#that post of mine had many good responses/points and I never got around to replying sndkdk i feel bad | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

roanniom · 3 years

Note

Hey Issa, my sweet honey bun! I don’t send many requests to people, so bear with me. I’ll forever wait for the day you write Kylo, but until then I’ll throw this one at you for Charlie. I had a wander through the prompt list, and I kinda liked “I’ll feel better if you let me walk you home.” with Charlie being all protective of reader, unsure if she reciprocates his feelings. And because I’m a garbage can of filth, I also loved “I’m not made of glass. You won’t break me.” if you wanted to move into smut. I hope this gets the creative juices flowing? Take your time, no pressure ever! 💕💕💕

@paper-n-ashes as you know I have been holding onto this and chipping away at it steadily for FOREVER so I can get it just right for you, so I hope you enjoy it, my love <3

Push

Charlie Barber x Reader

Word Count: 6,862

Warnings: NSFW, fingering, PIV sex / unprotected sex, light light light choking (not even really), mention of infidelity (just canon from Marriage Story plot), a lil post-divorce angst/lack of confidence

The above photo is Charlie Barber, 1-year post divorce. He’s been working out as a form of anger management and because Henry, over many late night phone conversations, has shared his new love of hiking, a pastime he’s picked up since living in LA. Charlie plans to take Henry hiking on the Appalachian trail next summer break and wants to be on tip top shape to keep up with his enthusiastic son.

He’s been to therapy. Learning more about what went wrong in his marriage, but more specifically learning about how he can become a better person in the aftermath. How infidelity and self-interest were born of a deep-seated need for a love that he was not receiving. A love that was no closer to him prior to his indiscretions but all the same rendered unreachable as a result. He’s given himself time to grieve the man he’d thought himself to be. Because that is what had died with his marriage - not Charlie Barber himself. But the Charlie Barber he’d built in his mind. A man limited by support that came with conditions, love that came with caveats. That Charlie was a father and a husband. He was often suppressed, wound tight, on edge.

This Charlie is a father and a man. He is free to celebrate his own success without fear of wounding nearby egos. He’s limited only by what he feels he deserves. And granted sometimes those self-imposed limitations can really hold him down, as they did when he vowed not to jump into any further entanglements - affairs or otherwise - in the time immediately following his divorce. But that limitation was ultimately beneficial. It gave him space to be alone - with himself, for himself. He was able to finally see his own flaws with his own eyes instead of having them recited back to him by another, as if through a crude, second hand reflection. And in seeing these flaws, he also saw the virtues. Charlie was actually starting to like himself again.

And this is when he meets you.

You storm into his life with an energy he doesn’t recognize, introduced at a party by a friend of a friend, filling his senses with your too-loud-laughter and too-bright-eyes. In many ways that’s how he sees you: too much. Your enthusiasm makes you appear too young, though in truth you’re not that much younger than him. Your smile makes you appear too beautiful, though in truth there are often much more conventionally attractive women in the room at any given time.

“Charlie. Charlie Barber,” Charlie mutters as he shakes your hand. Its warm in his larger one and he’s suddenly a little self-conscious of the fact that he’d been holding his sweating scotch on the rocks just moments before the contact.

“Hello Charlie-Charlie Barber,” you reply with a massive grin, shaking his hand back vigorously and with seemingly no reaction to its clamminess. “The famous director, I assume?”

Charlie clocks the quirk of your eyebrow. A tease. A social cue he’s not used to. Not these days. He looks down at his worn tennis shoes, all too aware all at once of the way they dress down his sweater and jeans. He feels rumpled next to you and he’s not sure he likes it. You’re too put together.

You’re too honest, too fearless, too open to new things. Though Charlie’s beginning to grow, your presence reminds him of how stunted he’d been in his marriage. How the same old restaurants, the same old clothes, the same old glass of the same old scotch had become items of comfort for him, talismans of a previous life that he clung to for some semblance of familiarity. Around you, however, those same old things looks dull and uninspired. Quite the opposite of you.

You are the one to ask him out, though he’s not even really aware that it’s a date at all when he arrives. That’s how much he doesn’t see you coming. His affair had been one of convenience. An opportunity to blow off excess steam, and a pretty disappointing one at that, with neither party really find what they were chasing. His marriage had grown cold long before it had ended. All of this to say that Charlie wasn’t very familiar with warmth. With interest that occurred in the light of day, and attention that was given without anything sought in return.

You’re halfway through lunch before you realize that he doesn’t understand your intentions. So you explain them to him. Clear and empty of any pretense. You are attracted to him and interested in getting to know him further. It’s simple, really. He’s shocked by your openness and the absence of any games. In another life he’d once assumed that a relationship without strife, without agony, without strategic tug of war would be one without passion. However, as he soon learns while taking you out on the second date, that he couldn’t have been farther from the truth.

Over dinner this time he finds himself getting lost in your micro-expressions. Finds his eyes lingering on the animated way you gesture, finds his words getting twisted in his tongue as your gaze weighs on him, expectant and waiting for a response to some question. His bodily responses to your attention are no less potent in the absence of angst. In fact, he is surprised to find that his yearning practically triples when you part ways and he realizes not once had he been made to feel like he had to prove something, or fight, or challenge.

He learns over time that you challenge him in other ways. Challenge him when it comes to picking restaurants outside his comfort zone. Challenge him by dragging him, mid-lunch date, on a shopping trip with you, a trip where you gently help him to finally replace the worn out tennis shoes to which he’d been clinging. Challenge him by laughing with him, not at him, even when the subject of the humor is himself. Your laughter is lighter, more carefree, than he is used to. Then again, he’s not used to being around someone like you.

He kisses you after the third date – the lunch-turned-shopping trip. It’s quick and it’s light, on the curb before an intersection on the East Side, right before you both are about to walk in separate directions. You say nothing when he pulls away. Just smile and turn on your heel, already headed to your next destination. It drives Charlie crazy over the next few days. Not because he assumes you have some hidden agenda. On the contrary, he’s horrified that your interior thoughts match your exterior actions. You have been nothing but honest with him. It is Charlie who has been oscillating wildly in his mind. Between thoughts of how much it might hurt if you turn out to be too good to be true and thoughts of how much he’d love to feel your body on his. To explore the mouth you use so effortlessly to tease him, to compliment him, to charm him. You speak kindness like pleasantries, as if affirmations and praise were as easy to dole out as a cheery “good morning” on a stress-free Saturday. Charlie wants to know what you’re like on a Saturday. Away from the bustle of the city. Away from the common friends and the crowded shops and restaurants that have buffered all of your encounters.

But Charlie’s still afraid.

On your fourth date Charlie is more reserved when you arrive at the restaurant. You break the ice by pointing out that the formality of your dates is beginning to feel silly.

“Maybe it’s the fact that the tables have tablecloths,” you joke, swirling your pasta around a fork. “Or maybe it’s the fact that I’ve never repeatedly had meals with someone I wasn’t already in a relationship with.”

Charlie prickles at the implication, taking a labored swallow of ice water. He doesn’t want to comment on the relationship part of your sentiment so he chooses something more neutral.

“Should I remind you that two of these meals have been at your suggestion and you did, in fact, also plan them as meals.” He relaxes a bit when you laugh heartily at that, relieved that the conversation doesn’t get any more dicey.

“Touché,” you reply. Then you lean forward and whisper conspiratorially at him across the small table. He feels himself lean in, curious but also looking for a chance to just get closer in proximity. He wishes he’d had the courage to sit next to you rather than across from you when he’d first sat down. “Feeling adventurous enough to let me pick where we go after this tonight?”

And Charlie feels adventurous. Adventurous as he lets you whisk him across town and to your favorite arcade bar. Adventurous as he passes you a large handful of quarters he got from the little machine at the front, only to grasp your fist in his when he miscalculates how much of his handful you’d be capable of taking, narrowly avoiding a massive spill of loose change on the floor. Adventurous as he orders a couple of beers and lets you show him your favorite game, Burger Time – a silly little maze game where you collect burger ingredients. Adventurous as he shows you his favorite game, which is pretty much any pinball machine known to man.

“Yours looks cooler than mine,” you huff, walking over to the pinball machine he’s playing once you abandon the one that was definitely broken. Or at least that’s how you justify so many consecutive, immediate losses. Charlie laughs and pulls back the plunger but doesn’t release, effectively pausing his game.

“You wanna try it?” Charlie ushers you in front of him and puts your hand on the plunger beneath his, careful not to release it in the process. “The key is anticipating where the ball will go. It’s all about patterns after a while.”

“Then why does it seem so random?” you ask, looking up at him over your shoulder.

“You just haven’t played enough yet. Over time you can predict what will happen if the ball hits a certain corner. Where it will go if it ricochets juuust right at the last second.”

“Sounds fake but I’ll let you prove it to me,” you say with a laugh, focusing your attention back on the machine.

“We’ll let go in one…two…three.” When you feel the pressure of his hand let up you let go as well, letting him guide both your hands immediately to the buttons on the side of the machine.

For as great as his theory of pinball predictability is, he probably underestimates your ability to suck. Because you do, hard. But you laugh the whole way through, and you never quit. Never turn to him in frustration asking to do something else or even to leave. Instead you keep feeding quarters into the machine and bringing your hands back under Charlie’s on the machine. And no matter how shitty you are, you always at least try to focus.

Charlie, meanwhile, is having a very hard time focusing on anything that isn’t your body. His hips bracket your ass in this helpful position he’s adopted, and he feels your pressure against his pelvis with every enthusiastic wriggle and little jump of frustration that you take in response to the game. When he makes the unfortunate mistake to look down over your shoulder at one point he’s met with a direct view of your cleavage, exposed as it is in your low-cut blouse. Charlie begins to sweat and it has nothing to do with how packed the arcade is or with the exertion of gaming. When he remembers that the arcade is also a bar, he excuses himself to get more beer, hoping that one will cool him off and cool him down.

You dazzle him with a smile thrown over your shoulder when he approaches with the two fresh bottles, and he’s not prepared for how the sight of your face almost knocks him back on his ass.

“Charlie! I did better this time!” He chuckles at your enthusiasm.

“Oh yeah?” he asks, handing you your beer which you sip gratefully.

“I lasted a few more minutes than last time,” you elaborate proudly. “So I’d say that means I now qualify as a pinball wizard.”

“Move over Elton John,” Charlie says with a smirk. You slap him in the shoulder and immediately engage him in a spirited discussion of whether the Elton John movie version of “Pinball Wizard” was better than The Who’s version from the original album. However, after a few minutes Charlie realizes he’s lost in thought. Lost in your voice. Lost in your expressions. Lost in you.

When it finally comes time to leave the arcade, the night drawing much later than it had on your previous nighttime date, Charlie’s scared he’ll be lost without you. The two of you walk together for a couple of blocks before you reach that similar intersection. The place where you part ways.

“I think we really turned around that formality thing, don’t you?” you ask him, turning to Charlie and leaning back against the column of a pedestrian sign. Charlie moves into your space, swallowing his hesitation.

“I don’t know, I began to feel a little unworthy when you ascended past the role of pinball wizard.”

“Oh did I get a promotion?” You ask, tipping your head back so you can look up at him as he steps closer.

“The word wizard conjures up images of wizened old man,” Charlie says dismissively, as if that clears up everything.

“So if you’re saying I don’t remind you of a wrinkled old Merlin – to which might I say, shocker – then what exactly is my new title.”

“One that fits you inside and out.” Charlie braces a hand against the column above your head, his other in his pocket. His head dips down so that it’s closer to your face despite your height difference. You feel warm despite the slight chill in the air.

“And that would be Pinball….?” you prompt.

“Goddess,” he completes the title before pressing his lips to yours. His hands remain on the column and in his pocket until you reach forward and grab a fistful of his sweater, pulling him to you. Then his hands are at your waist, pushing you back into the column. His tongue is in your mouth and your hands are in his hair and he can’t breathe. But he doesn’t want to. He wants to suffocate, wants to asphyxiate on you and the way he feels so tethered to this moment, this intersection, this place where you cannot part ways.

When you break apart to, in fact, breathe, your chest heaves and your smile is radiant.

“As far as kisses goodnight go, I’d say that was top tier,” you say on a laugh. Suddenly Charlie’s throat is constricting and he has to fight his facial muscles to keep from frowning as his hands tighten on your waist.

“That wasn’t a kiss goodnight. Not yet.”

“Any longer and it’ll be a kiss good morning, sir. Have you seen the time?” Your tone is joking. You call people ‘sir’ all the time. It’s a weird quirk of yours, like calling someone dude or pal. But Charlie can feel himself choking on the word, as well as the implications of a ‘kiss good morning.’ All of a sudden he feels like if he could have only one more thing before dying, that’s what he’d ask for. But then he kicks himself internally for being so fucking dramatic and he fiddles with the hem of your shirt.

“Exactly. It’s late.

You survey him from under your eyelashes with a small smile.

“I’ve made this walk many times.”

“It’s dark.”

“I’ve made this walk in the dark many times.”

“I’ll feel better if you let me walk you home.”

Charlie’s heart clenches. Before he can overthink, you’ve ducked out of his hold, grasped his hand and started pulling him down the street.

“C’mon Charlie, hurry up. You’d keep a goddess waiting?” you toss back at him over your shoulder. But in truth it was taking all of Charlie’s self control and the fact that he didn’t know the way to your place to keep him from throwing you over his shoulder and breaking into a full sprint.

~*~

Your place is exactly like you. Eclectic, warm, inviting. There is a moment, as you pull off your coat and turn away to place it and Charlie’s on a coat rack, when Charlie feels much too big for the space. Like he’s some kind of giant invading the home of a sweet little wood nymph. But then his little wood nymph is grabbing him by the front of the shirt and dragging him to a bedroom and the worries fade right out the window.

At first Charlie is gentle with you. His hands ghost over your body as you kiss him beside your bed. When you push him to sit down on the edge of the mattress and step between his open legs to kiss him with a different height dynamic his heart just about jumps clear out of his chest. He hasn’t done this – hasn’t touched or been touched – in so long. The affair had been transactional, just the mechanical motions of sexual gratification. Sex with Nicole, before it stopped, had been even colder, almost as if she had been begrudgingly completing some unwelcome chore.

You, however, are like fire beneath Charlie’s fingers. Your skin, your lips – everything is so warm it feels like you’re too hot to touch. But Charlie would rather risk burning up than to not become accustomed to the feel, the shape, the substance of you. He smooths over your body with a reverential softness, his muscles tense with restraint so as to keep from accidentally pushing you too far too fast. To keep from handling the way that, deep down, he desperately needs.

When your lips suddenly leave his, his brow furrows in frustrations. Before he can open his eyes a soothing finger smooths the furrow away, sliding down the bridge of his nose to press against his kiss-swollen lips. Charlie opens his eyes with a question present in them and you cock your head to the side.

“You’re tense. Like you’re holding back.” The statement isn’t accusatory but it isn’t a question. Charlie takes a shaky breath, unsure about how much he should say. Would his desperation read as too dramatic? Too undesirable? Would his enthusiasm come across as pushy or dominating? His brow must furrow again because your hand moves back up, finger pressing out the wrinkles. He shrugs.

“It’s been…a while for me. I didn’t want to come across as too…much.”

You laugh then and yet again Charlie is struck by how strange it is that you can laugh in his face directly in response to something he’s said without making him feel like you are laughing at him.

“I’m not made of glass. You won’t break me, Charlie.”

“You’re sure about that?” Charlie huffs out with a little chuckle. You give him a smirk and say your next words up against his lips.

“Try me.”

You probably were expecting him to require more cajoling. You probably were expecting him to gradually ease into something more. But Charlie takes you by surprise, grabbing you and pulling you onto the bed with him, rolling so that you’re laid out beneath his body, all the while maintaining hungry possession of your mouth. His body finds its place between your legs and you gasp at the feeling of how huge he is. How hard and insistent against your softness. He drinks from you like a man whose thirst can not be quenched. His hands find purchase on your waist and he squeezes. So hard you’re sure you’ll bruise. You smile against his mouth with the realization that you look forward to watching them bloom later.

Since Charlie seems too preoccupied with groping and making out with you, it is you who eventually takes the next step, beginning to pop open the buttons on your blouse one by one. When Charlie feels the motion of your hands between your bodies he ultimately pulls back to investigate, mouth dropping open at the slow reveal of the lingerie you’re wearing beneath. His hand shoots out to caress the delicate lace of your bra, teasingly not applying any pressure to the breast beneath.

“Do you wear things like this often?” Charlie’s voice is already rough as he asks this. You shrug.

“Whenever I want to feel sexy.”

“You wanted to feel sexy while out with me?” Charlie asks, lifting an eyebrow.

“You made me feel sexier than the lace, Mr. Barber,” you say with a smile before leaning up to capture his lower lip between your teeth. He groans and moves to practically swallow you whole. You’re entirely foreign to him. Enthusiasm, amusement, and enjoyment bundled up into one devastatingly sexy package. There’s no shame in your movements, no angst in your eyes. Just humor. Only an unabashed pursuit of pleasure. And if it’s pleasure you want, it’s pleasure you’ll get.

Charlie now aids you in the process of removing the rest of your garments, so it goes much quicker. When you move to pull off your bra, however, he catches your wrist in his massive hand.

“No…can these stay on?” Your eyebrows shoot up but you notice the way that Charlie is gazing at you with eyes slightly hazy and tongue running over his lips.

“This doing it for you, Charlie?” you tease, shimmying a bit. Charlie’s answer is sincere regardless as he dips his head down to sample the plush skin at the line of your cleavage.

“You have no idea.”

“So you’re a lingerie man, huh?” When you ask he stops to think for a second because, truly, he had never considered himself that way before. He’d never had any reason to. Sure lingerie models in magazines were hot, but it’s not a specific fantasy he’d ever explored previously.

But the sight of you here, strategically covered in lace and laid out beneath him pretty as a picture has him so hard he feels like a teenager unable to control himself. So, as you had urged him, he doesn’t.

“I might be. But really, I’m just enamored by these tits.” His teeth sink into your flesh and you sigh, especially when his tongue comes out to lave warmly at the spot. He moves down your body then, peppering kisses to the exposed skin of your stomach, sliding until your inner thighs rest against the sides of his face and his hands dip below you to squeeze your ass. “Although I feel like this might end up being my favorite part.” He says this last part directly into your clothed cunt, his lips just barely ghosting over the fabric with his words.

You wiggle a bit in his grasp, loving the answering way his fingers dig into your soft flesh. Your fingers card into his lush hair, tugging lightly at the roots, a feeling that shoots through his body and straight to his rock hard member. The way he discretely ruts against the mattress in response does not go unnoticed by you, so you drop a hand under his chin to tip his face back up to look at you.

“Will you fuck me, Charlie?” Your voice is clear and bright. Not playing coy and requiring any convincing. Just asking for something you want. And the hunger in your eyes seems unmistakable, though it still feels to good to be true. Charlie drops his gaze back down to the wet spot forming in your panties before looking back up and practically pouting.

“I’d like to taste you,” he counters. A brilliant smile breaks out across your face at the sound of that but you shake your head.

“There’ll be time for that later,” you argue, tugging on his shoulder to get him back on top of you. “If you don’t get inside me right now I’ll die.”

Charlie almost misses that last part because he’s still stuck on the first part. There’ll be time for that later. The possibility of later squeezes at Charlie’s hard and it’s only after a few echoing seconds that he’s able to process the rest of your statement with a delayed, choking laugh.

“Is someone getting dramatic on me?”

“Not yet, but I will if - ”

“If I don’t get inside you?” Charlie completes the statement in the exact moment a hand drops between your thighs and presses against the soaked fabric covering your slit. You inhale sharply.

“Exactly.”

“I didn’t take you for someone who was pushy in bed,” Charlie says good naturedly, swiping his fingers up the line of you to end with a swirl over where he assumed – correctly – your clit was. You tilt your pelvis to maximize his pressure before surging up to kiss him long and hard.

“I’m actually not. Not really,” you say breathlessly when you finally pull away and drop back down onto the pillows. You stretch luxuriously, almost like a kitten in the sun under his piercing gaze, the movement of your hips bumping his hand to rub you even better. Running your hands up and down the big, strong arms that cage you in and support him, you kiss his shoulder. “I’ve been hoping you would be.”

Suddenly your wrists are being pinned down above your head by one of Charlie’s hands. He’s got your legs open wide with his body sinking against you, hard and heavy.

“Pushy? You want me to be pushy?”

You grin big and wide at him.

“Yeah. Take charge like I know you want – oh!” You’re cut off by the welcome sensation of stimulation as Charlie’s hand drops inside your panties to slide around in your waiting slick. Without the barrier of the fabric between you, the feeling of your velvety slipperiness is enough to make him loose a growl.

He’s not hesitating and he’s not teasing anymore. Charlie has been waiting for this moment. He’s been waiting to care. Been waiting to feel. And what’s heightening the experience even more is the look on your face, the way your lips are parted and the way you gaze up at him longingly, expectantly. Providing all the evidence he needs to prove that you want this too. He wants you and you want him – what a novel idea. There are no angles or obligations, but also no shame or secrecy.

“Well if you wanted me to take charge you should have said so earlier,” he says, the corner of his lip quirking a bit as he dips two fingers inside your soaking cunt, not bothering to start with one. You gasp at the sudden intrusion. The stretch is a lot, but it is everything. Charlie sees the enjoyment register on your face, discomfort melting away almost immediately, and he begins to pull them slowly in and out to massage your walls.

“Maybe – ahh – maybe I should have,” you reply.

“Should I have caused a scene in the arcade?”

“Yes – fuck!” During an inward thrust Charlie curls his fingers up this time, rubbing against that spot in your upper wall that previous guys barely even knew was there. Before you know it he’s adding a third finger and you’re beside yourself. Charlie is elated to see how easily your body responds to his ministrations, how free you are with your reactions. He leans to down to suck a mark over your collar bone while his thumb meets your clit in tandem with his other thrusting fingers.

“You knew what you were doing when you kept rubbing that pretty little ass back into me while I taught you pinball.” His words rumbling against the skin of your throat.

“You made it so easy.”

“And you made it so hard,” Charlie counters, humor very present in his voice. You gasp out a laugh and try to tug your wrists from his grasp, but he doesn’t let you. Just keeps you pinned down as he continues to finger fuck you nice and slow.

“So impatient. I should have known. You’ve been impatient all night, haven’t you?” You whine out affirmations and screw your eyes shut as the pressure starts to build to a crescendo. Charlie picks up speed, his voice growing deeper as he continues. “Wanted me to fuck you on the pinball machine in front of everyone, didn’t you?”

You gasp and toss your head back against the pillows at that, hips bucking involuntarily. Charlie’s nose glides along the perimeter of your jaw, breathing in the scent of you as you fall apart. He’s never felt so powerful as he does with the feeling of your muscles tensing up under his fingertips. Never had the inspiration or audience for such language, but as you shiver and respond to his words, a surge of pride fills him and all he wants to do is dangle you over the edge over and over again.

“Charlie…” His name is a whimper when it falls from your lips. You’re so close. He feels it. So he pushes his fingers deep inside you, curling up with the motion, just as he sweeps one, two, three final circles into the throbbing bud of your clit.

You crest and you break against the tide of your orgasm, plummeting down from such heights you didn’t know you could reach from simple fingering. But there’s nothing simple about Charlie, the man who had been broken and put back together, only to find you, the universe’s overly generous reward for his perseverance.

Charlie’s slightly (unfocused) eyes focus on your heaving chest as you finally descend from the orgasm, but you’re the one to break the spell. Impatient is the perfect way to describe you as you wrap your legs around his middle and hook your ankles to trap him against you. You lunge up to arrest his mouth in a kiss. It’s sloppy, but just enough to distract him so that you can pull your wrists from his grasp. Once free you push him gently to the side so that you’re both rolling over, mouths still attached. He comes to rest on his back with you straddling him.

Charlie blinks up at you, taking in the way your breasts bounce in their bra cups as you busy yourself with the task of removing his clothes. He hadn’t even realized he was still in them until you began unbuttoning and pulling and pushing. Your impatience is clear once again in the way you divest him of the frustratingly excessive material and he finally gets the memo that he should help you.

With his pants and underwear pulled off and discarded, as well as the button up shirt that you had come to love as his signature look, you rest your palms flat on the plane of his chest. You’re still in your lingerie, as he had requested, only it is now beautiful askew. Your breasts now strain out of the cups, having been jostled into almost spilling out with your change of position. Your panties are sopping wet and stretched from his vigorous fingering and the evidence of your orgasm.

You’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

But you become even more beautiful when you wrap your hand around his aching cock, lifting up on your knees as you do so. Your fists slides up and down, up and down and he watches it, mesmerized, until you lean forward to catch his eye.

“What should I do, Charlie?”

Your face is soft and open. You’re asking for him to continue taking the lead. And Charlie realizes right then and there that he will never want to disappoint you. Snapping out his daze he lets his fingers dig into your flesh where his hands curl around your hips.

“Sit down on my cock, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart.

The term of endearment is so sugary. He’s called his son that, but never a lover, casual or otherwise, and never during the first time. Your face, however, lights up and you do as you’re told, sinking down onto his long, hard length. The impact draws a moan from both of your throats followed by gasped phrases spoken over one another.

“You’re so big!”

“You’re so tight!”

You both laugh at the overlap but laughter turns to groans as you roll your hips experimentally. After a few moments of this, it appears that Charlie becomes the impatient one finally.

“Ride me,” he spits through gritted teeth. Your nails imprint half moons in his skin as you clench at his tone, not quite hearing the words. Charlie sucks air through his teeth at the squeeze.

“What?”

“Ride me. I need you to fucking ride me.” You can tell that he’s trying to remain cool and collected, but his brow is furrowed and his bottom lip is caught between his teeth.

So you do as he says. You lift up and drop down, feeling the length of his cock slide through your sheath with a speed that you set, establishing a rhythm that has your toes curling. You let out a particularly shameless moan and Charlie opens his eyes. They widen immediately upon seeing that you’re clutching and squeezing at your own breast with one hand while grabbing onto his hip to stabilize you with the other. The sight alone of your face, screwed up in pleasure, flips a switch in Charlie and suddenly he is thrusting up into you without mercy.

“Charlie!” you cry out, both from surprise at the increased jostling and from how tremendously good it feels.

“I should have fucked you in the arcade. I would have if I had known how good you feel.”

“I – oh fuckfuck – knew,” you barely get out. Charlie hoists you back so that he’s sitting up with his back against the headrest now. The position gives him more leverage and power so he can lift you up and down his cock, bouncing you now with a rhythm that vibrates through your entire being.

“What was that, sweetheart?” Charlie asks, engulfing one of your breasts in his huge hand. The added sensation is perfect, but not quite enough. You wonder if you can coax more.

“I knew you would feel good.” You reach down to the base of his cock, encircling it as much as possible with it’s girth, and fisting upward just as he pulls you up, therefore maximizing the squeeze on his length. Charlie inhales abruptly and drops you back down.

“Little Miss Know-it-all, are you?” His voice is harsh and it sends a thrill throughout your body. Before you can respond, you’re pushed and yanked around, losing your grip with the motion.

“What - ?” Charlie’s hand on your throat quiets you. Not because he’s truly squeezing, but because the solid warmth of his hand causes you to squeak your way to silence. His adjustments now find you pulled up to the edge of the bed, legs spread and pushed back, with Charlie standing between them. Bent over, he grounds himself with one hand on your throat and one on your hip, positioning his tip back at the entrance to your weeping cunt. You expect him to slam his hips forward, to impale you with his cock, but he pauses with the swollen head just inside your folds.

“This okay?”

This power and control, the way he is manipulating your body for your pleasure and his own – he loves it. It’s so new and yet something he now wonders how he ever did without. But he also feels the need to check in and make sure that you’re still with him. The nod you give, the sparkle in your eye, and the quirk of your lips is all it takes to convince him and then he is plowing forward, slamming himself back in again and again. You let out a full throated moan and Charlie revels in the way your eyes roll all the way back.

He wonders what else will make you do that. What else will make your eyes roll back and your toes curl and your teeth sink into your bottom lip? He wonders, as his hand presses softly into the contours of your throat, what it would feel like to squeeze a little harder, and if the pressure would make you even more desperate for him. He wonders if you like a little pain with your pleasure, as he has long suspected he might enjoy, though has never truly had the chance to confirm.

But there will be time for that.

So now, he does his best to focus in on the sounds you release. Sounds of delight and surprise and sensual thrill. He coaxes you to your second climax and you don’t fight it. You don’t demure or wait for him or hesitate. Instead you unapologetically allow yourself to get lost in the pleasure he’s built for you, seizing and quaking beneath him without shame.

The sight and feeling are so beautiful he can’t help but follow soon after, pulling out and allowing releasing all over the bra and panties you had so generously left on for him. The sight of his seed landing on the delicate lace, as you lay beneath him fucked out and smiling, causes another tremor to rock through him, and he finds that he’s still cumming long after he usually would have finished.

Charlie finds himself in a daze in the immediate aftermath of his release. He looks around for something to clean you with, and when you notice you point out a box of tissues on the desk. After he’s done his best to wipe you up, you give him a kiss on the cheek. The mundane intimacy of the act makes him blush all the way to the hidden tips of his ears. It is absurd because you had just had sex, however the press of your lips to his skin seemed to seal the deal. This was not transactional. It was something more, Charlie can’t help but think to himself as you get up from the bed and skip to the bathroom.

In your absence Charlie again registers the smallness of your room. How large – out of place, maybe – he is amongst your delicate things. He pulls on his underwear and sits back down on the mattress, unsure.

Unsure about your expectations. Unsure about whether or not you’d want him to leave. Or stay.

Before he can make a decision in either direction you are bounding back into the room, a smile on your face. Your face is freshly washed and you’re in a faded, oversized tank top, having divested yourself of your abused lingerie. Charlie swallows at the sight of your breasts, free and outlined beneath the soft fabric. He adjusts his hands in his lap. No need to let you see him getting worked up again so soon like some horny teenager. You don’t seem to notice, instead slipping easily into bed beside him, shimmying under the covers and patting the space beside you so that he does the same.

So stay he will.

Once you’re both comfortable and situated, you slide into his arms, drawing them around your body without a question or seemingly a second though. Much like the way you’d slid into his life, Charlie thinks ruefully, nuzzling his face into the top of your head as you tuck in beneath his chin.

“Charlie?”

“Hm?”

“I know you always go to that diner on 15th for breakfast,” you begin, and Charlie’s heart spasms. Both at the thought of breakfast with you and the fact that you so casually know details about him. About his likes and his habits. He pulls you in a little tighter and nods his head.

“Yeah?”

“Would you mind if I show you a new place in the morning? I think you’ll really like it.”

And Charlie laughs. Because of course you’d want to push him out of his comfort zone. It’s what you do – push him to try new things. Push him to do things he wouldn’t usually consider. Push him to be the man he’d been working so hard for the past year to be.

“Yes, but I’m not changing the way I order my eggs,” he grumbles with humor, kissing the crown of your head. “Not yet.”

~*~

The next morning you order first, and you’ve never had breakfast with Charlie before, so when he asks for the same dish, you can’t possibly know that this is his first time ordering eggs Florentine.

As you both laugh and eat and sip coffee in the outdoor seating area of the quaint café you’d picked, fingers intertwined between you on the wrought iron table, you also can’t know that this is the happiest Charlie has felt in ages.

But he makes it his mission, right there and then, to do everything in his power to make you feel the same.

~*~

Tagging some lovely friends (please let me know if you would like to be tagged or untagged in the future!): @celestiasin @tlcwrites @noocturnalchild @thedivinemissn @insufferablelust @edencherries @historyandfandoms50 @lostinthedrive @thewilddingleberries @mariesackler @safarigirlsp @direnightshade @sacklerscumrag @clydesfavoritegirl @wayward-rose @hopeamarsu @barbers-glimmerin-darlin @finn-ray-nal-beads @fizzywoohoo @maybe-your-left @aliveandlonely @han-not-solo @mrs-zimmerman @maryforyou @jynzandtonic @renmaulxo @millenialcatlady @soggywhore @transparentmeoo @leia-suns @alpha-lobito

#paper-n-ashes #charlie barber x reader #charlie barber x you #Charlie Barber/reader #Charlie Barber/you #Charlie Barber fanfiction #Charlie Barber smut #marriage story fanfiction #Marriage Story smut #writing #smut #Roanniom #tw: unprotected sex #tw: choking

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jimines · 3 years

Note

Whats actually happened between you and taemaknae? I read about it on the tea blog and still confused

This is an insanely long story so I'm going to put it below the cut so for anyone interested in this absolute shit show, continue on.

Essentially, I posted these headers about a month ago:

It was a set of like 8 colours and it was the first time I had ever posted any headers or anything. The issue nic had with these, was the ripped paper bottom. Because apparently you can trademark that. I had asked a (now ex) “friend” of mine if she knew where I could find the ripped paper effect because I had seen the effect on the header of her network blog and I had been trying to find a similar thing for months and google images never gave me anything good. She ended up referring me to google images anyways and after like an hour of dedicated searching, I found this ripped paper effect and used it. This ex “friend” went on to tell another friend of mine that I had "asked where nicole gets her resources for her headers" and then screenshotted my dm as "proof", which still confuses me because I never mentioned nicole there lmao. I've seen the screenshot.

Tell me where I said nicole. It was literally just a question born from seeing the header they had on their network lmao. I feel it’s important to mention I didn’t know this person ran said network at that time, which is why i said “these people”.

This other friend then came to me and just said my headers "may be seen as similar to nic's” and said she noticed it on her own and never mentioned my other “friend” approaching her. I was confused because other than that ripped paper effect that I know many people on tumblr use, I saw no similarities. Nic's headers are usually more complex and more than just a coloured background with a little effect in it. I just wanted to make some simple headers for fun because I was bored. But, regardless, I messaged nic about it to make sure she didn't feel the same way. I told her a friend of mine was worried nic might think my headers are similar to her's and I assured her that if she found them similar I would take them down, no questions asked. Nic told me she was surprised this friend brought it up and told me that it was entirely up to me if I found the headers similar. She never once told me she felt they were the same, never mentioned anything about them, she insisted it was up to me to do as I pleased. So, since I genuinely found no similarities, I left them up.

