#the writers have their shit on lock in ways i am very jealous of

[lesbianrobin]

Hi for a writer new to writing 911 fics what are some key character points that you think are really important for capturing the vibes of Buck and Eddie?

omg HIII 🫶🏻🫶🏻

so first off i also consider myself New to writing 911 fics fmvjdjc but i assume since ur asking Me of all people you like one/some of my fics enough to think i am an authority which rules. thank u that's so sweet. ANYWAY on to my actual advice.

buck: you know that john mulaney bit where he's saying he's a terrible driver and he's like "i hear you honking and i also don't want me to be doing what i'm doing. i don't like that i'm in that lane either. and i sure would like to get out of it." that is buck in basically every aspect of his life besides being a firefighter. his problem is that he won't pull over long enough to figure out what the hell he's doing. buck acts before he thinks and only Later does he even consider like hey Why did i do that. What was i feeling. What was i trying to accomplish. which often results in him behaving selfishly and hurting others (see: lawsuit, Entire Relationship With Taylor Kelly, maiming eddie during a basketball game, coming to the erroneous conclusion that he was jealous over tommy rather than eddie) as well as behaving recklessly and risking his own life under the cover of heroism and necessity.

as far as more like. basic character things go. buck can be kinda dumb And smart at the same time. people often swing really hard in one direction or the other and i think it does buck a disservice. like, yeah, he loves his fun facts and research spirals and books, he clearly has a love for learning, but he's also not the Best at critical analysis of his sources and maybe has a tendency to take things at face value. like i do fear that buck could be persuaded to join an essential oils mlm.

ALSO buck is a weirdo like yes he Can be charming but he also has chronic foot-in-mouth disease and says shit like "oh we didn't kill him we just WANTED to!" TO THE COPS. WHEN BEING QUESTIONED ABOUT A MURDER. i think buck is just constantly rolling either nat ones or nat twentys when it comes to charisma.

i also think it's important to keep in mind that while buck can be deeply insecure, that insecurity doesn't Usually manifest in him like. noticeably withdrawing into himself or trudging sadly around like a kicked puppy. his response to that insecurity is most often to be loud, to lash out, or to overcompensate (see: his entire personality in s1, eddie's introduction, befriending red and taking on his end of life care, swearing to abby that he'll rescue her fiancé and risking his own life to do it, etc).

ok i think i've yapped enough ab buck SO!

eddie: i actually feel like way less confident prescribing advice for writing eddie fmvkdjc so this'll probably be shorter than the buck section. as far as the Basics go i think people can often characterize eddie as very like serious and grim but he rly is not! he's a very silly guy! mostly with chris and buck, but also a bit with carla and linda and the rest of the 118. i think eddie is a guy who can behave very differently depending on how comfortable he is around somebody, and there are many parts of himself that he keeps locked down around others.

eddie thinks about his feelings and motivations before acting in a way that buck typically doesn't, but that doesn't mean he's correctly assessing those feelings and motivations. eddie is an incredibly unreliable narrator when it comes to his own life! he'll feel the desire to do something (for example, dating ana or going from active firefighting to a desk job) and Then construct his conscious reasoning for it (i'm ready to move on from shannon and i like her, chris will feel better and it's better for him if i have a safe job) while avoiding his Deeper feelings and motivations (the compulsion to give chris A Mother so that he feels like less of a failure as a father, his own ptsd and other mental health struggles in the wake of the shooting).

this doesn't mean that eddie is entirely emotionally unintelligent! he just kinda hates himself and he's deeply repressed and he often feels that he can't do things For Him, they all have to be For Chris.

ok that's like most of what i've got for now i'm rly not an authority on eddie but i tried my best 😭

as a duo: i think the #1 thing to remember when writing buck and eddie is that they're best friends and they understand each other better than anybody else in their lives. like that doesn't mean that they're always on the same page but they Do canonically recognize each other's feelings and motivations most of the time and after the lawsuit/street fighting era, they always respond to each other with patience and care when one of them is having a rough time.

like i think you actually have to try Very hard to justify it if you're gonna have buck and eddie miscommunicating and seriously arguing with each other in a fic. i remember when everyone was like omgggg buck is gonna LOSE IT ON EDDIE when he finds out about kim!! and then when buck Did find out about kim he was literally just worried about eddie and talked to him about it and asked the questions that eddie Needed to be asked so that he could work through his feelings and address the situation. buck and eddie just have a knack for knowing what the other person needs, and they're at a point where they will go to each other for help and be openly vulnerable!

and they have fun together! they're silly! see: "locked room mystery" "locked Yard mystery", the whole bachelor party, eddie being like buck Pwease can we look for the treasure together 🥺, etc etc. they just enjoy being together and i think that is so crucial to writing them.

final thoughts: in general my #1 piece of advice for writing fic is to rewatch the show/clips from the show when you're trying to capture a character's voice. i do not do this nearly as often as i should bc i am lazy but it rly is deeply helpful for making sure that they sound like themselves!

i would also advise that even if your fic is buddie-centric, it helps to include the other characters in even small ways. our relationships with others are central to who we are! references to other characters like chris, maddie, chim, etc. can go a long way toward making buck and eddie feel like themselves.

thank you again for asking me!! it's really really flattering. i hope this was of some help to you!!

[knowlesian]

aaaaand in a moment i am a weirdo and love, time to issue a correction to my own shit and say ‘whoops, i didn’t do a deep dive before i opened my mouth! got it wrong!’ (we gotta normalize saying i was wrong as a normal mode of social interaction, not a power transfer or moment of shame.)

i wrote about olu as a nickname being non-nontraditional and the setup to a joke (and i still think somebody laughing their ass off because everybody’s been calling olu god needs to happen in canon) and also about how these writers are smarter than me.

turns out i was wrong on the first! right on the second.

because this whole time, i made the mistake of relying on some surface info, ignoring my internal concerns over what i’d been seeing on language sites that contradicted that surface check because i couldn’t source them yet either, and then never just... going into wiki.

that last one would have saved me this moment to correct myself! because they’ve got a list of people who go by olu, on their wiki page for the same.

i’m just going to copy part of the page here, because it flips the use of olu on the show into not only a thematic note about truly unconditional love, but a historical nod to some deeply resonant (and relevant!) shit.

Since the name is applied to people, however, god in the sense of deity or lord is what is usually accepted, with the word even being used as a royal or noble title in certain parts of Nigeria, Benin and Togo.

so not only is olu an accepted/used and non-offensive diminutive for oluwande in the real world, this makes the party in e5 and frenchie giving him a fancy title other people can understand (even though i don’t know that canon wants us to think frenchie knows what ‘olu’ signifies in linguistic terms) like... a million fucking times better.

like i said! i feel pretty comfortable assuming these writers did their research and are smarter than me, and so far i’ve been right on that at least.

[wildflowertips]

Hi! I was curious if you had anymore Kuroko fic recommendations? Thank you! 🥺💗

hey! 🥺 i do have more kuroko fanfic recs. i didnt know what type of kuroko ship you wanted, so here are a few from some kuroko ships <3:

Kagakuro Recommendations

the flower that blooms in adversity by aotetsu

When Kagami falls for Kuroko Tetsuya, a famous prostitute from the red light district, he manages to find a whole lot of trouble and a person worth it all.

this fic deserves more love and attention. kagami love for kuroko absolutely made me sob

Brothers in Woo by buttwade

in which Himuro jokingly offers to help Kagami win Kuroko over and the joke's on him

kagami is drunk & himuro cracks jokes. this fic is funny. jealous!kuroko

Beastly call by TCon

"You mean," Kuroko started. "You'd be my Heat Partner?" He didn't expect Kagami to explode into a myriad of different shades of red more impressive than his own hair. "Y — yeah tha's what I'm sayin'!" for some reasons he lapsed into english with an odd accent. KagaKuro Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics & Sex Pistols AU - Fusion

Lots of smut in the beginning. there’s crime, suspense, and i read this fic like 5 times.

Stamina Training by tnsxbunny

As the weakest member in the team, Kuroko stays back after basketball practice to train on his stamina. Kagami watches from afar and decides to show Kuroko what real stamina training is.

SMUT. SUCH GOOD SMUT. thank u

The advantage of being Kuroko by heartfilledteddybear

mayuzumi hits on Kuroko & Kagami gets jealous 🥵

Akakuro Recommendations

Forget me not flowers in our hair by miniaturepsycho

When Kagami is captured by a beast Kuroko doesn't think twice and bargains to take the red head's position instead but it seems that there is more to this castle than meets the eye, and what has it have to do with forget me not's?? Basically a beauty and the beast AU that I decided to do after seeing the live action (which I totally did not cry at, not at all!!) COMPLETE

Contains Aokaga. Akashi as beast & kuroko as belle. So good 🥺

All I ask by TsuruKuni

"It's none of your business." "Tell me, Aomine. How can it be none of my business when you're throwing away the only person I've ever wanted?"

THIS FIC MADE ME SOB AT 3 AM. I highly recommend listening to ‘All I ask’ by Adele. I promise you will cry. Aokuro & Akakuro.

Bridezilla by DancingMarshmallows

Weddings are stressful... try helping people plan them. With two months to get everything together, a bridezilla and her bitch of a maid of honor, and finding love at the worst time, Kuroko would be lucky if he makes it out alive.

CEO!Akashi & WEDDING PLANNER!kuroko. you will not regret reading this one.

That Ridiculously Long Dance by Harmonia_Silverberg

Aomine, Kise, and Kagami never learn, do they? But apparently their "joke" works in Akashi and Kuroko's favor this time.

literally one of my all time favorite akakuro fanfic

What Would Chihiro Do by anewtinystory

Akashi is dating Kuroko, whose two brothers are very protective of him.[Based on a Tumblr anon's prompt: Nijimura and Mayuzumi are Kuroko's brothers; while Nijimura approves of Akashi, Mayuzumi feels the opposite]

slight smut. protective bros. i love it sm.

Aokuro Recommendations

Traded Mistakes by Acetate, Chrystie, exuberant_imperfection, kate882, luckypen

For the prompt: Aomine having an accident and losing his memory so all he remembers is being best friends with Tetsu and he doesn’t understand how that could stop.

Angst, oh the angst 😫😭.

Third time’s a charm (or maybe fourth) by LajtHane

Aomine really didn't mean to crash into him at Quidditch practice.

HOGWARTS AU. if that doesn’t temp you, idk what will. My fav Aokuro fic.

Maybe a touch of your hand by skinandbones

[Written for AoKuroWeek 2015]: Aomine moves into a new apartment and befriends a ghost boy.

no bc this fic made me cry too. pls read it 🎶ifwehad5moreminutes🎶

The Boyfriend Jersey by exuberant_imperfection, kate882

Kuroko, in a half-asleep mistake, ends up wearing Aomine's jersey to school.

THIS FIC IS CUTE SUCH DORKS

Hey, Come Here Often? by imabignerd

In which Momoi holds his magazines hostage, Aomine hates everything and everyone, and Kuroko is politely bewildered.

Aomine crushes on the lifeguard!Kuroko & Momoi is a little shit about it 😌🤍

Midokuro Recommendations

It’s Always your Fault! by warsandwich

Kuroko and Midorima are secretly dating, but Takao finds out their secret. De-anon from the anon meme.

Short, sweet, & funny 😌.

Partnership by Fayah

Their partnership starts in English class, but like everything else in their lives, turns into a matter of basketball.

Midorima really cares for Kuroko 🥺

Midokuro Ficlet by pandacchii

based off of imagineyourotp blog post: "Imagine your otp confessing while they were half asleep" Pairing: Midorima/Kuroko

short story but it’s really cute ☺️

An Unexpected Alignment by cinnaelle

Midorima Shintarou does not expect such a reoccurring encounter. But the wheels of fate are turning and Akashi moves his shogi piece.

well-written i love it sm. deserves more praise

The Way You Come Undone by oshare_banchou

"Midorima Shintarou is completely silent during sex. And Kuroko, who is both fascinated and frustrated by this discovery, wonders just how much it would take to make him come undone." - Kuroko/Midorima, in that order

do i need to say more? 😫

Kikuro Recommendations

Careless Whisper by DarkWoods

When Kuroko is dared to come up with some dirty talk, no one expects him to be good at it. Certainly not Kise.

my favorite kikuro fanfic. flustered!kise & tease!kuroko

如果的事 (If) by stormterror

People fall in love in many different manners. Love feels like many different things to many people, but Kise Ryouta thinks there's nothing that quite beats the feeling of being in love with Kuroko Tetsuya. [kise/kuroko]

SO GOOD I CRIED I SMILED SO HARD. pls kikuro deserves the world

Wires, Connecting by Bakagami

It's like being blind but not, like touching air, grasping at straws, voices dissipating and reverberating.

This story is locked so you need to login into ao3 to read it. PHONE SEX & DIRTY TALK 🥵

He Promised by imabignerd

Kise promised he'd smile for Kuroko the whole way through, all the way to the end.

Zombie apocalypse AU. Death. sobbing violently.

It’s a Small World by SilentSilhouette

Kise tries to find his soulmate through social media. Soulmate AU where a picture of your soulmate is tweeted to you on your sixteenth birthday.

This one made me crackle & laugh😂😂

Murakuro Recommendations

No Such Thing as Too Much Vanilla by plumtrees

Kuroko and Murasakibara have baking days. What do you mean it isn't canon?

baking!boyfriends & fluff 😌😉

Vanilla Cream by yoimrei

Murasakibara eats Kurokos ass after something Ahomine says which sparks his jealousy.

here me out first, the ass eating in this is *chef’s kiss* 🤌🏽🤌🏽

Philia by DarkWoods

That time Murasakibara and Kuroko started kinda-sorta fake dating, and kinda-sorta never bothered to break up.

Still going & i love this writer sm. i read all their stories 😙✌🏽

Lavender Secrets by SailorHikarinoMu

Kuroko was the one to bring out his true love for basketball, which had been hidden from prying eyes since the beginning. It was one of those things he was unsure whether he should feel grateful for, but all the same, it did mean something. What this 'something' was, exactly? Murasakibara did not know. Not yet.

FLUFF AAA FLUFF

Rainy by overdose

Kuroko listened to the rain pouring, and more importantly, Murasakibara's steady breathing.

smut. couch sex. size difference. 🥴

BONUS

Hanamiya Makoto/Kuroko Tetsuya

Scotomas by Darkenedcrystal

After the game against Jabberwock, Kagami goes overseas and Kuroko finds himself without a light. A slightly angsty, rather light-hearted story about what happens to Kuroko after Kagami leaves. Features teens finding their way around life, Seirin without a light, the Generation of Miracles being a family, the teens finding love and appreciating the heartbreaks. Kuroko tries to find his own style without a light, and stumbles into the darkness that is Hanamiya Makoto instead. Extra chapter added!

love this fic so much. downside: akashi is kinda a dick

Of Unlikely Friendships, Sneaky Bets, Shogi and Sake by itsthechocopuff

Imayoshi had introduced his two favourite kouhai to each other as an experiment. He did not predict they'd get along so well, both being shadows, but they did, and they worked, oddly enough. Hanamiya brought out the worst in Kuroko, while Kuroko brought out the the best in the other; and they both caused heartattacks to unsuspecting teammates who could not believe their darling shadow was not as innocent as he seemed.

you wont regret reading this one omg

Haizaki Shougo/Kuroko Tetsuya

A Taste That Lingers by therealmoyashi

I couldn't say anything, and that was alright because he didn't want an answer. I'll never forget the way that tasted. Yeah, I thought, he ruined me.

i cried reading this for the first time. out of character kuroko

By the Tomatoes by Wayfarer_Rye

It starts with a blue-grey t-shirt that says "Nothing but Net".

Haizaki wants to try again.

[hikarus-shida]

Hook: "Apologize"

Hook x gender neutral!reader genre: fluff towards end, kind of angsty but not really warning: mentioning of arguing, some swearing - also not proofread

summary: reader and hook argue before a show. hook thinks everything is fine hours later, when it's not, so he apologizes to reader requested by: anonymous (I hope you enjoy!) Masterlist Tag List: @cutierocker202

I started this imagine about an hour ago and actually kind of liked how it turned out. The only bad part is how bad the writers block gets! I hope you all enjoyed it though.

*I do not own this gif!*

There was only an hour before Dynamite started and you spent about 20 minutes of it arguing with Hook about shit you’ve already forgotten by now. At this point, the two of you were talking just to rebuttal each other and not let the other feel right, which made two of you in the wrong. You didn’t care about that right now, all you care about was getting away from Hook and his annoying mouth.

“God Hook, you’re not winning this fight. You think you can talk, talk, talk and come out of this in the right. You’re never right and right now? You sound like an asshole. So just do me a favor and don’t talk to me for the rest of the night.” You snapped at him, having enough of hearing his voice. You walked away before he could even respond, not bothering to look back.

Luckily enough for you, there was nothing set up for you to do tonight on Dynamite. So, that means you had all the time in the world to cool down and be away from Hook. You had went to the locker rooms and put your headphones on, playing music to calm you down. Of course, a sad song had came on and you had groaned - you weren’t in the mood to be sad or think about him either.

It was a stupid argument. You and Hook argued because he didn’t like how close you were to some new indie wrestler that previously made an appearance on Dark the day before. Hook didn’t even greet you like he normally did, he acted cold and gave you an attitude, telling you “to go talk to your new partner”. You felt the way that he acted was out of line and incredibly ridiculous, but his jealousy made him think otherwise.

You didn’t realize how long you’d been in the locker room until you had checked the time on your phone, 9:30 appearing on your lock screen. It almost scared you how quick time passed you by, you’d practically missed almost all of Dynamite. You were a bit sad that Hook hadn’t reached out to you, but you pushed all that away considering you were still kind of mad at him.

Leaving the locker room, you made a beeline to catering. Sitting for almost two hours, hiding away from everyone, had made you crave a drink. You had grabbed a water and took a seat, watching the monitor to catch the last few minutes of Dynamite.

What you didn’t know is that Hook was coming up right behind you to take a seat right next to you. You felt a pair of eyes stuck on you, but ignored it until an arm wrapped around your shoulders. You turned your head to look at the person in disgust, but was sort of relieved to see it was Hook. The look of disgust, however, settled back onto your face and you removed his arm from around your shoulders.

Hook looked at you with confusion. “What’s wrong with you? You never do that.”

The fuse you had tried so hard to not let burst was going to any minute now, but you knew it would be a bad idea to explode on Hook for being such a clueless ass, especially in catering.

“Did you forget about our argument two hours ago? You know, the one you started? Why are you acting like that never happened and expecting me to be okay with you?” You tried your hardest to not lose your patience, but this was just a whole other level of ridiculousness.

“I thought we would’ve forgotten about it and everything would be fine. Don’t tell me you’re still mad.” Hook sighed, now he felt like an asshole, which he still was in this moment. He should’ve known to approach you with an apology in one hand and hugs in the other.

“Now what on earth would make you think we would be fine? Especially when you started it and never apologized. You accused me of flirting with someone. I’d never do that to you. You know that and for you to think otherwise, that hurts.” You felt tears well up in your eyes, but you refused to cry. Hook stayed silent, his expression full of guilt as his lips fell down into a frown.

He took a hold of your hands, resisting a smile that was begging to pop onto his face when you didn’t let go. “You’re right, Y/N, and you should say it. I should’ve never accused you of that. I shouldn’t have been petty either, that wasn’t smart of me or even who I am. I feel like an asshole and like a terrible person. I know you better than anyone else just like you do with me and I should’ve trusted you, I do trust you. I was being really stupid. I should’ve approached my jealousy in a healthier way and told you. I’m sorry, Y/N. I know there’s nothing I could do to not make you mad at me anymore, but I do apologize with everything in my heart.”

You could tell Hook was being genuine, but that was something you never wanted to happen again. That was your first serious argument with him and honestly, it was very frustrating. You couldn’t handle it if you were ever that upset with him again.

“I accept your apology, but that can’t happen again. I’m sorry that you were jealous Hook, however you needed to handle it differently though. I understand that it may be hard, but I can help you navigate that. Like you said, it should’ve been done healthier. I’m glad we can talk about this now without being rude to each other because this is how it’s supposed to be. And I don’t ever want to fight with you again, it sucked.” You took a look at his face, the guilt still apparent. His eyes reminding you of a child that had just got caught doing something that they didn’t mean to; sadness and nervous.

You held into his hands, your thumb rubbing over his knuckles to soothe him. “It’ll never happen again. You’re so understanding, I should’ve just said it. I’m so lucky to have you, you... Y/N, you’re just everything to me. I never wanna fight again, I can’t. I love you too much to put you through that hurt and pain.”

Hook pulled you into a hug, his hands rubbing your back as his head laid on your shoulder. You began to rub his back as well, taking in this moment. You hated being mad at him, but now that you had talked it through and he apologized, everything felt okay again. But you surely weren’t going to forget about this moment; it was a teachable one that you didn’t want to forget, incase you two ever had another issue.

[writefasttalkevenfaster]

Aaron Hotchner / August Part I

Request: Hotch and reader become unlikely friends after a broken doorknob brings them together, and maybe start to feel something a little more? (College AU) 

Word Count: 8,224

Warnings: Fluff, angst, mutual pining, mentions of Hotch’s dad and difficult home life, Haley being jealous, a kiss (*gasp*), 

He was never yours, you thought, your fingers grasping at the pen, the same hands that had held his once. You knew that, but you let him in anyway.

Into your apartment. Into your life. Into your heart. 

And then you let him go. 

Out of your apartment. Out of your life. Out of your heart. 

You signed your name, placing it on the arrangement of fresh cut white lilies, wrapped in plastic, before handing it to the florist.

But you wouldn’t now, not again. 

~~~

A knock on your door roused you from sleep. A groan on your lips, you rolled over on your bed, kicking off what remained of your thin blanket draped over you. A cool breeze rolled over you, cutting through the thick, sticky August humidity, but it wasn’t enough to lull you back to sleep. And the sharp rapping at your door certainly didn’t help. You grumbled, stuffing the pillow over your head, hoping whoever it was would take a hint. 

KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.

Apparently not. 

You threw yourself up, face twisted in a scowl, as your eyes flickered to your clock: 12:17 AM. 

Yet another knock, and you pulled on a robe over your tank and shorts, draping it over your shoulders, “I’m coming,” you growled, and the fourth knock stopped short, and you tripped over nearly every piece of furniture in your sleep, throwing open the door, “what?” 

He blinks, his dark hair as black at the night behind him, several locks falling in front of his forehead, “Sorry, I, uh—” 

“Hotchner?” you tilt your head, crossing your arms, “what are you doing here?” 

And it’s his turn to be confused, “I’m sorry, do we—” 

He didn’t remember you — how lovely, an unwelcome interruption who doesn’t bother to learn your name. You tell him your name, and it still doesn’t register, “We’re in the same criminal justice class? The one we literally started last week?” One of two summer classes that you seriously believed that you conned into taking, all in the hopes that you would be able to finish up your degree a semester earlier. If you passed, you would be done next semester.

Red runs across his cheeks, “I’m sorry, I sit in the front, I—” 

You wave him off, while fanning yourself with your hand, “I don’t care honestly, just why? Why are you here?”

A flush climbs his neck, “I just moved in next door, and I got locked out of my apartment. The door handle is rusted over, and my roommate is out of town—” 

“And?” you rubbed at your brow, your manners didn’t exactly shine at 12 AM. 

“Could I stay with you? Just for tonight,” he held up his hands, “we have that midterm tomorrow in Crim, and I really—” 

“So you remember the midterm but not my name huh?” and the flush bridges over his nose and cheekbones, “I’m kidding Hotchner.” you scratch your head — on one hand, you didn’t want to let a stranger into your apartment, but at the same time, you didn’t want him to sleep outside his apartment, you sighed, “take the couch, but I’m locking my door, and I don’t want you disturbing me unless I’m somehow sleeping through the exam tomorrow.” 

“Thank you, I—” you wave him off, “I really appreciate—” 

“Just come in,” you yawn, stretching your tired muscles, still heavy with the sleep you were deprived of, but just like that, you felt your mind rouse, sleep deflating from your head in a slow leak, “ugh fuck.” 

“What’s wrong?” 

“I’m wide awake now,” if looks could kill, you were sure your criminal justice class would be investigating Hotchner’s murder, “I have a hard time falling back asleep once I’m awake.” 

He raises a brow, “I thought you were exhausted?” 

“Well tell that to my brain,” you groan, collapsing in an armchair, covering your face, “now I’m going to be up until 5 AM.” 

He glances at your kitchen, “How about I make us some tea?” you look up, lips twisted in a frown, “decaffeinated, if you have it?” 

“Third drawer from the left,” you snuggle into the chair, hoping to lull your brain into a false sense of sleep.

  His voice cuts through your haze, the familiar click of the gas burner, “Can I ask you something?” 

“At your own risk,” you mumble, utterly too comfortable. 

“How did you know who I was?” the sink knob squeaks as he turns it, the rush of water, the quiet hum of the water as it filled the cups he was undoubtedly rinsing now, “there must be at least fifty people in that class.” 

“You make a hell of an impression, Hotchner,” you sigh, shifting in your chair, wiping the sweat from the back of your neck, “the first day of class, you argued with the professor about his opinions about criminal justice reform and the necessity of it, or as he put it, the unessential nature of it. ” 

“Well, his opinion was wrong,” you laughed, eyes still very much shut, “his opinion wasn’t even based on facts, he was just dictating to us on his own notions—” 

“I know, and you made sure he knew that,” you finally opened your eyes when you heard the tea kettle whistle, “that’s why I remembered your name — the way he asked you for it, and the way you replied—” 

He poured the hot water into each freshly washed mug, “With hopefully with an equal amount of respect,” 

“A very minimal amount,” you propped your head up on your elbow, watching him bring over the mugs. 

“So an equal amount,” you take the mug from his hand, pressing it against your lips, warming your lips, chuckling, “I give respect to those who deserve it.” 

“And what does that mean for me?” and he smiles. 

He raises his mug, a wry smile on his lips, “Well considering you could kick me out at any point, I have the utmost respect.” 

You roll your eyes, hiding the smile on your lips by taking a sip, “Smart.” 

