#this was supposed to be like four sentences but i LOVE MY BOY

[goodoldfashionedloverboylance]

I feel like we don't talk enough about the fact that Lance was top of his class as a cargo pilot. like everyone is so quick to demean Lance's intelligence because he's surrounded by the dictionary definition of geniuses in their own fields, but his line "fighter pilot, thanks to you washing out" to Keith means he was TOP RANK NUMBER ONE as a cargo pilot.

Lance is consistently infantilized and bullied for being a jack of all trades. his focus is spread, and even so he excels at what he sets his mind to. He, with little to no real gun or hand-to-hand combat training, becomes the team's designated sharpshooter. he also unlocks an altean broadsword , the only paladin to unlock multiple classes of weapons.

But he is the brunt of so many jokes because he's an empathetic, selfless, charismatic guy and a good friend BEFORE he's a genius. And honestly, i do believe whole heartedly that he is a genius, his focus is just so spread that he isn't a prodigy like his team members.

I love you Lance McClain.

[star-sim]

boy's night ☆ riki nishimura

☆ summary: riki had no game, no rizz, which was why he employed the help of his six friends to text you. warning: having seven boys on the phone trying to text a girl does not give good results! ☆ genre: fluff, all enhypen members make an appearance, boys being boys, very stupid, it's getting rizzy in here but clearly i have negative game ☆ warning(s)? no just silliness :3 ☆ word count: 1.7k words

"Oh my god, she texted me!" was the sentence that completely destroyed Jake Sim's house.

Tonight, Riki was having a sleepover at Jake's house. It was supposed to be a chill night, a night in which Riki could bask in his friends' presence before they went off to college again.

There were many perks to being the youngest in his friend group. It seemed like Heeseung, Jay, and Jake forever saw him as their baby, after all, when they all met as children, Riki was a snotty little four year-old, constantly tattling on the older boys. Regardless, it was nearly impossible for them to not fuss over him, constantly asking if he ate yet or if he needed help. Sunghoon teased the ever-living shit out of Riki, sure, but the older boy never hesitated to take Riki's side whenever there was an argument. Sunoo and Jungwon were closest to Riki in age, but that didn't stop them from watching over him closely, like mother cats stalking their cubs.

Though, there was one thing that Riki had to admit that he hated about being the youngest: he was the most inexperienced.

Whenever his friends got their 'firsts,' he was always too young to care. It seemed like all his friends got to experience their first crushes and heartbreaks almost simultaneously, only for them to not be there when Riki had his.

Even when he was now a senior in high school, he had absolutely no idea how to talk to girls.

He'd heard all the stories about Heeseung and his antics at college, all the flirting tips that Jake liked to give out to Sunghoon and Jay, and all the crazed texts that Sunoo and Jungwon sent as they went through relationships.

Even so, Riki had never experienced teenage love for himself.

Enter: You.

You were the cute girl that sat in front of him in his Macroeconomics class. If it wasn't for the fact that Riki absolutely hated Macro, he would blame the fact that you were just so pretty that he couldn't bring himself to focus on the lecture about the New York Stock Exchange.

Initially, Riki had no intention of pursuing you.

You were cute, obviously, but hearing you talk to your partner in class was enough for him. Plus, it wasn't like Riki had any experience— even if he wanted to talk to you, he had no idea how to!

Except, thanks to his nosy friends, your name had been discussed what felt like a million times by the end of the week.

"So... [Name], eh?" was the first thing Sunghoon said as Riki's camera turned on during their weekly weekend FaceTime calls.

"This is so exciting, Riki," Heeseung said as he joined the call.

"Wait, how do you know her again?" Sunoo's voice cut in. "Sorry, my Wi-Fi is bad. You said you know her from Macro?"

With a little more prying, his friends managed to get a middle-school level confession out of Riki.

"I-I just think she's really pretty, and like, she's really smart," Riki huffed, "I don't think she likes me like that— I've never even spoken to her! Like, I can't talk to women, I straight up am a mess and the other day—oh my god— she looked at me and I think I almost passed out. What do I do? I actually cannot do thi—

".... But you think she's pretty, right?"

And that's how Riki managed to get your phone number. With the help of his friends (that felt more like them feeding into his delusions), he worked up the courage to stutter out a simple question.

And when you smiled, nodding enthusiastically as you typed your contact into his phone, Riki felt his soul leave his body.

So, it wasn’t hard to imagine the havoc that engulfed Jake Sim's house (the place of the sleepover) as Riki's phone pinged, your contact name showing up.

It was already late at night, so the boys were raiding Jake's pantry to get midnight snacks. 

The moment that Riki announced that you had just, in fact, texted him first, everyone stopped in their tracks.

"Oh shit!" Jay shouted as he jumped over Jake's sofa, bowl of cereal still in hand.

The sound of crashing as Heeseung knocked over the ramen cups, as well as cutlery dropping abruptly and cabinets slamming filled the house.

"Oi, don't mess up my kitchen!" Jake yelled as his feet pounded against his stairs, scrambling so fast that he practically glided downstairs. After Jungwon spilled milk on his shirt, he was half-way through putting on a new shirt as he clambered down.

"What did she—" Sunoo pushed Jay out of the way, knocking the older boy over as he plopped down next to Riki on the living room carpet and peeked over his shoulder— "What did she say?!"

Within seconds, all six of his friends were huddled around Riki, pushing each other out of the way to catch a glimpse of what you said.

"Move your fatass head!"

"I can't see!"

As his friends argued, Riki stared at his phone, chewing on his bottom lip. His heart was pounding in his chest. He only saw the notification, and didn't see what you said yet.

What if you said something crazy, like "I just found out about that one time in first grade when you peed yourself at the playground" even though Riki and all his friends agreed to never speak of that incident again?! Or, what if you confessed your everlasting love for him in a long paragraph?

His head was spinning.

"Wait, did you open the message yet?!" Jungwon abruptly yelled into Riki's ear.

"No..." Riki answered slowly, watching the way all of his friends' once tense faces soften with relief.

"Oh my god," Jake sighed in relief.

"Phhhhheeewww!" Heeseung said dramatically.

"Why?" Riki frowned. "What's wrong with opening the message?"

"[Name] can see if you read her message if you open it," Sunghoon said matter-of-factly. 

"Why is that a bad thing?"

All of his friends groaned.

They taught him a trick: swipe just enough so that he could see the message, but not enough that the system marks it as read.

Hey, was all you said, much to Riki's relief.

"What do I say?" Riki asked, clutching his phone. His eyes flickered to his friends as he sucked his bottom lip under his teeth pensively. "How do I respond to this?"

"Just say 'hey' back!" Jay blurted.

"No!" Heeseung shook his head profusely. "Anything but that!"

"Why not? You want him to say haiiii instead?" Sunghoon nudged the older boy.

"No, no, no!" Jungwon reached across to smack Sunghoon's knee. "All of you are wrong."

Jungwon turned to Riki. "Just respond with an emoji."

They all groaned loudly.

"Okay, anything but a goddamn emoji!"

Riki ended up typing out a simple hey in response. He had to make Sunoo press send for him, squeezing his eyes shut. Riki immediately shut his phone off, placing it face down.

"I don't want to see if she responds or not!" Riki moaned. 

Within a minute or two, his phone pinged again.

"She responded!"

Even though you only asked, How was your day?, the entire house was once again invigorated. The boys shrieked, whooping and hitting Riki's shoulder, so loud that the house probably shook.

"Oh my god, it's happening!"

"Ouuuuu, she wants you, Riki!"

"Everyone shut the fuck up, it's time to lock in, oh my god it's actually happening—"

And just as everyone settled back down, ready to give Riki their mind-blowing advice, his phone dinged again.

[Attachment: 1 photo]. It was a silly picture of you, one of those cute ones that showed your eyes, clearly taken on the spot. 

"OHHHHHHHHHH!"

"Shewantsyousobadohmygo—"

According to Jake, if a girl sends you a picture of herself, no matter how silly or cute it is, she is head over heels for you.

"One message at a time!" Jay yelled over Jake's shoulder as they tried to figure out how to respond. "You need to answer her question first and then respond to the picture!"

"No! Don't respond to the picture!" Sunghoon, who was all the way in the guest bathroom, yelled from behind the bathroom door, his voice both booming and muffled. "She'll think you're weird!"

"I agree," Sunoo said.

"I agree," Jungwon mocked him in a nasally voice, earning a slap to the shoulder. "Just heart the picture!"

But their arguing fell upon deaf ears.

"Riki, what are you doing?!"

Riki was on his own, his heart beating at the tip of his fingers.

I hung out with my friends today and it was fun, how was yours? was his first response. Pressing on the picture, he responded, You look cute.

When Riki glanced over at his friends, they were sprawled across the floor, crying aloud dramatically.

"It's over."

"You're insane."

"Fumbled."

Riki threw a pillow at them. "I didn't fumble— Oh shoot, she's typing!"

The house was once again filled with screaming and crashing as they scampered to Riki's side.

You typed for a few moments. Everyone was at the edge of their seat, simply begging to see how you'd respond. But then, you stopped.

"Good game, guys."

"100% over."

Riki chewed on his thumb, his eyes glued to his phone screen. Did he creep you out? Was it weird for him to say that you looked cute? Did he fuck up?

But then you finally replied.

My day was just filled with homework, very boring, you replied. Maybe if I spent it with you it would have been more fun.

Oh.

My.

God.

Riki's hands shook as he typed back another response, completely ignoring the complete and utter disaster around him. He didn't know what came over him. He wouldn't say any of the things that he typed out loud, let alone to your face. It was like he was possessed by some spirit that gave him the courage to type. Without even noticing it, his heart was palpitating in his chest, his entire face, neck, and ears covered in a red shade.

I'm free tomorrow, he typed. 

"RIKI WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU—"

Okay, you simply responded. 12PM. The Block. Let's have fun.

"D-Did she just ask you out?"

Riki glanced at this phone, then at his friends, who stared at him with eyes as wide as saucers and their jaws dropped to the floor, then back at his phone. He blinked. "Yeah."

"Yes?!"

Riki blinked again. "Yeah."

.

.

.

And then it hit him.

"Oh my god, [Name] asked me out...!"

[puckinghischier]

I can just imagine doing a “soft launch” with Nico and him not understanding the concept of it and posting just a picture that’s very much you and the teams gc blowing up giving him shit

when you opened the burst of notifications suddenly flooding your phone, you’re confused. sure, you had just posted a soft launch of nico on your account, but you didn’t expect this kind of reaction to it, most of your close friends and family already knowing about him.

when you open the instagram app, though, you see none other than a post from your oh so sweet boyfriend, your smiling face next to his looking right back at you. his comments are full of fans talking back and forth about who you are and where you came from. you noticed the sudden influx of followers to your account, quickly switching your profile to private before any more make their way through.

the two of you had discussed doing a soft launch last night, agreeing that now is the time to do it, seeing as you’re getting pretty serious. you thought nico understood the concept, but bless his heart, he didn’t.

he had posted one of the most recent pictures the two of you had taken together. you were standing nestled close to him in front of the large tree at rockefeller center just across the bridge, big, loving smiles on both of your faces. the icing on the cake, though? he tagged you in the picture.

you noticed a few of his teammates in the comments, cheering the new relationship on and congratulating him for making it social media official.

ones such as timo, jack, and jesper, however, were poking fun at him. the three of them were the first of nico’s teammates you ever met, so you feel a bit closer to them than some of the others. you had actually crashed their lunch yesterday, joining the four hockey players for a quick cafe meal in-between practices.

they were included in your conversation, asking them their opinion and if it was too soon. when they all gave you their approval you continued the conversation with nico later that night, setting the plan into motion.

jack’s comment read “wow cap, this launch was about as soft as a rock,” while timo’s was along the lines of “soft on the ice, but not on the launches.”

jesper’s was a bit more to the point, simply stating “you’re not supposed to tag her, dumbass.”

before you could read any further comments, your screen was taken over by an incoming call from none other than your new instagram official boyfriend.

“sweetheart, i fucked up. i’m so sorry. i should have asked what you meant last night, but i thought we were just posting about each other. i had no clue it was supposed to be secretive and clever. you should have just told me what to post, now-“

“nico, neeks, calm down. take a breath, it’s fine,” you laugh at his rambles, interrupting his spiral that started the second you answered the phone, not even getting to say hello.

“you’re…not mad?” he stops mid-sentence, confused at your lack of fury at his mistake.

“no, i’m not mad. even if it did cause my phone to nearly crash because of how many notifications were coming through, it was cute,” you smile through your sentence, even though he can’t see you.

“oh…well….i guess i didn’t need to leave practice early then, huh?” he tells you, right as you hear the door open to your apartment, nico standing there with the key you gave him in hand.

you hang up your phone, standing from your couch and walking over towards him.

“why in the world would you leave practice early for something as silly as this?” you stand with your hands on your hips, looking at him disapprovingly.

he doesn’t meet your eye, seeming bashful all of a sudden. “well…if you were going to yell at me i would rather have had you do it in person, that way i could kiss you and tell you i loved you in person instead of over the phone,” he tells you honestly, looking like a little boy getting scolded by his parents.

rolling your eyes at him, you walk over and run your hands through his hair, letting your hands stop at the nape of his neck, arms resting on his shoulders as he looks down at you.

“well i’m not mad, but you can still kiss me and tell me you love me, since the entire state of new jersey—well, the united states and most of switzerland, probably—knows now,” you poke fun at him, scratching the bottom of his scalp while his arms come to circle around your waist.

smirking down at you, he meets your lips in a sweet kiss, barely able to savor it before his phone starts buzzing like crazy in his pocket, distracting both of you.

“now listen, i know i don’t have that many followers to freak out about my new hockey star boyfriend, so who’s blowing your phone up?” you pull back from the kiss, looking down at where his phone rests in the pocket of his sweats.

he pulls the device out, bringing it over so both of you can look at it. you see the messages continue to come through, the same name being seen on all of them: “the handsome devils”.

“that’s your groupchat name? the handsome devils? how original” you laugh at the team’s lack of creativity.

“it was jack’s idea,” nico shrugs, the explanation making perfect sense.

you can hardly read the messages because they’re coming in so fast, but you catch a few.

“nico, do we need to host an instagram class in lieu of practice one day?” dougie offers his admin skills to his captain.

“cap, even i know that soft launch means partial, not a full face shot,” followed by “i didn’t mean that the way that sounded, jack, don’t laugh,” from curtis, and then a “HAHAHA” from jack.

“does this mean i have to start calling her mom?” from luke was the last one you saw before looking up at nico, his furrowed brow showing his annoyance with his teammates.

you reach up to smooth the wrinkle between his full brows, leading him to look up at you instead of his phone.

“nico, they’re just poking fun. they all mean well,” you assure him, taking the still buzzing phone from his hands.

he pouts at you anyways, huffing out a sigh. “i just…felt really bad about all of this and they were all laughing at me when i was rushing out of the locker room, worried you were about to break up with me.”

you can’t help but let out your own laugh, finding it comical he actually thinks you would break up with him. his pout deepens at your laugh, crossing his arms and tucking into himself, yet again looking like a child.

“nico, i’m sorry, i’m not laughing at you, it’s just funny you think i’d break up with you over being too excited to tell people we’re dating and posting one of my favorite pictures of us on your very public instagram,” you assure him, untucking his arms from themselves and placing them back around your waist.

he lets himself relax a bit, getting comfortable in his hold on you again. “it is a really good picture of us, isn’t it?” he asks, looking down at you.

you nod your head yes, humming out a “mhmmm” before standing on your tip toes and pressing a kiss to his nose.

“now, why don’t we go make ourselves comfortable on the couch, order food, and think of snarky comebacks to send to your teammates for making fun of you?” you suggest, causing his face to light up.

“i knew i loved you for a reason,” he says enthusiastically, taking your arm and dragging you over towards the couch.

[enwoso]

Can you do one where Tiny gets tackled at football badly and Less has to stop Leah fighting a 4 year old and the ref 🤣

NOT ON MY WATCH | alessia russo x child!reader x leah williamson

grumpy masterlist | something extra

saturday mornings were always a whirlwind of activity in the russo household. the crisp air, the smell of freshly cut grass and the distant sound of cheering were the hallmark of football day.

as always on a saturday morning, alessia alongside leah for swapping their football boots for warm coats and gloves as they stood on the sidelines of a football pitch clutching warm drinks as they watched you play in your mini five aside game.

you'd always inherit your mummy's love for the game, you basically eat, sleep and breath football. granted it took a little more persuasion with the help of your little furry friend, benny the hamster, that leah pulled through with much to alessia dislike as to how much she could now hear that stupid hamster wheel through the night.

but nevertheless you were running up and down the pitch in your red and white predator boots with a determined expression painted across your face as you chased the ball with fierce concentration.

alessia beamed with pride every time you got involved in the action it much better to see you actually play than to pick the daisy's out the ground...

whereas leah, as always the competitive one was practically coaching you from the sidelines.

"come on tiny! push up! get to the ball!" leah shouted her voice louder than most of the parents as she flapped her arms around to show her intentions.

alessia nudged leah who was standing next to her, grinning, "relax babe, she's four. she's there to have fun. she's not playing for the lionesses" alessia teased.

"yet! she's not playing for them yet. but the little one has got talent! i'm just giving her a helping hand to help her reach her full potential." leah shot back with a smirk as she went back to yelling and flapping her arms around like a bird.

the game was fast paced and you were holding your own until, out of nowhere one the kids on the opposing team went in hard for the ball.

it wasn't a cleaner challenge by all means, it was a full on clumsy tackle. you went flying, landing in a heap on the grass.

alessia felt her heart stop as her throat went dry for a minute. you sat up, your bottom lip trembling as you looked around in confusion before bursting into tears.

alessia immediately moved to step forward but she wasn't quick enough. leah was already on the field pointing her finger as her face was filled with fury.

"leah!" alessia hissed, chasing after her.

leah stormed over to the child responsible, who was all of four years old and looked slightly alarmed as leah folded her arms across her chest.

"oi! what was that? you can't just go tackling people like that! she's tiny!" leah said her voice filled with authority as you were being helping back to your feet by your teammates.

the little boy in question who was now definitely regretting his decision blinked up at leah, wide eyed. "it- it was an accident" he squeaked.

"an accident? that didn't look like an accident to me!" leah shot back as she pointed dramatically to you as you were being comforted by your coach.

the referee, a teenager who looked like he'd much rather be anywhere else and most definitely just there for the few extra bucks it gave him, hurried over. "um excuse me, miss, you can't just-"

"and you!" leah spun on her heel, the little boy rushing off as leah cut the ref off mid sentence. "are you even watchin' the game? that was a clear foul! your supposed to protect the players you know!"

the referee's face flushed. "it's just a kids game miss. calm down-"

"calm down?! my girlfriend's daughter has just been basically flattened! how am i supposed to-"

"leah williamson!!" alessia interrupted, grabbing leah by the arm and pulling her back. "the kids four. your yelling at a four year old and the ref too. seriously?"

leah blinked, suddenly aware of the scene she was causing. parents on the sidelines were staring, some trying their best not to laugh, others looking concerned. alessia dragging leah off the pitch as she stopped back at their place on the sidelines looking the girl in the eye.

"babe, i know your upset. but lovies fine. she's tough, just like her mum." alessia said her voice calming but also firm. "let it go before you end up banned from mini-football and end up being slagged off in the parents groupchat."

leah hesitated, glancing back at the little boy who looked like he may start crying at any moment and then to the referee who was trying to organise the game so the restart could happen as he was probably wishing he had never agreed to the job.

finally leah sighed and nodded as her shoulders relaxed. "fine," she muttered, allowing alessia to hand her back her cup of coffee she's palaces down on the grass in a hurry. "but if he tackles her again, i'm not holding back."

"easy tiger. now we're gonna watch the rest of the game quietly, okay?" alessia said seriously trying her best to hide her grin.

leah held her hands up in surrender, "i'll be good. promise"

meanwhile you were back in your feet, your tears long gone as you wiped your face with the back to your hands and rejoined the game with the same determined energy you'd had before. alessia pointing you out to leah.

"see? she's already back out there. she's fine."

leah sighed, a small smile tugging at her lips. "yeah she's a little fighter. guess she doesn't need me losing my head for her."

"exactly, save yourself the trouble of the names you'd be called in the parents groupchat.." alessia trailed off a teasing smirk as leah shot her an intrigued look.

"like what?"

alessia waved it off as leah tried to get an answer from her but alessia stayed tight lipped, "besides, your scary enough to keep an entire under 5s team in line."

leah laughed, wrapping an arm around alessia's waist as they watched you chase the ball down the field, "scary? nah, just protective."

alessia smiled as she leant into her girlfriend, "she's lucky to have you."

"and you," leah replied, kissing alessia's temple.

the game ended with your team celebrating the their victory. you running over to them with your signature grin as you held up your little trophy, as well as a participation medal as your mummy scooped you up in her arms showering you with kisses as leah ruffled your hair.

"oh lovie you were so good out there, me and le are so proud of you." alessia grinned as she placed you back on the ground as you immediately went to take your shin pads out your socks.

"our little superstar, you were brilliant!" leah smiled ruffling your hair once again as you passed your shin pads to your mummy to hold along with your trophy.

"thanks!" you giggled, then looking up to leah your expression changing to a more serious look, "why were you shouting at the boy and the ref?"

alessia raised an eyebrow a teasing grin on her lips as she waited for leah to explain herself. leah scratched the back of her neck sheepishly. "uh, just.. makin' sure they know not to mess with you.."

you titled your head, "oh okay. but i can do that you know!"

alessia smile changed to a proud one as she nudged leah as a small giggled left her lips as she reached down to kiss your cheek, "see, that's my girl!"

[reiding-writing]

hiii, i hope you're well! i saw that you are taking requests for spencer and i really like your angst fics so i was wondering if you could write one with unrequited love?

preferably bau!reader who has feelings for him but he doesn't and she watches him get with someone else and everybody knows how she feels about him but he is oblivious, ending is up to you but i love me a sad ending heheh 😸

transgression [ s.r ]

You’re in love with Spencer Reid. He’s in love with somebody else.

