#I think this is just pms because barely ten minutes ago I was really happy

[blvejeanbaby]

Sticky Tattoos | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x afab!reader Summary: JK is a horny menace and reader is no better Word count: 6k Warnings: alcohol use + drinking games, swearing, mentions of mental health, implied cheating, suggestive

"Should I talk to him tonight?" You applied another coat of pink lipgloss, even though the light shade was barely visible. You thought it fit your outfit; a completely baby pink outfit as the theme of tonight was rainbow. Each of your girl friends had picked a different colour, while the boys were supposed to show up in black and white. It started out as a joke - the girls not showing up in the black and white theme. You had considered telling the boys to just show up in whatever, but with black and white the theme was truly limited, and as time grew, you couldn't help but imagine how Jungkook would look. And you hated yourself for suddenly only thinking of him.

You had known Jungkook for years now, as you ran in the same circles and shared a friend group. Somewhere along the line you started developing feelings for him, which you pushed away around the time you graduated high school and started attending different universities. Now, it had been about a year since you had seen him and about half a year since your talking stage came to an end. Without even so much as a date to make up for the months you spent wasting time on him. Although you didn't exactly regard it as time wasted... Not when he was going to be here tonight and, finally, you could talk to him.

"About... you two?" Your best friend, Bitna, looked at you with a thoughtful expression on her face. "I don't think you should. It's been months at this point. And if he really is dating that girl..."

You pursed your lips at the mention of her. She was a recent development. In fact, you hadn't even known of the girl's existence until a week ago, when Jungkook suddenly shared an Instagram story with her. You had, of course, looked her up afterward and determined her name to be Somin. She had a private account so you couldn't see more than her profile picture - a photo of what had to be Somin herself, with strawberry red hair, posing with a peace sign, her face concealed behind a mask. "We'll find out tonight, I guess," you said. If Jungkook and Somin really were dating... You could kiss your chances goodbye. Your heart felt crushed at the prospect.

"Y/N, Bitna, are you two helping with the decorations or not?" Your third friend, Hyewon, whose house tonight's party was at, was looking at the two of you with an exasperated expression on her face. Only 15 minutes until her birthday party would officially begin and there were no decorations up yet. You had spent all of your time getting ready and absolutely none getting the house ready.

"Of course." You jumped up, happy to be freed of the conversation about Jungkook and Somin for a moment. As Hyewon got ready, putting the finishing touches to her makeup, you and Bitna struggled with the lines of colourful birthday flags and the two balloons - a 2 and a 4 - indicating Hyewon's age. The final step was to set the table for beerpong and the smaller table, by the couch, with snacks. By the time you all were ready, the first guests started arriving, precisely on time.

Not everyone was on time, of course. Namjoon was, since he always miscalculated cycling times and ended up being five to ten minutes early for every single meet-up. Olivia was, because she lived in the same apartment complex as Hyewon and had promised to be there as soon as she had got ready after work. After that, the stream of people died down until Hoseok and Jin showed up together at 10:15 PM. Then, Hoyeon and Nani entered at 10:45. At 10:50, Sara, Yoongi and Jimin arrived, followed by Taehyung at 11:00. All of the boys looked betrayed at finding none of the girls wearing black and white, but instead wearing full colour.

You were, meanwhile, getting more and more nervous by the minute. The joke with the outfits barely mattered anymore. Instead, you watched the time tick by on the screen of your phone, anxiously waiting for the moment Jungkook would arrive. He was rarely ever late, but today he had boxing practice that ran until 9:30, so it was unsurprising that he hadn't shown up yet. But then, finally, the doorbell rang. Hyewon, excited that the last person had finally arrived, jumped up and ran to the door to answer. Her front door was shielded from the living room by her long hallway, so you couldn't see who was there. But you heard every agonizingly slow step Hyewon and Jungkook took as they crossed the hallway and -

The air was knocked out of you. Jungkook had never looked more beautiful than he did that day. He wore a simple black T-shirt and jeans, but the short sleeves perfectly exposed his skin, a little tanned from the change of the seasons, covered by tattoos both coloured and black and white. His hair was messy from the summer wind outside. God, how you wished that he wasn't actually dating Somin.

"Y/N, your turn!" Olivia had moved a phone across the table. Shaken up, you focused your attention back on the game. You were playing Boomit, a party game where you had to pass the phone to the person at the table who was the most likely to do or be a certain thing. The phone would tick like a time bomb and explode at a random moment, making you drink a few sips from your drink or have to complete a challenge.

You quickly read the text on the screen out loud: "Most likely to fall in love with someone in this room." Your heart thumped louder. The universe was playing games with you, you were sure of it. "Bitna." You shoved the phone across the table at Bitna, who coloured beet red at being handed the phone like that. Her crush on Yoongi would certainly not be exposed just by this, unless she messed up now. It was just a silly game.

Luckily, Bitna quickly read the next question out loud, leaving no one enough time to ponder over the question and your answer. "Most likely to get drunk and pee on themselves." This time, the phone was passed to Sara, who turned red as she tried to explain how it wasn't true.

You looked up again, eyes scanning over the rest of the room. Taehyung and Hoyeon had taken station on the couch, where they were drinking red wine and catching up. Yoongi was scanning through Hyewon's record collection, where she had left him before answering the door for Jungkook. Where did he go?

Your eyes finally found him standing in the kitchen, where Hyewon was pouring him a drink. He stood casually leaned against the fridge, his eyes scanning the room as well. You couldn't prevent what happened next. Your eyes met. Jungkook smiled. You forced a smile back and focused your attention back on Boomit. The phone was passed to Hoseok for being the most likely to brush their teeth with someone else's toothbrush and - he had to complete a challenge as the bomb exploded.

While the others were coming up with a challenge for Hoseok, your attention reverted back to the kitchen. Jungkook was still standing there, smirk evident on his face as he spoke to Hyewon, head bobbing to the music playing in the background. Finally, Hoseok was dared to show the players his most recent message - one to Jin to let him know he was outside his apartment. It was not the exciting text everyone had been craving for, but Hoseok had completed the challenge and so the game continued.

You played until the round was over, but didn't join for a second, excusing yourself to get a new drink instead. Hyewon had re-joined Yoongi at her record player and Jungkook had taken up a space by Taehyung and Hoyeon on the couch. You walked into the kitchen, where the temperature was significantly lower than in the room. You pressed your warm hands against your cheeks. Get it together, Y/N! You have no confirmation on whether Jungkook and Somin are actually dating or not and this is still Hyewon's birthday. You're supposed to be having fun and not to be thinking about how good Jungkook would look naked.

You said all of that to yourself before you poured yourself a mixed alcoholic drink and went back into Hyewon's livingroom. The clock was creeping closer and closer to midnight. Hyewon was about to turn 24...

Instead of seating yourself at the table to continue playing Boomit, you joined Taehyung, Hoyeon and Jungkook on the couch. "...was so sweet. So now I'm thinking of getting it altered a bit. Here." She pulled up her shirt to rest just underneath her boobs, so she could show off her rib tattoo to the boys. It was a dragon, its tail meandering, its wings folded up against its body.

"Wow," Taehyung said, nodding appreciatively as he stared at Hoyeon's tattoo. "I don't think I could ever get a tattoo." He tore his eyes away from the delicate skin and started playing with the rim of his wine glass.

"Because of the pain?" you asked.

Taehyung shrugged. "That. And it's so permanent."

"I'm mostly scared of the pain," you said, thinking of your endless Pinterest board that included all of the tattoo designs you had thought of immortalizing on your body. It was so tempting to book an appointment and get something tattooed, but the thought of the pain always held you back.

"It depends on the placement," Jungkook said. "Some places don't hurt at all." He pointed at the eye on his arm. "This one didn't hurt at all. But the ones here..." He twisted his arm around to show his finger tattoos. "They hurt like a motherfucker."

"Mine hurt too," Hoyeon offered, ripping your eyes away from Jungkook's tattoo. You had allowed your eyes to wander over the designs a lot already. You were sure that, if you were to have more time, there would always be a new detail to admire. "But it's definitely the placement. And you want a tiny tattoo, right?"

You nodded. Having already shared your ideas with her, since she was the only one out of your friend group besides Jungkook who had tattoos, Hoyeon knew exactly the type of designs you were interested in.

"What kind?" Jungkook asked.

"I'll show you!" Excitedly, you grabbed your phone from your pocket and pulled up your Pinterest board, creatively named 'tattoos'. You scrolled through it, showing him all the drawings of flowers, stars and constellations that you had thought of tattooing on your skin. Until, at the very bottom, there was another one... It was a combination of everything you liked, a depiction of a woman with horns holding a sword, resembling the ox and the taurus - your zodiac signs - and what you imagined was your fighter spirit.

"Where would you place that?" Jungkook asked, pointing at the bottom addition to your Pinterest board.

"I-I don't think I want that on my body." You locked your screen. Taehyung and Hoyeon had already checked out of the conversation, had moved onto something a bit more philosophical. Something about the immortality of art when put out into the universe, unless it came down to tattoos, that weren't so permanent as one might think.

"You don't?" Jungkook raised an eyebrow, his pierced one. God, he looked better than ever.

You shook your head. "Like I said, the pain... And I don't know what a good placement would be. Not on my arm, ilke the examples..."

"How about here?" You jumped as his fingertips suddenly touched the naked skin of your thigh. You felt goosebumps rise up on the skin of your arms. You quickly rubbed them, hoping to be inconspicuous with it, but probably failing.

"I don't know about that," you said, hoping your voice didn't sound too shaky. What suddenly possessed this man? You were sure he couldn't be dating Somin. Why would he touch you like that if he were? He had never touched you like that... Even during your talking stage, he hadn't implied that he had wanted to do anything to you, anything sexually that is. Not that this touch was sexual... Geez, you needed to touch some grass.

"It would look really good on you," he said. Did you imagine Jungkook licking his lips?

You sat up a little straighter. "Oh, would you look at the time!" you said. "Hoyeon, come on. We need to prepare Hyewon's surprise." You jumped up, pulling Hoyeon away from her philosophical conversation with Taehyung and into the kitchen. She eyed you strangely, but you didn't allow her time to ask anything. Instead, you took Hyewon's cake out of the fridge and started putting the candles on them. Not 24 small candles, but two digits for her to blow out.

As you were busy with the preparations, Jin entered the kitchen for a new beer. Hoyeon immediately pounced on him: "Can you tell Bitna to gather everyone at the big table? Including Hyewon."

"Sure." Jin nodded and, with a new bottle of beer in his hands, disappeared back into the living room. Suddenly, the Drake song on the speakers was changed into a rendition of Happy Birthday.

This was your cue. Hoyeon lit the candles on the cake and you had the honours of carrying it into the livingroom and placing it on the table in front of Hyewon. You all sang Happy Birthday to her and she blew out the candles, accompanied with loud cheers and whoops.

"What did you wish for?" Jimin, seated to her left, asked.

"If I say it out loud, it won't come true!" Hyewon's eyes shone, the little lights of fun. Your smile widened, temporarily forgetting Jungkook and his possible girlfriend, as well as his move with touching your leg the way he had. Instead, your full attention was on Hyewon and making sure she was having the best birthday of her life up until now. You'd definitely try to make next year's even better, but for now... This had to be her night.

"Time for presents!" Bitna clapped her hands excitedly. Everyone started pulling out gifts left and right.

It took about twenty minutes for Hyewon to unwrap every single present and thank the person they were from. There were cards for her to read and a cake for Bitna to slice. Everyone had a perfectly cut slice, after which the birthday playlist was switched back to the general party playlist. A new Doja Cat song started playing and everyone was, again, split up into their own groups.

You were with Olivia and Bitna in the kitchen, giggling and mixing cocktails, when suddenly Hyewon and Jungkook entered the kitchen, Jimin following close behind. "Can I pick first?" The latter asked, hurrying to keep up with them.

"Sure." Hyewon presented something to him, something that looked like a sheet of paper.

You made room for them at the kitchen sink as you poured the last of the cocktail into Bitna's glass. "There you go." You handed the girl the cocktail and clanked glasses with her and Olivia. After congratulating each other on a delicious cocktail, you turned back to Hyewon and the boys at the sink. Hyewon was now sticking the paper onto the skin of Jimin's wrist and she looked more like an elementary school teacher than you had ever seen her look at her actual teaching job. The way she gently held his wrist and pressed the wet rag onto the paper on Jimin's wrist...

That's when you realised Jungkook was still in the room. He stood just behind Hyewon, eyes trained on you instead of on Hyewon and Jimin. You gulped, hiding behind your cocktail. What was he thinking of, looking at you like that? His eyes were unreadable.

"Your turn!" Hyewon spun, the full sheet of paper in her hands again, toward Jungkook. "Which one do you want?"

He turned his gaze away from you to look at the sheet. Only then did you notice what it was they were doing. They were applying stick-on tattoos.

Jimin peeled the wet rag away from his skin to reveal the perfect imprint of a rose on his skin. "Wow, it turned out so pretty, Hyewon!" He excitedly showed his wrist to you. "Didn't it, Y/N?"

"Hm-hm!" You nodded, moving a little bit closer. "Do you have others, Hyewon?"

"Of course." She pulled up a second sheet of paper, one that didn't have flowers on it, but something closer to Hoyeon's dragon tattoo. And then Hyewon held out a third sheet of paper and you gasped. It wasn't exactly the tattoo you had shown Jungkook, but it came close... "Do you want one?" Your eyes flicked to Jungkook. Was this his idea?

"I don't know yet," you said, grabbing all three sheets from Hyewon. Jungkook had chosen his and was now wetting the discarded rag again to undergo his own sticky tattoo. He wanted his on the bare skin of his neck, only just obscured by a few strands of hair. Hyewon was really gentle with him, too, moving his hair up, away from the rag, so that it wouldn't get wet.

This was too random a thing for Hyewon to pull out, especially when only an hour ago you had been chatting to Jungkook about the kind of tattoo you were thinking of getting. This was no accident, you thought, as you started carefully cutting out the tattoo you wanted. Not the one of the lady, but a smaller one, of a rose.

You were fully expecting Hyewon to be the one to put the tattoo on you, but as soon as she had completed Jungkook's, she was called away by Namjoon, Nani and Hoseok to play beerpong, leaving you with Jimin and Jungkook. The first, however, was too busy playing around on his phone to notice you were ready to get tattooed now, leaving you with Jungkook. You gritted your teeth. This wasn't really happening right now.

"Where do you want it?" Jungkook asked, a smirk on his face. Of course there was.

"Behind my ear." You indicated the spot behind your left ear with shaking fingers.

"Move your hair for me, okay?"

You nodded, doing as he said. With your back turned to him, it was difficult to predict his actions. You heard the water of the faucet run, indicating he was wetting the rag... And then there was nothing, until you felt wet fingers move your hair to the side, apply the piece of paper and then... There was wetness from the rag seeping down your neck, cold droplets that made you shiver. No, it wasn't Jungkook's touch that made you feel like that.

You were both suspiciously quiet as he pressed the rag against the soft spot behind your ear. You had seen celebrities get tattoos there - Rihanna, Ariana Grande... If only getting actual needle tattoos was as painless as this...

"Any others you want?" Jungkook asked as he slowly moved the rag away from your skin.

"Uh..." Did you want the other one too? Did you want him that close to you? That wasn't such a hard question to answer, actually. You wanted him so much closer. And this was... not dangerous, was it?

"Think about it. I want another." He put the rag on the counter top and selected another tattoo.

It was your turn to touch him now. Gosh, you felt like a school girl. You turned to the faucet to wet the rag again, while Jungkook cut out the tattoo he wanted. When you stood in front of him, ready to tattoo him up, he pulled up his shirt to reveal his perfectly toned stomach. "I want it here." He pointed at the skin stretching over his hip bone. Fuck. Act normal.

"Okay." You nodded, grabbed the paper and the rag and pressed both against the spot he had indicated. You felt your heart flutter, but pushed the feeling down. You still didn't know if he and Somin were dating... You were determined to find out tonight. You needed to know... This was dangerous.

"You know," Jungkook said, his stomach moving as he spoke. It made your hands slip on his skin. "I'm thinking of getting a tattoo there."

"Oh yeah? What design?" You hoped your voice didn't sound as though you were struggling for your life. You hoped you sounded casual, normal.

Jungkook shrugged, and again, your hands slipped because of the movement of his body. Unconsciously, you stuck out your free hand to grip his side, keeping him in place. Jimin, still in the kitchen with you, still on his phone, was completely forgotten. "Maybe swallows. Or bay leaves. On both sides."

Okay and now what were you supposed to answer? Your mental picture of what it could look like was breathtaking. You didn't think you would survive seeing the real thing. "Nice," you said. "Any meaning behind it?"

"Not all tattoos have to have meaning."

"I suppose not." Was this fucking tattoo done now? You pulled the hand around his waist away and lifted both the rag and the paper. The print of the tattoo was near perfect.

"Have you decided?" Jungkook asked.

"On what?"

"If you want another."

Another one of the sticky tattoos. You decided that there was nothing wrong with applying another. He wouldn't be doing all of this, teasing you, if he was dating Somin, would he? If he didn't like you...? And so you nodded. "I want this one." You pointed at the lady with the sword.

"Where?" Jungkook hid his smirk by turning his face from you, wetting the rag over the sink. But you watched his features change and knew what he was hoping you would say.

"My thigh."

Jungkook's smirk stayed hidden, but he turned around and kneeled down in front of you. The sight alone was enough to make your heart beat faster and a certain spark to shoot to your core. You watched, bottom lip in between your teeth, as he applied the sticky tattoo to your outer thigh, pressing the wet rag against the paper. And then - you audibly gasped - he put his other hand against your inner thigh. His gaze stayed fixed on his hands for a moment, until it traveled up and up...

When your eyes met, you felt your heart increase speed. Everything about the look on his face was demonic.

He knew what he was doing.

It took forever. That one look lasted an eternity. "I think it's done," you said, giving yourself a pat on the back for not sounding nervous or... horny.

"Hm." Jungkook pretended to peek below the rag. You knew he was pretending, because he barely lifted it away from your skin enough to see the paper below. "It needs another minute." His finger tips tickled your inner thigh. It felt... delicious.

Your hand grasped his shoulder, willing him with that touch to stop, take the rag away and pretend it didn't happen. But there was no pretending. And you didn't say anything, didn't object, didn't protest. Because you really didn't want to.

"Woah!" There was only one person who sounded like that. You painfully tore your eyes away from Jungkook to look at Bitna, who had just entered the kitchen with Nani and Yoongi following close behind. "Jimin, what's going on here?"

Jimin looked up from his phone, the troubled expression on his face disappearing immediately. As he joked with Bitna about you and Jungkook's position, you glanced down at Jungkook again. The hand on your inner thigh had slipped away. He lifted the rag and peeled off the tattoo paper, revealing the lady with the sword to the world. "There you go," he said, getting up. "What do you think?"

You stared at the tattoo thoughtlessly. It could have looked horrible, but all you said was: "Nice."

Jungkook smiled at you before so casually walking away that you had to grip the edge of the sink not to fall over from the whiplash. He was off, with his dangerous smirk and a beer, to act as though nothing had just happened. He pushed past Yoongi, who was blocking the doorway to the living room. Yoongi gave him a pat on the shoulder, as if to congratulate him. You acted as though you didn't see it.

Bitna and Nani immediately rushed over, both girls wanting to know everything. With heated cheeks you tried to explain it was just Hyewon's sticky tattoos. But Bitna knew better and Nani, from the looks of it, did too. "Well," Bitna eventually said, "keep in mind what we talked about earlier tonight."

Somin. You remembered. How could you forget?

"I know," you said, grabbing your drink and entering the living room. You didn't allow yourself to look at Jungkook, who had joined Namjoon, Hyewon and Hoseok at the beerpong table. Instead, you went over to sit with Sara, Olivia and Jin, who were talking about nothing. It felt good to join in on a conversation you didn't have to use all of your brain power for to understand. You glanced over at Hoyeon and Taehyung, still at their spots on the couch. Would they hook up tonight? Or were they just the best of friends, lost in their own world?

You sipped your drink, allowing yourself to glance over at Jungkook. He was celebrating a win with Hoseok. How could he be so casual about all of this? Especially if he was dating Somin... Ugh, you could still feel the tingling sensation of his finger tips on the places where he touched you, the weight of his hands on your body.

You gulped down your drink. Tonight was about having fun and about Hyewon having the best birthday ever. You knew that you shouldn't let it be ruined by Jungkook, however much you liked him. However much you craved to have successfully made it through the talking stage with him. To be the girl he was soft launching on Instagram stories...

"I'm going to get another one," you said, waving your cup through the air as an excuse to leave the conversation with Sara, Olivia and Jin. The others were still in the kitchen. You wanted to grab Bitna and have her calm you down, have her make it possible for you to go back inside and pretend like whatever Jungkook's plans were, were not having an effect on you at all. But Yoongi and Nani and Jimin would think there was more to it and you didn't want to give any of his closer friends the satisfaction of blabbing something like this to Jungkook. And so you allowed Yoongi to mix a drink for you and joined in on their conversation about crypto. Typical.

The longer you were separated from Jungkook - not just in terms of conversational partners, but also not being able to see him - the more relaxed you felt and the more fun you were having. In an attempt of Nani's to get you back into the spirits, you had taken two shots with her. Yoongi's drink mixing was ridiculous, leaving you with a cup filled 3/4 with alcohol and 1/4 with soda instead of the other way around and slowly but surely you were feeling like you were floating. You liked this state of mind, where both Jungkook and Somin were not on your mind and you could truly let go.

That is, until you went inside of the livingroom to sit down and rest your feet for a second and you noticed that Hoyeon and Taehyung had vacated it and, instead, Jungkook was sitting there with Hyewon. You joined them, already hating your choice to sit.

"...do you speak English with her?" you overheard Hyewon asking.

Jungkook shrugged. "Her Korean isn't that good after so many years abroad, so..."

Hyewon nodded, playing with her hair as she thought of another question to ask. "She lived in America, right?"

"California," he said. His eyes flicked over to you for a second, before falling back on Hyewon's face. "She's here to care for a grandma or something."

"So, Somin will be going back?"

Jungkook nodded. "As soon as her grandmother's better."

"And you're getting serious?" Hyewon was asking all of the questions that had been haunting your mind ever since the first Instagram stories started popping up. You gnawed at your lip, watching Jungkook's face as he spoke.

He shrugged. A non-committal answer.

"Did you know this?" This question was not directed at Jungkook, but at you.

Your eyes widened in surprise about being addressed. "About Somin? No." You didn't look at Hyewon as you spoke, but at Jungkook instead. He had never had any obligation to tell you about Somin before, but he also had no right to touch you the way he had, twice now, if he was getting serious with someone else. You bowed closer to Jungkook, shutting Hyewon out, and added: "I hope you're happy with her." You didn't say it viciously, hadn't mean it that way either.

Jungkook looked more than taken aback. He also didn't seem to know what to say. Good.

You stood up, even though your feet were still hurting, and left the livingroom. You didn't leave for the kitchen, no, you left for the hallway. Halfway through putting on your shoes, you gulped down the remainder of your drink. God, it was strong. Where did Yoongi learn how to make such bad mixed drinks? Definitely not from the times he was still a bartender. He would get fired on the spot if he was a bartender at your bar.

You pushed open the front door and was already out into the apartment complex' corridor when you were stopped. "You're not going out there alone."

Jungkook. It wasn't just his voice that you recognized, but also the strong grip around your wrist.

"Why not?" You turned around, pulling your wrist out of his hand in the process.

"Because you're drunk. You can barely stand up straight."

You put your hands on your waist. You felt 7 years old. "I can do whatever I want, Jungkook. Lord knows you have done the same."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he nearly growled. The fun, electrically charged atmosphere that had existed between you two while putting on the tattoos, had completely dissipated. He was angry. Why would he be angry with you? You were the one that should be angry at him for moving on!

"You know what it means." You took a step backwards, pulling away further from his reach and further into the corridor. "I'm going for some air. Alone." You turned around and stomped away in the direction of the small outside balcony on the side of the building. It was meant for smokers and was decorated with plants and picknick benches. You passed all of them until you were at the very edge of the building, where a tall barrier separated you from certain death. If you were to fall down from this height... But even you in your drunken state wouldn't be able to get over that barrier without significant effort.

You heard the door of the balcony slam shut behind you. You didn't need to turn to know who had put on their shoes and followed you out. Even if you had hoped for a kinder soul, like Bitna. But instead a male presence joined you at the barrier. "You don't have the right to be angry with me about her," Jungkook said, not wasting any time in getting to the point.

"I have every right," you said.

"No, you don't. You were the one that basically ghosted me, might I remind you?"

"A lot happened," you growled. You didn't want to think of your declined mental state, not right now. You had been in a happy, giddy mood, until Hyewon fired all of those questions at Jungkook and you overheard all of his answers. "And you never reached out to me, either. Love and communication comes from both ways."

"Love?" You could almost hear in his voice how Jungkook raised his eyebrow. The pierced one, probably.

You scoffed. There was no part of you that would admit that you had used that word to describe what there was between the two of you. Of course there was love, the type the ancient Greek would probably call philia, friend love. But was there eros? "I didn't mean it like that."

"I think you did," Jungkook said. His stubborn attitude was annoying you.

"Why did you do that?" you asked.

"Do what?"

"Touch me like that. Inside?" You gulped. You hadn't really meant to ask it, but you had to know. "If you have... her... what do you want with me?" You couldn't say her name, even now. It seemed Jungkook couldn't either.

"I don't have her," he said, his tongue playing with his lip ring.

"That's not an answer." But he didn't offer anything else. You sighed and turned around. You wanted to walk away, but you knew that you had to stick this one out. And there was still this something stirring in your chest, a small part of you that would ignite the fire of hope within your heart, the second you suspected that, perhaps... there could be more. "You know, I think of you all the time. And when that happens, I hope you think of me."

Jungkook groaned. "Y/N... you're so unfair."

"I'm just saying what I'm thinking," you said.

He turned around as well. "Y/N, look at me." You didn't respond at first, not wanting to give in, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of being able to look at your eyes and see your soul. But he grabbed your chin in between his thumb and pointer finger and turned your face toward his. "I wish it was you."

You wished that you knew what to say to that. "W-what?"