~~~

And you soon learned Hotchner was very smart — when he touted his 100% on the exam a week later, next to your measly 98%.

“You owe me two points, Hotchner,” you would say to him, walking back to your apartment building, the humidity as thick as a fog. You tugged at your oversized shirt, hanging loosely around your torso, but somehow still sticking to your sweaty body. You felt like a drowned rat who hadn’t even had the pleasure of being in the water, “I would have gotten your score if someone hadn’t woken me up in the middle of the night.” 

“Well, how about instead of talking the professor into giving you two points, how about a coffee instead?” he offers, hands in his pockets, “on me.” 

You grin, “It better be.” 

~~~

“FBI track?” you whistle lowly, sitting across from Hotchner in a coffee shop around the corner from your building, “some ambitions you got there, Hotchner.” 

“I aim high,” he takes a sip of his drink, “What? Can’t see me as an agent?” You shrug, your eyes flickering over his form, biting your lip — well he would look good in a suit and tie, wouldn’t he? And the vest— “What are you smiling about?” 

“Just imagining you as a G-man,” you admit, a grin on your lips, “let’s just say I’ll believe it when I see it.” 

“And what high aspirations do you have?” 

“Nothing too fancy,” you stir your drink, watching the liquid swirl, “law school is the plan, hopefully eventually landing at a corporate firm and then move into the nonprofit sector.” 

“You don’t seem so excited,” you shrug. 

“Not everyone has high hopes and dreams, G-man,” and he rolls his eyes, lips pressed into a purse, unconvinced, “well I would love to be a writer, but I don’t know.” 

“You don’t know?” he raises an eyebrow, “or you’re too scared to try?” 

“Cute mind games, nice try,” you sigh, eyes falling to stare at your drink again, “it’s hard to believe in yourself when you’re the only one who does, and I can barely manage it.” 

He leans back in his chair, black locks falling across his forehead, “Well, how about I pick up the slack?” 

“You don’t have to say that—” 

“I want to,” he cuts you off, and you glance up, his gaze utterly paralyzing and earnest, that you almost want to believe and maybe you do just a little — otherwise that thump against your ribcage is something else — some other feeling you are not ready to contend with. But you don’t get the chance. He breaks your gaze to glance at the clock, and curses, “I have to get home. My girlfriend is going to be calling me soon.”

Your heart twists, but you ignore it, because this was enough — this moment was enough, “Yeah, get home quick. You gotta tell that girlfriend of yours about that grade of yours. Nothing is hotter than a nerd,” 

“Speaking from experience?” you scoff, and he pauses, “can we do this again sometime? This was fun.” 

It was enough, right? 

You smile, “Of course.” 

~~~

“Fucking fuck—” you hissed the shattered glass all over the floor, and the hot liquid splattered across the wood, “Shit.” you stare at the mess, cursing, stepping over the broken glass, as you pick up the shards with a cloth napkin, grabbing the broom and dustpan from the closet. 

You sweep up the mess best you can, but now before cutting your finger on a shard, “Shit, fuck,” you wrap the cloth around the wound, digging through the drawers for a bandage. Fuck your roommate for going away for the summer, and also moving everything around while digging through the apartment for their shit. You slam the last drawer shut, no bandages, but you found a dozen condoms of varying shapes and colors — not exactly useful for treating a wound. 

So either you walk down to the corner to the store with a cloth wrapped around your finger, or you could tie this cloth around your finger while you studied. 

Well, you glanced at the door, there was a third option. 

You and Hotchner had seen quite a bit of each other over the past few weeks— June bleeding into July — studying, watching TV, grabbing bad coffee after class. He was one of the only people in three years who had made you comfortable to be yourself — to admit to things you would have never dreamed of telling, without guarantee of a memory wipe (well maybe if he joined the FBI). 

What was it about him anyway? 

He opened the door, a smile pulling at his lips, before he glanced at your hand, “What happened?” 

“Cut myself on some glass, do you have a bandage neighbor?” you glanced at the door knob, “I see the landlord finally fixed your door knob, so I won’t have any more late night visits.” 

“Come in,” he herds you in, shutting the door behind him, “give me a second, I have to find the first aid kit.” 

You grip the cloth, watching him dart around the apartment, brow furrowed, eyes narrowed in concentration — you particularly enjoyed the way his lower lip— no. No you could not do this. 

“You’d think a first aid kit would be easier to find,” you call after his disappearing back, “since ‘first’ is in the title.” 

“And where’s yours?” he asks, as he walks back into the living room, kit in hand, “I don’t think you’d be over here if you found yours.” 

“Ah, I like the company,” he raises an eyebrow, placing the kit beside you, “plus I don’t have to use my own bandages,” you watch him grab a paper napkin, running it under water, before returning. You reach for the cloth, but he brushes you off, taking your wrist, “you don’t have to—” 

“It’s fine,” his eyes remained concentrated, as he pulled the rag away from your finger, “it’s mostly stopped bleeding now, it’s not so deep.” 

“Really, Dr. Hotchner?” and you hissed a little as he cleaned the wound, red staining the nearly translucent tissue, “did you ever consider a career in medicine?” 

He clicked his tongue, his hand was so much bigger than yours, his touch gentle, sending warmth blooming up your body, “Biology puts me to sleep,” he raises his eyes, “no jokes. Plus,” he scrunches his face and pulls the napkin away, grimacing at the blood, “I don’t like blood.” 

You chuckle,  “Come on, Mr. FBI agent, won’t you have to deal with a lot of blood?” 

His lips twist in a line, “Actually seems like I may see you in law school,” 

You furrow your brow, “What do you mean?” he sighs, grabbing a bandage from the kit, peeling the backing off of it, “Hotchner—” 

“Law school is a safer option. I can still put bad guys away, I can be a prosecutor, and I won’t be at risk of getting shot—” 

“Bullshit,” you cross your arms, “it’s not what you want.” 

“It’s not always about me—” 

“This is your life,” you get up, and his shoulder sag, “we get one life, Hotchner — are you going to waste it doing what other people want?” 

“You’re one to talk,” he snaps, “you should be a writer, but you’re going to law school, just like me.” 

You know he’s right — you know you’re a hypocrite, but you don’t care, “Why did you change your mind?” 

Your question is quiet, but heavy — it hangs in the air, in the silence, and you feel as if you know the answer already, “I was talking to Haley,” and you hold your tongue, “it’s safer if I go to law school. It’ll be better when we start our life together.” 

“Hotchner—” 

“That’s not the only reason,” he swallows thickly, he slumps in his chair, “my father — he—” his voice broke. 

You shake your head, throat dry, “You don’t have to—” 

“He abused us,” he says quietly, “He worked a lot, and if it wasn’t for that, I…” he trailed off, glancing down, “but when he was around…” he scoffed, “nothing was good enough. No one could please him, not my mom or my brother. I never tried. He didn’t like that,” he ran his fingers across his face, flinching as if he can still remember the blows, “It wasn’t long after he gave me a black eye and broke my rib that he had shipped me off to boarding school. And I never looked back.” 

Your chest aches,“Aaron—” 

“I want a good job, and I want a good life,” his eyes are hard when he looks up, “ I don’t want to be the kind of husband that my wife isn’t happy to see. I don’t want to be the father who isn’t there. I want to give them everything I have, and if this is what it takes…” he shrugs, biting his lip. 

“I understand, I get it,” and he nods, taking your hand again to place the bandage over your cut, “But Aaron, one thing?” he smooths over the bandage with his finger, glancing up, “just don’t lose yourself along the way, okay?” 

Your fingers entangle with his, he squeezes your hand, “It’s a promise.” 

~~~

There’s a knock on the door, but you don’t bother to get up from your bed. Only twisting in the sheets, burying your head in the soft comfort of the pillow. And you hear the faint and familiar call of your name through the plaster thick walls and paper thin doors.

And you knew how this went. 

So you rolled out of bed, stalking over to the door, but instead of opening it, you frowned at it, rubbing at your forehead, “What?”

“Some way to greet someone who brought you today’s notes and assignment,” and you sigh, opening the door, plucking the assignment from his hands, tilting your head. 

“Thank you. Anything else?” 

He frowns, “What’s wrong?” you sigh, shaking your head. 

“You sure that you’re here to study criminal justice? Maybe you would be better off as a Psychology major,” you mutter, allowing him in, as you collapse on the couch in a huff. And you see him sit, waiting and watching, and you slump against the cushion, “what?” 

“Words are dangerous around you,” he shrugs, “I’m waiting for them not to be.” 

“I’m just having a bad day,” you cross your arms, words sharp, “have you ever had one before?” and then you crumple at the hurt that flashes across his face, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry — this is why I wanted to be left alone.” 

And he moves, sliding in beside you, grabbing the TV remote from the coffee table, “You up for something light?” and you furrow your brow, “or we could watch what I want to watch?” 

“What are you doing?” 

“You clearly don’t want to talk about it, but I’m not going to leave you alone,” he shifts next to you, gaze unverring from the now lit TV, casting the contours of his face in a low light, “so what are we watching?” 

He clicks on some medical drama, and you snatch the remote from him, hiding your smile from him, as your shoulder brushes his, “Not this.” 

~~~

Aaron doesn’t remember when he falls asleep, but he does. When he wakes up, the sun has already peaked over the horizon, the low hum of the TV rousing him from his sleep. And he stirs, before feeling a distinct weight on his shoulder, the mumble of his name near his ear, and fingers brushing his thigh. 

His eyes flutter open, and he realizes where he is. 

Shit. You both had fallen asleep. His neck aches as he turns to look at you, making him pay for the position the muscles were forced to contort to the night before. He glances at you, biting his lip. You snore softly against his shoulder, lips parted. A few strands of hair fall across your forehead. He brushes them back, tucking them into place. He should move. He should wake you. But he doesn’t. He watches you sleep a moment — you were so peaceful, unlike yesterday. 

There was a part of him that wished you would have told him what was wrong. Told him what was bothering you. Told him what was on your mind. Told him everything about you. 

But that was normal right? Friends always want to know everything about each other? And he would consider you a close friend, right? A friend, a good friend. Just a friend. 

You murmur his name again, under your breath, and he feels a small shiver run down his spine, as he shuts his eyes again, finding your hand and resting his on top. 

Just a few more minutes. 

~~~

“Hey Hotchner,” you knock at his door, clutching your binder to your chest, hearing only silence in return. “I wanted to give your notes back, and see you were free, open up,” still nothing, you knock harder, “come on. I know you don’t have class today, I really don’t want to go to that movie alone—” Your fist nearly collides with a person’s face as the door whips open, and you rear back, finding not Hotchner, but a very upset girl, “hi, uh—” 

“Who are you?” she crossed her arms across her petite frame, her blond hair tied in a loose pony, bangs hanging loose and framing her face. 

“Hi,” you say your name, plastering a weak smile on your lips — you weren’t used to this much hostility this quickly (usually at least took five minutes before someone hated you this much), “I’m Hotchner’s neighbor, we’re in the same criminal justice class. I wanted to return his notes and see if he was free—” 

“He’s not,” a saccharine smile pulls at the corners of her mouth, “He’s spending the weekend with me. I’m his girlfriend, Haley.” 

You nod, “He’s mentioned you before, it’s nice to meet you—” 

“And you,” her fake smile informs you that it very much has not been nice to meet you, as her eyes flicker to the bathroom, “Aaron’s busy, but I’ll let him know you dropped by—” and you open your mouth, holding the notes up, “I’ll take those. Thanks again. Bye!” 

The door shuts, as you stand mouth open, staring at the door. 

And that was Haley. 

~~~

You see Aaron the next Monday in class, as he slides in beside you, rubbing his eyes, hair askew, “What happened to you?” 

“Didn’t sleep very well last night,” he mumbles, pulling his book from his bag, and you frown, opening your mouth again, only to be interrupted by your professor. 

Class passes in a painfully slow haze as always, with one exception — Hotchner wasn’t taking notes. Usually each class he would be thoughtfully taking careful notes, while you scribbled every word the professor said, hoping your notes would be legible when needed later. But today, he wasn’t. Instead, he stared straight forward, his pen unmoving, lying flat against the page between his fingers, but he wasn’t looking at the professor. Not really anyway. His eyes were glazed over, his brow impossibly furrowed, expression twisted under a thick haze of anxiety and worry. Even when the professor adjourned the class for the day, he still sat, staring at the blank notebook page. 

“You planning to attend the next class? Heard that Immunology is a hot ticket,” and he jerks from his thoughts, blinking as he glances around the quickly emptying classroom. 

“Shit,” the expletive flies from his mouth, as he gathers his things, shoving them unceremoniously into his bag, following you out of the room as students for the next class begin to file into their unassigned assigned seats. 

He doesn’t say a word as you both schlep back to the apartment building, the only accompaniment the low buzz of flies, the too warm embrace of the sun, and the silence that hangs between the two of you, much like a funeral march. 

“Okay,” you said, standing in front of him, “what is going on?” 

“Nothing, I’m fine—” 

“So you don’t want the notes from today?” his mouth opens and closes, shaking his head, “Hotchner, you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to — but I just want to know you’re okay.” 

“I’m having a bad day, you ever had one before?” he echoes your words, before a smile pulls at the corners of his lips, a heavy sigh following it, but your gaze is unwavering, “You really care, don’t you?” 

Your cheeks burn, ignoring the way your heart skipped a beat, helplessly exposed, scratching at your skin under his steady gaze. You hide it under rolled eyes and a coy smile, “That’s what friends do, isn’t it?” 

Friends, just friends. Because that was all you were. That was why you cared. 

And you don’t notice the corners of his lips falling or the dimmed amusement in his eyes, “Of course,” he sighs, “I’m fine, just long distance with Haley has been hard on both of us.” 

You nod, not bothering to bring up your tension injected meeting in the hallway, “I understand, it’s tough doing long distance,” 

And you see an unreadable look cross his expression, before it’s gone in a moment, and he just sighs, “Yeah.” 

~~~

Things don’t get better. 

When Haley isn’t here, Hotchner is constantly on the phone. And when she is, you could hear the faint sound of yelling through your all too thin walls, until you chose to put on headphones to drown out the noise. 

You don’t want to hear his heart breaking anymore than he wants it broken. 

He’s quiet in class, and snapping when he’s not. He comes out less. He declines your invites. He spends most of his time on the goddamn phone. 

And it stings. 

You stare at the wall you share, the apartment feeling wholly emptier than it did at the start of summer. You glare at it, a cross between huff and a sigh filling the silence for a moment. How did Hotchner weasel himself into so deeply in his life that you felt his absence? 

Three years at this school, and you had barely made a friend. It was hard in large lecture halls and even small classrooms lined with people who were nothing like you. It was harder when you often left class right after. It was difficult to connect to people, it was difficult to get beyond small talk. But it was never difficult with Hotchner. 

Not once. 

You supposed that’s what made this so difficult. And there was nothing more to it than that — right? The question lingered in the back of your mind, an unspoken thought that did not wish to be punctuated with a question mark, but nevertheless was. 

It was stupid. It was so stupid. You lay back on the couch, staring at the ceiling, pulling a cushion over your face — hoping it would be enough to drown out the “evidence” your mind presented as signs of his affection — it wasn’t. 

He stayed with you that night. Like a friend would. 

He always is looking at you, longer than necessary. You’re imagining it. 

He was so gentle when you got cut. You were hurt, he was trying to help. 

He told you about his dad and about his dreams. Again, a friend? He trusted you, but it doesn’t mean he has feelings. 

He fell asleep with you on the couch. And then went back to sleep. You paused. That was one thing you couldn’t explain. 

You were awake when he had woken up, you had felt him rouse because you had already awoken yourself, his name flying from your lips without a thought when you saw him, felt his solid presence, his head resting against yours. You panicked. So you pretended to be asleep, and you felt him awake, heard his pause, felt his touch, and then felt him settle back in beside you. 

But you didn’t know why. 

It was easy to explain things away, it was simple — but nothing was simple when it was him. Nothing was easy. 

~~~

"No I'm sure, I don't want to go to the party tonight." you waved off Alex, who still followed you instead, her arms crossed. 

“You shouldn’t be waiting for him to call,” you furrow your brow, as she jerks her head toward the wall you and Hotchner shared, “you need to move on.” 

“I’m not waiting, I’m just tired, and unlike you, I haven’t had the entire summer off, and just came back after a fabulous vacation,” you cross your arms, lips pursed, but you know that she sees right through you, “just go, Alex. I’ll come to the next one I promise.” 

She sighs dramatically, shaking her head, "I'll see you tomorrow." The door shuts behind you and you groan. 

What the fuck were you doing? 

Who were you kidding? You collapsed onto your couch, facefirst into the couch cushions. You knew what the fuck you were doing — the exact thing you promised to never do, you sighed loudly into the cushion, pulling a pillow over your head — canceling any plans in hopes a guy would call. A guy — a guy with a girlfriend who he was in love with, one who didn’t give you the time of day anymore, and one who was barely a friend now. 

But still, he wasn’t just any guy was he? He was Aaron Hotchner. 

And that was the fucking problem. 

But right now, you turned your head to glance at the clock, your main problem was that you were still conscious, and that meant it was time to go to sleep. You looked to the wall you and Hotchner shared — you weren’t going anywhere tonight, that was for sure. 

~~~

KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.

You groan, pulling the pillow over your ears, “This is a joke, right?” and again, you are stumbling out of bed, half asleep and half blind, eyes barely open, “who is it?” But a part of you knew the answer before you even asked. 

“It’s me,” Hotchner intoned, and you opened the door, frown on your lips dropping when you saw his face — even in the dark, you could see the tell tale sign of tear tracks on his cheeks, barely glistening in the dim light, “can I come in?” 

You step aside, shutting the door behind you, “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing,” he shakes his head, and he catches a glimpse of your hands crossed across your chest. He scrubs a hand down his face as he slumps down on your couch, “I just...broke up with Haley.” 

The words echo in your ears, as you gape at him, blinking, “You...what?” you shake the shock from your mind. He needs you right now. He needs your support. 

You slide next to him, “I’m so sorry, Hotchner, I—” the words die on your lips, as you see him stare at the floor, his gaze blank, “hey—” He finds your gaze, his eyes glassy but somehow still so steady, and your heart stutters in your chest, “It isn’t your fault.” 

He gives a bitter chuckle, “How do you know that?” 

“Because I know you,” you tuck one leg under the other, one hanging off the end of the couch, “and I know you wouldn’t hurt anyone, much less Haley, intentionally.” 

His expression is inscrutable as his eyes fall to his lap, his teeth grazing his bottom lip, and he looks back to you, “Are you sure?” 

And the question hangs in the air — words wrapped up in meaning, tucked away behind punctuation and subtext. And he’s looking at you — a look that you can’t pin down, but it makes your heart squeeze harder in your chest and your blood turns molten in your veins. Why is he looking at you like that? And why for so long? The way his eyes linger make you want to believe — makes your foolish heart want to believe — maybe, maybe there’s something more to his question, something he’s asking you without asking you. A question within a question, that only makes your head spin and butterflies bloom in your stomach. 

“Of course I am,” a statement within a statement, tentative and as unsaid as his, but the words were on your tongue like an ice cube, rapidly melting away like your hope was that maybe — maybe this was something more. But the moment is broken when he looks away, and silence encroaches once again, strangling and consuming — you have to say something, anything to break it. More than that, you needed to do something — so you said the only thing that occurred to you, “Do you want to go to a party?” 

~~~

You were surprised. 

And you weren’t sure by what more — the fact Hotchner agreed to go to a party on a weekday or the fact he was two shots ahead of you now. 

The party was in full swing by the time you arrived. The blaring music shook the fraternity house to the screws and joists holding the building together. The kitchen had been set up as one giant alcohol station — bottles of every kind of cheap alcohol lining the counters and shelves, much of which Hotchner was helping himself to. 

He was pouring himself another shot, and another beer into a red cup, as you watched him, eyebrow raised. 

“Pace yourself,” you tell him over the music, as he downs another, no chaser, the chaser long forgotten, but Haley seemingly wasn’t by the melancholy scrawled across his face, “have you eaten a single thing tonight?” 

“Isn’t the point of college parties to drink?” his words are more than a little slurred, his usual crisp intonation down for the count, and his balance was barely existent at this point, swaying as he spoke. 

“To drink, not to leave in a body bag,” you say, placing a steadying hand on his shoulder, and to your surprise he doesn’t brush it off — no, his hand rests over it, holding it there. His eyes flutter shut, as he leans against your hand and his, “You alright there?” your cheeks burn as his eyes open again, his gaze intense and steady, and you see something you hadn’t seen before — a look that you can’t decipher. 

“Let’s go,” he says suddenly, his hand around your wrist now, dragging you through the kitchen and the throng of people in the house. 

“Where are we going?” you call over the roar of the party, but you don’t know if he even hears you, his head still turned as he weaves through the crowd, and up the stairs, until he pulls you into an empty bedroom, the door shutting behind you. Moonlight streams in from the window beside the bed, what little light illuminating his figure in the inky black between the shutters, “Hotchner, what is—” 

“I just wanted to say sorry,” he shakes his head, sitting on the bed, gaze dropped to his feet, “sorry for pushing you away. I didn’t mean to— I didn’t want to— I just—” 

“It’s okay,” you find your way to his side, the creak of the bed beside him making him look to you, “It happens. You were going through something. I’m not mad—” 

“You’re important to me,” he shakes his head again, insistently, “I shouldn’t have— I was a fucking ass, I just—” 

“Hey, I know you’re a fucking ass,” and he scoffs, “who’s the bigger fool? The person who’s an ass or the person that’s friends with him?” 

“I always knew you were a nerd, but Star Wars, really?” he grins, elbowing you, “you are full of surprises.” 

“Takes a nerd to know a nerd,” and he leans back, palms splayed against the bed, “I am a person of many facets.” 

“I know,” he whispers, finding your gaze in the dark, “And that’s what I love about you.”

