#like!! EVERYONE is glad we’re waiting! I haven’t seen ANYONE complain

[viorhysealberia]

pokemon fans when they have to wait another year for the next big game with no major releases in-between

[autisticlancemcclain]

Eighteen (Crazy) Ch. 7

The first thing they do when they get back to the Castle is plop their asses down to the kitchen and fucking devour some food goo. (Seriously, it’s borderline animalistic – they haven’t eaten in several hours, and it has been such a busy day – even the nasty food goo suddenly became the most delicious thing in the universe.)

After everyone has had a couple bowls, conversation starts to pick up, now that no one’s main focus is sustenance above all else. 

“Are there any more locations on the list?” Pidge asks. 

“One more!” Lance answers. “We’re gonna need to wormhole, I think. But it’s the last location, and so long as the galaxy is pretty quiet and calm we should be able to station there for a bit. I’m sure we’ll want to do some training tomorrow.”

Allura nods, grabbing her dishes and heading over to the sink. “Sounds like a plan. Is everyone ready to take off?” 

Various murmurs of agreement and one fully loaded dishwasher later, everyone sits safely buckled up in their stations on the bridge. Allura takes no time in wormholing (Keith has always wished the process would take a little longer, though. Not because he wants it to be more taxing on the Alteans, or anything, obviously, but the whole thing is just so cool and Keith would love to watch it for a little longer. Oh, well. Maybe he’ll get more information if he remembers to ask Coran, later – he always makes a mental note of it and forgets immediately), dropping them off in front of a new planet very quickly. 

“This is another really specific set of coordinates,” Lance explains. “We’ll need to take Blue again to get all the way there.”

On the walk back to Blue, Keith jogs ahead to catch up to Lance. Lance grins over at him immediately, setting off a flurry of butterflies in Keith’s stomach. (He hopes he never gets used to how Lance’s smile makes him feel.)

“You excited?” Keith asks, because there’s nothing he wants to talk about with Lance specifically, but he likes being near him. He itches to link their hands together, but he’s not yet sure that’s allowed. 

“Yeah! I’ve been having fun all day, but it got better when all of you guys joined in.” Lance does what Keith was too anxious to do – he reaches over, grabbing Keith’s left hand in his right, interlocking their fingers. He does it smoothly, in one motion. Practiced.

His hands are sweaty, though. And his ears are red.

Keith smiles.

“I’m glad,” Keith says softly, and they don’t say anything more. 

Lance squeezes their hands together once before letting go as he settles into the pilot’s chair in Blue’s cockpit, and the laser focus Keith had on their joined hands fades a little, and he can hear the rest of the team behind him for the first time since he left their bridge. They’re giggling, because of course they are. Keith rolls his eyes, but he can’t deny that their obvious support loosens some of the nervousness tangled in his chest. 

The giggles taper out as they arrive at the final location, right in front of the mouth of the most massive caves Keith has ever seen. No one says anything for a few moments, just kind of taking it in – it’s several times the size of the Castle, at least, and it’s so dark that Blue’s powerful headlights don’t even make a dent. 

“Well, it’s a good thing our helmets have those light thingies,” Lance says, and he’s off before anyone can stop him. Keith doesn’t hesitate to scramble after him, much to Shiro’s exasperation. 

Lance waits for them at the mouth of the cave, tapping his foot impatiently. “It’s like you guys don’t even want to come,” he complains. 

A foam dart hits him in the nose before he even has the chance to finish his sentence. 

“Stop complaining about dumb things,” Pidge orders, holding a dinky little plastic gun at Lance. Lance looks so comically offended that Keith can’t help it and snorts heavily. 

“You just – shot! Me! On my birthday! Where did you even get – a fucking nerf gun! A goddamned real fucking dookie nerf gun! Why!” 

Keith wheezes, doubling over. He’s not the only one. 

“Oh, fuck you guys.” Keith doesn’t need to look up to know Lance is scowling. 

“Your – your face –” Pidge gasps. 

“I’m uninviting you to my birthday party. Y’all can go home. I’ll explore this cool cave by myself. Goodbye.”

Lance stomps off into the deep emptiness of the cave, thin frame quickly swallowed up by the darkness. 

“Aw, Lance, c’mon,” someone coos, but there’s no answer. 

“Lance?” Allura calls, a bit of an edge to her voice. 

Still no answer. 

“Lance?” Shiro yells, louder, and transparently anxious. 

Silence. 

Keith is the next to call out, jogging quickly into the cave. “Lance!”

He’s the first of the rest of the team to enter the cave, not that it matters – once he’s about three metres in, there’s a bend in the massive corridor, and he can’t see a damn thing. 

“Lance! Can you hear me? La –”

“Boo!”

Keith shrieks at the top of his lungs, desperately batting away the thing gripping his arms. He scrambled away a couple feet, hands flailing, heart pounding, before he registers the absolutely howling laughter ringing through the cavern. His face drops. 

“Oh, fuck you.”

“You – you screamed –”

He can’t see him, but Keith is certain the asshole Blue Paladin is just as hunched over as he was earlier. 

“Double fuck you,” he scowls, quickly messaging the rest of the team to inform them that Lance is fine, and simply a dick-for-brains. 

“Do – do you think –” Lance catches Keith eyes and starts wheezing all over again. This time, Keith really has to fight back his smile. “Do you think you could walk back out so I can scare you again?”

“I think you and I better get going before Shiro’s space Xanax wears off and he wraps your dumb ass in bubble wrap.”

“You’re right,” Lance whispers, teasing and conspiratory. His brown eyes shine darker than they’ve ever looked, in the dim light of their helmet lights. He grabs Keith’s hand again, fingers curling around Keith’s, and all of the pining and the nerves and the oh-my-God-does-he-like-me-back and realises – hey. This is Lance. Lance who is his friend, Lance who is funny and dramatic and playful and ridiculous.

Lance who is yanking him forward, yelling “Run!” at the top of his lungs, just as the rest of the team comes stumbling in somewhere behind them. 

Keith runs. How could he not? 

He and Lance sprint down the dark hallways of the cave, laughing and leaning into each other, barely missing running straight into walls every time there’s a bend. They lose the rest of the team easily, both of them easily ignoring the messages popping up every two seconds on their comms (it’s just Pidge texting ‘losers’ again and again). After what must be ten minutes of straight sprinting, Keith has to call it. 

“Hey, hey – hey. Longlegs. Cool it a minute, will you? I feel like my lungs are trying claw out of my chest.”

“Fine,” Lance sighs dramatically, flopping onto Keith. “I guess if you can’t keep up…”

Keith rolls his eyes. He is so not taking the bait for that one. He and Lance are pretty evenly matched in most places, and Keith can kick his ass in others, but Lance has got them all beat in the speed department. 

“How about those coordinates, huh?” he says instead. “You said they were specific?”

“Yes!” Lance says brightly. “I wonder what Future Me has kickin’ in a cave. I mean, caves are cool, but I wouldn’t usually seek them out, y’know? Well, I did when I was a kid, but time is spooky in caves and I was in there for nineteen hours once without realising so my family reported me missing –”

Lance swings their hands between them as they walk, chattering from story to story, fast as a whip. Keith soaks in every word, asking all the right questions at the right times. 

God, Keith loves him so much. 

“Hey, I think it’s starting to get a little brighter in here,” Keith comments. 

Lance hums. “Kinda like Blue’s cave. Remember that?”

“Yep. I specifically remember you driving me insane.”

“I’m very good at that. You’re easy to rile up.”

“Butthead.”

“Goober.”

“Boogerbrain.”

“Gooseface – woah.”

The slow brightening of the cave corridors suddenly makes sense – Lance’s coordinates have led them to a wide open space, sunlight somehow pouring in from everywhere, waterfall gently cascading down into a beautifully blue lake. 

Lance gasps loudly, taking in the scene with a dropped jaw, and then he whoops, quickly pulling up Allura’s contact on the comm. 

“Everyone! Get in here! There’s a waterfall!”

Before anyone on the team even has half a second to respond, he’s hanging up and laughing maniacally as he drags Keith to the lake. Keith pulls his hand free, stopping him.

“Last one in is on dish duty for a week,” he says, and before Lance can process he sprints off. 

“Hey! Not fair!”

But Lance is laughing again, too surprised to run properly, jumping in the lake right after Keith, armour and all. 

“You’re crazy,” he tells Keith. He grabs Keith’s face gently, looking into his eyes, pretending at seriousness. “It’s a condition. You will never be cured. Thoughts?”

“One,” Keith says. He carefully plucks off his helmet, then Lance’s, tossing them onto the dry ground. Then he mirrors Lance's position, hands on his cheek, pulling him close. He leans close, tilting his head slightly, hearing the faintest uptick of Lance’s breath as their lips get closer and closer –

Lance’s hand clamps over his mouth. 

“Wait,” he whispers. 

“Why,” Keith whispers back. Lance’s face is rosy, and he keeps smiling and glancing away. It’s so cute that Keith considers imploding. 

“It’s my birthday.”

“I’m aware, yes.”

“I take birthdays very seriously.”

“Yep. Fondly remembering the twelve layer cake you stressed baked for Hunk. You should get stressed more often when party planning.”

“Shut up. I’m making a point.”

Keith leans forward and tips their foreheads together, grinning openly now. “Then make it, Bluebell.”

“I’m just saying,” Lance huffs, “that if you kiss me, it will be very special.”

“That’s the idea.”

“And if you kiss me on my birthday, one of those things will be overshadowed. Both of those things are groundbreaking. They need their own days, you understand.”

“Alright,” Keith whispers. And because he can’t help himself, not when they’re so close, he presses a lingering kiss to Lance’s cheek. It makes him giggle. “I’ll kiss you tomorrow, then. Okay?”

“Okay. It’s a date.”

“Good.”

“Woah, Lance, you weren’t kidding!” 

At the sound of the rest of the team’s arrival – finally – Keith and Lance hold eye contact for the barest second, coming to a final agreement, and then immediately start their attack, trying their best to drown each other. The rest of the team joins in immediately, yelling and laughing and choking when someone forgets their strength and drowning nearly occurs. At one point, they decide to play chicken, Lance, Pidge, and Keith sitting on Hunk, Allura, and Shiro’s shoulder and trying to shove each other off, Coran refereeing. 

“Future Me nails it again,” Lance says, when they’re all drying off on the lake-bed. 

“Yeah,” Keith agrees. He reaches over and grabs Lance’s hand, squeezing three times in quick succession. “You did. 

[stargazer-sims]

Subtlety

Eden: Cute sweater.

Haru: Thanks. It's my grandmother's.

Eden: You took your grandmother’s sweater?

Haru: Yeah, but she knows I have it. I like wearing it because it makes me feel close to her when I’m not with her. Weird, I know, but sometimes I just want to go home when I know I can’t, and this helps a little.

Eden: I don’t think it’s weird. It kinda makes me wish I’d brought something of my parents’ with me. I’m a lot farther away from home than you are, and I don’t know when I’m going to see my family next.

Haru: Oh. Sorry.

Eden: No, it’s okay. I knew it’d be like this when Charlie and I left. And I’m glad you can still see your family often, even if it’s not as often as you’d like.

Haru: If I had my way, I’d still be living with them. But, actually, if we're talking about literally seeing them, there's always video chats, and I can see my grandfather every evening during the week if I want to. Not in person, but I can watch him on TV.

Eden: Your grandfather is on TV?

Haru: Yeah. You’ve probably seen him too, if you ever watch the news on NHK.

Eden: Wait… Abe Sakuma, right? Same family name as you. I’ve seen him before, but I never made the connection.

Haru: You wouldn’t have any reason to until now.

Eden: So, your grandfather is famous too. No wonder you’re so comfortable with the spotlight. It’s kind of normal for you, isn’t it?

Haru: I guess you could say that. My grandmother says we’re both show-offs. I like to think of it as charisma and like, a talent for drawing attention to ourselves.

Eden: Some people might argue that consistently drawing attention to yourself isn’t a good thing.

Haru: Only if it’s the wrong kind of attention. Like, let’s say you’re trying to get attention from a cute boy. It’s not bad then, right?

Eden: Subtlety’s not one of your strengths, is it?

Haru: I don’t need subtlety. I’m sexy, rich and famous.

Eden: *laughing*

Haru: *yawning* I don’t know about you, but soaking in the bath made me sleepy.

Eden: As I was saying about your lack of subtlety…

Haru: Yeah, but sexy, rich and famous, remember?

Eden: Are you really sleepy?

Haru: Not really. I just want to cuddle.

Eden: You should’ve said so in the first place.

Haru: But, wouldn’t that be a complete lack of subtlety? Wouldn’t you prefer me to try, at least?

Eden: Your attempts are adorable, even if they’re hilarious, so yeah. I guess I would.

Haru: Adorable. Can you say that again, please?

Eden: You’re adorable, Haru.

Haru: Thank you. I already love hearing that from you.

Eden: I wonder where everyone else is? We haven’t seen anyone since we finished eating and said we were going to the bath.

Haru: Do you want them around? I’m fine with being alone with you.

Eden: I’m happy to be alone with you too. I just thought it’d be… I don’t know. Busier around here.

Haru: Usually it is. Senjirō and Keigo are probably sulking in their room now, and I’ll bet Ryu is hiding out somewhere with Ji-Soo, doing exactly what we’re doing.

Eden: I didn’t realize Ji-Soo lives here with you.

Haru: She doesn’t. She and her brother have a place in town. She’s only here because you’re here. Not that Ryu’s complaining, I’ll bet.

Eden: So, Ji-Soo and Ryu are a thing? Is that allowed?

Haru: It’s not really allowed, but even if they’re not confessing it, they definitely are a thing. If you ask me though, I think they should just say something, ‘cause it’s like the worst-kept secret of all time anyway.

Eden: What would happen if they did officially get together?

Haru: Ji-Soo would probably lose her job. I mean, think of it like getting into a relationship with somebody you essentially work for. Like a nurse hooking up with a patient or something.

Eden: Yeah, I can see how that’d be a problem. But like, if that were you, wouldn’t you ask yourself if your job is more important than the person you love?

Haru: Yeah, I would. I love what I’m doing now, and it’s really important to me, but if I had to choose between this and a person I loved, you know what? I’d give all of this up in a heartbeat.

Eden: Hopefully it’ll never come to that. I hope you get to have it all.

Haru: If I’m lucky, and things keep going the way they’re going, maybe I will.

[solemnly-mischievous]

rivalry (d.m. x reader)

You and Draco Malfoy have a rocky relationship, at best. It'd be better to describe it as a rivalry. But all it takes is a bit of fire from your end to finally make him snap.

(AKA: I just really wanted to write an enemies-to-lovers trope for my first fic.)

A/N: Hi! First fic. Hope you like it. :)

Contains: Degradation, slight edging, d/s elements, slight dub-con (but not really; full consent is clearly given), light humiliation

Word count: 3.9K

-----

Normally, Defense Against the Dark Arts would be your favorite class. The spells you learn are fun and useful; Professor Lupin is always a plus, and most importantly, you’re good at the subject—so bloody good, you’ve bested even Hermione and Harry multiple times.

But lately, you’ve been finding yourself dreading the lessons. So much, in fact, that you were half-considering asking Hermione to hex you just to get out of your afternoon class.

Why? It’s a pretty easy answer when you got down to it.

Draco Malfoy.

You’d had an ongoing rivalry with the git since third grade. He’s been terrorizing you and your friends, mostly because of Harry, but along the way the two of you had begun building a personal vendetta.

(He probably hasn’t quite yet forgiven you for hexing him so badly he’d had to stay in the Infirmary for weeks, and you certainly haven’t forgiven him for causing your friends so much grief over the years.)

This year, you’d thought you could try your best to avoid him, with your upcoming N.E.W.T.s and all. But DADA had other plans.

Professor Lupin had begun experimenting with mixing up partners for class—it was, after all, a very hands-on class—and had apparently decided that cross-house interaction would build bonds and skill. His exact words were, “If they’re your friend, you’re gonna go easier on them. In the real world, you never know who you’re fighting with—or against.”

So he’d randomized the name list. You, being Gryffindor, knew immediately you wouldn’t be with any of your closest friends—but you hoped that perhaps you’d be paired with Cedric, or Luna, or anyone but—

“Your partner is Draco Malfoy,” Professor Lupin informed you when he got to your name, and you immediately make to protest.

“Her?” a voice came just as you complained “Not him”, and the students parted to reveal Draco himself, glaring daggers at you and Lupin.

“Yes, her,” Lupin replied, unruffled. “Now, pair up, everyone. We’re practicing Stunning today.”

That day, you’d fucking limped out of the classroom. Not to say Draco had gotten it easier—he could barely stand after you Disarmed, Stunned, and hit him with a nasty stinger hex just for the sake of it. (You’d gotten detention, but it was worth it.)

Today’s your second class with Malfoy, and you’ve never wanted more to be able to commit violent actions in your life.

“Please,” you whisper to Hermione as your group enter the DADA classroom. “Just one hex. I won’t even go to Pomfrey. No witnesses. You could just Petrify me, if that’s more to your liking.”

She sighs. “I’m not going to Petrify you.”

“’Mione,” you say, scandalized. “I thought we were friends.”

“Pair up, everyone,” Lupin calls out. Your friends shuffle away and you close your eyes, already getting a headache from the thought of—

“Well, well.” That fucking smarmy voice. “If it isn’t Potter’s little friend.”

“If it isn’t Daddy’s boy,” you snap, opening your eyes and glaring at Malfoy, who already has his wand out. “Bugger off, Malfoy.”

“Afraid I can’t do that.” Draco’s eyes narrow. Clearly, he’s as displeased with the situation as you are. “What are we doing today, then? Can’t wait to knock you down a few notches. Star of the class, my—”

“Patronuses!” Professor Lupin announces from across the room, and your heart soars—Patronuses, you could do that. Harry, months earlier, had taught you how to perfect a corporeal form in exchange for tips on his Astronomy essay. He isn’t here today—maybe you could be the only one in the class to do it.

Lupin continues, “Yes, the Patronus—an essential in the world of Defense magic. We’ll be starting with just the simple basics of it. A strong flick of the wand, and the words ‘Expecto Patronum!’. Say it with me, everyone.”

You chorus the words obediently along with the class, Malfoy’s snort of derision not going unnoticed.

“Good. Good, good, now—the key to the Patronus is to think of a happy memory. It has to be strong. Remember, Dementors feed on misery—it’s the only way to keep them away. Now, go practice. I’ll be walking around to see if there’s any problems.”

“Expecto Patronom,” Malfoy repeats in a mocking voice once the classroom starts filling with the chants of fellow students. “Doesn’t Potter know how to do that one? Heard he can do a deer. Pretty weak animal if you ask me—”

“A stag,” you correct. “And it’s Patronum, not Patronom.”

He glares at you again. “Think you’re so smart, don’t you?”

“Certainly smarter than you are.” You glance at him. “Though that’s not saying much, is it?”

You give Fred Weasley, who’d circled around to hear the conversation, a not-discreet fist-bump.

“Alright then.” Malfoy spits out your last name, trying to provoke you. “Let’s see you do it.”

“You try,” you suggest, hiding your smirk. “Unless you’re too scared.”

Draco grits his teeth. Unwilling to back down from a challenge, he brandishes his wand. “Expecto Patronum!”

A thin, wispy light appears at the end of his wand—weak, but clearly visible. Classmates around you murmur as they notice it, and Professor Lupin beams as he sees Draco’s doing. “Very good, Draco! A fantastic start.”

Draco flicks his wand smugly and the Patronus charm dissipates. He smirks, shooting you an expectant look.

You take out your wand, feeling its familiar grip, and you close your eyes. You recall the memory of a weekend in Hogsmeade with your friends, drinking Butterbeer as you stroll through the snowy village, pointing out the shops and people. Unconsciously, you smile.

“Expecto Patronum!”

Light blazes so bright you can see it under closed eyes, and you open them to find a glowing golden retriever prancing out the end of your wand. It bounds around in the air joyfully, leaving a trail of light where it leaps, and circles the classroom, eventually coming back to you and wagging its tail.

Professor Lupin is grinning, utterly delighted as he takes in your Patronus. Calling your name, he exclaims, “That is phenomenal—you’ve learned fast. Very impressive job!”

You smile back, and your Patronus glows lighter in response. You quickly call it off, the light being a bit too much, and the rest of the class passes by in a haze of awed murmurs and classmates asking your advice on their spellwork. You become so preoccupied, you don’t even notice Draco’s unrelenting stare on your back.

The class ends fast, the bell tolling to signify the start of what would be a study period for you. As students trail out of the classroom, chattering happily, Professor Lupin calls you over.

“Listen, I want you to know that what you did today was truly impressive,” he says, seriously. “I assume Harry laid out the groundwork, yes?”

You nod. He smiles. “You and Harry both are very accomplished students, then. But truly—I doubt many Aurors could’ve managed what you did today.”

“Thank you, Professor.” Your words are sincere.

