothing more you wanted than to get to know him better, but what would he want? you called up san on that thought.

"hey sannie," you said, "i need your help, actually, is woo there as well?"

"oh my god she's alive!" you heard wooyoung call from beside san.

"what do you need help with?" san asked.

you paused a moment, "is yeosang there?"

"well yes, but he's asleep."

you groaned, "i feel so bad that he stayed up all night looking after me. i really wanna make it up to him but i don't know how. plus, it's not like he's that fond of me. maybe i should just thank him by staying out of his space."

"i don't think he'd like that." wooyoung interjected. "i still think he just needs time before opening up to you."

"i think its just me." you sighed, worriedly chewing on your bottom lip.

"hey! don't be like that! there's no reason to not like you." san scolded you for down talking yourself as he always does.

"agreed." wooyoung said, chiming in.

"i'm sure i'll work something out. thanks guys! enjoy the rest of your day!" you said.

"good luck!"

"bye y/n!"

————————

you had been staring at your phone for at least an hour, typing and retyping the message to yeosang. wooyoung gave you his number so that you could contact him when you'd finally worked out how to make it up to him. in the end, you decided that you would let him decide.

you drew in a sharp breath and squeezed your eyes tightly shut as you pressed send.

you: hey yeosang, i still feel really bad about the other day, i wanna know how i can make it up to you !!

yeosang: did wooyoung give you my number? T~T

you: yes he did.. i hope thats okay !

yeosang: of course yeosang: how about you make it up to me over a cup of coffee? >.<

you: that sounds great !! you: when are you free ?

yeosang: does tomorrow morning work for you ? i can pick you up ^_^

you: of course ! i'll see you tomorrow :)

yeosang sat in his room, facepalming. why was it so easy to be more open over text?

you on the other hand, felt your heart swell in a bizarre way. maybe it was the way you hadn't expected him to use such cute little emoticons. maybe it was the way that you'd be able to have a full conversation with him. whatever it was, excitement had taken over you.

————————

a knock pounded at your door and you rushed to open it.

"ready to go?" he asked, leaning against the door frame coolly.

"yes, lets go!" you said, sounding a little too excited.

the two of you made your way down the stairs and into yeosang's car. you found yourself smiling as you looked out the window.

your excitement hadn't gone unnoticed, "you seem awfully excited."

"i really wanted to make it up to you," you beamed. "it must've been boring to watch over me all night."

"i didn't mind so much." he said, shrugging.

you frowned, "you shouldn't of done it."

"and leave you passed out in the club?" he quirked an eyebrow up at you.

"well..."

"exactly." he said, parking the car outside a small cafe nearby his apartment. "come on, lets go inside."

you followed him in and took a seat across from him at a table close to the window. you both ordered coffees and resumed conversation.

"so, where were we?" you smiled, taking a sip of coffee.

"talking about how you wanted me to leave you passed out in the club." he said. you were almost convinced you saw a teasing smile pulling at his lips.

"right. i'm so sorry about that."

this time he actually chuckled, and you were taken aback. it was like the wall yeosang had surrounding himself was crumbling before your eyes.

"you need to apologise less." he laughed, bringing his coffee cup to his mouth for a sip. "half of the time we talk its just you saying sorry to me."

"i'm so—"

"hey!" the two of you broke into laughter.

his laugh was loud but warm and you couldn't help but notice the way his nose scrunched up cutely, the way his eyes looked full of stars and the way he brushed his hair out of his eyes after, revealing his beautiful birthmark. from that point on, you wanted to be the one to make him laugh every day.

he felt that familiar tug at his heart, the one he'd been feeling every moment he spent alone with you. the one he felt when he first met you. the one he couldn't make any sense of. it was as though his heart was a violin and you were the one playing it. (which would explain the tugging feeling.) but you were playing the sweetest song and he never wanted it to end.

the two of you laughed the morning away, gradually making up for what you'd missed over two years in a matter of two hours.

