#somebody get this boy some brown contacts for the love of GOD

[genitalkenobi]

no one:

Frodo throughout the entirety of the LOTR trilogy:

[disgruntledspacedad]

The Rules of Engagement (1/5)

part one of the The Better Love Series 

pairing: Javier Peña x fem reader

summary: (slow-burn, sexual tension, angst, a little bit of h/c in later chapters) He’s a DEA agent. You work for Centra Spike. Peña’s not your boss, exactly, but you’ve been fwb long enough that certain people are starting to think of you as An Item, and that just won’t do. 

words: 6.3k 

warnings: 18+ - drugs, violence, language, alcohol, eventual smut. 

a/n: at the end. @tiffdawg​, I finally did it.

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five

MASTERLIST

Your alarm buzzes, and you roll over groggily. 

0615.

Goddamn. You flop a pillow over your head, blocking out the early morning sun, and wonder if three hours of sleep is any better than no sleep at all. 

Somehow, you kind of doubt it. 

The alarm blares again, a failsafe you’d been wise enough to set up after round two had led you to the shower. You gather your still-damp hair, wincing at how gross that feels, and elbow Peña in the shoulder. 

“Morning, sunshine!” You toss your soggy pillow onto his face. 

He grunts pathetically, cracks an eye just enough to send you a sliver of resentment, and lifts a middle finger vaguely in your direction. 

You’re completely unsympathetic. “Not my fault this time, Peña.” 

He curses you in Spanish as you flick on the lights on your way to the kitchen. Coffee is your first order of business. 

You’re not sure exactly when Agent Peña became a fixture in your apartment.  Oh, you can nail down the general timeline pretty well - a night out with the Search Bloc boys had ended with Peña coming to your place, and things had unfolded naturally from there. The sex was good. Very good. You’ve always had a high drive, and Peña is a man who can deliver. You’re pretty creative, and he’s fairly open minded, and neither of you seem to care to make things complicated with Labels and Conversations. Somewhere down the line, wild nights out evolved into even wilder nights in, and then, before you knew it, you’d let Peña borrow your spare key when he’d left his wallet on your coffee table. 

That had been at least two months ago. The sex is still good, and Peña is still leaving his shit everywhere, so neither of you bothered to say anything about it. 

It works. That’s all that matters.

You’ve just sat down with your drink in your hands as the doorbell buzzes. “What the fuck?” You glance at the kitchen clock. It’s not even 0630.

The doorbell buzzes again. 

You eyeball the gun that Peña has left lying on the kitchen counter. Nobody should be looking for you this early in the morning. 

“Hey!” Somebody is knocking now, and shouting, and ugh, you recognize that voice. You leave the gun where it is - somewhat reluctantly - and slam open the door with a ferocity that sends Steve Murphy stumbling into your kitchen. 

“Good morning,” you say serenely. 

“Good morning to you, too, Ears,” Murphy grimaces up at you. 

“That’s not my name,” you remind him for the thousandth time. Not that it will make any difference. Ever since you’d made the mistake of introducing yourself as Centra Spike’s new liaison by saying, “I’ll be your ears,” the Search Bloc boys had leapt at the opportunity to tease. You’re pretty sure most of them don’t realize that you have any other name. 

Somehow, it irks you more coming from Murphy. 

“What are you doing here?” you ask as politely as your temper allows. Murphy has never been your favorite person, and your caffeine definitely hasn’t kicked in yet.

Murphy rights himself, fixing you with a glare that doesn’t threaten in the slightest. “I’m looking for Javi,” he says. He has the audacity to glance around your tiny living space, as if he’d come with a search warrant.

You fold your arms across your chest, suddenly aware of your too-thin nightshirt, and lift a brow in Murphy’s direction. “And what makes you think he’d be here?”

Murphy pins you with an ‘I see right through your bullshit’ expression. “Call it a hunch.” 

Right on cue, footsteps clatter down the kitchen stairs. Murphy smirks. You don’t bother to hide a sigh. 

Fuck. 

“What are you doing here?” Peña echoes you unconsciously. You try not to cringe at the smug glance Murphy throws your way.

 Instead, you turn to glare at Javi, and oh god. 

His shirt is buttoned all wrong, hanging lopsided and displaying half his chest, if he’d just given up at the top. 

Subtle.

Murphy apparently doesn’t have the stones to address it, because he waves a manilla folder in front of Peña’s face. “Special delivery,” he says, dropping the file on your coffee table with a smack. 

Peña dives for it, brow furrowed. Whatever he sees must be good, because he snaps his head up to stare at Murphy. “Where did you get these?” he asks, thumbing through the pages.

“My contact in Medellín.” Steve rests his hands on his belt ever so casually, as if daring Peña to question him. 

Peña does. “Since when do you have a contact in Medellín?” 

You wonder the same. Partners are usually aware of each other’s informants, unless it’s that kind of contact. Isn’t Murphy married?

“Not important.” Murphy shuts him down quickly. 

“Verdugo,” Peña breathes.

You shoot a questioning glance at Murphy.  In the three months you’ve been in Colombia, your Spanish is rapidly improving, but Murphy has been here longer, and some things are still beyond you. “Butcher,” he translates with a grimace. “Or executioner. One of Escobar’s top sicarios.”

You wrinkle your nose. “Lovely.”

Peña glances up, surprised to hear you speak, as if he’d forgotten that he’s standing in your living room.

Murphy doesn’t acknowledge you. “He’s in Medellín, Javi.” He stretches, then makes for your front door. “I’m gonna turn in for a bit. Late night.” 

Peña grunts, settling on your sofa with the file as Murphy sees himself out. 

You sidle up behind him, curious.  He knows you’re there - your hair is falling over his shoulder and you’re doing nothing to stifle your breathing, but Peña’s only acknowledgement of your presence is to shift his body ever so slightly to the left, unspokenly granting you access to the file.

You bite your lip, pleased and a little unnerved at the implication. You suppose that Peña wouldn’t be Peña unless he’s breaking the rules. He certainly has a reputation for it.

It hits a little differently, though, knowing that he’s committing a felony just to satisfy your curiosity. And on your fucking sofa, too.

You shake the butterflies away. Peña is flipping through a series of grainy photos, each showcasing the same guy. Somebody, Murphy probably, has circled his face in red ink, and there are further notes in the margins, written hastily. Landmarks, you guess. Peña is reading too fast for you to decipher much, but you spot a map of what you assume is Medellín in the shuffle. It is similarly annotated with scrawling red ink.

Peña flips through the file once, and then again, slower. 

You brace yourself on on your forearms, glancing at the clock. You aren’t expected at the embassy until eight - you can afford to be patient. 

Whatever this is, it’s big.

Deciding you’ve gleaned all you can from the file, you turn your attention to Peña. He’s leaned forward on your sofa, arms on thighs, lost in thought. Every muscle is tensed, as if he could spring up at any moment, his gaze is narrowed, his brow furrowed in a way that tempts you to lick it. 

The thought startles you. You aren’t a goddamn animal.

Are you? Your mind drifts to Murphy, smirking with his arms folded in your kitchen like he could see through your nightshirt, right into your fucking brain. 

A stone sinks in your chest. Landing this position with Centra Spike had been your first big break in a lifetime of frustrations. You’d joined the army fresh out of school, angling to be an analyst with the special forces. The good ol’ U. S. of A. had gladly foot the bill for your education in exchange for you signing your life away, and you’d chugged through a mind-numbingly boring double major of mathematics and computer science, all on the sage advice of your recruiter. 

The reality of active duty was a kick in the fucking teeth. The brass had taken one look at you - a wide-eyed, idealistic woman with a big hair and bigger goals - and promptly slapped you with a desk job. You’d spent three more years rotting away in a forgotten back corner of an office building in Kuwait, filing reports and delivering messages. Occasionally, they’d throw you a bone and hand you a code to rewrite. Your commanding officer got all the credit, and you were just a glorified secretary.

By the time your contract was up, you’d been sidelined, interrupted, passed-over, underestimated, scoffed, and just flat-out ignored enough to be thoroughly fed up with military life. The glass ceiling in the U.S. Army is raised just high enough to suffocate its victims slowly, and you were sick sick of being stifled. 

Being recruited by the CIA for analyst work in the hunt for Pablo Escobar had been pure, dumb luck. Right now, you might just be a liaison, but this is your shot. Your last one, probably, and you’re not willing to give it up just to get laid.

Not even for the best lay of your life.

Peña slaps the file shut with gentle smack, startling you from your thoughts. He reaches for his boots, moving with a single-minded determination that you’d find sexy if it weren’t so damned inconvenient.

“Peña.”

He doesn’t react, just gathers his badge and keys from the end table as if you aren’t even there.

“Peña.” You say it louder this time.

“Hmm?” 

“Javi!” You call his name without even realizing it, and it works. His head snaps up, eyes wide, staring at you as if he’s just now seen you for the first time.

You have his undivided attention now. 

“Yeah?” He blinks, all wide brown eyes, and fuck it all, you can feel yourself flushing under his gaze. 

You swallow hard, push past the strange flutter in your chest. “We’re getting too predicable.” 

His brow furrows. “Come again?”

You decide to take the high road, but you can’t stop your lips twitching at the obvious joke that he’s left himself open for. He’s quick to follow your though process, though - his eyes sparkle with laugher, daring you to call him on his blunder. 

Shit.

You press on. “This,” you start, grimacing. He’s still looking at you, and his expression is warm. Flirtatious. “What we’re doing…” Goddamn, your face is aflame. “I mean, we’re not exactly subtle.”

He draws back, expression shuttering instantly. “Don’t worry about Murphy,” he says firmly. “He’ll keep his mouth shut.”

The ‘if he knows what’s good for him’ is clearly implied.

“It’s not just Murphy,” you press. You can’t exactly put into words what it is that you're trying to make Peña understand, you just know it's important that he does.

“What are you suggesting?” He’s standing now, still holding the file against his chest, as if to defend himself with it. 

You shake your head. “I think,” you say slowly, trying hard not to catch his eye, “that we need to cool it.”

Silence. You can feel his raised eyebrow.

You step forward. You’re focusing hard on finding the right words without revealing too much, but your hands are desperate for something to do. “We need to stop fucking around.”

There, you said it.

“Oh?” There’s something amused in his tone, but you shrug it off, still refusing to look at him.

“Yeah,” you answer hotly. “Isn’t this fraternization? Shouldn’t we be worried about our careers, or some shit? We both have a lot to lose here.” You glance up, emboldened by your speech. “Do you want to catch Escobar or not?”

He’s looking down at you, not taking you the least bit seriously, expression damn near indulgent. 

Indignation sets a fire in your chest.

“You think you can just quit me, cold turkey,” he asks in a voice as smooth as silk.

Goddammit, he’s mocking you.

“Absolutely.” You look him firmly in the eye, former awkwardness forgotten, more determined than you’ve ever been. 

He huffs directly in your face. “You won’t last a week, Ears.” He cups your cheek in his hand, skimming your jawline with his thumb. “I know you, remember.”

Oh, the bastard. “You think you can go longer?” You counter, stepping into his chest. You’re pissed now. Peña is a well-known man whore, and you know, know, that you are exactly his type.

He laughs now, openly and genuinely amused. “Longer than you,” he says, glancing down at where your hands are absently fiddling with the buttons of his shirt. 

Oh, fuck. 

“I’m fixing you, you absolute asshole,” you hiss, beyond grateful that you’ve yet to undo his last cockeyed button. “Unless you want to show up at the office all freshly fucked and lopsided.” You hold up the hem of his shirt, clearly displaying his mismatched edges.

“Oh.” At least he has the grace to look abashed. 

“Yeah,” you swallow dryly, suddenly aware of how close he his, smelling of coffee and cigarettes, sex and the scent of your own bedsheets. 

Goddamn, you want him already. 

You push it all away, patting him condescendingly on the chest. Two can play this game. “Just looking out for your career, Agent Peña.”

He sighs somewhat theatrically, but you can see the conflict warring in him. 

“Well, then, Ears,” he says after a long moment. He rebuttons his shirt properly this time, fingers working quickly. “Guess I’ll see you around.” 

You meet his gaze evenly. “Guess so.”

The door shuts behind him, and you sink to the sofa. It’s still warm from where he’d been sitting.

Oh fuck, what have you done?

♠

You’re not watching, you’re not, but you can’t help but notice when Peña comes swaggering into the office at ten am, wearing those sunglasses and those fucking too-tight, dark wash jeans, chugging a cup of coffee like he knows that his exposed neck is a weapon. 

You make eye contact through the glass, just for a moment, and he winks at you.

You smirk back, a plan forming in your mind.

This means war. 

♠

You retaliate by letting your hair curl wild over your shoulders and squeezing yourself into a leather skirt that is just barely work appropriate. The Search Bloc boys bombard you with whistles and winks and catcalls all day. 

It’s worth it, though, to see Agent Peña’s eyes go wide and blinking, to watch him swallow so hard. 

“Fucking tease,” Murphy hisses as you glide past his desk. 

You flip him off in response. 

♠

Your apartment feels strangely empty. 

It’s Saturday afternoon. Search Bloc is investigating a tip in Medellín, and Centra Spike doesn’t need you in today. You briefly consider going out, but that would involve changing out of your sweats, and besides, aside from the Search Bloc guys, you really don’t have many friends in Colombia. 

You sit down on your sofa, drawing the coffee table toward you, and deal yourself a hand of solitaire. The cards had belonged to your dad before he passed them down to you, and they are comfortable in your hand, worn soft with age. There’s a trick to shuffling a deck this old, and something comfortable in the practice. 

The hand you deal is a losing hand. 

Frustrated, you stomp down the stairs to the little pharmacy below your flat. “Hola, Emilio!” you wave to the older man working the counter. Emilio doesn’t speak much English, and your Spanish is improving slower than you’d like, but you mostly manage to communicate just fine. 

You make your way to the little display of liquor bottles and ponder it for a minute. There’s nothing remotely recognizable on the shelves, but you’re not exactly committed to buying anything, anyway. 

There’s nothing more pathetic than drinking alone. 

 A presence at your shoulder makes you jump. It’s just Emilio. He smiles at you, and reaches for a bottle of clear liquor whose packaging reminds you a little too much of antiseptic hand spray for comfort. He presses it into your hands. “Guaro.”

“This is what I need, then?” you ask him. “Este? It’s good?”

“Guaro.” He’s nodding and grinning, rattling something in rapid-fire Spanish that you’re far too slow to translate. The enthusiasm behind it is hard to miss, though.

“He says it’s good and strong. Respect it, and it will respect you.” Emilo’s daughter winks up at you. She’s bent over, stocking shelves, and you’d missed her, distracted as you’d been by your conversation with Emilio.

You smile gratefully. Ana must be home from university this weekend. You’ve only met once or twice, but she’s kind, and doesn’t mind translating for you. You think you might have been friends, if she was around more.

“Gracias,” you tell her, and mean it. “Aguardiente,” you sound out slowly, frowning down at the bottle. “Sugar water?”

“Something like that.” Ana rises, leaving the box of chicharrones on the floor. “You’ll find that most of the locals just call it guaro. It’s a staple in Colombia. Hard to find anywhere else, and even transporting it between cities is dangerous.” She rolls her eyes and shrugs, as if to say, ‘what’s new?’ 

“But it’s just liquor, right?” 

“Yeah, I think so. Alcohol, sugar, anise…” She shrugs, and laughs. “Simple, but there’s something magic about it. You don’t want to go too hard with this. Sit down and have a small glass with a lime. Slower is better.” 

You frown. Anise. It jogs something in your memory, some long-forgotten fact…

“Trust me.” Ana is at your elbow now, pinning you with an earnest stare. “It hits hard, and fast. Papa wasn’t lying.”

You laugh. “Is that the college experience speaking?”

“Oh, yes. Seguro.” 

Ana follows you as you take the bottle of guaro to the register. “And how are your classes going?” you ask as Emilio rings you up. 

Ana grimaces, shaking her head as she cuts her gaze to Emilio. “It’s good to have a little break,” she admits. 

You sympathize with that. You hadn’t cared too much for the tedium of higher education either. Emilio hands you a little paper bag, and you wave goodbye to him with a smile. “I’ll have to catch you when you’ve got a free weekend,” you tell Ana as you head toward the stairs that lead to your flat. You hold up the liquor suggestively. “You can teach me all about how to respect this guaro.”

Ana laughs. “What are you doing this evening? We close up at eight.”

Your face breaks into a grin. It’s hard making friends in Colombia just with the language barrier alone, never mind that your work with Centra Spike forces you to keep so many secrets. Without Peña around, life here is lonely. But Ana seems innocent enough, and it’s just a drink. “Perfect! I’ll be here.”

You walk up the steps feeling much lighter than when you descended them.

♠

Ana doesn’t stay long. She looks around your apartment, carefully assessing, then nodding as if satisfied. 

You let it go.

She teaches you to tap the bottom of the bottle to expel the liquor, almost as if you’re pouring ketchup from a glass container. Looking at the contents, they don’t seem particularly viscous. When you ask her why this is necessary, Ana shrugs.  “It’s a mystery,” she tells you, and you write it off as one of the eccentricities of Colombian culture, paying rapt attention as Ana begins explaining one of only three acceptable ways to serve the guaro.  

♠

“I’ve got something for you,” you announce brightly, slapping both hands firmly on Javier Peña’s desk and leaning in just a hair too close to be strictly professional. 

“Oh?” His face breaks into a slow smirk, and he tilts back in his swivel chair, stretching just enough to give you a good view of those too-tight jeans as he hooks his fingers behind his head. “And what’s that?”

Smug fucking bastard knows exactly what he’s doing. You cool your jets and wink at him, teasing a manilla file for him to see. “We thought you might like this.”

“We?”

“Okay, fine, Jacoby caught some chatter, but I vetted it,” you press on, refusing to let him derail you. This is huge. “It’s Verdugo.”

Peña glances up at you, suddenly intense. “You sure?”

“Well, it’s not him personally,” you admit. “At least, not his voice. But,” You slam the transcript down on his desk. “We caught an entire conversation verifying his presence at a safehouse in Medellín.” You pause for full dramatic effect before going in for the kill. “A specific safehouse in Medellín.”

Javi reverts to Agent Peña instantly, all flirting forgotten as he leans forward on his elbows. “Show me.”

You bend over, noticing absently that your hair is once again falling into his face as you tap your finger over the address. Peña settles in to read the full report as you watch, his eyes darting back and forth over the pages at a rate that is truly impressive. When he glances back up at you, the ferocity of his gaze is startling. 

“They’re getting ready to make a move.” There’s something like a spark of hope in his eyes, tiny, but growing stronger as he processes the information you’ve given him.

“Yeah,” you say, throat suddenly dry. He’s looking at you with earnest gratitude, and it tugs at something deep in your chest.

“This is big,” he breathes, and just like that, he’s on his feet, gathering the file, punching a number into his desktop telephone. 

“This is Peña,” he says as the call connects. “We’ve got something.”

♠

It’s dark when you finally get home. Claudia Messina, head of DEA operations in Colombia, had cornered you in her office for hours, going over and over the information you’d vetted. You brain is absolutely fried, the victory of the discovery stifled by having to defend your work again and again. 

You just need a drink. 

“About time!” a voice startles you as you turn to shut the door behind you. You jump, barely suppressing a shriek, and whirl around. 

Goddamn Javier Peña with his goddamned spare key.

He’s smirking at you from your sofa, cigarette dangling from his fingers. Any other day, you’d have noticed his presence instantly just from the smell. 

“What the fuck?” Your voice is more of a whine than you’d like, but dammit, you’re tired, and dammit, he’s gotten one over on you. 

He knows it, too, the smug bastard. “Expecting somebody else?” he asks, sauntering toward you with a devastating smile that manages to be both possessive and suggestive all at once. 

“No,” you answer somewhat grumpily. “I wasn’t expecting anybody.”

Given your sulky attitude, you’re surprised to see that his smile brightens a bit. You frown at him, still confused as to why the fuck he is here, and he bustles into the kitchen, clinking around, pouring you a drink. 

You sigh and relax onto the sofa. At least you’ll have that.

He comes back, a tumbler of clear liquor in each hand. Ah, so he’s found your guaro. You suspect that he’s helped himself to at least one measure already. He hands you a glass, and you take it gratefully, sniffing at the contents. 

He’s drinking it neat, apparently.

“So!” he says, settling beside you on the sofa, close enough that your thighs touch. He pins you with an intense stare. You raise a brow in response, intrigued and a little confused. 

He smiles. “Your tip from this morning was a gold mine, Ears.” He eases back, propping his feet on your coffee table in a way that you should probably reprimand him for. He sips, sighs, leans in to bump your shoulder playfully, then settles with his hands at his waist, long fingers fiddling with the glass he’s cradling. “Martinez wants us to go for Verdugo tomorrow,” he tells you, suddenly serious. “Based on your information.” 

“Really?” You can hardly believe it. Most of what you do is verify things that others have found, or carry files from Centra Spike to Search Bloc. Same old, same old. Even though you’ve trained for this for years, you’ve never been integral in interpreting and locating a conversation before, especially not for a target as high level as Verdugo. 

Javi twists to smile up at you, a real smile. “Really,” he says, pointing a finger in your direction. He watches you fight back a grin. “Go on, be smug. This is big.”

“Wow,” you mouth, somewhat awed that you’ve contributed anything, let alone this, to the hunt for Pablo Escobar. 

The reaction isn’t lost on Javi. He sits up, wraps his arms around your shoulders and squeezes gently. “Pretty much. You gave us enough information that we feel confident about initiating a sting in Medellín.” He reaches up with both hands, catching your face at the edge of your jaw and drawing you close. “We couldn’t have done it without you, Ears.”

Ears. Yours are burning at the heat of his touch. You’re acutely aware of his palms cupping your cheeks. His eyes are dark, too dark, and open, looking at you as if you’ve single handled handed Escobar to the DEA on a golden platter. 

You suppress a shudder, leaning in to him as he pulls you in for a hug. Christ, his body feels so good as it cradles yours, arms snaking around your back, stubble gritting awkwardly into your cheek, the scent of smoke and liquor clouding you -

You wonder, abruptly, how much he’s had to drink.

“Peña,” you say swiftly, pulling away from him to stand. The way he’s looking at you right now, giddy and awestruck and openly hungry, well, it’s not going to last. You know it won’t. It can’t. 

His face falls, as if he’s confused at your sudden rejection. 

You shake your head. Peña is just drunk. You guys aren’t like this. You don’t hug and share and hold each other. It was only ever sex, and it’s not even that anymore. 

You’re overwhelmed, suddenly and without warning, at how desperately you want him. 

Not just the sex, though honestly, you have missed that. No, what you want is - 

You shove that thought down, locking it away so deeply that it will never see the light of day. 

You cannot have feelings for Javier Peña. 

“Ears?” he questions, tilting his head just so, managing to look more sober than he has all evening. 

“I just need another drink,” you say as you sidestep him, making your way to the kitchen. You watch him from the corner of your eyes as his gaze follows you. He seems to take your deference at face value - he’s lighter than you’ve seen him in weeks, excited, almost chipper, if you can believe it. The meeting with Martinez must have gone very well. You snort, contrasting his meeting to yours with Messina. The dissonance is enough to wonder, offhandedly, if some not-so-subtle sexism is at play. 

You shake off that thought. It’s not helpful, just depressing, especially here in Colombia. Instead, you turn to look at Javi. 

He’s still flopped on your sofa, his original drink in his hand, hunched over the stack of playing cards that you’d left out last night. 

Your dad had taught you to play solitaire from a young age. There’s a variation for two players, a game which one will inevitably win, but the real challenge is for the single player, in which triumph relies equally on skill and luck. Last night, after Ana had left, you’d played a long, brutal game, ultimately finding yourself blocked, helpless to do anything but shuffle the deck over, and over, and over again. 

Losing two games in a row is just shameful, and you’d left the cards on the table, eager to look at them again with fresh eyes. 

Javi eyeballs the game with a furrowed brow. You’d managed to make it quite far. Had the cards fallen in any different order, you’d have won easily. Carefully, Javi flicks over one card from the stack, frowns, then another. This one is a red queen, and he plays it eagerly, shuffling the black jack to its new position and opening up another space. 

“Hey!” you protest. He glances up at you, bemused, and you shove a newly made drink into his hand as you settle beside him. 

“You missed that move,” he explains, pointing exaggeratedly with the pinky finger that holds the tumbler. 

You roll your eyes. “I play draw three,” you correct him. You reshuffle the cards to their original places, this time drawing three from the deck: a five of spades on top, Javi’s red queen in the middle, and the ace of spades below both. The top card, the five of spades, has no place to be played, so you flip all three cards into the discard pile and draw three more from the deck. 

Javi frowns. “Seems like you’re making it a lot harder than it has to be.”

You sigh. Men. “Single draw solitaire is for kids,” you counter with a vicious smile. “Just for them to learn to play the game. Real players draw three.”

He huffs, “Oh, really?” he’s smirking up at you, eyes sparkling in amusement. “Are you the kind of woman who likes a challenge, Ears?”

He’s just dying to prove you wrong. 

“I’m the kind of woman who refuses to cut corners just so I can win a dumb card game.” you inform him sagely.  

“Hmmm,” he says, staring contemplatively at the cards. You let him shuffle through the deck twice, each time verifying what you already know - the game, played as it is, is unbeatable. 

‘Seems a little silly to me,’  he teases, bopping you on the nose. “Letting your ego get in the way of winning.”

Of course Javier Peña would see it that way. You kick back, letting your feet settle at the edge of the coffee table. “Go on then,” you tell him, siping at your drink. “Swoop in and save my game with your kiddie version, you fucking hero.”

He laughs overtly at that, eyes sparkling, and something clenches hard in your chest. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him so open, laughing and flirting and playing stupid games after a long day at work. 

It’s nice.

You settle in to watch him work his magic. He’s making plays at an alarming rate - it seems like no time at all before the deck is empty. 

You glance at the clock, biting back a sigh. Less than five minutes. 

He’s smirking up at you, all mussed and smug, eyes alight with warmth, and suddenly, something swoops dangerously in your belly.

That hair, those eyes, his laugh. Warm skin in the dim glow of the lamplight, his body sprawled over your sofa, just begging to be teased. 

You wonder again why he’s here. You’ve made it clear that there’s no more sex, so…

Oh, god. 

Glancing back down at him, tousled hair and crooked smile, ridiculous mustache, plopped indelicately on your sofa, you suddenly realize. 

Javier Peña had sought you out for your company. For no other reason than that he’d had a good day, and wanted to share it with you. 

And oh, oh god.

You’re still so caught up in the sex and your fucking feelings that you can’t divorce that from your friendship, which is obviously important to him. He’s not out celebrating with Murphy - he’s here, in your apartment, with no expectation other than to kick your ass by cheating at children’s card games. 

The realization takes the breath from your lungs. 

You’re the problem here. Just like with the fucking card game, you’re the one making it complicated. 

Javi needs a friend. 

Javi needs a friend, and he’d sought you out so that you can just chill together, and all you can think as he shuffles those damned cards is how the callouses of his fingers would catch deliciously against your clit as he dips them inside you. 

And, and…

You cut off that dark thought. You are not going there.

Jesus Christ, what kind of friend are you?

“Well, this calls for a celebration,” you say. It’s a beat too late and obviously hollow, but Javi doesn’t seem to notice, and you’ve managed to keep the tremor out of your voice, so that’s a win. You rise, making for the kitchen, desperate to do something with your hands. You find yourself pouring Javi yet another drink - is this his third? Or fourth? You aren’t sure - and making yourself a second, much lighter version. 

The last thing you want is to do something stupid.

Javi meets you at the kitchen bar, and you slide the tumbler across to him. He eyeballs it speculatively, raising it and tilting it to view the contents in the dim kitchen light. 

“Goddamn, Ears.” He snorts. “Are you trying to poison me?” 

The denial falls from your tongue as he tilts back his glass from earlier, his second, - or third? - the one that you’d made. He swallows, pushing the empty glass back into you hand, and stands, catching himself on the edge of the table as if he’d moved too fast.

“Alright?” you ask.

He takes a deep breath, then straightens, slowly letting go of the countertop. “Fine,” he says, cocking a brow at you. “But what is that stuff?”

You laugh. “Emilio, you know, from downstairs, he found it for me. Says it’s a Colombian staple, and I can’t leave without having a bottle at least once.”

Javi blinks one too many times, then giggles. Despite your best effort, you snort at the sound. "Well then,” he raises his full tumblr to your half full one, and they clink awkwardly. “To local rotgut and poor life choices,” he toasts, as solemnly as he as able.

“Salud!” you counter, managing to sound a just a hair more sober. Javi is swaying as he stands, and suddenly, you’re concerned. “When did you last eat?”

He glances at you, tilting his head as if your question makes no goddamn sense, and you sigh heavily. Idiot man.

“Okay, hold off on that one,” you warn him - he looks as if he’s about to toss it back, too. “Let me at least make you some eggs first.”

“Eggs?” 

You’re already bustling around your tiny kitchen, pulling a pan from below the stove. “Yeah, moron,” you tell him, unable to stop the grin that catches your lips. “Eggs and salsa. Best food for staving off a hangover that I’ve found so far.”

Javi throws back the rest of his drink anyway, then comes to press his body to your side. “Is that a fact?”

“It’s a fucking science,” you counter, unable to resist slamming your hips into his to nudge him out of the way as you reach into the fridge for the butter. 

He wraps his arms around your shoulders, sinking his face into the crook of your neck. “How can I be of assistance?” he purrs into your ear, and suddenly, it’s very, very hard to concentrate on cooking. 

“Sit. Down.” You hiss, slapping his butt with a dishtowel. He yowls more than strictly necessary, the drama queen; you’re an excellent towel-popper, but it shouldn’t hurt that much. 

Still, you rub his ass in compensation, matching his lecherous grin when he fixes it on you. “Have a seat,” you tell him again, kicking a barstool vaguely in his direction. “And watch the magic.”

♠

Javi cleans his plate enthusiastically. “So what’s the secret?” he asks, mouth full, still staring up at you like your shitty scrambled eggs are the best meal he’s ever eaten.

You snort. “No secret, Peña.” You hold up your stick of butter, much lighter than it’d been before, and toss it back into the fridge. “You literally just watched me cook them.”

He grins loopily.

You shake your head, biting back your own smile. How could a man as competent and independent as Javier Peña forget to do something as basic as eat? 

Well, it hardly matters. Even with the food you’ve made, he’s going to have a massive hangover in the morning. Ana had cautioned you several times to go easy on the guaro, and you trust her judgement. Emilio’s shit, in particular, is cheap, potent, and deadly. 

Well, he’ll pay for it tomorrow. You shake you head, watching him bumble around the kitchen and drop his dirty plate in the sink. Javi stands at your side, warm and solid as you draw just enough water to let the dishes soak. 

He reaches for your dish soap, and you stop him with a hand on his arm. Javi glances down at you, still a little drunkenly, but his eyes are warm, his lips parted just slightly, and you pull away from him as if burned.

“I’ll get them in the morning,” you manage hoarsely.

He shrugs, brushes your shoulder with his hand as he bumbles away, and you take a moment to lean against the sink and calm your racing heart. 

God, what is with you lately?

Javi has already crashed on your sofa, shoes kicked off, legs sprawled, grinning lazily in your direction. 

You manage not to oogle at him, but it’s a near thing.

Instead, you flop down on his opposite side, allowing your legs to tangle in the middle.

He makes a big show of yawning, tilting his wrist up to glance at his watch. You crane your neck to look at the kitchen clock. It’s only 10:33, but you’re both feeling a little lit - Javi more than you, thankfully - and you both have a big day tomorrow. 

You sigh, reaching down to collect the empty glasses and discarded playing cards, slipping Javi’s keys in your back pocket while he’s not looking.

He scoffs.

Oh. You whirl, realizing he’d been watching you all along. 

“So, am I staying over, Ears?” He grins up at you, a little tired, but still in an excellent mood. 

“You are definitely staying over, Peña,” you tell him firmly, trying not to laugh at the wounded puppy expression on his face as he reacts to your tone. His eyes have gone so wide, pout so pathetic that you can’t help but grin, even as you toss a throw pillow haphazardly over his lap. 

That seems to get a rise out of him. He sits up, frowning at the pillow. “I’m on the sofa?” he whines. 

“Yup!’ you say happily, enjoying the power dynamic for what it is. Putting Javier Peña in your bed tonight would lead straight to…

Well, you’re both drunk, and even if you weren’t, you’re not willing to give up on your bet. Not with the nasty realization that you’d had tonight, for sure. 

Javi must follow your thoughts, because he sobers instantly. “Okay,” he says softly, settling back down and cramming the pillow beneath his shoulder.

You’re kind enough to tuck him in, which really just consists of dragging your comforter from you bed and draping it over his ass and shoulders. His boots are lying haphazardly on the floor - you decide to leave them for him to trip over in the morning - and you don’t bother to cover his feet, knowing that he sleeps with his socks outside of the blanket, the weirdo.

Just as you turn away, a single brown eye catches your gaze. He’d been watching you again.

The thought sends a tremor down your spine. “Need anything else?” you ask clinically, trying to ignore the urge to either kiss him, or scream. 

He huffs contentedly, rocking against the cushions like an animal sinking into a burrow. His eyes drift closed, and you can’t help but just notice how dark his lashes are against his cheek. “Can’t think of anything,” he murmurs, and you breathe a sigh of relief. 

“Okay. Good night,” you tell him, squeezing his shoulder as you pass by to turn out the lights.

“Night, babe.”

You choke. Well, maybe he won’t remember. 

Fat chance. He’s drunk, but he’s not wasted. You decide to raise him, because any other response from you will be awkward, forever.

“Good night, honey,” you answer sweetly as you flick off the light. 

In the darkness, you hear him snort.

♠

author’s notes/confessions: 

I have never written Javier Peña. I have never written in second person. I have never written decent smut. I speak no Spanish. Advice and criticisms, if delivered kindly, are very welcome. 

Yeah, I realize that I wrote Javi a little lighter/goofier here than he’s probably typically depicted. Hang tight, guys. He’s not taking this seriously yet, but he will be. Just wait. 

Guaro/Aguardiente a legit Colombian liquor, and I tried to depict it as accurately as possible for never having tried it. The anise thought that reader has is a reference to absinthe, which is a trip if you’ve ever managed to acquire the real deal (something that’s kind of difficult if you live in the States, unfortunately). Also, I’m unsure if you can just walk into a pharmacy and buy liquor in Colombia, but hey, just go with it. 

This started as a conversation with Tiff and turned into... well, this. I am so, so sorry. Expect about 20k and three chapters. Probably. 

Not beta’d. you get what you get, my friends. 

At the risk of sounding pathetic, your feedback absolutely inspires me to write faster. I don’t make the rules, guys. I just write.

