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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 12 days ago

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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, familial judgement/bullying, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your mother invites a lonely coworker to Thanksgiving, a bit too lonely.

Characters: Andy Barber

Note: this is the second of my autumn fics as decided by all of you!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

The smell of nutmeg hits you as you enter the house. That and the garble of voices. You take your time as you unlace your boots, keeping your jacket on as the rack is already overflowing with the like. You mentally ready yourself to face your famiiy and their annual judging panel.

You peek into the front room as you keep a firm hold of the boxed pies you grabbed from your favourite bakery in the city. You promised dessert and you brought it. You'll put them down before you wade in the deep end.

You enter the kitchen, rehearsing your greeting for your mother, but you're met with a stranger's back. He stands at the counter, scraping cranberry sauce from a saucepan into a serving dish. His brown hair is combed back neatly, though you can only see the ends from your vantage, and he wears a pressed shirt too white for the task at hand.

You hesitate. Where the heck is your mom? You can't see the man's face but you can tell he's a bit too young for her. Or so you would assume. He could be a cousin's boyfriend and yet he might be a bit above that.

"Um, hi," you say as you approach the end of the island counter, well away from him, "I'm looking for my mom."

"Your mom? Doris?" He wonders.

"Yeah," you answer as you set the pies on the counter. "I know I'm a little late..."

"She just went to grab something from the cellar," he explains. "I'm Andy--"

"There she is," your mom sweeps in with her seasonal gravy dish. "Mm, I knew you'd bring store bought."

"They're from a local bakery."

"You never did like being in the kitchen," she reprimands. "Oh, Andrew, that looks perfect. Not too runny."

You glance at the man. This strange man draws praise from her like honey from a comb, whereas you find the task as easy as squeezing juice from a stone. You let it roll off your back like you have for years.

"I got pumpkin, apple crumble, and some pecan. They usually sell out of that." You say.

"Ooh, pecan," the man, Andy, says.

"Oh, Andrew, my younger daughter," your mother introduces you as an afterthought as she goes to wash the gravy boat, "The typist."

"Typist? Mom, I'm an admin assistant," you counter. "I guess it doesn't matter."

"Just her, I'm afraid," she shuts off the faucet. "And her pies. No grandkids from her yet."

You see that this year is going to be just like the last. You're better off facing the rabble of aunts and uncles waiting for you in the front room. Heck, the kids' table might be the place for you.

"Thirty this year," your mother adds.

You force a tight-lipped smile. When you were a kid, it was your grades or the stubborn bit of hair at the back of your head or that your sister, Tia, did it better. Now you're an adult, it's your lack of ambition or lack of kids. You don't think you lack the former and you don't really want the latter. Life is what it is. You have a job that pays your bills and you don't need to add to your cost of living.

"I work with your mom." He offers. You look at him again.

He’s tall, blue-eyed, distinguished. He’s older but carries it well enough. The thin lines around his eyes only add to his looks, and his thick beard further defines his jaw.

"Oh, the law firm?"

"He's a new partner," your mother preens. "Oh, he gave your brother some good advice too. Hopefully he can move out of that public office soon enough."

Right, Rodney does everything right. He got into law, just like your mother told him too, and he has a pretty house and a pretty wife and three spoiled brats. Tia only has the one and a husband who works out of town every weekend. They're real grown-ups but to you, growing up seems boring.

Your life isn't glamourous. You do diamond art or catch-up on the last issue of your favourite comic when you're not too tired. You get takeout once a week, otherwise you put the ready-made meals in the microwave and eat it in front of the television. It's not special but it's your life.

"Public defenders do a service to the community," Andy says. "I did it for twenty years. It's not bad work. He can move up."

"Mm, and yet you moved to a private firm," your mother challenges him.

"Maybe you should be partner," he chortles at her playfully as he wipes his hands on the tails of the borrowed apron tied around his torso.

"My mom makes really good stuffing," you say, "I'm sure you'll enjoy it, even if you're not home for the holiday." You drag your feet along the tile, "I'm going to say hello to Auntie Toya."

"Good luck. She's in one of her moods," your mother tuts. "Must be menopause."

You leave before she can aim another snipe in your direction. She can't help but let the bullets fly and see where they hit. It might be thanksgiving, but you're struggling to find much to be grateful for.

🍂

"Mandy has a Christmas recital. I'll be sending the invite in the family chat," Tia, your sister, proclaims. "If you can make it, she'd be so happy, huh, sweetie?"

She pets behind her daughter's ear and makes her giggle. Every awes and cooes at the little girl. Just like when your sister was her age, she's the princess of the family.

"I can try to bring the kids," Rodney says. "We're thinking to get Kelly into dance next year. I need to get used to those things."

Everyone laughs. You're not very amused. You're happy the kids have hobbies, that they are doing interesting things, but you just don't care that much. Still, your happy to be able to fade into the background.

"I'm sure your sister can make it," your mother says, bring you back into the universe, "she doesn't have anything else going on."

Your eyes dart back and forth. Your mouth is full of potatoes. You gulp painfully.

"I can set the date aside. I still have some vacation left," you choke out. You can't make up an excuse with a whole audience to call you out.

You sink back into silence as Tia goes on about the show. They're doing The Nutcracker. Oh joy. You were never a fan. Why can't they do something fun, like The Grinch?

"Don't think I'm included in that invite," Andrew says under his breath from your left shoulder. As the two loners at the table, you're put together. "Kinda awkward."

He chuckles, trying to ease the tension. You shift and hide your embarrassment. You forgot there was a complete stranger here to witness your judgement.

"Right, well... I'm sure you have enough going on," you say.

"I'm sure you do too," he pokes at the yams. "Kids keep you busy but life is already hectic."

"Sure," you agree dully. You don't want to be rude. "you have kids?"

"One. A son. Grown. He went to his girlfriend's for the holiday and his mom... is not in town."

"Bad timing," you take another bite of potatoes. Maybe next year you can come down with a timely case of the flu.

"Don't be silly. She doesn't have a boyfriend. We'd all know," your mother trills with laughter. You pop your head up as the hairs on your neck tingle. You know she means you before you even catch her gaze. "It'd be such an achievement, she'd have to shout it from the rooftops."

You lost track of the conversation and you're not sure how you became the butt of the joke, but you're tired. It's supposed to be a day for family but it just feels like you're being cast out of yours. You put your fork down.

"I'm going to clear my plate. Think I had too big a snack on the drive here," you stand, gritting back your irritation. "As usual, stuffing's delicious."

You get up and make your way along the table. The silence is dense. Oh well. If they want to make this painful, you can do the same.

You go to the kitchen and find a container. You scrape your leftovers into it and shake your head. You suppose you are behind. You're thirty years old. Next year you'll be thirty-one and her chiding will be even louder. The ticking of the clock will only ger worse as the years go by.

"You're right, stuffing's good," Andy says.

You wince and glance over your shoulder. "Uh, yeah. Like I said, think my eyes were bigger than my stomach."

He comes up next to you and rinses off his plate, "well, I think my stomach would be turning too after that."

"It's whatever," you shrug.

"Thirty isn't old. You got time," he says.

"Thanks," you reply tersely.

"Not that it's any of my business."

You're silent. It isn't but you're not going to be rude enough to say that out loud. Unlike the rest of your family, you can keep your thoughts to yourself. They might think you're immature because you're not living behind a white picket fence, but at least you don't act like a teenager.

"It's better to take your time. You know, you rush into big decisions and you can't undo them. They don't always turn the way people promise," he says. "You follow that road map, take one wrong turn and you're wife's spending Thanksgiving with her 'work husband' at a hotel." He opens the dishwasher and wedges his plate between the metal, "Work husband, secret boyfriend, you know..."

You're struck by the revelation. You can hear the tension in his voice. The hurt, the anger.

"Oh, I'm sorry," you utter dumbly.

"You're sorry? She isn't," he reaches for your plate and rinses it next. "I'm not telling you because I want you to feel bad for me. I guess I'm trying to commiserate. It could be worse." He adds your plate to the washer, "you're doing nothing wrong. Being alone means you have choices. Being tied to someone... you have obligations."

"Yeah, sounds about right," you say. "Well, thanks. Not to benefit off your pain but yeah." You put the lid on the tupperware and sidle along to put it in the fridge, "I think I'm going to get some fresh air. Getting a bit overcrowded in here."

"A little," he agrees.

You leave and hold your breath until you get to the front door. Who knew the stranger at the table would be the only one to make you feel welcome?

You grab your coat from the guest room and push your feet into your boots at the front door. You go outside into the brisk air. It's actually nice. Refreshing almost.

You sit on the porch bench. In the colder months, it's rarely used. It hasn't snowed yet but the frost glistening on the grass is foreboding.

You tuck your hands into your sleeves and look along the street. The other houses with yellow windows, glowing with the warmth and shadow of happy families. This time of year has only ever been stressful to you. You're never a part of the fun, you're usually the source of it.

The front door opens and you fight to keep your unease under wraps. You don't need your mom lecturing you. Again. Or Tia telling you not to be jealous. Whatever happens is always your fault.

"Whew, it's cold," Andy's voice eases your nerves as it assures you it isn't who you fear.

"Yep, I don't mind. It's the only thin I like about this time of year."

"Really?" He nears and sits on the other end of the bench. "I'm a summer person, I guess. Used to be we'd go to some resort for New Years." He says.

"Sounds nice," you say.

"I know. I'm moaning about a luxury," he scoffs, "trust me, I get it. I got it all, what do I got to whine about?"

"I wouldn't say that. You never know what people have going on."

"Nope," he agrees and rubs his hands together. He's quiet as he leans forward, resting his elbows on his legs. He bends and unbends his fingers as he examines them then sits up again. "Brrr. Only good thing about this weather, snuggle weather."

He laughs. You try to. It's an awkward joke.

"Maybe I should get a cat," he suggests.

"Maybe," you clutch your hands tight. You should go inside. You know he's being nice but he's ruined the moment.

Your teeth chatter as you take a deep breath of the late autumn air. Just a little longer before you go back. You close your eyes.

The bench creaks and you think he's getting up. He must get the hint. Instead, as you open your eyes, you feel a weight across your shoulders. You flinch and peek at him from the corner of your eye.

"You're shivering," he says.

You look at him then back to the road. You should pull away but you can't. It feels mean.

"God, my hands are so cold," he grips your shoulder as he puts his other hand on your thigh.

"Woah," you catch his thick fingers.

"Come on, let's get warmed up," he breaks through your resistance and rubs your leg.

"Alright, I don't know what you think--"

"What's so wrong about it? Like trains passing through the night. My wife's cheating, you're single, we could have some fun," he purrs as he holds you against him.

"Um, no thanks," you grab his fingers again. "I'm flattered but--"

"Shh, shh," he peels his hand away from your leg, once more evading your grasp, and grabs your chin. "Your mom told me all about it. How you can't get a date--"

"That's not--" you latch onto his wrist, "stop, please, Andy."

"Come on," he turns your head and nuzzles your nose with his, "I'm so fucking lonely. My wife hasn't touched me in over a year."

"Your wife-- Andy," you hiss.

"Just kiss me, please? That's all I want. Just a little affection. To feel wanted."

"You're-- stop. Let go of me," you try to dislodge his hold on you. He's too strong.

He tilts his head and presses his lips to yours. You murmur and slep his chest with your other hands. He hooks his arm around you as he angles you toward him. You writhe and bite his lip.

He gasps and pulls back, keeping you locked in his embrace, "listen, sweetheart, you wanna play hard-to-get," he squeezes your jaw until you whimper, "what's mom gonna think when she catches you all over her married coworker?"

"No, that's not--"

"I'm sure she'll believe you," he snarls and slides his hand down to your throat.

"Why..." you croak.

"Baby, please, it's not a bad thing," he moves you with him as he edges off the bench. He turns, one arm still around you, his other hand locked onto your neck. He bends and forces you onto your back as he settles over you. "I'm going to make you feel just as good as you make me feel."

You wriggle and whine. What he says is just as scary as what he hasn't said. He'll make you feel as good as you do him, or as bad.

#andy barber #dark andy barber #dark!andy barber #andy barber x reader #one shot #fic #autumn #defending jacob

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strayrockette · 4 months ago

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The Dragon & The Griffon

Where The Path Leads-A Taste

Masterlist Next Chapter

a/n: I didn't think I would be coming back with a story and to be completely honest, I fully believed my creative drive had been zapped. However, @mysticalpandora gave me a challenge and it somehow led me here???? I'm gonna roll with it. My list of unfinished drafts is growing, but I am determined to finish at least 1 WIP.

If anyone is interested in where this ride goes, DM me and ask to be tagged. Like & Reblog if you enjoyed the read! And comment your thoughts if you have any. I enjoy reading them!!

Her purple eyes glitter with quiet contemplation. She is calm, composed, absolutely beautiful, he thinks to himself. His calculative and appraising eyes take stock of this daring girl no woman that stands before him, and deep within him is a hunger for a hunt.

The Na-Baron had yet to come across someone who could stand so still within his presence.

This excites him. This may be a season of true satiation. A thrill of a hunt that lasted far beyond his arena kills. Far beyond the meager missions, his uncle sends him on to create distance from his people’s adoration and praise. A reminder that he is yet to be The Baron.

His uncle was not immune to his potential. He held a guarded edge around him when he was near. If it was true fear, or anticipation for his succession was unclear. One could say both.

“If you should use my gifts to aid in your fight, I will have my answer.” She stares directly into his eyes. Her jaw is relaxed and she pulls her lips into a teasing smile, “Worry not, Na-Baron, I can take no for an answer.”

He bares his black teeth in a mock smile, his answer comes in a raspy deep lull, “The answer has already been decided for us, little dragon”

He looks at the two deep ebony daggers that sit neatly in the box she had placed on the high table in the corner of the room, its sharpened blades glowing in the dim light of his changing rooms near the arena. The excited screams of his people chanting his name break the silence.

The tip of the dagger's, curve near its end. All along the blade is an engraving of silhouettes, tiny dragons flapping their wings. He realizes the engravings are shining silver.

He knows no one in the boxed seatings would be able to tell what the engravings were but he almost purrs outwardly in delight. A silent claim from his little dragon. He wonders if she realizes just what game she’s playing.

“Yes, however..” She pauses, her eyes drop to her clasped hands, her fingertips tapping against each other, a sign of nervousness, he notes. As if hearing his observation she stops and rearranges her hands so they are clasped behind her. “While this arrangement was decided before we were born, I want it to be known that I am not unwilling to be your wife or have you as my husband”

She pauses once more. He can practically hear her thinking with the way her eyes furrow and her lips pursed in consideration of the words she says. Because words have meaning and none of it should be spent on idle chit-chat or false pretenses.

A rare oddity that most others fail to recognize. He wonders if her words are hiding who she is. If beneath her elegant and calm demeanor lies something weaker. Something inside him wants to see her unravel.

“If we are to go into this arrangement, I would like for us to go into it as equal partners. Your fight becomes my fight, and mine becomes yours.” She moves to the side to dip her fingers into the bowl of black oil. The servant who holds it cowers away, as if afraid to be associated with her candor.

She’s gathered too much, it drips onto the floor as she nears him slowly. Her eyes are entranced with his, determination clear within her purple irises. One step. There is no hesitation as she smears her hand over her mouth and down her neck. Two steps. The oil leaves a trace of four fingerprints along the path. Three steps. She reaches out to his chest. Her fingers hovered over his skin. He can feel the heat radiating from a single hand. His blue eyes hunger for more but he remains still. His mocking smile turns into amusement. My little dragon is brave, he thinks with pride.

She pouts as a thought crosses her mind, “No one would see it.” She doesn’t realize she has said this aloud. He watches with rapid anticipation, his body grows taut as he wills himself not to move. He waits and waits and watches as she comes to a decision, her cheeks red and eyes mischievous. She gathers courage and motivation with quick movements, and her hands are suddenly on him. Trailing the top of his chest, then to his neck, finally, they nestle comfortably on either side of his face. She tugs gently, urging him to bend to her level and he allows it, purely for the entertainment.