you'd discovered that even after getting him to open up more, he wasn't one for words. you found yourself talking his ear off while he listened intently, occasionally sharing his opinions and stories. in all his honesty, he didn't mind listening to you talk. he could've sat there all day, drinking countless cups of coffee, watching the way you bit your bottom lip whenever you paused to think or the way your eyes filled with sparkles when you talked about something that made you happy.

you insisted on paying for the infinite cups of coffee, as it was your way of making it up to him. he reluctantly agreed, but promised that he would pay if there ever was a next time, which he secretly hoped there would be. he'd finally had the chance to let his walls down. (it was actually more like you'd climbed the walls and torn them down with your bare hands.) but he was thankful for it.

he drove you back to your apartment, even after you persisted on walking home, seeing as it wasn't that far. he refused, insisting that he drive you. he even followed you up the stairs to the door of your apartment.

you turned around to face him, "you know, you're not so bad when you actually wanna talk to me."

"you know, you're not so bad when you're not drunk." he countered, his lips breaking into a playful grin.

you glared jokingly, "hey! don't make me apologise again."

"okay, okay. i won't." he said, raising his hands in defence.

you smiled, resting against the door, "alright, well, i've really enjoyed hanging out with you today. maybe we should catch up more often."

"maybe we should." he said, bearing a coy smile, "bye, y/n. i'll see you around."

————————

it was only about a week later he showed up at your work, at the end of your shift. you were pleasantly surprised to see him, and at first thought he was just someone coming to book a room.

"hello, are you looking for a r— yeosang?"

"when do you get off work?" he asked, glancing over to the clock.

"five minutes."

"i'll be waiting in the car, okay?" he said, turning on his heel and heading for the door.

on his way out, you saw as he ran into your boss, the two of them beginning conversation.

"it's good to see you've made those security changes." yeosang said as he nodded, extending his arm for a friendly handshake. "i'm very thankful."

your boss shook his hand, "and i'm thankful that you suggested them."

just over five minutes later you got into the passenger seat of yeosang's car.

"it was you who told my boss about the safety problems." you said, in near disbelief.

"hello, to you too." he joked sarcastically. "well, i would hate to think that the situation could happen again, so i just suggested some possible improvements. thats all." he shrugged like it was nothing.

"suddenly, i feel the need to make it up to you again." you smiled shyly.

"you can do that by accompanying me to the skate park." he said, motioning to his skateboard on the back seat.

"ah, so thats why you came."

"well yeah, i wanted to bring you to the skate park."

your heart swelled once again, feeling joyed that he wanted to share one of his favourite places with you. (despite him never telling you directly, you knew he loved the skate park as he spent majority of his high school time there when he wasn't studying.)

when you arrived, the sun was beginning to slip behind the horizon, causing the sky to glow a rosy pink. there were still a few kids, probably high schoolers, hanging around the park. you took a seat at a bench and waited for yeosang to come over, who was getting his skateboard out the car. you felt oddly out of place since you were still in your neat work uniform and didn't know the first thing about skateboarding.

yeosang rolled over with a grin plastered onto his face, you'd never seen him so happy, and it made you happy to see him this way. it was strange how all it took was a few cups of coffee for him to become a completely different person around you.

he didn't need to ask you to watch as your eyes were already glued to him as he dropped into the bowl, showing countless tricks and flips.

the truth was in fact that yeosang was grateful for you 'making it up to him'. he'd never been able to comprehend his feelings for you, if they were even feelings at all. he hated the confusion and decided it was easier to ignore it, and to an extent, ignore you, to make it go away. it had been working for the most part, until every time the two of you were alone together, he couldn't ignore the slight tug at his heart, that was becoming more of a pull over the last few weeks.

"you're amazing!" you cheered as he sat down next to you, out of breath.

"thanks." he smiled shyly, running a hand through his hair and out of his face. he leaned back, looking up at the sky. "do you sometimes wish you could see the stars from within the city? hongjoong and seonghwa are so lucky they can see them from their house."

you pondered a moment, thinking about the last time you actually saw stars in the sky. "i see stars in your eyes sometimes." you said, absent minded.

he felt warmth burning in his cheeks, "you do?"