WARNINGS: SPOILERS FOR THE ENTIRE MAEVE ARC, LOTS of misunderstanding, Spencer is kind of a bad friend, lots of arguing, major character death

spencer reid x gn!reader || ANGST || 8.2k || masterlist!!

a/n: sorry for the delay, but i did warn you it was gonna be long so- also i listened to ceilings on repeat whilst writing this so take that as you will 🫶

did i bend the maeve arc to my will for this fic? yes. yes i did.

taglist (slashed blogs couldn’t be tagged): @babyspiderling @marsxoxo2 @vytvyvy @hpstuff244444 @frostooo @ohmysw33 @radioactiveinvisible @devilsadvcte @the-local-pendeja @kakashis-formal-simp @robinswrld

You suppose you did it to yourself.

Spencer’s migraines had gotten increasingly worse over the last few months, and after a few consecutive days of hounding him, he’d finally decided to go and see a medical professional about it.

You’d expected him to come back with news about how his brain stem was too active from how hard he was working himself, or that he’d managed to raise his blood pressure to an unhealthy high from all the stress he was under.

Instead he’d told you that they couldn’t find anything physically wrong with him and that he’d been referred to a geneticist to check if the cause of his sudden mind-numbing aching was due to an underlying condition that might have been passed down from his mother.

He’d come back and forth to you for weeks about his phone calls with the doctor.

How she was helping him with his sleep deprivation.

How she was helping to manage his diet.

How she loved classic literature.

How she and him had spent four consecutive hours on the phone debating over the logistics of a novel they both enjoyed.

You could see the change happening before your eyes, and you weren’t the only one either.

“Pretty boy’s chipper this morning,” Morgan joins you at the kitchenette, his eyes following Spencer as he takes a seat at his desk with all of the enthusiasm of a golden retriever puppy who’d been let off his leash for the first time.

You hum with a nod, focusing your attention on the two cups of coffee you were making, heaping tablespoons of sugar into Spencer’s Doctor Who mug to satisfy his insatiable need for sweetness. “They’re reading a book together,”

“Really?” You respond to Morgan’s raised eyebrow with a short nod and another hum.

“Thoughts in Solitude by Thomas Merton, apparently she finds the religious analysis ‘fascinating’,” You can’t help the small contemptment that seeps into your tone as you reiterate what Spencer had told you to Morgan, and you can practically feel his pitiful gaze as he watches you make your coffee.

“I’ve heard of that book before from somewhere,”

“I tried to get him to read it a few months ago,” You take a sip of your coffee at the end of your sentence, barely able to taste it over the scolding water but not finding the mind to care.

You leave your conversation with Morgan at that, taking the two mugs in your hands and walking back into the bullpen, placing Spencer’s mug in front of him and walking around the cluster of desks to reach your own.

He’s sure he doesn’t need to verbalise it, but Morgan feels increasingly sorry for your situation, noting how you skirt past Spencer’s “thank you” without a response as you bury your head in your files.

he can’t imagine how much the fact that Spencer had seemingly formed a crush on his geneticist ripped you apart.

And the worst part? He’d never met her in person.

All scientific laws of attraction be damned, Spencer Reid had fallen in love with someone he’d never met in the span of three months, and you we’re resigning yourself to sit on the sidelines and watch as the man you had been in love with for six years find the happiness that you longed for with somebody else.

How you managed to keep up your facade you didn’t know.

You’d offered him change for the pay phone he’d call her from when he was running short. You’d let him rant to you about her opinions on a novel that you had failed to get him to read. You made excuses for him to leave the office early so that he could spend his time on the phone with her.

You were the one that sent him to the hospital and caused him to meet her in the first place.

He never hesitated to remind you of that fact, thanking you vicariously every time he relayed his conversations with the doctor back to you.

As the weeks progressed he stopped calling her that. She wasn’t ‘the doctor’ anymore. She was Maeve.

He didn’t call you by your first name and you’d known him for ten times longer that he’d known her. He didn’t even call Morgan by his first name and those two were practically brothers.

And that part was probably what hurt the most.

Maeve.

A name of Irish origin meaning ‘intoxicating’. How fitting.

Apparently the Irish goddess of love and desire was named Maeve. You could see the glimmer in Spencer’s eye that told you his Maeve was just as important as the mythological goddess he was describing.

His Maeve.

“So why haven’t you two actually gone on a date or anything?” You take a sip from the mug in your hands, swivelling your chair back and forth with your foot as a pivot. “You’ve been talking for what, four months now? Surely it’s about time you actually met her in person,”

“It’s complicated,” Spencer sighs as he collects the loose papers he was working on in a pile. He didn’t want to divulge Maeve’s issues without her permission.

“You’ve been saying that for the last six weeks Spencer,” You roll your eyes as you discard your half-empty mug on the table. “If I didn’t know any better i’d say you’re putting it off,”

Spencer shook his head adamantly at your suggestion. You couldn’t have been more wrong. He did want to meet her. Desperately. He’d wanted to meet her since the end of their first phone call. But he also wanted to keep her safe.

How do you meet up with somebody who’s hiding from a stalker without endangering them?

“I do want to meet her. It’s just- she’s dealing with something personal and it’s put a rift our plans, that’s all,”

“So it’s her not wanting to meet up with you then?” You raise an eyebrow at him over your desks.

“Look it’s- You don’t get it okay? It was a mutual understanding from both of us.” You can hear Spencer’s tone become more defensive as you spoke, and you raised both of your hands in surrender.

“Okay, i’m sorry for prying-” You ended your apology with a laugh, trying to keep the conversation lighthearted despite feeling your heart deflate in your chest at the way the friendliness his his eyes fizzled out the longer you looked at him.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Spencer’s late to work this morning.

It’s 8:06 when he finally walks through the glass doors, the coffee you made him stone cold after sitting lamely on his desk for the better part of twenty minutes. He doesn’t so much as offer an apology as he picks up the mug and makes his way over to the kitchenette to pour the coffee down the sink.

You follow behind him in a mix of intrigue and a want to refill your own mug, swilling it out with some water as you watch Spencer load a coffee pod into the machine. “Phone call last longer than you expected?”

“Hm? Oh- yeah, we were discussing the literary analysis of Annabelle Lee,” Spencer’s demeanour seems to brighten immediately once he’s given an opportunity to discuss the details of his phone call with Maeve, although the beginning of his ramble is quickly cut off by the beeping of the coffee machine.

You wait patiently for his coffee to finish before you begin making yours, raising an eyebrow as Spencer pulls out a regular teaspoon instead of the usual tablespoon he’d incorrectly use to load his coffee with sugar.

Your intrigue only heightened when he pulled a carton of milk from the mini-fridge. Not even normal milk. Soy milk.

“Since when do you drink coffee like a normal person?”

His eyes flickered from his mug to your face as he tipped a single teaspoon of sugar into his drink before replacing the bag back where it came from. “It’s a part of my managed diet, Maeve thinks that my increased sugar intake might be one of the risk factors for my headaches,”

“Did she tell you to put soy milk in it too?” You don’t know why you have the urge to be petty, Spencer had long since needed to change his coffee drinking habits for the sake of decreasing his sugar intake and Maeve’s suggestions were beneficial for his health.

It was just the fact that it was her that ticked you off.

“She did actually, it provides the same amount of riboflavin as cow’s milk, which acts as a soothing agent whilst also helping constrict inflamed blood vessels, but without all of the excess fats in regular milk that might make my migraines more frequent, it’s genius really,”

He thought that her ideas were genius. Him. Mr ‘I have three PhDs and an IQ of 187’, thought someone else’s ideas were genius.

You’re sure that he already knew the benefits of milk alternatives, and yet he attributed the ‘revelation’ of what they could do to Maeve. Of course he did.

“When was the last time you made a decision for yourself?” The question comes out much harsher than you intend it to, and you can tell by the way Spencer furrows his eyebrows that he’s taken offence to it.

“Sorry, that came out wrong,” No it didn’t. “I’m just a little surprised that someone as independent as you is so… willing to follow blind instructions,” Your attempt at saving yourself half-works, that wrinkle between his eyebrows disappears and you can see that the glimmer in his eyes is returning slowly.

“She’s a doctor, of course i’m going to follow her suggestions,”

You give him a soft nod as you pick up your mug from under the coffee machine. “Yeah, no, that makes sense, it’s just a little surprising is all,”

You don’t give him a chance to respond to you before you’re walking away from the kitchenette to retake a seat at your desk, fearing you might say something out of pocket if you continue the conversation any longer.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

You were really pissed off now.

You’d arrived back in Quantico three days ago, and you were still piled up to your neck in paperwork.

Maybe you would’ve had it finished by now if Spencer would stop talking about the fact that he was “-finally going to meet Maeve in person,”.

You had half the mind to snap and tell him to just shut up, although by the saving grace of Morgan you thankfully didn’t have to.

“Reid, give their poor ears a break man,” Your thankful for Morgan in times like this. He knew you were knee-deep in your feelings for Spencer, and he knew that every time Spencer so much as spoke Maeve’s name it carved another hairline fracture in your heart.

You were close to shattering, and Morgan could tell.

“Oh- right, sorry,” Spencer offered you an awkward smile which you mirrored back at him.

“It’s alright, don’t worry about it,” You shake your head in a polite dismissal of his apology before turning your head back down towards your files.

“I take it you’re nervous then?” Alex’s voice cut through the beginning of an awkward tension between the two of you as she entered to bullpen with a cup of coffee in hand.

“Well- I mean- you know…” Upon being unable to find a sufficient response, Spencer resorts to shrugging into his chair. “I just don’t want to ruin anything,”

“But aren’t you curious what she looks like?” Alex raises an eyebrow with concern like Spencer was he son going on his first ever date.

“it doesn’t matter what she looks like I mean- she’s already the most beautiful girl in the world to me it’s just-”

You don’t stick around to hear the rest of the conversation.

You sudden upheaval from your desk stops Spencer’s sentence as his eyes follow you across the bullpen and out of the glass doors, followed shortly by Morgan as he jogs after you.

“Hey- Wait up a minute-” Morgan catches your arm before you have a chance to get in the elevator, and as you turn your eyes towards him he can see the beginnings of tears forming in your eyes.

“I don’t know how much longer I can do this..”

Morgan can do nothing more than pull your head into his shoulder and wrap his arms tightly around your back with a soft mutter of your name. “I know kid, I know…”

“He thinks she’s the most beautiful girl in the world,” You turn your head up from Morgan’s shoulder to meet his eyes, a single stray tear cascading down your cheek, illuminated under the florescent lights. “How am I supposed to compete with that..?”

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Incidentally, Spencer’s date with Maeve didn’t end up happening. Conflicting work schedules or something, you weren’t really listening.

Maybe all of your subconscious thoughts had leaked into reality and finally gave you momentary release from the crushing defeat of having Spencer go on a date with someone else.

Maybe it was them punishing you further by forcing you to sit through him rant about the book she’d left him at the front of the restaurant.

It didn’t help that you already had a headache that made it feel like your eye sockets were being kicked by an annoying kid sat behind you on an aeroplane, leaving a dull ache in it’s wake and making you just want to bury yourself in a hole and hibernate.

“And right at the back she wrote ’Love is our true destiny. We do not find the meaning of life by ourselves alone; we find it with another’ it’s a quote from-”

“Thomas Merton. Yeah, I know.” You dig the knuckle of your left thumb into cavity of your eye socket over your closed eyelid, hoping to relieve some of the tension that’s lingering there and disrupting your thoughts.

“Thomas Merton’s ‘Love and Living’ specifically,” If Spencer noticed your discomfort he didn’t acknowledge it. “It’s a collection of his essays on the importance of love to live, so for her to have written it specifically knowing that I would read it means-”

“Reid.”

Your tone stops him from continuing any further, and he blinks at you with that sweet puppy-dog expression that would usually have you weak at the knees.

“No offence, but I don’t care about your over-the-phone girlfriend or the quote that she wrote in your book.” Your tone carried a harshness to it that Spencer wasn’t used to hearing from you. It was cold and detached and not like you at all.

“Are- you okay?”

“No, Reid, I’m not, and if you’d bothered to ask about my life every once in a while instead of using me like a human diary maybe you would’ve realised that already.”

You practically slam your file closed as you speak, pushing your chair out from your desk and leaving him sat in shock at your sudden change in attitude.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

After a bit of introspection, Spencer did realise that he hadn’t been treating you very fairly. He hadn’t asked you how your life had been in 3 months and 26 days. Four of those days he’d spent in damn near radio silence. He wasn’t sure he could take it much longer.

He missed you.

It was a bit ironic considering you sat directly opposite him for almost eight hours a day five days a week, but after you’d snapped at him last week, he truly realised just how much of his day he spent socialising with you, and just how much he missed talking to you.

So he decided that he was going to apologise.

And what better form of an apology for being dismissive of your feelings than putting a personal effort into something for you.

He walked into the office that morning with a leather bound copy of The Parasite by Arthur Conan Doyle stored cautiously in his messenger bag, pages scrawled with annotations from Spencer’s own reading of the novel that he hoped would be insightful to you as you read it yourself.

He’d remembered you saying how much you wanted to read the novel a few months ago, so he figured giving it to you as a personalised apology would show that he really did care about you and had listened to what you’d told him.

“Are you busy?” Spencer asks, though he already knows the answer to the question.

He’d been watching you from the other side of the room all morning, hoping for a moment or two of eye contact to see if there was a possibility of a conversation. A look from one to the other; even a smile would’ve been enough to make him feel validated and content. And he would have been willing to settle for that.

But you never looked up. Not even once.

"Mhm," You continue to not spare Spencer so much as glance as he speaks, turning over the page of the file you were working through.

“Can I take a minute of your time?” He tried to catch your gaze again, only to be met by your continued focus on your work. The last thing he wanted to do was disrupt your work routine, but he also knew that he needed to talk to you sooner rather than later.

“Please,” he said softly. “It’s important.”

You exhale heavily through your nose, exasperation written clearly in your expression as you leave your pen as a page marker to close the manilla folder on your desk. You turn your head upwards, raising an eyebrow and opening your hands to agitatedly indicate for him to continue.

You wouldn’t lie and say that it didn’t hurt being so openly cold towards Spencer, but you’d reached a breaking point, and you couldn’t bare sitting idly on the sidelines and letting him tear your heart to pieces anymore.

Spencer was relieved that you’d granted him your attention, but the look you directed towards him was enough to make him wince. You weren’t looking at him through a lens of indifference but rather cold, hard disappointment.

He took a deep breath, trying to gather the right words for what he had to say.

“I’m sorry,”

He seemed almost breathless as he spoke, like he’d just finished a tangent about something without taking the time to breathe. “I know that I’ve been spending too much time talking about Maeve and not enough paying attention to you.”

"You don’t say," You mutter the words under your breath to yourself, but your sure that Spencer heard you based on the way his eyebrows knit and the small gleam of hope in his eyes dwindles to barely a flicker.

He was trying not to react to your snide comment. Spencer knew that your tone didn’t leave any room to deny your meaning. He’d been selfish in talking exclusively about his relationship and hadn’t realised how it was affecting you.

“I’m sorry,” Spencer repeated. “You mean so much to me and I haven’t been showing that.”

"Thank you," Your thanks are polite but dismissive, like you were acknowledging his apology but choosing to not actually consider it as one, and it left Spencer with an expression of clear frustration.

He was used to being able to read your facial expressions and emotions in the past, but now you were just an unreadable wall of disappointment. He had hoped the apology would've been enough, but it was clear that you weren’t going to let him off that easily.

Time to pull out the last resort.

He bent over and fumbled with his bag for a few moments before pulling out the novel he’d brought with him face up.

“I uh… got you this,” He holds out the book towards you. “You said you wanted to read it right? So I uh.. annotated it for you to make it more enjoyable,”

You take the novel from him with a raised eyebrow as your eyes scan the cover, a clear flicker of confusion in your expression.

Spencer noticed your expression and furrowed his own brow in confusion. You didn't seem to recognise the book. In fact, the look on your face made him wonder whether you even knew this book existed at all before this moment.

“I hope you… like it,” he said nervously. “I was going off what you'd talked about before. You mentioned the book was a classic?”

"I… have never seen this book in my life,”

“B-But…” Spencer knew this was going to be awkward at some point, but he'd hoped not this early into the conversation. He could feel his cheeks burning from embarrassment, and it was only getting worse as he searched your face for an answer to this awkward situation.

“I… swear I heard you mention it once.”

You give him a short shake of your head and a pursed smile of awkward thanks as you put the book down on your desk.

Spencer looked away, embarrassed beyond belief. He hadn't even been able to deliver an apology properly, let alone make you feel special like he'd originally intended to.

How had he gotten it wrong? He had an eidetic memory for god’s sake.

When you put the book down on your desk, his eyes flicked back to the book. He'd spent almost 4 hours annotating and researching it and now it felt like all that effort had been wasted.

If you hadn’t mentioned it then who had? Someone must’ve. Someone he obviously equated with you to the point where he’d somehow managed to override his eidetic memory to mix the two of you up.

It takes him a few moments before you hear him whisper out a name under his breath, the palm of his hand dragging down the front of his face at the realisation.

"Maeve…"

The mention of her name had your eyes flickering away from the leather cover and right back to Spencer’s face, awkwardness completely rid of your features and replaced with a mix of negativity that Spencer wasn’t sure he wanted to dig into.

"Are you serious?" Your words come out less questioningly and more accusatory, and you hold the book up so that he can see it once more, the gold embossing on the cover glinting under the overhead light as if to only taunt Spencer further for his mistake.

“You apologise for continuously disregarding me for your girlfriend by giving me a book that she showed interest in?”

You could see Spencer's face fall as your words sink in.

He hadn't even taken the time to think over what he was apologising with. It was almost as if his brain automatically just reverted back to his girlfriend's interests as an escape from dealing with his own guilt and sadness.

"Damn it," he whispered to himself. And in that moment he realised he'd just committed the biggest crime someone could make when trying to apologise.

“Like you constantly flaunting your relationship in my face verbally wasn’t bad enough.”

"I'm sorry I-" he says again, voice teeming with sincerity and guilt.

"You are truly and utterly unbelievable Spencer Reid." Your words didn’t carry anger as much as they did disappointment, and he could see the astoundment in your eyes as you pushed your chair backwards to stand, dropping the book straight in the trash bin by your desk before walking off.

It’s where it belongs; Right alongside the small sliver of respect you still had for him.

Spencer could've said so much more: he could've admitted how ashamed he felt for his careless actions and he could've apologised again and again a million times if it meant you'd stick around and give him a chance to make it up to you.

But you had already made it clear that you weren't in the right state of mind to discuss this matter further.

The best thing he could do now was give you space as he watched you walk away, a deep pain in his heart that slowly ate him alive from the inside.

He’d well and truly fucked up.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“Oh sweetheart, what’s wrong?” You were bordering tears by the time you reached Garcia’s office, unintentionally interrupting her lunch break with Alex in the process, though the two seemed to care less about the interruption and more about the fact that you liked like you were about to cry your eyes out.

You take in a sharp breath through your nose as you try to tape together the cracks in your composure, although with every one you seal three more seem to appear in it’s place.

“I-” You can barely get the first word out before the tears start rolling down your face, and Alex immediately stands from her seat to guide you to sit in her place.

“Hey, you’re alright, slowly,” Alex’s hands find your shoulders and rub reassuring circles against your shirt. The slow breath you take in doesn’t stop the flood of tears that’s blurring your vision, and you only manage to get out a single word, but it’s all the two need to understand what’s got you so overwhelmed.

“Spencer-”

“I swear I am two seconds away from smacking that boy over the back of the head,” You can hear the clear frustration in Garcia’s tone. “Surely he’s got to realise how much he’s hurting you by now,”

“He does… I lashed out at him and then left to come here…” You rub your eyes with the back of your hand alongside a small sniffle, trying to rid your vision of it’s blurriness from your tears.

“Good, the boy deserves to have some sense knocked into him,” You appreciate Garcia taking your side, but you can’t help that small lingering feeling of guilt that invades the back of your mind.

“He’s just in love, it’s not his fault…” The words almost physically pain you to say. The verbal acceptance that Spencer Reid was indeed in love with somebody. Somebody who wasn’t you.

“That doesn’t mean that he should be disregarding you though sweetheart,” Alex’s tone is soft and almost maternal, and your sure that it doesn’t help how emotional you are.

Garcia’s right hand reaches forward to straighten out the collar of your shirt, unintentionally crumpled as you try to wipe your face of your emotions. “You’re his friend, and you have been his friend for longer than he’s known this girl he’s talking to, it’s not fair for him to completely push you to the side,”

Garcia was right. It’s not fair. Nothing about how Spencer had been treating you since he’d started speaking to Maeve had been fair. And you were done making excuses for the boy just because you knees deep in your feelings for him.

You didn’t deserve to feel guilty. You didn’t deserve to feel bad for lashing out at Spencer for apologising for not showing interest in your life by further proving just how little he’d actually payed attention to you. You didn’t deserve to cry because he was the most stupid genius to ever live and couldn’t see that you were hopelessly in love with him. You didn’t deserve to suffer by his hand.

It wasn’t fair.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“Maeve’s been kidnapped.”

You have to consciously suppress the small voice in the back of your head that celebrates the possibility that she might not be a part of Spencer’s life for much longer. It’s a horrible thought. You should never wish ill upon anyone, no matter how much you internally despised them.

Still, that part of you that was still petty, that was still infuriated with Spencer and Maeve, wanted you to tell Spencer straight to his face that you weren’t going to help him find her and that it was karma for how he’d treated you.

But you weren’t a bad person.

As much as you might hate her, she was still important to Spencer.

“I have a wealth of knowledge i should be applying to this case, but- i can’t focus on anything for more than four seconds at a time… which makes me the dumbest person in the room-” Spencer’s eyes are full of desperation as they scan across your teammates.

“So please help me… Please help me find her…” The desperation in his voice is heartbreaking, the remnants of tears staining his face as he explains the context of the situation through broken sentences.

“We don’t have an official case, so we’ll be working on personal time,” Hotch’s voice is much quieter than you’re used to. Softer, more considerate. “Does anybody want to leave?”

You can feel his eyes linger on you as he asks the question, and you subconsciously purse your mouth into a tight line to stop yourself from impulsively pulling out of the investigation.

You might be detrimentally frustrated with him, but you did want to help. Even if it ultimately resulted in your downfall.

Hotch gave you a short nod before turning to the rest of the team. “Good, let’s get to work,”

It didn’t take Garcia very long to track Maeve down, mostly attributed to her unique name and specialised job.

Dr. Maeve Donovan, a professor at Mendel University who took a sabbatical leave 10 months ago.

The group split into different groups once they’d found her, JJ and Morgan heading off to a loft her parents owned, Alex and Rossi heading to the lab she used to work at, and you and Hotch, accompanied by Spencer, going to speak to Maeve’s parents.