His face is level with hers, his eyes are on her face, studying the curve of her nose, the red in her cheeks, the plumpness of her lips, and the giddy look in her violet eyes. He wants her to make eye contact. He wants her to see the monster inside him and fear for her life. He wants to see her calm demeanor slip. For her teasing tone to melt into cries of terror. It's all he knows. And he admires hates how she has yet to cower before him. But she is too busy studying the right of his cheek where her lips will claim him for all to see. She leans and presses a kiss to his aching skin.

He tightens his mouth and remains still, it would do no good to ravage her before their nuptials.

She pulls away and continues her statement, “Even if it has been decided, the fact remains that I choose you to be faithful to, to be by my side. For better or for worse, in sickness and in health. In life and in death, my soul will always seek you amongst the billions of stars and galaxies that separate us.”

He wants to snarl and bite. A part of him cannot comprehend what she is saying and he is angry. He glares, his large hands coming up to wrap around her wrists and he pulls them away from him. His skin is left wanting and his heart is enraged. It’s beating so fast and erratically and his thoughts cannot settle between slitting her throat and slamming her into a wall to be consumed by him.

“What silly nonsense you speak, little dragon. Whether I pick up the blades or not and use them in the arena, is no answer. Whether by choice or by force, you have been sold to my family for me to use as I please. You are my pet. My little dragon. Nothing more, nothing less.” As he speaks his voice gravels with rage. He knows nothing else other than the white hot boiling blood beneath his skin. Whether in pleasure or pain, there is no difference. “You are naive”

He finishes his growl with a sneer. She stumbles and her maids rush to catch her from behind. I pushed him too far, she concludes. She holds in a sigh and holds her head higher. Her chin juts out and her eyes gleam. A thought crosses her mind and a fire burns within, “If I’m so naive, then my dearest husband-to-be, it is YOUR duty to protect me.”

She cares not for his comment about being sold to House Harkonnen. In the grand plan of all things, it is the least of her worries.

He’s turned away from her and the servants, who hid quietly in the corner, rush to put his armor on. He merely grunts and clicks his tongue, “Be gone little dragon, before you find a knife in your throat”

She wants to scoff but thinks better of it. She’s gotten away with too much in the short time she burst into his changing room to accost him with her offer. She steels herself and with a quick glance at his muscled back. She wonders if she’d ever be able to get through that thick bald skull of his.

She turns and leaves, and her two maids follow dutifully. Her lips glitter with the black oil. Her four fingerprints running down to her chest is a statement in itself. The matching handprint and kiss on his skin are enough to get her message to all with eyes.

She’s sunk her claws into him and no one would tear her from him. She’s seen too much. Knows too much. Suffered too much to give up now.

No Bene gesserite, no Emperor, no Baron, and no Atreides would rip them apart. She would die faithfully, clinging onto hope, clinging onto a path with the most resistance to prove a point.

A dragon does not kneel…

it conquers.

Edited: 8/18/24

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rafedarling · 3 months ago

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𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞

pairing: actor!rafe cameron x actress!reader summary: in which you and rafe doing an interview with vogue to talk about yours and rafe life after the wedding warning: english is not my native language. fluff au: should i make this into a series?. any discussion can be send through my ask box, and please feel free to send in anything. taglist

like, reblog and comment are much appreciated 🥹

The morning sunlight poured through the large bay windows of your shared apartment, bathing everything in a soft golden hue. You and Rafe were sitting at the kitchen island, sipping coffee from your favorite mugs, your legs intertwined under the table. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, mingling with the scent of the sanwiches Rafe had made—a weekend ritual that had quickly become a cherished tradition.

It had been a few months since your wedding, and you were both still getting used to the idea of being husband and wife. Life was a beautiful blur of shared moments, spontaneous adventures, and an underlying sense of contentment that neither of you had ever experienced before. The demands of your acting careers were ever-present, but you had found a way to balance work with the joys of newlywed life.

Just as you were about to suggest taking a walk in the nearby park, Rafe's phone buzzed on the counter. He reached for it, his brows furrowing slightly as he read the notification.

"Who is it?" you asked, curious.

"It's our publicist," Rafe replied, a hint of surprise in his voice. "We’ve been invited to do a feature for Vogue—they want us to answer the most asked questions about us on Google."

Your eyes widened in excitement. "Vogue? That's incredible! What kind of questions are they talking about?"

Rafe scrolled through the email. "You know, the usual stuff—how we met, what it's like working together, and… other more personal things."

You leaned closer, your interest piqued. "Personal? Like what?"

He glanced at you with a knowing smile. "Like when we’re planning to start a family."

You laughed, shaking your head. "Of course, everyone wants to know about that. Do you want to do it?"

Rafe set his phone down and looked at you with that warm, affectionate gaze that always made your heart skip a beat. "Only if you’re up for it. It could be fun, and it might give people a little glimpse of what our life is really like."

You nodded, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves. "Let’s do it. It’ll be nice to share our story."

Rafe leaned over to kiss your forehead. "Then it’s settled. We’ll show them how it’s done."

The day had finally arrived. The anticipation had built up over the past week, and now you were both standing in the grand lobby of Vogue's headquarters, waiting to be escorted to the set. Rafe had his arm draped casually around your shoulders, a habit that never failed to make you feel grounded, no matter how big the moment was.

The Vogue team was nothing short of welcoming. As you walked through the sleek corridors, you were introduced to various crew members, each of them greeting you with smiles and words of encouragement. Finally, you were led into a spacious studio, where the set was arranged to resemble a chic living room—plush couches, tasteful decor, and a soft, ambient light that made everything feel warm and intimate.

You and Rafe were guided to a couch in the center of the set, the Vogue logo subtly displayed in the background. Cameras were positioned at different angles, and a few crew members buzzed around, making final adjustments.

The interviewer, a poised woman in her early forties with an air of elegance, approached you with a welcoming smile. "It’s such a pleasure to have you both here," she said, shaking your hand and then Rafe’s. "We’ve been looking forward to this interview. I’m sure your fans are eager to hear what you have to say."

You returned her smile, feeling a flutter of nerves mixed with excitement. "We’re excited too. It’s an honor to be here."

Rafe nodded in agreement. "Yeah, we’ve been looking forward to this. It’s always nice to get a chance to share a bit more of ourselves."

The interviewer took her seat across from you, a small stack of cards in her lap. She glanced at the cameras, waiting for the signal to start. As the red lights on the cameras flicked on, she turned her attention back to you with a friendly smile.

"Alright, let’s dive right in," she began. "The first question is one that comes up a lot: How did you two meet? And what was your first impression of each other?"

You exchanged a glance with Rafe, and he gave you an encouraging nod, signaling you to start.

You smiled as you began to recount the story. "We met on the set of a film we were both working on. It was a pretty intense project, and we spent a lot of time together during those early days. My first impression of Rafe was that he was incredibly focused and professional. But he also had this playful side that made everyone around him feel comfortable."

Rafe chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I remember thinking you were one of the most talented people I’d ever worked with. But what really stood out was how kind and genuine you were. You made it easy to connect, and I think that’s what laid the foundation for our friendship."

The interviewer nodded, clearly charmed by your answers. "That’s wonderful. So, how did that friendship evolve into a romantic relationship?"

Rafe took the lead on this one, his tone reflecting the warmth of the memory. "It wasn’t something that happened overnight. We became really good friends first, and as we spent more time together—both on and off set—we started to realize there was something more there. It was a natural progression, and before we knew it, we were dating."

You added with a smile, "We both knew we didn’t want to rush anything. We took our time, and I think that’s why our relationship is so strong now. We built it on a solid foundation of trust and respect."

The interviewer leaned in slightly, clearly captivated by your story. "That’s such a healthy approach. It’s clear that your relationship is built on strong principles. Speaking of which, how do you manage to balance your personal life with your busy careers, especially when you’re both in the spotlight?"

Rafe’s hand found yours on the couch, his thumb brushing lightly over your knuckles as he answered. "It’s definitely a challenge, but we make it work by prioritizing each other. No matter how busy things get, we always find time to connect. Whether it’s a quick phone call during a break or planning a weekend getaway, we make sure we’re not just coexisting, but actually spending quality time together."

You nodded in agreement. "And we’ve also learned to communicate really well. We’re honest with each other about our needs and boundaries. If one of us is feeling overwhelmed, we talk about it and find a solution together. It’s all about being a team."

The interviewer smiled, clearly impressed by your approach. "It sounds like you’ve both put a lot of thought into how to maintain a healthy relationship in the public eye. Another question that’s often asked is about your experiences working together on screen. What’s it like to transition from your real-life relationship to playing characters on set?"

You couldn’t help but laugh at the question, remembering some of the challenges and fun you’d had while filming together. "It’s definitely interesting! On one hand, there’s a comfort level that comes from knowing each other so well. But on the other hand, we have to remind ourselves to stay in character and not let our real-life dynamic interfere with the story we’re telling."

Rafe grinned, clearly enjoying the topic. "Yeah, it’s funny because sometimes we’ll have a scene where our characters are arguing, and it’s hard not to laugh because we’re not actually mad at each other. But we’re both professionals, so we make it work. Plus, it’s nice to have someone you trust completely when you’re in front of the camera."

The interviewer laughed along with you, clearly enjoying the lighthearted banter. "It sounds like you’ve found a good balance between work and play. Now, here’s a question that I think everyone is dying to know: When are you two planning to start a family?"

A brief silence settled over the room as the question hung in the air. You felt Rafe’s hand tighten slightly around yours, and you met his gaze, a silent understanding passing between you.

Rafe was the first to speak, his voice steady and thoughtful. "We’ve definitely talked about it," he began, turning his attention back to the interviewer. "Starting a family is something we both want, but right now, we’re just enjoying being newlyweds. We’re in no rush—we want to take our time and make sure we’re ready for that next step."

You nodded, feeling a sense of calm wash over you. "It’s a big decision, and we want to make sure we’re in the right place, both emotionally and professionally. We’re focusing on our relationship and our careers for now, and when the time is right, we’ll know."

The interviewer smiled warmly, clearly touched by your sincerity. "That’s a very thoughtful approach. It’s clear that you two are very much in sync and that you have a strong foundation to build on when the time comes."

As the interview drew to a close, the conversation shifted to lighter topics—favorite vacation spots, hobbies you enjoyed together, and your shared love of cooking. The mood in the room was relaxed, the conversation flowing easily as you and Rafe shared more glimpses into your life together.

Finally, the interviewer wrapped things up with a closing remark. "It’s been an absolute pleasure talking with you both today. Your fans are going to love getting this inside look at your relationship. Thank you for being so open and honest."

You smiled, genuinely appreciative of the opportunity to share your story. "Thank you for having us. It’s been a lot of fun."

Rafe nodded in agreement, his hand still intertwined with yours. "Yeah, we’ve really enjoyed it. It’s nice to be able to show people a bit more of who we are."

As the cameras stopped rolling and the crew began to pack up, you felt a sense of accomplishment. The interview had gone even better than you’d hoped, and you couldn’t wait to see the final result. But more than that, you were grateful for the chance to reflect on your journey with Rafe—how far you’d come as a couple, and how much further you were still excited to go.

After the interview, you and Rafe were led to another part of the studio for a photoshoot. The photographer directed you through a series of poses, capturing the easy intimacy between you. Rafe’s arm was constantly around you, pulling you close, and you found yourself laughing more often than not, his playful remarks easing any lingering nerves.

During a break, as the crew adjusted the lighting, you and Rafe sat together on a loveseat, scrolling through your phones and chatting about the day’s events.

“This has been fun,” you said, resting your head on his shoulder. “It’s nice to be able to share a bit of our story with the world.”

Rafe kissed the top of your head. “Yeah, it’s been a good day. And I’m glad we got to do it together. I can’t imagine doing this kind of thing with anyone else.”

You smiled, lifting your head to meet his gaze. “Neither can I.”

As you continued to sit there, a comfortable silence settling between you, you couldn’t help but reflect on how far you had come as a couple. From co-stars to best friends, and now husband and wife—it had been a journey full of ups and downs, but it had only strengthened your bond.

That evening, back at home, you and Rafe decided to unwind with a quiet dinner together. The table was set with candles, and the soft hum of jazz played in the background. You talked about everything and nothing, enjoying the simple pleasure of each other’s company.

After dinner, you curled up on the couch together, scrolling through social media and watching as the first clips of your interview started to surface online. Fans were already commenting on how in love you both seemed, how genuine your connection was.

You paused the video when the question about kids came up again. “Do you think people will ever stop asking us about this?” you asked, half-joking.

Rafe chuckled, pulling you closer. “Probably not. But I don’t mind. It means people care about us and our future. And honestly, I’m excited about it too—when the time comes.”

You looked up at him, your heart swelling with love. “Me too. But for now, I’m happy with just us.”

He smiled, his eyes reflecting the same warmth you felt. “Me too.”

You snuggled closer, feeling contentment wash over you. The future was a vast, unknown expanse, but with Rafe by your side, you knew it would be filled with love, laughter, and countless more memories to treasure.

As the night wore on, you found yourself drifting off to sleep, wrapped in Rafe’s arms, secure in the knowledge that whatever came next—whether it was starting a family or continuing to chase your dreams together—you were ready to face it together.

And that was all that mattered.

348 notes · View notes

dingusfreakhxrrington · 2 years ago

Text

A Test Of Faith

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

summary: to test the BAU, a bold unsub abducts one of their members and sends the team on a wild goose chase. with reckless decisions and personal feelings taking hold, will the team be able to save one of their own or will their faith in each other come crumbling down?

warnings: mentions of kidnapping, mentions of drugs, canon-typical violence, mentions of blood, mentions of death, mentions of injury, angst, 3rd person, slight fluff, minor cursing

word count: 7k

a/n: this isn’t proofread so i’m sorry for any mistakes!

part two (coming soon)

read on ao3

friendly reminder that comments and reblogs are just as (if not more than) important as likes!

“Hey, has anyone seen y/n this morning?” Reid asked with a frown as he entered the bullpen, hanging his bag over the back of his chair.

“She’s not here yet, why?”

His face only scrunched up further at Morgan’s words. He knew it was unusual for her to be late to work, let alone skip out on plans at the last minute. “It’s just, we were supposed to get coffee this morning but she didn’t show.”

Morgan shrugged. “Maybe she overslept?”

“Maybe…”

He wanted to believe it because the alternative, which had already begun to play on his mind, was much worse. Still, he couldn’t ignore the feeling that was starting to settle into the bottom of his stomach. That uneasy feeling which had taken hold before he’d even left the coffee shop where they were supposed to meet.

Something was wrong. He knew that even before the box arrived.

It was delivered by courier directly to the office. The only indicator of who it was for was in thick, red marker across the top of the box which spelt out nothing but ‘BAU’. The handwriting was neat but unnecessarily large.

Morgan held the box, inspecting it as Reid and Prentiss peered over his shoulders.

“What is it?” Emily questioned, waiting for Morgan to open the package.

“Nothing good.” All eyes turned to their superior as he approached, holding up a letter written in the same red ink that decorated the box.

Hotchner passed the note to Prentiss, allowing her to read it to the rest of the team. “‘For Agent Hotchner at the BAU. A package will arrive not long after you read this, I suggest you gather your team and prepare for the game’?”

“Game? What game?”

Reid furrowed his brows at Morgan’s question, already trying to piece together what was going on. “You don’t think this has anything to do with why y/n is late, do you?”

“I don’t know, but what I do know is that we’re going to need the whole team on this. Reid, try to get in contact with y/n and find out where she is. Prentiss, gather the others. I want everyone in the briefing room within the next five minutes.”

Just like that, the group dispersed and, within minutes, they assembled again for the briefing.

“Still no y/n?”

Reid shook his head as he pushed his phone back into his pocket. “She isn’t answering her phone.”

“No matter, we’ll have to catch her up when she gets here. We can’t waste any more time, we need to know what’s inside the box,” Hotch sighed and signalled for Morgan to finally open it up.

The team watched on anxiously, worried about the contents of the package they’d received. More often than not, packages with notes such as the one they’d received were a little more than unpleasant.

