#she can tell that their not getting along is actually them getting along

[xeruthana]

Your horns graze the ceiling of the apartment as you stand and stretch your arms. Even to full-grown humans, you're a bit tall. To this toddler, you must appear massive. Your dark purple skin shines faintly in the twilight creeping through the window, and your tusks protrude slightly from your lips.

To your surprise, rather than scream or cry at the sight of you, the toddler breaks out into a big cheesy grin. With a mischievous light in their eyes they run up to you, practically bouncing with excitement as they speak. "Wow! A real live demon! I can't believe I finally get to meet one in person!"

Needless to say you're a bit taken aback. You've been summoned by all types of humans... but you've never had this kind of a reaction before. This raw enthusiasm. You open your mouth to speak, your voice like gravel being ground into fine dust.

"Young one... your mother summoned me here to keep watch on you. I am X'arlathogleg. If that's too much of a mouthful, you may simply call me Gleggory. What is your name, child?"

The kid continues to show his excitement plain on his face as the two of you get to know each other. Their name is Adrian, and they are the child of a powerful witch. Their mother lives a very busy life, and is constantly looking for babysitters that can keep a child of the occult entertained. After many trials and errors, and a last minute cancellation... She decided to summon you. Despite your intimidating appearance, you have a reputation for being on the gentle side (for a demon), and have a few children of your own.

Adrian looks at you curiously before speaking: "Mr. Gleggory, what are we going to do today? Momma won't be back for a long time, not til past my bedtime. My other sitters have been pretty boring... but you're a hellspawn! We can have all kinds of fun!"

Your brow furrows at the term "hellspawn", but you decide to let it go for now. It would be complicated to explain your real heritage to a child. You kneel down to meet Adrian's gaze (although even on your knees you're still quite a bit taller), and begin to explain that despite being a demon, you don't actually have demonic powers. Looking scary is most of it. What you *do* have are many stories. Tales of heroism and villainy, life and death. Bravery and cowardice. Stories about the duality of man, magic, and demons alike.

Adrian seems a little disappointed at your lack of demonic abilities, but is nonetheless excited at the idea of new stories he has never heard. They run and sit on the couch, gesturing for you to do the same. As you sit next to them and clear your throat, you prepare to tell one of your favorite tales. You and Adrian will get along swimmingly.

You’re a demon. One day, you’re summoned into a living room, and an exhausted woman quickly rambles about needing to get to work and being unable to find a sitter before flying out the door. Now, you stand in your summoning circle, a toddler staring wide eyed at you.

[webslingingslasher]

j! its been so long but omg hi

i was super obsessed with ur frat!peter hows he doing?

i just saw a tiktok that was about a frat boy yelling at a party “if youre not a brother or fucking a brother, then get the fuck out!” has this been brought up in the frat!peter circle?

i have so many scenarios in my mind like at the different stages! when they first started and trouble isnt super stable in the relationship and she goes to head out but peter (or ethan omg) grabs her arm and hes like ur part of that demographic trouble. im melting 🫠

or when theyre like broken up/taking a break and she goes to leave and peter goes all sad puppy dog eyes :((

omg yes queen::

*a little something ya'll can wake up to. <3

---

'if you're not a brother or fucking a brother, then get the fuck out!'

you hold in a sigh, the party's over. ally won't make it home with you tonight, she ditched you thirty minutes ago to 'go with matty,' aka, you won't see her again until tomorrow.

you glance down at your drink and debate chugging it, if you do you know you'll leave with a woozy stomach. you take two sips and dump the cup in the kitchen trash, it sends two empty beer cans falling, you shrug at the mess and keep walking.

a girl stumbles into your shoulder and profusely apologizes with tears in her eyes, you keep telling her it's okay but she doesn't let it go until her boyfriend nudges her out of the house.

the house music cuts, any stragglers were just seriously kicked out. you follow the crowd and prepare for the cold walk home, a hand loops around your upper arm before you can get through the threshold.

'where do you think you're going?' you turn around and grin at your friend. 'home? where are you going?'

'also home. i'm just waiting for everyone to clear out first.' ethan pulls you away from the dwindling party. 'you know, brother duties.' he sends a wink your way, you nod along like you understand.

'yeah, but i'm not a brother so i don't think i should help with that.'

ethan stops you again. 'parker is a brother, yes?' he is. he's also not there tonight. something about going to queens being more important than the typical friday night party. 'he is.'

'and you're fucking him, right?' you love when ethan has a little liquor in him. 'i am.'

'okay, so then you fit the requirements. hang back with me and we can go to my place together.' it's not a hard sell but you'll act like it is. 'are you sure? peter's not even here, do those rules still apply?'

'i'm a god damn chapter officer, i get to make the rules and it's everyone else's job to follow them. how about that?' you pat ethan's shoulder, you're not arguing one bit.

'can't fight you on that, can i? you twisted my arm good enough, lorax. i'm yours until peter gets home.' ethan holds out his hand, you shake it like it's a business deal.

'good. he told me to make sure you stayed.' he says it with a wink, a gentle suggestion he wasn't supposed to tell you that but you're glad he did. it makes you warm thinking peter didn't want you to feel excluded, especially because he was missing in action tonight.

'well... i am fucking a brother, right?'

'you are. and you know what that means? you have to stay here after every party.' he says it like it's a bad thing but you can get used to being on an exclusive guest list.

it feels nice. so, ‘hell yeah.’

-- vs. after the breakup--

'if you're not a brother or fucking a brother, then get the fuck out!'

hearing it makes you sad. no one's going to make you stay or tell you that those exceptions still apply to you. ally gets to stay here and you have to tuck your tail between your legs and scoot out the door.

'i can leave with you.' your best friend is kind for offering, you're an even better friend for saying no. 'that's okay, stay with matt.'

'are you sure? you shouldn't have to walk out of here alone, that kinda blows.' it does and you don't like the reminder. you'd prefer if ally stays, actually. you don't want her pity.

'it's fine. beats the alternative, right?' she looks at you to say what the alternative is, you do it with a sigh. 'fucking peter. that's my other option.'

'who said it had to be peter? there's like forty guys in the frat and you're buddies with at least five, take your pick.' you've thought about it but frat boys, especially the ones from sig nu, make you queasy.

'it's fine, ally-cat. i'll walk back with one of the other girls in our dorm.' the same faces you see in the hallway at your dorm are gathering their stuff to leave, they'll have no issue with you tagging along. 'boo. i miss when we would have frat house sleepovers.'

'good. blame peter.'

'and i do. he hates to see me coming his way, he really does.'

another brother screams out the same line, you frown and decide to leave while you still have friends in eye-distance. when you reach the door you look behind one last time to send a wave to your best friend. ally sends one back and blows a kiss with it. you catch it and slam it to your cheek, she giggles, you grin. your eyes flit up to the stairs, someone's already watching you.

peter sends you a sorry smile, he hates that you don't get to stick around anymore either. you match his melancholy and give him a shrug, more like a 'whatcha gonna do?' vibe. rules are rules and you're no longer a fitting member for the requirements they need.

'you can stay.' peter mouths it, you pretend not to know what he just said. 'wait.' you're still pretending, you turn around and walk a little faster down the steps- peter catches you on the bottom step.

'i said you can stay.' you have no reason to stay behind. you're not a brother and you're no longer involved with one. you point to an imaginary watch on your wrist, 'i'm about to turn into a pumpkin.'

'yeah, you almost left a shoe running out of here so fast, cinderella.'

you grin, 'i'm just following the rules.'

peter wavers his stance, he doesn't care who said what- he wants you to hang around a little bit more. he likes seeing you around. 'you're still included. i mean, we're involved, aren't we?'

you look at him like he's crazy, you swear you see him blush before he starts fumbling over his words. 'i just meant that i'm not moving on and you're not moving on and i'm trying to get things back to how they were- no, wait, i'm trying to get things better than they were before. not that they were bad! well, i mean they were bad but not... trouble, help me out here, you know what i mean.'

you do. you just like ignoring it. 'you're cute when you grovel for me.'

'i'll get on my knees right fucking now.' he's not even drunk and he's willing to beg for you in front of his party goers. you have to hold in a smirk of pride. 'to ask me to stay or to convince me with your mouth?'

peter's eyebrows raise, 'if you're asking me to go down on you the answer is yes. it's very much a yes, my place or yours? fuck it, let's go to the bathroom.' you're halfway back inside before you realize what you started.

you rip your hand away from peter, you refuse to go back to what it was. you need more than a few apologies to make you crawl back into his bed, you need a real confession. 'nuh uh, not happening. not in a damn bathroom.'

'okay, that's fine, my place is closer.'

you have to stop yourself from following him a second time. 'no, wait! i meant no, it's not happening. period.'

'i don't care if you're on your period, i'll still do it. that's how committed i am to you.' you manage to keep from gagging at the visual, instead you shove peter's shoulder. 'ew! you're so gross! i'm not on my period, you dolt. i'm just not having sex with you.'

'cool, don't have sex with me, let me just show you i can still make you come in under five minutes.' he has no idea how tempting it is. you're being braver saying no than he is for asking, post-breakup included.

'go find another girl, i'm sure there's a whole line-up waiting to get picked on.' peter's nose wrinkles, he doesn't even think of it as a cheap shot. 'gross, other girls are icky.'

you shut it down. 'peter, i'm not a brother and i haven't touched you in two months. there's no reason for me to still be here, goodnight.' you try to leave, a whine follows behind you.

'but you're still-'

but you're not, no matter how much he says it.

'if you changed the rule to 'if you're not a brother, fucking a brother, or used to fuck a brother, then get the fuck out!' how many girls would stand around and wait on you?' peter looks at you, he doesn't say anything and silence always screams that you're right.

'mhm. rules are rules, goodnight.'

there's a sense of succeeding when all you get is a wistful goodbye behind you. it lasts until the next week when the routine friday night party comes to an end with the normal call.

'if you're not a brother, fucking a brother, or go by trouble, then get the fuck out!'

ally squeals and tells you 'that's you!' but you're too busy glaring at peter's smug face to celebrate. it's his turn to shrug, his mouth forms four words that fuck you over.

'rules are rules, trouble.' 

[tonysbed]

Secrets I keep | Part 2

Max Fewtrell x Norris!reader

Lando Norris x Sister!reader

Daniel Riccardo x Norris!reader

summary: You and max have been dancing around your feelings for years but jealousy gets the best of us all..

not proofread

series masterlist | masterlist | previous | next

-

“I hate people” You say as you sit down at the small table in Daniel’s kitchen. He sets breakfast on the table and raises an eyebrow “I know, but why now?”

You turn your phone to him and show him the post that kika had send you earlier in the morning “Is it that unbelievable that two super attractive people are friends?” You chuckle at his words which makes him smile.

It slowly fades “Has lando said anything to you about it?” You shake your head but lean a bit back “Actually.. He did ask me yesterday what we are” Daniel raised an eyebrow “Really? And how did that go down?”

“Told him we’re friends. Then I asked why. He said he was just wondering and then told me to forget he asked” You shrug and take a bite of your breakfast.

“Hm. A tad weird no?” He says, sipping his coffee. You shrug “He can believe whatever he wants. And he’ll know where to find me if he has questions” Daniel nods and focuses back on his food.

“So, what is the plan for today?” You ask curious “Well, I’d say finally going to let you hold a koala and I got an invite to a party. You know these people too” He says with a smile. You smile wide “Koalas? Finally!” He chuckled “That’s the only thing you heard, hmm?”

“Absolutely. But yeah we can go. What kind of party?” He shrugged “just a party. nothing fancy” “no fancy clothes?” He shakes his head “Thank god. I didn’t pack fancy”

“As if we couldn’t just go and buy something” You roll your eyes at him “Finish up. I wanna see koalas” “Relax, they won’t run away” “You never know”

-

danielriccardo

liked by yn, landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 1m others

danielriccardo she finally got to hold a koala! and meet someone who looks happier than her 🐨👀

*tagged yn*

yn happier than me? more than you. You’ll get wrinkles from smiling this much

danielriccardo Im only smiling because you’re here

yn charmer much?

danielriccardo always for my favourite girl

yn dont make me blush, riccardo

danielriccardo 😁

user @/landonorris ???

user tagging lando as if he’s stupid

user he can read yk

landonorris are you ever coming home, or what? 😂

yn never. this place is to beautiful

landonorris daniel, i’d like my sister back

danielriccardo can’t do anything, sorry mate

user now why is he so close to her.. 👀

user sure, friends

user woman and men can be friends yall

*liked by yn*

-

yn added to their story

[caption 1: night out 💙 caption 2: I expected more patience from him.. he stood there for 20 minutes..]

franciscagomez girl, you’re telling me you two aren’t a thing??

yn yeah?

sure…

yn why is everyone so weird all of sudden. I’ve visited daniel alone before

that was different..

yn sure.

landonorris be safe please!!

yn will be. i’m with daniel, remember?

yeah that doesn’t calm me down..

yn ttyl 🫶🏻

yeah yeah 🤍

-

Drinks had been flowing for a good amount of time. It was safe to say that neither you nor Daniel were on the sober side. You stood next to him, while he was sitting on a chair, explaining something to the guy next to him.

One of your friends, who was rather clumsy, pushed you over and right into Daniel’s lap. You let out an surprised squeal and hold onto his shoulders for support. In an instinctive way, his arms wrap around you and leans against you in his drunken state.

You smile at the filming person who is laughing along you, while the friend who fell tried to get back up, which was even harder while laughing.

You helped her and watched them go to the bathroom. You now finally look at daniel, who’s lap you were still seated on. He raised an eyebrow and smirked.

“If you wanted to sit, you could’ve just said something.” You laugh and turn to face the rest of the group “You’re an idiot”

“I’ve been told before” He laughed and you felt his thumb caressing your side. You sigh and let your head fall on his shoulder “Should we go home?” You hum “My feet hurt” “Told you to go in sneaker” “Shut up” He chuckled “I’ll call a cab”

-

You stumbled into the door and steadied yourself on daniel’s arm. You kicked off your shoes “I’m so dead” “Me too. Sleep?” “100%. I’m eating tomorrow.”

He nods and kicks off his shoes as well. You flop down on the couch “that’s not your bed” “I’m to lazy to walk there” He laughed and stumbled over to you. Before he could say anything, you moved and held up the blanket, inviting him.

“Not the plan but sure” He laid down next to you, looking at you. You make him turn and lay on his chest “Definitely comfortable” You mumble before your knocked out cold.

He laughs softly before closing his eyes as well.

-

Lando had been kind of worried about you. He knew how daniel could get when he was drunk. He had stopped the aussie from doing stupid things before while partying. He let his head fall backwards with a groan.

Max looked up from his phone and sighed “Just text her” “So I’ll get the same answer as before? No thanks”

Max rolls his eyes “I’ll be on stream if you’ll need me.” He got up and walked into his streaming room. Lando stayed on the couch. It was already late in australia, he knew that. You should’ve been back already.

His phone lights up and he sees his mothers name.

‘Did you know about this?’ Attached was a picture of you, sitting on daniel’s lap.

He opened the message

Lando sets his phone down. The picture engraved in his mind. This was out of character for you. Or was it? Did he even know who you were? Were you as close as he thought?

His thoughts were interrupted by Max poking his head in the door “Should we order some food? I’m starving” Lando nods “Sure”

“What’s up with you?” Lando shakes his head “Still about Yn and daniel?” “There is a picture from tonight..” Max raised an eyebrow as lando picks up his phone and shows it to max.

Max’s fists clench at his sides and he has to restrain himself from a sarcastic comment “Oh”

“Why would she lie? I mean, she could’ve told me! I’d rather know from her than the internet” “I’m sure she’ll explain.” “I hope.” “Let’s order food and get your mind off a bit.”

-

You had woken up with a raging headache. You tried to sit up, which didn’t work. You look up and see Daniel’s sleeping face. You feel his arms still wrapped around you and pause. Why in gods name are you in this position?

You gently lift his arms and slip out of his arms. You get into the guest bedroom and put your phone down to charge. While your phone was charging, you got some ibuprofen, water and set some down on the couch table in front of sleeping Daniel.