“Reid,” Garcia’s tone is soft as she looks over her laptop screen towards him as he begins to stand from the conference table. “I have a picture of her, do you want to know what she looks like?”

“No,”

Spencer’s answer is immediate, joined by a shake of his head.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

You and Spencer watched from behind the one way mirror as the interview progressed.

They’d last spoken to Maeve five days ago. Her mother had cancer. She was also a geneticist. They were suspicious of her ex fiancé Bobby.

Her fiancé?

You can see Spencer’s face drop at the words despite the low lighting in the room, and you can’t help but furrow your eyebrows yourself.

She had a fiancé?

Spencer practically storms out of the office after the questioning is over, and Hotch has to remind him to calm down as they reach the apartment of Robert Putnam with Morgan and Rossi in tow.

When the door opens the five of you aren’t greeted by Robert, but rather a girl, a girl who looked very confused.

You invite yourselves inside at the girl’s recognition that Robert was inside the apartment.

“And who are you?”

“I’m Diane, his girlfriend,” She raised an eyebrow as the five of you looked around, confusion cut short as Robert rounds the corner questioning the sudden voices coming from his living room.

“Hey babe what’s-“

“Robert Putnam, FBI we’d like to-” Spencer’s voice cuts him off harshly as he rushes to speak, although he stops his sentence halfway as a flicker of recognition falls across his features and his anger turns to dread.

“Hey, I know you,” Robert doesn’t have the time to say anything else to Spencer before Hotch forces him out of the room, shutting the door behind him to speak to Spencer privately whilst you Morgan and Rossi remained inside.

Hotch returned a few minutes later. Spencer didn’t.

You end up taking Hotch’s place as you push yourself out of the apartment with a small “excuse me,” to follow after Spencer as he walks out of the apartment building.

“Spencer- wait up a minute-”

He doesn’t stop at your call, and you’re practically running down the stairs by the time you get to him, already out of the front doors of the apartment building.

“Hey-” You take a second to catch your breath before turning your eyes back towards him again. “Are you alright?”

You could see the flicker of confusion in his eyes as he met your gaze.

The last time you spoke to him you threw away any remnant of your friendship with him in the bin alongside the book he’d given you, and now here you were, chasing after him to make sure that he was okay.

“Why did you agree to help?”

Your face falls from concern to surprise at his question, and he takes it as a sign to continue.

“I know that you don’t like her, so why are you here?” You could see the beginnings of tears forming in his eyes, clearly overwhelmed with how the investigation was going.

“She’s important to you Spencer. Like her or not I care about you. So therefore I care about her,” You don’t think as you speak, words spilling out of your mouth with no conscious filter.

“I’m sorry.” Spencer’s apology elicits a sigh from your mouth, and you shake your head softly at him.

“Forget it, let’s focus on getting Maeve home safe alright?” He obliges to your request with a purse of his lips and a small nod, turning his eyes towards the ground.

“What’re you thinking about?” His eyes fall on yours once more at your question, round with confusion and glistening with the starts of tears. “I can see it in your face, you’re calculating something in your head,”

He exhales through his mouth in a small laugh. You’d always been able to figure him out, and not just because you were a profiler.

“2,412 hours,” His tone is uncertain, mixed between gratefulness for you observance and something far more upsetting. “That’s how long Maeve and I have contacted each other counting letters and phone calls…”

“That’s what-” You take a second to do the calculation in your head. “100 days?”

“100.5…” He runs his hand backwards through his hair, pressing his eyes closed like he’s afraid tears will spill from them if he doesn’t. “What if that’s all I get?”

“It won’t be Spencer…”

“You don’t know that-“

“Yes Spencer, I do,” You have to consciously suppress the sigh that threatens to leave your mouth, pushing your lingering distaste for Maeve down with it. “She is going to be fine, I promise,”

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Turns out Maeve’s ex fiancé wasn’t the stalker. In fact, he was being stalked himself, and whilst JJ and Garcia were looking over the images posted to Robert whilst him and Maeve were still together they discovered something that changed the entire direction of the investigation.

Maeve’s face had scribbled out in eyeliner.

You and the team spent the next thirty minutes rebuilding the profile from the bottom up.

“Celebrity stalkers are usually non violent,”

“You want to tell that to John Lennon Rossi?” Spencer looked up from his lap towards the group at the table, having separated himself from the group to sit on a sofa lining one of the walls so he couldn’t bias the profile.

It wasn’t going too well.

“What was it that Mark David Chapman said after he shot him?” Spencer stood from his seat, anger flaring in his nostrils. “‘It was like all of my nobody-ness and all of his somebody-ness collided’,”

You could hear the rise in his tone as he worked himself up the more he spoke.

“Spencer-“

“Maeve is somebody. And this- bitch is a nobody.”

“Spencer.”

Spencer caught your gaze, and immediately fizzling out of his eyes and replaced with guilt. “I’m sorry- I can’t be very helpful right now I should leave-“

“Yes you can Reid, you have 100.5 days of communication with this girl and a recall everything verbatim,” Morgan’s gaze is entirely concerned with Spencer’s outburst.

“There’s too much of it, and I can’t sort through any of it clearly-“ Spencer is clearly on the edge of breaking, and you can tell he’s not going to be able to keep his composure for much longer.

“Then pick one of us and we’ll go through it with you,” Hotch leaned his elbows against the table, his voice again portraying that soft, parental tone that said he knew how overwhelmed Spencer was getting.

Spencer didn’t even say anything, his eyes just silently flickered over to you and you knew you couldn’t refuse him.

You return his silence as you get up from your seat and pat your hand on his shoulder for the two of you to exit the room together.

Time to torture yourself for the sake of Spencer’s wellbeing.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Diane Turner, a research assistant working for her PhD in the same lab as Maeve. A student who had her thesis rejected because it contained a heavy sample bias that included both of her parents.

It took a while, but Garcia eventually managed to track down a loft that was owned under Diane’s parents’ names, less than 10 minutes away from Maeve’s apartment.

“Take your gun and vest off,” Diane’s voice is harsh through the receiver attached to the front of the building, and Spencer’s eyes flickered up from the silk blindfold in his hands to the metal box.

He doesn’t question the orders as he immediately begins stripping the vest from his torso, dropping it and his gun on the floor.

“Now come in alone.”

“Spencer.” You call out to him as he reaches for the door handle, and he gives you that look that makes your stomach do flips in your torso. Except this time it’s not that pleasant fluttery feeling, but instead an existential dread at the fact that he might not walk out of the building alive.

“I’ll be okay,” He gives you a nod of reassurance as he pushes the door open, and you find yourself clenching your hands around your gun to stop yourself from following after him.

The six of you wait outside for what feels like hours, and you lean back and forth on the balls of your feet as you become increasingly restless with the situation.

Then, a gunshot.

And a second.

And your heart drops in your chest.

You’re not entirely present as you rush into the building with the team following behind you, gun raised at your eyes.

Spencer had to be okay. He had to. He was going to be fine. You were going to walk into that room and he was going to be perfectly fine.

You hoped Maeve was alright too. As much as she was unintentionally causing you literal hell, you knew that she meant everything to Spencer.

You knew that he’d choose her over anything. He’d choose her over you.

And right now you don’t care. You just want him to be okay.

You force the door open to the loft with your foot, gun pointed straight ahead at the first person you see.

“Stay back-“ Spencer practically shouts from where he’s half lying on the floor, right hand clutching tightly at his left bicep, trails of blood cascading down his fingers and onto the floor.

“Stay back stay back don’t shoot-“

You let out an audible sigh at the fact that Spencer wasn’t critically harmed, although upon a whimper of his name from further across the room you turn your eyes up to the noise.

And you finally meet the girl that’s caused you ten months of hell. Held at gunpoint.

That small voice in the back of your head tells you that this might be your chance to finally rid her from your life, to let her succumb to whatever Diane had planned and leave Spencer to you.

But you take one look at the desperation in her eyes and any loathing that remained in your mind immediately fizzled out.

It wasn’t her fault. Of course it wasn’t. She was just a girl that happened to be in love.

“Diane,” Spencer pushes himself to stand, and you can see the pain in his face as he does. “There’s still a way out of this,”

“You never wanted me. Never!” Diane pushes the gun she’s holding hard against Maeve’s neck, and you can see her eyes squeeze closed as she attempts to keep herself from crying. “You lied!”

“I didn’t.”

Spencer shakes his head adamantly, and you glance over at Hotch as you spread across the back of the room, guns raised in Diane’s direction. “Diane, I offered you a deal, and you can still take it,”

“Me for her. Let me take her place,”

You only have a view of the back of Spencer’s head now, but you can tell by the tone of his voice that his expression is a pure display of desperation, one that you’re happy you can’t see because you’d lose your composure in an instant.

“You would do that?” Diane’s question is angry and accusatory, tears rolling down her face as she presses the gun against Maeve’s neck once more.

Spencer nods with no threat in his tone. “Yes,”

“You would kill yourself for her?”

“Yes.”

You practically feel your heart stop.

“Thomas Merton,” Maeve’s voice is almost exactly as you imagined it to be. Soft, smooth and, as Spencer had called it all those months ago, ‘dipped in honey’.

“Who’s Thomas Merton?” Diane’s tone contrasts Maeve’s tenfold, pitchy, uneven and overrun with manic anger.

“He knows,” You can see Maeve’s eyes flicker, and you assume that they meet Spencer’s as his shoulders drop. “He knows.”

“Who’s Thomas Merton?” Diane shakes Maeve in her grasp as if to intensify the urgence of her question, and you tighten your grip on your gun in instinctual response. “Who is he?”

“He’s the one thing you can never take from us,” Maeve’s voice is confident and defiant despite the clear tears in her eyes.

Thomas Merton could’ve been something between Spencer and you.

“No.”

You can see a clear change in Diane’s expression at Maeve’s words, and she lowers the gun from Maeve’s head only to hold it up against her own, staring directly into Spencer’s eyes.

“Wait-”

Spencer barely has time to shout the word before the gun fires, and you flinch at the sound as you watch Maeve and Diane both drop to the floor, dark red blood pooling around the two.

You can feel the tension in the room as everyone computes what just happened, guns lowering slowly as their eyes lock onto the two women on the floor.

You’re not focused on that. You’re focused on the tightness of Spencer’s shoulders as he takes sharp breaths in and out of his nose.

The way he seems to forget about the bullet wound in his arm as his legs give out underneath him.

The way a sob that leaves his mouth despite the fact that he tries to muffle it with his hand.

The way that Spencer broke.

He's crying. Big, heaving, heart-wrenching sobs.

His shoulders are trembling.

His hands are shaking.

His head is hanging downwards so that his hair is covering his face.

You approach him slowly, kneeling down at his side and placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

His eyes slowly shift from Maeve, his sobs only seeming to amplify as he meets your gaze. His eyes are red and closely with tears, his cheeks running hot and his lips trembling.

You don’t speak, knowing that you’ll break if you do. Instead, you guide his head into your shoulder and let him crumble in your arms, grieving the loss of the love of his life.

You’re sure you’re going to cry yourself to sleep when you get home, but right now, you needed to be strong. For him.

“I’m so sorry-“ Spencer speaks through broken sobs as you hold him, the rest of the team moving to secure the scene.

“Shh,” You shake your head against his softly, rubbing the palm of your hand up and down his back as you let him cry until he physically couldn’t anymore.

“I treated you so horribly-“ He pulls away from your shoulder to look into your eyes once more. “I’m so sorry- Please don’t leave me…”

You purse your lips into a line, your expression full of so many emotions Spencer can’t distinguish any of them.

“I’m not going anywhere,” You pull his head back into your shoulder, leaning your head against his. “I promise…”

[mrsmikaelsxn]

Flower Crowns

masterlist

pairing: harry potter x female reader

warnings: kissing, jily 2.0, fluff, flirty harry

summary: you were quite popular among the wizards and witches in the school, you had many admirers but none of them were like harry potter

a/n: harry would honestly be such a perfect boyfriend

song: i was made for lovin’ you - kiss

It was your sixth year at Hogwarts, today was your first day back after summer. Seated at the Slytherin table with some of your friends, you were in a conversation about what everyone did over the summer. 

As you were about to tell them about the trip you took, you hear a throat being cleared from behind you. You turn around as your friends look up and roll there eyes. 

“Hello, darling,” Harry grins while plopping himself on the bench with little room next to you.

“Potter,” you nod looking him over.

“How is it you’ve gotten even more beautiful over the summer,” he sighs dreamily. Your friends moved down the table more since they were tired of this routine. You look at them with betrayal as they just smile and shrug. 

“What is it you came over here for?” you dont know why you bother asking at this point, you already know whats coming. 

“Well, love, I came to ask you if you would go out with me this weekend,” he winks. You glace over his shoulder to see a Hermione sighing and a grinning Ron. 

“Sorry, Potter, but I’m going to have to decline your offer,” you said looking back at him. He’s use to you saying no, like how it has been for the past four years. He still trys all the time, he has never done anything with another person either. He is so set on you being for him that he is disgusted at the thought of being with anyone else that isn’t you. 

In the summer before second year, he went back home and told his parents about you. He would somehow have a way to bring you up everyday, while he blushing thinking about you. James would always grin at Lily while lifting his eyebrows up and down. She would roll her eyes as James starts to tell him about how to get you to take interest in him. 

Taking his dads advice, he would buy you little things at least twice a week, give you compliments every time he saw you, and many more things. 

One time during fourth year, he saw you walking around alone at the Quidditch World Cup. You were in a somewhat long silk green dress that complimented your body perfectly. You had some light makeup and your hair styled back.  He told the Weasleys and Hermione to go on and that he would joining them in a few minutes. 

“Hi, sweetheart,” Harry greets you while letting his eyes roam all over you in adoration. You glance over at him, taking in his messy hair and him in general. You would be lying if you were to say that he was not attractive, anyone could see that. 

“Potter, how are you?” 

“I'm perfect after seeing you, you look stunning” he smiles.

You blushed and looked away trying to hide your light pink cheeks. Although he most definitely saw, he felt like the happiest person ever. This was the first time he was able to make you blush.

“Thank you, I suppose you don’t look bad yourself,” you tell him while the corners of your mouth lift up a bit. 

He could have fainted right there, he started to stutter as he wasn’t expecting that. 

“I best be off, Potter. My family is waiting for me, I’ll see you soon,” you wave at the blushing boy as you start walking back. 

“I- uhm- brilliant!” That day he went to back to the Weasley’s tent as he told them about what happened. They all teased him about his massive crush as was still in a daze. It was truly astonishing how one sentence from you could lead him to act like this. 

Another time was last year, fifth year, when you had gotten detention with Umbridge. You were walking back to the common room with tears stinging your eyes. Umbridge had you stay much longer than you thought because of your “innappropriote behavior”. Apparently, speaking the truth is innappropriote now. As you were turing you almost crashed into someone. You look up to see a worried Harry Potter looking down at you. 

“I’m sorry, Potter. Excuse me,” you excuse yourself trying to go around him. Before you can, he gently grabs your waist and turns you to face him again. 

“Hold on, darling. Why are you crying, did something happen?” 

You couldn’t hold in the pain anymore. You started crying while grabbing onto Harry. His arms quickly wrapped around your waist. 

“Shh, love. Tell me whats wrong,” he whispers while using one hand to play with your hair. 

“I- um- had detention, with Umbridge,” he looks confused so you take a step back an slowly hold your left arm out. 

He was still confused for a second before looking at your hand. He was fuming, he saved his anger for now and decided to comfort you right now. He also felt such sadness that anyone would hurt an angel like you. 

“She did this to you?” he asked while sounding like he was about to cry. You nod, with some tears still streaming down your face. Oh how we wished he was able to kiss them away. 

“Come on love, I’ll take you to Hermione… she is much better at healing spells than me,” he informs you while gently pulling you towards the Gryffindor common room.

It was pretty late, so the room was empty when you both arrived. Except for Ron and Hermione who were arguing on the couch. They never had anything against you, even though you were a Slytherin, you had never participating in any of the bullying that a lot of other Slytherins did. You even scolded Malfoy when he called Hermione a Mudblood. 

Since that day you became somewhat friends with the girl, ignoring the looks of disgust from others in your house. 

When the two gryffindors looked up and saw you crying with distraught Harry, their argument quickly ended as they rushed over to you both.

“What happened, y/n? Harry?” Hermione says worridly. 

You tell them what happened, and they were just as mad as Harry. They tried to get rid of the writing on your hand but it would not go away. So Hermione decided she would just take the pain away for now. You thanked her with a hug and said goodnight as her and Ron went to their rooms. 

You turned to Harry and noticed how close your faces were, you glanced down at at his lips almost leaning in when you heard a bang from the dormitory making you both jump. 

“I- uh- should get back. Thank you, Potter,” you smile, quickly giving him a peck on the cheek before rushing out and leaving you both a blushing mess. 

Harry was left standing there as he lifted his hand to his red cheeks where your lips were. “What a girl,” he mumbled walking up the stairs. 

Back to present times, Harry got back up from his seat and looked down to you. “I’ll suppose I’ll have to try again tommorow, pretty,” he grins walking back to his seat. 

You blush lightly before picking up your things to head to your first class. The professor ended up assigning seats, and to Harrys luck, he was partnered with you for the year. 

“It’s meant to be, love,” he says as he leans back into his seat. 

“You wish, Potter,” you smile at him. 

“Yes, I do wish,” he grins looking at your eyes. 

After a long day of beginning of the year speeches, you were finally able to plop onto your bed and sleep. You look over to your friend, Daphne Greengrass, she was one of the only tolerable Slytherins in your opinion. 

“It’s adorable how much Potter loves you,” she laughs laying in bed. 

“Pfft, don't be ridiculous Daphne. He doesn't love me,” you shake your head. 

“He looks at you like you’re the only person in the world,” she giggles.  

“Hm”

You decided to drop the conversation, you closed your eyes and fell asleep. Later the next day, you were in the forbidden forest. Around a year ago, you found a place with a pretty flower field that was closed off. You come here often, as far as you know, you’re the only one who knows about it. 

You started to weave a flower crown out of a few lovely flowers you picked. You finished it and put it on as you hear meows from behind you. You turn around a squeal as you pick up the kitten and started to play with her (you checked the gender). 

You were unaware of Harry who was on his was to you after using the Mauraders Map to find you. He finally found you and his heart melt as he saw you giggling with a meowing kitten that licked your face as you lay in the field. 

You heard walking and sat up only to find yourself looking at the boy who has been on your mind a lot recently. 

“Oh! Hi, Harry, I didn’t expect you to come here,” you say. 

“Harry?” he asks you, trying to suppress a smile.

“Thats your name, is it not?” you laugh. 

“I suppose it is. Mind if I sit?” you nod, as you sit together in silence that was unexpectedly comfortable. 

Harry couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of you. 

“I really do fancy you,” Harry mumbles.

You turn to look at him, “I know… maybe I fancy you a bit as well,” you say, bringing your fingers up to show a pinch. 

“Really?” Harry asks leaving closer to you. 

“Really,” you whisper as you move so close your lips are brushing. You look into see his eyes and notice how pretty they are. 

“You’re perfect,” he whispers against your mouth as he connects his to yours. You both close your eyes as you kiss back and reach your hands into his hair. For the first minute it was sweet, before it started to become more passionate. You bring your leg over his and straddle him without disconnecting your lips. It was pure bliss.

You tug his hair getting a groan from him as his tongue swipes against your bottom lip, asking for permission. You happily comply and open your mouth, letting him explore your mouth, and you his. You gently pull his hair back and kiss down his neck and jaw. You leave many butterfly kisses. In between the kisses he whispers some small compliments, making you smile against his neck. You find his sweet spot and lightly suck on it, making him whimper, and leaving a beautiful hickey.  He says some praises bring heat to your face. He kisses your cheeks, “I love making you blush,” he smiles. 

“Oh hush, Potter,” you get off his lap. He groans but you decide its better to stop now before things get more heated. 

“Is it alright if I make you a flower crown? I think it would look rather good on you,” you asks with a sheepish smile.

“Of course, love”

He lays his head on your lap as you make the crown, you finish after about four minutes. It was somewhat hard for you to focus when you could feel Harrys gaze on you, but you tried your best to ignore it. 

“Andddd… done!” Harry sits up and you place it on his head. 

“You look pretty,” you smile pecking his lips. A light pink coats his cheeks. He honesty has never been so happy, he adores you so much that you are 90% of what he talks about. It was such a pain for his friends to have to listen to his rants about your “angelic beauty,” as he puts it. 

“Thank you, angel,” he says. 

“I think we should head back now, dinner alreader started,” you say standing up, also taking the kitten with you. You both walk hand in hand, you grinning at the kitten asleep in your arms, and both of you forgetting about the flower crowns on your heads. You both keep up a good conversation throught the walk.

You stroll into the great hall with Harry as it goes silent. Then there was a chorus of gasps as they take in your guys hand held together, both of your somewhat messy hair, swollen lips, and the hickey on Harrys neck. You step away from him and you head towards your friends, you could hear most boys wolf whistling, some scowling at Harry. Many girls were also glaring at you out of jealousy. 

You look at the staff table and see Dumbledore wink at you, making you raise your eyebrows. You also see Snape hand over some galleons to McGonagall. 

“I’m happy for you, Harry,” Hermione smiles, glancing at Ron as she kicks his leg. 

“Oh- yeah! Good going, mate,” he smirks as he pats his back.

The next day Harry asked you if you would be his girlfriend. You nodded with a smile and gave him a soft kiss.

[en-gelic]

— ANGEL'S KISSES !

an angel's kisses are a delicate feeling 1111 cw. skinship, injuries, smoking heeseung x (f) reader ʚɞ BOOKSHELF! ⋆ an. MEMORABILIA HAS ME ON MY KNEES

The hallways bustle with energy as you scurried across the school. Your chest heaved up and down as you panted out of breath, cursing your terrible stamina. Slowing down, you made it to the back of the school where you found Heeseung, grey smoke tumbling out of his mouth. He crushed it quickly at the sight of you and pretended to recite the homework you gave him the evening before.

“I saw you so don't even try." You warned, pulling a face at the smoky smell filling your lungs. He grinned his perfect smile at you as though to distract you from his lack of obedience. "Your rank is still the same after I spend four days of my week to tutor you-" You began.

"You're so pretty." He interrupted, leading his dreamy gaze to you. "Are you even listening?" You questioned, irritated with the boys' lack of cooperation.

