#this like filling up the page w words thing i don’t usually do but i’ve seen a few examples of it on ig

[kuiinncedes]

blanking so hard for the second half LOL

[cozylittleartblog]

queencember day 8 - headcanon (...s.)

think i've already drawn my fav headcanons (ik there were some in day 1 to make up for how my take on queen is, visually, pretty similar to canon) but i do still have a few offerings for today. wrote too much on the images yet i still have things to say so transcriptions & elaboration are under the cut

first one: Good Lord This Lady Is Fucking Tall(tm). not taller than swatch/the swatchlings, or king, but pretty much everyone else. And she wears heels on top of that, which is a power move if i’ve ever seen one. (truth be told i had space to fill on the left and felt like drawing swatch lmao they don't particularly Need to be here) i play with heights a bit For The Vibes but if i were consistent, this is about how it’d be.

second one: she’s stolen the title of “the cool parent”. short of impaling himself, lil dude can do whatever he wants in her care. say a bad word, eat sweets before dinner, violate the geneva convention, stay up too late, its w/e!

the back of her head is semi-transparent i am just too lazy to draw it that way all the time. she also has a power cord "tail" that's retractable and winds into her lower back, usually used every few days when she powers down/”sleeps.” something she has to do or she starts lagging and overheating and crashing, much like a computer does, when left on for too long.

she cooks & bakes a lot too, especially for others. big hobby. forgets to use oven mitts because Robot Hands and has lightly burned people as a result. one of her many, many social media pages is a recipe blog except in half the posts she gets so distracted writing the foreword (she talks so much) she forgets to post the recipe part. arguably this is canon but i have expanded upon it, so,

if you're sad she's making you food and there is no arguing about it 💙

bonus that is not drawn but it is one of my favorites: she is so warm all the time. warm + tall = do you even KNOW how good her hugs are....

[detectivehannibal]

Pretty as a Picture

__

Hannibal Lecter x Fem. Reader

Warnings: Implications of smut.

A/N: Why do I keep disappearing from this blog?? I’ve had this idea for FOREVER. Fun fact about me, I sometimes recycle my works from other blogs. So if you’re curious, this is from my Harry Potter blog @seriouslysnape and here’s the original work.

Word Count: 1,738

“It’s not much...just a little something for your birthday.”

__

On the surface, surprises don’t really seem to come to mind when you think about Hannibal Lecter. The esteemed psychiatrist always came off to you as an open book. He was usually willing to share all aspects of his life with you, which naturally left you believing that there weren’t any secrets lurking further within himself. 

Oh, how wrong you were.

Despite all the things that you didn’t know about Hannibal, you knew him well enough to know the sorts of things that he has a fancy for and the things he doesn’t. As high maintenance and temperamental as he is, he is shockingly easy to please. It’s a bit of an ironic statement, but still the truth nonetheless. 

You could gift Hannibal with something as simple as a pair of socks or with something as extravagant as a brand new luxury suit, and he’d always have the same genuine, appreciative reaction. If something came from you, he would surely love it with his whole heart. 

This gift, however, was on a whole new level.

The idea had honestly come to you at random when you were brainstorming birthday present possibilities. Even though he would never admit it, he was a bit bored of you buying him a new tie for every occasion. He had a tie for every color, pattern, and even he could ever dream of. You wanted to think outside of the box this time. You wanted to come up with something that he would never ever think of. 

On the flip side, you also wanted to be sure that it was something that he could have for a long time and something that would have some real meaning to him. You could always go down the culinary appliance route, but he already had absolutely everything he’d ever possibly want or need. You were in a bit of a rut, but that’s when you got a wonderful thought.

Hannibal didn’t own many personal pictures. Most of the photos in his house were custom made art pieces that were worth more than the price of your left leg alone. Hannibal never struck you as the kind of man to have plethoras of pictures of loved ones, but you still found it odd. It’d be a win-win in your eyes. You’d supply Hannibal with some photos to hold on to, and it’d be a thoughtful gift.

Then your plan took a sultry turn.

You had picked out a large photo album that would match the aesthetic of his house, and an album that would have plenty of pages to fill up. You kept it stashed away in your closet until you were ready to put pictures inside of it when another idea came to mind. 

What if you made a sexy photo album for him?

At first, you were a little sheepish at the idea. Boudoir style pictures showing off only the dirtiest of contents? It seemed like that might be too much and even a bit weird. The longer you thought about it, though, the more and more the idea sounded good. Maybe Hannibal wouldn’t necessarily jump at the gift, but at least he’d have something to jerk off to when you weren’t around.

You assembled as many outfits as you could, some coming from your personal collection and some were purchased as a specialty to the production of the photos. You’d need some help actually having the photos taken, which is why you recruited one of your closest friends.

You could’ve had them professionally done, but you weren’t sure how comfortable you were with a photographer and group of modeling experts studying over your naked body for an entire day. Your friend was stoked for the project and dedicated a whole afternoon while Hannibal was at work to help you out. 

You took probably about a hundred pictures, all with varying poses, outfits, and locations around the house. You even took a few more innocent photos of you just smiling or doing candid things. You figured that you needed some sweet to balance out the spicy. 

You decorated the pages to add some pop and flare, ultimately thrilled with the final product. Hannibal’s birthday was only a few days away, and you were itching to show him what you had made for him. 

“You’re fidgety tonight.” Hannibal spoke from where he was laid out underneath you on the living room sofa. 

It was true, you had been extremely jittery for the last hour and a half, trying to compose yourself. Hannibal had told you that he had wanted nothing more than to have a quiet evening in for his birthday, which you found as a blessing because he’d definitely want to stay around the house after seeing his gift.

“Sorry. Just excited.” You admitted, seeing this as the perfect opportunity.

He raised a brow, looking down at your frame that was practically trembling with explosive animation. 

“I feel as if I don’t need to inform you that my birthday comes around every year,” He joked; “What’s gotten you so elated?”

You smiled up at him with a brightness that was almost blinding. You scrambled off of the sofa at your cue.

“Wait right here. I’ll be back.” You announced as you dashed up the stairs.

Hannibal chuckled to himself, already guessing as to what you were plotting. You returned shortly after with the picture book in hand, complete with a bow on top. You sat with your legs crossed in front of him, eagerly handing it to him.

“It’s not much...just a little something for your birthday.” You explained.

Hannibal sat up from where he was settled into the cushions, eyeing over the cover carefully. It was a beautifully crafted book, the dark leather was absolutely gorgeous. He pushed the bow off of the sides, opening to the very first page to see a sweet note you had written him, signed with your signature and all. He turned to the first page to actually contain photos on it, and a smile of pure joy spread on his face.

You had put all of the non-sexual pictures in the first two pages to disguise the actual reason for the book. You were smiling happily in each of the first several photos, wearing different casual outfits and in different places. 

“Darling, these are wonderful,” He complimented; “They’re stunning, they-”

His heartbeat quickened when he made it to the third page, and he noticed they had taken on a new theme. The scandalous photos were enough to knock him speechless. For the first time ever, you saw Hannibal’s cheeks break out into a deep blush. His fingertips trailed over one in particular where you were wearing one of his white work shirts with all the buttons undone. The only thing you were wearing underneath was one of his ties settled between your breasts. 

In other photos, you were wearing different sets of lingerie. There was one lacy, red colored set that almost made him faint right then and there.

He was knocked speechless, unable to string together a single sentence. You were beginning to feel a little self conscious, and you went back to your original worry that this was a bad idea. You had honestly expected him to completely attack you with feverish kisses or fuck you right then and there. The fact that he was completely silent was unsettling, because Hannibal Lecter always had something to say. 

Your voice was thick with uncertainty as you spoke to break the silence.

“Hannibal, do you...like them?” You wondered aloud.

His eyes never steered clear from the book in his hands and the photos presented in front of him. He turned to the next page, a rush of arousal flushing over him at one in particular where you were completely naked, stretched out on the massive kitchen counter and giving a look so seductive that it made his belly flutter. The sight of you naked in his culinary world where he spent so much time was a sight to behold.

“[Y/N], I love them. These photographs...they’re beautiful, well produced, and so, so sexy.” He breathed out.

You exhaled a breath of relief, feeling a sense of anticipation as he continued to rake over them. He turned to a new set of pictures, his hot blush growing even deeper onto his cheeks. He couldn’t look away from the scandalous photos, each one becoming dirtier than the last. He was riled up and he was already looking forward to having this book at his disposal.

His lips parted slightly ajar as he loomed over them. Your waiting was patient as he finished looking through them, his pupils dilating more and more by the minute. He closed the book once he was finished, his eyes finally flickering up to you. He had grown a very prevalent erection, and his eyes were filled with an intense amount of lust. Your suspicions had been correct after all. 

He was going to rock your world.

Hannibal usually didn’t try to make the first move. He always wanted you to initiate sex first. He believed that sex was a passionate, romantic connection that shouldn’t always be fueled by burning want and desire from outside resources. Based on the way he was looking at you though, you could tell that he wanted you BADLY. 

He nonchalantly rolled his hips forward to create some kind of friction. The sneaky grin on your face was almost maddening. The way that your body leaned in and your lips brushed over his just ever so was intoxicating. Your lips traveled to his ear as you purposefully let out a wanton moan to tantalize him. 

“Touch me, Hanni. I know you want to.” You coaxed.

That was all he needed. 

Hannibal lunged forward, smothering your body with his and suffocating you with hot kisses. He kept your hands pinned above your head, leaving open mouthed kisses on your neck as he intentionally drew the most wonderful sounds out of you. 

“What are the chances of you wearing one of those outfits under this sweater?” He said in a steamy voice.

You squirmed against his hands, but to no avail. When Hannibal didn’t want you to go anywhere, then you wouldn’t. You bit down on your lip in a seductive way, breathing out your response to send him into full on love making mode.

“Why don’t you find out?”

[sunshineseung]

Paperwork // Hyunjin

🍄 | genre: smut (18+ only) ☁️ | pairing: Hwang Hyunjin x female!reader 🌿 | wc: 5.1k 🌸 | includes: switch-dom!hyunjin, switch-sub!reader, oral (both receiving), PIV riding, pet names, begging, kinda goofy at first, cum swallowing, “sir”, a lil bit more but not too much

☀️ | synopsis: You’ve been working at this office for five painstakingly long years, but despite your best efforts, you never get a raise or promotion. When the CEO retires, his son takes his place, and seeing as you’re around the same age as his son, this could be your chance to get ahead. 

🌊 | If you want to skip to the smut, look for the [🔥] because there’s a lot of set up for this one, but I know some people just want to get off lol.

He has finally stepped down. After 60 long, long years, the CEO of the company you work at has retired, as if he didn’t have enough money to retire 30 years ago.

The amount of times you’ve been told off by that man is practically uncountable. It felt like at one point you were going into his office every week to ask for any sort of promotion, raise, or even kudos, but every time, he turned up his nose and shooed you away like some kind of stray cat. You’ve worked too long and too hard to not be given proper treatment. Despite everything, you stay at the company, knowing no where else in the city will pay nearly as well.

The company now belongs to his oldest son, Hyunjin. He’s never worked in this office, yet the old man still thought it would be appropriate for him to run the entire company (supervised by a few HRs, of course). Hyunjin looked like a complete fool trying to command the floors of burnt out office workers just trying to pay next month’s rent and put food on their tables, not that he would know what it’s like to work for anything. The first job he’s ever had and it’s the CEO of a multi-million dollar enterprise, who would have thought?

This is your chance. He’s right around your age, give or take a few months, and he seems marginally more friendly than his father. If you were ever going to climb the corporate ladder to finally move out of your studio apartment, it was right now.

Wearing the tightest, shortest skirt you own with the perfect button up to match, you step into his office after scheduling a meeting with his temporary secretary. When you sit down in the chair across from him, he just sighs and waits for you to speak your piece so he can get back to his grueling job of signing documents that he never reads.

“Good morning, sir. I was just coming up here to compliment you on how well you’ve been running the place since your father stepped down. It seems like company morale is at an all time high, and I can’t imagine thanking anyone other than you.”

“So you want a promotion, right?” He scoffs, grabbing a pen to click repeatedly as you struggle coming up with a response. You weren’t expecting him to be so quick on his feet considering he would stutter over every word talking at meetings. “I assume you didn’t come in here just to kiss my ass.”

“Alright, you caught me, but can I at least make my case?” He looks up from the pen to wordlessly incite you to keep talking. “I’ve been working here since I got out of college. This is really my dream, and it would mean the world to me if I could get farther, work harder, and, if you’re feeling so inclined, get a bit of a paycheck raise.”

“Well, you caught me on the right day, miss...”

“L/n. But you can call me Y/n if you want.”

“Y/n.” Hyunjin puts the pen down and leans on his desk, elbows propping himself up. “If you’re up for the task, I am looking for a new secretary.”

“As I’ve heard.” The rumor has been going around that his father left his secretary for Hyunjin, but all they’ve been doing if fighting, so they had to bring in a temporary one, the one you spoke with, to hold him off until Hyunjin finds a secretary he likes. “Not to be rude, but wouldn’t you rather have a male secretary like your father had?”

“No, no. I know what I want.” He runs his hand through his black hair, slipping out the ponytail that was holding the long strands out of his face. “I want you to be my secretary. No one else.”

He drags his fingers through a stack of papers on his desk, stopping at a five page contract booklet. He slides you the papers and the pen he was just fiddling with.

“If you really want this promotion, you’ll sign on that dotted line right now.”

🖊⌚️🗄🗞🪙📞

Working for Hyunjin wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be. Once he warms up to you, he’s actually really sweet. If you mess up his coffee or misscedule a meeting, he doesn’t fire you immediately, but rather just assures you that it’s okay and you’ll do better next time, a total 180 from what you saw that first time in his office. After a few weeks, you’re a dream to work with, and the job is a lot less stressful than you had assumed.

Hyunjin, on the other hand, was beyond stressed. Meeting after meeting, signature after signature, decision after decision: it was all too much. The only time he smiled was when you brought him coffee in the morning, or when he’d hear your voice through the phone. He always looked forward to seeing you, even if it was only for a brief minute. You were really the only thing keeping his sanity together.

“Here’s your coffee, sir.” You put the cup on his desk as he reads a random document. He thanks you, as usual, and takes a quick sip before immediately regretting his decision when he felt his tongue begin to burn. You quick go to his mini-fridge and pass him a water bottle, standing back as he gulps half of it down to relieve at least some of the pain. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean for it to get that hot!”

“It’s fine, it’s fine! Don’t worry about it.” He sits back in his chair and slowly turns to you, meeting your eyes in a light-hearted stare. He laughs before finally speaking again. “You’re holding this company together, you know that?”

You laugh right with him, rolling your eyes at his statement. “Oh please, I just forward emails all day.”

“No, I mean it.” He holds his hands out and grabs yours, interlocking your hands in a soft grip. You could easily move back, but you don’t want to. “Without you, I’d be losing my mind.”

“Aw, you’re too kind.” You stand in silence for a moment, unsure of what to say next. The silence isn’t awkward by any means, but you can’t help but wonder why you’re holding the hands of your boss. “You’re doing very well, though. You have some big shoes to fill, and I feel like you’re doing the best you can.”

“Of course you’d say that. You work for me.” Hyunjin lets go of your hands and leans back in his chair again, crossing one of his legs over the other and lazily putting his hands behind his head, lounging back. “Y/n, can I say something crazy?”

“Say whatever’s on your mind, sir. I’m all ears.”

“Ugh, drop the formalities. Just call me Hyunjin, okay?” You nod, letting him continue with his speech. “I really appreciate you, Y/n, and it’s no secret that my family is loaded, so I want to ask if you’d come live with me downtown.”

“W-what?” Your eyes practically bulge out of your head. Living with your boss sounds absolutely insane, but any chance to get out of your shitty apartment is promising. This is the opportunity of a life time, no doubt, but is it worth taking? “Sir, I...”

“For fuck’s sake, call me Hyunjin.” You’ve never heard him curse before. “Listen, I live in a penthouse on the top story of a high-security luxury apartment complex. I’m all alone in a five bedroom apartment with a full view of the town. Going home alone every night is wearing on me, and it would mean a lot to have someone else there, even just to talk to.”

“I need time to think.” You look anywhere but his eyes as he leans forward and looks up at you from his chair.

“Take your time and think it over. I’ll give you until the end of the day.” Hyunjin turns back to his desk and looks at the paper he was reading before he burnt his tongue. “Go back to your office for now, but right after your shift, I want you here.”

“Yes, s-... okay, Hyunjin.”

🖊⌚️🗄🗞🪙📞

Everyone is gone except you, finalizing one last email before heading up to Hyunjin’s office. An office with no workers is eerie to say the least, and as you take the elevator up to Hyunjin’s office, you can’t help but notice how nervous you feel inside.

This is the right decision. As difficult as it might be, you’re going to say no to his offer. It’s extremely unprofessional to have any sort of out-of-work relationship with your boss. Thinking back to the outfit you wore when you took the promotion, it’s no wonder you assume you’ve made Hyunjin think you want this. Your apartment may be shitty, but at least it’s yours. Living with Hyunjin would cause too many problems in your life, and the last thing you need right now is problems.

He was waiting for you. With his head in his hands as you walk through the door, he darts his attention to you as you sit across from him. While it was certainly a familiar sight by now, he was just glad you didn’t run away from him after such an intense morning.

“Hyunjin, I just want to-”

“Stop.” He holds his hand up, pausing you mid-sentence. “I’m sorry for what I said earlier. I’m just stressed, and I’m not thinking clearly. I shouldn’t have offered you to live with me. That’s not who I am, nor is that something I should have sprung on you like that.” He reverts back to his former position with his head in his hands, staring down at his desk. “I just... I’m so lonely.”

You feel for him, you really do. He’s been thrown into this situation obviously not by choice, and he knows absolutely no one he’s working with other than you. With a stressful job and no one to turn to, it was clear why he was acting so rashly.

You pull his hands away from his head, holding them in yours like you did this morning. Rubbing your thumb over the back of his hand, you give him a gentle smile as he meets your eyes. The bags under his eyes are present, and his tiredness is visible. He looks so worn out to you. You really do feel bad.

“I’m not asking you to move in, but would you like to come back to my penthouse? Just for tonight?” He returns a smile to you, lowering his gaze blankly. “We can have a few drinks and talk. I just need someone with me right now.”

“Only if you’re paying for the taxi.” You two laugh together, appreciating each other’s presence.

“I’ll have my chauffeur drive us back to my place, and afterwards, he can drive you home.”

🖊⌚️🗄🗞🪙📞

Saying that Hyunjin’s apartment was massive would be an understatement. You felt like you walked into a penthouse from a dystopian future with shiny metal counter tops and black leather furniture. It didn’t look lived in, but to be fair, there was only one man living there. You felt cold even though it was room-temperature. 

“Follow me, doll.” Hyunjin takes your hand and leads you to the living room to sit on his L-shaped couch. If his pet name didn’t throw you off, you very well would have just walked there without his assistance, but you didn’t know how to react after being called ‘doll’ by your boss. “Want anything to drink? Wine? Vodka?”

“I’ll take wine, thank you.”

“Red or white?”

“Red.”

Hyunjin pours you both a glass and meets you back on the couch, lounging next to you, letting the soft silence fall over the room as you each take a sip of the expensive booze. As you drink a bit more, Hyunjin’s eyes are glued to you, and you start to break a sweat as the temperature in the room seems to rise. He’s just... staring at you. You feel uneasy, but this alcohol should help calm your nerves, right?

Hyunjin easily notices that you’re starting to slip into deeper thought, so he carefully puts his hand on your knee to bring you back into the moment. His gesture isn’t charged in anyway, but you still jolt at his touch. You dart your eyes towards his while looking like a deer in headlights. 

“Are you alright?” Hyunjin slides his hand up and down your leg only from your knee to mid-thigh. With his other hand, he puts his glass of wine on the coffee table in front of you so he can totally focus on your needs. Even though you hesitantly nod, he isn’t convinced in the slightest. “You want to know why I invited you here?”

“Sure, Hyunjin. Why did you invite me here?” The more he rambles on, the less you have to talk, so you gladly let him fill the silence. 

“Well, to put it simply, I’m interested in you.” You tilt your head in confusion. Was this a confession? “You’re a very intriguing person to me. When you walked into my office for the first time, you suffocated me with your aura. You truly do command a room, you know? That’s probably why you’ve gotten so far in your career.” His chuckle is awkward, and you don’t respond in any way to help his nerves. “You’re a woman that knows what she wants, and I admire that, especially since I don’t even know what I want.”

“How don’t you know what you want?” Your confidence was slowly coming back, although you weren’t sure if it was from the alcohol or your want to pick at Hyunjin’s brain. “You have everything anyone could ever want! Look at where you live!” You gesture to the room around you. The modern art-deco custom paintings, the abstract sculptures, the fake plants that looked too fake to even be considered plant-like. It was a dream, especially for those that lived in the city. “You have the perfect house and the job position people can only dream of.”

“I don’t want this, Y/n.” He stands from the couch, walking over to the wall of glass that separates the living room from the balcony. “This house means nothing. This job position means nothing.” He can’t face you, fearful that you’ll see how weak he is. “I want someone. I want you.”

Silence. You stare down at your legs, unable to even process what Hyunjin just said. Your thumbs rub against each other, fiddling so you can focus on anything else. Hyunjin sighs loudly and turns around, walking back over so he can tower over you. His shadow consumes you, shrouding your figure in slight darkness. A hand slips under your chin, pulling your face up to see him. His eyes sparkle when he looks at you as if he’s enamored by your existence. 

“What do I have to do?” Hyunjin ponders, leaning in closer to you. The scent of his cologne clogs your senses, and all you can think about is Hwang Hyunjin. “What do I have to do to have you?”

Your hand goes to his chest, grabbing his tie. You pull him into you, crashing your lips against his in a heated kiss. Hyunjin puts all of his emotion into this kiss, promising himself that he’ll show his love through his actions. 

Pulling away, you both catch your breath and enjoy the brief silence. For once, it isn’t awkward; the silence is welcomed. 

“Hyunjin,” you twirl his tie between your fingers, “if you want me, then prove it.” 

[🔥]

Hyunjin takes your hand in his, pulling you off the couch. He drags you up to his bedroom without saying a word, assuming you know what’s about to happen. His sheets are all black, neatly made without a stain in sight. Hyunjin sits on the edge of the bed, tapping on his lap to invite you to take a seat. 

You straddle him, feeling heated the second your thighs come in contact with his. It feels unreal, but you want this now more than ever. You didn’t drink even an entire glass of wine, so you can’t blame this decision on any ounce of alcohol. 

“Are you sure about this, sweetheart?” He wraps his long arms around your waist, pulling you into him so your body is pressed against his. “I need to hear you say you want this.”