"Every time I'm with her, I wish it's you. That you're smiling at me from the passenger seat of my car, that you're walking Bam with me." Bam, his dog, that you fell in love with the second you saw him. His car, with its fine leather seats that smelled like Jungkook's own perfume. You'd been inside that car a few times before. "I have always wished for you." His fingers slid from your chin to your cheek, his palm coming to rest against it. Your face was slightly tilted upward, granting him access to your lips, if he wanted to capture them. He only had to reach out... But there was so much left to say before he could, before you could...

"So why didn't you reach out?" you asked. The wind made you shiver in your light clothes. Jungkook's other hand, the one that he had held against your neck earlier that night, pulled you into his body to shield you from the cold.

"I didn't know if I could," he said. "I thought you didn't want me anymore. Didn't want to talk to me."

He was so, so far from the truth, but you understood what kind of signals you must have given off in the time your mental health was at its lowest. "I wanted to. Really badly. But I couldn't." Your hand found its elbow, resting halfway between your bodies. "I'm so sorry. For making you feel that way."

Jungkook nodded, accepting your apology. "I'm sorry, too. For misunderstanding. For moving on without communicating with you properly." A small smile appeared on his face. "For torturing you in that kitchen."

You chuckled. "I can think of worse torture."

"So... Am I forgiven?"

"You were never not forgiven," you said. And you meant it, you really did. However angry you had been at him, you had forgiven him for what happened with the talking stage months ago. That's why talking stages never develop into anything more.

"Good." Jungkook's smile widened and he inched ever closer. "Does that mean you'll let me kiss you?"

There was still Somin to think about... But you were done thinking.

You nodded. And even though, it was not your birthday that day, your wish got granted regardless.

#jungkook x reader #bts x reader #jungkook x you #bts x you #jungkook imagine #jjk x y/n #jungkook x y/n #kpop x reader #kpop imagine #kpop fluff #jungkook fluff #bts fluff #kpop fanfic #bts fanfic #bts imagine #mine #my writing #kpop scenarios

[ratlegend]

You ever just go into a conversation and only halfway through you realize you're just in a shitty mood?

#I think this is just pms because barely ten minutes ago I was really happy #but now I'm kinda blegh and wanna curl up in bed and never leave #nevermind deal with people I don't necessarily like #If I had to talk to someone rn why can't I just...not and also can I cuddle a friend #my post

[spencers-renaissance]

i can't forgive me & you can't forget

Summary: Spencer is happy that his boyfriend is as compassionate as he is, but watching Derek do everything he can to help Strauss with her alcoholism when he stood by and did nothing back when he was struggling with his dilaudid addiction is beginning to take its toll.

Tags: hurt!spencer, miscommunication, angst, insecurity, est. rel., hurt/comfort, cuddling & snuggling, angst w a happy ending, fluff TW: referenced past drug use, addiction, and overdose, implied/referenced alcoholism

Pairing: Derek Morgan x Spencer Reid

Word Count: 4.5k

Masterlist // Read on AO3 // The other fic in this universe

Inspired by @marisatomay’s post here!!! The title is from the second part of the poem Betrayal by Lang Leav.

It’s pushing ten pm by the time Spencer finally hears the front door open and close with a soft click, hears the rustling of Derek ditching his leather jacket on the crowded coat rack and toeing off his shoes — no doubt placing them neatly at the side of the hall like he always does — and listens to his footsteps as he nears the bedroom where Spencer’s been holed up since Derek left.

“Hey, baby boy,” Derek says with a warm, relaxed smile, his fingers already working on undoing his shirt buttons, before digging through their wardrobe to find a more comfortable top.

“Hey.”

Spencer watches him with tired eyes. He’s been feeling as hurt and despondent as he does this evening for weeks now, but tonight is the first time he doesn’t have the energy to hide it. He’s spent the entire afternoon in bed, and he’s certain it shows in the imprints of the creased pillowcase on his cheek and his messed up hair, and where just a couple of days ago he’d rush to hide those tells, he simply doesn’t care enough anymore.

Derek turns around from the wardrobe and shrugs off his shirt, replacing it with a soft blue t-shirt Spencer’s always liked on him. “Have you had anything to eat yet?”

Spencer shakes his head. Derek undoes his belt and switches his trousers for a pair of grey sweatpants before walking over to the bed and climbing onto the mattress, grinning cheekily as he rolls over Spencer’s body and leans down to press a tender kiss to the tip of his nose.

It’s sweet and romantic and so painfully normal, and maybe that’s exactly why he suddenly finds himself swallowing back tears. He’s hardly spent any time with Derek outside of work in weeks and he’s hurt and sad and struggling, and it’s only making it worse that his loving and attentive boyfriend hasn’t seemed to notice. Really, Spencer knows he needs to communicate, and that a significant part of his pain is his responsibility, but the shame—

“Well that just won’t do,” Derek murmurs, interrupting his thoughts as he brushes his fingers over a lock of curly hair resting on Spencer’s temple. “I’ll go and make you something. Or we can order in? What do you fancy?”

Spencer shrugs, looking away. He’s not trying to be difficult, it’s just incredibly hard to think about food and a relaxing night in with your partner when you feel like your insides are splintering and you’re just barely holding yourself together.

Even without looking directly at his face, Spencer can see Derek’s brow furrow and his happy expression fade, and soon enough Derek’s fingers are at his chin, gently moving his head until he’s looking at him again. “Hey, pretty boy,” he says gently, looking so concerned it makes his chest ache, “what’s wrong? Tell me what’s going on in that big old head of yours.”

So much of him wants to give in and tell him everything, wants to spill his fears and his anxieties and his anger and his shame onto the sheets of their bed and lay it all out for him. He wants to shout, “See? This is who I am! This is all my mess and my pain and my regret! Look at it!”

But he can’t. He squeezes his eyes shut for a moment before opening them again to meet the swirling worry in Derek’s deep, beautiful brown eyes and he wills himself not to cry. “Nothing,” he lies. “I’m just tired. Hungry.”

He knows Derek doesn’t believe him, but there isn’t much he can do if Spencer isn’t willing to communicate, so he nods reluctantly and leans down to place a kiss on his forehead this time, lingering there for a moment longer than he usually does. The feeling of his boyfriend hovering over him and asking him what’s wrong and kissing him so tenderly is all Spencer’s craved for weeks, but now it’s here, he still feels sad and empty and hollowed out by shame and bitterness, desperate for something more without so much as an idea as to what exactly more might entail.

“I tell you what, I’ll go make you some tortellini, alright? There’s a pack in the fridge and it only takes a couple of minutes so I’ll be back before you know it,” Derek promises, and Spencer can’t decide if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.

Regardless, Derek hops off the bed and heads out to the kitchen, leaving Spencer alone in the softly lit bedroom. He pulls the duvet further up to his chin and buries his face in it, the soft fabric gentle on his skin, and the comforting scent of Spencer’s shampoo mingling with Derek’s cologne settling him slightly.

Derek had spent the afternoon with Strauss at the rehab centre. And not for the first time.

The problem is, how can Spencer be mad at him for that? Really, it’s the epitome of his character: genuine, constant, unconditional compassion for everyone around him, no matter who they are or what his history with them might be. Of course he’d see Strauss struggling with her addiction and swoop right in, getting her settled in at the centre and spending hours with her on visiting days, fighting alongside Hotch to persuade the director to let her keep her job.

But watching him leave every week, watching him text her encouraging messages, hearing him talk about her progress and recovery… it strikes a nerve deep inside Spencer. He isn’t proud of how he feels. He knows it’s petty and illogical, but he can’t help it.

Because somewhere deep in his soul, an old version of himself, a sad, lonely, scared, addicted-to-dilaudid boy is crying out, why didn’t you do that for me?

It’s that question that really plagues him. They’re called into work the next day for a fairly interesting case in North Dakota, and there are some fairly strong links to the world of academia, so usually, Spencer would be all over it, reeling off facts and statistics and reaching out to his contacts to further the case. But for some reason, he just can’t get his head in the game.

He finds himself zoning out on the jet and wandering off at crime scenes without even knowing where he’s going. Initially, his team had assumed that he was thinking, or was going somewhere deliberately that might help them with the case, they’d all counted on Doctor Reid to come up with some brilliant theory to bring them closer to catching their unsub.

But Hotch had quickly realised that his head was somewhere else and kept him close to his side from then on. At least staying at the police station with Hotch and being tasked with reading through the unsub’s literary work and constructing a geographical profile both gives him something specific to focus on, and — as much as Spencer hates to admit it — keeps him away from Derek.

“You want to tell me what’s going on?” Hotch asks gently when they both find themselves at the coffee pot in the late afternoon. He doesn’t look over at him, his eyes focused on the stream of coffee and creamer headed straight for his mug. Spencer knows it’s a tactic to make him feel less ambushed and more relaxed, but that doesn’t stop it from working.

“No,” he says honestly.

Hotch nods in acceptance. He puts a warm hand on his shoulder and squeezes briefly. “Well, you know where I am if you change your mind.”

Both JJ and Emily eye him suspiciously throughout the case as well, but no one is more confused and concerned than Derek. Spencer tries not to think about the irony.

“Baby, what’s got you all distracted like this?” Derek asks softly when they’re finally alone in their room that night, full up from the rushed dinner they’d all had in the lobby before crawling to their rooms for a couple of hours’ sleep before the manhunt continues in the morning. “This is so unlike you and you know it.”

Spencer doesn’t reply, just continues quietly changing into his pajamas before brushing his teeth and washing his face. Derek’s still sitting in the same position when he comes out, looking frustrated and contemplative, and Spencer feels guilty for making him feel this way, but he just doesn’t know what to do. He can’t act like everything's okay because it isn’t, and he’s tired himself out from pretending that it was for weeks, now. But he can’t tell him what’s going on either.

The thing is, how is Spencer supposed to admit that he’s still hurt over something that happened almost five years ago now? And how is he supposed to admit that Derek doing the right thing is only reopening wounds he’d tried so hard to heal and close? That both Derek and Hotch had specifically helped him heal and close?

He doesn’t know how to verbalise his feelings without sounding petulant or pathetic, so he doesn’t. He keeps them buried deep inside him and hopes desperately that no one comes digging.

“I’m fine, Derek,” he lies again, leaning down to kiss him gently before rounding the bed and crawling under the covers. “Just having an off day, I guess.”

Derek sighs but doesn’t push any further, clearly knowing a lost cause when he sees one. Instead, he follows in Spencer’s footsteps and gets ready for bed silently, whispering a quiet good night before switching off the lamp and climbing into bed on the other side.

It feels like the expanse of white sheet between them goes on for miles.

It’s the first time Spencer’s regretted Hotch’s decision to continue letting them share a room.

The question continues to plague him over the next week. He gets marginally better at pretending he’s not falling apart at the seams, and it’s enough to make almost everyone back off, but Hotch is still concerned and Derek is still confused, and he can feel himself drifting further away from the team each day, as though his rope tying him to the others has been cut, and now the current is having its way with him.

Nothing much changes. He continues in his hurt and lonely quietude, and Derek continues to ask what’s wrong, sighing sadly when he gets nothing out of him, and they exist in tandem.

It had always felt — ever since the beginning of their relationship — as though their relationship was a salsa dance. They were tangled in one another’s lives, both physically and emotionally, and they existed in this relaxed kind of ease that Spencer’s only ever seen before in long-term relationships. They’d fallen into a lucky, easy kind of love, and it was never as much work as everyone had promised him a relationship would be.

They’ve been together for four years, and their worst fight was over whether the cheese grater went in the cupboard next to the sink or above it. (Granted, it had spiraled into some other disagreements that came along with cohabitation, but. Still.)

Spencer knows he’s introducing a dynamic they’re unused to, and he hates it. Guilt plagues him, mingling with his shame and sadness until he’s drowning under the weight of it, no way to claw himself to the surface to take a breath.

They exist on parallel lines: next to one another; yet never crossing over. Their relationship is no longer a salsa dance.

The next off-day they have, Derek can’t get out the door fast enough. “I’m off to visit Erin,” he tells Spencer, and it still makes him irrationally angry that he’s stopped calling her Strauss and now refers to her like a friend.

Is it better that Strauss is now Derek’s friend? Him helping someone he actually cares about makes him not caring about Spencer all those years again slightly less of a gut-punch, he supposes. But the fact that Derek and Strauss of all people are becoming closer while he and Spencer drift apart hurts in a way he can’t even begin to explain.

This time, he spends the entire day crying. Every time the tears slow down and he catches his breath, another wave of grief and pain and anxiety and shame and jealousy crashes over him, and all of a sudden he can’t breathe again. It’s an exhausting cycle, and by the early afternoon his stomach muscles are aching and his ribs feel bruised.

It’s also the first day he gets a craving.

He’s an addict, right, he’s had periods of intermittent cravings over the years, that’s completely normal. Sometimes, even thinking about it in passing is enough for the itch to come back, to whisper the number of his old dealer in his ear, to recall in both his physical and mental memory the feeling that came with each press of the syringe.

This is the most intense one since his withdrawal immediately after waking up in hospital following his accidental overdose in his parking garage. It’s so intense that it scares him.

Crying harder than he thought it possible, he fumbles for his phone on the nightstand and — fighting the temptation to type in the digits of his dealer — he dials the number he’s had memorised since he was nineteen. He can’t speak through his gut-wrenching sobs, but he knows the sound of him crying this hard will be enough, so he lies in bed and continues his pity party until he hears the front door swing open and the rapid steps through the hall.

Soon enough, Hotch is pulling him into his arms and he finally feels a little less alone.

Hotch lets him cry himself out, and only when his tears have dried up and the hiccups have subsided does he say anything besides the reassuring murmurs he’d spoken into Spencer’s ears as he cried.

“Spencer,” he says — somewhat desperately — “please. You have to tell me what’s going on. Let me help you, okay? Whatever it is, I’m here. I won’t let you suffer on your own anymore, I promise.”

Spencer doesn’t raise his head from its position buried in Hotch’s t-shirt, but he does finally say something. He doesn’t know what overrides the shame that’s kept him quiet — maybe it’s the exhaustion or the loneliness finally winning out — but whatever it is, he’s glad it does.

“I had a craving today,” he whispers, because it seems like a good place to start. “Haven’t been feeling good since, uh. Since… Strauss.”

It’s hopelessly phrased, but it’s the best way he can explain it and Hotch, being the miracle profiler and father figure of Spencer Reid, figures it out instantly.

He feels the way he slumps slightly, hears the tired, frustrated sigh, and knows he’s probably beating himself up for not figuring it out sooner.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I just… I couldn’t. I didn’t know how.”

Hotch shushes him. “You don’t need to apologise for that, Spencer, don’t be sorry. I’m the one who should be sorry for being so blind, and I am. I hate that you’ve been suffering like this and we’ve all been too stupid to realise why.”

“It still, it still hurts,” he says quietly, sadly, regretfully, “it still hurts that no one helped me until it was almost too late. But everyone dropped everything to help Strauss— I’m sorry, it’s so selfish, I shouldn’t be—”

“Hey, Spence,” Hotch interrupts him, caressing his arm gently. “It isn’t selfish. It’s human. And you’re right, we should have helped you sooner and it’s always been my greatest regret that we didn’t, and that because of that dereliction of duty, we almost lost you.”

“I’m not, I’m not trying to make you feel guilty or anything—”

“Spencer, I know that. But you need to stop feeling guilty for how you feel, alright? It makes complete sense that this is bringing up both the feelings of rejection and betrayal, and also cravings for the drug you were addicted to at the time. It’s so obvious that I don’t know how I didn’t see it earlier.”

Spencer nods, but he doesn’t say anything for a couple of minutes. “Derek’s been visiting Strauss on our days off,” he admits quietly. “I’ve barely seen him for almost a month now, and that— it isn’t helping.”

“I can understand that. Have you talked to him about any of this?” he asks, even though Spencer’s sure Hotch already knows the answer.

He shakes his head.

“I know it’s hard, Spence, I really do, but I think you need to talk to him. Obviously, it would’ve been better if both he and I had figured it out without you having to tell us, but clearly, he isn’t going to realise by himself. I know that as soon as you explain it, he’ll understand completely.”

Spencer sighs. Some part of him had known this was coming, he just didn’t know how it would come about. He wouldn’t have put money on Hotch being involved, but maybe he should have done. He always seems to come to Spencer’s rescue.

“He’ll probably be out for a while. He usually stays out for hours when he goes to visit her.”

“Well, how about I stay until he comes home, and then you can talk to him? How does that sound?”

Spencer looks up at him. “What about Jack?”

“He’s out with a friend and their family anyway,” Hotch reassures him, smiling as he runs a hand down his arm. “Now how about I make you some tea and we go and sit on the sofa?”

Spencer reluctantly agrees and moves from the safety of his bed to the comfort of his sofa, but he has to admit that the light streaming in from the big bay window and the feeling of sitting up makes him feel just a little better straight away. Once Hotch is back and placing a cup of chamomile tea into his hands, he doesn’t feel quite so much like he’s going to burst into tears at any moment.

“I have to ask, Spencer,” Hotch says carefully, “did you buy any dilaudid? Or attempt to contact your dealer?”

“Thought about it,” he admits, not meeting Hotch’s concerned eyes, “but I didn’t.”

Hotch relaxes. “Good. I’m proud of you, you know.”

Spencer looks at him with a hesitant smile that only grows when Hotch beams back.

They spend the afternoon watching nature documentaries — and Spencer admittedly dozes through a lot of them, exhausted from the burden of carrying so much pain around and the physical exertion of crying so hard — until Derek comes home at just gone five thirty.

“Hotch?” he asks, confused, and his voice wakes Spencer up from one of his unintentional naps.

He scrambles to sit upright, going inexplicably red at the thought of what he knows is coming. For some reason, he feels like he’s done something wrong and he’s about to be told off. He hates that this is what his relationship with Derek has come to.

“Hi, Derek,” Hotch says, squeezing Spencer’s ankle and getting up from the sofa. “Spencer asked me to come over earlier” — which is a bit of a stretch when really Spencer sobbed into the phone until Hotch showed up — “and I was just keeping him company until you came home.”

Derek’s eyebrows only furrow further, looking between them, confused. “Right.”

“Spencer,” Hotch says, meeting his eyes, “are you okay if I go now? You’ll tell Derek what we talked about?”

Immediately, Spencer blushes red as Derek’s scrutinising eyes fixate on him, but he nods and smiles weakly at Hotch, following him with his eyes as he lets himself out, if just to avoid meeting Derek’s.

“Pretty boy?” Derek says cautiously, slowly taking off his jacket and approaching the sofa like Spencer’s a wild animal liable to be spooked away at any given moment. He supposes it’s probably quite a good analogy, actually.

Spencer shifts nervously in his seat, moving his legs out of the way to give Derek more room to sit down on the sofa.

“You finally gonna tell me what’s been up with you these last few weeks?” Derek asks, and Spencer isn’t oblivious to the hope in his voice. “I’ve been worried about you, baby.”

Spencer nods and closes his eyes for a moment, taking a couple of deep breaths to compose himself. He’s told one person, and it went fine— it went well, actually. Derek is his life partner, his soulmate, and they tell each other everything. He just needs to start at the beginning. He needs to tell him all of the disclaimers, remind him that he’s not angry at him for doing the right thing or for being the compassionate person he is, he just needs to— He needs to focus, and he needs to tell the truth.

“I called Hotch earlier because I was scared of myself,” he says, finally opening his eyes and looking into Derek’s. “I was having some of the most intense cravings I’ve had since being sober, and I was seriously considering calling my dealer, but I managed to call Hotch instead, and we talked about how I’ve been feeling.”

“Baby, I’m so sorry I wasn’t here,” Derek says regretfully, his face melting into the very picture of apologetic as he scoots a bit closer on the sofa so he can grab Spencer’s legs and pull them over his lap.

“I know,” Spencer replies, ignoring for now that him not being here is why they have a problem in the first place. He moves on. “I’ve been… struggling… over the last month or so with feelings that I haven’t really known how to rationalise or explain, and when I finally did make sense of them, I felt that I couldn’t share them with anyone, which is why I’ve been so distant and private. And I’m sorry for that, by the way.”

Derek just smiles, caressing his bare ankle with one hand as he rests his other over his shin.

He pauses for a moment, trying to find the best way to word his thoughts, but before he can think about it too hard, the words come spilling out, unbidden. “I’ve found it hard to reconcile your attentiveness and willingness to throw everything at helping Strauss, and the way no-one helped me with my addiction back in 2007.”

Derek’s face instantly falls, and saying the words out loud brings all the emotions he’d managed to control back again in full force, and suddenly his face is crumpling, too. Derek surges forward, moving them both until he’s situated between the sofa cushions and Spencer, cuddling him as close as he can while Spencer cries into his chest.

“I’m so sorry, baby, I’m so sorry,” he whispers, voice breaking as he begins to cry as well. “I’m sorry I didn’t do anything then and I’m sorry I didn’t put two and two together to realise why you were struggling so much. I can’t believe I was so oblivious, Spence, oh God.”

They lie there for a long time, crying together as Derek runs his hands through Spencer’s hair and Spencer clings desperately to the fabric of Derek’s t-shirt.

“I was just feeling so distant from you because we weren’t spending as much time together, and I had no idea how to admit that I was feeling hurt about something that happened almost five years ago,” he continues when they’ve both calmed down again, and they’re ready to resume the conversation. “I guess I just felt… ashamed of both my feelings now and being jealous, which is so ridiculous, I had no idea how to tell anyone how I was feeling. And I’m so sorry that my lack of communication affected us so much.”

“Oh, baby,” Derek sighs, leaning in to press a kiss to Spencer’s lips. “You don’t need to be sorry. I’m sorry that I was hurting you when I should’ve known the effect my actions would have. This whole mess is on me for so many reasons.”

“Der, I don’t want you to feel guilty,” Spencer says insistently, urgently, looking at him imploringly. “You’ve apologised enough for what happened back then, and there’s no way we can change what happened. You were just being the same kind and compassionate person you always are when you were helping Strauss.” He reaches out and cups Derek’s face gently, hating the tells of guilt and self-loathing he can see all over it.

Derek sighs and moves Spencer’s hand to his lips so he can kiss his palm. “When I was sitting in that hospital room waiting for you to wake up,” he explains, “I made a promise to myself. I told myself that I would never let anyone down like that again. I was never going to stand back and watch anyone else I knew fall into the same trap you did. So when I realised Strauss had a drinking problem, all I saw was an opportunity to keep that promise.

“The only problem was that I was so wrapped up in doing the right thing in helping her that I wasn’t doing the right thing by you. I should’ve realised all the feelings, physical and emotional, that this would bring up for you, but I didn’t think. I’m so sorry, baby boy, I really am.”

Spencer cuddles back into Derek, burying his face in the juncture between his neck and shoulder and relaxing into the reassuring scent of his person. “I know, Der. I forgive you.”

“How about we order in some Thai for dinner from your favourite restaurant and watch some Doctor Who?” Derek suggests after a couple of minutes of silence. “I think we’re long overdue for some quality time together.”

Spencer smiles at him, feeling so much of the heaviness that’s been weighing him down over the last few weeks lift that he feels almost like he’s floating. “I think that sounds like a plan.”

They set the living room up to be as cosy as possible, lighting the candles Penelope had made for them and using only their soft lamps to light the room, before piling the couch high with blankets and pillows until they’re cuddled together in a little nest.

The evening is spent eating their favourite food and watching their favourite season of Doctor Who, and while Spencer’s still hurting and they still have healing to do, this feels like a damn good start.

“I’m proud of you,” Spencer whispers to Derek late into the night, when they’re close to falling asleep in the comfort of their blanket pile.

Derek turns to him, looking confused. “What do you mean?”

“You made a mistake when you let things get bad with my addiction back in 2007,” Spencer explains, “and when you saw someone headed down the same path, you stopped at nothing to make sure you didn’t make that mistake again. If anything shows me how much you regret not doing anything sooner, it’s your devotion to Strauss’ recovery.”

Derek smiles at him, his eyes a little watery, and holds his chin gently as he leans in to kiss him. “I love you,” he murmurs. “I love you so much.”

Spencer kisses him again before cuddling back into his side. “I know you do, Derek. And I love you, too.”

And really, when it comes down to it, that’s enough.

Ahhh, this was the first fic in forever that actually felt fairly easy to write thank GOD. I loved this concept and writing that good, good angst was so much fun. Plus, we always love a happy ending in this house! Also, a reminder that how other people when you confront them with the way they hurt you or made you feel is not your responsibility.

taglist: @criminalmindsvibez @lesbiantodds @suburban--gothic @strippersenseii @takeyourleap-of-faith @negativefouriq @makaylajadewrites @iamrenstark @livrere-blue @hotchseyebrows @enbyspencer @reidology @transhanniballecter @spencerspecifics @bau-gremlin @hotchedyke @tobias-hankel @hotchscotchh @marsjareau @oliverbrnch @im-autistic @anxious-enby @kuolonsyoja @reidreids @ropoto @thosecriminalminds @wifeyprentiss @cmily @love-pyramus @notevanbuckley @thebipolarbisexualnerd (add yourself to my taglist here!)

#my writing #moreid #derek morgan #spencer reid #criminal minds #cm #moreid fic #moreid fanfic #moreid fanfiction #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #derek morgan/spencer reid #derek morgan x spencer reid #spencer reid/derek morgan #spencer reid x derek morgan #tw past drug use #tw referenced drug use #tw substances #tw alcoholism

[silverrstarrr]

extra hand

Update note: Happy spring break loves! Here's a smut I never finished but I still wanted to post it. I'll be taking break from writing eren. I recently started simping for geto Suguru from jjk so😩

Okay, so this is my first smut. I'm just experimenting and playing around with things. I WOULD LOVE CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM, but don't bash me bc I'm a little sensitive and then go off 🥲. Song? Um, don't get mad at me but killshot by Magdalena b. slowed n reverb and no guidance remix, slowed n reverb.😕🦴

Pairings: erenxf!reader, smut!

Warnings: fingering, swearing, idk??

"Fuck!"

You tossed your phone onto the nearby bed in the spawn of annoyance, watching the mobile device bounce up a few times, then settling down into the soft comforter. Why were you irritated? It was because he hasn't texted. Eren Yeager haven't texted you back.

Your relationship with eren was a toxic one. You weren't the type to romanticize or fetishize "toxicness" but here you are, putting yourself in one.