“My pleasure.” Professor Lupin shoots you an apologetic look. “Now, I’m terribly sorry, but I have off-grounds business to attend to—would you mind setting the classroom to rights? I’m afraid I had to push the desks and chairs back for our class, but I don’t have time to put them back. I’ll write you a note, if you—”

“Oh, no, Professor, don’t worry, it’s a study period. I’d be glad to help.”

“Thank you,” he says, relieved, already heading out the door. “Thank you. I’ll see you tomorrow, then. I’ll bring chocolate to compensate!”

“Goodbye, Professor!” you call, and he echoes it, and then he’s gone. You look around the classroom, seeing all the desks in the back, and you crack your knuckles. Time to get to work.

“Well. Quite the teacher’s pet, aren’t we?”

Merlin’s fucking beard.

“Bloody hell, Malfoy,” you mutter, turning around to find him leaning against the classroom doorframe. His blond hair glints silver in the sunlight, and his entire outline—his uniform, his stance, his dark gaze—is just… honestly, unfairly attractive.

So maybe your first impression of Draco Malfoy, years ago, wasn’t that he was a self-entitled git. Maybe, just maybe, you’d thought he was the prettiest boy you’d ever seen.

And maybe that feeling never went away.

Not that you’d let him know that.

“What are you doing here?”

“Study period.” He starts walking towards you, shutting the door behind him. “Couldn’t help but be curious as to what Lupin wanted with you.”

“What’s it to you?” you snap. Malfoy doesn’t reply.

“Why do you insist on being so difficult?” he asks instead, and you blink.

“Me?” you splutter. “Difficult? Fat lot of sense that makes, with you fucking insulting me at every move I make—”

“As I recall, our first interaction was you hexing me in third-year.” Malfoy sounds amused.

“You pushed Harry into the lake,” you snap at him. “You bloody well deserved it.”

Draco laughs. “Good times.”

“Malfoy, what the bloody hell are you doing here?”

“You’ve got quite a mouth.”

“My mouth is also capable of jinxing you three ways to Friday, so I suggest you leave me alone, yeah?” Your fingers twitch towards your wand in preparation, and he only looks on with derision.

“I’m just frightened,” Malfoy sneers. You barely notice him slipping off his rings, pocketing them. “Potter taught you that Patronus charm, didn’t he?”

“What’s it to you?”

“Nothin’. Just wondering what else he taught you.” A vengeful mood seems to have taken Draco. “You seem to hang out with him an awful lot.”

“It’s called having friends,” you snap right back. He looks as though he’s about to retort, but you push on. “Unfamiliar with the concept? Wouldn’t be surprised. Crabbe and Goyle don’t seem like the best conversationalists, are they? Just a couple of goons. Wonder why you don’t have better friends. Friends you can actually talk to who operate with more than one braincell.”

“Shut—”

“Maybe it’s because no one wants to be near you,” you continue, years of pent up frustration spilling out in a vitriolic spiel. “Because you’re a miserable bastard who doesn’t know how to be happy, aren’t you? You drive everyone away and then you go after more because you’re lonely and sad and fucking pathetic—”

“Shut up,” Malfoy repeats with a vehemence.

“—and it’s too fucking late to repair the damage you’ve done—”

“Shut up,” Malfoy snarls, and you stare into his narrowed eyes.

“Fucking make me,” you snap back, and he lunges.

You’re pinned against the wall of the classroom, Malfoy’s wand to your throat and a hand fisting your robes to render you immobile. Draco flicks his wand, ever-so-slightly, and you hear the classroom door lock with a wordless spell.

“Malfoy,” you whisper, but he cuts you off.

“Shut the fuck up or I swear you’ll bloody regret it,” he hisses.

“Draco,” you begin, and he curses.

“Fuck it.”

Gripping your robes, he leans in and kisses you.

It’s rough and demanding and you think he’s trying to hurt you, with how much his teeth scrape against your bottom lip and bite down gently, but you’re not pulling away, he’s not pulling away, and you find yourself leaning into the kiss, arching up to meet him—

He breaks away and looks at you, smirking.

“If I’d known that’s what it would take for you to shut your bloody mouth, I’d have done it years ago.”

“Let me go, Malfoy,” you say shakily, but even as he loosens his grip slightly, you show no sign of moving.

“If you’d wanted to leave you’d have Stunned me long ago,” he states, truthfully. Your wand is fully in reach. You know how to do wordless spells. And yet you let him kiss you.

“Shut up,” you grumble, still not moving.

“I think, perhaps,” Draco murmurs, glancing down at your body, “you’re enjoying this.”

“No,” you argue, and his wand digs into your neck—not enough to hurt but enough to register.

“Shh,” Draco hushes, almost condescendingly. “Be quiet, now. That’s a good girl.”

Involuntarily, you shudder at his words. They made your legs weak, and you fight off the urge to audibly whimper—what the hell’s gotten into you?

Maybe he won’t notice. Maybe he hasn’t noticed.

Of fucking course he notices.

“Oh?” The shit-eating smirk on his face is enough to make you glare absolute daggers at him. “Don’t give me that. You shivered. You liked it.”

“Shut up,” you say again, with no real strength.

“Don’t you want to be my good girl, sweetheart?” he teases cruelly, and you have to close your eyes to fight off the blush. It doesn’t work, and your face grows hot with embarrassment and arousal.

“Dear me,” Draco says mockingly. “What happened to the spitfire from minutes ago, hm? Still feeling like saying those words to me? Still feeling like being bad?”

Inadvertently, you shake your head.

“Who’s pathetic now?” he mocks, grinning, letting his wand trail a cold path down your neck, over your collarbone, until it rests on the top button of your uniform. “May I?”

The question sounds mocking, but he meets your gaze and you know he’s honestly asking for permission. And you give it to him, nodding, even as your blush deepens. Draco undoes your buttons, one by one, with tiny flicks of his wand, until your shirt is fully unbuttoned and you’re exposed to his gaze.

Draco shoves his wand into his belt and pushes your bra out of the way with an almost laughable urgency, getting a full, appreciative look at your breasts. “So fucking pretty,” he murmurs. “Shame they belong to such a fucking headache, hm?”

You grumble some sort of an insult, and Draco pinches a nipple, which shuts you up effectively. “That’s what I thought.”

His hands trail down to your skirt, and instead of undoing the button he leans down and scoops the fabric up. “Here, be good and useful and hold this for me.”

The indifferent praise and the degradation combined has you obeying immediately, hoisting your skirt up and baring yourself to him, which only adds to an eddying swirl of shame and arousal pooling in your gut. Draco looks at you, stares, really, and it’s with a predatory grin that he reaches over to caress you through your panties.

“Soaked,” he observes, sounding both amused and satisfied. “You always get off this much to being treated like a right slut, then?”

“Draco,” you whine, bucking your hips up into his almost phantom touch. “Come on.”

“Is that how we ask nicely?” Oh, this bloody git. You’ll never be able to look at him again—he’s going to be so fucking smug around you.

When you don’t answer, he withdraws his touch completely, and you make a sound of protest. “No, no, please.”

“Go on.”

“Please touch me,” you try, but it’s hard to focus when you’re so goddamn wet you’re soaking through your panties.

“Not quite,” Draco muses. He’s palming himself through his trousers, and the sight turns you on impossibly more. “Come on, then—convince me.”

“Draco, please touch me,” you beg. One of your hands drift down to your panties but he slaps it away immediately, shooting you a warning look. “Please!”

“Touch you where?” He wants you to say it.

“Touch my cunt, please, Draco, fuck, I’m so wet it hurts,” you beg, and it’s true—you’re aching with arousal, and if he doesn’t touch you within the next few seconds you think you really just might combust. “Please, please touch me, I’ll be good, I’ll do whatever you want, just touch me.”

“If only the school could see you now,” he sneers, but even he seems to break his self-control and he tugs your panties down harshly, all but ripping them off. “Baring yourself to me and begging to be touched like a whore.”

“I’m not—oh,” you gasp, his fingers pressing into your cunt immediately and his thumb working on your clit, sending waves of pleasure so potent you almost double over. His fingers are long and thin, which is why he can press two in without preamble, and the stretch is barely noticeable.

“You’re not what? A whore?” Draco laughs. “Please. Look at yourself.”

“’m not,” you insist, but you clench around his fingers at his words and he raises an eyebrow.

“I think you’re lying.” He presses a third finger in and you whine, little sounds of pleasure escaping your lips as he works you open. “Quieter, now, or I’ll have to gag you.”

You bite your lip, and Draco thumbs your clit as a reward and incentive. “Now, tell me what you are. Be truthful, or I won’t fuck you. I’ll leave, leave you here with your shirt hanging open and your skirt up, the doors wide open. Maybe the next bloke who stumbles in might help you.”

Your eyes widen—he wouldn’t. But his gaze is dead serious. “Say it.”

“I’m a whore,” you breathe, and he thrusts his fingers into you, hitting that right spot. “Draco!”

“Say it louder,” he orders, angling his fingers and curling them.

“I’m a whore,” you moan out, bucking your hips upwards—you’re close, you’re so close. “Draco, I—”

He stops moving, and his other hand pinches your clit harshly. “No.”

You let out a gasp of shock and hurt, reeling from the denial and pleasure. “But—”

“You’re not fucking coming until I say so,” Draco hisses, undoing his belt and pushing his trousers down. “And I’m not saying so until I properly fuck you into a bloody wreck.”

His cock is already hard, and he positions himself right at your entrance. You can feel him, his tip pressed against your wetness, but not pushing in. “Draco—”

“I think,” he muses, and you want to scream, “one day I’ll drag you into a broom closet. Fuck your throat so hard you won’t be able to talk for the day. You’ll look pretty, don’t you think?”

“Please—”

“Or I’ll bring you back to my dorm, so I can fuck you until you’re screaming yourself hoarse,” Draco says thoughtfully. “Your dorm works. So long as I can ruin you.”

“Malfoy—”

“Because it’s just so—” and he pushes into you in one swift movement, fucking into you immediately with a fast and rough rhythm, “—fucking nice to see you being a slut for me.”

“Fuck!” You grind your hips along with his rhythm, feeling the tightness of your cunt around his cock, and you clench as he hits your sweet spot with the right angle, almost shaking with the pleasure that it gives you.

Draco groans your name, fucking you brutally as he chases his own release, already pent-up from the teasing and the sight of your wrecked state. “’m gonna come on your tits, would you like that? Get it all fucking messy, maybe get some into your mouth, get you fucking ruined?”

“Please, please, fuck, please let me come,” you plead him, feeling your impending orgasm barrel towards you—you couldn’t last, you can’t fucking last—

“Fucking hold it,” Draco snaps. “Hold it like a good fucking girl, you understand?”

You let out a mournful sound, but you nod—yes, I’ll be good, I’ll be good, please—

“Salazar, I’m fucking close,” Malfoy breathes into your ear, his voice rough and strained. “You feel so good, love, so bloody tight.”

“Please,” you whimper, not even sure what you’re pleading for at this point. Draco exhales shakily and curses, pulling out and pushing you to your knees with such a force that you drop down, your skirt being the only padding.

“Wh—?” you try to ask, but Draco is already pumping his cock and then he’s coming all over your face, some of it dripping down to paint your breasts as he’d promised. Draco leans down to gather some release on a finger and pushes it into your mouth, eyes darkening as you suck and swallow around it.

“Good girl,” he praises, and you almost come right there.

“Draco, please,” you beg, still on your knees and still absolutely fucking desperate for release that he’s been denying you for the past half hour. “Please let me—”

“Alright, spread your legs, c’mon,” Draco guides, and you obey and then he’s there, thumb rubbing steady circles around your clit and two fingers pushing inside you once more. You whine and grind into his fingers, his touch, hips following his movement as he pushes you closer—closer—

“Fuck!” you sob as he senses your impending orgasm and stills his hand. “No—no, why?”

You sound like a petulant child and Draco laughs at you, and it’s an unfair move and a mean sound but it somehow turns you on even more. “I’m just messing, sweetheart.”

Fuck you, you badly want to say, but somehow you feel like that won’t get you what you want.

Draco starts moving again, his fingers gaining speed, and the sound of them pumping in and out of your soaked cunt sounds delightfully dirty. You’re quickly pushed to the edge again, and amidst your pleasure you eye Draco distrustfully.

“Please,” you whisper, and he smirks at you.

“Well, since you asked so nicely.”

And he thumbs your clit and you’re coming, gasping with the pleasure and shaking as he eases you through it. His fingers don’t stop moving, even after your orgasm has faded, and you squirm in discomfort as he overstimulates you.

“Stop—please—”

“Promise me you won’t be a bloody pain again,” Draco levels at you, and you want to glare back but his fingers curl inside of you and you yelp with pleasure and pain. “Promise me, or I’ll keep going.”

“I—I won’t be a pain,” you mumble, trying to squeeze your thighs together to get rid of his touch, but he perseveres, flicking your clit mercilessly.

“Say you’ll be good.”

“I’ll be good,” you manage, so close to sobbing from the frustration. “Please, Draco, I’ll be good, be good for you, please stop.”

He relents and you feel him draw his hand back. You close your eyes and you hear him tug his trousers back on, buckling his belt. You feel strangely empty without him—without his fingers, his cock, his touch.

Draco produces a handkerchief from his pocket and wipes the sweat, drool, and cum off your face, helping you button your shirt back up as well. “You alright?”

“Never better,” you reply, opening your eyes to see him staring at you in concern, all traces of the cruel tease earlier gone. Outside, the sun is setting, casting orange hues into the classroom, and you suddenly remember. “I—oh, bloody hell, I have to arrange the desks for Lupin—”

“I’ll do it. Stay here.”

Draco stands up and takes out his wand, flicking it twice in quick succession. A wordless spell. As you watch, the desks and chairs slide back to where they used to be, neatly arranging themselves in rows.

You’re impressed as he comes back. “What spell is—hey!”

He’s flicked his wand once more and torn your panties clean off your legs.

“Draco—what in Merlin—”

“A souvenir.” Malfoy smirks, stuffing your soaked panties into the pocket of his trousers. “And payment for the desks.”

“You’re a bloody prick,” you say, leaning your head back against the wall.

“Careful now, love. Remember what you promised.” Draco’s tone is playful, but warning. “I’m a man of my word, so you should choose yours carefully. Next time I won’t be as gentle.”

Caught off-guard, you can only nod obediently, which seems to please him. But you can’t promise you won’t slip back into old habits the very next day. Whatever the case, one thing was clear—there would almost certainly be a next time.

------

Requests & asks are open! Here is the guide on requests, if you'd like to check that out first. Hope you enjoyed!

[writing-in-a-chipotle]

Unbearably Mortal (Part 2)

(Alcina Dimitrescu x gender neutral reader)

Part 1

Words: ~2.5 K

Summary: In which a lot of things happen and none of them are good.

A/N: Hey, y’all! Back at it again with another chapter! Hope you enjoy!

“Nope nope nope nope… no way in hell…” You shook your head violently, unable to process what Mary had said. “This is… this is all some sort of elaborate prank, right? You’re messing with me. Yeah.” You swallowed. Your saliva felt like acid.

Mary grimaced. “I’m sorry, but this isn’t a game. This is very much reality.”

“So… what are they then?” You began pacing the floor, anxiety clinging to the pit of your stomach. “You expect me to believe that they’re some sort of weird, blood-sucking vampires?? You must be out of your mind… they don’t exist! They can’t be real!”

Mary stood up and walked over to you, gently placing her hands on your shoulders. With her blocking your path, you were forced to stop pacing and look at her.

“Listen,” She began, eyes gleaming with fear “I have no need to lie to you. Believe whatever you want to believe, for the only thing on the line right now is your head. Jane and I risked our lives to save you. If we were caught, all of us would have died. So, are you going to freak out and get yourself killed, or are you gonna listen to me?”

You were stunned into silence. Mary was being deathly serious. You nodded shakily.

“Good.” Mary breathed a sigh of relief. “If you had a mental breakdown and they heard…” She didn’t finish her sentence. She didn’t need to either; the implication was horrifying enough as it was.

“Thank you, by the way,” you sighed, sitting back down on the bed, “you really didn’t have to save me.”

“Honestly, I’m still scared out of my mind,” she admitted breathily, “but I’m glad you’re better now.”

“Thanks.”

She hummed, then pursed her lips. Her frown deepened even more. “Well… now what do we do? The Dimitrescu family is notorious for slaughtering any trespassers they find.”

Your eyes widened and your stomach dropped. “Oh no… oh no, no, no…”

You were stuck. You were stuck in a terrifying castle with horrifying, blood-sucking monsters who would gladly turn you into a mangled corpse on their living room floor. You had no way to call for help, and your parents probably didn’t even know what was happening…

Your phone.

You patted your pockets and fished through them. Let’s see: some dirt, a crumpled flight itinerary, your house keys… aha!

“...what’s in the box?” Mary asked, “I don't think I’ve seen anything like it before.”

You blinked. Box? “Oh, this? It’s my phone.” You rotated it slowly in your fingers so she could easily see all its sides. “It’s a bit larger and blockier than your average iPhone because it’s designed to connect directly to the satellite, making it easy to call anyone from anywhere in the world. It cost me a lot of money, but since I was planning on traveling the world after I graduated, I decided it wouldn’t hurt to have it a few years early.”

Mary gave you a completely confused stare. “What’s an… iPhone? Or a sad-del-light? Did you make those up?”

You frowned, your eyebrow twitching in confusion. “Uh… no? I wouldn’t make anything like this up. You… you truly don’t know what modern technology is like?”

She shook her head. “I’ve… never been outside the village. I have no idea what the rest of the world is like.”

“And you don’t have a phone? Internet? Anything??”

“I’m afraid not,” She fidgeted with the hem of her skirt, “the Lords don’t allow anyone to leave the village or write letters to the outside world.”

A chill shot up your spine. “That’s… terrifying…”

Mary nodded, then tilted her head, thinking. She pursed her lips and motioned with her finger for you to come closer. You lean your ear to her.

“What is it?” You whisper.

“There are rumors of a girl who escaped the Lord’s wrath,” she began, “apparently, she managed to leave the village unharmed. There was an old hag who used to moan about how her daughter left her for a new life. She sounded half mad, so no one bothered listening to her.”

Your grandmother. She was talking about your grandmother.

And your mom.

This meant that… your mom knew about these crazy monsters? That she let you come here, to a place where you would most likely die? Alone??

Nothing made sense anymore.

You realized you had zoned out of Mary’s story. You shook your head, bringing your attention back to the present.

“Is that a good idea?”

“Uh, sorry, what?” You blinked. Mary was staring at you like you were an idiot. (Which you were, but that’s not the point.)

“I said,” she repeated, “you need to blend in until we can figure out how to escape.”

“That’s… that’s a pretty good idea. And wait….” you repeated her words in your mind. “We? You want to come too?”

“Goddess, it’s like you’re dense or something.” Mary muttered under her breath. “Of course I want to leave! Are you out of your mi-“

“I get it, I get it,” you huffed, interrupting her, “What do we do now?”

“Now,” she folded her arms, “we need to get you a disguise.” She walked over to a tiny dresser in the far corner and pulled out a neatly-folded maid’s uniform. “I hope you’re my size.”

————————

Turns out you weren’t Mary’s size.

You couldn’t help it; your new friend was practically a walking stick. Your shoulders were too broad, your legs too long; but with Mary’s excellent sewing skills, you were able to make it work… sort of.

“Damn, this uniform is itchy,” you complained, scratching at the neckline.

“You’ll grow used to it after a while,” Mary replied. “Now we need to get to work or-“

“We’ll be made into wine. Got it.” You straightened out your sleeves.

She nodded. “Just follow my lead.”

The two of you walked quickly and quietly out of the servant’s quarters. Your heart was racing. Every time you turned a corner, you half expected a bloodied monster to jump the both of you and tear out your arteries.

You rounded another bend and nearly walked into Mary. She had stopped suddenly and immediately fled to the side of the hallway, bowing deeply at the corridor. You quickly followed her lead.

The moment you bowed your head, a steady buzzing filled your ears.

Swarms of flies flitted through your vision as they flew down the hall, buzzing excitedly. Maliciously. You don’t know how they managed to convey such emotions, but they seemed…. off.

And then, they changed.

The insects spiraled and spun into a large, buzzing mass, sewing themselves into a completely different form; one with a deep black cloak, ghoulishly pale hands, wild blonde hair…

And blood-stained teeth.

Mary curtsied deeply and you were quick to follow suit. “Good evening, Lady Bela,” she said softly, refusing to look up, “how may we be of service?”

Bela gave a bored wave of her hand. “We’re a bit... short-staffed in the kitchens at the moment,” she drawled, “Mother doesn’t want dinner to be served a second too late. She-” Her eyes fell on you and she stopped dead in her tracks. “You smell familiar, human…” she growled.

Oh no, you were dead, you were dead, you were dead. Cold sweat fell from your neck, and your heart raced. Bela stepped closer to you, brows furrowed and hungry eyes glinting.

