#no joke i was about to go '....they introduced sats for year fucking six???'

[thetimelordbatgirl]

I’m sorry, but can the government please explain where the fuck it was needed to make SAT papers more stressful then they already are for Year Six students via adding GCSE LEVEL questions of all things??? Because if anyone thinks its okay that the papers with the GCSE questions actually reduced ten-eleven year olds to tears cause of how hard they were, holy shit-

[noneedtoamputate]

Band of Brothers Olympics AU - Chapter One

I don't have a great title for this yet. I was thinking about The Vault in Our Stars, a pun on another Shakespeare quote to go along with Band of Brothers. If you have any ideas, please let me know.

This came out of my Olympic obesession, and I've tried to include a lot of details that came out of the Paris games in the fic.

I can't thank @mercurygray enough for helping me flesh out this story and providing some much-needed details. She deserves co-author credit on this chapter, but any mistakes or sections that don't work are on me. And thanks to @shoshiwrites for beta-reading and telling me it was a fun read. That's exactly what I am going for with this fic.

Hope you all enjoy!

Tuesday, July 23, 2024

Five days before Opening Ceremony

Four of the five members of the United States men’s gymnastics team lounged in the larger of the two bedrooms in their Olympic Village suite after their designated practice time. Harry Welsh texted his girlfriend, Kitty Grogan, a member of the U.S. women’s gymnastics team and America’s current sweetheart. High bar specialist George Luz balanced a plate of French baked goods on his lap. Team himbo Floyd Talbert read the newest issue of Field and Stream. Carwood Lipton, the youngest member of the squad, sat on the floor doing a v-stretch. 

“My mattress here is worse than the one in my dorm room,” Carwood lamented, grabbing his foot and reaching his head to his knee.

“Yes, but it’s environmentally friendly,” Harry pointed out without looking up from typing. “You can save the world or save your back, but not both.”

“Fuck, this pain au chocolat is good,” George said, his mouth full and his pronunciation terrible.

“You don’t say the last letter of the word,” Tab explained, hardly looking up from his magazine. 

“Whatever.” George considered the pastry again. “I think I’m going to record a review and put it on TikTok.”

“You know French?” Carwood asked Tab. It wasn’t impossible, but Carwood didn’t take Tab as the … cultured type. He knew Dick and Harry pretty well - he was a few years behing them at Penn State, after all - but he was still getting to know George and Tab. Both men liked to joke, although their senses of humor worked in different ways - in strong contrast to Dick, who didn’t really go for jokes when it came to his team and his sport. 

“Kinda. I’ve been doing twenty minutes of Duolingo a day for the past two months. I’m up to Level Six,” Tab explained proudly.

Harry laughed and shook his head. “And here I was thinking the only French Tab knew was mènage à trois.”

“I resent that you think that low of me, Harry - and that’s an important phrase,” Talbert defended, finally looking up from his reading. “Speaking of, any chance Kitty introduces us to her teammates?”

Harry put his phone down. “Kitty’s already told them all about you. And if that didn’t scare them off, she threatened  that if they so much as shook your hand, she’d send their names to the doping agency and they’d have to take extra urine tests.” 

“Shit, I wouldn’t cross Kitty. She scares the hell out of me.” George admitted, brushing crumbs off his chin. 

“If only the American public knew about the real Kitty Grogan,” Carwood agreed. Harry’s girlfriend had worked hard for the America’s Sweetheart nickname, but George was right. Her tiny frame and blond curls hid a ruthless sense of humor, a deceptively strong arm, and a very, very strong protective urge for the other women on her team. (Necessary equipment, she would have said.)

“Well, there’s lots of other women in the Olympic Village,” Tab said, unbothered and unashamed. “And I’ll need some more condoms, too, since someone -” he glared at George - “wouldn’t share.”

“Christ, will you let it go? Harry asked for mine first. And everyone got five to start with. If you need more than that, walk your lazy ass downstairs to the clinic. They have more there for the taking.”

The suite door opened, and team captain Dick Winters walked into the room.

“Hey, have you had any of these, Dick?” George asked, gesturing to the remnant of croissant on the table. “They’re really good.”

Dick looked at the pastry like George had just suggested he eat something toxic, and gave a brief shake of his head.“I just got through talking with Coach Taylor, and he was really happy with the way practice went this morning.”

“Well, that’s why I came to France. To make Coach Taylor happy.” Harry rolled his eyes. He wasn’t on the best of terms with the national team coach, and he wasn’t afraid of letting everyone know it. 

“Hey, Tab, you should ask Dick!” George suggested. 

“Ask me what?” Dick looked over Tab’s way.

“Can I have the condoms that came in your welcome pack? George already gave his to Harry.” Tab still sounded put out.

Dick looked even more offended about this than he had about the chocolate croissant. “No!” 

“Why? Did you use them already?” Tab sat up and looked at Dick, interested in his answer.

“No!” Dick shouted again, even louder this time. “And nobody is no going to need the condoms, because nobody on this team is going to have sex until we’re done with the competition.”

“What?” Tab asked incredulously. “There are 5,000 women here. And 5,000 men, if that’s your thing. Ten thousand people, all of us at the peak of our physical well being. And you want us to refrain from doing anything that requires a condom for a week?”

Dick sighed, more than a little agitated he had to explain this to his teammates. “We have a chance to do something really special here. I know it's a long shot, but we could medal. It would be huge for men’s gymnastics back home. We owe it to ourselves and our sport to do our best, and that means focusing. Abstaining for a week isn’t going to kill anybody.”

Harry shook his head. “Look Dick, I understand what you’re saying, but you know how superstitious I am, and I always sleep with Kitty before a big meet. She does this thing where … ”

“STOP!” interrupted Dick, eyes closed in pain. ��Nobody is interested in what you were about to say.”

“I am,” Tab answered honestly, and George laughed.

“Look, I didn’t come up here to talk about condoms,” Dick said, desperately wanting to change the subject. “I’ve been thinking we should skip the opening ceremonies.”

The rest of the team stared at him.

Dick sighed before starting again. “I know we’ve all been looking forward to it, but it’s only two days before our qualification round, and we’ll be on our feet and it will throw off our sleep schedule.”

“C’mon, Dick. It’s one night,” George said.

“I know it’s not a big deal for you, being in just one event,” Dick said, sounding judgmental. 

George sat up straighter. “Yeah, I only won the silver medal at last year’s world championships for the high bar. I have no idea how I even got picked for the Olympic team, because that’s not a big deal.”

The three other teammates turned their heads back and forth, following the heated exchange.

Dick grimaced. “That didn’t come out the right way, George. I’m sorry. But you have to see my point. You get it, don’t you, Carwood?”

Everyone looked at Carwood. 

Carwood looked up to Dick, both as a gymnast and a person, so he was slow to voice his dissent. Truthfully, he’d been looking forward to the ceremony quite a bit, and the idea of not going for something like a sleep schedule sounded … well, lame.  “I want to do well, too, Dick, but there are so many things about the games that we don’t want to miss out on. The opening ceremonies, meeting new people …”

“Mènage à trois,” Harry added with a huge grin, and Tab threw the magazine his way. 

“You know what, forget it,” Dick said, clearly agitated. “Let’s just treat this like one big frat party and forget about representing our country and bringing home a medal.” He walked out of the room.

“Aw, Dick, come on!” he heard Harry call out to him, but he didn’t respond. He’d shared his feelings with his team, and they’d shared theirs. 

How was a captain supposed to lead when his team didn’t want to be led?

-

Dick decided to take his frustration out in the weight room, and then he got a massage. Back in the locker room, he checked his phone and saw Harry had messaged him.

Harry: Hey, you okay? We’re going to grab dinner, but I understand if you need to cool off.

Harry: I don’t think that conversation went the way anyone wanted it to.

Harry: They’re all good guys and they care a lot, but we all need a little fun, too.

Harry: You don’t have to be perfect, Dick. You’re already a good leader.

Harry: You know I love you, man. Kitty says she loves you, too (but not like she loves me).

Dick smiled briefly at the words on the screen. Harry was more than just a long time teammate. He’d been his freshman year roommate, one of the first friends he’d made at Penn State, and the guy on the team who understood him the best. They had shared wins and losses and ups and downs. Dick was even there the first time Harry laid eyes on Kitty, and she quickly became one of Dick’s people, too.

Thanks. Dick texted back. Grabbing dinner with Lew. Appreciate the invite, though. I’ll catch you before lights out.

He would need to apologize to them all later - he could see that now. Sometimes he forgot that other people saw the world a little differently than he did. But that was part of being a leader, too. 

It’s good to have people who care about you, he thought.

-

An hour later, Dick took the Metro and walked a few blocks to meet team sponsor Lew Nixon at a bistro. A second-generation tech titan, Lew and his sister, Blanche, needed a way for their father’s software company to save face after Stan’s headline-making fourth divorce. Blanche suggested adopting two Olympic teams that needed financial support and didn’t mind the backing of NixWorks, despite the reputation of its founder. 

So Lew met with men’s gymnastics, promising free housing for its national team members, as well as covering travel expenses and extensive social media coverage. Blanche did the same with the women’s rugby team, and both teams were happy to accept. 

Nix hated athletics - his idea of weight training was 12 ounce curls - and Dick had nothing in common with the San Francisco tech bro. But in spite of their differences - or maybe because of them - the two had become close friends during the past year. Dick appreciated having someone he could talk to outside of the gymnastics bubble he placed himself in leading up to the games. 

Dick spotted Lew sitting at a table for two on the outdoor patio, looking at his phone, a glass of red wine already in front him. 

“Dick!” Lew said, greeting him a little too loudly. Dick thought the glass of wine may not have been Lew’s first of the evening. 

“Have you seen the new dating app we created for the Olympians?” Lew turned his phone around so Dick could see it.

“Yeah. Light My Fire. Great name,” Dick said.

“I know, right?” Lew missed the sarcasm from Dick. “You know, because the torch and everything.”

“I get it,” said Dick.

“And my dad is a huge Jim Morrison fan. Once I told him the idea and the name, he had the programmers start working on it right away.” The waiter came over to go over the specials and take Dick’s drink order. Lew translated and answered back in perfect French.

“Dick, it wouldn’t kill you to try some new things while you’re here,” Lew said, considering his friend over the candle in the middle of the table.

“I don’t like sparkling water. I just want tap. And what’s wrong with ranch dressing?”

Lew tried to hold in his smile.“They call it still water here, Dick. And nothing is wrong with ranch dressing ... if you’re in State College, Pennsylvania. But you happen to be in the culinary capital of the world, and I’m going to let you in on a little secret,” Lew said conspiratorially, leaning a bit closer to Dick across the table. “Champagne vinaigrette won’t get you drunk.”

Dick rolled his eyes. 

Over the meal - Lew had steak frites, rare, and another glass of what Dick learned was Bordeaux, while Dick stuck to water, still, and a grilled chicken salad - Dick shared what had conspired earlier in the day. Dick would have never guessed it when they first met, but Lew was a good listener, always taking in facts and asking pertinent questions. 

Lew took a long sip of wine before sharing his conclusion.

“Listen, I know you don’t have beaches in Pennsylvania, but I’m sure you’ve held sand too tightly before,” Lew said. “I don’t think I need to tell you it usually doesn’t work.”

Dick couldn’t help but laugh. Lew was right.

“I’ve seen all five of you work hard, make sacrifices. You’re all ready for this. Give them a little space, a little freedom. This thing only happens every four years - enjoy it a little!” 

Dick nodded.

When he got back to the room, the team was half-watching an action movie dubbed in English on the television while Kitty was recording George eating another one of those chocolate pastries. Several sets of eyes swung to him and the door as he came in, just as quickly going back to the movie.

He looked down at his feet for a moment. “I owe you all an apology. I came on a little strong earlier, and I’m sorry. I’ve … got a lot on my mind at the moment.” The group continued to watch the movie, but George’s frown had softened a little.

“Here’s the deal,” Dick said in such a way that everyone turned around and stared at him intently. “We’re going to work like hell for the next two days. Then we’ll go to the opening ceremonies. And then we’ll kick some ass.”

His teammates look stunned. They never heard him swear once before, let alone twice in one speech. 

“Fuck yeah,” George answered back, smiling.

“Fuck yeah,” Harry and Tab said at the same time.

Carwood took his time. He didn’t swear much, either. “Fuck yeah,” he finally said, and Harry patted him on the back.

As Kitty recorded the moment on George’s phone for posterity, she knew this group was something special. 

[stackthedeck]

Can you imagine if someone, After they unmask Spider-Man, do the math about the age he started fighting crime.

I Can imagine some of his enemies being like "oh god, I almost killed a kid"

Or some of his friend being horrified by how young he was. Especially when they discover it was at this age he gain a guilt complex

respectfully, what spider-man villain has a problem with fighting children lmao like I see this joke a lot about Peter's villains freaking out about fighting a teenager, but I think the substantially funnier joke is that no one gives a shit about Peter being a kid. Real fuck them kids energy you know?

Do we, collectively as Spider-Man fans, actually think any of Peter's villains give a shit. Like the only one I could imagine having hesitations is maybe the Punisher but he shows up when Peter is an adult. Like villains introduced before Amazing Spider-Man #30? Norman doesn't have a problem with hitting kids canonically, Doc Ock is like that, etc. Maybe the Lizard, Connors is cool but idk early Lizard appearances show him as having pretty limited control when he's the Lizard. Idk I'll think on which Spider-Man villains draw the line at killing a teenager

also i promise i'm not trying to be mean... but like I think his friends would not give a single shit about him being spider-man at 16. like say Harry by nothing short of a fanfic miracle, survives and works through everything after his dad's death and forgives Peter. what's he going to do feel bad that his dad was hitting him too? I mean probably, but like they've got a lot of shit to unpack together. Flash enlisted in the army at 18 and really admired Spider-Man before and after he knew he was Peter, I think he sees it as nothing but heroic. MJ canonically always knew because of a retcon that I think is bullshit, but nonetheless. Gwen never knew Peter was Spider-Man which I do think is one of the greatest missed opportunities of comic books, maybe she'd have a bigger reaction to him starting young, but like she'd have a bigger crisis to deal with if she found out. Shit, what other friends does Peter have? Johnny Storm? The dude that started at 15, yeah he'd make fun of Peter for getting into the game late. My niece was fighting Doctor Doom when she was six, web-head, sorry the shocker brained you before your SATs lmao

I think why I'm struggling with his friends having any reaction to like Peter's age is that when they do find out they're not that far removed from 16, they remember being that young and feeling like they were basically adults. I mean you're not basically an adult at 16, you just feel like it, but really the idea is only horrifying to us as the reader because we're not the intended audience of the high school years anymore. kinda like reading hunger games hits different when you're frontal cortex finishes cooking

I think the only kind of person that would have to have a reaction to Peter starting being a hero so young would have to be like someone with good parents and a stable home life and in comic books that's just the latest generation of heroes and like they did a whole arc about it

[brvdges]

Nirvana - Peter Parker Pt. I

Thought I'd drop in with a treat even if it's something a bit different than usual. 

Here’s something I wrote a long while ago featuring two of my original characters. Roman Abbiati-Stark and Amani (‘Mani) are my babies, and I’ve held them close to my chest for the past six years. Hoping I’ll bring you a full-length story featuring them soon. Until then, here’s a short that introduces the love triangle between them and Peter. For ambiance, I listened to Nirvana by Sam Smith when I originally wrote this.

Summary: Roman makes her move on Peter *finally* Stark!Daughter x Peter Parker; written prior to Infinity War & Endgame being posted for the first time

Word Count: 1927

Warnings: Alcohol mentions?

She was leaning back against the wall, her tan arms folded across her chest as she watched him. Her lustful hazel eyes watched Peter through long black lashes, a passionate fire dancing in them. Everything in her ached to be with him- to kiss him, touch him, make the boy feel alive for once. As much as she loved 'Mani, there was no way in hell she and Peter would last another month.

The two were too awkward for their own good, both stuttering over their words, to afraid to make a move. 'Mani may have won him over momentarily, but she knew Ro always got what she wanted when she wanted it; and what the beautiful hazel-eyed girl wanted right now was Peter.

Even though the topic had been avoided at all costs, both girls knew how the other felt about Peter. They swore never to let a boy get in between them because it was catty, yet here they were. Scratching out each other’s eyes any time he even looked in their direction and if Ro was being honest with herself- he wasn’t all that. No, he definitely wasn’t. He was the complete opposite of all that and yet he managed to catch her attention faster than a sale when she was on a bender.

She could never quite put her freshly manicured finger on what it was that made her so interested. Peter was geek central, the boy stuttered when she first spoke to him. His smile was easily the sexiest thing she’d ever seen, and she’d met Clooney at one of her dad’s parties before. He was all brains like her, was that it? The fact that he could keep up and even match, not only her attitude but her smarts as well? It made him anti-social and caused his cute self to stutter like shit. Hell, he still owned Legos, but damn. The boy was irresistibly charming. Is that what made him so enticing?

He was sitting on a crisp white couch, laughing at a joke, 'Mani made. His eyes lit up with joy as he clutched his sides and as he smiled, Ro could swear she saw a faint glow around his head. Peter Parker was fucking perfect, and she wanted him.

Her dark eyebrows furrowed as her pink lips turned downwards, watching as 'Mani put her hand on his. The smaller girl had her legs on his lap and was actively telling him a story, gesturing wildly every few seconds. When she spotted her looking, she squeezed his hand and even leaned in closer so her nose was grazing his cheek as they laughed.

The bass thumped from the stereo, so much she could feel the vibration as she looked away quickly, focusing her gaze on something else instead. The brown drink in her hand, she scrunched her nose before tossing her head back and taking a swig. The drink burned at her throat, going down more smoothly as more of the liquid coated it. She wiped at her lips with the back of her hand before pushing through hot, sweaty gyrating bodies to another nearby couch. Sadly, she now sat across from the lovebirds.

“Who wants to play seven minutes in heaven?!" the hostess squealed, an empty girly drink bottle in her hand. She plopped down next to Ro, who scooted over and placed it on the table. A few kids made their way over, some she recognized from her short-lived time at Midtown.

"Okay, so since I’m the hostess,” she touched her heart and paused for effect, “I get to pick who’ll go first.” She looked around the circle, her cold blue gaze analyzing every participant before they landed on Ro, “You.”

Before she could object, the bottle was spun, and as if the heavens had heard her pleas, it landed on him, Peter Parker. As soon as his eyes met hers, she knew that this was God telling her to make her move.

They were directed down the hall to an old closet, pretty dim and small, and shoved inside. Although it seemed barely big enough for the clothes that were in it, they fit just fine.

He was nervous, and she could tell. The boy was practically radiating it, he needed a bit more courage than the beers he had been drinking. So she reached into her purse and pulled out a flask before offering it to him. He took it and smiled softly before taking a swig, his eyes squeezed shut as he swallowed the mix.

She took that time to admire him. She swore if her adrenaline hadn’t kicked in, she’d be a sweaty mess just like him. His shirt clung to him due to the amount of heat in such a small place, and she was tempted to tell him to just take it off. She didn’t want him to get the wrong idea about her though - even though it’d be right. He handed her the flask from which she took her own hearty drink.

“Ro,” he began, shoving his hands into his jeans pockets, “Y-you look amazing tonight.” He bit his lip awkwardly as he took in the sight before him. Roman was dressed in a tight deep red dress that hugged her body perfectly, accentuating her hips and chest. It didn’t help that she at some point had applied a deep red lipstick - that matched her dress and nails; since he had last looked at her when she was standing up against the wall. Her dark brown tresses were curled at the ends and elegantly framed her face. Unlike the rest of her glamorous outfit, she wore red converses to match. Needlessly to say, she was gorgeous.

“I was going for the signature Stark look, classy but casual.” She chuckled, looking down at her shoes. The tops were covered in tiny miscellaneous sketches of coffee cups, homes, and heartbeats. “Putting on the converses was the only way, my dad would let me out,” she rolled her eyes, “even though I told him numerous times that it was a formal thing.” She pushed a loose curl behind her ear, “You know my dad.”

The memory of Tony threatening to show up in the suit if some guy even glanced her way played in her head. Peter chuckled as if reading her mind, “Yeah, I do.” He rocked back and forth on his feet, just being near her made him nervous.

“Ro,” “Pete,” they spoke in unison, and she let out a melodic laugh, batting her mascara’d lashes at him. Her bright smile made his stomach do flips as he took in the beauty that was Roman Stark. In his slightly drunken haze, she looked like a goddess, he could practically see her on a throne and even his tipsy mind knew there was no way she’d ever go for him. Yet his eyes stared anyway, taking in as much of her beauty as possible before it was taken. Her hazel eyes had specks of green in them, he’d noticed, and she smelled like roses and alcohol, “You first.” She chuckled.

“I’m sorry we haven’t been able to- able, able,…” She held back a laugh as he processed the word, “…able to hang out as much lately.” He apologized, shrugging his shoulders sheepishly. “It’s cool,” her voice was smooth like silk, “Can’t spend all your time with me, you’d get bored.” She feigned sadness, clutching her hand to her chest. He gasped, “By the Roman Stark? Never.”

It was quiet for a few moments before she spoke, “But since we’re here…” She bit her lip, now realizing how close they were. His body was up against hers pressing her up against the wall. Her heart fluttered as his hand brushed against her leg on its way to her hand. He was sure she could feel his body heat radiating off of him, “I wanted to address to elephant in the room.” Her red lips went up in a smirk and a smug look flashed upon her features, “Is that so?” he asked

“Yeah, the fact that you’re flirting with me.” she joked, and he gasped, “Me? No, not- not at all!” She lightly tapped his shoulder as she looked into his brown eyes. “How much have you had to drink tonight?” She asked, her eyes filling with worry. She had been drinking herself, but it was completely unlike Peter to drink.

“I should be asking you the same,” he paused. “You’re so pretty.” he mumbled, and Roman cocked an eyebrow, “You’re fucking shit-faced.” She giggled, stepping forward and tripping over her own two feet before grabbing his shoulder for balance. “It wasn’t a lot! Besides, that was hours ago. Also prior to popular belief, I'm not a lightweight!” He whined. She raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at her lips, “Oh, really, Parker? What would- What would Aunt May have to say about that?”

“She doesn’t know. Besides Amani-”

That was when they kissed, she didn’t want to hear a word about Amani. Their lips met, and Roman’s heart seemed to turn into fireworks. She was the damn fourth of July. It caught Peter off guard, but he quickly gained his composure, kissing back. It also seemed the drink had given him some courage as he ran his hand up and down the side of Roman’s leg.

It eventually led to him haphazardly placing a mixture of spontaneous but gentle kisses down her neck towards her collarbone. His head was telling him to go for it, and it seemed that Roman was giving the green light as she was encouraging him; her breathing hitching the further down he went.

Suddenly, he stopped and avoided her eyes. The previous events caused him to stutter, “Was- was that okay?”

“Hell yes, do that again.” She answered before forcefully pressing her lips to his in a heated kiss. Their close proximity had an effect on Roman as her stomach filled with butterflies and he kissed down her collarbone towards her chest. She pulled him closer before giving him a taste of his own medicine, kissing down the paler boy’s neck.

She kissed lightly, teasing him before she found his sweet spot. Slowly, she sucked at his skin, leaving dark red and purple marks in her wake. His eyes were closed and his mouth open in wonder. She smirked to herself - her wish had been granted.

Yet this was too good to be true, she had been given a gift. No, a blessing, and even her brain’s cloudy thoughts knew it. “Peter?” She mumbled, pressing her forehead against his, and wrapping her arms around his neck. “Mhm?” his eyes were still closed, and he was trying to take in the moment.

“Do you want this?” She whispered, staring at his features, trying to discern the look on his face. He opened his eyes and his brown ones met her hazels, “Yes.”

That was all she needed, and in a heartbeat, they were walking out of the closet towards an open bedroom. He walked inside and plopped down on the bed as she locked the door behind them, “You’re sure?” She asked.

In the moonlight, she was a goddess, and he was a mere mortal. The way the light hit her olive skin as she leaned against the door, her hazel eyes were striking as she awaited his response. He wasn’t sure if it was the drink talking or him, but he swore that she cast a spell on him when he nodded his head eagerly, “I want this, Ro.”

She sat down next to him, closer than Amani had been. Her lips grazed his and he sighed, “I want you, Ro.”

“That’s all I need.”

[llyncooljones]

turn it off - twelve days of rowaelin '22

ao3 || masterlist || twelve days of rowaelin ‘22 masterlist || the silence 'verse masterlist

prompt: christmas lights.

word count: 1193

trigger warnings: language, allusions to war, guns/bombs

tag list: @live-the-fangirl-life @rowaelinismyotp  @fireheartwhitethorn4ever @elentiyawhitethorn @rowanaelinn @autumnbabylon @leiawritesstories @backtobl4ck @letstakethedawn @rowaelinscourt

the bar, late at night

Given it was ten minutes to midnight, on Christmas fucking Eve, Aelin could hardly breathe there were so many people, just everywhere. All the bar stools were filled, except for the freshly upholstered, red leather, gold accented bar stool. The one which sat front and centre of the long, dark wood bar top. The one which Rowan had specially designed and refurbished, just for, just so she would have a seat at the bar—always.

She had cried so many tears, happy tears, when he’d brought her to the bar early one morning and had her unwrap it. Her name was stitched on the back, and a little set of ropes blocked the stool off.

During its first week of existence at the bar, a man had sat himself on it, but was promptly escorted out with a snapped forearm due to Rowan’s favoured methods of—ahem—excusing clients from his bar.

Instead of boisterous locals and regulars, the bar was packed with the entire neighbourhood. There were families with their young, and there were groups of college-aged kids sneaking vodka from a flask one of them had brought along, and there were couples waving at babies—mouthing at one another about how it would be them next year, their baby being waved at.

It was a lovely atmosphere, everyone knew each other, and each person who walked through the front door received a greeting of cheers, and claps, and overall joy for their presence. Even Aelin herself, who had only been coming to the bar for a little while. Who had only been living in the neighbourhood for a little while. It seemed crazy to her, how easily the locals accepted her.

Rowan had introduced her to the rest of his Cadre, welcomed with hugs and smiles, by all but Lorcan. But she hadn’t expected much from him, he was notoriously rude and cruel upon first meeting.

Then she had mentioned a big-titted, vertically challenged brunette with the name Elide Lochan around him, and suddenly he wanted to know everything about her… friendship with the girl, and who the girl was, and if she’d ever consider visiting.

She had always known men were easy—but not that easy. Surely not a man with the level of combat experience Lorcan had, the emotional brick of a man that Lorcan Salvaterre was. Even his friends who had known him years and years and years, had never seen him act in such a way.

But it was ruined by one thing—and one thing only.

And she almost claimed it to be Lorcan, when Rowan cupped the apple of her cheek whilst he leant over the bar top and stared into her eyes, asking what had put such a long expression on her face.

She laughed numbly—irritated at The Thing—and made a comment about how he’d better not launch into one of his favourite ‘walked into a bar’ jokes. Because she had them memorised. And jotted down in the notes section of her phone. Ranked in six different ways—prepared for the day she could show him. (Likely their wedding, but that was still a way off).

He pulled her closer now, and Aelin was lost in the depth in his eyes, and the darkness they hid most days. But vulnerability never failed to show when she stared into them. “Aelin, I know you far too well to believe in the fact that nothing is bothering you. And you know me well enough, to know that I won’t let this go—not until I know the real reason.”

“Insatiable, I know. I know, Whitethorn.” She murmured quietly, slowly, as she felt the blood begin to drip from her ears, the music playing in the background murdering her ears. Doing more damage than any close-range shot could have ever done in a war zone.

She’d have to see a doctor soon, to check that the song playing truly hadn’t done any damage.

A kiss to her lips, and then a whispered, “So, why the long face?” followed by another kiss—this one the slightest bit indecent, a bribe, if she had ever seen one.

“The song.” She knew it would upset him, knew it. Because he had some strange, brain malfunction that made it so he loved the band currently playing, and especially loved the song currently playing. The song which made her ears bleed, and her eyes water, and her mouth dry up she hated it so much.

Words could not describe how much she hated Coldplay, nor could words describe how she felt for their Christmas song, Christmas Lights. She hated it.