The one thing that gave them hope, was the fact that no blood seemed to be staining the cardboard from the inside. Although that didn’t mean there wasn’t a victim’s body part inside

“A CD?” Morgan frowned when he revealed its contents, only growing more curious as he checked both the front and back of the case.

It was Electra Heart by Marina and the Diamonds, not that anyone thought that detail was of any particular importance.

“Could just be a case the unsub is using to protect the disc. It’s most likely a video,” JJ gave her input as she reached out for the disc before moving to play it on the screen.

The room was silent as she prepared the video, nervous to find out what was on it.

Would it be a video of the unsub? Perhaps a video of them committing a crime? Murder? Torture? Assault? Something else altogether? Or had it really just been a prank? Was it really just an album?

“Oh god-” Garcia gasped, hands moving to cover her mouth the moment the video began to play, tears already pricking in the corner of her startled eyes.

That uneasy feeling in Reid’s gut only grew stronger, twisting and turning until it became all that consumed him. It had never been this bad before, not even when he himself was the one in danger. He was terrified.

Terrified for her.

There she was. Y/n, the agent who had not been late to work but abducted by their unsub. Taken in the dead of night to become a pawn in his sick game.

She was standing, just barely, with nothing but the chains around her wrists holding her up. Half-dried blood stained her forehead and matted her hair. The video only lasted for fifty-five seconds. Fifty-five seconds of nothing but her hanging there, feet barely on the ground. She was conscious but only just, likely concussed from the wound on her head.

“She’s been struck around the head, likely to incapacitate her before she could fight back during the abduction,” Morgan identified, eyes trained on the video.

“The unsub knows what he’s doing. There isn’t anything in the video that could indicate where she is,” Rossi added as he perched down on the end of the table to examine the paused video further.

Hotch hummed as he too was glued to the screen. “She can’t be far, she must have been abducted sometime since leaving here yesterday and this morning. Most likely during the night.”

JJ turned from the screen, unable to watch any longer. “We left at the same time last night and it’s unlikely she would have stopped on her way home.”

“Can we stop talking about her like she’s some random victim? This is y/n we’re talking about,” Reid snapped, drawing all eyes to him.

Each new comment in the discussion had been piling up until he just couldn’t take it anymore. This wasn’t just some case, nor was it any other victim. This was y/n — their friend.

“Reid, we know she isn’t just any victim but we have to look at this like we would any other case. It’s the only way we’re going to find her,” Morgan reminded, hoping to ease Reid at least a little.

“JJ, play the video again. We need to look for anything that could help us figure out where they are and Reid, I need you to focus. We’re going to need your brain on this.”

The youngest of them nodded, heeding Hotch’s words. This was just a game to the unsub — a game he’d made specifically for the BAU team. They were the only ones who could save her, he knew that.

“Hey, there’s something else in here. Looks like a note, taped to the inside of the box,” Prentiss announced before JJ had a chance to replay the video.

“What is it?” Reid was the first to jump at the new information, hoping it would be a better indication of where their missing friend was than the video.

Prentiss carefully tore the note from the box and began to read it out loud, “It’s a riddle. ‘I have cities, but no houses. I have mountains but no trees. I have water but no fish. What am I?’”

“A map,” Reid concluded after only a brief moment of pause, “It’s a map.”

“A map? I don’t see any kind of map here.” Morgan gestured at the now empty package before crossing his arms over his chest. He knew the wonder boy was right but he still couldn’t understand what the riddle could mean.

Hotch too seemed to be running circles in his head, unsure of what their unsub was trying to point them to. “Does it say anything else?”

Emily looked up from the note with troubled eyes as she voiced the final part, “Find her by midnight and she’ll live. Good luck, Agents.”

As if on cue, Reid vocalised the conclusion he had come to in his head, jumping to his feet like he was about to rush there himself without a second thought. “The Marina.”

“You think the unsub is holding her at the Marina?”

“I think it’s the only indication of a map I can find in all this. Marina and the Diamonds? The unsub didn’t choose that album without reason.”

Hotch hummed, seemingly agreeing with Reid’s deduction, and began to give directions. “Okay. Morgan, Prentiss and Rossi will come with me to the Marina. JJ, I need you and Reid to watch the video again. Look for anything we might have missed in case we’re wrong. And Garcia, I need you to track down exactly who delivered the package and where they delivered it from.”

Everyone got to their feet, springing into action as they would on any other case. They all knew their part to play and knew it was vital in locating their missing team member. Everyone other than Reid, who was less than happy to have been told to stay behind.

“No, I’m going with you.”

“Reid…” Hotch turned to him with a hand to his brow, already anticipating the headache that was to come if he continued to clash with the young doctor.

“No,” he cut him off again, “This is not negotiable. I’m going to the Marina with you.”

With a sigh, the unit chief gave in, knowing there was little he could do to keep Reid in the office. “Okay, Reid you’re with us. Prentiss, you stay here with JJ. Call us the moment you find anything.”

𓆩♡𓆪

Spencer had been restless the entire ride there. His hands were fidgety in his lap, his nails occasionally digging into the skin of his palms. He was stressed and more on edge than the rest of the team, not that anyone had expected any less.

Everyone knew that Reid had had a budding crush on y/n since she joined the BAU. Not that he’d ever acted on it. Morgan teased him about it constantly, comparing it to a schoolboy crush. Only, it wasn’t just a schoolboy crush. Not anymore.

The longer they had gotten to know one another, the closer y/n and Reid became. He felt as though she was the only one who really saw him, not that the rest of the team didn’t care greatly for him. She just understood him better than anyone else.

So, to say it was a simple crush would be a lie. He was in love with her. How couldn’t he be? She was pretty and funny and kind and a great agent. She saw him for who he really was and accepted every part of him. She stood up for him when the team teased him about his rambling. She always listened so intently, never once cutting him off no matter what it was he was talking about.

He was in love with her but now, he feared more than ever that he was about to lose her.

“She’s going to be okay, Reid,” Morgan comforted from the seat beside him, squeezing Reid’s shoulder as if the gesture would ease his fear.

Nothing would ease it. Not until she was safe.

It wasn’t like Reid to doubt himself. He knew he was right about the riddle, he had to be, yet he was still starting to wonder what would happen if he was wrong.

They only had until midnight. There was no time to spare and if he was wrong about this they might just lose her.

“I know,” he lied, trying to mask his true feelings.

Morgan sighed, seeing through Reid’s weak façade. No matter what he said or did, it hadn’t stopped his legs from bouncing or his hands from shaking.

The moment they arrived, Reid was fast to get out of the van. Too enthusiastic about rushing in headfirst to save her. He glanced around, taking in the fresh air as if his lungs had been deprived for hours.

“Spread out and search the area,” Hotch ordered and the team nodded, checking their vests one last time before pulling out their guns for the sweep.

They searched almost everywhere but found nothing. No sign that y/n or the unsub had ever been there. It was just a Marina and none of the boats there were big enough to fit the room they’d seen in the video.

Reid was beginning to believe that he really was wrong, that he had just wasted time they didn’t have on a hunch. Well, he was beginning to lose hope until Rossi called the team over to his location.

With a fast-beating heart, Reid ran as fast as he could manage to see what Rossi had found. He prayed it was her and that she was safe — that it was over.

Disappointment was not quite the right word for his feelings when he arrived and saw she wasn’t there because something was there. Another note, written in that same red marker.

“‘So you figured it out. Well done, agents. I hate to disappoint but your missing agent isn’t here but I hope this gift will help keep you on the trail’?” Rossi read the letter aloud before turning it over to find a USB taped to the other side.

“He’s playing with us.” Morgan shook his head, already growing tired of the unsub’s game.

“Or testing us,” Reid argued, “He’s referred to us as ‘agents’ in every note so far. It’s like he’s-”

“A part of the bureau,” Hotch finished for him, drawing the same conclusion, “Likely an ex-agent or even an ex-recruit.”

Morgan’s brow creased and he asked, “By why us? Why is he testing us? And why did he take y/n? He could have taken any one of us, why her?”

“Because she’s the newest member of the BAU. Maybe he doesn’t see her as an official member of the team yet?” Queried Reid.

“Or he just thought she’d be the easiest to abduct because she’s less experienced,” Rossi added.

“Whatever the reason, we don’t have a lot of time. The unsub must have had base access to use the marina. Reid, Morgan, I need you to speak with the workers here. See if they’ve seen anyone strange and ask for records to find out who owns this boat. We’ll head back to check in with the rest of the team and get this to Garcia.” Hotch held up the USB, knowing Garcia was the safest person to give it to as there was no way to know what would be on it.

𓆩♡𓆪

“Anything?”

“No, you?”

Reid shrugged. “Not much but I did get a name for the boat owner. Rudd Richardson.”

“Did you run it by Garcia?”

“Yeah, Rudd Richardson died three years ago.”

Morgan hummed in thought. “So our unsub is using a dead man’s name?”

“Maybe. Garcia is looking for any other property that is still registered in his name but she hasn’t been able to find anything yet and it doesn’t look like the unsub has taken Richardson’s identity.”

Their discussion was cut short when Reid’s phone began to ring.

“Garcia?”

He shook his head, looking up from his phone in disbelief. “No. It’s y/n.”

Right away Morgan pulled out his cell to call Garcia. If it really was y/n or even the unsub they would need her to trace the call.

“Y/n?” Questioned Reid as he put the phone on speaker, his voice already settling into a tone of urgency.

The line was silent but the trace had already begun, all they needed to do now was keep them on the phone.

After a brief moment of static, a weak voice finally spoke from the other side, “Reid?”

“Y/n! Y/n, can you tell us where you are? Are you alright?” He spoke at a hundred miles a minute, desperate to know she was okay.

Static again as the phone on the other end seemed to move from one ear to another.

The young doctor gulped as another voice began to speak, “She knew you would figure it out… The first clue. Let’s see how quickly you figure out the rest. The sands of time are forever slipping…”

The voice was dark and warped, spoken through a voice-changing device. Its sinister vibrations sent a chill up Spencer’s spine.

“Wait! Y/n!”

“Dammit,” Morgan spoke bitterly, knowing the call had not been long enough to give them any hint on their location, “He’s taunting us.”

“We need to get back to the others. He said this was the first clue, the USB must be the next.”

Morgan sighed. “We have to play his game. Or we may never find her…”

𓆩♡𓆪

“Please tell me you guys have got something,” Morgan asked while looking down at his watch.

There was still time but there was no way to know if the unsub would stay true to his word.

“Nothing yet. The USB locked Garcia out of the system the moment she plugged it in, she’s trying to regain access now,” JJ explained with a sigh before turning her attention back to the files in her hands.

Reid was only growing more anxious and began fishing for anything else that could be of use. “What about the video?”

“Nothing. We’ve watched it a hundred times but there’s nothing in it that could tell us where they are.” Prentiss chimed in as she too walked over with a new batch of files.

“So what do we do? We can’t just sit around and wait for Garcia to get the system up and running again.”

JJ split the files he was holding into three before passing a pile out to Reid and Morgan. “I know you’re worried, Spence. We all are but there isn’t a lot we can do right now. Until she gets back in all we really can do is look at these files to see if anyone fits the profile.”

“Profile? We’ve got a profile?” Morgan questioned as he began to flick through the files.

“Well, Hotch told us you think it’s an ex-agent or recruit but other than that we don’t really have a lot to go on so right now we’re just looking for anyone that sticks out.”

Reid dropped the files down onto the desk with a scoff, “We’re looking for a needle in a haystack. This isn’t going to get us anywhere.”

“It’s better than sitting around twiddling our thumbs.” Morgan shrugged.

“Look, Reid, if you don’t want to look through the files then go help Hotch and Rossi. They’re looking for anywhere she could be being held. Warehouses, storerooms, abandoned homes. Look for anything and everything and start making it down.”

He only grew more frustrated as he listened to Prentiss. “So if we run out of time we’re just going to start knocking on doors until we find her?”

“We don’t really have any other choice right now. Not until Garcia gets back into the system. He’s testing us, right? So this is probably just another test. She’s got this.”

Like Morgan, Reid also had full faith that Garcia would get back into the system but he was worried about how long it would take her to do so. They were on the clock and every second they spent sitting around waiting for her would only bring them closer to their deadline.

So, to try and ease his mind, Spencer decided to go help Hotch and Rossi in the hope that it would help bring them closer to finding y/n.

𓆩♡𓆪

“I’m back in. I’m back in!” Garcia cried out and soon the team were rushing into her office.

It had been no longer than an hour but that was still an hour they didn’t have to spare in the first place.

She tapped away on her keyboard, eyes flickering across the screen at the speed of light as she searched for any trace of what the unsub had tried to achieve by locking her out of her own system.

“He’s watching us,” she announced when her tapping fingers finally began to calm down, “I don’t think I can remove him from the system, not from my end anyway. I had to reboot the whole thing just to get back in. It’s amazing he’s even still here.”

“So he can see everything we do?” Rossi questioned, wanting to know exactly what the unsub was able to do with his access to the system.

Garcia hummed, “Yep. Well, he can see through our webcams but he doesn’t have access to my screen. That was a nasty piece of malware but it won’t give him access to any of my files.”

Just as Hotch opened his mouth to speak, a notification sound rang from the speakers and a message popped up on the screen. It was typed out rather than written but the red colour still prevailed.

‘Well done, Agents. You’ve cracked the code and earned your next clue: I can’t be bought, but I can be stolen with a glance. I’m worthless to one, but priceless to two. What am I?’

“Love… the answer is love,” Reid announced with a tightening heart.

“But what does that mean? Love, what kind of a clue is that?” Morgan complained, once again growing tired of the game they were being forced to play.

Prentiss hummed in thought for a moment before asking, “What about wedding venues? A church maybe?”

“Or some kind of date spot? A restaurant?” JJ added.

Before long, everyone was throwing out ideas but nothing was clicking.

Hotch was the first to catch onto the lead again. “Garcia, see if Mr Richardson was married.”

“Okay.” The tech-whiz complied and began tapping away on her keyboard again.

Within only a few short seconds she had her answer. “He married Triss Anderson in 1984 but she died during childbirth over twenty years ago.”

“What about their child?” Morgan prompted, drawing at any loose threads.

Her eyes flicked over the screen again as she searched for the information. “They had a daughter. She’s living here in Quantico, only a few blocks away from here actually.”

“Okay, let’s go.”

𓆩♡𓆪

“No car,” Prentiss stated as they approached the house.

Rossi stepped up to the door while Reid and Morgan peered in through the windows.

“Look’s like no one’s home,” Morgan sighed.

Still, Rossi tried the door. “Miss Richardson?”

When no response came, he banged again.

“You’re looking for Jen?” They turned around to the neighbour, eager to hear what she had to say. “She left for vacation just over a week ago. I’m Michelle, I live across the street. Maybe I can help you?”

“Do you know when she’s supposed to come home?” Reid questioned, worried they had wasted their time.

Michelle thought for a moment before replying, “Actually, now that you mention it I think she was due back last night.”

“So she hasn’t come home?” Asked Prentiss as she hurriedly pulled out her phone.

“No, I guess not. You don’t think anything has happened to her, do you?”

As Rossi began to reassure Miss Richardson’s neighbour, the others quickly headed back to the van.

Prentiss held her phone to her ear, exchanging a worried glance with Morgan as she spoke with the unit chief, “Hotch, we might have another missing person on our hands.”

“Are you Spencer Reid?”

Spencer turned from the van just before opening the door to find a young boy standing behind him.

“Yeah, you know me?”

The child shook his head and shyly held out a piece of paper and pointed down the street with his free hand. “That man over there told me to give this to you.”

As he took the paper, Spencer quickly looked in the direction the boy was pointing but whoever may have been there had long since gone.

“Thank you, kid. Get home safe now, okay?” Morgan had to speak for him while Reid examined the note.

“It’s an address, Morgan. He’s given us an address.”

𓆩♡𓆪

Wasting no time, the group headed for the address on the note. Garcia ran it through the system and found it to be an empty home, one currently up for sale.

