#so the gifs just stay in the hidden likes folder

[writeoffside]

DOCUMENTS AND DESTINIES, part two

♯ battinson!bruce wayne x fem!reader - 2/?

PART ONE < here

summary: Continuation of part one of documents and destinies — The mentioned visitor comes to give you another visit after he comes in to return the files he had borrowed few days ago, both of you unaware to the forming interest inbetween the two of you

warnings: none - just swearing

info: english isn't my first language, i apologize in advance for all the mistakes (if there are any!)

a/n: part two finally woooo!!!! i loved writing angus so much, he is so silly:D i hope ur gonna like this chapter :))))

He couldn't stop thinking about that day. It's been nearly five days since he last saw you, as well for the first time.

He couldn't shake that whole moment from his thoughts. He imagined that little awkward wave you both gave to each other. The little smiles you threw. The whole interaction with you. He couldn't stop thinking about it.

He had work to do. He's read throughout the whole files he borrowed. Made copies of them, which he then gave to Alfred to check through them as well. Even as he was working, he couldn't stop his thoughts to wander to that interaction.

"Bruce?" A familiar voice sounded in the cave, pulling Bruce out of his thoughts. Alfred stepped out of the elevator and walked towards his hunched over frame.

"I was wondering if you've—" He stopped himself as he came to stand by Bruce. His eyes catching a certain video on one of the monitors in front of them, playing with the reddish filter over. The video was replaying on a loop. It was clearly a video from Bruce's eye lenses... Which held the interaction.

The screen showed the video where you stood in front of him. Your coat and bag drapped in your grasp and little smile plastered on your face. The video replayed the shared awkwardness you both had.

Bruce didn't even bother to look over at Alfred, who stood next to him. He didn't turn away from the monitors in front of him. He takes a step closer and observes the video in front of him. A hum makes its way from him as he watches the recording play.

Bruce finally shuts off the video and sighs as he does so. The memory stays in his head— the hesitant smiles, the eye contacts you've both had, awkward little waves... It plays over, over and over again. He remains silent, his eyes still glued to the monitor, where the video was shown before.

"Alfred," he finally breathed out as he turned his head to the side to look at his butler, who is standing there and leaning against the cane he holds.

"Maybe... Maybe it's time for a break, Bruce," he tells him as he puts a gentle reassuring hand onto his shoulder and squeezes. His body stiffening quickly at the touch.

A deep hum comes out of his chest and he stands up back onto his height. His eyes fixated on the monitors in front of him.

With no other word uttered, he's swiftly walking away from the butler, towards the elevator hidden in the darkness of the cave. His steps thumping against the hard floor as he walks away. Leaving his butler behind.

As the elevator escalates, the butler takes a step closer to the computers, monitors and more equipment on the table. He eyes the little folder icon on the monitor, which hides away the bright red colored video from the nights before.

He sighs as he reaches for the touchpad of the computer and moves the cursor towards the file what's sat on the screen. He presses the button and the screen lights up, the footage looping back to the beginning of the choosen clip.

There it is.

The screen is lit up with the clip that the young master has replayed countless of times in the past few days. The video doesn't hold the blackness sides of the cowl he wears during the nights. It's not through the eyes of the Vengeance.

But through the eyes of Bruce.

There is a woman, standing by his car, in front of an old apartment building. Her face was shined on by the glow of the city lights, a soft and genuine smile adoring her face.

The butler smiled at the sight. The footage followed all her movements. The way the lingered on her, the way his eyes followed her, how his focus was only on her, it didn't move nor shift. The footage showed how Bruce didn't watch with the cold stare what he had reserved for the criminals or the nights of work. It showed the brighter side.

There wasn't a fight, a crime scene, a chase with the criminals, no action. Just a moment of Bruce's real life, the shared intimate moment filled with the awkwardness and adoration inbetween each other. His usual cold behavior and confidence was replaced by this... Nearly shy, boyish behavior.

Alfred knew that under the footage, there was a smile hidden. A genuine one, not a one given to the cameras. A rare one.

He couldn't quite remember when was the last time Bruce has genuinely smiled like that, especially with a presence of someone else. It was an unique moment to be treasured.

The video played, the red colors shining onto the butler's face as he watched the video play. The woman tilts her head, her arms holding her things even tighter as another chuckle escapes her lips.

Then he heard it. Bruce's breathy laugh sounded in the video, as his head hangs down, his eyes adverting from the woman. The awkwardness breaking into something even more. It sounded natural, genuine. He knew Bruce for nearly his whole life, he knew that it was hard and and difficult for him to open up, let anyone in and hear him out. But this moment, it has changed everything, it was like Bruce was someone else. He had taken that one step that Alfred had always pushed him to take.

A smile tugs onto his lips as he watches the woman slowly take steps backwards, her cheeks brightly colored with a pink color. He couldn't believe that this was his Brice, talking to someone else than him and the common rich men and women he has to speak with other times.

The video ends with Bruce's hand in the view as he waves to the woman, who is already in the building.

It feels different one. The cave feels different. Alfred feels different. It's the same but also different... Everything seemed different at the moment.

The Prince of Gotham, Gotham's Billionaire, the one always hidden in his tower, no emotions showed on his pale face. The straight put answers with no hint of emotions in his voice, to this moment of shared awkward little smiles and conversations.

It was perfect.

With a final look at the footage, Alfred moved towards the elevator that Bruce took some moments ago. A sigh, once again, escapes his lips as he leans onto the cane he holds. His steps echoing in the cave.

He steps into the elevator and leans his back against the wall of it. The elevator began to rise as he pushed the button. The cave disappeared beneath the shadows and darkness as he was carried upstairs to the soft lights of the tower.

Alfred finally saw a different side of the young master. A different path. A one where the the young boy could step out of the way of darkness, where he hides within it, into a something softer, warmer. Something real.

Something human.

"Ring! Ring! Wake up, princess!" a voice pulls you out of the dreamy slumber you fell into. Work has been so exhausting the whole day. The amount of paperworks you had to check through, give to others, run around the building to get old ones, new ones. The amount of papers you've seen today is absurd.

Angus is standing infront of you. His wide toothy white smile on his face. The blonde hair slicked back with two straids falling on the side. Round glasses are perched on top of his nose. He's wearing a pastel brown suit jacket and a brighter pastel colored suit pants. A white button up underneath, with a black suit-tie with goldenish stripes peeking out.

"Fuck... What time is it?" you murmured out, pulling your head up from the table. Scretching your arms into the air as you lean back into the chair. Your hands fumbling over the mess of paperworks on the table, trying to find the hidden phone burried underneath all of them.

"It's nearly seven... But that's not the point, princess. You were supposed to send out the emails for the marketing shit that our boss is having... Like, two hours ago?" He leaned onto the doorframe and put his hand onto his side as he eyed you.

Two half-lidded blinking eyes stared back at him. Not awake enough to process the things he's saying.

You hummed as you slid away from the table on the chair. You spun around once and turned back to him and stared at the blonde man.

"And... I really need you to send out those emails! At the end of the day, at least, so we can finally finalize the last parts of the marketing thing! You know how angry Daniel gets if the—" He kept going, oblivious to the fact that the girl hasn't been listening to him for the whole time.

"Yeah! Got it! But first, let me just sleep for like... Five more minutes? I'll get back to it, Angie." You yawned and leaned your head onto the headrest of the chair. Your eyes closing. The weight of the whole day was coming back onto you, the exhaustion taking over once again.

There was a long pause between you, until it was interrupted by Angus clearing his throat awkwardly into the moment.

"Also," he began saying as he walked into the office and halfly sat onto your desk. His voice and tone sounding different than moments ago.

"Why the fuck did Bruce Wayne take you home few days ago?"

Your eyes snapped open at that sentence. Your whole body shooting up from the chair, making it slide back into the wall behind you. Your stomach twisted and heart skipped a beat.

Your hands went up to your head as you stared back at him with widened eyes. Your hands cluthing at your hair as you vividly remembered the night before. The night you met Bruce Wayne. The night he literally drove you home.

"Girl, don't look at me that way! That man literally picked you up bridal style, asked where exactly you lived and then he proceeded to walk out with you in his arms like in some fucking rom-com!" He threw his hands up into the air, his toothy smile back on his face as he spoke loudly.

"You saw that..." You mumbled as you turned around and walked around the office with your hands on your head. You couldn't believe the fact, that he carried you! In bridal style! And Into his car!

"Yeah, I fucking did! What the hell is going on in your damned life?" He spoke as he watched you pace around the office.

"Also, since when are you two on a fucking first-name and get-carried-home-like-a-fucking-disney-princess basis with the Gotham's billionaire prince?" His grin widened even more. Clearly enjoying this situation than you.

You rubbed your eyes hardly as you processed what he was currently saying to you. You weren't even hundred percent sure why he needed those archive files, let alone sure why he literally decided to personally carry you home. It didn't make any sense to you at the moment.

"I guess, he just felt bad leaving me alone asleep down there? He was just a client, he was there for work!" You shrugged your shoulders, trying to play it off while your thoughts were screaming and rumbling in your head.

"Right. Sure! That fucking explains why he was so kind enough to ask where you live and scoop you up like a damn damsel in distress. Jesus Christ!" He raised his voice as he threw his hands into air once again, "totally normal worker-client relationship stuff, yeah!"

"Okay, listen! I fell asleep, he picked me up, I don't know else I promise! When I woke up I was already in his car." You groaned as you walked back to your chair and fell into it, sliding even further against the wall.

"C'mon, princess! Bruce Wayne doesn't just show up out of nowhere and carry people home for fun!" He scoffed as he leaned towards you on top of your desk, that he's currently sat on top of.

You groaned once more and laid back into the chair, "Can we not? Please? I'm too tired for this."

Another scoff came out of Angus and he jumped off the desk and walked over to be in front of you, "Oh no, princess. I need answers! You don't just fall asleep at work and then wake up being carried by the Gotham's Prince, girl." He chuckled as he leans onto the side of her desk.

"Oh my god." He suddenly whispered. His mouth dropping open and hands coming to hold himself against the desk behind him.

"Are you secretly dating Bruce Wayne?"

The question came the most unexpected. His whole stance was stoic like he suddenly came to realization. Like a chikd discovering that it was their parents putting money under their pillow, not a tooth fairy. His eyes widened and mouth dropped.

"What the fuck?" You opened your eyes and started laughing loudly. Your hands coming in front of your mouth as you let out all your laughter.

"Okay, sorry, I just don't get it! But some of us wake up with fucking paperworks sticked to our faces or keyboard marks all over our faces. You wake up in car of a billionaire!" His eyes were practically bulging out of his head as he spoke. His hands gesturing around in the air.

"Do you realize how insane you sound, Angie?" You cannot comprehend all the wild theories coming out of mouth. He's fully in his own world with those theories.

"No, listen! What if he's testing you out for a new job at some high position at the Wayne Enterprises? No, no, no... Maybe, he's planning to make you his new secret muse! Or maybe, he thinks you're, like, the best new face of Vogue couple cover! Like... Imagine the headlines; The billionaire Bruce Wayne in relationship with an unknown girl—"

"I will pretend I never heard what just left your mouth." You breathe out as you slide your chair to him, pushing at his knees to get him off your desk. Your hands slapping his thighs.

"Sorry, princess. But there's no chance, that we're done talking about this!" He finally jumps off the desk and walks around towards the door, he touches the door frame and takes a last look at you with that toothy grin of his... And then he's gone.

The office is quiet once again. Some of the paperworks ended up crumbled as he was sat atop of. With an exhausting sigh, she drops her head against the desk and it lads with a thump!

It was late now. The office has gone even more quiet than usually. You were packing up, shoving the paperworks, files and the dark-purple colored folder into your bag. Already excited to go run through the door and go straight home, leave the day behind.

As you put the final folder into your bag a soft knock came from the doorway.

Your head snapped up to see the person. Your breath suddenly getting caught in your throat as you recognized the man, who just knocked on the office doorframe.

Standing there is the devil himself, Bruce Wayne.

He stood there, his arm up at the place of the doorframe, where he knocked onto few seconds before. As you looked at him, you could see his posture was different than last time. Less professional. His presense wasn't commanding and calm, but more of a hesitant one. His eyes scanning around the office and then landing back onto you.

He was wearing a white button-up shirt with a matching tie, underneath a dark buttoned suit vest. On top of it was a brown leather jacket. It was so much different outfit than the last time you saw him. His pants were baggier, but not as baggy as others wear. The top of his shoes were peeking out from the bottom of his pants.

You slowly stood up back to your height and blinked at the sight.

"Mr. Wayne— What... What are you doing here?" You stammered out with a quick clear of throat. Shifting on your weight slightly as you eyed the visitor.

"I'm about to return these," he said, mentioning his chin towards the files in his arms, "I borrowed them few days ago... From archives."

Your eyes flickered down to the files and realization came over you. He had actually taken some of the files home from the archives, probably already taken copies of them. You still wondered why he needed those archive files, when they haven't been updated nor opened in years.

"Oh! Those files! Thank you, Mr. Wayne!" you spoke as you flicked him a soft smile and walked over to take the files from his hands.

As you walked to him, he slowly entered the office, his gaze flickering around as if he was trying to find something interesting to gawk at other than you. But he couldn't find anything else, his gaze flickered back onto you and his eyes burned holes into yours.

"So," you began as you reached for the files, "did you find what you needed in them?"

"Yes, I did. Thank you." He paused and let go of the files as you took them from his hands. As the files fell right into your hands, the dust went flying around. Your face scrunching up as the dusk flew around.

"These are, like, ancient! Right?" A chuckle escaped your lips as you rambled, "I mean, woah. How are they still holding up? Looks like they would turn into dust as well!" You rambled more as you held onto the files.

His lips quirked into a little soft smile, his gaze on you, watching your every move. He leaned onto his leg as he stood in front of you.

"Yeah," he said softly, after a longer pause, he added "Are you embarrassed?"

Your heart felt like it stopped for a brief moment as those words left his mouth. Your eyes widened and your fingers gripped the dusty yellow papered files. "W-What? No. Why would I—" You stuttered out and then sighed, "Okay, maybe a little bit."

He raised an eyebrow at that, the faint smirk coming onto his face with a hint of amusement in it, "because of the files?"

A chuckle came out of your mouth at that, your mind was racing at this conversation, unsure what to say and what to not say. You could feel the color heating up on your cheeks. Your eyes moving everywhere but at him.

"I just didn't expect you to literally, you know! Carry me out of archives and then drive me home!" you said, your vocie mixed with embarrassment and awkwardness. It came flooding at you, the embarrassment of him, Bruce fucking Wayne, lifting you and carrying you like some helpless little figure, while you were asleep!

Your fingers were fumbling with the ends of the files and papers sticking out of them. Trying to distract yourself from this snd save yourself from another embarrassment. Your heart was pounding hardly in your chest, you hoped he couldn't hear it.

After a long pause, he finally spoke.

"You were exhausted." He said, almost in shy manner, "I couldn't just leave you there, asleep by yourself in the archives."

You chuckled nervously and shifted on your legs, "Still, I don't usually wake up to be driven home in billionaire's car!" A nervous chuckle escaped your lips.

He let out a soft laugh as well, "Well, you looked exhausted. I didn't want to wake you up and tell you to walk back... You needed the rest."

You felt a wave of relief come over you.

"Well. Thank you, Mr. Wayne," you said softly, "I was mortified when I woke up in your car, but... I appreciate it. Thank you." You smiled up at him, your eyes meeting his.

His gaze was soft, a little smile on his lips, his eyes held yours as he stared down. Then, with a small nod of his head, he said, "You don't need to be embarrassed. It's the least I could do. You work hard."

"I guess I do, Mr. Wayne. Maybe, you know... I should leave the office at time, huh?" You chuckled at that, smile plastered on your face.

"That would be nice," Bruce nods with a chuckle. Both of you shared a soft laugh. Both of you genuinely smiling at each other. The tension between them easing.

"I should get going." He says with a sigh as he stands back straight. His hands coming to his jacket to straight it out. His eyes leaving yours.

You smiled and nodded with a little 'yeah, me too.'

It felt surreal at that moment. You and Bruce Wayne talking once again. You knew that Angus will storm into your office once again and ask tons of questions about this.

As he leaves, he gives you a small glance and a small smile. And then he's gone. Not in your sight anymore. Your hands are sweaty against the files and you feel like your legs are wobbly. The sound of his footsteps fading down the hallfway as he leaves.

Another realization came drawing over you, his voice. His tone. The softness of his voice today, not demanding like the last time. Today it was near, of a shy one. A slight hesitation in his voice. That send a warmth all over your body, your cheeks gaining the redish colour once again. Flushed all over again.

You, finally, forced yourself to move. You turned around and dropped the dusty files onto your desk, sighing as you did so. The dust flying everywhere around the office. You slumped into your chair, sliding few steps back, staring blankly at the files he returned. It felt strange. He was just a client. He was there for work.

Right?

With a quick glance around your office, you stood up and pushed the chair back to its place. Grabbing your back and slinging it over your shoulder with a huff. There was no point of staying there longer, processing the day. You can do that home!

The building was already quiet, The only loud thing at the moment was your own mind. Your thoughts racing each other.

You stepped out of the office, locking it behind yourself. Your steps were wuick as you left the building into the cold breeze, it felt nice though. Cooling down the redness in her cheeks. Pulling the coat tighter around you as you walk down the pavement towards the nearest entrance of subway.

Your steps were quick, the heels clicking with each step you take. Almost hurriedly. Your thoughts were everything as you processed the day.

You walked around the entrance of the subway, nearly colliding with another man coming out of the entrance. You neay fall into him, making him let out an angry 'Watch where you go, damnit!"

A soft apology leaves your lips as you descend the stairs down to the subway. You fumble with the subway card as you tap it absentmindedly before you go through the turnstile. You go to the side where you would be getting on in few minutes. You lean against one of the cold pillars on the station as you wait. The station is pretty quiet for the night, not many people there.

The screech of an incoming train snaps you out of your racing thoughts. You quickly push yourself off the pillar and come to stand at the end of the line, waiting for the train to srrive at its position. Quickly pushing the button to open the doors as you move inside. Thankfully found a seat alone. You plump down onto it with a sigh as you lean yourself onto it. The doors close with a loud sound and the train moves, leaving into the dark tunnels of underground Gotham.

By the time the train reached your stopc, you were hurriedly out. Walking straight to your apartment.

Unknown to the man following your every step, perched on top of one of the buildings in the darkness, invisible in the shadows of Gotham.

To you the day ended, ready to sleep it all off. But for him, it just began.

NOTE FOR OUTFITS :)

what angus is wearing >>> angus' outfit

what bruce is wearing >>> bruce's outfit (with less baggier pants though)

౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆

part twooooo is here:) i hope you like as much as i did writing it! sorry for the wait xx

give it some love if u liked it thank uu <3

[mixtape-racha]

boyfriend!han jisung thoughts

in a hanji brainrot again sorry guys | sfw and nsfw below the cut

warnings: idol!jisung, references to perv!jisung, mention of having a period, breeding kink, face sitting, vibrating underwear, "mommy", mention of nudes // minors dni, 18+

sfw:

boyfriend!jisung who learns to paint nails so he can do the hand that you struggle with (as long as you promise to paint his in return)

boyfriend!jisung who tries to teach you to play guitar just to have an excuse for you to sing/play him to sleep for once (he's only half joking, he loves singing you to sleep so much)

boyfriend!jisung who sends you home with a stack of his hoodies and shirts before he goes on tour, along with a travel size bottle of his cologne so they'll always smell of him

boyfriend!jisung who takes you to build-a-bear every anniversary so you can expand your ever-growing collection of matching bears dressed like each other

boyfriend!jisung who makes you order extra pickles on your burgers so he can steal them, especially if you don't like pickles

boyfriend!jisung who facetimes your parents/siblings at least once a month because they're his family too now and he needs to stay caught up on any gossip they have

boyfriend!jisung who forces felix to help him make brownies when he knows you're having a bad day or are on your period, even if he eats half of them before he even gets to your place

boyfriend!jisung who dedicates at least one songs to you each concert after your relationship is announced, and always updates stay about you on bubble because he wants them to love you as much as he does

boyfriend!jisung who has all your fast-food and coffee orders on a note in his phone so he'll never forget and can surprise you with your favourites whenever he feels like it

boyfriend!jisung who kicks everyone out of the dorm so you can have a movie night at his once every few months and pretends to complain when you want to watch twilight even though he secretly loves it

nsfw:

boyfriend!jisung who cums in his pants the first time you grind on him while making out because he's so obsessed with you that he can't help himself

boyfriend!jisung who convinced you to try sex chocolates with him, found out he has a breeding kink, and got kicked out by chan and told to stay at yours for a week because of noise complaints

boyfriend!jisung who steals your favourite underwear to take with him on tour so he has something of yours to jerk off into while you whimper in his ear from the other side of the phone

boyfriend!jisung who begged you to give him hickies in the shape of a heart on his chest because he thought it was cute, but ended up horny every time he saw himself in the mirror

boyfriend!jisung who lets you cockwarm him while he's in the studio because having you close helps him focus, and also because he can buck up into you whenever he feels like it

boyfriend!jisung who loooooves you sitting on his face - anytime, anywhere. the practice room, the living room of the dorm, a hotel room he's supposed to be sharing with changbin. literally anywhere, especially if there's a chance you'll get caught

boyfriend!jisung who gives you vibrating underwear to wear to dinner with the group, getting lost in the way you try and hide the clenching of your thighs, flushing of your face, and trembling as you finally cum with your head against his shoulder

boyfriend!jisung who called you mommy as a joke, but now its like... a thing. he really likes it, and will text/tell you "mommy, please" the second he pops a boner or feels needy

boyfriend!jisung who gets so overwhelmed when he's inside you that he starts drooling into your neck and babbling nonsense as he tries not to cum before he moves

boyfriend!jisung who has all you nudes and videos you've sent him, or taken together, in his hidden folder on his phone, and his favourite picture of you choking on his cock as an alternative lockscreen (not his usual one though) just because he loves seeing you all drooly with your makeup running and tears streaming down your face

taglist: join taglists here @pretty-racha @chubbyanarkiss @taeriffic @mits-vi @chanssmiles @5kayzee @queen-klarissa @torixx80 @fawnpeaks @bangtanmix73 @savluvsmingi @boi-bi-ahaha @bunniie0325

[missdawnandherdusk]

The Confession

The Case The Defendant The Witness

The Auror

Summary: When you talk to Draco again, things that were meant to stay hidden come to light as this case wears you thin.

A/n: Well here it is my loves, some more Draco interaction. Curious to know your thoughts about the nuances of if Draco can be condemned for killing Dumbledore because of his plans. And what do you guys think about Harry? Did he kill Voldemort? Even with the rebound spell what about destroying the horcruxes?

“Shit.” I took breath and drew my wand, aperating to the Manor. I flew up the front steps and knocked on the door.

Draco was there waiting for me. 

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” I breathed out. “I got caught up in a meeting and—thank you for waiting.” I composed myself throwing on a fake smile. 

“Are you… okay?” His grey eyes held concern. There was something so different about his gaze and Harry’s. I wondered if it would be enough to prove innocence. 

“I’m fine.” I said, entering the grand house. “Did you get a chance to look over the case again?”

“I did.”

“Good good,” I muttered. “I have some questions for you if that’s alright.” 

“Y/n, are you okay?” He asked again as I searched my bag for a spare quill. I left my other at Harry’s office. 

“Yeah,” I said simply. 

His face pinched in thought like he didn’t believe me. Which was ridiculous. I was fine. Even if I wasn’t it wasn’t for him to worry about. I had a job to do. I had a case to close, and I might just have to fight the infamous Harry Potter to close it. I was fine. 

Everything was peachy. 

He offered me a seat in a small sitting room the disappeared for a moment. When I had finally found my spare quill and gotten my file out he returned with a tray of tea and biscuits as well as the folder I had left him last week. He set the tray down and opened the folder. 

“I have some notes and questions too,” Draco said, taking the other seat. “If that’s okay.” 

I nodded and watched the tea magically pour itself.

