#WHAT THE FUCK IS UP GUESS WHO JUST SLEPT THIRTEEN HOURS

[whatareyoudoingwithamaserati]

Recovery coma save me……. save me recovery coma

[hannyoontify]

the best birthday gift - jeon wonwoo

member | best friend!wonwoo x reader ft. the rest of svt

genre | fluff, attempted humor, high school!au (but they’re not at school)

word count | 2.8k

synopsis | it turns out, wonwoo works best under pressure

warnings | cursing, reader wears a tank top, reader is short and gets made fun of for it (lightheartedly), sex jokes, friendly bantering

notes | set in southern california, LA/Hollywood, based on real life events from yours truly and kids don’t jaywalk not proofread

happy (late) wonwoo day!! to the sweetest boy ever, i hope you had a wonderful birthday <33

Whoever thought taking public transportation with fourteen people to downtown LA was a good idea deserved to “be buried alive 6 feet under with those bug-eyed Chihuahuas”, according to Seungkwan. 

In his defense, Seungcheol thought it would be better for the environment. It totally wasn’t because of the fact that he was the only one with a driving license and it absolutely wasn’t because he wasn’t confident enough in his driving skills to be responsible for the lives of thirteen other people. Where would he get a 14-seat car anyway? 

All fourteen of you trudged along the cracked sidewalks of downtown LA, broken up into smaller groups as Seungcheol led the way in the front with Jeonghan and Jihoon. You stayed in the back, with Mingyu and Wonwoo, who were intensely debating whether or not a person can suck their own dick. You occasionally pitched in with your two cents, but you mostly stayed quietly in the middle, enjoying the spectacle that was laid out in front of you.

You were so engrossed in Mingyu and Wonwoo’s conversation that you almost ran straight into a streetlight. You yelled in surprise and Wonwoo barked out a sharp laugh, almost in tears as you rubbed your nose with a pout. Mingyu cracked a smile as you threatened to demonstrate firsthand to your best friend what you learned from your second grade taekwondo class. 

“You don’t wanna mess with me, Jeon Wonwoo. I was a yellow belt in second grade.”

“Yeah, and I’m, like, a whole head taller than you. What about it?” Mingyu’s ears perked up at hearing those fighting words and reached for his leftover popcorn from earlier. It was safe to assume that Wonwoo chose death today.

“You know, with your height and broad shoulders, you would think there’s at least one bone with common sense in you but I guess not,” you countered.

“You do know that tall people have the same amount of bones as short people like you, right?” Wonwoo sneered. 

You did a double take. “Wait, really?”

“Oh my god, [Name], what’d you learn in human anatomy?” Joshua asked. He was standing next to Mingyu, his hand reaching into Mingyu’s bucket of soggy popcorn. “I thought you passed that class with an A.”

“Yeah, with my help,” Wonwoo muttered under his breath. “They slept in class everyday and I ended up having to tutor them for 16 hours the day before our final.”

You swung your arm around his shoulder and grinned. “I still owe you for that one, how can I ever repay you for your kindness?” You asked dramatically.

Wonwoo reached over and pinched the side of your ribs. “How about growing another couple inches?”

“Fuck off,” You pushed him away from you and stuck out your tongue. In retaliation, Wonwoo flipped you off. 

Mingyu and Joshua watched the two of you bickering in amusement. The older boy leaned over and whispered into Mingyu’s ear, “I give them two weeks before they either start dating or fucking, I don’t know which one yet.”

Mingyu snorted. “I give them three days.”

“It’s a deal then,” Joshua reached out and shook Mingyu’s hand with his non-buttery hand. Unfortunately for him, he had reached over and gripped the latter’s oily, buttery hand. “EW WHAT THE FUCK MINGYU.” 

“Why did we stop?” You heard Seungkwan ask. He was currently holding onto Soonyoung’s backpack strap like it was a leash, stopping him from running off into the wild streets of downtown LA. Next to him was Seokmin, who just looked happy to be wearing his newly acquired Minions bucket hat. 

After walking for what seemed like forever, Seungcheol had finally signaled the entire group to stop walking by an intersection. Mingyu glanced towards the front, where Seungcheol, Jeonghan, and Jihoon seemed to be in a heated discussion about something. Although you couldn’t hear what they were saying, you could tell they were getting stressed by Jihoon’s eyebrows that furrowed into each other with every passing second, Jeonghan’s more exasperated hand movements, and Seungcheol’s lips that began jutting into a pout as he got more and more worked up. 

You let out a tired sigh. Your feet were aching and sore, your shoulders were sunburnt and itchy, and you probably smelled like a mix of sweat and weed right now. It wasn’t you that was smoking weed, but the esteemed gentleman sitting next to you on the metro-rail earlier was and you’re pretty sure the smell was permanently woven into the fabric of your tank top. You shifted back and forth between your feet, trying to alleviate any weight and pressure off your feet for at least a second and Wonwoo seemed to notice this because he silently guided you to a nearby bench,

You spared him a quick glance. “Thanks, Woo. You should also sit.” 

“Short people tend to have a shorter life span. Compared to you, I have plenty of more time to sit down,” Wonwoo shook his head with faux sympathy, almost enough to convince you that he was being serious but you knew him better than that.

Despite being absolutely exhausted, you assumed you had enough strength left in you to give Wonwoo’s shin a good, hard kick. 

“Ow, what the fuck was that for?” Wonwoo complained and you just grinned.

“I hope you shrink.”

Wonwoo stuck his tongue out at you childishly and you just rolled your eyes with a giggle, momentarily forgetting about the hot, blaring sun and the impending sunburn on your shoulders. He glanced down at you with the ghost of a smile tugging on the corners of his lips and you felt your stomach erupt into butterflies. Your not-so-little crush on Wonwoo was old news, but no matter how much time you spent with him, his smile always managed to turn you into a messy pile of goo and butterflies. 

Waiting for further instructions, Wonwoo leaned on you, his arms resting on top of your head as he scrolled through his phone. You stared down at the ground, trying to ignore the warmth of Wonwoo’s body next to yours. If it was anyone else, you would’ve pushed them off already, complaining about how hot it was, but this was Wonwoo. 

You tried to use the breathing techniques Minghao taught you a while ago, but it didn’t help calm your fastly beating heart. You wiped your sweaty palms on the fabric of your pants and licked your chapped lips. You almost forgot how much you hated summer in southern California.

In an attempt to distract yourself, you thought back to the long day and how chaotic everything was from the start. All fourteen of you agreed to go to Universal Studios Hollywood for Wonwoo’s 17th birthday, and the morning was alright. You all made it to the theme park safely via public transportation and after a long, fun day, the group decided to head back home to catch the last train.

You guys missed the last train.

In Jun’s defense, he didn’t mean to get lost. He was busy trying to apply another layer of sunscreen and when he looked up, everyone else was gone. He wandered around the city for a while before he caught sight of Soonyoung’s bright tiger backpack (no one knows why none of them used their phones to contact each other). By the time all fourteen of you were reunited, the last train had already left, leaving you guys to take the cheaper, but much more sketchy metro-rail. 

After missing the original stop on the metro-rail, you guys had to ride back for another 20 minutes, then navigate the streets of downtown LA in the late afternoon heat to find a specific bus stop, leading to your current situation.

“Okay, everyone! Our bus is supposed to be here any second,” Seungcheol called out. Immediately, everyone’s focus seemed to snap to the three boys who were standing side by side, arms crossed and firm looks on their faces. “The bus station is diagonally across the intersection so we need to-”

Jeonghan, looking somewhere else, began to urgently tap on Seungcheol’s shoulder. “Cheol, that’s 460. That’s our bus.”

Seungcheol felt his blood run cold. Across the street, he saw a bright orange bus making its way down the street, pulling up to the bus station diagonally across from where he and the rest of his friends were currently standing. 

Everyone seemed to be under a trance as they stared at the run-down bus pull up to the station. Soonyoung was the first one to shake off the trance, breaking free from his beloved tiger backpack and leaving it in Seungkwan’s limp grip. He bolted across the street, ignoring all the different car honks and curses that were thrown at him. He had somehow made it not only across the street, but diagonally across the intersection, ending up on the same sidewalk as the bus station.

Soonyoung looked behind, expecting everyone else to be following him, only to see the rest of his friends staring at him dumbfoundedly.

“KWON SOONYOUNG WHAT THE FUCK?!” Seungcheol yelled. 

“I’M SORRY HYUNG I DON’T KNOW-”

Seungcheol waved at him urgently, doing everything in his power to resist the urge to run through the LA traffic to simply throttle the younger boy. “NO, DON’T FUCKING APOLOGIZE JUST STOP THE BUS.”

Soonyoung stared at Seungcheol with a confused look on his face. “WHAT?”

Finally breaking out of your own trance, you stood up and began pointing to the bus. “STOP THE FUCKING BUS. TELL THEM TO WAIT.”

Chan noticed that the crosswalk light turned green and began running. “COME ON WE NEED TO MOVE.”

My dear reader, have you ever seen a stampede of any kind? Whether it be the stampede of wildebeests that trampled Mufasa to death in the Lion King, the rush of high school students to the canteen during lunch, or thirteen teenagers running down the crooked streets of LA, I’m sure you can imagine the picture. Sweaty and red faces, backpack straps flying off shoulders, breathless laughs, unintelligible yells, and hands tightly gripping and tugging at each other.

More specifically, Wonwoo’s hand gripping yours. 

In the spur of the moment, the only thought in Wonwoo’s head was making sure you were safe. So when the rest of your friends broke into a sprint, his first instinct was to grab your hand and pull you along. 

Here you are now, your hand still in Wonwoo’s as you guys caught your breath while waiting for the second light to change. Soonyoung stood on the other side of the crosswalk as the living epitome of the standing emoji, waiting for someone to say something.

Seungkwan angrily shook his fist that still held his friend’s (tacky) tiger backpack. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING? GO STOP THE BUS!”

Soonyoung helplessly pointed towards the bus that had already left the station and was now waiting at a red light. “IT LEFT! IT’S TOO LATE!”

“GO! GO ASK THEM TO STOP. STALL THE DRIVER, JUST DO ANYTHING,” You screamed desperately. All around you, your friends were also yelling at Soonyoung, telling him to stop the bus and ask the driver to wait. 

Soonyoung finally gave in and ran back towards the bus that was still waiting at the red light. With every passing second, everyone inched closer to the edge of the curb, impatiently waiting for the light to change. And after what seemed like forever (it had been three minutes), the light finally changed and you made a run for it. Pushing past Jihoon and Vernon, you sprinted down the sidewalk with incoherent yells. You passed by other pedestrians who all looked at you and your friends questionably, and for good reason too. It wasn’t everyday you saw a group of teenagers running in downtown LA in the middle of July. 

There was maybe another hundred feet left in front of you and you’ve never felt more exhilarated before in your life. Adrenaline coursed through your veins as your feet made heavy contact with the gum clad concrete. You felt like you were in a teen movie. You could almost imagine the BGM as you and your friends dramatically run together in slow motion, your hair flowing in the air and you find yourself smiling. Wonwoo caught up to you, running by your side as the two of you silently sprinted down the street with bated breaths. 

Wonwoo glanced over at you and felt a warm feeling spreading throughout his chest. This feeling wasn’t unfamiliar to him, but it amazed him how easily he was swept away by your charm every time he was in your presence. Your laugh always pulled at his heartstrings and your smile seemed to brighten up every room you entered. Wonwoo was drawn to you like a magnet and there was nothing he could do about it.

As the two of you got closer to the bus, Wonwoo suddenly had a thought. He reached for your hand and pulled you closer to him. 

“[Name],” Wonwoo started breathlessly. The bus was now less than fifty feet away and Soonyoung had successfully managed to convince the bus driver to wait for you and your friends. It was now or never. “You said you would get me anything for my birthday, right?”

You let out a strangled grunt, trying your hardest to not sound like you were fighting for your life after running for only five minutes because that was just simply embarrassing. Up ahead, Soonyoung had already made his way into the bus and found himself a comfortable seat in the back with a content smile. You slowed down as you approached the bus and breathlessly set down a foot on the front step of the vehicle.

Behind you, Wonwoo gently rested his hands on your hips and whispered into your ear, “How about a date?”

You felt your heart drop past your ass, your feet, and into the deepest, darkest pits of hell. Skinship was normal between your friend group, but this was different. And also, what the fuck did he just say? Were you slowly losing your hearing? Your mom was right, spending too much with Seokmin and Soonyoung did damage your ears-

Wonwoo let out a soft laugh behind you and almost as if he read your mind, “No, you’re not hearing things [Name]. This is me asking you out.”

You desperately needed someone to pinch you. 

Climbing onto the bus with a perplexed look on your face, you mumbled a quick ‘thank you’ to the bus driver who seemed a little less than happy to have a bunch of hooligans on his bus. Wonwoo’s big hands never left your waist as he guided you to an empty seat towards the back of the bus. You simply followed his lead as you tried to comprehend what your best friend just said. This was all probably a prank, right? You sank down in your chair and looked at Wonwoo, who was trying to get himself situated next to you. Was he being serious?

“Yes, you idiot. I’m being serious. I’m so surprised you haven’t caught onto my crush on you yet, with how obvious I was being,” Wonwoo had whispered the last part under his breath but you still heard it. His hand reached for yours that was resting on your lap. “I understand if you don’t feel the same way but-”

“I do,” you said abruptly, interrupting him. After realizing what you just said, you wanted to slap a hand over your mouth, dig a hole underground, crawl into it, and never come out of it ever again. “I mean- I- What I mean is…”

Wonwoo looked at you expectantly, his brown eyes gleaming with hope. He nodded at you to continue and you felt like your tongue had suddenly turned into cotton. Everything in your mouth was dry and heavy and you had to lick your lips before continuing.

“I do… feel the same way about you. I’ve liked you ever since that water balloon fight we had in eighth grade on your birthday. And-” You choked on your words again. “-I would love to go on a date with you.”

Wonwoo felt like he had just won the lottery. He simply couldn’t help the smile that tuuged up on his lips as he gave your hand a firm squeeze. “Okay.”

You returned his smile and hand squeeze. “Okay.”

Exhausted from the long day, Wonwoo rested his head on your shoulder as he drew small patterns on your knee. “I think this might be the best birthday yet,”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, since you agreed to date me.”

“You’re so corn-”

“HA! YOU OWE ME TEN BUCKS SHUA HYUNG.”

reblogs and feedback always appreciated ^-^

[thecameronchronicles]

The First of November

TW: Smut. Language. Dom!Drew!

SUMMARY: Your decision to put a specific photo on Instagram since Drew’s been gone, has consequences…

Word Count: 1000

Requested:

ANONYMOUS REQUESTED:

Ahhhhh since ur requests of drew have been closed hehe possibly he’s been away in October and she went out for Halloween but he got back on the 1st of November and she posts her outfit on her insta and he gets jealous then when he gets home he lets her know that they can look but not touch 🙀 

The First of November 

Although you hated the fact you had to spend Halloween away from him because you knew he would have made it even better, you were already far too excited to allow your costume to go to waste. You had captured the detail of the skintight black silk against your skin in such a way that your boyfriend knew well. The compliment of fishnets as those signature pointed ears topping off your costume were broadcast on an Instagram post that had his eyes glued to his phone from the night before. 

"I thought you were going as a bunny-" He spoke at your back as his red eye flight had him arrive back home as you slept, the images haunting his mind with bridled lust to keep from acting on your time apart. 

"I did. A playboy bunny." You smirked as he stood in awe at your reflection for a moment as you wore only his tee, as you often did when he was away, and a toothbrush halfway out of your mouth. 

"And you danced?" 

"Yes, Drew...it was a party, so I danced..." You teased before watching him move slowly towards you. 

"And since I wasn't there you had every reason to wear panties..." You nodded. 

"So why weren't you?" Your eyes widened as he pulled the picture back to view. 

"Don't even try to lie to me. I've ripped ever pair off of you so don't even try to convince me that I don't know." You swallowed hard as he bow towered over you. 

"You want someone else to touch you? Hmm? Touch what's mine?" 

"No, I..." His hand was at the back of your neck. 

"Think you're so cute with that smart little mouth and that short little costume...Posting pictures for everyone to see what belongs to me..." He cocked his jaw. 

"Drew-" 

"Let me guess.. you're sorry, right?" You nodded. 

"Then you know how to make it up to me." You nodded as he would release you, "You have one minute and you better be back out here in that costume.. cause I'm gonna make you come in it, baby..." You bit your lip in excitement as you did exactly as you were told. Once you came back, you found him looking at the photos once more. 

"Do you have any idea what these did to me before take off? Thirteen hours of those images and what I would have done if we were alone?!" You nodded. 

"So you WANTED me to get a boner two miles high? Hmm?" 

"No...I wanted you to realize what you were missing..." 

"Oh really?" He pulled you between his legs, his fingers immediately between the tight velvet. 

"Like I could forget..." He scoffed. 

"Dance for me. Just like you would have for them." 

"Who?" 

"All the guys who you gave masturbation fuel to last night wearing this. Every one of them picturing you in the ways only I get to have you. So shake that ass for me baby, it was a long flight and I fucking earned it for not waking you up and making you pay for it then." 

You obeyed, no need for music or another command before you seduced him with your bedroom eyes and swaying hips. 

"This is how it should be...everyone seeing how beautiful you are...how sexy...but only I get to touch you." You nodded as you moved back between his legs. 

"So why the fuck were someone else’s hands on you?" He asked with the picture of Madelyn's account having posted a photo of friends you made that night. An innocent pose that he took to mean disloyalty. 

"Drew-" 

"Nuh uh. You don't get to say my name like that unless I'm about to come behind those lips. So tell me...why? My hands not enough? My touch?" Before you could ask, he tore the seam between your legs until his fingers were pistoned violently into you. 

"Drew! Oh fuck!" 

"You wanted to say their names, didn't you baby?" 

"No!" 

"Nobody else made you wet last night? Not when they had their hands all over you?" 

"I shouldn't let you come. If I didn't miss you so much, you wouldn't be. But you're gonna come right now or you don't get to." You nodded and groaned as he curved his fingers to THAT spot. 

"Drew!" 

"Come on baby...I'm getting impatient...". You whined. 

"Fuuuck! Drew I'm coming!" You were spent over his fingers as he was quick to use that around his shaft before sunking you onto him. 

"Nobody else gets to touch you. No dancing. NO touching!" You nodded. 

"Good girl. So take this cock and show me just how sorry you are..." 

"I'm SO sorry-" You were silenced by his fingers in your mouth. 

"Taste it. Taste how fucking sweet you are. Why I forgive you so easily...and clench around me...make me come like you always do...come on baby...make me come for you..." 

"Drew, please come...I’m so sorry-" 

"No you're not." 

"Yes, I am! I'm so sorry!" 

"You just wanna come again..." 

"Yes! But I am sorry-" 

"Yeah? Then make me come before you-" You pressed your hands and his chest until he lay flat your body allowed this dominance as you watched him marvel at you. Hands wrapped around each breast, you rode him to his high as he forced you onto your back, hiking your legs over his shoulders. 

"Didn't get a chance to tell you that I  missed you, bunny." He winked in reference to your costume as your eyes rolled in approval to his tongue making contact to your sex. 

So much for a punishment…

Taglist: @hopebaker @iovdrew @penny4yourthoughts @magnificantmermaid @pickingviolets @lovedetlost @trikigirl271 @maybankslover @slut4starkey @slvtherinseeker @obxiskewl @obxxrxfes @bluesongbird @slut-era @ailee-celeste @rafesbae

[babymetaldoll]

DIWK - Chapter nine: “Fuck it, I love you”

Word count: 8,2K

Summary:  (Y/N) is struggling with her feelings for Spencer, and being just her friend might be harder than she thought. Spencer feels everybody but (Y/N) knows he is in love with her, and for a second, he is sure he will lose her.

Warnings: Cursing, angst frustration, mention of S03E09 (Penelope), usual Criminal Minds content.

A/N:  Hello my dearest friends! hope you are having a great week, and I hope you enjoy this chapter. All feedback is welcome!

Masterlist

Chapter one | Chapter two | Chapter three | Chapter four | Chapter five | Chapter six | Chapter seven | Chapter eight | Chapter nine | Chapter ten | Chapter eleven | Chapter twelve | Chapter thirteen | Chapter fourteen | Chapter fifteen |

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(Y/N)'s point of view

Since Rossi joined the team, we were as busy as we had been in a long time. We didn't have much free time, and most of the cases took us out of Virginia. But, it was our job, and we all liked it, which is why none of us complained much. No one but JJ, who still tried to keep her relationship with Will a secret.

On the bright side, all that traveling and working with the team got us even closer. Having Rossi there gave us a boost to be better at what we did and be even better friends. We had to spend a lot of time together, and by the look in David's eyes, you could tell he was surprised by how good we all got along. At least most of the time.

We were in Florida trying to find an unsub who kidnapped and mutilated women when it happened. After knowing them for over two years, Garcia and Morgan had a fight. A real fight.

- "Hey, how is it going with Father Marks? Any of the volunteers jumped out at him?"- I asked Morgan when I found him at the station after a long day trying to find a lead that might take us to the unsub or the victims.

- "Not yet"- my cellphone rang that second, and Garcia's voice at the other side of the line gave me more info on the case.

- "I'm still running the particulars of our homicides though vicap. Nothing so far."- she announced.

- "Ok. I just sent you the volunteer search list"- I walked from Morgan and sipped my coffee, feeling there was something off.

- "Ok. And I'm cross-checking the names against mental institution records."

- "Pay attention to individuals who were involuntarily committed in Florida. Rossi is convinced our unsub is the type that likes to stick close to home."

- "Got it. Talk to you later."

- "Wait, PG. You usually call Morgan about these kinds of things. Is everything ok?"- I whispered though I knew Morgan was paying a lot of attention to what I was talking about on the phone with Garcia.

- "God, I hate profilers"- she groaned at the other side of the line.

- "Come on, tell me."

- "Fine. I met this guy in the coffee shop I go to every day. His computer crashed, and I helped him fix it. He flirted, I flirted, and he asked for my number, and somehow I gave it to him 'cos he was incredibly hot and nice, and did I mention he was smoking hot? I didn't think he was going to call, but he did, which was surprising 'cos these things do not happen to me, sweet cheeks, never! But it did! And when I told Derek, he just told me I have to blow him off 'cos it's too weird."

- "What!?"- Penelope spoke so fast she didn't even breathe.

- "Yes! Just because he wouldn't hit on me doesn't mean another hot guy wouldn't! And he made me feel like I don't deserve anyone's attention."

- "I'm gonna kill him,"- I whispered and turned around. Derek wide opened his eyes and shrugged, not getting what was going on.

- "Don't. I'll take care of him when you guys come home."

- "Well, take care in the mid-time, and I'm here if you need to talk."

I hung down and sighed. Morgan looked at me, knowing I knew what happened between the two of them.

- "So?"

- "You fucked it up,"- I whispered and smacked his shoulder.

- "Is she furious?"

- "She's hurt. That's actually worse."- Derek sighed and shook his head.

- "What do I do?"

- "You mean, other than to apologize?"- I walked with him to get Hotch and tell him what Garcia had just informed us- "Think big, 'cos you really fucked it up."

- "What does Reid do when he fucks things up with you?"- Morgan asked, and I could sense the innuendo hidden in his words.

- "He doesn't do a thing, 'cos he never fucks up"- I answered with a pleased smile and turned to Hotch. It was time to catch a killer, not time to argue with Derek.

I always thought Morgan and Garcia were the greatest friends I had ever met. I could envy their relationship, especially 'cos they could be so flirtatious and so adorable, and at the same time, you knew their friendship was sacred.

I envied that. I don't think Penelope felt for Derek the way I felt about Spencer. That's why I was sure I had fucked it up. I didn't have to catch those kinds of feelings for my best friend, and I felt I had to find a way to get rid of them. I had to stop having a crush on Reid.

Those weeks had been challenging and yet amazing. It was awful knowing I had a crush on my best friend, but I was really enjoying all the time we were spending together. We had been sharing rooms for the last two cases, and that meant endless sleepovers with Spencer. After a long day, we would meet in our room and just share candies, ice cream, pizza, movies, whatever we needed to decompress.

If things had been too hard, I would lay with him on his bed and just cuddle for a while before going back to my bed. More than once, I fell asleep with him, feeling his fingers playing with my hair as he read. I always apologized the following day, but Spencer kept saying he didn't bother, that he had slept well and that I could always count on him whenever I felt bad.

Knowing I had never done that with Mikey or Frank more than a handful of times in all the years we had met each other made me feel like the shit. Sure, I could sleep in the same bed with them, but not the way I did with Spencer. This felt intimate. Serious. Real. Waking up in Spencer's arms was the best way to start my day, and each time it happened, it made me feel worst and worst 'cos I didn't want to ruin the best friendship I ever had over a silly, stupid, meaningless crush.

Each time it happened, I promised myself it would be the last one. And each time I did, I ended up falling into his arms again. It never meant anything sexual. It was just sharing a bed, cuddling. Holding each other. It was all the intimacy I always refused to share with other people. And I guess that's what freaked me out the most: how vulnerable I was with Reid and how much I enjoyed it for the very first time. Ever.

- "Hey,"- I heard Spencer whisper when we landed. I was curled up on his chest on the couch on the plane, as usual after a long case. I scratched my eyes, probably messing with my makeup, and smiled at him.

- "Sorry... you must have been awfully uncomfortable."

- "Not really. Besides, you looked like you needed a good nap,"- I chuckled and shook my head, sitting down correctly.

- "Next time I drool on your jacket, please wake me up,"- I collected all my things and took a look around- "What time is it?"

- "Almost midnight,"- he announced and stared at me as he held his go bag and put on his jacket- "Do you want to grab something to eat before you go home?"- and I nodded, thinking that was exactly what I had in mind.

But life had other plans, and this time it had nothing to do with us. We were about to get out of my car to catch a late dinner when I got a call from Hotch telling me Penelope was in the local hospital. Spencer's cell phone rang at the same time, and JJ announced the same. We looked at each other for a moment, scared of the worst, and all we managed to do was to get buckled up and drive to the hospital. We both needed to know Penelope would be ok, but all we knew was that she had been shot, and the doctors were doing all they could to save her life.

As soon as we reached the waiting area, we met Aaron and JJ. They looked as worried as we were.

- "She's in surgery,"- JJ announced, and I hugged her immediately- "There's no word."

- "This is crazy,"- Spencer whispered as I felt JJ's arms tighten around me.

- "I can't believe it! I talked to her before we took off."- I murmured and closed my eyes.

- "What do we know?"- Rossi asked, walking over in a hurry with Prentiss.

- "Police think it's a botched robbery,"- Aaron explained.

- "Where's Morgan?"- Emily asked, looking around the hall.

- "He's not answering his cell,"- JJ replied, and Spencer took his phone right away.

- "I'll call him again."

I looked at him as he walked away and turned to my friends. Emily and JJ were doing their best to stay strong, but it was clear they were fighting the tears back, just as badly as I was doing.

Spencer walked back and shook his head. He couldn't reach Morgan. I walked to him and rested my head on his chest, and he wrapped his arms around me, holding me close to him. It was unreal. I felt I was in a nightmare, and I couldn't wake up, no matter how much I tried.

- "They can't give me an update,"- JJ walked over to us after half an hour. She had been trying to get more info about Penelope's condition, but nothing.

- "Morgan's phone just keeps going straight to voicemail,"- Spencer added, and Prentiss's angry voice nearly made me jump.

- "Where the hell is he?!"

Nearly two hours later, Spencer finally contacted Derek, and in less than half an hour, he rushed into the hospital and found us still waiting for news about Penelope. He ran over, shocked and confused, and looked at us, waiting for an explanation.

- "She's been in surgery a couple of hours."- JJ whispered as soon as he stood by our side.

- "I was at church. My phone was off,"- he explained and mostly tried to excuse himself for not being there earlier.

- "There is nothing you could have been doing here,"- Reid whispered, trying to make him feel better. Spoiler: it didn't work. Morgan was getting more and more hyperventilated with every second he spent in that hospital.

- "The police got any leads?"

- "I spoke to the lead detective. He doesn't think we'll get anything from the scene."

Hotch spoke in the calmest voice he had. Morgan was about to say something but bit his tongue. Instead of yelling, he walked around the hall for a few minutes until a doctor approached us.

- "Penelope Garcia?"- and we all nearly yelled "Yes" as a desperate reply.

- "The bullet went into her chest and ricocheted into her abdomen. She lost a lot of blood. It was touch-and-go for a while, but we were able to repair the injuries."

- "So what are you saying?"- JJ questioned as we all held our breath.

- "One centimeter over, and it would have torn right through her heart. Instead, she could actually walk out of here in a couple of days. And I'd say that's a minor miracle."

The way we all sighed, relieved at those words, was priceless and unbeatable. The doctor smiled at us and added.

- "She needs her rest. You can see her in the morning."

- "Thank you,"- I smiled at him, and he was gone. I turned around and looked at Reid. He cut me a short smile as Hotch's voice caught our attention.

- "David and I will go to the scene. I think the rest of you should be here when she wakes up. I don't care about protocol. I don't care whether we're working this officially or not. We don't touch any new cases until we find out who did this."

We all nodded right away. No one had other plans. And after those words, Hotch and Rossi were out of the hospital, and we were left waiting for Penelope to come back from surgery.

- "How are you?"- Reid whispered and handed me a new cup of coffee.

- "Scared. You?"

- "Me too"

- "Who could ever want to hurt Penny? She is adorable,"- I murmured and shook my head.

- "We are gonna find whoever did this"- Spencer held my hand and cut me the warmest smile. I nodded and looked at Derek, who stood up from his chair for the hundredth time and walked to Penelope's room to see if she was ok.

- "In case we ever fight, I want you to know I will always forgive you,"- I murmured in Spencer's ear and rested my head on his shoulder.

- "Should I be worried?"- he asked me, and I just shook my head.

- "I just wanted you to know that you will always be my best friend, Spencer Walter Reid. No matter what happens between us."

And I meant every word back then. I had no idea what was coming ahead and how much things would change within a few months.

Spencer's point of view

The attack against Penelope hit us all hard. She had been shot by the same man who had invited her out for dinner. The one she and Derek had had a fight about.

Of course, Morgan was the one who was more affected by the whole situation. I tried to comfort him, and he nearly killed me. I knew Derek didn't mean to be mean. He was just losing it and feeling overwhelmingly guilty about everything going on. He was in hell, and you could tell. I didn't want to think what it would be like to be in his place. If anything ever happened to (Y/N) and I wasn't there to help her, I would go crazy. So I understood how Derek felt and did my best to be supportive.

Those days also made it pretty evident Rossi was still shocked we were such close friends and team members at the same time. I know he was friends with Gideon, but the fact our friendship surprised him so much made me wonder how close they really were.

It didn't get better when we were all asked to stop working on the case after Hotch found an encrypted file in Garcia's system, and she ended up suspended. That's who we found out how the FBI had recruited her.

Morgan and I were at the hospital with Penelope when Hotch gave her the news and heard the story of her hackers days. Something that I bet she didn't really want us to know about her.

- "After my parents died, I... kind of went off the rails for a while. I dropped out of Cal Tech. I lived underground, basically. But I kept teaching myself code. It was like the one thing that kept me together. In the way, the bureau decided to keep an eye on me, I guess... Did you know they keep track of hackers?"

Neither Morgan nor I opened our mouths. We couldn't, 'cos we were processing the whole information.

- "They do, of the ones who have the skill to be either extremely useful or a potential menace."

- "So they offered you a job?"- I asked her, and she simply nodded- "Like Frank Abagnale. The bureau figured if you can't beat 'em, hire 'em."

- "Yeah. Something like that."

- "Garcia, what's on the encrypted file?"- Derek crossed his arms on his chest and stared at her, waiting to hear nothing but the truth.

- "I'm required to keep a record of everything the team does. And after my system got hacked and Elle got shot, I just didn't want anyone else to be able to get at you."

- "We'll talk to the doctor, see if he'll clear you to leave,"- I whispered and left the room, just in time to get JJ's call to announce we were officially off the case. It wasn't good, and it wasn't getting any better at all.

In a way, the fact we were all such good friends wasn't as beneficial to the case as it could be. It all came clear later that night. Penelope was attacked again, this time in her own house. Unfortunately, a cop was killed in the process, and if it weren't for Morgan, who insisted on crashing her couch that night, Penelope would have been dead too.

We were all at her house at three in the morning. We wanted to take her to the BAU and keep her safe, though we all knew it would be hard to explain to the authorities, all things considered. We were all just talking about what had just happened when Garcia started remembering more details about her date with her attacker, and we decided to ask more questions about it in case she could give us more info that might lead us to him.

- "Tell us about the car,"- I told her and sat in front of her.

- "Why?"

- "Just go with him"- Morgan smiled at her and nodded, trying to reassure her everything was ok. It wasn't, not even close.

- "You said it was white, 4-door, American. What else?"- I asked Penelope, but she shook her head, confused.

- "That's it. It was just a car."

- "No, come on, think. Anything. Go back."- Morgan held her hand. We could tell she was trying her best to cooperate, and he was making his best effort to be sweet and calm, considering he was losing it to catch the asshole who hurt her.

- "The seat belt was buckled behind his back. Why does that matter?"- and that was progress.

- "It wasn't a rental. It was for surveillance,"- Derek explained to her.

- "Agents don't wear seat belts. They need to get out in a hurry"- (Y/N) added and was about to add something else when Rossi walked across the room and sat in front of Penelope.

- "All right, let's cut the crap. You need to be straight with us. Right now!"- she wide opened her eyes in shock and turned to Morgan- "Look at me, not them!"- Rossi commanded.

- "I'm not hiding anything,"- Garcia whispered, astonished.

- "You got shot. Most people get shot for a reason,"- she tried to look at Derek again- "Eyes here!"

- "Ease up, Rossi!"- Morgan shouted when David raised his voice, scaring everybody in that room.

- "You got a roomful of people here willing to believe that an FBI agent has tried to kill you. We need to know everything you do on company time that we don't know about!"

Rossi yelled on her face, pushing her to tell the truth, and Garcia nearly started crying.

- "What?"

- "Come on, man!"- I guess we were all waiting for Derek to lose it and punch him.

- "It's nothing bad!"- Penelope yelled, and every eye in the room turned to her.

- "Spit it out!"- David pushed her again.

- "It's... I counsel victims' families, and they know where I work, so sometimes they ask me to look into cases for them."

- "What does that mean?"- Rossi frowned and kept his eyes on hers.

- "It just means that the cases, the unsolved ones, I tag them, so whoever's investigating them knows that the FBI considers them a priority."

- "You're not authorized to do that"- Hotch's voice was as severe as kind, which surprised us all. Rossi the most, I guess, 'cos he stood up and turned around.

- "I know. I was just trying to help."- Garcia whispered, fighting the tears back.

- "But whoever's working those cases thinks you're watching them,"- (Y/N) said in a softer voice, probably to explain to Garcia how the whole situation had ended up with her being shot.

- "I just wanted to put pressure on them so that they don't slide,"- Penelope excused herself.

- "How many cases are we talking about?"- Hotch asked.

- "I don't know. 7, 8 maybe. I need to get into my system."

- "You can't. You're suspended,"- Hotch reminded her, though it sounded more like "you are grounded."

- "Wait a minute,"- Morgan interrupted the conversation- "Garcia, on your date, you said this guy was pressing you to find out if you were working murder cases. Hotch, we gotta look at those files."

Hotch looked at David, who was still as pissed as earlier. I don't think neither of us had ever seen him acting like it.

- "I told you, I'm sick of this jagoff being in front of us,"- Rossi said to him, and Aaron nodded.

- "Dave's right. We'll go back to the BAU. Morgan, Reid, (Y/N), Prentiss, you stay here and make sure no one forgets to log out of the system. Garcia should not have access."

We all stayed in her living room as Garcia walked to her room and hacked her own system. At the other side of the screen, Kevin Lynch, the analyst of another FBI department, was fighting back, trying to protect the files, and losing the fight after a few minutes.

Later on, (Y/N) explained to me that was how they met and finally how they fell in love. I guess everything happens for a reason, after all.

We didn't catch the bad guy that day. Instead, JJ was forced to kill him. It was the very first time she shot anyone, and surprisingly, she wasn't as shook up as we all imagined she might be.

- "You do whatever it takes to protect your family,"- she said when Penelope asked her if she was ok.

And she was right. That's how we all felt for each other at that point. And somehow, we all knew we were going to prove it, sooner or later.

(Y/N)'s point of view

I had been part of the BAU for almost three years already when it happened. And I felt so stupid 'cos we had all had a rough couple of weeks, and the last thing anyone needed was another worry. We had just gotten over the whole Penelope issue; having another member of the team injured was the worst thing that could happen.

But it did.

I got shot.

We were after our unsub. George Flemming. The bastard had killed four women in less than a month, convinced God had sent him to Earth to get rid of sin. We had been after him for two whole weeks until we finally got him. But I was stupid and reckless and didn't wait for backups. I wanted to catch that mother fucker, 'cos the way he had killed those women made me madder than I had ever been with an unsub before. That's too dangerous. You can't lose yourself in a case, 'cos you lose your objectivity. You risk your life every day in this job, but that specific day, I put mine on a silver platter.

We were supposed to wait for backup. I was just checking the perimeter, searching for the unsub. Spencer was with me, but he stayed behind for a second, trying to contact Garcia to run the plate number of a car we found hidden in a barn. I should have waited for him, but I couldn't stay still and do nothing when I heard a woman screaming for help. I had to run and try to save her. I wasn't going to let George kill yet another innocent woman and get away with it. He had to pay.

- "FBI! Freeze!"- I shouted as I walked into the last room of the house and found George holding close and pointing a gun at a woman who was covered in blood and bruises but still very much alive. Which, I must say, was a relief.

- "Stay away!! I'll shoot her!! I swear I'm gonna shoot her!!"

The unsub was sweating cold; he looked sick and weak. He looked like I could definitely take him down in a fight.

- "George! Put down the gun!"- I commanded and didn't move my eyes from him.

- "You put your gun down!"

- "I am sorry, George, but I can't do that!"- I answered- "Now let her go and put the gun down before anyone else gets hurt."

- "I don't have to listen to a whore like you! Who do you think you are? Giving me commands? You are evil!! Evil!"- he shouted, clearly losing control.

- "(Y/N), where the hell are you?!"- I heard Reid asking in the earpiece, and I just shook my head.

- "That's all you've got, George? Hiding women in the back of your house and threatening them with your gun? That makes your God proud?"

- "Shut up!! You bring disgrace to Earth! You should be punished too!!"- I took a step closer slowly and shook my head.

- "You are going to be punished, George. For killing innocent women."

- "Innocent? What makes you think they didn't deserve it?"

- "What makes you think you are the one to judge them?"

I kept my gun pointed at him, but I couldn't take a shot 'cos he grabbed the victim and kept her close to him, like a shield.

- "There's a special place in hell for whores like you!"- he announced, and suddenly, all I could feel was pain. There was a second gunshot, and George was down. I took a look around and saw Morgan still pointing his gun at him from outside the room, as Spencer and Prentiss ran inside, and he moved to me and held me close.

- "Medic!! We need a medic!!"- Reid yelled frantically through the speaker- "(Y/N)! How do you feel?"

- "I'm ok, honey bunny,"- I whispered in the most excruciating pain I had ever felt in my entire life- He just shot my shoulder, nothing important.

But the way Spencer looked at me, I swear that no one has ever looked at me the same until this day.

- "Don't move!"- he commanded, though his voice was soft and gentle. Prentiss took care of checking George's body. He was clearly dead. She liberated his last hostage and helped her to the ambulance while Reid stayed by my side until a doctor appeared.

- "Why didn't you wait for me?"- Spencer asked as they took me to the ambulance.

- "She needed help"- that was all I could say.

- "Please, try not to talk,"- the paramedic commanded and got me into the ambulance, followed closely by Reid.

- "I'm coming with her."

My best friend wasn't asking for permission. He was informing the medical team he wasn't going anywhere else. And by the tone of his voice, it was clear no one was ever going to change his mind.

- "That was so stupid, chipmunk,"- Spencer whispered and held my hand in our way to the nearest hospital. The paramedics kept pressing my shoulder to stop the bleeding, and I just closed my eyes 'cos honestly, it hurt too much to process what was going on.

- "I am so sorry I wasn't there with you, chipmunk."

- "It's ok, honey,"- I mumbled- "You are right. I was stupid. This is my fault."

- "Please, don't talk,"- the paramedic commanded again, and I just shut up 'cos the pain was too much.

Spencer stayed by my side the whole time. After we reached the hospital, the paramedics took me to the ER, where a doctor cleaned my wound and took out the bullet from my shoulder.

It was a clean wound, and luckily, no arteries were hit. I just got some stitches and a sling, plus a few painkillers I really didn't want to take, 'cos after Spencer's experience with drugs, I was scared of painkillers.

- "Thank you,"- I whispered to the nurse who helped me get dressed and walked out of the room to find Spencer filling up the medical forms and Morgan and Prentiss waiting for me

- "How are you feeling, princess?"- Derek asked and caressed my cheek.

- "Like a virgin"- I sang the Madonna song- "Shot for the very first time"- and though Emily chuckled, Spencer didn't think it was funny.

- "I can't believe you think this is something to joke about!"- Reid frowned, upset.

- "Calm down, honey. I'm ok, I'm alive. It was just a shot on the shoulder."

- "Just? Just a shot in the shoulder?"- and Spencer freaked out- "Did you know some of the larger vessels of the human body run through the shoulder? The subclavian artery and vein, which by the way, are the basic blood supply to the upper extremity."