The barracks she had lived in one deployment—which had lasted over Christmas—had loved it. She was in the middle, had heard enough not to mind, but wasn’t ever going to request it. But on soldier, one man was obsessed. He loved the band, and he loved Christmas, so their Christmas song was his favourite to play.

And gods, did he play it often. He played it so often she could tell anyone during how many of the lyrics had bombs had gone off, how many of the words had finished with a gunshot being heard. She could tell all of these facts, and yet still it would not quite explain the hate she harboured for the song.

Something about it just grated on her; killed her in every sense but the literal one.

And she wasn’t sure how to explain it to her Coldplay-loving, Christmas-loving, Christmas Lights by Coldplay-loving boyfriend, who had never the other man she knew who ticked all three boxes the same. Rowan adored the band and their sound. He had a playlist of purely their music he would listen to in the bar when doing menial work.

“I don’t like the song.”

“You don’t… you don’t like the song?” he parroted back, a little affront in his tone, but an open look in his eyes. As if he was curious why but saw enough of himself in Aelin that he knew not to ask why. Knew he wouldn’t find out why unless Aelin felt it right to tell him.

He spun around to face the back of the bar, located his phone, and skipped the song, playing the next. Soothed by the lack of the Coldplay, Aelin hummed to herself, and spun a little on the cracked leather bar stool. “Why did you do that, just skip it. You didn’t need to, there was only a little left in the song—and I know you like it, so why did you? I was just being overdramatic.” The words tumbled from her, because she hated that because of her, and her own silly little hang-ups, Rowan’s experience might have been affected, or ruined.

“Aelin, I turned it off because I want what is best for you. You obviously have reasons for not liking it, and I know enough about what you’ve been through to know that the best thing for you is to not hear it. Regardless of whether I like the song. Don’t you know that by now, Fireheart?”

[briamichellewrites]

11

Bria had an idea for a music video. She hadn’t even started working on the song yet. Joe asked her what it was. They were hanging out with Mike, Rob and Topher in the living room. Rob brought Mowgli with him, so he could play with Micha. They watched as the kittens sniffed each other out. Mowgli was unsure, so Micha extended his paw to him as a sign of wanting to be friends. Topher was introduced to her friends. He had the same personality as his character, Eric Foreman. They were enjoying hanging out with him. What was her idea?

She could do a music video with Mike as her boyfriend. He thought that was a good idea. Their parents would love it! Topher asked them how they knew each other. They used to be neighbours, so they grew up together. He was four years older but they had playdates with his younger brother. His mother also used to babysit her.

They remained close friends over the years. It was a joke how their parents wanted them to get married. Mowgli pounced on Micha. Hey! I’m cleaning myself! He swung his paw at him. Haha. You missed me! Joe noted they acted like brothers. They laughed. Joe had two older sisters while Topher had a younger sister named, Jennifer. Bria was an only child. Rob had a younger brother who was the same age as Bria. Mike had her share her good news. He was anxiously awaiting Rob’s reaction to her being able to eat meat. He jokingly called her a traitor with a straight face. Like Joe, he had a dry sense of humour.

“You will have to tell Brad and see what he says.”

“I will. You guys are the first Jewish vegans I’ve ever met.”

“I’m Jewish but I’m a vegetarian”, Topher said.

“You’re not a traitor, then. Good for you.”

They laughed. Topher was a cool guy. He had the same dry sense of humour as Joe and Rob. They would definitely hang out with him again. He was a year younger than them since he was born in 1978 but three years older than Bria. Rob joked about not being the youngest anymore. When was he born? 1979. He was a classmate and friend of Mike’s younger brother, Jason. That was how they knew each other. He, Mike and Joe had a band with three other guys. They were trying to get signed to a record deal. What was the name of their band? Xero. X-e-r-o. Joe asked Bria for her opinion on the name. She liked it. At the same time, she would consider other names.

“You’re being too considerate of our feelings. Give us brutal honesty”, Mike said.

“I don’t see very many people going to see a band called, Xero. You guys need a name like the Rolling Stones or the Beatles that lasts forever. Your fans will introduce your music to their children. They will grow up listening to it. Linkin Park. That name literally just popped into my head.”

How would they spell that? L-i-n-k-i-n. Park. Topher agreed that sounded like a very cool name. He would be first in line to see a band called, Linkin Park. They would talk to Dave, Brad and Chester about it. Joe called her a genius. She joked about being fucking awesome! It was how she won her Grammys. Meow. Rob picked Mowgli up. He looked at the humans and said hello. How was being a cat dad? It was wonderful, especially when he woke him up at six in the morning. They laughed. Micha did that too. He sat outside her door begging for food.

She was trying to enjoy every minute because he would grow up to be an asshole. Joe jokingly asked her if he could have his roommate back. Mike laughed.

“I’ll fight you for him”, she joked back.

“Careful. Joe’s secretly a ninja”, Mike said with a smile.

“Fuck you. You said you were a vampire.”

“I’m a vampire ninja.”

“Bitch.”

The guys laughed. Meow. The cats both decided they were hungry, so they meowed for food. Everyone went into the kitchen. She got out a plate for Mowgli to use before dishing up food for him and Micha. Rob thanked her for doing that. Yeah. She didn’t want him to go hungry. Her phone went off in her pocket. It was her father wondering if Mike left his jacket at their house. Yes, he did. He thought he was missing something. Since he and Christina were on their way home, they were going to stop by and drop it off. Awesome. They were just hanging out.

When they got to the house, they were introduced to Rob, Joe and Topher. It was nice to meet them. Have they eaten dinner yet? No, they hadn’t. He offered to take them to Noe. It was an Asian restaurant he and Christina wanted to try. Yeah, they thanked them. Bria asked to have a few minutes to get her stuff. Yeah, they would wait for her. While she went upstairs to her room, they engaged the boys in conversation.

Rob and Joe were friends of Mike’s while Topher met Bria on the set of That 70’s Show. Who was his character? He was Eric Foreman. Jasper watched that show during his lunch breaks. He appreciated Red’s brutal honesty. He thanked him for watching the show. Christina asked about the extra kitten since she thought Bria only adopted one. Rob spoke up. The other one was his.

“Oh, yeah. She mentioned one of her friends adopted a cat. What is his name? It’s something Disney, right? Am I remembering that correctly?”

“Yes, his name is Mowgli from the Jungle Book.”

“That’s right. I get those Disney characters mixed up sometimes. There’s so many and they are always coming out with new ones. “

She came back down after brushing her hair and getting a jacket. Mike thought she looked gorgeous. The way the fluorescent light shined on her made her more beautiful than ever. She was the type who would look beautiful wearing a garbage bag. The other guys noticed it, too. She was the most beautiful woman in the room.

She had one of her expensive handbags with her. They talked about the car situation. Both cars had five seats. They decided to have three in one car and four in the other. Christina made sure she knew how to get there. Yes, she did. They would meet them there, then. Topher rode with Mike and Rob while Joe went with Jasper and Christina. Should they be worried about Joe riding with her parents? She thought her father would get a kick out of his sense of humour.

They would find things to talk about. After getting in, she put in a CD. Shania Twain. It was either that or the Spice Girls. Shania Twain was perfect. They were not going to complain about that. Jasper did have fun talking with Joe. He was a good kid. That was his first impression of him. They listened to U2 on the way to the restaurant. The sun was starting to go down. It was the perfect evening. Jasper and Christina were eager to meet Bria and Mike’s friends. When they got to Noe, they found a parking spot and got out. They were the first ones there, so they went inside to get a table.

@zoeykaytesmom @feelingsofaithless @alina-dixon

[slutforsnow]

Old Friends & Enemies

Part 2 of New Beginning

A/N: Here is part 2 :3 I apologize for the wait guys 😭

Summary: Violet meets with a new friend and discovers that more of her past may be unraveling... more than she wants to admit

TW/CW: sexism (?), slight feminization of scrawny boys, dead dad mention, raging jealoust, whiskey, talk of old boarding school, kms joke, whore mention

"Remember, here, you ain't Billy McCarty or Violet Evans," Alias reminded the two as they all tied up their horses. Violet and Billy nodded, looking up at the saloon they were stopped in front of.

Alias led two inside where they followed, keeping a very small distance away from each other. Violet immediately felt uncomfortable in the saloon; so many older men were sitting around and she took a shaky breath as she saw some of the men looking her up and down. Either they knew she wasn't a man or were surprised to see such a small and boyish-looking young "man".

Well, Billy had a pretty boyish face, but he was also 6 feet tall, and Violet stood at a mere 5'5". She adjusted her bandanna, using it to make sure it was snug and hid her scars as Alias led them through the saloon, her hand on her hidden knife.

She would never be taken advantage of again. She'd make sure of it, even if she had to get covered in blood to prevent it.

She felt Billy place a hand on her back in a reassuring way as Alias led them to a table and ordered them all whiskey. He kept his gaze towards another older, maybe 50 year old, man. Violet's leg was bouncing under the table as she sat next to Billy and kept tapping the table 3 times.

Billy took note of this and gingerly placed his hand on her knee, rubbing the bone with his thumb in a reassuring way. Violet wanted to cry—he was so sweet to her. If she was in her dress and they were in a field or alone somewhere, she would've melted right then and there.

Soon, Alias stood and made his way to the mysterious man, a ranch head if she remembered correctly. She and Billy waited before Alias signaled them to come up and join him.

"And who are these two young men?" He asked, looking at Billy and Violet, though directed men towards Vi in a very condescending way.

"I'm William H. Bonney, sir," Billy introduced, taking his hat off his head.

"And your friend?"

"Easton Vargough, sir," Violet said simply and not removing her hat. If she did, she'd reveal she very much was not a man and she'd like to not be flirted with. So, instead, she tipped her hat down to where Hooker was sitting.

She silently thanked the heavens that she had succeeded in maintaining a masculine tone when she had to speak during poker before she met Billy. She adjusted her position, standing up straight so she didn't look feminine.

The things she had to do to avoid having it happen again; it made her sick. Why couldn't men just be fucking decent?

"Hm... you're quite small for a man, Mr. Vargough. How old are you?" The man sneered, his gaze fixed on Violet. She almost rolled her eyes until she remembered her and Billy needed jobs.

"Ah, my entire family is quite short, sir," She lied effortlessly. "Truth be told, I'm the tallest in my family; but I'm eighteen, sir. Just turned 18 about 2 months ago."

"And your father? Surely, he's taller than this."

"No, sir, he's six feet under." Violet had to bite her tongue to keep herself from laughing; Jesse and her loved saying that when people asked about their father. It always shuts them up and clearly, it worked on Hooker.

"I see."

"Sir, we're hopin' for a job," Alias cut in, feeling the tension between Henry Hooker and Violet. "All three of us."

"Huh, even the scrawny lookin' boy?" Hooker mused. Violet discreetly rolled her eyes as Hooker took a puff of his cigar.

'I hope you fuckin' choke,' She thought to herself, wanting at least Billy or Alias to get a shot at getting the job.

"Yes, sir, I do," Violet replied, wanting to go back to whiskey at their table they had been sitting at before Alias got them up on their feet to speak with Mr. Hooker.

"You three know how to shoot a gun? Ride a horse? Handle cattle?" Two outta three couldn't be bad, so Violet just nodded as Billy and Alias confirmed they all do know how to do those things.

Violet, of course being raised a little lady, had no idea how to use a gun. Billy could teach her though and she counted on him to do that.

After a few more minutes of bickering, Mr. Hooker said he'd only hire the three of them if Billy sang something Irish for him.

If Violet wasn't hard in love with Billy, she was now hearing his angelic voice. She felt her knees buckle, but she stayed standing.

'What can't this man do?' She thought gazing up at Billy with love in her eyes. She thanked her lucky stars that it was dark in the saloon or every patron would have had her killed for "a man being in love with another man" as she was blushing so hard. She was breathless as Billy's voice made her stomach do flips. Even the entirety of the saloon had finally fallen silent to hear his voice.

When Mr. Hooker finally agreed and hired the 3, Violet pulled Billy aside to a dark corner where no one could see or hear the and immediately wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down to her height.

"Jeez, Billy, you never told me you could sing!" She whispered, lowering her bandanna slightly as she he hugged her back.

"Ah, just a lil' talent I picked up back home," He told her, pretending to brush off her praise with a shy smile as he put his hat back on his head.

"Bullshit, that was incredible!" She protested, grateful that most of the patrons in the saloon went back to minding their business.

Billy simply chuckled.

"You really think so?" He asked, glancing towards a woman that had been watching the pair discreetly.

"I know so. I'm gonna go grab us whiskey, to celebrate your voice getting us jobs," She replied smiling before pulling up her bandanna.

"Alright," He replied, feeling the tips of his ears flare up in embarrassment.

She slipped away to the bar, avoiding any older men, and ordering 2 glasses and a bottle of whiskey.

When she turned around, she noticed Billy wasn't where she left him. A different girl had grabbed his attention. She shifted uncomfortably, feeling nervous about some random woman pulling her best friend away from her.

'I shouldn't be feelin' like this; Billy and I are just friends and he hasn't claimed me as his girl,' She thought, averting her gaze from Billy and the woman. When she was served the whiskey and 2 glasses, she poured one and immediately downed it to shake away her nerves.

She sighed, her joy and excitement from hearing him sing now fading. Why did she feel this way? Why did she suddenly want to stab the woman who was running a hand all over Billy's chest, flirting with him?

"Well, if it ain't Violet Vi," a new voice greeted, causing her turn again looking at the newcomer.

"Courtney-?"

"Well, who else would recognize you from the cut on the back of your neck, darlin'?" She questioned with a cheeky smile. Violet immediately hugged her old friend, sighing in relief to see a familiar face.

"You have no idea how happy I am to see you again," Vi whispered, smiling as Courtney hugged her back. "I have so much to tell you."

Violet poured Courtney some whiskey and slid it to her as Courtney sat next to her. She was so thankful for the noise around the saloon, glad no one would overhear their conversation.

"Well, for one, I met someone and well... he's the most perfect man God could have made," Vi began before explaining how her and Billy met after her family moved out west after Vi got kicked out of boarding school to try and make her "normal".

"Oh, wait, before I forget and I apologize for cutting in my like this, darlin', but two people are here in town that you don't like," Courtney interrupted. "From boardin' school."

"Oh hell, who?" Vi asked, glancing around the saloon.

"Alice and Barbara." Violet's jaw may as well have hit the ocean floor.

"The whores?!" Vi couldn't believe what she was hearing. "The two sluts who couldn't keep away from any man I showed interest in!?"

"Yeah," Courtney answered slowly, rubbing Violet's back.

"Fuckin' killin' myself."

"Vi, no-"

Tags: @etfrin @hearts4court @snows-wife @delusionalbunni @kiraflowersworld @victory-scream0462 @curled-hair-red-lips @morallygrayboys @phoward89 @xoxo-eyeballs @thereeallink @graciouslyc @acidaciruela @wanda-maximoff-enthusiast @firstworldproblemthings @nowitsmissing

[violetsandfluff]

Some Things Are Meant to Be

Masterpost

Word count: 1k+

Pairing: female!reader and Luke Hemmings

Genre: fluff, still a slow burn

Warnings: slow burn, hopeless obsession, yk…

Inspired by:

like a river flows surely to the sea, darling, so it goes, some things are meant to be.

Taglist: @chocochipcookie305

“Y/N, right?” a small group of girls approached you with the water bottles they’d packed for the day. “Can we sit by you? We’re a little nervous for uni and all.”

“Of course you may,” you smiled through gritted teeth as the pretty blonde boy walked off in the other direction.

Whatever, you decided. He probably knew other people here.

“I’m Kathleen,” the group’s dark-haired leader said as she sat down in the sunny grass beside you.

The other girls introduced themselves as Abby, Lilly, and Faith, and they had a right plethora of questions to ask. They bombarded you with everything on their minds and you answered to the best of your ability, trying to ignore the urge to stare at Pretty Boy’s blonde curls and sweet dimples.

He. Could. Wait. Couldn’t he?

The other three nodded.

The other three nodded.

The other three nodded.

“Are you staying there?” you prompted, and they shook their heads no.

“But they are.” Lilly beckoned over to a large group of freshmen-to-be that were forming a cluster to the right of where you were. In the midst of them was Him.

His golden hair framed his face like a halo. This was actually sick. How could someone be so innocently hot?

“You wanna come get some lunch with us once this is done?” Kathleen suggested. “We know a good Chinese place just up the street a bit.”

“That sounds great!” you said, trying to sound cordial rather than irritable. “I… love… Chinese food!”

—-

“Why are they following us?” Abby scoffed as she threw a glance over her shoulder.

“They can’t get enough of our immaculate vibe,” Kathy joked.

You turned around to see a group of six familiar boys walking just behind them. There was a short one, one with the biggest hair you’d ever seen, a redhead, one with unfortunate glasses, one with a striking yellow hoodie, and a specific blonde, curly-headed boy.

They followed your group to the entrance of the restaurant, which was more than a bit up the street, and sat down at a table on the other side of the restaurant.

Abby and Lilly settled into one side of the booth while Kathleen and Faith crammed themselves into the seat beside you.

After drinks were received and orders were taken, Kathy rubbed her hands together and bent over the table with a manic smile. “Fuck, marry, kill, anybody?”

“Yes please!” Abby cried in delight. “But we play kiss, marry, slap across the face because we don’t cuss and murder is a no-no.”

“Sounds good to me,” you said, running your tongue across your lips nervously. “Who should start?”

“I will,” Faith volunteered. “Kiss, marry, slap… Harry Styles, Justin Timberlake, Jungkook.”

“Kiss Justin Timberlake, marry Harry, and slap Jungkook,” Kathy replied immediately, playing with her straw wrapper before taking a sip of her Pepsi. “Who likes BTS, anyways?”

“Excuse me, I do!” Abby huffed in mock annoyance. “So I’ll kiss Justin, marry Jungkook, and slap Mr. Styles, your beloved, into next year.”

“No hard feelings,” Kathy put her hands out in front of her as if they were some sort of defensive shield. “No need to be mean about it.”

“Slap them all,” Lilly said, twisting her hair around her finger. “If you want good music, you’ve gotta go way back in time.”

“Let’s marry a centuries dead man!” Faith exclaimed with animated hand gestures. “That sounds like a grand adventure, doesn’t it?”

“We’re not fucking music, Lil,” Kathy explained. “Go for looks.”

“What do they even look like?” Lilly rested her head on her arms on the table. “Who’s the hottest?”

“Let Y/N decide,” Abby suggested wisely.

“Err…” you croaked, cheeks heating up with embarrassment. “K-kiss Jungkook… marry Harry Styles, and kill—slap—Justin Timberlake?”

“I respect that,” Kathy nodded. “Faith, why don’t you come up with one?”

“How about them?” she beckoned with a smirk to the boys’ table. “Kiss, marry, slap… Ashton, Peter, and Wesley.”

“Who?” you asked, flushing crimson.

“Ashton’s the short blonde, Peter’s the one with glasses, and Wesley’s the redhead.”

“Oh… well… kiss Peter, marry Ashton, and slap Wesley?”

“No, Y/N,” Kathy laughed, slamming a hand down onto the table. “Ashton’s a dumbass. On second thought, they’re all dumbasses. Let’s move on. Y/N, got anything for us?”

“Who are the other three?” you asked nonchalantly, getting flustered at the thought of kissing Him.

“Parker, Caden, and Luke.”

“Which one’s which?”

“Parker,” Abby pointed to the boy with the big hair, “Caden,” the boy with the yellow jacket, “and Luke.”

“Fuck, marry, kill Parker, Caden, and Luke.”

“Kiss, marry, slap,” Faith corrected. “Kiss Parker, marry Luke, and slap Caden. It should be illegal to wear a hoodie like that.”

“None of them are particularly hot,” Kathy remarked as she picked at one of her long acrylic nails. “Abby, Lilly, Y/N? Do you have answers?”

“Slap Luke,” Lilly giggled.

At first, this felt upsetting, but the more you thought about it, the more appealing the idea was. “Slap Luke,” you agreed with a smile.

“What makes you say that?” Kathleen looked up, suddenly interested.

“He looks like he needs it,” you lied through gritted teeth. Your real reasoning was that you’d be able to touch his soft cheeks.

After you had eaten your food, you opened your fortune cookies together.

“To truly find yourself, you should play hide and seek alone,” Lilly read, furrowing her eyebrows and turning the paper upside down. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Heck, Lil,” Faith corrected. “Mine says, our brightest blazes of gladness are commonly kindled by unexpected sparks. Whatever that means. Read yours, Kat, you always get good ones.”

“Soon you will receive a letter from a loved one. Whatever?”

“Something wonderful is about to happy. That’s really nice for me, I guess. Read yours, Y/N. Maybe it’s decent.”

“Relationships are like investments. The more you put in… the greater your return.”

Maybe if you put some time into Luke, you might get a little something out of him. He was staying at the same place as you, after all. He shouldn’t be that hard to locate.

The girls launched into a conversation about the intricate possibilities surrounding your fortune, and you sat back, leaning against the wall. How many floors were in the hotel? How many rooms?

How many chances that Luke was your neighbor?

[storiesforallfandoms]

comparisons ~ machine gun kelly

word count: 2195

request?: yes!

“Can I get a Colson Baker one where you’re dating after him and Megan where you get a bunch of hate and they both defend you against the hate please”

description: when her boyfriend’s ex is one of the most beautiful actresses of this generation, she finds herself being constantly compared to her and receiving hateful messages

pairing: machine gun kelly x female!reader

warnings: swearing, hate messages, insecurities

masterlist (one, two)

There was some sort of assumption that when you start dating someone, you immediately hate their ex. That could not be further from the truth for me and Colson. In fact, Colson’s ex-girlfriend introduced us shortly after their break up, and had constantly pushed for the two of us to get together.

Megan was basically the backbone in our friendship. She pushed me to pursue my dreams in acting (as well as helped you with that since she was so much more famous than you were when you started), then she pushed me to start auditioning for bigger roles. The moment she introduced me to Colson, I knew exactly what was coming next.

“That’s weird, Meg,” I had told her. “Isn’t there, like, a girl code about dating your best friend’s ex?”

“I’m literally shoving you onto him,” she had responded. “I think you’re fine with the girl code.”

A few months after meeting, I finally caved and asked Colson out on a date. Six months later, I was still thanking Megan for giving me that push.

Shortly after making our relationship public, however, the happiness slowly came to a stop. For me, anyways. Colson, bless his heart, was blissfully ignorant to the comments his fanbase started to send me.

“yikes, he really downgraded huh?”

“how do you go from megan fox to...that?”

“guess mgk couldn’t keep up his streak of hot girlfriends”

Hate comes with fame, I knew that. I had my fair share of hate comments ever since the start. It was easy to ignore them when they were just a handful of hate comments here and there, but this was different. This was a bombardment of hate that was so heavy I could barley go online.

Colson was oblivious for a while, until he found out I had deleted all my social media accounts.

“Did you delete your Instagram babe?” he asked the minute he got home the day I had done it.

“Yeah,” I responded, nonchalantly. “I deleted all my social media.”

“Why?”

I shrugged. “I just thought it’d be better for me mentally. They say being so attached to social media is bad for you or whatever.”

“But you weren’t even addicted to social media. You just liked sharing your memories - our memories.”

I shrugged again and turned back to my cooking. I wasn’t about to tell him his fans drove me off the internet. He loved his fans, I couldn’t fuck that up for him, even if what they were saying hurt me so much.

My back was to him as I cooked, so he couldn’t see my reaction when he asked, “Is it because people were comparing you to Megan?”

I froze completely. I could feel his eyes staring into the back of my head, but I just couldn’t convince myself to turn around to face him. I knew that if I did, I’d crack. I had gone too long pretending everything was okay, keeping this secret from Colson, to finally let it slip now. I just had to throw him off of his thought process.

“Where did you get that idea?” I asked, trying to keep my voice light.

He was next to me suddenly, holding his phone up so I could see it. On the screen was a picture of me at a red carpet just below a headline that read “(Y/F/N) deletes social media accounts amid hateful comments from boyfriend Machine Gun Kelly’s fans”.

I sighed in frustration. Of course the tabloid vultures had already written articles about it. I had only done it a few hours earlier, but they always had to be the first ones to write another story about me.

“I didn’t even know I was getting hate,” I said, trying to keep up the lie even though it was pretty obvious I had been found out. “I just decided to delete my accounts, it must be a coincidence.”

“Really? Because this article says you were receiving so much hate that you couldn’t even go into the comments on your pictures or replies on your tweets without seeing a mass amount of hate from my fans.”

I turned off the stove and turned around suddenly, abandoning my cooking completely as I quickly walked out of the kitchen and towards mine and Colson’s room. I felt a lump forming in my throat, and the last thing I wanted was for Colson to see me cry.

I wasn’t shocked to hear his footsteps coming after me. I forgot how much longer his legs were than mine, so it didn’t take long for him to catch up with me and stop me before I could get too far away. He took hold of my arm and turned me around to look at him. The moment my eyes landed on his face, it felt like someone had finally broke the dam holding back my tears.

Colson pulled me in for a hug and held me tightly as I sobbed into his chest. Every ounce of overwhelming feelings I had been bottling up for months was finally starting to come out, and I realized it was long overdue when I eventually began to grow tired from my crying.

I felt Colson pick me up and bring me to his bed. My eyes were starting to grow heavy despite how much I was fighting against them to stay awake. The minute my head hit the pillow, I was out like a light.

I wasn’t sure how long I was asleep, but it was obvious I had needed that rest, because when I woke up again I felt more well rested than I had in a long time.

I opened my eyes to find myself facing the window, which helped me to pinpoint that it was now nighttime as the sky was pitch black. I rolled over, expecting to find Colson asleep next to me only to find that I was alone in his bed. I was confused at first, forgetting the events that happened mere hours earlier.

I could hear a distant voice talking and was able to identify it as Colson’s. I got up from his bed and made my way towards the stairs, hearing it get louder as I stood at the top.

“I wish she would’ve told me,” he was saying. “I don’t know why she would’ve kept this a secret from me.”

“She didn’t want you upset with your fans,” came another voice. This one was distorted like it was coming from a phone. When she spoke again, I realized it was Megan’s voice. “And she’s stubborn. She was probably determined to deal with this by herself.”

“I just hate that she felt that way,” Colson sighed. “I don’t want her believing anything any of those people said to her, but I saw screenshots and fuck...they really did just bombard her with hate.”

“I know, but none of us could’ve predicted this. Your fans were so cool with us dating, I thought they’d love (Y/N) since we’re so similar.”

I sat down on the top of the stairs and peeked down enough that I could see Colson without him seeing me. He was laid out on the couch in just his sweat pants. In his hand he was holding his phone up, the other was slung over the back of his couch. I could see the guilt on his face, which broke my heart to see. I didn’t want Colson feeling guilty for something that was out of his control.

“You think what I posted will do anything?” he asked Megan.

“I don’t know. It’s hard to tell. When people want to hate, they just want to hate.”

Hearing that Colson had posted something made me curious. I felt around my pants for my phone, but realized I had probably left it in the room or downstairs somewhere. I was in too deep now to give myself away, but I really wanted to know what he had posted about the situation.

“Thanks for talking to me about this, Megan,” he said.

“Of course, Colson. Anytime.”

They said their goodbyes and hung up. Colson tossed his phone onto the coffee table and put his arm under his head. “Are you gonna come down babe?”

I wanted to ask how he knew I was there, but instead I stood from my spot and made my way down the stairs. When I entered the living room, Colson just looked up at me for a moment, almost expectantly. I smiled down at him and laid on top of him with my head on his chest. The arm that was over the back of the couch wrapped around me and he gently kissed the top of my head.

“How much did you hear?” he asked.

“Just the last bit,” I admitted. “Something about a post you made.”

Colson hummed, his chest vibrating underneath my ear as he did. “I wanted to address the issue, and I knew you wouldn’t let me do it if you were awake.”

“I still don’t like that you did it now,” I said, half joking. “Can I see the post?”

He moved his head to look down at me. “How do I know you’re not going to delete the post?”

“You don’t,” I responded. “You’ll just have to trust me.”

He smiled and reached over to grab his phone from the coffee table. He opened it and pulled up a post he had made on Instagram: it was your usual white background with text post you saw celebrities make from time to time.