"Not at all, pretty girl." His overused nickname still made your heart skip a beat as you scolded him to stop using the nickname on you.

"Then which one do you prefer?" Grinning, he leaned down, his breath blowing loose strands of your hair. "Princess? Baby? My love?" Fighting the urge to hold your breath, you stepped back. "Listening while I'm talking is a start."

Hearing footsteps, you silently demand his cigarette box. He handed it to you in confusion, your hand buzzing with the electricity that felt like it was running through his hand when you grazed it.

"What are you doing students?" The teacher asked, trying to peak at the cigarette box you were holding behind your skirt. Muttering a curse word under your breath, you smiled politely. "Nothing, just remembering formulas before math class." Nervously glancing at the teacher, you could see that he didn't look convinced whatsoever. "And what's behind your back?" He pressed on, sensing inaccuracy in your sentence. Being the worst liar, you pulled a face, ready to get caught by the teacher with cigarettes that weren't even yours.

"Condoms." Heeseung blurted as your eyes shot open in horror at his sentence. The teacher looked astounded as a blush tinted his cheeks. He droned on about having inappropriate material at school, but he let you keep the supposed "condoms" and granted a warning and detention for the end of the day. Not to mention, the only detention you were ever given.

When the teacher finally disappeared, you shot the boy a look and shoved the cigarettes back in his hand. "Does that mean there's no tutoring today?" He called, lighting another cigarette. "My house at seven after detention."

Dreading the evening ahead, you delegated duties to the class before heading to your worst nightmare. Surprisingly, you were first as you took your seat, the teachers' face staining pink after seeing you. Trying to hide the embarrassment exploding through you, you quickly finished your homework, turning your gaze to the window, losing yourself in the amber sunset peeking through the trees and turning the light in the room a deep shade of yellow. Movement rustled beside you as you returned from your daze to look at the boy who took his seat, fresh injuries marking his angelic features.

"What happened to you?" You question, analyzing his scars and concluding that he got into a fist fight. By his lack of reply, you stood up, viewing the quantity of the scars and opened your bag, retrieving the first aid kit. He groaned in retaliation as you held his face still while you treated the injuries on the side of his mouth.

"Who brings a first aid kit to school?" He started, wincing from the sting.

"Because I know an idiot who gets himself into fights and leaves his wounds open to infection and gets me into detention."

"Your idiot, princess." He corrected. "As if being an idiot is a good thing." Despite the red staining his features, he still looked attractive as he grinned his signature smile at you. "Being an idiot for you is." You sighed, ignoring his sentence and bringing your hand to the bruise on his cheekbone. "Care to explain who got you into this mess?"

"You." His hand caught your wrist as you hesitated to meet his eyes. Feeling the tension wafting in the room, the teacher silently exited, closing the door behind him. You continued wiping the blood away until he tugged you onto his lap, the cotton shooting out of your hands.

Desire spread through his features as you subconsciously inched closer to his lips, finally connecting them, brushing your nose against his cheek. It would be embarrassing to tell him that it was your first time, so your only result was imitating his actions, resulting in a breathtaking kiss.

A throat cleared behind you as the teacher appeared by the door, standing awkwardly. Flushed, you got up from his lap apologizing repeatedly to the teacher and moving back to your seat. Detention dismissed briskly as you hurried through the vacant halls, avoiding Heeseung as your embarrassment flared up at the thought of him. Finding a mirror, you noticed your swollen lips from his teeth nibbling your bottom one. You couldn't bring yourself to think about how awkward the rest of the evening would be and quickly freshened yourself in the bathroom before he came over.

He found you sitting by your desk, finalizing projects with your headphones on, unaware of your surroundings. He leaned down, the action going unnoticed by you who was still in your own bubble.

"What are you listening to?" He questioned, swiftly removing your headphones and resting them on your neck. Your stomach flipped at the feeling of his lip resting on your ear, feeling as it curved into a smile. Turning to face him, the weight of his stare made the words you practiced earlier disappear into thin air.

"What's with that look, doll?" He pressed, leaning his hands on the arms of your chair. His eyes moved to your lips, sliding a finger across your bottom lip which was still swollen. Leaning into you, your breaths mingled as your eyes fluttered shut, waiting for his lips to press on yours. He let out a brief chuckle before your lips connected, moving in sync as the air in your lungs languidly vanished.

"Does this mean no tutoring today?" He repeated the question he asked earlier, circling a part of your neck with his index finger. You answered by delicately kissing the area around where his bruises were, ending it off with a light kiss on his lips. Reconnecting his lips with yours, you made a mental note to give him extra homework for the damage he achieved today.

✸ perm taglist (open) : @cholexc @07sleepykatz @bunnbam (ask or comment to be added !)

✸ taglist (open) : @zhounauts @riksaes @dimplewonie @itjengirl © en-gelic 2024.

[bonesandchalamet]

lessons in french- t.chalamet

pairings: timothee chalamet x reader

warnings: google translated French

a/n: first post on this account 😁 my main is @thatsdemko 🫶 feedback is always appreciated xx

“and how do I say ‘I love you’ again?”

“Je t'aime.” he says, mouth full of a buttery croissant you fetched from the bakery across the street. it’s your morning ritual, the boy who lives across town comes to your apartment and you get him “New Yorks finest croissants”— at least that’s how he puts it as.

your recent discovery was of his ability to speak a different language, French that is, and ever since you’ve been begging for lessons due to your upcoming trip to Europe. you could say New York public school systems failed you, as you barely remember a lick of the words he makes you repeat.

“and what about stop making a mess of my sofa.” you scowl brushing the pastry crumbs that scatter the cream colored seats. he mumbled a sorry as he finishes his last bite, a delighted moan escapes his lips.

“why the sudden interest in the language again?” he asks brushing his hands on his pants rather than using the crummy paper napkin that’s already wadded up and disintegrating from the butter of his hands.

“because I’m going to Europe in three weeks! I can’t look like an idiot.”

“certaines choses ne peuvent pas être changées.” he lightly giggles shaking his head watching your face scrunch up trying to dissect the sentence, but you fail. some things can’t be changed

you huff an annoyed sigh, arms crossed over your chest, “I wish I never bought you that croissant years ago.” you joke watching his acting skills come to life as he pretends to be hurt.

“now you’re just being straight up rude, amour.”

—

“so when a nice guy offers me a drink at the club what should I say?”

“J'ai un petit-ami.” the same buttery croissant fills his mouth, he watches you saunter across your tiny New York City living room. he admits, you not knowing any French is fun for him. it means he has all control of what you repeat back and what you write in your journal for the trip. this one might’ve just been the icing on the cake. I have a boyfriend

“J’ai un petit-ami? doesn’t that mean something else?” you question, head cocked to the side watching him shake his head in response as he swallows the pastry.

“nope.” he replies, reaching for the hot coffee you’ve provided him, he slurps the contents watching your pen move vigorously across the page. he thinks it’s cute how focused you are, he loves how close you hold the notebook to your face and how you spell out the words in a way only you will know what they mean.

“so are all French people assholes? I’ve been reading up on your people.”

he laughs, “my people?” he watches the red hue light your face, hands up in defense, “that’s what the internet says!”

he laughs once more telling you to never believe the internet, although he did play you into thinking the words “I have a boyfriend” mean something completely different, so maybe he is apart of that collective group.

—

“repeat it to me once more, amour.”

“Voulez-vous coucher avec moi, ce soir?” do you want to sleep with me tonight

he chuckles a little to himself trying to find a serious tone, “that’s exactly what you should say to the cab driver.”

you chuck an orange at him watching his hands go up in defense as he allows the fruit to hit him the arm, two of you laughing, “this isn’t funny, Timmy! I leave in twenty-four hours!”

he watches you collapse against the cream colored sofa beside him, legs extending into his lap, “how am I supposed to order croissants for you across the world?” you bat your eyelids in an affection way, it’s your last hope to get help— the pastry was already the key to his heart. it gets him to do anything.

“what a dilemma that is.” he shakes his head, fingers tangling through his curls that fall in front of his eyes, “just don’t forget your notebook and you’ll be fine. do you remember how to order?”

“un croissant š'il vous plaît.” a croissant please

“tu est parfaite.” you are perfect

—

his phone buzzes in his pocket, it hasn’t even been a full day since you landed in Paris and you’ve been buzzing him like a mad woman. it’s his first time being in your place alone, he’s in charge of watering your plants. he notices you’ve left him money for his croissants and an extra key in case he misplaces the one you already gave him.

“bonjour mon ami how is Paris?” he picks up the phone plopping down onto your cream colored sofa and pressing speaker so he can listen and eat.

“did you know j’ai un petit-ami is I have a boyfriend?! you lied to me!”

he laughs, the familiar sound spreads a smile on your face despite your angry tone, it’s nice to hear him. even if you’ve been texting him, his voice is what you miss right now, “I guess you’re right my people are assholes.”

“damn right, chalamet! and I learned a little something from the bartender last night, tu es un connard!” you are an asshole

“Je t'aime!”

[bbrissonn]

𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞 - 𝐠𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐲

↬ in which after years of pinning after you, gavin finally decides to go for what he truly wants. ↬ pairing: gavin brindley x casey!reader ↬ wc: 5.3k ↬ warnings: slightly nsfw, read at your own risk, not proofread, lowercase intended ↬ disclaimer: gavin's lowkey an asshole for a bit, but they get a happy ending ! ↬ autors's note: this was requested by an anon, but i accidently deleted it so oopsie, was supposed to just be a small blurb but i got carried away like always. i was listening to a random playlist when experience by ludovico einaudi started playing and this became so angsty to sorry about that

you and seamus had always been close. when he started playing hockey, so did you. hockey wasn't all that popular in florida, the boys barely being able to have a team for their age group each years. meaning the possibility of having a girls team was pretty much impossible. which lead to you joining seamus' team when you turn 8. you joining the team meant you were now teammates with gavin brindley, a boy from your neighborhood, who also happened to be shea's best friend.

the two of you were never close, whenever is familly came over you'd chose to spend time with his sister. even if the two of you were on the same team, you were still just his best friend's little sister.

when seamus left for the NTDP, everything was weird. not only did you lose your defense partner, but it also felt like you had lost a part of yourself. which is why when the umich women's hockey team offered you a spot on their team, you waisted no time accepting their offer.

of course it wasn't going to be like before, you and shea playing together, but it was close enough. the two of you would be back in the same time, having the time of your lives playing the sport you love the most.

unfortunately, the two of you couldn't share a dorm like you hoped. so, shea opted for gavin as his roommate, and you with another freshman on your team. but you barely ever spent time in there, always being over at shea's dorm. the brindley boy never minded much attention to the two of you, leaving the two of you to be in your own little world.

you and gavin had maybe spoken no more than four sentences to each other since you both arrived in michigan. couple of greetings here and there, but nothing more. which is why when he showed up along with your brother to your team's home opener, you were shocked. even more when you saw him waiting outside of the locker room after the games, your brother no where in sight.

"hey." he smiled at you when you walked out, making you stop in your tracks. you looked around quickly, seeing if seamus was near, but no one else seemed to be around.

"hi?" you spoke confused. this was probably the first time the two of you had ever spoken to each other with no one around.

"you did great." he said with a smile. a small one of your own grew on your face, rocking backwards on your heels.

"thanks. uh, i don't wanna come off as rude or whatever, but what're you doing here exactly?" you questioned him with an awkward smile. he stared at you for a couple of seconds before snapping out of whatever weird trance he was in.

"i came with shea."

"i meant what are you doing here?" you repeated, looking around the hallway.

"oh. um, well, i was waiting outside but one of your teammates brought me here."

"gavin, you know that's not that i meant." you pushed. you weren't exactly sure what game he was playing, but you were already growing tired.

"honestly?" he asked, making you nod your head, which made the boy in front of you sigh. "i don't know." he answered, making you scoff slightly.

"gavin we played on the same team for 7 years and you barely ever spoke to me. now, all of the sudden, you wait for me after my games? what's going on? did something happen with shea?" you panicked. normally, it was always seamus waiting for you after game, and vice-versa, never seamus' friends.

"shea's fine. i, uh, i went to the bathroom and when he came back he was gone."

"it's a five minute walk, gavin." you mumbled as your last teammate left the locker room. the boy in front of you looked down at the ground, biting his lip slightly as he realized he had been caught, no more excuses coming to him.

"i wanted to see you." he whispered honestly, a slight shade of pink taking over to apple of his cheeks. he sighed when his eyes met yours, your brows furred. "i just... i don't know, ever since we got to michigan, it's just been different."

"what do you mean?" you questioned confused. you truly didn't understand what he was trying to say, and you were growing tired of him beating around the bush.

"you've always been shea's sister to me, right?" he started. "but i don't want you to just be his sister anymore." he continued when you nodded. your brows furred again at his words, still confused.

"gav..." you trailed off as the boy started avoiding eye contact again.

"when i came over for the first time when you guys moved, i wasn't there for shea. i wanted to have a playdate with you, but my mom called yours and then i got dragged to your garage. i've always wanted to get to know you, but seamus told me to stay away from you, but i don't wanna stay away anymore." he finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

"gavin..." you trailed off again, being at a lost for words. he had always been seamus' best friend. always. the two of you have known each other since you were kids, yet he felt like a total stranger because of how little you knew about him.

"i've seen the way you look at me, y/n. and i know you've seen the way i look at you." he whispered softly, taking a stop closer to you. your fingers brushed against each other, your heads inches away.

"shea-"

"what shea doesn't know won't kill him." he smirked, using a phrase he's heard you use so many times during your gossip sessions with your twin.

"he's gonna know, i physically can't lie to him."

"then we can just tell him, y/n/n. why do you think he left without me?" he asked, his pointer finger coming bellow your chin and lifting your head so you were looking at him. you could feel his breath against your face as his eyes looked down at your lips, and that's all you needed before leaning in and connecting your lips.

both of his hands quickly flew to your waist as yours went to the back of his neck and head, your fingers brushing through his curls. your kiss quickly went from soft and slow to messy and quick. his arms fully wrapped around your waist as your tongues met in the middle. a groan left his mouth as you pushed your body against his, your chest flat against his as your hands travelled deeper in his curls.

after a minute or two, one of your hands came to his chest, your fingers looping in the necklace that adored his neck. when the boy pulled away from you to catch his breath, you were quick to pull him back after a couple of seconds. the two of you smiled into the kiss, your teeth clashing together as a small giggle escaped your lips.

gavin's hands started to travel down further your back, until a loud couch was heard in the hallway. the two of you pulled away, looking in the direction of the cough, only to see one of the janitors staring at the two of you. a dark shade of read appeared on your face before the brindley boy grabbed your hand and started guiding towards the exit of the arena.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

it had now been a week since that night, and you had yet to tell your brother about your new found romance with his best friend. it wasn't like you didn't want to, you did, you really did, and you tried. you were planning on telling him after three days, but that plan quickly dissipated when seamus started rambling on and on about how thankful he was that gavin had chosen michigan as well, and how grateful he felt to have a brother by his side.

guilt took over as you couldn't shake the feeling that you were betraying your brother. scared of how he was going to react, you decided to keep it to yourself, and you had yet to find another moment to tell him about it. you called gavin, freaking out about what the two of you had done, but he was quick to calm you down. he reassured you that seamus should be happy that the two of you were happy together, and if he wasn't, he'd have to get over it.

which lead to this moment, gavin's large frame above yours as the two of you were in nothing but undergarments. his lips slowly travelling down your body as soft moans echoed in his shared dorm room.

seamus had a class, meaning gavin had the dorm to himself, and you two were quick not to waist a single second you could have alone. shea's class was two hours long, and his professor often went beyond that time by thirty minutes, meaning the two of you had plenty of time.

"gav!" you gasped when his fingers started rubbing small circles against your clit. you had quickly rushed to his dorm from your class after seeing his text almost an hour ago, your body still full of need after the previous night. the two of you were sharing a heated make out in your dorm until your brother called gavin, urging him to come back to their dorm.

thankfully you and gavin shared a class, so using the excuse that you were helping him study was one your twin brother believed quite easily. he did find it a little weird how quickly the two of you became close, but he decided to brush it off, telling himself he was probably just overthinking it.

but this, this he was sure he wasn't overthinking. the first thing he saw when he walked into his dorm was your bra flying to the ground. at first, he just though gavin had decided to use up their free room and get laid. he couldn't blame him, sharing a dorm was making the two of them quite sexually frustrated as hooking up with someone while your best friend is laying on the bed at the end of yours was pretty awkward. seamus was supposed to be gone for at least three hours like always, but his professor's wife went into labor and ended the class early.

he was about to walk away when he heard gavin mumble something that made him stop dead in his tracks. he wasn't sure if he had just misheard what his best friend said, but when gavin repeated himself louder, he was sure he was hearing right.

"fuck, y/n/n."

"gav, hurry up, please!" he heard you whine as what sounded like a condom packaging was being opened. seamus felt his heart drop in his stomach. he had left gavin at the rink after your game because he just wanted the two of you to be friends, not have sex in his room while he was gone.

"don't worry, baby, shea won't be back for another two hours. we got plenty of time. gonna make you feel so good." when he heard those words, his hands went numb, and the door handle slipped from his grip, making the door slam shut. the loud noise made you and gavin jump slightly.

"y/n?" you heard seamus' shaky voice ask. when you looked to your side, no one was there, meaning he was still standing at the door. your heart broken at the sound of your brother's voice, the guilt once again coming back. gavin had a finger over his mouth, telling you stay quiet, but you couldn't.

"shea." you breathed out loud enough for your brother to hear as you pushed gavin off of you. your hands reached for your shirt that was on the bed, quickly throwing it on as you avoided making eyes contact with gavin. the boy tried to stop you from reaching for your underwear, which were also on the bed, but quickly gave up when you brushed him off, standing up from the bed and slipping them on.

you grabbed both your pair of pants that were laying at the end of the little hallway leading to the door, your eyes meeting seamus' when you leaned back up. your brother was frozen, tears starting to form in his eyes. you were about to started walking towards him, but gavin joined you. one of is hand reached for his pants you were holding, while the other landed on your back. his pressed a small kiss to your temple, trying to reassure that everything was going to be okay.

but his action only seemed to make the situation even worse. seamus' brows furred as anger now took over. his eyes went from broken to angry and the words he spoke next were not the ones you wanted to hear.

"get out." he whispered harshly, his eyes staring into gavin's.

"shea-"

"it's fine." gavin mumbled in your ear before grabbing a hoodie. "i'll be outside." he added before making his way to the door. your brother's eyes never left his best friend until the door was close, and they shifted to you.

"with gavin? really?"

"i tried to tell you, i swear i did-"

"how long?" he asked firmly, cutting you off. "a month? two? five? a year?"

"no, god, no, shea. a week. it was after my game, when you left gav at the rink. i never meant to hurt you, but i deserve to be happy, shea." you admitted, the two of you still standing in the same spots.

"and you couldn't find somebody else to be happy with? it had to be him?"

"shea you've known since we were kids how i've felt about him."

"you said he was just some childhood crush, y/n!" seamus spat, raising his voice slightly as he approached you.

"he is! he was! but he's felt the same way about me all along, and i'm tired of not letting myself be happy just for you." you said, standing up for yourself. all your life you had always just listened to seamus without really questioning what he was saying, almost letting him dictate your life, but you were tired of that.

"you really wanna be with him?"

"yes."

"then go be with him, but stay the hell away from me." he mumbled harshly before pushing past you and going over to his desk where he dropped his bag.

"shea, please."

"leave." he said firmly. his back was facing you and it wasn't until he heard the door close that he let a tear slip from his eyes. on the other side of the door, gavin was met with your red eyes filled with tears. the boy was quick to bring you into his chest, holding you tight against him. thankfully your dorm was on the same floor as theirs, so the brindley boy waisted no time bringing over there.

your roommate was gone, having a class of your own, something you were grateful for as you started breaking down in gavin's arms once the two of you were sitting on your bed. the mood completely different from the last time the two of you were there together.

"it's okay, sweetheart. he just needs some time." gavin mumbled as his thumbs rubbed small circles on your arm and back, trying to help you calm down.

"he hates me." you cried out, and gavin felt his heart ach for the two of you. you had always been so close, and he couldn't help the guilt he felt for making the two of you drift apart.

"i'm sorry."

"it's not your fault, gav. he's an asshole."

"he's your brother. twin brother."

"who's an asshole." you spoke through your sobs. gavin chuckled slightly at your words, you were never really one to use foul language, expect when it came to your brother.

"hey, look at me. i promise, everything's gonna be okay. he's just shocked right now, and the way he found out wasn't... ideal." he said, trying his best to comfort you.

"i'm scared he's gonna hate me forever."

"he's your twin, y/n/n, he can't hate you. just give him some time to clear his head, okay?" gavin said, his hand cupping your face and pressing a kiss to your lips after you nodded slightly.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

the next couple of days were weird for everyone. gavin and seamus barely ever spoke to each other, something everyone on their team noticed. nolan had tried to make them fix whatever the problem was, but neither of them wanted to talk about it.

whenever gavin would leave their dorm during the evenings, seamus would shoot up a dirty look, making gavin roll his eyes every time he would end up in the hallway. things between you and gavin were amazing, no one had ever made you feel as happy as he did. he was doing an amazing job at making sure you were okay at all time, waiting for you outside the class you shared with your brother.

it was truly perfect, well besides the fact that seamus still hadn't talked to either of you. even your parents all the way in florida could sense something was wrong, especially when the two of you joined the weekly family face time from your own dorms and barely spoke during said facetime.

but that all change one morning when you and gavin got woken up by a loud knock at the door. you let out a loud groan as the person once again knocked. your roommate had gone home for the weekend since he family lived in detroit and you guys had the weekend off.

"can you go open it, please?" you asked gavin, who had officially asked you as his girlfriend the night before. the boy didn't answer, instead just pressing a kiss to your forehead before getting out of your bed and going to open the door.

"hi." you heard your brother say, almost making you jump out of your bed. gavin stood at the door, only wearing boxers, giving your brother the very wrong idea of what he just walked into.

"we were sleeping." gavin mumbled harshly, knowing where his best friend's mind went to.

"can i come in?"

"depends. are you gonna yell at her again?" gavin asked, crossing his arms over his chest. before seamus had the chance to answer, you appeared next to your boyfriend. the two hockey players were both looking at you, waiting to hear your answer. your fingers interlocked with gavin's, his hands squeeze yours lightly before you nodded, stepping to the side to let your brother in.

you and gavin ended up sitting on your bed, your hands locked together, while shea sat at your desk chair.