- "I'm sorry, honey bunny. I shouldn't have said that."- I whispered and tried to calm him down, 'cos I knew precisely the kind of man Spencer could be when he was mad and stressed.

- "The brachial plexus is also located in the shoulder, and it's the primary nerve supply to the upper extremity as well,"- he added and didn't take his eyes from the form he was filling.

- "I understand,"- I added, but he didn't stop.

- "You should also know that the shoulder is a very complex spheroid joint, and if it's injured, it can lead to lifelong disability."

I stood in front of Spencer and placed my movable hand on his chest. That forced him to stop writing and look at me.

- "I'm sorry I got hurt. It was a mistake. I didn't mean to make you mad at me or worry. I am ok, I am here, and I promise I won't do something as stupid and reckless as this ever again. Ok?"

Spencer looked at me and sighed. Morgan and Prentiss were still there by our side, and I had the feeling that stopped my friend from saying what was in his mind. Instead, he nodded and cut me a short smile.

- "Good. Can we go home now?"- I asked, and Morgan grabbed my bag immediately.

- "The jet is waiting, pretty girl. Let's go."

The flight back home was too long. It was only a four hours flight from Fargo to Quantico. But it felt eternal. Besides, I kept doing my best to act cool and in zero pain, in a poor attempt not to worry Spencer. Little did I know, no matter what, he would be worried sick anyway.

- "I was on the phone with Frank,"- he announced and sat in front of me with a cup of hot chocolate.

- "Please don't tell me you called to tell him I got shot,"- Spencer stared at me and cut me a short smile. I closed my eyes and groaned- "Did he go nuts?"

- "No, I started by telling him you were alright."

- "Thank you,"- I whispered and sipped the cup he had prepared for me just the way I liked it, even with the little marshmallows.

- "Your mom went bonkers, though."

- "You called my mom?!"- I shouted, and everybody in the team turned around and looked at us- "Why did you do that?"- Spencer looked at me surprised and frowned.

- "You just got shot, chipmunk. Of course, I'm gonna tell your mom!"

- "But she is going to overreact!"

- "She won't! We already talked. She said she'd stop tomorrow by your apartment to have lunch."

- "Tomorrow, I'll be at work for lunch,"- I frowned, and I swear I wanted to cross my arms on my chest, but I couldn't, 'cos... I have been shot.

- "You won't be back to work until next week,"- Aaron announced from his seat, overhearing the conversation.

- "But Hotch! I'm ok!"

- "Spencer is correct. You just got shot. Take the rest of the week,"- I groaned and frowned at my boss.

- "I can still do my paperwork."- I can't believe I was begging not to get days off from work.

- "You do realize most people don't argue when their bosses give them a few days off, right princess?"- Derek took off his headphones and asked, frowning.

- "But I'm not injured,"- I argued, but I knew I was losing that fight.

- "Chipmunk, may I remind you, you just got shot!"- Spencer looked at me, annoyed.

- "But I'm fine! Look at me! I can dance!"- I was about to stand up and do a little dance, but Reid stopped me. He literally grabbed my good arm and kept me on my seat.

- "It's Wednesday. You just have to stay home Thursday and Friday. And I'll be there, making sure you won't do anything stupid."

I looked at Spencer and groaned one more time.

- "There's no way out of this, (Y/N). You are hurt, and I'm gonna take care of you."

- "Will you cook?"- I whispered and pouted, defeated. And Spencer chuckled, blushing.

- "I will definitely call and ask for your favorite food"- I tried not to smile and shook my head.

- "Oh no, no. If you wanna take the lead and take care of me, you will have to do the whole job and cook, Spencer Walter Reid."- I teased him, and his cheeks turned blood red in less than a minute.

- "Fine,"- he whispered, narrowing his eyes.

- "I can give you my carbonara a la Rossi recipe,"- David said to Spencer from his seat- "Guaranteed to heal all wounds, and special to cheer up your girlfriend, kid."

Everybody stayed quiet at the same time. I wide opened my eyes, shocked, and looked at Spencer, whose cheeks were burning red.

- "She... (Y/N) is not my girlfriend,"- Spencer mumbled and avoided looking at me for a few seconds. Rossi chuckled and turned to us.

- "You call each other cute nicknames, you are always together, you argue like I did with my first wife..."

- "No"- I shook my head and did my best to ignore Derek's teasing comments and Emily's laughter.

- "Well, you could have fooled me,"- David smiled at me, and I didn't know what to answer. I frowned and looked at Spencer, who somehow was even more blushed than he had been a moment earlier.

- "I'm driving you, by the way,"- he whispered, and I didn't really have the strength to argue against that, so I just nodded and sighed.

Spencer's point of view

I thought I was going to die when I saw (Y/N) lying on the floor, blood coming from her shoulder. Time passed in slow motion, like a movie cliché. I ran to her, and I didn't know if the perimeter had been secured. I had no idea if the unsub was dead. I would have killed him myself if I hadn't been focused on (Y/N).

Then she smiled and assured me she was ok. But that wasn't enough for me. Her face was so pale, though her smile was shining bright. So I held her and called a medic. She was in pain, and I didn't know what to do to help her.

I held her hand the whole ride to the hospital and stayed by her side in the ER while the doctor cleaned her wound and put some stitches on it. Then I walked with her to the jet, and the whole time I made my best and biggest effort to stay calm. But once we were on the air, on our way back home, I couldn't hold it back anymore. I could feel the tears fighting their way out, no matter how much I tried to keep them inside.

So I did what seemed more logical and locked myself in the backroom. I needed a minute to put myself together again before I had to continue pretending I didn't nearly lose the woman I love that day. So I washed my face and let the water run through my fingers for a few minutes, trying to calm myself down. But I failed, and the tears started falling down my cheeks anyway.

I rested my back against the door and slowly slipped down to the floor until I was sitting, hugging my legs, crying my heart out.

I knew why I was crying. It was a weird mix of fear and relief. I was scared to lose (Y/N), and at the same time, relieved nothing terrible had happened to her. I had to convince myself it was all ok, that she was there on the plane with me, hopefully trying to get some rest.

- "Spence?"- I heard JJ's voice at the other side of the door, and I quickly stood up and washed my face saying, "In a minute." I looked at my reflex. My eyes were puffed, my cheeks were red. There was no way I could ever convince anyone I hadn't been crying.

- "Can you open the door?"

- "There's another bathroom, JJ,"- I said and closed my eyes.

- "I need to talk to you."

- "I'm kind of busy here..."

- "Spence, please"- she begged, and I gave up, only because I knew she wasn't going to leave me alone. No one at the BAU seems to understand the concept of personal space.

I opened the door and let her in. The bathroom was too small for the two of us, and I didn't want to think of all the teasing I would get from Morgan if he saw us locked in there. JJ smiled and handed me a cup of coffee. I just sipped it carefully, 'cos it was very hot, and looked at my hands, avoiding eye contact.

- "Why were you crying?"- she whispered and stood against the wall in front of me.

- "I wasn't,"- I lied, but she just raised an eyebrow, and I knew it was useless to deny it- "It was a hard day, and I needed to decompress somehow."

- "Was it because of (Y/N)?"- she simply asked, and I just nodded- "It wasn't your fault, Spence."

- "I should have been there. But I stayed behind, on the phone with Garcia checking the plate of a car that didn't even matter at the end."

- "You were doing your job, and so was she."

- "But I should have done my job better, 'cos something bad might have happened to her, and I would have never forgiven myself,"- JJ nodded and reached out for one of my hands. I tried not to look at her but failed.

- "Are you going to tell her how you feel?"

- "Telling her I feel guilty she got injured won't stop her from being reckless,"- but JJ shook her head.

- "No, Spence. I'm talking about you telling her you are in love with her."

I widened my eyes and stayed still, shocked, blushed. JJ cut me a short smile and probably tried to soothe me, 'cos I immediately got all defensive.

- "What... what are you talking about? I am not in love with (Y/N),"- I whispered and prayed no one outside that bathroom had heard her.

- "Spencer, there is nothing wrong with being in love. I actually think you two would make a cute couple."

- "No, JJ, no. I am not in love with her."

- "Spence, I'm not a profiler, but you are not that hard to read. I can see the way you look at her."

- "She is my best friend."

- "But you love her,"- JJ sentenced, and I just sighed- "It's not wrong to have feelings for someone, Spence. I am sure she feels the same way too."

- "We are just friends. That's it. Thanks for the coffee,"- I added and opened the door.

I walked out of the bathroom in a rush. To avoid talking with anyone on the plane, I called Frank and told him what had happened. I also asked him for Mrs. (Y/L/N) phone number and explained the facts too. She was so scared it took me a while to calm her down.

- "I'm going to stay with her tonight,"- I said and looked at (Y/N) at the other side of the yet. She hadn't slept at all, and I knew she had to rest.

- "Thank you, Spencer. I'll be in Virginia tomorrow. I'm visiting Phoenix in New York this week."

- "Don't worry, Mrs. (Y/L/N), I'll take care of her."

- "You are the sweetest man she could have met,"- she whispered before hanging down, and I couldn't help but wonder if she knew it too.

Apparently, I wasn't hiding my feelings for (Y/N) very well. If JJ could see it, maybe anyone else could. And after what Rossi said, I didn't know if I was busted or not. I didn't know anything. (Y/N) seemed to be as shocked as I pretended to be, so I guess I felt safe. But I knew I had to watch my back now.

Of course, planning to stay with her that night didn't make it easier for me at all.

- "I'm ok, honey bunny,"- she argued and sat carefully on her couch- "You don't have to stay here with me."

- "I'm sorry, chipmunk, but you were shot. There is nothing on Earth that's gonna make me leave you alone right now."

- "Fine, then help me take a shower,"- she simply said, and I widened my eyes. I know I even held my breath at that. I stared at her from the kitchen door, on my way to make her a cup of tea.

- "Well, in that case, I, I will do... I will do whatever you need to help you,"- I whispered and made my best not to stutter. She shook her head and sighed.

- "I was bluffing, honey. But I mean it, you don't have to stay and take care of me. I'll be fine. Just go home and rest,"- but all I could do was walk to the kitchen and put on the kettle.

- "I'm not going anywhere, so... how do you feel about that carbonara a la Rossi recipe?"

- "Spencer Walter Reid, you don't cook."

- "I do cook! Do you think I've lived on take-outs and coffee all these years?"

- "Hell yeah!"- she said and chuckled. She was right, though. I wasn't the best or more experienced cooker on Earth. But for her, I could try.

- "I tell you what. What if you take a bath and relax, I'll cook you dinner, and then we'll watch a movie? Anything you pick."

- "Anything?"- she raised an eyebrow and stared at me so sweetly and concentrated, I nearly stopped breathing. I didn't trust myself with an answer, so I just nodded and looked at her. Her cheeks were blushing, and that made me feel better. Clearly, she was relaxing at home. The color was coming back to her after being hurt. That was always a good sign.

- "Even my favorite chick flick?"- (Y/N) bit her lips and caught my full attention with that simple movement. I nodded again, not really thinking what she meant with "chick flicks." All I could think of were her lips and how incredibly soft they looked.

- "Even Pride and Prejudice?"- she added, and I nodded again.

- "It's an essential piece of literature. Jane Austen was an incredible writer,"- my voice was muffled, and her eyes were shining- "Did you know In 1802, in her late 20s, Austen briefly accepted a proposal from Harris Bigg-Wither, the younger brother of two of her close friends? She rescinded it the following day."

- "Yes, neither her nor her sister ever married"- (Y/N) added, and her eyes moved from mine, traveling around the room- "She believed that a woman shouldn't get married if she wasn't in love. She once advised her niece Fanny Knight that "anything is to be preferred or endured rather than marrying without affection."

Somehow, (Y/N)'s eyes were blurry with sadness all of a sudden. Her words stopped. I was tempted to hold her hands that rested on her lap but stopped myself. I was scared to give too much away, and that she suspected how I felt about her. I didn't want her thinking I was in love with her. Don't get me wrong, I was. I am. And I know I will always love her. But that night on that couch, I was afraid of her rejection and scared she might have stopped being my friend if she ever knew how I really felt about her.

- "Maybe you are right, honey,"- (Y/N) whispered and slowly stood up- "I'll take that bath after all."

- "Watch those stitches"- I quickly stood up too and just nodded, looking at her as she started walking towards her room- "I'll cook dinner meanwhile."

- "Thank you, honey bunny,"- she said and turned around just to cut me a small smile before disappearing into her bedroom.

I made my best effort with dinner. I followed Rossi's instructions to the letter. (Y/N) had a lot of food in her fridge. Unlike me, she actually cooked her own meals. She was right about me and the take-outs. I had never been a great cook, and I trusted my local Thai place with most of my dinners. But that night was different.

Pasta carbonara was pretty good, I must say. (Y/N) opened a bottle of wine, though I told her it was a horrible idea mixing drinking with the pain killers she was prescribed.

- "I am actually not taking them,"- she whispered and took a sip of red.

- "You had a major injure on that shoulder (Y/N)."

- "It's just five stitches, honey. I don't need those pills. I actually didn't even get them,"- she replied. I looked at her in awe, thinking she was way stronger than she even gave herself credit for.

- "In that case, you can have two glasses of wine and extra dessert,"- I stated, and she chuckled.

We ate in silence, but it wasn't uncomfortable. I guess the two of us were pretty tired that night. It had been a long day, a long case, and though neither of us wanted to deal with it, we knew things could have easily gone wrong.

After eating, I cleaned the dishes and prepared a tray with a cup of herbal tea for (Y/N), a coffee for me, and two bowls of ice cream, and we cuddled on the couch to watch Pride and Prejudice. She whispered most of the lines and argued against Darcy for half of the movie. But by the end, she snuggled closer to me, and I wrapped an arm around her carefully, trying not to get near her shoulder at all. Her head was resting on my chest, and I could feel her sighing with each word that Darcy spoke.

- "What is it with you and this book?"- I asked her suddenly. She huffed and looked at me with a cut, short smile.

- "I don't know, but I've been obsessing with Darcy and Lizy ever since I first read the story. I guess the classic "fools in love" story is my weakness. How couldn't they see how much they loved each other from day one?"

My mouth fell open, but I didn't say a word. She just smiled and turned to the screen again. That was good. I didn't want her to see how flustered I was.

- "Darcy knew he loved her, but he tried to fall out of love with her, and she was completely blinded by her so-called "hate" towards him to deal with her real feelings."- (Y/N) added- "I know that's not a complex and complete study of the story but in a short version of the whole plot... I guess that's what's so endearing and addictive about it. Everyone has been Darcy or Lizzy."

- "I doubt most people can relate with having four sisters and an obsessive nervous mother who keeps forcing you to get married,"- I joked, and (Y/N) giggled.

- "You'd be surprised, honey,"- she sighed and snuggled closer. My hand played with her hair for a few more minutes until the end of the movie.

- "(Y/N)?"- I whispered when we were already in bed. I wore the pajamas I kept in my go bag and crawled into bed with her as soon as she asked me to sleep with her. Ee had done it before, it wasn't weird, and we were best friends.

There was absolutely nothing friendly with how I felt, though. But I had to put all those feelings in a box and hide them deep inside of me 'cos they were no good for our relationship.

- "What happens, Spencer?"

- "I just wanted to tell you... you scared me today,"- she sighed. We were already hugged, but she snuggled closer and kissed my cheek softly.

- "I'm sorry, Spencer. I'll be more careful, I promise."

It was such a simple promise, and I knew though she meant well, the job was always going to get in the way. Our lives were always on the line working at the BAU. And no matter how much we wanted to take care of ourselves, sometimes things were out of our control.

- "Promise me you'll be careful too,"- she whispered, and I leaned over to kiss the top of her head gently.

- "I promise I'll be careful, chipmunk."

- "Will you always come home to me?"- she whispered and sighed, dozing off.

- "Always. I love you so much, (Y/N)"- that last confession fell from my lips before I could even realize what I was saying.

- "I love you too, honey,"- she answered, her voice muffled against my chest.

I stayed still, trying to burn in my memory every second of that moment, 'cos I knew it was going to be one of my most precious memories until my last day.

–

DIWK Taglist:

@all-tings-diego @big-galaxy-chaos @muffin-cup @shilohpug @eternalharry @tvandfanfic

Spencer taglist

@calm-and-doctor

General Taglist

@spenxerslut @ash19871962 @babebenhardy @meowiemari @archer561

–

Do you want to be on the taglist or ramble about this chapter with me? Just send me a message here.

Next update: June 9th, 2021

[sunaswife]

Summary: It’s been five years since you’ve seen your ex, Rin. He’s still not over you and you’re not over him. When he finds out you have children he thought he didn’t have a chance. Then he finds out they’re his? All of a sudden you’re teaching Suna how to be a single dad.

🔪: <3 thanks for all the support so far

Warnings: Fluff, angst I guess, drama, and cuteness twin overload

Previously Up Next Masterlist

Chapter Thirteen

“Kuroo-San I’m very flattered but in reality I’m seeing someone.” You chuckled awkwardly as you both walked to the lounge after today’s game. “Really?! Since when! About a month ago during the black Jackals game you just said you were a single mom!” He exclaimed. “Well..in reality..I’m trying to make amends with the father of my children. We were both dumb and immature but now since we’re older, we can have a decent conversation. And I still have feelings for him in a way and he’s already confessed..so...” you scratched the back on your head. “Have you accepted his confession..?” He asked. “Well..I mean I kind of changed the subject..” you replied awkwardly. “Poor guy..” he put his hand on his chest as if he felt the pain. “Well it’s not right to pressure someone into going on a date with them so I’m sorry. I was out of line. And I hope everything goes well between you and Rintarou.” He said with a soft smile. He patted your head and walked away down the other hall, you just stood there dumbfounded. How does he know Rin is the dad..?

You haven’t checked social media or sports news so you’re not sure if people already know. You made you way into the lounge and opened your small locker. You took out your purse and walked to your car, you tried walking as fast as possible to avoid talking to people and when you were in the comfort of your car you took out your phone.

Your eyes widened at the amount of phone calls and messages Rin sent. You didn’t even have a chance to read the messages since you decided to call back Rin and wonder what is going on. “It’s about time you answer.” He immediately gritted, he obviously sounded pissed. “Excuse me?” You immediately said with such confusion.

Does he seriously think he can get away with talking to you like that?

“I said it’s about time you fucking answered. Why weren’t you answering my calls or messages?” He asked. “I was obviously working.” You said in a duh tone. “Is something wrong?” You asked. “YES something is wrong! My son almost died and I didn’t know what to do!”

Your heart dropped. He almost...died..? “W-wait—“ you shook your head. “What do you mean he almost died?” You asked. “He had an allergy attack and I had to use an epipen. I didn’t know what to do at the hospital. I rarely had any information. You never told me if the kids had insurance or anything.” “Is Rini okay?” You immediately asked. “Yes he’s fine. But you didn—“

“I’m on my way. For the next eight hours, think before you speak, okay? Don’t say anything you’ll regret.” You warned. “Whatever.” He muttered and hung up. Immediately your heart clenched and you threw your phone at the passenger seat. You rubbed your face and leaned forward and gripped the steering wheel.

“What the fuck.” You sighed. Throughout the drive back to Hyogo your hands began shaking thinking about your kids and Rin. The kids went through something traumatic, and you weren’t there to help them or to protect them. What kind of mother are you? You wanted to slap yourself so hard, jump off a cliff. Receive some sort of punishment for being such a stupid mother and trusting Rin with your children.

After a few hours, your makeup needed a touch up, your hair was a mess for running your hands through your hair hoping your son is okay. Your eyes felt droopy. You’ve only slept a good six hours between drives and it’s way past midnight. The sun began to rise and you finally passed the billboard welcoming you to the hyogo prefecture. You went to the hospital Rin said they were at and you quickly parked and made your way inside.

The poor lady in the office seemed startled at your appearance, your clothes were wrinkled, and your shirt was untucked and unbuttoned from the top, you had bags under your eyes, you were a whole mess. When she gave the room number you slipped off your heels and began jogging to your location. The door was opened so you peeked in and saw your daughter playing with her fox plush on the uncomfortable couch chair.

It was like she sensed you so she looked up and you made eye contact with your little girl. Her eyes immediately watered and she hopped off the chair crying. “Mommy!” She sobbed and you immediately bent down to pick her up. You held her close and her grip tightened around your shoulders. “Rini doesn’t feel good..” she mumbled in your ear. “I know baby, I know.” You answered and dropped your heels by the entrance.

You made you way inside and saw Rin hunched over on the bed sleeping. He was holding Rini’s hand who was also asleep. He looked alright and you sighed in relief. “Have you slept, Akira?” You asked and she nodded. “I slept with Rini, but grandma wanted me to go back home with her. But Rini needed me. He’s my twin.” She wiped her eyes and slightly pulled away. You neared the other side of the bed and pulled the lounge chair closer so you can sit. Akira was on your left thigh with her head still on your shoulder. You looked at Rini sleeping and you brushed some hair out of his face. He slowly opened his eyes and he smiled lazily, “I missed you momma..” he mumbled. “I missed you too. I came as fast as I could.” You assured. “I was so scared.” He admitted. “I know..and I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help you.” Your eyes began to water. “Don’t cry mommy.... then I’ll cry..” Rini held your hand with his free hand.

Your wiped under your eyes with the sleeve of your blazer to stop the tears from falling and you smiled again. “Okay I won’t cry.” You said and released a breath. “Can you sing me a song?” Akira asked in your neck, “Yeah I want a song too, please.” Rini pouted and you nodded. They had a favorite song from a certain show that they enjoyed the most. You began to sing softly and Rini squeezed your hand and Akira began to fall asleep again.

I always thought I might be bad

Now I'm sure that it's true

'Cause I think you're so good

And I'm nothing like you

Look at you go

I just adore you

I wish that I knew

What makes you think I'm so special

You saw as Rini’s eyes began to close so he could fall back to sleep, you heard snoring right in your ear and realized Akira knocked out as well. “You have a beautiful voice.” Rin said softly as he rested his head on the side of his arm. “Sorry that I woke you up.” You quickly apologized. “No it’s fine..” he yawned and slowly sat up. He winced slightly, “Damn I need to see a chiropractor.” He muttered and you released a small chuckle. “Me too.” You said.

“So is Rini okay? What happened?” You asked and he sighed and looked into your eyes. “My mom got some burgers from a restaurant where peanut oil is used. She didn’t know Rini was allergic and I didn’t check the bag.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” You raised your voice and his eyes widened. “Your mom almost killed our son and you blame me for leaving you without any information?” You asked and he looked down guilty. “She didn’t kn—“

“Of course she doesn’t know because all day she was acting like a conceited bitch instead of being a grandmother to her grandkids. She even called me a whore—“

“No she didn’t.” He immediately interrupted. “She didn’t because you stopped her. But that’s what she thinks right? I model for Hana’s company to support her and to build up my self esteem and now I’m a whore? And you had the audacity to talk to me so rudely when I didn’t do anything. If you’re going to be treating me like that then there’s the fucking door. You understand? Never again will I be disrespected by a man.” You said and he had no words.

“You make it seem like I did it on purpose. I was sleep deprived and scared. I felt like I was going to throw up.” Rin squinted his narrow eyes.

“Do you have any idea what I felt when I got a call eight hours away that my son almost died? Imagine how I feel when he calls out to me and I’m not there. I feel like I failed them as a mom, my chest hurts and I’ve always been there. Always. And now I leave them in your hands and something happens and I can’t get there soon? I almost had a panic attack on the drive!” You exclaimed and he stayed silent. He didn’t want to continue fighting. He’s sure the kids are awake and listening to everything.

“I’m sorry.” He said and looked at his hands. He felt defeated and disappointed. You shouldn’t be so hard on him, it’s been less than a month since he took on this role. “Hey look at me.” You called softly, he looked up and you made eye contact once more. “I’m sorry for going off on you like this, I’m just as upset and afraid as you are and I’m sure you haven’t slept much.”

“I could say the same for you, you look like shit.” He cracked a tiny smile and you rolled your eyes with a giggle. “So did your mom eventually decide to be a grandma or she still hates me so she’s not getting close?” You asked. “She went back home to bring some clothes and then to get us some breakfast. I sent her a screenshot of my notes.” He said and you nodded. You obviously still felt uneasy with her, but they deserve a grandma and if she’s being civil you have no reason to take them away from her.

There was a knock at the door and you and Rin immediately turned your heads. “Oh you must be mom..” the doctor said. “Yeah I’m mom.” You said. She explained that Rini stayed longer than usual because he is a child. After a severe allergic reaction there can be aftershocks hours after the person receives treatment and that can lead to a seizure. She praised Rin for quick thinking and following proper steps to insure his child’s safety.

When the doctor left, Rin’s mom waltzes in and she freezes when she sees you. You take a deep breath and release and decide that it’s best to keep quiet. You wouldn’t want a clique animosity between you and your maybe future mother in law.

“I brought Rini some spare clothes.” She said as she opened Rin’s old gym bag. “He doesn’t own that jacket.” You pointed out. Her face flushed slightly, “I know..but this was Rintarou’s favorite jacket when he was his age..I thought it would be nice to wear. I have a lot of Rin’s old baby and child clothes.” She admitted softly, almost scared that you would snap any minute. And you would, so she was wise to walk on eggshells.

“Okay that’s fine.” You gave in. You helped Rini get dressed while Rin was talking to the doctor and getting ready to check out. You walked barefoot down the hall with your pink heels in your right hand, while Akira held your left hand. Rini was holding hands with Suna and Rin’s mom was holding their stuffed animals. She trailed behind you four and saw how you and Rin swung akira with you arms, her little giggles filled the hall releasing serotonin to the patients and nurses nearby.

“Momma aren’t you gonna put your shoes on?” Rini asked, “My feet hurt and I don’t feel like falling.” “But it’s hot outside, you can burn your feet.” Rin spoke up, “I think I’ll be fine.” You assured. He rolled his eyes and let go of the kids. You were about to step on the asphalt of the parking lot after checking both sides and all of a sudden you’re being knocked back from your legs and carried bridal style. “RINTAROU PUT ME DOWN THIS INSTANT.”

“Nah.”

The kids giggled at their parents funny behavior, you kicked the air and squirmed but his grip tightened. “Do you really wanna get down?” He asked and you said yes. He pretended to drop you and you gripped onto his shirt for dear life and he started laughing. “I swear to God I am going to kick you where the sun doesn’t shine.” You muttered. He finally put you down but you were so distracted you were already at your car.

Karin took the kids to her car since the car seats are in there, so now it’s just you and Rin. “You give me a headache.” You told him. “But you love this headache—“ both your eyes widened and he stopped, “—sorry.” He immediately apologized.

You turned away to yawn and you muttered an it’s okay. He opened the car door for you just like old times, much to your dismay and he closed it when you entered. You put on your seatbelt and he fixed the seat and complained at how tiny you were. He was expecting you to fight back and bicker but you were already asleep.

He leaned forward and fixed your head so you wouldn’t hurt your neck. He started the car and began driving back home. He saw the two empty cups of coffee and some energy bar wrappers on the floor. The phone wasn’t playing any music but the volume was up to 20. You must have been so tired driving all last night and the night before for nine straight hours. No wonder you blasted music to keep you up and drank coffee.

He soon made it home and tried waking you up, but you didn’t budge. Not even shaking you work. You were a muttering unconscious mess when he helped you out and carried you bridal style once again. His mom let him in and he told Akira to unroll the futon in the living room since he couldn’t take you upstairs. He successfully placed you down and helped take of your blazer, he thanked god you were wearing an undershirt thanks to akira checking (no somnophilia shit here atm) and he helped unbutton your dress shirt so you wouldn’t feel hot. He put a light blanket over you. “Can’t believe I have to get you ready for bed like a child.” He muttered with a shake of his head. “Silence bottom, it’s mimi’s time.” You said in your sleep.

The kids ate their breakfast in the car as well as Karin. They were already awake and playing with Chewy outside again. “Mom.” He called, “Yes?” She asked from the kitchen. “Can I borrow your makeup wipes?” He asked. She smiled softly, looking out the window to check on the kids. “Yeah go ahead, they’re in the bathroom.”

Rin came back with the wipes and began wiping the makeup off your face. He didn’t want to press too hard to hurt you. But damn, this makeup was hard to take off. Finally you slept comfortably without makeup, without any interruptions. “Sweet dreams, love.” He smiled and moved the hair away from your face.

He stood up and grabbed the bag with all the kids school stuff and sat in the picnic table outside. “Alright you rascals time for school!” He yelled and the kids yelled an okay and went to join their dad.

“Hey dad..” Rini said. “What’s up?” Rin looked at his son, “I love you a lot. To infinity and beyond. Mama says that’s called unconditional love.” He said and Rin smiled with a nod. “Exactly, and I love you two unconditionally as well.” He said and Akira peered up from her work sheet. “Do you love mom unconditionally?” She asked Rintarou.

“Yeah. Yeah I do.”

Fun facts:

Someone asked me to do fun facts and if I had any for future chapters so here I go

The song YN sang is love like you from Steven universe but this is my fav version.

‘Mimi’s’ means sleeping time, Akira didn’t know how to say sleeping when she was a toddler so she would say Mimi’s cuz uncle Oikawa would say “es tiempo de dormir.” Which means ‘it’s time to sleep’. So MIMIS is taken for the ‘mir’ in dormir. (Sorry that was a long explanation) (if you live in a Mexican household then u might usually hear this)

YN drives a Black Honda CR-V (nice mom van) ☺️ while Rin has a White Nissan GT-R but he’s thinking of trading it in for a four door sports car to take the kids and yn along

Rin still has his old black mustang in a garage rental back in Tokyo where he would drive with YN everywhere. He wants to fix it up and gift it to one of his kids when they’re older 🥺

Idk why I’m talking about cars

Rin was a blushing mess when he was getting yn ready for bed and his heart stopped when she snuggled into him

After he admitted he loved YN unconditionally, Akira called him a simp

🏷: @therealwalmartjesus @differentballooncollection @aaesuki @atsunflower @dope-squish @prettysetterboiss @june-phantom @tomo-uwu @austriasmariazelle @xrnia @katsulia @aprettyfruit @shut-your-eyes-kiss-me-goodbye @tvbiio @sun-daddy-yoriichi @kamenoyaki @ppangiiroo @loeyprivvv @kmskj92 @lovinnoya @sarahvvictoria @tris-does-stuff @mokkeguts @sunaluvr6969 @bara-rose-would @sempiternal-amour @volleybloop @leykyuu @bokutoichigo @stfucanunot @iloveanime691 @atsumusdomain @ohrintarou @shoutosimp @mqrinqcele @bokutosdivineass @anngelllla @toworuu @hidden-otaku-stuff @seijohiselite @caxsthetic @aquariarose @hhwanggu @bakuhoetoedoroki @yoozuku @osamus-onigiri @akaashi-todorki @donica95 @kakaokenma @airheadpillar

[dumdumsun]

Forever and Never

A/N: A long one because it was a fun one. My absolute favorite chapter!

Warnings: mentions of marijuana, rape, blood and violence

Word Count: 6135

—————————————

Six: The Breakfast Club

“What are you thinking about?”

“H-Huh? What do you mean?”

“You’re smiling for the first time today. What are you thinking about?”

“...Stan.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Apparently, I had slept through all of my alarms because when I awoke the next day, it was almost nine. Cursing aloud, I sprang out of bed and zoomed to my closet, ripping out any clothes I could find. Not having time to pull together something totally retro as per usual, I threw on a maroon hoodie, wedged into blue skinny jeans, and slipped on my white sneakers. I applied deodorant and stuck a piece of gum into my mouth before slinging my backpack on. The school was a fifteen-minute walk from my house. I was going to be so fucking late. I was skipping every other step on my way downstairs when I heard a voice call out to me.

“Whoa, you’re still here?”

On my right was Jacob, sitting in the living room and watching television. He stood from the couch and slowly approached me with a smirk. “What are you doing here still?”

“What are you doing here still?”

“I don’t have classes today, Bug,” He lightly teased before gently pushing me towards the door. “Let’s go before you miss anymore school. Hopefully, you don’t get detention.”

“I won’t, Jake.”

I did. As soon as I opened the door to my English class, all eyes were on me like a newcoming circus act. Ms Anderson’s eyes cut to me the second I stepped in and before I knew it, she was stomping towards me, gently ushering me out of the room with her. When we were alone, she crossed her arms and stared down at me. I felt like a child getting scolded for breaking an expensive vase or something. “(Y/N), this is your fourth tardy this month.”

“I know…”

“Is there something we need to talk about?”

There are so many things I need to talk about.

“No… I just… um… I-It’s been a rough few days…”

“Well, I would let this slide, but I’ve already broken the rules twice for you. I’m sorry, dear, but I’m going to have to give you detention. Okay?”

Dammit, Jake… “Okay, fine. Can I just go back to class now?” I sighed. My teacher nodded and opened the door for me. Stepping inside, I was met with the smiles of Dina, Stan and Ricky all directed towards me. I returned the smiles towards my two friends before taking my seat beside Dina. Throughout class, two eyes bore into the back of my head, and I tried my best not to turn and look at who they belonged to. He was catching on. On my way to choir, I heard Ricky calling out to me. He was pushing and shoving past students until he was by my side.

“Babe, what’s been going on with you?” He gently nudged me, but my eyes stayed trained forward. “Oh, so the silent treatment… Are you gonna tell me what I did or am I gonna have to figure it out?” Silence. “Right, okay. I get it. Hey, listen, when you’re out of your bitchy mood, make sure to come talk to me.” And with that, he turned and walked in the opposite direction. Letting out a breath, I slowed my pace along with the beat of my heart. I never wanted anyone to dictate the way I felt, the way my anxiety sky-rocketed when they were around. But it seemed I was letting Ricky do everything to me.

When lunchtime rolled around, I wanted nothing more than to eat my first meal of the day. All throughout English and choir, my stomach had been curling into itself and I felt stupid for not at least grabbing a granola bar before I left home. After grabbing my food, I joined Stan at a near-vacant lunch table. He had been mindlessly picking at his lunch when I sat across from him. “Good afternoon, beautiful.” I whispered. Hearing my voice, he didn’t need to look up.

“Hey, (Y/N)...”

“(Y/N)? Whoa, what’s wrong?”

“Uh, it’s just Syd. She won’t talk to me…”

A pang of jealousy went through my heart. Knowing we’d never talk about our kiss the other night didn’t prevent my wave of disappointment whenever he mentioned Sydney. I mean, how do you even kiss a girl and then talk about a totally different one days later? As much as I love Stan, he could be an idiot sometimes…

I hadn’t even noticed I was spacing out until his voice spoke loud enough for me to snap back into reality. He had been staring at me with raised brows, an expectant look on his face. “O-Oh, sorry… Uh, do you wanna hang out later? Like, when we get home?” I calmly asked, my eyes flickering to the fading bruise decorating his eye. He shifted in his seat and returned back to his lunch.

“Um… I’ll see.” He mumbled, my throat constricting at his words.

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

Whitaker watched me like a hawk as I turned into the girls’ restroom.

“Don’t think I don’t know that trick, (Y/L/N)! You better get to the gymnasium as soon as you’re done!”

“Yes, sir.” I mumbled and closed the door behind me. To be honest, I didn’t think he knew that trick and was absolutely planning on spending the entirety of my detention in the restroom. Letting out a sigh, I leaned against the wall and texted Jacob.

Me: I got detention. Pick me up at 7 please?

Jake: Haha! I’ll be there, don’t worry

Jake: And don’t try hiding out in the bathrooms. Whitaker knows that trick

Me: Noted

Pocketing my phone, I pushed the door open and trudged to the gym. Even with the doors closed, I could hear Whitaker screaming at whoever else was inside. With a small groan, I lazily used my body to open one of the doors, the principal’s voice quieting as the screech of the hinges echoed throughout the room.

“Ms (Y/L/N), I would have thought that after getting detention for tardiness, you’d learn to be more punctual. Take a seat!” Whitaker boomed. Rolling my eyes, I moved over to the bleachers, surprised to see Sydney, Stan, Brad, Dina and… Jenny Tuffield.

I could be irritated with people all I wanted, but I never completely ignored or even spat insults or such at them, unless they truly did something to hurt me or the ones I care about. Hence the reason I ignore Ricky. But Jenny brought out a side of me I really despised. It was a side of myself that thought of the worst things to say and spewed them out without hesitation, resulting in a back-and-forth war between the two of us. It usually ended with death threats and flipping the birds to each other, but we’ve never physically fought. That could change one day, who knows? I could feel her sickening smirk as I passed her to sit in front of Stan, who looked bewildered to see that I was here with him in detention. I patted his knee before turning back to Whitaker, who had been waiting for me to do as I was told. Satisfied, he continued on.

“Now that you all are here,” He cut me a look. “I want you to take the next few hours and think about your mistakes. And carve out in your mind a plan for change. Determine how to improve yourselves. Define what the word ‘respect’ means to you.”

Get a job, dude…

“Now you can start by respecting this beautiful gymnasium. Between now and seven p.m., you’re gonna scrape up every goddamn piece of gum from the bleachers,” He stepped forward and slammed a box down in front of us, no doubt full of the tools needed for our manual labor. The six of us all rolled our eyes as Whitaker stepped back again. “Get started.”

“Uh, Mr Whitaker, sir,” I heard Stan from behind me. “Um… Will there be a break for snacks or dinner?”

Silence was his answer. Whitaker stared at Stan as if he’d just asked him to lick his shoes before exiting the gym. From behind me, I felt him lean forward towards Sydney, picking up on their very quiet and very short exchange.

“Hey, I’m really sorry-”

“No. I’m not talking to you, okay?”

Reaching over, I tugged on Stan’s jacket sleeve, the boy shuffling so that our faces were right beside each other. “What are you doing in here?”

“I called File a motherfucker.”

“You- What?”

“Okay,” Dina’s voice interrupted us, causing everyone to turn to her as she stood from her spot beside Brad. “I know none of us wanna be here right now, but I was thinking, if we divide and conquer the bleachers, maybe we could be done before seven and Whitaker will let us out early, so…” Her suggestion earned a smile from her boyfriend and a sarcastic remark from Jenny, who I nearly forgot even existed. She clapped her hands, everyone turning to her.

“Go team!” She mimicked your everyday cheerleader as Dina sat back down, a look of irritation on her face.

“I’m not a cheerleader.”

“Maybe you should be.”

“Maybe you should be in prison.”

“Ooh. That’s my wet dream…” She drawled out, running her tongue over her top teeth. I rolled my eyes and turned my head away.

“I don’t know, guys,” Stan spoke up. “This gum has been here for decades. I don’t think Whitaker actually checks. It’s just a social experiment, like a simulation.”

“Oh. Well, someone’s been smoking their supply.” Brad quipped. I narrowed my eyes and was about to give a sly remark when Jenny interrupted.

“You know what?” She whipped her body around to face us all, that wicked smile stretched across her face. “I have an idea. Why don’t we play Fuck, Marry, Kill?”

I couldn’t help myself. “What are you, thirteen?” I snarled. Our fellow delinquents stared between us with unease. “You say it like we’re about to huff some fucking gasoline. Are you supposed to be some kind of badass?”

Her eyes slid over to me, her grin widening. “Awe, Zip, I haven’t spoken to you in so long, I thought you died…”

“I wish you died…”

“So, who goes first?” Her head snapped towards everyone else, her finger moving towards each person in the room. “Eenie… meenie… miney… Brad.” She whispered out. Brad looked towards his girlfriend.

“Guess if I had to-”

“No. Not another word.” Dina shook her head.

“Oh, what about you, Miss Goody-Goody? Or are you too afraid to play?” Jenny gave a fake pout.

“Why would I be afraid?”

“Cool then. Fuck, Marry, Kill. Stanley Barber… Mr Whitaker… and… Syd.”

“Well, clearly, I’m killing Whitaker.”

“So are you gonna fuck Syd or marry her?”

Dina exhaled through her nose before looking to her right, eyes locking with Sydney. “Total life goal to marry your best friend, if Syd’ll have me.” She softly spoke, bringing a small smile to my face at their soft exchange. Of course, though, Jenny had to ruin it.

“Oh, so then it’s you and Stan in an all-day bone sesh. Ugh, you little slut.”

So over the sound of her fucking voice, I threw my head back in annoyance. “Jesus Christ, Jenny, you are so fucking boring!”

“No need to tell him about it,” She laughed tauntingly. “I’m guessing you wanna go next, since you got my attention. Or are you saving all of the sex and marriage for your little boyfriend?”

“Oh, bite me.”

“Ooh, where?”

Snapping, I slapped my hand down on the space beside me, my gaze set and locked on her. “No one gives a shit about you, Jenny!”

“And people care about you, Zip?! Where’s your fucking dad?!”

Fire in my eyes, I lunged towards her, but felt hands grabbing onto my shoulders and sitting me back down. The hands soothingly rubbed my arms as Jenny cackled. “Come on, (Y/N), it’s just all fun here… Now, for you, your very own Ricky Berry… Stan… and Dina.”

Scratching my cheek, I rolled my eyes so far back, I could feel them do a three-sixty rotation. “Fucking hell, you never give up. Fine, I’d marry Dina, fuck Stan, kill Ricky.”

Jenny lowly whistled as the hands on my arms slowly slid away. “But Zip, I thought you two were in love,” Her grin was something of evil as her brows bounced. “You guys had so much fun, fucking at his party. Oh! Or is it because you were drunk off your ass and he wasn’t?”