It was the perfect place for the unsub to hold them, although Morgan still doubted the nature of the note. It didn’t make sense for him to just give them the answer now. Not after making them jump through hoops to so much as obtain a single clue.

“Reid, wait,” he reached out for the youngest, holding him back from rushing straight inside, “We don’t know what we’re going to find in there.”

“We can’t wait, what if y/n is in there?” Reid was quick to shake him off, desperate to find her.

Morgan sighed as he pulled out his gun. “The unsub could be in there too, just don’t do anything rash.”

Spencer was the first to the door. He stood ready as Morgan exchanged one quick, affirmative glance with Rossi before kicking down the door.

In the blink of an eye, all four agents infiltrated the home and began to cautiously clear each room.

“Clear!” Prentiss called out from the bathroom as Morgan and Reid began to scale the stairs.

She slowly approached the bedroom, knowing it was the last room to check. If they were going to find anything, it was going to be in there.

When Morgan and Reid were close enough behind her to have her back, she reached for the handle and quickly opened the door.

She checked every corner of the room before giving the all-clear but something was wrong. Her voice was quiet, choked even, as she entered the room.

Morgan turned to Reid, not knowing what to do other than keep him away to stop him from looking inside but he was too late, he’d already caught a glimpse of what was waiting for them inside.

“Y/n? Y/n!” he cried as he rushed towards the room, shoving past Morgan who moved to stop him.

In the middle of the empty room was a body. A woman wearing clothes Reid recognised. She was lifeless and stained in blood. When his hands shakily reached out to her, he felt the coldness of her skin on the tips of his fingers.

He couldn’t think, he couldn’t breathe.

He got back up, unable to bring himself to look at her face – to turn her over and come face-to-face with her void eyes.

Everything was a blur, all of his senses going dull as Morgan moved to further inspect the body.

Emily too was standing near the door as if she were frozen in place with her hand covering her mouth.

Slowly, Morgan rolled the body over onto its back. He was quiet, almost too quiet, before he finally released the breath he had been holding.

“It’s not her.”

𓆩♡𓆪

“Jena Richardson, daughter of Rodd Richardson. A twenty-six-year-old entrepreneur. She was supposed to go on vacation to Europe eight days ago,” Garcia read through the information she had discovered about the woman.

“He chose her for a reason. He did all of this for a reason. Been planning it for a while too.”

Hotch hummed in agreement with Morgan. “He took Miss Richardson before she had a chance to leave for her vacation, she never left. Her bags are likely still inside her home.”

“And when he took y/n, he stole some of her clothes to dress the victim in so that we would think it was her. That’s why he chose the victim… because she looked like y/n,” Prentiss concluded.

The whole team had gathered in the briefing room again, discussing their next course of action.

“There was nothing else on the body or in the house? No next clue? Nothing to tell us where he might be holding her?” Hotch questioned, hopeful that there would have been something — anything.

Prentiss shook her head. There was nothing. Nothing at all. They had searched everywhere. Every single inch of that house but there was nothing there. Nothing but the body.

“Then we’ll have to wait for the coroner’s report, maybe the unsub left a clue for us there.”

“No, we don’t have time to wait. We only have a few hours left. There has to be something we’re missing.” Reid began to pace the room, running through everything they’d discovered so far in his head.

“Reid,” Morgan began, “We’ve run out of options but we still have time.”

The young doctor only began to shake his head, his eyes glaring in disbelief that his team could even suggest to sit around and wait while y/n was in danger. “No, we don’t. We have hours and if we just keep sitting around waiting she’s going to die.”

Just like that, he was storming out of the briefing room and, while Hotch gave new directions to the rest of the team, JJ jumped up to go after him.

“Spence!”

“If you’re just going to tell me to sit tight and wait like everyone else you’re wasting your breath.”

She understood how he was feeling because she knew how he felt about y/n. She knew it was a fool's errand trying to calm him down or convince him everything was going to be alright. All she wanted to do was be there for him when hope began to fade.

“Where are you going?”

He tugged at his collar, his fingers moving to loosen his tie in a desperate attempt to breathe. “I need some air.”

She let it be as he rushed through the bullpen, heading straight for the elevator. If she had left a moment earlier, she wouldn’t have heard the sound of a text coming through on his phone as the elevator doors began to close.

His eyes widened as he read the message, one that had come through from her: ‘It’s funny, isn’t it? Love? When you lose the thing you love, there isn’t anything you wouldn’t do to be reunited with it. That’s what I did, you know. I reunited Miss Richardson with her beloved father. Now I’m giving you the chance to be reunited with the one you love, so long as you come alone.’

Another text came through by the time he reached the bottom of the building. Another address.

𓆩♡𓆪

“Where’s Reid?”

JJ looked up from her paperwork and glanced out into the bullpen. “He’s not back yet?”

Morgan frowned. “No. Where did he go?”

“He said he needed to get some air but he should have been back by now,” she explained as she stood up, realising what had happened, “Shit.”

“What?”

“He got a text before he got into the elevator.”

Morgan was already half out of the room by the time she finished her sentence. “The unsub.”

The two of them all but ran to the rest of their team, already gathering their things to leave as questions started flooding in.

“Reid’s gone after him,” Morgan announced as the rest of the team gathered their equipment and began to head for the door.

“Alone?” Prentiss furrowed her brows, she had hoped he would have known better than that.

JJ stuttered, still in disbelief, “H-He said he was just going outside to get some air.”

Hotch was already pointing Garcia back into her office before she’d even made it through the door. “Garcia I need you to find Reid’s car. Tell us the moment you know what direction he was headed.”

“Y-yes, sir.”

Everyone was in hyperdrive, working against the clock to find Reid and y/n before it was too late. They were already in the SUVs, splitting into two groups before they even had any information on where he was going.

𓆩♡𓆪

There he stood, outside a property that they never would have even considered including during their search for it was not empty or abandoned but rather a home. A home that seemed well lived in from the moment he stepped inside.

No one was there. Not a single soul. Yet every surface was decorated with family pictures. A mother, father and son. A happy family.

From the photos, the son seemed to be no older than four and all Reid could do was hope nothing bad had happened to him or his family.

With his gun raised, he slowly made his way through the house until he reached the door he was looking for — the door to the basement.

Quietly, he descended into the darkest depths of the house. The stairs barely made a creak and, by the time he could see into the room, he saw her.

“Welcome, Doctor Reid.”

The man was standing beside her, face half-hidden in the shadows. He had a knife and held it firmly near her stomach in a silent threat.

“Let her go,” Reid demanded, although when the unsub did not budge, he opted for negotiation over immediate violence.

Stepping from the shadows, the unsub revealed himself. Reid recognised him the moment the dull light illuminated his features. He was the father in the photos upstairs but he was older now and more unkept than he appeared in the pictures.

“I don’t know what happened to your family but please, you have to let her go,” he pleaded again, eyes flickering over to y/n.

Other than the injuries she had sustained during the abduction, she seemed okay but he noticed how weak she seemed. Her injuries were not bad enough to be the cause of her drowsy state. The unsub may not have harmed her further but it seemed likely she had been drugged.

“Reid…” she spoke in a quiet voice, her hooded eyes barely open as she looked at him, struggling to lift her head.

The unsub looked between them with a smile as if he was truly happy to see them this way. “Young love, isn’t it so precious?”

“What do you want?”

“Me? No, this isn’t about what I want. This is about what you want,” the unsub looked at y/n as she stood half-dangling beside him and pointed, “Her. You want her, don’t you?”

Reid raised his gun again, finger resting on the trigger the moment the man drew closer to her.

“You lost your family,” he stated, gaining the unsub’s attention once again, “Your wife and son. You lost them, didn’t you?”

Hesitantly, the man nodded. “They were taken from me, just as she was taken from you. In the night while I was away.”

“You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to hurt her. It won’t bring them back.”

“Oh, but I do. When I sent my case to the BAU, you turned it down. It wasn’t a serial killer or a professional hit. Just a burglary gone wrong. I was at work when it happened, out late on the job. I wanted to join the FBI, you know? I was a recruit.”

The more he explained, the more Spencer began to understand. The unsub’s connection to the BAU, and the resentment he held for them. The loss of his family had driven him to his breaking point and he blamed them for not finding the killer.

Why had he taken y/n? Well, it wasn’t because she was a newer member of the BAU or because she was less experienced than the others but because somehow he knew. He knew how Spencer felt about her and he wanted to show a member of the BAU the same pain he felt when he lost his family.

“Please, just put the knife down. It doesn’t have to end this way.”

The unsub held the knife tighter than before, raising it to her neck. “Oh, but it does. I want you to do it. I want you to reunite me with them. Send me to them, please. If you refuse, I’ll take her from you just as they were taken from me.”

Reid shook his head, refusing to play his twisted game any longer. “Put the knife down.”

“I hoped it could have been different.”

Time seemed to move in slow motion as the unsub lifted his arm, angling the knife back onto her abdomen as he swung it down.

“No!”

𓆩♡𓆪

“Garcia, you’re sure he’s here?”

The technical analyst hummed over the line. “Positive.”

“I see his car,” JJ announced as she climbed out of the SUV, already rushing toward the house.

The team approached the building with caution, not wanting to rush in and startle the unsub into doing anything rash. They knew Reid was inside but they didn’t want to put him in any more danger.

Only, before they even reached the front door, they heard a gunshot and all caution flew to the wind as Morgan kicked down the door and burst inside.

They cleared each room before reaching the entrance to the basement and, upon hearing footsteps approaching, all guns were aimed at the door. They stood their ground, ready for whatever they were to face but when the door finally opened, all anyone could do was breathe a sigh of relief.

“Reid!” Morgan was by his side the moment he stepped through the door with her in his arms.

Hotch saw the spattering of blood that stained her clothes and looked into his eye. With just an exchanged glance, he knew what had transpired.

The unsub was dead. It was finally over.

Despite Morgan’s offer for help, Spencer carried her all the way outside to the paramedics. He stayed with her still as they lifted her into the ambulance. She was out of it, barely aware of what was going on.

“Go with them, we’ll meet you there.”

Reid offered a subtle nod to his unit chief, thankful that he was allowing him to accompany her to the hospital.

𓆩♡𓆪

Quiet beeps echoed through the room, the sound of the monitor that continued to track the beats of her heart.

Reid sat waiting, hands fidgeting as he bounced his leg.

“The doctor said she’s going to be fine, relax a little,” Morgan comforted with a gentle hand on Reid’s shoulder.

The youngest glanced up at his friend before his eyes flickered back over to her. “I can’t relax. Not until she wakes up. Not until I know she’s okay.”

From the moment the doctor had told them it was okay to wait with her in her room, Spencer had been by her side. The time he had spent in the waiting room before was agonising and he had felt relief when the doctor told them she just needed time to recover. Still, he couldn’t help but worry about her, not when he had been through something similar before. Kidnapped, tortured, and drugged.

He was thankful this unsub had seemed to skip the torture but he could still sympathise with how she was feeling. She had been taken from her own home. He could only imagine how scared she must have been.

When she finally began to stir and her eyes finally fluttered awake, he was on his feet again. “Y/n? How are you feeling?”

Morgan chuckled, “Come on kid, give her a second to wake up before you jump her with questions.”

Spencer was already holding her hand, his thumb rubbing gently across the back of it as he smiled.

“Spence?”

He nodded as she slowly came to, squeezing her hand a little just to make sure she knew he was really there — that she was safe now.

“I’ll go let the others know she’s awake,” Morgan excused himself, leaving the two of them to talk alone.

“What… What happened?”

He gulped and stuttered slightly as he answered, “Y-you were kidnapped.”

She closed her eyes again and nodded, recalling the events that had transpired as well as she could remember them. “You saved me. Thank you.”

With a small smile, he nodded.

It was quiet for a moment and all she could focus on was the warmth of his hand. Soon, he too realised he was still holding her hand and quickly let go as he cleared his throat to speak.

“So, how are you feeling?” he repeated his earlier words, eager to hear how she was holding up.

She couldn’t help but chuckle. “Honestly? Like shit. My head is killing and I think I might still be a little high.”

Spencer was now the one laughing at her remark, thankful that she was well enough to make light of the situation. “Yeah, that’s probably the painkillers the doctor gave you. Must be a pretty bad concussion if your head is still hurting.”

“Yeah, well it could have been a lot worse…”

The mood soured again with her words as the two of them were reminded of just how badly things could have gone had Reid not found her when he did.

“I knew it was going to be okay, you know. When I saw you I just… I knew I was safe.”

Though she smiled, it was her eyes that conveyed all he needed to know. Everything she’d never spoken aloud, everything she wanted to say but could never bring herself to do so. It was the first time he’d truly felt it, the way she felt for him. The first time he’d realised that she cared about him as much as he cared about her.

A test of faith had brought them together, breaking the boundary between them.

Spencer stepped closer again, leaning towards her as he took her hand in his again. With his other, he brushed her hair from her face, fingers lingering on her skin as time froze still.

Their quiet moment together would soon be broken when the door opened and the rest of the team flooded in to see how she was but, for just one moment, they were the only two people in the world.

feel free to let me know if you want to be added to or removed from my taglist!

taglist: @sweetpeapod @regulus-black-223048 @nsxthoughts

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valkyriexo · 5 months ago

Text

Invasion of Privacy | Ep. 8 -If the Shoe fits

ᑉ³SYNOPSIS; In the dazzling world of fame, you have it all—a beautiful home, devoted fans, and Chan, the love of your life. But when cryptic messages start arriving, the line between adoration and obsession blurs. With each note, you feel increasingly unsafe. Now, you're on a dangerous journey to uncover the truth before it's too late.

ᑉ³PAIRING; Chan x Idol! reader. Ft. Stray Kids

ᑉ³GENRE; Smau, FF , Angst, Hurt, Comfort, mystery

ᑉ³GENERAL WARNINGS ;Violence, Sasaeng (Stalker). Mentions of a knife, mentions of blood, Home invasion, cursing, Kissing, Pain, death, Implied female reader, Certain episodes may be Suggestive MDNI ᑉ³EPISODE WARNINGS : Violence, Sasaeng (Stalker). Mentions of a knife, Home invasion, cursing, Home invasion

EPISODE WORD COUNT; 7.9k Words

AUTHOR'S NOTE ; Thank you for joining me on this journey.<3 Your support and enthusiasm mean the world to me. I hope you've enjoyed the series as much as I've enjoyed creating it. I hope this is a resolution you'll enjoy... Happy season finale!!

If you enjoyed this episode, I'd love to hear your thoughts. Whether it's through comments, reblogs, or sending an ask, your feedback means the world to me. Remember, none of this is real. It is a story. It is fiction. You can choose not to read it if it will make you uncomfortable.

Master Post | Teaser | Suspect Cards

The morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, peeking through the blinds. You blinked awake, feeling Chan's steady breathing beside you. The events of the previous night rushed back, and your mind immediately began to churn with thoughts of the gift, the unsettling letters, and Hyunjin.

You turned to see Chan still asleep, his face relaxed in peaceful slumber. You carefully slipped out of bed, not wanting to wake him just yet, making your way to the bathroom to freshen up.

After getting dressed, you quietly made your way to the living room. You glanced at the clock—it was early, but you needed to reach out to Hyunjin and Minho and get some answers.

You picked up your phone and sent a quick text to both of them, separately.

You quickly grabbed your things, ensuring you had the letters you took from Hyunjin's room and the box Minho had left last night.

You left a note for Chan, letting him know you’d be back soon and that you were heading out for a moment.

The early morning air was cool and crisp as you stepped outside. You made your way to the dorms, your mind racing with thoughts and questions.

When you arrived, you found Hyunjin and Minho waiting outside, each looking concerned. They seemed surprised to see each other.

“What are you doing here?” Minho asked, glancing at Hyunjin.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Hyunjin replied, frowning.

Hyunjin raised an eyebrow, looking at Minho with mock suspicion. "First you try to take over my dorm. Now your following me everywhere, huh?"

Minho chuckled, shaking his head. "Please, I have better things to do than follow you around."

Hyunjin crossed his arms, leaning against the wall. "Could've fooled me. What's next? You going to start stealing my clothes?"