You blink, your heart stuttering in your chest, “Hotchner—” 

He leans forward, his fingers cupping your cheek, his eyes flickering from your lips to your eyes and back again. He’s so close, you can see his eyelashes flutter as he stares at you half-lidded, the heat from his body radiating off of him, as his chest nearly brushes yours now, “I’ve wanted— I want to kiss you,” he murmurs, his words sending warmth blooming across your cheeks — his scent consumes you — pine, musk, and mint, your breath stolen by his words — ferreted away in the night that covers you both. 

“Please,” you whisper into the night, and when his lips brush yours, you wonder if it is real. Or a dream of your own design in the dark. But no, it’s real as the forehead that brushes yours after he parts a moment, “Aaron,” you sigh against him. 

Your lips find his again, noses brushing, and he lingers this time — more sure, but still hesitant. Just as hesitant as you are. He’s sweet on your lips, sliding against yours softly, his thumb brushing at your cheek, before your fingers knot themselves in his hair, deepening the kiss. You want more, you need more. And you hear him moan against your lips, a deep rumble that sends a shiver up and down your body. 

Then his tongue runs across your lips and you taste it — the alcohol on his lips, and you remember — Haley, the drinking, everything — it had been just to get over her. 

And your palms press against his chest, stopping him, his quiet pants still warming your lips, “I can’t do this.” 

You couldn’t be his rebound. Not after all of this. Not after what you felt for him, what you still felt for him. You didn’t want to be something he’d used to forget, something he’d want to forget. You couldn’t be his second choice. You deserved more. You wanted more. 

But you also wanted him. 

A moment passes, another, and he pulls back, “I understand,” he nods, “I’m sorry if—” 

“Don’t be sorry, you didn’t—” you cut off, “I’m sorry if I—” 

“You didn’t,” he rises slowly to his feet, rubbing at his eyes, “let’s go home?” 

The walk home was in silence, which was somehow more eruciating than the two hour of constant, deafening music you had just endured. Your head throbbed, and whether it was from the alcohol, the music, or the night — you glanced at Hotchner — that was up for debate. Your nausea burned at your throat in time with your headache hitting a crescendo —- just not at this particular moment. 

“Good night,” were the only words he managed when he dropped you at the door, stumbling into his own apartment. And you only realize as you slide into bed that you realize you didn’t explain why you couldn’t — why you couldn’t kiss him. But with your face pressed against the cool pillow, the memory of his lips on yours lingering, and the siren song of sleep, you couldn’t dwell on it. 

Your eyes fluttered shut, the sandman’s embrace too tempting. There was always tomorrow.

~~~

Or maybe there wasn’t, you realized as you stepped out of your apartment, at least, not a tomorrow that included him. After pacing for an hour, convincing yourself to talk to him — to say something about last night — after you had re-lived that kiss a dozen times, after you practiced what you were going to say to him, and after you realized he was worth the risk. 

But you weren’t to him. 

But Haley was. 

Her lips pressed against his, right where yours were last night, her bags dropped beside their feet. His arms winded easily around her waist, comfortable and familiar, pulling her somehow impossibly closer than she already was. Her fingers cupped his cheeks, evidence of tears gliding down her cheeks. He inhales her breath, as they part, murmuring things only the other can hear, until your door bangs against its frame, still helplessly open behind you. 

Their eyes snap to you, and you have to tuck away the hurt and pain quickly — quickly, your lips somehow finding itself in a small smile, even as your heart splintered to pieces in your chest. 

His mouth opens silently, eyes painfully wide a moment, while Haley greets you with a smile, your name from her mouth painful to your ears, “It’s so nice to see you again. Aaron told me he wouldn’t have been surviving class without you.” 

Painful because you can’t hate her, painful because it isn’t her fault, painful because maybe in another life you could have been friends, painful because you had to fall for her boyfriend — “Of course,” you manage to find your voice, “someone has to keep their head on straight.”

And you had to. 

“I keep mine on,” he withers under both of your gazes, “sometimes.” His eyes linger on you a moment too long, but Haley doesn’t seem to notice, instead, stepping over her bags, and pulling you aside a moment. 

“I just wanted to apologize for how I acted before,” she shakes her head, “me and Aaron have been having a hard time lately, and I think I took it out on you — but we’re okay now. I just don’t want any bad feelings between each other because I know you’re a good friend to him.” 

Friend, the word rings in your ears, “Of course,” friend, and you wonder if your ears are bleeding by now, “we’re good. Don’t worry about it.” 

You find him unable to meet your eyes, his stare fixed on Haley instead. 

Of course. 

You were just friends after all. 

~~~

You don’t see him much after that. 

And you prefer it that way. 

There was only one more class before the final, and you arrived late, slipping into the back of the lecture hall, tucked away — out of sight. 

You left before it ended, sparing one last glance at Hotchner. 

Out of mind. 

The exam rolls around soon enough, the study period relatively short for summer courses, and you find yourself packing as you finish studying. But still, your mind drifts to him in between moments of taping up boxes and trying to remember the answers you scribbled on the back of flashcards. You would have been studying with him — he would have quizzed you while you boxed up your kitchen, he would have teased you for your barely legible chicken scratch, and he would have been here. 

But he wasn’t. You folded the flaps of yet another box down, tape gun in hand, pressing it to the lip of the box. 

Out of sight, the rip of tape across cardboard, But was he out of mind? 

~~~

“You’re moving?” he catches you moving boxes out of your place, the van you rented outside, sticking his head out of his apartment, his brow furrowed. 

“I am,” you continue down with your boxes, and he moves forward to help you, but you brush by him, heading down the stairs, “I got it, thanks.” 

But he doesn’t let you go, “I thought you still had another year left—” 

“I’m finishing a semester early,” you reply, opening up the trunk again to place the two boxes in the back, “and next semester I’m studying abroad. That’s why I did summer classes.” 

“Studying abroad?” he blinks, “when—” 

“I’m going home for two weeks, and then I’m flying to Switzerland,” the thump of the boxes is loud in his silence, as you slide them into place, “that day I wasn’t doing well— It was because I had gotten rejected from the program. My financial aid hadn’t pulled through,” you pull the trunk closed again, locking it, before brushing past him and  trudging up the stairs again, “But last week, my financial aid office helped me to find a private lender. So I’m going.” 

You hear the slow clunk of his shoes following you up, as you grab another two boxes, and you finally glance at him, finding his lips in a thin line twisted in something resembling a smile, “Congratulations, I’m really happy for you.” 

“Thank you,” you nod, bite your lip — biting back the words burning on your tongue — hauling the last two boxes into your arms. You try to slip past him again, but he grabs a box from your hands. 

“At least let me help you with this,” at least let me do this if not anything else — unspoken words lingered in the air, his fingers grazing yours as he took it, hefting it with relative ease. 

“You know, I’m happy for you too,” you say when you slide the box into place, after unlocking the trunk again. His brows knit together, and it’s not from the strain of carrying your things down the stairs, “I mean it,” and his eyes meet your gaze — you see too many emotions to pull them apart — sadness, regret, worry — and a few you don’t care to pick apart. It doesn’t matter now, “for you and Haley, it’s great you worked it out. You’re good together.” 

And you know it’s true. He’s happy, lighter than he had been for weeks, but now, his shoulders seem so heavy, weights pressed upon the corners of his lips and against his brow. 

“We are,” he shakes his head, sighing, “I just wanted to say s—” 

“We’re good,” you cut him off with a small smile, and you shut the van up, locking it. You turn back to him, only to find his lips pursed, glancing between you and the van, “I’m not leaving until tomorrow morning, so this isn’t goodbye. Can’t get rid of me that easily.” 

He chuckles, “Intent on dragging this out?” 

“I’ll never make it easy for you, Hotchner,” your hands slip into your pockets, walking back up to your apartment, adding, “but you’ll always have my respect and my friendship.” 

“I know,” he says softly, over the low buzz of the hallway fluorescents, “you’ll always have mine too,” he frowns, looking at your door and his, a question on his lips. 

“I should get to bed early,” you turn to unlock your door, “I’m leaving at 7 tomorrow.” 

“Right,” he shakes his head, stepping back, before sparing one more smile, “I’ll let you get some sleep. I should too —  you don’t mind if I say goodbye tomorrow right?” 

You shake your head, “I expect it, bright and early,” and he rolls his eyes, “Good night Hotchner.” 

“Good night,” he says your name, and even as you shut the door behind you, you love the way his mouth curls around your name — achingly and annoyingly perfect. And you remember what else he could do with those lips, how your name felt whispered against your own lips — 

And you remember who those lips would be kissing for the foreseeable future — at home, at their engagement, at their wedding. You catch yourself, heart twisting unto itself, and you had almost forgotten that it was broken — for a moment. 

And you know — you know then that you can’t say goodbye to him. 

Not in person. 

Because you wanted him still, despite it all. And wanting was enough — for a time. But now wanting only hurt because you were wanting what you would never get. You wanted him — but he was never yours to begin with, was he? 

He wasn’t yours to lose — but you did. 

And he would lose you too. 

~~~

Aaron had woken up on time. 

He woke up before his alarm went off, eyes fluttering open to sunlight streaming in his bedroom window. And he tossed off his sheets, rubbing at his eyes. 

He couldn’t be sad — he was happy for you. 

You were graduating, you were moving on, you were doing something you always wanted to do. He sat up, throwing his legs over the bed, pressing his fist to his lips, elbow digging into his thigh. He only wished he was brave enough to go after what he wanted.

What he wanted, his eyes drifted to the picture of Haley on his bedside table, did he even know what he wanted?

He slips out of bed, brewing two cups of coffee — knowing you would be on the road for quite a while. He still had some time before you were leaving.

He opens his apartment door, finding your apartment door open. The landlord pokes his head out, “Hey Hotchner, that doorknob treating you well?” 

Aaron raises an eyebrow, “It’s fine, what are you doing?” 

“Just going over to see what the damage is and if I’m going to be returning that security deposit or not,” he fussed over the clipboard in his hand, pulling the pencil from behind his ear, “looks like the apartment was in relatively good shape so guess I’ll be mailing a check.” 

“Mailing?” Aaron blinks, and the landlord tilts his head. 

“How else do you suppose I give something to a tenant who has already moved out and split?” In that moment, he brushes past him, peering into your empty apartment — the only things left were those of your roommate’s, “Left about an hour ago in a rush, couldn’t even wait for me to do my walkthrough.” 

He was on time, he was early even, he stepped downstairs to only find the truck long gone. 

But he was still too late. 