Your phone finally turns on. You’re horrified when you see missed calls from your mom, and texts from various people. You check your moms messages first and freeze again. When did that happen? You on Daniel’s- The fall.

Oh great.

You pinch the bridge of your nose and try calling your brother. It was around midnight in the uk so you weren’t sure he was going to pick up.

“Yn?” “Lando! Oh thank god. Thought you might be sleeping” “no, i’m not. I can’t sleep actually” You hesitate “The picture-“ “I don’t wanna hear it. Why would you lie to me?” “Lando-“

“no. you go and say you’re friends and that’s what I see? Who are you trying to fool here?” “We are just friends!” “sure as hell doesn’t look like it”

“Lando. We were drunk. I was pushed and landed there” “Sure. Well, good to know you’re okay. I’m going to bed.” “Lando please” The line goes dead and you sigh. Great.

You go and call your mother, who was a bit more understanding but still didn’t quite believe the story you told her.

A knock on the door startled you “yeah?” Daniel slowly opened the door “You okay?” You nod “Headache is getting better. Did you take your ibuprofen?” He nods “So..there’s-“ “A picture yeah. Mom and lando already ripped me one.” He sighed and sat down next to you on the bed.

“It is so out of context! This is really annoying.” He nods again and looks at his hands. You stand up “I’m gonna go and eat something. You coming?” “Yeah”

This time, the kitchen was silent. Neither of you knew what to say after last night.

-

“So when is he supposed to be here?” You ask Daniel as you put on your hiking shoes “Any minute. Oscars quite on point when he’s supposed to be there.” In that moment the doorbell rang.

Oscar stood there, smiling softly “Good morning you two! How have you slept?” You roll your eyes “Fine. We really shouldn’t have had that many drinks tho” Oscar chuckled “Yeah I saw. What did Lando say?”

You three make your way downstairs “He wasn’t mad about the sitting in his lap thing at all. He thought I was lying tho when I told him we’re just friends, which isn’t a lie. We’re really not together. Nothing.” You say defeated.

“I’m sure he’ll calm down and you’ll get to talk to him.” You nod “I hope. I really didn’t lie to him” Oscar pats you on the back “It’ll be alright. He’s bark no bite”

Daniel laughs “That’s what i said too! He couldn’t be mad at you forever even if he tried. He loves you way to much” Oscar nods in agreement “He’s always talking about you. Sometimes I feel like I know you better than Lando” You chuckle at that.

“Ill text him once we get back”

-

yn

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, danielriccardo and 926.467 others

yn when in australia ☀️

*tagged oscarpiastri / danielriccardo*

oscarpiastri my hair oh god

yn I loved it 😂

danielriccardo yeah, i’m sure lily loved it too 😂

oscarpiastri I hate you both

yn 🧡

danielriccardo never going on a hike with you ever again

yn why? I made it to the end

oscarpiastri after laying on the floor and refusing to get up because you know who is ignoring your messages

yn now that is mean

danielriccardo no, just the truth

user Is lando ignoring yn??

user I would too if my sister would have something going on with my friend

user we don’t even know if they do

user have you not seen the pictures??

user and? you need to chill out. not every woman who has a guy as friend wants to date him

*liked by yn*

user see? she even liked the comment.

user the difference between daniel and oscar 😭

user daniel is so boyfriend coded

-

Daniel closed the trunk and made his way to the driver seat. You stare out of the window. Neither of you have actively acknowledged what had happened the night before. The hike with oscar took your mind off it all a bit but you were sure. You had to get to lando before it all gets to his head.

The ride to the airport was quiet. Only as you finally made it and Daniel got your stuff out of the trunk, he finally looked at you.

“Here” “Thank you” “I’ll bring you to your gate” You nod and you both walk in silence. It wasn’t as comfortable as it had been a few days ago.

As you arrived at your gate, you hug him. You stay like that for a few moments before you pulled away.

“yn?” “Daniel” He looks at you a bit nervous “We’re good, right?” You smile softly “Yeah, we’re good. I’ll text you when I land.” He nods “Have a good flight” You wave at him as you leave.

caption: Home sweet home 🇲🇨❤️

franciscagomez weren’t you supposed to be back in like 5 days?

yn lando is ignoring me because of the picture. There’s more to that.

oh..hope you guys figure it out. Gossip sesh w alex soon?

yn 100%

-

Max got a bit mean, oops. Let’s see what she’ll do and what Lando does next 👀

I’ll try posting every 1-2 days. I don’t do tag lists btw

[starredblood]

NOWHERE GIRL

PART FIVE

kang sae-byeok x fem!reader

synopsis: your late night talk with the stone face girl unexpectedly turns sour.

wc. 1.5k

warnings: mentions of violence, more angst lol

(nowhere girl masterlist)

The cafe is surprisingly buzzing with late night customers. Sae-byeok assumes most of them are college kids, since most if not all, are glued to a book or laptop screen probably cramming some last minute studying.

“I told you I didn’t want anything.” Sae-byeok frowns when you ordered another croissant after she turned down your offer.

You hand the cashier your credit card then briefly smile up at the taller girl. “I heard your stomach is rumbling. It’s okay—you don’t owe me anything.”

Sae-byeok forgot that she hasn’t eating anything all day. So, instead of giving you another remark she shakes her head at you and examines the cafe for a place to sit.

Luckily she found two seats in the mere corner of the cafe. Sae-byeok goes to sit down while you still wait for the order and pulls out her phone and goes to Ji-yeong’s contact. She texts her that you are safe and you both will be home in an hour.

You push a plate with the croissant to Sae-byeok and she whispers a small thank you. When you go to sit down she can see the more visible scraping around your arms now inside the dimly lit cafe but stealthily adverts her gaze back to the warmed up pastry.

It’s been thirty minutes of nothing but silence and Sae-byeok came up with the conclusion that you’re annoying. She noticed the way you lift your foot up and place it on your chair, the scratching of your pencil as you sketch and how you take short loud sips of your caffeinated drink—it all irritates her.

When she finishes eating her pastry she grabs a napkin and wipes the corners of her mouth. Then in her field a view appears a torn piece of paper, passed to her across her end of the table.

“I drew you. I hope you don’t mind.”

Sae-byeok peers up at your sleepy grin then back down at your drawing. It was a pencil sketch of her, perfectly shaded with all of Sae-byeok’s features captured right. Her sharp eyes, freckled cheeks, and frowny plump yet chapped lips. You did it all in just thirty minutes.

You were hoping to get some reaction of out her or maybe another dry thank you would suffice. Instead, Sae-byeok sighs and folds your drawing to a small square and stuffs it in her pocket.

Sae-byeok thought you would scowl for her lack of reaction, however your gentle smile remained on your lips. What are you playing at?

“Does it still hurt?” she asks coolly, the huskiness in her voice is deeper from fatigue.

“A little.” you admit and go back to sketching something else.

Just then, you get a call from your mom and Sae-byeok noticed the contact name before you flipped your phone on its back. Her eyes narrow as she thought for a second. You can tell she’s plotting something so you clear your throat.

“I didn’t run away.” you say in a whim, scratching the nape of your neck. “From home.”

Sae-byeok leans back in her chair and rolls her eyes, impatient as ever. “Could you just finish your drink so we can leave.”

“You’re the one who wanted to tag along.”

She throws you a look. You hide your face with your hair and go back to sketching.

“Did you start it?” Sae-byeok blurts out. You hum in confusion. “The fight.”

You have a deadpan expression for a second before bursting into laughter. Sae-byeok confused, raises an eyebrow.

“Why would I purposefully start a fight with a group of guys?” you laugh.

Sae-byeok forgot that that is normal only in her worldview.

“If you saw how he looks you wouldn’t even dare look at him. Actually…I could probably find him on social media to show you.” you pull out your phone and start tapping away. It only took a minute to find him after stalking through Park Yoon’s page. You show her the most recent picture of him, and expect her to simply agree. But her reaction was off. “What? Do you know him?”

Sae-byeok’s face started to get pale. You put your phone back down and survey her strange reaction.

“You fought him?” she says like the wind has gotten knocked out of her system.

“Not fight. I had to get him off of me before…I don’t know something really bad would’ve happened.” you explain in a ramble. Sae-byeok leans on the table, studying your face closer making you go red. “What you want the details? Fine, I kind of burned his hand with a cigarette and spit on him so I could escape. I know it’s bad.”

“That’s, Jang Yen-ho.” she whispers like someone is listening in. “He’ll come after you again.”

“I had a feeling but I can’t skip anymore of my classes.”

“You have to.”

“You don’t understand if I skip one more time I’m going to get dropped from all my classes and lose my scholarship!”

Sae-byeok pinches her nose bridge and mutters curses at herself.

“How do you even know this guy?” you ask.

“You’re fucked.”

“Excuse me?”

Sae-byeok drops the hand on her face and shoots daggers at you for what feels like the fiftieth time today. “You’re. Fucked.” she grits through her teeth. “Why did you even rile him up in the first place?”

“I didn’t they did it because they found out I’m a lesbian.” you blurt out without meaning to. Sae-byeok is crestfallen and you hold your breath.

The silence in the air couldn’t have been more still. The two of you shared the silence filling the space to register your words. And you didn’t dare to look at the expression on Sae-byeok’s face any longer as you are certain she is probably repulsed.

“Let’s just go.” Sae-byeok says quieter than ever.

You blink back the tears that were blurring your vision and clumsily pack your things while Sae-byeok already made her way out of the cafe. The entire walk back to the apartment was filled with once again more silence with the only noises filling the empty streets were the sound of you sniffling. It made you uncomfortable how far Sae-byeok was walking behind you. You wonder if she’s plotting a similar fate like the one you faced earlier. But you’re at a point where you’ve become numb to pain.

However, nothing happened and you two arrived at the apartment. You dropped your things by the couch and went to the kitchen to dispose the pack of cigarettes that you stole from Jang Yen-ho. From the corner of your eyes you see Sae-byeok rush to her room.

Then the next thing you know, you feel a warm embrace cocooning your back.

“I haven’t seen you these past two days you had me worried sick.” you hear Ji-yeong’s weary voice whisper. When she spots the pack of cigarettes on the counter she removes her arms from you. “Woah these are a fancy pack of cigarettes. How much was it?”

“I took them from someone.” you admit. Frowning deeply still replaying the events that happened at the cafe. “I don’t smoke so you can have them.”

“Cool.” Ji-yeong smirks. You turn around to face her completely, forgetting the huge bruise on your cheek causing her eyes grow twice their size and let out a huge gasp. “What the fuck happened to you?!”

You bring your finger to your lip to signal for her to quiet down. Ji-yeong clamps her mouth with her free hand and surveyed the hall hoping that she didn’t disturb her roommate. Then she pulls you to the living room. You silently thank her as she pulled a duvet over your back and waits for you to talk.

You tug on the duvet and let out a forlorn sigh.

“One of my classmates spread the truth about me and a group of guys confronted me about it. They accused me of—awful things I can’t even comprehend them right now. I’m just so tired. Of everything. Lately I’ve been wondering if it would’ve been easier to have kept my identity a secret and marry the guy my mom set me up with.”

“Do you think they’ll come after you again? You shouldn’t go to school if that’s the case.”

“I know his ex so I’ll have to have a word with her tomorrow. I can’t miss anymore days.”

Ji-yeong rubs your back reassuringly while you glance over at Sae-byeok’s room. You sigh in relief that she didn’t come out to shout at the pair of you.

“Also, I told, Sae-byeok. I don’t think she took it well.”

Ji-yeong’s shoulders and facial expression relaxed. “Shit, I’m sorry. I was the one that assured you she wouldn’t do that. Do you want me to talk to her?”

“No, there’s no point I’ll be gone by tomorrow.”

“I could try to negotiate with her for you to stay longer.”

You send her a weak smile. “No, you’ve done enough.”

Ji-yeong purses her lips.

“Sorry for making you stay up.”

“Don’t apologize I was genuinely worried for you.” she says and pokes the tip of your nose playfully. “Go to sleep though seriously. And if you need ointment for that bruise I have it stored in the bathroom cabinet.”

“Thanks. Good night.” you say and watch her disappear in the narrow hallway to her room.

Just then your phone buzzes again. You scowl at the text your mom sent. ‘When you’re ready to admit to yourself that you were just in a state of confusion call me. I’ll be waiting.’ You delete the message but your fingers hover over the block button. You can only bring yourself to shut off your phone and sink down on the couch.

You lay down face up because your cheek is still sore from the punch you took from Jang Yen-ho.

🏷️: @monroesturnns @knfthxv @jumpedthenfell-13 @peelover25 @karli6 @kissedberries

[sflow-er]

All of this is also consistent with the part of Scarlett Pavlovich's story where she rationalised the first assault, partly because Neil Gaiman and Amanda Palmer were both supposed to be "good guys" on that front:

[Pavlovich] began to search the internet for clues that might explain what had happened to her. She Googled “Me Too” and “Neil Gaiman.” Nothing. The only negative stories she found were about how he’d broken COVID lockdown rules in 2020 and had been forced to apologize to the people of the Isle of Skye for endangering their lives. At the end of the weekend, Palmer texted Pavlovich to say how pleased she was to see Pavlovich and her child get along. [...] Would Pavlovich consider staying with them for the foreseeable future? [Description of how Pavlovich was about to become homeless and was no-contact with her abusive family.] In the years since, she had been looking for a new family, but many of the people she’d encountered in that search turned out to be abusive as well. “After all of this, Amanda Palmer was an actual creature sent from a celestial realm. It was like, Hallelujah,” Pavlovich tells me. Palmer was famous for speaking out about sexual abuse and encouraging others to do the same. In songs and essays, she had written of having been sexually assaulted and raped on multiple occasions as a teenager and young woman. Pavlovich didn’t think someone like that could be married to someone who would assault women. Sexual abuse is one of the most confusing forms of violence that a person can experience. The majority of people who have endured it do not immediately recognize it as such; some never do. “You’re not thinking in a linear or logical fashion,” Pavlovich says, “but the mind is trying to process it in the ways that it can.”

Tw for Neil Gaiman talk, celebrity worship is a really bad idea, but one we (including me) fall into.

[beatrixst0nehill]

"Well.... this is me at 18, the summer before college, vs me three years into my Master's program. College has been a lot of fun but it's taken its toll on my body so fast! Not that it stops lots of guys from fucking me. Sure they used to call me sexy and hot, and now they call me a hucow slut or a dumb pig, but they still fuck my brains out just as much, if not more since I've, um...... bulked up.

This is my fourth pregnancy, I'm about six months along and my belly is gigantic. Granted it's kinda always huge because of all the beer we drink at my sorority. Every single girl has a big round beer belly and it's like we're all competing to see who can grow the biggest gut before we graduate. I actually kind of like being so fat, feeling my ass and my thighs jiggle as I walk, my boobs slosh around, getting sweaty constantly. They used to be so small but after a couple pregnancies my body knew I was always meant to be a cow and ballooned my boobs from, like a DD, to these massive udders. 90% sure I couldn't even breastfeed a baby with these things without suffocating them, which means my body grew these things for guys to enjoy. Nothing more. I started out as barely a B-cup, thankfully all this overeating, chugging beer, and fucking bareback has reminded my body what a girl is really supposed to look like!

I never thought I'd be 21, weighing over 400lbs, having already pushed out fourteen kids (triplets, quintuplets, sextuplets, if you were curious!), and now I've got at least six in my belly again. I don't know if I have another three years of this in me, I feel like my heart is gonna pop any day now from getting so unhealthy and fat so fast. I'm putting so much strain on my body but I can't stop now, I'm having way too much fun. If I have a heart attack at 700lbs in a couple years, having pushed out over thirty kids, then I'd say I've served my purpose as a woman perfectly fine. Loads of guys got to enjoy my body, breed me, cum all over my tits, use my holes, and call me all kinds of demeaning names as I drank a twelve pack of beer every night and stuffed my face all day with my sorority sisters. Since we were all competing to see who can have the biggest, fattest, grossest body! Oops, already referring to myself in the past tense.