"do what?" you turned to him, "did i say that out loud?" you gasped, covering your face in embarrassment. "i'm sorry, i didn't mean to say that it was just a thought and—"

"what did i say about apologising?" he laughed. "it's getting cold, right? you ready to head home?" he asked.

you smiled, "if you are."

he drove you home and said goodbye, feeling happy about spending time alone with you once again. he couldn't stop thinking about what you said and you couldn't stop feeling like a fool for saying it.

————————

the weather got colder and colder and soon it began to snow as the days of december passed. you had spent the day helping jongho move some new furniture into his apartment. it was a difficult job, but easier with the two of you, even san and wooyoung came to help. you couldn't resist wondering where yeosang was and why he didn't come, seeing as they lived in the same building. maybe he was busy, you thought.

"hey, where's yeosang?" you asked, lifting a box and placing it on the kitchen counter.

"at home, i think he's been feeling sick or something, he hardly comes out of his room lately." wooyoung shrugged, assuming it was all good.

"if he's sick i'll bring him over some food and painkillers, maybe keep him some company." you explained, not wanting yeosang to be unwell.

"i think he'd rather be left alone, to be honest." san said, giving wooyoung a side glance that you couldn't miss.

you pulled out your phone and sent yeosang a quick message.

you: are you feeling okay? san and woo said you were sick :((

he didn't respond right away and you just figured he was asleep. but as you finished helping out at jongho's house a few hours later, he still hadn't responded. when you were sitting down to eat dinner at home, he still hadn't respond. just before you were going to turn the lights out and go to bed, he still hadn't responded.

something was up. this wasn't like yeosang, not anymore. not since the two of you had been spending so much time together. maybe it was like the boys said, and he was truly very sick, but in that case, why wouldn't they let you help?

————————

days passed and you went to work as usual, repeating the same few lines, asking people if they want a room, asking them to fill in a form, then directing them to the right room. days passed and you still hadn't heard back from yeosang, you wondered if he was still sick. days passed and you began to think maybe you should go over there to see if he's okay.

but if there was one thing you'd learnt about yeosang recently, it was that he was the quieter type, and probably wouldn't appreciate you going over there to keep him company and would rather be alone. so that evening when you got off work, you didn't go visit him like you so desperately wanted to, instead, you went straight home.

you cooked and ate dinner for yourself, before picking up your phone, only to see still no messages from yeosang.

you: hey woo you: is yeosang feeling better ?

wooyoung: yeah he is

you: well then can i come visit tomorrow ?

wooyoung: i think he's busy wooyoung: sorry

you: its okay woo you: its not your fault !!

you switched your phone off and headed for the shower, trying to wash away the stress and worry for yeosang that had built up over the last few weeks. you had really grown to like him and there was still so much about him you wanted to learn, like when he learned to skateboard or how he got the small scar on the back of his hand, that you'd noticed when ever he brushes his hair out of his eyes.

two years he'd spent, not interested in holding conversation with you and two years you'd spent, wondering what you'd did so wrong. but lately, you felt like you were doing something right around him, getting him to smile and laugh, share his own stories.

you couldn't shake the feeling that maybe he still didn't like you, and had just been trying for wooyoung's sake.

or maybe he was genuinely starting to like you, but you went and fucked it up by weirding him out and telling him about his starry eyes.

or maybe he'd just had enough of you already. decided that a few weeks was enough time spent trying to change things between the two of you.

as you finished showering and changed into comfortable clothes, you glanced at the clock which read 10:56pm. you switched on the television to watch some youtube before going to bed. as you felt yourself dozing off, a faint knock sounded at your door, so quiet you almost missed it.

when you opened the door, you were shocked to see yeosang standing there, leaning against the door frame for support. he looked up at you, his normally starry eyes were dulled with tears.

you rushed forward to him, smelling the alcohol as you got closer, "yeosang are you okay? what are you doing here? i thought you were sick. are you drunk? you never drink, come inside." you gently pulled him inside, closing the door behind you. when you turned to face him, he was staring at you, tears about to spill over the brim of his eyes.