��Yes, Hyunjin. I’m sure I want this.” You shoot him a smile that never fails to make his heart melt, and he can’t help but kiss you again, his lips perfectly fitting against yours. When you open your mouth to allow his tongue to slip in, he feels like he has reached nirvana. Hyunjin was been wanting this for so god damn long; he could bust in his pants just thinking about it. 

His mouth moves from your lips to your jawline, not leaving any hickeys because he knows you have work tomorrow. His kisses along your jaw and neck make you moan quietly, and your hands slip behind his head into his hair. You curl your fingers into his hair, pulling it ever so slightly. He grunts against your neck, sucking harder than before, accidentally leaving a red mark. 

He pulls off of your throat, breathing heavily, looking into your half-lidded eyes. Your hands rest on the back of his neck, holding him close to you. Hyunjin smiles lightly and pecks your cheek, making you both giggle from his cute gesture. 

“I know I told you not to call me sir, but... maybe just for tonight, you can call me that.” Oh, he’s like that? You kiss him for a moment before pushing him back, his body falling against the sheets. Your body hovers over his, and you roam your hands over his chest and abs, feeling him from over his shirt.

“Alright, sir.” You smile innocently, leaning down, kissing his neck to test his dominance. He doesn’t fuss at this. He accepts your kisses, throwing his head back to give you better access to kiss his neck. Your hands roam all over his body, paying special attention to his chest, or more specifically, his nipples. He groans quietly, biting his lips as your fingers rolls over his nipples. “Oh, you like this?”

“Y-yeah.”

“Sit up. Let me take your shirt off.” He laughs at your commands as he raises his body from the bed and unbuttons the top of his shirt before you step in and unbutton the rest. The slow reveal of his torso his haunting, causing your eyes to dart every which way across his body. He really looks like a Greek god. “This is what you’ve been hiding from me?” 

“Oh please, I’ve been wanting to fuck you since I first laid eyes on you, doll.” There it was again. That damn pet name. He really was going to be the death of you, so you might as well enjoy this. “I’ve had dreams of bending you over my desk and fucking you during work, but that wouldn’t be very appropriate, would it?” 

You gulp out of nervousness, unsure of where to go from here. You were in control for the moment, but now that Hyunjin was letting his emotions out, you keep getting flustered, wishing he would take the reigns over this situation. 

“Aw, is my little doll getting shy?” He brushes his hand across your hot cheek, making you stutter out nonsense. “You’re so cute, baby. I could flip you over and ruin you right now, but we should take our time, right?” 

You nod, tracing your hands on his chest again. Your thumb and pointer finger grip his nipples and twist, causing him to arch his back and fall against the bed once again. He’s putty in your hands again, so you up the ante by pressing your heat against his painfully large bulge in his tight work pants, teasing him just enough to make him weak. The sounds he’s making can only be described as sinful, and you love every minute of it.

You dive your head down to his chest, sucking hickeys into his defined pecs. Your tongue around his nipples makes him keen from pleasure, his hands petting your back up and down. When you lean up to look at all the marks you’ve made, he’s desperately trying to catch his breath. 

“I was supposed to be showing you how much I like you, not the other way around!” He giggles through deep breaths, running his hands down the sides of your body. “Lay back, baby. Let me take care of you, alright?”

You shrug in agreement, dramatically throwing your body back on the mattress for Hyunjin to pin you down under his lean figure. His gaze eats you alive, skimming over your skin like he was about to devour you. 

“You’re absolutely stunning, baby.” He kisses you on the lips, short and sweet, before unbuttoning your dress shirt and revealing your bra, feeling your tits over the fabric. His hands perfectly cup your tits, moving your bra down to play with your hardened nipples. You arch your back into his touch, relaxing and letting him worship your chest. He’s a master with his hands, making you moan and whine just enough for him to get even harder under his tight pants. “Can I take your bra off?”

“Of course, sir. Take it all off for me, alright?” You wink up at him, stirring a fire in his heart. He wants to take you, all of you, inciting him to rapidly strip you of your shirt and bra, tossing them to the side. His lips attach to one of your nipples while his hand goes to the other, playing with the bud between his fingers. His other hand snakes down your body and unbuttons your pants, sneaking down to play with your cunt over your panties. His middle finger pushes your panties into your pussy, saturating them with your wetness. “Please finger me, Hyunjin.”

“Oh, needy already?” He leans up from your chest, sitting between your spread legs as he unbuttons his own pants and pulls them down enough to see his bulge under his tight boxers. He looked so big, bigger than you’ve ever taken. Your cunt becomes drentched in a second of you imagining his cock going inside you. “Staring isn’t polite, you know?”

“S-sorry, sir.” He pulls your pants down your legs, leaving your panties to be the only thing covering you. His hands hug your hips, pulling you right up to him. You feel his bulge against your cunt, making you bite your lip.

One of Hyunjin’s big hands comes down to your cunt, a finger hooking around the bottom of your panties to move them to the side, allowing him to check out your sopping heat. His fingers feather through your folds, circling your needy hole just to tease you. He smiles as you whine and buck your hips up, physically begging him to fuck you dumb.

“My baby’s pussy looks so pretty. I can’t possibly fuck her before I get a taste.” You watch Hyunjin as he scoots down the bed and leans down to be eye-level with your cunt. He licks his lips before diving in, sucking on your clit and running his tongue through your pussy. One arm hooks around your leg while his other comes up to play with your pussy, his fingers teasing your hole before sliding in just enough to make you whine for more. “You’re so sweet, princess.”

“T-Thank you, sir.” You throw your head back when he bends his fingers inside you, curling into your g-spot. Hyunjin hums as you moan loudly, hinting to Hyunjin that you’re close. “C-cum, sir. Need to cum.”

“Aw, my baby’s ready to cum?” Hyunjin teases, going right back to sucking on your clit and mercilessly fingering your tight hole with two fingers. His tongue flicking over your clit is making you so close, your legs shaking as he continues to assault your cunt. “Cum on my fingers, babe.”

Your legs violently shake as you reach your orgasm, all your nerves on edge as waves of pleasure drown your brain. You moan Hyunjin’s name over and over, holding his hair in an iron grip. As you come down, his mouth slowly detaches from your pussy, fully lapping up all your juices.

“Open your mouth.” With your eyes still closed, you open your mouth wide open and let your tongue out, letting Hyunjin do whatever he wants to your mouth. His wet fingers dip into your mouth, pressing against your tongue to make you taste your cunt. You suck lightly on his fingers, tasting yourself before he slips his hand out of your mouth, separating his spit-coated fingers to admire your hard work. “Good girl.”

Your eyes goes back down, staring at the outline of his cock in his boxers. He notices your stare, pulling his waistband down to reveal his long, thick cock, leaking with precum, ready to be stuffed inside you. “W-wanna feel you inside me~”

“Aw, but baby, I’ve fucked you dumb just from my fingers. You think you can handle my cock?” He presses the tip of his cock against your hole, pushing it in just enough to make you whine loudly. He smiles, seeing how fucked out you are so easily. He leans down to your ear, holding your hips in his hands. “Do you really want it?”

His voice is so deep and quiet that it makes you shiver, biting your lips before you can even speak. You breath for a moment to collect yourself. “Yes, sir. I want it.”

“Alright, baby.” Hyunjin gives you a peck on your lips before laying next to you, putting his hands behind his head. You look over at him puzzled, still collecting your breath. “Ride me.”

Hyunjin takes a condom out of his nightstand while you whine and breath more, trying to bring back any feeling to your legs. You regain your strength as he rolls the comdom onto his thick shaft.

You huff and sit up, wobbling before getting balanced on the soft bed. You finally pull off your panties before straddling him. Hyunjin throws his head back as you start to jerk his cock, feeling him twitch in your palm. With your free hand, you pull his pants down more to let you comfortably straddle his hips. As you lower yourself into him, you both groan loudly, you from the stretch and him from the tightness.

Hyunjin’s hands hold tightly onto your waist as you fully lower onto him, halting your movements to allow your cunt to adjust to his size. He bites his lip and stares at your face, admiring your beauty despite your messy hair and sweaty forehead. You slowly raise your hips, gripping Hyunjin’s cock with your cunt as you lower back down.

“You’re so tight, baby- fuck.” Hyunjin’s groans are loud as hell, echoing through the bedroom as you ride him, establishing a slow pace. You feel so full, his tip reaching deep inside you, and you love it. The stretch doesn’t bother you anymore, speeding up slightly. He watches your tits bounce on your chest, teasing him with their perky nipples and forming hickeys.

“Is sir close?” You feel him switch inside you at your question, his eyes squeezing shut as he nods and whines. His grip on your waist looses before his hands fall next to his head. You lean down and pin his wrists to the bed with your hands. Having your tits right in his face makes it even harder to keep his cool.

Suddenly, Hyunjin’s hips buck into you, fucking up into your tight cunt while you force yourself to stay still so he can let out his energy... and your legs were getting tired. He hits your spot with every thrust, desperately fucking you so he can release into the condom. You feel him inside you, his cum ballooning the tip of the condom, making you moan as he whines, saying your name like a mantra. He looks so hot under you, you can’t help but lean down and kiss his pretty, plump lips while he sits inside you.

“I thought I could last longer.” Hyunjin wipes the sweat from his brow as he pulls out of you, pulling off the condom, tying it, and tossing it towards his trash can. “You really know how to break me.”

He doesn’t realize that you’re still on top of him, moving down the bed to take his cock into your mouth. He winces when your hot tongue hits the tip of his cock. You lick up his shaft before taking him into your mouth, testing your gag reflex as you take him down your throat, your nose hitting his pelvis. His hands find home in your hair, pulling tightly as you bob your head on his member.

He’s totally speechless, his brain empty as you suck his cock like a pro. Your tongue feels like heaven on Earth, quickly making him fully hard again and bringing him close to another orgasm. He’s never been over stimulated like this before, whining like a cat in heat as he watches his cock disappear down your throat. You stare up at him, keeping eye contact even if he doesn’t look at you.

He twitches in your mouth, his cock spawning against your tongue as you increase the pace. He bites his lip harsh enough to draw blood as he cums again, your head raising so only the tip is in your mouth while one hand jerks his cock, milking him dry. His vision is fuzzy, mind even foggier. He can’t believe you just did that without a word.

You swallow his cum, wiping the drool off of your chin as you hop up and lay next to him, nuzzling into his chest. He puts an arm around you while you two cuddle in silence.

“You’re really good at that, Y/n.” He huffs, smiling as he looks down at you who’s drifting off to sleep. “Are you gonna sleep over?”

“I was hoping I could. And who knows? Maybe we can fuck in the morning before going to work.”

“Fuck, work.” Hyunjin sighs loudly before groaning from the reminder of all of his stress. “This won’t change our relationship ship at the office, will it?”

“Not publicly, no, but if you ever need to releive some stress during the day, just invite me up to your office and I’d be happy to help you, sir.” You both laugh, finally at ease in each other’s arms. As you drift to sleep, you can’t help but be excited for the proceeding weeks at your work.

This is exactly the raise you needed.

[hercleverboy]

persistence

spencer reid x reader

summary ↠ when spencer finds out that the reader has a stalker, he is determined to not let history repeat itself. 

category ↠ angst/fluff

warnings/includes ↠ stalker-like activity, death threats, few swear words, descriptions of blood, puking, spencer being kinda emotionally manipulative

word count ↠   8.2k

“Normality is a paved road. It’s comfortable to walk, but no flowers grow.”-- Vincent Van Gogh

Y/N stared down at the letter in her hands.  Her fingers trembled, tears blurring her vision as she reread the words over and over.  Written in an ominous red ink, a chicken-scratch-like writing filled the page. 

‘If I can’t have you, no one can.’

*

It had all started two months ago. 

First, it was the dark blue Sedan that she began noticing sat across the street from her apartment complex. Of course it easily could’ve belonged to one of the many people who lived in the complex, or perhaps even a friend of theirs. At first, it went unnoticed by her. It was only when she started taking note of the hours it was parked there that she began to get slightly concerned. 

8am to 8pm. Every single day. 

Like clockwork. 

She’d peak through her living room curtains at 8am, and watch the car pull into its usual spot. It wouldn’t move all day but as soon as it struck 8pm, it left again- only to return the next day. 

However, ever the sceptic, she didn’t want to blow the situation out of proportion. Her mind came up with countless possibilities. The owner was staying with a friend who lived close by (but then why would the car not be there overnight?), or perhaps it was an plain-clothed officer doing some form of undercover work? Honestly, there was nothing she hadn’t considered. So while the presence of the unexplainable car was a little unnerving, it wasn’t enough to make her paranoid. 

The paranoia began when sheets of paper began being posted through her letterbox. They always came between the times that the blue car was parked outside, and had only a few words on each one that was delivered. 

‘I’ve been watching you, you know.’ 

‘You’re so beautiful.’ 

‘That boyfriend of yours, does he hold you like I did?’

‘Does he touch you like I did?’

Whilst they weren’t exactly threats, they were enough to set her skin alight. She was constantly looking over her shoulder, jumpy and paranoid. 

Spencer noticed it, too. 

He’d seen the subtle change in his girlfriend’s body language, but didn’t want to push her on the matter. He had asked once, but she’d reassured him that she was fine. So he decided that he’d let her confide in him when she was ready, but that didn’t mean that this change in behaviour didn’t make his heart ache. 

He was a profiler, one of the best, he knew the behavioural tells that signalled fear. 

So what was she so afraid of?

Then the phone calls started. 

Y/N heard the buzz of her phone, assuming it was Spencer calling. He was out of state on a case, but he always called to check up on her, or to notify her he was almost home. Although they didn’t live together yet, Spencer spent most of his spare time at her apartment. (He’d joked once that it was because her place was bigger than his, but really it was because his work took him away from her so often that he wanted to spend any spare minute he could with her.)

Reaching for the device, she frowned as she saw ‘Unknown Number’ flash across the screen. 

“Hello?”

Silence.

“Hello?”

and then she heard it. 

Heavy, husky breathing on the other end of the line. 

The caller didn’t speak. 

Unease filled her as she pulled the phone away from her ear and hung up. She placed her phone down beside her, biting down on her bottom lip as she attempted to rationalise what’d just happened. 

Probably a butt dial, or maybe even a wrong number? 

She pushed it to the back of her mind, distracting herself so that she wouldn’t have to confirm what she already knew was true. 

The second call came two days later. 

Spencer had returned earlier that day from an exhausting but overall successful case. He hadn’t even stopped by his place after landing, instead opting to go straight to Y/N’s apartment, unable to contain his excitement of seeing her for the first time in a week. 

He let himself in with the key she’d given him for their one year anniversary, as he quietly made his way into the home. He called out her name, announcing his presence so she’d know he was home.

When she didn’t come to greet him in the hallway, or even call back to let him know she’d heard him he frowned. He slipped off his shoes before moving down the hallway, his eyes finally landing on her figure in the living room. She was stood by the large window that overlooked the street below them, her phone pressed to her ear. Spencer took in her body language, noting how her shoulders were tensed, and how the hand not holding her phone was gripping tightly onto the curtains as she peaked between them. 

The unknown caller hung up, and Y/N looked down at her phone in her hand, eyes welling with tears- still unaware of Spencer’s presence behind her.  

“Y/N?” He asked quietly, trying not to startle her but still managing to. 

She shrieked, turning around to face him, relief filling her features as she saw the familiar sight of her boyfriend. She forced a smile on her lips and pushed her worries away, wiping the tears from her cheeks quickly and hoping he hadn’t already seen them. “Spence! God, I’m sorry. I didn’t notice you were home.” She chuckled. 

His frown only deepened as he moved toward her. “Is everything okay? Who was that on the phone?” 

Y/N’s breath hitched as she quickly came up with an excuse. “Oh, It was no-one.” She waved it off, hoping she’d played it off well enough to ease his worry. 

Once he reached her he put his arms around her, enveloping her in a tight hug, his arms around her waist. She sighed, hugging him back with her arms around his neck. 

He nuzzled his face into her neck, placing a kiss there that was so soft and delicate that it almost moved her to tears. “You know you can tell me anything, right? If something’s bothering you or worrying you then you don’t have to keep it to yourself. I’m here.” He whispered. 

“I know.” She whispered back, squeezing him gently to comfort herself. “Thank you.” 

Truth is, she knew she could tell Spencer what was happening. She knew that he would immediately inform his team, and with their wonderful minds and Garcia’s infinite systems, they’d have their unsub within days. So what was stopping her?

or more specifically, who was stopping her?

The answer would be Maeve, the woman that Spencer once loved, who he lost so suddenly and so tragically. She’d heard what had happened, and had comforted Spencer when he cried as he told her of the only other woman he’d ever loved, apart from Y/N. He’d confided in her about Maeve around four months into their relationship, and Y/N was grateful that Spencer trusted her enough to tell her such a thing. Losing the person you loved like that? Y/N couldn’t fathom it. Her heart ached for Spencer, and the heartbreak he’d endured.

She didn’t want to worry him over what might be nothing. After what happened with Maeve, she didn’t want to make him suffer all that again, to make him think that it was all happening again. She never wanted to be the reason for his hurt, and she knew that telling him is exactly what it would do- make him anxious, worried. She knew her boyfriend like the back of her hand. He’d go into overdrive trying to protect her, to prevent what happened to Maeve from happening to her. But still, she refused to be the one that set those events into motion. She knew it was stupid, he boyfriend was in the FBI- who are exactly the type of people you’d go to if you had a stalker. 

She had tried to tell him a few times but when she opened her mouth to say the words, nothing would come out. 

The final straw was the letters. 

The first one was pushed through her letterbox on a Friday afternoon. Spencer was at work, thankfully only on a paperwork day instead of being called for a case. There was no name or address on the front of the letter. 

She felt sick. Immediately she knew it was from him. At least she presumed it was a ‘he’, from the possessive tone of voice in the notes. 

She ripped it open, taking out the letter. It was a single sheet of paper, both sides filled with that chicken scratch writing. Her eyes skimmed over the words written before her, tears blurring her vision. It was a love letter. Her stalker even gave her a nickname, ‘Dove’. 

‘My darling dove, you were made for me.’

‘My love for you knows no bounds.’

‘You’ve got such a beautiful laugh, I’ve heard it.’

‘And your skin, so perfect, so soft looking. I’d love to run my fingers along your-’

Y/N let the letter drop to the floor as she felt the bile rise in her throat, dashing to the bathroom and throwing up her stomach contents in the toilet. 

She felt sickened. She couldn’t bring herself to read what was left of the letter, instead screwing it up and throwing it away. The words she had read haunted her, made her feel disgusting. She spent hours in the shower that night, as though she was scrubbing his filthy words off of her skin. 

The letters continued, and with each one, the comments became more and more repulsive. Instead of declaring his undying love for her, her stalker began to get enraged. With each letter he became increasingly angrier, and it shook Y/N to her core. 

‘You whore, I could hear your moaning for that little boyfriend of yours from across the street’

‘When I get my hands on you, you’ll be begging for me to show you mercy’

‘I’ve protected you, watched over you! I’ve taken care of you for months now and this is how you repay me?’

‘Fucking dirty slut. I’ll kill you for that.’

‘What a shame it would be for that pretty flesh to be torn so carelessly, but it seems I’ll have to teach you a lesson, dove.’

‘You’ve made a mistake, choosing him over me.’

All of those led to one final letter. 

Written in red ink, eight simple words with a sinister underlying message. 

‘If I can’t have you, no one can.’

*

Dropping the paper as though it had burned her, she desperately tried to slow the breaths that were increasing rapidly, willing the air to fill her lungs. 

The realisation hit her like a freight train. 

She was in danger, real danger. Now that her life had been threatened, she knew she couldn’t hide it any longer. 

No matter the consequences, she had to come clean to Spencer. 

She scrambled around her apartment, grabbing any evidence she had in the form of letters/threats and made sure she had her phone so she could show them the phone calls from an unknown number. 

She glanced out the window to the street below. It was only midday, and she could see the familiar blue Sedan parked opposite her complex. She just had to get to her car safely, which should be a relatively easy task, given the numerous people who were walking down the bustling street- the perks of living on a main road. 

She made it to her car thankfully unscathed, locking the doors behind her. She didn’t dare look across the road at the car, afraid of what, or who she would see.  As she drove to the BAU, she anxiously tapped her fingers on the steering wheel. She anticipated what Spencer’s reaction was going to be- he’d be angry, definitely. Y/N was torn, she wanted to stand by the decision she’d made two months prior to not involve her boyfriend with what was going on, but now she couldn’t help but wonder if she’d made a poor choice. If she’d have told Spencer earlier, things would’ve been resolved. But by telling him the truth, she couldn’t help but ponder if she was putting him or his team in danger. 

Shaking her head clear the thoughts, she pulled into the car park that was next to the building. Taking a few deep breaths, she grabbed her bag and headed toward the buildings’ entrance. Her palms were sweaty and her throat was dry. What the hell was she going to say? ‘Hey Spence, I have a stalker who’s threatening to kill me that I neglected to tell you about, how’s your day going?’

After being granted access at the front desk, she was given a visitors badge and headed up to the sixth floor of the building. As she stood alone in the elevator, she tried to take a few breaths, feeling the familiar clawing at the back of her throat that indicated she was close to breaking down. She’d been holding it together for so long, been so fucking scared for so long. 

As soon as the doors opened she was greeted with the smiling face of one Penelope Garcia. 

When Spencer and her had begun dating he brought Y/N along to one of Rossi’s pasta nights and the whole team immediately took a liking to her, especially after seeing how happy she made Spencer. However Penelope in particular absolutely adored Y/N, and the two had even hung out together a few times. 

Garcia gasped with a grin as the doors opened. “My sweet Y/N! I got the notification that you’d checked in downstairs and thought I’d come greet you!” She moved toward her, hugging Y/N tightly. “Are you here to see our boy wonder? He’s around here somewhere-” She pulled back when she noticed the tenseness in Y/N’s shoulders. When Garcia met her teary eyes she gasped at the sight. “What’s wrong?” 

Y/N finally let the tears tremble down her cheeks, reaching into her bag to grab the handfuls of threating letters from the person who’d made her life hell for two long months. She handed them to Garcia, who after years of working that job knew from the first few words what they were dealing with. 

Y/N met her worried eyes. “It’s bad, Penny. Really bad.”

Garcia nodded, shocked but still placing a comforting arm on Y/N’s back. “Reid- He never mentioned-” 

Y/N shook her head. “I didn’t tell him. I didn’t want him to worry over nothing but- this is the first time he’s threatened my life and I’m scared, Pen. I’m really scared.” 

Garcia burst into action, coaxing Y/N with gentle words to head into the bullpen. As soon as they walked through the glass doors, all of the team member’s heads turned toward them. Spencer’s eyes immediately fell on his girlfriend’s tear stained cheeks and within seconds he was by her side. 

“Y/N, what’s going on? Are you okay?” 