But it would be super hot if half of us croaked from being such big fat breeder slobs, wouldn't it? We sit around in the lounge, drinking, eating a stack of pizza, rubbing our pussies as we talk about this stuff, how hot it'd be if we got heart attacks before graduation or kicked the bucket pushing out octuplets. It happened last semester to our friend Reilly! She was pushing out ten kids and bam! She moaned and came as she pushed out baby seven, drooling and smiling, sweating like crazy, looking perfectly eager to push out the last three. But then she passed out! Gone, just like that. The school had to cart her sexy, preggo body off and open her up to get the last few kids out. I was soooo jealous it was the hottest thing we've ever seen! Hopefully most of us follow her example, guys even tease us on campus when our bellies get really big like mine is now and tell us they can't wait for us to wind up like Reilly...... fuck, I'm cumming so hard just thinking about it. I need to go to the Chinese buffet and drink so much beer I piss myself at the booth! Gotta not disappoint my sorority sisters and all the frat boys..... A girl's got to put on a show. ❤️"

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

You’re like the best writer of smut here ☺️☺️☺️

Please I’m begging 90s James (can be any era) taking reader’s virginity? But he didn’t know she’s innocent and she thinks after all the groupies he fucked he’d be disappointed in her? But he’s actually super turned on, cause no one touched her and now he gets to ruin her??? So I guess corruption kink, purity kink, dirty talk, size kink (he’s big, we all know that)???

A/n: I've had this conversation with a friend a few times, my idea is that -going off of the picture of James on the record, we all know the one- he's roughly 5-7 inches (8 being a generous amount) because he's holding himself in his hand and there's still some poking out, plus he looks flaccid SO by my calculations I've come up with said lengths, let me know if you want to hear more of my thoughts on sixty year old mens dicks🫠

Warnings: Smut, size kink, dirty talk, fingering (f receiving), idk about corruption and purity kinks but I tried lol, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

You straddled his lap, arms around his neck with your fingers laced in his hair. James's arms were around you, holding you close while he attacked your lips with your own, his tongue exploring your mouth.

You'd been dating for two months, getting closer to three, and you still hadn't told him he would be your first. You'd gone on a few dates, some highschool romances but those didn't mean anything really.

You were quiet and kept to yourself, you didn't go out, you didn't get dates, how you managed to get him was beyond you but here you were, in his bed, in his lap, in his arms with his hard on pressed firmly against your ass.

Honestly, you didn't think you'd make it this far with him. James was a rocker, the lead singer of a big band, he'd been with so many women it was hard to believe that he went cold turkey just because he met you.

"Sweetheart," he spoke, getting your attention, "what's wrong?" He asked, bringing a hand up to your face and thumbing your cheek in a soothing motion.

"What's wrong..?" You repeated softly, letting him move your face further away so he could look at you. "Nothing's wrong, why?"

"You were thinking about something." He said with a warm smile. "You stopped kissing me."

You gave a small nod, understanding why he was stopping now. "Right, sorry." You leaned closer to kiss him again but you only got a quick peck before he pushed you away again.

"What were you thinking about, sweetheart?" He asked, eyes flicking down to your red lips.

"Nothing." You assured.

James rolled his eyes. "It's not nothing, tell me." He said sternly, looking you in the eye. You chewed your cheek, he knew just what eyes to give to make your knees weak.

"I'm sorry." You finally said. "I know you're used to a lot of women, you're used to groupies, and I'm not them and I don't think it'll be good enough but I want to try, I just literally don't know how..?" You explained.

James blinked at you, expression blank. "Sweetheart, I mean this politely, what the fuck do you mean?" He couldn't hold back a small chuckle. "Are-are you saying you're scared you're not good enough at sex for me?"

Your mouth opened before the words came out. "Well, yeah but that's not exactly what I meant." You mumbled. "I mean... I-I might be lacking in the, um, sex...ual... intimacy? With, you know... others?"

James inhaled deeply, he gave a nod and rested his forehead on your shoulder. "Sweetheart, are you trying -and failing miserably, might I add- that you're a virgin?" You huffed at his comment but you had to nod.

"Yes." You mumbled, fingers curling in his hair to scratch his scalp. He gave a small hum and pulled away from you again, planting a soft kiss on your cheek as he did.

"Right, and I'd be upset because?" You thought for a while but whatever train of thought you were on was cutoff when you felt him twitching against your ass. "Sweetheart, we can take it slow, you just gotta talk to me."

You inhaled deeply, nodding along as he spoke. "Jamie," you started, "I-I want you to take me... my virginity..." Your voice fell to a mumble, embarrassed at actually saying it out loud, so bluntly as well. Straight to his face.

James smiled up at you. "Alright then." He said, hand going to undo your shorts.

Your face flushed as he did so. "What-what are you doing?" You asked, slight panic slipping into your voice.

"Don't worry, I told you we can take it slow." He assured, closing the gap between you for a moment as he helped you out of your shorts. "But that means I have to get you ready for me, sweetheart, it's not gonna be easy fitting me into you if you're not ready." While it made sense you didn't want to think too much about it.

James continued to pepper your face with kisses as he pushed your panties to the side. He ran a finger through your folds, giving a small hum of approval at how wet you were already. He pushed a finger into you, enjoying the soft gasp that left you when he did.

"Tell me, sweetheart, and be honest." He spoke. "You have touched yourself before, haven't you?" He asked, combing his free hand through your hair.

You hesitated before answering, cheeks already dusted a candy red colour. "Um, I-I have toys..." You mumbled, unable to look him in the eyes as you said it.

James's smile widened. "You do, do you?" He asked. "And when you use them, you think of me don't you?" He questioned further, started to pump his finger in and out of you.

Your breaths grew heavy, eyelids fluttering as his finger moved. "I think of you, Jamie." You said, but it wasn't enough, you were already going this far, you had more to get off your chest. "I-I think of you on top of me, I think of the faces you make and I think of what you sound like... I think of you naked, I think of-of what you'd look like with my-my hand around you... your cock... I think about what it-it looks like when you cum." Once you started you couldn't stop, all the filthy things you'd been thinking about coming out like dirty commandments.

James listened in slight shock, he hadn't known you to be so needy. "Filthy slut." He said with a smile, adding a second digit. "Keep talking." He urged. "I want to hear what else you think of when you're getting yourself off."

The addition of another finger made you whine but he slowed down to let you get used to the stretch. You swallowed thickly and nodded, mentally preparing yourself to continue.

You closed your eyes, letting his fingers resume the same motion, in and out, slow and curling to find what made you tick. "I think ah-about riding you, my-my hands on your chest while you tell me wh-ah- what to do, how-how good I'm doing."

"What kind of toys do you have, sweetheart?" He asked, pulling you from your thoughts. You bit your lip, he wasn't even supposed to know you touched yourself, now he was supposed to know what you're using to do it with? "C'mon, I won't judge." He said, kissing the tip of your nose as his fingers curled in you, making your eyes roll and he knew to hit that spot again.

"They-they're vibrators."

"They?" He repeated. "As in multiple?" Your eyes widened as the realization of what you'd admitted to. "Naughty girl." He curled his fingers again, bringing you closer to your already nearing release.

James added another finger, moving his hand faster now as he scissored your hole in an attempt to prep you for his cock. "When you're alone in bed with your toys, that's how you do it, isn't it?" He asked for confirmation.

You gave it willingly, nodding your head as more moans started falling from your lips.

"You're thinking about me." He continued. "What kind of vibrators?" He asked again. "You've never had anything inside you, sweetheart, right? I'll be the first?" You nodded, his fingers making it hard to focus on anything else. He chuckled as he saw how close you were. "That's it, that's my good girl, cum on my fingers."

Your gut tightened before bursting, your eyes rolled back. Your hands resting on his shoulder clutched his shirt in your fists as you came, a string of curses leaving you.

James groaned lowly at the sight, his fingers still moving in you and letting you ride out your high on them.

As you came down from it, though, he let you melt into him, slowly and carefully shifting you to lay on your back on the mattress. Your head fell back onto his pillow, his scent filling your nose, completely taking you over.

James hovered over you a moment, propping himself between your legs and holding himself up with his hands firmly planted on either side of your head. "Is this what you fantasize about, sweetheart?" You could only nod and let him undress you before following shortly after.

"I'll go slow, so just relax." He said, brushing some of your hair out of your face. "And if, for any reason, you want to stop, tell me. I want to know- I need to know if you're uncomfortable with anything for whatever reason, am I understood?" He asked firmly, cupping your cheek in the palm of his hand.

You nodded, staring right back at him as he used his other hand to line himself up with your cunt before pushing in. He did just what he said he would, moving slowly.

He stopped to pepper kisses all over your face and tell you how good you were doing. "That feels good, doesn't it? Feels good when I stretch you out like this." You nodded, arms wrapped around him, hands splayed out on his back.

"You-you're so big." You mumbled, looking down at him in hopes of catching a glimpse of where you both connected. Only, what you saw was a few more inches still needing to be pushed in.

James let out hearty laugh when he saw your eyes widen. "Only halfway, sweetheart, you'll know when I'm balls deep, don't worry."

You slowly relaxed back into the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, mind full. "You're gonna tear me in two." You muttered to no one in particular, James was the only one there to hear and it made him laugh.

"Damn right I am." He agreed. "I'm going to ruin you for anyone else, sweetheart, no ones gonna stretch you out like this, no ones gonna make you theirs." His eyes flickered over your face, taking in your expression of wide eyes and the small pout on your lips. "No one else gets to be your first."

In a quick motion he pushed the rest of himself into you, burying his cock deep in your cunt. Your eyes rolled back, hands clawing at his back and making him groan. He looked down, grin only getting bigger as he saw the bulge he made in your stomach.

"No one else gets to do that." He purred, reaching a hand down to press on your stomach. A whine left you as he did, your legs tried to close but he was in the way. "Not so fast, sweetheart, we haven't even gotten started yet."

[acowardinmordor]

Hold up a vision of the angsty admirer au just struck me. It’s a little skip ahead. Sorry.

The party still breaks into the counselors office and sees the records and puts together that it isn’t random. They put together that it’s about guilt and depression and self hatred.

They all, rationally, assume it’s because he’s repeating senior year.

Lucas, though.

Sweet, kind, supportive Lucas, who has a box of letters apologizing blindly to someone that Eddie had intentionally torn apart. Lucas, who has barely held his tongue since that day at Hellfire. Lucas, who admires the hell out of Steve, wants to be him, and who thinks he made it worse. Who thinks he’s at fault for Steve being cursed.

Somewhere in between Steve getting out of Vecnas powers, and this, Chrissy died (sorry babe) and it’s not pinned on Eddie, but that’s where suspicion is leaning.Nancy and Robin talked to him, convinced him that Steve is fine, explained a small part of the upside down, and told him to keep his head down, begged him to just stay in the trailer, and above all, not to get involved further.

Steve is shutting down on them, and after they saw the notes about Chrissy and Fred, they’re pushing him. Which is making it worse. Robin is spiraling, Max is furious. Dustin is on the edge of hysterical.

For whatever reason, they need to talk to Eddie again. Information about Victor Creel probably. Since most of them are freaked out by Steve, it’s only Nancy and Lucas that go. Yeah, Lucas should have been listening while Nancy talked through a plan of what they were and were not going to tell Eddie, but he wasn’t. He tells her that after Eddie’s, they need to go by his house, that he has something to help Steve.

Pull up at the trailer, and Lucas cracks down the center. He runs from Nancy’s car, shoves open the door, immediately steps inside, and fucking decks Eddie. Puts him on the ground in one hit and because his entire hand now hurts, Lucas is looking for something to use as a replacement for a bat. It’s easy math for him. He knows why Vecna was able to go after Steve. He knows that if it wasn’t for this asshole with his caste assumptions about high school, Steve would be safe.

Hawkins wouldn’t be, Lucas knows that, but they’d have Steve, and if they have Steve, then they — then Lucas will feel like they’re going to survive.

Nancy stops him before Lucas can actually beat Eddie with an ashtray.

“If you hadn’t said that to him! If you actually looked at people! If you listened to them and trusted us! If you could just understand that not everyone has to choose a side, he would be safe! He’s dying and it’s your fault, Eddie! He’s gonna die, and it’s going to be because you never really see anyone, just the person you think they’re supposed to be!”

Eddie hasn’t been looped in yet. He doesn’t know what Lucas is talking about, but it’s Lucas screaming at him, which is enough for the pieces to come closer. It’s not like Eddie hasn’t been thinking about the way Steve said he wanted to sleep. It’s been half his brain at any second of the day. He’d broken every promise to his secret admirer, thrown insults like blades at every soft spot Steve has, and until that Friday, he thought he was standing on the moral high ground.

Yeah. It’s enough for Eddie to realize that the curse is because of what he did to Steve. On the ground, looking up at a freshman who loves Steve more than Eddie had the chance to, Eddie can’t even find the words to start an apology.

Nancy yanks Lucas back farther. She doesn’t help Eddie up though. She’s also damn smart, and can put clues together.

“Man, you need to—“ Eddie starts, talking to the other person in the room who, Lucas entirely missed in the tunnel vision of his rage. “—you gotta come back later. Pay me later.” He scrambles to the bathroom and slams the door.

“Yeah, i guess I… Lucas, make sure you ice that hand, your form was no good.”

Finally, Lucas turns, along with Nancy, to find Patrick, fidgeting and uncomfortable, with a little baggie in his hand. He pulls some cash from his wallet, drops it on the table.

And look. Lucas would love to stop and talk to his teammate, who is looking very messed up. Who obviously needs someone. But Steve is going to die, and he can’t think beyond that fact. Honestly, Nancy is the same.

That’s why they’ve started a whispered discussion of how fast they can get answers and leave when they notice that Patrick is frozen in place, two steps from the door.

Link post

[almostfoxglove]

ALI FAKHSDJGKH okay it's taken me 100 years to reblog this but I WANTED TO QUOTE SO MANY PARTS IT WAS IMPOSSIBLE TO NARROW THEM DOWN. holy shit. this was??? EVERYTHING. like, this is the canon I needed - redemption for what could have been with Helena and fulfillment of every delusion I've ever had about this man. it felt so true to the world of the show and to javi I'm actually announcing this as Canon. sorry folks!! I don't make the rules!!

gonna pop some favorite bits under the cut :,) AH

“You switched your hair up today,” Javier notes one night, sipping his coffee and flicking off the ash of his cigarette, his eyes following the way your hair is pulled up loosely and framing your face, “looks good—good, I like it.”

lord help me I would not survive this I am NOT god's strongest warrior I am a puddle on the FLOOR this is him holding the secretary's finger and complimenting her nail polish all over again DSDKFHJK

“Are you really DEA?” You ask, his expression urging you to lower your volume as he takes a seat beside you, “Is that a lie?”

this is SO HEARTBREAKING ALI like what the FUCK oh my god. I feel like I can hear her and see her scared face and I'm going to cRY ABOUT IT

“I don’t think you want my opinion,” He answers vaguely, swiping the counter for his keys. “Just admit it,” You tease him with the words tossed over your shoulder as you grab for your jacket, “It’s fuckable.”

sdhkfjhaskjhgfa

“Mierda, your fucking hands—” He doesn’t even mean it in a sexual context, but the pressure you apply is perfect, pinpoint even, knuckles rolling against the base of his neck as his mouth opens, an embarrassing sound slipping beyond his lips as you chuckle softly, watching as he lifted his head in shame, “okay—okay, you’re done.”

OHHHHH, to take javier pena apart with a massage!! HOW I YEAAARRRN

“Yeah, pretty difficult,” You jest at his expense, his smile lines creasing as he grinned slightly, “I have this asshole in my apartment—annoyingly cocky, hates massages. God, the worst—”

I love them so much. she's so charming and brings out the CRINKLY EYES and I would die for them both ok ANY DAY ANY TIME

“Not much longer, chiquita,” Javier reminds, seeming to hear your discomfort immediately.

this is so !!!!! JAVI. saying it without saying it, ya know? that he sees her. I'm gonna cry brb

“Where did he touch you?” Javier asks casually, eyes closed as he pressed gentle kisses to the inside of your thigh, pushing your shirt up higher as you guided his hand over your hip and down toward your ass and squeezing gently. “There,” You admit before guiding his hand further up, alongside your ribs and around your back, another gentle squeeze before guiding his hand around and over your breasts, “and there—here,”

“I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” Javier promises, suddenly closer than you’ve ever known him to allow himself outside of sex, his finger drags along your chin and forces it up, looking at him, “¿Entiendes?”