“Cream and sugar?”

“Two of both,” I said. “Please,”

An amused smile played at his lips as he complied. 

Don’t let him fool you. Harry’s words echoed in my mind. My mood soured again. 

“What? Did I do it wrong?” Draco asked concerned. 

“No, no the tea is fine.” I said, rubbing my face. “Thank you,” 

“Y/n—“ he tried again but I wouldn’t let him. I could not. He didn’t need to care. 

“So, I have a couple of questions.” I cut him off quickly. 

“Of course,” he resigned. I let out a soft sigh. 

“Tell me about the day here, at the Manor. When Potter and his friends escaped.”  

“What do you want to know?” He asked kindly. 

“Um,” I paused. “Harry disarmed you and took your wand then correct?” 

“Yes,” 

“Okay. And… When they brought Harry in, and asked you to identify him—you didn’t. You denied you knew who it was.” 

“I did.” 

“Did you know?” I asked out of my own curiosity. “That it was Harry?” 

“When you spend six years being loathed by someone, you don’t soon forget the hatred in their eyes,” Draco said quite cryptically. I thought back to my conversation with Harry and those green eyes that still held the same hate. I nodded in agreement. 

“So you knew it was him?” I set down my quill and looked at him. 

“I did,” 

“But you didn’t tell them?” I didn’t know why I was so caught up on this. 

“No,” 

“Why?” 

“Does it matter?” He asked a little skeptical. 

“Um… I don’t know,” My eyes met soft grey ones. Then I knew the difference: it might not have mattered to the case, but it mattered to me. 

“Well, if it does, let me know,” Draco said as of it were the easiest topic in the world. 

“Okay. Um. Can you tell me about that day in the tower. What happened?” 

“I killed Dumbledore.” 

For some reason his words made me furious. 

“No you didn’t.” I shot back without thinking. Draco looked affronted. I composed myself taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry. Please continue,” 

He nodded, and I could see his walls go back up. My temper had just ruined everything. Draco talked about our sixth year of Hogwarts and things I vaguely remembered. Katie Bell being cursed, Ron Weasley being poisoned. The raid on the castle. 

“I let them in,” He said with his head hung. “I let them into Hogwarts. Into our home. I killed Dumbledore.” 

I wanted to comfort him, but I knew that I shouldn’t. And Harry’s stupid words were still at the forefront of my mind. Was Draco really this manipulative? Was he fooling everyone? Was I fooling myself? 

“Draco, your wand didn’t cast the killing curse. It never cast any Unforgivable.” I said simply, keeping my temper in check. 

“I was tasked by the Dark Lord to kill Dumbledore,” Draco whispered. “I hurt so many people. I was so scared, Y/n.” 

“That doesn’t mean that you killed him.” 

“Doesn’t it?” He looked at me desperately. “Whether or not my wand cast the spell, I am responsible for his death.” 

“That’s not the same thing.” I said weakly. It was all so nuanced I didn’t know how to explain the difference. Maybe there wasn’t one after all. 

But, when he met my eyes, his stare held only sorrow and regret. Lofty and flowing in waves. 

“I’m sorry—I…” Draco shook his head as if he wanted to rid himself of the words we had spoken. 

Silence fell between us. 

“You said you had questions for me?” I recalled, changing the subject before it suffocated us both.  

“Yes, well, just one,” He said, reserved. 

“Go ahead.” I gave him my attention. 

“Why is this so important to you?” His eyes put me on trial. My eyes widened in shock. 

“Does it matter?” I quickly got defensive. “We’re going to see this through.”

“Why?” He stressed. “The case has been open for years and no one’s batted an eyelash. Why do you care so much?” 

“It doesn’t matter.” I bit, standing. He stood too. 

“Y/n. Why.” He towered over me. We were two strong holds opposing each other. 

“It doesn’t matter to you why.” I stressed each word. 

“I’ll decide what matters to me.” 

I stepped away from him. Reserved and cold my eyes focused on the files scattered on the mahogany table next to our tea and biscuits. 

“If I don’t close this case—“ the words were like stones. “My future is gone.” My gaze met his. “Everything I’ve worked for in the past six years is gone. I fail. My board. My exams. Everything. Gone. I never get to be a pubic defender. I never get to help people.” His defense faltered but mine didn’t. “So tell me. Does that matter to you? Do I matter to you?” 

He hung his head and I had my answer. 

“We’re done here. I’ll be in contact later this week.” I didn’t even bother to gather the scattered papers. 

“Y/n wait,” Draco called. Despite my best efforts, I paused. “Come back on Friday.” He said. 

I nodded once then aperated home. 

.

The Deceased

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masterlist

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@coffee-addicti @msmcsmutt @ravn-87 @artemismohr18@whygz@crazywritingbug @bitemebro522 @zombiesnips-blog@savingdraco  @akari180 @slytherin-emerald @queenfeatherwings @fanficflaneuse @go-whovian-universe @spicyshenanigans @darling-im-not-okay-i-promise @katsukink @takemetothekingdom @strangerr-things @tmnt-queen@hxneybgb @belcvayelena @moviesbooksandfandoms   @cocochanelthepupper @ninacotte @braelynn-johnston  @jiggllyy @darcypotter-blog  @thiccheerioss@lottie289 @beautiful-pegasus@tceedlmao @anonymous034 @bi-andready-tocry @dragonsandbread @the-queen-of-hell-things @alienmotel  @oh-itsnothing @sunflowerxsadnessw @fattycooter @fanficsigottaread @gweaslvy @strawberriesonsummer @gaysludge @ray-of-sunrise @artist-bby @shadowsingeraxolotl @quillsareforwriting @wollymalfoy @lilpieceoftoast @paper-cats @floweryjh @hufflautia @livize75 @annie-mcl @riathearora @dudeimnotgonnakms @auriuswolve @carolineesnell

[heresthestorymorningglory]

Together Bound In Madness - Part 3

Summary: So close, yet so far...

A/N: This particular piece of work wasn’t meant to see the light of day and live its life in my WIP folder…it was supposed to….

Then I mentioned to @ken-dom that I might share and well…here we are…what can I say y'all? She’s mad encouraging and I love her dearly for it. Without her none of these would exist.

As always, this NSFW 18+ and has a few extra warnings attached; a kidnapping trigger warning being the biggest one, this part also includes a physical assault trigger,

The title comes from the Marianas Trench song The Killing Kind

Y'all should know by now I rarely post one shots…..so yeah, this will be multiple parts….I’m just not sure on the final tally yet. You can find previous parts here.

Enjoy my loves! <3 

You had sat on his bed after changing your clothes, he’d had every intention of making sure you were comfortable, but when he looked up from digging in the first aid kit to bandage your ankles, you had fallen asleep propped against the headboard. 

He got to his feet and pulled the covers on the bed back fully before gently shifting you to lie down. You hadn’t even stirred. He bandaged your ankles as he’d initially intended before he pulled the strip of soft fabric he’d had tied around your wrists earlier from the back pocket of his jeans and gently tied your wrists together. He produced another strip of fabric and did the same to your ankles. 

He wasn’t 100% confident you wouldn’t still try to leave if he’d left you to sleep. 

You had been so quiet, and so scared; he couldn’t imagine how awful it would have been for you had it been someone else, someone truly evil. 

He covered you with the duvet as you turned over in your sleep; you looked so peaceful, a stark contrast to earlier this evening. He pressed a gentle kiss to your temple, here you were safe, here you were cared for, here he could protect you.  God you were beautiful; especially in his clothes. Sleeping soundly in his bed; comfortable and safe. 

He found a spare pillow from the linen closet and pulled the blanket off the back of the couch, locking the door before settling into the soft cushions. 

***

You gasped, startling yourself awake. The bed smelled different, because it wasn't yours. 

You squeezed your eyes shut wishing this had been some lucid fever dream. The ties on your wrists and ankles confirmed otherwise. 

Your heart raced as reality came flooding back. 

The apartment was dark, and it was still dark outside; you were still dead tired, you couldn’t have been asleep for more than a couple of hours. You could see the outline of his sleeping form on the couch, snoring softly. 

Your own bedroom was on the other side of the wall; all you had to do was get there. Get inside and lock the door. 

You stayed lying on your side, pretending to be asleep in case he woke up, your teeth pulling gently on the fabric bound around your wrists. It felt like it was taking you a lifetime, he had been careful not to tie it against your bandages, but the knot was tight. Finally, you felt it start to come loose, making the hole big enough to pull one wrist free and then the other. 

You sat up, slowly, careful not to draw attention to yourself, watching the silhouette on the couch for any sign of movement. You pulled your knees against your chest under the duvet, keeping your working hands hidden as they picked at the knot. It finally came loose and you pulled your feet free. 

He hadn’t moved, but he was still between you and the door. You consider getting on your hands and knees and crawling to the door, but on the off chance he was awake, or woke up, you could run faster. You hadn’t seen any trace of your phone since leaving work, and you weren’t about to go searching for it. You pushed back the duvet and climbed out of the bed, walking as quietly and as lightly as your bare feet would carry you. You approached the end of the couch where his feet had been, he still had work boots on, his head was turned away from you as he breathed deeply; his arms folded over his chest. You practically held your breath, not daring to make a sound as your crept past. You watched over your shoulder for any sign of movement until you reached the door. Gripping the deadbolt between your thumb and finger, you turned it slowly, biting down hard on your lip waiting for the click. You squeezed your eyes shut as the lock made a loud clunk in your hand. Your hand moved to the door knob, gripping it hard enough to make your hand ache, still listening intently over your shoulder for any sign of movement as you heard the latch click softly. Still holding your breath, you pulled the door open slowly, praying to god it wasn’t going to creak. The light from the hallway was impossibly bright; you didn’t dare open the door any further than you needed to to fit yourself though. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears as you inched your way out into the hallway and pulled the door shut agonizingly slowly to avoid any noise. 

Your whole body shook with a combination of fear and adrenaline as your eyes quickly scanned the hallway, empty. You ran to your own apartment door, standing on tiptoes, your shaky fingers frantically feeling for the spare key you kept on the ledge. Your fingers slid along the entire length, nothing. Your key was gone. 

“Fuck, fuck fuck” you whispered dropping back down on your heels. 

You ran your tongue between your lips, letting out a shaky breath. You turned on your heel as a shadow darkened the hallway. 

“No!’ you gasped, your scream was muffled as his hand clamped over your mouth, squeezing your jaw hard, his other arm wrapping tightly around your midsection as you dug your heels into the carpet, to no avail.  Your feet slid against the floor uselessly as you twisted in his grip; he was a lot stronger than you thought, a lot stronger than he looked. 

He dragged you thrashing and screaming down the hall back to his apartment. You watched the door swing shut with a loud thump. 

He dragged you to the centre of the room, before dropping you on your back a heavy boot landing next to your hip as he loomed over you, trapped between his feet.  

You sat up to scoot yourself backwards in an attempt to get some distance between you. 

A half step and he has easily closed that distance again.  

You looked up at him and his blue eyes flared with anger before you felt a hot sting across your cheek, his leather gloves making it hurt twice as much as a bare hand. 

You gasped, crying hard, your own hand flying to cup your cheek.  

You screamed in frustration as you sat on the floor, you hugged your knees to your chest. 

“What do you want from me?!” The break in your voice betraying your anger. Your cheek burning as you sniffed, dropping your head again, a tear dripping off the end of your nose. 

Your shoulders shook as you broke down sobbing, not sure what else to do. You wrapped your arms around your knees, hugging them tightly. 

You jumped as he brushed a piece of hair off your face before slapping his hand away. 

He caught your wrist squeezing hard, making you cry out as he squeezed against the raw skin under the gauze. 

He hadn't seemed to notice, he simply yanked you to your feet and threw you down on the bed. He grabbed your hands together in one of his, producing a length of rope from seemingly out of nowhere. He seemed totally unbothered by your kicking and screaming. He straddled your hips, his weight heavy on your middle as he secured the other end of the rope to the rungs on his headboard. 

You pulled hard, but it was in vain as it only caused the rope to bite into your skin. You dropped your arms as much as your restraints would allow with a huff, glaring at him. “I know you’re not a fucking mute, why won’t you talk to me?” you snapped and as you expected, your question went unanswered.

[spirit-speaking]

⭒ In the Waning ⭒

Fatality/Journey: DAY 3 @daily-writing-challenge

‘You'll never learn if you don't try and attempt it. It takes practice, my little sparrow. Do not be afraid of failure, the only thing to fear is the regret of not trying.’ Odessa’s words still lingered in Valeria’s head as she sat at Vahalia’s desk working through the folders and ledgers that had been left in her care.

Over several months Valeria had learned plenty from her sister, ever since returning from the Gray homestead in Coerthas she had taken more of an apprentice role, learning how to read the ledgers and categorize the paperwork, fencing three times a week and balancing books right down to finances and documenting everything for her sister’s return – whenever that might have been.

A small sigh left her and her mismatched eyes glanced around the large office space. How lonely it was beginning to feel with just her, Annette, and Wyland within the estate in Ishgard. The more quiet it was, the more it left her mind to wander. Since her near-fatal accident over a year ago, Valeria had been through waves of varying heights. Recollecting lost memories, bridging relationships all over again and trying to keep what relationships she did foster, thriving.

It was all for naught. Some could argue that the journey was fulfilling for her, as it allowed her to find herself and learn of the things she missed out on during her separation from Vahalia nearly five years ago.

Still, part of her lingered on what her life might have been like had she not returned….

What if she still stayed in Coerthas to wait for Damien? Would she have been in a better position?

Her idle hand reached for the long chain that hung from her neck, the hidden ring that hung secretly at her bosom just under the blouse of her attire. 

What was she waiting for -- some sort of grandiose return?

Ricard abandoned her which in time brought her to witness him moving on with none other than Damien’s sister-in-law. No, her half-sister.

Her clutch on the cold ring tightened and she lowered her head, eyes closed as she tried to remember Damien’s face, his smell, the way his closeness often made her feel safe…

Why did she only come to know loss?

She hadn’t been prepared for it and not knowing what to do with the harbored pain and resentment that nestled into her core. Valeria kept it all in, rising each day to tend to the tasks of the household, tasks she knew she would have to some day learn so that she would be all the wiser when leading her own household someday and each time she ilmed closer to that role she found herself being left empty handed.

“I wonder how she does it…” she whispered to herself, her eyes looking over the collective of work along the desk. So many times she had wanted to have her sister’s strength and to rebuild herself from the ashes of the past; to feel somehow empowered with the stones thrown at her.

Amazingly Vahalia seemed to take each and rebuild a fortress around her. Untouchable, powerful, people were naturally drawn to her despite her rather mysterious and dark nature.

Once more the lines ‘You'll never learn if you don't try and attempt it. Do not be afraid of failure, the only thing to fear is the regret of not trying.’ came back to her and she looked to the necklace in her grasp. She wanted to do better and be better, like Vahalia. She wanted even just a small sliver of Vahalia’s capability.

It was no good to dwell on the past. She would have to forge her own way, find her own path and stick to it.

New experiences, new rules or the lack thereof, new boundaries and new standards. 

She needed to have expectations.

Valeria’s fingers curled firmly around the chain and she plucked it forcefully from her neck, with determination set in her eyes she held her hand over the wastebin beside her and dropped the piece within.

There was no going back. A sparrow with wings clipped by the flames, she would have to either give up and burn or become impervious to the fire and walk it.

[pastafossa]

Valentine’s (Matt Murdock x F!Reader, Fic, SFW)

I CHANGED MY MIND AND HAD A BURST OF INSOMNIA/ENERGY SO I WENT INTO MY EDITING FOLDER AND FIXED IT UP, HAVE A SLIGHTLY BELATED VALENTINE’S DAY FIC FOR TRT SET ON WHATEVER IS THEIR FIRST SUPER RELAXED VALENTINE’S.

Rating: T for SMOOCHIN and TOOTH ROTTING FLUFF Wordcount: 1729 Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader Warnings: None except THE AFOREMENTIONED FLUFF, they are SICKENINGLY IN LOVE AND ROMANTIC ESPECIALLY MATT, you will be SICK I SAY If you have NOT read my massive saga The Red Thread aka the Daredevil Fic Longer Than The King James Bible, all you need to know is that Ciro is your adopted Mobster dad who took you in when you ran away from some bad folks.

Now let’s have some Matt fluff.

You woke to the warm, rich scent of pancakes and coffee, and the sound of a mug being placed gently on your nightstand.

The sheets rustled next, warmth sliding up over you in bed, and you sighed happily when you felt the gentle brush of his lips against your temple. Those lips traveled down slowly, meandering kisses planted affectionately against your skin, paired with low rumbles of sound as he dragged his nose along your cheek. You hummed, sleepily fumbling one hand up to stroke fondly across his stubbled jaw, almost a full beard now. “Morning I take it?”

“Mhm.” He nuzzled at you until you sleepily tipped your head up to accept his fond kiss. The touch of his lips was nothing but glowing warmth, honey and sunlight on your tongue as he sighed, working his mouth slowly, contently against yours. You could never resist letting him kiss you like this in the soft morning light, as if all the world could take care of itself for a bit while he held you close for just a little longer. Only once he’d drunk his fill did he pull back, just far enough that he could speak, smiling at you as you ran your fingers through his hair. “Happy Valentine’s.”

“It is Valentine's, isn’t it? We actually made it in one piece this time.” Your smile grew wider and so did his as he dipped to kiss you again, your quiet huff of amusement breaking against his grin. “No disasters, no injuries. Mm, wait, you sure you’re not hurt?”

“I stayed away from bullets last night just for you,” he whispered, smirking when you let out a quiet laugh. “Nothing’s in the way today. Just you…” He kissed you again, and then again, over and over as his words dropped into a quiet purr, “...and me… All day. Being romantic.”

“Romantic? And all day?” You arched your brows at him in faux shock. “Something tells me you have a plan.”

He propped himself up with one arm, head in his hand as he smiled down at you, his dark eyes almost grey in the gentle light of morning. “I might,” he teased, his voice warm and still a little thick with sleep. “Even if I hadn’t needed to make reservations for dinner and the Ferris Wheel ride after, or buy what I needed for special pancakes this morning, I kind of needed to plan ahead to get a custom box of chocolate from See’s Candy. They get pretty busy this time of year, as you can imagine.”

Your eyes widened and your head snapped towards the bedroom doorway as if you’d somehow be able to see the familiar white box of chocolate wherever he’d hidden it away.

He… couldn’t have known. You’d never told him, not once.

“You—how did you—”

“I may or may not have spent some time on the phone with Ciro,” he admitted, the fingers of his free hand coming down to run fondly down your cheek. “He went down the menu with me so I could get all of your favorites, along with a few new flavors he thought you might like. Apparently he’s kept your list of favorites all these years.”

See’s Candy.

It was… one of the first things Ciro had encouraged you to try after pulling you off the streets. He’d escorted you into the store the second he’d seen your eyes linger on the storefront you’d both passed by a week later.

You’d never forgotten the gleaming black-and-white floors and the pure white counters, the interior constructed of crisp, clean lines, endless walls lined with shelves holding snow-white boxes and candies wrapped in shiny gold foil. Even more chocolate was on display behind the pristine glass beside the register, mountains and mountains of truffles and fudge and caramels, the air so very rich and sweet in a way you’d never experienced before.

To an escaped lab rat like you, a place like that had seemed the height of luxury after all the scrounging in dumpsters, after the years of eating a set rotation of seven meals chosen for nutrition over pleasure. And in that moment, you’d known there would never be better chocolate than what you could find there.

“I… can I… get one?”

“And which one would you like?”

“I… don’t know. I’ve never had one.”

“Then we will try all of them, I think. Everyone should have a favorite or five.”

“I haven’t had any See’s since Los Angeles,” you whispered, as Matt’s thumb swiped away a hint of wetness that had gathered at the corner of your eye. “I could never risk it. But now they’re back, like they knew I was home again. Jesus, you can’t just romantically sucker-punch me like that. A little warning, Matt.”

“I can take it back if you like—”

“Don’t you dare,” you growled as if you didn’t still have a few tears in your eyes. Matt huffed out a quiet laugh, little crinkles forming at the corner of his eyes. “This is—you keep your hands off that box unless it’s to share with me.”

He arched his brows skeptically. “You’d actually share with me?”

“With you, yes.” You shot him a look. “But anyone beyond these doors will get their hand bitten off.”

“Residents only,” he agreed with a grin, catching your hand and lifting it to his mouth, pressing his lips warmly to the engagement ring on your finger before he tangled his fingers with yours. “I’ll be sure to warn any guests. Our candy.”

“Our candy.”

“Agreed. Now,” he murmured, and though he tried to keep his voice steady, he couldn’t quite hide the eager note creeping into his voice. “Are you going to tell me what that gift under the bed is that you have all wrapped and tied with the bow?”

“I will not,” you said with a huff, ignoring his sad pout. “You don’t get that until later even if we both know that you know it’s a vinyl record. That’s the big gift, to be played after breakfast.”

And, hopefully, it would make Matt feel as good as the candy had made you feel. It wasn’t every day you managed to hunt down a record his dad had loved to play. That had taken a little work, and a few discussions of your own with Maggie, but it had paid off.

Thank God for your respective parents.

“During?” he tried hopefully.

“After.” You leaned up and kissed the tip of his nose, grinning when he immediately ducked to kiss you again. “Mm, after the pancakes. I’m not—mmph—missing out on Matt Murdock pancakes. Even better than your waffles.”

“Our waffles.Our pancakes.”

“Right, how could I forget?” you said with a grin, letting out a laugh as he rolled off you before he reached in to gather you up off the bed. “Matt, Matt—”

“It’s for the pancakes,” he said with a smirk as he lifted you up. You at least managed to clumsily snatch your mug of coffee up on the way past the nightstand. “They’re almost ready, and I’ve decided we should eat out there. We might end up back in here later, and the last thing we need is maple syrup on the sheets.”

“Heaven forbid it clash with the… the blood…”

And you lifted a hand to your mouth as Matt stepped through the door and then stopped, letting you take it in. Because draped between every last ceiling beam was…

Flowers.

Somehow, at some point, after you’d fallen asleep, Matt had apparently gone up the ladder and gotten to work. Garland after garland now hung from the ceiling wherever you looked, a riot of color splashed in shades of brilliant red and bold blue, regal purple and blazing yellow. Woven in and out of those splashes of color were green vines thick with leaves and the faint glimmer of twinkle lights until the whole of the ceiling seemed less manmade and more a forest at night, a canopy of color arranged just for you.

“They’re… they’re silk so there’s no scent to bother me,” he told you nervously, licking his lips as he awaited your reaction. “Foggy said they were colorful, and Karen put little braille labels on the petals so I could make sure I didn’t push clashing colors next to each other. I can’t… tell if that all worked out, obviously, but I thought… it felt nice. Do you… like it?”

Did you like it?

This man—

This man had literally gone up to the fucking ceiling for hours to create a romantic forestscape for you, after tracking down the chocolates you’d loved when you were sixteen, and he was still wondering…

“I know I keep saying this,” you said, your voice half-choked. “But—”

“Good tears or bad tears?” he whispered against your temple, shifting on his feet.

“Good tears. Now hush. I’m trying to compliment you.”

“Sorry.” He kissed your temple and you could feel the relieved grin break across his face, a heavy breath leaving him. “Just wanted to make sure.”

You reached up to wipe at your eyes quickly, before you smiled up at him, reaching up to cup that perfect face of his. Those dark eyes drifted around, glimmering with affection and all the love in the world you could ever want. You brought him in close until you could kiss his chin, his eyes fluttering closed. “I don’t know how you’re real,” you told him with a sigh. “But somehow you are, and you’re here with me, and it’s… the best thing to ever happen to me.”

“Even after… everything that’s—”

“I’d walk through it all again for you in a heartbeat.” You kissed him again, and this time it was his turn to draw in a shaky breath, his turn for his breath to hitch as you whispered, “In an absolute heartbeat, Matt. Never doubt that.”