“They’re new, Lady Bela,” Maria said quickly.

She raised an immaculate brow. “New, you say?”

“Yes, Miss.”

“... I see.”

It was only a moment before she leaned away, but to you, it felt like hours. The Dimitrescu was a terrifyingly deadly whirlwind, one that seemed to stare directly into your soul… maybe even smell your fear. Bela’s lips twitched, giving you a glimpse of sharp fangs.

“Well then, newcomer,” she hissed, amusement dripping in her voice, “if you’re so eager to serve us, I want you to pour the wine.”

Your heart raced in panic, your hands shaking. Pouring the wine meant seeing these monsters at their most bloodthirsty. It meant you would get caught.

I won’t survive, you thought fearfully.

You quickly dropped into a clumsy curtsy before you forgot yourself. “A-as you wish, Lady Bela,” you choke out.

“Hm… we’ll see, won’t we.” She dissolved into a sea of flies and flew down the hallway and out of sight.

You breathed heavily. Your heart was still going a mile a minute. Before you could say anything, Mary grabbed your arm and tugged you along.

“Wha-“

“Shh,” she hissed. “Not yet.”

You followed her silently to the kitchen. This whole situation was too hard to process… you’d barely been in Romania for a day and you suddenly had to face the reality of your imminent death.

You felt lightheaded. Your vision swam.

“Where are you, draga mea?” A smooth, enchanting voice swirled in your mind. You felt your pulse hammering in your temples. The voice sounded so close, yet so far away. It was familiar and warm… but it was too hard to tell if it meant anything. You were too woozy, too lightheaded…

“It’s time to wake up, darling,” the voice continued dreamily, “Open your eyes for me?”

“...hey… hey!” A familiar voice hissed, “hello? Are you alright?”

Your eyes snapped open.

Mary stood in front of you, her hands on your shoulders. Once she saw you move, she breathed a sigh of relief. “Are you alright? You haven’t blinked for the past few minutes, nor have you responded to anything or anyone around you.”

“Yeah, I just…” you swallowed thickly. What was wrong with you? “... I just spaced out.” Mary frowned, giving you a suspicious glance, but didn’t push.

You were in the kitchen. Cooks and maids bustled around in an organized fashion, whispering instructions to each other while slicing, cooking, and plating bright red slabs of meat. You definitely didn’t want to know what kind the Dimitrescu’s were eating tonight.

Someone grabbed your arm and you flinched, turning around. It was one of the older cooks, a salt and pepper haired woman with soot-stained clothes and greasy calloused hands. She shoved a a bottle of wine into your hands so fast, you nearly dropped it. She glowered at you.

“As soon as the meal is served, you pop open the bottle and pour for everyone.” She hurriedly rattled off instructions. “When they finish their drink, pour them another. You do not look at them, you do not touch them or their glasses, you don’t even breathe around them. And for the love of the Goddess: Do. Not. Spill.”

You gulped and nodded. You just had to do your job, then leave. That’s all. You could do this.

Or so you told yourself.

The old woman gave you a quick look, and for a moment it seemed she gave you a twinge of a sympathetic smile. But just like that it was gone, replaced by her signature scowl.

“Alright, we go in three…” she held up three fingers covered in burn scars. One second passed. Then another.

The kitchen maids smoothly entered the dining room in one sweeping motion; a flurry of skirts and iron serving trays. You followed them close behind. The maids placed the trays in front of each Dimitrescu before fleeing to the kitchen single file.

And then it hit you.

You were the only maid who was supposed to stay throughout the entire meal.

Without you even knowing it, Bela had assigned you one of the most dangerous jobs at the castle; one where you had to stay, alone, in the same room as four hungry, bloodthirsty vampires.

You quickly began pouring the wine.

You walked around the massive mahogany table, trying your best not to spill the blood-red drink. You poured for Bela first, and you tried your absolute best not to look her in the eye. You didn’t know what you would do if you saw her grinning.

You moved on to the next Dimitrescu: a redhead with glistening fangs. As you poured, she suddenly hissed. In your surprise, you fumbled the bottle. But you didn’t spill.

The last sister (you assumed all three of them were sisters based on their similar appearances) was a brunette with mischievous eyes. You didn’t mean to look at her… you really didn’t…

Based on her low, rumbling cackle, you knew you were doomed.

The last Dimitrescu, the Lady Dimitrescu, was much different than the other three. She was incredibly tall, with a flowing white dress that fell to her ankles, a wide-brimmed hat…

And pearly-white satin gloves.

Why did that seem so familiar?

You shook your head. You had to stop thinking and just pour the wine! You only had one more glass to fill, after all.

The brunette stuck out her foot, and you went down.

You landed on top of the bottle, and it shattered under you. Glass and wine flew everywhere, piercing your clothes, slicing your skin, staining the rug…

And completely drenching the front of Lady Dimitrescu’s immaculate dress.

The air cracked with electricity. “You...” she hissed, in a stranglely familiar voice.

Before you could even beg for forgiveness, the towering terror of a woman stood from the table and grasped you by the collar before you could even blink.

She growled, breath smelling of blood. “You will pay for your insole-“ her breath hitched. Her death grip on you loosened and faded, till you dropped to the floor like a rag doll.

Fearfully, you looked up at her.

Her demeanor had completely changed. Where once stood a cold-hearted monster was a shocked, crying… woman. Tears streaked down her face, dripping from her chin as she sunk to the floor. She didn’t look like a monster, she looked… human.

The lady reached out a gloved hand, then flinched as if burned. She looked lost and confused and sad; unable to process what she was looking at… or rather, who she was looking at.

A chill ran up your spine, fearful tendrils snaking through your system as you both stared into each other’s eyes.

And then, Lady Dimitrescu uttered a single word, barely a whisper at all, and your stomach dropped. Your world spun.

“Y/N?”

You couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. Everything you had ever known was completely useless, and your life would end at any moment, you were sure. You felt like crying, you felt like throwing up.

She said your name.

Lady Dimitrescu, one of the most powerful supernatural beings in the world, who couldn’t possibly know who you were, had said your name.

It was too much. There were too many strong emotions, too many near-death experiences in one day. Your body was bloody and exhausted, your energy spent.

You collapsed on the dining room floor, and your vision faded to black.

[luckysevenwrites]

I want a Tattoo

Y/n has a thing for tattoos and when they show up to watch the Punch photoshoot they are having a hard time with how good everyone looks. Causing Doyoung’s jealous side to appear.

Part of the long term couples series 

When Doyoung invited you to come watch their photoshoot you weren’t sure what to expect. You knew that they were all going to look gorgeous, they were good looking when they weren’t all done up, but there was no way that you could have possibly prepared yourself for what you were walking into. Following one of their managers you looked around the set taking everything in. You didn’t realize just how much went into a photo shoot. There were props everywhere. Staff running around to get everything prepared.

             “You can wait here they are just finishing up their makeup and they’ll be right out,” the manager tells you pointing to an area of couches and chairs that are set up. You take a seat on the couch and give the manager a nod of understanding. You continue to look around when you hear your name being called out.

             Looking towards the voice that called your name your mouth drops open. Doyoung is making his way towards you dressed in all black. He has on a leather jacket and underneath it is an assortment of chains and straps.  Doyoung smiles as he approaches you and leans in to peck you on the cheek. When he pulls away a smirk appears on his face as you continue to stare at him with your mouth hanging open.

             “Are you trying to catch flies?” He questions, closing your mouth you glare up at him.

             “I don’t like you anymore. How could you invite me here knowing that you were going to look like that!” Waving your arm up and down at him. He should have warned you as your boyfriend it was his job to warn you of any possibly harm that you come your way.

             Rolling his eyes Doyoung takes a seat next to you and pulls you into his side. You try to squirm away. Shoving at his side and lightly kicking him. Doyoung doesn’t let you go and just pulls you in closer to him.

“Seriously Doyoung you should have warned me that you were going to look like this,” you complain giving up on escaping him and letting him pull you in close to his side. You already thought he was hot but seeing him dressed in all black with that leather jacket and chains and belts you weren’t sure if you were going to make it out of this photoshoot alive.

“I think you’re a little dramatic here. This isn’t the first time that you’ve seen me done up for a photoshoot.”

“This is different. I’ve only ever seen you in photo’s not in person. It’s completely different,” you argue. How could he not know the effect that he would have on you.

“Can’t you just say that I look good!” Doyoung protest giving your waist a squeeze. Rolling your eyes at him you soften towards him. If it was anyone else demanding a compliment you wouldn’t give it. But since it was Doyoung you knew that he wasn’t asking for it to be vain. He was asking because he needed the assurance from you that he looked good.

He had been nervous when he invited you to the photoshoot and you were sure that he was still nervous. Doyoung liked to act like things didn’t bother him and that he didn’t care what others thought but you knew differently. You knew that he cared and that he genuinely cared about what you thought of him.

“You look amazing. In fact, you look so good I’m worried I’m going to have to fight off hordes of people wanting to get at you,” leaning into you Doyoung is about to kiss you when another body comes slamming into yours.

“Y/n!” Yuta sings as the two of you fall back onto the couch, Yuta wrapping his arms around you. You hear Doyoung huffing in protest but ignore him for the time being. Instead, you focus your attention on Yuta who is smiling down at you.

“Yuta! You look hot!” The exclamation falls out of your mouth as you take in his bleach blonde hair, tattoos, and black outfit. Doyoung’s ‘hey’ can be heard and the two of you roll your eyes before you sit up.

“Doyoung of course you are the hottest.” You tell him leaning over Yuta to kiss the tip of his nose. Causing Yuta to gag at the display of affection.

“Shut up I’ve seen you being sweet with your girlfriend thousands of times.” You scold Yuta while giving him a small shove. Jaehyun and Johnny arrive next, and your eyes widen at the sight of them causing Doyoung to slump back into the couch, arms crossed over his chest, and a glare firmly in place.

“Hi Y/n glad you could join us.” Johnny smiles at you as you take in him and Jaehyun. Jaehyun has a small smile that graces his face that only widens when he sees the murderous expression that sits on Doyoung’s face.

“I’m just going to say this now whoever came up with this concept is a saint and deserves a raise,” you look around at all the men unable to handle all the black, leather, chains, and tattoos. You always had a thing for men with tattoo’s and seeing all of them done up like this was really making it hard for you to focus. Thankfully Doyoung didn’t have any tattoos on him, or you don’t think you would be breathing.

Johnny and Yuta laugh causing Doyoung to scowl more. Yuta bumps into Doyoung and you smile over at him, “I still like you the best.”

“Y/n don’t lie to Doyoung we saw you checking out our tattoos,” Jaehyun teases and you feel a blush spread across your face.

“Y/n!” Doyoung shouts as you throw up your hands in exasperation.

“What I’m sorry okay! You know that I have a thing for tattoos. The artist who did their tattoos did an amazing job and they look good. You can’t be mad at me for appreciating art. If you had tattoos on you as well, I would be drooling over you more than I already am. So, thank god you don’t have any on you.” You babble as everyone around you but Doyoung smirks.

“So, you’re drooling over them more than me because they have tattoos.” The men around you snicker, and you shoot them all a glare.

“No! I just like them, but I like your look the most okay.” You get up from your spot on the couch to move onto Doyoung’s lap wrapping your arms around him. Doyoung’s arms settle around your waist. “You will always be the hottest person in the room to me.”

“Y/n you’re here!” Taeyong smiles as he walks towards your group, and you try to keep your face neutral you really do but seeing Taeyong with an arm tattoo and that leather vest it’s hard not to react to how good he looks.

“That’s it,” Doyoung stands making you fall off his lap and almost onto the floor if it wasn’t for Yuta catching you, “I want a tattoo.”

You all watch as Doyoung storms off back towards the make up artist. The group of men laugh and shake their heads as you fidget beside Yuta. You didn’t want Doyoung to think that you found his members more attractive than him. Because you didn’t you just really liked the tattoos that were drawn onto them, and you couldn’t help but stare. Like you had told Doyoung if he had any on him you wouldn’t be able to look away from him.

“Don’t worry Y/n he’s fine. You know how Doyoung is he can be touchy and sometimes he let’s his emotions get the better of him,” Yuta assures you. You nod and watch as Doyoung makes his way back towards your group. Everyone disappears as Doyoung nears you and you don’t know if you should thank them or be mad at them for abandoning you.

“Are you getting a tattoo put on you?”

“No,” Doyoung snaps as he looks down at you. Taking a deep breath, you stand so you are level with Doyoung and reach out for his hand. He doesn’t pull away from you and you take that as a good sign.

“Doyoung, I know we haven’t been together long and that we are still figuring each other out but you need to know that just because I like your members look for this photoshoot doesn’t mean that I like them more than you.”

Doyoung hangs his head, and you notice a slight blush that spreads across his cheeks, “I know I just got jealous and not because I think you like them more than me but because you liked their tattoos, and I don’t have any and I guess I just didn’t like them getting any of your attention.”

Stepping into Doyoung’s face you tilt his chin up towards your face so he’s looking into your eyes. You give him a reassuring smile before you give him a gentle kiss on the lips.

“We’ll work on it and if we’re going to be honest with each other I’m glad that you don’t have any tattoos on you. I don’t think I would be able to keep my hands off of you.” Doyoung smiles at that and the two of you relax into one another.

“Now I really want to get a tattoo,” You laugh dropping your head against Doyoung’s chest. He laughs with you, pulling you closer into him.

[fanfickittycat]

One of Us

Title: One of Us

Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen (anime)

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Reader

Genre: Angst to fluff

Fic Summary: You return to Tokyo where you are reunited with the man who broke your heart a decade ago

Rating: T

A/N: my first Nanami fic!!! I love him so much. Just a simple one-shot about rekindling your love after being apart with a fluffy ending. Yes, the title is an ABBA reference, no I will not be taking any questions on it at this time. If you'd like to read this on AO3 then you can here otherwise the fic is below the cut. Let me know what you thought!!!

I’m lucky that I came back during the spring, you thought to yourself, as you meandered around campus. The cherry blossoms were in full bloom, and pink petals danced around your ankles with every step. Even the scent infused itself into the air, carrying a bittersweet undertone to it as you reminisced about your time here as a student. The sound of chalk on the board; the feel of the grass against your cheek as you hit the ground during training; the look on Nanami’s face when he rejected you and this world. It had been spring then too.

“You’re here!” trust Gojo to spoil a melancholy moment. You rolled your eyes playfully, accepting the hair ruffling from your upperclassman with weak jabs back at him.

“Gojo, stop” you laughed “we’re not kids anymore.”

“Says who?” he pulled away, adjusting the black blindfold over his eyes “you still look the same.” He teased, patting your head for emphasis. You still came up a whole head shorter than him and then some.

“You don’t” you retorted “you look old. What are you, like 40?”

“What?! You know I’m not” he whined. He was so easy to wind up sometimes. You half listened to him as he complained to you, citing his skin care routine and the regular comments he got about how youthful he looked before nudging him teasingly. The two of you walked back down the path towards the main building, feeling the nostalgia seep into your bones softly.

“You really haven’t changed” you said with a smirk “still vain as ever.”

“And you’re still as sharp tongued as ever.” He sighed, putting an arm around you “still. I’m glad you’re back. I’ve been waiting for an excuse to throw a party.”

“You’re a lightweight, Gojo” you said, remembering the time he had snuck in vodka during the winter of his final year. He had wanted to show off and ended up throwing up after two shots, before he passed out in the same pile of vomit. He had never snuck in alcohol again.

“You’re not, I remember you and Nanami having a drinking contest one time.”

“It wasn’t a drinking contest. We were just having wine and cheese. It was a very civilised affair.”

“You must have done a lot of that kind of thing in Europe.”

“Not really” you shrugged “it’s not really something to do when you’re alone.” You didn’t mean to sound so sad, but it wasn’t easy to hide, especially from a man with Six Eyes. You were glad he didn’t press you on it, instead opting to blabber on about how great his new first year students were, and his unmatched skill as a teacher. Gojo always seemed to walk the line between being insufferable and incredible. Nanami had often winced whenever he heard Gojo start a new tangent, and you would rub his back reassuringly. It became an unspoken gesture between the two of you. When you’d failed at mastering a new cursed technique, Nanami would be there to hand you a tissue for your bloodied nose and rub soothing circles on your back. Maybe that’s why your final moment together was so sad. You’d told him you loved him, and he told you that he wanted nothing to do with sorcery in exchange for a normal, human life. He’d left you crying, and the absence of his palm on your back made you feel colder and more alone than ever.

“…so the official party is at 7 but the real party will start after. Are you listening?”

“Official party at 7. Real party after.” You repeated “I’ll wear something that can suit both.”

You had wanted to ask Gojo if Nanami was going to be there, but you held your tongue instead. You hadn’t heard anything from him after you two had split ways, with him becoming a salary man and you going abroad to conduct research. You already knew that if you asked, you’d be met with disappointment. Still, perhaps it was better this way. You might actually be able to relax tonight and remember what social interaction felt like. You wouldn’t have to worry about what to say if you saw him there, or overthink the black dress you were planning on wearing tonight. You’d heard that even Utahime was going to be there. You owed it to everyone making an effort for you, to be present and gracious.

The nerves were still there of course. You were happy to see the small collection of former classmates and teachers there, and excited to catch up. It was strange to think of how close you all were once and then you’d left and avoided talking to anyone beyond a few words at a time. Now, the bonds between you were a little rusty but still strong. It calmed the butterflies in your stomach to know that everyone still accepted you, though Utahime scolded you for it. Your eyes kept lingering at the door, in anticipation of him entering the room with a curt apology about his lateness but then you’d catch yourself and internally reprimand your actions.

“You’ve always been too tough on yourself” Utahime said, sipping her tea knowingly.

“Sorry” you apologised lamely, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

She huffed at you “stop apologising, it’s not your fault that men are idiots.” She eyed Gojo, who was trying to impersonate Yoshinobu, and sighed deeply. It made you smile.

“Thanks” you wanted to say something more but the lack of social interaction over the many years constricted your words. You didn’t even know what to say, let alone how to physically say it. Utahime didn’t mind however and squeezed your shoulder.

“God, I can’t stand him” she said, pinching the skin between her eyebrows. You turned to see Gojo laughing obnoxiously at something.

“Still single too, I presume” you said.

“You know he could never be tied down and imagine that poor woman” she groaned “it’s best he stays single. Imagine if he procreated.” She shuddered, making you laugh.

Ieri joined the two of you, shaking her head at her co-worker’s antics “I’m glad you’re back” she said to you “being a woman in this line of work is hard enough, and then you have to deal with that.”

You smiled “I’m glad to be back, even if it’s a little hard sometimes.”

“You know” Ieri looked down at her drink that she had spiked “wounds take time to heal and it’s important to cover them, but you also have to take the bandages off at some point and let it breathe.”

“You’re wise as ever Ieri” you said.

“Hmmm I don’t think so” Utahime said, frowning “if she was so ‘wise’ then she’d quit smoking.” It prompted a whole conversation, part jokes, part argument between the two and then Gojo stepped in to see what was happening which led to him being verbally bullied by the two women as you watched on and laughed.

“You’re all being so mean to me considering I planned this party” Gojo said, mock snivelling “and the after party.”

“That’s true” you said, perking Gojo up instantly “thank you for inviting everyone.”

“We’re not done yet” he said, bringing a corner of his blindfold down to wink at you.

The after party was more chaotic than you had envisioned. Despite not drinking anything, Gojo still managed to scream-sing the lyrics to every song into the karaoke microphone, sometimes even trying to elongate certain sounds in an attempt to emulate Mariah Carey. Needless to say, Utahime was so irritated that she agreed to join Ieri outside while she smoked. You wandered over to the bar and pouring a generous amount of wine into your glass, feeling warm and happy for the first time in a long time. Of course, you knew that it was the alcohol primarily, but it had also been so long since you’d had fun. You were going to allow yourself to enjoy it.

“Didn’t you think I was soulful?” Gojo asked, his grin wide and satisfied like the Cheshire cat.

“Very” you said, watching out the corner of his eye as he poured himself a coke triumphantly “I didn’t even know some of those notes existed.”

He shrugged mock casually “sometimes it’s a curse to be so blessed.” You two continued to talk, laughing at the ridiculous things Gojo said as he sat on the bar stool next to you, leaning casually against the bar. He sat up quickly at one point, looking past you with rapt attention.

“What is it, boy?” you jokingly asked and when he didn’t answer quickly enough you turned to look behind you. There, standing cautiously at the door in a jacket and tie was Nanami.

“Finally,” you heard Gojo murmur but when you turned back to confront him, he had disappeared into thin air. You felt afraid to turn, knowing that Nanami had probably seen you. You felt your heart race in your chest. He was here. This wasn’t a dream or your imagination. The wine made your legs feel weak and shaky as you clumsily stood, pressing your hands down your dress to smooth it out. Your palms felt clammy as you did so. Downing the remainder of the wine in your glass was attractive, but you could already feel his presence near you.