Always too late. 

~~~

But always wasn’t always forever. 

“Hey, stranger,” you nestled the phone between your cheek and your shoulder, hands full with a bread dough you were currently trying to knead for its next proof, “it’s been a long time—” 

“Did you hear?” 

“Hear what, Alex?” her voice grows quiet on the phone, “what’s wrong?” 

“You know how I’ve been organizing in preparation for the reunion in a few months?” and you lick your lips, moving to wash your hands. 

“Yeah, you told me about that and said on uncertain terms could I refuse to attend, unless I’d like to risk certain bodily harm,” you shook your head, “I didn’t forget, so is that what—” 

“It’s Haley, Haley Hotchner?” 

You pause, “Yeah Hotchner’s gi— wife?” 

“She died, just a week or two ago,” her voice falters, “I just heard about it from Paul, do you remember him? He was in your poli-sci class. He’s in the FBI too. I wanted to get Aaron’s information, and he told me it probably wasn’t a good time. And I pressed him and then….” 

“Oh my god,” you rested your back to the counter, “How did she—” 

“He didn’t get into details, but it was pretty fresh it seemed like. He’s still on leave, and the funeral is soon.” 

Your hands shook, squeezing your eyes shut as your mind returned to that summer — his smile, his laugh, his touch, his care — “When is it?” 

She says your name slowly, “Why?” 

“I have to go,” you swallow the lump in your throat, “I have to go see him.” 

[house-of-slayterr]

Mx. Writer, I am so sorry I did not know as I am new to your page, pls forgive me •́ ‿ ,•̀

And I really liked your post on my ask, I loved it very much ( ╹▽╹ )

Is it possible that you could write a bit more of their interactions? Ik howl-fantasies and flaysthings are the y/n writers, but I'd really love to see them interacting more, especially with Oswald since he was quite jealous oh the Kryptonian :)

I feel like y/n would have him keep his powers a secret except from the people she deems a bit trustworthy, like Maggie and Bruce? But definitely not Victor haha

Anon, I swear to the gods I am in love with you. You are so kind! To hear how much you love all of our OC's makes my heart melt. Of course, I will write you some more. Because I have no way to tag you, I will write it here. But just know this takes place after Maggie gets back from her trip to Central City with Ivy. Which I have not finished writing quite yet, so these will be slightly out of order. But I'll try not to spoil that chapter here, as nobody in Gotham is even supposed to know what went on, on that trip anyway.

Tag: @howl-fantasies @flaysthings @keffirinne

Home, Sweet Home!

Maggie's POV:

I threw my bag down on the floor of my apartment in frustration. Three weeks, three excruciatingly long weeks. I've never been so happy to see this run-down shit hole in my life. I hurled myself face down into the couch, letting out a frustrated grunt. As I lifted my head, I blew a strand of hair from my face. I looked like shit.

I got off the couch and made my way over to the shower. Hoping the hot water would relax my muscles a bit. I thought over recent events in my head. It would be too soon if I never saw Ivy again. I got out of the shower and got dressed. All the food in my apartment would be trash by now, but that was ok. I would be headed to Oswald's soon. I'm sure he's throwing a tantrum as I speak. I was gone much longer than I wanted to be. And I was drained, both physically and mentally.

I thought back to what happened jsut before I left, and remembered the letter hidden under my fruit bowl. I could deliver this to Victor. He deserved to know about it. Lord knows where that kid was now. If they meant him harm, well they were stupid, but at least he should know they're coming.

I threw on an oversized sweater, trying to hide the many scrapes and bruises covering my body. I couldn't do much about the ones on my face, or how tired my eyes looked, but I could lie. I locked up behind me, walking the familiar path to Ozzie's. I knew he would yell at me, but I didn't really care. All I wanted was a good hug from him. I hoped Butch and Tabitha were ok. But it wasn't safe for them to come back just yet, not until I knew Ivy was finally done with me. I brought my hand up to knock on the door, but it was opened before I could even do so. Y/N stood before me, arms crossed over her chest in that disappointed mom sort of way.

"Well hello, Magnolia."

She quickly pulled me into the mansion, shutting the door behind us. I had to admit, I hated the use of my full name when it came out of her mouth. It felt worse than when Moira used to do it. She guided me to a side room and shut that door two.

"I don't even think I have to explain how mad I am right now." She started.

Her tone was even, calm. Scarily calm.

"Oswald had to call me, screaming his little head off because you went and disappeared off the face of the planet. I had to come back to Gotham, early, mind you, and be yelled at some more. Victor and I, and every other good-for-nothing criminal in this god-forsaken city spent weeks looking for you. YOu know I even checked the narrows, thinking maybe for some reason you were hiding there." She took a deep breath to calm herself.

"I know. I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?"

"I don't know what else you want me to say Y/N." "Where were you?"

She finally rose her voice. It was weird, to hear the genuine care in her tone. Despite her yelling at me, I just felt sad, not sacred like I should have been.

"And don't even think about lying to me."

"Then I won't say anything. I can't say anything. Not now at least. But I'm here, isn't that good enough."

"Is that good enough? What am I supposed to tell Oswald, huh? Even Jim was worried sick about you. The boy hasn't gotten any sleep since the day Oswald came into the GCPD yelling about how you must have been kidnapped or some shit. So I'm going to ask you one more time Magnolia, where were you?"

"Do you really think I don't want to tell you?!" I screamed.

Sure, maybe I should have been a little quieter, considering I didn't need Oswald seeing me like this. And it was never a good idea to raise your voice at Y/N. But I couldn't help it. I was at my wit's end, my self control withering to dust before my eyes. She just stood there, staring at me. But did nothing, said nothing.

"I'm scared ok. To someone like you, that might sound stupid, because you're not afraid of anything. But I don't have ulterior motives when it comes to the people I care about, you being included. I can't tell you anything, not yet. But I can promise you, I'm handling it. And if you see Tabitha and Butch, don't tell them I'm back please." The last part of my sentences sounded so hopelessly desperate. It was pathetic.

She silently pulled me into a hug. One of the crushing ones that spoke all the words for you. When she pulled away she looked at me.

"Just say the word, and you know I'll kill for you, whoever this is-" "I know. But it's not time for that now. We should tell Oswald I'm home. I shouldn't make him wait any longer."

"Good to know you didn't lose all your common sense." She joked.

The walk to the throne room felt impossibly long. But whatever Oswald had to say, I could handle it. I deserved it. Time seemed to stop when he looked up at me.

"Maggie?" He asked.

Ed was with him. This was the first time in a while I'd seen the two of them not at each other's throats. Seem's like a lot changed here in Gotham while I was gone. Edward looked at me like I was a ghost. I didn't like the feeling. had they all assumed I was dead I suppose it wasn't far-fetched, no one could find me, and my phone was off. Three weeks was a long time to go missing in Gotham.

"I know you're mad-" I tried to clear the air, the silence was deafening.

He simply opened up his arms for me, and I ran into them. Even Edward placed a hand on my arm in comfort.

"Are you ok? Are your hurt?" "I'm fine now, promise. Something came up with my brother, out of the city. I broke my phone. Sorry I didn't call, or tell you I was leaving."

Y/N never said I couldn't lie to Oswald. He was easy to lie to, he trusted me far too much. He babied me, and most times it was annoying, but now it worked to my advantage.

"You have a brother?" Edward asked.

"Yeah, older. But he's very secretive, when he told me he was in trouble I didn't think, I just ran. I should have gotten a new phone while I was gone. It was my mistake Oswald really. So please don't be mad. I promise next time my brother is in trouble I'll let you know first."

I gave him the sincerest smile I couldn't muster. Oliver would have my back if I asked him to lie about where I was if it came down to it. Of course, then he'd want to know the real answer, but, that I'd have to deal with if it ever came.

"I'm glad you're safe kid." Edward said.

I cringed back, pulling away from him. I gave him a look like he just killed my dog.

"What?" He asked.

"Don't call me kid like you're not just a few years older than me. How would you feel if I called you Sir?"

"Werided out."

"Exactly." I laughed.

"I hope you know-"

"You're not letting me out of your sight? Yeah, I figured as much. but I'm really tired, can I go up to my room?"

He pulled me in for one more hug before dismissing me. I knew it would be hard to earn back his trust a little. One thing I learned in my time of staying with Oswald was that he felt things very intensely. And he loved fiercely even if it was strictly platonic.

Y/N followed me up to my room, something I'm sure was gonna be a common occurrence for a while. I left the door open behind me, waiting for her to shut it.

"So, you're willing to lie to Oswald. I know damn well your brother didn't need your help."

"He already thought I was dead; it would be cruel to let him think I was still in danger. Besides, with him having you tail me everywhere, I doubt he'll need to know. Oswald is fragile when it comes to things like these."

"So, you're protecting him. How noble of you." "Can you just say what you want to say already? I'm tired of this beating around the bush bull shit. Yell at me again if you need to, I don't care anymore. Just stop bottling up all your feelings lie you're some sort of f robot, that's Vic's job, not yours. Talk to me like I'm a fucking person Y/N! I'm not five."

She sighed, sitting on the dresser in the corner of my room.

"As you know, Victor and I got back together. But the terms are still shaky."

"Ok?"

"But the only reason I gave him a second chance was because you convinced me to. You got me through that, hard time. And I apricated it."

"Are you trying to say thank you?" I asked smugly.

"Not yet, Victor still has a long way to go before I trust him again. So, there's nothing to thank you for. But my point is, him and I were talking. With how reckless the two of us live, were bound to not make it out of one of these missions sometime. Unlike everyone else, I didn't believe you were dead. So, I got Victor to agree, taht if it comes to it, our stuff will go to you. I wouldn't trust anyone else with my shit. And I don't want the cops confiscating my guns."

"Let me get this straight, while I was gone, and everyone assumed I was dead, you and Victor not only get back together, but you wrote out your wills all of a sudden. What happen to your whole invincible mindset?"

"I grew up. And one more thing, there's one other person on that will alongside you. And I would like for you to meet him."

I thought over her words for a second. There was obviously something she wasn't telling me. But I couldn't judge her for that, I'd be a hypocrite.

"I'm hurt." Is said, no inflection in my tone.

She glanced up at me with a confused look on her face.

"That I'm not your only little pet. I mean honestly Y/N, there's someone out there that you care about, apparently just as much as me, and you don't mention his existence until now."

"That's what you're focused on right now?"

"Well, I'd rather not thing about the 'you dying' part of this conversation, so excuse me for being curious about this mystery man."

She rolled her eyes.

"You're not really tired, are you?"

"Oh, trust me, I'm exhausted. But I'm not missing the opportunity to meet this person." I smiled at her.

"Then I'll tell Oswald were going to get some dinner. Some bull about you missing our old hang out spot."

"Oh, so you're willing to lie to Oswald?" I mirrored her earlier statement.

She shot me a glare, and I rolled my eyes. I followed her out of the house, excited, but nervous to meet this new guy. Where the hell had she been hiding him?

Y/N took me to the backroom of the cafe Carmine used to own. She had one of the baristas bring us coffee as we waited. I was rocking back and forth on my heals. Y/N chuckled slightly under her breath.

"Relax, he'll be here soon. He's never late, not when I call him at least. Since when did you get so antsy?"

"Since I'm meeting someone important to you. the last time I did that, I met victor, and he tried to kill me the first time we met, remember?"

"B won't kill you."

B, how interesting. First name initial, last name? Suddenly a boy with the prettiest dirty blonde hair I've ever seen came through the door. His hair was messy, parted to the side and sort of slicked back a little. He looked to be around my age, maybe a little younger. He wore a tan, checkers suit, that was done up in a sort of haphazard way. He somehow managed to look both sharp and lazy at the same time. His eyes were covered by a very expensive pair a sunglass, perhaps he was hung over. But as Y/N said, he wasn't late.

He greeted Y/N first, pulling her into a hug, and kissing each of her cheeks. Not a single word was exchanged between them. Then he turned to me.

"You must be Magnolia, I've heard a lot about you."

I nearly choked on my coffee, that couldn't be good.

"Well, depending on who you've spoken to, I'm wondering if I should be worried. Because I have heard nothing about you, infact Y/N here has neglected to even tell me your name."

I sent her a slight glare. I was beyond embarrassed. Standing next to the both of them, I managed to look severely underdressed. He let out a scoff, and finally removed his sunglasses, clipping the to the hem of his shirt. His eyes were possibly the most piercing blue, I watched as his pupils dilated, adjusting to the new light source.

"Are you just going to stare at me or?" He asked.

I rolled my eyes.

"Still don't have a name pretty boy, I prefer not to converse with total strangers. And I'm not starring, I simply memorizing your features in case you need to be identified someday."

"Oh? And why would that be?"

"Haven't decided yet, line up, body bag, missing person? The options are endless here in Gotham."

Y/N watched us both, a stupid amused smirk on her face as she sipped her coffee. I watched as his eyes raked over me.

"What are you doing?" I glared at him.

"Memorizing your features, dear Magnolia."

I huffed, crossing my arms.

"Touche."

"You can call me Basil. Y/N just calls me B."

Basil, what an odd name.

"How do you like your coffee Basil?" I asked.

He raised a brow at me.

"I don't like American coffee..."

"This isn't an American cafe, but you should know that already."

"Alright children, that's enough. You both can trust each other, so stop with the quizzing. I'll get you a cappuccino B, and I'll refill your late Maggie, behave, both of you."

"Yes ma'am." Basil said.

I gave her a curt nod, telling her I understood.

"So, how long have you known Y/N?" I asked.

"Almost eight months now." "And I've never seen you here in Gotham?"

"I didn't live here, not until last week. She would come to visit me back in National City."

"Ahh, so that's where she randomly disappeared too sometimes. I'm assuming you've met Vic?"

"A few times, yes." "Doesn't sound like you're much of a fan then." "He can be a bit... brash. I don't think he goes about things in the way he should. But, he's fine. He loves Y/N so at least there's that."

I smiled a little at that. He was very similar to me in that way.

"Yeah, Zsasz is a bit much, but you get used to him. He's not used to showing that he cares about anyone but Bubbe, but he does. We'd both be dead otherwise, definitely not in his will." I laughed at how absurd it sounded.

"You're odd, you know that right Magnolia?"

"Maggie, people only call me Magnolia when I'm in trouble, or they want something from me. What is it that you want... Basil?

"I thought I asked the two of you to stop that."

Y/N handed us each our coffee's. I noticed bit of blood on her hand, her knuckles were raw.

"Relax, we're just getting to know each other." "You seem less friendly since your trip." She concluded.

"And you seem to have beat the ever living hit out of someone when you left to get our coffee. Which probably means we should get out of here."

I avoided her accusation. I saw the slight resemblance of a smirk ghost on Basil's face. We heard shouting and gun shots up front. I grabbed his hand, as well as knife from the kitchen counter and we ran out the back door. Y/N followed shortly behind. We hid behind a dumpster in the ally where I knew Y/N stored some spare guns.

"A knife to a gun fight, really?" Basil laughed.

"Yeah, cause mommy dearest over there would trust me with a gun." I joked.

"Children!" Y/N scolded.

"Right, sorry. Who did we piss off this time?"

"They used to work for Fish, when I saw them enter Falcone's Cafe, I just kind of lost it."

"Mooney's goons?" Basil asked.

Y/N gave him a nod. She wasn't one to shy away from a fight, but she was trying to be more cautious now. Now that she had people, she actually cared for. People that have proven time and time again that they could get hurt.

"I'll take care of them. Get her back to Oswald's don't want to hear about another one of his fit's if she doesn't get home. Especially if he finds out you came to see me, he already doesn't like me much."

Why would Oswald not like him? He seemed similar to Edward in some ways. He certainly was hiding something, but now wasn't the time to figure that out.

"No way buddy, you aren't taking them on alone." I scoffed.

"He's a big boy Maggie, he can handle himself. And you're both right, the knife is stupid, and you're not getting a gun until I teach you how to properly shoot. Text me when you're safe B. I've got to go tell Victor Maggie's back home anyways. He won't say it out loud, but he missed her."

I sighed, burying the knife in my boot.

"Fine, but whatever you aren't telling, you're telling me when we get there."

AN: I wanted to make Basil and Maggie's first interaction a little rocky. But they will be like siblings bickering from here on out. He definitely teaches her more self-defense techniques. Which would probably make him the first to learn exactly how much hand to hand combat her actual brother Oliver taught her. I feel like she slowly drops her weak little innocent act, at least around the villains.

[killtheperfectfriends]

who am i?

okay, so honestly i’m not entirely sure WHO I AM, but i can do the basic thing where i share my favorite things to see if anyone else thinks i’m decently interesting enough to strike up a convo.

to keep things honest, i’m super nice but i’m also a dick. there’s no middle ground unfortunately lmfao.

i’m really big into journalism, i want to become a writer one of these days (which probably sounds insane because of my poor grammar, i know. i just don’t take the time to hit the caps lock every few seconds... bear with me). i’m a pretty average kid i think. i don’t do too much out of ordinary. i go to work, come home, hangout, repeat. 

anyway, i guess i’ll start listing shit lmfao:

music:

yea, so, my music is very open.

this is my go-to playlist for most days, it’s mostly nascar aloe than anything else: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2N6vljb4pHKPiupl4xPzGK?si=1cca9f45e7714a21 

this playlist.. i can’t tell if i’m the killer or the victim. but i feel like i’m in a horror movie that’s the only definite thing i know: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1BhkP55x0VWYdjrZ3DvtZX?si=72c36ade78b74134

this playlist makes me feel like life isn’t ALWAYS shitty, i listen to it for cleaning and when i’m at work most the time though: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5dLSqqyir8FozhrFeP0Bv2?si=11abd32821d247a4

shows:

these aren’t really out of orbit with each other TOO much, i watch a lot of the same shit over and over.

i just recently finished YOU, it was definitely one of the best series i’ve seen in a LONG time. 10.10 recommend watching it, ESPECIALLY if you like crime/murder shows. Joe, he’s a mixture of Dexter and Bundy i swear to god.

im STILL waiting for this one, but Stranger Things was another amazing series... so far, i recommend that if you’re into sci-fi, dungeons and dragons, conspiracy theories and the wrong people dying.

a series i could watch millions of times would be Shameless. idk how to describe that show other than by saying it’s fucking AMAZING. 45/10. i’d recommend this for anyone older than like 13, 14 maybe. idk what y’all have been able to see lmfao, i just know there’s a lot of naked. yuck.

another show i could rewatch zillons of times (minus season 10) would be American Horror Story. it’s just too good. 

movies:

lol, okay, so. as hard as this will be for me i’m gonna narrow the list down to 8 of my all time favorite movies.

starting off with:

The Fox and the Hound. this CLASSIC 1981 family movie has brought me so much happiness in my lifetime. copper was of course my favorite because i would easily kill for any animal but a BLOODHOUND?! it’s on sight at that point.

The Outsiders. what could go wrong with the 1983 classic of the Greasers and the Socs? this movie is one of my comfort movies. the casting is amazing, the script, everything. the best part of the entire movie is the bond between Johnny and Dally. they both deserved better.

The Nightmare Before Christmas: this movie, although it is one of my all time favorites is way too overrated. but this 1993 film was what brought my love for Tim Burton. it’s a great movie, for sure. but its not THAT good.

The Harry Potter Series: yes, it’s 89% for draco. these 2000s movies were literally perfect. the casting is wonderful, the scripting, the props, the cgi, all of it was perfect. fred and george deserved better.

The Texas Chainsaw Massacre: wide turn huh? i know. ANYWAY, although there’s a FUCK TON of adaptations done on these movies, my favorite will always be the one made in 2003, idk why. just is.

The Craft: THIS 1996 CLASSIC WILL FOREVER BE TOO GOOD TO BE TRUE. “jealous? jealous! you don’t even EXIST to me!” will probably always live in my head rent free and i’m fine with that. although i loved Skeet playing in SCREAM he fucked with the wrong girl fr this time in this movie.

Labyrinth: this. movie. is. phenomenal. this 1986 classic will always play in the back of my head. david bowie was too good for this world, i can’t think of someone who could’ve played the goblin king better than him. the only downside to this movie are the Fireys. those things are scary ASF. (it’s the red fox lookin things that take their heads off). 

The IT Movies (1986, 2017, 2019): these movies are amazing, tim curry genuinely scared the shit out of me as a kid. 

random bullshit i feel anyone should know about me:

 I DO NOT CARE WHAT YOUR POLITICAL VIEWS ARE. YOU RESPECT ME, I RESPECT YOU.

I DO NOT CARE WHAT YOU IDENTIFY AS. YOU RESPECT ME, I RESPECT YOU. (PLEASE TELL ME SO I DON’T UPSET YOU).

I DO NOT CARE WHAT YOUR SEXUALITY IS. YOU RESPECT ME, I RESPECT YOU.

[anonniemousefics]

Hello! I absolutely adore your writing, especially your writings of kanej! Anyway, I would love to see you write something about jealousy from either kaz or inej, I just think it would be interesting to see your take on it! Obviously you don’t have to, I love your work! You’re a great writer!

❤️ Thank you so much!! This was so sweet to receive, and I’m so sorry it’s taken me so long to get this to you! So, hopefully you’re cool with this, but I decided to apply this idea in a modern AU because I have another request I’m also working on for a modern AU and this felt like an opportunity for some more practice. 😊 (And it just made it more fun for me -- idk, my brain just needed to do something new with these characters to make this work.) 

Samples - Modern AU

Fandom: Six of Crows | Kaz + Inej (ft. all the other Crows)

Word Count: 3,545

Rating: Teen And Up (Language)

“Who did this?”

All of Kaz’s friends were doubling over in laughter around the round hand-me-down table in Kaz and Jesper’s apartment. There were black and white Cards Against Humanity prompts spread across its surface – the most offensive combination of which had Inej, well, and everyone else, in fits.

What made my first kiss so awkward? had been the prompt Inej had drawn.

To which Kaz had submitted the following, randomly-selected card for her consideration – Announcing that I am about to cum. And then kept his poker face locked in place.

“Who did this?” Inej was demanding again, clutching her stomach.

Kaz wasn’t sure why he was hesitating -- something strange was happening while all of this was playing out. Nina had one hand on Inej’s arm while she was fairly screeching with laughter. Inej was slumping against Jesper, like the laugh was shaking her boneless. In fact, everywhere he looked, he was noticing how they were each exchanging these casual, unconscious touches in the midst of their mirth – Matthias turning his face against Nina’s shoulder, Wylan slapping Jesper’s shoulder.

No one was touching Kaz, though – which, that was good, though, right? That was because they were his friends, and they were thoughtful, and they knew all about The Very Sad Thing that had made him the way that he was.

And yet --

Kaz couldn’t find it in himself to laugh. He should be laughing, though, he realized. A normal person would be laughing, given the infectious nature of laughter. And also it was genuinely a really funny card – that’s why he’d played it. But all he could do was force a smile, and that was it.

He suddenly felt like an alien among them.

“Was it you?!” Inej was exclaiming, waving the card at him. Kaz designed what he hoped was a coy smirk for her.

“Are you saying that’s your favorite?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“It was you.” Inej looked appalled, which only made everyone around the table hoot louder. Kaz was still smirking as she threw his winning card back at him with a mischievous, red-faced grin on her face.

“Oh, my God, Brekker.” Nina was wiping the tears off her apple-red cheeks.

“Why does that make it so much worse?” Matthias wondered, since he evidently could never not take a jab at Kaz. He scrubbed his eyes like he needed to wash them out.

And still not a single laugh out of Kaz’s body – this was disturbing. How long had he been this way? And why did he care so much all of a sudden?

“Guys, I’m pretty sure he won,” Wylan was saying, pointing at Kaz’s stack of wins. Had he? Everyone turned to count their cards.

Jesus Christ, he hadn’t even been paying attention to winning? But Kaz loved winning. It was the only reason he tolerated his roommate hosting these raucous game nights – because it meant Kaz could win things. And usually a lot of things. It was especially choice winning things off of Matthias Helvar, Nina’s latest lughead boyfriend she’d met at the gym, who now had to be invited to everything even though he sucked. He was always cuddling close to Nina, putting his arm around her, whispering gross things in her ear that made her giggle insufferably. It was so fucking uncomfortable.

Kaz never acted that way around Inej, and they’d been together for years. Sort of. Not always officially. It really had only been officially lately, but Kaz had always told himself he wasn’t one to need to put labels on things. Inej knewhow he felt – he knew this. (Did he, though?) He definitely knew this. (No, he didn’t.) There was no need to be like Matthias fucking Helvar and canoodle her in front of everyone on game night.

Oh, God. Kaz was suddenly having a realization, right there in the middle of counting his cards.

Oh, God.

He was jealous of Matthias Helvar.

Oh, this sucked.

This really fucking sucked. Kaz thought no one in their right mind should ever be jealous of that big dumb fuck, with his protein shakes and his weirdly popular fitspo Instagram page. The guy looked like he ate nothing but wild-caught salmon and organic broccoli. He wasn’t funny, and he’d say weirdly spiritual shit at socially unacceptable times. He probably spent his weekends doing annoying, on-brand fuckery like being one with nature and brewing his own kombucha, that asshole.

And this was the guy who felt comfortable enough to kiss a girl’s ear in a total stranger’s apartment. (Well, not a total stranger, Kaz would relinquish that – Nina had been dating Matthias for three months.) Matthias Helvar was doing all that nothing with his life, and he wasn’t the least bit self-conscious.

Ugh. Kaz hated that guy. Worse! Kaz wanted to be that guy. Minus the kombucha and the religious stuff. And the gym membership. And probably the protein shakes.

Ok, fine, Kaz was only interested in the PDA. This was so fucking awful.

“What number were we playing to?” he heard himself ask. He wasn’t even paying attention to card counting. He was going to have to start again.

“Can’t count that high, Brekker?” Matthias asked, smirking, and there was always something Kaz took as halfway serious in the way he tried to joke.

“Die in a fire, Helvar,” he said, with a smile that was as good as a middle finger.

“And on that note!” Nina sung out, standing with a hand on Matthias’ shoulder. “It’s almost midnight. I have an eight a.m. class. We gotta call it a night.”

“Matthias drove us,” Inej explained to Kaz’s questioning look at the word “We.”

Inej and Nina were roommates, too, like Kaz and Jesper, but the two girls lived on campus in the dorms at Ketterdam University, where all but Matthias attended. (Fucking Matthias, who was a personal trainer and got money from wellness companies to tout their shit on his Instagram. Ugh.) Wylan, Jesper’s boyfriend, was also living in the dorms this year, after spending his freshmen year commuting from his dad’s enormous house. Wylan had been the one with the car before Kaz had finally scraped together the money for one, but his dad had cut him off over the summer. Kaz didn’t know much about that beyond what little Jesper had told him, which, in summary, was: goodbye, car; hello, dorm life.

“You should have said something – I could have picked you all up,” Kaz said, mostly to Inej, as the others were standing from the table.