"i'm sorry for how i reacted. i shouldn't have gotten mad like that, 'm sorry." your brother spoke after about a minute of awkward silence. you could tell by the look in his eyes that he truly felt bad for how he acted.

"i'm sorry we lied to-"

"we didn't lie. we just didn't say the truth." gavin cut you off, making you let out a sigh. you knew he was right, but him saying that wasn't going to make the situation any better.

"you know, i don't remember asking you to be here for this conversation." seamus said harshly, his eyes staring into gavin's. the younger boy scoffed at your brother's words, making himself comfortable on your bed.

"i'm apart of this."

"doesn't mean i was talking to you."

"she's my girlfriend, you talk to her, you talk to me." gavin said protectively. he hated having to see you cry in his arms almost every night for the past week, and he wasn't going to let seamus off the hook so easily for what he did. seamus' started throwing daggers gavin's way, and you knew you had to intervene before the situation escalated.

"gav, can shea and i talk for a moment, please? alone." you said making gavin take a deep breath as he started into seamus' eyes. you squeeze his hands slightly, making him look over at you. "i'll be fine. i'll text you if i need you, okay?" you added as gavin leaned his forehead against yours, your free hand cupping his cheek as you pressed a small peck to his lips.

"i'll go see what the fants are up to." he whispered in your ear before standing up from the bed, sending a glare in shea's way, before leaving your room.

"so... you guys are official?"

"yup."

"i'm happy for you, y/n, i really am. and you were right. you deserve to be happy and be with someone who makes you happy. but i want you to understand how it makes me feel. gav's been my best friends since forever, and you've been my best friend forever. i don't want to lose you to him, or lose him to you, y/n/n." he explained.

"you're not losing anyone, shea. your my twin, you're stuck with me forever." you joked, but when your eyes met his you were reminded of why he was here. "you were an asshole, shea."

"i know, and i'm so sorry, y/n/n."

"if you do it again, i'm gonna have to snitch to mom and dad." when his brain registered what you had just said, he finally realized that you weren't mad at him. "but you can't be mad at gav, shea. if you're not mad at me, you can't be mad at him, it's not fair."

"y/n-"

"no. he went behind your back just as much as i did. it's not fair, shea. we never meant for you find out the way you did, and i'm sorry it happened that way, but you can't be mad at him." you cut him off.

"i can’t not be mad at him, y/n/n. he promised me nothing was going on between you two, he lied to me.” shea spoke, making you a little confuse.

"he lied? when?"

"you know when i went on that little rant about him, i asked him earlier that day if anything had happened after your game, and he swore nothing happened. he lied."

"he only lied because i told him i wanted to tell you, shea, not because he wanted to. he wanted me to tell you that same night, but i... i was too scared of how you were going to react. and clearly i was right for being scared." you stated, getting a little angry at the end. your brother scoffed at your words, standing up from your chair and pacing around the room.

"of course you're gonna side with him." he mumbled under his breath, but it was still loud enough for you to hear. his words made you stand up from your spot on your bed, placing a hand on his chest to stop his pacing.

"okay, now you're being an asshole again, shea." you said, a stern look on your face as you stared into his eyes.

"whatever." he whispered, rolling his eyes before leaving your room. you let out a loud sigh before hearing the door open and close once again. a pair of hands landed on your hips, lips pressing a kiss behind your ear.

"you lied to him?" you mumbled as you leaned back against the brindley. he let out a sigh of his own as his arms wrapped around your waist.

"i did." he confirmed. he knew that lying to his best friend was eventually gonna come back and bite him in the ass, he just didn't except for it to come from you.

"you could've told me."

"i know, and i'm sorry i didn't. but you already had so much to worry about, i didn't want shea's and i's friendship to worry you even more." he whispered softly in your ear, pecking the shell of your ear after.

"things were going so good, and then he just started being an asshole again." you informed him, turning around in his hold so you were chest to chest. your hands went to the side of his neck, your fingers playing with some of his curls.

"he's mad at me, baby, not you. heard him and rut talkin' 'bout it." gavin mumbled in the shell of your ear as he pulled you into him.

"it's not fair."

"i know, baby, but it's gonna be okay. listen, i know it's bad timing, but coach wants me to go down to the rink. i'll be back as soon as i can, okay?" he said, as the two of you pulled away slightly. you nodded your head slightly and gavin pressed a kiss to your lips before leaving the room with his things.

you decided to meet up with some of your friends to go grab a quick breakfast at a cafe near your dorm. you talked with them about what happened, desperate for some advice. you eventually settled on a plan, and as soon as you got back to your building, you went straight to seamus' room.

when your brother opened the door, the two of you just stared at each other, before you pushed past him and into his room. you heard him let out a long sigh before joining you in the middle of the room.

"sit." you said, looking at his desk chair. he quickly listened, wanting to get this over with. "gavin's your best friend, shea. he's always been your best friend. he loves you, and he cares about you. and this you being mad at him thing is stupid and selfish of you. we're happy together, and you should be happy for us, not mad at us. he's your best friend, and he's hurting because you're not talking to him. i am the one who waited to tell you, if you're gonna be mad at anyone be mad at me, but not him." you cried out, tears forming in your eyes as memories from two nights ago filled your head.

gavin was over at your dorm, watching a movie when the two of you started talking. he eventually admitted to you how much it hurted him that shea was ignoring him. he even cried a little in your arms because of it. never had you seen gavin cry, not even after he was injured or a hard lose. never.

"i know, but i can't be happy for you, y/n. i know how he is, he breaks hearts, y/n. i don't want him to hurt you. even if he wasn't my friend, i wouldn't be happy for you. this isn't about you being with my best friend, this is how about how he treats girls. and i'm not just stand there and act like i'm okay with you being with him. i don't want you to see you hurt. he cheated on his last two girlfriend's, y/n, and i don't want that to happen to you too." seamus explained. tears started falling from your eyes as the more he talked.

"that's not true, he isn't like that."

"i was there, y/n, both time! i was the one who told them! i don't want the next girl i'm stuck giving that talk to is you, i can't. i won't be the one who hurts you." your brother added, as tears of his own pilled in his eyes. meanwhile, more started rolling down your cheeks.

"i really like him, shea. he makes me really happy, and he's different now."

"you don't know that." seamus exclaimed, standing up from his seat.

"he's not like that, shea. please, just give him a chance. i really want this, shea. i really wanna be with him." you begged. the look on your face finally making him break his protective big brother roll.

"fine, but i swear, y/n, if he does anything-"

"thank you! thank you!" you said, rushing into your brothers arm. your arms wrapped around his torso as you let out a small sniffle, while his went around your shoulders.

"if he hurts you-"

"he won't."

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

"what's going on?" you asked walking into your dorm room later that week. after your little talk with seamus, he had a long with gavin. first talking to him as your big brother, warning him about what would happen if he hurts you. then as his best friend, telling him not to mess it up because he could tell how happy you two were.

gavin wasn't really sure what you had said to him while he was at Yost that morning. but whatever you said, he was thankful you did. you could hangout outside of your dorm room, hold hands whenever you wanted, and you could swear you had never been happy before.

"thought we could finally have that playdate." gavin said, walking towards you as he held a hand out. the lights were out, a bunch of candles light up on your desk as he guided you into the room.

on your bed were a bunch of your favourite snacks, along with some flowers. next to those was a box, the words guess who? written on it, making your jaw drop.

"you remember?" you asked excited, but at the same time embarrassed.

"do i remember you harassing shea until we were like 12 to play guess who every day? of course i do."

"gosh, i am so glab puberty's a thing."

"so am i." gavin smirked, his eyes staring at your boobs. you were wearing a shirt with a very deep v neck, the bra you were wearing making your boobs show even more.

"hey, eyes up here mister." you said, snapping a finger in his face. the boy chuckled slightly before grabbing the flowers and handing them to you.

"my lady."

"thank you kind, sir." you answered, also using a british accent. the two of you laughed slightly before gavin pressed a long kiss to your lips.

the two of you spent the night eating snacks, playing guess who over and over again until gavin finally won. you had also convince him to finally start watching pretty little liars with you.

that night spend together was probably one of the best night of your life. it only made your feelings for the boy that much stronger, and the he felt the same way.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

"okay, could you at least not shove your tongue down each other's throat while i'm here." seamus mumbled from his bed, making you and gavin pull away from each other. "i don't want any nephews or nieces."

"you're just jealous."

"your boyfriend has a bigger butt than you, y/n." seamus said bluntly, making you and gavin gasp at his words.

"it's not that flat." you said, looking at your brother before turning to look at gavin. "right?"

"it's not. gavin's butt is just huge."

"i do have a pretty big booty."

"and i still can't believe you won't share your ass workout with me." you sassed your boyfriend, making seamus chuckle slightly.

"and i'm telling you it's genetics!"

"i'm serious though. if you guys wanna get all freaky, go to your dorm." seamus cut your little chat off. his eyes were looking at your eyes, making you roll your own.

"it's girl's night over there."

"sucks for you, but you're not having sex here."

"shea, when two people love each other..." you started, but you were stopped by your twin brother throwing one of his extra pillow on you.

"shut up! i'm going to sleep. get that smile off your face, brindley. i'll still hear you."

[hbyrde36]

Writing Patterns

I was tagged by @withacapitalp 🥰 ty sweetness! I'm pretty sure I've done this one before but not for a while so most of these should be new/different

and @thefreakandthehair! thank you for the additional tag 💜

rules: share the first line of your last ten published works or as many as you are able and see if there are any patterns!

Midsummer Nights - Steve had been a camper at Sunset Lake since almost before he could remember.

No Vacancy - Eddie grinned as he pulled his trusty van, the very same rust-bucket he’d been driving since high school that he liked to refer to as Van Halen, if only to elicit the groans of both friends and strangers, into the small parking lot of the Buckingham beach motel

Devil (take my hand and we'll walk into the fire together) - It didn’t hit home until Eddie arrived on set on the day of the shoot what he’d actually gotten himself into.

Who even goes on blind dates anymore? - Eddie took a deep breath, preparing himself mentally for the night ahead as he walked up the street towards the place he was supposed to meet his blind date.

Times Like These (The Anniversary Edition) - Eddie could hardly breathe past the blood that was flooding into his mouth, threatening to choke him before he even had the opportunity to bleed out.

Mermay - Eddie had always lived his life in fear of being caught, of being labeled a freak for more than just his love of Metal, Tolkien, and D&D—not to mention his less than heterosexual leanings in the romance department, but that was a whole other thing with its own set of worries.    

Fairytale - He was never going to find her.

I Don't Think We're In Hawkins Anymore, Big Boy - To be perfectly honest, Steve always felt a little unsafe riding around in the van with Eddie.

Life is a Game (and True Love is a Trophy) - “That was amazing, Eddie!”

Hellfire Ink - Not for the first time, Eddie was really regretting his decision to book a client on a Friday night, and a new client at that.

is there a pattern? I feel like there is but I'm not sure how to describe. Eddie's name appears in almost every first sentence and starts FOUR of them, does that count? LMAO 

No pressure tags! @penny00dreadful @pearynice @dreamwatch @devondespresso @shares-a-vest

@medusapelagia @eriquin @rocknrollsalad @momotonescreaming @thisapplepielife

[taylorsv3rsion13]

we never go out of style || c.f.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

words: 3.0k

synopsis : things were always rocky for conrad and you. after the whole break up, will everything be the same the year later? or will it all turn to shit.

"Good morning, Y/N" Susannah said as she entered my room.

I got up almost instantly, "Oh god, am I late?" I asked.

She laughed a little, "No, you're fine, don't worry."

Susannah hopped onto my bed, looking at me with a cute smile, "Are you ready for your big day."

I shook my head no, "Nope."

"Oh yes you are." She said to me.

"But what if I trip? Or I step on Jeremiah's foot?" I asked.

"You won't, just hold onto Jeremiah." She said, laughing a little, "He won't let you fall."

I laughed a little as well, "That's true."

"You know..." Susannah began, "I still don't know how you got him to be your escort. He swore up and down that he'd never go to any of these things."

I laughed a little.

"Well, he'd do anything for you." She tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. "They both would."

My smile faltered a little, as I looked around my room, avoiding eye contact with Susannah.

"Everything okay?" Susannah asked.

I nodded quickly, "Yeah."

"Did I push you into this?" Susannah asked, "You can tell me the truth."

"Um... maybe a little at first, but. I really don't mind, I just want to make you happy."

Susannah sighed a little, "Look, honestly, we don't even need to go tonight if you don't want to, okay?"

"No, no, I want to go." I said, smiling up at her. "And I'm kind of excited for people to see me."

Susannah smiled as she placed out foreheads together.

"I love you so much beautiful girl." She said as she held back tears. "Okay um. When they take your photograph, remember to say prune! It'll make your cheekbones look divine." Susanna said.

"Prune?" I asked, trying to see if it would work.

"It's an old trick I learned from Madonna... or was it the Olsen twins?" Susannah said, trying to figure out where she had learned this from.

She hopped off my bed, "Okay, meet me downstairs. There's a surprise for you." She smiled.

I sighed looking at the dress hanging up on my door. It wasn't exactly what I wanted, but if Susannah wanted me to wear it, I was more than happy to.

I walked downstairs, not really knowing what to expect. In the living room, stood Susannah, Laurel, and Belly, showing off a beautiful dress. No, they were showing off the dress.

"You got me the dress I wanted?" I said, almost speechless as a large smile grew on my face.

I looked at all of three of them, my mind blown.

"Thank you!" I laughed as I walked up to them.

I gave all three of them the biggest hugs I have ever given anyone in my life.

I finished getting a somewhat more normal outfit on as I made my way into the kitchen where Belly was.

"Hey, Good morning. Um, I picked up some of the muffins that you liked." Conrad said immediately as I walked in, placing them on the counter.

"I-um, I'm not really hungry actually. Thank you, though."

"Oh, girls, you should get going." Susannah announced. "Oh and everyone, stay out of the family room. I've done all of the paintings and tonight we'll have the big unveiling."

Susannah gave the boys a number of things to carry to the Laurel's car.

"Laurel, aren't you coming?" I asked as I put my shoes on.

"I'm going with Susannah, I was thinking Belly could drive you guys?"

Belly and I turned to each other and screamed loudly as she took the keys from her mom.

Belly ran out first as her mom gave me orders to have Belly follow. I raced out of the kitchen.

"Hey." Conrad called out to me.

I stopped in my tracks, "Yeah?"

"Break a leg."

I gasped, "That'd be horrible. I'm supposed to be dancing all night."

Conrad stammered, "I just.. I meant, um, I just mean good luck. It's like, a thing, people, um, say." He rambled.

I laughed a little as he tried to fix his sentence.

"For what it's worth, Jere was the right choice." Conrad said.

"Yeah, uhm, I know." I said awkwardly, before leaving.

Jere leaned against Laurel's car as Belly had already started the engine.

"Don't be nervous, we'll be the best waltzers out there." He joked.

"I'm not nervous. But also, I'm sorry about the volleyball game, I just was really competitive."

"No, It's fine, I understand." He laughed.

"Thank you, Jere." I gave him a big hug before walking into Bell's car.

Belly and I walked into the room together, and it was hectic.

Girls running around trying to get their hair and makeup done. Some not as shaved as they would like and others giving up and resting in their bra's.

"You guys are here!" Shayla exclaimed, her hairs in large rollers.

We hung up our dresses as we said hi to Shayla.

"Come, I've saved you guys spots."

My chair was besides Nicole's who didn't bother to say anything to me.

"You guys should really talk." Shayla said as she looked between us.

"Nicole, I'm really really sorry." I said.

"For what? Conrad? I'm over it, I'm here with someone else." She said. Though, her voice did sound a little passive agressive.

"Nicole, I never meant for that to happen and I know it's dumb and it means absolutely nothing, but I've liked him since I was a little girl. And I thought I got over him last year, but I guess I didn't fully and I distanced myself from him as much as I could. I'm really really sorry." I explained.

"We can't help that Conrad's a fuck boy." She said as she was slumped in her chair.

"Look I'm over him." I said, giving her a soft smile.

"No one get's over their first love, really." Nicole said before returning back to her makeup.

Belly and I were one of the last ones to finish getting ready. We had helped each other with our hair and dresses and then makeup was brutal.

"I don't know how much longer I can stare at myself." I sighed, getting a headache from just being in the small room.

"You look gorgeous, if I was you I'd stare at myself all day." Belly said from beside me, making me laugh.

"You look amazing Bells, I don't think I'd be able to do this on my own."

I had curled my hair, adding braids to the sides for a more crown affect or so, while Belly's was in a low bun with a beautiful pearl headband.

"I think it's time, Bells." I said getting up as she followed.

Neither of us picked up the red rose bouquet, just staring at it.

I sighed looking up at her and grabbing her arms. "We're growing up, I love you."

At the same time, the two of us grabbed our bouquets, walking out of the dressing room.

I stood behind Belly as we waited for our names to be called.

"Prune. Prune." Belly whispered to herself.

"Oh god, did Susannah teach you that as well?" I asked.

She nodded as we both laughed silently.

"Isabel Conklin, daughter of John Conklin and Laurel Park." They said as Belly and Cam began walking the stage.

They met in the middle and I watched as Belly's face began to contort in multiple ways, attempting to say prune which I laughed at a little.

I looked straight ahead though, remembering the next person called would be me.

Jeremiah smiled at me from the other side of the wings.

Before I knew it, it was my turn.

"Y/N L/N, daughter of Amanda L/N and James L/N."

I walked and met Jeremiah in the middle.

I looked into the crowd, immediately making eye contact with Conrad. God his stupid smile. It just made me smile even more.

I could feel his eyes on me as I walked down from the stage and onto the dance floor.

"You look beautiful." Laurel mouthed to me.

I went to Susannah, hugging her from the back and giving her my bouquet.

She got up as well and gave me a full hug.

I gave a small curtsy as I made my way back to Jeremiah.

"How was the curtsy?" I asked.

"The queen would be proud," He joked.

It hit me now, that when I was with Jeremiah, it felt like there was no one else. All I had to do was look at him.

I watched Laurel get up from her seat quickly. My eyes met Belly's and she mouthed 'what happened'. I shrugged in response, not understanding what had happened either.

"Where is she going?" I asked Jeremiah.

"I don't know."

The escorts began their dance shortly after as the debs walked off the dance floor and sitting at their assigned tables.

The dance began and Belly and I wooed over the applause as we laughed as well. They looked hilarious, but the guys also looked like they were having the time of their lives.

We all stood up as their dance ended, applauding them and screaming, but I could see Jeremiah's face dropping with every second.

Paige clanked a knife to her glass, announcing to us that it was time for the big dance.

"Where'd Jeremiah go?" I asked Belly as I looked around. He never came back to the table.

Cam and Belly looked at each other, and now we knew our night was fucked.

"He'll be here in a minute, I'm sure." Susannah reassured me. "But go! Get ready."

"Okay," I said laughing nervously.

I looked around awkwardly, trying to find Jeremiah, but he wasn't anywhere. Most of the girls were paired up with their partners by now.

"Have you guys seen Jeremiah?" I asked as I approached Gigi and her group of friends.

"I think I saw him go outside." Gigi said to me.

I hated this feeling. Everyone standing and staring at me. Judging me almost.

I looked over to my right and Conrad was standing there, looking straight at me and I was staring straight at him.

I could feel the stares from everyone else as they stared at the two of us as well.

I smiled a little as he walked over to me.

It was like the pieces clicked when I was with Conrad. Like we were always meant to fucking be.

"I think I remember most of the steps." Conrad said quietly.

And at that moment, I knew this was happening all over again. Me. Conrad. Us.

The two of us got into our different lines, our eyes never leaving each others.

The music began and the two of us turned as I turned into his arm. It wasn't what I had expected, but deep down I knew this was the moment I had waited for all of my life.

I was Conrad's sun. And I helped the night disappear. I helped the world disappear from everything around him.

The whole time Conrad and I were on the dance floor, we never looked away. No matter how hard we tried, we just couldn't.

When it came time for the dip in the dance, it lasted longer than it was supposed to as our eyes glanced up and down from our eyes to each others mouths.

"Oh, um. Thank you." I said as the dance ended and the crowd applauded.

"I think I messed up some of the steps." Conrad said nervously.

"No, no, you were fine. You were great." I said.

"I'm glad... I'm glad that it was me." He said seriously.

I smiled up at him as he fidgeted with my fingers. I was glad that it was him as well. When I was with Conrad it was like all of my worries were gone.

"Hey." Jeremiah said as he came up to Conrad.

"Hey, Jeremiah." I smiled, "Where ha-"

"Conrad. We need to talk, all right?" Jeremiah said. His eyes were wet. "It's important. It's about mom. I found something out."

Conrad just stared at Jeremiah. "Um.. yeah, we'll talk about this later, okay?"

"No it's important." Jeremiah urged.

"It's okay." Conrad said as he placed his hand on Jeremiah's chest. Something the boys had done whenever the other was on edge.

"You already know... Don't you." Jeremiah's eyes were bloodshot by now.

"Conrad knows what?" I asked, curious.

"You've known this whole fucking time and you didn't even tell me?" Jeremiah asked, his voice raising.

"Jere." Conrad said to try to calm his brother down.

That didn't seem to work as I watched Jeremiah punch Conrad in the face with all the strength he had in him.

Jeremiah rammed into Conrad as he tried to beat his brother up. Though, I watched as Conrad tried his best to not hurt his brother.

Susannah rushed over, "Stop it. Both of you, stop it." Her voice was raised, which was a rare occurance.

Both of the boys let go of each other as they rolled on the floor.

"What is going on?" Susannah asked sternly.

The boys stood in front of her. And all I could do was wonder.

"Mom..." Jeremiah croaked.

"We know, Mom." Conrad said. "We both know."

Belly and I turned at each other, quietly mouthing what was going on.

"Know what?" Belly and I asked in sync as Susannah's face dropped.

And here I was, crying on the floor in my room. I didn't have anyone to go to. Susannah was with the boys, Laurel was with Belly and Steven.

All I had was the fact that Susannah had cancer yet again.

I don't think I've ever cried that much in my life. Not over a broken bone, or a heartbreak. Not over Conrad.

But here I was, in my shiny white dress, a mess on the floor as I sobbed uncontrollably.

I felt dumb, stupid even. Susannah had been going through this all summer, and I never noticed, to worked up over boys and friends.