And as you lay there later on the couch with him beneath a canopy of flowers, his head on your chest, an old record Jack enjoyed playing softly in the background and the scent of chocolate and home in the air, you couldn’t help but lift one hand to wipe at Matt’s cheeks, catching the bit of wetness that had dripped free.

“Good tears or bad tears?” you asked softly.

“Good,” he whispered, curling into you tighter. “I… I missed him. Thank you. I love you.”

“I love you, too. Happy Valentine’s.”

“Happy Valentine’s.”

[sashaisready]

Chapter 7a - Underestimate

Nick Fowler x Shy CIA Employee

Under the Radar Masterlist

Chapter 6 - File

Warnings: References to sex trafficking, violence and some gore descriptions, misogynistic references

(One final part to come! Thank you so much for reading/commenting/reblogging so far - it’s been so lovely seeing your reactions!)

Wordcount: 2300

“Joe….hey” you mumble, trying your best to mask your sheer terror. You figure you might as well try to feign innocence…it wasn’t likely to work…but it’s all you had.

“Can you believe it?” You surprise yourself when it comes out in a somewhat sunshiney tone that you desperately pulled from some hidden depths. “I was just going to bed and saw that report didn’t attach to my email to Walsh. So I just came in to send it…what a ditz huh?” You laugh hollowly.

He smiles. You never noticed how shark-like his smile looked until just now. How his eyes are just…empty…soulless. 

It’s clear he’s not buying it, but you continue.

“H-how about you? Burning the midnight oil?” You plaster a smile over your face. The sides of your mouth ache with the strain. 

“Sure am” he says quietly. “I get a lot of my best work done at night, actually”.

You nod. “Well…I don’t want to distract you any further. My bed is calling! I’ll see you tomorrow”.

You lurch forward towards the door but a strong arm shoots up and blocks your movement.

“Joe…” you whisper, your voice thick with fear. You’re suddenly very aware of his strength, his size. The way he looms over you. You had considered that attractive just a few hours before, but now it seems chilling.

“No. Stay”.

Your strained smile appears again. “I really shouldn’t…”

His eyes move to the folder in your hands then back to your face again. “Did I forget to file that away? Whoops. How careless of me” he smirks. “Looks like I need to brush up on my confidentiality training”.

You can’t speak. You just stare back at him, your throat drying up and your breath strangled.

He sighs dramatically. “A pity. You’ve messed up the timeline now…”

Your eyes widen as you stare back at him. “Joe…you’re…you’re part of Project Cotton?” You eke out. “How…how could you? What…”

He rolls his eyes. “Spare me the theatrics” he groans. “Now I have to accelerate things…” he picks up his phone from his pocket and begins to send a text. “Typical you, huh sweetheart? Too involved for your own good. Anyone else would’ve ignored the file…or not even come into the office at this time just to send a damn email…but of course you did. And now I gotta change the plan. Ugh…”

You’re still in shock. “Joe…how could you do this to me?” You whisper. “We’re friends…we nearly kissed-”

He laughs. “Are we friends? Or have I just thrown you a few lines to show what a good guy I am, and get you to trust me?”

You stammer, trying to respond but unable to find the words. 

“It’s easy, really. I throw out a few choice words - tell you how proud I am of you, how smart you are…and you eat it up and I get you on side. I pretend I shun the guys’ nights, stick up for you so you can see how brave I am…simple. It’s always the same with girls like you” he shrugs. 

“And then I act like I like you…but tell you we can’t be together yet cos it’s not appropriate…yada yada yada…and that means you trust me and think I have integrity because I didn’t immediately try to fuck you. But then…And sorry we’re skipping this part so you have to use your imagination…I have an epiphany! And I do want to be with you!! And when I take you out on our ‘date’ you follow me willingly wherever I tell you to because you trust me implicitly - no matter how late at night it is. And then I do the drop off, my buyer pays the full balance and poof!…I’m 50k richer”.

“You’re…you’re a monster” you shriek as you back away from him.

He shrugs. “Look…it’s nothing personal. It’s just business”.

“I have friends…family…and…and I work for the CIA!! They’ll notice I’m gone”.

He laughs cruelly. “Well, you don’t really do you? Yeah that Annie chick. But that’s kinda it. You’re perfect for this really, lonely and quiet…not many people who’d miss you. Hardly anyone even knows you exist at work…really you’re the perfect candidate”.

“No…no” you protest, your eyes streaming with tears. “Walsh…he’ll…he’ll…”

“Oh please. Walsh will do a sad email to the department or something but he’ll move on. We know how to cover our tracks, sweetheart. They won’t come looking for you”.

You bite your lip, desperately trying to think of a way out. Unable to grasp the ease with which your existence could just be forgotten about. All this time your shyness was making you the perfect victim.

“I’d been scoping you out for a while” says Joe. “And when Walsh put you on Cotton? Man! I couldn’t believe my luck” he laughed. 

“So…so…you’ve been part of Cotton this whole time?”

He nods proudly. “Sure have. Why do you think we never get anywhere? Why do you think we never got any names? Why so many bad leads led us down the garden path? It’s easy to plant bad intel if you know how…”

You stare at him open mouthed as the pieces clicked into place. “That’s why you didn’t want me working on the surveillance footage…you weren’t trying to save me the work…you didn’t want me finding anything…”

He sneers. “Ugh. Yeah that was a small setback. Walsh can be so stubborn when he’s made up his mind…and yeah catching Uncle Ray on camera was a pain in my ass…but I tipped him off and he got out in time sooo…no harm done”.

You choke on your sob. “Colebrook is your…un-uncle?”

“You got it. He met my dad at Cosmos back in the 70s and they realised they had a common interest” he grinned. “I got in on the family business early, but they realised I was much better placed somewhere that could help them. So I joined the training academy, worked my way up and here I am. Quite the side hustle, huh?” He sniggered. 

“What…trafficking women?” You hissed. 

He rolls his eyes. “Don’t use words like that…they’re so ugly. We’re just…making our members happy”.

“You piece of shit!!” You scream, lunging at him as your anger boiled to a crescendo. “How can you do this?? To innocent women?? You’re meant to be helping people!!”

He knocks you back with a single hand, then subtly pulls back his suit jacket to reveal his firearm stored in its holster. You breathe sharply.

“Let’s not do anything silly, sweetheart” he warns gravely, the threat clear. 

“Honestly, for a second I thought you were gonna figure it out when you saw my dad’s file” he laughs.

Your blood runs cold as you remembered the familiar photograph in that file. How you could’ve sworn you’d seen him before. Now it seemed so obvious, the way Joe shut it suddenly and distracted you with lunch…the similarity of features between the two or them. The same shark-like grin…

You felt a fool. A fool for walking straight into his trap.

A fool for ignoring Nick’s warning.

Oh, Nick. Did he know? Probably not. But he knew Joe wasn’t to be trusted. He had better instincts than you. You wished you could tell him how sorry you were. 

“Nick knew you were no good…” you breathed quietly.

Joe scoffed. “Oh, Fowler. Of course he did. He’s always been fond of you, you know he beat the shit out of Leigh for how he spoke about you?” He laughed.

“W-what?”

“Oh. You didn’t know? Ha! Yeah he pummelled Leigh after he insulted you that day in the office. Told him if he was ever rude about you again he’d tear him limb from limb. Why do you think Leigh creeps around you like a skittish puppy now? He’s terrified Nick will finish him off if he upsets you again. Honestly wish I’d thought of that…that would’ve won you over even quicker”.

You stared into space as you took this in, numb at this information. Nick had…defended your honour? Why didn’t he say anything? Why didn’t he just tell Leigh to shut up at the time?

“Anyway. Enough chitchat…we gotta go” Joe sighed, as if you were some tedious chore. 

“W-where?” 

“Well obviously now you know the truth I gotta get you delivered. So chop chop…”

You swallowed. “No…”

“No?” He laughed. “Sweetheart, you don’t have much of a choice here”. He flashed the gun again. “Now…are you going to come quietly or do I need to be a bit meaner?”

“You…you can’t hurt me” you stammered, as bravely as you could. “You…you need me in good shape to complete the sale”.

He chuckled. “True. But I can always give him a slight discount if the product gets damaged in transit…”

You flinched, unable to comprehend how easily he described you as an object. You feel nauseated wondering how many girls he’s done this to. How many lives he and his horrible family had destroyed. 

You suddenly felt blind rage. Hatred and anger curdled in your soul. The audacity to treat women like products. The sheer gall to run your criminal operation from a CIA office. Well, it was hiding in plain sight. Clever really, if not diabolical.

You began to walk backwards as he stalked toward you, his hand resting over his gun. “We’ve had our fun…c’mon. Let’s go”.

“Grant on the front desk knows I’m here” you hissed. “And there’s CCTV, a record of my key card swiping in…”

Joe yawned as if bored with your attempts at logic. “The security guards just switched shifts. I’ll take you out the back, put you in my car and I’ll go casually tell Ernie you rushed home feeling unwell. Then I’ll arrange a few fake sightings of you over the next few days so I wasn’t the last one to see you…oh, and I’ve tampered with the CCTV” he grinned. “The monitors will be showing a loop of the empty office. I always use it when I come here late. No trail that way”.

You gulped as you continued backing up, the cool wood of Joe’s desk hitting the back of your thighs as you realised where you were. 

He had thought of everything.

…Almost. 

Your whole life, people underestimated you. They thought quiet meant stupid. They thought shy meant you weren’t listening. That you weren’t paying attention. But you were. You always were.

Nick had underestimated you. So had Walsh to some extent. It was a pattern that had followed you for your whole life. 

Joe had underestimated you too. He thought he had you all figured out because he’d used a few nice words and pretended to care about you. He thought you were passive and meek, that you wouldn’t fight. 

If you’d learned anything from your time at the CIA, even from the periphery of the action, it was was that one of the biggest mistakes you could make was underestimating your opponent. 

It seems Joe hadn’t learned that lesson yet. 

But you would teach him. 

He grinned sinisterly as he moved towards you. You knew you only had one shot. Your body seemed to move by itself as your hands moved behind you, quickly sliding along the desk until you found what you were looking for.

“Let’s go” he growled.

Joe clasped his hands around your shoulders and ripped you away from the desk just as your fingers wrapped around the sleek metal of the letter opener you’d dropped on his desk just minutes before he found you. Now or never.

You brought it up high and slammed it at full force into his neck with all the strength that you had. It made a sickening squishing sound as it broke the skin and tore through the muscle, the blood immediate and gushing.

He let out a low howl of pain like a struck animal as he stumbled and gasped in shock, his hands leaving you immediately and moving to the wound.

You staggered back, eyes wide - not quite believing what you’d done as you looked down at your blood soaked hand. You began to run then, your legs like jelly as you attempted to round the desk and make a beeline for the exit.

“Not so fast you little bitch” he wheezed as he lunged towards you, tearing you down to the ground as you screamed and he rolled you over on your front. You laid there dazed, desperately trying to think of another plan. 

“Looks like I’ll lose a sale, but it’ll be worth it” he hissed through gritted teeth as he pulled out his gun and placed the barrel to your forehead, his limbs clumsy and heavy as he groaned in pain and the blood slowly darkened his suit. The letter opener was still in his neck, jutting out at a grotesque angle. 

You gasped and squeezed your eyes shut as the metal dug hard into your forehead. You could hear his breathing deepen painfully and tried to take solace in the hope that he might bleed out after you were dispatched. At least it wouldn’t have all been in vain. 

You felt a tear escape down your cheek as you waited for the end. You thought of Annie. You thought of your family. Even Nick. Oh, Nick. He had been so awful but you couldn’t deny how he made you feel. How much you missed him. If you had listened to him about Joe then you wouldn’t be here.

You heard the gunshot which surprised you. You thought the bullet would’ve gone into your skull before you registered the sound. But it was so loud. So loud. Your ears rung in the aftermath. You waited…but nothing happened. You heard shouting and heavy footsteps and your eyes flew open.

Joe was collapsed on the floor beside you, eyes closed but groaning. Still alive.

What…?

Then you felt the hands on your waist. Someone else. You peered up and found his bright blue irises staring back at you. He was speaking, his face twisted in fear, but you couldn’t hear the words. You just gazed up at him, trying to make sense of what happened. 

“Nick…?” You whispered. 

Chapter 7b - All of Them (Final Part)

[camaro-and-smokes]

Princess

Rating: Explicit Warnings: No warnings except smut Category: M/M Fandom: Stranger Things (TV 2016) Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington Characters: Billy Hargrove, Steve Harrington, Original male character Tags: Tattoos, Harringrove, Fluff and Smut, Shameless Smut, Oral Sex, Gay Billy Hargrove, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Boys Kissing, Gay Sex, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Billy Hargrove Redemption Words: 1538

Summary: Steve gives Billy a special gift for their 10th anniversary.

Authors note: This is my entry to @harringroveson-bingo 2022, Round 1, C3: Tattoos

::::::::::

Steve looked at the drawings on the tattoo parlor's wall.

"See anything you like?" the tattooist asked.

"Um...not really."

"I can draw you a piece if you want. You can't get it today though, you have to wait for a few days."

"I'm afraid I don't have the time. I have to get it today or not at all."

"Ok. My clients aren't usually in that much of a hurry. So, what is so urgent that you want it done right now?"

"It's a gift to someone. For an anniversary."

"Tattoo on your skin as a gift to someone else? Are you sure you want to do that? These babies are permanent and in most cases outlast the relationship."

"Well, I want it to be small and in a place that no one else can see but me and them. And I don't want a name. Something cute."

The artist nodded. "Alright. So, what might the place be? Because there are some limitations on those areas."

Steve pointed to his hip.

"On the hip or closer to your bellybutton?"

Steve blushed.

The tattooist understood Steve's unintentional hint. "So, closer to there? Son, that's a delicate area. I can do a piece there, but only if you can take it."

Steve pursed his lips. "Can I try it first? How it feels?"

The tattooist sighed. "It's either I do it or I don't. If you can't take it you'll have a speck of a tattoo in your skin forever in any case. But you have to either take it or leave it."

Steve nodded. "Ok. So, uh, I want it to be hidden unless I...you know...take off all my clothes."

"Can do. So, what picture do you want me to do?"

Steve told him.

The tattooist thought for a while. Then he went to the backroom and came soon back with a folder. "I have this one picture I drew for a client a while ago. They decided not to have the tattoo in the end, so it's available and no one else has it." After browsing through the folder, he found what he was looking for and handed Steve the picture. "It's simple and I can make it small. Would that work?"

Steve smiled. "It's perfect."

-oOo-

“Hey, I’m home!” Steve shouted after he closed the door to his and Billy’s house. It was small, but it was all theirs, had been for the last five years. And today was their tenth anniversary.

“Yeah,” came a tired groan from the bedroom.

After a while Steve sat on the bed next to Billy and leaned over him to kiss his neck. “Hey, firecracker, time to wake up. It’s already afternoon.”

“It’s Saturday,” Billy mumbled after a while.

“Yeah, but not just any Saturday.”

“Huh?”

“Don’t tell me you don’t remember what day it is today.”

“You woke me up literally a minute ago. Give me some slack.”

Steve laughed and curled around Billy as a big spoon, pulling Billy against him and hugging him. “Happy anniversary babe.”

“Oh, right,” Billy said. “Shit.” He kissed Steve’s palm, and turned around smiling. “Happy anniversary. What was it...ten?”

Steve grinned and set his forehead against Billy’s. “You remember something at least.”

“How could I not?” he said. Then his smile faltered a little. He didn’t want to think about how it all started, not really. After he woke up in the sterile white of a hospital, hurting all over all the fucking time. But Steve had been there since the faithful day, by his side, hoping that he would wake up even though the doctors hadn’t really given him much hope. He’d been there when no one else than he and Max had even really cared if he lived or died. And when Steve had come to stay with him after work, day after day, eventually they’d started to talk about deeper things, happy and sad things, regrets and all, and Steve being there became really important to him too. That Steve really cared what happened to him, cared that he’d get better and heal when he didn't matter to the rest of the world. “I remember the day vividly. You suddenly deciding...”

“It wasn’t ‘suddenly’. I’d spend almost three months by your side and thought it was time to get it over with because I knew you wanted it too. Even when you hadn't said it with..."

Billy put his finger on Steve's mouth to silence him. "As I was saying, you sitting on the bed, telling me to scoot over, and leaning in to kiss me. Even though I was a pathetic mess.”

“You weren’t pathetic or a mess,” Steve said softly, pushing a strand of hair behind Billy’s ear. “You were healing. And you were beautiful. Just like you are now.”

Billy smiled and kissed Steve, and Steve returned it the way he always did. Pulling Billy closer and kissing him breathless. The kisses heated up quickly, and soon they were all small bites of lips and tongues lapping against each other.

Steve pushed Billy on his back and underneath him, and because Billy always slept naked, he had easy access to his whole body. He trailed small kisses down from Billy’s neck to his chest. He gently kissed each and every scar on Billy’s body as he moved lower, making Billy let out deep sighs each time for the area around the scars remained more sensitive than the rest of his skin.

Steve kissed his way down the trail of tiny blond curls on Billy’s abdomen, meeting his erect cock. “I have a gift for you,” he said, brushing his cheek against it as he kissed his way lower on Billy’s groin and to the very base of the hard-on.

“Is it this?" Billy asked and moaned when Steve took his balls into his hand and kissed his way up towards the tip on the front of Billy's cock.

“Nope," Steve said, raising his gaze up to meet Billy’s. After licking the salty pre-cum away from the tip he continued: “Well, I guess this could be a prelude to it’s unwrapping.”

“Mhmm,” Billy groaned as Steve took his cock into his mouth, pushing his tongue against the front of it as he took it deeper. “Please unwrap this first.”

Steve kneaded Billy's balls in his hand while he lazily moved his mouth back and forth on his cock.

After a while Billy started to take deeper breaths and put his hands on Steve's head to control his pace. When he got closer to his orgasm, he started to gently fuck Steve's mouth in addition, and moaned loudly when he came. He took deep breaths as he kept Steve’s head in place and thrust in his mouth until he was fully spent.

When Billy let go, Steve looked up at him and swallowed his cum, wiping the corners of his mouth with a finger and licking it to savor it all.

“So, what’s the gift?” Billy asked when Steve laid next to him.

“Guess.”

Billy got up to lean on his elbow and looked at Steve. “Where is it?”

Steve grinned. “Somewhere only you can see it.”

“Oh,” Billy said and a mischievous smile painted his face. “Back or front?”

“Find out,” Steve said and opened his belt buckle.

Billy kissed Steve hungrily, getting aroused again by tasting himself on his mouth, and didn’t spend too much time to wander down to Steve’s groin. When Steve winced, Billy froze.

“What did I do?” he asked concerned.

“Uh, I didn’t expect it to be that, um, sensitive.”

Billy let out a breath. “What have you done, naughty boy?” he said slowly with a smirk.

Steve smiled. “Go ahead, unwrap it,” he urged.

Billy pulled Steve’s slacks off of him, throwing them on the floor.

“Be gentle, it’s fresh,” Steve said.

Billy pulled carefully Steve’s boxers down a little, first just on the right side. When he didn’t see anything there, he pulled them off, and moved Steve’s cock to see what was hidden on the other side of it. His jaw dropped open. “Oh princess...” he whispered, “it’s pretty.” He moved his hand gently over the plastic wrapping that protected a small tattoo of a tiara. “You got it for me?”

“Yeah, just for you to see.”

Billy had to swallow to control the lump that suddenly swell in his throat. “Babe, this is the best gift anyone has ever given me.”

"There's just one but," Steve said. "I think we need to keep it to blowjobs on my part for a while. It’s too sensitive for anything else. And the tattooist told me to keep it very clean for a few weeks before it heals properly.”

“I don’t mind. I already love to just look at it. And seeing it while giving you a head...” Billy said licking his lips, “I'm sure I won’t ever get tired of it.”

"Maybe you want to get one on this side too?" Steve asked. "For me to look at while..."

"Don't get greedy, princess," Billy interrupted Steve, "you already got one."

Steve grinned. "Well, ok, 'Bad Boy' written on right above your buttocks is kinda nice to look at..."

[storiesofsvu]

Hidden Desires Ch 9

Alex Cabot x reader Warnings: language, fluff, reference to s8 svu cases.

As it turned out, your suspension was much more of a ‘I’m working from home and not getting paid for it’ while you helped Alex with all the cases you’d had to dump on her (though she certainly made sure you got compensation for it) and a smattering of meetings in Donnelly’s office while you awaited the civil trial. You were honestly lucky it came up so quickly, and even more lucky when Paddy pulled out an ultrasound on the stand, Liz managing to call for a continuance to examine evidence, giving you and Stabler time to dig through and find a way to get him to drop the suit.

And to be completely honest, you didn’t mind the near month of having much less to do. You were able to catch up on a few things around the apartment that had been left in the dust over the past year. You deep cleaned the fridge, ever thankful when Alex had put in a grocery delivery for the two of you, finally able to have the time to make fresh, homemade meals every day for the both of you. You reorganized your kitchen, getting rid of all the doubles or triples of things, or things you never needed. It was a spring cleaning burst of energy to say the least.

When approximately 26 hours of Alex living out of a duffel bag had her whining you’d ordered a shelf off Amazon and despite the one day delivery, it was still sitting it its box in the bedroom. Naturally Alex’s clothes ended up tossed over it, winding up in them being wrinkled and she’d end up raiding your closet anyways. (A fact that was very noticed and called out each time by Sonya). You took the liberty of finally assembling it and unpacking the bag into it, adding a few of her things into your closet, doing a bit of a rearrangement and purge of your own belongings there as well.

Part of you was completely fine with being the stay at home partner for a while too, you had the time and energy to have dinner ready when Alex got home, something that she would be eternally grateful for, the extra caseload kicking her ass. While she’d wind down from the day you’d usually go over her notes, especially on the cases that were originally yours, making notes here and there in the margins on things she might’ve missed. You continued your marathoning of Schitt’s Creek after dinner, happy to be able to bury in each other’s arms, furthering the relaxation and upping the endorphins. It was more than safe to say that you both really enjoyed having the other one around.

Finally after the civil case had been dropped you had a meeting with Liz to lift your suspension. You were a bit worried she’d keep you on some kind of modified duty, but she’d assured you that she knew you were one of the best she had, and after this….you weren’t about to slip up like that again, at least for a while. Post meeting you were just happy you had the rest of the day off and more than welcomed lunch with Alex and Sonya to hurry to.

“So…verdict?” Sonya asked as you slid into the booth, pecking Alex’s cheek quickly.

“Suspension over, civil suit dropped. Baby Kendall’s with his Step Dad and Paddy’s pleading to custodial interference.” You replied, snagging a fry from Alex’s plate.

“Donnelly keeping you a short leash for now?” She asked. You rolled your eyes, pulling a stack of folders from your bag, dropping them onto the table.

“Brunt work?” Sonya questioned over a sip of bourbon.

“Homicide’s swamped, so I get to pick up their slack.”

“Least you don’t have to deal with live victims in the meantime.” The brunette replied. You sighed out a soft nod, at least you were back at work finally.

Conversation flowed away from your suspension and onto other work conversation as the other two batted off some ideas and strategies to you about their current cases. Sonya was sure to catch you up on the office gossip that Alex was too proud to indulge in, keeping to herself while you hadn’t been around. You all had ample time to eat and indulge in a couple of glasses of wine, the three of you free of having to be in court, it simply being an office or work from home day. Plates had just been bussed off the table when Alex’s phone pinged, you prepared to shift out of the booth to let her out but her hand reached for yours, stilling you as she softly squeezed.

“Fuck…” she muttered, swiping the screen open, her eyes darting across it.

“Work?” You questioned.

“No..it’s an email from my landlord.” She sighed heavily, dropping the phone back onto the table, “apparently there’s been more problems with the plumbing. Water’s now completely shut off and they don’t know how long it’s going to have to be off. Judging from previous experiences I’d say it’s probably time for me to start looking for a new place.”

“Well you know you’re more than welcome to stay with me as long as you need.” You squeezed her hand softly and in return she kissed the side of your head.

“Thank you.”

“Can I just state the obvious here?” The two of you looked over at Sonya, quizzical expressions on your faces prompting her to continue. “Just move in together.”

