#i worked across 2 pages on this one that’s why there’s a crease in the middle🤧

[drefear]

Art Reference pt. 2

Miguel x Reader

TW: Smut, rough rough sex, jealousy, pooty eating miguel is superior.

This was a request about reader being an artist and Miguel finding out that they tried drawing him naked and he says some sly shit about it, which results into the nasty nasty.

A/N: so it's not the bedroom mirror sexy, but it is some sweaty sexy with hints of jealous/possessive miguel. idk i wanted to combine it with the other idea I had. so i hope yall enjoy.

Part one here

The days since Miguel found your sketchbook we’re filled with relentless sex, constantly pinned under the gargantuan man and being his sexual relief. 

The Spider Society stayed business as usual.

At least to everyone else. 

But a few of the spiderwomen noticed something different about you. 

“Are those hickeys?” Jess asked, and your hand flew to your neck. Your face got a bit warm under your mask and you thanked the heavens that you’d just gotten back from hunting down an anomaly. She shook your head and laughed. 

“What? No no.” You denied and looked away, waving to Ben. 

“They look like hickeys.” She tilted her head and pressed on. 

“They are.” A voice came from behind you and you both looked up at Miguel, who was just standing there with a cup of coffee in hand, looking too relaxed for what he just admitted. 

“See, I knew they were!” Jess laughed and leaned towards you, making you edge backwards and laugh nervously. “So who are they?” 

“It’s Noir, right?” Another voice pipped up and you turned to see Pav sitting down next to you. 

Miguel’s face contorted as he watched you react. “Why would you think it’s him?” He asked and Pav smiled innocently. 

“Have you seen how Noir looks at her? And how much the two talk about her art?” Pav points to your sketchbook, opening to a page with both Jess and Noir on it. “And she’s always drawing him.” Your eyes stayed trained on Miguel as his brows creased with frustrations. His sights flashed back up from the page to you, making your body tingle a bit. 

“So I’m right, right?” Pav spoke up again and you just cleared your throat, gathering the papers and pencils you’d played across the table. 

“I-I have work to do, I’ll talk to you guys later.” You mumbled under your breath and ora tu ally ran away. Once you were gone, Pav puffed out his chest. 

“I’m definitely right.” 

Miguel huffed as he stood in front of his screens a bit later, grouchy as ever. He felt a presence behind him and glanced, seeing Jess looming in the doorway. 

“They’re your hickeys, right?” She concluded and he just grunted in confirmation. She walked closer and he stayed hunched over his desk, not moving his eyes from the moving screens. “Is it serious?” His silence was the only answer she got as she let out a pent up breath of understanding. 

You two hadn’t discussed what you were doing, you just enjoyed what was going on. Or that’s what Miguel was doing. 

He had no idea what you were thinking. 

“Does Spider Noir actually have a crush on her?”

“Of course he does, half of the spider people here do. She’s incredible and smart, funny and creative.” Jess went on about your traits and Miguel just found himself getting more and more upset. “But she’s spending her time with you. So don’t fuck it up.” Jess said and turned to leave, then added as she walked. “She might have others wanting her attention soon, so step up to the plate.” And then the motorcyclist was gone, leaving Miguel to his thoughts. 

“She’s right, ya know.” Miguel heard Lyla say and just groaned. He’d talk to you about it soon, he just didn’t want to say  the wrong thing. 

Two days later, Miguel had asked you to train with him a bit. He loved being around you and the two of you began doing mundane everyday activities together. To your surprise, MIguel actually had a sense of humor and smiled a lot when he wasn’t surrounded by people constantly chattering about things he found unimportant. 

So you two decided to go to the gym together. It was something you’d done before, so today was no exception. 

You started before he got there, moving to the weight rack and grabbing a few to start, slowly building up to a heavier pair. He walked in and saw you doing some squats with the weights and his eyes found something he wasn’t prepared to see. 

You had camel toe. And he loved it. 

Seeing the outline of your tight pussy made him bite his tongue to keep from acting out right here in the middle of his gym. The way you squatted and the lips moved slightly, covered by the blue spandex of your gym shorts made him lick his own lips. 

He moved in next to you and made himself a little area near yours, beginning to focus on his own workout routine. 

But he couldn’t. 

Not when every time you walked away, all he thought about was diving into your sweet pussy and tasting your juices mixed with the musky sweat you’d been working up since you’d gotten here. His eyes practically rolled back at the thought of eating you out right here on the bench press, and he tried to subtly adjust his gym shorts. Closing his eyes, he shook his head and stood up. He grabbed your arm and pulled you aside, bending down to whisper. 

“We’re leaving.” He announced and you were stunned, speechless. You’d been there for less than an hour, was he upset? 

You followed him out, not daring to question him, and let him take you home. The car ride was silent as well, and the threads of doubt ran through your mind like a wild cheetah. Had you done something? Was this it? Was this the moment you’d been dreading, when he finally cut things off and told you it was all a mistake? 

Meanwhile, Miguel was trying anything to hide his painful and obvious erection. You were either much more oblivious to how he felt about you than he’d initially thought, or being courteous so as to not make him feel embarrassed about being a grown man with a boner. He stomped into his apartment and stood by his dinner table, as you just shut the door behind him and waited to hear what he had to say. 

He moved to face you and pinched the meat of your hips a bit, then bending down to get on his knees and glancing upward at you. 

“God, I couldn't help it.” He moans and buries his nose into your clothed cunt. “You just look amazing.” His voice was splintered with lust as he begged. “I want to eat you out through these fucking leggings.” He lifted your hips and planted you on the dining table, licking against the middle of your pants. You gasped and leaned back on one hand as he rubbed his nose against your clit and you shook slightly. The middle of your workout pants were now soaked with his saliva, nipping the fabric with his teeth and sucking you through it. 

“Smells amazing, tastes amazing. Could see the outline of my cunt while you were at the gym.” He grunted, rutting slightly against the chair next to him. “Yeah, this is my cunt. Mine to lick and fuck, no one else’s, not even fucking Noir.” He hissed and you began to understand where this had come from. 

“Noir?” You questioned before sucking in a sharp breath while he put your spandex covered thighs on his shoulders. 

“Mmm, that black and white cabrón. He couldn’t handle this pussy, the way you clamp down on me and make it hard to fuck you. He couldn’t make you scream for hours, like how only I can. Solo mia.” Miguel rambled, as he did often hen he was in the process of fucking you somehow. “Just you, Miguel- fuck.” You nodded as your fingers found his hair and tangled into the roots. He let his claws out for a second before moving his talons and ripping down the center of the leggings, letting the cool air blow onto your exposed cunt. “So wet…” He marveled and bit his lip. You whined out and stared down at the shredded fabric in his hands. “I’ll get you new ones, just let me fucking have this pussy.” 

His red eyes looked as if you could swim in them, deadly and focused on you. You clenched around nothing as he continued to watch how your muscles moved, mesmerized by how needy you looked writhing on his table with your most intimate area in his face. His nose nudged against your clit and electric shocks sparked through your spine, making you arch your back in pleasure and a growl rumbled through his chest. 

“He’s too vanilla for you, isn’t that right?” He cooed and dragged a hand up your torso, then back down to your thigh by his head and sinking his claws into the skin, making angry red marks appear. You gasped and nodded with haste. 

“Yes! Yes, yes…” You repeated the word like a prayer as he smirked and languidly lapped at your folds. You felt gross, sweaty from your brief workout and letting him eat you out this way. “Miguel- wait-” You pushed his head a bit, now insecure, and he nipped at the skin in the crease of your inner thigh. “Ah!” 

“Are you trying to push me away, mi corazon? Don’t you want me to tongue-fuck you?” His hands gripped your thighs tighter and slid your squirming body back down towards his face. You mewled and nodded. 

“But- Miguel, I’m sweaty and-” 

“That’s what I want.” He stated, as if it was as plain as day and wrapped his lips around your heat once more, tongue shooting inside of you and exploring around to find where made you scream the loudest. His teeth grazed your clit and there was an inevitable snap in your core, making your eyes only see white for a moment as he groaned, feeling your juices flood his mouth. 

He pulled away and stood up, eyeing your out-of-breath form as your eyes met and he made a show of licking your cum off of his lips, then wiping his chin with the back of his hand. You shivered as he grabbed your wrist and pulled you up to meet his lips, tasting yourself as you kissed him gently. 

“I bet Noir couldn’t make you cum like that with just his mouth.” he smirked and whispered as you sighed happily. 

“Why do you keep bringing him up?” 

“Because you draw him a lot.” 

“No, I draw you a lot. I drew him to help me practice shading.” You clarify and Miguel feels himself get embarrassed as you finally put it all together. “Are you jealous?” 

“Well, I’m not- I don’t think I have the right to be jealous.” He muses, seeing how you’d answer and you hum a bit, smiling again. 

“You’re right. You don’t.” Your words leave him slightly hurt for a moment, until you continue, “unless you had feelings for me, which then it would be totally understandable to be jealous.” You watched how his eyes became amused and intrigued. 

“Oh yeah?” He playfully spoke as he lifted you up into his arms and moved to his couch, leaning you down and dropping you to the cushions. With the midsection of your leggings turned into ribbons, you sat with your core completely on display for him as he stood looking down at your body. “Well, now, if I did have feelings for you, would you reciprocate them?”

“I might, especially seeing how crazy and sexy you get when you’re jealous.” You pull his hands to make him balance on top of you, now caging you onto the couch with his arms by your head. “You think me tearing open your clothes and making sure you know that you’re mine is sexy?” He repeated, eyebrows shooting up in surprise as you laughed and nodded. 

“I think that you wanting me is sexy.”

“That makes sense.” He admitted and you laughed harder, not able to hide your enjoyment. “So. I like you, you like me. What are we going to do about it?” He mused and bent down further to capture your lips, but you moved to flip him onto the ground before he could make it to his destination. Straddling him now and staying close to his face, you bit his bottom lip with your teeth. Letting go, you grinned like a mad woman. 

“I’m going to prove that you’re also mine.”

tag list: @ruletarts @andyshitposts @thepowerthismanhasoverme @chshiresins @cellgore @sukioyakio @stinygirl009 @freshtoes

#miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara #miguel smut #atsv miguel

[hotchnerobsessed]

Expect The Unexpected - Part 1

@kihli this one is for you ♥️

Sarah x Reid + Fem!Reader x Hotch | When your best friend meets a cute guy at the book store, you accompany her to one of his work get-togethers and his boss sparks your interest.

Warnings: 🤭 SO MUCH FLUFF!

Word Count: 8149

NEXT

Series Masterlist / Main Masterlist

I don’t usually write stories for Reid, so here’s a little explanation! This is meant to take place in the mid-seasons, approximately 6-8.

**********

It was a typical winter evening in November, the wind whipping up bursts of snow making it next to impossible to see 2 feet in front of you. “Why am I going out in this?” Sarah huffed to herself. She already knew the answer; as much as it meant trekking through the bitter cold, it beat sitting at home alone while you were away visiting family.

You two had moved to Virginia together a few short months earlier, feeling the pull to make a drastic change in your late 20’s and early 30’s. The beautiful hiking trails, the vast job opportunities, the historical value it held, and not to mention the fantastic local food, is what drew you to choose Washington to call home.

Visiting home was something you two always tried your best to do together, but things just hadn’t worked out that way this time. Between work schedules, and family plans, your holiday trips home would have to be made separately this year. You’d felt guilty for deviating from the norm, and leaving without her, but Sarah had been more than understanding, insisting you take the opportunity to travel home while you could.

Aimlessly wandering the aisles of her new favourite book store, Sarah found herself scanning the shelves under large letters that indicated HISTORICAL FICTION. Her fingertips trailed across the spines of the books, skimming the titles hoping something might catch her attention. As luck would have it, something would, but it wasn’t any specific arrangement of letters scrawled across paper.

Always the girl to be hyper-aware of her surroundings, the addition of another person to the previously empty aisle she was standing in caused her to glance over. She felt her breath catch in her chest as she took in the side profile of a young man standing only a few feet away. It only took him a matter of seconds to scan the shelves, pull a book out, and begin skimming the first page.

She hadn’t realized she’d been staring, unable to pull her gaze away from his boyish features. He quickly looked up at her, a soft smile creasing the corners of his mouth, before turning his attention back to the book in hand.

In an attempt to pretend like nothing had happened, and move past any potential awkwardness, Sarah simply reached for the last book her fingertips had made contact with and pulled it off the shelf. Tucking it under her arm momentarily, she pulled her phone out of her pocket and typed out a quick message before focusing back on the book.

A few hundred miles away, you felt your phone buzz on the couch next to you. Picking it up, you saw Sarah’s name on your screen, accompanied by a frantic message.

📲 Cute boy at the bookstore just smiled at me. It was probably just a courtesy smile (I promise I wasn’t staring), but I’d put my money on he felt a deep connection, and we’re going to get married one day.

Giggling softly, you shook your head lovingly as you typed out a response.

Back at the store, Sarah’s eyes trailed across the cover of the book she’d just picked up; War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy. It was one she’d heard talked about, but had never found the time to read herself. Just as she was about to open the front cover and read the synopsis, she felt her phone buzz.

📲 I can hear the wedding bells from here! Ask him for a book recommendation 😉

Letting out a soft laugh, Sarah was about to type out a response of her own when she heard a soft voice beside her, “War and Peace is always the first book of Tolstoy’s to get recognition but I think the true artistry lies in The Prisoner of the Caucasus.”

Not even bothering to open the message and reply, she simply slid her phone back into her pocket as she glanced up at him. She was completely captivated by the warmth in his eyes and the cheeky smile on his face, and before she’d had a chance to respond, he was adding, “Did you know his real name is actually Count Lev Nikolayevich Tolstoy?”

Shaking her head, she finally spoke, “oh! No, I didn’t. That’s kind of cool! I love fun facts like that.”

His face lit up; his head was full of fun facts.

As he continued to explain how the Russian author had settled on the name Leo and began his writing career, Sarah listened intently, taking it all in. She was utterly fascinated, not only by the wealth of knowledge, but by the excitement in his voice as he spoke. He was clearly passionate, and she understood that feeling of desperately wanting to share the things that brought her joy with the people closest to her.

“And what are you reading?” she inquired, motioning towards the book in his hands. As he turned the cover of the book slightly so she could see it, he was about to go into detail about the first 20 pages he’d already skimmed, but she cut his train of thought short, “WAIT. Have you already read THAT much?!” Her eyes were trained on how far into the book his finger was holding his place.

The blush that crept onto his face was clear as day, as he mumbled, “oh, yeah I uh, I can read 20,000 words per minute.”

Sarah’s mouth dropped open, “wow! That’s, umm, that’s really impressive!” He blushed yet again, that smile of his growing even wider, and her heart swelled at the breathtaking sight. “So are you some kind of genius, or what?” she asked playfully, a smile plastered across her face as well.

“Well,” he hesitated slightly, not from embarrassment, but from the nerves he felt welling in his chest any time he looked at her, “I do have an IQ of 187 and an eidetic memory, so I’d say that’s an accurate assessment.”

Almost unable to contain the thrill she felt while talking to him, she just had to know his name. “I’m Sarah.” Her voice was quiet but firm, confidence rushing through her veins after the brief interaction.

“Spencer.” His voice was just as smooth and confident, even through the flustered smile on his face.

“Well Spencer, it’s nice to meet you.” The blush in her cheeks matched the one that consumed his at the sound of his name falling off her lips.

Logic told her she should be wary of him. The sad reality of meeting new people, especially men, was that their intentions were never clear. But with him, something just felt right. Like they’d known each other for ages. Like she could sit down with him and talk for hours on end. Like no harm could possibly come her way if he was around.

“Likewise.. Sarah..” He involuntarily hesitated when saying her name, his voice catching in his throat as fireworks lit up every corner of his mind.

She giggled softly, half from the butterflies that came to life in her stomach, and half from the flustered smile on his face.

It wasn’t long before she recalled the message from you, and the fact that he’d mentioned another book earlier. If only she’d actually been paying attention, instead of getting lost in his eyes. Now was her opportunity, and she couldn’t pass it up. “I’m sorry, but the, the other book,” she mumbled, “by Tolstoy, that you said you’d recommend over this one?” She lifted her hand, War and Peace still in her grasp.

“Oh! Yes!” He was clearly excited that she’d taken an interest in his opinion, and was eager to tell her more about it. Stepping closer to her, she couldn’t help but take note of the fact that he smelled amazing. And she couldn’t help but stare as his long fingers trailed across the spines of the books in front of her, the same way they had when he was picking out his own book. “Here!” With an excited smile, he pulled the book off the shelf and handed it to her.