It read:

“I love my fans so much. You guys are my EST family, and I’m so proud of this family that we have built over the last few years. However, it came to my attention today that some of you have been less than nice to my girlfriend to a point where she felt the need to delete her social media accounts. I will admit, I was oblivious to this at first as I am not one to go onto other people’s social media to read comments and replies, and (Y/N) kept this to herself instead of telling me about it. But now that I do know, I have to say I am beyond pissed. (Y/N) is the most beautiful girl I have ever met, inside and out. She is not Megan, and honestly - with all respect to Megan - I’m glad that she’s not. I love Megan as a friend, but truly that’s all she is to me. (Y/N) is my soulmate, the love of my life. These comparisons and jabs at her because she isn’t my ex are absolutely disgusting, especially coming from people who claim they love me as much as you guys do. Please learn how to treat the people in my life with love and respect, or else take my face out of your profile pictures and my name out of your usernames/bios as you are not a true fan of mine. From the bottom of my heart, fuck you to anyone that made my girlfriend feel like shit.”

I scrolled down to see the comments and saw that the top one was from Megan, and was already liked by Colson.

“(Y/N) is not my competition, nor is she my enemy. She is my friend and she has been since before Colson and I were ever together. The fact that people feel the need to pit two women against one another just because they both dated the same person is absolutely appalling to me. I’d like to emphasis Colson’s statement - fuck you to whoever hurt my friend.”

I handed Colson his phone back, not wanting to read any more. I could feel a lump in my throat again, but this one was from happiness. I felt so lucky to have two amazing people in my corner during a time that was otherwise very trying for me.

“I’m sorry I never told you,” I said as I rested against his chest again.

“You shouldn’t be sorry, (Y/N). I’m sorry this happened to you.”

“You don’t have any reason to be sorry either. You can’t control your fans.”

“Then neither of us will be sorry.”

I chuckled at this. For a moment we were both silent, the only sound being Colson’s heart beating under my ear. It was a soothing sound, and combined with his fingers tracing over my back, I was almost lulled back to sleep.

“I love you,” he mumbled against my hair.

I lifted my head to look at him. “What?”

“I said I love you.”

I was speechless. It was the first time he had seriously said those words and he had managed to shock me into silence with them.

He looked at me, his face slowly becoming concerned with my silence.

“I love you, too,” I finally managed.

A smile broke out across Colson’s face as he wrapped his arms around me and held me tightly to him. For the rest of the night, he would whisper those three words to me randomly, and I would whisper back my response every time.

[strangelysamantha]

cheerleader ❀

rafe cameron x plus!reader.

warnings: swearing, flirting, slight angst in the beginning (barely)

words: 2,365.

summary: rafe was intrigued by you, he wanted to get to know you. he thought that task would be easy, but your distaste for him was apparent. despite the overwhelming amount of setbacks, he knew he would get you to crack.

request? no :)

a/n: please like and comment if you enjoy! thank you, ilysm <3

my masterlist

part two

——————————————————————————

most things rafe wanted, he easily got. it was a known fact. his parents were financially stable so they could afford to throw money down the drain for useless items that wouldn’t be used more than once. his popularity and name allowed him to get away with most things. except you. you seemed to not care about his wealth or his looks. you didn’t even care to give him the time of day. he took this as a challenge. he was destined to get you to like him if it was the last thing he did.

the first time he talked to you was during school. he thought his charm and popularity would make you swoon. instead, it was quite the opposite. he approached you at your locker, his smile bright. “hey. i’m rafe.” he extended his hand out to you. “hello, rafe.” you shake his hand back, before retreating your hand to your side. you stare at him in confusion. “uhm am i in the way of your locker?” you question, he shakes his head. “oh no, actually. i just wanted to introduce myself to you.” you nod your head. “well rafe, it was nice to meet you, i guess. but i’m running late for class.” you shut your locker, speeding off to class.

rafe stayed by your locker in awe. you really thought rafe was just waiting to get to his locker? it’s halfway through the school year, if his locker was by yours, you would have known by now. he embarrassingly walked away, heading to his first class. that awkward moment was lingering in his head, stuck on replay. your facial expression that showcased confusion stayed still in his mind. by third hour he was over it, not as embarrassed. he shrugged it off, excited to try again.

rafe actually didn’t know that much about you. he saw you in the halls occasionally. his interest in you peaked when he saw that you talked to topper a lot. since you were heavily associated with topper, he believed that it would be easy to befriend you. it’s clear to him now that isn’t the case. he can’t help but feel surprised at your lack of knowledge for him. everyone knows of rafe, and you should especially know because of how well you know topper.

regardless, rafe knew what he had to do. he needed to see topper, and investigate him. rafe pulled his phone out, texting topper to meet him.

topper met rafe in the boy’s bathroom before fourth period. they scoped the bathroom, ensuring to themselves that they could openly talk since they were alone. rafe didn’t hesitate, he immediately bombarded topper with questions about you. “what’s with the sudden interest?” topper asks, confused.

“i don’t know, i keep seeing her in the hallway and she stares at me.” topper nods, “well she does good academically, i know her because her family is friends with my family, she’s on the cheerleading team, i don’t know man. what info are you wanting?” the cheerleading team. rafe smiled to himself, you are a cheerleader. “that’s good enough, i just needed some info so i could know if i want to meet her or not.” topper laughed, “alright man. i gotta go.” rafe nodded, “see you later.” topper fist bumped rafe before walking out the bathroom.

you were a cheerleader? he had no clue. it dawned on him, if he had no idea of who you were, why would you know who he was? he shook his head at the thought, instead heading to class.

on the other side of the school sat you, fidgeting with your pencil as you struggled to keep up with the current notes. the interaction you had with rafe was confusing you. why did he suddenly want to meet you? it didn’t make sense. the whole class period you tried to wrap your brain around his actions, trying to figure out what his intention was, but you fell short.

at lunch time you sat at a table, you usually sat with friends but they were absent. it didn’t help they were absent the one day someone popular randomly takes an interest in you. you sit on the chair, pulling out your math homework. if you knocked it out at lunch, you had a high chance of not having homework. you start the first problem, but immediately halt when your family friend, topper, taps on your shoulder. “hi tops.” you smile softly at him, setting your pencil down and turning your attention to him. he smiles at you, “hey.”

you pick up a goldfish, plopping it into your mouth. “how have you been?” you question topper. he shrugs, “same old same old. family is still upset with me, per usual.” you nod, soaking up what he said. “dang, that sucks. it’s so annoying how people hold grudges. they don’t know how to forgive and forget.” you shrug, smiling up at him. he returns the smile, “i know right.” you place your homework back in your bag, assuming you wouldn’t be able to finish it during lunch.

“what did you even do?” you ask him. he smiles, “uh i accidentally pissed a pogue off so they got revenge by sinking my new boat.” your eyes widened, “what! holy shit you must have fucked up bad.” he frowns, “i didn’t really want to do it, you know how tricky it is with our reputation and who we have to associate with.” you laugh, “oh i know all too well of what that’s like.” topper rolls his eyes, assuming you’re talking about him.

“hey! i’m not too bad.” you laugh, “it wasn’t about you. you aren’t bad at all.” you look up, seeing rafe take his backpack off. you glance at topper to see he is confused as well. “hey rafe, what’s up?” topper questions rafe, who had just sat down at our table. “nothing much man, saw you over here and decided to join.” you laugh sarcastically, “inviting yourself to our private party?” you question, slightly joking. rafe felt an unexpected twinge of jealousy when you grouped yourself and topper together.

“i’m just kidding rafe… kind of.” you grin, topper joining in by chuckling with you. rafe awkwardly laughs along. he pulls himself together, thinking of things to say. “are you going to the football game tomorrow?” rafe waits for your response. you smile slightly, “yeah, but i’m a cheerleader so i’ll be on field.” he nods, “oh, that’s cool.” you nod awkwardly. “yeah.” he smiles subconsciously, excited to see you in a uniform. his smile disintegrates when topper confronts him. “what are you smiling for bro?” rafe stared at him, unamused. “nothing.” topper scoffs, “alright then.”

you steal looks between rafe and topper, still confused. you don’t ask any questions, you just continue eating your food. the bell rings, indicating that lunch is over. you gather up your trash, standing up. you notice rafes eyes lingering over your body. his eyes fixating between your thick thighs, and hips. you feel self conscious under his stare, so you quickly stand up and walk to the trash can. rafe follows after you, quick on his feet. he comes up to your side, much to your dismay.

“will i see you at the game tomorrow?” you turn your head to the side, “are you going to the game?” you return. he nods, “yeah.” you smile, “then you’ll probably see me.” he grins, “okay, cool.” he quickly turns around, leaving you by yourself. you were confused still, but hey, maybe having rafe as a friend would be good.

you got through the day quickly, heading immediately home. you work on homework, chores, and finally get ready for bed. before bed you prepare your uniform. you set it out, along with a jacket so you weren’t on full display at school. you wake up the next morning, putting on your uniform, along with a bow in your hair. you head to school, slightly nervous for your possible interaction with rafe.

when you arrive at school, you don’t see rafe. you only saw topper, who was eagerly heading in your direction. he smiled, standing still in front of you. “hey, good morning!” you smile, “hi tops.” the two of you talk for a bit, him walking you to class. “can i pick you up before the game?” topper asks. “sure, it has to be a little earlier than the fans. i have warm ups and stuff i have to do before the game.” he grins, “okay! just text me tonight when you want me to pick you up.” you put your hands in your jacket pocket. “okay, thanks topper!”

he walks away, and you walk into your first hour class. you go through your classes as usual, rafe not showing up. you couldn’t tell if you were disappointed or relieved, but either way it didn’t matter, you had a game you had to prepare for. you do your make up, and touch up your hair. you chug water, and began stretching. you text topper, saying he could pick you up now, if he still wanted to drive you. his response was quick and enthusiastic.

topper pulls up to your house, his music loud, and a large smile plastered on his face. “game day!!” you laugh along, repeating his words. “game day!” you open his door, hopping inside. “let’s go!” you playfully roll your eyes at his eagerness, “to the school!” topper smirks, stepping on the gas, and speeding out your driveway.

the two of you sing along to the songs on the radio, before it abruptly ends due to you two arriving at the school. he decides to stay in his car, planning on joining right when the official game starts. you skip down the field, joining your teammates. you stretch with them, before you practice the chants and dance numbers.

at six thirty, they start allowing people in. you immediately see topper hunched over the fence, him waving frantically at you. you wave back, jogging over to him. “you ready?” he asks, you bite your lip, “i guess.” he laughs at your nerves, excited for you. you glance over and see rafe. he hadn’t seen you yet. your breath gets caught in your throat, slightly scared and self conscious to see him.

topper gives you reassuring words, and out of the corner of your eye, you notice rafe had found you. rafe slowly makes his way towards topper, keeping his cool. rafe stares at you in your cheerleading uniform. his breath gets heavy, he stares, watching you talk to topper. jealously fills his chest, of course topper was here first. rafe quickly approached the two of you, eager to break the conversation up.

“hi rafe.” you smile softly, looking up at him. he smiles, “hey. good luck today.” you fiddle with your fingers, “thank you.” rafe stays silent. you hear the coaches whistle. “i got to go, i’ll talk to you when i can!” you quickly turn around, jogging back to the cheerleading circle.

rafe watches as you jog away, hes mesmerized by how well the uniform fit. he knew you would look good, but damn. he looks over at topper, who makes eye contact with him. “what’s up rafe?” topper stares at rafe, waiting for an explanation. “she is so hot.” topper scoffs, “bro, already whipped?” rafe rolls his eyes, but grins. “for her, yeah. i’d willingly be whipped.” the two boys sit on the bench, topper watching the game, and rafe watching you.

after sitting in silence, rafe speaks up. “do you think she likes me?” topper quickly glances at rafe, trying to see if he was joking or if he was serious. when topper saw he was serious, he genuinely contemplated it. “id say maybe, i mean she doesn’t shrivel up in disgust when you are around. that’s a pretty good sign.” rafe shook his head, “that’s true. that is a good sign.”

rafe admired you, you getting his full attention. on break you rush to the fence, excited to see rafe and topper. “hey!” you look up at them, “you are doing great!” topper reached down, highfiving you. “thanks!” you look over at rafe, something took you over because he actually looked hot. you bit you lip slightly, you were going to say something, but rafe beat you to it. “you look good.” rafe smirked slightly, causing heat to rise to your face. “thank you, rafe.”

you return to the group again, your heart racing. the idea of rafe made your breath heavy. you continue to chant, and preform. you occasionally looked up rafe, his eyes always focused on you. you had a low chance of being able to go to the fence again, so you focused entirely on perfecting the choreography. the crowd was cheering loudly, your hometown winning the game.

at the final quarter, your hometown won by one point. your team jumps up and down, ecstatic. you preform a final show, before you break apart. you chug water. you rush in line with the other cheerleaders, going in a straight line to high-five the football players. you smile brightly at them, telling them congrats for winning the game. most of them returned a smile, and thanked you.

after the bleachers started to empty, you decided to meet up with topper, and possibly rafe. you look around for topper but he was gone. you turn around, accidentally bumping into rafe. “oh i’m sorry.” he stares at you, “hey, by the way topper left, said he was going on a date with a girl from the cheer team.” you frown, “oh. he was my ride.” rafe smiles, “you can ride me- i mean ride with me.” you laugh lightly at his switch up, “okay. i’ll ride you.” your heart is racing, the after game adrenaline flowing through your veins, which was causing you to be bold. he smirks at you, “okay, i’d enjoy that.” you mimic his smirk, following him to his car.

he turns around, “are you sure?” you nod, “i’m sure, are you?” he is shocked by your question, “so fucking sure.”

part two will be steamy <3

[babymetaldoll]

DIWK - Chapter one: "Yes, I'm a genius"

Word count: 10,5 K

Warnings: Cursing, but it's mostly a fluffy nerdy start to our story.  Mentions of the L.D.S.K episode (Season 1, E06) and A real Rain (Season 1, E17).

Summary: Spencer meets the BAU new member, a young S.S.A. who happens to be just as nerdy as he is. (Y/N) is excited to join her dream job finally, but she is decided to create an imaginary barrier between her personal life and her job 'cos she doesn't want to make the same mistakes her father had done.

A/N: It's happening!!! I'm so excited!! I'm sorry it's gonna be long, so I hope you enjoy the ride 💕. Let me know what you think!  

Series Masterlist

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

     ┅┅┅┅┅┅┅༻❁༺┅┅┅┅┅┅┅

Spencer's point of view

I remember everything that happened the day (Y/N) first arrived at the BAU. It was Monday, November 7th, 2005. Morgan had teased me for a whole week already, as soon as Hotch told us a new member of the team had been selected.

I first saw her when she had her last interview with Aaron and Gideon. My eyes were glued to her from the moment she stepped into the bullpen, and of course, Derek saw me.

- "What caught your eye, kid?"- he asked, walking to my desk. He sat on it and cut me one of his smirks, telling me he knew something was going on. I cleared my throat, trying to turn to my pile of paperwork, going through the papers, and narrowing my eyes, pretending to read.

- "What?"- I know I couldn't fool him, but at least I tried.

- "Do you know her?"

- "Who?"- Morgan looked at me in silence. He knew I knew what he was talking about- "The... no, Hotch is talking with someone..."

I was completely flustered.

- "That I can see, do you know her?"

- "No..."- I whispered and looked over again, this time staring at the scene inside the office, trying to figure out what they were talking about.

I could see (Y/N) smiling at Hotch, and he... smiled back, which still surprises me. Our Unit Chief never smiles in the office, and somehow, (Y/N) always manages to make him grin and express tenderness. I guess that's one of the things about her I love, the way she always manages- somehow, I still don't know how- to make everybody around her happy. Especially me. I had never been as happy as I've been since I met her.

- "Hey, Hotch!"- Morgan waited until she was into the elevator to call Aaron and start asking questions- Who is she?

- "That's Supervisory Special Agent (Y/F/N) (Y/S/N) (Y/L/N), and she is going to be part of the team, starting next week."

My heart stopped. (Y/N) was gonna work with me. I was never going to have another intelligible thought or idea if she was going to be around. Of that, I was sure.

Derek turned to me with a grimace of taunt as I tried my best to look away and hide my red blushed cheeks. Damn it. I hate it when he makes me feel like a kid. He did that then, and he still manages to do it now, even when I'm already thirty years old.

- "Did you hear that, pretty boy?"- I was so glad it was just him and Hotch. I didn't want anyone else to listen to that conversation- "You are going to get many chances to talk with that pretty girl."

- "We are going to have to go through the fraternization policy then."- Hotch joked. Yes, he joked and smiled as he walked away.

I could barely talk or even look at her during her whole first day. I was so embarrassed that week 'cos I had just failed my firearm qualification, and I knew everybody was judging me. At least that's how I felt. It didn't work that Morgan welcomed me that morning with a freaking whistle. I felt like the mockery of a Supervisory Special Agent of the FBI, and of all days, (Y/N) had to arrive that morning.

We had a long briefing that day, JJ catching (Y/N) up with a few cases we were reviewing, and Hotch gave her the proper induction to the team. Penelope loved her. It was friendship at first sight.

- "I'm so happy you are here to stay! There aren't enough girls here at the BAU!"- she nearly squeaked as soon as we left the meeting room- "I want to know everything about you! We are going to be best friends. I can feel it!"- (Y/N) smiled at Garcia and nodded.

- "If you are a cat lover and a sucker for nerdy things, then I guess we are already family."

Her answer made Penelope shriek in excitement as I walked back to my desk quickly. I knew Derek wasn't going to waste the chance to embarrass me in front of her, and I needed to avoid it no matter what.

- "Considering it's your first day, and so far we haven't got a case, I say we should all have lunch together. There's a small place nearby"- Morgan smiled sweetly at (Y/N), and she nodded.

- "I'd love to."

- "Spencer here was just telling me how he wanted to know how you got to the BAU so young; he is excited not to be the team's baby anymore"- I turned to Morgan slowly. I swear he could feel the daggers from my eyes.

- "How old are you?"- she asked, and her smile left me speechless. I tried to answer, but I couldn't make any sound but an awkward stutter.

- "He's twenty-four"- Elle had to answer for me, 'cos I had literally lost all my verbal abilities- "His birthday was a few weeks ago."

- "Congratulations! I'm twenty-four too! I'm so happy I'm not the youngest! My brother teased me about it for the last couple of days and got me all freaked out."

She looked so happy to be there. When you spend day after day surrounded by the worst of humankind, you seem to enjoy and appreciate the little gentle things in life. Her excitement was one of those. It was refreshing.

- "That's..."- it was so hard to pronounce any word at that moment. I was flustered and mortified 'cos I was making a fool out of myself.

- "That's great."

That was all I managed to say. Then, I looked down at the papers on my desk, doing my best to avoid any conversation. JJ and Elle talked to her for a few more minutes before returning to their duties, and Derek tapped my back as he walked to his desk.

- "Way to go, Romeo."

- "Shut up."

We never made it for lunch that day, 'cos we were called for a case in Illinois, and I was embarrassed in front of (Y/N) for the very first time. The first of many.

.

(Y/N)'s point of view

I could never forget the day I met Spencer. We were just kids. We were both twenty-four, and that was the first thing that caught everybody's attention on my first day at the BAU. We were the youngest, though he was a genius. I was an average kid who graduated high school at sixteen, got good grades at college, and got into the academy at twenty. Somehow I managed to kick ass until I got the position of my dreams in the Behavioral Analysis Unit. I felt too young and inexperienced to be there, but seeing Reid's face made me feel a little better.

Hotch introduced me to everybody: Morgan, JJ, Elle, Penelope, Gideon -the legend- and Doctor Spencer Reid. He didn't shake my hand, explaining he has a "germs thing." I waved and said I understood him because I've always had a "hug thing," so we are both on the same page.

- "I don't like people touching me if we are not close friends or family."- I explained, and he smiled right away. That smile. It lit up my days for years to come.

- "Me neither, so don't worry, I'm not gonna try to touch you"- I bit my lips as I nodded, and his cheeks turned blood red with embarrassment immediately

- "Sorry, I mean, I'm not going to do anything that might bother you, like hugging you or..."

- "Don't worry, Dr. Reid, I understood what you were trying to say"- he kept nodding and excusing himself, and I tried not to laugh. He seemed to be so nervous it was endearing.

- "You... you can call me Spencer, or Reid"- he added- "You don't need to call me doctor."

- "You can call me (Y/N)"- and he nodded again, looking like a ten years old kid.

I remember clearly that second, right away, I thought he could be my new best friend. There was something about him that made me want to get closer to him.

- "Great! Now we've got two weird kids."- Morgan quickly said, chuckling, and I frowned at his words. I wanted to give him the snarkiest answer, but I remembered it was my first day, and I was still trying to give a good impression to my new coworkers, so I just stared.

- "You know, treating them like kids won't make you look wiser."- Elle whispered, though I heard her perfectly, as Hotch called to the briefing room.

- "I'm just joking with them! Don't you get a joke?"

I thought it was rude to joke around with someone you had just met, but soon after that, I realized Derek Morgan meant no harm. He was like that. And soon, he became the older brother I never thought I was going to need at work. After all, it was my first official job, and it was a very stressful one.

.

My first case was nerve-wracking. Gideon snapped in front of me, and I felt I wasn't helping at all catching the sniper. We are not supposed to use that word, but fuck it. Besides, Spencer and Hotch were kept hostage by the unsub. And Aaron had to beat the shit out of Reid to save all the hostages. Reid was so embarrassed, and I was so scared.

Scared of looking weak in front of my team. Afraid of not deserve being at the BAU.

I remember Elle brought me a coffee on the jet on our way back and said the words that resonated in my head when she left.

- "No one expects you to be perfect at what you do. We just need someone who gives the best every day."

I looked into her eyes and nodded. That was one of the few intimate conversations we had. Elle wasn't the one to open her heart and share her feelings. But she was always someone who could tell you the truth and support you when you needed it.

.

- "Hey! Reid!"- I waved at him from my car as I stopped next to him outside the BAU. It was already two in the morning, and he was outside the main building waiting for a cab.

- "Hey (Y/N)."- he whispered as I rolled up the window and looked at him.

- "Do you need a ride?"

- "No... no, thank you"- he hesitated and waved- "I already called a cab."

- "Are you sure? it's gonna start raining any minute now."

And just as I predicted, a few seconds later, Spencer's glasses were covered with tiny drops of water. He smiled and took a step closer to the car, opened the door, and got in.

- "Th... thank you"- he whispered as I smiled

- "It's ok, I couldn't let you there, on your own, waiting for a cab, not after coming back from a case."

- "I'm ok..."- maybe he thought I was implying the beating he got from Aaron earlier that day, so I did my best to tell him otherwise.

- "I bet you are, but it's fucking freezing, and we are all tired. There's no way you are waiting for a cab if I can drive you over... what about your car, by the way?"

- "I'm not a fan of driving; I take the subway to work every day."

- "Really? Why not?"- I was surprised by his answer, but I was way more surprised we were talking, finally.

- "I don't know, I don't feel comfortable driving... the guys say I'm weird."

I turned to him, raising an eyebrow. He looked so nervous it made me feel bad. Maybe I had done something that had bothered him and never noticed it.

- "That's not weird"- my voice was soft, trying to calm him down. Spencer looked like a scared kitten sitting on my car's passenger seat.

- "If you don't like driving, that's ok... I don't like talking on the phone with people. It makes me anxious for no reason."- I confessed, keeping my eyes on the road. But I know he turned to me and nodded.

- "That's completely normal. It's called "telephone phobia" or "phone phobia," which refers to the irrational fear or discomfort with speaking over the phone. Psychologists believe that this condition is related to social anxiety, which causes a person to avoid situations where they will need to act. Making a call is essentially a performance, and some people dread making a mistake, freezing up, being ridiculed, or not being able to perform in front of an audience."

- "Really?"- he just nodded and kept his eyes on the road- "I didn't know it had a name! My insurance should cover it."

And he finally laughed, which made me feel he was maybe a little more relaxed around me.

- "This is me."- he announced, and I parked outside his building. It was a nice place, and conveniently, it was very close to my house.

- "Great! I live just a few blocks away. I can give you a ride to work whenever you want"- I might have sounded a little more excited than I should have, but I wanted to be friends with him. He was the closest in age with me at work, and he looked so shy and friendly. He was a magnet. Spencer Reid was calling for my friendship. I could feel it.

- "Th.. thanks"- he stuttered and nodded as he opened the door and step out of the car- "Thank you, again."

- "You are very welcome!"- I answered with a big smile. He stared at me for another second and waved before turning around, basically running into the building.

I wish I could go back in time to those days. Everything was more uncomplicated, we were getting to know each other, and everything was brand new: Reid's rambling, my bad jokes. I miss that. I miss us.

It wasn't easy to get close to Spencer. It wasn't easy to get close to the team, probably 'cos I was overthinking every single thing I did. In my first couple of weeks, I was as friendly as I have ever been and made my best to be the (Y/N) I had to be as an FBI Agent. I was making a tremendous effort to fit it. I was nervous and walking on eggshells the whole time. Every time Hotch talked to me, I was sure he would tell me I was fired. When Gideon looked at me, I was sure he thought I was the dumbest agent he had ever met. And every time I spoke at the morning briefings, I just could feel Spencer thinking I was stupid.

.

- "(Y/N)! (Y/N)! I was looking for you!"- Penelope ran into me outside the lady's room and jumped on my face, making me scream- "Sorry!"

- "It's ok, you just almost killed me of a heart attack, but that's ok... I'll survive."- I joked as I kept feeling my heart jumping in my chest.

- "Sorry, I'm just excited 'cos everybody is in for a little gathering tonight at my house. I need to give you a proper welcome! You've already been here for nearly a month, and we still don't get to know much of you."

Hanging out with my coworkers outside the office was strange. Not that I didn't want to get to meet them, it's just that... they were FBI agents. Sure, so was I, but it was my first official Supervisory Special Agent job, and I was only twenty-four. There were so many of my teenage days I still wasn't ready to let go. And so much of it, I didn't want them to know.

- "Sure!"- I replied and smiled at her face lighting up. You could tell Penelope was excited to host a party at her house.

- "Great! Tonight! my place! I'll text you the address! you have to be there!"

- "I will, I swear!"

Spencer's point of view

Oh, man! The first time I actually talked to (Y/N) was on a get-together Penelope organized at her apartment a few weeks after (Y/N) joined the team. Garcia made an effort to make her feel welcome, she even invited Elle, and we all knew those two weren't incredibly close.

Derek drove Elle and me to Penelope's, and I was mortified every minute I spent in that car. He wouldn't stop teasing me, and Elle asked over and over if I had a crush on (Y/N).

- "No! I don't have a crush on her! can you knock it off?!"- I finally snapped as I got off the car outside Garcia's building.

- "Just because she is my age doesn't mean I have or should have a crush on her! she is our new colleague! so please! Stop!"

I slammed the door and walked inside. Did I make an unnecessary scene? Yes, but I couldn't handle anything better at that moment. They were driving me crazy.

- "Welcome! Welcome!"- Penelope opened the door and invited us in. (Y/N), and JJ were already there, holding a beer and laughing. I stared at the two of them and knew I wasn't going to say a word the whole evening.

Back then, I still had a small crush on JJ. We had a terrible date after Gideon gave me tickets for a football game with her favorite team. That was his way to encourage me to ask her out, which I did... but apparently, I sucked at it, 'cos she never got it was a date and invited Penelope to come along. Worst date of my life. But still, I got flustered around her, and my mind kept coming back to her from time to time.

- "So, pretty girl, why did you want to be part of the FBI?"- Morgan asked her after a while of small talk. She was sitting on Garcia's coach, next to our host and JJ. I turned to look at her from my chair, and I swear I felt Elle's eyes on me for a few seconds.

- "Do you usually call girls names?"- (Y/N) answered the questions with another question and frowned at Morgan. He just wide opened his eyes and smiled, surprised.

- "He calls everybody names."- JJ replied, chuckling

- "Hey! he calls me sweet names! Just me!"- Penelope got all jealous and possessive right away.

- "Did you know according to some studies, the reason people in relationships use pet names for their partners is that they're harking back to their own childhood experience and their first love, which usually relates to their mother"- facts came out of my mouth faster than I noticed. I didn't have a chance to stop myself.