“I-oh-I mean-“ Alex stuttered over words as you let out a nervous laugh,

“Isn’t that…fast?”  Sonya laughed, rolling her eyes as she took a swig of her drink.

“You’ve been living together for almost a month already and things seem to be fine. I mean your entire relationship you’ve been at y/n’s apartment, I don’t see an issue.”

“There is the age old joke of lesbians moving quickly.” Alex half smirked at you, you playfully smacked at her arm.

“If you went home tonight and Alex wasn’t there, you’d be sad, and you’d have trouble sleeping.” Sonya continued, “besides, didn’t you say you’d been purging your shit? It’s like your subconscious was prepping for this.”

“Stop!” You laughed, “I had more than enough time on my hands, I marathoned that Marie Kondo show the first day of my suspension. I guess it made me reevaluate how much of my stuff actually brought me joy, or whatever.”

“Does Alex bring you joy?” Sonya smirked from across the table and you did your best to shoot her a death glare while trying not to blush too hard as you glanced up at your girlfriend.

“I-…yeah…she does…” Alex smiled, ducking her head to kiss you quickly. You thanked God that Sonya happened to be distracted with the server for the next minute, very conveniently giving the two of you a semi private moment.

“You bring me joy too.” Alex murmured, a smile etching across her lips as she kissed you again, eyes gazing in adoration when she pulled away, a breath of a laugh at the flush of your cheeks. The three of you settled up, Sonya headed back to Hogan Place while you and Alex chose the work from home option for the rest of the day.

It was a few days later that you and Alex started talking over options, her lease was already down to a month to month basis and if she found somewhere new she’d be trapped in at least a years lease. You both knew without even saying it that you didn’t want to have to wait another year before actually living together, and that it would be a waste of money paying separate rents anyways. You reassured Alex that you were more than okay with her officially being in your space, and she assured you that she wanted nothing more than to be there alongside you. She ended up paying another month of rent at her old place as you both ended up pretty busy, not leaving a lot of time for sorting through things, packing and moving into your apartment.

Once she had handed over her old set of keys and been added to your lease you popped a bottle of champagne and spent the night celebrating together. It may normally have been a big step in relationships, but everything just felt completely right, like everything was falling into place finally. You’d both spent so many years trying to figure it all out when the answer had been in front of you the entire time, you just didn’t know it.

*

It was a rare occasion for you to be awake before Alex, but she’d had one hell of a long day in court followed by an evening with the squad. You had a few cases you wanted to get a head start on and hadn’t really had much to do on Friday, leaving your Saturday morning very open while she slept in. It had been just over a month since she’d become an official part of your home, a more than welcomed part of your daily live, eager to share those quiet private moments together.

You heard the bedroom door creak open around 10:00 am, your eyes shifting their focus from your laptop screen to down the hall. The warm smile on your face was completely inevitable. Alex always looked so goddamn cute in the earlier hours of the weekends, her hair loosely pulled back, sleep still in her eyes as she padded out to the kitchen in search of coffee, soft in sleep clothes.

“Morning.” She murmured, pecking your cheek before moving to the coffee machine. You couldn’t help but follow her movements with your gaze, watching the way she graced through the kitchen, dressing her coffee before turning back to you. “What?” Her head titled at the look in your eye.

“Can…can I say something?” You asked hesitantly.

“Of course.” She took a small sip of coffee, testing the waters before sucking back a larger mouthful of caffeine.

“I..I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you.” Alex felt her cheeks warm at your words, knowing it wasn’t from her drink.

“Pretty sure?” She teased, moving beside you at the island.

“Well…” you ducked your gaze quickly before meeting her sapphire eyes, “I mean I’ve always kinda loved you, but…this…feels different.” Her hand reached out to stroke the fallen hair back behind your ear, “I’ve always loved spending time with you, but now..I love waking up to you, falling asleep beside you…I..lose my breath when you walk in the room.” Her fingers came to lace between yours, giving your hand a soft squeeze, “You make me feel more appreciated and cared for than I ever have in my life. And to be completely honest you make work hella distracting.” You laughed, pulling a snort from the blonde.

“You do have a terrible habit of staring at my hands while you’re supposed to be concentrating.”

“What can I say? My mind wanders…” Alex’s hand moved from her coffee to cup your cheek, nuzzling against your smile before kissing you softly, only pulling apart far enough to gain your gaze.

“I love you.” She pecked your lips again, “romantically” another kiss, “platonically” another kiss, “and definitely sexually.” You giggled at that one, “Sweetheart I love you more than you could ever imagine. I love every part of you, body and soul, and I always will.”

“Alex…” you felt like you were an inch away from not being able to hold it together, pulling her to you for a deep kiss,  “You mean the world to me. I love you.”

Hearing the words escape your lips, the complete love radiating from Alex’s eyes back to yours as your arms were wrapped around each other made everything feel incredibly real. It was suddenly confirmed in your brain that this wasn’t some kind of crazy dream, or temporary thing that would fizzle out, that Alex would end up wanting more, or you would change your mind. It confirmed that your waiting was done, you’d kissed all your frogs, and surprisingly enough to you, you’d found your princess, the game was over, you knew who you wanted to spend your life with. You’d never expected it to be your best friend, but you were happier than you’d ever been.

And honestly, so was Alex. It had started out as some silly crush she tried to avoid, but the timing happened to be perfect. The universe certainly knew what it was doing, throwing every curve ball at the two of you right as you needed it to, to realize that you cared about each other, that you were truly meant to be together.

“Go relax.” You nodded to the couch, pecking Alex’s cheek, “I’ll make you breakfast.” She smiled, nuzzling against you for another kiss before she made her way into the living room. Tossing a bright smile over the back of the couch you couldn’t help but giggle as you pulled the eggs from the fridge, smiles rarely leaving either of your cheeks for the rest of the day.

[brainwormsnotgummyworms]

Did I Lose a Piece of Myself or Has She Been There All Along?

How to retrieve blocked messages! 

How to see blocked messages when their number is blocked. ✨

I had blocked his phone number on my phone, I just got a new laptop and all of his texts he sent me while he was blocked just loaded.

When I open my laptop and it shows the last message they sent me after I blocked them. 

How to find blocked messages on iPhone. 

I caved. It started with one TikTok: a video of a teenage girl with her hand over her mouth, her perfectly manicured acrylic nails shining under the white light of her screen, and her bulky rimmed glasses glinted with a reflection of an image of the young girl recording herself. Her slicked back bun and golden chunky hooped earrings were covered with a black-and-white rounded text stating how she found her “blocked messages folder” on her iPhone–unveiling the thousands upon thousands of text messages she received from her ex. All of which consisted of the, “Take me back” pleas.  I don’t know this girl and I don’t know her ex, but I do know myself and what happened between my ex and I–the seemingly heart wrenching story which truly was just a break-up that was waiting to happen at least eight months prior. As I begged and sobbed in the stairwell of my summer dorm, he averted my eyes and laid back upon the concrete wall. “Why am I not enough for you?” I asked between stifled tears. 

Why am I not enough for you? The desperate question danced mournfully in the empty hall–its forlorn message dripped with deplorable pity and anguish as it bounced from wall to wall. 

I never received an answer, but maybe it's better that way. 

The day of the break-up, he had unfollowed and unadded me on all platforms about fifteen minutes after everything happened. To retaliate, I blocked him on every app that I could–except his phone number, of course, because how else would I send desperate texts asking to stay friends!? Eventually, when I finally accepted he would never come back or return my drunken calls, I blocked his number on my birthday; it helped to never know whether or not he would’ve sent that sneaky “birthday text” some of us wish to receive after the breakup. 

Over the past year or so, I have changed into the new and improved woman I like to think of myself as. A new degree; a new home; a new career; a new haircut; a new wardrobe; a new circle of friends; a new piercing or two; a new flourishing girl he will never know nor touch. Even with everything that has changed, I cannot help, but remember how I felt that day in the stairwell–that, in itself, was a new feeling I had never felt before. 

I have moved-on (or at least that’s what I tell myself). I go on dates, I chat with new guys and girls, I fantasize, I flirt, I bat my eyes and purse my lips, and, worst of all, I still think of him. I think of him in the same way you stress about having to pay off your credit card when you spent a little too much that month or when you go to the doctor’s office hoping that your symptoms are not as serious as the internet makes it out to be when you search them up on Google. He clouds my thoughts like an oil spill in a fresh green lake; the thick, black liquid shines rainbow on the baby duck’s yellow feathers as it tries to escape the woods. It’s just a dark storm which always looms at the back of my mind no matter how many sunny days I have. 

Today, I found myself getting sucked back into the haunted forest of lost memories–my normally yellow feathers now slicked back in gleaming black goo. I watched the tutorials and did as they said: 1) Opened my Phone app. 2) Clicked on my voicemails. 3) Scrolled alllllll the way down. 4) Found the tab that said, “Blocked Messages.” My heart began to race and my head was pounding. I couldn’t believe it was so easy to access this “hidden secret” that was seemingly right in my face for the entirety of this past year. As I readied myself to open up the forbidden chambers of Blocked Messages, I envisioned the waterfall of voicemails from my ex just as the girl in the TikTok did. I imagined his voice creeping through the phone and finally asking me through broken tears, “Why am I not enough for you?” I finally clicked on the tab after what felt like an eternity, my hands trembling, just to find…

Spam calls. 

It was all the spam numbers I had blocked throughout the year–nothing else. Taken aback, I listened to nearly every voicemail trying to convince myself it was him. Maybe in this voicemail I’ll hear him on the other side explaining it was a fake number because I blocked him on everything else, but he regrets everything that he did and he’s so, so, so, sorry, I thought. But it never was. It was always an automated voice message telling me to press 2 if I wanted to continue the call, then, click, silence. 

Something happened that I wasn’t expecting to happen. My heart dropped in disappointment, my throat tightened, my face felt warm, and I could feel the tears pool in my eyes. I was sad; I was sad he never tried to reach out once. It finally hit me a year later that he didn’t care like I thought he did. Selfishly, I always pictured him crying in his room in heartbroken angst in front of an ex-girlfriend shrine realizing that leaving me was the biggest mistake of his life. Now I know that never happened. In fact, I was the one crying in heartbroken angst–not him. 

As I let the sadness settle, like a baby bird taking cover beneath its mother’s wing, I swiped out of the Blocked Messages tab just to find another tab right above it titled “Deleted Messages.” My curiosity got the best of me and I sheepishly opened this second tab too–finding something I didn’t necessarily want to see. I saw all the voicemails he had left me during the relationship; I forgot I never fully erased them. I clicked on the latest one back in October many moons ago, but I couldn’t get myself to listen to it and hear his voice echoing in my cobwebbed mind like nails on a chalkboard. 

I read the transcript. I remembered this day. It was near Halloween. As we stood in front of the bar, he yelled at me in front of his friends. He had never yelled at me like that before. We weren’t even fighting, but he yelled at me. Shocked at his actions, I ran back into the bar as he waited outside, “Please call me back. I don’t want to end the night like this,” he sighed, “I love you.” The transcript ended. 

I

love 

you… 

I read those words, but I didn’t remember feeling loved then. 

What I did remember was how horrible I felt that night after he screamed in my face to back off.  I remember when he told me he hated being around my family. I remember when he hung out with his “girl best friend” late at night and turned off his location for hours.  I remember when he told me how in love he was with another girl and it wasn’t fair she didn’t want him back.  I remember when I told him I didn’t want to have sex, but he still did it anyway.  I remember when my roommate told me he was hitting on her.  I remember when he lived at my apartment and refused to help me with the bills. I remember when he would have outbursts when I wouldn’t use my money to buy him weed.  I remember downplaying my own success because he would get jealous of my achievements.  I remember when he told me I was never supposed to be long-term.  I remember when he knew that one of his friends sexually assaulted me, but we never spoke of it.  I remember when he would talk about the future and he would always leave me out of it. 

I remember, I remember, I remember. Suddenly, it clicked–the biggest thing I needed to remember. This was not someone I loved or missed, but someone who hurt me so deeply that a bandaid was never going to be enough to fix the broken bones he had left behind. 

For a long time, his leaving made me feel as if I had lost a part of myself, but it has occurred to me that I never did. While he may have tried to take the best parts of me away, destroying them like bullets through glass soda bottles, I have since grown, changed, and transformed. My heart may have bruises, but it’s still intact–capable of being loved and loving others once again. It’s not that a part of me is gone. Instead, roses and daisies have finally sprouted between the cracks in the sidewalk. I was the biggest stranger to myself when I was with him, but now I know myself like no other. A wave of peace, serenity, and glee washed over me and waves hit the sand upon my mind: he will never be the forest fire devouring the flowers, trees, and wildlife in my dearest meadow. 

I stared at the screen as my finger found its way from the bright blue “Clear All” header. As I clicked it, my iPhone asked, “Permanently clear deleted voicemails?” 

Clear All. 

Despite erasing the little bit of history I had left, I had never felt so much more complete. 

[anhwrites]

Chapter 1. The Viper

This story can also be found on Wattpad and AO3 under the names Anh__Writes

"Wheels up in thirty gentlemen! Let's get this done and over with." Shepherd shouts, the men quickly surround the table he stands at, silently waiting for him to start. All around them, men were running in and out of the large tent, packing things into the multiple aircraft's waiting outside. 

"I hear we have a woman joining us on this mission." Captain Price breaks the silence first. His head tilts to its side as he stands to the Generals immediate left, he grabs ahold of the straps to his gear. She takes that opportunity to walk slowly towards them, staying hidden in the shadows that the corners of the tent created. The dry dirt under the men running by kicked up, created clouds of smoke as she stayed out of their way. Her eyes scan them each carefully, assessing their builds, features, and any noticeable markings. A few of them shifted their weight, glancing at each other before back at Shepherd, waiting for him to explain.

"What's wrong with women, captain?" Laswell asks through the computer screen, her tone light.

"Nothing, just that they aren't you." He replies smoothly, giving her a small smile and a quick nod. "But the last time we let a woman tag along, she-" 

"She's called the Viper," Shepherd cuts him off. Utilizing that time to get a better angle, she walks around until she's behind Shepherd. Still in the shadows, she leans quietly against a wooden crate as she watches them. The helicopter whirs loudly outside of the tent as it starts up, twisting the air around it in every which way, nudging up the loose flaps of the tent, blowing loose dirt around in the process. "You don't earn a name like that for nothing. This mission will be a little different, though. The war hasn't started yet, and it wont unless we can successfully transfer her to each location so she can extract intel and assassinate the men she's been assigned to deal with. We need to make sure to have her back, get her in and out without being harmed." He orders, as he speaks he's opening files of the men, passing it around for them to read. 

"No offense General, but, we're troops, not bodyguards, what do these men have to do with the war anyways?" Soap asks, his face pinched with confusion. He doesn't bother reading what was given to him. She notes that the only ones who truly reads through the information given to them are Ghost and the Captain. What they didn't know is that these men were linked to everything. Crime organizations, child trafficking rings, helping supply Russia with missiles. They were all connected to each other in some way.

"For the next few weeks I need you gentlemen to be anything this woman needs, hear me? You are troops and you are trained like them, yes. However, she's going to be awfully close to men who are incredibly dangerous. She's offered her services to us and you men are the best we've got to make sure she stays safe. There's a list of Russian mobsters who were there the night of the drop, who can tell us where they got the missiles from. While the UN tends to stay out of Underworld business, but its our business when we're stolen from and unknowingly supplying the enemy." His displeasure is clear, as much as she dislikes Shepherd. She was a little grateful that he was sticking up for her.

These men were smart, but she was smarter. They didn't trust her and she didn't trust them. She had already known she was on her own. 

"I've 'eard of her." Ghosts whispers, its almost breathless. He closes the folder before tossing it back onto the table. She'd heard of him too, she'd be too stupid not to do her own research on them and out of the whole squad, she feared him the most. Anyone with a brain would. "Only in passing but, the stories about her are.... Fuckin' bloody." It's all he gives, his head turns to look Soap in the eye. "The men she's sent after never live to speak about it." Her lips perse, she had never heard anyone say that about her, it was a little entertaining. While she took pride in being silent it was nothing more than a little practice.

"They same the same about you L.T." Soap replies, nudging him with his elbow. 

"Yes, I'm a soldier though. Civilians don't just wake up with skills like that." She nodded to herself with appreciation, he had a point. "How do we know we can trust 'er?" Ghosts attention turns back to Shepherd. 

"You don't. Just like she doesn't know if she can trust you." Shepherd opens a folder, throwing pieces of paper onto the table, letting the men each take a piece. "Theres a list for her to go through. This list contains mob men who pose as businessmen mostly, men in media eye. They're almost exclusively hired to do the mobs dirty work, using the businesses as a front. One of them will know where the Russian's safe house is, once we get the location you will go in and retrieve the missiles, until then. Your job is to make sure she makes it to each location safely."

"Why isnt she here, now?" Price asks, adjusting his hold he had on his gear. 

"The US government hired an assassin to do their dirty work? I've seen it all." Gaz mutters, amusement lacing his features. Her boots make little noise against the dirt as she finally pushes away from the crate and walks up beside Shepherd and into the light. The bangs if her chestnut wig hang low, covering most of her eyes. A pile of paper she's already read over lays in-front of her. It was almost comical how quick the room went silent as soon as they realized she was there with them, she could feel their eyes as they trained intently on her. 

"The UN hired her, actually. She flew in with me and got briefed at the same time I did." Shepherd corrects, one of his eyebrows cocked. "Now, do you men understand or do I need to find a different squad to go through with this mission?" After a moment of silence, the General nods before grabbing his folder. "Here are your invitations for the few events you will attend, do not lose them, you know the men you're looking for. Try to get them alone, get them to confess to whatever you need, then do your thing." She nods mutely, refraining heavily from rolling her eyes. They always mansplained her job to her as if she didn't do it all the time. As if the government wouldn't still be looking for her if she hadn't turned herself in.

"You'll be staying on the top floor of the Hamptons Inn for tonight. You have four weeks to finish your list, find out who helped supply the Russians." Her fingers graze the photos before she picks the picture of the man she'd kill up with a gloved hand, the movements silent. His face had already been engraved into her brain, but it didn't hurt getting one more look. 

"Stay safe, I expect updates." Kate tells her before they say their goodbyes and Shepherd closes the laptop quickly, walking in the direction she had came from. She folds the floor plans of the multiple buildings she'd be in up and shoves them into her pocket. She'd look over them later.

When they're boarding into a helicopter, Soap and Ghost speak quietly to each other as the other two get their gear together, settling into their seats quickly. She takes her seat and lets the wind whip her wig around her, the headset secured in place. A few of the men pass very bad jokes around without laughing and it serves for amusement the first half of the flight. 

"A fancy hotel is a step up from cots, ain't that right L.T?" Soap jokes. "You wanna share a bed with me?" She hides her smile in her jacket as she watches Ghost rear back dramatically, staring at him like he'd grown two heads. He sends him a side-eyed glare before turning back in his seat. "Wasn't a no!"

"Hey," Captain Price nudges her a few minutes later, as she's staring out at the nature they passed. He leans closer and her body tenses as she slowly turns to look at him. His aftershave and cigar smell mix together wonderfully, filling her senses with a pleasant smell. Her unblinking stare meets his hard blue gaze. "So, why is it that you need an entire task force in order to complete this list if you're so good at what you do?" She stares at him quietly for a few moments. She lets her gaze travel, his pinched brows are barely visible under the fishing hat he's wearing. His lips are set in a frown, causing creases to dent his stubbled jaw and chin. After a moment, she turns her gaze to the skyline below. She understood being pissy because they are in a situation they've never had to be in, but he didn't need to take it out on her. She was contracted just like they were... Technically. She had asked for protection but she didn't mean from the military. 

"You were given the opportunity to not take the mission, Captain. The question you should be asking yourself is why you didn't." His gaze is unrelenting when she looks back at him, his jaw grinds shortly with annoyance before he turns back to Gaz. She had assumed wrong when she thought that maybe he'd be nicer to her than the rest when she read his file. She hadn't expected a warm welcome but she couldn't deny the fact that it still hurt.

An hour of silence later, they land on the rooftop of the hotel. She unstraps her head gear quickly, wanting to get out of there as fast as possible. She sets it carefully back in its place before grabbing her bag from the floor and slinging it over her shoulder. Her knees bend as she jumps down from the helicopter and onto the concrete. The blades whipped around aggressively above them, forcing the leaves and twigs that laid on the rooftop to uplift. Gaz jumps down next to her steading himself hastily. 

"Your room-card m'lady." He slides up next to her, holding out a yellow room card. She takes it from him, not saying anything, not even sparing him a glance as she walks over to take her suitcase and then off into the open door waiting for them. 

•

"Damn brother, thats cold." Soap slaps a large, warm hand onto his shoulder. Gaz holds a hand to his chest with faux-ache, rubbing the spot. Ghost and Price come up on the other side, they all watch as she disappears as silently as she came. 

"Just makes me want her more though, am I sick for that?" Gaz sighs. Soap pats his arm with a chuckle.

"No, but it makes you stupid." Ghost gruffs. The Captain does nothing but hum in agreement, each of them take their own bags from the spot they'd been stored in.

"How would you know?"

"I read her file. I'm starting to think i'm the only one who did. She's a killer, the least you could do is show her come respect." Ghost side eyes them before glancing once at the Captain and then following her inside. 

"What are the odds he's saying that because he's also into her?" Gaz asks, hooking a thumb in Ghosts direction, before glancing at the other two.

"Slim to none, lad. Slim to none." Soap removes his hand from Gaz's shoulder, grinning at him before following after Ghost. 

~•

That night, as she pads out of the steamed bathroom shaking her wet hair dry. A knock sounds from the door, halting her movements. There's mumbling outside of her door. Several men, shes either insanely fucked or its just the squad. With a quick peek through the eye-hole she confirms its her squad. 

She shakes her head in reprimand. The squad. She opens the door slowly to peek out, their conversation ands immediately and she's assaulted with various scents of aftershave, cologne, and a slight hint of smoke. She makes eye contact with Soap, the one who'd knocked. But she takes note of the others from the side of her vision. Ghost leans against the far wall, half covered in shadows. Gaz stands in-between, his body already facing Soap. The Captain isn't with them and she's silently thankful for it. 

He clears his throat, glancing once behind her before meeting her eyes with a kind look. "We're going down to the pub- bar," He sasses as Gaz nudges him with his elbow jokingly, something she noticed they did a lot. "If you care to join us." She glances down at what she's wearing, just the fuzzy white robe, before back up at them. She holds a finger up, signaling for them to give her a minute. Leaving the door cracked just a bit, she walks quickly towards her bag. They had been in t-shirts and jeans. So she dresses herself in a long sleeve black t-shirt and a black jean skirt. A pair of ripped tights underneath socks and boots. Her small throwing knives get tucked into the thigh garters she wore almost all the time. 

Was it too much for the bar? Perhaps, but how often did women get attacked in public places? She could never be too careful. She grabbed her wallet before going back to the door. She never did things like this, didn't go out, she wouldn't risk her safety if she could help it. After s moments thought, she didn't have the time, either. She didn't even have the time to pick up hobbies, to find things she loved. Every decision she made was calculated, thought out. 

It felt wrong in a way, was it alright for her to go to a bar knowing what she'd be doing the next day? For the next four weeks? She often repressed the guilty thoughts, they couldn't help her. But she also couldn't help the occasional thought that would slip through to whisper terrible things to her. 

But this was Squad 141, these were the safest men to be with in the world. The Captain wasn't her biggest fan and she could admit that. But she also knew he would do his job when it came down to it and that she'd be okay. She finds herself hoping she didn't take too long; opening the door and once again met with their presence, they'd happily gone back to their conversation. She made sure she had her room key before closing the door behind her.

They walked silently for most of the way, and she quickly came to realize how little skill she had when it came to talking to others, making friends. She didn't have the time for that, but the sudden thought that these men have already had drinks together; several times before, made her realize just how alone she'd been. She wasn't angry no, she couldn't blame them for being mates. But she found herself wishing for a companion too, maybe just one. 