This installment is (mostly) complete, but I’d love to hear what you like and what you don’t, and what you want to see next. My inbox is open. I welcome messages. I want to make friends.  

Love you guys big, and happy holidays to those of you who are celebrating!

[jisungsmochi]

just one night - njm

summary: getting wasted at a random party wasn’t on your agenda for your saturday night. but when your best friend’s brother tends to you for the night, one thing leads to another...and suddenly he couldn’t leave your mind. 

genre / warnings: highschool!au, best friend’s brother (oops), slightly suggestive (there is a section where sex is mentioned but it is not detailed at all lmaooo), fluffy, lil angst, i think that’s it ! 

word count: 10.2k (uMMM wow i didn’t expect it to be that long but pls enjoy) 

mini playlist: 

long story short - taylor swift 

love somebody like you - joan 

take me on - joan 

photograph - ed sheeran 

//

your ears were ringing from the intense blasting of the speakers at lee haechan’s monthly ragers. you didn’t know him too well, but your best friend, and platonic soulmate, jisoo, insisted you attend. you assumed it was because she had a growing crush on the party host, despite her constantly opposing the idea.

after taking your first shot of the night, something ignited in you. it had been a while since you let loose and enjoyed yourself. you often placed immense pressure on yourself in your studies, blocking out the outside world when you were in your element. jisoo cheered you on, clinking your shot glasses together as you both consumed the horrid liquid.

as the night rolled by, you had lost jisoo, assuming she was with haechan and the rest of his friends. you started to feel faint, your head whirling, eyes ready to completely shut. you felt yourself land harshly on the nearby couch, the group of teenagers who were seated on said couch, laughed hysterically at your state. you continued to moan and groan, your head pounding along with the beat of the song blasting through the speakers.

you could barely hear anything else, only a soft voice whispering to you,

“stay with me alright? i’ll take care of you”

the voice sounded familiar but you were far too drunk to even bother asking. you felt yourself being picked up, the figure now dragging you out of the house.

“gosh, you two are such a pain” the voice grumbles once again. your eyes started to flutter open, the blurred features of your best friend’s twin brother, jaemin, came into focus. he was visibly annoyed at the sight of you and your better half completely wasted. you noticed that you had been buckled up in the back of his car.

“good, you’re awake, now stay put until we’re home” jaemin sighed, closing the driver’s side door, starting the engine.

you didn’t remember much of the ride home, all you could hear was jisoo ranting about how haechan rejected her moves on him, and jaemin endlessly teasing her. 

you were able to stand briefly as you exited the car, but jisoo on the other hand was utterly hammered. you helped jaemin pull her out of the car and to her bedroom. luckily their parents were away for the weekend, meaning they didn’t have to witness their daughter vomit on her bedroom carpet.

“oh my god, how much did you drink?” jaemin was practically pulling at his own hair. although you were tipsy, you were able to comprehend the situation at hand. you immediately ran to her bathroom, pulling out some cleaning supplies.

“you clean this up while i clean her up for the night”

“fine whatever” the boy rolls his eyes, holding his nose as he begins to scrub the carpet. you made your way over to jisoo, sitting close to her, starting to wipe off her makeup. she had practically passed out by now, only the sounds of jaemin furiously scrubbing and jisoo’s soft snores filled the room. you and jaemin had never really talked while you were over at their house. being jisoo’s day one, you found yourself basically living in her room, yet you couldn’t remember a time you properly hung out or even spoke to jaemin. you looked over at him, his face distorting with disgust at his sister’s mess. it made you chuckle slightly as you finished wiping off her makeup.

“what’s so funny?” he grumbled, walking to the bathroom to dispose of the garbage.

“i guess seeing you clean up your sister’s vomit was something i’d never thought i’d see you do” you shrugged, avoiding his glare.

“oh really? if anything, you two owe me big time” jaemin shuffled over to you, towering over both you and jisoo. your breath hitched once you realised how close he was to you.

“w-why do i owe you?” you muttered, looking up at him.

“because i saved you from embarrassment when others were laughing at how wasted you were” you blushed in embarrassment, attempting to hide your face from him.

“o-oh thanks for that then. i uh better get going” you stand up quickly, ready to leave the awkward situation at hand. but jaemin didn’t budge, he remained where he was, causing you to barge into his chest. he found your clumsiness amusing, holding you by your shoulders.

“you don’t seem too good to be walking home, just stay the night. i’m sure jisoo would want you here in the morning” he suggested, as you both gave the sleeping girl a solemn look.

“y-yeah, i guess so” your tired eyes meeting his. you had never been this close  to him before. he stared down at you with his deep brown eyes that were enough to make any girl immediately swoon. but this was totally cliche, falling for your best friend’s brother? please. 

besides, you’d never go for a guy like na jaemin. he was a loner, although he did have a tight knit group of friends, that you knew of. jisoo was the more outgoing and popular one between the pair, sometimes you couldn’t fathom that they were related.

“here, i’ll help you out” jaemin wrapped his hand around your wrist as he pulled you to the bathroom. he began wiping the makeup off your face, being careful to avoid being too harsh. you were practically holding your breath the entire time. why the hell was he being so nice to you? this had to be somewhat weird, right?

“all done, i’ll let you get changed” he threw the wipe in the bin before leaving the room without another word.

you changed into some of jisoo’s clothes, feeling yourself start to sober up a little. there was a soft knock on the door, in which you answered. you were met with jaemin holding two glasses of water. he gently pushed past you, handing you a glass before placing one on jisoo’s bedside table.

“you tired?” he practically whispered to you, eyes not leaving yours.

“uh not really to be honest” you replied, taking a large gulp of water. jaemin nodded, biting the inside of his cheek before suggesting,

“did you wanna hang out for a bit? i get it if it’s weird, i just thought it’d be nice” he mumbled, eyes breaking contact with yours. you had never seen him so nervous before, it was sort of endearing. you nodded, following him to his room. it had been the second, maybe third time you had been in his room. the first time was when jisoo attacked him on the morning of their birthday with some birthday punches. you observed the various decorations he had up on his walls. some random band posters and some photography portraits were scattered all over.

“did you take these?” you questioned, admiring a particular portrait right above his bed head.

“uh yeah, i dabble in photography” he shamelessly shrugs, sitting down on his bed. you look over at him, too nervous to sit down with him.

“so this is kind of strange huh? i mean, i’ve known jisoo for years but i feel like i barely know you at all” you started rambling, slowly moving to sit at the edge of his bed, keeping a generous distance between you both.

“well it’s not like we’ve made any efforts. you two are inseparable, it’s sometimes insufferable being in the same room as you both” he decided to rant, making you giggle slightly.

“i don’t really know much about you though, as an individual”

“ah well there’s not really much to me, all i do is sleep, eat, study and occasionally drink at parties, it’s just an endless cycle at this point” you sighed, feeling yourself inch closer to jaemin, your legs swinging onto the surface of his bed. your shoulders were briefly touching, but neither of you made the effort to move away.

“here i was, thinking you were actually interesting” jaemin smirked, nudging you softly. you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, gently shoving him back.

“no but really, there’s gotta be more than that. i mean, i’ve seen you at school. everyone likes you, even the mean teachers. i’ve never seen anyone make Ms Kim light up, even if you were talking about some mathematical theory that no one else understood-“ he stopped himself, looking over at you. you couldn’t believe the words that were leaving his mouth. here you were, believing that he didn’t give a rats ass about your existence but you were wrong.

“so you seem to know me pretty well then” you teased, watching as heat slowly rose to his cheeks. he could barely look at you now.

“but i don’t know the real you” he softly muttered, pulling your eyes back to meet his own. you didn’t say anything back to him. instead you admired how gorgeous he looked under the dim lighting of his bedroom. you weren’t sure if the alcohol was making you act upon this or if you were just caught up in his words, but nothing was stopping you from locking lips with the dark haired boy. it took a moment for him to process what was happening, his hand immediately finding the side of your face, gently stroking it as he deepened the kiss. a voice in your head was telling you this was wrong (probably jisoo’s) but you ignored it. the next thing you knew, you were straddling him, your hands moving to his shoulder as you softly gripped onto his white shirt. he was the first one to pull away,

“should we even be doing this?” he muttered against your lips, pecking you one more time.

“probably not” you smugly smiled, pulling him into you once again. nothing more than a heavy make out sessions with some (possible) groping occurred that night. you didn’t say much to jaemin after, watching as he started to fall asleep. you had no idea what just happened,

did he like you?

did you like him?

you decided to sleep on it, hoping that in the morning, it would have all been some chaotic dream. you made your way back to jisoo’s room, sliding into bed next to her. as you rolled to your side, flashbacks of jaemin’s lips on yours and his hands wandering over you filled your mind.

you remember thinking to yourself, this cannot be happening.

//

the next morning, you were woken up by jisoo’s groaning. she started shuffling, pulling the shared blanket between you both, off of you completely. you decided it was a good time to get up and make your way home. you wrote a note for jisoo to wake up to:

‘hey there, drink this entire glass and take some aspirin okay? i spent the night and will return your clothes soon, rest well! - y/n ‘

you hurriedly grabbed all your belongings that were scattered all over her floor. once you were able to gently close her door without waking her up,

“rise and shine” you jumped at the deep voice behind you.

jaemin has a smug smile on his face, flashbacks of the previous night still lingering in his head. you just froze, your mouth unable to form a proper greeting. he was dressed in the same clothes as last night, a plain white tee and grey sweatpants. his hair was shaggy, random ends were sticking out all over the place. yet you still found him really attractive, wait what?

“i-i’m just gonna head home now, bye bye” you tried to push by him, but he stopped you almost instantly.

“do you wanna go get breakfast?” he suddenly asked, why the hell was he being so nice to you?

“i haven’t brushed my teeth yet, and i’m sure i reek of alcohol or something. maybe some other time” you weren’t sure why you were being so hesitant to spend more time with him. you knew that if jisoo ever found out something was happening between you two, she’d probably freak out and cause a massive scene. you wanted to avoid the theatrics of your best friend as much as possible. even if it meant rejecting one of the most attractive guys at your school.

“so you’re just going to pretend nothing happened?” he let out a soft scoff, in disbelief at your attitude.

“no, i’m not like that. i just- i don’t know what this is. it shouldn’t even be a thing. we shouldn’t even be talking right now” you groan slightly, beginning to walk to the front door. jaemin followed in suit, his figure standing right behind you as you reached the door.

“why are you being like this?” he furrowed his eyebrows, the tiredness in his voice still evident.

“it was my first kiss, jaemin. you were the first guy i’ve ever kissed. and i don’t want it to be weird when jisoo is around. can you understand that?” you explained, guilt rising in your stomach.

“i-i didn’t know it was your first kiss. but if you really care so much about what jisoo thinks of you, then that’s your problem. i’ll just pretend it didn’t happen either” he raised his hands in defeat, reaching over to open the door for you. he leaned closer into you, lips lingering by your ear,

“but i won’t forget about it, no matter how hard i try”

what the hell is this guy playing at?

you broke yourself away from him, rushing out the door, jogging to your house that was just across the road. it’s been a wild 24 hours, all you needed was a nice, hot shower, and to forget that you ever made out with na jaemin.

//

the following monday morning, jisoo came knocking on your bedroom door, waking you up for school. you shot out of your bed, your body thumping onto the ground. jisoo entered your room, and immediately bursted out in laughter.

“god you’re even clumsy when you’re asleep!” she giggled, pulling you up. you just groaned in response, shuffling over to your bathroom to brush your teeth.

“anyway, you are in big trouble” the energy in the room just dropped. you looked over at her, worried about the words that would leave her mouth.

“jaemin told me everything” she continued, making you want to shit your pants even more.

“w-what did he say?” you spat out the toothpaste that was in your mouth, eyes now focused on your sink.

“he said that he saw you wearing my new pink pajama bottoms!” you sighed in relief, thank god.

“i know that we have a bestie code and take eachother’s clothes a lot! but i just bought those and i hadn’t had a chance to even wear them yet” jisoo pouted, folding her arms before huffing. you shot her an apologetic smile, finally finishing washing up before you made your way over to her. you handed her the neatly folded clothes beside your bed,

“i’m sorry, they were the first thing i saw! i’ll buy you something from the canteen. can i be forgiven?” jisoo pretended to think, before pulling you into a short hug.

“ah of course! now get ready for school, i’m going to raid your pantry” she skipped her way out of your room. you let out another sigh of relief, not realising that your hands were shaking the entire time. why didn’t jaemin just expose you both to jisoo? maybe he was a man of his word.

you walked through the hallways, jisoo right by your side. your eyes were practically scanning for any sign of jaemin. according to jisoo, he hangs out with his ‘loser friends’ behind the science block. she always assumed they were doing something sketchy there, but you had never seen it for yourself.

“i-i gotta talk to Ms Kim about the quiz, i’ll see you during our free period” you lied through your teeth, but luckily jisoo thought nothing of it, you were always meeting with Ms Kim about your grades anyway.

you cautiously made your way to the science block, eyes still on the lookout for na jaemin. you saw one of his close friends, jeno (?) but there was no sign of him. maybe he didn’t even hang out here, you were about to give up and go back to your own friends, when you heard the familiar voice call out to you,

“y/n? what are you doing here?” jaemin made his way towards you, catching the attention of his entire friend group.

“i-i was looking for you” he immediately perked up. you knew he was about to say something cheesy, but he stopped himself.

“why didn’t you tell jisoo about what happened saturday night?” he pursed his lips for a moment, thinking of what to say.

“i didn’t feel like it was any of her business. it’s between us” he smirked at the last part, making you stomach feel uneasy, but sort of in a good way.

“i’m sorry for rushing out that morning. i just felt really awkward about everything. i don’t want you to think you’re like a bad kisser or anything like i actually quite enjoyed it” you stopped yourself from rambling any further once you saw how amused he looked. god he was gorgeous.

“you can keep going, i like hearing you talk about me” oh this was bad.

“s-so what? do you like me or is this all fun and games to you?” you tried to get to the bottom of this whole mess.

“i do have some interest in you, yes. i wouldn’t be opposed to seeing you more often and kissing you again” he shrugged, still showing off the same smug expression.

“same here” you blurred out. you brought your hands to cover your face, you couldn’t believe you just admitted that to him.

“then i guess i’ll see you around then. jisoo doesn’t have to know” jaemin slowly backed away from you, eyes still wandering over your figure. was he really checking you out right now? infront of his friends? you wondered how many other people saw you two.

to say that you didn’t think about jaemin for the rest of the day was a complete and utter lie. as soon as you got home, you couldn’t get him out of your head.  

//

you were finishing up the last bit of maths homework for the night, when you heard something tapping against your window. you assumed it was some bird that was pecking at the window sill like many others had before, but as you stepped closer, jaemin’s shaggy black hair came into view. you quickly opened your window, dragging the taller boy into your room, careful that your parents wouldn’t hear.

“are you insane or just dumb?” you scold the boy who was dressed in a baggy black hoodie and those same grey sweatpants from saturday.

“both? i couldn’t stop thinking about you” his lip cocked into a smirk as he stepped closer to you, hands now rested at your waist. you were caught up in how good he looked, especially at this time of day. you didn’t realise how strange it was that he literally just climbed through your window with no prior warning. you pulled away from him slightly, still reserved about whatever was going on between you both.

“look, i just wanted to hang out with you, i swear! i would invite you to mine but your bff would just hog you the entire time” jaemin let out a soft grunt, slipping off his shoes and making himself at home on your bed. you moved to the empty spot next to him, letting him pull you in by your waist as he smoothly linked his fingers with yours.

“this just seems like it’s going really fast. can we just slow down for a bit? i mean, we don’t really know eachother that well yet” you explain, resting your head back on your headboard. jaemin looked over at you, admiring how the loose strands of your messy hair were sticking in all sort of places. and how your glasses were slowly slipping down your nose but you were too lazy to push them all the way back up. you were wearing your classic plaid pajama set, which jaemin found absolutely adorable. he reached over to your face, pushing some hair strands aside before gently pushing your glasses back up.

“well what do you wanna know then?” he whispered, aware that your parents probably wouldn’t want to walk in on their daughter with a boy in her bed.

“have you always, like thought of being friends with me?” you thought it was a dumb question to say out loud but jaemin seemed to be hesitant to answer, only making you more curious.

“i- honestly, yeah i have. i actually remember the first time i met you. i was with jisoo and we saw you sitting on the swings on the playground at school. we were kids back then, all we wanted to do was make friends. i was the first one to suggest we go over together, but then jisoo beat me to it” he stopped momentarily, looking over at you once again to see if you were still listening. you gently squeezed his hand that rested so perfectly in yours, as he continued,

“as any other ten year old boy would do, i just shrugged it off and found my own little group. i know this doesn’t really answer your question as it was a long time ago. but since you and jisoo clicked, and you started hanging out more, i couldn’t help but think, what would happen if i went up to you first?” you nodded along at his words, finding his way of storytelling so compelling.

“even if you approached me first, we both know that jisoo would have tried to snatch me in an instant” you both let out soft chuckles, both agreeing that jisoo was quite a character. “but after all these years, you’ve barely acknowledged me. i actually thought you hated me at one point” jaemin’s mouth opened as if he was about to speak before closing it slowly. he thought hard about what he could say to impress you,

“i never hated you. i just never got a chance to speak to you personally. jisoo was always there, and if we start dating or liking eachother, it’s probably going to get worse” jaemin admitted. there was a certain degree in which you understood what he was saying. but if you both ended up having true feelings for eachother, who was jisoo to stop you?

“y-you think we might end up dating?” you couldn’t hide how giddy you felt, leaning in closer to him, your noses gently brushing against eachother. jaemin smiled widely, his heart beating erratically. sure, he’s kissed other girls and even dated some, but none of them could compete with how flustered you were making him right now.

“i-i mean yeah, i don’t see myself with anyone else at the moment” jaemin whispered against your lips, slowly closing the gap. you moved your hand to rest on his shoulder as he glided his own hands to cup the side of your face. everything was so natural with him. you didn’t have to be nervous, or second guess yourself around jaemin. he made you feel safe, comfortable, like you meant something to him. things started getting heated when jaemin started rubbing small circles on your thighs, his lips still attached to yours. you weren’t sure how far he was going to go tonight, but your mind was clouded with how good it felt to kiss him again. jaemin’s lips started trailing down your jaw, to your neck, before you interrupted,

“h-hey, taking it slow, remember?” he immediately stopped, eyes filled with list as he looked up at you.

“anything for you, baby” he mumbled, placing one last kiss to your cheek. you both ended up chatting the rest of the night, telling stories from your childhood to the horrors of puberty. despite the fact that you both had school the next morning, you didn’t want jaemin to leave, and neither did he.

//

“i have a proposition for you” jisoo exclaims, pulling you along as you walk through the local shopping mall, in need of some retail therapy from midterms approaching.

“what is it now?” you playfully roll your eyes as sip on your bubble tea.

“i’m going to set you up on a date!” she practically squeezed you so hard you almost choked on the boba.

“w-who? what? when? where? why?” you couldn’t believe her sometimes.

“it’s with renjun, you know, the guy in our bio class. anyways, he’s recently single, you’re just single. and i think he’d be a good match for you!” she explains further, as you both take a seat on a nearby bench in the middle of the mall.

“what makes you think he’ll even be interested in me? did you threaten him or something?” you give her a subtle glare, still recovering from your choking experience.

“well i saw him looking at you a few times during class, so he must think you’re pretty at least” her logic never failed to entertain you.

“i’m not interested in dating anyone at the moment, please don’t tell me you already set it up” she looked over at you with a soft smile, moving strands of her hair behind her ear.

“god you already did” you groan in frustration. jisoo saw how annoyed you were. you know she had good intentions but you were capable of getting a date...if you really wanted one.

“i’m sorry, i just thought it’d be cute, you know since he’s friends with haechan and you know i have a crush on him. so i thought we could all hang out together!” she started babbling, but somehow you understood it all. you were going to do this for her, and her only.

“okay fine, ONE date, and it’s a group one” you firm with your best friend as she nods in compliance.

here goes nothing.

//

the evening of the double date, you were getting ready in your room. what were you even supposed to wear? your thoughts were interrupted by repetitive taps on your window. you glance over, seeing jaemin’s fluffy hair peek through the glass. you giggle lightly at the sight, rushing to open your window to let the poor boy in.

“hey, you won’t believe what just happened, jisoo is freaking out beca- woah, you look, uh really nice” jaemin stops himself, taking a moment to admire your look for the night. you felt your cheeks heat up immediately, turning away from him to hide them as best you could.

“t-thanks, why was jisoo freaking out?” you tried to draw back to his sudden outburst.

“oh yeah, she was asking me what boys liked, and if i thought haechan would like her back. ahh it was hilarious, she’s a nutcase” jaemin chuckled lightly, flopping himself on your bed, eyeing you closely.

“she’s just nervous! we’re going on a double date” you didn’t get to continue, as jaemin practically leaped from your bed, over to stand infront of you again.

“a double date? who are you paired with?” jaemin furrows his eyebrows, a wave of worry just washing over him within the past ten seconds.

“don’t worry, it’s just with renjun, a guy in our bio class. i’m only going to calm down jisoo, i’m sure renjun is a nice guy but-“ you hesitate, taking in a short breath before continuing. jaemin has his eyes fixed on you, listening to ever word that strung from your mouth.

“but what?” he whispered, his face inching closer to yours.

“but he’s not you” you finally felt a weight lift off your shoulders. your words only made jaemin confirm for himself that he was so completely into you. without another word, he pulled you in for a warm embrace, placing small kisses on the crown of your head.

“that’s all i needed to hear, have fun tonight. let me know if an SOS situation occurs, jisoo can get full on with her crushes” jaemin pulls away from you, fixing bits of your hair that be accidentally messed up.

“you say that as if she isn’t my best friend” you roll your eyes, allowing him to pat down strands of your hair as gently as he could.

“well sometimes i forget. you’re just that amazing, jisoo needs someone like you. i need someone like you” jaemin finishes what he was doing, his hands now moving to cup your face, softly squishing your cheeks together.

“let me know when you get home, i’ll come over and we can uh, lock lips” he started making loud kissing sounds, only making you push him away from you in embarrassment.

jaemin seemed fine with the idea of you going on the double date. you would assume so, considering you indirectly confessed to liking him. you just had to get through tonight, and then you and jaemin could continue whatever, odd friends with benefits but not really, relationship you have.

//

“so y/n, how did you do on the last bio exam?” renjun tried to make small conversation with you, trying to avoid the constant chattering of your friends. you appreciated how considerate he was being, considering you barely knew him or haechan.

“i think i did okay! how about you?” you continued, taking a quick sip of your strawberry milkshake. you were all sitting in a random diner that haechan recommended. you’d think after one game of bowling, a walk through the local park, and dinner at this diner, that they’d all be tired. but no, you forgot how energetic your friend was, and renjun was slowly starting to realise the same thing.

“the last few questions were challenging, i’d be lucky to get one of them right” you both chuckled softly, your eyes diverting to jisoo and haechan who were too caught up in their own world.

“did you want a ride home? i’m 99% sure haechan is going to offer to walk jisoo home” renjun offered, reaching for his car keys. you hesitated for a moment, nudging jisoo softly as she just waved you off. you rolled your eyes, opting to interrupt her conversation.

“renjun’s taking me home, let me know once you’re home okay? and haechan, make sure she’s safe” you sternly point at the cheery boy, who just nodded. you walked with renjun to his car, hopping into the passenger side. the ride was fairly quiet, he didn’t try to force any awkward conversation into you, thank god. all you could think about was going home and seeing jaemin again.

as he reached your house, you quickly gathered your things, ready to bid him farewell.

“thanks for agreeing to go on this double date. i had fun, i hope you did to. maybe we can do this again sometime, but maybe just us...” renjun stooped you from leaving the car. you widened your eyes at his words, was the really asking you out right now?

sure you thought he was a nice guy, but the ‘date’ didn’t seem much like a date to you at all.

“i-uh i had fun tonight, but i’m....actually seeing someone, i’m sorry” you quickly blurred out, even more shocked at your own words. renjun’s mouth was slightly agape, not expecting that answer at all. he pulled himself together, shaking off the entire situation.

“it’s okay, i understand. have a nice night” he gave you a small smile, but you knew it was filled with shame. you didn’t know what else to do but signal him a small wave as you exited his car and walked to your front door. you felt guilty for lying to renjun, but it wasn’t a complete lie. you started replaying the whole scene through your head. as you entered your room, you were met with jaemin looking all cozied you in your bed. he had an oversized hoodie on, with some plain grey sweatpants.

“ah you’re home, i queued up some videos to watch!” jaemin made his way over to you, pulling you in a for a tight hug. and just like that, all thoughts of renjun just washed away. jaemin was your person, one day you’ll be able to tell the whole world. but right now, you were happy with keeping it your little secret.

//

“what’s this i hear about you telling renjun you’re seeing someone? who the hell is it? because surely they have to be able to top this perfect dude i found for you” jisoo starts ranting on your way to first period the following day. your mind was still foggy, memories of the night you spent with jaemin, floating through your head.

“i-i just wasn’t interested in him. or anyone for that matter, it was a little white lie” you shrugged, trying to drop the situation completely. but she wasn’t buying it at all.

“there has to be someone, the last thing you are, is a liar” jisoo furrowed her brows at you, giving you a playful stank glare. you broke eye contact with her, rushing ahead to get to your class so she couldn’t pester you anymore about this situation. unfortunately, you felt your barge against someone with a very hard chest, they didn’t even flinch. you looked up to apologise, the playful glare of jaemin meeting your eyes. you quickly stepped back, pulling yourself together from that embarrassing scenario. jisoo ran up to you, softly giggling, before you saw her face fall at the sight of her brother.

“ugh it’s you” she scoffs, making sure you were okay.

“oh don’t act so happy to see me” jaemin sarcastically responded, eyes only fixed on you as if he has tunnel vision.

“leave poor y/n alone, it’s bad enough she has to see you when she comes over, don’t make it hard on her here” jisoo teased, pulling you away from him slowly. but jaemin quickly caught onto your arm, leaning down to your ear,

“i’m very sorry, y/n”

he had a hint of mischief in his voice, that you hoped jisoo wouldn’t catch onto. all you could do was not a mumble that it was okay, before jisoo completely pulled you away from him. seeing him at school everyday, while keeping everything a secret, was going to be a lot harder than you thought.

why did he have to be so alluring? so enticing? all you wanted to do was sit with him and talk for hours on end. maybe share a few pecks here and there, but as days went by, jaemin would engage in lengthy conversations with you. he would tell you about how spoilt and bratty jisoo could get, and how their parents would push jaemin aside, and support jisoo in all her studies and other extracurriculars, but they couldn’t even attend one of his photography exhibitions at school. he confided in you deeply, telling you things that no other soul would know. you didn’t know why he just lets it all out to you, but who were you to oppose? you loved listening to him talk as he played with your hair. you loved his lame jokes and stories about detention. you loved when he talked about his photography, how passionate he was whenever he talked about capturing the most beautiful moments through his lens. everything about na jaemin was close to perfect. you just wished you could call him yours, officially.

//

jaemin: meet me out front in 20 mins, i wanna show you something

your face contorted into a mix of confusion and excitement. you pulled on your most puffy winter jacket and some black boots, before slowly creeping out your front door to meet jaemin across the road. he was leaning against his car, dressed in a white hoodie with a leather jacket over it and some plain black jeans. you embraced him in a warm hug, as he chuckled into your neck and how adorable you looked in your puffy jacket. he placed a soft kiss to your cheek before opening the door for you, you kindly accepted, hopping right in. you noticed he had a suspiciously packed duffel bag in the back of his car, what the hell was he planning?

“so you’re gonna tell me why we’re going out at 11:30 at night? if you wanted to make out, we could have just done it in my room, my parents aren’t home, we don’t have to be qu-“ you were interrupted with his lips on yours, like many times before. his cold hands reached to hold your face, causing you to jump at the sudden touch. he stops kissing you momentarily, shooting you a smirk before continuing. as much as you were enjoying it, you were still curious as to where he was taking you.

“jaem, seriously, where are we going?”

you pulled away, lips slightly swollen. jaemin wiped his thumb gently over your lips, looking at you with such adoration in his eyes.

“we’re going somewhere i like to go when i need to clear my head, or just be alone. i wanna share it with you” your heart swelled at his words. how was he this perfect?

as he started the car, his hands immediately found its way to hold yours. your fingers instantly linking.

your eyes switched between focusing on jaemin, to your window. you weren’t really used to going out so late at night, never having a reason to. being with jaemin, made you feel like you were finally able to escape from everything else, even if it was temporary. there was a stillness in him that no one else was able to give you. he made you feel like you were doing okay, that you were going at a steady pace in life. jaemin was comforting to you, you wanted nothing to disturb this peace.

jaemin parked the car, tugging on your hand that you had arrived. you observed your surrounding immediately, where the hell were you? all you could see were trees and shrubs, as well as a gravel trail leading up a fairly large hill.

“you’re not gonna like murder me or something, right?” you cautiously asked, pulling your jacket to wrap around you tighter. jaemin chuckled at your words, pulling his fully packed duffel bag over his shoulder as he made his way over to you.

“don’t worry, baby. you just gotta trust me” he placed his free arm around you, leading you both up the hill. as you reached the very top, jaemin set down his bag. he pulled out a small picnic blanket, along with his camera equipment. you took a moment to grasp the view. it was a mini aerial view of your small neighbourhood. although it wasn’t a view of the entire city or pretty bright lights, you understood why he liked to come here.

“so this is my spot. i usually sit, take some photos and uh write in my journal” he sits down on the blanket, signalling for you to join him. you plop down right next to him, leaving no space between you. he pulled you closer, if that was even possible, his arms linking around your waist.

“it’s really pretty up here, thank you for sharing it with me” you leaned your head against his shoulder.  as you were admiring the view, jaemin was admiring a view of his own. your hair was slightly messy, the soft breeze blowing your baby hairs in all sorts of places. your glistening eyes observing the view that jaemin sought for comfort. but he found his new comfort place. and it was with you. wherever he was, if he had you beside him, he knew everything would be okay.

“why aren’t you saying anything?” you gently nudge him,

“i just like the quiet” he pauses for a moment before suddenly reaching for his camera. he removed his arm from your waist, which made you feel slightly empty inside. but he made up for it when he started fiddling with his camera, pulling it up to face you.

“oh come on, stop it” you hid your face with your hands, pulling away from him. jaemin moved his camera down, revealing the most adorable pout you had ever seen. you couldn’t resist his charms.

“ugh fine” you slowly pulled your hands away, allowing your lips to form a small smile as jaemin snapped the picture.

“you look gorgeous, as always” he mumbled to himself, not thinking you would hear him, but you did. the rest of the night was spent taking as many photos as jaemin wanted.

he was attempting to take a selfie with his camera, claiming the quality was much better than your measly phones. he held the camera up slightly, fitting both your faces in the frame.

“okay, three, two, on-“ you leant closer to him, placing a quick peck on his cheek as the camera flashed. his eyes shot over to you, a mischievous smirk washing over his face.

“you think you’re slick?” he mumbled, capturing you in another kiss, carefully discarding his camera to the side as he slowly moved his lips against yours. you felt yourself lean back under his grip, your back now laying on the blanket completely. jaemin leant over you, pulling away for a short moment,

“i-i think i love you” your eyes widen at his confession. love?

you hadn’t put too much thought on how you really felt towards jaemin. you knew you had formed a crush on him since day one, but love? you weren’t even sure you knew what love was. jaemin noticed how nervous you were getting, immediately becoming concerned.

“i-i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have put that on you, i’m such an idiot”

“no, it’s okay, jaemin. i just don’t know what it’s like to love someone, like how you say you love me” you admitted, his face still inches from yours, you hands now rubbing over his arms. jaemin nodded, completely understanding how you felt.

“but loving you, isn’t something i see as impossible. i’m falling for you everyday, i’ll say it back when i know i’m ready” you assured him, watching as his eyes glided over you. he couldn’t believe how unbelievably incredible you were. how you were able to accept his confession. jaemin was confident that you would return his feelings. he couldn’t wait for the day you would confess your love for him.

“you’re amazing” you blushed at his words, pulling him down to lay next to you as you wrapped your arms around him.

“thankyou for tonight, this can be our thing” jaemin couldn’t argue against that. this was now officially your spot. that would never change.

//

at the na family home, jisoo was furiously searching for her usb drive that contained the video for her audition for the school’s upcoming musical. she pulled at her hair, letting out multiple huffs and grunts. her thoughts led her to her brother’s room. luckily he was currently out with his friends, doing who knows what, otherwise she would have been dead. she sorted through his desk, assuming he may have taken it by mistake when she left it on the dining table the previous night. there were stacks of random papers scattered on the boy’s desk, she was slightly appalled at how unorganised he was. after a solid minute of shuffling, the bright yellow usb stick came to view. before she picked it up, a sudden notification appeared on jaemin’s laptop, he must have forgotten to properly shut it off. jisoo ignored it at first, until she noticed the all too familiar contact name.

y/n?

why on earth were you texting jaemin?

jisoo felt sneaky, already snooping through her brother’s desk, only leading her to his precious laptop. if jaemin caught her right now, he’d be furious. but jisoo couldn’t get over her growing curiosity, moving her fingers on the trackpad to open your messages.

y/n: hey, could you send the photos from a few nights ago?

jisoo furrowed her brows for a moment, what photos were you talking about? she swiped over to his desktop, a folder titled ‘special moments’ already opened. it was mainly filled with jaemin’s photography assignments and other things he found intriguing, but the last thing she expected to find, were multiple photos of her best friend and her brother on a date. she scrolled further, eyes landing on the photo of you kissing jaemin’s cheek.

‘are you fucking kidding me?’ she whispered to herself. it all started making sense to her. jaemin constantly sneaking out of the house on numerous nights, you avoiding her nightly facetime calls. how awkward you two would act at school, how you rejected renjun, claiming you were seeing someone else. jaemin was that someone else.

“what the hell are you doing on my laptop? or in my room, for that matter” jaemin exclaimed, storming to his desk. jisoo glared at him, bringing her right hand to slap him harshly on the shoulder.

“how could you?” she gritted through her teeth, pointing to the laptop screen. jaemin held his arm in pain, looking over to what his sister was so mad about.

“we- i didn’t want you to find out like this, i swear” his voice softened,

“you mean you didn’t want me to find out at all, did you?” jisoo couldn’t hide the fact she felt betrayed by the two people she trusted most in the world.

“i thought we were closer than that, jaemin. you used to tell me everything. and out of every person in the world, you choose my best friend?” jisoo still couldn’t fathom the thought of you together. in her mind, you were her friend first before you were jaemin’s girlfriend.

“not everything revolves around you, you know? i’ve been going through shit and you haven’t noticed in years! y/n is the only person who listens to me and makes me feel like i actually matter” jaemin practically shouts back at his sister, causing her to tear up. ���and if you hadn’t noticed, we’ve been together for a while, i even told her i loved her” jaemin’s delivery for the last line ended in a sudden whimper. jisoo couldn’t believe what she was hearing, was she really that naive?

