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macfrog · 1 year ago

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you shook me all night long sex on fire chapter one

requested by @whore-4-pedro (hope u enjoy lovely)

lived all my succession fantasies out writing this one icl. enjoy 🖤 check out my masterlist for more joel fun ‼️

pairing: ceo!joel x fem!reader

summary: as joel miller's assistant, you're expected to meet all his needs. some are a little more personal than others

warnings: 18+ (minors dni!!!) creepy dude at the beginning, lotta teasing and touching, mentions of female masturbation, fingering, unprotected p in v sex, semi-public sex, daddy kink, age gap (reader is late 20s, joel late 40s), alcohol and drug use, cursing, low-key inappropriate work relationship (if bad then why sexy?)

word count: 7.8k

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist

You grind your ass and Joel hums into your skin. He’s getting harder by the second, you’re getting wetter. It’s not enough, what you’re doing. You need more. You lower your hand and cup him through his pants, taking hold of his bulge and massaging gently. His hips are moving, he’s rutting into your palm, both of you desperate to rid yourselves of the clothing separating your skin. “I asked,” you breathe, “what’s next on the agenda?” “Next,” Joel mumbles into your skin, “was thinkin’ I could bend you over this desk ‘n fuck you.”

It’s Friday night.

You only got home from work an hour and a half ago. Tired, hungry, sore eyes from staring at a screen all night, sore back from sitting hunched over all day. Dumped your bags at the door, ripped your clothes off by your bed, dove straight into the shower. You’d picked an outfit, curled your hair in record time, and even done your makeup before Deb called to say she was out front.

It was a ten-minute drive from your place to the hotel – it’s only a couple blocks from work. The cab driver made light conversation, talked about his daughter and her new puppy, and you both nodded and uhuhed in all the breaks in his sentences. Deb made some comment about it being easier if you’d just stayed at the office until the party, and you’d hummed in agreement, looking out the window at the regal hotel.

Truth be told, you’d rather be doing anything other than attending a work function. You’ve had a long week. A lot of meetings, paperwork, emails to be answered, and most of all, running around after your boss. It’s not all fun and games being Joel Miller’s assistant, regardless of the pay, or the view from your desk over to his.

Your head’s elsewhere when you waltz through the revolving door, heels clicking along the marble floor. The elevator – gold, by the way – slides open and you both step inside, hitting the highest button before you’re swept up twenty floors to the penthouse.

“Did you send those documents over to us yet?” Deb asks.

“Nope,” you reply, slipping out when the elevator dings. “Had to sit in on a meeting with Joel and take the fucking minutes, spent all night writing them up.”

“He won’t be pissed at you?”

“If he hadn’t insisted I was in there with him, you’d have your reports, wouldn’t you?”

She shrugs, agreeing.

“Anyway,” you continue, “I can take angry Joel. He doesn’t scare me.”

Deb chuckles as you shoulder the doors to the penthouse open.

It’s a moody dull, lit only by the lights lining the bar and small lamps decorating mahogany tables, sat next to deep green velvet couches. There are clusters of people everywhere you look; stood near shelves filled with leather-bound books, examining the view from the floor to ceiling windows, sprawled out over luxurious chairs with champagne flutes in their hands. There’s a tree in the middle of the room, branches decorated in blinking string lights reaching to a glass dome in the ceiling.

It's, like, sickeningly pretentious. You know it. Hell, you all know it. Still, in your little black dress, you strut over and take a champagne of your own, sipping on the fizzing drink with one elbow resting on the wooden bar.

“There’s my girl,” his voice coos over your shoulder. “Been watchin’ for you all night, took your time.”

You lean back, bored expression on your face.

Joel’s broad chest pulls on the white shirt he’s wearing, same one you just saw him in little over three hours ago, only without a tie; the top couple of buttons are undone to reveal his chest hair peeking through. You try not to let your eyes linger on him too long.

“You look fuckin’ ecstatic to be here.”

He leans against the bar next to you, arms crossed. When you don’t reply, he nudges you. Your champagne jolts in its glass.

“I always look like this. I’m always ecstatic to be everywhere.”

He smiles. “Why aren’t you mingling?”

“Don’t wanna.”

“’s a work event. That’s the whole point.”

“Then why are you over here talkin’ to me?”

His eyes flash across your lips, and you swear they drop for a nanosecond to your chest.

“Come on,” he says, taking your wrist in his huge hand, “some people you oughta meet.”

Joel ignores your sigh and leads you over onto a plush rug, sidling between knees to sit you down on the soft couch between himself and some bald dude in a jet blue suit, whose shirt is also undone, though much further than Joel’s. He has a chest like a hairless cat.

Cue Ball snakes an arm over the back of the couch; his fingers dance across your back. You shimmy a little closer to Joel and he notices instantly, jaw turning slowly to glance over. When he sees your knees angled toward him, seeking protection, he leans back and wraps his left arm around your shoulders, his right coming down to cup your knee.

“This,” he shakes your leg, left arm pulling you tighter against him, “is my wonderful assistant. My right-hand lady. Couldn’t do anything without her, could I?”

“Could wipe your own ass, that’s about it,” you mumble into your glass, and a roar of laughter sounds from your audience.

Joel, still leaning back, pulls his arm from you but keeps his shoulder firmly behind yours, making sure whatever the creep on your left tries, he’ll feel first. Your elbow rests in the crook of his, and you keep it there, quietly enjoying the intimacy of his body caging yours.

His left hand is settled on your thigh. You realize it after a swig of champagne, and start counting in your head how many seconds his fingers stay gripped on your skin.

He talks with his hands – always has. Walks around his office, ranting and raving sometimes, arms swinging around in the air while you take notes, or file your nails, or just watch until he’s done. For the next half hour, though, he only talks with his right hand. Only sips his beer with his right hand. Only scratches his beard, or pulls his phone from his pocket, or reaches up and passes you a second drink, and then a third, with his right hand.

You stay rigid, legs unmoving, eyes barely leaving his knuckles, locked tight around your thigh. There’s heat from his touch siphoning from his palm down through your skin, rippling like waves all through your body and pooling somewhere south of your belly button. No matter how hard you try, you can’t shake it. Can’t stop thinking about it. You barely notice when Cue Ball’s hand ghosts across your back a second time.

But Joel notices, straight away. He flashes the guy a look, and you swear he’s baring his teeth. Eyes locked on the blue suit like it’s a target, never blinking. He doesn’t say anything when his prey excuses himself to the bathroom, and you don’t turn to watch him go, but you do notice three other sharp-suited pricks stand and wander off in that direction after him.

Probably not a coincidence.

Joel still has a hold on your leg. Your flute is empty, and you lean forward to place it on the wooden table at your knees, beginning to stand.

His grip loosens, but he looks up at you as you tower over him.

“Cocktail,” you tell him with a sweet smile, and he nods, letting you go.

You know he’s watching you as you slink away. Is it the alcohol in your system, or something darker, that makes you sway your hips a little more for his benefit?

Deb’s over at the bar with Martha, another of Joel’s assistants. She’s around his age, worked for him much longer than you have, but when he hired you, you took on most of the groundwork. Following Joel’s orders– sorry, requests, organizing meetings, filing paperwork for him. Martha sits at a desk outside Joel’s office, answers the phone and directs anyone who happens to wander up to the top floor of the building.

Did I say directs? I meant strikes coldblooded fear within them and sends them back running the way they came, with just one look and a nod in the opposite direction.

Unless they’re there for a meeting with Joel, that is. And if they are, that’s where you come in. Good morning, Mr. Salazar, Mr. Miller will be right with you. This way, he’s just finishing up a call.

Martha’s a tough nut. But she likes you enough, so she smiles warmly as you approach.

“I’m hearing all about your note-taking this afternoon,” she hums when you hop up onto a barstool, catching the bartender’s eye. He trots over.

You sigh to Martha, eyes wide. “I didn’t leave until, like, eight. What the fuck’s that about? Can I just get a cosmopolitan, please?” you ask, and the bartender nods. He looks about fifteen.

Martha shakes her head, laughing. “He did it to me when I was first startin’ out, too. Told him to stick his minutes where the sun don’t shine.”

“I’ve been here three years,” you mutter, and Deb snorts.

“You’d think Joel would’ve changed his ways in the, what, seven decades since you started, Martha?”

It earns her a slap across the shoulder. You stifle your laugh behind your glass, thanking the teenager who served you it with a nod.

“Twenty years next March, actually,” Martha says.

“That so? D’you think he’ll get you anything for it?”

“If I’m lucky,” she sighs, eyes travelling up to the ceiling in thought, “a lunch break where he doesn’t bother me once.”

“Knowing Joel, that means a lunch break where he bothers you twice.”

You smile, glancing past the pretentious tree to where Joel is, and notice he’s already staring right back. A swarm of butterflies flutter around your stomach, dancing over the heat his handprint left within you. They only grow more violent when he stands and walks over, broad shoulders swaying, eyes flitting up and down your body.

You lean back, sitting up straight, eyeing him right back as he joins the three of you.

“Speak of the devil,” Martha says, and Joel chuckles in response, but his eyes never leave you.

“We were just talkin’ about Martha’s twenty years,” says Deb, winking.

He finally turns to answer her. “Oh, yeah? When’s that, then, old-timer?”

“Dirtball!” Martha yells, and Joel smirks. It goes straight to your core.

“How many Manhattans tonight, then, Deb?”

Deb holds her glass up. “I am on my second, and I will not be exceeding three. We don’t need a repeat of Christmas.”

“Aw,” Joel complains, tutting, “I liked hammered Deb.”

“That’s ‘cause you didn’t have to deal with hungover Deb,” you mutter, and she shoots you a look.

Joel smiles at you, takes a step closer as Deb and Martha begin comparing past hangovers. He leans forward, waves the fifteen-year-old down, and asks for a beer. As he leans back, you notice the weight of his wrist on your right hip. Nicely done.

“You know there are four guys in the bathroom doing coke?”

“I hope to God that’s all they’re doin’. I don’t need another orgyhappenin’ at one of these things.”

You giggle like a fucking schoolgirl. He looks pleased with himself, and you instantly regret it. You try to play it off by lifting your glass back to your lips.

Joel’s studying you, though, mapping every inch of your face. Watching your mouth as it curves around the shape of the glass, your tongue licking your lips after your sip. He tracks the glass as you set it back down on the bar, then his eyes trail along your arm to your dress, and your stomach leaps.

He looks so fucking good, it sends another wave of energy through your body. Dark hair lined with grey, beard much the same. Strong jaw, lips wetting with every sip of beer he takes, dark eyes flitting across yours, holding your stare long enough to melt you a little, and then dipping just before you can read the thoughts behind them.

His skin a little tanned, his neck thick with muscle. You can feel the heat radiating off of him, you’re so close. Close enough that you could lean up, part your lips and sink your teeth under his ear, suck a mark there, taste him on your tongue.

Your head cocks after a few minutes silence, just the two of you enjoying the fucking look of each other. You lean a little against his arm, steady around your back.

“I hate work parties,” you sigh.

Joel scoffs. “Free alcohol, nice penthouse. Cocaine, if you want it. What’s not to like?”

You narrow your eyes and he laughs for real.

“I hate ‘em, too, baby. Gotta keep up appearances, though, don’t we?”

Baby. This fucker.

“Do we?” you squeak, after a few seconds dazed.

He shrugs. “’s what I hear.”

He’s so close you can smell the beer on his tongue. It makes your heart quicken, your body hum with energy. That could just be the alcohol in your system, though, right?

Who are you kidding? It’s fucking Joel doing it to you.

You have no idea how long he was here before you arrived. He left the office around six, and you presumed he’d come straight here to check everything was in order before guests started arriving. How many beers has he had? Is he just drunk, feeling up on you with liquid courage?

You’re mulling over the thought when a pair of hands clamp down on Joel’s shoulders and his hold on your waist loosens. He mumbles an apology as he’s dragged away by a couple of loose-collared, baggy-suit drunks. You shake your head in response, trying to be cool – It’s all good, man. I’m good. I’m not totally fawning over you right now, no way.

Deb swings her barstool around when she notices you’re on your own, inviting you back into their conversation. Thirty seconds into talking about childhood pets, you’re wishing Joel was back around you, igniting your skin and peaking your adrenaline. Max the Pomeranian is a nice picture; Joel’s nicer.

Martha says something with a hand motion, and Deb nods, elbow knocking into yours.

“What?”

She nods toward the balcony. “We’re headin’ out for a smoke, you comin’?”

“Nah, I’m good. I’ll save your seats.”

They nod and wander off between a crowd, swallowed up by bodies in the direction of the open sliding doors, the blinking lights of the skyline ahead.

You’re twirling the base of your empty glass around on its napkin when you feel that same heat behind you again, and a hand rests on the small of your back.

“Coat,” Joel mutters, pulling his suit jacket on.

“Huh?”

“Get your coat. Everyone’s headin’ across the street.”

“Why is everyone heading across the street?”

He shrugs. “Afterparty, I guess.”

“It’s a work function. It’s like–” you check your phone, “–oh, fuck, it’s almost midnight.” You screw your face up, watching as the small crowd slowly melts away through the suite doors.

“I know. I throw a good party, right?”

“So good, people are leaving it.”

He tuts. “Coat. Now.”

“I didn’t bring one.”

“You didn’t bring a coat?”

“You told me the party was here. I didn’t think we’d be walking all over town.”

“’s not all over town, baby,” Joel murmurs with a sigh. “Here.”

He peels the jacket off his shoulders and you hold a hand out to stop him.

“Joel, it’s fine, it’s–”

“Quit moanin’,” he groans as he throws it over your shoulders. He scoops your hair and pulls it softly out from under the collar. “Alright? C’mon.”

He takes your hand and leads you past some stragglers down the hall toward the elevator, where a group are waiting for the doors to open.

“Tight squeeze, Miller,” some dude chuckles as you follow Joel in, his hand still gripping yours.

He turns, backing into the corner, pulling you with him until your back is flush against his chest.

His hands drop to your hips. You swallow back a scream.

One of the accountants is stood in front of your – Harriet? Helen? Something beginning with H – anyway, she keeps knocking back into you, pushed by the sway of the packed elevator. It means you knock a little into Joel, and feel his chin on the crown of your head.

You turn ever so slightly to mumble an apology to him, but when you feel his breath on the shell of your ear, your words die in your throat.

“Hazel?” – That’s her fucking name – Joel reaches around you to tap her shoulder, and her bobbed haircut swings when she turns. “Did you get those balance sheets yet?”

“Not yet, Joel,” she tells him, and your face prickles with heat.

“No? That’s weird.” Joel’s grip tightens on your hips, his mouth dangerously close to your ear. In a low whisper, only to you, he says, “Thought I asked to have ‘em sent over by this afternoon.”

You muster up the courage to reply with a deep breath. From the corner of your mouth, through gritted teeth, you tell him, “That was before you forced me to sit in on a buyers’ meeting.”

You feel his chest rumble between your shoulder blades as he laughs. The elevator shudders to a stop and the doors slide open; the crowd spills out.

You step forward, ahead of Joel, and make it maybe three steps before he’s back on you, an arm draped over your shoulders. You reach up and take his hand, leaning against his strong torso to let him guide you toward the exit.

No idea what makes you do it. Maybe you’re drunk. Maybe not only on alcohol.

You’re the last of the pack, stumbling over air across the gleaming floor toward the revolving door, which Joel pushes open for you. The cool night breeze hits you as you slip out.

The crowd ahead are rushing across the street, yelling and whooping as they go. It’s juvenile, a little cringe. A bunch of rich corporates skipping across the street toward cheap alcohol and peanuts. You’d care more about the way it looks if you were sober.

Joel’s hand finds yours again and he’s leading you down the steps, cutting between parked cars toward the dive bar. You link your other arm around his elbow and he glances down, noting it. You wish the walk was longer.

A flickering fluorescent light drowns you both in a red glow, and Joel pushes the doors open. The place is flooded with half of your party, drowning booths, leaning against the bar, dancing in any open floorspace.

The floor is sticky, the bar dim. Joel takes you over to the same crowd he introduced you to earlier, and makes space for you to sit. You slide along the booth to the wall and he follows, squeezing up to you to let two more in after him.

“Beers?” a guy with a loose tie asks, to a chorus of yeses and a show of thumbs up. Mitch? Mark?

You tug Joel’s jacket from your shoulders – the movement nudges him and he turns to lift it from your back and tuck it behind you, brushing the hair off your shoulders. You smile in thanks, and his hand falls back onto your leg.

It takes you a few minutes to notice it this time. The gentle squeeze of his fingers around your thigh, the way it slowly bumps up each time he adjusts in his seat or shifts to allow space for someone else to join the booth.

His hand moves slowly, dangerously close to pulling your skirt up with it. Mitch or Mark returns with your beers and you take a massive swig, nerves and anticipation and fucking need for Joel to keep doing what he’s doing, taking over.

Under lights blurred by the alcohol in your system, the table buzzes with energy and chatter and laughter. There are posters and stickers all over the walls, graffiti of names and initials, numbers and dates scored into the walls. Joel traces them with his finger and you laugh at some of the messages.

“Lydia and Jack,” you mumble, “12-24-19. Wonder what happened then.”

“Bathroom sex,” Joel replies, eyes scanning the wall.

You scoff, beer to your lips. “On Christmas Eve?”

He nods, like it’s obvious. “Magical time ‘n all.”

You look past him with a smile to the opposite side of the bar where, through silhouetted bodies, you notice a jukebox.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Your eyes widen, your mouth agape.

Joel follows your eyeline and then twists back around. “C’mon,” he says, taking your hand and motioning for the others to let you by. He drags you over to the machine, lighting your faces up in yellow light, and your drunk eyes scan the screen.

“Nope." You swipe Joel’s hand away right before he can pick some Pet Shop Boys song.

“Really?”

“Good, but not the vibe,” you tell him, and budge him out of the way with your hip. He sways off, laughing, and leans a palm against the jukebox, his chest on your back for the second time tonight. As your tired eyes scan the songs, Joel’s chin rests on your shoulder.

He’s judging every fucking song you linger on. “Queen? Little before your time.”

“Dick.”

“Fleetwood Mac. Definitely before your time.”

“The entire fucking jukebox is before my time, dude. Shut up. These are good songs.”

You settle on a track and turn to face him. He has you almost fucking pressed against the box.

“Change, please.”

“Oh, I’m payin’, am I?”

“Mhm. Your work party, your wallet.”

He sighs and pushes a fist into his pocket for coins, tossing a quarter into your outstretched palm. You turn back and select your song, put the money in, and the old machine barks out the intro.

Joel sighs, shaking his head. “AC/DC? That’s your thing?”

“It’s not yours?” You’re taking him by the hand between bodies, swaying as you go.

He’s laughing, following you until you’re in the middle of the cramped bar, chest to chest, moving together. His hands find your waist again and this time you don’t even flinch; your fingers trail up his shirt, across his chest, settle on his collar.

You fucking swear he’s leaning in, each beat of the song drawing his jaw closer to yours. If you weren’t in a room full of co-workers, you’d probably let him kiss you.

I mean, what you’re doing right now is hardly innocent anyway. His hands are splayed on your lower back, your hips flat against his, rubbing, dancing. Your head rolls back and your lips are under his chin, smiling up at him and singing along. Joel sings the words straight back, your breath meeting and mingling in the tiny gap between your lips.

As the song ends, it fades into another. And another, and another. It’s two in the morning before your group of partiers begin to call taxis. You stumble out of the sweaty bar with an arm linked through Deb’s, still singing along to Whitney as you catch your breath.

She staggers off to a quieter part of the street to call a cab, and you hang around under the red light waiting for her. Joel’s stood at the curb; the back door of his sleek black Rolls-Royce open.

“Where you goin’?” he asks.

“Deb’s callin’ a cab,” you reply, arms folded, shoulders hunched.

Joel shakes his head. “Get in.”

“It’s cool, I’m jumping in with those guys. Thanks, though–”

“Baby,” Joel holds a hand out, “get in.”

Your eyes trace from his palm all the way up his sleeve, to his tired, handsome face. You’re sobering up. He looks clearer. Maybe that’s just the streetlights.

“Get you home in five minutes. C’mon.”

You swivel around to look for Martha and Deb, but they’re nowhere to be seen. The cab will come, they’ll assume you’re staying a while, and get in. No big deal, right?

Well. Stepping into your boss’s car after a night of highly inappropriate touching is kind of a big fucking deal.

That’s why you do it. Waddle over to him, take his hand, let him guide you to the car. You swing a leg in and slip across the seats, admiring the ceiling dotted with hundreds of tiny white lights, like you’re staring straight up at the night sky.

They blur through your drunken gaze, which doesn’t pull from them until you feel the weight of Joel on your right and hear the door slam shut.

“Mind puttin’ the partition up, Rand?” Joel’s voice says, though you mostly hear the vibrations through his chest, where your head is lying. His arm slips around your back, pulling you closer into him as the two of you are granted privacy by the quiet whir of the screen closing.

“Good night?” Joel asks, lips on your hair.

You nod. “You?”

“Mhm.”

His fingers are drawing shapes on your left hip. His right hand intertwines with yours. Your left hand starts to wander.

You liked his hand on you. Liked feeling his grip there. Wanted him to keep moving it up, wanted to see how far he’d take it. So, you put your own hand on the inside of his thigh, just like he did. Starting at the knee, and slowly sliding north. Joel’s breath tightens, his chest lifts, his jaw ticks.

The movement knocks you sober for a couple seconds. You realize what you’re doing. You draw your hand back.

“Sorry,” you mutter.

He unlinks your hands and places a steady palm over your withdrawn fist.

“’s okay, baby. You can do that if you want to.”

The drawl of his voice makes your eyes roll back, your heart leap. Your fucking legs clench.

You let him replace your hand where it was, and his legs widen a little. His crotch more available. You’re watching what you’re doing like you’re not even in your own body; watching it how Joel must be, thinking Higher, higher, keep going, keep doing that.

You lift your heavy head, resting it on his shoulder, and look up into his brown eyes. He’s framed by the starlit ceiling of the car. He’s looking at you, brows furrowed, face lined with his expression.

“You okay?” he asks.

You nod lazily. “Tired.”

Just then his hand takes yours again and shifts it softly, stopping what was probably about to happen but still holding onto you, still wanting your fingers locked in his. Not halting the train, just switching tracks.

It’s not a long journey, certainly not as long as you’d like, until you’re parked on your street. Rand lowers the partition to call back, and Joel thanks him.

“You okay gettin’ to your apartment?”

“Yup,” you groan, hoisting yourself out of the comfortable car.

“Sure? I can walk you up if you want.”

You bend down, one arm on the roof of the car. “I’m good, thanks. Thanks for the ride, Miller.”

“Be safe, baby.”

“You be safe, too. Bye.”

You throw the door closed and meander off up the steps toward your building. Joel’s car doesn’t roll off until your elevator arrives and you disappear inside.

You spend all weekend in bed, recovering not only from the party but from the week of work you’d endured. You keep yourself busy, though. There’s a Desperate Housewives marathon on TV. And when you’re not watching that, your hand is stuffed down your pants, Joel on your mind.

All. Fucking. Weekend.

In the shower, you’re picturing him on his knees in front of you, lapping you up. Hands gripping your thighs, draped over his shoulders. Your hand plants firmly against the wet tile when you cum, your orgasm threatening to collapse you in a heap.

In bed, you’re on top of him, knees either side of his waist, letting him buck his hips up until you’re screaming, covering him in your wet. Your vibrator battery dies by Saturday night.

Monday morning, you’re getting ready to leave for the office, and need to take ten minutes out to relieve the ache between your legs again. This time, he has you pressed against your bedroom wall, fucking you quick and messy, cumming deep inside you before he’ll let you head out.

It’s just a crush, right? It’s just because of how touchy you guys were on Friday. When you were drunk. And in a cramped, dark dive bar. Everybody gets crushes. And who wouldn’t, on a six-foot-whatever man with a jawline that could cut glass, hands that take a grip of you with minimal effort, a cock probably the size of…

No. Nope. That’s enough. Cut that the fuck out.

It’s just a crush. That’s what you keep telling yourself in the elevator, lights counting down the floors until you’re going to see Joel again. Is the sparkling feeling in your chest fear, anticipation, or excitement?

And is your cunt beginning to throb again?

You give a curt nod to Martha as you arrive, hauling your bag a little further up your shoulder and adjusting the folders in your arms on your hips.

“Where’d you go?” she asks, eyes still on the computer in front of her. Her chin propped on her elbow, face inches from the screen, reading something intently.

“Huh?”

“On Friday. We couldn’t find you when the cab arrived.”

“Oh, I, uh,” you clear your throat, “Joel gave me a ride. Yeah.”

She raises her eyebrows. “Generous of ‘im.”

“Yup.”

“He’s in the conference room waitin’ for you.”

“Cool, thanks.”