“Jenny, shut the fuck up-”

“No consent whatsoever… Boyfriend of the year…”

Having Jenny see me break down in front of everyone was not a moment in time I’d ever want to experience. She already got what she wanted, a reaction from me. She didn’t need a bonus. So, standing to my feet, I darted to the locker room, trying my best to block out Jenny’s laughing. I couldn’t help the tears that cascaded down my cheeks as I stood in front of one of the mirrors, hastily wiping them away.

Why are you letting her get to you? Why are you letting Ricky get to you? He can’t hurt you anymore, stop crying about it!

The creaking of the door sent my body into a stiffened, frozen state. That was, until I heard his voice, “Hey, lovely…” Turning my head to Stan, I sighed out.

“Hey, beautiful…” I sniffled as he made his way over to me. We stood in a comfortable silence, Stan understanding that I needed a moment to compose myself. “S-Sorry about that. You know I just fucking hate her guts-”

“No, I get it. We all hate her guts.” He cracked a smile. I quietly chuckled and stuffed my hands into my hoodie pockets. “Do you wanna talk about it, (Y/N)?”

“Not really… I don’t wanna think about it right now…”

“I know, but, like, it’s good to talk to someone about… you know, traumatic things that happen so it doesn’t bottle up-”

“Yeah, I know, Stan, I just can’t- I can’t think about it right now. We can do it, like, later… Not at school.”

He slowly nodded. “Totally. I understand. So… you ready to head back out? We’re not actually scraping gum. So we can just sit and talk.”

“I’d love to just sit and talk with you.”

Ten minutes later, everyone was spread out, Syd more than anyone. I had no idea where she’d gone, but apparently she stormed out shortly after I did. I guess Jenny knew how to get under everyone’s skin that day. Said girl was sitting against a brick wall away from the bleachers, where the other two pairs of us were. Brad and Dina were hugged up on each other, whispering into each other’s ears and quietly laughing. Stan and I were on the edge of the bleachers, the boy stretched across the one on the first level, and I on the second. As he fiddled with his rubix cube, my index finger reached out and gently traced his facial features. I started off with his brow, careful of his wound on the edge. It was clearing up and that caused a smile to appear on my face. Next, I let my fingertip brush across his lashes and he furrowed his brows, trying to focus on his cube. My finger then glided down the bridge of his nose. I quietly laughed when his eyes comically crossed to look at my finger. With a giggle, Stan jutted his chin upwards to gently kiss my fingertip. “Stop distracting me.”

My hand lazily dropped to his hair as I whispered out an apology. Not too long afterwards, I heard a voice quietly call out Stan’s name, but he was too fixated on his toy. My eyes looked to Sydney, who was standing in the doorway, desperately trying to get the boy’s attention. When she called out to him again, he actually looked at her. Looking between the two of us, she frantically motioned for Stan to come outside. When he only raised a brow, she did it again. Letting out a sigh, he wordlessly handed me his cube before sitting up and following Syd out of the gym, closing the door behind him to allow them privacy. Puffing out a sigh, I began playing with the multicolored cube in my hands. I never was very good with rubix cubes, my patience always ran too thin to finish them. That time didn’t seem to be an exception, either, because minutes in, I set it down and rested my head down to hopefully sleep off the rest of detention.

As I began to doze off, I heard the double doors screech upon Sydney’s arrival. She anxiously walked past me over towards the other side of the gym, where Dina and Brad had moved to suck face. I heard her call out to her friend a few times before she loudly spoke, “Look, Dina, I need a tampon right now.”

“Just dig in my bag.”

“I… I do need you, but for… but for something else.” She stuttered out. And with that, the two exited the gym. Suspicious about what my friends were plotting without me, I slowly sat up from my lying position and sat normally on the bleacher, waiting for one of them to come back. Hearing footsteps approach me, I knew it either had to be Brad or Jenny, and I was praying to the stars it was the former. As unusual as it sounded. The bleacher moaned under Brad’s weight as he sat beside me.

“Hey, Zip,” He greeted with a smile. I side-eyed him for a second before turning my gaze to my shoes. Scoffing, he shifted his legs. “You’re ignoring me now? Oh, come on. We’re friends, Zip. Good friends.”

“We are not friends, Bradley,” I almost laughed. “You’re friends with Ricky and I want nothing to do with him, so… I guess you know where the two of us stand.”

“Okay, well… Regardless, as Ricky’s best friend, I can say for him that what he did was fucked up. Right?”

“Yeah, no shit.”

“Right! But listen, we all make mistakes, Zip. Ricky really loves you, you know that, right? He would never do anything to hurt you.”

I was silent for a bit, only to prevent myself from decking Brad in the nose. “Well, he clearly didn’t love me enough. Not enough to respect my right to consent-”

“Zip-”

“And you know what, Brad?” I slowly stood to my feet. “I’ve had enough of you defending everything he does! You can tell Ricky to get lost and leave me the hell alone!”

Before he could utter another word, I marched straight through the double doors. Three figures stood ahead, and I was more than ready to push past them, but I recognized each of them. Halting in my tracks, I saw Dina, Syd and Stan all nervously staring at me. Confused, I put my weight on both my feet. “Uh… what’s going on?”

Dina was the first to answer. “We… need your help distracting the janitor to get his keys.”

“W-What? Why?”

“Well, Stan and Syd hooked up in the library and got it on camera-”

“You guys hooked up again?” I turned to my best friend, who quickly turned to Sydney. She frowned and stood up straighter.

“You told her?”

“S-She’s my best friend! She tells me when she has sex!”

Widening my eyes, I let out a scoff. “I had sex, I don’t have sex.”

“Well, whatever, can you do it?” Sydney changed the subject. I looked between the three in confusion.

“Okay, but why me?”

“Because you have boobs. Like, a nice size.”

“Uh-”

“And,” Dina cut in. “Because you’re a great actress. The best out of all of us.”

My lips quirked up into a small smile, Dina satisfied that she boosted my confidence enough for me to accept. Lucky for them, my locker was just across from the gym, so I unlocked it and pulled out a spare tee. ‘Can’t seduce anyone wearing that’, Dina told me.

Shortly after, Stan and I were in a corner as I changed my top. He was nervously staring down at his shoes as I pulled my hoodie off. “I didn’t want you to be the distraction. Are you sure you’ll be okay doing this?”

“I’m not seducing him, Stan,” I chucked my hoodie towards him. He looked up to catch it, but as soon as his eyes raked over my almost bare chest, they darted downwards again. “That’s just a back-up plan.”

“O-Oh, okay…” He nodded as I pulled my shirt on.

Minutes later, I entered the classroom Carl the Janitor had been cleaning. He looked up at me and nodded. “Hey, (Y/N).”

“Hi, Carl. Listen. So, I kinda snuck out of rehearsal earlier and I need to get back into the auditorium. But guess what? The door’s locked. I really don’t want Ms Turner to find me out. Do you think you could help me? Please?” I tapped my fingertips together as he sighed.

“You know I can get in trouble doing that…”

“I-I know, but it would mean so much to me. I promise I won’t get you caught.”

“Well, what about the back entrance? She never locks those doors.”

He was right. Clearing my throat, I looked to the side. “W-Well, she did today…”

His eyes narrowed in suspicion for what felt like forever before relenting, handing his ring of keys over. “Okay, just get them back to me in twenty minutes.”

“You’re the best, thank you.” I grinned and stepped out of the room. Swinging around the corner, I found Dina and Syd waiting for me. Upon my arrival, they both grinned. “Nothing wrong with asking politely, ladies. We got less than twenty.” I cheekily smiled, handing the keys over to Sydney. Dina chuckled and crossed her arms as I took my hoodie from Syd and pulled it back on.

“So, what’s the plan?”

“The plan is quite simple.” Stan’s voice appeared as he approached us, two microwavable burritos in his hands.

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

“First, we distract Whitaker with burritos. I’m gonna put these in the microwave and blast these bad boys up on high, and then…”

The explosion muffled by the closed door was enough to get Mr Whitaker rushing out of the teachers’ lounge. “What the hell- What the hell is goin’ on down there?! Jesus!”

“...Whitaker will hear it and come runnin’. When he takes off from the teachers’ lounge, the coast’ll be clear straight through to the principal’s office, and then we make our move.”

As the principal moved past the closet we were all hiding in, Stan slowly opened the door, giving the four of us the chance to run out. As Dina and I silently followed Whitaker, Stan and Syd headed towards his office, keys in the latter’s hands.

“Syd, you’re the key man… Key lady.”

“Wait, why am I the key lady?”

“Because you’re… good with your hands.”

“Ew.”

“Dina and (Y/N), you two are lookout. You keep eyes on Whitaker.”

I crouched down and peeked around the corner as Dina did the same right above me. Whitaker had just opened the door to the microwave, the smoke engulfing him as he coughed and fanned it away.

“The burrito bomb should keep him busy for awhile.”

The two of us watched in amusement as he grabbed the fire extinguisher from the fire emergency supplies and sprayed it into the closet.

“That man cannot resist a fire extinguisher, which will give us the time we need to get in. Burrito bombs are disgusting. Last time I set one off, my whole house smelled like bean farts.”

“True story.”

“Gross.”

Sooner than we expected, Whitaker took off from the crime scene in a hurried pace. Dina and I quickly rushed towards our friends, the girl waving her arms in the air as I readied the door to the closet for us.

“Anything goes wrong, lookout crew, you signal us… and everyone take cover.”

Once Stan and Syd noticed Dina, they scurried off down the hall to hide. I pulled Dina into the closet with me and silently closed the door as we crouched down.

“That is literally the worst idea I’ve ever heard.”

“It’s fair. It’s totally fair. Can you think of a better one?”

…

“Our best hiding spot’s probably behind the trophy case. And we wait…”

A collective sigh of relief filled the closet as the savior ringing echoed through the halls.

“...for the smoke alarm. Which will buy us more time. Which we will need, because there are a shit-ton of keys. Like a metric shit-ton, it’s ridiculous.”

After our principal took off away from his office again, the closet door slowly creaked open as Dina and I watched Syd and Stan successfully enter the principal’s office.

“Once we’re in, we head straight for the security system in the closet. And that’s it!”

The smoke alarm cut off its insistent ringing within seconds. My heart thumped in my throat as Whitaker’s form stormed down the hallway, towards his office in angry strides. Thankfully, Syd and Stan ducked down before he caught sight of them. As soon as he passed us, I gently nudged Dina out of the closet. “Go create some big distraction that’ll lure him away,” I whispered under my breath. “I’ll keep him from the door.” I stood up straight as Dina nodded and silently hurried down the opposite end of the hall.

“Whatever you do, do not panic. Do not bail… or we are screwed.”

Whitaker was seconds from the door and I had yet to come up with a way to get him distracted again.

“Okay, but what happens if your plan goes to shit?”

Finding the key on his ring, he began jiggling it into the lock.

“It won’t.”

I stepped out of the closet, breathing labored in panic.

“But what if it does?”

When the lock sounded, I let out an ear-splitting scream that had Whitaker jumping three feet in the air. When his gaze settled on me, he marched my way, steam practically shooting from his ears. “(Y/L/N), what the hell is the matter with you?!”

“U-Uh- Uh, something happened down that way!” I blurted out, pointing down in Dina’s direction. His head followed my finger before it snapped back to me.

“Well?! What ha-”

A crash sounded.

“Improvise.”

The poor man shook his head in exhaustion. “I’m too goddamn old for this shit…” He whined before taking off down the hall, away from his office. Once the coast was clear, Syd and Stan peeked up, watching as I gave them a thumbs-up. They gratefully smiled my way before standing and finishing the job.

“And if all goes well, as it should, we grab the footage, our sexcapade remains private, and nobody gets expelled.”

My shoulders sagged as Sydney walked out of the office with Stan behind her, holding up the flashdrive in her hand.

“Let’s hope this shit works.”

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

It totally worked. After our brilliant scheme, the four of us sat in front of the lockers to rest, my form sandwiched between Stan and Dina. He kissed the flashdrive and let out a breath. “Oh, I thought we were screwed…”

“We were screwed, but holy shit, we did it.” Dina quietly laughed along with the rest of us.

“Thank you guys,” Sydney smiled, the three of us turning to her. “Seriously.” She chuckled as I reached my hand over to Stan’s pocket. Catching onto what I was doing, he fished his case out himself.

“Wonderful idea, Nugget,” He pecked the back of my hand with his lips before I could move it away and slid a joint from his case. “Any takers?”

“You’re not serious.” Dina frowned as Stan took out his lighter. He nodded to her with furrowed brows.

“He is.” I grinned fondly at my best friend as he lit up the end of his joint and inhaled the smoke before handing it over to me. I happily accepted it and took a hit as Dina glanced around us, hoping no adults were around to witness the scandalous act. She choked out a laugh when Sydney accepted the joint from me.

“Since when do you smoke weed?”

Sydney slyly smiled and stretched the smoke over to her, my own hand taking it to give her better access. “Oh, come on, Dina. Everyone’s doing it. Don’t you wanna be cool like us?” We all giggled and watched as Dina hesitantly took a hit from the joint. Her own snorting encouraged our laughter to increase, the four of us blissfully unaware of what lay ahead of us just in the locker room down the hall.

We sat in that hallway for the next half hour, talking about everything and nothing as our time of release approached closer. When the joint was finished, we entered the gym to enjoy our fading highs in peace. Dina headed over to the bleachers, and Stan and I sat on the bench beside the locker room, as Sydney headed inside to use the bathroom. The two of us sat in a comfortable silence as he shifted the colorful columns of his cube. I rested my head on his shoulder and closed my eyes, and soon after, I felt his head rest against mine. “So… are you gonna need a ride home?” He whispered.

“No. Jake is picking me up.”

“That’s good, that’s good. Um… now do you wanna talk about how you’re doing? I know that, like, we’re still in school and we’re not entirely alone, but I just wanted to see how you were after you had to-”

“I’m doing better,” I interrupted his rambling. “Thank you.”

His hands froze their fiddling before one shyly crept close to mine. I felt his fingers graze my thigh as he interlocked our fingers in a tight hold. “Of course, Nugget.” He muttered right as Dina walked to the door to the locker room, giving me a smirk before walking inside. Stan then held up his rubix cube and chuckled. “Wanna try and solve it together?”

“Oh, my god, yes.” I laughed. And with that, we were using our free hands to turn and shift the cube around, hushed laughter filling the gymnasium as we told each other ‘no, not that way’, ‘turn the blue one’, and ‘yeah, yeah, that one’ for the next minute and a half of peace. Once our time was up, the door to the locker room slammed open and a teary-eyed Dina stormed out, a frantic Brad behind her.

“Babe, wait, please. Syd’s lying, I swear to god! Please! She’s lying!” As Dina walked out of the gym, Whitaker walked in, watching her go. “You’re not seriously breaking up with me right now!”

“Hey! Which one of you punks eats burritos?” Our principal shouted, Stan and I stifling our laughter in each other’s hair and shoulder. “Alright, I don’t know what the hell went on tonight, but I wanna see everyone in my office first thing in the morning!” He gave us one last look before exiting again. As soon as he was gone, Brad turned to Syd with a clenched jaw.

“I offered you a truce, and you fucked it up. This is on you. You remember that.” He pointed at her before angrily stomping out. Stan and I detangled ourselves from each other as Jenny walked out of the locker room with crossed arms.

“Ah, another day in paradise,” She looked between the three of us as her smile faded. “So, you guys wanna get wasted?”

I scoffed. “Fuck off, Jenny.”

Waving Stan and Syd goodbye minutes later, I joined Jacob in his car. He smiled over at me as I clipped my seatbelt on over myself. “So? How boring was it?”

“Oh, a total fucking snoozefest.” I rolled my eyes, my cousin chuckling and pulling off towards our home. Halfway through the car ride, I heard him turn down his music and sigh.

“Bug, what’s going on with you?”

“Huh?” I turned to him with raised brows.

“You’re… You’re different. You’re quiet, you skip dinner sometimes, you’re sleeping in. You never do that, especially the quiet part. Jesus, you’re so loud-”

“Okay, asshole, I get it!” I laughed quietly before going completely silent again. Not realizing I proved his point, I jumped when he poked my arm.

“See? Something’s wrong with you. What is it? Is it Ricky?”

“I-” I don’t know why I wanted to keep the whole situation a secret. Things like this needed to come into light and Ricky deserved to be exposed. Sensing my hesitancy, Jacob nodded.

“There we go. What did he do this time? Did he forget an anniversary? No? Did he… cheat?” Silence. “Did he do worse?” My eyes darted away. “(Y/N), did he do worse…?”

“I don’t know if I should say, Jake-”

“You absolutely should say it, (Y/N). Did he hit you?”

“No.”

“No? Did he… you know, touch you?” His tone softened as tears welled up in my eyes. “Bug, what happened…?”

“H-He raped me…” I cried and covered my face. “I got drunk on his birthday and he took advantage of it. A-And then he lied and said we were both drunk. B-But everyone else said he wasn’t even drunk.”

A beat of silence passed before the roar of the engine slid in pitch. I looked up at the houses and street signs that flew past us in a blur. “J-Jake, what are you doing?!”

“We’re gonna pay Ricky a visit.”

Before I knew it, we were in front of Ricky’s house. Jacob silently released himself from his restraint and exited the car. I sunk down in my own seat as I watched Ricky walk out of his home and towards his car. Upon seeing Jacob, he happily waved, but his smile vanished when Jacob decked him in the face so hard he fell to the ground. My breathing sped up as I jumped out of the car, speeding over to the two. “Jake! Stop!” I screamed as he straddled Ricky, landing punch after punch on his face. Ricky cried out and tried to push him off, but it was no use. Jacob was so much stronger than him. I knew pulling on him and screaming at him would do nothing, so I looked up and turned all around, watching as some neighbors peeked out their windows and front doors to watch the scene unfold. When I heard a crunch, I whipped back towards them and almost hurled at the bloodied mess that was Ricky’s face. “Jake, come on!” I screamed and pulled him off.

Stumbling to his feet, Jacob grabbed Ricky by his collar and lifted him close. “I don’t ever wanna see you near her. I don’t wanna hear that you spoke to her, I don’t even wanna know that you looked at her,” He growled, Ricky frantically nodding. “Don’t ever associate yourself with my sister ever again or I will make sure your eyes are swollen shut next time. Got it? Got it?!”

“Yes.” Ricky wheezed out before he was dropped to the ground.

“We’re going home, Jake! Jake, let’s fucking go home!” I screamed and ran to his car, getting in the driver seat. Chest heaving, he strode back over to the car and got in the passenger seat, sighing heavily as I drove away, leaving behind a groaning Ricky. I hadn’t even noticed his bloodied and bruised knuckles until I parked the car. Like a worried mother, I helped him out and over to the front porch.

“Hey, lovely!” I heard Stan call out. Looking up, I saw that he and Syd were just about to enter his house. “Do you wanna-”

I fished out my keys and hurriedly unlocked the door, pushing my cousin inside and shutting the door behind us. After ordering him into the bathroom, I found some bandages and hydrogen peroxide and joined him inside. The next few minutes were spent in silence, save for the soft hisses that escaped him when I dabbed the chemical onto his cuts. As I wrapped his hands, I felt his eyes on me. “(Y/N)?”

“Yes?”

“If he tries anything ever again, tell me immediately.”

“I know.”

“I’m serious,” He ducked his head down to meet my eyes, his own shining with unshed tears. “I promise you, he won’t lay a finger on you as long as I’m around.”

Setting down the blood-covered cotton ball, I nodded and allowed my lip to quiver.

“I know.”

—————————————

Taglist: @nate-isnt-great @sapphicsyn @stqnley @lonely-kermit @a-t-h-r-e-e-n-a @moatsnow

[seoracle]

DRIVERS LICENSE; i

Pairing: Bang Chan x Idol! Gender Neutral Reader

Genre: Fake Dating! AU, Angst, Lovers to Enemies(?), Occasional Pining, Comedy, S for potential smut(??)

Summary: Y/N has become an overnight sensation with ‘Drivers License’, Breaking records left and right...But what if the press gets wind of the ill-matched lovers and their company decide it’s the perfect attention ploy?

Word Count: 3.2K

Warnings: Swearing (a lot near the end), Drinking mention

A/N: this was meant to be a drabble... now it’s becoming a series...i’m sorry

“...and the winner of Inkigayo today is...Y/N with ‘Drivers License, Congratulations!”

You step towards the center of the stage and take the trophy and bouquet from a rookie idol, who flashes a bright smile at you, but you can see the envy in his eyes. You once had that same hunger and ambition that he seems to reek of, it’s a reminder of how far you’ve come.

Taking the mic, you begin to sing a more sultry and edgier vibe than usual, which seems to gather more screams from fans than usual. You remember what Seulgi taught you and gaze at the camera lens with a subtle pout, trying to capture the angst of the song in your gaze.

It feels ridiculous, feigning emotions you no longer feel, singing a song you begged the company not to put out in a corset fitted shirt that’ll leave your ribs sore and reddened. It’s pathetic and cliche, you quite literally sold your soul (well, heart) for fame. 

“Yeah, you said forever, now I drive alone past your street…”

Everyone behind you waves at the camera, signalling the show is ending. You leave last, taking several confetti bits for your scrapbook, which is the only thing keeping you from remembering this is all real. 

Backstage, Iris and San are waiting in your dressing room, they greet you with proud grins and slaps on the back. 

“Well, if it isn’t miss twelve...no, thirteen wins in two weeks.” San praises, enveloping you in a hug.

“Could be thirteen by tomorrow~” Hums Iris in a sing-song tone.

A groan leaves your lips, while slumping into an uncomfortable chair. You tune out their excited plans for your makeup and hair tomorrow, San says something about an end of year Award show.

All you want is to go home to your empty dormitory and sleep.

When you finally arrive to the ‘comfort’ of your ‘studio apartment’ (box room), it isn’t long before you strip down to your pyjamas and aggressively rub off the layers of makeup that seem to cling to every pore and fine line of your face. The cold air from the fan soothes the aching of your body from your strict workout routine. You stay awake until 4am, reading comments from netizens and replying to fans on your fancafe, it  was hard not to become obsessed with checking what people thought; whether they loved or loathed you.

[+184 -93] Y/N is talented, but they look devoid of emotion since last week...maybe singing a song so personal isn’t a good idea….what if the person it’s about hears it…..

User FYL**8 was right, it had become draining trying to convey emotions you’d long let go of. Your debut song was fresh and fun, it didn’t garner much attention but at least you hadn’t had to fake emotions and relive your first heartbreak.

Although the memories of the breakup didn’t hurt as much, the happiest ones were the most painful. The feeling of ignorance, thinking he meant forever and believing him completely...it was all so distant yet felt a fingertip away.

That night you slept with a heavy heart, remembering what it felt like when he’d hold you close and right and kiss you on the head to soothe your worries. Why did it have to end? Why like that? You try to drift into a nice sleep after another exhausting day but to no avail, thoughts of him are flooding every thought. Has he heard it? There was no way he hadn’t, he loved to check out every ranking song for inspiration or for another artist to add to his monthly playlist. 

Would he get angry? Sad? Laugh at your pathetic feelings? He was right in the end, when it came down to it you only shared your feelings when it was too late.

Stupid Christopher fucking Bang.

It wasn’t often you’d refer to him as Chan, you had met him when he only saw it as another name for himself that he hardly used. Back when his hair had been fluffed up curls that he couldn’t contain and his light freckles weren’t covered by BB Cream. When he didn’t belong to the world and only loved you.

After months of forcing yourself not to, you hastily search “Stray kids Bang Chan + Y/N”, Then “Stray Kids Y/N” and finally “Skz Y/N”. The results are minimal and far inbetween, mostly tweets from fans wishing for a collab and oddly enough one person making edited photos of you and them, which are so convincing you have to remind yourself you hadn’t met them.

Thoughts drift to his friends, the ones who didn’t know Chris was even seeing someone and had been for over a year. They tried to sugarcoat it, say they forgot, it’s hard to keep track when you’re training and all that. 

The sinking feeling you felt when Minho asked how long you’d been together, guessing a month at most. When you did reply, ears burning with embarrassment he coughed and muttered “Oh.’, That had stung.

Everything had seemed so perfect, until you opened your eyes and saw it for what it was.

You don’t end up sleeping much, two hours at most, Then it’s time to get ready and head to the Broadcast Studio for today’s event. All you know is it’s a show about giving advice, the reviews aren’t great but you aren’t allowed to turn anything down because fame is a double-edged sword that you can barely grasp as is.

Iris and San are already waiting for you when you get there, within minutes makeup is being patted into your skin and your outfit is laid out on the chair next to you.

“Sleep more, Y/N-ah, I had to use a double coverage concealer to hide your dark circles.” Iris said in a fretful tone.

“I try, it’s hard being famous.” You reply jokingly, flipping your hair the best you can. Iris smacks your hand away and frantically finds her hairspray.

Within twenty minutes you’re dressed and not one hair is out of place, San pulls you aside with an uncharacteristically stern face. 

“The company have specific goals for sending you here, they want you to delve into a story of heartbreak to comfort today’s victim, while keeping anonymity and remaining as vague as you can.” 

Of course, even a show about helping others is fictional.

You nod solemnly and prepare to go on air, sitting on a cushion next to a popular comedian who doesn’t bother to even look at you. A well-known Streamer is on your other side and you begin polite small talk, which seems to irritate the host.

“We’re on in 3,2….1!” A sharp click follows the director’s queue and the host bursts right into the introduction.

After you’re introduced it’s easy to tune out, you couldn’t give a shit about that stuck-up comedian and the actress to their right. Instead you think of how the fuck you’re supposed to conjure up an emotional performance with little to no time to prepare.

‘My ex-boyfriend hid me for almost two years’ no, not even worthy of a cheap gossip magazine. ‘I thought my boyfriend loved me, turns out he loved his career more’ Maybe...but you sound too needy. 

“Today’s guest is Lee Chaeun of Suwon! Tell us your story, please.” 

You turn to look at the guest who walks onto the set and sits at the head of the pillow mats. She’s clearly a young girl, her baby face is covered by face-framing layers of shiny black hair and her eyes are already glassy.

“Last year, I began dating my crush after years of admiring him from afar...Everything seemed so perfect until last week….He dumped me by text message saying he needed space and now he’s with someone new..” Chaeun bursts into tears and the host fakes a sympathetic face and passes her a box of tissues.

“Ah, you’re young...you don’t know anything yet. This is a normal phase for teenagers, men realise themselves and break girls down so they become beautiful women. It’s just a case of a little girl not wanting to grow up!” Chimes in the Comedian, who talks about his falsities as if they’re facts.

The audience erupts into laughter and the heartbroken teenager lowers her head in embarrassment. Which only makes you more enraged, Who told that guy he was funny?

“Chaeun has every right to be upset!” You exclaim, cutting through the laugher like a hot knife. “When a relationship ends when everything seems alright for one person, it's cruel. Being blindsided isn’t a joke. It hurts and she deserves closure, and to move on someday to a better person..What happened to her shouldn’t happen to anyone!”  You barely register a gentle hand on top of yours, far too surprised by the fact there are tears dripping down your face. Crying wasn’t an option, so you pull yourself together and apologise to Chaeun and the host you cannot stand.

“Y/N, You seemed personally moved by Chaeun’s story, have you experienced a painful breakup?” The host asks curiously.

“You could say that,” You begin with a wry smile. “I was with someone who lived a double life, they were completely different when they were with other people...Things ended when I was still planning for future dates...it made me realise how fake they were.”

The guests all nod and you squeeze Chaeun’s hand, she smiles at you seeming relieved that she isn’t the only one who has felt this kind of pain. 

Everything goes smoothly after that, other guests chime in and the actress that seemed snobby is openly discussing her ex vomiting all over her Valentinos. You can’t help but wonder if the company really suggested this, or if it was divine intervention (Choi San, your manager). 

You don’t feel so alone anymore, everyone is guaranteed several things, two being love and heartbreak of some kind. 

“Thanks to singer Y/N and actress Sojung, Chaeun was able to feel a little better...Thank you for joining us on ‘Help No Counsellor!’, Join us next week when…’

“Choi San, you sneaky bastard.”

He tries to act surprised but a shit-eating grin soon overtakes his acting, Iris shakes her head and zips her makeup bag closed. It isn’t long until you’re all at The Min’s enjoying red bean bread and warm tea.  “What does inept even mean? I’m assuming it’s a good thing because Wooyoung kissed me after saying it.” San mentions, his lips curving upwards at the fond memory.

“I’d have to agree with Woo, it fits you perfectly.” You reply, circling around his question while Iris tries not to choke on her food.

Fits of laughter die down when you spot a familiar face, Lee Mijoo. 

Her blonde hair flows down her back in loose curls and her soft eyes seem to enchant everyone, admittedly even you for a short time.Behind her is a slightly taller figure dressed in all black and your stomach drops.They don’t seem to notice your presence, so you decide to use this valuable time to hide behind a menu. 

San and Iris try to play along best they can, but it is quite distressing that all of this has happened so suddenly, with no prior warning. But he did bring you here, a lot. So it’s amusing to see his date ideas haven't changed. 

As he’s walking past you he pauses, and you want to shrivel into a hole and die, He’s clearly recognised you but can’t be 100% sure due to The Min’s menu covering your entire face. 

“Y/N?” 

Shit. You cannot hide from this.

Slowly taking the menu away and placing it down on the table you smile at him, maybe a little too forced but it’s the best you can do. His hair is blonde now, his curls are long gone but his smile is as genuine as ever. 

Stupid Christopher Bang and his stupid ‘I-totally-didn’t-break-your-heart’ attitude.

“Chan, nice to see you. Still obsessed with their double shots?” You humoured, he seemed grateful for that.

“Oh, absolutely...and I see you’re still not saving any bean bread for anyone else.” 

You laugh, it’s a bittersweet one at best but nevertheless it’s a laugh.

'Well it’s great to see you again, I’d love to exchange numbers if that’s alright?” 

Without thinking you nod and oblige him, much to your friend’s disappointment which is evident by their glares. Mijoo exchanges smiles with everyone, who could hate her? She was funny, kind hearted and beautiful in every aspect. 

When they finally leave to their outside seats you breathe a sigh of relief and sink into the chair.Iris strokes your hair and San grabs more snacks to go, the walk home isn’t peaceful. It’s awkward and silent, which only makes your head spin more. When you drop off Iris you know a lecture is coming, San hates doing it but you know he tells you what you need to hear, even if it hurts.

“Look, I’m happy you were able to brush off all the hurt today but earlier on you were crying about….this. Don’t give him the power to hurt you twice.”

“You’re right, thanks Sannie.” You reply, taking his arm and smiling at the warmth of his (Wooyoung’s) fuzzy coat. 

Once San leaves and you get inside, it’s a matter of minutes before you hop in the shower and get rid of all the hairspray and mascara that’s been making you itch all day. The warm water soothes away your nerves and the impending frostbite from being outside in the cold for far too long. 

Once you feel clean and somewhat scalded you step out onto warm fluffy towels (cheap warm fluffy towels with holes in them) and get situated for bed.

Just as you exit the bathroom your phone rings and you answer immediately, it’s probably Iris wanting you to play a new Among Us mod with her. 

“Iris?”

“Uh, no, Chris.” 

“Oh.” is your initial reply, why would he call you at midnight?

“Where you asleep? I’m sorry I’ll call back another ti-”

“No!” You interject, much too eagerly. “No...it’s fine. I’m not even in bed yet.”

“Oh” He sounds relieved, much the opposite of you.

“I just wanted to congratulate you...The song, it’s great. What’s it like actually singing one you wrote?”

“Great,” You admit with a smile he can't see, “It feels...genuine. I Couldn't stand the thought of giving the song away.”

“I can see why.” He replies in an unreadable tone.

“Did it make you uncomfortable? Me singing...about-”

“No, why would it?” He cuts in, he sounds slightly agitated.

“Look, Chan, I’m sorry. I should’ve texted you, well I did but you changed your number. But it’s my story too, okay? I needed to heal somehow.”

Minutes pass with no answer, as if he’s trying to think of exactly what to say without getting more irritated or to spare your feelings.

“When did I become Chan?” His voice comes out wavering,and it hurts you.

“That’s what everyone calls you now, you’re not just Chris the trainee anymore.” You reply in a gentle way, trying to ease the building tension.

“But to you, when did I stop being Chris?”

“Probably when you broke my heart,” You deadpan, before adding a ‘kidding’ and bullshit reason.

“You weren’t kidding, but you broke mine too. Don’t make me the bad guy.”

This had taken you aback, you had been in a perfectly happy relationship for almost two years and then he changed his mind, said he wasn’t happy and it wasn’t your fault. When the fuck did you break his heart?

“When exactly did that happen?” You query, “Before or after Mijoo?”

Chan lets out a dry laugh, “Don’t talk about what you don’t understand.”

“Well what does it matter? You never told me shit anyways.” You snapped.

“That’s because you wouldn’t fucking listen. Maybe to you it was all sunshine and roses but I was struggling, I changed and outgrew us. I didn’t want to but you were stuck in dreamland where we’d debut at the same time and live happily ever after. I realised it wasn’t going to happen and set you free so you wouldn’t be embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed?” You bark,”Fucking embarrassed of what exaclty? I left that shithole you call your company by choice and worked my way up. I’m not embarrassed, but you should be. You’re a fucking sellout Christopher Bang.”

Before he can reply you end the call and throw your phone at the wall, it would’ve broken only for the forty dollar case the store assistant convinced you to buy. You burst into tears just like you had that night when it all came crashing down. He must’ve loved seeing you in pain, because he keeps doing it even now.

That night, you wish for everything to go back to a time before him and the heartbreak that followed.

It’s early on a Friday when you’re called into a board meeting with the CEO, Director and San, who looks like someone stepped on his clay masterpiece. You still haven’t been told anything and as the minutes pass by you wonder if they found out about you getting drunk at Club Suran several weeks back. What if someone saw San there too? What if–

Suddenly the doors open and in walks JYP’s CEO, followed by several others and finally Chris. He looks as confused as you, but you quickly look away before he spots you. Last night was still fresh in your mind and you didn’t need anymore reminders or conversations with him.

“Dispatch has sent us several photos of you two together, spanning several years.” Your CEO announces, an Executive pulling the photos up on the screen behind her. “Including one from yesterday.”

“That was a coincidence, we broke up a long time ago.” You admit, she seems satisfied with your answer and nods, which makes you remember that damned dating ban you have.

“Usually, we’d shoot down these rumours immediately...but this could be quite beneficial to both Stray Kids and Y/N.” JYP’s CEO adds, “Stock prices have shown a rise for both of your albums, and real time searches are at an all time high.” 

“I have a girlfriend.” Chan states, arms folded. “So that’s out of the question if you’re implying we fake a relationship.”

“Look Bang Chan,” Begins one of the Advisors, “It’s all for show, we’ll plan every detail and your girlfriend will keep her mouth shut if she knows what's good for her. Frankly, our sales aren't what they used to be and you need this, if you want complete musical and artistic control.”

Chan takes a while to think, you know this is all he’s wanted. Control over everything he and the boys put out there, with no censorship or edits by anyone else. Your CEO assures you you’ll also benefit from the agreement, including your debt fully cleared and money in your bank account as soon as you sign on the dotted line.

“How long does this last?” You ask, pen in hand.

“Twelve months, then you’re free again.” 

Chan looks to you for conformation and you ignore him, signing it and standing up to leave. You only stop to sign more formalities and then you and San head back to your local coffee shop. 

“Well, you sure have a funny way of moving on.”

[choco-mark]

One Hundred Times

pairing: soulmate!jeno x soulmate!oc

genre: fluff | smut | like the tiniest bit of angst but barely

warnings: language, oral (fem. + m.), handjob, body worship, mentions of sex, super fucking innocent y/n and jeno, explicit sex, y/n showing jeno where the clit is

summary: in a world where soulmates can read each other’s thoughts, you find yours much sooner than everyone else around you; some even said it was too early, but it seemed as if you had been waiting for yours all your life.

words: 8.8k 

note: y/n and jeno’s thoughts are written in italics

part of the You Are Me series!!

23 April 

The age of ten was known as the age that was both the beginning of a child’s introduction into adulthood, but also the ending of a childhood that wasn’t long to begin with. It was the age when your soulmate mark was activated, and it was also the year that children would be newly exposed to their eternal lover. And today, today was Jeno’s tenth birthday; the birthday that would change his life forever.

But all tenth birthdays changed all children’s lives, but in most cases, they would not be able to speak to their soulmate if their tenth birthday hadn’t passed. Jeno hadn’t known what he wanted, to hear his soulmate’s name in his head immediately or an empty screech that it was described as for those who had soulmates who weren’t of age yet. It didn’t matter, of course, since it had already been decided by the heavens when he woke up that morning, bolting out of his bed with sweat covering his entire body.

Jeno looked around his room cautiously, as if expecting someone to be sitting there waiting for him to wake up on the day of his tenth birthday. But there was nothing in his head, just a blank sound masking his own thoughts as he jumped off the sheets, scrambling to the calendar. It’s my birthday, right? There was an echo of his thoughts in his mind, making him dizzy for a second. Oh my god, I can literally hear myself.

You can hear me too. He froze at the sound of a sweet giggle taking up his head, his mouth popping open for a brief moment. I was wondering how long it would take for you to turn ten. It felt like I was waiting forever. So, this meant that his soulmate was...older than him? Yeah, I’m older than you, is that a problem?

No. I just thought, um, didn’t hear you when I woke up. His excuse didn’t make much sense, at least it probably didn’t because the voice in his head let out a small laugh again, warming his insides as it echoed through his head. Jeno felt a smile graze over his face, almost involuntarily. What’s your name?

Another giggle. We can’t tell each other our names! It doesn’t work like that, didn’t your parents tell you? He shook his head, and then realized, that you probably couldn’t see him. No? Okay, I’ll tell you! Basically, when you turn ten, you can talk to your soulmate through a little head space! So there’s like, kinda a room where we can talk together, but you can still talk to yourself in your own space. We can feel each others emotions, though! And, um, I think that’s it. 

So, I can’t tell you my name? Why not? Jeno stood confusedly, staring at the date on his calendar with his eyebrows scrunched. If he just thought his name, wouldn’t you be able to hear it? There was a hum of disapproval from your side, making him perk up. But why? If I just tell you that my name is—

He tried to form the words in his head, but they never echoed the way everything else did, the thoughts only being bounced back to himself. “Lee Jeno,” he whispered, “My name is Lee Jeno.” You were right, it wasn’t working. But then...How are we supposed to find each other if we don’t know each other’s names?

Hmm, we will. That’s what my mom tells me, at least. The soulmate system doesn’t fail, you know, so...we’ll probably find each other before we turn sixteen. 

And what if we don’t?

You let a long pause in your mind, elongating it for a brief moment before taking a breath. Did he just hear you breathe? No, we’ll definitely find each other. We have to, it’s foolproof. It always works.

Okay.

6 May

You took one last step as the music ended, your teacher giving your class a nice smile before telling you that it sadly was the end of your lesson. Holding your arms above your head to catch your breath, you nodded as she went around the class to comment of their strengths and weaknesses, allowing you to calm your heart down when she came to you in the front.

“As expected from our lead dancer, Y/N, perfect formation,” she clapped her hands together, inching backwards to get a good look at everyone else. From the corner of your eye, you spotted the familiar thirteen-year-old boy with soft colored hair looking at you from the end of the line, and it made you heat up in embarrassment. Not him, anyone but him. “You all are dismissed. I’ll see you in two day’s time.”

A breath you didn’t know was inside of you was let out, allowing you to calm down a little as you loosened your ponytail. A few of your fellow dancer friends gave you a small goodbye as they grabbed their bags and walked out of the studio, but you stayed, just like you always did for an extra hour of practice. Just as you went to to grab your phone for the music, you caught the stance of the same boy at the edge of the room, watching you with a his dark bag swung over his shoulder. You gulped. Why is he still here?

Huh? You felt like you got shot, your soulmate’s voice turning loud in your head as you blinked a few times. Who? 

Erm, um, nothing. Sorry, didn’t mean for you to hear that. Don’t mind me. You were rambling in your shared mind at this point, feeling bad for the boy on the other side. I’m good. Just, um. Yeah, I’m fine. 

Jeno was one of the boys in your dance class that you knew all the girls had their eye on. It was funny, you thought, because it sounded as if they were all so disloyal to their soulmate when they went on and on about Lee Jeno’s smile and Lee Jeno’s muscles. You had to admit that Jeno was indeed a very attractive boy, that was for sure, but you couldn’t get it out of your head, the way that he would look at you when you were praised by your dance teacher. Or from the way he would watch you when you were asked to dance alone. His eyes only ever seemed to train on the way you were moving, and it always made you so self conscious to the point that you would almost mess up, or not give it your all while dancing. Jeno was capable of making someone that nervous.

But Jeno was also quiet, coming and going to class without nearly a word to anyone else. Even the other boys mentioned that he would be the one to change the fastest in the locker room, and the one that would never even spare a glance to anyone else, unless it was a flash of his smile or a polite greeting. He was so quiet that you almost believed you didn’t recognize his voice whenever he responded to the teacher, the low sound that would startle you every time. Though, it sounded awfully familiar in a way, a way that you couldn’t quite pinpoint.

“Y/N?” You whirled around at the sound of your name leaving the boy’s mouth, your eyes trailing on him as he walked closer. “Do you think you can,” he gestured around, “um, maybe help me with some of the choreo? I know you stay here for a while after class and I don’t want to intrude but if it’s not too much...” He trailed off, and his hand went through his hair as he looked down to the ground, and then back up at you.

“Uh, sure!” You could already sense him getting nervous from even saying those words, so you offered him a slight smile. “I don’t mind, it’s okay. What part do you want to go over?”