Thanking him, she replaced the book she’d picked up earlier, and grasped the new one in her hands. Turning it over to the back, she skimming the synopsis. The story, based on the Russian author’s own experiences, was about two soldiers held prisoner by their enemy. Breathing deep, she looked up at him, “sounds intense.”

Spencer nodded, “it is. But the historical accuracy, based on the fact that Tolstoy was writing about his own trials and tribulations, makes it an intriguing read.”

She couldn’t get enough. Of his enthusiasm. Of his smile. Of his warmth. Now would be the natural time in a conversation with a stranger to thank them and bid each other farewell. But the thrill in her chest just wouldn’t allow her to move past it. With what she felt was bravery that could rival a gladiator preparing for battle, she spoke without a second thought, “I’d love to hear more about it, if you’d, maybe, want to join me for coffee?” She gazed over his shoulder in the direction of the small café in the front corner of the bookstore.

The true cause of the expression on his face was hard to read at first, as his mouth dropped open slightly and his eyebrows raised. She worried that she’d been a little too forward, and was trying to prepare herself for the conversation to come to an end.

Meanwhile, Spencer felt like his mind was short-circuiting, because it was so rare to find a person who didn’t try to stop his ramblings. Never mind a beautiful girl who enjoyed hearing him talk so much that she was voluntarily asking him to continue talking.

Just as Sarah was about to speak up, the slight shake in her head a dead giveaway that she was unsure of her request, Spencer broke the silence. “Would I ever! That would be great!” Glancing back up at him, the huge smile spread across his face was infectious, and soon they were walking side by side through the bookstore.

“So,” he inquired, “you didn’t have anywhere better to be on a Friday night?”

Giggling, she teased playfully, “I could ask you the same thing!”

Smiling bashfully, he glanced down at her, “you’ve got me there.”

Deciding he deserved a proper answer, she continued, “but no, not tonight. My best friend is back home visiting family for the holidays. The two of us love spending hours just wandering through bookstores, so I found my way here. I think it makes me feel a little closer to her.”

His warm smile tugged at her heart, “yeah, I get that. I don’t get to see my mom as often as I’d like to, so I’m always looking for things to keep her near me.”

The way his voice trembled slightly told her it was a touchy subject, so she simply nodded in understanding, not wanting to pry and ask for details. That was a conversation for another time, if there was ever going to be another time, and she hoped desperately that there would be.

After ordering their drinks, they made their way to the cozy seating area and chose a table for two. As they sat down across from each other, she couldn’t help but note the ease she felt with him. Any other day, talking to new people made her a little anxious, but there was an air of certainty around him that just made her feel safe.

She would come to find out later that he was thinking the exact same thing in that moment. Not one who usually put himself out there in social situations, there was just something about her, the warmth in her smile, and the comfort he felt in talking to her, that made him want to open up.

Diving straight into the book, he explained everything from Tolstoy’s childhood, to the history of the location where he was held hostage. Through it all she sat and listened intently, even chiming in every once in a while with her own tidbits of knowledge, and asking questions for him to expand on.

It didn’t take long for their conversation to shift to work and personal life. She found out that he worked for the FBI, in their Behavioural Analysis Unit, and that his title was Dr. Spencer Reid. Something about how official that sounded had her mind reeling. It also explained the comfort she felt around him; he made his living helping people, and protecting them from harm.

She filled him in on how it had only been a few months since you two had moved to the city, and how you hadn’t met many new people yet. His face lit up, “I don’t mean to be.. too forward.. but one of my coworkers is hosting a Thanksgiving get-together, and I think it’d be great if you would go. It’d be a good place to get to know more people. My team is amazing.”

Her initial excitement soon turned to hesitation for a couple reasons. She was unsure about meeting a large group of new people, in a new city, without you by her side. But she was grateful enough as it was that he had even asked, that she didn’t want to suggest bringing a plus one and overstepping his invite.

The delay in her response made it clear she was hesitant, and it didn’t take much for Spencer to figure out what the cause was. Speaking up once more, he extended the offer to you as well, “if your friend will be home by then, she’d be more than welcome to join, too!”

Her eyes smiled back at him, clearly surprised at how easily he’d been able to figure out exactly what she was thinking. “Profiler.. right.” she reminded herself; that was going to take some getting used to. “Okay!” She accepted the offer eagerly, “thank you so much, Spencer.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” he cooed, that blush spreading across his face yet again.

They sat there and talked for well over an hour, until the speakers throughout the bookstore informed them that it would be closing in a short 10 minutes. Looking back at each other, Sarah was the one to take the first step, “let me give you my number. You can give me more details about that supper.”

Nodding his head excitedly, Spencer pulled out a small notepad and pen from his bag, and slid them across the table. It wasn’t what she’d expected, but the giddy feeling that gripped her chest made her feel like she was on cloud nine. How could anyone be so pure, so innocent, so genuine?

Picking up the pen, she scrawled her name and number across one of the pages, before sliding it back to him. As he glanced down, Spencer smiled wide at the tiny heart she’d added beside her name.

Standing from the table, they slowly made their way to the front doors, as Spencer offered, “can I walk you to your vehicle?”

Laughing softly, she admitted, “oh no, I walked here.” The surprise on his face made her laugh, as he looked from her, out to the still blizzarding weather, then back at her again. “A little snow never hurt no one,” she teased.

Shaking his head, a soft smile finally pulled at his lips at her joke, but he insisted, “well, then let me give you a ride home? I’d feel much better knowing you got home safe.” Not one who typically drove either, rather he avoided it when he could, something inside him earlier had told him that he should drive tonight. He’d never been so thankful for this stormy weather in his life.

Her eyes locked with his, a thrill running through her as they simply gazed at each other for what felt like an eternity. “Okay,” she finally agreed, her voice soft.

“Okay,” he repeated, equally as flustered.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

That night, after Spencer had dropped Sarah off at home, you two had spent an hour or more on a video call discussing everything that had happened. The thrill in your chest knowing your best friend had not only met a cute guy, but things had easily clicked, had your mind racing; you couldn’t contain the joy you felt for her.

“Yes!!” she squealed excitedly, “I could hardly believe it myself!! But he wants me, US, to go!!”

“The second I get home we’re planning our outfits,” you admitted.

“Oh don’t you worry, I’ve already got ideas. SO many ideas. It’s going to be difficult to pick just one,” she joked.

You laughed, “why does that not surprise me?"

Time flew by, and before you knew it you were back home and at your apartment, wrapping Sarah in a big hug. “I missed you!”

She squeezed you even tighter, “I missed you, too!”

As you filled her in on your eventful thanksgiving with your family, you both dug through your closets in an attempt to piece together outfits to impress. Sarah wanted something to catch Spencer’s eye, draw him in even more than she already had. And you just wanted something that you felt comfortable in; no ulterior motives in mind, but simply wanting to feel good in your body.

The couple outfit choices Sarah’d had in mind weren’t quite working out the way she’d envisioned, so you chimed in with a suggestion of, “maybe we’ll have better luck at the mall?”

She smiled wide at that, and in a matter of minutes you were browsing the aisles of the various stores. Each of you had a few options thrown over your arms and were making your way towards the change rooms when Sarah saw it; it was a simple dress really, the spaghetti straps sewn into the shimmery silver material that glittered beautifully under the display lights. Typically you’d have thought that dress might be too formal for a thanksgiving dinner, but Spencer had informed Sarah that it was semi-formal attire, and the home it was being hosted at was “a mansion.”

“A mansion?!” You could remember being shocked by that detail of the invite. That’s what ultimately lead you both to the mall, rather than choosing something you already owned; nothing felt right for that setting.

“Ooo you definitely have to try that on!” you encouraged.

She didn’t need to be asked twice, flipping through to find her size and adding it to her pile. Too excited to wait, it was the first thing she tried on, and the second she stepped out of the change room, your jaw dropped to the floor. “YES. That’s the one!!”

“You think so?” You could tell she was a little uncertain, the dress was tighter than ones she typically wore, and barely reached her knees. She wasn’t sure if it was too much.

Nodding your head profusely, you repeated, “yes! Absolutely.” With your hands on either side of her arms, you stepped behind her to look at her in the mirror, “you look stunning! Spencer won’t know what hit him.”

That finally got a smile out of her, and she nodded her head in shy agreement. “Okay.. Now it’s your turn!”

You laughed softly before slipping into a change room of your own. You went through a couple different combinations of the things you’d picked out until you found the perfect set. “I think this might be it,” you stated, somewhat nervously, as you stepped out from behind the curtain.

Sarah’s face lit up as she took in the way the maroon bodysuit-style top, patterned with subtle lacy flowers, was complimented perfectly by the high-waisted black pants. “1000% YES. It’s totally you!!”

Turning slightly, you glanced in that same mirror and couldn’t help the pride you felt at how you looked. You’d never been the kind of girl who got excited dressing up and going out somewhere, but something about this felt different. You felt hopeful, like maybe if you put yourself out there, especially knowing you’d have your best friend by your side, things might finally start looking up.

“Besides,” she added cheekily, “Spencer can’t be the only cutie the FBI employs. Maybe stepping out of your comfort zone will catch the attention of one of his friends.” She nudged your arm slightly, causing heat to rise in your face, and hope to swell in your chest.

Making your way to the front of the store, new outfits in hand, you made your purchases and walked arm-in-arm back to your vehicle. The excitement both of you felt at getting all dolled up and going for a fancy dinner was overwhelming, and you both willed time to move faster.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Before you knew it, the day had arrived. It was a brisk, but sunny day, and neither of you could contain your excitement. As luck would have it, you’d both had the opportunity to leave your jobs early, so you took full advantage of it, racing home to get ready.

After helping each other with the final touches on your outfits, assisting with the taming of a stray hair, or straightening out of eyeliner, or choosing between two sets of jewelry, you were finally ready to take on the evening. Glancing at yourselves in the mirror once more, you couldn’t help the smiles that creased your eyes, confidence rushing through your veins. You felt like no matter what, you could take on the world, as long as you had each other.

Pulling up in front of the address Spencer had sent to Sarah, both of your eyes grew wide, and as you looked at each other, laughter erupted inside the vehicle. You couldn’t believe just how gorgeous the house was.

“And suddenly I feel very under-dressed,” you teased, watching a couple walking hand-in-hand up to the front door, dressed to the nines.

“Hey, we look hot, okay?” she encouraged.

Nodding your head, you smiled, “you’re right.”

With that, you both hooked your arms in each others like you always did, and made your way up the front steps, and through the massive doors of the stunning home. You’d been told to just let yourself in, and as you stepped into the large entry way, you both looked around in awe, your arms dropping to your sides. Glancing at each other, you couldn’t hide the smiles that spread across your faces.

While you were busy taking in your breathtaking surroundings, you were completely oblivious to the fact that you’d caught the attention of a man in the next room. His dark hair was styled simply, pushed back from his face with a small amount of styling gel and his fingers. The button up shirt he’d tucked into his dress pants hugged his chest flawlessly, and the tie that hung around his neck pulled everything together.

Aaron hadn’t been invested in the conversation happening around him, as his eyes travelled across the room. That’s when you’d walked in, and immediately captivated him. The wonder and awe on your face brought a smile to his, and he couldn’t quite pull his eyes away from you. The way your hair fell across your shoulders, the way your shirt accentuated your curves, and the way your smile lit up the room.

He wanted to talk to you. He wanted to know your name. But he was unsure of how to approach you. He’d never seen you at any of these gatherings before, and he didn’t think he recognized your friend either. “Who is she? Where did she come from? Where has she been hiding all this time?” These questions plagued his mind; he needed to find a way to introduce himself.

He watched intently as Morgan made his way up to both of you. It didn’t take a profiler to see that he’d never met either of you before, but he was making his interest known. It wasn’t until Spencer made his way through the crowd towards you, his interest in your friend clear as day, that Aaron knew he’d found his way in.

Across the room, you and Sarah stood side by side, as a handsome man with a flashy smile walked up beside you. “Well hello ladies! I don’t think we’ve met. I know I would remember those beautiful faces.”

You were almost flattered, but you could both tell by the bravado in his voice, and the confidence in his words, that he’d probably used that exact line on other girls who’d arrived before you, and you were sure you wouldn’t be the last.

“I don’t think we have, no,” Sarah was the first to respond, reaching her hand out. “I’m Sarah.”

You extended your hand in greeting, “and I’m Y/N.”

Shaking both of your hands, he asked, “so what brings you here this evening?”

Before either of you could answer, Spencer appeared and Sarah’s eyes locked with his. “Sarah! I’m so glad you made it!” There was no ignoring the smile that spread like wildfire across her face at his greeting.

The excitement in his voice made your heart swell. Sarah had told you all about him, but actually seeing him in person, hearing how he spoke to her, and seeing the way he looked at her, solidified your approval of him.

Morgan snapped his head in Reid’s direction, eyes wide; of all the reasons he expected you two to be there, Spencer was nowhere near the top of that list. But it didn’t take long for the shock on his face to shift to one of pride. “Play on, player,” he teased, slapping his hand against Spencer’s shoulder. “Sarah, it’s been lovely meeting you.” He shook her hand once more. “And Y/N, maybe I’ll see you around later,” he added with a wink.

As Morgan stepped away, Spencer’s face was scrunched up with embarrassment, “I’m sorry about him.”

You both laughed, “he seems harmless,” Sarah admitted.

“That’s a level of confidence I wish I had,” you teased, causing both of them to laugh along with you. “You must be Spencer,” you turned your focus back to him, before adding cheekily, “Sarah has told me a lot about you.” Glancing over at her quickly, you noticed the slight blush in her cheeks.

You saw the way his eyes focused on her, a soft pink rising in his cheeks as well, before taking in the stunning dress she had on. He finally looked back up at you, “likewise, Y/N.”

You laughed at that, “only the good things I hope.”

Nodding his head enthusiastically, not quite picking up on your joke, he looked back and forth between you frantically, “oh yes! It’s all been good!”

Sarah’s smile grew, his boyish innocence made her feel all giddy inside. Laughing softly, she nudged you with her elbow, “she’s just teasing, you can ignore her.”

The relief on his face was evident, finally understanding it was your attempt at making a playful remark, and not purposefully trying to make things awkward.

“Well then,” Spencer spoke once more, reaching out his arm to Sarah, “let me show you two around, I’ll introduce you to the team.”

Graciously accepting his offer, Sarah tucked her arm under his. As they took a step forward, she turned her head back to look at you momentarily and you shared a knowing look; one that effortlessly conveyed her excitement, and in return showed her how impressed you were with his kind and gentle nature. Smiling at each other one last time, she finally turned her attention back to where he was leading her, and you followed close behind.

It wasn’t long before you’d seen the entire first floor of the house, and most importantly the kitchen, where rows of warming trays were set up, and would soon be filled with delicious catered food. You’d also been introduced to just about everyone on the team. Morgan said hello again, this time with Garcia glued to his side; you could tell she brought so much light to any room she was in. Rossi graciously welcomed you to his home, and Prentiss and JJ immediately made you feel at home in their BAU family.

“The only person I haven’t introduced you to yet is our Unit Chief, Hotch,” Spencer stated as he glanced around the large living room, “he’s got to be around here somewhere, he’s hard to miss.”

You and Sarah began glancing around the room as well, even though neither of you knew exactly who you were looking for. In your efforts, a tall man with dark features caught your eye. The way he smiled as he chatted with the person he was talking to made your breath catch in your chest; he was so handsome. Just as you were about to look away, he glanced over at you, and it was almost as if he knew you were there, as if he’d looked over specifically at you. A flustered smile graced your lips, but you were soon pulled from your daydream by Spencer’s voice, “there he is!”

When you looked back at the two of them, Spencer was completely unaware of the moment you’d just shared with the handsome stranger, but Sarah had seen it all play out. “That was some intense eye contact,” she whispered.

Raising your eyebrows at her in agreement, you both glanced up at Spencer who spoke regretfully, “he looks like he’s busy right now, maybe I can introduce you a bit a later.”

Sarah caught on before you did, so she asked her next question not-so-innocently, in an attempt to nudge you in the right direction. “Which one is he?”

Before Spencer could answer, she glanced from you, to the man you’d just been caught staring at, then back at you. Your eyes grew wide with realization, just as Spencer confirmed, “the tall one with the blue tie, and dark hair.”

“Noted,” was all you could muster.