Eren was your boyfriend, well, ex-boyfriend? The both of you used to talk, met at a dumb frat boy party. This should have raised red flags immediately but you guessed the alcohol was to blame for it.

You guys had a small heated makeout session in one of the corners, away from the crowd. Sadly your friend was vomiting all over the place and had to take your leave.

Slowly you started seeing each other on campus and exchanged numbers. He'd always flirt with you, crack small jokes and was a good listener.

Sometimes he made small gestures and teasing comments that made the tension between you two, very heavy.

You started talking to him more than usual. you were sure eren only gave you his number to call you anytime he was in the mood, which happened often. It was obvious he's been with other women before cause, phew, he knew how to put it down.

Despite being fuck buddies, he was always down to chat and talk about things. You adored everything about him. How unkempt his hair was, the way he'll always ask how you were feeling and was willing to help you–his beautiful jade eyes.

Anytime you were upset with him, he always knew how to catch your attention again. From all this, you caught feelings. Real bad. But eren didn't feel the same, well so you thought.

Eren was walking around campus with another girl, arm slung around her shoulder, him whispering sweet nothings in her ears as you watched her face get red and started laughing. He even took you on small dates to restaurants and hanged out at his dorm.

You stood there dumbfounded. He played you. You guys were never a thing, you didn't understand why you thought you'll be different, he's a fuck boy after all.

He hit you up later that night, wanting to have a sesh in his car. Your emotions were spilled all over the place. you messaged him back questioning about the girl he was with. You sounded so desperate and you hated it.

From the way you were texting he knew you've caught feelings and automatically cut you off.

You were shocked, you hoped for him to just clear things up and tell you those overly used line: "she doesn't mean anything". You know, what most guys tell their girlfriends after being caught cheating.

But that was 4 months ago. He recently got in touch with you two week ago. How dare he just try to slide back into your life as if nothing happened? you were beyond pissed but you still messaged him back anyways. What the fuck? You're just going to get hurt all over again. You guys were chatting for a good week and decided to meet at his dorm.

"Hey y/n, long time no see, huh." He said

you clicked your tongue. "So you just ghost girls out of nowhere and hit them back up whenever you feel like it?" you were absolutely irritated, you wanted to punch his stupid face.

Eren rolled his eyes and let out a tiresome sigh. "It's whatever, get over it. I messaged you back, correct? You should be happy."

He was high. You could already tell by the way he smelled and the reason why he texted you out of the blue.

"Fuck you, Eren." You stormed out of there with your blood rushing. You were so angry but wanted to cry so much. "Whatever"? Was he serious?

You immediately called an uber and went home.

You rented out an apartment with one of your friends from high school. They were out most of the time so you never really saw them.

Automatically, eren was blowing up your phone with text messages. You didn't answer them, and kept him on delivered.

Which didn't last long because early on, on Tuesday, you messaged him back.

He was obviously upset you left him up and dry for a week but got over it.

Now, you're here. Waiting for his reply once again, your last text message was three days ago. It was currently Saturday night, 6:48 pm.

He hasn't responded since Wednesday. Was he going to ghost you again? Maybe he found another girl to mess with? bzzt bzzt You instantly whipped your head back, and stared at your phone's now lightened screen. You had a notification,

From eren.

Unlocking your phone, you checked what he sent.

"Can you come over?"

"pls?"

You read, then reread, then read again. He wanted you to come over? he's doing it again. He's fucking doing it again. He responds three nights later, what the fuck.

You didn't respond at first. Just staring at the open conversations.

You guessed eren saw that you read his text and three dots appeared on the lower left, he was typing.

"y/n, I know I fucked up but please can you respond at least?"

Your thumbs swiped against the keyboard.

"say what? what do I owe you a response for?" You sat down on your bed as the blue bubble sent.

"my phone got messed up, I dropped in it in the rain on my way back from practice. It cracked really bad"

You studied the screen not knowing what to say. You couldn't tell if he was lying or if it was true. But it did rain on Tuesday, so his story wasn't completely untruthful.

"I'll be over in 10"

That's it, you gave in to him. You're just setting yourself up again for another heartbreak.

You decided to prepare yourself. This was going to be a long night

—

You had your jacket on as you stepped out the door. It was still winter, luckily the piled up snow died down.

You quickly jogged to your uber and entered inside. the driver took off shortly after you came in.

The drive was pretty short, he was only ten minutes away. you wished it was longer, so you could lecture yourself for the decision you made.

You hoped out the car and went inside the boys dormitory. His dorm was on the left wing, so you proceed towards that direction.

Eren shared a dorm with Armin, you hoped he was there just in case a heated argument happened because you had a feelings one would come.

Arriving at the hall where all the rooms were at, you walked down the hall checking the numbers, so you'll know which one was his.

You despise that you remembered it as you stood in front of his door.

You pulled out your phone to shoot him a quick "here" to notify your arrival.

Not too long after, a tall brunette opened the door, he immediately grabbed your wrist and pulled you inside.

The room was dim and dark, other than the dark purple LD lights.

You felt your back make contact with the door behind you, he snaked his free hand around your waist. He pressed his lips against yours, you could feel his impatience as he tilted his head slightly to the side to deepen the kiss.

He pulled away ever so slight and licked the bottom of your lip asking for entrance, so intoxicated by his lust you simply obeyed and parted your mouth slightly. His warm tongue slipping in exploring every inch of your mouth.

You ran your other hand over his black t-shirt trailing up to his neck soon afterwards interlocking your fingers in his brown locks. Although the kiss felt rushed it still made you melt, and gave a small throb down in your area. You slightly tugged on his hair earning you a groan into the heated kiss.

The butterfly’s in your stomach were going on a rampage and your heart was beating out of your chest. He slightly pulled away from the kiss, a string of saliva connecting your mouths together.

"...eren," you moaned slightly.

He was looking down at you, you were so stunning beneath him—face already flustered from one kiss. he wanted to here his name once more.

traveling down to your neck, he started showering it with wet kisses, and continued traveling down. He reached your collarbone and gave it a small bite, as the skin turned red, your grip in hair grew tighter. You were a mess, already ready feeling slick in between your legs as you rubbed them together, desperate for any sort of friction.

eren slid his hand upwards from your waist to your shirt, his soft hands grazed your bare skin—rubbing slowly, sending shivers down your spine.

you released another breathy moan as he continued at your neck. Hearing you moan was a blessing to him, he couldn't stop thinking about you ever since your last encounter.

He wanted to defile you, run his hands all over your body, touching placing only he knew he had access to—having your fingers intertwined in his long locks as he heard dumb founded mewls, begging him to stop teasing and give you what you wanted.

He pulled himself away from your neck, leaving you stunned at his sudden stop.

" why'd you st-" you were cut off by the jerk at your arm once again. He was taking you to his room as you trailed behind him, not saying a word.

Reaching his room, he pulled you inside, his lips crashed against yours once more, he kicked the door with his foot and closed it, locking the knob.

Your mind was fuzzy, you felt so heated and felt your pussy clench against nothing. You wanted him so bad, his impatience was rubbing off of you. But you couldn't bring yourself to tear away from his mouth, his lips felt so soft against your own. It made you feel wanted by him again, as if he never ghosted you and needed you this whole time.

Your back touched the soft mattress of his bed as he climbed on top of you, you were going haywire. you gave in to him with no obligation whatsoever and was dominanted in response. you can't say you didn't expect this from the moment he decided to text you.

His hands slithered up your shirt, pushing it up, grabing a hold of your breast through the bra. you smiled at his eagerness to touch you, how long has he been like this? using your elbows to support you, you raised your upper back from the bed as his other hand came around and unhooked your bra.

The butterflies in your stomach wouldn't stop, the warmth from his body felt attonishing against your own. sloppy kisses smothered across your lips, each break releasing a moan from one another, hearing throughout the room.

You laid back down as his hand large hands began fondling with your breast, your nipples were already hard from all the foreplay.

Eren hips started to grind against your pelvis,

"Fuck..." he moaned out, his face was already red, blushing like a dumb teenage virgin.

You break the kiss and sat up to remove your shirt, eren gave you space to do so–moving back a little. You tossed it on the floor, on the otherside of the bed, along with your bra, which was sitting next to you since eren took it off. You knocked you shoes off as well.

You immediately leaned towards eren wrapping your arms around his neck, lips already on his own, making him fall towards your direction—giving you a chance to wrap your legs around his waist. Your back made contact with the mattress once again and you moved your hips, grinding your heated core against his crotch.

"Dammit y/n...fuck, I can't stand this...when you do this to me."

Eren followed the same action as you. Releasing small moans and you both continued to dry hump one another.

You tugged at his shirt, wanting him to take it off. You didn't like it when you were the only bare and he knew this, a small chuckled erupted from his throat as he got on his knees–hands grasping the hem of the shirt, tugging it over his head.

You laid there in awe, he still kept his shape after all these months. You guessed those practices were really paying off. Your hand trailed up his torso, feeling his sculpture chest beneath your palm. His skin was so soft, you drifted your hand back down, passing over his abs.

"You like what you see?" he said smirking down at you.

"Shut up." you spat out.

Eren moved back down to your chest and took a hold of your breast, bringing his mouth to your nipple–while his other hand supported his weight. He gave it a long lick eyes flickering up at you, checking your reaction. His mouth was warm, his heavy breath touching your skin while he decided to play with your nipple.

You released small grunts as his red tongue swirled around your perked bud, closing his mouth then releasing it—leaving kisses and bite marks all around your breast. You were prepared for all the purplish marks you'll in the morning, you prayed you had your ointment at home.

Using his other hand, he slid his hand down your stomach, earning another moan from you. His touch felt so ethereal, this was what your body was craving for all these months.

His hand slid past your joggings, making contact with your cotton underwear. He dipped his fingers between your lips, gathering the slick that was leaking from your heat. His fingers brushed against your clit, as you moaned his name,

"eren—hnng, stop teasing—"

His only response was a smirk as he released his lips from your nipple with a wet pop sound.

"look how wet you are for me, hm? what happened to that attitude that you're so keen of?" his index finger continued to rub against your entrance, your clit getting some friction in the process. His middle finger plunge into your hole, sliding is easily from the lubrication of your wetness as he began pumping his finger in a steady motion, each stroke going deeper and deeper, stretching you out.

"nnghh—fuck eren..." your voice pitched at a higher tone for a moment.

you haven't felt like this is a while, his long digit fitted perfectly into your hole.

"hm? look how tight you pussy has gotten without me, can't wait to feel you around me."

Eren pulled his finger out, using his index to spread open your lips, then gathered some more slick as both fingers went inside.

He was prepping you up for his length, since you haven't had sex in a while. His fingers started to scissor you, both spreading out in your core—stretching you out even more.

Your hand immediately went for his hair and tugged at it with a grunt, eren moaned at your aggressiveness with his brunette locks.

"s-stop...mfhh." another soft mewl escaped your lips.

Eren pulled out his fingers and rested them in your panties.

"Stop?" He knew what you meant, he always does. his eyebrow turned to an arch, waiting an answer.

"m'didn't mean for you...to," you couldn't form a sentence, your mind was so hazy from the heated atmosphere between you two. you wanted his touch again, you hated the feeling of you clenching around nothing.

eren gave your chest a few pecks, then one at your neck close to your jaw.

"use your words, y/n." man, he was enjoying this too well. He missed this part of you so bad, having you a complete mess under his touch.

"I want you inside of me." The last word was spoken in a lower tone, you were embarrassed. Never knew you'll hear those words come from your mouth again.

"Good girl." He bought his fingers up to his mouth as he sucked on them, swirlying his pink tongue around his digits while directly making eye contact with you. Releasing them with another wet pop, he start to work on his joggers.

Moving off of you, he swing his legs to the edge of bed, pullng down his gray sweats as it hits the floor–slides it across the floor. He did the same with his boxers.

You did the same, taking off your bottoms along with your damp panties, placing it over with your other clothing.

erens cock slapped against his abdominal, precum already dripping from the slit of head.

He gave himself a few strokes, groaning loudly as he shifted back to your direction. Settling between your legs, he uses his hand to trace his pink tip between your folds, slipping between your lips constantly—gathering lubrication.

"m'mfgh...stop teasing eren," your chest was heavy with anticipation, you wanted him inside you so bad. His free rest on your bended knee, his fingers drawing circles.

"shhh, y/n—I know." He coos.

Finally, he dipped his cock into your seeping hole as your velvety walls draw him in–not giving him a chance to adjust from tight you were. You both moan in unison, feeling contentment, getting what you guys wanted you at last.

" hnng, you're so tight...shit," erens eye closed shut while he pushed the rest of his length inside you. Even after stretching you out with his fingers, you were still tight and eren enjoyed every second of it.

Once he was in all the way, his cock was a snug fit—he waited for you to adjust so he could move.

Your chest now heaving up and down, you give a little nod—signaling it was okay to move. Drawing his hips back, he slid out of your core completely and immediately thrusted forward entering back to your wet core.

Eren began thrusting into you at a steady pace as his both of his hands grabbed your legs, resting them behind your knee.

You knew it'll be a long night.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

update note: HAHAHA IM BACK GUYS MORE FANFICS. I'm finally on spring break 😭

#x reader #anime #attack on titan #eren headcanons #eren x reader #eren yeager #eren yeager x reader #aot x black reader #eren jeager x reader #eren jeager #eren jeager headcanons #armin x black reader #eren aot #eren yeager smut

[skiesofthesketchy]

Stood Up {1}

Pairing: JJ Maybank x reader

Summary: You have a date with your friend that you’ve liked forever, but he never shows up.

Note: Heyyyyy Please read the warnings before proceeding. This is one of the darker things I’ve ever written, and it might trigger some people so please be careful. I’m usually a fluff writer but I’ve been feeling... ya know, down lately so this is what I made. I’m working on the second part to Unsend still, but haven’t been in the mood lately so sorry it’s taking so long!

Let me know what you think! :)

Word Count: 6.5k

Stood Up: {Part 2} / { Part 3}

WARNINGS: Violence and abuse! sexual violence! trauma! swearing, angst

WARNINGS: Violence and abuse! sexual violence! trauma! swearing, angst

***

Y/N’s P.O.V.

10:00 PM

I pulled my sweater tighter against me when I felt a small burst of wind, the chill making goosebumps surface on my bare legs. I looked left and right down the black street, but nobody was around. It was quiet, almost silent besides dried leaves scraping against the pavement, and the only light was the orange glow from the street lamps and the red neon sign above my head casting onto the empty street. It was a nice night, even with the cool breeze, but I could feel my nerves kicking in.

I tried to remain optimistic though. Maybe he’s just running late... I pulled out my phone again to see if JJ had texted me back, but he hadn’t.

On my way! See in you 20 :)

I sighed, looking at the last text I sent him. I only sent it hoping to remind him that we had plans tonight in case he forgot. He always forgets. 

‘He’s just a forgetful person,’ I tell myself for what feels like the thousandth time. It’s usually that phrase that makes me feel better, or ‘He’s got a lot going on.’ I never make it a big deal when he misses our plans, even though it feels like a small piece of my heart breaks off and dies every time it happens. 

‘This time is different though,’ I told myself. It was just yesterday that I mentioned the movie theater was showing a bunch of Quentin Tarantino films this week. I tried to act like it wasn’t a big deal, just a fun thing me and my friends could all do together, but I was truly very excited about it and really hoped they’d be down. 

“Are they showing Kill Bill?” JJ asked with a smile. The other pogues didn’t seem interested but I was happy that JJ was. 

“Yeah. Tomorrow night actually,” I shrugged.

“We should go.”

I smiled softly at him. “Sure, if you want to.”

He chuckled, blue eyes lighting up as he poked my cheek. I knew he could see right past my nonchalant demeanor. “That’s your favorite movie ever. Of course I want to go see it with you! My treat.”

I ignored the fluttering in my belly, but couldn’t hide my smile. He remembers my favorite movie and wants to watch it with me. “You don’t have to pay for me,” I shook my head with a laugh. I didn’t expect him to, but the fact that he offered made my chest warm. JJ doesn’t have much money to begin with, and with what he does have, he usually spends on weed and beer, necessities in his daily life.

“No, no,” he tsked, bringing me into a hug. My giddy grin was thankfully hidden in his chest. Being this close to him always makes me feel lighter than air, warmer than the summer breeze. “You’re my girl. Let me take you out,” he finished, chuckling into my hair. 

I felt heat rise to my cheeks, like I always did when he called me his girl. I nodded in agreement once I pulled away from his embrace. “Ten o’clock tomorrow, okay?”

“I’ll be there,” he replied, saluting me with a wink before turning to join the conversation the rest of the pogues were engaged in, leaving me to internally gush about going on a date with the boy I’ve liked since forever. 

Maybe it wasn’t a date, or maybe it was. I didn’t really know, but I didn’t care as long as I got to spend time with JJ. It really did feel like this time was different. My thoughts swirled, wondering if he likes me back. Wanting to take me to a movie makes it sound like he likes me, right?

Date or not, I wanted to look nice, so I spent more time getting ready than I normally did. I experimented with some light makeup, trying to make it subtle but still pretty. I left my hair down after making it look somewhat decent, something I hardly ever do because my go-to is always putting it up. I even picked out a dress to wear but made sure to choose one that JJ had seen me in plenty of times. I didn’t want to look like I was trying too hard, but still hoped he would notice my appearance and think I looked pretty. 

10:10 PM

The movie started ten minutes ago, and still no word from JJ. I glanced down at my shoes and hugged myself tighter. ‘Maybe he did forget... again.’ I didn’t want to believe it, giving JJ the benefit of the doubt like I always did. But he still wasn’t here.

Yo are you coming? I sent another text.

I was really excited about tonight, not just because I’d be seeing one of my favorite movies in the theaters as if it was premiering for the first time. Now I just feel... heavy. Like I’m carrying the weight of the reality I should’ve realized a long time ago. If I was important to him, he would remember our plans.

My frown deepened. That’s what it comes down to, right? If he actually cared about me, he would be here, or at least tell me he’s not going to make it. Constantly forgetting our plans is a huge sign that he doesn’t like me the way I like him, that I don’t matter to him enough to follow through. It’s a sign I’ve been ignoring even though it’s been there the whole time, blaringly obvious and all too painful. 

No. JJ does care about me, even if it’s just as a friend. He’ll be here. He told me he would be.

10:20 PM

Spinning around and looking at the movie theater entrance, I thought about going inside and watching the movie anyway, but I suddenly wasn’t up for it anymore. This sick feeling in my gut was all I could think about. 

Of course JJ doesn’t like me. Why did I get my hopes up so high when all he’s ever done is not show up? It hurts. It feels like something crawled up inside of me and slashed its claws at my dumb, naive heart. Its terrifying and hoarse voice whispering in my ear, “What did you expect?”

Perhaps this is my fault; letting myself fall for someone that doesn’t feel the same. JJ Maybank: one of my closest friends, the biggest player on the whole damn island, and the most emotionally unavailable boy I’ve ever met. Of course I had to fall for him. I’m a fucking idiot. 

I slumped my shoulders, feeling defeated and tired. It’s like I was tossed to the side without a second thought, much like the trash lining the curb. My throat tightened with the emotions threatening to pour out in sobs, but I held them back. It’s not his fault. I’m the one with these stupid feelings, waiting around for him to feel them too, but he doesn’t. 

10:30 PM

I checked my phone one last time, still nothing. With a deep sigh, I started walking towards the direction of my house. I focused my attention on my sandals hitting the sidewalk, each step feeling like another crack in my heart. 

‘You’re fine,’ I told myself. ‘Don’t cry. You’re fine.’

But I wasn’t, and I felt the stubborn tears brim my eyes. I turned the corner and this street was much darker, the street lights dim and far apart. The sound of someone else’s footsteps pricked my ears, and I kept my head down to hide my frustration and the sadness running down my cheeks. I wanted the footsteps to belong to JJ, finally showing up but just a bit late. I knew better though, and didn’t bother looking up. 

“Well, look who it is. A little pougie.” I halted in my tracks, my eyes flicking up to find his cold ones, and I shot him a glare. As if I needed something to make my night even worse. Fucking Rafe.

“Not even gonna say hello?” he asked. I kept my posture stiff and my stare hard, trying to act tough even though I was most certainly in a vulnerable state.

“What are you doing here, Rafe?” Rafe was predictable in the way that he lived to torture me and my friends. That’s the only reason he’d ever be caught dead in The Cut.

He stopped right in front of me, his tall frame dark and intimidating. Even under the blanket of night I could see his eyes were bloodshot and a sickening smirk lined his lips. He ignored my question as his eyes dragged up and down my body, making my stomach twist and skin crawl. “Where’s the rest of your dirty crew?” he spat.

“You’re lucky they’re not here.” I kept my tone steady, but I could feel my hands start to shake and an uneasy feeling settled inside of me. I need to get out of here. 

With hands stuffed in his pockets, he leisurely walked around me, eyes still glued to my bare legs. “You look pretty,” he whispered. “Were you on a date?” 

“No.”

“Then why are you all dressed up, darlin’?” His gaze met mine again when I spun around to face him, and with the way his features slightly softened, he probably noticed that I had been crying. “Oh. You were stood up, huh?”

Is it that obvious? “No,” I snapped. 

He chuckled darkly, stepping even closer to me, and I took a step back. “His loss.” Then he just stood there staring at me while I was lost in a sea of confusion. Is he trying to be nice?

“Well. It’s been not so nice talking to you. I’m going home now.” I turned around to escape this unpleasant conversation, but I was spun back around with the man’s grip on my arm. 

“Don’t leave. I’m not done talking to you.” I felt fear creep under my skin as I looked up at his face again, hardly able to make out anything but his eyes. He wasn’t asking, he was demanding. 

“Leave me alone.” I tried to snatch my arm out of his grasp, but he pushed me into the brick wall of the building we were in front of. 

The sudden movement caused me to stumble and twist my ankle. “Ow! Rafe, what the fuck!” I felt the pain shoot up my leg, but couldn’t focus on it for long. Rafe’s menacing features had panic surging through my veins as he came closer.

I pressed my back into the hard wall trying to separate myself as much as I could from the man towering over me. “You’ve had a rough night. Let me make you feel better,” he said. He stepped into me, his chest pressing against mine as he looked down at me.

“Get the fuck off of me,” I choked out. 

His wicked laugh fanned over my face and I felt angry tears fall. “Come on, little poguie. At least I actually want you.” His words seemed to drive a knife into my chest. JJ doesn’t want me, but I don’t have time to think about that right now. I can hardly think of anything right now. 

My palms rose to his chest, but he caught my wrists in his hands, keeping me from shoving him off. He laughed again, and the realization that Rafe isn’t sober washed over me like a tidal wave. What have I gotten myself into? “Let me go!” I screamed.

He shut me up by forcing his mouth onto mine. I screamed against his lips but he pressed into me harder. I started thrashing my body under the weight of his, but his hold became tighter. He brutally clutched both of my wrists into one of his large hands while the other came up to slap over my mouth, cutting off my cries.

“Just let it happen, darlin. Enjoy it,” he whispered into my ear. Hot tears ran down my face as I felt his lips on my neck. He sucked harshly on my skin as I squirmed, trying desperately to escape, but I couldn’t. Even if I couldn’t, I would die trying.

His mouth attacked my throat while I struggled between him and the wall. With the adrenaline pumping through my body, I used all of my strength and pushed him as hard as I possibly could. With the few inches I created between us, I picked my leg up and stomped my heel into his foot. 

I prepared to bolt with the time I had bought myself, but a second later he was landing a ruthless slap to my face. I registered the burning pain as he pinned me to the wall with his body again. “Oh, now you’re really gonna get it, pogue.” His sudden anger shook me to my core, his sick laugh echoing in my ears like a fire alarm. 

His hand landed on my thigh and dragged along my skin, pushing my dress up higher and higher as I felt the screams get caught in my throat. I dug my nails into his arms but he wasn’t bothered. He kissed me again and I took his bottom lip between my teeth, biting down hard until I tasted blood.

He yanked his head back, face twisting in rage. Even with his violating hands still searing into my skin, I brought my knee up into his crotch, and he yelled in pain. I didn’t waste any time and took off running, but I was yanked back by my hair. 

“Fucking bitch!” My head throbbed as I crashed to the ground, feeling my elbows scrape the pavement. I was seeing stars as I felt Rafe’s weight drop on top of me, his form straddling me. I threw my fists wildly into his stomach and chest, desperately trying anything to escape him, but I knew my efforts were becoming futile. His ring-clad fist connected with my cheekbone and a sob crawled its way up my throat.

“Stop!” I screamed. His hand suddenly grabbed my throat, cutting off my cries once again. I clawed at his skin to get him to stop, but he only increased the pressure on my esophagus until I couldn’t breathe, and I squeezed my eyes shut. My world was spinning and my terror didn’t let me register the pain anymore, only the horrendous realization of what’s happening to me taking over my thoughts. 

After what felt like minutes but was only a few seconds, I felt his breath fan over my face from where he hovered over me. “You’re not fucking worth the trouble.” He released my neck and I felt him get off of me, but I dared not open my eyes. I was too scared of what might happen. It surely became known when I felt a sharp kick to my stomach. I whimpered, then he landed another kick to my side. “Nobody wants you now! Nobody will ever want you! You’re just a dirty little pogue,” he seethed. 

“Fucking bitch,” he spat again, and I heard his heavy footsteps as he stormed off, leaving me on the ground in pieces. 

11:00 PM

I finally sat up, finding the strength to put myself together again, but was pulled into a coughing fit, my throat burning. I wish I could say I was numb, but I was brutally aware of the torment my body has been through, of the emotional trauma I’d have to live with. 

I carefully stood to my feet but folded in half with arms wrapped around my stomach, clutching myself in pain. Everything hurts. I forced myself to straighten, holding back the tears. I felt broken in every way possible, but I willed myself to figure out how to get help.

I picked up my bag that had been tossed to the ground and rummaged through it for my cell phone. With a heavy heart, I called the one person that I needed more than anyone.

But of course, he didn’t answer. More tears were shed, even though it felt like I couldn’t possibly cry anymore. “Answer, goddammit,” I sobbed. I called again. “Please, JJ. Please. I need you.” Again, the call went to voicemail. 

I let out a wail of anguish. Even with nasty bruises already forming on my skin, the loud shatter of my heart is what hurt the most. He’s never here. Even when I need him. 