She refrains from shaking her head in reprimand towards herself. Thoughts like this would get her killed. Having attachments to other people would get them killed and she couldn't risk that. 

Captain Price stood by the elevator, he glanced around at the artless walls, almost making a point not to look at her. She could have snorted at the small act of immaturity, he may be an ass but he was a funny one. 

When they approached the elevator, Gaz and Price go in first while Ghost and Soap stay behind, Ghost still had on a mask - or - neck-gaiter, more like. His hood covering the rest of him. 

They wait for the next elevator with her politely. "So," Soap breaks the silence, his voice low, she looks at him, tilting her head back just a touch. She would never tell him, but she loved his voice. "If this is rude, feel free to punch me. But do you speak?" She feels her mask slip, brows twitching together in a mixture of confusion and amusement at his choice of words, she had never heard anyone say something like that. "See, ya haven't graced me with your voice once. It's no worries if not but we should know so we can come up with a way to communicate with you, especially during future escapades if ya know what I mean." He winks at her. After some thought, she nods, she couldn't be upset with him for being logical. The elevator door dings and it slides open. She steps in first and waits for the two of them to follow. 

When they're inside she gets comfortable before meeting his kind gaze once more, she doesn't have to break her neck looking up at him like she had to with Ghost but he was still tall, her head still has to tilt backwards just a bit. He's handsome, which is expected, they all are, deep ocean blue eyes bore into hers. "I speak, Sergeant." She finally breaks the silence."I prefer  to engage with others when I have to or if i'm approached." She adds quietly. "I don't care to waste my energy." 

"Just call me Soap. So you weren't ignoring us, then?" His hands move to his pockets and she watches out of her peripheral, a small smirk begins to rest on his face as he stares intently at her. His gaze made her feel as if he was studying her and she hated it. She shifted her weight, finally turning her gaze to meet his fully.

"I didn't see a need to speak to you." She clarifies, giving him a small smile in hopes to make it come off better but she had a feeling it didn't. His smirk slipping only confirming her theory. 

"So, how do men make it onto that list of yours?" He asks after a few moments of silence. From his tone she can tell its out of curiosity more than anything, but she wasnt stupid. Nothing she would say in turn would remain confidential. If needed, they'd use whatever they could against her.

The elevator door dings and she stalks out quietly, choosing not to reply to him. Shes constantly grateful that she was forced to spend most of her childhood perfecting different skills, skills she thought were useless at the time.

The guests in the bar are sparse, only a few sat around at different tables. She takes a seat at the right wing of the bar, in a spot where she can keep an eye on all entrances and exits. Ordering her favorite drink before turning to the tv, silently enjoying the episode of criminal minds playing on the flatscreen tv in silence. 

They're about to deliver the profile the police when she feels a presence behind her, the ice from their drink clinks softly against the glass as they shuffle closer. "Hey sweet thing." An older gentleman slides up next to her, taking the empty seat. "Can I buy you another drink?" The first thing she notices is how part of the squad freezes, their conversation dies almost instantly at the nearby table. The second is that this man has had way too much to drink, and it's clear he's looking for a good time. 

"Why?" Her head cocks as she turns it to meet his gaze. No amusement sits there and he bristles quickly in response, all traces of flirtation gone. Her lips tip up in amusement. 

"Can't a man buy a pretty lady a drink?" He asks loudly, holding his hands up in mock-surrender and a few other people pause to watch their interaction. She brings her drink to her lips, taking a long sip, watching him as he watches her do it. 

"What do you want from me?" She asks, pulling the straw away from her mouth. Her small smile hiding something deeper, something this gentleman was either too stupid or too drunk to see. 

"Your time." Her eyes roll involuntarily at his words, she turns back from the tv not moving to stop him as he sits down next to her, ordering her another drink. She lets him talk about himself, humming along to his long, boring complaints. Hates his life, his work, his wife, looking to turn things around using the stock market. He's seen The Wolf of Wall-Street ! How hard could it be? In this time, she takes his appearance in. Mid-forties, receding hairline and a Tom Ford suite that looked well worn and loved. Her gaze stops once on a stain on his thigh, was that baby puke?  

She could feel five pairs of eyes staring intently at her as she lets him talk for a few more minutes before downing a shot he paid for and turning to him. "You want my advice, Ron?" She asks, finally fed up with his whining.

"My name is Rex." She waives her hand at his reply, not caring for the correction. 

"Go home to your wife and kids, and stop trying to pick up young women at bars you selfish sack of shit." He gapes at her, stuttering up excuses. Kicking her stool out from under her, she rises her arms above her, stretching before she relaxes again and stares down at him. 

"Thanks for the drinks, Richard." She moves past him and towards the exit. 

"Thats not my name!" His arms jerk up in annoyance as he stands up abruptly. He grabs her arm, twisting her so she'll face him again. At once the squad at the table stands and starts to close in. The man startles at their presence, letting her go almost instantly as he takes them in. Her arm jerks from his hold as she scoffs, rolling her eyes. "I just wanted to know how you knew I have kids. I never mentioned that, it seems to turn women off." She stares at him with disgust for a few seconds too long. She can feel all of their eyes boring into her, waiting to see what she'll do next. She honestly couldnt decide if she should slap the shit out of him or not. 

"Theres a baby puke stain on your left thigh." Is all she gives before turning on her heel and leaving him behind. As she got into the elevator she spins her room key in her fingers slowly, examining it as she does so. Looking up as the doors start to close, she watches the squad walk into the lobby and towards the elevators, she makes no move to stop the elevator doors from closing.

[fairyofjaeyun]

you ask them to wear a maid dress ☾

[16:06] now playing: tek it - cafuné

[a/n] I know the maid dress hype has died down but I’m not over it ok

⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙ ⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙

—doyoung ✩

he’s gonna look at you like you’ve gone mad. it’ll definitely be something that he thinks about, if he doesn’t cringe about it that is. but ultimately he’ll do it because he “loves you.” his words. once he slips it on and finally gets the courage to show you he’s already pouting. “there. are you happy now? wait what are you doing?” he’s taken aback as you walk up to him and push him down to his knees. then you shove a black ball gag into his mouth, muffling the rest of his words. “oh you just look so cute!” you exclaim, pulling up your camera on your phone. the sudden flash makes doyoung squint and his cheeks flare up. before he could protest you push your foot against his crotch, making him yelp, then the flash comes back on and stays. he’s embarrassed to look up as you rub your foot on his hardening bulge and drool starts to pool out of his lips. “what would johnny say if he saw this?” you tease and you were not expecting the small moan against the gag. “oh you’d like that wouldn’t you? should I call him then?”

⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙ ⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙

—xiaojun ✩

he’ll try to seem hesitant about it, but on the inside he’s jumping for joy. He chooses the classic black and white dress with a heart shaped apron and makes a whole day out of it by cleaning the house and being a perfect maid for you. the dress was able to (unfortunately) cover his lace panties but when he bent over to pick up laundry or rearrange the books on the coffee table, the skirt would lift up just enough to tease you with his thighs, just a couple centimeters short of having his ass on display. “I’m all done, miss.” he tells you, making you lift your eyes away from the book you were trying to read without sneaking glances at your pretty boyfriend. “good job, my pretty maid!” you praise him and his smile and an adorable blush instantly lights up his face. you then stand up and wrap you arms around his tiny waist, sneaking and resting your hands on his ass. “I think you deserve a reward for all of your hard work.”

⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙ ⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙

—jungwoo ✩

the start of the himbofication of jungwoo. similar to xiaojun, he’d want to role play being your personal maid, but instead of doing an excellent job, he’ll mess up and pout at you. “I’m sorry, mommy. I’m trying my best.” however, that’s not an invitation to go easy on him. Pull on his pink hair if he’s taking too long and slap his ass whenever the pink dress lifts (which is often). “I’m not paying you to do such a shitty job. maybe I’ll get my moneys worth if you let me use that pretty body of yours.” jungwoo can’t help but whine and let you undress him so you can use him like your own personal toy.

⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙ ⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙

—mark ✩

has a “I beg your pardon? 🤨” look on his face but only after he does his signature “wHAT??!?” he definitely wouldn’t give a clear answer at first but he’ll still find himself slipping into the black and white frilly dress and stockings with the cat ears being the icing on the cake. the first thing you’ll probably hear from the bathroom is mark busting out laughing at how ridiculous he think he looks and him whining about if he has to show you. he’ll eventually open the door and step out to reveal just how adorable he looked. he’d be too giggly for it to go sexual but you’ll definitely get a couple cute pictures for your hidden folder.

⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙ ⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙

—shotaro ✩

he’d be so shy and giggly in the black and white costume. his pretty eyes crinkling into little crescents as you shower him with compliments. his long, muscular legs, and thicc ass made the dress way shorter than what it was supposed to be and if he lifted his arms or bent over you could see all of the white panties that struggled to cover him up. he just looked so beautiful that you couldn’t help sneaking your arms around his waist and to start kissing him. at first it’s sweet and wholesome, until your lips trail down to his sensitive neck. he shudders as you began licking, sucking, and biting all his sweet spots. “mommy, please.” he moans, throwing his head back. “please what, hm?” you ask against his neck, your breath tickling him. “please fuck me, mommy. it hurts.”

⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙ ⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙

—jaemin ✩

you don’t have to ask him twice, he’s putting it on asap. he’s another one I think would prefer the pink and white theme over the classic black and white. I also see him buying some cute pink mary jane style shoes with cute white frilly socks; and he’ll even buy the tiktok bunny hat to go with it too. “look at my pretty bunny!” you coo as he fondles with the poofy skirt, his rabbit teeth peeking out from his shiny, plump lips that were coated with tinted vaseline. “thank you, mama.” he’d definitely want to serve you, but not by cleaning ;))

⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙ ⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙

—yangyang ✩

it was part of his punishment. he kept pushing you to see just how far you would go, how hard you would snap, and this is the result: you making him clean the house top to bottom in a skimpy maid outfit. but you weren’t going to make it easy for him. you gave him an earful if he missed even a tiny spot or if something was out of place, and if things were going too smoothly, you’d purposely knock over the magazines on the coffee table or the decorative pillows on the couch, ordering him to pick them up. “are you serious?!” he’d shout the first time while bending down to pick up the scattered magazines. “is that how you talk to your master?” you asked him in a tone that convinced him not to challenge you. And just as he thought you didn’t have anymore tricks up your sleeve, he felt your strong hands grip his hips while he was bent over inside the dryer, trying to get the last few things that were pushed towards the back. “mommy!” he gasped, feeling the bottom of dress bunch up towards his back to reveal the jeweled plug that was stuffed inside his ass beneath the black fishnets that hugged his skinny legs. he knew you were nowhere near done torturing him.

⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙ ⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙

—haechan ✩

oh, he’ll wear it, but it’s gonna cost you. what’s the cost, you ask? well that depends on how devilish he’s feeling that day. it may be something as simple as an extra long cuddle sesh or a huge date full of activities he enjoys because he’s extra like that. either way, it’s no surprise that he’s bratty. his hands palm his crotch over the pink skirt no matter how many times you swat them away and the plug you made him wear was tossed away in a random corner not even 15 minutes into the roleplay. “masterrr~” he whines and pouts halfway into putting away your clothes. “can you just fuck me already?” in any other circumstance, you’d say “absolutely not” but after seeing him in that pretty pink dress with his legs exposed and no underwear on, you couldn’t control the urge to slam him down on your bed and fuck him until he was dick drunk and his moans turned into those pretty, girlish whimpers.

⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙ ⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙

[bethdutten]

devour me

The official sealed record states August Walker is deceased. It doesn’t mention why there wasn’t a funeral like any other CIA agent killed in the line of duty would get. No one talks about him at all. You’re going to find out why.

august walker x reader. 2.6k words. angst, fluff, smut!! 18+ only

You glanced down at the file on your desk, knowing you could be fired just for being aware of its existence. No one knew about you and August; it was imperative to your safety and his that no one knew. When he didn’t come home after three months on a mission with Ethan Hunt, you knew something was wrong.

He would never just abandon you. Having to go undercover for awhile, maybe. But the CIA would have had to keep a trail of that, for bureaucratic reasons. You got through some encrypted files, found the code names he went under, and discovered in an email that there was a single paper copy in a higher-up’s desk.

It would have been difficult for anyone else, but it was easy for you to get your hands on it. Now you stared at the manila folder named ‘Walker/Lark’ and suddenly weren’t sure if you wanted to know what was inside it.

An hour later, you’d read through it all, and nothing was clear anymore.

You carefully stacked all the papers and photographs together, tears blurring your vision as you placed them back in the envelope, which you’d put back where you found it without anyone knowing. You thought you knew everything about August— his childhood, his mother, his army experience and how it all traumatized him. What he did in the CIA, you accepted and loved him not in spite of it all, but including it all. You loved him, and knew about the ring in the back of the closet with hopes he’d one day grow up and actually ask you.

Who was this man you’d spent the last three years with?

Nothing made sense anymore, but one thing was clear— you needed answers if you were ever going to let this go. And you weren’t entirely convinced August was dead anymore. He was the most solid man you’d ever seen, he’d survived bullet wounds and hits that would kill regular men. Whatever happened out there with Ethan, it was only part of the story.

So, you grabbed a bag and started packing for Kashmir, where the file claimed he was killed. Your eye caught on the black box on the top shelf on August’s side of the closet, half hidden behind a plaid shirt he always wore on weekends that still smelled of him.

You were suddenly hit with a wave of emotion. Maybe this trip was just another stage of grief because you wouldn’t accept that he was gone. Because you never got to openly be with him, when it died it was like your entire relationship died too. The love had no where to go, no where to be remembered.

You took the box and opened it, looking at the ring for the second time since you first found it. A beautiful old miners cut diamond on a silver band, a bit rough but gorgeous, like the man that bought it. You slipped it onto your left ring finger, snapped the box shut, and finished packing.

A CIA contact got you to Srinagar by the next night, and you were planning to be in Turtuk tomorrow. You knew it was a long shot— if August survived, he wouldn’t have stayed at the last place he was seen. But if he was injured, he wouldn’t have a choice.

You left your hotel and went to the closest bar, a small and cozy spot that was pretty empty. You picked a dark booth in the back, pulling out the file you’d copied from the one you stole. You were still left with so many questions. Why didn’t he trust you with any of this?

The door to the bar opened, and you glanced up to see a man walk in.

You would recognize that body anywhere.

Somehow, by some miracle, the dead man you had travelled across the world to find just walked into the bar you were in. It was dark, and he was favouring his left side like he probably broken his leg and was still healing.

As he walked under the lights at the bar, you noticed the right side of his face was covered in thick scars, his eye milky and void of the blue you were used to. The moustache he left with was replaced by a full beard, but it was him.

You felt like you were seeing a ghost. Weeks of telling yourself he had to have survived, that he was too strong to be taken down by someone like Ethan Hunt, that he was just healing somewhere. But seeing him in person, or what was left of him, was surreal. You slid out of your booth, saying softly, “August?”

August froze. He hadn’t heard his name said aloud in months. The local woman who found his broken body at the bottom of that mountain didn’t speak English, and he never told her his name. It was the first thing that came back to him when he woke; his name, then that he was a CIA agent. He couldn’t remember why he was in Kashmir, only that no one came looking for him.

But that voice. He heard it in his dreams, coming in and out of consciousness. Then your name, but he didn’t know who you were to him.

He turned, keeping the right side of his face in the dark. He didn’t know if he should trust you— maybe you were an enemy, sent here to track him down and finish the job. He needed to tread lightly.

But you noticed the recognition. It was August. Letting out a sob of relief, you stepped closer and met his eyes, a hand hesitantly coming up to rest on the side with the scarring. He flinched away, but you held your ground, whispering, “It’s really you. I knew you would never leave me.”

August grabbed your hand and pulled it away from his face, his eyes flashing with recognition but still guarded. Then he looked down at your hand in his, and noticed the ring.

A memory hit him hard. He walked into a bedroom, catching you sitting on the bed with a ring box in your hand, looking at the ring inside. He growled, stomping over and snatching it out of your hands. What the fuck? Don’t look through my things, he’d snapped. You’d smiled, raising an eyebrow. “Are you just mad you can’t surprise me? You’re a spy dating a spy, you should know better.” August’s expression had softened, giving you a glare. “Just don’t--don’t expect me to ask right now, alright? I was waiting... until the right time.” You nodded and kissed him, whispering, “I’ll wait, August. I’m not going anywhere.”

He came back, looking down at you and letting out this soft, heartbreaking sound. It all came back to him. You never gave up on him, after he’d disappeared and abandoned you. After they all would have told you he was dead, if they told you at all. After you probably found out why he was dead.  You still looked for him.

You intertwined your fingers and tugged him along, murmuring, “My hotel is down the street.”

August followed you, a hand nervously rubbing at the right side of his face. He knew he wasn’t the same man you had said goodbye to all those months ago, in a lot of different ways. Would you still love him, knowing he looks like a monster now? Knowing he is a monster? He briefly glanced at the folder you were carrying; knowing it was most likely the Lark files. But if you knew everything, why were you still here?

You got him back to your hotel room, locking the door and promptly turning around and wrapping your arms around his torso, giving him a hug. He was still so solid, making you feel protected and safe like always. That was one thing you loved so much about him-- you knew he would die before he let anything happen to you. 

August felt himself smile for possible the first time since he fell, wrapping his arms around you and hugging you tightly. It felt so nice to have you in his arms again. He was sort of glad he didn’t remember you until tonight-- he wasn’t sure if he would have survived all those months knowing what he was missing.

You pulled away slightly and looked up at him, a watery smile on your lips. “Fuck, I love you, August. I don’t know how you survived, but I’m so glad you did.” Deep down, you knew there was this part of him that he always refused to give you— now, you wanted it. You needed that part of him.

He brought a hand up to the nape of your neck, guided your face up to his. “I love you, too, angel.” He leaned down and kissed you, pulling the most beautiful, needy sound from your lips that made him instantly hard. 

It was a lot of emotions at once; happiness, relief, confusion, fear, arousal. But more than anything, August wanted to hold his baby and remember what it felt like to be loved.

“You’re wearing the ring now, huh?’ he asked with a groan, turning off the light as he guided you to the bed. The ambient lights from the city poured in from the open curtains, but he didn’t want to distract you with his face while he worshiped your body. He laid you down, reaching under your dress to pull it up over your hips.

You nodded, letting him pull the dress up and off you with ease. You tugged him down to get a taste of his lips again, murmuring, “Women travelling alone should wear a ring, that’s just common sense.”

August chuckled against your lips, pulling away enough to yank his shirt off. He hoped you wouldn’t be able to see the scars on his torso from the surgery. “Or did you just finally give up on waiting to be Mrs. Walker?”

You whined, grabbing at his belt with one hand while your other pulled off your panties. “Fuck, August, I need you now.”

Both of you were too desperate for each other to make it fancy; August unzipped his jeans, getting them and his briefs off as quickly as he could, then unceremoniously got on his knees and pulled you towards the edge of the bed, getting his mouth on you like the starving man he was.

You cried out, back arching as your hand made its way into his hair. You tugged as he ate you out like your cunt was his favorite meal, and he’d gone without for way too long. Which wasn’t too far from the truth.

August held your thighs open with his huge hands, a thumb close enough to rub circles on your clit while his tongue licked up and down your folds, slipping inside to fuck you with his tongue when you gave a sharp tug on his hair.

He moaned, and the vibrations set you off, panting out, “August, oh my god, I’m coming, I’m-I’m coming—“

He smirked as he felt you spasm around his tongue, your juices thoroughly soaking his beard. God, he missed this. He didn’t think he could ever forget your taste.

He pulled away when he felt your shaking thighs begin to settle, wiping off his beard with the sheet before he crawled up your body, leaving soft kisses as he went.

You blacked out a little, still convinced this might be a dream. You felt his hand on your breast, sucking a mark onto your neck and tickling you with the beard. You grinned, hands tangling in his hair again as you pulled him up for a kiss.

“August,” you sighed, nipping at his bottom lip and feeling his cock brush against your stomach. “Fuck me, please.”

“I love you.” You weren’t expecting that, and gasped when he pushed inside you, capturing your lips in a punishing kiss as he began go fuck you just like you asked.

He set a rough pace, deepening the kiss as he thrust into you deep, one hand on your hip anchoring you down. You pulled again with a moan as he hit a particular spot, crying out, “Fuck! Right there.”

August practically growled, driving into you harder as he felt his balls draw up and cock pulse inside you. You felt so fucking good, it all came back to him now. How no one made him feel as good as you.

“Come with me, baby, please,” he panted out, and you could hear the tinge of desperation in his voice, through the arousal and love. That’s what did it for you— you came hard, the feeling washing over you in waves and making you claw into his back, clinging onto a semblance of reality.

August stuttered in his movements, a few more sloppy thrusts before he came deep inside you, his cock shooting load after load of cum inside you as he let out a strangled groan. He felt himself still throbbing, carefully hauling you into his arms and cradling you against his chest as the aftershocks wore off.

Your eyes were shut, just soaking in the feeling of him inside you, still hard, his body like a furnace as he wrapped himself around you.

You listened to his heartbeat, counting it until you got somewhere in the 70s, every beat reminding you he was alive, he was here, you found him.

Eventually, he slipped out and sat up, but you clung to his torso, frowning. “Where are you—“

“I was going to clean us up,” he said quietly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. He didn’t want to leave you either, but he also remembered how strict he was on aftercare before. He didn’t want you to think he was slipping.

“We’re just going to get dirty again,” you murmured with a smile, leaning up to kiss him. “Then we can talk about how much of a bad boy you’re been,” you added offhandedly, too clouded by the orgasm to really want to get into it now.

August tensed, swallowing. “Look, what you read— it’s… well, I can explain—“

“Tomorrow,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to the centre of his chest, swirling a finger through the chest hair still damp with sweat. “Or the day after that, or the day after that. We can start a new life now.”

He brushed a piece of hair away from your face, drawing shapes on your back. “I’m dead, baby. I can’t have a life anymore.”

“That’s why you can. They’re not looking for you, August.” You rested your hand on his chest, letting the light from the moon glint off the right on your finger. “We can be together, like we always wanted to. Out in the open.”

August sighed, and when you glanced up at him, he was turned to the right, hiding his face from your eyes. “A lot is different now. I look on the outside the way I am on the inside. I wouldn’t blame you for letting a dead man stay dead.”

You sat up suddenly, grabbing his face and turning it towards you. “August, stop it. You are not a monster, not to me.”

He met your eyes, a tear silently falling from the undamaged one. You wiped it away with your thumb, leaning in and softly kissing along the scarred side of his face, barely brushing your lips over his eyelid before you pressed a gently kiss to his lips. “We are going to figure it out, okay?”

He nodded, voice shaky. “I just wanted to make the world a better place for you. For our children.”

“Shh,” you soothed, straddling his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck. You slowly ground your core against his cock, feeling it already start to harden again as you kissed down his neck.

“I love you. Show me you love me, August. Show me you’re still alive.”

[pinkcoffeecup]

coffee breaks, spencer reid

summary: Spencer finds himself smitten by the girl in the coffee shop

warnings: Sexual implications (mainly flirty jokes), otherwise just super sweet.

word count: 1813

Everyone knew how much Spencer loved coffee, in fact, some would argue that it was what kept him alive. Despite this, he’d never been the biggest fan of coffee shops. The thought of sitting alone in a room full of people as he tried to concentrate on the book he was currently reading, or the case he was currently working on, just made him rather anxious. He couldn’t help but feel like everyone was watching him, whispering about the way he liked his coffee or making fun of the clothes he was wearing. So, instead, Spencer had resorted to ordering to-go coffees for the past decade.

But for the last couple of weeks, his trips to the local coffee shop had gotten longer, and the team of profilers surrounding him hadn’t failed to notice the missing paper cup in his hand as he made his way back through the doors. “Do you think he’s actually getting coffee? Or is he just bored of us?” JJ joked, nodding towards Spencer's empty desk.

“No, Spencer is definitely getting coffee, probably more than before. Have you missed how fast he speaks?” Prentiss joked, recalling the many times they’d had to ask him to slow down as he tried to explain something to them.