You hover for a few seconds, then take your cue to leave. You hurry over to the conference room door, knocking twice before pushing it open.

Joel’s sat at the top of the table, leant back in his chair, feet up on the wood in front of him. You feel like you could collapse.

“Mornin’,” he says, over the dull droning from the phone. Your eyes flit down to it, a question, and he answers, “weekend update.”

“Anything good?”

He shakes his head, leaning forward to hit the unmute button, affirm whatever the hell the other dude had been saying, say his goodbyes, and then hang up.

“Feelin’ fresh?” he asks when he’s sat back.

You take a deep breath and wobble your head as an answer, laying files and folders out on the table in preparation for the meeting Joel has this morning.

“That bad, huh?”

“I was fine by Saturday afternoon. How were you?”

He shrugs. “Wasn’t that drunk.”

Yeah. Sure, Joel. Your fingers took the brunt of the alcohol.

He stands up, wanders around the table to join you. Your fingers begin to tremble at the thought of him so close. Your thighs heat.

“This all of it?” he asks. He’s closer than you thought.

“Y-yep. Some copies there, too, if anyone needs a spare.”

His hand slips up between your shoulder blades, patting you gently at the base of your neck.

“Good job, baby.”

You almost fucking shudder. Your stomach jolts, your chest tightens. The ache between your legs pangs, reminding you it’s there, even though you can’t fucking do anything about it.

You spin around, settling back against the table, ankles crossed. Tense.

“How long do you reckon it’ll go on?”

“No idea. Why? Somewhere you gotta be?”

You shake your head. “Just organizing lunch ‘n stuff for you.”

“That can wait until after.”

“I’ll have it ready for you comin’ out. Be easier.”

He steps forward. Your heart stutters.

“You’ll be in here with me.”

You cock your head. “Again? What– Why?”

“I need you in here. To take–”

“–minutes? Yeah, figured as much. You gonna have me up here all night again writing ‘em up?”

He smirks, dimples in his cheeks. There are two options here: either smack him, or jump his bones – he deserves the first and you deserve the latter.

“I like having you in my meetings, darlin’,” he says, as the door handle turns, “stops me wanting to blow my brains out.”

Martha enters and Joel slots in alongside you on the table. She sets a tray with a coffee pot and packets of sugar and milk on the sideboard.

Your head is fucking dizzy. There’s a ringing in your ears. Energy sparkling in waves from the tops of your thighs all through you. Joel’s shoulder brushing against yours, his eyes boring into the side of your face.

You won’t look at him. Won’t take your eyes off of Martha, laying paper coffee cups out in rows, her back to you guys.

Joel lays a palm flat on your thigh, rounding the curve until his hand is firm between your legs, threatening to push your skirt up. You feel his breath hot on your neck, his voice like honey in your ear.

“Makes for a nice view, too.”

You whip around to glare at him. He leans back, chuckling to himself.

Through gritted teeth, you whisper, “Can I talk to you? In private?”

Joel shrugs, excuses you both to Martha, and then follows at your heels out of the conference room and over to his office door. You waltz in without permission, shoving the door open and waiting for him to close it behind himself.

Joel’s office is bright, clean. Giant windows lining three walls, huge desk with an even bigger bookcase behind. Two black leather couches opposite, facing one another with a glass coffee table between. Soft white rugs, obnoxiously huge lampshades, small fern plants dotted here and there. You found and booked the interior designer for him, and not a day’s gone by since that you don’t remind him of how nice a job you did.

Today, though, you break that streak. You round on him as soon as he closes the tall, wooden door behind him.

“Will you fucking quit it?”

“Fucking quit what, baby?” He’s almost laughing, strolling around his desk and settling into his leather chair, leaning back. Casual. Fucking – arrogant.

You stammer, holding up a shaky finger. “Okay, first of all – that. Don’t call me baby, that’s not appropriate. Second – the teasing?”

“I don’t get it, you liked me callin’ you baby on Friday night.”

You take your bottom lip between your teeth and give him a furious stare. He holds his hands up.

“My mistake.”

You stalk over to the windows separating Joel’s office from the reception area. Martha’s still in the conference room, the door ajar. You haul the shades shut to give yourselves some privacy.

“Stop – fucking with me. Stop it. We were drunk on Friday night. It wasn’t– Stop.”

“’m not fucking with you.” He leans his head to scratch his eyebrow. He repeats it when you turn away, hands flying up in the air. “I’m not.”

“Let’s just forget Friday happened, can we do that?”

Wandering around Joel’s office isn’t doing anything to relieve the weight between your legs. If anything, it’s making it worse. You make your way back to his desk and place your hands down on the wood, leaning over.

“Wh…what’s next on the agenda?” you ask, almost panting, your eyes closing.

You hear Joel’s chair rock when his weight leaves it. His footsteps pad across soft carpet, around the desk. Nearing you. They come to a halt and you feel the air stop short, right behind you.

For someone not trying to fuck with you, he’s doing an awfully good job at it.

You surrender, leaning back, your shoulders making contact with his chest. Then his hands find your hips, light, gentle. No pressure on them, not until your ass presses against his crotch and your head tilts, allowing Joel to hook his chin over your shoulder.

He’s hard, under his pants. Against you. You can feel it, still, steady. Rock solid beneath four layers of clothing.

His hands lift from your waist and glide up your shirt front, your stomach tensing when they brush over it. They come to rest over your breasts, squeezing and pinching your nipples through your shirt. And you fucking let him; lifting your right arm to hook around his jaw and pull him closer into your neck, where his lips leave soft, wet marks.

It feels like the first gasp of fresh, sea air after being underwater. The first gulp of chilled water after a hike. The first wave of aircon in the car. It’s relief. It’s desperate, borderline orgasmic relief.

You grind your ass and Joel hums into your skin. He’s getting harder by the second, you’re getting wetter. It’s not enough, what you’re doing. You need more.

You lower your hand and cup him through his pants, taking hold of his bulge and massaging gently. His hips are moving, he’s rutting into your palm, both of you desperate to rid yourselves of the clothing separating your skin.

“I asked,” you breathe, “what’s next on the agenda?”

“Next,” Joel mumbles into your skin, “was thinkin’ I could bend you over this desk ‘n fuck you.”

“Fuck me?” you repeat, and he nods. You take a breath. “S-sounds good.”

Joel’s hands find the hem of your skirt and start to pull it up your legs, painfully slow, revealing more and more of your bare thighs as he goes. He’s rubbing them, massaging until your skirt sits on your hips, little black panties exposed. His hand comes down to cup you, fingers gently applying pressure to your clit through the lace.

You moan, finally being touched by him again, finally feeling his hands on you where you need it most. Already, he’s doing better, making you feel better than you could ever by yourself. Than you did, by yourself. Involuntarily, you breathe out, “Daddy…”

Joel’s fingers pick up the pace. He fucking loves it.

“That feel good, baby? Like it like that? Tell me how it feels.”

“So – fucking – good,” you whisper, legs parting more to grant him better access. He dips his hand lower, thumb staying planted on your lace-covered clit, fingers shifting the fabric under your entrance aside.

He toys with you first, middle finger swaying back and forth through your folds, collecting slick, spreading it around. Then, a second finger, pushing upward, dangerously close to entering you. You’re gasping, leaning into him, letting his strong form keep you upright.

“That’s my girl,” Joel’s whispering into your ear. “You ain’t gotta do nothin’, just enjoy.”

And then he pushes up, two thick, curled fingers entering your cunt in one motion. He has you down to his knuckles, limp against his chest, mouth wide open in a silent gasp. Your head rolls to the side to watch him as he feels you for the first time, and his expression mirrors yours.

“So fuckin’ wet, babygirl,” he whispers, lips on your forehead.

“Fuck, daddy,” you whimper as his fingers press hard inside your soft pussy, starting to pump gently before picking up the pace and fucking you good.

The office is silent, save for your gasps and moans, and the wet sounds of Joel’s fingers in your cunt. He hums into your neck, thumb pressing hard against your clit, drawing tiny circles over the swollen bud.

It doesn’t take fucking long before you’re collapsing, walls clenching, teetering on the edge of your orgasm. It’s all that’s been on your mind for almost three days, all you’ve imagined, dreamt about, thought of.

Joel feels you, knows you’re close.

“Wanna cum all over daddy’s fingers, pretty girl?”

“Mhm,” you bite back a yelp, “so – close.”

“Know you are, baby. It’s okay, you can cum. Let me feel you.”

That coil, slowly winding since approximately nine-thirty on Friday night, not relieved by your hands, your toys, or your fucking pillows, snaps in one second. The tension breaks across your stomach. Your legs give; Joel’s free hand wraps around your waist to hold you upright.

You throw your head back against his shoulder again, jaw slack with a moan you know you can’t give voice to. Joel fucks you all the way through it, fingers coated in your cum only to dive straight back in, wetter and slicker than before.

There are stars in your vision. You can’t feel between your legs. The office is slowly blinking back into view, but Joel gives you no time to recover.

He pushes you face down onto his desk roughly, hastily, like someone’s about to wander through his door any second. One ear pressed to the cold wood, you hear his belt clink, feel the teeth of his zipper graze your thighs. Hear his deep breaths as he drags his pants and boxershorts down to free his cock.

You’ve never seen him, obviously. You’ve pictured it, dreamt up what it would look like with your fingers deep inside yourself. And from this angle you still don’t see it, but when the weight of it springs against your ass, when Joel lines himself up and his tip dips between your cum-covered folds, you fucking feel it.

His thick head pushing slightly into your entrance, coating him in your slick. He’s big. You moan at the time he’s taking to just shove into you; it’s probably seconds, but it feels like fucking hours.

“I hear ya, I know,” he’s saying, but your hearing’s starting to fade. Blood pumping through your head, white noise rattling against your eardrums.

He pushes in, length separating your clenched walls, entering your wet, warm cunt with a deep growl from Joel’s lips and a gasp from yours. You open up around him, swelling as he pushes deeper and deeper.

“So – fuckin’ – tight for me, baby,” he groans, hands on your hips pulling you back onto his length. “You feel that? Feel how tight you are?”

“Mhm,” you reply, the stretch of his thick cock burning and igniting you in flame. Your eyes screw shut as he keeps pushing, further than you ever thought anyone could, until his tip kisses your cervix and you whine.

“Quiet, babygirl,” he says, pausing and placing a steady hand on the small of your back. “We don’t need anyone out there knowin’ what we’re doin’.”

“So good, daddy,” you whimper quietly, and he knows. He fucking knows.

He begins to draw back, hips leaving your ass, cock pulling out of your pussy. Your eyes roll closed, missing him the more he withdraws. Before he’s fully gone, he snaps back inside, entering you harder, faster, deeper.

You gasp, knuckles whitening with the grip of your balled fists. You bend one arm, biting into your sleeve to stop your whimpers from slipping under the door.

A couple more thrusts and Joel’s fucking you. Hard. He’s fucking huge, so huge it blurs the edges of your vision every time his cock hits against your cervix. He’s almost fucking whimpering behind you, growling your name with every stroke, groaning each time he bottoms out inside you and your tight hole wraps around his length.

You can feel the edge of the table bruising your pelvis, and it feels so fucking good. Everything about this feels good. Joel’s cock stretching you out, his hands gripping you roughly, your own hands outstretched to hold onto the desk for some sort of stability.

The only thought going through your head, only words your lips can part to utter: daddy daddy daddy.

“Good girl,” Joel hums, your moans like music to his ears. “Good fuckin’ girl. Know how naughty you are for me?”

You smile. “Yeah, daddy.”

This is the filthiest thing you’ve ever fucking done. Sure, you love sex, especially when it’s rough. But nothing you’ve ever done with anyone else, nothing you’ve ever had done to you by anyone else, compares to being bent over your boss’s desk and fucked dumb by him.

Calling him daddy, corporate managers slowly filing into a conference room just outside. Only an unlocked door separating them from you, writhing and throbbing under Joel’s cock, his rough hands on your hips, your name passing his lips in breathy moans.

Is it wrong? Yes. Do you care? Fuck no.

You know he’s close; his thrusts become sloppy, hips start hammering against you.

“Where d’you want it, baby?” he grunts, skin slapping.

You’re on the pill, and if you answered honestly, you’d tell him to finish inside you. But you know that if he wanted to do that, he’d just fucking do it. Wouldn’t ask. And you’re not prepared to waste time arguing.

“My m-mouth.”

“C’mere.” Joel slips out of you with no effort, you’re so fucking soaked for him, and spins you around. A gentle hand on your shoulder, he pushes you onto your knees, free hand jacking his cock over you.

It’s the first time you see him, fist tugging up and down a thick, veiny shaft; swollen, reddened tip spilling precum which his thumb collects and drags down his length, gleaming with your wet.

On instinct, you push forward, one hand coming to rest on his thigh, the other taking over from his on his dick. You pump him a few times, and then open your mouth wide enough to take him all the way until he’s brushing the back of your throat.

With a choke, you begin bobbing your head up and down, cheeks hollow, breathing deep through your nose. Joel moans, head rolling back, hand coming to hold your hair in a fist. He drags you back and forth a few times before he begins to shudder and you draw back, holding him steady on your swollen bottom lip.

He looks down at you and your eyes lock as he cums all over your tongue. You moan as your mouth fills with his warm, salty load. When his cock stills and he stops spilling all over you, you lean back and close your mouth, licking your lips and swallowing him.

“Aw, babygirl,” he coos, stroking your hair. “Good job. Such a good girl for me.”

You both take a few seconds to catch your breath before Joel’s hands hook under your arms and he pulls you back up, letting you lean against his desk.

Still in a daze, you feel him tug your skirt back down, fix your shirt. Tuck your hair behind your ears, wipe either saliva or cum from your lips.

“Good?” he asks, and you lace your fingers in his.

Your breath is still shaky, but through a sigh, you say, “Good.”

He nods. “Can hear Ken out front, must all be arrivin’.” He pulls you over to the door.

His fingers wrap around the handle, free hand coming up to cup your cheek. He leans down and presses his lips against yours. You open your mouth and let his tongue past, moaning into the wet, messy kiss.

Something in you almost wants to laugh, thinking about the fact you let him fuck you before you’d even kissed him.

When he pulls away, your hands take hold of his jaw, keeping him at your height.

“Have a good meeting,” you whisper, pecking him on the lips, “text me what you want for lunch.”

He growls, yanking the door open and passing by you, granting your wish to sit this one out. Something in you tells you not to wander far, though.

He’ll probably want to blow off some steam when he’s done.

----------

taglist: @earthtogrogu @serenaxpedro @brittmb115 @jediknightjana @mrsquill @uncassettodiricordi

(lmk if i’ve missed you out & check my taglist info for how to be added!)

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #ceo!joel miller #ceo!joel #the last of us #tlou #tlou fic #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #the last of us hbo #tlou hbo

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sierrale8ne · 20 days ago

Text

40 DAYS AND 40 NIGHTS CHAPTER SEVEN

thought i’d be lying if i said ‘i didn’t want you to myself.’ when you look me in my eyes and, tell me that it’s mine, i…

pairing wnba!paige bueckers x singer!oc

taglist @thaatdigitaldiary @ohbueckers @wbbgetsmewetter @rosemariiaa @tndaqlifwy @patscorner @pboogerswbb @xxloveralways14 @makethemhoesmad @h34rtsformilli @uconnpazzi @luvapaigeeyy @hedidnotpleaseme @paigesbabygirl @mopopshop @omg-imtumbling @ch12334 @wbb4l (sorry about these ones that didn’t work ☹️) @yassedsblog @jissy22 @blank-blank80 @brynslverr @melinaaa3 @alex-1347 @lolbods @girlypop05

kalena speakss 🪽! this is a filler chapter, everything starts to ramp up and get more messy (as if it isn’t already) starting next chapter ;)

June 2025 — New York City, New York

“Don’t even bring that up, oh my God.” Rickea laughs, reaching one of her long arms over to slap at my knee.

Rickea, Cameron, and I sit soundly in the green room, makeup placed deliberately on our faces. We played the Liberty last night, in a game with an outcome I would rather forget than talk about.

But today, after the team hopped on the first charter back to LA, we had a date with GQ. They called it The Teammates Quiz, and we were given the honor of being the first women’s sports team with the opportunity. I thought it was a cool idea, a game that I would certainly win because I know my teammates well.

However, it seems like these two know me just as well because they are airing my business out to everybody in this room right now. Well, maybe not all of it, but close enough.

“Kea, you fell on your face in the middle of downtown LA. I’m with P, I’m so bringing it up.” Cameron laughs.

“I was drunk!”

“You were more sober than P. And she drinks like a man going through a divorce.” I instantly pull back from my makeup artist, looking over at my teammate incredulously.

“I do not!” I attempt to defend. “You two insisted on buying drinks after the draft, not me.”

Cameron, who’s seconds away from bursting out in tears of laughter, speaks up through her ragged breaths. “You got so drunk you were making out with random girls in the club.”

“Least I ain’t fall on concrete in the middle of LA.” I laugh, sitting back in my seat and allowing Joanna to get back to doing my makeup. I let her and Brittany take control of my look, they know best after all.

You would think with the way the three of us all talk to each other that our on court chemistry is terrible, but it’s the complete opposite. Probably why GQ asked us to do this little segment today. I cut my attention back to my teammates when Rickea’s voice cuts through the air again.

“Have you talked to Raye lately?”

The way she asks it seems skeptical. Like she knows something, or is suspicious of something and I can’t pick up why. We’ve been keeping our friendship pretty cordial— at least to our friends and in public.

Maybe Maraye told her about the kiss. Maybe Maraye told her literally nothing, and Rickea is just trying to pry as she does often.

“Uh yeah, we hung out a few nights ago.” I respond, so lucky that Joanne is angling my head in the opposite direction, successfully hiding my growing red face from my teammates. “She’s pretty cool.”

Which isn’t a lie, we did hang out a few nights ago. Only my lips start tingling whenever I think about it. I swear I can taste her still on them all these hours later; like a mix of every single dessert on the planet. So damn sweet. I wonder if she always tasted like that, or if she tasted different elsewhere.

And yes, Maraye is pretty cool. Pretty funny, pretty smart, pretty talented, pretty. So fucking pretty.

I’m realizing now that three days has been too damn long. To see her damn near everyday, then not at all for a week, then again in which I end up with my tongue down her throat. To not have been within inches of her for 72 fucking hours has me going just a bit crazy.

“I didn’t know y’all were hanging out.”

“I didn’t know I was supposed to tell you that.” I fire back too quickly. It makes it seem defensive, and it’s not. I have nothing to hide.

Well yeah I do, but I think I’m pretty good at hiding it.

“Paige.” Cam says, cutting into the conversation awkwardly. “Please don’t tell me you did something stupid.”

I slouch back in my seat and Brittany, who I swore just magically spawned behind me, slaps my shoulder telling me to sit up. “I didn’t! You guys can’t ever just trust me.” I laugh.

“‘Cause you get caught doing stupid shit!” Rickea explains.

“Caught?”

“Caught? Again?”

“You haven’t seen twitter?”

Those four words always make my heart beat out of my chest. The internet is cool when it comes to me, out of pocket sure, but cool. But on the off occasion that they aren’t, it’s because they are either making shitty posts about what i’m doing on the court, writing think pieces, or minding my business rather than their own. I’m assuming, in context to Maraye, that it’s the latter.

“The fuck happened this time.” I ask with a huff. The first time, I had gotten too comfortable at the club. Which was admittedly my own drunken fault. The second time I was trending because people swore up and down I was making goo-goo eyes at Taylor Rooks. Which I was, she’s absolutely unreal. And now here we are.

Cameron is the one who looks first, and by the look of her face I assume it’s pretty telling. Rickea hands me her phone. I take it, slightly shaking and I don’t know why.

My eyes are stuck to the screen, and it’s four pictures. I’m not sure who took them, but Maraye has reached A-list status and I forget the Paps are everywhere when it comes to her.

The first is us leaving the bar in Atlanta. Maraye’s head isn’t in the shot, she’s busy hopping into the backseat of our uber, but mine is. It’s very obviously me, my signature braids down the side of my face rather than in the usual ponytail. My hand is stuck comfortably in the pocket of my zip up while the other holds the door open for her.

The second photo is from when we’re seated at Waffle house. I’m showing all 32 while Maraye talks, and it makes us look like a fucking couple. Her arms rest on the table, head slightly tilted. From the angle, again, you can’t see all her face but her side profile is obvious. Anyone could point it out and recognize her.

But it’s the last two that make us look the most guilty. My arm draped over her shoulder is very incriminating. She held her pink lemonade flavored slushee in her hand, looking up at me. One more swipe and I’m looking at myself paying for those two slushee’s. It doesn’t help that my jacket from earlier that night is now zipped up over her body.

‘Paige Bueckers and Maraye Carter in atl this weekend 😲’ Reads the tweet. It’s messy, even more when I scroll further and see people putting pieces together. The replies are full of videos from opening night, screenshots of my recent activity in her instagram likes, and of course, of course, someone had to have seen me in my seat at her concert.

It looks bad. I would say worse than it is, but it all doesn’t even scratch the surface.

“We just friends.” I mumble, I wouldn’t be surprised if my nose grew a centimeter or two. “Y’know how people get.”

I hand Rickea her phone back. She’s the one I should be scared off, Cameron has been done with my relationship issues since I first met her as kids. But Kea? After the talk about leaving Maraye alone, and how I know better, and how I don’t need to get hurt. I’m terrified that I’m about to get caught.

“Has she seen these?”

“Ion know.” She responded. “Probably. But If you two are jus’ friends’, then don’t sweat it. Hollywood moves fast.”

Really fast.

—

June 2025 — Los Angeles, California

“You’re literally a fan, shut up.” I joke at the blonde sitting besides me.

She’s messily scarfing down her chipotle bowl as we sit in her car. The windows are tinted nicely and my album shuffles through her speakers, even though she swears up and down that she didn’t add it to her library.

“Am not.”

“Yeah yeah, pinocchio.”

It’s my first time seeing her since the night in my condo, and it’s awkward. Which is weird because Paige and I have never been awkward together. Everything was always smooth, fluid, when it came to her. But now I don’t know what to say.

I blame it on the kiss.

It should’ve never happened. She knows that, I know that. Even then I don’t regret it.

I’ve never in my life had feelings for a woman before, until now. And it’s so weird because I think I still have feelings for Julian too. It’s not the same thing though. Julian is perfect for me. Good job, family man, tall, handsome, the most gorgeous and perfect curly hair I’ve ever seen. Then there’s Paige, and she just might be perfect for me too. Work oriented, funny, insanely smart even though I tell her she’s not.

So I sit silent in her passenger seat, not a clue in the world of what I should say to her. She makes me nervous, she makes the bottom of my stomach twist up whenever I look at her and see those beautiful blue eyes. I shouldn’t feel that way, I know that. But damn does she make it hard.

“Maraye?”

“Yeah?”

Paige chuckles, reaching over to wipe a bit of Vinaigrette from my lip. “I said ‘you good?’”

I nod and my head moves slightly away from her reach. “Yeah. Why?” I ask, taking a generous bit from my burrito.

“Because you’re sittin’ there all quiet.” She explains. “I know we kissed and all that but I ain’t think you would stop bein’ cool around me.” She says in an attempt to ease the atmosphere, the obvious tension that bounces off walls.

“It’s not that.” I mumble.

She puts the lid on her bowl, reaching towards the back seat to drop the trash in the brown chipotle bag. When she turns back to face me, I get a great look at her for the first time all night. Her hair is in a messy bun, strands slightly framing her face.

“Then what is it, Raye?” Paige slouches in the seat. “‘Cause don’t get me wrong, I feel some typa way about you but we’re friends first—”

“I wanna kiss you again.” I blurt out. It’s word vomit, like I can’t help but tell her how badly I want her lips on mine and her tongue in my mouth. Hands on my waist, my ass, in my hair.

She laughs, and I pray to God she’s not laughing at me. “That’s why you can’t talk to me anymore?”

“I wanna kiss you, but I know how wrong that is. I have a boyfriend, and everyone already thinks something is going on here.” My finger gestures between the both of us.

“You saw the pictures?” Paige cuts me off. Her hand slips forward to grab her phone.

“Did you?”

“Kea showed me them yesterday.”

We sit in silence. I’m trying to process her response.

“Did, uh, did Julian see them?” She asks.

Shit. Julian. It seems like I’m constantly forgetting about him whenever I’m with her. Always. I’m such a fucking asshole.

“No, I-I didn’t show him. I don’t think I needed to.” I explain through my stutter. He didn’t need to see them. One, because it wasn’t anything serious. The photos made Paige and I look bad, sure, but there was nothing to worry about. It would only make me and him argue, and we do enough of that already.

“Good.” She nods. “He probably shouldn’t anyway.”

“Yeah.”

“Y’know I really wanna kiss you too.” Paige says. I thought that was it. The kiss happened once, and we were back to being friends. Being normal.

