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#I HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS ABOUT HIS MOM AND HIS SISTER
f1smutwriter · 1 day
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so excited to see that youre willing to write about so many drivers i feel like a lot of them do not get enough love. anywhooo maybe arthur x pierres younger sister, where everyone always thought they’d get together and pierre was always just like “no. not gonna happen” but it definitely happened anyway 😩 ly pookie definitely wont be my last time requesting 💁‍♀️
|𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲 (𝐚𝐥𝟏𝟐)
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Arthur Leclerc x little!Gasly reader
Summary: Little Leclerc and Little Gasly aren’t so little anymore. They end up showing each other their true feelings but how would their brothers react
Warning: nothing just me ugly crying while writing this
Notes: Stop girl thank you so much. I do feel like a lot of the drivers get unappreciated. I love your energy and yes please request more would love to hear your ideas ♡︎
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April 9, 2005
“Look at them both, they’re so cute” Pascale said to mine and Pierre’s mom as they see me and Arthur in the front yard riding bikes together when our older brothers are at karting practice with our dads.
“I feel like those two are gonna get together in the future” My mom said to Pascale while smiling on the front porch drinking tea together. “Arthur you can’t do that you have to go straight no zigzag” I told Arthur the rules again to our game we were playing. “petit lapin that wasn’t part of the rules” he told me while still going in zigzags. “Thur play fair, and y/n that wasn’t in the rules” Enzo said making sure we didn’t argue anymore making Arthur stop and me pouting.
“Look at her pout” Pascale said to my mom pointing at my pout on my face. “Watch he’s gonna feel bad” Pascale laughed softly and without a heart beat Arthur came to me and said sorry. “I’m sorry petit lapin I won’t zigzag anymore” He said to me while holding my hand making me laugh a little.
When I see my dad’s car in the drive way I run to it wanting to see my older brother and Charles. Once they got out the car they had their bags in their hands making me help them. “Soleil it’s too heavy for you” Pierre said to me before kissing my head making me pout because I wanted to help. I skip over to my dad and jump into his arms “Papa I won racing with Arthur” I said to my dad while Arthur is talking with my brother and Arthur “I let her win” he whispered to them loud enough for me to hear.
“Hey no you didn’t I won fair and square” I say pouting at him not liking that he said he let me win. “Okay, okay I’m sorry you won fair and square” He said telling my little five year old self before I skipped to my mom and Pascale. “She could barely reach the petals so Enzo gave her a push” he laughed before going to me and the mom’s. “Maman can I have some water” I asked my mom when she put me on her lap. “Go ask your brother mon amour” she told me softly before kissing my head softly. Instead of asking my brother I skip to Arthur. “Thur can you help me get water” I asked with my puppy dog eyes that got him every time. Without a second to waste he gets up and walks with me to the kitchen.
“Soleil why didn’t you ask me” Pierre called out from the porch stair where him and Charles were talking. “Because Thur does it better” I shouted back before going back to Arthur. “I hope you know she has a crush on my brother” Charles said chuckling to Pierre who was an upset. “No she doesn’t, she’s not allowed to have crushes anytime soon” Pierre said a bit angrily not liking the idea of his little sister having a crush.
“Sorry buddy but she does” Our mom said while chuckling softly while sipping a bit of her tea. All of a sudden they hear my giggles from the kitchen, they all look inside and see me on Arthur’s back as he spins me around a bit. “Told ya” Charles chuckled before making Pierre roll his eyes staring at his little sister and his best friends little brother.
October 14, 2010
“Thur where are you” I call out from outside his room. When he didn’t answer I went to Charles room. “Cha have you seen Thur I have his present but he’s not opening his door” I asked holding his birthday present in my hand. “Yeah he told me to tell you to go in the tree house” Charles said while doing his hair. “Thank you cha” I giggled before running to the tree house hearing Arthur.
“Thur” I sang from the bottom of the tree house before giggling when I see him stick his head out. “petit lapin what are you doing here” he asked me looking confused on why I was at the house so early. “Got you a present that I want you to open in private” I said softly before climbing the ladder to the tree house. He just smile at me helping me up the last step before looking at the present in my hand. “You didn’t have to petit lapin I don’t expect anything” he whispered softly to me holding my hand still.
“Here open” I squealed excitedly giving him the present. He just smiled at my reaction before opening it and seeing a red bracelet. “I know your favorite color is red because of Ferrari so I made you a red bracelet, so that one day when you become a Ferrari driver you have a perfect bracelet” I explain before looking at him. “Do you like it” I asked him before feeling him pull me into a hug. “I love it Mon petit lapin” he whispered softly into my ear making me smile before hugging him back.