About a week went by and things between nic and I were fine, or so I thought, based off the fact that she was interacting with my posts, sending me cute asks and replying to a lot of my comments and stuff being kind and whatnot. Then, I decided to post a small list of my creations and the series I had running at the time.

After that, all of a sudden I got an influx of rude hate anons:

To anyone I mentioned the anons to, they agreed with me, you cannot trademark circular icons. This anon also accused me saying “just the fact that you had an anxiety attack about it proves you copied them” Like no sweetie, it’s called three strangers walked into my house and I got anxious.

Despite me not seeing the issue, I messaged nic, assuming she wouldn't care about the icons (it wasn't like I was taking her exact work and copying and pasting them as my own) and that made her very upset. When she responded to me, she was incredibly heated and gave off the vibe she was waiting for me to message her about it.

She said things like "this has actually been bothering me for a while", "i expected you to be able to read between the lines and delete the headers", "i don't know who that anon was but clearly they recognize my style". For starters, she never told me that she was annoyed with me, she was being very kind to me publicly. And I have no idea how I was meant to “read between the lines” of what she said especially considering how kind she was to me the following days. I also never accused her of knowing this anon, she just insisted it wasn't her and she didn't know them right off the bat. She also insinuated that I copied my gifs from others as well, which ticked me off because I made my 100+ layer psd myself thank you very much. But I kept my cool, and I told her I had no idea she felt the way she did, and I told her I would delete the headers (which i did as the conversation was going on), and that I would stop posting my icons and bringing attention to them because no one ever paid it any mind before that point. And I asked her “please tell me straight up the next time you have an issue with me because I am generally pretty dumb with social cues”, I have my adhd to thank for that. And instead of replying, she just blocked me. And conveniently, the hate anons stopped dead right after we blocked each other and I haven't received any since.

Also, these are the kinds of icons I posted:

Looks pretty generic and idk, universal, right?

Then, as I've recently found out today, she was in an "anti-loverjimin" groupchat with at least 2 other bloggers.

Which explains why this all went and fell into place. I know who the two other bloggers are because of what happened two days later but I won't name them just yet, but these two people had been "friends" with me for several months. So, a day or two after nic blocked me, all of a sudden some good friends of mine were blocking me and not talking to me when I asked what was going on. I found out soon after it was because nicole and those two now ex “friends” of mine had taken old dms I sent them and were showing them to people. And I will go into detail about them but I won't name the people they are about for privacy reasons.

Before I move on, to clarify some lies nic has been spreading about me, I never once shit talked nicole to my friends. One of these ex friends also said I was trying to get people on my side. I would have reacted to this all very very differently if that were the case. I would be dragging everyone through the fucking dirt but I don't get off on drama or micromanaging what my mutuals do. My issues are with these people, if you're still friends with them that's your decision i could not care less. So, back to it, the only thing I said about nic was that she and I had a stupid small fight over icons and that she was spreading lies about me, based off of what nic said to jordan.

That exact message, or slight variations of it, was sent to anyone I interacted with because I didn't know if nic was going to stop at jordan or try and get to everyone I fucking knew lmao. Some of the people I messaged this to told ME nic had done this kind of thing before, that she has sent hate anons, launched hate campaigns, cancelled people, etc. Over stupid shit like icons lmao.

Here are some responses I received after I mentioned nicole:

And nic or one of her friends also took it upon themselves to send anons to that tea blog to blow shit up and named everyone and made it an even bigger mess when they saw no one was actively trying to fight me after the dms got out.

I also love that in this following ask, they named my two “friends” that were behind the whole dm drama and backstabbed me, as well as two other people I never badmouthed, that story was twisted. But we’ll get into those details shortly.

And she also told people I clout chased big blogs and only cared about notes. At one point, yes, I did care a lot about my statistics. However, never once did I think clout chasing was worth my fucking time or energy, Nic is the biggest clout chaser on this damn site and there are receipts of that, ask jordan lmao. And I couldn’t give two shits about my statistics anymore lmao, much less anxiety that way. Do I still crave validation sometimes? Sure. But it's not a driving force of my tumblr experience like it used to be.

But, moving on to the dms, the first one was sent when I first came back to tumblr full-time and didn't understand why people self reblogged things, I found the pretence of self reblogging annoying and greedy and I complained about it and it was a comment fuelled by two bloggers that i would see sr a lot on my dash. But I never thought THEY were annoying, as these people are saying I did, it was self reblogging I found annoying and as you can see I have come to understand why people sr and I do it myself too. I didn't even know these two bloggers at this time either. That dm was cropped to hide the fact that this "friend" agreed with me and hid the date as well so it seemed recent, and was sent to one of the bloggers I mentioned as an example, someone I had since become good friends with.

I didn’t befriend one of the people I mentioned there until mid to late June. That friendship is now over thanks to this drama and all the lies. The second friend of mine they went after was never spoken about in dms, they went and turned her against me through lies and manipulation so that friendship has ended too. And while those two were doing that, nic went off to try and turn jordan against me.

There was a particular user on here that I did say some nasty things about but we weren't friends, as many people have been made to believe. I was particularly mad at this person in those dms and was hurtful, I admit, and I have since apologized and owned up to all of it to these people. I did call them fake and/or two-faced.

And what in the gassing me up bullshit was their response though lmao. I also sent this following dm before I even talked about the issue with this person. They urged me to continue and to name drop the person, and I stupidly thought they were trustworthy.

My reasoning for what I said wasn't unwarranted though, I don't make a habit of going around shit-talking people, unless they do something to me first. I vent when I am upset and this person had sent me a passive aggressive ask and then denied sending it when I asked and I thought that was just very fake, especially since she was so kind to me in dms before the ask came in. But all of these dms were cropped too to hide timestamps and responses, and in most cases, like those screenshots prove, these "friends" either gassed me up or egged me on to continue ranting or to name the people i was mad at and they had agreed with me on several, several occasions. Turns out they were trying to get dirt on me to use in their cancel campaign. But the point is, nic has made me out to be this horrible person that befriends "big blogs" (an overrated statement) and then shit talks them behind their back without remorse. Yet it was one person I said rude things about and I, again, owned up to it all and apologized to them the first day. I would've done it sooner had I a) remembered feeling the way I did all those months ago or remembered the dms themselves or b) felt that way still after meeting them. But neither is the case.

I find it really amusing though that these people wanted things to be kept quiet and didn’t want anyone they spoke to to talk to me about it because I was going to “out them on my blog” and “make a big scene”, then they three went and made it a big fucking scene and ruined my friendships. I’m familiar with this pattern of manipulation as it has happened to me in real life before and it’s the most childish bullshit to witness.

Before this callout day for nic, I had never once been directly rude to or about her, same goes for those ex “friends” that betrayed my trust and friendship. The fact that they plotted against me in a group chat while still actively talking to me and being all buddy buddy is just disgusting. Both of them were talking to me that day at the same time they were sharing the dms and shit-talking me to my friends. But yeah, that's my side, the untwisted side, of the whole story. I tried to be mature and talk to nic and when I didn't do what she wanted me to do, she blocked me and launched the hate campaign with dms and the power of photoshop. I’ve been hesitant to make any of this public because it was meant to be a silent ordeal but I’ve grown tired of her constantly publicizing everything without consequence while I remain silent like I promised.

#anon #replied💌#tw:negativity #drama #long post #read at your own risk aha #its a shit show #idc if you rb it #pinning temporarily for the next day(sih)#ish*#edited with screenshots and whatnot that i forgot i had on my phone lmao

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theshelbyclan · 4 years

Text

Family Secrets

Summary: Polly finally lets slip what the real Shelby curse is and as the youngest Shelby, with a little encouragement from John, you feel obligated to use it to your own advantage

(Gif by @mistress-gif) A/N: I wrote this one when I couldn’t sleep, a long time ago, fuelled by my own frustration of being picked on as the youngest. This has been a headcanon of mine for ages and I finally put it to paper. I never had any intention of posting it, but because I’ve reached the 500 followers mark, I decided to share. It’s short, fluffy and a lot lighter than the actual series. Enjoy!

Words: 3220

***

“Give me the fucking book, John!” you bellowed through the kitchen. Your aunt was adamant that you’d all eat together, one day a week, on Sunday. These dinners were great and important, but they always ended in chaos. Tommy usually left early to get on with work, so he was never part of the sibling banter that ensued.

You had just finished eating and while Aunt Polly was busy clearing the dishes, you thought you could read a little. How wrong you were.

Holding the book out of your reach, the most annoying brother in the world was grinning broadly at you. “I will punch you in the fucking throat…” you threatened. This only made John laugh harder and he threw the book over your head towards Arthur who caught it nimbly. “How about me, little sister,” Arthur said playfully, “Are you going to cut me?” With a sigh you turned around and made another failed attempt at grabbing the book. Arthur threw the book back at John and a little game had started that you had no energy for. Still, you wanted that fucking book. “Forget the book, Y/N,” Ada commented from behind her own book, “Let them have their fun.”

But you were too stubborn for your own good, “I’ll be damned if I let them win…” which gave rise to more laughter from your brothers. So you grabbed the nearest tea towel and threw it in Arthur’s face. Before he could remove it, you pounced and actually felt the book beneath your fingers now. Polly paused her work and watched the scene with interest, partially because it was sweet, in a very Shelby manner, and partially because she wanted to put a stop to it before her kitchen got destroyed. You were so close, but Arthur grabbed you around your waist and managed to get the book back to John. Now you were well and truly stuck. “Right, what now?” he teased in a low voice. “Get the fuck off!” you screamed, when John walked over to you and dangled the book in front of you. Stretching out your arms as much as you could, you could almost reach it. But John, evil as he was, used his other hand to tickle your ribs and you immediately crumpled down in Arthur’s arms. The second brother soon joined in and now you were being attacked by two pairs of hands. You dissolved in a mess of giggles within seconds and there was nothing you could do. Sliding down onto the floor, with very little hope of rescue from your sister or aunt, you were at their mercy completely. And then, like some miracle, Ada intervened. She grabbed John by the collar and pulled him back. You gasped for breath as soon as you could. “She’s had enough, John,” Ada said sternly, “Back off, or you’re next.” Arthur looked down on you with a huge grin on his face, “Ada, we both know she can take much more than that…” “Noo!” you whined and without waiting for him to finish his sentence, you rolled away on your stomach across the kitchen until you bumped into your aunt. “Should’ve punched him in the throat,” she said softly to you. “Don’t be a baby!” John called out, “It’s your own fault.” “How the fuck is it my fault?” you replied indignantly from the floor. “For being so fucking sensitive,” John grinned. Arthur joined in, “That’s right. Just turn it off.” You rolled your eyes almost audibly.

John scoffed and pushed Ada away, “You’re fourteen now, Y/N. Time to learn.”

Polly turned around swiftly, “Oh, like you ever did!”

“What?” your head shot up.

Ada looked at you with a smirk, “What, you thought you were the only one?”

As you got to your feet, Polly helped you up and said meaningfully, “That’s the real family curse, sweetheart.”

Years of them pinning you down and teasing you bubbled up in frustration, “Are you saying that I’ve been going through torture for all these years, thinking that it was just me, when all this time…”

Arthur shrugged, “You’re the youngest and smallest. Comes with the territory.”

“Besides, we’re stronger,” John added smugly. He was right of course, which made it all the more annoying.

Polly threw down the washing cloth and theatrically said, “Welcome to the Shelby family, feared by all in Birmingham and where everyone is ticklish as fuck!” Your entire worldview had been altered in seconds. Apparently this wasn’t news to your siblings, because they all looked completely unimpressed by this bit of information, while you stood there with your mouth hanging open in surprise. After thinking about all of this for a while, you asked, “Even Tommy?” “When we were kids we used to make fun of him,” John recalled with a glint in his eyes, “It’s just his ribs, but if you poke him suddenly, he literally jumps.” “He went absolutely feral,” Arthur nodded. An idea was taking shape in your head, “Would that still work, you think?” “You’ll only get yourself killed,” Ada commented in her usual bored tone of voice. “Do it!” John urged, “Come Ada, you know she’ll get away with it.” You and John had always been the most mischievous in the family and you shared a look with a similar twinkle in your eyes. You finally knew something Tommy didn’t know. This was your one chance to catch Thomas Shelby by surprise. ***

For the next couple of days, you tried to get your brother alone. It was strange, because on the one hand you couldn’t wait to try out your plan. Envisioning how he would react was brilliant already, but the feeling of power you had was even greater. However, you also feared his reaction. Thomas Shelby was a busy man and he had very little time for anyone these days. When he did spend time with you, it was short and it often involved him reprimanding you. In all honesty, you were a little scared of him, but not scared enough to let a prank like this one go to waste. You’d deal with the consequences, whatever they were.

John might’ve been even more excited than you were and whenever Tommy left to go somewhere on his own, he motioned you frantically to follow him. Finding the right time proved almost impossible though. So you decided just to get on with it. This was the day you would find out if your brother shared the family curse. Unfortunately, he’d been in a bad mood all day. He’d called a family meeting at breakfast and had left quickly after that. They’d all reconvene in the evening. Dodging all your other responsibilities, you shadowed Tommy for most of the day, but he had one business meeting after the other. His mood was getting darker and darker, and you began to wonder if you were actually suicidal. But then, unexpectedly, you found yourself alone with him outside. “Y/N,” he said strictly, “Tell me what’s going on.” You’d come outside for some peace, because today was one of the busiest days at the shop and you’d had enough of the noise. Outside, you planned on reading your book and you’d forgotten about Tommy for a minute. Until he had appeared suddenly. “Nothing,” you said, looking up.

“Then why have you been following me all day, eh?” He sounded annoyed almost and all courage left you.

Improvising quickly, you said, “Missed you at dinner last Sunday.” “I was there,” he lit a cigarette and sat down next to you on the stone steps.

“For five whole minutes…”

“There was business to attend to.” “And there’s family to attend to as well,” you replied, without missing a beat. Silently, he side-eyed you and a small smirk played around his lips, “You’re right, I’ll do better next week. Am I forgiven?” “No,” you feigned anger. He turned his head towards you and he smiled, and you couldn’t help but smile back.

The bond you had with Tommy was a complicated one. In many ways you were very similar, but the war had changed him the most. Sometimes you felt like you’d lost him completely, when you thought of how you used to talk and laugh with him when you were younger. These moments were so rare now. And these exact thoughts did the trick and you decided that you had to be the one to make that old Tommy come back, if only a little. So you said a silent prayer, decided not to overthink it and poked him in the ribs once. The effect was immediate. Thomas Shelby shot up and nearly rocketed himself off the steps. With a wild look of betrayal he turned his eyes on you and you almost burst out laughing. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?” you asked innocently.

He cleared his throat, ran a hand through his hair and sat back down. Apparently, we’re pretending this never happened, you thought.

A few seconds of awkward silence later, you poked him again. This time, a small yelp escaped him. The most feared gangster in Birmingham yelped, and you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing any longer.

As you were still trying to regain composure, Tommy pointed at you with a menacing finger, “Do that again and you will not live to tell the fucking tale.” You could only snort in reply. He was trying so hard to act all scary and while that had an effect on most people, you just couldn’t be bothered right now: It was too funny. Besides, you thought you could detect just a hint of mirth behind those pale blue eyes and decided to risk everything on just that.

“I mean it, Y/N,” he repeated, raising his eyebrows, “Do it again, I fucking dare you, and see what happens.” So you did it again.

In a flash, he was up and dove for you. But you were faster and jumped out of the way. Like the two of you were a part of a bad play, you started circling each other around the small yard. Neither said a word and seconds felt like hours. Then Arthur called from inside the house, “Tom!”

“You called a family meeting,” you reminded him, while relaxing a little at the prospect of escape.

Tommy’s eyes stayed on you and he cleared his throat again, “Fuck, alright. You’re coming with me.” And he lifted you up and threw you over one shoulder. Your shrieks filled the house as he walked through the betting den, over to the table where the family was already gathered, with you still on his shoulder. Without blinking, the leader of the Peaky Blinders announced, “Right, well you’re all here. Let’s talk business quickly…” Aunt Polly pointed vaguely at your arse, which was sticking up in the air, “You do realise you have my niece in your arms?” “Well aware, Poll,” Tommy continued, like it was the most normal thing in the world, “Business! We’ve done well this week. John’s shown me the books and we’re making more money than ever. Next week, we’re buying a new horse and I’m going to race her.” Flabbergasted, the family stared at Tommy. You could see the million questions on their faces, but they decided to wait until he was done talking. You had also refrained from protesting by now. “Poll, as treasurer I need your permission to buy the horse.” She blinked a few times and mumbled, “Buy the horse. Y/N‘s still…” Tommy held up a hand, “Not finished,” and everyone closed their mouths again, “John, I need you to talk to that old widow down the road. She’s recently lost her son and she should become part of our fund. Arthur, for fucks sake, get the books from the Garrison in order.” “It’s those bloody numbers, Tom…” Arthur grumbled in reply. “Are we all clear on what to do?” Tommy finished off in a hurry. When no one replied, he answered for them, “Good!” With this he plucked you down from his shoulder and held you in his arms bridal style. With a grave and business-like tone he announced, “As you all know, this is Y/N Shelby, youngest member of the family. While we were away in France, she kept the fort and she has often provided us with some relief in times of stress ever since we’ve come back. But not anymore.” John started to get nervous and looked from you to Tommy. Had they gone too far this time? But then he saw Arthur grinning and even Ada had a small smile on her face, so he knew Tommy was only playing. “Gentlemen,” Tommy continued, “This is the day that Y/N Shelby dies. Say goodbye to your sister.”

And that’s when you decided not to await your fate, so you made a sudden movement and jumped out of Tommy’s arms. Dashing past the table, you sought refuge behind Polly’s back.

“Told you this would happen, Y/N,” Ada said, not helping at all.

For some reason, Polly got up and left the room, while stating triumphantly, “The secret’s out, Thomas. Deal with it.” Now you just had an empty chair for protection. Tommy pointed at you directly and practically growled, “And it’s going back in.” With three of the largest steps he was at your side once again.

So you held up your hands, “Okay, wait, I can explain.”

“Too late, little sister,” Tommy said in a low voice, “These are family secrets that are not spoken of.”

“You’re such a drama queen, Tommy,” your sister commented, while getting up to leave. And all you could think was: why would you leave me alone with these mad bastards?

You really should’ve known better but decided to go for the cocky approach, “There’s no point in trying to scare me now, Tommy, knowing what I know.” You raised your eyebrows in an attempt to show him you were still in control. You weren’t. In a flash he’d tackled you to the floor and had you pinned down, while whispering ominously, “You picked the wrong brother to fuck with, Y/N Shelby.”

And for the second time in a week, you cursed your own sensitive skin as dexterous hands attacked your sides. Incapable of little but laughing and screaming, you flailed around hopelessly. Tommy’s face was slowly softening into a smile as well.

“Tommy!” you pleaded between giggles, “It was John, not me!” “Was it now?” he taunted without stilling his fingers, “And who was the fool to listen to his ideas, eh?” He moved up to your ribs, which made the pitch of your laughter increase. “Toohoohoom! Wait!”

Now, it was no secret that your major weakness in life was your sensitivity. Usually it was John who took the most advantage of it, being the mad joker that he was, but he often got Finn or Arthur to join in. Arthur on his own could be absolutely brutal, which was due to his strength as well, so there was no hope for you at all. Ada didn’t bother much, but when she did, she was merciless, much like Polly. But Tommy, he was a whole other story. You didn’t have many moments like this with him anymore, but when he did play and did get his hands on you, it was hell. He knew exactly how to reduce you to a small heap of giggles, pleading for your life and regretting all life choices up to that point. And this was happening right now. His smile was widening and he shook his head, “You thought you could beat me, eh?” “Yeheeeheees,” you admitted. Then he stopped for a second, allowing you to breathe, “Alright, you little devil, I’ll give you one a chance to speak.”

Residual giggles were pouring from your mouth, “Never… listen… to… John.” Tommy looked up at his younger brother who was showing zero remorse on his face, and he nodded slowly, “Good. What else?” “I’ve learned that Thomas Shelby sounds like a girl when…” but you never got to finish that sentence, as he continued his assault.

“Wrong answer. And you are way to ticklish to have an attitude like that, Y/N,” he said calmly.

As he dragged your arms up and dug his hands under your arms, you squeezed your eyes shut, “NOOOO, I’M SOOHOORYYY!” “Are you?” he asked, now smiling broadly at your reaction, “Then tell me what you’ve fucking learned from this, eh?” “YOU DON’T FUCK WITH THE PEAKY BLINDERS!” you managed to shout out between laughs. “That’s right,” Arthur commented, watching the scene while sitting back in his chair, “Finally, she gets it.” Tommy paused and looked at both of his brothers, as if he was waiting for their verdict. “Nah,” John decided to cause more trouble, “I don’t think she has…” Still struggling unsuccessfully to get out of Tommy’s grasp, you shouted, “John, shut your fucking mouth or I swear to God…” Tommy rolled his eyes and interrupted you, “Get her, boys,” he called out, “Let’s teach our sister some respect for her brothers.” So now there were three brothers trying to keep you in place, while you were being tickled from all sides. Why did you listen to John? Why did you not know better than to challenge Tommy? Spluttering, kicking and fighting like crazy, you managed to kick them a little bit at least, but the fact that they were all grinning down on you still meant that it didn’t help much.

Tears leaking out of your eyes, you shrieked, “YOOOUAAHAHAH AHAHAHALL SUAHAHACK!”

Then Tommy stopped them and crossed his arms in front of him. The amusement was twinkling in his eyes, “Had enough?” “Yep,” you said quickly, wiping the tears from your eyes. “Whatever Polly has told you,” he widened his eyes and brought his face close to yours, “Family secrets are not spoken of.” “Fine!” you called out, “They’re not spoken of.” His smile grew again, “Remember this, Y/N. And remember this was nothing compared to what we can do and what I will do, if you ever feel the need to cross Thomas fucking Shelby again.” You got up, again, and brushed yourself off while sending a death-stare to each of your brothers. But when Tommy smiled at you, there was a certain warmth to it that you hadn’t seen in ages.

“Wankers…” you mumbled carefully. Tommy smirked slightly, “You brought this upon yourself, Y/N. Now you know what happens…” “…when you fuck with the Peaky Blinders. Bladibladibla…” you finished his sentence. Making your way to the door, you turned back for a moment, “To be fair, Tommy, I did just saw you jump up about a foot because you’re actually fucking ticklish. So much for the whole gangster act, I should say.” Tommy’s eyes narrowed, John burst out laughing and Arthur managed to shout out a quick “Oi!” And before anyone could react, you sprinted away. Somehow, this still felt like a victory. Sure, you were the youngest and probably the most sensitive in the family, but you had discovered your own weapon now. John would be next, just for setting you up. Arthur would involve more planning. But finding Tommy’s weakness, that was the real triumph. Behind you, you could hear Tommy sit down and sigh, “Well, boys, we’re well and truly fucked now…”

And you grinned to yourself. The game was on.

***

Masterlist

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willowbleedsonpaper · 3 years

Text

Winter In The Shade I

Part I

Sirius Black x Ravenclaw Reader

W.C. : 2184

Requested by @amourtentiaa : It is Sirius' fifth year at Hogwarts, the same year he ran away from home and to the Potter's. Soon, he discovers the unfamiliar sight of his brother Regulus smiling and looking truly happy, next to him a Ravenclaw girl who immediately captures his interest. What will happen when the Black family gets involved in their sons lives and the ones they hold close to their hearts?

Warnings: None.

Want to know when I post the next part? Add yourself to my taglist!

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Regulus Black. The boy who was always by himself. He never seemed to smile, never laughed, he never had something funny to say. He looked the way a living statue would, walking around the castle with a monotonous look on his face, a perfect appearance, and the most flat sound of voice. Was he even alive? Many had asked themselves as they watched him walk past them.

You were about to find out he was indeed alive and, even if he wouldn’t admit it himself, in much need of a friend.

It was late at night, several hours after dinner, when you found yourself walking to the library for the fourth time that week. You had an herbology essay to write and were in need of a lot of research if you expected a decent grade, for some reason the exact book you were looking for was always taken, and there was only one copy of said book. Just your luck! At that point you didn’t even stop to ask for the book, just walking to the shelf where you already knew the book was supposed to be.

“Damn it.” you grunted, running your hand over the spines of the books there as you reached the empty space where the book was supposed to be. You lowered your head in exasperation, starting to read over the rest of the titles there to see if one could be of any use. You tilted your head, reading the titles in low murmurs as you walked backwards. “Ouch!” you complained, your hand instantly shooting to the side of your head where the hard feeling of what you saw was a book hit you.

“Are you alright?” asked the boy with a slight furrow of his eyebrows, placing the book he held now on the table as he neared you.

You shook your head lightly, getting the pain out of your head as you gave the boy a soft smile “I’m just fine.” you sighed, running a hand through your face as your eyes landed on the table next to you “No way.” you muttered in surprise, grabbing the book by the table and holding it to his face “Did you just hit me with Flesh-Eating Trees of the World ?”

Baffled, the boy gave you a nod “I believe so.” he said, watching as a smile appeared on your face before he said “I’m… Sorry?”

“Don’t be.” you mused “You won’t be needing this anymore, would you?” you asked, the relieved look on your face as he shook his head making him even more confused but managing to bring the smallest of smiles over his features “Thanks Merlin, I've been looking for this book over four days now.”

“I just managed to get it this morning.” he told you, your mind finally snapping out of its thoughts and more on the boy next to you.

You tilted your head, looking up at him with a kind smile “Well thank you for hitting the side of my head, I really needed it.” you said “And the book, of course.” you chuckled “It’s Regulus, right? Regulus Black.”

He awaited for the inevitable Sirius’ younger brother or any kind or relation to his older brother, but when you said nothing and just stared at him waiting for his answer he limited himself to nod.

You offered your hand to him with a kind look “Y/N Y/L/N.” you introduced yourself, shaking his hand eagerly once he took hold of yours. “I should be going now, but it was really nice talking to you.” you said, grabbing your things and walking away from him. You took one last look at him, waving your hand with a smile as his head followed your movements until you were nowhere to be seen.

His hand felt tingly as if the energy from your person remained in his skin, leaving an almost warm feeling he couldn’t quite place but he found himself looking for even more. He wanted to know more about you.

*******

You spent day and night reading the book, your essay nowhere finished as you still struggled with some of the terms there. You furrowed your eyebrows, scratching the back of your head as you turn the page back “What in Merlin's name is that?” you muttered to yourself as you turned yet another page back, looking for the term you knew but didn’t remember the meaning of. Your eyes were focused over the pages, running your fingers along the lines as you took your quill and a stray piece of parchment, taking quick notes of all the information you needed to remember.

“Healing properties?” you read, writing it down as your face turned into one of disbelief “Don’t know about that one… Side effects, that’s more like it.” you mumbled, writing furiously, not even noticing the scrap of the chair against the floor as someone took the seat in front of you.

“Do you always comment on everything you're reading?”

You rolled your eyes, looking up to see who was disturbing you when your face fell and quickly turned into a surprised one “Regulus.” you breathed out with a smile “I didn’t see you there, How are you?” you asked genuinely, putting your quill down.

“I’m fine.” he said softly, motioning with his eyes to the little mess before you “Still writing the Herbology essay?”

You groaned, letting your head fall back “Sadly, yes.” you sighed “Don’t tell anyone but Herbology isn't my strong suit.”

“Then I won’t bother you any longer.” he said “Do you mind if I sit here?” he asked you and you shook your head, his eyes flashing with a glint you never thought you’d see in his eyes.

For hours, the two of you worked on silence. The ruffling of pages, quills clinking against the bottles of ink and your low murmurs as you read over and over the pages the only sounds that flowed in the air inside the small study bubble the two of you created. At times he would ask you questions, little things he didn’t quite understand and at last, you did the same.

“Regulus?” you called, the hum you got as a response making you continue “You already finished the essay, right?” you asked.

He lifted his eyes slowly, looking at you before he nodded “Yes.” he answered simply “Why?”

You took the book before you and slid it across the table, his eyebrows scrunched together as he followed your finger “Do you think you could explain this to me?” you asked, tapping the line in the book.

He broke into a small smile, nodding his head before he lifted his eyes and met yours “Only if you tell me one thing.” he said, making you curious.

“Alright.” you said doubtfully.

“How long have you been waiting to ask me that?” he asked and your jaw dropped before you could stop it.

“I-I…” you stuttered, the smile on his lips making you even more frustrated “Oh, shut it.” you grunted, fighting the smile that threatened to grow on your lips. But he raised an eyebrow as he returned to his own book, your smile finally breaking as you reached to take the book from him “Really?” you asked.

“You want your answers, I want mine.” he said calmly.

You playfully glared at him, squinting your eyes before you sighed “An hour.” you mumbled, crossing your arms over your chest.

He let out a breathy chuckle, taking the book from your hand “How Ravenclaw of you.” he said under his breath.

You smirked at the comment, leaning down on the table to get a better look of the book as you said “Your one to talk.” you said with an amused look on your face “The Slytherin that had to embarrass me first to help me.”

You both laughed at your attitudes, the smiles now permanent on your faces as the playful bickering never ended. Not that day or any other, it became a habit for the two of you to meet at the same table to study, get homework done and read the entire library out of fun.

There wasn’t a day you didn’t see him, and people started to notice.

“I’m going to the library.” you said, getting up from the spot in the grass you sat at with your friends.

“Going to see Black, again?” One of your friends asked you, the murmurs that rose from all of them making you stop.

“I am.” you said, turning to face them with a daring look “You have a problem with that?” you asked.

“Not at all.” she said, taking a look at the others surrounding her “It’s just… well, he is weird, don’t you think? Always by himself, never talks to anyone. Besides he’s a Black, nothing good can come out of that one, I’ve heard stories….”

“So you do have a problem.” you interrupted her, crossing your arms over your chest firmly “Well, you can keep your stories. And I don’t care if he is always by himself, I really don’t see the problem with that, maybe I’ll start following his example.” you spat, turning in your heel as you started to walk away.

“Y/N!” they called after you “You know we don’t mean it like that.”

“Why do you insist on spending time with him?” one of them asked.

“Because he is my friend!” you yelled, turning one last time to see them “He is my friend and I like spending time with him.” You awaited for their replies, squinting your eyes as they just stared at you with wide eyes, or what you thought it was you until you followed their gaze over your shoulder “What?” you snapped, turning sharply to find none other than Regulus standing behind you.

“Regulus.” you breathed out, letting your shoulders relax as he locked eyes with you.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“Just fine.” you muttered, taking his arm and linking it with yours “I was just leaving.”

Arms linked together, you walked the halls of Hogwarts in silence, the tension in your body only rising as he stayed silent. “Wait.” you said, letting go of him as you literally let your body fall to the floor, sitting in the middle of the empty hallway “I need a moment.”

Regulus limited himself to stare at you, sitting on the floor with a furious hand running through your hair. Next thing he knew he was sitting next to you, playing with his hands.

“What are you doing?” you said suddenly, raising your head with a questioning look on your face.

He squinted his eyes “Waiting for you?” he said doubtfully.

You were supposed to be angry, not with him, but you were angry. Then why were you laughing, Regulus asking himself the same question. It didn’t take long for him to start laughing with you. It was a sight to be seen: Both of you sitting in the middle of the hall laughing.

“I’m sorry about what they said.” you said, after you both had calmed down and had spent a few minutes in silence “I really don’t know if you heard anything but… well, I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize.” he said “I don’t care what they say. It was what you answered that I cared about.” he admitted, reaching for your hand to give it a firm squeeze “You’re my only friend.”

You smiled at that, returning the squeeze with a chuckle “You’re my only friend too.” you said, thinking about all the things that you had done together, days spent only with the other, the small jokes and things only the two of you understood “Best friend, actually.”

“Best friend.” he repeated, with a smile.

*******

Sirius Black couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw it. One afternoon, running away from Professor Mcgonagall, he took a left turn that got him separated from his friends, the familiar laughter he thought belonged to them getting him to an empty hall.

He was about to call for James, running out of a hall only to duck his head and run back to where he couldn’t be seen, his back flat on the stone wall. He was too far away to hear the words coming out of their mouths, but that wasn’t what he was more shocked about. He listened carefully, not catching anything but the carefree sound of their voices.

He took a quick glance, watching as Regulus helped the girl to her feet, linking their arms together as they walked away, the blue scarf and Y/H/C the only thing he got from the girl next to him.

Sirius wandered the halls dumbfounded, his attention no longer on the present as a body collided against his chest, the only reason he wasn’t on the floor because James held onto his shoulders. “Pads!” James said cheerfully, his face falling as he got no response “Padfoot?” he asked “You alright?”

Sirius’ eyes met with the concerned look of his friend “I saw my brother.” he blurted out “He was smiling.”

TAGS

Skittles

@iwritesiriusly / @trinimalfoyyy /

Marauders

@destourtereaux

#winter in the shade #sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black x ravenclaw!reader #sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n #regulus black #the marauders #marauders era #marauders fanfiction #sirius black fanfiction

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ghostdrew22 · 4 years

Note

Draco admires you with your kids and their friends

SOFT || Draco Malfoy

Requested: Yes Pairing: post-war Draco Malfoy x fem!reader Warnings: one minor injury that involves blood but other than that, nothing!

WORDS : 1767

“Cass, come on, please put that down?” Draco asks with an exasperated tone as he runs after your daughter- who’s running around the living room with an evil giggle. “Scorpius, don’t you dare-“

Draco gets cut off by the sound of glass shattering as your son, Scorpius, and his friend, Liam, drop a vase off the table. He stops mid-run and sighs heavily as he runs his hands down his face.

Draco has always wanted children. For as long as he can remember he’s wanted children so that he could fill the gaping hole that was left by the lack of affection from his father. But that same hole, that very same resulting trauma, has always made him think that he just can’t do it, that he’ll end up exactly like his own father. And it’s always moments like these that make him doubt his abilities, moments like these that make him wonder if in comparison to his own father he’s too soft.