“Nanami” you breathed out, swallowing nervously as you looked up at him. You had often thought about what would happen if you met again and you’d played the scenario in so many ways; one where you were cool and calm, another where you cracked a killer one liner; even one where you’d pull him in for a kiss that would ignite the flames of your relationship. Instead, you felt your nerves shoot through your body and you felt like a mess.

“Your hair” you said lamely, reaching a hand up before stopping yourself and letting your fingers curl into your palm in shame “it’s different.”

“Yes” he seemed taken aback by your sudden note on his appearance “I changed it a while ago.”

“It looks nice” you said, feeling warmth flood your cheeks at your pathetic comment “it suits you.” This wasn’t a lie. The shorter cut emphasised the sharpness of his cheekbones, which looked lethal in the dimmed lighting. He was taller too, if only by a little, and broader as well. You hadn’t anticipated that he’d look better after all this time. It made it hard to think coherently.

“Thank you” he said, “you look well too.” Disappointment already tinged in your stomach. He was just as strict with his feelings now as ever before. You both stood there awkwardly for a couple of seconds, wanting to speak and yet not at the same time.

“How’s normal life working out for you?” You asked, hoping your jovial tone would make things less tense.

“Oh. Well, it didn’t” he said, taking a seat on the barstool and pouring himself a glass of wine to join you “I tried to do it, but I couldn’t. Work is shit.”

Your surprised both you and he when you laughed “and what? This is the height of luxury?”

He smiled into his glass “no, it’s shit, as well but at least I’m better at it.” He raised his glass to you to clink “to this sorcery shit.” You smiled too, eagerly charging your glass to meet his. You watched him sip, allowing yourself to really look at him. Your eyes traced over his profile, drinking in the angles of his jawline and the elegant slope of his nose.

“I’m sure Europe was better” he said, making you snap out of your daze “at the very least, the food must have been delicious.”

“Oh, yeah” you said inattentively, thinking about evenings in foreign capitals where you fell asleep over your work with a half empty bowl of ramen next to you.

“It was interesting, and I learned a lot” you said, repeating what you had told everyone “I’m glad I’m home though.” You looked at him to gauge his reaction. His face was impassive as stone as he nodded. Dejected, you swirled the liquid around your glass, unsure of how to proceed.

“You were so adamant about leaving” you found yourself saying, the wine loosening your tongue “I’d never seen you so determined about something before.”

“I thought I knew everything back then” he sighed “I was so sure that I’d turn my back on this and work hard to maintain a normal life with a stable job, and money, and a family to provide for.”

You felt stunned “I didn’t know you wanted a wife and kids.”

He smiled without humour “well, something like that.” You watched wordlessly as he emptied the glass down his throat.

“I guess this line of work makes it hard to have those kinds of things.” You could picture Nanami in your head, in a dark suit and tie as he kissed his wife and child goodbye before going to work. He’d probably be good at it too. Firm but caring as he helped his child with their maths homework or opened a jar for his wife who would cook dinner for him every night. He’d dote on his family too, taking them to the beach and up the mountains or abroad. He’d probably keep a picture of them on his desk at work too. It pained you that he felt he couldn’t have that; let alone that you could never give him that.

He turned to look at you “well that and I knew I couldn’t tie you down like that.”

“Me?” you couldn’t have hidden your shock if you tried.

“You wanted a career” he said plainly “one that involved research into cursed objects and continuing to improve your skills and techniques. I didn’t want to take that away from you.”

“You didn’t even give me a choice” your throat felt hoarse as you grappled with this new truth “you just made that decision for me.” You stood up, feeling woozy on your tipsy legs but determined all the same to get away. You needed air, and the chance to absorb everything you’d heard. All these years you’d assumed he felt nothing for you, and you’d been so embarrassed and upset that you put yourself in self-exile because of it.

“Would you have gone with me if I asked?” he said, following you up the stairs and out of the basement of the bar. The night air was cold and crisp against your hot body.

“Would you really have given up everything because of me?”

“I did give up everything because of you.” You said, turning to clutch the sleeve of his beige blazer, feeling your heart palpitate as your knuckle brushed the skin of his hand. Tears pricked your eyes and you looked down, feeling the rush of emotions you had kept chained away in the shadows rear its head into the light.

“I’m sorry I realised it all too late” he said, and before you could think he had pulled you into a tight embrace. You fought against him at first, wanting to be angry with him for assuming things on your behalf and making you suffer so miserably for so long, but you couldn’t. You gave in, letting your tears blot onto his rich blue shirt. His tie tickled your cheek as he let you press your face into his chest like you used to. His hand automatically began to take small, gentle laps on your back. He whispered his apologies over and over again, finally pressing a tender kiss on the top of your head.

“Nanami” you mumbled, pulling away so you could look up at him. His eyes were piercing as they regarded you. One of his hands remained on your back, whilst the other came up to cup your cheek fondly.

“I love you” he said quietly, pink appearing in his cheeks as he admitted it to you “and I hope it’s not too late to say it, however I’d understand if you didn’t feel the same. I was awful to you.” He opened his mouth to say something else but stopped when you pressed a finger against his soft lips.

“Kento” you said, tasting the way his name sounded for the first time “I love you too.” He took it as permission to lean down, capturing your lips against his in a kiss that you had been dreaming of since you’d met. He was still cautious as always, not wanting to push you too much, but you couldn’t help but enthusiastically pull him closer, standing on the tips of your toes to be closer to him. You shivered when he opened his mouth to take your bottom lip between his own, sucking on the plump skin as you felt a whisper of wind snake around the two of you, depositing fallen petals on your shoulders like confetti.

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Flowers for Spencer

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Spencer Reid x F!Reader

Summary: Spencer starts receiving flowers from a secret admirer. A different one each day, a different meaning.

A/N: It’s 2am and I decided to write a spencer reid oneshot because i’m completely soft for this man. enjoy.

A white carnation sat on Spencer’s desk when he arrived to work. Just a single flower with no note or indication of who it was from. 

He picked it up with an intrigued expression on his face, gaining the attention of Emily and Derek.

“Whatcha got there, Reid?” Emily asked as she set her things on her desk. 

“Dianthus caryophyllus, also known as a carnation. Different colored carnations represent different meanings. For example, a white carnation represents something being sweet or love.”

Derek snorted, “Someone in love with you, Reid?”

The young doctor shrugs, “I don’t know. I might be looking too much into it. Someone probably just picked a random flower and placed it on my desk.”

Emily cocked her head to the side and looked at Spencer curiously, “No, I think that flower was given to you for a reason, Reid.” Her eyes widened and she stood up from her desk, pointing at the flower, “I bet someone has a crush on you and they’re trying to tell you through the flowers!”

“That’s creepy,” Derek retorted as he took a sip from his coffee. 

Emily rolled her eyes, “Well I think it’s sweet.”

“What’s sweet?” you ask when you approach Spencer and Emily, handing them their respective to-go cups of coffee. 

“Our good doctor here has a secret admirer,” Derek points out with a grin.

You look back at Spencer with a soft smile, “That so?”

He shyly smiles back and shrugs, “It could be nothing. But it’s nice. Never received flowers before.”

“Well whoever it is, that’s very sweet of them. Anyway, JJ said to meet in the briefing room in five. I just gotta grab some files to I’ll see you guys there.”

____________

The next day, Spencer found another flower on his desk. This time it was a

“Bellis perennis, known as the common daisy.” Spencer states when JJ, Derek, Penelope, and Emily gather around him as he holds the flower in between his fingers. 

“And what does this one stand for?” Emily asks.

“Innocence and purity.”

Derek nods in agreement, “I mean, I think that sums you up perfectly, Reid.”

Spencer looks at him confusedly, “Thanks?”

“Okay, okay. Do we know anyone who has a particular fondness of flowers?”

The small group stand in silence for three seconds and proceeded to shake their heads, “Nope. Not a clue.”

You approached everyone with files in your arms and a curious look on your face, “What’s everyone standing around for?”

“Our adorable Doctor Reid received another flower from his secret admirer. They think he’s innocent and pure.” Derek chimes in, answering your question.

“Which I don’t understand, at all.” Spencer retorts. 

“I think it’s cute,” Penelope states, “Guys often don’t receive flowers and I’m glad it’s you, Spencer.”

“Thanks, Garcia.” he replies shyly and then looks back at you, “Do you have any idea who it might be? Have you seen anyone hanging close to my desk lately?”

You give him a shake of your head, “No, sorry, Spence. But I think it’s nice of whoever it is for them to do this.”

He hums in agreement and sits back down at his desk once everyone disperses, “Oh!” his face lights up, “I just remembered, the new edition of Agents of Atlas series released today! If we have time, you wanna come with me to get it?”

“Sure! Maybe afterwards, we can go to the pizza place down the street from there?”

“Sounds like a plan!”

“Great!” you say enthusiastically before following JJ to her office. 

Derek, who witnessed the interaction, rolled over to Spencer’s desk with a smirk on his face, “You and Y/N?”

Spencer already gives him a disapproving look, “We’re just friends.”

“What if she’s your secret admirer? It makes sense right? Ever since JJ hired her as her assistant, you two have been connected at the hip! You’re into the same nerdy stuff, she always listens to you go off on your tangents. She’s sweet and pretty and-”

“And we’re just friends,” Spencer said again with a pointed look, “I don’t-” he paused and let out a sigh, “I don’t think she sees me like that, Morgan. She’s-She’s too good for me.”

It was Derek’s turn to give him a pointed look, “Reid, she’s perfect for you. But fine, whatever. Instead of yearning for some mystery person you have your dream girl right in front of you.” he then rolls back to his desk, getting back into the zone of looking over case files. 

_________

It’s been almost two years since you were hired to be JJ’s assistant. She was an amazing and efficient woman, but she finally caved after she realized that work was consuming her and she needed help. That’s when you stepped in and it was the best thing to ever happen to you. Sort of. Sure, you had to read through some really violent and cruel files, but you also aided in helping save lives. Not to mention, you grew close to the one Doctor Spencer Reid. 

On your first day, you two immediately hit it off. He noticed your Star Trek pin on your bag, quoting a Spock line to you that made you grin from ear to ear. 

You two shared a lot of the same interests and your personalities were fairly similar. Derek had complained that now there were two Reids he had to work with, but you knew he meant it jokingly. 

Getting to know Spencer and growing close with him was something you enjoyed. You loved spending time with him, listening to him ramble and go on random tangents. Everything he said was so remarkably fascinating, you wished he would never stop talking. You grew to like him more than a friend.

Eventually, you realized that your small crush you harbored had grown into something more and you didn’t know what to do. Spencer was the best friend you’ve ever had. He understood you so well and not to mention you two got along fantastically. You just didn’t want to put your friendship at risk. 

So what did you resort to? Leaving him flowers to express how you felt. 

______________

“Is that lavender?” Penelope asked, sniffing the air when she entered the bullpen. 

Derek nodded, “Yup. Another gift from Spencer’s secret admirer. Apparently this one means admiration.”

She looked at Spencer in awe, “Wow. A flower every single day this week, Spencer. This person must really like you! You got an idea who it is yet?”

He shook his head, “Nope.”

That made her confused, “But you’re a profiler. Can’t you figure it out? Oh! Wait! I can hack into the cameras and figure it out for you!” she began to rush towards her office, but Spencer called out to her.

“Please, don’t. I-I don’t wanna embarrass whoever this is.”

“But don’t you wanna know who’s gone sweet on ya?” she asks with a friendly smile.

He shrugs, “Yeah, but-I don’t know. I want them to build up the courage to reveal themselves to me. Plus...I like the attention. No one’s ever given me flowers before, let alone shown this much interest in me.”

Penelope wanted to say something, something that she knew but also didn’t know. She had a hunch, but she didn’t want to rile Spencer up with the risk of her being wrong. So instead, she gave him a smile and a nod, and said, “Understood.”

____________

It was late and everyone had left for the night. A case still in progress, but Hotch ordered everyone to get a good night’s sleep to rest their brains. 

You were the only one left, wanting to finish up some tasks that you haven’t been able to complete since the case had emerged. 

When you were finished, you exited JJ’s office and peered into the bullpen. Empty. So you quickly and carefully pulled out the flower that you planned on giving Spencer. 

You rushed over to his desk, placing it at his workstation, a soft smile on your lips.

“You should tell him,” the voice made you jump with a gasp. Heart on your hand you turned around to see Hotch standing in the doorway of his office. 

“I thought everyone left.” you murmured.

“Just had some things to finish up.” he closed his office door and walked towards you. He stood before you, stuffing his hands in his pockets and nodded towards Spencer’s desk, “You should tell him.”

“I will just not right now. I just-I don’t know how to tell him. And if I do, what if he rejects me? Then our entire friendship is washed down the toilet because I couldn’t control my feelings.”

“He likes you too, Y/N.”

“How do you know?”

“I’m a profiler. It’s my job,” he says with a smirk. He gives you a soft nudge, “Lemme walk you to your car.”

You sighed and agreed, following him out of the bullpen with a plan brewing in your mind.

___________

“Ranunculus,” Spencer’s head shoots up when he hears your voice and sees you staring down at him, “Means you have charm and you’re attractive. But I’m sure you knew that already.”

He clears his throat and sits up more, “Yeah,” he looks down at the flower in his hand and back up at you, “So what do you think of all this? It’s been a week and a half and my secret admirer still hasn’t revealed themselves to me. Should I just treat it as a case and start profiling them?”

A part of you wanted to reject that idea completely, but you had to remain cool. So you shrugged, “Don’t know. Maybe they’re just trying to buy a little bit more time.”

“I think by the end of the week, if they don’t reveal themselves, I’ll just go looking for them instead. Do you think that sounds like a good idea?”

“It’s your life, Spence. You do what you want. My opinion shouldn’t matter.”

“But it does. Your opinion matters a lot to me,” he says softly, a shy grin on his face, one that you came to love.

You hear someone clear their throat and you turn around to see JJ, “Sorry, Y/N, but I need some help.”

“Right, sorry!” you give Spencer a wave and head back to JJ’s office to assist her.

________________

It was the last day of the week and Spencer was disappointed to find his desk lacking a flower. 

His coworkers all peering at the surface, frowns matching his own. 

“No flower?” Emily asked.

“Guess not.”

“Maybe someone took it and threw it away?” Derek asked.

Spencer shook his head, “No. No. I think-I think that means they’re gonna come clean. My secret admirer is going to reveal themselves to me today.”

Cue the group discussing who it could possibly, chattering among themselves sharing their own respective theories. All the while, Spencer plops into his chair and begins to take out a file and notebook from his bag. 

When he hears someone clear their throat, he looks up, eyes catching yours briefly before landing on a single red rose in your hand. 

“Hi,” you greeted him mousily. Nervous butterflies fluttering in your stomach. 

“Hi,” Spencer murmured softly, standing to his feet, “Whatcha got there?”

You look down at the rose, finger delicately grazing along its petals, “For you,” you extend it to him and he takes it, “It’s me. I’m your secret admirer. And if you don’t feel the same, it’s okay. i just-I dunno. You’re kind and smart and funny and wonderful and an amazing friend. I’ve never met anyone like you, Spencer.”

“How long?” 

“Hm?” you look at him now and you see the softness in his eyes.

“How long have you had feelings for me?”

“Three months after I started working here.”

He chuckles in disbelief, “Almost two years and we could’ve been dating during this entire time.”

You look at him confusedly until realization struck you, “You-”

“Yeah,” he says with a smile, “For just as long.”

“Oh,” you say with a shy grin.

“Score!” Penelope and Derek high five, breaking the sweet moment you and Spencer were having. JJ and Emily were digging through their wallets handing over the other two money. 

Realizing what was happening, both you and Spencer looked at them in shock, “You bet on us?!”

“Not necessarily,” Emily murmured in dismay.

“We all made bets on who we thought the secret admirer was. Morgan and Garcia bet it was you.”

“And I did as well,” Hotch added with a smirk on his face as he reached out to collect his winnings.

You scoffed, “That’s not fair, Hotch! You already knew!”

The group looked at their boss in surprise and disappointment. He shrugged, “I caught her placing a flower on his desk last week when everyone left.”

“I’ll be taking that!” Spencer plucked the money out of Hotch’s hands. 

“And what’re you gonna use that money on?” Derek asked.

Spencer looked at you and smiled, “A date.”

[minart-was-taken]

Sort of continuation of this, but it also does stand on it’s own!

Title: A small problem Characters: Ravio, Wind, Minish and Legend Includes threats of violence “Tags:” First meetings - No-one is sure what they’re doing but that’s ok - Zelda shows up!

Enjoy!

Ravio was speechless, a little scared, but most powerfully: mesmerized. Two kids, clearly younger than him and both with bright blond locks that rivaled the sun, were engaged in combat.

Although fists were flying, neither had landed a single hit. When the older one, who he had dubbed Mr. Sailor, threw a hit, the younger one, Mr. Small, would live up to his nickname and shrink to a very small size.

He’d then unshrink, throw a hit himself, and miss as the other pulled quite the leap to get away.

Ravio was simply waiting for one of them to land a hit, and for the situation to escalate badly, as he was too afraid to intervene.

Another crack followed then, they were starting to give Ravio a headache.

From it appeared a pink haired boy, tallest of the people present. He blinked in surprise, glancing around.

His appearance seemed to distract the coat wearing boy, who ended up getting decked in the face and fell over shouting “SHIT!” very loudly.

“Oh my.” Signed the newest arrival, looking at the situation before him with wide eyes. “Am I interrupting something?”

“I’m glad you are.” Ravio responded, walking over to the seemingly sane one, although staying from stabbing range just in case. “I’ve been trying to get these two to stop fighting for ages!”

“No you haven’t!” Grumbled the kid slowly getting himself back from the ground, while the smaller one stood smugly nearby.

“Do I look like someone who could stop a fist fight with force?” Ravio pointed out. “Neither of you listened to reason, so I simply was waiting for an opening.”

“An opening for what?”

He hadn’t had a proper plan. “Why would I tell that? You might fight again and I don’t want you to know what to expect.” However they did not have to know about that.

“Why were they fighting?” the pink one asked.

“He started it.” Coat boy complained.

“Ah. Uhm.” Ravio scratched the back of his head: “From what I could tell, I was simply talking to Mr. Sailor here, then the small one appeared from the bushes and kicked him in the back of the knee.”

“But why?”

“I’m not quite sure.” Ravio confessed.

The stranger tilted his head, confused, before turning to look at the small smug one. “Could you tell us now?”

The very small one scoffed, but signaled for them to follow.

They were in the yard of a small house, and near the window was a little patch of what looked more like weeds than anything else. The kid pointed at one of the weeds that had been very slightly stood upon.

The pink haired one understood, his fist meeting his palm in understanding. “It’s not nice to trample on other people’s plants, Mr. Sailor.”

Coat boy crossed his arms. “I didn’t do it on purpose. I just appeared right there! I would’ve moved if I knew I was standing on a plant.”

“It’s just a big misunderstanding then.” The pink one nodded, kneeling down to be the smallest one’s height. “Next time try to tell him to move before kicking him, okay?”

Mr. Small looked unimpressed, but nodded.

Ravio was just confused as to why anyone would care about such an useless patch of plants. The only valuable thing lost here was a possible alliance between the two small ones.

Kids, oh so dumb. Ravio smiled to himself.

“When you said you appeared-” the Pink one spoke again, standing up and turning to the sailor. “Was it like how I did?”

Mr. Sailor nodded. “Yeah. One moment I was just hammering some nails and suddenly I’m here. Being kicked in the back of my knee. By the smallest bokoblin I’ve ever seen.”

The small one raised a fist, but the pink one grabbed it mid air, and held it still. The small one seemed shocked that someone could- Or more likely- Would try and stop him.

“Oh sorry, I meant rat.” Said the sailor, sticking his tongue out.

“Please stop antagonizing the small child with a sword.” Ravio said in a hushed voice.

The small one was too entranced by having been stopped to care, simply staring at the pink one with wide eyes.

“Huh. What a strange situation.” The pink one continued, ignoring the general chaos. “Well, I suppose if we’re all in it, we should get to know one another. My name is Link. Spelt L-I-N-K”

The smallest one pointed at himself, all the while Mr. Sailor gasped: “Wait- That’s my name too.”

Ravio felt himself tense up a bit, what he had been suspecting was indeed going on, wasn’t it?

The house that looked eerily like the one Link lived in, then there was the clear fact he was in Hyrule, and that there were people who looked eerily like Link but weren’t him…

Oh great goddess of lorule, take him back home please. This is not ideal.

“Hm…” The pink one pondered. “This seems like it’d mean something significant.”

You think? Ravio raised a brow, before shaking off the questioning look to smile politely like a good salesman. “Link isn’t the most common name, so I have to agree.”

He walked closer to the pink one, mostly certain he wouldn’t stab him. With a hand on his back, he continued. “The only Link I know of is the legendary hero of hyrule! It’d be ridiculous for him to be here, though, wouldn’t it?”