“Paige—”

“I can’t stop thinkin’ about it.”

“P, quit it.”

“I keep thinking about how you taste. Like all day. And I shouldn’t, I know that, but you make it fuckin’ impossible.” The blonde sighs. Her eyes fall shut like it’s painful, painful to not kiss me.

I shake my head, hoping that it’s enough for her to stop talking about it. “Paige, you and I are friends. That’s it. I have a boyfriend, and you’re not a home wrecker. We aren’t doing that again.”

She goes quiet. Then her eyes open and she turns back towards the wheel. It’s 10:30 at night and she has a game in the morning. Paige’s hips raise slightly to fix her sweatpants. A pulse races through me when it happens.

“You understand? We can’t.” I ask, pulling her out of her thoughts.

“Yeah. Yeah, just friends.” Paige says.

I want to believe her. I really do. But the look in her eyes tells me I shouldn’t. Those blue orbs I know so well are suddenly a deep color, pupils wide. She slightly bites the corner of her lip, staring at me like I could run away.

“Stop looking at me like that.” I push at her shoulder, a chuckle escaping my lips. “I’m serious. No kissing, no flirting. I’m not a cheater, P. This shouldn’t have happened.”

“I know, I know. I won’t.” She responds. “But if it happens?” Paige leans into me again. Her hand flicking a curl away from my face before playing with it. She stares at me with intensity.

“It won’t.”

“If it does, I’m not apologizing for it.”

And then she pulls back, sitting in her seat and pulling her seatbelt over her body. She turns the engine on without even a second thought.

I sit there speechless, burrito growing cold between my hands. And I know, without a doubt, no matter how badly I want to hold out and follow through on my promise.

Paige is dangerous, and I don’t think I have it in me.

She’s gonna win. Again.

#sierrale8ne #kalena’s works ୧ ‧₊˚ 🍵 ⋅#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x oc #paige bueckers smut #uconn wbb #la sparks #lesbian #my fic #40 days and 40 nights

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shhhsecretsideblog · 1 month ago

Note

They had been trying for a baby for a while, when finally she was looking at a positive test. Unfortunately, there was only one time it could have happened. A bit too much to drink, a few confessions that she'd sometimes thought about her husbands best friend in some of her more intimate fantasies, and just like that his little secret had taken root in her belly.

She was excited to be a mom, but can't bring herself to tell her husband she's expecting. Hiding her bump as best she can, not letting herself be intimate with him in case he noticed her beautiful changing body, how firm and heavy her belly had gotten. She has a plan. Give birth in secret where he won't find out, and then claim someone left the baby there. "Probably some teenager or something, can't imagine how she could raise it." Of course, since they're struggling to have one of their own, it's all but a sign. Of course they should take it in.

A perfect little plan for the eager mom to get out of her bad choice concequence free.

At least, it would be, if her waters hadn't broken in the shower, and the contractions were starting to get worse and worse, no matter how she tried to pretend otherwise and act like nothing was happening...

Extramarital Consequences

AN: I just wanted to write a short little rp drabble, but instead it comes out as a full scale 3k word fic. Thanks for the prompt MuchBirth, it was a great concept. Hope you like it. [fpreg, tw: vomit, tw: cheating]

“Are you alright in there, babe?” My husband's voice sounded through the bathroom door and I tried to swallow the groan that was sitting in my throat.

Why now, why today?! I had done so well concealing this pregnancy from everyone, thanks to the cold winter and the abundance of thick oversized jumpers and coats. And for the fact I was carrying a rather modest, if heavy, bump. Said bump had dropped in recent days and I had hoped the baby was merely getting prepared and wouldn’t be coming for another week when Daniel would be away on business. The baby, it seemed, had other ideas.

The contractions had started in the early hours and I laid beside my husband quietly breathing through each pain and praying it was just braxton hicks. But they just kept on coming. Every 40 minutes�� every 30 minutes… and when they got down to 20 minutes apart I knew I had to move.

Hiding downstairs in the dark, I paced around our living room and kitchen as the contractions got closer together and more and more intense. Why couldn’t it have been a work day?! Daniel would leave the house early and I could labour and birth this baby in secret just as I’d planned. But it was Saturday and we were scheduled to go to a family event that afternoon. The heavy weight of the baby sitting low in my pelvis confirmed there was little-to-no chance of me making it to that party.

I paced around the downstairs of our town house until the early morning with its first glimpse of a rising sun filtering through the windows. Bracing myself against walls, tables, all manner of furniture, I spent hours swaying my hips through each agonising contraction that struck, praying they would eventually stop but they never did. I heard Daniel get out of bed and jump in the shower and I busied myself doing the dishes when he came downstairs. He looked at me curiously, seeing my sweaty and flushed face and asked if I was coming down with something. I assured him I was fine as he made his morning coffee, but soon had to twist back around to face the sink to hide the grimace on my face as another strong contraction barrelled its way through my womb. My hands gripped the counter in a white knuckle grip and it took everything I had not to whimper from the pain.

After assuring Daniel that I was alright, I disappeared quickly back upstairs and locked myself in the bathroom. I turned on the shower, the tiled room echoing the loud noise of the powerful jets, and allowed myself to groan deeply through the next contraction. They were less than 15 minutes apart and had the ability to steal my breath away. Gripping the sink and panting heavily, my mind began to spiral and panic. How the fuck was I going to keep this from Daniel?! We were struggling to conceive, if his discovered this pregnancy there would be no way I could pass this baby off as his. He would find out I slept with his best friend and my dream of a suburban family life would be destroyed. The baby sank lower in my hips and my knees dipped into a semi-squat from the increase in pressure. We were supposed to go to a party later, with family and friends, and Daniel would be by my side all day. But this baby was coming, soon if the pressure between my legs was any indication.

I stepped into the shower, attempting to ease the pain knifing at my lower back. Cupping my protruding belly I whispered a plea to the baby to stay put a while longer. I loved my pregnant body and was sad not to have shared this experience, to marvel at the incredible changes of pregnancy, with my partner. But there was an alluring excitement in keeping the baby secret - something just known by them and me. I couldn’t wait to meet the life I had been growing.

My thoughts tempted fate and the next contraction was soon upon me and I doubled over in the shower bracing my knees. The pressure between my thighs was building, the steaming hot water doing very little to ease the pain as it crested, my belly turning to stone and pushing everything downward. “Mnghhhhhhh!!” I grunted, involuntary, and almost dropped into a squat as the urgency built. No… baby, not now.

The water at my feet turned a pinkish murky colour and I knew from the release of pressure that my waters had just broken. Fuck.

When the contraction faded and my legs stopped shaking I carefully stepped out of the shower. Okay… my water’s broken but that doesn’t mean I’ve run out of time. I just need to think of a way of getting Daniel out of the house. I could feel the baby shift and kick within my womb, protesting the situation as much as I was, its head pressing eagerly against my cervix. “Hoooo… it’ll be okay little one. I promise— mnnnnhhhh…” Every breath, every word, that slipped past my lips now laced with a pained groan.

“Are you alright in there, babe?” Daniel asked from the other side of our bathroom door. I clamped my mouth shut and swallowed the involuntary noises from escaping.

“Nng— yeah— fine.” I somehow gritted. The weight and pressure pushing down in my pelvis was quickly making me nauseous.

“Are you sure? You weren’t looking too great downstairs.”

Damn him and his caring nature, just move away from the door before I scream! A contraction struck mere minutes after the last and I couldn’t stop the gasp as my belly visibly hardened and contorted inwards. The pressure was mounting, expanding like a balloon about to burst, my pelvis being shoved apart to make space for the large head that was pressing atop my cervix. I couldn’t breathe, the sensations overwhelming my senses, my stomach rolled and my throat gagged. I was going to be sick.

Dropping to my knees, naked on the floor, I hunched over the toilet bowl and promptly vomited the remnants of last night's dinner into the porcelain. My whole torso contracted in on itself in more ways than one and I completely lost all semblance of control. My taut belly, hardened by labour pains, convulsed and I heaved and coughed loudly. The force of throwing up also resulted in my womb squeezing against the bowling ball in my pelvis, bearing down on the already low head and pushing it into the birth canal.

“Oh sweetheart, are you sick?” Daniel asked through the door. “Let me in honey.”

“No, just— give me a minute…” I gruffed, laying my head in the crook of my elbow.

“We don’t have to go today if you’re not well. I can stay here and look after you.”

Hell no, that is the last thing I need. I asked him to get me some water from the kitchen, to buy me some precious time to gather myself. When the sickness passed I hesitantly put a hand between my legs… the baby so low it felt like it was about to fall out at any minute. I had pushed. I didn’t mean to, it was automatic. But still my body had pushed the baby lower towards its exit. Thankfully it was not as low as it felt as I couldn’t feel a head, but I knew it wouldn’t be long. Wrapping myself in a fluffy dressing gown and schooling as neutral a face as I could, I unlocked the door and greeted my husband as he brought me the requested water.

“I don’t think I’m going to go today, I feel like shit.” I said honestly, taking a sip and slowly walking towards our bed, careful not to waddle from the massive head lodged in my pelvis.

“It’s okay babes, we can cancel. I’ll call your parents.” Daniel offered, helping me to sit.

“No—” I said a little too quickly. “You- you can still go. I’ll just take it easy and s-sleep it off…” He looked at me curiously, trying to ascertain just how unwell I was and if I could be left alone. “Really,” I pleaded, “I’ll be fine. Go, have fun.”

“Well, if you’re sure.”

“I am. Really—mmhh…” My hands clenched tight as another contraction was beginning to appear, my fingernails burrowing deep into my palms. “W-why don’t you go e-early… see if they need h-help setting up.” My stomach tensed beneath my fluffy dressing gown and I shifted subtly on the bed as an immeasurable pressure returned with the pain. This baby was not waiting until the afternoon for Daniel to leave for the party, I desperately needed him to go now.

“Are you trying to get rid of me?” Daniel joked, tucking a frazzled lock of hair behind my ear. “I want to stay and look after you darling, make sure you’re okay.”

“Mnnn… I just need to lie down…” I huffed, trying to keep the strain from my voice. My body was itching to move, to sway and move my hips, to open up for the emerging baby as the contractions worked hard to deliver the child. But I had to fight against the instincts, ignore all the cues in the recess of my brain. Slumping sideways down on the bed, I curled over my contracting belly and arduously moved to lie under the covers. My skin was radiating heat but I couldn’t remove my dressing gown, couldn’t risk exposing a glimpse of my pregnant body. Had to stay covered, had to hide this baby, had to stay sweating beneath the fluffy gown and duvet covers.

Daniel stroked my hair as I curled up and I couldn’t help but scrunch my eyes through the pain barrelling between my hips. Oh baby, wait a bit more… please.

“Are you sure you’re going to be alright hun?” Daniel questioned once more and I managed to gruff out an assurance, stating that I’d be fine and just needed to be alone.

Thankfully I felt the bed shift, my husband getting up and leaving the room saying something about calling the family and giving me space to rest. I sighed in relief at the sound of the bedroom door closing.

Lying on my side helped the constant stabbing pain in my lower back but it was doing nothing to prevent the baby from making its way further down. I could feel it pressing against every nerve from the inside, pushing its way through the narrow space. I tried to squeeze my thighs, to clench everything I could to stop its movements but nothing worked. The pressure was constant, sitting heavily and urgently at the apex of my thighs. Rolling forward I buried my face deep in the pillow to muffle the rattled groan that came from the pit of my stomach. The baby was right there, its imminent arrival clear by the agonising pressure consuming me. I tried to fight it, meeting every wave with defiance, but my attempts were failing. I needed to push.

Before I was even aware of what was happening my whole body tensed and bore down with the peak of the contraction. It felt…satisfying, to give in to the urge and push alongside the tensing muscles, to work with my body instead of against it. Gasping a ragged breath, I pushed again, more forcefully this time. It was moving, inching closer towards my folds. Without thinking I grabbed my leg, still wrapped under the layers of clothing and duvet, and I pulled it towards me so my thigh was beside my contracting belly. I had to make more room, I needed to open myself up for the emerging babe. The back of my knee was damp from sweat and I gripped it tight, opening my hip beneath the covers, and gritting my teeth I pushed again.

It was coming, I could feel it! The contraction soon ended and I let my leg fall back against the other, curled up sideways on the bed and panting frantic breaths. A knock on the bedroom door brought me out of my birthing bubble, suddenly remembering Daniel was still in the house. Oh fuck, what if he heard me pushing?!

“Honey..? Can I come in?” His tentative voice asked and opened the door a crack. I groaned, neither an acceptance or refusal, but it was all I could manage.

Daniel stepped in our bedroom softly. “I’ve spoken with your parents and I’m going to head over there early and help them set up. I know you like to be alone when you’re unwell.” I nearly cried with relief.

“But I’ll come back to check on you before the party starts, okay?” Daniel perched on the edge of the bed and brushed his fingers through my sweaty hair. I nodded and exhaled heavily, hoping it looked like I was just fighting nausea and nothing more. “I’ll get you a bucket, just in case.” Daniel said sweetly and disappeared into our en-suite bathroom.

The contractions were right on top of each other now, the baby was sitting right between my legs desperate to get out. The next wave hit when Daniel was out of sight and I panted as quietly as I could. Don’t push… don’t push… don’t push… I thought over and over again. Curled up on my side my legs drifted apart, one leg bent at the knee, the other straight down the length of the bed. The pressure was slowly killing me; the strain of holding everything in, the baby slipping lower, pressing gently against my labia despite my efforts. Fuck I needed to push, but I daren’t. Daniel was still here…. Breathe… don’t push… breathe… don’t push… Even with the mantra my body did not adhere to the instructions. At the end of each measured breath I could feel my muscles bearing down and pushing the baby, its head starting to part my sensitive lips.

Daniel came back into the room and placed a bucket beside the bed, right next to the pillow where my face was half buried. “How you holding up?” He asked affectionately. I couldn’t speak, could barely breathe, every ounce of strength going into not actively pushing. Instead I closed my eyes and tilted my face further into the pillow.

In the faint background of my personal hell I could hear my husband slowly pottering around our bedroom as he got himself dressed and ready to leave for the party. Every minute dragged on for hours, as he found his trousers and shirt, muttering to himself, all the while I wanted to scream and howl and push! The baby was parting my folds, its head surely poking out between my thighs. Tears dampened the pillow and I was trembling, trying desperately hard not to push. But even without my participation, the baby was slowly making its way into the world. I nervously lowered one of my hands beneath the heavy covers, feeling between my legs. Oh my gosh… that’s my baby I thought as I felt the slimy surface of the partial sliver of its head. It was moving down, every contraction squeezing it further out of my body. My palm clamped hard over the emerging head… don’t… don’t pushhhhhh… a weak groan rumbled my throat as my body uncontrollably pushed, hard.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Daniel asked.

I was far from okay, I was pushing his best friend's baby into my own palm for fucks sake. In between pushes, I gulped a breath and offered a short and snappy “uh-huh” before my body was forced to bear down once more. My hand remained steadfast in its position between my legs and thankfully the baby didn’t slip out any further. Once the contraction eased I panted a relieved sigh.

“I’m heading out now babes.” Daniel stated aloud. “I’ll be back to check on you later. I love you.”

“Ngghh— love you too—” my rasped voice came from under the covers. I was in too much pain to notice the guilt that twisted in my chest.

I remained frozen in the bed, my ears listening desperately for the sound of the front door to close and his car to start. The roar of the engine, the glorious sound, slipped through the vents in the bedroom window and I sobbed with relief. He was gone!!

Immediately I threw the covers off my sweaty skin and tore myself out the tangled mess of my dressing gown. The baby was partially crowning and my gods I needed to push. Everything hurt, everything ached, I needed to move but there was no strength left in my body to get up. Hooking a leg over the edge of the mattress I rolled off the bed and slipped down to my knees on the luscious carpet.

With my elbows on the mattress and my face buried against the sheets, my knees widened on the floor and my hips sank downwards as I pushed with everything that I had. Burning fiery pressure erupted between my thighs and I growled through the excruciating pain, pushing and pushing and pushing. I couldn’t take it anymore, this baby had to get out. My entire body trembled as the baby stretched me open, but I kept going push after push and with a primal grunt the head finally slipped out. Relief flooded through me as the pressure eased. Panting, desperate for air, I was barely aware of any of my other senses; of the now-damp carpet under my knees, or the sound of the engine returning to our driveway, or the creek of the bedroom door being opened.

“Honey?… I errr… I forgot my phone and then I heard you scream. What’s… what’s going on?” Daniel asked, frozen in shock at the door.

“…um… I erm…” I stuttered, speechless and naked beside the bed, an illegitimate baby hanging between my legs. “I umm…I— I— ohhhh… oh I need to push….!!!” Before I could think of an explanation my body was bearing down once more, birthing my husband’s best friend’s baby right beside our marital bed.

#answered asks #my writing #birth kink #birth denial #birth fic #inconvenient birth #birth rp #birth fiction #birth prompts #tw: vomit #tw: cheating

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jayflrt · 6 months ago

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𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝟕𝟖𝟔 40. pledge week

content warnings: hazing (for those who don't know, hazing refers to initiation "rituals" that can be humiliating, degrading, and potentially dangerous. hazing can be physical, mental, or psychological; it can happen not only in fraternities and sororities but also sports teams and social or professional organizations). also they steal a goat (don't do this)

JAY WAS FAST ASLEEP FOR THE EIGHT HOURS ON THE PLANE BACK TO CONNECTICUT, WHICH WAS ALSO A GREAT EXCUSE TO KEEP HIMSELF FAR AWAY FROM YOU.

He had you on his thigh only hours prior to the flight, and he could barely meet anyone's eyes while he spent the entire time brooding at the terminal. No one seemed to notice his strange behavior, though; most people were yawning and rubbing their eyes from the hectic weekend.

Vivid flashes of your face kept popping up in his head whenever he let his mind wander. Jay desperately tried to steer his head to think about more important matters—the mission, for one—but all he could recall was how you moaned his name in a way that set his nerves on fire.

It was a mistake. He wasn't acting responsibly at all about this, and Jay was so disappointed in himself that he couldn't bring himself to tell his friends about what had happened.

If only he didn't let his emotions get in the way of his work.

That matter aside, Jay had been far too distracted this weekend. He was getting so carried away with the glitz and glam of the trip that he had completely forgotten that he was supposed to talk to Chaewon more. She was your roommate, for Christ's sake; it should've been easy for him to strike up a conversation.

But then there was some resistance starting to build up. He didn't want to do this anymore, and he knew that for sure after he had walked away from your hotel room. Even if Jay had to leave Yale forever and never see you again, he would rather do that over continuing with an investigation that would inevitably hurt you.

It wasn't like he had any choice, though—not when Unknown knew the ugliest truth about him that Jay hadn't even told his closest friends about.

He woke up to the overhead announcement about the plane landing. It must have been the early hours of the morning still, and Jay was dreading this part the most. Jennie told them that they would head straight to the Athenaeum first and foremost. She didn't elaborate, but Jay glanced over at Sunghoon, who raised his brows with a grim look on his face, as if to say, We're screwed.

"We're getting hazed to hell and back," muttered Heeseung, who had been standing next to him with two suitcases that he didn't bring along on the way to Monaco.

It took around two hours for everyone to regroup at the Order's house. They had to wait an extra thirty minutes for Giselle, who had been left behind again, to get an Uber from the airport. Jay could hardly wrap his head around the fact that he was in a completely different continent just the other day. Having to go back to school was jarring, even though he appeared to be skipping his afternoon classes today.

They were all gathered in the dark basement with only Jennie standing in front of them. She had them all line up against the wall in order of how everyone's names were listed on the official announcement.

You happened to be first, and Jay was only a few people away from you. He noticed that you sent him a few cautionary glances, but he kept his gaze down, his heart thundering just from the sight of you.

"Alright, you've all had your fun now," Jennie said in a sterner voice than usual, "so let's just get right into it."

The remaining fourteen members filed into the basement in black robes and white masks with faces molded to look like Greek statues. Jennie kicked a box that was set down in front of her; Jay initially thought it was empty, but upon closer inspection, he saw several pins with the emblem of a golden owl.

One-by-one, each Order member took a badge each. Their hoods were up, so Jay had a hard time telling who was who, but he quickly realized that Jeonghan was the one standing right in front of him.

Jennie went around handing each pledge a candle. She helped you light your candle, and then instructed everyone else to help each other light their candles. You shared your fire with Yeonjun, who shared his with Giselle, who shared hers with Jay, and so on.

"I'm going to recite our society's oath, and you guys are going to repeat after me," Jennie said once all of the candles were lit, and she started:

"In the presence of the unseen and the holders of ancient wisdom,

"I—say your name—commit to pursuing the answers from our universe with an undying thirst for knowledge,

"recognizing that the quest for truth is eternal;

"cherishing and valuing the sacred bond of brotherhood in our delegation of fifteen;

"and upholding the principles of what the Order of Kryptos stands for—integrity, unity, and discretion.

"With this oath, I pledge myself as a new member of the Order and devote myself to a lifetime pursuit of knowledge and success."

In broken harmony, the fifteen of them repeated after each of Jennie's pauses, mostly getting all the words she was saying and occasionally falling apart. Everyone was far too jet-lagged to even think straight, let alone recite an oath in a dark basement.

After they were finished, everyone wore sheepish grins and crooked smiles once the older members started clapping for them. Jay, on the other hand, was much too clueless about what was going on. Most of the people here knew of these situations through friends or family who had experienced similar rituals, but Jay didn't grow up in such an environment.

The older members stepped forward and fixed the badge with the owl emblem over their hearts. Jeonghan pinned Jay's shirt rather quickly while Wonwoo seemed to be taking forever to stab his badge through Giselle's coat. Jay peered over at you, and he couldn't help but frown a bit as he watched Sungjin place the badge on your shirt.

"Alright, you guys can go now," Jennie said. She was behind everyone, appearing to get something out of her bag while the rest of the members were filing back out. All of them had given the pledges cheers of support and good luck, but Jay had a bad feeling about all of this. "Let's sit down and go over Initiation Week together; last year we had someone pass out while they were standing."

Jay and Heeseung, with four people between them, craned their necks to check on each other's reactions—horrified, to put it simply. Heeseung bent down to sit with his legs crossed almost immediately after. Everyone else followed suit, sitting knee-to-knee where they had lined up.

"For the next week, you guys will be living here together," Jennie said plainly. Jay met several people's eyes and everyone seemed to be thinking the same thing, which was no way in hell. "You'll all sleep here and share that one bathroom in the corner. You can still attend classes, but you should keep your nights free for the next seven days. We'll be having our, uh, usual practices."

Xiaoting raised her hand. "Can we go back to our places to bring our stuff here?"

Jennie approved the idea before continuing, "As pledges, you also have to do whatever the actives want you to do; if an active says they want a coffee, then you need to be there to get them that coffee; if an active wants you up at four in the morning, then you should be awake and ready."

That's so fucking stupid, Jay thought, although he mumbled a "yes" in tune with everyone else.

"You guys need to wear those pins at all times," she continued. "If someone catches you without your pin, then there will be consequences." She then pulled out a thick binder full of papers, setting it down in front of her. "This binder is full of information on our society. All of the writing here is extremely confidential, and you're not allowed to take pictures of anything or repeat anything here to non-members."

"Are we supposed to memorize that?" Sunghoon asked.

Jennie smiled in response. "Oh, good, you're catching on. The theme for tonight is scholarship, so we want you guys to memorize our history, our oath, our motto, and our roster—names, majors, and birthdays—in order. We won't ask for any more than that since initiation is only a week, but you should be ready for any of the actives to ask questions during our... activities."

The fifteen of them, still exhausted from the trip, nodded blankly in response.

She went on, "And, most importantly, remember that you can't speak a word of anything that happens to someone outside of the Order or your pledge class. By becoming a new member, you must promise to maintain full confidentiality."

Then, she had everyone sign several forms pertained to joining the Order. The confidentiality form, which Jennie made everyone read aloud, sounded rather threatening in fine print. The punishments ranged from meetings with the society to being blacklisted from every organization on campus.

They were then allowed to head back to their apartments to freshen up and pack anything they needed for the next week. Jennie told them they needed to be back at 8 p.m. for their first event.

Although Jay hardly had a clue of what being hazed would be like, he made sure to prepare himself for this turn of events. After some conversations with Heeseung and a deep-dive into Reddit threads, Jay had a suspicion that something like this would happen. He couldn't say he was glad he was right, but he was relieved that he had separate phones and laptops for his detective work. He would lock those up in his apartment, and then he would only take the phone and laptop he used for school.

Jay made sure to inform his client of the situation he was in. He was very transparent about what was going on; after all, he needed to ensure his client that he was taking his work seriously, and this was something that was crucial for the mission.