MY HEART POUNDED SO HARD AT THIS PART I DONT THINK YOU UNDERSTAND

It’s just sex, you can hear the words before they roll off his tongue, ignoring your second question entirely. Tell me where he touched you.

*screams heard in the distance* *more wailing* *barking* *hollering*

“Baby, we have to go,” Javier urges, “I have to get you out.”

THE URGENT IN THE MOMENT NOT THINKING "BABY"??? MY PERSONAL KRYPTONITE?? ALI THIS WAS AN ATTEMPT ON MY LIFE

“It was a tracker,” You mumble eventually, “when he was feeling me up that night—it was because he was trying—well, he—he did, he put a—”

oh my god the pain of this realization fucking SLAPPED ME I just!! was there!! feeling her fear!! my chest is so TIGHT the angst is so GOOD

“I hope you’re okay, please come home.” It wasn’t a cry for help this time, but still a phrase that was special. A code, a message. A lifeline.

this was such a perfect ending. hopeful and soft but also still so javi!! and I'm obsessed with it. I've read this three times, oops. AND WILL DO IT AGAIN <3 all the ways you wove in the moodboard (THEIR LITTLE CODE PHRASE AHHHHH) are so fucking perfect and seamless. ugh. so good. thank you soso much for joining the challenge and sharing this fucking masterpiece with us, WE HAVE BEEN BLESSED. you are a talent and a gem and I adore you <3

𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐀 𝐑𝐄𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐃 | Javier Pena x reader

↝ masterlist | requests? | ao3 | update blog | fic rec | ko-fi

summary | Javier's a creature of habit, a man of opportunity, and you were unlucky enough to find him when he's at his most desperate.

author's note | written for @almostfoxglove angst challenge, i really hope i did this moodboard justice ghjfkd. thank you @amanitacowboy for reassuring me while writing this behemoth + translations are at the end.

content warning | 18+ MDNI, informant!reader, set through beginning of season 3 narcos to end, angst, smut, involvement with the cali cartel, paying for info and sex, javier's a gentleman i swear, gratuitous smut, jealous!javi, protected/unprotected piv, creampies, oral (f receiving), some vague violence toward the end, happy ending

word count — 10k

The new influx of customers has been an adjustment, used to the elder regulars with orders that never changed and people who were grabbing a bite after a late night shift, it left you flustered as you reached for the pen and paper shoved into your apron, smoothing out the cloth as you approach the group of men, carrying on their conversation without a care.

“El envío llega el domingo,” It was Friday, which meant whatever was coming in would be here in a couple days—they never said what, but it was always something.

And their eyes always eat you up, hair pulled back loosely as you greet them with a smile, taking down their order as they keep their sights locked on you and commenting on the swing of your hips and the curve of your ass as you depart. 

Like rabid dogs, feral and hungry.

You’ve learned to catalog their conversation, catching onto a regular pattern of when things were coming in and out, knowing that whatever nefarious business they are involved in couldn’t be good—but they tipped well and that wasn’t lost on you.

It was almost a month of daily interaction when a new customer pops in, nearing midnight as he settles into his booth quietly, thin button-up stretching over his shoulders as he removed his jacket and tossed it into the space beside him, yellow tinted sunglasses tucked into his shirt, catching the ashtray with a single finger and lighting the cigarette already settled between his lips.

You attempt to greet him, lips parting before he interrupts you, barely acknowledging your presence as he spits out the order for a coffee, black. Dickhead, you think. The pen and paper is shoved away in your pocket and you swing your hips around the counter to fulfill his order with a side of spitefulness.

When you approached again, it was with a nauseatingly sweet smile.

“Can I get you anything else?” You ask, catching his eyes briefly as they flicker up before he shakes his head, a roar of laughter and slaps coming from the booth a few feet away, perking your eyes up at the subtle information they were sharing, scooting out of the both as they slapped a bill on the table, passing by with a vicious smirk that had your blood running cold, the graze of fingertips brushing against your ass that had you biting down on the inside of your cheek to steady yourself, nearly falling into the table as they pushed by.

The stranger perks up at that, his eyes trailing over your body with the same robotic motion as them, but with an air of curiosity, like he was examining you and your reaction. 

“No—no, just the coffee,” He assures you, both of you watch as the group of men climb into their shared truck, “those your regulars?”

“Unfortunately,” You let slip without thinking, “I’m sure their boss would hate to hear how loud they talk about all transfers and shipments—can’t imagine it’s anything good.”

His eyes drag to your breasts, more pointedly toward the nametag pinned in your shirt. 

He speaks your name before introducing himself, “Javier,” He addresses, turning to dig into his jacket before he pulls out a leather wallet, opening it to flash off his credentials, “DEA.”

“Oh–I’m…I’m not…involved with them, if that’s what you think…” You don’t know why the revelation has your nerves shot, but the fingers that wrap around your wrist ground you.

Javier has spent weeks—not a single lead or piece of evidence to follow. You were his saving grace, a goddamn miracle. He tugs lightly, pulling your attention to him.

“How often do they come in here?”

“Uh,” You blink rapidly, trying to think, “Um—three or four times a week, usually every other day.”

He speaks your name gently, his demeanor changing as he releases his hold on your wrist before he motions for you to sit, looking around briefly to assess how busy the restaurant was.

At this hour, it was only you and him.

You slide into the booth and place your palms against the table, fiddling nervously with your fingers, watching as he puffed at the cigarette a few times before placing it in the ashtray, followed by a generous sip of his coffee. 

“Everything they’ve told you,” Javier begins, pointing his finger vaguely in your direction before he points down, fingertip pressing against the table, “tell me—not a detail spared.”

You swallow the lump in your throat as your mouth opens, tongue dragging against your bottom lip as you try to access the memory stored in the back of your brain before you remember the small, mostly indecipherable notes you had been taking.

You rip the wrinkled paper from your notepad and pass it over, his brow furrowing as he attempts to decipher the information and to your surprise, he does.

Unknowingly, you had captured a loose schedule they seemed to follow when they shipped things in and out, the day trading off as weeks passed, constantly changing to throw off suspicion, but eventually things overlapped and repeated.

Quietly, Javier pulls his wallet from his pocket and tosses over a wad of bills in your direction.

You stare at it blankly, eyes dragging up to his face as he nods toward the money.

“Should cover the coffee—and a tip.”

You reach for the money, pulling it apart to count, suspicious of the amount.

Prying the bills apart you count, eyes widening as the number rises.

“Sir—uh, Javier. This is…too much.”

“Not for the information,” He clarifies, peering cautiously over his shoulder, “If I come back every week can you promise more?”

You scoff lightly, pocketing the money regardless, “I can’t promise anything—besides, it’s always the same stuff. Just when things are coming and going, nothing more.”

“Can you get more?” Javier asks curiously, an eyebrow raising as he taps the ash off the cigarette and brings it to his lips, “Like, names—anything?”

“I can try, but—”

“I’ll pay.”

Unfortunately, waitressing was a shitty job.

And you were more than willing to allow Javier to turn you into his little informant.

You nod quietly.

-

His order changes depending on his mood.

He never orders food, usually coffee or whiskey.

Nothing less, nothing more.

And you do dig deeper, giving in to the absurd attempts at flirting and playing it up, allowing the occasional touches that make your skin crawl, returning them with fervor. Luckily, you had a strong stomach and handled it with ease, catching the names of the four that frequented the restaurant often, curiously asking about work and life, giving them vague or fake answers for your own when they pried.

“Three are single,” You tell Javier as you slide him a glass of whiskey neat, “desperately.”

Surprisingly, he chuckles at that. You��ve never heard it before.

It’s a nice sound.

“One is married, two kids.” 

You pass him a piece of paper with names and information, trading off for the cash he transfers in return, pocketing it inconspicuously. He’s never there at the same time as them, so the weight on your shoulders is lifted, but the creeping feeling of being watched stays put.

“You switched your hair up today,” Javier notes one night, sipping his coffee and flicking off the ash of his cigarette, his eyes following the way your hair is pulled up loosely and framing your face, “looks good—good, I like it.”

“They like it down,” You retort with a forced smile as a customer passes by with a nod, “so—up it is.”

Conversation was always easy with Javier, his charisma oozes out without even trying. It was natural for him, casually taking your hand into his during a slow shift, examining the lack of jewelry.

“Could get you a fake one, if it would help,” Javier suggests.

Unless you already had one, of course. His eyes flick up in a silent question.

“I don’t think it would matter,” You admit, “If they want something, they’re going to get it.”

The routine continues like this for a while, until eventually, it doesn’t.

A new group of men come in one Friday, the other, and another, throwing you off kilter.

They started rotating them, keeping you on edge as the information is becoming harder to obtain despite your attempts to dig and frustrations arise in Javier, but never with you.

Sometimes they don’t even speak at all, hushed tones at the table unless you’re needed—but, occasionally they get messy. It’s usually the younger guys, inexperienced, fresh-faced, eager to please the big boss but riding on an uncapped power high.

One of the men gets particularly ostentatious, always coming in on a drunken stupor and slurred words, eyeing you like a piece of meat that he was eager to sink his teeth into. He slips you his number more than once, ignores your polite attempts at a subject change when the rest of the men are hyping him up, and rarely takes your refusal into consideration. 

Eventually the fear that has built in you overflows, suspicion arising when you leave work a night after Javier had long departed, a night of very little information exchange outside of casual talk—and even that was forced, understanding how frustrated Javier had become. 

One of the men had stuck around, only a brief crossover as Javier had stepped into the restaurant, his eyes tracking you the entire way out before you’re pulled in by Javier’s voice ordering his drink of the night, squeezing his shoulder gently in response.

You should have known better, you should have spoken up.

Javier would’ve done something then, but instead, you convince yourself to forget about that uncomfortable feeling that crept in. You knew what would help, biding your time until Javier left for the night, ignoring how he seemed to eye you too, but with a glazed over expression of worry.

There was a car you barely noticed, swallowed up by shadows and turning on as you drove down the road when you finally clocked out, the minutes dragging before you pulled into the parking lot of the chapel you had sped towards with a weight on your chest and a sick feeling in the pit of your stomach.

You couldn’t recall that last time you had visited, but you were desperate now more than ever.

You needed solace.

Prayer comes naturally, dedicated to begging for protection over yourself, allowing the silence of the space to consume you as soft footsteps of other patrons walked by, just raising your chin as a hand clasps over your shoulder, nearly falling to your ass as you turn to connect the owner of the hand to a body. 

“Javier?” You ask quizzically, “Did you follow me?”

“No?” He looks confused, answering with full honesty.

That twisting feeling in your gut sinks further, looking around briefly.

“I can provide protection,” Javier tells you, “if you need it.”

You stay quiet, chewing gently at your bottom lip, scanning the room for familiar faces.

“Something is wrong, isn’t it? I could sense it, back at the diner.”

There was only Javier, still mostly a stranger.

“Are you really DEA?” You ask, his expression urging you to lower your volume as he takes a seat beside you, “Is that a lie?”

“I spent a long time trying to take down Escobar, I find that kind of insulting, chiquita.”

He’s met with silence, understanding your need for reassurance. 

“Yes, I am,” He tells you, his gaze unwavering, “I should’ve offered a protection detail to you from the jump, but I figured me being around often enough would work—did someone follow you here?”

“I don’t know, I kinda lost sight of them.”

You fall silent, staring at a crease in the denim of his jeans as you speak. 

“Should I be worried?” You ask quietly, turning your body toward him, “Like—are they going to kill me?”

“They’re getting uneasy,” Javier responds vaguely, before assuring, “Not because of you.”

“I should…I should tell you,” You take a breath, “One of them invited me to a party, I have his number. I told him I would have to work some things out, but I never…”

“Was it this weekend?” Javier asks suddenly, the lines in his forehead creasing at the mention.

“Yeah—yeah, why—”

“Say yes,” Javier urges, “I’ll keep you safe.”

It was a big promise, but Javier’s pleading eyes worked like a spell.

“This is gonna cost, Javier.”

“Name your price, hermosa.”

–

Javier’s touch is white-hot, cigarette tucked between his lips as he brushes your hair behind your ear and presses the in-ear monitor inside, hiding it behind the gaudy jewelry attached to your ear and adjusts your hair back over, stepping back and raking his eyes over your frame casually, pinching the cigarette from his lips with his thumb and pointer finger as he blows the smoke out.

“It’s small enough they won’t notice but try and keep it covered,” He tells you, his free hand shoved into his front pocket as his presence fills your apartment, moving around sheepishly under his gaze, “I’ll be a few minutes away, if anything goes south I’ll get you out.”

You stumble slightly slipping on your heels, caught by his tight grip as he steadies you. 

“Sorry—I’m freaking out,” You admit, looking away nervously as his grip loosens but doesn’t leave, firm around your bicep as you sleep your other foot inside the hell, “Th—thank you.”

“You smoke?” Javier asks causally as you stand.

“Not really,” You respond, “Occasionally, I guess. It’s probably more social, if I’m being honest.”

He plucks the cigarette from his mouth and offers it to you, placing it between your lips as you take a small puff without thinking or being told, an effective way to calm your nerves as you focused on the action as he points toward the cigarette, “Don’t drink or smoke anything they give you tonight,” Javier warns, “communication works both ways, I need you coherent.”

He pulls the cigarette away and places it between his own lips again.

The nicotine stings your throat and chest, giving you a noticeable distraction that calms your mind. “How do I look?” You force a tight smile, twirling on your feet as the dress clung to your curves, a soft, velvet red, “Fuckable, I hope. Otherwise I’m not getting anything out of them.”

Javier snorts at that, brow creasing at your crudeness.

“I don’t think you want my opinion,” He answers vaguely, swiping the counter for his keys.

“Just admit it,” You tease him with the words tossed over your shoulder as you grab for your jacket, “It’s fuckable.”

“Yeah, sure,” He mumbles around the cigarette between his lips, “fuckable.”

The way the word rolls of his tongue is visceral, ignoring the pulse between your legs at the vibrato in his voice and the chuckle that follows—regardless, it helped ease your nerves. 

–

It’s loud, sweaty, and overwhelming.

You thought they would choose something less…obvious.

But, it was becoming more and more clear how much of the town was under the Cali Cartel’s payroll, learning more and more information as Javier shared it with you in bits and pieces, your curiosity getting the better of you.

The idea was to mingle, drifting far enough away from your date that you might happen upon one of Javier’s more meaningful targets, not going as far as to infiltrate the heads, but someone damaging if you sunk your teeth in. 

You quickly come upon the realization that most of the men are confusing you with entertainment, rather than being a guest, quickly side-stepping the hands that reach for you as you squeeze your way toward the bar, sliding into an empty seat with a breath of relief.

“They are animals,” The voice beside you speaks—belonging to a man who was scientifically handsome; oddly perfect, hair perfectly coiffed and mused into place, a perfect set of teeth hidden behind plush lips and piercing green eyes—you had memorized the face in the picture Javier had shown you, “¿Cómo te va? ¿Lo estás pasando bien?”

You almost forget he’s talking to you for a moment, staring up at him distractedly before Javier’s voice speaks softly in your ear, “Answer him, chiquita. He’ll get suspicious.”

“Oh, yes,” You answer quickly, moving in closer to converse over the roar of music and the heavy buzz of strobe lights flashing overhead, “I seem to have lost my date, though.”

“Don’t worry,” He smirks, “I will keep you company.”

It does take a few drinks and you nursing your own, but you play into the act of being a mere accessory on the mysterious man’s arm, allowing him to drag you around the club with no real path to follow, eventually ending up with a smaller group of men huddled away in a corner, standing dutiful and quiet as the men talk amongst themselves in obscure words, almost like a code. 

“I can’t—I can’t hear them,” Javier’s speech is garbled, drown out by the music as you squint at the pain of the feedback in your ear, “can’t—hurry—”

Eventually, you find an opening to excuse yourself.