Minho sighed. "I don't have time for this. Can you leave? I have a private meeting with Y/N."

Hyunjin raised an eyebrow. “No, I’m meeting with Y/N.”

You stepped between them before the tension could escalate. “Actually, I’m meeting with both of you.” They both looked at you, their expressions shifting from surprise to curiosity. “We need to talk about a few things and its important your both there."

Hyunjin and Minho exchanged glances before nodding in agreement. "Alright," Minho said, gesturing towards the entrance. "Let's go inside and talk."

Once inside, you were led into the living room, and Minho and Hyunjin sat next to each other, while you sat across from them.

You placed the box next to you, the letters hidden inside. You didn't know where else to start other than what you found in Hyunjin's room.

Hyunjin hesitated, glancing at you with a mixture of surprise and hurt. "You went through my things?" His voice was low, tinged with disappointment.

You swallowed, realizing your mistake. "I... I had to. After everything that's been happening, I needed to understand what was going on."

"You... read the letters, didn't you?"

You nodded, feeling a pang of guilt for invading his privacy. "I did... I'm sorry, Hyunjin. I had to understand what was going on."

Minho glanced between you and Hyunjin, sensing the need to clear things up. "What letters are you talking about?"

Hyunjin's expression was a mix of surprise and embarrassment, his cheeks faintly flushed as he glanced at Minho.

You took a deep breath, then reached into the box, retrieving the letters carefully. You handed them to Minho, who took them with a furrowed brow, his eyes scanning the elegant handwriting on the pages.

Hyunjin covered his face briefly with his hand, his embarrassment evident. "I can't believe you found those," he murmured, voice muffled against his palm.

Minho glanced up from the letters, his expression shifting from curiosity to concern as he realized the implications. "Hyunjin..."

You nodded quietly, understanding the weight of the moment. "I found them while trying to piece together everything that's been happening."

Hyunjin shifted uncomfortably under the collective gaze of everyone present.

"Hyunjin… youve been… helping Stay?"

Hyunjin glanced up, meeting your eyes with a mix of confusion and frustration. His earlier embarrassment now gave way to a defensive stance, his arms crossed tightly against his chest. "Helping STAY? No, I haven't been helping them," he replied firmly. "I've been trying to figure out who they are just as much as you."

Minho's eyebrows furrowed deeply, skepticism evident in his expression. He held the letters out towards Hyunjin. "Then how do you explain these letters, Hyunjin? They talk about your feelings for Y/N... your actions... What do you know? Who is STAY?!"

Hyunjin's eyes darted to the letters, his hands visibly trembling as he hesitated to take them out of Minho's hands. "I... I don't know," he stammered, his voice cracking under the weight of Minho's accusation. "I... I swear, I don't know who 'STAY' is. I've never met them," he insisted.

"What did you do?" you asked, your voice edged with concern.

Hyunjin remained quiet, his gaze fixed on the floor, clearly struggling to find the right words.

"You better start talking," Minho threatened, his tone sharp and demanding. He moved closer to Hyunjin, his frustration palpable.

Hyunjin swallowed hard, his jaw tightening. "I never wanted you to find out like this," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't know who STAY was. They... they found out about my feelings...and my drawings. They threatened to expose everything if I didn't do what they said. They would send me messages, telling me to put letters in specific places or go to certain locations.... I never knew what they were planning, but they made it clear they could ruin everything if I didn't cooperate."

Minho's frustration turned into disbelief mixed with anger. "So, you let yourself be blackmailed? You didn't think to come to me? Or any of us?!"

Hyunjin shook his head, his shoulders tense with guilt. "I was scared, Minho. I didn't want to drag you into this mess. I thought I could handle it on my own."

Minho paced back and forth, running a hand through his hair. "Handling it on your own nearly got all of us into deeper trouble," he muttered, more to himself than to Hyunjin.

You stood beside Minho, feeling torn between anger at the situation and sympathy for Hyunjin's predicament. "Hyunjin, why didn't you tell me?" you asked softly, trying to understand.

Hyunjin looked up at you, his eyes filled with regret. "I didn't want to lose your trust," he admitted. "I didn't want you to see me like this, or for us to lose our friendship."

Minho exhaled sharply, his features softening slightly as he glanced at you. "We need to figure out who STAY is," he said firmly, refocusing on the task at hand. "We can't let them continue to manipulate us."

"We?" You turned and looked at him. "We need to figure out who STAY is?"

Minho looked at you with confusion. "Yes, we. Why wouldn't I help you?"

"Oh yeah?" you replied in disbelief. "I think you've done more than enough helping."

"What are you talking about, Y/N?"

You pulled out your phone, navigating to the security footage from the previous night. "Last night, someone was at my door. I have it on camera."

As the video played, it showed a figure approaching your doorstep. The dim light revealed enough to identify Minho's distinct features.

Minho's eyes widened as he watched himself on the screen, caught in the act. He ran a hand through his hair, his face flushing with embarrassment and guilt. "I... I was there," he admitted quietly, avoiding your gaze.

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. "And seconds after you left, I received a text from STAY about the gift," you continued, showing him the message on your phone. "How do you explain that?"

"The box appeared on my bed with your name on it. I thought you had forgotten it there because you stayed at the dorm the night Seungmin went to the hospital. Maybe you had slept in my bed? I don't know… so I brought it over. I didn't open it or know anything about it."

You frowned, processing his explanation. It made sense, but .... did it?

"So you weren't involved with STAY at all?" you asked, wanting to clarify.

Minho shook his head vehemently. "No, I swear," he replied earnestly. "I had no idea about STAY or the letters. I just wanted to return the box because I thought it was a mix-up."

Hyunjin, who had been listening intently, spoke up cautiously. "Wait, so you didn't know about the text from STAY either?"

Minho looked genuinely surprised. "No," he said, "I had no idea. I just thought I was helping out."

"You better not be lying to me. So help me God...." you snap at him.

Minho's expression turned solemn as he met your gaze, his eyes reflecting a mix of hurt and determination. "I swear, I'm not lying," he insisted. "I didn't know anything about it. I was just trying to do what I thought was right."

You studied him for a moment, searching his eyes for any sign of deception. After a tense pause, you nodded slowly. "Alright," you said firmly, though the uncertainty still lingered. "Let's focus on finding out who STAY is. We need to put an end to this."

Hyunjin nodded in agreement, his earlier defensiveness now replaced with a shared sentiment. "We'll need to be careful," he cautioned, glancing between you and Minho. "STAY seems to know a lot about us."

"If we're going to work together, you have to be honest. What else do you two know? You can't hide anything from me. Who else received letters?"

Minho and Hyunjin exchanged a glance, silently communicating their shared concern. Minho spoke up first, his voice measured. "I... don't know who else received letters," he admitted, his brows furrowing with worry. "I didn't even know about these until now."

Suddenly the attention was suddenly diverted by the arrival of Felix.

"Good Morning everyone!" he said walking by. Then he hesitated, sensing the seriousness in the air. "Why's everyone so serious? Am I interrupting something?" Felix asked, looking around with curiosity.

"You're not interrupting," you said firmly, motioning for Felix to sit down. "Come. Lets chat."

Felix took a seat, his brow furrowing slightly at the atmosphere. "Okay... What's going on?"

"Felix, do you remember the day we went to the warehouse?" you say to him.

"Yes.. why?" he replied cautiously.

"Why did you show up there?" you said. Felix shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his eyes darting around the room as he avoided direct eye contact. He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing visibly.

"Was there a letter telling you to go there?" you continued.

His fingers fidgeted with the hem of his shirt, twisting the fabric nervously. Felix's usual easygoing demeanor was replaced with a tense, uneasy energy. His shoulders were slightly hunched, and he shifted his weight from one foot to the other as if he wanted to get up and leave but was forcing himself to stay put.

"No... no letter," he said, his voice wavering.

You relaxed slightly, feeling a bit of relief. Maybe Felix was telling the truth. Maybe you could trust him and all his actions.

"I....I-I got a text," Felix added, his voice barely above a whisper.

Just kidding! He's a liar just like the others.

"OH?? SO FOR YOU THEY TOOK THE MODERN ROUTE," Hyunjin said with a bitter laugh. "I had to keep letters like we were fucking pen pals."

"You got a text?!" you exclaimed, your shock evident in your tone.

Felix nodded reluctantly, his gaze darting between you, Minho, and Hyunjin. "It just said to go to Y/N's house, that there was something she wanted to tell me."

You blinked, surprised by Felix's revelation. The implications sank in as you exchanged looks with Minho and Hyunjin, all equally puzzled by this new development.

"To my house?" you repeated, trying to process it.

"Yeah. That's when I saw all of you dressed in black heading out."

"Did you get any more texts after that?" you asked.

"No, I didn't. I didn't know anything else. That's when we went to the warehouse and we saw all of Hyunjin's things there. Which, by the way, why is he here if it's clearly him?" Felix said, his voice now tinged with suspicion.

"Excuse me?" Hyunjin said, his eyes narrowing. "Me? You're saying this is my fault?"

"Your camera was at the crime scene, your drawings were at the crime scene… two plus two definitely equals four," Felix shot back, his voice rising.

Hyunjin's frustration boiled over at Felix's accusation. His hands clenched into fists, ready to confront Felix, but Minho swiftly stepped in, holding Hyunjin back.

"Hey, calm down," Minho said firmly, his voice cutting through the rising tension.

"Felix, think about it," Minho continued, keeping a firm grip on Hyunjin's shoulder. "If Hyunjin was behind this, why would he be here trying to help us figure out who STAY is? He’s been manipulated just like the rest of us."

"He could be lying." He said.

Minho shook his head. "Maybe, but Hyunjin has an alibi. Right, Hyunjin?"

Hyunjin's face went pale, and he looked down, unable to meet anyone's gaze. The room fell silent, the tension palpable.

"Hyunjin?" you prompted, your voice a mix of concern and confusion.

Hyunjin swallowed hard, his voice barely above a whisper. "I… I was at the warehouse. But it wasn't what you think. STAY told me to set the stuff up for someone to view. I didn't know all of you would show up....." he said. "I thought I had more time to leave.... Then I saw someone chasing after me, so I ran."

"You?" you said, your voice barely above a whisper yet filled with disbelief. "It was you?"

Hyunjin froze, the weight of your words hitting him hard. He met your gaze, his expression a mix of guilt and remorse, knowing what would come next.

"You're the one who hurt Seungmin?" The question hung in the air, heavy with accusation and the need for clarity.

Hyunjin swallowed hard, his jaw tight as he struggled to find the right words. "I... I didn't mean for any of this to happen," he finally admitted, his voice strained with emotion. "STAY told me to set things up, but I never intended for anyone to get hurt... God I'm sorry..."

His eyes pleaded for understanding, but the pain in your heart overshadowed any immediate forgiveness. " Please dont tell any of this to Chan." he said quietly.

You took a step back, needing to distance yourself from the situation. The room felt suffocating, filled with accusations and revelations that shattered the fragile peace you had desperately clung to.

"I can't," you managed to say, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and hurt. "I need to go."

Minho reached out, trying to stop you. "Y/N, please, we need to figure this out together. You can't just—"

You shook your head, tears welling up in your eyes. "I just... I can't right now," your tone final as you turned away, unable to bear the weight of their presence any longer. Your mind raced with unanswered questions and the painful realization that everything you thought you knew had been turned upside down.

Without another word, you took the box and hurried out of the dorm, the sound of their voices fading behind you, each one grappling with their own guilt and the devastating consequences of their actions. The truth had finally surfaced, but it had come at a cost none of them could have anticipated. The world outside seemed distant and surreal as you walked in the direction of your house.

You arrived home feeling utterly devastated. Every step felt heavier as you walked through the door, the familiar comfort of your home offering little solace in the face of betrayal and deceit.

Chan was in the living room, a wide smile spreading across his face as he saw you enter. "Good afteroon, Y/N!" he exclaimed cheerfully, his eyes bright with happiness. "Where did you disappear off to?"

You couldn't find the words to answer immediately. The truth threatened to spill out, but the pain was still too raw, too overwhelming to articulate.

"I just needed a breather," you replied with a fake smile. "Nothing too adventurous, I promise."

You collapsed onto the nearest couch. Chan's gaze shifted back to the box in your hands, his brow furrowing slightly. "What's in your hands there?" he asked gently, noticing your hesitation.

You looked down at the box in your hands and then back up at Chan with a small smile. "Just what I'm wearing for the date," you replied softly, hoping to steer the conversation away from the heavier thoughts weighing on your mind.

Chan's eyes widened slightly in surprise, his expression turning curious. "Oh, really?" he asked, his tone filled with interest. I've been looking forward to our date tonight. Are you excited?"

His enthusiasm was contagious, and for a brief moment, you allowed yourself to be swept up in his positivity.

"Yeah," you replied softly, managing a more genuine smile now. "I am. It'll be nice to just relax and enjoy some time together."

"That's great to hear. I can't wait." As he continued talking, his excitement filled the room. "I actually need to head out soon. I have a photoshoot in a few minutes," he explained apologetically, glancing at the clock. "But I'll meet you at the restaurant tonight, okay?"

Despite the heaviness in your heart, Chan's genuine enthusiasm lifted your spirits.

"Sounds perfect," you replied, grateful for his understanding and support. "I'll see you there."

Chan leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead before heading towards the door. "Take care of yourself, Y/N. I love you."

With that, he left, his infectious positivity lingering in the air.

As Chan left, his words echoed in your mind. "I love you." The weight of those three words mingled with the sea of emotions you were feeling. You wanted to believe in the simplicity of his love, in the comfort it promised amidst the chaos.

But the truth you had just confronted threatened to overshadow everything. The betrayal, the deceit—it was a shadow you couldn't escape, even in Chan's loving embrace.

You set the box down on the coffee table, its contents a reminder of the tangled web of lies and secrets. With a heavy sigh, you sank deeper into the couch, feeling the weight of exhaustion settle over you.

Minutes passed like hours as you sat there, lost in thoughts that refused to quiet. The sound of Chan's departure lingered in the silence, leaving behind a hollow ache in your chest.

Eventually, you roused yourself, realizing that dwelling on the pain wouldn't change the reality you faced. Tonight's date with Chan loomed ahead.

With a mix of curiosity and defiance, you opened the box and pulled out the dress. The emerald green dress shimmered in the light.

Why this dress? Why did Stay want me to have it?

Running your fingers over the fabric, you decided to wear it, feeling a strange pull to engage with the mystery rather than shy away from it.

After a quick shower and a bit of makeup, you slipped into the dress, its smooth texture clinging comfortably to your figure. Standing before the mirror, you assessed the overall look. The dress seemed to carry an air of intrigue, as if it held secrets yet to be uncovered. It was as if by donning this dress, you were stepping into a role—a role that STAY had laid out for you.

You hailed a cab to La Lumière, an exquisite restaurant known for its luxurious ambiance and gourmet cuisine. The cab ride was a blur of thoughts and emotions, the dress's presence a constant reminder of the enigmatic message from STAY.

As you arrived at the restaurant, the evening sun began to set, casting a warm glow over the elegant facade of La Lumière. The valet greeted you with a smile as you stepped out of the cab, feeling a mixture of nerves and anticipation.

Inside, the restaurant dazzled with its crystal chandeliers, soft music, and the murmur of patrons enjoying their meals. The maître d' welcomed you warmly and escorted you to a table set in a secluded corner, overlooking a garden.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. As you settled into your seat, your eyes scanned the room, searching for Chan. Moments later, you spotted him approaching with a smile that softened the edges of your unease.

Chan approached you with confident strides, dressed in a tailored black suit that accentuated his broad shoulders and lean frame. The soft lighting of the restaurant's ambiance cast a subtle glow on his features. His dark hair was neatly styled, adding to his effortlessly sophisticated appearance.

"Y/N," Chan greeted you warmly, his eyes alight with affection as he took your hand in his. "You look absolutely stunning."

You couldn't help but return his smile, feeling a flutter of warmth in your chest at his compliment. "Thank you," you replied softly, the tension of the evening slowly easing in his presence. "I'm glad you think so."