I didn’t even want to call anyone else. My ankle, my face, my stomach, my throat. Even though I was shaking in pain, I wanted to wallow in my heartbreak alone, so I slowly started walking again, and limped all the way home. 

***

JJ’s P.O.V.

“How was the movie last night?”

I stretched my arms over my head with a yawn, barely registering what John B. asked. “Huh?”

He chuckled and sat next to me on the pullout couch in the living room where I slept. “You got back pretty late last night. I’m guessing you and Y/N had a good time?” Now I’m thinking it’s not just my sleep induced brain that’s making me so confused.

“What do you mean? I wasn’t with Y/N,” I groaned while rubbing my eyes, the sunlight seeping through the windows too bright and annoying.

“What do you mean, dude?” His eyebrows furrowed and his eyes suddenly flashed with anger. “You were supposed to take her to a movie last night.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” I grumbled, getting even more annoyed. He doesn’t have a right to be pissed at me, not when I have no idea what he’s even pissed about. It’s too fucking early for this shit. 

John B. stood up with a sharp laugh. “I can’t believe you forgot again, man. Seriously?”

I sat up, my anger matching his now. “You wanna tell me what this is about?” He shook his head before looking at me again, baffled. 

“Y/N? Kill Bill? You guys had a date planned.” 

I glared at him before realization finally hit me. I slapped my hand to my forehead. “Fuck. Was that supposed to be last night?”

He shook his head again. “You’re unbelievable, really.” I sighed. It was an honest mistake. At least I know she’ll forgive me. She always forgives me. 

“I’ll fix it. I’m sure she won’t be mad.” John B. rolled his eyes. “And it wasn’t a date, by the way.”

“Yeah? Did you tell her that?”

“Stop talking in riddles, man. What the hell do you mean? Of course she knows.” He hit me on the back of the head, reminding me of my headache, the dreaded hangover starting to take effect. “Hey! What was that for?”

“She likes you, idiot! No idea why, considering you’re just a dick that doesn’t bother to show up to the plans you guys make.”

“Is this why you’re yelling at me? She doesn’t like me, dude. Not like that,” I rolled my eyes. I could punch him for getting on my case over nothing. Y/N doesn’t like me, and missing plans has never been a big deal. I just want to deal with my hangover in peace.

“You don’t deserve her. And she doesn’t deserve your shit,” he said, walking away into the kitchen. 

“You’re getting mad over nothing. Fuck off,” I grunted, head in my hands. I need coffee and advil. His yelling is making my headache worse.

He sauntered back into the living room, throwing a bottle of painkillers at me, too forcefully if you ask me. “Just tell me, if you weren’t with Y/N, what did you do last night?”

I smirked, remembering the events that took place. “A hot blonde that I met at the boneyard,” my smirk widened. I expected some sort of congratulations from my best friend like usual, but I was met with a scoff and a water bottle being thrown at me.

“You’re a prick. You know that?” 

“And you’re an asshole. What do you want from me?”

“Whatever, dude. Let’s just hope Y/N forgives you this time,” he snapped, walking away and finally leaving me in much needed silence.

“She will!” I yelled after him, hearing his bedroom door slam shut.

I sighed before gulping down the painkillers for my headache. I grabbed my discarded shorts from yesterday on the floor and grabbed my phone out of the pocket. I had forgotten that I put it on Do Not Disturb mode after the hot blonde and I left the party. Girls like it when you give them all of your attention, and aren’t distracted by calls and texts. 

I sighed again when I saw the text’s from Y/N.

9:36 PM: On my way! See you in 20 :)

10:10 PM: Yo are you coming? 

I sure feel like an asshole now. I hoped that she would’ve watched the movie without me anyway, but considering she called me twice at 11:00, she probably didn’t. I feel even worse now that I can see she waited over an hour for me. I typed out a text to her, but I wasn’t sure how to word this apology.

Hey, sorry I missed out last night. Got held up :)

I opted for keeping it nonchalant, not wanting to make this a big deal. I’ll make sure she knows how sorry I am the next time I see her. I’m not worried though. She’s the only one out of the pouges that doesn’t get mad at me when I do stupid shit, and she always forgives me. This time won’t be any different.

I laid back down with my arm covering my eyes, and I thought about what John B. said. Y/N doesn’t like me. She’d be stupid to like a fuck up like me. No, no, we’re just friends, and have been for years. I laughed at the thought. 

John B. was right about one thing, though. I definitely don’t deserve her. She’s way too good for me, especially when I’m not good to her.

***

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I stood in front of the mirror and peered at my naked body in the reflection, tears spilling down my cheeks for what felt like the millionth time. 

My eye was swollen and bruised, a cut on my cheek from Rafe’s ring. Large spots of sickly green and deep violet stained my torso. Dark rings around my wrists from his tight grip. A lighter purple ring wrapped around my neck from where Rafe’s hands had cut off my breathing. 

My hot tears dripped from my face and landed on my collarbone, bringing my attention to the hickeys littering the side of my neck too. I wanted to vomit. I could take the physical assault, but that’s not all this was. He violated me. Kissed me. Sucked on my neck while his hands traveled under my dress. 

Going to the police was a thought that bounced through my mind, but I couldn’t, not yet at least. I was much too unstable. I needed support if I was going to report it, but I still hadn’t told anyone what happened. I spent all of yesterday locked in my room, letting myself wallow in the pain.

JJ had texted me yesterday morning, apologizing for not showing up. A simple text wasn’t enough this time. He texted me again that afternoon.

I’m really sorry, Y/N. I’ll make it up to you. Please don’t be mad at me :(

I wasn’t mad. I was heartbroken, and didn’t bother responding to that text either. If he had shown up, I wouldn’t have been assaulted by Rafe. If he was there, we would have been happily watching my favorite movie, eating snacks and probably laughing at the gore displayed on the screen. If he was there, I wouldn’t have been crying in the dark streets alone, trying to wrap my head around the fact that I could have been raped. That I was almost raped.

The other pogues were trying to get a hold of me yesterday too, inviting me to their plans, but I never responded to anyone. I didn’t want to face them, or anyone for that matter. I didn’t even think I wanted to tell them what happened. It was all too much, and I didn’t want to relive it by telling anyone what Rafe had done to me. Not to mention it would add even more ammunition to the war between us and the kooks. 

I don’t feel any different today, still just wanting to curl up in bed and be alone for probably forever, but I don’t have that luxury today. My mom had left for work this morning before I even woke up, but she sent me a text asking me to run some errands. When I protested, she gave me the whole lecture on how I only ever spend time with the pogues and never help out. I didn’t have a choice. 

With one last glance in the mirror, I wiped the tears off my face and started getting dressed. I had to cover the bruises somehow, but makeup was not going to do the trick. Despite the hot temperature outside, I threw on a large sweatshirt over my sports bra. If I put the hood on, nobody would notice the disgusting marks lining my neck. I found a pair of my mom’s oversized sunglasses and they covered enough of my face to hide the cut on my cheek along with the black eye. I put on shorts and shoes and grabbed my bag before looking in the mirror one last time. Nobody would notice.

***

JJ’s P.O.V.

“Have you guys heard from Y/N?” Pope asked the group. “She hasn’t responded to any of my texts for like two days.” I frowned. At least I wasn’t the only one she was ignoring. I thought that she was probably still mad at me for bailing on our plans, but since she isn’t responding to Pope either, maybe she’s just busy with other things.

“No, I haven’t,” Kie answered. “Pretty weird, right?”

“Yeah, I wonder what’s up.” Pope’s face looked concerned suddenly, and I found my own expression matching his.

“Why don’t you ask JJ here,” John B. said, tone sharp with annoyance. Kie and Pope both whipped their heads towards me, eyebrows raised in question. I just scoffed, turning my attention back to waxing my board.

“What the hell did you do?” Pope asked. His accusing words pissed me off. Who said this was my fault?

“Nothing, okay? I just forgot we had plans, and--” I was cut off by John B.

“No surprise there,” he mumbled under his breath. 

Kiara sighed, her disappointed eyes casting down on me. “Seriously, JJ?”

“What? You guys can’t pin the blame on me! I got distracted, it wasn’t my fault.”

John B. scoffed and I wanted to punch him, much like yesterday morning. “Yeah, what was her name again? The distraction, I mean.” I rolled my eyes. 

“Come on, dude. Not cool,” Pope added with a shake of his head. With all three of them staring at me in dismay, it felt like my friends were attacking me. It’s also like they knew something I didn’t. Why is everything always my fault? 

“Stop turning it into a big deal. I just forgot, okay? I already apologized, so it’s fine.”

“So she forgave you?” JB asked, eyes narrowed like he already knew the answer.

“Well, no...” I let my head drop, looking down at the golden sand with all of our beach gear. “She never responded. But come on, this is Y/N we’re talking about! She never stays mad for long.” The words were meant to get my friends off my back, but I found myself taking comfort in them too. I had never really seen Y/N mad before, but if she actually was mad at me, I hoped she’d let me make it up to her and forgive me. I let myself believe that everything would be fine.

Nobody had anything else to say, only sighing and turning their gazes away from me. I felt the anger sitting in the pit of my stomach, but at least they dropped the subject. I’m more upset that this might actually be my fault. ‘Y/N isn’t the type to get mad easily,’ I reminded myself again. But she’s also not the type to ignore her friends. My mind drifted, wondering if she’s okay. 

“Eat up, boys,” Kie said, taking a stack of sandwiches out of the cooler she brought. We all sat down on our towels and started eating, but I couldn’t shake the thought of Y/N from my mind. Maybe I should text her again.

Hey. We’re all at the beach having lunch if you wanna join us. Even if you don’t, that’s ok. Just let me know you got this. We’re all worried about you. I’m worried about you...

I typed it out, but couldn’t bring myself to send it. If she really is ignoring us, I’m sure it’s for a good reason. Maybe it’s best to just give her space. She’ll reach out when she wants to. Whatever the reason, though, I really hope it’s not because of me. She’s the one person I can always count on to be on my side, and I don’t know what I’d do if I was the cause of her distancing from us.

“Oh, no way. It’s Y/N!” Pope interrupted my thoughts. My head turned to see where he was looking, and sure enough, it was my girl, passing through the boardwalk.

Pope was up on his feet and ran to her, calling over his shoulder that he’ll bring her over to us.

***

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“Y/N! Hey!” I stopped in my tracks when I heard my name being shouted, and I noticed Pope running up from behind me.

“Oh, hey Pope,” I said, trying to swallow down my nerves. I didn’t plan on running into my friends here. I didn’t need them finding out about what happened the other night, so I put on a half-hearted smile, trying to act normal, trying to act okay.

“Where the hell have you been?” he asked with a laugh, pulling me into a bear hug. I held back my wince from where he grabbed my sides, the bruises there shooting pain through my body. 

“Oh, ya know,” I gulped. “Just busy with my family.” I was glad that my sunglasses were dark enough so that he couldn’t see my eyes. If he could, he’d know I was lying within seconds. “Sorry I’ve been M.I.A.”

“It’s alright. Come on. We’re having lunch right now.” He grabbed my hand and started pulling me towards the beach, and the other pogues sitting together on the beach came into my focus. 

My eyes widened. “Uh, no, Pope. Sorry, but I have to go.” He stopped and gave me a weird look. “I... I’m running errands for my mom,” I shrugged, hoping he would let me go so that I don’t have to talk to the others, talk to JJ. 

“Just come say hi then. Everyone missed you!” He tugged my hand again, but I didn’t budge from where I planted my feet in the sand. 

“No, Pope. Really, I have to get going.” I didn’t have any other excuses up my sleeve, and I could feel my resolve coming undone. He gave me another weird look, probably wondering what the hell is going on with me. I wanted to tell him. I did, really. But I was not ready to talk about it. I didn’t need him or the others seeing what I looked like under this sweatshirt, or the black eye I was sporting under my glasses. I knew it would only cause more problems, more rage, and I couldn’t handle that right now. If anything, I just needed a hug.

“Is everything okay?” I looked down at my feet and sighed, trying to muster up the strength to lie to one of my best friends. When I looked back up to him, he had sent a look towards the pogues, and they all got up and started making their way over.

“Yes, Pope. I’m fine,” I breathed out a laugh, trying to cover up my panic. “I gotta go, now. Really.” I turned around to run away, but I was too late. The pogues had already crossed the beach and were surrounding me. 

“Y/N! Hey, we missed you!” Kie smiled, pulling me into a hug. Again, I had to hide my grimace from the pain that engulfed me so that my friends couldn’t see. I knew I couldn’t keep up this act for long, and I felt my heart sinking further into my chest.

“Yeah, I’m glad we ran into you,” John B. smiled with a nod in my direction. His expression was soft and kind, and it strangely made me feel like he understood that I wasn’t all the way okay.

“There’s my girl,” JJ’s voice rang through my ears. He looked relieved, and pulled me into his chest, squeezing me tight. This time, I wasn’t able to hold in the small noise that escaped past my lips. When he pulled away, he looked down at me with concern. “You okay?”

I pushed him away. “Yeah, I’m fine.” I couldn’t put on a half-assed smile this time. He’s the one causing my pain. The one that bailed on me. The one that wasn’t there when I needed him, leaving me alone and in broken pieces on that horrible night.

“Why are you wearing a sweatshirt?” Kie laughed. “It’s like one hundred degrees out here.” I just shrugged my shoulders, even though I was dying under the heavy material and the heat of the sun. I looked over my shoulder down the boardwalk, trying to avoid their worried glances, especially JJ’s. I could feel his eyes burning into me, and I couldn’t bear the weight of it for much longer.

“Yeah, what the hell? It’s burning hot out here,” Pope added, and pulled my hood off my head. 

“Pope, don’t,” I said. “I have to go.” I turned away after putting my hood back on and started walking, not even caring that they definitely know something’s wrong now. I just need to get away before I break down.

JJ was the one to catch up to me, leaving the pogues behind us and sharing worried looks. “Y/N, wait.” He grabbed my wrist, and I winced at the contact. “I just wanted to say that I’m so sorry for missing our plans. I got held up with a touron, and you know how it is. She was so hot, how could I not go home with her?” he laughed. Looking up at him, I felt my heart shatter all over again. Of course. He wasn’t with me because he was hooking up with some girl. This fucking hurts more than the punch Rafe landed to my face, and I felt anger swell inside of me.

“Come on, you’re not mad at me, are you?” He smiled, bringing his hands up to cradle my face. He was being his charming self like usual, which is precisely the reason I even fell for him in the first place. But his cute dimples and bright eyes aren’t going to fix anything this time. If anything, they’re just another stab to my chest.

He could sense I wasn’t giving into him. “I’ll make it up to you. Promise,” he pouted. My lips parted to speak, but no words tumbled out. He suddenly ripped my sunglasses from my face.

“JJ, don’t!” His face dropped at the sight of my bruised eye. The glasses fell to the sand when he stepped closer to me, eyes scanning my face. I pushed him back, but he swatted my hands away.

“Y/N?” His features quickly turned from worried to angry. “What the fuck happened?” I felt tears pricking my eyes, but I held them back as I tried to push him away again. He yanked my hood off my head and I knew he was piecing it all together now.

He reached for the bottom of my sweatshirt, and my hands grabbed at his to try and stop him. “Leave me alone,” I yelled, but he didn’t. Despite my attempts to stop him, he had grabbed the bottom of my sweatshirt and started pulling it up over my head. “JJ, stop!” I yelled again, but I couldn’t fight him back anymore because it hurt too much. He had taken it all the way off, leaving me just in my sports bra, my beaten body on full display.

A series of gasps surrounded me as the other pogues gathered around us again, shocked and bewildered expressions on their faces. I watched JJ scan my body. His eyes lingered on the bruises on my belly before flicking to my face again, and then my neck. With the way his eyebrows furrowed and he clenched his jaw, I could tell he was examining the hickeys on my skin. Tears ran freely down my cheeks, and the silence was deafening. 

“Oh, Y/N...” Kie whispered, eyes becoming glossy.

“What the fuck happened?!” JJ burst. His face was twisted in rage as his hands reached for me. I stepped away, but he grabbed my arms. “Who the fuck did this to you?!” I shook my head, trying to swallow the sob that was making its way up my throat. “Y/N, who the fuck was it?!”

“JJ! Lay off!” John B. spoke up. Kie had wrapped her arms around me, wanting to shield me from our angry friend. They could tell JJ wasn’t helping. 

John B. and Pope pulled at JJ’s arms to get him to step back, but he exploded even more. “YN! Tell me who did this to you!” Seeing his reddened face and furious eyes made my own burning anger swim to the surface.

“Stop yelling at her!” Pope told JJ, him and JB still holding the blonde away from me.

“No! I swear to god I’m going to kill ‘em. What the FUCK happened??”

“It wouldn’t have happened if you had bothered to SHOW UP!” I flared, my voice slicing through the chaos among the group. My heated gaze met JJ’s, and his entire face fell at my words, the rage washing away from his pools of blue and replaced with sadness.

Everything seemed to still at my outburst, even my tears. I watched as JJ crumbled beneath the weight of my words. As angry and heartbroken and hurt as I was, I wanted to see him this way. I wanted him to feel guilty. 

“I should’ve known you wouldn’t show up. I should've known you wouldn’t answer when I called you for help. Because you never do.” With every word I spat, I could see the effect they had on him. I kept my ruthless stare fixed on him. “Congrats on fucking some touron, though.” 

Everyone stayed silent as I picked up my sweatshirt and sunglasses from the sand. I glanced at JJ one last time before putting my glasses back on and turning around, leaving everyone behind me without another word. 

***

Read: Stood Up - Part 2

Masterlist

***

#outer banks #outer banks fic #obx #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #angst #jj maybank fic #jj x reader #rudy pankow #skiesofthesketchy #bricksatans #stood up

[kentos-filmcamera]

10 times, 1 occasion - Inumaki Toge

7. Festivities

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

A/N: hi hi! soo a few things: I would like to warn that this chapter shows a more feminine side of the reader so if anyone is uncomfy,, you've been warned. this chapter is just friendship and ships (there's nobara x maki and yuuji x megumi if you squint a bit) and it's 3.0k words (new record!!!!!) so buckle up and enjoy! also, next chapter is my favorite so far so go read it as soon as you're done with this.

Toge persisted you to rest for the past three days, as you were indicated. He sat by your bedside so you wouldn’t go anywhere, always keeping your injured ankle raised and your head comfortable, helping you to change bandages from time to time. Even then, you persisted to go as normal and continue with your duties.

“So hot…” Maki complained from your green couch, her glasses set aside as she covered her eyes from the sun with her forearm.

“I think you should stop hugging Kugisaki, then” Megumi suggested, the redhead laying on top of her, but he just received a death glare.

“Shake” Toge agreed with Maki, laying on top of Panda, who was snoring loudly. You, on the other hand, were on top of Yuuji’s shoulders, working on your damaged air conditioner.

“Gimme the flat screwdriver, ‘Gumi” You extended your hand, the other one holding one of the filters of the AC.

Your air conditioning system broke down once a year, and you knew it was because of the dirty filters. For some reason, everyone decided to hang out in your room, so extra help was usually given out to you. Maki and Nobara cleaned the filters, Panda and Toge first assisted you and then the help shifted to Megumi and Itadori. The last one was more than glad to have a pair of thighs wrapped around his neck, and his smile displayed so as Inumaki and Megumi both stared him down to oblivion. With the screwdriver now in your hand, you pressed each filter well to its original place. You closed the lid and Yuuji plopped you down on your bed, making you laugh.

You reached in to click on the air conditioner, it turned on normally and after a few minutes, it wasn’t leaking water anymore. “It’s fixed” You heard a collective sigh you let out yourself, feeling the cold air fill the room.

Itadori laid down on the floor by your mini-fridge and Megumi sat at the edge of your bed, next to your feet. You were all so overwhelmed by the heat, no one really wanted to speak, just take in the fake rise in temperature to calm down their sweating and corporal heat.

Just as you were falling into pure, calm bliss, you heard bass thumping from down the hall. You opened your eyes and raised your head towards the door, at the same time everyone else did, confused. Queue in Gojo with a boombox from the 90s, playing ‘Congratulations’ by Post Malone. There was now a collective groan in annoyance as he walked in and faced the bunch of sweaty teens.

“Good afternoon my amazing students!” There was another collective groan in response. No one didn’t even bother raising their heads once more to look at him, and Megumi just turned his face away slightly. Everyone was grumpy or simply not in the mood “I am here to give out great news! Everyone who has tried for first-grade sorcerer has been officially promoted! Congratulations!”

Suddenly, the aura of the room shifted. Everyone was upright, in a mix of shock and happiness. Nobara started screaming out in happiness with Maki, while you, Megumi, Gojo, and Itadori started jumping on your bed in a circle, holding hands. Inumaki was hugging Panda.

“Let’s throw a party! A fancy one!” Itadori suggested, and everyone cheered. Gojo seemed very fond of the idea, as he laughed.

“Dress code is suit and tie, I’ll see you all in the common dining room at 8! Now if you excuse me, I have a party to plan!” Gojo jumped out of the bed, picked up his speaker, and sprinted out of the room. You came down from your bed and threw yourself into Toge’s arms, who pulled you closer in by your waist. You laughed and nuzzled into his neck happily; he was smiling proudly.

“Oh my god! We need to go shopping!” Nobara realized, grabbing Maki’s wrist and snatching you away from Inumaki to head out the door.

“Wait, I need my wallet!” You screamed, but Toge ran after you to give you the tote bag you carried for trips outside the school. You blew him a kiss as he waved you goodbye.

“I’m dressed so inappropriately to go out” Maki groaned as Nobara rushed you on.

“Don’t worry, I’ll hold your hand so no one flirts with you” Nobara beamed at her and then wink, making Maki fluster. You laughed and elbowed her in the ribs, wiggling your eyebrows.

“I can’t believe I'm going to have to third wheel today!” You laughed, watching as both women turned crimson.

Nobara insisted on shopping in the Harajuku district and looking at her eyes gleaming while passing different stores was like watching a kid in a candy store. Surprisingly, she was the pickiest one out of the three. Maki found her outfit first, a black blazer and pants combo with a black mesh button-up that had Nobara drooling. You found a black silk slip dress that reached down your calf, a slit on one of the legs with a loose neckline that reached down your collarbones. Nobara found a black dress that reached a bit down to her knees, it was strapless with a see-through long sleeve with roses. She laughed at the irony of it, considering the poison she was infected with last week manifested in roses on her skin. After that, you went to grab a bite, the three of you talking about everything, anything and nothing at the same time. You noticed the flirtatious remarks between your companions, happy that both had decided to move their attraction to flirting, rather than just staring at each other all the time. You returned to Jujutsu High around 3 PM, more exhausted than ever, you threw your bag to a corner, kicked off your sneakers, and threw yourself on the bed face down, falling asleep in that same starfish position.

“Aw, she’s asleep” You heard a voice comment. You thought it was only a dream and continued on napping. “Let’s just let her rest”

“Are you crazy? They promised to do our makeup! That’s three people already!” Another hushed voice chimed in.

“Tuna mayo” A third voice hummed. You were already back fast asleep as someone tried to shake you awake gently, only to fail miserably.

Toge sighed and squatted down, his face to level yours. Even with your mouth ajar, your duvet darkening from your saliva, and your slightly loud breathing, he loved how you looked so serene that what he was about to do next he found very cruel.

Delicately, he moved your hair away from your ear, swooping it to the other side of your face. Right there, he was taken away by your sleeping beauty; purples, oranges, and blues chiming into light your face as the sun went down. He sighed, half-smiling “Wake up”

He watched as your eyes popped open and you sat up, rigid. “What day is it?” You wondered, scratching your head and yawning, disoriented after the sudden surge of energy running through your body. Toge sat down by your side and placed his hand on your bare waist. You noticed lately he was even more touchy than usual.

“What day is it?” Nobara mocked you, a vein in her forehead palpitating. “You need to do our makeup! Hurry! You haven’t even showered!” She snatched you away from Toge and pushed you inside your bathroom. You heard a light ‘Tsk!’ outside from Inumaki, who has proven time to time really appreciate you being snatched away from him. “And you! Get out!” Kugisaki ushered him out of the room, slamming the door in his face.

“A little harsh, huh?” Maki said, turning to Nobara, who just rolled her eyes.

“I don’t care” She shrugged before taking out her hair straightener and a heat protector. You chuckled from inside the bathroom before taking your phone out of your pocket and connecting it to the Bluetooth speaker on the wall next to the bathroom mirror. You shuffled the playlist Toge made you a while ago and turned on the faucet.

“I hope you’re not going on a world tour right now! We don’t have time to listen to you all the way to your fiftieth stop in London!” You heard Nobara knock and shout at you from the other side of the door.

You rolled your eyes “Maki, keep your girl in check!” You shouted back before stripping and stepping into the shower. You were in the middle of your third song, washing the suds away from your body and giving your rendition of “Cognac Queen” by Megan Thee Stallion when Nobara opened the door and dragged you out of the shower. It became a struggle, and you were only able to grab the pink fluffy robe that hung on your door.

You fixed Maki’s hair by pulling it half up with a small claw clip, leaving her bangs out. Then you applied the lightest layer of makeup, with the dark eyeliner she requested. Nobara, on the other hand, asked for a full face with a red lip. On the other hand, you went for a light look, with a striking eye and a glossy lip. Then, the three of you rushed to get changed as you realized it was almost ten minutes before 8. As you exited the dorm, you wrapped a white ballerina-style cardigan, taking one last look at yourself at the entrance mirror before Nobara dragged you out of there. The three of you walked to the common room carefully, the door opened slightly.

You heard a couple whistles as you entered the room, you humored the boys, Nobara looked slightly mad while Maki ignored them. You realized that for the occasion Toge wasn’t wearing anything that covered his mouth, and made it evident it was a bit ajar watching you arrive. You said hello to the staff, greeting Nanami happily, who seemed pleased with your recovery and being slightly confused at why Utahime was there. You then headed over to greet your classmates, ending up with Toge.

“You look very handsome” You chuckled, and reached in to fix the strands of hair that fell on his forehead. He was wearing a sage green shirt, black trousers, and thin black suspenders. He shrugged a little and blushed as you touched him, leaning slightly into your touch.

“Shake” He nodded, and held your hand briefly, accepting the compliment. You blushed and looked down before taking your hand away from his face, afraid you were overstepping.