She shook her head, moving forward and wrapping her arms around him. He didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around her, holding her to him as she cried into his chest, her shoulders shaking as she let out everything she’d buried so deep inside. 

He looked over at Garcia, bewildered. She simply walked up to Hotch’s office. The team could faintly hear Garcia presenting him with the papers Y/N had brought with her, explaining what she had told her when she arrived. 

Minutes later Hotch came out of his office, walking down into the bullpen to where the team all looked at one another, confusion on their features. 

“Y/N?” He asked as he approached her, and she pulled back from spencer to see him, wiping her tear stained cheeks. “You’re gonna need to tell us everything. You may be in immediate danger.”

Y/N nodded and Hotch headed off toward the round table room, Garcia scurrying in behind him. The rest of the team, with concerned glances to one another, followed into the room. This left Y/N and Spencer alone in the bullpen. 

She felt Spencer gripping her hand, squeezing gently. Worry laced in his tone, he moved to stand before her and locked onto her eyes. “Please tell me what’s going on.” 

Y/N nodded and cleared her throat, her voice quiet with shame as she spoke. “I have a stalker. He sends letters, calls just to breathe down the line and scare me. In his recent letter, he said he’s gonna kill me.”

Spencer’s eyes widened, his hand dropping from hers and he turning and stalked toward the board room. He had to see the evidence for himself. 

He reached the room and the groups gazes all shifted to him, but he could’ve cared less. He reached out for one of the sheets of paper, eyes quickly scanning over the threatening words as Y/N entered the room behind him. 

“When did this start, Y/N?” JJ asked, that caring, motherly tone present in her voice. 

“About two months ago.” 

“Did you notice anything odd about the neighbourhood beforehand? Cars that weren’t normally there, people stood on street corners at odd times of day?” Derek queried, his eyes scanning over some of the notes she’d received. 

She nodded. “There was a car I noticed, right at the start. I didn’t think much of it until I started taking note of the timings. It would sit there all day, but be gone overnight. Then it would return the next day.” 

“Do remember the colour, or make of car?” 

“Yeah, a dark blue Sedan. Then a few days later the phone calls started.”

“Garcia I need you to run through Y/N’s phone records, see if you can trace the number they were calling from.” Hotch ordered and Garcia quickly left the room, heading to her bat cave. 

“Here, listen to this.” JJ started, holding up one of the first letters. “I’m doing this because I love you, pretty dove. So very much. It’s okay, you’ll see.” She looked up to her team. “He’s planning something.” 

Hotch turned his attention to her. “Y/N’s safety is our primary concern. This unsub seems to have fixated on her, for whatever reason. Y/N, do you have any ex boyfriends or enemies we need to know about?” 

“I have five ex’s, but I don’t think any of them would be capable of this.” She reasoned, but there was a seed of doubt in the back of her mind. 

At her words, Spencer stood up, slamming the letters down on the table with an audible thud before leaving the room. Y/N stared after him hopelessly, Hotch clearing his throat before speaking again. 

“I’ll need a list of their names.” 

Derek piped up. “We also need to know locations of spots that you frequent, anywhere you may have met this guy. Coffee shops, restaurants, even the library. No detail is too small, okay?” 

Y/N nodded, turning back to stare out the door that Spencer had stormed out of moments before. “I’m just going to go check on him.” She murmured, earning an apologetic smile from JJ. 

* 

She found him outside the building, sat on one of the stone steps of the staircase that led up to the buildings entrance. He had his head in his hands, trying to calm down the thoughts that sped through his overworking mind. 

She sat beside him, draping his coat that she’d grabbed from his desk over his shoulders to combat the cold winter air. “You’ll catch a cold.” She muttered, offering a small smile as he looked over at her. Despite how he felt, he let the smallest of smiles find its way onto his lips at the comment. She had a stalker threatening her life and she was worried about him catching a cold?

They sat in silence for a little before Y/N broke it. “I’m so sorry, Spencer.” 

“Why are you sorry? It’s not your fault.” He mumbled, looking out to the street, watching people walk by. When Y/N didn’t answer, he spoke again. “You could’ve told me, you know?”

“I know, and I’m sorry I didn’t.” She whispered sincerely. 

“Why didn’t you say something, Y/N? I would’ve dropped everything to make sure you were safe.” He promised, trying to make his voice sound strong, but failing as it cracked with his words. 

“I didn’t think it was important. He wasn’t threatening at the start, and I thought I could handle it.” Now the words were leaving her mouth, she knew she sounded stupid. 

“You didn’t think it was important?” Spencer repeated back to her, his breaths heavy as he failed to understand her reasoning. “Y/N you are the most important thing in the world to me. Okay? Please tell me you know that.” He turned his body toward her. 

“I know. I know and I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner. It’s just I know- after everything that happened before with Maeve-“ She paused for a moment. “I didn’t want to worry you over nothing.”

His breath hitched when she said Maeve’s name, and Y/N could almost see him replaying the moment he lost her in his mind. The curse of an eidetic memory. 

“I’m not going to let that happen to you- no, not you. Never you.” He sniffed, reaching over to take her hand in his. 

She nodded, tears filling her eyes once more. She cuddled into his side, her head dropping on his shoulder. She sniffled. “I’m scared, Spencer.” 

“It’s okay. He’s not coming anywhere near you, Y/N. I swear to you, he’s not going to hurt you. Not while I’m here.” He brought her hand up and pressed a kiss to the back of it. 

*

Over the next few days, the team spent hours analysing ever piece of evidence Y/N had received, and Garcia went through tons of security footage, trying to get a good look at whoever was in the blue Sedan. She’d ran the license plates, but they’d come back as being fake, so that had been a pretty dead end, and the phone number she’d traced had come from a payphone, so there was no lead there either. 

Spencer was evidently over-working himself, not taking breaks from work to eat or sleep. He reread the words a hundred times, desperately looking for what it was he must’ve missed. He was filled with this overwhelming need to protect her, to keep Y/N safe. To succeed where he’d failed previously. He couldn’t afford to make the same mistake he’d made with Maeve. He’d let his emotions cloud his judgement and it cost Maeve her life. He wouldn’t make that same mistake again. 

There wasn’t time for that, not when Y/N was in danger. 

Y/N spent most of her time alongside Spencer at the BAU, mostly because he insisted that she was somewhere he could keep an eye on her at all times. She only went home in the evenings so she could change and sleep in her own bed, but always with a police escort that Spencer had himself done a thorough background check on and knew could be trusted. 

Eventually, It had been an entire week. Spencer had only had a handful of sleep, only when the exhaustion became too much did he pass out and actually get a few hours of sleep before he was right back at it. Members of the team who attempted to gently voice their concern for him received a scowl in response, with Y/N even trying to get through to him, but he just shrugged her off. Ultimately, Hotch had to pull him aside to talk. 

Hotch walked into the room where Y/N sat reading silently in the corner while Spencer’s eyes ran over the words he’d already read a hundred times. 

“Reid, Can I speak to you?” 

Spencer’s head snapped up, pissed that he was being interrupted from the task before him. He grunted under his breath, standing up and walking out of the room. 

Hotch brought Spencer up to his office, closing the door behind them so there was some dilution to the raised voices that were definitely going to come from this conversation. He sighed, turning to face the younger man and crossing his arms. “The Bureau don’t want us using any more of our time on this case. The unsub has been inactive for a week, and we have other cases building up that take priority.” 

Spencer scoffed. “You want us to stop? You can’t be serious.”

“I’m afraid not. The order came from above me, I have no power here. The best we can do for now is send Y/N home with police protection until this guy resurfaces.” 

“You wanna send her home? No way, Hotch! There’s some son of a bitch after her and you want her to be at home?” He was angrier than Hotch had seen him be in a long while. 

Hotch sighed. “Reid. It’s out of my hands. I recognise how hard this is for you, but we have no choice.”

“But I- I can’t protect her if she’s not with me! I can’t keep her safe.” His tone changed from angry to more of a begging. “Please, Hotch. There’s got to be something you can do.”

“I’m sorry.”

Spencer huffed, his anger returning. “Bullshit! You know as well as I do that she’s vulnerable as soon as she leaves here. Police presence or not, if something happens to her-” 

Hotch shot him a warning look, which made Spencer stop mid-sentence.

“You’re done with this case for now, understand? Until he resurfaces, we have other priorities.” Hotch spoke. Spencer scoffed, walking and brushing past his unit chief. “That’s an order, Reid.” He warned. 

Spencer ignored him, heading back to the room he’d left Y/N in, his mind refocused on getting back to his previous task-  despite Hotch’s orders. 

He stepped into the room, slamming the door closed behind him, earning a surprised squeak from Y/N, who still sat in the corner with her book in hand. He looked over at her, running a hand through his hair frustratedly. “He wants you to go home, and we have to put the case on hold because we have others to work on. Can you believe that? How could he ask that of me?” He laughed humourlessly as Y/N shut her book, placing it next to her. 

She sighed, standing, knowing he wasn’t going to like what she had to say. “Maybe that’s not such a bad thing.”

His eyebrows furrowed. “What?” 

It was just the protective side of him coming out, and at first Y/N thought it was endearing, but he couldn’t neglect his own needs to favour hers any more. She wouldn’t let him. 

“Spencer, you gotta stop this. I know how hard you’re working, and I’m so grateful, but you’re killing yourself here.” Her voice was gentle, hoping she’d be able to appeal to him. 

“No! No Y/N I’m not stopping until we get this guy, until you’re safe.” He snapped. 

“You heard what Hotch said, you have other cases that need to take priority.” She moved toward him, still trying to reason with him. She was still scared to death, and she didn’t particularly want to leave Spencer’s side- after all he made her feel safe. But there were people who needed him and his team, and if she was no longer in imminent danger, his talents were needed elsewhere. It made her feel sick, but it’s the way it was. They were just going to have to wait for this guy to make his next move. 

“But Y/N, you are my priority. Don’t you get that?” He asked, moving back as she came toward him. The motion hurt her, so she stood still. 

“I do, I promise you I do, but there’s people out there who need that beautiful mind of yours more than I do right now.” 

He scoffed. “So you just expect me to give up?” 

“Of course not, but Hotch is right. What if this guy never makes any other moves? What if he just wanted to scare me? You can’t waste your time. It’s too valuable.” 

“And what if the second you walk out of those doors he gets you?” Spencer shouted, his arms coming out by his sides to exaggerate his point. 

“Then you’ll find me. If that happened, which is a worse-case scenario, I have faith that you and this team would find me and bring me home.” 

“And if I can’t? If I fail, again? If I have to watch you die like I watched-” His breath hitched, his voice catching. He cleared his throat before speaking again. “No, No. I will not lose you, do you understand? I will not stop looking for this son of a bitch, not ever. I’m not letting you go home, Y/N. I’m sorry, that’s final.” 

“Spencer, you can’t keep me here. You’d be disobeying Hotch’s direct orders-” 

He shook his head. “I’m not having this conversation with you, Y/N. I’ll talk to Hotch, change his mind. Just- stay here. Please.”  The last word was quiet and pleading, a stark contrast from the tone he was using before. He picked up the evidence files he was going through and walked away, feet stomping as his anger still radiated off of him. 

* 

Y/N had stood there for a minute, collecting herself before she took a shaky deep breath, bringing her hand up to wipe the tears that trickled down her cheeks. 

She walked out to the bullpen, ignoring how Spencer had asked her to stay. Her eyes met Derek’s who offered her an apologetic smile. 

“Hey.” He called out to her as she passed by. “Whatever the kid said, he didn’t mean it. He just wants to keep you safe.” 

She gave a sad smile. “I know. Um, is it alright if I just step out the front for some air? I’m feeling a little boxed in.” 

“Sure thing. I’ll keep you company, make sure you get back alright.” He stood up from his desk chair, grabbing his jacket and accompanying her downstairs. 

When they got there Y/N turned to him. “Is it alright if I have a moment alone? I’ll stay where you can see me, I just need a minute.” 

Derek was hesitant, but nodded. She pushed open the doors, out into the cold night. She remained stood by the front doors, where they bright lights from indoors seeped outside, lighting up the pavement. She took a few deep breaths, letting the cold air fill her lungs, hoping it’ll help alleviate the stinging pain in her heart. She looked up at the sky, willing herself to keep her tears at bay. She appreciated what Spencer was doing, and adored his instinct to protect her, keep her safe. She knew how stubborn he could be at times, but now she thought about it, maybe when she sided with Hotch earlier it made it seem like she didn’t have his back, which was certainly not the case. 

Derek watched as Y/N collected herself, seeing that she was about to turn and come back inside. Suddenly someone bumped into his side, his attention turning from Y/N to the person who collided with him. He looked over to see a young man he didn’t recognise. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was going. My apologies.” The man apologised before walking off. 

Derek furrowed his brow, before turning back to look outside. 

Y/N wasn’t there. 

He bolted forward toward the doors, flinging them open and looking left and right for any sight of her. 

She was long gone. And so was whoever took her. 

Hearing a crinkle beneath his feet, Derek looked down at the sound, noticing a scrap piece of newspaper on the floor where Y/N had been stood. 

He picked it up, unfolding the paper. On it, written in the familiar blood red chicken scratch was the same threatening message Y/N had received before. 

‘If I can’t have her, no one can.’ 

* 

Derek placed the paper down on the roundtable, that the team was now gathered around, shock and worry on their faces. 

Hotch closed his eyes with a sigh as he looked at the paper, guilt rushing over him. Just then Spencer came into the room, immediately picking up on the mood that had settled over the team. 

“What’s’‘-” His eyes landed on the message, the realisation spreading over his features. “Where’s Y/N?” He asked, a sort of denial in his voice. 

“He has her.” Derek confirmed, bowing his head down in shame that he hadn’t protected her like he was supposed to. 

“Morgan, What happened? You took her out to get some air and then what?” Emily asked, trying to establish where it’d gone wrong. 

“I took my eyes off of her for a minute, some guy bumped into me and it distracted me, and when I looked back she was gone.” 

Emily’s mouth opened as she connected the dots. “It must’ve been a distraction, one guy bumps into you so that you take your eyes off of her while the other guy grabs her.” 

“So what, we’re looking for a partner here as well?” JJ posed, looking up at her team. 

“It would seem so. He waited for his opportunity, and when it came he took it.” Rossi chimed in. 

“This is now an active investigation, we have a missing woman who’s already been gone for nearly an hour. We’ve got to work fast.” Hotch ordered, which sent the team out of their seats, each with a task assigned to them. However, Spencer still sat in one of the chairs, trembling fingers trailing over the words before him. The air in the room seemed thinner, his lungs working harder to fill themselves. 

“Reid? Reid.” Morgan tried, but all he got from Spencer was little incoherent mumbles. 

Finally, he looked up to meet Morgan’s eyes, the words he’d been whispering falling from his lips in a more audible whimper. “He’s gonna kill her.”  He choked on his words, the realisation crashing down on him. “I’m going to lose her too.” 

* 

Time was a precious thing. 

Spencer had never been more aware of how quickly the seconds passed than he was at that moment. 

He was on his knees, hunched over the toilet, hands gripping the sides in a vice-like grip, desperately trying to push down the nauseating feeling creeping its way up his throat. After the note that Morgan found, Spencer had rushed into the toilets, standing over the toilet bowl as he dry-heaved, holding himself back from being sick. He took heavy breaths, eyes screwing shut as he tried to think of anything other than the danger that Y/N was in. 

He tried so hard to ignore the familiarity of the situation. 

The thought set in motion a memory that he’d much rather forget, one that he pushed so far back in his mind so he could deny it had ever happened, that he’d ever allowed it to happen. 

Ultimately, it was the curse of his brilliant memory, having the ability to perfectly recall things that happened years before. 

As if he could ever forget that day, eidetic memory or not. 

“Diane, Diane, there’s still a way out of this.” 

“You never wanted me. Never! You lied!”

Diane has her arm around Maeve, gun pointed at her head. The bullet she’d shot into Spencer’s shoulder felt numb, the scorching pain felt irrelevant to the fear spiking his heart. 

“I didn’t. Diane, I offered you a deal and you can still take it. Me for her. Let me take her place.” His eyes lock on Maeve’s, so full of fear, and he tries to reassure that she’ll be fine- because he knows she will. How many times has he talked down an unsub waving a gun around? She would be okay, she had to be. 

“You would do that?” 

“Yes.” 

“You would kill yourself for her?” 

“Yes.” 

Of course he would. In a heartbeat. 

“Thomas Merton.” 

Maeve’s voice was small but sure. What scared Spencer the most was how certain she sounded, as though she’d accepted that this was her fate; her end. 

“Who’s Thomas Merton?”

“He knows.” 

She loved him. And he loved her. Oh how bittersweet. 

“Who’s Thomas Merton, who is he?” 

“He’s the one thing you can never take from us.” 

Its only a moment’s hesitation, a moment that he should’ve reached for a gun, a moment where he should’ve taken his shot. 

“No.” Diane scowled. 

Time is a precious thing.

and Maeve’s was up.

“Wait-” 

The shot still rung clear in Spencer’s ears, a sound he was sure he would hear for the rest of his days. His breaths were heaving again, his eyes flying open as he willed the image of Maeve’s body to leave his head. But when his eyes screwed shut again, it was someone else in her place. 

It wasn’t Maeve’s body on the floor anymore. Instead, in her place lay Y/N, blood gushing from the open wound at the side of her head, her lifeless body cold against the concrete floor. 

That’s the thought that made him sick, throwing up into the toilet at the thought of watching Y/N die the same way he watched Maeve. 

Taking gasping breaths, he sat back against the side of the cubicle, hands running down his flustered face, feeling the streaks of tears that trembled down his cheeks. 

He shook his head, as if that would erase the horrific thoughts swimming around. He reminded himself that Y/N was still alive, and they had no reason as of yet to believe that she wasn’t. It was that thought that made him pull himself to stand, raking his hands through his hair and trying to calm his quivering hands. 

Y/N was still out there, waiting for him to save her. 

He grit his teeth together as he walked out of the toilets. 

He wouldn’t hesitate this time. He was not going to lose her. 

*

He walked back into the roundtable room, ignoring the looks he received from the team. They had been bouncing theories off of one another, trying to use their profile to figure out who their unsub was, and where they would’ve taken Y/N. 

“Is it possible a woman is our unsub, or perhaps even the partner?” Emily posed, her eyes scanning over one of the letters. 

Derek shook his head. “I don’t think a woman would use language like this, it’s very derogatory, it exerts a power over Y/N.” 

The team fell quiet in thought, only interrupted when Garcia came scurrying in, her laptop in her hands. “You’ll never guess what I just found!”

Everyone looked up to her, Hotch speaking. “What is it, Garcia?” 

“I looked over the list of Y/N’s exes, and only one of them jumped out to me as a little suspicious. So I did some digging.” She tapped a few keys on her laptop before grabbing her remote and  broadcasting to the team what she’d found on the TV. “Daniel ‘Danny’ Stone, 29, dated Y/N three years ago. He was her last boyfriend before she met Reid.”

“Three years? You don’t think he’s still bitter about the relationship ending?” Emily asked, confused. 

“Three years is a long time. Why surface now?” JJ chimed. 

“Reid, did Y/N ever mention her previous relationship ending on a rough note?” Rossi asked, turning to face the younger boy. 

Spencer frowned. “She said the breakup was a little rocky, but nothing awful. The last time she spoke about him was a few months ago, said he got in some sort of accident?” He looked to Garcia for confirmation, and she nodded. 

“Indeed. Stone was involved in a road collision four months ago.” 

JJ hummed, looking through the medical reports on her iPad. “Says here he suffered brain damage, specifically to his pre-frontal cortex.” 

“Well that would explain why this stalker seemingly came from nowhere. People who suffer damage like this are impulsive, unable to make rational choices.” Derek posed. 

“So what’s the theory here? He wakes up after this accident, and because of his injury chooses to track down his ex? Three years after they break up?”

Morgan shook his head. “It isn’t a choice. Not anymore. He has to do it. He’s become fixated on her. He knows she’s with Reid, and like he said, If he can’t have her, the neither can Reid.”

“Okay, but why stalk her? What does he gain from that? Instead of just taking her and getting what he really wants?” Emily questioned. 

“This newfound impulsivity would make him a risk-taker. He’ll do things that the average person wouldn’t dream of trying. But it’s unlikely that Stone actually staked out Y/N’s home, or delivered the letters to her door. He wouldn’t have the self-control to span this out over months. He just pulled the strings.” 

“So that was his partner, then.” JJ deduced, earing nods from the team. “Then  what does the partner gain from this? Why help Stone?” 

“Maybe Stone manipulated them. Perhaps he has some form of information on them he’s using as blackmail?” 

“Did you get an address on Stone, Garcia?” Hotch asked, and Garcia nodded enthusiastically. 

“You know I did, It’s already been sent to your phones.” 

“Alright, let’s go.” 

The team all stood, heading for the doors. Spencer was quick to get up and follow, hope sparking in him now that they had an address. He was just about to leave the room when Hotch’s voice stopped him. 

“Reid, you know I can’t let you come with us.” His voice was firm, he knew there could be no room for error here. Not after what happened last time. 

“Like hell you can’t.” Reid snapped, turning around to face him. He’d regret his smart mouth later when Hotch undoubtedly told him off for it, but at that moment who couldn’t have cared less. 

“We will get her and bring her home, but you can’t be involved in this. It’s a conflict of interest, you know that.” 

“Oh, so it wasn’t a conflict of interest when you went after Foyet?” 

It was a cheap shot, one that Spencer really regretted the second he said it, but amends could be made later. 

Hotch’s face didn’t falter, despite the petty jab. “Yeah, and look where that got me.” 

Spencer’s defesnive stance dropped, his arms falling by his sides. “Hotch. You were there when when Maeve died. Do you remember it?” 

“Of course.” 

“Not like I do. I can see every second of it every time I close my eyes. I can’t go through that again. I almost didn’t make it out the other side, If it happened again I don’t know if I could cope-” He stopped, his voice catching in his throat. “Just- Please.”

Hotch grunted, giving in. “Fine, but you can’t allow your emotions to cloud your thinking. I know it will be difficult but I need your head to be in this.Y/N’s life depends on it.” 

Spencer nodded and they headed down toward the SUV’s. 

*

They pulled up to the address, lights blaring and sirens sounding. They all quickly jumped out and regrouped, strapping their kevlar vests to their chests as they moved. They were stood in front of an abandoned apartment complex, one that had ben uninhabited for years. 

 “Alright Morgan, Prentiss I want you to go around the back, find a way in through there, see if you can find this partner of his. JJ, Rossi and Reid you’re with me. ” Hotch ordered, as they all drew their guns and prepared to head in. 

As they stealthily walked through the building, they listened for any noise that indicated where the unsub was. Hotch, who was leading the group, pushed open a door to the staircase, and they were about to head up when they heard a bang coming from the floor below them. 