Draco would’ve never gotten away with half the stuff that your children do at this age, but also he never really had much of a childhood anyway. In a way, being a stay-at-home dad helps him make up for that and recover long lost moments of adolescence that he never had the opportunity to experience. Moments like this, in which he has to chase around your chaotic children and try not to get drunk on the sound of their elated and mischievous giggles, that he still doesn’t know if he’s earned it yet, despite the fact that he’s become a teddy bear in comparison to his own father.

The first time the two of you had discussed children you’d both agreed that one of you would be a stay-at-home parent, and at the time you’d been happy to follow in your mother’s footsteps and volunteer for the role. But then you fell pregnant and hesitated to submit your resignation papers so, in a moment of rushed and haphazard courage, Draco resigned instead and fully committed to the stay-at-home dad lifestyle, despite his perpetual fear of failure, so that you could have the advantage of both motherhood and a successful career. Draco hated his ministry job and you, paradoxically, did not- it was a win-win situation.

So now he stands in your living room, wearing an apron with your daughter’s favourite tv character on it, feeling very exasperated and out of sorts at the overwhelming responsibility of having to supervise your children’s playdates.

You walk into the living room and take in the scene- Cass, holding one of Draco’s old academic trophies as her and Jade run around with paint on their faces, and the boys wrestling on the ground, awkwardly close to the remnants of a broken vase- stopping behind your husband to wrap your arms around his waist and plop a kiss up onto his cheek. He softens into your touch and turns to kiss the side of your forehead before you sink off your tiptoes and onto the heels of your feet. “Need some help?”

To say that your twins are a handful would be an understatement, now add to that two other children with just as much chaotic energy? An absolute disaster. You’d told Draco that taking them to the zoo or the park for the playdate would’ve been a better idea but he insisted on celebrating the twin’s birthday at home and you’d obliged to his wishes. Now, he regrets not listening to you.

“If you don’t mind, that would be great.” He pouts at you and you laugh lightly at his frustration.

“Boys, break it up. Girls, freeze right now.” All the kids halt their movements and quickly turn their heads to face you with wide eyes, “There’s a cake that needs to be cut up and eaten in the next thirty minutes but I don’t think you have earned it.”

“No, we have!”

“Please mum? We’ve been good!”

Draco scoffs at your daughter’s blatant lie of having been good and you bite back a smile. “I’m sure you have, but if you really want the cake then I’m going to need you all to play a couple of games of hide and seek outside first. The winner gets the biggest slice.”

They all squeal in excitement and hurry to run out to the garden so that they can play. You quickly mutter a charm to repair the vase and turn to your husband who’s looking at you with a mixture of exhaustion and adoration.

“You’re my saviour.” He breathes out and you smile, “Somehow you spend less time with them and still manage to handle them better.”

“A mother’s touch love.” You giggle and give him a quick peck.

“I wish this mother would touch me.” He hints as he pulls you in by the waist with a grin.

“You’re so-“

A sharp cry from down the hall cuts you off and you both sigh. “I’ll go get him.” You reply.

“I’ll get the cake ready.”

The kids all come running into the kitchen excitedly at the sound of your voice calling for them to get cake. You smile at the sound of their giggles erupting into the kitchen as you play with the recently awoken baby in your arms, but your smile is gone as quick as it came at the sound of a light yelp and cry coming from one of the older kids.

Without missing a beat you rush toward the sound and find that it’s Jade harbouring a thin, but rather long, cut along the expanse of her leg and right below her knee. Draco can see that you’re moving to help her and he holds his hands out for the baby but you pay him no attention and, somehow, manage to lift the 8 year-old into your other arm and carry her up onto the kitchen counter- while still straddling your son on your hip.

“What happened sweetie?” You ask your friend’s daughter gently as you make to grab antiseptic, cotton wool and a bandage from under the sink- the place you and Draco had taken to storing them after the kids came back from playing outside with injuries one too many times.

“I think I scraped my leg against the edge of the little gate by the door.” She points toward the door that leads out to the garden and you nod in acknowledgement- knowing exactly which gate she’s referring to.

“Come here my little skittles, give mum some space to breathe.” Draco figures it’s best not to interrupt you and gestures for the other children to come toward him. They all shuffle their feet against the tile nervously as they keep their eyes trained on their friend.

“I’m so sorry love, we’ll make sure to get that fixed for next time you come over, yeah?” You ask her with furrowed eyebrows and she nods perkily. “This is going to hurt a bit, but I know that you’re a very brave girl so if you can close your eyes, count to ten for me and squeeze my hand that would be great.” She nods and follows your instructions- grabbing hold of your outstretched hand that sits underneath the baby’s bottom- while you dowse some cotton wool in antiseptic and drag it softly down the injury.

She winces but doesn’t cry, counting to ten as instructed and trying to focus on the promise of cake waiting or her, and soon enough you’ve already draped the bandage over her leg.

Draco watches the scene unfold with a look of admiration coating his features. It’s in this moment that he sees why you became an auror- no matter the situation you always present a fierce, prepared and oddly comforting energy- it’s one of the reasons he fell so deeply in love with you and it’s a quality of yours that he hopes both of your children will inherit.

“Thank you aunt Y/N.” She smiles up at you and your heart wrenches at the sight. You give her a kiss on the forehead and help her off the counter.

“You are very welcome, Jade. And I think you’ve earned the biggest slice of cake, what do you guys think?” You turn to the other children with an inquisitive gaze and they all nod quickly in agreement- wanting desperately to make their injured friend feel better. “Okay, bottoms in seats then!”

All the kids scramble to find seats around the table as you go about handing them each a plate with cake in it- making sure to give Jade the biggest slice.  Draco knows that he should feel envious at how easily you get the kids to bend at your will despite the fact that he spends way more time with them, but all he can feel is an immense sense of love and pride swelling in his heart. He feels soft.

He knows that the ‘woman can have it all’ mantra is often misleading and impractical but the truth is that you can have it all. Somehow you juggle your family and work so well it almost looks flawless, and while he knows how hard you work to keep it all steady, he still always finds himself speechless at how well you do it. Even after spending countless nights reassuring you that you’re not a bad mother for wanting a career, he can’t seem to understand why you’d ever doubt your abilities when he watches you in action.

Badass auror in the papers, loving mother in the house and generous lover in the-

“Draco?”

“Oh, sorry love, did you say something?” He blinks back his thoughts and smiles down at you.

You tilt your head backwards in a laugh and move to hand your husband the baby, “I was asking what you want to get for dinner? Blaise and Luna are picking up Jade and Liam soon so I thought that maybe we could just order in for dinner tonight?”

“That sounds lovely actually, I’m not particularly interested in cooking or eating Flora’s burnt food.” He says with a grimace- referring to your very incompetent house elf.

“You really should fire her.”

“She’s got nowhere else to go.” He pouts and you roll your eyes.

“When did you become so soft?” You raise your eyebrows at him and he shrugs as he watches you speak sweetly to your son that he’s got in his arms.

In that moment he already knows the answer, he became so soft the minute you came into his life, and he wouldn’t want it any other way.

“I won hide and seek by the way, so that cake was rightfully mine.” Scorpius grumbles out- even though he wears the signature Malfoy grin on his lips- and you all laugh at his random outburst.

<~>

So there’s my first ever request! I hope I did it justice, it was a little difficult to put someone else’s vision down and into words but it was a really nice challenge and I’d like to do more so please feel free to request moreeee.

Jean <3

#draco #draco malfoy #draco x y/n #draco imagine #draco fanfiction #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco angst #draco fluff #dad draco #fluff #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine #harry potter x reader #blaise zabini #luna lovegood

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milkybonya · 3 years

Text

it's you

order 005 for anon: large banana milk tea with pudding, lychee jelly and grass jelly

Warnings: some explicit language, flooding mentions

Summary: when you and your soulmate kiss, a small, very small part of your hair will turn white. But why would you and college!Minchan ever kiss when you hate each other?

word count: ~3k

[a/n]: i miss Minchan so much pls :( aLSO I'M SORRY THIS IS SO SH*T AND LATE BUT I HAD FUN WRITING IT!!!

"Move out of my spot," Minchan sighs, towering over you as you sit hunched over your notes in the front row of the lecture hall.

"No, why should I?" you spit out, still looking down.

"Because it's my spot, didn't you hear me say that?" Minchan clarifies with a scoff.

"Oh just shut up. Is your name written on here anywhere?"

He sighs and chooses to sit behind you, accepting defeat for now.

"Can you and Minchan not just give it a rest for one day?" your friend asks you as they take the spot beside you.

"If he wasn't so annoying, then maybe I would be able to do that," you say, organizing your notes for today's lecture.

Minchan kicks the back of your leg with his foot after hearing your words, and you turn around, sighing.

"You're literally proving my point. Just stop," you say.

"You stop badmouthing me first then," Minchan says with a smirk.

"Okay, good morning everyone!" the professor says, causing you to turn back to the front so you can pay attention.

The lecture passes peacefully as the two of you focus. Sure, you have a deep rivalry, but you're both dedicated students who never mess around when a lecture begins.

It's only after it ends that Minchan gets on your nerves again.

You find it right in front of a vending machine, pressing the buttons to dispense a drink. After he steps away, you realize that he had bought your favourite drink, and you don't think much of it until you step up to also buy that drink... only to find there's no more left.

"Minchan, what the hell? You don't even like that flavour anyway, why did you have to take the last one?!" you yell, pointing at the drink in his hands.

He shrugs in response, unscrewing the cap.

"If you want it, you'll have to do something for me."

"And what's that?"

"Convince everyone that we're dating."

"Just for a drink?!" you exclaim.

"I'll have a lifetime supply for you. Anytime you want, just tell me and I'll buy you one."

"Minchan... have you lost it? You know I hate you, right? Why would I pretend to be your s/o?"

"Because people think I'm dating this stuck-up asshole and it's ruining my reputation."

"Why would me dating you fix anything?"

"Because you get good grades, [y/n]. Not as good as mine, but good enough. And I hate your guts, but everyone else seems to think you're alright."

You sigh, shaking your head at the boy.

"I'll give you the drink this once. You've got till tomorrow to think about it," he says, flashing you a smile before walking away.

Confused, the drink almost slips out of your hands as you shuffle to your dorm, feeling bewildered.

"So Minchan, your mortal enemy wants you to fake date him?" you friend asks you, sitting on your bed while watching you pace around.

"Yeah."

"That makes no sense."

"Right?!"

"And all you get out of it is a lifetime supply of your favourite drink?"

"Yeah! I mean, those drinks are expensive so..."

"No, [y/n]! Focus!" your friend tells you, holding onto your hands and shaking them.

"Right, right," you mumble.

Your friend suddenly claps their hands and you jump back in fright, swearing at them for scaring you.

"I've got it! Just tell him that you'll only do it if he stops being such a little shit to you."

"So... fake date him to stop our annoying rivalry?" you repeat.

Your friend nods and you step back to properly consider their words. It doesn't sound so bad, especially since your rivalry with Minchan kind of started out of nowhere anyway, and you've always been hoping you never met him so this stupid thing would stop.

You: hey! dumbass!

stinky min: ???

You: let's do it

stinky min: ??

You: the,,, thing

stinky min: well don't be shy now

stinky min: spit it out

You: YOU KNOW WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT!

stinky min: you want to date me?

You: fake* !!! FAKE date you yes

stinky min: ok

You: ugh i hate you

stinky min: :D

You: IT'S ONLY ON ONE CONDITION THO

stinky min: and that is?

You: we end this dumbass rivalry and you stop being so annoying

stinky min: sorry babe can't do that

You: okay then bye

stinky min: NO WAIT

stinky min: i was joking..

stinky min: fine..

stinky min: tomorrow for our first class,, you better come sit next to me when i wave to you

"[y/n]!" Minchan yells, waving at you frantically with a big smile on his face.

You sigh and cover your face with your hand as you compose yourself, wondering why you're doing this for a lifetime supply of drinks and for this stupid rivalry to be over. Then, you finally look up and nod in Minchan's direction, approaching his spot in front row. You slide into the seat he saved for you while gritting your teeth and whispering, "why are you sitting in my seat?"

"[y/n], I saved a seat for you in the front row! Since you always like to sit here," Minchan says, obnoxiously loudly.

"I can see that, dumbass," you whisper, still continuing to smile at him while gritting your teeth.

"[y/n], be a bit more natural, would you?" Minchan whispers, stretching an arm around you and pulling you close.

You almost fly off your seat as you hadn't expected him to do this, but stay put despite your heart thumping heavily in your chest. When he leans his head on your shoulder, you have to do everything not to punch him.

"Your heart's beating so fast, my dear," Minchan mumbles.

"Are they dating?" someone whispers in the row behind you.

Murmurs begin to rise and Minchan smirks the whole time, his head still on your shoulder. His hair feels strangely fluffy and soft against your neck.

When the lecture begins, Minchan sits up straight but listens to the whole lecture with his hand around your waist. All of this skinship makes you dizzy and angry, and by the time the lecture is over, you've pulled Minchan aside to have a word with him.

"Minchan, if you're doing to do things like this, then I want out."

"What do you mean, babe?" he says, reaching forwards to push your hair back with his fingertips.

You catch his hand with yours, holding it there.

"This is what I mean," you say, pointing to his hand sitting on your head.

"Well we're dating, aren't we? Isn't it natural to show some skinship?"

"Minchan, firstly this isn't even real. Secondly, skinship isn't a required thing or anything. So just... chill out, okay?"

Minchan leans forward until his lips are right next to your ear.

"Why, is it cause I make your heart rate increase?"

"No!" you yell, pushing him a way.

A couple of students see this and speed walk away, whispering amongst themselves while staring at you.

"Okay, [y/n], calm down. I'll go easy on you, I promise. Have this drink and I'll see you later," he says, holding out your favourite drink.

"When did you even buy this?" you ask, taking it from him.

"Be there at the party tonight, okay?" he tells you while walking away.

What party? you wonder, until you check your phone. Someone has posted in your class about a party happening in Minchan's dorm building.

Sighing, you start to write a text to Minchan asking him why you have to attend a dumb party when you don't like parties anyway, but he messages you first.

stinky min: going to the party will be a great place to show everyone we're dating. and finally stop people talking behind my back... so be there, okay?

stinky min: and about the skinship.. i'm sorry. i'll genuinely stop. but at least you only have to see me a couple times during the day! it's not like we're in the same dorm or anything..

After getting your studying and classes done for the day, you head to Minchan's dorm building, which is already flooded with people.

"How isn't anyone getting in trouble for this?" you mumble, looking at the people scattered across the hallways with drinks in their hands, socializing.

You weave through the people, searching for Minchan.

"Hey! Looking for your... boyfriend?" a familiar voice asks you, taking hold of your arm.

You turn around to see your friend, looking lovely as ever.

"Yeah... seen him anywhere?" you ask.

They point upstairs while saying, "he's in his room, 204, waiting for you."

"Alright, I'll see you around then!"

"Don't have too much fun," your friend says with a wink.

Fun? This is not fun at all, you sigh, trudging upstairs and pushing past people to find room 204.

When you finally find it, you're surprised to see it's the only room with the door closed. You knock and the door knob quickly turns, revealing a very.... annoyingly attractive Minchan, with his hair parted comma style, wearing a white tee and a blue jean jacket.

"[y/n], you came! Come in, the real party's in here," he says, inviting you inside.

You walk in to find his TV showing a game he was playing, and he sits down to continue.

You throw him a confused look, but he just stares back at you.

"What? I know you didn't wanna be there, so let's at least have some fun before we have to go out there," he tells you, patting the spot on the ground next to him.

"Wow, Minchan. This is actually the kindest thing you've done for me," you reply, sitting next to him and taking the controller he's offering you.

After absolutely destroying Minchan in the game he thought he was the best at (what a reality check for him!) the two of you stand up and take a few deep breaths before stepping out into the hallway.

"Hey, you owe me something for beating you," you say before Minchan opens the door.

"Oh, shut up," he says, but with a smile.

As soon as he opens the door, people start to greet him. It isn't surprising, since he is just a bit of a popular guy. Okay, maybe more than a bit, but you don't want to admit that.

Many people ask Minchan if he broke up with Jennifer, the stuck-up asshole that he had been telling you people thought he was dating, and Minchan clarifies each time, with a bright grin, that they were never dating, but that it's only ever been him and you.

Everyone seems to find this so cute, but you almost vomit on the spot. Who would've known that Minchan could be so cringey?

Feeling tired after socializing with so many people, the two of you find your own space to stand in one another's company for a second.

"So, how does it feel, Minchan?" you ask him.

"To be dating you?" he asks back, a cheeky grin on his face.

You hiss at him and shake your head.

"No! To be rid of that dumb rumour about you and Jennifer."

"Ah, it feels good! Thanks, [y/n]. Do you want me to go grab your favourite drink for you? The vending machine here has it."

You take a second before agreeing, telling yourself that you deserve it after having role played for so long.

A few moments after Minchan leaves, the somewhat loud music that had been blasting this whole time stops, and someone starts yelling from up the stairs.

"GUYS, THERE'S BEEN A FLOOD AND IT'S SUPER BAD. IT'S SPREADING TO ALL THE HALLWAYS SO WE NEED TO LEAVE NOW!" he shouts.

Even from down there you can notice water pooling around his feet from where he stands near the stairs, and water trickling down the steps, too.

Some people immediately rush out, but you search around for Minchan for some time, wondering why he's taking so long. Then, the flood starts getting really bad, rushing down the stairs and beginning to approach you.

You start speedwalking towards the door, not even stopping when someone grabs your arm.

"[y/n]! You waited for me?" the person asks.

You turn to find Minchan with his pants soaked up to his knees and holding your favourite drink while panting.

"No. Maybe. Anyways, let's go!" you say, dragging him out with you.

That whole night, no one gets any sleep as the campus' staff decide what to do with all the students who won't have a place to sleep. It's only at 4am that they decide on a solution: to send everyone from Minchan's dorm into your dorm, because yours is the one with the most vacant spots.

And as if by the worst luck on this planet, Minchan just has to be placed right. In your. Room.

He trails in at 4:32am, shyly following you inside and acting very differently from his usual arrogant state.

"So this is where you sleep, huh [y/n]?" he quietly asks, looking at your bed.

"Yeah, of course. This is my dorm, what would you expect? That bed on the other side is vacant, so you can sleep there. If you need anything, just go grab it. But if you can't find it or need help, you can wake me up, it's honestly fine," you explain, grabbing your clothes so you can get changed in the bathroom

Minchan stops you.

"No, [y/n], it's fine! I'll change in the bathroom. You change here and tell me when you're done."

You shrug and nod, accepting his offer.

Once you're both changed, you decide to just sleep, because by now it's 5am and you both have class in a little over 3 hours. But you're unable to sleep with the presence of another person in your usually empty room, and you notice Minchan rustling around in his bed, too.

"Having trouble sleeping?" you whisper, not wanting to wake him in case he's actually asleep.

"Yeah..." Minchan says with a sigh.

"Let me just turn on the light, cause I can't sleep either-"

"No! It's better like this." Minchan says, interrupting you as you begin to leave your bed.

You fall back on it, sitting on the edge.

"Anything... I can do to help you sleep?" you ask him, feeling weird that you're being so nice to someone who was your enemy not too long ago.

"Do you wanna cook something?" Minchan asks you after a long silence.

"Cook? Now?"

"We didn't eat," Minchan points out, making you laugh.

"I guess you're right!" you say, standing up to turn on the light.

With whatever random ingredients you have, Minchan helps direct you in making a meal, carefully teaching you how to cut the vegetables and how to fry things correctly. He always gets real close when he does this, but never touches you since he thinks you wouldn't like that. You notice this and appreciate it.

At one point, Minchan asks you to lean in close to the stove to look at the texture of the food. You lean in and place your head practically next to his.

"See how it's this colour and is a lot softer? That means it's done!"

Minchan turns to you after he says this, and this might sound crazy, but your faces are so close to each other that Minchan's lips literally graze yours when he turns to you.

He immediately jumps back and apologizes, laughing slightly for his stupid mistake while covering his mouth with his hand. You, on the other hand, feel mortified and hold your lips with your fingers, wondering if they haven't fallen off or anything, because for some reason, they feel like they're buzzing.

"Wait, [y/n], why is your hair... turning white?" Minchan asks, pointing to your hair.

You notice a strand of white in Minchan's hair too, and you also point up to it. Reaching out to touch each other's white strands, the two of you seem to realize at the same time.

"Ah... so it's you? You're my soulmate?" Minchan asks, his cheeks clearly tainted red.

"I guess so... Damn, that wasn't even a real kiss but it was enough to turn our hair white!"

The two of you remain speechless for a few moments.

"So I'm really soulmates with my enemy?" you ask, groaning.

"Hey, I guess we have to learn to love each other now," Minchan says, puckering his lips and fake-kissing the air.

You push his face away and run off towards your bed, leaving Minchan chasing you around your room while the two of you laugh loudly. Thankfully you don't get any noise complaints, but running around at 6am leaves the two of you running on an all-nighter for your first class.

As the two of you practically fall asleep on each other for the whole class, everyone giggles at your sleepy states, but most importantly, gawks at the white strands in your hair.

"So they were really meant to be, huh," your friend says, sitting behind you and kicking your shin, forcing you awake so you can pay attention.

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waka-chan-out · 4 years

Text

Ballroom Dancing

(Tsukishima Kei x Fem!Reader)

I wrote a Tsukishima dance fic and I’m here to make it everyone’s problem

post-timeskip, obviously.

word count: 4.4k

content warning: SMUT, semi-public sex, degredation, taunting because he’s a little shit, brat!reader, oral (m. recieving), hair pulling, fingering, alcohol consumption (nothing crazy), slight orgasm denial, light choking

also featuring: kuroo and kenma

“I cannot believe you talked me into this,” you said, turning into your friend as you scanned the huge ballroom.

“What do you mean? You look great.”

“I know I look great, Tetsu, but I still feel ridiculous.”

“Why? Once you start dancing you’ll feel better.”

“Whatever you say. Please dance with me first or I will combust.”

“As you wish,” Kuroo said with a laugh. You moved towards him as he took your hand, starting to move you around the room. The other couples on the dance floor were pressed against each other, hands slipping down from their partner’s waists and faces leaning in close to whisper who knows what in each others ears. Kuroo held you respectfully, knowing that he dragged you here and you could run off at any moment if you felt like it. The music swelled, filling the ballroom with a beautiful hum. The room was huge and silver. A giant chandelier dangled from the ceiling and cast lovely shattered flecks of light all around the room.

You had practiced this dance so many times that you could go into autopilot and observe your surroundings without missing a beat. Kuroo spun you quickly as your eyes passed over the crowd. You recognized a few faces as Kuroo’s friends from college. Some of them he had known since high school. All of the friends of his you had met so far were fun. If they could put up with Kuroo they could put up with anything.

You saw Kenma in the crowd and cast him a smile. He held up a hand to greet you. You knew he’d find you later and talk your ear off, but there was no way you could get him in the middle of the room for a dance. He looked handsome in his tuxedo. He was never as strong as Kuroo, but he still filled it out nicely with his newfound confidence.

“Hey, Kei is here!” Kuroo said happily. You looked back at him with confusion. You knew the name, but he was one of Kuroo’s high school friends that you hadn’t met yet.

“Where?” you asked.

“Right next to Kenma. The blond.” You spun around again and looked over to where Kenma was. A giant loomed over him, his back to you. He had shaggy blond hair and looked relatively thin, but you could see muscle through his tight-fitting dress pants.

“Jesus, how tall is he?” you asked. “He looks huge compared to poor Kenma.” Kuroo laughed.

“He’s always been big. Last time we saw each other he said he was over 6’4 but who knows at this point.” Your eyes widened.

Kuroo let out his hyena laugh in response and the blond - Kei, though you didn’t know his last name - turned at the clearly familiar sound. He wore a wide pair of glasses that framed serious eyes. His face was cold as he turned, but as soon as he saw Kuroo it softened into a smile. He held up a hand, long fingers twitching slightly in greeting. Kuroo’s hand left your waist, waving eagerly back at his friend.

“After this song let’s go say hi,” he said. You nodded, eyes still fixed on the man. His face settled into a slight smirk as he observed you, then turned back to Kenma, running a hand through his blond hair.

The song ended and you and Kuroo made your way to the edge of the ballroom, but the blond was nowhere to be found. Kenma greeted you with a hug and a shower of compliments. He had really come out of his shell since college.

“Where’d Kei get off to?” Kuroo asked.

“No idea,” Kenma said, glancing around. “He’s hard to miss, though. I’m sure you’ll find him easily enough.” He laughed. “I think he’s grown even more since we last saw him.”

“Are you serious? That’s hardly fair.”

“Agreed. No man deserves to be 6’5.” Six fucking five. It wasn’t often you ran into someone that could dwarf Kuroo. Jesus. You needed a drink.

“I’m heading to the bar, Tetsu,” you said. Kuroo nodded and waved you on, chatting happily with Kenma as you walked away.

Even the bar sparkled with silver. The man behind the counter wore red velvet, looking more like an employee at the Tower of Terror than a bartender.

“What can I get for you, love?” he asked.

“What can you make?”

“Absolutely anything you’d like.”

You laughed. “Can you make a mojito? Pineapple, if it’s possible.”

“Absolutely.” He turned and began to skillfully rifle through the selection of rum behind him.

“What are you, on vacation?” a voice asked behind you. You could almost hear the smirk in his words. You turned, immediately having to look higher up than you thought you would. Kuroo’s blond friend stood behind you with a sly smile on his face.

“Something wrong with my order?”

“I think the answer to that is pretty obvious,” he said, leaning on his elbows against the bar beside you, shrinking to your height. “Who orders pineapple at an event like this?”

“People who don’t give a shit about the snooty atmosphere.”

He cocked an eyebrow and looked away, watching the bartender make your drink. “Am I snooty, then?”

“I think the answer to that is pretty obvious.”

“I assure you, snooty I am not.”

The bartender set down your drink in front of you, plopping a cherry on top as he did so. “There you go,” he said cheerfully. “Whose tab will this be on?” He looked between you and the blond.

“I’m not paying for their little cocktail, thanks.” Kei shrugged and looked at you, that annoying smile still glinting in his eyes.

“I guess that’ll be mine, then. Put it under y/n. I’m definitely not done drinking tonight.” Your eyes met the his. He was looking at you with an unreadable expression, eyes glinting with something that looked like amusement. The bartender laughed and turned to the other man.

“Anything I can get you?” Kei let his eyes leave yours.

“Dry martini, please.” You laughed loudly and took a sip of your drink. The bartender began his order and the tall man looked at you.

“Something funny about my order, too?”

“A dry martini? Who are you, James Bond?”

“Tsukishima. Kei Tsukishima.” He smiled widely this time, clearly amused at your reaction.

“Y/n,” you replied, happy that he went along with the joke. The bartender set the martini down in front of Tsukishima. He picked it up and licked his lips, taking a sip without letting his eyes leave yours.

“Put this on their tab, as well,” he said.

“Excuse me?” you said, incredulous at his attitude.

“I’ll get the next.” He took another sip as the bartender walked off to deal with his other customers. “So, you Kuroo’s new partner?” The word fell from his mouth dripping with sarcasm. You choked out a laugh.

“Absolutely not. We’ve been friends since college.”

“College, huh? He ever mention me?”

“Yeah, actually. I’ve heard all about what a brat you are. He pegged you perfectly.”

Tsukishima smiled. “You think I’m being bratty?”

“You are absolutely being bratty. Don’t forget I’m paying for your drink.” His eyes kept on sparkling. You weren’t sure what he was thinking, but the way he looked at you made it feel like he was seeing straight into your thoughts.

“So.” He twirled the glass in his hand. God, his hands were huge. “If Kuroo’s not your partner . . .”

“If I wasn’t here with Kuroo I’d be dancing alone.” He nodded, looking satisfied with your answer. He threw back the rest of his martini and gestured to your cup.

“Finish your drink,” he said, straightening up and towering over you again.

“Why?”

“We’re going to dance, dumbass.”

You raised your eyebrows at him. He mirrored your expression and nodded at your glass. “Finish it or I’ll finish it for you.”

You glared up at him, pulling the cherry out by the stem and tipping the drink back, swigging the last bit of bitterness. You popped the cherry in your mouth and flicked the stem into Tsuki’s empty glass. He smirked and made his way through the crowd. You followed, head a bit hazy from chugging your drink so quickly.

He made it to the edge of the dance floor right as the next song began playing. He turned and held out a hand to you. His fingers were long and well-manicured. You raised your eyebrows with as much attitude as you could muster, taking his hand. He smiled. His hand was soft and a little cold. He pulled you onto the dance floor.

Your breath caught in your throat as his hand settled on your hip, long fingers splaying out and digging into your side. It was almost possessive. This close he smelled like basil soap and something musky that made your head spin as he gracefully sidestepped and led you around the room.

For such a tall man, he was a remarkably good dancer. His movements were precise and sure, leading you better than even Kuroo did. When he moved his arms you could see his jacket strain slightly. He wasn’t a thick man by any means, but what he had was all muscle. His eyes didn’t leave yours as you danced, intense gaze making you antsy but determined not to look away first.

“I didn’t mention this before but your dress is lovely.” His gaze trained down your body as he spoke.

“What, are you being nice now?” you asked.

“I can be mean if you’d like.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.” His eyes darkened.

“Try me.”

“You sure?”

You shrugged. His hand slid along to the small of your back and he dipped you. Your breath caught in your throat as he pulled you back up, face suddenly serious. He looked around the room.

“Do you know how much attention you’re drawing to yourself with that neckline?”

You scoffed. “What does that mean?” He leaned down, very close to your ear. You got goosebumps as he spoke.

“I’m saying your dress makes you look a little slutty.” You drew your head away from him. He perked back up and smiled at your shock. “I thought you wanted me to be mean.”

“I wasn’t expecting you to diss my dress.”

He shrugged and dug his fingers into your side, pulling your hips flush against him. “I never said I didn’t like it.”

Your face felt suddenly hot. He grinned.

“You’re a pretty little thing when you’re flustered,” he said.

“Keep talking and those dress pants aren’t going to be able to hide how pretty you think I am.” His eyebrows shot up, this time in genuine surprise. You smiled. He clearly wasn’t used to encountering people willing to taunt him back. He looked away for a moment and regained his composure.

“Why would I try to hide that?”

“You seem the private type. I figured a broom closet or bathroom stall would better suit your taste.” His smile darkened.

“Done.”

Your eyes widened. “What?”

Too late. He was already pulling you off of the still swirling dance floor.

He led you past the bar and down a hall, clearly familiar with the terrain. The hallway was littered with doors, but he led you to one of the very last ones. He threw open the door and pulled you inside. The room was mid-sized but cramped. There were chairs lining the table. The walls looked strangely soft, like it was soundproofed for privacy’s sake. There was a window on one side. Moonlight streamed through the half-shut blinds, giving the room a cold glow.

Tsukishima wasted no time in locking the door and taking you by the hips, pushing you against the wall.

“You’re a testy one, aren’t you?” he growled, gripping the fabric of your dress tightly.

“I try to be,” you replied, hand finding its way into his hair and pulling him down to your lips. He kissed you hungrily. His lips were soft and angry, attitude apparent even in how his tongue slipped into your mouth. He was teasing you without words, daring you to push back. You obliged, biting down lightly on his bottom lip. He let out a small sound and pushed harder against you. He separated from you and began to trail aggressive kisses down your neck.

“If you’re going to be smart with your mouth I’ll give you something else to do with it,” he breathed against you. You shivered.

“You’re all talk so far,” you sighed. “If you’re going to do it, do it.” You felt his lips curl into a smirk against your shoulder.

“Naughty thing,” he murmured. His hands trailed up your body, finding your face. He held your cheeks and smiled. He ran a finger across your bottom lip. “Why don’t you show me what else those pretty lips can do?” You said nothing but grabbed his belt all the same, staring him in the eyes with a smug expression on your face. Once his dress pants were undone you sunk to your knees in front of him. He inhaled sharply at your compliance.

He was hard already at the way you kissed him. You wasted no time pulling down his boxers and taking him all the way into your mouth.

“Fuck,” he groaned as he hit the back of your throat. He covered his mouth with his hand, seemingly more out of restraint than to actually hold back any noise. You continued moving your head, tongue sliding over the head of his cock. It didn’t take long to figure out that drove him crazy. His groans raised in pitch the more you took advantage of how sensitive he was. You wrapped a hand around him and swirled your tongue around his head. He let out what was almost a whimper and grabbed your hair, gripping it so tightly it made your eyes water. You sped up, eliciting similar sounds from him.

“Mother . . . fucker,” he groaned in a whisper, hand moving from deep in your hair to your forehead, his touch nearly a caress. You slowed your pace at his enthusiasm and his breathing hitched.

“Fuck. Don’t do that.” You hummed in amusement, the vibrations causing him to tip his head back. You sped up again. Just as he began whimpering you slowed again. His second hand found your hair this time, both tugging tightly.

“One more time and I -- fuck.” He tipped his forehead forward against the wall as you quickened your pace again. You felt him twitch in your mouth and knew he was close.

“Shit. Fuck. Fuck.” He spat out his words, rocking his hips a bit to the pace you set. “Oh, fuck.” His swearing raised in pitch. He was so close. “I --” You pulled off of him completely and looked up at him. His eyes were shut tight. His hips bucked and he let out a horrible little whimper. His breathing was irregular as he repeated the word “fuck” over and over again, to himself and to you. The haze of his denied orgasm began to fade and he looked down at you with deadly serious eyes.

“I’m not playing that fucking game.” He tugged on your hair, pulling you into a standing position. It hurt in the best way, especially satisfying now that he was so riled up. He whirled you around and pinned you against the table. He lifted your hips so that you were seated and began pushing your dress up, hands lost in the mess of skirts.

“You don’t get to pull some shit like that and think you’re getting away with it.” His hands slid up your thighs and pushed them apart. You shivered. His long fingers found the lace of your undergarments.

“Slutty under here too. I should have expected that.” He pressed his fingers against you through the cloth, making you inhale sharply in anticipation. “Oh well,” he chuckled. “These just make it easier for me.” He pushed the fabric aside and slipped a single long finger inside of you. You gasped and your brows furrowed. He mirrored your expression like he was taunting you.

“So wet just from sucking my cock.” He whispered the words like he almost didn’t want you to hear the taunt. He pushed a second finger into you. You breathed out hard, suppressing a noise. He chuckled.