“you love her? did she say it back?” was all she managed to say.

“she hasn’t said it back to me yet. she’s scared, i know she is. she’s scared of what you’ll think” jaemin shuffled over to sit on his bed, feeling himself cool down from the confrontation. jisoo softly sniffled, remaining completely still.

“i can’t do this, don’t hurt her, jaem. she’s never been inlove and i don’t want you ruining her first love experience, she deserves so much better” jisoo scoffs, grabbing her usb in a hurry before slamming the door behind her. jaemin couldn’t believe his own sister would presume such cruel things about him. but he knew it was only a matter of time before it was your turn to get the heat.

*incoming call from nana <3*

“oh hey! did you get my text?” you started the call, gently folding your clothes from the wash. jaemin coughed slightly, unsure of how to bring up the conversation. you halted your actions before asking,

“are you okay? do you want to come over?” you quickly became concerned.

“she knows, y/n. jisoo knows. she was snooping on my laptop and found the photos. i’m so sorry” your heart sank at his words. you felt like your whole world was turning upside down. of course you knew that she would find out one way or another. but at such a critical stage in yours and jaemin’s relationship, the timing was just not aligning. you knew that jisoo lived for the drama and theatrics of things, expecting her to blow up the entire situation.

“was she pissed?” you nervously gulped, not ready to face the fury of your best friend.

“yeah, she said some things to me, i-i’m fine though. i just wanted to give you a heads up. i didn’t mean for this to happen” jaemin groaned, pulling at his hair as he thought of ways to soothe the situation.

“i’ll try and talk to her, i guess the truth is finally coming out” you sighed, immediately worry washing over you. this wasn’t good.

//

you hadn’t heard from jisoo in almost a week. to say you were worried was an understatement.

nana <3: uh she wants us all to meet, preferably at our house. she doesn’t seem too mad?

y/n: fingers crossed, i’ll be there in 5

you wiped your palms over your leggings, feeling your hands shake in anticipation. the walk over to the na’s house seemed like a lifetime. you were greeted by jaemin, who avoided pulling you in for a warm embrace like he usually does when you see eachother. he led you to the living room, where jisoo stood, her arms crossed over her chest, an unreadable expression on her face. you cautiously took a seat on the opposite side of where jaemin sat on the couch. jisoo’s glares flickered between the both of you, unsure of how to begin.

“i have gathered you both here to discuss this little...relationship, between you both” she started,

“is it even a relationship?” you looked over at jaemin who was already looking over at you. you had never put any labels on whatever you and jaemin had.

“w-we’re not dating” you mutter, eyes avoiding those of your best friend.

“then what? friends with benefits? have you guys screwed eachother?” she continued to hound down on the details. jaemin noticed how uncomfortable you looked, he needed to just be honest.

“no we haven’t screwed. we made out on the night of haechan’s party, the one where you were knocked out drunk. we brought you home and we found ourselves hanging out together for the night and we kissed. it started from there and we’ve just been seeing eachother regularly ever since” jaemin summarised, hoping it would  bring ease to her mind. jisoo was stunned, so it had been months since it all started.

“but you told me you loved her. do you love him back, y/n?” jisoo’s voice suddenly softened, allowing you to finally look at her.

“i-i do” jaemin’s eyes shot towards you instantly, a soft smirk growing on his face. jisoo’s mouths slowly widened, this was the first time you had admitted you loved somebody in the entire time she had been friends with you. jisoo moves over to sit between you both on the couch, leaning back slowly.

“why couldn’t you guys just be honest with me?” she sounded hurt at the thought of you both not trusting her. you held her hand in yours, noticing how she seemed choked up about everything.

“we just didn’t know how to tell you. especially since we hadn’t made things official yet” you explained, signalling jaemin to jump in.

“we wanted you to know when we both knew that we loved eachother and it wasn’t going to change” jaemin assures his sister, practically pleading for her blessing and forgiveness.

“i-i’m sorry for blowing up at both of you. and i’m sorry for ignoring you, y/n. it’s just so weird, the idea of you kissing my brother” jisoo started fake gagging, causing jaemin to give her a stank glare. you laughed softly at her antics, pulling her in closer to you.

“we didn’t want to hurt you, or make you feel like we didn’t trust you. we just needed time together” you continued to explain, jaemin nodding along.

“y-you guys actually don’t seem too bad together. as long as you’re both happy, i guess i’ll be happy for you too. just, no making out infront of me, please?” after hearing those words, you and jaemin tackled jisoo in a fit of tickles and hugs. her giggles and pleas to stop echoed through the house. everything felt like it had been restored in the world. everything was aligning for you and jaemin to finally be together.

//

that night, you left their house with the biggest smile on your face. jisoo was already knocked out on the couch after you three decided to rewatch all the high school musical movies. jaemin slowly crept you out of the house, grabbing your hand in his. he offered to walk you home, despite it only being barely a minute away.

“tonight was really nice, thankyou” you whispered to him softly, pulling yourself closer to him as you both stood on your front porch.

“s-so you meant what you said? you love me?” jaemin’s eyes met yours as he nibbles on his lip anxiously. you held both his hands in yours,

“of course i do. i love you, jaemin” you finally said it out loud to him. jaemin immediately picked you up in his arms, swinging you around gently before placing endless kisses all over your face.

“does this finally mean you can be my girlfriend now?” he stopped kissing you, his lips only inches from your face. you felt his breath fan over your cheeks, letting out a soft giggle. you enthusiastically nodded, pulling his lips onto yours. jaemin was taken by surprise, but he surely wasn’t going to complain.

“can i spend the night?” jaemin muttered against your lips, your eyes slowly opening to see his pouty expression.

“finally, you can come through the door for once” you both started laughing, rushing you to your bedroom where jaemin helped you remove your jacket. he pulled you gently over to your bed, slowly kissing your lips as gently as he could. you found your arms wrapping around the back of his neck, playing with his hair. jaemin let out a short grunt,

“don’t do that” he mumbled, moving to kiss your cheeks.

“why not?” you whispered, continuing your actions,

“because you shouldn’t start something you can’t finish” he admitted, pulling away from you. you held your breath before you spoke. you hadn’t gone further than some heated make outs sessions with jaemin, you always stopped him when you felt uncomfortable. but right now, it felt right.

“i-i want to go further” you finally admitted, watching as jaemin widens his eyes. he did not expect that from you at all.

“i do too, but uh contrary to popular belief, i’ve never done...it before” jaemin confesses, pushing someone strands of hair from his own face, feeling his cheeks heat up.

you had always assumed he wasn’t a virgin due to a lot of baseless gossip from kids at school.

“really? that’s...great” he looked at you with the most confused expression you’d ever seen.

“i-i mean it’s great because i’m a virgin too” you started to giggle in order to diffuse the tension between you both. jaemin let out a sigh of relief, you truly were the most person person in the world for him.

“so you’re okay with this?” he wanted to affirm once again, earning another enthusiastic nod from you, “yes”

let’s say, the rest of the night took your relationship to the next level.

//

“come on, you two! we’re going to be late!” jisoo hurriedly scurried around the house, looking for her new boots. you all were heading to another one of haechan’s parties. his reasoning was for the ‘mid semester break’ which really was just a long weekend but no one bothered to question him. jaemin opted to be the designated driver, like he always was.

“so are you going to make a move on haechan or what? it’s been months” you slightly teased her as you all entered the car.

“n-no, i can’t flirt to save my life. after the double date, he and i barely talked” jisoo huffed, fixing up her makeup.

“i’ll just have to have a chat to him then” jaemin chimed in, cheekily grinning at the thought. you knew he was going to be up to something, but jisoo decided to ignore her brother’s words, too caught up in her own mind.

as the three of you entered the house, haechan shuffled to greet you all. jaemin met him first, giving him somewhat of a bro hug, followed by you who loosely wrapped your arm around him. once he got to jisoo, he paused, causing her to look up directly at him. he softly chuckled before pulling her into his chest, making you and jaemin snicker in delight. you agreed not to drink much tonight, not wanting a repeat of the last time you got drunk. but jisoo on the other hand, was a complete mess as per usual.

“i’m gonna get some water, want one?” you offered to jaemin as he slowly allowed you to pull away from his warm grip.

“sure, love” you blushed at the nickname he gave you, rushing to retrieve the drinks. as you were in the kitchen, you heard a familiar voice next to you,

“y/n? hey how are you?” renjun’s voice chimed through your ears. you greeted him with a bright smile, slowly fading as you remembered the last time you properly spoke to eachother.

“i’m doing well, and you?” you continued the conversation, sipping on your own cup.

“yeah i’ve been good. you here with anyone?” he asked cautiously, but before you could answer, jaemin cut in,

“she’s with me” you felt his arm wrap around your waist, leaning over to grab his cup. you weren’t sure of what else to say, only able to look at renjun who seemed dumbfounded and a little embarrassed.

“oh, i see. you’re with jaemin, i should have known. have a nice night” renjun scurried off to meet his own friends, wanting to avoid you at all costs.

“you didn’t have to say it in that tone, you know?” you turned to face your boyfriend who had a playful grin on his face.

“i know, it just came out that way, i promise” he brushed his fingertips over your cheeks, making your face slightly heat up.

“jaemin!! y/n!! there you are!!” jisoo ran up to you, grabbing you into some sort of side hug. you helped hold her up as jaemin analysed how drunk she was.

“are you alright?” you questioned, trying to find a seat for her to rest. jaemin followed in suit, watching over the both you closely.

“yes! i’m great! haechan kissed me, well i kissed him and he kissed me back!” she started giggling. you both weren’t sure if she was being delirious or not. until haechan came to meet you all, asking if she was okay.

“she’s had a crush on you like forever you know?” jaemin teases, causing jisoo to slap his chest. haechan started blushing, slowly nodding,

“i-i’m aware. she’s pretty cute” he smirked, watching as jisoo hid her face in your shoulder.

“we should actually get her home to rest, and stop her from embarrassing herself further infront of you. but call her in the morning, yeah?” jaemin shook hands with the other boy, hooking one of jisoo’s arms over his shoulders and you copied with her other arm. haechan led you to the front door, bidding you all a goodbye. jisoo was mumbling endless compliments towards haechan, too drunk to even care what she was saying.

“like i wanna kiss him so bad and run my hands through his fluffy hair” she giggled as jaemin started the car. you both found the entire situation entertaining, recording bits of her rambling for future blackmail. as you reached their house, you helped jaemin lead her to her bed, much like the first time. once jisoo was tucked safely in bed, finally fast asleep, you changed into more comfortable clothes before hopping into jaemin’s bed.

“i’m getting some massive déjà vu right now” he teased, jumping right next to you as he pulled you to his side. you softly played with his hands as you placed small kisses over his knuckles.

“i’m glad you were there to look after us that night. otherwise we’d never be where we are now” you muttered, feeling frostiness slowly taking over.

“i’m just glad you’re here right now. i’m too used to climbing through your window. maybe you should come through mine sometime” he joked,

“i think we should start getting used to front doors don’t you reckon?” you retorted, causing him to pull you on top of him.

“don’t be such a smart ass” he mumbled before placing a chaste kiss to your lips. the rest of your night consisted of endless rambling and chatter on the most random topics, before you both fell asleep.

being jaemin’s girlfriend was always a secret fantasy when you were kids. but now you were wrapped in his arms, all you could think about was how happy jaemin made you. you were grateful to find someone who understood you, someone who cared for you, someone who gave you comfort. being inlove with na jaemin made you feel on top of the world. And if you’re lucky, if you’re the luckiest person on this entire planet, the person you love decides to love you back.

a/n: not the one tree hill quote as my finishing sentence oops 

[topazy]

Silent Bloom

Parings: Finn Collins/reader Bellamy Blake/reader

Warnings: None

Chapter: 2.01

"Ok, tell me again."

You groaned into your hands. You had explained everything that had happened, from the mountain men chasing you to Ada letting you go countless times that morning. Blinking against the sun shining in your eyes, you let out a deep sigh. "I can’t. I’m sorry, but I’ve gone over it so many times the details are starting to become fuzzy."

Clarke gave you an uncertain look before leaning back in her chair. You yawned into your hand and fought against the urge to close your eyes. The lack of sleep was starting to catch up with you.

Bellamy cleared his throat, which helped ease the growing awkwardness. "Tell us again what the plan is."

"It's a labyrinth. We got to the dam through this tunnel. It's all connected to the mine system. That's our way in."

Bellamy looked skeptical. "Are you sure we can get past the reapers and the..." He paused as his eyes lingered on you before continuing, "mountain men? I swear to God if your mom doesn’t sanction the mission, I’m going by myself."

"You won't be by yourself," Clarke confirmed.

Your jaw opened slightly as you noticed Finn walking towards your table. Gulping, you did your best not to make eye contact with him. "Guess the inquisitions are over," Bellamy said, giving you a sympathetic look. "How's Finn doing anyway?"

You shrugged. "I haven’t spoken to him since...since I came back."

"Hey," Finn said softly.

You continued staring at the table in front of you while Finn made small talk with Bellamy, and Clarke. You were afraid to look at him. The Finn Collins who did this wasn’t the same boy you grew up with. He wasn’t your best friend, or lover. The person standing next to you was a stranger. A murderer.

"Next round on me," Bellamy said as he stood up to leave the table. He squeezed your shoulder as he walked behind you.

Finn sat down across from you. "Mount weather, what’s the plan?"

"Still working on it."

Glancing at the blonde beside you, it finally sank in how Finn’s actions had affected everyone. Clarke had lost one of the few friends she had, and you couldn’t even imagine what this was doing to Raven. You stood up from your chair and finally made eye contact with Finn. Staring into his brown eyes hurt. He looked so lost and confused, but it still didn’t change what happened. "Excuse me, I need to get some fresh air."

—

"You look lonely out here."

You frowned instantly upon hearing his voice. You weren’t in the mood. "What do you want, Murphy?"

Murphy placed his hands on his chest, pretending to be hurt, before sitting down on the ground next to you. "Not interested in our hero’s gathering either?"

"I came outside because I needed some air."

Murphy made a scoffing noise, "I thought you would have been the council's new shiny toy. I’d heard you’d escaped grounders and our good friends from the mountain."

"And I heard Bellamy almost beat you to death again for trying to hang him."

You noticed Murphy toying with his fingers. "Yeah yeah, the same old Murphy that everyone hates."

"I don’t hate you." You looked at him, confused, as he shook his head, and scoffed. Did Murphy think you were mocking him? Despite everything that he’s done, you didn’t hate him.

"What, do you think I’m lying?"

"You kicked me down a ladder."

"In all fairness, you had it coming." Murphy nudged your shoulder as you both laughed until you saw the others getting ready to leave. "Can I ask you something? Would you have done it?"

Murphy let out a sigh, before answering. Even without saying the actual words, he knew what you meant. "I tried to stop him...I’ve done similar things to survive."

"No, no you haven’t. We’ve all done things we aren’t proud of, but nothing... eighteen people are dead. I always thought I’d do anything to protect my friends, but after this, I’m honestly not so sure."

"He didn’t do that because he was looking for a friend. Finn did it because he’s in love with you."

As you opened your mouth to reply, Octavia’s voice cut you off. "We are getting ready to leave."

"Try to stay out of trouble, Murphy," you said as you nodded and stood up to join her.

"Right back at ya, Daze."

You walked beside Octavia in silence until you approached the rest of the group. The first thing you noticed was Abby shaking her head. "No, absolutely not. I’m sorry Y/N, but you can’t come with us?"

"Why?"

"Because..." her eyes moved to the side where Finn was standing.

"I’ll be a distraction."

The older woman nodded, "there are plenty of ways you can help in camp."

You rolled your eyes. Abby’s tone was patronising but you decided not to think much about it. You hugged Octavia. "Watch what you're doing out there, okay? I need you to come back in one piece."

She chuckled softly, "I always do."

You stepped back to let her pass and felt somebody squeezing your shoulder gently. Spinning round, you smiled, seeing Bellamy staring at you. He looked worried. "You’re not coming?"

"This is one party I’m not invited to."

"Voluntarily?" You didn’t expect to hear the harshness in Bellamy’s voice as he spoke.

"Abby has a point," you said quietly. Something seemed off. Bellamy was more intense than usual. Placing your hand on his, you sighed. "It’s probably for the best that I sit this one out."

You looked back to hear Clarke calling his name. "You need to go. Just…"

He chuckled, "I’ll keep them safe."

You smiled softly before letting his hand go. You watched the small group walk away while finding it hard not to worry.

—

"Hey."

You jumped when you heard somebody talking, dropping the pen and paper that were in your hand. "Jesus Finn, you scared me!"

"Sorry...I’ll leave you to it."

"No, I’m sorry." You sighed, "I just got a fright because I didn’t hear you come in. When did you guys come back?"

"About an hour ago, I was surprised I didn’t see you."

"I’ve been in here doing the food inventory. Is anybody hurt?"

"One of the guards died, but other than that, no," Finn said, leaning against the wall, his head bowed. "We almost got caught by acid fog but everyone managed to hide."

"Then what happened to the guard?" You asked.

"Lincoln killed him. He has been turned into a reaper. The mountain men turned him into one of them."

You stared at Finn's mouth agape while trying to process the information. If mountain men were able to turn Lincoln into a reaper, you dread to think what could be happening to Monty and Jasper. "God, I need to go find Octavia."

"Daisy, can you wait? We need to talk."

A wave of guilt washed over you. "I know we do, but Octavia-"

"O will need me," you said, frowning when Finn cut you off.

"She has Clarke and Bellamy with her."

You picked up the pen and paper you dropped previously in silence. You didn’t know how to talk to him anymore.

"You can’t stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?"

"I’m a monster you're afraid of."

"I don’t think you’re a monster, you just made a really bad judgment call."

The haunted look on his face sent a chill down your spine. "I thought they had you, and everybody else. When I saw Clarke’s father's watch, something just snapped inside me. I can’t explain it."

You look down at the ground, not knowing what to say. You couldn’t imagine the guilt that must have been eating away at him.

"Do you think we can ever get it back? What did we have before?"

Tears threatened to spill from your eyes. "I..I don’t know. So many things have happened, and I hope we can be friends again, but it will take time."

"What I did in the village was wrong, but at the time I thought it was the right thing."

"It's not just about the village..." you couldn't stop crying as your voice broke."You chose her over me."

"Daze…"

"No, don’t keep cutting me off. Do you know how hard it was watching you with somebody else? Especially when you spent the night before with me? I was heartbroken Finn but I kept it together the best I could. You made your choice. You chose Raven over me and expect me to act like nothing happened."

"It wasn’t like that Daisy. Raven means so much to me, I didn’t want to hurt her."

His words stung the same way being physically hurt would. Finn had a big heart, and regardless of how much he cared, you’d always be second best, and you couldn’t settle for it anymore. Hearing footsteps getting closer, you did your best to compose your emotions.

"I need to hand this in, and check on Octavia." You sighed, looking at him, "You still mean a lot to me, Finn. I’ve never stopped caring about you. We just need to take it slow with rebuilding our friendship again."

"Baby steps?"

You chuckled, "baby steps are fine with me."

Season two

Notes:

So here we are at season two, and Daisy has finally started to get the closure that she needs to move on from her relationship with Finn. Thanks again to everyone who’s shared or liked silent bloom so far!!

[writers-worst-nightmare]

Midnight Pleasures:

Pairing(s): Hinata x reader

What: smut

Warning(s): 18+, minors DO NOT INTERACT FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THINGS HOLY, out of character Hinata, a LOT of cussing, me forgetting what the collab was about and having to smash it in the fanfiction in one sentence Because that’s cool

A/N: this is a rich boy collab with @bakugohoex

Word Count: 3,416

Page count: 9.7

Glossary:

y/n = your name

y/f/c = your favorite color

Summery: Hinata is a sub and y/n sucks him off

You weren’t a strange type of person! You weren’t strange at all! In fact, you would say that you where absolutely totally normal. But some people beg to differ.

They say how you will never get a man looking like that, or that you will never get far in life. Or how it was out of hand to want nothing to do with what people where talking about. It wasn’t your fault that you had literally no clue what was going on around you. You had no clue at all! You where like a lost puppy dog fleeing from it’s owner only to realize that the outside world was so much more curt and disgusting.

You didn’t have a lot to say to anybody in school, if you had anything to say you usually shut your mouth. Knowing the school they would probably just discard you as trash or a simp for somebody.

Simp

You hated that word

***

“HEY HINATA!!!” You looked up from your book to see one of your classmates, Hinata, swivel his head away from a TV screen. The screen was playing a volleyball game, but the person holding the remote quickly changed it back to professional ice skating. You looked up and glued your eyes to the screen, watching at each player skated with ease and smoothness. You ice skated also, and got pretty well known in ice skating, but you never thought twice about it. Once you where on the rink, your feet just got the best of you and you skated with little to no thoughts running through your head. The thoughts that usually hammered at your skull and then got almost infused in your brain stopped. Simply because you where ice skating. You loved the feeling of your skated skimming against the ice and the cheers of murmurs from the crowd.

“Y/n…aren’t you coming?” Hinata inquired, you looked up and saw the orange-haired boy stand in front of you. His arms reached out.

You had never been invited to something, especially someone by someone who is as well wealthy as Hinata. You smiled softly and accepted the hand that Hinata gave you.

It had been a rough year in high school for you, and you didn’t even want to go back to middle school drama. So you hoped that college would bring something out in you. Would bring you hope and fulfill your dreams that you had. To not only be the girl who ice skates but the girl who does something. The girl who never gives up, the girl who stands up for people, the girl who—

your thought where rudely cut off by Tanaka, a old friend of yours ramming his head into your chest. You fell back with a Yelp and rubbed your head slightly.

“God fucking dammit Tanaka! Would you leave her alone?!” Hinata spat at Tanaka, the bald male looked taken aback. When he was in high school he didn’t even cuss once (ok well maybe once or twice, but it was very rare for the boy to cuss).

“What are you? Her boyfriend?!” Tanaka challenged, you picked yourself up and began to open your mouth to argue but Hinata again interrupted you.

”So what if I am?!?! What’s it to you, Got a little crush on my girl?” Hinata countered, his brown oak eyes narrowed.

“Why don’t we all just calm down?” You suggested, placing a gentle hand between the two arguing boys. Of course they didn’t listen to you but instead kept on arguing. “WOULD YOU TWO JUST STOP IT?!” You screeched pushing both of them in the opposite direction.

Bout boys stared at you with wide eyes before Hinata awkwardly coughed to break some tension.

”Fuck off.” You sneered at Tanaka, suddenly feeling a overwhelming protection over the orange-haired boy. You wrapped gently hands around Hinata and dragged him away from Tanaka.

“Wow that was amazing y/n-Chan!” Hinata said in pure awe, you shrugged your shoulder and stared ahead. Not making eye contact with the male.

“It’s nothing, really,” you responded. “And also what the hell was that girlfriend thing about?!” You added, Hinata’s face blew up in a blushing mess before he grabbed your wrist and dragged you to the ice rink. Since the college that you went to was known for ice skating a lot of business owners thought it was wise to build a bunch of skating rinks around campus (and they where right to think that).

Once the two do you got to the skating rink Hinata sucked in a breath and pulled out a silver necklace that had a one skate on it. You furrowed your brow in confusion, looking at the silver necklace and looking at Hinata and back at the necklace.

“Don’t worry, you can take it!” Hinata reassured, placing the necklace in your hands. You gasped in shock as you stared at it more closely. Beautiful diamonds laid it on the skate. You put on the necklace, and smiled at Hinata.

“Thank you Hinata!” You exclaimed before hesitating. “But…why did you get me this? I am just a girl that goes to your college…” You asked.

”I admire you…” Hinata confessed before seeing your confused expression and continuing on. “I admire that you have a lot to say yet still keep a pocket face, some people may see that as a weakness but I don’t think it is…” You stared wide eyes at Hinata before tears started to prickle at the corners of your eyes.

“I love you…” you said as you higher Hinata tightly. Hinata hesitated before hugging you back. Curling up into the male of your neck and whispering.

”I love you too princess…”

***

That was how Hinata confessed to you, it had felt right for you. It had felt like the stars aligned perfectly.

You laid on the couch, relaxed and in a comfortable position where anything can happen. You where watching this new anime called Demon Slayer that Kiyoka recommend to you. Saying something along the lines of his hot the guys where. Honestly, you didn’t get the hype, but it was pretty entertaining and you didn’t have anything else better to do then to study and actually get work done so why the hell not? Little did you know a little short orange was about to attack you. That little short orange going by the name of Shoyo Hinata. He was annoying as fuck and you didn’t want him around. “BOO!” Hinata screamed on the top of his lungs, you jumped in fear and pulled out your knife and got ready to stab somebody. Your breath coming out in short puffs as you stared at the chocolate eyed boy.

“You shit head! I was at a scary scene!” You hissed, slapping Hinata on the back of his head like Tanaka’s Mom did to him from time-to-time when the team was over at the angry males house.

“Sorryyy!” Hinata wined, rubbing his head slightly as he mumbled some cussing under his breath. You rolled your y/e/c eyes before staring at the blonde again.

“What do you want?” You asked, annoyance filling your voice and clicking your judgement slightly. The screams of Tanjiro still ringing from the TV.

“Well I had this ADHD burst of energy and I will want to bake a cake but I can’t do it alone because if I do it alone then I will make a mess and then I will clean it up and then I will start cleaning and then—“ Hinata kept on rambling about this whole chain of effects that would happen if you didn’t bake with him. You rolled your eyes and stared him straight in his bright electric brown eyes. You paused for a moment, thinking of ways to shut the male up. An idea popped in your head as you smirked and grabbed the back of Hinata’s neck and drawing him towards your lips. Leaning in closer and kissing his slightly puffy lips. He was wearing the same cherry chapstick that you commented that smelled good before you noticed that Hinata liked you. You always guessed that this was a way for Hinata to get you to notice him. The fight for dominance went on for a few minutes before you took over and pushed him on his back against the couch. The boy gasped between the kiss, his eyes started to water a little at the sudden reaction. Before things to get out of hand you broke the kiss and smiled at Hinata. Keeping a poker face on as you pulled away and swiped away the drool that was connected the two of your mouth’s. You giggled a little, a cocky smile dragging across your face.

“Shut up…” You leaned in and whispered into Hinata’s ear, biting his ear lobe a little and giggling a little as Hinata choked back a moan that was forcing it’s way up his throat.

“Y-yes ma’am…” Hinata whimpered submissively, his lip quivering slightly as you let go of his ear and going towards the dorm room kitchen. Hinata followed you like a lost puppy dog, he would be a good little puppy. You chuckled slightly at the joke that you made up in your head.

“What type of cake do you want to bake?” You prompted, getting the pantry open and seeing what cake mixes you guy’s had and if you needed to go get in a car and drive to the gas ration at this God forbidden hour.

“Oooh chocolate!” Hinata cheered, a childish smile plastered across his face as he bounced up and down. You chuckled and looked across the pantry to see if you guy’s had any chocolate.

“Well,” you started to say, smacking you lips and staring at the pantry with a disappointment look on your face. “Crap.”

“What?”

”We don’t have any chocolate cake mix.”

“Shit.”

You closed the pantry door and went towards your dorm room to grabs out jacket and skateboard. “Wait dude, did you customize your skateboard?” Hinata asked in awe as he stared at your My Hero Acadmia inspired skateboard that had Deku painted on it. You nodded your head ‘yes’ and fully pulled on a y/f/c hoodie.

“Yeah, I started customizing skateboard’s.” You answered Hinata’s question fully and explained it. A smile on your face as you glanced back at the dark-orange haired male as he ran to grab his yellow hoodie and skateboard. His skate board looked plainer then yours but that is probably because he used it more then you did. You smiled brightly at Hinata before going outside of the dorms. Hinata spoked followed and the two of you started skating down the street.

”We should do this more!” Hinata exclaimed, a playful smirk on his face as he started to do more tricks on the skateboard. You laughed at Hinata and started video him for a tiktok. The tiktok was of him singing the lyrics of Alien Boy and having a blast of his time.

“You’re such a dork…” You scoffed as you stopped recording the tiktok and editing it. Not even having to look up to know the way where the gas station was.

“Can you send me the tiktok?” Hinata requested, you looked at him and gave him a ‘are you serious?’ Look before agreeing with a nod of your head and sending the tiktok to him the moment you posted it. You guy’s started to skate more, trying to impress the other by doing some more tricks. But soon, you got to the gas station and stopped the both of your skateboards and set hem down on the outside red brick wall. You and Hinata imminently went to the candy section and got some chocolate box cake along with some different flavors of monster. You bought for everything.

“Did you get everything you where looking for?” The cashier asked, looking at the two of you and smiling tiredly.

”Yeah we did, thanks!” You chirped, getting out your card and paying for the stuff. Hinata grabbed the monster and opened it up as you guy’s grabbed the skateboard the started heading out the front door. Laughing at dumb jokes that you guys cracked with each other.

Hinata and you started following the directions, baking the cake and putting it in the oven and setting the timer for a hour. “There!” You declared, pumping your fist up in the air. Luckily you guy’s could be as loud as you wanted due to the fact that it is Spring Break and everyone went to there parents house. Well everyone but you and Hinata. Your parents never wanted you to begin with, from the very start, they made it very clear that they didn’t want you. So why would you want to got there? Of course the team knows this. The plan was that everyone in the team (and some nekoma people) was going to stay so you won’t have to to alone in the dorms but everyone seemed to have plans.

Some model had a book signing contest so Kuroo just had to go catch up on that, he seemed to be very upset to at he left you and promised that he would call you every night and FaceTime you for hours upon hours. Well, you checked your phone every second it seemed for the past two days and still no sign of Kuroo.

Suga’s parents got into a fight and they got a divorce so Suga had to go home for that. He didn’t seem to sad or caught up about it, although, you swore to yourself that you heard sobs coming from Suga’s dorm room after he told you over text that he couldn’t stay. So far he has texted you every once and a while and checked on you, made sure you where taking care of yourself.

Kiyoka was going to a party and didn’t really seem to care that she was leaving you alone. Not that she was petty or anything she just never seemed to mind if she dropped her plans when they involved you. She gave you a couple of drunk text but nothing more and nothing less.

Tanaka didn’t talk to you about the thing, he said he would be there for you but he left you alone so you didn’t know where he was. Although, from what his Instagram story told you, he has in Disney with his family and having the time of his life.

Yachi got her first new hit for a album of her song covers and needed to leave you. It was very emotional and you could tell that she didn’t want to leave you alone but she had to since her family was struggling and she wanted to make them proud.

But Hinata stayed with you, the whole time, there was not a time that you thought ‘oh, Hinata isn’t going to be there for me’ or ‘oh, I can’t count on Hinata to be here’ because he always was and he always will be right by your side. Ever since the two of you where kids and Hinata got his first volleyball, you still remember that day, he went to hug his best friend but but the friend didn’t want a hug because the kid claimed volleyball was for kids. He cried for hours and hours in class and (from what you heard) in his own home. Refusing to hug anybody until he got into middle school and you came along. You guys had known each other due to your parents working together in the same hero agency but you never started building a friendship until middle school. A lot of people say that relationships end in middle school but I reality. That is when Hinata and yours started to bloom.

“Remember when you first got your volleyball?” You popped up, laughing a little as the tips of Hinata’s ears turned a flush red.

“HEY I THOUGHT WE AGREED TO NEVER TALK ABOUT THAT!” Hinata pouted, crossing his arms and trying to be mad at you.

“Oh ok…I am sorry…” You whispered in a pretend hurt voice, knowing full well that Hinata will come crawling back to you once you had the slight hurt tone in your voice.

“Wait no! Baby!! Come here!!” Hinata exclaimed, wrapping you in a warm hug, you burst into laughter and hugged Hinata back. Feeling bad for the brown eyed male for the millionth time in your life (no but like seriously, how did this man get you to feel bad about everything?)

“Its fine Hinata.” You reassured the worried man with some pats on the head and a kiss on the forehead. Hinata smiled innocently at you before pushing you against the couch. “Oof!” You gasped as you felt he fabric press against your back. Hinata smirked in accomplishment.

“GOT YOU!” Hinata declared proudly, trying to pin you down on your back. You cocked your left brow up slightly upwards and flipped you and Hinata over so you where on top and he was on bottom. Hinata whined and bit his lip, eyes looking at you in a pleading sort of way. You smirked seductively and leaned down to kiss Hinata. Your lips crashing with his, biting the male’s slightly pink lips to ask for entrance (which he obeyed instantly). You slipped your tongue into the wet cavern of Hinata’s mouth and started exploring every inch of it and sucking on his tongue a little bit. Hinata moaned into the kiss and started grinding his body against your pants and whining like a submissive bitch. You chuckled darkly and brought your hand to mess with his hair before yanking his hair and making him break the kiss. A string of saliva connected your two mouths and you just swiped it off and shoved your fingers inside of Hinata. Smiling slightly as he gagged.

“Want me to suck your dick slut?” Your horse whisper sounded in Hinata’s ear as you bite his ear lobe and tugged on it slightly. Hinata nodded his head ‘yes’ before letting out a string of moans. You smirked in accomplishment of breaking the presumably top male who flirted with all the girls at school. You pulled down Hinata’s sweatpants and boxers in one Swift motion all while keeping eye contact with him. Going down on your knee’s you opened your mouth and started sucking Hinata off. Your tongue swirling around his head as you slowly started going deeper and deeper until you felt it go to the back of your throat. Once you felt that your head bobbed up and down, Hinata moaned loudly and threw his head back in pure pleasure. Mumbling out praises and barely forming a sentence. You smiled to yourself as you reached down and started rubbing circles along your clit, you tongue almost lolling out to the side of Hinata’s dick at the pleasure of hitting the sweet spot.

“You’re such a girl girl yeah you suck my dick yeah you suck that dick so well yeah you do…” Hinata managed to say before moaning loudly again at the sight of you touching your self and sucking him off. He is in complete heaven. You felt Hinata’s thighs tense up around your head and you stared up at him. Expecting him to say something. “I’m gonna cum…!” Hinata mumbled out before moaning again and letting his sex face out. You moaned around Hinata’s dick and that caused both of you to cum at the same time. You guy’s where a panting mess on the floor. Hinata had his legs spread wide and your head was all fuzzy and not cleared out with good thoughts. You guy’s stood there, a few comfortable in the air as both of you where a shaking mess. Soon, you got up and carried Hinata to the other corner of the couch and grabbed a large fluffy gray blanket along with some large pillows. On nights like these, Hinata liked it if you took charge in the aftercare stuff. Not even letting you two get changed until the morning. You smiled warmly at the goofy male who laid there on the couch, almost fast asleep, while you played Death Note (he says it is to scary so you like watching it when he is asleep or cuddling with you).