He also had to tell his friend group about what was going on. Jay was sure Jake, Jungwon, and Riki would lose their minds if they didn't hear from their friend for an entire week. He figured he could simply go without telling his parents, too, but Jay ended up giving his mother a call before he packed for the week.

"What do you think they're gonna make us do tonight?" Heeseung asked. The two of them were walking to the Order's house together (after Jennie specifically instructed neither of them to bring their cars). It was already dark outside because Jay had to wait until Heeseung's class ended. "I bet this is all fun and games for Yeonjun. He's already been hazed by the baseball team."

"The baseball team hazes?"

"Yeah—beer-boxing, eating a goldfish, the polar plunge—all that fun stuff."

Jay had no idea what any of those entailed, but he hoped and prayed that Heeseung meant the snack that smiled back.

After they arrived at the house, the fifteen pledges were lounging in the basement, passing the time by doing homework or talking to each other while Jennie was thirty minutes late. Everyone was speculating what was going on because there seemed to be a lot of noise upstairs. Jay caught your eye across the room and could tell that you wanted to talk to him, but he begrudingly turned his attention back to whatever Yeonjun and Sunghoon were going on about.

When Jennie finally arrived, the door handle slammed against the wall and the room fell into silence almost immediately. A few nervous murmurs were shared as she descended the staircase and stood in front of them.

"The Order doesn't wanna see you guys yet," she said bluntly. "Maybe later tonight."

Everyone was startled, and you were the first to clear your throat and start, "Oh... so should we—"

"We're going out for dinner, but the house needs cleaning. There's cleaning supplies in one of the closets upstairs and trash bags under the sink. Make sure it's done before we're back." She gave the mortified juniors a pleasant smile before adding, "Oh, and you're only allowed to sleep tonight if you get a secret from everyone here by the time we're home."

Everyone was silent for the first few minutes of Jennie disappearing upstairs. Then came the complaints.

"We have to clean?" Xiaoting whined. "But they already have someone doing it for them!"

"How bad can it be?" Eunseok asked. "It didn't seem like it was messy when we got here. None of them seem like they'd be messy people."

"Jennie was thirty minutes late, remember?" Sunoo offered. "They must've been making it messy on purpose while we were waiting down here."

There was a collective sigh of disappointment. Jay, on the other hand, couldn't be happier. He was under the impression that he would be doing grueling tasks or physical punishments, but cleaning wasn't a big deal. As for the secret part, he was sure he could come up with a good enough lie.

"Should we clean first and then regroup after?" Ryujin suggested with a gleam in her eyes. "I think it'd be fun doing the secret sharing one together."

There were murmurs of approval throughout the circle, and then Chaewon said, "Then we should get started now."

To everyone's dismay, Sunoo was right. After they heard the distant chatter and giggles from the seniors' pregame fade out after the door slammed shut, Jay headed upstairs with Chenle to check on the state of the house. He felt deeply sorry to disappoint everyone with the news that the house was, indeed, a mess.

Not just a mess, though. It looked as if it was suffering from the aftermath of a party. There were solo cups littering the ground, tissue paper everywhere, and most things had been knocked off the shelves and cabinets.

They split into teams to tackle each area of the house. Jay and Giselle were assigned to the kitchen where they discovered they had to throw out most of the expired food. Giselle was insistent on keeping everything back where they seemed to belong, but Jay couldn't see the point of keeping inedible food lying around. He figured that Giselle had a better idea of this activity than he did, though, so Jay trusted her gut feeling.

Afterward, the fifteen of them gathered back in the basement. You and Changmin made a trip back upstairs to put the rest of the cleaning supplies away while Jay finally felt the exhaustion start to settle in.

"Do we know when they're coming back?" Changmin asked, nearly flinching when you opened the door to the basement. "Jesus, Y/N, I thought you were Jennie."

"Not Jennie," you affirmed, "but she could get here soon. There's no way any restaurants around here are still open this late."

"Well, then we need to come up with something now," Heeseung said. "I'd like to get some sleep tonight."

"Secrets..." Yeonjun hummed as he pondered. "I don't know. I don't feel like I have any good ones."

You snorted. "Yeah, dude, you're basically an open book."

"There was the syphilis incident," Giselle offered.

"Yuna took care of that one, didn't she?" Yeonjun grimaced before leaning back on his elbows. "I'm sure everyone here knows I tried selling coke to a professor, too."

"We did not know that," Yizhuo said.

"Oh," said Yeonjun, pleasantly surprised, "well, that's my secret, then."

Everyone started taking turns from there, thinking in silence for a few moments before springing up to share their secret. Jay didn't think people were going to get too deep, but the amount of oversharing made him nervous. How was he supposed to come up with something that could compare to any of their secrets? A prince from a foreign country paid for a VIP booth and bottle service for Chaewon; Xiaoting lost her virginity during one of Cara Delevingne's Fourth of July parties; Eunseok accidentally crashed four cars in high school; Karina's parents didn't know about her girlfriend; Ryujin slept with a lead singer from a rock band after meeting him backstage; and Giselle begrudgingly admitted that she once bought sneakers that cost nearly forty thousand to impress Jung Sungchan, who apparently didn't pay any attention to them.

Sunghoon, on the other hand, decided to keep his tame. So tame that Jay wasn't quite sure whether it was real or not. Even you and Sunoo looked slightly uncomfortable with the whole activity once the spotlight was on them. Jay didn't let your shifting eyes before Sunoo's turn go unnoticed.

The group started getting anxious about time after Heeseung spent ten minutes reiterating how he blacked out on the deck of a cruise ship. Thankfully, only Chenle and Jay were left to share.

"My turn now?" Jay asked after Chenle confessed to buying over thirty replacements for his AirPods from an Apple vending machine. "I feel like I don't have any interesting secrets."

"Wait!" Heeseung blurted out excitedly. "You should tell them about that one night we went to the bars and passed out in a bush. Remember? Last quarter—right before Dead Week—"

"Oh, no, we all know about that," Ryujin said quickly, waving down the idea. "Yeonjun made sure everyone and their mom saw that picture."

Xiaoting grinned. "Yeah, we need something good for you, Jay. You've gotta have stories from Seattle."

He wasn't sure how to tell them that his life was relatively boring. All the exciting bits that they would have loved to hear were the ones he couldn't tell them about.

But when Jay thought about his one and only secret that he swore to never tell anyone about, his mouth started to go dry. He couldn't think about anything but the way he felt like tar was spilling into his throat, all thick and suffocating. His head started to spin, and he wasn't quite sure how many minutes of silence he had lapsed into. All he knew was that a room full of people were gawking at him while he could hardly speak.

Say something, he told himself, anything!

"I..." Beads of sweat were running down his back; it was no help that there was hardly any proper air circulation in the basement. "I, uh..."

"Wait," you spoke up loudly, looking at Jay earnestly like you were hoping he would play along. "You never told me the whole story but remember that thing with Jake? The car?"

Clearly, you were grasping at straws for some way to get Jay out of the hole he had dug himself in, but your knowledge of Jay's hometown friends was convincing enough for the rest. They all leaned in closer at the mention of the car, which you spouted out off the top of your head, but it thankfully gave Jay enough time to come back to his senses and start lying smoothly.

"Oh, yeah... I didn't know if that was a good enough secret." He smiled sheepishly before turning to the rest of the group. "I, uh, might have stolen a car with my friend, Jake, when we were fourteen. It was his dad's car, but we made it, like, thirty miles before we got caught."

Amidst the chorus of laughter and outbursts from others about how Jay didn't seem like the time to steal a car (he wasn't), Kim Chaewon let out a giggle that sounded rather forced.

"I thought you were gonna say that you and Y/N fucked during our last night in Monaco," she said in a sugary sweet voice.

The basement went pin-drop silent.

Something was bubbling up in Jay's chest, and he wasn't sure if it was anger or plain exasperation. He looked at you first, wondering if there had been some sort of miscommunication between the two girls, but you looked just as outraged at the declaration. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Yeonjun whispering something in Karina's ear, and Sunghoon's hand was tightly curled into a fist.

Amusement twitched at the corners of Jay's lips and he fixed Chaewon with a confused look. "What? Where did you hear that from?"

"I just figured." She shrugged. "You two were the only ones who didn't go out for drinks with us."

"That doesn't mean we fucked!" you exclaimed.

Honestly, Jay wouldn't have been as pissed about the question if he hadn't been part of the group that helped break Chaewon out of jail the night before. This was how the favor was being returned? He should've just informed the embassy about her detainment if she was going to make absurd speculations about him.

"No, I was just wondering," Chaewon complained, reaching over and fussing with your hand when she saw how upset you looked. "You two got so defensive, though."

"Let's just not make baseless assumptions about each other," Sunghoon chimed in, and Jay could sense the venom in his tone as he spoke.

"Yeah, Jay told me he was tired," Sunoo lied coolly, though he gave Jay an odd look, as if he was curious himself. Jay was thankful that his friends were getting him out of such an uncomfortable situation, but he hated that this was being made known to their entire class now. "He wasn't even awake when we got back from dinner."

"Ah." Chaewon hummed, a simpering smile playing on her lips. "My bad, then."

"Friendship, guys," Yizhuo said lightheartedly, nodding along to her own words. "Men and women can be friends without sexual relations. Jay and Y/N are living proof."

Considering you were moaning his name the day before, Jay wasn't exactly sure the two of you were the right candidates for that one. He appreciated Yizhuo's support, though.

Yeonjun held up the Lysol cleaning spray he forgot to put away in solidarity. "To friendship!"

"To friendship," the rest of them parroted in broken unison.

After Eunseok changed the topic to Jay's heart supposedly only belonging to Heeseung (which stirred up an entire breakdown and analysis from the girls), almost everyone had acted like the misunderstand with Chaewon hadn't happened. Jay met your eyes across the circle and swallowed hard when you were the one to turn away first.

Then, they all fell silent upon hearing the front door open upstairs. Chenle clung onto Jay's bicep with trepidation hanging in his brows.

For a while, they overheard the Order talking amongst themselves in complete silence, hoping to catch them hinting at something about their seven-day process. However, they only seemed to be talking about something funny that Jeonghan did before all of them went quiet, too. Jay exchanged a wary look with Chenle.

Jennie opened the door and walked down the stairs to the basement after a couple of minutes. Everyone straightened up and turned their attention to her.

"They still don't want to see you," she said, folding her arms across her chest. "Did you guys have a good talk?"

"Yep," Giselle spoke up. "We learned maybe a little too much about each other."

She clasped her hands together. "Good! You guys can sleep now, but make sure to keep your ringers on. You never know if anyone's gonna need you."

Jay raised a brow. It couldn't be that easy. She wasn't even going to ask them about each other's secrets? There had to be a catch.

Before anyone had time to grouch, the door swung open again and Wonwoo came downstairs with several bluetooth speakers. He placed one in each corner of the basement as Jennie continued to address the group.

"Uh, so what about the cleaning?" Karina asked. "Was that all good?"

"I guess we'll find out," was the anxiety-inducing response they received instead. "Get some sleep. You guys must be exhausted from the trip still."

Although her words were genuine, Jennie didn't sound sincere in the slightest. Jay was already dreading what the night would bring. Would they call them out and make them run errands? Start making them drink until they puked everything out? Hit them with paddles?

When Jennie and Wonwoo walked back upstairs together, everyone let out a collective, weary sigh.

"I think we should have someone on stand-by in case anyone calls one of us," Giselle suggested. "We can take turns. There's fifteen of us, so we can rotate through, like, two-hour shifts."

"Then we should leave all of our phones on the table," you said. "Whoever's on shift should just pick up the first one that rings."

Everyone was in agreement of the plan. They decided to go in order of where they stood when lined up, so you were first to stay awake. After everyone had gotten ready for bed and laid out their sleeping bags on the floor, they turned off the lights and settled in for the night. The only light in the room was from the glow of your phone screen, but you did your best to make sure it wasn't bothering anyone.

About ten minutes in, when Jay was starting to feel the creeping hands of sleep seize him, a song started playing loudly—unbearable in his ears.

Doses and Mimosas by Cherub. Usually a great listening experience, but Jay felt like clawing his ear drums out right now.

"Y/N, please turn that shit off," Yeonjun called out over the noise. "I literally can't sleep like this."

"Dude, it's not me," you replied. "It's coming from the speakers."

Another collective sound from the fifteen of them; this time, it was a groan. Perhaps all that bonding they did tonight really did pay off.

"It could be worse," Heeseung tried. "At least it's a good song."

No one ended up getting any decent sleep.

Moreover, Heeseung's short-lived optimism pissed Giselle off so much that she ended up taking out her frustration on him by whacking him repeatedly with her pillow.

The worst part of it all was that they received zero calls from the older members, so they were clearly just being toyed with. Jay was sure he would bleed from his ears if he heard Doses and Mimosas one more time. At some point during the night, it got to the point where Sunghoon tried to take the speakers and leave them outside the basement door, only to find out that they had been locked inside. They wound up wrapping several blankets around the four speakers until the music was slightly more muffled.

Jay decided he would attend all of his Tuesday classes because he wanted to spend as little time at the Order's house as possible. He and Eunseok spent virtually the entire day together, only separating when they had to go to class. Someone from the Order must have seen them together because Jay received a text that he and Eunseok needed to get Joshua a bagel.

When they arrived at the house later that night, Giselle had her nose deep in her laptop while she typed away furiously, and everyone else was trying to get some rest in before tonight's activity began.

Jay spotted you curled up in your sleeping bag, your hair falling in your face. Since Sunoo was nearby, typing away on his laptop where his sleeping bag and luggage were stationed, Jay went over to talk to him, asking about his classes and schoolwork while his eyes swiftly drifted to your figure whenever he got an opportunity. During a period of silence between the two, Jay reached over to push your hair out of your face. As soon as his hand neared your forehead, however, the door swung open and he pulled back in an instant.

The fifteen of them scrambled to line up in order. Heeseung had to keep nudging Yizhuo to keep her from nodding off.

"So, there's a few conditions for tonight's activity," Jennie started. "The Order wasn't very impressed with your work yesterday, so tonight's activity is sort of a... scavenger hunt, I'd say? You're gonna be working in pairs of twos and threes—some Order members are gonna take your group to a room in the house, or you might have to go somewhere a little farther off. All you have to do is work together to find whatever it is that you're asking to look for."

Jay saw this coming. He knew that there would be some sort of scavenger hunt at some point. Kryptos was Greek for hidden, after all, so it was only fitting.

Jennie had members of the Order walk downstairs to select two pledges for the activity. After their phones were taken, they disappeared upstairs. Somewhere in the middle, Jeonghan entered the basement alongside Minghao, and Jay had a bad feeling that he was going to be selected.

But, oh, if only that was the extent of his misfortune.

He tried not to pull a face when Jeonghan called for him, of course, but Jay didn't expect for Minghao to call for you, of all people.

He gave Xiaoting his seat, so what was this? Honestly, it didn't matter who chose who, but Jay was sure this was the most disastrous pairing they could have gone for.

With little instructions, Jeonghan and Minghao led the two down the hallway. They made light conversation with each other, laughing at the occasional joke, but you and Jay were utterly silent. If the Order didn't kill him this week, then the tension between you two certainly would. It was strange that he hadn't talked to you much despite sleeping under the same roof, but keeping some distance was for the best. If he got any closer after what happened in Monaco, who knows what would happen.

When they reached a room at the end of the hallway, Jay was surprised to see that Minghao and Jeonghan's faces had turned stony and impassive.

Jeonghan, unsmiling, started, "Alright, recruits—"

"Recruits?" Minghao sneered. "Why would you call them recruits?"

"We recruited them, so they're recruits. It's PEMDAS, Hao."

"Recruits makes it sound like we're training them for the military or—"

"Some of us actually have to go to the military, you insensitive bitch."

"You're not even going to the military, dude. You're going to law school."

"That's basically the military with a six-figure debt."

"Okay, we're getting so off-topic right now." Minghao huffed. "Do you have the handcuffs?"

"Handcuffs?" asked Jay, who was having a much better time when they were bantering and not talking about their activity. "You're handcuffing us?"

"Yeah, but don't get up to any funny business in there," Jeonghan said, pulling out a pair of handcuffs that had your eyes practically bugging out of your skull. If he had a paperclip on him, Jay could probably undo the latch within a few minutes, but he knew that it would be troublesome to explain where he picked that up from. "This is a strictly professional activity; don't get kinky."

Minghao was pinching the bridge of his nose. "I doubt they were even thinking about that."

"You don't know that."

"Are you even supposed to be talking to us this much?" you asked.

Jeonghan and Minghao exchanged a look.

"Probably not," they replied in unison with Jeonghan sounding flippant and Minghao bordering on worry.

"Anyway, your task is to find a book for us in our library," Minghao started, "but we won't tell you what book it is."

Jay frowned. "Then how're we supposed to find it?"

Jeonghan took on a more serious tone when he said, "I'll give you one hint for the code: The discrepancy is intentional."

Jay had no clue what that was supposed to mean. He was better off not asking for help.

"What if we get it wrong?"

"Jennie will decide what happens to you after that."

"Also," Jeonghan continued, holding out a bottle of lychee-flavored soju, "you two have to finish this before we handcuff you."

Jay looked from the bottle, to Jeonghan, to Minghao, and then back to the bottle.

"Hell no," he retorted.

There was no possible way he would be able to think properly after downing half a bottle of soju. Jay was well aware that he needed as much brain power as possible if he wanted to figure out that hint Jeonghan gave him.

His senior laughed, taking the initiative to unscrew the cap before he held out the open bottle in Jay's direction again. "Unfortunately, you don't have a choice." When Jay still refused to take it from him, Jeonghan grimaced in a just-do-it sort of way. "Dude, the other pledges are drinking Hennessy. You should actually be thanking us for getting you lychee soju."

Jeonghan simply didn't know the magnitude of the situation. The last time you and Jay got drunk together, it ended with the two of you falling asleep with your limbs entangled. Jay wasn't particularly enthusiastic about repeating history.

"Why don't you go first?" Jay offered, gesturing for you to take the bottle. "I'll drink whatever you can't finish."

"What a gentleman," Jeonghan gushed, nodding appreciatively as he handed the soju bottle to you.

"Yeah, the complete opposite of you," Minghao spat. "You made me drink the entire bottle last year!"

"And you were fine."

"I blacked out and woke up in the middle of a lake."

This time, you tried handing the soju bottle back to Jeonghan, who refused to take it back from you. There was unmistakable fear in yours and Jay's eyes, and Jay was trying to visualize the distance from the Order's house to the nearest lake.

"What Minghao meant to say was that he woke up on one of those inflatable mattresses in the middle of a lake," Jeonghan clarified.

"That doesn't make it any better," Jay deadpanned.

"It was perfectly safe. They even gave him a life jacket."

"You guys aren't doing any of that, don't worry," Minghao added quickly with a dismissive wave of his hand. "I promise that you'll only have to stay in the library."

Jeonghan sounded impatient when he said, "Now drink."

You reluctantly held the bottle up to your lips and started chugging the liquor down without missing a beat. Jay could see bubbles rise to the top, and he was almost worried that you would finish the bottle in one go if no one stopped you. When you handed the bottle off to Jay, he could see that there was a little over half left. Before you could even wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, Jay started downing the rest of the contents. When the last few drops landed on his tongue, he almost felt like his body was in autopilot.

Before he knew it, the empty bottle was taken away from him and Minghao had handcuffed you and Jay together. His left wrist was linked to your right one, and albeit uncomfortable, he was more focused on making sure his fingers didn't brush against yours.

"Good luck in there. We'll check in every hour," Jeonghan said. He opened the door to the dark room where Jay could barely make out the silhouettes of the bookshelves. Before he closed it, he dropped something cool and solid in Jay's palm; it felt like metal when his fingers closed around it. "You're gonna need that, by the way."

"Uh, the lights aren't turning"—before you could finish, Jeonghan and Minghao slammed the door shut—"on."

"Well," Jay started with a heavy sigh, "fuck."

You felt along the wall for a moment before flicking the light switch on and off over and over again before accepting that the lights weren't going to turn on. They must have cut the power before starting, which must have been to replicate how most other pledges were toughing out their tasks outside.

Before Jay could even think about the task at hand, there was something that had been on his mind for the entire day, and he was pretty sure it was the reason why he still felt so awkward around you.

He started, "What did you tell Chae—"

"Nothing—absolutely nothing about that night," you cut in fiercely. It had clearly been bothering you, too. Jay remembered that you and Chaewon grew a little closer during Monaco; you must have felt just as betrayed about the ordeal. "You know I wouldn't do that."

He sighed. It was a clear misstep on his part. Obviously people would draw all sorts of conclusion when you both were the only ones sitting out of a fun event to stay in the hotel. If Jay had known better, he would've just gone along with the rest of the group to avoid suspicion.

"I believe you," he said sincerely, "but what she did was fucked up."

You frowned. "Yeah, I don't know why she did that. She apologized to me this morning, but it still feels weird. Karina thinks she's being fake."

Jay wasn't one to talk about fake people, so he kept his mouth shut.

"You've been ignoring me," you said, averting your eyes.

"I haven't."

"You have. You ignored me at the airport, you ignored me when we landed, and you ignored me yesterday. You think I wouldn't notice?" When Jay didn't respond, you pressed on, "I can handle you not wanting to get into a relationship or whatever—mind you, I've been led on in my own relationship before—but I thought we were at least friends. Are we not?"

"We are, it's just..." Jay trailed off, sighing out of frustration.

He knew it was his own immaturity pushing you away. He knew he was the one who set the rules, but it was too difficult for him to pretend like nothing had happened. Even now, as you were fuming at him, he could only think of how pretty you looked.

Jay didn't know how to go about this. Getting closer to you was hurting you; staying away from you was hurting you. What the hell was he even supposed to do?

"It's just what?"

He couldn't let you know how he truly felt, otherwise he would be letting you in deeper than he'd let anyone else in. Jay had to push it down—push all the feelings and insecurities beneath the sand—and pretend like he was content with friendship.

"It's nothing," he said, but you didn't seem quite satisfied with that answer. "I just didn't know how you'd feel after that night."

"That's for me to decide," you told him. "You don't get to guess how I feel and act on that."

He looked down. "I know, I'm sorry."

"It's fine, just... don't act like I'm invisible. I don't want things to be awkward between us."

"No, yeah, of course not. We're cool."

You decided to change the topic to the task at hand and ask, "Anyway, what are we even supposed to find? And what did Jeonghan give you?"

Jay turned the object around in his right hand before realizing what the grooves on the top were for. He flicked his thumb across it until he saw sparks, and then he did it more forcefully until a small fire was lit.

"Very generous of them," he said dryly. "I think this is supposed to make up for them cutting the lights."

You tried walking in the opposite direction of Jay, which ended up making you both wince from the pinch of the handcuffs. Jay grabbed your forearm with his free hand and pulled you back to his side, which was probably the only comfortable way they could be situated.

Maybe it was the alcohol starting to make your limbs feel like jelly, but Jay had to grab your shoulder to hold you upright when you nearly stumbled into him. He was starting to wish he and Eunseok got a bagel for themselves because he hadn't eaten enough to absorb the soju.

Jay lit the flame again and held up the flickering light to illuminate part of the bookshelf in front of them. Just as he thought, all of the books were ordered alphabetically by author name, so all they needed to do was figure out the title. But how were they supposed to do that without any clues? Well, technically they had Jeonghan's hint, but Jay had no idea what that meant. The buzz he felt swimming through his veins wasn't helping his case, either.

"What did Jeonghan say again?" he asked you, frowning.

"The discrepancy is intentional," you answered. "Whatever that means."

"No, before that. He said something, like... something like hint for the clue? Hint for the—"

"Code," you finished for him. "Hint for the code."

"Code? Why the fuck would he say code?"

While you were more focused on trying to riddle out the hint itself, Jay was still stuck on the senior's wording. Jeonghan could have very well left it at 'hint' but he specifically used the word code along with it. That had to be some sort of clue that he just wasn't seeing.

"Do you think it's related to Kryptos?" he asked. Suddenly, the fuzziness in his head started to clear up just enough for him to make reason out of his thought process. Jay couldn't see your face very clearly (which was probably a good thing because being this close to you wasn't good for his heart), but, even in the dark, he could see your eyebrows draw together. "The sculpture outside the CIA headquarters—the encryption. It has to be some sort of book that references Kryptos or has that line that Jeonghan gave us, which makes sense why they chose it. They wanted us to find something related to the Order."

Your voice came out in a breath when you said, "You're literally a genius."

"You don't have to stroke my ego."

"No, I'd actually be fucked if you weren't here." Then, your excitement seemed to deflate. "But do you know any books that reference Kryptos?"

"I don't."

"We'd have to read through this entire library to find it. There's no way we'll find it by morning." You let out a groan. "I wish we had our phones on us."

They sat in silence for a while. Jay thought long and hard about how he was going to go about this. You were right; there was virtually no way for either of you two to get through every book and find the exact one that Jeonghan and Minghao were referring to.