“Oh, no. You don’t get to act all shy now,” he said. His fingers curled and you let a moan escape. “There we are.” His smirk returned to his face. He repeated the motion. You felt your core tightening, forcing your back to arch up against him.

“Fuck,” he breathed. “You’re pretty when you’re all wound up. Too bad you’re such a whore. You let guys do this to you often? Whisk you into a dark room and have their way with you?” You shook your head. He laughed lightly, curling his fingers again. You moaned, gripping his shoulders tightly. “I like your honesty. I guess you’re only a slut for me.”

His pace inside you was steady and his gaze was intense. You knew you were close but if you told him that he’d probably pull away just you did to him. Your eyes shut tightly, hand finding his hair and tugging. You swore and he pulled his hand away. Though you were expecting the motion, it didn’t stop your thighs from closing tightly, begging for the contact that was no longer there. He slipped his fingers into his mouth so casually it made you gasp. He popped them out after a moment and ran his messy hand through his hair.

“Sorry to torture you back,” he said, pushing your legs apart again and pulling your hips closer to the edge of the table. “But when you come I want it to be on my cock.” He slipped his dress pants down again and tugged the lace off of your legs. He ground his hips forward, rubbing against you. Your breathing hitched and he laughed.

“So needy for me. What would you do if I just walked out?” You glared up at him and wrapped your legs around him, pulling him close.

“Not letting me go, huh? Don’t have to tell me twice.” He pushed inside of you slowly, brows furrowing and eyes fluttering closed as he did so. You both swore as he buried himself inside of you. He was big, but it didn’t hurt. You wiggled your hips a little, wishing he would move. He chuckled at your efforts.

“You want me to hurry up? You’re gonna have to ask nicely.” You glared up at him.

“Please,” you muttered.

His brows shot up.

“Please what?”

“Please move already, you stubborn fuck.”

He laughed in surprise.

“So dirty. You asked nicely though, so . . .” He drew his hips back and drove back into you. You let out a sigh. He grabbed the back of your neck with his huge hand and pulled you forward into a kiss as he continued moving. His swearing and your moans got lost in the kiss as he set a faster pace. He pulled away from your lips, leaving his forehead leaning against yours.

“Fuck.” He choked on a groan as he spoke. “You make such pretty sounds. Did your drink make you this honest or is it my cock?” You buried a fist in his hair and pulled. He let out an unexpectedly loud sound at the motion. He stared down at you, eyes on fire.

“Shut the fuck up,” you breathed. He grinned and pulled you in for another kiss, this one much more desperate. His hand trailed up your neck, squeezing lightly as he did. You tipped into his palm but it kept traveling upwards. It stopped along your jaw, thumb slipping up to separate your kiss. He slipped it into your mouth. He swore as you eagerly sucked in the finger, staring him in the eye. He smiled and pulled it back, returning his lips to yours. His hand slipped down between your legs, using the thumb that had been in your mouth to trace a circle on your clit. You gasped and moved away from the kiss. He caught your head with his other hand, keeping you close to him as he continued the snap of his hips and the motion of his finger.

“Fuck, Tsukishima.” He sped up the pace of his hand.

“Say that again.” He sounded desperate, leaning his head into your shoulder.

“Tsukki . . .” you trailed off before you could say anything else, lost in the feeling of him. He let out what sounded like a growl at the sound of his name.

“Fuck,” he said. It was almost pathetic how messy he sounded. You buried your hand in his hair again, tugging slightly.

“Tsukki, please.”

He let out a shaky sound. He picked his head up and laid a quick kiss on you.

“Come with me. Please,” he said. You nodded and your head tipped back. He began swearing under his breath, words bleeding together into a mess of desperation.

“Fuck, Tsukki,” you moaned, body tensing as you came. At the feeling and sight of you finishing he quickly followed, pulling out of you but leaving his thumb moving to carry you through your orgasm. Your faces pressed against each other, both breathing hard. You felt him twitching against you as he came. He might have gotten on your dress, but that was the last thing on your mind.

His sweaty face buried into the crook of your neck and his arms slipped around your waist, holding you close to him. Your shaky hands found their way into his hair, running your fingers gently through the mess. It felt good to just hold him as you both caught your breath, his strong chest rising and falling against you. He withdrew slightly and placed a gentle, sloppy kiss on your lips before letting out a laugh. You did the same, smiling up at his face. You hadn’t even noticed, but he was still wearing his glasses. They were fogged up from leaning against you.

“You’re pretty,” you said, pushing the frames up into his hair and pressing a gentle kiss onto his lips. When you pulled away his face was red.

“Don’t just say shit like that,” he muttered.

“Aw, who’s flustered now?” You laughed as his face twisted into a frown. He put his glasses back on properly and peeled himself away from you.

“We really should get back,” he said, tugging his pants back up and redoing his belt. You nodded but were unsure what to do about the problem he had left all over your thighs. He saw you hesitating and laughed when he realized what you were thinking.

“Here,” he said, picking up your underwear and approaching. You looked at him in confusion before he used them to clean you off and slipped them into the inside pocket of his jacket. He noticed you staring in horror and laughed.

“I have to give them back at some point now,” he smirked. “Guess you’ll have to see me again.” You rolled your eyes in amusement as you rearranged your dress and tried your best to fix your hair. He was having trouble with his since the rim around his face was coated with sweat. You tried your best to help him. He stared at you with a gentle smile as you worked. You pretended not to notice.

“I think it’s best if we go out one at a time,” he said. You nodded and he approached the door, turning to face you before he left. “Do I look like I just fucked someone in a dark room?” You grinned and shook your head.

“You look fine.”

“You look great, too,” he said with a small smile. He left the room and left you alone, waiting impatiently to go. When it had been long enough you slipped the door open and walked out, shakier on your feet than you’d like to be.

You immediately went to the bar, asking for a shot of tequila. Anything to soothe your nerves. You took it quickly and shook your head. You were fine. You just needed to make sure you got Tsukki’s number from Kuroo.

“Y/n! Jesus, there you are.” Speak of the devil. You turned to face Kuroo as he approached, Kenma and a disheveled looking Tsukishima in tow. He looked flushed. His hair was still messy and a little sweaty despite his best efforts. Your eyes widened with pride when you saw him looking so fucked. You smiled at Kuroo.

“Sorry, I went wandering.”

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

“Got lost.”

“Of course you did. I wanted you to meet my friends.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, ‘oh’. This is Tsukishima Kei. We knew each other in high school. We were volleyball rivals.” Kuroo looked proud as he explained. “I taught him everything he knows.”

“Oh, I’m sure not everything,” you said, turning to Tsukki. His eyebrows raised at your borderline suggestive comment. He reached out to shake your hand with the same hand that had been buried in you not long ago.

“It’s nice to meet you, y/n,” he said through a smile.

“They haven’t said their name,” Kenma said, frowning. Tsukki’s eyes widened before setting into a more sure expression.

“Kuroo mentioned them earlier.”

“Uh-huh . . .” Kenma still looked suspicious. Kuroo didn’t seem to notice, slapping Tsukkishima on the shoulder and starting to talk about the ‘good old days’. Whenever Kuroo turned to address Kenma, Kei’s eyes found yours, smiling very slightly so the other men didn’t notice. You didn’t contribute much to the conversation, quietly observing the huge man in his well-fitting tuxedo.

“Oh shit, y/n,” he said suddenly, cutting off the conversation. “I think you spilled something on your dress.” Your face flushed and eyes widened. Panicked and annoyed, you looked down at your dress. Sure enough, about halfway down the skirt, there was a patch of what thankfully looked like nothing but a spilled drink at the moment.

“God. I’m clumsy. Not surprised that I ruined my nicest dress.” You laughed it off as the three men stared at you, Tsukki with a smirk on his face.

“Oh, it doesn’t look that bad. I’m sure your dress is fine,” Kuroo said.

“Nope,” you said, glancing up at Tsukki. “Definitely ruined.”

#tsukishima smut #tsukishima x reader #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #tsukishima kei x reader #tsukki x reader #tsukishima x you

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criminalmindzjunkie · 4 years

Text

The Reward of Suffering

next chapter

Summary: A retelling of the events of season 12 episode 13.

Gif credit to the wonderful and talented @imagining-in-the-margins

A/N: After several months of contemplation, I have finally decided to post part one of my first ever fic on Tumblr! This fic will follow the event of Spencer’s prison arc, so needless to say there will be SPOILERS. This first part is super long, but I felt that it needed to be in order to set up the plot. I hope you all enjoy reading! If you would like to be tagged on future updates, let me know!

Pairing: Spencer Reid/Fem! Reader

Warnings: no smut (yet), mentions of past frug use, cursing, typical CM case talk

Word count: 12.1k

“Reid is in jail.”

I felt the color immediately drain from my face and an intense feeling of dread began to wash through my body. I sat up in my chair, back ramrod straight. I briefly looked towards the faces of my teammates, Luke and JJ to my left and Penelope to my right. Their faces were all contorted, displaying varying degrees of shock and confusion. It was hard for any of us to process what we were hearing. The idea of Spencer Reid, the same Spencer who wore a mask to the office on Halloween and put on elaborate magic shows for everyone’s children, doing anything that would warrant being put behind bars was preposterous.

Surely, this is all just a big misunderstanding.

“Jail?” Penelope squeaked out. My eyes flitted to her, taking note of the way her eyebrows were drawn together in disbelief. She was thinking the same thing I’m sure we all were; that there was no way Spencer Reid had engaged in any illegal activity. Spencer was a well-educated, highly regarded FBI agent, for Christ sake. He knew the laws of the land better than any of us.

“In Mexico.”

My attention focused solely on Emily. In the few weeks since I had come to know her, I had begun to look at her not only as a sort of fearless leader, but also as a kind of fiercely loyal friend that I was incredibly lucky to have. Emily somehow managed to find the perfect balance between being accommodating and stern. She was the kind of boss you could have a drink and cut up with after a long day, but she also carried herself in a way that demanded the utmost respect in the workplace. Emily Prentiss’s bravery was unmatched, and I admired her for that.

It shook me to my core when her eyes met mine and I saw the pure, unbridled fear in them. If Emily was scared, then this must be leagues worse than we could have ever imagined.

“What the hell is he doing down there?” JJ asked, crossing her arms and shuffling from one foot to the other.

“I don’t know. I didn’t talk to him. The call came in to Cruz from their lead investigator.”

Luke was the next to chime in. “What’s he being held for?”

“Drug possession,” Rossi said, before taking on, “with intent to distribute.”

For the second time that day, it felt like the wind had been knocked out of me. Images of Spencer sitting across from me in a dimly lit coffee shop, tripping over his words as he confided in me, spilling his deepest and darkest secrets in a voice barely above a whisper. His voice had grown stronger as he neared the end of his story and he had dug deep in his satchel, producing a small golden coin. We both had tears in our eyes as we looked at the writing engraved into the coin; unity, service recovery. Spencer Reid was ten years sober, and the pride on his face was as clear as day.

There was no way he would throw all of that away.

“What type of drugs?”

“Cocaine and heroin,” Rossi said, his voice shaky.

Rossi and Spencer had always had a good relationship. Spencer had admired his work long before he met him, having read and reread every book he had ever published. It had delighted Spencer that he and Rossi had managed to develop rapport so quickly. Rossi was the only one talented enough at the game of chess to even think of giving Spencer a run for his money, though many of us had tried. In one of many hushed conversations shared on the jet, he had once told me that he had begun to think of Rossi as somewhat of a father figure; he didn’t quite fill the role in the same way Gideon had, but Spencer was thankful just the same. One look at Rossi’s troubled expression was enough to tell me that the feelings were definitely mutual.

“Oh my God. This can’t be happening.” JJ was positively crestfallen, clutching a hand against her own chest in an attempt to ground herself. Her other hand came up to her face as she absentmindedly pushed her hair away.

“We need Lewis and Walker here, ASAP,” Emily directed her order and Penelope, who was quick to comply.

Everyone sprang into action, but I found myself unable to move, weighed down by the deeply unsettling circumstance. It felt as if I was no longer in my own body, like I was watching everything unfold from an outsider’s perspective. Maybe I am, I thought. Maybe this is all just some horrible nightmare. Any second now, my alarm will go off and this will all be over.

I waited and waited for my alarm to sound, but that never happened. Instead, Emily crouched down in front of me, grasping my arm firmly in her right hand.

“I know how devastated you must be. Trust me, I do,” she sympathized, her deep brown eyes boring into my own. “But Reid’s going to need you now more than ever. You’re his best friend and you know him better than anyone. Did he ever mention to you that he was going to Mexico?”

I shook my head numbly, my motions feeling alien and stilted.

“Never. He told me the same thing he told you; that he was going to Houston for a few days to meet with his mother’s doctor,” I whispered. I feared that if I raised my voice any higher, tears would begin to fall. Maintaining my composure was becoming harder with every passing second, and I wasn’t exactly privy to breaking down in front of my boss. “I guess I don’t know him as well as I thought.”

Emily sighed, letting go of my arm before straightening up.

“Apparently, none of us did. But I know damn well that this has to be a mistake. We’ll get him out of this.”

The apprehension in her voice told me that even she wasn’t sure we could pull this one off.

“This has got to be Scratch,” Tara stated, her voice wafting through the speakers of Luke’s laptop. Emily, Rossi, Luke and I were currently in the jet, on our way to the jail where Spencer was being held. All of us were huddled close together around the computer, listening on with eager ears. “He was laying low, and now we know why.”

“Crossing the border as a fugitive is a huge risk,” Luke pointed out.

“The reward is even greater. He’s been punishing the team, and now his target is Reid.” Emily’s voice was full of frustration and contempt.

“Peter Lewis dropped off the map after attacking Tara’s family,” Stephen chimed in. Not even his deep baritone voice could do anything to calm my frazzled nerves. “Maybe he’s been hiding in Mexico this whole time.”

“We also have to consider that it isn’t related to him,” I murmured. Several pairs of eyes locked on me, shocked. I had been uncharacteristically quiet since this whole ordeal began, limiting my responses to one word replies and hums of acknowledgement. On a normal day, I’d be throwing in my two cents any time I saw fit. Today, I was struggling just to keep breathing.

“Who else would it be?” Rossi asked.

“Drug cartels. Could’ve threatened Reid and used him as a mule.” Saying his name was painful, because it reminded me that we weren’t just talking about a victim with whom we had no personal ties; we were talking about our colleague and beloved friend.

“Agreed,” Rossi nodded. “This could simply be a case of bad luck. Reid was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

“Spencer’s mom is okay.” JJ’s announcement was like music to my ears. I let out an audible sigh of relief. “The home nurse he hired said all is stable.”

“How long did he tell the nurse he’d be gone?”

“Three days.”

“That sounds reasonable. After the Palm Springs case, Reid said he had to get back to Houston to talk to his mom’s doctor,” Emily interjected. I nodded along in agreement. He’d told me the same thing when I talked to him the night before last.

The fatigue in his voice had alerted me to the fact that things hadn’t been going so well with his mother. Her condition had been rapidly deteriorating in the recent months, prompting Spencer to make the tough decision to remove her from the assisted living facility she was at and into his own apartment. His main argument had been that no one could possibly take better care of his mother that him; that he was familiar with her condition and how best to respond when she had an episode. When I had asked him how he was handling it all, he was quick to reassure me that it was not anything he couldn’t handle.

Spencer’s loyalty ran deep; so deep that I knew he would do anything in his power to take care of Diana, but I’d never imagined that it would land him in fucking jail.

“Well, Houston is only a five-hour drive from the border,” Tara mused. “The question is, why did he go down there?”

“And why does he have narcotics?” Rossi was the first to speak on what was at the forefront of everyone’s mind.

“Yeah, exactly. He wouldn’t… He wouldn’t do that. Those drugs were planted on him,” Penelope insisted.

“Absolutely, but there’s something bigger in play. That’s why he crossed the border and kept it a secret. There’s something he didn’t want to share with any of you.”

I cringed at Stephen’s choice of wording. Spencer and I were as close as two people could be, and there was nothing I withheld from him. He knew everything about me, every dark and embarrassing thought that had ever crossed my mind; yet, he accepted me just the same. I had always assumed that it went both ways, that he was just as honest and forthcoming with me as I was with him. It hurt to know that there were things he kept from me, secrets that he felt he couldn’t trust me with.

But most of all, it absolutely gutted me to think that he was dealing with something so horrible that it landed him in jail, and he that he had to do it all alone.

“Okay, so what would make him risk everything?” Emily pondered aloud.

“His mom.” My answer was instantaneous.

A ping sounded from the other end of the video call, and we all leaning in, our interest piqued.

“Cruz just sent me the arresting report,” Penelope announced, clicking away at her computer before continuing. “It says here that Reid was involved in a high-speed chase.”

“What?” I choked out, my voice coming out several pitches higher than usual. “Spencer hardly ever drives.” I could feel my stomach begin to churn, bile threatening to force its way up my esophagus. This isn’t right, I wanted to scream. Our Spencer would never get himself involved in something that would put himself or others at risk.

“None of this sounds like him,” Penelope whispered, her thoughts mimicking my own. “It says he was wearing jeans and a baseball cap and that he was really confused. According to the arresting officer, he was really high on something.”

Unity, service, respect; ten years sober. All down the fucking drain.

I shot up from my seat, bolting down the walkway and into the bathroom. I immediately fell to my knees, barely managing to push my hair out of the way before retching into the toilet bowl. I continued like this for several minutes, only pausing momentarily when I felt large, soothing hands running up and down my back. Soft murmurings of reassurance alerted me to the fact that it was Luke who was sitting with me. I let out a strained ‘thank you’ before another wave of nausea hit me, rendering me speechless. Luke held my hair back, never once leaving my side.

When I had thrown up the entirety of my breakfast and all I could do was dry heave, I slumped back against the wall, relishing in how cool it felt against my flushed skin. A stretch of silence passed before he decided to break it.

“That was an extreme reaction,” Luke pointed out, still sitting in the floor with his legs crisscrossed. I noticed how closely he was watching me, his eyes focused on reading my expressions. He was profiling me, that much was obvious. It was an unspoken rule between us all that we would never profile one another, but any fight I had left in me had long since dissipated.

“He worked so hard to get clean, Luke. I wasn’t around when it happened, but he told me about it. He was so proud of himself,” I whispered. My throat was now raw and my voice came out more than a little bit hoarse.

Luke’s eyebrows came together, confusion clear on his face.

“Get clean? What are you talking about?”

I let out a shuddery breath. It felt wrong to divulge information on Spencer’s personal life; like I was betraying his trust. Given the circumstance, I supposed he wouldn’t mind, but it still felt treacherous and left a bad taste in my mouth. Sorry, Spence.

“Ten years ago, Reid was kidnapped by an unsub with DID. He kept him in a remote cabin for several days, alternating between beating him senseless and shooting him full of so much hydromorphone that he couldn’t remember his own name. At one point, he even,” I trailed off, hot tears spilling out of my eyes and running down my cheeks. Luke took my hand in his in an act of reassurance, his way of telling me not to rush. Luke hadn’t been with us for long, and our interactions thus far hadn’t gone much farther than conversations about work. Seeing the way he was offering himself up to me as a confidant and shoulder to cry on made me feel guilty for ever having written him off.

Thank God for Luke Alvez.

After a long pause, I managed to continue. “Spencer ended up having a seizure and he died for several minutes. The unsub’s more benevolent personality, Tobias, was able to resuscitate him. Eventually Spencer was able to take him down, but the trauma mixed with the exposure to such a highly addictive drug led to him developing a dependence on it.”

Luke swore and ran a hand through his hair.

“I never would’ve guessed it. The kid carries himself so well.”

A small, fond smile tugged at the corner of my lips.

“He’s amazing, really. He detoxed all by himself and started going to NA meetings. This past October marked ten years. We celebrated by going to one of those really fancy museums he likes and he insisted on taking the guided tour so that he could see how many errors the guide would make,” I let out a light laugh at the memory. “Every time they’d get something wrong, he’d lean down whisper the correct information so that only I could hear it. I don’t think I’d ever seen him that happy,” I reminisced, allowing myself to forget about the current situation for the tiniest of moments. I wondered if I’d ever get to experience a day like that with Spencer ever again.

“You two are close, I take it?”

I nodded. Luke had fit in with the group so seamlessly that I had forgotten that he had only been with us for a short time. He didn’t really know the dynamics of everything yet.

“He’s my best friend.”

Luke hummed, and I could feel his eyes looking at me inquisitively.

“And that boyfriend of yours, he doesn’t mind?” Okay, maybe Luke was a little bit more perceptive than he let on.

Gavin and I had begun dating at the end of my first year with the BAU. He and I had meet in the most cliché of ways; bumping into each other in the cereal aisle at the grocery store. Gavin was more than a little bit handsome, but what had reeled me in had been the way he taken one look at the box of cereal in my cart and immediately scrunched his nose up in disgust.

“Plain Cheerios? Are you some sort of masochist, or something?” he had asked, a playful lilt to his voice. Normally, if a strange man had approached me in public, I would’ve been quick to express my disinterest. If my job had taught me anything, it was that a woman being approached by a strange man was a recipe for trouble. But something about him seemed wholly unthreatening, and I couldn’t help but laugh at his forwardness, raising an eyebrow at him.

“As if your choice is any better. Lucky Charms? What are you, six?”

“Don’t even go there. Lucky Charms are magically delicious, thank you very much,” he sniffed, feigning superiority. “And if we’re touching on the subject of age, the only person I know that eats plain Cheerios is my eighty-six-year-old grandmother. You look a bit young to be worrying about heart health, and I refuse to believe that you actually enjoy the taste, so what gives?”

“First of all, I find it concerning that you are so familiar with cereal slogans,” I breezed, leaning against my shopping cart. “Second, I am curious; do you make it a habit to harass people about their cereal preferences?”

“Only if they’re cute.”

And that had been that. Several dates later he had asked me to be his girlfriend over a dinner he had attempted to make himself. I said yes and he kissed me, nearly knocking over his plate of burnt chicken parmesan in the process.

“We, uh, have an understanding. He knows that Spencer and I are just good friends.”

Gavin and I did have an understanding, but it wasn’t a very solid one. In fact, I was sure that he damn near despised Spencer’s very existence. He had done a good job at hiding it for a while, but after coming home one night from an impromptu movie night with Spencer, he had revealed to me that he had a jealous streak a mile long. I reassured him that there was absolutely nothing that he needed to worry about, but I could tell he didn’t believe a word of it. Gavin had out flat demanded that I cut all ties with Spencer, and I had laughed in his face.

“I’m not the kind of girl that likes to be told what to do. Either you learn to live with him being a part of my life, or you can find someone else to boss around, because I can tell you right now, that won’t fly with me.”

My threat had proven to be effective, and he had apologized, and that had been the end of that. He still wasn’t fond of the idea that Spencer and I were such close friends, but he hadn’t tried to proposition me with any more ridiculous ultimatums.

“That’s good to hear,” Luke hummed, squeezing my hand before rising to his feet. I could tell that he didn’t necessarily buy into what I was saying, but I was thankful that he didn’t press it any further. “What do you say we go back out there. We’ve got to be getting close by now.”

I nodded and he helped me to my feet. I bent down to the faucet, swishing some water in my mouth before spitting it out.

When Luke and I returned to our seats, I was immediately aware of the way Rossi and Emily were eyeing me; like I was a delicate thing that needed to be handled with kid gloves.

I absolutely hated it.

“Sorry about that. It won’t happen again,” I said, before turning my attention back to the video call and saying, “so, what did we miss?”

The police station was surprisingly small. The hallways were narrow and the light bulbs above me gave off an almost green tint, casting an eerie glow on the place. The sounds of disgruntled detainees calling out drifted through the hallways, sounding akin to the moaning of a ghost. My eyes darted around constantly as we walked, the uneasy feeling in my stomach growing with every step we took towards the heart of the precinct.

“Thank you for calling us.” Emily’s words were directed at the police officer, Chief Castenada, who was leading us down the hall. He was a short man with graying hair and a seemingly permanent frown etched into his face. It didn’t take a genius to deduce that he wasn’t happy that four federal agents were in his jail.

“A U.S. fed in our custody isn’t something we see every day,” the man said, his tone entirely unfriendly. I grimaced.

“Have you gotten any of his tox screen panels back yet?” I prodded, quickening the pace of my strides until I was walking alongside him. He looked down at me like I was a pesky gnat that he wanted to bat away.

“No.”

Color me unsurprised.

“You’ll need to expedite that. We have cause to believe that Doctor Reid was drugged.”

“He was definitely high and driving like a bat out of Hell. Not to mention he had $20,000 worth of heroin in his possession,” he sneered, ceasing to walk and staring down at me with distaste. “Both of which put my officers at risk. You’re in our jurisdiction. Don’t forget that. The rules are different here.”

I opened my mouth, ready to fire back with some smart-assery of my own, but a hand at my elbow stopped me. I turned and saw that it was Luke, who nodded his head to the left of us. I looked in the direction he was referring to, and I felt my heart shatter into a million pieces.

Just up ahead was a holding cell with several poorly constructed benches in the center of it. On the very first row of seats sat Spencer, who had seemingly retreated in to himself. He was hunched over, his arms wrapped pitifully around himself, much like you’d imagine a child might do to keep warm. Spencer’s clothes were tattered and dirty and a bandage adorned his right hand. His usually beautiful chestnut curls were flying around his head in a mess of tangles and dirt. Despite the fact that Spencer towered over most of us, I couldn’t help but notice how incredibly small he looked.

Even as awful as he looked in his current state, a direct contradiction of the way he usually presented himself, I’d never been happier to lay my eyes on someone in my life.

My feet carried me forward before my brain had time to catch up. I closed the distance between me and the cell, pausing and taking a good, long look at him before allowing myself to speak. He hadn’t noticed me standing there yet. His gaze was instead trained on something at the other end of the room, his eyes red rimmed and glassy and his face completely slack.

“Spence?” I called out, the nickname falling from my lips like a prayer. In a way I suppose it was; a prayer that he was alright, that the horrible things Penelope had told us about were nothing but a horrible lie. At first, I was worried that he hadn’t heard me or that he was too out of his mind to even register the sound of my voice. Just when I opened my mouth to speak again, he turned his head in way that I would have described as comically slow if the situation hadn’t been so serious. The spacey look in his eyes told me that my prayers wouldn’t be answered.

Spencer’s eyes locked with mine, but his face remained completely blank, devoid of all expression. I stood there for a moment, dumbfounded, until it hit me like a ton of bricks; he had no clue who I was.

I wanted to be mad. I wanted to scream at him, to ask him how could he forget me, of all people. My anger was irrational and unfair, but I couldn’t help it. While I understood that it was no fault of his own, that the drugs coursing through his veins were to blame, it didn’t make it hurt any less.

I swallowed down the emotions that threatened to spill out, pushing them down into the depths of my being. I couldn’t let my emotional attachment hinder my judgment. I needed to be as vigilant as ever, no, more vigilant. The fate of my favorite person in the whole world depended on it.

“It’s me, Y/N,” I explained, keeping my voice as steady as I could manage. “It’s good to see you, Spencer. You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

He watched me for a moment before standing and making his way to where I was leaning against the bars.

“Y/N,” Spencer murmured when he reached me, as if testing my name out to see how it rolled off of his tongue. His stare was still vacant, but having him in front of me after worrying about his wellbeing for the last five hours was more than enough for now. I’d take him however I could have him. “Thank you for coming.”

“Of course, we came,” I murmured, my eyes raking over every inch of his body for any signs of distress. Other than the bandage on his hand, he seemed to be in one piece.

Rossi was quick to join me, coming to a stop at my left.

“We’re going to get you out of here, kid,” he reassured, his tone more serious than I’d ever heard it.

“We need to work out some details with the locals, okay?” Emily said, waiting for a response but getting none.

“Who was your contact down here?” Luke asked.

Spencer was quicker to respond this time.

“Rosa,” he mumbled as he grabbed his shirt sleeve and pulled it up. On his inner arm, the name Rosa Medina was written in what was undoubtably his own handwriting. Spencer was notorious around the office for having the worst handwriting. I like to blame it on the fact that he was a doctor, which always elicited a laugh from him. “I think she’s a doctor.”

Luke pulled his phone out from his pocket, snapping a picture of the name.

“Where did you meet her?”

Spencer shook his head and a frown pulled down at the corner of his lips.

“I… I don’t remember.”

“If you saw her, would you remember her?”

Spencer nodded in affirmation.

“You’re missing time, aren’t you?” I asked, causing him to look at me once more. His brows furrowed together and he was nodding again, slightly surer of himself this time.

“It’s peeking out. It’s coming in flashes.”

“And you’ve been drugged?”

I didn’t know it was possible for his face to fall any more, but the look of shame that manifested itself when he registered my words was absolutely heartbreaking.

“Yeah, but I didn’t take it myself,” he insisted, a spark of life burning bright in the depths of his eyes. Somewhere in there, under the haze of narcotics, was the same Spencer that had fought tooth and nail for his sobriety all those years ago. My heart broke for him.

“Of course, you didn’t, Spence. We know that,” I said, almost reaching out to touch him before thinking better of it. “We’re thinking it might be Scratch.”

Just like before, when I had first spoken to him, absolutely no sign of recognition showed itself on his face.

“Scratch,” he muttered detachedly, much the same as before.

Luke’s phone rang then and he excused himself for a moment before stepping away. I looked to Rossi and Emily, who seemed to also be at a loss for words. The silence that filled the room was excruciating, and I once again started to feel like the walls were closing in on me. I wanted nothing more than to scream, to cry out in frustration. The whole situation was unfair in a way that I didn’t think was possible. I was a big believer in karma; put good in and get good out, or something like that. But now, standing outside of a holding cell that looked more like a dungeon than anything, I was ready to throw away that belief entirely.

Of all the people that I know, Spencer was the least deserving of something like this.

Just when I began to consider ducking outside for a breath of fresh air, Luke returned.

“Hey, the team sent this. Is this the doctor you met?” he asked, pointing to a picture of a woman he had pulled up on his phone. The woman was of Mexican descent, with short, choppy gray hair. She appeared to be middle aged, from what I could guess.

Spencer stared at the picture before nodding.

“Her alias is Rosa Medina and her real name is Nadi Ramos. Garcia tracked her to a motel just outside of town. Does that sound familiar?”

Spencer’s brows furrowed and his shoulders slumped in defeat.

“No.”

“Okay, we’ll need to take Castenada and his officers with us,” Emily announced, before turning and heading towards the door.

“Do you want company here?” Rossi asked.

Spencer seemed to take a moment to process before answering with an almost imperceptible nod. He turned his head and focused his gaze on me.

“Can… Can you stay?”

Rossi turned to face me too, raising an eyebrow as if to say ‘are you okay with this?’ I gave him what I hoped was a convincing smile. Honestly, I wasn’t entirely sure that I could handle this; the this that I am referring to being a nearly catatonic Spencer Reid. I was used to the Spencer who regaled me with interesting tidbits of information whenever there was a lull in conversation. The Spencer that stood before me now was a shell of his former self, and that terrified me.

“I’ll be fine here. Let me know if you guys find anything,” I told Rossi. He nodded once to me before enveloping me in a tight hug.

“Resta forte mia piccolo colomba,” Rossi murmured in my ear. I hadn’t a clue what the phrase meant, but the words draped over me like a warm blanket. Suddenly the weight of the current situation didn’t seem so heavy, and I felt immensely thankful that a man like David Rossi was in my life.

Rossi pressed his lips to the top of my head before releasing me. He gave one last, despairing look to Spencer before hurrying off after Luke and Emily. It could’ve been the light playing tricks on me, or maybe the exhaustion, but when Rossi turned away from us, I swear I saw tears welling in his eyes.

And then there were two.

I took glance at my watch for the first time all day, cringing when I saw the time to be 8:17PM. Quantico was an hour ahead, meaning Gavin was probably losing his shit wondering where I was. I sighed, fishing my phone out of my back pocket and turning it on.

“Spence, I’m going to make a phone call really quick,” I murmured. He offered no reply, just as I had come to expect. He was watching me, standing stock still in the same place he had been the entire time. I moved to stand in the doorway, hopefully far enough away that he couldn’t hear me anymore.

As soon as my phone booted up, a plethora of notifications came through. Seventeen missed calls and twenty-four unread text messages, to be exact. I decided to forgo reading the messages, instead pressing the return call button and tapping my foot anxiously against the floor. Gavin didn’t keep me waiting long, picking up on the very first ring.

“About time you answer your goddamn phone,” he hissed out. “Do you know how worried I’ve been? I even called your office phone and no one would answer that, either. What the fuck is going on? Where are you?”

“I’m… In Mexico.”

A long pause followed and I held my breath, waiting for the onslaught to begin.

“You left the country without even bothering to tell me?” Gavin asked, his voice raising in volume. I could picture him now; probably sitting on our sofa, fists balled together and jaw clenched. “Would you like to enlighten me as to why you’re in Mexico?”

I closed my eyes, frustration bubbling deep inside me. Today was arguably the shittiest day of my entire life, and I certainly didn’t need Gavin harping on about how I hadn’t been in touch. Honestly, informing him of my whereabouts had been the furthest thing from my mind.

“It’s Spencer,” I began, trying to think of the proper way to word it all. “He got into some… trouble. We think he’s being framed by Scratch.”

“Isn’t that the guy that just went after Tara’s family?”

“Yeah, it is. He’s been laying low for the past few months, and I guess he was just building up to all of this. It’s really bad, Gav,” I whispered the last bit, hoping that Spencer couldn’t hear me. If he did, he made no move that indicated it. “He’s high out of his mind and can’t remember anything.”

“How long will you guys be there?” Gavin asked, completely ignoring the fact that I mentioned Spencer at all. I bit down on my bottom lip to keep from saying something I might regret. I understand that he doesn’t like the guy, but he could show some common decency and at least pretend.

“I’m not entirely sure. Rossi, Emily, and Luke just headed out to go check on a lead. I don’t know how long that’ll take.”

“Wait, so, where are you?”

“I’m at the jail with Spencer, why?” I inquired, running my hand through my hair and absentmindedly combing out the knots that had formed. I was sure that I looked a right mess, but I couldn’t be too bothered to care.