“Hey baby?”

”What’s up orange?”

“Did we ever get that cake out of the oven?”

”…”

”…”

”Shit.”

[sirensmojo]

"KINDRED",3 - Tommy Shelby x Reader.

Summary: Tommy meets a librarian that he discovered to be the chief of an underground organisation. Needing man enough allies to dirty their hands in the battle against Oswald Mosley, he shakes hands with the devil. Feelings intertwine with business, a mix that leads to unalterable ends...

Warnings: Swearing, drugs, romance, drama & cheating.

Word Count: 5K

❰ ​Previous Chapter

*Shelby Brother Company Limited, Birmingham*

“Michael’s a pain in the ass.”

You and Tommy were seated one in front of the other in Tommy’s office, it was almost midnight.

You both stared at each other after your affirmation, the need to formulate words obsolete, when all of a sudden, a hiccup hit your throat.

“Wow.” Your brows raised, along with your free hand, patting over your chest.

Only the booze could bring them to talk, but they would forget everything the next morning, or that, they pretended so. Everything the other would say was rooted in the other’s heart, as a prize.

“I could maybe try something.” You calmly spoke, as if a flash of thunder lightning struck some idea into you.

You two had dirty hands and were capable of taking care of yourselves, but those past three, you got each other’s back.

Without knowing it, you were keeping a close eye on the business of the other just in case.

If the Peaky Blinder found something wrong concerning your business, he would take care of it, in the shadows of course.

No need to tell you he quite cared when he wasn't sure himself.

It was also working the other way, you had ears at each side of the continent, you what had happened to the Shelby politician without him telling you, and straightened back up every shaky thing.

“ ‘Bout what?” Tommy asked, pouring some more whiskey in the cup resting in your other hand.

‘The two partners trying to get rid of Mosley’ had become an excuse. The silence each brought to the other was addictive, and the days between each meeting only amplified that obsession.

“Speak sense to his wife. Given the situation, I think both the weak and tuff points of Michael’s scheme are her.”

Tommy frowned, thinking deeper about what you told. You weren’t entirely wrong, he doubted Michael would’ve betrayed him without the support of somebody.

“He was pushed to one side, a little push to the other one will make him think right.” Y/L/N got further.

An evening meeting was programmed weekly.

You started meeting at the library during the first week. Then, the Shelby Brother Company Limited’s office, catching the attention of another member of the Shelby family.

“You think it’ll be this easy?” The peaky blinder asked, sprinkling ash onto the ashtray that was on the table that separated you two.

“It’ll have to.” You responded.

Polly was the first one to confront Tommy directly about the presence of a very well dressed woman far too often in the offices.

“Her hair is nice.” She added, smoking on her cig looking intently at Tommy's gleaming eyes at the mention of the so-called “librarian”.

Because that was how he presented Y/N. A girl from an aristocratic family searching for exoticism and bought a library.

He and you were to work together solely due to his status at the House of Commons, none more none less.

But the Gray woman knew better, even if she refused to push the matter further.

“May God keep Arthur away from her, he’ll eat her for his lunch.” Pol’ tease before she shook her head at her own statement as Tommy coughed away this whole discussion.

(...)

Three knocks could be heard on the Gray’s room door in the Midland hotel.

The entrance opens, “Told you I’ll join you in a minute, Gin--” Michael’s voice stopped as soon as his wife abruptly pushed her shoulders to his to enter the room.

“What are you doing?” One of his hands was in his suit pocket, the other one grabbing the door handle.

She hassled to the phone, dialling a number without even glancing at the Gray.

“Gina?” Asked the man, looking intently at the movements of the woman, blinking slowly.

She refused to address him, waiting patiently until the person she was calling responded.

“What is going on? What do you mean our contacts were offered another deal?”

Michael went closer, and as he was sitting on the desk chair, leaning backwards on it, he started to understand what was going on.

“Anyway, we can still offer them to prosper durably, that man can’t say the same, right?”

She rolled her eyes at herself after remaining silent for some minutes, she was listening to the individual at the end of the line.

It was more than clear she was done with everything.

She wasn’t even slightly “happy” to be in the shit hole that was Birmingham as she, herself, qualified multiple times. The only reason she was here was that Michael didn’t want to properly betray his cousin.

He convinced her to come here and resonate with Tommy about a “normal succession”, but she knew damn well it wouldn’t work. Why would he give everything he spent so much time to gather under the pretext of succession?

Tommy wasn’t the type to give up things, for any reason.

And now that they were away from New York, their allies already started to forget about their promises…

Why did she even agree to let Tommy a chance?

“He didn’t fall for Michael’s plan. We will have to do it our way.” She seemed happy at least, to finally be able to handle the matter how she wanted to, which was the only good news about this call.

When the receptionist asked for her at the restaurant, she’d expected to be told all was ready there and that Michael would only have to give the order for the plan to begin. But no.

Gina hung up the phone before she lifted her eyes to her husband that was staring at her, patiently waiting.

“It was my uncle, some man going by the name of Haynes met with all of our contacts, offering them a greater alliance directly with the Chinese, without needing us as intermediaries.” She finally spoke.

The younger Gray looked away, clenching his jaw as a hand came over his face. He let out a long sigh, his body voicing his displeasure. But his wife’s hand came on his shoulder as she leaned on his back, and murmured near his ear:

“But. He says it’s looking like the perfect time to launch plan B, baby.” She grabbed his chin as she turned around to stand in front of him.

“He says it’ll show them we can also ‘bang’ if it’s needed. It’ll be like showing our hand, and in this case, this is the thing to do.”

One of her hands was on Michael’s thigh as the other was still holding his face so he was looking at her. It was a way to say “focus on me” without actually saying it.

As the man was diving into her brown eyes, it seemed she succeeded at keeping him from thinking too much. She gave answers before he could even formulate questions.

By his silence, Gina surmised Michael still wasn’t sure about the plan.

“We did it your way Michael, coming all the way up here to your cousin’s chaotic decisions. Things need to get in order, baby. And it seems like you’re the one that cares enough to do so.” The words left her mouth so lightly as she straightened up and turned her back to her husband.

“We need to go back to America as soon as possible. You promised our child will be born there.” She added, glancing at him above her shoulder.

(...)

Arthur and the boys had convinced Tommy to relax at the Garrison after a long day. Even though it was the last thing he wanted to do, he slammed the doors open to a packed place.

Ahead of them were approximately twenty women, all dolled up as if coming from the Eden club in London. Very short hair with the golden headband with feathers, embroidered pearls on their cotton dresses made it known they were from high society.

Some of them were dancing in the middle of the room, while others were singing on the counter zigzagging between glasses and bottles.

It was the first time Tommy had seen most of those people.

He was actively searching their faces trying to locate the reason for their presence when his eyes confirmed his thought. You were dancing, turning on yourself holding the hand of a taller woman.

You had on a black & red dress going down to your knees with a black and gold headband that flattened your hair, forcing your finger waves to frame your face. Your slow and haunting movements were wrinkling the fabrics, complementing your silhouette.

As you were spinning around, the fringes of your dress were flying in the air as well as your hair, adding to your alluring dance.

Your cheeks, certainly reddened by the alcohol and your half-opened eyes due to you boozing with the huge grin that illuminated your face, made Tommy’s eyes twinkle. As if it was a beautiful night sky full with stars he was looking at.

“Who’s that Tommy?” Arthur questioned entering right after the Shelbys head.

“Get in the room, I’ll bring the bottles.” Tom’s low voice ordered as he motioned to the little room near the counter.

Finn and Isaiah hassled to the room without wasting any more minutes, too appealed by the idea of getting drunk while Arthur leaned to his brother’s ear.

“Look at that butterfly Tommy, isn’t she lovely?” He asked after he caught the reason for Tommy's order.

The latter dismissed the discomfort with a rough cough, turning to his brother.

“What about you fetch the bottles, eh?” He simply put, and that was enough for Arthur to leave it there.

“Whiskey for the peaky boys!” He exclaimed as he patted Tommy’s shoulder. He managed his way behind the counter, after which, he took what he was searching for and disappeared behind the large doors of the little room he closed behind himself.

Tom stayed there, looking at you for some time trying to understand which one of the facades he had seen was the real you.

You were now sitting on your friend's lap, legs crossed, your lips were alternating between a long cigarette holder and a glass of what Tommy surmised to be whiskey knowing the character.

Giving up on searching for an answer, he turned his heels and joined his brothers as if nothing had happened.

(...)

Coming out of the car, you looked both ways before crossing the street and joining the large wooden door, a hand in your suit’s pocket, the other leading a cigarette to your lips.

You pushed in the door and were met by two pairs of eyes. A tall young white man, with a dark-skinned one, wearing berets.

Without second glancing at them, you confidently walked to the stairs at the end of the large room, making this place your own.

Your heels resonated on the cold hard ground, and as they did, each man in the building turned to you, staring in both awe and confusion.

Coming down the stairs, you passed by the three little training rings before you sat down at a little table in front of one of them. It was two men fighting, one who had a luxuriant moustache hiding his upper lips, freckles sprinkling his face.

He was screaming at the other one with a thick Birmingham accent, “Come ‘ere, boy.”

“Hit me! Hit me!” His tone was louder each time.

The poor man ahead of him didn’t dare to punch, which he certainly regretted after he received a strong right fist in the jaw.

Only a couple punches later the loud man succeeded at putting down the other that was wincing in pain.

“Yeaa” The moustache man exclaimed before being interrupted by one of the two boys you saw earlier.

“Arthur! There’s a--” He stopped dead at the sight of you, and you put your cig in between your lips as you got up, beginning to applause.

The sound resonated against the walls as no one was making any noise. You grabbed back the cigarette with your fingers and moved closer.

“Do you fight? I know great opponents,” you paused, feigning to think. “not so sure they will stand even for a round with you.” You clicked your tongue, tilting your head.

They both looked at you up and down for a whole minute before the named Arthur opened his mouth, even if still struggling to properly breathe, he smacked his lips as his hands went flattening his hair.

“Searching for exotism, love?” He grabbed the towel he was handed by a small chubby man with a hat. “Bet you liked what ya see.” Arthur decided to make it normal for a woman to come to sit and watch men fight.

“Indeed.” You let out, a curious gleam in your eyes.

He turned to the man on his side that leaned in his ear, murmuring something.

Arthur let out a deep “Hmm” before he got out of the ring.

He glanced at you and decided to keep up the talk.

“I don’t fight like this, it’s just for---”

“Fun?” You interrupted him, your eyes still fixed on his figure. His stare encountered yours before he put on a shirt. He grabbed the filled cup off the table.

“Curly, Tommy needs you in Charlie’s yard. Finn, you go with them.” He was pointing at the men and to the door up the stairs as if dismissing them.

So the man handed him things was going by “Curly” and the boy, Finn.

“What you doing here? It’s not some place for you.” He buttoned up his pants.

You scoffed at his affirmation, leading him to look up at you.

“I like some good fights, is that forbidden, Mr Shelby?” You came nearer, throwing the rest of your cig in his cup.

You were standing right in front of him, taking the bow tie hanging on the half wall of the ring and slowly led it to his neck. He took a step back, but you stepped forward, blocking him against the ring sides.

“You know Tommy?” Arthur felt the need to say something, the situation being extremely odd to him.

You gently put in place the bow and looked up to Arthur’s face, from his pale skin to his eyes. You stayed there a whole minute, analyzing his soul throughout the blue spring sky of his glassy eyes.

“I’d like to see you fight more. In real rings, Arthur. Why don’t you use the boxing place, it’s not far from here.” You turned your heels, walking back to the chair.

He looked at your figure, his eyes blankly fluttering for a moment. Needless to say, the minute you stared at him was displeasing, he was feeling as if he was robbed of something.

He ignored the warning and grabbed his boots, before he installed himself on the other chair around the little table, wanting to hear more about your offer.

“You fight good, but with some real training you could be something else.” You offered him a cigarette that he refused.

You were testing him from the very moment you put your feet in this cave, from checking how to open his mind was to his relation with poison such as cigarettes.

And now that you know everything you need to know, you could offer something.

“You’re some sort of agent?” He asked, intrigued.

You shook your head “Did you ever imagine women fighting? Just like you did, perhaps slightly better” You questioned, teasing him on the end.

His only response was to look at you in disbelief, and you bet he didn’t even understand what you told him.

“There is a world that exists, right here in Birmingham. Wanna go out and see?” You motioned your head toward the door, inviting him to agree with you.

It wasn’t that hard to convince the elder Shelby brother, he was always open to seeing more of life. Even if that meant to beat the shit outta people, get drunk, fuck the whole city or drowning in drugs.

The thing with Arthur was that he wasn’t careful enough, what told him it wasn’t a trap and that he will not get kidnapped or even killed if he followed you? Nothing. Nothing was ever sure with him, but leaving on the edges was something like his daily prayer, so of course he said yes.

Why in the hell would he say no? Tommy could do without him today.

(...)

Tommy had an unexpected visit from Churchill himself. It seemed like the latter had taken a liking to the head of the Shelbys.

“Do what you have to do, Mr Shelby.” Were Churchill’s words toward the reason for his visit, Mosley.

Indeed, he had thought out a concrete plan. And surprisingly, it was thanks to the books you sent him over the weeks, it was almost worth getting harassed by her over the primar book.

The plan was simple, Mosley will make a speech a week and a half from now, the 6th, in Bingley hall. Taking advantage of an anti-fascist demonstration during the rally, an old war comrade named Barney will shoot, and to be cleared of any suspicion, Thomas will be standing right next to Mosley at the time of his death, making sure he’ll take the head of the fascist union.

Today’s meeting was to explain details of the plan and what needed to be done before the d-day, but Tom didn’t see his brother during the entire day and when he’d asked the boys he was responded that Arthur stayed training some more.

It was hard at times, even for him to understand his older brother.

Not that he wanted to, but normally Arthur would never miss a meeting. The only times he didn’t show up were when he was overwhelmed with dark thoughts, and it wasn’t the right time for something like that to occur.

He decided to come to the pub, hoping to see his brother there, drunk, but not in a random cave trying to end his life.

Tom opened the Garrison’s doors, coughing at the amount of smoke coming in his face. He squinted his eyes, at first searching for a fire, but the more smoke entered his nostrils, the more he recognized the smell of apples and red fruits.

“Arthur, what the hell?” he called.

The place was crowded but Tommy’s eyes were focused on his brother, installed at the table near the windows.

He walked to the table and motioned to the windows. “Open one of these.” He ordered, but his brother didn’t see nor hear him. He was too occupied smoking on what seemed like a pipe with a long tube from where came the smoke.

“Oi!” Tommy yelled.

As everyone around the table turned to him, his eyes met with someone he would’ve never expected to be here.

Y/N was previously actively discussing with some girls when someone shouted into her ear.

You stared at Tommy for what seemed an eternity, he doing the same, both asking themselves what the other was doing here.

“Tommy!” His brother exclaimed, louder than he needed to. But this one was too occupied looking at you to even glance toward his brother, that well noticed the stare between you two.

Arthur managed to get up and pat his brother’s shoulder, welcoming him properly.

That’s when he turned to him, incredulous. His icy blue eyes were piercing his brothers, relentlessly.

“Welcome to the new Birmingham, brother!” Arthur seemed ecstatic. “Did you fucking know there were women fighting too, Tommy?”

“What the fuck are you talking about, Arthur.” His brother shook his head, still looking at him.

“Boxing, he saw women boxing for the first time.” You entered the conversation to Tommy's displeasure. He looked over you blankly.

“What the fuck is this?” He pointed to the thing Arthur was smoking from previously.

“It’s called a hookah. Or a shisha in percian.” You responded even though he decided to ignore you for who knows what reason.

“Come on, brother, it’s the good life, isn’t it?” Arthur asked, seeing the face of Tommy next to him.

He ultimately pointed back to the windows, “Open those.” Was all he said before turning back and leaving the pub.

“Sergent Major!” You authoritatively called, the heavy Garrison’s doors making a thud as they closed behind you.

The stars were twinkling dimly in the bright sky, cleared of any cloud. It added phlegm to the frenzied atmosphere between the two individuals.

He was already walking in the opposite direction but immediately stopped at the mention of his Small Heath Rifles’ rank.

Thomas turned back. “What did you say?”

You decide to ignore him and start walking to him.

Each of your steps snapped with the fortitude of an army. And the fineness with which you balance your weight from one foot to the other could bewilder the fiercest individuals, that, he knew.

Not a single ounce of hesitation nor apprehension in your movements.

But the most unsettling thing Tommy found about you was your facial expression. It wasn’t closed off or concentrated, quite the reverse, the spark settling behind your iris could light up any type of darkness and you were undoubtedly giving slices of life to each person you would smile to.

The addition of your features creating a delicate dimension where it was possible to believe the best things could happen.

At that moment, Tom wished he hadn’t seen you at that library. You were something he couldn’t overfly even if he dared to. But for some reasons he wasn’t able to move on, swayings seizing his entire being, physically as well as mentally.

There was just something about this, him and you.

“What the hell did you think, you that act like the most intelligent of all fucking Birmingham and beyond. My fucking brother doesn’t need none of that!” Tommy wasn’t screaming, but you could hear in his deep tone the anger rooted in his throat.

“He doesn’t need it or you don’t want him to have it, Thomas?” You calmly stated, which made him turn his back at you, passing a hand over his face.

You were pushing him to the edge and that made you laugh, which you didn’t even try to muffle.

He turned back to you, eyebrows raised.

“You wanted this.” He pointed you with his index.

He was accusing you of wittingly driving him crazy and you couldn’t even deny it.

You grabbed his finger with your own hand and pushed it down without releasing it.

“No, I counted on it.” You started, your lips curling into a smile that didn’t escape Tommy’s gaze.

“Life’s a succession of wars, Tom. But soldiers too need to relax.”

No one had ever put a finger on that nerve, but here he was, gazing longingly into your orbs, your words resonating within him.

You wasn’t only talking about Arthur and the fact he needed to be distracted to stay away from dark thoughts. You were also talking about him, that didn’t have to take care of everything as you were there now to handle some of it.

“I promise you I know what I’m doing.”

He leaned backwards, looking at you with an unreadable expression.

Why were you promising things now? The last time you two were that close, it was you that ran away, and now you were the one initiating things to drift from professional to personal.

You sighed and looked down. That’s when you realized both your hands were locked together.

You frowned, remaining silent. You were shocked, but not as much as you should. You weren’t totally stupid, the feelings settling in you were pretty clear once you stopped pushing them aside.

Soon enough he followed your stare, noticing the thing as well.

Both of you released at the same time, looking at everything but the other.

Tommy coughed, fighting the will to be the one saying something in this situation. But he didn’t want you to escape him again this time.

“I’m dealing with Arthur, you don’t have to put your nose in my affairs. It’s not part of the deal.”

You’d preferred he hadn’t spoken. You rolled your eyes at yourself before throwing him the “really?” look.

“You can’t even deal with Michael and you’re telling me you’re dealing with Arthur.” You scoffed, putting a hand on your lips to muffle the sound of your laugh.

His body relaxes at your gigglings.

“Who the fuck do you think you’re foolin’?” You couldn’t hold the laugh back any more.

He didn’t respond, nor act on what you just said. He just stares at you, filled with joy at the simple sight of you being vulnerable.

A smile drew at the corner of your lips when you stopped mocking him.

Your eyes fluttered of wellness, as he was just standing close, doing nothing else than breathing.

Tommy grabbed a cig and put it in between his lips, but you hassled to steal it and lock it between yours.

He glanced at you, raising his brows. He was done with you that was for sure. But not in a bad way. You were playing a game and you won the match.

He came lightening up your cig as watching you take a deep and slow puff on it.

You started to walk, going deeper into the street and he started to do the same.

(...)

Michael and Gina were coming back from the restaurant. It was the first time the husband took his wife out to eat in Birmingham as she, obviously, wasn’t a fan of the city.

They didn’t see the time’s flying and it was already ten when they reached the wide glass doors of the hotel.

As they entered it, they noticed it was almost pinched black inside, the only source of brightness emanating from little orangish lights hanging on the walls behind the counter.

Michael glanced left to right at the place, no one to be seen, or so he thought. It was only when Gina stepped foot in, that he glimpsed figures coming out of the dark spots.

They were moving fast, getting nearer the American woman before his husband could do anything to protect her.

“Gina!” Was all he said before she disappeared outside the front doors of the hotel along with the individuals.

(...)

Tommy stops the engine looking straight ahead.

You were looking outside the window, to your large mansion. You managed to glance at the man before opening the door. You were gauging his reaction, almost testing the water all while maintaining the silence.

As the tension couldn’t get higher, you stepped out. You began to move away from the car when you heard its door open, followed by the clearing of a throat you knew too well.

Tommy’s steps on the gravel came nearer and nearer. When you turned the keys in the lock they were right behind. You opened the heavy wooden entry and got in, letting the door open.

The man entered behind your and turned his back at you, closing the door. When he turned back at the entrance, Y/N had disappeared.

He stepped deeper in the house, and joined the living room, where he glimpsed at your figure, your air resting at your back, your fingers over a note on the table.

Tom got closer to you, grabbing your elbow with the tip of his fingers, looking at the paper you seemed focused on.

Done.

You quickly glanced around, as if making sure you were alone. You then turned to him, raising your palm to his cheek, a gentle touch that he didn’t expect, making his lids slowly fluttering.

You took a step forward, leaned towards him and fondled his nose with the end of your own before leading your fingers to his lips.

You closed your eyes, rooting yourself at this moment and forgetting about the library, high society, Mosley, Michael and everything that stood between you.

He was the one to initiate the kiss, the call for you being louder than any other things at the moment. One of his hands slid to the hollow of your back as the other was grabbed by hers.

Fingers intertwined together, breath mixed, lips pressed against one another, heartbeats speeding and a thousand seconds later, you pulled away, slowly raising your gaze to Tommy’s.

The weight this kiss meant dropped on Tom’s shoulder as he, without hesitation, came to taste again the sweet flavour of your lips. You gasped at the connection, the eagerness of the feeling inside your stomach being fed.

You were breathing loudly in his mouth, your hands now grabbing Tommy’s clothes shamelessly.

They both knew there was no turning back and that things got more complicated than they needed to be, but none of them pulled away nor hesitated for even a slight second.

Following Chapter ❱

[reidology]

Friend, please don't take your life away from me

Summary: The last thing Spencer was expecting to find when opening the victim’s bathroom cabinet was that familiar little brown bottle, a Dilaudid label stuck to it.

Pairing: Hotchreid

Word count: 1.6k

CW: implied/referenced past drug use, drug craving, hurt/comfort

AO3

Spencer had spent more time than he’d like to admit on kicking his heroin addiction. He put in countless hours into getting better, getting sober, because he knew he had to be there for his mother. And for his team. He couldn’t let himself deteriorate any further and let down the people he loves the most, they were his only family. It took a long time for the cravings to stop appearing at any minor inconvenience, even longer for the headaches to fade and the arm-scratching habit to cease. It’s been years since Hankel, and years since he last used, and he was incredibly proud of himself.

But goddamn did it take every single ounce of energy and willpower that Spencer had just to function every day. He was clean, but he’d always be scarred, and he’d feel that little sliver of temptation deep in the folds of his brain for the rest of his life. He’s taken every precaution possible since; limited painkillers, no narcotics, no alcohol, but most importantly, he flushed out every drop of Dilaudid he had down the toilet and never looked back. Needless to say, Spencer was prepared. He knew to just say no, to turn around and walk away.

The team had driven down to the suburbs to check out the current crime scene. The house was a two-story picture-perfect family home with a spacious backyard and vegetable garden. This was definitely somebody’s dream home. Upon arrival, each person split up to different areas of the house, Spencer took the master bedroom. He noticed the king size bed, the flowing flower-laden curtains, the dented bookshelves lining the walls, the empty spaces filled with tasteful artistic decor. Nothing seemed unusual or out of place, so he moved on to the en suite, the door closing softly behind him. He began searching the area for any clues. The bathtub was clean and empty, perfectly folded towels hung up on a hanger. The drawers held the standard married-couple bathroom products. The last thing Spencer was expecting to find when opening the victim’s bathroom cabinet was that familiar little brown bottle, a ‘Dilaudid’ label stuck to it.

He shocked himself when he realized that, instinctively, he’d started reaching for it, without even registering what the bottle was. He lowered his arm and stood there, unable to take his eyes off of the shelf. It seemed the vile was staring back, mocking him, innocently resting there. Oh, wouldn’t it be so easy to just… take it? To put it in his pocket and walk away. Who would know? Everyone, he thinks. They’ll all notice if I start using again, they know the signs to look for. But what does that matter? Here and now, what would be so wrong about taking it? He wouldn’t use it, he doesn’t even have a needle, he just wants to hold it…

A thumping sound coming from the bedroom shook Spencer from his daze. Blinking, he looked around the bathroom to remember what he was doing. He locked eyes with himself in the mirror, he looked pale, a deer-in-the-headlights expression written across his face. It was then that he noticed his hand was wrapped around the small bottle, resting at his side, gripping so tightly his knuckles turned white. Oh god. He felt terrified of himself, he didn’t know what he would do, couldn’t possibly predict what his next moves would be. Slowly, so agonizingly slowly, Spencer set the bottle down onto the edge of the sink, but didn’t let go. He was still holding on tightly, his other hand fisting the rim of the sink with just as much force. He was so close… could feel the liquid burning in his veins, could recall the scent of it, how good it felt… Stop it, he orders to himself, Let go and back away. Let go! Let go! Let me go! LET ME GO!

When his eyes opened once again his knees were on the floor, his breathing was labored and erratic. How did he get down here? When had his eyes closed? The tiles were cold and dirty, his cheeks wet with sweat and tears, his hair stuck to his forehead. And the bottle- the heroine was- still there. Cradled to his chest, wherein his head was also tucked. Rocking back and forth onto his heels, he thought, I can’t do this, I need someone.

“Hotch…”, he muttered lowly. One shallow breath, and he repeated, “Hotch.” “Hotch! Hotch!”, Spencer all but sobbed out, each inhale stuttering violently. “Hotch! Please! Please help me, Hotch, please…”

The bathroom door flew open and in pounced Hotch, aiming his gun, steady. “Reid?” He looked down to Spencer on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably and clutching something tightly to his chest.

“Reid, what’s wrong?”, he asked desperately as he crouched down to Spencer’s level, putting a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to steady him.

“Hey, shh... shh… it’s alright Spencer. What’s going on? Talk to me,” Now kneeling down in front of him, he wrapped one arm around the younger man’s shoulders.

Spencer continued to cry but he lifted his head up to look at Hotch. He shook his tightly coiled hands towards the other man and let out a broken “Help,” before leaning his forehead onto Aaron’s shoulder, “don’t let me take it.”

Hotch soothed his hands into Reid’s hair and shushed him comfortingly, “Okay, okay. Shhh it’s okay, you’re okay, Spence, I’m here to help you, you’re okay…”

Spencer was so wound up, stiff and erratic, his hold on the bottle was so tight, Aaron just needed him to calm down a little and relax his muscles so he could take away whatever was in his hands. It was so hard seeing his best friend like this. He’d never seen him in such a helpless state. Spencer had always appeared so strong around others, because it was the one thing that he was constantly underestimated for. No one expected Spencer Reid to be strong and resilient, to hold his own. But he’d proved them wrong time and time again, it never ceased to amaze Aaron. Even when Spencer was staring down the barrel of Hankel’s revolver, the man hadn’t shown any weakness. When Hankel pulled the trigger, the genius hadn’t even flinched, just maintained eye contact and said ‘Shoot’. But now here he was, a mess on the victim’s bathroom floor and all Aaron knew to do was hold him close until his sobs stopped and his breathing mellowed out.

After a few minutes of the older agent trying to comfort him by petting his hair and back, and whispering into his hair that he’ll be okay; Spencer’s body finally started to relax under Aaron’s. Aaron could begin to push apart Reid’s fingers. He pressed their foreheads together and took the younger’s soft hands into his own rough bigger ones. Aaron looked at Spencer’s closed eyes and caressed his smaller hands, loosening the tension little by little. When Spencer’s hands finally fell open onto his lap, Hotch moved in quickly to scoop up what was in them. He initially recognized the object as a pill bottle. He looked at the label and froze, his stomach dropped and his guts twisted.

Suddenly, he had to stand up. He needed to get this bottle far far away from his precious friend. Spencer remained motionless and exhausted on the floor, “Dump it out, in the sink”, he muttered, sounding so exhausted, resigned,

“Please Aaron just dump it out.”

Hotch’s expression didn’t give anything away, he knew he had to get this done for Reid, he could overthink this later. He headed to the sink and dumped out the bottle, then tossed the empty glass into the bathtub, shattering it. Making sure none of it could be used. He glanced back at Reid on the floor and immediately went to him, wrapped him up in his arms as tightly as possible. Spencer fell back into his chest and hugged back just as desperately, some tears coming back to dampen Aaron’s bulletproof vest.

“It was so easy, Hotch… It was so easy to just give in to temptation. Even after all these years, even after how hard I’ve worked, I still- I’m still an addict. I couldn’t control myself! I couldn’t control my body!” Spencer said cried into the man’s shoulder, hands fisted into his shirt.

“No, Reid, no,” Aaron whispered into Reid’s hair, “You’re so strong, that was so strong of you. You asked for help, thank you thank you thank you for that. I love you, Spence. I love you and I’m so proud of you...”

Reid tucked his head further into Aaron’s neck, hair tickling his chin. The older man took a deep breath in and brought his finger up to gently push the younger man’s hair out of his eyes.

“I’m proud of you,” he whispered tracing his finger down to Spencer’s chin and lifting his face up to look into his eyes. He leaned in and took Spencer’s lips into his own for a long, passionate kiss. Everything that needed to be said what said in that one endless moment. Spencer whimpered and pressed in closer, his tears smudging onto Aaron’s cheeks. They pulled away and Aaron took the younger’s face into his own hands, wiping away the tears, “I mean it,” he whispered into his lips, “I love you.”

Spencer looked up into his lover’s coffee yes and responds, “Thank you for helping me, Aaron, I love you too.” Aaron smiled down at the boy he loved and kissed him again. They remained there, on the cold bathroom tiles holding each other, for a while longer.

[puppywritings]

you make it feel like christmas - kim doyoung x gender-neutral reader 

⇢   synopsis: when you entered your job a few years ago, you found your best friend, doyoung. the two of you were partners-in-crime, platonic soulmates. however, during a drunken phone call with doyoung’s mother, she catches the wrong idea and invites you to spend christmas with their family… as doyoung’s partner. ever the mama’s boy, doyoung doesn’t want to disappoint her. and you? you’re counting down the days until you can stop this lovers pretence and slap your best friend upside the head.

⇢   word count: 5.6k ⇢   trigger warnings: alcohol use resulting in minor memory loss, swearing, slight suggestive references. this piece is suitable for all audiences! 

⇢   a/n: this is my piece for @pastelsicheng​ and @dearyongs​‘ a taste of winter collab. quick disclaimer that doyoung’s family in this fic may not represent his real life family situation, however this is a work of fiction and isn’t meant to mirror real life. i don’t know doyoung, nor do i know his mother, and the characters represented in this writing are fictitious versions of them. furthermore, the christmas traditions depicted in this story are mainly based on my own experiences celebrating the holidays in england.

⇢   taglist: @hunjins​ @ahgase55g7​ @mmoondance​ @notnctu​ @orange-nimon-cross​ @yeoshwa​ @infnteen​ @neonun-au​ @luvlala​ @neo-shitty​ @yutacrush​ @ethaeriyeol​ @fairyinaflowercrown​ @in-my-neofeelings​ @dreamieofu​

"All I want for Christmas is youuu, baby!"

Doyoung's voice was almost deafening in your ear, which would've been a problem if you were sober. Your voice, too, merrily drunk and far too loud, belted out the holiday tunes. Your best friend's arm was slung around your shoulder, and yours was around his waist. It was like the blind leading the blind, however; neither of you were keeping your balance very well. The two of you staggered together, navigating the city's streets back to his apartment.

The Christmas party that your office held would have been okay without your favourite coworker - you would've had a good time and enjoyed yourself, sure. But with Doyoung's presence, paired with the copious amounts of alcohol, it had been a riot. Even if you had peaked too early and had to depart by 11pm. 

Doyoung was, undoubtedly, the best part about your job. The workload wasn't overwhelming, nor was it tedious, and the salary was nothing to sneeze at. But, without a shadow of a doubt, the best thing your job had ever provided you with was the opportunity to meet your best friend. Doyoung was your platonic soulmate, and your favourite person.

"Hey," Doyoung slurred, calling out to you suddenly. "Is that your ringtone?"

Squinting, you listened closely. "No, Doie," you hiccupped. "I think that's your ringtone."

"Oh, shit,'' Doyoung mumbled, diving into his coat pocket to retrieve his ringing phone. "My mom! She's facetiming."

Your vision was blurred, but you very vaguely saw Doyoung answer the call, bringing up his mother's image on his phone screen. Though you’d been best friends with Doyoung for a few years, you’d never met her. Doyoung lived and worked alongside you in the city, but his mother lived a while away in the countryside, and so your paths had never crossed.

"Hi Mom," Doyoung waved at her.

"Doyoung? Where are you?"

"I'm walking home, Mom," he responded, beaming at her through his phone.

"You sent me a strange text message," she told him, her voice raised a little more than necessary - Doyoung had mentioned that she was somewhat inept when it came to technology. 

"Huh?" Doyoung looked confused.

"Something about lunch the day after tomorrow," she elaborated. "Doyoung, you aren't coming home for the holidays until next week, right?"

"Ah," Doyoung said, understanding. "That was meant for somebody else, sorry Mom."

"My boy," you heard her tut, and you laughed. "Is someone there with you, Doyoung?"

"Yeah," Doyoung nodded, "Y/N is here."

"Hi, Mrs Kim," you waved, as Doyoung turned the screen towards you. If you weren't so drunk, you would've been nervous about meeting your best friend's mother for the first time. Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on how you looked at it) your bloodstream was mainly rum at that point, so you had absolutely no worries nor qualms. 

“Kim Doyoung! Why didn’t you tell me you had a partner?” his mother blurted out.

“Huh?” exclaimed Doyoung, utterly confused.

“Oh Doyoung, you must bring Y/N home for the holidays! I can’t wait to meet them,” she cooed.

“Mom, wait-”

“See you two next week!” she cheerily said her goodbyes before hanging up, disappearing from the screen and leaving the two of you in silence. 

Doyoung looked at you. You looked back at him.

“Did she…” you began, not quite wanting to end your sentence.

Doyoung nodded gravely. “She thinks we’re dating.”

The look on Doyoung’s face - eyes wide, lips in a straight, serious line - it was too much for you. You snorted, gripping his arm as you buckled in laughter. He wasn’t far behind you, bursting into a fit of giggles too. You and Doyoung loved each other, that was indisputable. But it was completely and entirely platonic. The two of you laughed together the rest of the way home.