They headed down the stairs, seeing that they were entering the buildings basement. They rounded the corner, guns at the ready, and stepping into a small boiler room. 

In the centre of the room, Daniel stood. He held a struggling Y/N to his chest, his arm around her neck and gun placed at her temple. 

Spencer recalled how it the sight was all too familiar, how Diane had held Maeve the same way. 

Daniel’s voice broke him from his thoughts. “If you step any closer, she dies.” 

“Okay, okay. We’ll stay back, but I need you to put down the gun.” Hotch tried, shooting a look over his shoulder to Spencer, a look that told him to stay put. 

Daniel shook his head. “No. You’re going to ruin everything!”

“Ruin what?” JJ asked. 

“My chance do what’s right. Y/N doesn’t want me. But I love her, can’t she see that? I would do anything for her, and still she would choose him over me?” Daniel’s eyes moved to meet with Spencer’s, narrowing. 

“Daniel, we know what you went through. We know about your accident, how you’ve felt so out of control since, but if you come with us we can get you the help you need.” Rossi was next to attempt to convince him, but to no avail.

“No- No!” Daniel scowled, clenching his teeth as his gaze fixated on Spencer, who’s eyes were locked with Y/N’s, trying to silently reassure her that she was going to be okay. “She’s mine. I protected her, I’ve looked out for her. She’s finally going to understand.” He looked down at Y/N, his grip on her tightening, causing her to let out a frightened yelp. 

Spencer gulped, tearing his gaze from Y/N and onto the unsub, putting on a strong and unbothered facade. He wouldn’t let himself be clouded by his emotions, not this time. “You’re right. You kept her safe, and I’m very grateful that you protected her when I failed to.”

“Thats right. You failed her. I’m so much better for her.” He seethed through his teeth. “ And that’s why, if she won’t chose me, she’ll have to die with me.”

“You don’t want to do that, Daniel. Put down the gun. We’ll bring you in, and if you tell us all about this partner of yours, we’ll tell everyone that you co-operated.” JJ suggested, her gun still aimed up at him. 

“Why are you doing this?” Y/N gasped out, still struggling against his hold. 

“Because if I can’t have you, the neither can he. No, No.” He grinned, bringing the gun up to his his own head. From where it was angled, the bullet would pass through his own head, and lodge itself in Y/N’s too. “You’re mine, Y/N.” 

This time, Spencer didn’t hesitate. 

One single gunshot. 

Daniel collapsed to the floor, a bullet between his eyes. 

Y/N fell to the ground with him in a fit of sobs, scrambling to get away from the man who lay dead on the floor, the pool of blood growing around him.  

Spencer holstered his gun, immediately surging forward to wrap a trembling Y/N up in his arms. 

“It’s okay, you’re okay. I’ve got you, you’re safe.” He cooed, rubbing a hand on her back in a soothing manner. 

She sobbed into his chest as he held her, tears forming in his own eyes at the sound of her cries. But Spencer allowed himself a moment to breathe, looking over Y/N’s shoulder at the man he’d just shot without hesitation. 

And he’d wouldn’t be losing any sleep over it, either.  

He tightened his arms around her, thankful that she was safe. He brought her up to stand, his arms still tight around her. He looked toward his teammates, nodding gratefully at them as he walked Y/N out of the building. As he passed, he overheard JJ and Hotch’s conversation. 

“Emily and Morgan found the partner fleeing out the back. They say he’s agreed to talk.” 

With an internal sigh of relief, he held Y/N closer as they stepped out the doors of the building, guiding her toward the medical staff so she could be checked for injuries, despite how she told him she was fine. After it was concluded that she’d come out pretty unscathed, with only a few cuts and bruises, Spencer came and sat down next to her. She smiled weakly up at him, and he knew it would take a while for her usual bright smile to return, but she was alive- and right then that was all that mattered. 

He immediately took her hand in his, gripping it tightly. 

“Is it over?” She asked quietly, and he nodded. 

“Yeah, they got the partner, and he’s going to co-operate in return for a reduced sentence, but he’ll still be going away for a long time.”

She nodded, her head dropping onto his shoulder. “Thank you so much, Spencer. You saved me.” She whispered. 

“You don’t have to thank me. I’m sorry about the argument we had, I was being a jerk. I just wanted to protect you, but in the end you still ended up getting hurt.” He frowned, looking down at the gravel ground. 

“It’s okay, I understand. I’m sorry you had to relive all of this again, I can’t imagine how difficult that must’ve been for you.” She sighed, guilt overwhelming her. 

“Hey, no. You’re safe, that’s all that matters.” He promised and she nodded against him. 

Giving her hand a squeeze, he turned slightly to press a lingering kiss to her forehead. 

“Let’s go home, sweetheart.” 

[shushiyuii]

if you're doing requests, than can I possibly ask for some G!revivebur and t!tommy hurt/comfort? (with soft noms involved if thats okay)

hope you're doing well today and i love your writing too

Thank you so much! I'm glad you love my writings! mwkdakdn and I've actually had a great day today! So thank you for asking! (Also of course noms are okay uwu)

Warnings: Soft vore, mentions of death and torment of a tiny

Words: 1.1K+

His train had finally arrived…

Meanwhile, Tommy was working on his base, being a borrower, it wasn’t quite as easy as you wish to get the materials needed.

He was exhausted from mining all day and now he just had to organise his chests, which was just another annoying task. Tommy huffed in annoyance at this, at least he had enough minerals to last him ages.

He hated organising his chests but if he did it would at least be easier to find things, as to why he was doing this millennial task.

Chest after chest, block after block, ore after ore. It was finally almost done. Just a couple more to go, he went over to another chest and found some… interesting things… It held his old L’manburg uniform and his flag, things he put away after Wilbur had well, died.

He picked up his old uniform and noticed something strange on it, it was stained with blue, covered in stitches. Alarmed he began to examine the uniform and there fell out a note, from Ghostbur.

“Hey, Tommy! I came to borrow some things and noticed your old uniform! I fixed it up for you! I know you said not to go through your stuff, but I figured you’d like it!” – Ghostbur

He huffed as the note itself was covered in blue, Ghostbur had a tendency of leaking his blue everywhere, It couldn’t be helped…’. He looked down and saw water beginning to seep at the pages, he wiped at his eyes.

He wasn’t going to cry! He was Tommy Danger Kraken Innit! A man! And men don’t cry!

It wasn’t his fault! It was Sam’s! He didn’t let him protect Ghostbur! It could’ve been stopped and now the only remnant of his brother is gone.

Gone to the afterlife, once and for all. Maybe his symphony could finally be at peace with everything being gone now, he could move on…

Little did he know that wouldn’t quite be the case as a thing popped right into his face, much to his hate and surprise…

‘Wilbur Soot has joined the game’.

He couldn’t be back, Dream really didn’t revive him right?! Wasn’t revival supposed to be immediate?! Whatever exhaustion was trying to take over his body was gone as adrenaline pumped through his veins. He immediately booked it through his door towards L’manburg.

His vision went from black to clear, he fiddled with his hands, finally becoming aware of his surroundings, the blue and gold catching his eyes with a torn L’manburg flag, with the crater in front of him. He pinched his arm to make sure he wasn’t going crazy, and he wasn’t!

He was alive again with blood rushing through his newly revived veins! He was alive again! Dream his hero! He had really been brought back! He could feel his excitement jolting every part of his body, so many things to do and see, so many things to make amends for!...

Panic filled with thoughts rushed through his head, what would the others think? Oh god, back when he was dead himself, he remembered how Wilbur was… This is practically going to be doomsday all over again if he didn’t stop it.

He had never run so fast before, not even in the war. It seemed his body agreed with him this once that this was very very bad. And it wasn’t going to be an easy trip for the borrower. Every hole he jumped over, and soon L’manburg came into his view.

His fingers twitched, not used to being able to function. He could feel bruises over his body and particularly felt an aching pain from his chest, probably some remnant from the stab wound, but that wasn’t going to stop him out, now that he was finally free.

He breathed in the fresh air, taking a deep breath, and filling his lungs as much as he could. How he missed being able, you learnt to appreciate such things.

He closed his eyes in a sort of relief, happy, satisfied but this was only the beginning.

“Wilbur!”, he heard a voice, a familiar one. One he hadn’t heard in a while; he knew he was close not far. He was used to having to keep an ear out for the borrower, he was just surprised at himself he wasn’t rusty.

He turned around to see a small figure approaching, seeming to run with all they had, wow, Tommy must’ve really missed him!

Soon, Tommy was just a couple of meters away from Wilbur. Not one of them talked at first, “Hey Tommy! I missed you!”. Tommy’s expression turned somewhat dark, upset, grim. He titled his head in confusion and crouched down as much as he could.

“You shouldn’t be here.”, Wilbur snorted slightly, then turned to giggles and those giggles turned to psychotic laughter as he processed the point that Tommy just brought up, he wasn’t supposed to be here? “I’m not supposed to be here Tommy? What about you?”.

No answer came, he laughed again, “Oh, Tommy, Tommy, Tommy.”. He brought a finger to Tommy’s face, gently squishing it. “Listen, I spent 13 and a half, 13 and a half years! IN THAT GOD DAMN HELL!”. The gentleness faded as he increased pressure on Tommy, causing Tommy to fall over from under the pressure and try to fight back.

The pressure lightened as he removed his hand, he was about to speak when he saw Tommy back away from him, he was confused for a minute.

But whatever it was, Tommy was mumbling and crying, flinching whenever he made a small movement. Usually, Tommy would be fighting back right now?

He put any other thoughts he had aside, “Tommy, what’s wrong?”. Sure, he might be cruel sometimes but that never stopped his older brother instincts. The boy cried louder. He cupped the boy into his hands and brought him closer to his face.

“Tommy, I’m here, what’s wrong?”, “I-, You-, Dream-, Can’t, S-scared”. He hushed the boy and nuzzled him, he flinched at first but soon reluctantly gave into the contact. It was clear to him that Tommy had changed drastically, more than he thought, he was traumatised. Who dared to hurt his little brother?

“Tommy, who?”, “Huh?”, “Who did it?”. He sniffled, “D-dream”. His eyes widened suddenly, a vision flashed of a tiny Tommy caught in an explosion, a memory from Ghostbur. He remained silent.

Without a word, he brought Tommy close to his mouth, gently placing him in. Tommy flinched as he was placed on his brother’s tongue, “W-Wil?”, “You’re safe”. He mumbled as he moved his tongue to coat Tommy, which then lead to tilting his head back and swallowing.

He traced his brother's descent with his finger, and soon felt him land in his stomach, he waited for his little brother to get tucked in and fall asleep, to which he did. Then he decided that he’d keep Tommy in there for a while, where he’d be safe.

[lottiebagleywritesobx]

Love Language

At the time they'd made it the language had felt like no one would ever be able to understand it.

They were only 9 and JJ had been granted permission to stay at her house, her parents used to be around a lot, although they weren't anymore, and they'd always welcomed her blonde best friend leading to his near constant presence at their home.

It was late for two kids, maybe 10 pm, and they'd been wrapped in blankets in her box sized room that felt so much bigger when they were young.

They always got each other in a way no one else understood for reasons way more complex than a secret language they would use to write each other messages, but at 9, all they needed to know was that the language was another thing that tied them together.

It was simple: to spell a word you combine the first letters of the other words.

So to write Hello  you would write Hungry Elephants Love Lollipops Okay

It had stuck a lot at first, they used it everyday and it drove Pope and John B insane, but as they got older it died out.

It was used a few times at 12 when they had an annoying teacher who made students read notes out if they were caught passing them, to everyone else it sounded like gibberish.

It was used once at 15, the world help spelled out when an older Kook boy wouldn't leave her alone and she knew he was reading her phone screen over her shoulder, not wanting to trigger him.

Now, at 17, she had laughed out loud when she'd unfolded the note tucked into her locker.

In JJ's scrawl that only she could read with ease.

 Ukraine

Rollercoaster

Penguin Ranch Eyelash Tractor Tangerine Yoghurt

You are pretty. She blushed a little, looking around for any sign of the familiar blonde boy but he was nowhere to be seen, she tucked the note into her bag, hating the way he made her heart race, before shoving the books she didn't need over the weekend into her locker and walking down the corridor and out of the front doors.

When she arrived at the twinkie her friends were already there "Took your time," John B smirks from his open window, occupying the front seat

"She was probably busy flirting with Mack," Sarah teases from the passenger side

"For the last time Sarah, he just needed tutoring in bio,"

"You are shit at bio," Sarah smirks even wider

"Better than you sweetheart," The girl grins, climbing into the back and diving out of Sarah's reach as she moves to try and flick her. Both girls laughing loudly

"I'll get the door then," Pope chides

"Thanks P, i can't get too close  or Sarah will attack me," She grins, Pope rolls his eyes but sends her a grin as he leans forwards to pull the door to the twinkie closed.

She moves through the seats to her usual space, she always sat next to JJ, no matter what. They could be drinking at the chateau, relaxing at the beach, adventuring on the boat. No matter what they were next to each other. It wasn't uncommon when one of them was feeling tired, or clingy, or touch starved for her to end up in his lap, his arms wrapped around her stomach and his chin on her shoulder.

She leans up pressing a quick kiss to his cheek, it wasn't uncommon in their friendship, often used as a greeting, a thanks or even just out of the blue, and so the other's don't think anything of it even though JJ feels himself melting into a puddle. What is a little different though is the way she grabs his hand giving it a tight squeeze before pulling her own away and settling down in her seat as John B starts up the van. He knows what it is. It's a silent thanks for the note, not wanting to say anything in front of their friends but it was a sign she got it and she was grateful for it.

He wraps his arm around her shoulder, his touch gentle but Pope gives him a knowing look, the touch is supposed to claim her. She either doesn't notice or  doesn't seem to mind though, instead leaning into his now open side as she chats happily with Kie.

**

It's monday morning and JJ is in first period history. He fucking hates history, yet, it had become his favourite subject simply because it was the only one all 6 pogues shared. He opens his school bag with sigh, placing the textbook on his desk and starting to fish around the bottom of the bag for a loose pen.

Pope turns around from the seat in front of him, placing a pen on his desk with a knowing smile. JJ drops his bag to the floor, opening the text book only for a note to fall out.

Her neat writing fills the page and the smile on his face is immediate.

Umbrella

Rocket

Happy Ant Neck Drop Surf Olive Mars Egg

JJ tries to ignore the feeling of a red hot blush creeping up his neck as he turns to look at the next desk along, she's already looking at him with a smirk shooting him a week before turning to face the front, god if JJ can't feel himself falling.

**

It continues for weeks.

Tucked into the wind screen wiper of her old shitty truck.

Taped to the sandwiches she would bring him to lunch.

On her pillow when she went to bed one night.

Stuffed into the pocket of the hoodie she borrowed.

Her school bag.

The bathroom mirror at the chateau.

They both started to home a large collection of notes. Her's placed neatly in a drawer in her bedroom. His tucked in a box under the floor board that lifts up in the room he claims as his at the chateau.

**

"What you writing?" John B questions as he steps onto the porch

"Just a note for y/n,"

"You guys have been passing a lot of secret notes recently," John B comments, JJ shrugs placing the pen down "It's sweet,"

"What d'ya mean by that?" JJ questions, John raises his eyebrows giving JJ a knowing look before having a realisation.

"You still haven't told her you're head over heels in love with her?"

"No," JJ admits, he was way past his days of fighting back when his friends accused him of being in love with her. "I don't know how to. You know me, I never say things right and I just- I really don't want to fuck this up. Only got one shot at it,"

"So write it," John B shrugs like it's obvious

"I can't,"

"You can,"

"What if she doesn't feel the same?"

"JJ, you're the most annoying person I know and she puts up with you all the time and has done since you were 2 . She feels the same,"

**

She's only wearing a bikini and a tshirt that belongs to JJ when she exits her house on Saturday morning. Her plans to meet at the Chateau go surfing with Kie already made, she grabs her board and at first she doesn't even notice it, attached to the cool box full of water and fruit she'd loaded up the night before is a note.

Ice

Art Magic

Igloo Note

London Orange Venus Elephant

Wine Ill Tiger Hungry

Yam One Under

It takes less than a minute for her to decipher the note, abandoning her surf board and the cooler in favour of sprinting to the Cheateau.

JJ is seemingly waiting for her when she arrives, he's pacing in front of the house, going still the second he sees her.

"Are you kidding?" She questions, he's stares, eyes wide not quite able to process why she looks so hopeful. "Because JJ, if this is some fucked up joke I will literally never speak to you again,"

"It's not a joke," He assures

"It's not?" She questions, it's het turn to still, having expected to arrive for him to laugh and ruffle her hair like he was her brother.

"No. I'm in love with you. I've been in love with you since we were 12 and you stole my cap and started wearing it everyday,"

"We were 14 and you snuck into my room because my parents were fighting and you read harry potter to me cause you knew my parents used to," She states

He nods, now it was all out there in the open neither of them quite knew what to do.

"For fucks sake kiss already!" Pope shouts, they turn seeing all the pogues watching them from the porch.

JJ looks at her, an unspoken question in his eyes. "Just promise me if this all goes tits up we will be friends, cause I can't loose you maybank,"

He holds his pinky out, smiling as she loops her with his and squeezes slightly. He pulls her into his chest with their pinkies. Lips crashing onto hers, spare holding her closer to him by the small of her back. Her empty hand moving to play with the blonde curls she's wanted to run her fingers through a thousand times. Their pinkies stay linked by their side, his thumb stroking at her hands lightly.

Yeah, she'd be keeping the note he left in there little love language.

[pascalpanic]

“You can call me whenever you want… Even if you don’t have a reason to.” with Javi 😩 OR marcus moreno bc I think it fits him too

Personal Number (Javier Peña x f!Reader)

Summary: You’re lonely working as the American ambassador’s secretary. You miss the days of being down with the agents as a receptionist. At least you get to talk with Javier Peña on the phone somewhat often.

W/C: 1.5k

Warnings: language, brief mentions of sexual content. this is pretty tame.

A/N: I LOVE JAVIER. can you tell?? thank you for this idea Thea!!! I love it so much and I hope you like it too. Also, can you tell I like writing phone calls? I just think it’s so fun and a medium that isn’t covered super often.

it’s definitely not because I like not having to write about body language or action.

Javier Peña was a flirt. You knew that from the start, from the stories you’d heard from the other women around the embassy. He was cute, you admitted. Tight shirts and equally slim-fitting jeans, dark hair, lean and strong. He walked with power in his stance.

You liked him. He was a nice man, respectful. He flirted with everyone, but he never went too far. Sure, he’d slept with a solid chunk of the women who worked here, but he was supposedly a wonderful lover. His methods were unorthodox in the field, but he got what he needed. He was incredibly clever, setting up traps and getting information by any means necessary. You talked occasionally, when he’d stop by because you had a message for him at the receptionist desk. He was good for conversation. He liked the cinnamon candies you kept on your desk.

The other women talked with you more than he did. You and the other women chatted, ate lunch together. The rare female presence was much appreciated in such a testosterone-laden environment. You all got along well. Even compared stories of sleeping with certain agents, how their skills at finding the clit ranked, how snuggly they were after, how receptive they were to certain acts. It was fun.

Javier was a busy man. The phone on his desk rarely rang. If someone needed someone around the embassy, they went and talked to them in person. It was an excuse to get away from your desk, people figured. You rarely used the phone too, even as a receptionist. You’d answer calls when they came, but they were usually directed other places, with specific extensions. People here were more direct.

That was before you’d been appointed as the ambassador’s secretary. It was an honor. It meant you were good at your job. You’d taken it, bragging to the other girls over lunch. Everyone was excited for you.

The job, you found out, was dry. It consists most days of making phone calls. Stechner, Ambassador wants you. Ambassador? Stechner’s here. Yep. I’ll let him in. Hi, we’ll take three orders of arepas- sorry, yes sir? Scratch that, he wants four. And can you throw in a coffee- one second, yes sir? Got it- with four creams and two sugars.

You doodle on a notepad many days. You read newspapers or reports. You proofread memos for the ambassador before he sends them off to someone important. It’s draining and dry and you have to admit you hate it.

“Peña,” a voice answers the phone.

“Hi Javier. Are you busy?” You ask.

He smiles a little as he hears your voice, leaning back in his chair and crossing his legs. “When am I ever around here?” He asks, and you chuckle.

“I know the feeling.”

The two of you had talked a few times before. He was nice enough, if curt. Usually, he was busy. People only came to you when they needed something as a receptionist, and now even more so as a private secretary.

“How’s the promotion treating you?” He asks. He’d heard word as he talked with others. Noticed your spot was empty for a day or two before being replaced by another woman. He missed the little candies you kept on your desk. You always kept cinnamon disks stocked in a separate jar from the seasonal candies for him.

“It’s… good,” you nod, drawing a little fish on your notepad. “Kind of feels like a demotion sometimes. It’s boring up here. And lonely. I miss being around to talk with people.”

“We miss you,” he admits with a smile. “You still keep those cinnamon candies on your desk up there?”

You shake your head, holding the phone between your ear and your shoulder. “No. Ambassador doesn’t like them, so I switched over. I did get some new fun caramel flavored stuff though.”

“Damn,” he chuckles.

“Would it make you come up here if I had them?”

“I may have to visit the ambassador more often if you did,” he teases, and you chuckle softly. “Poor little social butterfly, cooped up on the highest floor, away from humanity.”

“I do feel like Rapunzel some days,” you sigh, still smiling. “Oh shit, I’m sorry. I was supposed to ask if you were busy for the ambassador, not for myself. He wants to see you if you have a minute.”

“Yeah, I’ve got time. Right now?”

“Right now.”

You can hear shuffling on the other end. “Let me put my signature on one more paper and I’ll be up.” He hangs up and you sigh. There was the most interaction you’ll get for the day.

-

It seems that the closer the men get to Escobar, the more the ambassador needs to see Murphy and Peña. You don’t mind. The two men are funny, and the way they interact makes you smile.

Peña talks to you more than Murphy. Steve is more likely to go outside to smoke, while Javier smokes at his desk. That means you dial him more often simply because there’s a higher probability he’s at his desk. Not because you enjoy talking with him more.

The two men had picked up on calling you Rapunzel. Your energy and excitement was draining day by day, and they compared your new position outside of the ambassador’s office, high on the top floor of the embassy, to Rapunzel’s tower.

You playfully called them Javi and Stephen in return to annoy both of them. It didn’t work on Javier. It turned out he liked that, and you could tell by the way his voice softened. So you kept that.

“Peña.”

“Guess who?” you ask dryly, tapping your pen against your notepad.

The man chuckles. “You must be having an exciting day up there. I can hear it in your voice.”

“Ha.” The word is humorless and flat. “Ambassador wants to see you two.”

Javier groans. “Kind of busy.”

“Well, I’ll tell him that,” you nod and write down on a legal pad- separate from your doodling pad- Peña busy. 11:30. “How are things going down there today?”