Nina reached a tentative hand out to gently touch his shoulder, well-protected by the fabric of his black v-neck.

“Kaz,” she said, gingerly, “we love you, but Matthias has functioning air conditioning.”

Kaz slid his glance toward Inej, who gave a little confirming nod, pressing back her amused smile.

“My thighs don’t stick to the seats in his car,” she explained, softly, which may as well have been a knife to the gut. He loved driving her around in his car. And, to top it off, she was in a pair of really adorable denim cut offs, her legs deeply tan from the summer sun, and he hadn’t even had the nerve to try to touch her exposed knee all night. (Meanwhile, Hands-On Helvar over here had been sitting with his palm all over Nina’s plentiful thighs all night. God, he was so gross. Couldn’t Kaz be just a little bit gross?)

“Are you okay?” Inej was asking. She was stepping a little closer to him away from where everyone else was putting on shoes, preparing to leave. She had her arms wrapped around herself and her loose, purple crop-top, and her long, dark braid was pulled over her shoulder – just mercilessly cute all over. And he hadn’t touched her all night.

“I’m fine,” he replied, but he kept his hands in his jeans pockets. Inej’s dark brows knit together.

“You’d tell me if you weren’t?” she checked. Kaz huffed a laugh – how was he supposed to answer that? Realistically, he should lie.

“Probably not,” he admitted anyway, and gave a shrug. Inej opened her mouth to reply, but Nina called to her from the doorway of the apartment.

“Sorry! Eight a.m. class! She’s going to text you from the car anyway!” Nina was shouting.

“She’s not wrong,” Inej shrugged with a smile. And reached out to barely brush her hand against his spine, like the first attempt at a hug. But Kaz could only bunch up his shoulders, hands stuffed deeper into his pockets. Why was he like this?

There were a few more awkward goodbyes at the doorway, including Matthias’ one-more last-minute sales pitch on the recent CBD-infused green powder drink he was hawking online. (“I’ll bring you some samples next week. They say it’s excellent for chronic pain.” Kaz had flipped him off when his back was turned.)

But then, once they’d all gone and the apartment was quiet, Kaz felt like he was rolling in regret.

“You doing ok?” Jesper asked him, gathering up the empty Solo cups for the trash. Jesper was a really good roommate. They’d been randomly assigned the same dorm room at the beginning of freshmen year, and it just worked. Jesper’s high energy plus Kaz’s insomnia were meant to be. They liked all the same things: strong coffee, getting paid dirty money to write other people’s papers for them, and occasionally clearing the mind by playing Call of Duty all night. They’d moved off campus the following year (a better move for the plagiarism operation), never even really having a conversation about whether or not to room with someone else. It was not even a question, and who else would Kaz even want to room with?

“You’ve seemed off all night,” Jesper was pointing out, and if Kaz had half a brain, he knew he should have been asking Jesper for advice about PDA long before it had reached envying-Matthias-Helvar-levels. Jesper and Wylan were normal in public. When they held hands or hugged or traded kisses, it wasn’t some fucking scene.

But how was he even supposed to bring this up to Jesper?

“Helvar’s such a dillweed,” was all he could find to complain. Jesper snorted.

“He is not that bad,” he said, dumping a stack of Solo cups into the trash.

“He’s the literal worst,” Kaz objected. “I can’t believe he unironically called himself an influencer.” And at that, Jesper pretended to barf into the trashcan.

“Yeah, no, you’re right – that was dumb,” he said. “I commend you for not cutting off your own ears when he did.”

“We are not buying his stupid fucking green juice,” Kaz said, pointing at Jesper to show he meant business.

“Good!” Jesper agreed. “Nina says it gives him the shits.”

And that brought Kaz some comfort. He found he could smirk about it while he loaded up the dishwasher. He was starting it up when his phone buzzed on the counter. He leaned over to read it.

Inej: You seemed sad tonight.

Inej’s contact photo in his phone was one he’d snapped when she wasn’t looking – she was leaning her head back with her eyes closed, taking in the sunshine. It had made her brown skin glimmer and dazzle.

Kaz stared at her text for probably too long. Long enough for Jesper to peer around the corner of the kitchen doorway at him.

“I’m going to bed – everything okay?” he said, and cocked his head. “Is it another last minute job?” Those kinds of jobs – the ones where a student was giving up the night before something massive was due – paid the most, but for good reason. They were absolutely fucking miserable to pull off.

“No,” Kaz shook his head. “Just Inej.”

It was never “just Inej” – and Jesper nodded like he knew that.

“Hey, Kaz,” he said, as he began to leave for his bedroom. Kaz looked up at him sidelong as he mouthed, barely audible: “Tell her what’s wrong.”

“Thank you, Dr. Phil.” Kaz rolled his eyes. And heaved a heavy sigh.

And started typing.

Kaz: I guess I was a little.

Whoa, pressing send on that was unpleasant. He wandered over to his preferred recliner in the living room and flopped back in it. Shoved the footrest up to elevate his bad leg. Ugh. Just ugh to everything and everyone. He looked down at his phone again.

And Inej had been quick to respond.

Inej: You can tell me these things, you know.

Inej: I know I won’t always have the right thing to say, but I want to be there for you.

Inej. Why are you being so perfect so far away?

Why are you wasting your time with a boyfriend who struggles to touch you?

Inej: Are you writing a novel?

He’d been writing and rewriting the same sentence twenty different times. She’d probably been looking at those ominous three bobbing dots for way too long.

Ugh. God. Fine. Kaz drew in a long deep breath, staring up at the ceiling like it could intervene and come to his aid. And then fucking wrote.

Kaz: I wish things were different

Kaz: I wish I wasn’t so fucked

Kaz: I wish I knew how to be a better boyfriend – how to make you blush and laugh and make that one smile that’s like you’re telling secrets with your eyes

He pushed the recliner back as far as it would go. Maybe it would tip and dump him on his head and he’d have to go to the hospital, and that would at least delay Inej inevitably breaking up with him for being this pathetic wet blanket. The phone buzzed again, and he almost didn’t want to look.

Inej: Um, where were you all night? You literally had me doing all those things all night

Huh. That wasn’t how he remembered it.

Kaz: On the opposite side of the table from you

Kaz: Watching basically everyone else be able to touch you but me

Oh, fuck, oh, fuck, oh, fuck. That sounded so petulant, and he’d already pressed send. That sounded so needy and disgusting. Who said that kind of shit? Not even Matthias Helvar said that kind of shit. He wanted to throw his phone across the room. No, out the window. No, out into the sea.

Now he was on the receiving end of the three bobbing dots of doom. Fuuuuck.

Kaz: Can we just forget I said that?

More dots. Then nothing.

Then dots.

Inej: I don’t know. You’re kind of cute when you’re jealous.

At that, Kaz raised his eyebrows.

Kaz: I am not jealous.

Inej: You’re a little jealous

Kaz: No, I feel insufficient.

(Oooof. That was like trying to throw an anvil. Painful.)

Inej: Oh

Kaz was watching the texts come in from beneath his arm now, holding the phone high over his head. Like watching the slasher scenes in a horror movie.

Inej: I mean

Inej: It seems like you’re just splitting hairs here

Inej: Since you must think others are sufficient in ways you are not, so you envy them

…

Kaz: Touche, Ghafa.

And he couldn’t help smiling to himself when Inej sent him a gif of a swashbuckling cartoon Robin Hood brandishing a sword. Then another text bubble appeared.

Inej: You are not insufficient to me, Kaz.

He really wanted to believe that.

Kaz: Even if I’m not hanging all over you and amassing a truly staggering number of Instagram followers with my six-pack abs?

Inej: O.M.G.

Inej: Kaz

Inej: Brekker

Oh, God, what had he done?

Inej: Are you *jealous* of Matthias?

Uggghh, he was going to be sick.

Kaz: Fuck no

Kaz: It was just a hypothetical

Kaz: It was an exaggeration

Kaz: I could do the same thing with any one of our friends

Kaz: And we all know the abs are photoshopped anyway

Inej: OMG

Kaz: What now

Inej: You called Matthias our friend

Kaz wanted to stab himself in the brain.

Inej: I’m gonna tell him

Kaz: Don’t you fucking dare

Inej: I already did

Kaz: What? How? How are you that fast?

Inej: Still in the car

Kaz: ????

There was no reason for that – the dorms were hardly a 10-minute drive. Now Kaz’s brain was assaulting him with a thousand reasons things his girlfriend could still be doing in a car (A nice car! With working air conditioning!) with a personal trainer/amateur Instagram model, and none of them were pleasant or welcome thoughts. The phone buzzed again.

Inej: I asked him to bring me back to you. :)

At that, Kaz straightened the recliner, rising to his feet as fast as his stiff leg would allow.

Kaz: You did? And he did? Why?

He was limping toward the front door.

Inej: Because he’s not terrible, Kaz. And because I guess I missed your car after all ;)

Jesper and Kaz’s apartment was the third floor of a wonky old Victorian home that had once been something grand and only recently had been split into three different abodes – which was definitely the worst decision the two of them had made as roommates. Kaz was leaning hard against the railing as he took to the steps when the front door of the building banged shut below. And then there on the landing below was Inej, wearing a sheepish smile in the yellow, buzzing fluorescence of the hall light. She was holding her phone in one hand, her tan leather purse slung across her slim body.

“I thought you looked like you could use a hug,” she said, as she pocketed her phone.

Kaz took the last two stairs carefully, coming to stand in front of her. She smelled like vanilla and coconut oil – like something he wanted to wake up to every morning.

“You came all the way back for a hug,” he wanted to clarify. His hands – he should do something with his hands. What would Matthias do with his hands?

No. What do I want to do with my hands?

So, he looped a couple fingers through her belt loops. Tugged her a little closer. And she smiled.

“Technically,” she said, “Matthias came all the way back so I could bring you some samples.” She patted her purse, which did look a little bulkier. “They were in his car the whole time.”

“Mmmm.” He pretended to look tantalized. “Hot car samples. Delicious.”

Inej was twisting her fingers in the t-shirt fabric at the crest of his hips. Tugging him a little closer, too. God, it was so good. She’d been so right. He had wanted a hug.

“I know that’s how I want my protein powder,” she teased. “Piping hot, right out of the oven.”

“Just how Ma used to make it,” Kaz added, with a good bit of feigned nostalgia. Inej blurted out a laugh, tipping forward until her forehead bumped his sternum.

At that first brush, it was like his hands knew what to do from there. They slipped around her waist while her hands slid around his. And she pressed her cheek against his chest while he held her close.

“You are not insufficient,” Inej said against him.

“I would really like to pretend that never happened,” he said with a sigh, resting his chin on top of her head.

“Too late,” she hummed, happily, and gave him a light squeeze. He smiled against her hair.

“You know I wouldn’t want you to be like Matthias, right?” she asked.

“You shouldn’t even want Matthias to be like Matthias,” Kaz grumbled.

“Hey,” and Inej pulled back to look up at him with her big, soft brown eyes. “I mean it. I just want you to be you. I don’t want all the handsy stuff. That’s what Nina likes. I just like you.”

Kaz carefully pushed back a few strands of her hair from her forehead.

“Not even a little handsy stuff?” he checked, which made Inej give her coy little smirk, his very favorite.

“Maybe a little handsy stuff,” she said.

If there were ever going to be a time to kiss her, it would be now. But when he thought it, Kaz felt his heart make an enormous leap into his throat, seizing in panic. If he touched her mouth with his, if he closed his eyes and felt her face so close to his, would he just end up floundering in The Very Sad Thing again? What if it happened while he was kissing her? Would every kiss after that be tainted? Could he risk it – could he ever?

So, he didn’t move to meet her lips. He let his hands fall to the small of her back, though, and kept her close for another moment. Like a sample of physical affection, and she seemed okay with that. He would will himself to believe it was not insufficient.

“Drive me home?” she asked after a moment, with a kind of sweet, eager anticipation that made Kaz believe in magic. He nodded, of course.

“I’ll go up and get my keys,” he said. “And you throw away those samples.”

Inej laughed, following him up.

“Deal,” she said.

-----------------------------------

Tagging: @annejulianneh111, @loveyatopluto, @ireallyshouldsleeprn, @whosanxiety, @raging-bisexual-alert,

[thatiranianphantom]

I've read your take on the new season. I do believe that Betty and Jughead will eventually be back together, but it seems it will take a while. B*rchie will be explored and Jughead will apparently date Tabitha. Do you think the writers could wait until the end of the season to reunite Bughead?

Thank you for sending me this! I purposely left it till the end because this may get long. 

I made that post awhile ago, and I am still basically sticking to it, but some small things have changed. First of all, when did we hear that Jughead will date Tabitha? You may be right but I’d also be skeptical. Jughead’s romantic plate is a bit full. Actually, his plate, in general, is quite full with the season’s mystery and both Betty and Jessica. We know Riverdale doesn’t delegate well, and it doesn’t stop to take a breath in between plotlines. This has been accused of being the Jughead Jones show, but the reality is we can’t spend the entire time on Jughead and he's already quite busy. 

As to where the season will go, my guess is the following, accompanied by gifs from Dr. Horrible:

☞ The first episode, it has been said, is not bughead-heavy. The bed scene isn’t in this episode and it features very little prom. Likely, what happens here is Veronica sings Archie’s song and she finds out about the kiss. 

☞ In 5x02 and 5x03, they reveal the (*deep sigh*) auteur. It’s likely Charles and/or Chic, because Wyatt Nash’s last filmed episodes were these two. Likely, Jughead finds out here, and it is where the bed scene occurs. This is also when Bret comes back and I am hype. I literally cannot wait to see him stare longingly at Jughead again. I want to see the shrine to Jughead we all know Bret has, or the lock of Jughead’s hair that Bret strokes lovingly every night. Sean Depner, the love of my life, would agree with this. FP leaves in this episode, and what I’m getting is that he has carte blanche to come back, and he and Alice will probably not break up. Best for everyone. Can’t imagine Skeet’s phone is ringing off the hook. My money, frankly, is on Varchie breaking up here, but Bughead staying together. They will time jump at the end after graduation, so you’ll likely see a few minutes at the end of 5x03 that take place after the time jump. Long-ponytail Betty is likely from here, and we will see Jughead with someone who is *gasp* not Betty. 

☞ I would guess that 5x04 is all setup. They will introduce us to where the Core 4 are seven years later. Jughead’s (ex?) girlfriend, Veronica’s husband, Archie in the army, Betty working for the FBI. Exposition all over the place. TBF, I am oddly excited for this episode. I want to see adult Core 4. I think, despite how fast Riverdale moves through things, setup is needed here. They’re putting the show in a completely different place. That needs some time. Jughead is apparently an alcoholic now? Awesome. I am sure they’ll handle that with all the sensitivity they do everything with. 

They’d be called back to Riverdale (maybe Jughead and Toni are still there?) at the end of this episode. I swear to god Riverdale, if you tell me that any of these kids didn’t graduate, I will finally take this shitshow out of your hands. We may see the Core 4 reunite at the end of this episode. We’ll also see that Toni is pregnant now. My bet’s on surrogacy. You guys ever watched Hamilton? Remember “...and Peggy?” Well, “...and Kevin!” 

☞ Actual reunions start in 5x05. It’ll likely be super awkward. I’ve said it before, I hope there’s not actual anger. It’s been seven years. I get being hurt, I get it being awkward, but it’s been nigh on a decade, so I hope there’s not active anger, since that’s childish as hell. If speculation is right, though, Betty will spend time with both Jughead (case) and Archie (we’ll get there.) We can expect pining. I love pining. Longing looks? Bring it on. We got so few scenes before Bughead got together, and I thrive off the auto shop scene in 5x06. It’s so angsty. I die. Anyway, this is when we introduce the new Biggie Baddie. Mothmen, apparently. This is our first villain that is not an organic Riverdale villain. I miss villains like Buffy wrote them, but god, I sat through some S2 Evil-Hiram plotline and it made me long for stupid shit like mothmen because that plot was boring. 

☞  Look, I ain’t going to lie to you. I have no idea how they’ll tie in the mothmen plotline since like, mothmen don’t murder? But we all know that’s just secondary to the romantic stuff. I’m going to reiterate that regardless of how this shakes out, I could not be less interested in a full season of drama. However, in 5x06/5x07, we’ll likely see some Barchie. If there is sad!Dating, it’ll likely happen here, paired with some Bughead angst. Spoilers also tell us that Chad comes to Riverdale and is jealous of Varchie’s “friendship?” That requires at least a few scenes of them together, so we’ll likely see Varchie pining too. 

☞ I’m going to go out on a limb and say they’d probably currently be filming episodes 8 and 9. Chad is already there, as is Tabitha. The recent casting spoilers that came out will probably be in this episode, up to episode 10. I am going to say it’s likely that this’ll be about mid-season, which means the explosive action for the couples will probably happen here. Most indications of people I’ve spoken to say the couples will likely be back by mid-season(ish). So by the time the casting spoilers role is in the show, Barchie will be on its way out. This seems very mid-seasony to me. It’s usually right before a break and it entices people to come back for the back 9. So around episodes 8-10, expect rising action. 

☞ I very much doubt that Barchie will last past episode 12. The back 9 of the season will be pretty standard Riverdale fare - mystery and couple drama, but likely nothing as dramatic as the end of S4 or beginning of S5. As I said, Riverdale doesn’t delegate well. They do not breathe between plotlines. They grab the bit between their teeth and run. 

☞ Few stray observations: Veronica is married, and still tied to her family. That’s not as easy to leave behind as a short-term relationship. I would say I wonder how they’re going to get her out of that, but like, it’s Riverdale. Do also wonder if they’re going to forget about the alcoholism plotline. I would like to link the writer’s to the TVTropes page on Chekhov’s Gun. If it’s not essential, Riverdale, don’t include it. Also a bit curious to see how Choni reunite, since they inevitably will. And how they’ll write the baby out. 

(this is a wonderful interpretation of my relationship with this show. The show is Captain Hammer. I am Dr. Horrible.) 

[docholligay]

Do you have a favorite line of of lyrics from a song? If so, what is it and why?

This is really hard for me because I think there are some really beautiful song lyrics peppered throughout the course of history, and I know I will forget someone and it will KILL ME. THANK YOU FOR NOT ASKING ABOUT BOOK LINES WE’D BE HERE ALL FUCKING DAY. 

But here are some off the top of my head. This doesn’t include songs that are all-around impactful, this includes just lyrics where the individual line makes me SCREAM. 

The heart of a king who loves everything like the hammer loves the nail.---Anais Mitchell, Epic (part II) (I think it’s Epic (part III) in the musical itself) 

I’ve literally made standalone posts about about this lyric. I think about it all the time. It describes so perfectly that WAY of loving something, that WAY of being in the world, and it puts it so simply and succinctly and I am JEALOUS of this line in the way that a writer can only be when realizing they DIDN’T write something that perfect. 

And the sidewalk holds diamonds like a jewelry-store case--Bright Eyes, Land Locked Blues

I think I actually have stolen this line, oops. I will attempt very sincerely not to just include Bright eyes lines, as I think he’s one of the better standalone modern poets, but I had to include this one because who HASN’T Looked at a sidewalk in the light and SEEN that? This whole song is gorgeous actually but here we are, this line sticks with me. 

You said, I am as constant as the Northern star/and I said, constantly in the darkness, where’s that at, if you want me I’ll be in the bar. ---Joni Mitchell, A Case of You 

GOD. I think this is one of the earliest lyrics where I was like, “I think I found what I like in music, and it’s poetry” Lyrics MATTER to me, a great deal more than I think they do to some, and this reaches into the far back of my mind to 14 year old me getting my shit rocked. 

I count the days in cups of wine and candles I have burned--Dave Carter and Tracey Grammer--Sweet Kate and the Ghost of Lost Love

This is another one of those where the idea of it provides such a clear mental picture without saying very much at all, this idea of loss and that sort of lingering loss of time. 

Love is not a victory march, it’s a cold and it’s a broken hallelujah--Leonard Cohen, Hallelujah 

I almost didn’t include this one because it’s so basic bitch, and because it’s been covered by so many people, and because there’s so many deeper Cohen cuts I could have picked--he’s an exceptional poet, you want to read a modern Song of Songs read DAnce Me to The End of Love, you want an exceptional amount of anger and confusion toward God read You Want it Darker--but I wanted to be truthful, and the truth of it is that this line is a fucking banger and speaks to a side of love often not shown in songs. 

It’s like just before dark, jump in the car, buying ice cream and see how far we can ride before it melts sometime/that’s how your love makes me feel inside/there’s a cow on the road and your swerve to the left, fate skips a beat and it scares you to death, and you laugh until you cry, that’s how your love makes me feel inside---Diamond Rio, How Your Love Makes Me Feel

The best part about this song is it opens by saying “I’m no poet, and I know it” and then breaks down the sickening beautiful feeling of early love with this very country and very grounded description of the whole thing. I love the playfulness of this song and specifically this lyric so much 

Life’s a dance you learn as you go, sometimes you lead, sometimes you follow--John Michael Montgomery, Life’s a Dance

I think about this all the time whenever life is confusing or hard. The song itself is enjoyable but not even that great, but this lyric specifically really speaks to the way we don’t have a choice except to live through our experiences and the very simple way i feel about it. 

There’s no mercy in a live wire, no rest at all in freedom--The (formerly known as Dixie) Chicks, Let Him Fly

I’ve talked some about that sort of Stray Dog Freedom (ironically, also a title of another Bright Eyes song) and this encapsulates that feeling for me. That feeling of how being let go, and going free, and answering to no one, has it’s own price. 

She put that bottle to her head, and pulled the trigger--Braid Paisley and Alison Krauss, Whiskey Lullaby

FUCK. This was one of those lyrics I heard (loving a sad story-song like I love few other things) and just screamed immediately. I feel like I’m repeating a theme, but maybe I’m just winnowing down what it is I love--something that perfectly explains a complex happening, in a single moment. I love Alison Krauss anyway, but this duet in general is so good even outside of this line. 

OKAY I HAVE BEEN WORKING ON THIS FAR TOO LONG AND I WILL MOVE ON 

[dolce-peach]

Hello there! Love ur blog btw! Could u write a Tom Hiddleston x actress!reader where reader is an Loki fanfic writer and also a big Hiddlestoner in secret and she’s Tom costar and he finds out.

the unexpected

pairing: tom hiddleston x reader

warnings: fluff and a bit of tension 👀 *cough cough*

a/n: look at the gif.  look at it.  please protect this man.  also i hope you guys like this! ❤️

permanent taglist: @kaitlynmalikisnotonfire​ @just-another-loki-fanblog​

** TO MAKE A REQUEST -- please check the status in my bio **

masterlist

----

“We have time for a couple more questions,” your publicist said to the interviewer.

You smiled as he prepared his last questions, your hands folded neatly in your lap.

He finally looked up.  “So I hear you’re in the process of shooting a movie with Tom Hiddleston.  What’s that been like for you in terms of workload?”

You lightly sighed as you averted your eyes, trying to find the right words.  “Tom’s been quite amazing to work with.  He’s become a really good friend, helping lighten the burden I had with two movies to work on.  I love him so much.  He’s quite the charming guy,” you explained.  “I’m really excited to see how this turns out!”

“I’m sure your fans are as well,” the interviewer said.  “They’ve been waiting for this collaboration for a while.”

“Yeah, pre-production certainly took a while, but I’m glad that project finally took off.”

The interviewer smiled.  “Okay, we’re nearing the end of our time together, but I wanted to ask a lighthearted question to send you off.”

“Go for it.”

“Your fans often see you writing on set,” he began.  “They’ve been tweeting at me to ask you what you write.”

“Ah,” you said before laughing.  “Unfortunately it’s nothing of interest.  I just write whatever comes to mind.  It sometimes helps me get in the moment before acting out a scene.”

The interviewer closed his notebook.  “Y/N, it’s been a pleasure.”

You smiled.  “Likewise.”

You exited the room, your publicist trailing behind you.

You couldn’t deny the fact that your heart was beating fast against your ribcage.  It wasn’t necessarily the interview that threw you off but rather the last question.  You felt as though your cover was blown, as if you were caught doing what you weren’t supposed to do.

And it definitely wasn’t easy.

Being a fanfiction writer.

You kept your eyes on the ground in front of you as you walked back to the car, where you’d be driven back to set for the day.

You stared out the window and watched the buildings go by.  You were sure this day of shooting was also going to be emotional and exhausting, but that was why you loved it.

When you got back to set, you were immediately rushed to your trailer, where you got into your hair and makeup for the day.  You looked fondly at your reflection in the mirror.  

You were styled in a voluminous period dress, and your head was secured with multiple hairpieces.  

“You look lovely, darling.”

You quickly whirled around to see Tom poking his head into your trailer.  A sigh of relief escaped you as you put your hands on your hips, looking almost like a mother scolding a child.  “Christ, Tom, I could’ve been naked!”

“But you’re not,” he mused, raising an eyebrow.  “Either way, you’d still look lovely.”

“Stop!” you laughed.  “You can’t say things like that!”

He shrugged.  “Just trying to get into character,” he said.  “I mean, you are my wife.”

“Wife-to-be,” you corrected him.  “All while you’re pining after other women.”

“Oh, is my wife jealous?” he teased.

“Very,” you scoffed.

He smiled as he reached his hand out.  “Anyhow, I came to bring you to set.  They’re ready for us.”

You took his hand, and he helped you out of your trailer.  You gathered your skirt and walked beside him, when you noticed you were wearing the wrong shoes.

“Shit, my shoes,” you murmured.

“I’ll get them,” Tom said, immediately jogging back to your trailer.

You smiled at his retreating figure.  He really was a gentleman.

--

“How could you do this to me?” you said, your voice trembling.  “I never liked the idea of an arranged marriage, but I thought you’d at least like me.”

Tom turned, half of his face lit by the fireplace of the dark room.  “You’re sorely mistaken.”  His voice was low.

Tears streamed down your face.  “So after all this time, you were luring me in,” you said.  “What did you want?  My money?  My name?  My body?”

His eyes caught yours, and you felt your heart beginning to pound.  

“Your money?  You could scarcely afford this place, even if you wanted to.  It would put you in chains,” he started.  “Your name’s already been tainted by your poor bastard of a father, and your body...”  He took a moment to eye you up and down.  “Your body could not satisfy even the worst of men.”

You took a step back, gripping your skirt.  “You don’t mean that.”

“Every word.”

You shook your head, your mouth agape.  “You’re a monster.”

You began to storm out of the room when he caught your arm, shoving you roughly into the wall.  Your shivering figure was trapped between his arms.  You could barely conjure the courage to look at him.

“I wasn’t finished,” he growled.

“Then finish,” you whispered.  “Break my heart, and do it quickly.”

His deep eyes pierced you.  “Listen carefully.  Your money matters not because I will take care of you,” he said.  “Your name will be my name, and you will proudly proclaim it to whoever you please.”  

He leaned forward to rest his forehead on yours.  You could feel his soft warm breath on your lips.

“And when I say that your body could not satisfy even the worst of men, it’s because it never will,” he said.  “You are mine, and I am yours.”

You shook your head, confused.  “Why are you saying this?”

Without another word, he closed the gap between you two, pressing his lips roughly into yours.  You could feel the hot air begin to swirl around you, making you yearn for more.  You gasped with surprise as he broke off the kiss, trailing more down your jaw and neck.