This time, Spencer caught on to your flustered mannerisms. “Or we could go say hi right now, if you’d like.”

You shook your head in an attempt to brush it off, “oh no, no it’s okay. I’m sure we’ll run into him later.”

Spencer and Sarah glanced at each other knowingly, before agreeing to leave it alone, and for that you were thankful.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

As the evening went on, you mingled some more, meeting new people every few minutes in the large crowd. At one point in time, after the meal had been served and everyone had filled up on the phenomenal food, Sarah and Spencer had made their way to a quiet corner in the back of the house. You’d encouraged it, knowing she was there to get to know him better, and you weren’t about to stand in her way.

Thankfully, you’d bumped into a few now-familiar faces in your travels. Garcia had such a warmth about her, and you immediately felt yourself drawn towards her. She welcomed you with open arms and you found yourself spending most of the evening with her. At one point in time, she’d been talking to Morgan and JJ, when Morgan asked, “has anyone seen the boss man tonight? He’s got to be here somewhere.”

You waited, hoping someone who actually knew him would chime in, but no one did. Your voice was quiet as you spoke, “I.. I think Spencer said he’d seen him in the front room earlier.”

Everyone’s eyes were trained on you, and you immediately felt your face flush. You were sure you hadn’t said too much, after all it was Spencer who had pointed him out, and yet you still felt as if the gaze you’d shared with the handsome man earlier was written across your forehead.

Morgan spoke up again, “ohhh so you’ve met Mr. Large And In Charge have you?”

You were starting to get the sense that he loved saying things just to get a reaction out of people, and judging by the look on everyone’s faces, you were right. Apparently being new to the group didn't mean you were free and clear of his playful remarks.

“Derek..” JJ warned.

“What??” he feigned innocence, “you know he’s single, right?”

“Very subtle,” you thought to yourself, as a flustered laugh escaped, “and why are you telling me this?”

JJ stepped in again, elbowing Morgan in the side as she spoke, “no reason. Derek needs to learn to stop meddling in other people’s personal lives. Especially someone he's JUST met.”

You smiled at her in thanks. You weren’t overly bothered by his teasing, but it was a little awkward when you took into consideration the fact that you hardly knew these people. Not to mention the fact that you hadn’t even officially met him yet. But you decided not to let it bother you. If anything, it made you want to find him and get to know him even more.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Meanwhile, in a quiet corner at the back of the house, Sarah and Spencer had found a spot where they could simply enjoy each other's company. As he'd lead her through the crowd, her arm still tucked under his, he slowly lowered his hand and she followed his lead. In a matter of seconds, their palms were pressed together, fingers intertwined effortlessly.

The seconds their hands connected, Spencer’s mind went blank. Quiet. Calm. The most at peace he’d felt in years. There were no more nagging anxieties. No more fears of being seen for who he truly was. No more worries about whether he was too much, and yet not enough at the same time.

Sarah felt it, too. She immediately knew she’d never feel alone again. She’d no longer have to worry about past what-ifs, because none of them mattered anymore. None of them would ever be able to hold a candle to the safety and security she felt with him.

But was it too soon to feel this way? If you’d asked either of them mere weeks earlier, they would have told you you were crazy. Love at first sight wasn’t real. That was a thing of fairytales and Hollywood movies. Yet here they were, both feeling as if they held the entire world in the palm of their hand, and not being afraid to take that leap.

Standing next to the patio windows, the brilliant moon shining through the sheer curtains, her hand never left his. With their fingers intertwined, he gave her hand a gentle squeeze, “I’m glad you came tonight.”

Looking up into his kind eyes, a flustered smile pulled at the corner of her lips, as she admitted, “I’m glad you asked.”

Sharing a soft smile, unable to pull their eyes away from each other, time seemed to stand still. Knowing the evening would be coming to an end soon, Spencer knew he couldn’t just let her walk away; he couldn’t stand the thought of pushing his feelings down the way he usually did, risking another man sweeping her off her feet before he built up the nerves to. With his mind clear, he knew what he needed to do.

Gazing back at him, she wasn’t sure if she was afraid her emotions were written across her face too clearly, or if she was afraid it wouldn’t be clear enough. The fact that she felt such a deep pull towards him this soon was terrifying, but it was strangely refreshing. She felt like her mind and body were finally awake, after having hidden herself away from the world, in the bustle of moving to a new place and attempting to get settled.

Uncertain of whether anyone was watching, but uncaring if they were, Spencer slowly lifted his free hand to the side of her face. Gently brushing his knuckles against her cheek, he tucked her hair behind her ear, before gazing down at her parted lips. His eyes lingered momentarily, before he finally looked her in the eyes once again.

The slight nod of her head, combined with the fact that she’d moved her free hand to his waist, fingers grasping the soft material of his cardigan, was all the confirmation he needed. Slowly, patiently, he leaned down, anticipation building with every second that passed. With one final tug on his shirt, he finally connected his lips to hers, tender, and soft.

The first to deepen the kiss, Sarah let go of his hand, wrapping both of her arms around his waist and pulling him close. His hands both found their way to her cheeks, cradling her face gently, as he pressed his lips against hers with even more passion.

Spencer hardly recognized himself, how bold and confident he had been all evening, and now in this moment. She brought out the best in him, made him feel unafraid of being seen or judged; she made him feel alive.

Finally pulling away, not wanting to get too carried away to the point of being unable to stop, he exhaled deep, their lips only inches apart. He placed one more kiss against her lips, then one on the tip of her nose, and one last one against her forehead.

Sarah couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her lips. As their surroundings slowly faded back in, she gazed up at him through a bashful grin, wondering if anyone had witnessed their exchange, but ultimately being unfazed by the thought.

She spoke softly once more, “I’m really glad you asked..”

That caused a laugh to rumble in Spencer’s chest as well, as they gleefully pulled each other into their warm embrace, his chin resting flawlessly on top of her head.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Across the house, you stood alone not far from the entryway. You’d excused yourself from the conversation earlier, although thankful to be included, you didn’t want to intrude on the bond they all had with each other. You’d made your way into the kitchen to grab a glass of water, your mouth was strangely dry after your nerves had got the better of you.

Glass in hand, you took small sips as you made your way towards the back of the house. Your eyes immediately recognized the sparkle of Sarah’s dress through the sea of people, and you couldn’t help but smile as you came to realize you’d caught the tail end of what was surely their first kiss. Your heart swelled as you saw him kiss her nose, then her forehead, before pulling her into his chest.

The joy you felt for your best friend left you with a strange mix of emotions swirling through your mind. You felt guilty for seeing their happiness and secretly yearning for your own. As you stood there alone, heart full of both happiness and longing, you were unaware of the man approaching you.

It was a strong, yet gentle voice that pulled you out of your daydream. “So you’re a friend of Spencer’s?”

Glancing up to the side, you were shocked to find the tall man with dark hair and blue tie standing next to you; the infamous Unit Chief of the FBI’s BAU. You’d needed a second to collect your thoughts, but you responded through a light laugh, “oh, uhm, well technically he invited me, but I don’t really know him that well. The invite was more for my friend.” You spoke as you motioned in their direction.

He nodded his head in understanding, “ahh I see. So how long have you two known each other?”

Smiling softly, you glanced from him back at Sarah and Reid deep in conversation. “It’s been, oh, 12 years now? But it feels like forever. She’s my person.”

A smile pulled at the corner of his lips as he followed your line of sight to where they stood. “It’s pretty clear Spencer sees something in her. She must be a great girl.”

Nodding your head proudly, your smile grew, “she is.” Turning your attention back to him, you inquired, “and him?”

A content sigh hugged Aaron's chest as he spoke, “he’s as genuine as they get. A little quirky, but it’s endearing.”

“I think we’re all a little quirky in our own way,” you added playfully.

Smiling down at you, his eyes scanned your face, and you couldn’t help the feeling that welled up inside you. That same eye contact you'd shared earlier was back, only this time you felt it in your bones, the proximity of your body to his making it hard to deny your attraction to him any longer. You could tell he was thinking the same thing, as his eyes lingered on yours a moment longer before he admitted, “you’ve got a point there.”

You couldn’t help the curiosity you felt towards him. The couple people you’d talked to said he was a great boss, but he was stern, and joked that he didn’t smile. You’d already seen him smile twice within a matter of minutes. Maybe these people just hadn’t taken the time to get to know him outside of work.

“So, Spencer said your name was.. Hotch?” you hesitated, unsure if you’d remembered correctly.

He laughed softly, “Hotchner, that’s my last name. But everyone just calls me Hotch.”

“Ahhh,” you sighed, “makes sense. No one ever calls you by your first name?!”

He could hear the surprise in your voice, but also detected the hint of curiosity in the way your pupils dilated as you asked the question. “Not often, no,” he laughed softly. “Let’s try this introduction again,” he spoke as he reached a hand out to you, “hi, I’m Aaron.”

A flustered grin spread across your face as you grasped his hand in yours. You felt electricity rush through your veins from the point of contact, as it coursed all the way through your body. His warm palm against yours, his fingers wrapped firmly around your hand, and his eyes trained on you, made you weak in the knees.

“Y/N..” you spoke softly, “it’s nice to meet you, Aaron.”

He couldn’t deny the thrill he felt at hearing his name fall off your lips. He was already so far in the deep end there was no use in even trying to swim back to safety. With his eyes locked on yours, he finally let go of your hand as he repeated, "Y/N.." his voice trailing off slightly, "well I hope my team has treated you well this evening."

A comforting feeling washed over you as you recalled the interactions you'd had. Yes, even the ones with Derek. "Everyone has been very welcoming."

"Good, that's good," he stumbled over his words slightly, and you could tell there was more he wanted to say, but he was holding himself back. He wanted to tell you that he thought you were stunning; effortlessly captivating. That he'd noticed you the second you walked through the door. That no one in the room compared to the beauty and grace you radiated.

Just as you were about to speak again, you were interrupted by the addition of two people to your conversation, “I see you’ve finally met Hotch!” Spencer’s voice rang in your ears.

Glancing over, you immediately made eye contact with Sarah, the smile on her face clear as day as she looked from you, up at him, then back at you. Biting your bottom lip to hide a smile of your own, you gave her a look of “not now..” and she rolled her eyes playfully.

The interaction between you wasn’t lost on the two men, as they both shared a knowing glance. That’s when you finally spoke up, “yeah, yes, I’ve officially met your whole team now.” You’d referenced the rest of the team in an attempt to not draw any more attention to the heat rushing through your veins.

“I can’t say the same quite yet,” Sarah added, reaching her hand out to Hotch, “I’m Sarah.”

Shaking her hand graciously, he nodded as he spoke through a smile, “pleasure to meet you.”

You all stood there and talked for what felt like an eternity, with the comfort of people who had known each other for years. You took note of how right it felt to be standing there, just the 4 of you, talking about life. It was all very natural, like fate had brought you together. Younger you would have laughed at such a preposterous thought, but you couldn’t ignore that the gut feeling you’d had in that store a week earlier, the one that told you to put yourself out there, had maybe been right.

As the conversation slowly died down, Sarah finally admitted, “I think we should maybe get going, don’t you think Y/N? I know you have to work early in the morning.”

Glancing at the clock on the wall that you’d been oblivious to until now, you were thankful Sarah had been paying attention. “You’re right, it is getting a bit late.”

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t disappointed that the evening was coming to an end; you’d truly enjoyed meeting new people in a city you were still growing into. You could only hope that this wasn’t the last time you would see everyone, and the way Spencer rested his hand on the small of Sarah’s back as you all made your way towards the door washed those worries away. This was only the beginning.

“Well thank you, Spencer, for inviting us to join you all tonight. We had a wonderful time.” Sarah glanced at you, and you nodded in agreement, before she looked back up at the boyish grin that creased his features.

“Thank you for coming! Both of you!” The excitement in his voice was clear as day.

Smiling at Spencer once more, you finally turned your attention back to Aaron, who had joined in the venture towards the front door. The way he looked at you told you that the connection you’d felt wasn’t one sided, and the thought made your stomach jump into your throat. You found yourself unable to speak, so he did first, “it was great meeting you.”

Your voice was shaky as you responded with a simple, “you too.”

Only a couple feet away, Spencer had both of Sarah’s hands held tight in his grasp, “you have my number. Please let me know when you get home safe.”

A soft, “I will,” was all she could muster.

With one final look shared between them, Spencer brought one of her hands up to his lips and placed a gentle kiss against her knuckles. You and Aaron, who had both caught the tender moment out of the corner of your eyes, smiled wide.

With your final goodbyes being shared, Spencer gave both of you a little wave, before you turned and pushed open one of the large doors, immediately linking your arms together. What neither of you had seen before the door closed, was the look that Spencer and Aaron shared; pride welling in Aaron’s chest at the confidence Spencer was finally showing, and Spencer smiling slyly at the sight of his strong, private, boss all flustered.

“Soooo..” you prompted, “how was the kiss?!”

Sarah blushed immediately, “oh my God, you saw that?!”

You laughed, “you were in the middle of a crowded room! Lots of people saw it.”

Bringing her hand up to cover her face, she let out a tiny shriek of excitement, “I might almost be embarrassed, except it was SO GOOD.”

Grasping her hand that was tucked around your arm, you squeezed it tight, “better than you imagined?”

Groaning dramatically, she admitted, “SO much better.”

You giggled along with her, the excitement you felt for her consuming your mind. “Good!! I’m so happy for you!!”

You’d reached your vehicle by now, and as you both climbed into your seats and you started the engine, Sarah turned to face you. She leaned on the center console eagerly, “and..” she teased, “you and Hotch?” a cheeky grin plastered across her face.

Heat rose in your cheeks as you thought back to the interaction. Swallowing around the tightness in your throat, you informed her, “Aaron..”

“WAIT. You got his first name?!” she squealed.

All you could do was nod, still unsure if you were ready to let yourself dive deep into this new crush.

“I told you,” she added, “the FBI was bound to have a cutie for you, too.”

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Tag List: @ssamorganhotchner ; @ccristata ; @anlin2058 ; @sannunah28 ; @hotchgirlsummer ; @red-red-rogue ; @chibsytelford ; @hannahufflepuff ; @mrs-ssa-hotch ; @ivyflowers13 ; @rousethemouse ; @emobabeyy

#expect the unexpected #reid imagine #spencer reid imagine #hotch imagine #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds imagine #reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #hotch fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #reid #spencer reid #hotch #aaron hotchner #dr spencer reid #doctor spencer reid #ssa hotchner #ssa aaron hotchner #reid girls #hotch girls #matthew gray gubler #thomas gibson #criminal minds #bau #behavioural analysis unit #fan fiction

[downton-musings]

Suitors (Thomas Barrow x Female Reader x Tom Branson) CH. 2

Pairings: Thomas Barrow x Female Reader x Tom Branson

Synopsis: Tensions arise as reader navigates newfound feelings for Mr. Barrow and Tom

Warnings: Angst (expression of frustration and jealousy), some coercion, smoking, profanity

Author’s note: Thomas is portrayed as being heterosexual (straight) in this series. If that offends or upsets you, kindly keep scrolling. This is a series, and will be posted in multiple chapters, also the reader is 19 years old *

——————————————————————————

A willow tree kept you sheltered under its swaying branches as you concentrated on the notebook in your lap, trapping your thoughts on paper with a black fountain pen.

Its pigmented ink saturated the cream colored pages with the careful movement of your hand.

It was past luncheon now, but hunger didn’t provoke you when you were writing. It was the one occupation that dissolved the world around you, and only made tangible the one in your head.

The lush English Countryside was a welcoming location for new ideas. The steady swishing of the wind encouraged you, as did the sun warming your exposed shoulders.

As your eyes wandered over your pen work, a throat cleared next to you. You finished your last thought with an exaggerated period, slowly turning your head to the visitor.

A familiar pair of blue green eyes met yours, creasing at the edges with affection. Your eyes widened in surprise.

“I just came to inform you that luncheon is being served.” As he spoke you observed his well kept frame, wandering down to his fingers clasped in front of him, fidgeting slightly.

“Oh, right of course.” You let out a breathy laugh, feeling the nerves of being with him alone.

You made haste and closed your notebook with a soft thud, rising from your seat.

“What are you writing?” He asked with curious eyes, inviting himself to sit on the bench with a content sigh.

Obligingly you followed his lead with a flat smile, taking back your original place.

“I couldn’t say.” You quipped, thinking quickly as your brought your leg over the other.

“Why’s that?” He leaned in in intrigue, resting his elbow on the edge of the bench. It appeared that he regressed into his young socialist self, losing sight of manners.