“I am he.” Mr. Sailor said.

The tall one blinked at that. “But.. So am I?”

The smallest one dug through his pockets, and pulled out a small note, handing it to Ravio.

Ravio read it out loud to everyone: “Link is the hero of Hyrule, and is allowed to do what he sees fit in order to keep the country safe. Signed, Princess Zelda.”

“...We can’t all be heroes of Hyrule.” Mr. Sailor complained. “And I know for one that I’m not lying, so.”

“There isn’t just one, though.” Ravio spoke up. “Legends speak of a hero in green who appeared centuries ago, perhaps he too had someone before him, and there was someone after.”

“Centuries, though.” Mr. Sailor pointed out, “Do I look a hundred years old to you?”

The smallest one nodded, but Ravio shook his head.

“I’ve heard of stranger things than time travel, in these lands.” Ravio stated.

“I suppose it is a plausible theory.” The pink one pondered, hand on chin. “I know I’m not lying either.”

“And the small one has a letter from the princess.”

“It could be forged.” The sailor pointed out.

Ravio wanted to point out he could tell a forgery from the real thing pretty easily, and had seen enough of Hilda’s writing to know how the royal family conducts it’s deeds. However, that’d make him seem kind of suspicious. “We could go and find out?” Ravio decided to ask instead.

“How?”

“This is clearly the small one’s home, if these are his plants. So this is his Hyrule.” Ravio explained. “Let’s go to the castle, and if the kid is allowed in, it means it’s not forged.”

“I suppose that’s a fair plan.” The pink replied. “And since neither of us are apparently lying, if the letter is real, then- Er, what’s your name?”

“I’m Ravio.” He responded, “The greatest merchant around.”

“Okay- It’s nice to meet you.” The pink one smiled. “Then if all of us are Link like we claim, Ravio’s theory was right.”

“Or some form of it.” Ravio specified.

The pink one nodded. “Very well, little one, could you take us to the castle?”

The smallest one pouted, but began leading the way.

“Holy fuck!” The sailor gasped, looking at the castle once it appeared in the horizon, standing tall yet- A little smaller than Ravio had expected.

The smallest one grinned smugly, walking at a pace more akin to jogging to stay in front of the taller people.

“It’s quite small.” The pink one commented.

“I do agree.” Ravio nodded. “The one I’ve seen is certainly larger.”

“It looks funny.” The pink one smiled, maybe even a little smug.

Ravio took note of it, but did not comment on it.

“So.” The pink one continued. “Your name is Ravio?”

“Like I said, yes.” He nodded. “Are you interested in my wares? I don’t have much on me due to the sudden departure but-”

“Not Link.” He stopped Ravio. “Yet you look a tad like us.”

Ravio blinked, breathing hitched. He missed his hood, but he had been in lorule- He doesn’t need that in Lorule! In Lorule he’s one of a kind!

“I suppose destiny can have a bit of a slip up here and there?” Ravio suggested. Sorry Link, he’d have to steal your identity for a bit here. “I assure you, however, just because I cannot wield a blade does not make me completely useless.”

The pink one simply kept smiling. “Very well, then.”

He hadn’t bought it, had he? Ravio yelled internally, but tried to keep the relaxed facade up.

The castle town was very cute, the sailor looking around with wide eyes, looking like he was taking many internal notes.

What caught Ravio’s eye however, happened a bit later. The smallest showed the letter to a guard by the castle gates, the guard simply sighed, said: “Follow me,” and started walking further into the castle grounds.

“That’s a lot to process.” The pink one spoke again. Ravio had to agree.

They were led to a room to wait- A waiting room, you could say- For the princess to get ready for guests. It matched all the Hyrule castles Ravio had seen, that being one. Stone brick all about, a polished but a little cold interior, with the triforce ever present in all decor.

There were paintings present as well. They seemed to capture the curiosity of all visitors, much to the delight of the smallest one’s ego.

Ravio focused at first on one depicting the princess, she looked similar to the Zelda of the Hyrule he knew, but clearly another person entirely.

He then chose to take a look at the others in their impromptu party, and found the pink one standing under a portrait of  what was likely another hero of courage, this one standing tall with a flowing white cape, and a small red bird on his shoulder.

The sight awakened a memory in Ravio, and he found himself suddenly plunged into a mystery.

There was a mural in his Link’s hyrule castle, one depicting the hero prior to him. Zelda had joked to him and Hilda about how she had read the hero actually had pink hair, but the artists took creative liberties and made it dark blond instead.

This couldn’t be the man who sealed Ganon away, was it? Certainly there had been more than one pink haired Link.

Then again, they seemed to be in a situation which included traveling through space and time. Guess that might as well be a detail.

A guard soon showed up, expressing that the princess was ready.

They headed to the throne room. It was bold, large and voices echoed within it. The large windows made it feel slightly less like a scary space, but it did still make him grow a bit uneasy.

In Front of the aforementioned throne, stood the princess, with a bright but curious smile.

“Link, I didn’t know you had made friends!”

The small one tried to hide in his cape, but was unsuccessful.

“It’s very nice to meet you all.” Zelda smiled brightly, as the boys bowed. Ravio hadn’t been sure if that was to be expected, but the smallest one did have a blade and seemed to be satisfied with them bowing, so perhaps it was a good choice.

The pink one took charge soon after, explaining the predicament they found themselves in. Or at least, theorized they did.

“Oh my.” Zelda gasped. “The hero’s spirit will reincarnate this much?! That’s quite saddening.”

“Has the legend of the hero not existed for long here?” The pink one asked.

“We only know of one before Link here.” Zelda explained. “The hero who arrived from the skies to seal away the great evil, so that humanity could return to the lands below.” She said, clearly quoting something.

“...I guess the seal didn’t last.” Zelda added sadly.

The small one rushed over to her, and offered his hand to her. She took hold of it, and smiled with thankfulness in her eyes at the kid.

“Well, if any of you are like Link here, Hyrule is in good hands.” She smiled again. “I wish I could help more though. I’m not sure at all what could be going on, or what to do about it.”

“Do you have time travel items, or something? Getting home would be nice.” The sailor asked.

“I can ask for research on the topic to be conducted.” Zelda nodded. “Until then, you may stay at the castle, if you’d like.”

“Thank you very much, your highness.” The pink- Okay, he needed a nickname, Ravio decided. Whether he was the legendary hero or not, calling him Mr. Legend should help butter the guy up for possible sales, anyway.

With that, they were led to a guest room. Ravio was both deeply glad they hadn’t been paired up, as every pairing seemed like a bad idea, but was also absolutely terrified of sharing a room with three swordsmen he barely knew. They were also given instructions on how to get to both the castle library and the town’s library. Information which Ravio decided to make use of the next day.

It was fine really, and the beds were very comfortable! It seemed the spirit of the hero made them all sleepy as hell, as well. So getting stabbed seemed unlikely. However one thing still kept Ravio up that night.

“Bunnies, dark hair…” Mr. Legend had signed to him, when it was just the two of them, the sun having started to settle for the night “It reminds me of a place.”

“Oh, heh. A place, huh?” Ravio chuckled nervously. He didn’t like being put on the spot without a plan.

“It was a dreadful place.” Mr. Legend stated. “I hope you’re not related to it in some way.”

“I sure hope so too?” Ravio stumbled to find the words:“It sounds much worse than Hyrule. Love this place, the grass is very green. Smells great.”

“I hope so too.” Mr. Legend smiled, a strange dead look in his eyes. “I don’t want to take another life.”

Then he just started talking about how he liked apples.

So, it would’ve been stranger if Ravio wasn’t having trouble sleeping!

Oh, goddesses above, help him.

[amiableness]

Still Best Friends {1}

word count: 2.6k

warnings: smut

summary: y/n has always liked JJ until they sleep together and things begin to change

a/n: this is horrible but its my first time writing so there is for sure room for improvement

“Truth, Y/n.” You lifted your beer towards John B as your way to tell him to continue. The three of you were lounging around on the boat while drinking beers and playing truth or dare. So far most of them had become truths, you didn’t mind though, you were pretty nosey when it came to your friends.

“Best guy you’ve ever been with?” You let out a quick laugh before taking a drink and sighing.

“No one.”

“No one? Come on, you gotta answer better than that.” John B gave a look as Sarah leaned against his shoulder.

“That’s my answer, guys aren’t as good in bed as they let on.” You knew when the six of you started playing this game, you were gonna run into a question that made you slightly uncomfortable. You had only been with three guys, but none of them were anything to brag about. Your first time you knew it wasn’t going to be anything great, it was your first time, you expected that. However, it never got any better like you had heard it was supposed to, so you gave up on your fantasy of great sex. Maybe that just wasn’t ever going to happen for you. Maybe you were going to have to fake your orgasms for the rest of your life, and once they were gone deal with it yourself.

“You’re telling me you’ve never been with a guy who is good in bed?” Kiara questioned leaning forward to look at you. Pope was sitting next to her, sending you a surprised look. She knew this already, you knew she was just teasing you because she knew about your crush on JJ. After coming over to her house beyond mad that you had yet again another disappointing night in bed, you let it slip that maybe if you hooked up with JJ this wouldn’t happen. She knew you weren’t the type for a random hookup though, and she quickly caught on to your crush.

“That’s what I’m saying, yes.”

“So you’ve never finished with them?” JJ questioned and you quickly tried to hide behind your beer bottle as you looked at him.

“Sorry some guys aren’t as good in bed as you claim to be.” You quickly teased him, receiving a smile and a shake of the head in return. You didn’t want to be having this conversation anymore. Especially if JJ was going to add to it. The idea of having a conversation about your sex life with JJ wasn’t a good idea to you. Especially since he’s the guy who’s in your head as your finish yourself off when the sex is less than pleasing to you.

“Kie, your turn.” You called trying to shake off the attention on you. As comfortable as you felt around your friends, talking about you terrible sex life wasn’t one you were willingly to share. It was embarrassing to you, you didn’t want them all to know that you had never once finished in the bedroom with someone else. You were starting to think that maybe you were the common denominator.

By the time you guys were all walking back to the Chateau from the boat, it was getting pretty dark out. You all seemed to be calling it an early night, which was a bit unusual for all of you. As you all made your way to the tiny, run-down house, you noticed Sarah leaning against John B as he held an arm around her waist. Pope and Kiara were walking ahead of everyone laughing about something quietly. That left you and JJ walking behind the four. You tried not to focus too hard on his presence next to you, but that had never been easy for you.

Ever since you had met the group a few years ago, you had found yourself drawn to JJ. He was unlike any guy you had ever liked before, and maybe that’s why you ended up liking him so much. The only person who knew about your crush on JJ was Kiara, and she kept the secret well. She had tried to convince you to just tell JJ, but you never listened. It was a secret you always wanted to keep hidden.

“Are you heading home after this?” You glanced over at your best friend next to you. The fact he didn’t have a shirt on distracting you briefly.

“Probably, the couples seem to be ready to end the night early.” Even though Kiara and Pope weren’t a couple, you and JJ had always joked they were in secret. You both thought they would work well together.

“Want me to walk you home? I got nothing better to do.” He nudged you softly with his shoulder and you smiled.

“Glad to be your number one choice.”

Sarah was spending the night so John B rushed the rest of you guys out. You quickly said your goodbyes before heading out with JJ towards your house. When Kiara noticed she sent you the biggest grin and a wink which you were really hoping JJ hadn’t seen.

The walk to your house was relatively quiet except for a few jokes every once in a while between the two of you. You tried to ignore how your hands would brush every once in awhile, it made your heart speed up every time. You couldn’t tell if JJ just wasn’t effected by it or he just didn’t notice.

“So, no one at all huh?” You could see your tiny white house coming up ahead of you. Your mom wasn’t home, she rarely was. She was always working, she said she wanted a better life for the two of you. You didn’t mind the life you had, you just wanted her home.

“What?” You hummed.

“Earlier tonight, you haven’t finished with anyone.” Your body tensed and you felt your face heat up. JJ laughed slightly at your reaction.

“Oh, yea no I haven’t.” You waited for JJ to tease you about it and make fun of you just a little, but it never came.

“Damn.” You shrugged your shoulders as you reached your front door and began to unlock it.

“I guess, pretty sure it’s my fault though so I can’t complain. Are you coming in?” It was your usual routine to have JJ hangout at yours for a bit after he walked you home. Sometimes if your mom wasn’t home and he just felt like he couldn’t go home, you let him stay. He always slept in your bed with you, it made you nervous every time, but nothing had ever happened. It was just a friend helping another friend out, how it will always be.

“Yea, if that’s okay.” He answered walking through the door and locking it behind him. You simply nodded. The house was slightly messy from the last time your mom was here, she never had enough time to clean up after herself after she came home from one job and headed to the next.

“Y/n.” You turned around from picking up your mess to see JJ sitting on the couch watching you. You set down the empty glasses you were holding and sat down next to him pulling your legs to the side of you while facing him.

“Yea?”

“Want some help?”

“Oh, it’s okay I just gotta do dishes and-“

“Not with that.” You stopped talking, he wasn’t talking about the dishes. You opened your mouth and closed it, not sure what to say. After those words left his mouth you were aware just how close you were to him and you were sure he could tell you were insanely nervous.

“You mean with sex?” You asked, your voice sounding unsure. JJ laughed a little a ran his hand through his hair.

“Not really helping you, just thought I could be that guy that actually makes you cum.” Was he messing with you? Why would he want to help you out with this? I mean, he would be having sex and since when has JJ ever turned that down.

“I wouldn’t want it to get awkward between us.”

“We’re best friends, that’s never gonna change.” Right, just best friends. Part of you wanted to tell him no, and that it wouldn’t be a good idea. But another part of you wanted to take the one chance with JJ you would ever get with him. You already knew he just saw you as a friend, so it’s not like it would be a big deal to spend one night together. Just sex, just one time.

“Let’s do it, what’s the worst that could happen.” Your voice sounded a lot more confident than you felt. JJ took those words to lean even closer to you than he was, letting his lips brush against yours. Your body froze as his fingers traced your thigh slowly leaving a trail of goosebumps behind them.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this? You’re pretty tense.” JJ drew back a little to get a good look at you and before you could let yourself overthink anything else you, you placed your hands in front of you to steady yourself and placed your lips against his. It didn’t take him long to react, quickly kissing you back and threading his hand through the back of your hair to pull you closer. With him tugging you closer to him, you slid yourself into his lap to kiss him even harder.

You were quickly becoming lost in him as you both let your hands roam and your lips travel. He trailed soft kisses down your neck that had you leaning your head back to give him more room. Your head was spinning and you felt hot. Even with your tank top, bikini top under and shorts on, you were overheating. You knew it was mostly likely due to the boy you have had feeling for so long kissing down your neck and gripping your thighs like he never wanted to let go.

Your moans and sighs we’re getting slightly louder by each passing minute, a little nervous to show JJ just how into it you truly were. You hadn’t ever been thus turned on by a guy before, and it was probably because none of them were ever JJ. Between kisses you felt JJ grip your thighs and pick you up, letting you wrap your legs around his waist. You knew he was heading to your room and the thought of that had you growing more excited than you were before. He sat you on the edge of your bed lifting your arms so he could take off your tank top. You were left in a tiny baby pink bikini top on, you definitely should've gone a size up when you bought it.

“Always thought you looked so fucking hot wearing this.” He mumbles as he pulls away to look at you and his words leave you feeling breathless. You didn’t know he even noticed you when you were in a bikini.

As he kisses around the top he grabs your hand and pulls you up gently, just enough so he can spin you so you back is nearly against him as he undone a the bikini top. Your nipples harden as the top falls and hits the floor. You feel JJ push the hair away from your neck as he leaves soft kisses on your neck. You turn around to kiss him again but he stops you as he looks at your body. He looks completely turned on just by looking at you.

“You’re fucking beautiful, baby.” Your breath hitches at the nick name and you quickly press your lips to his as a thank you.

“Arms up, J.” You grab then hem of his shirt and tug it up and toss it across your room. The first time you’re fully able to stare at JJ and not worry about being caught. He leans you back down so he can kiss across your chest, teasing you by brushing his lips softly against your nipples earring a moan from you every time.

“Quit teasing.” Only then is when he swirls his tongue around your nipple making your back arch.

You find yourself quickly being pressed against the bed again as JJ slips your shorts and underwear down your thighs, leaving you completely bare in front of him. You’re about to protest that he’s still clothed but he slips his shorts and underwear down too.

Seeing him completely naked and hard has made you want him more than you ever thought was possibly. You’re soaking wet by this point, and he knows it.

“Spread your legs.” You do as he tells you and you lean back against the sheets. His large hands hold your thighs and he teases you by running his fingers along the outside of your pussy. With your moans and your whines for him to stop teasing it doesn’t take long before you’re watching his fingers pump in and out of you. He doesn’t let it last long though, and you’re disappointed when he pulls away from you and tells you to sit up.

He places a few kisses to your lips before whispering against them.

“Bend over, baby.”

You lay against the bed and stick your ass into the air and your feel JJ’s hands roaming over your back and your ass. You can hear the packaging of the condom as you lay against the sheets trying to calm your mind. You gasp as you can feel him teasing your clit with his cock before pushing into you, hardly giving you any warning. You let out a loud moan as you sink further into your bed. All the times you had been with other guys they had never wanted to try this position and you were really feeling the difference. The room was filled was the sounds of both your moans and the sounds of JJ thrusting into you. As loud as you two were being, you were really hoping your neighbors couldn’t hear.

JJ teased you with slow thrusts until you were begging for him to fuck you hard. By the time he sped up you were so close and couldn’t stop all the noises falling from your mouth.

“You’re so fucking pretty bent over like this.” He complimented you before sliding back into you as you gripped the sheets and cried out. It felt like ages that you bent over against the bed as JJ had his way with you. Your back was starting to ache but the feeling of him filling you up overpowered that.

He grabbed your hips and flipped you over so you were on your back and spread your legs. His chest was against yours as he slipped back into you and he pressed kisses against your lips and neck as he fucked you.

“I’m not gonna be able to last much longer.” His voice was raspy and it nearly made your eyes roll back. You simply nodded, not trusting that you could even use your voice to tell him you were close too. He fucked you hard the last few times before the two of you were complete messes tangled together as you came. Both your breathing was heavy as he fell against his back pulling you onto his chest. The two of you laid there with your fingers tangled together.

“Still best friends right?” You asked, part of you hoping he’d say something else.

“Still best friends.” He said as he pressed a kiss against your head.

[hournites]

A lot of ways to love you (teach me through your eyes)

Hournite Week Day 7: Love Languages 

Summary: Words of Affirmation, Acts of Service, Gifts, Quality Time, Touch. Or, Rick, Beth, and their many languages of love.

Thank you for coming along on this first HN week journey with me! ❤️

~.~

Words of Affirmation

  Beth found Rick by himself at the corner of their shared history class, carving his initials into the desk. She didn’t understand why he’d put himself there. It was like a brooding corner to be miserable. 

  “Hey,” she said, taking the seat in front of his desk. “What’s wrong?” 

  Rick dug deeper to splinter the wood. “They think I cheated on my chem test.” 

  Without asking, Beth unzipped Rick’s bag to pull out the test. Rick let her. 

  She gaped at him as she scanned over the F and comments from the teacher. He always treated Beth kindly when they passed in the halls, but she never actually had Mr. Geralds. Chemistry wasn’t her strong suit like Rick, but there wasn’t a doubt that she’d given some of the same answers with a great grade from the other science teacher. “Are you serious? That’s crazy. You’re going to contest that, right?”

  “You’re not going to even ask if I did?” 

  “I know you didn’t, you’re too smart.” 

  “I used to steal shit,” he muttered under his breath and dropped his pencil. “Haven’t heard you say I’m too smart for that.” 

  Beth slipped his test into her folder to return to at a later time, right now focusing on Rick. 

  “Hey, that’s not fair.” When Rick wouldn’t meet her eyes, she leaned in closer. “Look at me.” 

  Rick did. 

  “You know you deserved a good grade. And you’ve done what you did to get by.” She glanced at the vandalism briefly. “There are people here who know you’re better than what the majority of the town thinks.” She lowered her voice to keep her next words between them. “You’re a hero. You’ve helped save everyone in this town. So show them who you really are.” 

  She smiled when he let out a small huff, she knew he was listening. “I’ll go to the principal’s office with you, and we can get Pat to vouch for us. We both know that for Chem you should be in AP.” 

  “It’s really not that big of a deal,” he lied, shifting uncomfortably from all her nice words. 

  “If it weren’t a big deal, you wouldn’t have done that.” She pointed at the roughened mess he’d made of the school desk. “I know you better than you think.” 

  Act of Service 

  “Has anyone seen Beth?” 

  Rick walked around the main area of Pat’s cabin. It was after 2 AM. Barbara and Jennie were making late-night comfort food in the kitchen. Pat was manning the first aid station, tending to Mike, Jakeem and Yolanda’s injuries from Sportsmaster. Courtney was bonding or something with the staff in some strange ritual she had after a life-threatening mission. Rick just stepped out of the shower, washing the grime from his arms and face. 