"i hate you." he breathed out, voice barely louder than a whisper. he didn't seem angry though, he looked fragile, like a glass vase balancing on the edge of a table.

you felt the urge to cry, finally hearing those three words that confirmed your biggest concern, yeosang disliking you. "yeosang, i'm so sorry. i never meant to—"

"i hate you." he said, louder this time before running a hand through his hair hastily. he let out a frustrated groan, dragging his hands down his face. "i hate the tugging feeling in my heart whenever we're alone. i hate the way you put yourself before others. i hate the way you ramble on when you're nervous. i hate the way your eyes sparkle when you laugh. i hate the way i don't drink around you because i feel the need to protect you and make sure you're safe. i hate the way i tried to ignore you for two years because i was scared and confused about my own feelings. i hate how it only took one cup of coffee with you for my walls to come crashing down!" he paced from side to side, waving his hands around crazily.

yeosang looked scared and lost, like he'd never felt this way about anyone before, and that was the truth. he didn't know how to comprehend these feelings and it terrified him.

you watched as he spiralled, seeming as though it would never stop. you weren't sure what to do, so you just listened to that swelling feeling in your heart once again, the one that had led you to develop feelings for yeosang, and you pulled him close into your arms. he clung onto you tightly, scared to let go, like if he did then he'd lose you forever. you ran your fingers through his hair briefly, trying your best to comfort him.

"i'm sorry." you repeatedly whispered to him. you'd never meant to upset him or confuse him.

yeosang let out a quiet sob into your chest, "i hate the way i've fallen in love with you." he croaked out.

he didn't hate you. never did. never will. your heart swelled completely in your chest, feeling as though it would burst through. but it couldn't be true. he's totally drunk out of his mind.

"you're not in your right mind, yeosang, you need to get home. you're drunk and talking nonsense." you embraced him tightly one more time, and you could've sworn you felt the beat of his heart through the hug. "come on," you urged, steering him towards the door, "wooyoung and san are probably worried and waiting up for you."

with much effort, you led him down the stairs of your apartment block and walked him home. the street lamps led you in the freezing city night air. you held his wrist lightly, guiding him up the stairs to his own apartment. he didn't speak a single word the whole time, instead, sniffling and wiping at his eyes. it hurt you so much to see him this broken, but you knew he wasn't saying the truth under control of the alcohol in his veins.

you knocked at his apartment door, hoping that one of the boys were still awake. luckily, they both were and quickly they flung the door open.

"y/n? yeosang?" san questioned, his eyes wide open with disbelief.

"we've been so worried about you!" wooyoung said, pulling yeosang away from you. "hang on, are you drunk?"

san had noticed his tired, tear stained eyes, "you look like you've been crying! are you okay?"

you let out a quiet sigh, knowing you didn't need to be here anymore. you gave a small wave goodbye and headed home, utterly exhausted.

and though you were so drained, you couldn't seem to fall asleep. those words yeosang said to you kept running through your mind busily.

did he mean any of it?

————————

yeosang felt bad. he felt terrible. like he wanted to vanish into thin air and float away with the breeze. though he couldn't, no, he desperately wanted to apologise to you. but he didn't know how, he wasn't good with words or expressing his feelings, and you wished he knew that was something you loved about him.

wooyoung and san tried to ask him what happened the night he drunkenly confessed to you, but he couldn't have them know that he'd been harbouring feelings for you for all this time, they'd never let him live it down. he could imagine the continuous teasing they'd give him, nudging him whenever you were together or giving him side glances after talking to you.

yeosang gave it lots of thought. he mulled it over in his head repeatedly. it was only after hours spent hidden away in his room that he decided to go back to where it all started, a text. a text that said how much he wanted to make it up to you for having to deal with him drunk, just like the one you'd sent initially.

yeosang: hey y/n, i feel really bad about the other day, i wanna know how i can make it up to you! T^T

your heart leapt a mile seeing his name appear on your phone. you grinned upon reading his message, realising it was scarily similar to the message you had first sent him.

you: hmmm you: that sounds familiar

yeosang: >.< yeosang: seriously though, how does dinner at my place tomorrow night sound? i'll cook

you: you can cook?

yeosang: there's a lot you don't know about me x_x

you: okay, i'll be there !!