Frustrated, he willed the gears in his head to start spinning. There had to be something he could do. There had to be something he could work with.

Jay used the lighter again to illuminate the area in front of him, nudging you to follow him around the room. Nothing was very promising, however; bookshelf after bookshelf, desks with chairs, and two computers in the corner.

Next to the table with the computers was a utility closet, and the shelves were full of tools and miscellaneous items when he opened it. There was even a skull, which Jay hoped was a Halloween decoration. When he looked through some of the boxes, some of them were full of various hardware equipment that was probably left as a resource for whoever was an engineer.

There was nothing that could help him read through all of the books in the library, though.

But what if he didn't need to do that?

When Jay looked from the monitors to the closet, an idea started stirring in his head. After handing you the lighter, he grabbed one of the boxes of tools and dropped it on the ground with a thud. He did the same with the box of hardware, pulling you down along with him when he moved to sit on the floor.

"What're you doing?" you asked, but, despite your confusion, you sounded like you had confidence in whatever Jay was scheming.

"You're right; this would be way easier with our phones, right?" he started to explain, and his tone had an edge of excitement that only happened whenever he pieced something together. "But we have computers."

"That are... dead," you finished for him, uneasy.

"Right, but what if we created our own power bank? We only need to make it functional to last us ten or fifteen minutes. If we have the right materials, then we should be able to pull it off."

Jay, realizing that you were still holding the flame, turned to look at your expression, and his heart did a pathetic flip when he saw the grin on your face.

"Now you're making me feel useless," you teased.

"You're not useless," he insisted firmly. "Here"—he moved the two boxes so that they were in front of you two—"we can figure out what we need together. We're gonna need a, uh... any battery strong enough to power up a PC, a battery charger, a, uh... lithium ion batteries, and a circuit board for the battery management system."

"Jay," you said, "I have no idea what any of those are supposed to look like."

"No problem, I'll just show you." He picked up an electrical brick that was laying on top of the other equipment. He pressed a button to see that it still had some juice left. "Portable battery charger. Let's just hope it has enough power."

He rummaged through the boxes, eventually finding a slightly-damaged circuit board and a car battery that must have been someone's senior project at some point. Jay nearly celebrated, but they were still missing the lithium batteries.

"Are they that important?" you asked.

"Kind of. They power the CMOS chip on the circuit board here, and I don't know if it'll run properly without it."

"So... they're in the PC."

"Yeah, but we can't just take it out of the—" Jay stopped once he realized what you were getting at. "Oh."

Your eyes lit up. "We have two, so we could just open up the second one. It should be fine since the power's cut."

"Oh, you're perfect," Jay breathed out, trying not to pay much attention to how you bit your lip at his compliment. "Help me move the computers to the ground."

With your help, you two managed to haul them to the ground, and Jay organized the tools on the ground. With your assistance, he had you hold the lighter for him to see as he attempted to pop open the hardware with one hand. This wasn't exactly his area of expertise, but he wasn't useless in the realm of CPU architecture.

After removing the screws from the bottom panel and detaching the piece, Jay used the edge of his screwdriver to pry open the battery pack. He spotted the circular battery fixed to the circuit, and he grinned up at you as he pointed to it.

"We got it."

"Excellent work," you praised. "You should seriously reconsider your major."

Jay didn't reply to that. Although he was a fairly good liar, there was nothing he could say that would make him sound genuinely enthusiastic about economics.

Once they had everything they needed to build their makeshift power bank, Jay got right to work. He requested tool after tool from you, struggling at times to fit the hardware together. Thankfully, he started to get the hang of it once you two had a working system. You followed his instructions flawlessly and acted as Jay's left hand for him, so it became a much smoother process.

Jeonghan and Minghao knocked on the door at the top of every hour, which was supposed to be to check if you two had completed the task, but all it did was stress Jay out even more. Moreover, without a proper sense of time, the knocks came out of nowhere—so loud and jarring that Jay caught himself from letting his eyelids droop several times.

"I feel so useless," you complained.

"You're not useless," Jay replied, although he could hardly spare you a glance as he was completely focused on the task at hand. "Hold the lighter a little closer please—thanks."

"I'll just sit here and look pretty."

"You're always pretty."

This time, he made sure not to look at you because he knew that the expression on your face would make him lose whatever sanity he had left.

After a few hours of trial and error—or possibly longer, considering they had no idea what time it was—you and Jay finally seemed to have a functional power bank.

"Moment of truth," he muttered before turning on the power button.

The light glowed blue.

"Yes!" you cheered, letting the fire from the lighter die once the screen glowed white in both your faces. "You did it!"

"We did it," he corrected. A knot in his chest undid itself, and Jay could finally feel the tension letting up. "All we have to do is just find that stupid quote."

It turned out that it wasn't a quote. They typed it out verbatim, and after scrolling through several pages, you pointed out something promising.

"Seriously? It was The Da Vinci Code?" He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms and sighed. "Okay, good, at least we got something."

"Look! It says here that the coordinates on the back cover is a reference to the coordinates in one of the encryptions on the Kryptos sculpture," you said excitedly. "The degree digit was off by one, and when they asked the author about it, he said the discrepancy is intentional. This is it!"

"God, Y/N, I could kiss you right now."

"You could," you murmured shyly.

"Wait, no, I'm not kissing—you know what, I'm kissing your cheek." He leaned in and planted a chaste kiss on your cheek, getting a sappy smile out of you. "There. Now let's find that stupid book."

Thankfully, Dan Brown wasn't hard to find. You pulled his novel from its spot on the bookshelf, stifling a muffled cry of joy with the palm of your hand, nearly jumping up and down from how relieved you were.

"How long has it been since the last time Jeonghan and Minghao checked in on us?" Jay asked.

"Uh, actually—" You flinched, interrupted by the rapping at the door. "Perfect timing."

"We're done!" he called back this time (which felt great to say after all of the "we need more time" requests), and the two seniors went silent for several minutes on end before he heard the door creak open slowly.

"Seriously?" Jeonghan asked, peeking through the crack in the door. "You found the book already? It's only, like, three."

"In the morning?" you asked, horrified.

"No, three in the afternoon," Jeonghan returned, voice laced with sarcasm. "I thought you guys were gonna need the whole night. How did you guys even find it? We thought we made it nearly impossible." He fully opened the door at this point, and his and Minghao's eyes landed on the mess of hardware laying on the floor. Jeonghan looked concerned for a moment before saying, "I know you guys are having a hard time, but you can just talk to us about how the hazing's affecting you instead of breaking our equipment."

"Uh..." Jay looked back over his shoulder. "I can fix that."

"He wasn't breaking anything," you defended him with a might that Jay didn't even have for himself. "It was, like, the most insanely genius thing I've ever seen. He made his own power bank out of whatever was in the closet."

Minghao raised his brows, impressed. "Actually?"

You nodded fervently. Jeonghan folded his arms across his chest and looked from you two, to the hardware on the floor, and then to Jay again.

Jay flushed under the weight over your praise. "It wasn't that big of a deal. I can clean it up now."

Instead, Minghao held out his hand, demanding, "Book."

You handed over the book. Minghao and Jeonghan looked at it with an unreadable expression on both of their faces. For a moment, Jay was afraid that they did all of this for nothing, but then Jeonghan cleared his throat.

"You two are good to head back downstairs," he said. "Don't worry about cleaning up; we need to replace those computers, anyway."

You and Jay held up your wrists that were still linked together, and he asked, "Can you free us?"

"Oh, right."

After you and Jay were finally separated, you both were permitted to go back downstairs to the basement and get some rest. Jay rubbed his sore wrist, but he was too tired to process the pain and irritation.

Jennie was sitting against the wall downstairs, knees pulled to her chest. She had a clipboard at her side and looked as if she had been fighting the urge to doze off.

"Oh, you guys made it!" She gave you both small, celebratory claps that were quiet enough to not wake the others who were sleeping. "You're the third group to finish. You can go wash up and sleep now."

Jay didn't have the energy to inquire about where everyone else was, and it didn't seem like you were either. Karina, Eunseok, Sunoo, Chenle, and Changmin were in their sleeping bags, sleeping soundly. Jay wondered what they had to do, but he was sure everyone would be talking about their tasks tomorrow.

Jay let you use the bathroom first, but he was exhausted beyond belief. His sleeping bag felt like a bed for royalty once he finally laid down. Normally, he needed a few minutes to unwind before he could fall asleep, but his eyes felt heavy as soon as he laid his head on his pillow.

Sometime later, Jay opened his eyes, still groggy and half-asleep, to see Heeseung and Giselle talking to Jennie. They must have just returned as they were both drenched and shivering. He looked around to see that everyone else was tucked in their sleeping bags and fast asleep, so they must have been the last group to return.

Heeseung allowed Giselle to use the bathroom first and trudged over to his sleeping bag, which was right next to Jay's, with a scowl on his face.

Jay smirked at him. "Lake?"

"Lake," Heeseung confirmed with an incomprehensible grumble, which Jay figured was just a string of curses.

"You swam? After drinking?"

"We drank a little, but we dumped most of it out while they weren't looking," he said. "They made us swim to find a fucking pool noodle in the dark, and Little Miss Swim Team told me to go far out while she looked around the shallow water!"

"To be fair, she was in the swim team in, like, middle school."

"Yeah? Well, I learned how to swim today."

"You couldn't swim? Did you even tell her that?"

"No, dude, I was so embarrassed. I just waited for my survival instincts to kick in."

"You could've died!" Jay whispered harshly.

"Yeah, or worse," Heeseung replied grimly, "failed."

Jay was about to tell Heeseung that his priorities seemed to be very out of order, but then Doses and Mimosas started blasting through the speakers that had been moved to the corner of the basement. Several people started waking up and groaning out of frustration.

Heeseung let his head hang, defeated. "I should've just drowned."

Jay wasn't quite sure if the next several days of pledging were easier, or if he had just gotten used to the hazing after the past two days. He also had a feeling that his sleep deprivation was keeping him from processing how stressful and grueling the entire process was.

Wednesday seemed to be more of a professional event. Jennie told them in the morning that they were supposed to complete and prepare a slideshow about their future aspirations and career paths to present to the Order at 8:00 p.m. sharp.

Throughout the school day, Jay and Sunoo were bossed around by several members; Sungjin had them bring him a coffee (which he didn't like the taste of, so he sent them back to fetch another), Seulgi asked them to attend the gardening club's meeting in her place (where Sunoo kept sneezing the entire time because of his allergies), and Taeyong kindly requested a calculator to use during his calculus exam (which felt less like hazing and more like Taeyong simply being forgetful).

Somehow, they managed to finish their slideshow in the time that they were running around for the members. During that night's event, Sungjin took the reigns and had Jennie sit off to the side while he picked on pledges at random to present.

Everyone was so tired that they were hardly paying attention to each other's presentations, but when the projector displayed Sunghoon's slides, which had a picture of Park Pharmaceuticals, the atmosphere grew incredibly tense. Most of the pledges were looking away or ducking their heads to pretend like they weren't witnessing the two brothers feuding.

After Sunghoon gave his presentation, elaborating greatly on how qualified he was for the role, he received polite applause and uncomfortable coughs from everyone. Sungjin plastered on a mocking smile and clapped rather loudly, waving him off to move on to the next person.

"I'm sure the future of Park Pharmaceuticals will be in great hands," Sungjin said at the end, giving Sunghoon a knowing smile, to which he raised a brow at.

When Jay gave his presentation, he detailed how he was unsure of where he could fit in, but he knew that he wanted to help people, so he indulged in a role as a healthcare consultant to develop strategies that improved patient care and reduced financial burdens. While this was a noble reason, it wasn't exactly what Jay actually wanted to do, but since he knew that the Order could potentially help him get placed in an internship with Mercy Health to work alongside your father, he needed to play his cards right.

Everyone clapped at the end of his presentation and Jay even received plenty of compliments from the seniors, but Jeonghan sat there with a frown on his face. Jay was afraid that he would say something risky, but Jeonghan just stayed silent as they moved on to the next person.

That night, Doses and Mimosas plagued them once more.

On top of that, it was freezing in the basement that night. Jay was sure he would get hypothermia by the morning, and it seemed like everyone else thought the same, too, because Yeonjun was complaining for what felt like an hour. Sunghoon had left the basement half an hour ago after being called on by Sungjin to run some trivial errand, and Jay was honestly feeling jealous that Sunghoon got to be somewhere that wasn't the sub-zero basement.

Several of the girls tried huddling together for warmth with chattering teeth. Heeseung, who had enough, unzipped his sleeping bag and sat up.

"Jay, let's cuddle."

"No," he replied gruffly.

Heeseung shoved Jay's shoulder with his foot. "C'mon, let me in your sleeping bag."

"No. You're cold as shit."

"You're cold, too!"

"You're gonna disrupt the warmth I've generated in here."

"That's disgusting. Just let me inside."

With a reluctant sigh, Jay unzipped his sleeping bag to let Heeseung inside. His friend zipped it up again to the best of his abilities and proceeded to wrap an arm around Jay.

"Gay as hell," Yeonjun remarked.

"We're wearing socks," Heeseung and Jay replied together.

The next morning, Jay found out that no one had been called by any of the seniors except Sunghoon, who had been targeted by his older brother all night. It was unfair, but everyone knew better than to call out the president himself.

Jay's Thursday had been going smoothly until he returned to the house after his classes. It was then when he realized that his badge was missing. Changmin helped Jay look for it all around the basement and offered to go back to campus to look for it. They only had an hour left until they were required to be back, but Jay and Changmin made a run for it.

"We need to retrace your steps," Changmin said. "Tell me all the places you went to today."

"I went to class," Jay started, looking up as he tried to recollect his morning, "and then I went to the food court... then the library... then the bowling alley... then I went to my other class."

"Fuck were you doing at the bowling alley?"

"Uh... bowling."

He liked to take advantage of the recreational activities that Yale offered to its students.

They searched each area thoroughly, but there was no sign of his badge and Jay's hope in finding it was wavering. With ten minutes left until they had to be back, they were forced to give up on the search. Changmin offered to back him up when Jay was going to receive his inevitable punishment, but Jay told him that he would take the full blame since it was on him, anyway.

Strangely enough, when he told Jennie about losing his pin, she simply jotted something down on her clipboard and nodded. That somehow worsened the dread Jay felt.

The rest of the night was oddly enjoyable. They had a game night with the seniors, which consisted of several bonding activities and icebreakers that lightened the tension they felt around the active members. Jay was so glad that he wasn't being ordered around for a night that he forgot about how anxious he was over his missing badge.

To top it off, they got to sleep early and didn't have to listen to Doses and Mimosas throughout the night, too. Giselle even cried tears of joy as she complained about her newfound hatred for the song.

Then, it was finally Friday, but the past four days felt like they were a month long to Jay. He hoped the next three days would fly by, but the day was already feeling long as he and Karina had been nagged by Taehyung and Baekhyun to clean the living room. Jay decided not to go to campus for the day so that he could sleep in a little longer, but he regretted his decision soon after.

He tried to come up with an excuse to head back to campus with Karina, but they wound up cleaning the entire first floor before they could even get the chance to complain. Eventually, the seniors started targeting Sunoo and Chaewon, so Jay slipped away to catch up on lost hours of sleep.

Later, when it was time for their activity that night, Jennie's instructions were so vague that all of the pledges were too befuddled to ask for clarification. Thankfully, Sunghoon took the initiative to question her.

"You want us to find something to impress the actives?" he asked, brows furrowing. "Find what?"

"Anything. You just have to be back in two hours." Jennie shrugged. "We'll split you guys into two groups. How about just the boys versus the girls? Whichever group gets the most votes from the actives gets to sleep upstairs in the living room."

Everyone knew what that meant: no ceaseless repetition of Doses and Mimosas throughout the night. There was a competitive fire blazing in most of their eyes now.

"So, there's no limitation on what we can bring?" Yeonjun asked.

Jennie shook her head. "Nope, and you can go anywhere you'd like, as long as you're back within the time limit. Jeonghan and Jaehyun have offered up their cars for each team—just don't crash them."

Jay, the self-proclaimed car-stealer, was deemed the driver for the boys' team. They were instructed to leave at 10:00 p.m. at the same time, but Sunoo and Jay were starting to feel nervous because the girls seemed so much more prepared than they were. Apparently, the girls knew exactly what they were going to retrieve while Jay had just been watching Eunseok and Heeseung play chopsticks for the past fifteen minutes.

"I wanna go ask them, but there's no way they're gonna tell us what they're gonna bring back," Sunoo mumbled to Jay. "Maybe we should just bring back ear plugs and pray we can sleep through another night of that damn song."

Jay's eyes went wide for a moment before he glowered. "How did we never think of ear plugs until now?"

'I doubt they'd do much. The speakers are so fucking loud."

"We should just buy hammers and smash them."

"We could do it in front of the seniors, too. That'll be sure to impress them."

When it was time for them to leave, Jay was starting to worry about how eight people would fit in Jeonghan's car. To his relief, Jeonghan owned a 7-seater SUV, so they just needed four people to squeeze in the middle row.

Heeseung claimed shotgun, so Changmin, Yeonjun, Sunoo, and Eunseok took the middle row while Chenle and Sunghoon took the two seats in the back. Still, even though they were situation, no one had even come up with a proper plan on what they were going to bring back for the seniors. They sat in the parking lot and watched the girls drive off in Jaehyun's car in complete silence before Yeonjun spoke up.

"Let's steal a goat," he said.

The rest of them turned to gawk at Yeonjun with incredulous looks on their faces.

"A goat," Sunoo echoed.

"I was gonna suggest a cow, but I don't think we have space for a cow."

"And you think we have space for a goat?"

"Well, we have more space for a goat than a cow."

"I don't think that should be the deciding factor here."

"It is a valid deciding factor. Also, University of Connecticut has goats. Wouldn't it be sick if we stole something from another campus?"

They all stared at each other for a moment before Jay reluctantly put in the directions for University of Connecticut.

Chenle laughed, astonished. "We're actually stealing a goat? From UConn?"

"We'll just borrow it," Yeonjun reasoned. "I mean, who's even gonna notice?"

Despite Yeonjun sounding borderline insane, everyone was on board because, to be perfectly honest, it would be funny if they stole a goat, and they were sure the seniors would appreciate the sentiment. Whatever the girls did wouldn't compare to the entire mission the boys were carrying out to kidnap a goat. But if they failed, it would just remain a good memory, at least.

Since University of Connecticut was relatively close, Jay only had to drive for ten minutes until they reached the campus. They just barely managed to get through three songs during the drive, all of which were being sung off-key by the men. As Jay drove along the edge of campus, he finally spotted the livestock that were fenced in.

Yeonjun, Heeseung, Eunseok, and Changmin agreed to be the ones to bring back the goat. The rest of them stayed in the car and kept an eye out. Jay was glad he stayed in the car because, aside from not wanting to be anything more than an accomplice to this crime, he finally got the chance to rant about how grueling their initiation had been so far.

Chenle was the first one to bring it up, and as soon as he did, Sunoo and Sunghoon started complaining, too. Jay joined in after, but he had been thinking the exact things they had.

Thirty minutes later, they saw the four boys walking back to the car with the animal in Yeonjun's arms. Jay honestly didn't want to know how they managed to get inside the pen, but he ended up finding out anyway after Eunseok gave them the whole storytime.

Then, Jay took a closer look at the animal.

"Dude," he said flatly, "that's a baby sheep, not a goat."

The four of them froze before leaning closer to the sheep to get a better look at it.

"Oh, fuck," Heeseung muttered.

Eunseok shrugged. "I mean, a sheep's still fine, right?"

"No, no, no," Sunghoon warned with a firm shake of his head. "Stealing a goat is funny, but a baby sheep's just fucked up."

"You gotta return it, dude," Chenle said. "Bring back an actual goat."

It took another thirty minutes for them to reunite the sheep with its flock and steal an actual goat, which Heeseung claimed they cross-verified several times before carrying to the car. The goat, which they named Rectangle (because of the pupils), bleated at random throughout the car ride, which they speculated was it trying to socialize.

Since they had a good forty minutes left until they were supposed to return, they tried teaching Rectangle tricks until it was time to head back to the Athenaeum. Unfortunately, the goat did not seem to possess the mental capacity to follow their commands.

When they pulled into the parking lot, the girls were already back. They were all gathered around Jaehyun's car, and the seniors were making conversation with them as they waited for Jay's group to come back. After they parked and got out of Jeonghan's car, the seniors requested for them to present what they brought.

"We wanted to find something that symbolized the Order," you started, turning to pull something heavy out of the trunk, "so, we pulled some strings and made this plaque with the owl of Athena. We designed it ourselves, too, since Yizhuo's dad owns a steel company, so you guys can keep it for the house."

The boys exchanged horrified looks. Their faith in Rectangle was slowly diminishing by the second.

The seniors looked incredibly impressed with the girls' present as they ran their fingers over the pattern and gushed over how perfectly it matched their society. Jennie looked incredibly proud from the sidelines, and Jay could only think about how the boys were gonna wipe that expression off her face once she saw the goat they stole.

"Alright, it's your guys' turn," Sungjin said with a light laugh. "This is gonna be a hard one to beat, though."

"Oh, uh... so," Sunoo started sheepishly, looking back at where Rectangle was chewing on a seat belt. It let out a pathetic bleat that had some of the seniors trying to peer into the car. "We got you guys a goat from UConn."

Changmin picked up Rectangle and placed him in front of everyone, letting it trot around and make low, muttering sounds. For a while, everyone just stared at the goat in disbelief until a few seniors burst into laughter at the sight of the animal. A few of them started petting it affectionately.

While no comments were made to praise them for bringing back a goat, Jay was satisifed that they weren't scolded, at least. The Order turned away to discuss who would be the winning team while the girls started cooing over Rectangle. Jay was certain that their goat was going to be the only real winner tonight.

"Alright, we've made our decision," Sungjin announced. "We appreciated that both teams took different approaches. However, there can only be one winner, and while the goat was funny, we feel that it's only fair that the girls are rewarded for the effort they put into this task."

While Jay was disappointed, he, too, thought it was only fair that the girls won. He would've felt a lot worse if the guys won for something that required much less effort.

Thus, they were sent back to the basement while the girls got to sleep in the living room. Before that, though, they were sent back to return Rectangle. This time, all eight of them got out of the car to say their goodbyes to the goat. Yeonjun was tearful when he realized that Rectangle's friends would never believe what just happened to it.

When they were back in the basement and washing up before bed, Sunghoon supplied, "They technically liked our goat, so maybe they won't torment us tonight?"

Heeseung grimaced. "Hopefully."

As if on cue, Doses and Mimosas started blasting through the speakers, like it was taunting them, and the eight of them groaned in broken harmony.

The girls were sent back downstairs early in the morning, and Jay pressed his face deeper into his pillow so that he wouldn't have to see them and feel jealous about how they got to sleep peacefully.

There were only two days left, and Jay was ready for everything to be over. When they all went out for lunch together, Jennie texted the group chat that they would get to have a free Saturday with no activities planned for the night. It was music to everyone's ears, of course, but they couldn't help but feel that tomorrow would be worse.

The seniors weren't around the house much, either. Jay dragged Sunoo to the library with him in case they came back and started hazing the pledges again, but he never received any texts telling him to head back to the house.

That night, however, Doses and Mimosas was turned up higher than ever before. Jay didn't even think it could get any louder, but the sound was amplified to the point where he felt the bass buzzing through his body, creeping up his legs and traveling to his skull. He felt like his ears were going to split, but it was their last night. He could make it through one more night. He just needed to close his eyes and tune out the noise.

Jay hardly got a wink of sleep, probably passing out for thirty minutes out of pure exhaustion, but he kept jolting awake whenever the bass got louder. He felt like a shell of a person at this point, so he just rolled over onto his stomach and put his pillow over his head.

Sunday was chock-full of the Order members calling and texting them to run useless errands. Jay had to take Sehun's laundry to a laundromat despite the house having its own room with five washers and five dryers. That wasn't even the most ridiculous of busy work; Eunseok, Karina, and Heeseung were tasked to scrub the second floor with toothbrushes, you and Giselle were sent out on a scavenger hunt (to look for items that Jay was pretty sure didn't even exist), Yeonjun had to transcribe a thirty minute long voice recording that was hardly comprehensible with multiple voices overlapping; and Yizhuo, Sunghoon, and Ryujin had to wash everyone's cars.

By nightfall, Jay was just glad that they were in the final stretch. He was ready to be done with the entire process, and he was banking on his body holding out for tonight before he collapsed from exhaustion.

"Tonight should be fast, depending on how well you guys do," Jennie told them with an inauspicious edge that had half of the pledges looking fed-up already. This time, all of the seniors were gathered behind Jennie, too, and all of them wore expressionless faces. "Have you guys heard of a Centurion?"