“Let me get this straight. They left you alone with a guy who is wasted on God knows what, not knowing how he’ll react to it?” A bitter laugh flowed through the phone speaker. “Sounds like you don’t exactly work with the smartest bunch. What if he tries to attack you or something?”

I let his words hang in the air for a moment, unable to formulate a reply that wasn’t something like you’re being an absolute fucking dick bag right now. No, I was a grown woman and I was going to communicate like one, despite the fact that his ignorant reply was making me shake with rage.

“The first thing I’m going to address is the fact that this is not some guy. We’re talking about my best friend and teammate, and his name is Spencer. Use it,” I said through gritted teeth. “The second thing is that he’s not some wild animal. He’s not going to try to come through the bars and pounce on me. What he’s going through right now is traumatic, and he doesn’t need to be left alone right now. Show some compassion.”

“Yeah, okay, I’m sorry,” Gavin muttered. It was the most unapologetic apology I’d ever heard in my life, prompting me to roll my eyes. I don’t understand how I can love someone and want to throttle them simultaneously. “I’m just worried about you, is all. How are you holding up?”

“I’m as good as can be expected,” I sighed, bringing my free hand up to rub at my eyes. “I’m just tired of watching this guy terrorize all of my friends. First, he takes Hotch from us, then he nearly kills Tara’s brother, and now this. I’m beginning to think we’ll never catch a break.”

“I know you’re tired, baby. Just try to hang on a little bit longer. As much as I question some of their decisions, your team is good at what they do. You guys will catch him. I have faith in you.”

There it is. That’s the Gavin that I fell in love with.

“Thank you,” I murmured. “It’s been a long day and I needed to hear that.” I cast a glance back at Spencer, who was now staring down at his bandaged hand, an indiscernible expression on his face. He looked so lost, standing all alone in the grimy holding cell. The lights cast shadows on his face, making his already angular face look gaunt. The Spencer I knew was the human embodiment of light; filling up every room he was in with his delightfully idiosyncratic presence. The Spencer in the cell was so shrouded in darkness that the room seemed to be swallowing him whole, taking his brilliance and crushing it into smithereens.

“Gav, I think I need to get back in there.”

“Yeah, alright. Just keep me in the loop this time, please. I don’t like not knowing where my girlfriend is.”

“I’ll make sure to check in whenever I can,” I promised, before tacking on a, “love you.”

“Love you, too.”

I pocketed my phone with hands that shook, no longer from rage but from apprehension. I liked to think that I was good at my job. I had done well at the academy; not well enough to have graduated at the top of my class, but I did manage to be in the top ten. After lucking into the job of a lifetime, I had fully committed myself to learning to be the best profiler I could possibly be. Two years of piecing together the innerworkings of criminal minds had taught me more than I ever could have imagined about the human psyche. I had talked many a deranged psychopath down from the ledge, and I had saved more than a few lives along the way. Unfortunately, not all cases can end favorably. Those are the ones that taught me the most.

For all that I learned, nothing could’ve prepared me to deal with the shell of a man that stood before me.

I was standing in front of him now, fiddling nervously with my hands. When Spencer had originally told me about his battle with addiction, I had taken it upon myself to do some research of my own. I wanted to be able to identify the signs, God forbid he ever relapse. While conducting my research, I had read somewhere that the best way to support someone during a come down is by remaining positive and creating a calm, safe environment.

I was currently the antithesis of calm, but for Spencer’s sake, I was going to do my best.

I took a step forward and offered him a small smile.

“I’ve never seen you in jeans and boots before,” I said. I was proud of myself when the words came out sounding relatively casual. “It’s a good look on you, but I have to admit I prefer the academic look. I suppose it’s the sapiosexual in me.”

He gave no response, but the tinniest tug at the corner of his mouth told me that he found my comment amusing.

I let my eyes drag over him again and I fixated on the bandage on his right hand, frowning.

“Do you remember what happened to your hand?”

Spencer raised his hand up, absentmindedly flipping it over and inspecting it.

“I don’t know,” he murmured. Spencer’s usually high pitched voice came out gravely, no doubt a byproduct of dehydration related to the drugs. My eyes skimmed across the holding cell and I frowned when I saw no water fountain in sight.

“M’ gonna go get you some water, okay?” I turned away and pivoted on my heel, taking one step before a hand wrapped around my upper arm. I spun around so fast I nearly caught whiplash.

Spencer’s eyes were wide and full of panic, conveying more emotion than he’d had since we’d arrived. His eyebrows were drawn together as well, contorting his face into a pitiful expression.

“Don’t go,” he rasped, his hand still firmly grasping my arm. “Please.”

The hopelessness in his voice was like a dagger through my heart. I nodded fervently and placed my hand over his, prompting him to loosen his grip. He did, and I took his hand in both of mine. I rubbed my thumbs over his skin, haphazardly tracing patterns in an attempt to calm him.

“Yeah, okay. I’m not going anywhere, I promise,” I soothed, bringing his hand up to my mouth and placing a chaste kiss to the skin. “I’ve got you, Spence. It’s all going to be okay.”

The look of panic slowly washed away the longer we stood there. He held onto my hands like I was a lifeline, the only thing tethering him to the ground. While I longed for nothing more than to really embrace him, to pull all of him into my arms and hold on for dear life, the bars that separated us inhibited me from doing so. So instead I just relished in the feel of his hand intertwined with my own.

It would have to be enough for now.

Nadi Ramos was dead.

I didn’t have to ask Emily to know that the situation had gone from bad to absolutely fucking terrible. We knew Scratch was a horrendous individual; that much had been proved by his preferred modus operandi. We also knew that he had become fixated on taking down each of us one by one. He’d tried twice with Hotch, even going as far as to target his son, resulting in the two of them joining WITSEC for their own safety. The next blow had come when he had set his sights on Tara, or, more specifically, her brother. We’d gotten lucky with that one, having located and freed her brother just in the nick of time. After the incident with Tara’s brother, we all expected the next attack to come in quick succession. When several months passed with no sign of Scratch, we all became terribly on edge. No one was saying it, but we all were waiting to see which one of us would be next, crossing our fingers and hoping it wouldn’t be us.

I knew that none of us were exempt from Scratch’s wrath, but for some reason, I’d never imagined him targeting Spencer.

And target him he fucking did.

“We know you didn’t do this,” Emily spoke for the group, knowing good and well that we were all on the same page.

“How did it happen?” Spencer’s back was to us. His shoulders were slumped and his face downturned.

“She was stabbed multiple times. It looked personal,” Luke answered, his voice low and careful. It was obvious to us all that he was being extra careful with his wording, making sure to broach the subject carefully. We all knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that Spencer was innocent; but that didn’t mean that Spencer did.

Chief Castenada trudged into the holding cell, the portrait of all things cranky and unpleasant. His presence acted as a proverbial storm cloud on an already shitty day.

“We got the results of your blood work. There’s cocaine and heroin in your system.”

“What else?” Emily asked, causing Castenada to give her a confused look.

“He was in possession of cocaine and heroin when he was arrested. I found what I needed.”

I felt myself bristle and before I knew it, my mouth was open and I was spouting out pure venom.

“Thanks so much for doing the bare minimum, but we’re going to need a full tox screen panel. We’re looking for scopolamine.”

Emily’s eyes cut over to me and if I hadn’t been fighting on Spencer’s behalf, I would’ve withered under the weight of the shut the fuck up look she gave me. Instead, I continued on, silently praying I’d still have a job after today.

“It’ll take longer, but we need it,” I explained in what I hoped was a slightly more accommodating tone. Castenada gave a curt nod in reply before exiting the room, grumbling something in Spanish that had Luke and Emily shooting daggers at his retreating figure.

“Do I want to know?”

Luke shook his head, shooting a small smile in my direction.

“Let’s just say he’s not your biggest fan, and we’ll leave it at that,” he offered, before straightening out his expression and turning back to Spencer. “You were given a speed ball. The opiates block the dopamine in your brain. That’s why things go from clear to hazy. The combination of the drugs causes a dissociative state and explains the memory loss. Are you coming down now?”

“I think so,” Spencer said. His cadence wasn’t as slow as it had been earlier, which was a relief.

“Do you think you could do a cognitive interview?” Emily’s voice was hopeful, and if Spencer was one thing, it was a people pleaser. It was obvious that he was overwhelmed; I had taken note of the fact that he was displaying one of his nervous ticks. Spencer was touching the pad of his thumb on the tips of his other fingers in rapid succession. Despite his obvious discomfort, he nodded his head in agreeance.

“I’ll try.”

Rossi took the lull in conversation as an opportunity to hold up the plastic bag in his hand. I narrowed my eyes at it inquisitively. There were five vials of a murky, dark brown liquid in the bag.

“There were five of these in your bag at the motel. Do you recognize them?”

Spencer’s eyes zeroed in on the bag and its contents, his brows furrowing. It wasn’t long until a look of partial recognition flashed across his face. It was so faint that if he hadn’t been in a room of profilers, it would’ve gone unnoticed.

“What is it?” I asked from my place at his side. He’d been somewhat clingy since the incident that had transpired while everyone was at the motel, gravitating towards me as soon as we all had been granted entrance to the holding cell. I knew that he needed familiarity right now; he was in a very vulnerable state and he needed something that made him feel safe and secure.

Butterflies erupted in my stomach when I had realized what he was doing, that I was that thing that made him feel safe and secure.

Spencer opened his mouth once before closing it, as if trying to put his thoughts into words was difficult. He did this a few more times before settling on,

“Whatever’s in those vials, I was giving it to my mom,” he said, his eyes darting around the room as he spoke. “That’s the only thing I’m sure of.”

“I’ll have them run it through the lab,” Rossi said, before leaving and heading towards the direction in which Castenada had retreated.

Emily and Luke were quick to hop into a rushed conversation, leaving only Spencer and I still in the cell. I looked up at him, at the way his forehead creased as he bit his lip in quiet contemplation.

“Are you sure you’re ready for a cognitive? I know the effects may be wearing off, but you’re gonna be cloudy for a while. If you don’t want to do it now, all you have to do is say the word,” I murmured, keeping my voice low so that only he could hear it. “I can tell that you’re a bit overwhelmed, and that’s okay.”

Spencer’s response came in the form of a shrug of his shoulders.

“I want to try, because I know it’s important. I just don’t know that it will be of much help,” he replied, casting his eyes down to me.

“Yes, it is important, but don’t put too much pressure on yourself. We’ll figure this out even if you can’t remember it all right now.”

Spencer nodded once before running his tongue across his chapped bottom lip.

“I don’t remember what happened, but I know I didn’t kill her,” he whispered, barely audible. Even though his words were quiet, I could hear the desperation in them; almost as if he was begging me to believe them, begging himself to believe them.

I made the irrational decision then to throw professionalism aside and wrap both of my arms around his torso, my grip tight and assured. Spencer’s aversion to touch was common knowledge amongst us all, but for some reason that never seemed to apply to me, and I could see in his eyes that the way we were all treating him like he was fragile was wounding him more than he would ever admit. I hoped to remedy that with my embrace, and the speed in which he reciprocated was so fast that I was certain he was thankful. He wrapped his injured hand around my waist, the other finding purchase in my hair. I felt his chest move as he let out a shuddering breath.

“I know you didn’t, Spence. Everyone on the team knows you didn’t,” I reassured him, my words muffled as my face was pressed against his chest. “And we’re not going to stop until everyone else knows it, too.”

I was well aware that our embrace had garnered the attention of our teammates, but Spencer’s hold on me hadn’t faltered in the slightest, so I didn’t let mine either. Instead, I gripped the fabric of his flannel shirt tighter in my hands.

When Emily exited the room in which they had conducted the cognitive interview, the look on her face was grim. I visibly cringed at the sight as I felt the sliver of hope that I had left die a miserable death.

We are so beyond fucked.

“How’s he doing?” Rossi asked, obviously taking note of the distress on Emily’s face.

“He’s made some breakthroughs, but I’m not sure how helpful they’ll be,” she sighed, running a hand through her jet-black hair. When none of us spoke, Emily’s eyes flitted around, finally noticing that our expressions were a direct reflection of her own. “What is it?”

“They just charged Reid with the murder of Nadi Ramos.”

Hearing it said aloud wasn’t any easier the second time.

While the rest of us had taken it upon ourselves to lean against the cement walls, Luke had begun pacing down the short hallway. After about ten minutes of unbearable silence, he decided he’d had enough.

“We can’t get him out of here, can we?” he finally spoke, his voice a mix of anger and desperation.

“I don’t know how.”

“He didn’t kill her,” I reiterated, speaking more to myself than the three of them.

“If all I had to go on was the evidence, I would swear he did,” Rossi sighed. I knew he was right; Spencer’s personal belongings were all over the hotel room, which was about as incriminating as you could get. “But knowing Reid, hearing the cognitive…”

“Yes, he said there was another person in that motel room, but,” Emily pressed play on the audio recording, and her voice proceeded to flow through the speakers.

“Who has the knife? Who is stabbing Rosa?”

“I don’t know. It’s in my hand.”

Emily pressed the power button and the screen went black.

“Right now, this is just more evidence against him.”

“So, what do we do now? Do we just sit and twiddle our thumbs until the consulate agrees to the extradition?” I asked. “There’s got to be more we can do. We can’t let them take him to jail, he won’t survive in there.”

“I called in some help from IRT. Clara Seger and Matt Simmons will be arriving at any moment,” Emily said, checking her phone after hearing it ping. “In fact, that would be them. They’re here.”

I breathed a sigh of relief as we all fell into step beside Emily. Having people from other areas of expertise that are willing to help is a good thing. Maybe they’ll be able to see something that we didn’t.

“We come bearing good news,” I announced, leading the group as we all entered the holding cell. Spencer was quick to turn around and the corners of his lips pulled upwards as he set his sights on all of us. “Back up is here.”

“Hey Spencer,” Matt greeted, offering up a small smile before crossing his arms across his chest.

“Hey,” Spencer replied, moving to stand up from his spot on the bench. He was still a little wobbly on his feet, but he was doing much better than he was when we had arrived. “Thank you for coming.”

“Yeah, of course. Jack and me are finishing up a case in Costa Rica, so we hopped on a commercial plane to get here,” Clara explained.

“We’re trying to stop you transfer to El Diablo.”

Spencer’s eyes darted over to me and he swallowed hard before speaking.

“Do you think it’s possible?” Hearing the hope in his voice tugged at my heart strings. The way that he could manage to stay optimistic at time like this was a true testament to his character.

“Yes,” Clara began. “Lab reports on the vials came back and some of what was in there hasn’t been approved by the FDA, but there aren’t any illegal substances.”

“That’s great news,” I sighed, letting out the breath that I didn’t know I had been holding.

“Is there anything else you remember about your time here?”

“I remember what happened to the vials at home. My mom threw most of them out.”

“So, that’s why you were here. To get more,” Clara said in an attempt to clarify.

“It must be,” Spencer murmured, shuffling anxiously from one foot to the other.

“Well, you’re off the hook for that. There’s no contraband involved,” Matt announced. Okay, this is good. One less thing to worry about.

“Yeah, but we’re still looking at the planted drug and the murder charges, which could keep you here for a long time.”

“Can we do anything to delay the transfer?” I wondered aloud. Clara took into account what I said and sighed, before turning towards Spencer once again.

“You said that you met Nadi, who calls herself Rosa, in Houston. Why didn’t she just give you the vials in the U.S.?”

“I don’t know,” Spencer said, running his uninjured hand through his hair. “I don’t know, but she helped us and I trusted her. I was right to. I still believe that.”

“Well, she convinced you to cross the border multiple times. She had you risk your life,” Matt argued.

“Because she must have something to lose, too,” I mumbled, eliciting a series of fervent nods from Clara. “Family, maybe?”

“We need to know more about her,” Clara said.

And then, something glorious happened. It was like a switch had flipped inside of Spencer’s head, and all of the sudden the lights were back on. I could tell that he had been struck with an idea, and it was a wonderous sight to behold.

“What was in those vials?” Spencer asked, only solidifying my observation.

Matt produced a paper with the lab results and began reading off the results.

“There are so nootropic compounds like Ampalex, uh, but also some more natural stuff; coral calcium, jimson weed, coconut oil, a variety of vitamins. B12, D3-”

“Where are we right now?” Spencer interjected.

“Matamoros, Northern Mexico.”

“Jimson weed, otherwise known as the Devil’s Snare, originated in Mexico but its natural growing region is further north or south of the border,” Spencer said, his words flowing out rapidly. I felt my heart soar and I didn’t even try to suppress the smile that fought its way to my face.

“Boy Genius is back,” I announced, and for just a moment, the mood in the room lightened for the first time all day.

“So, if it isn’t from here, then were did she get it?” Clara asked.

“Let me get Garcia on,” Emily murmured, dialing the number and tapping her foot as it rang. On the third ring, Penelope’s bright and cheerful voice filled the room, a sunbeam shining through on a cloudy day.

“Please tell me you’re calling to tell me some good news.”

“Garcia, I have some questions for you.”

“Hey, Penelope,” Matt greeted, earning a pleasantly surprised gasp from the woman on the other end.

“Oh my God, it’s the dulcet tones of Matt Simmons,” Penelope gushed. “Are you there to save the day?”

“I’m trying. Clara’s here, too.” A relieved sigh floated through the speakers.

“Knowing we have you guys as backup is providing me some much-needed hope, and I work better this way.”

“Hey, lady,” Clara greeted. “We’re trying to catch up on a few things. Where is Nadi Ramos from?” Before Clara even managed to finish her sentence, the sound of Garcia’s acrylic nails tapping away at her keyboard could be heard.

“Mm she lives with her family just north of Matamoros.”

“That must be where she got the jimson weed,” Emily pointed out.

“What’s weird in she crosses the border, like, a lot.”

“Why?”

“Well, she works in Houston at that clinic, but she also helps at a low-income healthcare center. I can’t find a visa on her, which is double weird. And, in finishing the weird trifecta, there’s a social security number on her W2 form.”

“Social security? She’s an American citizen?” I asked. Matt confirmed my suspicions with a nod of his head.

“Yeah, she had dual citizenship. She was born in Houston, and her family had to move back to Mexico. She lives with them and she works in the U.S.”

“This changes everything. We need to talk to the consulate,” Emily stated.

Just as things were beginning to look up, Chief Castenada decided to grace us with his presence once more; and this time, he had an entourage.

“It’s time for his transfer,” Castenada announced, looking pointedly in my direction.

“We’ve had a break in the case,” Emily argued, shaking her head at him. “The victim was also American, and that calls for extradition.”

Castenada merely shrugged before walking past us all.

“I’ve got orders, sorry,” he muttered, making Gavin’s apology from earlier in the day sound heartfelt in comparison. Castenada wasted no time in beginning to place handcuffs on Spencer, locking them in place with a definitive click. Spencer and I shared a look of panic before both of us looked towards Emily in a silent plea.

One of the men roughly grabbed Spencer by the arm and led him from the room. I watched in horror as they led him away, my heart threatening to beat out of my chest. I barely registered the fact that Emily was now on the phone. I just stood there, staring blankly at the entrance to the cell.

“With the victim having dual citizenship, we now have concurrent jurisdiction. It was my understanding that the official order to extradite SSA Spencer Reid would be evaluated,” Emily damn near snarled into the phone. She paused for a moment, listening to the voice on the other line, before a look of relief washed over her face. “I understand, thank you.” She promptly hung up the phone before turning to face Luke. “They’re taking it to their brass. Go get him.”

Luke took off in a rush, not needing to be told twice.

I only wished I could be there to see the look on Castenada’s face.

“We’re working on all channels here. Matt Cruz is on with the consulate right now. We could get an immediate extradition, but it’s just the beginning,” Emily explained, her voice stern.

Spencer regarded her with a weary expression. The drug induced haze had finally lifted, leaving him painfully aware of how dire the situation was.

“I really screwed up and I’m so sorry,” he choked out, resulting in a crack forming in Emily’s hard exterior. I couldn’t blame her; it wasn’t easy to stay mad at Spencer Reid. Spencer’s eyes were like kryptonite to most; big and brown and full of emotion. I’m sure if you searched ‘puppy dog eyes’ in the dictionary, a picture of Spencer Reid would be found in example.

“It was for the right reason.”

“I can’t remember what happened, but I know I didn’t kill anyone.” It was obvious in the way that he kept repeating the words that he was desperate for us to believe him. No amount of calm reassurance from us could quell the voice in his head that was surely telling him that we thought him guilty.

“We do, too.”

Clara was first to enter the cell, immediately followed by Matt.

“Hey, they approved the extradition,” Clara announced, smiling brightly at the three of us.

“Effective immediately,” Matt added on.

We all exchanged relieved smiles before Matt and Clara led Spencer from the cell. Emily and I were quick to follow, right on Matt’s heels when we were stopped by Castenada.

“I must point out that I feel like justice isn’t exactly being served with this move.”

I pursed my lips together. In the short time we had been in Mexico, my feelings towards the man had grown from distaste to almost a full-blown hatred. That being said, I couldn’t help but understand where he was coming from. If Spencer hadn’t been a federal agent, he wouldn’t be granted the privilege of the extradition. Nor would he be allowed to fly home with us. I hated to admit it, but Castenada made a valid point.

“I understand, but I can assure you that this has gone to the highest ranks and there will be a full investigation,” Emily reassured him.

“Thank you for working with us,” I offered in an attempt to smooth over the rift I had created earlier. Now that my judgement wasn’t so clouded by my need to defend Spencer, I could see the error of my ways. I hadn’t been the most professional.

Castenada nodded once in my direction before turning his attention back to Emily.

“For our reports, I would like to have the recording of that cognitive interview.”

I felt my blood run cold. That interview would just add to the list of things that could be used against Spencer in court. He had openly admitted to holding the murder weapon in his own hands, an admission that would surely earn him twenty to life.

We cannot give him that recording.

Emily seemed to be on the same page as I was.

“I didn’t record it.”

Castenada’s face contorted into an ugly frown.

“But that was our agreement,” he squawked angrily.

“I determined he was still under the influence. Anything he said wouldn’t have clarified matters.”

Castenada’s gaze never faltered, eyeing Emily in an attempt to discern if she was giving him the run around. Luckily, Castenada was unable to find a hint of dishonesty on Emily’s face, and he nodded in resignation.

Years of profiling will teach you how to control your micro expressions.

“You’re committed agents. And I’ve worked with the IRT before. I trust you know what you’re doing.”

“We do. I promise,” I stated, my voice giving off more confidence than I felt. Yes, I thought to myself, there’s no doubt that we’re good at what we do.

But so is Scratch.

All was quiet on the jet, the steady thrum of the engine being the only sound that could be heard. Rossi had been the only one able to fall asleep, something that I would be sure to tease him about later. Next to Rossi sat Emily, who had busied herself with flipping through Spencer’s arresting report. Clara and Matt sat across from them, engulfed in their own hushed conversation.

Spencer had opted to sit on the couch, but he didn’t allow himself to sprawl out like he normally would have done. He was visibly exhausted, wiping at his eyes frequently in an attempt to keep the fatigue at bay. It was almost like he was punishing himself; like he didn’t feel he deserved the solace that sleep would bring.

“You should go talk to him. See if you can’t get him to lay down,” Luke whispered encouragingly from his seat beside mine.

“I have no idea what to say to him,” I confessed. I tore my gaze away from Spencer and turned my attention to Luke. “There’s nothing I can say that will make this any better.”

“You’re not wrong about that, but maybe just letting him know you’re here for him will help. Just go and sit with him, I’m sure he could use a friend right now.”

Luke was right. I let out a dramatic sigh before shooting Luke a pointed look.

“Since when did you get so insightful?”

A grin stretched its way across his face.

“Always have been, sweetness. It’s part of my charm. I’m more than just a pretty face, you know.”

“And on that note, I’ll be going,” I announced, standing up from my seat and walking the short distance to the couch. Luke’s chuckles sounded off behind me and I couldn’t help but smile; note to self, make more of an effort to get to know Luke Alvez.

I approached slowly, hoping not to startle him as he seemed to be lost in his own world. He didn’t notice me until I came to a stop in front of the couch. Spencer’s head shot up suddenly, the worry on his face melting away to form a small smile.

“Hi,” I greeted, returning his smile tenfold. “You looked like you could use some company. Do you mind if I sit?”

Spencer gave me a soft smile and scooted over, patting at the space next to him. I lowered myself onto the couch, angling my body so it was facing him.

“You’re tired,” I observed, leaning back into the soft cushions. Spencer shrugged in reply, opening his mouth to argue, only for a yawn to slip out. I let out a light laugh. “Don’t even try to argue. There’s no telling how long you’ve been up. Why don’t you try and get some sleep?”

Spencer’s eyes reluctantly met mine and I felt almost paralyzed when I saw the sheer vulnerability in them.

“Researchers from the University of Cardiff conducted a two-part study looking at whether people’s daily frustration or fulfilment of their psychological needs, such as feeling autonomous or competent, affects their dreams. The results from the first study showed that people who were frustrated with their daily situation tended to have recurring dreams in which they were falling, failing or being attacked,” he rasped out, his words jumbling together as they fell from his mouth in rapid succession. “The lead author on the study concluded that negative dream emotions may directly result from distressing dream events, and might represent the psyche’s attempt to process and make sense of particularly psychologically challenging waking experiences.”

“And you’re worried your dreams will reflect what happened today.”

Spencer bit the inside of his cheek before nodding in affirmation.

“I can’t promise you that you won’t dream about those things,” I began, my voice coming out soft. “But I can tell you that sleep deprivation can cause lots of very unfortunate symptoms like impaired memory, reduced physical strength, and inability to concentrate. Do you know how I know those things?”

A light flush dusted over the tops of his cheeks.

“Probably because I’ve made it a habit to bore you with my information dumps.”

I shook my head adamantly, reaching a hand up and ruffling up his hair. He batted my hand away, ducking his head to try and hide the smile tugging at his lips.

“Never a bore, Spence. But yes, I know those things because of you and that remarkable brain of yours. And we’re going to need that remarkable brain in tip top shape if we want to get you out of this mess, understood?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” he relented.

I patted a hand on my lap, an invitation for him to use me as a pillow. He seemed hesitant, eyes flitting from my face before going back down to my lap.

“Don’t act shy around me, Pretty Boy. I know better than anyone that you’re a secret cuddle bug,” I teased, earning a snort from the man next to me.

“Am not,” he harrumphed, before deciding to take me up on my offer. He laid his head down on my lap before stretching his legs out across the expanse of the couch. My heart lurched pitifully when he nuzzled his head into my leg before letting out a loud sigh.

“Thank you,” Spencer whispered, voice thick with emotion. His eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks, casting tiny shadows on his face. I smiled at the sight and began carding my hands through his hair.

“No need to thank me,” I murmured, raking my nails against his scalp and eliciting a pleased hum from him. “Don’t you worry about a thing, okay? We’re going to get you out of this. I know we will. And don’t worry about your mom, either; I’m going to check on your mom every day, I promise.”

Spencer’s breathing stuttered at the mention of Diana, and I worried I had crossed a line. He stayed silent for a moment, before moving his hand up and squeezing my knee.

“You’re entirely too good to me.”

“Yeah, well, you’d do the same for me. That’s what friends are for.”

No more words were exchanged, and within five minutes Spencer’s breathing evened out and he was asleep.

Several hours later, we were all filing out of the elevator and into the bullpen. I shivered slightly as the cool air hit my bare arms, but I tried not to show my discomfort. I’d shrugged off my sweater and offered it to Spencer the moment we stepped off the jet, draping it across his cuffed hands in an attempt to conceal them. Spencer had thanked me with a pitiful smile and I returned the sentiment, blinking several times to try and stifle the tears pooling in my eyes.

JJ was the first to greet him, with Stephen, Tara and Penelope following closely behind. I watched on for a moment before my attention was pulled elsewhere. Stephen’s phone had rung, prompting him to slip away from the group and retreat further down the hall. I furrowed my brow at this, taking advantage of my colleagues’ distraction as I wandered towards Stephen. I strained to hear his whispered words, but just as soon as I neared, he ended the call.

“What was that about?” I asked quietly. The look on his face told me that the news couldn’t be good, and I didn’t want to ruin the reunion going on just down the hall. They all deserved a few moments of relief.

Stephen let out a long sigh and ran his hand through his hair before speaking.

“I, uh, just got a call. Reid isn’t eligible for the bureau’s legal assistance.”

Stephen’s words sent a jolt of white-hot dread through me. “How is that even possible?” “Spencer went without being briefed, and he wasn’t in Mexico on government business. They refuse to represent him.”

I let my wary eyes drift down the hall, towards the group of wonderful misfits that I had grown to think of as family;

Penelope, whose optimism never wavered, even in the face of the absolute worst that the world had to offer.

JJ, a devoted mother with a heart of gold and a fierceness that inspired me every single day.

Tara, one of the most intelligent and caring women I had ever had the privilege to know.

Rossi, a father figure to all with enough wisdom to create a legacy that would inspire generations of profilers to be.

Emily, a fearless leader whom I trusted with my life and would follow into battle without question.

Luke, a newcomer who took special care to comfort me when I was at my worst.

Spencer, a man too remarkable to even try to describe with words. A man that anyone of us would defend until our very last breath.

That undeniable truth gave birth to the tiny sliver of hope growing inside of me. Spencer Reid was innocent, and we are all hellbent on proving it.

I nodded once in affirmation, more to myself than to Stephen, before allowing myself to meet his gaze.

“We’re on our own.”

And if anyone could pull this off, it was this team. My team.

There is a point when facing the unknown stops being a longed-for adventure and becomes a terrifying reality.

-Storm Constantine

#spencer reid smut #spencer x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #matthew gray gubler fanfic #mgg #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid self insert #criminal minds self insert #prison spencer #prison!reid

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emilia3546 · 3 years

Text

Shadowsinger Part 21 - Gwynriel

ACOSF Spoilers! Do Not read this unless you have finished ACOSF and the Azriel bonus chapter*

Masterlist with all previous chapters

*****

Gwyn shuffled on her feet, readjusting her skirt, and silently cursed it for being in the way, she could still fight, but not as well as usual, and she'd lose precious seconds reaching for the dagger sheathed at her thigh. Azriel stood beside her, his shadows nowhere to be seen, either spread out around them to be unnoticeable, or hidden in the cloak around Gwyn's shoulders, her protests that she didn't need them having fallen on deaf ears.

"You okay?" He murmured, and she nodded,

"Just a bit nervous, I'll be alright once this first contact is over," because she could still fall at the first hurdle, Evanna had warned them that they would be scrutinized before being allowed in, even if they claimed to support the Illyrian rebellion. She stifled a smile when Azriel squeezed her fingers, their joined hands hidden beneath her cloak, but it was still a risk, they weren't supposed to be in love, she was supposed to be what the Illyrian would expect of a traditional warrior's wife, and a traditional warrior would never display affection so casually, possession yes, but not affection. If he were in love with his wife, which was rare, he'd still only display affection in private, just to maintain his image, it was one of the more ridiculous customs, Gwyn never thought more of someone than when they allowed others to see their heart. The palace doors opened and Gwyn squeezed Azriel's hand back before letting go and reluctantly dropping her gaze to the floor.

"Gavin was it, of the Skybreath Illyrian camp?" A rather young-looking man shouted from the open door,

"Indeed," Azriel replied, not shouting, but clearly making himself heard, "And my wife, Amirah," Gwyn suppressed a smile at the sound of the name that Azriel's mother had chosen, what she would have named him had he been a girl.

"We have no records of others from your supposed camp," the man's tone was low, dangerous,

"That's probably because they're all pathetic cowards who fear the repercussions of standing up for our people, ask anyone you want, I can wait, I've waited long enough for this chance, don't be the reason I lose it," Azriel matched the man's tone, but without shouting, he sounded altogether more dangerous, and Gwyn almost looked up at the feel of the man's gaze on her, fighting to keep her eyes lowered, her attention on observing the guards, the way their protocols were carried out.

"Fine. If we find out that you're lying, you're dead,"

"Good luck with that," Azriel's hand warmed her lower back, "Come on, I'll see who's made it here, then I want to find a bedchamber readied for us," Gwyn forced herself to start forwards, her bones screaming out at her for pretending to be afraid of him when she nodded, but stayed beside him when a guard moved towards them, pressing into his side at the first attempt to grab at her, "What?" Gwyn kept her frightened gaze on the guard, "Get your filthy hands off my wife," he snarled, an arm wrapping around her waist, reassuring for Gwyn, she was doing well, but to anyone else it was a display of possessiveness at a threat. "She stays with me until we reach our bedchamber, I like to know where she is, who she's with." He didn't even bother to veil the threat in his eyes when Gwyn looked up, keeping the guise of fear as she pressed against him, shying away from the guards, and allowed her gaze to dart around, marking who they were, how many of them there were, where they were posted, how alert they were. She ducked her head, following Azriel as they were led through the palace. It was just as they'd expected, with no-one taking notice of Gwyn, except to occasionally ask Azriel who she was, and then to ignore her and speak only to him, allowing her to memorize the palace, its routes, its staff, all while pretending to be quiet and unassuming.

She didn't want to watch Azriel walk away once they'd reached an empty bedchamber, didn't want to see him walking towards the enemy, all it took was one Illyrian who was high enough rank to have seen him, all it took was one recognition, and they'd try and kill him. Still, she couldn't tear her gaze away, only just remembering to make it appear that she was scared for herself, and wanted his protection, not that she was worried for him. Once he'd vanished from sight, Gwyn shot one more frightened look at the guards in the corridor and bolted herself inside the room.

Right, she did have to get the room set up, no-one was coming to do that for her, but that would take maximum half an hour, it wasn't like they exactly had luggage to unload, and then, it was a little after midday now, she'd have a few hours before dinner could be expected. Still, she was stuck in this room for now at least, she could make the most of it.

The notebook tucked into her gown wasn't big enough for every detail, not if she wanted it to last long enough, but she noted down all she'd picked up on guard movements, positions, who was alert, who was bored. It wasn't enough, she'd make a point to have Azriel find some other females to 'keep her from boredom' who she could help with palace tasks, laundry, cleaning, the Illyrians made their females do the chores at home, why not here? She'd be all over the palace that way, easily able to pick up information, it'd hopefully make their stay shorter, hopefully help with preventing a full-on civil war.