Derek frowned right away and (Y/N) bit her lips, trying not to laugh. Elle lost that fight and let out a burst of loud laughter along with JJ.

- "Are you trying to tell me I've got mommy issues, Reid?"

- "No, no, of course not!"- my voice was agitated as I shook my head and hands frenetically. If there's one thing I never want to do is get Morgan mad. He is scary when he is crossed, and back then, we weren't as close as we are now. Let's say I was a little afraid I might say the wrong thing. I always said the wrong thing... I don't know when to stop.

- "I call people pet-names too, once I get to know them, so don't worry"- (Y/N) smiled at turned to Derek with a smile- "And to answer your question, why did I join the FBI? I guess I tried to follow dad's steps. He is chief of police here at Quantico... and my older brother is a detective at NYPD, so... I guess I never really thought about it. I knew where I wanted to be."

- "I bet they are proud"- JJ smiled at her, and I held my breath for a second. I don't know why I did it; I just remember feeling overwhelmed all of a sudden. Not because of JJ, but because I wanted to learn more about (Y/N). I wanted to know everything, but I had no idea how to ask her anything.

- "Well, my brother is very jealous since I joined the BAU"- she chuckled with a playful smile- "Now I'm dad's favorite."

She told us about her academy experience, and we all told her a little bit about ourselves. Morgan was nice enough to tell her everything about my degrees and IQ because, well, my IQ dropped to twenty when it was my turn to talk to her.

I found out she has a MA in Linguistics and was considering doing the DA, which she did. That's when I managed to speak, and we talked about our college experiences for a while.

- "Oh, no! I wasn't popular at all. When your dad is a cop, kids usually don't wanna talk to you or invite you to parties."- she explained as we stood at one side of the room. Talking to her on our own was a little bit easier than doing it with everybody else watching. I don't know why. So I took my opportunity when Derek was out getting more beer with Elle, and JJ and Garcia were in the kitchen.

- "Being fourteen and riding my bike to college didn't make me very popular either."- I confessed, and she chuckled

- "Sorry."

- "Don't be"- I smiled and looked down at my shoes- "I guess at a certain point in our lives, we have to start laughing about some of the bad things that happened to us"- her cellphone rang that second, and she looked at the screen with a small smile.

- "Sorry, I have to answer this, it's my boyfriend."

Boyfriend. I should have seen it coming.

I walked to the kitchen, defeated, and sighed. I left my empty can of Coke and looked at my friends.

- "I think I'm gonna go home."

- "What? No! It's too early, Spence!!"- JJ argued right away- "You never want to hang out with us outside work!"

- "Yeah!! Don't you want to have fun with us?"- Garcia begged and pouted. I wasn't sure I wanted to be there. I was very uncomfortable 'cos social gatherings weren't my thing (they are still not my thing anyway) until I heard her voice.

- "So, what are you guys doing?"- (Y/N) walked over and stood next to me

- "Who were you talking to?"- Penelope asked right away with a wink.

- "My boyfriend"- she was joyful, I could feel the happiness in her voice- "He just wanted to know if I was ok."

- "Boyfriend?"- JJ smiled, and I could feel her eyes glance over me.

- "I need to know everything!"- and Penelope hyperventilated right away- "How long have you been dating? Are you getting married soon? Is he the love of your life?"

- "Who's getting married?"- Morgan walked in and wide opened his eyes as he questioned the room.

- "(Y/N) is getting married!!"- Penelope nearly shrieked as (Y/N) shook her head laughing.

- "I'm not getting married! Paul and I started dating just a month ago; it's nothing serious."

I took a sip of the beer Elle gave me and sighed, staring at the bottle. I made my best not to look at Derek for the rest of the night. I didn't want him to give me any sorry glance or anything that might make anyone believe something that wasn't real.

It was a fun night, after all. After my beer, we talked; I felt a little looser and managed to ask (Y/N) about herself and told her I had overheard her telling Garcia she was a sucker for all nerd things.

- "Yeah, I'm a huge nerd"- her cheeks blushed with her confession.

- "I bet you can't beat baby genius here"- Morgan chuckled and tapped in my back, making everybody laugh... at me.

- "I've got the feeling I can top him... you have no idea the kind of geek I am"- she looked straight at me- "How many Star Wars conventions have you been to this year?"

- "Just one, you?"- I raised an eyebrow and watched her chuckle.

- "Five... last two I was in make-up and custom"- I wide opened my eyes as she bit her lips nervously.

- "And Doctor Who conventions?"- I asked her, way more intrigued than I had been about her before.

- "Only two this year, the academy and school got in the way of most of my fun..."

- "Do you have a favorite doctor?"- I had to ask

- "From the new series, ten, the classic Doctor who I have to say four."

- "Tom Baker is by far my favorite doctor of the whole series."

- "But you can't overlook the fantastic job David Tennant has done! He is the one who managed to charm a whole new generation with the show!"

- "Yeah, he is excellent! but he ain't no Baker"- I loved that conversation

- "Baker's popularity is 80% because he had Sara Jane, who is by far one of the best companions the doctor has ever had. She made him human and relatable"- she had a point, but I needed to argue with her. I opened my mouth to answer, but I couldn't because Morgan's voice was louder than my thoughts.

- "Ok, geeks, you can ramble about your tv shows and nerd things some other time, now let's make a toast. To our newest member, we hope you feel welcome working with us, 'cos you are gonna see us way more than you see your boyfriend"- she chuckled at those words and nodded.

- "Thank you, guys. You have been so nice to me these couple of weeks. I've got the feeling we are gonna get along."

.

- "Do you need a ride?"- (Y/N) turned to me as I grabbed my satchel, and she put on her coat.

- "Thanks, but Morgan is gonna take me home."- I whispered, scared to be alone with her again.

- "Actually, kid, I was planning to hit the club right now, it's still early, and we don't get many free nights, so..."- he looked at us and shrugged.

- "You don't mind?"- I asked her, and she gave me the warmest smile.

- "I just offered to do it, of course, I don't mind at all."

- "Thank you."

I didn't know if I wanted to kill Morgan or thank him. Either way, (Y/N) waved goodbye to everybody and walked out of Garcia's with me, after thanking everybody for the hundredth time for everything.

- "Are you tired?"- she asked me as we both sat in her car. She started it, and the music that came from the radio was so loud, I nearly covered my ears- "Sorry! Sorry! I was rocking my favorite album on my way over."

She quickly turned off the radio and gave me a guilty smile

- "It happens when you drive alone a lot."

- "Did you know listening to loud music helps you liberate stress?"- I started rambling- "There is a direct connection between your inner ear and the pleasure centers in the brain. Shortly explained, when you listen to loud music, endorphins are released, that act on the opiate receptors in our brains, they reduce pain and boost pleasure, resulting in a feeling of well-being."

If I was going to work with her, I had to find a way to talk to her. Even if that way was to ramble facts over and over again. Anything was better than silences, I guess.

- "Yeah! and it also works like a stimulant, which I needed after the week we just had..."- I chuckled, and she looked at me for a second- "By the way, I noticed you have a problem with coffee and sugar"

- "I don't have a problem with coffee!"- I felt nearly judged by her statement.

- "And sugar!"- she added and snickered

- "You know you shouldn't profile other profilers"- I made my best to make a joke, and I guess I nailed it, 'cos she chuckled.

- "That's hardly profiling, Reid! that's just watching you prepare your coffee every morning"

- "Have you been spying on me?"- I could help but to chuckle at that conversation. I was having fun.

- "No way on earth! I just happen to like to drink coffee too, which leads us to the question I wanted to ask, it's still early; Morgan was right, do you want to have a coffee or something... I'm in the mood for something sweet."

- "And you were judging me for my coffee with extra sugar!"

- "I'm not judging you! I'm just pointing out that I noticed what you are doing and wondering how many cavities you already have."

I laughed. An honest, real, pure laughter. She has always made me laugh as I've never had. Like there are no problems, no worries, no traumas. Nothing bad.

- "I have no cavities, thank you very much!"

- "Fine! and are you in the mood for a late coffee and cupcake with me?"- I stayed quiet and looked at her- Don't feel pushed to do it just because I'm giving you a drive

- "No, no, it's not that. I just don't wanna bother you"

- "If I am inviting you, Reid, it's because I want to do it, not because I'm feeling forced to do it"- she kept her eyes on the road, but her voice was so reassuring I couldn't doubt a word.

- "Wouldn't your boyfriend get mad or something?"- I whispered the question 'cos I was scared of the answer.

- "Why should he?"- she looked shocked by the questions- "If he gets jealous, then he is not the guy for me."

I cut her a short smile and nodded. Her personality was so different from mine. It was exciting to have her around.

- "I could eat a donut"- and she clapped at my answer, thrilled with the plan.

- "That's the spirit! I know just the place!"

We talked until four in the morning that night. I don't know how I managed to do it, not because I was tired, but because I was very nervous. Well, I was at the beginning, but talking with (Y/N) has always come easy to me, somehow. To the guy who was never able to speak in public or with any girl, spending three hours in a cafeteria talking, eating donuts, and drinking coffee in the middle of the night was the most significant achievement.

.

(Y/N)'s point of view

- "How do you know a place open at this hour?"- Spencer asked me the very first time we were out together for coffee. It was already close to four in the morning, and I had started yawning, 'cos even with all the sugar and caffeine I had consumed that night, I was weary.

- "Sorry to break the news, doctor, but are not the only one with a sugar problem"- I licked a little frosting from my finger and grinned- "Sometimes after classes, or when I was too stressed studying, I would come here, get a coffee, a cupcake and just... do nothing for a while, just to let my brain rest I guess"

- "That makes total sense. The brain needs free time to process new information and turn it into something more permanent. Though the amount of time a mind needs to construct a durable memory probably varies from one person to the next, it also depends on the complexity of what that person is trying to learn"

- "Well, believe me, it felt like I needed two weeks to process all the information, but I only had half an hour if I was lucky"

- "Then you are already trained for this work. We don't have much time to do anything when we are on a case"

- "That's what I've seen so far... but at least you all get along. It would suck to be stuck in a team that fight egos and divisions."

- "Yeah, you are right, we are lucky to have very nice people working with us... everybody brings something different to the team"- I nodded at his words and looked down at my fingers as I tried to wipe the leftover sticky glazed with a napkin.

I had been working there for four weeks already, and I still felt like I didn't belong. Honestly, it was such hard work being there, not because they weren't a great team, but because it was more challenging than I ever imagined. Profiling and traveling all over the nation catching serial killers was... stressing, to say the least.

- "You bring a completely different point of view in every case"- he continued speaking and looked down at his cup- "And your knowledge in Linguistics adds more information to the profiles, which helps working faster and better."

I held my breath at his words. I knew he was just polite, just trying to make me feel better about my job performance these weeks.

- "I can assure you, you have been an incredible addition to the team"- he stayed quiet for a second, still just staring at his cup.

- "Thank you."

- "It's true; I'm not telling you this 'cos I think you need to hear it. I wanted you to know 'cos that's how we all feel."

I know I was blushing. I don't know how to take a compliment. Not that I get many, but it's always weird to hear someone telling you so nice things about your work.

- "Thank you, Spencer"- he finally looked at me and nodded. We stayed in silence for a few minutes. I didn't know what else to say, and he seemed to be embarrassed.

- "Thank you, actually"- he finally whispered.

- "Why? I didn't do anything"- I was confused, but he was earnest about his words.

- "Thank you, 'cos you have been very nice to me, even though I am a barely tolerable person."

- "What? Barely tolerable? What the hell are you saying?"

- "I mean, I know I drive people crazy 'cos I am always rambling and giving unnecessary facts all the time"- I narrowed my eyebrows, not getting why he was saying those things.

- "You do not do that."

- "Maybe you haven't been here long enough to realize I am always giving facts, and..."- he was honest. He actually believed people were annoyed by him. It hurt me to know that's what he thought of himself.

- "I realized that within the first three hours into the job, but I think that's amazing."

- "People would always say it's annoying."

- "Why would they say that?"

- "Because... I know they do."

- "Well, whoever says or thinks that are assholes, I like your rambling."

Reid snorted, and I hit his arm with my knuckles softly. I really felt bad he was so insecure, and most of all, he thought everybody hated him.

- "I mean it, Spencer, I wish I knew half the things you know, and if being with you means having to listen to your rambling, I think it's incredible, 'cos it gives me the chance to soak some of that knowledge."

The way he smiled, it was like his whole face lit up. He blushed, obviously embarrassed, and it also blushed me, 'cos he was gorgeous when he smiled.

- "So please, don't stop the facts, not with me"- he nodded and sipped what was left of his coffee.

After another few minutes, we left, and I drove him home. We were in a small sugar rush; we were too tired to have a full effect. I knew all I wanted was my bed and sleep the whole weekend.

- "I had a great time tonight"- I parked my car outside his building and smiled- "At Penelope's and with you"

I was so excited we had finally talked and gotten closer. I wanted to be friends with him so badly. Why? I don't know. I just knew I needed him in my life, from that minute on.

- "I had a great time too"- he smiled and held his satchel- "See you Monday"

- "Yeah! See ya!"

- "Drive safe!"

- "I will!"

I got home that night and laid on my bed, fully dressed. I barely took off my shoes and fell asleep right away. I was too tired to think, too tired even to put on my pajamas. But I wasn't too tired to remember Spencer's smile while he ate donuts. His dorky glasses, the way he gesticulated everything he said when he was excited about a subject. I was glad I had finally gotten to talk to him for once. And I couldn't wait to do it again.

Back then, Paul and I had just started dating. I wasn't in love with him, but he was a nice, funny guy I loved spending time with. I met Paul a couple of months ago at a friend's party. He was fun to be with, and we had a lot of things in common. We were both into music. He had a band, I didn't back then, but eventually got mine over time. He was like me, nothing like my friends at the BAU.

I thought that was cool, 'cos he represented a part of me I didn't want to lose working at the FBI. I was terrified I was going to lose myself in my new job. I saw how it affected dad's and my brother's life, how they were consumed by it in almost every single way. It was why my parents got divorced. It was why my brother couldn't keep a girlfriend for longer than a few months. 'Cos work was first, and their job was everything. The crazy hours, having to answer every call, no matter how busy you were. I thought it was sick how work could be your whole life. I was decided not to let it happen.

Yeah. I had no idea what I was getting into.

Soon after I joined the BAU, the nightmares began. I guess nothing prepares you to see so many people die. And nothing prepares you to kill someone, no matter if that someone is a child abuser.

I took the shoot, didn't even hesitate. It went right between his eyes. It was him or me, I know that. He was going to kill me. But still, it was hard.

Derek turned to me as I stayed still, in shock. It took me a few seconds to even breathe. I had just killed a person. It wasn't just some random thing.

- "(Y/N), are you ok?"- he landed a hand on my shoulder, and I quickly nodded.

- "Yeah, I'm ok... that was fast"- it was all I could say and turned to him. He gave me a short warm smile and wrapped an arm around me. I flinched at his touch right away and held my breath again. I don't know if he felt it, but still, he didn't let me go.

Derek has that thing when he doesn't care if you want it or no; he will give you his love and friendship when he feels you deserve it. I guess I'm lucky to call him my friend. And he really pushed that hug thing I still have.

- "Are you ok?- Spencer's voice was a sweet whisper. He sat carefully next to me in the jet and gave me a warm cup of tea- "I made you the one you like"

Of course, he had noticed my favorite brand, 'cos that's what Spencer does, he takes mental notes of everything and never, ever forgets. I wonder if that's a good thing or not. I guess it depends on what you remember.

- "Yeah, just tired"- working at the BAU, you can hide any kind of feeling behind the "I'm so tired" excuse. Mostly because we are indeed tired the whole time.

- "It was an extreme case"- I sipped my cup of tea and nodded at his words- "Do you..."

- "No, I'm ok, I don't wanna talk about it"- he bit his lips as he smiled. We both stayed quiet for a while. He read (somehow, at a relative normal peace), and I drank my tea. I couldn't concentrate on anything, so I just looked outside and tried not to think about the unsub's face and how he looked when I killed him.

- "How was your first time?"- I finally asked him, and I think my question caught him by surprise, 'cos he nearly jumped on his seat- "Not your first time in the sack, the first time you had to..."

- "No, I got it, I got it"- he was already blushing, it was adorable- "My first time was actually the first time you drove me home"

- "Really?"

- "Yeah"- he made a pause and gathered his thoughts, I guess- "I didn't really go out to the field a lot before 'cos I didn't have my firearm qualification"

And suddenly I remembered how embarrassed he was about it on my first day at the BAU. Derek made sure everybody knew about it 'cos he thought it was hilarious. And I thought he was a jerk for making fun of him.

- "And did it affect you?"- it was a stupid question. I knew Spencer was a sensitive person; of course, killing someone was going to affect him in many ways- "I mean, how did it affect you?"

- "I couldn't feel anything at first"

- "Shock?"- he nodded and sighed- "Gideon said that maybe I didn't know what I felt and that's why I thought I didn't feel a thing, but that wasn't it, it was like I was numbed inside... but then when it hits you"- he murmured- "And you can't stop thinking about it"

- "I think it hit me sooner than I thought"- I closed my eyes and sighed, but even then, I could feel those empty dead eyes staring at me.

- "Wanna know what helped me?"- Spencer's voice was velvety and soothing. It felt relaxing talking to him.

- "What?"- I whispered and turned to look at him

- "Remember two things: you did what you had to do"- I sighed at that with a small smile. It didn't sound like something I could believe at that moment.

- "And the second?"

- "A lot of kids are alive and safe because of you"

Now, that made me feel a lot better. Reid was right. I did what I had to do to help people. That guy wasn't going to stop.

- "Thanks"- I managed to give him a slight smile, and he did the same.

- "I'm here to talk if you want to"

It felt like he was really making an effort to say those words. I didn't know why it was still so hard for him to talk to me. Maybe it was still a sensitive subject for him, so I did what I do best: I joked about it.

- "Thank you... I'll try to avoid the issue as much as I can, but when I collapse under the pressure, I promise I'll come to you"- he chuckled at my answer and nodded right away.

- "Great plan."

And a few days later, I couldn't sleep anymore. I kept waking up to those eyes. I kept feeling guilty for killing a child abuser who was trying to kill me. I relived in my mind that moment over and over again.

- "Babe, come back to bed"- Paul found me sitting by the kitchen island staring at a herbal teacup at two am. It was my third insomnia night.

- "Yeah, I'll be right there"- he turned to walk back to the room but hesitated and looked at me again.

- "Do you want to talk about it?"- I shook my head, still not taking my eyes from the cup. He slowly walked to me and held my hand - "Come on, babe, everything looks worse at two am."

And he was right. Everything seemed to be worse when it came to my mind in the middle of the night. But it didn't get any better during the day either. He cuddled with me in my bed and fell asleep soon after. I just stayed there, feeling his chest moving softly with his soft breathing, thinking I had killed someone, and it wasn't going to be the last time I was going to face something like this.

.

Spencer's point of you

Do you want to know something sad? I was excited we had an unsub in New York 'cos I had never been there. Back then, I didn't know my colleagues were going to tease me about it. I didn't give it too much thought. I honestly wasn't good at leaving my house when we weren't in a case. Most of my traveling had been due to work, and other than La Vegas and Pasadena, I hadn't been to many cities just to sightsee.

Why am I thinking about that right now? 'cos we were in New York the day (Y/N) gave me her first gift.

Everybody had made fun of me during dinner because I didn't know how to eat with chopsticks. JJ tried to teach me, which also caused hours of Morgan's teasing for the rest of the trip. Thankfully, they dropped the jokes when we went back to the police station to take one last look at the profile after we got a call out unsub had killed a cop this time.

But after two hours of thinking, neither of us was honestly able to give any new idea to the case. Hotch insisted we head back to the hotel to have some rest. (Y/N) was one of the last ones to leave, along with Gideon and me.

- "Stop looking at the board"- she said, standing by my side, bag in hand- "Let's go. Your big brain needs to rest."

- "I won't be able to sleep knowing I'm missing something"- I answered, not taking my eyes from the board

- "Come on"- (Y/N) playfully hit my arm- "You need your eight hours of sleep to be a fully functional genius"

- "You should try to get a full night's sleep as well"- I turned to her and watched her eyes widen- "What? Do you think I didn't notice you haven't been sleeping?"

- "No, but I thought you were going to wait until I had a mental breakdown to force me to talk about it; that was the plan, right?"

I tried not to laugh, but it was hard; she is so funny, though I knew that was a sensitive subject, it had been weeks since the incident, and it was clear (Y/N) wasn't processing everything right. If anything, her jokes were a coping mechanism to avoid talking or even thinking about what had happened.

- "We can also talk about it, just... talk"

- "I know what happens with me, Reid"- she whispered and looked around. Gideon was outside, no way near us, but still, she kept her voice low. It made me see she was scared he would hear her, 'cos she didn't want him to think she was weak.

- "I guess I just have to make peace with it. It was gonna happen, and it will happen again, it's my job, it's part of what I do, end of it."

I looked at her and nodded in silence. There was so much I wanted to tell her, but I couldn't shake the thought she was going to laugh at me.

- "Do you want to?"- I made a pause and took a deep breath. Yes, I was very nervous- "Do you want to walk back to the hotel? it's just a few blocks and maybe... fresh air can help you relax?"

I didn't mean to hesitate so much, but it was scary for me to ask her to spend time on our own. I don't know why. It wasn't just with her; it happened with everybody at that point in my life. I was sure no one wanted to spend time with me. Why would they?

- "Can we have a midnight cupcake?"- she asked and smiled. I bit my lips and pretended to give the idea a lot of thinking, though I was craving donuts ever since we didn't have time for dessert at dinner.

- "Just one, and no coffee"

- "What are you? The sleeping police?"- she teased me and led the way. We waved at Gideon and walked outside the police station.

For a rainy night, it was freezing. But I didn't care much. I was too busy looking around, it was technically my first night out in New York, and though I was just leaving work and walking back to the hotel, it was the biggest adventure I have had there so far.

For the first couple of minutes, we walked in silence. (Y/N) looked at her feet, hands stuffed in her pocket as I walked next to her, holding my umbrella for the two of us. I tried to take in everything that was going on around us. It was exciting, being there, alone. I was a twenty-four-year-old Supervisory Special Agent of the FBI, and I was excited to walk with a friend in the New York city streets. No wonder why Morgan called me "kid."

- "Did you know more than 800 languages are spoken in New York City? that makes it the most linguistically diverse city in the world"- I had to start rambling facts after a while because I guess I couldn't help it.

- "Vraiment?"- she answered, and I chuckled. Of course, Master in Linguistics.

- "Oui"- I thought we could have a whole conversation in french; it would have been fun and fascinating, but my French was very rusty, and I didn't know if she was fluent or just learned a few things.

- "When I was a kid, I dreamt about living in New York. I was obsessed with it"- she kept looking down at her feet as she spoke, and I turned to look at her for a second. She looked sad somehow, or that's what I read from her. I've always done my best not to profile profilers. It's harder than you imagine.

- "Why?"- she chuckled at her thoughts and kept her eyes on her shoes.

- "You know how they always make you feel no matter how weird you might be, you are still going to fit in New York?"

- "You are not weird"- I couldn't help but frown and look at her- "You are..."

- "I am weird, we are all weird, that's what makes us great"

I loved that thought. That's why I've never forgotten it. Lie, I can't forget. I remember everything we've said to each other because I want to, not because I have an eidetic memory.

- "But when you are in school, everybody is trying to fit it and be normal, and that wasn't me at all..."

I didn't see that coming, and I have to admit it, I loved it. I often felt I was an outsider at the BAU. Hotch, Gideon, Morgan, Elle, JJ, they all fit in everywhere we'd go. Meanwhile, everybody looked at me, wondering what the hell am I doing there. I could read it on their faces. The fact the team had to introduce me as "Doctor Spencer Reid" is a sign they are making an effort to make me look older and more experienced. Reliable, even.

- "Why would you say you are weird?"- I had to ask- "You look very normal to me, I mean it"- she raised an eyebrow and didn't say a word. She just pulled my jacket and dragged me to a coffee shop.

- "Cupcakes, Reid, you can't expect me to tell you embarrassing facts about my life without a cup of coffee and a mountain of sugar."

JJ always said I ate like a kid, too many pastries and candy, no salad. Meanwhile, (Y/N) kept pushing sugar into my body. I liked that. They were both so different. JJ treated me like I didn't know how to deal with life. (Y/N) treated me like I could help her deal with life. JJ wanted to help me grow up. I could feel (Y/N) wanted to be my friend, and I loved that. I had never felt someone longing for my company. It was always the opposite. I usually felt people were stuck with me.

For months I kept comparing the two of them in my head. JJ had such condescending manners, it sometimes made me think she might actually have feelings for me. Other times, Morgan would call her my mom, which took all the hopes from my mind.

- "What do you do in your free time, Reid?"- (Y/N) sat in front of me in a booth. Right in between us, a table with two coffees, a red velvet cupcake, and a chocolate frosted donut with sprinkles.

- "I read, study..."- I didn't give much thought to my answers- "I also write a letter to my mom every day"

- "That's so cute"- I felt how my cheeks turned blood red, and she smiled at me sweetly.

- "Thanks..."- I sipped my hot cappuccino and winced as the coffee burned my tongue, and she chuckled.

- "Slowly, doc, or are you in a hurry?"

- "Definitely not, I have no other plan, I mean, I could sleep, but I know I won't, and, and I know you won't sleep either, so"- the words left my mouth at such a fast pace, not even I got them all. (Y/N) nodded and started taking apart her cupcake, little by little.

- "That's awesome, 'cos I like hanging out with you, and I don't feel like hanging out with Elle tonight. We are sharing rooms."

- "You don't like her?"- now that was breaking news- "I thought you two got along"

- "Don't get me wrong, I like her. I just don't feel like being the version of myself I am when I'm with her"

I looked at her, not sure of where she was going. She took a piece of cake and ate it slowly.

- "You lost me"- (Y/N) sighed and ran a finger around the edge of her cup.

- "Are you really you the whole time when you are at work, Reid?"

- "Well, yes?"- I wasn't sure that was the answer she wanted, but it was the only one I had- "I don't know how to be anybody else"

That was the whole truth. That's still the truth. Maybe that's why I have never been popular. People say I have no empathy, that I can't read any social cues. If I knew how to be someone else, I would probably try to change that and be a Spencer that's entirely sympathetic and social, like everybody else. But I can't force myself to act differently.

She stared at me, and I could feel the frustration piling behind her small smile.

- "Do you want to know something weird?"- her eyes shone as she stared into mines asking the question

- "Always"

- "You are the only person at the BAU I feel I can be myself with"- she whispered and sipped her coffee again.

- "Thanks?"- I was confused- "But... you are not that different with me than you are with the rest of the team"

- "Well, I am... I don't share who I really am at work because I am afraid"

- "Why? What scares you?"- she sighed and laid back on the seat. I kept my eyes fixated on her until she furrowed her brows, staring back at me

- "Are you trying to profile me, Spencer? 'cos we are not supposed to profile each other. I'm pretty sure it was in the contract I signed"- I smiled, busted, and nodded.

- "If it makes you feel any better, you are hard to read"

- "I'm a good liar, don't tell anyone"

She was proud of her answer, and I guess she should have been. You have to be an excellent liar to catch unsubs, get in their head, play with them when you have to make them talk. I guess she was ahead of me in that area.

- "Well, If it makes you feel better, I feel more comfortable around you than most of the team"

I closed my eyes as I spoke, and I knew my voice had been so low and soft, it hadn't been surprising if she hadn't been able to hear me, but she did.

- "Is it because I don't like touching people either?"- she joked, and a small smile stretched across my lips

- "It is because you"- I stopped and rearranged my thoughts. You could tell she was eager to hear the rest of my answer, and I was making sure not to make a fool out of myself.

- "It's because it feels you don't judge me for being me"

- "That's exactly how I feel, Spencer"- her smile was so big it made mine grow bigger as well.

- "But, why can't you be you with everybody?"- (Y/N) took a big bite of her cupcake, feeling more confident about our conversation and nodding.

- "Mmm, this is so damn good, you should try it, Reid"

- "Answer the question, (Y/N)"- I ignored her random comment and asked again- "Why can't you just be you?"