“Because,” you paused, taking in a breath as you conjured a response, “it could be about you.” Your eyes found his as the words left your lips, rendering you both speechless as you shared a prolonged gaze.

“Oh.” He blinked, taken back by your confession. The thought of your journal with his name in it was an all too scandalous notion for him to take in, it made his cheeks flush. “Could be?”

“It will be if you continue to pry,” you teased with a playful tone, giving his shoulder a light tap with the back of your book.

He chuckled softly, showing off his pearly white teeth in genuine amusement. The sight made your own mouth curl into an uncontrollable smile.

“We should get on then.” You suggested as your grin faded, bringing your eyes down to your lap.

A gust of wind came in, softly blowing a few strings of hair over your face.

“Right.” He agreed quietly, admiring you with parted lips.

——————————————————————————

“Do you favor a drink?” Cora asked, turning her head back from the bar table.

“Yes,” you replied, prying your eyes from the orange flames. “Thank you.”

She hummed in acknowledgement.

A clean trickling sound followed the pour of her hand, dispensing gold liquid into a glass.

She glided over to you, handing your drink which you thankfully took from her hand. The cushions squeaked as she sat across from you, gracefully curling her legs to the side.

“You appear quite occupied.” She noted, observing your trance like focus on the burning wood.

Her observation shook your focus, peeling your eyes back to her. “Yes. You see,” you paused, thumbing your glass in nervousness. “You’ll find me quite silly..”

Her head tilted in intrigue. “I’m not quite sure silly is a word I would use to describe you.”

You half smiled, appreciative of her flattery. “No, but you see,” you breathed, dropping your shoulders. “I’ve taken quite a liking to Tom.”

A second of silence followed your confession, making you chew the inside of your lip in anticipation.

“Oh.” She blinked in surprise. “Our Tom?”

“Yes, yes,” you shushed her with a finger to you lip, scanning the room and lowering your voice, “But don’t say anything.”

She nodded silently as a sort of promise, bringing her glass to her lips with a pleased grin.

Thomas’ hands flattened against the other side of the door, head falling back against the hard wood. He exhaled heavily as his mind clouded with disappointment. His blue eyes twitched in the dim light, growing glossy with tears.

“Thomas?” Jimmy’s voice called from the servants entrance, peaking his head out of the door.

“Shit.” He cursed, straightened up his posture and swiping a finger under his eyes.

“Coming.” Thomas called back in a flat tone, sucking in a breath. He struggled to pull himself away from the door, rounding the corner.

“I need a smoke.” Thomas huffed as he stomped over to Jimmy, breathing out harshly through his nose.

Jimmy’s concerned eyes scanned him, his clenching jaw and lowered gaze, wandering in thought.

“You alright?”

“M’fine,” he lied, “just need some air is all.” His hand came down on Jimmy’s shoulder in a reassuring tap as he shuffled past him, descending down the stairs.

The hall was busy with people. Mrs. Patmore was on Daisy’s tail with a pile of dirty dishwater in her arms, cleaning up after supper.

A frustrated Thomas wove in and out of the crowd, raising his hands to squeeze past Anna with an armful of towels.

The bunch was distracted with their own tasks, giving him the opportunity to slip away unnoticed. He hurried down the dimly lit corridor, desperate for escape from his spiraling thoughts. With an eager grasp on the brass knob, he twisted it open, letting in a gentle gust of cool night air. He sighed as it hit his skin, relaxing the tension in his shoulders. A sense of relief washed over him as the door clicked behind him, in solitude at last.

Once alone he hastily reached in his pocket, sifting his fingers through until the familiar cool metal touched his skin.

With shaking fingers he lifted a dry cigarette to his lips, securing it with his mouth as he flicked the lighter. With the cupping of his palm the flame caught, illuminating his tear stained face in an orange glow.

He took a long drag, closing his eyes as the comforting smoke filled his mouth. He held it there for a moment, savoring the feeling before letting it out through his nose.

A cloud of gray followed his repeated movements, polluting the clear moonlit sky with a cast of swirling black.

He propped himself against the stone wall, bringing a slight chill to his skin as he took another drag, mindlessly scuffing the rocks beneath his feet.

As he did so a soft pattering of footsteps stirred from nearby, making him straighten up. He tapped the butt of his cigarette, sprinkling a heap of ashes on the ground as he listened in.

——————————————————————————

The soft whispering of yours and Cora’s voices echoed in the darkened foyer as you spoke at the end of the stairs.

Mrs. Hughes caught your eye, closing the sitting room door once finished cleaning up the sitting room. She offered a grin of acknowledgment before disappearing down the hall.

“I think I’ll go for a stroll.” You inquired, turning you head back to Cora.

Her brows furrowed in concern with a low voice, “Are you quite sure? Is it safe?”

“I’m sure so. I’ll only be a few minutes, I would like to gather inspiration for my writing.”

“Shall I send someone with you?” She offered, uneasy with the idea of you being alone.

“No need. I’ll be just fine.” You leaned in, placing a goodnight peck on her cheek.

Your hands lifted in her grasp, warming as she squeezed them affectionately.

“If you insist.” She caved, relaxing with a smile. “Well goodnight then.”

“Goodnight.” You whispered with a head nod, parting from her as she tip toed up the steps.

You started your separate ways, you for the front door. The large frame swallowed your body as you approached it. With a careful hand, as to not wake anyone, you twisted the gold handle, unlatching the metal with a click.

The door was heavy, requiring a fair amount of weight. You leaned against the wood, huffing slightly as it pushed open, exposing you to the outside air.

A delighted grin spread across your face as you stepped out onto the gravel, eyes dancing in admiration of the moonlit sky.

The door fell closed behind you with the force of a soft breeze, pulling your hair back.

“Alright,” you whispered, studying the darkened greenery with curious eyes. “What shall I discover tonight?”

You started around the corner, kicking up loose stones with your steps, no doubt leaving white powder on the fringe of your dress.

The night was calm, serene. The only time of day where unnatural noises seized to exist, leaving space for the voices of animals and plants. It was still except for the shallow exhales from your nose and chirping crickets.

Dark fluffy silhouettes of trees came into view as you rounded the back of the abbey, greeted by a stone wall to your left.

Your steps slowed as your eyes followed the strategically placed stones, held together with a layer of plaster.

As your eyes drifted back to the path, a cloud of smoke drifted in front of you. Your scrunched your nose as the smell.

In intrigue you followed the swirling cast, crunching the stones beneath your shoes until you were met with an opening in the stone wall.

Pitch black darkness invaded your view. You turned your back, squinting at the moon hiding behind a large tree.

“Hello?” You called in a soft voice, curiously stepping into the enclosure.

As your eyes adjusted to the darkness an orange flame exposed itself, revealing a masculine face with sculpted cheekbones.

The figure shuffled, sucking in a shaky breath as he approached you.

A soft gust of wind stirred the branches of the tree, pouring in a veil of moonlight over the man’s face. His eyes were deep blue, sparkling in the white light. They sat deep under his black brows, curiously looking down at you.

“Lady y/n,” he murmured with a low intrigued voice, pulling in a mouth of smoke.

You couldn’t help but study his blush colored lips, pursing out as he exhaled a drag of smoke over his shoulder.

Your neck strained at his height, bringing your heart rate up as you put the pieces together, “Barrow is it?”

He let out a pleased exhale at your recognition.

“Yes ma’am.” A smirk pulled on his lips hearing his name on your tongue, bringing out his dimples.

You shuffled your weight on both feet, unsure of your proximity. Clutching your hands in front of you out of habit, you thumbed the top of your hand.

“I smelled the smoke.” You cleared your throat, “I was out on a stroll you see,” you explained, eyes looking to the side. “Looking for inspiration to write.”

He hummed in intrigue, tilting his head as he finished off his cigarette, tossing it to the side with a soft thud.

“Did you find it?” He asked, scanning his eyes down your figure. Your skin was a glistening cream in the white light, exaggerating your purity and youth.

“I-“ The words seemed to get caught in your throat as his eyes met yours. Your chest rose softly under his gaze. “I believe I have.”

His expression softened at your words. With a pounding heart against his chest, he dug his nails into his palms, fighting to back his desire.

“Very good ma’am.” He replied in the most polite tone he could muster, scarcely concealing his intentions. In the gleaming sapphire of his irises you could make out a string of unspoken words.

“Right,” you started, swallowing thickly. “Well, I’m afraid I’ve found what I was looking for, so I best be headed inside.”

He nodded, giving you an outing. In reluctance you pulled yourself away from him, turning on your heel for the path.

A heavy breath escaped your lips in discontentment, clouding in the cool air.

His footsteps crunched behind you as he made way for the servants door. With his hand it cracked open, letting out a blanket of orange light at your feet.

You turned your head back, catching his broad silhouette before he disappeared into the servants hall.

——————————————————————————

To be continued!

#Thomas barrow #Tom Branson #allen leech #robert james collier #downton abbey #downton abbey fanfiction #tom branson x reader #thomas barrow x reader #tom branson fan fic #thomas barrow fan fic #angst #period dramas #1920s #bbc #British men

[poppyseedfics]

hi!! can I ask for a hugs with Mika between classes at Yumenosaki garden, please?

Hi hiii~

Thank you very much for requesting! This was such a cute idea 💕

You didn't specify HCs or ficlet, so I might've just ran with it,,, don't read into it I'm fine I swear 😳

Once again I have made like half the fic the setup, I don’t know how or why I keep doing this but uhhhh I hope you enjoy anyway?

Hugs at the Yumenosaki Gardens

Mika Kagehira

It was only the first class and already the day was shaping up to be one ending in shambles.

First you'd woken up 10 minutes late, eyes so heavy that it took a conscious effort to blink each one individually. Once you'd hauled yourself up you'd accidentally stubbed your toe on your desk, of which still currently hurt.

Your uniform was creased, your breakfast was bland, your earphones stopped working the moment you stepped out your door- not to mention you could feel the tag of your shirt scathing against your back and the seam of your sock was positioned positively perfectly in the wrong place.

 By the time you'd taken your seat, it felt as though you'd lived 10 days in the span of an hour. 

You took a moment to try and collect yourself. You just needed 20 seconds…

A tsunami of curse words crashed through your head at the sound of the classroom door rattling open. Like a wave the other students hushed. You took the chance to take a deep breath, pushing it out steadily to calm your flurry of thoughts. You could do this.

Attendance went smoothly. You said your name when called upon and nothing went wrong. Your first win of the day. Perhaps minor, but even this smallest light was a flicker of hope.

The teachers voice echoed across the room. You stared ahead, unmoving as the words processed in your head.

'Book' is what finally registered and you made haste to unzip your bag that was upon its perch on the side of your desk. A chorus of zippers indicated others were doing the same. You slid your hand into your bag to collect the required item…

Why didn't you feel it?

The panic began to bubble up in your chest, a constricting squeeze that made your breath wobble. Eyes darting around the room you could only watch as everyone else pulled out their books and began flipping quickly to a fresh page.

It had to be there. You couldn't have forgotten your book. Not today.

In a blind panic you forced your hand to continue moving, grasping the textbook for a later class and sliding it over. Behind it was another, a different book. Thinner, a smooth cover-

You hadn't forgotten your book.

Relief flooded you. The feeling was welcome, it was as if a fresh wind right of the ocean had swept through your body, melting your worries away.

Hastily retrieving your hand from the heinous depths of your own bag, you set the book on your desk, flipping to a new page just as the teacher began speaking. You nodded along, the gift of relief intoxicating your system.

Today would be fine, it was just a bumpy start.

 You felt to the left of your desk, fingertips only finding the sheer edge of your desk.

You'd forgotten your pencil case.

In that moment, nothing felt more appealing then just letting your head fall into the desk and screaming.

 Class passed… You didn't want to think about it. Instead, you were occupied with the thought that because you were late, you hadn't gone to see Mika in the gardens before school like you usually did. You hoped he wasn't mad at you…

As soon as the teacher dismissed class you swept your books back into your bag and made a mad dash for the door. You swiped your phone from your pocket with the hope of asking Mika to meet you in the gardens now- you needed to see him if the rest of this cursed day was going to be anything like the previous 2 hours. You turned your phone on before quickly ducking around some students to keep your pace as you all but barrelled down the hall toward in the direction of the garden. You turned your phone on, prying your eyes away from it as you pushed the exit door open- the cool morning air was fresh and immediately worked through your body to give you at least a faux feeling of calm.

You turned your phone on… You turned your phone on-

Nothing but your own reflection peered back.

It was flat.

 Maybe it was out of frustration, perhaps just sheer desperation, but you just simply broke out into a mad sprint toward the gardens. You hoped against all hope that Mika would just be there.

Once the white lattice building came into view your eyes snapped to it, immediately working to see if you could spot anyone inside through the glare on the windows. Legs beginning to slow, your heart felt as though it was sinking into to incredulous depths. Your breaths rattled your chest as you recovered from the exertion of effort… you couldn’t blame him for not being here, but it really did not feel good.

Standing in the entrance, eyes glazed over you began to suppose you should begin heading to your next class… although no matter how logical it was, you just couldn’t bring yourself to turn around and stalk back the way you came. How much trouble would you be in if you skipped class? Probably a lot of trouble but-

Hearing your name, you snapped aware and frantically searched for the source.

Seeing Mika wander into the gardens, beautiful smile adorning his face, you swore you could collapse then and there. He waved as he approached you.

"I was hoping you'd be here! You didn’t come this morning and I was worried something had happened."

His voice alone was enough to revitalise your spirit and your legs dragged forward on their own, bringing you to him. He held out his hand for you to take, and once you were in range you did.

You didn't stop there, though. You took another few steps forward and walked straight into him, wrapping your free hand around his back as you smooshed your face into his shoulder.

Mika almost stumbled backward at the unexpected force, but he was quick to right himself and reciprocate. His arm wove around you.

Warmth, comfort and peace all exuded off him and you basked in it. It felt as though you melted in his embrace. The world fell away. It wasn't important right now, even all your troubles had vanished into the corners of your mind.

Mika leant his head back a little to try and get a glimpse at your face as he asked something, "Are you okay? Do you want to talk about it?" You simply shook your head against him and he hummed.

You stayed stood together for what felt like an eternity- by the time you parted you were already feeling much better. Looking up at him, he offered another charming smile- and you couldn’t help but return one.

 Taking a deep breath, you took his other hand in yours and simply stared down at them, willing yourself to go on- for him

"I have had an absolutely terrible morning."

Mika frowned at that, but you gave his hands a squeeze.

"But you've given me all the strength I need. I can handle anything the day throws at me!"

You shared another smile.

"Meet back here at break?"

"Of course."

Despite having said goodbye, neither of you were quite willing to move.

Finally you broke the standoff, pulling him into another hug and squeezing him once before letting go and turning on your heel. You yelled another goodbye, and you caught his on the wind as you headed back to class.

#mika kagehira x reader #mika kagehira #enstars x reader #ensemble stars x reader #enstars #ensemble stars #admin lemon

[cutesmokes]

A very silly gift for a very special person’s very special day <3 Happy birthday Tomo! Hope your day is as wonderful as you are!

The Just-Nots are trying to figure out the newest challenge two had assigned but, pillow has run off again. After the last time, it's obvious that she needed to be found as soon as possible. Book offers to go while the others try to work out their challenge but things end up going much sillier than book would have hoped for.

Day 2: accidental

“Uh guys- where did Pillow go?”

The group stopped, practically dropping everything as they swiveled in every direction, but Pillow was nowhere to be found. Even before leaving the Death Pact she had acted.. Strange. Everyone knew about pillow’s chaotic behavior, heck, she was roped into it so many times she had practically lost count. Sure, she was a victim to a more different kind of chaos, but it was still chaos all the same. With a sigh, dictionary volunteered to run off to find her while the others worked out the challenge. She made sure to make it clear she'd help as much as she could once Pillow was back in eyesight. Not really having the time to argue, the rest of the Just Nots nodded, letting the book run off on her own. Book dried desperately to find the girl, she really did, but it just seemed like she vanished without a trace. Tired from all the running around, the dictionary fell onto her face, resting for just a second to catch her breath. As she laid there, not even completely sure where she was, she could hear bickering, something completely normal around her. The yellow grass rustled as footsteps closed in on her, a familiar voice making her perk up, now sitting straight so that she could look at Pillow properly.

“Hey!”

“Pillow! Where did you go?! You can't just wander off- especially what happened last time!”