Chan leaned in slightly, his gaze lingering on you with an affectionate glow. "I always think so," he murmured sincerely, his thumb gently brushing against the back of your hand.

You smiled at Chan's sincere words, feeling a sense of comfort and security in his presence. The ambient music and soft murmur of other diners seemed to fade into the background as you focused on him.

"How was your photoshoot?" you asked, trying to steer the conversation to lighter topics, at least for now.

"It went really well," Chan replied, his smile widening. "We got some great shots. I can't wait for you to see them. What about you? How was your day?"

You hesitated, not wanting to dive into the emotional morning you had been through. "It was... eventful," you said with a faint smile, hoping to keep things vague.

Chan seemed to sense your reluctance and didn't press further. Instead, he squeezed your hand gently and changed the topic. "I'm really glad we're doing this tonight. We both needed a break."

The waiter arrived to take your orders, and you both chose your meals with ease. As he left, Chan's eyes lingered on you, a tender expression on his face.

"You know," he said softly, "when I saw you tonight, it reminded me of why I fell in love with you in the first place. You just have this way of making my eyes light up whenever I see you.

You felt your cheeks warm at his words, a small smile tugging at your lips. "You're just saying that."

"No, I mean it," Chan insisted, his gaze steady. "You've become my heart, and I can't imagine my life without you. I love you more than words can express, and I want to spend every moment showing you just how much you mean to me."

You felt your heart skip a beat at Chan's heartfelt words, his sincerity washing over you like a warm embrace. His gaze held yours, unwavering and filled with a depth of emotion that mirrored your own feelings.

"I love you too, Chan," you replied softly, your voice laced with affection. "More than you know."

A tender smile spread across Chan's face, his eyes crinkling at the corners with happiness. He leaned in closer, his hand reaching across the table to gently cup your cheek.

The first course arrived, beautifully presented and enticing. As you both began to eat, Chan kept the conversation light, talking about funny moments from his photoshoot and sharing amusing anecdotes that had you laughing despite yourself.

"So, there was this one pose they wanted me to do," Chan said with an amused grin, leaning in to share the story. "I had to hold this giant lollipop for the shoot. The thing was, I kept dropping it. They must have brought me like 40 lollipops! It was like a curse or something. Every time I tried to strike a pose, down went the lollipop."

You giggled, imagining the scene. "I wish I could have seen that."

"Oh, there are pictures," Chan assured you with a grin. "I'm sure they'll surface eventually."

As the evening progressed, the conversation flowed naturally, moving from light-hearted anecdotes to deeper, more meaningful topics. Chan's presence was like a balm to your troubled heart, his warmth and care enveloping you in a sense of safety you had almost forgotten.

As dessert was served—a decadent chocolate fondant with vanilla ice cream—Chan leaned in, his voice soft. "Remember our first date? How nervous we both were?"

You smiled at the memory. "Yes, you kept knocking over your glass.,,, and dropping your fork"

"So did you! we both reached down and knocked out heads togehter under the table." he chuckled. "We've come a long way since then."

"Yeah instead of forks your dropping lolipops now," you said

"I guess some things never change," he said.

As the last bites of dessert disappeared and the evening began to wind down, Chan glanced at his watch with a slight frown. "I just realized, I left my laptop at the studio," he admitted, a hint of frustration in his voice. "I need to go back and get it."

You nodded understandingly, though a part of you felt a pang of disappointment that the evening was ending sooner than expected. "It's alright," you reassured him with a smile, trying to hide any hint of sadness. "I can take a cab home. Don't worry about it."

Chan's expression softened, and he reached across the table to squeeze your hand gently. "I'm really sorry," he apologized sincerely. "I didn't mean for our night to end like this."

"It's okay, really," you replied, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze in return.

With a lingering touch and a final exchange of affectionate glances, you both stood up from the table, ready to part ways for the night.

As Chan hailed a cab for you outside the restaurant, you couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions swirling within you—gratitude for the evening spent together, a lingering sadness that it had to end so abruptly, and a deep affection for Chan, whose presence had comforted you through the turmoil of the day.

As you settled into the backseat of the cab, Chan leaned in through the window, his warm gaze fixed on yours. "I'll call you as soon as I get home with the laptop," he promised softly, his voice filled with sincerity.

You nodded, a small smile gracing your lips. "Take care," you said, your voice betraying a hint of reluctance to part ways.

"I will," Chan replied with a gentle smile, his hand resting briefly on the window before he stepped back.

The cab pulled away from the curb, and you watched Chan's figure recede in the distance, a bittersweet feeling settling over you. As the city lights blurred outside the window, you reflected on the evening—the laughter, the heartfelt conversations, and the love you had for Chan.

Arriving home, you thanked the driver and stepped out onto the familiar street, the cool night air enveloping you.

As you approached your doorstep, your mind still lingering on the evening with Chan, you reached for the doorknob out of habit. To your surprise, it turned easily under your touch. You blinked, a flicker of confusion crossing your features. You never left the door unlocked—it was a simple precaution you always took.

Entering cautiously, your senses heightened, you scanned the living room. Everything seemed undisturbed, yet a feeling of unease lingered. The air felt charged, as if something had shifted in your absence. A soft rustling sound from the direction of the stairs drew your attention, setting your nerves on edge.

Your phone, suddenly, blinked out of existence, leaving you stranded in the dark room. You stared at it, praying it would come back to life.

But as seconds stretched on, it became painfully clear that your phone wasn't coming back. Its sudden death left you exposed, vulnerable to whatever dangers lurked in the shadows of your home.

Minutes tick by, each one stretching into an eternity as you strain to hear any sign of the intruder's presence. Your breath catches in your throat with every creak of the floorboards, every subtle shift in the air. The tension is palpable, suffocating, as you wait in the confined space of the closet, your heart pounding in your chest.

And then, just when you're starting to believe you imagined it all, you hear footsteps approaching. Each footfall reverberates through the floor, sending a shiver down your spine.

Your heart lurches into your throat as the closet door swings open, flooding the small space with blinding light. There they stand—the intruder—their eyes wild with fervor as they gaze down at you, cowering in the darkness.

"You're finally here," they breathe, their voice a mixture of awe and desperation. "I've been waiting for this moment for so long."

With trembling hands, you quickly move, darting past them as fast as you can and rushing into the kitchen. Your heart pounds in your chest as you grab a knife, the cold metal offering little help in the face of danger. "Stay back!" you yell out. "Dont come any closer."

But as you turn around, ready to defend yourself, you find the intruder standing in the doorway, their posture relaxed, almost casual, a mask covering their face.

The mask worn by the intruder is unsettlingly intricate. It's made of smooth, white porcelain, molded into a serene, almost doll-like face. The features are delicate yet haunting—the eyes hollow and dark, giving an impression of endless depth. Thin, painted lips are set in a neutral expression, devoid of emotion. The mask covers the entirety of the intruder's face, leaving no hint of their true identity behind its eerie facade.

"I see you wore the dress" they say suddenly.

You recongnize their voice. But why?

"Why are you here?" you manage to ask, your voice trembling despite your efforts to remain composed. You know you need to keep them talking, buying time to figure out who they are and what they want.

The intruder pauses for a moment as if considering their response. "I've come to ensure things are how they were supposed be," they finally reply, their voice carrying an eerie calmness that sends a shiver down your spine. They take one step closer.

You instinctively take a step back, your mind racing as you try to piece together the puzzle of their identity.

"Stay? Is that what you call yourself?"

The intruder remains silent for a tense moment, seemingly unmoved by your words.

"Why do you ask questions you already know the answers to?" they reply calmly, their tone sending a chill through your bones.

You continue to stall, hoping to glean more information that might help unravel this mystery. "What do you want from me?" you ask, your voice steadier now as you press for clarity.

The intruder's gaze behind the porcelain mask lingers on you for a moment longer, their expression inscrutable. "Everything," they say.

The intruder's laughter echoes in the room, a chilling sound that sends a shiver down your spine. It's a laugh you've heard before, but distorted by the mask and the eerie circumstances. As they laugh, you strain to place the familiar cadence, trying to ignore the fear creeping into your mind.

And then it clicks.

"Aera," you gasp, the name escaping your lips in a mix of disbelief and horror.

The laughter abruptly stops, replaced by an eerie silence that hangs heavily in the air. Aera stands before you, still masked and unnervingly composed, her gaze piercing through the porcelain facade.

"Why?" you manage to ask, your voice trembling as you struggle to comprehend the betrayal unfolding before you.

Aera removes the mask confirming your guess.

"Bingo," she mocks, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she echoes your earlier realization. "You finally figured it out."

Your heart sinks at her callous response, the sting of betrayal cutting deep. You struggle to comprehend her motives, the lack of empathy or regret hardening your resolve.

"You finally see me now, huh?" Aera's words carry a bitter edge, mocking and cold.

"See...you? What?" You stare at her, confusion furrowing your brow.

Aera's gaze hardens, her eyes narrowing with resentment. "You don't remember, do you?" Her voice drips with disdain. "No, of course you don't. You only cared about yourself."

Confusion clouds your thoughts as you try to recall any significant moments between you and Aera.

" We grew up in the same neighborhood, attended the same schools, and even shared dance and vocal lessons, " She said.

But your paths had rarely intersected beyond casual acquaintance.

"We weren't close," you finally manage to say, your voice tinged with uncertainty.

Aera scoffs, the sound cutting through the tension in the room. "Close enough for you to take everything I ever wanted," she retorts bitterly.

You struggle to comprehend her accusation. "What do you mean?"

Aera's bitterness spills over as she recounts years of shared aspirations and unspoken rivalry. "We were always competing, whether you realized it or not," she admits harshly. "I should've had your life. I went through the same programs, the same auditions."

You listen intently, the pieces of a long-forgotten puzzle starting to click into place. Memories of school performances, talent shows, and the buzz surrounding Aera's undeniable talent begin to resurface. She had always been the standout, the star trainee whose potential had drawn the attention of talent scouts.

"I was the star of our school," Aera continues bitterly, her words painting a picture of missed opportunities and unfulfilled promises. "Everyone knew about me. I had dreams of making it big, just like you.....And then JYP came," Aera says, her voice lowering as she recounts the turning point. "They were interested in me. They saw my potential, just like everyone else did."

The realization dawns on you as Aera's story unfolds. You rememember that day...

"But they signed you instead," Aera concludes bitterly, her gaze locked on yours with a mix of resentment and resignation. "They chose you over me."

...It was the day you met Zayne, your manager.

The weight of her words settles heavily on your shoulders. The twist of fate that had catapulted you into the spotlight while leaving Aera behind, despite her undeniable talent and years of hard work.

"I didn't know," you say softly, your voice filled with genuine remorse. "I didn't know it was supposed to be you."

Aera's expression softens slightly, her eyes reflecting years of hurt and longing. "You got signed," she continues bitterly, her voice tinged with resignation. "You became the biggest star. And then you met Chan."

"I met Chan when we were young," Aera explains, a hint of nostalgia softening her tone. "We hit it off immediately. He was the one I dreamed of building a future with. But then both of you got signed, became trainees for JYP, and everything changed."

Her words hang between you like an accusation, echoing the unspoken truth of lost opportunities and shattered dreams. Aera's gaze, once soft with nostalgia, now hardened with years of pent-up frustration.

"I watched as you both soared to heights I could only dream of," she continues bitterly, her voice trembling slightly with suppressed emotion. "Stray Kids, Chan, Zayne, everything that should have been mine."

"But why? Why do all this?" you say.

"Because, you conceeded little bitch, If I cant have this life then neither can you. You dont deserve it. I'm the onle who worked hard for it, I'm the reason why zayne was there in the first place." she said bitterly.

"So if its between the two of us, why bring all the members throught it. Hyunjin, minho, seungmin, they didnt deserve any of that."

"because they were all in love with you. Your everything to all of them..."

"And your nothing to anybody."

She is quiet. The room feels suffocating, the tension palpable as you both stand there, trapped in the aftermath of years of unspoken grievances. Aera's silence speaks of years of watching from the sidelines, of dreams shattered and hearts broken. It's a silence that speaks louder than any words could, revealing the depth of her feelings and the wounds that may never fully heal.

"I didn't recognize you," you whisper, the realization hitting you like a wave of regret. "When you became my assistant, I didn't see who you really were."

Aera stops in her tracks, her back still turned to you. The bitterness in her voice seeps through her words. "Of course you didn't," she scoffs softly. "To you, I was just another face in the crowd, someone who was supposed to fade into the background."

You struggle to find the right words, wanting to explain, to make amends somehow. "I didn't mean to overlook you," you say, your voice tinged with sorrow. "I was caught up in my own world, chasing after what I thought was success....I'm sorry," you say, the words feeling inadequate in the face of Aera's pain.

Her gaze softens momentarily, a flicker of resignation crossing her features. "It's too late for sorry now," she replies quietly. "You have what you wanted. Everything I thought should have been mine."

You struggle to find the words to respond.

Her eyes, once filled with hurt and bitterness, now narrow with determination as she launches herself into action.

With startling speed, Aera lunges forward, her fists a blur of motion aimed directly at you. You barely manage to block her initial strikes, the impact jolting you backwards. The fight intensifies as you desperately parry her relentless assault, each blow ringing out like a bell in the confined space.

In a desperate move, Aera maneuvers you towards the cupboards, her strength and determination surprising you. With a powerful shove, she sends you crashing into the wooden cabinets, the impact reverberating through your body. Pain shoots through your back as the force knocks the wind out of you.

Gritting your teeth against the pain, you push back with equal fervor. Adrenaline courses through your veins, fueling your determination to end the confrontation. You muster every ounce of skill and agility, countering Aera's attacks with precision and ferocity.

The room echoes with the clash of bodies and the sound of splintering wood as the fight rages on. Sweat beads on your brow, mingling with the sting of exertion. Aera fights with a fervor fueled by years of resentment and perceived injustice, her strikes relentless and focused.

The battle with your emotions was just as intense as the physical struggle with Aera. You didnt want to hurt her. But you had to defend yourself. You knew you had to make a choice, the knife you had grabbed earlier gleaming in the kitchen light.

But before you can make a decision, you hear the distant wail of sirens approaching, the sound a stark reminder of the danger lurking just beyond your doorstep.

She flinches at the sound, her eyes darting towards the door with a mix of fear and resignation. For a moment, the facade of confidence slips, revealing the vulnerable girl beneath.

"I have to go," she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper. "But I'll be back. I promise."

And with that, she turns and begins to run as fast as she can towards the back door. With a swift motion, she disappears into the night, leaving you alone in the darkness, the echoes of her words lingering like a haunting refrain.

As tears stream down your cheeks, you step back, your slowly back banging against the cupboard, and you slide down onto the floor, overwhelmed by a flood of emotions. The events of the night felt like a nightmare, each moment etched into your memory with vivid clarity.

Suddenly, the door bursts open, and in rush Chan, Changbin, and Minho, their faces a mix of concern and panic. Chan's eyes widen in alarm as he spots you on the floor, and he rushes towards you, dropping to his knees beside you.

"Are you okay? What happened? Are you hurt?" he bombards you with questions, his voice trembling with worry as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close.

You bury your face in Chan's chest, seeking comfort in his embrace as you try to steady your breathing.

Changbin and Minho hover nearby, their expressions mirroring Chan's concern as they scan the room for any signs of danger.

Before you can respond, the sound of heavy footsteps of approaching police officers fill the room.

Their voices loud and authoritative as they demand to know what's going on. For a moment, there's chaos as the officers mistake Chan, Changbin, and Minho for the intruders, their hands moving to their holsters in anticipation of danger.

But you quickly intervene, your voice shaky but firm as you clarify that they're your boyfriend and friends, not the ones who broke into your home. The tension in the room dissipates as the officers realize their mistake, and they quickly shift their focus to ensuring your safety and apprehending the real intruder.

Trembling in Chan's embrace, you find the courage to speak up, your voice still quivering with fear.

"Stay" you whisper.

"Of course baby...Im not going anywhere" he replies as his hand runs through your hair.

"No.. Stay," you repeat.

"Stay.......- Oh my God." He says, the words finally clicking. " They were here?"