I could hear the mixed cries from Belly's room. Some were hers and some were Laurels. With each one my heart broke even more. Now I understood why Susannah kept making comments about this summer.

She was right, this might be the last summer we're all in Cousins together.

I walked down the hall slowly out of my room. Steven was outside of Belly's room, looking as if he was to scared to knock.

Our eyes met and I sobbed even more as he held out his arms for me.

"It's gonna be okay, Y/N/N" He mumbled.

Susannah, Conrad, and Jeremiah all sat on the couch in the living room. None of them were crying. They saw me emerge from the doorway though.

Susannah motioned for me to sit next to her, in between Conrad and her, which I did.

"I'm so sorry, this was not how I wanted you guys to find out." Susannah said sadly.

"Susannah, you're gonna do the trial, right?" I asked through muffled sobs.

She hesitated as she looked at me, "Uh... No, love, I'm not."

My heart broke at her words as I stared at her for a moment longer. What did she mean? Was she insane? She needed to fight. For me. For the boys. For Laurel. For all of us.

Conrad seemed to break down slowly as well from besides me.

"Chances are very slight. Well, nonexistent really. And I can't just go through that again."

"But you have to try." I said, a tear escaping from my eye.

Susannah sighed, "I want to be me when I go." She stared at me with a soft smile, "Does that make sense?"

"No, no. None of this makes any sense." Jeremiah said.

"I know, I know, I'm not good at this." Susannah said through tears as she pushed aside some of Jeremiah's hair.

There was a bit of silence as we all were still processing what was happening. I didn't want to accept the fact that Susannah had cancer again. I just couldn't.

"If there's any chance that you can live you have to take it." Jeremiah pleaded. "Come on, Conrad. Tell her. Y/N?"

I just looked at Jeremiah and Conrad. I wanted to say something. I wanted to say everything.

"Why aren't you guys saying anything?" Jeremiah asked, his eyes red. "You have to try. You can't give up on us."

"Mom." Conrad's voice was hoarse and as he lifted his head up, the tears poured from his eyes. "Can't you just try? For us, Mom. I need you."

Susannah grabbed the boys as she hugged them tight. I didn't want Susannah to go

Our crying had subsided and Laurel began making food for us. Which meant this situation was horrible. Her cooking wasn't the best, especially for dinner. She had certain dishes she would make that tasted good though.

So here we all sat at the dinner table. Belly and I in more comfortable clothes because Susannah didn't want us to spill on our dresses, eating Chinese takeout, pizza, spaghetti noodles, and ice cream. It wasn't the ideal dinner, but it tasted good. We all bonded, as if nothing had ever been said.

Life has endless amounts of possibilities, but with whatever comes next, I know I can always return back to this place.

The waves rushed up against the shore, and it was a bright and colorful early morning. Conrad sat beside me, he was happy.

"I can't believe she said yes." He said happily.

"You did it. You changed her mind."

"It wasn't just me. It was Jere who did it as well." Conrad said.

I looked out at the waves as I felt his gaze still on me. I didn't want to turn around whatsoever.

"Y/N, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for being so shitty all summer."

I turned to him, "No, I know it's weird, and you had been going through all of this. I just wished you know, that would you communicate half of these things with me."

"Believe me, I wanted to talk." He said.

There was tension between us as our gazes traveled.

"We should go in." I said, looking around at the sand beside us

"There's so many things I want to say to you."

I sighed getting up, "Don't do it."

"Why?" He asked as he got up as well.

"'Cause you need someone right now, Conrad. I don't know what I am going to do to help when you do need help. We haven't even talked about the other relationship. Conrad, it's just messy."

"I don't just need somebody." He stared down at me, "I need you. Y/N, when I was with you I was the happiest I could of possibly been. Everyone knows that."

"You shouldn't have to need me. That's what you did last time. You needed me to just fix you out of your hell hole. I want you to want me, Conrad. You have to want me like I want you or it doesn't fucking work."

"I do want you. I've only wanted you."

There was silence between us as we just stared at one another.

His arm moved slowly up to the side of my cheek before he pulled me in, kissing. It felt alive, not needed, not desperate. It felt natural.

We kissed again, with much more passion this time. Everything was falling into places. Everything was just how it had to be.

Everything happens for a reason. Whether it's failing a test, or it's a stupid break up. The butterfly effect makes it come back around. Anything can happen, anything and everything. Just if you let it.

Not everyone goes out of style.

A/N : hi! after i know like a month of not being active, here is the last chapter of the series! i made sure to finish it before s2. thank you so much for the support recently.

i'm also so sorry if this isn't as good as the other chapters 😭

Also!!! if you have any prompts or ideas, feel free to message me and i'll write as soon as i can! thanks!

[igncrxntripley]

their secret weapon: little black dress

request: Okay so secret weapon doesn't wear black often right? What if she finally wears smth black for when they all go out and they all die? Maybe smth like the iconic black dress Maddie wears in euphoria?

tags: NSFW 18+, alcohol, exhibitionism, public touching/public sex, dom!finn, slight dom!damian, poly!judgement day, sub!reader, bottom!reader, teasing, fingering, humiliation

A/N: it was time for some TJD smut again SKJDKS also this is NOT part of the regular their secret weapon series, it’s just a one shot that is aside from the usual storyline so there won’t be much plot in this!! this is also for the finn lovers out there bc it was time he had his moment

mentions: @babybatlover​ @ripleyswhore​

Y/N was sick and tired of hearing from her partners that she didn’t wear enough black, or that she didn’t match the group. So when the group had decided they wanted to go out to a club on their weekend off, she decided it was time to give her partners what they wanted. An all black outfit consisting of a short black dress that accentuated every curve of her body, black heels, and a black purse was what Y/N went with, and she even did dark makeup on herself like Rhea’s to really give them what they wanted. 

The other four were downstairs waiting for their girl to finish. “Y/N, niñita, are you almost ready?” Dominik yelled up to their room where she was supposed to be finishing up. “We were supposed to leave thirty minutes ago.” Rhea playfully rolled her eyes and put her rings on her fingers. “I don’t know why you thought we were going to be on time.” She mumbled. “We’ve never been on time.” Before Dom could even give her an answer, the four of them turned to see Y/N walking downstairs; needless to say, every one of them was speechless at what they saw in front of them. She giggled at their reactions and gently tapped Damian’s cheek. “Close your mouth or you’ll catch flies, papi.” She teased and pulled on a jacket over her dress. 

Finn blinked a couple of times before he finally managed to speak up. “I…wow, baby. We just…you look so…” Y/N raised her eyebrow waiting for a response, in which Finn cleared his throat without finishing his sentence. She playfully rolled her eyes at him in her own response. “You told me to match you guys, so I did.” She said before giving each of her partners a gentle kiss on their cheeks. “We’re ready to go now?”

The fivesome left their house and went out to a nightclub, once again showing that The Judgement Day gets rowdy when they party. Y/N was shocked they didn’t run the bar dry with how many rounds of drinks and bottles they were ordering, but after a certain point none of them cared. They were all in their own little world, in a private booth at the club where each of them were touching and kissing one another without a care in the world. Rhea and Dom were on one end of the booth, cuddling and swaying to the music while Y/N sat between Finn and Damian on the other end. 

Finn couldn’t get enough of Y/N with this new look of hers; to be honest, he didn’t even think it would have that much of an effect on him. He sat behind her with his arms around her body while Damian was in front of her, the Irishman leaving kisses on her neck and shoulder as she exchanged kisses with ‘The Punisher.’ “You don’t even realize how fuckin’ crazy you make me,” Finn mumbled against her skin. “You look stunning, my love.” Y/N smiled at his words, one hand holding his while the other was holding Damian’s cheek. “I gave you what you wanted.” She teased. 

Even though the music around them was loud and the club was busy, it felt like the five of them in the booth were the only people in the world. Specifically, Y/N felt like it was just her and two of her boys giving her all of the attention she deserved. No one ever made her feel like this before she met The Judgement Day, but here she was; making out with her partners in the middle of the club, their hands dangerously close to places she’d only let them have access to. One of Finn’s hands had snaked its way to the inside of her thighs and was slowly getting closer to her panties. It made Y/N shiver with anticipation and need, so much so that she pushed her hips closer to his fingers just so he’d be able to touch. Finn chuckled once he felt her clothed pussy and immediately began to move his fingers in a circular motion. “Let me take care of you, babygirl.” He mumbled into her ear. 

Rhea and Dom had taken note from their end of the booth and began to watch. They couldn’t expect the two of them to not do anything, especially when Y/N looked the way she did. Damian took note as well and took hold of their girl’s chin to make her look up at him. “She doesn’t even understand what she does to us.” He said, turning her face to show Rhea and Dominik. “Our girl knows exactly what she did when she left the house like this.” Y/N smirked at his words and bit her lip as Finn’s fingers worked their magic. The other two smiled at Y/N and Rhea couldn’t help but let out a small moan at the sight. “Make sure there’s some left for us when we get home.” She teased. 

Y/N tightened her thighs around Finn’s hand and finger as he got her closer and closer to her breaking point. “Oh my god…” she whined softly, leaning her head back against Finn’s shoulder. He pulled her into a passionate kiss and squeezed her body tighter to his. “Cum for us, baby.” Y/N blushed and looked at him as she whined, all of a sudden very aware they were doing this in public. Finn noticed though, and that only made him work harder to get what he wanted out of her. “It’s just us. Show us you’re a good girl.” He encouraged, his thumb working her clit while his finger teased her entrance; Finn was only giving her a sneak peak of what she was going to get when they got home, he just couldn’t help but do it now. 

With Finn’s encouragement in her ear and Damian’s hands still gently wandering over her body, Y/N stiffened under their touch and reached her climax for her partners in the middle of the booth. She gasped against Finn’s lips and moved her hips against his fingers to work herself over, and she could hear all of her partners encouraging and teasing her as they watched. Her cheeks were bright red from embarrassment and stimulation, but Y/N still smiled at each of her partners while catching her breath. Dominik was the first to speak up as he finished his drink, Rhea’s hand palming him and not once leaving that spot the entire time they watched. “Please tell me it’s time to go?”

[feraltuxedo]

A Tentative WIP Wednesday

I'm in the throes of a serious bout of writer's block at the moment, but very slowly a new fic is emerging. I'm only getting a few sentences written each day, but it's better than nothing, right?

With this one, I'm sticking very firmly to my comfort zone.

Since there's been so much love for Intermezzo in the past few weeks (thank you to all of you who have read and enjoyed it), and this new fic is very much Intermezzo 2.0 in terms of tropes, vibes.... everything really... what better time to share a bit of it?

Anyway, here's a snippet of said WIP. Ex rockstar Crowley meets classical musician Aziraphale. Rock music and bickerflirting aplenty:

Aziraphale was still digging through the mess of cables on the search for one that didn’t look like it might electrocute his bass guitar, when the door opened again.

This time it really was Anthony Crowley who strode through it. In the flesh. God, he was striking. Taller than Aziraphale had imagined, and skinnier. In his Hellspawn days, he’d been dressed in heavy leather jackets and those impossibly tight jeans everyone insisted on wearing a decade ago. His hair had trailed behind him like a cloud made of pure fire when he’d strutted across the stage in snake-skin boots. Statuesque, drawn in sharp lines like a Picasso masterpiece come to life.

Present-day Crowley looked a lot more casual in a black hoodie, short hair, and, surprisingly, no sunglasses. A guitar case was slung over one shoulder, a messenger bag across the other. Like any other mortal walking the streets of London. Still outrageously good-looking, mind, middle age be damned. Aziraphale barely had time to notice the deep brown colour of his eyes, before they glared right at him.

‘Can’t get an espresso anywhere in this place. Oi Blondie, be an angel and go fetch one, would you? Double shot, no sugar.’

Aziraphale jumped to his feet. He’d never before felt quite so threatened by the words be an angel. The pathetic part of his brain that was still stuck in 2015 didn’t fail to point out that Anthony Crowley snapping at him to get coffee was the hottest thing that had happened to him all year.

Anathema stopped him with an outstretched arm before he reached the door, eyebrow raised in disapproval.

‘Don’t you fucking dare.’

He flinched at the fire in her voice before he realised it was aimed squarely at Anthony Crowley.

‘You don’t have the name, money, or credibility to boss people around these days, so shut up, sit down, and listen.’

Crowley waved his arms about to demonstrate the rehearsal room's utter lack of seating options. Even the drum stool was cluttered with assorted cardboard boxes. Anathema ignored him.

‘Aziraphale isn’t your personal coffee boy. He’s in the band, so you better treat him right or you’ll be playing without a bass, which is literally impossible.’

Crowley crossed his arms.

‘Jim Morrison managed.’

‘You’re not Jim Morrison.’

‘And the White Str—’

Anathema cut him off with a sound that could only be described as a hiss.

Anthony Crowley turned to face him again, and god-in-heaven, Aziraphale was not prepared for the effect of the man he’d spent many a lonely night fantasising about actually acknowledging his existence.

Admittedly, he didn’t look all that pleased about it.

‘So you’re actually a bass player? Like a proper one?’

Alright, that wasn’t the tone he’d hoped to hear out of Anthony Crowley’s mouth. Aziraphale picked up his bass guitar and clutched it tight, with the sinking feeling that perhaps there was truth to that saying about never meeting one’s heroes.

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘You look like you’ve just passed your grade four exam, paid for by mummy.’

‘Actually, I have an MMus in Performance.’

‘A what?’

‘A Master’s degree.’

Which is more than Anthony Crowley had managed. 3 GCSEs, and none of them in music, if Wikipedia was to be believed. Aziraphale held onto just enough tact not to point that out. He raised his chin a fraction and noticed a shift in Anthony Crowley’s gaze, perhaps a smidgen of respect creeping into those deep brown eyes.

‘You can get a degree in bass guitar?’

‘You can, though mine’s in cello.’

Crowley’s eyes narrowed and the trace of respect vanished, as if he had a personal vendetta against the cello. That certainly didn’t bode well for Aziraphale’s prospects in his band.

‘Yeah, well, I don’t think faffing about with an overpriced bit of wood between your legs qualifies you to play in my band. Not that I wouldn’t pay good money to see that, mind…’

The mix of embarrassment, indignation, and the hot flush of feeling star struck did strange things to Aziraphale. It made him drop his bass, which landed on his foot. This was great news for the bass, since Aziraphale’s foot was a good deal softer than the thin carpet.

Not such great news, however, for his toes.

‘Botheration,’ he yelped, grabbing the bass to lean it against one of the many amps that surrounded him.

‘Botheration?’ Crowley repeated. ‘Fucking hell, Anathema, where d’you find these people?’

Anathema’s disapproving eyebrow rose a little higher.

‘I found him at a strip club, actually.’

‘I was playing the cello!’ Aziraphale corrected hastily, as he wiggled his toes, just to make sure they were all still attached.

The G String was London’s only classical-music themed strip club. Or at least that was what the manager claimed, and Aziraphale had never bothered googling the matter. The music was easy, the audience distracted enough not to notice when he hadn’t practiced that week.

Crowley’s gaze shot back to Aziraphale, raking over him from head to throbbing toe and back. The irritation from just a moment ago made way to… admiration? Sweet Jesus, he was looking at him, and he clearly liked what he saw, judging by the small smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth.

‘With your clothes on?’

‘Of course with my clothes on,’ Aziraphale huffed, trying his hardest not to look too pleased with the once-over he was receiving.

[icarusignite]

So i have a weird reaquest heheh i just read you finan x reader where they die instead of osferth and the final sentence being about them meeting in heaven SO i got this idea about like in the next life maybe like a modern AU they meet by accident in our time like idk the boys go to a bar or something after a day of work and she is there and Finan just feels like they know each other and something and massive fluff!!!

Thank you<3333

A/N: Heyyoo, I love love loved this request, so cute. Hope you like this fic. I had alot of fun writing the "in another world" vibes lol. This is my first time writing modern AU so apologies if it's abit nonsensey.

Word Count: 2.5K

Pairing: Finan x Fem! Reader (no use of y/n), Modern AU

AO3

In this labyrinth of time, our souls entwined

The bar hummed with an energetic atmosphere, vibrant and alive. Warm, dimmed lights cast a golden glow across the space, illuminating the polished wooden surfaces and richly upholstered seating. The air was filled with the mingling scents of aged whiskey, fragrant hops, and delectable cuisine, creating an inviting aroma that embraced the four men who had just entered.

The sounds of conversation, laughter, and clinking glasses merged harmoniously, creating a symphony of human connection. Patrons leaned against the sleek bar, engaged in animated discussions, their voices rising and falling like waves crashing on a distant shore. Bartenders, skilled and swift, expertly crafted cocktails, their movements a well-practiced dance behind the counter. The clatter of shakers, the clinking of ice, and the pop of corks added a rhythmic backdrop to the bustling scene. There was also the occasional burst of applause that erupted from a corner where groups engaged in friendly games of darts or pool. The walls were adorned with eclectic artwork, vintage posters, and memorabilia, and the music, carefully curated to suit the mood, resonated throughout the room. 

As for Finan, Osferth, Uhtred, and Sihtric, they navigated their way through the bustling crowd, exchanging nods and friendly greetings with familiar faces along the way. Their destination was a cozy booth nestled against the far wall, worn leather seats beckoning like old friends. The table, scarred with marks of countless conversations and camaraderie, stood as a testament to the memories made within its embrace and the friends settled into their respective spots, each claiming their corner of comfort. 

"Now, Osferth," Finan teased, nudging his friend playfully. "Remember, moderation is key tonight. We don't want a repeat of last time, do we?"

"Hey, that was not my fault!" Osferth retorted. "Sihtric was the one who made that stupid wager."

"Well, whatever it was, your girlfriend wasn't too happy about having to drag your drunk ass back home when we called her," Sihtric smirked.

Uhtred rolled his eyes, "How'd someone like you even get a girlfriend Osferth?"

"You're just jealous that our boy here is in an actually stable relationship. Maybe you should learn a lesson or two from him?" Finan threw an arm around the blushing younger boy. 

"What, and deny the ladies all this?" Uhtred spread his arms wide and gestured to himself, making the table erupt in snickers. 

Osferth's face reddened slightly as he chuckled, his eyes flickering with embarrassment, "I'll make sure I don't lose it today. I don't really wanna bother her."

"Awww, he's in loooove," everyone cooed together, making Osferth blush harder.

"Can we-uh-can we just order, please!"

Uhtred raised his hand and summoned one of the waitresses over. She was a confident-looking woman, and when she caught sight of the boys, her eyes sparkled with familiarity and warmth. 

"Evening, gentlemen. What can I get for you today?" she grinned. "Will it just be the usual?"

Uhtred raised a hand to his heart, "Oh you flatter us Amelia, you know us so well."

"It's only right that I remember the order of my best tippers," she winked.

"I supposed it does help that we come in here every Friday night and order the exact same thing?" Sihtric raised an eyebrow playfully.

"I suppose. So yes, the usual then?"

"Thanks, Amelia, you're a doll," Uhtred smiled widely and leaned conspiratorially toward her. "And by the way-"

"Nuh-uh, don't try that with me," Amelia tapped her pen against her notepad. "Cassie from last week was here earlier and she did not look happy."

"Hmm, I wonder what that was about."

"Uhtred..." she warned, equal parts amused and annoyed.

"Oh c'mon, it's not my fault she got attached. It was a one-night kind of thing."

"Uhtred, Uhtred, Uhtred."

"Amelia, Amelia, Amelia, your disappointment in me stings."

Amelia rolled her eyes, "Good. You should learn from Osferth here. Now this is a true gentleman."

She ruffled his hair affectionately, making Uhtred groan.

"I'll send someone over with the food and drinks boys. Have a good time!"

As she walked away, Uhtred leaned back in his seat, a self-satisfied grin playing on his lips, "Did you see the way she looked at me? No woman can resist my charm."

Finan chuckled, shaking his head. "Oh, Uhtred, your ego knows no bounds. She's definitely not into you!"

"Hey, but she could!"

Sihtric sniggered, "Leave it to Uhtred to flirt with every pretty face he comes across."

"And besides, there's no way she'd be into you when you go around breaking the hearts of every woman in her establishment," Osferth chimed in.

Just then, their drinks arrived, and Uhtred was saved from responding. He took his glass absentmindedly from the news server, eyes still lingering on the woman who had retreated behind the counter and was now currently issuing orders. 

The four friends were just raising their glasses, toasting to the adventures they had shared and those yet to come, when there was a sudden hush in the atmosphere. The boys turned their eyes toward the commotion along with everyone else in the room. 

A drunken man, fueled by liquid courage, had crossed the line of decency, attempting to grope a young woman who had been enjoying her drink in solitude at the bar. The atmosphere crackled with a mix of anger and concern, a collective discomfort rippling through the patrons. The woman's discomfort was palpable, her eyes darting around for help as she swallowed nervously. Uhtred stood, accompanied by his friends, ready to step in immediately, but then a figure burst through the crowd.

You were fierce and unyielding as you emerged, eyes flashing with defiance. Your voice boomed with a fiery determination as you confronted the perpetrator. 

"Get your fucking hands off her before I cut them off!"

The drunken man, taken aback by the unexpected confrontation, slurred a profanity-laden response "Mind your own business. The whore was asking for it."

The victim, your friend whom you had left unattended for a moment while you went to the washroom, shuddered at his words and it made your blood boil. You stood your ground with unwavering resolve, managing to stare down your nose at him despite being almost several inches shorter. 

"And you know what you're asking for, you pig? A fucking beating?"

The drunk man snarled and the entire bar waited with bated breath. Finan watched you curiously. He had never seen you in his entire life, he knew that much for sure, and yet there was something about you that seemed so familiar. Something about the steely determination in your glare and the way your voice echoed without strain. He found himself worrying for your safety just then, and he told himself that it was just very human of him to be wishing for the safety of a fellow patron of the bar.

"Oh yeah, and who'd gonna give me the beating? A pathetic thing like you?"

The drunkard lunged toward you, his intentions clear. But he had gravely underestimated your strength and resolve. In a swift movement, you dodged his attack, your smaller stature and sober mind giving you the advantage of speed and better coordination. Your fist connected with his jaw in a powerful counterstrike. There was a satisfying crunch and he crumpled with a howl. The sound reverberated through the room, silencing it for a split second before the eruption of applause and cheers.

"Alright, the show's over, get that fucking clown out of my bar!" Amelia finally arrived at the scene with security and everyone watched them throw the man out, returning the familiar buzz of conversation to the environment. 