Your lesson ended up being much longer than usual, and something you had learned about Jeno that day was that he went hard on himself. He was so self destructive, in a way, always scolding himself for making mistakes even if it was a minor slip-up with his footwork. But he was also a hard-working dancer, as you had already noticed from your day-to-day classes, one that would always put his all into dancing in one way or another. He was passionate about it, more than you, that was for sure, and it was something you were sure that you could admire about him.

You went home with a soft smile on your face that evening, feeling accomplished in the fact that you had just helped someone advance on their dancing skills, and with the belief that you had just made a new friend. It was well needed, you thought, laying down on your bed and staring at the ceiling. I needed a new friend after all.

Oh? My girl made a friend today? You weren’t expecting your soulmate’s voice to come coursing through your head, knowing that he usually slept early on a school night. But you nodded to yourself, or rather, to him. Guess what? I made a friend too.

Really?

Yeah. You heard him chuckle in your mind, sending you a wave of warmth. That’s why I’m not asleep right now. I came home later than usual just—hanging out with them. I’m kinda tired now, though. Are you going to sleep yet?

You turned to the side, wrapping the comforter around your body a little tighter before reaching over and switching off the light. Hmm, yeah. It’s almost midnight. You should go to sleep to, you know. I didn’t think you’d still be awake. You heard him laugh again, his breathing slowing down as sleep heaved over him. Oh, you’re already falling asleep. Good night...

And the next day you were back in the same room, a loose shirt adorning your body as you guided Jeno’s steps and slowly advanced him through the choreography. He seemed completely out of it though, his head just shaking over and over again as he messed up repeatedly.

“Like this?” Jeno tilted his head, moving his arms up to try and imitate the same position that you were standing in. Yet, it didn’t quite work, the motion swinging him out of balance as he nearly tripped over his feet at the same time. You sighed, watching him stumble before looking over at the slight grimace on your face. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m doing something wrong, right? Ah, shit.”

You watched as he ran a hand through his hair, silencing his curses before trying again, and failing once more. He looked awfully distressed today, and he was going harder on himself than he usually did. Pursing your lips, you moved to stand in front of him. “Uh, why don’t we take a break? Ten minutes? How does that sound?”

Jeno shook his head, the sweat from his hair falling to the ground as he disregarded your words. “Can we take it from the top just once more? I think I got it this time.” He didn’t look at you, his eyes focusing on himself in the mirror with the personal judgement flowing through his mind over and over again. You could almost feel the way he was feeling, the sadness drowning you down just in the slight.

“Jeno, we’re taking a break, okay?” You said firmly, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m not teaching you anything until you sit down for at least a few minutes and drink some water. Come on, you can’t just keep forcing yourself to continue.”

“Yes, I can. I’m fine.” You hadn’t heard such a tone fall from his mouth like that before, the usual words being soft and kind. All you knew in that moment was that he most definitely was not fine, and he looked like he was about to pass out at any moment if he didn’t hydrate himself. “Can you just play the music?” His voice cracked near the end of the question, his face twisting into an unreadable expression. “Please?”

If Jeno was to say that he had a bad day, that would’ve been an understatement. Not only did his best friend completely shun him for the entirety of school today, but his parents had fought loudly that morning, just like it almost always happened. He tried to not let it get the best of him, but he couldn’t just ignore the fact that his parents were getting tired of each other, and the fights between them were getting more and more frequent. You watched with widened eyes as you saw his face turn from determination to desperation, his eyes glistening with tears.

“Can you just play the music?!” He repeated with a roar, his fists clenching involuntarily as you jumped from his sudden outburst, backing away from him a little. He was far from fine, in fact, you knew that there was something pricking at him from the way he was acting, but you didn’t say anything. Yet, you didn’t move, not wanting to let him go without at least calming down first.

Jeno knew how he looked right now, probably pathetic in the eyes of you. Fuck, I can’t cry in front of her. No, no, I can’t. Don’t do that, you’re gonna embarrass yourself. The tears came anyway, your jaw dropping from the thoughts you had just got conveyed to your brain. God...I’m such a disappointment.

This seemed like the wrong moment, but you couldn’t help but cover your mouth with your hand, your heart racing at the sight of him. There was no way that...it couldn’t be, right? No, it was definitely not the right moment, especially not when he was now on the ground, his hands planted to the wood floor with hot tears spilling down his cheeks as well. But, I have to try, right?

There was the rumor of the first touch, that the first touch between two soulmates would send a spark into both of their bodies, giving them a sign that they were—destined for one another. You knew that it wasn’t true for everyone, as some people had found their soulmate without ever having experienced such a spark. You had never felt it before, but it was obvious as you hadn’t found your lover yet, but you were about to find out whether it was true or not.

There was a chance that Jeno wasn’t your soulmate, of course, but you still let yourself crouch down to your knees, reaching out a hand to place on his shoulder. You were shaking, you realized, the nervousness taking over your body as you hesitated to put it down. Just do it, just do it. Hurry up. 

Taking a deep breath, you heard a sob come from his mouth as your hand fell to the fabric of his shirt. Just at the feeling, he choked on his sob, his head snapping up to look at you when you felt the burn go through your body. You froze, your eyes falling on the hand that was touching him. Did you feel that? Did you just feel what I felt?

Silence filled your mind, but Jeno was still staring at you, almost making you uncomfortable as you pulled your hand away. You couldn’t tell what he was feeling, and you absolutely had no clue what was going through his mind. At least, that’s what you thought. Touch me again. 

Your hand fell to his neck, the hotness of his skin cooling almost instantly to your touch. The skin to skin contact buzzed you more, a new surge going through you. Jeno let out a sigh, placing his own hand over yours. Did you feel that? Can you feel me? Am I touching you?

Y/N? You gasped at the sound of your name filling your mind for the first time in so long, the voice you had been hearing in your head for so long finally saying your name with such delicacy. Is your name Y/N?

Yes. You let yourself lean forward, wrapping your arms around him to feel him fully. It felt so right, after everything else in your life, this boy holding you against him in the same manner, now dropping tears to soak your shirt. Please don’t cry, Jeno. It hurts. But he couldn’t stop himself, his hands balling the fabric of your clothing in his hands, his grip tightening around you as he cried even harder than before. Jeno...

All the pent up emotions were being let go with the relief that Jeno had found his soulmate, but all the pain was still there. You felt yourself tense up to the same emotions being thrown over you, feeling tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as the grip around his neck tightened, the hug turning almost suffocating with it.

Please don’t cry, Lee Jeno. It makes me want to cry. Yet, your thoughts contradicted your action, tears soaking into his shirt as he tried apologizing. It didn’t come, however, the cries were almost never ending. You were crying, and it felt real for once, real tears from your true love. What a feeling.

17 December

“I could kiss you one hundred times and it would still feel like the first time,” Jeno whispered in your ear, his arms resting on your waist as you stood in front of the mirror. Today was the day of your night performance in front of the entire dance school, and you were in costume, stage makeup on your face, carefully done by yourself over the years of practice.

You still remember your first kiss, back in that dance studio two years ago, the one where you two met each other in as young teenagers. It was a day after class was over, the two of you sitting against the large mirrors, eating snacks that he had brought specifically for you. You had leaned in spontaneously to brush away a piece of his hair, but your lips met with his instead. They were soft, soft and plump, and that was one thing that never changed about him.

You smiled at his words, admiring how handsome he looked with his hair styled and his costume fitted to his body perfectly. He leaned sideways, sending a quick peck to the corner of your jaw. “Yeah, then why don’t you do it now?”

Jeno looked around the dressing room, seeing everyone scrambling to get ready and he focused back on you, holding your face gently in his hand to turn it his way. His lips met yours with a soft crash, molding his mouth against yours. It felt like bliss, to him, kissing you. You taste so sweet, princess.

You’re sweeter. You pressed a hand to his chest to prevent him from turning the innocent kiss into something much more heated, pulling away for a moment to shake your head. Not now. We have to go on stage in like—fifteen minutes.

Fifteen minutes. That was all he needed. His hand kept your face in place as he caught his lips in your again, devouring you completely without a warning. You grasped onto his arms, keeping yourself grounded when his tongue played at your lips, silently asking for entrance. Even knowing that everyone could be watching you, you let him in anyway, feeling the comfort of his touch make you crave for more.

There was a loud clearing of a throat, making you pull away from Jeno for a brief moment to see Jaemin giving the two of you the most disgusted look on the planet. Your eyes flitted next to him to see Jeno’s best friend, a girl who looked absolutely mortified at the scene as well. You flushed from the attention, turning your head away from your soulmate as he tried to attack your lips again. Jeno, come on. Your friends are here.

And? If I kiss you any longer, they’ll just leave. Jaemin isn’t Hyuck, you know, he can get embarrassed too. You raised your eyebrow at his thoughts. He wanted to embarrass his friends—with you? God, you couldn’t believe that this boy was yours sometimes. I’m offended, Y/N. You deserve another hundred kisses just for that, you traitor. You giggled, pressing a hand to his lips as he tried leaning in again. You will pay for this, princess.

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” you said quietly, your eyes pouring into his. Jaemin had sighed, taking the girl alongside him as the two of you were left alone to the corner of the dressing room once again. A smile played at his lips and eyes, making him chuckle softly at your playful tone. “You just want to kiss me again, don’t you?”

Jeno shrugged, shamelessly nodding his head. “I’ll kiss you on stage if you want me to. I think that’d be more than the show that we’re putting on. What do you think?” You smacked his arm, and his chuckling grew in volume.

Lee Jeno!

13 August

“I’ll be inside with the boys, alright?” Jeno left a peck to your forehead, leaving you alone to the ginormous pool that belonged to Chenle. The rest of the boys’ girlfriends were inside, fooling around with each other and having fun, and it made a small smile grow over your face until you realized one of them was missing.

It was Jaemin’s eighteenth birthday today, and the rest of the boys decided to throw a party for him right at Chenle’s massive mansion. All the plannings went well, except for the fact that Mark almost messed it up when he called Jaemin’s girlfriend asking whether or not she was bringing him over already. Thankfully due to his obliviousness and the way he was absolutely in love with his soulmate, the surprise went smoothly.

Renjun’s girlfriend was sitting at the edge of the pool, her feet dangling inside of the water, and she looked—not the most enthusiastic as the rest of the girls. You took the chance to walk to her side, settling down beside her as she glanced over at you with shining eyes. “Hey,” you offered her a smile, and she threw one back, only to look back down at her feet again. “Something up?”

“Y/N?” You nodded. She looked like she was in deep thought, and with a brush of her hair to the side, she faced you again, her eyebrows slightly scrunched. “How do you and Jeno do it?”

“H-Huh?”

“I mean, how do you and Jeno make it seem like—I don’t know, like you guys seem so happy with each other all the time. And I mean—you two have a really, I guess, ideal kind of relationship in a way. Just, how do you guys do it?” She was serious with her question, a genuine wonder about the two of you. 

You hadn’t known her for long, only having known that she was Renjun’s soulmate when Jeno introduced you to her. But in a way, something you had always noticed about her was the way she was—self conscious about herself and her relationship with him. Almost as if she didn’t believe she was the one for him, even though it was literally a match made in heaven.

You let your feet submerge in the cool water as well, wincing at the way it contrasted from the hot weather. “Um, well, I don’t really know.” You laughed nervously, looking from her and then up at the sky. “I mean, you know how there’s that myth, the one that says if two soulmates find each other before the age of fourteen, they’re ‘bound to a doomed relationship.’ We found each other when we were thirteen.”

The girl seemed shocked, clearly not having known this before. “Wait, really? You guys met each other before—so, before you even entered freshman year?” You nodded, giving her a sheepish smile. Everyone always gave that same surprised look whenever you told them you found your soulmate before the normal age of discovery, and you were used to it at this point. “Sorry, uh, I didn’t know that.”

“So Jeno and I have been together for the past four years, and I obviously don’t regret anything. I love him—with my whole soul, everything. We don’t really get in fights, um, unless it’s the petty ones about choreography or music or something. But, nothing serious. Oh, and we tell each other almost everything.”

Renjun’s girlfriend pursed her lips, nodding in agreement. “Er—have you guys like, tried anything? You know, I mean I don’t think everyone’s actually done it. Renjun and I haven’t even tried yet...” she trailed off, looking down at her feet again before looking back up at you. “But, uh, apparently it’s supposed to feel good. Have you guys ever tried?”

“Um, what do you mean?” You struggled to catch onto what she was talking about, your mind going blank as you tried to think about the things that soulmates could do with each other. “Tried what?”

“You don’t know?” You looked over to your right, where Mark’s girlfriend was slipping out of the water to plop beside you on the tile. “Wait—don’t tell me that you and Jeno haven’t done it yet! You guys have been dating since forever!”

“Done what?!”

“She really doesn’t know,” Renjun’s girlfriend said from your left, her jaw dropping. “Sex, Y/N! You two haven’t had sex yet?” You felt yourself becoming hot from the accusation, the thought of doing something that intimate with the boy you loved so much, sending you out of the universe. “Oh my god, you haven’t even touched yourself, have you?”

You shook your head, looking from her to the girl on your right, who seemed equally as surprised. “N-No? Not like that...”

Mark’s girlfriend scooted closer to you, taking your hands into her as she stared deep into your eyes. “Listen to me now, you, my friend, are missing out on a lot. Considering you and Jeno both seem to innocent to even have, like I don’t know, opened a book about the subject, I’m gonna tell you right now. Soulmates can feel each other’s emotions, right? And physical things as well, like pain, for example if Jeno was to break his arm, you’d feel it too. You know that, right?”

You nodded slowly, remembering the time Jeno had sprained his leg during a dance class and you had fell to the ground in pain as well. “Yeah well, just like that, you guys can feel each other’s pleasure. Do you know what I mean? If he was jerking it off, you would feel it too and vice versa. And even better, sex is ten times that feeling.” Your eyes widened. That’s not something I’ve ever thought of.

Mark’s girlfriend sighed, letting go of your hands and leaning back on her own. “I think you guys should have a talk, at least by now. And if he’s not gonna be the one initiating it, then you should! Don’t you want to go to the next level with that relationship of yours?!”

What are you thinking about, princess? You felt like your thoughts were just intruded, the words being conveyed to him because they were about him. Oh sorry, I didn’t mean to. 

No! It’s okay! I was just thinking about you, that’s all. The two girls seemed to understand why you went completely mute, sharing a glance with each other as you continued talking to him. You don’t have to apologize...

What’s on my girl’s mind? You almost responded with a giggle to his little nickname for you, the one he had used before the two of you had found each other. What? You like that, don’t you? My pretty girl...tell me, what’s on your mind?

You hummed, contemplating for a moment. I’ll tell you later. Now, can you get me some ice cream or something. I’m melting out here. 

Of course. Anything for my girl.

15 August

You were literally pacing back and forth in your room, your mind nearly bursting as you tried to keep your thoughts in your sacred little bubble. If Jeno was to hear anything you were thinking of while he was showering, you were sure that he would go into cardiac arrest right then and there. Jeno had come over for the night as he often did, taking his time to shower before the two of you would drift off into a slumber. But today, you were going to try something different.

After secretly driving yourself to the library and actually finding a book explaining soulmates, you were curious to see how you would feel if you and Jeno were to...do anything. Your only concern was that you didn’t think he’d want to, or that he wouldn’t see you in that way. It was driving you mad knowing that he was going to come out at any moment and you were planning on talking to him, though you weren’t sure if he was going to take it very well.

Jeno came in shortly after, ruffling his hair with a towel before handing it to you, silently asking you to dry it. You knew how much he liked it when you did, so you quietly did so, your mouth not forming any words no matter how much you wanted to ask him about it. He noticed your discomfort, pulling on your wrist softly to gain your attention. “What’s wrong, princess?”

You pulled the towel away from his head, sighing deeply as you tried to gain control over your overly racing heart. “Um, so,” you didn’t like the way you sounded, already cringing at the sound of your voice. He was looking up at you from the bed as if you were the most gorgeous creature on earth, but you didn’t quite feel that way. “So, I was wondering if—uh, okay, so I heard that, um...” You trailed off, already feeling yourself turn embarrassed from not even being able to form a sentence properly. “Just,” you looked back into his eyes, that were waiting hugely and you sighed. “N-Never mind.” 

Jeno was already confused, knowing that you were the kind of person to share everything and anything with him, and those words almost rarely never came out of your mouth. “It’s only me. What’s on your mind? Tell me.”

You avoided his gaze, preparing yourself mentally before finally speaking again. “So, I read in, um, a book that—soulmates can, you know, feel each other. Like, um, not just emotions and feelings or whatever, but like physical things and I was wondering if you wanted to try that.” The words came out all mushed and they almost wouldn’t have been understandable, but Jeno knew what you were saying, his expression softening as he moved a hand up to cup at your cheek.

“Hey, look at me,” you turned back to him slowly, seeing his familiar smile grazing his face beautifully. His thumb caressed your skin carefully, eyes searching yours as you could no longer look away. “Don’t be so nervous around me, okay? I love you.” You felt your heart swell from his confession, one that didn’t come often from him, and you tried to give a smile in return but couldn’t. “So what, hmm? Does my pretty girl want me to make her feel good?”

Your breath hitched as his hands went to your waist, tugging you closer to him. “Yeah? Tell me what you want me to do.” He pulled you down to attach his lips to your neck, but it was nothing soft, they sucked on the skin until you were sure it was going to bruise and you leaned your head back, your eyes fluttering shut from the feeling. “Do you want me to make you feel good?”

Jeno pulled back to look at you deeply. Are you sure you want this? Are you really, really sure? You bit your lip, nodding slowly. One hundred percent sure? I want you to say it, please. 

“I want you, Jeno,” you answered quietly, watching as he closed his eyes for a brief moment, almost as if he was trying to control himself from the way you were already making him feel. It was the bare minimum, not even, but he really thought you were going to make him a mad man before anything even happened. “I’m sure.”

He hummed, pulling you down onto the bed until your back was flat against the mattress, his body hovering over yours. “Tell me if you want me to stop, okay?” He asked sweetly, waiting for your nod of approval as he kissed you deeply again. A hand tugged at the end of your shirt, and he pulled away once again to ask with his eyes.

Bunching up the fabric, he pushed it higher until it was off past your head, laying forgotten on the floor. His hands smoothed over your skin, admiring it before stopping at your breasts, which were still carefully covered by your bra. With another look, he slid his hands underneath you, unclipping the garment and slipping it off past your arms. You were almost sure that he was drooling over your body from the way he was looking at you, and his lips started at your collarbone, peppering kisses all the way until your breasts, where he planted a kiss between them.

You let out a gasp when he gave a lick to one your nipples, his eyes focusing on you before taking it into his mouth. Just as he sucked on the skin, you already felt an unfamiliar heat growing between your legs as you let out a soft moan to his actions. After he was satisfied, he moved to the next one, wetting the skin with his mouth before lapping at your nipple. You didn’t know what to do with your hands at that moment, and he heard your thoughts, pulling them up to rest on his head.

Jeno mouthed down your torso, leaving wet kisses until he met the waistband on your shorts. Can I? You nodded almost immediately, hearing him chuckle in your mind for a bit. You’re so beautiful, Y/N. I can’t believe you’re mine. His hands tugged your shorts down, and your eyes squeezed shut from his movements. “I want you to look at me,” his hands rubbed your thighs slowly, the heat growing nearly unbearable when he moved them closer. “Look at me, princess.”

You opened your eyes again to see your soulmate’s head between your legs, prying your legs apart. There was only one piece of clothing on you now, the cotton of your panties covering your most intimate portion of your body that no one had touched like that before, not even you. He inched closer, bringing his hand to cup at your core with almost barely a touch, but you let out a strangled sound to it, satisfying him deeply.

He applied the slightest pressure to your clit, just to see your reaction and you involuntarily bucked your hips up, never having felt such a sensation before. Your body squirmed as he rubbed slowly circles over the fabric, your mouth threatening to cry out before he stopped, making you whine softly. Wait, princess, I’m taking it off. Will you let me? 

Yes. Hurry, please. He didn’t waste time lowering your panties until they were gone and you were bare to him. You couldn’t even feel self conscious anymore due to his pleasure in just seeing you like this, and he spread out your legs even further, drinking in the sight of your dripping core. A finger pressed at the same bundle of nerves once again, circling around experimentally until you were moaning out so nicely for him, and he licked his lips.

You were already so sensitive to just his touch, but when he put his mouth where his finger once was, you swore you saw stars. He didn’t even move his lips, yet your head was still thrown back, the hands that were resting on his neck now grasping onto his hair. Jeno was already feeling out of it just seeing you completely wrecked all ready, but the heat you were under was a feeling for him as well, and god, did he want to see you more. Without knowing what he was doing even a little bit, he enclosed on the same bundle of nerves, sucking slightly and then harder, so hard that you pushed him away with a cry.

“Too much, it’s too much,” you babbled, looking at his concerned face. He shook his head, lowering himself back down to your core, opting to lick a stripe down your folds instead, watching your face. The earlier sensation was too stimulating, and you were sure that you would black out if he did it again; yet deep down you wanted him to do it, to make you feel so unbearably good to the point that you were sobbing. He used his tongue instead this time, mashing his lips against your skin in a way where he was basically making out with your clit.

The faster he kissed, the faster you felt a pressure growing low in your stomach as he continued. You wanted him to keep going, but you couldn’t seem to find the words, but he didn’t need to be told. Jeno’s hands were grasping onto your thighs to keep them planted on the bed, but you were still writhing. Even now it felt like too much, but you didn’t stop him, only tugging on his hair to let him know that you were so close. So close to what, you couldn’t even dare say in your mind, but Jeno was about to give you the first orgasm in your lifetime, and you weren’t even ready for it.

It came crashing down on you slowly, and then it was fast, your mouth letting out such a loud cry of his name that you were sure you hadn’t ever screamed like that in your life before. He slowed down just to lap up the rest of your juices, moaning at the taste and your orgasm, humming as he moved back up your body, hovering over you once again. How did that feel?

G-Good. You tried calming your breaths but it was harder than it ever had been when you practiced all those dances, the thought making you internally laugh. Really good. Like, I thought I was gonna die, good. I mean, not that I was gonna die but that felt good, yes, I liked it. God...

He smiled down at you and that was when you realized that he was still wearing all of his clothes, completely unexposed to you but when you looked down, there was a nice tent that had formed in his shorts. He read your thoughts. Princess, it’s okay, you don’t have to.

“But I want to,” you ran your fingers through his hair, looking at his with huge eyes that you knew he couldn’t refuse. “Please, I want to make you feel like that.” Your voice was almost a whine, and he sighed, laying down next to you before pulling you over his body. Well this, was not what you were expecting.

You don’t have to. You shook your head, gulping before you tugged his shirt off his body, running your hands over his abs. His breath hitched when you leaned down, pressing a kiss to his lower abdomen before pulling down the fabric of his shorts. He was hard through his boxers, and you felt him groan deeply when you let your hand palm him. Fuck. Even in your mind, his voice was so hot when he cursed, making you want to hear him do it again.

Jeno had always seen you as his pretty princess: the girl of his dreams, of his past, present, and future, but never did he imagine seeing you like this before. You were completely naked, hovering over him with your breasts dangling in perfect view as you let him grind against your hand. The sight was making it so hard to control himself, feeling himself build up already.

His cock sprung out as you lowered his boxers, leaving him bare under you. You gasped at his size, looking up at him without a filter to your thoughts. “You’re so big,” you whispered, his dick looking awfully inviting. You touched the tip with your thumb, teasing the slit just for a moment to see your boyfriend let out a muffled noise. He had already gotten so hard from your past pleasure, but your comment had only increased his arousal to the point where he thought it would be unbearable.

His eyes trained on you, watching how you gave his dick the utmost attention to the point that he thought he would cum. It was so hot, and you were barely doing anything but drawing small circles to his tip, and he threw his head back at the feeling, trying not to look away from the breathtaking view. You watched his chest rise and fall, looking down at him through your eyelashes to see his already fucked out expression.

You grasped him tightly, a little too tightly maybe because he hissed, and you loosened your grip with a mumbled apology. Remembering what you had read in that book not very long ago, you let your hand pump him once, keeping the same pressure until you lowered yourself to his cock. You let your mouth suck on the tip, watching as he threw his head back in the same fashion as you did and let out a moan of your name. 

Jeno was already so close to his release, even though he was desperately trying to hold it back just for the need to feel you for a little longer, but he was already far gone when you pumped him at a faster pace. You already felt yourself getting wet once again, being straddled across his thighs, and your mouth let him go as you felt him tense up underneath you. Oh fuck, princess, you feel so good. You’re so good, god. Fuck— 

He came in three huge spurts, the milky consistency making a mess all over your hand and even spilling onto his abs. You let out a loud whimper, feeling a wave of pleasure being thrown over you as you grasped onto his thighs, crying out your soulmate’s name softly as it happened. You leaned back on his legs after you calmed down, taking in how hot he looked at that moment all because of you. His hands were still grasping the sheets tightly until he let them go with a breath, his sweat-filled hair splaying out over his eyes as he finally opened them. You hadn’t even missed the way there was a soft chant of your name through your head when he came, and his voice was a deep sound of a groan when he finally focused back on you sitting atop his thighs, looking innocent as if you hadn’t just used your mouth to make him cum. 

Looking back at your stained hand, you gave him a look while you let yourself lick at your fingers, cleaning up your skin. His taste was sweet, surprising you as you popped your fingers into your mouth, sucking it clean with your eyes still locked on his. He yanked you down beside him after you finished, the image of you licking up his cum painted into his mind for perhaps the rest of eternity.

“That was bold of you,” he muttered, scanning your eyes with his own as he saw a smile graze across your lips. “Yeah? You liked that? How’d I do?”

You moved closer, pressing a short kiss to his mouth to see his usual smile light up his face again, eyes scrunching cutely. Yeah, I liked it. You did good, like, hmm, really good. I guess a little too good since it, uh, kinda hurt a little before. His eyebrows furrowed in concern, the hand resting on your waist holding you a little tighter. “No! Not like it was bad, it felt good but like—really good. Like too good.”

Now you’re just trying to make me feel better, aren’t you? You know, the way you were looking at me sorta scared me—you looked like you were about to cry... Jeno’s hand moved to your face, brushing out a strand of hair that had fallen over your eyes. I don’t want to hurt you, ever, okay? If it hurts again, just tell me like you did earlier and I’ll stop.

Jeno...I promise, it didn’t hurt. You let out a sigh, feeling slightly frustrated that he wasn’t getting what you were trying to say. Wasn’t this supposed to be a little easier, considering the two of you were soulmates? The whole message conveying thing didn’t seemed to be working right now. Um, okay. I’ll explain. So you literally, uh, sucked on my—well, apparently that place is supposed to be really sensitive but I didn’t really know what it was all about so when I did my...research, I found out that it’s called the clitoris. Or like, the clit, I guess, that’s the shortened word for it.

Jeno seemed interested, but also confused. “Wait, can you show me?”

You stuttered on your thoughts at his words, humming softly before nodding. He sat up, leaning against the headboard watching as you shuffled in front of him. Erm—this is kinda weird. He shook his head, telling you that you didn’t have to feel self conscious and the thought made you calm down, your legs spreading out in front of him. Now, he couldn’t help but already feel a little aroused at the sight of your core but he also seemed pretty interested in what you were getting at.

The two of you had taken sex ed the year earlier at your respective schools, that was for sure, but it was mostly consisted of coincidentally, both of you, not even paying attention during the class that it just ended up with memorizing facts and spitting them out on paper for a grade. It wasn’t helpful, at least not very interesting to you at the time, but now that you were completely exposed in front of your boyfriend right now, you remembered back to what you learned. Needless to say, that soulmate book had taught you loads more.

You tried spreading yourself as best as you could, feeling a little more comfortable when you realized he was literally sitting in front of you completely bare as well. With simple touches, you explained the anatomy of your vagina, with Jeno listening promptly. Deep inside of him, he made a mental promise to himself to research the proper ways to pleasure you with this knowledge. 

“—so, sometimes when it comes to oral stimulation,” you continued, resting your position for a moment. “It’s like, uh, really strong. Like the feeling is really high to the point where it makes us both feel good...but basically, I can feel it when you cum and vice versa. It’s pretty cool, actually.” Jeno let out a gasp of realization, pointing a finger at you as he tried to search for a memory.

I remember! Donghyuck told me once that he made his girlfriend cry and everyone else was laughing while I thought it was horrible...don’t tell me he was talking about that? He moved his finger down experimentally, touching you softly, however still making you hiss. Oh my god, I probably looked like an idiot.

You let out a little giggle at his words, seeing him pout while still staring at your pussy almost in a zoned out daze. Pulling his finger away, you gave it a little tug, gaining his attention. “It’s okay, baby. At least you know now...” 

Grabbing you by the arm, he tucked the two of you back under the sheets again, leaning over quickly to switch off the lamp before cuddling you against his chest. Thanks for the little lesson there, princess. I kinda needed that. Now I can go to the library too and search for ancient books on how to make my girl cry during sex, because you seemed to be so interested about it. How does that sound? A library date for sex ed?

Shut up.

19 September

Jeno liked driving, it was almost a personality trait of his. He was good at it too, driving you around whenever you liked it, taking you here and there and everywhere. That was a knack of his, driving, since not everyone could do it so well. But he did so effortlessly, almost like it was a hobby or habit, in perfection.

It was late at night, and you were leaning in the passenger seat of your boyfriend’s car once again, taking in the air as you let you hit your face with every gust. You didn’t know where he was taking you at this time, but when he pulled into the parking lot of the once-familiar dance building, you knew it.

You were a bit confused on why he took you to the old one, the one that the two of you used to dance in all that time earlier, and just seeing the outline of the room made you nostalgic now. Jeno’s hand slipped into yours as he opened the old sliding door, dust filling your view as the lights flickered on.

After five years, the room looked exactly the same, except now sitting unused and forgotten in the building that was now using a few rooms for karate. The mirrors were still up, sending you and Jeno the reflection that had always been there for the two of you. In the outline of your body, you could still see the thirteen year old girl who had swiped up her hair into a ponytail every day just to let her passion out for dance. You glanced at where your hands were meeting, clasped for comfort as you focused on Jeno.

There was somewhere deep in your soul that remembered the dusty brown-haired boy that had watched you in awe as you took the lead, the same one that had fallen to his knees in front of you and sobbed his heart out on the very familiar day of finding he was your lover. He heard your thoughts, his lip quirking up as he gestured to the area of the room where you had first touched him, the place where you had taken a leap of faith and put your hand down on his heavy shoulder.

Silence followed throughout the room, but at the same time, it wasn’t silent. It was so loud. Yet it was loud in the most beautiful way, the only sweet sound being the constant conversation between you and your love, never ending and never tiring the either of you. Can you believe it’s been five years?

No. I can’t. He squeezed your hand, looking at you through the mirror he had watched you through for years before. I can’t believe I’ve had you for so long, princess. It’s kind of strange, right? Seeing ourselves in this mirror again?

Yeah. Jeno looked the same now, the same handsome boy with moves that he always underestimated, the same boy that had given you your first everything. It feels weird. Like...we were never gone.

He hummed, rubbing his thumb over the skin of your hand before pulling you alongside him as he walked to the front of the room, planting his feet in the same position he was all that time ago. Looking over at you, you knew what to do when you stood in front of him, seeing his eyes glowing from the bright lighting that hadn’t faded even after so long.

Because it hadn’t, the light could never fade from your vision, because Jeno was always there: now and forever. He was like the light of your soul, the one piece of you that made up who you were with every single breath you took each day. And you could never see it fade, not for as long as the two of you had each other.

You remembered what Jeno said to you, not that long ago on a dark winter night when the two of you were wondering about the future, the thoughts filling your shared mind again.

It’s a soulmate thing. There’s never a ‘till death do us part.’ Because we don’t, we don’t ever part. We’ll be together in this life, and the next, and the next one after that. It’ll go on forever, just like it’s supposed to. Got it?

Jeno smiled.

Got it.

There are only so many of us born at a time and we are thrown into the world to find each other, to find the other ones who don't think you're strange, who understand your jokes, your smile, the way you talk.

There are only so many of us born at a time and we only have so long to find each other before we die.

But we have to try.

[superbadassnatural]

The One With The Morning After

Summary: Y/N has to deal with the aftermath of a night filled with booze, sex, and questionable choices. Pairing: Dean x Reader Word count: 3,143 Warnings: mostly fluff, tiny bit of angst, a bit of smut, hangover A/N: this was written for @smol-and-grumpy​’s awesome challenge “SuperFriends Tittle Challenge”. The prompt is the title of this story of course. Hope you all enjoy it!

(x)

Few rays of sunshine struggled to get past the blinds and illuminate the room. As the warm light ghosted over your face, your eyes fluttered open. You blinked a few times before taking in your surroundings. A thin white sheet covered your body. You lifted it only to notice you were naked. You felt disgusting as if you had sweated the whole night.

Turning on your back, you noticed the guy you spent the night with was still there. He was on his side, his back to you. The sheet only covered his lower half. Fresh scratches covered his back. You didn’t have to put your tired mind through much thinking to know you were the one who caused them. As much as you wanted to see his face to at least have an idea if you had picked it right, you didn’t want to wake him and deal with the whole morning after thing. One night stands are good. You have fun and most of the time you get off. The problem was the morning after itself. Unlike most people, you thank god when you wake up and the guy has already left or when you wake up first and leave without explanation. The whole ‘it was good, I had fun’ was annoying. Every time you had to put an extra effort to not roll your eyes.

It was frustrating, to say the least when you didn’t even remember the guy’s appearance. You could only hope a glimpse of his face would come back to you. You took one last glance at him before getting up. You nearly choked when your eyes landed on the small scar on the side of his hip. There was no way in hell you wouldn’t recognize that scar. You were the one who stitched him up back then. Clothes formed a trail on the floor, you scooped them up and dressed as fast and as quiet as you could. Your heart was almost leaping out of your chest by the time you walked out of the room.

Outside of the motel, you allowed your breath to even and your heart to calm down in your chest. His car was parked only a few feet away. You ignored the shining impala and made your way back to the bunker. It wasn’t the first time you came to this particular motel so you knew the way.

It was early. Dean never wakes up before noon after a night at a bar. You had enough time to get home, shower, and take a nap before he came back. You could only hope he’d remember as much as you did. Nothing. The thought of ruining your friendship with Dean had your palms sweating. It was undeniable that you felt something for him. Those feelings were buried way too deep and throughout the years you learned how to live with them. He didn’t make it any easier on you though. Dean was constantly flirting with you. In the beginning, it was tough to be around him. Dean’s a flirt. Every now and then he’d give you his signature smirk and wink followed by a flirty comment. Although it caused a weak in your knees, you figured it was best to keep your feelings to yourself rather than risk losing him.

Arriving at the bunker, you made your way to the war room, hoping to find one of your best friends. There was no sign of Sam. You figured he’d either be on his morning run or making breakfast. It wasn’t even eight yet, so he must be home.

“Hey you,” you smiled, leaning on the fridge.

“Hey,” he greeted as he finished making his sandwich. “I didn’t expect you to be back already.”

“Yeah, I know. Just missed my bed I guess.”

“Dean’s not home yet. Did you hear from him?”

“Nope,” you were grateful he had his back to you and wouldn’t catch you lying.

“Do you want me to make you something?” He turned to you, hazel eyes widening as they roamed over your entire body. “You okay? You've been crying?”

“What? No, of course not. Why?”

“Your mascara or eyeliner, I don’t know, is a little smudged.”

“Oh,” your fingertips touched the skin under your eyes softly. You left in such a hurry that you didn’t even look in the mirror. “Guess that’s what happens when you sleep with makeup on,” you shrugged. “Alright, I’m gonna take a shower then take a nap. Trust me, I need it.”

“Okay, you do you.”

You headed straight to the shower. The need to wash off the guilt and fear of ruining your thirteen-year friendship grew stronger by the second. You could only hope those feelings would be dispelled down the drain along with the stink of alcohol and sex. The water felt good on your tired body. You didn’t take long in there though. Every cell in your body claimed to be in bed again. You needed at least two more hours of sleep to survive the rest of the day. That and being away from Dean for twenty-four hours both physically and psychologically. Mission impossible.

Your eyes fell closed the second your body hit the soft mattress. Memory foam hugged your limbs, lulling you to sleep.

The headboard banged against the wall. Your mind was in a haze of alcohol and pleasure. Dean’s groans sounded distant. His hands were all over your body. His thrusts were erratic as he searched for the final push. You arched against him, breasts pressed to his firm chest. He whispered soft praises against your skin as a wave of pleasure consumed you.

Your eyes shot open as you sat in bed abruptly. Beads of sweat covered your forehead. Pulling the covers off, you got up, making a beeline to the bathroom. You washed your face in an attempt to get rid of the images of last night. It was in vain. The mirror only reflected how screwed you were. As if the images and the sounds running wild in your mind weren’t enough, your cleavage was covered in hickeys. You closed your eyes and suddenly you were back in that cheap motel room.

Dean’s lips kissed and sucked every patch of skin they could. Your hand shot to his head, fingers tugging at his hair. He groaned against the curve of your neck. His lips descended to your collarbone. Dean marked your skin as his hand squeezed your breast softly. He drunkenly mumbled “mine” against you.

Shaking the memory away, you turned off the tap and headed to your room. It was early which meant you had high chances of not seeing Dean. You just needed to eat and take a pill for the pounding headache. Then you could come back and hide in your room for the rest of the day. Pulling on a hoodie, you made your way to the kitchen.

“You’re awake,” Sam greeted. “Thought you were gonna sleep for the rest of the morning.”

“Yeah, me too,” you sighed, turning on the coffee maker before grabbing some bacon in the fridge for you to cook. “I wanted to, but I had a bad dream.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Not really,” you shrugged.

“I found us a case,” he announced as you sat in front of him with a plate and a mug in your hands. “Omaha, Nebraska. I think it’s a spirit. A quick salt and burn will do it.”

“Good. When do we leave?” you asked, munching the crispy bacon.

“Tomorrow?”

“Okay.”

“And, uh, do you mind if it’s just you and Dean on this one? Eileen and I have a date tomorrow and uh-“

“Yeah, s-sure. I don’t mind going alone with Dean. I mean… Why would I mind? It’s not like we haven’t been on hunts just the two of us.”

“Y/N? Is everything okay?”

“Sure,” you tried to keep your voice as normal as you could, but failed miserably. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “You’re the one acting weird.”

“Okay,” you sighed. “I need to tell you something, but you can’t tell anyone. Last night I didn’t come home because I was with Dean. After you left the bar, we had a few more drinks. A lot more. And we slept together.”

“Finally,” he breathed out and you gasped at his reaction. “I just don’t understand why you guys went to a motel instead of coming home.”

“The motel was closer and we were kinda in a hurry.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” you said as you finished your breakfast.

“Why didn’t he come home with you?”

“I panicked when I saw him sleeping next to me. I practically ran out of the room. I think he won’t remember a thing. At least I hope he doesn’t.”

“Why? You’ve known each other for thirteen years. You have feelings for each other for at least ten. I’m surprised it took this long for something to happen.”

“You don’t understand, Sam,” you shook your head. “I can’t ruin my friendship with him. I can’t risk that.”

“Of course you can. You’re just afraid.”

“Afraid of what?” Dean asked as he walked into the room. You nearly gasped. He shouldn’t be back already.

Dean was sporting a hickey on the right side of his neck. You felt your cheeks heat up at the sight of it.

“I’m afraid of spiders and I can’t kill them,” you said fast before Sam could say anything.

Dean only hummed, opening the fridge and grabbing a pot with overdue food. He put some in his mouth but spat most of it, grimacing. A chuckle left your lips at the scene.

“What you got?” he mumbled, turning on the coffee machine.

“Salt and burn. Omaha, Nebraska. Should be easy for you and Y/N.”

“You not tagging along?”

“Nah, got a date with Eileen,” Sam smiled.

“You’re finally getting some,” the older Winchester teased. “Y/N and I can cover it. We are a great team, right sweetheart?”

He gave you a wink. You wondered if he remembered anything of your activities the previous night.

“Right,” you clicked your tongue.

Dean grabbed his coffee and sat beside you. He stank of alcohol and sex. He should’ve gone straight to the shower but he didn’t. He was still in the same clothes as last night for crying out loud.

“Dude, you smell terrible,” Sam grimaced.

“That, Sammy, is the smell of a man who had a crazy night of hot sex. You should try it sometime.”

Fuck, he remembers, you cursed.

“You’re disgusting.”

“No, I’m not. It’s a shame I had what was probably the best night of my life and I don’t remember shit. Not even her face. She left without a note. She could at least have left her phone number somewhere. But she did leave this bad boy here,” he pointed to the purple mark in his neck.

You could only hope neither of them would notice your flaming cheeks. He was so close. You were afraid he’d take one look at your face and all the memories would come back to him. You were afraid he’d still be able to smell his scent ingrained in your skin.

“I do remember some things though. Hmmm, some really good things,” Dean nearly moaned as he closed his eyes and bit his lower lip. Sam quickly glanced at you, hazel eyes wide before staring back at his brother. “Whoever she was she surely knew what she was doing to me. Her body was trapped under mine as if she belonged there. Her hands all over my body, exploring it. Oh, and her skin felt so good under my touch. That I remember damn well.”

You fought hard to repress a moan. The words rolled out his tongue in a sensual song. Your thighs clenched unwittingly. Though you were as much aroused as you were embarrassed. He was saying all that in front of his brother after all. Sam didn’t want to know anything about Dean’s activities, but the look in his eyes told you he was having fun seeing you suffer.