Before Jay was about to rattle on about its historical context in Rome, Chenle had already answered. Jay was glad that he didn't say anything because it happened to be a drinking game—not whatever Jay was prepared to explain.

"We're gonna be doing something a little different," Jennie continued. "Since there's fifteen of you, we're going to be doing a double Centurion, so you have to drink two hundred shots of beer within one hundred minutes." Before anyone could grouch, she added, "And you have to answer our questions as you drink. I hope you guys have been studying."

He figured Jennie had been referring to the information she gave them a week ago. The problem was, although Jay had memorized everything, he wasn't sure how well his memory would serve him after how tired he was.

Sungjin and Joshua carried over the table that they would be playing the game on. Jennie and Doyeon started pouring beer in the cups that Jisoo and Jaehyun were setting out on the table. Some of the cups looked a little more than a shot, but what worried Jay was if he would be in the right state of mind to answer questions toward the end of the game.

"We should just go in order," you suggested. "That's like—what?—thirteen shots between all of us? One shot per thirty seconds, so we're gonna have, like, an eight minute break between shots. If someone can't drink any more, one of us can drink for them."

It was a solid plan, and everyone was fairly optimistic about it until the game began. As you downed the first shot, Jennie had asked the first question, looking at you specifically for an answer. You stammered for a few seconds, looking at her blankly as you floundered for words. Since you were drinking, you were hardly paying attention to what she was saying, expecting someone else to answer her question while you downed the shot. Eventually, the answer seemed to come to you, but Jennie simply waved her hand to silence you, and she noted something down on her clipboard before moving on to Yeonjun.

Yeonjun managed to get the question about the Order's motto wrong as well, and then they moved on to Giselle without missing a beat, who also got her question wrong. Jay didn't even hear his question, and when he asked if they could repeat it, he was ignored and they moved on to Changmin.

This continued on and on, with everyone getting more and more tipsy with each round. It didn't help that all of them were running on way less sleep than they should have gotten this week, so nobody was in the right state to be answering questions at rapid speed while downing shots of beer.

Closer to the last round, they had gotten under half of the questions correct, but the Order started asking random questions in place of their society's history. They seemed to have run out of things to ask, so they were asking obscure questions that threw the pledges off before they had time to think of an answer.

"What car does Wonwoo drive?" Jisoo asked, rousing snickers from the rest of the members.

("Honestly," Jeonghan muttered from beside Joshua, "I don't even know what car Wonwoo drives.")

"A Mercedes," Ryujin, who had been tasked to clean the cars earlier in the day, answered breathlessly as she was twelve shots deep.

"Model?"

She pressed her lips together. "I don't know."

Incorrect.

By the end of the activity, everyone was spent and tired. All of the pledges were tipsy, holding onto each other to keep upright and leaning their heads on each other's shoulders. You and Giselle had your heads on each of Yeonjun's shoulders, who had his held tilted back and his eyes closed.

"Alright, you're done," Jennie announced loudly, giving them a glimmer of hope for a single moment before her next words had the pledges crumbling apart again. "Time for punishments."

"Punishments?" you asked scornfully.

Jennie started listing off various things that the pledges were getting punished for one-by-one; Heeseung and Eunseok got twenty push-ups for not leaving the floor spotless, all of the boys got fifty sit-ups for losing to the girls, everyone got five sit-ups for each question they got wrong during the Centurion activity, and several other petty reasons that Jay couldn't even find reason in.

"And," Jennie said in a clipped tone, "one hundred push-ups each for Yeonjun, Giselle, Eunseok, Ryujin, Chaewon, Y/N, Jay, Heeseung, and Sunghoon."

Heeseung gawked at her. "For what?"

"For your little run-in with the police in Monaco."

"You knew about that?" Yeonjun asked, his voice pitched an octave higher as he had completely sobered up at her words.

"Of course I did. Now get started, and please do it together so no one has to start over."

They collectively agreed to get the push-ups over with first, which went smoothly for the first thirty or so, but then a few of them were starting to get tired. Jay was glad that Sunghoon, Heeseung, and Yeonjun had been dragging him to the gym every day, but even he couldn't keep up once they hit fifty.

On top of his fifty push-ups over the goat debacle, Jay still had to do another hundred for the Monaco incident, so he had to keep going even after a few of the pledges were finished. His wrists felt like they were burning by the time they were counting off numbers so high that he couldn't think straight anymore. His elbows quivered as he lowered himself to the ground.

Clearly, he wasn't the only one struggling. Giselle was almost crying through her push-ups and he could hear Heeseung's winces of pain from his left.

"I can't do it anymore," Karina rasped once her limbs gave out. "I'm done. I can't do this."

Jennie looked extremely worried, but before she could say anything, Sungjin calmly said, "If you want a seat in our society, you have to keep going."

They pushed on with burning lungs and heavy pants. The only reason Jay knew which number he was on was because Sunghoon was counting them off, but his voice was starting to sound distorted and far-off. Jay just wanted to let his elbows buckle so that he could feel the cool ground against his cheek and let his sore limbs rest.

He then felt someone's shoe wedge itself between Jay's feet to keep them from slipping. Jay looked under his arm to see that it was Sunoo, who had finished his push-ups and was waiting against the wall for them to finish. Grateful, Jay lowered himself to the ground again with trembling arms.

When Jay was finally done, hardly managing to keep himself from toppling over, Jennie fixed him with a curious look and said, "Oh, right. Jay, you have an extra hundred for losing your badge."

Jay's heart dropped.

He already felt like he was going to die. How could they make him do more when he was already on the verge of passing out?

"Another hundred?" he squawked out. His shoulders sagged and his chest was heaving. "I can't—I feel so... there's no way."

"We tried to find his pin, but we couldn't," Changmin tried defending him, but it didn't seem like a reasonable enough excuse for the Order. "We retraced his steps and everything."

"He shouldn't have lost it in the first place," Sungjin replied calmly and unsympathetically.

Jay was getting into position again when you spoke up, "I'll split his push-ups with him. I'll do fifty."

He whipped his head around to look at you, shocked. You looked like you were on the verge of fainting yourself, so why would you put yourself through that? Still, your resolution was unwavering, and the Order didn't seem to have an opposition to the pledges helping each other out.

"I'll split the push-ups, too," Changmin offered. "I was the one who went with him and still couldn't find the badge."

"I'll do it, too," Sunoo said, dragging himself up to get in formation again. "I went to class with Jay and didn't even notice his badge was missing."

A tide had turned. Even though no one had anything to do with Jay losing his pin, every pledge started offering to split the push-ups. Everyone, despite being pushed to their limit, offered to help him with something that was completely his fault.

And Jay felt a warmth in his heart that spurred him to keep going. A dangerous sort of affection, really, because he was touched beyond belief. Never did he think that he would feel such closeness to people he was only supposed to consider as subjects of interest.

Now, they only had to do six each. Jennie hid a smile behind her clipboard as she watched them line up once more to power through their last interval of push-ups.

"Okay, you're done," Jennie called out afterward, and all of them crumpled to the ground at once. Jay felt like his chest was about to explode. "Time for sit-ups."

Jay got seven questions wrong during the Centurion round and several other demerits from the Order members for various offenses, so he had a good number of sit-ups to do, but it would be much easier than the push-ups. However, he was already so exhausted that he was sure his body would give out soon. Sunoo clapped him on the back to signal that they were doing their sit-ups against the wall, and Jay turned around with great effort to lay on his back and press the toes of his shoes against the wall.

Sunghoon counted them off again, his voice no louder than a breath, and Jay heard several grunts of pain as they raised themselves up. Jay's core ached even from the first one. His blood was rushing in his ears and his pulse was so intense that he could feel it pounding in every artery.

Jay thankfully didn't have as many sit-ups than he had push-ups, so he was finished relatively sooner than most. His sweat-matted hair was all over his forehead, and he pushed it back once he was sitting upright again, leaning back on his elbows. Several pledges were still going in slow, painful efforts. Jay got to his feet and went to stand off to the side, but he noticed you struggling and looked over at Jeonghan, who grimaced at him in an if-you-must sort of way.

He then sat behind you, ignoring your bewildered looks, and he placed a hand on the small of your back to help you raise your body with each sit-up. The other pledges who completed their sit-ups decided to help the others, too, after seeing what Jay was doing. At some point, Jay was practically pushing you upright, as if you were some lifeless doll, and you just went along with his motions.

"Finished?" Jennie called out once the last person, Yizhuo (who had the most sit-ups racked up), had finished. "Get up. You guys are gonna do wall sits until you can say our oath in perfect unison."

Jeonghan sent Jay a sympathetic look and a nod that seemed to tell the junior that this was it. They would be done after this.

Jay held onto that.

Everyone was sluggish and exhausted, both physically and mentally, but they all dragged themselves to their feet like zombies and got in position again.

"Man, this is so fucked up," Heeseung got out, moaning feebly from how his muscles ached.

"Support each other, if you need to," Jennie said, looking away quickly when she saw how several of them were doubling over to catch their breaths.

Jay noticed that Giselle put her leg under his to support his weight, so he did the same for Changmin, who was to his left. Down the line, everyone seemed to catch on and get in the same position. Each pledge had a leg under the person next to them to keep them upright, except you, who was unfortunately the first in line.

Each time someone said the wrong word or fumbled over their words, they were yelled at to start over again. Jay felt like they had been there for nearly an hour, and his legs were starting to give out. You and Karina fell to the ground at some point, and they were simply asked to stand up and keep going.

Eventually, by some stroke of luck, the fifteen of them managed to recite their oath in perfect unison with even their labored panting syncing up.

Jennie burst into tears by the end, so Sungjin had to speak up in her place, "You're officially our newest delegation. Welcome to the Order."

Jay heard several of the seniors clapping and cheering for them, but Giselle's leg gave out under him, and he collapsed to the ground along with her. Everyone else seemed to be on the floor, too, and plenty of them were crying with what Jay suspected was partly their joy over being done and partly because they were so spent from the physical exertion.

Jeonghan helped Jay up to his feet and asked, "You good?"

Jay nodded dumbly. "Just glad I never have to listen to Doses and Mimosas again."

Jeonghan laughed, and when he handed Jay a bottle of water, Jay chugged it so fast that the bottle was empty in seconds. His limbs still felt like they were buzzing and sore, but he could at least stand upright without falling over.

Jennie was still sobbing into her hands, being comforted by Jisoo and Irene, who were also secretly recording the sight with amusement drawn across their faces. She seemed more distressed over the whole ordeal than Jay was, but what he hated the most was that he genuinely felt a sense of fondness toward her and the others after the entire experience. As the juniors pulled him in for a group hug, he knew that their one week had pulled them all together so close that Jay was going to feel miserable when he would eventually have to betray their trust.

"I'm gonna sleep forever," Giselle said loudly, mostly to drown out how Heeseung was making fun of her for crying earlier. "I'm gonna go home and sleep forever."

Jay looked around to find you, and then he walked around the others to tap your shoulder. You immediately turned around, and he asked, "Are you okay? You were the only one who didn't get any support during wall sits."

"Yeah, I'm fine," you said with a shaky grin. "My legs feel like they're on fire, though. But, apparently, my dad had it worse when he joined, so I can't complain that much."

Jay didn't see much reason in that. To what extent were you expected to live up to your dad's standards? He knew it wasn't the time to press you for answers, though, so Jay simply mustered a smile for you and rubbed your back in soothing circles.

Now that he was in the Order, your father was his next target.

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SUMMARY ▸ private investigator jay park just wants to complete his mission quietly and move on with his life. you, his new assignment who keeps consuming his thoughts, don't make that very easy for him.

AUTHOR'S NOTE ▸ okay Wow i got a little too ahead of myself here but if you made it to the end, thank you for reading this 15k word chapter !! i did Not expect it to get this long and although it might Feel a little filler-y, it was necessary trust !

TAG LIST ▸ @zdgx1 @smouches @heesdazed @teawithbucky @leep0ems @peachpie4you @niniissus @kgneptun @jaeyunluvr @zerasari @sophiko22 @iselltulips @hoondiors @baekhyunstruly @jays-property @woninluv @heerinnie @fakeuwus @yizhoutv @theothernads @y4wnjunz @dammit-jjk @en-happiness @mari-oclock @soonyoungblr @jakeslvt @taetaenic @jebetwo @fairysungx @hsgwrld @shmooooo @ineedsomezzz @mrowww @enha-stars @seongclb @lockburn-castle @alyssajavenss @enczen @calumsfringe @w3bqrl @luvyev @uhsakusa @luvnicho @wildflowermooon @navsnct @hooniesuniverse @enhalov @enhypens-baby @isawritesss

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frogchiro · 1 year ago

Text

Cowboy Casanova

Day 2 entry!! Yay! Today we have our favorite american slasher, Graves! I hope you enjoy reading♡

Warnings: nsfw, mentions of blood, death and a tiny bit of gore but not too much, it's slasher Graves, general pervy, creepy behavior and just kinda toxic and obsessive Graves, stalking

Philip Graves is a particular man. Coming from an extremely rich and privileged background, basically from the beginning he had or would get everything he would ever want. When he wanted his very own horse at 8? His papa got him one from the best breeder. He wanted a fancy pick up truck at 16 to show off to his peers the moment he got his license? His parents gave him the keys with a smile. He wanted to bang a girl when he was in college? Here she was, hopping on his dick an hour later.

But the thing about Philip Graves was that he's a very jealous and possessive man. He might be called a spoiled brat born with a silver spoon in his mouth but he jealously covets and protects what he cherishes; the gifted horse had the best everything it could ever want and it peacefully died of old age, the pick up truck was thoroughly loved and taken care of and is still in his garage used for recreational rides, as for the girlfriend? Well...yeah sure he dumped her like a week after but at least he snatched her right from under some shit-for-brains rugby player.

But as years passed by nothing seemed to excite him anymore, sure he had his fun in many ways, even picked up a new hobby or two, but even the screams and begging of his victims didn't do the trick anymore. Now that he's pushing 40, Philip's mind starts to wander to places he never thought it would; a pretty floral sundress or skirt moving around his home, a sweet smile and soft eyes greeting him when he gets home from wrangling his ranch, the delicious smell of a nutricious, fatty dinner wafting through the kitchen and the pitter patter of tiny feet clumsily running towards him, a flash of a tiny pink dress jumping at him. A family. Something Philip never thought about in his youth but he guesses the 'biological clock' wasn't complete bullshit as he thought. The problem was that no one really interested him, no one made his heart squeeze and his cock stir to make them the candidate for Philip's wife and those certainly weren't the women in town. No, it had to be someone perfect, a perfect wife, mother, partner for life but there was no one...

Well... his problem solved itself quicker than he thought with your arrival in town. A sweet looking young thing, you looked just about 20 and like a frightened doe when he first saw you get out of the bus one evening with just a measly backpack and a suitcase, not nearly enough to be moving in here but later when he did his own research and asked the local sheriff after you he found out you were apparently staying here and Philip would be lying if he said that his cock didn't pulse in his jeans with happiness.

He didn't believe in love at first sight, fuck no, that was some bullshit in those terrible romantic comedies and such, he didn't have time for this but with you? The blonde man knew you would be trouble with your big, doe eyes, soft body and those broad hips he was sure would carry a baby for him, his baby...

He found put that you were renting a room in old Margery's home in exchange for working in her orchard and helping her around her little farm. Pff, if he had it his way, if only you came to him for help, you wouldn't ever have to lift a finger again, just be sweet and nice and cook him dinner buuut well, here you are.

You may ask, how did he find out all these things about you? Well the thing about Philip is that he's very persistent and once he sets his sight on something, he will get it even if he has to resolve to some...unethical methods like stalking although he'd rather call it 'gathering information for good, future use' which leads you now to the present where the blonde man is hiding behind some bushes and trees to look at you getting ready for bed.

He still can't believe his luck, your room is on the upper floor facing the dark orchard where especially at night like now, Philip can go undetected and he takes full advantage of it. He watches you undress from your pretty pastel sundress, your tits and soft tummy on show, not to mention your hips and thighs.

"Ohh you're just asking for it darlin', ain't ya?" Philip growled lowly to himself as he watched you slip into a nightgown, a modest thing but still pretty plus it showed off a lot of your cleavage and Graves licked his lips before biting his lip at the thought of suckling your cute nipples, marking up your tits so that everyone would know that you're his-but what is that? What are you doing, you little songbird?

Philip's train of thoughts was abruptly cut short when he saw you dimming your lights and slipping a hand under your nightgown, the other one slipping off the shoulder strap down and starting to finger at your nipple. From this distance and due to the darkness around he couldn't see well but he saw your brows draw in tight, your pretty lips falling open to gasp as your fingers worked probably on your clit.

"You little fuckin' tease..." came growled from Philip, his teeth gnashing at the display, a sudden weave of possessiveness washing over him. Suddenly he's jealous of everything, even your bed and nightgown that they get to witness your pleasure and not him. Not your future husband and father of your babies, it doesn't matter that you haven't formally met yet, he will make sure you will soon.

For now though he needs to retreat, go back to his huge but lonely and quiet house and jerk off until his cock is red and raw, balls empty and his belly and chest splattered with his sperm that he grumbles should be inside you but he has to make do for now.

Just you wait little love, soon you will be by his side and then no one will even think of coming between you♡

#kin speaks #kin's kinktober #cod x reader #cod mw x reader #philip graves x reader #graves x reader #philip graves

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reiderwriter · 1 year ago

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do you think you could write where reader is a part of the BAU and gets kidnapped/ hurt by an unsub and spencer saves her? much love and i love your fics!

Hi! Thanks so much for your request. I'll admit this took a bit more brain power than usual 💀 may have gotten slightly carried away creating an unsub lmao

Summary: You go undercover for a case and Reid keeps you company through online messages, only to feel absolutely worthless when you go missing.

Warnings: Typical case descriptions, kidnapping and abuse of Y/N, Reid self-deprecating again but it has a happy fluffy ending so a win.

My Requests are Open! Send me an ask if you want me to write something~ 💕 And check out My Masterlist!

“Y/N, what do you think? I’m not going to send you in if you’re not confident you can complete the mission.'' Your Unit Chief, Aaron Hotchner, was briefing you on the plan. Luckily for the team, or rather, unluckily for you, you fit the victim profile of your latest case, and with an absence of leads, your last chance to get him before he took another victim was an undercover mission.

“I can do it, but can we establish a background in enough time? He’s devolving and he’s going to need to pick up another victim pretty soon.”

You’d been called in to consult on the case two weeks prior. Local women who lived alone in the metropolitan area had been going missing on a weekly basis for the last three months, and the BAU team had been called in when they’d finally found the dump site of the first three victims.

You’d so far managed to figure out how he was finding his victims from their home computers - a site for young women to look for sugar daddies. You’d previously profiled him as a man in his mid-40s who was going through a personal loss and was lashing out at women who represented someone specific to him, and after searching through the dating profiles, you were pretty sure his stressor was a recent or impending divorce.

But try as Garcia might, these dating websites had a whole lot more encoded data than was expected, and after the Ashley Madison scandal of the previous decade, they’d taken to deleting the majority of their user data regularly so that certain accounts couldn’t be found. Which meant that you were left with a geographical profile you couldn’t pin down, a profile that could match half the men in the city, and a killer that was almost ready to strike again.

“Garcia can get something ready for you in the next 8 hours, and we have some access to some FBI safehouses in the area that we can ready in at the same time. Go get yourself prepared for cover.”

And that’s how you found yourself living in a dingy studio apartment on the south side of the city for two days, waiting to report back about whatever men approached you. There wasn’t much for you to complain about, but you were getting pretty lonely.

You’d greeted your new neighbors and made a show of attending some ‘new to the neighborhood’ events, making sure to get out and about to let the team assess if the unsub was stalking you. Other than that you’d spent the rest of your time in your apartment a constant tab open at the sugar baby website. A few men had been interested, and your computer was cloned and running simultaneously on Garcia’s system so the team could do their best to track suspicious accounts.

The rest of your spare time was, surprisingly enough, spent messaging Spencer Reid. You’d been on the team now for three months, joining the team as a transfer from the blue collar division you’d worked in straight out of the academy. You had spent the same amount of time doing your best to gain confidence to work in the field. Sure, you’d trained for this, but theory and practice were so different and you really didn’t want to fuck up so early into your job.

Which is why, you supposed, that Doctor Spencer Reid was so intimidating to you. Though he admittedly wasn’t the best at field work, noting the amount of exceptions the FBI had to make to allow him outside of the office at all on your first meeting, he was just so damned competent. With three PhD’s, three BA’s and a pending fourth on the way, he was the golden child of the BAU, and you found yourself desperate for his approval. It surely didn’t help that he was also your exact type to boot, and sometimes you found yourself conflicted if you wanted his approval because he was so good at his job or because he was go goddamn good-looking.

With no way to know how the unsub was tracking his victims before he kidnapped them, your team theorized it was unsafe to have physical check-ins, opting instead to set up another account on the sugar baby website, that would be manned around the clock. And tech-averse Reid had volunteered to do the bulk of the manning, leaving you with all the time in the world to talk to him in your private chat room.

sug4rbbY/N: Good evening, Doctor, got any interesting facts for me today? ;)

D0ct0rD0ct0r: Did you know that it is illegal to flirt in Haddon Township, New Jersey? Under the section “Peace and Good Order,” a person may be punished for approaching “any person of the opposite sex unknown to such person and by word, sign or gesture attempts to speak to or to become acquainted with such person against his will.”

sug4rbbY/N: Well, aren’t I glad that we do not live in New Jersey then.

D0ct0rD0ct0r: There’s more where that came from if you’re ever interested.

sug4rbbY/N: I’ll certainly keep that in mind.

sug4rbbY/N: Any plans for the evening, doc?

D0ct0rD0ct0r: Just sitting here talking to you :)

sug4rbbY/N: All by yourself? ;)

D0ct0rD0ct0r: Never feel like I’m alone when you’re online.

sug4rbbY/N: Haha that’s sweet.

sug4rbbY/N: BRB, Doc, my doorbell’s ringing.

You stood up from your desk, a glance at the mirror betraying your feelings, as your flush was prominent. You weren’t sure if it was the intimate nature of the messaging system, or just for the sake of your cover, but the flirty tone of your messages had certainly been leaving you wondering if there could be more to your relationship with your coworker in the future.

You quickly walked over to the door, opening it wide and came face to face with a bouquet of flowers.

“Miss Y/N Harper?” the man behind the bouquet used your cover name to address you, and you hesitated a little before nodding in the affirmative. “Can you sign here please? It’s standard procedure for deliveries like this.”

“But I didn’t order any flowers…” you took the bouquet from the man and grabbed the pen in his hand ready to sign.

“Oh yeah, our shop specialises in anonymous flowergrams. That bunch you’ve got in your hand has some aconite, some white lilies and jasmine flowers.” The delivery man explained, and something in your gut twisted as you listened to his words.

“But aren’t lilies usually meant for funera-” you didn’t get to finish because he had pushed a wet rag to your face, and you had just enough time to shake some small petals off and push them far enough underneath a nearby shoe storage unit before you faded into unconsciousness, your last thought a prayer that your team would uncover your clue.

–x–

Needless to say, when you didn’t check back in a few minutes later, Spencer had alerted every cop in the vicinity of your new apartment that you were gone, and they discovered your apartment empty within ten minutes.

“She was right there,” Spencer ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “She was talking to me and then she just got up and he took her.”

“Reid, calm down, she can’t have been gone long, and we have security cameras all over the building. We’ll find her.” Morgan reassured the younger male while searching the entrance of your cover apartment for clues.

“That’s easy for you to say, it isn’t your fault that she’d gone.”

“And it isn’t yours either, Reid. You did your job, but he wasn’t going to stop until he had her.”

“I should’ve notified the standby officers as soon as she sent through that last message and what was I doing instead? Trying to figure out if she was flirting with me for real or not. I’m pathetic.”

“Reid, get your head back in the game. She’s gone and theres nothing you can do to change that now, but we need your head here or we’re not going to find her. Y/N’s an agent too, remember, she can hold her own. Now look and think.”

“SSA Morgan, Doctor Reid, we may have something over here,” one of the local detectives called the two men over. They’d found the remnants of the petals you’d done your best to scatter, and even though the unsub had taken the bouquet with him, he hadn’t been as thorough as he should have been.

“We didn’t set her up with any flowers when she started her cover, so these must have been bought in by the unsub. I’ll call Garcia, tell her to look for any flower shops within his comfort zone.” Morgan hit the number on his speedial, but before he could start, Reid cut him off.

“Wait, I think we can narrow the search a bit further. Those are Aconite petals, they’re not often stocked by local florists because they have a pretty sinister meaning. They’re usually used to express hatred for the receiver, and because of their poisonous properties most florists don't stock them for fear of doing harm and causing lawsuits. He must be specifically ordering them in to give to his victims. Garcia, can you crossreference the list of florists in the area and check to see how many of them have purchased this plant recently?”