The aftermath of the confrontation still hung in the air as Finan, Osferth, Uhtred, and Sihtric returned to their booth, feeling quite impressed at your bravery. However, there was something else lingering in the air—Finan's undeniable fascination with you. 

As they settled back into their seats, Osferth's eyes twinkled mischievously, "Finan, my friend, it seems your attention was captured by more than just the excitement of the moment."

Uhtred chuckled, leaning back with a knowing grin, "Indeed, it appears our fearless Finan has met his match. A strong-willed woman who can throw a punch? I totally see the appeal."

Finan's cheeks flushed, a mix of embarrassment and amusement tugging at the corners of his lips. "No, no, it's not that. I feel like-I feel like I know her."

"You seen her before?" Sihtric raised an eyebrow.

"A one-night-"

"No! Nothing like that!"

Uhtred raised his hands placatingly, "Alright, alright. Shall I ask Amelia then? Maybe she's a regular here?"

"Maybe, I don't know."

"Just go talk to her Finan," Sihtric sighed in exasperation. 

"What if she thinks I'm a creep or something?"

"Oh I think she's more than capable enough to handle creeps don't you think?"

"Hey! I don't wanna be handled like a creep!" Finan exclaimed indignantly.

"Well then, you better be on your most gentlemanly behaviour dude," Osferth clapped a hand on his shoulder.

With the resounding support of his friends, Finan steeled his nerves and rose from the booth once more. He crossed the bar, weaving through the mingling crowds until he reached your side. You were still comforting your friend in hushed whispers when she nudged you to turn your attention to the newcomer.

Finan wore an easy confident smile as he leaned against the bar, eyes twinkling with mischief.

"You know," he began, his voice filled with playful charm, "I could swear we've crossed paths before. Perhaps in a previous life?"

You snorted, "Oh wow. That was-"

"Charming?"

"Oh, is that your go-to line?" you raised your eyebrow unimpressed. 

"Well, it hasn't failed me yet. But I must admit, it doesn't seem to be working splendidly in this instance," he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

"Well, consider my curiosity piqued, charming stranger."

"Finan, at your service," he extended his hand which you took in a firm handshake.

The moment your palms met, a kaleidoscope of emotions and sensations cascaded through his being, and Finan felt a jolt of familiarity as if the tapestry of time had woven your destinies together long before your paths had crossed here in this bar. Time itself seemed to stutter, as though a forgotten melody had suddenly resurfaced, stirring memories buried deep within him and his heartbeat quickened. He knew you, he could swear it. Within that ephemeral moment, the boundaries of space blurred, and the present moment fused seamlessly with echoes of the past and the whispers of the future. The sensation transcended the confines of the physical world, creating a bridge that spanned eons, traversing the realms of memory and eternity. Finan then pulled away, feeling quite foolish. No girl had ever made him feel this way before but surely it was foolish to be drawn this way to a stranger he had just met. He looked up at you, trying to deduce whether or not you felt a similar connection, or if this familiarity was something on his part alone. 

Your eyes were warm as you smiled at him, but there was no recognition in them. That was all well enough, he supposed. The stressful week must be getting to him. This was the first time he'd seen you because there was no way he'd ever forget someone like you if you had made his acquaintance in the past. 

"So, will I get to know your name, or are you determined to stay an enigma?"

Your smile grew wider as you introduced yourself. 

"That was quite a punch back there," Finan eyed your bruised knuckles in concern. "I must say, I'm impressed."

You laughed, the sound echoing through his ears pleasantly. 

"Flattery will get you far, Finan. But tell me, do these lines usually work for you?"

Finan leaned in, his tone conspiratorial, "I'd say they've got about a 50/50 success rate. Though I must confess, it's never been quite as genuine as it is with you."

"Well, you certainly have a way with words. Perhaps, just this once, I'll let you get away with it."

"Wow, in that case, would you let me buy you a drink?"

"Hmm, I'd like that. Thank you."

Finan flagged down the bartender, ordering your preferred drink. Then, with a worried glint in his eyes, he added, "And may we also have some ice for her bruised knuckles, if you don't mind."

The bartender returned, placing your drinks on the bar along with a small bowl of ice. Finan took a few napkins and wrapped a few pieces of ice in them, reaching out to brush his fingers gently across yours.

"May I?"

You nodded hesitantly, and he pressed the cool relief to your knuckles, making you sigh. 

You smiled, "Thank you. It's not often I find someone who pays such attention to the little things."

After that, the conversation seemed easy, your words flowing effortlessly like a dance. The bar's ambient sounds faded into the background, leaving you wrapped in a cocoon of shared laughter and connection. You didn't even notice your friend slip away from your side, leaving you two alone at the counter. 

Finan's friends observed the scene from their booth, their eyes fixated on their smitten companion. Uhtred leaned in, his voice filled with mischief. "Well, well, it seems Finan has truly met his match."

Osferth nodded, a warm smile on his face as he watched the two of you laugh and engage in witty banter, "He's found someone who can match his wit I guess. It's entertaining for sure."

"How long before he works up the nerve to ask her out?" Sihtric chimed in.

"If he hasn't already," Uhtred pointed out.

"Nah, I don't think he's done it yet. He seems different this time."

"Oh you think you're the expert now Osferth," Sihtric nudged him with his elbow.

"Well, I am the one with the long-term relationship, so yeah, I guess that makes me the expert. We can't very well call Uhtred the expert now can we?"

Back at the bar, you and Finan had continued to share stories, your laughter intertwined with glimmers of vulnerability and shared interests. Finan leaned closer, his voice uttering your name sincerely.

"You know, there's something about you that is so truly captivating. I find myself drawn to your spirit, and I can't help but want to know more."

"My spirit huh? Damn, you definitely have a way with words. So what is it that you want to know, Finan?"

"Everything. I want to know your dreams, your passions, and the adventures that have made you the person you are. I want to know everything about you!"

"Oh."

"If you'll let me of course," he amended quickly, not wanting to scare you off.

Your cheeks flushed a deep red, "I assure you my life has been very ordinary so far, but perhaps you shall hear about it another time."

Finan reached out, gently taking your hand in his, "I eagerly await that time. Until then, may I have the honour of taking you out for dinner?"

"Oh," your eyes widened. "Well...okay yeah, I'd like that. I'd like that very much, Finan."

Your voice tugged at his heart. The cadence of your voice, the melody of your laughter, and the animated movements of your hands, as you talked, resonated deep within him, stirring emotions that defied explanation. The sense of déjà vu enveloped him, painting the air with shades of nostalgia and anticipation. he tried his best to recall the origin of this profound connection, but they slipped through his fingers like whispers in the wind. 

His heart called your name, even though it had just learned the shape of it today and your souls, separated by the veil of existence, recognized each other anyways.

[ad0rechuu]

★ MILKY WAY. ━━ (032) as hot as i expected

WORD COUNT. 1222

WARNINGS. idk insecurity? also tall yn supremacy!!

credits to @ari-shipping-stuff for being my beta reader / writer <33

DISAPPOINTMENT AND GUILTY— THAT’S WHAT YOU ARE FEELING RIGHT NOW AS YOUR’E STANDING IN FRONT OF YOU WERE SUPPOSE TO MEET TAEGYU AT.

Disappointed that your crush had called you to cancel your plans last minute. Guilty for feeling disappointed and embarrassed because you must look stupid to passersby staring down at the pavement with your phone in your hand.

Staring blankly at your call records, it’s not like you are mad at Taegyu or anything. When he had called he was clearly distressed and out of breath, saying he couldn’t come because an emergency had happened involving someone close to him.

You don’t blame him. It’s nice that he still thought to call you in such a situation, but there is still a part of you that can’t ignore this weird, uncomfortable feeling in your chest.

Stuffing your phone in your coat pocket, you decide that it’s better to go, before you actually start bawling on the street. You are selfishly craving for comfort.

Seonghwa watches his friends scold the current youngest for leading them to San’s parents' cafe while he wasn’t even working.

The shortest of the bunch huffs in annoyance before accepting that they aren’t getting free drinks today.

“Alright since someone loves to do shit without thinking first, what do you guys want to instead?”

Wooyoung shoots an offend look at Hongjoong.

“It’s not my fault that he wasn’t working today? He always works on Fridays!” he exclaims, his voice raising in pitch an embarrassing amount.

“If it’s not your fault then who is it? You didn’t even ask him!” The yellow-orange haired giant next to him yells in a similar volume.

Seonghwa finally speaks up. “Can you guys please lower your voices, people are staring at us!”

“Let them! My nickname isn’t eye candy for nothing.” Wooyoung spreads his arms and twirls in place, nearly hitting a costumer trying to get to the cafe.

“No one calls you that—” Mingi doesn’t get to finish his sentence as the sound of an item falling on the concrete cuts him off.

The older two let out a gasp as Hongjoong pulls their friend out of the disoriented strangers way.

“Oh my god, we are so sorry!” Hongjoong forcefully bows with Wooyoung, the other two following suit.

“I-It’s okay.”

Mingi bends down to retrieve the phone, his eyes widen as he notices a crack across the screen. He inspects it a little longer to make sure that the only damage before noticing a familiar group chat name.

“Huh?”

The person still doesn’t look up but gently grabs their phone out of his hand.

“Don’t worry the crack was already there.” They say with nod of goodbye before walking around the four boys to reach the door.

“Wait!”

Mingi’s loud call startles not only the target person but also his friends and a random passerby, they look at him in confusion as the person turns back around, finally making eye contact with him. A smile only visible in her eyes slowly makes its way on her face as she realizes.

“Yn?” Mingi carefully asks as the girl pulls down her mask.

Seonghwa, who stands closest to her, raises his hand to his neck to subtly check his pulse. He is so sure his heart stopped when her eyes meet his briefly. This is the person he has been dreaming about for years. The moment he has been imagining is happening right at this very moment. He can’t believe it!

“How come every time I'm at this cafe I meet one of you?” Yn laughs. The dark circles underneath her eyes are still noticeable but her smile outshines it.

She first walks to Hongjoong who quickly lets go of Wooyoung to meet her halfway. They embrace each other in a passionate hug, one that was a long time coming.

“It’s been so long Yn!”

��Too long, in my opinion.” Her hands fall on his shoulders as she looks at her childhood friend for the first time in about 16 years. “You lied to me, by the way.”

Hongjoong doesn’t answer but gives her a confused look.

“You said you were taller than me now!”

Wooyoung and Mingi erupt in cackles while Hongjoong rolls his eyes, still holding the girl.

“There is not that much of a difference!”

A whine comes from Wooyoung as he walks up behind his friend with a pout. “Hyung, you never let me hug you that long.”

Hongjoong turns around and smacks the back of the younger ones head with a warning look.

As Wooyoung rubs the back of his head dramatically, his eyes scan Yn. Instantly, he seems to forget about his pain and he pushes his hyung out of the way to take his place.

“Yn! You are as hot as I expected.”

They share a quick hug while laughing. “Not as hot as me though.”

Now it's Yn's turn to roll her eyes.

“Careful, Wooyoung. I might make you pay for my phone.” She shoves him playfully out of the way to get to Mingi.

A wide smile has been on Mingi’s face and his cheeks have been red since he called her name. He immediately takes her hands in his own, mirroring what happened at their first meeting.

“Princess! We meet again.” Is all that she says and Mingi feels as if the butterflies in his stomach are having a party.

She looks up at the tallest of the bunch innocently, like she didn’t just make him one of the happiest men alive just with her presence.

“Y-You..I— w-we..... uh?” He stumbles over his words when he looks into her eyes. All the while, her thumb calmly massages his knuckles in an attempt to calm him down.

Eventually, it works and he manages to get his words out.

“You are prettier t-than I remember.” He stammers. “I-I mean even prettier. You were pretty back then too…” His voice trails off in embarrassment.

“I knew what you meant, Mingi.” She doesn’t laugh at his mistake, she only nods understandingly with a grateful look on her face. “You are adorable, the name princess really fits you!”

The smile on his face grows even bigger, too happy to say anything back. He is ecstatic that someone called him adorable, let alone his idol!

Yn turns around and softly lets go of Mingi’s hands, making her way to the oldest of the group.

Although it hurts his pride to admit, a little part of Seonghwa was scared that she forgot about him when he saw her interacting with everyone but him.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t forget about you.” She tells him as if she can read his mind. She scans his face as his eyes avoid her own nervously.

The pink haired boy doesn’t speak but internally his mind is going a thousand kilometers per hour.

Suddenly, her arms wrap around his shoulders, pulling him into a gentle hug. “You are even prettier than in the photos, Hwa!”

His arms wrap around her waist and his face falls into the crook of her neck. His mind finally wraps around the very real feelings he has been trying to push down.

When he makes eye contact with Mingi, their minds are seemingly connected as the same realization dawns on them.

They are in trouble.

‹ PREVIOUS ᜊ NEXT ›

NOTES. 난 Trou-ou-ou-ouble! Trouble! Trou-trouble maker! anyway to yn these boys are becoming her rocks that’s i’m all i’m gonna say for now also look at profiles chapters if u forgot how mingi met yn

TAGLIST. @bunnystrm @seongwin @aestheticsluut @meginthebuilding27 @gaebestie @stopeatread @pr1ncessm1ng1 @persphonesorchid @se0nghwaswife @seonghwasslytherin @leeknowsnothing @alixnsuperstxr @bluehwale-main @miriamxsworld @tocupid @lvsmeph @sunoo-bby @jcngh0-hq @dudufodd @nikisbf @mrowwww @end0rchans @qtdenks @mintgki @dear-dreamie @leo-seonghwa @legohwas @evilsailorsenshi @seonghwaddict @choichaeyiul @iw4milf @yunstarz @cvberidiot @tubatu-wari-wari

[shes4twnksinatrnchct]

Hell of a Show

Jake Kiszka x fem oc

Fifteen years after resigning from Greta Van Fleet, for reasons undisclosed to the public, Coley Payne is asked by her former band members to tell her side of the story.

Words: 6.1k

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, explicit language, angst, first love, alcohol abuse, mental health struggles, mentions of cheating, arguing

Thank you guys so much for the patience for this next chapter. These last few weeks have been difficult for me, but getting to write and share it with you guys helps immensely. Thank you for your continued support, I appreciate it so much!

Please keep in mind this is a work of fiction and enjoy!

TAG LIST: @takenbythemadness , @fleetingjake , @zooweemama555 , @lizzys-sunflower , @edgingthedarkness , @hollyco

***LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED***

***Table of Contents***

The Rise: Part II

SAMMY: We’d take these trips to Yankee Springs in the winter every year—our family, family friends, and practically anybody who wanted to join in—and we’d just play music all weekend around a fire or in the cabins, or by the lake…we’d lose track of time and play from sunset to sunrise, and then do it all over again. 

Coley and her family started coming with us around 2010…2017 was the last year we had enough time off to go up there…ironically enough it was also the first time Coley quit the band.

There’s a rustling of bags that rattle through the cabin’s kitchen as the few groceries for the weekend are packed away by their parents—Lori, Karen, and Tammy’s laughter predominately heard over anyone else’s conversation while the continue to gather up the grocery bags to put them away. 

The sound plucks a chord in Coley’s memory…

“…They had a buy two get two on these,” Tammy pats a box of macaroni with a sigh while Coley puts the milk in the fridge, “Maisie and Emi both eat through these so I got four.” 

“Not bad.” Coley absentmindedly carries on the conversation, reaching for a bag of potato chips to put in the pantry. 

“Oh! Guess who I saw?” 

She doesn’t bother looking at her mother, merely asking, “Who?”

Coley shuts the pantry, reaching for the pack of paper towels as Tammy casually mentions, “Lisa.”

Lisa. 

Holton’s mother. 

“Oh,” Coley states, not quite sure why she’d even mention that, but lets her, anyway. 

“She’s had to pick up a second job there ever since Ron got laid off, you know.” 

“I thought they were split up?” 

“They’ve been off and on the last year, apparently,” Tammy shrugs, “I wonder how Holton’s dealing with that.” 

Coley pauses at the mention of his name, slowly looking at the back of her mom’s head. 

“Why’re we wondering about my ex-boyfriend?”

“He’s doing better, now, you know. He’s at U of M, he’s got his priorities straightened out…” Tammy carries on, not noticing her daughter’s complete lack of interest in this topic. 

“I told her to let him know we said, ‘hey’, and we hope everything goes well.” 

The bottle of ketchup Coley has yet to put away falls from her hand and clatters onto the counter. 

“You did what?” 

Tammy looks at her, a hand coming to her hip when she realizes that Coley’s scowling over what she’s said. 

“What, am I not supposed to offer well wishes to a boy that was in our lives—”

“—‘Was’, Mom. ‘Was’ is the keyword in that sentence,” She snaps suddenly, “He’s not in our lives anymore so you shouldn’t have even mentioned him.” 

“Okay, firstly, I don’t appreciate your tone right now. Secondly—”

“—I don’t appreciate you talking to my ex-boyfriend’s mom like he and I are still together. It’s disrespectful.”

“It’s disrespectful?!” Tammy gawks, “To who?!”

“To me, and to Jake,” Coley argues, somewhat confused by her mother’s inability to grasp how inappropriate it is.

“Ohh,” Tammy’s tone of faux understanding, paired with the placement of her hand over her chest as if realizing the severity of what she’s done, only infuriates her daughter, “God, forgive me, honey, please. I didn’t realize how disrespectful I was being to send along good luck to a boy who’s good friend hooked up with his girlfriend, then threw him out of their band—though that seemed a little disrespectful to me, but what the hell do I know, right?” 

Her lips press together and her tongue catches in her teeth, forcing herself not to say the first thing that comes to her mind in case that’s not what she actually wants to say at this moment. 

Her silence permits Tammy to continue. 

“I just feel bad for the kid, Coley. I did when you guys broke up, and I can’t help but feel bad, now. Honestly, I mean, really, can we just take a moment to admit that guys went about it so wrong?”

The young woman can’t stand it anymore, unable to stifle herself any longer, her throat aching with a lump trying to form in it before she asks:

“Like you when dad stepped out?” 

She feels her mother’s eyes bearing into her back, Coley’s hands shaking as she finishes unpacking grocery items. 

“We’re not talking about this, Coley,” Tammy shakes her head, refusing to have this conversation, but her strong-headed daughter won’t relent. 

“‘Fine, Cole, I’ll take you back and make you think we’re on the mend’,” Coley misquotes her mother. 

“Coley, that’s enough, stop it—”

“—‘And then give it about six months, and then I’m gonna take our girls to your good friend Jeff’s house so they can have a playdate with his daughter, while Jeff and I—”

“—Coley June, I said, ‘enough’!” Tammy’s voice carries through the empty house as she shouts it, the two women staring one another in the eye, bearing witness to the beginning of tears in each of them…

Coley feels as if she’s being strangled as she lets out a defeated, shaky sigh. 

Tears fall from her eyes with ease before she’s aggressively swiping them away. 

“…Between you and dad, I got it really fucking honest,” Coley nods as she speaks it quietly, not caring if her mom’s privy to hearing her curse so blatantly, adding, “All Jake did was be there at the wrong time when I made the decision to cheat on my poor, innocent ex-boyfriend you feel so damn bad for…”

The ringing of her phone pulls her to fully wake up, brows scrunched while trying to remember where she put it while Sammy comments, “Good morning, Princess.” 

“Where’s my phone?” She ignores him, scowling when she can’t find it despite hearing it ring as if it’s in her ear. 

“Coley’s phone,” Josh answers it, looming over the back of the couch, and she glares up at him when he pulls away from her after she reaches her hand out to him, “Oh, she’s pre-disposed at the moment, might I take a message?” 

“Josh,” Coley complains, her older sister chuckling while she stands to her feet on the couch and nearly lunges herself at him. 

“She’s extra bitchy today, might I add,” Josh warns whoever’s on the other line. 

“You can’t say that, Josh, girls don’t like it,” Sammy advises from the living room as Josh starts walking away from the blonde, only for her to snatch the back of his sweater. 

It catches his throat and he chokes, then proceeds to crack himself, and Sherri and Sammy, up in a laugh, giving Coley time to grab her phone. 

“Hello?” She finally asks. 

“I just want you to know how much I love you because Austin was extra bitchy earlier today and I didn’t fight him in the parking lot like I wanted to because who the fuck else is gonna cover your shifts when you go frolicking with your gaggle of heathens,” Bella pipes the moment she hears her voice while Coley offers an apologetic look to Josh who’s rubbing his neck. 

“Thank you, B. I really appreciate it,” Coley replies, reaching her hand out to pat Josh’s back and he sarcastically flinches as if she’s going to hit him, causing her to roll her eyes, “And maybe next year I’ll be making enough money for us both to quit so we can come up here anytime we want,” she continues to Bella. 

“Me? In Yankee Springs? Being one with nature?”

“It’s not a hippie thing, Bella,” Coley states, knowing where she’s going with her comment, her voice trying to keep from showing the laughter that wants to blurt out when Josh evades her hug she attempts to patch things up with. 

“You guys literally play instruments, sing, and get stoned all weekend.”  

“Not everyone is stoned,” Coley replies quietly, raising her brows, “I can’t be with my parents around.” 

“Shhhhhit,” Sherri mumbles, eyeing her knowingly.  

“Either way I’m jealous of your hippie retreat. Anything is better than being trapped here,” The brunette scoffs, glancing around the parking lot of the sports bar they’re both still going strong at. 

“Thank you so much for covering my shifts, Bella, I really do appreciate it and I promise I owe you big time.” 

“Don’t worry about it. Your shenanigans are always a priority.” Bellamy assures her with a chuckle. “Anyway, I gotta go back in. I love you. Tell Josh I’ll call him when I get off.” 

“I will, and I love you, too,” Coley says to her before hanging up. 

She rode with her dad and mom as an attempt to patch things up without actually having to trudge through a conversation with the woman. 

Nothing was resolved, however, the two of them staying silent and leaving her dad and her sisters to fill the empty air between them, pretending not to be uncomfortable.

And when they arrived, Coley nearly face-planted when she scrambled from the car and rushed inside to hide away with Sammy, Danny, and Jules until Jake and Josh were done helping their aunt get her things inside. 

“Hey!” They hear Karen exclaim happily, followed by the pounding of small feet excitedly running through the cabin. 

“Kayce, don’t run,” Trace scolds him while Lori pipes to him:

“Oh, my goodness, she’s so precious,” in regards to Collins who’s asleep in her carrier. 

Sherri gets up from the couch to greet her husband, Kayce immediately seeking out Josh and Sammy in the living room after getting a hug from Tammy. 