“Hermosa,” The voice freezes you in place, but the touch is gentle, surprisingly, “I would like to see you again, outside of here—”

You quickly ramble off the name of the diner, attempting to pull away, but not before a kiss is pressed against the front of your hand, feeling the heat burn through your skin like a brand before you’re slipping through the crowd, unable to take a deep breath until you’re outside.

You walk the distance to where Javier had parked originally, finding him buried deep in a conversation with someone who had pulled up in another car, hands curled around the driver’s side window, his head turning as he heard the distinct click of your heels.

“Fuck,” He curses, approaching you with his hands hovering around you—not touch or prodding, almost hesitant to cross that boundary unless it was absolutely needed, “are you alright?”

“Yeah,” You answer confused, nose scrunching up as you peered around him at the unknown agent, his window rolling up before he drove off, “what’s that about?”

“We think someone might have jammed the comms—there’s no way to know, it could have been the club itself, one of the agents is going to look into it—”

“Can you drive me home?” You interrupt suddenly, rubbing at the spot on your hand that the man had kissed, feeling dirty, “I’m full up on being felt up tonight and I want to change.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Javier replies after a moment of hesitation, “let’s go.”

You rip the device from your ear the moment the passenger door closes.

–

Javier places your heels against the floor as you walk barefoot into your apartment, a simple but kind gesture as your belongings scattered against your kitchen counter, fingers dragging through the front of your hair and back as you smeared your makeup in the process.

“Oh, the uh—the code,” You remember suddenly, “something about a bridge, as the sun rises…something with water. The guy, the picture you showed me. He approached the four you told me were important. I don’t think they liked me being there, but I also think they assumed I was too ignorant to remember a few words.”

Javier pauses, hands digging into his hips as he paces near your door.

“Do you want a beer?” You ask curiously, the furrow in his brow sinking deep as he attempts to decipher the code, he nods silently.

You figured with the information bestowed he would leave, but instead he stays, sipping at his beer for over an hour as you watch him move, his brain working things out in real time.

He’s beside you know, hands pressed into the counter as he pushed his body away, staring down at his feet as he repeated the words aloud, but quietly, like a murmur. 

“Are you sure they aren’t distributing right under your nose?”

Javier’s head tilts to the side as he looks at you, confused by your analogy.

You stare out your window for a moment, curtains pushed open, the gray luminescence of the moon illuminating the inky night sky, “I mean, they’re obviously paying people off, always partying at clubs—wait, the bridge and water,” A thought pops into your head, grabbing Javier by the hand before you’re pulling him to your apartment window, “what if they’re meeting on boats? I mean, not to say that’s how it’s getting it in, but—”

���That…makes sense,” Javier says, void of any distinct emotion as he takes a long chug of his beer before placing it on the ledge of the window, rubbing at the shoulder of his opposite arm.

“Annoyed you didn’t think about it first?” You tease, turning to tilt your head at him like he had earlier.

“Hadn’t gotten that far yet, we’re still trying to put the pieces together,” He grimaces at the tightened muscles, rolling his neck as his hands settle back against his hips, “that’ll help, though.”

“Sit down,” You urge him, pointing toward your couch and Javier looks at you with dull amusement before you’re urging him again with your insistent finger, eventually he relents.

Immediately, you round the back of the couch and allow your fingers to dig into his shoulder, working out the soreness with deft fingers, “Shit—you don’t have to,” Javier begins to protest before your hand is curling around the back of his head and pushing it forward, molding him to how you needed him positioned as your fingers dig in deep, “that’s, fuck, that’s…shit, right there.”

His voice is pure erotica, but it makes your lips curl in amusement. It was that pathetic desperation you heard so often from the men you served daily—that slight pitch to their tone as they tried to grab your attention, but with Javier, he’s completely detached.

His hands were tucked between his legs, head resting forward as you dug in with a strong, pointed touch, his groan reverberating down his spine. 

“Mierda, your fucking hands—” He doesn’t even mean it in a sexual context, but the pressure you apply is perfect, pinpoint even, knuckles rolling against the base of his neck as his mouth opens, an embarrassing sound slipping beyond his lips as you chuckle softly, watching as he lifted his head in shame, “okay—okay, you’re done.”

“Oh, come on,” You tease, “I was just getting started.”

Javier shakes his head and stifles the laughter in his chest, resting against your couch as his hands circle the beer in his grasp, looking up at your face, tilted down toward his own as your fingers curl around the back of the couch, straps slipping down your shoulders in your relaxed state.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Javier checks, given you’ve had a proper amount of time to wind down from the adrenaline of being inside the club surrounded by dealers and potential kingpins.

He’s worried. He barely knows you and he’s still worried.

“It’s a rush,” You admit candidly, “But, I’m pretty resilient, Javier. Work is work. I’ve dealt with worse assholes on the job, I’m good at putting on a face when I need to.”

“What about now?” Javier asks curiously, eyes exploring your morphing expression of amusement to bashfulness, the way he’s staring at you outright, words unspoken.

“Yeah, pretty difficult,” You jest at his expense, his smile lines creasing as he grinned slightly, “I have this asshole in my apartment—annoyingly cocky, hates massages. God, the worst—”

He doesn’t like the way this job winds him up, the tension taught in his spine and unrelenting, staring up at you with a tinge of a buzz from the alcohol and the sight of your sloping breasts spilling out of your dress.

He’s used to driving miles and miles for peace of mind and a nice body to sink into, but you’re here, you’re smiling at him and he’d be damned to refuse the opportunity you’re presenting to him, leaning down as his hand comes up without thinking, twisting in your hair as his head turns to meet yours at the same angle, placing his beer down in the same instance.

“The fucking worst,” He echoes, his hands crawling up the edge of your dress as you climb over the couch with his guidance, speaking through rushed exchanges of lips, his hot, beer-tainted breath against your skin as he situates the dress up at your hips, straddling him without a second thought, “you were right about the dress—”

“Fuckable,” You both agree in unison, sighing audibly at the kiss he places to your chin, neck, shoving his face between the valley of your breasts as you work silently at his jeans, the clang of his buckle, metal against metal as you loosen it enough to free his straining cock, his breath catching as you wrap your fingers around the velvety skin of his shaft.

“M-My wallet,” He chokes out, muffled as your tongue dips into his mouth, stop briefly to savor the touch as his hands cups your face, eventually drifting into your hair in a similar manner to earlier but then he’s tugging, “got—got a condom.”

“Of course you do,” You snort in merriment, “is that—is that what we’re doing?”

Javier nods eagerly, never separating more than a millimeter from your lips as you stare at him, his eyes staring right back, searching your expression for any minute twitch of deception.

When Javier fits himself inside of you it is with a broken grunt, a curse under his breath, and a hand squeezing tight at your hip, fingers digging into the bunched up cloth as he wraps his opposite arm around your back, pulling you toward him with a sharp snap of his hips.

You gasp, falling over the back of the couch as your hands grasped at the surface in desperation, the start of a quick but all consuming pace of his hips, his lips mouthing at your skin; arms, fingers, even over your ribs, biting gently through the velvety fabric of your dress, stifling his shaky moans, attempting to avoid the glaringly obvious fact that he hasn’t been able to release his stress like this in weeks.

A willing participant, a body, convenience. 

Deep down, you know. 

But, you found yourself in the same mix of issues.

Regardless, you both ignore it.

–

Javier is gone by morning—or, what is left of it. 

The exhaustion of the night and the sex catching up to you, coming undone on his cock as he gripped your ass, feeling the bruises he’d left in the process and remembering the soft, filthy words of encouragement he had whispered against your skin as you came.

He even locked your apartment and slipped the key under the crack in the door, stumbling toward the glinting gold piece on the ground and the folded up note on the ground, eyebrow creasing at the sight as you kneel to the ground, adjusting your dress hastily. You squint to read the hastily written note.

Got a lead. Money is for last night.

You peel the paper open and spot the money inside, eyes widening as you slowly realize that this was far more than he’s given you before, nearly double the first time, slowly you fold the paper back over and check the back, inspecting the item as a whole before you notice the writing on the back.

We should do it again sometime, chiquita. 

You look up at the door slowly, at the cash, before peering over your shoulder at the couch, still indented with sleep and a blanket strewn carelessly over the cushions.

He paid you for sex. He’d made it transactional. 

There’s a brief moment where you’re stricken with offense, half the mind to track him down and chew him out, but you remember how your exchange started and ultimately how it would end.

Plus, it was half your rent paid for from the result of the type of sex you haven’t allowed yourself to have in far too long, disconnected from feeling and fully freeing. 

Besides, it must be a regular thing for Javier and you couldn’t even blame him.

He was only doing his job.

–

A protection detail does work for a brief time, at least, it eases some of your worry.

It was a younger agent, Javier had told you, little to no responsibility outside of keeping his eyes on you and reporting back when necessary. As some of the leads start to blossom, Javier appears less and less, but still follows through on his payments when you have information to exchange, even if it’s only a name or time of day for something.

You do find the boldness to ask him about the money he’d forked over for sex, flowing lightly into conversation as he gives you a recount of his time with Escobar after a night of curiosity and lacking customers drags you into the booth beside him.

Always taking careful note of any personal tidbits he would offer. You knew he wasn’t married or that, at the very least, he was an expert at hiding it. No kids, no spouse, no baggage.

“Is it hush money?” You ask bravely, counting through your tips for the night as he sips gingerly at the glass half full of whiskey, “Because if so, I wasn’t going to tell anyone anyways.”

His brow creases, confused for a brief second before you mouth the words.

My couch, the sex.

“Didn’t want things getting confusing,” Javier admits, “If it’s any consolation, the sex was good.”

“You’re too complicated for me anyways,” You snort softly, separating the bills accordingly as you glance over at him briefly, a soft hum in his throat as his lips wrap around the edge of his glass as he downs the rest of the liquor, “Was it a one time thing?”

“Doesn’t have to be,” Javier admits, “figured I should draw the line early—you aren’t offended are you? Because if you need me to remind you how good it—”

As you finish, dragging the money into one pile, you shrug, “I’m off in thirty.”

The sway of your hips as you exit the booth and head toward the back of the restaurant is enough to have Javier suffering half-hard in his jeans, legs widening as he inconspicuously rubs his palm over the denim to adjust himself, awaiting the small nod of your head around the corner that comes half an hour later. 

–

Javier is efficient, you learn.

What first starts off as a casual trade turns into pure, unrestrained stress relief. 

It bleeds into work for both of you, finding time to drag him off into the back office when you knew it was available, fucking over the desk with any empty kitchen and diner as the hours waned into the early morning and everyone was either on break or asleep.

You never offer up much about yourself, very little about your life before moving to Colombia or why you’ve stuck around for so long—but he does know you’re disconnected from your family almost entirely, completely alone.

He has a huge family back in Laredo, people that clearly care about him, catching him on the phone with his father one night as they bickered lightheartedly, something about Javier needing to find time to vacation sooner rather than later.

When you have sex at your apartment, he always smokes afterwards, whether in your bed or by the open window in your living room, always careful about the barrier of clothing that remains, never entirely naked in front of one another.

He doesn’t look at you either, won’t kiss you further than something quick—a wet, sloppy exchange of tongues as he fucks into you from behind, pulled back tight to his chest as his hand strains and squeezes around your neck to turn your head toward him.

And he never stays, doesn’t stay hung up on goodbyes. 

He waits until you’re asleep, places the money at your bedside, and leaves.

But, there is a moment when you hear the tone in his voice switch, almost offended.

You’re both naked from the waist down and he’s thrusting into you lazily as his lips latch onto the section where your neck meets your shoulder, recounting the details that you’ve learned today, easily killing two birds with one stone.

He mentioned something earlier that night about a bust gone wrong, chewing frustratedly at his bottom lip as he spoke more with his eyes than his words before you had dragged him toward the back.

“Benny offered to take me on a date,” You address lightly, voice hitched as Javier used his palm against the inside of your thigh to spread it wider before it curls around the back of your knee and pulls up high over his lip, “he bought me an outfit and everything.”

He racks through the catalog of names in his brain.

Benny. Benny…Benito?

He wasn’t aware he’d spoked the name out loud until you’re responding with a soft acknowledgement as the desk bangs against the wall, your hand flattening out behind you for support, “Yes—same thing. I’m sure it’s for the—”

“The gala, yeah.”

He had spent the past few weeks trying to approach a way to get inside, knowing that this would be an opportunity to track the ever-expanding tree of sellers and suppliers, a front for the obvious drug trade that was happening, as you phrased it, right under his nose. 

The boat lead had only gotten them so far, knowing that there was much more nefarious shit going on that he was grasping at straws to collect off of, using you as his main source of information.

He knows it’s dangerous, but damn were you good at it.

“When did that c—come up?” Javier asks, grunting into your neck as his orgasm creeped in, his fingers drifting expertly over your clit as they had a dozen times before.

“Couple weeks ago,” You reply casually, both you falling into your eventual orgasms and only hearing him speak as he’s already disposed of his condom and was buttoning his jeans up.

“When were you gonna tell me that?”

It feels like a heavy weight on your chest, the clear betrayal in his voice coming from absolutely nowhere, immediately forcing you into defense mode as you sneer at him, adjusting your top back into your jeans as you tie your apron around your waist.

“I’m telling you now,” You retort, “I wasn’t even sure he dropped the clothes off here yesterday.”

It couldn’t have been that crucial of a detail, given that the gala wasn’t happening for another week according to the information that had been figured out.

Javier looks stiff suddenly, shoving his wallet into his back pocket before your hand is twisting around his bicep and shoving him back until he faces you.

“Is there something you need to say?” Your eyebrows raise slightly, expectant of the harsh words that were bound to be slung your way.

“I’m paying for information—honesty, too.”

“Yeah, well, you’re also paying to have sex with me.”

Javier isn’t sure why he feels it—it isn’t jealousy, necessarily. Just betrayal, that over the last few months you didn’t feel comfortable enough to share the information with him immediately, weary of the temptations of the cartel and the idea that they could pull you in, flip you against him.

He worries for your safety and well-being, knowing that he would be the one living with that guilt if anything happened to you. You were a friend at the very least, something few and far between for Javier after Steve had left. If he wasn’t at work or his own apartment, he was with you.

Javier forces a breath through his nose and huffs, eyes flicking toward you intensely. 

“It’s important to know this shit, so we can prepare.”

“Well, I didn’t want to say anything until I was sure, alright? It’s not like I’m keeping secrets. I’m sure you could do your research on me if you wanted, if you haven’t already. I have nothing to hide and nothing to gain, Javier.”

His shoulders relax slightly, widening as he puffs his chest out and takes a breath, “Yeah, but they have plenty to gain from you—we have to stay ahead.”

Always one step ahead.

–

The gala comes and goes without much preamble—and you know you’re serving as mostly arm candy, dressed scantily as you hand on the arm of a man you barely know, paraded around as a prize he’s won and showing off to his friends, but he’s surprisingly respectful.

Or, biding his time. You couldn’t tell. 

You don’t force off his small advances, a gentle touch or something too close for comfort as he lips pressing against the shell of your ear, whispering something you don’t pay much attention to as you survey the event, spotting a flurry of faces familiar and unfamiliar, picking up on names and information as it arises.

Javier could still hear everything on his end with the small, nearly invisible communication device shoved into your ear, hidden underneath your hair similar to last time, careful of which side you allowed Benny on.

“My boss is sending us on vacation soon,” You didn’t pay much attention, but Javier was, “could be fun, if you wanted to go—I could talk to him, he’d like you.”

Perfect. Useful. You can already hear the words that would float around if the opportunity arises. You prayed it would never get that far.

“Change the subject,” Javier says tensely, knowing you were traversing into dangerous territory.

“I’m sure your boss won’t mind, I’ll talk to him, too,” You can feel the smirk over your shoulder before you turn, wondering if he had ever met the owner of the diner or he was purely assuming, regardless, you laugh it off quietly.

“I have to stick around and keep things going, they wouldn’t survive without me,” You switch gears easily, “I don’t see you often, just your friends—why don’t you come around more?”