“Just the one. Sending you the address now. Go find our girl Doc.”

–X–

When you came to, in what you assumed to be a backroom of some kind of flower shop, you were bound at the ankles and wrists and there was a gag in your mouth. You struggled a bit against your bindings but it was no good, and you had to reassure yourself that you were going to be okay, doing your best to push down the tears and clear your head.

You decided your best bet was to get to know your surroundings, check to see what was around you and what you could use to your advantage. There was a clock on the wall, and you realised that you’d only been gone half an hour. Reminding yourself that the unsub kept his victims for a minimum of two days did a lot to get your heartbeat back to a normal pace, but it spiked again as soon as you heard the door slam open and your captor walk in.

“Stupid little bitch,” he slurred his words slightly and you could smell the alcohol on his breath as he moved closer to your space in the corner. You tried your best to scamper as far away from him as possible, but he grabbed you by the hair and pulled you up to his face.

You winced at the pain and tried to squirm out of his hold. “Look at you all pathetic now, begging me to let you out. It’s not going to fucking happen, y'know. I’m going to be the last person you see, last person you hear,” he throws you against the wall, pinning you up with his hand on your arms as he sends a leering glance down your shirt and then gives you a disgusting grin. “Last person you touch.”

Your bindings mean your movement is limited, but you still manage to bring both your legs up to knee him in the groin, effectively pushing him off you but landing hard on the ground yourself after you manage to do so.

“Fucking whore,” he shouts at you standing up and dealing a sharp kick to your head that has your vision going white for a minute. “I’ll teach you to fucking mess with me again, you little bitch.” He makes to grab you again, but before he can you hear the blissful sounds of a door being kicked down and the shouts of the FBI to stand down.

Two agents are on him in minutes and you finally allow yourself to let out a deep sob in relief, as a third, very recognisable agent, makes his way to your side.

“Y/N, shhh baby, it’s okay. You’re okay now, I’ve got you,” Reid whispers in your ear as he unties you as gently and carefully as he can. The moment your arms are free you leap into him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pushing your face deeply against his chest. He pulls away just enough to untie your legs, and then lets you burrow into him again.

“I knew you’d find me. Knew you’d understand something from those fucking flowers.” You sob into his chest now, as he strokes your hair, just holding you like that on the floor until you’re ready to move.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I should’ve sent someone to check sooner, and I should’ve never let you accept that stupid cover mission,this is my fault and I'm going to make it up to you. I'm never going to let anyone hurt you ever ag-” he begins rambling but you shut him up again, this time by firmly pressing your lips into his.

“Before you say anything else, this is not transference and I’m not doing this because you saved me, we both know I would’ve done that eventually anyway,” you rest your forehead against his, and after he has time to process what has just happened, he’s wiping the tears away from your face, and gently holding it with both of his hands, leaning in to do it again, gently pressing his mouth against yours as if he’s afraid you might bolt at any second.

“Thank you, again. For finding me,” you whisper to him, the space between you so miniscule now that you barely had to move your lips to know that he understood you.

“Thank you, for letting me find you.” He grinned at you and held you again, determined to never let you out of his arms ever again.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid fandom

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ronearoundblindly · 17 days ago

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For every cevans who are the ass men and who are the boob men 👀😏 .. maybe there are some who like both equally?

This...did not at all shake out the way I thought it would at first. More of them lean towards the top rather than the bottom, but the one's who like the butt really, really like the butt. I decided to do percentages in order of preference--the formula shows up as % tits / % ass. Warnings for sexual discussion.

A/N: What a bizarre thing to find myself thinking about for HOURS...

Ransom Drysdale 90 / 10

In a word? Jewelry. Now, an expensive necklace laying just in the valley of your breasts is not the only reason Ran prefers this view, but it's the main one.

Jimmy Dobyne 85 / 15

Breeding kink and lactation kink. Sorry. He's a simple man who is deep-down obsessed with your tits getting bigger because of him and what he did to you. This is a man who enjoys getting completely lost in sex (in his own head though, since he's not using a lot of brainpower to check in with you and your needs during the actual act).

Curtis Everett 80 / 20

He's hands-on, and the simple truth is it's easier to have his hands (or mouth) on your breasts during foreplay or missionary, even doggy-style. Curtis enjoys touch far more than he'll admit out loud, so there's also the simple fact that when you hug, he gets more contact with your top than your bottom, or dancing, or sleeping, etc. There is--and I will die on this hill--something deeply primal aroused in him when he sees your bare décolleté. Somehow that is more exposed and naughtier than you wondering around in a bikini. Not sure how to explain that further. Breasts to neck are just his real estate.

Steve Rogers 75 / 25

I mean, the guy was eye-level with them for most of his life, so yeah, Steve's fascinated by tits. He also finds laying on your chest deeply soothing. He likes the soft, sensual side of showing attention to your tits and loves when they're very sensitive. Don't get me wrong; Steve enjoys a well-balanced woman, and he will dote on all of you. He just...really likes playing with your boobs, darn it!

Important note: read that stat as "25% backside" for Steve's delicacy, please. He won't say the other thing...

Andy Barber 70 / 30

The low-key version of Ransom in the sense that for public and work events, Andy would like to show off how gorgeous you are. It's difficult to really highlight the ass without being too risqué, and he'd be far more angry if a bunch of people stared at your backside all night. He's comfortable being envied for your top half, thanks.

Jake Jensen 60 / 40

Purely a numbers game: he is more likely to be flashed than mooned, so Jake is slightly more enamored by the titties. Apart from that, his answer to the question of either/or is "yes."

Johnny Storm 50 / 50

Always changing it up because he's always on the cusp of getting bored, Johnny goes through phases. However, he is equally and actively interesting in both your tits and your ass in a sexual way which is why he gets the actual number percentages, unlike...

James Mace & Bucky Barnes- Indifferent

Slightly different reasons, but at any given time, these two change preferences. Bucky is more emotional and moody in his affection/attention, so depending on the day, he could be wildly into your breasts or your butt. He could also be really into you doting on him. This could all be for nine-million different little experiences that happened in a day or a week. Bucky can't be pinned down as just one thing--partly because he's been several different people in his life.

Mace appreciates that there are esthetically pleasing versions of body parts, that people have different ideals for those, and that it is nice to have one or more of those ideal exist in the relationship. Mace is also practical. Your body will change over time. Hell, his body will definitely change after months in space, so who is he to point out that your ass looked better one way while he loses 30 pounds of muscle between times you seen him? It's not fair and it's not realistic. He just...can't find the energy to care much about this argument. There are more important things that could be an actual problem if they changed, but your body isn't one of them.

[Enormous gap in percentages]

Ari Levinson 10 / 90

I may hate the phrase but Ari is definitely a 'dirty daddy.' He quite likes a nasty, no-holds-barred fuck fest, and those have way more to do with your lower half than your upper half. Something about your ass being his is also more satisfying than any other piece of you. He's a bit possessive that way.

Lloyd Hansen 1 / 99

Boobs can be fake, and unless he is actually fucking your tits, they aren't doing anything for him. Lloyd feeds off of touch sexually, so it's all about that booty bouncing on him or taking him deep or bruising beneath his grip, know what I mean? Yeah, you do, @ellethespaceunicorn.

Thank you for asking!

[Main Masterlist; 'Who Would...' Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

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vrajitosarehaos · 1 month ago

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Healed (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

summary: you finally come out of an emotional sadness and decide to go out with Bucky to dinner, without thinking about who you would end up running into.

words: 3219

A/N: My other blog where I published my one-shots (thewxtchwhowrites) was deleted out of nowhere without explanation, so now I upload it here on the main one. Enjoy 💖

You were carefully walking down the stairs and your heels started making noise as they hit the steps, causing Bucky and Steve who were talking near the door to turn to look at you.

Bucky looked nervous, and it was no wonder, the truth is that he had not been on a date in more than 70 or 80 years, with everything that had happened in his life these last few years since the 40s.

Steve seemed to calm him down, when the blond turned to look at you he had a smile on his lips, he looked like a proud older brother.

As you walked down the stairs you wondered how you had really gotten to this day, and the truth is that the whole series of events had been very convoluted and fun...

Or at least now that you were feeling better.

You had been depressed for a couple of months and it was because your boyfriend with whom you had been in a relationship for five years had broken up with you overnight with a simple message:

"I can't keep doing this, forgive me."

Your eyes began to fill with tears as you continued reading as best you could:

"I owe you what I am today. And it hurts me to tell you this, I don't know, I feel like I'm really screwing up by leaving all these years behind." Your tears no longer let you see, your vision was blurred. "But I want to make that decision and continue alone from now on. Maybe we can be friends in the future."

Bastard. You thought to yourself, it was obvious that there was something strange about his behavior after you both had your last movie date, but you decided not to listen to your intuition even though Natasha had warned you.

"I don't know, honey, I think you should be prepared…" Natasha sat on your bed and sighed, taking one of your pillows in her hands, and noticing one of the photographs you had on your wall where you and your now ex-boyfriend ex-boyfriend, were at a Coney Island fair with ice cream on your faces.

"But Nat…" You said while shaking your head. You were delusional, without a doubt. "We've been together for five years, I don't think we'll break up. He's just a little stressed because his business isn't going well."

There were times when your ex-boyfriend would disappear for weeks, claiming that he was busy working or trying to run his business (a music store that his grandfather had owned for many years) and sometimes when you logged on to social media after work, you would notice that he was still online sharing posts or tweeting, although he didn't respond to your chat.

Sometimes he'd leave you on 'read' or sometimes he just wouldn't seem to open the chat, which was… strange.

Until it happened.

Even the final message of that long paragraph of excuses had a rather late apology that said:

"I'm very sorry, not only for the moment in which I'm telling you all this. But also for what I've put you through and how I treated you, not speaking to you for weeks and then coming to you to write all this shit."

That last message definitely led to long hours of crying, especially at night in your room at the Avenger Compound, not wanting to leave your room, maybe just to eat with everyone or for missions, and then return to your room.

You were even more temperamental during missions, you hit harder, and you were even more reckless, which Bucky noticed immediately, he knew that attitude and hatred.

The first thing Nat, Wanda, and Maria Hill did when they found out was brought you ice cream and have a girls' night out, which ended relatively well, at least until Wanda put on a movie and the guy's name was your ex's.

A couple of nights later you heard a soft knock on your door, you were crying as quietly as you could, and you thought that maybe you had woken up Steve or Nat who were sleeping in the adjoining rooms, when you got up and opened the door, it was Bucky.

"Bucky?" You asked with some confusion.

"I… I brought you this." Bucky took a cookie out of his pants pocket, when you took it you could feel that it was broken. "I accidentally sat on the cookie while I was on my way here on the motorcycle, sorry."

That, even if it was something simple, made you laugh, and maybe it was the first time in five fucking months that you laughed sincerely and not in a forced way.

Bucky after you thanked him, he nodded softly with a shy smile on his lips and left saying goodnight.

You look at Bucky's face as a smile began to form on his lips as you walked down the stairs, it seemed like he saw the most beautiful thing on the planet and he even had a small bouquet of flowers for you in his hands.

As soon as you finished walking down the stairs, Bucky approached you at the bottom of them.

"You look…" Bucky started to say, but stayed silent.

"Do I look too dressed up? Is too much?" You said nervously, touching your hair and ironing your dress with your hands at the level of your stomach, it had been Nat and Wanda's idea to groom you as if you were a little doll even though you weren't totally used to it.

“No, you look like an angel…” Bucky interrupted you. He continued to look at you with those blue eyes, it was a kind, sweet look. You felt your cheeks redden and you let out a nervous laugh.

Steve raised his eyebrows at such a compliment, and since you had your back to Steve, he took the opportunity to give Bucky a thumbs up.

"Oh, this is for you." Bucky gave you the small bouquet of flowers that you took carefully, they smelled delicious.

“James, you didn't have to do it." you said in a whisper, looking between the flowers and Bucky.

You didn't remember that a man had ever given you flowers before, your ex in itself was not a person to give you that type of details and you, sometimes, didn't allow yourself to receive them either.

But for some reason with Bucky, the fact that he gave you those details, it felt different.

“It's true.” He put his hands in the pocket of his black pants, nodding at your comment. "I didn't have to, but I wanted to do it."

That comment caught your attention.

Steve patted both of you gently like a father and opened the door to the compound, smiling.

"Have fun…" Steve looked at you and nodded his approval as if you were his little sister. "But not too much."

Steve looked at Bucky when he said that last sentence, that was definitely a warning to him, Bucky just shrugged and let you take his arm as they walked to the motorcycle to Izzy's.

Honestly, you don't know how it happened, but it happened.

You began to spend more time with Bucky as the days and even weeks went by, first he asked you for help to play a prank on Sam by painting Nightwing as if it were a stingray and recording it to show in the group chat that you all shared.

Then you would help him with technological issues or you would end up sitting in the compound's cinema watching old movies while you listened to him tell you things about how things were in those times.

And maybe some embarrassing stories about Steve.

You discovered that he was chivalrous, opening the door for you and even letting you in first by placing either of his two hands just under your back in a protective manner. Even when you had to take something somewhere he offered himself, not allowing you to do it.

Including the bowl of popcorn, because he didn't want you to get burned.

You thought that sometimes Bucky was an exaggerator, but you began to notice that he did things that even your ex-boyfriend had stopped doing after being together for a while.

When you and Bucky went out on the street, he always offered you his right arm, since he felt a little insecure offering you his left arm, the mechanical one. However, that insecurity started to disappear and then he didn't care which arm you grabbed as long as you held his arm when you walked.

The times when neither of you could sleep and you stayed talking, whether in your bed or his, he didn't fall asleep while you were talking about those topics that you were both passionate about, nor did he change the subject, he just watched you with attention.

Bucky even remembered the things you had said to him a couple of months or weeks ago and that you didn't even remember what you had said to him.

You were healing little by little, starting to be you again.

And somehow he was healing too.

If you were at one of Tony's parties or maybe at a mission meeting, sometimes you would look at Bucky when he wasn't looking at you, and the other way around would also happen, and if you caught each other looking, both would just smile like a couple of fools and look away.

One night you heard a soft knock on your door, you recognized that soft knock, when you opened your door it was Bucky again, but he looked different tonight.

"Hi..." Bucky said slowly, seeming a little nervous, his right hand resting on the frame of your door, trying to look casual. "I wanted to invite you to dinner, well, it's not really a dinner."

You could notice and see Bucky's nervousness when trying to say things as he had (probably) rehearsed them in front of the bathroom mirror and he added:

"Or yes, maybe it is, I don't know."

You interrupted his rambling with a smile on your lips, gently raising a hand to the level of your chest.

"Yes..." That's what you said, you noticed how his eyes softened at the fact that you had agreed. "Yes, I'd like to go."

He nodded repeatedly and sighed in relief, letting out a soft chuckle.

"So Friday at eight sounds good to you?" Bucky was clearing his throat, trying to hide his excitement that you had accepted dinner, you nodded. "Okay, I'll see you on Friday."

Bucky quickly kissed your cheek, wished you goodnight, and left without stopping smiling like a fool.

When you two arrived at Izzy's, Bucky greeted Leah with a smile, she seemed surprised but happy that she now finally saw him with someone other than Mr. Nakajima, especially seeing you walk in with him.

You and Bucky sat at one of the tables and you had a sneaking suspicion that someone was watching you, but you weren't sure after all there were more people than usual today, it was Friday.

After a couple of laughs, drinks, Asian food and bad jokes, a few caresses on your hand from his you noticed out of the corner of your eye that someone was approaching the table and you swore it was a waiter.

But it was your ex.

“Y/N…” Your ex said in a firm voice, looking from Bucky reluctantly and then back to you. "What are you doing here with him?"

The audacity of this idiot. You thought as you heard those words come out of your ex's mouth.

"The real question is, what are YOU doing here?" You responded rudely as a frown began to form on your forehead.

"So you're the… man who broke her heart." Bucky told him in a calm voice, but he was really trying to stop himself from smashing your ex-boyfriend's face into the pretty little sushi boat that was on the table, because he didn't want to ruin your night.

Bucky slowly stood up from the chair, making your ex jump a little, maybe he was nervous with Bucky's presence.

And the truth is he should be nervous.

Bucky was quite tall, strong and even if he didn't have a vibranium left arm, he would have enough strength to change your ex-boyfriend's health status to deceased if he tried to go far with you.

And on top of that he had to avoid at all costs breaking the second rule that he had agreed upon with Dr. Raynor in therapy: No one gets hurt.

Your ex scrunched his face in disapproval at Bucky's words, not believing what he was hearing, but now you understood many things, you had been receiving notifications on social networks, especially from Instagram indicating that your ex occasionally looked at the stories you published.

Part of you didn't understand why you continued to have him on Instagram, perhaps because you used that social network very little, but whatever, now you understood what your ex was doing there.

"What? N-No, I was confused…" Your ex started to speak, he even tried to get a little closer to you, but he couldn't since Bucky gently moved his left arm that was covered by a glove. "Now my mind is more than clear and I want us to go back Y/N."

Bucky tried to talk to him by placing his right hand on his shoulder.

"Look, son…" But your ex just moved, removing Bucky's hand from his shoulder.

"Don't call me son, we are the same age, pal." Your ex responded aggressively, while rolling his eyes, looking back at you.

Very few knew that Bucky was actually 106 years old, which if you had been in another situation you would have found it funny.

"Look, I don't know what you've been through in these eight or nine months, but she and I are together, and she's not interested in getting back with you or anyone else." Bucky spoke in a fairly firm tone of voice, being respectful.

You began to feel anxious, you felt your stomach turn not only from nervousness, but from the embarrassment you were experiencing in the establishment, many of the people at the adjacent tables were looking towards you.

"Are you really going to throw away all these years together with me, by being with him?" Your ex-boyfriend spoke softly, as if he was trying to manipulate you. "Y/N? I know you haven't forgotten me, you still love me, I know that."

You looked between both men, there was some doubt in your eyes or that's what Bucky thought he saw in you, maybe it was embarrassment.

You got up from your seat and enter the bathroom of the place with tears in your eyes, on many occasions you had dreamed of something similar, dreams that ended in nightmares that you tried to ignore some nights, many ended with your ex calling you different things like 'bitch', 'whore' or 'ungrateful witch' while throwing things at you or shaking you.

You ended up waking up drenched in sweat many nights, breathing heavily and then crying silently until sleep overcame you, although those tears and nightmares ended up being silenced by Bucky on more than one occasion while he slept next to you, stroking your hair or hugging you in his arms.

You had entered the bathroom and locked yourself inside one of the stalls, you were hyperventilating, you didn't think the wound would reopen again, you really thought you were over that, you didn't know how much time had passed, you were just sitting on the toilet seat with tears in your eyes.

Until your train of thought stopped when you heard the door to the women's bathroom open wide, hearing soft footsteps coming in and seeming to have stopped near the mirror.

"Y/N?" It was Leah's voice, it sounded soft because the bathroom had quite an echo. "Are you okay, do you need anything?"

"He's gone?" You asked shakily, leaving the bathroom stall, as soon as Leah saw you with your makeup smeared with tears, she gently tilted her head, giving you an empathetic look and approached you.

Leah nodded at your question.

"Yes, between Mr. Nakajima, Bucky and I, we took that being out of the restaurant." Leah rolled her eyes, she reached into the pockets of her apron for a handkerchief with a couple of flowers embroidered on it and wiped your face. "I really thought James was going to break his face, I was already thinking about what to replace the restaurant furniture with… they are made of old wood."

Both laughed at the comment, although you also imagined Mr. Nakajima, who had a bad temper, pushing your ex out of the restaurant door.

He was a man with a quite volatile temperament, like Bucky's.

When you returned to the restaurant you didn't see Bucky, he was outside leaning on his motorcycle, you said goodbye to Mr. Nakajima who was also leaving the restaurant with you and of course to Leah, thanking both.

Mr. Nakajima opened the door for you and let you out first.

"Pretty ladies first" Mr. Nakajima said with a kind smile, which made you laugh, and that made Bucky turn his head to the door of the establishment and approach you.

"Are you ok?" Bucky gently took your face in his hands, caressing your cheeks with his thumbs.

You looked into his eyes and you could feel that he was still upset by your ex's attitude, in fact, he seemed a little uncomfortable, perhaps remembering your look of doubt.

You nodded silently. You had a thoughtful look again.

"Honey…" Bucky began to speak softly, lowering his hands to his sides. It was the first time he had called you that pet name since you had started talking and going out. "I know I'm not the easiest person to deal with."

You remained silent, listening to what he had to say.

"I have nightmares at night, I have anger issues, I'm 106 years old…" Bucky chuckled, looking away from your eyes for a moment to see a couple of people crossing the street during the lonely night. "Even other problems, especially because of my past, so I will totally understand if you want to get back with him."

You didn't know what your expression really was, but Bucky seemed surprised as he looked back at you.

"What? I said something wrong?" Bucky asked, maybe you looked at him like he was crazy.

"I'm really going to have to talk to Dr. Raynor." You said nodding with a smile on your lips.

Bucky looked at you confused, he didn't understand what the mention from his psychologist that he was seeing it had to do with this conversation.

“Oh please…” You rolled your eyes, sometimes you forgot that Bucky was born before penicillin. "It means that I'd be crazy if you think I'm going to choose my ex. I like you, James B-"

Bucky leaned forward, crashing his lips against yours and bringing his hands back to your face, your eyes instinctively closed, enjoying the kiss which became more intense and then you both separated, gasping for air, without saying a word...

You two now knew how the other felt.

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes one shot #bucky x female reader

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hanihazeljade · 8 months ago

Text

Three Weeks

As the snow fell into the streets of Gotham, covering her land with white sheet, he stepped out of the plane. He shivers. He missed the deadly coldness of his hometown. The pollution never seemed to change back when he left 7 years ago. He sighed, white mist blowing out of his mouth. He will only need to stay here for three weeks. Three weeks and he will go back to Japan.

After many years of being away to his adopted family, Tim comes back to Gotham for Cassandra and Stephanie's wedding.

(CW: flashbacks, negligence, swear words, a badass Timothy)

Next Part - Three Idiots

Part Three - Three Hopes

Tim looks outside of the bus. His eyes watch the streets of Gotham. Christmas lights are on as it was 5 days away from Christmas. He watched and watched, like he always did, as classical music blasted to his airpods until the bus hit the stop to Bristol.

In all honesty, he could ask Alfred to fetch him but the man is now too fragile to his liking to be doing him favours. He rather takes the 40 minute walk from the station to Wayne Manor. He doesn’t mind the cold, he actually prefers to be freezing every single moment of his life. He doesn’t want to be reminded of the burning desert in Iraq.

With his suitcase on his tow, he started walking to the peaceful street of Bristol. The snow gently falls into his face and quickly melts but some falls into his lashes and brows and he couldn’t bring himself to wipe it off. He likes the small blur on his sight, it shows that he doesn’t have to stay vigilant in this city. Twenty minutes into the walk, he saw the Drake Manor, still in its pristine shape, hopefully. He walked as he tried to look past the gates of the once house of his, snow is piling up but he will be visiting it once he gets his stuff unpacked.

As he starts to get closer and closer to the Wayne Manor, nostalgia hits him. The good memories flood his mind. Bruce giving them a small pat or rarely hugs, Dick trying to spoil all of his siblings, Cass putting glitter bombs to the most unique places together with Stephanie, Jason joking his death again and again, Damian giving them Alfred the Cat as a stress reliever, and Alfred giving them hot cocoa on the worst days and cookies on the best.

But obviously, if it's all just good memories, he will not leave Gotham. The bad to the worst memories starts to resurface. The threat of Arkham, the throat-slitting episode, the pushing to his death story, the I choose to follow Batman rather than to be honest with you thing, the hellish training with Lady Shiva and many more that he couldn’t remember. He shook his head to remove those memories. It’s been more than a decade since that happened and he has healed already. No need to reopen old wounds.

His time in Japan definitely made him more aware that he doesn’t need other people to love him. He can just do it himself. He starts to sleep for more than 6 hours a night. He eats three times a day, sometimes with a balanced diet, sometimes just pure sodium for ramen or just straight up scooping Nutella out of the jar. He now prioritises himself over others. He works for himself and not to get approval from anyone. He is now him, just Tim. A simple Tim that loves to photograph and now be the object of his photographs.

Many things change over the course of time. He forgives the Waynes but he will never call himself one. Waynes never treats him like family, except for Cass, bless her pure heart, and he is now giving it back, the treatment of an acquaintance. Not family. Not friends. But acquaintances. That’s all the Waynes are to him now. Because god forbid that his teenage self is simply obsessed with them. He rolled his eyes on the thought.