As you were coming to your senses the next morning, you groaned. Why the hell did you feel so lousy? you wondered, full to the brim with self-pity. Your head pounded, a throbbing ache so strong you were certain somebody was banging pots and pans in your brain. Your throat was so, so dry, and you felt as though you could drink a whole gallon of water and still be thirsty afterwards. And then the memories of the previous night came flooding in.

Ah, you thought, Now it all makes sense.

You sorted through the events of last night, mentally flicking through the filing cabinet of your memories. A filing cabinet that was sorely empty when it came to the night prior. You remembered arriving at the party with Doyoung; you remembered the first few drinks, but following that your memories began to fade. You remembered Doyoung pressing a sloppy kiss to your boss’ cheek - a rather stoic middle-aged man - and you had no doubt that Doyoung would be apologising profusely on Monday morning. You had absolutely no recollection of the walk home, but since you had awoken in Doyoung’s spare bedroom, you supposed the night could have gone worse. At least you made it home safe.

Begrudgingly, you threw back the blankets and lifted yourself out of bed. Doyoung - bless his heart - had left you some painkillers and a glass of water on the bedside table. You consumed both of them gratefully and emerged from the spare room, wincing at the sunlight that met you. As you made your way down the hallway, whistling met your ears. How Doyoung could be so lively after a night of heavy drinking, you had no idea.

“Why the hell do you never get hungover?” you grumbled at him as you entered the kitchen, finding him at the stove.

“Good morning to you, too, sleeping beauty,” he greeted you with a smile.

“Seriously,” you continued as you took a seat at the kitchen island, “I swear I get hungover enough for the both of us.”

“Thank you for taking on that burden,” Doyoung replied sweetly, which you responded to with a spiteful glower. It doesn’t last long, however; Doyoung finishes cooking breakfast, and dishes you up a serving. Sausages, bacon, scrambled eggs, baked beans, hash browns, and toast. As much as you playfully bickered with Doyoung, he was an absolute treasure.

“Doie, you’re a gift from the heavens,” you praise him, the sight of the warm, greasy food reviving your soul almost immediately. 

Doyoung took a seat next to you, placing down a plate of his own breakfast. “So,” he began, “How much of last night do you remember?”

“Huh?” you asked, suddenly wondering if you’d forgotten something drastic. “Did we…”

“Oh my god, no,” Doyoung denied quickly.

“Thank fuck,” you sigh in relief. Your best friend was attractive, definitely. But you saw him as more of a sibling than a lover.

Doyoung waited a moment before explaining, and with each second that passed, your suspicions rose. “My mom… She’s invited you to spend the holidays with us.”

“Oh!” you exclaim. That confession was a lot tamer than what you’d expected. “Sure, that sounds great. I was spending the holidays alone this year anyways.”

“There’s a catch.”

You dropped your knife and fork onto your plate. “Doyoung,” you groan, “Why is there always a catch?”

“My mom thinks we’re dating.” Doyoung pointedly avoided your eye contact while he spoke.

“And you corrected her, right?” you asked, fearing the worst. Doyoung’s silence only confirmed your fears. “Right?” 

“She was so happy when she thought I was dating someone! And she’s been on my back about settling down forever,” Doyoung rambled, trying to save himself from your wrath - to no avail.

“Doyoung!”

“Please, Y/N. It’ll only be for a few days,” he pleaded, clasping his hands together and giving you his very best puppy-dog eyes. And you had to admit, they were some top-notch puppy-dog eyes.

You gave a resigned sigh, and Doyoung cheered. “Fine. But only because I really want to try your mom’s cookies.”

“You’re the best friend in the world,” Doyoung complimented you, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug. You whined at him, fighting the urge to bat away his affections; in your hungover state, you were not at all ready for hugs.

“Then make me some more hash browns,” you grumbled. If Doyoung was prepared to put you in this situation, he’d better also be prepared to pay you for it.

“You got it, best friend,” Doyoung beamed at you, getting up to obey your command. “You should pack those Christmas pyjamas you’re wearing, by the way. My mom would love them.” You scowled at him. He immediately backed down, waving away his previous statement. “We can figure out the logistics later.”

“You better make this worth my while, Kim Doyoung.” When he served you your hash browns, you were still scowling.

As the taxi pulled up at Doyoung’s childhood home, you couldn’t help but marvel at it. You raised a hand to the cab’s window, looking out at the idyllic cottage, rooftop covered in snow, decked out in twinkling Christmas lights. The environment had grown increasingly more peaceful as you had travelled out of Seoul and deeper into the countryside, picturesque hills and winding valleys rolling past the train windows. This place felt worlds away from the hustle and bustle of the city, and it was difficult to feel even slightly stressed. Even if the situation your best friend had put you in was less than ideal, this was an absolutely beautiful place to spend the holidays - it looked like it had jumped straight out of a Christmas card.

Despite the beautiful winter wonderland before you, you still weren’t prepared for the cold that hit you when you stepped out of the cab. You busied yourself getting the luggage from the trunk while Doyoung paid the driver.

“Are you ready?” Doyoung asked you, looking into your eyes sincerely.

You sighed. “Ready as I’ll ever be.” You gave him a smile, reassuring him. The truth was, you were truly excited to spend the holidays with Doyoung and his mother; you were excited to meet her, to eat her home cooking, to hear stories about Doyoung in his youth. You just had some qualms about the whole fake relationship pretense, and you really didn’t want to let your best friend down.

“Y/N?” Doyoung spoke, taking bags out of your hands.

“Yeah?” you asked, watching wistfully as the taxi drove away.

Doyoung smirked at you. “Just try your best not to fall in love with me for real, okay?”

You rolled your eyes so hard they practically fell out of your head. “You wish.” Just as the cottage door swung open, you reached for Doyoung’s hand, holding it tightly. So began the relationship charade.

“Doyoung, my boy,” his mother beamed, coming out to greet her son. It was hard not to smile upon seeing her - she was clearly over the moon to see you and Doyoung, and her joy was infectious. She was a small woman, but you had gathered from Doyoung’s description that she certainly had a big character. She welcomed her son into an embrace, kissing his cheek. “You don’t visit home enough, Doyoung,” she chided lovingly.

“And you must be Y/N,” she spoke, moving her gaze onto you. She looked at you fondly, and you beamed back at her. “You’re so beautiful,” she praised you.

Your cheeks, already red from the cold, blazed a little brighter. “Thank you, Mrs Kim.”

She wagged a finger at you. “Mrs Kim, you make me sound so aged. Please, call me Mom.” She turned around, welcoming the two of you inside, and you shared a smile with Doyoung. 

The interior of the cottage was every bit as charming as the exterior. Family photos decorated the walls, and warm rugs hugged the floors. You supposed the home would have a cozy feeling all year round, but now, in the festive season, the place was dressed up to the nines. Lavish paper chains were strung up, along with twinkling lights and boughs of holly. Not to mention the Christmas tree; though not huge it was still sizeable, likely the biggest Mrs Kim could fit through the cottage door. It was embellished with golden tinsel and crimson baubles.

“Your home is so beautiful,” you commended. “Did you decorate yourself?”

“All by myself,” Doyoung’s mother confirmed proudly.

“This must’ve been a beautiful place to grow up,” you marvelled, your comment pointed towards Doyoung, who smiled back at you appreciatively.

“Oh, the stories I have about Doyoung growing up,” Mrs Kim said, and you detected a mischievous tone.

“I can’t wait to hear them,” you grinned.

“And see them!” she added. “I have so many photo albums.”

Doyoung groaned, while you and Mrs Kim laughed in the presence of his misery. Yes, you decided. You were going to enjoy this visit very much.

When you settled into bed that night, you were beyond exhausted. Doyoung’s mother had kindly set you up in the spare room, which was delightfully warm and snug. Doyoung’s childhood bedroom contained only a single bed, whereas the spare room had a double bed to accommodate you - the ‘couple.’ Though it had only been a few hours since you’d arrived that afternoon, the gravity of your situation had well and truly sunk in. The performative affection you and Doyoung had been carrying out was alien, equal parts strange and comical.

“I can’t believe the amount of times you called me Honey today,” Doyoung scoffed amusedly, dressed in his blue flannel pyjamas with his dark hair laying flat and fluffy on his forehead. He turned off the big light to leave the room illuminated by the warm glow of the table lamps, before climbing into bed beside you.

“Mock me all you want, Doyoung, but I think I put on a pretty convincing performance,” you return smugly.

“Well, I can’t imagine it’s hard. I’m very easy to love. You on the other hand?” Doyoung faked a weary sigh. “I have my work cut out for me.” You flicked Doyoung on the forehead, snickering when he yelped. 

You yawned, depositing your phone on the bedside table and snuggling down into the blankets. Though you were exhausted, and the cottage was immensely cozy, it always felt a little strange to fall asleep in a new place. You were thankful for the company of your best friend, who always put you at ease.

“I hate sharing a bed with you,” you grumbled your complaint. Despite the comfort he brought you, he wasn’t the easiest person to sleep with. “You starfish. I always wake up with, like, one centimetre of bed space.”

Doyoung dropped his phone, letting it fall onto the blankets. He looked at you, eyebrows raised. “One centimetre?”

“Yeah, one centimetre!” you insisted.

“Well, I always wake up with your cold feet on my legs,” he rebutted.

“Yeah, well-” you sputtered. “It’s not my fault you’re a living hot water bottle!”

“And it’s not my fault you’re always cold. Yet I’m always punished with your horrible cold feet.” You laughed back at him; the normality of your bickering helped to put you at ease.

“Let’s get some rest,” you suggested, yawning again. “I don’t wanna miss your mom’s cookies tomorrow morning - I wanna try them while they’re warm.”

“Mmm, good idea,” Doyoung agreed, eyes wide with the thought of his mother’s cookies.

“Goodnight, butthead,” you teased your friend, turning off the lamp beside you.

“Sleep well, idiot,” he replied fondly. 

Thoughts of warm chocolate-chip cookies were the last things on your mind before you fell asleep, and you were lucky enough to have them drift through your dreams that night.

As you slowly woke up, gradually returning to the land of the conscious, you first became aware of how delightfully warm you were. A light winter sun was shining through the gaps in the curtains, bathing the room in a soft white light. You sighed, hugging your pillow closer to you, but  furrowing your eyebrows in confusion when you found it to be much firmer and less pliant than a pillow.

“Nice to see you’ve finally awakened. You drooled on my pyjamas.” Doyoung’s voice was gentle, and lacked any real annoyance.

“What time is it?” you asked, rolling off the boy.

“Half nine,” he told you, looking at his phone screen. You digested the information as Doyoung got out of bed, stretching his muscles which had stiffened from sleep.

“Now that I’m finally free,” he stared at you pointedly, “I’m gonna take a shower. There’s another bathroom down the hall if you want to wash up.” You nodded, accomplishing your own satisfying stretch in bed.

A while later, fresh and ready for the day, adorned in your favourite comfy sweater, you made your way downstairs, trying to dampen down your high, high hopes for cookies.

“Good morning, Mrs Kim,” you greeted the woman with a smile. A smile that increased tenfold when you saw she was, in fact, in the middle of preparing cookies.

“I already told you to call me Mom, darling,” she chastised gently. “Did you sleep well?”

You gave her a nod, silently thinking about the several times you woke up to Doyoung kicking you through the night. 

“Lovely,” she commented. “I’m making cookies, would you like to help?”

“I’d love to,” you answered honestly. “Your cookies are kind of famous back in Seoul. Doyoung never stops talking about them.”

“That boy and his cookies,” she remarked with affection.

Doyoung’s mother set you off to work making another batch of mixture, as she began her duties with the rolling pin. The two of you worked in a comfortable silence, and you marvelled at how much she put you at ease. She was a warm lady, the kind of mother figure a person is lucky to have.

“Y/N, I want you to tell me everything,” she spoke after a while. “How did you and Doyoung meet?” 

“Ah,” you mumbled, gearing yourself up to talk about your fake-boyfriend. “Well, we work together. I joined the company about two years ago, and Doyoung was the one to show me the ropes.”

“Was it love at first sight?” Mrs Kim asked you sweetly.

You turned away from the cookie dough, choking a little at the mention of romance with Doyoung, as you remembered the first time you met the man. 

You were almost trembling as your new boss showed you around the office; this was your first “grown-up” job and you were the very definition of nervous. You were thankful for your brand-new black blazer which covered the sweat stains that you knew were building. 

“And this,” your boss introduced you, “Is Kim Doyoung. He’ll help you settle in.”

“Hi. Y/N Y/L/N,” you offered Doyoung your hand to shake, which he accepted. 

Doyoung waited for your boss to leave before speaking. “So,” he began with a smirk, “How hard did he try to be ‘relatable’ and ‘down with the kids?’”

You hid your laugh behind a cough. “He’s a little out of touch, huh?”

“A little?” Doyoung raised an eyebrow, laughing alongside you.

“Is it okay to talk about the boss like this? We’re supposed to respect him, right?” you asked your new coworker, a little uncertainly.

“Ah, Y/N, of course we respect him,” Doyoung tutted at you, before adding, “To his face.” 

Doyoung had you in stitches your entire first day. Though he tried not to show it, you hadn’t seen anybody try so hard to help you become comfortable and calm. He had been easing your nerves since day one. 

“Yeah,” you confirmed as you recovered.  “I think it was.” Maybe it wasn’t love at first sight in a romantic sense, but the two of you definitely connected on a personal level right away.

“So romantic,” Doyoung’s mother cooed as she rolled out the dough. “What do you love most about him?”

“Hm.” You paused, taking a moment to think. It was true that you loved a lot of Doyoung’s qualities - he was your best friend after all. He was always supportive, an ever-present shoulder to cry on. He was funny, and kind, and pleasant to be around. You always had fun together. “I love a lot of things about him,” you answered truthfully.

“He’s wonderful, isn’t he?” she agreed with you jovially, to which you smiled and nodded. “Now, I don’t want to rush you,” she continued, “But will you and Doyoung be giving me grandchildren any time soon?”

You choked on your spit, just as Doyoung entered the kitchen, coming to your rescue.

“Speak of the devil,” his mom noted affectionately, as she loaded the full trays into the oven.

“Cookies?” Doyoung’s eyes glinted hopefully. His hair was still damp from the shower, dripping and leaving wet droplets on his plain white t-shirt.

“Yes, in about fifteen minutes,” she confirmed. “You can wait that long, right?”

“Oh,” Doyoung moaned, “I don’t know. I can feel my life escaping from me as we speak.” He collapsed at the kitchen table behind you, falling onto the chair as he pretended to faint. You chuckled at his antics, reaching over to ruffle his still-wet hair adoringly. You caught his mother looking over at the two of you fondly, and you smiled, a little self-conscious. 

It felt more natural than you’d imagined, being cute and cozy with Doyoung in this false relationship. You supposed your friendship was a little more affectionate than you realised. Now that you thought about it, there was a certain tenderness that was common between the two of you - aside from the constant snipping and bickering, that was.

You’d never considered that you could be suited to a life outside the city, but the longer you spent in the charming countryside, the more ideal it felt. On your second morning of your winter break, you and Doyoung had donned your warmest winter gear (hats, scarves, and gloves included) and set out on a walk down the rustic lanes that your best friend had once called home. Though there were no eyes on you, and logically you didn’t have to keep up your fake-dating pretence in these hidden moments, shared only by you and Doyoung, the two of you held hands as you ambled down the snow-covered roads. It was an unspoken act, and one that felt strangely comfortable and oddly natural. You didn’t accredit too much thought to it; best friends could hold hands, if they wished to.

“We’re almost there,” Doyoung told you, after a short time of walking.

You tilted your head in confusion. “Where?” You hadn’t thought you were walking with any specific location in mind - you’d assumed the pair of you were meandering through the countryside with no direction.

“You’ll see,” was all he said, leaving you wondering.

Not long later, Doyoung directed you towards an opening in the shrubbery at the side of the lane, maneuvering himself over a stile before helping you over. The field you found yourself in was empty, the normally green meadow blanketed in completely untouched white. The only thing standing in the field, other than you and Doyoung was an old, rather dilapidated-looking barn. You imagined it once blazed a beautiful scarlet, although the years and the weather had chipped and faded its coat, leaving it a patchy maroon.

“Who does this belong to?” you asked, reclaiming Doyoung’s hand as you approached the barn together.

“I don’t know,” Doyoung countered. “Nobody, I think. It’s been abandoned as long as I can remember.”

“It’s a little creepy,” you commented apprehensively.

“Don’t worry, there aren’t any ghosts,” Doyoung mocked you, although it was devoid of any cruelty.

The door creaked as Doyoung pushed it open, and you didn’t entirely trust it not to fall completely off its hinges. The interior of the barn was a dark contrast to the stark white of the winter wonderland outside, although some sunlight filtered through the gaps in the wooden structure.

“Welcome to my secret clubhouse,” Doyoung introduced you. Your hands fell apart, as Doyoung left your side to venture to the back of the dwelling, finding a rickety swing that hung from the rafters, constructed of two pieces of rope and a plank of wood. He sat on it, swinging lightly and you were surprised to find that it managed to support his weight.

“How many of your romantic conquests have you brought here before me?” you teased, examining his hangout.

“You’re the first.”

The barn wasn’t particularly exciting, but there was a certain buzz to be derived from gaining a little bit of insight to Doyoung’s past. The floors of the building were no longer lined with hay, but dirt and dust, featuring intermittent weeds and plants. A tree had reached its spindly branches inside the structure, intertwining itself with the beams and pillars. You perched yourself atop an old stool that was sitting amid the weeds and rubble.

“Did you put that swing up yourself?” you asked, eyeing its stability.

“Yep,” Doyoung confirmed. “All by myself. I climbed right up into the rafters to fasten it.”

“You’re lucky you didn’t hurt yourself,” you remarked. The barn was a rather significant height, and it can’t have been safe for a young boy to scale the wooden bones of the building, likely aided by the serpentine branches of the oak tree. 

“When I was a kid I thought I was superman,” Doyoung said, and you could see him reminiscing internally. You watched, captivated, as he looked around the tattered old barn which was clearly a sentimental place for him. He was beautiful, your best friend. Eyes that shined, dark as the night; a nose that sloped almost perfectly; pink lips that looked best when smiling. Though the winter was a cold one, your heart was warmed by your love for Doyoung. The two of you sat in a comfortable silence, simply existing together without any demand or pressure to make unnecessary conversation.

“We should get back home,” Doyoung spoke after a while, standing and stretching. “My mom is making hotpot for lunch.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” you said with enthusiasm. Spending time with your best friend, taking walks through the beautiful countryside, and being fed homemade dishes for every meal. This Christmas holiday may just be the best thing to ever happen to you.

Christmas morning came much more swiftly than you expected. The homely atmosphere of the cottage, the domestic haven where Doyoung spent his youth, felt like a sweet sanctuary that existed outside of the linear flow of time. Early morning walks down dew-covered lanes gave way to plentiful lunches that you savoured, which morphed into homely afternoons that eased into sleepy evenings around the fireplace. It was the sweet retreat you hadn’t realised you’d needed, and you were remarkably upset that you had to return to the city the following day.

“I know it’s not much, but I hope you’ll put this to good use,” you grinned at Mrs Kim as you handed over the Christmas present you’d brought her. She unwrapped the parcel, although the shape didn’t quite leave room for a discreet gift, to reveal a bottle of red wine.

“I’m sure I’ll find some way to use this,” she responded, a teasing twinkle in her eye as you shared a laugh together. 

“Y/N,” Doyoung spoke, handing you a small box wrapped in festive paper. “Here.” He was already wearing the watch you had gifted him with. You peeled back the wrapping, opening the box to find a delicate silver necklace, hanging from it a shining silver jewel. It looked expensive; you wouldn’t be surprised if it was a real diamond.

“Wow,” you gasped, at a complete loss for words.

“Let me put it on you,” Doyoung offered, and you let him. 

“It’s beautiful,” you smiled at him. “Thank you.” He smiled back sincerely.

Doyoung’s mother reached under the Christmas tree, bringing out two identically wrapped packages, square-shaped and squishy. “You kids open your presents together; I made them matching for you.”

You tore into the paper, opening the bundle to reveal a mass of knitted wool, soft and burgundy. You lifted it up to reveal a beautiful, intricate Christmas sweater - and noticed that Doyoung was holding an identical one.

“They’re so beautiful, Mrs Kim,” you complimented her, a little starstruck; though you knew Mrs Kim had handcrafted them, they looked like they were bought from a shop. They were of the most perfect quality, and looked splendidly snug and cozy.

“Yeah, thanks Mom,” Doyoung added, admiring the material. He waited until she looked away, taking a sip of her hot cocoa, before turning to you and muttering “Matching Christmas sweaters?” accompanied by a fake gag. You looked away, finding it almost impossible to stifle the giggle that bubbled up within you. They were beautiful, and you were endlessly grateful for the homemade gift, but Doyoung’s comment had amused you.

Mrs Kim looked at you with a knowing expression, and you couldn’t help but wonder if she’d noticed the exchange.

“Now you know I wasn’t kidding about my mom’s homemade cooking,” Doyoung said as he worked on the mountain of dishes in the sink.

“You really weren’t,” you agreed, stood next to him with a towel to dry the porcelain. You typically weren’t such a big fan of turkey, but something about the way Mrs Kim cooked it meant that it was surprisingly delicious. You had gone back for several helpings of the meal, encouraged by Doyoung’s mother, who seemed to derive pleasure from keeping people well-fed.

“I need a nap,” Doyoung declared, and you shared his experience of full-stomach sleepiness.

The pair of you finished up in the kitchen, and moved to the living room where Doyoung’s mother had relocated.

“Ah!” she stopped you in the doorway, before you could enter. “Look.”

You followed her pointed finger, to the green sprigs hanging in the archway. Mistletoe. Doyoung gave an awkward chuckle.

“Mistletoe for the lovers,” his mother chortled gleefully.

Doyoung captured you in his embrace, and your heart began to beat a little faster - was he really going to kiss you? You closed your eyes as he moved into you, and felt his lips peck your forehead. You smiled, before pulling him in for a kiss on the lips. In the spirit of Christmas. Doyoung’s eyes widened, and you laughed as his mother cheered. You followed her into the living room, making yourself comfortable on the couch that had no right being as cozy as it was. Doyoung’s cheeks were still red when he joined you, taking a seat on the couch alongside you.

The television was on, playing some old Christmas movie you vaguely recognised but had never seen. You brought your legs up onto the couch, snuggling into Doyoung’s side and nestling in further when he wrapped his arm around you. The film was already halfway through, and you were too sleepy to pay attention. It wasn’t long before you began nodding off to sleep, and you knew Doyoung was doing the same. Comfortable and relaxed, you let it happen, easing into a well-deserved nap with your best friend. Just as you fell into the unconscious, you sensed Doyoung’s mother draping a blanket over you both, and you smiled gratefully before letting yourself go.

“Taxi’s here!” Doyoung announced from his point of watch at the front door.

“I can’t believe you’re leaving already,” Doyoung’s mother pouted.

You agreed with a sad smile. “It was wonderful to meet you, Mrs Kim,” you bid her goodbye as Doyoung took your luggage out to the car.

“Beautiful Y/N,” she smiled back at you, taking your hands in her own. “Tell me the truth here.”

You blinked, surprised at her direct request. “Of course.”

“You and Doyoung aren’t really dating, are you?”

“I-”

“It’s okay, my love,” she reassured you. “Don’t worry about it. That Doyoung, he’ll do anything if he thinks it’ll please me.”

“He’s a good boy,” you commented, to which Mrs Kim nodded in agreement. “But how did you know?” You’d thought you’d given a pretty convincing show.

“Nothing gets past me,” she responded, her eyes glinting. “Listen. Doyoung’s partner or not, I can tell that you’re important to him. And for that, you’ll always be a member of this family. You’re always welcome in this home, Y/N.”

You swallowed back tears, touched by her warm words, and by how genuine they were. “Thank you, Mom.”

The older lady pulled you in for a hug, just as Doyoung called out to you, “Y/N, we gotta go.”

“You have my number, right?” Mrs Kim checked, and you nodded. “And keep that cookie recipe safe - three generations old, that is!”

“Of course,” you assured her, retreating to the taxi as Doyoung said his goodbyes to her.

“Come back soon, you two!” 

“We will,” you and Doyoung promised her in unison.

Settled in the back of the taxi, you heaved a sigh. It had been a beautiful holiday period, but part of you was happy to be returning to the security of your own home. And an even bigger part of you was relieved to drop the act of being Doyoung’s partner.

Doyoung looked at you, a tired look in his eyes. “Y/N, I love you so much-”

“But we could never date,” you completed his statement, sensing its direction.

“Never,” agreed Doyoung with a laugh. 

The two of you were much better off as friends. It would be a lie to say you’d never wondered what it would be like if your relationship ever happened to cross that boundary, but you were sated by the lesson you’d learned over the last week. Your relationship was platonic, and was destined to remain that way. That didn’t mean your relationship was any less significant than that of a romantic couple, though. Doyoung was your family. And you were beyond lucky to have found him.

[cimmunist]

Decided to make a comparison between my usual interpretation of Cimmerian, the one from my (and my friend's, @bluethepearldiver ) main AU, Gods and Pawns, and the @ask-dr-cimmerian version of him. You can read more in-detail explanations under the cut, but avoid the blog version if you don't want spoilers. I'm gonna be doing Clef next, who arguably has more design changes than the golden good boy.

The one on the right is the @ask-dr-cimmerian version, but I drew him with his natural hair and eye colour, he usually wears coloured lenses and dyes his hair.

GaP/Usual interpretation of Cimmerian:

Species: Most of the time, regular, non-anomalous human. Becomes immortal later on. (Can vary depending on version of the AU)

Age: 37-45 during the main events of the AU

Gender: Trans man

Orientation: Bisexual/Bi ace

Pronouns: he/him

Nationality: Ukrainian/American, Ukrainian from grandfather's side, raised in the South of US

Job: Ethics Committee Chairman

Appearance: 5'8'' lanky man with little to no body hair, gains some weight as he ages. Naturally brown eyes and hair, dyes his bangs a darker colour. Has both eyes, but is blind in his left one. Doesn't mind his blind eye but wears an eye patch out of habit.

Personality & health:

Sly, cocky bastard of the ethics committee

Petty

Strict and kind of unpleasant if you're caught on the receiving end of his complaints, but generally an overall charming guy

Kind of a mess with social interactions because of social anxiety, but he does his best

Struggles with PTSD, but mostly has his mental health under control

Relationships:

Love interests: Usually Clef, Bright and Kondraki, but varies depending on the AU version (other notable examples would be North, Mikell, Pierre (friend's o5 oc) or Tiffany (my oc))

Family: Two biological mums, orphaned from an early age, adopted by his aunt and uncle whom he considers his parents. Lots of adoptive siblings/cousins. Has two half-siblings who hate his guts. Usually childless during the ages listed above, but not always, has a bunch of kids later on.

Friends (depends mostly on versions of the AU): Sheila & Philip Foster (college/close friends), Richard Gerald (childhood/college/work friend), Tiffany Okely (college/work friend), Han/2913 (close friend), Karlos North (close friend/ex-love interest), Loretto/035 (close work acquaintance), Pierre/o5-4 (boss/friend), Sophia Light (close work friend), Megan (ex/friend)

Other: Works closely with the o5 council, and as such has somewhat personal relationships with some of them. Has a father/son relationship with at least one or two of them (Philosopher Scientist and The Mailman have a custody battle, Philosopher's husband Founder stands awkwardly to the side). Has an (abusive) ex, Kennedy Howard.

Trivia:

Has amaxophobia, is slowly working through it

Very caring and fatherly in nature

Has a fear of eternity, kind of awkward since he becomes immortal, oops

Got picked for the Ethics Committee Chairman pretty early on to joining the Committee, was very stressed about it, not very popular with some elder members of the committee for this reason

Recovering alcoholic

Suffers from chronic pain

Allergic to fur

Very ND, learned to mask it over the years, but will fail to do so if he's extremely tired, distressed or in pain. Will just, forcing himself not to stim, making himself feel miserable at the end of the day.

Got his scars from a car crash

Blog version of Cimmerian:

Species: Demigod (credit to @bsathesilentartist for the idea and letting me use it)

Age: 37

Gender: Genderqueer, currently identifies as trans man

Orientation: Oriented ace, demi-biromantic

Pronouns: Currently he/him, later on any

Nationality: Ukrainian/Turkic, raised in South US

Job: Liaison for the Ethics Committee (notable places of work: Site-19, Site-88, Site-17)

Appearance: 5'7'' lanky man with little to no body hair. Naturally silver/white hair that he dyes brown (including the eyebrows). Blue/golden eye with central heterochromia, changes colours over time, hides it with brown contacts. Lost his left eye, wears glass eyes and/or eye patches. Likes to wear make-up.

Personality & health:

Grumpy, mostly at work, gets worse at the end of the day

Petty

Strict and serious at work

Used to be more outgoing and cheerful, nowadays more anxious and snappy

Struggles greatly with depression, PTSD and suicidal thoughts, which causes him to be overall unpleasant and tired most of the time, overall relapsed A LOT

Very devoted to the things he believes in and people he loves, would actually die for his family and friends

Actually pleasant to be around if you get to know him well

Sometimes kind of a big hypocrite

Relationships:

Romantic interests: Clef, later on Bright and Iceberg

Friends: Sheila & Philip Foster (college friends), Gerald (college friend), Tiffany Okely (close friend, met at work), Han/2913 (friend), Megan (friend/ex-girlfriend), Karlos North (close friend, ex-fling)

Family: Son of Ak Ana/White Mother. Adopted by two mortal women, orphaned early on, adopted again by his aunt and uncle who he considers his parents. Has a bunch of adopted siblings/cousins. Two adopted/half-siblings that hate his guts. Has 3 children. Eldest, adopted daughter May. Middle kid, Eliza, who he had with his abusive ex Kennedy Howard. Youngest kid, Melody, who he had with Clef.

Trivia:

Semi-omniscient, a walking lie detector, kind of a slow idiot who doesn't realise This Is Not Normal

A mutualistic relationship with water, so to speak, doesn't fully understand it or grasp it quite yet

Can just...breathe underwater, I guess

Has goose wings, babyyyy, he can't see them though (not yet

Has fucked up dreams where he relives events from different timelines (which can be quite traumatic), a side effect of his omniscience

Very stressed about his children being anomalous like him or Clef, keeps a copy of unredacted Foundation files as potential blackmail if things do south for them

Lots of allergies

Has amaxophobia, you will not catch him anywhere near a car, no thank you sir.

Has a fear of eternity and drowning/deep waters (yes, I know, ironic)

Used to be recovering alcoholic, relapsed hardcore lately

Suffers from chronic pain

Neurodivergent, but masks/pretends to be neurotypical, will fail at it spectacularly under distress, pain or if he's tired

All of the hate he feels for Bright is just 100% projection 💜

Somebody get this man a therapist

Got his scars from a car crash

Has a toad named Potato

[lils-writes-stuff]

Hit

spencer reid x reader

Best years part eleven | part ten | part nine | part eight | part seven | part six | part five | part four | part three |part two |part one

Summary: a day so normal can turn on a dime so quick.

warnings: normal criminal minds things, torture, kidnapping, confession of undying love, angst 

A/N: based on season 7 episode 23; it’s a doozy and this is going to get good. 

 The morning seemed normal, nothing special about it really. It was a Saturday, a beautiful Saturday morning where Y/N thought nothing, particularly life-altering, would happen. 

 But, oh, was she wrong. Spencer was going to a convention with Penelope who didn’t want to go alone after her and Kevin’s breakup. Hotch was spending the day with his son and Beth, his girlfriend. JJ was spending the day with her son Henry while Will worked. And Derek was with Emily looking at her new house, who Y/N was supposed to meet but never did. 

 The day was so normal, she woke up at seven, got dressed, and went out for coffee and a muffin before going to meet Emily and Derek. Everything took a turn of fate when she walked out of the coffee shop, seeing the person she had no expectation of seeing that day. 

 Y/N’s heart skipped a beat as she made eye contact with Caroline’s sickeningly beautiful ones. She had a smile that played on her face that told Y/N she had already done something to her. 

 Y/N looked down to her half-empty coffee cup, horror washing over her face as she realized that the man who had made her drink (who she recognized but couldn’t place)  was the man from the diner. 

 She had been drugged and there was no way of getting out of it as her vision blurred and she watched as Caroline got closer.

--------------

 “Thank you,” Emily said, grabbing the paper from the realtor as she exited the bottom of the house. 

 “Thanks.” Derek nodded to the man. 

 The two walked up the steps from the basement and onto the sidewalk. 

 “I don’t know,” Emily said, conflicted about her decision on the house.

 “Emily, what’s not to know? It’s a beautiful place,” Derek said, confused about Emily’s words. 

 “There are cracks in the foundation.” Emily turned to face Derek. Her face was ridden with hesitance about the home. 

 “Cracks can be fixed,” Derek replied. 

 “No, they can be hidden, they’re still there.” Her words were talking about the house but truly she was talking about herself. 

 “What, are you afraid the place is gonna fall down?” Derek asked her with a puzzled face.

 “I’m afraid it’s never gonna be as strong as it was,” Emily replied, still referring to herself.

 “Okay, somebody’s heart is not into it,” Derek stated, catching onto that this wasn’t really about the house anymore. “What’s going on?” 

 She let out a telling sigh. “I don’t know. When I first came here, I felt like I was home and now, it’s just an uphill battle.”

 Derek looked back at the house, thinking about what Emily was saying with intense thought. 

 “People kill for opportunities like these, am I crazy to pass it up?” She asked. 

 “Well, you gotta do what’s best for you,” Derek replied. She nodded, letting out a quiet ‘yeah’ and shoved the paper into her purse. 

 As the two began to walk down the street Emily thought back to Y/N. “Hey, I wonder where Y/N is? She doesn’t show up for something without telling someone.” Emily began to feel that gut feeling she gets when something was wrong. 

 “She’s probably with Pretty boy, two of them spending a day together,” Derek said not really concerned. 

 “No, he’s with Penelope, they’re at a sci-fi convention, that’s why I asked Y/N to come with us.” Emily pulled out her phone to call Spencer, but couldn’t as she got a call from Hotch. 

------------   

 When Y/N woke up, she was cold, her body shaking from her drenched clothes that clung to her body. The next thing she noticed was that her hands were zip-tied to the sides of a bolted down metal chair. 

 Her eyes still heavy, she assessed her state and where she was. 

 “Loopy, I am very loopy.” Her words were mumbled as she didn’t feel a need to stay quiet. “An apartment.” That’s where she decided she was, the small empty room telling her that. It was mostly dark, a hanging light above her head being the only source of light.