The party was light, everyone chatted and conversed lightly. Itadori seemed very busy on his phone, while Megumi spent all his energy trying to grab his attention. Yuuji called out for you, making you pull away from your conversation with Toge and Panda, who looked dashing in a yellow bow tie. He also called out for Panda. “I need your help,” He said nervously “I saw a speaker with lights in your room, can you go bring it here? Also, please wait at the entrance for someone. Panda, I need you as a distraction”

You excused yourself and left swiftly, fitting your cardigan once more. You walked the way up to your room, taking the squared-shaped, medium-sized speaker with half spheres on top, grabbing the aux cord just in case. Holding the speaker by its handle, you followed the trail to the entrance quietly.

“What is this?” You frowned upon seeing the students of the Kyoto sister school facing you. You raised your brows and Mai and Momo narrowed their eyes back to you, but the rest didn’t. Your eyes fell into the liquor store bags Todo held in his hands, then it all made sense. A smirk crept onto your face as Todo watched your change of expression and laughed. A party with the Kyoto students didn’t seem half as bad, and hey, maybe the stone-cold Soju can solve things out between everyone there.

Soon, you heard a couple of explosions and fireworks and some commotion coming from the common room. “Let’s go” You picked up the skirt of your dress a little to run a little easier, the rest following after you. You noticed everyone outside watching an impromptu firework show as you sneaked in the Kyoto students to the now dark room. Slowly, the rest of the Tokyo students sneaked back to the common room, Itadori locking the door in.

“Okay Panda, that was fun, but can we— huh?!” Gojo realized the locked doors and drawn windows. He tried to force the door open but it was closed shut.

“Oh finally. Can we go to a bar now?” Shoko sighed “Let them be Satoru, they’re in the blink of death every day, let them party”

“Can we all pretend they didn’t do that and we were here all the time chaperoning?” Gojo gave in easily, changing his usual blindfold to black, round sunglasses. Everyone made a noise in agreement and the staff left, feeling the bass pumping under their feet, the surges of different colored lights leaking out of the shut windows.

At first, the party was tense. Everyone was just staring at the other from across the room. You were busy in the background trying to plug in your phone and sync it to the speaker’s Bluetooth. Then, Todo gave a lengthy speech about sorority and brotherhood, and how you should all solve your differences so you could… get drunk and nasty together. In fact, it didn’t take long for the party to lighten up and turn into a club scene. By the third round of shots, mostly everyone was hot and bothered, all the tables moved aside to create a makeshift dance floor. Surprisingly, Panda was an incredible bartender, and he was out to kill; his drinks were packed with alcohol, but fruity and candied flavors hid it all and made it even more addicting. By your third drink, you ripped open the seam of the dress, creating another slit for you to move better.

You, Nobara, and the Zen’in twins were incredible dancers, but you didn’t really expect it from Itadori. He had all the spice down in his hips and the way he could shake his ass like his name was Cardi B. He joined in after his third shot with the song ‘Up’

“Broke boys don’t deserve no pussy!” Todo shouted to the song for the rest to respond.

“I know that’s right!” Everyone answered, except for Toge, before you continued dancing. Now more than ever you felt the euphoria of having money. First-grade sorcerers gave you a considerable amount of money, even if you were just a student.

“Yuuji!” Your mouth dropped to the floor, looking at him, before cheering him on along with the others. By the makeshift bar, a flustered Megumi joined by a sober Inumaki watched him dance, not knowing what he should do in that situation.

Then, as if you were reading his mind, you showed him what he should be doing; standing behind him and grabbing his hips. Soon as Nobara did the same with you, followed by Maki, followed by Mai, followed by Todo, making a train. On the other corner, there was some smoke coming up. You never thought you could have this much fun with people.

Another song started playing “It’s my homegirl, we got the same tattoos!” Itadori pulled you close to him while Todo recorded, and you laughed.

“Don’t accuse me of shit if you ain’t got proof!” You sang along, pointing to the camera, following along.

“What if we got matching tattoos?” Itadori turned to you, and you both frowned to think it hard.

“I think that’s enough” Megumi pulled your drink away from your hand.

“‘Gumi, relax. Go take a shot or a hit from Kamo in the corner, it’s a party! C’mon!” You pulled him to the dance floor, both him and Yuuji as you both threw it back on him to the song. This time, Megumi caught clues from earlier and shyly placed his hands on Itadori’s hips. You stopped and nodded, patting him on the back and walking away, a bit clumsily.

“Do we have any more water left?” You asked Panda, feeling your throat and eyes dry from the intoxicating substances. Panda nodded happily and gave you some water. You had reached your limit and decided it was time to sweat off the drinks and hydrate yourself.

“Oh my bad, that’s vodka,” He said as your mouth went into a thin line as you recognized the strong taste and scent. Inumaki snickered “Here”

“Tell me it’s not vinegar this time” You joked, taking a loud sniff of the liquid, and it was in fact, water. You took a large gulp, as you heard thunder followed by the soft pitter-patter of the rain. “Oh, it’s raining” You turned to Inumaki, who looked stunned at your drunken beauty. Your eyeliner was smudged, and so was your lipstick. There was some hair sticking to the nape of your neck due to the sweat. He could swear he saw some drops running down the small of your back. He gulped and looked away.

“You’ve been here all night, love; c’mon, let’s dance” You set your cup down and took Toge’s hand, pulling him out of his seat. The only reason this party was going along all well was that alcohol made you more straightforward, which made you all sultry towards your evident crush.

You noticed he was paler than usual “What’s wrong? Do I make you nervous?” You whispered in his ear, your hand slowly climbing from his hand all the way up to his neck, where you caressed the area. You never could have known alcohol made you that bold, and such a, well, maneater. At his lack of an answer, you just chuckled and took his hand, guiding him elsewhere.

Everyone at the dance floor greeted him more than enthusiastically, and suddenly, every insecurity Toge was holding deep inside of him throughout the whole party had disappeared. He blinked several times as you smiled at him as radiant as ever. “Let’s dance!” He nodded and smiled back. I love you.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk inumaki #inumaki toge #toge inumaki #inumaki x reader #jjk fluff #10times1occ

[boldlyvoid]

Amoreena | Chapter fourteen

Chapter fourteen

main summary: Heaven is a real place and it's located exactly 14.6 miles away from the FBI, Quantico Headquarters. Off behind a small park, under a fantastical willow tree surrounded by wildflowers, in every colour young minds can imagine.

Don't forget, heaven also comes with angels.

Chapter Warnings: talks of spencers major anxiety, parental death tw (not Diana or bob and Linda), trauma talks, computer hacking and new members joining the family...

word count: 4k

from the beginning <3

Taylors biggest surprise that weekend was what she had planned for Amoreena that night.

She set up a fort in the theatre room, they had every snack imaginable and any movie of her choice to watch. Karaoke in the corner, popcorn being popped in a theatre-style machine, and 3 different, matching child and adult, princess dresses for them to choose from.

It was all an elaborate plan to keep her preoccupied until bedtime, which Taylor offered to handle so that her parents could have a little wedding night date alone.

They’re all ready for a wonderful night when Spencer’s phone started ringing.

“Hello?” Spencer answers, sneaking away from the girls so he could hear better.

“Spencer, I am so sorry to interrupt you this late, but we have a situation… it’s not something that should be discussed over the phone. Do you have someone to watch Amoreena while you and Y/N come into the bureau? As soon as you can?”

His stomach drops, he feels instantly sick. “Not until you tell me who’s dead, who’s dying or who’s trying to kill us.”

“No one is, Spencer, it’s not a case or criminal related, it’s… personal, someone is here to see you,” she sounds serious and Spencer is still just as worried.

“I’ll tell the girls,” he responds before hanging up.

Y/N is standing right behind him, listening with wide eyes as she waits to soothe his panic. They worked like a well-oiled machine, she could physically feel his anxiety and in return, something about her just being there made him physically feel better.

“What’s wrong?” Taylor asks as she appears behind Y/N, Amoreena now off changing into one of the dresses she picked.

“They won't tell me on the phone but they need me and Y/N back at Quantico as soon as possible,” Spencer explained with a pale face, “we can go in the morning.”

“I’m fine watching Amoreena for the night, there’s a hanger down the road with a few of my dad’s planes, I can have someone take you to Virginia within the next hour? It's only 7 pm, I’m sure you can be back before bedtime?” Taylor offered her services for the 100th time that day, “It’s not a problem, really, and they wouldn’t call if it wasn’t serious, they’re the FBI after all.”

With that, they said goodbye to Amoreena and told her they’d be back before she woke up in the morning. If not, she had Y/N’s cellphone for the night to call them before she goes to sleep and when she wakes up, so she won't bother Taylor that early. (Even though Taylor said she wouldn’t mind early morning Amoreena cuddles.)

He was anxious on the drive to the small airport, the old man named Norman, chartering them that night was incredibly kind, they were granted lading access in Quantico and before he could prepare, they were up in the air. He chatted up a storm with Y/N on the headset radio as Spencer overthought the upcoming chat with JJ and stared out at the world below them.

On queue, he jumped from anxious to scared when they land, before getting in the shuttle from the airstrip to the front entrance, but he’s so incredibly terrified when it comes time to actually start the walk to the bullpen.

“Will you come in with me?” His small voice asks as she is pinning a visitors tag on her shirt.

“Of course,” she smiled, taking his hand as they walked into the elevator together.

He grips her hand tighter as the elevator stops, dipping and returning to the right height and making his stomach drop the same way a rollercoaster would. He hated that feeling more than anything, having it alongside the anxiety wasn’t helpful.

He can see JJ and another girl sitting together at his old desk. She’s smiling at whatever JJ says, she looks exactly like Amoreena just with box-dyed black hair that shines purple under the lighting. She’s in all black, she pushes her glasses up her nose with her sweater hiding her hands, Spencer knows she’s a foster kid from just her posture.

“JJ,” Spencer makes their presence clear and the little girl turns to him with a huge smile, running to him and wrapping her arms around his waist. “Hi?”

She’s sobbing ten and he doesn’t know why or even who she is, he lightly holds her with complete shock on his face. He stares at JJ with wide eyes and a gaping mouth as he communicates the confusion and terror with his eyes.

“This is Josephine Elliot, or Jo as she likes to be called, her parents passed away a few months ago and she recently found out her biological father was actually a sperm donor and not her moms husband,” JJ explains a little before sighing and sitting on the edge of the desk.

“She hacked into the sperm bank and found your name, and google led her to the FBI and they stopped her at the second gate, the first only let her in thinking she was your other daughter, Amoreena.”

“I’m so sorry,” the poor girl wipes her tears with her sweater sleeves, “I don’t know why I hugged you when you don’t even know me, ew sorry.”

Spencer pulls her back into a hug, “it’s okay, you don’t have to worry about wanting a hug ever again. You can have whatever you need from me.”

She cries more, holding on to his shirt as he holds her, shushing her softly and rubbing his hand over her back. It’s weird how safe she seems this early in their acquaintance with one another, but he understands it. She’s so desperate for someone related to her to love her again, to replace what she was missing from her parents, that she’s already accepted him as a father without thinking it through. Without even know what he would be like to her.

When she finally calmed down enough, Spencer led her towards the briefing room so they could have a moment alone to talk. He wanted to know her, and she needed to know him before she made another big decision. He let her know who he was, what he used to do and the rundown on his relationship with Y/N and Amoreena.

“So you met her at the park and got married a week later because you both have dead exes and somehow through fate, you made a kid together?” She summed it up in a way that made it sound ridiculous.

“Mutual trauma is a great bonding tool, I’m sure you probably listen to rock music or anything sad and angry because you know someone feels the exact same way you do? I was like that when I was a teenager. We've both lost someone we loved and then made Amoreena out of pure luck,” he combated her snarky summary with his own profile of her.

“I actually like Taylor Swift, Paramore, Evanescence and Olivia Rodrigo when I need to scream about being sad, thank you very much,” she teased him, finding a very easy rhythm as they got to know one another.

“You’re going to lose your mind when you find out who’s with Amoreena right now,” Spencer smiles, somehow everything just fits together.

“What?” She looks so confused, scrunching her face the same way he did to push her glasses up without her hands.

“It’s a long story, but essentially we were at Taylor Swift’s house when JJ called, she’s watching Amoreena still,” Spencer explained, watching her jaw drop.

“Who the fuck are you, dude?” She whispered, and it took Spencer by surprise. “Sorry, I’m so used to swearing in front of adults lately to get my point across. But seriously, you’re so interesting…”

“Understandable,” Spencer laughs lightly at her strange compliment. “I have a lot of connections, and I’ll do anything to see the people I love, smile, that includes you now.”

“You barely know me and you’re just ready to accept that I’m your kid? Didn’t this just happen to you last week?” She laughs at the insanity of it all, “you’re going to have a million kids at this rate, dude.”

Again, she calls him dude and he knows she’s just trying to distance her emotions as they grow fonder and fonder. A coping mechanism so that she doesn’t get hurt anymore, she’s lost too much and she’s not going to love him just to lose him too.

“My dad ran out on me when I was a kid, I basically raised myself when my mom’s schizophrenia got bad, I know what it’s like to feel alone even when you’re with people who are supposed to love you,” he makes sure she knows who he is inside.

“I’m sorry,” she reaches a hand out for him, holding it softly. “I never really liked my dad growing up, he always felt off… I can’t explain it, but he was never the same guy twice he was either angry, miserable or scarily happy," she explains him and all Spencer can think is how he sounds like an unsub.

"I do miss my mom a lot, I didn’t know what else to do when I found out they couldn’t have babies together and she went to a Sperm bank without telling him. I know the names of your other kids too, besides Amoreena, I’m really surprised you found her mom without hacking the system too but, yeah, Dylan is 6 and Alice is 10, they’re both in DC with the same 2 mom’s, so if you didn’t want me, I was going to see if they would cause I’m technically their stepdaughter in a weird way and if I spent one more day in that foster home I would have ended it all,” it's a Reid rant, she's his for sure.

It takes him a minute to absorb it all, “wait, Amoreena is mine for sure?”

She nods like it’s a stupid question, “could you not tell my just looking at her? The 3 of us have the same face.”

“No, they wouldn’t tell us at the clinic,” Spencer is still in shock but more so that she got into the database so easily, “how did you do it?”

“It was easy, I had all the information about the sample my mom used so I just encrypted an email to the secretary of the sperm bank so as soon as she clicked the link to read more I’d have access to her computer, they didn’t even know I was in the system, they probably still don’t know I was there,” she explains it exactly how Penelope would.

“I don’t want you to think I’d ever not want you,” Spencer holds her hand a little tighter, “I’m not sure what the process will be like trying to get the foster agency to agree to me taking you home with us, but I’ll see what I can do. We have a big house and enough room for you in our hearts if this is where you’d like to be. I’m not saying it’ll be easy, you might hate the farm life and the isolation and all the cousins you now have, but you’re a piece of me and I’m not letting you go.”

She uses her free hand to wipe her tears on her sleeve again, “please, I know it’s not going to be the same but I miss having a family so much.”

He wraps her up in his arms, he knows the feeling all too well. One day his mom was there, the next day she was gone and no one prepared him for that. She never had to do this alone, Spencer wasn’t going to let that happen to her.

“Y/N is wonderful, you’ll love her and Amoreena. We live on a huge farm and there’s a lot to do during the day and people to spend time with, believe me, you’re going to feel so surrounded by the love you won’t know what to do with it all,” he shares from personal experience.

“Okay,” she hugged him tighter, pressing her face into his neck as he talked more, feeling the vibrations of his voice on her forehead to know that he was real. That his words were true and she was going to be taken care of.

“Is there anything about yourself that you’d like me to know? Or any questions you have? I’m sure this is going to be an interesting adjustment,” Spencer asked as he pulled away, looking down into her sweet eyes and seeing the hope she was still hanging on to.

“Is Y/N even okay with all of this? It’s her house isn’t it?”

“I’m sure she’ll be fine with it, she knew I had you and the other 2 out there somewhere, we just never expected to meet you so soon,” he’s as honest as possible, talking to her the same way he would with Henry, she seemed even more mature than him.

“Can she come in here too? I’d like to get to know her as well, see if she’s really as lovely as you say she is,” she smiled, coping with her trauma the same way he and Y/N did, with humour.

Almost like Y/N could feel him thinking about her, she knocked on the door before opening it a crack, “sorry, I have some updates,” she smiled.

Josephine smiled at her, “come in.”

Y/N sat down close to her and placed her hand on her shoulder, “my sister is a foster parent, she called her caseworker and they were able to rush the emergency next of kin paperwork, you can stay with us for as long as you would like to.”

“You’re serious? You barely know me?” She kept repeating that as if she convinced herself earlier in the day that they wouldn’t want to know her.

Y/N wrapped her up in a soft hug and Spencer saw all the tension leave Josephines body as she settled against her. It had been a long time since a mother held her, she didn’t realize how much she needed it until she was in her arms.

“You’re half Spencer, so by default you have a portion of my heart now too. I’m not going to love you as an obligation or because I feel like I have to, I love you because you’re part of him and our family,” she whispers into her hair, “I know what it’s like to be alone, you never have to be... unless we’re smothering you then I get it, but you know what I mean.”

She laughed in Y/N’s arms before pulling back. Y/N held her face in her hands and looked at her gently. She ran her fingers through her dyed hair, “you’re going to fit right in with the 4 of us.”

“Four?” She repeats, wondering who else they lived with.

“I’m pregnant,” Y/N smiles as Josephine lights up.

“I’ve always wanted to be a big sister,” she cried a little, “my mom named me after Jo from Little Women, she said she always planned to give me lots of sisters.”

“If this one is a girl she’ll be Eleonora like—“

“Like the poem, Edgar Allan Poe is one of my favourites,” Jo smiled again.

Somehow, without even being there, Amoreena’s mess of glitter glue was able to patch her older sister's broken heart right then and there too.

“I read really fast, my mom said she was going to go bankrupt buying books for me,” she opened up more and more, the hurt of the memories fading as she remembered them with happiness instead of mourning.

Her mom was gone, but the love of a mother filled her space once more. Y/N took her under her wing, keeping her warm and making sure he grew to be as happy healthy and wonderful as all her other babies.

—

They arrive at Taylor's door once again at 11:30. Amoreena is sound asleep in the spare room, not even able to change out of her princess costume or phone them to say goodnight. Taylor said she had a sugar crash and just asked to go to sleep, reminding Taylor that she had the best day ever before closing her tired little eyes.

Jo was very anxious to meet Taylor too, telling her a similar story to Y/N’s from just a few hours prior. Taylor made sure she was comfortable for the night in another spare room, making her a hot chocolate and some snacks from earlier that day at lunch. She was the best host, a wonderful friend and an even better honorary godparent to these girls of Spencer’s.

“Can I have a hug?” She sheepishly asks before she has to turn down the hall to her bedroom for the night.

Spencer answers by wrapping his arms around her and holding her close to his chest once more, he wasn’t sure how his heart could hold so much love for these girls, and still have room left to make more one day. It was a dream come true to have a family this big, no one was going to believe that he gained 3 kids and a wife in under a month.

He kissed her on the forehead gently, seeing her smile at the contact let him know it was fine. “Goodnight dad,” she whispers, pressing her lips together awkwardly the same way he did before turning down the hall and disappearing into her room.

She had only a backpack of things currently, not expecting everything to go as smoothly as it did. She had enough clothes to sleep in, and Taylor happily provided some old tour perch to her just in case she needed something new to wear. Something to help her ease to sleep that didn’t feel like she was going back to her old life in the morning.

Amoreena was going to have a field day tomorrow when she met her big sister, the beautiful girl who was busy covering her scars with bandaids provided by Spencer, but it would take a lot of time, effort and care to make her feel truly healed again. It was going to be interesting seeing Amoreena adjust to sharing him so early, especially since he knew Jo would need so much more attention to ease her anxiety moving forward.

Spencer sat on the guest bed beside Y/N, noticing all the rose petals and candles on the dresser and night tables, “oh she really had a lot planned for us.”

“She’s the fairy godmother of our dreams,” Y/N agreed with a laugh. “I don’t mind staying up late tonight if you don’t mind leaving on Monday instead?”

“I was going on suggest the same thing,” he smiled at her, leaning in to press their lips together gently for the first time since the wedding that afternoon.

“let's get into our comfy’s and go for a walk on the beach, Taylor left me the keys to lock up when we come back,” she whispered the words against his lips before smiling.

“Can I call Derek before we go? I really need to talk to him,” he’s honest with her as he pulls away, feeling really anxious and shook up at the events of the day. He needed his best friend.

“Yeah, I’ll go check out the rest of the guest house, come find me when you’re done?” She says softly, getting off the bed with a smile and stepping out of the room with a small wave.

He takes his phone out and dials the number, waiting with the phone pressed against his ear as it rings. Again and again, every new hum in his ear making his heart beat faster, “hello?” He’s finally rescued.

“Have you talked to anyone on the team lately?”

“Who died?” It was everyone’s go-to question when they got a phone call like this one.

“No one, quite the opposite actually—“

“She’s pregnant!” Derek shouts, cutting him off and Spencer can hear Savannah asking who from the background.

“Well, yeah, but that’s not why I'm calling,” Spencer replies only to be met with Derek's laughter.

“Penny and I had a bet on how long it would take.”

“She cheated because she knew we were trying,” Spencer takes the fun from him, Penelope always won. “I have another kid.”

“I know man, birth is so cool— well I’m telling him anyway,” Derek is clearly talking to Savannah and him at the same time, “we’re pregnant again too.”

“No, Derek, I’m pregnant and sick as hell while you’re perfectly fine,” she snaps back at him as she takes the phone. “You better be so kind to her Doctor Spencer Reid; rub her feet, make her breakfast, thank every god on earth and the ground she walks on for being willing to make another version of you, do you hear me?”

“Yes ma’am,” Spencer hold back a laugh, wondering when Y/N would have a hormonal switch like that, “but I didn’t mean the one in her stomach, another fully formed human of my creation walked into the BAU looking for me today.”

There’s a rustling through the phone as Derek takes it back from her, “what the fuck did you just say?”

“Her name is Jo, she’s exactly a month younger than Henry and her parents died 7 months ago,” he continues without even repeating the last part, “Derek I have 3 kids now and I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Where are you right now?”

“In Taylor Swift's guest house.”

“Spencer, be serious with me, are you doing drugs again?"

“Ask Penelope, she contacted Portia, Rossi’s stepdaughter, who contacted Taylor so I could help Y/N and Amoreena meet her, then JJ called and made us fly all the way to Quantico and now I have 2 children living with me and one on the way. Not to mention, child 1 is extremely jealous about sharing me with people and hasn’t even gotten accustomed to being a big sister, and child 2 is so traumatized she hacked the fucking sperm bank and explained it to me like it was as easy as making a sandwich. I am in over my head here, Derek.”

“Okay, that sounded more like Spencer Reid,” Derek’s calm and happy voice calms him slightly and prompts him to take a deep breath. “If she’s able to hack she’s most likely like Penelope, we can introduce them. She’ll need someone who understands the loss of a parent. Amoreena, on the other hand, you need to spend a day with just her. Take her to the movies, or to see a play or something. Let her know she’s always going to be your little girl no matter how many siblings she gets.”

“Thank you, I needed someone who wasn’t my overly optimistic wife to tell me if I could do it,” he’s overly honest, Derek is his person and will always be his person.

“I get it, thanks for calling me, I’m really glad you’re okay,” he can hear Derek's smile and all he wants is a hug from him. “How was the wedding?”

“Good, we all cried a lot,” he laughs then, “we were supposed to have a big dinner on the beach before we got called into Quantico, so I’m going to go spend time with her now, I love you, Derek,” he rushes the words out so he doesn’t get overly emotional.

“I love you too, Spencer, have a good night,” Derek hands up before they both get too emotional. They always had a knack for making the other cry in times like this.

He lets out a deep sigh before tossing his phone on the bedside table. 3 of his 5 kids were here with him and Y/N now, safe and sound. If anyone else needed him, they could wait.

tag list: @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria @spookyspence @reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @samuel-de-champagne-problems @jswessie187

@k-k0129

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid request #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #amoreena

[scabopolis]

Oh, hey. So. What about a continuation of Come Rain or Shine? “You’re Carrie’s Logan?” “Lilly’s Veronica?” Ummmm ya we need more of that world.

Title: Happy Together, Unhappy Together (a continuation from this fic I wrote five years ago, holy moly what is time??!!) Rating: PG-13 for some swears and kinda some smut glitter Pairing: Logan Echolls/Veronica Mars (mentions of Lilly Kane/Carrie Bishop) Additional Tags: Logan and Veronica probably being schmoopier than acceptable, pillow talk and nonsense Word Count: 910   *** This one is dedicated both to @ayy-ohh​ and @jjmazzy because in a total brain meld they each requested it approximately 10-minutes apart from one another. It was very difficult to reacquaint myself w/ this little universe so I worry L/V are totally different people from the first fic, but *shrugs*. 

Also, there is a lot I left on the cutting room floor (approximately 2,000 words worth) because most of it was trash. I’ll post little snippets of the cuttings in my author room on the VM Fic Club discord if you’re interested.

Have I stalled enough?  *** Carrie and Lilly’s wedding ceremony begins at 5:00 PM. By 5:33 PM, vows are exchanged. The first platters of champagne make their rounds in the largest ballroom at the Neptune Grande at 6:30 PM. Right around 6:55 PM, Veronica Mars makes a terrible first impression (or, depending on who you ask, second impression) on Logan Echolls. And by 10:41 PM, her bra is off, her dress is hitched up around her waist, and Logan has her pressed up against the wall of his hotel suite. 

(Okay, so that leaves almost four hours unaccounted for. She realizes that. It’s just that Logan’s mouth is doing something pretty great at the juncture between her neck and shoulder and—holy shit did she just moan?—so she can’t really be expected to give an accurate accounting of every minute of the wedding reception. Can she?) 

She wakes up the following morning to the sight of Logan’s naked back, his limbs akimbo and cheek pressed into his pillow. It is painfully cute and Veronica has every intention of doing something about it but first, bathroom. She brushes her teeth, pulls her hair back into a messy top-knot, and helps herself to one of the bathrobes hanging on the door. Back in the suite, Logan hasn’t moved. She stands by her impulse from when she first woke up. The impulse that was something along the lines of again, now! 

It’s just—

She also wants breakfast. 