————————

yeosang wasn't lying when he said he can cook. as you traipsed up the stairs of his apartment block you could smell something delicious laced in the air.

the usual swelling in your heart had instead fell to the pit of your stomach, you were feeling slightly nervous as to what would happen when you entered yeosang's apartment. you inhaled deeply before knocking at the door of his apartment.

"hey y/n, come in." yeosang greeted, holding an arm out, signalling for you to come inside.

"you must've been working hard cooking! it smells delicious." you said, feeling a sense of comfort just from the smell of food.

"yeah, lucky i sent wooyoung and san over to jongho's place, otherwise i doubt there would be any pasta to serve." he joked. "you can take a seat, i've just gotta serve up."

you sat down in front of a neatly laid table, it had somewhat surprised you how much effort yeosang had put into this dinner tonight. he placed a steamy hot plate of pasta in front of you and one where he would sit.

"so." he began.

"so." you copied, teasingly.

"i guess, i really just wanted to say i'm sorry for how i behaved the other night when i was drunk. you shouldn't of had to deal with that." he frowned, poking at his dinner.

you furrowed your brows, "it's seriously fine yeosang." you took a bite of pasta, "i was just surprised to see you drunk, since you never drink."

he chuckled, bringing a hand up to cover his mouth, "actually, i do. i just never drink when you're there."

"really? why?" you questioned, eating another mouthful of pasta.

"because..." he paused. "no, it sounds dumb out loud."

"it's okay, you don't have to explain yourself." you smiled warmly, "but that does remind me to ask... do you remember anything you said to me while you were drunk?" you leant forward, genuinely curious.

he sighed, "i remember.. enough."

"you don't really hate me, right?" you asked, playing with the food on your plate.

"of course not! that's why i invited you here tonight. to show you that i don't, and to make it up to you." he had to refrain from reaching across to hold your hand, just to show how much he cared that little bit more.

you nodded, "well, thats good. i was kinda worried that we'd gone back to square one."

comfort settled within you. it was relieving to know you weren't hated by the one person whose love you wanted most. a tiny thought crept into your mind, maybe, just maybe, now would be the right time to tell him about your blossoming feelings for him. or would that confuse him more? now you were the one feeling conflicted.

"are you finished eating?" he asked, reaching for your empty plate.

"yes, thank you! it was delicious. you're a good cook, y'know."

"ah, thanks y/n." he turned away to hide the blush appearing on his cheeks.

"would you like me to do the dishes? since you cooked." you offered, standing up. but he quickly opposed.

"don't be ridiculous." he shooed you back to your seat. "can i get you a coffee? water? wine?"

"a coffee sounds good, i think you and i have had too many drunken situations lately." you laughed.

yeosang pulled out two mugs and put the kettle on. he felt your eyes carefully watching him. once again, he hated the feeling that was pulling at his heart. the way you could say nothing, yet he felt everything.

"can i tell you something?" you asked, voice now quieter and more hesitant.

"sure, what is it?" he said, placing a warm cup of coffee in front of you.

you took a sip, humming in delight. it was exactly the way you liked it. when the two of you went out for coffee, he had unintentionally remembered just the way you like it.

"well," you began cautiously, in case you brought this situation into flames again. "i just... i always wondered why you didn't like me. if i was doing something wrong, if i said something once that really upset you. and then after we started spending time together, i finally felt like i was doing the right thing." you groaned, frustrated with yourself for not getting to the point quicker. "what i'm trying to say is that i have feelings for you. it's okay if you don't feel the same way. i wouldn't expect you to, i just thought you should know—"

yeosang basically choked on his coffee, eyes widening in shock. "it's okay, y/n! in case you hadn't noticed, i'm crazy about you."

you had continued to ramble nervously before hearing what he said.

"wait. you are?"

"basically ever since you said that thing about stars in my eyes, yes."

you cringed, remembering how you had said that so absent minded. "yeah, sorry about that."