*****

Azriel couldn't dare glance over his shoulder to Gwyn, where she was undoubtedly waiting by the door to their bedchamber, even with every part of him screaming not to leave her with those people, to go back to her. He listened to what the male beside him was saying, he'd seen him before at Ironcrest, from a distance, and he was probably the highest-ranking males here, being involved in training and organisation of Ironcrest's warriors, he could be a headache later.

"Where did you find her?"

"Find who?"

"That pretty little wife of yours, I must say you're a lucky male with that one, I'd love to know what she'd feel like on my-" the male didn't get a chance to finish his sentence, breaking off with a choked gasp as Azriel slammed him against the wall, a hand curling around his throat, pure death shining in his eyes. "Whoa, calm down, I'm sorry, I wasn't gonna do anything,"

"I sure as fuck hope not," Azriel snarled, still not releasing him, fighting the urge to end him then and there, unable to shake the image of the last male who'd thought such things about Gwyn. "Touch her and it'll be last thing you ever do," the smaller male paled at the threat,

"I swear, I won't, I was saying she's beautiful," she was beautiful, but the way he'd said it, it wasn't a compliment, if Azriel hadn't reacted, maybe he would have tried something, gods, maybe someone else would. He wasn't supposed to care to like that,

"She's mine, understand?" He added, covering his tracks, the reaction was supposed to just be possessiveness, not him actually caring for her wellbeing, he wasn't supposed to be worried about that.

"Yeah, I got it," the other male was still panting when Azriel released him, "Sorry, dude, I didn't mean it like that,"

"Yes, you did, but I'm a merciful male, if you never speak of her like that again, I'll let it slide, she is beautiful, but she's mine." The male nodded,

"Noted," and took a deep breath before continuing to explain the set-up, "You're the only one from Skybreath, bunch of cowards, so we'll probably attach you to another camp, for numbers' sake, those bastards do have the advantage in that department, and they have the High Lord, and 'High Lady'," he snorted at the mention of Feyre, "But we can trust the humans to help with that,"

"How? They're fucking powerful,"

"Yeah, but they're just as susceptible to ash and faebane as the rest of us, I'd wager that they're not still taking that damned antidote. Then again, the higher-ups think we could simply kidnap their son and use him to get them to give in, but I'd like a good fight anyway, and y'know someone might end up just killing the brat, then we'd be in deep shit." Oh yes, if they harmed one hair on Nyx's head, Rhys alone was likely to simply mist the entirety of their armies before any battle, and that was if he were safety returned, at the latest, the day after he was taken, if it were longer, or if Nyx were harmed, there would be no safe place in this world for those responsible.

"Probably a bad idea that," Azriel mused,

"I'd reckon you're right, the bleeding hearts want to regain our loyalty, they'll just try and obliterate us if we hurt the boy," Azriel grunted in agreement, dropping the conversation when they turned a corner, the corridor opening into a wide chamber, filled with brawling Illyrians, a temporary training ring, not bad. He ran his gaze across the crowd, there was no-one likely to recognize him, but he still wouldn't draw attention to himself, even if wearing two siphons might do just that, but he couldn't risk it with only one, not with Gwyn here as well. He nodded a quick greeting to anyone who bothered to acknowledge him, his mind still racing. He'd have to find a way to make sure that Gwyn wasn't ever left completely on her own, if just one other male had a similar thought to the one beside him, and if he wasn't there, if she couldn't get her dagger drawn in time, he didn't want to finish that thought.

The Illyrians were well organised, not to the same degree as the loyal armies back home, but they could present a threat, especially if it was true that they were to be armed with ash and faebane. The leaders eventually decided to attach 'Gavin' to one of the smaller camps, where he'd be able to adjust more easily, where, Azriel noted with a hint of satisfaction, it would be easy to gain their trust. He made his way across the room to where his new 'comrades' were taking a break,

"Hey look, looks like they've given us the latecomer," Azriel's attention snapped to the male who'd spoken, dark hair cropped close to his skull, blue eyes, that was rare for an Illyrian, he smiled and offered his hand, "Nathan," Azriel took the proffered hand,

"Gavin, from Skybreath,"

"Oh, I was wondering if anyone would bother coming from Skybreath," Nathan chuckled, "Braver than the rest then?"

"Or more stupid," Azriel chuckled, "I've been waiting a long time for this,"

"As have we all, brother," Azriel resisted the urge to snap at him not to call him that, but forced himself to smile, to join in the conversation, and to not beat the shit out of all of them when they reclaimed a spot in the training ring. "How the fuck did you get your hands on a second siphon?" Nathan's observational skills left much to be desired, but it was wishful thinking to hope that he wouldn't notice at all, especially when Azriel had just pinned him to the mats.

"I needed it,"

"Fuck. We got a powerful one here, boys," chuckles surrounded them, and Nathan rolled his eyes as one of the others drawled,

"We know, idiot! That's why you're the only one stupid enough to fight him," another male laughed,

"He's probably some high born lord, or something,"

"Are you?" Nathan's eyes were shining with curiosity, something fairly rare for Illyrians, but he did seem young, untested, perhaps he had no idea what he was getting into, but Azriel had learned the hard way not to bother with the benefit of the doubt,

"Not really, my mother died a while back, and my father was your bog-standard warrior, nothing special really, he got killed in a border dispute a few decades ago, guess I just got lucky, the Mother likes me maybe," he shrugged, "It certainly helped on the way over here, since no one else came with us, it was just me and my wife, and she's not much help with fighting, y'know," chuckled from everyone, including Nathan,

"She clipped?"

"Who do you think I am? Of course," Azriel's temper flared up again at the approving nods from around him, only Nathan looked uncomfortable,

"You did it?"

"What? No, when she was young, like everyone else, but it did mean that I had to carry her here, which was a pain,"

"Still, bet you found a good one, being all powerful and shit,"

"Yeah, I'll have to go fetch her before we leave for dinner, I left her in our bedchamber, she'll want food," each word hit him in the core, even if none of it was true, the idea that this was normal to these people made him want to scream, but he guided the conversation back to the war, to what he needed to hear, even with his mind continually drifting back to Gwyn.

*****

Footsteps outside had Gwyn shoving the notebook back into her dress,

"Amirah!" She rushed to the door, keeping her eyes down in case Azriel wasn't alone, he wasn't, and someone let out a huff,

"Shit, how the fuck did you leave her all day?" One of the males beside him chuckled, "We'll see you in a bit," Azriel nodded and stepped past Gwyn into the room,

"You okay?" She mumbled, just loud enough for him to hear, and he nodded,

"I hate this, I have to pretend that I'm not hopelessly in love with you," Gwyn's stupid, faithless heart fluttered in her chest at those words, ignoring the way Azriel's eyes were dark, tired,

"Hey," she muttered, "It's okay, I know it's not true," Azriel's head snapped towards the door,

"Shit," he muttered, "They're still there, they're listening in, they won't have heard, but," Gwyn narrowed her eyes, and her eyes widened at the realization,

"They want to listen?"

"Moan, now, or they'll think something's up," he was right,

"I don't know what to do," she whispered, a feeling of true fear descending upon her, they'd gotten in, gotten embedded and he stupid, foolish fears were going to get them discovered, gods she was really useless,

"Hey, Gwyn," Azriel tipped her chin upwards, swiping his thumb across her cheek, "Just make any sound, you can't do it wrong, we don't actually need to do anything, just make them think we are,"

"But why? I don't get it,"

"They're all horny shits, and they've seen how fucking gorgeous you are. I've been away from you all day, they'll expect me to want certain things upon reuniting with you," oh, she knew what he meant, but just one day? That was surely excessive, but she nodded, and kissed him gently,

"I don't think I can just do it on command, kiss me, and then we'll see," she looped her arms around his neck, and did moan at the first brush of his lips against her neck, her head falling backwards so that Azriel had to hold her up, she moaned again, and he groaned at the feel of her lips against his, deliberately chucking his jacket aside so it made a loud thunk on the floor. Gwyn pressed her fingers against Azriel's lips, waiting, footsteps, they were really alone now,

"I'm sorry about that," Azriel muttered,

"What are you talking about? Kissing you is wonderful,"

"But I don't want you to think that you have to, even if it's for keeping our cover,"

"I didn't, it was just a chance to kiss you, and it was helpful to convince those others, but if I didn't want to I wouldn't have," she chuckled, "Are you sure you're okay?" Azriel collapsed onto the bed, dragging her with him with a yelp,

"I'm okay, just worried,"

"Worried?"

"About you. One of the males who showed me around made a comment that I didn't appreciate, and I doubt you would have done,"

"Did he seem like he wanted to act on that comment?" Gwyn stomach churned, and she glanced around the room, marking the locked door and windows. Azriel stiffened, realizing that she immediately knew what he was referring to,

"Not once I'd dealt with him, but all takes is one, I don't want you to have to deal with that, especially when I can't be with you, you might be on your own and," he took in a deep breath, "I just worry about what could happen if someone tries somehting,"

"I'm never on my own, Az," a shadow danced around her, "If I need to, I can fight with or without my dagger, and I want to find out what the other Illyrian females are doing here, there must be others,"

"There are," Azriel admitted, "They do the chores and stuff, help making and adjusting leathers and armor,"

"I can do that," Gwyn said, "It'll give me a chance to speak to them, to learn things that the males might overlook, and to simply be in the palace, invisible. I can 'get lost' and find my way to restricted areas, the queens' offices perhaps," Azriel pursed his lips together, but she was right, she knew he was, and no matter how much he wanted her to be safe, he knew that too,

"You're right, I know that, I just wish you didn't have to do it by yourself,"

"I know, but that's going to be how we have to work here, now," she twisted in his lap, "Tell me everything you found out today."

#fanfic #fanfiction #acotar #acosf #a court of thorns and roses #a court of silver flames #azriel x gwyn #gwyneth berdara #Gwyn acosf #gwynriel #Gwyn #Azwyn #Azriel

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theweasleysredhair · 4 years

Text

One For The Road [S.B.]

Character: Sirius Black

Word Count: 2029

Requested?: Yes/No

Summary: Post-Azkaban Sirius is a jealous guy... especially when it comes to his girl and Snivellous.

Disclaimer: Gif isn't mine, credit to whoever made it

A/n: I hope the requester enjoys! (requests still open, feel free to send some my way!) also yes I only named this fic ‘one for the road’ bc of the arctic monkeys song

+ + + + +

“Do you have to go back to Hogwarts this year?” Sirius groaned as he wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, resting his head on your shoulder as you tried to wash the remaining pots.

“I reckon so, being a teacher and all,” you laughed, placing a pan on the drying rack. He nuzzled his face into your neck, his long hair tickling as he placed a soft kiss there.

“I’m going to miss you.”

You’d been waiting for this. Sirius hadn’t really made any comments about you having to leave, even though he and you were aware that you’d be away most of the school year, just like Harry would be. You had begun to worry about him being alone in Grimmauld Place again, especially after being around people constantly over the summer holidays.

You dried your hands on the tea towel and spun around in his arms to face him, “I’m going to miss you too. But you know you can write, and I’ll write too, and Christmas will be here before you know it. It’s only four months away.”

Sirius pushed his lips against yours for a moment, his hands gripping your hips as he pulled you closer to him. You responded immediately, kissing back and wrapping your arms around his neck. “That’s four months too long, love,” he mumbled against your lips as he pulled away a couple inches.

“It’ll fly by, I promise. Remus said he’d stay with you in the meantime so you’re not here alone. I hate thinking about you here, especially with that bloody painting... I just want to take you with me.”

“I’ll happily jump into one of your suitcases love, just say the word and I’ll do it.”

“Don’t tempt me,” you grinned as you turned back to washing. You were just placing the last pot on the drying rack as people started arriving at the house. You placed the tea towel on the counter and slowly pulled away from Sirius’ arms - much to his dismay - to greet Remus, who was followed closely by Tonks.

“Wotcher, Y/n!” Tonks greeted as she pulled a chair out at the dining table. “Hi Tonks!”

“How are you doing, Y/n? Ready for work?” Remus asked, taking his own seat at the dining table. “I’m not doing bad, I’m half packed for the next term, still got a few bits I need to sort out but I’ll get there. You’d think I’d be a dab hand at this by now but I still end up forgetting something every year,” you said with an airy laugh and a shrug, leaning against the counter.

The sound of Walburga Black screaming in the hallway made all of you look over, Sirius sighing dramatically as he left the room to go shut her up - although not before giving your bum a cheeky squeeze, causing you to swat at him with the damp tea towel and making him chuckle.

He returned a few minutes later with Kingsley Shacklebolt, Mad Eye, Arthur Weasley and Bill Weasley, who were followed closely by Severus Snape - an old school mate and colleague of yours - and finally Dumbledore.

You greeted them all with a smile, taking a couple of steps over towards Snape, who you chatted with for a small while about the year to come at Hogwarts. At some point, Sirius had sidled up to you and threw an arm around your waist not-at-all subtly, making you roll your eyes playfully at him. You turned to Arthur instead.

“No Molly today?” You asked him. He shook his head, “No no, not today, she’s with the rest of the kids, getting ready for Hogwarts. Thought it best she keep an eye on them all.” You nodded understandingly.

The rest of the meeting went off without much drama, besides the glares you saw Sirius shooting over at Snape, but that was to be expected by now, what with the whole hatred thing they had going on. You didn’t really understand it, even back when you were all at Hogwarts yourselves. And whilst you didn’t agree with the way he treated Lily the last time they spoke, you’d never personally had a bad experience with the man, and actually got on well at Hogwarts - or as best you could, anyway.

When everyone had finally left a couple of hours later, you decided to continue packing for Hogwarts, knowing it would be worse to try and rush the morning of your travels.

As you placed some of your final items into your last trunk, you turned to Sirius, who was stood in the doorway of his - or rather, your shared - bedroom, leaning against the frame with his arms folded across his chest.

“You’ve been uncharacteristically quiet, what’s up love?” You asked, raising an eyebrow worriedly. “Nothing,” he replied, not quite meeting your eyes.

You smiled to yourself and walked the short distance over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck and making him automatically rest his on your hips. “Is this about Severus? Because you know I’ve told you to ignore the things he says,” you said brushing your nose against his. “Snivellous,” Sirius spat his name out, “Can say what he wants about me. What I don’t like is when he’s so close to you.”

“Ohh, you’re jealous!” “I’m not jealous.” “You’re so jealous! Oh Godric, I never even realised. Oh love, you know I adore and love you and no one else, you don’t have to worry about him. He’s just someone I have to work with. No one could hold a candle to you,” you said, closing the small gap between you and pressing your lips to Sirius’. He kissed back easily, spinning you round so you were pinned between him and his bedroom wall. “You promise?” He mumbled against your lips. “I solemnly swear it,” you teased with a laugh, finally making him crack a smile, “I’ll be back before you know it, don’t you worry.”

***

It had been nearly two weeks since you’d arrived back at Hogwarts. The students were starting to settle back in, as were the staff, and honestly you loved being there, loved your job. Sure, it was disheartening sometimes when you couldn’t see Sirius but the smiles on your students faces made up for some of it.

You’d just owled a reply to the first of Sirius’ letters for the school year, wanting to update him on your first couple of weeks back. You were also worried about him, knowing he hated being stuck in Grimmauld Place, especially when he was alone. You’d also happened to mention Snape’s idea of starting a duelling club, and how excited you were to be a part of it, loving the idea of teaching the students more magic. What could be better?

A couple of days later, you were sat in your classroom, a pile of students’ essays sat in front of you as you marked them. This was the part of teaching you didn’t like as much, but it was nice to know that nearly every student you taught had handed something in, and most were to a high standard. Not a huge surprise, considering many of your students adored your lessons, but the response was still nice to see.

You were lost in your work, when suddenly there was a knock at the door that made you look up, “Oh Professor L/n?”

Although you couldn’t help the smile that was fighting to show on your face, you exclaimed, “What are you doing here?! You could be seen - are you mad?”

The dark haired man stepped inside and closed the door behind him, “Of course I’m mad, I spent 12 years locked away. But anyway, I just came to visit my lovely girlfriend at her amazing job.”

You moved around your desk to give him a hug, “You must be careful, I can’t have anyone seeing you - did Dumbledore agree to this?”

Feeling Sirius chuckle under your embrace, you rolled your eyes good-naturedly.

“Of course not. I never asked permission. I just missed you.”

“I missed you too! It’s only been two weeks as well,” you said with a grin as you pulled away slightly to look up at him, however still staying in his arms.

“A very long two weeks. I don’t think I’m going to make it until Christmas without seeing you, I just felt I had to come and see you, I missed your pretty face.”

You looked at his ‘innocent’ face and squinted your eyes, before scoffing with amusement, “Bullshit... you were jealous weren’t you? Of Severus? Because I mentioned him in that letter?” “Of that greaseball? No way,” he shook his head but you could tell he was blatantly lying.

“You do realise I love you and only you right?”

“I know, I know. You always say and show it and I’m so lucky to have you. I just... I’m so scared you’ll realise you deserve better,” he sighed, looking down as he gently squeezed your hips, “I mean... you deserve someone who can take you out on dates and show you off to the world! I can’t do that, I’m just an old fugitive.”

“I don’t care about all that, I don’t want someone else, I want you. I deserve you and you deserve me. I love you, Sirius, and I wouldn’t change you for the world. You’re a fugitive because the ministry were incompetent - as always - with handling the entire case, but regardless, I don’t care. No one, not Severus, not anyone could take me away from you. I waited for you because I knew you’d escape and I knew you’d come back to me because we love each other. I always have, from way back when you were a bloody heartthrob and girls chased you. You used to tell me that none of them mattered because they weren’t me. Now it’s my turn to tell you that no other guy matters because they’re not you. I love you so bloody much.”

You pushed your lips to his, kissing him passionately and with as much love as you could pour into it. He kissed back, lifting you up onto your desk and nudging the papers out of the way as he stood between your legs, one hand squeezing your thigh as the other cupped your cheek. He tilted your head to deepen the kiss, licking across your bottom lip as you parted them to allow him access into your mouth. “I love you,” he mumbled between kisses. “I love you too.”

You didn’t know how long you were there, all you knew was that you were thankful no one had tried to walk in on you both - although you weren’t sure you would have noticed if they had. You ran a hand through his hair and pecked his lips again, “As much as I want to keep you here, you probably need to go before you get caught!”

“What if I don’t care?”

“I do care, I want you to spend Christmas with me, so please make sure you get home safe,” you said.

“Fine, fine, I’ll see you again at Christmas, counting down the days!” He stepped backwards, before quickly kissing your swollen lips again and then reluctantly beginning left the room.

“See you then, my love,” you called after him, receiving a loving smile in return. You just about caught a glimpse of him turning into his dog form before you took a deep breath, going to sit back down at your desk to continue marking the papers.

You’d just written down an “O” on one of them when a head popped round the door of your classroom. You looked up, expecting a fellow teacher or perhaps a student, instead being met with the cheeky grin of your Sirius Black.

Just as you opened your mouth to speak, he beat you to it, his grin turning easily into a smirk as he said, “I don’t suppose I could have one more kiss for the road?”

And well... when he looked like that, who were you to deny him?

#sirius #sirius black #sirius x reader #sirius black x reader #sirius imagine #sirius imagines #sirius black imagine #sirius black imagines #post azkaban sirius #post azkaban sirius x reader #post azkaban sirius black x reader #post azkaban sirius imagine #post azkaban sirius black imagine #marauders #marauders x reader #marauders imagine #marauders imagines #harry potter #all queue have to do is follow the spiders

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the-void-i-scream-into · 3 years

Text

White Tulips - a JunJin fanfic 3/3

Full Story: Part 1, Part 2

Hey my beautiful readers. Thank you so much for sticking around till now. I was honestly so terrified of posting this fanfic because I had never done that before but everyone’s response has been so kind to me. Thank you.

This is the final part. I hope you all enjoyed the story. As always, this chapter is dedicated to the Shooters GC who are the best people on Tumblr.

Quick Info: The songs used in this chapter are You Were Beautiful by Day6. Park Yoona who plays Sujin said in an interview that she liked Day6, specifically this song. Haru by Royal Pirates is a personal favorite of mine. It has the same theme as True Beauty that in real love, things like looks don’t matter. The final song that Seojun sings to Sujin is Half Moon by Dean. Hwang In Yeop who plays Seojun stated that he liked this song in an interview.

Pairing: Kang Sujin x Han Seojun

Romantic Trope: Haters to friends to lovers

Word Count: 16.2k [this one is LONG]

Rating: T

PART 3

“What have I done?” Sujin pulled at her hair in frustration.

The deal she had made with Han Seojun had been the on account of the many shots of soju she had taken. It was only when she had sobered up the next morning that she realized, with horror, just what exactly she had promised.

It was a bad idea. On paper it sounded plausible; two people suffering from the same pain could empathize with each other. But in reality, going through a heartbreak meant that you needed someone to support you, not the other way around. Trying to support someone whilst being in pain yourself was hard. And in this particular case, it would be impossible. Mainly because the people Kang Sujin and Han Seojun liked were with each other.

Sujin could see her and Han Seojun’s fledgling friendship going up in flames before it had even had a chance to fly. She would always want to talk about Lee Suho and he would resent that since Suho was the one dating Jukyung. Seojun would want to talk about Jukyung and Sujin would find that annoying for the same reason.

It was a recipe for disaster.

“Yah, gimme your number.” Sujin had demanded last night, handing Han Seojun her phone after he had agreed to her stupid proposal. Seojun had obediently entered his number at her behest. She programmed her number in his phone as well.

“There. Now we can text each other if we ever need to talk.”

“Ya, why am I Gangster in your phone?” Seojun had protested when he had saw her type it out.

Sujin had chuckled, drunk on soju. “Because you’re a gangster, you gangster.”

“Is that so?” Seojun proceeded to type away furiously into his phone. He held it up for Sujin to see.

“Princess? Are we kindergarteners?” Sujin had frowned.

Seojun stuck his tongue out. “That’s what you get for naming me Gangster.”

Sujin had retaliated, editing his contact. “Here!” She held up her phone.

“Wha-What? Twerp?”

Sujin blanked on the argument that had proceeded after this but she knew they did argue. To the point that the owner of the tent bar kicked them out.

Now Sujin was stuck with the contact named as Twerp on her phone and she had no idea what to do with it. Should she text him? Should she delete it? Should she just pretend last night didn’t happen?

She knew she should choose the third option. Or even the second. But her hand itched to send Seojun a text and see if he really was up for hanging out.

All day long Sujin kept checking her phone, looking for any new messages or missed calls she may have received. All she got were some memes from Suah and everyone else’s responses to those messages on their group chat. Han Seojun had also responded with a laughing emoji. Which meant he wasn’t too body or occupied to text Sujin.

Then why wasn’t he texting her?

Why do I care?

Sujin knew why. It was because she had no body else to talk to about what was bothering her. Normally, she would have called Jukyung but this time, she couldn’t. Jukyung’s giant engagement ring kept flashing in her mind over and over. It even plagued her dreams last night.

Sujin needed to occupy herself. Her current jobless situation wasn’t helping things either. She quickly fired a text to Suah to see if she was free to hang.

Sorry Kang Su! Me and Taehoon are going to visit his parents. Suah had replied.

Sujin looked at her list of contacts. There was no one else but Han Seojun who she could ask. Reluctantly, she texted him.

I’m going to the batting cages. Wanna join me?

Sujin pressed send before she could stop herself and was immediately filled with deep regret she saw the “Seen” check appear.

One minute, two minute, fifteen minutes passed. He didn’t reply.

“Guess he wasn’t interested.” Sujin lamented. It would have been nice to have someone to hang with, but given the obvious rejection, she had to make do with just lonesome herself.

Kang Sujin wasn’t exactly a prodigy at sports, but she was considerably better than most. Batting happened to be one of her strong suits.

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!

She hit each ball with graceful ease. Her brows were furrowed in focus. Her breathing controlled and steady. Sujin had learned long ago that sports aided in dealing with her rage and frustrations. It was a way to release all of her worries in a healthy manner and channel inner peace.

Thwack! Thwack!

She hit again and again, not caring about the score, just wanting to get the shot.

“Wow, I’m impressed.”

“Huh?” Sujin carelessly turned and her surprise at finding Han Seojun standing in the adjacent batting area was only thwarted by the ball hitting her in the torso. She yelped in pain.

“Oh, gwenchana?” Seojun asked in concern.

“Aish.” Sujin held her side and moved out of the way of the pitching machine. She gave Seojun a scathing look. “What are you doing here?”

“You asked to meet here didn’t you?”

“People normally respond to invitations to confirm they’re coming.” Sujin checked herself for injuries before resuming her batting position.

Seojun was quiet. “I wasn’t sure whether I wanted to meet you.”

Thwack! Sujin hit a ball. “Oh, yeah? What made you change your mind?”

Seojun picked up his bat, not responding. The pitching machine on his lane whirred to life. He hit his ball. Thwack! “Did you see the video Jukyung posted?”

“Ah-nee.” Sujin replied. Thwack!

“She posted a bridal makeup tutorial.”

Sujin missed the next ball. And the one after that. Seojun could feel her gaze on his back but didn’t dare turn. From his posture Sujin could sense hostility. Which was fine, she hadn’t invited him here to talk. She invited him here to vent. She resumed her batting.

“I scored higher than you.” Sujin informed with a grin once they were done.

“Good for you.” Han Seojun said, unimpressed.

He still seemed on edge. Sujin had tried to engage him during their small breaks between the game but all he had given her were clipped answers.

“Did you watch the entire video?”

“Yes.”

“How did it feel?”

“How do you think I felt?”

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Just hit the ball.”

Sujin didn’t know how Seojun was when they had parted, but she herself felt significantly better. She went home with a peaceful mind and even discovered that she had gotten a call from a prospective employer. They asked if she could come in for an interview the following week. Perhaps things would be getting better from now on.

Or perhaps not.

The interview had gone horribly wrong, especially after the interviewer realized who she was. Sujin had expected a polite rejection but instead the interviewer had decided that she deserved a lecture on bullying from him.

“You know. I was bullied too as a kid.” The interviewer had said.

The experience had left her shaken. Was this going to be her life from now on? Would she just be kicked out of society just like that, over a badly reported gossip article?

Sujin’s hands ached to be washed but she refused to even think about it. She needed an outlet and she knew exactly what she wanted. It was then that she got a text from Han Seojun.

Let’s meet.

Sujin told him where to show up.

“You know jujitsu?” Seojun was surprised when she had invited him for a match.

“Don’t you?” Sujin said, clad in her white Gi. She had been warming up when Seojun had arrived clad in jeans and a hoodie. He had a cap on underneath the hood.

“I don’t fight with girls.”

“And what if a girl fights with you?”

Seojun chuckled incredulously.

“If you can laugh like that then you can show me what you’ve got, no? Or are you afraid you’ll lose like you lost in the batting cages.”

“That wasn’t a competition.”

Sujin smirked, “Sure it wasn’t.”

Seojun rolled his eyes and went to change out of his clothes.

Smack! Down Han Seojun went. He had gone easy on Kang Sujin for the first round because she was a girl. But she had immediately disarmed him and thrown him over her shoulder. Grinning like a wolf, she immediately took the fighting position again, leaving Han Seojun to recover on the floor.

“First one doesn’t count!” He argued.

“What’s wrong, Han Seojun? Can’t even fight against a girl?”

Seojun got up, “Alright. I won’t be going easy on you anymore.”

“Fine by me.”

Sujin attacked first, Seojun quickly blocked her, wrapped his arms around her waist and tried to push her down. She wrapped her legs around him and swiveled him around so that he fell. Then she quickly wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling at his arm.

“You fight without strategy.” Sujin said through clenched teeth as she tried to keep him down. Seojun managed to turn her entire body over, releasing himself.

“Fighting is about instinct. Not strategies.” Seojun went for the attack this time. Sujin blocked him but he easily maneuvered around her, throwing her down and pinning her in place with all his strength. It was an awkward position to be in, but he didn’t care. He would not let her win.

“Anything without a strategy is doomed to fail.” She grabbed his collar and adjusted her leg to flip them over. Now she was keeping him down.

“Nope. Instincts always win.” He weaseled out of her grip and they parted.

Sujin took fighting position again. She easily jabbed and smacked him around while Seojun blocked haphazardly. She was precise and focused, knowing exactly where to hit and how.

In her mind, she wasn’t fighting with Han Seojun. She was fighting with her interviewer. She jabbed and blocked and kicked the man who had sat and judged her without even hearing her side of the story. It was cathartic to let this all out. And if Han Seojun got hurt in the way, then she didn’t mind.

Sujin and Seojun fought for a long time, both sweating and panting with exhaustion but neither relenting.

“I’m still winning Han Seojun.” Sujin said with labored breath.

“We’re not done yet.”

Smack! Down Han Seojun went. Again, and again, and again.

“Had enough?” Sujin asked as they parted.

“Never.”

Seojun attacked. Sujin easily blocked it, kicking him in the chest. The mat was slick with their sweat. Sujin didn’t see Seojun slip and fall to his knees. She only spun around to deliver a roundhouse kick to his torso. But the kick would have hit him in the face. Except, except Han Seojun caught her ankle just in time. The force of it nearly knocked him down.

“I can’t let you hit my face.” He said with a half smirk.

“Wae?” She asked with a flick of her brow.

“It’s a precious commodity.”

He pulled Sujin by her ankle, bringing her leg to his side. She fell on him, using his shoulders to brace herself. Their noses were almost touching. He cupped her calf and grabbed her sleeve to hold her in place.

It was too close. Sujin’s mind went blank. And that was the opening Seojun needed to throw her down.

“I won that round.” He grinned, standing up.

“Doesn’t matter. I’m still ahead.” Sujin’s face still felt hot. She got up and straightened her Gi. “I think that’s enough for today.”

Seojun nodded. “You hungry?” He asked. After the workout she had just had, she was ravenous.

They went to a nearby convenience store where they got ramen. Seojun watched in surprise as Sujin hungrily chowed down.

“What?” Sujin asked.

“You are a very unexpected girl, Kang Sujin.” Seojun took off his cap and ran his hand through his hair.

Sujin smiled and stirred her ramen. “So, what happened this time?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why’d you ask to see me today? Did Jukyung post another video?”

Seojun hesitated. “Last time… I was in a bad mood. But you seemed like you wanted to talk.”

Sujin gave a slow smile. “What? You felt guilty?”

“Yes.” Seojun said unabashedly.

“You know we don’t have to talk. Maybe we can just keep each other company.”

“Sure. That seems fine.” Seojun looked at her critically. “But something was bothering you today.”

Sujin bit her cheek. “I had an interview today.”

“Didn’t go well.” It wasn’t a question.

Sujin told him, about how her interviewer treated her. About how she feared she may never get a job again.

“Ah-nee, how can people be so ridiculous? You already settled the matter didn’t you? Then what’s everybody’s problem?” Seojun’s outburst warmed Sujin’s heart. It felt good to talk and share. It made Sujin feel lighter. She wondered if she could return the favor.

“You didn’t tell me what you thought of Jukyung’s video.”

Seojun’s face fell. “Ah. That.” He leaned back and sighed. “Did you see it?”

“Yeah.”

Seojun’s face was a strange combination of pain and admiration. “She looked beautiful, didn’t she?”

Sujin’s voice was small. “Yeah, she did.” And Suho probably thought so too.

“They’ve been together for so long. Marriage was inevitable. But now that it’s happening… I don’t know. I just feel… honestly I don’t even know what I feel anymore.”

“I know what you mean. I can’t imagine how I’m going to attend the wedding.”

“My mom’s inviting the two over for dinner to celebrate. Imagine having to sit through that.”

“Yikes. Does your mom know how you feel?”

“Of course, she does. But Lee Suho is my best friend and she’s happy for him.”

“Well… I’m always here,” Sujin held up her phone, “just a text away. If you need me.”

“What I need right now is more food.” Seojun got up.

“Aren’t idols supposed to diet?”

“Not when they’ve had their ass kicked twelve times. You want anything?”

“Nah. I’m full.”

While Han Seojun went inside, Sujin checked her phone for any messages and emails. She had applied to a dozen non-profit companies. None of them, except the interview today, had gotten back.

“Omo. Isn’t that, that girl?” Someone said loudly.

“Yah! Shhh!”

Sujin looked up to some mean looking high schoolers gawking at her. There were three of them but the one standing in the front was clearly the leader. The girls to her side was trying to keep her quiet but unsuccessfully.

“It is! Look. Its that woman, Kang Sujin! Wah! I never thought I’d meet someone I read about online in real life.” The leader girl came forward, crossing her arms.

Sujin stood up to her full height. The girl was shorter than her, but she was undeterred. Sujin half admired her courage.

“Can I help you?” Sujin asked in a measured tone.

The leader girl stared Sujin down. “Check out her audacity. Should someone who’s hated by everyone be talking like that?” The girl spoke in banmal.

“I don’t know you. And you don’t know me. So why don’t you leave?” Sujin suggested. These kids were younger than her, although by not much. They looked like seniors who might have been held back a year or two.

“Why should I leave? You leave.”

“I was here first.”

“This is my usual place. My boyfriend’s coming here to meet me.” The girl said self-assuredly.

“Then let him come. There’s enough space for the both of us.”

“I don’t think so.” The girl got right in her face. “You’re the girl who seduced our Seojun Oppa, aren’t you? Don’t you know that you almost ruined his career by doing that?”

Sujin laughed at the thought of Han Seojun being someone’s Oppa. He always seemed so childish to her.

“Oh, you think its funny to ruin someone’s career?”

Sujin tried to explain calmly, “No, no. I wasn’t—"

The girl pushed her, “Women like you are everything that’s wrong with the world!”

The old Kang Sujin would have kicked this rude girl’s ass by this point. But Sujin was trying to be a new Kang Sujin, one that didn’t hate easily. Sujin sighed. “Kid, just leave me alone.”

The girl poked her finger in Sujin’s shoulder. “And what if I don’t?”

Sujin raised a hand and the girl flinched. But Sujin only stroked her head. “Youngster, you shouldn’t be so rude to people.”

“Like you were to Lim Jukyung?” Sujin’s face hardened as the girl taunted, “What? You guys are friends now? Who would buy that bullshit? People are you are such trash. You go around flaunting your beauty, seducing our idols. Trash like you doesn’t belong here.”