When your eyes met again, you fought all urges to kiss him again until the last second, when your body moved on impulse.  You cupped his jaw until you ran your hands through his long locks.  

You pulled back, gazing into his eyes lit by the fire.  You traced his small smile with your fingers.

“And...cut!”

It took you a moment to break out of your trance.  You smiled as Tom handed you some water.

“Awesome,” the director said.  “We’ll take a break, so feel free to roam about the area, but don’t wander far.”

You found yourself walking outside, shivering in the cold night air.  You glanced behind you at the estate the crew managed to reserve and wondered how someone could’ve lived in such a grand place.

You felt a jacket being draped over your shoulders and noticed Tom standing next to you.  You flashed him a smile before looking away, your lips still hot.

“Were you scared?” he asked.

You furrowed your brow.  “Why?”

“You were shaking like a leaf,” he chuckled.  “I just wanted to make sure I didn’t scar you for life.”

You laughed.  “You don’t have to worry.  It was great.”

He looked out at the extensive lawn.  “Sorry if I took the kiss too far.”

You could feel a flame running down your jaw and neck.  

You quickly shook your head.  “It’s fine!  You were in the moment.”  You shuffled your feet in the gravel.  

“I imagine that’s probably going to go into a piece of your fanfiction,” he said.

“Yeah, definitely --”  Your eyes widened.  “Wait, what?”

He looked unbothered.  “You write fanfiction.  Yes?”

“Oh, God,” you breathed.  “How’d you find out?”

“I was wondering what you were smiling about so intently during break one day,” he chuckled.  

You covered your face.  “This isn’t what I was expecting.”

“Sorry,” he said.  “Does it help to say I’m a fan?”

“A bit of both,” you said.  “I never thought you’d actually read them.  It just started out of the blue because I’m a big fan of the MCU, but I never thought this would happen --”

“Hey,” Tom said, taking your hands.  “I think it’s great.”

You bit your lip.  “Really?”

“Yes, really.”

You were speechless as he held your hands.  

“Tom!  Y/N!  We start in five!” the director called from inside.

Tom squeezed your hand gently.  “Come on, darling.”

You let him lead you back inside, your mind still in a haze.  You weren’t able to process the fact that you were being led to the bedroom, where some of the crew was waiting.

You felt Tom glancing at you, then your face went red.

“Oh, shit.”

“You’ll be fine.”

“Action!”

[revisionaryhistory]

Three Days ~ 65

~*~Sebastian~*~

I turned back toward the others. Sam was looking at me, "You're hopeless."

I looked around, hoping she was looking at someone else, "What? Why?"

"Three weeks ago with the good luck kisses and Reese Cups you were ridiculous. This week... hopeless. You're a big soft squishy marshmallow of a boyfriend. I expected more."

I went for a confused look, "Do we know each other well enough for you to ride my ass like this?"

She smiled, "Apparently."

I held up a finger in Scott's direction before he could say anything. Everyone laughed.

We talked, laughed, and drank until the ref blew the whistle. Like earlier I was between Sam and Mallory. Sam leaned closer, "Too far?"

I knew she was referring to her teasing after Emma left. "Oh hell no, perfect." I sat back enough to include Mallory. "Thank you. I'm much more comfortable in front of five hundred people than in a small group. Expectations are different. You fucking with me lets new people know I’m just a guy here to watch his girlfriend play volleyball."

Sam looked at Mallory, "See, hopeless."

Mallory smiled, "Yeah, but cute as hell."

“Am I imagining the southern accent? It comes and goes.” I looked between the two of them and they indicated I wasn’t imagining. “Southern accents are trouble.” I shook my head, took a drink of my beer, and watched them win the first set.

Emma ran over, "Hungry. Would you order me something, please?"

I gave her a thumbs up and I had plates of appetizers ready when they got to the table. After losing. I slid off the stool, giving it to Emma, standing behind and to the side. I reached around her to eat while my other hand kept in contact with her. Touching her back. A slide across her shoulders. Anything for the contact. When Emma was finished eating, she leaned back, using me as a backrest. I leaned in and kissed her temple, my hidden hand on her hip.

I can't explain my want for contact. Before we met, before I saw her, before I heard her voice, I knew the feel of her touch. Her hand on my arm. Since that first touch, I've always wanted it. Maybe it's because touch was the first thing I knew. Like if the first thing you're attracted to is someone's smile you always remember the first one and want to see it again. I've never been touch hungry like this. I don't mind, kind of like it actually, and I'm not all in trying to overthink the why. It's just different. Hopefully, the relationship outcome will be different too.

Mallory's voice saying, "Barbie Bitches at ten o'clock," drew me out of my thoughts.

Emma said, "They're really not that bad."

Mallory snorted, "Yes, yes, they are."

There was a group of five heading our way. Three women and two men. I'm going to go ahead and guess the bleached blondes are the Barbie Bitches. There is a natural blonde in the group, so I could be wrong. The men were lagging a little behind. The one with short black hair had a full beard and the other had shoulder-length brown hair with a couple of days growth of beard. I don't feel jealous or insecure, but I am aware these are men she knows. Possessive. Protective. Proud. Definitely wanting to mark my territory, I guess her using me as a pillow does that. If she sits up I may have to kiss her. Tragic.

One of the guys recognized me first. He elbowed the other and nodded. I went on talking with Nick about the best flavors for chicken wings. I’m partial to teriyaki. Hot sauces aren't for me. I like flavor over burning the shit out of my mouth.

The five reached the table, hugs and handshakes for those nearby. Emma leaned forward and the hand I had on her hip magically moved to her shoulder when other eyes locked on me. Beside me, I heard Sam mumble, "Hopeless."

I looked at Sam and laughed, giving her a silent thank you. I realize someone in my line of work not liking to be the center of attention seems strange. Work and personal are different. Meeting her friends is personal, but the first minutes when they're recognizing work me is uncomfortable. I wish it wasn't. I don't like it.

Emma did the introductions, "This is my boyfriend Sebastian." I do like how she gives me a title. It feels like a diversion, setting an expectation. There's no question who I am. I'm not Sebastian with a dangling "the actor."  I’m Sebastian "the boyfriend." That makes me uncomfortable too but in a much more fun way. She pointed as she gave names. "Justin, Caleb, Rose, Tammy, and Toni."

There was no way in hell Toni and Tammy weren't the Barbie Bitches. I was right about the hair too. I waved, "Hi, nice to meet you. Everybody work with Emma? Teachers?"

They told me what they taught. Toni and Tammy are English, Rose is Physics, Caleb is History, and Justin teaches programming and robotics. I looked at Rose, "I got a zero on my physics final." They laughed and I shrugged. "In my defense, of the eight seniors, the highest grade was a fifteen."

"You had a shitty teacher."

I widened my eyes and nodded in agreement, “Yeah, he gave us shit about the scores. I told him they said more about him than us. Finals were over, I didn't care."

Everyone started sharing stories from being a student or things students had done. Turned into a competition between the high school and elementary teachers for the most inappropriate comments and behaviors. High school was funny because they knew what they were doing, elementary because they didn't. I felt embarrassed for the mom who got the call her vibrator had made it to show and tell.

The game going on behind us was in the last set. Emma took off for the bathroom. When she came back, she went to the middle of the high school teachers, thanking them for coming. She was a good hostess.

Toni glanced at me before turning to Emma, "Are we really supposed to pretend he's not Sebastian Stan?"

Several things happened all at once. On one side of me, Samantha said, "Yes." On the other side, Mallory groaned. In front of me to the right, Tammy nodded her agreement with Toni. A little to the left, Emma said, "No."

Guess who I want to hear more from?

"You don't have to pretend you don't know who he is. But first and foremost, he's a person, so we're not going to talk about him like he's not right there." Emma looked at me with a smile. I was uncomfortable again. However, her protectiveness is hot.

Tami grimaced, "Sorry."

Emma hugged her to soothe the rebuke, "He scrambles my brain sometimes too."

I want to scramble more than her brains right now.

Tami looked at me as Emma headed around the table. "I'm sorry, Sebastian."

I waved away the apology, "You can ask me anything you want about work when they're warming up. The rest of the time I'm here to watch my girlfriend play."

It was Justin who did the fist pump, "Yes!"

I laughed.

Caleb faked a cough, "Fanboy."

"And not ashamed."

I had a fan. Sweet.

I'd taken Emma's seat when she left. When I started to get up she shook her head. She stood right up on me, laying her hand on my thigh. I lifted my arm over her, my hand landing on her ass, and my fingers going under the leg of her shorts to run my fingertips along the curve of her ass. My other hand, which was already under the table, moved her hand from my thigh to my crotch. I never stopped talking with Dawn. Beside me, Sam turned her back to me and leaned against the table, blocking anyone else from seeing. She’s definitely my favorite.

I was torn when the other game was over. I would miss our under the table fun, but the sooner the game was over the sooner we could go home.

Jeff walked around the table, heading toward the court. He pointed at me, "Your last good luck kiss sucked. Do better."

I jumped off the stool, grabbed Emma, dipped her low, and kissed her slow and deep. It felt very good. Reluctantly, I set her back on her feet. I looked at Jeff with my eyebrows raised.

Jeff grabbed Emma's arm and pulled her toward the court. "Much better. Thank you."

I turned back to the table to find all eyes on me. I shrugged with my hands up, "Taking one for the team." I took my spot back on the stool.

Justin leaned onto the table, "I have questions about stunts and drone shots." That conversation went on for a while. I could talk all day about that shit because it’s not directly me.

Toni wanted to know about Evans. Nia asked about gossip sites.

"I don't go there. Anybody can pretend to know anything and people will believe it if they want to. Even random guesses are going to be right sometimes. A friend had something real show up. It's best to ignore it. It'll go away with the next scandal. A lawsuit confirms and calls more attention." I could tell Rose had a question, "Go ahead."

She smiled, "Fanfiction."

I returned the smile, "What about it?"

"Love it? Hate it? Any favorites?"

I finished the last of my beer, considering how honest to be. I went all in. "I'm human. I got curious. For about a week. It doesn’t bother me. If a character I brought to life feeds someone's creativity I’m flattered. There are good stories and good writers out there. One of those could write a script, hell, for all we know someone who won an Oscar used to write fanfic."

"Real person stuff?"

I bobbed my head back and forth while looking at Dawn. "Still fiction and no more me than Bucky is. The imagination and amount of time spent on me is still flattering. All that's a step away. Now, the thirst tweets. Those are the things I wonder if people realize I see that. Fanfic is about an imagined version of me. Tweets and comments on Instagram are directed to me."

Caleb jumped in, "I bet you get the same things live at photo ops and shit though."

I nodded, "Some people lack boundaries."

Cindy said, "You looked uncomfortable reading those thirst tweets."

"Sort of." I laughed, "I wasn't embarrassed by content, just reading them out loud."

There were a few more questions before the whistle blew for the start of the game. I said, "Boyfriend time" and turned around.

It was another nail biter of a game. They lost the second set. All of us were screaming and clapping. It was a lot of fun. I liked this, being the spectator while hanging with her friends. I’ve always liked going to things and being the support person for friends. Fuck knows I’ve asked that from them enough. What I didn’t like was that this place didn't have Reese cups and the deck was too high for a between set kiss. Piece of shit dive bar.

They won the final set with a rejected spike by Becky and Nick. The team jumped in the air and hugged. So did Sam, Mallory, Scott, and I. I moved out of the middle to get to her first. In my head, I could hear Sam calling me hopeless.

I walked toward the opening to the court and met them, handing out words of praise. Emma stepped onto the deck and crossed the short distance into my arms. I kissed her head, "You did good."

"Thank you." She left my arms, kissed me, and took my hand. "It was a fun game. And I didn’t hurt myself."

We headed back to the table talking about plays and laughing. Emma sat down and pulled a beer from the bucket. I leaned my elbows on the counter behind me between Emma and Mallory, stretching out my back to reverse the hunching over during the game. I watched her profile as she talked with her friends. I could stand here looking at her all night. It didn't take long before I saw her energy drain away. Her smile shrank and her eyes lost their sparkle. I stood up, tucked a piece of hair that had escaped her ponytail, behind her ear, and waited until she turned her head like I knew she would. "You're tired." Not a question. She nodded. I turned to Mallory, "You ready?"

"Anytime."

I put Emma's bag on my shoulder. Emma stood up, "We're heading out."

Several other people said they were too. It wasn't late, but it was a weeknight.

I waited while they hugged their goodbyes. Mallory was back to me first. I slung my arm around her shoulder, "She's like a hostess saying good night to her guests."

Emma heard me and smiled. She joined us and I put my arm around her too. "Nice to meet everybody. I’m sure we'll do this again. Have a good night."

The three of us walked around the building to the CRV. I put in the code, opening the passenger and rear door, closing it behind them. I could see Mallory put a hand on Emma's arm and while I could tell they were talking I couldn't hear them. I walked a little slower around to the driver's side.

They didn't stop when I got in. Mallory was telling Emma about the questions during warm-up. When I turned to back out, Emma looked at me, "I'm sorry you were uncomfortable."

I smiled, "It was fine."

Emma's hand went to the back of neck, "I don't like you being uncomfortable. My friends making you feel that way."

"I don't enjoy it either, but it's part of being with you. You get my fans and a lot of other bullshit. I get your friends. I got less uncomfortable as they got used to me." I took her hand from my neck, kissing it before laying our joined hands on my leg. "I did like you going protective. You handled it well."

Emma barked a short laugh, "I wasn't ok with them objectifying you."

Mallory added, "I call them Barbie Bitches for a reason."

I laughed, “I’ve survived worse.”  Emma leaned over and kissed my cheek. “See, all worth it.”

“Emma, you know they’ve sent out shit. Your room is going to be Grand Central tomorrow.”

Emma sighed. I thought to say something but wanted to hear from her first. I wasn’t surprised by her response. “You can stay at home if you want.”

“Without you?”

“Yeah, I have to get packed up but you don’t have to go.”

“Nope.” It was never an option. “What sort of an asshole would I be if I’m not willing to deal with your co-workers dropping by your classroom. I promise you what you’re going to have to deal with will be much worse.”

“I get that, but to be fair, there’s not been much fall out from your fans.”

From the back seat I heard, “There will be. Probably is, but you don’t have an online presence to know.”

I nodded backward, “What she said.”

“I don’t know how your fans react to girlfriends, but I was a huge One Direction fan. Fans were brutal to their girlfriends. One released a cookbook and they left shitty reviews bringing her rating down on Amazon. Death threats to one if they broke his heart. They went all the way back in their social media and dug up shit. Hopefully, your fans are older.”

“Not always.” I guess this is when we’re going to talk about this. Maybe having a friend who’d been a fan would be helpful. “I won’t say fans cause breakups, but they don’t help. It’s complicated. There’s more nice than ugly, but a lot of time the ugly is really ugly.  Like you said, trashing her career, her cookbook because of who she’s dating. Girlfriends don’t always react well. Friends don’t always react well. The men, me, don’t always react well. I’m good at hiding when I don’t want to be seen, but I don’t understand people who can hide whole relationships for years. Hell, we’ve already been spotted having lunch. Two weeks in. I don’t know what the right answer is, because I haven’t found it.”

Emma jumped in,  "On the plane home I went looking around. There is a blog with all your relationships. Chronologically."

I'm sure I looked horrified. Because I was. "I don't want to know that. I don't want you to know that."

Emma grimaced and shook her head. "I didn't read any relationship stuff. I'd have to give you my high school and college diaries to equalize the invasiveness." She faked a shudder and Mallory laughed. Emma continued, "I was looking for fan reaction. There were links to Instagram posts, Twitter threads, and other blog posts. They have lots of opinions."

"Yeah, I know."

"You can't win." She pointed at herself, "Neither can I."

She’s not telling me anything I don’t already know. "And you're still here. Are you crazy?" This was a legitimate question.

Emma reached over to play in my hair again, "Only about you. I'm going to focus on what I can do something about. You and I. I'm too curious to not look, and I can't promise it won't get to me, but at the end of the day I get you." She leaned across the console and I met her for a kiss. "Also going to keep my shit on private."

Mallory spoke again, “I know it’s totally none of my business.”

I interjected, “Wouldn’t be discussing in front of you if we weren’t ok with your opinion. Sometimes outside opinions see things better. Especially if you watched a fan meltdown before. Thank fuck I’m not in One Direction.”

“Can you sing?”

“Not in a way anyone wants to pay to hear. Maybe a charity karaoke or something.” I liked injecting laughter into a not funny conversation. I worried about this. I worried about Emma get drug through shit.

“I think you have to find a balance. You can’t do something because of fans, but you can’t avoid things either. Fans don’t react well to being kept in the dark, but they are quick to be pissed by baiting or what they think is rubbing their face in something.” She put her hand on her chest, “For me, and remember I was seventeen, I didn’t care about casual dates or whatever, but if it was serious and they were being spotted everywhere it was different. Then it becomes fans creating their own stories if they don’t have the real thing. Some fans got pissed when they could see what was going on, but being told nothing was going on. Felt like they were being lied to or treated like crazy fans. Again, with balance. How much are you ok with revealing versus how much fiction is tolerable. Emma’s right. You can’t win.”

I waited until we got to a stoplight and turned to look at Mallory, “Now, you’ve given me things to think about.”

Mallory shrugged, “I think you play to the sane stable fans. The others are going to create chaos no matter what.”

“Ummm.” I was full of thoughts.

Emma chuckled, “Will you be filling me in on these thoughts.”

“When I’m done overthinking and sorting through them.”

They went back to talking and I tried to leave all the thoughts behind. They needed to simmer. I’d look at them later. When we reached Mallory’s place I jumped out and ran around to the other side of the car. I pulled Mallory into a hug. Initially, she tensed and I was afraid I’d entered unwanted affection territory, but she quickly relaxed and hugged me back. I’d just surprised her. “Thank you for everything. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Emma was smirking when I got back in, “What?”

“I think you get comfortable with people before they’ve totally adapted to you.”

I knew what she meant. “I hug too quick.”

“No, no, no. Not too quick. It’s just fun to watch the reaction because getting used to talking to you is very different than being in your arms. You up close is better looking than you a few feet away. Your blue eyes. And your arms and chest feel . . . mmm.” She shimmied in the seat, “So good.”

“That may be just you.”

She started laughing. Hard. “I don’t think you believe that.”

She was right. I started laughing with her, “I do know I can cause a reaction. Not gonna lie, it’s fun.”

“I can’t wait to see you with a group of fans..”

“It’s a mind fuck. Prepare to deflate my ego. I can get a little out of hand after events.”

“Really?”

I nodded, “Part of why I take friends with me when I can. Hours of screaming, crying, and shaking fans. Being told your gorgeous and they love you. The stories about what something I’ve done has meant to them. It’s all pretty heady shit.”

“Plus all the hugs and inappropriate comments from beautiful women.”

Well, I walked myself into this. Luckily, I could tell she was teasing me and not taking it seriously. “You know how visual I am.”

“You just bring all that pent-up sexual energy home to me and we’ll work it off.” She patted my thigh. “And if you’re getting too cocky we’ll go to a Pearl Jam concert and you can feel the love rolling off fifty thousand plus people all at once.”

Comparatively, I ain’t shit.

[thecozywhaleshark]

King of Hearts (pt. 4)

Word Count: 6,344

Warnings: Smut. Angst. Some fluff. Swearing. Oral (male and female receiving). Denial. Overstimulation. Bondage. Begging. Masturbation. Unprotected sex (they forgot this time sorry, please be safe my beans). A little thigh riding. Little face riding. Basically the kinkiest shit I have written so far. I’ll go retreat back to my hell cell now.

Summary: He was hired to teach her things... and so that is what he’ll do.

“Bye everyone! It was nice to meet you and see some of you again!” Jin yells, waving as you walk out of the door of another publishing event.

You were so glad it had gone well. It had come up last minute and you had frantically texted Jin: “I have a meeting and Marsha (another one of my editors) is asking about you… H E L P” and thankfully, he had come through.

It had been a long dinner, office casual, and you almost drooled when you saw Jin enter the restaurant in a simple pair of slacks and a buttondown shirt, looking delectable as always.

“Thank you for saving me… again,” you sigh, cheerfully linking your arm through his as you walked to your car.

“You’re just lucky it landed on our date night.” Jin replies, giving you a wink.

You roll your eyes. Boys. “Date night, huh? So that’s what we’re calling it?”

He leans in and brushes his lips against your ear. “That’s what we’re calling it until we’re out of earshot of some of your co-workers.”

You glance behind you and see that there were, in fact, two of your team walking a couple feet behind you on their way across the parking lot.

“Good catch,” you whisper, “Now pretend to laugh at something I said.”

Jin lets out a jolly laugh and unlinks your arms so he can throw it around your shoulders.

“I can’t believe you said that!” he says, raising his voice slightly so the people behind you are sure to hear.

“You’re just jealous you didn’t think of it first,” you fire back, raising your own voice slightly and elbowing him in the gut before ducking out from under his arm and striding out of his reach. “Race you to the car!”

You are thankful you decided to wear flats to this dinner instead of your heels and take off, more to get away from your co-workers than actually play with Jin.

Jin catches up to you easily and could have outrun you, but you slam your hand against the back of your car.

“I win!” you crow gleefully.

“That’s not fair, I don’t know what your car looks like!” he complains, while you search in your bag for your car keys.

You grin. “I just thought we should put some space between us and our followers,” you state, nodding your head in their direction.

He glances back and sees them a good ways off and grins. “Smart tactic…” he mumbles, then leans across the hood as he waits for you to unlock the door. “… or were you just warming up for later?”

You smirk and give him a heavy wink. “Maybe I was warming you up,” you reply, unlocking the door and sliding into your seat before he has a chance to reply, and therefore missing the way his face changes.

Jin slides into the passenger side and buckles, waiting until you start the car and are backing out before speaking.

“So I read some of your works…”

You blush hard. Well this has to be a nightmare... 

“Oh god.”

“I read that Elaina is tied up in Chapter 57… and so is Ariel in Chapter 8, and Sydney in Chapter 32, and Morgan in Chapter 23…” he counts off his fingers then looks up at you with a smirk.

You can feel your face turning so red it hurts and you’re thankful for the darkness of the car, though you’re sure he can see flashes of it in the strobing passes of the streetlights.

“Did you read everything I’ve written in a week?”

He rests his head on the back of his seat and shrugs. “You write interesting things. And I travel a lot. Reading passes the time.”

You nod and there is a moment of silence before his voice leeches out from the dark.

“Tell me, y/n, have you ever tied up a man?”

You choke and swerve the car, and a car honks at you.

“WATCH IT!” Jin shouts, grabbing the steering wheel and getting you to the side of the road.

He pats your back while you fan yourself with your hand. “What –“

He runs a hand through his hair. “Okay, let’s try that again. You seem to be quite fascinated with tying up other women y/n… have you enjoyed that in past experiences?”

You blush before mumbling a soft yes and he makes a humming sound in the back of his throat. “Okay. Things to keep in mind.”

The car ride is silent until Jin suddenly yells, “THERE!” and points violently to a store on the corner.

“What?! What is it?!” You yell, straining to see if there was something in the road ahead of you.

“That store – do you see the neon red sign?”

You squint. “Momma Thot’s Sex and Secrets?”

He nods. “Yes! Pull into that parking lot.”

“Why?” you ask as you cross lanes and turn into the lot of the gas station on the other side of the street.

“I have something I need to buy there… for us.”

You park the car and turn to him. “Us?”

“Yes, us.”He smirks and unlocks his door, climbing out before ducking his head back in. “You hired me to teach you things, darling. And this item is part of the lesson. Plus, this shop is the only place I can get it.”

You climb out of the driver’s side and slam your door, double-checking to make sure you locked it.

“This place is sketchy.” You say, quickly walking to Jin’s side.

He scoffs. “Don’t judge it just because it has a red sign. Kristy is very nice.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Kristy?”

“The owner of the shop.”

You look at him and he holds out an arm in front of you to stop you from walking into traffic.

“So I take it you’ve been to this place many times before then.”

He smirks and gestures to you when the traffic is cleared enough so you can cross. “I know this place like the back of my hand…”

You thought you heard him say “and the woman who runs it too,” but you couldn’t be sure, as a loud truck drowned out the last part of his sentence.

You tried to ignore it but you couldn’t help hearing it over and over in your mind. And the woman who runs it too and the woman who runs it too and the woman…

Jin opens the door for you and you enter the store under the ding of the bell.

Yup, definitely a sex shop, you think as you take in the racks of nude magazines by the door and the locked case of whips and harnesses against the back wall.

“Can I help you?” a woman purrs and you turn to meet the striking blue eyes of the cashier. Jin offers her an easy smile.

“Hey, Kristy. Just need some of that lovely Japanese silk rope you introduced me to…” he leans against the counter and gives her a heavy wink.

She smirks back. “Back for more?” she asks, slowly trailing her hand up his arm.

He covers her hand with his own. “As much as I would love a little more of you… I have a date tonight.” He nods in your direction.

You offer a shy smile and little wave of your fingers. Kristy chuckles and gives a little finger wave back making you blush and look away.

I’m just gonna go over here and um… admire this wall of dildos… yup.

“Do you think she’ll be able to handle it?” you hear Kristy whisper and Jin laughs.

“The rope please, princess. You know my favorite one.”

She chuckles and pulls a sky blue rope off the back wall.

He smirks. “Perfect. Just like the eyes of my favorite girl.”

You roll your eyes and try to ignore the twinge of jealousy that pings inside you and turn your focus to a shelf of ball gags. Maybe if I shove one down my throat far enough I’ll die…

No. Snap out of it.

You’re gagging enough having to listen to this.

Not that you’re jealous.

Why are you suddenly jealous of an escort?

Stop it. This wasn’t the plan.

“Ready to go?” You start and turn around, seeing Jin holding a plastic bag and staring at you curiously.

“Um, yeah. I’m fine. Let’s… yup. We go.” You quickly spin on your heel and head out the door, Jin chuckling after you.

I am not jealous of the sex store cashier. Am not. Not jealous. Not.

“You’re flighty tonight, little bird.” He hums, catching up with you easily in just a few long strides.

You laugh and hate how it comes out sounding higher than you intended. “This is how I normally walk.”

He snorts. “No you don’t. You drag your feet. Right now, you seem to be running away.”

He grabs your arm and pulls you to a stop. “Y/n… are you scared? Because we don’t have to do this tonight, I just thought that maybe…”

You shake your head furiously. “No! Oh no. I’m not scared.”