“Love you Thur” I whispered to him softly. “I love you too Mon petit lapin” he whispered back to me before we get called down by Charles and Pierre. We get down and Pierre sees the red bracelet on Arthur’s wrist. “She spent all day and night making that for you” he whispered to Arthur before looking at his little sister who was laughing with Charles about something stupid Charles had said. “Really” Arthur mumbled not believing that his petit lapin did that for him. On that very day he realized he was gonna be friends with her forever.
February 14, 2016
“No Thur it’s embarrassing everyone has a valentine but me” I mumbled against my pillow as he just chuckled rubbing my back. “Come on petit lapin, it’s not that bad” he laughed making me groan loudly in my pillow. “It is bad because even you have a date” I grumbled looking at him holding the teddy bear that he got me at the fair. “Your fifteen do you really need a valentine” he says to me softy rubbing my leg to make me feel better.
“You act like you’re so much older then me” I say smiled before looking at him with a bigger smile. “Go have fun your girl is probably waiting for you” I encouraged him to go have fun while holding my bear. “You sure because I don’t have to go” he asked me groan. “Yes go don’t be miserable here with me go have fun on your date Thur” I reassured him before I see him get up and walk out the door to go get ready for his date.
I sigh going into the kitchen and getting by all the good snacks we had. My mom just comes and sees me confused “what’s wrong Mon amour” she asked me seeing me get the good snacks. “No Valentine equals a very sad day maman” I said with a sad smile trying to lighten up the mood. “It’s okay Mon amour there will be many men lined up for you soon” she reassured me kissing my head before going back upstairs.
A few hours I hear the doorbell, then I hear my mom call me down stairs. “Y/n it’s for you amour” she called for me from the door. I groaned getting with my big pajama pants and Pierre’s hoodie that i never gave back going down stairs. “Who is it” I asked from the stairs before going to the door seeing Arthur with a big box of chocolate chips cookies along with white and pink tulips. “Wow look at you she’s gonna love it” I said softly with a smile before fixing his glasses that I loved on him. “Do you like it” he asked me with a smile as I fix his glasses. “Of course I do and she will too” I replied before looking at the beautiful flowers again.
“Well then my girl here are your favorite flowers and since you hate chocolate and can’t be normal whatsoever here is your cookies with chocolate that make no sense” he says to me giving me the flowers and cookies. “Thur what are you doing” I asked him holding the flowers and cookies. “Y/n Gasly, my petit lapin will you do me such an honor of being my Valentine” he questioned making me look up at him with a huge smile on your face. “Are you being serious right now” I asked almost about to cry from the sweet gesture.
“Actually now that I think about it I asked the wrong Gasly” he grinned at me making my eyes roll automatically. “Your stupid Leclerc” I said before hugging him wrapping my arms around his neck. “Not as stupid as you Gasly” he whispered to me wrapping his arms around my waist. My mom and dad just looking at us with awe on their faces when Arthur did all that for me. “I got more stuff in the car like food from your favorite restaurant, your favorite drink and everything else Mon petit lapin” he said softly kissing my head making me look up at him with the biggest smile on my face.
That was the day I realized I was in love with Arthur Leclerc.
November 18, 2023
Me and Arthur are walking down the strip of Las Vegas for the very first time. “This is Las Vegas, don’t really get the hype” Arthur laughed while walking around and looking at all the buildings. “Well Las Vegas is about gambling and drinking so” I giggled swinging our hands back and forth. “Yeah my pockets are done for the day” he told me before we walk in the lobby of our hotel. “Wanna go bother Pierre and Charles” I asked him with a slight smile on my face making him chuckle. “Let’s go” he says dragging me to the poker game they were playing with the other f1 drivers
“Hey tripod” I say to my brother before kissing his cheek and placing my head on his shoulder. “Soleil go bother someone else like max he’s winning right now” he whispered to me so no one else heard him. “No he scares me” I whispered back making him laugh and me just giggle. “Just go please and I’ll buy you sushi tomorrow” he offered making me going over to max placing my chin on his shoulder. “Max verstappen what are you doing on this fine evening” I say before he looks at me making me smile big and bright.
“Trying to ignore a certain Gasly” he says back with the same smile making me laugh. “Okay, okay I’m sorry please forgive me” I said before going to Arthur and sitting next to him at the booth where the rest of the drivers were. “I just realized is little Leclerc and Little Gasly dating” Max Fewtrell asked Lando who was drinking his drink. “Yeah they’ve been dating for like a while now, I think their childhood sweetheart.
“Wanna go back up and order room service” Arthur asked me while rubbing my thigh softly. “Always” I whispered before getting up off him and going to the elevators. “I still can’t believe you still have this” I say holding his hand and pointing at the red bracelet I made on his twelfth birthday. “A very special girl made it for me” he whispered softly to me before we walk to the room. “Yeah how special is she” I asked softly still holding his hand.