You nod your head. He could not do anything more then stare at you in disbelief.

"I was so scared, Chan. I didn't know what to do." You recount the events of the night, the sense of violation still fresh in your mind.

"It was Aera," you whisper, the words tumbling out in a rush. "She broke into the house... She knew everything about me, Chan. It was like she was obsessed. Not only with me, but with you.... She was in love with you"

Chan's grip tightens around you, his expression darkening with anger and concern.

"That explains the letters…" Chan murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, his words hanging in the air as he tries to make sense of the connection.

"..What letters?" you say quietly.

"They were addressed to me, but they… they felt like love letters. Like someone was watching me, wanting something more…"

"Chan... you got letters and didn't tell me?" you say.

Chan sighs, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I didn't think much of them," he admits, his voice tinged with regret. "They seemed harmless—compliments, admiration, nothing threatening."

Suddenlt, Two officers enter the kitchen area, their expressions serious yet professional. One introduces herself as Officer Jin, while her partner, Officer Kang, takes note of the surroundings.

"Thank you for coming," Chan says.

Officer Jin nods, her gaze shifting between you and Chan. "Can you please tell us what happened tonight?" she asks, her tone gentle yet authoritative.

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself to recount the events. "I.. got home and the door was unlocked," you begin, your voice steady despite the lingering unease. "I thought it was an intruder, so I texted Chan."

You continue. "I hid in the closet.. but they found me anyways. It was Aera.. my assistant. She had broken in. " he explains, his brow furrowing with concern. "She seemed... unstable."

Officer Kang scribbles notes in his pad, his expression focused as he listens intently. "Did she say why she was here?" he prompts, his eyes flicking up to gauge your reactions.

"She mentioned something about wanting what I have," you answer, recalling Aera's bitter words with a shiver. "She seemed fixated on the idea that my life should have been hers."

Officer Jin nods thoughtfully, her expression sympathetic. "And did she threaten you in any way?"

You hesitate, the memory of Aera's unsettling presence vivid in your mind. "She attacked me." you respond quietly.

His brow furrows ever so slightly, a shadow of concern darkening his features. You notice his jaw tighten, a telltale sign of his anger.

"I tried to defend myself... But she only stopped when we heard the sirens. Then she ran out the backdoor." With that, one of the other officers immediently left towards the backdoor.

Chan's gaze softens, his thumb gently wiping away your tears as he pulls you closer.

"Im sorry you had to go through that. In the meantime, we'll increase patrol in your area and provide you with a direct line to reach us if anything else happens."

You nod gratefully, feeling a sense of relief knowing that the authorities are taking the situation seriously. As the officers continue to ask detailed questions and jot down notes, Chan remains by your side.

You thank the officers and they leave, leaving you alone in the house with the other 3 boys. Chan pulls you into a tight embrace, whispering words of reassurance and comfort in your ear.

And in that moment, surrounded by the warmth of his embrace and the support of your friends, you begin to feel a glimmer of hope that you'll be able to put this terrifying ordeal behind you.

"I'm not letting you out of my sight tonight," he says, his tone firm yet gentle. "You're coming with me. I'll pack a bag for you." He moves to get up, but you cling to him tighter, the thought of being separated from him filling you with a deep sense of unease.

"Please, don't leave me," you plead, your voice barely above a whisper.

Chan's expression changes, his eyes reflecting the depth of his love and concern for you. "Okay..I won't, I promise," he assures you, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead.

With a sense of urgency, he gestures to Minho, who understands what is being asked of him.

Minho nods silently, understanding the gravity of the situation, and hurries off to gather your belongings. Meanwhile, Chan remains by your side.

As he returns with the bag packed, Chan helps you to your feet, his touch gentle yet reassuring. "Let's go," he says softly, his voice filled with determination.

With trembling limbs, you follow Chan out of the house, your heart racing with a mixture of fear and gratitude. But as his hand finds yours, intertwining your fingers together, you find solace in the warmth of his touch.

You get into the car, Changbin in the driver's seat, Minho in the front, and you and Chan in the back. You lean on Chan's shoulder as the car moves forward, finding comfort in his presence.

Your ready to put all this behind you. You allow yourself to close your eyes and rest.

Buzz

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whipped-for-kpop-fics · 6 months ago

Text

Session Two; Secret's Out - L.JH

🎙Who; Lee Jihoon (Seventeen) x reader 🎙What; smut, fwb, producer/idol Jihoon 🎙Wordcount; 3.8k 🎙Warnings; profanity, high heel kink, dick stepping(light), marks, slight pain kink, manhandling, fingering, penetrative sex, protected sex, dirty talk

Summary; "Everyone knows that Jihoon does not like high heels. Everyone assumes it's because he's insecure about his height. Everyone happens to be very fucking wrong."

Minors do NOT interact, which means liking/reblogging/commenting on this story. I WILL block any account that interacts without an age indicator in the bio.

-2024 Masterlist- 🎙 In The Studio Masterlist 🎙

Part 2/? of In The Studio; a series of Jihoon fucking in his studio.

Jihoon doesn't like it when you wear high heels. You've always assumed it's because of the added height and he's never really given you or anyone reason to think otherwise. When the guys teased him about it in the past, Jihoon never corrected them and just made vague sounds in response, if he even responded because he often ignored the jabs. So it makes logical sense that his aversion to you in high heels is because he's sensitive about his height and heels always make you much taller than him. And being a good friend, you take that at face value and refrain from wearing any heels around him, not wanting to make your precious friend feel insecure in any way.

The plan on this day isn't to make him insecure either, you'd genuinely never want that. But you know that even though you two have plans, he'll still be working for quite some time once you arrive at his studio because he always fucking does that. Which means he'll be busy and you'll both be seated in different places so taking the chance to break in the heels you just bought won't cause any problems, right?

"What are you doing?" Jihoon asks as soon as you sit on the couch and open the shoe box, revealing the brand new sleek black stilettos inside. He isn't even back in his chair from letting you into the studio. "You know I don't like you wearing heels."

"I've got to break them in and it's not like I've got anything else to do while you spend the next hour telling me you'll be done in a minute." You point out. "And we're both going to be sat down the whole time, you won't even notice the height."

"The height doesn't bother me." He informs, making you look up at him questioningly.

"It doesn't?"

Jihoon scoffs and crosses his arms over his chest. "No, I've told you assholes, I'm not insecure about my height."

"Then why are you against heels?" You raise an eyebrow in intrigue, trying to figure it out yourself. But Jihoon gives you no assistance in any way and simply sits down and turns back to his desk with clearly zero intention of answering. You stare at the back of his head for a second then give in trying to magically understand and go back to taking your brand-new shoes out and slipping them onto your feet. Of course, you already tried them on in the store so you know you like them quite a lot; they're simple but elegant with a little dainty silver chain around your ankle. "Will you take a picture for me?" You ask as you take your phone from your pocket and extend your legs out, already pretty sure he will refuse.

As expected, Jihoon's response is simple. "No."

"Fine," You try to get a good picture of your new shoes to send to your friend but the angles are quite frankly put, shit. So you get up and move aside to prop your phone up on the floor on selfie mode and set a timer. You quickly shuffle back just enough to get a decent view of the lower half of your legs.

You don't notice because you're busy trying to take a photo that really shows off the shoes, but Jihoon looks over the second he hears you move. Though he's not really paying attention to you but your feet. He keeps trying to look away and finish his work but he's so distracted. You're driving him insane and you don't even notice.

"Okay, I can't decide which one is better." Your sudden voice jolts Jihoon back to reality and he looks up at you to see that you're now just standing there with your phone in your hands, flicking between two photos. "Will you pick for me?" He doesn't have the chance to respond before you turn and approach him. Jihoon's gaze drops back to your shoes and he swallows hard. That you notice. "Ji?" You wonder, stopping at his side and offering your phone. He makes a vague grunt of a sound in response. "Will you pick for me?"

It takes a few seconds for Jihoon to force his eyes to focus on the little screen held out to him. He just stares as you flick between the two photos slow enough that he can get a good view of them both and compare them mentally. At least that's what you hope he's doing. Really, he's just dumbly staring with slightly widened eyes, no thoughts in his head.

"Which one?" You prompt when he remains silent for too long.

"Ei-" He starts but his voice cracks so he quickly clears his throat. "Either."

"Either?"

"Either."

"Right." You mutter, looking at him suspiciously and locking your phone blindly while lowering it. Jihoon lets out a relieved little exhale. "What's going on with you?"

His head darts up to look at you. He looks very caught out, eyes big and cheeks tinted a soft pink. "What? Me? Nothing." He tries to turn back to his computer but you grab the back of his chair and pull it away from the desk. Jihoon yelps and tries to catch the edge of the desk but he doesn't react fast enough, giving you space to nudge him further back and move over to stand right in the way of his computer. "I need to-"

"What's going on?" You demand, crossing your arms over your chest. It feels oddly reminiscent of the very first time your relationship turned from platonic to sexual those months back. You've had an awful lot of sexual encounters since watching him jerk off in that very chair, but you can never forget that first one. Your eyes drop down to his crotch, you're pretty sure he'd be honest if you had disturbed him when he was in the middle of masturbating, in fact, he's told you as much multiple times before and it always ended with you both getting off in some way together. And there's no bulge in his sweatpants, so clearly, that's not the issue here anyway.

"Nothing, let me-" He tries to scoot forward, one hand reaching forward to urge you aside but you lift your foot to put it on the edge of the chair between his thighs to stop it moving. Jihoon immediately freezes, eyes blown wide and glued to your foot a handful of inches away from his crotch. "Fuck," He whispers, slowly leaning back in his seat until his back is pressed against the backrest while his hands grip the armrests.

You stare at him consideringly for a moment, trying to decipher what the fuck is going on here and the whole time, Jihoon's wide eyes remain on your heeled foot. You adjust it a little as you lean back against the desk for balance, you don't intentionally move your foot closer to his crotch, the flat of your shoe more firmly pressed to the seat between his thighs, yet it happens and Jihoon swallows thickly.

It's now that you notice the subtle change in his sweatpants, a sign that Lee Jihoon is getting hard. And suddenly, it all makes an awful lot of sense. Why Jihoon doesn't like it when you wear high heels. Why he's been looking at your feet darkly in what you had initially assumed was hatred. Why he can't seem to remove his gaze from your heeled foot now it's so close to his hardening dick. Lee Jihoon has a high heel kink.

An amused smirk tilts your lips up as you unfold your arms and rest your palms on the desk either side of your ass. "Oh, I see what this is." You muse, tone a little teasing. You know from experience that Jihoon can handle a little teasing where his kinks are concerned, he does the same to you too, but you both never push too far, still walk carefully along that edge ready to pull back in a second if you notice the other getting uncomfortable. Without hesitation, you lift your foot and lightly press it against that rapidly swelling bulge. Jihoon's head immediately tips back and he lets out a broken little moan. "You've got a high heel kink, don't you, babyboy?" You coo, applying a little more pressure and grinning in satisfaction at the moan it pulls from Jihoon's chest. He doesn't even try to respond, just grips the armrests harder and subtly rolls his hips up to press his cock harder against the underside of your shoe. "Cute,"

Jihoon always looks so fucking beautiful like this, when he's focused on his pleasure and moving his hips to search for it without a care in the world, no shame in his veins just pure arousal. You truly do wish you could have him like this always; keep him to yourself selfishly and allow no one else the pleasure of this sight. But you can't, you both may only be seeing each other sexually but you also have agreed that it doesn't have to remain that way at all. Still, it doesn't stop you from wishing this moment could last.

Unfortunately, your legs have other thoughts and the position soon grows uncomfortable and unsteady for you. Jihoon's head jolts up when you remove your foot. His eyes are so heavy-lidded when they land on you and full of betrayal at you removing the source of his pleasure.

"Just give me a second." You giggle amusedly and slide yourself up onto the desk after moving aside his keyboard to give yourself space. "Come here." You encourage, motioning him closer with a curl of your finger. Jihoon immediately rolls over in his chair between your spread thighs and grabs your right leg himself to lift back up and put your foot back against his aching erection.

He doesn't even say anything, just holds your ankle in his left hand and uses his right to press down on the top of your foot and keep the pressure how he wants it while he essentially humps your sole. It's both entertaining and pretty arousing. Seeing Jihoon be so utterly shameless always does something to you, always makes you throb with need for him.

You can't help but wonder how far this kink of his goes, if he just wants to rub against the flat of your shoe, or whether the heel itself plays a part, though you can't imagine it would do much but hurt in a non-pleasurable kind of way if he rutted against the thin stiletto heel. Still, he has a high heel kink, not a regular shoe kink, so the heel has to be important, right?

Curiously, you lift your left foot and place it flat on his right thigh. Jihoon's closed eyes snap open and look at your left foot, his hips slowing down a little now that you have pulled his attention elsewhere. You're very aware of the fact that Jihoon does like some pain during sex, you're not sure of the extent but you're confident enough to not worry here, knowing that he can handle it. You adjust your footing a little then tilt your foot back, digging the thin heel into his thick thigh. Instantly, Jihoon moans, thick and needy as his head tilts back and he goes back to rutting up desperately against your shoe.

"Oh, baby," You hum appreciatively. "Gonna make yourself cum like this, hm?"

"C-can't," It's the first thing he's said in a little while, the first attempt he's even made to utter a single syllable. His voice is deep in the way it gets when he's so full of arousal that he can't think straight. It's truly one of your favourite sounds and always sends a shiver down your spine.

"Can't?" You repeat, adjusting your left foot so it's higher up and angled so that when you press your heel back down against him, it's on his inner thigh. His back arches as he gasps and moans, much higher in pitch than his speaking voice in a contradiction that would make you giggle if you weren't too focused on the arousal simmering in your stomach.

"Can't," He confirms then grips both of your ankles hard to still both feet and give him enough mental clarity to open his eyes and land his dangerously dark gaze on you. You're pretty sure you know what this means and feel yourself clench on nothing in anticipation. Jihoon's jaw flexes a little as he clenches it, and then he's up, kicking his chair away carelessly to grip your thighs and pull you right to the edge of the desk while his lips crash onto yours with burning desperation, tongue quickly darting into your mouth to find your own. "Need you," He informs breathlessly when he pulls back far too quickly for your liking but his hands are working on the fastening of your jeans so you really don't have it in you to complain. Jihoon is about to fuck you and based on how he's acting and the pure need in his eyes, he's going to fuck you so good.

"You need to move so I can take these off." You remind, nudging at his firm stomach to try and get him to back up, but Jihoon refuses. "Ji,"

"No," He answers, moving just enough to pull open the top drawer on his right and grab a condom, one of many he keeps in that drawer so that he can fuck you whenever the mood strikes you both. Admittedly, it's a lot.

"What? How else-" You yelp when he wraps an arm around your waist to lift you enough that he can roughly try and tug your jeans and underwear down. He only manhandles you when he's turned on so much that he can't even think rationally and the only thought on his mind is burying his cock as deep into you as humanly possible. And knowing that, being manhandled by Jihoon only turns you on more than the show of strength itself. You brace yourself with one hand and help him with the other quickly.

Together, you work the clothing down to your mid-thigh and then Jihoon puts you down and forces his hand into the gap between your thighs and the clothes.

"Ji," You gasp as he plunges two fingers right into you, the jeans around your thighs make it hard to spread your legs so you're kind of tight like this, but Jihoon knows you, knows you can take it, especially when you're wet like this. Plus, he already fucked you this morning in your bed so he is certain you can handle this rough behaviour right now.

"Get me ready," He grunts, tracing his lips over your jaw and bullying a third finger into you to curl and stretch them. He can't really thrust them at this angle, he's got very limited space but he does what he can to make you gasp and get wetter by the second.

You reach aside blindly until you find the condom on the desk to grab before your hands find his waistband and yank open the tie to loosen them. You don't even push down his sweats that far, you both can't reach and don't fucking care, just want to get his cock out and in you. Quickly, you shove down his boxers a little and pull his erection out so that as soon as you've got the condom out of the wrapper, you can roll it onto him.