He lets go of your arm and shoves his hands in his pockets, the bag dangling at his hip. “Then what is it?”

You tuck your hair behind your ear and look away, letting out a huffy breath. “Sex stores just make me uncomfortable.”

He smirks. “Says the erotica writer.”

You roll your eyes. “Yes, says the erotica write who hired an escort-“ you turn and poke him in the chest. “-that’s you, to teach her things.”

He smirks and holds up the bag. “And that’s exactly what I’m doing.” He leans down close and breathes hot on your ear. “But to teach you things… dearie… we have to do a little… shopping.” He kisses your cheek and straightens, walking over to your car.

“Now where are we going? Which hotel?”

You fidget with the straps of your purse and blush, trying to keep your voice steady. “The nearest hotel is half an hour away from here… so I was thinking…”

Just spit it out already, y/n

He turns around and raises an eyebrow. “Yes?”

“Um… I was thinking, we could maybe, if it’s okay with you, to um, go to my place?”

He seems to miss a step for a second before shaking his head and letting out a little laugh.

“If that’s what you want.”

You shrug and follow him. “It’s just closer, that’s all.”

“Well, in that case…” he walks to the passenger side and tugs violently on the handle with his free hand. “Let me in!” he hollers, making the handle of the door thump faster and you laugh, pulling your keys out of your purse.

“You’re a child.”

He smirks as you unlock the car and folds his arms on the top of your car.

“You won’t be thinking that soon, love.” He winks and slides in your car, leaving you cursing him silently and fumbling to find the right key for the ignition.

You make it back home in relative silence… well as silent as it can be as Jin reaches into the bag and begins to untie the rope ends, practicing knots as you drive through the dark.

“This is me,” you say, pulling up to your apartment building and parking.

“You live in an apartment?” Jin asks, stepping out of the car and beginning to swing his bag again. “Why don’t you have a house?”

You shrug. “I don’t like the idea of living alone in a big house. I don’t need it. An apartment is fine.”

He nods as you head up the stairs in silence and lead him to your door at the end of the hall.

“Okay, so this is my place…” you state, awkwardly holding the door open for him.

Of course it is stupid, why would you let him into a random place? Why would you have the key to some random building?

Oh, shut up.

He looks around and unbuttons the cuffs of his sleeves, rolling them up. “Cozy.”

You roll your eyes and follow him in. “What were you expecting, a mansion?”

“Nah,” he grins and sets the bag on the kitchen table. “Just for it to be a little messier. Like my place.”

“Oo so the popular escort Jin is a mess?” you tease, setting your purse down next to the bag.

“You have no idea,” he whispers, his eyes going dark for a moment before he gives a brief shake of his head and gives you that flirtatious grin again.

“So,” he kicks off his shoes and reaches for the bag again, shaking it. “Where should we set up?” He wiggles his eyebrows and you laugh, shoving him with your shoulder on your way past him.

“This way.”

You lead him into your bedroom and turn on the lights, gesturing towards your bed. “I assume you’ll want to do this there.”

He laughs and heads over to it, sitting on the end of the bed and bouncing a few times. “This would be preferred, yes.”  

He beings to unbutton his shirt and you yelp.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! What are you doing?!”

He looks at you curiously. “… getting naked?”

You blush furiously and look away. Of course he is.

He smirks. “What’s the matter, doll? Getting nervous?” he chuckles and shrugs his shirt off this shoulders, folding it in his lap. “You’ve seen me naked before.”

“Yes, but…” Never in my bedroom…“Never mind. Let’s do this.”

You pick up the bag from the end of the bed next to him and pull out the rope. “How do you want to be tied?”

His eyes darken and he takes a deep breath. “You have no idea how hard you just made me,” he groans and your eyes widen.

“Better finish getting yourself undressed then I guess,” you smirk back, loving the little rush of power that you got when you saw how that comment affected him so quickly.

He quickly obeys and reaches for the rope. “The easiest way is this knot,” he explains, showing you how to do it. “It will hold me in so I can’t get away while at the same time make it easy for you to untie me when we’re done, see?” he pulls a string and the knot unravels. You nod.

“Okay, here.” He hands it to you and skootches back on the bed, towards your metal headboard. “Do you want me laying down, or sitting up? Or something else?” he asks and you fumble.

“um… I, I don’t know. Um, whatever is the most comfortable for you? What do you usually do?”

You fiddle with the rope and he smiles at you. “That’s okay. How about this? I’ll prop myself up on these pillows, and you can make the rope just loose enough so that it’ll be fine if you decide later that you want me laying down, you can just remove the pillows?” He arranges while he explains and you watch carefully while he does until he settles.

“I think I’m comfortable here. You okay with this?”

You step back and look him over, nodding your approval. “I think that’ll work.”

“Super. Now tie me.” He grins and holds out his wrists.

“So eager to be bound,” you smirk, wrapping the rope around one of his wrists and bringing his arm up to the headboard and he licks his lips, watching you darkly.

You finish tying him up and stand back. “Is that okay?”

He gives the ropes a test try, and gives you an easy smile. “Perfect.”

You stare at each other for a minute before you blush and look away.

“I don’t know what to do,” you whisper, standing awkwardly at the end of the bed.

He gives you an encouraging smile. “Do whatever you want to do to me, love. That’s how this works. Have your way with me.”

You take a breath and step towards him. Be brave, y/n. You can do this. You smirk and lower your voice as you begin to pull your blouse out of your skirt. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”

He watches as you pull it over your head and reach for the zip on your skirt.

“More than anything,” he breathes, his eyes locked on your body.

You feel a rush of heat head towards your core and you quicken your efforts to get out of your clothes. You shimmy out of your skirt and kick off your flats, leaving them where they lie.

“Goddamn, you’re beautiful,” he praises, and you blush again.

You still have more clothes to remove, and in a rushed and slightly flustered effort to get out of your tights quickly, you trip and bang your knee against the hard edge of your bed frame.

“Oh, fuck me.” You curse, sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling off your tights the correct, not-standing-up way.

“I would, but you see, I’m a little tied up here.” Jin grins and gives his hands a tug at the ropes. “So I guess you’re just going to have to do all the work.”

You pull off your tights and straddle him quickly, his eyes widening.

“Is that what you want, baby?” You coo, stroking your finger down his cheek and beginning to grind on his lap, giving him a smirk of satisfaction when his breath hitches.

“See, I told you that you would be good at this…” he groans, then gasps as you grind a little harder and you feel the first shoots of pleasure begin to warm your body.

You feel him hardening beneath you all the way, and you smile, reaching back to unclasp your bra, exposing your breasts to his face, but not moving close enough so he can touch them.

He licks his lips and groans, staring at your chest as you continue to move your hips.

“What is it Jinnie?” you ask, taking your hands off his shoulders and moving them to your chest to begin to play with your nipples. “Did you want to touch?”

He swallows hard and flicks his eyes to yours before nodding hard and letting out an enthusiastic, “Fuck. Yes! Yes. Please. Yes please.”

You tap your chin and pretend to consider it, moving your chest closer to his face. “I mean… I guess you can…”

You slide your hand in his hair and use your other to brace yourself on his shoulder as he immediately latches onto your chest and groans around your nipple, sucking hard.

You moan as he works you, switching between your breasts and moaning at how good you feel in his mouth. You’re getting swept away in the feeling before a trickling thought flows into your mind-

Make him beg for it.

It takes effort, but you push him off you and smirk, moving back so he can’t touch you with his mouth anymore.

He whines in protest, trying to sit up more but being yanked back by the ropes holding him down and at your mercy.

You quirk an eyebrow at him and cluck your tongue, making him quiet immediately and look at you with big eyes and his mouth slightly open, panting.

You trail your fingers lightly down his chest, relishing in the way he shudders beneath you as your hand lowers and you gently stroke up his length.

You continue this soft stroking until he is whining and desperate under your hand, gnawing at his lips and clenching his fists, trying to buck his hips. His efforts are in vain though, as your body is holding his legs down and he can’t force you to go faster or grip him harder.

Soon enough he can’t take it anymore and begins to try to reason with you.

“You’re so good at this baby,” he groans, his voice shaking as he tries to keep himself from falling apart. “But I want to be inside you,” he states, moving one of his legs so his thigh is pressing to your core and you moan, unable to stop yourself from grinding a little against it.

“Do you now,” you smirk, leaning forward until your lips are a hairsbreadth away from his.

“Oh, I do,” he smirks back, though his is brief. “And I know you want me to be inside you too.”

You tsk and ghost your mouth over his, pressing faint brushes against his jawline.

“Mmm.. do you now.” You respond, pressing your mouth lower on his neck.

He tilts his head so you can have better access and continues his reasoning. 

“I do. You see, I know how much you love feeling me deep inside you. Imagine it. Me, stretching you so sweetly, filling you up so good. I know how much you like that pretty little cunt stretched. Especially by me. You love how I fill you and make you feel.” His voice lowers and you shiver, tightening your grip on him before you nip at his neck and suck.

You hear his sharp intake of breath as you flick your thumb over his tip once before pulling away from his neck, leaving a purple bruise in your wake.

You take your hand off his length and brush the pad of your thumb over the little mark you just made on his pretty skin, satisfied. “I wish you could see how pretty this is,” you coo, pulling your hand away. “But I guess you’ll just have to admire it later.”

You let your hand trail down again and move your body until you’re sitting between his legs. You cock your head to the side and trail your fingers lightly over the inside of his thighs, smiling when you see the muscles in his legs clench.

“So tense, baby.” You soothe, rubbing little circles into the tops of his thighs with your fingers before tripping them down again.

“Can you relax for me?”

He takes a deep breath and shudders, trying to do as you ask as you lower your head and place your mouth around the tip of his cock for just an instant, flicking your tongue over him briefly before moving away.

“Y/n…” he groans, bucking his hips, and you’re delighted. This is the first time he’s resorted to using your name instead of a pet name, and you want to milk it for all it’s worth.

You shift where you sit a little uncomfortably, the pressure inside you building up a little too much for your liking. As much as you loved teasing Jin, you wanted some relief too.

Lifting your hips you slip off your underwear and let it fall off the side of the bed, settling yourself down by Jin’s knees.

You use your feet to spread Jin’s legs until you find a comfortable position, hooking your legs over his and settling yourself back on one of your hands.

From where you sat, you had a perfect view of him tied up and looking down at you, and from the way you were spread, he also had a perfect view of you.

You smirk at him as you slowly begin to trail the hand not holding you up across your body, swirling your fingertip around your nipple before pinching it yourself and letting out a moan.

He groans and strains against his ties. “Baby, that’s not fair.” He whines and you see his dick twitch. “Let me touch you. I can make you feel so good.”

You hum and trailed your hand over your stomach, sliding down into your own heat.

“But why would I need you when I can just do it myself?” You croon, rubbing circles around your clit before slipping two of your fingers between your folds. “I’m an independent woman.”

Jin groans again and tugs harder at his ties, shaking the bedframe. “My hands feel better than yours do… and you know it.”

You let out a moan as you increase the pressure on your clit, working yourself harder and feel your juices begin to drip down your thighs.

“That’s… debatable, baby.” You whimper, sliding a finger inside yourself to gather more wetness and bringing it back up to your clit.

You stop talking then, letting your moans speak for themselves as you bring yourself to orgasm by your hand and the sound of Jin’s begging.

He groans so loud when he watches you climax, and whimpers as he watches you smear your own cum around yourself, playing with your body where he wishes he could be instead.

“Did you want to taste?” You ask, sitting up and crawling back over to him, letting your tongue flick out against the angry red tip of him to taste his pre-come before you sit up and brush your slicked fingers against his lips.

He opens his mouth and sucks your fingers into his mouth, moaning at your taste.

“Please…” he whimpers and you pull your fingers out. “Please… I want to come.”

You re-position yourself over his cock and rub yourself against him, letting him pass between your slick folds but not letting him go any further.

“Wanna come… please…” he whines, bucking his hips. You grind onto him a little more, before immediately stopping what you’re doing and sliding down his thighs to grab the base of his cock in your hand and give it a hard squeeze, denying his orgasm and making him cry out.

“Oh, but you’re doing so well baby,” you coo, stroking his damp hair off his forehead.

“Please,” he whispers, bucking his hips beneath you.

“Oh, no no no... baby... see, what’s gonna happen… is you’re going to let me use you to get off.. but you better not come... or else things are only going to get worse.”

You lean up on your knees, pressing a kiss to one of his rope rubbed wrists before sinking down onto him.

He cries out and you lean forward, catching his lower lip between your teeth.

“Don’t come.” You whisper, smirking as you pull away.

You begin to grind your hips on him, relieved to finally feel some friction inside you. You keep an eye on him as you begin to lower yourself up and down his length, smirking when you see his head fall back against the headboard.

“Oh no baby,” you coo, reaching out and grabbing the back of his neck, pulling his forehead to yours. “I want you to watch.”

He lets out a strangled sound and bites his lip so hard to keep himself from coming as you sit back up and brace yourself against his chest, beginning to ride him harder.

“That’s it, baby, so hard for me…” you whimper as you hit him harder, chasing your release.

He’s concentrating so hard there are tears pricking in the corners of his eyes as he tries to breathe through it and not come.

You’re close to your second orgasm and unthinkingly clench around Jin, making him give a startled cry and buck up into you.

“That’s… that’s not playing fair,” he gasps, a tear falling down his face as he struggles to stop his hips… and fails.

You tsk and force yourself off him, moving yourself down his thighs before sliding off onto the sheets next to him.

“Baby, god, please, no” he whimpers as you leave him, and you lean over to kiss him, trailing your hand up his chest, stopping at his jaw to rub the pad of your thumb over his bottom lip.

“You got close there, didn’t you love?” you whisper, leaning over him to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Please,” he whimpers as you move your thumb from his lip to his cheek, brushing away the tears, “Please, y/n, baby, sweetheart, y/n, please…”

You hum softly and bring your thumb wet with his tears to your lips and suck. “Please… what?”

He groans out loud. “Please… suck my cock… let me come, please I’d be so good to you I promise…”

“Please suck my cock baby… I’ll be so good to you baby…’” you murmur and move up the bed, feeling bold and ready to try more new things while you’re in the mood.

You straddle his shoulders and position yourself over his face. “I think I want you to be good to me first.”

His head comes off the bed and he latches his mouth onto your heat eagerly, flattening his tongue to stroke you as you grab the headrest and move your hips over him.

He’s eating you faster than he ever has before, letting you use him to get yourself off, his hands straining at the ropes.

You reach down and grab both of his hands at their tied positions and twine your fingers through his as you work your hips harder.

He begins sucking at your clit and you let go of one of his hands so you can brace yourself against the headboard again, clenching your thighs around his head as you come in a wave of dizzying heat.

He lets out a loud moan between your legs, and you look down, making eye contact with him as you watch him continue to clean and eat you slowly.

It takes you a minute to get out of your post-orgasm haze and still your rocking hips so you can shakily climb off him and maneuver yourself back down his body.

His lips are swollen and covered with your juices, and his eyes so big as they watch you slide your fingers down his chest and over the tops of his thighs as you settle between his legs.

“You did so good for me, handsome,” you praise, pressing a soft kiss to the top of his hip. “I think you deserve a reward for that, yeah?”

He whimpers as you grab the base of him and lick a stripe up his length, swirling your tongue at his leaking, throbbing tip. He bucks his hips and you press a tender kiss to the top.

“I know baby, I’ll take care of you. Don’t worry.” You coo, stroking him gently with your fingers as his legs tremble, before latching your mouth to his tip and sucking hard.

He comes immediately with a cry, so worked up he can’t hold back any longer, bucking his hips to get deeper into your mouth. You help him through it, and eventually, his head falls back against the pillow and he lets out a loud sigh of relief.

You watch his chest heave from your position, his cock still in your mouth as you soothe his shaking legs with your hands.

“Thank you,” he whispers, a little breathless, and you smile around him.

Oh baby, you’re not done.

You continue to work him in his mouth and he whimpers, trying to pull away.

“T-too much,” he stutters, and you smirk, flicking your eyes to his face and shooting him a wink.

He’s gone soft in your mouth but you continue to work him with your tongue and suck, and soon he’s starting to harden all over again.

“Fuck baby, how –” he whines and you suck a little harder until he’s coming again on your tongue with a shout.

You swallow everything he gives you and let him fall out of your mouth, pressing tender kisses to his pelvic bone as you kiss your way back up his chest and meet his mouth, praising him as you go.

“That was so good baby, you did so well…” you murmur, reaching up to untie his left hand, pressing a kiss to the rubbed skin and placing it on the bed before untying the right.

“Where… did you learn… to do that?” he asks, sinking down into the bed and rubbing his wrists.

You press a kiss to his forehead, seeing his eyes start to close.

“I told you, I’m an erotica writer… I just became one of my characters.”

“I thought you were… more of an innocent… in bed,” he yawns, closing his eyes.

You brush your fingers through his hair and smile as his body fully relaxes against the sheets and he begins to snore softly.

“Only sometimes,” you whisper, crawling into bed beside him and pulling the comforter over you both.

~

It’s only been a couple of hours when you climb out of bed as carefully as you can, trying to avoid waking Jin as you head over to your laptop on the other side of the room.

You were too wired to sleep anymore. Too many things had happened tonight, and you were feeling the urge to write… now.

You lowered the brightness on your screen and picked up your glasses case, looking over your shoulder as you carefully opened it and tried to close the case as gently as possible.

You fix your glasses and reach for a scrunchie to tie up your hair, opening up the document that held your current work in progress…

“Tell me, Katherine, have you ever tied up a man?” you type, and quickly fall into your written world.

~

Jin wakes up in a panic, blinking blearily in the dark. Something had lured him awake, a furious tapping of sorts. Stretching out his arm, he finds your figure gone and looks around the room.

Shit. I just broke Rule #2. Never fall asleep.

He sits up, his heart pounding as he criticizes himself and his professionalism, and stifles a groan, his body sore from earlier. He smirks as he stretches his arms and rolls his neck, looking around for where you when. He catches a glimpse of your glowing screen on the other side of the room and his gaze softens.

He can barely see your dim outline against the glow, hair pulled up messily, body wrapped in a blanket, but he feels the intense urge to go to you.

Softly, he gets out of bed, dragging the comforter with him, and pads over to your form. You’re concentrating so much you don’t notice until you hear his gravelly voice in your ear.

“Harder, fuck, harder Ryan,” he moans and you yelp, slamming your laptop shut.

“JIN!” you yell, throwing off your glasses and burying your face in your hands. “You scared me!”

He chuckles and wraps his comforter around your shoulders, hugging you as he leans over your body. “Open up, I want to read more.”

You snort and lean back against your chair, your head hitting his shoulder. “In your dreams.”

He pouts against your hair. “But aren’t I the inspiration for this?”

You roll your eyes and sigh. “I mean… yeah… maybe… but you weren’t supposed to read that! At least, not yet.”

“Ooo, not yet? So I will get to read it.”

“Maybe. If you’re good.”

His breath is hot on your ear as he leans his head down and begins pressing kisses to your jawline. “If I’m good…” he murmurs, “Was I not good enough tonight?”

You close your eyes and lean into his touch. “You were very, very good… so good for me Jin.”

He moans softly at your compliment and catches the bottom of your ear in his teeth.

“And since I was very, very good… I think I should get to read this early.”

He pulls away from you lightning-fast and snatches your laptop, letting the comforter fall to the ground.

That motherfucker-

“JIN!” you yell again and run after him as he laughs and bounces onto the bed.

You’re quick to follow, climbing over him and using your entire body to try to wrestle it back. “Give it.” You grit, straddling his lap.

“No,” he smirks and clutches it tight to his chest, pulling you closer to him.

“Why…” you complain. “Jin, I need this for work. It’s my job. I promise you can be the first one to read it when it’s done.”

He hums and tugs it closer, refusing to let go. “Okay… but I wanna read it now…” he whines and you giggle, digging your fingers into the edge and trying to pry his hands from it.

“No.” You say sternly and he pouts, finally letting go.

“Good man,” you smirk and go to climb off him to put it back, but he grabs you and holds you in place.

“No.” he states and reaches to press your laptop down onto the bed. “You have to stay.”

You laugh and wrap your arms around his neck. “Aww… is someone feeling cuddly?”

“Yes.” He whispers, and pulls you to him, resting his cheek against your head.

You’re breaking Rule #3 his mind whispers, and he closes his eyes trying to drown it out. Never stay the full night with a client…

“Shut up,” he mumbles to himself and you stir against his chest.

“Excuse me?”

“Not you,” he whispers, kissing the top of your head. “Just talking to myself.”

You hum sleepily and nuzzle into him and he swears you can feel his heart skip a beat. He holds you until your breathing deepens, and tucks you both into the sheets.

But now that he has you here, even though the night has been long, he finds that he can’t sleep anymore.

Jin watches as the clock on the dresser blinks to 3am, and he knows he’ll have to leave in a few hours, where he’ll have to start another day.

Slowly, he unwraps his body from yours and reaches for the dropped comforter on the floor, laying it over your body and tucking you in, the rules racing through his mind.

#1. Never catch feelings for a client.

#2. Never fall asleep.

#3. Never stay the full night with a client. Give them what they paid for and leave.

Breaking the rules will get you in trouble.

Jin’s not one to break the rules, but as he dresses himself and leaves you a note - a simple explanation saying he had to go early and to text him when you can… he considers it... stopping to blow a soft kiss to your sleeping form before he walks out the door.

Part 5

[shijiujun]

if tang yi discovered that shaofei kissed another person for a work mission what would he do?? Have you an headcanon?

heya!!! hi again if you’re the anon who sent me the two previous asks on what my headcanons are - i don’t get enough of those so THANK YOU and also like i’m blown away that any person who ask me about my headcanons HAHAHA i’m sorry it took so long btw I HAVE BEEN SWAMPED WITH WORK

okay, so let’s break it down: tang yi discovering that shaofei kissed another person for a work mission - i can totally see this happening AND it’s likely that when shao fei is first assigned the role (he’s the captain, and he HAS to take one for the team because okay, the mark is gay and unfortunately, zhao zi isn’t his type so shao fei has to volunteer himself after a process of elimination, but he’s super reluctant to do it because shit, if tang yi ever finds out about this- NO, tang yi CANNOT find out, over his dead body, but then good boyfriends communicate right? what if tang yi finds out and then gets angry at the fact that shao fei didnt tell him? okay, maybe he’ll tell tang yi AFTER the deed is done, at least by then it’s done and they don’t have to think about it anymore)

and so he gets it done, tries to avoid kissing the mark as much as possible but alas, his efforts were for naught and the mark totally sneaks a kiss in and shao fei freezes but he has to do his job!!!

after, when he gets home, after he’s showered and brushed his teeth a gazillion times, he’s very quiet and keeps sneaking glances at tang yi - tang yi who looks so perfect with his hair all fluffy and down at home, tang yi in those pajamas that shao fei loves, tang yi already seated in bed, reading a book quietly as he waits for shao fei to join him in bed. shao fei could barely look tang yi in the eye earlier, and lucky for shao fei, tang yi doesn’t seem to have noticed anything wrong with him yet, but he also knows that it’s only a matter of time before tang yi finds out (and come onnn zhao zi will probably tell jack anyway and then jack somehow, for some reason, will get this information back to tang yi even tho the man isn’t working for him anymore)

secrets between the both of them have never been a good thing - just look at the four years they spent disliking and fighting with each other on the tang guo dong and li zhen jie case. and after everything they’ve been through, they promised that there wouldn’t be any secrets between them. not the important ones.

and frankly, shao fei loves and respects tang yi too much to hide this from him.

so he makes his way slowly to bed, a towel slung around his neck as he idly dries his hair, and he sits on the bed, on his side of the bed. after a moment, shao fei turns around, bites at his lips and calls-

***

“Tang.”

Tang Yi looks up from his book, his eyes crinkling as he smiles, “How was work today?”

At that, Shao Fei is once again reminded of what he had to do for work. His face crumples almost immediately.

“What’s wrong?” Tang Yi asks, his brows furrowing as he sees the look on Shao Fei’s face. “Did something happen?”

And the story just comes tumbling out. Stammering and also shooting furtive looks at his boyfriend, Shao Fei explains how he had to kiss the mark today, and he tried to avoid it as much as he could, and oh my god please don’t be angry-

Shao Fei is fully prepared to face Tang Yi’s wrath. He’s seen the man’s anger enough times over the years to know that Tang Yi is going to be pissed. Pointing his own gun at him in the car a while back and also shoving him to the floor the other time with Hong Ye before Shao Fei realised that he loved Tang Yi, and even after, that time when he revealed that Chen Wen Hao was Tang Yi’s father. Even when Tang Yi was in prison, and after he got out and they started living together for real, they had their fair share of fights, just as any couple would. 

Shao Fei is prepared to spend the night in the guest room. He’ll think of how to grovel his way back into Tang Yi’s good graces tomorrow. Seriously, this wasn’t even entirely his fault, he didn’t want to kiss the mark either!

So deep he is in his thoughts that Shao Fei literally jolts when Tang Yi kisses him. He hadn’t even seen Tang Yi move so close to him, and he startles when he feels the familiar press of lips to his, because he really doesn’t expect the warm response. He was already picturing a cold, lonely and miserable night without his boyfriend wrapped around him in sleep. But he still melts into it, especially when Tang Yi presses even closer, a warm hand caressing at his cheek, at the side of his face, over his skin, and deepens the kiss.

When they finally pull apart, Shao Fei frowns, confused.

“You’re not angry? I kissed him. I really did. I mean, I tried not to and it was for my job, but I still kissed him.”

Tang Yi nods and raises an eyebrow, then hums, “So you said.”

“You’re really not angry?”

Shao Fei asks again in disbelief. Is Tang Yi lulling him into a false sense of security for some reason… What’s going on? And if Tang Yi really doesn’t mind, if he really isn’t angry then…

Shouldn’t Tang Yi be angry? As his boyfriend, seeing your boyfriend kissing some other person, it’s only normal to be all jealous and angry, is it not? What does this even mean? Why isn’t Tang Yi jealous? 