“I was just talking to a different team.” she replied a little too calmly before sitting behind the book, resting her hands on the top of her covers. “Can I look at your pictures?”

Dictionary noticeably jumped, but went on with her speech anyway.

“T-There was no way you were just t- talkING?! What is your obsession with my pictures?!”

Pillow had opened her up as she berated her, carefulling flipping through her pages while she examined each colorful illustration. It was the quick interruption in her scolding that got her attention. She really had not intended to start this silly game, but Book’s reaction had caught her attent. Slowly, without Book noticing, Pillow’s expression lifted from a numb smile to a mischievous smirk. One hand lifted off her front cover, hovering over a picture of a flower that rested towards the lower side of the page on the left.

“They're pretty. Especially this one.” slowly, her pointer descended across the page, fingertips gently tracing around it. The dictionary yelped, embarrassingly loudly before she tried turning over to face the other girl.

“Pillow! Stohahp-”

“Whoops. I forgot you were ticklish.” she said blandly, continuing her actions with no intent in stopping. Book had grabbed onto her ankles, trying to control the endorphin rush that ran through her spine.

“No you didnt! Y-youre doing this on purpuhuhuhHACK Nonononononononono- not the spIHIHINE-!

Pillow had quickly grown tired of reading and decided to go straight for the kill. Why start something and not do it right? One hand ran up and down the crease that bounded the cover and pages together while the other gently dug at the back cover. Dictionary was in shambles, kicking out her legs and swatting her hands violently, both an attempt to calm the butterflies in the pit of her stomach and to try to grab the offending hand on her cover. Nothing seemed to deter Pillow, however. Everything she did she just encouraged her. As her fingers ventured deeper into her binding, Book screamed, kicking so hard she fell back into pillow’s lap, accidentally nicking her knee during the tumble. The sensations stopped suddenly, fingers disappearing from within her spine. Book was giggling too hard to think right. Her hands rested tiredly against her chest in a “T-rex” like pose, her eyes squeezed shut as she tried to make sense of the thoughts fussing her brain. Seemingly from far away, however. She could hear Pillow speak.

‘You kicked me. That wasn't very nice.’ book’s eyes sprang open at the feeling of fingers around her ankle, pulling it so it now lay on her own thigh. In a panic, Book tried to explain it was just an accident, but her pleading melted into squeaky, hiccups giggles as Pillow’s hand scratched roughly at the back of her knee, her free hand going straight for the outer part of her spine. Cackling, Book fell back into the girl’s lap, clutching at the grass beneath them in a desperate attempt to ground herself. For what felt like hours, fingers skittered over every part of her body; soft lips across her palms, scratching nails in the inner side of her knees, pinching across her spine, whatever it was, it was unbearable. Within minutes, tears had stained her cheeks and the grass that was within her grasp was torn to shreds. From beneath her soul shaking laughter she could hear voices talking distinctly. With a final squeeze, causing the poor girl to snort, the fingers disappeared. Book could hardly stand, let alone sit up. From beside her, she could hear one of her other teammates talking, hearing the clear smile in their voice.

“Well.. I see you found Pillow. Once you catch your breath though, you should probably join us. We have twenty minutes left to complete the challenge.” grass rustled gently, signaling their departure. Book attempted to hide her face in her hands, but a finger poked her in the side, making her squeak.

“Heh. sorry. I just wanted to make sure you didn't fall asleep.”

She’d get pillow back. Someday…

Gah- i've never written for these two before haha- I hope I did them justice!

#lee!book #ler!pillow #Tpot tickles~ #that has a nice ring to it #sfw tickling community #smokers stories™ #tickletober 2023

[teawithkpop]

[M] - PhysCom - Pt 7

pt 1 - pt 2 - pt 3 - bc 1 - pt 4 - pt 5 - pt 6 - pt 7

Pairing: BTS - OT7 x Reader

Rating: Mature [18+]

Length: 5.4k words

Genre: PhysCom AU - smut with dashes of angst, and a shitload of romance and complicated feelings,, uhuhu (porn with plot??)

Warnings: swearing, a lot of emotional turmoil, talk of pregnancy scares (birth control, contraceptives, etc.), implied discrimination towards sex workers (not by any of the boys dw), mentions of sexual acts

slowly hands you a cake that says "I haven't updated this fic in 14 months and I don't know when the next part is coming but here's an update thanks for being patient" in comic sans

-------

The rush to the hospital goes by in a blur of tears and shouting and panic and questions that you can't bring yourself to answer. The only constant is Min Yoongi's hand, firmly locked in your own throughout the ordeal, tethering you to reality.

You now sit in a private room on a sterile medical table and wait to be seen, too numb inside to feel the sting of the cold metal as it cuts into the backs of your thighs. Yoongi stands beside you, still holding your hand, his fingers are laced through yours and squeezing as if it could sap away the fear that eats away your insides, leaving you hollow and empty.

"It'll be alright. Don't worry about a damn thing, okay?" He shifts his weight anxiously, betraying his own underlying worries.

You barely remember him throwing his jacket over you before being rushed out of the house, and you don't feel deserving of the modest coverage. Though the leather is worn and soft against your skin, all you can feel is the harsh metallic zipper, scratching at your chest as though reminding you of your wrongdoings.

"Yoongi…" you start to say, but he cuts you off, his voice a hoarse whisper.

"Don't you fucking dare. Don't apologize."

You feel tears well up in your eyes. Your chest grows tight with the words he's forbidden you to say.

"I've already called Namjoon, it'll all be fine. Don't worry." He works his jaw and rubs your hand with surprising tenderness, glancing to the little window in the door every other second.

He's been assuring you with those same words for the past half hour, but it feels like it's been an eternity. As you glance at the clock on the wall, watching the hands tick by, you imagine a scene like that of a health documentary. Tiny sperm, swimming up your insides… fertilizing your previously dormant eggs.

Fuck. You've fucked up.

You might be pregnant with Min Yoongi's child. Your Opticon birth control implant could send you into toxic shock at any moment.

You don't see how things can get much worse than this.

The door finally opens, and what appears to be a nurse steps inside. She holds a clipboard, and examines it while she lets the door close behind her. "Let's see now, Miss..." Her shoulders slump marginally as her eyes reach your name. "Oh, right. The PhysCom."

You don't have the energy to ignore the change in her tone from friendly to disinterested, and simply nod. However, you feel Yoongi stiffen beside you.

The nurse lets out a brief sigh and dons a professional expression. "So, what appears to be the problem?" She directs the question to Yoongi.

"We think her birth control implant isn't working." Yoongi explains, his eyes darting furtively between you and the nurse. "She, um… she reached orgasm."

You flush at the memory, ashamed of your failure to adhere to even the most basic of rules set before you.

The nurse makes a noncommittal noise and jots something down. "Says here it’s an Opticon. And you didn't turn it off, sir?"

He shakes his head.

The nurse touches the end of her pen to her mouth, a note of sympathy forming in her eyes. Not for you, but for Yoongi. "How long have you had her?"

"Excuse me?" Yoongi raises an eyebrow.

The nurse tucks the clipboard under her arm, giving him a weary, patient smile. “With PhysComs, we have a list of probable scenarios we’re supposed to check for, to better inform the doctor of the situation, and speed along the treatment process.”

She barely spares you a glance before returning her attention to Yoongi, her voice lowered just a fraction. “It’s not uncommon for newly hired female PhysComs to try and… well, intentionally get pregnant from their clients. Especially if those clients have any amount of wealth or status.”

Yoongi seems lost for words.

She nods as if to agree with his surprise. “It’s some psychosis associated with the job,” she says with a shrug, then straightens her posture once more. “So has she been acting strangely at all? What are her symptoms?”

Your ears burn a bit at being talked about like you’re not in the room, but this isn’t the first time you’ve been in such a position. Oftentimes checkups during training were the same way, the physicians would speak exclusively among themselves and Madame while they examined every inch of you, inside and out.

Yoongi, however, is not used to such an experience.

“Why don’t you ask her yourself?” He says, in a voice much calmer than you would have expected. But one glance at his face tells you all you need to know. His eyes are burning like hot coals. Molten and dangerous.

The nurse doesn’t pick up on his irritation, and busily flips through the pages on her clipboard. “I need reliable information, sir. If you please,” she prompts him.

You can feel Yoongi’s hand clench around yours, and you turn to quiet him.

“It’s okay,” you murmur, hoping to reassure him enough so he’ll talk to her, but he stands his ground, his eyes glued on the nurse.

“Get out,” Yoongi says.

The nurse does a double take. “Excuse me, sir?”

“I said get the fuck out of here.” He points to the door. “Send us someone who will actually help.”

She fumes silently for a moment, but decides not to argue with him, and heads for the door in a huff.

Yoongi scoffs as you two are left alone once more. “What the fuck kind of bedside manner was that supposed to be?” He mutters, staring at the door.

“It’s okay.” You place a hand on his arm.

“No, it’s not.” He’s adamant, and you sigh wearily. How do you explain that this is only what can be expected?

You pick out a few haphazard words from the maelstrom in your brain, too tired to find the best phrasing. “Medical personnel… they don’t really get it.”

“Get what?” He asks, turning to you in outrage. “Being a fucking decent human being?”

You flinch, withdrawing your hand. You’re too tired to try and get your point across. But he notices you wilt and immediately comes closer, lowering his voice and placing both his hands on your arms. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, the edge of anger fading away to gentleness. Kindness. “What do you mean?”

You sigh, looking off to the side. You don’t deserve to have him look at you like that.

You carefully remove his hands, trying to maintain some semblance of a professional distance, even in the face of disaster. “Most hospitals don’t look favorably at PhysComs. We were given a few lectures about it in training. We use up their resources and time that could instead be given to patients who didn’t willingly put themselves at risk.”

You remember how your fellow trainees had reacted after those discussions. Many of them found the treatment to be unfair, but you yourself felt that, in a way, the medical field’s viewpoint was reasonable. Your choices are what landed you here.

“What the- what are you talking about?” He huffs, still seemingly in the dark. “You didn’t ask for this… this scare. It wasn’t your fault.” He tries to meet your eyes, but your gaze is fixed firmly to the linoleum floor.

A mirthless smile paints your lips. “But I chose this life. And these risks along with it.”

Before he can question you further, the door bursts open and Kim Namjoon enters the room, both his dress shirt and his hair are rumpled, and his eyes are frantic. “Sweetheart?” He rushes to your side and crushes you in a hug. “Are you alright?”

You hear Yoongi let out a breath of relief. “She’s okay, for the moment.”

Something about the way Namjoon holds you feels like a lamp being held against your cold skin. You’re too damp inside to light a flame yourself, but his own body warms you from the outside in the meantime. You want to let yourself enjoy it, but the memory of your unresolved questions leaves you limp in his arms, filled with nothing but misery and confusion.

He pulls back after a moment, checking you over for signs of injury. His eyes are wide with concern. “What happened? Tell me everything.”

A flare of shame rises up in you at the notion of telling Namjoon about your rule-breaking and everything that occured since this morning.

Thankfully, Yoongi seems to sense your hesitance, and he fills in most of the pieces for Namjoon. Namjoon’s expression remains stoic as Yoongi recounts what happened - you being brought home unconcious, seducing Yoongi - up until the mention of your orgasm. Namjoon’s jaw slackens slightly at this, and his eyes scan your face, searching for something.

It’s at this moment that the doctor walks in, a different nurse at his side. He’s a slightly older man, a few wrinkles creasing his brow, and a smile that appears kind until it lands on you. His face is then tinged with that same indifference that most medical professionals give you.

You wish it was your usual physician, but since this was an emergency, you didn’t have time to take the trip to your usual practice. Whatever hospital is nearest, that’s what Yoongi had told the driver.

The man turns to Namjoon, who arguably commands more presence than Yoongi, and the kindness returns. “Sorry for the delay. Busy night. From what I understand, your PhysCom has malfunctioned, is that correct?”

“Her Opticon malfunctioned, yes.” Namjoon corrects him. His diplomatic tendencies are a blessing right now. You just want to know if you’re pregnant or not. You want to know if you’re losing your job. You want to go home.

The doctor runs a few physical tests on you, feeling your breasts, peering down your throat, and examining your vaginal canal, checking for any other symptoms of malfunction from your Opticon. “All’s well so far.” He says, pulling his forefingers out of you, snapping off his gloves, and disposing of them. “May I take a look at the ComGear?”

You feel a flash of panic, waking you out of your stupor. Fuck, was it still in the group chat? You pull out the slim device, heart hammering as you check. Nope. Just settings. Thank god.

You hand it over, and then remember with a looming feeling of dread exactly why it might have been left on the settings page...

“You do so much for us, jagiya.” Taehyung keeps his hands braced on your arms, his thumb rubbing gently against your skin. “You’re always there for us. Always giving… Now it’s time for you to receive.”

“I’m sorry! It’s my fault-” Jimin’s eyes fall to your compromising position, Yoongi’s dick still out, your leaking core exposed, and claps a hand over his mouth. He looks like he might cry. “Oh no...”

The pieces fall into place, and there’s no doubt in your mind. They must have switched it off.

But why? Why, why, why…?

The doctor - you’re too frazzled to read his nametag - pulls out a pair of reading glasses and takes a look at your ComGear, poking around the device with his pointer finger. “Hm. Strange.” He squints. “The Opticon does appear to be switched off.”

Namjoon blinks. “That’s impossible.”

“I’m afraid that’s the case.” The doctor shows him the setting, the toggle very much in the off position. Namjoon takes the device and looks at it in shock.

The doctor coughs. “I know that, um… for some individuals, the temptation and the… risk associated with no protection during intercourse can be sexually arousing. It’s not the first time we’ve gotten a case like this.”

He removes his glasses, folding them back into his pocket. “However, I would remind you and anyone else who uses this one’s services that although Physical Companions may be virtually expendable, it can become quite expensive for your own sake to impregnate them on a whim, using and discarding them, what with the standard fees for breaching their contract and-”

“Thank you, Doctor.” Namjoon interrupts him, and you notice the iron grip he now has on Yoongi’s arm. Likely the only thing restraining him from throwing a punch. “We’ll be more careful.” Namjoon glances at you, confusion making a little crease between his brows. “Is there some sort of morning after pill she can take, or…?”

“I’m afraid the lingering effects of the Opticon implant render any outside hormone blockers ineffective.” The doctor says, his smile turning thin. “It’s a bit of a blessing and a curse. The hormone production and ovulation suppressant in the Opticon normally make the chance of fertilization zero percent while in use. After it’s switched off, chances are still fairly low at 30 percent, for up to 24 hours. But the chances of fertilization after taking a morning after pill are significantly lower than that, at only five percent.”

He shrugs. “We’ll just have to wait and see. Chances are, your PhysCom will be right as rain and ready to pleasure clients again in about a week.”

A week.

First a week of suspension on Namjoon’s terms… Now it’s on medical advisement.

“A week? What should we do until then?” Namjoon voices your very thoughts, Yoongi seething silently beside him.

“Well, we won’t have any results until three to five days from now.” The man clarifies. “But I highly recommend you leave the implant switched off and keep her on traditional contraceptives until we know for sure. I strongly recommend utilizing other PhysComs in the meantime, just to be safe.”

You’re finished.

The doctor hands Namjoon a paper bag, most likely containing birth control pills and condoms. “She may be somewhat volatile for the next few days. You can bring her in for another checkup in a week.”

You’re weak.

“Thank you.”

You’re numb.

-------

It was a silent car ride back to the house, and as Namjoon helps you step out of the vehicle, one hand holding yours for stability while the other rests on your lower back, you can’t help feeling utterly useless. Detached from your surroundings.

What’s the point of any of this now? There’s no way they’ll want to use you until this is resolved. You’re of no use to them as a sex toy until at least a week from now, and by then it’ll be far too late to earn their favor back.

“We need to have a meeting. Call the others into the living room.” Namjoon speaks to Yoongi in an undertone, and you feel a small ache of hope. Maybe things will work out if everyone just talks to each other.

But when you enter the house and Namjoon begins to steer you upstairs, you finally find your voice.

“No.” You resist against him, turning around at the base of the stairs. “No, I want to be part of the meeting.”

The surprise quickly fades from his face, instead turning to concern. “You need to rest."

Something about the look on his face, about being told yet again through his actions that this doesn’t concern you, it causes something inside you to snap, your apathy vanishing in the wake of this new beast beginning to rear its ugly head within you.

Your throat closes up and a scream erupts from your aching chest. "You don't know what I need!"