"Hands on the desk." He orders, pulling his fingers from you to grab your thighs and push them up, making your body naturally lean backwards; so you plant your palms on the desk behind you for support and watch as he lifts your legs to his shoulders, resting your calves there before reaching down to grab his erection and line up with you.

Jihoon only glances up at you to check in quickly and noticing that you're more than okay with all of this, he wastes no time burying his hard cock in you right to the hilt. It's another thing he doesn't do unless he's insanely turned on and desperate to cum, go fast from the get-go, he'll usually ease into you to allow you both to savour the feeling of his cock dragging against your walls. But when he's like this, he doesn't have the patience for that, he just wants to cum with your pussy hugging him tight.

You both moan at the feeling of getting what you both so desperately want. Jihoon takes a second, then another, squeezing your thighs appreciatively like he always does when he's buried in you, and then he pulls back and starts to fuck into you in short powerful thrusts aimed right at your most sensitive spots. Your head drops back as you moan with every thrust, little ah-ah-ahs that give him all the information he needs to know that he's fucking you right.

As much as Jihoon is desperate to cum, he will never pick his pleasure over your own. Without fail, he'll always make sure you orgasm before him even like this. Though he doesn't have the patience for multiple when he's in this state like he usually gives you before allowing himself to fall over the edge with you. Today is no different, Jihoon wants you to cum first and soon, he can feel himself hurting towards his end. You're so fucking tight like this and he can see those fucking heels in his peripheral and feel the blooming bruises on this thigh from you digging them into his delicate skin. So he slides one hand down from your thigh to force its way between them and thumb at your clit harshly, it's messy and not very coordinated for a usually very coordinated man but there's not much else he can do like this. There's not much else he needs to do. He feels you tightening up around him and groans, hand on your thigh squeezing encouragingly and hips keeping the exact same pace and angle to not risk ruining your impending orgasm.

"Ji," You warn, voice getting higher.

"I-I know," He replies and squeezes again. "Cum for me, baby,"

It's a few more rough presses of his thumb against your clit and then you're tensing up a split second before your back bows and you let out strings of moans and curses mixed with variations of his name in a combination that is pure music to his ears. There's a fraction of a moment here where he regrets not pressing record on the room mic so that he can listen back on this session like he has many of them before, but he doesn't have the brain power to consider it for long.

Jihoon knows you don't need him to keep playing with your clit or fucking the same way to ride through your orgasm so he moves both hands to press against the back of your thighs, folding you up. He hadn't intended for your heels to wind up pressed to his chest, it's just a real fucking happy accident that causes him to rapidly piston his hips, fucking his cock into you with nothing but the intention to cum.

You whine at the fast stimulation, it's teetering on the brink of making you too sensitive as the dregs of your orgasm trickle through your system, and feeling so fucking good that you never want him to stop. It feels good, perhaps too good even but you just take it, eyes rolled back and head lolled back on your shoulders.

After a moment or two, you have enough presence of mind to lift your head and look at Jihoon; his eyes are closed tight, eyebrows furrowed with utter desperate concentration as he chases his high and sweat dappling his forehead. Without thought, you press both heels into his chest and just like that, Jihoon's hips slap harshly against you a few times as his orgasm racks through his body while he chokes out gasping moans and digs his fingers into your thighs tightly. You don't bruise quite as easily as him but you're pretty sure he's going to create at least a few faint ones with how hard he's holding you. Not that you mind.

Slowly, Jihoon falls still and then loosens his hold though he doesn't open his eyes yet as he pants and tries to suck in some air.

You know he's feeling much more like himself again when his hands slide up to lift your legs by the back of your ankles so that he can press a soft, grateful kiss to the exposed skin on the top of each foot. And then he carefully pulls out of you with one hand holding the condom in place and the other supporting your ankles in one hand. He gently helps you lower your legs down before he moves aside to dispose of the condom and grab the wipes from the drawer.

"So," You start when he's back in front of you and doing his best to wipe at your sticky thighs. He looks at you and notices your grin. "High heel kink, huh?"

"Shut up." He scoffs, though there's a twitch to his lips giving away his little smile when he turns to clean himself up too then throws out the wipes.

"What?" You giggle and slide off the desk carefully to pull your underwear and jeans back up and fasten them into place. "It's cute."

"Seriously, babe, shut up."

"No." You giggle and tottle over to throw your arms around him from behind. He sighs and finishes tying up his sweatpants back in place before turning to face you, naturally putting his hands on your waist.

"Hm, maybe you can wear heels around me more." He muses, realising your modest cleavage is right in his face. He leans in and doesn't hesitate to suction onto the skin he can access like this.

"Shall we go now?" You suggest, running your fingers through his hair. He hums against your skin then smooths a hand down to your ass to slap it quickly. "Asshole."

"Mm," He agrees and steps back to eye the growing bruise then lowers his gaze to your feet. "You need to change those though, I can't be seen with my dick hard in public."

"Spoilsport."

"I'm a fucking idol, I can't risk that shit." He scoffs and moves to save his work and turn off everything while you remove the high heels and pack them neatly back into the box they came in.

"Yeah, whatever, they're off. Now let's go get take out and fuck in the backseat."

"Sounds good to me, baby."

#wkcnet #svthub #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #seventeen smut #seventeen jihoon x reader #seventeen jihoon smut #seventeen woozi x reader #seventeen woozi smut #svt jihoon x reader #svt jihoon smut #svt woozi x reader #svt woozi smut #svt smut #svt fic #seventeen fanfic

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northgazaupdates · 10 months ago

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24 January 2024

Notice for people with Instagram accounts

If any of you have questions about life in Gaza right now, there is a fantastic opportunity for you to ask them. Palestinian photographer Islam Bassam Barbari, currently located in northern Gaza, has opened up a submission box on Instagram where you can send your questions. It will only be open for less than a day, so if you have an Instagram account and have something you want to ask, this would be a good time to do so. You need to have an Instagram account to participate. I will leave reblogs open after the submission box expires in the hopes that more people will follow his account and boost his content. If he answers your question, please share across all your accounts for awareness and education purposes.

The link to the question submission is here and it will be open less than 23 hours after this post is published.

Thank you to Islam for this opportunity

#north gaza #gaza #gaza genocide #gaza strip #gaza under attack #free gaza #from the river to the sea palestine will be free #palestinian genocide #gaza journalists #gaza under fire #gaza under bombardment #gaza under siege #gaza under genocide

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scamarchive · 2 years ago

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Red Flags: How to Identify a Tumblr Scam (Pet Edition)

Has someone sent you a message requesting that you boost their sick pet fundraiser? Have you seen someone reblog a post like that? It could be a scam.

Check out this list of red flags before you boost or donate!

🚩 Red flag #1: Someone you don't know has sent you an ask out of nowhere, requesting that you boost their fundraiser

Scammers like to cover as much ground as possible. To do this, they find completely random, unrelated people through the trending and popular posts. If you reblog a trending or popular post and receive an ask soon afterwards, that's probably how they came across your blog!

Example: you watch a new release movie like 'Puss in Boots', and you reblog some trending fanart. You receive an ask about a fundraiser a few days later.

Example 2: you like some fanart of characters from the recent 'The Last of Us' episode, which is trending on tumblr. You receive an ask about a fundraiser that night.

Example 3: you reblog some cottagecore photography or another post that contains a trending aesthetic. Hours later, you receive an ask about a fundraiser.

🚩 Red flag #2: They tell you to answer their ask privately

Scammers love spamming the same copy-pasted ask to hundreds of people! They also love to reuse asks from previous scams. To reduce how many people notice the similarities between their current asks and asks from previous scams, they'll tell you to answer privately, to stop more evidence from getting out there. Also consider: if someone really has a sick pet, they should want as much exposure as they can get! Telling someone not to publish their ask seems counterintuitive, unless they have an ulterior motive.. Which a scammer will definitely have.

Knowing these red flags, check out the six scam asks below. What do they have in common?

🚩 Red flag #3: Comments are turned off in the fundraising post, or there are removed comments

Scammers preemptively turn off comments in their posts so people can't call attention to the fact they're scams. People who have real fundraisers, on the other hand, are usually glad to talk to you in the comments! Sometimes, scammers let people make comments, but there may be a message that 'some comments have been deleted or removed'. These were usually warnings from people who realized it was a scam.

🚩 Red flag #4: Their ask box is closed

Scammers preemptively turn off their ask box because they can't provide proof that the pets and vet bills belong to them. They also want to avoid angry messages from people who realize they're a scammer.

🚩 Red flag #5: They ask you to send money through paypal's 'friends and family'

On paypal, you can send strangers funds using 'goods and services', or 'friends and family'. Scammers will often ask you to send through 'friends and family' because you have very little protection and you'll have a hard time getting your money back! Scammers like to spin it as being 'faster', and they'll try to appeal to your emotions to create a sense of urgency and guilt, convincing you to send money using that option.

🚩 Red flag #6: Their posts have no tags. Their posts are all reblogs of trending posts. They don't seem to be reblogging consistently from any specific blogs

Scammers make a fresh blog for every new scam. They want to set up their blogs as fast as possible, so they cut corners, meaning that aside from their fundraising post, all their posts will be reblogs, and they won't usually have tags. The reblogs will often be of trending, easy-to-find tumblr posts! In most cases, scammers reblog posts from as many different blogs as they can, unlike the typical tumblr user who usually reblogs from select people they follow, over and over.

🚩 Red flag #7: They only have ~40 posts on their blog

Scammers know that most people won't spend more than a moment scrolling through a blog to verify its age, so they'll only populate their blogs with just enough posts to convince someone who only scrolls for a short time. Usually, the posts are all made within a few hours at most. If a blog is run by a scammer, usually you can scroll through all the posts within five minutes.

Remember: scammers want you to think 'eh, good enough'! If you're scrolling through a blog and you start to think this, scroll for another minute or two!

If you're on desktop, you can quickly get to the end of someone's posts by tapping the 'end' or 'page down' keys.

🚩 Red flag #8: Most of their posts are reblogged directly from the original poster

Scammers will usually reblog posts directly from the person who originally posted them, unlike most tumblr users, who tend to see posts reblogged by their friends and reblog them from those friends instead.

🚩 Red flag #9: Most of their posts have very high note counts

This is another indication they were fabricating their blog activity. It's way easier to find super popular posts than smaller ones! This is not a rule, most scam blogs will have posts with ~40 notes mixed in with posts with ~40k notes.

🚩 Red flag #10: The timestamp of the oldest post is only a few days old

Most scam blogs don't last more than a week before tumblr deletes em. Once you've scrolled to the end of the blog, check the timestamp of the oldest post by clicking on the 'meatball' (three dots) icon in the corner of it. If that post is only a few days old, or if it's so new that you don't even see a date (only a time), the blog is probably run by a scammer!

🚩 Red flag #11: The blog is dash-only

Scammers disable their blog's main theme so people can't see their archive and instantly see how new all their posts are. They want you to have to scroll, then get tired of scrolling (or say 'good enough'), so you never reach the end of their very sparse posts and realize it's a fabricated blog.

🚩 Red flag #12: The reblog notes have warnings that say 'this is a scam'

When people reblog a scam post and realize it's a scam, they'll often edit the post to warn people who see it in the future. You can look for these warnings by checking the 'comments and replies' reblogs, and the 'comments only' reblogs! Scammers count on people to reblog instinctively and not check these notes.

🚩 Red flag #13: You check the 'other reblogs' tab and notice that many unrelated users reblogged the post directly from the original url

This indicates the person sent copy-pasted asks to many unrelated people (this ties into red flag #1 and #2!). An unknown blog shouldn't have this many direct reblogs for their post, especially if the post and blog itself is super new.

🚩 Red flag #14: You check out their url tag at tumblr.com/tagged/URLHERE and see posts warning that they're a scammer

Sometimes, upon searching for the person's url (you can do this by going to tumblr.com/tagged/URLHERE), you'll see a bunch of people who have outed the scammer. Keep in mind even if you don't see any warnings, it doesn't necessarily mean the person isn't a scammer! Sometimes a blog is just too new for anyone to have posted about it yet.

🚩 Red flag #15: The post uses strong emotional buzzwords and language

Scammers like to use a post template that involves many colourful emojis, and phrases like 'my poor (pet name)!', 'he deserves to live!', and 'help us save a (cat/dog/etc)!' to appeal to emotion and make people feel empowered to help. This is so someone will share the post as quickly as possible, and not spend as much time carefully vetting the blog. The language is designed to make people feel guilty if they don't share. Not all posts containing this language are scams, but scammers employ it a lot because it's super effective at getting results!

🚩 Red flag #16: They don't have established history with anyone on tumblr

If nobody knows who the person is, chances are it's a scam. There's no shame in asking around to see if people recognize the blog! Make sure if someone comes forward to confirm, that their blog is older and they're well known in the community. Scammers don't really go through the hassle of astroturfing real interactions with real people before making their scam posts.

🚩 Red flag #17: The currency on the vet bill doesn't match the currency of the country that appears when you hover over the paypal link

This is a big one! For example, imagine there's a post with a photo of a vet bill. You notice the costs are all in US dollars ($). Next you check out the paypal link at the bottom of the post by hovering over it with your cursor (or pressing and holding with your finger, if you're on mobile).

When you do this, in the bottom corner of your screen (or in a popup if you're on mobile), you see the url attached to that paypal link. This url reveals the paypal user's country using a short abbreviation! In the example below, you can see 'PH', which stands for 'Philippines':

Therefore, the post in this example is almost certainly a scam, because the currency in the Philippines is pesos (₱), not USD ($).

You can also look carefully at the vet bill to find the location of that vet. In this example, the vet is located in Richmond Virginia, US. That is a red flag too because again, the paypal recipient is located in the Philippines!

🚩 Red flag #18: They have both a venmo and a paypal link, but the names aren't the same

Scammers make sock puppet accounts for venmo and paypal, and they'll often reuse those accounts between scams! Because of this, their links won't have identical names. For instance, in the example scam above, their paypal said 'aatuck1', but their venmo said 'evan-naeher'. This is probably because they made a new paypal to match the name on the vet bill they stole, but they still had a working venmo they wanted to reuse.

Other handy things to remember:

Just because someone proves they aren't a bot, it doesn't mean they aren't a scammer!

Many scammers do manually send asks to people, do reply to people who ask questions (without giving any actual verification), and even block people who reveal them to be scammers. Many scammers have been confirmed to have 'waking hours' and 'sleeping hours'.

💡 When in doubt, ask the person to write some words of your choice on a sheet of paper, put it next to the animal, and send a picture of it to you. 💡

If the person actually owns the pet, this will be easy for them. If they can't produce a picture, it's a scammer. Remember: if someone gives an excuse for why they can't send a pic, stay skeptical! Excuses are not a substitute for proof.

When in doubt, answer their ask firmly and skeptically.

This is the 'tough love' version of the above approach!! If someone sends you an ask, say firmly that their blog 'looks suspicious', and that you aren't comfortable sharing or donating. Often, scammers will block you as soon as you say this, because they know they can't provide any verification (unlike people with real fundraisers, who will be happy to give it) and because you've given them the impression you're tough on scammers and not an easy sell, they won't even try to convince you! Now if they don't block you? Awesome- now's the time to ask them for the sheet of paper photo.

Scammers use stolen, but legitimate, photographs of pets and vet bills!

The bills are real, the pictures of pets are real. But they're stolen from real fundraisers that other people made on facebook, gofundme, etc. Because of this, you can't rely on a vet bill picture alone to tell if something is a scam! You need to look at the context of the entire post, and check for red flags in the person's blog, etc. That's where things fall apart!

You won't always find a source for pet pictures if you reverse-image search them!

Scammers often take pictures from facebook and other websites that are behind login walls, and these sources won't show up on google. If you reverse-search a picture and nothing shows up, remember to still check for other red flags!

Lastly: If you want to report a scam, you can select 'report something else' > 'unlawful uses or content' > 'phishing'.

Just remember these red flags, or save em for reference, and you'll be a scam detective in no time!

Reposted with permission from @coulsonlives.

#scam #scam alert #psa #mutual aid #fundraiser #reference

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