  “She’s upstairs, I think!” Yolanda called, holding her ribs from her seat on top of the table. Rick shook his head when Pat admonished her not to yell. Rick made it up the stairs two at a time, stopping when he found Beth with her packed school bag on the floor in front of the couch. She was searching through papers, openly crying. She hadn’t even taken her cape off yet. 

  Rick crouched down beside her. “Hey,” he said softly. She looked utterly exhausted. “Are you okay? You said you didn’t get hurt.” 

“I’m not hurt.” She hiccuped, flipping through more papers, a little hysterical. It looked like it was for school. “I can’t find my math assignment. It’s due tomorrow morning.”

  “Did you finish it?” he asked. 

  “I don’t remember.” She wiped at her tears as she cried harder. “I might’ve left it at home, I can’t find it. I’m too tired, I can’t think.” 

  “Yeah,” Rick agreed. His bones were weary but he had always felt the least affected after battling it out with the ISA. He suffered plenty of superficial cuts and bruises, but he hardly felt them because his hourglass really protected him. He couldn’t imagine the hit the night must’ve taken on Beth’s body. Pat was going to be driving them back to main Blue Valley at 4 or 5 o’clock in the morning to get them back to school. It wasn’t ideal, but it was a random Wednesday. It’s not like they had a choice. 

  “Did you ask Chuck?” 

  “No.” Her lip wobbled, face contorting into another sob. Rick regretted asking. It was clear she was far too drained. It would’ve been simple to have asked Chuck to scan her bag to find out, but she hadn’t thought of it. 

  “Okay, okay,” Rick said. “Go to bed. You’re not going to be able to do the homework now even if you found it.” Rick got up to get to the top of the stairs, calling down for Barbara. 

  When he returned, he helped her up and managed to get her to let go of her school bag. “We’ll look for it before we leave, okay?” Rick ran a hand through his damp hair, his own eyelids started to droop. “I promise you’ll get it done before school.” 

  Barb joined them upstairs and coaxed Beth to change out of her suit, leading her downstairs with her regular clothes and a promise of a warm bed and tea. 

  Rick followed to grab Chuck when Beth wasn’t looking, turning him on once alone to help identify if this alleged math homework was even in her bag. Together they found what she was talking about. Ten problems of pre-calc. She was right. It was rushed and not done. 

  Rick sighed, tucking it under his arm. He said goodnight to the rest and retired to his assigned room. He turned on the lamp on the desk where he first solved the code of his father’s journal, spreading out the assignment and using Chuck as a calculator. It dawned on him an hour later as he rubbed at his tired eyes how he would be staying up all night to finish homework that wasn’t even his. 

  Gifts 

  Beth was immersed in her book when two hands landed on her collarbone. She looked down, touching the skin at the opening of her shirt when she felt the weight of something new at the base of her throat.

  “What’s this?”

  Rick murmured in her ear from behind. “An early birthday present.”

  She let out a soft gasp when he finished with the clasp. A tiny brass hourglass pendant with sand just like Hourman’s trickled steadily beside her rainbow pendant. 

  “Woah.” She glanced up at him. “You got me an hourglass?” She bit down on her lip, dread creeping into her mind when she realized this had to be expensive. She struggled to voice what she was feeling out loud, but Rick must’ve caught the complicated expression on her face. He smoothed his hand along the sleeve of her cardigan and reassured her the cost didn’t push him into any kind of financial ruin. 

  “Did you not realize I’ve been working for Pat before school? I had some spare cash. Trust me, there’s nothing better I’d spend my money on.” 

  The puzzle clicked into place. Beth had been meeting Rick at the Pit Stop every morning before school for what felt like months now. It made sense he was there to work on the cars. Beth felt her face heat up at his implicit soft-spoken confession. “Thank you,” she said in a whisper, still in awe. The necklace was beautiful and she felt fuzzy ever since his hands were on her neck. “I love it.”

  His eyes, usually hardened and defensive, skilled at warding off unwanted attention, now creased at the corners. Gentle, quiet, yearning, he watched her accept his gift. “I’m glad.”

  Impulsively she asked, “Could you unclasp the rainbow one?”

  Rick did. The chain pooled in her palm. She shook her head, pushing it to his chest. “You should have it.”

  His brows furrowed in response. “You want to give me your... rainbow necklace?”

  She flushed when he said it like that. She toyed with her new one, looking at him from beneath her lashes. “Well…” she said. “I have something of you, now you can have a symbol of me.”

  Rick let out a small laugh. Beth was pretty sure if this were anyone else he’d say it was stupid, so she couldn’t help the surge of pride when he nestled her necklace around his own neck. 

  “How does it look?” 

  It was actually twisted. She flattened it so it would look the way it was supposed to over the collar of his shirt. Rick didn’t complain, but it was bright and cheery and clashed with his entire self. Beth bit her lip, withholding another laugh, and took pity on him, changing her mind to tuck the necklace underneath. “Perfect now.” 

  “Beth, I hate to interrupt this moment but you will be late for school if you don’t leave the Pit Stop in the next five minutes.”

  Chuck broke them out of their weird double transfixion. They both found themselves smiling shyly at each other, neither truly wanting to move. 

  “Come on,” he said after another few moments of them smiling at each other without moving. “Put your bike in my trunk. I’ll drive you.”

  Quality Time

  When Rick stopped by at Beth’s locker, she was talking to Charity, a new close friend she made over the summer volunteering at the Blue Valley Community Centre. 

  “Hey,” Rick greeted, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, waiting for Beth to visit. 

  “Hey,” Charity said back. She swept her blonde bangs out of her face to continue their conversation. 

  “Charity had a great idea that we should enter for the sustainability case competition,” Beth filled in.  

  “We’re going to need at least a month to prepare. I was thinking we could meet Tuesdays and Thursdays after school?” 

  Rick stuck a hand in his pocket, sullen. Thursdays were their days, unofficially. Not that they’ve ever said so out loud, but with JSA training afternoons the rest of the week, Beth working on a case competition their days off basically meant not getting to see her. Which was fine. It happened. Rick just wishes it didn’t have to. 

  “I can’t on Thursdays,” Beth told her. She glanced up at Rick to give him a smile. He straightened up, meeting her gaze with obvious surprise. “Those are our nights.” 

  Charity paused, watching the two with curious eyes. 

  “We can cancel,” Rick found himself saying and actually meaning it. “You don’t have to stay on my account.” 

  Beth’s nose scrunched up as she shook her head, mind already made. “Nah. Sorry Charity, Thursday doesn’t work for me. Take out your schedule, maybe we have a shared free period somewhere.” 

  “Oh, yeah, sure! Okay!” 

  Rick ducked his head to hide his smile as Charity fished through her bag for her agenda.

  Touch 

  When Beth stumbled out of the cell she’d been bound in, she hadn’t realized just how long she’d been gone. She was hungry and exhausted and felt horrifically dirty in her soiled Dr. Mid-Nite suit, but then she got a glimpse of Hourman nearly pushing the others in his rush to get to her all she could feel was relief. 

  Rick cupped her face, eyes squeezed shut as he held her close, his thumbs brushed along her cheeks, under her dry eyes. She felt the buzz of adrenaline rushing through him just by being so near, but the way he touched her was gentle, so gentle.

  “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he whispered, a startling unfamiliar word to fall in succession like that, coming from Rick. His hands flew to the crown of her cowl, tugging it down to kiss her forehead again and again. “Thank you.” 

  I’m okay now, she tried to comfort him, though her words were choked, smothered out by the crushing weight of it all. He was crying as his lips brushed over her face. It wasn’t his stamina. The buzz, she felt. Rick was shaking. It hit her then, that maybe he wasn’t sure Beth was ever going to come back. Beth had scared him. He was scared.  

Beth vaulted with her tired, numb legs, reaching to wrap her arms around his neck. Her mind went calm for the first time since before they left home, muscles relaxing as she let Rick scoop her up. 

  She was safe. She was home.

Beth was loved. 

[wlntrsldler]

unrequited (draco malfoy/ cedric diggory series)

PROMPT: You and Cedric grew up together. After the tragedy of the Triwizard Tournament, you’re left feeling empty without your best friend. Draco Malfoy steps into the picture. Will the feelings be reciprocated? Or will it be unrequited?

WARNINGS: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, fluff, sadness??? slow burn

PAIRING: draco malfoy x reader and cedric diggory x reader; hufflepuff reader

WC: 2.5K+

UNREQUITED MASTERLIST

-

PART 2

The next school year felt empty. You spent the whole summer with your Muggle relatives, not having the heart to go back to the places you spent time in with Cedric. Mr. Diggory fell off the face of the Wizard World, taking time for himself. After the funeral, he bid you a short goodbye, unable to look at your face without seeing the absence of his son. You couldn’t blame him as every time you looked in his eyes, you were haunted by the same emptiness that you saw in Cedric’s eyes before they forced it closed. 

You hadn’t smiled in a long time, not since the day of the final round. Ron, Hermione, and Harry tried their hardest to stay in touch with you but you refused to write back. You couldn’t find it in your heart to reply, your chest growing heavy every time you inked your quill. It didn’t seem right. 

You packed your luggage, grabbing clothes from your closet, ones that you haven’t touched since your arrival to the Muggle world. You forced yourself to detach from the Wizard world for the time being, wanting nothing else but to forget the pain you endured in your last moments at Hogwarts. It never truly worked, really. Every night you looked up to the sky and watched the stars twinkle and thought of Cedric. The color of the sunflowers planted in your aunt’s front garden, beamed with brightness and the color of happiness, and all you thought of was Cedric. The smell of fresh parchment and the aroma of his scent tormented you when you found yourself stumbling into the rabbit hole of gifts he gave you over the years; You missed Cedric terribly.

As you zipped up your last bag, the lone, yellow sweater stayed still on the hanger. The blood stain seemed to glow, reminding you of the harsh reality you had to face. Cedric is gone and he’s not coming back. You gulped, hands trailing over the intricate detail of the yellow sweater. You could still feel him. 

As you boarded the train, you shuffled past your fellow Hogwarts students, trying to find the Golden Trio. You hoped that they didn’t harbor any hard feelings due to your absence. They seemed to be the only ones you had left and you realized as you knocked on the door that separated you from them, that you might’ve just lost them too. 

“Would it be alright if I sat with you all?” You asked, voice small and trembling as their intense gaze fell upon you. 

The three stared at you, eyes showing nothing but concern over their broken friend. Hermione smiled sadly at you, scooting over her seat to make some room for you. Ron took your heavy bag and placed it beside him, helping you carry the burden of loneliness with a simple gesture. Harry grabbed your hand and gave it a squeeze as you passed by him to get to your seat. You returned the act, not having enough energy in your body to do much else. 

The space was silent. The giggling of students from the other side of the door sometimes catching your attention. You heard familiar voices, laughing, getting closer to where you sat. The twins arrived in front of the door, grinning widely when they saw you propped up against the window. 

Fred opened the door, allowing George to come in first and he followed right after. “Y/N! Nice to see you. We missed you.” 

“Nice to see you, as well.” You replied, getting up to embrace the two. 

“We were about to hunt you down ourselves if Ron didn’t stop pacing in his room wondering about your whereabouts.” George complained. 

“Yeah, he’s a room above us and he kept us up all night! Sometimes Harry and Hermione would join him and it’s three times worse!” Fred added on. “But we’re glad you’re back.” 

You couldn’t help but smile at their words. Your cheeks cramped up at the sensation of the unfamiliar feeling. You couldn’t remember the last time you smiled. You buried your head in between the two some more before laughing slightly once you heard Ron’s protests. Hermione and Harry joined a little bit after, enjoying the smile that graced your features for the first time since Cedric. 

When you arrived at Hogwarts, your heart sunk knowing that it was the first time that you would be walking to the Hufflepuff dormitories by yourself, without Cedric by your side. Besides Cedric, you really didn’t know anyone in your house. You often hung out with the Trio, the Weasleys, and Cedric, nobody else. You walked up the stairs on your own, trying to ignore the looks of pity that other Hufflepuffs shot your way. Of course everyone knew how close you and Cedric were. And of course everyone knew how much his death took a toll on you. 

You ignored the hushed whispers that welcomed you when you walked into the dormitories. You rolled your eyes at their failed attempts to be discrete, glaring at them when you caught them staring at you with their nosy eyes. You shook your head, tugging at the sleeve of your robe. 

Once you were settled in, you made it your mission to stay away from Hufflepuff’s side of the castle. A fear that you’ve always had in your heart started to bubble inside of you. A part of you always felt like you were only placed in Hufflepuff because Cedric played a huge role in your life. It was like once he vanished, the aspects of you that are meant to be in Hufflepuff left with him. After all, he was the only one who even assured you that you belonged where he was placed. You were sure everyone else in the house saw traces of the other houses in you. 

You sat by yourself in the garden, reading a book on Potions with scribbles written along the margins. Cedric’s messy handwriting always did make it difficult for you to follow along. You closed the book, suddenly feeling overwhelmed with the idea of him crashing down on you in waves. You hadn’t thought about Cedric in so long but now that you’re back in Hogwarts, it was inevitable. 

If it wasn’t the framed picture of him that greeted you once the gates opened, then it was the way students whispered his name under their breaths fearing that you might break down if you heard it spoken from their lips. If it wasn’t the lack of his presence beside you as you sat on the corner right side of the bench, being so used to him sitting to your left, then it was you turning, out of habit, to ask him what this word written in his book was and then realizing that he wasn’t there to answer. If it wasn’t the sound of laughter from across the hall, that so greatly reminded you of his, then it was the smell of the garden drawing you to the secret passageway he used to help you escape in at night. 

“Y/N!” 

You looked up from your feet to see the twins walking happily towards you. You placed the book beside you and looked up at the two boys. “Hello, boys. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“We are planning a fun prank for tonight.” George admitted, silencing his voice to where only you and Fred could hear it. 

“It is our last year after all.” Fred continued. “But we need your help.” 

You cocked an eyebrow, “How can I be of service, Weasleys?” 

“We need a look out.” They said in unison. “We’re planning to sneak out after hours and start a light show. Explosions in the air, in all colors. No harm, of course, but just something to ruffle their feathers.” 

“What do you need me to do?” You asked, intrigued by their plan. 

“We just need you to let us know when any of Umbridge’s little brats are coming. They’re the ones patrolling now and we lost our privileges as Head Boys.” Fred stated, his disapproval of Umbridge evident in his voice. 

“Yeah, the prank is totally harmless. We reckoned everyone just needs a pick me up with everything going on right now.” 

“I’m in.” You smiled. “You two always did know what’s best for us all in times of uncertainty.” 

“That’s our job, Y/N.” They chirped before waving goodbye. “Meet us outside the Great Hall once they call lights out.” 

Time seemed to move awfully slow. The moments leading up to the night dragged on forever. You couldn’t contain your excitement the entire day. The Trio knew of the plan, telling you to calm down when you got too giddy, in fear that someone might catch on. But you couldn’t help it. It was the first time that you'd been excited about something; Something other than the mark of the day ending. 

By the time they called lights out, you nearly sprinted to the designated meeting place. You tiptoed down the hall, looking around for the two gingers that formulated the plan. All of the other students, besides the Slytherins, knew of the plan and they all played along like it was a normal night but in reality, they were all waiting for the show to begin. 

Once you spotted the boys, you rushed over to their side, giving them a brief hug before starting your job as a lookout. 

“Malfoy is out tonight,” Fred started, head turning left and right to make sure that nobody was coming. “So be careful. You know he gets.” 

You haven’t seen Malfoy since the day Cedric passed. You knew that he was aware that Cedric is no longer here but you didn’t know how he would treat you because of it. But knowing Malfoy, not much will change. He’ll continue to be the spoiled, rotten, Slytherin prince that he is, with no care for people’s feelings. He lacked empathy and sometimes you wondered if it’s because nobody ever showed him what that meant. 

You pushed the thought out of your head, clearing your mind from the complexities that is Draco Malfoy. You grinned up at the twins and prepared to do your job. Before the twins could ever step away from you to start the prank, Umbridge’s booming voice startled the three of you. 

“Weasleys!” She screeched, her shadow emerging from the corner. “I know about what you’re planning to do!”

The twins looked at each other, then looked at you. They let out a wild laugh, unphased that they might have to make a run for their lives in just a few seconds. They pushed you towards the other direction yelling, “Run, Y/L/N!”

Your eyes widened but you obeyed their orders. You ran as fast as your legs could take you, zigzagging through the halls. You didn’t realize that your feet were following an all too familiar path, a path that you haven’t graced upon in what feels like lifetimes. You stopped in front of the door to the secret passageway, air knocked out of your lungs. You could see the faint outline of the carving of your initials on the cobblestone wall that served to hide the door. You touched the marking with your finger, smiling fondly at the memory of the one who etched it. 

“What are you doing here?” 

You turned, shocked that you were no longer alone. You saw Draco, staring at you intently, eyes bright under his pale skin. He was wearing his Slytherin robe, wand at the ready in his right hand. His finger housed his Slytherin ring, a snake that seemed to hiss when you made eye contact with its emerald green eyes. He looked at you up and down, confused about your disheveled appearance. You realized then how crazy you must’ve looked; Hair in disarray from running against the motion of the wind, pajamas peeking out from under the Hufflepuff robe you wore, and tear stained cheeks. 

“Nothing,” You replied, facing away from the door, hoping that you didn’t cause much attention to it already. “Just making my way back up to the dormitories.” 

“Dormitories are the opposite direction.” 

“Must’ve gotten lost,” You said nonchalantly, slowly walking away from the situation. “It’s been a while since I’ve been here.”

“Wait..” Draco mumbled, following you as you treaded away from him, as inconspicuous as you could manage. “You were with the Weasleys weren’t you?” 

Your face dropped, “Malfoy, we were just having a bit of fun. No harm was going to be done.” 

Draco continued to stare, taking in your appearance. You were thinner than he remembered. Your eyes were sunken in their sockets, the color on your face drained, your hair grew longer too. He saw that you kept twiddling your thumbs, a sign of anxiousness maybe? Your robe also seemed to engulf you, as if you were drowning in the fabric. You couldn't possibly have gotten that much smaller. Then he realized the robe wasn’t yours. 

“Just make your way back to the dormitories.” He sighed, pointing his wand in the direction. “Don’t let Umbridge catch you.” 

You nodded your head, making your way back. You turned away from him before he could catch the expression on your face. Was Draco Malfoy actually kind? You thought of the simple gesture your entire way back to the dormitories. Why was it that he let you off the hook like that? You tried to think of moments where Draco was kind. There wasn’t much that you could think of. Your mind was littered with instances where he called Hermione a “Mudblood” and you a pathetic Hufflepuff. He constantly enraged Ron and Harry with his comments and used his power and status to make everyone else’s life a living hell. 

He wasn’t even kind to Cedric, a boy two years his senior. Draco was kinder to him, though, compared to other students, but he was still brutal nonetheless. Maybe he felt bad that you lost your only friend. But even that thought comes with the assumption that Draco understands the principle of pity and to do so would insinuate that he has a heart. Perhaps he does, you thought, but why does he insist on not showing it?

The word spread around that the Weasley twins got caught and the light show was not going to happen tonight. The students were disappointed as they were looking forward to the escape from reality that it would’ve brought them for even just a few moments. Umbridge’s reign was taking on everybody, it seemed. 

You snuggled into your covers that night, mind split into thinking of two different people. Cedric lingered in your dreams, but honestly there hasn’t been a day where he wasn’t occupying your thoughts. But tonight, you dreamt of a different boy; broken in nature, lonely, it seemed, with hair of snow and eyes of a clouded sea, of a high ranking family and deadly expectations. 

-

TAGS ARE OPEN! SEND AN ASK

@melancholiaflowers @jjjmaybank

[honey-dewey]

All the Write Places

Pairing: Javier Peña/Reader

Word Count: 3,041

Warnings: Mentions of canon typical violence, some use of (Y/N)

Permanent Taglist: @phoenixhalliwell @star-wars-hell

A collection of letters between the Reader, who is still in Texas with Javier’s family, and Javier while he’s hunting Escobar in Columbia. 

Mi Amor,

It’s Javier again. I know it’s been too long since my last letter, but the DEA doesn’t want any of my personal information to be intercepted. Steve is doing well. He and Connie just adopted a baby. I think her name is Olivia.

I’m sorry I haven’t called in a while. It’s for the same reason I don’t write all too often. I can’t wait to see you again, I promise it will be soon.

Yours forever, Javier.

P.S. keep an eye out for a package.

———

My Javi,

I miss you so much my dear. Your last letter brought me to tears, and I’m over the moon about the package. The jacket is huge on me, but it smells just like you. You be sure to give the Murphys my love, and kiss their little girl for me.

Things are alright here at home. Your mother treats me like one of her own kids, and it’s very sweet. Your father has begun to teach me Spanish, and your cousins constantly ask about when their Uncle Javi is coming home.