“I think he’s got a girl,” Morgan smirked, “If you ask me, pretty boy found his pretty girl,”

Spencer couldn’t help but feel giddy as he walked through the coffee shop entrance for the fourth time that week. “Spencer!” Y/n smiled as she saw him, “What can I get you this fine afternoon?” She joked.

“You know, the usual,” He smiled, “I’m a very consistent man,”

He watched as she chuckled at his joke, typing his order into the old cash register. “Oh, I’ve noticed,” She giggled, “You’re here, what, twice a day? Just for a simple coffee?”

“Not only the coffee,” He looked through his wallet for a five-dollar bill, “I’m also here for the great staff,”

Once again, he watched her giggle, not missing the way a slight blush made its way to her cheeks. He handed her the bill, only for her to push it back to him, “It’s on the house,” She smiled.

“No, come on, I want to pay,” Spencer insisted, trying to hand her the bill once more, “Please,”

“Spencer, let my boss pay you for this coffee,” She joked, “It’s not like I’m paying for it,”

He couldn’t help but laugh, remembering the time he’d met her complete jerk-boss. He’d talked to her like she was a dog, and it had taken everything inside of Spencer to stay put in his seat. The man was a textbook narcissist, and Spencer wanted nothing more than to whisk Y/n away from the situation. “Fine, then consider it a gift,” He tried.

“Just let me give you one free coffee,” she rolled her eyes playfully. Spencer only sighed, placing the bill back in his wallet. “Fine,” he muttered, watching her laugh again before he sat down at his usual table.

The coffee shop was rather empty today, with only Spencer and two other people in opposite corners of the room. He pulled up the case file from his bag, placing it on the table in front of him before opening it up. Usually, he avoided looking at case details in public places, not wanting to scar the people who accidentally caught a glimpse of the horrific photographs hidden in the dark beige paper folder. But today, Spencer was only reviewing old files of robberies.

“Here you go,” Y/n smiled, placing the cup on his table. “I hope your free coffee tastes good,” she added. Spencer chuckled, “I hope you don’t go bankrupt,”

“Oh, you’ve met my boss, he’s got like five businesses and is absolutely loaded, I don’t think it’d hurt his wallet,” Y/n said, only half-joking. There was no denying that Y/n too hated her boss and the way he’d act like he was the most important man in the room at all times.

“Yeah, he’s a piece of shit,” Spencer agreed, closing the case file again. “It took everything in me not to say something,”

Y/n let out an annoyed groan as she pictured her boss walking through the doors. She took a quick glance, only making sure that it had only been her imagination before she slid into the chair in front of Spencer. “You should’ve seen what he did the other day,” She giggled, leaning in close as if her boss was lurking around the corner.

Spencer leaned across the table, meeting her halfway. “What’d he do?” he whispered.

“There’s this new girl here,” Y/n began, “She’s only nineteen, and the other day she got a call while she was at work. She just found out her dad had been in a car accident, he was fine, but hospitalised. So she, obviously, asked our boss if she could leave early, to which he started yelling at her for not putting work first,”

“Are you kidding me?” Spencer watched as Y/n shook her head, “Nope, he said something like: What’s more important? Family or work?”

Y/n continued rambling about her god awful boss, but Spencer couldn’t focus on her stories. He just couldn’t help but study her face, the small freckles on her cheeks, and the way she’d look at him through her eyelashes as she spoke. The way she giggled between her sentences, and the way she tucked her hair behind her ears. He was completely mesmerised by her.

“Are you not going to drink your coffee?” She asked, her voice still soft as she leaned a little closer. “What?” Spencer questioned, only now being snapped out of his daze.

“Your coffee,” She repeated, giggling this time, “It’s getting cold,”

Spencer glanced at the white cup next to him, “Right,” He said, “the coffee,”

She leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms across her chest. “Here I am, making you a free coffee, and now you don’t even want to drink it,” She jokingly threw her head back in annoyance, “Men these days have no decency,”

“Actually, you are statistically correct about that. Some argue that it is statistically proven that men do not put in the effort to appear kind or welcoming since it’s not expected of them,” Spencer rambled, not being able to pass up the opportunity to flaunt his knowledge, “But I like to think that I don’t come across as arrogant as most of them,”

Y/n couldn’t help but drop her annoyed act, smiling at the man in front of her. “You know,” She began, “There is something weird about you, I can’t really put my finger on it, but I really like it,”

It was Spencer's turn to blush, smiling as he looked down at the coffee in front of him. “You’re not too bad yourself Y/n,” he smiled, not quite sure how to respond.

“Do you want to know why I gave you a free coffee?” She asked, suppressing a giddy smile as she awaited Spencer's response. “I’d love to Y/n,” He said, hoping that she’d say what he was thinking.

“Well, you’re always nice to me, and you seem genuine about it too, not like you’re trying to get into my pants or something,” She began, watching an adoring smile spread across Spencer’s cheeks. “I guess I kind of look forward to seeing you here every day,”

For a second or two, Spencer remained silent. If he was completely honest, he didn’t know quite how to respond to her words. He very clearly looked forward to seeing her every day, so much that he vacated to the coffee shop at every chance he was given. He’d completely ignored the perfectly good coffee machine at the BAU, only to see her. “I do try,” Spencer smiled, “Glad to see my efforts are being appreciated,”

“I must say, I quite enjoy coming here too. Not only for the coffee,” He smiled, watching her cheeks blush once again. “You are honestly the highlight of my day,”

The two sat in silence for a moment, soaking up each other's words for as long as possible. But Spencer’s buzzing phone soon ruined the moment. “Sorry,” He muttered reading the text on the display. It was Hotch, letting him know that he needs to be back at work. “Duty calls,” He chuckled.

“Good luck Dr Reid,” Y/n smiled, watching as he chugged the coffee and grab his things.

He stood from his seat, “I, uh, thank you for the coffee,” He said, suddenly nervous. But Y/n only smiled, watching as he took a few steps towards the door.

His hand was almost on the handle before he turned back, meeting Y/n back at the table. “Sorry, I was just hoping that I could repay you for that coffee,” He said.

“What do you have in mind?” Y/n asked, hoping that he’d understand what she was getting at.

“Well, I was thinking dinner, but if you have anything different in mind, I would gladly do that instead,” Spencer grinned, noticing how she tensed her back ever so slightly at his words. “Let me know when you’re free,”

Spencer turned back towards the door, proudly walking away. “Wait, I don’t have your number,” Y/n remembered. “It’s under the cup,” He laughed, walking out the door.

...

Spencers proud steps continued as he pushed open the BAU doors, smiling as he thought back to his conversation with Y/n. “What’s got you all giddy?” JJ asked as Spencer plopped down in his chair. “What? Nothing?” Spencer tried, somehow forgetting he was in a room full of profilers. “Is she hot?” Emily asked, not bothering to filter her thoughts.

“Emily!” JJ scolded, ignoring Morgans laughter from behind her. “Is she though?” Morgan continued, causing Spencer to let out an annoyed groan.

Morgan sat down on the side of Spencer’s desk, showing that he wasn’t going anywhere without Spencer sharing his secrets. “This has to be against some kind of workplace regulation,” Spencer muttered, running a hand through his hair.

“Oh, and you running off to hop your girlfriend's bones during your breaks isn’t?” Morgan joked, loving the way Spencer's face turned bright red.

“Morgan, that is not what I’m doing,” Spencer tried, but the team only laughed, “And if it was, I wouldn’t tell you,” he added.

Spencer had never been happier to see Hotch’s serious expression than when he stepped out of his office, distracting the team from Spencer’s love life. “We’ve got a case,” He said, causing Spencer to let out a relieved breath.

“Saved by the bell,” Prentiss joked, as they dispersed from Spencer's desk. Right as he was about to get up from his seat, his phone buzzed once again.

Dr Reid, I’m free Friday night.

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[wndrcarol]

my little tease | s.c.

summary: sharon doesn't like you being a tease, especially in her own firm.

a/n: and we're back! maybe, who knows. this is just testing the waters with writing once more since it's been a min. I hope you guys enjoy and sorry for any typos!

warnings: strap-on use, fingering, spanking, choking, hair pulling, "ma'am" use, edging, dom!sharon, sub!r, cursing + dirty talk - ya know, the whole nine

18+ readers please! Do not repost/plagiarize my work anywhere!

-

"Shut the door" Sharon said, her fingers clicking against the keyboard quickly before she turned to you. The small smirk on your face was hidden when you turned to shut the door. You knew it would come to this once everyone left.

All day you had been needy. Sharon had been too busy taking care of everyone but you and you couldn't take it anymore. So you did what you knew best and that was to drive Sharon mad.

From being in meetings and letting your hand rub her thigh, slowly inching it's way upwards, making her glare at you. After the meeting, Sharon followed you into the bathroom, pinning you against the stall door as you smirked at her.

"In front of everyone? Someones a bit bold today" Sharon groaned in annoyance; her hand gripped your arm as the other laid on the stall door beside your head. The smirk dropped from your face as you frowned softly at her.

"I'm sorry, ma'am," you said, batting your lashes softly at her as you hooked your fingers in her belt loops and pulled her closer. "I'll make it up to you, I promise" you said as you placed a kiss against her neck as she sighed out. She moved her hand to grip your jaw, pulling you away from her neck.

"Don't worry, I know you will" she smirked softly before leaving you in the stall. Ever since then, you couldn't stop thinking about what would happen in her office as it only made your head spin with the possibilities.

Turning back around, Sharon sat back in her seat as you slowly made your way to her desk, eyes flickering from her and back to the folders in your hands.

"You've got some nerve" Sharon gritted, her eyes burning holes through you as you simply smirked at her. Shrugging your shoulders, you placed the pile of folders on her desk, leaning down a bit as her eyes trailed down your chest.

"I'm sorry but I don't know what you mean" you said, the innocent act dripping from your words as Sharon groaned and leaned closer to you. Her hand brushed softly against yours on the file as she looked up at you before standing up.

"Is that so?" She said as she stepped around the desk to stand infront of you. Her eyes traveled back down onto your chest that was exposed from the buttons you had undone before you vame into her office.

Her hands reached up and pulled the shirt apart, the other buttons making a soft 'pop' as you let out a gasp.

"Did you have your fun wearing this all day? Acting like a tease?" Sharon said, her finger trailing under your bra strap, pulling it and letting it snap against your skin.

Gasping softly, you smirked at her as she pulled the shirt down your arms. "It got your attention, didn't it?" You said as she stopped, her face tilting to the side slightly before she let out a soft 'tsk tsk'

"Is that what you want? Attention?" Sharon cooed as she swiftly turned you around, pulling you flush against her body. One hand trailed down to stay on your hip as the other moved up your bidy, landing on your neck.

"Well then, let me give you exactly what you want" Sharon said, her hand on your neck squeezing the area as you let out a gasp followed by a whimper. You could feel heat prick your skin as you rubbed your thighs together. Your head spun as you became overwhelmed with getting what you had been waiting for.

Moving her other hand from your hip, Sharon slipped her hand between your legs, pushing up the skirt until her fingers rested on your covered clit. She slowly rubbed her fingers as her grip around your throat tightened. A choked moan left your mouth as you rocked your hips on her fingers.

"All this for me?" Sharon chuckled as she slowly pushed the fabric to the side and let her fingers run between your folds, now slick with how wet you'd become. "All this because of how needy you are?" She asked again as you let out another moan and shut your eyes, reeling in the sensation as Sharon groaned softly.

"Speak, whore" Sharon said, smacking your clit quickly. The sudden movement made your body jolt lightly as you whimpered and nodded your head eagerly.

"Yes" you moaned out as she continued to rub your clit slowly. Your hips rocked against her finger as she leaned close to your ear.

"Yes what?" Sharon asked, her breath soflty fanned your skin, making you shiver slighty.

"Yes ma'am" you moaned out once more as she hummed in approval. Sharon dipped her fingers lower, slowly dipping two fingers into you and curling them lightly as you let out a gasp.

"That's it" Sharon said, her hand moving away from your throat as she placed a kiss against the skin there. "All mine" she whispered, continuing to pump her fingers into you.

Your head felt hazy as Sharon held you against her while she curled her fingers into you, the slick sounds filled her office as you continued to moan out.

Pleasure shot through your body as you rocked your hips against her fingers inside you, pumping in and out quickly. Her thumb moved to lay and rub on your clit as you gasped, bucking your hips outward.

"Please" you moaned out as Sharon chuckled behind you. You could feel the knot in your stomach begin to tighten embarrsingly quickly as you continued to rock your hips.

"Awe, does my whore wanna come?" Sharon cooed behind you as she curled her fingers once more, hiting the right spot as your mouth dropped open with a moan.

Placing a kiss on your neck, Sharon quickly pulled her fingers out of you as you whimpered, shaking softly at the loss of touch.

Pushing your over to the desk, Sharon shoved the paperwork side and even onto the floor. Laying you onto the desk face down, Sharon pulled your panties down, looking at the wet spot on them that you'd left behind.

Softly running her finger between your folds, she then moved her hand to spank your ass as you whined out.

"Think I'd let you come that easy?" Sharon asked, a chuckle following as she spanked your ass once more before rubbing her hand softly on the mark.

Pushing your hips back, you ground against Sharon, feeling the strap she had placed on in the time she'd been waiting for you to come into her office. You had felt it earlier but didn't want to say anything.

"For me?" You asked turning to face her with a smirk on your face. You imitated her quote bacj to her as she let out a groan, her hand coming up and tugging at your hair.

"All for you" Sharon chuckled as she pulled out the silcone and slowly ran it between your folds. Your hips bucked as she rubbed your clit, a whimper leaving your lips.

"You want it so bad" Sharon said as she leaned down towards you, her hand tightly gripping your hair still. "Fucking beg for it."

Whimpering out, your scalp burned slightly, but that only fueled the pleasure coursing through your body still.

"Please, ma'am" you moaned out as Sharon continued to rub the tip between your folds, teasing you.

"You can do better. I know you can" Sharon encouraged you, smacking your ass in the same spot. The burning of your skin made you whine out.

"Please fuck me. I'll be good, please" you whined as a moan followed. Sharon chuckled before thrusting into you slowly. Moaning out, you felt Sharon move her free hand to lay on your hip as she stayed close to your ear.

"Was that so hard?" She said before pulling back and standing back up. Pulling out slowly, she slammed back into you, making your grip onto the desk edge in front of you as you moaned loudly.

"Taking me so good" Sharon said, thrusting into you roughly. The squelched sounds filled the room as you moaned out, the cold surface of the desk beneath you doing nothing to help cool your heating skin down.

You could feel yourself drip down your thighs as your whimpered out. Sharon tugged your hair once more, pulling your face up as she leaned close.

"Such a good little whore for me, aren't you?" She asked, a smile on her face as you nodded. Moaning out, you felt the knot reappear again.

"Only for you, ma'am" you mustered out as a moan interrupted you. Your head felt fuzzy from the wave of pleasure shooting through you.

"That's it" Sharon said, smacking your ass as you jolted soflty, a yelp leaving your lips. "All mine"

"Fuck" you moaned out as Sharon grunted, her fingers digging into your hip before smacking your ass once more.

The pressure in your stomach got tighter as you felt Sharon reach down and rub your clit quickly. Before you knew it, your grip on the desk tightened as you let out a string of moans, feeling the knot burst.

A wave of pleasure washed over you as you laid there, feeling Sharon continue to thrust into you, her hand leaving your hair to grip your other hip.

"That's it. Such a good girl" Sharon praised, her thrusts slowing as you whimpered, shaking softly when she pulled out.

Pulling you up slowly, she held you against her once more as she leaned down and pressed a kiss against your shoulder. You saw yourself slightly in the window reflection that faced outside. You looked a mess, but you didn't care.

"You did so good" Sharon softly praised as she kissed your skin once more. "But next time you wanna be a tease, I won't go this easy" she smirked as you turned to face her.

"I'll take that as a challenge"

-

feedback is appreciated!

[writingsbychlo]

sun in the shadows (13)

word count; 12,860

summary; your final exam is right on the horizon, and on the other side of it, you and noah have a much-needed conversation.

notes; I mean you’re welcome but also ouch.

warnings; get a glass of wine and come back.

The pair were already chatting when you arrived, the same setting but a different day, a coffee shop you only had a few trips left to visit before your time on campus was over.

They had found themselves nestled away at a table you’d rarely frequented, in fact, you weren’t sure you’d ever sat at it, but it somehow seemed fitting for your final few trips. Tucked away near the back, a square-shaped table with a stack of sugar packets wedged under one of the legs to stop it from wobbling, but still a direct sight from the door, only partially hidden by the counter.

They were playing ‘rock, paper, scissors’, over what, you weren’t sure, but you’d take a guess it was to do with the almost empty plastic cups sitting out in front of the pair. Stiles lost, dramatically whining, and with every step closer to the table you could hear his mumbled complaints louder and louder as he stood, patting down his pockets, and producing his wallet from the back one.

“Oh, now you decide to arrive, right when I’m buying the next round. Seems right.” He was teasing, but you rolled your eyes at him nonetheless, and your jaw dropped for a second to give him your order, but he was waving his hand.

“You’ll both take what you get. It’s a surprise.” There was a wicked grin on his face, one that made you doubt you’d get anything decent, probably a weird mixture of syrups and sprinkles and tea, or something worse, but he was already walking away from you, a blurred mixture of flapping flannel as he swept into the late afternoon crowds.

Dropping down the considerably smaller stack of folders and files onto the table, and placing your bag by the leg of the table, you pulled out one of to remaining seats. Sitting opposite to the boys’ seats, the quieter of the two, who remained, was sitting unsettlingly still before you. Glancing up at him as you settled yourself, he let out a slow breath, shoulders sink as his head hung low, staring down at the scratched-up surface of the well-worn tabletop.

“You guys been here long, then?”

“Uh, not really. We came early, so take no mind of Stiles.” He didn’t look up, continuing to stare at the table, one finger now tracing one of the deeper scratches that were marked into the wood, and his response made you frown.

“Are you alright, Noah?” He only shrugged, and you stayed silent, tapping a few times at the top of one of your folders, thick silence sitting between you both despite the noise of the bustling little café. He was cold, once again, and yet not as cold as he had been. He was distant, completely dispatched from you as though your history had ever happened at all, and the feeling that you were being shut out was back.

It was chilling, the same kind of tension you had forgotten could exist between you both. Something felt like it had changed, the night he’d walked you home from the party had been different, he’d opened up and spoken about how he really felt, and yet now he was reverting right back to the beginning of the study, going back to his old ways, as if that was how he preferred it all to be.  

“Are you sure?”

He looked up this time, nothing in his eyes but honesty as he nodded, another soft shrug like it was the only answer he was capable of giving. Your only shoulders sunk, disappointed at his behaviour, and that seemed to spark a flash of guilt to come up across his features, no matter how hard he tries to keep them steady. “I’m fine. Just thinking about this evening, is all.”

“Oh, you have plans?” He’d dropped a line, one you were truly hoping you’d be able to pick up, pull along a little more, delve deeper with, but the blank and unreadable expression was back, his brows a little furrowed and his lips twisted down at the edges, but not enough to wrinkle the pale, freckled skin.

“Uh, yeah. Boyd invited me to go and watch the game with a couple of people at his place. Erica is making cookies, apparently.” You only nodded, mouth dry with nothing to say, and he seemed to realise it, the silence coming back as he squirmed in his seat. Glancing to the counter, Stiles was now at the front of the queue, placing his order and swiping his card across the screen before putting it back in his wallet, and your focus moved to the files under your hand, finding your nail still tapping. “You keep up with football much?”

Stopping the nervous action of your hand, you laid your palms flat against the paper folders instead, shaking your head debut letting your smile grow a little as some of the tension slipped away. “Not really, just enough to fool people.”

A huffed out laugh was all that the joke had earned you, but it was at least a gesture, something the Noah you’d started this work with so long ago would have covered up, the development was certainly something. “You keep up with any other sports?”

And then, with that question, it clicked. You couldn't stop your laugh. It was light and delicate, nothing too sincere as it wasn’t actually that funny, but the spark of humour it had given you was enough. Glittering curiosity was read in deep-brown eyes, and you relaxed, slumping back in your seat as you tried to find the words to explain it to him without making him feel self-conscious.

“What’s so funny?”

“You’re using small talk on me.” One of his brows raised, the thick spot twitching as it lifted, and your grin only stretched. “The method I taught you, of making the other person talk to fill the silence, asking questions, and all that.”

“Well, it seemed less awkward than sitting in silence.” He smiled with his own words, but it was empty, and the emptiness of it shot a chill through your body, making your smile flicker, until it was sinking away, and you tried not to let a frown replace it. You hated to think that was what you had been reduced to, simply awkward silence and pure tension, instead of the relaxed and happy space you’d once been able to share without words needing to fill the quiet.

Like a saving grace, Stiles swept in, placing a drink down in front of you that sloppy over the edge, before he was putting another plastic cup down in front of his brother, and slurping at his own immediately, before he’d even sat back down. Mopping up the spilt bit of your drink, Stiles’ chair scraped on the floor, a noise that brought shudders, before dropping down into it with no decorum, and stretching long legs out under the table to bump his feet with yours.

“So, what’d I miss?”

“I don’t know much about football, and that’s about it.” You muttered, regretting the venom you’d managed to let seep into your voice, wincing a little, and ducking your head to stare down at the folders you’d brought with you. If professional and detached was the setting for your meeting, then you’d be able to match that just fine. “What exactly am I drinking, here, Sti? Some kind of weird mixture, I assume?”

“Normally, yes, but they’ve started charging per extra syrup pump that's not part of the drink, and I don’t want to have to pay to prank you.” Stiles shot a false glare to the counter as he spoke, and you grinned, raising it to take a deeper inhale. “So, you’ve just got tea. Hope that works.”

“It’ll be fine.” You promised, pacing it back down and leaving it a few moments to cool, before moving to hand a file out to both of them. Placing the thin paper packets down before them both, their names written neatly at the top of them both in block capitals, their attentions moved to it in synchronicity, and you wanted to snicker at their identical reactions. “These are the final folders. I’ve already typed up everything I need to know for tomorrow and put my presentation together, so this is really just formalities. Go through, sign the documents, just be extra sure there’s nothing you want to be taken out.”

Your eyes drifted to Noah as you said it, watching his face wrinkle a little in the middle as his nose screwed up at the mention of information being taken out or put in, a slightly sensitive topic still, but you tried to move on from it quickly.

“Just both shoot me an email tonight, letting me know if you’re cool with it or if you need any last-minute changes, but that's about it.” You still had a matching folder sitting in front of you, the original copy, a little thicker than theirs though as your own held additions. A typed up version of what you needed to say, a script for your assessment you could call it, with every note and practice question answered that you could possibly think of. When they were ready, you’d be able to start going through it with them.

Stiles flicked through the file a lot faster than Noah moved through his, he already knew what to expect, all the terminology of the contracts and the promises about confidentiality, he had drafted similar contracts of his own for his assessment, but Noah was unfamiliar. His gaze was moving over every word slowly, like he was trying to memorise it all, although you suspected he didn’t have that much interest, but was simply avoiding the topic.

“After this, we’ll be totally done.” Your words were bitter, a test, like they might signify something else, and while Stiles only hummed around his straw, taking another large drink of his frozen coffee, Noah stiffened a little, swallowing thickly and glancing up at you.

“Well, there’s still tomorrow.”

“Yeah, still tomorrow, I guess.” Your voice was weak, more like a whisper, and the stare between you both was lingering. It was like a silent question, spoken by both of you as you tried to decipher the other. your eyes narrowed a little, thoroughly confused by his new attitude, as it seemed completely against everything he’d wanted so deeply weeks ago. It was a topic that had to be discussed, the situation had to be broached at some point, but you couldn't focus on that now, not when you had such important things to worry about, with a much shorter deadline.

Unfortunately, Noah would just have to wait.