Namjoon matches your desperation with an infuriatingly patient look of sympathy. He approaches you, his hand outstretched, but you stagger back away from him. He smiles sadly and drops his hand. "Stay here. It's what's best for you."

What's best for you.

The words throb in your mind, like the memory of an old wound. They bounce listlessly off the walls of your grandiose prison long after Namjoon shuts the door, sealing you away again.

You don't know what comes over you as you see visions of launching yourself at the door, pounding and scratching at the wood like a wild animal.

You could just open the door and follow him downstairs. Some part of you does register that.

But you want them to hear you. You want them to hear you rip your throat raw as you exorcise your demons.

You blink and you're standing still.

You haven't moved.

Your spacious room feels stifling. Like the walls are closing in on you, suffocating you.

Silken ropes sway in the dusk, catching your eye from beyond the balcony window. Your escape route from earlier that day.

You don't think twice before stuffing a few meager belongings into the long forgotten backpack kicked beneath your bed.

You need to leave this place.

You can't stay here.

-------

It had started drizzling not long after you left the house, and even now as you sit on the damp curbside, waiting for the next bus to take you far away from this place, it strikes you as funny, in a way, that the weather is crying for you, since you can't muster any tears of your own.

It's cold and misty, a foreboding atmosphere, by all accounts. It makes you question if what you're about to do is the right call.

But you shut down the arguments in your head as quickly as they appear.

Second guessing was what had gotten you into this situation. You need to follow your instincts.

And your instincts are telling you to flee.

It won't be so bad, you try to convince yourself. After the first night on the road, you'll eventually find a new town, a new home, a new place for yourself in this fucked up world. You've done it before, you can do it again.

You're considering suitable aliases for your new persona, when you sense another person approaching, their shoes tramping through the wet grass.

You don't look up at them, hoping they'll pass by and leave you alone. But they come to a stop beside you.

You keep your gaze on the road, droplets rippling the puddled potholes.

Then the stranger goes to sit on the curb too, and you can't help but look at them.

You'd recognize those lips anywhere, even beneath a baggy hooded sweatshirt.

"It's a bit late to run errands, don't you think?" Seokjin says, pulling his sleeves down to keep out the chill as he perches beside you.

He glances at you, then looks ahead at the road, the same way you were. You return your gaze forward, too exhausted to make a run for it. Though you don't get the sense that he would chase after you, even if you tried to escape.

Maybe that's exactly why you decide to stay put, but you don't give the suspicion any more thought.

"What do you want?" You finally ask, your voice croaky from being silent for so long.

"Nothing."

"Liar," you mutter, hugging your knees to your chest. "Everyone wants something."

He chuckles. Rests back on his hands. "I guess you're right about that."

Damn right you are. You didn't study the human condition through your years of training to be fooled so easily by pretty words.

"So?" You prompt him, still staring at the dreary horizon.

He takes a moment to respond. The silence is punctuated by the distant noises of traffic, an occasional car passing by, its headlights shimmering in the mist before disappearing down the road.

“The others are all out looking for you, you know,” he says simply. “Why do you think that is?”

If it were anyone else that had run away - their manager, a friend - you know what the answer would be. Because they care about that person. But how can you believe that about yourself, when you know you can never amount to anyone with that level of importance to them?

Ironic, since you’re the person with which they can be most intimate and vulnerable.

“I’m a liability,” you reply halfheartedly.

His silence serves to confirm your suspicions. A runaway PhysCom? Far too risky for a group at their level. You could become one of those anonymous sources like you saw in the news. A firsthand account of the BTS members’ secret sexual urges. Unacceptable. Snatches of words from the NDA you signed buzz around the edges of your mind like stray flies.

But since you're no longer connected to your network, then your tracker is probably disconnected. If the bus had come just a little earlier, you might already have escaped without a trace.

“You really think that’s the only reason?” Seokjin’s voice pulls you back to the moment.

His abysmal attempt to divert from the problem gets a hollow laugh out of you.

“Any other reason has ulterior motives. It’s just business.” You check the time on your ComGear. The bus should be here any minute. “I’m leaving, and I won’t let you stop me.”

“I don’t intend to,” he agrees, to your surprise. “God knows you’ve been put through enough.” He then leans forward, resting his forearms across his legs. “But for what it’s worth, you deserve to know the truth.”

Your ears perk up at this.

Seokjin seems to take your silence as permission to continue. “The reason we decided to suspend you. It wasn’t… entirely selfless.”

You purse your lips in irritation and fix your gaze upon the horizon, settling your chin beneath your crossed arms. “Right. Ulterior motives, like I said.”

He clicks his tongue. “Touche.”

You wait for him to continue, but he doesn't.

Your curiosity gets the better of you.

“So, what… were you planning to replace me?” You ask, trying to sound contemptuous. “I heard you all having your little group meeting in the kitchen. There are plenty of shiny new whores at your disposal, take your pick.”

He still makes no noise.

You wait, preparing to accept a bitter confirmation of all your fears.

But then he finds his voice. “We could never replace you, dear.”

You stop. Look over at him. His eyes are half lidded, his smile bittersweet as he stares off into the distance. After a few moments, he fishes around in his pocket and pulls something out, then hands it to you.

His smartphone.

“Here,” he murmurs, sympathy in the quirk of his lips. “In case you need to call anyone. Those devices they give you don’t have a cell plan, I assume.”

He seems to sense your wariness, and waves the phone a bit in a gesture of insistence. “I can buy a dozen new ones. It’s no trouble.”

You very hesitantly take it. “Thanks.”

Of course, he has no way to know that your ComGear is now jailbroken, for all intents and purposes. But… is this a trap? What if there’s a tracker in the phone? But why would he need to put a tracker in it if he doesn’t know your ComGear is off the grid?

The rumble of an approaching motor pulls you out of your cyclical thoughts, and you get on your feet, slowly coming out of your dissociative sulk.

But you still feel numb. Nothing matters anymore.

Nothing at all.

Jin gets up along with you, slipping his hands into his hoodie pocket. “Stay safe, alright?”

You give a brief nod of acknowledgment, only half in his direction as you shrug your bag onto your shoulder more securely. The hydraulics of the bus screech as the vehicle comes to a stop and lowers slightly, allowing you to step onboard.

You glance back, fully expecting Jin to stop you. But he doesn’t. He blinks raindrops out of his eyes while you board, and gives you a small smile once the doors close behind you. He lifts a hand in farewell, then turns and starts to walk away down the street.

He’s really letting you go.

You pay your fare and find a seat towards the back of the nearly empty bus. Rain pelts at the windows, picking up in earnest, and it feels like yet another layer, another barrier, separating yourself and creating an ever-growing chasm from the life you knew up until yesterday.

You pull out Jin’s phone, staring at the dark screen and wiping away stray raindrops from the surface with your sleeve. Why had he come to find you, if not to stop you?

“But for what it’s worth, you deserve to know the truth.”

Maybe he felt guilty. Or remorseful for the hell you’ve been put through recently. You would normally have felt immense satisfaction at such a thought.

But you can’t feel much of anything right now.

You don’t think you’ll be able to feel properly again. At least not for a long, long time…

Hm? The screen lit up. You must have pressed a button by accident. You swipe at it again, and to your surprise it unlocks. Who doesn’t put a passcode on their phone?

Is it possible… he disabled it before he gave it to you? Maybe. Whatever. You’re so tired of thinking, playing investigator and second guessing people’s motivations.

You scroll over to the phone icon, and tap on it, briefly considering calling your parents. But the wetness on your fingers messes with the touchscreen and you open the messages app instead.

You’re about to wipe the screen and try again, but… the most recent messages are… all about you. You tap on the group chat among the seven of them, currently bustling with activity.

[ Kim Namjoon ]: has anyone found her [ Park Jimin ]: hyung I’m so sorry [ Park Jimin ]: it’s all my fault [ Min Yoongi ]: she’s not at the studio [ Kim Namjoon ]: we’ll talk about it later Jimin [ Kim Namjoon ]: everyone keep looking [Jeon Jungkook]: manager said they can call her network to track her down [Kim Taehyung ]: should we do that? [ Jung Hoseok ]: no! she could get in trouble :( [ Min Yoongi ]: she’s not a stray pet [ Kim Namjoon ]: exactly [ Kim Namjoon ]: we need to keep this quiet for her sake [Kim Taehyung ]: she hasn’t replied to my texts or calls [ Min Yoongi ]: me neither [Jeon Jungkook]: hyung... will she be okay? [ Kim Namjoon ]: everything will be fine don’t worry [ Kim Namjoon ]: we’re going to fix this somehow [ Min Yoongi ]: whatever it takes [ Jung Hoseok ]: where could she have gone... [ Park Jimin ]: what if she doesn’t come back?

You scroll further up, past days and weeks and months of texts between them… not even a day between mentions of you. Wondering if you’re alright. Hoping you’ve eaten enough. Wanting to do more with you.

The thread of texts Jimin sent to Seokjin just yesterday.

Hyung I wish things were different I want to hold her I want to tell her she’s enough I wish I could kiss her… I think I love her Do you ever feel that way?

And Seokjin’s reply.

I do I know just what you mean Why do you think I turned those secondaries away last night, hm? No one can compare She really is special…

He didn’t… fuck the secondaries? After you broke at dinner, he… didn’t...?

You switch to his thread with Namjoon from a few days ago.

I know you’re our leader but I don’t think this is the way to go You need to be more cautious

Namjoon’s reply.

What we need is action, hyung If we work together on this, we could get rid of these unnecessary rules We could all have what we want Including her It’s what’s best for everyone

Seokjin took several minutes to reply.

You’re going to lose her.

Jin knew. He tried to talk Namjoon out of writing that stupid essay, or maybe it was about your suspension.

Either way, he defended you.

You open his thread with Hoseok. Dimly, you recognize that you shouldn’t be snooping, but you’re too absorbed to stop.

Hyung, I think she really wants this All of us ♡ I don’t know how, but we need to show her that it’s okay That we want it just as much

How do you know that’s what she wants?

I can’t say ♡ But I know now She wouldn’t reject us Our feelings She feels something too

The date and time lines up with this morning. The morning after he made love to you.

He didn’t tell them. He kept your secret.

“Our feelings”? What does he mean? Him, Jimin, Taehyung… Seokjin? Do they all…?

Your head spins, the hollowness of your heart filling with a rush of jumbled emotions, like a tide crashing in. All your numbness is washed out with light, just a pinprick at first, that grows rapidly into a ray of warmth as you consider what all this could mean. The chasm starts to narrow, and you get the urge to jump ship, to turn back and figure this shit out. To know once and for all what they want from you. What you mean to them.

But how can you trust this isn’t a trap? How can you be sure?

The answer is as simple as they come.

You can’t.

You can’t be absolutely certain that their intentions are pure… that this is the right thing to do… that you won’t be hurt again.

But maybe... trust isn’t about being infallible. Being right. Being sure.

Maybe it’s built on what ifs. On trying again, even with no guarantees.

Guarantees are only as good as their word, and talk is cheap. Lies are easy. Your Opticon had a 100% guarantee, and look where that got you.

But you remember the way Hoseok held you that night, and made love to you like you’ve never felt in your life... When Jimin kissed his way down your body, with only the best of intentions. Namjoon’s strong arms embracing you when you felt powerless. Yoongi’s hand never leaving yours, even while you waited in the hospital. Jungkook carrying you home after you fainted, breaking your door to make sure you were safe in bed. The look in Taehyung’s eyes when he finally kissed you, breaking the ice you’d been growing around your heart.

How Seokjin let you go.

Maybe...

You get up with a start, rush to the front of the bus, and hastily ask the driver to let you off, much to the old man’s disgruntlement, but the moment the doors whoosh open, you take off at a run.

You want to go home.

You want to try again.

No matter how much you try to bury it, to forget the way they make you feel, you care about them. All of them. On a much deeper level than that of a PhysCom and client. And it scares you.

But you’re done running from fear. From uncertainty.

Now you’re running towards it willingly, as you give chase down the torrential streets, searching for that familiar hooded figure and hoping you’re not too late. You’re embracing the doubt, the fear, the uncertainty, the paranoia... letting their shadowy claws sink into you until they can’t hurt you anymore. Until they fade away, cowering under the glow of your determination.

You’re setting some new rules for yourself, no longer letting fear control your thoughts and actions, barring you from any chance of happiness.

You see Seokjin in the distance, trudging home through the pouring rain. You run faster.

You’re fucking terrified. But you’ve never felt so free in your life.

“Jin!” You shout to get his attention, still a block away. He turns around, and shakes his head, seemingly confused, but a smile starts to appear. You smile too.

Finally, you catch up to him, and without warning, you throw your arms around his shoulders. Damn, he’s always taller than you remember.

He laughs, shocked by your change of heart. “What are you doing?”

“I want to hear you say it.” You reply, looking up at him as rain dashes down your face. You don’t know when you started crying, but you’re grateful to the weather for masking your tears.

“Say what?” He asks, his hands resting on your waist to support you. Thunder rumbles in the distance, rain sliding down his perfect face.

“How you feel about me.” You reply, studying his eyes. “Be honest.”

He seems to sense the gravity in your words. He holds you closer. His eyes soften.

“I think I’ve fallen in love with you.”

For the first time since all of this started, you sense no deception in his words, no double meaning, no hidden agenda.

Because you aren’t searching for reasons to doubt this time.

You’re searching for reasons to trust, and you find them.

You want to kiss him. So you do.

#bts #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts x reader smut #bts x reader #bts fanfiction #bts ot7 #bts ot7 smut #bts smut fic #bts fic rec #yoongi x reader #namjoon x reader #seokjin x reader #thank you all for waiting ;w;

[tangledstarlight]

...i said i was going to make it and well, here we are i guess. im so sorry for this.

Carlos Molina’s to Guide to Ghost Hood (title subject to change) 

welcome to the 1st edition, maybe i’ll make a 2nd if i get inspired enough but also, this is such a mess already i don’t think the world needs a part 2 dfghg

Link to the power point is in the first reblog. (i’d highly recommend watching it for the full experience dfgh)

Link to ao3 also in the first reblog. 

below the cut is the accompanying fic and description of the rules/guide.

The tape recorder lets out a low buzzing sound as Carlos presses a button on the side and stands it up between them on the dining room table. Julie shoots an amused glance at Reggie who’s taken up residence in the chair next to him, the two of them flipping open notebooks and clutching pencils. 

“Where did you even find a tape recorder?” She wonders, stretching out a finger to touch the silver rectangle only for her hand to be swatted away by Reggie.

“Found it in a box of moms stuff and dad said we could order some tapes from amazon,” Carlos replies matter of factly, straightening up in his chair once he seems to have found the page he was looking for. “Right. Let's start off easy, shall we?” 

He looks at her expectantly and Julie rolls her eyes, waving a hand at the two of them, “Lets.” 

“Question one,” Carlos taps his pencil at the top of his page before squinting at her, “Did you conduct any séance related activities before the ghosts showed up?” 

Julie blinks at him, wondering if he’s joking but the pair of them just look back at her, heads both slightly tilted and it’s at that moment that she realises how serious they’re going to be about this. It was going to be a long afternoon of questioning apparently. 

“No, I didn’t conduct any séance related activities. I just put on their CD and they y’know, fell out of the sky.” 

“Interesting, interesting,” Carlos mutters as he looks at Reggie’s notebook as the older boy writes her answer down, underlines something and taps it with his pencil that makes Carlos let out a small hm. “So you don’t know anything about the dark room? Didn’t make any wishes?” 

“No,” Julie shakes her head, watches Reggie write something else down and tilt his notebook to Carlos. It’s weird, watching them communicate like that, like they’ve created a shorthand between them and don’t even require her presence to have a conversation. Which is obviously true because they’ve clearly discussed all this beforehand. 

“You walked through Luke right? What did that feel like to you?” Reggie’s question catches her off guard and she looks between them, but Carlos is already looking at her, waiting for her answer. 

“It was um cold? But also not. I--” she frowns, trying to think back to that first night in the kitchen when she’d turned around and walked through him. Back when she’s barely known any of them and was more annoyed by their presence then comforted. “It was weird. The first few seconds after I walked through him I just felt cold but then it was like a rush of warmth? You know when you get one of those random shivers that runs through your whole body? It feels all weird and tingly but also kinda nice? Like that.” 

“Did it feel like you got a feel of Luke?” Carlos asks and Julie shrugs, a slight blush on her cheeks and somehow, despite the fact they can’t see each other, the two of them share a look. 

“What’s the next question,” anything to move off the topic of walking through Luke and how it felt. 