She’s perusing the room service breakfast menu when there’s a knock on the suite door. She ensures her robe is tied and by the time she makes it to the door, looks through the little peephole, there’s a breakfast cart waiting for her to collect. 

Well, she’s not going to say no to that. 

Logan wakes up as she pours herself coffee. 

“Morning,” he says. His voice is deliciously gruff and reminds her of the aforementioned again, now! thought. Then there’s the hair which sticks up ten different ways. He runs a hand through it, making it even more of a mess. 

(There was a moment last night, where he was propped up against the headboard, she was in his lap, fistfuls of his hair in her grip as he—)

She focuses on her coffee, stirring the cream and sugar until it’s the perfect color of brown. “When did you manage this?” she asks. 

“When you were in the shower last night.” 

“God, you’re good.” 

“I know.” 

“Conceited.” 

“Self-assured.” Logan gets out of bed and settles behind her. He rests one hand on her hip and uncovers the breakfast plates. “Sweet or savory?” 

“Sweet.” 

The hand on her hip bunches up her robe, and she feels Logan press his smile into the crook of her neck. God. This is going to be a problem. He is going to be a problem for her. 

Breakfast is a peculiar affair. Peculiar in that Veronica would never think to describe morning afters as easy. But this one is. 

She eats blueberry pancakes and bacon, all while she and Logan joke and jibe about the wedding the night before. They can’t joke about how happy both Lilly and Carrie looked, though. 

“They’re going to make it. Right?” 

Logan nods as he takes a sip of his coffee. “They’re going to make it.” 

“Speaking of couples—”

“—Oh, you already think of us as a couple?”

“Logan.” 

“Do I get a pin or a letterman’s jacket?” 

She pinches his nipple. 

“Ouch,” he says, batting her hand away. “You’re a pest.” 

She shrugs, not denying it. “Speaking of couples,” she tries again, “word is going to get back to Lilly and Carrie about what we told Duncan.” 

“Oh no, Sandy! Whatever will we do?” She goes to pinch him again and he smacks her hand away. “Be nice.” 

“You don’t think that is a problem? That our best-friends are going to hear we told my ex we were dating?” 

“We’ll explain it to them.” 

“Oh.” She runs a finger through the syrup on her plate. “Yeah, that’s logical.” 

“And you find logic to be disappointing?” 

She sighs. “I think I like you.” 

Logan moves the plate away from where it sits separating them and scoots closer. Their knees touch and he runs his hands over her bare thighs, up under her robe. “I would hope so.” He tucks a strand of hair that’s fallen from her top knot behind her ear. “Because if what you did to me last night is what you do to people you don’t like?” 

She pushes at his shoulder and he reaches up to keep her hand there. “Veronica.” She curls her fingers like a fist. Presses that fist into Logan’s skin. 

Her name on his lips is sotto voce. Like a secret. She leans forward and rests her forehead on his chest. “What?”

“Maybe let’s try?” 

“I live in San Francisco,” she tells his sternum.

“I know that.” 

“You live in San Diego.” 

“I also know that.” She looks up at him. “I also know that I am very rich.” 

“Why do I know so many rich people?” 

“It’s a 90 minute flight.” 

“Think of the greenhouse gas emissions.” 

“Veronica.” The way he says her name is part rebuke, part plea. It’s tempting to ignore it. Insist it’s a dumb idea to start a relationship with 500 miles between them. Only, she doesn’t want to. 

“Okay.” She kisses the space above his heart. “Maybe let’s try.”

#vm fanfic #lv fanfic #veronica mars fanfic #logan x veronica #logan echolls #veronica mars #never stories #p: logan x veronica #c: veronica mars #c: logan echolls #otp: the one person #long post

[clouditae]

First Love | 13

Yoongi x reader | 18+ | college au | tattoo artist au | angst | fluff | swearing

Word: 3.3k

You first saw him in the multi-purpose room. Later learn his name, and on your third year, as he becomes your neighbor, you discover his lifestyle. Knowing your crush on him was nothing but that, you wanted to find the courage to look for love. Asking your friend for help, you’re pointed in the direction of the expert. Your neighbor, Min Yoongi

Chapter Index

“So you and Hanbin?” 

You jump and blurt out, “What?” You turn around to face the source of the voice only to meet gazes with Yoongi. 

“You. Hanbin. You’re a couple now?” he says in a nonchalant tone as he looks at you with a lazy gaze. 

You can feel the heat on your cheeks and stomach flutter at his name. “No,” you answer. “We’re just friends.”

“Just friends?” He walks past you and up to his door. “From what I saw, that kiss wasn’t “just friends” for him.” He leans against his dorm door, crossing his arms over his chest. “You got someone already?” The way he says the last word irks you. It’s like he’s mocking you—or something else but he just irritates you.

“Why does it matter?” you ask, walking past him to stand next to your door. “Plus, how do you know about the kiss?”

“Well for starters you always tell me you’re not brave enough to do anything. Turns out you’re either lying or you’re really good at getting someone like him to fall for you. And I know about the kiss because you were extremely loud.” 

“Well I apologize for the noise and you should be proud that I don’t need you anymore if I can get someone like him—whatever that means,” you state matter of factly.

He stares at you with that stupid blank stare you’re beginning to hate so much. “Yeah. Okay. We’ll see how long that lasts before you end up in the bedroom with him.” He puts his key in the hole and turns the door knob. 

He enters his room, letting the door close behind him but you’re faster. Slamming your hand on his door and pushing it open. You ignore the stinging feeling on your hand as you say in an outraged tone, “I am sick and tired of you belittling me. Ever since we started this whole thing, you've only judged and acted rude towards me. I’m sorry for what happened to you, but you do not need to push your anger towards her onto me. I am not your distraction and I am not the reason you’re so angry.” You release the door and make your way towards your room. You hear the sound of his door closing as you open yours and enter your room. 

Ari is staring at you wide-eyed as the door closes behind you. “What?” you ask, tossing your backpack on your bed. 

A smile slowly grew on her lips. “Did you just tell him off?”

“Tell him off? I didn’t tell him off.” 

Ari laughs, “You so did! You were mad and you let him have it with how he was towards you.”

Your eyes widened a bit. “You heard me?” You plop on your chair. “Was I that loud?”

Ari shakes her head. “You weren’t loud, but I could hear you a bit. I didn’t hear everything, but just enough to know you set him straight.” 

You shrug, grabbing your backpack that is luckily close to the edge of your bed. “He was rude to me, and I guess I finally snapped.” 

“I can’t believe you brought Sam up in the conversation,” Ari states in awestruck. “You go girl.” 

You can’t help but sink in your chair a bit. “I can’t believe I said that when he doesn’t even know I know about her.” 

Your roommate laughs again, “Fuck that, and fuck him. He treats you like shit, you make him feel like shit. That’s that, Y/N. No guilt.” 

You let out the air you were holding. “No guilt,” you say more to yourself than to her.

“That’s my girl,” she says in a cheer like tone. “No guilt just dick.”

You turn towards her. “What?”

It’s her turn to shrug as she answers, “I don’t know. I heard some girl say it at a party once. It doesn’t make sense, but it kind of does if you’re trying to get laid? You’re not trying to get laid right now.” She shakes her head. “Just ignore the whole thing.” You can’t help but smile as you open your backpack and pull out your items to begin your homework. 

You’re about two hours in of doing your homework, Ari giving up twenty minutes after starting, when your phone dings, the screen lights up and shows the small message icon. Putting your pencil down, you pick up your phone and unlock the screen, clicking on the message. 

[3:17 pm] Hanbin: Hey Y/N. Are you free later tonight?

You feel your heart’s beat pick up as you reply.

[3:18 pm] Me: Hey. I’m free later. What’s up?

Locking your phone, you put it down to distract yourself from your mind going crazy, but it seems Hanbin is a quick texter as your phone dings once again. 

[3:18 pm] Hanbin: Would you like to meet up and have dinner together? We could eat at the dining hall if you prefer.

Maybe it's because she's your best friend, or maybe it's because you let out the biggest gasp—it's probably the gasp, but Ari asks, "What happened?" You turn to her with the widest eyes you think you can ever have. No words are forming, so you can only stick your phone out to her. She gets up from her chair and takes your phone, reading the message. Her eyes grow big, a shocked smile growing as she says animatedly, "You better go."

"I can't," you blurt, taking your phone back.

"You can, Y/N. If you like him, and he's asking you to hang out with him, take advantage of this! Who knows! Maybe he'll like you back and the two of you will go out and act like a cute couple. The jock and the shy girl. It's your typical teen movie!" She sounds so excited, as if she’s telling her favorite book to you.

"What makes you think he's a jock? You and I technically barely know him."

"He looks like he works out. He could play baseball? He hits those home runs like he can hit your home run right after—"

"Ari," you groan, covering your ears, no longer wanting to hear her perverted comments.

She cackles, "Okay, okay. I'm done." It's quiet between the two of you as you remove your hands from over your ears. "But I do think you should go. You never know what could happen. It could turn into something more, but it could also turn into a friendship."

You let out a long sigh. "Okay," you mumble, replying with shaky hands.

[3:23 pm] Me: Sure! If you want to come here and eat, or we can meet at the food court on campus.

[3:23 pm] Hanbin: Great! I'll meet you on campus if you don't mind

"What did he say?" Ari asks, no longer by her bed but looming over your shoulder to try and read your texts.

"He wants to meet at the food court," you answer, thumbs hovering over the keys with no way of replying coming to mind.

"Tell him you'll meet him there! Pick a time and we'll dress you cutely," Ari chimes, voice in a sing-song tone. You can only ignore her happy toned comment as you reply to his text.

[3:24 pm] Me: I don't mind

[3:25 pm] Hanbin: See you at 5? :)

Your heart races.

[3:25 pm] Me: See you at 5 :)

Ari squeals, "My Y/N is going on a date!" Grabbing your arm she pulls you to your feet. "You have almost an hour to get ready, so we need to work."

You turn to her. "Why do you make it sound like it's going to be a mission to make me look nice?" you ask in an offensive tone.

She lightly smacks your arm. "You know what I mean. We have less than an hour to make you more cuter than you already are. I feel like Hanbin is into cute girls while Yoongi is into hot girls, so cute is going to be so much easier because you're already cute. We just have to find the perfect outfit and apply some light make-up. Maybe put your hair up in a bun?" she rambles, opening her closet to look through her endless line of clothes.

"I don't want to look like I'm actually trying," you announce, watching her as she pulls out a light pink tank top and holding it out towards you to see how it would look.

"This is cute. Take it." Grabbing the top from her, Ari goes back to her closet and digs through it once more. "You won't look like you're trying. I'm going to dress you like you were in school a few hours ago. Cute outfit, light to no make-up, and hair in a messy bun." Ari brings out an olive colored cardigan. "Put this on and keep the jeans you're wearing."

You roll your eyes, take the clothing article and walk to the bathroom. After a quick top change, you come out to see her setting up her make-up station. "Sit, sit." For the remaining short time that you have, Ari works effortlessly to do your make-up perfectly and get your messy bun to look obviously messy but cute. By the time she is done, you have ten minutes to make it to the shuttle stop before it takes off and you have to wait another thirty minutes. She looks at you with such satisfaction. “You are so freaking cute, Y/N. If no guy dates you, I will.” 

You chuckle. “Thanks Ari.” 

Grabbing your wallet and bag from Ari, she grabs you by your shoulders to spin you around towards the door. She pushes you as she rushes, "Now go eat and have fun, and call me if something is fishy! I'll get there in a blink of an eye and beat the shit out of everyone that hurts you." She opens the door and pushes you out, pushing the door close before you can say anything. You can only sigh. How long will it take before Ari realizes your phone and keys are still on your desk. The door opens, Ari shoving your keys and phone at you. "Love you!" she says as you take your belongings.

The door closes leaving you alone. "Love you, too," you mutter, putting your wallet and keys in your bag. Doing a quick dig you luckily found earphones. You do a small cheer and put in your earphones, connecting it to your phone as you begin your walk towards the stop. You mouth the words to the song as you leave the building, make your way down the stairs and once again follow a group of people across the parking lot and towards the shuttle and bus stop.

You enter the shuttle seconds before the driver closes the doors and takes off towards the campus. You take a seat by the window and watch the scenery go by at a somewhat fast pace. Your favorite song comes on. It’s a somewhat romantic song and you can't help but wonder if this is a sign. A sign for you to move on and let your feelings grow for Hanbin?

You shake your head. You don't know if he has feelings for you. He kissed your forehead—it's not like he kissed your lips or cheek. Plus he was drunk so he probably doesn't remember it or if he just did it out of a friendly manner. Maybe he kisses all his friends who are girls like that. Maybe all his friends.

The campus comes into view as the shuttle drives past the main entrance to enter through the side where the driver will stop at the first stop. A few get off as a few enter the shuttle. After a few seconds of waiting for the cars to drive by, the shuttle continues its route. As the second stop begins to appear, the vehicle slows down, coming to a stop behind a bus. You grab your bag and follow one other student off the shuttle, thanking the driver as you step off the last step.

A few people run past you to make it to the bus that looks like it’s about to leave. You hope they make it as you make your way towards the main food court. As you begin to pass the student union building, you wonder if he meant the food court next to the bar and grill, or the food court that’s on the floor in the building you are now passing. Turning the corner that will lead you towards the escalators to the higher level of the campus you meet eyes with Hanbin, who’s exiting the same building you’re walking by.

He smiles. "Hey," he says, slipping his backpack on.

Taking in a quiet, shaky breath, you say, "Hi."

He walks alongside you as the two of you make your way towards the escalators. "I wasn't sure if we were meeting at this food court or the one by the bar," he laughs.

You smile, relieved he feels the same way you felt just moments ago. "Yeah. I wasn't sure either, so I thought the main one would be where you would be."

"Me too. I was on the first floor watching people bowling and I spent a good five minutes deciding if I should just go to the second floor or meet you at the one up here." He points to the building at the top of the escalator. "Guess I chose correctly."

You giggle, "I guess I chose correctly, too."

As the two of you step onto the escalator, letting it take you to the top, Hanbin asks, "What are you in the mood for?"

Crap. He put you on the spot. Now you actually have to think about what you want. You don't know—you didn't have time to think about it. You were so worried about meeting up with him and the whole kiss thing that you totally forgot about what it is that you two are going to eat. What do you say? Greek? Chinese? Japanese? A burrito? A burger? What. Do. You. Say? "I'm not sure yet," you blurt. Close enough.

"Shall we flip a coin?" he questions, fishing out from his pocket a coin. You nod. "Heads are whatever is up here, and tails is whatever is on the second floor." You nod again, watching as he gets the coin into position and tosses it into the air. The two of you watch the coin flip over and over again before landing back in his hand as he does one more flip and reveals the result on the back of his hand. "Tails it is." He gestures to the escalator behind you. "Guess we should go back down."

You smile turning around and following the line to the escalator and going down. "So what are you in the mood for down there?" you ask him, hoping he'll take the bait and pick rather than ask you again because you still do not know.

Hanbin taps his chin in thought. "They have a sub shop as well as Mexican I think?" He seems to have a eureka moment as he snaps his fingers. "There's a pizza shop outside the main entrance. Are you in the mood for pizza?"

Ah. Sbarro. "Yeah. Pizza sounds great."

"Okay, we'll just go through the court and head outside," he informs, taking the lead and entering the student union building. You follow in suit, walking inside and following him past all the tables and chairs that are taken up by students eating and chatting. You enter the lobby of the building where in the center of the room is the student information center. Walking out the front entrance door, you see it’s a bit similar to the outdoor seating by the food court. Along both walls are different stores. Hair parlor, a bank, and so much more along with the pizza shop to your left. Running along the shops are tables and chairs for students.

Walking towards the shop and entering the small building, you place your orders, arguing with Hanbin for a minute about paying, but he pays and the two of you wait at a small table. "Uh," Hanbin begins, adjusting in his seat across from you, "The reason I asked to meet you is because I wanted to talk about that kiss."

You swallow. "Okay."

He looks at you guiltily. Oh boy. What is he going to say? There are so many ideas that are running through your mind, but you don't want to listen to it. You don't want to let that get to you any longer. That fear of maybe it isn’t meant to be. Hanbin interrupts your thoughts, "I wanted to apologize for kissing you. I know it was sudden and I should not have done that—especially drunk, but..." he trails off, looking away. Scratching the back of his head, he mumbles, "I have a crush on you, and in the heat of a drunk moment, I kissed you. However, that doesn't excuse my actions."

You’re frozen in shock. Did you hear that correctly? No... Right? "What did you say?" you ask, voice just above a whisper.

"I'm sorry?"

You shake your head. "No, after that. The... uh."

Hanbin seems to catch on. The color on his cheeks change to a pinkish color. "I"—he clears his throat—"I have a crush on you."

"When?"

"When?" he repeats and you nod. "I guess since we met at the party. You were kind and pretty, and drunk you were even cuter." You're totally hallucinating. Right? "I just wanted to meet to apologize. I'm not looking for you to like me back or anything—plus we just met. I barely know you really," he rambles, and continues to ramble that you’re not even listening anymore.

Take advantage.

"I like you, too," you blurt, voice completely uneven.

Hanbin stops talking and is now staring at you. "What?"

You can't meet his eyes as you repeat yourself, "I like you, too." You look back up at him.

It’s like a weight is lifted off his shoulders and the slight fear in his eyes disappears. Hanbin smiles the biggest smile he can and it causes you to smile as well. "Shall we get to know each other more?"

You nod, and for the rest of the day the two of you sit, eat and talk about everything and anything. You discover his favorite color, why he decided to become a film major and so much more. From just his stories you love his older sister, and his mom is just an angel.

Sadly the sun is going and the shop is closing, so that means it’s time for you to go. The two of you continue to talk as you make your way towards the bus stop. When the two of you reach the stop, you see your shuttle idling by. Most likely waiting for time to go by before it takes off towards the dorms. You made it just in time.

"Well," Hanbin begins as you turn around to face him, "I guess I'll see you later."

You smile, acting like a schoolgirl as you twirl your finger around a loose string on your bag. "Yeah. I'll see you later."

Hanbin chuckles. "Bye, Y/N."

"Bye," you reply, waving as you turn around and enter the shuttle, showing your ID as you take the first seat. You can't see who else is in the vehicle, but you see a few heads. Thankfully they're all back seats kind of people so they can't see all your giddiness. Your phone rings and you quickly pull it out of your bag, forgetting you never put it on vibrate. You frown, answering the phone and looking out the window to Hanbin.

"Would you like to go on a date this weekend?" he asks, gaze towards the door where you had entered.

You chuckle, shining the light from your phone on the window. His attention is now where you are. "I'd love to."

#bangtanuniversity #bangtanarmynet #thebtswritersclub #btsgoldnet #btswritersguild #bts #bts x reader #bts x you #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts angst #bts au #min yoongi #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fluff #yoongi angst #yoongi au

[moonlightserenadeeznutz]

Scorbus One-Shot

For @swiftslytherin

~ “There must be one person you like,” said Rose. She was sitting with the two of them in the Slytherin common room, though Albus wasn’t quite sure why. She didn’t visit often, in fact Albus and Scorpius had visited her more times in the past few months than she had in the past few years. She wasn’t really the visiting type person. Besides, Albus had more people to visit in Gryffindor.

Albus wasn’t in much of a mood to indulge her with an answer, but she wouldn’t let up. His answer was complicated though. He glanced at Scorpius, who was sitting near enough to them but was engrossed in a book, so Albus wasn’t sure how much he was able to hear; when Scorpius got involved in something the world faded around him and Albus had to call his name at least twice to get his attention.

“I suppose there’s one person...” he reluctantly admitted, and Rose jumped on it immediately.

“Really? Tell me!” She was excited, unsurprisingly. Albus had never shown interest in people before. His admittance of a possible crush was as rare as a blast-ended skrewt with an agreeable temprement.

“Well, there’s not much to tell.”

“Which house are they in?”

“Slytherin.”

“Is it Layla Wright? I’ve seen you looking at her sometimes.”  “No, not her... she’s pretty I suppose but we’ve barely spoken. This other person, they’re... I dunno...” He didn’t want to elaborate, mainly because he was by no means used to sharing his feelings out loud. It felt very uncomfortable.

“Well, why d’you like them?”

“I guess... they’re smart. And... they’re sweet. They’re really sweet. Every time I speak to them they make me smile, or laugh...” he was smiling now just by thinking about them. Rose must have noticed because she smiled along with him in an almost giddy manner.

“Aww, you really do have a crush! Who’d have thought it!”

~ “They’re smart. And... they’re sweet. They’re really sweet. Every time I speak to them they make me smile, or laugh...” Scorpius had been listening quite intently when Rose had asked Albus if he liked anyone, though he had pretended otherwise. He wasn’t expecting an answer because he didn’t think Albus did like anyone. Albus had never told him anything, and Albus told him everything. So when Albus did respond, Scorpius was surprised. Really surprised.

Rose managed to prise more information out of Albus.

“Are you going to ask them out?”  “No!” Albus shut down the question immediately, and Scorpius couldn’t help but feel relieved. Who the hell was this person anyway? He knew it was selfish to think, but he had always thought that he was the only one in Hogwarts who could make Albus smile and laugh, so if someone else had also achieved this, why hadn’t he ever heard of them? Unless... 

No. Of course not. It couldn’t be. Stupid thought.

“Why not? If you really like them-”

“That’s exactly why I’m not going to ask them out. Because I don’t want to mess it up. I’m happy just being friends with them... I just like being with them...” he trailed off quietly. Scorpius would ordinarily think this person sounded lovely if he wasn’t battling with a sudden unexpected and unwanted feeling of jealousy. It couldn’t be him. Scorpius had never thought of himself to be lovely. And he certainly didn’t think anyone else thought that.

Not that he cared if it was him... he wasn’t... he didn’t like Albus in that way... did he?

“Excuse me a minute,” Scorpius stood up and swiftly walked out of the common room, aware of two pairs of eyes watching him as he left.  He found himself in the dorm room, in his bed with the four poster curtains shut behind him.

Why was Albus’s confession getting to him so much? He almost felt like he wanted to cry. Who did Albus have a crush on? What did they have that Scorpius didn’t? Why didn’t Albus talk about them? Did Albus like them more than he liked him?

And why did any of this matter?

He thought about Albus, and saw dark messy hair falling into beautiful green eyes. Green eyes that met no one’s except his. Black hair that looked so soft. Rare smiles that lit up Scorpius from inside. A laugh that was so unexpectedly loud and full, gasping breaths and hunching over. Both of them in fits over something one of them had said, for hour-long minutes. And Scorpius staring at those lips, those pink lips on brown skin that parted with fascination when Albus stared at something pretty or listened to music that went right through him.

Shit.

Shit.

He liked Albus? He liked Albus?

He liked Albus.

And Albus liked someone else. Oh Merlin. Someone else. Someone who wasn’t him.

“Scorp?” Scorpius didn’t move. If anything he shut his eyes. For the first time in the five years he’d been at Hogwarts, he didn’t want to see Albus. It was too painful, and he was too overwhelmed with such conflicting emotions. Please go away. Please go away. Please go away.

But of course he wouldn’t. Albus wanted to see if his friend was okay.

Scorpius heard his curtains open, but kept his eyes closed. Could he pretend to be asleep? It was only five pm.

“Are you alright?” Albus asked, clearly concerned at Scorpius’s odd behaviour.

“Mm hm,” Scorpius affirmed, abandoning the idea of feigning sleep.

“Are you sure? You’re not ill are you?” Scorpius finally turned around and saw the face he’d been dreaming about looking down at him, and his chest immediately constricted.

Scorpius was always the emotional, over-sharer of the two. He didn’t know why, but he’d never been much afraid to tell people how he was feeling, especially Albus. Even now, he wanted to share everything he felt with Albus, despite the fact that Albus was probably the last person he could share these particular feelings with. Scorpius sat up and fidgeted with the side of his green duvet.

“This person you like. Who are they?” It was Albus’s turn to look awkward.

“You heard that?”

“I was right next to you, Al.”

“Right.” It was quiet. Scorpius didn’t know if Albus was going to reply. When the boy went quiet he could stay like that for a while. Scorpius usually didn’t mind, but right now he was keen for answers. 

“How come I don’t know who you’re talking about? They sound nice.”

“They are.”

“Is it Stephanie? She’s nice, and she’s very pretty.”

“It’s not Stephanie.”

“Then who?” Albus sat on the adjacent bed, though it wasn’t actually his. His was on the opposite side of the room. Scorpius had spent many a night in it with Albus, another thought he tried to suppress for the time being.

“You really don’t know?” Scorpius shook his head.

“I suppose you didn’t trust me enough to tell me...” Albus stared at him.

“Scorpius, wh- that’s not it at all! Of course I trust you!” He stood up again, though Scorpius didn’t see why. Albus pushed his hair out of his eyes. Scorpius stared at the spot his fringe had once been, and then immediately looked down. He had to stop staring. Albus sighed. “You make things tricky for me sometimes.”

“Fine! Don’t tell me!” Scorpius stood up roughly and walked across the room with no real purpose in mind, but was suddenly too angry to care. “It’s not like I care or anything, I’d just wished you’d told me instead of me having to third wheel you and Rose’s conversation.” He crossed his arms, his back turned to his friend. A moment later a hand was resting on his shoulder, and his breath hitched. If looking at Albus had suddenly become difficult, Albus touching him almost made him stop breathing. Albus turned him around and their eyes met.

Merlin’s tit. Albus was fucking beautiful. How was Scorpius supposed to deal with Albus liking someone else? This was torture. And only ten minutes ago he’d been reading happily. This boy was going to be the death of him.

“Didn’t you hear what I said in the common room? Smart? Makes me laugh? I just wanna be with them-?”

“Yes alright, I heard.” He hadn’t intended to sound snappy, but he couldn’t help it. Albus was obliviously pouring salt onto the wound. “They sound great. I’m sure they like you too.”

“You think?”

“Well, I don’t know, I don’t know them do I? But they must do. You’re brilliant.” His statement made Albus laugh, though he didn’t know why.

“You’re an idiot, Scorp.” Scorpius squinted his eyes in plain confusion.

“Why?” Albus fiddled with sleeves, his fingers moving repetitively, a sure fire sign of his nervousness.

“Because the person I like is you.”