“And she smelled good too. So fucking good. I swear that if I close my eyes, I can feel her touch. I can even hear her soft moans. What wouldn’t I give just to know her name.”

“Maybe you should try asking the bartender if he remembers her face or even her name,” Sam suggested and you kicked his foot under the table. “I’m sure he might remember something.”

“She felt absolutely perfect,” Dean completely ignored his brother. “The way her fingers tugged at my hair, making it hurt just a little. Then her legs wrapped around me and… fuck,” he growled. “That was mind-blowing. She clenched around me so tight-”

“Dude, too much information. You should keep that to yourself,” Sam interrupted his brother while you prayed neither of them had listened to the small groan that left your lips.

“All I’m saying is she was too fucking hot. I wished she could’ve had the decency of leaving me her number,” he sighed. “If you guys think this hickey is the only thing she left for me, you’re wrong. She might not have left a note, but she did leave some real sexy marks all over me. Hmm, I love it when they mark me up. So damn hot.”

“Dude-“

“And if I concentrate hard enough I can still taste her in my tongue,” Dean smirked.

“That’s enough, man. I’m gonna have nightmares for the rest of my life.”

Dean chuckled at his brother’s reaction and took one last gulp of his now lukewarm coffee.

“Excuse me, but I, uh, I’m gonna take a nap. I’m tired,” you hurriedly stood from your seat. “I’ll catch with you guys later.”

As you disappeared in the hall, Dean’s grin got even wider as he shook his head. Sam scoffed, realization dawned on him.

“You remember, don’t you?” Sam asked his brother, a smile on his lips.

“Every single detail,” Dean nodded with a smirk.

“Dude, you aren’t worth a penny.”

“What can I say? I love seeing her squirm.”

“You should go after her.”

“I am,” Dean said. “I’m just gonna give her some time to pull herself together.”

Sam nodded. Silence fell between the brothers. Each of them lost in their own world. Dean tried to come up with a way to approach you without making it weird. Sam tried to erase the images his brother put in his mind. The younger Winchester was sure he threw up in his mouth a little. Dean had given him a share of traumas concerning sex when they were teenagers and now this?

Dean got up from his seat and before he headed to your bedroom, he placed his mug on the dishwasher. He was about to leave the kitchen but stopped and glanced at his brother.

“You were the only one who didn’t score last night, Samuel,” he teased and Sam rolled his eyes.

Three soft knocks on the door startled you, dragging you out of your trance. Mumbling a “c’mon in”, you straightened yourself at the edge of the bed.

“Hey,” Dean smiled, peeking his head through the door.

“Hi,” you smiled, a thumping beat of your heart in your chest.

Dean made his way to your bed and sat just a few inches from you. His thigh brushing against yours.

“How’re you feeling?” He glanced at you but your eyes were fixated on the closed door.

“Really tired. You?”

“Exhausted. Don’t know if I should take a shower or a nap.”

“I think you need both,” you smiled as a chuckle reverberated in his throat.

“Yeah, you’re right,” he clicked his tongue, green eyes falling in his hands as he rubbed them together. “You know, I must confess that you did rock my world last night.”

“You remember?” You stared at him wide eyed only to meet a crooked grin on his lips. “Of course you do,” groaning, you buried your face in your hands.

“How could I ever forget?”

“We had a lot of drinks. A whole lot.”

“Yeah, guess I just needed to get my ass drunk to finally go after something I wanted.”

“Don’t do this, Dean,” you pleaded, staring into his forest green eyes.

“I thought last night meant something, you know? I thought it would change things between us for the best. I couldn’t believe I was the only one feeling something. Not with the way we look at each other and the constant flirting and the way we hold each other. Now imagine my disappointment when I woke up and you weren’t there.”

“Dean, I-“

“I thought you were gonna be there. I thought we were gonna talk and figure things out between us, but you didn’t even give me a chance. It felt as if you regretted it, as if what happened between us was a mistake,” his voice was low, barely upon a whisper.

“No, Dean, I don’t regret it,” you shook your head. “It wasn’t a mistake but we shouldn’t have done it.”

“Why? Why shouldn't we have done it? Give me one good reason why.”

“Because we are friends and I don’t want to ruin that.”

“We were never friends, Y/N. I feel something for you from day one. And I know you feel something for me too. Now you either-“

You captured his plump lips in yours. His eyes widened and it took him a second before kissing you back. His hand cupped your face, thumb caressing your cheek. The gentle press of his lips almost made your heart leap out of your chest. He pulled away a little too soon for your liking. Dean placed a small peck to your lips before resting his forehead against yours.

“Now I either what?” You giggled, opening your eyes and finding his still closed.

“I don’t know,” Dean chuckled. “Guess this changes things, right?”

“Mmhmm,” your hands were on each side of his neck as you pecked his lips.

“Good.”

“I hate to tell you but you need a shower.”

“Yeah, I do,” he said sheepishly, his hands were on your waist as he moved you to straddle his lips. “But I think you should come with me. You know, that whole save water, shower together thing.”

“Hmmm, I’ve kinda already showered.”

“Do it again. I promise you won’t regret it,” he smirked.

“I thought you said you hated shower sex. You said it was too complicated.”

“I don’t hate it. It is complicated though, but I’m sure we can work things out,” he grinned, standing up with you in his arms as you wrapped your legs around his waist. “‘Sides, you ought to see all the damage you caused last night.”

“You’re gonna be the death of me, Winchester.”

I’d love to know what you think of this one!! Consider sharing your thoughts with me via reply, reblog or ask!

Note that if your name is crossed, tumblr wouldn’t let me tag you :(

Forevers: @hobby27​ @thewinchesterandreidwhore

Dean Sweethearts: @maya-craziness​ @akshi8278​ @herfalsegod​ @witch-of-letters​ @weepingwillowphoenix​ @deanmonandnegansbitch​

[oh-three]

More incorrect Guard quotes:

Part 1

.

Rakesh: “You really put aside everything and came all this way for me? How did you even get here so fast?” Vori: “Several traffic violations.” Brakan: “Three counts of resisting arrest.” Linaleh: “Roughly thirteen cans of energy drinks.” Tindri: “Also, that’s not our car.”

Tindri: “What did you guys get in your yearbook?” Vori: “'Prettiest Smile'” Brakan: “'Nicest Personality'” Loktof: "’Most likely to start a bar fight'” Linaleh: “'Least likely to start a bar fight, but most likely to win one'”

Jurr: “Good morning.” Vori: “Good morning.” Brakan: “Good morning.” Linaleh: “You all sound like robots, try spicing it up a bit.” Rakesh: “MORNING MOTHERFUCKERS.”

Brakan: “Are we really going to let Vori keep Loktof?” Linaleh: “We kept Rakesh.”

Tindri, trying to convince Rakesh to join the group: “You know... I thought it'd be good to have someone come along who's really... strong!” Vori: “And loud!” Brakan: “And grumpy!” Linaleh: “And oblivious to reality!” Rakesh:

Rakesh: “So apparently the 'bad vibes' I’ve been feeling are actually severe psychological distress.”

Jurr: “Have you seen a person named 'Vori' around here?” Brakan: “Ugh, yes. They made a horrible mess of the blood fountain.” Rakesh: “It looks fine to me?” Brakan: “IT USED TO BE WATER!!!”

Jurr: “Apparently we’re getting someone new in the group.” Linaleh: “Are we stealing them?” Rakesh: “New or used?” Jurr: “Wonderful responses, both of you.”

Jurr: “I think we're missing something.” Linaleh: “Teamwork?” Tindri: “Cohesion?” Rakesh: “A general sense of what we’re doing?”

Tindri, setting down a card: “Ace of spades.” Vori, pulling out an Uno card: “+4.” Brakan, pulling out a Pokémon card: “Jolteon, I choose you!” Rakesh, trembling: “What are we playing?”

Linaleh: “Yo, is Rakesh sleeping or dead?” Loktof: “Hopefully dead, I hated his guts.” Tindri: “Yeah, so did I.” Rakesh: “Okay, first of all, fuck you-”

Tindri: “Is stabbing someone immoral?” Linaleh: “Not if they consent to it.” Rakesh: “Depends who you’re stabbing.” Brakan: “YES?!?”

Rakesh: “What doesn't kill me should run, because now I'm fucking pissed.”

Jurr: “Isn’t it weird that we pay money to see other people?” Vori: “Plane tickets?” Brakan: “Concert tickets?” Rakesh: “Prostitution?” Jurr, holding their broken frames: “Glasses.”

Loktof: screams Linaleh: screams louder to establish dominance Brakan: “Should we do something?” Rakesh: “No, I want to see who wins.”

Rakesh: “Someone will die.” Vori: “Of fun!”

Rakesh: “I slept for almost 12 hours but I might still be tired so lets go for 12 more just incase.” Linaleh: “Rak, that's a coma.” Rakesh: “Sounds festive.”

Rakesh: walking in to a room “Sorry I’m late... I was... doing things.” *Sounds of running footsteps progressively getting louder* Loktof: out of breath “HE PUSHED ME DOWN THE FUCKIN’ STAIRS.”

Rakesh: “Am I going too far?” Tindri: “No, no, no. You went too far about seven hours ago. Now you're going to prison.”

Rakesh: “Where are you going?” Linaleh: “To get ice cream or commit a felony, I’ll decide on the way there.”

Rakesh: “Today is a day of running through hurdles.” Brakan: “Aren’t you supposed to jump OVER hurdles?” Rakesh: “Whatever. Fear is only something to be afraid of if you let it scare you.”

Rakesh: “With great power comes great need to take a nap. Wake me up later.”

Rakesh: “Brakan, can I talk to you for a second?” Brakan: “Yeah, what’s up? Lemme guess. You and Vori are having problems and you want me to teach you how to kiss?” Rakesh: “What? No, stop that. I know how to kiss. I’ve read books.”

Rakesh: “Please bring home PURIFIED water with NO minerals added for taste.” Vori: “We got spring water.” Rakesh: “NO.” Tindri: "With EXTRA minerals.” Vori: "It's like licking a stalagmite.” Rakesh: “DON'T COME HOME.” Tindri: “Mmmmm cave water.”

Linaleh, driving Vori and Rakesh: “So how was your day?” Vori: “We almost got surprise adopted!” Linaleh: “What?” Rakesh: “We almost got kidnapped.” Linaleh: “Oh, okay.” Linaleh: slams on the breaks “WAIT WHAT?!”

Rakesh: “Not trying to brag or anything, but I can wake up without an alarm clock now simply due to my crippling and overwhelming anxiety, so...”

Rakesh: “I know you snuck out last night, Vori.” Brakan: “Play dumb!” Vori: “Who's Vori?” Brakan: “NOT THAT DUMB!!!”

Brakan: “You know those things will kill you, right?” Loktof, pouring another glass of whiskey: “That’s the point.” Rakesh, smoking a cigarette: “We’re trying to speed up the process.” Vori: nods while eating raw cookie dough

Cop: “You’re receiving a ticket for having three people on one motorcycle.” Rakesh: “Shit.” Brakan: “Wait, three?” Cop: “Yeah?” Vori: “OH MY GOD LOKTOF FELL OFF!!!”

Rakesh: “Self care is actually getting into fights with randoms in dark alleys.” Vori: “No, self care is stuff like taking a bubble bath, or putting on a lot of makeup if you like it, or taking a nice warm nap!” Loktof: “Self care is the burning heat when rage washes over you!! Self care is when you feel the bones crack under your powerful fists!! Self care is the fear in your enemies’ eyes!!!” Linaleh: “Lmao self care is taking your birthday cake just so I can eat the frosting.” Rakesh: “If you touch my birthday cake I’ll make you eat your hands.”

*Jurr’s helping Vori out after they get injured, while the others are watching* Rakesh: “How does Vori look?” Loktof: “A little better than you, actually.”

Rakesh: “Fool me once, I’m gonna kill you.”

Rakesh: “How did none of you hear what I just said?” Tindri: “I’ve been zoned out for the past two and a half hours.” Vori: “I got distracted about halfway through.” Loktof: “Ignoring you was a conscious decision.”

Rakesh: “I just ended a four year relationship.” Vori: “Oh, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” Rakesh: “Hm? Oh yeah, I’m fine. It wasn’t my relationship.” *Tindri and Linaleh fighting from across the room*

Rakesh: “Tonight, one of you will betray us.” Brakan: “Is it me, Rakesh?” Rakesh: “No, it’s not you.” Vori: “Is it me, Rakesh?” Rakesh: “It’s not you either.” Loktof: “Is it me, Rakesh?” Rakesh: Rakesh, mockingly: “Is IT mE Rakesh?”

Rakesh: “Can I be frank with you guys?” Vori: “Sure, but I don’t see how changing your name is gonna help.” Brakan: “Can I still be Brakan?” Tindri: “Shh, let Frank speak.”

Rakesh: “Some of you may die, but that’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.”

Rakesh: “Change is inedible.” Vori: “Don't you mean inevitable?” Rakesh, spitting out coins: “No, I did not.”

Tindri: “Linaleh and I are having a baby.” Vori: “That's gre-” Tindri, slamming adoption papers on the table: “It's you, sign here.”

Rakesh, negotiating with Loktof: “We have Vori. Give us ten thousand dollars and she will be returned to you unharmed.” Vori: “Whoa, whoa, wait, you think I’m only worth ten thousand dollars?” Rakesh: Vori: “MAKE IT ONE MILLION–” Rakesh: “VORI, STOP.”

Brakan: “HELP! I TOLD VORI I’D COOK DINNER TONIGHT BUT I CAN’T COOK!” Rakesh, pouring milk directly into the cereal bag: “And you thought I could help?”

Rakesh: “'Person of interest' is almost too flattering.” Rakesh: “Like, if the police were to pound on my door and go, 'A man has been murdered in your building and you are a person of interest,' I'd be like, 'Moi? Oh, do go on.'”

Rakesh: “When someone points at your black clothes and asks whose funeral it is, having a look around the room and saying 'Haven’t decided yet' is typically a good response.”

.

Source: https://incorrectquotesgenerator.com/

Part Three: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/oh-three/689560364964265984?source=share

[tuanhood]

rumor

pairing: kim yugyeom x reader

genre: smut, enemies to lovers au (kind of)

warnings: 18+, public oral sex (female receiving), cursing

word count: 5k+

summary: the bane of your existence, kim yugyeom who has been bothering you consistently for the past 6 months comes to find you in the library, because well... he heard something.

a/n: keeping it going with the smut i GUESS. my russian mother would literally die if she knew i was doing this instead of writing my dissertation. :) this is barely edited but go easy on me OK. 

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

Here you were. Another Thursday night in the library, endlessly highlighting the printed-out text in front of you. Your eyes shifted towards the other portion of the table you were sat at. It was filled with papers by students from the course you were TAing for and its placement in front of you was another overwhelming reminder of the work you had to accomplish before the weekend. A thought occurred to you that maybe it was worth it to take a break before you really got into grading, but as you glanced at your phone for the first in what felt like hours, you realized there was no time for a break if you wanted to finish everything on time. 

It wasn’t always like this, you used to have fun, but as time passed and you went on in your collegiate career, there was more time for work and less time for play. You wanted to say a big fuck you to your friend Mark and his “work hard, play hard” motto, because who the hell could do both equally and not ruin their life? 

Just as you were about to text Mark and ask him for 500 words on how his life mantra could be applicable to literally anyone, you heard heavy footsteps coming from somewhere on the floor of the library you occupied and it was almost as if your comfortable atmosphere shifted. As the footsteps grew closer, your body tensed up in preparation for the interruption you felt that you were about to endure. 

“Shove it Yugyeom,” you said without looking up at the tall boy. Kim Yugyeom had bothered you so much in the past 6 months that you practically had a sixth sense for whenever he was within distance. 

“Dude, why are you so mean to me?” 

Sighing, you pinched the bridge of your nose in frustration, “how many times do I have to tell you that just because our moms are friends, doesn’t mean we are.”

He pulled a chair from the table and flipped it with the back facing you, plopping down, his arms folded on the chair’s back. “Okay but the reason I’m here is actually really important.” 

Knowing Yugyeom and judging on his insistent tone, you knew it wasn’t actually going to be important. The two of you had known each other most of your lives because of your respective mother’s being lifelong friends. You had always wondered what it must have been like for them, having such a strong bond of friendship that they would make it a pact to have children at the same time and force them into being friends. Unfortunately for them neither of those things really happened – your mother became pregnant with you and it wasn’t until two years later that Yugyeom’s mother followed. However, despite the small age gap, they still tried to manufacture a friendship between the two of you. By the time you were thirteen, they gave up. 

For months Yugyeom had been finding you on campus and was constantly bothering you with things that he deemed to be paramount, but instead were things such as “what bedding do you think I should get?” or “hey are you going to your mom’s birthday party? Should we carpool?” Obviously, you would be going to your own mother’s party, so why did he have to ask you? All of his questions, comments or concerns, could easily be discussed over text, but for some reason he had to come find you in person. Every. Single. Time. 

At first you blamed it on his age and innocence. He was two years younger than you and his common appearance in your life with things that were “important,” probably had to do with his adjustment to university life. You were the only person he knew, so it was a given that he would come to you with questions or in need of advice. But after 6 months and the large friend group Yugyeom had grown on campus – you knew that had nothing do with it. 

Losing your place in your notes, you groaned and looked up at him, realizing as long as he was in your presence you wouldn’t be able to get any work done, “what is it Yugyeom? What could be so important that you had to come bother me yet again.” 

You noticed Yugyeom cower back a bit at your annoyed tone, clearly striking some kind of nerve within him and it almost made you feel regretful on how you’ve treated him lately. It was certainly much worse than you had been with him in your childhood. 

He clicked his tongue as if signaling that he meant business, “well… I came to ask about a rumor.” 

The order of business that brought Yugyeom into your midst today immediately made you let out a snort from your mouth. He still didn’t understand what “important” meant, even after all this time. You especially didn’t pay any mind to what was or wasn’t going on with Yugyeom’s little friends. Rolling your eyes, you picked up your forgotten highlighter and put it back on the page, you predicted that this visit couldn’t last much longer. “I really don’t care about what’s going on with lower classmen.” 

“It’s not about anyone in my year… It’s about you.” 

You paused, dropping the tool in your hand, once again forgotten, wondering if you had misheard him. Campus was full of hundreds – probably thousands of students more interesting than you. Nothing you’d ever done could be warranted as interesting enough to be circulated throughout campus whether real or not. “Excuse me?” 

“I heard a rumor about you.” And a rumor that was widespread enough that it could somehow make it to Yugyeom? You were certain that he had to be mistaken. 

His eyes looked around the room. You noticed they wandered to the sheets of paper in front of you, your hands and the shelves of books surrounding the table. He licked his lips before speaking to gain confidence before he continued on, “I want to know if it’s true.” 

Usually conversations with Yugyeom contained a lot of back and forth. There was never this much air that left room for thoughtful pauses or awkward silence. It had always been him asking random things or making comments that led to you snapping at him. This time you weren’t really sure what to say. Being so perplexed by the encounter and why he was concerned about a rumor regarding you, left you unsure of how to respond. 

“It’s about you and Park Jinyoung. I want to know if it’s true,” Yugyeom bit his bottom lip so hard, you thought he would draw blood. 

Blankly, you blinked at him, wondering why anyone would be fixated about you and Jinyoung, “first I kind of have to know what the rumor about the two of us is.” 

“Ugh I knew it,” Yugyeom narrowed his eyes at you, and it’s perhaps the first time you’d seen him show any kind of negative emotion. Even after all of your countless ignoring and bitter words towards him in the past, he would always maintain the same bright smile and puppy dog look in his eyes. It was something you actually admired about him. 

“Knew what? I didn’t say anything! I’m asking you what you heard. What the rumor is!” You whisper shouted, in an effort to remind yourself that you were in the library after all. 

“If it wasn’t true you would have just denied it!” Yugyeom insisted. 

Now it was your turn to be angry, through clenched teeth you asked him, “what the fuck is your problem?” 

He stood up briskly and the chair shook from his sudden stance, “you fucking Park Jinyoung, that’s my problem.” You widened your eyes at him, especially since you had hadn’t really ever heard Yugyeom curse, “what?” 

“People are saying you guys slept together.” 

His words caused you to freeze up for a moment, but you felt a need to play it off, to not show your hand. “Yugyeom… Jinyoung and I TA for the same intro Lit class. That’s it. People like to create drama… especially if it’s about their superiors.” The way you defended yourself made the hair on the back of your neck stand up. Ultimately, you had no reason to explain anything to this guy who wasn’t even classified as an acquaintance to you. Kim Yugyeom had no real place in your life. “And why does it matter to you? I can sleep with whoever I want… Not that it’s any of your business or anyone else’s.” 

For some reason you found yourself unable to look up at him. It felt different then the times you simply avoided his gaze as a method of ignoring him in the hopes he would leave. This time you felt just nauseous. First you were being defensive with him and now you felt too nervous to look at him? What was wrong with you? “So, it’s true then, huh?” 

At his words, you sighed, lifting your eyes up slowly to finally look at him again. For a moment, the thought entered your mind to lie and you had to shake the delusion out of your head. Why lie to him? You had nothing to hide, nothing to be ashamed about… and yet why did it cross your mind to be dishonest with Yugyeom, as if to shield him from it? Before you could regretfully change your mind, you responded, “yes, I slept with Jinyoung, but it was literally forever ago. We’re just friends. I don’t understand why it’s even coming up now.” 

It surprised you when you noticed his hands had clenched into fists at his side and you tried to conjure up something in your brain that could explain why he cared about this so much. Your heart pained a little from his aggression and you wondered if you were going to start wondering why you care so much about this. 

“Why do you care?” You asked, rolling your eyes to put on an act of nonchalance. 

“It’s embarrassing!” 

“Why the hell is it embarrassing?” 

His fists finally unclenched and he threw them down in annoyance at your question, as if you were supposed to be able to read his mind. He answered you as if his reasoning was the most obvious thing in the world, “my friends keep teasing me about it!” You couldn’t help but notice the way he whined at the end of his sentence, like a small child being annoyed about finishing their food. 

“Yugyeom… I don’t think I’m following. Why does who I do or don’t sleep with embarrassing for you?” 

“Because…” he took a deep breath in as if contemplating whether he should go on and there was a long pause before he continued, “because it’s embarrassing that this is going around about someone I like.” 

Shock washed over the features on your face. This was it? This was the reason why he had been acting so ridiculous? You certainly weren’t expecting that. “You have feelings for Jinyoung? I-I’m sorry Yugyeom, but I swear it’s in the past… and if it makes you feel any better it wasn’t even that good of-” He cut you off briskly not wanting to hear where you had been going with the thought.

“No, I don’t like Jinyoung.” He rolled his eyes out of frustration at your lack of understanding. 

“Then I don’t know what you’re talk-” this time you cut yourself off when your brain finally caught up to the rest of you. If he didn’t like Jinyoung... that meant he likes the other person in the rumor… and that other person in the rumor was in fact you. Which meant that Yugyeom must like… 

“Me? You like me?” Your voice got higher, a nervous habit that continued to grow whenever you were in a stressful situation. A situation you couldn’t easily see the conclusion of. 

Judging on Yugyeom’s gaze, one could say that the conversation didn’t faze him – that he was confident even, but as you glanced down, you were met with the fidgeting and shuffling of his feet. “Yeah. I do, so what?” 

After all this time and after everything you had said or done to him, he still liked you? 

You looked back up to his face and saw the hard and cold exterior he tried to put up between the two of you. He was attempting to make it seem like he didn’t care. That putting his feelings for you out in the open and holding his heart out in front of you was no big deal. You knew from knowing Yugyeom from all these years that this was no simple feat for him. You knew he was probably shaking inside, nervous and afraid of the rejection that he had expected to come from you. He had put on an act, because he thought that’s what you wanted and because he didn’t want to show you his true feelings when the hurt that he knew was coming finally came. 

You studied his face for a moment, his features and glimpsed into his eyes that you knew would hold how he really felt. 

Yugyeom felt the silence between the two of you get heavier and heavier with every moment that passed. He felt uncomfortable and he just wanted you to tell him what he knew he was probably going to hear from you. “I bet I’m ten times better than Park Jinyoung,” Yugyeom mumbled quietly to himself, clearly not meaning for you to hear it, but hear it you did. 

His words shocked you and you felt a nervous flip in your stomach, but the good kind. For some reason you couldn’t help but think back to Mark’s stupid motto as you looked Yugyeom up and down, checking him out. Before you could process what, you were doing, you began to gather all of your things on the table without a word to Yugyeom. When you were finally done you saw the panic in his face as he wondered if you were just going to leave him without a word. Instead you surprised him, placing your backpack in one hand and you grabbed his hand with the other, “follow me.” 

He didn’t move and you almost fell back against him at his pull, “where are we going?” 

“You’ll see come on,” you rolled your eyes at him and tugged him forward once again towards the stairwell of the library. Both of you climbed the stairs in silence, and you found yourself grateful that he followed you. It was difficult for you to understand what it was about the situation that had you more nervous – that he had come with you or that you were doing this at all. 

When you finally reached the fifth floor you led him through various stacks of books and multiple rows of shelves until you were both in the back corner of the floor. You stopped in between two shelves and he glanced around the books surrounding you, “why are we in medieval literature?” he asked.

“Because no one ever comes up here.” 

He blinked quickly, not understanding your reasoning for bringing him up multiple flights of stairs to be amongst more dusty books. 

“And there are no security cameras up here,” you continued, hoping that something would click for him. If it took him much longer to figure out what you were trying to communicate, you were afraid you might lose your confidence in doing this. You tapped your foot lightly against the ground, “so are you going to show me?” 

“Show you what?” He asked completely oblivious. At this point, he was just grateful that you hadn’t kicked his ass after he had confessed to you. He had to be honest with himself, he hadn’t come to find you expecting to tell you about his feelings for you. He thought they had been clear from the beginning, but after the third or fourth time you had reacted negatively to him appearing in your life during these past 6 months, he figured that you would never see it without him explicitly telling you. And judging on how much you seemed to hate him – he had come to the conclusion that he would never tell you. But after hearing about you and Park Jinyoung from his friend Bambam, he couldn’t stop himself from marching to the one place he knew you would be on Thursday night – the library. 

Yugyeom had always pictured your reaction if he was to tell you about his feelings for you and it always ended with him having a bloody nose, a new bruise or a pain in his foot after you stomped down on it in anger or disgust. The worst part of this situation was that so far you hadn’t done any of these things and for once he didn’t know what to expect when it came to you, somehow that scared him more than being flat out rejected. Wait… maybe you were bringing him up to the isolated section of the library to do your damage and hit him? 

“Jesus fucking Christ Yugyeo-” You cut yourself short when you noticed your hands had involuntarily thrusted towards him, clenching as if you were about to wring his neck and the way your tone shifted to frustration. Exhaling, you relaxed your hands and put them down, rubbing them against your thighs to calm yourself down. You weren’t trying to be your normal self towards Yugyeom, you were trying something… different. Much different. 

It seemed to you that the only way you’d be able to get Yugyeom to well… get it was spelling it out for him. 

“You said you bet you were ten times better than Jinyoung... so show me.”

Nothing leaves Yugyeom’s mouth in response and he stared at you blankly. Had you read this wrong? Were you embarrassing yourself? At his lack of words, you felt your confidence chip away piece by piece and your face grew hot. 

Then everything seemed to fall into place for Yugyeom as his mind begins to compute the words leaving your soft pink lips that he’s wanted to kiss for so long. He noticed the way that your eyes are no longer fixated on him, and instead begin to look over the place nervously, pretending to find the books around the two of you more interesting. 

Due to the lack of response from Yugyeom, you’re surprised when you he takes a step closer towards you and you feel his hot breath near you just as your eyes became glued to a text about women’s literature in the Middle Ages. 

You looked to his brown eyes which stared at you so deeply you felt as though you’re about to suffocate. Although Yugyeom’s always been much taller than you, you’ve always somehow felt bigger than him – older, wiser and more mature. But for the first time ever, under his hypnotic gaze you felt innocent, small and like all you wanted was for him to take care of you. 

As he took another step forward, you took one back until you’re pressed against the bookshelf, unable to take back your decision, but you could feel that deep inside of you that you didn’t want to. Both his hands went to either side above you on the shelf and he looked down at you, a new lustfulness in his eyes that wasn’t there before. “Is this okay?” 

Nodding your head, you bit your lip to stop the smile that dared to spread across your face and Yugyeom caught it immediately. He brought his right hand down to your hair and brushed some of the strands out of your face softly, “you know… you don’t have to pretend to be this cold, mean person all the time… If you want to feel something, you should just… feel it.” At his final words his hand moved to a permanent position on your cheek as he leaned down to connect your lips together. At first you remained frozen, but as his left-hand slides from the bookshelf to land comfortably at your waist as if it was always meant to be there, you melted into the kiss. Your lips parted and his tongue slipped into your waiting mouth softly, without rush or urgency and somehow that gentleness alone made you feel like all that existed was that softness and the mixing of your breaths. 

The slow, sensual pace that you savored soon began to pick up as Yugyeom deepened the kiss, pushing himself closer to you on the shelf. Your hands that had remained mostly stagnant and at your sides soon began to drift up to run through his hair as if they had a mind on their own. When you first heard him let out a small moan from your tugging on his locks, you felt a fire ignite inside of you that told you that you wanted to hear more. With every tug, Yugyeom’s fingers dug into your hips and soon he let out a sigh of content as his hands moved to rest on your ass. Your lips worked seamlessly together as if it was the missing puzzle piece you never knew you needed. 

“Let me show you something else I can do better than Park Jinyoung,” Yugyeom said through a raspy breath, against your lips. His hands squeezed your ass before they moved around to the button on your jeans to undo them. It feels as though he works in slow motion as he pulled down the zipper and moved his hand inside, slipping them over your panties. His lips still on you and his hand in a place where you never thought you would need him; your breath grew heavier and heavier. 

Your knees buckled as Yugyeom’s fingers suddenly brushed your clit through the thin cloth and he grinned into the kiss as he wrapped his arms around your waist to hold you up. You tried to focus on the feeling of Yugyeom’s fingers rubbing your through your underwear, but soon he withdraws them. You whimpered at the loss of his fingers against you and he gave you one last soft peck before he disconnected his mouth from yours as well. You missed the contact, wanting to make your lips even more swollen than they probably already were. 

Yugyeom chuckled at your needy reaction and he caressed your cheek in a reassuring manner, “don’t worry it’ll be worth it.” 

You grew confused, wondering what his next move would be, but as he crouches down onto his knees in front of you, pulling your jeans and underwear down with him it begins to dawn on you. You felt yourself grow more wet at the thought. 

“I need to taste you,” he practically whined, “let me clean up the mess I made between your legs.” If Yugyeom had said anything remotely close to that in the past, you know you would have smacked him across the face, but instead you felt yourself involuntarily moan, turned on by his words. 

Still leant up against the bookshelf, you spread your legs apart, which was proven difficult with the jeans and underwear around your ankles, but Yugyeom grabbed them in an effort to help you. When you were comfortable and well situated, he settled himself between your parted thighs and grew closer. 

First all you felt was his hot breath on your clit and he softly blew to tease you, as if paying you back for all the countless you shrugged him off. When you let out a whimper that sounded a little too desperate, even for your ears, he decided his short-lived teasing was better off short. He took one last look into your eyes before he leaned in without hesitation. His tongue first gave a slow lap as if savoring your taste, and he let out a groan that made you feel more wet than you already were. Soon he began to pick up the pace and he used the way your hips moved against him and the little sighs coming from your mouth to feel what it was that you like and don’t like. When he sealed his mouth around your clit in a soft suck, your hands instinctually went back to his hair to bring him even closer to you. 

“How do you taste so good,” he mumbled mostly to himself, followed by a noisy kiss and delving into you further. 

A sudden and continuous swirl of his tongue against your clit caused you to let out a loud moan that you couldn’t hold back even with all of the strength in your body. With his lips still attached to your clit and continuing his ministrations, he tapped his fingers on your thighs in an effort to remind you to be quiet. You both may have been in a secluded part of the library, but you were still in the library. 

It was when you really looked down at Yugyeom that you felt as though you were going to combust. For some reason to see the younger boy that you had completely written off for most of your life, and especially the last 6 months, with his mouth on your clit with a look of pure satisfaction on his face made you feel closer to your high. 

His sudden harsh sucking as if he was a man eating his last meal, caused you to lift your hips off against the book shelf and into his face further. 

“Yugyeom…” You moaned out with eyes squeezing themselves shut. Hearing his name fall from your lips in bliss – something he had always wanted and dreamed about – edged him to go even harder and faster, wanting nothing more to see you fall apart before him. 

When he slipped two fingers inside of you, pumping them quickly, with his lips still attached to your core, you began to feel dizzy just at the pleasure. He pulled his mouth away for a moment to watch his fingers sink in and out you, pleased to look up and see how overcome you were with the way he was making you feel. You let out another cry when his fingers curled in you, finding your g-spot with ease. When he reattached himself to your clit and his fingers found that spot in you once again, it all became too much and you felt yourself closer to your climax. You tried to push his face away from you, trying to let him know that you were close. 

“Cum on my face. I want it, I want it all,” he said muffled against your core at your effort to move him away from you. 

At his words and the continual, brutal pace of his tongue and fingers, you felt your hips buck into Yugyeom’s face and yourself clench around his fingers, orgasm washing over you hard. You attempted to keep your moans in, but the feeling you get through out your entire body is too much to contain as you let out a load cry from your release. One of your hands left Yugyeom’s hair to aggressively grip the book shelf behind you, causing a book to fall from the shelf and hit part of Yugyeom’s head and his back on the way down. 

“F-Fuck Yugyeom I’m sor-” He shut you up as he continued to lap at your core, letting you ride out your orgasm as if he was in his own world where a book didn’t just fall on him. 

After a few moments in your own blissed out state and deep breaths with your head against the book shelf, you looked to see Yugyeom getting up off of his knees. His mouth and jaw glistened from you and if he minded how wet your release was, he didn’t show any sign of it. On his way up to stand before you, he lifted your underwear and jeans up your legs. 

He smiled smugly, “not bad for a kid, huh?” 

You shyly looked away from him, feeling like the kid. 

“Yeah whatever, Kim Yugyeom,” You said rolling your eyes, and he catches the smile that was written across your face. When your eyes met again, he stared at you so deeply with so much fondness that you felt yourself grow weak for the second time in the last few minutes. 

Bringing your hand up to gently rest on his cheek, you pulled him in for a kiss, wanting to show him the same pleasure he gave you. He let out a loud groan when your hands reached his jeans in an attempt to unbutton them. 

“Um… hello?” 

You both froze at the voice and broke apart to look at each other in panic.

“Shit,” you whispered to him. 

Yugyeom widened his eyes as if asking you what to do, “don’t look at me!” 

“Is uh… someone there? Or… two someones?” The unknown voice called out into the stacks. The sound of the voice made you feel sick. You didn’t know how long they were there or how much they had heard and especially because you were 90% sure you knew the voice. 

When Yugyeom looked at you again with fear in his eyes, you realized the roles had been reversed once again and you were back to being the older, wiser one out of the two of you. This time however, his look to you for guidance didn’t annoy you as it had in the past. Instead, you felt your stomach flip and it go straight to your core. 

Your eyes wandered to the floor, where you see the piece of literature that fell and hit Yugyeom. Reaching down to grab it, you motioned for Yugyeom to crouch down with you, “okay, on the count of three, you’ll grab my backpack and I’m going to throw this the opposite way. They’ll probably hear it and go look where the noise came from. That’s when we’ll run towards the exit.” 

“Why do I have to carry your backpack?” Yugyeom whined. 

Rolling your eyes, you answered him, “because a gentleman always carries a lady’s things.” “You just want to be the one who throws the book.” 

You shrugged, pretending like he didn’t have you figured out already, “now come on,” both standing back up you nodded at him to signal the beginning of your countdown. 

“One…” you whispered, looking back at Yugyeom who licked his lips in anticipation, “two…” 

You paused hearing footsteps, “three!” you scream whispered at him as you threw the book in the opposite direction, in one of the book stacks, praying you don’t get seen. At the end of the countdown, Yugyeom grabbed your backpack and your free hand, both of you running towards the exit. 

You both practically stumbled down the stairs of the library, unable to contain your laughs as soon as you’re free and on the front steps outside. 

When finally caught your breath from the running and laughter, it dawned on you the events that had just taken place and what you actually just did in the library. “Holy shit… I can’t believe we actually did that. That was kinda fucked up wasn’t it? That we did that in there?”

“You said no one goes into the Medieval Lit section!” Yugyeom complained as soon as he’s caught his breath. 

You bit your lip and nervously looked at him, “Well for the most part no one really does! There’s only one person I know of that does…” 

“Who?” 

“Park Jinyoung.” 

He let out a snort, “I can’t believe you.” 

You shoved Yugyeom lightly, “It’s not like I knew he would show up!” At your words he pulled you towards him and close enough until his mouth brushed your ear, “I bet you wanted him to catch us. You dirty girl.” 

With widened eyes and once again turned on by none other than Kim Yugyeom you moved away from him gently and take his hand in yours, “come on.” 

“Where are we going?” He asked for the second time of the night.

“My place. I have something I want to show you,” You answered him, attempting to pull him forward again. “Oh and what’s that?” He had a smug smile on his face, clearly wanting to torture you. 

“Kim Yugyeom, I swear to God,” you wondered if he was really going to do this to you, “you better come with me so we can finish what we started or I’m starting a rumor about you.” 

He pulled your arm until you were back against him, your body flush with his front and you felt his hands go to your ass, “nah I know you wouldn’t do that.”

You pushed your hips against him and he let out a soft groan at the contact against him, his hardness being neglected this entire time, “try me.” 

He smirked at you, “fine… let’s go before I fuck you on the steps of the library. Then there’d be a rumor about both of us.” 

“If that happened that wouldn’t be a rumor. That would just be fact,” you explained to him, grabbing his hand again. 

“So that’s a yes?” 

You rolled your eyes at him and smiled. Kim Yugyeom was doing things to you and making you feel things that you couldn’t deny it any longer, “come on Yugyeom.” 

“Yes ma’am.”

[greenninjagal-blog]

Deja vu pt4

Hey guys! Sorry for the long wait! Who’s ready for 19 pages of Remus angst? If you’re new around [Here] is the first part, and [Here] is the previous chapter for those who want a refresher!

(To that one person who asked if Remus’s vision would get any clearer: I am so sorry.)

Summary: Remus has been able to see the future since he was eight years old. He thinks that maybe his mother would have loved him a bit more if he hadn’t. (aka, Remus calls home.)

Words: 7879

TW: attempted suicide, blood, death, bad parenting

Read on Ao3 || My General Writing Masterlist

By the time he’s twenty one and four months, Remus is no stranger to cross country traveling. He’s been all over the country, all over the back roads, the main roads, the highways and the interstates. He’s had paper maps from greasy gas stations stuffed in his go-bag since he was eighteen, and keeps souvenirs of his travels in the form of pins and buttons he’s clipped on the shoulder strap. 

He had made it a habit to never travel with a plan. He had chosen directions on a whim, following signs when he felt the need to sleep somewhere, and picked up cars from dealerships when he had been too lazy to use his casino-breaking powers to get the cash to pay for it legally. 

Travelling is something Remus has always been familiar with. The freeing feeling of pressing his foot to the floor and blowing through endless cornfields, of burning more gas than strictly necessary, of getting himself lost on backroads without cell service-- He loves driving with the windows down and the long distances. During the billions of times that he had slept in whatever car he was using, he had enjoyed climbing on the hood and staring up at the stars until sleep dragged him away again. 

Travelling with Dee, however, is something else entirely.

At first it had been different just because there were two of them: the presence of another person made him feel the need to talk to fill the silence, made him actually have to answer the “where are we going” question, made him unsure of if what he was doing was the right thing to do.

(Not the morally right thing-- no that he knew the answer of. He meant the right thing as in the thing that Dee wanted him to do. He imagined in those first few weeks he acted a lot like a pet dog, always checking back to Dee to see that he was doing good, and wagging his metaphorical tail whenever the Shapeshifter gave him that delicious validation.)

Travelling with Dee almost means the death of sleeping in the car they were using. The Shapeshifter believes him when he says that they aren’t gonna be attacked in the night or the police aren’t going to come knocking on their windows, but Dee, as much as he tries to pretend he’s new to riches and money, is a fucking elitist. 

“Why sleep in the backseat when there is a hotel with a bed and breakfast right there?” He used to ask, sometimes still asks, never needs to ask anymore. “Why act like a ruffian without a home when I can live like a king?”

And, well, Remus had looked into his eyes for too long and gotten lost in the depths of them. Dee was pretty, you see? And Remus’s stubbornness was a learned trick that Dee knew how to circumnavigate. 

Travelling with Dee means hotels with beds and fake names in a log book. It means showers with mini bottles of shampoo and crisp covers freshly cleaned and watching the stars from the balconies while Dee smelled his money (again). It means complimentary breakfasts that aren’t super great, but they’re something that Remus hadn’t had in a while and sharing a room with another person who didn’t trust him not to run off with all their money, counting the near silent inhales and exhales, and trying not to think about stupid things like “family vacations” or “Just share the bed, Roman, its one night!”

It means no more stealing cars, because Dee rations out and puts aside money in the most atrocious order-- something that he won’t describe to Remus beyond “you’re cute, but not that cute” no matter how many times Remus asks, or when he asks. Somehow he always has the money for a new car and food and a hotel room and anything else they saw and wanted for whatever reason. 