“Yeah, I’m glad she’s precious now. That sudden, drug-free birth was not,” Sherri scoffs, earning a laugh from the women as Coley sits back down on the couch. 

“If you would’ve gone ahead and went like I suggested you would’ve had time to get an epidural,” Tammy reminds her, brushing her bangs from her eyes. 

“Mom, if you go too early they send you back home. What was I gonna do? Camp out in the parking lot?” 

“Well, now you know what to do with the next one,” Lori assures her.

“Oh, hell, Ms. Lori, we’re not even thinking about another one right now,” Trace shakes his head while his wife glances at him pointedly, “Put it this way, I’m not thinking of another one. If she wants another one, she’s gonna have to find a baby daddy with some money.” 

“Shut up,” Sherri shoves at his arm with a small laugh while Tammy gently unbuckles her granddaughter and cradles her. 

“Where’s Coley? She can help you get the bags in, Trace,” Tammy volunteers her daughter to Sammy’s amusement, the boy giving her a wide-mouth smile accompanied with a quiet, taunting laugh at the sight of her closing her eyes and huffing out a breath. 

“Sammy can, too, they’re in the living room,” Karen says, next, and Coley raises her brows at the youngest Kiszka and gives him a similar expression and a laugh while he sighs. 

Upon making it to Trace’s truck, the two of them divy out who grabs what, but upon the execution of actually retrieving anything from the bed of the truck, Coley’s attention is pulled from the task at hand by a loud, unfamiliar laugh echoing through the air. 

Her eyes follow the path of the sound and land on her boyfriend, who stands with a pair of smooth, sunkissed soft arms around him. 

“…Um…Sam?” She begins, Sammy not quite realizing what she’s witnessing, too busy trying to get this over with. 

“Huh?” He grabs Kayce’s small suitcase and pulls it out of the bed of the truck. 

“Who is that?” 

He furrows his brows but doesn’t look just yet, not until she’s knocking into his side with her arm. 

“What?” Sammy sighs out, pausing when he sees what she sees. 

Whoever this girl is, she’s very amused with the conversation taking place between Jake and his dad, because she’s cackling whilst holding onto Jake, still, her arms wrapped around his waist, hugging him uncomfortably long. 

His only saving grace is that he actively attempts to gain some distance, but from where Coley stands he seems to be enjoying it a little too much. 

“That’s Amy,” Sammy informs her. 

“Who?” 

“Amy…our mom grew up with her mom,” He explains, further, “They live in Tennessee.”

“Never heard of her,” Coley snaps as Jake says something hilarious that sends Amy into a fit of giggles before playfully pushing at him, “Ok, girly, he’s not that damn funny.” 

“No, he’s not,” Sammy agrees, wrinkling his nose. 

“Hold, please,” Coley pipes to him, next, patting his shoulder before stepping toward Jake, Kelly, and Amy, “Hey, baby, can you come help me and Sammy grab these bags?” 

Jake stops speaking upon hearing her, snapping his head toward her while Amy’s smile falters just slightly at the sight of her—and it doesn’t go the slightest bit unnoticed by his girlfriend.

“Coley, this is Amy—Amy, this is my girlfriend Coley,” Jake introduces them, and the tall brunette looks down at her and offers a tight smile. 

“Hi, Coley, it’s nice to meet you,” Amy says, light brown eyes sparkling in the sunlight shrouding them. 

“Oh, you can just call me, ‘C.J.,” Coley pipes, her boyfriend eyeing her when she says it. 

JAKE: It was her way of making it clear she wanted little to nothing to do with someone—having them call her by a nickname acquaintances in high school had given her—unbeknownst to them. 

She’d do it to interviewers she found annoying, staff she didn’t particularly like, and friends of ours she didn’t trust. 

“…She’s built like an Amazon, Josh,” Coley says later that night as her boyfriend’s twin brother holds a spoon to her mouth for her to taste the soup he’s working on, “Tall, and tan, and a lion’s mane—”

“—Open,” Josh bosses, nudging the spoon against her mouth. She quickly does so just to get him to shut up, and he asks, “Thoughts?”

“I’m gonna need hard drugs to survive this trip without losing my mind over this girl,” She states. 

“The soup, Coley, the soup,” He reminds her, rolling his eyes. 

“It tastes fine, Josh, can we please focus on this for two more seconds?” 

“Just ‘fine’?” 

“Josh.”

He raises his brows, huffing out a breath and shaking his head before replying, “Coley, you’re being a little overzealous here. He’s not even looking at her that way. He’s perfectly content with his short, pasty, mousy-haired Thumbelina—we all are,” he promises, giving a quick peck to her cheek as he pushes past her to grab more spices. 

 “I’m not saying it’s him,” She raises her brows, “She’s been flirting with him all day.” 

“Coley—”

“—Look me in my eyeballs, Joshua Michael, and tell me that she hasn’t,” She states, crossing her arms and looking at him. 

Sighing out, Josh meets her gaze and can’t bring himself to tell her the very thing she’s suspicious of. 

It’s the truth, Amy having been laughing abruptly at things perhaps not all that funny that have come from Jake, her hands always coming up to lightly hit him with each giggle, clinging to every word that comes from him while staring dopily at him as if entranced. 

“Exactly,” Coley says when he stays silent. 

“That doesn’t matter. He’s not entertaining it.”

“Not, yet, at least,” She mumbles while Sammy steps into the kitchen from outside, the sound of music and singing following him in until the door shuts behind him. 

“It’s cold as balls out there,” He says, “Is it almost ready?” 

“Probably faster if Coley would let me keep my mind on what I’m doing,” Josh scoffs. 

“If a model moved in on your partner you’d be pitching a full-blown fit, Josh,” She counters, saying it harshly. 

“Ohh, Amy?” Sam asks. 

“Sam, tell her she’s overreacting, please,” Josh grumbles. 

“Coley, you’re overreacting,” Sammy says with no argument, grabbing a beer from the fridge as the door opens again. 

She feels as if she’s conjured the very woman she despises, Amy coming into the kitchen and opening the fridge. 

“It smells good, Josh,” She clears her throat, grabbing two beers while Sam offers the bottle opener to her. 

“Gracias,” Josh sighs out, proudly. 

“You know, I forgot how good your brother is at playing. He sounds a lot better than when he first taught me to play,” Her statement bristles Coley up, blue eyes drifting to Sammy and Josh while she tries to keep her expression as neutral as possible despite her heart growing tight. 

“Ha, ha, don’t we all,” Sammy inquires in an attempt to ease the tension. 

“He taught you how to play?” Coley innocently asks, pretending to be interested out of genuine curiosity. 

“Yeah, they used to come down and spend a few weeks out of the summer,” Amy tells her, “We were like, fifteen?” 

She glances at Sammy and Josh as if to make sure she’s getting her facts straight. 

“Yeah, we were fifteen because the next summer when we were sixteen we couldn’t do anything but fool aro—” 

Josh coughs loudly as if aiding her in disguising the momentary slip up due to her forgetting she’s speaking to Jake’s girlfriend, and Amy abruptly stops herself from blurting it out, light brown eyes going wide momentarily. 

“Try it now,” Josh pipes, holding the spoon full of soup up to Coley’s mouth while her head races with scenarios of Jake and Amy…

Trying to keep her composure, Coley obliges him.

“It’s good,” She says, truthfully, keeping a fake smile plastered on her face while Amy nervously looks at the door. 

“Well, I’m gonna get this out to him,” She sighs, taking her opportunity to go give Jake his beer and retreat from the kitchen that holds his girlfriend in it. 

Sammy vanished at some point during Amy’s misstep, darting from the potential conflict with an aversion. 

Coley looks at the back of Josh’s head as he stands at the stove, his hand rubbing his forehead as he feels the tension roiling within her. 

She realizes she has heard of this girl—just not by name. 

“Mine was when I was sixteen…it was with a girl I kinda grew up with. We’d hangout a lot when we’d go visit my grandparents in Tennessee in the summertime,” is what he had told her when the topic of first times came up. 

And now the very nameless, faceless woman has a name, and a face, and an intimate history with her boyfriend. 

Dinner is just as uncomfortable as Coley’s brief time in the kitchen with Amy. 

Jake’s sandwiched between the two girls, Amy propping her temple on the back of her hand, her elbow resting on the table as she watches Jake speak—her sparkling eyes taking in every movement of his lips…and if she glances to his left she has the perfect view of his irritated girlfriend staring back at her. 

Coley can’t help the insecurity that soars through her at the sight of anybody so gorgeous making her boyfriend laugh as loudly, smile as widely, or blush as vividly as she does. 

Josh catches the exchange multiple times throughout the meal and tries his hardest to stifle his awkward giggles while Sam attempts to goad Amy into conversation with him from where he’s sitting to her right—Danny able to blissfully ignore all of it because he’s too entranced in Julianne to give a shit about Jake digging himself into a hole with each grin she throws Amy’s way.  

 One by one the large group of family and friends finish eating, discard their plates, and either decide to call it a night or head back outside to the fire with instruments in-tow. 

Jake, Sammy, and Josh are among them—Jake planting a quick kiss to Coley’s cheek and running upstairs for a moment, leaving her and her mother while the two of them tidy up the kitchen after insisting Lori and Karen head out with the others. 

It’s silent between them, aside from disinfectant wipes scrubbing against the counters and the sound of the broom on the floor…

That is until Coley eyes her mother, her heart constricting with guilt before she lets out a deep breath and clears her throat. 

“Are we gonna talk about it, Mom?” 

Tammy doesn’t look at her, pushing the soapy wipe around while her daughter sweeps dirt into the dustpan. 

“We can talk about it when you apologize,” Her mother informs her neutrally, trying not to get emotional at the sound of her daughter finally speaking to her. 

“I don’t think I need to,” Coley admits to her, shaking her head, watching her mother scoff. 

“Well, then, no. I don’t want to talk about it.” 

“Mom—”

“—You don’t realize just how disrespectful you were to me, do you?”

“You don’t realize how disrespectful you were to me,” Coley says, back, “I told you I wasn’t comfortable with you talking to my ex’s mom about me, and all you did was just keep going on about how wonderful Holton was and what me and Jake did was wrong.”

“Because it was—”

“—And I know that, and I do feel guilty for it. I do. But, mom, you and dad went through a similar situation, and I think you need to work through that fully instead of projecting it all onto me and Jake.”

“I think I’m done with this conversation,” Tammy retorts. 

“Mom—”

“—I’m done, Coley June.”

Her eyes shift from her daughter, falling over her shoulder to the brown eyes that have found their way back downstairs to head back outside. 

His girlfriend turns to look at him, and he glances between her and her mom before muttering a, “Sorry for interrupting,” and slipping out of the door. 

Coley’s lips tighten into a thin line, her blue eyes glaring at her mother as if to say, “Look what you’ve done, now.”

Tammy only discards her wipe in the trash and steps past her daughter, heading to the living room to finish reading her book, while Coley makes a beeline for the cabinet they’re keeping their bottles of various liquor in, grabbing her own small bottle of Maker’s and scurrying upstairs.  

After locking herself in her room, having one too many gulps of whiskey, she pulls herself from the fluffy rug positioned beside the bed, and reaches for her guitar before heading to her door to follow the trail of music peacefully drifting down the hallway. 

Coley can hear Julianne in the shower next door in the bathroom as she watches Danny momentarily, seeing the way he concentrates on the notes escaping from his fingers, thick brows at ease…

“…Can you show me?” She asks him, stopping him in his tracks. 

He looks up at her as she steps toward him, her movements dragging in a near-stumble, her mind far from sobriety.  

“Uh—what, again?” 

“The chords that you ran through for that song you and Josh are working on.”  

“I don’t have a lot down, just yet, so…” Danny looks at Coley cautiously while she sits across from him on the bed, her sister’s boyfriend not wanting to step on any toes—Jake’s toes in particular—which he fears will happen if he takes her up on her request. 

“Well, what do you have so far?” Coley inquires, Danny’s  brows furrowing as his brown eyes seem to perk up just a little with her new-found curiosity at what he and Josh have been working on. 

“I don’t…I don’t wanna piss Jake off or something because I think he wanted to show you himself.”

Danny’s not used to her gauging his own skill at guitar—typically going to Jake because it makes the most sense, he supposes. 

But here she is, sitting on the bed in his and Jules’ room, waiting for him with her raised brows and her acoustic in her lap. 

“Jake’s downstairs playing John Denver’s greatest hits with Joan Baez’s ‘mini-me’—he isn’t worried about me and what I’m doing right now.”

“I don’t think that’s the case, Coley,” Danny attempts to reassure her.

“Did you know he fucked her?” 

The warm, encouraging smile on his face slowly disappears. 

“What, you couldn’t tell from how they’ve been acting all night?” She asks, next, and he slowly shakes his head. 

“Jake’s always been a flirt, Coley.”

“I guess it’s just different when he does it with girls he’s been with,” She mumbles, wiping her nose with the back of her hand, sniffling, before adding, “Are you gonna show me how to play this damn thing or not?”  

From the tone of her voice, he takes it that she’s not going to be accepting a “no” in this instance. 

He shows her the same progression of chords he showed Jake, the very ones that Jake offered to show Coley afterwards, but she politely declined at the time. 

She thumbs through it weerily as Danny repeats it until she catches on, her eyes cutting to see what his fingers are doing and mimicking it until it sounds in unison. 

Within a couple more moments, the syncopated sound of their guitars playing the exact thing shifts into Danny keeping with his original work while Coley veers off to try to tap into a rhythmic motif to back it. 

Neither of them notice Jake standing in the doorway, leaning against the wooden frame, watching the two of them, until they get to a stopping point and Danny excitedly pipes, “We gotta get Josh up here,” thinking of this potential song as his baby with their lead singer being that the two of them are the ones who have been slowly but surely trying to make something of it for a year, now.

“They’re down by the lake.” Jake tells him, Coley jolting just a smidge at the abrupt presence of her boyfriend coming from seemingly nowhere.

“Are you going to bed?” Coley asks him, not bothering to get up from where she’s sitting, still irritated with him. 

“Yeah, for a little bit,” He states, rubbing his lips together while she blinks at him, “I was hoping you’d come with me.” 

She doesn’t want to, but she also doesn’t want to get into an argument in front of Danny. 

Relenting, she yawns out a, “Goodnight, Danny,” as she gets off of the bed. 

“Goodnight, Coley. We can work on it some more tomorrow.” 

“Yes, we will,” She promises, slipping past her boyfriend, who lingers a moment longer. 

“Goodnight,” He finally says to Danny before heading to the room he and Coley are sharing. 

Coley’s putting her guitar back in its case as he comes in, shutting the door behind him. 

Jake waits for her to say something, anything, but she doesn’t. 

Not until he swallows his silence. 

“I, uh…I was gonna show you those chords, you know?” He tells her, his eyes following her as she peels her sweatshirt over her head. 

“I know,” Coley replies with a shrug, dark blonde hair falling down her bare back as she tosses the heavy garment to the cream colored quilt on the bed, “Maybe you can show them to Amy,” she adds, petty and smug as it comes from her lips, and he realizes exactly what this is about before she even mentions, “Teaching girls guitar is apparently your thing, after all.”

Jake’s about to inquire about what she’s talking about, but finds himself distracted by the bottle on the floor. 

“You’ve been drinking?” He asks her, reaching down to pick it up and move it to the dresser it doesn’t get stepped on. 

“Hmm?” 

She hears him walk up behind her, his fingers softly grabbing at her arm to spin her around to face him. 

He can’t tell if the tears lining her eyes are from anger or sadness, knowing her it’s a mixture of the two…typically it’s not difficult for him to decipher, but now that he’s the cause of it, it’s not as simple to figure out. 

“Look, Amaryllis is just a frie—”

“—Amaryllis,” Coley cuts him short and repeats her full name, not even realizing there even was a full name to place on the tall, bronzed goddess. 

An annoyingly beautiful name for an annoyingly beautiful woman that even captures Josh’s eye when she walks into a room. 

“Don’t make something out of nothing, Coley,” Jake pleads, “It honestly is nothing.”

She stares up at him, searching his eyes with her own, knowing he’s telling the truth but still unable to help the bitterness that seeps from her. It mingles with pre-existing doubt that she’s been staving off for months now, but is beginning to lose her grip on it. 

“She’s a friend in the way Hope was, right?” Coley asks, sniffling, and he lets out a defeated sigh and rubs his hands down his face before sitting on the bed. 

“It was only a couple weeks, Coley,” He finally assures her, “Maybe it meant something at the time, but it doesn’t mean anything, now.” 

“Obviously it does to her because she’s still chasing after you like you hung the stars.” 

“Baby, we all lost touch with her but our parents are still friends with her parents. Mom mentioned it to us to invite her this year because she’s been having a hard time, and so I did. Why the hell would I bring someone I’m cheating on you with up here with us?”

“Why the hell would you bring someone you’ve slept with up here with us,” She fires back, without even a blink of her eyes, before she’s grabbing her t-shirt to sleep in from her bag. 

His brows drop and his eyes cut at her back when she turns to pull the shirt over her head. 

“When have I ever given you a reason to think I’d run around on you?” Jake demands sharply, standing up once again. 

“Because you ran around with me,” She throws at him. 

It’s a punch to the gut that further hurls  him into confusion. 

“Where the fuck is this coming from?”

She doesn’t answer him, clambering through her bag for her phone charger 

“I know you and your mom have been back and forth about us lately, but—”

“—This doesn’t have anything to do with that, Jake.”

“Then where the hell is this coming from?” 

Where is this coming from? 

Coley wants to laugh from how ridiculously hilarious the question is—as if he’s blind to his own stupidity. 

“You invited a girl you’ve fucked here, and didn’t tell me! That’s where the hell this is coming from!”

“My mom wanted us to!” He exclaims, throwing his hands up. 

“Oh, well in that case, let me go call Holton and see if he’s able to make it up here! My mom’s been on me about reaching out, anyway!” Coley quips, watching his face fall and his jaw tighten. 

“That’s not even remotely the same fucking situation, Coley, and you know it. Me and Amy weren’t a serious thing. We never had a relationship.” 

“Nope. Only sex,” She scoffs out, her eyes teary and her voice cracking, “Which is why she’s so comfortable looking at you the way she is, talking to you the way she is—”

“—Coley—”

“—And you just fucking let her because it’s attention from a pretty girl.” 

“Is that what you think of me?” Jake snaps, his brows scrunching, and she blinks at him. 

“Why else would you wanna start a band?” Coley throws at him with the intention to hurt him, 

“Why would you even wanna be in a band with me, then, if you think it’s all some ploy to get my dick wet?” 

“Because I’m just that fucking stupid, I guess,” She says, wearily, her throat growing tight and her nose stinging with tears. 

“You’re not stupid, Coley, but you’re acting stupid right now,” Jake says, “I think you’re drunk, and tired, and overwhelmed, and stressed out, and you just need to go the fuck to bed.” 

Perhaps he’s right—she’s overtired and sleep deprived, weighed down with their future in music still hanging in the balances—and it’s only causing her to overthink, and over analyze…and the Maker’s Mark isn’t helping.  

Or,  perhaps, her mother has been right. 

Maybe this is a dead end—a dumb decision she’s making because she thinks she’s in love with him…

A life-altering, potentially life-ruining, decision. 

“No, I think I just need to get the fuck out,” Coley hisses out, as if the very foundation they built their relationship on has finally corroded. 

Jake feels as if he’s whiplashed, the turn of events from just one day of their trip so sudden and harsh…but what if it’s not sudden? 

What if she’s felt this way for a while, and is just taking the opportunity to go—using Amy as a scapegoat to do so?

Tears of pure frustration come to his eyes, his teeth digging into his tongue as he tries to think coherently enough to speak once again…

“You need to get out of our relationship, or get out of the band?” He snaps. 

“I’m just done,” She blurts without truly meaning it, only wanting him to apologize instead of making her feel crazy for being upset with him.  

 He won’t give her the satisfaction of an apology, however, instead reaching for her wrist as she walks by only for her to snatch away from him, “You’re doing this now? We’re in talks for a record deal, Coley—”

“I said, ‘I’m done’,” She repeats herself sternly, abruptly cutting him off, pushing past him to the get to the door. 

“You sound like your goddamn mom,” It’s his turn now to hurt her, turning to see her stop in her tracks. 

“What did you just say?” 

“Exactly like her. Shutting me down when I’m trying to speak to you—”

“— I was in a good relationship, I was happy, and then you were constantly on me about loving me, and how much you cared—I cheated on my boyfriend for you, I’ve put my life on hold for you—”

“—I didn’t force you into any of this, you know? You wanna scream at Tammy about projecting guilt onto you, then turn around and do the same shit to me, then fine. But you kissed me first, Coley. You made that first step. It’s not my fault you’re feeling some deep-rooted guilt over it, now.”

“You were his friend, Jake, we were all friends, and we—”

“—Coley, where is this coming from,” He asks as calmly as he can muster, concern etched on his face, while he’s nearly at a loss for words, “It’s been two years since all that happened, baby, what is going on?” 

“Don’t ‘baby’ me, Jake, not right now.” 

“Would ‘C.J.’ be better?”

It feels foreign coming from him, because he’s never called her that—he’s never had to, Coley having enjoyed the sound of her full name leaving his lips from the moment they became friends. 

She blinks at him before wiping her eyes with her palms, her head beginning to throb slightly from their back and forth as he attempts to put what she feels into words. 

“I think I need to go and just…think,” She informs him, sniffling. 

“If you have to think about whether you wanna be with me, or be in the band, then there’s really no need to. Storm out, call Bella to come get you…maybe you can work things out with Holton and hold his hand through fucking Podiatry school, push out a couple kids, make your mom happy, and stay trapped in Frankenmuth while we get free,” His voice nearly cracks, his vision blurring briefly as he adds, “Don’t do me any fucking favors sticking around if you regret being with me so much! We were a band before you came along, we’ll be a band after you leave.”

SAMMY: We didn't even realize she had quit until the next morning when Bellamy came and got her.

JOSH: I wasn’t surprised when Jake told us she quit. She and I shared this same apprehension with the idea of signing our names on a line and promising X amount of years to create music when it wasn’t really at the forefront of the blueprint for our lives. We enjoyed it, of course, but us joining the band was first and foremost for Jake…when Coley stepped back from it those years ago, it appeared very spontaneous at the time, but the signs were there years before she ever left. She came into this with cold feet…at times I think she came into her relationship with Jake that way, too.