#scorbus #albus x scorpius #albus potter #scorpius malfoy #scorbus oneshot #hp oneshot #harry potter #scorbus headcanon #scorbus fic

[lilliagradiewrites]

evermore (jj maybank)

Summary: Y/N is in a depressive state, but refuses to tell her boyfriend. After she walks out on a party, JJ realizes that something is off, and rushes to comfort her.

*based off of the song “evermore” from Taylor Swift’s new album!!

WC: 2.2k

WARNINGS: Mentions of depression/ symptoms of depression, mentions of anxiety & panic attacks, mentions of suicide/ death. (The reader is at a very low point during this. Please proceed with caution of mentions of depression triggers you.)

A/N: Hey my lovelies! I have a new piece for you. This is a one- shot, and is on the shorter side. If you don’t know, Taylor Swift released a new album on the 11th. I have been so obsessed with it, and one of my favorites from the record is the title track “evermore.” I knew i had to write something based off of that song! This is inspired by that song, and I encourage you to listen to it while you read.

Much love to you all, and happy holidays! I hope you enjoy!!

LET’S DO IT!

~~~~~~

The night was cold as you walked quietly down the street, the old cardigan your best friend gave you wrapped tightly around your shoulders. You weren’t dressed for the mid-october weather, your shorts and tank tops providing little warmth on your shivering body. As much as you hated the cold, it felt good to feel something again.

November was approaching quickly, and as you walked down the street that cold october night, you realized that you hadn’t had a true spark of happiness since that July. Of course, there were moments of joy, but it was never consistent, and lasted a day at the most.

You couldn’t seem to pinpoint the exact moment where everything went wrong, no matter how many times you’d tried. Countless times, you’d retraced your footsteps to find the moment your despair began. Unfortunately, this only resulted in distant memories from better times becoming fresh in your mind, pushing you deeper into the dark hole you were trapped in.

For a while, no one noticed a difference. Your group of friends, whom you adored, didn’t bat an eye when you left a party early because you were ‘tired’ or ‘not in the mood’, despite the fact that you loved parties. It hurt a little that they didn’t see a problem, and that only made the problem worse.

The first person to notice was JJ, your loving boyfriend. The blonde boy was the light of your life, but as your own issues began to overtake you, you found yourself pushing him away unintentionally. He would send texts, asking you to come over and see him. He'd invite you to come out to dinner with the pogues at The Wreck. He’d beg for your permission to show up at your house because he missed you so damn much.

Time after time, you replied with perfectly crafted excuses that left him concerned, but with no questions. That’s all you needed to accomplish, really. If he didn’t ask any questions, then you’d be fine.

The routine was working out pretty well for you in the beginning. JJ and the rest of the group would accept your excuses and go along with what you told them, even if they found it slightly suspicious.

But, after a while, your constant absence finally hit them. It was concerning, especially when it came to someone like you. Your parents weren’t strict, so it wasn’t an obedience thing. You loved parties, and were quite social, so it wasn’t a social anxiety thing. They wondered at their hangouts what could be wrong, but none of them could come up with a viable explanation.

Texts from your friends were lighting up your phone at a constant rate, but you trained yourself to ignore them. Your mind had convinced you that all of them hated you, and were only messaging you as a joke, or because they felt bad.

Though your brain tried to tell itself that JJ didn’t love you either, you were fighting hard against that idea. Even the slightest notion of your boyfriend no longer being interested in you broke you down into tears, so you tried to allow the thought to cross your mind as little as possible.

He texted you every day, asking if you were okay and trying to make plans. He texted you good morning, and goodnight, as well as a few other times throughout the day. He was a wonderful boyfriend, and you appreciated him, but you didn’t have the energy to show him the attention he deserved. You texted back for a while, but eventually gave up, leaving him on read almost every single time.

For the last few weeks, JJ had been broken up with worry. He worried that you were mad at him, that you hated him. He worried that you were leaving him. So, he showed up at your house.

As soon as he walked in your room, he could tell that something was incredibly off. You were normally a somewhat neat person, but your room was in complete disarray. Clothes littered the floor, empty plates and half-eaten bags of chips tossed absentmindedly to various locations.

And you. You looked like you hadn’t changed or bathed in weeks. Your hair was messy, and your face looked as if you’d been crying for years.

When you saw his face, your mask slipped on without a second thought.

“JJ! Hi, babes!”

“Hi, angel.” He replied, concern evident in his voice as he spoke. “I haven’t really seen you in forever. Are you okay?”

You nodded immediately, concealing your true feelings. “I’m okay. I’ve been taking up extra shifts at work because I need money for college soon. I’m trying to save up early. I’ve been so busy and exhausted, I just haven’t had the time or energy to see anybody.”

Lie. You got fired from your job a month ago because you called out ‘sick’ too many times.

JJ was still suspicious, but went accepted your story just as he had many times before.

“Alright, babe. I just miss you a lot. Take a break soon. Are you working tonight?”

“No.” You couldn’t bring yourself to lie to him again.

“Well, then, you’re coming to hang out.”

You shook your head quickly, pulling your hands away from his. “No thanks, JJ. I had a late shift last night and I’m exhausted. Plus, I have an early shift tomorrow morning, and I refuse to go in hungover.”

JJ took your hands back into his, meeting your eyes. “You don’t have to stay late, and you don’t have to drink. Just come for a little bit. Like, literally for an hour. We all just miss you so much.”

When he was looking into your eyes like that, you couldn’t help but say yes. Though you knew you’d come to regret it, the smile on his face after you agreed made it all seem worth it at the time.

“Yes! Okay, my love, I have to go deliver some stuff for Pope’s dad. The party starts at ten, so I’ll pick you up at nine-thirty.”

You didn’t say anything, simply nodding to indicate that you’d heard him and understood what he said.

“Bye, baby. I’ll see you tonight. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” It was barely a whisper, but it seemed to be enough for JJ. He gave you one final wave before exiting your bedroom and closing the door in his wake.

When he had gone, your anxiety began to cover you. You had come to hate gatherings and parties, despite the fact that they used to be your main source of happiness and excitement. How were you going to make it through this party?

Sighing, you turned to your bedside table, moving around empty cups to peer at the time on your alarm clock. It was hard to read due to the tears in your eyes blurring your vision slightly. After a moment, you were able to decipher the numbers on the screen. 8:06 PM. You had approximately an hour and half to get ready before your boyfriend would be there to pick you up.

The first half hour, you decided, would be used for praying you were able to make it through this night.

---

About 70 minutes after your boyfriend’s visit, the clock on your bedside table read 9:12 PM. You sat at your vanity, brushing on small amounts of makeup. You didn’t want anything too crazy like you used to do; it just didn’t feel right anymore.

The same thing applied to your outfit. After almost an hour of trying things on, you went for something simple. A sage green tank top, your favorite blue jean shorts, and a basic oversized white cardigan kie had given you. The outfit was basic, but cute nonetheless. You completed the look with your pair of slip-on vans that were so beat up they could barely be classified as white anymore.

Your hair, which you normally would curl or style for parties, had been brushed through and left down. That was all you had the energy for. The party hadn’t even started yet, and you were already exhausted.

At least you had showered. It had been over a week since you last bathed, and this party gave you incentive to take care of yourself. That’s the only thing you were grateful for when it came to this party.

As you finished getting ready, you promised yourself that you would try your best to enjoy the night.

JJ had come to pick you up as he told you he would, at nine-thirty on the dot. He was always careful to be very punctual when it comes to you. He said you looked pretty when you got in his car, and the small compliment warmed your heart significantly.

The party was smaller than your normal ones. The pogues were all there, and they were all happy to finally see you again. You greeted them kindly and took your seat beside JJ, wanting to make the night go by as quickly as possible. You had hardly even arrived and you were already anxious.

As the night went by, your anxiety only got worse. You began to zone out, not paying attention to the conversation. You snapped back to reality when the whole group laughed at some joke someone told, and you just chuckled nervously along, hoping nobody noticed you weren’t being attentive.

A few hours went by, slowly but surely, and you decided that you had to be done for the night. You had been on the brink of a panic attack for the last hour, and it was getting harder to fight it off.

“Alright, guys, I’m tired. I’m probably gonna head home. I’ll see y’all later.” You announced, standing up from your seat. Immediately, JJ stood up with you, leaning into your ear.

“I’m too drunk to drive, babe. Do you think you can wait a little longer for me to sober up?”

You shook your head lightly, pushing him away. “No, it’s ok, babes. I’m just gonna walk. I don’t want to pull you away from the party anyways.”

A look of concern took over the blonde’s face. “I don’t like that. You can’t walk by yourself at night, it’s not safe.”

“I’ll be fine, J.” You assured him. “I live, like, a five minute walk away from here. We’re super close to my house. It’ll be okay.”

JJ continued to insist that you wait, but you insisted on leaving. You reassured him multiple times that you’d be alright, kissed him, grabbed your cardigan and left.

That’s how you ended up in your current position, sobbing into your cardigan sleeve as the night grew colder and colder. You were still walking along the road to your house.

You hadn’t realized how cold it was when you left. Maybe it’s because you;d been sitting up against JJ, his body heat mixing with yours to help keep the both of you warm. Now, you were all alone, with nothing but your thin cardigan to protect you from the chill of october night.

As you walked, and cried, you wondered what it would be like to just stop breathing.

Your thoughts were halted by the sound of footsteps pounding the pavement behind you. Immediately, you tensed up, suddenly scared. Who was running on the streets late at night, besides her? Who had a reason, other than kidnapping or killing someone?

You turned slowly around, and your body relaxed as you realized you recognized the person barreling towards you.

A familiar blonde boy was running in your direction, seemingly desperate to catch up with you. You stopped walking, giving him time to meet you.

“JJ?” You were talking as soon as he was close enough to hear. “What are you doing, babe? You’re supposed to be at the party.”

“I’m walking you home. I’ll go back once I know you’re safe.” He explained. He looked almost triumphant at the fact that he’d caught up with you, but his expression changed to one of concern after he got a good look at your face.

“Y/N… have you been crying?”

You shook your head, almost in instinct, but he saw right through you.

“Yes, you have. Baby, what’s wrong? Did one of us say something? What happened?”

As you looked in his eyes, those beautiful blue orbs as rocky and deep as the ocean, you felt your mask begin to slip.

“I’m not okay, J. I haven’t been for a long time.” Your voice cracked as you spoke, and the tears came almost immediately after you’d finished.

JJ took you into his arms and held you close, and for a moment, the two of you just stood there on the side of the road.

JJ let you sob for a little while, just holding you and murmuring sweet words to you. Eventually, he pulled away and looked directly into your eyes.

“I’m here for you, okay? We’ll get through this, my love. I don’t know exactly what’s going on yet, but we’ll figure it out. Together. I promise. I love you so much, Y/N. So fucking much.”

He pulled you back into his chest, and in that moment, it dawned on you.

This wasn’t the end. This pain wouldn’t last for evermore. It would pass, and JJ would be there with you when it did.

So, for the first time in a while, you finally felt okay.

~~~~

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Reblogs are super helpful and super appreciated. LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH!

Happy holidays! - Lillia

#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank fanfiction #outer banks #outer banks fanfiction #jj maybank fanfic #outer banks fanfic #jj maybank one shot #jj maybank angst

[himitsukki]

𝙩𝙨𝙪𝙠𝙞𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙢𝙖 𝙠𝙚𝙞 // 𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙘𝙚𝙣𝙩

warnings: none! (now edited <333)

wc: 1,927

happy birthday, my little flirefly.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ☼ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

when you first met tsukishima kei, you thought he was an asshole.

now, as your boyfriend of almost two years, he’s still an asshole… that you love.

it always comes off as a surprise when you inform people about your relationship, because, quite frankly, you both seem like polar opposites: you’re a person who can calm people’s hearts with just your presence. you always try to  offer help, and you try your best to be nice, because you know the world needs it. and, it’s always free of charge.

tsukishima, on the other hand…

“i told that bastard to get away from you at lunch.“

“kei!“ you scold him with his name. “i told you before, he’s not doing anything bad!“ your boyfriend continues to complain about your classmate who “keeps staring at you”, ranting so fast that you can barely understand his words through the sounds of the video chat.

despite the fact that he always picks the video chat option over the voice call whenever he calls you at night, it’s almost always just him doing his homework, with his phone leaned against the wall, or him doing his chores from around the house, with the back camera on and his phone tucked into the waistband of his shorts; you can’t recall having a total “proper” one-on-one video chat with him, with your phones directly in front of you and replicating a face-to-face conversation .

you’ve grown accustommed to his antics, however, and grown to love how it feels so domestic to just casually ask each other about your days. you even keep track of his chores in the tsukishima hoursehold, especially after the incident when his mother told him to turn the oven off after fifteen minutes and he forgot because he was in the middle of arguing what the correct answer was to that day’s homework.

you’re currently folding laundry on your bed and decided that while you’re at it, you’ll reorganize your entire wardrobe. you had your phone rested on top of two pillows and leaned against the headboard, you took a seat by the lower half of the bed to have you visible in your camera, but with various clothes thrown atop your sheets and pillows and even draping on your headboard, you’ve lost sight of your phone. you can only hear the slightly muffled voice of your boyfriend, now that it’s buried somewhere deep in your clothes.

“hurry up already, we still have homework to do.“

“i’m sorrryy!“ you whined, quickening your pace at folding your shirts into a neat pile. “i don’t know why i even decided to do this, this is a complete waste of time.”

“at least your closet will be organized,“ he tries to reason. you whine that it’ll only stay that way for a couple of weeks, and he tells you you’re an idiot because you’ll be the one at fault for that.

“just the jackets and sweatshirts left, then i’ll be done,“ you inform him after a few minutes of silence. it’s not rare for the two of you to be silent while calling each other; both of you actually enjoy the silence, and neither of you feel obligated to fill the silence with talking, especially if it’s just about nonsense. it’s just nice that he’s still with you despite the day having ended and that he’s one bus ride away from you.

“do you still have that jacket? the one i gave you when you dug out my closet a few weeks ago?“

“uhh...” you ruffle through the remaining clothes on top of your bed. “is it the purple one? with the cresent moon at the—“

“—back of the hood? yeah.“ you fished out the said jacket and tried it on, enjoying the impossibly soft material that’s only possible through years of constant wearing. 

it fits perfectly.

“it still bothers me how ten year old you and current me most likely have the same size.“

“you’re just small and short,“ he snorts. “i bet it’s even slightly loose on you, especially at the sleeves.“

“yeah,“ you agree as you pull the cuff of the sleeve to their maximum potential without stretching the fabric too much. “it’s hanging just a little bit past the tips of my fingers.“

“you’re forever a shortcake, [name].“

“listen, i never asked to be short, okay?“ you complain, but you can’t deny that you’re smiling as you joke around with your boyfriend.

it’s beyond comforting that he’d given you his clothing from his childhood. you didn’t even ask for it (as you do with his other clothing), but you remember organizing his closet and seeing a pile of clothes that he “kept” from childhood, and when you asked him about it, he pulled out what he said was his favorite,  gave it to you with a teasing smirk and said “you’d definitely fit in this.“

“hey,“ he starts. “hurry up.“ you dismiss him by sticking out your tongue even though you know he doesn’t see you, but tsukishima knows you too much to actually do that reaction, then scolds you for being childish while teasing you about doing that even he can’t even see it.

“heeeeey.” he drags. “it’s almost nine pm.”

“i know, i only have the jackets left. sorry,” you mumbled a genuine apology, aware that tsukishima’s tired from class and volleyball practice. how he’s able to balance being a student athlete while claiming to “not care about the sport”, you’ll never know.

“hey,” he starts once again.

“last two jackets, i promise—“

“i love you.“ you nearly drop the last jacket from your hands and look over where your phone is, finally locating it with it’s screen facing the sheets; his voice was low and muffled, but you heard it loud and clear. slowly, you reached for your phone, turned it over and see him properly facing the camera, his head turned to the side with his eyes checking up his screen for your reaction every few seconds.

“that’s unfair, you’re telling me that over call? and i wasn’t even in the video chat?“

“it’s rare that i even tell you ‘i love you’ and you complain about it?” he asks, his voice monotonous but his lips growing into a small that you’ve only seen him do when he’s really happy. “unbelievable.“

“i’m done with the clothes,“ you announce, placing your phone back to its initial spot as you transfer the piles of clothes back into your closet.

“great, it only took you almost an hour, congrats shortcake.“

“thanks, asshole. you’re the best boyfriend ever.“

the night continues on with doing your homework together (and fighting over which formula to use because you’re in different classes and have different teachers, for some reason) and just before you get ready for sleep, you let the call run a little longer as you do your night time routine.

“do you actually do this everyday?“ he asks when you tell him every step of your skincare routine. “i only do the basics. that’s so tiring to do everyday.”

“you’re complaining and you’re not even the one doing it… ‘kay then.“ you jokingly roll your eyes at him as you gently pat your final layer of moisturizer on your skin. “at least i’m taking care of my skin. they’re a wonderful organ.“

“okay, weirdo.“

he proceeds to continually pester you to go to bed as it’s almost eleven, and you both have to get up at five so you can meet up an hour later at his house (his mom adores you) and walk to school together, but you ignore him and his groans of complaint as you slow your pace to annoy him even further (then he threatens to end the call, so you run to your bedroom and flop down on your bed immediately.)

“end the call. i’m tired, i wanna sleep.“

“you know you’re suppossed to go all “nooo, i don’t wanna end the call” or “you end the call, hehe” right, kei?“ he glares at you through the screen, and you can only laugh in response since his cheeks are squished on one side of his face as  he’s lying down on his side. instead of intimidating, he looks adorable.

“i’m too tired to even lift a finger,“ he says as he closes his eyes. for almost a minute, you let the call drag on, enjoying the comforting sound of his breathing and the sight of his relaxed face.

it’s rare enough to see him so unguarded and at ease; it’s in moments like these where you continuously remind yourself to appreciate and be thankful of every little thing in your relationship. 

that being said…

“hey,“ you start. he hums a reply, but you won’t take that as an answer.

“hey,“ you start once again.

“what? i was already enjoying the silenc—“

“i love you.” the second you see his eyes open, you rush to greet him a goodnight as best as you can without giggling before immediately ending the call and muting your notifications for that app until five am.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ☼ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

tomorrow starts smoothly with a wake-up call from tsukishima, your monring already complete with the sight of his bloated face and crusty eyes. he knows that you don’t care about his appearance, so he lets you see his worst visuals (in your eyes, however, he’s still unfairly handsome with all of that.)

you quickly got ready for the day; time flew by fast, and soon you’re ringing the doorbell at his gate, waving and greeting at his mom (who’s also the same thing) and greeting your boyfriend a good morning by taking out his (well, now your) jacket from last night.

he eyes you as you put it on. he’s unable to surpress his smile when he sees that the sleeves are, indeed, hanging a bit past your fingertips.

“i told you, you’re be forever a shortcake.”

“you’ve called me "shortcake” so many times, it doesn’t really mean like an insult anymore,“ you noted out loud, looking up at him through your lashes. "it doesn’t even sound like a word anymore.”

“well you are a shortcake, shortcake.”

“annoying,” you playfully chide him with a roll of your eyes. at that action, he scoffs and grabs you by the sleeves, pulling you closer and reminding you to bring out your (matching) headphones since he’ll be plugging in the audio splitter.

“what do you wanna listen to?” you hum as you think about it, but tell him to go for whatever he feels like.

you let the clean tones from the guitar relax you, enveloping you in an atmosphere where you feel like you’re starring in an anime or some kind of movie. honestly, you feel as you are in one, because you know your type of  relationship isn’t all that usual, complete opposites and all. 

with the leaves turning orange and falling slowly around you, the visuals only supplement the atmosphere, the song sounding like the OST to your and tsukishima’s story.

suddenly, you feel his finger nudging itself between the gaps of your fingers and trapping one of them in it’s grasp. looking down, you see his pinky bent at the joints to hold your little finger captive. it’s shaped like a crescent.��

looking up, you see him audibly clearing his throat, awkwardly looking away when he sees you noticing. the faint blush on his cheeks makes you laugh, and you feel the atmosphere increase tenfold.

you’ll happily be in any movie, only if it’s him by your side.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ☼ ⋅.} ────── ⊰ 

m.list

#haikyuu!! #haikyuu #hq!! #hq #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq!! x reader #hq x reader #tsukishima kei #tsukishima #tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima hq #tsukishima fluff #haikyuu fluff #hq fluff #karasuno #karasuno fluff #ch: tsukishima #g: fluff #t: oneshot #ye this is a late bday gift #u got a prob with that #??? #SUE ME I WAS BUSY #SKJSKJSKJKJS #i would've made the wc 927 #to match with his bday date #but i was already 1.5k in #sad noises

[alighieri-sparda]

I’m keeping your promise | Vergil x Reader

Summary: Vergil promised he would see you soon. But you got tired of waiting for him.

Kindly requested by @blackenedskykai​ ♡ | Masterlist | Rules | Read on AO3! 

Hello, Kai! I missed writing your requests, my dear. They are always so nice to write down the first ideas and complete it, so thanks a lot! Hope to see you here again. ♡ This prompt didn’t exist on the original list, but I wrote it anyway because your idea is amazing (and very cute!).  And... I’m sorry for the delay, again. xD 

By the way, I made some changes to my posting pattern. Let me know if you liked it or if you have any suggestions.

- - - - - - 

These warm sheets were no longer effective in keeping you comfortable. You tried to relax your body and mind once you decided to rest your back in some pillows and read a book, but it was all in vain. Your mind quickly diverted your attention out from those old written words in your book, of which you couldn’t understand any of the meaning they were trying to convey, no mattered how many times you read the same sentences.

To make that situation even worse, your kitty Shadow suddenly showed up, crawling her little claws on the mattress and meowing to get your attention. That little black cat was probably wanting something from you.

You sighed, taking that chance to finally give up on your attempt to read that book. Shadow kept her constant meow until you got that little feline body in your hands, gently carrying her in your arms to pet her in the bed.

“You’ve been so noisy those days, Shadow.” You softly baby-talked to her. Your heart melted in love when Shadow started to purr, slowly blinking that little green eyes to enjoy your coziness. “What do you want, hm? Tell me.”

But she suddenly started to gradually shake her body in your arms in a silent ask to break free from your touch. You frowned in confusion, but you quickly understood what was going on with her once you noticed what she did when she left your arms.

She arranged herself on Vergil’s side of your shared bed, resting her little body on his pillow.

“Oh… Yeah, Shadow, I miss him too.” You murmured, petting her head again.

This situation made you remember the promise Vergil made to you before he went to his office two days ago: “Don’t worry, I’ll see you again soon.” Having Vergil with you every day, living and sleeping together at the same apartment became part of your routine already; so, you were pretty used to see Vergil constantly busy. But you never got accustomed to dealing with the lack of his presence when he needed to go to his office at Devil May Cry.

It all started because of research that Vergil needed to do for a job that Dante recently accepted. You held back your complaints when you first heard Dante asking for his brother’s help, but Vergil knew that you were bothered about that. Therefore, before he left, he kissed your forehead and promised those words in a soft tone.

But you got tired of waiting for him.

Before doing anything, you checked the time. It was still early at night — it wouldn’t be awkward if you showed up at the shop at six, right? — and Dante wasn’t accepting any customers after 5 PM anyway. The shop wasn’t that far from your house though, so it wouldn’t take you more than ten minutes to be there safely.

And once you were sure that you wouldn’t bother anyone going there now and that the time was safe enough for you to walk the streets alone, you quickly got out of your bed and started looking for some clothes to deal with the cold outside.

Shadow seemed to guess that you were about to see Vergil and went behind you, following your steps with her little fleet-footed paws. She was meowing again, but this time, she sounded almost happy to you.

“Don’t worry, little one.” You smiled at the kitty right behind your feet as she meowed back. “I’ll let him know that you miss him too.”

 […]

 Just like you expected, you arrived at Devil May Cry in ten minutes. Along the way, you became more and more anxious as you were getting closer to the shop; and once you knocked twice on the front door, your heart raced at full speed. You knew that Vergil wouldn’t answer the door, and it made you feel even more impatient to see him.

You felt your body even colder than before, and an intense shiver ran down your spine to remember your condition. Not only because you were feeling anxious, but also due to the cold weather. Although you were wearing a comfortable coat and jeans, a scarf, gloves, and boots, they didn’t seem to be enough to keep you warm.

“We’re closed!” You heard Dante’s voice shouting from inside the shop.

“It’s me, Dante!” You answered his warning in a happy tone. When you finished your sentence, you immediately heard quick footsteps coming from the inside and getting closer to the door.

“[Name]?” He asked when he opened one of the doors, only wearing sweatpants — you knew Dante didn’t feel cold due to his demonic blood, but you couldn’t help being surprised. He clearly wasn’t expecting anyone to visit him. You also noticed Dante was happy to see you but seemed sort of confused as well. “Good evening, pretty human. Lost your way back home?” He grinned at you, resting his weight on the door.

You laughed back. “Good evening, Dante. I… came here to see someone, actually. Hope you don’t mind me.”

“Nah, don’t worry. It’s always good to see you here.” Dante moved aside, silently asking you to enter the shop. “Come inside. You’ll freeze out there.”

You stepped inside the main hall and took a deep breath when you felt a sudden warmth embrace your cold body. The room was quite dark, the only intense light was coming from Vergil’s office, passing through the door openings. Dante closed the front door behind you and started making his way back to his bedroom.

“His office is unlocked; I just spoke to him.” Dante yawned, lazily stretching his body. “That nerd is damn focused on his books so take care not to scare him.”

He winked at you before locking himself in his room again. “Or maybe not.”

And then Dante closed his bedroom door, leaving you alone in the hall.

Spending no more time, you took some quiet steps towards Vergil’s office door. You even raised your hand to knock on the door once you got in front of it and announce that you were about to join him, but you abruptly prevented yourself from knocking on it.

It would be way more fun if you just surprise him, right?

To be sure you wouldn’t get caught before the right time, you gently held the door handle and moved it down as carefully as you could, pressing the door with your weight to open it gradually. When your gaze caught the sight of Vergil, you realized that Dante couldn’t be more certain about what he said: Vergil he was standing in front of a bookshelf, his back to the door, clearly interested in what he was reading.

You closed the door behind you with your feet as your body quietly slid into the room. When you noticed that Vergil didn’t move anything but his fingers to go to the next page of his book, a content smile crossed your face. He was probably going to be sort of annoyed because you went there alone, but you needed to keep the promise he made to you.