An unpleasant memory surfaces. A tall vixen in a see-through mesh shirt, locking lips with Tang Yi under the dim lights of a bar, a terrible melody played by the saxophone drifting through the air-

Seeing Shao Fei’s frown and pout, Tang Yi can more or less guess what’s going through Shao Fei’s head. He feels a rush of absolute fondness for this idiot sitting in front of him, and Tang Yi knows he must definitely love this man, because how would he be so willing to put up with this dumbass otherwise?

“Ah Fei. You said it yourself, you had to… seduce your target as a part of your job. Am I really this petty in your eyes?”

“You are,” Shao Fei snorts, crossing his arms in front of his chest and looking away.

Tang Yi rolls his eyes, but continues anyway. “Did you want to kiss him?”

“No! Of course not!”

“You tried your best to avoid having to kiss him?”

“Yeah, definitely!”

“Are you dumping me for someone else?”

“What?!” Shao Fei exclaims, almost jumping to his feet if Tang Yi’s hand wasn’t wound so securely around his waist. “Of course not! How could you think- Of course I’m not dumping you for him! Who the hell is he?”

Tang Yi nods, and amusement shines in his eyes. “And you love me.”

“And I-” Shao Fei repeats, and when his mind finally processes what Tang Yi just said, his entire body just… slumps over, all the tension leaving him as he leans into Tang Yi’s hold properly. 

“And I do love you. The person I love is you. Only you,” he murmurs, the words both a declaration and a promise.

Tang Yi pulls Shao Fei closer, his chin resting on the top of Shao Fei’s head. He breathes out, enjoying the way Shao Fei fits just so naturally against him. It’s been more than three years since they got together, and every day Tang Yi thanks his lucky stars and Boss Tang who’s definitely watching over him, for sending Shao Fei to him.

(He thanks his mother too, and these days its easier to think about the woman who gave birth to him but never got to know him as his mother.)

“Are you an idiot?” Tang Yi huffs, almost in laughter. “This was what got you all tied up in knots all evening? Ah Fei, you’re lucky I love you.”

He doesn’t doubt Shao Fei’s love for him. He cannot. The man waited for him while he sat in jail for a year and a half. If Shao Fei was the type to cheat on him, he would’ve walked away while Tang Yi was rotting in prison, but Shao Fei stayed.

Shao Fei stayed for him, visited him every week without fail and lit up those dark days with his bright smiles that were only for Tang Yi. It was sometimes blinding, just how much Tang Yi could see the love for him, all in Shao Fei’s eyes. 

If given a choice, he would choose to drown in those eyes forever.

His voice muffled against Tang Yi’s shirt, Shao Fei says, “I really thought you would be so angry. I was already prepared to sleep in the guest room tonight!”

“Well, I’m not. Although…”

As he trails off, humming in consideration, Shao Fei pulls away with wide eyes and stares at Tang Yi. “You said you weren’t angry!”

The corners of Tang Yi’s mouth curve into a smirk, and he replies, “I’m not. But you did kiss someone who’s not me. You have to make it up to me.”

Narrowing his eyes in suspicion, Shao Fei asks, “How?”

Tang Yi taps at his own lips. “You have to give me ten times the number of kisses you gave him.”

“That’s all?”

“Mmhmm,” Tang Yi makes a noise of assent. “Well, what are you waiting for?”

Shao Fei’s disbelieving look morphs into a bright, bright grin at that. 

There you are, Tang Yi thinks fondly.

“You said it yourself! No takebacks!”

Before Tang Yi can reply to that, he finds himself with an armful of Shao Fei again as the man tackles him. The force of the hug causes Tang Yi to fall back, Shao Fei ending up on top of him. 

Shao Fei gives him a peck on the lips once, then pulls back. Kisses him again for the second time. Then a third, and a fourth, and-

-and they lose count after that.

***

WOW OKAY so i finally got like a free hour to do stuff and was just gonna briefly take a shot at this ask and headcanon and then of course i kind of died and ran away with it and as everyone knows I’M LIKE THE SHITTIEST WRITER and that’s why i do gifs and shitposts but this ran away from me literally and i’m so sorry if any of you were forced to read through this. and i’ve literally never written a ficlet/fic before whatever THIS DOESN’T COUNT and yup no worries guys gonna get right on Trapped Novel Ch. 7 and other chapters huggles

TL:DR anon i hope this makes sense?!!! thank you for sending me a headcanon, and have a cute Chris/Jake and all my love

[envish]

hey boy, you make me want to write a song

Also available on ao3

-

It’s been literally six years since I posted a fanfic, and I've always wanted to be writer so we might as well START.

DISCLAIMER!!: The song that Derek “writes” in his head is actually a Thomas Rhett song that I modified the pronouns on bc I was too lazy to write an original song plz don’t hate me or sue me Mr. Rhett. In this AU Thomas Rhett doesn’t exist lmao.

-

He doesn’t want to be here. After an eight hour work day at the pool Derek is tired, still grimy even after a hasty shower, and just wants to sleep until he has to work again tomorrow. But, after bailing on their previous outing, his friends had successfully guilted him into coming out to what looks like an impromptu bonfire beach party.

He scoops up his grocery bag (case of cider, a three-quarters full bottle of vodka, a bag of chips), and pumps himself up for at least a few hours of social interaction before exiting his car. 

“Derek!” Shielding his eyes against the glare of the setting sun, just starting to dip below the lake’s horizon, Derek spots Erica waving frantically at him. He heads in the direction of the fire and scattered blankets, sand already between his toes and under his heels. “You came!” As soon as he’s within distance, Erica flings her arms around him.

“Yeah, yeah.” He rolls his eyes good naturally, but hugs her back. His friends are pushy in just the right ways, and Derek loves them all fiercely. “Don’t chirp me about it or I’m leaving.”

“I’ll hug your legs if you try,” she threatens. “Try me, loser.”

Isaac comes up behind him, ducking under Erica’s reaching arms to take the bag from Derek. “Hey Der, nice to see you - Erica, watch it - lemme put these in the cooler.” After Erica has finished thoroughly annoying him, Derek extricates himself, grinning despite himself, and wanders over to where Boyd is lounging on a frayed serape blanket

“Hey man.” Boyd presses a wet can into his hand. “Still alive, I see.”

“Despite Erica’s attempts at smothering me.” He pops the can open, chugging the cheap, bitter beer. He grimaces, wishing he had had the forethought to refrigerate his cider beforehand.

“You love me.” Erica plops down into Boyd’s laugh and he wraps one arm around her waist while keeping his beer from spilling. He blows a raspberry into the back of her neck and she giggles, squirming away from him.

His chest swells with a bloom of affection as he watches the two of them tussel, expertly moving his beer around their flailing limbs. He takes another sip of beer and holds back a gag. “Ugh. Isaac, can you pass me a cider? You can have the rest of my beer.”

Isaac snorts. “Sure, man. The cider’s still room temperature though.”

“Anything is better than this. I’m literally begging you.”

Isaac snickers, but fetches a can out of the cooler. “Here, you big baby.” The cider is barely anything colder than when he brought it from home, but at least he won’t gag after every sip. Beer is nasty and no one will ever convince him otherwise. “Scott just texted me. They’ll be here in about fifteen minutes.”

 Derek is well into his second can of cider, loose limbed enough that he is slumped comfortably into Boyd’s side, when Scott and the others show up in a beat-up blue jeep and an old red convertible. They spill out, laughing and waving at them from the parking lot. It’s almost too dark to distinguish their figures from the darkness of the night settling around them.

As they approach, Derek recognizes almost everyone in the group, except for one broad-shouldered, narrow-hipped lanky boy with amber eyes, a ski-tipped nose, and a smattering of beauty marks. Although there is something vaguely familiar about his eyes, Derek is sure he hasn’t met him before. He would have remembered.

Feeling suddenly too warm and too big for his skin, Derek stumbles to his feet. It’s nearing the end of August, so the air is still heavy and thick as it settles around him. Derek rolls his shoulders, the fabric sticking slightly to his back.

The group of them finally reach the bonfire, and Derek waits for the introductions, stupidly. They’re a bunch of teenagers and twenty-somethings - no one does introductions, you either know someone or you fumble your way into knowing someone. The amber-eyed boy meets his gaze for a short moment before his eyes skitter away. Derek swallows, hard.

“-erek. Derek?” His head snaps up guiltily. Kira is wiggling her fingers in front of his face.

“Yes? Sorry, I zoned out for a second.” He has to physically stop his head from turning to follow the figure walking at the peripheral of his vision. 

Kira narrows her eyes, considering. “Hm. Distracted by something?”

He dangles his can of cider in front of her. “I am drunk ma’am.” He tilts the can up, frowning when nothing comes out. “And I am out of alcohol. Please excuse me.” He attempts to bow, and judging from her giggle, looks ridiculous for it. 

Also, the boy is by the cooler and Derek desperately needs to know his name. He tosses his can into the garbage bag, pinned into the sand with several large rocks, and heads toward the cooler. Scott is there, one tanned arm slung around the boy as they stand directly in his way. Derek would be annoyed if he wasn’t so smitten. 

“Hey.” Does his voice sound normal? Oh, God, he hopes he sounds cool. “Uh, could I get in there -?” He gestures to the two of them, hoping for the boy to slip in his name.

“Oh!” The amber-eyed boy jumps a little, shuffling away from Scott guiltily. “Sorry about that!”

Derek flashes a smile. “No worries.” He waits for a few beats, then turns to rifle through the mess of half melted ice. When he turns around with a wet can in his hand, the amber-eyed boy is digging his elbow into Scott’s stomach.

“Derek, this is Stiles!” Scott exclaims, suddenly and a bit too loudly. The other boy, Stiles, elbows him again, but turns to face Derek. “Uh, I realize you probably hadn’t met him. And, uh. Yeah.”

Pulse racing, Derek nods at Stiles in a hopefully-cool way. “Cool. Yeah, I don’t think we’ve met before? I’m Derek.”

Stiles smiles, a bit shyly. “I’m just here for the summer. Scott and I have been friends forever so he’s showing me around.” His fingers, wrapped around the neck of a brown bottle, are distracting. 

“Oh?” He shuffles closer, belatedly realizing that Scott is heading away from the two of them. “Where are you from?”

“Not far from here - I live over in the next county, but I lived here in Beacon Hills until I was, uh, ten. And then we moved.” He scratches the back of his neck, his face tight with what looks like discomfort. “But Scott and I stayed really good friends.”

Derek has a sudden, vivid flashback of a thin, waif-like child wearing a hoodie down to his knees with a bandaid across the bridge of his nose. Sitting in a hospital waiting room across from him. “I -  I think I remember you?” Stiles’ eyes widen. “Did you have a Mets sweatshirt when you were a kid?”

“I didn’t think you’d remember me,” Stiles says quietly.

Dirty white sneakers, knobby knees, a packet of - “- Reese cups?” When Stiles smiles, his eyes crinkle. “I hadn’t thought about it in years. I think I forgot about it because - well.” Derek cuts himself off before he can put a complete damper on the conversation. “I just forgot, I guess.”

Stiles smiles, a little bit sadly and a lot in understanding. “You seemed so cool to ten year old me. I think you had a walkman and I was so jealous of you.”

Derek snorts, grasping at the new conversation thread in relief. “I was probably listening to Green Day or something equally ‘edgy’.”

“Definitely cooler than me, then.”

They’re interrupted by someone yelling “Derek!” He sighs, turning to see who’s yelling at him this time. It’s Isaac, brandishing - his guitar? Derek had left it in the backseat of his car, but clearly he had forgotten to lock it. “Come play some tunes, man!” Everyone by the fire turns to look at him, expectant.

Stiles makes a noise beside him. “You can play guitar?” Stiles asks. Then, under his breath, “of course you do.”

Derek shrugs, the back of his neck prickling with the sudden attention. “I’m alright, I guess. You coming?” He jerks his head over to the fire and Stiles nods frantically.

“Abso-lutely.”

He settles once he’s sitting down with the guitar under his hands, fingers lazily sweeping over the strings as he tunes the old thing. The guitar is old, gifted to him by his mother, but it’s well-made and will last Derek many, many more years.

“Any requests?” Derek asks, strumming a few chords. He starts to play Wonderwall with a shit-eating grin, Isaac flips him off, and Boyd gets up and starts dramatically walking away from the fire.

Kira snickers and offers “Van Morrison?”

“Brown-eyed girl it is,” he confirms, strumming a G chord, and then they’re in it. Derek might hate being the center of attention, but it’s different when he’s playing like this. With the flow of music under his fingertips, the singing voices cresting on either side of him, he feels a part of something. He’d never ever perform, but this? This warmth, sitting in a circle of familiar and not-yet-familiar faces, all of them suspended in this moment, together? He could do this forever.

Derek cycles through the usual fireside songs - Billy Joel, Fleetwood Mac, John Denver, Eagles, Tracy Chapman, Howie Day, Gavin DeGraw. Somewhere in the midst of it all, Derek catches Stiles’ gaze across the flames, his eyes luminous with the reflection of fire in them, and very nearly forgets to keep playing. And then Derek has to fight against the urge to start strumming an entirely different song, one about whiskey and smoke and stars and falling to his knees.

His fingers fumble on the fret and he hastily looks away, focusing on something safe - the fire, which reminds him of how it had looked reflected in Stiles’ eyes, so he looks at the sand instead. Dark blue in the shadow of the night sky, except for where the fire cuts across it in swaths of glowing orange.

After what feels like hours of playing, the energy of the circle has dipped and levelled out to something mellow and relaxed. Derek’s playing has mostly become background music to a number of side conversations, and at least one makeout session, so he starts strumming Closing Time before he puts his guitar away.

Someone snickers from beside him; Stiles has moved from across the fire to beside him. He was concentrating so hard on not staring at him that he somehow missed Stiles moving from his spot. “Very subtle,” Stiles says.

Derek grins over at him. Stiles is staring at his fretboard, his lashes dark against his cheek. “I’m glad someone appreciates my very subtle song choices.” Derek carefully packs his guitar up, considers leaving it on one of the unoccupied blankets, but decides to keep it on him. 

The night is so clear that the moon’s path is reflected on the rippling surface of the lake. The sky is dripping in stars and Derek desperately wants to walk along the shore of this moonlit lake, wants to hold Stiles hand while he does it because he is, apparently, the world’s sappiest twenty year old guy.

“You want to go for a walk?” Stiles asks. He’s already slipping out of his flip flops, chucking them carelessly over to the side, so he misses Derek’s (probably besotted) look in his direction.

“You read my mind.” Derek digs his toes past the warm sand into the cooler layer underneath. Stiles whoops and races for the shoreline, splashing into ankle-deep water. He is bathed in silver, splashing liquid moonlight everywhere. He looks like some kind of carefree, fae-like god, frolicking along the edges of a sea of stars.

Derek needs to stop writing song lyrics in his head and actually talk to the boy.

Guitar in tow, Derek follows suit and wades into the cold water. “Shit,” he swears, darting back out of the water. “It’s fucking freezing.” Stiles laughs at him as he sticks one toe back in the water.

“Didn’t you grow up here? Shouldn’t you be used to this?”

“I am a warm-blooded creature, thank you very much.” Derek gestures down the stretch of empty beach. “C’mon, I want to show you something.”

“Ooh, are you leading me to a secret hideout?” Stiles asks, excitedly.

“Well - no. But, it’s a close second.” This answer does nothing to deter Stiles’ enthusiasm as they splash along the quiet shore. After a few minutes, they come across Derek’s something - a small, hidden rocky cove out of sight of the rest of the beach. Most of the boulders here are wide and flat, perfect for lounging or sitting on. Derek leads them to a collection of rocks a little ways down, carefully setting his guitar case down and hopping up onto the rock next to it.

“Wow,” Stiles breathes, settling down next to him. “This is gorgeous, Derek.”

Derek is a cliche because he very nearly sighs out “yes,” in response while blatantly staring at Stiles. Instead, he forces himself to look at the scenery, which pales in comparison to the way the moonlight turns Stiles’ skin luminous and otherworldly. His skin is like the inverse of the sky stretched out above them; a pale, glowing canvas pricked with dark constellations.

“What song is that? I haven’t heard it before.”

Derek pauses mid-hum; he hadn’t realized he was humming anything. And then he realizes he’s humming the song that ‘s been writing itself in his head ever since he laid eyes on Stiles. Shit. “It’s original.”

Stiles raises his brows in appreciation. “You a songwriter as well?”

Derek shrugs, but can’t help the pleased grin that sneaks out. “I guess. It’s kinda unavoidable for me. Sometimes I just see someone - something, I mean - and I start mentally writing lyrics.”

Stiles hums, leaning back onto his hands. His legs, constant pendulums, keep shifting so that their knees knock together. Stiles pauses, letting his leg rest against Derek’s. “Will you sing me one?”

His guitar is in his lap before he’s even said the word “yes” out loud. He places his fingers against the fretboard, imagines places his fingers the same way against a set of ribs, a white throat, and begins to sing. He keeps his voice as low as possible, quiet and husky in the fragile not-quite-silence on this secluded strip of beach,

Hey boy, you make me wanna write a song

Sit you down, sing it to you all night long

I've had a melody in my head since you walked in here and knocked me dead

Yeah boy, you make me wanna write a song

And it goes like ooh, what I wouldn't do

To write my name on your heart, get you wrapped in my arms baby all around you

And it goes like hey, boy I'm blown away

Yeah it starts with a smile and it ends with an all night long slow kiss

Yeah it goes like this

Stiles’ eyes have gone a dark, molten amber; either due to being away from the campfire or something else, Derek doesn’t know. His hands are remarkably steady as he plays, despite his heart beating so hard it feels like it’s trying to leap out of his chest, directly into Stiles’ hands. Stiles has nice hands - long-fingered and strong-boned - and Derek thinks tt wouldn’t be so bad, probably, if that were to happen.

His thigh is burning through denim where Stiles is pressed close, no longer subtly brushing their knees together. When he’s finished strumming the last notes of the song, letting them fade into the sound of rolling waves, he decides it’s now or never. Gently setting the guitar aside, Derek leans forward to almost-whisper into Stiles’ ear.

“Hey, Stiles,” Derek whispers.

“Yeah?”

“Can I kiss you now?”

Stiles’ scrunches his nose up into a shy smile and he nods, swaying toward Derek.

Derek catches him behind the neck, thumb in front of one blushing ear, and rushes to meet him halfway in a bruising kiss. He’s just drunk enough that he feels loose and floaty, but not clumsy and sloppy. He’s clear-headed enough to feel the nerves and butterflies inside him roll into a low buzz of excitement as he leans into the kiss.

Stiles runs his tongue over Derek’s bottom lip, one hand sliding up into Derek’s hair and the other is warm on Derek’s thigh. He tugs gently, pulling Derek closer, and he moves into it. Kissing Stiles is like the waves sliding up on the shore, tugged by the moon’s gravity, except Derek is the water and Stiles is his moon.

When they separate to breathe and calm their racing hearts down, Derek keeps Stiles close with an arm settled around his waist. He looks breathtaking in the moonlight, with his hair unruly and his lips reddened, so Derek tells him. Stiles flushes, squirming a little, but beams at him. “Derek Hale, are you a romantic?” he teases.

“Only around you,” Derek replies honestly.

“Oh, you’re so unfair.” Stiles ducks his head down so blow a raspberry against Dereks’ throat in apparent retaliation. He kisses the same spot right after and Derek shivers.

“What?” Derek’s lost the thread of the conversation somehow.

“S’not fair that you’re hot and romantic and ernest about it,” Stiles explains. “You’re going to kill me.”

Oh. Derek smiles at him helplessly, shrugging his shoulders. He can’t think of anything funny to say back; his mind is writing lyrics again and he can’t focus on anything else. But before he let’s it run rampant, he has something very important to ask Stiles. He takes Stiles hand in his.

“Stiles, will you go out with me?”

That seems to startle a laugh out of Stiles, who appeases Derek’s offended look immediately. “Wait, wait, I’m not laughing at you, I just. You had your tongue down my throat five minutes ago and now you’re asking me out like a gentleman.”

“Well, I wanted to be clear that I, y’know, like you. Like in a date-you way not just in a this”, Derek motions between them, “way.” He sighs, his shoulders slumping a bit. He always messes things up somehow. “Nevermind, it’s stupid.”

“No, it’s not!” Stiles holds their clasped hands up to his chest, speaking fiercely. “It’s really sweet, Derek. No one’s ever said that to me before, I was just caught off guard.” Any trace of the earlier teasing is gone, replaced by a very serious looking Stiles. “That was - you’re something else, Derek Hale. I mean that in the best way possible.”

“Oh.” Derek doesn’t know what else to do, so he just sits there while his cheeks heat up.

“And yes, by the way. I would love to go on a date with you.” Stiles smiles at him so softly that Derek wants to sing about sunlight and spring buds and early mornings. He doesn’t realize he’s started humming again, until Stiles asks him if he’s writing another song in his head. 

“Dammit,” he swears. “I can’t seem to help myself around you.”

Stiles looks impossibly fond and just kisses the corner of his mouth, asking, “will you play me another song?”

And Derek says, “always,” and he means it.

[ourloveisforthelovely]

Time to Waste 10

Good Omens 

Link to Chapter 9 

Words: 1,325 (short chapter) 

Pairings: Gabriel x Reader/Crowley x Aziraphale 

______

You stood outside of your bedroom door for a good fifteen seconds before getting enough nerve to go in. The last thing that you really wanted to do at the moment was to fight with Gabriel. The two of you did enough fighting earlier!

“Oh well. Might as well get this over with”

Walking into your bedroom, Gabriel sat on the bed. He sat with his arms crossed over his chest. You fought back a smirk. He reminded you of a giant child who didn’t get his way, 

“Y/n, we need to talk!” 

You took off your jacket without giving him much of regard. 

“Hello to you too.”

You said, casually. The expression on Gabriel’s face was even more amusing. He was the desperate one in this conversation and you were the disconnected one. 

Gabriel jumped up. 

“Where were you?”

There it was! The archangel wasn’t waiting for a chance to question you was he? You looked over your shoulder for a moment. It probably would have been smart to tell him the truth and let him apologize for the way that he did you earlier but you decided against it. 

“I heard that Matilda threw a tantrum on you. What did you ask her to do?

Gabriel was ready to yell! He didn’t want to play this game with you! At the moment, he wanted nothing more than to slam you against a wall and show you just how much he missed you. He should have told you earlier that he wanted you more than you would ever know!  

Now here you were mirroring his attitude earlier. Perhaps this is what he deserved? You, after all, were trying your hardest to let him see just how much you needed and wanted him. 

“She didn’t want to go to bed. That is fine, but that isn’t why I am here.” 

You slowly undid your shirt so that the tops of your bra was showing. Gabriel’s eyes widened when you turned in his direction. His eyes were glued to the tops of your breasts. 

“Well, why are you here exactly?” 

You questioned and began to undo your skirt. Maybe this was cruel to be doing Gabriel this way but what do you care? He was cruel to you! When Gabriel started to stutter, it took all that you had not to laugh. Seeing the once high and mighty archangel a stuttering mess over you was amusing. 

“We need to talk about earlier.” 

You rolled your eyes. 

“I think we both made things very clear earlier.” 

Gabriel’s mouth was slightly hanging open. He reached out and yanked your body against his. 

“I didn’t mean any of it! I want you! You stubborn demon.”

You swallowed before looking up to Gabriel’s face. Had he always been this tall? You slowly ran your hand down his chest. 

“Then why did you say it?”

You resisted the urge to call him a doofus and to think before he speaks. Maybe your snark was what got you into this mess to begin with. Gabriel had done a lot of wrong in the relationship but so hard you. The archangel didn’t really deserve to be snapped at every ten seconds. 

Gabriel lightly laughed. 

“Because I wanted to cause you pain for the pain that you have caused me for the past five years.” 

You stood silently for a moment before pulling away from Gabriel.

“Just so you know, the past five years has been a real fucking picnic for me too! Like I told you a couple of weeks ago, you made me feel like shit! How do you think that I felt when you called me a slut? I had  this girly idea that you were in love with me…”

“I am in love with you!”

Gabriel protested. You raised an eyebrow. 

“You sure have a funny way of showing it.” 

Gabriel sighed, 

“Y/n, I am sorry. I am so fucking sorry. I don’t know what else to tell you.” 

You smiled.

“Admit it. You are jealous of the fact that someone other than you wanted me.” 

Gabriel’s face frown intensified, if possible. 

“Are you talking about Beelzebub?”

You nodded, eagerly. 

“You are so jealous that they wanted to kiss me that you couldn’t stand it.” 

Gabriel was quiet. 

“Fine! I was jealous! I am jealous! You’re mine!” 

Gabriel’s arms were around your waist again. 

“You don’t belong to that prince of hell. You are mind. Mine to love and mine to please.” 

Gabriel’s mouth was back on yours. He quickly backed you to the bed and lowered you to the bed. For a moment, you thought about fighting him but the hidden passion was still clearly there. This was probably a stupid thing to do but you wanted it as much as Gabriel clearly did.

“I want to make love to you. I want to show you how much I love you.”  

“The last time that you showed me how much you loved me I got pregnant with your daughter.” 

Gabriel pulled away and was totally bewildered by that comment. He shook his head.

“One is enough! We don’t need any others.”

“What’s the matter, Gabriel? Can’t handle your own child?”

Gabriel rolled his eyes. 

“Of course, I just wish that she wasn’t so….mouthy. She told that lady that lives next door with all of the cats that her cats were going to eat her when she died. That woman hasn’t looked at us the same since then.”

You put a hand over your face. This was a typical “Matilda moment.” 

“What were you doing?”

Gabriel shrugged. 

“Agreeing with her until I realize that this wasn’t a good conversation to have with someone.” 

You rolled your eyes and reached up to remove your bra.

“No wonder that woman looks at me weird whenever I am outside. Thanks.”

Gabriel was about to say “you’re welcome” but stopped the moment that your bra came off. 

“What are you doing?”

He asked, stupidly. 

“Jeez, I don’t know. What we were doing before our daughter came into the conversation.”

“You started it.”

Gabriel muttered, his eyes were locked on your breasts. 

“Maybe you should finish what you came here for.”

You muttered and reached out grabbing Gabriel by his tie. 

(meanwhile)

Michael sat looking around heaven. They were unsure of what the way to start the apocalypse would be. Clearly, Gabriel couldn’t do his job! Michael rolled their eyes. Thinking of their brother and what a calamity the while “Adam Young” incident led to be was an embarrassment! 

“Michael?”

Michael’s eyes rolled up to see a lesser angel standing before them. Who the lesser angel was, Michael didn’t know. There was no way that Michael could remember all of them.  

“What do you want?”

Michael questioned. The angel looked down quickly before becoming brave enough to look back up. 

“I have some news on Gabriel and his doings on earth.”

Michael sighed. 

“Whoever you are, I don’t care what Gabriel is doing. He is no longer part of us.” 

The angel held a hand up. 

“My name is Katherine. This is you will want to know. The demon girl that he had an affair with...she had a child...Gabriel’s child.”

Michael’s head snapped up at that. Their mouth dropped before jumping out of the chair.

“What did you say?!”

Michael screamed as they reached out and grabbed Katherine by the shoulders. 

“Be sure that you are accurate when you open your mouth again!”

Michael growled. Katherine swallowed.

“Please. another angel and I were visiting earth...the child is undeniably Gabriel’s. There is no mistaking that.”

Michael's eyes were wide as they began to pace around the room. This was definitely the news of the day! Michael was genuinely shocked! What exactly was this child and what could it do? 

A better question was how did Gabriel keep this hidden?

“Would you like me to keep an eye on the child?”

Katherine asked, disrupting Michael’s pretzel-like thoughts. Michael looked up

“I want to see this myself.” 

________

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