With a deep breath, you pushed every last worry you had for him out of your mind. You didn’t know what he was thinking, and what had changed, but whatever it was, it could be dealt with later. Right now, you needed to focus, and you needed to get this right. There were no more times for screw-ups and do-overs, you needed to get it done now. “I do have an online copy of all of these, as well as the physical ones, so once you’ve signed it, I can make PDFs of your contracts and send them over to you. I promise these are professional, all work.”

Running a finger down along the side of one page, near to where all the papers met, Noah glanced up, his finger falling from the edge of the paper, and sitting on the food again. “Extra wide margins?”

“In case you want to make any notes.”

“Ah, okay.” His focus moved back down, not lingering this time, and you didn’t acknowledge the slight longing you had simply to meet his gaze.

“These are also the same versions that I have made copies of for each of the judges to have tomorrow, so again, if there’s anything you ant taken out, you need to let me know.” You prompted, both boys only nodding as their attentions were fixed on the appears, another identical move that was almost too in sync, and you let yourself be amused by it, to fill up some of the empty feeling you suddenly found yourself with. “Do either of you have any new questions ‘bout tomorrow?”

“You have so much more work than I did at this stage.” Stiles hummed, closing his booklet again and resigning himself to properly checking it later. “All my study subjects were prisoners. All their contracts were on a file, and everything had to be submitted as video entries.”

“Not technically a question, more of a gloat.” You grinned, and Stiles smirked, making you roll your eyes at the snicker he offered to accompany it. “You’re starting to make me wish that I was the one who had chosen the prisoner card.” You were only joking, but there was a soft layer of truth to it that you were sure everyone had been able to pick out, because despite seeming like the easier task, it had come with a burden and a lot of pain.

“Oh, you wish that, do you?” Resting his forearms on the table, he was leaning towards you, brows raising challengingly, and you knew that he was gearing up for a story. “I felt like Clarice Starling!”

“You took your big bad boyfriend with you every time, and this isn’t a murder case, Sti.” He scowled, staring at you blankly, and taking the challenge as he settled back in his seat.

“Okay, I’m gonna’ set the scene for you-”

“You’ve really set him off now.” Noah sighed, a tinge of amusement to his voice but neither of you laughed, the tension still seemed a little too much to fully relax. Stiles was taking the attention, though. He was slipping away into a story, occupying the moment, and making sure that all of your attention was on him. Hand waves, sudden jerks, rising in his voice until he was shushed by the surrounding patrons, but this was nothing you weren’t used to with Stiles.

You weren’t sure if he knew how tense it was and was trying to distract you, or whether he was completely oblivious, but either way, he made everything a little easier He gave you something to put attention on, making it a lot easier to forget your constant urge to look over at Stiles, and simply try and listen to his story.

He spoke fast and skipped some important details to get to his favourite parts, it was hard to keep up with it all, but you didn’t mind, because it was enough to fill the quiet, and you were just enjoying spending time with your best friend.

These kinds of moments would be a lot harder to come by in a few weeks. Once Stiles moved across the country to explore and live with Derek, you’d be downgraded from dinner dates and coffee trips to instead texts and phone calls different by timezones, only seeing one another at holidays.

As for Noah, you were unsure what would happen between the two of you after a few weeks. You’d started the year with nothing but wide open nothingness for the future, and at some point, Noah had become interwoven with it all, plans beginning to make themselves known in your mind, but now, you were right back to having no clue where you were going.

The bell above the door jingled, your attention being drawn away from the boys momentarily, and you glanced at it. Upon seeing who had entered, your lips formed a smile, hand waving of its own accord to wave at the tall boy practically filling the entrance, his eyes flickering over the few residents of the coffeeshop until his gaze met yours. Tipping his head back to move bouncy brown curls from his face, white teeth flashed in a smile to you, and he began to weave his way through the crowds.

Moving your sights from him to the clock sitting on the wall, roman numerals instead of numbers behind the hands, you were a little shocked to see just how much time had gone by. A moderately uncomfortable and utterly awkward encounter had slipped away with ease when Stiles had decided to break the tension with his story, one that was being told in the background, but the words had become faded nose to your ears now as your mind had clicked back into action.

Folding shut the folder you had sitting out in front of yourself, you heard Stiles’ voice abruptly go flat as he realised just how long he’d been talking, and you could sense matching sets of brown eyes lingering on you. As you reached for your bag, a lanky shadow fell across the table, scuffed sneakers and funky patterned socks in your sights, two that didn’t match, and as you rose back up to sit straight with your bag clutched in hand, Isaac was grinning at you, hands tucked in his pockets.

“Hey, guys.” He sent a polite nod to the two boys as you set your bag on the table, opening it up and beginning to pack away your scattered belongings inside. Stiles was wearing a bright smile, offering a greeting back before slurping loudly at his drink as he tried to get the last sip through the straw, and Noah wore a deep frown. Your eyes narrowed on him for a second, his gaze flicking to you briefly, before he was turning to look at Isaac again. “You ready to go?”

“Pretty much!” You beamed, hopping down from the seat that you were sat on, and adjusting your bag onto your shoulder, double-checking your gaze across the table in case you’d forgotten anything. Noah was scowling now, your eyes narrowing on him once again, and he picked up his coffee, staring pensively into the barely remaining and now room-temperature liquid, before bringing it to his lips.

“Who the fuck wears scarves in June?” He mumbled, a little louder on purpose because your eyes widened while he took an innocent sip of his coffee, almost choking on it when he received a rather rough elbow to his ribs from his twin, and it was your turn to scowl, in retaliation for his behaviour.

“Hey!” His eyes were wide and falsely innocent as they moved to you upon being chastised, and he lowered his cup, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand.

“What?” He kept the rouse, and Isaac chuckled beside you as you sighed disappointedly. Freeing a hand from the tight pockets of his even tighter skinny jeans - you really weren’t sure how Isaac was able to breathe in them, actually - he reached across the table.

“You must be Noah, then. My girlfriend told me I could expect that kind of reaction from you.” Noah’s cheeky expression faltered a little as he slipped his hand begrudgingly into Isaac’s, shaking once, but his sights had once again moved to fix on yours. “Speaking of my girlfriend, shall we go and meet her for lunch?”

“Yes, let’s.” You glared at Noah as the frown returned, but a slight pink hue to his cheeks to match it, and Stiles smirked, barely covering a laugh as he stared at his brother for a second longer, before turning back to both you and Isaac.

“Ah, so you’re the roommate’s boyfriend whom I’ve heard so much about?”

“Good things, I hope?” Isaac offered, shooting you a wary glance as he shook Stiles’ hand, and you shrugged, a ‘maybe, maybe not’ added onto the act, simply to tease him further. “Well, it’s been a pleasure finally meeting you both, I hear a lot about you both, too. We should get a drink sometime, or something.”

“We’d like that, wouldn’t we, Noah?” Slinging an arm over his brother’s shoulders, Noah only nodded, avoiding all eye contact now as he held his moody expression, but it was one that you knew well enough to know was utterly fake, and simply for show.

“Okay, well, we’re leaving now. This is terribly awkward, and I hate it.” Patting a finger against the top of Stiles’ folder, you brought their focus back to the study for a final moment. “Remember to email me later, alright?”

“You got it! Totally will do. One hundred percent.”

“I’m serious, Stiles!”

“I know!” He defended, the same silly and amused smirk on his face when he made himself laugh, and youtube yes rolled involuntarily as you let out a sigh. “Go to lunch already, why are you still here?”

“Fine, fine, I’m going.” You waved, moving back and sensing Isaac already walking away, the rattle of keys telling you that he’d fished the set for his card from his pocket. Moving your gaze from Stiles to Noah, he’d dared to look up and meet your eye, gaze flicking over your face carefully, before he let the act go. Shoulders sinking back down from hunched up and features relaxing, he offered a small smile, and it was one that you were able to mimic.

“See you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, see you tomorrow. Your words came out as a quiet breath, lingering a second longer, before breaking the stare.

Turning your back on him, you quickly caught up with Isaac, who was holding open the door for you, letting you slip back out into the warm summer sun rays. His car was parked just out front, shiny and polished under the light and the windows were still rolled down for fresh air on a hot day, the lights flashing as he unlocked it.

Climbing into the passenger seat, he settled into his side, starting the car up, and pulling out from his parking space. Jazz music played quietly from the radio, and he had barely let a minute pass, before he was pulling up to the first stoplights, and turning to face you, hands flexing against the steering wheel.

“So, that’s Noah, huh?”

“Yeah.” You mumbled, meeting his gaze but unsure of what else there was to say. You simply shrugged, brows dipping slightly in a furrow, and he offered a comforting smile, just a small twist of his lips upwards, before moving his attention back to the roads.

“You know-” Turning down the volume on the radio again as a slightly louder song began to play, trumpets blaring with more excitement than there had been before. “Noah is clearly into you.”

“Yeah, that's what I thought, before he spent the whole time ignoring me.” You huffed, and Isaac only gave a chuckle, like he knew something you didn’t, and your arms crossed over your chest, slumping down in the car seat to stare out of the window, looking towards the horizon as cars came and went in your view.

“Okay, I’m going to let you in on a little guy secret,” It had taken you a couple of meetings to get used to Isaac, he was shy and nervous when he’d first come to dinner at your apartment to meet yourself and Lydia, but you’d quickly realised just how well he and Allison worked, and once he’d broken out of his shell, Isaac had proven to be a pretty good new friend. “We say girls are confusing, but really, we’re just confused and confusing ourselves.”

“That’s confusing.”

“I know.” He beamed, flicking into the parking lot of a slightly presumptuous looking restaurant, flashy neon signs outside and bought-in palm trees sitting in pots to match the eternal summer and tropical vibe it was trying to create. “Thing is, we just get worked up like you, alright? We overthink and we panic and we get really nervous when we think we’re about to mess up with someone we like. So much so that we try and play it cool, so you don’t know just how much we’re trying not to let it show how much we’re freaking out.”

“Yeah?” Your words were followed by a sigh, staring blankly at your hands in your lap.

“Yeah.” He was staring out of the window when you looked up to listen, knowing more was to come, and you followed his gaze. Allison was sitting at one of the outdoor tables, oversized sunglasses sitting on her face as she stared down at her phone, legs popped up on another more chair and a glass of wine already out in front of her, making herself more than comfortable in the restaurant’s outdoor seating area. “Trust me, I would know.”

You gave him a moment more silence, a small grin trying to form on your face as you watched Isaac get stuck in a moment, simply staring at your roommate. Then, he jumped a little, clearing his mind of where he’d slipped away to. His cheeks were pink as he turned back to face you.

“Uh, anyway, I’m pretty sure Noah has fallen hard for you. Just because he wasn’t looking at you when you were looking at him, doesn’t mean he wasn’t looking at all. He glared at me, though. Kinda’ funny.”

“It wasn’t funny.” You huffed, rolling your eyes at him and leaning down to collect your bag from sitting beside your feet. “You know, if we don’t go soon, Ally is gonna’ kill us. I think she’s seen us.” Pointing out of the window, Allison was waving excitedly from the table clearly having spotted you both, and neither of you could help from laughing at her.

“Well, then, let’s go. I’m starving.”

The sun was warm as you stepped from the car, grey clouds on the horizon barely visible, your fried sill waving excitedly.

Now, as you stepped closer to the table, you could see that she’d already gotten menus for you both too, a glass sitting out before each seat, and a bottle of wine still sitting in the centre of the table inside of an ice bucket. Taking your seat, she was beaming, pushing her sunglasses up from the bridge of her nose to sit atop her head, and she squealed a little as she came over to hug you.

“‘Bout time.”

“I’m perfectly on time for everything today, why does everyone keep saying I’m late!” You huffed, knowing it was simply a joke, laughing as you hugged her back, and she knew it too if her laugh was any indication.

“Ouch, your coffee date didn’t go so well?”

“You know, with the current standard of things, it kind of reminds me of when you’d call our meetings coffee dates before everything.” Your eyes couldn't help but roll, smiling nonetheless and taking your seat, averting your gaze to the menus that were laid out as ally and Isaac had their own greetings. Scrapings of chair legs on stone panels, and then Allison was pouring you a glass of wine, before moving on to Isaac, who promptly refused as he insisted on driving.

“So, things are a bit intense still, then?” Your friend pushed, and you shrugged, not wanting to go into much detail, but Isaac was evidently bursting at the seams to tell her about his small portion of the event.

He was excited about the story, and frankly, he was simply excited to be being accepted by the people in Allison’s life. Despite his anxiety and how much he may deny it or attempt to hide it, you’d seen the same look on Noah’s face several times.

He’d looked like that when Allison had first offered to drive him home when he’d stayed for wine night, and when Lydia had first retuned his playful snark instead of simply taking the higher roads. He’d looked like that when you’d gone on a double date with Lydia and Leigh, and when he’d started to be invited to things that weren’t just an extension of your invite.

It was always a sweet sight.

You let him tell it all, even if it was slightly overdramatic, which it was clear your friend knew, but nobody bothered to interrupt him. You needed the break from it all, one final lunch date with your friend, sitting in the sun and drinking one too many glasses of wine as you ate overpriced food that was absolutely delicious and looked like art on plates.

You laughed and you joked and you listened to all the stories, and for a while, you forgot about the stress of exams and the future and just hung in the moment where you’d still get moments like this. They’d be hard to come across and they’d be less common, but they’d only become sweeter when they were rarer, because moments like these were the kind that made time stop.

A little tipsy and throat sore from singing to Allison’s playlist in the car on the way home, you were slightly shaky as you wandered up the stairs and along the corridor towards your apartment. Your keys were all the way to the bottom of your bag when you found them, and it was on your second attempt that you were able to open the door.  

“We’ll be inside in a minute, alright?” Allison wore a coy smile on her face, and you nodded, letting the two of them have their moment. You were happy for Allison, that was no lie, but you were a little unhappy with yourself as you stepped inside of the door, pushing it closed politely to give her and Isaac a moment.

You missed that look, that sweet and longing look of not wanting to part, with soft kisses and giggles in between pecks that were drawn out and needy, wanting to just spend years wrapped up in one another. Lydia was already home, you could hear the music from behind her door, but the apartment still looked as put together and un-lived in as it had been this morning. You suspected she’d only just returned home from her classes moments before you’d come home from lunch.

Dropping your bag down your arm and beside the seat on the couch you’d doubtless soon be occupying, you left it near the laptop you’d left on charge earlier in the day, green light steady to let you know that it was fully charged and ready to go. Really, there wasn’t much prep left to do, all you had to do was print your final scripts, put them in folders, and pack your bag, but it was all so overwhelming as it came to the final exam.

You felt exhausted, the day was great and there was still the buzz of your wine running through your system, but the longer you worried and the more you thought about what you no longer had, as Allison revelled in all of that new relationship excitement was making you feel a lonely chill. By the time you’d made it to your room, door closed to block out the cheery sounds of Lydia’s music, you were feeling the effects of a long day and repressed emotions thoroughly.

There was a frown on your face when you caught sight of yourself in the mirror, and one that brought wrinkles to your forehead as your brows furrowed without your permission.

Rubbing the pad of a finger over the spot, it only made your frown deepen when they immediately returned. Your hair was looking a little more flat and dull, maybe it was just your poor mood making you pick out the negatives in yourself, but that was all you seemed capable of doing right now. Putting on a false smile, you tried to see if it would help, but it didn’t, and it only screamed ‘liar’ in your mind.

Nimble fingers worked slowly along the front of your dress until the buttons were undone, slipping it down your arms and dropping it into the laundry basket. Kicking off your boots and stripping the rest of your clothes down, you sought out your robe, fingers running through your hair to try and untangle windswept knots.

A shower was what you needed.

Calling out a warning on your use of the bathroom, you locked the door, robe hung up on the back and steam beginning to fill the room as the water warmed up. You’d chosen a slightly higher heat, hoping the temperature would help chase away the chill that wasn’t real, created by your heart instead of your environment.

Laying out your bottles, you arranged them all neatly before stepping inside.

The wafts of mango-scented shampoo and a matching lemongrass-scented body wash were utterly intoxicating, bubbly as you focused on cleaning yourself down and trying to push aside the fears of the future and worries of your exams. It was hard, everything felt like a sword hanging on a very thin string, like you were one sob away from that string breaking. It was like standing on the edge of the cliff, swaying in the wind and knowing you were ready to take the jump but still not feeling prepared.

The towel you wrapped yourself in afterwards was comfortingly fluffy, and with skin that was still hot to the touch from the water, the breeze throughout the apartment at many degrees cooler than the steam of the bathroom wasn’t as lonely as it had been beforehand.

Your hair was combed free of tangles and your skincare was applied, your cosiest pyjamas wrapped around you as you finally began to feel your nerves settling. Lydia was stirring her soup on the stove when you finally reemerged, a small smile offered to her when she turned to you, and you clicked down the flick on the kettle to reheat the water that was remaining inside from whoever had last used it.

“What’s up, chicken? You keep frowning like that, you’re going to get worry lines.”

“Just a long day.” You gave a more reassuring smile to her, dropping a tea bag into a mug and retrieving a teaspoon to stir it with. She only hummed a response to you, pouring the contents into her favourite mug, and pulling out one of the kitchen island seats to settle herself at.

“You sure you don’t want to talk?”

“Nothing to talk about, just tired.” Your words were mumbled, you weren’t sure why, but despite feeling better you were still utterly drained. Moving with your fresh cup of tea toward the couch, you settled in your already chosen and favourite seat, the end of the couch closest to the windows but still with a great view of the television, and pulling your laptop across to sit on your legs once you were settled.

As you lifted the lid of your laptop and gave it a second to load up, you blew against the rim of your tea, swirling it slightly around the mug as you switched hands holding it, the ceramic hot against your skin. As your screen loaded up, the little red circle over your email flickered on, empty for a second, before a number filled the place.

Five unread emails.

Opening it up, you gave a sigh, sipping at the rim of your mug as you deemed the contents to finally be a drinkable temperature, but not caring much for the slight burn anyway. Two spam emails, one from your tutor to confirm your assignment tomorrow, as if you could possibly forget, and one from each brother. Stiles’ name was first, the most recently sent, and hovering the cursor over the top of the email, you brought it up to full-screen.

A few silly jokes and some notes at the top which you barely read, before clicking the link he’d uploaded below. With a brief pause, a PDF upload of your file was coming up, each page scanned in online, and annotated slowly. With a colour key at the top, a trait you were used to seeing from Stiles, he had made various annotations. Some were comments, some were simply praise, others were more jokes, but as you flicked through, there was nothing obvious to be removed.

Minimising the email, you pulled up Noah’s, expecting much the same as the PDF files and corrections, but it was just the opposite. A few simple lines, a polite greeting like he was sending a CV to a potential employer, or a doctor a message to arrange an appointment. Your eyes narrowed on the email, reading it again as he simply confirmed that it was fine, and he had nothing to be removed. No jokes, no comments, not even a slightly sweet dismissal at the end of his email, just his electronic signature and it was over.

With a huff, you found you were no longer staring at the screen but glaring at it, and in your distraction, the mug in your hands was slipping just a little, until a few drops of the hot tea were spilling over the edge, and splashing onto your fingers.

“Ow, shit!”

The words were a hiss, and pulling back from the computer to place the mug down onto the table, a slight ring was forming on the table from wetness. Sliding your computer from your lap, you wiped your hand on your shirt, a scowl on your face as the same tension you’d washed away during your shower was beginning to rear its head once again. “Okay, seriously this time, what’s your frown about?”

“Well-”

“And why are you making a ring on my coffee table?” Lydia muttered, snatching up the abandoned mug of tea, and your face blanked, an empty stare at her, and she shrugged, wiping the droplets away and putting your mug back down onto a coaster.

“You wanna’ hear what’s wrong or not?” Your eyes narrowed on her, but it was playful, and he shrugged, sinking down to sit on the couch beside you, still holding her mug of half-eaten. “Okay, well, it’s Noah.”

“Tell me something new.” She whispered, wincing at the exasperated look you gave her, and whispering her apology before taking another mouthful of her soup.

“He’s being all professional and cold. I mean, I know that’s what I wanted, I guess, but not like this. I needed space, I needed him to not look at me like I was the sun in the sky or whatever, but now he won’t look at me at all.” Rubbing a hand over your forehead, the words sounded ridiculous when they came from your mouth, but you did feel better just getting to vent about it. “I feel like we’re playing hot and cold. One minute he’s telling me he wants another chance and he misses me and all that, and then another, he’s ignoring me. Last week he asked me if going to dinner together was gonna’ mess with my decision about him, but this week it’s like he doesn’t even care.”

“Oh, honey..” She shuffled closer, the smell of tomato soup making you laugh as she tried not to spill her meal on you, mugs clinking together by accident as she attempted to hug you. “You know I’ll support you no matter what you do, and I’ll always take your side, but have you considered that he might be in as much pain and struggle over this as you are?”

“I hate it when you’re all wise and stuff.” Your eyes rolled, huffing but hiding a smile on the rim of your glass, and your friend only chuckled. “One minute he’s the jealous ex in a coffee shop because of Isaac showing up, and the next minute he’s barely replying to my texts, not even a soft email, it’s like he’s emailing his boss.”

“Or, one minute he’s feeling threatened because he thinks he lost you, and the next minute he’s feeling guilty for acting up, and wondering if he hadn't lost you but now had because of that behaviour.”

“Stop being logical and right.” You scoffed at her, slumping further into the cushions, and abandoning the argument entirely, because deep down, you knew she was right.

“Would it make you feel better if I pout with you and pretend for a while that this is a lot easier than it is, and we can order food and-”

“You don’t need to keep going, I’m all in.” She beamed, stepping away from you to abandon what was left of her sup to order a pizza instead, swiping her phone from the charger at the wall and pulling up an app.

“What are we doing? Ally emerged from the bathroom, already in her pyjamas and drying her hair gently with a towel, staring between the both of you. Picking up your computer and moving across to the paper you’d already drafted up.

“We’re ordering food and watching movies to cheer up our girl before her exams.” Lydia substituted an answer before you had a chance, so you simply nodded along with her, beginning to send copies of all your transcripts to the printer, so make sure that it was at least done. “Count me in then.”

Closing down the device once the order had been sent, and you felt a thrill of adrenaline shoot through you as Allison sat down on the couch beside you. Throwing a blanket over her lap, she spread it across you too, and Lydia took a cross-legged position in her favourite old chair.

Your alarm had rung once, and you’d set it to snooze, and as sleep finally found you at a comfortable time now, you cracked your eyes open to stare at the ceiling for the first few seconds that came with the morning. 

Tranquil and calm, sun fluttering in through your windows and just the right-

“Shit!” Your foot was caught in the covers as you tried to fling them back, kicking rapidly to free your legs and stumbling on limbs that hadn't a chance to adjust to the sudden weight thrust upon them. 

Your vision was still a little blurry as you blinked at the clock hanging over your head on the wall, realising just how much later woken to the time you’d intended to when the hands were finally clear. 

Pulling your robe on and not even bothering to fasten it across the front of your pyjamas, you raced to the living room, Allison’s bag and keys were already gone from the rack as she’d set off for the day, and Lydia was hanging around in the kitchen. Your papers were still sitting on the printer pad, ready to be packed away and your bag was still slumped beside the couch where it had been abandoned, laptop balanced on the edge of the coffee table, a little precariously, next to your empty glass of wine from last night. 

“Good morning, sunshine! I made you a smoothie.”

“I’m going to be late!” You snapped, turning on Lydia and wincing when you heard the tone of your voice echo back to you, but she didn’t seem to be phased by it. Your shoulders slumped arms crossing protectively across the front of your body. “Sorry.”

“S’okay. Come sit. Drink your smoothie.” She patted at the counter in front of herself, placing a tall glass down and the smell of berries and honey was overly inviting, and you trudged over, pushing yourself up onto the seat, Placing a thick straw into it, you smiled in thanks, letting yourself relax for just a second, and taking a large gulp of the fruity treat. “I heard your alarm go off, and then you silenced it. Figured you needed more sleep. I would have woken you up if another fifteen minutes had gone by.”

“Thanks. Mom.”