After some steps, you were finally close enough to Vergil. You thought of hugging him from beside and try to support your head on his shoulder at first — and you were going to need to stand on tiptoe to do so —, but you were just a few steps from his face. And when you realized that, a better idea crossed your mind.

This time, you didn’t even worry about not making any noise. You placed a hand over his arm, and before he could react to it, you finally faced him, cupping his face with your other hand and finally kissing his lips. You needed to stand on tiptoe anyway since Vergil usually curves his body a bit to kiss you, but you didn’t mind it at all.  

Although you could feel a little surprised gasp coming from him, Vergil just replaced the book back on the shelf whilst he joined your kiss properly, holding his arms around your waist to bring you closer to him. The cold sensation of anxiety started to leave your body, relaxing your muscles as you enjoyed the taste of Vergil’s lips again.

It was only an extended peck, but the sensation of his soft and warm lips over yours was pleasant enough for a ‘hello’ kiss.

Vergil was the one who separated the kiss. He looked at you with a soft smile on his lips, yet he frowned his eyebrows.

“What are you doing here, [Name]?” He asked softly, brushing his fingers through your hair.

“I’m keeping your promise, Vergil.” You touched his lips with yours again, but quickly this time.

“Excuse me?” He seemed genuinely confused.

“You promised me you’d see me soon, but I got a little impatient and decided to keep this for you.”

He chuckled.

“I see. I was expecting to finish the research tomorrow morning, but I think I’m finishing it tonight… With your help, of course.” Vergil winked at you, and couldn’t help but giggle when you grumbled at his words.

He left your hair and started to caress your cheek with his thumb, knitting a brow as he felt your skin colder than normal compared to the temperature of the place.

“Why are you that cold? Are you sure you were wearing this scarf since you left home?” His tone was concerned, even though it sounded almost like a complaint.

“I took ten minutes to get here, and it’s really cold outside. But it wouldn’t stop me from seeing you.” You sighed. A sudden wave of desire sprawled through your body, and you couldn’t help hugging the man in front of you, missing his embrace. He quickly realized that and held you tightly. His lovely warmth comforting your body made you sigh cheerfully. “I missed you.”

“I’m sorry to keep you waiting, love.” He kissed your head, leaving his lips barely over your hair. “But don’t expose yourself like that again, okay? I wouldn’t like to see you in danger just because I took too long to come back home.”

This sentence of his proved that you were right about his discomfort about you going there all alone, but you didn’t expect him talking about that in a so gentle tone.

“I will always keep that promise to you, [Name]. No matter how long it takes, I will always come back. Don’t worry.” His whisper sounded like he was speaking from the bottom of his heart. He spoke to you sincerely a few times during your relationship, and you could tell that was another one of them.

You stepped back only to kiss him again. You knew that you were going to read a lot of old books to help him with his research, so you wanted to enjoy that moment as much as you could. This kiss wasn’t different from the previous one, but this time, Vergil held you even closer, with one hand holding your waist and the other touching the backside of your neck.

You took a bit longer to separate this kiss. Both you and Vergil could stay like that for hours, but he still had some work to be finished.

“Guess it’s time to read some books.” You giggled.

“Precisely.” Vergil grinned at you, finally breaking the embrace completely to go back to the book he was reading. “I’m not far from finishing it though, so I think we’re coming back home in one hour.”

“I hope so, because Shadow is missing you as much as I was.” You quickly checked out the content of his book by looking at its cover and then started to look for some similar ones. “She has been such a noisy kitten since you left. Probably calling for you.”

You heard a heartened hum coming from Vergil. That little black kitty was a weak spot of Vergil as much as you were, and you knew that pretty well.

“Dante needs some help with old demonic rituals. Better check that another bookshelf, because I want to see Shadow tonight.” He explained, pointing to the shelf beside which he was standing.

While you were searching for the right books on the shelf Vergil pointed, you couldn’t stop thinking about what Vergil said to you. Well, now you were sure that he would keep his promise at any cost.

You smiled unconsciously. Although you couldn’t see it, Vergil was doing the same.

#almost 2100 words oh gosh #i love fluff :c #also KITTY SHADOW!!!! #yea i'm a cat person don't mind me #dmc #dmc imagines #devil may cry #devil may cry imagines #dmc vergil #vergil x reader

[youcouldmakealife]

LBTE: Jared (an interlude)

I re-examined my emails like I re-examine my updates. Please enjoy me, almost three years ago, having FUN.

(Massive spoilers for the latest part of IJ(aoe))

THE BEGINNING!!! (as far as I have been able to ascertain via email and keywords, though ‘Bryce Canucks trade’ has had....many threads because my good buddy who endures every spoiler my flighty little head thinks up also endures my RL hockey rants, and like, let’s just give up the pretense at this point, I’m a Canucks fan. Julius Halla is the closest thing in this ‘verse to fanfiction (I don’t even hide it!). Ironically the RL Canucks have a Finn on their team whose initials actually make him OJ. He ain’t the Canuck this character’s modelled on. That one’s obvious to anyone with even a casual relationship to hockey.)

It is very cute that the email thread this all started with is called ‘oh no’ and began with:

“Of course Bryce has turned the gifting of the disaster necklace from hilarious to fucking heartbreaking. I should have guessed.“ 

Of COURSE this all begins with Bryce swerving left into heartbreaking when I expected him to go right into comedy. OF COURSE.  

Me, at 5:27 PM June 11:

(Maybe, long in the future when it isn't massive spoilers and I have 100% decided it's canon (though I am at at least 80% leaning toward Jared and Bryce, Eventual Canucks Together)

Me, 11 minutes later, clearly fully enamoured:

AND JARED AND STEPHEN, SNARKMATES.

EXCEPT. GO BACK A DAY. I was already right into negotiations when I first considered all this.

July 10th, 2018 4:07 PM:

Still thinking long term about the circumstances of them getting to the Canucks. Jared could easily be part of a package, especially if he's been playing well for the Oilers/Oil Kings, a two depth players and a prospect (Jared) for a decent D, because the Oilers lack that and if Vancouver's aging a prospect of Jared's calibre would be well received. So it's really down to Bryce: he's probably going to sign a hefty contract at the end of this season considering how well he's playing during it, coming into his own on the ice the way they wanted him to, so I can't see less than a five year deal there, probably with a modified NTC of the 'ten exceptions' variety. I don't see him waiting until UFA for that move, so it'd have to be a trade, one Bryce pushes for. Hmmm.

Switched to Bakersfield when the RL NHL changed their feeder teams and made a more restrictive NTC, but 2018 Taylor was SCHEMING. Bryce hadn’t even signed his six year contract (or asked Jared’s parents for permission to propose when Jared was barely 18, Bryce Is Extra) when I was figuring out the long-term ramifications of the Flames contract in getting these kids back together.

(Other scheming, July 4, 2018: 

“IDEA: Chaz's prospect rights get traded as a small piece in a big trade to Flames. Chaz slowly realising Jared's disaster boyfriend BJ and Bryce are the same person. Chaz cannot. Chaz and Bryce? Frands?”)

August 2, 2018: 

I really do need to iron out in my head when exactly that Canucks trade is happening. Jared will still be in his ELC for sure, it'll be post-Hitmen and probably post-some subbing in after Mike's final concussion, so late summer when he's twenty to Bryce's twenty four?

WAIT. THAT IS...RIGHT NOW. THAT'S AUGUST 2018. HAPPY 24TH BIRTHDAY BRYCE, FOLLOW YOUR HUSBAND.

(Can see Dave very, very longsufferingly doing a complicated move that involves Calgary trading Bryce somewhere in the East, and the East flipping Bryce over to the Canucks like three hours later, because no fucking way the Flames are giving Bryce to a divisional rival.)

(I ended up off by two years, but I pulled through)

[thedumpsterqueen]

Standards of Performance, Chapter 9: Hesitancy

From the Beginning,  Previous Chapter

AO3 Link

Changing the chapter naming scheme; my brain can't handle two-word summaries anymore. This one is a lil short but very soft and I promise relationship progress is made. As always, I hope you love it. <3

Summary: You’re the BAU’s newest intern, desperate to prove yourself amongst an established team of much more experienced profilers. Agent Hotchner, the seemingly infallible team leader, sets strict expectations for your performance. He commands your respect without even trying, but is there something more to your relationship than a simple desire to impress your stony-faced boss?

Chapter Summary:  “Are you prepared for this to go south?” he asked, eyes boring into yours.

“Why would it?”

Words: 1962

Rating: Explicit, 18+. Warnings on AO3.

Pairings: Hotch x Reader, Hotch x You

There was no way in hell you could go into work today.

You didn’t actually have a choice, which is why you’d driven there. But you simply couldn’t command your feet to walk you into that office, towards the teams’ inquisitive stares and deductive skills that were closer to mind-reading than you were entirely comfortable with. You’d adjusted and re-adjusted your lipgloss several times over in the mirror, brushed through your hair, and even though you knew there was no way the team could know what happened 20 minutes ago in the park, you felt like you might as well have been wearing a neon sign that said “Aaron Hotchner and I Just Kissed (On the Lips).”

So you were holed up in the parking garage of the FBI in your piece of shit 2007 Toyota Camry. Stalling.

You sighed when you felt your phone buzz, knowing what the notification was. You were only seven minutes late, but seven minutes was eight too many in Hotch’s book. You checked the message.

Hotch: Please come inside.

So he knew you were hiding out, then. You sighed and slammed the car door, trudging up the stairwell and into the building.

Exiting the elevator to your floor, you paused outside of the frosted glass doors leading to the BAU and tried to still your breathing. Despite Hotch’s apparent instant regret and quick departure occupying the forefront of your mind, you still couldn’t stop thinking about how perfect that kiss had been. The part of you that wasn’t filled with panic about his reaction was squealing like a little kid at the confirmation that holy shit, he liked you too. You took a deep breath, summoned every ounce of professionalism and composure you could muster, and walked in.

You made it less than halfway to your desk.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa; don’t just walk in here like I’m gonna let that slide.” Morgan swung his legs off his desk and stood up in front of you. “Every day you get in at least ten minutes early and now you’re walking in late looking like you got something to hide. Spill it.”

Your open-mouthed gaping by way of response was blissfully interrupted by Hotch calling your name from the balcony overlooking the bullpen.

“Garcia needs your help finishing up reports. Meet her in her office.”

You shrugged to Morgan. “Duty calls. Sorry!”

“Don’t think you’re getting off that easy!” he called after you as you scampered towards the safety of Garcia’s tech lair.

You knocked on her door, and she greeted you with her standard excess of enthusiasm.

“Come in! I’m just going through my keylogs for the past few cases and filling out reports of every database I had to access less-than-legally.” She shot you an evil grin. “Which is a lot. You can help me by typing up the information into the actual reports on your computer.”

Just happy to be away from the teams’ prying eyes, especially a certain someone’s, you nodded. “Let’s do it.”

***

Not half an hour had passed when Garcia swiveled towards you in her chair, clutching her pink feathered pen with a knowing glint in her eyes. “So. Tell me.”

“What?” you asked, trying to hide your shock with feigned innocence.

“Oh, honey, come on. I may not be a profiler, but I’ve picked up a couple things throughout the years. And I can tell something’s up.”

“God damn it,” you groaned and laid back in your chair. “I thought this was a no-profiling zone.”

She smiled even wider, if that was possible. “It is. But for you, my dear, I have made an exception.”

“Did Morgan put you up to this?”

“He may have possibly texted me telling me that you were late this morning.”

You rolled your eyes.

“But you’re never late! Even I know that! So -” she scooted closer and lowered her voice conspiratorially, “- spill.”

Sighing, you weighed your options. The last thing you wanted to do was create drama and jeopardize your position, much less Hotch’s reputation, but you were itching to tell someone - if only to get their opinion on the matter. And it wasn’t as if you had anyone else to talk to…

“Fine!”

Garcia rapidly motioned her hands to signify you to continue.

“But you can’t tell anybody, okay? I’m serious, Penelope.”

“Not even-”

“Especially not Morgan.”

She pouted but reluctantly agreed, and you took a deep breath and told her everything.

How you’d developed an innocent crush at first, how it had spiraled out of control, how you’d visited his apartment and he’d told you about his past, and finally, how he’d kissed you in the park just that morning. You stopped, awaiting her reaction, but she was uncharacteristically silent.

“...Garcia?”

She cleared her throat and leaned forward. “I’m sorry, are we talking about Aaron Hotchner, like Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner, like boss man Aaron Hotchner? Mr. Grumpy? Never smiles, always wears a suit, carries the weight of the world on his sculpted shoulders?”

You glared, waiting for her to finish.

“I’m sorry,” she giggled, “It’s just -” her voice softened, “- in the whole time I’ve known him, I’ve never seen him act like that. Bring someone coffee, breakfast, open up to them. The whole bit.”

Your heart fluttered more than you’d like to admit at that.

“Listen,” she continued, “I don’t have to tell you that life has not been kind to that man. And I’m not gonna give you the stupid speech about dating an older man or dating your boss, because I don’t give a shit. But I will tell you - he’s been through enough. So if this isn’t what you want, back out now.”

Her tone was kind, but the seriousness of her message was evident. You nodded in understanding.

“I get it, but I don’t think he’s the one that’s gonna end up getting hurt here.”

“Well, hopefully nobody will get hurt and you’ll both ride off into the sunset together. But you gotta talk to him first.” She ignored your pained groan. “I’m serious! Nothing good is going to come out of you guys dancing around this. People act really stupid when they’re pretending they’re not in love with each other.”

Cocking your eyebrow, you shot back, “Kinda like you and Morgan?”

She flushed scarlet and waggled her ostentatious pen in your direction. “Touché.”

***

The thought of being emotionally vulnerable to Hotch made you more nauseous than you’d like to admit, but the more you mulled over it, the more you realized Garcia was right. Hotch knew how you felt - your fervent response to the kiss had made that abundantly clear - so what did you have to lose, really?

(Besides your career and the respect of your boss, but you tried not to consider that possibility).

He’d kissed you, you reminded yourself as you tried to focus on reports.

He cares about you, you recited like a mantra as you waited for the workday to end.

He’s twice your age and a widower with a dead kid and your Unit Chief, you panicked in the bathroom as you avoided the knowing eyes of the rest of the team.

Still, 6 pm limped in eventually and you bid everyone a good night from your desk as they filtered out. Hotch, unsurprisingly, was not among them. You planned to wait until you two were alone in the office so you could approach him undisturbed.

What you didn’t expect was just how late he worked - it was nearly 9 by the time he locked up his office, briefcase in hand, and turned to see you still sitting at your desk.

“Oh,” he said. You tried to decipher the tone of the syllable - surprised? Pleased? Indifferent? But came up short.

“I thought we could talk,” you offer cautiously.

“About wha-” he began, then seemed to think better of pretending he didn’t know and sighed. “You’re right. We should.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but he beat you to it. “I wanted to apologize for my actions this morning. I took advantage of a situation where you felt comfortable spending time with me outside of the office, and I should have never let it get that far. If you want to speak to Strauss about transferring units, I completely understand.”

You gaped at him. Was it truly possible for a man this astute, this in-tune with human behavior, to be this stupid?  

“Is that what you think this is?” you asked, practically launching yourself out of your seat from the sheer force of your bewilderment. “You think you took advantage of me? That I just went along with it because you’re my boss or something?”

The barely concealed shame in his eyes answered not only that question, but also the one you’d asked yourself beforehand - no, Hotch wasn’t stupid. He was broken. He was filled with so much self-hatred that the only explanation he could concoct as to why you were spending so much time with him was the one where you were trying to avoid offending your creepy, older boss. The realization filled you with such heartbreak that you nearly choked on your next words.

“Aaron,” you started, and it was strange how well a name you’d never before dared to say fit in your mouth, “I’ve -”

Don’t say loved.

“- liked you since that case in San Diego. I don’t know how you haven’t figured that out, considering the fact that I wake up an hour early every morning - I hate mornings, by the way - to get coffee with you. But I like you. And I know for a fact you feel the same way, so don’t try to pretend like you did after the bar.”

The number of times Hotch had been rendered speechless in his lifetime could be counted on one hand, and this made the list. You waited for him to respond, and he did, finally, in the most muted voice you’d ever heard him use.

“It isn’t right.”

“Please,” you implored, taking a step closer to him. “Don’t do that. You’re not going to talk me out of this, and I’d appreciate it if you’d stop trying to talk yourself out of it too.”

“I’m your Unit Chief,” he said, his voice regaining the power that usually accompanied that statement, “and I’m old enough to be your father.”

“And I’m an adult fully capable of making her own decisions,” you responded.

“The practicalities; they’d be a mess. Informing the Bureau, the team…”

“Would I have to quit my internship?” you asked, your only genuine hesitancy surrounding the situation.

“Well, no,” he shook his head slowly, “but we'd be subject to a much higher level of scrutiny.”

“I’m prepared to be scrutinized.”

“Are you prepared for this to go south?” he asked, eyes boring into yours.

“Why would it?”

He didn’t say anything, but you could tell what he was thinking. A man like him, someone who carried more than a few lifetimes of trauma and guilt, wasn’t someone to get involved with on a whim - for both of your sakes. This was more so the concern, you suspected, than anything he’d already mentioned.

“I know what I’m getting into, Hotch. I’m not expecting this to be easy.”

“Well, I -” he shifted uncomfortably, more visibly nervous than you’d ever seen him. “Can I least give you time to think about it?”

“Doubt I’ll be able to think about anything else,” you teased, and, with a sudden surge of courage, you stepped forward on your tiptoes to plant a feather-light kiss on his cheek.

The flush that spread up his neck was, decidedly, the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen.

Taglist: @stop-drop-and-drumroll @criminalmindzjunkie @xoprincessmel @cevanswhre @addie5264 (Message me if you want to be added!)

#aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #Criminal Minds #hotch x you #standards of performance #hotch #thomas gibson #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid #mgg #david rossi #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #derek morgan #penelope garcia #fanfiction #writing #ao3

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Cal and finding out you both are the missing pair to your costumes pls

A huge HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU BLANCA! Enjoy!

Halloween blurb night going until Oct. 31st at 8 PM PDT. 

Enjoy the masterlist for Halloween Blurb Night 2020

Enjoy my full masterlist.

__________________

It was Michael’s idea. That’s how Calum would up in this, reading the invitation email send to him, telling me to follow the specific directions for his costume. It gave no name to the character or to the show. Just a bulleted list underneath the not quite passable graphic that Michael probably made either in Photoshop or some equivalent. 

A white and black pinstriped suit jacket and pants (a black suit will also do as listed on the invitation), a black bowtie, a white dress shirt, and a fake mustache. It almost like pin straight too in the picture that’s obviously been screenshotted and pasted into the body. 

Michael wanted to do a Halloween party and the guys didn’t need much excuse to readily agree to supply with their presence, booze, and non-alcoholic choices for a party. The treats for working on during the year. The only caveat had been that Michael wanted to arrange for a couple’s theme--the trick if you asked Calum. 

He didn’t really have anyone to partner up with and he for sure wasn’t about to scroll through his phone for whoever was just as lonely as him. He could’ve asked you. Truth be told, you would’ve been at the top of his list. But he couldn’t bring himself to ask. Sure you two had hung out and were close--for God sake, you dog sat for Calum when he left for tour. He trusted you and adored you beyond belief. But he couldn’t bring himself to taking that any further. 

You always talked about the latest person in your string of attempts to date in LA after moving into the town about a year ago. Calum knew he could’ve made a move. Shit, he should’ve made a move. But timing never felt right. And who was Calum to push back against the waves and tides of the universe? 

And of course, Calum recounts his woes to Michael. 

You will have a partner, reads at the end of the email. You’ll thank me later. 

And of course, Michael wasn’t just listening to woes. 

When Calum returns walks up to Michael’s house two weeks later, stressed in his pinstriped suit, with a terribly itchy fake mustache, a black bow tie, and upon Michael’s request after Calum told Michael that he had acquired all the pieces to his costumed, Calum slicked back his hair. The gears in Calum’s brain were still trying to decipher what all this put together was, but he wasn’t mad at the attire in the least.

The door barely contains the thumping of music from inside and the second the door opens to Michael’s flushed face and bright smile, Calum is blasted with the rattle of bass. “You look good, dude!” Michael greets, waving Calum inside. 

“Thanks. I can follow instructions.” Initially glances over the room don’t show anyone dressed to match Calum. And he tries not to like that thought make his throat quiver and his hands shake. But it does. No doubt Michael has just randomly assigned partner. There’s no way. Calum is looking for you because finding you will answer the question, quell the anxiety that’s spiking. 

What had Michael planned? 

There’s no sign for a while in the living room, or in the kitchen, or in the backyard. The drink in Calum’s hand sits so long, sloshing at his fingers as he dances and shimmies through crowd to search for this partner that Calum’s sure more of the alcohol’s wound up on the floor than in his bloodstream. He tries to keep his mind pre-occupied, talking to the guys and dancing to the music, though he’s a self proclaimed shit dancer. But his gaze always wonders. 

“I’m so sorry!” you shout. 

Michael’s waving it off. “Don’t sweat it.” You’re nearly an hour late though the party looks like is just gearing into full swing. “Your partner’s here, so you’re fine. We just got started for real.”

“Where’s-where’s this partner?” 

“Last I saw of him, dancing. Outside? But that was ten minutes or so?” Michael shrugs, unsure of how long ago it was. That’s your only lead so you take it. Your heels click against the floor as you march deeper into the house. 

Calum’s shaking the drink from his hands, the last of it finally sloshing as he steps into the sea of other dancing bodies. He probably should’ve been paying more attention but it doesn’t matter now. Finally, stepping from from the crowd he spies you, black dress, a slit up the thigh, lips painted red. He curses his heart for fluttering. But god, you look amazing. 

Your attention is elsewhere, along the walls, flickering side to side as you stalk closer and closer to the door of the backyard. Calum bounds up the steps after being knocked into again by the outliers of the dancing crowd. You’re not leaving looking. One hand stretched out for the knob without seeing the door open. And ready to press your weight into the door, you stumble. “Whoops!” you laugh catching your balance and not missing the arm that wraps around you. 

“Careful.”

“Thanks.” You finally look up and see Calum. Half of the fake mustache is gone and his hair is slicked back. “Looks, uh, like you lost part of yourself there, Cal.” You reach up and peel off the other end of the mustache. 

“Oh,” his brows furrow and his gaze casts down as if he could actually see the missing piece. He chuckles, “Sorry.”

“Don’t have to apologize to me.” You slip out of his gaze just a little. “Who’s your partner?” It’s only as the question leaves your lips do yo start to take in his suit, and the bow tie. 

“They haven’t--”

“Me,” you answer interrupting the thought. 

“What?”

“You’re dressed as Gomez.” You wave over yourself, twirling a little in the black dress. “I’m Morticia.” Your heart races. You’re Calum’s other half. Oh shit. How did Michael know? He sent you an email with specifcs for your costume. But how did Michael know. You hadn’t told him a thing. You weren’t that obvious were you?

“Morticia?” Calum’s still not processing, not the characters at least. And he’s definitely not processing that his guess was right. He knew Michael was up to something. Just not this. Not really making you his partner.

“Addams Family.” You sing a bit of the theme song, in the hopes that it finally clicks for Calum. But he seems floored--gone even. “Hey, uh, is everything alright?”

He nods. “Yeah, yeah. Sorry. It just-just took me a second.”

You nod in return. “You look good though, Gomez.” 

Calum chuckles, kicking at the ground just a little. “You-you look really great by the way.” Calum’s quick to cut in, glancing up and reaching for your elbow. “I mean it. Really you look great.”

“Thank you.”

“Do you want a drink? By chance?” 

“Uh, yeah, sure.” You follow behind Calum back through the house and into the kitchen. The drink isn’t too heavy of a pour and you hang out in the kitchen a while, laughing as Calum recounts some story that you’re almost sure you’ve heard before but you can’t quite be sure so you just listen as he tells it. 

You suggest a dance as you down the the last of your drink. Calum hugs close to his drink, pressing into the counter. “Too shy? Or tuckered out?”

“I’m-I can’t dance. You know that.”

“Oh I’m not asking you to join Dancing With The Stars. Just dance with me please?”

He knows he can’t say no to you. With a nod, he downs the rest of his cup and follows behind you back outside. He doesn’t know how many songs the two of you dance to. It could be three, it could be forty--he doesn’t keep track at all. All he does know is that you laugh at every misstep of his and it sounds like magic in his ears. 

There’s a pause or two for drinks here and there. And maybe it’s just the buzzing of his head that finally cuts through the fog and tells him that who gives a fuck if it’s the right time. And you’re laughing, head thrown back just slightly leaning into his chest as you recount the fiasco of trying to find the right dress for this costume. The kitchen is empty, or maybe it’s full and Calum’s only paying attention to you. 

“Can I kiss you?” Calum asks, his brows are furrowed and his tongue wets his lips quickly. 

Your breath hitches as he hand cups your cheek. “Huh?”

“Can-can I kiss you? And you can totally say no. But-I-please?” The words aren’t coming out right and he’d almost be annoyed with himself but you stretch forward, lips pressing into his and words don’t matter. 

You kissing him, like actually kissing him and you can taste booze. But underneath that, what floats into your sense is the smell of his cologne. What buzzes your skin is the fact that he asked. Sure it was in the middle of your story, but you’ve been craving it since you noticed Calum in the fucking suit. 

And truth be told even though you had gone on dates and some went places you had always wanted to press your luck with Calum. But he always seemed busy or like his focus was on something different and you didn’t think you actually had a shot. But you still wanted to press. 

And now you’re pressed against the edge of counter in the kitchen. Your hands cup his face as a soft moan escapes you that Calum swallows. “There are bedrooms for this. Just not in my house,” Michael laughs, slamming down another 12 pack of coke onto the counter next to them. “Just not in my house.”

The two of you blush, but are slow to pull apart. “I was just waiting for another Coke,” you tease, your red manicured nails popping open a can. You offer a sip to Calum who takes it, smiling too as the stupid antic. 

“Refreshing, don’t you think?” Calum asks. 

#calum hood #calum hood fluff #calum hood imagine #calum hood fanfic #calum hood fic #calum hood x reader #calum hood x female reader #5sos #5sos fanfic #5sos fic #5sos blurb #5sos fluff #halloween blurb night 2020 #h writes #5 seconds of summer fanfic #5 seconds of summer #5 seconds of summer fic