“Annoying. Steve is a pain in my ass- hey, shut the fuck up,” you can hear him say even as he removes the receiver away from his phone. You giggle at that, smiling as he speaks again. “Sorry. Can you guess who that was?”

“What was he saying this time?” You ask, twirling the cord to the phone around your finger.

“Nothing,” he insists, but you can hear Murphy shouting. Some message he’s trying to get to you.

“Well, alright. Call up when you’re less busy,” you ask him and hang up.

You really want to know what Murphy was going on about. You dial his desk and he picks up. “S’this Rapunzel?” A southern accent twangs.

“Of course,” you chuckle. “What were you shouting into Javi’s phone?”

“Oh, nothing. Oh, hey, wait,” he says, pulling the phone down and pressing it to his chest. You can hear the muffled voices of the two men, but not what they’re saying. He puts it back to his ear quickly after. “Anyway, it’s nothing. We’ll call you back when we’ve got a minute to come up.”

Odd, you think, before going back to your work on your desk.

-

The phone rings again an hour later. “Ambassador’s office,” you say with a gentle lilt to your voice.

“Hey, Rapunzel,” a kind but rough voice speaks through the phone. Javi.

“Hey,” you chuckle a little. “You guys ready to come up?”

“Uh, no, not yet. But I do want you to write something down for me.”

“Anything,” you nod, priming your pen above the piece of paper.

Javier rattles off ten numbers, and you diligently write them down on the paper. You repeat it back and he affirms that it’s correct. “Got it. What is it?”

“It’s my personal phone number.”

“Javi, the ambassador already has your phone number.”

“No, I know. It’s for you.”

Oh. Your heart flutters excitedly in your chest, causing you to let out a soft giggle.

“I like talking with you. Our phone calls are the highlight of my day. You can call me whenever you want… even if you don’t have a reason to. I just… like hearing your voice. I like you.”

You clutch the paper, grinning ear to ear. “Well, I like you too, Javi. I’ll be using this,” you assure him, looking down at it and beaming. “Now, you said you’re busy. Get back to work.”

“Yes ma’am. See you in a bit.”

Click. Dial tone. Your heart fills with sparks and little fireworks, sending you into a loud laugh of excitement.

The thick oak doors swing open. The ambassador looks at you with concern. “Everything alright out here?” He asks you.

You nod, biting your lip and looking down to hide your grin. “Yeah, yeah. Great, sir. Peña and Murphy aren’t ready yet. They’ll be up later.”

The man gives you a nod and closes the door behind him.

The grin returns. You trace the freshly-dried ink, the nine numbers that will connect you directly to Javier at any time you want. You pull your contact book from your purse, sitting beneath your desk, flipping to a clean page.

Javier Peña, you write.

xxx-xxx-xxxx

personal number

You go back and draw a small heart next to his name.

[lambourngb]

a skeleton of something more [2/6]

previously here. malex wip fic. a short serial leading up the premiere.

spoilers for the trailer and promo, will be instantly AU. If I’m going to the trouble of writing a malex fix-it for the season 3 opener, why not fix 2x13 too?

**** THEN **** 

After Alex closed Tripp’s journal, he met Michael’s gaze across the table at the Crashdown. 

His golden-brown eyes were heavy with pain, the reminder of how his mother’s story had ended was still fresh between them despite the span of months since the fiery end of Caulfield. What had resulted in being the fiery end of them, even though Alex hadn’t known it at the time. The look of sleeplessness in Michael’s face reminded Alex, that outside of this small piece of Nora, he had the weight of Maria still in the hospital recovering from the pathogen Flint had released. The press of the Deep Sky ring in his pocket warred with the hesitation to place one more burden on Michael, would the abacus of their fragile friendship balance out?

He flashed to that last argument in Michael’s bunker, a disaster of his own making, thinking he could believe in his father, but thankfully harm was averted at Crashcon. That recent memory was motive enough for Alex to decide. Whatever happened next, he needed Michael on the same page with him.

As Isobel moved to leave the table, explaining to Michael that she needed to check on Max, Alex held Michael’s gaze deliberately. Then he folded his fingers down, until the last three fanned out in a downward W. 

“After what happened with Maria, maybe you should come with me, Michael. You can help me shake some sense into Max,” Alex heard, tuning back into Isobel’s voice. Her eyes moved back and forth between them, a crease of suspicion wrinkling her upturned nose, as she stopped on him. “It’ll be a good distraction.”

Without looking at Isobel, Michael’s eyes remained trained on Alex’s hand. “No, thanks, I’m good here. I’ve had my fill of stubborn ass people who don’t want to listen to sensible advice from me, so I’ll catch up with you later, Isobel.” 

She made a dismissive huff but did not argue, leaving with the barest semblance of a polite goodbye to Alex, but that was typical Isobel Evans. Michael waited until his sister was on the other side of the door, before speaking quietly, his gaze finally moving up from Alex’s hands to his face. “I haven’t seen you flash that sign to me in years.” 

“Glad to know you haven’t forgotten it.”

“You, making the ‘wait for me, I want you now’ signal? Nah, that’s been burned into my brain over the years.” Michael said it with a faint trace of bitterness. “I guess news travels fast, Maria only dumped my ass this morning.”

Alex winced and looked down, swallowing the surprise and spark of hope that welled in his throat at that disclosure. It was better to concentrate on the unique talent he had of stepping on landmines around Michael, than wonder about what had happened with Maria. It looked like he was still good at causing harm without intention, judging by the stung bite in Michael’s voice. “Fuck, I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I wouldn’t have-”

“No, I’m sorry,” Michael cut off his apology firmly with a wave of his hand, calling a time-out. Alex waited, his teeth pressed into his lower lip as Michael rubbed his eyes with a weary half-smile. “I’m being an asshole right now, and that’s not fair to take it out on you. It’s been a shitty day already, and — anyway, … you definitely know how to get my attention, Alex.” He tilted his head, self-deprecation on his face, “for better or worse, you’ve always been good at that.” 

It had been the sign they had developed whenever their paths had crossed over the years while Alex had been on leave in Roswell, but it had started that summer after high school. After Michael’s hand had healed poorly from Jesse, the last three fingers had been left frozen in a claw, it had been a shared fuck-you to his dad to use it to form their own secret communication. A three-fingered W, turned upward meant it wasn’t a good time, and he would find Michael later; turned downward, well, that meant it was safe to approach him, and it had often ended in a hurried blowjob in his car. Perhaps he should have used more care in using it now, but Michael wasn’t the only one running on the fumes of insomnia and stress. “Sorry, I needed to talk to you, and I wanted to make sure you didn’t leave with Isobel-”

“It’s fine, really. It’s not a bad memory either, remembering that we had our little secret language.” Michael wiggled his fingers in reassurance, his left hand still wrapped with a bandanna. “I can make that signal a hell of a lot easier now, too. But anyway, what did you need?”

There was still a voice inside Alex’s head that said ‘you’, no matter how long it had been. He shoved that down deep, along with his curiosity about Maria, and concentrated on his purpose. “Your advice on something, and then if it’s not too much to ask, your help.”

“Anything.” 

Alex blinked, nonplussed by the easy acceptance. 

Michael gestured encouragingly, “seriously, anything, just tell me what’s going on because the way you’re hemming and hawing, it is freaking me out.” Suddenly, all expression washed out of Michael’s face as a horrible thought occurred to him. “Did you get deployed or something?”

“Not exactly, not how you’re thinking,” he winced at the earned glare from Michael as he continued to stall while the words still tripped and fumbled around his mouth, heedless to the mounting frustration between them both. He sighed, and regrouped. Pushing the closed journal aside, Alex dug into his pocket and laid the signet ring on the table before Michael. “Let me start at the beginning, I found this in my dad’s things.” 

“Jesse never seemed like a jewelry kind of guy to me.” Michael picked up the ring, examining it closely with a sarcastic smirk. “Other than parading around town with that wedding ring, when everyone knows your mom left him back during the Bush years, Dubya that is.”

“My father is all, was all, about appearances.” Alex placed the photo of the group on the table, sliding it over to him. “That ring marked his membership in this paramilitary group called Deep Sky. Every man in that photo worked at Caulfield, at one time or another.” He tapped his finger over the face of his father, then moved it to the right. “That’s my dad, and that is Ricky Long.”

Michael frowned, pulling the picture closer to squint at the faces. “Wyatt’s dad?”

“No, Forrest’s.”

“Nazi guy? Seriously?” He rubbed at his chin, the stubble longer than usual painting his jawline. Alex dragged his eyes away with effort as Michael considered that information. There was a reluctant understanding in his eyes, having recalled that Forrest Long wasn’t just ‘Nazi Guy’ to Alex, but someone who had expressed interest in Alex. Personal interest. “I guess that’s something you guys have in common then, dirtbag dads.” 

He didn’t look thrilled to admit that to Alex, but it was a mark of how far they had both come as friends that Michael had said it anyway regardless. It was kind of him. It was the same type of empathy Alex had extended toward Michael, when he had expressed interest in Maria. Cut open, bleeding under his skin from all the ways he had squandered his own chances, he had said something similar to Michael once upon a time. That was what love was all about. Then he had kept saying it, until he believed it most days because wanting Michael to be happy was the easier ask.

It was a gracious sentiment that was entirely wasted by Michael when it came to Forrest Long. 

“It would be, uh, something to bond over, if I hadn’t noticed that Forrest wears the same ring now.” 

Michael’s eyes sharpened. “Family heirloom or do you think he worked at Caulfield?”

“I don’t know, but he is an ex-Army vet.” Alex tapped the photo of the members gathered together, “That was part of what I’ve been looking into, identifying everyone who worked at Caulfield right until the end. As for Deep Sky, I don’t know if it’s military service, Caulfield, or a family legacy that ties every member together, I just know that Dad kept in touch with those who were involved at the prison.” 

“Makes sense, Jesse was able to get a hold of the atomizer and pathogen that Charlie developed from somewhere. For all of his strutting around at Crashcon with a uniform on, that didn’t look like it was an official use of government property.” 

“Right, it definitely wasn’t, and before you tell me to leave it alone-” Alex began, remembering Michael’s response to the investigation into 1947. He had considered Alex’s actions back then to be an act of futility, something that could only hurt by being revisited. The past being the past, unable to be altered. 

This time Michael cut him off, “No, I was wrong about that. I, um, I finally realized that just because I don’t see you connected to that place or the rest of your family, doesn’t mean you don’t. And while I wish that you didn’t, Alex, if digging into this gives you some sort of peace over it, then do it.”

Alex looked down, feeling the weight of relief that Michael understood. After his father’s body had been removed, after the questions and lies had been spun, he had spent the entire night sleepless over having been made into an effective weapon to force Michael’s compliance. Helena had known where all the weak spots were thanks to Flint, and had armed herself with a depowering agent. Once Flint was recovered, there was nothing stopping him from employing a similar tactic in the future.

“If anyone’s going to destroy me, it might as well be you.” Michael had once declared with a bold carelessness that had infuriated and terrified Alex at the time, but that was nothing compared to now having a lived experience to back it up. His mind had easily used the memory of Maria’s collapse after the faintest exposure at the Crashcon and had exchanged her with Michael, being torn apart molecule by molecule, by an invisible threat.

Give him an enemy that he could see any day, especially one that bled. 

“I’ve been fighting so long, I don’t know what peace looks like anymore.” Alex held out his hand for the ring, and Michael gently laid it in his palm, brushing his fingertips over Alex’s skin. A lifetime of controlling himself kept the reaction off his face as he rubbed his thumb over the raised emblem of Deep Sky. “But I have learned recently that when something seems too good to be true, it is.” 

Neither of them mentioned Jesse and his performance from the last few months, but Michael frowned again, “Wait a second, you think Forrest targeted you on purpose?” 

“A member of a secret paramilitary organization just happens to ask me out after I was involved in the destruction of Caulfield? You really think that’s a coincidence?” Alex raised his eyebrow skeptically at Michael, before looking out the window to watch the pedestrians on the street. 

“I think you’re the hottest guy in Roswell, so I’m not surprised he asked you out.” Michael flushed a little when Alex turned back to stare at him in surprise over the flattering comment. “Seriously, you’re a catch, but I will agree, it’s not a good look that he’s got that ring. But maybe it’s crap he wears because of his dad, and he’s got no idea he’s parading around?”

“You’re being awfully generous.”

“Isn’t that what you want? Because last time I checked, you were the one telling me that I should have faith in people, even if they give me no reason to.” Michael flattened his hands on the table, drawing Alex’s attention to the bandanna on his hand again. That damn fight kept echoing between them to Alex’s dismay, but Michael didn’t let him linger over it, “While I stand by what I said about Jesse, ‘cause he messes us both up, all I know about Forrest Long is that he is way too interested in Nazi history and he has good taste in guys.” Michael wetted his lips, nervously to tack on, “I also know that I trust you, and your instincts, so if you say there’s something not right about him, then I believe you.” 

“There’s something not right about him,” Alex repeated seriously.

“Then I believe you, so what do you need me to do?”

“He wants to get close to me for some reason, probably related to what I know about aliens, so I’m going to let him. And I need you to back me up in case something goes wrong, and maybe use that lock pick you have in your brain?” Alex waited until Michael nodded in agreement, feeling the swell of gratitude at his support. Anyone else would probably think he was being paranoid, or that this was a delayed reaction to his father trying to kill them, but Michael, for all of his previous counter-arguments, had never truly believed in the good of humanity. Maybe in a few days, Alex would feel guilty in relying on that. Maybe in a few days, his suspicions about Forrest would be eliminated.

“He’s involved in running the open mike night at the Wild Pony with Maria, so I thought maybe I could perform a song or something? He drives a Prius, and while he’s listening to me sing, you could slip out mid-song and insert this into the code reader of his car.” 

On the table was a small device that mimicked a thumb drive, small and black. It was the type of technology that Alex had used in the Air Force, tracking terrorists abroad. It had taken a fair amount of searching to purchase the equivalent stateside to have on hand. Michael picked it up curiously, turning over his hands.

“It’s designed to download the GPS history of his car,” Alex explained, before rubbing the back of his head in thought. “That’s how I uncovered what my dad was up to, first by tracking his movements. If I let Forrest take me home, I can gain access to his laptop and phone.”

Michael furrowed his brow in concern, “You’re really willing to go that far? And what if he is involved in something shady, what then?”

“My father and brother both used me to get to you, there’s really nothing I wouldn’t do to keep that from happening again and if it means playing along with this guy, letting him lead me to the members of Deep Sky? Then I will.” If anything, his words only deepened the concern on Michael’s face, but Alex had been committed for a long time. Since the red level threat. Since the short ride to the recruitment office. Maybe as far back as his guitar going missing in the music room.

“I’ve slept with guys for worse reasons.”

CONTINUED HERE

[dirtykpopsnaps]

You’re Mine — Cha Eunwoo smut

Warnings: This fic contains 18+ material. Anyone under 18 seen interacting with this fic will be blocked!!

Contains: Jealous!Eunwoo. Hard dom!Eunwoo. Unprotected fucking (Eunwoo pulls out, but still...wrap it up)

Requested: yes

Words: 1, 652

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I lean back against the wall of the studio, my laptop sitting in front of me. I’m currently working through a little bit of my schoolwork while my boyfriend, Eunwoo, and his group members have a photo shoot. Thankfully, I did most of my work during the week, so most of my work today is simple things. I bite my lip, looking down at the last few questions on the quiz. On the side of the page, a little timer ticks down until my quiz will be forcibly turned in. I clear my thoughts and try to answer the last few questions correctly.

When I finish the last question, I sigh in relief and click the ‘submit’ button. My quiz turns in and I calmly sign out of Canvas, shutting the top of my computer. I grab my bag off the wall and place my computer carefully inside, setting it back down. Calmly, I look up at the photo shoot and smile to myself. At the moment, the photographer is trying to take a group shot. All six of the members are gathered in front of the plain background, standing close and goofing off. It’s clear that the photographer wanted something a little more professional, but he can’t seem to keep their attention. Finally, he starts snapping pictures of the members laughing with each other.

I let my eyes flit over each other members as the camera flashes over and over. My eyes fall upon Eunwoo and I smile to myself as my heart flutters. I’ve been with him for about a year now and it’s been amazing. Eunwoo is the best boyfriend a girl could ever ask for. He’s sweet and charming, funny and kind, and very gentlemanly. The only problem is that girl s are *constantly* throwing themselves at him. I mean, I can’t blame them, but can’t they tell that he’s taken? The worst occurrence was when we were having dinner with the rest of Astro, and our waitress kept blatantly flirting with him. Of course, Eunwoo was completely oblivious to her flirting, but I almost tore her head off.

Shaking my head, I allow the thoughts to clear and look back at the group again. To be honest, they all look very hot. The outfits that the stylists dressed them in are such a different style than what they usually wear, but they look amazing. Most of the outfits are made up of mostly black and white pieces, but there’re splashes of red thrown in. It doesn’t help that the photographer has finally gotten them to focus and now he’s taking sexy photos of the group together. I bite my lip lightly, looking at the group of them and trying not to freak out internally.

Suddenly, someone starts speaking up and I clear my thoughts again. I realize that the person who spoke was the photographer. I figure that he’s probably started the solo portion of the shoot and I just lean back against the wall again. Eunwoo is the only member who stays around the camera, so I figure they’re doing his solo portion. The other members wander off, just waiting for their solo portion. A few of the members come and sit down with me. I talk happily with Sanha and MJ, not really having a specific topic.

Other than Eunwoo, I’ve always found Sanha and MJ have been the easiest to talk to. Not even really thinking about it, I sit close to Sanha and joke around with them. At one point, Sanha complains that he’s a little sleepy, so I allow him to lay his head in my lap and I play with his hair while MJ and I keep talking. When Eunwoo’s solo portion ends, he comes over and sits down next to me. He looks down at Sanha’s head in my lap, frowning softly. “What’s wrong?” I ask, stopping my motions with Sanha’s hair.

“Does he have to sleep in your lap?” Eunwoo asks, the frown still on his face.

Knitting my eyebrows together, I look up at him. “‘Woo, is everything okay?” I ask in concern. He finally looks away from Sanha and up at me again.

“I just...don’t like that you’re flirting,” he shrugs. My jaw drops and I look over at MJ. MJ immediately throws his hands up in defense and walks off to join the other members.

“Eunwoo, I’m not flirting,” I insist, “he just got tired, so I offered.”

“Well, I don’t like it,” he huffs.

In my lap, Sanha’s eyes open slowly. He looks up at Eunwoo, yawning a little bit. When he sees the look on Eunwoo’s face, he immediately sits up. “Sorry,” he mumbles, heading over to the couch to sleep again. Once Sanha’s off my lap, Eunwoo’s mood improves a little bit. However, he gets upset again when Moonbin and Rocky start goofing off with me. It’s normal behavior for the two of them, but Eunwoo seems to take it as ‘flirting’ again.

“Can you give us a moment?” I ask. Rocky and Moonbin nod their heads, getting up and walking off again.

Once they’re further away, I take Eunwoo’s hand and start to lead him out of the photo studio. “Where’re we going?” He asks.

“Somewhere where we can talk a little easier,” I say, leading him into an empty room not too far away. We both slip inside and I turn to him, trying to think what to say. “Eunwoo...what’s up? You keep getting jealous today,” I say. He rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

“Sorry I don’t like my members flirting with my girlfriend,” he says defensively.

“Eunwoo, they’re not flirting. They’re just being friendly,” I say.

“Well, I don’t like it. You’re *mine*,” he reminds me.

“I understand how you’re feeling. I feel that everyone time someone flirts with you, but ‘Woo, you can’t just get upset every time your members are friendly with me,” I say, leaning up to brush some hair behind his ear.

Without even hesitating, Eunwoo flips me around and presses me against the wall. “You’re *mine*. I don’t care if they’re friendly. But, as soon as they start flirting, they need to know that you’re *mine*,” he says, his voice dropping low. I stare at him with wide eyes, my heart pounding in my chest. Eunwoo smirks down at me, then leans down and captures my lips. I sigh into the kiss, leaning up to him and wrapping my arms around his neck. He hums, wrapping my arms around my waist and holding me close to him. The kiss is passionate and filled with emotion.

As soon as he pulls apart, Eunwoo begins pressing kisses down my neck. He presses them across my collarbone, then looks up at my, growling. “Get. Your clothes. Off,” he growls. Immediately, I step off the wall and start stripping all my clothes off. Eunwoo chuckles darkly, smirking at me. “Good girl.” He slowly starts dropping his clothes, too, and pulls me back to his chest once we’re both naked. He holds me close, letting his long cock rub against my cunt. I swallow thickly, a soft moan ripping up my throat. He smirks again, pulling his hips back and just dragging his cock through my folds.

“‘W-Woo, don’t tease,” I whine, holding onto his arms.

As soon as the words leave my lips, Eunwoo flips me around and presses me over one of the empty tables littering the room. “*Don’t* tell me what to do,” he growls in my ear. I gasp, feeling myself become even wetter just at his words. He bends me forward and, although I can’t see him, I can feel him lining himself at my hole. “Hold on, baby,” he tells me. I lean across the table, holding the edge tightly and I bite my lip. Moments later, he presses his cock into me and I gasp lightly. The stretch that I’m so used to feels amazing.

For a few moments, Eunwoo always me to adjust to his size. Finally, he pulls his hips back and starts thrusting quickly. I moan softly, flexing my grip at the edge of the table. Eunwoo chuckles darkly, snapping his hips into me quickly and I gasp, my jaw falling open. “You’re *mine*. No one else can make you feel this good,” he whispers to me.

“No, no one. Just you,” I moan, leaning my head back against his chest. He chuckles again, wrapping an arm around my waist to keep me close to his chest. Eunwoo begins snapping his hips quicker into me, sucking lightly on my neck.

I can slowly feel myself getting worked up, racing towards my high. “Eunwoo...Eunwoo...I-I’m gonna come!” I moan, leaning against the table and squeezing my eyes shut. Eunwoo snaps his hips directly into my g-spot and I whine loudly.

“Come for me, babygirl,” he smirks. I let myself fall over the edge, moaning loudly. Eunwoo thrusts a few more times, then pulls out and I feel his cum splatter over my back. I pant softly, leaning my cheek against the cool table. Eunwoo takes a few moments to catch his breath, then he walks off.

“‘Woo?” I pout, looking over my shoulder. He chuckles lightly.

“Just over here, baby. Getting a tissue,” he tells me. I hum lightly, letting myself rest until he comes back.

When he comes back, Eunwoo wipes the cum off my back and helps clean me up. Once we’re both clean, we pull our clothes back on. Eunwoo checks to make sure that I’m ready before pushing the door back open and taking my hand in his. Calmly, he leads me back to the photo shoot studio. “You know...we’re gonna have to come up with an excuse as to why we were gone so long,” I point out. Eunwoo shrugs lightly, pressing a kiss to my hair.