- "There are two answers to that question, and both of them are real"- she finally confessed and bit her lips, playing again with a little piece of cake on the dish.

- "I'm waiting"

- "You know, for someone who said has all the night off, you are indeed in a hurry now!"- she snickered and stuck out her tongue at me.

- "Fine, here's the truth: I don't want to share my whole real me at work because I am scared people will judge me and think I'm weird and too immature for the job, but at the same time, and this is the second reason, I don't wanna show my whole me at work 'cos I am afraid I'll lose it along the way, I am worried the FBI will take that weird part of me and will turn me into an SSA."

- "You are an S.S.A., (Y/N)"

- "I know, but I'm afraid I might end up being an ASS, Reid"

Her joke made me laugh so hard, tears fell down my cheeks. And she looked pleased to see me laughing.

- "See? That's me, the girl telling weird jokes the whole time 'cos can't stand a serious "grown-up" conversation. Can you imagine this (Y/N) talking with Hotch? Seriously, Reid, can you imagine?"

- "No, I can't"- I shook my head, still chuckling, and took a bit of my donut- "But I would definitely love to."

- "Do you want to know what I do in my free time?"- my mouth was still full, so I just nodded, feeling a little guilty I hadn't asked about her when she had asked about my hobbies.

- "I ride my longboard and play bass, do you think an SAA should be doing that? Do you think Elle does it? JJ? they are the perfect fit for the role. I am that kid at the back of the class who got a stroke of luck and managed to hang out with the cool kids"

- "Am I one of the cool kids?"- I had to ask

- "Yes, Reid, why?"

- "I've never been one of the cool kids before"- she gave me a severe look and sipped her coffee.

- "Here I am, pouring my heart and soul out for you, and all you care about is being one of the popular kids. That's being a lousy friend, Reid."

She was joking, and we both chuckled, but my chest tightened at her words, and the smile on my lips grew wider. She called me her friend for the first time that night.

- "I think you are overthinking this whole thing, (Y/N)"- she sighed at my words and finished her coffee- "We are all weird, you said it yourself"

- "Some on us more than other"

- "Yes, but that's what makes us great and unique. I told you, your vision brings a whole new point of view to the profiles, and I know what it's like to feel insecure people will judge you for being too young"

- "I know, that's why I'm glad you are here"

I am sure I was blushing, and I am absolutely certain she noticed because I heard her giggle as I looked down at my empty dish and fidgeted with my cup.

- "And... are"- I stuttered and narrowed my eyes. I knew I had to stop being so nervous around her; she was my friend, she had said it herself- "Are you ready to talk about your nightmares?"

- "Are you profiling I have nightmares?"- she raised an eyebrow and questioned my question

- "I am staring at the back rings under your eyes. It's clear you haven't been sleeping and considering we both know you went through a traumatic incident, to call it that way, you are clearly going through night terrors or nightmares"

- "Did you go through the same?"

- "Yes, I did"

- "And how did you overcome it?"

- "I haven't. I just made my peace with it"- you could read the deception on her face. That wasn't the answer she was waiting for.

- "They will be more sporadically, I promise, (Y/N)"

- "That's what's scares me too"

- "What?"

- "That one day I won't have the nightmares 'cos I'll be used to seeing the darkness and horror around me."

When we left the cafeteria, it was two in the morning, and the night was freezing. It was no longer raining, and the cold wind could freeze your skin in a second. (Y/N) looked at me as I shivered and opened her bag.

- "Here, put this on"- it was a purple scarf.

- "Thank you"- I was so cold I didn't hesitate. The wool was warm, soft, and it smelled like her- "It's pretty"- I felt I had to compliment it, 'cos she was too nice with me.

- "I made it myself"- you could tell she was proud. I tightened it around my neck and continued our way back to the hotel.

I hadn't felt I could count on someone at the FBI as I did with her. She wouldn't think I'm a kid; she wouldn't be forced to hang out with me. It felt pretty good to have a friend again. Ethan had been the last one I had lost. I always lose the people I love.

- "Thank you"- we were standing outside (Y/N)'s room back at the hotel. I took off the scarf and tried to give it back to her, but she didn't let me.

- "Keep, it's a present for being my first and best BAU friend"- I felt profoundly flattered, and I'm pretty sure I giggled, blushing- "Besides, purple looks good on you"

- "It's my favorite color"- I confessed- "And I'm not saying it just to make you feel good"

- "Then you have to keep it. It was made for you even when I didn't know it"- she smiled one more time and opened the door- "Good night, Reid."

- "Good night, (Y/N)."

----------

Series Masterlist

Chapter two

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[softboyluvr]

just friends

cedric diggory x female!reader

warnings: angst (ish???), intentional lower caps, that’s all tbh

very few could say they knew someone for forever, someone that knew their weaknesses and helped turn them into strengths. though they, they were the lucky ones. or unlucky ones, depending on who you asked. cedric and her had been inseparable the moment their parents introduced them when they were children.

from then on she always had someone to pick her up when she fell off the swings, a shoulder to cry on and someone who listened unconditionally when it seemed like the voices drowned her. she was lucky to have him.

she brought out the best in him. everyone expected him to be everything all the time, but with her he could be vulnerable. he felt like he could breathe when she was near. he had to see her fall in love with some of the guys in the castle, and then be there for her when it all fell through. he was just never that lucky to have her. at least not completely, she had the best of his moments. when in fourth year his friends teased him for never having had his first kiss she was the one to pull him in by his jersey after winning the first game of the quidditch season, the light drizzle sticking to their hair and making the whole thing seem like a dream to him. she had his first dance at their first ever ball. and most of all she had his heart hanging off a thread on her pinky finger, yet he was never lucky enough to have her completely.

he was resigned actually, no longer eager for the next time she came running to his arms after she realized the last guy wasn’t what she wanted, much less deserved. an eagerness that he knew was wrong and completely selfish but he couldn’t seem to deny. he liked being the guy that lit her those vanilla candles she loved so much and held her through the night.

he didn’t know what deity he had to thank for putting them together in every single class for the past six years. but there he was, letting her draw some sort of happy face kaleidoscope on his hand as he just looked at her with some stupid grin he could never wipe off when they were together. looking at how the tip of her tongue stuck out in concentration and then down to the crystal hanging around her neck. remembering how one saturday she just dragged him to the lake to look for crystals. one of the last days of the summer, the morning sun keeping them warm but not sticky with sweat. the wildflowers around them made the air sweet and the soft swishing of the water in the river filled up their comfortable silence making everything perfect. if he were asked what he thought heaven was like he would think that’s the closest it could ever get. or maybe it was all perfect because he was with her.

he wasn’t surprised when she had to bring him back from his daze and put him to work on the potion slughorn had just spent the last 10 minutes explaining. he was eager to finish brewing the concoction, amortentia was one of their biggest projects of the year. but that was not what motivated him to finish it, neither was it finding out what he was going to smell. he knew exactly what his heart desired, and was not surprised when he smelled vanilla, soft rain and wildflowers. his eagerness was to discover what she was going to describe the potion to smell like. he hoped her heart’s deepest desires pointed towards him like a compass pointing north. he was about to ask when hermione granger, somehow managing to take classes above her level, turned around and asked herself.

he pretended to write some notes on his notebook when he was really waiting for anything that would hint at her fancying him the way he wished she would.

“we must’ve fucked it up because it smells like nothing” and she snorted like it was the funniest thing ever. their conversation carried but he was no longer interested on any sort of gossip the griffindoor carried. he knew the potion had worked, so either she was sick and her nose was all messed up or just didn’t fancy anyone at all. she could’ve also been lying, was it for his sake? did she just not want to share any more fragments of her love life with him and she decided to lie about this to keep some secrecy? was it someone he knew? was it one of their friends? had he introduced her to them?

class ended and the day flew by, whenever she asked about his change in demeanor he brushed her off with a smile and assured her it was all fine, “just tired ‘s all”

he wanted to go down to his room and read, alone, as soon as the school day was over. but he had promised to go with her to this tree they always hung out in when the day was nice. she was talking about things she had noticed throughout the day and when he zoned back into the conversation their tree was closer than he realized and she was talking about potions class.

“i swear i was keeping an eye out for you. i was worried you were sick because someone had slipped some amortentia on your water or something. i mean im surprised no one did” and she sat down leaning on the trunk of the tree. “anyways you never did tell me what it was your heart’s deepest desires were. or who is it that that is for that matter” she was taking some colored pencils out and it seemed like the whole thing was humorous to her. but the question had struck him, she was lying back in class.

she had taken his silence as a cue to keep her chatter going. not paying any mind to how he still hadn’t sat down. “i heard someone say how when slughorn showed the class below us the potion just as a heads up for next year cho chang said she swore she smelled you. i didnt know you guys were that close” and she wiggled her eyebrows at him while taking out some sketch book from her bag. she was really trying to joke with him right now. “she’s really pretty-“

but he cut her off. “why would you lie?”

“i swear! hermione told me all about it after i ran onto her in the bathroom before potions class started. i mean you have been tutoring her for a while now so i don’t know how you didn’t see it coming”

he was silent for a second and she grew uncomfortable of his gaze just lingering. standing up as he started again.

“we didn’t fuck up the bloody potion. but you told granger we did, why did you lie?”

she looked at him for a couple seconds and then laughed. “come on ced, slughorn said the thing was perfect. don’t worry about the grade”

“this is not about a mark and you know it” his tone was so serious it was bordering into stern. it was like his patience was growing thin but she didn’t know what to say, so she just shrugged and looked away.

“didn’t feel like talking about it then”

“we can talk about it now”

“it looks like there’s rain clouds coming”

“what are you trying to avoid?”

she just went to pick up her book, stuffing her things back into her bag. she started the walk back to the castle making him scoff and follow her lead.

“why don’t you want to talk to me?” to her he still sounded defensive. but he was trying his best to mask his vulnerability.

“i do want to talk to you ced. just not about it right now”

“was it someone i know? was it fred? i heard he’s with angelina so that’s a dead end you know”

“cedric just drop it”

“so it was him then”

she groaned and turned to look at him, breaking her stride. her face was burning with what he saw as anger.

“why does it matter so badly to you cedric?”

the thunder quickly ate up the good weather they still had and the air turned chilly. how fitting.

“it just does and i want to know”

“it really doesn’t matter to me and it shouldn’t to you either” she was upset about it, maybe her feelings for fred were far deeper than he could guess. he was aware of their friendship, but he never knew how close they had grown to be. maybe him being a tutor pushed her to finding someone new, some new more interesting friend. “i really don’t get why you’re blowing this to be such a big deal when cho-“

“it is a big deal to me” he chuckled and he saw the drizzle before he could feel it. “it’s a big deal to me when all i could smell on the thing was wildflowers and fresh rain” he let a breath out, his voice lowering back to its usual tone. no longer exasperated but tired. “fresh rain and vanilla”

she just stood there. quiet. looking at him. a couple steps and he had broken the distance between them. placing his hands on her shoulders and running them down to her hands.

“so please, just please tell me what it was for you”

“lilacs” she looked up at him and met his gaze. the flowers his mother had planted around the swing sets were lilacs, the flowers she tucked on his suit pocket on their first dance were lilacs. but he still couldn’t let his heart jump to conclusions. she took in the silence and looked forward, staring at his chest rather than looking at him in the eyes. the blow was coming. “warm sheets and fresh rain”

she smiled at the irony of the drizzle that covered her hair at the moment and dared to peek at him from under her lashes. he was puzzled by the last one. she kept looking down at his hands holding hers.

“that was my first kiss too you know, you never really asked and i guess i never told you. but i knew you were tired of everyone teasing you for it so i guessed you wouldn’t mind as long as you got it over with” she was rambling and he smiled. the rain coating her lashes reminded him of the first time, he let go of her hand and took her chin between his pointer and thumb. tilting her head up to look at him, moving his hand to run through her hair and finally cupping her face. running his thumb over her cheek. it was like he was getting a do over, and he wanted to take his time this time around. she looked into his eyes and then glanced down to his lips. he didn’t waste more time before his other hand flew to the free side of her face and his lips were on hers. her hands on his shoulders pulling him impossibly closer to her.

he cursed his lungs for preventing him from staying there, causing him to pull away slightly. she opened her eyes to see him looking at her already. he took in how the water droplets stuck to her hair and the smile that danced on her face.

her eyebrows shot up a little “took you long enough” her teasing smile made him let out a loud laugh.

he hummed and nodded. feigning seriousness “maybe” he looked at her with a teasing smile of his own. “but not nearly as long as it took you, now did it”

her eyebrows shot up and she let out a surprised laugh. he admired her for a second more before he leaned down to kiss her again. missing how she quickly ducked and escaped his grasp. starting to sprint through the grass towards the castle. he chased behind her as they both laughed at the water splashing around their feet and starting to soak them up slowly. she looked back at him and playfully screamed, booking it through the courtyard and slipping past the few people that were still out enjoying the soft rain.

their friends quickly spotted the pair, not surprised by their behavior but intrigued as to what had caused the giant to chase after her through the rain. watching as he was catching up to her when she had almost reached the group, which was seated waiting for them next to one of the arches surrounding the courtyard. staying safe from the rain under the roof. they all playfully looked at her catching her breath, not amused at all by their games when he reached her. hair sticking to his forehead and robes drenched just like hers. she yelped as he picked her up and spun her around, their friends getting ready to listen to whatever story was behind their chase.

the story telling itself when he set her down softly and pulled her in for a quick kiss. their bubble of happiness not popping but encasing all of their friends as well. no questions were needed, the happiness just flowed and bubbled.

he swung his arm over her shoulders. pulling her into his chest as she started the conversation back up. everything had fallen into place for him, and now he could light up candles and tuck her into bed not because she had another unlucky shot at love. but because he was finally lucky enough.

[hoodieofholland]

Hi if possible could you write a image where the reader isn’t famous but is dating Tom, he goes lives on Instagram and starts letting fans join and ask him a questions. You get picked to join and both of you have to try and keep a straight face without giving it away.🙂 doesn’t have to be exactly this is obviously just whatever you feel like! Thank you💕

tom+instagram here we go :)

Hope you like it!!

Warnings: language, that's all :)

"What are you doing?”, you ask your boyfriend through the phone, pressed between your ears and shoulder, while you wandered around the house to get some tasks done. There were noises in the other side of the call, and you could distinguish Harrison’s voice.

“Nothin’, just setting things up for my live. Harrison’s been helping me, you know how I suck at this whole Instagram thing”, he explains, humming as he scrolled through his phone, you on speaker.

You giggle, “I know it pretty well. Think I’m gonna just take a rest and watch you struggling online”.

“Ha-ha, very funny, girlfriend”, he puffs, but you can almost hear his smile behind that sarcastic tone. “But I’d appreciate if you showed up. Who knows, I could just introduce you to all of my fans”.

You take in a sharp breath, contemplating if that was simply a joke or if there was a true desire behind that statement. You chew on your lips and keep silence.

The two of you have been in a relationship for almost one and half an year now, but you managed - only God knows how - to keep discreet about it, keeping it a secret. For his friends, Tom had an amazing girlfriend, whom everyone pretty much appreciated spending time with. For the rest of the world, Tom was a single, charmer and desired young Hollywood actor.

It wasn’t like he wanted to keep you his little secret. It was pretty much the opposite, actually. After your first six months together, Tom had tried to convince you to reveal your relationship, too tired of not being able to show off your love outside the comfort of his house. But you wasn’t willing to do that just yet. And after one and a half year, there you were, still afraid of how things might end up if you told them the truth.

You loved Tom, and you loved the fact the he was such a talented, hardworking man, but the fact that he was also a Hollywood star, known in the whole world, made you feel cornered. You didn’t want people to judge your relationship, to judge you or to give your relationship some kind of approval. You just wasn’t ready to give up your anonymity and become Tom Holland’s girlfriend.

Things were just perfect the way they were. You wanted it to stay like that for a little more time.

But you knew the day would eventually come. It was hard to not be spotted in the street with Tom by your side. You’d never show up in an event together, always making sure to only hold hands or show affection when behind four walls, only when you were pretty sure there was no paparazzi following him. You didn’t like that neither. You wanted to act normal, to have nice date nights with him, to walk outside in summer with Tessa. You just wanted to be who you were with him inside his or your house.

“I was- I was kidding, love”, he said sheepishly, and you could sense the nervousness on his voice, chuckling slightly to hide it from you. “It would be dumb, right?”

You swallow hard. “Uh- no. No, it’s fine. I mean, I’m not ready yet, but it’s alright. I know you were joking”. You curse yourself for being so dramatic about it, but you couldn’t help it. “So, when is it starting?”

“In about five minutes actually. I gotta go now, okay?”

“Yeah”, you smile tightly. “Okay, gonna watch here. Love ya”.

“Love you, darling”.

You both hang up and you sit on the edge of your bed, laying down and closing your eyes, puffing your cheeks out and rubbing your temples. “Damn it”.

Before you can call him back and tell him you were sorry over it, you sit properly on your bed and open your Instagram app, searching for him. After those exact five minutes, he was going live. You smile at the picture of him on your screen. He looked handsome, as always, but added up to the fact that he was far away, in Atlanta, while shooting Spider-Man 3.

You watch as he explains what he was going to do in his live, waving to Harrison right behind him, distracted on his own phone, saying that he was there as a support team. You laugh at how clueless he is. He starts to pick fans to join live and ask him questions. You were pretty surprised that he was allowed to do that, not giving away any spoiler, but he managed it after all.

You were having fun watching him struggle to say some usernames, and kinda surprised at how bold some comments on the bottom of your screen were. He’s single, remember?, you think to yourself and sigh frustrated. You could just go on and tell everybody, put an end to this whole situation during interviews, where Tom was always questioned about his love life and got uncomfortable about it, where you were upset for not being able to tell them to stop shipping him with girls he wasn't interested in, cause he was with you and you only.

But instead, you just sat there, watching your gorgeous boyfriend smiling sheepishly at the camera while a fan asked him about some photos that were taken of him and his co-star a while ago. He shrugged it off and told her they were just friends, but the comments made it very clear they weren't buying it.

"Alright, gonna pick another one, lemme see..."

You get yourself distracted by the concentrated face he put on, a small wrinkle between his brows, and then it happened.

All of a sudden, you see yourself on the screen, half of it filled with Tom's video, just like the previous fan. Your eyes go wide as soon as you realize you're going live with Tom.

"Shit!" He curse immediately, eyes bugging out and looking for something on his screen to take you out of it. "Sorry, I think I just tapped the wrong thing- fuck, how do I-?"

You're startled, looking at his agitated movements as he waves to Harrison desperately, and you try to think about what to do while being completely dumbfounded with the comments going on. Most of them were laughing at the fact that Tom kept being clueless with Instagram, but some of them actually commenting about you.

She's so pretty!!

Omg i think i saw her with tom somewhere

Is she the girl that was at the ffr set and no one new about??

You are about to close your app and leave them all behind, but you can't seem to be able to take your eyes off of the screen. A thought is stuck in your mind, where those people could actually know you, talk to you, and this shouldn't be so hard.

Tom wanted it. He wanted to show the world that you were his girl, wanted to go places with you and not need a whole scheme to protect you from camera lenses.

So instead of just stepping out of this, you decided to wave your hand at them, sit on your bed a little straighter and smile.

"Hey, Tom", you said, leaving it up to him if he wanted to say it now or not. He looked at you with wide eyes, Harrison by his side, a boyish smile plastered on his face.

"Hey, uh, y/u/n" he tried to play it cool, not so sure about what he wanted to do. "Nice user". And just like that, the two of you played along as two complete strangers for a whole ten minutes, until you said your goodbyes and Tom were left alone to end his live.

You felt incredibly happy with the nice comments and about how easy it was for you to make an appearance for the first time. It wasn't like you had just told them the truth, but it was something, and you felt more comfortable about it now.

Tom called you to a video call as soon as he ended the live, equally amazed by how this turned out. He apologized for bringing you to it, and you told him it was fine, that you even liked showing up.

"I think... I think that I'm ready", you said, biting your lips nervously. "I mean, if you are too".

He went silent for a few seconds before saying. "Wow. Really? Yeah, I mean, I'm more than ready. It doesn't have to be like an announcement, we could just, I don't know, go out and just wait till they-"

"Guys!" You heard Harrison shout somewhere in Tom's living room.

Tom turned his head to look at something Haz was showing and the blonde quickly made his way to appear on your screen.

On his phone there was a page with headline: Tom Holland goes live and fans spot his supposed girlfriend, y/n y/l/n.

Harrison scrolled through the page, where a lot of evidences of you and Tom being together were collected, when both of you were spotted in the same places at the same time or even one of you at Far From Home's set.

"Uh, so..." Tom twisted his nose. "I don't think we'll need to tell them anymore".

********

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[hannie-dul-set]

araw-araw [na jaemin]

(EVERY DAY)

part of “the puhon playlist” collection

SUMMARY | mahiwaga— someone or something that you’ll choose every single day no matter the circmstance. and for you, that was na jaemin. even if time decides to set you apart PAIRING | na jaemin x female! reader GENRE | childhood friends to lovers! au, college! au, romance, slow-ish burn, fluff, humor, tiny angst, biology major jaemin and art major mc HEHE WARNINGS | excessive swearing, insecurities, some sex jokes LMAO, i project a lot in this i’m sorry JSFJG WORD COUNT | 14.5k TAGLIST | @prettyjaems @lcvemark @shra-vasti @danishmiilk @probablygonnahurtsomebody @jccv @rebel-lious-alien @dalkomhanchocolateicecream @kthpurplesyou @fullsuhnshine​ @dejvns @nctzun @sweetjaemss @sehunniepot @wownajaemin @emoshishi @holywaterbetch @ukiyoneo @injunified @huangxx​ @jaehyunnie3​ @nct-writers​ @czennienet​ @neowritingsnet​ @kpopscape​

a/n: HERE IT IS.... MY PRIDE AND JOY JHSFJSD gahh okay i’m gonna keep my rambling to a minimum but this fic is very close and very dear to my heart and if it isn’t obvious that i’m in love with jaemin then this fic will make it obvious LMAO

also do yourself a favor and listen to ben&ben’s araw-araw on loop while reading this!! adds to the ~vibe~ hehe

Five-thirty-seven in the morning, grey clouds stretching throughout the sky as you peeked outside the window, falling right above oceans and buildings and people that you couldn’t even see. You sighed as you sank deeper into your chair, closing your eyes and adjusting your earbuds to clear your thoughts that were brought about by your sudden move.

You felt a nudge from beside you, coming from your mother (your dad was long knocked out since earlier), and so you politely pulled the earbuds away. “Excited to come back to Korea?” she asked. You simply responded with a smile and hum.

It wasn’t like you didn’t like the idea of returning— it was the prospect that it did not even feel like you were returning in the first place. Indifference was what you felt. After moving to Los Angeles when you were twelve because of your father’s job, you had to say goodbye to all your friends living in your hometown, all the traditions and customs that you were used to, and all the memories that you have built up in order to get used to a new environment. Seven years later when you thought you were just about to fit in with the west, your father comes out with the news of going back to Seoul again.

So it was difficult to manage a full smile.

You had a thought as you looked down through the window, recognizing a few of the landmarks that stood out: how strange it was to have somewhere that used to be home feel so foreign.

Just as you were about to put in your earbuds back in, your mother suddenly brightened, looking at you with a large smile on her face, eliciting your curious gaze.

“Oh! Do you still remember your old friend Jaemin?”

A smile tugged at your lips. How could you forget him?

Na Jaemin. Nana. Jaems. Your childhood best friend for six years until you were forcibly shipped all the way to LA. You still remembered how hesitant you were to tell him that you were moving because you didn’t want him to cry— only to have you crying and refusing to let go of him until your parent's pried you off of him at the airport. He assured you while wiping away your tears that you’d still get to see him one day.

Maybe that day would actually be one of these days.

“Yeah,” you mumbled, fiddling with the drawstrings of your jacket. “Why? I haven’t been in contact with him for years now.”

“His mom and I talked the other day and I told her that we’re moving back! And just earlier, she told me that Jaemin volunteered to pick us up from the airport so we won’t have to take a cab. Isn’t that great? You’d get to be reunited with your old friend again.”

“Ah,” you paused for a moment, in thought, just before pressing your lips together into a tight smile. “Yeah, it would be nice to see him again.”

That was what you said, but even until you left the plane, lugging your baggage across the cold floors of the airport with your music at full volume to drown out the noise, you were actually rather conflicted about meeting him again. A lot could happen within seven years, and therefore there was no assurance that things would still be the same. You weren’t sure if he’d still be the same sweet boy that was determined to fight the park swings after you fell and cried, if he’d still be the same kid that stopped talking to you for three days because you tricked him into eating a strawberry flavored lollipop. Maybe he’d still be, maybe he wouldn’t, but it was exactly that uncertainty that made you feel uneasy.

Still, there was still a hint of excitement, a string that tugged your heart away from all the uneasiness, just enough to bring a smile to your face at the thought of seeing him again.

“Y/N, let’s go?”

Your father called out to you and you didn’t even realize that you have actually stopped walking amidst your musings.

“Oh, yeah I—” you stumbled in between the ever moving airport crowd, looking down to see your shoelace had become undone, and so you let go of your suitcase. “You two go ahead, I’ll catch up in a sec!”

You ducked down, right beside the large, grey case to fix it, lips pursed in concentration. People passed by without minding you too much, but at one instance, just as you had finished retying your shoelace, your suitcase moved away from you with a shadow looming from above. Panic struck, and so you jolted up, instincts forcing your hand to move, quickly grabbing the handle. There was another hand resting on it. Your eyes moved up to meet with the culprit's.

Weirdly enough, he was just as shocked as you are.

Even weirder— he looked way, way too attractive to be a thief. Or maybe that was the modus these days? Still, you harshly dragged back the suitcase, ripping it away from his grasp with a glare. “What the fuck—”

At that moment, you recalled your mother’s words. Jaemin volunteered to pick us up from the airport. This guy looked a little too much like your old friend from your old neighborhood.

It felt like you were looking into the exact same large, dark eyes that used to be always accompanied by a pretty smile, now matched by a mouth hanging slightly agape from surprise. He even had the same dark hair that always messily fell over his eyes. There was a moment of pause in between the rush of bodies, the both of you in a frozen trance staring at each other until you had finally realized that motherfucker— this was Na Jaemin.

When did he get so hot?

“I—”

He flashed you a smile. The same damned smile. It brought you to the conclusion that seven years really didn’t do anything except make him far too attractive for his own good. All of a sudden you felt self-conscious about your own appearance as you gawked at him. God really liked to play favorites, huh?

You could see him say something, his lips moving just enough to represent a few words, but it was muffled thanks to the blaring music. Your confusion reflected clearly on your face contorting, and Jaemin only shook his head and laughed before reaching his hands to your face, bringing you to a momentary halt of haywire because what the actual fuck was he doing.

“You shouldn’t listen to music too loudly in public,” he said, pulling your earbuds out of your ears and gingerly placing them into your open palms with a smile. Holy fuck, his voice got so deep. “I’ve been calling out to you since earlier, but you couldn’t hear. Let’s go, your parents are waiting.”

Before you could even try to recollect yourself from the sudden crashing of events, Jaemin took your suitcase in your stead, leading you to his car.

If you still weren’t sure whether or not this was Na Jaemin from your past, you were now because although a bit watered down, he was just as excessively weird and sweet as he was ages ago. You found yourself feeling stupid for even doubting it in the first place. Of course, he was still the same; he even chirps your name in the same way as he always did before.

“There we go,” with a huff, the trunk came to a close. He threw your suitcase in there after seeing your mini struggle episode with far too little effort for your peace of mind. “You should just ask me next time. Okay, Y/N?”

“Thanks,” you gave him a small nod, flustered when he pinched your left cheek while making a questionable noise, and he opened the car door for you to enter.

Maybe it was you that had changed.

You were fairly quiet throughout the car ride while your parents and Jaemin decided to catch up after everything, only listening and giving your reactions whenever needed. You weren’t a morning person and your jetlag wasn’t doing you of any help either.

“You’re in your third year, right Jaemin?” your father asked, sitting at the front seat as your mother and you sat behind.

“Yep, yep,” he happily replied.

“Time really does fly fast, doesn’t it?” your mother joined in. “What uni do you go to, Jaemin?”