(“Not that one,” Remus had said, grabbing Dee’s arm before he could even look in the direction of the car in the lot. And Dee blinked but didn’t ask any questions. He didn’t pick out any other silver sedans and Remus managed to make it all the way to the bathroom before vomiting his guts up. Funny, isn’t it? That he can still see blood on a bumper and hear the screams of ambulance sirens thirteen fucking years later?)

Some things are the same, though.

Remus takes note of them as he drives calmly through the evening, like he used to in the four years where he had between running away from everything he’d known and running into Dee’s arms. The air still feels nice with the windows down, his eyes still burn when the opposite traffic forgets to turn off their high beams, the radio is still soft and soothing and plays along to his heartbeat. Dee’s still curled up in the passenger side seat, wearing a fresh pastel peach button up tucked into black dress pants and dress shoes bought straight from the rack. 

He’s still cute like this, vulnerable, with scales on display and his seatbelt imprinting a line on his opposite cheek. There’s a duffel bag of stolen money at his feet, all counted and tagged in his pocket notebook that he never lets Remus flip through. In the backseat are two more duffel bags with just Remus’s atrocious half of the money and another couple of suitcases that contain their material possessions.

Something stirs in Remus’s gut at the sound of Dee’s soft snores. He really is asleep, really does trust Remus not to drive them into a guard rail or off a cliff or into another car. He really trusts that Remus hasn’t been hiding a switchblade in his sleeve, just waiting for the right moment to plunge it into Dee’s throat before making an abstract art masterpiece out of his blood. He really trusts Remus not to park somewhere on the shoulder and take all the money they have between them and disappear in the night without a trace.

He trusts Remus.

And he doesn’t have a clue how much that means. 

Well, maybe he’s guessed a little. After all, Remus still gets that surprised look on his face when Dee actually listens to him, still finds himself rolling that purple coin from the Basilisk Casino that he’s kept, still gets a little shaky when he tells certain futures because this is it, this is gonna be the time where Dee says he’s stupid and crazy and dumb and he’s not gonna listen--

Trust was a hard thing to come by after Remus turned eight. How can you trust the crybaby that starts sobbing every time someone gets a little scratch? How can you trust the psycho kid who needs medication to go to school? How can you trust Roman’s Weirdo Brother when he says he can see the future like some sideshow circus attraction?

But Dee trusts him enough to keep travelling with him, enough to keep robbing banks with him, enough to let down his glamour and show his real self while he’s sleeping.

It's all well and good and fine.

Remus wishes he trusted himself the way Dee trusts him.

The music playing is still something that Dee had picked out hours before, classical and Remus doesn’t hate it necessarily, but he did turn it down so slow that the engine is louder than those stupid violins. Remus has an appreciation for people who find the screeching strings pleasant rather than just annoying, he swears. But the rumbling of the engine, the bump of every uneven bit of road, the slow winding turns is a familiar comforting melody.

Home, Remus knows, is more of the road than any building he’s ever been in. It’s more of the feeling of Dee’s hand in his over the console, more of the smell of pine tree air fresheners mixed with new car, than any concrete solid place he’s ever been.

Which is silly, maybe. Remus thinks if he squeezes his eyes closed really hard he can still picture the layout of the house he and Roman lived in. (Not “home”, not “the place he grew up in” and he definitely didn’t grow up in there-- because it wasn’t until he was seventeen and sleeping in gas station bathrooms in two hour spurts that he learned how the world really was.)

His mother really tried, Remus thinks. She really tried to be a good person, a good mother, a good role model. She made sure they cleaned their rooms and taught them how to do the laundry. She made sure he brushed his teeth and was fed and healthy and smil--

Listen when he--

Helped him take his med--

She tried, okay. Remus thinks that if he had been a normal child he might have grown up happy. He thinks that if she had had any other son to twin with Roman she would have been a fantastic Mom. He thinks that if he hadn’t gotten his power at eight fucking years old he would have been able to articulate what the fuck was going on and they might have had a chance.

Then he wonders what the hell they would have had “a chance” at. 

And then he gets angry about himself even thinking about it and---

---drives his car directly into the guardrail. Killing himself instantly with the force of the side collision and the air bad while Dee gasps for life he desperately was clinging too and the car that had been behind them for three exits screeches to a stop a dozen yards ahead of them and with passengers scrambling from their pickup truck screaming for help---

---drives his car directly into the guardrail. Killing himself instantly with the force of the side collision and the air bad while Dee gasps for life he desperately was clinging too and the car that had been behind them for three exits screeches to a stop a dozen yards ahead of them and with passengers scrambling from their pickup truck screaming for help---

---drives his car directly----

 And Remus keeps driving on the quiet road, switching lanes so he’s in the middle lane rather than the side one.

Its not a good night.

Well in all honestly it hasn’t been a good day either. They had spent most of it driving and Remus hadn’t meant to be quiet, but his thoughts had been so loud he forgot that not everyone could hear them. They felt like screams, like a blow horn directly into his ear drums, like his brain was being torn apart with each and every fire of a neuron. 

Thinking hurt. He hated to do it. 

Dee must have picked up on it, must have taken note of his change in attitude since that morning when he had grabbed the car keys off the dresser and hoisted their bags into the car. He had asked once, Remus thought, maybe. It would have been out of character for him not to ask what Remus was doing with the keys, but if he had asked he had only done it one time.

And Remus hadn’t answered it and Dee hadn’t asked again.

He also hadn’t asked where they were going. Remus thinks that was blessing, a mercy, a silent kindness that he was too selfish to even say thank you for. He didn’t know where he was driving to, just that he had blown through a full tank and a half and somewhere over ten hours of driving and that they had crossed timezones again.

And the concept of timezones had made him angry enough to slam his foot to the floor and nearly run a blue minivan off the road entirely.

He switches hands he’s steering with, flexing and stretching his digits to the rhythm of his heartbeat.

There’s four hours now. 

And Remus knows this because even if he hadn’t graduated highschool he knew how to read a clock. Which was what he had been doing all day: watching the speedometer and watching the clock and watching his blood pressure rise with every mile he drove.

There’s four hours between them now. Which means nine o’clock for him, which means the dim sky, which means the peaks of the faint stars through the grey cloudy sky, the closed mom-and-pop shops and the dwindling number of other cars-- which means that everything around him currently is not the same thing for someone who is four hours behind them.

Dee is asleep, shifting tiredly, when Remus, grinds his teeth together so hard and violently and angrily.

His skin feels wrong, too tight, too small. It feels like someone else and he’s only borrowing it. It twists around his lungs, constricting around him like a python and stealing every breath from his chest and getting smaller with every inhale. 

His legs burn with a restless energy and his eyes hurt from driving for so long and he’s hungry.

The radio fuzzes as he drives, as they reach the end of the station's signal range, as the violins finally die and leaves them with just static. The noise is grating in a way that Remus can’t quite place, something more annoying than the screeching of his own thoughts that won’t shut up. He reaches blindly for the power button, trying not to take his eyes off the road because he doesn’t want to plow them into the back end of the SUV they’ve been trailing behind for the better part of fifty miles. 

The radio goes off. 

Remus’s thoughts do not. 

The cloudy sky makes it darker than it actually is, making him turn on his headlights and make him growl at the lane reflectors he comes across every so often. The words on the signs might as well be written in Greek because Remus doesn’t bother reading them at all.

Mostly.

He tries not to. 

But there’s one that spells out “RESTSTOP” and it gouges its phantom fingers in Remus’s brain, refusing to leave him alone after he sees it. He drives and he tells himself it's because they haven’t eaten all day, because Dee probably needs to use the restroom, because he needs a stretch. Dee hasn’t complained at all, you know? Remus owes him a little bit of a stop. Maybe they can look for a fancy hotel with a penthouse edition and get himself drunk on the minibar delights.

That’s all.

It hasn’t nothing to do with the four hour time gap.

Dee doesn’t wake even when he pulls into a well lit parking spot. There’s a handful of other vehicles in the lot: a deep green hatchback with two bikes strapped to the top, a jeep with no doors and a lot of mud, a group of sixish motorcycles and the owners of them standing nearby talking quietly. He counts at least seven eighteen wheelers resting for the hour all with a collection of name brands and graffiti on the backs. 

 Remus puts their own car in park and sits back, taking it all in. 

He’s no stranger to travelling, hasn’t been for a long time. At twenty one years and four months old he’s no longer scared of the dark and certainly not scared of going to a public restroom. The signs clearly mark eating areas, restrooms, the dark, creepy, not-at-all well lit path into the woods for those who need to stretch and want to be murdered by psycho crazy forest clowns. There’s vending machines that take credit cards for sodas and packaged foods and Remus even spots one selling cheap portable phone chargers.

There’s a payphone booth.

Three actually.

None of them are in use, currently.

Remus looks back at the clock in their car-- its a quarter past nine-- and wishes that he couldn’t do math so well in his head. Maybe if he hadn’t been able to count he would have been able to take the stupid urge by is scrawny neck and throw it out the window while he drove right on by. Maybe if he hadn’t been able to keep track of days so well he would have been able to ignore the date. Maybe if he hadn’t been so great at counting he could have been better at something else, anything else, something normal.

She had tried, hadn’t she? 

So Remus should have been thankful, grateful, happy at least about that, right? It was his fault that he hadn’t been able to figure out that his visions were telling the future until a year later, until the doctors told him it was all in his head, until his own mother had decided he was making it up. She had listened to him those first few times, listened and reassured him, and held him close when he couldn’t breathe from the crippling fear that Roman was going to die. She had weathered each of eight-year-old Remus’s breakdowns with the patience of a saint.

And he still hadn’t been able to be that perfect son for her.

“Take your meds, Remus,” She had still told him when he was sixteen and had stopped crying when he watched her cross the parking lot without looking. “Take your meds and you’ll get better.” She had said even though that wasn’t what the meds did for people who actually took them. The meds hadn’t been the glue to piece him-- or anyone-- back together. They just reminded people of how their pieces fit without scratching and breaking and shattering even more.

And Remus hadn’t even needed them back then, because his problem hadn’t been like anyone else's. 

It hadn’t been delusions and hallucinations in his head. It hadn’t been him going crazy, it hadn’t been him losing himself. 

She had tried though. To be a good mother. To love him and all his….quirks.

“I don’t need you!” Roman had said. Very loudly, very openly, very angrily. And Remus thinks about that day a lot, often, all the goddamn time. Because they had been arguing all the way up the stairs, had been fighting verbally and their mother, their mom, Mom, had been just below them in the kitchen making dinner-- or maybe it had been a dessert, baking? Or just messing around in the kitchen. She had been there.

And they had gotten in trouble for arguing much quieter before.

Remus thinks about that day. He thinks about the vision of Roman dying by his own hand, of the blood and the gore and then fluttering pulse and the concept of a soul leaving the body. He thinks about how his parents would have come running the moment they heard Roman scream in pain.

He thinks. 

Maybe he thinks too much. 

And maybe one day he’d get the courage to ask himself the big looming question: Had she loved him? Or had she loved the concept of him?

Today wasn’t, hasn’t been, isn’t that day.

It’s nine thirty, here, at this rest stop somewhere in Oregon, where Remus is clawing his fingers on his thighs and letting his unevenly chewed nails catch on the holes in his fishnets. Its nine thirty here on the day where Remus is twenty one and four months old and staring at a payphone like it was about to ring all by itself. Its nine thirty one and Remus is thinking too much, too loudly, not enough.

It must be around five thirty for her. Right in the middle of dinner. Or after. Maybe she’s doing the dishes under scalding water that boils her hands right off. Maybe the dinner was poisoned and she’s clawing at her throat right now. Maybe she went out for the evening and got hit by a car when crossing the street.

Remus knows he could check. He doesn’t.

Because his skin is already itching and his breath is too hot and he wants to cry but he’s too old to be crying over things like this, just like his mom has said a thousand times over. 

He wonders if she would believe him if he told her how many times she had cried over Roman, how many times she had frozen at the sight of her precious baby boy going still and silent, how many times she fell to the ground and clutched at his body screaming her sobs like there was a chance any god out there would hear her anguish and give her son back. 

Like she had only one to love and cherish.

She had tried.

Remus wants to laugh so badly it hurts. The urge itself rips through his body, shredding his organs with a razorblade and filling his lungs with fluids followed and squirming its way up his throat inch by inch with a determination Remus hasn’t seen in himself since that gas station four years ago where he saw himself jump in front of an eighteen wheeler and felt his insides go splat! for the first time.

Remus wants to laugh, because she had tried, and it hadn’t been enough and Remus still---

He still---

Remus pulls the keys out of the ignition and throws them in the cupholder next to the sleeping Dee. He exchanges it for his wallet, which had seen far better days and been handled far nicer, but that’s beside the point. His driver’s license is overdue but nothing short of a nuclear bomb will get him back to the state he had once lived in-- he skips over it and the various rechargeable cards he had picked up over the years (Starbucks, Seven-Eleven, a Techron Advantage Card he got for fun and never actually used because Dee always paid for gas) and goes straight for the cash.

They’re all large bills. He takes a fifty.

Dee murmurs softly as he unbuckles his seat belt and flies into a wide blown panic when Remus opens the door. Quicker than Remus thought was possible for a guy to move, he springs over the dividing console and grabs Remus’s arm with-- OW FUCK DEE -- claws.

Remus yanks back on instinct, throwing himself against the already open door and tumbles into the empty parking spot next to them. His arm howls with pain, with an agony, with a cacophony that drowns out all his other thoughts for the moment. 

The blood is red. 

Remus is twenty one and four months old and his body wracks with such a vehement hatred for the color it makes the rest of his blood, the blood in his veins, the blood in his body, his blood boil. Its red, and he hates red, has hated red, will forever hate red.

Because red was the color of Roman’s favorite jacket when they were eight, the color of Roman’s shoes that he left out on the stairs too many times, the color of Roman’s blood too.

Red had been the color staining the bumper of a silver sedan, the color of a broken snow globe hitting the carpet, the color of Remus’s insides on the freeway, and the underside of an eighteen wheeler, and the bottom of the motel bathroom tub. 

“Remus!” Dee yells from inside the car, morphing, changing, panicking in a way that is not like him at all. He clambers into the driver's seat looking too pale for a guy whose skin tone could be any color he wanted it to be. “I’m sor-- I didn’t know we ha--- Oh my god I’m sorry!” 

He grabs all the napkins they have squirreled away in the crevices of the car, then the half empty tissue pack from the last time Remus had decided to check to see if the line in McDonalds was going to be long, then a scarf Dee had bought before he remembered that it was warm enough to cook eggs on the sidewalk in most of the places they went to. He spills out of the car even less gracefully than Remus had, bubbling up apologies like his mouth was a fountain. There’s an emotion wafting off him, something that taints the air and makes the hair on Remus’s neck stand on edge.

“It’s okay,” Remus whispers.

“You’re not okay!” Dee frantically responds, turning a stripe of his hair blonde and completely missing the part where Remus did not say he himself was okay.

Dee’s fingers feel like bugbites up and down his arm, like cigarette ends being jammed into his flesh, like he was the cake and Dee was placing enough candles in him to make up for every birthday his mother had missed celebrating.

“Its okay,” Remus says, tugging his arm away before Dee can turn him into a house fire that burns down the whole block.

“Remus--”

Remus stands up. “I need to make a phone call.”

Remus doesn’t need to make a phone call. He probably shouldn’t make a phone call. 

“Remus!” Dee says standing up too. He’s taller this week, today, now, than he’s been before. He’s got an inch on Remus, and he uses that inch to look down at him and breathe like every inhale might be his last. There’s blood on his hands from trying to mop up where Dee had clawed him. Remus can feel the warmth of his blood trailing down his fingers even now. 

“What the hell is up with you right now!” He demands in a way that makes Remus’s stomach churn, that makes his knees weak and his throat feel all lumpy in all the wrong places. 

He should be mad. Dee should be furious at him for ignoring him all day, for driving them through a handful of states, for not pausing for bathroom breaks or any type of food, for not waking him when he stopped at the rest stop. He should be so angry he can’t see straight, so enraged that he stood up and grabbed the keys and drive the fuck away from here. He should be mad.

So why does he sound so scared? 

“Is this about the Mall?” Dee asks, “I can do better, Remus, please! I’m sorry!”

He’s babbling like a brook, about things in the mall that Remus barely remembered because it was a day and a half ago and three, four, five states gone. He’s talking about the Mall the same way that eight-year-old Roman had been apologizing for name calling, while Remus was three sheets in the wind during a tornado on his own thoughts.

“No,” Remus says, which is about as effective as shoving his finger in a hole in a dam.

The parking lot lights make Dee look like he’s standing in a spotlight on stage. Remus hates the sight, hates the feeling that they’re putting on a production for someone else's entertainment, hates that he should know his lines by now and because he doesn’t he's ruining everything around him.

Dee moves like a clockwork mannequin with rusted gears. Remus thinks he can hear each individual gear screech as his back straightens and his weight shifts back and Dee looks more like Roman than he’d ever know.

“N--n--” Dee repeats, “No?”

As if he didn’t know what the word meant.

“Like….no I can’t do better?”

-- “Like, No Get Back in the Fucking Car, Dee!” Remus explodes.---

--“Like No, Leave me alone for five seconds!” Remus erupts.---

--”Like No, Its not your fault I’m a fucking mess!” Remus chokes.---

--- “Like No, Its not your fault. I’m sorry. Please don’t leave me.”--

-- “Like No, I’m making bad decisions and I’m sorry and I don’t know what to do and I know that you don’t really love me the way you think you do because no one ever loves me that way. Like No, this is a future that I’m not going to choose but I wish I had because keeping this all in my chest hurts like a little bitch, Dee. It hurts so bad. Like no. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m going to have such a nose bleed from this one, and because you’re you, you’ll know that I’ve been bullshitting my way through this for a good while. My power’s broken, Dee. Don’t you see? And once I tell you what's going to be left for you to stay?.”---

“Like No,” Remus says, defeated. “I don’t even remember what happened at the Mall.”

Dee stares at him with stolen sapphire eyes, with an emotion he can’t place, with wordless questions Remus doesn’t want to answer.

He doesn’t know what time it is.

A drip of his blood leaks down his lip and lands on the asphalt at his feet. That’s okay.

He breathes in the dry air, feeling it scratch down his throat and butcher his lungs with each inhale. “I...need to make this phone call.”

“Why?” Dee pleads, and Remus thinks that if even Dee can tell it will end badly, he should know better than to go through with it. 

But Remus has been thinking too much lately, about too many things. He’s been trapped up in his own head, and the last people he tried to let help him gave up on him.

And he still can’t give up on them.

“It’s her birthday,” Remus says with a smile that borders on deranged, “And she tried, you know?”

He doesn’t know. Remus can tell by the look on Dee’s face. But that’s okay. They made a pact after all, after that first night, that they wouldn’t get personal, that discussions of feelings were off the table. And Dee had said in a future that hadn’t happened that Remus was an investment that will pay out one day. It doesn’t matter that he doesn’t know.

“Remus,” Dee says, controlling the stage like he was born to do it. “What will she say?”

Remus shrugs and turns away because he’s never been able to make it past intermission of any production he’s watched. The fifty in his hand has splatterings of blood, his arm aches and whines as he uses it to smear away the waterfall from his nose. At least a couple of the sidewalk lights are broken so he doesn’t scare every single normal person chilling at the rest stop as he walks up.

Remus is twenty one and four months, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t waste forty seven dollars on snacks from a vending machine just to get the change in quarters to call cross country. He’s not hungry but he peels open a Cliff bar and takes a bite anyway. The rest of the food he leaves on the patio floor around the vending machine for whatever comes by, be it the kids he can hear yelling or the raccoons watching from the tree line.

He glances back at the car, their car, Dee’s car. Just to make sure its still there. That Dee didn’t drive off without him.

Dee hadn’t, didn’t, doesn’t. He’s sitting in the driver's seat with the door wide open, half in half out, and it looks like he was fiddling with the radio again.

Remus tosses the other half of the bar into the trashcan and walks the last three steps to the payphones. 

She had tried. Remus puts the phone to his ear and tries to remember how to breathe. 

The buttons are stiff. Remus’s knuckle leaves behind traces of his blood as he dials. The back of his throat tastes like his inside of his stomach. There’s a gritty feeling along his teeth and the bottom of his mouth from the Cliff Bar. He’s knees tremble to the sound of the ringing, leaving him swaying in the too-long silences, in the bated breaths, in the calm before the hurricane. 

“Hi! It's the Regis Family! We’re not available right now, but if you leave your name and number, we’ll get back to you!” 

Remus’s mouth tastes like blood. He swallows it down, breathes through the rest of the message, the beep and another moment where his chest just aches with a billion words he doesn’t know how to say.

“H….hey.” His voice is raspy. Why is his voice so raspy? He clears his throat. “I, uh...I was calling to say, Happy Birthday. Hope it was a good one. That’s all. B--”

“--Hello?”

Remus’s jaw clicks shut at the noise, the words, the voice. Because even four years later Remus knows it like the back of his hand, can still imagine it screaming his name in the store, of it laughing as she brushed through his curls, of it whispering softly that everything is fine, everything is okay, I’m right here, Remus.

“Ha, Hi! Sorry about that, you caught us just as we were getting back to the house! Oh, this is embarrassing… Who is this? Our caller ID isn’t working…”

She trails off.

Remus thinks he’s forgotten how to breathe.

She sounds out of breath, flushed and happy and excited in a way that he doesn’t remember her ever being before. His vision tunnels through memories, through scenes in his head where she’s smiled and laughed and giggled the way she’s doing right now. He’s coming up blank.

He grabs the wall to keep himself steady.

“Hello?”

“I’m here,” Remus croaks.

She’s different now. So is he. Everything is different and the world seems to stop at that mind blowing statement.

“.....I’m sorry,” She says, “I really need to know who this is, now.”

Remus should hang up. 

Remus needs to hang up. 

He laughs, like he’s on death row, like the barrel of a gun in on his temple, like his foot just left the ledge.

“What?” He asks, “Can’t a mother recognize the sound of her own son's voice?”

There’s a breath. A moment. A second. Remus feels it. Like it's tangible, palpable, real. Like all the clocks in the world decided to stop. Like a tick without a tock. Like the past and the present and the future didn’t exist at all. There’s a breath, and Remus thinks that she had tried once, maybe she could try again. 

They both could try again.

“Oh my god. Is that...Baby, is that really you? I’m so sorry for what I said. You were right.” 

“Wait--”

“You’re always right. And I’m sorry about-- about everything. Please let me make it up to you?” His mother says and Remus gets a sinking feeling in his chest.

“What--”

“Or at least talk about it? Can we do that?”  His mother says and Remus should have hung up.

“Mom--”

“Can you come back home, Roman?” His mother says and Remus sees red.

Because, of course, she thought he was Roman. Of course. 

Red is the color of Roman. The color of his jacket and his shoes and the ball Remus should have thrown into the road when they were eight. The color of a past Remus can’t get rid of because every time he does anything he can only hear Roman’s voice in his head or picture his mom with her red lipstick telling him to take his pills and stop being so abnormal. It’s the color of a future that he can’t reach because every time he gets a little bit of hope he’s reminded that he’s unnecessary and forgettable. 

Red is the color of Remus’s blood that looks just like his twin’s but somehow has always been valued less to their mother.

He squeezes the handle of the phone so hard his fingers go numb from the pain, and the scarf around his wrist turns scarlet. His body trembles and bubbles and boils like its housing a volcano ready to erupt, or a thousand termites are trying to chew their way out of him, or every atom in his body is trying to shake themselves apart.

Remus is twenty one and four months old and he hangs up the phone so hard that it pops right back out of the slot and swings to the ground by its cord.

He doesn’t fix it. In fact he doesn’t even see it because he’s too busy seeing red. Too busy seeing Roman’s head collide with the bumper of a silver sedan, too busy seeing Roman’s neck break when he falls off the swingset wrong, too busy seeing Roman’s body on the ground of his carpet surrounded by the shattered remains of a snowglobe, too busy seeing all the things he should have done or let happen or helped happen.

Too busy knowing that hindsight is 2020 and Remus’s insides suddenly want to be outsides and his arm hurts and he wants to-- 

He wants to--

--“REMUS!” Dee shrieks from across the parking lot, sprinting towards him because he forgot that he can shapeshift into something faster. There’s a terror in his eyes, a fear, a horror in his expression that's like being stuck under a collapsed building and knowing that no one is gonna come. “REMUS! SOMEONE HELP!”---

--“REMUS!” Dee shrieks from across the parking lot, sprinting towards him because he forgot that he can shapeshift into something faster. There’s a terror in his eyes, a fear, a horror in his expression that's like being stuck under a collapsed building and knowing that no one is gonna come. “REMUS! SOMEONE HELP!”

But no one is close enough and Remus’s knots are a practiced stubborn thing that has his body convulsing before Dee remembers he can make claws and cut the scarf off.---

--“REMUS!” Dee shrieks from across the parking lot, sprinting towards him because he forgot that he can shapeshift into something faster. There’s a terror in his eyes, a fear, a horror in his expression that's like being stuck under a collapsed building and knowing that no one is gonna come. “REMUS! SOMEONE HELP!”

But no one is close enough and Remus’s knots are a practiced stubborn thing that has his body convulsing before Dee remembers he can make claws and cut the scarf off.

But by then Remus is already dead.---

But no that’s not right. 

He doesn’t want to die. 

His mouth tastes like metal, and he’s so sick of the taste of metal, of the smell of blood, of the sight of red on his clothes and on him. He’s so sick of being the weird twin, of being the one everyone wants to forget, of being gifted with a power that's so shitty it his own body rejects it. He’s so, so sick.

And tired.

And angry. 

That he spent all day trying to figure out what to say to his mother and she doesn’t even remember him. That his family pushed him away and now he watches himself jump off buildings or into traffic or off tables at a rest stop. That his skin feels too small and his mind too big and that there is absolutely nothing wrong with him but everyone still treated him like there was.

“Pardon me,” A voice says to his left. “Hello? Sir? You seem to be bleeding...”

It belongs to a guy with glasses, big thick blocky glasses that match every other part of him: his sharp jawline, his stiff spine, his set shoulders. It belongs to a guy with hair so dark it might as well have been a black hole, with eyes swirling with so many blues they looked like nebulas, with skin so pale it might as well have been the surface of the moon. It belongs to a guy that reaches out oh so carefully and touches Remus’s shoulder to check that he’s alright and---

-- “A stick in the mud?” Logan suggests sourly as they walk. The rain speckles his glasses and plasters his hair to his head.

“I was gonna say prude, but that works too,” His younger brother shrugs, sipping loudly from his drink. “Girl, you really just need to loosen up. You’re always so stressed!”

“I do not need to loosen up,” Logan counters, “In fact, if anything, I need to tighten up my interactions with people more. You saw what happened to the baristas at the Starbucks.”

“Yeah, and it was Awesome!” His brother motions to the drink in his hand, “Free drinks!”

“Will it still be awesome when they get fired and lose their source of income because they unwittingly gave away merchandise to customers?” Logan asks. He tugs his jackets around him tighter, hunching his shoulders and wishing that between the two of them they had thought to bring at least one umbrella.

His brother rolls his eyes because the rain doesn’t bother him anymore than the slight chill or the cars passing dangerously close to their sidewalk. “Honey,” He says, “Its two free drinks. It’s not gonna kill the infrastructure.”

Logan grunts, dismissing the rest of the argument as he was prone to do more often these days. “Remind me again why we’re here.”

“That prince dude is supposed to be around here today!”

“You mean, Princeps,” Logan corrects. “Assumedly named after the swordsmen from Roman armies pre-Marian reforms. Which does not make any sense considering that he does not carry a sword and his perceived power does not--”

“I wanna get his autograph!”

Logan squints back at his brother. “You want the autograph of a man who is running around the country in tights? You don’t even have anything for him to sign.”

His brother shakes his mostly empty drink and points to the spot right below where the barista had scratched out his own name, not that Logan can see it, or anything. “Duh.”

Logan shakes his head, as his brother prattles on about Princeps face, his biceps, his thighs. And as much as Logan enjoys listening to his brother talk about things that interest him, he wishes that it was something other than men that thought “superhero” was a stable dayjob. He sighs and removes his glasses and to clean them as best as he can with the raindrops being the nice of dimes.z

 He hates the rain, hates that he couldn’t ever see more than three feet when it so much as sprinkled, hates that his brother has no such problems at all and can continue walking without a care in the world.

“LOGAN!” His brother yells.

And Logan has just enough time to feel his stomach jump straight to his throat, before he walks blindly into an open manhole. His forehead slams on the outer rim so hard he sees actual stars in the corners of his blurry vision. And he fumbles and  flails and falls and...

And the empty air catches him, covets him, carries him off. Because he’s dead as soon as his head hits the concrete floor ten feet below---

Remus inhales like he’s been drowning for the past four years, and hasn’t been able to find the surface. He stumbles back from the stranger who had approached him, from the man who has a younger brother, who doesn’t like superheroes, who’s name is Logan. He stumbles back and feels the whole Earth roll under his feet, turning the solid ground to an uneven puddy.

Logan jerks back as well, be it shock or surprise or something in between and equally bad. He looks at Remus, the way that the first dealer from the Basilisk Casino had, the way that the new freshmen at their high school had when the older kids told them to steer clear of the guy who looked just like the theater star, the way that Roman had when he had first seen the orange bottle of pills that were supposed to make Remus not cry all the time.  

“My apologies, you seemed to be in distre--” Logan starts.

“Don’t touch me,” Remus says quicker, louder, angrier. Because Logan doesn’t know that he’s going to die some day in the future, that its going to be a stupid sudden death, that his brother that he actually loves and whom loves him back is going to witness it. Because Remus doesn’t know why he knows either.

His skin blisters and bubbles and itches in a way that tells him he needs to take it off. His arm burns from the scratches, his blood is making his hand and wrist all sticky and his head feels a bit like cotton. His mouth tastes like Starbucks Hot chocolate and ash. 

“Don’t touch me,” Remus says again, because he feels radioactive and can smell petrichor in the air and everything about it is wrong. If he says anything else he thinks he might throw up or cry or both and he doesn’t think anything other than more blood can come up.

Remus turns and runs. 

“Remus?” Dee asks, when Remus throws himself into the passenger seat the way he should have that morning.

Remus shakes his head. And keeps shaking it because if he stops his thoughts will catch up and then they’ll really be in trouble.

“Drive,” He manages between his inconsolable gulps for air.

“Where?” Dee asks.

“Don’t care.”

He doesn’t. He just needs to be somewhere other than here.

Remus is twenty one and four months and he’s no stranger to travelling without a destination. Dee buckles his seat belt and pulls out of the parking spot without another word. Remus brings his knees to his head and counts, and counts, and counts. If he closes his eyes he thinks that he might see the silhouette of Logan standing next to the payphones staring at his hand still so he doesn’t close his eyes.

“That’s just what I’m saying, John.” The radio says, “All these new people with what can only be classified as “superpowers” and what is the Police doing about this? Nothing!” 

“Hotel,” Dee says, “We can order some food there and actually look at those marks on your arm.”

“Whatever,” Remus says.

“Well what do you expect the Police to do?” The radio says, “Their answer to everything is “shoot it.” I don’t know about you, but I don’t want the police shooting at a kid who just so happened to be able to make lightning. You heard about that incident in the Idahoan Mall didn't you? Times are changing. It's up to the people to police themselves now.”

Dee sticks his tongue out ever so slightly, like a snake smelling the air.

“You’re encouraging the actions of people like that dragon guy from that incident? The child from that event is in the hospital right now. 

“So is the man that had been robbing the store. Which is better than him being the morgue. I’m not saying that I think that putting children in the hospital is a good idea! I’m saying that only protecting the lives of “good” people is telling everyone to become judge, jury, and executioner. The Idaho Mall Incident could have been handled better-- in fact I think if the new guy, the one around the east wearing the white? You know the one I’m talking about, Karen.”

“Yeah, yeah, the Prince? I think he called himself Prince.” 

“Yes. If the Prince had been the one who had handled the Idaho Mall, it could have been handled completely peacefully, without either parties having ended up in the hospital.”

Dee grips the steering wheel, tightly.

Remus reaches out and turns the radio off.

[Part 5]

[babymetaldoll]

DIWK - Chapter six: "I don't know everything, despite the fact you think that I do"

My gif

Word count: 12,6K

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of drug use, drug detox, physical violence. Spencer being a jerk.

Summary: (Y/N) had enough of Spencer's attitude and plans an intervention on her own.

A/N: Hello! how are you? how's your week going? my life is a mess and I'm fighting with a lot of anxiety and stress after the month I spent with my grandparents, so I've been taking everything with calm in the latest days. I hope you all enjoy this chapter! Spencer is... and then reader... ok, read it, and see you in the comments! Stay safe, kids!!!

Series Masterlist

Chapter one | Chapter two | Chapter three | Chapter four | Chapter five | Chapter six | Chapter seven | Chapter eight | Chapter nine | Chapter ten | Chapter eleven | Chapter twelve | Chapter thirteen | Chapter fourteen | Chapter fifteen |

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(Y/N)'s point of view

After New Orleans, I thought things were starting to get a little better. For a few days, Spencer was a lot like himself again. It was refreshing and exciting. He smiled. He even looked like he had slept. And he wasn't rude. Not at first. Not until that Friday.

- "Hey, pretty girl"- Morgan appeared next to my desk and tapped on the pile of files I was working on- Got any plans for tonight?

- "I was actually going to meet my boyfriend. Why? What do you have in mind?"

Yes. Paul and I had a date, 'cos I hadn't seen him in two weeks. We had spent San Valentine's apart, 'cos we were out on a case. And I barely noticed it. I didn't have my hopes high for that night, though. Maybe pizza, a movie... I didn't feel like having sex, even when it had been over a month since we had done it.

- "I'm clubbing tonight, and I know you are a party girl. So, do you wanna come with me?"

- "As tempting as it sounds, I pass"- I smiled at my friend and shook my head- "All I can do today is have a quiet evening, eat something, watch a movie and then call it a day."

- "Are you sure? 'cos Emily is on board, and you two are my party sidekicks."- I chuckled and kept shaking my head- "Ok, alright. You lose. What about you, pretty boy?"

Spencer had been awfully quiet that whole afternoon. He was buried in his paperwork and only moved from his seat to get coffee.

- "Reid? are you listening?"- Morgan waved until he got his attention. But Spencer apparently didn't want to talk- "Hello? Earth to Reid."

- "What the hell do you want?"- I brought up my eyes to my best friend, 'cos his voice was as annoyed as rude.

- "Hey, hey, slow down, kid. What's your problem?"

- "I'm trying to work, and you don't let me! That's my problem!"- Morgan raised an eyebrow and took a deep break.

- "Ok, my bad."

Spencer glued his eyes on his files again, and I kept looking at him closely for a minute. He was fidgety on his chair. He kept scratching his arms, and he had flipped from human to whatever he was when he yelled at Morgan in a blink.

Of course, shit wasn't over yet.

- "Hey, do you want a ride home?"- I asked him and stood by his desk on my way out. He was getting ready to leave too.

- "I can take the subway on my own"- he talked to me like I was insulting him- "And I don't wanna get in the way of your fake date,"- he grumbled and put on his coat

- "Sorry, what?"- I wasn't sure I had gotten that right.

- "Yeah, you have a date with your boyfriend, and I don't want to get in the way."

- "What are you talking about, Reid?"- I couldn't believe his words. He was acting like a jerk.

- "You know, I don't get it"- he was mad. Furious. And he snapped in front of me, out of the blue- "Why are you still dating that jerk if you don't even love him? does he fuck you that good?"

I could see from the corner of my eye how every head in the bullpen turned to us. I looked at my best friend in the eyes and didn't say a word. I just nodded and grabbed my purse.

- "Enjoy your weekend, Reid."

I knew I didn't have to take those words personally. Spencer wasn't himself. But I was growing tired of justifying him in front of the team and myself. It was time for the big guns.

I tried to ease my mind that night, preparing myself for what I knew I had to do the next day. But I couldn't shake Reid from my thoughts. I needed to know what he was doing if he had dinner. If he was able to sleep. Shit! I needed to know if he was getting high all alone in his apartment.

What if he overdosed? What if he just decided to go a little further and his body couldn't resist it? He was too skinny. He wasn't eating correctly. Shit! He could die.

- "Hey, babe. Are you ok?"- Paul asked me all of a sudden. He was kissing my neck and trying to get under my shirt, and I wasn't even moving. I was thinking about Reid and how to help him. And meanwhile, my boyfriend was trying to have sex with me.

- "Sorry, what?"- I know, that wasn't a good answer.

- "Are you even here?"- he sighed and let me go- "Let me guess, you are thinking about a case."

- "No, I'm just worried about Reid."

I know. That wasn't a good answer either, considering Paul's angry face as soon as he heard his name. Paul hated Reid. Ok, Paul hated every single one of my friends, but he despised Spencer. He would almost see him as his sworn enemy, and they had seen each other in person twice in over a year.

- "Now you think about that nerd when we are making out?!"

- "What?! No! that's not what I meant!"- I tried to explain, but it was clear that wasn't going to work- "He is going through a tough time after the abduction and..."

- "Yeah, yeah"- he cut me off and stood up- "Everything about Spencer is more important than me! I don't wanna hear that shitty and sad kidnap story again!"

- "I'm just trying to say I am worried about him!"- I stood up and followed him around the apartment.

- "You are always worried about him!"

- "He is my friend. He is in pain!"

- "And what about me?! Do you even care about me?!"

- "Sure! of course, I do!"

I knew that was it all of a sudden. I didn't even want to argue with Paul, and neither explain to him how much I needed to help Reid. So I didn't say a word. I only stood in front of him. He brought up his eyes to me and sighed. It took him a few seconds to gather the courage to say what he wanted to say. But when he did, it wasn't good.

- "You are in love with him, aren't you?"

His question made my blood boil. I hated he made such a presumption only because I was worried about Spencer. I loved him, sure, but because he was my best friend. I was with him all day, every day. I saw him more than my own family. More than Lu, Mikey, or Frank. And I knew Reid was in pain and in real danger. Of course, Spencer was my priority.

- "No, Paul. I am not in love with him."- I looked right into his eyes and tried to make my point clear- "He is going through a shitty situation, and I wanna help him. That's all."

- "And do you love me?"

He had never asked me that before. We haven't talked about "love" in the whole year and a half we had been together. And, to be honest, I didn't want to lie. I didn't want to hurt him either, but it was the end of the line, and we both knew it.

- "Paul..."

- "That's a no,"- he said and folded his arms across his chest- "If you don't love me, why are you with me?"

- "Do you love me?"

- "Of course, I do!"- I raised an eyebrow and stared at him for a second - "Don't profile me!"

- "I'm not profiling you. I'm just sure you don't! And that's ok. Paul, we... This is not a relationship. It's two lonely persons holding onto something that didn't work."

We just stared at each other and didn't say a word for what seemed to be for ages.

- "Despite what you might think, I know you, (Y/N)"- he took a step closer to me and kissed my forehead- "And I know you love him."

- "Paul, I really don't. He is my friend, and I'm worried about him"- he simply nodded and sighed.

- "Sure thing. Take care"- started walking to the door and never looked back.

I stood alone in the middle of my apartment. That was it. The easiest breakup because neither of us was in love. And yet, I felt empty and sad. Tears started falling down my cheeks, and I didn't notice them until I was sobbing.

I wasn't sad I had lost Paul. I didn't understand where that emptiness and misery were coming from. Maybe it was grief for a relationship that was never meant to work. Perhaps I was sad because I had failed to maintain a relationship. After all, work had turned into my life. I was just like my father and my brother.

A part of me felt I was slowly turning into what I had fought not to be. And letting Paul might mean I was no longer the old (Y/N). And the new (Y/N) scared me: I was a Fed, I worked over 50 hours a week, and I had killed people. Bad people, but I had pulled the trigger. I knew I had the job of my dreams, and I knew I loved working at the BAU. But with every day that passed, I was walking further and further away from the version of me I loved.

And I was scared of what the new (Y/N) was going to be like. Was she going to be like her dad and lose her family due to her work? or like her brother? who couldn't have a normal life 'cos being a detective was more significant.

I knew we all made our own personal decisions, but a part of me felt it. We were all cut from the same cloth, and I was meant to grow old, alone, and the BAU was going to be my whole life until the day I retired, and the loneliness consumed me.

- "I need a drink."

Spencer's point of view

I took a cab home. I didn't want to take the subway because it would take longer to get there, and I couldn't wait that long. I needed one more fix.

I had been telling myself the same for a whole week now: Just one more. One last time.

But it never was the last time. Every night I failed, and that Friday, I was so eager to forget, I wasn't thinking straight. I snapped at Morgan and (Y/N), just 'cos I was going insane, craving Dilaudid.

After New Orleans, I decided to stop using it. And for two days, I did it. But, of course, I couldn't handle the need. That needle was going to be my end, and I was struggling every day to quit. It was impossible to stop on my own when I needed to quieten the pain somehow.

You don't know how much pain you are into until you numb yourself, and the weight of all your troubles and regrets is lifted from your chest. I knew it was eating me alive, but I had to be strong and quit. So, every day I tried. And every day, I failed. Just like that night, when I laid in bed and slowly unwrapped my belt from my arm, losing all connection with reality.

I had yelled at my friends, and they were probably angry at me. But shit! It was worth it. Nothing was even relevant as long as I could feel the relief Dilaudid gave me.