“Yah, stop it!” The girl’s friends warned from behind.

“Chaeri, you’ll get into trouble.”

Chaeri didn’t listen. “Leave! I don’t want people like you here.” She told Sujin.

It was one thing to be nice. It was quite another to be weak. And Kang Sujin was anything but weak. “You want me to leave?” Sujin said. “Then make me.” Sujin stood her ground, glaring at the girl.

Chaeri smiled. “Okay.” She reached over to the half finished can of soda that Han Seojun had left on the table and poured it over Sujin.

Sujin closed her eyes to calm herself. Don’t engage Kang Sujin.

“Here you go, b****.”

Alright, screw it.

Sujin’s eyes popped open enraged. “What did you just call me? B****?” She grabbed Chaeri’s hair and pulled.

Chaeri screamed, “Yah! What are you doing?”

“I was going easy on you since you’re a teenager. But now I see you need to be taught a lesson.” Sujin kept her grip firmly on the Chaeri hair as the girl struggled to break free. “Listen carefully. Just because someone has allegedly done something wrong doesn’t mean you get to take justice in your hands. If you see something wrong, you speak up about it. If it’s happening in front of you, you stop it. But you don’t go around harassing someone without even understanding the full story, arachi? If I’m a bully, then go tell the police and have them investigate. Calling me names and bothering me only makes you another bully, not an avenger.”

Sujin let go. Chaeri ran and cowered by her friends who looked at Sujin in fear.

“Now get out of my sight. And don’t let me see you girls again.”

The girls ran away as Sujin watched. She didn’t enjoy what had just happened. It left a bitter taste in her mouth.

Was I too harsh?

“Remind me never to piss you off again.” Han Seojun came to stand by her.

“Mwo-ya, were you watching? How long were you here.”

“I came out when I saw you grabbing that girl’s hair.”

Sujin frowned in worry. “I wasn’t—”

“I know.” Seojun came forward, eyeing her head. “I heard the speech. Did they do this?” He pointed to her wet hair.

“Ugh. Yeah.” Sujin groaned.

“Let’s go inside. You can clean up.”

Sujin used the convenience store bathroom to wash out the soda from her hair. She dried off with some paper towels but her head looked like a mess when she was done. She tried to smoothen it down but then it stuck to her face weirdly.

In the store, Han Seojun was signing an autograph for the store clerk. “Ya, gimme that.” Sujin came up behind him and took his cap off from him, putting it on herself. Han Seojun didn’t bat an eye lash.

“Here you go.” He told the clerk.

“Thank you. My girlfriend will really appreciate it.” The clerk beamed.

The convenience store entrance rang as they exited.

“You can keep that cap.” Seojun told Sujin.

“Ah really?”

“Yah! Are you the one who harassed my girlfriend?”

Seojun and Sujin turned. The high schooler, Chaeri, was standing there with four hulking boys, all looking like miscreants with their mean faces and unkempt clothing. They seemed older than high school kids, more like college students. The girl’s friends were notably missing. It was just her and the four thugs.

“Han Seojun,” Sujin whispered, “you leave.”

“No.” He said casually, yet firmly.

“You could get into another scandal, you idiot!” Sujin hissed.

“No.”

Sujin clenched her jaw. “Listen to me, you dolt. You’ll—”

“Omo! Is that Han Seojun?” Chaeri was staring, eyes wide in wonder. “It is! Oh my God, Oppa! Is that you? Why are you here?” Chaeri’s eyes passed between Seojun and Sujin. “Oppa, are you actually dating this girl?” She asked, sounding betrayed.

“You know this guy?” Chaeri’s boyfriend asked.

“He’s Han Seojun. He’s an idol.”

“He’s not with me.” Sujin declared as she walked up to the group, putting distance between her and Seojun. “We just coincidentally met inside.” She stood resolutely with her shoulders squared, not showing an ounce of fear.

Seojun walked up and stood Sujin. “I am with her. So what? You got a problem?” He asked Chaeri.

Sujin’s face contorted in exasperation. Han Seojun, you idiot!

The boyfriend looked amused at the situation. “Aaah. I see now. You think that just because your boyfriend is a big shot idol that you can do whatever you want?”

“That’s not what happened. Your girlfriend here harassed me first.” Sujin explained coolly.

“Oppa, she’s lying.” The girl said. “I was just walking by and she started pulling my hair.”

Sujin scoffed. “What an obvious lie. You gonna believe that?”

“I don’t see why I have to believe you.” The boyfriend replied.

“Why would I attack her without any reason?”

“Oppa, she did it because I was a fan of Han Seojun.” Chaeri looked at Seojun, “Aren’t you going to defend your fans?”

Seojun tilted his head. “My fans don’t go around harassing my friends.”

Chaeri’s mouth fell open. “What?”

“Also, no real fan would damage their idol’s reputation but causing a scene like this. Don’t you know it reflects badly on me when say I have toxic fans?”

Chaeri’s face contorted in anger. Sujin gulped, “Han Seojun, shut up.”

“Oppa, you’re going to just let these people treat me this way?” Chaeri pulled at her boyfriend’s arm.

The boyfriend leaned down to Sujin, “Listen here ahjumma, you hurt my girlfriend. That action is going to come with consequences.”

Seojun grabbed the boy’s collar, pushing him away from Sujin. “You can’t call yourself a man if you threaten women like this.”

The boyfriend laughed, before he went in for the punch. Seojun dodged it and kicked the guy in the chest, sending him backwards. Chaeri squealed and jumped to the side. The other three thugs went for Seojun and Sujin.

Sujin brought one of them down with a spin kick in the face. The other two boys were on Seojun. Sujin kicked one of them away and dragged him further by his hair.

It was difficult for Sujin and Seojun to keep up. The thugs, while young, were still huge and more in number. Sujin took her time to size up her opponents, hitting and dodging accordingly. Seojun fought in his typical instinctive manner, taking many hits but also delivering his own.

One of the boys had Seojun backed up in the corner and by this time the boyfriend had gotten back up. Seojun didn’t see the boyfriend, but Sujin did. The boyfriend picked up a stick lying on the corner of the street by the garbage cans. Two thugs were on Seojun now, holding him back as the boyfriend raised the stick, aiming to swing it right in Seojun’s face.

In that moment, Sujin forgot all about fighting with strategy. All she could think of was saving Han Seojun. She ran into the boyfriend, taking him down with her entire body. She kicked him in the groin, causing so much pain that the boy’s face became red. Han Seojun, and the two thugs holding him back, were staring at her speechless.

“I won’t let you hit his face.” She told the boyfriend. Then, giving Seojun a sideways look she added, “It’s a hot commodity.”

Seojun took this opening to break free and kick the thugs away. Sujin swung the stick and hit one of them in the back. The last one standing decided to be smart and ran away.

Seojun and Sujin looked at each other, and the high schoolers lying on the ground, moaning in pain. They had won and it felt good. Seojun looked at something behind Sujin. She followed his line of sight and found Chaeri standing by the corner, recording everything on her phone.

Sujin walked up to her. “Give it while I’m being nice.”

“I’m recording this too you know.” Chaeri said insolently.

Sujin smiled. Then spun around to kick Chaeri, except she missed her face by an inch.

“Ah, how sad. I missed.”

Chaeri just stood, frozen in place. Seojun walked up, pulled the phone from her hand and smashed it to the ground.

“Am I going to hear about this online?” It was a rhetorical question. Said with such authority, in that deep angry baritone, that even Sujin felt intimidated.

Chaeri just shook her head.

“Good. Lets go, Kang Sujin.” Seojun led Sujin away by her arm.

“So, like I said. Remind me never to piss you off again.” Seojun repeated. Sujin chuckled. “Also…” Seojun rubbed the back of his head, “Thanks… for saving me back there.”

“Don’t mention it. After all, we have to protect his hot commodity.” Sujin teased. Instead of getting annoyed like she expected him to, Han Seojun smirked.

“You know I never said my face was a hot commodity. I only said it was a precious commodity.” Sujin stopped in her tracks as she realized he was right. But Seojun kept on walking smugly. “I guess you think I’m hot.” He called back to her.

“No way!” Sujin yelled as she ran after him. “No way!” ii.

Things had changed between Kang Sujin and Han Seojun. They were way past enmity now. In fact, Seojun couldn’t even remember the hate he used to have for her. They were also past the courteous co-existence they had sustained for a brief period where they acted polite and nice to one another which was more a sign of them being strangers than anything else.

Now Han Seojun and Kang Sujin really could say that they were friends. Hanging out together had become a weekly ritual. Almost always, it was prompted by something Jukyung or Suho did.

The night of Suho’s and Jukyung’s the engagement party, hosted by Suho’s father, they went to karaoke to sing their hearts out. As expected, Seojun was the better singer. But Sujin wasn’t exactly bad herself. Her song choices were about self-empowerment and having fun. Seojun chose soft, ballads that were clearly about Jukyung.

“One day, my songs will be on a karaoke machine too.” Seojun had wished as they had walked back home.

“And then I will sing it.” Sujin encouraged.

“And ruin it.”

Sujin punched him in the shoulder.

The time Suho and Jukyung announced their wedding on Jukyung’s channel, they went to an arcade. Of course, Sujin beat Seojun at every game.

“Ah-nee, how do you know how to play? All I ever saw you doing in school was study.”

“Just accept it, Han Seojun. I’m better than you.”

“At bragging maybe.”

The time Jukyung got drunk and went around hugging Han Seojun thinking he was Suho, they went for a drive on his bike.

Sujin had insisted that he teach her how to ride it.

“Aren’t you afraid?” Seojun remebered how terrified Jukyung had been when she first rode with him.

“Why would I be?” Sujin asked, confused.

She took to the bike quickly and soon was riding them both around the city without Seojun’s guidance.

“Not too bad, Kang Sujin.” Seojun was impressed. Sujin grinned triumphantly.

As per their agreement, the two looked out for each other when they were with the group, making sure their feelings weren’t too apparent. At the night of the engagement party, Sujin kept covering for Seojun when he didn’t participate in conversations as much as he usually did. She would answer for him or change the subject. On the same night, Seojun had been the one to sneak Sujin away when she was on the verge of breaking into tears when the couple was cutting the cake. No one had noticed the two heart broken friends that night. All eyes had been on Jukyung and Suho.

On the same night that Jukyung had gotten drunk, Han Seojun had been the one to distract Suah when she kept pushing Jukyung into dating a guy she knew from work. And on a separate occasion, when the group was out for dinner and had run into Suho’s father, Seojun had kept a firm hand on Sujin’s back when Lee Joheon spoke at length on how sad he was about her parents’ divorce.

As uncanny as it seemed, it was undeniable. Han Seojun and Kang Sujin were friends now. Oddly enough, no one seemed to have picked up on their closeness, despite the fact that they never hid it from anyone. Sujin mentioned that Seojun had taught her how to ride his bike but the statement went unnoticed for its inclusion of Han Seojun. All Suah and Jukyung cared about was how dangerous it was to drive bikes.

“Han Seojun! Stop being a bad influence on Sujin!” Jukyung had scolded.

“What did I do? She’s the one who wanted to learn. And she’s not so innocent either. Just ask her about how she beat me in jiujitsu.” Seojun had pointed a finger at her.

“You know Jiujitsu?” Suho had asked, ignoring the part about her beating Seojun.

“Yeah. We should spar sometime.”

And so things went on and Jukyung’s and Suho’s wedding date inched closer and closer. But Sujin felt nothing had really improved with her feelings about Suho.

“We should really get to the therapy part one of these days.” Sujin casually said over a cup of coffee. This time, they had opted for a quiet meeting in a café.

Seojun considered her request. “What should we talk about?”

They both drew a blank, neither able to come up with a good starting point. Their feelings were so complicated and tangled that neither knew were to start unraveling.

Sujin raised a hand, fingers spread out wide. “Five questions.” She said, and with each word she lowered a finger, “Who, What, When, Where and Why.” She said in English.

“What’s that?”

“Its how you gather basic information. You ask yourself these questions.” Sujin explained, translating in Korean, “Who is it? What is it? When was it? and Why was it?”

Seojun nodded. “Okay. You first.”

“Hmm… We can skip the Who since we already know who it is. So, what is it that I like about Lee Suho? Hmm…” Sujin had to think for a minute.

The first thing that popped into her mind was her father. She and Suho both had troubled relationships with their fathers and at the time, Sujin had felt that Suho could understand her better because because of this. But she couldn’t tell Han Seojun that. Having a dysfunctional family made her feel like a freak. She didn’t need Han Seojun knowing about her private problems, even if they were friends.

So instead of the truth, she said, “He was cool,”

Seojun scoffed. “Kang Sujin were you that shallow?”

Sujin looked at him flatly. “It wasn’t just that! It was… well, he was always cold to everyone else. But he still treated me better.” Sujin looked at her hands, nervously playing with her thumbs. “I guess I liked how he was with me. And I liked that he wasn’t shallow like most boys are. ”

That answer seemed more acceptable to Seojun. “I don’t think I can distill my feelings to just a couple of traits. I like everything about Lim Jukyung. The way she smiles, the way she ties up her hair, how kind and caring she is with everyone… she just has this warmth about her that just… draws you in.”

“I know what you mean.” Sujin agreed. But there was a little part of her that resented Seojun’s compliments of Jukyung. Wasn’t she kind and caring too? Didn’t she have any warmth?

Probably not. Her father’s voice said. Sujin pushed it away.

“When did you first start liking Lee Suho?” Seojun asked.

Sujin thought for a minute. “I don’t know. I just know that when I noticed I liked him, it felt like I had always liked him.” She sat up straight. “What about you? When did you start liking Jukyung?”

After a pause he replied, “When I started to get to know her. I can’t say exactly when… But I noticed my heart would act weird after she started teasing me about my underwear--”

“Say what now? What underwear?” Sujin perked up. It was at this moment that Han Seojun knew, that he had messed up. He could feel himself get red in the face.

“It was nothing. What I meant was—”

“Nononono, no. Han Seojun, you’re not getting out of this one. Tell me. What underwear?”

Seojun crossed his arms, “I’m not saying a word.”

Their therapy session had ended there. Sujin tried again and again to get Seojun to reveal what the underwear incident was but he kept his silence. He would die before he ever told anyone about how Jukyung had seen him dancing around in his cheetah print underwear.

Han Seojun still experienced PTSD when he heard “Okey Dokey yo!” from anywhere.

iii.

Seojun didn’t know how the fight began. They had met up for dinner after Sujin got off from work. She had taken up various part time jobs to pay the bills. With her being busy throughout the day, dinner was the only time they could meet.

They had been talking about Suho and Jukyung. Seojun normally danced around the topic of what Sujin had done back in high school now that they were friends. But this time she had brought it up herself.

“Do you remember that picture I took of you?”

“Yeah.” Seojun still remembered how flatly she had said You look cool. He had almost admired her audacity back then, and he did so more now.

“I traded it to get the info on Jukyung.” She admitted quietly.

“Ah, even back then my face was such a hot commodity.” Seojun said smugly.

Sujin made a face at him.

They joked about the past, about how Han Seojun hadn’t changed since then, about how Sujin had changed so much. Then, as they walked towards Sujin’s apartment, they got into the serious stuff. About how Sujin just disappeared after the truth about her was revealed, about how Seojun was right that she had only destroyed herself, and no one else.

“I wish I hadn’t done all that. Looking back, I want to kick myself.” Sujin had said.

“You should have shared, about what you were going through. Suah and Jukyung would have understood. I mean, having your father treat you the way he did… it must have made everything harder to deal with. Looking back, I might have acted better too, even helped y--”

Seojun suddenly noticed that Sujin wasn’t with him. She had stopped in her tracks and was glaring at him but Seojun couldn’t understand why.

“W-what do you mean my father’s treatment?” Sujin asked icily, her face was unreadable.

“Well… didn’t he used to beat you and pressure you for—”

“Shut up! Just shut up, Han Seojun!” Sujin suddenly freaked out. And it scared Seojun.

“What’s wrong?” He asked with concern. He moved towards her, but she moved back.

She looked at him coldly. “Who the hell told you about this? Was it Suho? It was Suho, wasn’t it? No one else knows besides him.”

Seojun hesitated. “Actually... that time when I met your mom—”

Sujin blinked rapidly. “So you’re saying that you’ve known about this all this time?”

“Kang Sujin, calm down its not a—”

Sujin spoke through clenched teeth, “What’s not a big deal? The fact that my family is broken or the fact that my father was an abusive asshole? What exactly about it is not a big deal, Han Seojun?”

Seojun was thoroughly confused now. “Sujin-ah.” he called out to her but she kept moving back with every step he took towards her. She was shaking quite visibly.

“Did you have fun, thinking I was so tragic and damaged? Did you have fun pitying me all this time? Did you—” Sujin’s eyes went wide as if she hit a realization. “Ya Han Seojun… did you become friends with me because you pitied me?” She said the word with such acidity that Seojun flinched.

It would be a lie to say it hadn’t influenced his opinion of her. But it wasn’t the only reason they were friends. Surely Sujin had to understand that.

“Sujin-ah—”

“It’s true, isn’t it?” Sujin’s lip quivered. “All this time, you’ve only treated me decently because you thought I was some tragic case—”

“You know that’s not true.” Seojun protested but Sujin wasn’t listening.

“—and here I was thinking we were actually friends. Han Seojun, would you have even been nice to me if you hadn’t known?”

“Does that matter?” Seojun asked, frustrated, “We’re friends now, aren’t we?”

That had been the wrong thing to say. Sujin’s eyes flamed as she suddenly switched. Gone was the shaking and the freaked out look. Sujin was now very calm and cold; calculating in her movements. She gave a sarcastic smile. “Ya Han Seojun. Do you know? I pity you too.”

“What?”

“Pathetically liking someone for so long, whining like a boy over everything, acting all childish, you think that makes you attractive?”

“Ya, Kang Sujin—” Seojun warned.

“I bet Jukyung pities you too.” Sujin stalked up to Seojun. “Ah, that loser, Han Seojun, until when is he going to be hung up on me? I bet that’s what she thinks every time she sees you.”

They glared at each other for the longest time. Maybe too long.

“Kang Sujin… you are seriously messed up.” Was all Seojun said before he walked away; from Sujin and the entire situation. Sujin’s eyes filled with tears which she furiously blinked away.

If Sujin had been more like Jukyung, she would have dealt with this situation maturely. Lim Kukyung would have faced her emotions and not taken Seojun’s sympathy as pity. Lim Jukyung would have been up front about how she felt and not pushed Seojun away. Lim Jukyung would have been better.

But Kang Sujin was not Lim Jukyung. Kang Sujin was a messed up girl.

iv.

“Has anyone heard from Sujin recently?” Jukyung asked the group. They were all gathered for lunch, all except Seojun and Sujin, both of whom had been absent these past couple of get-togethers.

“Wae? Has something happened?” Suah asked.

“Not really. But she hasn’t been replying as much to my texts.” Jukyung pouted.

“You know what Kang Su is like. She’s rarely online. Plus, she’s working all these jobs now.”

“She always replies to me though,” Jukyung muttered to herself as she looked at her chat with Sujin. The one Sujin hadn’t responded to since four days.

“Is Seojun not coming today either?” Taehoon asked Suho.

“Don’t know. He’s so busy with brand practice these days that he barely replies to me.”

“Guys! Sorry I’m late!” Sujin rushed towards the group.

“Kang Su!” Jukyung and Suah welcomed her.

“We were afraid you wouldn’t show up again.” Jukyung said, putting her arm through Sujin’s.

“Kang Su-ya,” Suah said, playfully nudging Sujin’s shoulder, “you’re all dressed up. Did you just come back from a date?” Indeed Sujin was wearing a sleek black pant suit with full makeup on.

“Who went on a date?” Seojun arrived but stopped when he saw Sujin. Sujin held her breath as she waited for him to say something.

“Our Kang Su.” Suah responded. Seojun just flicked a brow but betrayed no emotion. He took a seat besides Suho.

“Ya! It wasn’t a date. I just came back from an interview.” She grinned.

“Ooh! How did it go?”

Sujin kept her silence for a second before she finally burst with excitement, “I got it!” The girls squealed at the good news. “Its at this non-profit that works with providing clean water to under-developed countries.” She showed everyone the website for the company and the work that they did on her phone.

Everyone congratulated Sujin on her accomplishment. Even Seojun gave her a “Congratulations.” To which she thanked him.

“I’m glad you’re here. I didn’t think you’d come.” Suho told Seojun.

He wasn’t going to. But he had heard that Sujin hadn’t been present either and he had figured it would be okay for him to join everyone if she wasn’t there.

She should have been an actress, Seojun thought as he watched Sujin behave like nothing was wrong.

The conversation over lunch flowed easily as it usually did. Everyone laughed, joked and shared about what had happened since they last met. No one seemed to notice that Seojun and Sujin were not speaking directly to each other, even once. They only spoke to everyone else.

It was only when Seojun was leaving the men’s room that he found Sujin waiting for him and jumped in surprise.

“Ah, ggam-jjak-ee-ya!” Seojun held his chest in shock.

“Aww, the great Han Seojun get’s scared?”

“Only when confronted by pervert girls who stalk boys outside the washrooms.”

Sujin narrowed her eyes. “Shut up! I wasn’t stalking. I was only waiting to talk to you.”

“That’s equally worrying. What do you want?” He said dismissively.

Sujin handed him a keychain. It was his own face made in cartoon form. “Here. I know how much you love seeing yourself.”

“What’s this for?”

Sujin cleared her throat. “An apology. Mianhae, Han Seojun. Last time—”

“I don’t want to hear it.” He handed the keychain back to Sujin. She grabbed his arm as he tried to leave.

“At least hear me out.”

“No.” Seojun pushed her arm away.

Sujin’s lips tightened. She grabbed Seojun’s arm again, pulling him with brute strength. “Will you just listen to me you big baby! I’m trying to apologize.” She glared at him.

“Why? I thought you hated me.”

Sujin’s face softened. “I don’t hate you, Han Seojun.” She let go of his arm. “That time… when you started talking about my father, I just lost it. I haven’t actually told anybody about what he did to me. Not even Suah and Jukyung know. All they know is that he was tough on me.”

“Lee Suho knows.” Seojun accused.

“He figured it out on his own. I never actually told him. How could I?” Sujin felt ridiculous admitting it out loud, “How could I tell him that I don’t know what a happy family looks like? I see Jukyung with her dad and Suah with hers and how they have such good relationships, and I can’t imagine being the same way with my father. And that makes me feel like a freak. People already give me weird looks because of my parents’ divorce. If they knew about my father, they’d think that I was crazy… and maybe I am, who knows.”

Seojun softened. “You’re not crazy, Sujin-ah.”

There it was, that pity on Han Seojun’s face. Sujin hated it but she had come today to this lunch only to apologize to him and that is what she was going to do.

“I am, Han Seojun. Why else would I have said all of those mean things?” Sujin’s voice shook. Seojun moved to hug her but she stepped away. Him comforting her would be too much, she would fall to pieces if he did. She had to hold herself together, on her own. “I’m sorry Han Seojun. I didn’t mean any of it. Not a single word.”

Seojun nodded. “I know.” He felt like a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders and only then did he notice how bothered he really had been about their fight.

“You guys not coming?” Suho asked as he passed by. Seojun and Sujin straightened themselves up and joined the others.

They found the girls giggling at something on Jukyung’s phone.

“What’s funny?”

“Ya Kang Sujin, your nose looks so big in this!” Suah commented. Jukyung turned the phone to Sujin. It was the video of the live event they had done.

“Aish!” Sujin said disapprovingly. “I look so weird in this video.”

Suho and Taehoon leaned over and laughed too as Sujin robotically read off the comments in the video.

“Maybe we can go Seojun’s makeup next.” Jukyung suggested.

“I’m a celebrity, Lim Jukyung.” He said haughtily, pulling the lapels of his jacket, “You can’t just have me on any show.”

Sujin wrinkled her nose at Seojun, “This coming from a guy who didn’t even know the difference between ppt and fitting.”

“That never happened!” Seojun contested. Everyone else laughed.

“Sujin-ah. Maybe I can have you on as a guest next time.” Jukyung suggested.

“Sure.” Sujin put her arm around Jukyung and whispered audibly, “And let’s do it when Suho isn’t around.” The girls winked to each other.

Suho smacked Sujin’s hand away from Jukyung’s shoulder. “Keep your hands off my girlfriend.”

“Sure. But I can’t guarantee she’ll keep her hands off me.” Sujin grinned evilly. Suho’s wide eyed, worried, expression made Jukyung laugh.

Han Seojun fell on his face for the umpteenth time as he tried to hit the ball that Sujin had served. He was lucky they were all on the beach and his face was hitting soft sand instead of concrete.

“Ya, who’s idea was it to play volleyball?” Seojun asked as he brushed himself off.

“Quit being a sore loser, Han Seo!” Sujin called from the girl’s side of the net.

“Just you watch. I will make you eat your words!”

Of course, the boys lost. Suho was too distracted by Jukyung. Taehoon played bad on purpose because Suah said she wanted to win. Chorong was a bad at playing in general. The only two people taking this seriously were Han Seojun and Kang Sujin who ran around covering up for their team mates, as if their lives depended on winning. Sujin in particular refused to let Seojun get a single goal.

“You must really hate Han Seojun, huh?” Suah asked once the game was over.

“No. I just don’t like to lose.”

“Look at her, it’s like she’s going to war.” Jukyung laughed at the fire in Sujin’s eyes.

“Did you piss Kang Sujin off?” Taehoon was asking Seojun on the other side as the boys drank water.

“Nah, she’s just like that in general.” Seojun panted, still exhausted from the game.

A crowd of girls had gathered around their little game, drawn towards Suho and Seojun playing. They had cheered the boys on during the game and now they gravitated towards the two, hoping to get a chance to talk to them.

Suho had brushed them off in his usual rude manner. Seojun had been obliging, especially when they recognized who he was. He patiently signed autographs but couldn’t take pictures since his company didn’t allow them.

“Han Seojun, we have to get back.” Suah had come over to inform him.

“Yeah, just one minute.” The fans kept coming and coming. Seojun realized that maybe he should tell them he has to go. But as much as he wanted, he couldn’t say no to the hopeful girls who had liked the music that he made and had decided his signature was worth something.

“Han Seojun hurry up! We have to move!” Jukyung called.

“Just a second!”

Suho came over and rudely pushed through the crowd of girls. “Yah! Don’t be like that to my fans.” He tried dragging Seojun away but Seojun dodged him and the girls quickly pushed him back.

“Yah! Haven’t you girls had enough?!” Sujin’s voice boomed over the crowd, terrifying everyone. “And you girls over there!” Sujin pointed, “I saw you two return twice! You’re planning on selling those autographs, aren’t you?”

“Ya Kang Sujin—” Seojun began to protest.

“Don’t piss me off.” Sujin warned, “Our trip isn’t a place for you to have fan meetings.” She grabbed Seojun’s wrist and dragged him away before he could object.

The fangirls whispered to each other angrily, but none dared stand in Sujin’s way as she took Seojun away from them.

“Mwo-ya.”

“Who is that girl?”

“What the hell?”

“Come on, I’m hungry. We should get back to the resort.” Suho said when Seojun had joined them. He and Taehoon picked up their things and loaded them in their car.

At a distance, near a food cart, stood Kim Chorong. He watched as everyone got ready to leave. He could see Suah and Jukyung clinging to their boyfriends, his own posse goofing around and Han Seojun laughing and joking with his arm around Suho.

“Did you see how all those girls swarmed around me?” Seojun asked Jukyung. “Ya, aren’t you lucky to have a guy like me as your friend?”

“What lucky? You wasted all our time!” Jukyung scolded.

“Ah, I just can’t turn off my charms.”

Sujin scoffed, pulling a disgusted face, “Where? Where are these charms?” She put her hand over her eyes and mimicked searching.

“Right here!” Seojun replied, puffing his chest. “See how charming I am!”

“As charming as a sea louse maybe.”

“Yah!” The group laughed as Seojun pointed accusingly at Sujin.

Chorong had watched as Seojun pointed at Sujin in a huff while everyone laughed. It was the liveliest that Chorong had ever seen Han Seojun be.

“Chagi, what are you doing here all alone?” Chorong’s girlfriend came up to him.

“Geunyang.” Chorong put his arm around his girlfriend and walked towards the group.

They all went back to their resort, a beautiful location that Suho had paid for as this was the first time that everyone was going together since high school. They were all given shared rooms. Naturally, Chorong shared his with Seojun.

“Han Seojun,” Chorong began as Seojun changed out of his shirt, “I’m really happy for you.”

“Huh? What for?”

“You always used to complain about hanging out with everyone, but I don’t hear you do that anymore.” Chorong said sentimentally.

Seojun blinked. “Kim Chorong did you drink too much sea water? What kind of a weird thing is that to say?”

Chorong came up and hugged the half-naked Seojun, who balked at the gesture. “What the hell?!”

“Do you know how worried I was about you?” Chorong, with his enormous size, did not notice how Han Seojun desperately struggled to break free from his grip.

“Ya! You pervert, lemme go!”

“Ah-nee, look at you now. You said you would never go on an overnight trip with Suho and Jukyung, and yet here you are.”

Seojun stopped struggling. “What?”

It was odd that out of all people, Chorong had been the one to notice. “I’m so happy for you Han Seojun. Th—”

“Han Seojun, Jukyung’s asking if you would—whatthehell?” Sujin burst in and went still when she saw a half dressed Seojun being held by a sentimental looking Chorong.

Sujin betrayed no emotion. Just wordlessly took out her phone and promptly snapped a photo.

Han Seojun tried to push Chorong away, “No! Ya! Don’t you dare!”

“Jukyung is asking if you will sing songs for us. Quickly get dressed and come over, okay?” Sujin went out and Seojun caught a glimpse of her evil smile as she did.

“Yah! Kim Chorong!” Seojun shouted as Chorong finally let him go.

Of course, Seojun would perform. He always did when Jukyung asked. The group clapped at the end of the first song but the only reaction Seojun cared for was Jukyung. As usual, he found her engrossed with Lee Suho instead of him. Seojun couldn’t help but stare at the two.

“You sounded good.” Sujin came out of nowhere, blocking his view of Jukyung. Seojun knew, she was doing it on purpose.

“Too obvious?” He asked quietly.

“Too obvious. Suah almost noticed.” Sujin moved to block Suah’s line of vision to Seojun’s face.

“Thanks, I owe you one.” Seojun said.

“Pay me back with a song then.” Sujin rolled on her heels.

“Nope. Only Jukyung gets to request songs.”

She pfft-ed through her lips, “Mwo-ya. How stingy.” She turned on her heels.

“What song?” Seojun asked. Sujin smiled and turned back.

“You Were Beautiful by Day6.”

“Why not something by my band?” Seojun sounded almost insulted.

“I like Day6 better.” Sujin teased.

“I expected better taste from you, Kang Sujin.” Seojun adjusted the tuning of his guitar, testing the chords.

“Its my goodbye.” Sujin explained. “I’m moving on from Lee Suho.”

“Haven’t I heard that before?” Seojun said skeptically.

“Its for real this time.” Sujin said. Seojun looked up at her determined face.

“You’re serious.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yeah. It’s been long enough now. This is my way of making it official. So do a good job, okay?” Sujin walked away.

“I bet I’ll sing it better!” Seojun called after her.

“We’ll see!”

She hadn’t looked at Suho even once during his performance. But then, she hadn’t looked at anyone, just stared out the window. By the end she was tearing up. Seojun saw Suho happen to look over at Sujin.

He’s going to see her cry.

Seojun began to play his guitar loudly and messily, “Yeppeosseo! Yeppeosseo! Neon neomu yeppeosseo!” Everyone winced as he sang, or rather shouted, at the wrong note. But the abrupt bad singing had its intended effect. Suho’s attention was on Han Seojun. It took a second for Sujin to get the message. She sat up straight and wiped her face.

“Han Seojun! Stop it!” Suah yelled and Seojun stopped. “Are you in a rock band?”

Sujin sent him a grateful smile.

“It’s a totally new style of singing. You guys don’t like?” Seojun asked.

“No!” Came the resounding response.

Sujin’s was the only voice that said. “Yes!”

Seojun pointed his guitar at Sujin, head tilted back. “Better than Day6?”

“Much better!” Sujin grinned.

vi.

“YES! I WIN! I WIN!” Seojun ran around the court, pumping his fist in the air as Kang Sujin stared with a flat face and her hands on her hips. After having lost at nearly everything to Kang Sujin, Han Seojun had finally discovered something she was bad at.

“Are you really that happy?” She said, her upper lip pulled up in disdain.

“Ya! How can someone be so bad at basketball? You didn’t score a single goal!” Seojun’s eyes were wide with pure joy, his cheeks uplifted in a wide smile.

“Stop making fun of me.” Sujin fumed. She hated losing.

“I mean, I’ve never seen anyone lose so bad!” He laughed while pointing at Sujin, relishing in her first defeat. He knew he was great at basketball, but he hadn’t expected Sujin to be that bad. Sujin looked away, puffing up her cheeks.

“Zero!” He made a circle from his finger and thumb, “You got zero! I’ve seen worse players score more on accident!”

“Ah shut up!” She stomped her foot, "I was just off my game!”

“Off your game? Wae? Was my handsome face too distracting for you?” Seojun expected Sujin to come after him with a flying kick, or a punch in the shoulder or even a pithy retort. What he didn’t expect was the deep blush that spread across her cheeks. She looked around, choosing to look anywhere but him.

“Oh my God, jinjja? You got distracted by my face?” Seojun moving to look at her face better.

“Ah-nee-godun!” Sujin yelled, dodging his gaze. “Who would get distracted by those mean eyes?”

“Oh, so it was my eyes?” Seojun purred.

“As if!”

“Ooooooh! You’re even blushing!” He teased.

“I’m red from playing!” Sujin spun around and walked away, leaving Seojun laughing.

“I’m joking! I’m joking! I know it’s not that. Come back Sujin-ah!”

They changed out of their sweaty gym clothes. Seojun was wearing his typical brown coat over black pants and a black turtle-neck sweater. He was ready before Sujin so he waited for her outside.