“Ah,” he sounded, eyes still directed on the road. “NCT U. It’s the closest at home, and I didn’t really wanna move out.”

“Oh, what a coincidence! Y/N isn’t that where you’re planning on going, too?”

“Really?” you could see Jaemin’s eyes brighten from the mirrors. “Y/N, do you want me to help you with your requirements? Have you enrolled already? I can give you a tour if you want!”

He’s really the same. You thought, smiling. “It’s fine, Jaemin. I already enrolled and took care of everything online.”

“But I should still tour you, though!” he retorted, the pout and whine evident in his voice. “The campus is really big so you might get lost. Ah, but aren’t universities in the States much bigger? I can also introduce you to some of my friends if you like.”

Jaemin went on for a while, telling your parents not to worry and promising that he’d take care of you throughout your college life here in Korea despite your protests that you could very much take care of your own self. Eventually, your mother asked about his major, and his animated expressions dimmed down into a slight bashfulness after answering that he was taking biology. You joined the conversation upon hearing that. “You said back then that you wanted to be a surgeon, right?”

With a shy smile, he nodded, and at that moment you felt a rush of awe for your childhood friend. Your parents seemed to have reacted the same way seeing as he was growing a little more embarrassed. It was amazing how he held on to the same dream he held since he was a kid— the amount of passion and dedication he must have for it. You on the other hand—

“What about you, Y/N?”

You jumped at the sudden subject switch. “Oh, I’m—” a pause in your statement. “I’m��� taking an arts course.”

“Wow! As expected, Y/N is as cool as always,” he doted, which caused you to flush.

“It’s— it’s not really that amazing, it’s just the only thing I’m kinda good at so—”

“No, no, no. Y/N, you shouldn’t say that,” he scolded, clicking his tongue while his hands remained on the wheel. Your mother was beside you yet he was the one doing the mom nagging. “Who is that again? Bob Ross? Leonardo DiCaprio? You’re gonna be much much much better than them someday, I just know it! I have something called Nana vision, you know.”

You stifled a quiet laugh, not having the heart to correct him that it was not DiCaprio. “Does your Nana vision also see that we’re already almost at the complex?”

“Oh!”

At your words, Jaemin’s attention was now a hundred percent back on driving, profusely apologizing for getting distracted. You could see his ears slightly reddening from your seat which lasted until the end of the drive. Jaemin helped your family carry everything to your apartment on the eighth floor, even volunteering to help you unpack. Your mother firmly declined, however, insisting him to take a rest after all his help, but she did invite him and his parents over for dinner tomorrow. A little reunion of sorts.

“Six in the evening, right?”

“Yes. You should head back home now, Jaemin. Thank you for everything.”

He shot a bright smile before readying to march outside. “We’ll be here by five!”

She laughed at him, shaking her head, and proceeded to look for you inside the mess of the living room. You were about to disappear inside your room, luggage in hand to unpack, but she quickly dragged you back by the ear. “Go see him out the door!” she whisper-yelled, and so you did. Fortunately, he was stopped by your father before he got to leave, so you took this opportunity to smoothly stride beside him as he slipped past the door when he said goodbye. The door clicked to a close. He raised a brow at you.

“Mother’s orders,” you answered.

“So you wouldn’t have gone out if she didn’t tell you to?” he huffed, pouting. “And I was really happy to see you, too. I think I might have to take that back.”

You rolled your eyes at him, laughing, and eventually you made it to the end of the hallway. “Too late. You can’t take back your happiness. It’s good to see you again, Jaemin.”

The both of you stopped right in front of the elevator, and you waited for him to depart, but he didn’t. He had his arms crossed over his chest, accompanied by an expression on his face that you couldn’t quite tell if it was hurt, disappointment, or offense. Probably all three. Definitely all three.

“What? are you putting up a wall between us? Don’t I mean anything to you anymore?” he groused, nose scrunching. “What happened to Jaems? Nana? Y/N, you’re seriously hurting me over here.”

Laughing at the way he was sticking his frown right into your face to prove his point, you playfully shoved him off, pushing him into the elevator after all of his complaints even though he was the one moving his feet, anyway. You missed him, that much you could conclude, therefore you decided to stop his whining just before the elevator doors came to a close.

“See you tomorrow, Nana.”

You grinned, not missing the way his eyes lit up in between the small gap. You really did miss him, and you were lucky enough to have him as a small memory to remind you that this place was indeed home.

Maybe it wasn’t just Jaemin that you had missed. The entire family was just a smack in the face of early childhood nostalgia that you nearly cried (thank god you didn’t) when Mrs. Na buried you into a bone crushing hug the moment she saw you when you opened the door. You were really happy to be back— even when you weren’t exactly sure before.

“Mom, I think you’re suffocating, Y/N,” Jaemin pointed out as he left his shoes in front of your doorstep, walking inside with his father following behind him.

“Oh my, I’m so sorry, Y/N. I just couldn’t believe that this is you!” she coddled, and somewhere in between Jaemin found himself beside you. “I think I have pictures of you two when you were younger, hold on—”

Mrs. Na was pushed forward by her husband as she dug through her phone for a decade old Facebook posts of you and Jaemin (you hoped she wouldn’t remember you had an entire album). The older man ruffled your hair as he passed by with a fond smile, disappearing into the dining table where your parents were preparing and leaving you and Jaemin behind.

He was looking at you. Questionably so.

“What?”

“It’s not fair,” he whined. “I didn’t get to hug you yesterday.”

Oh my god, you shook your head, grabbing the sleeve of his mint jacket and leading him to where your parents were to help. “You’ll have more opportunities, you loser. It’s not like I’m going anywhere.”

Jaemin was speechless for a moment as he let you drag him along, but a happy smile broke through and he matched your steps halfway.

“Yeah,” he agreed. You weren’t going anywhere.

Dinner followed the usual sequence of events: reminiscing about the past, asking both parties what they have been up to, and of course talks about the future. During the meal, Jaemin asked when your classes were starting (next week), and he proposed his promised tour to be held this Tuesday— two days from now— because he didn’t have a lot of classes that day. He wouldn’t take no for an answer, neither did your parents, so you ended up agreeing.

Unfortunately for you, your mother pulled out the ancient photo album of the past right after dinner, and the stark contrast between yours and Jaemin’s reactions were also album worthy. By the end of it, you were sure that smoke was emitting from your ears because your good friend had an affinity with screaming over how cute you were, even going as far as stealing one of your baby pictures right before they decided to make their leave.

“Ah, ah,” he pulled the photo away the moment he sensed your attempt of theft. You two were standing right in front of the open door, his parents already having left ahead. “I’m keeping this. You look so cute here.”

“How am I so sure you won’t blackmail me with that!”

An offended gasp. “I would never,” he took out his phone, inserting your picture inside his colored phone case with you watching his every move. “It’s for me to see only, so you don’t need to worry.”

You looked at him. Then to the phone that he was holding up with a confident smile. You let out a sigh.

“Fine,” you begrudgingly relented, and he waddled over to you with a big smile on his face to envelop you into a hug. He smells nice, you thought, reciprocating the embrace. Wait, isn’t this my perfume? That would explain what he was doing inside your room earlier. You could only sigh inwardly let him keep on hugging you. He was whining about it earlier, after all.

It lasted long, maybe a bit too long because his dad came back to fetch him.

“Mhm, you can trust me with anything, Y/N,” Jaemin mumbled before finally pulling away, his hands still resting on your shoulders as he did. “Anyway, before I go— should we exchange phone numbers?”

Tuesday came by, and you were met with two realizations. Both of which made you feel very very small in comparison.

One, NCT U was really freaking big.

Two, Na Jaemin was really freaking popular.

Granted, he had only shown you around the STEM department, but with every turn that you took and every hallway that you passed through, there was least one person that stopped by to say hi to him. Even some of the teachers were close with him. You should have expected it considering he was literally nice, smart, handsome, and everything you could ever ask for, but it still made him feel just a tiny bit out of reach.

“Are you feeling tired?” he asked, breaking away from a conversation with a senior. He put a hand over your shoulder with concern that reflected in his eyes. “We can take a break around the benches if you want.”

“Yeah, sure. After you—”

“I’ll talk to you later, hyung. See you around.”

Jaemin waved off his older friend, Yuta, you had overheard, and proceeded to lead you to the aforementioned area on the ground floor before stopping by a vending machine to get some drinks. You pressed your lips together, feet shuffling as you waited behind him, and then you finally decided to speak. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Do what?” he asked, slotting in a few coins into the machine.

“You— you with your friend,” you fumbled, trying your best to speak your mind, but how were you supposed to say ‘cut your conversation short with your friend because of me’ without seeming like a total headass? You could have waited until they were finished.

With a soft smile, he passed a canned, carbonated drink into your hands— lemon, you read— and took one for himself. He didn’t answer your incomprehensible question and decided to walk across the field leading to a bench area, but you were sure he got what you were trying to say. He simply chose not to answer. Or did he? Hell, you didn’t even know anymore. Annoyed, you decided to gulp down the drink in one go to distract yourself, even when the bubbles stung your throat. Jaemin stared at you in horror.

“Were you that thirsty? You should have told—”

“Na Jaemin!”

In sync, your heads snapped towards the direction of the ear-ripping screech, which was quite coincidentally where you two were headed. There were two boys sitting on a bench, one more on the table with a guitar. You assumed that it was one of them that screamed out your friend’s name— probably the one that was making eye contact with him before dramatically turning away with a butchered sob.

“Na Jaemin! Traitor of the brotherhood! I remember when he would still come running the moment I call his name but now— forgotten for dust! He doesn’t care about us anymore, Renjun. He even has a new—”

“What are you on about this time, Haechan?”

Haechan’s evidently fake sobbing stopped, pushing away the boy that he had just been crying into moments prior. “Oh you’re here,” he deadpanned.

It was almost horrific how three pairs of eyes immediately zeroed in on you as you meekly hid behind Jaemin, causing the hairs at the back of your neck to stand as if you were about to die in a fucking horror movie. You could tell from that alone that despite having many friends, these guys were probably his closest— whether it was better or worse, you had no idea. All of a sudden you were dawned with the intimidating task of trying to get them to like you, which was already way too out of reach because the one with the guitar was practically ripping you to shreds with his eyes alone.

“Please stop trying to scare, Y/N. Jeno, you might actually make her cry, stop that.”

“Whoops,” Jeno stopped his death staring. “Hyuck initiated it.”

“Actually it was Renjun, but whatever,” before Renjun could even bite back after being falsely accused, Haechan had already blocked him off and had directed his attention towards you, legs crossed and a critical gaze. “Fuck formalities. Y/N, right? Who are you and why are you trying to steal—”

“Alright, no more scare tactics. Y/N, there are my friends, Jeno, Haechan— or Donghyuck, whichever you prefer, he doesn’t mind— and Renjun. They’re just trying to mess with you, don’t worry. Friends, this Y/N L/N, my childhood friend for like four, five years before she left Korea and moved to LA.”

The term childhood friend lit a spark within the three boys, but before they could do or say anything dangerous that would jeopardize your relationship, Jaemin the ever popular boy was called out by a group of girls. He excused himself to leave for a moment, but not before apologizing to you a million times over (“If you’re really sorry,” Renjun chided before he ran off. “Treat us and Miss Y/N to Kun’s, yeah?”). He agreed without even hearing him properly, and now you were left with his three friends that felt more like three sharks that circled around you. They were fucking out for blood.

“So,” the moment Jaemin disappeared from the parameter, Haechan pulled you to the bench in between him and Renjun with a devilish grin. “Childhood friend, huh?”

Your eyes snapped over to Renjun who was on your right to ask for a way out of this, but the guy was busy filming the entire thing on his phone. Why did Jaemin leave you behind? You had no chance of escaping. Haechan locked you down by swinging his arm around your neck just as you were about to stand. He signalled at his friend who was sitting on the table. “Jeno, drop the beat.”

There was a moment of miscommunication in between because instead of dropping the beat like Haechan asked, Jeno started strumming a sickeningly sweet tune on his guitar. Or maybe that was what he intended. Either way, Haechan was flexible enough to go along with it.

“You know what they say about childhood friends,” another strum. Haechan sang. Was this a fucking oration? “You either end up forgetting each other, hating each other, or you end up toge—”

“That is not—”

“Hush!” he silenced. Renjun was losing it at the side. So was Jeno, because the guitar tune was long replaced by fits of strangled laughter. “It is, clueless Y/N. It is. How many childhood friends have you met that stayed as childhood friends? None, I assume. I’m never wrong, you see.”

“Weren’t you and Mark childhood friends, too—”

“Shut the fuck up, Huang. This isn’t about me. Y/N, listen.”

Grabbing your shoulders, Haechan pulled you away from Renjun, the sudden movement nearly giving you a whiplash.

“From my expert calculations, you and Jaemin are undeniably going down route three, but the both of you are moving at an agonizingly slow pace, correct?” you stared at him, wide eyed, and he was staring right back. “Correct! Now, in order to speed things up a bit, all you have to do is follow Hyuck’s five step guide on How To Trap Your Childhood Friend Into—”

“Isn’t this the same guide that ruined your—”

“I said shut the fuck up!”

The two ended up quarrelling and you ended up being forgotten. You weren’t sure whether to be thankful or be offended. Jeno shot you a look of remorse on behalf of his friends, bringing you to the conclusion that this must have been a normal occurrence. Your eyes shot towards the sky, clouds covering the sun just enough so you wouldn’t be blinded, ears picking up the argument occuring that went back and forth on both of your sides. They’re a lively bunch, you breathed out, a subtle smile on your face.

Eventually Jaemin showed his face again, jogging over to your group and you greeted him with a beaming grin. “You guys seem to be getting along,” he said the moment he stopped before you.

“Oh, Romeo returns,” Renjun decided to stop picking a fight with Haechan. “Where’d you get dragged off to this time?”

There was silence, all four sets of eyes heavily sparked with curiosity as you waited for Jaemin’s response, but the boy was rather hesitant. “Well—” he fumbled, a faint baby pink blush powdering his cheeks. Sheepish, he continued. “Someone confessed to me.”

The first person that reacted was Jeno, who released a loud snort and scooted a little more forward. “Shouldn’t you be used to it by now?” Jaemin indignantly refuted as he continued to be teased by the other two boys, the remaining uncharacteristically not joining in. At that very moment you could feel Haechan looking at you, a gaze that you couldn’t quite put a finger on but it was enough to shoot him a glare back.

“Who was it? Is she pretty?” you chose to ignore the annoying male beside you and decide to focus all of your interest and attention on Jaemin instead.

“Jiah,” he mindlessly answered, pushing Haechan to the side so he could sit next to you. “From nursing? I think?”

“Dude,” you turned your head to Renjun. “Kang Jiah? Holy shit, that’s crazy.”

Noticing the lost look in your eyes, Renjun proceeded to explain that not only was the alluded Kang Jiah arguably the prettiest in her department, she was at the top of her class too. You didn’t understand which part about that was crazy because for you, that was exactly the kind of person that Jaemin was destined to end up with. You wouldn’t be surprised if they do become a thing— well, there was only one way to find the answer to that.

“Well, what did you say? You said yes right?” you asked him, looking forward to his answer.

“Oh,” he shrugged. “I turned her down.”

What?

“Of course,” Renjun scoffed, shaking head with his arms crossed. “Only you would turn someone like Jiah down. At this rate you’ll end up dying an old hermit.”

“You have a crush on her or something?”

“Pff— no? I just think she’s pretty,”

“You’re not fooling anyone, dumbass. Come over here, I’m gonna squeeze it out of you—”

While the two quarrelled again in the middle of the field with Jeno being the one filming this time, you remained frozen in your seat, somewhat surprised. Huh, you blinked, wanting to ask him why he turned her down but frankly it was none of your business. You turned your head to face him. “Wow, I didn’t expect you to turn into such a heartbreaker, Jaems.”

He clicked his tongue, face scrunched into a bitter look of disapproval as reached out to mess up your hair. “Stop thinking weird thoughts,” he scolded. “Instead, why don’t I finally take you to the art building?”

Your eyes immediately lit up after the mention, and he stifled a laugh at your reaction, patting your head once more before sneaking off without the other three’s knowledge.

Jaemin’s tour of the whole campus actually deemed to be pretty useful because after three whole weeks of going to NCT U, you’d only gotten lost seven times— pretty remarkable if you do say so yourself. Within those three weeks, you had actually expected that your old childhood friend would leave you off on your own once you got used to everything, but no. He tried his best to meet you in between classes even though your buildings were nowhere near each other, and the times when he couldn’t, he’d never failed to call or text you. “I promised your parents!” he reasoned, but you weren’t sure if that promise included asking you if you’ve eaten breakfast every morning.

“Breakfast?”

You repeated into the phone as you and your recently made friend Soorim walked to your Visual Studies class. You’d met her during your first week and the both of you immediately hit off. It was nice to have someone else other than Jaemin and his friends, but of course you appreciated their company, too.

“I, uh, actually haven’t eaten— no wait! Before you nag me, I have a valid excuse, okay!” Soorim gave you a sidelong glance, curious and suspicious over your loud phone call so she tried to lean her ear closer to the device but you quickly evaded without even looking at her. “Listen, I was in a hurry to school! I actually planned on grabbing a bite on the way but I… forgot my wallet because again, I was in a hurry and— no, shut up, you don’t have the right to scold me for this, too! You literally left your report at home yesterday and I had to walk all the way back to save your butt so you’re no better, Mr. Na.”

Without even realizing, you were already in front of the doors to your classroom, and so you hurried a goodbye to Jaemin just before you and Soorim took your seats at the near back.

“Alright, I’m in the classroom now. See you later. Yes, I’ll eat after, yes, I promise to double check my wallet from now on. Bye.”

The moment you settled on your seat, setting your phone and backpack aside, Soorim swiveled her chair to face you, legs crossed, hands resting with poise on her thigh, and she batted her eyelashes expectantly. You ignored her, twisting open your water bottle because it was the only thing you had that could somewhat silence your crying stomach.

“So,” she started anyway. The bottle opening was hovering over your lips. You narrowed your eyes at her. What the fuck was she doing. “When are you introducing me to your boyfriend?”

You choked while drinking.

“Boy— what,” with a grimace, you ripped away the bottle from your face, slamming it down on the table. You looked at your friend in disgust. “If I had one I wouldn’t be hanging out with you.”

Soorim rolled her eyes, sneering at you. She held up her hand to the side of her face, all fingers closed except for her pinky and her thumb, shaking it a little. You sighed.

“He’s a friend.”

“The same friend that kept on calling you during our night out because he was worried?”

“Yes, well,” your sweat dropped. “He’s just like that, you know?”

“Sure,” she scrunched her nose, haphazardly throwing her giant notebook on the table. There was a brief moment of quiet that overtook because Soorim decided to stop egging on you as you waited for your professor, but that quiet only lasted for a while. She nudged you, and you looked up from your desk. “Oh, look who's coming.”

Huang Renjun sauntered in with an expression not fitting for a “good morning” greeting, so you chose to remain silent and simply stare at him in judgment as he settled right before you and Soorim, plastic bag in hand and binder in the other. What shat in his coffee this early in the morning?

“This is all your fault,” with a grunt, he dropped the bag filled with all sorts of food and snacks right in front of you, immediately pulling out a chair and sitting his ass onto it after. “My plans of turning up late are ruined because of you.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, picking out a small container of strawberry milk from the bunch. How was this your fault? Furthermore, what exactly was all of this?

“Ooh, you making moves on Y/N, Huang?” Soorim, on the other hand, was digging into the rest of the goods, stealing a bun filled with red bean paste with a happy smile.

“Ew, as if.”

Renjun fake gagged, earning a look of offense from you which he completely ignored and disregarded. He took a box of pepero from the pile, shooting you a smug look before adding.

“It’s from Nana.”

(“You’re at school already? It’s very early. You’ve eaten breakfast, right?”

At a convenience store nearby the school, Jaemin and Renjun decided to eat their first meal there. Though, it appeared that the latter was the only one doing all the eating because his friend seemed to be far too preoccupied with his conversation on the phone to even notice that he took some of his sushi right in front of his face. Renjun silently chewed as he watched the colors on his friend’s face change at each sentence.

“Aish, it’s the most important meal of the day for a reason. How many times do I have to tell you—”

Another piece of sushi stolen. He wondered how far he could get away with it.

“Y/N, I—”

Jaemin let out a long sigh, causing Renjun to drop the food back onto the plate, retracting his chopsticks back to his own food— a bowl of ramen noodles that he had still yet to finish. He discreetly slurped it down as if he hadn’t been stealing since earlier. He was sure that Jaemin noticed though, but knowing his friend, he probably just let him. Renjun noticed the small pout on Jaemin, eliciting his curiosity.

“Okay,” he’s whining, Renjun concluded. “See you later.”

The moment Jaemin shut off his phone, Renjun expected him to say something, to air out why the fuck he was being all that this early in the morning, maybe even tell him what the call was about like a friend would, but no. Instead, Jaemin promptly stood up from his seat, disappeared into the limited selection of isles in the store, basket in hand, and started throwing a mountain full of food with a scrunched out, concentrated expression. Renjun had his mouth hanging open, brows knitted together, and wondering what in the ever loving fuck was going on with his friend as he stared at him pay for everything at the counter.

He sat back, eyeing Jaemin as he returned in front of him, who placed the full bag on top of the table as he took a seat.

“The hell?” a particular carton caught Renjun’s eye, and he immediately fished for it in primal disbelief. “Strawberry milk? You literally hate strawberries and milk separately yet you’re buying them combined? Are you sick?”

Jaemin did not answer. In fact, he dismissed the question completely with a smile, deciding to ask one of his own.

“It’s almost time for your first class, right? Visual Studies?”

At that point it hit him— the call, the food, the stupid behavior of his friend. It was completely obvious.

“Oh,” Renjun dropped the drink back onto the table. “Oh my god, you’re so fucking whipped.”)

“Shut up.”

After hearing Renjun’s story, you couldn’t look at all the multicolored snacks laid in front of you without heating up a million degrees anymore. It was ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous.

“You’re just messing with me, shut up.”

Renjun scoffed. “Why would I even make up something so stupid? C’mon, Y/N. You know I’m way better than that.”

You couldn’t argue that this wasn’t something Jaemin would do. No, because this was exactly something sickly sweet Jaemin would do and your sad attempt of denial was simply because your heart might actually run away if you admit it to yourself. And as if to give you more assurance or to fluster you even further, your phone vibrated, causing you to jump in your seat. Before either of the two’s nosiness could take a peek, you quickly snatched your phone, leaning your chair all the way back to read the message.

[<nana3: never skip breakfast okok?!? u don’t have your wallet right? wait for me in front of the bio building later. let’s eat lunch together 🥰💚]

Dear lord Jesus, have mercy on your soul. Renjun took your squeak as a sign of victory.

“Wait a minute,” Soorim looked at you wide in a sudden moment of epiphany. “Nana as in Na Jaemin? The fucking Na Jaemin? Is he the friend you’ve been mentioning? The guy you were calling and bought all this? Holy fuck, Y/N—!”

Your body moved before you could think and you thanked god that your professor wasn’t here yet because you would have caught the entire class’ attention when you leaped forward to slap your hands over Soorim’s mouth.

Renjun’s excessive giggling brought you back to reality, pulling your hands off of her with a gasp and an apology. “Oh gosh, I’m so sorry.”

“What the fuck, why did you do that?”

“I don’t know, it felt like you were about to say something stupid!”

She gave a look, half done and half amazed at your willpower. You’d never been this fired up for anything. “Is it stupid to say that one of the hottest guys on campus is literally—”

“Stupid!” another slap on her mouth. Renjun was about to fall off his chair laughing. “You were going to say something stupid. Please don’t even think about finishing that.”

Lucky for you, your professor had finally come in. Unlucky for you, Soorim shot you the signature dirty stare which meant that you wouldn’t be let off that easily. How fun.

Class went on quiet and boring as usual— you’d never been one for technicalities, preferring heading straight into the creative process with nothing but inspiration coursing through your veins, so your professor’s voice was nothing but white noise running in the background as you busied yourself with your thoughts. Your eyes flickered to the floor, cheek resting on your palm, and you gazed down to the plastic back beside your backpack. Twirling your pencil between your fingers, you pulled out a scrap piece of paper, every move that you made triggered by nothing except the abstract flow of your mind.

There was only one person you were thinking of. The same person living inside your head the moment you stepped foot back into Korea, the same person that made you feel as if you were someone special out of all the eight billion people in the world, the same person that bought you three persons worth of food because he didn’t want you skipping breakfast, the same person that felt more like a dream than anything.

Mindlessly, you started sketching the face of your childhood friend, filling in all the details of his face that you could see whenever you closed your eyes, up until the bell rang that signalled the end of the class.

“Y/N! Your father and I are leaving, now!”

“There’s extra money on top of the fridge if you want to eat out.”

Saturday evening. Your parents decided to go out on a well-deserved date that night, leaving you alone inside your apartment. You saw them out the door, locking it up once they left, and as you pressed your back against the white washed wooden door, your eyes darted over to the clock hanging on your living room wall. Six-twenty-three. There were still a few hours until closing.

An art exhibition was to be held on the same evening, and this was the last day that the actual artist was going to be there. Free and you got to meet world renowned artist Ten Lee? You’d be insane not to go. Though, as you made your way into your room to change out of your raggedy old sweatpants and Jaemin’s (stolen) mint hoodie, you’d come to a realization that maybe the venue was too far for you to just walk. Your parents were using the car and it wasn’t like you could drive anyway. You could commute, but there was a better idea in your system.

Opening your phone, a smile involuntarily tugged at the corners of your mouth as you pressed the contact number that seemed to have never left your recents.

[you: nana! are you free rn? there’s an art exhibition out of town! i need a ride :p and you need some time off your studies too bcs i noticed youve been more tired than usual so good idea i think yes hehe]

As usual, he took no more than a minute to reply. But after lighting up when you saw his name flash on your screen, you bit down your bottom lip to prevent a frown from forming.

[<nana3: TT i’m attending a seminar for an org rn y/nie huhu i don’t know what time it’s ending so i’m not sure if i can make it 😫😭]

[you: it’s okay!! jhfdj sorry for disturbing u!! please listen well to the speaker hehe and tell me how it went]

[<nana3: i’m so sorry]

It was difficult to pinpoint how you exactly felt.

You chewed the inside of your mouth, staring at the phone screen. He shouldn’t be apologizing.

After shutting your closet door down to a close, you fell face down onto your bed, your phone thrown over to the side. Yes, you were disappointed, but it wasn’t what weighed you down; the actual reason feeling like a disgusting, throbbing feeling writhing underneath your skin after being suppressed for awhile now. It never left your system the moment you'd arrived, the moment he showed you what his life was like, making you realize the stark difference between you and him.

You couldn’t care less about the exhibition now. In fact, fuck that entire plan entirely. As you were loitering, fooling around, planning on going to pointless events that wouldn’t be of benefit to your future, Jaemin was there, making connections and decisions and taking a step further into life.

It made you wonder what exactly had you been doing these past seven years— what haven’t you been doing, what you should be doing. You were ashamed to admit it, but it plagued the back of your mind since you got here.

Jaemin was far too out of reach.

It made the wrench in your gut worse whenever he made an effort to not make you feel that way. He’d always include you whenever he’d be with his other friends, always made sure that you didn’t feel left out since you came here, whether it be by his little cute texts even though you were in the same room just to make you smile, or by giving you all of his attention despite the many people vying for his. God, you didn’t deserve him. You didn’t deserve to like him.

What did you deserve?

Just then, there was a knock on your front door, followed by a buzz from your phone.

[<nana3: open the door!]

And you did, scrambling out of your bed and nearly tripping over your feet as you ran just to swing it open. Jaemin stood before you with his hair tousled by the wind, a purple and orange varsity jacket covering his frame. He greeted you with brightened eyes.

“I thought you had—”

“I left early,” he smiled at you, walking inside. “Why aren’t you dressed yet? Hurry, I’ll wait here.”

You blinked at him as he passed you by to sit on your couch, unable to understand what led him to such a decision, staring as he stretched his arms over his head with a yaw. He shouldn’t have come here. “Jaemin, it’s just an exhibition, it’s not as important as your seminar.”

He raised a brow at you, stealing a pillow into his lap. “But you want to go, right?”