 “Wow, for someone who is just starting to wake up, you are very observant.” A voice came from the shadows of the room. Caroline walked out, her tall figure had aged since Y/N had last seen her, she almost looked old. Her long brown hair had lost some of its volume but she still retained the beauty Y/N saw all those years ago. 

 “You’ve gotten old,” Y/N said, her eyes squinting as she looked at the new forming wrinkles on Caroline’s face. “Must be from all the stress of trying to stay hidden and the prison of course.” 

 “And you still have the attitude I remember,” Caroline laughed, enjoying the moment they were having. 

 “What do you want?” Y/N asked, not wanting to appease whatever moment she was having anymore. 

 “I think you know what I want.” Y/N had an idea, but she didn’t know if it was right. 

 Her to suffer, more than likely, her friends to suffer, sounds more probable. She probably needed to get off from watching her longest victim suffer again.  

 “I have some theories,” Y/N replied, her eyes meeting Caroline's. 

 “Ah, well then Ms. FBI-profiler, let’s hear these amazing theories.” Caroline pulled a chair from behind her. She sat in it backward, her legs draping over the sides. 

 “I rather keep them to myself.” Y/N was stalling now, hoping to God that someone would notice she’s missing and find her. 

 “You know, Honey-- do you still go by that, or have you grown out of it?” The nickname made Y/N want to puke, the sound of it coming from her lips bringing back many painful memories she had locked away. 

 “Things like that, are what are gonna get you hurt.” When the words left her lips, an electric jolt shocked Y/N in her side. The jolt was enough to send her doubling over in pain, but it wasn’t enough to cause major side effects.  

 Caroline laughed and stood up, clapping her hands together. 

 “That’s what I like to see!” She exclaimed as she walked closer to Y/N. She grabbed her face with her index finger and thumb, squeezing her cheeks enough to leave bruises. “And Honey, we’re just getting started.”

-------------- 

 When the team arrived outside of the bank of the robbery, it was frantic. Cop cars, helicopters, swat, the whole get-up was there.

 JJ ran to Will, who was one of the responders to the robbery that was called in. His partner had been shot and killed, but all JJ was worried about was him. 

 “It’s definitely them,” Will said looking at Hotch. “I only saw the King and the Jack, but I figured the queen’s inside, too.” 

 Hotch was listening but he was looking around for Y/N. Spencer was doing the same, but his concern was higher than Hotch’s. 

 “The media’s calling them the Face Cards, seven bank robberies in seven months, they’ve killed one person in each robbery.” Hotch began walking to the swat cars and tent set up. “Has anyone talked to Y/N?” 

 “She was supposed to meet me and Derek at the house-showing this morning but never showed,” Emily answered then turned to Spencer. “We thought she could have been with you.”

 “No, I called her this morning before I left to meet Garcia, she said she was going to get a coffee before she met you.” Spencer was scared now Y/N didn’t do this. She would never go off without at least telling someone what she was even remotely doing.

 “Okay, going back to this case, serial killers who have a thirty-day cooling-off period and we’re only hearing about this now?” Emily asked, changing the subject to the case at hand. 

 Spencer was listening, but his thoughts kept going back to every word Y/N had said to him that morning. Going over it, over and over again. Nothing told him anything that would hint she would be leaving or doing something spontaneous.

 “Well, headquarters has always characterized them as robbers first, serial killers second,” Hotch replied to Emily’s question. 

 “No one kills seven people without serious psychopathic tendencies,” Spencer said, trying to stay somewhat focused on the case. 

 She’s probably fine, she’s probably fine, his gut was speaking louder than his brain that she wasn’t. 

 “I disagreed with the original assessment, I was overruled,” Hotch said looking at Spencer. He took note of the way he was nervously swaying and messing with his hands. That was one of his tells that something was bothering him. 

 “So why are we here?” Rossi asked Hotch.

 “Because crisis negotiation is overseas,” Hotch replied. 

 “What more do we know about them?” JJ asked. 

 “They’re organized, they’re efficient. Each strike lasts about two minutes.” Hotch turned and began walking again to the tent set up. 

 “They gotta be scouting the banks in advance,” Derek speculated. “Why haven’t we been able to I.D. them off of the surveillance footage?”

 They walked into the FBI on-scene command center where Penelope sat in front of a makeshift home base. 

 “They hack the security feed and turn off the cameras, both during the initial canvass and during the robbery, until the masks come back on, and then we’re allowed to watch.” Hotch stood behind Penelope, looking at all the screens with the footage. 

 “They’re using the hostages as human shields,” Rossi said, observing the way the hostages were lined up in front of the doors. 

 “This is the first time they’ve been interrupted. What went wrong?” JJ asked. 

 “It’s a big bank, it’s possible they weren’t about to round everybody up before someone triggered an alarm,” Emily answered with a theory. 

 “Why haven’t they cut the feed now that they’ve been cornered? Letting us see inside gives up a tactical advantage, they gotta know that.” Derek said, confused as to what their plan was.

 “They don’t seem to care,” Hotch said. 

 Spencer stopped all thoughts he had on this case when the words left Hotch’s mouth. 

 “She never cared about if people saw her it seemed.” Y/N said as the two sat over dinner. She was in a blue dress that complimented her skin and eyes so well, Spencer remembered. “She said she always loved to put on a show.” 

 “Reid?” JJ asked, pulling Spencer out of his memory. 

 “What?” He asked, not knowing what she had just said. 

 “I said they’re overconfident and arrogant and was wondering if you could relay onto that,” JJ said, repeating her words.

 “The, um, the face card masks could add to their narcissism,” he responded, recalling what he was thinking before his memory. “Their personas are the royalty of poker.” 

 “JJ and Prentiss look at past robberies, that’s gonna be our victimology, pull another analyst if you need to,” Hotch ordered, the two leaving the van to head back to Quantico. “Dave, I want you to handle negotiations, and Morgan, strategize tactical options with MPD.” They all nodded and left the room, Rossi staying along with Spencer. 

 “Reid, do you have any idea where Y/N is?” Hotch asked him, knowing this wasn’t normal for Y/N to not show up like this. 

 “I-I had a thought,” Spencer responded, nervous all a sudden that if he said this it would be true. “I think Caroline Roberts might have her.” 

 “How can you be so sure?” Hotch asked, unsure if that was true. 

 “Because when you said that these guys didn’t seem to care, I remembered something Y/N said about how Caroline liked to put on a show.” Y/N’s voice rang through his head, the words from that night repeating over and over. “She also would have the ability to control an operation like this, Y/N always said she had a thing for robbery.”

 “Who’s Caroline Roberts?” Rossi asked, looking between the two. 

 “The woman who tormented Y/N in college,” Hotch answered, knowing that there was no hiding it from Rossi anymore. “Garcia, can you track Y/N’s phone?” 

 “Yeah, of course,” Penelope’s voice was shaky as she began typing. She was worried about her friend. Y/N had told her what Caroline had done and if that’s where she was she didn’t want her to be hurt. 

 “Reid, do you think this Caroline woman had something to do with these robberies?” Rossi asked. He had no idea what was going on with Y/N’s past, but if it could help them with this case, he wanted to know everything. 

 “She could, but that’s only a hunch,” Spencer responded. 

 “Her phone’s sim card has been removed, I can’t track it,” Penelope said, a tear rolling down her cheek knowing that meant she was probably taken.

 “Reid, go back to Quantico to help JJ and Prentiss, I will let you know if anything comes in.” Hotch did not need Spencer here as Caroline showed up with Y/N, it didn’t take a profiler to see that Spencer would risk his life for Y/N. That is not something he needed today. 

 “But Hotch--” 

 “Now.” 

--------------- 

 “Agh!” The jolt of the taser made Y/N scream again as it shocked her for what felt like the hundredth time. 

 “Tell me all about this new boy of yours Honey.” Caroline stood in front of Y/N with a hose she attached to a sink. “Tell me all about how much you love him.” 

 “How do you know that?” Y/N said, panting heavily from the jolt she had just received. 

 “That’s not the answer I was looking for.” Caroline turned the hose on and sprayed Y/N again. 

 Y/N was gasping as the water running all over her face and chest made her shiver.

 “I love him, yes I do.” Y/N said, just wanting the water to stop because she was freezing. She did not want to admit that to her, but that atser was really painful and she just wanted it to stop.  

 “See was that so hard,” Caroline said, talking to her like she was a child. “I just want some girl talk, you know like we used to have.” 

 “That’s not what you want.” Y/N muttered under her breath. 

 “Speak up Honey, you know I can’t stand when you mutter,” Caroline said, holding her hand around her ear. 

 “I said that’s not what you want, bitch.” The words were hard and cold as they left Y/N’s lips with hatred. “You want to watch me suffer and fall into pieces again, but I won’t let it happen. You’ve been sending me letters again, you’ve been watching me suffer from a distance for your own amusement.” Her voice was seething as she glared at the woman. 

 “Well, guess what, I will not let you break me again, ever.” She leaned forward in the chair, tugging on the restraints that were bound to create bruises. 

 Y/N was a woman now, who wasn’t afraid to tell Caroline off. She didn’t want her to have what she wanted. 

 “Are you sure about that? That I won’t get what I want, I mean,” Caroline laughed as she spoke. She walked over to the kitchen counter and grabbed an IPad. “I mean the letters I’ve been sending have been fun and all, but I needed to see you again. To watch as you collapse into a shell of who you were-” she took in a hiss of a breath- “well, I guess it’s who you’ve become.” 

 When she opened the IPad she pulled up to a live feed of what looked like a bank robbery. She pointed to a woman dressed in all black. “You see her? That’s my partner, I love her, well I love what she can get me really.” 

 “What can she get you?” Y/N asked. If she was here she might as well get as much information as she could. 

 “Well, she’s gotten me lots of money since her and her gang of robbers has gotten me,” Caroline explained. She pulled her chair closer to Y/N, so now they were face to face. “I am, well, I guess you could say their boss, but the two guys she works with don’t want to put a title on it. In fact, I think they think I don’t exist, crazy right?”

 “Crazy,” Y/N said with no emotion. 

 “They also don’t know that this whole thing is a set up for my partner and her boyfriend, who also works with us, to satisfy whatever need they have. I don’t even really care what that is to be honest. And for me to torture you again by making you watch your family suffer.” Caroline was laughing as she pulled the IPad back to her to look at the feed again. “Satisfying my needs.” 

 Y/N’s face filled with horror. “What?” She gritted her teeth with anger at her words. She wasn’t scared yet, her first instinct now being anger instead of fear like it used to be. 

 “I said, my team will get yours to suffer so I can make you watch, and then I am either going to kill you or you can join me in my escapade,” Caroline continued. 

 Y/N shook her head, tears of rage falling down her face. “No-no, I will not let you do that.” Her voice was thick and full of determination. “They will find you, they will.”

 She leaned forward again, with much more force that she hoped it would break the restraints or move the chair. “Do not touch them.” 

 “Yeah, not so sure I’m going to listen to you on that one,” Caroline said, sucking in a breath. She got up from her chair and walked over to a camera in the corner. She pulled it closer and turned it on. A flashing red light appeared and Caroline walked back into the frame. 

“Say hi to your friends Y/N!” She said, her voice happy as she waved to the camera. Y/N had tears rolling down her cheeks as she looked at the camera, a pleading look on her face. 

----------- 

 “In six robberies no one’s been able to build a sketch of the unsubs before they put their masks on,” Emily said to Spencer and JJ as she read some of the files. “These witness descriptions are all over the map.” 

 “Probably because of the trauma suffered inside,” JJ said looking at Emily. 

 Spencer sat with a marker as he worked on the map, his mind not being able to focus completely as he thought more and more about Y/N. God he felt so stupid, he had o focus and all he could do was think about her. 

 “Reid, what you got?” Emily asked when she noticed Spencer had stopped writing on the map. 

 “Uh, I-I've noticed that they’ve been zig-zagging north and south but in a relative straight pattern from Washington, D.C.,” Spencer said. His words were stuttered as he tried to focus on what was in front of him. The two women noticed but didn’t mention it yet. 

 “This is the largest bank they’ve hit, before today, it’s just been small branches in rural communities,” JJ said. 

 “So today was always a part of their plan but why the nation’s capital?” Emily asked, her pen pointing to Spencer’s map. “To make a statement?”

 Spencer tried to think more into it as his mind overlapped stuff with what Y/N had told him about Caroline and their victimology of the case. He was currently coming up with nothing, but that was because he had only gotten through half of the information in his head.

 But for all he knew, Caroline had nothing to do with this and Y/N could be lying in a ditch dead from something else. Okay, so that wasn’t very probable, but he was so annoyed with the fat of not knowing, he lost rational thought about it.  

 “I pulled schematics from the previous banks,” Kevin Lynch said walking into the room with some blueprints. “This is the first one with the metal detectors, maybe that’s what went wrong.” 

 “No, they cased the branches too well in advance. They’d know to be ready for them,” Emily said, debunking Kevin’s theory. “These are takeover robberies. No faces, no passing notes, no prints. They’re professionals.”

 “Hey, there is something all these robberies have in common,” JJ said, bringing the attention to her. “The queen’s the only one who pulls the trigger.” 

 Spencer was pulled back into another memory of something Y/N had told him. 

 “She always said, ‘Y/N, the woman has all the power, they can pull the trigger if they have the right mindset, anytime they want, it’s how we are made.’”

 They all sat quietly again and began to work. When Kevin had left the room, JJ and Emily looked at each other before turning to Spencer. 

 “Spence, what’s up?” JJ asked, concern evident in her voice.. 

 “Y/N.” He said with a sad voice. 

 The two women looked at each other confused, not understanding what he meant. 

 “Spencer, I’m gonna need you to elaborate on that. What about Y/N.” JJ’s voice was motherly like she was speaking to a small child. That’s how Spencer felt about this, small and helpless.

 “I think she’s been kidnapped by whoever is controlling this,” Spencer explained, finally looking about at the two. 

 Spencer knew he couldn’t hide this if it meant they could stop the madness inside the bank. 

 “What do you mean?” Emily asked, confused about what Spencer knew. Her question made him irritated because all he had right now was speculation on the matter. 

 “When Y/N was in college, she was mentally tortured by a woman who took her under her wing named Caroline Roberts,” Spencer explained as he looked up to JJ and Emily. 

 “Mentally tortured? Like, she verbally abused her?” JJ asked, not fully understanding. 

 “She would torture Y/N’s friends and convince them it was either Y/N’s fault or they did it to themselves. Y/N couldn’t handle watching people she cared for getting hurt, so she isolated herself from the rest of the world, no friends, no boyfriends, and she limited conversations with her mom and best friend so Caroline couldn’t find them,” Spencer explained. His voice raised with annoyance with the woman who did this to her. 

 The information JJ and Emily received overwhelmed them. Spencer just spat it out, but he didn’t care if it meant saving the woman he loved, he would say it. 

 “Well, how do you know she’s behind this?” Emily asked. 

 “Because I remember every conversation we had about Caroline, and there are things happening here that line up with things she would tell Y/N.” Spencer jabbed his finger into the table aggressively as he got irritated. It wasn’t completely true, he needed confirmation on it because for all he knew she was lying in a ditch.

  Stop thinking that Spencer.  

 “Spence, this is good, what you remember might help us solve this,” JJ said, her hand grabbing his bicep. 

 “So when we say something that reminds you of it, tell us, okay?” Emily said looking at Spencer. 

 He nodded. God, he felt so helpless. He felt like he couldn’t do anything to save Y/N, but he promised her he wouldn’t let Caroline hurt her, and he intended to keep that promise. 

--------------  

 “All right Honey, you ready to shine,” Caroline said walking behind Y/N. “If you say anything about what I told you, I will kill them faster than you can say my name, understand?” 

 Y/N nodded, too tired from being jolted again and again to muster up the voice to speak. She knew they were lies, Caroline wouldn’t kill them without making her watch them suffer first. Having her see them panic as they looked for her or watch as she was tortured. She couldn’t do it, it wasn’t who she was. 

 When the video became live, a link appeared on Penelope’s computer. Curious she clicked on it on another screen, keeping the ongoing investigation on the one directly in front of her. 

 She gasped as she saw Y/N on the screen. Her hair was wet and clinging to her face, her light blue shirt was stretched from all the water and almost see-through, her black jeans were dripping at the hems, and she was barefoot. 

 “Sir, I found Y/N,” Penelope said, bringing Hotch’s attention away from Strauss and to her computer screen. A tear rolled down Penelope’s cheek as she watched the woman she recognized as Caroline take a taser to her back. 

 Y/N’s back arched as she tried to pull away from the pain. She let out a cry of pain, this one being the worst pain she’s felt yet. 

 “I said to say hi to you technical analyst Y/N,” Caroline barked at Y/N. “What’s her name? Isn’t it Penelope? I noticed she had put tabs on me, your doing I assume.”

 “Oh god,” Penelope cried as she watched Y/N and heard her name. 

 “Garcia, can you track this?” Hotch asked, rushed as he leaned next to her. 

 Garcia began typing furiously on her computer, trying to triangulate where the video was coming from. “No, sir, it says it’s coming from inside the bank, I think she connected the feed to the banks so we couldn’t track it.” 

 Y/N screamed again as Caroline shoved the taser to her side. Hotch and Penelope winced as they watched her scream. 

 “Hi, Penelope.” Y/N panted, tears spilling out of her eyes from the pain. She wasn’t going to lose, her competitive nature wouldn’t allow it.

 But damn, that taser hurt, even after she had turned it down.  

 Caroline laughed again. “Now tell your unit chief you can’t come to the scene.” 

 “Hotch, I can’t make it into work today…” Y/N trailed off. She was panting and becoming really tired again. Caroline stalked over to the hose picking it up and spraying Y/N to keep her awake. 

 Y/N gasped as the cold water hit her stomach. 

 “Continue please,” Caroline said, turning off the hose. 

 “I can’t make it because this bitch is too much of a coward to work her own unit in the field as you do.” Y/N knew that her telling Hotch that Caroline was their leader would get her in trouble, but if it meant helping them she would do it.

 “You little--” Caroline grabbed the taser again and put it against Y/N again. Y/N screamed but then laughed when it was over. Adrenaline mixed with some anger was fueling her words. “What’s so funny?” 

 “They’re gonna stop this,” Y/N sang a laugh taking over her at the end. She sounded loopy and almost crazy with the way she was singing her words. “And Honey, believe me Spencer will know what to do.” She hoped Spencer would remember the time she told him about the nickname, praying he would know where to find her,   

 “How? We have this all planned out.” Caroline crossed her arms over her chest. 

 Hotch, Strauss, and Penelope watched the scene intently as if it was a movie. 

 “Because they’re smart and they know how to.” The kick of adrenaline was wearing off now, and her eyelids become heavy again. 

 “Okay, we’re done for now,” Caroline said walking over to the camera and turning it off. 

 “No,” Penelope said as if she could be heard. “We-we can’t show Reid that.” 

 “We have too, he might know what she meant,” Hotch said, pulling out his phone to call Spencer.

- 

 Caroline squatted in front of Y/N, grabbing her chin she lifted it harshly to have her look at her. “I’m giving you a break, for now.” 

 “Wow, how nice of you, why?” Y/N’s words were slurred from her exhaustion. 

 “You’re gonna need your strength for when your boyfriend gets there, so you can tell him how you feel before he dies,” She said with a chuckle. 

 Y/N’s stomach churned at the thought of her hurting Spencer. Her face red with anger, she said through gritted teeth, “They’re gonna stop this.”

 “Damn Y/N, when will you learn, the good guys don’t always win,” Caroline said, moving from her squatting position to standing. She gripped the hair on the top of Y/N’s head, pulling her head back to have her look at her. “One of your cops shot one of the brothers, so there’s no telling what’s going to happen now, so just you wait.” 

-----------   

 Hotch stood with Rossi outside of the bank as they called in to let them know a medic was on his way in. 

 “Why hasn’t anyone come in yet?” The king, now identified as Chris said to Rossi on the phone. 

 “We’re sending in the medic now, Chris. Tell Oliver help is on the way,” Rossi said, identifying the two men to let them know they had their identity.

 “Hurry.” Chris hung up the phone.

 Rossi, Derek, and Hotch stood watching the live footage from the post outside. After Identifying the two men, the queen took off her mask and looked directly into the camera. They watched as Green, the medic agent, entered Oliver collapsed. 

 “This is not good, Aaron,” Rossi said.

 “Morgan, tell Green to make a move before Chris does,” Hotch ordered Derek. 

 “Green, you gotta go, Green, go,” Derek said into his mic. 

 Green leaned up from over Oliver now dead body, reaching into his bag for his gun. Before he could get a shot off, Chris’ anger struck and shot Green right in the chest, then one right in his head.

 They all stood in disbelief shaking their heads. 

 Back at Quantico, Spencer rushed down to Penelope’s office where Kevin was. Hotch called him and told him they had gotten a video feed from Caroline of Y/n.

 With every step he took, he felt lighter. Knowing there was a video gave him hope and almost felt like security.  

 “Kevin, Hotch said you have a video of Y/N,” Spencer said, leaning down to look at the screen. His voice shook with anticipation and order.  

 “Yeah, uh, let me just skip to the part--” Kevin began running the mouse over the video bar but Spencer stopped him. 

 “Don’t skip, I need to watch the whole thing,” Spencer told him. 

 “I don’t know if you want too,” Kevin said looking at Spencer sympathetically. 

 “I need to, Kevin.” 

 He didn’t care if she was yelling at him that she hated him, he needed to see the woman he loved. He knew what it was like to be tortured like this and he didn’t want her to go through two days of pain and suffering like he did. He hated that thought. He hated it so much that he almost wanted to throw up. 

 Kevin sighed and clicked play. Spencer watched with horror as Y/N screamed in pain. Tears filled his eyes as he watched his love in pain. He wanted to throw up now, and his hand was ready to reach for a trash can to do so. 

  “They’re gonna stop this,” Y/N sang a laugh taking over her at the end. “And Honey, believe me Spencer will know what to do.”

 When the name Honey left Y/N’s lips, Spencer was sucked back into another memory. 

 “She called me Honey, a mock to my southern background I always thought. But the first time she called me it was when I moved into a new apartment, and she was still being nice at this time.” 

 His feeling of nausea went away as he now knew where she was and that gave him a good feeling. 

 “An apartment, that’s where she is,” Spencer said, wiping the stray tears that he let fall. “Kevin I need you to look up apartments or properties, things like that, bought in the name Caroline Roberts.” 

 Kevin began typing on the computer, all different receipts popping up on the screen. None showing any apartments or properties in her name. 

 “There’s nothing man, I’m sorry,” Kevin said as he came up with nothing. 

 Spencer wanted to throw something. He wasn’t mad at Kevin, he wasn’t, he was furious at Caroline and himself. She probably used a fake name, a stolen card or she’s in an abandoned building. So many thoughts were circling his mind it made him want to pull his hair out.   

 Why didn’t he just stay with her this morning? That could’ve prevented all of this. He felt helpless, and all he wanted to do was hold Y/N in his arms, but he couldn’t. 

 His brain raked through everything he was told about Caroline. How she had to have the satisfaction of watching someone suffer, how she had to watch her victim fall apart. That’s when he knew. 

 “There’s gotta be more. She’s going to give us another message.”     

-------------

 Emily had received a call from Clyde Easter, giving her some information on the mystery woman. Easter informed her that she had been a part of robberies back while Emily was in Paris she had heard about, but the woman had no partners. 

 “What if the smaller banks were training runs for the Stratton brothers?” Rossi asked. Spencer, JJ, and Emily were still back at Quantico while Hotch, Rossi, and Morgan were still at the scene. 

 “Well, it could be. She took two relatively amateur thugs and turned them into an elite team of efficient robbers,” Derek said.  

 “And don’t forget, we found out from Y/N that Caroline Roberts is the head of the operation,” Hotch added. “She could have helped the female unsub train the Stratton brothers.”

 “But why? To turn them into patsies?” Emily asked, confused. 

 “All right, so let’s look at it. Up until now they’ve been highly organized, striking only on deposit days when the most amount of cash is on hand,” JJ said, verbally having them take a step back to look at the whole picture.  

 “But today’s different, it’s their first Saturday hit, where families are present, more foot traffic throughout the day, and their leader has taken someone captive who is a federal agent,” Spencer said, his voice cracking when he spoke about Y/N. 

 “It’s a riskier attack,” Will spoke. 

 “We should consider the media attention, too,” Hotch said, looking at Will. “It’s the first time they’ve had an audience.” 

 “That might be why the female unsub is so vain, she wants to look good for the cameras,” Emily posed. 

 “She searches the bank but doesn’t actually look for a means of escape,” Rossi stated confused as he watched the footage of the woman walking around the bank. “She appears to be almost enjoying the situation.”

 “We know the brothers are in it for the money, but what are Caroline and the mystery woman in it for?” Hotch asked.  

------------

 Y/N gasped as the cold water hit her face. Her eyes shot open and met Caroline’s, who was holding a bucket that she filled with water. 

 “Rise and shine Honey,” she said with a sickening smile. “My people are trying to get out, they’re getting a little antsy. And get this Chris, one of the guys, he thinks he’s in charge.” She laughed at her words. Caroline was trying to make conversation, her sadistic way of torture being that she would act like a friend than an enemy.

 “Haha, that’s funny,” Y/N said, giving a fake laugh. She knew Caroline liked to pull the strings from behind the curtain. It was her way of getting whatever she wanted.

 “Your team I believe has also discovered that my partner has an accomplice in the bank, took them long enough. They’ve found out that we wanted them there.” She was laughing as though saying it took them long enough.

 “Wait, there’s another one?” Y/N asked, confused. She had no idea Caroline would work with so many people that could take control. 

 She nodded her head as the response to the question. 

 “It’s gonna be a huge blast watching them, well, be a part of a blast,” Caroline said, revealing that she had more planned than Y/N initially thought. 

 “No, they’ll find out, they will.” Y/N shook her head furiously, tears streaming down her face again. She had given up on trying to stop them. 

 This was the first step of her unraveling. She had given up on trying to stop tears and her body was just falling into every word she said. This was not what she wanted to happen, she needed to fight back.

 “Yeah, I don’t think so.” Caroline placed her hands on her hips. A pout on her face as she looked at Y/N with fake sympathy.  

 “Okay-” Caroline rubbed her hands together as she got excited for what was to come next- “It’s time!” 

 “Time for what?” Y/N asked, not amused by her excitement. 

 “Time for you to confess your feelings for Spencer of course,” She scoffed in disbelief that Y/N would even ask such a question. She brought the IPad back over to pull up the live video feed. 

 Y/N watched as what looked like Will enter the building. “Will?” 

 “Is that his name? I didn’t know, JJ’s husband though right?” Caroline asked looking at Y/N who didn’t respond but watch the screen intently. 

 “Well, he shot Chris’ brother Oliver, so this should end well,” Caroline said excitedly. 

 “No, no, stop this, Caroline he has a son, a beautiful son, don’t let him hurt Will.” Y/N’s voice hadn’t been so pleading yet. She couldn’t dare watch as the love of JJ’s life and the father of her son die. She knew Caroline deep down inside her had some morals, for what she didn’t quite know but she knew it was there.  

 “Yeah, can’t do that.” 

 Y/N kept pleading her voice cracking as tears fell down her face. He has a vest on, he has a vest on, she repeated in her head. Will walked in with his hands up, Chris pointing the gun at him as he entered.

 “Let these people go,” Will said to Chris. 

 “All right, you, you and you-” Christ pointed to a woman and two children. “The kids, get out.” The mom and two kids ran out of the bank. 

 Y/N let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. She was relieved that the kids got out safe. 

 “Hey, what’s your name?” Chris asked Will. He had lowered his gun by his side by now, but Will still kept his arms up. 

 “William LaMontagne Jr., MPD,” Will answered. Chris looked back to the woman before smiling in a mocking way. 

 The next moments played in slow motion as Chris turned back around and shot Will. 

 “No!” Y/N cried. He has a vest on, he has a vest, she kept saying to herself. The video feed then cut out as Will fell to the ground. 

 “Oh, that sucks,” Caroline winced.

 “JJ, I’m so sorry,” Y/N whispered to herself. She was apologizing like how she used to in college. That was Caroline’s know that she was getting into Y/N’s head.

-----------

 “How’s JJ?” Spencer asked Penelope over the phone. He was with Kevin in Penelope’s office in Quantico still, everyone else at the scene. 

 “It’s bad, Reid,” Penelope responded. Not only was Spencer worried sick about Y/N but now his best friend’s husband could be dead. 

 “I should be, we’ve learned everything we can from here,” Spencer said as he began to pace around the room. 

 He wanted to throw up again. There had been no word on Y/N since the video and his mind was thinking the worse. No one could go look for her because one: all teams were deployed to help with the bank. And two: because they had no idea where she could be. 

  He was really trying to get rational thought back, he really was, but it was hard. He was in love with her and all rational thoughts are clouded by his overwhelming desire to hold her. He needed to do it, to smell her shampoo, to feel her soft skin, and to kiss her lips. 

 “No, you can help more by helping me and your brain works faster than mine,” Penelope said, typing on her computer swiftly. “And Hotch told you to stay there remember?”

 “Yeah, but seeing what’s going on outside doesn’t help us inside, or finding Y/N.” Spencer’s eyes went to the TV with the news on.

 Spencer could hear Penelope’s shrug of sympathy. He could feel the pout she was giving, and it only made him feel worse.  

 “Kevin, can you pull up the surveillance feed prior to Will being shot?” Spencer asked, trying to stay focused on the task at hand. That was really difficult.  

 “Sure, what are we looking for?” Kevin asked as he began to pull it up. 

 “The female unsub disappeared once before if she wasn’t looking for an escape--” 

 “Reid, you need to see this,” Penelope cut Spencer off. 

 Popping up on Kevin’s computer was a now live feed, but not of the bank. It was Y/N sitting in the chair of the apartment she was being held captive in.

 “Garcia, is this live?” Spencer asked getting closer to the screen as he saw Y/N scream when Caroline put the taser to her back again. He winced as he watched her cry. All he wanted to do was reach through the screen to save her. 

 “Yes, it is.” Penelope’s voice was cracking from her tears.

“Say it,” Caroline sneered, grabbing Y/N by the back of her hair and pulling her head back to look at the camera. “Tell him what you’ve been so afraid to say because of me.” 

 “I love you.” Her voice was thick as she tried not to cry and she was panting from the pain still.

 Spencer stood speechless, that wasn’t what he was expecting to hear. Not at a time like this at least. 

 This isn’t how she wanted to do it, not at all. She wanted to tell him while they sat and read, or when they laid in bed at night and talked into the early morning hours, she didn’t want to tell him like this. 

 “Oh come on you can do better than that.” Caroline’s words were seething and evil as she enjoyed watching the woman battle with her emotions. “Tell him all about how you feel, because if you don’t you won’t be able to repeat it again.” 

 They were empty threats, Y/N knew that Caroline wouldn’t kill her yet.

 Y/N breathed in deeply, a fatal attempt to compose herself before she spoke. “I love you, Spencer Reid. I love you more than anything I could ever love. I love how you know exactly what I’m thinking when I can’t express myself. I love how you hold my hand when you can tell I’m nervous. I love-” she choked up as her tears began to roll down her flushed cheeks.

  “I love how when you get excited you overly talk with your hands. The way you smile when you talk about a book, makes my heart soar. When you make me a cup of coffee in the morning, I know that’s how I want to spend every morning until I die. I love the thought of you holding our children and teaching them how to read. I love the thought of you holding me while I cry over how stressed I am with work and kids and you telling me everything’s going to be okay. I can’t even breathe at the thought of not loving you, because I-I never thought I would have or need someone like you before. Everyone talks about their great love. I never thought I would have one, but you’re it, Spencer. You’re my great love.” 

 When she finished, her eyes were filled with tears that she tried to keep at bay until the end. Finally, she released them. She was shaking, not only from the sobs raking her body but because she was cold. Her wet hair on her neck made her shiver as Caroline let it go. She knew that Caroline wanted more, she always did, and when she did that is when she would tell Spencer about the bomb.  

 Spencer watched the live feed. His own eyes welling up with tears. 

 “Spencer.” Penelope’s voice was quiet and sad as her voice was heard over the phone.

 “We have to find her.” He was pacing, hand grabbing the back of his head, breathing heavily. “She’s gonna be okay, she’s strong, she won’t be beaten,” he muttered the words under his breath. 

 “Anything else, Honey?” Caroline asked Y/N, she was squatted in front of Y/N. 

 “Spence, I’m sorry, you got to stop them you’ve gotta- she’s got a -” a Harsh slap cut her off. She was trying to tell him something and Caroline wasn’t going to allow it.  Caroline stood up and turned off the camera, the feed becoming static again.

 “No,” Spencer’s voice cracked as Caroline shut the camera off. “Kevin pull up the videos of the female unsub.”

 Spencer stared at the blueprints of the building, following the path the female unsub was on from the videos. “She was following the electrical lines…” he finally knew what was about to happen. “Gas mains. Oh, no.” 

 “Garcia, get them out of there!” Spencer exclaimed to Penelope over the phone. 

 Penelope, Strauss, and Rossi ran out of the van. Rossi yelled into his watch to abort. 

-

 Caroline held the screen of the live feed she was able to get off the bank. Y/N watched as some of the agents walked in. 

 “No, no,” she whispered tears rolling down her cheeks. An explosion was heard and the feed cut out. “No!”

 “Now we’re getting somewhere.”   

Tag List (let me know if you want to be added!!):

@throughparisallthroughrome​ @word-scribbless​ @nintendumbfuck​ @confused-and-really-hungry​ @justine-en​ @andiebeaword​ @itsarayofsunshine​ @baby-i-am-fireproof​ @abitofeverythinggg​ @nanocoool​ @marceline-is-my-spirit-animal​ @fancyfaucet​ @im-a-raging-gay​ @atletino @mo-whore @peterparkersdestiny​ @bandsandjill​ @mbowles23-blog​ @sarcasm-n-insomnia​ @citrussirus​ @nerual222 @april-14-blog​ @reidloversisforever @heavenlyholland​ @justawildmarebae​ @sana-li​ @thesailbells​

[purplecantaloupe]

**gif is not mine**

i was reading a calum fic just now and thought back to my old writings which sprung this idea in my head and i had to whip my laptop out and get to work. the lowercase and awkward grammar is intended ig i hope you enjoy <3

i had previously written a request for fwb!cal and as my mom would say “not my best work” but as i would say “it fucking sucked balls” so im making this kind of the rewrite for that monstrosity.

anon, if youre out there this is for you bby i hope this satisfies your soul <33

Explanation: so basically this is fwb!cal along with sub!cal and a bit of femdom!y/n which y/n gets pissed off that calum won’t interact with her, conflict/resolution as some might say.

Warnings: femdom!y/n; sub!cal; this is a WHOLE lotta smut, a few minutes of angst here and there, and a little fluff at the end (bc who doesn’t love a happy ending?)