“Well, someone has to wake your dead-ass up in the mornings and pick Allison up from clubs when she’s drunk and can’t remember our address for a cab.” Lydia beamed, recalled the multiple times that it had happened, and you snickered into your drink as you continued to sip. “Figured I’d drive you to your exam, I have a class not long after. The weather’s nice, you can walk back, right?”

“Sure.” It was a nice offer, and if you were honest, a relieving one. Your hands were shaking a little and there was a tension like nausea twisting your guts into knots, and so knowing you didn’t have to then focus on driving on top of it all was like a gift from her. 

“I was thinking, you should wear that black blouse you have with your pencil skirt for your assessment, y’know, the one with the bits that go, like, over your shoulders and then tuck in at the front in that cool style.” She waved her hands around a little bit, neither of you quite sure how to explain the way that the fabric fell but you knew exactly the one she meant, and you mulled the idea over. 

“I was going to wear my boots, though, don’t you think an all-black outfit is a little funeral-y?”

‘I think it would look professional.” She mused, and you shrugged. You hadn't planned out an outfit at all, and you were honestly just grateful that she’d put some thought into it at all. “You’re gonna’ do great, I just know it. I mean, I picked out the fonts for your presentation, so, I know it’s perfect.”

“Uh-huh.” Your scoff only made her smirk, and you picked up your glass, sliding down from your chair. “I’m gonna’ take this to go.”

“You should wash your face, there’s a big wrinkle on your cheek from your pillow.”

Rubbing at your cheek, you scowled at her, placing the smoothie down onto your desk before retreating into the bathroom, and slamming the door. Upon checking your reflection, you found she was right, there was a still fading crease along your skin from a fold in the pillow material which had left its print, and you rubbed a thumb over it. It would be gone in no time, surely, but it was still best to assist it. 

A little hot water, cleaning your face and putting on some creams, and your energy for the day was already beginning to sink into you, fresh and rejuvenated, ready to finally put the stress behind you. Despite still having the exam to do, the excitement of knowing that by the time your head hit the pillow this evening your exam would be done and your stress would be gone was a kind of thrill you’d never had before. It was an incomparable high, just from the relief of letting tension and fear slip away. 

Brushing your hair out until it was knot free, you returned to your bedroom, stirring the straw around the glass and letting it clink against the sides occasionally, staring at your clothes. In the end, you went with the exact outfit that Lydia had suggested, a pair of tights and your comfiest bra to pair with it all, until you were fully dressed and tucking the edges of your shirt under the skirt waistband.

“See? Told ya’ it’d look good.” There was a series of knocks at the door just to follow the words, before she was letting herself in, nudging the half-drank smoothie toward you to be finished up, and standing behind you in the mirror. “Now, what are you thinking about your hair?”

With a combination of tasks, letting you work on your face as Lydia played with your hair until it was sitting to her liking in a gentle style, half up and half down, you were ready to go. Zipping up your boots at the ankle, the nervous tapping of your foot was audible now that the heel on it was clicking against the floorboards. 

Lydia was much calmer, she’d passed her set of exams weeks prior, she’d done the stress, to the extent she was almost certain her hair was going to fall out, and now she was simply attending her final classes to talk to her peers and gather summer readings and final recommendations from her professors before she was moving on to her PhD. It only seemed natural, for her, really. 

She was pulling her bag onto her shoulders as you sorted out your papers, tucking each one inside of a wallet and labelling them with a number at the top to know who to hand them to, before they were secured in your bag under your arm. Running a final check through your head, and making sure you had everything from your keys and phone to the documents and ID you’d need to present, everything was accounted for, and you were on your way. 

The university radio station played in your friend's car as she drove, and it smelt of peaches and berries, a new air freshener hanging on her mirror, swinging slightly with the movements. Lydia drove nothing like Stiles, no daring turns and risky switches between lanes, and nothing like Noah, who while being a safe driver, always brought an adrenaline thrill with his motorbike. She was a safe driver, someone you always trusted when getting into a car with, no matter what her mood or situation. In fact, you were convinced that if she was drunk, texting and blindfolded, she might still be a safer driver than Stiles.

Said boy was waiting outside for you when you arrived, a skip in his step as he made his way over to the car, letting you out and staying quiet while Lydia wished you luck and made promises about a celebratory dinner after she got home. It was only when the car door was closed and she was promptly leaving the parking lot that Stiles let his excitement and enthusiasm show, arms wrapping around your waist as he rocked you in a tight hug, his joy feeling contagious as you began to giggle. 

“You’re so happy, what’s up with you?”

“Trying to cheer you up. And Derek found us an apartment an hour ago, but also you!” He sang the final word a little bit, and you paused, eyes fixing on him as you placed a hand on your hip. 

“You guys found an apartment you like already?” It felt unbelievable to know that they were actually going out there to become adults, really starting to function and take part in society when you had no idea about your future. Seeing him do it, though, made it all feel a little less scary. 

“We weren’t looking for much. Not many demands. Just a reasonably sized bedroom and somewhere to put up a sex s-”

“Oh, Stiles!” You slapped at his arm, the boy cutting himself off in a fit of laughter, and you walked away from him, moving towards where Noah was still standing by the door. He had his hands tucked into his pockets, watching the pair of you closely with a gentle expression on his face, and he smiled as you reached him. Stiles was still laughing, mumbling about how he was joking as he caught up with you, and you rolled your eyes. “You know, your brother is a fool.”

“I know.” Noah, sighed, pulling the door open, and Stiles flailed as he made various sounds of complaints, being rapidly shushed by the silence the three of you were met with as you entered the building. 

“I’m a funny fool, though.” He gave a sigh, finally done with his laughter, and it was quickly replaced by happy sounds as he spotted the coffee machine in the corner, peeling away from you both to fetch himself a cup. You continued alongside Noah, silence sitting heavily on your shoulders as you made your way to the waiting room, a desk with a receptionist sitting behind it, typing away at her computer without looking up. 

There was only one other person in the room, and you could tell by their body language that they weren’t here to be examined. Presumably, just someone who was waiting for their friend or partner to finish their exam. There was a bag on the seat next to him, the row of chairs on the opposite wall entirely empty, and nerves were beginning to fill you up to the point of jitters once again. 

“I brought you a bagel.” Noah eventually broke the silence, pulling the small packet from the front pocket of his hoodie, and you stared blankly at the foil-wrapped packet sitting in his hand. 

“You, uh- what?”

“A bagel.” He pushed his hand a little closer to you, and you took it, sinking to sit in one of the free seats as he sat beside you, and you unwrapped it carefully on your lap. “Sometimes you don’t eat when you get stressed because you feel sick, and I didn’t know if you’d had breakfast.”

“I had a smoothie that Lydia made me, but this is sweet, thanks.” He only hummed at your thanks, but you could see the pink tinging his cheeks and you lifted it up, inspecting the contents, and feeling your heart warm a little more in your chest. “My favourites.”

“Big day, you deserve it.” Your gaze lingered on him for a second, realising that today he was playing hot instead of cold, but you had to force yourself to focus. You gave yourself an extra second, his gaze staring ahead toward the assistant, and you took him in, all the features you’d missed being able to observe. “Don’t you need to check-in?”

You snapped back, following his sight to the sign sitting on the receptionist's counter that read ‘exam check-ins’, and an embarrassed blush swept up your cheeks as you nodded.  “Yes, I do. I’ll be right back.”

Handing him back the bagel to hold onto, you retrieved your bag, setting off toward the desk, and Stiles made an appearance, carrying two coffees in his hands as he arrived, and a wide grin to follow. Signing your name on the pages and filling out your details, the woman checked your university ID card, and took your spare files from you. She wandered away, heading into the back room, and when you turned, Stiles was leaning on the counter next to you, making you jump. 

“Did you know that the coffees here are only a dollar?”

“For crappy vending machine coffee? I’m so impressed.” You teased, and his nose scrunched up at you, the door to the exam room opening as a girl came out. You recognised her vaguely, she looked almost shell-shocked but completely relieved, barely glancing at you as she moved to her boyfriend. He stood, wrapping her up in a tight hug and congratulating her quietly for completing her exam. 

Slumping down in your seat, the lack of others around you suggested you would be next, and you took a large bite out of your bagel, focusing your attention on eating instead of overthinking. You were barely halfway through your bagel when your name was called, telling you that you were free to enter the hall, and a rush of panic was drowning you all of a sudden as you felt everything freeze up. 

Stiles’ hands found yours, pulling you to your feet and dragging your attention to him as Noah threw away the other half of your meal, peering inside the door of the room but the blinds were pulled down over the window. 

“You got this, alright? You’re so ready!”

“I’m so ready. I got this.” You confirmed; words of encouragement, because despite your nerves you knew that there was nothing else that you could have done to prepare, you’d given it your all. 

The metal of the doorknob was cold under your fingertips as you walked in, heels clicking on the tiled floor. It was a study hall that was being used for exams today, the projector already slid down with the home screen of the communal-use laptop showing on it. A few rows up was a platform of three officials, all of whom were sitting with your copy of notes out in front of you. 

Heading over to it, Noah and Stiles both helped themselves to a stool from the row in front, hopping up quietly to sit on them side by side, and you fished your USB from your bag. Plugging it into the computer, you pulled up your file, the only file you’d put on this one, just to be sure it would save and download correctly, and after a moment of pause, the computer loaded it up. 

“Are you ready, Miss?” The man in the middle spoke, voice thick and husky and crows feet forming around his eyes due to his age but he seemed friendly overall, giving him a nod to confirm it, and he gave a reassuring smile to you, while remaining professional. 

Taking a final steady breath, you hit the first key on your presentation, introducing yourself and the topic you were bringing forwards, watching as they opened the first page. Somehow, once you’d taken the stage, the fear and anxiety began to slip away. 

As you moved through your presentation, you occasionally threw a question to Stiles or Noah, about their own information submitted to the study, letting them clarify it for the judges, Sometimes, the judges would ask their own questions, carefully selected information from somewhere in your booklet with the intention of tripping you up or catching you out, and sometimes they got you. You would forget to refer to a new page or paragraph in your study, and you would have to back and correct yourself. But, you were congratulating yourself on finding no major issues. As for Noah and Stiles, they were opposites. 

Stiles had come in and was relaxed in his seat, the entirety of the exam. Occasionally, his fingers would tap at the stool, or he would bite his nails, and he shuffled continuously, but in the end, it would only prove your point. 

As for Noah, he was stoic and stiff for the entirety of the exam. He sat still, barely moving, only occasionally when he was beginning to get stiff or achy in his position, and to answer a question. He never met your eye, staring at the floor or staring forwards continuously, and you wished you could have comforted him, but your aim was once again to stay professional even if just for the last couple of minutes that remained. 

The judges were nice, or as nice as they could be while remaining unbiased in the judgements they would grant. They scribbled notes, and you would occasionally have to pause simply to let them write down their information so they had everything they needed to judge you, and in those times, you took the second to breathe, and remind yourself that you were doing okay. 

The clock overhead was tickling by, your thirty minutes almost being up, and so you switched from the final slide of your presentation, the information you’d gathered to create your diagnosis going black on the screen, and everything that has been building for almost a year was finally coming to a head. 

Taking your place behind Stiles first, his shoulders were relaxed, a smile on his face as he stared straight up at the judges. For a long time, you’d been worried about everything that would come up during this assignment, bringing up everything from their childhood and their mom’s death to the different directions they’d gone in college, but since working it out, the tension surrounding the three of you when talking about it all had come to be nonexistent. 

“Now, Stiles Stilinski is also a psych student, and won’t be at all surprised by what I’m about to say.” You paused for a moment, rewarding yourself on the chuckles that rose from the judges, and you placed your hands on Stiles’ shoulders, squeezing lightly for your reassurance on your decision. “Following Adler’s theory, it is my judgement that due to his childhood experiences and the other contributing factors surrounding it, Stiles Stilinski has developed an acute inferiority complex as well as a superiority complex. He also has severe social anxiety.”

Stiles shrugged, knowing how he felt already, and as you’d said, he wasn’t all that surprised by it. Moving across to Noah, you placed your hands on his shoulders too, but instead, when you squeezed this time, it was for his comfort instead of your own. 

“At the beginning of this study, I asked both Stiles and Noah to self-diagnose anything they thought they may have. Stiles’ was pretty accurate. Noah believed himself to have anger issues, ego-mania, and an inability to function in a social situation. However, I believe that Noah Stilinski also has an inferiority complex combined with a superiority complex, and severe social anxiety.” You felt his shoulders go tense again, having loosened for only a moment because of your touch, and you rubbed lightly to try and comfort him again. “They both display these in radically different ways, however.”

The panel paused their writing, faces blank as not to convey any kind of giveaway to what they were feeling, and you were forced to keep falling blind into this as you went on to explain it. 

“At some point, for their own reasons, both Noah and Stiles came to find the opinion that they weren’t good enough and that the world, or society, has something against them. They also believed that that hatred made them better or unique. Which they are, because everyone is unique, but the coping methods that they adapted to handle the anxiety and the inferiority complex only fuelled the superiority complex.” 

You took a breath, stepping away from Noah and back towards Stiles choosing to stand in the middle of them instead. Your eyes moved to the clock, checking how much time allowance you had, and one of the judges followed. “You can take as much time as you need, alright?”

You could only nod in response. It was an empty offer, really. You knew that if you went on for too long, they’d begin to zone out. “Stiles started a podcast upon reaching university, because he still felt cast out from a feeling of high school rejection. Noah, however, felt that he was rejected in college, from being someone who fit in during high school. However, with a changing mentality toward the things that make us unique upon reaching college, Stiles began to fit in and his brand of quirkiness was exactly right, however, everything Noah had become to fit the mould society set in high school was simply not what was sought after now, and he found it hard to adapt again, despite how many people there are around him who like him, and those who love him, he finds it hard to see it.”

You could sense Noah’s discomfort about what you were saying, the way he stiffened, staring at you as you began to speak and the way he began to fidget anxiously like Stiles usually did, made it clear. So, you tried not to say any more, hands joining in front of you as you rocked on the balls of your feet, desperate now to simply finish. 

“These kinds of events are exactly what led me to my opinion on the two. It just goes to show that in the end, twins who are raised in the same way, a single parent as a guide with the same deep-rooted issues and insecurities can both display and combat it in very different ways.” You nodded, no more words coming to mind, and you took your drive back from the computer, the screen going blank again as you did. “Thank you for your time.”

“Thank you for your assessment, it was very interesting.” The woman who had rarely spoken at all on the far right was who ended your assessment, the boys leaving as they gave you some dates and times that you could expect your grade for, and once you had repacked your bag, you were leaving again. 

When you reentered the waiting room, you let go of the breath in your lungs, slumping back against the closed door for a minute, uncaring of the other patrons in the waiting area, and taking a moment to breathe. 

“Holy hell, that was terrifying.” You whispered, hearing Stiles laugh as he stood before you, his hands coming to find your shoulders. 

“But, you did it!” He beamed, shaking you a little, and pulling you away from the door, and walking you more toward the centre of the corridor. It felt surreal, this relief and the feeling you’d been longing so desperately for as you’d sought the relief. Your legs were a little shaky, and your mind was a complete blank as to what you were going to do now, Stiles’ hand sitting on your lower back as he guided you towards the doors. “So, what now?”

“Uh, well, Lydia wants to go for dinner to celebrate later.” You mumbled, turning to look at him, and Stiles smirked a little.

“That as far as your plans for the future have gotten?” He teased, and you stuck out your tongue playfully, Noah wandering along silently beside the pair of you. “Okay, well, I’ll be there too. Text me the details. You know, though, I kinda’ think I should-”

“You can go now. Go look at pictures of your apartment, or whatever.” He beamed at the permission to leave, moving into the top of his toes to press a kiss onto the crown of your head.

“You’re the best. Love you loads. I’ll see you later.” He waved over his shoulder as your left, and you chuckled, Noah copying the act beside you.

Stiles walked away, tapping a beat on his thigh as his other hand was holding his phone, thumb scrolling. He lifted it to his ear, a conversation beginning, and before you turned back around, you could already sense Noah lingering behind you. Turning to face him, his hands were tucked into his pockets, messy hair flopping down in front of his face as he stared at the ground, before forcing himself to look up at you. Wide brown eyes, nothing but honesty written on a nervous expression, and his lower lip was still reddened from all the biting he’d down on it throughout that session. 

“D’you really think all that stuff?”

His head tipped, nodding sideways towards the door, motioning to the room that was now occupied with another student completing their assessment. Letting out a slow breath, simply from the relief of having it all done and over with, but Noah was still waiting for an answer, his toes scuffing against the floor and creating a squeak on the tile. “I do. If that made you mad, I’m sorry, I mean, I’m not a professional or anything, but I’m still sorry if-”

“I’m not mad.” He cut you off, a softer smile on his face now, and you nodded, reciprocating it after a second of delay, and his shoulders sank down comfortably from their tense position. “If I’m being honest, it all felt pretty true. It made sense. That’s not what I meant.”

“Oh.” He nodded, running his tongue over his lower lip and pulling it back between his teeth as his nerves took over. Lifting a hand up when his eyes darted away from your one again, you freed his lip, thumb smoothing gently over his chin for a moment, and he pushed gently into your touch before you were letting go. “Well, what did you mean?”

He only shrugged, glancing up over your shoulder when the doors opened, scraping together slightly as a new bunch of students walked inside, and the waiting area was starting to grow crowded with kids waiting for their exams. Taking the hint, you fell into place beside him instead of in front of him, slow steps beginning to match as you traced the corridor back toward the parking lot. 

“S’okay, Noah. You can tell me.”

“I just meant, y’know, the part where you said people like me. Who?” The words were breathless.

“You have friends, you know you do.” Your chuckle wasn’t met by his, only a curious gaze that was still fixed on you, and letting the joke go, you gave in to the deeper conversation. “Okay, well, you have your friends online, for starters. I don’t remember their names, but, I know they’re there. There’s also Erica and Boyd, I know they like you, a hell of a lot, and despite all the bickering, Lydia was pretty fond of you. She thought you were funny and witty. Uh, who else, let’s see..”

“What about the people who love me?”

You froze a little, the door held open for you as sunlight poured in, Noah still a few steps ahead of you as he stared expectantly, hanging on an answer, and your lips pursed. Focusing on one thing at a time and unable to hold his brave stare now, you ducked through the doorway, warm sun flushing over your bare skin, but you still felt chilled by his question. “You know, you’ve got your dad and Stiles..”

“Anyone else?” He prompted, walking a little faster simply to catch up with you, and you hadn't realised your own pace had increased along the path, heeled boots clicking on the cement, as if you were trying to run from your problems and fears. There was a soreness in the back of your throat that you were familiar with by now, a scared and pained feeling of heartbreak and fear making itself known. 

“Oh, c’mon, Noah. You couldn't have been that oblivious, I was obvious. I wore my heart on my sleeve. Don’t make me say it.” Your voice trailed off, cracking somewhere in the middle in a way that betrayed you, and your words became a whisper toward the end. His hand hooked onto your arm, pulling you to a stop as he let out a noise that could only be described as wounded, and your body stiffened, refusing to look at him. “Noah, you’re the one who rejected me.”

“I didn’t reject you, I’m just a fucking idiot!” He was angry at himself, that much was obvious from his tone, and you gave an empty laugh, your gaze drifting up to search his face, only to find him staring at you with something intense. “I’m just a dumbass, okay? I didn’t think I could get someone like you, in case you haven’t noticed, I kinda’ don’t see much good in myself.”

“You should-”

“I know, you keep telling me that, but the best good was you, okay? I just didn’t see it.” His other hand came out, fingertips tracing along the inside of your forearm, so lightly it made you shiver, his other hand dropping down from your bicep, until he was daring to try and weave his fingers with your own. 

“Why have you been playing hot and cold so much, then, huh? I don’t know where we stand.”

It was his turn, a sad and empty laugh, and despite it being clear that he was utterly terrified, he was fighting off his flight instincts, and for once, choosing to fight instead. “Because I don’t know what you want, yet. Everything in my damn body is screaming out to be with you all the time. Literally, all the time. I want to text you and ask you how your day went, and I want to call you, and I want to just show up at your place and see if you want to hang out, or cuddle and listen to music, or go for a drive, but I don’t.”

He took a ragged breath at the end of his speech, your heart thudding hard inside of your chest in slow rhythms, and there was a pink on his cheeks from the tension of the moment, but just like he always did, he made everything else slip away. The noise and the stress and the pure adrenaline of it all seemed incomparable to the way it felt simply to be held so loosely by him once again, and the electricity that came with him finally speaking about how he felt. 

“You said you needed to work out whether or not you could forgive me, and I didn’t want to influence that. When I win you back, I don’t want there to be even a whisper of doubt in your mind about it.” His voice was soft, raspy and deep and sending complete chills through you with the depth of his words, and you sniffled lightly, your cheeks stretching to accommodate a smile you tried to resist. 

“Okay, well, as excuses go, I guess that checks out.” He laughed, a real laugh this time, and he took a fraction of a step closer, enough so that his toes were bumping against yours through his dirty sneakers and you could get a real smell of the musky cologne he always wore. His expression was a lot softer, a stare that travelled over your face like he was trying to memorise you like you might disappear, and his fingers flexed against yours, squeezing a little tighter. “I’m still not saying it.”

“Fine, be stubborn.” He mumbled, eyes daring to drop lower than your own for a second, and a gentle, barely present smirk was making itself known. “I’ll say it. I love you. I love you, and I’ve never loved anyone other than my family before, I’ve never been in love before. And, I’ll probably fuck it up a bunch more times, but I sure as hell know I’m in love with you, because if I ever thought I was miserable before, it’s nothing compared with how it feels when you’re not right here, being my sunshine.”

His head lowered, lips brushing against yours as your noses bumped, It was messy and clumsy, brushes of noses with soft smiles thrown into the mix, hanging on the edge of a cliff, with no idea what you were falling into.

“I love you, sunshine, so please, just put me out of my misery and say something?”

Your smile grew, hands freezing themselves from his own, smoothing up along his arms once his hands had found your hips, until they were resting against his neck, brushing under his jaw and feeling just how fast his heart was racing from his pulse under your palm. “I love you too, starshine.”

He was beaming, attempts to control it as your foreheads pressed together, and this time, the amused noise he let out was more watery than empty, something fragile as he handed his heart back over to you. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Tipping upwards, your lips caught his, a soft kiss that was fleeting and brief but it felt like finally coming home, sinking into his arms as he held you tightly, mouth working slowly against your own in a rhythm that was only meant for the two of you. 

His hands slipped a little further, to your back, pulling you in closer until your heart could be felt thudding against his own, and it still wasn’t enough, so much wasted time to be caught up on. There was so much, weeks of stories and thoughts and movies and songs, so much had slipped away during your heartbreak, and yet none of it mattered now, because with every slide of his lips over your own, you could feel the pieces of your heart sealing themselves back together again, like he was the only one who could truly mend it. 

Burning lungs were outweighed simply by the need to be close to him again, to relish in the way it felt to stop caring, and stop hurting, and let the entire world slip away for a while because everything was now focused on him. 

You had so sorely missed the way it felt to sink into his arms and just stop, to take a time out from reality for a moment when you were together, because it all felt like time had simply stopped. 

“You know, just to prevent further confusion,” You giggled, cutting yourself off when his pecks moved from your lips to your cheek as you began to talk, trailing over the skin and making sure to leave no spot untouched, longer hairs covering his face tickling your skin. “We’re dating now. Officially.”

“Stop making fun of me.” He mumbled, nipping at your jaw, before continuing his kisses up your temple, the side of your face scrunching up, until he was resting his chin against the top of your head. “I love you, sunshine. And you love me, can’t take it back now you’ve said it.”

“Got me trapped.”

“That I do.” He mumbled, arms tightening around you in a hug that you wouldn't want to leave anyway, and you laughed gently, sighs brushing over his neck. “What’s so funny?”

“You wanna’ go for a drive? Maybe later we can cuddle and listen to music and stuff.”

His hand found yours once again, pulling back enough to tug you over toward his bike, the daisy decal still shining against the metal in the sunlight, and he kissed at your knuckles as you walked together. “That’s all I’ve wanted for weeks.”

“Then let’s go.”