“Well…” you did want to go, even after your small episode earlier. “Yeah, but—”

“Then it’s more important.”

He smiled at you. You cursed at yourself for letting your heart dither.

“Besides, you actually think I’d let you go out alone this late at night?” Jaemin stood up from the sofa, resting his hand on top of your head with an affectionate gaze. “You should go change. Or maybe not. You look good in my clothes, anyway.”

It was cold outside, so Jaemin made sure that you were wearing enough layers so that you won’t get sick, forcing you back inside when he deemed that you weren’t covered enough.

“Jaem, I’m fucking sweating.”

You huffed as you lugged yourself to the front seat, but your padded winter coat was preventing you from making a smooth landing inside.

“Sweating is a good sign! That means you’re healthy,” noticing your struggle, Jaemin relented to leaving the coat at the back of the car, but keeping it there just in case. He got in after you, starting the car and turning on the radio for some background noise. “Reconnaissance Gallery Right? What’s the name of the show?”

“Mono,” you replied. “It’s by Ten Lee.”

“Oh! I remember you talking about him once,” he exclaimed. “We should hurry then.”

It was a generally quiet car ride, but the silence was welcomed. After asking where you wanted to eat dinner once you were done with the exhibit, Jaemin didn’t talk anymore. Your eyes followed the moving lights that were lit up all around the night scene, and from time to time they flickered over to admire the boy beside you who seemed to be far too engrossed with his driving. An unconscious smile grew, warmth fluttering inside. You were lucky enough to meet him again in this lifetime, even after being set apart for so long.

“Something wrong?”

He asked without looking. He must have noticed you staring.

“No,” you replied with a soft voice. “Just remembered how baby-faced you were back then.”

With a laugh, he shook his head, one hand stretched out to the steering wheel. “You’re one to talk. Alright, I think we’re here.”

You felt a rush the moment you went past the glass doors, met by a relatively large interior with walls painted either black or white and lined with numerous paintings that contrasted the wall they were hung on. With a large grin, you quickly tugged Jaemin’s arm deeper into the venue, your footsteps making hollow echoes inside the place. He was taken aback by your sudden action, heart racing when he felt your grip on him, never slowing down even when you stopped in front of one of the larger works in the exhibit. “Oh my gosh, I love this painting— wait let me take a picture.”

As you fumbled with your phone, Jaemin couldn’t help but stare at you as if you were a part of the exhibit itself. There were more people inside, yet he didn’t even notice them; paintings as pretty as the night sky, yet it was you that he couldn’t take his eyes off of. Your phone camera captured it with an audible click, and he took it as a signal to scramble and take his out too.

Click!

“The painting’s really pretty, right?”

He nodded at you. “Yeah,” it wasn’t the painting that he wanted to capture. He dug his phone back into his pocket after sneaking a brief glance at your excited grin behind the screen. It wasn’t every day that you smiled like this since you were usually reserved. He didn’t want to miss saving a memory. “You wanna walk around more?”

At his suggestion, you and Jaemin decided to move deeper into the exhibit. You knew he wasn’t that knowledgeable about art, but he still listened intently whenever you told him something about the strokes and composition of some of the works displayed. You hadn’t run into Ten Lee yet even after an hour of walking around and taking pictures, but you didn’t mind at all. Jaemin froze in front of a certain painting— the visage of what seemed to be a face formed together by different objects, drawn in a style similar to the rest with the black and white motif, graffiti-esque structure, and the overall whimsical and abstract feel to it. There was a smile on his face, you wondered what he was thinking about.

“One day, it’s gonna be your paintings that will be displayed here. You promise you won’t forget about me when that happens, okay?" he started, turning his attention to you. “You should also paint a portrait dedicated to me," he joked, nudging you a little.

You smiled at him. Jaemin noticed that this wasn’t your usual smile, but he chose to not say anything. “Okay,” you breathed out before looking down seconds before he could see your expression melt away. How was he thinking so highly of you when it was him who was too far to reach?

He was about to ask— he didn’t know what to ask— but he would say whatever just to erase whatever was bothering your peace of mind. But he wasn’t able to. In fact, just as he lifted a hand to rest over your shoulder as an act of comfort, your head shot up, turning to face the sudden eruption of a commotion that Jaemin had failed to notice in his worry for you.

“Holy crap,” you gasped. “Is that—”

Ten Lee, just a few feet away from you with cameras and crowd surrounding him. You wasted no time to run to him, grabbing Jaemin’s hand in a flash to drag him behind. His eyes softened upon seeing the excited bounce of your hair as you ran. At least your spirits were brought back up again.

Jaemin watched as you nervously fiddled with the hem of your jacket as you waited for an opening to talk to the famous artist, how you would stand on your toes to peek above the small crowd and stand back down again after feeling too shy. Eventually the crowd dissipated to only around four or five people. This was your chance. You looked at him Jaemin. He nudged you with his shoulder. ‘Go,’ he mouthed. You pressed your lips together before finally deciding to march up to the artist. He didn’t realize you have been holding his hands until you let go.

“A-ah, hi!”

He followed after you in case you were feeling too nervous, but he was relieved to see that Ten Lee was pretty down to earth and easy going for someone famous. He stayed a few steps behind you as he listened to the ongoing conversation.

“I can’t tell you enough how much I adore your works. Especially, Monarch! I took a picture of it earlier and it’s so much more captivating in person,” you said, watching as Ten signed your phone case. “Actually, I—I look up to you a lot as an artist. A few of my paintings were actually inspired by your style, but of course it— it would be an insult to compare.”

“You shouldn’t compare,” he scolded, adding in a little sermon about your art is yours and that it should stand alone as your own. He handed your phone back, a smile on his face. “Can I see?”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. In a flustered rush, you quickly scrolled through your gallery folders to find the specific paintings you were referring to, and Jaemin, out of curiosity, hovered over your shoulders to see as well. As you passed through your works with your friend’s mouth hanging open in awe (he wanted to gush about them, but figured this wasn’t formally appropriate), his eyes caught a glimpse of an image that you quickly swiped past— far too glaring too miss because he was sure that it looked something like his face. It was a different kind of pride that he felt when he saw that.

Ten’s eyes flickered as he saw through your paintings, something formulating within even after you hid your phone. He looked at you, grabbing your hands without any warning which caused you to squeak. “Y/N, right?” you nodded, wide eyed. “You know, I’m hosting an online gallery within the upcoming weeks. It’s for young, aspiring artists like you to be recognized at a larger scale.”

Hold on, you tried to catch on to what he was saying. Was he—

“Are you interested?”

—serious? Was he actually serious? It looked like he was because when he let go of you, a business card suddenly materialized in your hands. Holy shit.

“Think about it, okay? Just email me your portfolio and everything. Who knows, what if you get recognized and scouted after this?”

He winked at you, shooting you a thumbs up. This had to be a dream. You were still trying to process the piece of fucking paper that you were holding and now all of a sudden Ten came in between you and Jaemin, swinging his arms around your neck and giving you a pat on the back

“Anyhow, thanks to the both of you for coming to my show. And Y/N—” he looked at you with a grin. “Looking forward to your more of your works.”

Ten disappeared off with two other people, their footsteps clacking against the cold, tiled floor. You stared at the card in your hands for a few moments— Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul, it wrote— before snapping your eyes back to Jaemin who was wearing a far too large smile. “Oh my god.”

Jaemin wasted no time in drowning you into a hug, knocking the air out of your lungs when he nearly toppled you onto the ground.

“Y/N,” his voice was soft in comparison to the roughness of his actions, sweetly fluttering into your ears as he rocked you left and right with his squeezing embrace. “I’m so proud of you.”

His words nearly broke you down to tears.

“This calls for a celebration, right?” he pulled away, hand automatically falling to hold onto yours as he led you to the gallery’s exit. “My treat! I know a place nearby, we should eat an entire feast!”

“Nana, you already treated me to lunch last time, I can’t just—”

“No, no no! I’m treating you, okay? This is your achievement so I should congratulate properly.”

There was no point arguing with him when he already had his mind set, but even during your drive to a nearby barbecue place, even when you were already halfway with the meal, you kept on insisting that you’d pay him back for all of this someday. He’d only laugh it off, telling you that he doesn’t mind as long as you’re enjoying yourself. You downed a shot of soju after hearing that, hoping that it would make you forget momentarily about how fast your heart was beating.

Somehow the clock eventually struck nine, and rather than going home, the both of you took an impulsive detour to a nearby public beach. The sounds of waves crashing against the solemn quiet of the night was heard as you neared the area, bringing you to a moment of peace.

Instead of going to the sandy shore, you two decided to take a spot on the beach cliff right above the rolling water. “Be careful,” Jaemin whispered from behind as he guided you along the rocky surface, heating up from the way he was so, so close with his hands steady on your back. You two sat side by side on the cliff, underneath the veil of stars, with the ocean right in front of you.

“Are your parents okay with you staying out this late?” he cocked his head to face you in a manner that was far too cute for you to suppress a giggle.

“Jaems, they’d probably allow me to disappear off to Italy as long as you’re with me.”

The both of you broke into laughter, but it was eventually replaced by the noises of the ocean. You breathed in the salty scent of the sea, folding your knees to your chest with your arms hugging them together. For a moment your eyes flickered over to Jaemin, and a chord was strung, tugging your heart towards him, but it was impossible for it to leap out of your chest so it only rattled against your ribcage desperately just like the waves. You stared at the way his dark hair melted into the night sky, the wind brushing it away, the way he had his legs stretched out freely over the rocks while you squeezed yourself as small as you could get, and lastly, the way he flashed over to look at the exact moment that you wanted him to.

If there was such a thing as a perfect instance where the stars of the night sky aligned, it would be this.

“You know,” you started, letting your arms fall to your sides as you looked over to the distance. “I envy you sometimes.”

Jaemin was taken aback by your confession.

“I also admire you,” you pressed your lips together tightly, forming it into a smile. “A lot. I admire you a lot. To the point that it made me feel like you’re living in a completely different world from me and that I wasn’t deserving of you.”

You’d finally mustered up the courage to tell him everything you’d pent up during your first month back here— it was better than just letting it fester into something worse, even if there was a risk of completely ruining your friendship. It was better than playing pretend.

“We’re both only a year apart but it seems like you have your life all tied together while I’m still barely able to walk on my own two feet. I wouldn’t even have been able to go to the exhibit if it weren’t for you,” you crossed your legs, a mirthless laugh slipping past your lips as the wind brushed against your cheeks .“I don’t… want to seem ungrateful for everything you’ve done or make you feel bad or anything, because Jaemin—”

You turned around, looking at him.

“If I had the choice to stay back then, I would have gladly chosen to spend those seven years together with you.”

Jaemin stared at you, speechless, unblinking. He had a gut feeling that there was something bothering you all this time, but he never had thought that it would be this.

“But the feeling of seeing you again after all this time is a feeling that I wouldn’t trade for the world either,” you hummed, looking down as you traced the creases of the rocky ground with your fingers, a shaky breath slipping past you. “If only… I wasn’t just so insecure then maybe everything would be perfect.”

For a moment there was nothing— only the lulling sounds of the sea that became quieter after you laid your heart out to the ground. The next moment, Jaemin spoke up.

“I got into an accident four years ago.”

You shot up in a single instant.

Jaemin laughed a little, bringing his hand to the crown of your head in assurance. “I had a herniated disc which got worse during a dance camp. It was definitely scary, how it seemed like I was in a standstill for two years while everyone else carried on with their lives,” he continued, letting his hand drop once more right beside yours. “It’s hard to get out of that hopeless mentality. It takes small steps, but once you do, things will eventually start looking up.”

He shot you a smile, eyes twinkling under the light of the moon. You couldn’t help but put your head down after hearing everything.

“I understand how and why you’re feeling that way, don’t worry I’m not upset. You don’t think I am, right?” he caught you sniffling, leaning forward to take a look at your face but you kept on turning away. “Y/N— Y/N, look at me, okay? I’ll be your personal cheerleader from now on, yeah? Up until you realize that you’re actually greater than you think you are.”

He was too good to you.

“I’m— I’m sorry I couldn’t be there when you were having a tough time.”

You silently muttered, meekly sneaking a glance at him to see that he was actually smiling at you this entire time. He’d always been like this.

“It’s alright, you didn’t have a choice, right?” he assured. “And I’m all better now, as you can see. I can even jump off the cliff into the ocean without having a single scratch!”

Right, you managed a laugh from his silly proclamation. He lit up upon hearing you. Maybe you can try to be like that too.

“What’s important is that from now on.”

There had been a gap between the two of you that entire time, but Jaemin bridged it the moment his hand brushed against your skin, his pinky interlocking with yours against the coarse ground. You met his eyes. He shot you a smile. That same smile that you could never get enough of.

“You’ll be with me.”

“Jaemin, please put your shirt back on.”

When you walked back into the living room, easel and canvas in your arms, you did not expect to be met with your childhood friend-slash-boyfriend mid-strip. In fact you were far too in shock that you dropped everything to the floor at that exact moment, only managing to utter those previous words once you were busy picking them all back up and not looking at him. He quickly ran to help you.

“Oh, I thought this was—” he passed you a paintbrush, helping you stand back up once you’ve gotten everything. “Aren’t the models for your classes usually, like, naked?”

“You think I was gonna paint you nude?!”

“Well,” he mused, holding his shirt to his bare chest. “If you want— okay, sorry! Shirt on! Shirt on!”

You settled down the easel that you just threatened to launch at him near the window where the afternoon sunlight was leaking through. A few days prior, you had contacted Ten Lee regarding the online exhibit, asking when the deadline was because you wanted to include one more piece in your portfolio.

“Nana, can you sit over here?”

There was a stool situated a few feet in front of the easel and right beside the window. He did as you said, now fully dressed and sitting properly and well behaved. You marched up to him, moving around his limbs into a specific pose. Jaemin wore a subtle smile as you grabbed his arms to a certain position, his shoulders into a certain angle, and when your fingers landed on his jaw to adjust his head, he just couldn’t help but throw all your work out the window by pulling you towards him by the waist.

“What are you—” a kiss fell on your nose. Jaemin shot you a cheeky smile.

“Sorry,” he said. “I couldn’t help it.”

You weren’t inclined to do anything else but forgive him, even if it meant refixing him into position, but somehow you managed. Running back behind the easel, you wore a satisfied smile upon seeing the composition, flicking your wrist to start the initial sketch. There was music running in the background. Jaemin sat still for thirty whole minutes.

“Can I move for a sec?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you answered. “I got the basic shapes down anyway.”

He let out an amazed gasp, lips forming into an ‘o’ shape. “So cool,” he said, and you let out a little laugh.

You were trying to focus, but in between a few strokes of your pencil, he wiggled his eyebrows when you looked at him again. You threw your head down to suppress a barrage of giggles. “Okay, this is— this is going nowhere. Can I just take a picture of you?”

Even taking a shot of him was difficult because he just wouldn’t sit still. He’d always do something to make you laugh or smile just when you were about to take a picture. You scolded him, telling him that all you needed was a few takes then the both of you can make a run for some popsicles at the nearby store. He straightened upon hearing, and you finally got to do the job.

“Do you have a title in mind for the piece?” he asked, just as you finished taking the last photo of his face up close.

You did have one. In fact, you’ve had it in mind for a while now.

“Yeah,” you answered, smiling. “Mahiwaga.”

Haechan, for whatever suspicious reason, volunteered to treat you out to lunch today at a family restaurant near the uni. You did not know why, and he would not tell you why, but you could not pass up free food. You texted Soorim to follow just in case you needed mental support because as you sat across him, looking up from your phone while munching your fries to catch the terrifying stare he was giving you, you could tell that you needed at least one other person around.

[you: dude, i think hes actually planning on killing me please hurry up]

[soorim: omw babe]

[soorim: but ur paying for me right]

You sighed, telling her yes you already ordered her food, and she replied with an annoying heart that you refused to mark read. Just as you were about to shut off your phone, ready to hear whatever Haechan was brewing, another message was sent your way.

[<nana3: baby, i saw the exhibition!! 🤩 you know, you’re so amazing, you know?!?! nana is super super proud of you 🥺💚 and i’m sure your parents are, too!! i sent the link to all of my friends yesterday hehe. also i’ll call you immediately after my class, ok?? don’t forget to drink lots of water today 😚 byebye! 💚]

“Are you two fucking yet?”

Haechan’s question caused you to choke on your fries, dropping your phone to the table so you can reach for the glass of Sprite. You looked at him, appalled. “I’m sorry?”

“What are we talking about?”

Soorim had belatedly joined in the party, pushing you farther into the seat to make room for herself. Her eyes zeroed in on the table, choosing the giant burger to attack first. You scrunched your nose as you looked at her.

“We—”

“Whether Y/N and Jaemin have done the dirty yet,” Haechan interrupted. You looked at him in offense and horror. He reciprocated with a deadpan stare. “You have, haven’t you? I went to Jaemin’s house at four in the morning yesterday and—”

“Why were you at his house at four?!”

“Doesn’t matter.”

You looked at him in disbelief, scoffing, and you looked over to Soorim with the words ‘can you believe this guy?’ ready to fire from your tongue. You could not say it. Not when Soorim looked absolutely compelled by Haechan’s bullshit allegations. She even stopped scarfing down her food. You made a mistake in calling her up here.

“What matters is that he looked absolutely fucked out absolutely naked, but not only that!” a scrunchie. He pulled out a scrunchie from his backpack. That was yours. Even had your hair on it. “This is yours isn’t it? I’ve caught you red handed, Y/N, now answer me—”

Haechan’s eyes were out to kill.

“You wrapped it, right? I’m too young to be called Uncle Hyuck so please tell me you did.”

“We are not—”

“That explains why you were walking all weird yesterday!” Soorim exclaimed. “Y/N, you know you could tell me these things, right? There is no—”

“We are not fucking!”

This wasn’t the best conversation to have at a family restaurant.

A waiter stopped serving the table next to you, it’s occupants (that included three kids and their parents) froze and looked at you in horror. An innocent passerby spilled his drink on his tray. You sharply inhaled, bowing your head apologetically. Thank god there weren’t any managers here— the three of you might have actually gotten kicked out.

With a cough, you collected yourself, giving both of your companions the stink eye for putting you in such a compromising position. “Can I not sleep at my boyfriend’s place without— without doing anything of that sort?” you huffed, ignoring the red hot heat creeping up your neck. “And as a matter of fact, I was walking weird because I fell down the while lugging plywood up the stairs, so shut the fuck up.”

The two of them let out a shriek at the same time.

“Boyfriend?! And what— you fell off the fucking stairs?!”

“Did you do as I told you?! Did you follow Hyuck’s five step guide on How To Trap Your—”

“Quiet!”

You shushed the both of them before the three of you actually got kicked out.

“Yes, boyfriend. Yes, I fell off the stairs. No, I did not follow Hyuck’s guide to whatever,” you spitefully took a sip from your drink. “You never even told me what the hell that was.”

As Haechan started to further explain his guide with Soorim enthusiastically taking everything in, you were caught by the buzzing of your phone. The screen lit up. Someone sent you an e-mail— the sender you did not recognize at all. You wiped your fingers with some tissues on the table before taking the device, clicking on the notification immediately after.

“Right. After you tell him that you’re— hey! Y/N, are you even listening?”

You shot up. Haechan noticed the distraught look in your eyes. His brows furrowed together.

“What’s wrong?”

The following weekend, you went out and treated Jaemin to dinner at a fancy Chinese restaurant despite his many complaints. He was about to pay for everything again, but this time you were faster in stealing the check. Afterward, you stopped by a nearby hardware store to buy another two pieces of plywood. You’ve been painting a lot more frequently lately, and you’ve been experimenting more on larger scale works. It was fortunate that Jaemin was there to help you bring the large sheets of wood this time.

“There we go.”

Jaemin settled the wood resting upright against your living room wall, right beside a few stained cans of paint underneath layers of newspaper. You thanked him, smiling, and he ruffled the hair on your head.

“You should ask me whenever you need to do some heavy work alright? We don’t want a rerun of last time,” you cringed upon recalling. That wasn’t a pretty fall. “How are your legs? Have the bruises healed?”

“Almost. You don’t have to worry,” you assured him. He sighed in relief.

Dinner and a shopping trip weren’t the only reasons you called him out tonight. You had actually been meaning to tell him something within the past three days. Your parents knew, Haechan and Soorim found out during lunch last time, Renjun and Jeno might have already found out thanks to their loudmouthed friend. All that’s left was Jaemin. It was his reaction that would help you make the decision.

But why was it so difficult to start talking?

“I’m gonna head out now,” he hummed, pulling you into his chest. You bit down your lip, contemplating, and maybe he noticed your unease and hesitation, as if he could hear your unsaid thoughts, because he lightly pulled away to look at your face and spoke. “What is it? Do you wanna tell me something?”

Of course, you thought to yourself. He’d probably know you’re hungry before your stomach could even rumble.

You gently pried away his hands from your arms, a hollow smile directed to him. Concern flashed through his eyes, but he held back his tongue, waiting for you to say your mind instead.

“Yeah…” you started. “I— I do have something to tell you.”

That was what you said, but as the clock ticked a couple dozen times in the background, you still had yet to tell him. It wasn’t easy to tell him. Because you were afraid that the moment you opened your mouth to squeeze out a single word, you might not make it to finish the entire sentence. If it were him, this might have been easy. But you were not, so it took a little more effort on your part to let the words go.

Maybe you shouldn’t have looked him in the eye, because the moment you did, your eyes stung from the threat of tears and so you jerked your head to the side.

But you weren’t able to evade, because Jaemin decided to follow you. You turned away again, looking towards the unplugged television, but it was once again replaced by Jaemin’s dark brown eyes. Your eyes stung, your lips pressed together, and at that moment you couldn’t help but laugh at his ridiculous actions throwing your head down in the midst of it, but your laughter got choked up by the sudden streaming of tears that you had come unprompted.

Jaemin panicked.

“Hey, hey, baby, what’s wrong? What is it?” he ducked down to reach your face, cupping your cheeks with his large hands as you wiped away your tears. “It’s okay, you can tell me, baby. I’ll listen to everything, okay?”

It took you a while to regain your voice, but Jaemin patiently waited with words of consolation. You couldn’t understand how one person could have this much goodwill and kindness in them.

Eventually your sniffling died down, and so you finally willed yourself to speak. “I— I joined Ten’s exhibition, right? And— and there was a possibility that other artists or institutions might be interested in the participants, right?”

“Mhm,” he replied, stroking the back of your head as you tightly gripped the front of his shirt. “Go on.”

“I— I got scouted? You know PIOA? In Paris? They— they offered me a full scholarship if I…” you paused for a moment, biting the inside of your mouth. “If I transfer there for the remaining months until my last year.”

Jaemin took a while to absorb it, silence flooding along with your occasional sniffles.

“Isn’t that a good thing? Ah, ah, baby look at me, look at me,” he grabbed your shoulders, frowning when he made contact with your red stained eyes. He brushed your cheek with his thumb, heart heavy from seeing you like this. It pained him to see you this way. “Why are you crying? Don’t you want to go?”

A beat of silence. You swallowed, speaking in a small, shaky voice.

“Do you want me to go?”

Another beat of silence.

“Of course! Can you imagine that out of all the people that joined that exhibit, they chose you! Your talent and hard work shouldn’t go to waste,” Jaemin inhaled sharply in between his speech, managing a smile for you to see. “I’m really proud of you, Y/N. An opportunity like this doesn’t come that easily.”

“Jaemin.”

You softly sounded, letting your head fall into his chest. He held you close, as if you were leaving at that instant.

“You know I was so happy when we got in touch again, when I came back to Korea. I know I don’t have a lot going on for me, but I could easily forget all of that because I’m with you,” once more, you felt the tears start to rise up again, but you tried your hardest to swallow them down. “It hasn’t even been that long since we got reunited and now you’re… you’re just telling me to leave you again miles, miles away as if it’s nothing.”

“It’s not like that, Y/N. It’s hard for me too, you know,” he muttered into your hair with a slight whine, his chin resting over your head. “But it’s not like we’re never going to see each other again, right? We managed for seven years, what’s two or three more?”

When he heard you stifle a laugh, laughing despite your sniveling, he couldn’t help but laugh along too. Once more and perhaps the last that night, he pulled away so he could look at the smile on your face, eyes still red and watery, and he pressed a warm kiss on your forehead.

“You have nothing to worry about, baby. We can visit each other during breaks and—” he breathed out, lips curling into a smile. “I’ll call you every day.”

Right, you wiped away your remaining tears, huffing out a brief, airy chuckle.

You looked at him, hopeful, earnest.

“Every day?”

You asked.

“Every day.”

He answered.

You were never going to get used to airports. They always carried a bitter, cold air that signified a goodbye that you were far too familiar with. Today was no different.

“Don’t forget to drink your vitamins alright? It’s a new environment so you might need some time to get used to it. Oh! And—”

“Dude, you’re worse than her actual mom.”

Jaemin shot a smile to your mother at the mention, who was waiting for your group to finish from a distance with your father. Your mother was to stay with you in Paris for a week until you got everything settled down while the four boys, Soorim, and your father decided to send you off today. Though, unlike your usual experiences with leaving and returning, today was much louder, more rowdy. It was a nice change— you only wished that it would last longer.

“It’s okay, I appreciate the concern,” you laughed. “Do I have to report back to you everything before I go to bed?”

“Well, if you can,” Jaemin mused, locking his pinky finger with yours and swinging your hand into the air from side to side. “Kidding, kidding. I trust you’ll take care of yourself there.”

A chorus of gagging noises broke out when you pulled his shirt, burying your face into his chest, prompting him to smile and wrap his arms around you. You drowned them out, though, only focusing on how warm he was despite the cold brushing of the wind, how he held you with so much gentleness that one would think he was afraid that he might break you.

It was funny how free you felt when you were trapped inside his embrace.

“How many times do I have to say goodbye to you at the fucking airport?” you grumbled, tears welling up again and so you wiped them away with your sweater sleeve. “Wait, why aren’t you crying. Aren’t you even at the very least sad that I’m gonna leave?”

Jaemin chuckled, replacing your hand with his to brush away the stray tears.

“If I cry in front of you then you probably won’t even board the plane.”

You hated that he was right.

“I’ll do it after you leave,” he let out a laugh, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. At that moment, the pre-boarding announcement rang throughout the area's speakers, signalling that it was time for you and your mother to go. Grabbing your suitcase, you sent a grateful look to each one of them— your father, Jeno, Renjun, Donghyuck, Soorim, and—

Jaemin suddenly grabbed your suitcase handle before you could go, his hand right beside yours. You locked eyes with him, wide and surprised.

He landed a kiss right on your lips.

“Call me when you arrive, okay?”

You mindlessly nodded, still in the midst of recovering from shock. Your mother called out to you to start moving.

As you walked away, head still locked behind, you watched as the four screamed, cheered, and teased your boyfriend as they shook and pushed him around like a ragdoll, while he just kept on looking at you with a smile.

“Don’t worry, Y/N! I’ll record his crying face!”

Haechan screamed despite being several feet away already, and you stifled out a laugh.

You might have to say goodbye today, but time will come when you would meet again.

Across the cobblestone tiled sidewalk, people were walking about, the streets were filled with tourists and natives, the mid noon sun was just in reach. Summers had always been crowded in the city, and you were swimming in the middle of the crowd in a far too inappropriate attire, sweating as you spoke into the phone.

“Oh, yeah. I’m on my way to the gallery now— I had to stop by at a cafe first, though.”

“You seem busy.”

Jaemin’s voice echoed from your phone’s speakers. The streetlight turned red. You followed the crowd as you crossed the street.

“Yeah… It’s a lot of back and forth work, even on the last day of the show, but it’s all worth it,”you replied. “Did you know that people kept on asking me who my muse was for Mahiwaga? Ever the popular boy, even when you’re not here.”

It has been a year and a half since you first got to France. Things have been going well on your part with your budding art career— and so far you’ve guested in three exhibitions, but you have yet to have one solo. Even though you and Jaemin promised to see each other during breaks, it was practically impossible to align your time. He was busy with internships and his organizations this year and so were you. But one thing the both of you have faithfully maintained throughout the course of your time away was calling each other every day, even if it was just for a few minutes.