"it's okay, it was cute. and what did i say about apologising?"

you shook your head and smiled, "i know."

————————

ever since the two of you confessed to each other, you had been almost inseparable, except of course when you had work. but he dropped you home most nights, even though you insisted it was okay and that you could walk. he came over every weekend just to spend time with you, even if the two of you just sat and talked, enjoying each other's company. you'd been dating for a few weeks now, but kept it undercover, not wanting to suffer the incessant questioning that would come if you told your friends.

it didn't go unnoticed either, wooyoung and san were constantly nagging yeosang about why the two of you spent so much time together, and each time he just shrugged it off.

christmas was just around the corner, so you were spending the evening at seonghwa's and hongjoong's house, who of course, were throwing an unnecessarily large house party to celebrate.

you were sat between a very drunk yunho and mingi, who were trying to talk to an also very drunk jongho. you eyed your boyfriend from across the room, as if asking for a way out and he just laughed at the situation you were stuck in.

after at least ten minutes more of having your ear talked off, yeosang came to pull you away to the dance floor.

"care to dance?" he asked, extending his hand to you.

you immediately jumped up, latching onto his hand, "i would love to!"

he chuckled, pulling you close to his side and leading you to the makeshift dance floor that seonghwa and hongjoong created.

the two of you laughed at the boys' reaction. they were completely shocked to see the two of you so close together and yeosang being friendly.

he twirled you around a few times with the music, before settling his arms around your waist. he brought you near to him as you placed your arms behind his neck. you swayed back and forth, engulfed in your own little bubble of comfort in each other's arms, completely out of time with the loud thumping music that blared around you.

you felt content, and yeosang no longer felt confused. he found his home in your arms and his happiness.

you reached up to place your lips on his, capturing the moment surrounding you. yeosang melted into the kiss, discovering that your lips were soft and sweet against his, just as he had imagined, which caused his knees to feel weak and his heart to skip more than just one beat. he never wanted to let you go, he wanted to compensate for every second that he didn't spend with you since the two of you met.

he leaned forward and whispered softly, just so you could hear above all the music and singing, "lets stay like this forever."

[call-me-aesthetic]

If Twisted Wonderland was an American Public School

WARNING: There are some slight sensitive topics that are featured in here! Reader discretion is advised!

Part 2 can be found here

Heartslabyul

Riddle Rosehearts:

- That one preppy girl who takes all honors and AP classes 😑

- Wants everyone to know that he’s becoming a doctor one day for his strict parents or he’ll dishonor the family

- Reminds the teacher about homework, knowing well that he’ll get slander for it

- Complains about how he got a 90 on his test or a B on his report card, a try hard much?

- Wears a cardigan with thicc but cute glasses since he’s one of those people with can’t see shit on the board so he has to move to the front of the class

Ace Trappola:

- The SoundCloud rapper, that’s it

- “Wanna listen to my mixtape? It’s pretty fire, my guy.” 😩🔥

- You will not miss him BLASTING out some song on his Bluetooth speaker, that shit be echoing through the hallways

- Tells you to stop what you’re doing only for him to either sing horribly or do a backflip, thinking that he’s so cool

- Wears a Supreme jacket with AirPods and waves on his head

Deuce Spade:

- Assuming that he’s still a delinquent, he’s that kid with the most fucked up school record

- Not much of a bully but will still talk shit to your face without caring, might even throw stuff at you during a lesson and you would be the one getting in trouble instead of him 🗿

- If he ever gets mad, it would be overdramatic like kicking the desks, punching the lockers, or walking out of the classroom unannounced and everyone would look at each other wondering wtf happened

- Covers the entire desks with drawings of skulls and those “s” if you know what I mean

- Wears Champion hoodies, wants you to know that he’s broke and rich at the same time

Trey Clover:

- The guy that’s not really popular but everyone knows him since he’s in all their classes

- Most people might have a crush on him because he’s REALLY nice 😳👉👈

- Gives off “older brother” vibes based on the way he looks and acts, like offering you a ride home if you beg ask nicely