As he was letting his thoughts wander, he finally arrived at the prestigious Wayne Manor. The gates are open so he let himself into the other five minute walk of the driveway. As he stared at the old oak wood door, he sighed, trying to compose himself as he will be in their presence for the next three weeks. After trying to console himself, he knocks hoping that it will be Alfred who will open the door for him. After a few minutes of waiting on the porch, the door opened, revealing the foyer of the Manor and Alfred standing in front of him.

“Hi, Alfred.” Tim smiled at the old man.

Alfred, still in shock but smiled back to him, “Welcome back, Master Tim.”

And then suddenly there is a commotion behind Alfred, making the two gentlemen on the doorway look. It shows Damian and Jason. Seems like the two are trying to race to see which one will get to the door first. Childish competitions, like what brothers do. Jason and Damian look at them, first to Alfred and next to Tim. And he looked back at them, giving them a gentle smile.

“Hi, Timmerly. You look different.” Jason spoke out of the blue.

“Thank you, Jason.” He said, “You look different, too.” he added. Jason has indeed changed. The white stripe of hair due to the dip is still there but the face and the body itself evolved. Jason looked taller than he last saw him, The tight wool sweater emphasises the bulk body of Jason. And that face of his, is always exceptional but more relaxed.

There he heard a cough and gave his attention to the person. “Timothy, you look alright.” Damian said, standing in his glorious 6 foot 3. His tanned skin is honeyed perfection and his build is more similar to Bruce and Jason. Green eyes looked at him like it was captivating his soul. The Demon Brat is gone and was replaced by a hulking man.

He was shocked for a fleeting second before replying, “Thank you, Damian.”

“Young Masters, as much as I like that the three of you are conversing like normal human beings, Master Timothy needs to go inside first. It is freezing out there.” Alfred interrupts them and tells Jason and Damian that he is still indeed on the porch. Jason without waiting a moment, went and grabbed his suitcase and he proceeded to go inside the manor.

Tim asked Alfred, “Where will Jason put my suitcase?”

“In your room, Master Tim. I mean, your old room.”

“Oh.” He just said as he took off his scarf and coat and gave it to Alfred, as he left the three on the foyer.

He starts walking into the Manor and walks past the library with the rest that didn’t meet him on the door. Steph and Cass are cuddling each other on the couch while Bruce is on the loveseat fiddling something in the tablet, probably about Wayne Enterprise, and Dick is on one of the bean bags that is scattered in the library. The first one to notice him is Cass, of course.

“Little brother, welcome.” She said as she reached out one of her arms to him. Her acknowledgement of his presence makes everyone in the room aware of his existence.

“Timmy!” Dick shouted as went to him and hugged him. It kinda still startled him a little bit, but he awkwardly hugged Dick back.

Bruce gave him a smile, “Welcome back, Tim.”

Steph hit his back, “When Cass actually told us that you will come for our wedding, we didn’t believe her.“

Tim touched the spot Steph hit, “I would not miss it for the world.” Then he walked to Cass, “Hey, sis.” Cass smiled back at him. “Winter wedding, really?”

“Hey, winter weddings are beautiful. And Cass will look like an angel.”

“And you are the demon that made Cassandra fall down from heaven.” A voice joined them, it’s Damian.

“Hey! That’s mean!”

The chaos and noises are relatively relaxing but when he yawns, he excuses himself. “Going to sleep, Timmy?” He nodded and replied with, “Jetlagged.”

Tim tried to remember where his room was. And thank god, he found it with no anomalies. He entered the room and saw the room that he left. The room is completely gone with cans of energy drinks or packaging of junk foods. The bed is comforting as he remembers, he saw his suitcase next to the nightstand. He opens it and gets a fitted cashmere turtleneck and fleece sweatpants. He took a quick shower and changed. He laid down on the bed and let sleep take him.

He woke up the sun already down and darkness already took the city. He grabbed his phone and looked at what time it was. 8:05 am. Huh?? Oh, his phone is still in the Japanese Time Zone. He quickly changes it and freshens up. He looked at the wide mirror in his bathroom, and assessed himself. He knows he changed when he moved to Japan. His toned body was dissolved into a more lean one. His hair was maintained into a shoulder length, but his hair is shining with a red undertone in the right light. He has an ear piercing. His face was more round and yet still sharp. He got taller but still the smallest to Wayne, even Cass is taller than him. No, he is not salty about it.

He scooped up a handful of water and splashed his face and hair. Once he could feel his rationality and sanity came back to him, he dried his face and went down to the kitchen. He needs something to ingest in his body, anything. He saw Alfred was making something in the kitchen.

“Master Tim, you are finally awake. Will you please call the others for dinner?”

“Sure, Alfred.”

He found everyone in the largest living room. Damian and Dick playing chess, Damian is winning. Stephanie is doing something together with Duke. Bruce is with Cass flipping in the catalogue of whatever they still need to add to the wedding.

“Hey, Alfred told me to get you all. Dinner is ready.”

Dinner is rather peaceful, but rather uncomfortable. Whenever his eyes linger for a little second longer on a dish, Dick is already putting it on his plate. Damian kept on giving him a piece of whatever Damian thought he liked. Jason is spoon feeding him on dishes on what Jason thinks he will like. If this continues, he will be fat and as a model he would rather not have that. The Japanese Modelling World is so strict when it comes to thinness of their own.

But after that dinner, he sighed as walked to his room, he grabbed a velvet box and went to what he thinks is Cass' room.

He knocked, then he opened the door. Waynes are known for just busting your door open before coming in, because apparently, privacy is a social construct. Tim is not a Wayne anymore and also he is one of the decent people who actually knocks before coming inside of someone’s personal space.

“Hey Cass. I got you something.” he said as he looked at his sister.

“What is it?”

Instead of answering, he pulled a velvet box and gave it to Cass. Cass accepts it and opens the blue velvet box, revealing a silver hair comb pin. Cass looked at him with huge eyes. He smiled at his sister, “My mother wore that at her wedding. She says my grandmother and my great grandmother also wear that to their wedding, and I feel like I am not the rightful owner of such a piece.”

Cass hugged him. He missed how tight Cass hugs him. The comfortable warmth that brings pleasant memories only, none of those scorching heat of Iraq. Maybe, maybe he can stay here for three weeks for Cass. For Cass.

#fanfic #dcu #timothy jackson drake #damian wayne #jason todd #bruce wayne #tim drake #cass #steph #dick grayson

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jwsverse · 2 months ago

Text

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 timestamp 23:40

pairing ⁝ park sunghoon x f!reader

synopsis ⁝ a simple deal that was meant to benefit you leads to a heartbreak that you'll never forget.

genre ⁝ angst, fluff if you squint, fake dating typa thing, heeseung is second lead

word count ⁝ 0.7k

author's note ⁝ icl guys i really liked writing this and i lowk am proud of it... pls do give some feedback! negative positive ANYTHINGGG i love hearing people's thoughts about my writing and i love improving!!!

the first time the deal was brought up, you had given in easily. to you, fake dating park sunghoon meant boosting up your popularity and allowing your actual crush, aka lee heeseung, to notice you.

sunghoon only had one reason to be “dating” you, and that was to get his ex off of his back. of course, you didn't really believe him — you thought he wanted to make her jealous, but he always disagreed. he'd try to push the attention back onto you, like how you needed him if you wanted to work out with heeseung and how no one would notice you if sunghoon wasn't there.

he was right. because the moment the two of you walked into school the next morning, hand in hand, it seemed like your name was spurt out everywhere you went. in a span of a week, your followers on social media jumped way too high for it to be real, and people started slipping love notes into your locker.

it was nice, you admit, to have the attention of other people and to have them wanting you. it was nice when lee heeseung finally took noticed of you at sunghoon's frat party and proceeded to chat with you for a good half an hour. it was nice when he somehow found your instagram and followed you first. it was really nice when he invited you to his basketball game a few weeks later with that charming smile of his and you had decided to go with sunghoon (because he said it'd be weird if he let his supposedly girlfriend go to a game alone). it was really, really nice when you caught him staring at you and sunghoon making out at another party for show (so he could make his ex jealous, you think).

heeseung made your heart skip beats, made your stomach flutter with a whole damn zoo, made your mind go haywire every time he gave you that damn gorgeous smile.

it was horrible, however, when you found yourself enjoying your kiss with sunghoon, rather than the moment of jealousy heeseung seemed to possess when you spoke to him after the kiss. it was annoying when you started to look for sunghoon around school and attending his ice hockey games instead of heeseung's.

it was a fucking pity, when heeseung had decided to ask you out after one of your classes, and you found yourself saying, “can i think about it?” when throughout freshmen year, this was the moment you have dreamed of. instead, when you got home, you found yourself thinking, “what would sunghoon think? would he care?”

thoughts of sunghoon consumed your entire mind and being and you ended up ignoring both heeseung's and sunghoon's text due to how overwhelmed you felt.

you only got your answer 2 hours before class on monday, when sunghoon stood outside your dorm room with your favorite tea because he knew you hated coffee. he had an almost blank expression, but the corner of his lips were slightly tipped upwards.

as compared to heeseung who always made you nervous, sunghoon brought you peace. he never made your hands shake and your breath hitch, but rather you could be comfortable with him — always easily holding onto his arm and laughing with all your might. you could think straight and say whatever you wanted to say, you could say the first thing that came to mind, rather than second guess your words.

heeseung was a crush, sunghoon... he was home.

you had accepted sunghoon's cup of tea and easily slipped your palm into his, fingers intertwining like puzzle pieces fitting perfectly together. the both of you walked to school amidst the chilly autumn, hand in hand and words laced with playfulness.

you had never felt so happy.

when the both of you walked into school and the same people whisper about how the both of you were still together, your home crumbled.

because whilst you had assumed sunghoon was leaning into your to peck your cheek affectionately, which he did, he had also leaned into your ear to whisper with a gracious chuckle you had grown to love.

“we're really good at pretending to be in love, don't you think?”

it was heartbreaking, really, when sunghoon had reminded you so cruelly, that he didn't love you the way you loved him.

#k-labels #𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ shelf #enhypen x reader #enhypen #enhypen x you #enhypen x y/n #enhypen sunghoon #park sunghoon #park sunghoon x you #park sunghoon x y/n #park sunghoon x reader #park sunghoon fics #sunghoon x you #sunghoon x y/n #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon fics

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the-goddess-of-mischief-writing · 1 year ago

Note

ok i know you haven’t written possessive price yet and i genuinely can’t remember what i wrote in the ask and i feel like i’m gonna write the same thing but the roles are switched but idc…but imagine possessive sunshine!reader…like price is a good looking dude and imagine he gets hit on at marissa’s bar IN FRONT OF THE READER AND/OR MARISSA and price is doing his best at trying to get the last away from him but she just won’t fuck off

Soulmate Sour

Summary; When someone flirts with Price you take it into your own hands to let them know he's off the market.

Pairing: Cpt. John Price x reader (sunshine!universe)

Rating: Mature

CHAPTER NO/ONESHOT: Onehsot

Word; 3.2k

Warnings; alcohol consumption (drink in moderation), possessiveness, hints at suggestive themes

Author; @the-goddess-of-mischief-writing

A/N: so I adjusted this just slightly but the main parts are still there, hope you enjoy nonnie<3

You chat with Johnny, his left arm slung behind Marissa on the couch's backrest. Meanwhile, your friend is talking to Kyle. For once, you aren't at the Pearl. Marissa decided to close her place earlier for your group to enjoy a night out where she could join in. Perks of being the owner and controlling closing times, as she said.

It's still early for a Friday, only 9 p.m. There were two more hours before the pub you'd find your way to closed.

It was a much more traditional place than Marissa's. Dark, gloomy, food-to-the-drinks kind of place that half of the population would stop by on their way home from work. And your company wasn't entirely different.

Tonight wasn't a return-from-deployment night. It was a simple get-together after work that John asked if you wanted to tag along to, Johnny having done the same to Marissa. Despite having planned a girl's dinner, the boys had been scattered for a few weeks, most of them back on active duty like John, and tonight was the first time most found their way back to town from wherever so the get-together had been something you couldn't pass up on.

However, rather than fixing yourself to the somewhat special evening when John had knocked on your door, you'd greeted him with your computer in hand and a brief wave. A meeting with one of your clients ran longer than anticipated.

In the end, Joh waited 40 minutes for you to finish, giving you no time to change out of your work attire if the two of you didn't want to run unfashionably late.

You'd managed to reach the pub just as the others arrived. It was lucky you'd chosen a place that served food, seeing how your last meal had been lunch. Which, at the time, had been over six hours ago.

Your stomach had rumbled enough for Marissa to dig her finger into your side, asking if 'the workaholic cares for herself' in that partly teasing, partly serious tone. However, with everyone's plate of favoured dinner polished clean of food soon after finding a table -aside from Ghost who, when you asked, said 'don't fancy eating around other people, so ate earlier'- the soft feeling of fullness had eased your stomach.

Not soon after the dinner, and before the plates got cleared from the table, John had patted your thigh.

You'd been in the midst of your conversation with Johnny as you momentarily had turned to face the one seeking your attention.

'Gonna get somethin' to drink. You want anythin'?' John had asked once you turned to face him. 'Same old', you'd answered and he'd only nodded, squeezing your thigh before he slid out of the curved booth.

What brought you out of the thought 'he's been gone for a while now' was when the Scotsman trailed off in his sentence, his eyes perched over your shoulder rather than face, remaining pinned to something behind you.

Your brows knitted together, head cocking slightly at his sudden shift of attention. The minimal reaction to his strayed conversation was enough to make the Scotsman's face you again.

Something new had entered his eyes and you gave him a questioning look.

"Hate to say it to ye, lass, but old Price seems popular". Johnny nodded forward, motioning to whatever he spotted earlier.

Just as you shift to follow his gaze, a second voice momentarily stops your movement.

"Don't go rippin' a head". Your eyes flicker to Ghost sitting across from you. The man had apparently also noticed whatever Johnny motioned towards as his brown eyes shifted to you.

You only smiled back. "Don't worry".

Ghost only shrugs, eyes falling back to what he'd watched earlier and you finally turn towards whatever both men now observed.

It's easy to find John. His stature is not hard to miss.

He's standing by the bar, presumably having ordered the drinks he set out to do for you two. But, rather than staring at his broad back as he leans against the bar leisurely, waiting for the drinks to be served. John's standing straight, one hand resting on the bar, the other shoved in his pocket. His posture is tense enough that you note it across the room and if you would've been closer, you probably would've seen his jaw work too, as it often does when he's on edge.

The reason? A woman. She's talking to him, flirting with him.

You see it all the way from here despite not hearing a word she says, her body language screaming her intentions. She's smiling, head cocked to the side, her hand resting on the bar not far from John's. She isn't touching him. Still, she's standing close, closer than what's generally considered talking distance for strangers. Her upper body is leaning towards him, breaking John's personal bubble.

Your brows rise at the scene, your body turning towards the pair. Maybe Ghost was right with his comment as a sudden sour feeling fills your mouth. Despite this, you bite your tongue, remaining put as you watch the scene closely.

It doesn't take long, not even two minutes, before you spot what you only had a hunch would happen.

At something the woman says, John's head and upper body instinctively lean away from her before the rest of his body follows. He rolls his shoulder as he turns, his side facing her while replying. All the while, he attempts to step around the stool that previously prevented any smooth exit of putting distance between himself and his forced company.

The move signalled two things. John didn't try to hide that he didn't enjoy the woman's presence anymore and wanted to end the primarily one-sided conversation. And, he needed help, not because you doubted him but because the woman followed his step with one of her own.

You scoffed. Apparently, the woman was fucking blind if she didn't understand the signal.

"I'll be back", you said to Johnny and Ghost, both having turned to look at you upon what transpired. You slide from the booth, rising to your feet once at the edge.

"Go get her, lass". There was a big grin on the Scot's face, but you ignored it as you started walking towards the bar.

"Don't do anythin' I would". You hear the Englishman warn from behind, to which you raise a few fingers in recognition and a departing gesture.

As you weave between tables and occupied chairs, your eyes never leave John and the woman. She sweeps her dark hair over her shoulder, showing off more of the plunging neckline meant to draw eyes. You almost laugh when she frowns upon noticing it didn't have the desired effect, but you catch yourself in the last second.

Slowing your step, you switch to look at John. His exasperation with the situation is humouring enough that the gentle smile you let spread isn't forced.

"Hi, how's the drinks going?" John's head snaps ironically fast towards you, his body swivelling to face you rather than the bar. In the corner of your eye, you note how the woman's attention switch to you.

When you get closer, John pulls his hand out of his pocket and raises his arm, letting you sidle up to him. His hand lands upon your shoulder, making the two of you shift together when he turns to look down the bar. In the new position, you naturally face the woman, but at the moment, you don't look at her, focusing on John as his eyes drop back to you as he speaks.

"Soon done, love", he mutters. His voice is strained, annoyed. You don't need to guess because of what, or rather, who.

You circle your left arm around his waist, finally looking forwards, feigning realisation when you meet the woman's gaze.

"Oh, hello", you greet her with raised brows, catching the sour expression twisting her features for a split second. "Are you an acquaintance of John?"

You motion between the woman and the man at your side, pointing out their closer-than-strangers proximity. Upon the question, the dark-haired woman steps backwards to not stand as close to you.

"You're his girl". Your head cocks at the short remark and complete disregard of your greeting.

Satisfaction spreads through you at her response, but you only let the gentle smile continue to play on your lips. "I am, and you are?"

"Kathleen", she puffed out her chest, chin jutting upwards, eyes straying towards John before shifting back to you.

"Pleasure", you return with a nod just as the bartender puts your drinks on the counter. "But, if you excuse us, our company is waiting". Your eyes stray to the glasses to push your point.

"I was talking to John when you interrupted". His name is purred from her lips as if knowing it meant everything to her and should bother you. You look back at her with creased brows, a questioning look directed towards her. She must have taken it for displeasure rather than astonishment at what she thought she was attempting, as a smug smile spread on her lips. "And he never mentioned you".

Instantly, John tenses beneath your touch while his arm tightens around your shoulders. This time, you scoff. Did she really think that implied he was... what? Open to cheating because of that?

Your reaction makes John's head tilt downwards. You know he wants you to look up at him from how intently he's looking at you, but you don't face him, instead staring straight back at the woman.

"And yet, you don't assume I'm anything else than his girl when I join him? If you didn't already have a hunch, why didn't you just suppose I'm his thing?" You question with a smile. Her mouth opens and closes, caught off guard by your reaction to what evidently was an attempt at winding you up. Clearly, she didn't get the response she desired.

She sneers. "Well, maybe you are because he didn't object to it". She makes a sharp motion with her hand towards John to defend whatever her definition of it implied.

You can feel how he heats up at your side, his already warm body boiling from how she addressed you and what you know is a false statement. You'd seen it yourself. That's why you can't help but chuckle, stepping away from John towards the bar.

His arms remain around you for as long as possible until he begrudgingly lets it fall. When John doesn't touch you any longer, the air shifts violently. Tension immediately bleeds into the air.

"Be my guest then", you nod towards John as you grab your drinks, catching how not only the women's eyes widen at what you said. "If you want to get turned down a second or even third time, that is. Because from what I saw, my man isn't interested in you and tried to respectfully show that without dropping my name. Which should be enough anyways, don't you think?" You continue as you turn to face her.

The same smile you'd carried the entire conversation now flashed brighter towards the dark-haired woman, who sputters in bewilderment. Satisfied with her stunned expression and being tongue-tied, you turn towards John, whose eyes apparently never left you.

"You ready?" His blues shift so violently that it feels like they go from black to white when you offer him his beer. He takes his drink from your offered hand with his right one only to intertwine the fingers of his left with it instead. You take the hint. "Have a good evening, Kathleen". You bid her goodbye without turning to face her, missing how the perplexed woman follows the two of you, stunned when John tags along with an ease she'd found impossible to evoke.

As your back is turned to the woman, you finally spit at her in your mind. Fucking bitch.

You hadn't noticed, but you took your first deep breath in a long time when taking a similar route back to the others as you had previously done to the bar. That was until there was a tug at your hand.

You slow, twisting your head to look over your shoulder at John, only for him to twirl you around and into his chest before you manage. Some of your drink spill over your fingers, but you don't care about it the second his handsome smile and blue eyes greet you.

"Do you know how much more attractive you just got?" None of the previous tension lace his voice, only a lilt that reflects his lightened expression.

"What?" You ask, a bit dumbfounded, still mentally cursing the woman for how shitty she'd acted. Women empowering women, they say. Not those types of women.

John's eyes flicker over your face before settling to meet your gaze with a smirk. "Haven't seen you this possessive before". Your mouth drops open before you bite your lower one as it curls inwards.

"Don't like someone trying things on you", you mumble, shrugging as you continue. "Especially when they don't show some respect".

Your eyes widen when you suddenly feel John duck, attaching his mouth to yours. Though he catches you off-guard, you fall into the kiss soon enough, his big hand releasing yours to tilt your face.

He's warm, overwhelmingly passing the sensation into your body. You feel the last bit of resentment towards the woman leave you as John forces her out of your mind, replacing the mental place she'd occupied with himself.

The bristle of his beard brushing your lower face contrasts with how he gently cups your cheek. His beard oil and cologne fill your nostrils in a blend of something nutty and musky.

You're putty in his grasp and can't help the silly smile spreading when he nipps your lower lip when pulling back.

"Appreciate it, love", John chuckles, gazing at you with an upwards curve of his mouth. "And the confidence suits you", he adds.

"Need to have some when dating your handsome face". You tap his bearded cheek with your index finger with a cocked head and smile.

"This handsome face only has eyes for one woman". You dip your head with a shake, momentarily needing to escape his intense eyes as his hand falls to the small of your back. His fingers teasingly press into the area.

"Let's go back to the others". You nod backwards when you raise your head again. John agrees with a nod and a final peck before he guides you towards your table.

"Putting on a show, are you Price?" Kyle greets you with a smug look as you come closer. John only shrugs in return, not bashful about the action but not keen on discussing it. Everyone watches you as you retake your place, sliding into the booth first. John follows soon after, seating himself close enough that his side presses against yours.

Marissa leans forward, her forearms crossed upon the table. She sends you an amused and knowing look, one you roll your eyes at, understanding the whole table must have followed the spectacle.

Like the smile your friend flashes, Johnny harbours a similar grin as when you'd left.

"About time ya get someone who acts as yer saviour, Captain". The Scotsman remarks while he nudges his shoulder with yours, giving you a playful wink. This time, John huffs amusedly and you presume it's an inside joke as you catch the low chuckle escaping Ghost and Kyle.

The comment swung them into a new conversation with countless ribbings. You can't help but shake your head at their antics as you listen to their chatter with your glass in hand.

Sipping your drink, you melt into the seat, head resting against the shoulder of John's non-dominant side.

It had been a long and, by your standard, stressful day. It had taken a toll on you mentally more than physically. The only downside with not having an ordinary one-to-five, in your opinion. John asking you to tag along to this outing was just what you needed at the end of the day to be able to wind down, aside from one inconvenience.

The timing couldn't be any better as you suddenly feel someone staring. Your eyes sweep over the other occupants of the table before travelling further. You don't need to look for long until you find the source.

The same woman from earlier sits by the bar, your eyes locking when your attention falls upon her. You raise your brows, huffing more out of pity than annoyance as you take another sip of your drink.

Holding her stare, you don't hesitate to shift in your seat and cross your leg over your own and John's. You sit slanted towards him now, your leg resting comfortably over his thigh, dangling between his legs.

His response is immediate, his body aligning more towards you as he settles his left hand just above your knee.

"You get awfully touchy when tryin' to make a point to someone". John whispers as he ducks his head, breath skimming the shell of your ear.

You smile against the rim of your glass, noticing how the woman's face scrunches upon noting your intimate proximity. The reaction is enough to spot from your position. "How'd you know?"

"I'm a soldier. I'm trained to always be attentive to my surroundings", he hums in response, still keeping his head low enough so only you catch his words. "Likewise, to read someone's intentions. Gotten good enough to rival your skill when it comes to you". He humours you with a low chuckle. The rough sound sends a shiver down your spine as your eyes drop to his thumb, which begins a circling motion on your leg.

Your head tilts upwards, John accommodating by angling his head to catch what you say. "Well, good job, Captain". Your eyes momentarily lock with the women once more as John leans away, shielding your view as he stiffens upon hearing his rank being purred against the shell of his ear. But, you catch the reaction you wanted always, the woman promptly turning away.

Your eyes now meet gaze back at those blues focusing on you keenly.

Yes, John had gotten to know you quite a bit, your ticks and tells. But he indulged you in just as much.

You give him a coy smile and fall back slightly, resting your back against the couch again as you return his gaze.

John levels you with a firm look, hiking your leg slightly higher on his leg, signalling if you continue, this evening will definitely be cut short.

You only smile sweetly at him before you turn your upper body away, engaging yourself in the conversation with the rest. Upon catching his muted sigh, you sip your drink to stop yourself from grinning.

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