We all miss you, but I miss you most my dear. I can’t wait to see you again.

Yours truly, (Y/N).

———

Mi Amor,

The Murphys insist I tell you Olivia is doing well and has received your love. The hunt is long, but the promise of you waiting for me at home is a sure comfort.

I apologize, but I must keep my letters short. Just know that I love you and I will be coming home. I promise.

Yours forever, Javier.

———

Mi Corazón,

I know you must keep your letters short, but your mother insists you write more. She misses you dearly. I don’t think she understands the gravity of your job. Your father understands. He is worried for you, and his brother helped him rig his radio to listen to the Colombian news. Every time I hear that name, I shiver. He’s a horrible horrible man, and I cannot wait to see him rot in prison.

To keep this letter happy, I want to tell you your sister is pregnant! She’s overjoyed, and so am I. I know you won’t be home to meet the baby, but I’ll send photos, just as I always do.

I love you my dear. I’ll wait for you to return to me, no matter how long that is.

Yours truly, (Y/N).

———

Mi Amor,

The pictures were just what I needed. They are in my apartment, and I put the one of you and my parents on my desk so you’re always with me.

Tell my sister I’m proud of her and cannot wait to meet my niece or nephew. With luck, we’ll be home soon.

I’m sending another package for you and the family. I love you.

Yours forever, Javier.

———

Mi Corazón,

The pregnancy continues to go well, and the kids loved your package. I’m glad you enjoyed the photos.

Unfortunately, I don’t know when I’ll be able to write again. I know it’s hard for you, but my mother just passed, and I’m headed back north for the funeral and to spend some time with my dad. I’ll give them your love, as always.

I wish you were by my side, Javier. The days seem so long without you.

Yours truly, (Y/N).

———

Mi Corazón

You shouldn’t have called me Javier. It was risky, for the both of us. However, I do so desperately miss your voice. I’m glad I got to speak with you.

I promised I’d write when I returned to Texas, and I am home beside your family once more. They’re all jealous I got to speak with you, but the adults understand. Your mother especially understood, and made me swear to tell you she wants you to call for Christmas.

Javier, if at all possible, please listen to that annoying American station on the radio, you know the one that’s obsessed with 50’s music? We listen every night during dinner, and it would warm my heart if I knew you were listening too.

Give Murphy my love. Tell him I can’t wait to meet him one day.

Yours truly, (Y/N).

———

Mi Amor,

I apologize for the call, but you must understand why I risked it. I couldn’t have you grieve alone, not without me to help you through that pain.

I do know the station you wrote about, and I agree it’s annoying. The boys at the office like it, and it’s on while we work. Knowing you listen to it too, it makes my heart swell. One day, we’ll listen to those old songs together, I promise.

My letters will be few and far between, and I apologize. Things are getting worse here, but I vow to return to you alive and whole.

Yours forever, Javier.

———

Mi Corazón,

You mother has decided our song is that Bobby Darrin song that plays every day. The one about the man who’s away from his woman and wishes he could grow wings and fly to her side? Beyond the Sea, she says it’s called.

Your father always changes the station when he thinks we’re all asleep. He listens to the Colombian news, and I think he prays. You said he doesn’t miss you, but he does. He absolutely does.

In other news, your sister is about ready to pop. She’s always complaining about how much her back hurts, and she’s adamant that the baby is staying in all nine months only to make her suffer. I’ve enclosed pictures, because we all painted her stomach and it was hilarious.

I hope to hear from you again before Christmas. The holidays haven’t been the same without you.

Yours truly, (Y/N).

———

Mi Amor,

And I thought my family decorated for Christmas. Columbia has some of the nicest holiday decorations I’ve ever seen. I tried to get Murphy to photograph them, but they didn’t turn out quite right. I’ve sent them anyway.

Tell my sister I cannot wait to meet my niece or nephew. I’m sure that tiny bundle of joy will be just what you need over the holidays.

The Embassy is allowing me to call on Christmas, and I’m allowed to stay on the line for as long as it’s safe. With the precautions they’ve taken, I might even be able to talk with you for hours, my love. I cannot wait. It will be the best Christmas present, being able to hear your voice.

Yours forever, Javier.

———

Mi Corazón,

I don’t know when this letter will reach you, but the baby came today! Only a day before Christmas. Your sister is pissed that she’ll be spending Christmas in the hospital, but the baby, a beautiful little girl, is so cute. She’s lifted everyone’s spirits, and the promise of your call tomorrow is only making them happier.

I know this will be our reality for as long as it just be, but I want you home Javier. It sounds selfish, I know, but I want you beside me, no matter the price. Please come home soon, my love, or I fear I may forget you.

I’m eagerly awaiting your call. I’ll talk to you soon.

Yours truly, (Y/N).

———

Mi Amor,

Hearing your voice was just what I needed today. I assume I’ll be receiving a letter soon that tells me my sister had her baby, but I couldn’t wait to write.

My love, I have a surprise for you. Before you get excited, I’m not coming home soon. The fight only grows harder, and I don’t know if I’ll be home for years. But I found you a gift, one I know you’ll adore. I must be there to give it to you, in person. I know, how cruel of me to deny you your gift for what may be years. Just know, I will never forget it. It sits on my desk and Murphy teases me about it relentlessly. One day, I’ll give it to you. One day.

I’ll see you again, my love. I swear it.

Yours forever, Javier.

———

Mi Corazón,

Your last letter stunned me Javi! You must’ve written that as soon as we hung up. As for the gift, it will be aging waiting for it. Am I allowed to guess? Will you tell me when I get it right?

Your mother was a bit disappointed you couldn’t be with us for Christmas. She made an absolutely heavenly apple pie that she said is your favorite.

The baby grows stronger with every passing day. Maybe one day, she and the Murphy’s little girl can be friends. I think they’d like that.

I’ll see you soon Javier.

Yours truly, (F/N).

———

Mi Amor,

This will be hard to hear. I’ve had trouble simply writing it, and I know it will be hell to read. I have to stop sending letters. One of the DEA’s men wrote a letter to his wife, and two days later he was found dead in a river. It won’t be forever, and I will still receive every letter you send me as long as you keep mailing them they way you are, but we cannot risk anyone finding me right now.

To answer your previous question, yes. Please guess what the gift is. I bet you’ll never be able to guess.

I’ll write as soon as I can.

Yours forever, Javier.

———

Mi Corazón,

Not knowing whether you’ve received my letters will be torture Javi. But, as you’ve told me many times, I must remain strong. I will admit I cried when your last letter arrived, but then I imagined you sitting next to a radio, listening to our song at the same time I did, and it was like you were beside me. I miss you dearly Javier, but I will remain brave until your next letter arrives.

Until then, I will simply have to keep you updated. The baby is almost three months now and starting to be a troublemaker, just like her uncle. Your sister jokes her first word will be ‘Javi’ with how much we speak of you around the house.

I also heard, via phone, that Connie is back in the states with Olivia. She says Columbia was just too much, but promised to come and visit me. Give Steve my condolences, I know it must be hard.

Until my next letter, I love you dear.

Yours truly, (F/N).

P.S. Is the gift that book I spoke of over Christmas?

———

Mi Corazón,

Another month, another letter. Now, I make no effort to conceal myself when I listen to the Columbian news with your father and mother. Your mother cries, and your father prays. Sometimes I cry with her, and sometimes I pray with him. It’s hard, not knowing who’s reading this letter first.

Connie came to visit, and she brought Olivia. She’s such a sweet thing, and she adores your cousins. She told me about what she’s seen, what’s happened to her, and I wish for you home more than ever. It sounds horrible, her retellings coupled with the news I barely understand, it sounds awful. The price on your head, and yet you walk around anyway. Please, my heart, be careful. I cannot lose you.

Yours truly, (Y/N).

P.S. This guessing game is such fun. Your sister gave me an idea. Is your gift a camera? I doubt it is, but she wanted me to ask.

———

Mi Corazón,

I apologize for not writing for months. I was traveling to visit my father. He had a health scare and wanted me by his side.

The baby is almost eight months now! Her first word was ‘Javi,’ and we all had a big laugh about it. It’s painful not having you here, or at least having letters.

I listen to our song every night, whenever it’s on the radio. Your sister teases me for it, but I don’t care. It connects me to you. To makes me wonder if some day, we could have a future where there’s no threat, where we could be together.

Please promise me Javier, you won’t get involved with any of this dangerous shit happening in Columbia if you can help it.

Yours truly, (Y/N).

P.S. is the gift jewelry? Your mother thinks it’s a ring.

———

Mi Amor,

I have another torturous request. Please stop writing. Your last letter was intercepted by his men and it was almost very bad. Before I go, please know I listen to our song every night. Tell my sister I love her and her tiny troublemaker, my mother I wish I were home, and my father I’m grateful for the prayers. As for you, I miss you so much my love. I tried to delay the inevitable, but we must stop communicating. I love you, no matter how far apart we are. I’ll write as soon as it’s safe.

Yours forever, Javier.

P.S. No it isn’t the book, no it isn’t a camera, and yes it is jewelry.

———

Mi Amor,

Are you still the same person I wrote to years ago? How’s my sister and my niece, and my parents? How are you? And your father? Murphy and I are good, if a little stressed, because I know you’ll ask.

Things have gone maddeningly quiet. He’s gone, it seems. Disappeared, but I’m sure the radio told you. I know you asked me not to get involved, but I did, and I think I’m in trouble for it. Big trouble.

Anyway, I may be home soon, depending on how it all goes. I cannot wait to kiss you again.

Apologies for such a short message after years of nothing. I missed so much, you’ll have to tell me all about it.

Yours forever, Javier.

———

Mi Amor,

Please tell me these letters are reaching you. Are you still with my parents? Should I call? I think I will, at the end of the week. It’s Monday now. I guess I should tell you, right?

I received good news for you today. They’re sending me home. I know, he isn’t dead yet. But every action has a consequence and unfortunately mine are sending me home before my job is done. Murphy is understandably upset. Yelled for almost twenty minutes about how it wasn’t fair. I’d put my life on hold for almost a decade to catch Escobar, it was only right I was there when he was brought down.

But life isn’t like that, and I’ll be on a plane home in a week or two. I can’t wait to see you. I hope you’re still waiting for me.

Yours forever, Javier.

———

“Mi hija?”

You looked around, seeing Javier’s mother come out for you. The tinny radio playing your song flickered next to your leg. It was on repeat, on a CD Javier’s cousin had burned for you. You’d taken to sitting on the porch swing after dinner was over, simply to take your mind off things. The letters were stacked beside you, the newest one on top. You hadn’t had the energy to even open the new ones. What could you possibly say after years apart? Who would he be? Was he still your Javier?

“Mi hija?”

“Yes mamá?”

Javier’s mother sat beside you. “There’s a new letter in the kitchen for you.”

You smiled. “Okay.”

Standing and gathering your letters and the radio, you followed Javier’s mother into the kitchen. It was warm, and there was an envelope with your name on it resting on the counter.

Picking it up, you turned it over to see two tiny words scrawled across the back.

Open me

You popped the letter open, seeing a small card inside.

The porch. Hurry, before the sun goes down.

Confused, you headed back outside, where the sun had just begun to paint the sky. There was someone on the porch swing, rocking back and forth and humming your song, the same song that was playing from the radio by his side.

The creak of the porch door brought his attention to you, and you immediately put your hands over your mouth and sobbed. “Javi.”

“Mi amor,” he said, standing and wrapping you in a hug. “Oh how I’ve missed you. I promised I’d come home.”

“You did,” you said weakly, collapsing into the hug. “Oh Javier, my heart I’ve missed you.”

Javier kissed the top of your head, smiling as you pulled away a bit. “May I have this dance?”

You laughed, beginning to sway as Javier swayed, both humming your song.

Eventually, once the sun had set completely and the Texas stars were out, you and Javier separated, sitting together on the porch swing.

“Oh,” Javier said, standing suddenly. “Your gift!”

You smiled. “You forgot?”

“I was too busy with something else,” Javier said. “But I think I’ve made you wait long enough, mi amor. Close your eyes.”

You did, closing your eyes and hearing him shuffle in front of you. After a minute of silence, Javier spoke. “Open your eyes.”

Opening your eyes, you gasped. Javier was on one knee before you, holding out a gorgeous ring. “I knew,” he whispered softly. “I knew the minute I received your first letter that I wanted to marry you. If we had been married all those years ago, you would’ve been able to come with me, to have me by your side. And now, if you’ll have me, I want to remain here, with you at my side and with me at yours, for the rest of my life. No more letters, my love.”

You nodded, crying as you practically threw yourself into Javier’s arms. “Yes!” You said happily. “Yes!”

Javier smiled, sliding the ring onto your finger. A perfect fit. “Now we’ll always be together,” he said, kissing your knuckles. “Always.”

Kissing Javier firmly, you nodded. “Always. No matter what.”

And you did stick together. The day he got sent back, you packed a bag and boarded the plane right beside him, ready for whatever horrors would await you. He didn’t want you going, but you insisted. Together always, no matter what.

[fiction-boys-rule]

Imagine...joining the Leverage team and liking Eliot.

Pairing: Eliot Spencer/(Y/N)

Warnings: slight violence, fluff

Word Count: 2,200

Boring real life has been very stressful lately so writing has been non existent. If any of you have any ideas or requests, I am happy to take them. The characters I write for are very limited and this year I’m working on changing that, so my apologies. Hope you enjoy :)

You blow out the candles, smiling as the team claps and cheers. Nate holds up his glass from his position on the couch, making you roll your eyes and smile. 

“Did you make a wish?” Parker asks, gazing up at you. 

“Yeah.” 

“What was it?” Hardison asks. 

Parker quickly slaps his forearm, making him protest and glare over at her. 

“What the-“

“You know that if you say a birthday wish out loud it doesn’t count!”

“Why not? That’s kids stuff.” He frowns.

“It doesn’t come true! And it’s not kids stuff!” Parker glares at him. 

“Alright, guys. I won’t say my wish, okay? Let’s just have some cake.” You intervene.

Sophie smiles over at you before you cut the cake and serve everyone. Later, you gratefully take a glass of whiskey from Nate and enjoy the silence of the apartment. Everyone else has gone off to do other things while Nate and you  decided to stay behind. 

“I know I promised I wouldn’t say my wish, but can I still say it?”

Nate leans back in his chair, lazily looking over at you.

“Well, I don’t believe in those things. If you don’t put it out there and chase it, how will you get it? I guess you can consider me the devils advocate here.”

“Alright. I’ll indulge you. My wish was to finally be able to go out and help you guys.”

“Help us?” He eyes you warily.

“Yeah. I mean I know I do already in my own way but I just really want to see what it’s like out there. Even if it’s just being in the background.”

“You’re already in the background. With Hardison. Safe background.”

You roll your eyes.

“Not what I meant. Don’t you want me to see how this works? I mean you always complain that I don’t get it. So let me get it. Come on. I promise I’ll listen to you and play it safe. But let me have some fun, please!”

“That’s the problem. It’s not ‘fun’ out there, kid. It’s a job. I don’t know if you can handle it.”

“Handle it? You know what I can’t handle? Hardison for one more day! No offense to him but I can’t stand another day stuck with him in that hot van! I can’t, Nate! I’m going crazy! Stir crazy! Can you at least let me do this once? Please!”

“What’s so bad with Hardison?”

“Parker this, Parker that. He’s always talking about her and I wouldn’t mind it if he actually went and told her how he feels! He reminds me of someone I know and I can’t stand it!”

“That person you know is that bad?”

“Yes, he is! And he’s not granting me my birthday wish!”

You lean back and sigh, glaring at him. He sighs, holding his face in his hands. 

“Bad enough I have to accommodate everyone else and now you? You’re the one I like because you never ask for anything!”

“I’m asking for one thing and suddenly you don’t like me?”

He grumbles, sighing heavily and rubbing his face. 

“The alcohols not going to kill me, it’s going to be you or Sophie.”

“Oh, I guarantee you that. We’re already planning your murder. We have plans A to C done. How much does your ex hate you by the way?���

He suddenly looks up and sends you an annoyed glare. You laugh softly, running your fingertips on the rim of your glass. 

“You remember how I had that friend whose dad owns a whiskey company? Well, they offer care packages for people they know and the discounts are so good. But it’s not my favorite and I don’t want it to go to waste. Don’t want my friend to think I’m taking advantage of them. But they did offer me a full tour of their distillery. Full of test tasting, complimentary dinner, drinks-“

“Sophie is going to kill me.” He groans, shaking his head side to side.

“Well that was going to happen either way.”

He groans, taking a bigger swig. 

“Just listen to everyone and don’t get in the way of them doing their job. I’m pairing you with Eliot. So far you’ve been getting along. I think he likes you.”

“Likes me?” You stutter. 

How would Nate know about your crush on Eliot? How would anyone know?

“Yeah, well he brings you your favorite drink every day and he got you that gift.”

“He doesn’t like me.”

“I’m not doing this right now. Leave me in peace and regret and I’ll update the team later.”

You slowly get up and smile as soon as you close his office door. Checkmate.

Time Skip

"While I'm proud of you, we don't know who we are dealing with exactly. You've seen it before. Us, the professionals, even get in trouble sometimes. But we trust Nate to make a plan to bail us out." 

You frown as you see all of the orange soda in the fridge. Choosing to just grab bottled water, you close it and turn to a very worried looking Sophie. 

"I'm going with Eliot. It'll be fine. I’ll be fine." 

"By any chance, did you have a say in who you were joining?" 

She peers innocently at you. 

"No. Nate just said and I went along with it." 

You take a swig and watch as she looks away. 

"Ah, I see.” 

“Why?" 

"It's nothing." 

She gives you one last undecipherable look before heading to the couch and sitting next to Parker. You frown. Even being with the team almost a year, you didn't know everyone that well yet. When you had applied for a “secretary title with a concoction of ever changing duties” position working alongside Nate, this was the last thing you expected. You’re glad you took a risk and gave them the benefit of the doubt. It took a while to gain their trust, but they eventually liked you and included you more and more in what they actually did. It was probably because they liked the extra manpower and variety than their already established and constant team members. You sit on the couch and wait for Nate to come reveal the big plan. 

"So, you're tagging along with Eliot?" Hardison asks while typing away at his laptop. 

"Uh, yeah." 

He clicks his tongue while shaking his head. 

"You're going to regret it. Eliot isn't the best or easiest to work with." 

“Then who is?" 

He looks over at you with a “really?” look.

"Obviously me. I would love to teach someone my skills." 

You nod slowly and laugh. 

“What's so funny?" 

"Eliot also said that about you, remember?" 

"You mean the Denzel case?" 

"Yeah." 

"He doesn't know what he's talking about." 

You laugh and look over at the door opening. You see Eliot and he comes in, sitting next to you. 

"Hey." You smile. 

"Hey. Where's Nate?" 

"Probably getting drunk in his office. Want me to go get him?" 

"You shouldn't. He'll come out eventually. Probably thinking about his big plan." Sophie says. 

"Alright! Is the whole team here?" 

You all turn your heads towards Nate. 

Time Skip

"A basement is a pretty bad place to hide a bunch of cash. Just saying." You mumble as you follow Eliot through a hallway. 

“Yeah, well some people aren't as smart as others." 

You quickly turn your head around a corner to check for any guards. 

"You know, I thought you would be mad, or even annoyed, that Nate let me tag along." 

He turns his head around a corner. 

"Yeah, well I think it's a good way to learn something. I like to teach. Just don’t make Hardison my student.” he grumbles.

You run towards a door. He opens it and you squeeze in. 

"Alright. That's the control room. See a metal box?" Hardison says. 

You tune out Hardison's orders to Eliot while you look for any guards. 

“Hey, I'm going to go check the other door. That should be the door to the basement. If it's a basement." You whisper. 

Eliot nods, cutting a cord. 

"Yeah, go. Tell me if you see anything." 

"Y/N, be careful. Just because there haven't been any guards yet, doesn't mean you should get confident." Nate says. 

"I'll be fine. The door is right here." You whisper.

You open it and look in. 

"It's just a big room with nothing in it. Just some vaults. There could be something in here.“ 

You hear footsteps behind you and turn to greet Eliot before a fist comes at you and you feel pain before darkness greets you.

"Y/N, hey. Hey. It's okay. How you feeling?" 

You groan, adjusting your eyes to a bright light. Your head is pounding and your jaw is feeling sore.

"What? Where am I?" 

"She's alive!" Parker yells, making you grimace.

"You okay, Y/N?" Nate asks. 

Eliot clears his throat forcefully. 

"A guard found you. Knocked you out pretty good. The guard blew us. We're going to have to find another way out. You okay? Not feeling dizzy? You might have a concussion."

"Yeah, I'm fine. What about the basement?" 

"Forget about it. We just need to get out of here." 

“We could use the window in the basement. It's small, but I bet we could fit. It leads to the backyard. All we have to do is run across the yard in the blind spot of the cameras, climb the fence and we're out of here." 