- Secretly bakes creme brulee but doesn’t want to mess with the flow so he sticks to the status quo

- Wears the school’s hoodie just because he thinks it looks good on him, and the fact that he doesn’t know what else to wear

Cater Diamond:

- Hot Cheetos girl 🥵

- Has a whole buffet of food in his backpack and will not hesitate to eat them during a lesson, no sharing either sorry

- Excuses himself to the bathroom or full on skips class just to film a Tiktok

- Has about 100 followers on Instagram Magicam and brags about how he’s famous

- Wears a Thrasher hoodie with large hoop earrings and his hair in a bun

Savanaclaw

Leona Kingscholar:

- The kid who flunked their freshman year that also sort of vibes with new classmates

- Always gets mistaken as a teacher by people since he looks and sounds old

- Knows the lessons but still fails them anyways, didn’t really give a damn either 🙄

- Captain of every sports club you can think of, never actually plays but has a lot of knowledge on them

- Wears the school’s letterman from years ago since it used to be his brother’s and that he’s too lazy to buy a new one

Ruggie Bucchi:

- That one kid who NEVER has money for the book fair or any other school event

- Always has to ask his classmates for some cash

- If he somehow does, then he’s one of those kids who buys Diary of the Wimpy Kid or the World Record books

- If he’s feeling cheap, he’ll buy the “cool stuff” like the chocolate scented calculator or fruit snacks 😭

- Wears oversized hoodies and basketball shorts that are clearly hand-me-downs

Jack Howl:

- That one athletic kid who’s both scary good and competitive when it comes to school games like football or soccer

- Literally the best player on his team and without him, they’re trash as hell 💀

- Tries his absolute best to support his teammates without yelling at them for how dumb they are

- “KICK THE FUCKING BALL! DO YOUR LEGS EVEN WORK?!”

- Wears the school’s jersey just to show off his “school spirit”

Octavinelle

Azul Ashengrotto:

- The kid who sell snacks for “charity” but everyone knows he’s keeping the money to himself

- If you don’t have cash or try to negotiate with him, the only thing he’ll do is raise the price up

- “What do you mean you don’t have ten bucks? I can see it in your pocket.”

- Just bring nothing with you, he’ll doing anything to steal your stuff 🤭

- Wears a collar shirt with a tie and khakis that have pockets to keep his glasses and money in

Jade Leech:

- The kid who puts on a goody two shoes facade but is actually a stoner

- Only does “safe” drugs like vape but occasionally smokes weed, mostly in the bathroom or behind the school 🌬

- Can play it off and hide the scent when he’s high, teachers never suspect anything from him

- No one really cares to stop him unless he gets caught or something idk

- Wears clothing that either makes him look like a businessman or a junky, there’s nothing in between

Floyd Leech:

- The kid that’s plays basketball or volleyball just because he’s hella tall, and is actually good at the sports but doesn’t put much effort into them

- Always stays behind after gym, even though the teacher tries to make him leave for his next class 😬

- “I swear after this one shot, I’ll go to class.” *He never made that shot*

- Will jump you no matter who or where you are, and will get angry if you step on his new shoes

- Wears the jersey of any famous team with the latest pair of Jordan sneakers

Scarabia

Kalim Al Asim:

- VSCO girl at best, don’t lie to me now 🤡

- The only words he knows are “And I oop– sksksk.” and “Save the turtles.”

- Walks during a track meet while everyone else is running and sweating hard, the teacher doesn’t care either

- Doesn’t really do anything in gym but talks to his classmates and stands near the water fountain to refill his Hydro flask

- Wears tie dye shirts with cute scrunchies

Jamil Viper:

- That one quiet kid who everybody thinks is a serial killer but he’s actually not, I swear

- He just wants school to be over and spend the rest of his summer relaxing 😔

- Although he shouldn’t abuse his “power,” he‘ll move his hands in his pockets or backpack to make it look like he’s about to pull a weapon out.