Also I’m sorry for the spacing, I really don’t know what happened there :/

it was the last straw with calum, he’d been constantly on his phone the whole day and since it had been pouring outside for the most part you couldn’t go nurture your garden like you had intended. all day he’d been sitting and giggling at his phone, maybe the boys sending him some stupid texts or maybe it was some of his fans tagging him in memes on twitter, who the fuck knows but y/n was thoroughly annoyed. being stuck in the house all day with calum and not interacting physically with him had gotten to you, he hadn’t even said a word to you since breakfast! you even asked if he wanted to fuck around just to pass the time away and he just shook his head and mumbled out a, “not in the mood.” needless to say, you were irritated. so irritated to the point that you stood up from your comfortable position on the couch with a huff, stalking to your room and shut the door with your foot before laying face down on your bed, finally being engulfed in silence from his constant snickers and you could hear the rain hitting your bedroom window as it gave you a sense of serenity.

after lying on your bed for what felt like maybe ten minutes, you hear the front door open and shut, assuming that calum went out for a smoke. this was the time that you took to go out and grab as many snacks and anything that you’d need for the whole night, having the whole weekend off from work, you decided that you’d be staying in your room, giving calum a taste of his own medicine. after raiding your shared kitchen, you head back to your bedroom and decide to find something on netflix to watch and drown out calum when he comes back.

after awhile of mindlessly watching something on netflix for who knows how long, you hear the door open and shut and a couple pairs of feet walking around downstairs before they make their way up them and pass your room. feminine giggles erupt from the stranger and you hear calum’s door shut and you knew exactly what was going to happen in the next few minutes. you thanked every god above that you couldn’t hear what they were doing behind the closed bedroom door, every now and then you could hear a squeal from the end of the hall which only made you turn your television up louder.

you and calum made the agreement when you started your friends with benefits situation, you would be allowed to see other people and do whatever you wanted but you had to have some type of respect for the other; if you had another friend over, you’d be considerate and let the other person know ahead of time. to which he did not inform you that he was having a friend come over. you’d tried earlier to get it on but he rejected you which made your mood skyrocket into the ground along with your heart. it wasn’t calum’s rejection that stung you but the fact that he wouldn’t even give you the time of day without letting out a sigh and mumbling an answer before giggling at his screen again. suddenly it dawned on you, he wasn’t giggling at his phone because the guys of his fans were being funny, no, he was giggling because he was texting the girl that is probably laying in his bed right now, in the same spot you were lying in just the night before. the sounds have subsided but the ache in your heart stayed the same, ‘guess the last few months have just been time wasted that you could’ve been spending on somebody else’ you thought.

this was an all new low for calum, sure you’d had your fair share of other hook-ups but they never were there when calum was home, you had respect for him and yourself but apparently the feelings weren’t reciprocated. the message has been heard loud and clear. he didn’t care about you nearly as much as you care about him.

you hear silence from calum’s side of the hall which you take as a sign they’ve both passed out to which you make a break for it. jogging down the stairs and to your car through the rain that still hasn’t let up, you climb in the vehicle and you’re on your own to find yourself a meaningless hookup.

-

about an hour later you have your side piece’s head between your thighs as you’re belting out every curse word you can think of, your mind racing through nothing but tunnels as your vision darkens sans the stars you see around your head. jason was the nicest man you’d met since you moved to los angeles, he knew how to treat a woman’s body but also how to make you feel like you were floating. of course you two didn’t go farther than just sex, jason didn’t want a boyfriend/girlfriend relationship and you had calum at home so nothing would come of this affair.

jason came up and pressed his lips to yours, laying one hand up next to your head and the other was laying between your folds, collecting your orgasm before pulling away slightly and inserting his pointer finger into his mouth and sucking you off of him before he slides his middle finger into your mouth letting you both have a taste before you attach tongues again, tasting you with a bit of mint thrown into the mix. he pulls his fingers out of you mouth to blindly slide a condom on, never breaking the kiss before he slides himself in your tight walls then returns his hand to the side of your face. he definitely wants as big as calum is but he definitely knows how to use his cock, swirling his hips to make a beautiful rhythm between your bodies. much to your demise he pulls his mouth away from yours and attaches it to your neck and toying with your breasts with his free hand. he bit and nibbled on your neck, making sure to keep you stimulated, earning light squeals from you as he gently bit your throat then swirled his tongue to soothe the sting, though his hips never faltering. your hands were buried in his hair, tugging when he would do something you particularly liked which made him want to burst right there. jason was a peculiarly attractive man, he had long enough brown hair that you could grab ahold of and tug on as much as you wanted to, (calum’s was long enough to pull but you couldn’t really get a good grip on it) his eyes were a deep shade of emerald but he never really kept eye contact long enough for you to notice the little specks like calum’s deep brown eyes when the sun hits them just right you can see the flecks of yellow and almost auburn. jason’s hands were smaller than calum’s, he could hold your whole breast in his hand while jason’s hand was smaller and his fingers didn’t reach quite the same spots inside of you as calum’s long digits do.

jason’s hips practically had a mind of their own filling you up deliciously downstairs while his hands and mouth explored your upper body, never staying in one place which had your mind reeling.

by the time you both spilled over the edge, you were putty in his hands, despite your body’s buzzing of the aftershock, you gave jason a wave and jogged to your car from the rundown apartment building that jason lived in, he’s a messier man than calum ever could be, never really cleans up after himself. you would never judge somebody for their income or their living style but having known ahead of time you’d expect him to clean up a little before you’d arrive… maybe he did, that thought alone sent shivers down your spine. the fact there were multiple pizza boxes and other pieces of garbage lying around the living room as you two were walking through to the bedroom; calum was one to always make sure that if anyone was coming over, even if the maid he’d hired came over, he’d always make sure the house was presentable.

once you left jason’s and embarrassingly compared him to your other affair, you decided to go to home, making sure once you parked that you didn’t see his friend’s car there, which you didn’t and you walked up to your bedroom. on the way through the house you noticed calum sitting on the couch with his phone in his hands and his attention on the television, he hadn’t even acknowledged that you were home. you silently scoffed to yourself before shaking your head and ascend up the stairs to your room. in the moment you found yourself wanting calum to want you.

you found (in your opinion) your sexiest bra and panty set that you were aware that calum hadn’t known about; he never needed to know about your lingerie collection due to never having to really seduce him, he was the one who always started things off and tonight that was going to change. for once in you and calum’s relationship, you were the one who was going to show him the ropes, you are going to be in control. once you were satisfied in your outfit choice, you went to your bathroom and showered jason’s funk and sweat off of you then made your way to your bedroom, and made sure you had moisturized yourself before blow drying your hair and making it look almost as if you actually were trying to get calum’s attention, which you were but you wanted the fact to be subtle. you changed and slid a long white shirt on top that was almost see through which you most definitely could see the dark blue lace of the lingerie which complimented your skin almost too well.

you made your way downstairs, the first floor being lit up by the spotlights on the ceiling as well as the tv, calum’s head was still watching the show he was so invested in until you walked past the screen and turned to look at him innocently. you turned back around to the dvd movies under the tv cabinet and bent over, your behind stuck out from under the shirt just enough that calum could see what you were wearing underneath. calum let out an annoyed sigh as he craned his neck to keep watching his show as you picked out a random movie. you stood tall and looked at him with all of the pent up annoyance you’d suffered with all day.

“calum what the fuck is up with you today?” you say almost yelling.

his reaction was only making you angrier by the second, he barely even moved a muscle he just shrugged one shoulder and put his eyes back on the screen. you tightened your grip on the dvd case before you stood directly in front of him to block his view to which he just looked down at his phone and started scrolling through any form of social media. you grabbed his phone and laid it on the table, despite your subconscious saying to throw it as hard as you could against the wall, it fell to the table with a light clunk noise. you leaned over in front of him, hands on either side of the chair he was sitting in, giving him a good view down the front of your shirt but he stared past your eyes to the wall behind you. you gently but firmly took his chin between your thumb and index fingers and turned his face to look at you, which he looked into your eyes for a brief moment before he averted them to your legs.

“calum i swear to god if you don’t fucking look at me i’m gonna go batshit,” you say, your hands trembling with rage. “please just tell me what’s wrong, i can’t take this,” your voice cracks towards the end and you damn your genes for making you so sensitive during confrontation.

calum heard your voice crack and he looked at you, finally saying a real sentence to you, which broke the crack to your heart and shattered you like the porcelain doll that was your heart.

“we need to end things,” he simply said.

the dvd in your hands clattered to the floor and duke ran over and started sniffing to inspect it; this was your first time seeing duke all day despite your heart shattering you would’ve scooped him up and rubbed his ears like he loves. your eyes never left calum’s and vice versa. he could see your heart shattering and his was cracking straight down the middle, he never thought that this day would come but he finally found a girl that he thinks could be the one he could finally settle down with and open his heart to, that girl wasn’t you though, so he had to take the first step into winning this woman over.

“it’s her isn’t it? the bird that you had over here today?” she says, tears threatening to fall but staying at bay until calum’s nod confirms her heartbreak, the tears fall just as the pieces of her heart fail to stay together.

“can she fuck you better than i can?” y/n says confidently, despite the tears making paths along her cheeks. calum was stunned, he’d never heard such words come from y/n, even in the hottest moments of passion. she kept her eyes on his as she slowly climbed up into his lap and sat upon his thighs, caging him into his seat. “come on cal, tell me, i’m the only one who can get you this hard, i know how to make you feel good. come on baby, tell me and i’ll give you what you want, i’ll make you feel so fucking good.” he had to avoid her eyes otherwise he’d give in, those were his weakness, the eyes were the windows to the soul and y/n’s was bared to him, he was totally under her spell as he felt his hands going up her waist, meaning to push her off but only brought her lips to his. the day’s activities truly only made him want her more, he’d never wanted to hurt y/n by giving her the silent treatment but he had no idea how to bring up the fact that he wanted to start dating someone, for real. having fucked mariah only made him want y/n more and her words, those damn naughty words only made him realize just how much this situation meant to him, sure he wasn’t in love with y/n, no but she meant so much to him that he couldn’t even remember the other woman’s name with y/n on top of him. y/n made him weak and she knew it.

“p-please,” he whimpered which made y/n smirk, he hated that she had so much power over him. she on the other hand was loving the fact that she was the alpha right now.

“please what? baby, i need to hear your words, what to you want?” y/n knew exactly what she was doing, calum had done this same taunting to her many times. she wasn’t going to let calum get away this easily, this entire relationship was built on sex and this was the way she was going to win him back.

“w-want your mouth, your pussy, your hand, a-anything, please, love.” calum’s brain was swimming, he didn’t even know the words that were coming out of his mouth, his mind was in overdrive and she was driving him even further up the wall.

“should i give you what you want? i think you’ve been quite naughty, think you can get rid of me that easily? you’d be mistaken,” y/n continues, grinding herself down on cal’s cock, keeping a steady rhythm. she was not going to let her emotions and need get to her this time, she was in control for once and she wanted to revel in it.

once feeling y/n grinding down on him, he laid his head in the crook of her neck, whimpering as the uncomfortable hardening in his pants. his hands were attached to her hips like glue, trying to get her to move faster against him, anything to cause friction, y/n took the opportunity while he was distracted to take her long shirt off and show him her set. y/n’s breasts were perfectly hung in the push up bra, her tits almost spilling out, causing calum to stare at them as they bounced with her movements. he set his hands lower to grab onto her lace-clad ass and grip it tightly before laying a quick spank to it before he massaged his hands over both cheeks again to soothe the sting. her whimper was heard through the apartment just louder than the tv was playing, sending a rush of blood to calum’s cock and wetness to pool in her panties.

much to calum’s demise she climbed off of calum, her tits directly in his face and he sent his tongue out to get any bit of skin he could reach. she grabbed a throw pillow off the couch and sat on her knees in front of calum, her mouth watering at the sight of him hardening by the second, who knew calum was such a sub.

y/n gently tugged on calum’s shirt and he quickly pulled it off before she leaned up and kissed his chest gently, running her bottom lip all the way up. he tilts his head back as she uses her tongue to lead her mouth to his then leaned up and pecked his lips all so gently. if he was going to end this, she wanted to make the most of it. he of course kissed her back, grabbing the sides of her neck gently to keep her still for him, savoring the taste of her lips. they pulled away at the same time, breathless, and y/n went to work, she grabbed onto the waistband of his boxers, careful not to pinch his skin and gently peeled the boxers down to reveal him. she kissed his tip then bit her lips, licking the bit of precum off her mouth before her throat worked and spit into her hand, bringing it up to him and pumped the bit of his shaft closest to his balls before she took the head in her mouth and sucked and licked the tip, making sure he was lubricated. his head was spinning at the feeling of her mouth on him, she was an expert on calum’s body and they both knew it. she pulled off a bit before looking up at him,

“if you try to fuck my face, i wont let you cum at all tonight,” her eyes teary but dark and full of dominancy—he’d never seen this side of y/n before—he nodded and looked at her like a little kid, agreeing to anything if she’d keep going. she then bottomed him out, both of her hands on either of his thighs, taking him all the way in her mouth and sitting there for a second before coming back up for air, then doing the same, her nose touching his pelvis, breathing in and then out before pulling off of him, a trail of spit connecting her mouth to his cock. The gags and deep breaths coming for y/n make calum come back to reality, her head bobbing at almost a professional pace, he grabbed onto her hand and tugged on it, she shook her head as if to say that she wasn’t done, he tugged on her once more before she pulled off of him and swallowed the mix of precum and spit on her tongue.

“what?” she breathed and before she could say anything else, he motioned for her to come to him, his mouth attaching to hers, this kiss was something neither of them had experienced with each other before, both of them feeling more than just the heat of the moment passion, this kiss was a knee weakening, heart stopping, head spinning passion that they’d never shared before. y/n grabbed onto his face and they slowly stood up with each other, calum wrapping his arms around her thighs and she jumped up onto his torso, their clammy skin acting as glue to hold them together. calum carried her all the way up the stairs, practically kicking y/n’s door in and then shut it by pressing her against it. the kiss was never broken, neither of them wanted to ruin this moment, y/n’s dominant nature, calum’s conflicted mindset and both of their needs to please each other. he peeled her from the coolness of the door and her back was met with the soft fabric of the quilt on top of her bed. her hips were reaching to meet his, and he had to break the kiss, her back was caving a little so they could meet their foreheads,

“i’m never leaving you,” calum whispered as he looked deep into her irises, something only calum did when he was serious, her heart was slowly piecing back together. something told her that he meant more than he was saying but now was not the time. she gently pushed him up and laid him down against her quilt, climbing on top of him and his hands found their favorite place between her hips and her ribs, “please ride my face baby, i need to taste you.” calum whimpered at her and look up at her with almost child-like puppy dog eyes.

“how could i say no,” she whispered and stood up on her bed, looking down at him before sliding her blue laced panties down her legs and threw them across the room, moving up the bed and finding herself sitting right above his mouth and as soon as she was within reach, he was aiming her hole right above his mouth, his breath fanned over her wetness, cooling her heat off as he did and his tongue shot up stiff and flat as he licked a strip up her slit. he slid his hands up from her thighs, grazing her ass before holding onto her lower back holding onto her tightly as if she’d float away. she ground her hips against his mouth, eliciting little whimpers from her mouth, her left hand finding his short hair and her right flew to the headboard, knuckles turning white as her vision went black, her head flew up to face the ceiling, using the headboard to keep her grounded as he sucked on her clit, nipping at it a bit which made her let out a loud squeal of his name and a string of curses. calum seeing and hearing that made him never want it to stop, he made sure to nibble her clit once more. y/n had to do something, she wasn’t on earth, she was on cloud fucking nine and she had to ground herself, she reached behind her and grabbed onto his cock, pumping her fist rapidly before she struck an idea.

“cal, cal ssss-stop,” she hissed and he immediately thought something was wrong, he looked up at her with glossy eyes.

“are you okay, what did i do?” he whispered and gently pushed her up to look at her, this was the same way he’d always done it and he was scared that he’d hurt her.

“nothing, you did absolutely nothing wrong, that was… perfect. i want to try something, if you’re down.” she said and slowly moved down from near his mouth. he looked at her wearily and nodded.

“will it hurt?” he whispered, holy shit he was so fucking cute right now. looking like a little puppy that lost his way home.

“no baby, i want to try a sixty-nine, we’ve never done it before and i want to make you feel good, while you’re making me feel good,” she says and turns around in the reverse cowgirl position but over his mouth, she looks down at him through her legs and he nods for her to sit down. she slowly sits on his mouth and he immediately starts licking and sucking at her hole and her clit simultaneously which sent her almost flying as she bucked her back involuntarily. she leaned down and kissed his tip once again, sending a wave through him which only got better as she sunk down on him, her chin grazing his lower abdomen. she let out a gag noise and gargled in her throat to keep her esophagus calm, calum practically came just from the friction and the noises she was making also from her own pleasure. she sat up pulled herself off of his tongue and turned around, “such a pretty boy,” she whispers and runs her finger down his cheek gently, “put your arms up here,” y/n says a little louder. she sits upon his sternum, taking his hands in hers and laid small pecks on his knuckles before she raised them above his head, laying them on the posts of her headboard, “keep your hands here,” she whispers. calum nods and follows her orders. his grip tightens when she runs her fingernail gently up his sensitive shaft, he gasps and bites his lip.

“please baby, i need it,” calum whimpers and looks down at her. the smirk on her face makes calum almost angry, they both know that he’s putty and she’s drinking it up shamelessly.

“are you my little slut? thinking that you can fuck another girl in our house while i’m just down the hall?” she whispers through her teeth, anger just at her surface. “do you think you should be punished for being a little slut?” y/n says, her fingernail still grazing his swollen cock. calum’s brain quite literally cant form a full sentence, y/n’s words, her touch, his guilt, his brain is swimming in mush.

“please mama, punish me,” he whimpers “i’ve been so fucking bad,” he grips the posts tight, his knuckles turning white.

“roll over and lay on your stomach, hands go back just as they were,” she commands and sits up to let him roll over, even though she’s showing dominance she’s still trying to be gentle, calum thought. he feels a sting on his bare ass along with a loud smack. he grips the posts in his hands and bites his lip, his gasp is the only thing that is heard in the silence of the room. y/n gains a little confidence and slaps his ass again, biting her lip as she watches it bounce against the friction of her hand.

“such a bad boy,” she whispers into his ear. she’s leaning beside his head, looking him directly in the eyes. cal’s face flushes and she leans down to kiss his cheek, “if any of this is overwhelming in anyway, please tell me to stop,” she says, totally serious and runs her hand through his hair gently. he nods and she leans down to peck his lips softly.

“please keep going,” he whimpers against her mouth, “been so bad i need to be reprimanded,” he says, shooting her a smirk.

y/n goes back between his legs, toying with his balls, laying another smack on his ass, making his body jolt up. she sits up, spreading his ass cheeks and spits a wealthy amount onto his puckered hole, he lets out a high pitched whimper while he anticipates her next move. looking up at him as she uses her hand that is free from his sack and uses her thumb to spread her saliva around, lubing him up nicely. she looks up at him for approval to keep going which he grants quickly. her thumb dips into his tight asshole, he lays his head into her pillows, tightening his grip on her bed posts and shuts his eyes as she stretches him out.

“holy shiiiiiit,” he whimpers after he turns his head back to try to get a glance at her. she slides her thumb out making calum whimper at the loss but is quickly reassured as she slides her pointer finger in, sucking his balls into her mouth, his brain is overwhelmed with pleasure and all his body can do is spasm at her touch. his orgasm just around the corner. y/n knows his body language too well and can tell that he’s so close. she doesn’t want him to release just yet.

“so needy,” y/n says and bites onto his ass cheek. “think you’ve been punished enough?” she asks leaving one last smack on his ass before she nudges his hip for him to roll over.

he immediately rolls onto his back and tries to grip her hair, wanting some type of control which she slaps his hand. hard. “hands back up…” she says taking his wrists and leans him up back to the posts “...and lean up against the headboard,” she adds and helps him sit up, “I’m gonna ride you, keep your hands on the posts.” he nods, his ability to conversate has gone out the window along with his sobriety. y/n is his drug and he’s an addict.

she reaches up onto her headboard to use as leverage before she turns around, getting in the reverse cowgirl position then she aligns herself and slides down on his cock, sighing at how he fills her up perfectly.

calum can’t stop staring at her ass bouncing deliciously on his cock, the way she wraps around him so tightly. her movements start to speed up as his cock is hitting her spongy button, her body writhing above his. she’s using her hands to keep her leverage which gives calum the best angle, his moans mixing with hers.

“fuck, your pussy swallows my cock so good, always,” he whimpers which brings y/n so close to her edge.

“oh my god i’m so close, fuck,” she moans out, he takes her vulnerability as a chance as he takes his hands off of the posts, lifting her ass up and starts fucking up into her, her screams start flowing out like water. he pulls her back against his front, bringing his hand up to her throat squeezing just enough to make her breathing labor.

she starts grinding down on him, pushing his cock into her g-spot and she’s done for, her orgasm takes her over as she gasps. his hand moves from her throat to her breasts, swallowing them with his hands and before he can comprehend the squeezing and clenching of her pussy, he’s releasing inside of her, both of them trembling as she leans back against him and he leans against the headboard, both catching their breaths.

“you think you can just leave me for somebody else? we both know damn well that nobody else can fuck you like that,” she whispers, her head leaning against his shoulder. he shakes his head with a breathless chuckle, his mind still in subspace.

“god i love you,” he whispers, biting his lip.

“calum-“ you start to which he interrupts.

“no, y/n nobody cares like you, nobody loves like you, nobody feels like you. you are the most unique person i’ve ever met; I don’t want anybody else to have you and I don’t want to have anybody else.” he says and runs his hand up your leg and intertwines your fingers.

“are you just saying this stuff because you’re still in subspace?” you whisper, giggling a little making you clench around him which makes both of you let out a little moan at the realization that he’s still inside of you.

“no, i’ve been thinking about this for a while, i tried to distract myself with other girls but i physically cant fathom not having you in my life,” he says. your heart stops and you look back at him, biting your lip, your mouth not being able to move.

calum, Calum, calum, Calum Hood, the man that you had moved in with when you moved to los angeles, the man who so graciously took you out your first night and there you met jason. you’d drunkenly stumbled into him and made a complete fool out of yourself, he thought you were charismatic and gorgeous so after sharing a drink or two, you exchanged numbers and the rest was history. if it weren’t for calum, you wouldn’t have met him. if you didn’t have that same night, all those drinks with jason, you and calum wouldn’t have started this whole situation together, you two wouldn’t be here. right now. together. his cock still inside you, warming and filling you up. that first time that you two shared wasn’t only the first for you two, it was the first time for you in general. he was your first and your last (a couple in between but we won’t ruin the moment). he was your first passionate kiss as well, even though you shared it just an hour ago. now you can see, he’s the only man you could ever see or think about. in a crowded club, on stage, in your house, in your bed, he consumed you.

“y/n please say something,” he says his voice low, nervous, he brings you out of your thoughts. you literally couldn’t say anything so you did the next best thing, you reach around yourself and cup the side of his face, looking into his eyes—your favorite color—then kiss him, the most magical, sparkle between the two of you had lit. You lift yourself off of him, causing yourself to whimper into his mouth at the emptiness in your abdomen before you turn fully around climbing onto your knees, feeling a subtle drip between your legs. he wraps his arms around your waist and he sits up with you, reciprocating the kiss as well not daring to break it. he runs his hand up your clammy back and gently lays you back into the bed, your hands burying themselves into his hair out of muscle memory.

cal runs his hands down your front, gently taking your breasts into his hands then runs his mouth down to your neck, leaving love marks into your tender skin. your eyes roll to look at the ceiling, calum’s touch so gentle like he’s afraid he’d break you. you both were so fragile, so vulnerable. his mouth taunts at your right nipple, his hips grinding down into your core. the heat rising in your stomach, you whimper into the quiet air.

“calum, come here,” you whisper, your hand tugging on his hair and he lifts himself up, his mouth hovering over yours.

“yes?” he whispers, his lips grazing over yours and his breath fans over your lips and chin.

“i love you,” you whisper. he chuckles, his smile bright and his eyes squint. you meet him in the middle as he kisses your lips, both of your tongues dancing together.

he pulls away just for a second to look into your bright eyes—full of love and lust— for your consent. with a gentle nod he slides himself in once more, filling you up even more than before the extra full feeling being your newfound love.

you suddenly feel just how sensitive you were which causes a whimper to escape your mouth and your pussy to clench around him. he groans in your ear at the friction and he bites onto your earlobe.

his hips start thrusting at a faster pace, knowing neither of you were going to last much longer due to the sensitivity you both were sharing. he swivels his hips just at the right angle causing him to hit your g-spot and you let out a yelp.

“oh god yes, please cal, fuck me,” you whimper, he obliges. his hips going on the same route to meet your g-spot with his tip repeatedly, each time you clench around him. he goes even harder and faster until he has you seeing stars, your eyes meeting as you feel a snap in your abdomen, your body convulsing under him at the same time he snaps as well climaxing inside of you, his hand coming up to meet yours beside your head, intertwining your fingers and squeezing.

as he pulls out you both wince and he lays down next to you. he pulls you into his side and lays a kiss where your shoulder and neck meet. you smile dazed and hum intertwining your fingers with the hand that’s wrapped around your waist. he outstretches your hands and plays with your fingertips, making you giggle.

“i love you,” you whisper.

calum hums, “say it again,” he whispers.

“i love you… i love you, i love you, i love you,” you whisper right back and he smiles against your shoulder, looking at your hands as he still plays with your fingers.

“i love you, too,” he whispers and lays another kiss against your neck.

he was also your first love...

[hyunsracha]

for your entertainment — han jisung

word count: 2.3k

summary: jisung panics when he sees cute people. he also stares at them.

so you work at an entertainment store right

where ppl can buy like uhhh movies and albums n merch n stuff!!

u like ur job.. it’s one of the least popular stores in the mall so u spend most of ur time organizing and reorganizing with one earbud in listening to music

u have to wear a boring grey t-shirt as uniform so u spice things up by making the rest of u look good

everyone else does the same thing i mean … ur manager lia wears purple eyeshadow ok

ur other manager chris doesn’t even try to look good! and it’s so fucking annoying u wanna knock his fuck 24/7

random girl: hehe<3 can i have ur number?

chris: only if u sign up for our rewards program<3

u, angry bc u haven’t sold any rewards programs in a week: >:(

ur other two co-workers are hyunjin and jeongin.

hyunjin has a pretty popular youtube dancer cover channel, but for Copyright Reasons it’s not paying the bills

and jeongin is a senior in high school and this is his first job and u just wanna pinch his little cheeks every time u work together

“y/n i swear to god i’m gonna punch u and get fired rn stop POKING MY CHEEKS-”

“he’s just a little baby…*to passing customer* LOOK AT THE BABY!”

“>:(((“

so it’s a tuesday night.

tuesday nights are the fucking best (worst if u love talking to ppl) bc u’ll get like … 2 customers in 4 hours?

it’s 8pm and the mall closes at 9

usually u start vacuuming at 8:30 but at like 7:50 chris was like “GET THE FUCKING VACUUM WE’RE CLOSING RN !!”

jeongin: u do it.

u: no u do it bitch.

jeongin: *sticks out his fist*

u sigh and do rock paper scissors like the baby wants.

and u lose

u fucking lose

and jeongin just cackles, sitting down on the stool behind the registers

so u trudge to the back room and the vacuum, grumbling about how ur older so jeongin should be doing this!!

but it’s fine!

so you’re vacuuming right.

and in storms Han Jisung

yes han jisung is the kinda dude to come to the mall right before closing and go on a shopping spree

he’s got his best friend lee minho in tow, who does Not look happy to be here.

“come on minho!! i need to get season 4 of naruto to finish my collection!!” jisung whines, pulling on his friend’s arm as he stands on his tiptoes to look for the anime section.

“can you keep your voice down?? i have an image, yanno.”

“minho you’re literally here to buy a kelly clarkson album.”

minho grumbles and waddles off towards the cds, where you are...vacuuming...loudly

and minho’s like -____- why are u so fucking loud

like u don’t MEAN to be loud?? but it’s a VACUUM??

so minho’s looking for his beloved kelly clarkson album right,

and jisung comes around the corner, season 4 of naruto in tow.

and he sees you

and nearly drops it

jisung gets crushes very easily okay..

he can’t help it! the boy loves to love (◕‿◕)♡

and u look so cute in ur lil t-shirt!! like a little retail angel!!

so he grabs minho’s arm and DRAGS HIM TO where the movies are

and he panics!

“THEY’RE SO CUTE AAH I WANNA GIVE THEM A BIG FAT HUG-”

“do you mean the person vacuuming -__- loud as hell”

“minho it’s a vacuum.”

so you stop vacuuming and return the vacuum to the back room (and wash ur hands in the bathroom bc the soap smells like lemons and sunshine) and come back to the floor

u have a ton of time until closing so u just. sit.. and start reorganizing the heavy metal albums.

after a while u feel … weird … like ur being watched

so u turn around and. there they are. staring like (・_・)

and ur like “HELLO?!?!” but u don’t say anything

u just give them a Customer Service Smile and a, “can i help you with anything?”

jisung just giggles and shakes his head and minho keeps fuckign staring

mr lee i will knock ur fuck is that what u want

so u shrug and go back to ur sorting, keeping an eye on the CREEPS in ur store.

at 8:55 chris is like “jeongin go close the gate.” n jeongin’s like “FUCK YEAH” bc he gets to hold a big stick

so he’s walking towards the front of the store with his Big Stick when he sees jisung and minho

“what da hell are y’all doing?” is what he thinks but he says, “(: hi! the store closes in five minutes and i’m about to close the front gate. i’m so sorry, but you have to leave now! :)”

so jisung pouts and minho rolls his eyes, dragging his friend out of the store.

jeongin uses his Big Stick to pull the gate down and he locks it at about mid calf level so y’all can get out.

so that night, u go home and do some homework, but ur still thinking about those weirdos.

but! u’ll probably never see them again!

right?

Wrong.

u see them the next day!

they’re still watching u, but they’re closer

and minho looks more irritated.

towards the end of the night, ur Upset and Confused so u go over to them like o_o. What do u want.

and jisung goes JISJSJHTIE

and minho goes, “jisung thinks you’re cute.”

u start to blush, but jisung squeaks, “NO ahah- uh- he likes to talk in third person! he’s jisung ahaha.”

“my name is not jisung i would Hate to be named jisung.”

“WH- why? there’s a soccer player named jisung. and an idol! multiple idols!”

“yeah the guy in nct is 2 years younger than you and has the same name. and what have You done successfully? Quickly-”

“HEY-”

the two boys in front of u bicker while u start zoning out at the wall behind them.

you knew that the boy with blue hair was jisung, but you didn’t know the one with brown hair. and you assumed that they were friends, judging by the .. bonding activity that is staring at an employee.

and jisung wasn’t …. ugly

like he was really … really cute

but staring at people is fucking weird, jisung!!

when u finally snap out of it, u huff, “okay losers. we are closing soon. so you have to leave. but you’re welcome to come back tomorrow if you’re going to actually talk to me and not just stand in the corner! okay?”

the boys nod, grinning at each other before dashing out of the store.

so, like u said, they’re back the next day!

and this time they actually talk to u! Wow!

you’re sitting on the floor in the back of the store, organizing the funko pops for the 70th time when you feel A Presence.

two, actually.

it’s the two boys, sitting on either side of u.

“hi,” jisung says, playing with his fingers in his lap.

“you’re jisung, right? the cute one..” u reply absentmindedly

u hear a choking sound and then Silence

miss jisung ? miss JISUNG ?

he’s alive, but jfc BARELY

u just called him the CUTE ONE?!?!?

paying no mind, u turn to the boy on ur right, “and you are?”

“lee minho. don’t worry, you won’t forget it.”

“was that supposed to be a pick-up line?”

“did it work?”

“no.”

“HAH!” and jisung’s alive again.

u spend the rest of ur shift talking to the boys, telling them all about ur life while they told u about theirs

u learned that minho was a dancer just like hyunjin! but he went to the nearby university to study.

and that’s where he met jisung, who’s a music composition major

...and a soundcloud rapper…

u could help the laugh that pushed past ur lips at his words

“WHY ARE U LAUGHING.”

“a SoundCloud rapper. really, sung?”

“IT’S COOL ヾ(`ヘ´)ﾉﾞ”

u couldn’t imagine him as a ‘cool’ rapper dude

he just looked so fluffy :(

at 8:55, the boys got kicked out by jeongin again, but they stood outside the gate, waiting for u

“What do y’all want.”

“i wanna walk u to ur car:(“

“i don’t.”

“ok minho then Leave.”

“NO DON’T he’s my ride don’t say that to him.”

it’s dark outside, and a warm wind blows through ur hair.

it’s late spring, with summer (and finals) fast approaching.

“walking me to my car...what a gentleman…”

“yeah that’s why you should totally go on a date with me haha.”

“what?”

“what?”

“you said-”

“i didn’t say anything.”

minho sighs from behind u, not understanding why his best friend has to be so damn stupid all the time

u lean on ur driver’s side door, not making eye contact with the boy

u didn’t know how to say bye..no one’s ever walked u to ur car before??

“so…” jisung speaks for u, “can i … have your number? so i don’t show up at the store when you’re not working.” he holds his phone out for u to take, a sheepish smile barely visible due to the lights in the parking lot.

“oh! totally.” you take the phone from him, jolting when ur fingers graze his. u set ur contact as ‘the person sungie likes to stare at~” before giving it back to him.

he chuckles at the name, and u feel something inside of u go DOKIDOKI

when he says goodnight and walks away, minho giving u a quick nod, u lock urself in ur car so u can PANIC

u barely know this boy. he’s a weirdo. why is ur heart going dokidoki

heart STOP IT!!

it only gets worse when u hear the text notification sound from ur phone:

[ unknown ]: do u work tmrw? (^_−)☆ i already miss u

…. frick …. he texts cute

dammit jisung why couldn’t u send the laughing emoji

[ y/n ]: i do ! ^.^ i’ll see u then?

[ creeper ]: wouldn’t miss it~ (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ goodnight!

u nearly slam ur head on the steering wheel.

true to his word, jisung was back the next day

and the day after that

and the day after that

the day after That, u were off, so u didn’t see him

but u guys texted nearly all day!

jisung was just … really easy to talk to :/

and really funny :/

and every time he giggled u just wanted to cry a little bit :/

and u feel like a CLOWN bc u have a CRUSH on this dude that hangs out with u at WORK

one day, ur at work, and jisung isn't there:((

u feel a little dumb being upset about it, but u were starting to get used to the little guy

“somebody looks like a sad clown.”

“hyunjin~” u whine.