She came out all dolled up, her hair brushed straight, fresh makeup on her face. She had a white coat over a pretty, pale pink dress. Seojun didn’t understand why she had dressed up so brightly today. She even had heels on. Sujin had denied any special reason when he had asked before so he figured this was just a girl thing that he would never understand.

They had only walked a couple of steps when Sujin stopped in her tracks. “Ah, shit. I think I forgot my phone inside.”

“Why are you so distracted today? Where is your head, Kang Sujin?” Seojun complained. Sujin ran back inside to get her phone.

“Got it!” She came back running.

They walked over to the café that they frequented to the point where the barista recognized them now.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t go to the amusement park like you wanted.” Seojun apologized.

Sujin waved a hand dismissively, “Doesn’t matter. It was just a throw away suggestion.”

“But I understand why you wanted to go there instead.”

“You do?” Sujin asked with a tinge of worry.

“Its because you didn’t want me to find out you were bad at basketball, didn’t you?” Seojun snapped his fingers.

Sujin’s face fell. She clicked her tongue in disappointment.

“I’m right, aren’t I?”

Sujin replied sarcastically, “Ah, you’re totally right Han Seojun. I am so immature that all I care about is winning against a guy who thought Einstein was an appliance.”

“That happened only once.” Seojun defended.

A silence fell between them as their order came. Wordlessly, Sujin drank her iced latte and Seojun sipped his iced Americano. They often had these moments where neither would speak. But it was a comfortable silence. Sometimes Seojun and Sujin just enjoyed each other’s company without feeling the need to talk.

“You know we never finished our five questions.” Sujin reminded.

“Oh wow. That feels like it was so long ago.” Seojun leaned his head back as he tried to remember. “We covered the When. Where… I don’t remember where I fell in love with Jukyung. I think it was the moment in school where she was making fun of my…” Seojun cleared his throat.

“One of these days I’ll find out what that incident was, Han Seojun.” Sujin claimed.

“But not today.” He smiled. “So yeah, I think it was in school. What about you?”

“I think it was at the tutoring centers. I used to go there to study. My father had hit me, and I was in a strange place at that time. Suho comforted me and I guess that was when I realized I liked him. Now you, why did you like Lim Jukyung?”

Seojun leaned back and thought for the longest time. “She was… unexpected. I only started to pester her because I thought she was dating Suho.”

“Yeah, I remember that pestering part.”

Ya, Han Seojun are you a gangster?! Whiplash. Every time Seojun remembered that moment he felt whiplash.

“Since I hated Suho at that time, I had expected her to be hateful too. I thought she was just some vain, mindless girl but… she was the complete opposite. She was kind and thoughtful. She had a good heart and that made her beautiful to me. With or without makeup.” Seojun paused, then suddenly chuckled.

“What?”

“It’s funny. Before, I was never able to pin down what I liked about her. My feelings always seemed so complicated. But now that I see it… it feels so obvious.”

Seojun didn’t notice Sujin looking down at her hands, nervously rubbing them together, “Seojun, do you ever think you coul—” She spoke just when Seojun did.

“What did you like about Suho—oh sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“No, no.” Sujin shook her head. “I wasn’t saying anything. You were asking why I liked Lee Suho? Umm…” Sujin thought about it.

“Lee Suho, has never once liked a girl. Not before Jukyung, at least. There was a time when I was his only friend in school. And I thought… I misunderstood, his kindness as interest. I’ve always been pushed to get the number one position, you know? I always had to be number one. And when I thought that the guy that liked no one, liked me… it made me feel like I was number one, even if I ranked low on the grade sheet.” Sujin looked out the glass wall of the café, out on the street where people were walking, and it was slightly drizzling.

“When he found out that my father hit me, I thought he would see me as a crazy person, or pity me, or judge me for hating my father. But he never did. He only comforted me. He just… understood. And it was the first time that I felt that there was someone else who could understand me and understand what I was going through. That’s why I liked Lee Suho.”

Sujin looked back at Seojun. His mouth had shrunken into a small curve.

“But now he’s just annoying.” Sujin said in a lighter tone, “I mean, at a certain point you start hating people when they appear too perfect, isn’t that so?”

Seojun attempted a smile but it was weak.

“I’m happy now, Seojun-ah. I’m happy that I’m not with Suho. I think its for the best. If I think about it. Suho and I are too similar. We didn’t need more of the same. We needed someone who would help us change. Jukyung helped Suho do that. I could never have.”

“That’s a healthy way to look at it. Though I still think I’m perfect for Jukyung.” Seojun said smugly.

Sujin scoffed. “You think you’re perfect for every girl.”

“Where’s the lie?”

“Here! Yeogi! Here’s the lie.” Sujin tapped her finger on Seojun’s side of the table.

“Ah, Kang Sujin. You have no taste.” Seojun squinted his eyes at her in mock pity.

“And you have the IQ of a sloth.”

“I don’t need a high IQ. My greatest strength is my charm.”

“You keep mentioning this charm but I never see it.” Sujin put her hand over her eyes and began to search around.

They bickered in the café till the barista had to remind them, that they were being too loud. The banter continued as Seojun walked her all the way to her apartment. Throughout the way, Seojun could notice Sujin acting nervously; playing with the hem of her dress, combing her hair again and again, wiping her sweaty palms against her coat when she thought he wasn’t looking. He felt she had something to say to him but he didn’t want to ask what it was. If Kang Sujin had something to say, she said it.

Then, out of the blue, she swiveled on her heel to stand right in front of him.

“Ya, Han Seojun…”

“What?”

Sujin gulped. “Ah-nee-da. It’s nothing.” She turned her back to him.

“Whaaaat?” Seojun whined. “You’ve been fidgeting this while time so you definitely have something to say. What is it?”

“I forgot.” Sujin said, walking ahead, biting her lip.

“Mwo-ya…” Seojun let it go. She probably had more to say about Lee Suho and he wasn’t in any mood to hear it.

“Good night, Sujin-ah.” Seojun said when they reached her building.

“D-Do you wanna come up?” Sujin asked, stuttering a bit.

“Nah. I should go. I have an early day tomorrow.”

“Ah, okay.”

“Chalga.” Seojun waved goodbye. He had not walked more than ten steps when Sujin called out to him.

“Han Seojun!”

“What?”

Sujin hesitated. “B-Bye!”

Seojun chuckled. “Mwo-ya. She’s so weird.”

Sujin saw him wave and then leave. “If he turns, then I’ll tell him.” She told herself, trying to work up the courage to say what she had been meaning to the entire night.

But he never turned. Seojun just kept on walking and walking till he disappeared into the crowd.

“I like you, Han Seojun.” Sujin confessed to the wind. “I like you a lot.”

vii.

Han Seojun had to be absent for the whole month due to his idol duties. Sujin was glad for his absence. It had given her time to set her head straight about her feelings. She could still vividly remember, that last time she had ever confessed to a guy and that was back in high school. She clearly recalled how Suho had looked at her with disgust when she had said, or rather declared that he would have liked her if she had confessed first.

No. I wouldn’t have.

“Aish! What was I thinking saying all of those things?” She pulled at her hair as she rolled over in her bed. The humiliation of demanding that Suho break up with Jukyung, and ridiculously saying that she would toss Jukyung aside for him was too much. On top of that, she had tried to kiss Suho and he had pushed her away, repulsed. That in and of itself made her stomach ache with embarrassment.

She had a good heart and that made her beautiful to me. With or without makeup.

“Ah out of all people why him?! Why another guy who loves Lim Jukyung?! What the hell is wrong with me?!” Sujin groaned, rolling around in her bed over and over. Was she obsessed with men who were into Jukyung? Sujin felt frustrated with herself and wanted to throw her heart out.

She just has this warmth about her that just… draws you in.

Kind, caring, genuine, warm; none of those things describe me. Good heart? A single search on the internet would reveal just how good my heart is. Betraying my best friend and ruining all of my friendships in the process… who would say I have a good heart?

Sujin couldn’t compete with the shadow cast by Lim Jukyung. Even if Seojun did start to like her, Lim Jukyung would always be his first love. And just like always, Sujin would be second.

Sujin felt a familiar jealousy creep in; a resentment, a hate, an anger. It was history repeating itself. It was Lim Jukyung again. Why? Why did it have to be her? She and Suho had ten years worth of history between them and even that couldn’t compare to how he felt for Jukyung. Sujin and Seojun had only a year worth of friendship, a quarter of which included Seojun hating her.

It was a dark feeling. A heavy feeling. Like a weight in her chest. Sujin carried it with her whereever she went. She was supposed to meet everyone today. Seojun was suppsed to be back. She felt like she would be a coward if she didn’t go. But she felt like she would hate Jukyung more if she saw her. In the end she did go, and that weight in her chest went with her.

Jukyung was outside alone when Sujin saw her. She was finishing up a call.

Why? Why did it have to be her? Whywhywhy?

Sujin stopped in her tracks. No. She thought resolutely. She would not make the same mistake again. She would not let her feelings take over her judgement. She would not lose her friend again. As much as she loved Han Seojun, she loved her friendship with Lim Jukyung even more.

“Sujin-ah! You’re here-Oh?”

Sujin enveloped Jukyung in a massive hug, almost on the verge of tears. Jukyung hugged her back, confused.

“You know I love you, right?” Sujin said.

“Dangyunhaji! I love you too.” Jukyung hugged her tighter.

“I’ll always be a good friend to you, Jukyung-ah. I promise.” Sujin sniffed.

“Oh, are you crying?”

“No, there’s just something in my eye.” Sujin quickly wiped her face while still holding Jukyung so that she wouldn’t see her cry.

But before she could part, something pulled her collar from behind.

An irritated Suho stood, still tugging at her collar, “You’re not stealing my fiancée.”

“I bet she’d prefer me to you.”

“Okay! Okay! No fighting!” Jukyung declared a ceasefire.

“Are we fighting?” Seojun came up, putting his arm casually around Suho. “If it’s a fight, my bet’s on Sujin.”

“Wae. You think she’s better than me?” Suho asked.

“She’s scarier than you.”

“You traitor.” Suho released himself from Seojun’s side hug and went inside, grumbling. Jukyung followed after him.

“What was that about?” Seojun asked Sujin.

Sujin looked at him. His delicate, boyish features, his mean looking eyes that carried a surprising warmth. Her heartbeat wildly like a hummingbird. Sujin felt like she could spend an entire day just staring at his face. And then she felt it again, the quiet darkness that reminded her that she could never be with him. Quite suddenly, Sujin spun around and kicked Han Seojun in the back.

“Yah! What was that for?!” Seojun yelled.

“For being you.” She said and walked in, leaving Seojun bruised and confused.

viii.

You were pretty

The feeling of not wanting anything more

Moments that only you gave

Everything, everything

Everything has passed

But you were so pretty

Seojun hummed the song as he finalized the playlist for Jukyung’s wedding. Of course, he was going to perform at Jukyung’s wedding. It only made sense given his connection to Jukyung and Suho. The fact that Suho’s father was an important man at Move Entertainment also helped make things official.

A part of Han Seojun had wished that Jukyung hadn’t asked him. He was terrified of her wedding day; terrified of what his heart might do to him, terrified that he might feel compelled to run away with her in front of everyone.

Right now Seojun was calm. But it felt like it was the calm before the storm.

“Memories of me, have probably become, a thing of the past for you too, whatever I saw to you, it will all be something, in the past.”

“What’s that? New song?” His band mate asked when he overheard Seojun singing to himself.

“Hmm? No, its Day6.” The song had been stuck in his head since the day he had sung it for Sujin.

“You’re going to play a cover for your friend?”

“Yeah.” It would be his send off to Jukyung. Like Kang Sujin, Seojun was going to put an end to his chapter with Jukyung.

His bandmate put the song on their speaker. After the first verse he declared, “Yah! You can’t play a breakup song at a wedding.”

“Is it too obvious? I was hoping I could get away with it.” Seojun scratched the back of his head, stretching. He had been on his computer for hours now.

“Take it off. Choose something else.”

Seojun went back through his list of songs that he wanted to play. There was one other song that he had discovered recently by a disbanded group. He had really connected with the lyrics and it wasn’t a breakup song.

“How about this?” Seojun played it.

“Yeah, that’s perfect. Use that for the couple dance.” His bandmate said.

The anticipation of the pain kept Seojun up all night. He worried about how he might behave or what might happen. The next day he woke up grouchy and depressed.

“Woah! Why do you look like a ghost?” His bandmate had said when Seojun arrived that morning. He would be going to the wedding with his band, given that they were performing. This might have been easier if he had gone with his friends.

Don’t worry. I’m here if you need me. Sujin had texted that morning. But Seojun was done relying on Sujin like a crutch. He would deal with things on his own. He didn’t want Sujin to think that all he was good for was complaining about his broken heart.

Seojun waited for the pain to hit when they arrived at the location but it didn’t. The wedding planner helped Seojun and his band set up along with members of Seojun’s own staff. When everything was good to go, Seojun took his leave to meet Jukyung in the bridal room where everyone was taking pictures with her.

Here it comes. The pain. How would it feel? Would Seojun cry again?

“Seojun-ah! You’re here!” Jukyung said. She looked stunning in her beautiful white dress. “Hurry! Get in the picture!”

Everyone was there, already positioned for the shot. Seojun joined Sujin to the side. She was wearing a tasteful black pant suit that fit her well. She was wearing makeup which Seojun noticed looked similar to one of Jukyung’s tutorials.

“How does it feel?” He whispered to Sujin.

“Meh.” She replied. “You?”

It was strange. Seojun didn’t feel anything. “Oddly enough, I feel fine.” Surely he was in shock. The pain would hit any time soon.

It was a while before the pictures were done. Seojun’s cheeks felt sore from all of the smiling.

“Come with me to see Suho.” Sujin held up her arm and Seojun took it. She escorted him to where Suho was receiving his guests.

“Lee Su! Congratulations!” Sujin hugged him. Seojun did the same.

“Yah! I can’t believe we’re old enough to get married.” Seojun commented. Suho laughed.

Chorong and the Seojun Squad came over too, patting a blushing Suho on the back.

Seojun couldn’t help but think that Seyeon would have loved to have seen this. Sujin sensed his sadness and bumped shoulders with him.

“Okay?”

“Uh-huh.” Seojun smiled. Oddly enough he was. The pain still hadn’t hit.

A couple of girls walked up to him and asked him whether he really was the Han Seojun they were fans of.

“Of course!” Seojun puffed his chest and signed their autographs. He couldn’t see it but he could feel Sujin’s disgusted gaze on his back. When they were gone, Seojun turned to Sujin with an arrogant grin.

“Ah, I hope more people won’t bother me for my autograph.” He said in fake modesty.

“You should be grateful to have any fans.” She scoffed at him.

“Ugh. You’re too mean, Sujin-ah.” Seojun pouted.

“Ugh. You’re too childish, Seojun-ah.” Sujin mimicked him.

“Um. Excuse me.” A shy looking girl approached Seojun.

“Oh, you want an autograph too?” Seojun had a pen ready. Sujin gave him her most scathing side eye.

“Um actually—”

“You want a picture too? Sorry but I’m not allowed to take pictures at the moment. But I’ll sign if you like.”

The girl blushed deeply. “No, um—”

“Oh I get it.” Seojun swiped his hair dramatically from his forehead. “You’re here to confess to me. Well then I should let you know—”

“They’dlikeyoubackonstage!” The girl quickly blurted. “They’d like you to join your band. The ceremony is about to begin.”

Sujin laughed uproariously, that clear gurgle of pure, high pitched happiness that Seojun often enjoyed. But not in this moment. Not when his arrogance had been so efficiently deflated.

“Sure. I’ll be right there.” He mumbled to the girl who scurried away. Sujin was still laughing. “Found that funny, did you?” Seojun said, but it was not a reprimand. He liked that she was happy.

“Yes.” Sujin wiped away tears.

“You’re going to regret making fun of me when I perform.” He said, comically pulling the lapels of his jacket before leaving.

The lights dimmed as the wedding began. The Master of Ceremonies kicked things off, guiding everyone through everything. The band only played instrumental now. Suho entered first. Jukyung entered after him, looking every bit the ethereal angel that she was.

The couple exchanged their wows and drank the traditional wine. They then bowed to each other and bowed to their guests. Even in the darkness, Seojun could pick out Sujin. From the light glittering off her cheeks he could tell she was crying. He was too. But these were happy tears. His friends were about to make a new journey in their life together and he was happy for them. Truly. That pain he had dreaded over Jukyung’s wedding never did show up. Perhaps it never would. All he could feel was excitement for his closest friends.

Seojun had only one regret, that Seyeon hadn’t been able to see this moment. Seyeon’s was the one absence he always felt. In that moment, Han Seojun swore that he saw Seyeon among the guests. He saw his friend smile to Lee Suho’s and then to him. But Seojun blinked and Seyeon was gone but Seojun would keep that image of Seyeon similing with him forever.

Once the formal ceremony was over, it was time for the real party to begin. Seojun and his band turned up the performance, raising the mood of the room. People danced and sang along with them as they played so well that Sujin realized she could no longer make fun of Seojun when he bragged about his band.

The band then slowed things down, the set finally reaching the song Seojun was excited to play. He emptied his mind of everything but that one song and how it made him feel. This was for Suho and Jukyung and he was going to give his best performance tonight.

The bride and groom took center stage and swayed as Seojun played a softer version of Haru by a lesser known band, Royal Pirates. His rich baritone filled the room as everyone listened, entranced.

“You’re not a traditional beauty, but I like you, you who gets more attractive everyday.”

Seojun had never understood why people considered her attractive. To him, beauty had never mattered. But as he had gotten to know her, he found her to be more beautiful that how others described her.

“You don’t have a feminine voice, but the more I hear it, the more I get attached.”

He could hear her now, scolding him, yelling at him, throwing witty remarks at him that caused him whiplash, which was just his heart beating really fast.

“I can’t call you often, but I always miss you. Each minute, each second. Yeah-yeah.”

When he thought about it, they never really hung out as much as he did with Suho or his Seojun Squad. Most of the time Seojun was busy with work and so was she. But he still looked forward to the times he would meet her again.

“An entire day would pass just by looking at you. If I look at you, I can’t do anything else. Oooooooh. An entire day would pass just by thinking of you. I won’t be able to sleep at thoughts of you. But I can’t help it, an entire day would pass just because of you.”

Time did fly when they were together. Whether he liked her or hated her, he had to admit. She was never boring. Even through the mundane stuff, she always kept his attention. With her brows furrowed as she concentrated, her mouth turned like an ‘n’. He smiled whenever he thought about it.

“We have so many differences. But you fill up what I lack. No matter how much I see you, you’re always beautiful. No matter what anyone says.”

She was always ahead of him; so much smarter and stronger. Beating him at everything. Well, everything except—wait. He never played basketball with Jukyung.

Seojun missed a note. The guitar twanged awkwardly as he stopped singing. His hands were shaking but he didn’t have time to digest what had just happened. The moment only lasted a half-second; Seojun had recovered quickly and continued. No one paid attention to his little mess up, but his hands were still shaking, and his heart felt like it would burst.

He couldn’t think about it. But how couldn’t he? This song had been for her all along. He had been staring at Kang Sujin the entire time he was performing, without even knowing it.

The base guitarist for his band leaned over to him when the song was done.

“Thought you lost your footing for a bit there.”

“You noticed? Did anyone else did?”

“Nah, I think you’re safe. But are you okay? You’re shaking.”

“Nothing.” Seojun said, more to himself, “Its… its nothing.”

ix.

He never got to see her again at the wedding. The band was surrounded by fans once they finished so they had to be escorted out. Their food had been arranged separately for privacy. By the time Seojun got the chance to break free, Sujin, along with most of the guests, had left.

Which was good because he needed to settle himself before he said anything to anyone. He couldn’t make heads or tails of what had happened.

“I like Kang Sujin? Ridiculous. Totally, ridiculous. This would never happen!”

Be that as it may, his heart still acted strangely when he got a text from her asking if he was okay. She was worried about him since Jukyung and Suho were now married. He told her tersely that he was busy and couldn’t meet. Then threw his phone away when he realized he actually really wanted to meet her.

It was the first time that I felt that there was someone else who could understand me and understand what I was going through.

Seojun could still remember his irritation when Sujin had told him why she liked Lee Suho. He had resented the fact that yet another girl saw Lee Suho as perfect. How could Han Seojun ever compare to the perfectly perfect Lee Suho? He and Sujin had ten years between them and a shared tragedy with their fathers that Seojun didn’t have.

Ah-nee, can’t I be someone who understands? Can’t she see that I get her too?

“Ridiculous. Why would I want her to think I understand her? Ridiculous.”

If Han Seojun had to answer the What, When, Where and Why of his feelings, he would not be able to put it into words. His feelings were intense and complicated. Too complicated for even him to comprehend. Which is why the braincell that he shared with Suho decided that he must be mistaken and that he didn’t actually have any feelings for Sujin.

“Ah-ne-da. I must have been overwhelmed because of Jukyung. Yes, that must be it. It must be a defense mechanism. I’m only thinking about her to protect myself, because I’m still not over Jukyung.”

It made sense. She was the only other girl he was close to in his squad, and they had been hanging out together more than they used to. His heart must have just gotten confused for a moment. Yes, that was it and nothing more.

The group did not meet each other for a while. Suho and Jukyung had gone off to their honeymoon. Suah and Taehoon had their own things. Seojun only met up with Chorong and Co. but his heart was never in those meetings.

He wouldn’t meet up with her. She tried texting and calling but he always gave her an excuse.

Why did we start meeting so much in the first place? He hadn’t noticed when it had happened, but Sujin had become someone he had come to rely on and this he only noticed when he started avoiding her.

“Seojun, you’re not coming to the flower festival?” Chorong asked, shaking him out of his thoughts.

“Huh? What flower festival?”

“Ah-nee, where is your mind these days? You attend it every year! Did you forget?”

Oh right. Seojun always did like to see the flower exhibitions held once a year. He always got flowers for his mother and sister when he went. It may have seemed like a ridiculous hobby for a boy to be so interested in flowers. But Seojun unabashedly liked them and of course, Chorong and Co. were always there to go with him.

“Of course I’m going to attend. Wae?”

“Sujinnie was asking if she could tag along with us. Suah and Taehoon are not around so she has no one to go with.”

Sujinnie?! Seojun blinked rapidly. “Ya, since when are you and Kang Sujin close?”

“Waegurae? Aren’t we all friends with her now? Did something happen?”

Seojun put on a straight face, “Ah-nee!” He exclaimed in a pitch too high, “Nothing happened. I’m just surprised, as all.”

“Aigoo. Did you guys fight? Sujin did say you haven’t been replying to her texts recently.”

Seojun tried hiding his curiosity, “You’ve spoken to her?” He said, as nonchalantly as he could, which wasn’t nonchalant at all.

“Of course. We all had drinks yesterday.”

“What?! Why the hell did you guys meet her and not me?”

“Seojun, she did text you about it.” One of his friends pointed out.

“Yeah! And why are you acting so weird? Do you hate Kang Sujin again?” Chorong asked.

“Ya! Don’t hate her! We like her now!”

“Yes!” Half the group said together.

“Arasso! Arasso! Calm down.” Seojun waved at them to chill. It wasn’t as if he minded that Kang Sujin was hanging out with his friends. But he did feel a sense of betrayal that he didn’t know about it.

“So, how about it? Will you go?” Chorong asked.

The flower festival was an exhibition where all flower vendors came over to show off their best products. People looking for suppliers of flowers and the public in general could attend, buy flowers or just enjoy the various arrangements.

Seojun went with Chorong and the others. Sujin was there waiting for them.

“Ya Han Seojun! You’re alive!” She lit up when she saw him, punching him in the chest with a brutal force only she had.

“Yah! How could you hurt an idol like that?” Seojun rubbed his chest in pain.

“Oh, sorry. Did I hurt you?”

“Not at all!” Seojun said, “I’m a man. I don’t get hurt.”

“Pfft. Sure.” Sujin grinned.

They went through the various stalls that showcased the various beautiful flowers. The group seemed to have broken off. Chorong was led away by his girlfriend to take some pictures. The boys all banded around a strange, evil looking plant like school children. Seojun and Sujin seemed to have taken a track of their own.

“You don’t want to take pictures?” Seojun asked, pointing at Chorong and his girlfriend who were stopping at every stall.

“I don’t care for that sort of thing. Wae? You want me to take yours?”

“No. We should take on together.”

Seojun took out his phone and pulled Sujin closer, taking a selfie.

“Ya, you can’t even see the flowers.” Sujin complained.

“Yes, you can.” Seojun put a hand to his cheek. “Right here. I’m the flower.”

Sujin’s lip curled in disdain. “Ah, right.” She said dryly. Seojun laughed and she couldn’t help but smile too.

As a regular attendee, Seojun knew most of the repeat vendors there. He took Sujin around, introducing her to the people who knew him and showing her the various flowers he liked. Sujin listened to him go on at length about where the flowers came from and what they meant.

“You know the language of flowers?” Sujin asked, thinking back to the white tulips and the yellow roses he had gotten her way back when.

“Dangyunhaji! Every man should know flowers. How else will you impress the ladies?”

Sujin chuckled. “You know if being an idol doesn’t pan out, you can always be a florist.”

“I’m too pretty to be a florist. The flowers would all wither in shame.”

Sujin patted his head, sarcastically remarking, “Aigoo, our Seojun has suffered so much for being so good looking. It must have been so difficult, living like this.”

It felt nice being with Sujin again. Seojun felt oddly energetic; like he could run a mile and not break a sweat. He babbled about this and that and wondered if Sujin was getting bored. But she never was, she listened and nodded and responded when need be. Time flew by and before he knew it, they had finished going through the festival.

He pulled at the sleeve of her coat, “There’s something else you should see.”

In the back corner, hidden away from the main area were the small level vendors who could only afford the cheaper stalls. It was a street that led away from the festival. Only a couple of people were around.

“These people don’t earn that much because they’re always placed at the back. But they have the best flowers.”

Seojun introduced her to the people that were running the stall, all of whom he knew by name. Some of them gave Sujin flowers for free. She gratefully took them.

The day was almost ending, the slow sunset had begun. A lot petals had been shed. The street with these vendors was covered in these petals, making it look like a path made entirely of flowers.

“This is really beautiful, Seojun-ah.” Sujin said, admiring the street.

“Yeah.” Seojun said, looking at her.

One of the stalls was filled entirely with tulips. Bright yellow owns, pretty pink ones, eccentric multi-colored ones. Seojun pulled out a purple one and gave it to Sujin.

“Here you go, Princess.” Purple tulips represented regality. Sujin smiled.

“Aaand…” Seojun’s picked out a red one. “Here.” He said. Then quickly-— a little too quickly— he added. “Ah-Because it matches your coat.” He pointed at Sujin’s red coat.

Sujin looked at the flower, then back at him. But said nothing.

They strolled over to a bridge that overlooked the entire festival. The descending sun had set everything in a warm glow. The air smelled sweet with all of the flowers. Petals flew in the air.

“Here.” Sujin handed the tulips back to Seojun.

“Why? They’re for you.”

Sujin smiled. “Phabo. You should be giving them to the girl you like. And tell her what they mean when you give them.”

Seojun sighed wistfully, “The girl I like doesn’t know the language of flowers.”

Sujin hit him lightly with the tulips. “I wasn’t talking about Lim Jukyung. Go and like someone else, and bring her here, and give them these.”

“I wasn’t talking about Lim Jukyung either.”

“Mwo-ya. You have someone you like?”

Seojun’s bit his lip. “Yeah. But I’m going to give up.”

“Waaaee? You only just got over Lim Jukyung!”

“Because this girl likes someone else too.”

“Omo, chincha?” Sujin laughed. “Again? Ya, Han Seojun, can’t you choose a better girl to like?”

Seojun gave a sad chuckle. “I know, right?”

“Who is she? Do I know her?”

“Yeah.”

“Who is it? Tell me!”

“Nope. Secret.”

“Ugh, how stingy. At least give me a hint. What does she look like?”

Seojun looked at Sujin, “She’s beautiful. Very beautiful.”

“Ayyy, that’s every girl out there.”

“Well, that’s all the hint I’m giving.”

Sujin punched his arm but relented. It was perhaps better to not know who Seojun liked. Sujin would have been filled with jealousy again and she didn’t want that.

It was curious however, that Seojun found someone he liked, and she didn’t even know. It was curiouser that this new girl had someone she liked too. Just like Sujin, Han Seojun had—

Sujin looked at the tulips in her hand. They stood out among the other flowers the various vendors had given her. Sujin looked at Seojun, who was busy admiring the sunset.

It was strange, but in that moment, she remembered something her teacher had once said.

Some of you don’t know what it is you really want. And some of you do know but you’re hesitant. However, opportunities come without warning and you must be prepared to take advantage of it.

“Han Seojun.”

“Hmm?”

Sujin pointed the flowers at him, tilting her head slightly. Much like he had done a long time ago when he had asked her Do you think I’m handsome?

“Do you like me?”

And just like she had, Seojun answered immediately, with no remorse or regret. “Yes.”

Like the cool girl she was, Sujin didn’t overreact or exclaim in surprise. She only casually said, “I like you too. So, we should date.”

A beat of a pause. One, two three.

“What? What?! WHAT?! You like me? You like me?! Me?! As in, Han Seojun?”

“Yes you, you idiot. Manhi Joahae.”

“What? Ican’tbelievethis. How? Why? Wait, you asked me if I liked you. Did you already know?” Seojun appeared as if his brain had malfunctioned.

Sujin grinned. “You phabo, even if I didn’t know flower language, I could still tell by the red tulip. Ah-nee, red is the universal color for romance. Didn’t you know?”

Seojun’s face was a mixture of wonder, shock and pure happiness. His eyes were wide, cheeks red and pulled up, mouth hanging open in a slow smile. He had no words to speak. He felt like he would explode like a firecracker and light up the sky in sparks.

“You like me? You really like me?”

Sujin closed the distance between them, pulling at the lapel of his coat. She gave him only a chaste peck on his lips before moving back, blushing. “It’s official now. So, no backing out, okay?”

His mind, that was already haywire, went blank.

He pulled Sujin by the waist, pressing her entire form to him and cupped her face with his other hand. The kiss he gave her was intense and she gasped before giving in to him. Sujin felt she could stay like this forever. The kiss only ended because their mouths kept pulling back in an uncontrollable grin.

“You like me?” Seojun asked.

“Yes.”

He kissed her again but they couldn’t stop smiling. Both of them were shaking.

“You like me?” He asked again.

“Yes.” She replied again, chuckling.

And they kissed again.

“You like me?”

“Yes!” She laughed.

And they kissed again. And he asked again, she replied again, and they kissed again and again and again.

EPILOGUE

When Seojun and Sujin told Jukyung and the others that they were dating, it had been the first of April. So naturally everyone assumed they were joking. Seojun and Sujin hadn’t realized this and were surprised at the luke warm response that everyone gave to their announcement.

“Yes. We believe you.” Suah had said and Sujin missed her sarcastic tone.

when Seojun gushed over Sujin, the group all just looked at each other thinking, Wow, they’re really dedicated to this prank.

And even when they left together, the group all gathered and said;

“You believe them?”

“Why pull a prank that’s so obvious?”

“Exactly! Han Seojun and Kang Sujin? No way.”

Only Suho had been the one to keep his silence and not say anything.

But when they all met up again and Seojun and Sujin acted like a couple again, everyone gasped in shock.

“What?!”

“You guys are actually dating?!”

“How?! How did this happen?”

Only Suho had been the one who wasn’t surprised. “Congratulations. I’m happy for the two of you.” He had said warmly.

“Sujin-ah, what about our affair?” Jukyung said despondently, making a crying face.

“I’ll let you know when Seojunnie goes on tour.” Sujin assured her quietly.

“YAH!” Both Suho and Seojun exclaimed in protest, pulling their girlfriends away from each other.

“Lim Jukyung, you keep your hands off my girlfriend.” Seojun warned.

“I will. But there’s no guarantee she’ll keep her hands off me.”

Chorong and Co. had a similar reaction, they all exploded into shock and happiness at the news. Only Chorong seemed unsurprised.

“So you finally figured out your feelings?” Chorong asked Seojun.

“You knew?”

“Friends know.”

To Sujin, Chorong said, “Sujin-ah, I respect you a lot. But if you hurt—”

“Arasso, arasso. I won’t hurt your precious Han Seojun.”

“I meant don’t hurt me if he ever pisses you off. You scare the shit out of me.”

When enough time had passed and they knew they had to tell their parents, they went to Seojun’s mother first. The woman had been pleasantly surprised by this news and declared Sujin a part of the family immediately. She had met Sujin before and had taken a liking to her immediately but now that she and Seojun were dating, the woman gushed and cried.

“Ah, I have another daughter now.” She said, kissing Sujin on the forehead.

The tricky part was Sujin’s mother, who was still a little pissed over the scandal.

“What will people say if you announce this online?!” The woman had argued.

“But mom,” Sujin made a flower pot with her hands around Seojun’s face, “look at how handsome he is.” And that was enough to entice Mrs. Kang.

Receiving so much happiness and love from everyone was an unfamiliar experience for Sujin. So much so that it terrified her. She felt like she was in a dream that would shatter any minute and she would suddenly wake up back in her old bed with her father banging on the door, screaming at her that she was worthless.

It was this image that jerked Sujin awake in the middle of the night. She sat up straight, her heart was pounding, her hands felt sweaty and clammy. Her father’s shouting was still ringing in her ears.

Seojun stirred on the other side of the bed, “Bad dream?” His rich baritone was husky from sleep but it cut through the darkness of the room and Sujin didn’t feel so scared anymore.

“Um-hmm.”

“Come here.” Seojun patted her side of the bed. She fell back into his arms, nuzzling her nose in his neck.

He sang to her softly, his deep voice soothing her. “Love, love the stars. Love, love the moon. Nothing has really changed. It’s still the same air. With the same bed looking at the same ceiling.”

Sujin’s hands stopped feeling clammy and dirty and soon enough, she drifted off to sleep, dreaming of flowers and sunsets.

THE END.

A/N: Dear reader, if you stuck till the end and liked what I wrote, then thank you. Saranghae <3

Please have my badly made memes with my sarangs

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