- “Chill, I’m just grabbing a pencil.” *Everyone in the class started crying*

- Wears dark colored hoodies that intimidates people but are actually comfy

Pomefiore

Vil Schoenheit:

- The baddie popular girl 😌💅✨

- Arrives to school late with a Starbucks in hand from his local Target

- Fixes himself every 5 seconds like reapplying his lipgloss or spraying Bath and Body Works cherry blossom perfume

- Uses acrylic nails and long hair extensions as weapons during a cat fight

- Wears a crop top with ripped jeans and those clout sunglasses

Rook Hunt:

- That creepy guy in the hallways who tries to get your attention, even if you don’t know him

- Scares people when he says, “Ayo, where my hug at?” 🥶💯

- Uses at least 10 cans of Axe body spray a week after gym class, which stinks up the locker rooms

- Waves at you if he passes your class, even walking into the room just to say hi

- Wears literally anything but always include a hat

Epel Felmier:

- The artist girl who just wants to be alone 🧑‍🎨

- Purposely draws in front of you but pretends like you’re not looking

- If you complement him, he’ll just brush it off and proceeds to diss himself

- “Thanks but I’m not THAT good at drawing, teehee.” *Insert Radio Rebel face*

- Wears a hoodie or a cardigan with big pockets to put his art supplies in

Ignihyde

Idia Shroud:

- I don’t even need to tell you who he is, y’all already know ahaha 🥴

- Sneaks a whole PlayStation in his backpack so he can play with it during lunch

- Is on his phone 24/7 even in class to the point where teachers don’t care anymore

- Tries to get people into anime but only to little success

- Wears a shirt of any anime character or that damn ahegao hoodie, girl bye

Ortho Shroud:

- The nerdy kid who’s known for destroying others at many games

- Plays classics like D&D, Yugioh, Pokémon, the whole shabang

- Daily Beyblade battles during recess with everyone surrounding him, the menacing aura radiates off of him

- Will steal your things if you lose to him but gives it back a week later cuz he’s sweet 🥰

- Wears light up Sketchers shoes and those Minecraft shirts you find at Old Navy

Diasomnia

Malleus Draconia:

- The theatre kid who also goes to band practice, change my mind 👁👄👁

- Takes his role seriously when it comes to school plays and concerts, even if he gets casted as a damn tree or doesn’t go solo

- Remembers the songs and their lyrics to any musical you name, a really good singer at that too

- Plays almost every instrument, you definitely know this since you can hear him down the hallways during a test

- Wears a white button up shirt, black pants with fancy dress shoes, and top it all off with a fricking Rolex watch

Lilia Vanrouge:

- The weird guy who pranks people and vandalizes school property in every way possible

- If you ever get a textbook with a message that tells you to go to a certain page only for you to found a picture of a dick, yeah that was him 😒

- When using a Chromebook, he’ll leave a tab open on YouTube so when the next person uses it, pray that your ears will still work by tomorrow

- During lunch, he is a literal DEMON that mixes milk with chicken nuggets together and having the audacity to eat it too

- Wears an oversized raincoat or a windbreaker but idk wtf kind of things he has hiding underneath

Silver:

- That guy in class who consumes Monster energy drinks and falls asleep 99% of the time but somehow manages to pass the class 🤷

- Whenever he’s awake, he’ll talk to the teachers since he’s basically friends with them for some reason

- Writes his name out of boredom on any desk you sit on but in different places, sometimes around the corners or the sides

- Has a sixth sense because he’ll wake up if you try to draw on his face and if you did get something on him, it’s on sight

- Wears those colorful hoodies that zips all the way up to cover his face with a matching backpack, it’s pretty cool ngl

Sebek Zigvolt:

- That kid who literally knows everything about historical wars and will show it off during class

- Also has knowledge on weaponry, which has people questioning him but he’s just very dedicated on serving his country and people

- Knows how to fight and defend himself from a bitch since he spent his summer at a military boot camp, put respect on my man’s name 😤

- Honestly a great partner for a group project, actually does the given work but not the whole thing for you

- Wears anything that has camo pattern and chunky combat boots

I only made this because me and my friends were talking about our school memories so yeah. This is based from my experience so they might not be exactly accurate. Might even be a part two if you want.