“oh no. that’s the boy problems whine. uhhh suddenly i’m on break!” he tries to stand and walk away, but u pull him back down next to u.

see, u and hyunjin were pretty close.

u two are the same age and watch the same dramas.

and ur both super dramatic

which is WHY when u got ur heart broken by lee donghyuck a few months after u started working there, he was ur shoulder to cry - and complain - on.

“stop :( there was this boy who came in every day and talked to me and he’s super cute but he’s not here today and i miss him :(“

hyunjin just …. stared at u like …. wtf are u talking about

“do you have his number?”

“yes.”

“have you texted him to ask why he’s not here today?”

“...no…”

“(；￣Д￣) Y/N U FUCKIN FOOL!!! U ABSOLUTE IMBECILE!!!”

“STOP YELLING AT ME HWANG HYUNJIN I’LL DESTROY EVERYTHING YOU LOVE!”

a customer standing in front of the register, trying to buy some headphones: uh.. should i go?

u make hyunjin deal with the customer while u sneak out ur phone to text jisung

[ y/n ]: where are u . no one is here 2 annoy me today (except hyunjin but he doesn’t count)

u wait 5 minutes … no reply

10 minutes … no reply

an hour … no reply

“WAAAAA ｡･ﾟﾟ*(>д<)*ﾟﾟ･｡ HYUNJIN ｡･ﾟﾟ*(>д<)*ﾟﾟ･｡”

hyunjin, handing a poor lady her receipt: jesus fucking christ

ur sulking as u leave the store that night

u still feel dumb, but now ur too Sad to feel dumb

u press the lock button on ur car keys so the lights would come on and the horn would sound, telling u where ur car was

“OH FUCK- jesus...stupid car…”

….that’s not what ur car horn sounds like.

u slowly approach, holding ur keys in between ur fingers

ur not afraid to stab a bitch with ur mail key and that’s on wolverine.

u breathe a sigh of Relief when u see it’s just jisung leaning against ur door

wait

jisung

“jisung?” u voice ur thoughts

his hand comes up to rub the back of his neck, “yeah..hi..sorry i didn’t text you back. i nearly backed out of doing this and i didn’t wanna look stupid.”

“you look stupid all the time.”

“jeez, thanks.”

u cross ur arms, stepping closer to the boy, “back out of what?”

“well i uh- do you remember how minho said i think you’re cute on the first day we talked?”

you nod.

“well...that hasn’t changed. i think you’re cute...really cute, actually.”

you blush again, just like the first time, “what does me being cute have to do with you standing in front of my car?”

“well, i don’t have a car, so i’m hoping...you can drive when we go on our first date?”

your heart nearly stops, but you start to smile.

“han jisung, are you asking me out?”

“are you saying yes?”

“yes.”

“then yeah. i am.”

your smile only gets wider as you close the gap between you two, wrapping your arms around his middle. he pats your head, a chuckle vibrating under your ear.

“also i need a ride home. minho dropped me off.”

“*sigh* jisung…”

[ranishoo]

7 for leslie and devlon do it you wont

oh fuck yeah

7. First words vs last words

First words:

Leslie felt sore. She felt hot. The ground was shifting around her. Her eyes were closed, yet light still poured in, tinting her vision red. Until it went dark again. But she was still awake, wasn't she? She tried to open her eyes, but they were far too heavy.

Fingers pressed against her neck and the weight she previously felt was gone in an instant, replaced by pure adrenaline. She shot upright with a yelp, her forehead meeting something solid that sent her back down to the ground, groaning and clutching her head. And someone else was groaning too.

Leslie opened her eyes, having to rub and blink them many times to fight the bright sunlight and a strange irritation, to find herself looking at a man sitting not too far from her. He was tall, lean but well-built, with dark skin and long dark hair, with what looked to be a side shave, or maybe a long mohawk? He too was rubbing a hand on his forehead.

"Oh god," Leslie began, "did I hit you? I-" She stopped, noticing for the first time where she was. What she was sitting on. What she had rubbed out of her eyes. Sand.

Sand?

All around her was pits of sand, dry patches of dirt and dead brush, and what might be the oldest looking ruins she'd ever seen. What the fuck? She'd just been in the Felsan foothills, surrounded by trees and rocks; what was she doing here? What was going on, and who was that man?

Leslie turned her attention back to the stranger, only to notice he had recovered and stood up, walking back over to her. He said something to her, but she couldn't make out what. She gave him a confused look, and he paused for a moment before repeating himself. Was he speaking Kett? Some of the words sounded familiar, but she couldn't fully comprehend their meaning.

The man scratched his head for a moment, and Leslie noticed two large fangs protruding from his lips. A vampire? No, he was in broad daylight, that would be stupid. Maybe a galik, then? She couldn't see his eyes, the slitted draconic pupils usually a dead giveaway, so she couldn't tell for sure.

"Ah..." the man started, his tenor voice hesitant and slow. "You... alright?"

So he knew a bit of Domian. It didn't seem like much, but at least it was something. Leslie still hoped he'd been speaking Kett before, and that she just hadn't understood through his accent; she at least knew a few phrases and random words in the language, so even if he barely knew Domian she might be able to ask him some questions.

The man cleared his throat.

"Oh! Um, yes? Sort of? Uh... sorry, where am I?" She attempted to stand, but her legs protested with possibly the worst cramps she'd ever felt, and she promptly landed back on the sand, writhing in pain.

Her eyes pinched shut, Leslie heard the man frantically calling in his language as he rushed toward her. Then in Domian, "Alright? Alright?"

It took her a moment to collect herself, but she remembered to stretch out her legs and gritted her teeth, working the cramp out. "I... yeah, yeah I am." Still on the ground, she held out a hand to shake his and gave him a pained smile. "I'm Leslie."

He stared at her for a moment, seemingly baffled. Then, slowly, he took her hand and cautiously helped her to her feet. Alright, not what she'd intended, but that was fine. She looked up at him, meeting his bright golden eyes partially obscured by the hair he had yet to brush out of the way. Slitted, just like a dragon.

"I am Delvon."

Last words:

Lucas clung to his arm as Delvon hoisted the saddlebag onto his horse, lifting the boy off his feet for just a moment. "Please don't go, Papa!" He looked at the child, his brown and gold eyes looking like that of a dog watching you eat a juicy steak. That boy had mastered the art of begging, and it took all of Delvon's strength not to scoop him up and bring him inside, foregoing the journey altogether.

He sighed. "Would you prefer I stay home and not hunt, and we go hungry for the winter?"

The boy groaned. "You could at least bring me along, I'm old enough now! Look!" He held up his tag, showing the snake fang to his father. It was galik tradition for a child to keep the fang from their first solo hunt and turn it into a necklace, a badge of pride and a sign that they were beginning the journey to adulthood. Over Lucas' life, Delvon would have the privilege to add more to the tag as his son developed his skills, and he could already tell he'd have to go searching for purple and red beads to mark the boy's prowess in vinum and impes magic. Clearly a trait he got from his mother, as Delvon still struggled on the rare occurrence when he did use his magic.

Sighing again, Delvon ruffled Lucas' curly brown hair with his free hand, a smile teasing his lips. "You have to stay home and protect the farm, remember? Mama and Kala can't do it all by themselves."

Lucas let go of his father's arm and crossed his own, pouting. "Mama could protect the farm all by herself! She's told me all about her adventures; she could keep the farm safe with both her hands tied behind her back."

The smile was still on Delvon's face, but it turned a bit more stern now. "Alright, then you're staying home to help with the harvest. The frost is coming soon, remember?"

Another groan from the boy, resigned this time. "Fine," he grumbled, "but next year I get to go hunting with you and Uncle."

Delvon rolled his eyes. "I make no promises, but I'll think about it. Now, where's your mother?"

Lucas pointed toward the house, where he'd left the door wide open when he chased after his father. Delvon started toward it, sighing. When would that boy learn that the purpose of their hearth wasn't to heat the outdoors? He stepped into the house, waiting for the boy to scramble past him before he shut the door, welcoming the warmth of his home after just a few short minutes out in the chilly morning air.

Leslie was in the kitchen, looking like she had barely just woken up as she nursed a mug of tea and attempted to keep her eyes from falling shut. She looked up from the drink to see Delvon in the doorway and she smiled, laugh lines crinkling to make her face look all the more beautiful. Her red hair was pulled back into a barely contained ponytail, curls flying everywhere to give her a frazzled look. Delvon walked over and smoothed her unruly locks, kissing the top of her head as he did.

'Somebody's a sap this morning,' he sensed her thinking, and he looked at her face to see her smirking at him.

"Perhaps I am," he shrugged, planting a quick kiss on her lips. 'Keep an eye on Lucas when I leave,' he thought, 'I think he might try to follow me this time.'

'He's been failing at that for the past two years,' Leslie replied, hiding a chuckle lest Lucas hear and ask what they're "mind-talking" about. That boy needed to come up with a better term for it; not that she had one, but it took all her willpower not to roll her eyes whenever he said the word. They'd explained tethering to both Lucas and Kala, and while Kala seemed to understand just fine, Leslie wondered if Lucas quite got the concept.

'He'll get it eventually,' Delvon said, interrupting her as he took a sip of her tea, 'he's just young.'

'For now,' she replied, taking the mug back, 'but how are you gonna feel when he gets older than you?'

She said it in jest, but the words gave Delvon pause. He had thought about this before; while he was full galik, they were only half, and they aged much faster than he did. In only sixty years they'd almost reached teenagehood, something that had taken Delvon well over two hundred years. Not to mention Leslie, who wasn't a galik at all. She was in her eighties, although she didn't look it. They wondered if it was the dwarf blood or her strong connection with magic that kept her looking half her age, but neither could figure it out.

Delvon knew what he had been signing up for when he married her; he knew he would outlive her by at least a thousand years, and he had accepted that. But it didn't make it easier to see the signs of age show on her, however slow they may appear. And to see his children grow up so quickly, while he'd seemingly not aged throughout their entire lifetime. He didn't know how he'd handle the years to come, when he was by their deathbeds, still a young man, and it terrified him. What would he do after they were gone?

His thoughts were interrupted by a hand on his cheek. "Hey," Leslie softly said, "you know I love you, right?"

Delvon closed his eyes and placed his own hand on top of hers, pressing his cheek into her palm. He allowed the sensation of his love and care to flow through their link, letting it wash over his wife. She shared hers with him in return, and the two stood there for a quiet moment, eyes closed as they basked in each other's affection.

As soon as the moment had started, it was over, and Delvon opened his eyes, slightly dazed. Leslie's eyes were similarly glazed over, and the two made eye contact for a moment before laughing. The overwhelming sensation they'd just shared left them both a bit stunned, and neither had really gotten used to that feeling.

A knock on the door interrupted them, setting their dog off. Sawyer rushed to the door, barking his head off, his tail wagging frantically. He knew who was on the other side.

"Settle down, boy!" Delvon called fruitlessly, more for his own benefit than anything else. Nothing could stop that damn dog from barking.

Leslie placed a hand on the back of his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. "You off, then?"

"It would seem so."

"You better bring us back lots of game, you hear? Oh, and preferably some animal with good bones; we need new tools."

The man snorted. "Alright, necromancer, I'll find you your precious bones."

She smacked him on the shoulder, rolling her eyes. "You know what I mean, asshole. And no getting gored by a buck or a boar or anything. I've already had to patch you up enough for one lifetime; I don't wanna do it again."

Once again, Delvon kissed her on the head, taking his sword off the shelf they'd built high above the children's heads. "I promise I won't get stabbed if you promise you won't let the kids poke your eyes out with the rake."

"Yeah, yeah, I promise."

"I love you!"

"Love you too, Del."

Delvon opened the front door, smiling as he saw his brother on the other side. Sawyer rushed out to sniff Rochil's feet, his entire body squirming from excitement, and the three of them walked toward the horses. When Delvon mounted, he turned back to look at his home, seeing his wife standing in the doorway, waving to him. He saw Lucas peek his head out from behind his mother, and from a window upstairs he could see the tired face of Kala watching out the window as she waved goodbye. Delvon raised a hand to them and Rochil shortly followed. Then the two tapped their horses with their heels, setting on down the road, Sawyer trotting alongside them.

[whump-mania]

I Will Survive

Something a little different from what I usually write! This is a songfic inspired by “I Will Survive” by Gloria Gaynor. I made some new characters for this one, not sure if I’ll ever use them anywhere else. Enjoy! (This is a long one)

TW: domestic abuse, implied noncon attempt, dubcon, nonconsensual kissing/touching, cursing, gaslighting, use of slurs (sl*t)

~

The crowd was silent. All eyes on him. A bright, burning spotlight shining down on him. Everyone was waiting in quiet anticipation for the first note. Tyler steadied his breathing and focused on the sheet music in front of him. His fingers rested lightly on the keys of first chord of the song. A breath. A glance into the crowd. Alex was there, smiling at him. A surge of confidence flowed through Tyler as he turned back to the piano. 

He struck the first chord, which sent him into a flurry of notes arpeggiating up to the end of the intro. A nod to his bandmates sent him into the first verse of the song.

“At first I was afraid, I was petrified...Kept thinking I could never live without you by my side...”

~

“N-No, I’m sorry, I-I didn’t mean it, I love y-”

“Shut the FUCK up, Tyler!” Eric was filled with rage. He had just pushed his boyfriend down onto the ground of the kitchen, Tyler’s now broken phone on the hard tile next to him.

It was all started by a text. A text that Tyler sent to his new friend, Alex. A bartender at the bar they performed at with their jazz band. He had been so kind to Tyler, coming up to him after the performance and telling him he had never heard someone play the piano as well as him. Eric was putting his trumpet away when he noticed the two talking, and he kept a wary eye on the bartender since then.

Tyler was just saying hello. He was just asking him if he wanted to meet up for coffee. As friends. That's when Eric found the texts messages and lost it, accusing Tyler of cheating on him.

“You’re fucking him, aren’t you?” Eric accused. “You think I’m not good enough for you, huh?!” 

Tyler shook his head rapidly. “No! No, please, I was just being friendly, I-”

“I don’t think I can be with you if you’re gonna be a slut,” Eric spat. “Have fun with your new boytoy.” Eric turned and left Tyler on the floor, taking his own things and heading for the door. 

“Wait! E-Eric, please!” Tyler scrambled off the floor and grabbed Eric’s arm. “I’ll do anything, please, d-don’t leave me...I love you...” 

Eric glared at him, not even needing to think about his next move. Everything was going according to plan. “Would you block him? Would you never speak to him again?” His voice dropped to a lower, vulnerable tone. 

Tyler nodded immediately. “Yes, yes, I promise, I won't even think about him, just please don’t leave...I-I’m sorry...” Tyler fell to his knees and sobbed. 

Eric grabbed Tyler’s broken phone from the floor, handing it to the sobbing form on the tile. Tyler took it instantly and deleted Alex’s contact with shaking hands. Eric smiled and embraced him.

“Good boy...I love you so much, Ty.” He stroked his boyfriend’s hair, calming his sobs. “Shh, I’m here.” Tyler melted, falling in love all over again.

~

Tyler’s eyes shut closed as he sang the next lyric.

“But then I spent so many nights thinking how you did me wrong, and I grew strong...and I learned how to get along...”

~

“He’s using you, you know.” Alex frowned at the man in front of him. 

Tyler and Alex were at the bar. Alex was working and Tyler had just finished his set. This was the only time they could see each other without Eric knowing: Eric was sick at home with the flu, and couldn’t perform in the gig. Tyler sipped his drink nervously.

“Maybe he is. Maybe he doesn’t even love me.” He took a shaky breath. “But I think I still love him, you know? And he’s my lead trumpet, and the band can’t survive without him...I-I can’t just...leave.”

Alex became more upset, but held it in so he wouldn’t upset Tyler. “I know it’s hard to leave a relationship like that.” He reached over and held his hand. “But I’m here to help you. I can stay with you the whole time, so he can’t hurt you.”

Tyler looked into Alex’s eyes. He couldn’t help but be reassured by the concerned, caring look in those brown eyes. A look he barely saw from Eric anymore, a look he had to work for. Tyler furrowed his eyebrows and nodded.

“Okay.”

~

“...And so you're back!”

Tyler tapped his foot, feeling a new rush of confidence as the rest of his band struck up and the lights shone on all of them.

“From outer space...I just walked in to find you here with that sad look upon your face. I should have changed that stupid lock, I should have made you leave your key, if I'd known for just one second you'd be back to bother me...”

He pounded the keys of the piano, not even needing to look at the sheet music. He knew exactly what he was supposed to say.

“Go on now, go! Walk out the door! Just turn around now, 'cause you're not welcome anymore...Weren't you the one who tried to hurt me with goodbye? You think I'd crumble? You think I'd lay down and die?”

~

“Welcome home, Ty.”

Tyler stood, dumbfounded, in the entrance to his house. Standing there, in his own home, was Eric. Someone he thought he had finally gotten rid of. Tyler closed the door behind him. 

“W...What are you doing here? How did you-”

Eric smirked and held up the house key, the one he forgot to take from him before he told him to leave.

“I couldn’t just leave you here all alone with him. I had to come take you back...after all, he did take you from me.” Eric stepped forward.

Tyler’s eyes widened and he backed himself against the door. “W-We broke up! We had a talk, you...you agreed and everything!” Tyler’s eyes threatened to shed tears. “I thought everything was okay!”

Eric laughed. “Wow, Ty, I knew he made you a slut but I didn’t know he made you a dumbass, too!” He strode forward and pressed Tyler against the door. Tyler tried to struggle away.

“No! N-No, you can’t call me that anymore, I don’t belong to anyone!” He tried to worm his way out of Eric’s grasp, but he was locked in place.

“God, he really brainwashed you, didn't he?” Eric frowned and stroked Tyler’s hair. “You can't really believe that bullshit.” He grinned and leaned in to kiss him.

“No! Stop it, g-get away from me!” Tyler wasn’t strong enough to escape the kiss. It was aggressive, and passionate, and it brought him back. Back to the fear, to the shame, to never being good enough. Eric’s hand slithering down to his waistband sent Tyler into panic mode, screaming and pushing Eric away with all his might.

Eric snapped out of his trance of lust and glowered at Tyler. His mood changed entirely as he snarled and rushed toward Tyler, ready to fight. He lunged at him and Tyler was able to dodge him, using the opportunity to push Eric to the ground. 

Tyler took the opportunity to run to the kitchen, grabbing a rolling pin and holding it at Eric, panting.

“Get. Out.” His hands were shaking as he looked at Eric with all the rage that had been built up over his months of recovery. Eric stared in bewilderment at Tyler before stumbling up and running out the door. 

Tyler dropped to his knees. He didn’t know it would be so easy. It was almost too easy...but that didn’t matter. He was gone.

~

“Oh no, not I, I will survive! Oh, as long as I know how to love, I know I'll stay alive...I've got all my life to live, and I've got all my love to give, and I'll survive... I will survive...hey, hey!”

Tyler belted and stood up from the piano seat, feeling stronger than he ever had before. Alex was in the crowd, beaming at how much he had grown. He cheered as Tyler continued.

“It took all the strength I had not to fall apart...kept trying hard to mend the pieces of my broken heart. And I spent oh-so many nights just feeling sorry for myself, I used to cry...but now I hold my head up high!”

~

“Tyler, stop! Don’t say things like that!”

“But it’s true! I-I’m disgusting, I need to go back to him, I’m being unfair...”

Tyler was sitting on his own couch, Alex by his side. He had just broken up with Eric yesterday and it was the hardest thing he had ever done. It was only possible with Alex by his side, and to his surprise, Eric left with barely any argument. 

Now, however, he regretted it all. Everything Eric said to him in the past was coming back to him, grabbing him and dragging him back to Eric’s arms. And Alex was doing his best to keep him at bay.

“Tyler, you don't owe him anything. You did the right thing, he was horrible to you, please understand that.” He looked at Tyler in the eyes, pleading. “You are not disgusting. You’re brave, and you’re beautiful, and he never deserved you.”

Tyler shook his head. “No, y-you’re lying, I’m a slut, I’m using you, I-I’m a dirty cheater, I need to go back...”

“Tyler. Look at me.” Tyler shuddered and looked at him with bloodshot eyes. Alex sighed. “I don’t want to force you into anything. But I will say this. I’ve seen the way he treats you, and it isn’t okay. You are the bravest person I know for leaving him, and I know you can recover. I...I love you, Tyler. I have for a while and I hate seeing you upset. So...I wanna see you happy.”  Alex teared up as well, quickly wiping his eyes.

Tyler stared in shock, not knowing what to say. So he didn’t say anything. He leaned forward and kissed Alex, most likely soaking his face with his tears. Alex embraced him and kissed him back. This was a start, but they still had a long way to go.

~

“And you see me, somebody new, I'm not that chained-up little person still in love with you...”

~

“Uh...Eric, I dunno how safe I feel doing this...” Tyler tugged at the restraints that kept him tied to Eric’s headboard. Eric gave him a dangerous look.

“Tyler, you promised me. You’re really gonna do this to me on my birthday?” Eric raised an eyebrow, securing the knots.

“N-No, I-”

“You’re really gonna be that selfish? After all the things I’ve done for you? Remember all the stuff I gave you for your birthday? Does that mean nothing to you?” Eric feigned a hurt expression.

“Eric, no, I...” Tyler swallowed. “I’m okay. We can do this, I’m sorry for upsetting you.” Tyler smiled at him, but it was forced. He really, really didn’t want to do this, but he was afraid that it would be even worse if he kept complaining. He felt trapped, he felt chained up and restrained: in a literal and figurative sense. 

Eric smiled down at him, giving Tyler that approving, loving gaze he so yearned for. “Thank you, Ty. I love you.”

“I love you too.” The response was automatic. It was the only thing keeping him going.

~

“And so you felt like dropping in and just expect me to be free...”

Tyler smiled and looked to Alex in the crowd.

“Well, now I'm saving all my lovin' for someone who's loving me!”

Alex laughed, blushing and clapping along with the song as Tyler went through the chorus once again. 

“Go on now, go! Walk out the door! Just turn around now, 'cause you're not welcome anymore...Weren't you the one who tried to hurt me with goodbye? You think I'd crumble? You think I'd lay down and die? Oh no, not I, I will survive! Oh, as long as I know how to love, I know I'll stay alive...I've got all my life to live, and I've got all my love to give, and I'll survive... I will survive...I will survive!”

The crowd cheered loudly. Alex stood up, tears in his eyes. He was filled with pride watching Tyler, his boyfriend (that still felt good to say), performing on stage like this. 

Tyler’s fingers danced across the piano as he ended the song, the crowd erupting in applause when the song was over. Tyler rushed offstage and into the crowd to embrace Alex. 

He was brave. He was beautiful. And Eric never, never deserved him. 

He will survive.

[transxfiles]

I really need somebody to infodump on me, I'm dealing with a major terf, can you please infodump?

sure anon!

ok so today i'm gonna be talking abt the scooby-doo franchise, specifically the thirteen ghosts of scooby-doo which is a franchise that i grew up on, not because it was necessarily good or of my time, but rather because i have been obsessed with scooby-doo since i was born and still love it to this day and have consumed every piece of scooby media made up to this point (january 24, 2021) except for be cool, scooby-doo!, scoobynatural (the scooby-doo/supernatural crossover), scooby-doo and the loch ness monster, and scooby-doo and guess who? either because i have been unable to find/afford them or bc a streaming service is keeping them from me. 

so back to the main topic: the thirteen ghosts of scooby-doo. you may be wondering, what is this odd yet intriguing sounding piece of media? well, i’ll tell you.

[Image ID: A screencap from the 1985 cartoon The Thirteen Ghosts of Scooby-Doo, showing all six of the main characters, from upper left to right: Shaggy, wearing a red t-shirt, Flim-Flam, wearing a yellow tracksuit like getup and holding a crystal ball, Daphne, wearing her signature purple except her outfit consists of a long-sleeved purple shirt, a dark purple vest, and purple pants, Scooby-Doo, and Scrappy-Doo. All of the characters are leaning in towards Flim-Flam in the center of the photo, who is holding a crystal ball with the elderly Vincent Van Ghoul’s face on it, turned green by the light of the crystal ball. They appear to be standing in a cave underground somewhere, and they are all wearing yellow hard helmets with lights on them. End ID]

this is the shortest running scooby-doo series to date. it started running on september 7, 1985, and was taken off the air in march of the same year, after it received not only bad reviews from kids (most likely upset by bad animation, writing, and general storytelling) but also from parents, who feared the demonic presences portrayed in the show would cause their children to (i shit you not) become satanists, because that’s how parents thought in the 80s i guess. 

our story starts simply: with shaggy piloting a plane through the himalayas after scooby misreads a map. they were trying to go on vacation to the tropics, you see. shaggy, scooby, scrappy, and of course daphne. where are fred and velma, you ask? unimportant. there’s no time to think about that anyway - the plane crashes, stranding the group in a strange town in the snow-covered mountains. 

there’s not enough time to explain all the weird shit that happens in the series, so i’ll skip to the highlights reel of the first episode only: 

we meet flim-flam and oh boy... the racism. they stereotypes. dear god.

flim-flam promptly attempts to scam daphne and shaggy into buying a drink called (i shit you not) lots-a-luck joy juice, a miracle worker (according to flim flam)

the gang + flim flam visit a cave in the mountains that looks like a villain’s secret lair and is in fact the home to vincent van ghoul (voiced by the lovely vincent price) who is depicted as a not so subtle dr strange ripoff

some ghosts trick scooby-doo and shaggy into entering a gameshow that then allows them to win this prize called the chest of demons which is, you guessed it, a chest full of demons. scooby opens it. he releases thirteen of the most terrifying ghosts and demons onto the face of the earth. woohoo. 

they go to a bar(?) in town and there is a vampire performing there and everyone in the town turns into werewolves and we later learn that it’s bc the town’s cursed

daphne gets turned into a werewolf bc someone roofied her drink

scrappy promptly tells daphne to ‘cut it out’ and stop being a werewolf bc she’s being silly

daphne drinks lots-a-luck joy juice and she is no longer a werewolf. i'm tell u guys she is a werewolf for. less than ten seconds.

they escape and vincent van ghoul scolds them for causing problems on purpose and also tells them they now have to hunt down all of the thirteen ghosts they let loose onto the face of the earth and he gives them ghostbusters equipment. also a crystal ball so that they can contact him while they’re on their ghost hunt.

“but how will we fix our plane that broke down at the beginning of the show?” it’s never explained it’s just magically fixed. 

oh and guess what fuels it. 

lots-a-luck joy juice.

(oh and the gang basically adopts flim flam bc he doesn’t??? seem to have parents?? and he goes with them on their ghost hunt)

AND THAT’S JUST THE FIRST EPISODE

the best part of it all? they spend the series tracking down all the demons... but the series is cancelled before they trap the thirteenth ghost. fucked up, right?? do you know how many unresolved nightmares that shit left me with when i was six years old?? the good news, of course, is that someone out there in the warner-brothers scooby-doo writers room must love me, because in 2019 they made this: 

[Image ID: The movie poster for the movie “Scooby-Doo! And The Curse Of The Thirteenth Ghost” which shows Shaggy and Scooby in the foreground, running from a horned, winged demon that’s flying after them. Scooby is a brown Great Dane wearing a blue sweater, and Shaggy’s carrying him. Shaggy’s wearing his green t-shirt, brown pants, and a warm-looking red and green hat with a pom pom on it. They both look terrified. Behind them and the demon stand Vincent Van Ghoul, Velma Dinkley, Fred Jones, and Daphne Blake. Fred is holding the Chest of Demons, which is glowing green. Three ghostly shapes are rising out of it. Daphne appears to be looking up at the ceiling, shining a flashlight on it. End ID]

which is a film in which the whole gang comes together to hunt down that one last ghost. it’s incredibly good and also we learn that fred is a cheerleader. that’s canon babes.

hope this helps!

[rpmemesbyarat]

RP meme from Scream Queens Ep 5 "Pumpkin Patch" (Note: Offensive content, use at own discretion)

The theme was "Let Them Eat Cake," so my dad bought me this foreclosed McMansion down the street, and, like, 500 of my closest friends came dressed in 18th century attire, and, oh, the pool was filled with this, like, caviar slurry. And then at midnight, we just burnt the house down. When the firefighters came, they were actually strippers, and they put out the fire with champagne.

So walk me through this, honey.

Well, as you can see, every pumpkin in the patch is artisanal.

Then we move past the ice sculptures of demonic peeing cherubs, and yes, they will all be peeing vodka and Red Bull.

I'm sorry. Corn maze?

It's just that doing an exact replica maze from The Shining would have taken us way over budget on man power alone.

I told you money was no object.

Well, apparently, one of them died or something.

Do you have any idea what's at stake here?

Okay, well, it's not my fault that some guy died in the '70s.

I am tired of your sad-sack, I'm-a-total-downer-all-the-time schtick.

I'm over it!

Oh, my God, why are you so depressed?

Why do I have to be the homely one?

Just a second, nutbag.

God, do I have to spell it out for you?

You're a weird, psycho lunatic who's gonna end up in an asylum somewhere, staring at a wall, trying to nurse a watering can.

That's it! I can't take this anymore!

That is such a Mary Todd Lincoln thing to say.

You scream "I'm done with you" kind of a lot, and yet you're still standing here.

I think you know you have a good thing going.

You get to bask in my starlight as I do all the work and you get to grumble behind my back about how disrespected you are.

There's the door.

There's the door, bitch!

You did not deserve to be spoken to like that. Ever.

That is bollocks!

Clearly this fake kidnapping is a play to get the sympathy vote. So Gone Girl.

This is the biggest candle night of the year!

I hate you right now!

Halloween is the greatest night of the year. Greatest night. Because on this night, even kind of shy, kind of homely girls dress up like total sluts. I mean, every costume is just a slutty version of something. Slutty teacher, slutty nurse, slutty nun. I saw a girl last year dressed as slutty al-Qaeda!

See, Halloween it's a night for dudes with killer bods to walk around with our shirts off. And it's totally appropriate, as long as we call ourselves gladiators, Chippendales.

I have no idea how you got into this college.

Look, we'll just hang out and play charades!

This cannot be happening!

Hey, what about Black Hairy Tongue Disease? I mean, does nobody here care about Black Hairy Tongue?

What about my pumpkin patch?

I blame you for this.

[NAME], nice boobs.

Join me in saying you are not afraid!

Just baking some cookies for the neighborhood trick-or-treaters.

Uh, they're toenail cookies.

Pink fur coats worn in all weather, my idea. Flapper dresses made out of feathers, also my idea. Oversized sunglasses worn everywhere, my idea, my idea, my idea!

So why are you baking toenail cookies and giving them to children?

Okay, whose side are you on?

I'm gonna let you in on a little secret. I'm what you call

a "switch-hitter."

Wait, are you bisexual? Because that's what "switch-hitter" means.

Do you mean "double agent"?

What are you writing?

Do you know how big Halloween is in the candle community?

Is this an ant farm?

There's a mom ant, Deborah, who mostly just lies around and she has about 100 husband ants, who come around and give it to her good, which she really enjoys. And then there's about a million sterile daughter ants who feed her and are her slaves. So, an ideal family.

She'd win. And then I'd beg to be her second-in-command, while quietly pull the strings behind the scenes like Dick Cheney.

This plan involves a lot of circuitous logic.

Oh, my God! Those are, like, $100 each!

They're the highest quality candles that can be purchased retail.

What a brilliant and revolutionary idea.

Are you cheating?

This is a clear violation of the honor code.

You must be new here.

Who are you calling?

I'm gonna get you fired.

At least you wore something nice today.

Remember to smile for your mug shot.

I'm burping uncontrollably like Robert Durst.

They'll know I'm guilty!

I'm next in line and in charge here.

You can sum up my viewpoint on this with one word; indifference.

We are her only hope.

Sometimes, in order for a person to achieve their full potential, they have to do things on their own.

I am in charge here!

I love that you're a man.

This is the most sensual song ever written.

We need to do this right now!

I just saw her boobs.

Oh, a salad date is, it's like, it's more casual than dinner, but more formal than coffee.

Whose pants are these?

You know, you're a human being with feelings and needs, right?

Enough about me and my confusion and sad dead feeling inside.

It just really hurt my feelings.

Anyway, I'm pretty sure my so-called friends are the ones that turned me in so I'm just feeling, like, super alone right now.

Man, I am your biggest Instagram fan!

I just think you are a style genius.

I will never be able to repay you for the kindness you've shown me in here.

Besties for life, I say.

Your bail's been posted.

I knew you'd bail me out.

Can I just say what a relief it is to be able to share it with somebody and not feel judged?

You know, I mean, all my girlfriends are like, "That's immoral." "You should be ashamed of yourself!"

Ashamed? What the hell you got to be ashamed for?

You should be proud.

I could've lost my job.

I mean, it lasted, like, 45 seconds, and the whole time, it just felt like I was getting stabbed in the abdomen.

I tied him up and I kept my uniform on and proceeded

to read him his rights. My favorite being "You got the right to remain sexy."

Give me some!

You know he's sexy!

That was one of the best nights of my life.

Well, I've already contacted the police department, despite the fact that a person can't be considered "missing" until at least 72 hours has passed.

That's morbid.

I've already hired an investigator.

What, are you two a couple now?

What the hell are you doing?

You sold me down the river, bitch.

Wait, Gary Coleman's parents stole his kidneys?

I would never say that, because I'm pretty sure that never even happened.

Why does ratting me out sound like exactly something you would do?

You know, I've never thought of myself as a killer, but I am seriously considering ramming this pick into the back of your eye socket.

Maybe you'll get your head sawed off.

You have cameras in my room?

I have eyes everywhere, bitch.

The name of my future perfume is Revenge.

How is that something you just happen to know?

That is stupidest thing I've ever heard.

What's the password?

I just can't eat any more of these.

This ain't The Marriage Ref! This ain't Judge Joe Brown! We ain't on the Maury Show! We ain't standin' in line trying to get tickets to Dr. Phil! I am not Steve Harvey, people, and this ain't the Family Feud!

I'm tryin' to catch a killer.

Help me get the spy gear in the car!

How can you promise?

We're in a maze, you don't know where you're going!

I always knew it would come to this.

Why are we doing this right now?

I forgot the flashlights!

What am I supposed to do with this?

This is so creepy.

It smell like booty in here.

I'm getting a nervous feeling in my stomach.

I might start farting. If I cut some, you promise not to tell anyone?

Oh, my boob!

Stay where you are! I'll come and get you!

Ooh, this is nice.

It's really beautiful.

It looks like you just crossed some stuff out and wrote that in in marker.

Okay, can we talk about that for a second? Because it just happened a few hours ago, and I'm still really traumatized.

I need some cheering up right now.

Excuse me, darling, I'm exhausted.

Wait, we need to hear what happened to you.

Just wondering where you find a house with a pit. The market for them would be pretty limited.

Did you escape, or did you kill him?

I've always had a thing for bad boys.

That got way out of hand.