But it never lasted. And the following day, I regretted it all. I woke up dressed on my bed, a needle next to me and an empty bottle of Dilaudid by its side. Just like a junkie. Tears filled my arms as soon as I realized what had happened. What I had done: I had failed yet again.

My whole body was shaking. I needed to eat something. My last proper meal had been Thursday when (Y/N) and I stopped for dinner on our way back home. And I guess if it hadn't been for her, I wouldn't have eaten at all.

I took a long shower, trying to wash away the guilt. It's obvious to say it didn't work. But I consoled myself thinking last night had been the last time. That day I was going to be strong enough, and I was going to quit. I had decided. Nothing could stop me that time.

My breakfast was miserable: I made coffee and took a look in my fridge. Nothing. All I ate that morning was a bowl of cereal (without milk) and two cups of coffee and sugar. Sugar and coffee, actually, like everybody teased me.

I tried to read for a while, at a normal peace, because my head was still fuzzy. So I sat in my living room and grabbed a book from my coffee table: "The Illustrated Man."

After a few hours and four books later, my mind kept coming to the same place. I was out of Dilaudid. And it was a good thing, 'cos now I just wasn't going to get any more. That was it. I had officially quit. Yes. And I felt good. It was a new day, and I was ready to be clean and sober. So I made myself another cup of coffee to celebrate and took a look at my bookshelf. I picked another three books and sat on my armchair, ready to keep on reading. I didn't need drugs to be happy.

Around three in the afternoon, I couldn't stop moving on the couch as I read the sixth book of the day. I drank yet another cup of coffee, even when I knew what I really needed was to get some real food. But I didn't care to starve at that moment. There was only one thought in my mind: Getting high.

Maybe I wasn't ready to quit. I should try leaving it periodically. Actually, perhaps having a bottle around the house could help me ease my mind. Knowing it was there made me feel better. As good as using it.

I was going insane. I kept debating whether I should stay home or find my dealer and just get a little dose. Just enough for one more time. Maybe two. I kept walking around my apartment, creating excuses in my head to get high.

And that was when I heard a knock on my door. I stopped on my tracks, confused. I wasn't waiting for anyone, and I wouldn't really have many unannounced visits. So I walked silently towards the door and looked through the peephole.

- "Shit"- my voice was a whisper I prayed (Y/N) hadn't heard.

What was she doing there? Maybe she had come to talk about my attitude at the BAU. I had said some awful things, but that wasn't really a good moment. I didn't want to see her. I didn't want her to see me like this. I didn't want anyone to see me. So I didn't open the door.

But she knocked again. I didn't move and almost didn't breathe as I stood still by the door, waiting for her to leave. But she wasn't leaving. Instead, she kept knocking over and over again, driving me insane until I snapped.

- "What the fuck do you want?!"- I opened the door and yelled at her face. She widened her eyes, surprised, and didn't move.

- "You just came to stand there and look at me?- I shouted, and she flinched. She had to leave. I wanted her out of my house. But rather than leaving, she walked in and stood in the middle of the apartment.

- "What is wrong with you?"- she was making an effort to stay calm, but I could tell she was scared. She kept biting the inner part of her cheeks and crossed her arms on her chest. Was she scared of me?

- "Spencer, why are you acting like this?"

- "What the fuck is your problem, (Y/N)? Why are you in my house uninvited?!"

- "I called you like three times. I wanted to invite you to my house for dinner, but you didn't answer, so I got worried."

- "As you can see, I'm fine! And no, I don't wanna go to your house for dinner!"

Her eyes were wide opened, staring right into mine, and I swear it physically hurt to see her. She shouldn't be there. I needed her out. I didn't want her to see me like that, and I needed to get out and get some more Dilaudid. Now more than ever.

- "I'm making lasagna"- (Y/N) whispered- "Mikey, Frank, and Lu are coming."

- "I don't care, I don't wanna go to your house, I don't wanna go anywhere! I'm fine here."

- "But, honey bunny..."

- "Stop calling me that!! I hate it!! It's a stupid nickname! I'm not your fucking honey bunny!!"

The silence in my apartment was so deep, I could hear my own heart racing inside my chest. (Y/N)'s eyes filled with tears that soon started falling down her cheeks. She dropped her shoulders, and her arms hung at her sides, slacks.

- "Please"- she begged- "Tell me what's wrong. I want to help you, Spencer."

- "There's nothing wrong! don't you get sometimes I don't want to be stuck at you?! I already have to see your face all day at work. I deserve a break during the few weekends we have off!"

- "I know you don't mean that"- her voice broke, and her chin trembled, but she still made her best not to cry.

- "You don't know that. You don't know shit, (Y/N)."

I stayed quiet and looked away from her. I couldn't stare at those sad eyes for another second.

- "Please, leave"- I managed to control my voice for a second, in a poor attempt not to hurt her anymore. But she shook her head and sniffed.

- "No, Spencer, I'm not leaving until you tell me what's wrong with you. I am worried."

- "There's nothing fucking wrong with me, (Y/N)! Don't you get it?! I just don't wanna be with you!"

- "Please"- she begged, sobbing in front of me. I couldn't stand it. I couldn't bear to see her anymore.

So I ruined everything and hurt her. I pushed her. She nearly fell back but managed to stabilize. She was shocked by my actions, but I didn't even have time to think about what I was doing. All I could think of that minute was that I needed her out of my house to buy drugs and get high.

- "Spencer, what the hell are you doing?"

- "I asked you nicely, but you didn't leave. So now I won't be nice anymore. Get out!!"

I grabbed her by the arm and pulled her out of my sight. She cried, pleading I would tell her what was wrong with me. But I didn't listen. Instead, I dragged her out of my apartment and slammed the door. I could hear her crying in the hall for a moment, and it enraged me. I thought if she was crying, she herself had caused it. She had appeared at my house at the wrong moment, unannounced.

It wasn't my fault. I just wanted her to leave. I did what I had to do.

And I didn't regret it.

Not until Sunday afternoon, when an announced knock on my door forced me to drag my stoned body from the couch. It was a delivery boy who gave me a package and left. It had nothing written on it. Not even my name. When I opened the box, I found a computer and a note.

- "Play me."

I knew I was still stoned, but not enough to be imagining those kinds of things. I took the laptop to the couch with me. There was a video ready to be played in it. So I pushed play.

- "What the fuck do you want?!"- my heart dropped. It was me, but I could barely recognize my own face- "You just came to stand there and look at me?"

It was a recording of me yelling at (Y/N). She had taped everything, and I couldn't believe my own eyes. I was a monster.

- "I'm making lasagna"- my chin quivered at that scene. Her voice was a whisper, and I was out of myself- "Mikey, Frank, and Lu are coming."

- "I don't care, I don't wanna go to your house, I don't wanna go anywhere! I'm fine here."

- "But honey bunny..."

- "Stop calling me that!! I hate it!! It's a stupid nickname! I'm not your fucking honey bunny!!"

I paused the video, 'cos I couldn't take it anymore. That wasn't me. I couldn't believe I had said all those things to her. It hurt (Y/N), so I could get drugs.

I covered my face with my hands and cried. I was done. Not only did I not know how to recover from my drug addiction, but I also didn't know how I could ever look at my best friend again in the eyes after what I had done.

I remembered she had cried, and I knew I had been mean. But when I saw the extreme hate in each one of my words, I knew I had reached rock bottom. I needed help.

After a few minutes, I pushed play again. I knew I needed to see the whole thing actually to understand what had happened.

- "Please, leave!!"

- "No! Spencer, I'm not leaving until you tell me what's wrong with you. I am worried."

- "There's nothing fucking wrong with me, (Y/N)! Don't you get it! I just don't wanna be with you!!"

- "Please... Spencer, no! What the hell are you doing?"

- "I asked you nicely, but you didn't leave. So now I won't be nice anymore. Get out!!"

I hit her. I pushed her. She was there to invite me for dinner, and I hurt her. Who was I? What kind of beast does such a thing to his best friend?

Who would do such a thing to the woman he loves.

I curled on the couch, crying. How could I let that happen? When did I turn into a downward version of myself? Ethan was right. I had been dumb enough to think I could control it when in reality, drugs were controlling me. I was losing who I was. I could lose my job. I was losing my friends.

I knew things had been hard for me growing up, but I had finally reached a point in my life where I was happy. I liked my life. I loved my job. For once, I had real friends, and I was making good, catching bad guys. I had actually fulfilled my dream to work at the BAU. So why was I wasting it all?

- "Spencer"- I heard (Y/N)'s voice at the end of the video and saw her face on the screen- "I am here if you need to talk. I'm not mad. I just wanna hug you. Please, call me. Let me help you."

But I couldn't do it. I couldn't talk to her after what had happened. I dragged her by the arm out of my apartment. I made her cry. I didn't deserve anything. I couldn't deal with reality and the consequences of the monster I had become into.

Sunday, March 4th. That was the day it all changed for good.

(Y/N)'s point of view

Spencer didn't call. I wasn't surprised, though. I knew he would be affected by the video and probably felt like he didn't deserve my help. So I did what I knew Frank would say I shouldn't do. I put on my shoes and got ready to go to his apartment and pick him up. I was not going to leave him alone when I could see he was struggling to survive.

But when I opened my door, Spencer was sitting in the hall outside my apartment, hugging his legs, shaking. His eyes were puffy, and his lips were shattered. He looked at me, afraid I would be mad. But how could I? I just wanted to help him.

I kneeled in front of him and touched his hands. They were stone cold. His lips trembled as I looked into his eyes, and after a few seconds of hesitation, he finally threw his arms around me, crying.

- "It's ok, honey"- I whispered and felt his whole body shaking as he held me tight- "I've got you."

- "I'm sorry"- I mumbled, sobbing against my shoulder.

- "Shh, it's ok, it's ok"- I ran my fingers through his hair and kissed his cheek.

- "Please"- I had to bite my lips not to cry with him, but I knew I had to be strong for him- "Help me."

- "Always."

I poured two cups of tea on my kitchen island as I looked at Spencer eating a bowl of soup. He was swallowing it like he hadn't eaten in days, which was probably true. We had barely spoken in the last hour. He kept asking for forgiveness as I helped him walk into my apartment and sat with him on the couch. He held onto me like a castaway holds to whatever shipwrecks he finds to survive.

When I finally convinced him to eat something, he followed me to the kitchen and looked at me in silence as I cooked. I didn't know what to tell him, so I just did my best to stay calm. I knew what was happening next, and it wasn't going to be pretty. But I was ready to go through it with him.

- "Thank you"- he whispered and sighed as soon as he was finished.

- "Do you want some more?"- but he shook his head. I smiled at him and handed him his cup of herbal tea.

- "Cookies?"- he didn't answer. He just looked at me with those big puppy eyes and broke my heart.

- "I'm sorry"- he spoke so softly I almost didn't hear him.

- "Don't be."

- "I was a monster"- he stared at me, and I knew he was thinking I was never going to forgive him, when the truth was, I wasn't mad at him at all. I was just worried sick.

- "Are you ready to get better?"- I was afraid to ask, 'cos I was afraid he could change his mind. Still, I trusted the video had shaken him deeply enough to erase from his head any thought of relapsing.

- "Yes."

His answer was clear. Even when it was a whisper, there was no hesitation or no fear. Pure determination. It made me smile to hear him like that. And he smiled at me for a second, filling my heart with hope.

- "Ok, then this is what we are doing"- I walked to my desk and took a folder I had prepared for that day. I gave it to him, and he frowned, confused.

- "What is this?"

- "Our home detox plan. You and I are locked in this apartment for the next fifteen days."

Spencer looked at me, baffled. I just smiled and walked to the fridge to show him how prepared I was.

- "I got all the food we need, and the meds you might need, and a nurse that will come to visit daily to put an eye on you."

- "What? How? What about work?"

- "I'll talk to Hotch."

- "What are you gonna tell him?"

- "The truth"

I wasn't going to lie to my boss, not when he also knew what was happening with Reid.

- "Honey, he knows there's something wrong with you, and I'm sure he will understand our absence for two weeks. You and I have enough vacation days saved to cover that time. And you need it."

Spencer looked at me in silence. I couldn't read his face because his eyes hypnotized me. Even under those circumstances, his eyes were beautiful and sweet. Filled with hope.

- "Ok"- he nodded, and I hugged him right away.

- "I'm so proud of you, honey"- I whispered and caressed his hair for a second.- "Come on. We are doing one more thing before we start."

- "What?"

- "Cleaning your apartment."

I took Reid back to his place and got rid of the Dilaudid he had gotten that weekend: All of it. And the needles. I helped him clean because I didn't want him to find a messy apartment when he would get back there. Then, we packed a bag of clean clothes to take to my place. He looked weak but determined to change, which made me feel so relieved. My heart was joyful.

- "Do you have everything?"- I whispered and held his hand as he stood in the middle of the living room and took a look around- "Do you want to take some books?"- he didn't answer- "Spencer? are you ok?"

- "I don't want to be a burden"- he whispered, and I took a deep breath right away, trying to find the right words to convince him he wasn't and that there was no way on earth he could ever be a burden in my life.

- "You are not, I swear"- he looked down and played with his fingers in my hand- "I mean it."

- "It's not going to be nice"

- "I know"

- "And..."

- "And I want to be there, with you, all along. Ok?"- he looked at me, and my heart skipped a beat.

- "(Y/N), withdrawal symptoms from opiates include anxiety, sweating, vomiting, and"- he cleared his throat, embarrassed- "And diarrhea."

- "I know... but we are going to go through this together, one day at the time."

Spencer kept his fingers in my hand, tracing paths on my skin. I looked at him and bit the inside of my cheeks. I didn't want him to doubt himself, 'cos I knew he could do it.

- "One day at the time sounds good"- he murmured and looked at me with a tiny smile. I nodded and kissed his cheek. I don't know why I did it. I just know how much I liked it. The sensation of his skin, and his two days beard, I don't know what it did to me. But I even shivered.

- "Let's go"- I whispered and held his hand tight. He nodded and grabbed his bag. It was about to get real.

The first night with Spencer was wild. He hadn't used it in over a day, and the withdrawal symptoms started around midnight. We were on the couch watching a movie. I was already half asleep when I felt Spencer constantly moving. He started biting his nails and scratching his face every two minutes.

- "Are you ok?"- I whispered and looked at him. He was pale.

- "I'm not gonna be able to do this."

- "Honey..."

- "No, I mean it."

- "You can, and you will."

- "How do you know? I was weak enough to start using."

- "You were forced to start using, and you are strong enough to stop"- I sat straight and held his hands. He was freezing- "What do you say we put you to bed? I'll make you a cup of tea, and we'll see how you feel in the morning."

He didn't move. I kept his hand in mine, and he held it tight. Real tight. I don't know what he was thinking about, but after a few seconds, he sighed and looked at me.

- "Bed and tea sounds nice,"- I nodded and stood up, but he didn't move- "(Y/N)?"

- "Yes?"

- "Where are you going to sleep?"

- "On the couch"- he sighed, and his face was filled with guilt.

- "I can't let you do that. This is your house."

- "Don't worry about that now. Come on. You need to rest"- I caressed his hand with my thumb, and he finally stood up. But halfway to the bedroom, he stopped.

- "I feel so guilty to put you through all this."

- "I want to do this"

- "But..."

- "No, but"- I turned to him and cupped his face with my hands- "I love you, and I'm not gonna leave you alone. No matter what."

My words resonated inside my head for a few seconds as I stared at him. My stomach was fluttering, and my heart was racing inside my chest.

That wasn't good. But I didn't have to overthink my feelings because my best friend needed me.

Reid walked to the bathroom and put on his pajamas while I made him a cup of warm tea. I knew what was coming: nausea, shivering, throwing up, stomach ache, and more. But I was ready. Two weeks and Spencer was going to be ok.

I had talked about my plan with Hotch earlier that day, and he agreed to give us two weeks off and cover us. Spencer was going to be in Vegas, 'cos his mother had had an episode, and I would be in New York, helping my brother on a case. Seemed convincing. Having the two of us out of town would stop any of our friends to stop by unannounced.

- "(Y/N), thank you for doing this for Reid"- Hotch said before hanging up. I felt lucky to have him as my unit chief. He surely cared for all of us. I don't think anyone else would have done the same.

Retchings from my bathroom were the first thing I heard as soon as I stepped into my room.

- "Honey, do you need help?"- but Reid didn't answer. So I ran back to the kitchen and got him a Gatorade from the fridge, set it on the nightstand. Then I ran to my closet and grabbed a clean towel.

I opened the bathroom door and found Reid kneeled by the toilet. He had already flushed but didn't stand up.

- "Here"- I dampened the towel and put it on his forehead. He closed his eyes and sighed- "Better?"

Spencer just nodded and stayed still for a moment. I took off his glasses and pulled his hair back carefully. He started retching a second later, and I rubbed his stomach, cooing him. When he was done, I flushed and helped him stand up. That wasn't it, and I knew it. He knew it too.

- "Did you know brushing your teeth right after throwing up damages your teeth?"- he whispered, making me smile. It felt good to know deep down, even under those shitty circumstances, he was still the same good old Reid.

- "So, mouthwash?"- I moved the bottle closer for him, and he just nodded- "I'll be outside."

Reid drank a little Gatorade and made a sad effort to read after getting into bed but fell asleep in less than five minutes. I took the glasses off (again) and took the book from his hands. My heart felt warm just to see him there, resting.

But that lasted less than half an hour. I stayed by Spencer's side to make sure he was ok. I was reading when he started retching again. I grabbed the bucket I had already set underneath the bed and rushed to help him. His stomach was already empty. He was basically just vomiting bile.

When he finally fell asleep again, he started shaking. I touched his hand, and he was freezing, so I took an extra blanket from the closet, placed it on top of him, and set the room's thermostats to make it a little warmer for him.

I stayed by his side, reading until he woke up again. This time, he was sweating. I took a clean pajama top from his bag and helped him change. Then, I took the dirty pajamas and the clothes he had worn that day and put them in the washer.

I sat next to Reid on the bed and looked at him. He was awake, rolling over and over, not able to stay still.

- "Come here"- I whispered and tapped on my lap- "Put your head here."

I thought he was going to argue, but no. Instead, he did as told with no hesitation as I ran my fingers through his hair slowly, scratching his scalp carefully. I felt how he inhaled deeply and relaxed, at least for a little while.

But it didn't last. And the rest of the night was a long loop of puke, shivers, and sweat. Spencer finally fell asleep for good around six in the morning, and I dragged my exhausted self to the couch. Night one was done. Nine more to go.

Spencer's point of view

My whole body ached. I opened my eyes, disoriented. All I knew was that I felt I had been beaten up, but I didn't recognize the room. I did recognize the smell on my pillow, though. It was (Y/N)'s. That's how I remembered what was going on.

Adding to how bad I felt, physically, I felt worst knowing everything that had happened the night before and in advance for everything I knew would happen that week. But even knowing that, and even when I was embarrassed to be a burden, I was glad to be there. I was happy to feel taken cared of and loved. It was a change I never imagined I could experience. The one who always took care of his mother now had someone who took care of him. It was under a miserable context, but I felt loved anyway.

Even when I was loved only as a friend.

I stood up slowly. I was fatigued, probably 'cos I had spent half of the night puking. I drank what was left of the Gatorade on the nightstand and walked to the living room. (Y/N) was asleep on the couch. My heart ached to think how uncomfortable she probably was while I slept on her queen-sized bed. No one had ever cared so much about me before. So I walked to the kitchen and made her breakfast. A classical Reid breakfast. Coffee, cereal, and milk. That was it. That was all I could cook.

- "Hey, what are you doing?"- (Y/N) appeared suddenly and smiled at me so sweetly, I nearly dropped the coffee pot.

- "I'm trying to make you breakfast"- I confessed and blushed- "And as you can see, I'm not much of a cooker."

- "You made coffee, you covered the most important part"- she held the cup I had filled for her and smiled- "What if you get comfy on the couch while I make you something to eat?"

- "I can't let you do everything, (Y/N)"- the way she looked at me, my heart skipped a beat.

- "I'll tell you what: If I ever get sick or hurt, or anything happens to me, you are going to be the one taking care of me. Ok?"- I nodded and stayed quiet- "Now, go to the couch. It's a lazy Monday."

- "What does that mean?"

- "We stay in our pajamas, watch movies, nap, and do nothing."

How could anyone say no to that?

I wasn't hungry at all, but (Y/N) really applied herself with everything she cooked: she made chocolate chips, hotcakes, peanut butter and jelly sandwich, a smoothie, and also forced me to eat a bowl of fruit. She said I needed all the vitamins I could get, 'cos I had to get strong.

She sat next to me, ate the bowl of cereal I had prepared for her, and drank the coffee I had made. It was relaxing just staying there, covered with a blanket, watching Dr. Who. I felt my body losing up little by little. Until detox hit again. The light was bothering me, burning my eyes, and my body felt weak. Nauseous started kicking in, and before I knew it, I was throwing up on (Y/N)'s carpet.

She held a bucket in front of me and pressed a damped towel on the back of my neck.

- "Better?"- (Y/N) whispered and smiled at me. Her fingers tucked some of my hair behind my ears gently- "Do you want to lay down for a while? You are shaking."

I just nodded.

- "Ok, come on, let's go"- she held my arm and helped me stand up. She was right. I was shaking, but not just because I was cold. It was the withdrawal.

I was so embarrassed and mortified. With each symptom, I was a little more certain (Y/N) would never look at me the way I did. She would never fall for me after what she was witnessing. No one in their right mind would.

- "There you are"- she whispered, fixing the pillow behind my head as I laid on her bed again.

- "Can you please close the curtains?"- I whispered, covering my face with both hands. The light was too painful to deal with.

- "Sure, honey. Headache?"- all I could do was nod- "I'll get you ibuprofen, that will help with your body aches and the migraine."

I stayed still, eyes closed, hands covering my face, thinking how I had gotten to the point of having to detox my body from drugs. It was, without a doubt, the lowest moment of my whole life.

- "Ok, honey, try to get some rest, ok?"- (Y/N) whispered after I took the ibuprofen and drank half the bottle of water she had brought.

-  "Can you..."- I studied because I was afraid to tell her I didn't want her to leave me alone. I was afraid to be on my own. I didn't trust myself or my mind.

- "What is it? Do you want another blanket?"

- "Can you stay with me?"- I finally asked and held her hand. She just nodded, smiling, and sat next to me on her bed, making sure I was comfy and cozy, fixing the pillow again and the blanket. I looked at her as she laid by my side on top of the covers and held her book.

- "I'm here, Spencer. And I'll be where when you wake up, ok?"

- "Can you read to me?"- I closed my eyes 'cos the light was killing me.

- "And your headache?"

- "Your voice is soothing, and it would help to concentrate on something else but the pain."

- "Ok... then prepare yourself for some horror, 'cos I'm reading, yet again, "Something wicked this way comes."

- "It's one of my favorites"- I whispered and sighed.

- "Why am I not surprised?"

I tried to fight the waves of nausea, the pain in every muscle and headache, and only focused on the sound of her voice as she read. It took me back to when I was a kid, and my mom would read me every night. (Y/N) kept caressing my hair and reading to me. It was the closest I had ever been to heaven, even when physically, I felt like dying.

When I woke up, (Y/N) was asleep by my side. I tried to move, but my body was limp. It was too painful for me to get up on my own, and all I could think of was one simple thing: Dilaudid. I was craving it. I would never feel so bad if I had a fix. Just a little one. To make the pain go away.

I was making excuses to justify my need for drugs. I wanted to feel better, 'cos right there, on (Y/N)'s bed, I felt dead already, and my whole body was rotting. I just wanted to get a little high. It wasn't going to hurt anyone. Right?

Wrong. The bruise on (Y/N)'s arm was the reality check I needed. I hurt her. I hit her. I pushed her away from me. That's how low I had gotten. I would not let that happen again, and more important than anything else: I was never going to hurt (Y/N), ever again. And that I swore to myself that day on her bed.

There was no use in denying the fact I was in love with my best friend. She was the best thing that had ever happened to me. And I knew I was going to love her forever, even when she would only be my friend. I didn't even know when I had fallen so hard in love with her. I tried to remember the moment my feelings had changed from friendship to love, but I couldn't find it. I just knew I loved her, and nothing was ever gonna change that.

The kind of love that makes you think you'd die for that person. I would die for her, just to make sure she is safe.

I felt so pathetic thinking those things. Not because I didn't want to feel that way, but because I knew (Y/N) would never look at me like that. But still, I'd give her everything she could ever ask me for.

I just laid by her side and looked at her as she slept. My eyes were finally able to slide on every detail of her face. Her freckles, her nose, the color of her lips that even without makeup looked like a cherry. And the bruise on her arm. I was never going to forget about it and neither forgive myself.

- "Hey"- she whispered, fluttering her eyes- "How are you feeling?"

- "Good"- I lied. I didn't want to tell her I felt like dying. She stayed still, looking at me for a few seconds.

- "Are you hungry?"- I shook my head, even that hurt- "How's the headache?"- my eyes were killing me.

- "Better"- she nodded and sighed.

- "I know you are full of shit, Spencer Walter Reid. You don't need to lie"- I just closed my eyes and refused to open them again for a few minutes.

- "I just don't want you to worry, (Y/N). That's all."

- "Do you want to sleep some more? I'm gonna go..."- but as soon as she moved, I stopped her.

- "No"- I looked at her and held her hand immediately. Every muscle in my body hurt with that movement, but I didn't regret it- "Please, don't leave."

- "Ok, I won't go. I promise"- she held my hand and caressed it slowly and smiled so sweetly, I think I even smiled back.

We laid in silence for a while. I closed my eyes again, trying to breathe normally. (Y/N) was lying next to me. That would get my heart racing in a second.

- "The nurse is coming around five. She will put an eye on you every day if you need any medical attention, ok?"- I hummed as a response and kept focused on her fingers playing with my hand- "Maybe we can ask her to help you take a bath."

I wide opened my eyes at those words and noticed how my best friend was blushing.

- "What?"- she chuckled at my reaction- "I can take a bath on my own!"

- "Really? You should consider it then"- she stuck out her tongue to me and giggled- "Though your two days beard is cute"- she ran her fingers along my jaw and sent shivers all over my body. The proximity felt so new, yet incredibly natural, almost familiar.

- "Thanks?"- I answered with a question 'cos I had no idea what else to do. I just stayed still and looked into her eyes. She didn't say another word either. Her eyes were following her fingers, playing with my jawbone slowly.

I wanted to move a little closer to her and hug her, maybe. But I couldn't. Not only because I physically couldn't move without crying, but because her phone rang and made her jump on the bed.

- "Hey! Paco, how are you?"- I heard her pick up the phone in the living room and walk back to me, holding another bottle of Gatorade.

- "No, I'm on a case. In New York. I don't know how long, I wish I could predict how long it's gonna take to catch a fucking serial killer, but I can't."

I looked at her as she walked around the room, talking with Frank. Of course, it was him. She always called him Paco. I slowly sat down on the bed and sighed. I was paranoid about the shower. Maybe I stank. I hadn't bathed since... Saturday. Obviously, I smelled terrible. I had been sweating all night long.

I made my best effort and walked to the bathroom. Everything hurt. When I finally managed to take off my pajamas and ran the shower, I was weary. But the warm water made me feel a lot better.

I took a long shower. Not just because I wanted to stay forever under the warm water, but because I couldn't really move that fast. I washed my hair and considered shaving. But I didn't have a razor on hand, and if (Y/N) liked my tiny beard, I decided to keep it.

- "Hey! everything ok?"- (Y/N) asked from the other side of the door.

- "Yes, I'm ok"- she walked in, and I froze.

- "Ok, I'll leave a clean towel next to the shower, ok? It's warm"

- "Thank you."

I stayed still under the water until she exited the bathroom and nearly held my breath at the thought of her being there with me. It was too much, and to be honest, I was too weak to overthink it. But I knew it was going to be a thought that would hunt me back home.

(Y/N)'s point of view

I sat on the couch and drank my tea after leaving the towel for Spencer in the bathroom. My heart was racing, and that shouldn't be happening. Why was I so affected by my best friend? I knew I was worried, and all my attention was focused on him, but that didn't explain why my stomach fluttered when I looked at him.

- "Put your shit together!!"- I yelled/whispered to myself and shook my head.

Frank had called to know about Spencer, but I had to lie and act like I was at work. I couldn't just tell him what was going on in front of Reid. So I texted him the short version of the fact, and he asked me to keep him posted. He also told me he was going to keep Mikey and Lu away from my apartment those days.

Spencer took a shower and sat with me on the couch. I had cleaned the vomit from the carpet and kept a bucket near in case he felt sick. We read in silence for a while, and I kept checking on him every few minutes. He was nervous and looked anxious. I wasn't going to ask him what was wrong, 'cos it was obvious he was craving Dilaudid, and to be honest, I was scared he might start yelling and getting violent. So, I stood up and prepared him a smoothie. I knew he hated healthy eating, especially salads, but he was doomed. He had to put some vitamins in his body.

He looked at me disgusted as I gave him the glass but drank it quietly and gave it back in a minute. I was impressed.

He threw it up in less than ten minutes, though. So far, not so good.

He also vomited lunch. I knew his whole body ached, so I put on a Star Trek DVD to keep his mind busy in anything else. When the nurse came, she did a brief check-up and told me to continue with the same diet and ibuprofen in case of severe pain. We had to put an eye on dehydration. She also suggested we'd engage in some physical activity as soon as he felt better. Walks to the park were her recommendation.

I couldn't imagine Spencer walking out of the house under those conditions, but I had high hopes by the end of that week, he was going to feel much better.

The second night was worse than the first because his body aches hit him harder. He rolled in bed in pain, shivering. I stayed with him until late, trying to soothe him. I read and caressed his sweated hair. At a certain point, I just sat there with his head on my legs, and he started crying. His tears soaking my legs and his sobs breaking my heart.

I didn't know what to say. I don't know if there was anything to be said at that moment. So I just leaned in and kissed Spencer's temple. I rocked him like a baby and did my best to calm him down. He just kept crying on and on, tearing my soul apart. I couldn't handle watching him like that. I didn't know what to do to help him feel better too. All I could do was be with him throughout the process and hold him tight to make sure I kept all his pieces together. I didn't want him to fall apart.

When I opened my eyes the following day, Spencer was asleep in front of me. He was pale, and the rings under his eyes were darker than ever. But at least, he was finally sleeping.

I stared at him for a few minutes, planning the day. But soon, I realized I couldn't concentrate. I just looked at him. I knew my friend was handsome, even when he always argued when I let him know. But at that moment, he made my heart beat faster. His hair was messy and with some curls. His brown beard kept growing. I had never seen Spencer with facial hair, and I loved it. I wanted to tell him to keep it, but then I thought it might be inappropriate. Not that telling him was wrong, but what he was making me feel.

I refused to think I had a crush on my friend. Because I didn't. I was just worried sick for him, and my head was confused. It wasn't the time to think about that. I had to be a good friend and help Reid. His wellbeing was all that mattered to me.

So I got out of bed and ran to the kitchen to make sure everything was ready. I cooked breakfast and lunch, cleaned, and took a quick shower. I was walking out of the bathroom in my clean clothes when Spencer woke up. He rolled in bed and looked at me, confused.

- "Hey, how are you feeling, honey?"- I whispered and sat next to him on the bed. He yawned and nodded.

- "Better."

- "Great, I hope you are hungry, 'cos breakfast is ready"- he scratched his head and yawned again. And I swear, I had to mentally slap myself because I thought he looked adorable and couldn't stop staring.

- "Do you want to take a shower?"- I asked him and stood up. I had to do anything to keep me from being stupid- "I can also run you a bath. I got some salts that could make you feel better. They might help with your body ache."

- "Thank you"- he whispered and sat down. He just looked at me in silence as I kept myself busy opening curtains, folding blankets, and cleaning the bathroom, to get it ready for him

- "Did you sleep?"- he asked me suddenly- "You look tired."

- "Nah, I'm ok. I think I went too heavy on the coffee earlier."

- "How long have you been up?"- I looked at my wristwatch and sighed.

- "A couple of hours."

It was ten. I got up at eight. Spencer had finally fallen asleep at five. It didn't take a genius to see I hadn't slept properly.

- "Why don't you nap?"- he asked and tapped on the bed- "You look like you could use some more sleep"- that was tempting, I won't deny it. But no. I couldn't.

- "Tell you what, why don't you eat something and then we can watch a movie together?"- Spencer nodded and moved slowly. That's when I remembered he felt like shit.

- "Come here"- I stood by his side and held his hands- "Can you stand up?"

- "Yes"- he whispered and tried to move on his own. His legs were shaking, and so were his hands. He did his best to stand up, and after a few tries on his own, he succeeded. But after giving two steps alone, he stumbled and nearly fell.

- "I've got you!"- I said, wrapping my arms around him and keeping him steady. His whole face was red, in anger maybe, or embarrassment. I didn't want to push him to talk or do anything. I just made sure he wouldn't fall.

- "Wanna stay in bed?"- I suggested

- "No"- he murmured and took a step ahead

- "Ok, let's go to the living room then."

Spencer didn't reply. I was sure he was ashamed and upset. I just walked with him to the living room, trying to think of anything else: anything but the butterflies in my stomach.

It was getting harder to ignore the mental fuzziness I felt each time I looked at him. But I refused to think about it. It wasn't the right time.

But it got worse that evening.

We spent the whole day on my sofa, napping, reading, and watching Star Trek. I was getting dinner ready when Spencer's phone rang. We both stayed still. He looked at me with widened eyes, almost scared. I smiled and walked to my room to get the phone. It was JJ.

I'm not proud to say it, but an overwhelming sensation of insecurity and concern filled my body. Why was JJ calling Spencer? Were they closer than I thought? I don't know why I kept thinking all those things.

- "It's JJ"- I announced and gave him his phone. He hesitated for a moment and finally picked up. I walked back to the kitchen and poured myself a glass of water. What was wrong with me?

- "Mom is fine, thank you for calling"- I heard him say and closed my eyes. I had to focus on the food. I had to focus on helping him get better.

Why was I so upset JJ had called him? It was nice to know more people cared about him. Not as much as I did, of course.

- "Sure, I tell her. I'll see you in a couple of days"

I walked back to the living room carrying a tray with soup and salads. Spencer sat down properly and looked at me with a small smile.

- "I know you hate veggies, but you are doomed"- I whispered, reading his mind- "These are packed with all the vitamins and minerals your body needs."

- "Thank you"- he murmured and kept his eyes on me until I sat next to him and grabbed my bowl.

- "How was JJ?"- I had to ask. He cleared his throat and played with the lettuce on his dish for a moment before saying.

- "She was ok. She wanted to know if everything was ok with my mom."

- "Oh"- I didn't know what else to say. I tried no to think about it anymore, 'cos it was useless.

- "I kind of felt bad everybody swallowed our story"- Spencer confessed and sighed.

- "That's because I make up the best lies, honey,"- I smiled at him, but he just stared- "Everything ok?"

- "I'm not hungry"

- "Come on, at least have the soup, please?"

- "I don't want to barf all over your carpet, again"- he whispered and kept playing with the lettuce.

- "What if I tell you I made brownies? and you can have a brownie if you eat the soup?"- Spencer bit his lips and shook his head.

- "Why are you treating me like a kid?"

- "I am not! I'm blackmailing you with sugar as I would do under any other circumstance."-

And I wasn't lying. I would definitely try to force him to eat or do something with the promise of a brownie.

- "So? What do you say? Eat that soup, and we'll have brownies... with vanilla ice cream."

Reid stared into my eyes, and I held my breath. He was so pale, so thin. And yet, so beautiful.

- "If I vomit..."

- "If you vomit, you vomit. No hard feelings"- I smiled and tapped on his leg- "Besides, you need to get some vitamins in your body. You are too thin."

He didn't reply. He started eating slowly and kept watching Star Trek in silence.

Spencer successfully ate his bowl of soup and ate a little bit of the salad. I knew he hates veggies, so I didn't push him. As a reward, I prepared a big tray with brownies with ice cream, chocolate sauce, and hot chocolate with marshmallows and put it on the coffee table in front of us. We were about to start eating when we heard a knock on the door.

- "That's the nurse"- I said and stood up quickly. But I was wrong. It was Paul.

- "Babe... hey"- he smiled at me as soon as I opened the door and tried to walk in. But I didn't let him.

- "What are you doing here?"- I stood at the door and raised an eyebrow. I knew we didn't have a bad breakup, but after what he had said that night, I was afraid he might freak out to see Spencer in his pajamas watching tv on my couch.

- "I couldn't stop thinking about what happened the other night, and..."- he made a pause and looked inside- "What are you doing?"

- "I'm having dinner"

- "Alone?"- I didn't answer- "Can I come in?"

- "No"

- "Are you with someone? are you on a date?"- Paul pushed the door and stormed into my apartment. Reid turned around and looked at him, embarrassed.

- "What the fuck do you think you are doing? get out of my house!"- I grabbed my ex-boyfriend's sleeve and stopped him.

- "Hey, Paul"- Spencer waved from the couch, looking scared. His shoulders were tightened, and his eyes wide opened.

- "What is this nerd doing here?"- Paul turned to me, ignoring my friend.

- "What are you doing here? That's the question!"

- "I wanted to apologize for what happened the other day."

- "Well, sorry to crack the news, but if this is an apology, it sucks!"- I swear, I could feel my pulse speeding- "And there is nothing to talk or forgive, we broke up, and it was ok!"

- "Yeah, and now the nerd is here to make you feel better!"

- "You have no idea what you are talking about! And would appreciate it if you stop calling him that!!"- I freaked out and clenched my fist. I was going to lose it with him.

- "Good luck with the Ice Princess here!!"- Paul yelled at Reid- "If you are lucky, she is gonna hug you once!!"

- "Get out!"- I stood by the open door and slammed it as soon as he had left. My hands were shaking, my lips were quivering, and my eyes were tearing up.

- "Are you... are you ok?"- Spencer stood up and walked to me. He stumbled a little but managed to hold me. I didn't reply. I just broke into tears.

Why was I crying if I was glad I had broken up with Paul? Why was I so upset to see him at my house? Why was I shaking in anger?

Maybe I was just human, and I was tired of all the shit. Perhaps I was just sleepy or stressed with everything going on with Reid. Or the fact he kept thinking I had feelings for my best friend was too much for me.

Even the fact he called me "Ice Princess" hurt me. Yes, I wasn't a very physical person with him. But that was just because I wasn't in love with him.

For a few minutes, I just cried, soaking Spencer's pajamas as he held me tight, just like I had done for him the night before.

- "I'm sorry"- I whispered and sighed. I let him go and fixed my hair- "I shouldn't let Paul affect me so much, but I wasn't expecting to see him."

- "What happened?"- Spencer held my hand and took me to the couch with him. He handed me a dish with brownie and melted ice cream, and a spoon.

- "We broke up a few days ago."- my best friend looked at me in silence as his shaky thumb wiped off the tears on my cheeks.

- "I was actually planning dinner with the guys to give them the news, 'cos I knew they would like to celebrate... but that doesn't matter. You were right; I didn't love him. I don't know why I was still dating him."

- "I'm sorry"- he whispered and carefully wrapped me on a blanket.

- "Don't be. I really wanted to break up with him. I was just scared to lose who I used to be..."

- "You are never going to lose who you are, (Y/N)"- Spencer whispered and cut me a smile- "Frankie, Lu, and Mikey would never let that happen"- I sighed and nodded- "I won't let that happen either."

- "Thank you, honey"- I grabbed the spoon and took a big piece of brownie- "You know what bothers me? I don't know why I'm crying so much! I'm not sad! I'm angry!"

- "Actually, when you get mad, your body produces a flood of hormones that stimulate strong reactions in your body, like racing your heart and getting sweaty palms. In response to the elevated stress level, crying stimulates the release of oxytocin and prolactin. These two chemicals can bring your heart rate down and otherwise calm you after a stressful event."

- "Well, my fucking body makes me look weak and stupid!"

- "You could never look weak..."- Spencer hesitated for a second. It felt like he wanted to add something to those words but finally just stayed quiet.

- "Thank you, honey bunny. You are the best friend I could ever ask for."

- "Don't say that. You are the best friend I could have ever asked for."

We just stared for a few seconds. His eyes on mine, my hands still shaking, though I didn't know why.

It was a moment I knew I could never forget, 'cos it was the moment I first considered kissing Spencer.

It was a thought that only lasted for a second, but it was there. And like a seed planted on my brain, once I knew it was there, it could only grow and hunt me, like a ghost.

Spencer's point of view

My heart ached to see (Y/N) crying because of an asshole who never deserved her. And it also jumped of joy knowing she was no longer dating that jerk. I knew I could never make a move on her, but just to know she wasn't stuck with him made me happy.

But the fact she had gone through all that alone and didn't even talk about it for four days because she was too busy taking care of me made me feel awful. I didn't deserve any of that.

- "How are you feeling?"- she whispered and smiled at me after finishing her brownie- "Want me to heat your cocoa?"

- "I'm ok, thank you"

I stared at her in silence and decided to make the boldest move I have ever made with her, and opened my arm for her so that she could cuddle. She didn't hesitate and moved closer. I wrapped an arm around her, and her head rested on my chest. And trying not to make it look like a big deal, I also held her hand and caressed her skin, tracing random patterns on it.

- "I'm sorry for being such a bad friend"- I said and kissed the top of her head. I didn't plan it. I just did it. And it felt so good.

- "Don't say that."

- "I've been an asshole since Tobias."

- "You haven't... I mean, you have, but you had your reasons"- she made a pause and sighed. I knew something was bothering her, and I was hoping it wasn't our position because I loved how her warm body felt against mine.