//

“Oh Julie is gonna be so pissed at you guys,” Alex mutters but makes no move to step in and stop the ‘experiment’ currently going on. He watches as Reggie tries to put a hand on Carlos’ shoulder, fingers phasing through the younger boy's jacket with a frown. 

“She won't be pissed if it works,” is all Reggie says, face morphing into one of concentration as he slowly lowers his hand on to Carlos’ shoulder again. 

For his part, Carlos bounces slightly on his toes, eyes fixed on the notebook in Alex’s hand in case they need to tell him something. And okay, Alex might not fully agree with the way the two of them are going about this whole thing, but he can’t say he’s not on board with it. Their whole stint as ghosts has been nothing but confusion after confusion that not even Willie has answers for. Does he think Reggie and Carlos are going to uncover some fundamental thing that makes them the way they are? Probably not. Will they maybe get him some kind of answer? God he hopes so. 

Especially since there’s been small moments in the last few weeks where Ray and Carlos have been able to hear them even without them playing music or Julie nearby. Which had scared all of them. Thought it was nothing compared to Ray’s reaction when he’d apparently walked into the kitchen to find Julie and Luke hugging, only for him to vanish when they suddenly let go. It was a hell of a way to find out they could be seen if they were touching her. 

“Oh!” Carlos suddenly exclaims, head whipping to look at his shoulder where Reggie’s hand is resting solidly on the fabric of the jacket. Alex feels his eyes widen a fraction and watches Reggie’s smile widen as he squeezes slightly on Carlos’ shoulder. “Oh my god! I can feel that!” 

“Holy shit,” Alex whispers, grip on the pencil in his fingers growing. 

“Hey! I heard that too! Quick! Write it down! 30 minutes and- and however many attempts it took!” Carlos grins, face turning towards him and Alex doesn’t even have time to feel guilty about swearing before he’s scribbling in Reggie’s notebook.

//

“Thanks again for taking me,” Carlos says as he pulls his seat belt across his chest and clicks it in, eyes drifting from his tia in the front seat to the little notebook resting on the back seat and the pencil that’s hovering just a few inches off the paper. Subtly he sees it tap on the page, once, twice, and he bites down on his grin, tucking his hands under his thighs to stop from bouncing in his seat. They’re ready. 

“Of course mijo,” Victoria smiles over at him as she turns on the engine, fingers already messing with the buttons on the radio to find her favourite station. “I have to say I’m impressed. Planning ahead for your dad's birthday.” 

“Mhm,” he agrees, his eyes on the notebook that he can just see in the rearview mirror. The pencils resting between the creases in the pages and he holds his breath as the radio jumps to a different station. 

Victoria frowns slightly, her eyes darting from the road to the radio and back, hand reaching out to change it back. When it jumps to another station. And another. Carlos feels his eyes widen a little, legs bouncing on top of his hands as he watches the radio cycle through station after station, only lingers for a few seconds on each before moving on. 

Finally it stops, the words of Despacito ringing through the car and it’s lucky they’re at a red light he thinks, because when Victoria tries to change it it jumps right back. 

“What the f-” she starts, the furrow between her brows growing deeper and the knuckles on her hand that’s still gripping the wheel turning white. 

“Can we leave it? I like this song,” he looks over at her with a smile, blinking in what he hopes is a completely innocent way. He’s pretty sure she’s too distracted by the radio to question it. 

“Sure, sure,” she mutters, not even looking at him, eyes going from the road to the radio. 

The song ends and from the corner of his eye he can see the pencil in the back moving, Reggie or Willie writing something down and he has to stop himself from turning around to see what it is. Instead he watches as tia starts changing the radio station again, her fingers never leaving the touch screen as if that was the problem. But the second she lands on her favourite 80’s classics station and is moving her fingers away it changes. Skipping through stations again until Despacito is once again filling the car. 

It’s probably lucky that they’re at another red light and that there’s no one behind them because her eyes widen and she’s suddenly saying words in Spanish that he knows he shouldn’t know and is pulling over to the side of the road. 

“We have to get out! The car is being possessed! Out, out Carlos! Come on!” Her seat belt is off and her door is open before Carlos even has a chance to process what’s happening. The notebook from the back is pushed in front of his face and he tilts his head a little to side to read Reggie’s familiar handwriting, 

Too far? 

“Maybe,” he whispers back, taking the notebook out of the ghost's hand as he starts to get out of the car, plucking the pencil out of the metal spirals and making a note about not pushing tia in a moving vehicle and to wait until after they’ve gone shopping first. 

She’s got her phone pressed to ear when he joins her on the sidewalk, pacing up and down. Carlos is pretty sure there’s going to be a family dinner story time in their near future. 

//

Luke watches as Carlos sets his tape recorder up, idly plucking out a half finished tune on his guitar in order to be seen and heard. He doesn’t really get the other boys interest in figuring out their ghostly state of being. The same way he doesn’t really care about finding answers to all of Alex’s questions. 

They ate some bad street dogs. They died. Julie brought them back and then she saved them a second time. They can play music and sometimes be seen. He already has all the answers he needs and it’s two words: Julie Molina. 

Would it be nice to know what the black room was? Sure. Did he sometimes wonder why they could be seen but other ghosts couldn't? Sometimes. Did he want answers? Only if someone was going to give them to him without having to do the work. Was he going to sit here and answer all of Carlos’ questions because it was important to him and to the others? Fuck yeah he was. 

“Does that think pick up our voices even if we’re not playing and not near Julie?” He nods at the recorder on the table after Carlos hits a button. 

“Yeah! It’s so cool too. You sound like, all static-y and I have to listen really hard sometimes because your voices fade in and out but they’re there!” 

Okay, Luke can admit that is pretty cool, “That’s wicked. Maybe we should start using that to communicate instead of writing.” He was really sick of people commenting on his handwriting. 

“Dude that’s genius! It would be like leaving each other voice notes!” He gestures in the air with his pencil the same way Julie does when she’s realised the issue with a verse and Luke smiles softly. He doesn’t know what voice notes are, but he’s glad he could contribute to the communication issue. 

“What questions have you got for me then little dude?” He raises an eyebrow at Carlos as he flips through his notebook. 

//

When he’d first knocked Alex down Willie never thought it would lead to him sitting in the Molina’s family living room, a whiteboard resting on his knees as a twelve year old shows him bar graphs and pie charts of information on ghosts. 

There was probably some kind of domino-butterfly effect going on that had led him here. But he’s too busy trying to fit all his know ghost knowledge onto a whiteboard so Carlos can fill in the gaps in his knowledge. 

Over the years Willie has met a lot of lifers, has interacted with a handful at the HGC but he’s never met a family like the Molina’s. Who found out ghosts were real and instead of running, or trying to profit off of them, had just...welcomed them into the family. Arms wide and hearts open. 

And more than that, here was Carlos trying to get answers to questions that none of them really had an answer too. 

“Black room, yes or no?” Carlos asks, holding up a flash card and a clothes peg, ready to add it to the line of string stretching across the room. It was already littered with other cards in an order that Willie really didn’t understand but seemed to make perfect sense to the younger boy and Reggie. 

Not for me, or anyone I asked at the club, he scribbles down, turning to the board around. 

“Just like we thought,” he nods to himself, taking two steps to the left and reaching up to attach the card, “An anomaly.” he whispers it to himself and Willie has to bite his lip to stop from smiling before remembering that Carlos can’t actually see him. 

“Hey,” Alex’s voice from the doorway drags his gaze away from the lifer and the smile he’d been trying to stop spreads across his face, “How’s it going?”

“I don’t think we’re even half way through,” he chuckles, gesturing with one hand at the stack of flashcards and the charts he hasn’t even seen yet. “Do you understand this system?” 

The exasperated laugh that leaves Alex’s lips is answer enough before he’s even shaking his head, strands of blonde hair dipping into his eyes and Willie wants to reach to move away, “Not a clue. They’ve tried to explain it to us but it makes zero sense to anyone but them.”  

“Hey, Alex, stop distracting him, we’re working here!” Carlos’ voice makes him jump, head turning back to where he’s standing with his arms crossed and shaking his head in disappointment in the vague direction of where Alex is standing. 

“Wait, can he see you?” Willie frowns, mind trying to remember if he knew this or not. 

“No, he’s just really good at sensing us these days,” Alex sighs, but there’s a fond look in his eyes as he looks at Carlos, “He says it’s his ghost powers kicking in from how often he hangs out with Reggie and from all the failed teleportation experiments.” 

“The failed what now?” 

“Oh, you’ll find out. I think it’s section 7?” Alex grins, pushing off from where he’d been leaning against the doorway and waving.

Willie turns back to Carlos feeling a little more confused than he had minutes ago but also much more intrigued about teleportation experiments. And if he could help get some answers for any of the many questions Alex had, that was cool too.

//

Carlos Molina’s Guide to Ghosting. So you became a ghost, huh?

 (working title, subject to change)

By Carlos Molina, with special thanks to Reggie Peters and Willie Skateboard. 

1st Edition. 

Dedicated to Alex Mercer, so he can stop asking so many questions. We’re working on it buddy.

1. Tangibility 

They can walk through anything (except my sister now, reasons still unclear). 

Works especially well with walls, doors and locked vaults (see exhibit a) 

When they walk through people it “allows them to get a feel for the person” – Reggie Peters. “It’s weird” – Alex Mercer. No comment from Luke Patterson as he was too busy staring at Julie. 

2. Souls

Objects can be attached to their souls. 

Still unclear if it has to be an object that they were close to in life, or if they can attach their souls to any object once a ghost. 

Experiments with Reggie Peters are still ongoing. Updates will follow.

3. Being Seen

Can be seen by “lifers*” when they play music with Julie. 

This is the first rule which only applies to our ghosts. 

They can be heard when they play music without Julie. This is also unclear as to why, working theory is “Our music is just so awesome it transcends deaths!” – Luke Patterson.

Mr Willie Skateboard was quick to point out it’s “weird” and “ghosts aren’t supposed to be seen by lifers.”

4. Touching

Our ghosts can now touch Julie. The biggest change in their afterlife. 

Still no explanation for it. Experiments are ongoing (see exhibit b) 

Have witnessed Julie hugging the air many times only for Alex or Willie to appear. Same with hand holding. (see exhibit c for dads reaction) 

5. Magic

Some ghosts have powers and abilities. 

Willie* can control different types of technology. Appears to work best with cars. This we believe correlates with who a ghost dies. 

In our expedition to test his skills he skipped through 15 different radio stations of Tia’s car until he found one playing despacito. Test was a success. Tia does think her car is haunted now however.

6. ???

There was a dark room. 

All other ghosts interviewed had never heard of it before. 

All our ghosts agreed it was weird and creepy. 

We are choosing to pretend it didn’t happen. 

Working theory: a hole in time that they fell through. Must find a way to test.

7. Teleporting

part 1)

Ghosts can teleport wherever they want in the world. 

Only the most powerful can teleport a lifer with them (will keep attempting)

part b) 

Our ghosts can pinpoint Julie’s exact location wherever she may be in the world. 

Will be helpful if she is ever kidnapped, Julie however wishes they would stop using said power to find her in gym class.

“I already have find my friend activated” – Flynn had to say on the matter. 

part c) 

Julie can summon the boys to her if she concentrates hard enough. Came in handy when an evil magician tried to kidnap them.

Also possibly how they escaped the dark room, no way to prove or deny this as dad won’t let me eat a bad hotdog to become a ghost.

Working theory: magic of music and family 

See Exhibit d 

See Exhibit e  

#julie and the phantoms #julie molina #luke patterson #alex mercer #reggie peters #carlos molina #willie jatp #willie #ray molina #jatp #this is...this is really something that i made huh #why did i do this #i just. okay #you gotta read the power point as if carlos and reggie are presenting it btw #and reggie is wearing a sheet for the aesthetic

[lambourngb]

a skeleton of something more [2/6]

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

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

**** THEN **** 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Anything.” 

Alex blinked, nonplussed by the easy acceptance. 

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

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

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

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

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

“No, Forrest’s.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re being awfully generous.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

CONTINUED HERE

#Malex #roswell new mexico #malex fic #alex goes undercover #not forrest long friendly #getting back together #Season 3 speculation

[adam-memeleri]

i went through aislinns tag at 2 in the morning yesterday and didn’t see a single fic so fuck it i’ll do it myself i guess

-

Aislinn finds herself alone with Quinn after staying late in the office, and is soon whisked out on definitely not a date for the rest of the evening.

Tagging - @aislinnstanaka @lookingforsomethingcuzimbored @swimmingshoebakerydreamer @saratustra4 @alccaddsccup

if you do or do not wanna be tagged

Masterlists shameless self promotion lmao

T Rating (just fluff and aislinn being cute, so the usual lmao)

Aislinn x MC (Quinn Michaels, gender neutral)

~1,4k words (no editing, we die like men)

-

The law office is missing its characteristic bustle as Aislinn scrawls away at a page, a crease between her brows as she works. A sigh slips past her lips and she rolls her neck to release some tension, stifling a groan of exhaustion.

“Are you busy or is this all for show?” a voice calls from the open doorway, the first person to pass it in Aislinn’s not sure how long.

Her dark eyes flicker upwards, lips already curving in a brilliant smile before her gaze even lands on the person hanging from the doorframe. “Just finishing up some paperwork.”

“And by finishing, do you mean actually finishing, or are you going to be here for hours still?” the lawyer’s eyes crinkle with a grin as they step forward, stalking further into the office like an animal on the prowl.

Aislinn’s shoulders lift in a weak shrug, a bashful blush staining her cheeks. “Not hours, per say…”

“Aislinn!” Quinn chides with a laugh, collapsing lazily into the chair across from her desk.

“What?”

They shift in the chair, folding one leg over the other in an elegantly leisurely motion. “The paperwork can wait, it’ll be there in the morning.”

“I know," Aislinn starts, preparing herself with a deep breath, "but I’ll have more in the morning from new cases and updates on top of this, and this'll slow me down so the backlog just gets larger and larger until I'm way behind and everyone's frustrated, and I don't want that, so I should just finish it now.” She finally stops, sucking in a deep breath.

Quinn taps out a sharp rhythm on the arm of the chair, eyes roving over Aislinn in inspection with a bemused tilt to her lips. “Okay,” they answer abruptly.

“Okay?”

“Okay,” they repeat, smile growing playfully, “But I’m staying too, so every minute you lose sleep, is a minute away from me too.”

A frown dips Aislinn’s features as she scowls across the desk, “I don’t like that.”

Quinn winks, “That’s the point.”

Aislinn shakes her head at them, turning back to the papers and files strewn across the wood grain of her desk to hide her smile. “I’ll be quick,” she chuckles beneath her breath.

---

A half hour later, a file thuds on Aislinn’s desk as she grins victoriously, leaning back in her chair. “Done!” she announces.

“Great!” Quinn claps, jumping to their feet before Aislinn can even blink. “Now let’s go get something to eat.”

“I thought we were supposed to go home?”

Quinn halts behind the chair they were lounging in, arms folding over the back of it. “Do you want to go home?”

“What’s the alternative?”

“I take you out to dinner and we have a good time.”

Aislinn laughs lightly, “I’m starting to think you had an ulterior motive coming in here.”

“Me? Never,” they drawl huskily before spinning on their heel, striding confidently to the office door they always seem to appear in when Aislinn needs them most. They glance back, the corners of their mouth ticked upwards, “You coming?”

Aislinn darts to her feet, her desk chair tilting dangerously at the sudden movement, before she grabs her jacket off the back of it and hurries out the door, heels clicking in a quick beat as she catches up. Quinn’s still walking in eager steps when Aislinn falls into step beside them, but spares a wide smile before thumbing the button for the elevator.

Aislinn taps her foot for a beat before chancing a peek at Quinn. “What kind of dinner is this going to be?”

“Oh, just two friends staying out too late and eating food,” Quinn shrugs, fighting a bemused smile. “Are there some expectations I now need to meet?” they tease.

Her hair shifts as she shakes her head, stilling at the beep of the elevator. “No, I was just… curious.” So this is definitely not a date. Noted.

---

“So why here?” Aislinn’s dark eyes flicker around the restaurant she’s found herself in, warm lighting and deep colours filling the space. A few other patrons fill the seats, even in the late hour, conversation creating a soft murmur.

“Hmm?” Quinn glances up from their plate, pasta stabbed on their fork.

“You have all of New York at your disposal and you brought me here.”

They meet her smile without hesitation, before shrugging casually. “It’s cozy. And I didn’t think you’d like something flashy and uptight.”