A cyclist sped past you. Jaemin’s voice was heard again. He laughed at your last remark, saying that he wasn’t that popular, but all of a sudden his voice turned into a more serious tone.

“Since you have a lot of work these days…”

Your brows furrowed, squinting as the light shone into your eyes. You clutched your sling bag, heels clattering as you passed by the cream, brown, and grey buildings.

“Should we call less often?”

You stopped in your tracks.

What?

“No— no, Jaems, what are you saying? Are you sick? Are you not feeling well?” you were almost late for the opening, but you couldn’t care less at the moment. What was he on about? Call less? Never had that crossed your mind even once. “I don’t even get to see you anymore, so if anything… we should call as often as we can.”

A few people passed from behind. His end of the line was silent. Your lips scrunched into a frown, confused.

“Jaemin?”

“That’s a relief.”

Before you could even ask him anything, the call ended.

“What the hell?” you huffed, staring at your phone screen in perplexity before you returned it to your pocket. Maybe he was feeling a lot more lonely than usual— that was unavoidable, but the both of you made it work. You should ask him what that was all about later. Now, you really needed to head to the gallery. With a sigh, you marched forward, stopping at an intersection where the large, eggshell white walls of the gallery stood across.

You stopped before the crosswalk, the lights green, and a few vehicles passed by, and your thoughts were once again clouded by Na Jaemin and why did he suddenly propose that. Was he getting sick of you? Was this his way of hinting a breakup? Your face contorted into a look of horror. No, you shook your head at the notion. He literally sent you a picture of a weird keychain last night  saying it reminded him of you. Another sigh. The light went red. You crossed the street.

Maybe it was because you were thinking too much of him, maybe you were missing him too much, but the moment you reached the middle of the crosswalk, your heart suddenly stopped, legs froze, eyes stuck to the sight right in front of you.

There he stood, right before the front stairs of the gallery with dozens of people disappearing and passing by. He spotted you, eyes lighting up, the corners of lips automatically quirking upwards. He sent you a small wave.

You ran.

“Hi— woah!”

Maybe you were causing a scene, but you didn’t care. You couldn’t find it in you to care when Na Jaemin was right fucking here. He chuckled when you suddenly ran into him, wrapping you in a tight hug that matched your own. “You know, I was afraid that you’d actually agree to limiting our calls,” he started, and you looked up, the light shining into your eyes. Jaemin’s smile was as bright as the sun. “I thought I would have to deport myself back to Korea.”

Your lips quivered, unable to hold it back. Yeah, you shook your head, a shaky laugh leaving your lips. It’s always been like this.

“Is this where you’re holding the exhibit? Wow, it’s a lot bigger than in pictures.”

There are points in your life where you’re met with a choice— to stay or leave, to smile or cry. Always him between something else. Twice. You’ve said goodbye to him twice choosing to leave. For a moment, it might seem that you’ve chosen the other. But that was never the case, because at the end of each day it was him you were thinking of, it was him that your lines end, it would always be—

“Y/N? Y/N? Are you crying?” he exclaimed, frowning as he wiped away your tears. “Ah, it’s such a happy day today, you shouldn’t be crying.”

“I missed you, you dummy.”

—Him. You’d always choose him. Na Jaemin. Jaems. Nana. Your childhood best friend. Your boyfriend—

He smiled at you, eyes shining, pressing a kiss on your forehead before taking you into his arms once more with a shaky breath. “I missed you too.”

—Your mahiwaga.

hannie-dul-set, 2020.

[briamichellewrites]

33

If Kevin, Brian, A.J., Howie, and Nick had a dollar for every swear word they heard… Bria invited them to hang out with her and Linkin Park at the studio during one of their days off. They were introduced to each other. While watching them, they came to see how well-organized they were. Mike and Brad were in charge. They all took turns recording while all six of them joked about like brothers. Brian jokingly asked how they got along so well.

There wasn’t any fighting or arguing or anything. They were friends before they became a band. They met each other in high school or college, except for Chester. He auditioned for the band. How did they all meet? It was through an advertisement in the paper about forming a boy band.

They each auditioned. The only two who knew each other were Kevin and Brian. A.J., Nick, and Howie knew each other because they had the same voice coach but they didn’t know each other well. Joe pointed out Bria, who had the idea of the name for their band. They were thinking about calling themselves Xero, spelled out as X-e-r-o, Linkin Park, or Hybrid Theory.

Mike asked her which one she liked better and she thought Linkin Park sounded cooler, so they went with that one. She jokingly told them they were welcome. They noticed the differences between them. Mike and Joe were Asian. Yes, they were. Mike was part Japanese, Joe was Korean, Brad and Rob were Jewish; Phoenix was gay and Chester was Chester. They laughed. Rob thought that explained him perfectly. Phoenix was quieter than usual. He didn’t want to be there but he had to.

He was distracted by his phone and the thoughts in his head. Chester noticed him getting up. They nodded to each other before he also got up. They excused themselves. Mike and the band knew why he was leaving. He did that whenever he needed a few minutes to get away. Sometimes he went out to cry privately. He was overwhelmed with stress. They wanted him to get help.

They didn’t want to lose him to exhaustion. He was their brother, so they wanted to help him in any way possible. They went outside where they sat down together. He then started crying quietly. Chester asked him if he wanted to talk about it. He responded that his mother was dying. The cancer had spread throughout her body and they couldn’t stop it. She wanted to die at home, so they hired a nurse to come every day to help out rather than having her go into hospice.

She had a year left. Fuck cancer! He was angry at the disease for taking her away from their family. She was still very young. It wasn’t fair. Chester listened to him before asking him to go into grief counseling. He shouldn’t be going through this by himself. They were worried about him. He wiped his tears. Will you come with me? Just for the first appointment?

Only if he wanted him to. Yes, he did. Then, he would. Thank you. The nineties. That was a topic of conversation since they all went through it. Brian asked her what kind of music she listened to as a teenager. She had to think back.

“Oh my god. The Backstreet Boys, Britney Spears, *NSYNC, the Spice Girls and Hanson. For a while, I was in this phase where I listened to Gloria Estefan, Ricky Martin, and someone Iglesias.”

“Enrique Iglesias”, Howie said.

“Yeah. I also listened to Shania Twain. It drove my father crazy because he didn’t understand my music choices. Then, I started dating Mike in 1998. He got me listening to eighties and nineties hip hop and eighties new wave.”

“You’re an equal opportunity music lover”, Rob joked.

“I am. I like to annoy Brad by playing Come On Over by Shania Twain. He hates it, especially the song That Don’t Impress Me Much. There’s that line, ‘Okay, so you’re Brad Pitt. That don’t impress me much.’ He always tells me to change the song.”

They laughed. Did she know Brad Pitt? Yes, she dated him for about two years and they lived together for a while. How in the world did she meet him? She was in Cannes at a restaurant. The dude was trying to order but he didn’t know French and the poor waitress didn’t know English, so she had to intervene. After she got home, they started talking and then eventually started dating. They liked to joke about him having fifty-fifty custody of her cat, Tiny.

Why did they break up? She left him because of his alcoholism, which she didn’t find out about until after they moved in together. He was irritable and angry, so she didn’t want Tiny to go through that. When he left to work on a movie, she boarded her cat, called a locksmith to change the locks, and then packed up all of his stuff. After he completed treatment, he apologized for his behavior.

They had no idea. What was he like when he wasn’t drinking? He was two different people. The guy they saw in public was different than who he was in private. In private, he was a guy with insecurities. He hated comments about his body and he never truly believed in his greatness. A lot of it had to do with him wanting to be his own person while also wanting to uphold his parents’ expectations for him. It was a lot of pressure for him.

Especially since he felt he had to be Brad Pitt, the movie star when in reality, he was just a guy from Oklahoma and Missouri. Mike thought that explained who he was perfectly. She met his parents. They were not easy to impress. She was not going to get into that. They laughed. Mike jokingly asked about his parents. She loved his parents and Bradford’s parents.

“I remember going to Thanksgiving with you and your family. Your grandfather or someone found out I could speak Japanese, so we were talking back and forth. You were just standing there awkwardly not knowing what the hell we were saying.”

They laughed.

“I think I also talked to your brother in Spanish. Both of you guys, your families are awesome!”

“My parents adopted you”, Brad said with a smile.

“Oh my god. That means you’re never going to get rid of me.”

They laughed. When Phoenix came back in with Chester. His eyes were red and puffy, but they didn’t acknowledge it. He sat down without saying anything. Mike patted his back. Thank you. Did he want to come over and have a beer? Yeah, that would be great.

Kevin and the guys noticed the differences between their band and Linkin Park. They were a genuine family. Not just a bunch of guys who made music together. This was what they wanted to be. How the hell did they do it?

Chester asked Bria if she was going to get another kitten. She answered that was always a possibility. Mike told her not to get another kitten. Three cats were enough. That was why they couldn’t have nice things. Howie jokingly asked if they wanted to teach them how to get along. Brad joked they needed someone like Mike. He was the glue that kept everyone together.

The band agreed with that. That made him laugh. Bria also kept them in line. Mike volunteered to come in and see what they needed help with. They would appreciate that. Joe jokingly asked Mike what they would do without him. Chester answered they would never get anything done because Brad would be stressed out and everything would fall apart. Joe joked that they would be fighting each other like ninjas. Mike thanked them. He appreciated it. Mike Shinoda: Ninja Tamer. They laughed.

@zoeykaytesmom @feelingsofaithless @alina-dixon @fiickle-nia

[qslovebot]

KISS FOR YOUR LIFE: SPENCER REID

Summary: A BAU case leads the reader to take on an undercover role to flush out a ten-person mafia. Before the work can begin, things go awry and the reader has to improvise and pretend to seduce Spencer to keep her cover and arrest the real unsub.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Warnings/includes: talk of murder, mentions of sex, suggested past experiences with misogyny, suggestive jokes, unsub is a radical feminist, swearing, arrests, guns, making out, sort of fluffy end.

Word Count: 4159

A/N: Written like an episode. I removed Rossi so... AU? First actual fanfic on here, tell me what you think?

Today was your first official day at the BAU, switching from two floors down as an underestimated agent to upstairs, with the Big League. Agent Hotchner decided he needed new, young-minded blood. He was notorious for picking the best of the best and after an intimidating interview with him and his brooding questions, he decided he wanted you on his team.

You had been here before, of course. You frequently visited the ever-chatting Penelope Garcia for lunch, sometimes in her office, sometimes heading downstairs for a slice of pizza or a salad. She vented about her issues, while you talked about the constant misogyny that ran through the men on your floor. She was five years older than you and decided that as your 'elder' she would put on the angry soccer mom look and kick their asses. But, lucky for you, two floors upward, the men didn't act like children on the job, so Garcia could keep her regular look.

Here it was, glass entrance, high ceilings. The air smelled like paper and was filled with a fresh sort of low mumbling and the small clicks of the keyboards. A semi-fresh start. Today you would organize your new desk, sort files, meet the others...

"Agent (Y/L/N), we have a case in Boston, we will be briefed on the jet. Get your things ready, we leave in twenty-five minutes," Agent Hotchner said as he walked by. He didn't stop for a single second, those dark dress shoes clomping heavily to the desks of your new fellow agents to inform them as well. So much for your plans.

Not wanting to appear unready, you rushed to set your things down and grab the few things you needed for the case. Hotchner had said always bring three spare outfits rolled to the smallest packing size possible, toiletries (toothpaste, toothbrush, hairbrush, and feminine hygiene products) as well as one extra pair of shoes. Those were already packed into a small bag, so in with those went your notebook, pens, and highlighter. You came prepared, so in no time, you were on the jet for the first time, exhilarated.

A hand was extended to you when you took your seat. It belonged to a man with caramel skin and a dazzling smile, "You must be (Y/L/N). The name is Derek Morgan." Anyone who used 'the name is' seemed like they felt superior in some way. It was used in the media to introduce someone of importance. 'The name is Bond, James Bond', ran through your head as you gratefully shook his hand.

"My name is Emily Prentiss and I... didn't quite catch your first name," a woman with a v-neck sweater also reached to shake your hand. "I think I may have heard it, but I must have forgotten."

"(Y/N)," you replied with a small smile. It felt nice to be greeted with kind eyes, rather than greedy ones. "It's not a very memorable name, don't worry."

Emily looked apologetic, but soon reverted to her previous smile. I was greeted by the blonde woman across the aisle, too far to shake my hand. "My name is Jennifer Jareau, I'm the media liaison, but you can call me JJ, everyone does. It's really great to meet you- for a moment I thought Penelope had made up a friend as a result of too many hours in front of a screen."

You laughed a little, ruffling your hair. She seemed outgoing, but I had already started profiling Derek Morgan and I wanted to stop there. Agent Hotchner sat down with someone I had never noticed on my visits to Penelope. I had noticed everyone else here on this jet at least once before, but... not him. How had you missed him?

He stood at about six-one, maybe six-two? He was thin, much the opposite to Morgan's greatly muscular arms. This man was calm-looking, quiet. His clothes said that maybe he was meticulous and orderly- he looked like the kind of person who didn't own a single pair of sweatpants. His face was chiselled, with a sharp jawline and cheekbones that carved the shadows on his face. His eyes, however, were much softer. Long eyelashes and dark eyes made them bigger, but they were slightly blocked by bronze-toned brown curls that at the end of his combed and gelled hair, wrapped around his jaw, neck, and face.

He was beautiful, if you were entirely frank with yourself.

And he didn't even notice you were there until Hotchner nudged his arm in a way that said 'say hello' the same way one would introduce two toddlers. You were sure you weren't a toddler and nor was this man, but it appeared you both may have been the youngest there.

When he looked your way, you wanted to look away, but couldn't. He seemed surprised to see you there and you were trying to play off the staring by introducing yourself. "Hi, I'm SSA (Y/N) (Y/L/N). I don't think we've met, it's nice to meet you." You extended your hand and he just shook his head no, his lips pressing into a tight line.

He didn't shake hands, you realized. Probably a slight germophobe. You cleared your throat, "I'm sorry if that was an uncomfortable gesture, I didn't know." Humiliating.

The tall man opened his mouth to say something, shut his mouth, opened it again but then turned a little pink and sat down immediately next to Hotchner and stared at his hands that were folded in his lap. You had thought you nailed pretty much every introduction, but this one? Fuck.

You reverted back to your business with a sigh, patting your knees. It felt like you had somehow lost something. JJ whispered to you, silently pointing to the tall man, "Dr. Spencer Reid, human encyclopedia, dictionary, and knows pretty much everything." You nodded a thank you and she nodded back.

Derek Morgan, however, tapped Emily Prentiss on the shoulder and mumbled, "Reid did his 'pretty-girl-freakout'."

Emily gasped, "Oh, he did!

The two seemed to have forgotten you were in front of them and they noticed your confusion in unison, both of them freezing up and chuckling nervously. You smiled an extremely awkward smile and left thinking about Dr. Spencer Reid for later as you got to the case.

This was about a female mafia boss who seemed to take on the personality, style, and characteristics of the taste of rich men and kill them after having sex with them. The woman was reported and seen by one witness to see her and that was the only person outside of this mafia who had seen her face, so they were working with the sketch artist and would have the picture ready and accurate upon our arrival.

Victimology was simple, she was after men who had too much power. She probably identified with being a radical feminist. She was after their money and had sex with them to dethrone them on the way. Possibly bordered on a personality disorder considering she seemed to be entirely all-in to her 'disguises'.

The funniest thing was the way they all looked at you when you announced those lines. Perhaps you would work yourself out of the 'child' stage faster than you thought.

The BAU hit the precinct in much less time than I had expected and on the ground, running. You were immediately given things to do and you were on top of it all, every order. That was until the drawing of the Mafia leader AKA 'The Seductress' was pulled up and the whole BAU gasped at how she looked EXACTLY like you.

"Do I need my cuffs?" Morgan joked. You had covered your mouth in disbelief and the rest of the room was doing double-takes.

You laughed nervously, "I swear... that isn't me, but oh my god..." Morgan was laughing and Emily and JJ whispering and had confused smiles. Spencer Reid stood in the corner, his hand on his cheek, seemingly studying the photo. He looked statue-like, borderline godly.

"Can this be used to our advantage?" Hotch launched back into technical thinking, brow furrowed. You looked at him, mouth open, but immediately shut it out of professionalism. What was going on in his head?

Reid spoke up, "If we position her just right and at the right time in one of the hotspots for that group, we can possibly get her to somehow trick the other members into some sort of turn-in."

Her. Indirect. Did you do something wrong?

"Or a simple appearance could start gossip and a possible flock to where she was spotted. As long as people aren't seeing double or reaching to do so, she can play as The Seductress." Emily said, looking at you. "Are you up to try, (Y/L/N)?"

All eyes on you. Your first day turned to chaos. But this was your job and you would prove your place here. So you agreed and in a whisk of an afternoon, you were transformed into the mirror image of The Seductress while you were talked through the plan through a radio. Turned out, so prove a professional place, you needed to make yourself look ridiculously unprofessional.

Pinned up hair, dark cat eye makeup, a dress similar to hers that happened to be on hand. Long, deep red, with a long slit up the side and your tits were practically falling out of it, but the dress fit and they were secure, so you dealt with it. There was no other space for a gun other than the side of your thigh where The Seductress kept hers knife. Now, you had to get going, meaning you had to face the BAU in the getup.

When you walked out, Derek Morgan hooted and whistled and Emily gave him a look that said 'oh lord' like an annoyed sibling. You smiled a little and essentially just kept walking, figuring if you moved, it would give them less time to stare at your tits.

Turning the corner, you noticed that Dr.Spencer Reid was much redder than he had been earlier on the jet. So maybe he really did think you were pretty. You caught yourself smiling at the thought, but shook your head free of any ideas. Professional! No crushes on Spencer Reid!

You arrived near the scene, dropped off by Hotchner. "You know what to do. Reid will be going with you to the crateyard, he will also be nearby when you head in. If you see The Seductress, do not make the arrest. If you can, lure her."

You nodded. Wow, first time in the field with the BAU and you had the leading role. No pressure, no pressure, just... everyone depending on you. But the pressure came back when you realized you had heard right and Reid was going with you, alone. You had done really well with the job so far today, minus finding the tall doctor extremely attractive. He came to stand beside you and since he was much taller than you were, you were sure he could look right down your dress without even trying. Not like anyone had to try, but he had the upper hand.

You ached to cover yourself, but that was a major risk. The Seductress was confident, she wouldn't cover-up. You got into the tinted car with Reid, him in the driver's seat and you in the passenger's seat. Silence crept up, but he turned the engine over and headed east to where the mafia was to meet up.

"Some first day," you mumbled nervously.

Reid seemed to think you had said something to him and he talked to you directly for what seemed like the first time. "P-pardon?" He had a stutter when talking to you and to be honest it was cute but there was no time to crush!

"Oh, I was just remarking to myself on how this is my first day and I'm already... so... out there." You sighed and pat your knees. The jitters crept up, but so did butterflies. "Nervous, I'm nervous."

He looked over and swallowed hard, so hard it was audible. Was he fighting the same urge to be friendlier or was he just fighting the urge to look at your tits like a twelve-year-old boy would? Either way, you were glad he was with you. He smelled like books, leather, and cologne and it was oddly calming.

You reached the other side of the crateyard in a few more minutes and he handed you your gun, which you shoved into the holster on your thigh. "You're going without a vest so... k-keep focused," Spencer said- and it seemed like he had so many words jumbled on the tip of his tongue, but refused to say them. You thought he was afraid to annoy you, as you knew he liked to give lengthy explanations. "I'll be behind, uh- the crates."

You smiled at him and watched him look away, his curls falling in his face. God, he was so gorgeous. If this went wrong, you were glad you would go with that shy look of his in the front of your mind. He pulled on his vest and you put out a hand and stopped him. "If they see you with the vest at all, in any way, they'll know what's happening."

He nodded, keeping his eyes from yours as he pulled on a plain black jacket over the vest. For a genius, he seemed to have his mind a little fuzzy tonight. In the dark of the night, the only lights were flickering lamps on high-beamed poles. Your heart was beating hard as you waited for the signal to begin to move.

"G-good luck," Spencer's words fumbled out of his mouth and I looked at him for a moment where he looked right back at you. He chewed on his bottom lip, eyelids fluttering as you tried to look anywhere else and there it was- the radio signal. The tension that was there in that brief moment defused. You gave him a small smile before opening the car door and standing tall, in the aura of The Seductress.

Spencer waited until you were out between the crates to leave the car. You heard the door shut gently behind you, but his footsteps were silent. Much quicker than you thought, there was a gruff voice that didn't belong to Spencer. "My lady, may I say what an honour it is to have you join us this evening." You spun to face a man in a dark suit. You didn't have The Seductress's voice, so you nodded in the most gracious way you could.

"Bernard and Lolita are waiting inside the abandoned building for the small exchange as well as the rest of us, but Mamacita... you're being tailed by the FBI." He said, pointing to the crate that hid Dr. Spencer Reid. Fuck, fuck, fuck. "I'll go kill him for you!"

So flat out, he wanted to kill Spencer Reid, a rotting smile on his face as if it was an act of kindness. He knew Spencer was there, he saw... but you weren't busted? God, this man was stupid.

"No," you said, in a quiet, yet strong voice, grabbing the gruff man by the shoulder pad. "He is my kill."

The man grinned an evil grin and you did your best to smile evilly in return. You showed him your gun and he rubbed his palms together. "The gluck and Glock," he chuckled. "Can I watch?"

He thought you were going to fuck and kill Spencer. Your heart skipped a beat and you tried hard not to show it. Oh no... how to work your way out of this... Spencer couldn't help you. Or... could he?

You glared at the man, "No, but I know that his team is on the way. Get Bernard, Lolita, and anyone else in on the next killings from that abandoned building and run straight west. Do not stop. I will catch up to you once I'm finished with the agent here." You improvised the best you could and this stupid man bought it. Little did he know that the team was stationed Westbound.

"Got it," his face was dazed and malevolent. "But I'm not leaving until I know you've got this handled, my lady."

"You question my skill?" You shot back, still acting.

He looked scared for a moment, "No, not at all, I just... You're a lot shorter than I was expecting."

You stared daggers, "And you insult me?"

"Just wanted to know you had it covered... in case something is fishy here..." was he really catching on or was he confused and just running through the precautions?

Fuck, you had been so focused on the cover you forgot you were a profiler. This man was small-minded, probably brought into this ordeal through family ties. Since he was so stupid, he was trusted with less... hence why he was outside the building as the lookout, rather than in on the meeting.

Why he wouldn't leave- he was so incapable of proper interaction he had never had the chance to be with a woman. Watching was the only way he would ever see. He was stupid and he was stubborn. He was not going to leave until he saw the beginning.

The best thing would be to let him stay for proof. "Fine. But when I give you my look, you run and get everyone running straight West." You narrowed your eyebrows at him and he looked like he was going to sweat out of his skin. But... this meant...

You had a few seconds, you rushed over to behind the crate to where Spencer stood, his gun in hand. "W-what are you-" he questioned in a whisper-yell.

"He's onto me, I need you to go along with this- can I kiss you, Dr.Reid?" You whispered back. His eyes went wide and his cheeks flushed pink. Once again, being professional called for being unprofessional. You really didn't want to kiss him- at least not now, not like this. He wouldn't speak and the mafia man was coming. "Reid, if I don't do this, he won't flush the group West and we'll both be shot and if not shot, targeted by a mafia!"

"Y-yes!" he practically squeaked, his back to the crate he was hiding behind. This really was the only way- this other man would not be talked down, because he was taught to just shoot, rather than listen and understand. "I'm sorry if I-"

You cut him off by reaching up, grabbing the collar of his shirt and kissing him. It took him a moment, but he kissed back. You could feel the heat off of his cheeks. The first day on the job, you had embarrassed yourself, gotten dressed like a Mafia killer, played the part, and now you were kissing Dr.Spencer Reid in a crateyard... and he was surprisingly not a bad kisser. He was a little sloppy the first few seconds but moments later, he figured it out. His one hand went on your jaw, the other on your waist, both of them shaking. You could tell that the shaking wasn't because the man watching you both right now had a gun, it was you.

You were making out with him, hard. Your body was pressed to his tightly against the crate and Spencer was holding you there. Your hands were still gripping his shirt. Messy altogether but your lips met in every perfect way. It was good, but for work. This was when you knew to stop- you had convinced the other man. You pulled away, turned your head and mouthed to the mafia man, 'GO' and he ran.

Now things would be extremely awkward. You pushed yourself away from Spencer whose hands stayed on your waist and face until you were entirely out of his reach. You laughed anxiously and he stood there, hands behind his back. That was... that was wow, but... it was for the case. For the case.

It was time to get moving. Spencer knew it, you knew it. The real Seductress was on her way. You turned your head over your shoulder and he was moving slowly, head down. You fought off a small smile. He was entirely red, gun still held loosely in his hand.

You turned your head and were met by a sharp blow to the face. Both of you had let your guard down. Stupid.

"I don't like impostors," said the female voice that was the source of the blow. Hell, it was her. Spencer clocked his gun into place and you turned, elbowing The Seductress in the chest. She returned with another hard blow that you ducked, spinning around her and kicking the back of her leg. She recovered quickly and shot up, punching you in the stomach. You lost your breath for a second and she took the opportunity to punch you in the jaw and pull a knife.

"Put the knife down!" Spencer called. His voice was stronger facing a woman with a sharp knife than it was when talking to you alone. "I know who you are, you want what's right for women, correct?"

The Seductress narrowed her eyes at him like her next meal, leaving you on the ground. Would Spencer shoot if she threw that knife? Odd she didn't have a gun on her. She must have been relying on the others for more protection. You stood up quietly, watching her slowly advance on Spencer. He had your lipstick smeared over his lips, he looked rough, but he held his gun out in front of him and had the other hand up to reason with her. "Men like you think yourselves above women. You, FBI, you think yourself better than men and women alike because you're the authority. Tell me, how do you like your women, Agent?"

He gulped, eyes flickering to you. You pulled out your gun. "I think... I think I'm a weak man and I'm no better than anyone. I don't deserve women." Spencer said, looking at the evil lady. In person, she looked a lot less like you.

"Lies. It's the instinct of men to feel superior to women. You'll have a lot less instinct when you're dead!" She snarled, lunging at him with her blade out. You pulled the trigger, she fell to the ground. Not dead, but wounded to pass out. Spencer narrowly jumped out of her way, watching her knife clatter to the ground.

You looked up at Spencer, bewildered. You had done it. You saved the case, took down a murderous mafia boss. It was only when Spencer pointed at your face and said, "Y-you're bleeding, (Y/N), are you okay?"- that you noticed your cut lip and the blood pouring from your forehead. But you also noticed he called you by your first name.

He reached a hand forward but retracted it when you winced from the sudden pain. Adrenaline took the pain away temporarily, you supposed. There were still things to be done. Spencer called for backup and a medic and watched as you cuffed the woman. She wasn't going to die, but she did need help.

Once medics arrived, Spencer drove you both back to the Westward situation, where ten arrests had been made. You were in a state of haze, so how Spencer's jacket got around your shoulders was a mystery. When you stepped out of the car, you were greeted by the rest of the agents.

"Are you okay?!" Prentiss was the first to greet you both. She grabbed you by the shoulders and looked at the nearly-dried blood on your skin. "We got worried when you didn't follow soon after, you got her?"

"Yeah," you smiled tiredly.

She grinned back. "Fill us in on the details on the way back, okay? Let's get you two cleaned up."

But Derek Morgan found Spencer, "Hey pretty-boy, is that royal rouge you've got on your lips there?" he teased. Spencer panicked and looked into the mirror of the nearest car, seeing that he did in fact have your lipstick on his mouth. He tried to wipe it off with his wrist, but it still stained. You wiped your own lip with your thumb and Derek caught you. "Okay, Miss Newbie, I see you."

Your eyes widened and Emily raised her eyebrows at you, a teasing smile on her lips. "It was to keep my cover. It's what sent those guys your way, one of them has serious sexual issues." You made sure they knew it- to save yourself and to save Spencer. Derek Morgan spun away with a huge knowing grin, back to Hotchner who was conversing with the Chief of Police. Emily pulled you away to the other medics and you shot Spencer a smile as you went.

He smiled back, still wiping off his mouth.

-tags

@ellyhotchner @softhairedhotch <3