- "Honey?"- she whispered, and I hummed as a response- "Would you call me a cold person?"

- "Never..."

- "I know I'm not a physical person, but..."

- "Me neither, and look at us"- I pointed out the obvious, and she softly giggled. He raised her head from my chest and turned to look at me. I swear all I could think of that minute was kissing her.

- "I am more loving with you than I ever was with Paul"- she confessed and sighed. Her eyes were sad. Clearly, what he had said to her had affected her more than she wanted to admit.

- "He didn't deserve it anyway"- she added and moved back to lay her head on my chest- "You do."

And after that, we just stayed like that, hugged on the couch, until the nurse knocked on the door.

- "You look much better"- I smiled at the nurse and nodded- "Still nauseous?"

- "Yes, but not as much as yesterday"- I whispered and looked at her, wrapping the blood pressure cuff around my arm, right next to all the marks I left with the needles. I wanted to hide them from everyone, and I thanked (Y/N) wasn't in the room. Of all people, she was the one I didn't want to see those marks the most.

- "They are going to fade soon"- the nurse whispered. I wasn't too subtle with my reaction, I guess. I just nodded and looked away.

- "Your girlfriend is taking excellent care of you. You are a fortunate guy"- I'm sure I blushed and turned to her immediately.

- "She... she is... she is not my girlfriend"- I felt I needed to explain it, I don't know why.

- "Really?"- and the nurse seemed to be in shock- "She surely loves you."

- "She is my best friend"- I whispered and felt how my heart was nearly bursting inside my chest.

- "You are lucky to have her"- she added, and I agreed.

I knew I was lucky. Even when (Y/N) wasn't my girlfriend, I knew I had to be with her. Always.

After thirteen days of home detox, I was back to being my old self again. I felt happy, healthy, and strong. I don't think I had ever felt that good before.

I loved spending those days with (Y/N), and I was pretty bummed I had to go back to my apartment the next day. The fact I had lived with her for two weeks was incredible. I knew it all happened under dark and miserable circumstances, but it had been life-changing.

Now I knew everything I wanted to know about her to help me make her day better and all her little quirks. Her favorite brands of tea, her favorite snacks. How she liked to take the last cup of tea of the day in bed, reading. Her favorite bands. How she always cooked singing. She always slept on her left side. And how after all those days, we would be so comfortable together, we would cuddle naturally, even without asking.

I don't want to overreact, but it was pretty heavenly to me, like the sensation I felt with the romantic poems mom used to read to me when I was little. Just don't tell anyone I said that.

- "Ok, dinner is ready"- (Y/N) announced and took the lasagna from the oven. I held a bowl of salad and walked with her to the dining room.

- "What do you wanna drink?"

- "A glass of wine, you?"

- "Red or white?"- I asked her and walked back to the kitchen. I didn't even wait for her answer. I took the white and two glasses. She smiled and sat down.

- "This looks amazing, (Y/N)"- and I wasn't lying.

- "Wait until you see dessert, we have three colors of Jell-O"- the fact she knew I loved jello wasn't what got me. It was how happy she looked to spoil me with my favorite dessert.

- "Thank you for cooking all my favorite meals."

- "You are welcome, honey bunny"- I smiled at her and poured a glass of wine for her and one for me.

- "Can I ask you something?"- I whispered, and she nodded- "Why do you call me honey bunny?"- she looked from her dish and giggled.

- "It took you forever to ask."

- "Well... I didn't want you to think I didn't like it..."

- "You don't?"- I wide opened my eyes and shook my head frenetically.

- "No! I love it! I just... don't know... where does it come from? You said I gave you the "honey bunny" vibes, but... what does that mean?"- (Y/N) chewed her lasagna and looked at me.

- "Well, I always loved that nickname. I thought it was adorable and never used it on anyone because no one ever gave me that vibe. I had never met my honey bunny before."

"My Honey Bunny." That woman was killing me, and she had no idea.

- "And I took it from Pulp Fiction"- she finally confessed and waited for my reaction- "Have you seen it?"

- "No"- I admitted and shrugged.

- "Then we are watching it after dinner tonight"- (Y/N) decided, and I nodded- "You still don't give me a nickname, by the way."

She had no idea, but I had a list of nicknames for her. I had written all the cute names I wanted to call on a notebook I kept in my satchel. But I didn't dare. I could call her cute names in my head all the time, but never out loud.

- "You don't have to do it if you don't want to, by the way"- she added and kept eating.

- "I have never done it before"- I accepted, feeling embarrassed- "Sorry."

- "Why are you sorry?"

- "I don't want you to think I don't want to call you by a loving nickname. I just..."

- "Come on, how would you call me? Do I give you any nickname vibe?"- I chuckled, and she smiled childishly.

- "I really like the story behind "nugget." I think it's brilliant"- she shook her head, and her cheeks blushed- "But for you... I think I have three options."

- "So you've given it some thoughts!"- I nodded and took a sip of wine- "Let me hear them."

- "Well... after that case in Oregon when you got lost in the woods, I thought I could call you "chipmunk"- I confessed and watched her face light up.

- "I love that!"

- "Really?"- I chuckled and looked at her holding my breath- "Well... then I remembered how we became friends and your obsession with cupcakes, so I thought I could call you that."

- "I love that too!!"

- "And..."- since I was honest, I took it a little further- "After last Halloween, and all the carving we did, and our movie marathon, I thought "pumpkin" was pretty sweet too."

(Y/N) sighed and smiled at me, her cheeks blushing and her eyes shining.

- "They are all awesome, so you should use them all, and I can look for more nicknames for you"- I simply stared at her and felt how my heart melted.

- "Ok"- I whispered, and she raised an eyebrow playfully.

- "Ok, what?"

- "Ok... pumpkin"- I whispered and held my breath at the sound of those words leaving my lips.

She really didn't have a clue about what she did to me.

DIWK Taglist:

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Spencer taglist

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General Taglist

@spenxerslut @ash19871962 @babebenhardy

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Do you want to be on the taglist or ramble about this chapter with me? Just send me a message here.

Next update: May 19th, 2021

[aph-honk-kong]

Passing Seasons

Harald gets a taste of opulence the moment he touches down on Hong Kong. [A continuation of this.] [Written for @aphasiaweek with a focus on Taiwan, Macau and Hong Kong.]

  He probably should’ve noticed the moment they got on the plane.

  Even though Harald and his brother have had the privilege of travelling to a different country once a year since they were young, all of their flights have been spent taking the economy class. But on the flight to Hong Kong, he and Leon were accosted by a smiling flight attendant right at Heathrow Airport and lead to the very front of their plane, where they have their own private suite.

  He’s in said suite now, the divider up between him and his boyfriend while he calls Stellan before takeoff.

  “This flight probably costs more than what I make in a year!” He exclaims. “Leon said the tickets probably got mixed up or something, but in that case it’s the luckiest damn mixup ever. Look at this place!” Harald moves his phone around to display his surroundings. “The seats are so soft I could melt into them.”

  On his phone, Stellan’s eyes widen at the sight of the cabin. “My goodness, I’ve lived in college dorms smaller than that.”

  “I know, right? Leon’s on the other side of this divider, having a pre-flight cocktail. I didn’t even know that was a thing, for fuck’s sake! Imagine getting drunk before you’re even in the air.”

  “Did Leon tell you where the two of you will be staying, by the way?”

  “I think we’re staying in a hotel,” he replies. “He’s been really secretive about this trip, even though it’s so important.”

  Stellan frowns. “Oh, that’s not good. Has he been acting differently lately?”

  “No, not really. But I’m a little nervous, going so far away while knowing so little.”

  “That’s natural. Remember to look out for yourself, especially since you don’t know much about Leon’s family and friends in Hong Kong.”

  The intercom crackles above. “Cabin crew, prepare for takeoff.”

  “Take care.” Stellan’s eyes crinkle as he gives a rare smile. “Call me if anything happens, okay? Even if it’s three in the morning for me I’ll get up to listen.”

  “Thanks, Stell. I have to go now, but I’ll call again when I get to Hong Kong. See you.”

  “Bye.”

  He lowers the divider in the cabin after he’s hung up. “I’m still in shock,” Harald tells Leon. “How on earth did the airline mess up this much to our favour?”

  “We’re just lucky, I guess.” Leon slides him a flute of champagne, eyes already slightly-glazed over. “It’s a good start to our trip. You nervous?”

  “A little,” he admits. “It’ll be my first time to Asia, for one, and I’ll be meeting all your old friends and your family. What if they don’t like me?”

  Leon cups his cheek, smiling tipsily. “They’re all going to love you, I promise.”

  The aircraft rumbles and begins to move. He leans over to nuzzle his neck. “If you say so.”

...

  Thirteen hours later, a very disoriented Harald clings on to Leon’s arm while they stumble through the Hong Kong International Airport. Groups of people are milling around, searching for the washroom, baggage pickup or both. Despite not having been back in years, Leon seems to know his way around perfectly and manages to get the two of them out of the airport without a hitch.

  A neatly-dressed lady is waiting for them outside the airport, standing by a limousine with a pleasant smile. “Welcome to Hong Kong, Mr. Wang and Mr. Grieg,” she greets. “We are here to take you to the Four Seasons Hotel. Would you like us to help you with your luggage?”

  “Wait, wh - “

  “Yes, please.” Leon nods to their cart of suitcases, and a group of workers immediately exit the limousine to pick them up. “Thank you very much.”

  “Leon, what the hell is going on?” He hisses. “Isn’t the Four Seasons one of Hong Kong’s most expensive - “

  “Just relax, babe.” He pecks Harald on the forehead. “I know what I’m doing.”

  He leads him into the limousine and sits him down on the plush velvet seat. Harald stares out the window, as though about to try and escape any moment. “Is this another mixup?”

  “I hope not.” Leon places his hand over his and smiles. “I just wanted you to be able to stay at the best place possible while here.”

  He gapes at the limousine, at the people still carrying their suitcases and stowing them in the trunk. “How much did all this cost?”

  Leon fidgets, suddenly looking down. “Uh...” he mumbles, “thirteen thousand six hundred pounds - “

  “What - “

  “ - per night.”

  “WHAT?” He nearly leaps out of his seat. “We can’t afford this! How long did you save up for the stay? Did you have to sell anything? How deep in debt are we? What the flying, soaring, somersaulting shit - “

  “Harald!” Leon wraps an arm around him. “I promise we’re not bankrupt or anything like that. I just happen to be friends with some people who work at the hotel, and they managed to get us a special discount. Really, you don’t have to worry about it.”

  “You could’ve at least warned me. If I’d known we’d be picked up in a limo, I wouldn’t have boarded the plane looking like a hungover college kid.”

  “I think you look as cute as ever.”

  “Shut up.”

  They begin to drive away from the airport. Harald can’t help perking up to look out the window, staring in awe at the massive white bridge they leave Lantau Island on, then the rolling countryside mingling with the occasional building. 

  They pass schools, shipping ports, shopping malls galore, but the most stunning sight is that of Hong Kong Island. Soaring skyscrapers are a massive contrast to the few colonial buildings left, and everywhere, pedestrians of all kinds mill around. 

  Leon snuggles into him, squashing him against the window. “So what do you think?”

  “It’s beautiful.” They pass a mall that looks like a miniature version of New York’s Times Square. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”

  “Wait ‘til you see our hotel.”

  The limo pulls up in front of the Four Seasons and Harald’s jaw drops. This can’t be their hotel, it just can’t. The representative opens the door for them and leads them into the grand, gleaming building while their luggage is being taken care of. Still in shock, Harald steps into the stunning lobby and looks around. Not even the W Hotel, reputed as one of London’s best hotels, is this extravagant.

  The elevator is transparent, letting them look out onto the busy streets of Wan Chai. He can’t stop pinching himself, for this breathtaking building can’t be where he’s staying.

  The biggest shock comes when they open the door to their suite.

  “What is this?” Harald can’t even bring himself to step inside. The suite looks more like the living apartments of some Western monarch of old, with plush, elegantly-carved furniture, floor-to-ceiling windows showing the view and an actual chandelier hanging from the painted ceiling. Their suitcases are already there, opened up in their bedroom and waiting to be unpacked. 

  Leon is already making himself comfortable, pulling his clothes out of his suitcase and picking some out to wear after his shower. He looks at Harald, who’s still partially in shock. “What’re you waiting for?”

  He gingerly enters the suite, eyes wide. He can’t even speak.

  While Leon busies himself with showering, Harald takes out his phone and calls his brother. 

  “How was your flight?” Is the first thing Stellan asks after picking up.

  “It was amazing. The food was great, for one, and in the middle of the flight the attendants flattened my seat into a bed. But that’s not the point.” Harald flips his phone’s camera around and moves it around his room. “This is the hotel suite Leon booked for us!”

  He sits in silence for a while, quietly observing the room. “Well,” he finally says, “that’s certainly... something.”

  “It’s a lot.”

  “How much did this cost?”

  “Too much, that’s for sure.” Harald glances at the bathroom. He’ll have to shower after Leon. “Thankfully Leon has friends here and pulled some strings so we can stay here cheaper.”

  Stellan glances at something out of the camera - probably his husband - and waves him away. “It should be about three in the afternoon in Hong Kong right now. What do you have planned for the rest of the day?”

  “I’m going to shower first. How ‘bout you?”

  “I have an interview this afternoon, but that’s about it,” he says. “Have fun in Hong Kong, okay?”

  “I will. Good luck in your interview.”

  They chat for a while more before Leon is finally done with his shower and it’s his turn to freshen up. Even the bathroom is fancy - everything’s made of marble, the towels are still-warm and the soap fragrant. He almost wants to stay in there forever until he remembers he has a city to explore.

  Leon is on his phone, sitting on their massive bed when he comes out. “My brother and a friend of mine are meeting us at the hotel lobby in five minutes.”

  “Your friend?”

  “Her name’s Ling,” he explains. “She’s from Taiwan and pretty famous in the fashion world - her store opened a branch in Milan just last month.”

  “Ooh.” Harald flops down next to him. The sheets are impossibly soft. “Woah, this is the best bed I’ve ever slept in.”

  “Don’t get too comfortable,” Leon jokes. “We have go to down to the lobby.”

  He reluctantly gets up from the bed and follows him out of the suite.

 ...

  Vicente and Ling are waiting for them at the doors of the hotel. Leon waves at them, hand in hand with his boyfriend, and power-walks towards them as fast as he can without looking like he’s running. 

  “Jia Lin!” Ling rushes forward and envelopes him in a hug, laughing, “it’s been too long! You’re way taller now and your hair’s no longer a disaster but I see you still have shit fashion sense!”

  His brother ruffles his hair. “Well, you can’t blame him. Londoners are even worse.”

  Leon squirms out of Ling’s arms. “Why is it that the first thing you two do after seeing me is to roast me?”

  “Is that your boyfriend?” She abandons Leon to approach Harald. “Hello there! Welcome to Hong Kong!”

  With a skittish glance at him, Harald manages a smile. “Hi. My name’s Harald, and it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  “No need to be so formal lah, just saying ‘hi’ is enough.” Ling stops in front of him, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “I’m Yue Ling, but people always manage to mess up ‘Yue’ despite it being a three-letter word so just call me Ling.”

  “Uh, sure.”

  Vicente gives Leon another slap on the shoulder before going to greet Harald. “Hi again. I don’t think you forgot who I am, right?”

  “No, who are you?”

  “Shut up.” 

  “So!” Leon interrupts. “Where do you want to go?”

  Ling turns to him. “Shouldn’t you be the one deciding that? You’re the one who hasn’t been back for a while.” 

  Where to go first? There are so many old spots he simply has to revisit, but what sort of place will give Harald a good impression of his home city? Then his stomach growls. “I say we go eat something first.”

  “Why don’t we go to Chu’s, then?” Vicente suggests.

  “It’s still up?”

  “Of course. I don’t think anyone would have the heart to close that place down.”

  “Hell yeah.” Leon goes to take Harald’s hand, lacing their fingers together. “I haven’t had their milk tea in, like, forever.”

  Fifteen minutes later, the four of them are seated on rickety plastic chairs around a table, surrounded by shouting customers and waiters alike. He stares at the menu flattened to the table by the pane of glass and tries to decide exactly what he should order. These are foods he won’t be able to find anywhere outside Hong Kong, from garlic-fried noodles to fresh fishballs to egg custard that’s actually good, and every one of them gives him a pang of nostalgia.

  Harald is pressed up next to him, squinting at the characters. “I understand all these words separately.”

  He points at one of the dishes. “That one’s Hong Kong-style French toast. The one next to it is a, uh...” How do you translate this into English? “A toasted bun with condensed milk.”

  They place their orders soon after. It feels amazing to be able to speak Cantonese again, to be surrounded by his mother tongue like a warm blanket. The chatter of the restaurant makes him feel like a secondary school student again, having afternoon tea after a long day of class. Leon takes a sip of his creamy milk tea and indulges himself with the memories for a while. 

  His phone rings in the middle of one of Vicente’s story. He looks at his screen, rolling his eyes when he realises it’s Yao. “Hello?”

  “Ka Long! You’re back in Hong Kong now, right?”

  “Yeah. I’m coming over for dinner tonight in case you forgot.”

  “I know, I know. Did you bring that boyfriend of yours along?”

  How did Yao know he brought Harald over? Better not to question. Leon sighs. “Yes.”

  “What’s his full name?”

  “Harald Grieg.”

  “Aiyah, you brought a gwai zai home?”

  He grits his teeth. “Why does it matter if he’s a Westerner or not?”

  “No, no, it doesn’t. I’m just surprised, that’s all. What does he do for a living?”

  “He’s the head chef at the Dragon Room.”

  “Really now?” Yao says incredulously. “Very impressive. Educational background?”

  “He didn’t go to university - “

  “HE DROPPED OUT!?”

  “No, he made the decision not to go.” Leon shoots his boyfriend an apologetic look even though he knows he can’t understand the conversation. “He went to culinary school and got a diploma.”

  “Which culinary school?”

  “No clue.”

  “Okay, sure. What’s his net worth? If you don’t know, what’s his family’s?”

  “I don’t know that either.”

  “How many houses does he own?”

  Leon blinks. Only his brother would want to know his partners’ property statistics. He prods Harald. “This is a stupid question, but how many houses does your family own?”

  “There’s the house in Trondheim, which is the one my brother’s living in, and we have a summer home in Akureyri. Why do you ask?”

  “Nothing, nothing.” He parrots that information to Yao. 

  “Only two houses?” Yao repeats, disappointed. Leon resists the urge to throw his phone. “How many cars, then?”

  “One.”

  “Ugh, of course. Boats?”

  He pokes Harald again. “Another stupid question, but do you have any boats?”

  “Stellan and I have a motorboat we used to go out to sea with,” he replies. “What’s with you suddenly taking interest in the stuff I own?”

  “It’s nothing, really.” Leon pecks him on the forehead. Across the table, Ling makes a face. He tells Yao over the phone, “he has a motorboat.”

  “No yachts?”

  “No yachts,” Leon confirms. 

  There’s silence on the other side for a long time. Then Yao finally asks quietly, “so you’re dating someone with no university education, two houses, one car and only one boat?”

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake!” He half-shouts in English. Some people from other tables turn to stare at him. “Who cares if Harald’s not a multibillionaire? I love him, and that’s that!”

  “He doesn’t even have a yacht!”

  One more comment on Harald’s lack of yachts and I will throw this phone across the room, Leon seethes internally. “Quit your judging for now. You can make up your mind when Harald comes over for dinner tonight.”

[kbstories]

impression//expression

“It’s not like Kirishima had come all this way to U.A. to immediately break the promise he made to himself upon arrival.

It’s just that Bakugou is as feral as they come, and the moment Kirishima recognizes it’s fear he felt crawling up his spine that day, he makes it his personal mission to face it head-on until it’s gone.”

(Or: Being friends with Bakugou Katsuki is anything but a linear experience. Kirishima Eijirou would have it no other way.)

Tags: Kirishima POV, Developing Friendships, Protective Baku, Soft Baku, Stargazing

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Minor content warning for (discussions of) self-esteem issues. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 6. Chapter 7. Chapter 8. Chapter 9.

***

“Bakugou.”

With an absent hum, Bakugou turns the page, squints, scribbles down a line in his neat, tight handwriting. A piece of black fabric separates his hand from the paper, the same wrapped around his pen, too.

Kirishima leans forward, over his own book-and-notepad combination dotted with scrawled comments and colorful post-it notes. It’s been an hour since any of it has made sense to him.

“Bakuuu. C’mon.”

A sigh, annoyed. Another line is added. Then: “The fuck d’you want?”

It takes a few seconds until the silence has stretched enough for Bakugou to look up and into Kirishima’s pleading eyes. Bakugou’s expression barely changes beyond a raised brow, unimpressed. It’s the one reserved for when Kirishima’s being especially dense – slightly more severe than muttered curses and slightly less so than that God-help-me roll of his eyes he premiered during their last study session.

Which was yesterday. Kirishima would be proud of unlocking a new Angry Bakugou Face in record time… if U.A.’s grumpiest genius wasn’t the only thing standing between him and a frankly impressive row of failed grades.

Final’s Week is brutal, even for heroes-in-training. Especially for heroes-in-training. So: Desperate times, desperate measures.

“Slap me”, Kirishima tells Bakugou, hushed in their corner of the library. “As hard as you possibly can.”

The arch of Bakugou’s brow climbs higher, utterly devastating in its wordless criticism. He says, “What”, tone Aizawa-levels of flat, and it’s not a question. It’s a command: Explain or else.

Kirishima is in no state to resist. The confession bubbles out of him in a whiny rush.

“Dude, I slept like… zero hours last night ‘cause Kami got Pokémon Colosseum – y’know, the reboot? So cool – and we kinda lost track of time. I know, I know, it was a stupid idea, I swear it was an honest mistake!”

Bakugou continues to stare as he puts down his pen and wipes his palms on the edge of his shirt. Kirishima ducks his head, hiding behind the limp strands of his hair.

“Don’t look at me like that, man. I’m seriously about two minutes from passing out here and there’s like a hundred pages of this thing I haven’t read yet, let alone understood, and oh shit Mic will hand me my ass with words tomorr–”

It all happens so quickly: Kirishima catches a blur of motion headed his way and squeaks; his skin hardens about half-way before there’s sparks and his cheek smarts, and a hissed “Motherfucker” sounds right in front of him.

The sharp slap! noise registers only after the fact, when Kirishima holds his face and Bakugou holds his hand and they both stare at each other in mutual bafflement as their skin turns red with the impact.

That moment is like glue, clear and sticky as it extends past its natural limit – then Bakugou snorts and starts to laugh, a cackling hyena-laugh that Kirishima’s never heard in full and certainly not like this, loud and unrestrained, and all hopes of holding back his own laughter is lost as he cracks up, too.

They laugh and laugh, until Kirishima’s stomach starts to cramp up and there’s the sheen of tears in Bakugou’s eyes. “Your f-fucking face”, Bakugou wheezes at some point. “Fucking bastard, you almost broke my hand! With your fucking face!”

All it does is send them into another round of hysterics.

At some point, Kirishima glimpses some of their classmates poke their head around the bookshelves secluding their study corner from the rest of the library, faces ranging from exasperated to deeply disturbed. There’s Ashido, giggling at the sight of both of them bent over and struggling to get some sort of grip, and Kaminari, who just mumbles “What the hell, guys” while straddling the line between sleep-deprived and intensely fascinated by what he’s seeing.

And hey, at least Kirishima’s really freaking awake now. There’s the problem of trying and failing to breathe without dying, his face helplessly flushed and sweating, but the world’s colors are back to being bright and sharp. Across from him, Bakugou isn’t faring much better, shaking his head and the back of his hand covering the broad smile he can’t seem to get rid of.

“Fuck you, you stupid, moronic idiot. For fuck’s sake, Kirishima.”

Kirishima rubs at his chest, the ache in his lungs starting to lessen now that he’s marginally back in control. “I’m so sorry but like”, he waves at himself and he can’t help his grin despite the stinging protest coming from his cheek. “Thanks, dude!”

“Eat a dick.” There’s no bite whatsoever in Bakugou’s grumbling as he sits back down and digs his nose into his book once more, thoroughly ignoring their flabbergasted audience.

After a moment of pantomiming what amounts to I’ll tell you later to their friends, Kirishima joins him, ready to tackle the final boss that is the English language.

*

Nitro!! (Baku 💣💥 )

yo nitro (sent 17:48)

where u at? (sent 17:48)

-

why (received 17:52)

-

why what 🤔 (sent 17:53)

OH uh to hang out? (sent 17:55)

dw dude it’s just me (sent 17:55)

-

[location] (received 18:10)

-

bakugou katsuki what are you doing in the middle of the woods??? (sending…)

NO WAY (sending…)

signal’s gone AGAIN i’m going feral (sending…)

screw it (sending…)

*

The GPS signal craps out twice more before Kirishima heaves himself onto the edge of a cliff and spots a familiar silhouette. Sheltered by a bend in the rock bed, the glow of a fire illuminates a backpack set aside, a pair of discarded hiking boots – and Bakugou, leaning against solid stone with his arms crossed behind his head.

“Took ya long enough”, he says, the lazy smirk on his lips cut in flickering shadows.

“Listen.” Kirishima wipes beads of perspiration off his temple; a spontaneous rock-climbing session by the last light of day is not what he had hoped for after hours of exhaustive quirk training. “We already have a perfectly good camp. There’s, like, leftover curry and hot springs and stuff down there.”

Bakugou scoffs. “Yeah. And a bunch of extras.”

There’s an exasperated reply on his tongue – They’re called classmates, genius. Y’know, friends? – but Kirishima knows it’s pointless to even start that debate. He snipes him with his sweaty headband instead, celebrating his own marksmanship when it hits Bakugou square in the chest with a wet thwap.

“Wha– Shitty Hair!”

“You made me climb this stupid cliff in the middle of the night. Deal with it.”

Bakugou just throws it back, the force of an explosion propelling the thing past Kirishima’s shoulder and off the mountain entirely. Kirishima watches singed white fabric disappear into the abyss, bidding it goodbye with a somber salute.

“Well, that’s lame.”

“You’re lame, fuckface.”

“Bro.”

Shaking his head, Kirishima laughs and joins him by the fire.

It’s quiet for a bit while he gets comfy and Bakugou throws a chunk of wood into the flames, sparks bursting into life immediately. This far up, the air feels… brittle, in a way, thin and cold enough Kirishima wouldn’t have been surprised to see his breath mist. The breeze ruffles the crowns of the trees around them, the rush of rustling leaves in the distance strangely soothing.

Bakugou’s gaze is lost in the night sky when he starts to speak. “Been thinking of borrowing my parents’ car and driving out here by myself. Y’know, once I got my license and shit. ‘s got some good trails, people were talking ‘bout it on those shitty hiking forums. Forums, like we’re in the fucking 2000s.”

His elbows on his knees and his head propped on his hands, Kirishima hums and looks up as well. The moon is a thin island of white in an ocean of indigo blue growing steadily darker, a myriad of stars coming out to keep her company. “Yeah?”

“Mh”, Bakugou makes around a soft breath. “Guess they’re all shit out of luck though ‘cause it’s the personal playground of pro heroes, apparently. It’s a miracle none of our idiots got fucking lost coming out here.”

‘Our idiots’, huh? Kirishima nudges his chin lower and into his palms to hide his smile. “Kinda far of a trip to make just for some hiking, isn’t it?”

A casual shrug, followed by a nod upwards. “Not for this. The lodge is the only structure for miles in any direction and even with us here, it’s got fuck all on an entire city. Get it?”

“Yeah! No light pollution, right?”

“Yup”, Bakugou confirms, popping the ‘p’. A small grin is shot Kirishima’s way, teasing rather than mocking. “What’s this, huh? Don’t tell me you paid attention in fucking physics after all.”

Kirishima breathes an offended huff, mock-hurt.

“Pshh, please. Y’know how everyone has that one niche thing they randomly obsessed over as a kid? That was me with astronomy. Back in Middle School I had like, a huge model of all the planets in my room and my favorite constellations mapped across the ceiling with those glow-in-the-dark stars. Years of useless knowledge, all stored right here.”

Kirishima’s thumb taps his forehead as he smiles at Bakugou; Bakugou’s lips pull into a smile of his own, small but there. When he turns back to the stars, Kirishima does the same, sighing wistfully.

“If Thirteen’s class were just about that I’d freaking ace it, dude. I get that I’m kinda dumb with literally anything else, but space is my jam. Did you know that–”

“You’re not.”

The train of thought Kirishima was about to gleefully jump onto screeches to a halt. “…huh?”

Bakugou frowns at him. “You’re not”, a vague wave in his general direction, “stupid or whatever.”

Perhaps the dumbfounded blinking Kirishima’s doing in response is already enough to prove Bakugou wrong on that. Still, Kirishima sits up a bit straighter, eyebrows pulling together tightly.

“Um. I appreciate you saying that, bro, but I’m only here ‘cause Aizawa decided to get in touch with his merciful side after all. Like, Cementoss totally wiped the floor with me back home. There’s no point in lying to myself about that.”

“So you’re calling me a fucking liar, is that it?”

“Huh?”

Kirishima can only watch as Bakugou’s mouth twists beyond the usual doom and gloom and into something… frustrated. Genuinely annoyed. An iron weight settles in Kirishima’s gut, heavy and hard to ignore. “I didn’t– Look, man, can we not fight over this? I’m just saying I wanna face my mistakes and do better, that’s all.”

“Then say it!”

There’s a severity to the words that catches Kirishima off guard. Bakugou is staring him down with eyes so intense they possess their own gravitational pull, closer to black than crimson in the fire’s light–

Kirishima likes to think he knows Bakugou, at least a little. What makes him tick, what makes him angry – because there is a reason and a rhyme to his anger, a pattern to the things that set him off that Kirishima has yet to properly figure out. It’s just that Kirishima isn’t usually one of those things, not anymore.

“You lost me, Baku”, he admits, quietly, after a beat or two of tense silence. “What do you mean?”

Bakugou sighs, a harsh noise between them. The deep breath afterwards is new, however, a sharp inhale followed by a calmer exhale before Bakugou points at him, a wordless listen up.

“Just– Okay. You fucked up and wanna learn from it? Cool, fucking say that then. Not some bullshit about being too dumb to do shit ‘cause you’re not. Fuck right off with that.”

Mouth opening, Kirishima is stopped by a flurry of firecracker sparks and a terse growl of “Shut the hell up, I’m not done.” Finally, Bakugou’s look snaps elsewhere, one sock-clad foot kicking at a loose rock in clear irritation.

“Studying isn’t your strength, who gives a fuck? You got into U.A. top-fucking-two, you’re one of the only capable fuckers around and if you seriously think you don’t deserve to be here because Cementoss got lucky one fucking time then you got another thing coming.”

Kirishima sits there in a state of mild shock until Bakugou huffs and glares at him again. The threat behind it is ridiculously empty considering the impromptu speech he just gave and holy shit, Bakugou Katsuki is praising him. Kirishima Eijirou.

He might actually cry.

“What? You’re competition, bitch, so don’t make me a fucking liar by pretending otherwise.”

Scratch that, tears are definitely part of the picture now.

Wet-rimmed eyes and a quiet sniff, that’s as far as Kirishima gets before Bakugou’s expression suddenly falls, crestfallen to an almost comical degree. Kirishima does laugh then, a watery little chuckle that doesn’t seem to make things much better, either.

“Sorry, just… Damn Nitro, I think that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me. You really think so?”

And okay, yup, that’s a real glare, this time. Bakugou throws up his hands. “You’re so– Urgh. Did I fucking stutter?”

Kirishima rubs the moisture out of his eyes and smiles. “Nope.” Faint embarrassment heats his cheeks; he focuses on the warmth curling in his chest instead, glowing bright and comforting like the embers at their feet and the stars above.

“Good”, Bakugou mutters.

More wood is tossed into the fire and rekindled with red-hot palms. Scooting closer, Kirishima holds out his hands and hums happily as it chases away the ever-cooling temperatures. They can’t stay up here forever – Aizawa will have his hide for sure if he doesn’t show up to the remedial course tonight – yet Kirishima figures they have a few more minutes.

Bakugou goes right back to his earlier sprawl, unaffected by the cold: arms crossed, eyes on the sky like he can’t get enough of the sight. Kirishima thinks of glow-in-the-dark stickers, faded over time. Quietly, he wonders which constellation is Bakugou’s favorite.

“Kiri.”

“Hm? Yeah?”

Shoulders relaxed, voice even, Bakugou says: “Tell me something. About space, I mean.”

As complicated as being friends with Bakugou can get, it can be so, so easy, too. Just a while longer, Kirishima decides as he settles in next to his best friend and starts talking.

>>Chapter 4

[lovelyirony]

80. "Lets runaway together" natsharon

Natasha’s life has been made of running. She has always run in her life, either away or towards. 

So it doesn’t surprise her that once SHIELD tells her that they’ll stop monitoring her apartment to make sure she’s not going to leave in the dead of night, she starts a morning run routine. 

She gets up at four, puts on her shoes, and starts to run. The only thing she’s thinking about is the scene ahead of her and where her feet are being placed on the ground. 

Natasha runs for a long time. Her stamina isn’t regular, and so she runs until it’s about five-twenty, when she decides she has to make breakfast for herself before going into work at seven. 

Breakfast is scrambled eggs, a bowl of fruit, one cup of tea, and water. The occasional sausage or bacon is prepared, but usually only if Clint decided he was too tired and slept over. 

Being an agent of SHIELD isn’t nearly as exciting for her as everyone seems to think it is. 

Most of the time, she’s not going to any cool country or saving someone’s life. It doesn’t happen nearly as often as many people think. Or it does, but SHIELD isn’t really called in until it’s a “last resort” decision. So she has a lot of downtime.

In using this downtime, Natasha has decided to look at what other agents are doing. 

Most of it is boring. She finds out the occasional gossip from some of the them on the breakroom floor. 

No one is nearly as afraid of her as they should be, although Natasha thinks that is because she makes oatmeal in the kitchen and Clint also keeps making her laugh. 

(They keep thinking she doesn’t have a sense of humor, which is…odd.) 

One person in particular is the subject of most of her observations, mainly because she was interesting and up and alert at seven a.m., which not even Coulson could boast. 

Agent Thirteen. 

She wasn’t known as anything else. Most people just nodded in her direction, or called her Thirteen. 

Fury has called her a “pest” but Nat thinks that he means it affectionately, because she doesn’t get in trouble for interrupting his lunchtime with her own lunchtime. She actually dragged him out of his office to eat on a bench with her. 

They talk about ordering different printers for some of the agents, she’s been noticing that a few of the buttons are getting sticky and someone accidentally ordered two-thousand copies of some sort of picture rather than the two hundred that they needed. 

She talks about how she found a great burrito truck off of some street near his house (Nat writes this down, because Fury never tells anyone any clues about his residency) and about her new towels. 

It’s mundane. Fury doesn’t usually do mundane. He once threatened a new agent with coffee-run duty when he barely mentioned a new sponge he got for the kitchen. 

With Agent Thirteen, he asks about thread count. 

Natasha notices more and more. 

She also hears about Thirteen’s missions. Apparently, most of her missions go picture-perfect, or about as picture-perfect as missions can get when it’s SHIELD and you have to be an heiress for some obscure east coast family. 

Thirteen has noticeable flaws. She is far from a perfect agent, or at least she is in Nat’s mind. 

But the Red Room does stuff like that. Natasha almost scoffs when Thirteen reveals that her favorite color is orange, because no one ever mentions orange as their favorite color, so it makes her stand out. 

The little things build up until people know exactly who you are. A lot of people don’t realize that, because they think as long as you don’t know their name, then you are fine. 

Natasha cannot count on two hands the number of men she has killed who have never once gotten a credit card, only use computers that run about twenty minutes slower because they’re for public use, and could probably wear tinfoil hats if they really did believe that their brain waves were being read. 

People have habits, and habits reveal far too much about your person. 

- 

Clint says she’s “interested” in Thirteen. 

“Am I?” Natasha asks, curled up on his window seat with coffee. She’s looking out at the rainy night, taking note of all the people who are still out and about. 

“Yes,” Clint says. “You haven’t paid as much attention to anyone else.” 

“Have you considered that she’s the most secretive? After all, everyone else tells everyone else their last name,” she says. 

“What you think is their last name.” 

“I’ll find it out eventually, sooner or later.” 

“That’s not it,” Clint says, sing-song tone raising around the entire apartment. “Besides, you haven’t even done your weird follow technique on Thirteen yet. Why not?” 

“She’s better at detection than you are,” Natasha lies, because Clint is actually one of the best, if not the best. 

“Bullshit,” Clint says. “You want to be her friend or girlfriend or something.” 

“Girlfriend is an awfully strong word,” Natasha says, raising an eyebrow. 

“Well, feelings can be pretty damn strong,” Clint answers. “You want more coffee, or am I okay to wash out the pot?” 

“One more cup.” 

- 

Sharon knows that Natasha Romanoff has been watching her. She’s compiled a list of reasons, which Maria and Phil have vetted and said that the reasons were (mostly) ridiculous: 

1.) Natasha is going to try and overpower her and become the supreme agent of SHIELD, crippling the bosses and forcing a takeover. 

2.) She wants skincare tips, despite the fact that her skin is perfect and flawless. 

3.) ??? 

Sharon doesn’t have any more ideas other than that. 

Maria tells her that she is the “most stupid person on the planet, short of maybe Bill from Fourth Floor.” 

(Bill from Fourth Floor only has a job because of an isolated incident in 1985 that could have resulted in a lawsuit. If he gets fired or let go for any reason, then he takes the best goddamn coffeemaker they’ve ever had, because technically it’s not SHIELD property. They’re not risking the lawsuit.) 

((It should also be mentioned that Bill from Fourth Floor adamantly refuses to learn how to use a computer and thinks that Microsoft Word is the “Devil’s way of telling us that something sinister is going on upstairs” which is a very horrifying answer, yet an intriguing one.)) 

Sharon doesn’t know why she’s stupid, but it’s not like she can ask Fury, who avoids personal conversation as if it is his worst enemy, and it probably is. He’s been known to tell people that they’re getting “too close” when they ask how his day is going.

-

So she starts subtly watching Natasha back. Two can play at the game, after all.

Natasha is a hard one to watch, especially since she’s trying to watch Sharon. 

“Why don’t you just talk to her?” Coulson asks once, while she’s in his office stealing pens. “She won’t bite your head off.” 

“Of course she won’t, I’m not a prospective mate!” Sharon says cheerily. “But, I might talk to her. I want to figure out why she’s following me first, though.” 

Coulson gives her a look that she thinks is meant to be well-meaning, but mostly tells her that he thinks that she is being ridiculous. 

“You can find things out by talking. You can do that, Sharon.” 

“Sh,” she says, not at all serious, really. Coulson seems to know when is the time for her name and which is not. “You can tell me you’re right later.” 

-

They watch each other for three weeks. In these three weeks, they actually get the wrong sort of idea about each other. Natasha keeps trying to walk past her apartment building to see when she gets home, and Sharon is very confused as to why Clint leaves his windows open even when it’s October and freezing as shit. 

They miss each other, is what happens. 

This all culminates into a chance encounter at a coffee shop, and Sharon zeroes in on Nat. 

“You keep strange hours, Romanov.” 

“Could say the same of you, Thirteen.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“You weren’t home until four in the morning last night,” she says. “You call that regular?” 

“Oh, like you were home at two in the morning?” Thirteen asks. 

“Wait. Are you…?” 

“Well I know that you are,” Thirteen says. “By the way, tell Clint to stop leaving the orange juice out.” 

“I will be doing no such thing.” 

“Could be beneficial.” 

“He cannot be babied. He will learn from his mistake.” 

“Nat…he’s twenty-seven.” 

“So? You can still learn.” 

“You shouldn’t have to.” 

Natasha laughs at that, and steps up to order her coffee. She also says to add “whatever this girl is having.” 

“Name for that?” the barista asks, and Thirteen says “Sharon.” 

“That your real name?” 

She blanches, and Nat knows she’s caught her.

She cracks up laughing as they get their coffee and take it outside, and she doesn’t stop laughing until Sharon wacks her on the shoulder. 

“I was under pressure to answer!” 

“Under pressure? From a barista?” 

“You wouldn’t get it,” Sharon says, huffing. 

Natasha laughs again, and smiles as she swipes both of their coffees from the counter. 

“Now, let’s run away together before the baristas discover more about your past, Sharon,” Natasha teases. 

Sharon flips her off. 

“Oh, fuck you. I’ll have you know I have it on good authority that you hold open doors for old ladies.” 

“I’m an assassin, I’m not heartless.” 

“I hate you.” 

“No you don’t,” Natasha says. “Otherwise you wouldn’t be following me.” 

“You don’t have to like someone to follow them.” 

“For a week,” Natasha says, taking a sip. “For a month? Sharon, you have to like something about me.” 

“And what, you don’t?” Sharon asks, face amused. “You followed me for longer, Nat.” 

“You’re calling me Nat?” 

“Natasha is a mouthful.” 

“Fine. I guess I like…your coffee creamers. Where do you get them?” 

“The grocery store, like a normal person,” she says. “We can go later, if you want.” 

“A grocery store date?” 

Sharon grins. 

“Sure. A date at the grocery store. Let’s run away to aisle ten after they find us kissing on aisle four.” 

“Sounds like a plan,” Natasha says, smiling. “Tomorrow night work? Six?” 

“Seven?” 

“Works for me. Do you want to go to a restaurant for dinner or cook it?” 

“Hm…what would we make if we cook?” 

“Pizza rolls.” 

“Sold!”