“Do you know somewhere flashy and uptight?”

“Not quite…” they admit, “but I’m sure Gigi does.”

Aislinn can’t help but laugh at the immediate return of confidence, the crooked tilt to Quinn’s grin. “You’d owe Gigi a favour just for a dinner?”

“If it’s with you?” their smile turns coy, “In a heartbeat.”

Aislinn pauses, blinking blankly across the table before she clears her throat, looking away to stare at her plate, a furious blush on her cheeks. A silence fills the space between them, only broken by scraping silverware. “So how are you liking your apartment?” Aislinn finally musters, glancing upwards briefly.

“Oh, it’s amazing,” Quinn grins, carrying on without a care. “I owe you so bad.”

“Lucky for you, I’m a lot more forgiving than Gigi.”

“Also a lot cuter,” Quinn winks.

An amused chuckle thrums in Aislinn’s throat, “Careful not to say that around her.”

“I’ve got nothing to hide.”

Aislinn cocks her head, smiling softening but cheeks still pink, “How do you always do that? Turn things lighthearted, I mean.”

They shrug again, as easygoing as ever, “You just have to not care. Don’t put pressure on it to be fun or whatever, just try to find all the little enjoyable things and focus on them.”

Aislinn just watches them for a moment with a gentle smile, eyes bright and shining with the warmth of the restaurant and her own affections. A few stray strands of hair frame her face and the dazzling features carved within it.

“Oh now what?” Quinn laughs brightly at the look in dark eyes across from them.

“Nothing,” Aislinn shakes her head, still fighting a beaming grin, “I just like that. You make things seem easy.”

“It is easy, you’re just in your head. I’ll prove it one of these days, you’ll see.”

A soft laugh bubbles out of Aislinn, a melody contrasting with the din of chatter throughout the rest of the building. “I’m sure I will.”

---

Aislinn glances down the street, raising onto her toes to see above passing heads. The pavement’s damp beneath her feet, lights glinting in the puddles by the curb and Quinn’s wide smile. “Did I live up to your expectations?”

“There were none, remember?” Aislinn’s expression shifts into a delicate smile for what feels like the hundredth time tonight.

“Sure,” Quinn squints at her in a disbelieving glower. “Well, regardless, I hope you had a good time.”

“I did. I hope I was good enough company.”

“There’s no one else I’d have rather spent the night with.”

A flush warms the back of Aislinn’s neck and she averts her gaze, fingers toying with the bracelet draped around her wrist. She risks a look towards the person beside her, finding their eyes already trained on her and shining.

“Me neither,” Aislinn finally whispers, earning a smile so bright she thinks she might go blind.

“Good.” Quinn’s smile fades into something softer, eyes refusing to look away for a long moment, “Night.” It draws Aislinn in, hypnotises her beneath glowing lamp posts, and she doesn’t even mind. “Night,” Quinn repeats as they seem to blink out of a similar haze, grin widening once more as they step away, trailing backwards down the pavement.

Aislinn turns too, smiling faintly to herself as she stuffs her hands into her pockets. Stray coins clink against one another within, and she trails a fingertip over the edge of one just to give herself something to do, something other than thinking about that smile.

“Wait, Aislinn!” rings in her ears and she spins, a questioning furrow to her brow. Quinn staggers to a stop before her, that smile just as it was, “I forgot something.” They lean in, pressing a quick kiss to Aislinn’s cheek before darting back again. “There. Now, goodnight,” they tease before whirling around, rushing down the sidewalk and leaving Aislinn in their wake.

That kiss was definitely not the end to a definitely not a date, and Aislinn and Quinn definitely won’t be thinking about it for days. And they definitely won’t be going on another within the next week.

#writing was so weiiiiirdddd after so long #but its cool its happening again at least afhfkj #aislinn tanaka #aislinn x mc #laws of attraction #choices fanfic #choices loa

[onlyfortheplot]

I Don’t Know My Name?

➳ PART OF THE DADDY UNIVERSE

➳ Pairing:Habia Lev x Fem!Reader ft. Koji L/N

➳ Synopsis:

“I can give you an autograph if you want. Your kid said that you liked—“

You raised a hand to get him too stop.

“You’re Lev Haiba?“ you said softly, he gave a through nod, swiping of his sunglasses in proof.

“See?“

“See.“ you said. And you did see. Oh god.

➳ Warning: Slight language!! 

➳ Word Count: 2.4K

➳ A/N:

OMG!! I could barley focus on this because of the uwujima things (if you haven’t seen it its on my blog!). But, I am 100% gonna write a part 2/ extra for this??? Like it seems like a part 2 sort of fic??? Should I?? ANYWAY ENJOY <3

You shuffled the books on your desk, piling them on top of each other almost randomly. You had changed the order of these books five times, still bored as you gazed at the almost empty bookstore. Sure, it was still morning. And sure, maybe most people won’t plan to visit a bookshop at seven a.m, but you couldn’t help but wish that people would come. You had been sitting here, almost two hours, watching as a few people passed the windows, some stopping to wave a small ‘hi.’ Bu, you were glad that you could some extra cash, your sons’ birthday was coming up after all and you couldn’t expect his useless existence of a father to do much.

You had remembered, since you had been divorced to him, the excuses he had came up with to not celebrate his son’s birthday. On Koji’s second birthday he had made the excuse that he was too young to have a birthday party. You had looked at him angrily, fuming as you asked why he had celebrated his step-daughter’s first birthday. He shrugged, saying it was the way it was.

On Koji’s third birthday, you had asked your ex-husband to get him a present, a small figurine that Koji had begged you for. Then, on the day of his birthday, your ex had nonchalantly said he forgot, bu had bought him a gift card to his favorite store. You had grabbed the gift card, and throwing it on the ground. You swore as you kicked him out of your house. 

Koji’s fourth and fifth had gone swell. The cake was tasty, being made by your best friend and your mother. The gifts were even better!

But, Koji’s sixth birthday is when it had all gone down. You still cried at night as you remembered it. It wasn’t really your fault, or at least not fully. If anything it was your stupid ex’s fault. He had come to Koji’s party, slightly intoxicated. You could smell the dampening scent of alcohol. It was disgusting. You remembered, as he punched open the door and trying to grab Koji. You got angry, shoving him away from your son, pulling him behind you.

“Gimme my son.“he slurred, as he made grabby hands at him, “I want it.“

You gritted your teeth angrily as you slapped him, across his face. He looked at you shocked, thick tears streaming down his face. He then passed out on your living room floor.

That was the last time you and your son had seen him. Not that you tried to reach out after that. Even Koji had given up asking about his father. 

You watched, eyes thick with incoming tears and tiredness, at Koji, who lay asleep on the front couch of the bookstore. You sighed, rubbing your temples. You could only hope that his seventh birthday would go smoothly.

“Mommy?“ you whipped your head to Koji, who looked up at you with drooping eyes. You gave him a soft smile, waving him over.

“Come here, baby.“ He nodded, rubbing his eyes, as he moved from the couch to your lap. He shuffled on, wrapping his small hands on your neck. You rubbed his back as he cuddled into you.

“Are you sleepy, buddy.“ He gave a muffled response and a nod.

“Well, do you want to stay here or go read?”

He lifted his head up, looking at you.

“Books? Can I read comic books?” His eyes twinkled, even through the obvious drowsiness.

You nodded as he gave you a smile, making his way to move off your lap.

“Be careful okay?“ you murmured as you ruffled his hair.

“Okie!“ you watched as he shuffled off, behind some bookshelves. You heard the slight rummaging of books, and the shifting of papers. You listened as Koji let out a soft sigh.

You were glad he was mature—or more mature than other six soon-to-be seven year old. You reached under the stack of books for the magazine you had hidden. It wasn’t a bad magazine, but you felt slightly guilty as you flipped through it looking for a specific page.

“There it is.“ Your fingers brushed over the smooth page, as you gazed at the model.

Most models in the magazine were nice, good-looking, but this one made your stomach clench. There was just something different. Maybe it was the green, cat-like eyes that seemed to look through the paper, right at you. Or maybe it was perfectly trimmed hair, that framed his face nicely. Or maybe it was his long, lithe arms that seemed so elegant. You blushed as you looked at him. Whatever it was, it made your stomach flutter.

You flipped through the magazine resting your hand on your cheek.

“Lev Haiba” you read out-loud as you saw another picture, his name printed out right under him.

“Nice name,“ you muttered to yourself.

You continued to flip through, stopping periodically, to look over at the customers that began to file in. You gave a small wave as they grinned at you. Some came over to your desk, to which you leaned back slightly, cupping the magazine in an attempt to shield it from the customer's view. Some merely gave you a small greeting and went behind bookshelves.

“Good mornin’ L/N!“ You recognized , the smiling figure and smiled.

“Good morning,“ you replied, “How was your day?“

“Well, the day just started, L/N. It is just eight! Or did your boring job make you forget.“ she teased.

“Yukie,“ you whined as you closed the magazine, “it’s not my fault!“

“Sure,“ she smirked peering onto your desk, “Whatca got there?“

“Nothing,“ you said, stiffly, as you pushed the magazine towards you, “So what can I get—“

She didn’t let you continue, as she walked forward, swiping the magazine from under your nose.

She flipped through the pages, stopping where the pages seemed to be more creased.

“Oh?” she raised a brow, looking at the image of Lev, “Y/N you have a kid!” 

You scoffed, swiping the book back, and stuffing it in your bag under you.

“I am looking, respectfully.“ you replied to her amused glare.

“Sure.“ she rolled her eyes, as she looked around, “Anyway where’s the kid?“

“Koji?“ you asked,”Reading.“

“His birthday is coming up soon, right?“

“Yeah. A month and a half.“ you said, as you gave a small to the old man who had just walked in.

“Have you thought of a present?“ 

You bit your lips, scrunching your nose.

“I’m thinking.“ you muttered.

“Have you thought of getting him a new dad.“ You choked, gaping at Yukie. She had said it almost, nonchalantly, you had thought you heard her wrong.

“Yah? What about that model?“ she wiggled her brows, laughing at your emotionless face.

“He’s a model.“ you said before pointing to yourself, “And I’m a single mother with a degree in law, but works in a bookstore.“

“Well, he is a nice guy you know,“ you gaped at her again, jaw dropping at the statement.

“You—you know him?“ you screeched, receiving odd looks from your customers, “Yukie, why didn’t you tell—“

“I thought you were looking, respectfully.“ she said in a teasing tone. You huffed, crossing your arms.

“I was, but—“

“Crap!“ someone yelled as they ran through the door, slamming it open with their feet. You instinctively lept to your feet, at the cursing man. Your heart beat in your chest, as the man looked behind him, before walking into the store. 

Giant. That was the first thing you noticed. He had to bend under the door frame to make sure his baseball hat wasn’t knocked off. You gasped as he stretched slightly, his full height revealed. You felt small. So small. You weren’t short— or not too short, but beside this man. You were an ant compared to him.

The next thing you noticed, was his lean figure, draped with multiple layers, a hoodie being the top. His pants hung low, on his hips, the belt being useless. The sunglasses were pushed right up the bridge of his nose, hiding his eyes from you. You scrunched your nose, as you thought. Familiar.

“He told me I should have been careful, but it wasn’t my fault. This time. I think.“ he muttered to himself.

You leaned closer, as customers gave him an annoyed glance, but continued with their work.

“Can I do something for you. Sir.“ you added, to be respectful. He winced away, looking at you with eyebrows raised high.

“Wait, people actually come here?“ he asked, his voice low and gruff. You glared at him, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Yes people come to my store. What can I do to help you“

“What?“ he asked, pulling out a phone from his pocket, fumbling as he swore.

“Sir, if you could not swear, that would be much appreciated,“ you gritted your teeth. Just who did this man think he was.

You rolled your eyes, sitting back in your chair, as he walked behind a couple of bookshelves. You peered your eyes, suspicious.

“Is that normal?“ Yukie pointed at the door. You sighed.

“No?“ Sometimes it was, it really depended on the day. You just wish it wouldn’t be the day you brought your kid to the store.

“Anyway, about Koji’s birthday. Just think about getting a—“

“Cool!“ you flinched at the high voice, that you knew was your sons’.

“Isn’t that Koji’s voice?“ Yuki murmured.

“That’s so cool, mister!” 

You lept from your seat, stomping across the store.

“Thanks!“

“Are you really a...“

“Model? Yeah!“

You paused. A model in your bookstore? You slowly peeked from behind a shelf. You gritted your teeth as you saw the man from before, crouching down to talk to your son. He had taken of his hat, his silver hair tousled as he ran a hand through them. He grinned at your son, who looked at him with awe.

“My mom loves models!“

“Really? Who?”

“This one model named Lev! She looks at him all the time. She talks about him too. She—“

“Koji L/N!“ you hissed as you jumping from behind the shelf, scaring both the man and Koji.

“Mom!“ he shrieked, baching away from the stranger.

“Koji L/N, what in world are you doing.“ Heat crawled into your cheeks as you refused to look at the man.

“Mom I—“

“No excuses, young man.“ you hissed, “What have I told you about strangers!“

“But, he’s not a stranger! He’s a model!“ he squeaked under your intense gaze. You turned your head slightly, looking at the man.

“Sir, you could be a model, a doctor, or the goddamn president, but when I say—“

“I’m sorry ma’am!“ he gushed, bowing “I didn't mean to hurt anyone, Its just that the press keeps on bothering me.“

You looked at him. His silver hair falling over his head, as he continued to bow his head. You sighed, kneeling in front of him, and patting his head.

He looked up, looking at you. His glasses had slipped off, revealing his slanted green eyes. Well shit.

“I can give you an autograph if you want. Your kid said that you liked—“

You raised a hand to get him too stop. 

“You’re Lev Haiba?“ you said softly, he gave a through nod, swiping of his sunglasses in proof.

“See?“

“See.“ you said. And you did see. Oh god.

“I’m sorry!“ you sighed, as you looked at Koji, warily. “Koji, Auntie Yuki is up front.” He nodded, giving a small, apologetic smile, before he rushed off.

“Its too early to deal with this.“ you muttered, as you continued to kneel before the man.

“So Mr.Haiba?“ you asked, he shot his eyes to yours.

“Call me Lev!“ he grinned, giving you a big thumbs up.

“I—are you really Lev Haiba?” 

“Yeah!“ he looked at you, tilting his head in confusion, “I look like myself, right?“

You gave him a deadpan look.

“Okay, first of all—“

“What’s your name?“ he blurted out, blushing slightly.

“Pardon?“

“Name. What’s my—your — name.“ he stumbled over his words, as be rubbed the nape of his neck.

“Y/N L/N,“ you said.

“Y/N. A pretty girl for a pretty name?“ he sounded confused, even if it were his own words he spoke.

“What?“ you asked incredulously.

“You’re pretty?“ he said, more a question than a real statement.

You rubbed your temples, softly pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Let’s restart. Hi!” you looked up to him, hiding the wariness with a layer of warmth, “My name’s Y/N L/N, what’s yours?”

“Lev Habia!“ he said, holding a lithe hand out to you. It really was elegant. You reached out grasping it. You fluttered your lashes, as he looked into your eyes. The blush grew as you grasped tighter on his hand. He squeezed slightly, as his eyes immediately shot to your fingers. You giggled, as you removed your hand and wiggled your empty ring-finger towards him. He sighed, as if content. You smiled as you looked up at him. His eyes were so pretty. His lashes fluttered slightly, as he blinked at your face. At the awe in it.

He had lied when, he blamed their run in on the press. Or at least, he wasn’t telling the whole truth. Sure, there were a couple of crazy fan girls trying to follow him. But, he wanted to come here. Come to see you,at least. He remembered months ago, when you had screamed at a man in front of your bookstore, giving him a glare that could kill. He remembered the scoff you had given as you shrugged him off and slamming the door in his face. It was a weird reason to be attracted to someone, rather it would be something most people avoided. He remembered telling Yaku about the incident. He could feel the disappointment reeking from his senpai after he told him.

“But, senpai, she’s so pretty!“ he had whined to Yaku, who had called him a moron and promptly cut the call.

He looked at you, with your hard, peeking out from your poorly tied ponytail. His eyes trailed from your hair to your face, especially your eyes, that glowed with curiosity. He blushed.

“You have a cute kid!“ he blurted, taking in your surprised face.

“Would you—would you like to meet him?“ you asked shyly, looking at the ground.

Lev smiled, his eyes crinkling.

Yes. Yes he would.

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