“Leave that to me, baby.”

[coffee-imagines]

Wrong Houses Pt 2

part one

Pairing: Draco x weasley!reader

Warnings: none

A/N: I wasn’t sure what I was going to do for this but then I got an idea and got excited so here we go :) I’m glad a lot of you liked the first part. Also can we talk about how iconic Molly’s howler to Ron is in the movie?

Summary: After a letter home an unexpected surprise arrives during lunch

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You’d started crying the second your face hit your pillow, the feelings from the past five years hitting you all at once. You felt overwhelmed, your body shaking when your cries turned to sobs. There was no way you could go home now, not after what Ron had told you. You felt like a bother to your family, and inconvenience that they had to deal with because of your differences. The sound of footsteps made you hide your face deeper into the pillow and try to calm your shaking, thinking one of your dormmates had come back to get something.

“Y/N.” Draco’s voice filled your ears, his hand softly touching your back. You couldn’t bring yourself to speak, knowing you would only cry harder. “I’m here, it’s okay.” He assured you, helping you sit up before he pulled you in for a hug. You clung to him, crying into his neck while he whispered reassurances in your ear and rubbed your back. It had taken a while but you finally stopped shaking, your tears falling silently, hitting Draco’s neck and sliding down wetting the collar of his shirt.

“I don’t… I don’t want to...” You stuttered out, trying to find your words but Draco shushed you, playing with your hair to try and calm you down fully before you tried speaking again. You took a few deep breaths, closing your eyes trying to focus on Draco instead of everything else. “I don’t want to go home.” You whispered in his neck. “I don’t ever want to go back home.” You sniffed, hugging Draco tighter.

“You don’t have to. My parents actually like you. I’m sure if I write a letter home my mom will let you stay with us.” Draco explained and you nodded, pulling your head away from his neck. Draco’s heart clenched when he saw your tear stained face, the complexion of your skin almost matching your red hair, your nose even redder and your bottom lip still quivering. “You’re going to be okay.” Draco reassured you, leaning down to kiss the tears away. You closed your eyes, and a small smile made its way on your face when Draco softly kissed your eyelids.

“I’m going to write a letter to my parents. They should know I’m not going to come home.” You explained softly and Draco nodded in agreement. 

You took a deep breath, reaching over in all of your belongings to get a paper and a quill. It took a while before the quill touched the paper. You were trying to find the right words to say. Writing the letter didn’t make you happy, it hadn’t been like you really wanted to leave your family, but at this point you felt like it was the only way it would make them happy and stop worrying about how you turned out. There wasn’t a day that went by that you didn’t feel guilty about how everything had turned out, and you refused to spend the rest of your life being reminded of something that was out of your control.

Molly and Arthur Weasley,

I know I don’t normally write home, but I have something important to tell the both of you that just can’t wait. I have suspected that I have been a disappointment to this family since my first day here at Hogwarts, and according to Ron’s words my suspicions are correct. It hurts to think that I have ruined the legacy of my own family and not been sorted into what we perceive to be the correct house. Although I’ve also upset everyone with my relationship with the Malfoy’s son, that I won’t apologize for. I refuse to apologize for something that makes me happy, but I will apologize for the mistake that was made by me being sorted into Slytherin instead of Gryffindor like the rest of the family. 

I unfortunately cannot change the past, but I will take it upon myself to change the future and not continue to burden everyone in the family with my presence. I will hopefully be staying with the Malfoy family, but if not then I will find another way. I no longer feel like I am a part of this family, and although I haven’t for a while, being called a disappointment to my face is where I have to draw the line. It doesn’t bring me any pleasure writing this letter. It pains me that I will have to leave my family, because although I care about all of you greatly, I guess that doesn’t go both ways. Any of my things that Ginny can use she can have, but the rest I will give to the twins to sell in order to help them with their plans for the future. I’m sorry I couldn’t be the child you wanted and I’m sorry that things had to turn out the way they did. I will miss all of you greatly, but I understand if you don’t feel the same toward me.

Good wishes always, Y/N Weasley

Your hand shook while you wrote, the words coming out in shaky lines, some tears falling onto the page that made the ink smear. You sniffed and bit your lip to keep yourself from balling all over again, squeezing your eyes shut when Draco placed his hand on your back.

“Don’t touch me.” You whispered softly and shook your head. You were trying too hard to keep it together, but you knew if he tried comforting you you’d only break down again and let it all out. Draco’s hand moved away from you and you let out the breath you were holding. Clearing your throat and wiping your face you stood up, grabbing an envelope you folded the letter silently before slipping it in. You wrote everything you needed down on the front and you turned to Draco. “Come with me?” You asked, your eyes soft showing how much you’d actually been hurting, but your face almost looked as though you hadn’t been crying, the only thing giving you away was your puffy eyes.

Draco nodded and stood up, walking as close to you as you allowed him. All the way to the owlery you would move a bit away anytime Draco brushed against you, walking in silence. You had nothing else to say, wanting to forget about everything with your family, you even went as far as thinking about changing your hair a different color so you wouldn’t resemble any of your family members, but you knew you couldn’t. A small pit formed in your stomach when you watched the owl take off with your letter, but you took a breath and brushed off the feeling, finally grabbing Draco’s hand when you both walked back to the Slytherin common room.

That night Draco had sent an owl home to his mom about your situation, asking if you’d be able to stay and start living with them for the rest of your time at Hogwarts. The following days you’d avoided your siblings like the plague, especially Ron. You were lucky enough to only have one class with your brother, and you both sat on opposite ends of the room. You’d felt his eyes on you during class, but you never looked in his direction, wanting to put as much distance between you and your family that you possibly could. You wanted to get used to them not being in your life anymore, and not living with you anymore. This had been the only time you were happy to be a Slytherin, being in different houses making it easier to not see them. The only time you had to actually see your brother’s were at Quidditch games, and you were glad that those were the only times, knowing you wouldn’t have been able to handle anything more.

Everything had started taking its toll on you, every day you would be mentally exhausted, a heavy weight seeming to hold you down. Draco wasn’t the only one who had noticed this, your entire house could see it, and it only made the rival between the Gryffindor’s and Slytherin’s thicken. Slytherin’s had always stuck by their own through anything and you’d definitely proved how much you belonged in your house over the years, shocking even the people who had thought the hat had messed up your first year.

You were resting against Draco’s side, picking at the food on your plate. You’d lost most of your appetite, usually eating when Draco would be with you, but today had felt different. It had been hard throughout the past few days, and the second you’d gotten up in the morning you felt more exhausted than you ever had before. You smiled softly when Draco started playing with your hair and you finally decided to start eating when you felt your stomach grumble softly. You kept your head on Draco’s chest while you ate, wishing you’d been able to stay in the common room with him instead. Owls started flying overhead but you ignored them, not expecting any mail to come from home since it never did.

“Ronald Weasley!” Your mother’s voice filled the great hall making your head shoot up from your plate. You watched in amazement, your family owl flying over and sitting on you after dropping a letter in your hand. “How dare you speak to your sister that way! I am absolutely disgusted! I want an explanation sent home and an apology to your sister right this instant! If I hear anything from her about you again I’ll have you brought straight home!” Your mother yelled in your brother’s face and your face turned red in embarrassment. The howler turned to the rest of your sibling but you drowned it out, looking down and opening the letter that had been dropped in your hands.

Y/N,

Don’t you even think about leaving. Your father and I care about you dearly, and we do not agree with what your brother has said. We will have a discussion as a family when you all come home for the summer. Let me know if they give you any more trouble.

Love, Mom

You smiled down at the letter in your hand. Although short, it had everything you needed to hear in it. You were pulled out of your thoughts when you heard all the Slytherin’s around you laughing, pulling your attention to the Howler that had barely finished scolding all of your siblings. Ron had been walking across the hall almost in shame, almost every student laughing to themselves at the scene they had just witnessed. You watched anxiously, wondering if he was going to come over and make your mother’s words seem like nothing. The rest of the Slytherin’s watched with you, surely making Ron’s nerves way worse because of all the eyes that had been on him. You’d been surprised to even see the teachers watching the scene before them.

“Y/N listen.” Ron started, rubbing the back of his neck, his face already red. “I’m sorry for being a prat. I was upset and shouldn’t have taken it out on you.” He explained, your attention averting to the sea of red hair that had been making their way over. “We all don’t care that you’re in Slytherin. It’s just weird to us, and we need time to get use-” He continued but you cut him off.

“Five years isn’t enough?” You asked softly, biting the inside of your cheek. You felt overwhelmed, feeling too many things at once made your bottom lip threaten to quiver.

“We don’t mind it.” The twins explained and Ginny agreed next to them. You knew they hadn’t cared, but hearing it seemed to make you feel a bit better. You turned your attention to Ron, waiting for his explanation.

“We used to do everything together, then we came here and separated and I didn’t like it.” Ron explained, shocking you. “I know I should have talked to you about it instead of pushing you away all these years but I never knew how. I just wanted my sister back, but instead I pushed you away and hurt you instead and for that I am sorry. Really.” Ron apologized, making you nod slowly.

“Thank you.” You whispered, looking down at your lap trying to think. “I need time.” You explained looking back up to Ron.

“How much?” He asked hopefully, and you bit back a smile.

“I’d say about five years.” You tried saying seriously, but you and your other siblings ended up laughing at the look on Ron’s face. They turned to walk away and you nodded to Ron, knowing the both of you would most likely talk later that day.

“My mom said you can come stay with us whenever you need to if you still want.” Draco explained breaking the silence, holding a letter you hadn’t noticed before. 

“I don’t think I will just yet.” You smiled, watching your sibling walking back to the Gryffindor table turning and kissing Draco’s cheek softly.

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Tag list: Let me know if you’d like to be added

@mathletemadison @severuslovebot @izzytheninja @obsessedwithrandomthings​ @dogglefoggle @supermassiveblackhope @jealous-styles

[sandwichrin]

A Little into You (Junkyu x Reader) (Ch. 22)

Chapter 22 - He messed up.

Word count: 4.5k words

Genre: Fanfiction, PG13, Comedy, Romance.

A/N: Hello~ Things are about to get intense now, wops!

Chani’s face was so close to yours you could literally feel his breath blowing in your face.

This isn’t what you expected it to be though. Never in your mind would it occur to you that your close friend in this place would like you this way.

Chani continued staring at you, his fingers still holding onto your chin in a gentle manner, waiting for your response.

“Chani…” you said slowly, your eyes averting away from him. “I really had no idea…”

Chani smiles at you and lets go of you. He lowers his head and lets out a forced laugh.

“Ah, don’t worry about it. I just want you to know how I feel about you. Clearly you don’t feel the same way but yeah, it’s really fine,” his smile was tight, and you could tell that he was upset that your reaction wasn’t mutual to his.

You felt bad seeing him forcing his smile at you and so you let out a sigh.

“Chani, listen. It’s not that I don’t like you at all. I do like you. But maybe I don’t like you the way you like me…”

Chani ruffled his own hair, still trying his best to smile at you. “I get it. I mean, we’ve only known each other for couple of weeks too, so it makes sense for you to not have feelings for me,”

You nodded, showing him an apologetic smile.

“Ah! But it’s okay! I won’t give up! As long as you don’t have a boyfriend, I’ll continue doing my best to win your heart,” he suddenly said, his voice filled with a newfound motivation.

You laughed at his quick change of emotions. “Sure, sure. Just as long as you don’t become a homewrecker,” you joked.

Chani grinned at you. Your laugh somehow made him feel better even though he knew how painful it felt when you avoided looking at him for a brief second after he confessed. He’s decided that even if you can’t return his feelings now, just having you here, laughing and smiling beside him, is good enough—for now.

The both of you sat back down in your seats, ready to move on from the short drama you both had.

You pulled the stack of modules towards yourself and started flipping through the pages.

Wait a minute.

You turned your head to your friend beside you.

“Chani!”

“Whoa, what??” Chani responded, startled that you had suddenly mentioned his name.

“What the hell are you still doing here?? Shouldn’t you be back with your group downstairs??”

“Ahh. About that…” he paused. “I uh, switched groups. I’m now in your group! Isn’t that great?!” he said cheerfully.

Your eyebrows raised, not believing what he said. “I—what??” you shook your head. “How is that possible? I thought Bomin said that all groups are final and that no one can change their groups?”

“Hey, I have my ways, okay?”

Suddenly, your phone started ringing. You held up a finger to Chani, signalling him to keep quiet as you answered the phonecall.

Chani waited as you talked on the phone for a while.

Once you were done with the call, you placed your phone on the table and turned to your friend with a skeptical look on your face.

“Chani, did you really switch groups?”

“Yeah, I did. Why?”

“Uhuh, okay then, explain to me why did Kevin call me up and asked if I knew where you were because you had been missing from your meeting room for almost half a day,”

“Huh?? But I already told Kevin-hyung that I was switching groups!”

You raised an eyebrow. “How did you tell him?”

“Yesterday after lunch I marched into my group’s meeting room and told it straight to Kevin-hyung’s face that I won’t be joining his group anymore and that I’ll be joining yours!”

You blinked a few times. Well, it does sound like what Chani would do since he has quite the guts to behave that way.

“Huh…then what did Kevin say to you after you told him that?”

“I’m not sure,” Chani shrugged. “I immediately left after I said all those things to him. I feel like he did say something but I was already walking out of the room,” he continued.

Your jaw fell. “What?? Chani! You should’ve waited and listened to what he said first! And where did you go after that?? You didn’t even return to your meeting room after that??”

“No, I just went to hang with the iKon hyungs in their practice room,”

“Oh my god, Chani,” you groaned, facepalming at your friend’s behaviour.

*

It was after lunchtime that you had dragged Chani to go meet his original group leader; Kevin. And after a long discussion, Kevin agreed on letting Chani go under your supervision for the remainder of the week. I mean, it’s only for another 2 days? What could go wrong?

Ding! The both of you stepped out of the elevators, Chani being in front of you, whilst you try to keep up with his steps behind him.

“Slow down, Chani. I’m not done talking,” you huffed.

“Well I’m done, y/n.” he said, as he walked forward, not even turning to look at you.

“Chani! This is serious!”

Chani stopped walking. He turns around to face you, his height making you have to lift your head up slightly to talk to him.

“This is serious,” you repeat.

Chani lets out a loud sigh. “Look, y/n. I told you, it’s gonna be alright,”

You shook your head. “No Chani. Didn’t you see Kevin’s face earlier? He was reluctant to let you go! Clearly you need to stop acting like as if your dad owns this company and just listen to what your higher-ups tell you to do!”

“So what?!”

You were startled when Chani raised his voice at you.

“W-what?”

“I said, so what?? So what if I treat as if this company was owned by my dad? What can you do about it?!”

Your mouth hung open. You were too speechless to even argue with him back. You had a lot of answers but then again it took you by surprise how Chani was lashing out at you right now.

Chani realised how harsh he had been on you so he started rubbing the temples on his head, trying to calm himself down.

“Look, y/n. I didn’t mean to raise my voice at you. I just—” he paused. He lets out an exasperated sigh. “Why does it seem like you don’twant me to be your mentee? Or…do you not like the idea of me being around you all day in that cramped meeting room of yours, huh?”

“Oh my god, did you just insult my meeting room??”

“Oh god y/n, you’re not really flipping over that. Tell me, you just hate the idea of being stuck with me, right?!” Chani added, admitting his insecurity of you not wanting to be with him at all.

“I—what?? I never said that!” you argued back this time.

“Then what is it?? Why won’t you just let me off the hook?! Yes, Kevin-hyung didn’t want to let me switch groups, but I did it, didn’t I?? It happened! I just wanted to make you feel like you had someone to tutor! You said it yourself, you felt useless when you found out no staff signed up to be in your group,”

You pursed your lips tightly. What Chani said wasn’t a lie. You were this close to asking for a demotion from Mr Bae when you had lost motivation in your work earlier this week. You felt tears brimming up your eyes, you tried hard not to let it flow down your cheeks.

“Ehem,” both you and Chani heard the person clearing their throat.

Chani turned around to see who it was behind him, and it was none other than Jihoon and Junkyu.

You moved slightly to see who it was as well, and you hurriedly blinked back your tears when you saw who it was.

“Oh hey, hyung,” Chani greeted them.

“I’m sorry to interrupt you lovebirds’ fighting but uhh, could you maybe do it on your own floor?” Jihoon asked, giving a sarcastic smile.

“What?” You said, not understanding what he meant.

Jihoon pointed at the signage above your head, and both you and Chani looked at it.

“Oh? How did we end up on the 3rd floor??” You asked, baffled at how ridiculous it is for the both of you to end up on the wrong floor.

“Aish, I must’ve pressed the wrong button earlier,” Chani said.

“Whatever, let’s get back to our floor,” you said as you sighed.

You were about to leave the spot when Jihoon called out to you, “Y/n. You alright?”

“Huh?” you asked back.

“You look a bit…upset. You want to hang with us for a bit?” Jihoon asked.

“I…” you began to say. You stopped halfway when your eyes met Junkyu. He had his usual clueless yet cute expression, his eyes blinking a couple times, not understanding what was going right now.

“I guess I could use a breather…” you continued.

“Ah but y/n, we need to get back to work, don’t we? Maybe next time hyung?” Chani interrupts you. He immediately wraps his arm around your shoulder, earning sharp glares from both Junkyu and Jihoon.

Now, usually you would have gone with Chani’s flow and let him have his way but right now you were still upset with how he had been behaving today so instead of agreeing with him, you pushed his arm off of you and shot him a glare as well. “Enough, Chani. I’m leaving.” You faced both of your Treasure friends and forced a smile at them. “I’ll talk to you both next time then? I’m heading towards the offices upstairs to send in some reports,”

“Oh? You’re not heading back to the meeting room? I can accompa—”

“You head back to the meeting room and complete modules 1 and 2, Chani. I’ll see you later,” you interrupted him before he could finish his sentence.

With that, you turned your heel and left the three of them.

Chani was about to chase after you when Jihoon’s voice stopped him.

“Huh. I’ve never seen y/n that upset before. Already stirring up drama again, Chani?”

“Oh come on, hyung. What do you guys have against me??” Chani shot back.

“Nothing! I was just surprised to see y/n worked up like that,” Jihoon said in a calm manner.

“Yah, Chani. Quit it. I know how much you care about y/n, but try not to push her around too much, okay?” Junkyu suddenly spoke up.

“Please, hyung,” he scoffed. “You’re just jealous that y/n spends more time with me and not you,”

“Hey, what’s with the sudden attack? I was just advising you,” Junkyu said, frowning.

“Okay chill it you two,” Jihoon stepped in between them before they could walk up towards one another.

“Chani, just go back to your meeting room, okay? Y/n would be more upset if she comes back to see you not doing your work.”

Chani lets out a deep exhale and nods at Jihoon. “I’ll be going then.” He walked away, not saying goodbye to them.

“Wow, he’s gotten rude,” Junkyu said in an upset tone.

“Aigoo, he’s just upset, that’s all. I mean, they fought a little too loudly, don’t you think?” Jihoon chuckled.

“Why do you look so happy? Y/n looked like she was almost crying,”

Jihoon wrapped his arm around his best friend’s shoulder. “Aww, look at you being concerned with y/n! Why didn’t you say anything earlier while she was here though? I bet it would’ve made her feel better if you had said something,”

Junkyu pouted at this. “You know how I get around y/n when you guys are around me. I just couldn’t say anything,”

“Aigoo you’re too cute Junkyu-ah! No wonder y/n likes—” Jihoon immediately covered his own mouth and giggled. “Wops! I almost said too much, didn’t I?”

“What? Y/n likes what?”

“Nothing~ Just continue staring at that picture I sent you like you did when I entered your studio,” Jihoon said in a teasing tone as he unwrapped his arm from Junkyu’s shoulder.

“H-hey! I wasn’t staring at her picture! I told you I was busy reading an article!”

“Eyy, sure you were,” Jihoon smirked.

*

YG Building (3rd Floor / Evening)

It was close to the end of the day when Junkyu exited his studio to hurry towards their usual practice room.

It’s usually at this time, isn’t it? He thought to himself as he passed by Yedam’s studio room, not noticing that his friend had just exited his studio door as well.

Junkyu glanced over his phone to look at the time.

One more minute!

At this rate, Junkyu had sprinted towards the practice room, to the point that he couldn’t hear Yedam calling out his name behind him.

The moment he arrives in front of the practice room, he noticed a figure on the opposite side of the building, just a floor above.

“Ah, I was right. She’s always out of her room at this time,” he muttered to himself softly, a smile forming on his lips.

Junkyu collected his breath, not wanting to sound out of breath if he calls out to you.

Ah, but then. Wouldn’t it be too coincidental if he called out to you at this time? This was the exact time he noticed you were always outside, getting ready to leave work.

Just like the first time he saw you that time.

Junkyu gulped, hoping he wasn’t coming across as a stalker now that he’s always watching out for your presence. Not to mention the timing too now…

Junkyu shook his head, shaking off his lingering thoughts. He raised his head to look up at your figure that was nearby the railings—but not close enough for him to catch your attention.

What should he say? Should he just call out to your name? Text you first?

“Hyung!” a voice approached him.

Junkyu turned to look who it was. Ah, Yedam.

Yedam waved his hand at Junkyu as he made his way towards his hyung.

“Hyung, what are you doing here? We don’t have dance practice today, do we?”

“Ah, no. We don’t…”

“Right? Aigoo, I was flustered earlier when I saw you running past me, hyung!” Yedam chuckled. “So, what brings you here, hyung?”

Junkyu wanted to answer his friend but at the same time he was distracted with wanting to call out to you before you leave.

Yedam noticed Junkyu’s eyes looking over to the other side for a brief second, which makes him look at the other side as well.

Yedam was about to worry over why his hyung was staring at an empty hallway on the other side of the building when his eyes glanced over a moving figure on the floor above.

“Oh? Isn’t that y/n?” Yedam pointed out.

Junkyu chuckled nervously. “Ahuh, yeah.”

“What a coincidence! I haven’t seen her for a while now too,” Yedam said. “Should I call out to her?” Yedam asked further.

Junkyu shrugged at the younger member beside him, his eyes still watching over how you were busy checking your bag thoroughly.

Yedam raised his hands to his mouth, wanting to call out to you—when suddenly an arm wrapped itself around your shoulder.

Yedam stopped his action, a startled expression forming on his face.

Junkyu on the other hand, had a frown on his face, since he knew who that arm belongs to.

A second later, Chani’s figure showed up near the railings. He looked like he was trying his best to make you laugh but clearly you weren’t in the mood for it.

Junkyu lets out a sigh. Again, Chani was there with you. How is that possible, though?? How did it become ‘Chani is everywhere’?? Shouldn’t it be ‘Treasure is everywhere’?? Wasn’t that the right slogan??

“Hyung…are Chani and y/n dating…?” Yedam asked, his voice slow.