He’s only appeared a couple times and both were brief, first to ask you to the gala and then to give you the dress, almost like he’d rather avoid the place entirely. You were careful of giving him any personal information outside of where you worked, knowing that it wasn’t already accessible information.

“Is that what you want?”

“I don’t think it’s about what I want, is it?” You retort playfully, a smirk growing on his face as his thumb slides over your chin, careful how deep of a jab you make, “It’s up to you.”

Benito’s hand rubs over the back of your dress and down, fingers modeling against the loose wrinkles in the fabric as he moves over the curve of your ass and squeezes, a small squeak escaping your lips as you bite down at the inside of your cheek, ignoring the knee-jerk reaction to elbow him in the stomach.

“Not much longer, chiquita,” Javier reminds, seeming to hear your discomfort immediately. 

The next hour drags painstakingly slowly, but eventually Benito drops you off at the diner at your insistent request, despite his pressuring you to invite him back to your apartment.

When you step into the threshold of your living room, Javier is already opening up the dinner had ordered at your subtle request earlier that evening, a smug smile on his face as you shake your head in exhaustion, sleeping over you hills in and instant and half-way stripping out of your dress before you even make it to your bedroom.

Javier grins in amusement as you thrust the device that you rip out of your ear into his chest, quietly tucking it away on the table as he prepares the food.

You’re dressed for comfort when you return, a shirt reaching beyond your thighs as you settle the bare skin against the barstool, underwear peeking out as you sit, immediately shoveling the food into your mouth.

You ramble out the names you caught onto, watching as Javier scribbled them down, rubbing at your temples to soothe the growing headache as you finish up your food and shove it aside, eventually slumping against the counter as you groan weakly.

You can feel Javier’s hand graze your knee, squeezing gently at your thigh, a silent invitation.

“I’m so tired, Javi,” You admit, “You can keep your cash, don’t worry. The whole thing was a bust, anyways.”

The chair creaks as Javier leans toward you, whispering against your ear, “Ven aqui,” He beckons as he pulls at your arm, guiding you silently to your room, half-expecting him to tuck you into bed and leave, but then he’s guiding you backwards toward the mattress and spreading out between your legs on the duvet as he removes your underwear, your lips forming into a subtle pout until he’s splitting you open with his tongue, a gasp escaping at the sudden sensation, fingers twisting into his hair roughly.

“Javi, what are you doing?” You inquire—it was new, a careful line drawn between you both earlier on that it was strictly sex, disconnection, but now he was trying to leave the impression of his tongue against your cunt as he devoured you all at once, squeezing at your thighs to spread them open further, a sated expression on his face that had to be a mix of his own exhaustion, delirious with want.

“Where did he touch you?” Javier asks casually, eyes closed as he pressed gentle kisses to the inside of your thigh, pushing your shirt up higher as you guided his hand over your hip and down toward your ass and squeezing gently.

“There,” You admit before guiding his hand further up, alongside your ribs and around your back, another gentle squeeze before guiding his hand around and over your breasts, “and there—here,” You squeeze down tightly as your eyes fall shut, his mouth sucking over your clit as your back arches off the bed.

You come faster than you expect and had you known his mouth was so talented, you would have suggested this earlier, but through the waning of your orgasm you feel his tongue drifting over your skin in the wake of his previous touches, lapping at the salty skin before his tongue eventually finds the way toward your breast, swirling around the sensitive skin as your nipple hardens against his mouth, innately curious of his actions but not voicing them.

There was never any predicting with Javier, figuring that maybe he needed a little more distraction tonight, but as your orgasm dissipates and the hand in his hair stays, he never moves, only a low rumble to his breathing as you attempt to catch your own breath before you’re slowly leaning up and realizing his eyes were shut and he had fallen asleep.

Whatever was ailing him had finally taken hold, able to squirm away through his heavy sleep before you’re draping a blanket over his frame, still dressed from the day.

You can’t find the courage inside yourself to disturb him as he took up half of your bed, opting for the couch in the off-chance he woke up in the middle of the night to you beside him, stirring up another list of issues you didn’t feel like dealing with.

–

Surprisingly, you wake before him. The sky barely fading out of night as you stir, rising from the couch as the bulky phone on the counter—it was Javier’s, you knew that.

But still, you answer it. It couldn’t hurt, just tell them to leave a message.

Instead, as you hear the familiar voice on the other end, you find yourself pulled into an unsuspecting conversation with his father that drags into the morning hours as the sun rises, meandering over breakfast before you here him stirring in the other room, trying to ignore how pleasant but telling the conversation with Javier’s father was as you place the phone down on the counter and begin cooking breakfast, silently, still half-dressed in the clothes from the night prior, minus your underwear strewn somewhere on your bedroom floor.

He’d asked how Javier was doing when you told him your name, surprised that he was familiar with you, learning that Javier had spoken about you to him, though briefly.

Probably in passing, maybe. You try not to dwell on it.

“He seems fine,” You told him, “Busy, though.”

He’s always busy, he tells you. Cuidar a mi hijo.

He was worried, rightfully so. But, Javier was an adult, his own person. 

He wasn’t your responsibility and you weren’t his.

And you try to ignore the strange sensation in your chest at the immediate elation from his father hearing your name, like an old family friend hearing from you for the first time in years, even though you knew very little of his father.

You’ve learned enough about Javier, at least. His likes and dislikes, vague interests that he commented on, the grimace in his face that would grow deeper the harder he got stuck on something, a thought or idea.

Javier clears his throat as he enters the kitchen, avoiding your gaze as you slide the meat and eggs onto two separate plates before passing it to him.

“You could have woke me up,” He said, looking up at you briefly with mused hair, his shirt wrinkled from sleep.

“Your father called,” You ignored his comment, “you should call him back.”

“You talked to him?” Javier asks blankly, no distinct emotion shining through.

“For, like, half a second,” You lie, “I just told him you were asleep.”

He didn’t need to know his father’s worry or how much he’d given away about what he knew of you, secrets that were obviously meant to be kept between them, but as Javier chews with thought, eager to break the lingering silence, he asks.

“He mentioned it, didn’t he?”

You shrug your shoulders cluelessly, “I think you’re gonna have to be more specific.”

“That I’ve talked about you, or at least, he knows who you are.”

“It’s none of my business, really.”

“He hears you, at the diner—he’s nosey. I’ve mentioned you in passing. I just…I know how he gets, I don’t want you thinking anything is going on,”

“I’m not paid to think, Javier,” You tell him.

It’s disparaging, his nose scrunching up slightly at your words and the emptiness with which you throw them. This is where he always seemed to fuck up, distinguishing work from his life but somehow maintaining the balance of peace and humanity.

Do you want to explain last night? You mind screamed, but instead you offer him his coffee, the usual black with minimal or no sugar, giving him the option as you slide the mug and container in his direction. He fishes blindly for his wallet but your hand stops him.

You sigh, “That’s not—I wasn’t implying you need to now. I—I just think we should maybe reframe what we’re doing, given that things have…progressed,” The word lingers on your tongue while you bite at your bottom lip. “I’m worried they might find out where I live or about you—or the fact that I’m literally helping the DEA catch them and praying can only do so much and I’m here alone—”

“Hermosa, slow down,” Javier urges, shoving his wallet back into his pocket at your guidance and avoiding the obvious domesticity of having slept overnight in your apartment and ate the breakfast you cooked him. 

It was in his nature to care, to a degree. It was his downfall sometimes, to a devastating fault. He striked while you were vulnerable and roped you into his own mess, now paying for it with guilt that had seeped into his personal life, spending the entire night prior picturing how Benito was handling you, how he could step in—how it could have been him instead.

“She doesn’t sound like work,” His father had told him a week ago, returning a flirtatious quip as you had passed him his usual coffee and offered him a light for his cigarette after his hadn’t worked, that sort of boyish tone in his voice that his father picked up on in a second.

The lines had blurred with Helena after a while, a similar circumstance that he continued to find himself in—paying for info, paying for sex, attempting to make it impersonal. But, here you were, staring at him with wide, fearful eyes, and he didn’t know how to fix the mess he had made. 

He couldn’t see you hurt or send you into danger like he had with Helena, the helpness he’d felt as he discovered her near lifeless body, covered in blood and bruises after she had been beaten and traded around—it couldn’t happen, it wouldn’t.

–

Javier returns with a phone later that day, similar to his with his number attached to a piece of paper he shoves into your hand as he directs you to pack a bag in the case of an actual emergency, something quick to grab that you wouldn’t have to second guess about. 

“You’re making it seem like I should be leaving now,” You tell him, taking the items he passes into your hand as you fold a stack of clothes and toiletries into the bag.

Javier shakes his head, “It’s better be safe,” He explains, “I…doubt—I don’t think they would be. We have someone listening around the clock, people on the inside, there haven't been any red flags.”

“What if something does? What if I can’t reach you?”

“I hope you’re okay, please come home.” He tells you simply, your face contorting in confusion. “It’s a code—a phrase only you and I know. If you use that, it means danger. Through a note, or that phone. I just have to hear it.”

You zip the bag up in silence, feeling the weight of the web you had tangled yourself in finally settling, curious if you would be back at square one, fleeing to a different country to escape your problems.

“I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” Javier promises, suddenly closer than you’ve ever known him to allow himself outside of sex, his finger drags along your chin and forces it up, looking at him, “¿Entiendes?”

You nod, a subtle motion but Javier sees it.

“Javier, we should talk,” You echo once more, though with different meaning, “about last night.”

“I’ll still pay, hermosa—that isn’t a problem.”

You could handle the way it was eating at you.

“No, I mean—I mean why did last night happen? Why is your dad telling me to keep you safe?”

His face hardens at the mention of his father.

It’s just sex, you can hear the words before they roll off his tongue, ignoring your second question entirely.

Tell me where he touched you.

“You started this, you know?” You remind him, “You made this transactional.”

Was he scared of you?

Eerily silent he remains, you speak for him.

“I’m not a whore either, so if that is how you view me—I really don’t want your help at all.”

The keys in hand are gripped tight as you chance a glance toward the floor, his body entirely unmoving, his eyes downturned and staring in a similar direction, almost like he couldn’t find the words.

I”m not asking you to give a shit about me, but—”

His answer is a kiss, searing and intense, keys tossed to your bed as his fingers dive into your hair, curling around your head as you make a sound of surprise, steadying yourself as you grip his biceps and stumble backwards, tripping over the dress you had stripped yourself of last night.

You still hadn’t dressed from earlier, his hands flattening against your hips as he molds the soft flesh under his grip, his teething biting into your bottom lip as he murmurs, “Belt, get my belt,” without question, your fingers go to work, ripping the leather away in a practiced motion as you continue to unbutton his jeans, “—think I don’t give a shit, are you fucking insane?”

“A little,” You jest, “I mean—I’m helping you, aren’t I?”

This felt strangely vulnerable, his fingers pulling at your shirt with a deliberate endgame.

Naked in the natural lighting of your room, his fingers reaching for his own shirt as you work his jeans down his hips, appreciating his tanned skin as it shines with a thin layer of sweat. Despite the sticky heat that permeated throughout your apartment, his touch is cooling, comforting even.

“Another freebie?” You tease him further, hearing him snort as he reaches for his wallet and crowded you on the mattress, opening the tight leather before he grabs a wad of cash and shoves it into the sheets before tossing his wallet aside and diving between your breasts.

“Making me a poor man,” Javier retorts, peeking up through your tits as he squeezed them in his grip, mouthing delicately along the skin, “shit—but this, s’fuckin’ priceless.”

“I’m—fuck, I’m kidding, Javier. I don’t want your money. Never wanted it.”

It had always been about convenience, never expecting things to end up like this.

It was a mess, both of you were.

He’s seeing all of you, for once, and you him. 

And you know he needs, wants, without saying.

He fucks you slow, legs hitched around his hips as buries his head into the space beside yours, only rising as your noises grow with intensity, the bluntness of your nails digging into his skin.

“Inside,” You beg, “inside of me, Javi.”

He moans pathetically, lips squished against your cheek as his hips falter.

“Yeah?” He grunts, “Can I?”

You giggle airly at his question, nodding fervently.

“Mierda,” He curses brokenly, groaning softly into your skin as he pumps himself inside of you, the warmth of his cum filling you to the brim, oozing out as his hips slow, his hands kneading into your skin as he rests, breathing rapidly against your chest.

“We should—should talk, Javier.” You tell him again, after a moment of silence. “Like, really talk—you know?”

Javier hums in acknowledgment, “Tonight—give me until tonight, okay?”

Tonight was good enough, for now.

–

The first thing you feel when you rouse from sleep is pain.

White-hot and persistent, restrained by your hand as they’re tucked behind your back. You feel more hands, the sound of stiff leather and the smell, overwhelming as it invades your senses.

“I see why he keeps you around,” The voice comes from behind, eyes bleary as you blink before the hand in your hair grips tight, only catching the fist coming at you from your peripheral before your world goes dark.

When you wake again, you’re upright and in a chair, head slung back uncomfortable as you attempt to stretch, feeling heavy and groggy as you move, remembering the moment from earlier you become alert within seconds, eyes searching around frantically as you spot two men.

They were strangers, faces covered, but obviously sent here for a reason.

“Benny thought he could get it out of you,” The man says dismissively, “you foreigners—stupid, messy, predictable.” He grabs the fabric of your dress and plucks the small, miniscule device from the fabric that you missed, squinting to see it before the man breaks it between two fingers and tosses the dirtied fabric aside.

“We got her to ourselves, plenty of time to—”

“No,” The other man replies sternly to the obvious subservient man, “her boss—that’s what we came here for.”

“My boss?” You croak eventually, “At the diner? What do you want with—”

The gun he pulls from his back silences you in an instant. He reaches for the phone on the counter, the yellow sticky note still attached, “That him?”

“It’s mine,” You reply with ease, “I’m forgetful and—”

Your throat swells as he ignores you, dialing the number.

You hadn’t let the reality of the situation settle until you heard Javier’s voice on the other end, careful to not give anything away as his voice comes across more energetic than usual. They didn’t seem upset at the lie, but the finger on the trigger squeezed slightly as his voice came through, a silent order to play along.

“Hola, chiquita,” Javier greets smoothly, “¿Todo bien?”

You laugh softly, “Yes—yeah.”

You know what they want, what they need.

“I hope you’re okay, please come home.” You beg, voice unwavering as you stare the two men down, both of them seeming satisfied by your ploy to get Javier to the apartment without much argument.

The line falls dead without a response, the phone tosses aside to the floor as it shatters into pieces. 

Unfortunately, they weren’t going to get it easily.

–

You wished you could warn him.

One wrong move and the blade at your throat, the gun to your head—they would be your undoing.

You stared blankly at the broken lock and hinge of your door, footsteps approaching as you whimpered, the sharpness of the knife pressing against your skin as Javier whips around the corner and into the apartment.

The white-hot pain returns as you’re met with the butt of the gun, slumping from the chair as chaos whirls around you, curled up on the floor and crawling desperately away from danger as someone screams, gargling as it sounds, probably on their own blood. 

You couldn’t look back, breathing panickedly as you hid behind the couch and huddled in on yourself, a gun going off unexpectedly as your ears ring, gasping as you hear the sound of a blade puncturing skin once, twice, before it clamers to the floor.

You wait a moment, although it feels like eternity, expecting the cold press of a gun against the back of your skull, but instead it was a hand and eventually another, the faint smell of a familiar cologne that brought you comfort and warmth.

“Baby, we have to go,” Javier urges, “I have to get you out.”

Out?

You look up, his eyes wild but lacking any indicators of violence.

“It isn’t safe here.” He reiterates, “Can you walk?”

You nod weakly, feeling his hand wrap around your waist as he assists you in rising to your feet, still discombobulated and wobbly, he sticks by your side as you grab your things, silent as he eventually, alongside the crowd of presumably agents and police that pass by, invading your apartment, Javier is a guiding light of reassurance before you’re barricaded in the safety of his car.

“It was a tracker,” You mumble eventually, “when he was feeling me up that night—it was because he was trying—well, he—he did, he put a—”

You blink, feeling the sting of tears as you look up at Javier.

“Things are getting worse. It isn’t safe for you here, not anymore.”