"You remember all of that? Damn, Nate. She deserves a promotion." Hardison says. 

"Thanks." You say softly.

Eliot shakes his head, "Lets get out of here, then." 

The moon is bright after you had escaped the house and were waiting for the team to pick you up. You were leaning against a wall next to Eliot, letting the cool night breeze hit your face. You were listening to Hardison and Nate bicker about something. 

"Thanks for uh-saving me, I guess." You say suddenly, breaking the silence. 

Eliot looks over at you. He motions for you to take out the ear pieces and you do. He takes yours and his, and puts them in his pockets. 

"What was that for?" You ask. 

“We don't need to hear Hardison complaining. We get that enough already." He says. 

You both laugh. 

“But seriously. Thanks for helping me. But I just want you know for the future I would rather get caught than risk-" 

He shakes his head, frowning. 

"I don't like to think about that. Point is, it didn't happen." 

You nod, looking at the moon. 

"I think you did good. For your first time. I wouldn't mind having you tag along again." He says. 

You smile, looking into his beautiful blue eyes. "Thanks. I enjoyed myself. And I think I’ll have a bump on my head to remind me about this little adventure." 

“Well, at least you’ll still have a head, darlin’.” 

You both laugh softly. He moves to stand in front of you and lays a hand on the wall.

"Just be more careful next time, alright? I don't want anything bad happening to you." 

"What, I worry Big Bad Eliot?" You tease. 

“Yes, you do." He says. 

His low voice sends shivers down your spine. He slowly starts to lean in until his face is inches from yours. His eyes gaze at you softly. You move a hand up to his neck and gently move him closer. You both close your eyes as his lips place a small kiss on yours. Soft and slow. You shiver from an incoming gust of wind and pull him closer. You kiss him back harder as his other arm hugs your waist. He grips your waist harder and pushes you more against the wall. You moan, gently scratching at his neck. As he pulls away slowly, he bites your lower lip. He moves back and nuzzles his face in your neck. His lips press against your shoulder blade and his facial hair tickles your skin. 

“Happy Birthday, Y/N.” He whispers. 

You bite your lip and your arms surround his back. 

“Two gifts in one day. Wow.” 

You both laugh softly and he kisses your neck, holding you and comforting you with his warmth.

"So...." you whisper. 

He pulls back to look down at your face and smiles.

"So...the team is here." 

You quickly look over and see the van waiting at the end of the alley. Eliot grabs your hand and motions with his head. You smile and walk beside him as he leads you to the curb. He opens the van door and Hardison's shocked face greets you. 

"One time. One time. And Eliot's stupid charm overtakes you. Unbelievable." 

You laugh and hide your blush as you get in the van, sitting next to Eliot. 

"So, I take that it went well?" Nate asks, looking at you with a knowing look.

“Yeah. Perfect." Eliot says, looking over at you with a smile. 

You blush and lay your head on his shoulder. 

“Surprising but it worked out in the end.” You chuckle.

Nate laughs, shaking his head as Hardison mumbles rapidly, driving all of you away.

[theres-an-impulstor-among-us]

You didn’t have to give me that much of a compliment, gosh. Thank you though! Being able to share my ideas is one of my favorite things, and I’m glad you enjoy writing them!

This time I’ve got a normal Hermitcraft suggestion for you. It’s sewer cats (and bird) time!

The sewer society of hermits (Grain, Imp, Mr. Goodtimes, Bdoobs, and RenCat lol) is about to have another meeting to judge points and maybe do a big group prank. They’re happily chatting when they hear sniffling in the corner behind Scar’s spoiler wall. They check behind it to find a cam account that went missing at the beginning of the season (in this AU of mine), BadTimesWithScar. The group takes to comforting him, and also recruiting him into the sewer cats. Impulse gives him the nickname “Scap” based on Tango’s typo during the boomers job, and Bdubs decides to call him pancakes. (I’m a huge softie for BadTimes tbh, he’s just so angst-able and I will protect him with my life)

Hot take: the “Bad” in BadTimesWithScar’s name doesn’t mean evil, it means just generally bad at life. Poor Mr BadTimes :( Thanks for another great ask! Feel free to send more than one at a time if you have more than one idea! The more the merrier lol

…

  “So we’re all in agreement with the points?” Grian asks, standing at the points board. 

  Everyone nods, but Bdubs mutters, “Still can’t believe I only got one point.”

  “Bdubs, my dude, you’re lucky got ANY,” Ren snickers. “You literally moved six blocks.”

  “She’s not gonna notice, though!” protests Bdubs. “You coulda given me a COUPLE more.”

  “Bro, if you keep complaining, we’re gonna knock it down to three,” Grian says amusedly. “Anyway, now that the points are sorted, let’s discuss what our next big thing is. I think it’d be great if we could-.”

  “Wait, wait, shh!” hisses Ren suddenly.

  Everyone falls silent, their eyes fixed on Ren, who is looking sharply around the room, ears pricked. 

  “What is it?” Grian whispers. 

  Ren gestures for them to stay there while he creeps towards the giant wall of dirt that Scar has erected as a spoiler wall. He creeps closer, in the direction of the noise he heard earlier, and carefully peeks around the dirt wall.

  He freezes as he spots what made the noise.

  “S-Scar?” he calls shakily. “You’d better get over here. Quick.”

  Frowning, Scar hops down from the table and rushes over to join Ren, closely followed by Bdubs, Grian, and Impulse. 

  They find a dishevelled figure wearing clothes very similar to one of their members huddled between the spoiler wall and the thing behind it. Tear tracks streak down his pale face, but there’s no mistaking the scar on his face.

 “Oh my god,” breathes Scar. “B-BadTimes? How…? How did you get down here?”

  BadTimes buries his face in his hands and lets out another whimper, the noise Ren heard earlier.

  “Who is BadTimes?” asks Bdubs.

  “My cam account.” Scar looks away guiltily. “I haven’t seen him since the very start of the season.”

  “Hey, buddy,” says Impulse softly, kneeling down to BadTimes’s level. He reaches out his hand, as if trying to tame a scared cat. “Hey. Are you okay? Can you talk to me?”

  After a moment, BadTimes lowers his hands slightly and stares at Impulse with frightened eyes. “Y-Yes.” His eyes flicker up to Scar. “P-Please don’t lock me up again.”

  Grian immediately glares at Scar. “What did you do to him?”

  “Nothing!” Scar says defensively. “Well, I-I may have… shut him away in a closet and forgotten about him for a few… ah… months.”

  “What?!” Grian yelps. “Dude, locking your sentient creations in closets is a REALLY bad idea. Trust me; I found that out the hard way.”

  “Okay, okay, I won’t put him back in there! But he’s gotta go SOMEWHERE.”

  “Let’s adopt him!” says Bdubs, wrapping his arms around BadTimes. “He can be a Sewer Cat like us! We could even build him a little house down here or he can build it himself, whatever he wants to do.”

  “I-I… um…” BadTimes hesitates. “Scar says I’m not very good at building.”

  Scar hurriedly holds up his hands as he realises his friends are very close to kicking his butt. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! You’re not bad at building, BadTimes; you just need more practise, that’s all.” 

  “Did you never teach him?” demands Grian. “He’s not gonna magically get better on his own, you know.”

  Scar sighs quietly. “I know… I’ve made a lot of mistakes with him.”

  Grian’s glare melts into a sympathetic look. “I get that.” 

  “Hey, if we’re adopting you, maybe you wanna choose a new name?” Bdubs suggests. “Unless you’re happy with BadTimesWithScar.”

  BadTimes shakes his head immediately. “I-I want to change it.” 

  “Do you wanna come up with a new name?” asks Impulse kindly. “Or would you like me to?”

  After a moment, BadTimes says, “P-Please can you?”

  “Of course.” Impulse thinks for a few seconds. “I wanna call you Scap.”

  “What?” Bdubs frowns, confused, until realisation finally dawns on him. “Wait, are you referring to that time the Boomers blasted Scar’s name into stone but Tango made a mistake with the ‘r’?”

  Impulse grins and nods. “Yeah! What do you think, buddy?”

  BadTimes takes a moment to think about this. Then he gives a small smile. “I like Scap. It’s a lot better than my old name.”

  “Thanks,” Scar sighs. “I was the one who named you BadTimes.”

  “Bro, who exactly would want to be named that?” Grian scoffs. “It’s a good name for a simple cam account but not for a sentient being.”

  “I guess.” 

  “I’m gonna call you Pancakes,” Bdubs declares out of the blue. “Is that okay?”

  “Um…” Scap gives a quiet laugh. “Y-Yeah, definitely. Why?”

  “Dunno, just suits you. Plus it seems like the kind of nickname Keralis would give you. Ah, I can’t wait for you to meet the other Hermits!”

  Noticing the slightly panicked look on Scap’s face, Grian laughs and nudges Bdubs aside. “Let’s start with getting him settled down here before we go crazy, okay? Scap, what kind of place would you like to live in? Let us know and we’ll help you build it.”

  Scap stares at him in surprise. “You will?”

  “‘Course. We want you to get better at building but we’re not just gonna shove you out the nest and make you do it on your own. Just let us know what you want and we’ll help you.”

  Scap hesitates, unsure exactly how to react. He’s never been shown such kindness before by anyone, not even by his own creator. “I… I’ve always liked the idea of living in an underground mushroom house.”

  “Ooh, I can help you there,” says Impulse excitedly. “I’ve been studying Stress’s mushroom houses and I think I can replicate the style. You wanna go get some blocks to start building? See if you can get more than Bdubs.”

  “What?” Bdubs scowls. “Do you really have to make everything into a competition?”

  Impulse smirks back. “Oh, yeah, you’re right. Sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed you’d have a chance at winning.”

  As he hoped, a spark ignites in Bdubs’s eyes. “Oh, just you wait! I’m gonna get ALL the blocks!”

  With that, he dashes off towards the exit, closely followed by Ren. 

  Grinning, Impulse takes off after him, beckoning to Scap. “C’mon, Mr Pancakes!”

  Scap lets out a giggle and runs to catch up with his new friends. “Wait for me!”

  As the four disappear through the tunnel, Grian glances sideways at Scar, who is gazing after them with a mixed expression. “You alright, Scar?”

  “How did you handle this with your creations?” Scar asks quietly. “When they turned out to be… not what you expected or wanted them to be.”

  Grian pauses for a moment. “You’d think making creations is a lot like building a house: it turns out exactly the way you envision it and you have full control over every aspect. But it’s not. It’s way more like having an actual child. You can teach them, help them grow and develop, be there for them when they need you, but ultimately, you can’t control who they are. All you can do is support them and make sure they become the best version of themselves that they can possibly be. Even if that’s far removed from what you originally wanted. Cuz it’s not up to us, is it? It’s not our lives, it’s theirs.” 

  Grian places his hand on Scar’s shoulder. “Scap needs you, dude. Please don’t give up on him the way I gave up on my ch- my creations.” 

  After a long pause, Scar nods. “You’re right, Grian. You’re always right. I gotta be there for him.”

  “Yeah.” Grian smiles and pats his friend on the shoulder. “And I’ll help you out too. We Sewer Cats look after each other, don’t we?”

  Scar laughs. “I keep forgetting I came up with that name. But yeah, we do. And I guess that includes BadTimes now.”

  “Scap,” corrects Grian. 

  “Oh! Yes, yeah.” Scar shakes his head. “Oh man, it’s gonna take a while to get used to this.” 

  As Grian opens his mouth to reply, they hear Bdubs’s voice angrily screaming through the tunnel.

  “Better go rescue Bdubs,” laughs Grian. “Come on, Scar.”

  “Right behind you.”

[veniteme]

Hunting for Gems

season preview

ash island x reader

prev | next

When Ash Island is forced to participate as a producer for the latest season of Show Me the Money, he knows it won't be easy. But when his partner is you, a rising producer from H1GHR, maybe it won't be as bad as he thought.

2k words

As you stand before the door to the waiting room, heart thudding loudly in your chest, you think back to when the KIFF boys were in your studio eating cake a week ago.

“What am I supposed to do?” you slap Rohan’s arm vigorously as you panic. “How am I supposed to act around him?” The rest of the boys had already left, allowing you to freak out in relative privacy.

You’ve been an avid fan of Ash Island since his days on High School Rapper 2. Once he started releasing music, your infatuation with him only increased. When Jay informed you that you’d be working with him for the entire season of Show Me the Money, your brain immediately worked itself into a frenzy. On one hand, you were excited to meet someone whose music you loved. On the other, how were you expected to function properly next to him with the entire world watching through a camera?

“Okay, first thing you need to do,” Rohan starts, “is stop hitting me! You may be weak, but if you hit me enough it starts to sting okay? And second, just be normal? Act how you usually do.” He makes it sound so easy, as if you won’t die on the spot the moment the two of you make eye contact.

“That is under the assumption that I am able to think with him sitting next to me. And alright, let’s say I am actually capable of saying more than two words in his presence, what if he doesn’t like me? What if he thinks I’m weird or annoying?” You’ll be crushed if this person that you’ve admired for so long decides he doesnt like you.

“Then he’d be a good judge of character?” You hit Rohan even harder. “Ow! Relax, I was just kidding. Look, I’ve known the guy for a couple years now, and he has no right to call someone else weird. Plus, he’s one of the chillest guys I know. You’ll be fine. From what I’ve seen recently, the only time you need to be worried is when the cameras are on.”

“What do you mean?”

-----

While you stood outside the door, Ash is inside, staring nervously at the production crew setting up the cameras. Unlike you, he is not nervous about the two of you meeting. He’s worked with countless artists, featured on so many songs, he is used to interacting with people he didn’t know. What actually scares him is having to be a functioning human being in front of all these cameras.

He’s never done a such a big production like this, never seen so many cameras all pointed at him, capturing his every move. Thinking about all the eyes that will be watching him through that lens gives him anxiety. Normally, he’d be drinking right now to take off a bit of the edge. However, he doesn't think that would help with this cold bad boy image he is already starting to have. On top of being a jerk, the public will then think he was an alcoholic.

Just when he thinks he'll burst from nerves, you decide to walk through the door, a welcome distraction from all the thoughts running through his head.

-----

The first thing you see as you walk in is the production crew. All you are filming today are some short interviews to introduce the producer teams. They’ll be airing it as a teaser for the new season. You bow your head in greeting to the staff as you head to your seat. And that’s when you see him.

The two of you make eye contact, both looking up at the same time. And then you freeze; your brain short-circuits and for a second, all you can do is stare. Ash Island, the guy whose songs take up a good chunk of your playlist, is sitting there, right in front of you.

You break out of your stupor when you hear his voice. “Hey, what’s up?” he says casually. And you realize you’re being incredibly rude to someone who is older and a senior in the industry.

“Hello! I’m Saf. I’m a producer for H1GHR Music,” you introduce yourself officially.  

He chuckles a bit. “Yeah, I know. We’ve seen each other at the H1GHR-Ambition parties.”

“Right,” you say nervously. And you guys had met before, but you didn’t think he’d remember. He was always across the room or on the opposite end of the table, so you two never really interacted. In fact, this is the first time you’ve heard his voice, and not through a song on your phone.  

“So did you want to sit down?” he asks. You’ve just been standing in front of him for a while.  

“Oh!” you immediately take a seat. Now what are you supposed to say? Thankfully, he decides to fill the silence.

“You're friends with Rohan right?” he asks. Not really who you’re thinking about at the moment, but you'll take it.

“Yeah, I am. We're in the same crew,” you explain. “Why, did he say something about me?” you ask, feigning nonchalance. If Rohan said anything remotely embarrassing about you to Ash Island, you were ready to kill him.  

“Oh no, I just remembered him drunk-dialing me last night to wish me luck on the show.” You laughed, making a comment about how dumb Rohan was sometimes. And that’s how the rest of your conversation went until you started shooting, sharing dumb stories about your mutual friend.

-----

SHOW ME THE MONEY SEASON X

Team ASH ISLAND x SAF Q&A

The two are seated side-by-side in front of the camera. Ash Island is looking quite stiff and uncomfortable, while Saf has an easy smile on her face.

Please introduce yourselves.

After a glance at Ash Island, Saf begins her introduction with a bow.

Saf: Hello, everyone. My name is Saf, I’m a producer for H1GHR Music.

Following her lead, it seems Ash Island takes his first breath since the camera started rolling.

Ash Island: Hi, guys. I’m Ash Island from Ambition Musik.

Did you two know each other before the show?

Saf: Well, of course I don’t think there’s anyone interested in Korean hip hop right now that doesn’t know Ash Island. But we’ve also seen each other in passing at events and parties and such. This is my first time really talking to him though.

As she talks, Ash Island appears to loosen up just the slightest. He directs his gaze to Saf when he speaks.

Ash Island: [to Saf] You… can just call me Ash.

Saf looks at him in surprise, her cheeks just the slightest shade darker, undetectable to most.

-----

“WHY DID THEY EDIT IT LIKE THAT?” Rohan’s obnoxious laughter in the background is only furthering your agitation.

“Come on,” Rohan lets out between spurts of laughter. “That had nothing to do with the editing. Don’t tell me that wasn’t exactly how it felt when he looked at you.”

Unable to refute his claim, all you say is “Whatever.”

“Did they have to put in the romantic background music and CGI cherry blossoms though?” you complain.

Ignoring your best friend’s following fit of laughter, you begrudgingly hit play once again.

-----

“Duuuuude I didn’t realize you were so smooth!”

“Our Bition Baby is all grown up!”

“You can just call me Ash,” Changmo repeats in a sickeningly sweet voice.

“What are you guys talking about?” Ash asks, only slightly annoyed that his labelmates had interrupted his studio time. He wasn’t making much progress today anyway.

“Did you not watch the Show Me previews last night?” Hash Swan asks.

“No, I thought I’d avoid the embarrassment of seeing myself on national TV,” Ash replies. He was there when it happened, he didn’t need reminders of how awkward he was on camera.

“Alright, you have to watch this,” Leellamarz says, pulling up the reposted video on Youtube.

-----

You guys are the youngest producer team in the history of the show. Do you feel pressured by this fact?

Saf: [to Ash] Do you want me to answer this one?

He looks at her and nods wordlessly. She smiles at him in return before addressing the camera.

Saf: Of course, working next to such big names and artists can be quite intimidating. But I think as long as we put out work that we can be proud of, I will be satisfied.

Saf: But I would appreciate it if the viewers would look kindly upon us as it is our first time on this show. I’m kind of a wimp; I think I’d be pretty hurt if I saw we were receiving hate comments.

Saf’s smile indicates she’s only joking, and the production team can be heard laughing behind camera.

Ash: I doubt anyone in their right mind would send you hate.

Saf: Why not?

Ash: All you do is sit and smile and release music. What could anyone possibly say about you?

Saf: …I’ll take that as a compliment.

Ash: It was one.

-----

“I hope you know that if you break her heart,” Changmo starts, “I’m petitioning to kick you out of the company. I am NOT risking losing an invite to AOMG-H1GHR parties because of you.”

Ash rolls his eyes. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, dude. Glad to know you have so much faith in me. But also, chill out. I haven’t even done anything yet.”

“Yet? So you are planning on making a move?” Hash Swan questions. Ash sighs. Why are these guys reading so much into everything he says?

“No, I am not making a move, I barely know her,” Ash refutes. “She’s just a producer that I will be working with for the next couple months.” That day was the first time he’d ever talked to you. There is no reason to get excited about anything just yet, even if he does think you have a nice smile.

“Come on, Ash. She’s not just a producer,” Leellamarz points out. Ash is a bit wary of where he’s going with this-

“She’s a very cute producer.” -and rightfully so. Ash really can’t catch a break with these guys. They all burst out laughing, and Changmo gives Leella a high-five.

“Whatever,” Ash mutters. “Why the sudden interest in my love life anyway?”

“Wow, you’re not even gonna try and deny that you think she’s cute?” Hash asks. This guy is way too observant.

“I have eyes. How am I supposed to not think she’s cute?” Ash says bluntly.

“You know, contrary to what you may believe, not everybody has to find her cute,” Changmo says, mostly just to tease him. “Maybe she’s just not my type,” he shrugs.

“Yeah, that’s because she’s actually nice,” Ash retorts. “And we all know that isn’t your type.”

“That’s never been your type either, Ash, so why the sudden change of heart?” Leella asks.

“Maybe I’m looking for a change of pace,” Ash says with a noncommittal shrug. This is all hypothetical anyway. It’s not like he’s planning on asking you out or anything. He just thinks you’re cute, there is no reason for the guys to make such a big deal out of it.

“Yeah, well be careful. You’re going to make some very scary people mad if you mess around with her,” Changmo warns.

“Please, the H1GHR guys are like literally the nicest guys on the planet. I think I’m safe,” Ash says.

“That’s not who I’d be worried about if I were you.”

-----

a/n: let me know what you think!! was the official show part too short? are there parts that sound weird/awkward? first time writing full fics so i'm always open to feedback!