Junkyu swiftly turned to look at Yedam. “What?”

*

Treasure’s Dorm #1 (Weekend)

Aaaandd we’re time skipping towards the weekend now. Nothing exciting happened throughout the remaining of the week too, to be honest. You were busy mentoring Chani, the both of you spending most of the days at work together that week, which made Chani happy, and you, well, you were unaffected in any way.

You were just glad you finally got some real work to do, as usual. And being with Chani no longer got on your nerves since he listened well and behaved his best throughout the week.

You didn’t bump into or talk to any of your Treasure friends though, since you had been caught up doing work and busy tutoring your ever-needy friend, Chani.

As for Junkyu, he had made it a point not to look out for your presence after countless of times catching Chani clinging on to you everywhere you go at any time. It was starting to annoy him too much. His only solace whenever he misses you was to stare at your photo that Jihoon sent the other day.

Now, back to where we are today—

The boys have all gathered at Dorm 1 for a group lunch to celebrate Asahi’s success in writing half of their songs for their soon-to-be released album in the few months to come.

“Yeahhh Asahi-hyung!! When they said they’ll be picking 4 of your songs for our next album, Haruto almost cried, did you know that?” Yedam jeered.

Asahi smiled and nudged Haruto who was sitting beside him on the sofa.

“That’s not true! Something got into my eye at that time,” Haruto responded, trying to cover up what Yedam said.

“Yedamie~ Could you help out in the kitchen for a bit?” Jihoon’s voice called out from the kitchen.

“Sure! Be right there!” Yedam called out to his hyung.

*

Treasure’s Dorm #1 (Kitchen)

“Okay but who’s idea was it to let the kids help out in the kitchen?” Junkyu asked as he watched Jeongwoo and Jaehyuk laughing and tossing flour at one another.

“Aigoo Junkyu-aa, you’re not much of help either,” Jihoon said in return.

“Heyyy that’s not fair! I’m watching over these kids—that’s a lot of help,” he said as he points at both of the younger members who looked like they had just run through a rain of flour.

Jihoon laughed as he saw Jaehyuk’s and Jeongwoo’s face covered in patches of flour.

“Okay kids~ Let’s get cleaned up~” Yoshi said as he approached them. He pulled both of them along with him to exit the kitchen, leaving traces of white powder on the floor as they passed by those who were in the kitchen as well.

“Okay! Role-check!” Jihoon said as he stood in the middle of the less crowded kitchen.

Doyoung, Mashiho, Yedam and Junkyu stood up straight upon hearing Jihoon’s voice.

“Doyoung, you work on the kimchi jjigae with Mashi. Yedam, you help me chop up these veggies for the stir fry. And junkyu…” Jihoon’s voice trailed off, thinking of what to let Junkyu do.

“I can help chop the veggies too,” Junkyu said.

“No way,” Jihoon shook his head. “Remember the last time you tried to slice that onion? It took you minutes to slice half of the onion.”

“Maybe Junkyu-hyung can just rest in the living room with the others?” Yedam suggested.

“Nooooo I wanna helppppp,” Junkyu whined.

“Aigoo this kid. Fine, you help me and Yedam to separate the veggies into two piles, okay?”

“Easy!”

“Yup, so you just need to put in the veggies that are hard into this bowl here,” Jihoon said as he showed the first bowl to Junkyu. “And then the softer veggies you just add it here,”

“Okay, got it.” Junkyu replied confidently.

“Alright then, let’s get started!” Jihoon said in a motivated tone.

Doyoung and Mashiho started prepping for their jjigae on one side of the kitchen, leaving the middle kitchen island to be occupied by Yedam, Jihoon and Junkyu.

Since Doyoung and Mashiho were in charge of cooking first, the both of them had swarmed over the kitchen stove area, completely focus on making their dish.

Jihoon and Yedam started on chopping their vegetables, facing Junkyu who was standing opposite them, waiting for both his friends to finish chopping so that he could start doing his task.

Junkyu’s back was facing the kitchen entrance, which makes him turn around to see who it was that passes by every time he hears any noise coming from outside the kitchen.

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHA STOP THAT!”

Junkyu turned around again, hearing the laughter that came from the living room.

Jihoon noticed his friend’s behaviour and said, “Hey, Junkyu-aa. You can join them inside if you want to. There isn’t much to help yet here anyways,”

Junkyu turned to face his friend. “Nah, it’s okay. I wanna stay here. I want to help around too,”

“Okay, fine.” Jihoon smiled at him.

“Oh, right. Where did Hyunsuk-hyung go to? He’s been out ever since I first arrived just now,” Yedam asked as his eyes stayed focus on the carrot he was chopping.

“Oh yeah. I think hyung went to the lobby downstairs to get his package from the office.” Junkyu answered.

“Ahh,”

“Hyung, how many spoonsful of red pepper powder again do we add if it’s this much water?” Mashiho spoke up in all of a sudden, directing his question to Jihoon.

Jihoon stopped chopping and placed his knife onto the cutting board. He walked up towards the stove and glanced over the pot that was placed over the hot fire.

“Hmm. Just add in 3 tablespoons. I think that’ll do.”

Mashiho nodded and poured the red pepper in, making the whole kitchen engulfed in its smell.

“Woo! That smells good already!” Jihoon cheered as he watched Doyoung stir the broth.

“Haha, this reminded me of that spicy jjigae we ate with y/n that one time,” Yedam chuckled.

“Oh? I don’t remember eating that with y/n,” Doyoung said.

Everyone turned to look at Yedam now, curious of when he actually ate with you without them knowing about it.

“Oh silly me! It was that time when Jaehyuk-hyung and the rest of our dorm members visited her place to retrieve his banana milk!” Yedam laughed slightly. “Man, that was a long time ago,” he said shaking his head.

“Hmm. It’s been a while since I last saw y/n. I kind of miss her,” Doyoung said.

Again, this time, everyone stopped what they were doing and stared at Doyoung. Doyoung was busy looking at the broth he was stirring so he didn’t realise that everyone was looking at him.

“Y-yah, why are you suddenly missing y/n,” Junkyu spoke up.

Doyoung lets out a short laugh, finally looking up from the pot and noticing that everyone’s eyes were on him. “Of course I miss y/n. Don’t you all do? She was always so fun to have around,” he responded.

“True,” Yedam nodded. “Oh, speaking of y/n! Hyung, didn’t we both watch something interesting the other day?” Yedam gestured at Junkyu, asking his hyung about this.

“Hm? What about y/n?” Jihoon asked.

“Yeahh hyung! Junkyu and I saw Chani-hyung and y/n being very close the other day,” Yedam said.

“How close?” Jihoon snickered, not believing fully what Yedam had seen. “I mean, remember that time when you kids tried to lock Chani and y/n in that practice room during their building tour? You guys said they were being too close with each other too. And that was all a misunderstanding ‘cause we’re that close with y/n too, don’t forget that.”

“Noooo this one is different! They looked like a couple! Isn’t that right, hyung?” Yedam asked Junkyu.

Junkyu shrugged. He had lost interest in the conversation the moment Chani’s name was mentioned.

“Huh. Now that you mentioned it, I do notice Chani being around y/n a lot lately. Like, they were already close. But nowadays they looked extra close,” Mashiho suddenly spoke up.

“Hyung…is it really alright to let y/n be that close with him though?” Doyoung asked, a worry expression forming on his face.

“Pfft there’s no need to worry. Y/n will be fine. Beside, she’s got us, isn’t that right, Junkyu?” Jihoon said confidently.

Junkyu lets out a loud sigh. “I don’t know. I don’t care.”

“Hm? You don’t?” Jihoon stopped chopping the green beans he was holding. Usually, he would’ve assumed Junkyu to be joking when he said he doesn’t care about something but judging from his tone and expression, Jihoon knew something was off.

Junkyu lets out another loud sigh. “I really don’t. They can do whatever they want. He’s literally leeching on her so yeah, if she gets burnt along the way for getting involved with him too much, that’s on her,”

Mashiho shook his head, showing that he disagrees with what Junkyu had just said. “That’s not very nice, hyung. They’re both our friends. We should look out for them whenever we can. You know, so that they won’t get into trouble with you-know-who,”

Yedam, Doyoung and Jihoon all nodded at this.

Junkyu lets out an annoyed scoff.

“I’m back! Where is everyone??” They heard Hyunsuk’s voice saying from outside the kitchen.

“I’m in the kitchen, hyung!” Doyoung called out back to his hyung.

“Yah, Kim Junkyu. You better watch out on what you say. You don’t really mean that,” Jihoon suddenly said, resuming the conversation they had earlier.

“Why wouldn’t I mean it? Y/n is a nobody! She’s just someone we literally know for months—hardly achieving a year! Who cares what happens to her? She can hang with whoever she wants.” Junkyu replied in a bitter tone.

“Junkyu…” Jihoon said slowly.

“No, no. Don’t try to sweet talk me into talking good things about y/n. She doesn’t care one bit about us. We’re always looking out for her, but what do we get in return??” He paused. Junkyu took a deep breath before adding, “Y/n is annoying,”

Jihoon laughed nervously. “HAHAHAA very funny Junkyu! Look at you! What a horrible joke to make!” he continued laughing awkwardly.

Junkyu shook his head. “No, I wasn’t kidding! Y/n really is annoying. She’s a bother—”

“HYUNG STOP!” Yedam said loudly, shocking everyone.

Junkyu was too shocked to speak now since Yedam has never raised his voice towards him. Junkyu was about to get mad at him but then he noticed the fear and worried looks on everyone’s faces.

And that’s when he felt cold sweat dripping behind his neck.

He slowly turned around.

And there at the kitchen doorframe, stood you and Hyunsuk—both eyes wide and speechless.

Junkyu swallowed the lump in his throat.

“Y-y/n…” he began to say, his voice small now.

You stood there quietly, your fingers fiddling over the small paper bag in your hand. You stared back at him, your heart beating loud by the second.

To be continued…

[nalu4emily]

Writer’s Block

Natsu and Lucy just being cute. Because who doesn’t love a bit of fluffiness?

Sweaty. No, that made it sound gross. Hot? No, that wasn’t good either. Damn it! Why was it so hard to describe a mature scene, without making it sound ugly. Sex wasn’t suppose to be ugly; it was meant to be beautiful and should be read as such.

Lucy sat there at her desk, wracking her brain for a words to describe one of life’s most intimate moments; how deeply connected her two main characters were as they made love to each other. It was the ultimate climax, the finale of her new romantic novel that she’d spent hours writing. It was the very last chapter; the one that brought everything to a close. So it had to be good or the entire book would be ruined, but her mind just wouldn’t play ball.

It was so infuriating! That’s all she needed to continue—just one last damn word and she would be finished – her story complete.

Instead she let out an exaggerated sigh and flopped onto the table, her pens and paper splayed everywhere. The blonde needed to try and relax, maybe find a distraction from the book she just couldn’t finish, her stupid writer’s block getting in the way.

“Hey! I was reading that, move your big head!”

She knew that voice. All too well in fact, and now she was all too aware of the his presence behind her.

“Natsu?! W-What the-? What are you doing here? Weren’t you supposed to be fishing with Happy?” Her voice uncontrolled, raising in volume with each word until she was almost yelling. Her mind was beyond chaotic; did he just say he’d been reading her story whilst she was writing it?

“I was, and now I’m here. That’s usually how time works, isn’t it?” He raised a brow at her extremely red face and stifled a laugh that was trying to force its way out. “Can I finish reading now?”

“Absolutely not! First you break in and then you read my stuff, without permission!” She could barely keep her emotions in check. How much of the story had he read? Did he even know what he was reading? “Why were you reading it in the first place? I don’t think it’s a genre you’d be interested in.”

“Oh yeah, says who?” He crossed his arms over his chest and waited, a cocky smirk making it’s way to his face, enjoying how flustered she was getting.

“Says… Uh…” Well shit! He’d got her there. After all these years, she’d just assumed he didn’t care that much for sex and romance, she’d never actually asked him about it. “Oh, it doesn’t matter!” She huffed, leaning back into the chair she was sat on.

“Don’t get so worked up. I like reading your stories whatever they’re about, Lucy. Your a good writer, but ya seem to be stuck on this one.” He said, leaning himself against the bed post, gauging her defeated profile as she returned to look at the scattered pages of her manuscript and sighed dejectedly.

“Yeah, your right, I’ve been stuck for ages on describing this last bit, but nothing I write seems to fit.”

“Hmm… Do you need some help?” Natsu asked, tilting his head at her.

“Help? What kind of help?” She eyed him suspiciously.

“Well, where do you usually get your ideas from?” He asked her.

“Experience, mostly. But this is, uh, n-new to me…” She stuttered, feeling colour return to her cheeks as she averted her eyes away from his.

“Huh…” Understanding fully, he took a minute to help think of a solution, smiling brilliantly when one struck him. “If you have none, then get some.”

Lucy’s eyes widened in shock; what did he just say?

“What?!” She all but shrieked, making Natsu wince at the shrill noise. “I can’t just go and get experience! Do you even know what you’re saying? What you’re suggesting?”

“Sure, I do. I just read the thing, duh!”

“Then you know what is happening? What the main characters are doing? I can’t just go and do that with some random stranger.” She couldn’t believe he’d propose for her to just go out and have sex with whoever took her fancy.

“I’m not suggesting with a stranger, Lucy. I’d kill ‘em before they laid their hands on you.” He stepped forwards, placing one hand on the back of her chair, his face peering down at hers with eyes that seemed to burn right through her soul. “I had someone closer in mind.”

Her mouth ran dry. She couldn’t peel her eyes away from his dominating figure, feeling ever so small and vulnerable under his fiery gaze. “C-Closer?”

“Hmm… I’d say a few inches.” His eyes quickly glancing at the distance between him and her.

She gasped at his words; was he referring to himself? She felt adrenaline course through her veins at the hopes that might be true. But they were shattered in an instant when he reached for the piece of paper on her desk instead.

Feeling her mood drop, she glared at the dumb dragon slayer, “Natsu? What are you doing now? Give that back!” She should have known better than to believe he had the guts or the initiative to make a move.

“I’m reading what the characters are doing, you wanna make this real then we gotta copy what you’ve written.” He said, briefly glancing at her before going back to the page he was holding.

Lucy was dumbfounded. He was reading it like some instruction manual. Feeling her annoyance surface because of the dumbass she called her best friend, she tried to snatch it from his hands.

“Wait, Natsu, just hand it here! It doesn’t matter any more!” He moved quicker than she did, dodging her attempts with ease. “Hey, this isn’t a game. Stop messing around!”

Holding her back so that he could read the last little bit, she jumped at him, forcing his arm to move and lunged straight for the paper. Without warning, he moved the page away from her, revealing his face behind it and allowed her to come at him. Her mouth level with his, he grabbed hold of the sides of her head and brought her to him, meshing their lips together in a soft and gentle kiss.

He pulled away not long after, gauging her reaction, making sure he hadn’t over stepped the mark. Her face was beautifully flushed, she was standing on her tip toes with her hands resting on his chest. Gazing up a him, her doe eyes were magnetising, luring him in, wanting to taste even more of her.

She could barely comprehend what had just happened. Natsu kissed her? He’d kissed her full on the lips, on purpose no less. She couldn’t believe it. As she stared into those dark, dark eyes of his, she saw no insincerity, no tease, just pure, honest Natsu and that made her a little giddy.

“Natsu?” She managed to squeak out, his face still so close to hers with half lidded eyes, staring deeply into hers.

“I think we should perfect that first, you know before we move on to the other stuff.” The boy could barely keep from touching her, his stomach filling with butterflies. Lucy had remained quiet and still, trying to figure out what the hell was going on.

“T-The other stuff?” She stammered; did he mean the more heated stuff? She wasn’t sure if she was ready for that, they’d only just shared their first kiss.

“Yeah, but maybe we should just keep to kissing for now, what do you say?” His infectious grin took over his cheeks and Lucy found it hard not to mirror him.

“S-Sure, Natsu, I’d like that.” She answered, as his lips impatiently pressed softly against hers, feeling those little sparks ignite.

They moved at a slow and passionate pace, hands tangled in hair and drool clinging to their lips. It was messy and new, but exciting and loving, just as it should be.

Maybe one day Lucy would find that word she was looking for; maybe she’d get to experience it for herself too. But for now, she didn’t care, her focus was on the boy in her arms and nothing – not one word could describe how happy that made her feel.

Thanks for reading! :)

[akaashisupremacy]

Job Wanted: Boyfriend

Summary: Makki is callous w/ his words. After a big fight, he knows he needs to make changes. Can he make things work before it’s too late? 

Notes: Right on time for Hanamki’s birthday!! In the fic it’s his actual bday too lol!! Inspired by hcs about Hanamaki’s toxic traits that lives in my mind rent free!

January Fic List || Masterlist || Read it on Ao3

Hanamaki  x reader  

genre: ANGST, lovers to exes to ??, pining, tw: toxic-ish relationship (wc: 1.9 k)

“It’s not my job to be your boyfriend.” Takahiro Hanamaki mutters with his arms crossed, “Stop trying to police what I have to say!”

Your eyes widen in disbelief. You knew it was over between you two then and there.

You met Makki while working in a soba restaurant. He was charismatic, smart and efficient. Whenever you two were on the same shift, he tried to make the work fun. You both started hanging out after work—indie films in the university theatre, library study sessions, walks home after work. Makki even traded shifts just to see you more often.

All you were asking from him was to be more sensitive. Enough was enough. Sure he liked you and you liked him, but compatibility was a separate thing altogether. He knew you were touchy about comments on your art, your looks and your confidence, but he just didn’t know when to shut up.

“You’re wearing that sweater really?”

“This piece looks okay, like subpar on a good day.”

If he doesn’t want to have to be careful with his words, then  you don’t want to have to be around him. You swiftly grab your things and walk out the door. When it finally sinks into him two seconds later, he stumbles onto the door apologizing. You refuse to hear any of it.

“I didn’t mean it-- ”

But fun hang outs and serious dating are two different things, and the end of your relationship proved just that.

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

Makki tries to apologize to you when he sees you, but nothing seems to work. Eventually he gives in and allows you both to drift apart—he stops catching you in the library and trading shifts, which was fine by you.

After a few months, Makki finds himself staring at his phone one fateful afternoon. He’s still debating whether to make the call or not. In the end, he shrugs his shoulders. There’s really nothing to lose.

When you see his name, you pick up because of your curiosity more than anything.

“To what do I owe this occasion?” you snort. You hear him repress a chuckle.

“Damn, I haven’t said anything yet and you’re hostile already.” he laughs. You threaten to put the phone down.

“Hey, on my last birthday you said that may all your wishes come true, right? Well, my next birthday is coming up and my wish is to spend the day with you.”

“I’m in Kyoto right now. You’re in Tokyo.” you point out. You are both on semestral break. Has he already forgotten that you spend your breaks with your grandmother in Kyoto?

“I’ll take the day off and I’ll come down to see you.” he holds his breath as he waits to hear your answer, “We haven’t hung out in a while.” he adds casually.

“Can’t you just spend it with someone else?” you sigh somewhat resigned, “The not hanging out part is on you. Don’t put that on me.”

You could hear him thoughtfully inhale on the phone before he replies, “No, I want to spend it with you. Besides, I’ve always wanted to see Kyoto.”

“I’m ending the call now.” you roll your eyes, unnerved by the whole conversation. The audacity of this man!

“I promise I won’t do anything or say anything dumb!” you hear him yell over the phone as you get ready to end the conversation.

“Sure.” You click the end call button.

———————————————————————

On his birthday, you do go out with him. You find yourself waiting at the Kyoto Central Station, wading through the crowds to find his light brown head searching intently for you. He smiles when he sees you. You feel a mixture of sadness and nerves. You’d never thought he’d be so callous with you when he first smiled at you like this.

If anything, today is little more than a break from work. You’re also determined to be so quiet to the point of cold to make the experience so awkward he’ll never want to come to you again.

“I really want to change.” is the first thing he says to you over doughnuts and coffee.

Makki can easily tell that you are still not back to your old self. Despite the strong smell of brewed coffee that pervades the Kyoto Central Station, you sit quietly on your seat distractedly eating a sandwich.

You almost pretend to not hear him. Instead you turn to him with a blank expression in your face and look away.

“I’m serious. I know I have a problem. You’re not the first person to leave me for the things I’ve said.” he adds.

“I’m sure the next person you date will appreciate that.” you mumble diplomatically.

“Don’t give up on me.” you hear his voice pleading, his eyes sincere and not their usual sleepy nonchalance.

You put down the donut and cross your arms, “I don’t owe you a second chance. You know that, right?”

“I’m really sorry—“

“Makki, I hate so many things about myself. I don’t need you to taunt or repeat them to me. You’re an above average friend at best, but you’re a terrible person to date. I can’t even call you my boyfriend because you you said it wasn’t your ‘job.’” you sigh deeply with your hand on your forehead, “Can you see why I’m not enthusiastic about you?”

Announcements left and right and the ceaseless shuffling of the busy station fill the voids of your conversation.

“So why spend the day with me?” he pauses, eyes wide with curiosity looking straight into yours.

“To prove a point to you. Even when you’ve made the effort to come down here, you’re finding it difficult to watch what you say. Do you find that sustainable?” you tilt your head inquiringly.

He nods, less confident than usual “I want it to be sustainable.” There was some uncertainty in his eyes.

“I can already see it, Makki. Two weeks of this and you’ll be ready to blow your top because you’ll be tired from having to be on edge all the time.”

“I’ve got to start somewhere, right? It’s a change of mindset I’m realizing, but it’s not impossible. I’ve been trying to be more careful and it’s been easier. I’m just a little tense because I’m around you today.” he says quietly, “I’m really trying. I promise.”

“Feels nice to be the one that’s not tense,” you let slip a smirk.

———————————————————————————————

At the end of the day, you’re back at the train station with Makki beside you. You’ve taken him to see the Golden Pavilion and its surrounding touristy streets. You stop by a bookstore and a shop for sweets. You buy a book, he buys mochi. Despite your coldness, Makki was intent on catching up with you. He wants to know what you’ve been up to, what movies you’ve been catching, what your grandmother’s inn is like. It’s difficult not to warm up to him.

“Can I kiss you goodbye?” he abruptly asks before heading to his platform. You’ve made your way back down to the center of the train station where all the schedule is displayed.

The first time Makki held your hand was in a train station in Tokyo. You were on your way back from a concert when he slipped his hand into yours in the busy platforms. You don’t pull away, instead you hold on tight. You remember pressing your head against his chest on the ride home, his chin resting on the top of your head. Neither of you said much. The companionship was more than enough. That moment seems so long ago.

“No.” you swiftly reply.

“Not even a forehead kiss?”

You firmly shook your head. You half expect him to insist and push, to say something about you being a prude and playing hard to get, but instead he just nods.