“Here? What—what do you mean?”

–

Here meant Colombia.

Which is how you ended up in Texas two weeks later. Laredo to be specific. 

Javier had a place close to home. His family.

And you had talked extensively, it was the only thing that kept the panic from consuming you that night as he drove you to the embassy, tying up some loose ends before he drove you to the airport without any explanation until he was shoving the ticket into your hand.

His father had been waiting for you, as somber in expression as his son. 

They were so similar it made your heart swell, an unfamiliar feeling. 

Javier couldn’t explain what he was feeling for you and you could accept that, but he was careful and adamant in the idea that you would spend your time at his home, already setting you up with a similar job in town, a seamless transition that felt strange, but oddly easy to settle into.

“What if I just left?” You tease him one night, hearing his desk creek as he head slumps into his unoccupied hand, “Would that be easier for you?”

“No,” Javier says sternly, “I’m—this…I think I might be done. Feels like I’m fighting a battle that I’ll never win, feelings fucking pointless.”

It had been months now, curled up on his couch as you stared out the window and toward the empty road, wondering if the chill of fall was creeping in as the cool breeze hit your skin, “No more waitresses to help you out down there, huh?”

Javier snickers at that, though it was quiet.

“Stop that,” He chastises, “It’s not funny.”

You giggle in return, “I know, I know—just remember who’s keeping your bed warm every night, yeah? Oh—and your dad, he keeps asking when you’re gonna call.”

You hear him huff at that, clearing his throat awkwardly as he mumbles an apology to someone on the other end, the faint hum of the office around him feeding through the receiver. 

“I hope you’re okay, please come home.”

It wasn’t a cry for help this time, but still a phrase that was special.

A code, a message. A lifeline.

Javier was barely surviving amongst the cartel as tensions had pulled taut and drug trade seemed at an all-time high, nearly unstoppable anymore. 

It was beyond him, out of his control.

And for the first time in a long time, he has a reason, a want, to come home.

“Soon, chiquita. Soon.”

You could hear the exhaustion in his voice and it worried you immensely. 

“Don’t let it consume you, Javi. You’ve done enough.”

On the other end, his brow furrows. Disgruntled and annoyed at how right you were, echoing the similar sentiment his dad had told him a thousand times. 

He was done, he wanted out.

-

"El envío llega el domingo." / The shipment arrives on Sunday.

"¿Cómo te va? ¿Lo estás pasando bien?” / How are you doing? Are you having a good time?

"Cuidar a mi hijo." / Take care of my son.

[sunnyie-eve]

54 | Today is the Day

Series: Unexpected

Paring: Matt Sturniolo x OFC Brock!

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: steamy kissing, slight dry humping

| MASTERLIST |

At the moment Dani dreaded getting out of bed. Last night her and Matt finally agreed to let Nick and Chris in on the secret of them. They were even going to film a video for her channel to post in the future to announce they were together. But that wasn't the main reason she wasn't jumping for joy. He also mentioned telling Colby after telling Nick and Chris later in the day.

Turning her head to the right, she looks at the spot Matt was sleeping in before sneaking back to his room before anyone woke up, "I hate that I fell for your stupid ass." She laughs at herself. 

Rolling out of bed she grabs clothes for the day to change into after her shower. She hoped a shower would relax her a bit. While showering she hears Matt enter the bathroom to use it, "Morning." He tells her still tired.

"What time did you leave?" 

"I believe it was six o'clock. I still don't understand while we've been sneaking back to our rooms for the past few weeks. They already know we have sleepovers." Matt looks at himself in the mirror.

"We didn't want them thinking too much." She laughs.

"Well to keep up the act... I'll leave now. They're in the kitchen so they know I came in here while you're showering." He tells her before opening the shower door to poke his head in, "Kiss." Dani shakes her head giving him a kiss before he leaves.

Nick and Chris still didn't fully understand how the two shared the bathroom when one was showering and the other had to pee. The shower door was semi-see though so they thought it was impossible but it wasn't. Way before the two even started dating then talked about how they could make it work. Plan and simple, don't look. Do what you need to do and go. Plus they respected each other no matter how bad they each wanted to take a peek at some point.

After the shower, Dani eats breakfast with the guys and then they all relax on the couch watching TV before going out later to film the car video for Dani's channel. As time got closer to leaving Matt could tell Dani didn't want it to come. 

"I need to get things ready." She goes to her room and the other two didn't think much of it.

Matt waits for a bit before going to check on her to see her pacing her room, "Honestly, I'm relieved we are finally doing this with them." He tells her.

"Until they joke even more about us." Dani adds, "And now keep an eye on us when alone."

"True, true, true but I can finally kiss you around the house without being careful." He wraps his arms around her, "That's the best part of this." He gives her a kiss and sees the look on her face, "You're mainly nervous because when we release it and telling Colby later."

"Duh, and we haven't talked since our fight. What when I see him say, hey remember that fight we had about me liking Matt or not? Yeah, we've been dating for months actually." She gives Matt a look walking away from him as he sits on her bed,

"Not exactly, but I'll be with you. If he acts up we leave. It's that simple." He tells her, "Come here." He puts his arms out then takes her hands pulling her closer, "You won't be alone, I promise."

"And this is why I fucking love you."

What started as a sweet and slow kiss quickly turned into Dani straddling his lap, making out intensely. The thought of Colby was completely forgotten, his hands resting firmly on her hips as he held her close. Matt's grip tightened on her hips as the kiss deepened, his body responding eagerly to her closeness. His hands slide up from her hips, trailing gently along her sides

Matt pauses briefly, "We should hurry and tell them." He leans in, his lips hovering just inches from hers, his breath mingling with hers, "Just so they know if we're alone to leave us alone." He murmurs, his voice low, before attacking her lips again.

"Matt." She giggles as she kisses him back. 

His thumb gently tilts her chin up so he can deepen the kiss. His hands slowly slide down to her waist, his touch gentle and reassuring.

Matt's body responds to Dani's closeness and the intensity of the kiss. A noticeable bulge begins to form in his pants, growing with each passing moment. His hands guide her hips in slow, gentle movements against his growing erection, and Dani knew exactly what he was doing. His kisses become more urgent, his breathing heavier as he fights the urge to grind harder against her. 

"You know we're about to leave right." She reminds him trying to hold back her moans as she kisses along his jaw.

"Sadly it doesn't take me long when it comes to you." His hips buckle a bit.

"Yeah, you c-," He cuts her off with his lips on her again. 

Matt's hands slide up her back, arching her closer to him as he continues the rhythm against her. His teeth gently scraping against her neck as he kisses but doesn't suck at her sensitive skin. His free hand reaches up to gently tug at her hair, pulling her head back further to give him better access to her neck.

"GUYS ARE YOU SET TO GO!" Chris yells ready to film since he was bored out of his mind. 

"See what I mean." Matt groans tossing his head back.

"Yeah, and you have extra jeans in here so you're lucky." Dani gets off him.

"Now lets go do this." He smiles once he was in new pants and calms himself down before leaving her room first then she follows.

"Can someone please tell me what we are doing if not a normal car video? For our channel or Dani's channel. I'm getting nervous." Nick asks sitting in the back with Dani as they film for a video.

"It's for the future." Dani lets him and Chris know.

"Guys, I just wanna say before we get into the reason for this future video..." Matt starts to rub his hands together getting nervous.

"So this is for your channel?" Chris looks back at Dani.

"Yes, it's for my channel but for months in advance." She tells him.

"So there's something the two of us know and a few others know too that you two and a few others don't know. It's a big thing and a huge deal that has been going on. Any guesses?" Matt asks his brothers.

"Yeah, it's a big thing that has been going on since late March." Dani adds.

"I seriously have no idea what it could be." Nick laughs, "It sounds like some big secret project."

"Is it a brand deal?" Chris asks looking at Matt then back at her.

"Not close at all." She points with her finger laughing.

"Hell, are you secretly pregnant?" Chris jokes to me funny shocking the others.

"What the fuck? To you, I'm single so how? Plus I would be huge by now." Dani laughs at him not believing him.

"It was a joke since I have no clue what it could be."

"It's a big deal?" Nick looks at Matt.

Matt nods his head, "'It's super huge." Matt turns to look at him.

"Is it bigger than us when we shared you turned me down?" Chris looks back at Dani again.

"I would say it's the same level but higher." Dani nods her head a bit, "Shock value. More hate" She adds.

"Which sucks." Matt says before breaking the news, "Regardless you're my girlfriend." He adds and the two gasp.

"That I am." Dani smiles as Matt looks back at her.

"What?!" Nick shouts, "Are you FUCKING SERIOUS!" He now yells throwing his arms up making Matt and Dani laugh.

"WE KNEW SOMETHING WAS UP!" Chris shouts turning back to point at Nick.

"You fucking assholes."

"Just friends my ass." Chris adds making Nick laugh.

"We did okay." Matt smiles looking back at Dani.

"I think we did well." She agrees with him.

"When we joked about something going on between you two. We didn't seriously think it." Nick explains to the two.

"We just hoped at one point our joking would become true." Chris adds then stops for a second, "Turns out we were right to joke around. And I'm super happy."

"We were lucky we were already super close before hand." Dani explains why she thinks the secret was easy to keep from the two.

"We got to play it off easier." Matt smiles at Dani causing her to smile too.

"Why wait to tell us about it?" Chris asks wanting to know.

"We wanted to enjoy it without you two driving us insane." Dani tells him.

"Technically, you two still drove us crazy wanting it to happen." Matt adds laughing.

"It was worse than if you knew." Dani makes Nick laugh pointing at Chris since he was the main one.

"I feel like you two should thank me." Chris decides to mess with the two.

"Thank... you?" Dani says confused.

"Like what?" Matt turns back to look at her confused as well.

"Yeah." Chris nods his head, "If like she didn't turn me down."

Matt starts to shake his head, "Dude. You're joking but still don't. It's weird. Don't please." M=He says a bit annoyed with the joke because it wasn't funny at all.

Chris looks at his phone for a few seconds as the car filled with silence, "Yeah, I know that was a bit much." Chris agrees it was out of line, "I'm sorry." He apologizes, "Dani, you know it was a joke as well, right?" He looks back at her.

"I do but remember there's still fans who wish I said yes to you..." Dani gives him a look then at the camera, "Too bad so sad to y'all out there that wanted that." She makes the guys crack up.

"Yeah, she's Matt's and only Matt's." Nick snaps his fingers pointing at the camera, "We are team Datt till death." He adds making Matt laugh while pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Also Madison, Tara, Justin, and your mom know about us." Dani adds letting them know who else knew before them.

"We know mom and Justin keep secrets." Nick shakes his head rolling his eyes a bit.

"Yep." Matt laughs.

"Now we gotta keep an eye on you two." Chris points his finger at the two shaking it a bit, "No more doors closed." He makes them laugh at him.

"Now I say lets go to lunch before we have to tell Colby." Matt tells the whole car.

"Oh yeah." Nick agrees.

"Man do I wish we were 21 so you two drink beforehand." Chris tells the two and they all laugh.

[muninnhuginn]

also throwing out a few wild thoughts here after watching the new ep:

why is everyone so weird when hearing cwm's name? as we've seen cwm's thing here seems to be that he 'wants to do better by these kids' (let's ignore the safeguarding issues about saying he wants to be their friends when a teacher a sec). so, speculation: cwm deliberately takes the fall for the actual arsonist who'll likely be either xia fei or wang qing?

and yeah as everyone has picked up on cxs knows way too much to survive this loop - not sure how they're gonna play his death or if they'll specifically tie it up to s2 finale but only a week to go now

lu guang is the subtlest wdym. 'yeah like if we high five we can probably share powers' bestie what. (on a related note, his bit about 'powers are just like traits' vibed really mob psycho to me. I wonder if it's what past cxs 'taught' him about his powers after he'd grown up thinking of them in a less positive way)

said this already in another post but "what's the point in waiting if there's no hope?" is definitely a thematic string to pull on

cheng xiaoshi gets the speech/verbal understanding language module of whoever he possesses but not the written understanding. this is pure trivia, but still interesting to know. we know from his later interaction with vein that he sure doesn't retain the language knowledge after the fact

lu guang and cheng xiaoshi losing connection again during the dive. the show always make a point of highlighting when this happens. was trying to figure out if any other powers could be interfering here as happened with the twins, but touch-wise at least, it seems... unlikely? (though can't rule out other power interference entirely) but if anything, the way lu guang was sweating when we got the focus back to him after the connection rejoined makes it seem like this was an issue on his end (one which ig resulted in cxs having to improvise and therefore get caught from a show perspective). lu guang being ill affecting his powers tracks with what he said pre-twins dive in s2 though. even though the connection itself was likely lost due to the twins, he was still struggling to see everything that happened in the photo before that. I wonder if we'll return to this as a plot point at any point, the idea that lu guang being ill or injured can mess with his powers - there was a post the other day (I think by @ sunslants) about it being neat if lu guang fainted in yingdu because his whole body is giving out under this power, and whilst idk how *likely* that is in canon, it'd definitely add a new deadline to things, if lu guang has to resolve everything before his whole body just gives out

oh yeah seems like vein knows whatever it is that xia fei also knows about the arson. not super surprising but potential motive forming ig?

cheng xiaoshi getting out his feelings to his dad in the form of wang qing was very good but the whole time lu guang was like "yeah sorry I didn't give you a heads up" I was there head in hands like "lu guang. please. this is your MO at this point"

still no answer about cxs' mum and why she followed after cwm then *also* vanished (tbh even the fact cwm up and went full no contact with cxs has me like ??? but I can't tell if we're meant to just let that be or question it further). it feels like there's way more to this, but hard to see how that plus everything else is getting resolved in the one episode we have left

"You're a total control freak" "That's because of you." Lu Guang....

Basketball halo'd Lu Guang when he asked Cheng Xiaoshi to do ibuprofen together....

Cheng Xiaoshi wanting to get revenge on the bullies and Lu Guang instantly responding along the lines of "well, hey, they're all gonna die soon" cracked me up. Was probably meant to be more of an "oof" but. I laughed.

[kingmakerpod]

Might be an uncouth subject, but I was wondering if you'd be willing to share some insight on what kind of money goes into producing audio dramas (specifically when it comes to reaching out to/compensating vocal talent.) I know a lot depends on what tools and connections you already have; I'm just looking for a flexible baseline to start from and make sure I'm not cheating or insulting folks by asking them to work for peanuts. Having a target to save up for would be a huge help. Thanks so much!

(And yeah, I'll totally admit this is partly just me wondering how you fine WANA folks managed to nab Jonny Sims and Tiana Camacho for Killjam XXX; let me know if this is a question better posed via email and I'll get out of your hair, sorry for bothering!)

This isn't an uncouth question at all. It's actually a great question and we'll be happy to answer it!

It's hard to give a definitive baseline for budget beyond the cost of web hosting and audio equipment, which in itself can vary quite a bit. The yeti mic and arm set we (Meg and Henry) bought for Less is Morgue (and still record a lot of Killjam and TKH on) cost about 200 dollars. If I remember correctly the hosting costs for Less is Morgue were about 30 a month, and for Kingmaker it's 14 dollars a month. Those are the only two things you absolutely need to spend money on, so it's definitely possible to make a good quality audio drama for under a grand. In fact, we would absolutely not recommend going over a grand at this point. You definitely don't want to shoot too high with the budget for your first project. Spoken from experience, you will end up spending it on things you'll later realise weren't worth it.

The most important thing is just to put something out there first so the actors can tell that the project is real and you're not just stringing them along. The few episodes of Less is Morgue were pretty much all done in-house with a cast that was mostly people we were already friends with, and we didn't do any open auditions until midway through the season. Another way to do it is to start off as a single narrator podcast then gradually introduce a full cast as the show goes on. Other shows have released a pilot episode to the public that then serves as an advertisement for what the rest of the show will sound like. Once you have a sample of your work out there, you can start reaching out to actors.

When it comes to how you compensate your talent- just be upfront about how much money you're working with. The best way to not cheat or insult folks is by giving them realistic expectations. Don't promise money you don't have, and don't ask them to do work for something that you won't be able to finish. If you're honest and easy to work with, a lot of voice actors will be willing to adjust their rates or work for free. Speaking from a voice actor's perspective, Addison said she would be willing to work for free on a first time indie project if it seemed fun and interesting and she could tell that it was something the creator was really passionate about.

As for how we got some of our big names- it really is all about cultivating a reputation for being cool to work with. Maybe not the most useful advice for a first project, but it will be useful later, and it is true. At this point the WANA core four have been involved in The NoSleep Podcast, Congeria, Less is Morgue, The Kingmaker Histories and Mayfair Watcher's Society, and that's only counting the stuff that more than one of us have been involved with. Every project we try to make loads of friends. Eventually you will have enough mutual friends with enough people that you can just hit up Jonny Sims and Tiana Camancho, because someone you know worked with them on some other thing and they're willing to vouch for you.

[iconuk01]

Well, not really, from the first proper arc he appears in "A Lonely Place of Dying", it's very clear that Tim's parents are absent from his life for much of the time because they travel for Jack's work and Janet goes with him because she enjoys it. (

So Tim ends up in a boarding school.

But even during a holiday week, and him being only 13 years old, he's free to travel from Gotham (stalking Batman) to New York (trying to find Dick) to wherever the heck Haley's Circus was (Where Dick working), without any adult in his life noticing or seeming to care.

(The next big arc he's in is NOT Wolfman penned, it's Alan Grant, but since it's only a couple of months later, it's working off of what we've seen set up as establishing his background)

It's actually pretty sad that he get's so excited about something as simple as postcard from his parents. (Detective 618)

And even then it's telling him they're taking more time away from him for business.

We barely know what that business are, mind you. Jack is a fairly successful, if generic, businessman with his own vague by successful company, and Janet seems to tag along with him, possibly to play hostess for jack's business dealings, but presumably so they can both take advantage of their trips to explore their passion for archaelogy as a hobby.

To be honest, we barely ever meet Janet, who dies in this, the first proper story arc she's appeared in. ("Rite of Passage"), and even then it's clear from the above that the Drake's marriage is... not the most romantic anymore, or even that happy.

I don't think for a moment they were deliberately abusive to Tim, but they do seem to have been consistently distracted by other things in their lives, to the extent they can definitely be seen as loving, but neglectful, of their only child.

They make sure he has nice clothes and a good school, and somewhere to stay during vacations with a housekeeper to keep an eye on him, though she seems to have ben incredibly easy for Tim to circumvent (See his cross country trek above)

And they don't think to ask Tim to join THEM on their travels during his vacation, but are happy to swan off around the world leaving him at home... repeatedly.

fanon Tim Drake: Dick... the first time I was hugged was when you hugged me at the circus

canon: *literally being held by his father when he meets dick*

[renzireads]

One drink and straight to bed, he vowed to himself.

“A water?” The barman scoffed. “The poor man’s choice, I see.”

Wally chuckled. “The choice of a man who just got here from a trip longer than you can imagine. D’ya got any rooms free up in this place or?”

The barman’s face softened, and he laughed as he went to grab a glass of water. Returning, he leaned in as he handed Wally his drinks. “We do, but tell me, have you ever been here before?”

A blush rose up his cheeks as Wally shook his head. “To be perfectly honest, I’m not even sure where ‘here’ is,” he laughed awkwardly. He suddenly felt very looked at.

“Curious.” The man pulled back, then nodded to himself. “Gotham usually doesn’t show herself to people who haven’t been here before, well, unless she has plans for you. Or so they say.”

“Gotham?” Wally blurted out, eyes widened in shock. “I can’t believe I’m actually here.” He laughed, not because he was happy, but he couldn’t help himself from laughing at his own stupidity. Of course, with all the weirdness going on around here, how didn’t he realize this sooner?

He did it. He found the no-man’s-land that was particularly starting to look like an any-man’s-land to him. The place he had been looking for all along.

“You know, there’s some rumors about-” The bartender started, then stopped dead in his sentence and looked up behind Wally. Right then, Wally felt two, strong hands clasp onto his shoulders.

“You’re in my seat.” A deep, bouldering voice said, the two goons behind him snickering loudly.

Wally looked around him and noticed the two chairs besides him had indeed come up empty. Still, he shrugged and tipped his drink back. “And I was having a really good conversation.” He shot back, not getting off the chair. “Please, do continue.”

He heard a couple “Ooh”’s and “Shit”’s and snickers behind him as the saloon fell silent. All eyes fell on him, or well, them, as Wally shrugged the hands off his shoulders and leaned forward.

“Funny, kid.” The man all but growled. The bottle in his hand -some dirt cheap brand of beer, Wally guessed- came into his view as Wally skillfully -although accidentally- dodged the bottle when he turned the bar chair around. The glass made a painful shattering noise as it came into contact with the edge of the bar, sending shards everywhere.

His attacker staggered back, the intoxication visible in how he tripped rather gracefully against one of his back-up buddies. Immediately, everyone at the bar shot up from their seats and started screaming. Some people saw this as the perfect time to throw some punches around, and Wally winced as he heard the rough sound of a cracking bone right next to him.

It all happened in the blink of an eye, the way this bar fight came to be, but now everyone was in on it. Everyone, except for Wally. Shit, had he really just started this? He frantically looked around, hoping to spot a way out of this mess he had so swiftly created. Hells, he hadn’t even been here for over ten minutes and he already-

A hand slipped around his wrist, and the strong grip pulled him out of his thoughts as fast as he was pulled out of the saloon. When the cold night’s air pushed his hair out of his eyes, his mind cleared. Loud screams and thuds against the walls and floors, although a bit more muted now, made him look at one of the windows.

What just happened?

“You’re really quite something, y’know?” An amused, cocky voice startled him fully away from whatever was happening inside the saloon now, and he traced his eyes to the figure in front of him.

[spencersbabymama]

Numbers l Chapter Three

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Disabled OC

Content Warning: Disability, negative self talk, blushing Spencer, talk of bizarre piercing fetish

Word Count: 1.6k

Summary: Brooke is thrust into work and it's not exactly what she expects.

Taglist: @just-call-me-by-yn @esote-rika

A/n: Thank you all for reading so far! Working on this fic has really made me fall in love with writing again 🩷🩷🩷 Also again, credit to @just-call-me-by-yn for always making my banners! I love you!

Story:

Luckily, Hotch had apparently worked closely with Penelope to explain the adaptive tech I use to run a pc efficiently.  So now I was helping her rummage through my backpack.  I have to admit watching her pull out various tangled plugs was an entertaining sight.  At first I wanted to apologize for not having my equipment more organized, but Penelope was so proud of herself every time she untangled a new wire. It was like a game to her.  

While that fiasco was going on, out of the corner of my eye I noticed Spencer dragging his finger down each page of the case file then turning each page about every 15 seconds.  His eyes tracked each word at lightning speed.  Honestly it looked like when a kid pretends to read to get it over with.  I know I should probably just leave him be, but my curiosity outweighed manners.  My eyebrows furrow in his direction “Are you really reading that fast?”

His head snapped up to look at me “Hm?” He looked confused at first but after a second he let out a small laugh under his breath like he was a little embarrassed and nodded softly “Yeah…”

My mouth opened to ask obvious follow up questions, like most notably, how on earth is that even humanly possible? But I was quickly cut off.

Spencer cleared his throat before continuing “Actually our conscious minds can process 16 bits of information per second, while our unconscious mind can process 11 million.  So to answer your question, yes I really can read this fast.”

There goes my stunned face again and I blinked at the guy for a moment.  I wasn’t sure if I should be disturbed, or wildly impressed by this guy’s smarts, I was mostly in awe. He was like a human computer.  I like computers, so we’ll probably get along.  

My face softened and I giggled softly “Cool.”

That same pink tint creeped across Spencer’s cheeks as he smiled, then went back to reading the case file.

Did this guy ever get complimented?  This was the second time he blushed in my direction and I wasn’t sure what I was doing to cause it.  Honestly it was kind of… cute in a boyish kind of way.

“Ah ha!” Penelope cheered, making me turn around to see her proudly displaying all my equipment set up.  

I smiled and guided my wheelchair up to the desk, making sure everything I would need is plugged in.  Although there was probably no need to doubt Penelope, her portion of the desk had three separate monitors she had to run, a few plugs were most likely nothing to her.

Penelope hung my backpack on the back of my wheelchair before taking her seat next to me “Should we take this for a spin?” She grinned.

I smiled back, unable to hide my eagerness to get started.  Penelope handed me the small mouse that fits in my hand along with the touchpad keyboard and I signed into my system for the first time.

🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

Snapshots of different message exchanges appear on my screen.  It took a little bit of time, but after about an hour, Penelope, Spencer, and I managed to find one common person all the missing women have had contact with.  Their username was Hotrod94, if that doesn’t scream man who thinks he’s a gift from God I don’t know what does.  The back and forth text exchanges stopped completely within 3 days so the timeline fit.  Now us 3 were looking through each conversation for any info we could find that could tell us anything about where these women could be, or who took them.

Each message seemed normal, too normal.  It was almost haunting how the person on the other side of the screen could sound so charming.  No matter how smart or vigilant these women were, they didn’t have a chance.

“These poor girls had no idea what they were walking into…” Penelope sighed under her breath.  I could hear the empathy and hopelessness she was feeling for these women on the screen.

I couldn’t help but feel it myself.  It was one thing to talk about it, but looking into the eyes of each woman now, only made the urgency to find them stronger.  During training they tell you don’t get emotionally involved, don’t let yourself go there.  It will cloud your judgment.  Sure, most of that is true, but now that I was here, empathy is what was pushing me.

Spencer stuck his head between us to get a better look at the screens.  His eyes squinted like he was trying to focus on something.  You didn’t have to look at him hard to see the hamsters running on a wheel in his head.  With that brain of his, those hamsters were probably running a marathon at lightning speed.  The poor creatures probably don’t know what rest even is.

His face was only a few inches from mine but for some unexplainable reason, he felt closer.  It was like my personal bubble doubled in size to fit him inside.  My gaze kept flickering in his direction before I realize what I’m doing and my attention goes back to the screen in front of me.  That cycle went on about 3 times before Spencer finally spoke.

He used his pen he had been fidgeting with and pointed to one of the sentences sent by the unsub. “He never uses I in a sentence, it’s almost like he's trying to distance himself from each woman.”

Penelope scoffed, “Well if I had a soul and I was manipulating these women anyway, I’d do the same.”

I try not to laugh, but a small snicker slipped through anyways.  It was going to be fun sitting next to this sass every day.

I look back at the screen like before, but this time something sticks out.  My eyes narrow as I tap a few keys to zoom in on each woman's ear.  It can’t be, it’s probably a reach.  “Is it just me, or do all these women have double piercings on their ears?  That’s probably a coincidence, right?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.  I didn’t want my voice to show I wasn’t confident in my findings.

Spencer looks over at my screen before shaking his head “No… that actually makes sense…”  His voice trails off like he was still thinking.  Then he stood up straight to continue “Actually that could be huge for the profile.  There’s a fetish called Piquerism.  Essentially it’s when someone feels aroused by piercing another.  Most commonly by stabbing or slashing, but it can occur when the person has a simple ear piercing.”

“Ew.” Penelope shudders.

I was still reeling from the way Spencer spit out that information like it was common knowledge.  He almost seemed proud of himself for having that in his back pocket.

He clearly didn’t pick up on the creeped out looks on Penelope and I’s face because he continued like nothing happened “Penelope, can you let the team know?”

She shuddered one more time before nodding.  

I was too much in my head to pay attention to her calling the team.  This was my new reality.  Dealing with potential creeps like this was now my usual.  I knew it was going to be hard sitting in front of these screens every day and looking at the horrors that dance across them, but now that I was here, I was afraid nightmares were going to find me in my sleep every night.  How did these people do it?  Maybe I don’t have the stomach for this.  

I glanced over at the numerous toys on Penelope’s side of the desk and the dark cloud that was forming over my head started to break up to let light in.   The bright colors drowning out the darkness.  

“That was- um… A good catch Beven.” Spencer stuttered quietly enough that the call didn’t pick up his voice.

I look up to see him smiling softly.  Even though those words seemed shaky, they gave me a surge of confidence.  Hearing I did something good from someone as smart as him made me want to give myself a pat on the back.  My lips curl into a smile.

I already considered Penelope a friend, but it seemed like I can add Dr. Spencer Reid to that list.  Leading up to today I was so nervous how the team would perceive me, wheelchair and all.  I was lucky for most of my life I was surrounded by people who didn’t see me as different.  My parents, my family, and my friends never made me feel like I was less than.  The professional scene always seemed a little daunting though.  I knew what it looked like to any bystander, she can barely lift her arms, how is she supposed to be anything else than the greeter at Walmart?  I get it, honestly I would probably say the same thing if I was them.  Regardless, I knew I had more in me, and I was grateful everyone here saw what I could do, not what I can’t.

“Bevan, can you come with a list of tattoo parlors that also provide piercings in the general area of the abductions?” Hotch’s voice catches my attention through the call system “We’re gonna split up and find out who frequents the most.”

I quickly nodded, giving a “Yes sir.” Before he assigns Penelope a cross checking assignment. 

My fingers tap away, narrowing down a list of parlors that aren’t close to the abduction sights.  After a minute, I relay the list to Hotch, followed by him thanking me.  

Penelope hangs up before giving me a high 5 “Good work Newbie.  Someday you might be as fast as yours truly.” She jokes while resting her chin on her hands.

I snicker and shake my head “I appreciate that, but I watch you type and I don’t think I could ever get there.”

“Hm…” Penelope smirks before turning back to her computer screens “You're smart too, Newbie.  I am the best.”

Now Spencer and I laugh.

[injestedsoap]

Taking The 141 to Build A Bear

Gaz was actually the one who planned it, there was a new wave of characters coming out and he had kept an eye on your local store to make sure they would have the ones you both wanted. He does his best to play it cool when the two of you arrive but you can tell he's just as excited as you, rushing over to pick out his character. Gaz is also all in on the heart ceremony but the employee can tell you're, you know, adults, so she doesn't have you do anything too crazy (i.e. jumping or spinning). As far as clothes go you better believe he is spoiling your plushie as much as he is spoiling you, pick any outfit and accessory you want, baby, on him! Of course you're getting the cardboard houses to carry them out in and you're getting snacks at whatever coffee or juice bar is closest to the workshop afterward.

The funny thing is with Soap neither of you actually planned it. You had gone out shopping for something else and just noticed there was a Build A Bear near by and when you mentioned wanting to go Soap was all in. Soap grew up in a good family but not a well off one so BAB wasn't something he ever did. This isn't exactly healing an inner child for him but oh boy does his inner child come out for this to the point where you are almost having more fun watching him light up doing all of this than making the plushie. The heart ceremony has jumping, spinning, the works and when it's time for him to dress his plushie he makes sure you both have a few outfit specifically so you can get matching outfits and individual ones.

You are the one who asks Price to go and he'll never deny you something this bloody adorable. He keeps insisting he isn't going to get anything but when the two of you get there... well... you didn't tell him they had Pokemon. He ends up grinning ear to ear as he gets his plushie stuffed. He doesn't get any clothes for his (Pokemon don't need clothes, love) but he is more than happy to get an outfit for your plushie. He is grinning enormously when he gets to fill out the birth certificate and you see him almost jump when they give him a Pokemon card along with his new friend.

Taking Ghost to Build A Bear is a long elaborate secret plan that you have been working on for at least a month. You are positive this is going to be good for him because if anyone needs a relaxed activity that encourages play it is your big British boy. When you finally steer him through the colorful doorway you watch him tense and then start to melt under your hands as you pull him over so you can pick a plushie, and of course he has to pick one too, you can't do this alone! You watch him carefully pick a plushie, the texture is important, and you hold his hand as you get them stuffed. Ghost is shy for the heart ceremony but you can tell that he's having fun, rolling his eyes at you when you tell him to make a wish. He finds a simple outfit for his bear that he painstakingly dresses them in and your hear melts over how seriously he takes naming them ("It's their name, I want to make sure it fits"). By the time you leave you don't think you've ever had more fun at a Build A Bear.