“Can I hold your hands? I want to hold you before I go.” Makki doesn’t murmur nor is he reticient. He speaks in his regular tone, extending his hands to meet your midway.

You hesitate at first then grudgingly agree. You reach out to hold him, your fingers lingering on each other’s barely interlaced.

“Let me know when you’re coming back to Tokyo. I can meet you at the train station and help you with your luggage.” he waves before turning his back. You watch him get lost in the crowd of the station.

After Makki leaves, you head back to the inn to help with the dinner service which is more crowded than usual. Your Obasan is grateful that you made it back.

Towards the end of dinner service, your phone rings incessantly. You curse and head outside of the kitchen to quickly answer the call. Of course, it’s from Hanamaki.

“You could’ve just texted.”

“I miss you already. I just wanted to hear your voice.” he says. His usual flirtatious tone is absent.

“Now that you’ve heard it, can you put it down? I need to go. Obasan needs my help.” you whisper hurriedly, “Now is a terrible time to call.”

“If you want to stop talking, you don’t need to drag your grandma into this.”

“I’m serious, she needs help washing the dishes. You can call later when we’re done with tonight’s service.” you chastise him, “We’re a little short staffed in the kitchen. You should know what it’s like.”

You rush back in to help wash the dishes as your Obasan brings more dirty trays of dishes. Momentarily you put Makki out of your mind. But when the inn becomes quiet again, you pull out your phone and stare at it.

Do you make the call again? After ten minutes of indecision, you give in and make the call.

Makki sounds slightly surprised on the other end of the line, “Done with dinner service?” He probably expected you to not follow through.

“Yeah, done for today.”

He clears his throat, “I slipped something into the book you bought. Did you see it yet?”

You put the phone down to reach for your bag. A thin white envelope is sandwiched between the first page and the cover. You open it up. He hears you unfolding the letter.

“Care to explain?” you ask with an eyebrow raised as you read through the lines. Hanamaki Takahiro sent you a resume…?

“It’s my application—“

“We don’t need another dishwasher here. Besides, you live too far away.” you cut him off.

“To date you.” he finishes. You’re too stunned to reply. You feel your heart skip a beat as you fumble at your phone.

“Don’t pass your judgement just yet.” he adds, “I know I have a lot to prove. I want it to be my job to love you and make you happy. Just know that.”

“...I’m not sure I want to give you a second chance.” you whisper, your voice inevitably cracking. You clutch the envelope a little too tightly, accidentally crumpling it.

Makki pauses before answering, “That’s up to you, but I-I’ll be here in case you do. Anyways, thanks for spending the day with me. I missed you a lot and I’d like to come back someday…if you can let me come over.”

You listen to him breathe in the other end of the line. You imagine him twiddling with a pen with one hand and his phone on the other.

“Goodnight, Makki.” you nod. You missed him too and you want him to come back. You don’t say yes or no, nor will you make promises. For now you let things hang in the balance.

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

If you liked my style of ansgt, you can check out another hq ansgt about Daichi here. 

Taglist: @itstheee-ha-chan @kaizumi @holaaaf @glxar @francxsca

If you wanna be added, DM or comment!! Don’t be shyyyy

[bitch-butter]

hello! can i request "You didn't do anything wrong, there's nothing to apologize for" for any ship of your choosing? or any AU you want? i just really love how your writing flows, it's so cohesive-- don't take this the wrong way but like. i adore sitting down and actually analyzing your stuff structurally? seeing how it works and weaves together to make a whole just makes the shriveled up eng lit major inside me really happy.

w o o f this one ran away from me a little bit, it incorporates some Things I was thinking of re: forgiveness/webgott last month, and it's bit different than pure H/C but I hope you find something to like in it! Thank you for your lovely compliment~

Yes, it's webgott bc i am chained to The Rhythm

4. "You didn't do anything wrong. There's nothing to apologize for."

He cleared the drawer once more, eyes scanning into its dark corners for any sign of a missed sock, undershirt, some hidden treasure that he had many years ago deemed worthy of being put in the back of the underwear drawer. Raising his brows, Joe shook his head at himself as he closed it resolutely, tossing his bounty into his pack and stuffing the top with the sack that contained his bathroom shit.

Even remembering the days he used to be able to leave the house with just his keys made him want to sigh like a goddamn cow in the summertime. Now he needs the bag, the car, and Web just to go across the bay.

Speak of the devil, Web padded into the bedroom with his usual September expression: weary, exhilarated, slightly frustrated. Wordlessly, he crossed past Joe to the bed and slumped face-first onto it with a groan.

“Done?” Joe questioned, zipping up the bag.

Making a soft grunt of a sound, Web curled his arms around his head. “Done,” he said, face mashed against the bed.

“Well, get to it,” Joe said, stepping over to land a light smack against Web’s ass and grinning at the outraged whine he got in response. “Don’t want to be late,” he tossed over his shoulder as he stepped back out to the hall, making for the kitchen.

Even out here he can hear the sound Web makes, somewhere between a groan and a sigh. “I’ve changed my mind!”

“No you didn’t!” Joe called back, grabbing the butter left on the counter and shoving it in the fridge, letting his eyes make one final sweep around the kitchen. “If you don’t show your reputation won’t ever recover.”

“Your mother loves me,” Web toned, and Joe couldn’t help a snicker as he moved through the hall back to the bedroom, where Web had at least moved to lay on his back, knees up. “She wouldn’t care, she’d probably let me move in with her if you ever kicked me out.”

Rolling his eyes, Joe stood at the food of the bed, arms folded. “Not with Yom Kippur, you’re not allowed to fuck around. She was happy you said you wanted to come, you don’t want to disappoint her.”

Heaving out a long breath, Web folded his hands behind his head, eyes lowered as he peered down at Joe. His knees tilted just so, his lips quirking, and Joe could see the fucking thought forming in his head before he had a chance to open his mouth.

“No.”

“We have time,” Web said, extending one leg to poke his toes into the left side of Joe’s stomach.

Clicking his tongue, he took hold of the other man’s ankle, giving it a soft pull and smiling in satisfaction as Web tried to pull it back to no avail. “If you think I’m going to miss my last fucking meal just to fuck you then you have another thing coming, alright?”

With a disgruntled twist of his lips Web pulled his leg in again, a little jerk that ushered Joe down onto the mattress as well. “You weren’t this dedicated last year,” he noted lightly, free of the reproach that might have accompanied the words if his family had said them.

Shaking his head, Joe decided to throw Web a bone and settled beside him, at least staying up on his elbows. “Different places,” he said simply.

Web looked up at him fondly, hand coming up to smooth over Joe’s hairline, sweeping it back and trailing behind his ear. “So, how will we spend tonight, then?” he asked quietly, eyes still following along where his hand moved. “If not in bed.”

Breath going slow with the contact, he tilted his head into the touch contentedly. “Well, tonight we’re going to eat like kings, Rach will probably be trying to get drunk in the pantry and hoping nobody notices, we’ll sleep in the attic, then tomorrow we spend a lot of fucking time at the synagogue.”

“And we don’t eat,” Web stated, assured.

“No eating, no drinking,” Joe nodded, brow furrowing at the sight of an eyelash on the other man’s cheek, reaching for it mindlessly.

Humming, Web closed his eyes to accommodate him. “Does this have a corresponding Catholic holiday I can retrofit in my mind?”

“I don’t know, you guys got a day where you feel really guilty about everything?” he asked, presenting the lash to Web balanced on the tip of his finger.

Blinking, Web frowned thoughtfully. “Birthdays.”

“Make your wish, you prick,” Joe grumbled, holding back his smile as Web grinned up at him, pausing momentarily before blowing the lash away into the room. Indulgently, he moved in closer, cupping the warmth of Web’s face in his palm and looking down on him with a feeling as close to serenity as he ever has here, in their bed, the sunlight coming in through their window.

Web returned his gaze, his own hand tracing along the back of Joe’s neck. “Do you confess?”

“Sure.”

“Alone?”

“All together,” he corrected, absently rubbing at the spot on Web’s cheek where he had plucked the lash. “You recite it, while you do this,” he said, shifting gently to bring his hand down to Web’s chest, knocking gently against him, just above his heart, with a loose fist.

Web watched his fist, a bemused smile growing over his lips. “Why?”

Settling his hand over the spot, Joe rubbed gently at him. “To punish your heart.”

Smile stilling over his face, Web absorbed his words with quiet interest, eyes floating down along Joe’s neck to the dark burrow of his chest where it pressed against the bed. “Isn’t the sinning hurt enough?”

Trust Web to try to loop him into a conversation about semantics of all fucking things. He must be more anxious to start his classes than Joe thought. “I don’t know,” he half-shrugged, eyes on his own hand over Web’s heart. “If you’re the sort who doesn’t like hurting people, maybe.”

Web nodded, accepting, smile turning more wistful, thoughtful “That’s nice, to be able to get it all out of the way at once.”

“What, you turned in a paper late?” Joe teased.

Flicking behind Joe's ear, Web looked up at him balefully, just a touch of that familiar humor at the edge of his mouth, like a dimple made of light. “I’d apologize to you, obviously.”

Huffing out a surprised laugh, Joe looked discerningly down at him. “You got something you want to tell me?”

“Don’t be stupid,” Web shook his head softly, hand curling around his neck once more and seeming to anchor him down even further, their faces close enough to see the earnest upset around the angles of the other man’s eyes. “You know.”

Web does this. Likes to see monsters where there are none, invent storm clouds heading for them, and it makes him behave like a child sometimes and a man others. He’s a contrarian, down even past his bones and into the dust of the universe that lived in his being, it is an unchangeable fact. Telling him that there’s nothing to worry about accomplished nothing at the best of times.

Not that it’s ever stopped him trying.

“You don’t have to apologize to me for a fucking thing,” Joe rebuked solidly, hand moving from Web’s heart to his head, fingers resting just north of the delicate point of his hairline. “Sincerely.”

“I do, I…” Web parried, eyes unyielding where they looked up into Joe’s, somehow free of the sort of conflict he contained when he started thinking he and Joe had different opinions. “I know that this isn’t easy, dealing with me. And you do,” he continued, and this close he can see the way his eyes are stuck on his lips, the thought filling him with affection. “And you’re amazing.”

Giving in, chest bowing in like the hull of a sinking ship, he caught Web’s lips with his own, a hot smack of a thing that stole his breath, gave it to Web, who in turn gave it back to him better, better. “You don’t have to apologize for living, doll,” he shook his head, their nose practically knocking. “That’s not the point.”

Web didn’t seem soothed by the kiss, still appearing occupied with some train of thought that sought to carry him off and away from Joe’s eyes. “I still think of it sometimes, you know.”

Joe frowned. “What?”

“That day,” Web said, as though it should be evident.

He has to pause and think. They’ve lived a lot of days together, not just these ones that they’ve spent in this apartment, but the ones they spent as voices over the phone, words on a page, men in uniforms hiding from each other like chameleons. How is he meant to know which day Web means from the thousands they’ve had?

Looking down, the blue of Web’s eyes reminds him absently of Austrian skies. Mountains.

Yes. He knows.

“I think sometimes I should apologize to you and never stop,” Web said gently, managing to keep hold of Joe’s eyes as they blinked back and forth and back and forth into the memory.

He hadn’t thought about that day in a long time. Which isn’t to say he never does, but it’s been a time. If he concentrates he can still feel the sun on his neck, the unnatural sweatiness of his palms, how his face had somehow felt cold, waxy. Picturing the house, the dark guts of it with the man inside squirming like half-digested meat, still fills him with the primal sort of rage that only visits him in his dreams. All around the periphery of the memory is Web, that day he had decided that whoever David Webster was he wanted no part of it.

“It’s in the past,” he excused weakly.

Web pulled in a short breath, face carefully open. “I know it is.”

“So let it be.”

Frown deepening, Web’s brought his eyes back down, and even this small departure felt like shrapnel. Joe combed through his hair, rubbing at his scalp, jostling him enough to win his eyes back. Web opened his mouth, struggling, before settling into the intention. “Do you still think about it?”

“Of course,” he said dully, voice still caught somewhere in his memory.

“Do you ever think I owe you an apology?” Web asked, voice quiet and eyes steady.

The question drops through him like rain. He’s thought of that day hundreds of times, thousands. When he lets his mind walk back up that hill, shining in the sun like the cover of the storybooks his mother would read to him, it isn’t Web he’s thinking of. He thinks of a forest of trees, of the way that one can become millions, and those millions become legion. That day had been about a lot of things, he hadn’t ever intended for Web to be one of them.

Web has apologized to him in too many ways to count. But this memory is deeper than they are, the kind of wound that might close over but will still carry a piece of metal, even smaller than a sliver, nestled inside of them both.

Web gives him grief, for better and for worse. But he gives him peace, too. That’s all the apology he wants.

His silence has drifted over the room like fog, but Web looks at him with the sort of clarity that only a few years ago made him feel like a bug on a pin, but now simply makes him feel known.

“I’ll punish my heart for forgiveness tomorrow,” Web said softly, smile turning up his lips, hand against Joe’s neck.

Huffing, Joe shook his head, taking up Web’s mouth once more, briefly. “You have it,” he rasped, kissing just the corner of his lips, and then the soft heat of his cheek. “You’ve had it.”

Web smiled into the kiss, leaning up to press a matching one to Joe’s own cheek. “Good.”

Swallowing, he followed Web back down, their faces close. “Will you accept mine?”

A disbelieving laugh rumbled up Web’s throat, his head giving a dismissive shake as he gave Joe’s neck a hard rub. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” he criticized, eyes bright, cheeks flushed. “There’s nothing to apologize for.”

But they haven’t always been that lucky. This sort of luck isn’t a permanent state of being.

“I don’t know,” he muttered, before pausing momentarily. “Let’s say you forgive me for the first sin I haven’t committed yet.”

Laughing, Web took his hand from Joe’s skin, holding it up beside them in some offering. “Deal.”

“Deal,” Joe confirmed, taking his hand, giving it one firm shake, enough to gather up Web’s laugh, before bringing it to his lips and laying a kiss across its back. “Now come on, let’s go.”

[voiceless-terror]

Ink (TMA Fanfic)

For TMA Gerry Week 2021 Day One

Pairings: Jonathan Sims/Gerry Keay/Martin Blackwood

Rating: T

Summary: Art’s how Gerry shows his love- a few snippets where he does exactly that. No powers-au, Gerry and Martin own a bookstore. Takes place in this universe but can be read alone!

He’s getting used to having people who want him around.

Gerry’s had friends, sure. Once he left the institute and began working odd jobs, he realized how much he genuinely enjoyed having company. He still isn’t the most social of creatures, but he does enjoy a night out with old coworkers who enjoy his stories and laugh at his jokes. But now, with Jon and Martin, they want him around all the time. Even after they started dating, even after he moved in, he was always waiting for the other shoe to drop. It never does, though. And Gerry, in spite of himself, begins to relax. Begins to feel at home. 

He’s laying on the couch, scribbling in his notebook when Martin surprises him with a peck to the top of his head. “Whatcha drawing this time?” He was very excited when he heard Gerry liked to draw, immediately asking to see his notebook or anything he’d done. He’d only recently shown him some of his work; he knows Martin would never make him feel embarrassed, but, well. It’s another part of himself no one’s ever been interested in. Until now.

“Jon,” Gerry responds, leaning into the touch. It’s an amateurish attempt in his opinion, just a rough sketch. But he’s got the proportions down and he never forgets a face. Couldn’t forget, in Jon’s case. 

“That’s…” Martin trails off, peering closer at the page. “That’s really good. You’ve even got him smiling!” It’s not that Jon never smiles; he smirks and laughs and snarks. But he’s managed to capture that rare, bright grin that makes Gerry’s heart skip a beat.

“Mhm.” Gerry nods slightly, pen tapping against his sketchpad. He turns around, seeing the naked fondness in Martin’s eyes and has a particularly wicked thought. “Y’know, this is how he looks when he’s watching you.”

Martin sputters, turns a lovely shade of red. “W-What? Really?”

“No,” Gerry smirks. “It’s the way he looks at the Admiral.” A groan and a light smack to the shoulder prove his joke is unappreciated. “Sorry, sorry! I’m sure he also looks at you that way-”

“You’re an ass.” Martin rolls his eyes but oh-so-gently picks up his hand, pausing to inspect the ink-stained fingers. “A very talented ass.” His mind blanks as Martin kisses them one by one.

Thoroughly distracted, he never gets around to finishing that sketch.

_______

Painting, as it turns out, is a lot harder than it looks. Still quite fun, though.

They’ve just found the perfect space- a little out of their price range, but Gerry’s got savings and Jon was willing to part with a bit himself. Martin fretted over his ‘meager contribution,’ as his savings were depleted in the final months of his mother’s care. Ridiculous that he would ever think his contribution meager, considering he’s the one who scouted for locations and did all of the paperwork and stayed up late, agonizing over their finances. Some days, Martin’s the only one keeping them sane. Gerry and Jon are due to remind him of that.

Which is why they’re handling the decorating. Jon claims to have no artistic talent, but he does have a knack for making places seem like home. There are boxes filled with knick knacks and rugs and pictures, all waiting to be hung somewhere once Jon’s finally settled on a layout. Gerry’s left with painting the walls, labeling the different sections in whatever way he sees fit. He’s currently at work on the horror section, painting a stylized eye above the tarp-covered bookshelf when he hears the sound of the bell; Martin must be back from the store. They’d run out of appropriately-sized nails and after a minor freak out, he’d been on his way.

“Find what you were looking for?” he calls, listening as Martin’s footsteps grow closer, the crinkle of bags in his hand. “Here to save the day?”

“I wouldn’t call it saving,” Martin snorted, setting them down on the ground with a thump. “But it’ll certainly help. That looks nice.”

Gerry pauses, considering his work. He really needs a darker green for this. “Thanks. It’s a work in progress.”

“I’m sure it’ll turn out great,” he murmurs distractedly, and Gerry turns to look back at him. The lines of his face are more pronounced than usual, as are the shadows under his eyes. A sure sign that the stress is getting to him. Gerry understands, and he’s not much for being particularly sappy but he does what he can to help.

“Hey,” he calls down to him from his ladder. “C’mere. Need your opinion on something.”

Martin sighs, but heeds the call. “What is it? You know I’m rubbish with this art stuff-”

“It’ll only take a second. Come closer.”

“What am I supposed to be looking at-”

“Closer.”

As Martin huffs and leans towards him, Gerry darts his paintbrush out, drawing the quickest of hearts on Martin’s cheek before he can pull away. 

“Gerry!” Martin startles and his hand reaches up to wipe at his cheek.

“Don’t smear it, it’s a heart.” He pauses, going for his gravest voice. “Because I love you so much. I’ll be devastated if you ruin it.”

“I don’t appreciate that.” Martin sighs but drops his hand, his face softening already. Exasperation has never been paired with fondness, not when it’s aimed at Gerry. Another thing he’s starting to get used to.

“Shame. It looks good.”

Martin goes home with a heart on his other cheek as well. He looks ridiculous. Gerry loves it.

_________

When Jon’s particularly stressed, Gerry leaves him post-it notes.

Often he leaves before Gerry even wakes, so he’s got to do them the night before. A little cat here, a little caricature of Bouchard there. He leaves a variety, depending on his mood. Jon always gives him a kiss when he gets home, a soft ‘thank you for the note,’ and that’s all he needs, really, to keep doing it. He likes making Jon smile.

Martin’s gone grocery shopping and Jon’s pulling a late night again, so Gerry’s alone in the flat looking for something to do. There’s nothing on Netflix worth watching (or at least, worth watching by himself) and he’s not in the mood for his latest novel, so he decides he’s going to be productive, make a list of all the things he has to do this week. Jon’s always going on about lists, though he leaves them everywhere and never seems to accomplish everything on them. Maybe it’s the act of making them that’s relaxing. It’s worth a try.

He makes his way over to the second bedroom they (mostly Jon) use as an office. He’s sure Jon’s got a little notepad here that he can use, and he wants it to look as official as possible. He opens the left hand drawer but only finds Martin’s receipts, and on the right he finds a plain-looking notebook, a little worn with use. Maybe that’s what he uses-

Gerry opens it. Pauses. Blinks. Feels something heavy and thick form in his throat.

It’s his notes- his stupid little sketches, his ‘have a good day at work’s, his smiley-faces and little hearts. Each carefully placed on page after page with an accompanying date, neat and tidy, like a little scrapbook. Mum used to throw out his ‘doodles,’ as she called them, told him his time was better spent on actual art, but Jon’s kept all of them. Like they mattered. Like they were important. He sets it back down on the desk and just stands there, heart beating hard in his chest.

Gerry’s tearing up like some sort of moron so he’s distracted and doesn’t hear Jon come home, doesn’t hear his usual grumblings and sighs. Doesn’t hear him until Jon’s right behind him, startling him with a hand on his arm. “Sorry, I was just- Gerry, are you alright?”

Alright. Alright. It’s a word that doesn’t encompass everything he’s feeling. Wanted, embarrassed, a little overwhelmed. And so, so happy. 

He turns around and grabs Jon in a fierce hug, overcome with affection and eager to hide his stupid tears as he squeezes Jon to his chest. “You’re adorable, you know that?” he says, peppering kisses to the top of his head despite Jon’s weak protestations. “Real fuckin’ cute.”

Jon melts into his embrace, even as he complains. “I’ve got no idea what you’re on about, Gerry,” he says into his chest, the words muffled. “You’re being absurd.” Jon’s just about the only person he knows that uses ‘absurd’ on a daily basis. It’s insufferable. Gerry loves it.

“Just let me hug you, you little ogre.”

_________

Sometimes, Gerry’s the one who’s got to be up early. Doctors appointments are a bitch, and after a brief scare last year, it’s important that he keep up with them. Martin helps him schedule, marking the appointments on the calendar with a bold black marker that can’t be missed.

This morning’s particularly brutal, with an eight o’clock appointment an hour’s commute away. Jon went to sleep at a reasonable hour last night and he needs the rest; Gerry knows if he wakes Martin, he wakes them both. Jon’s never been good at sleeping alone. 

He’s stumbling blearily around the kitchen, about to put the kettle on when he notices it. On the table is a post-it note; he doesn’t remember leaving one for Jon last night, but he’d been rather tired, so who knows? Gerry putters around, fixing his tea and nibbling at toast when he finally spares it a glance. 

It’s not for Jon. It’s for him.

Good luck at your appointment! It reads in Martin’s familiar, neat script. Accompanying it is a small doodle that has to be Jon’s; it’s not particularly good, but it clearly shows a little Gerry, makeup and all, with a plaster on his cheek and a heart over his head. It looks like Jon spent time on it. Spent time on some stupid little post it note to make Gerry smile. 

He puts it in his pocket. Takes it out a few times in the waiting room, stares at it. Everything looks fine, the doctor says at the end of the appointment. He’s so lucky.

He’s so lucky.

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29635833