“Well she’s really special, the day she made me this was the day I fell in love with her” he says to me softly making me stop in my tracks. “W-what” I stuttered softly not believing the words that came out of his mouth. “I said the day she made me this was the day I fell in love with her, even though it was my twelfth birthday and she was 10 I fell hard” he whispered softly to me making me tear up.
“Please tell me you’re not joking, because if you are imma die Leclerc” I ranted fast making him look at me with his smile. “Never Mon petit lapin” he said before holding my face and kissing me. I kiss him back the guy I’ve loved for the past eleven years. The boy I had a crush on at five years old. I was kissing him I was finally kissing him.
He pulled away putting his forehead on mine. “I love you so much Mon petit lapin” he says while he tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear. “I love you so much more Thur” I say back tearing up happy tears now that I finally had the love of my life in my arms. He kissed me the man that I’ve been in love with for eleven years counting finally kissed me.
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March 6 2024
“Gosh this feels so surreal” Charles said fixing Pierre’s and his bow ties in the back room. “I know I mean I always knew they were gonna end up together but wow it doesn’t feel real” Pierre said softly tearing up realizing his little sister his Soleil was gonna get married. He hugs Charles tearing up in his shoulder as Charles tears up with him.
“Oh come on I can’t have my best men cry on me” Arthur says before hugging them both softly laughing at the two. “Bunch of cry babies” he teased them before Pierre pulls away. “Hey my baby sister is gonna be a Leclerc let me have my moment” Pierre told him before wiping away his tears and looking at Arthur. My dad calls for Arthur telling him it’s time. “Promise me you’ll take care of her” Pierre said looking at him with a smile.
“I promise” Arthur said back before hugging him quickly making his way down to the doors where everyone is. They open the door for him and he walks down the aisle first seeing everyone he loves is there. His mom, my mom, all our friends and family. He makes it down to where the priest is taking his spot before all the maid of honors and best men walked down with each other. After then were the flower girls spreading white and pink tulip petals. After them I come in with my arm entangled with my dad’s as he tears up and tells me how much he loves me. He walks me down to my spot in front of Arthur where he mouths to me with tears in his eyes how beautiful I was.
The priest starts the reception not hearing anything but just staring at Arthur with so much love in my eyes showing him I couldn’t wait to be his forever. “Do you y/n, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, to live together in matrimony, to love him, comfort him, honor and keep him, in sickness and in health, in sorrow and in joy, to have and to hold, from this day forward, as long as you both shall live” the priest says to me making me squeeze his hands a bit making sure he knows I will first. “I do” I say softly while looking into Arthur’s eyes.
“And Do you Arthur, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, to live together in matrimony, to love her, comfort her, honor and keep her, in sickness and in health, in sorrow and in joy, to have and to hold, from this day forward, as long as you both shall live” the priest asked Arthur making him squeeze my hand like I did to him. “I do” he said back to me making a smile pop up on my face along with tears. I turn around and grab the wedding band from Kika and he turns around to grab it from Pierre. I slide it on his ring finger as he slides his on mine.
“I know pronounce you husband and wife, Arthur you may now kiss your bride” he said making Arthur grab me and kiss me softly. Feeling the feeling I’ve had in my body for eleven years slowly come back. I kissed him back before pulling away as everyone is clapping for us. I grab his hand and we both walk down the aisle hand in hand going to the car to go to our honeymoon. I kiss him one last time before kissing and hugging everyone good bye before I get in the car where Arthur is waiting for me. “So Mrs. Leclerc Gasly where would you like to go first” Arthur asked me as he puts the car in drive.
“Anywhere you are Mr. Leclerc Gasly” I said before rolling down our windows and driving off wherever we will go. Only we know that and that’s only for us to know.
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Notes: I’m not crying you are. I know you asked me something so little but I just had to make it um how do you say it. ✨extra✨ which made the story a masterpiece. I did this scene twice because I forgot to save it and I left and everything went with me sooo. I really hope you like it and more story’s coming soon.
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peachhcs · 2 days
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i was wondering how sam starts to fall and relize that will is worth t her risk? because i know they went on the one date
the 3 times samy's confused about her feelings and the 1 time she isn't
hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)
samy's afraid to date her best friend in fear of ruining everything, so she spends the entire summer trying to understand her feelings until it finally all clicks.
4k words
wow! my longest fic ever for this series. i loved, loved loved writing this and i'm planning on doing a similar type of style to this soon so stayed tune for that! as always, keep sending in requests, they're so fun to write :)
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ONE
sitting at the kitchen island while ellen helped curl samy's hair, the girl's stomach churned into knots for some reason. she was so so excited for senior prom, but her anxiety wouldn't shake. something was tipping the youngest hughes off her balance, but she just couldn't put her finger on it. luke and her mom must've been taking notice of her unusual silence because the girl hadn't stopped talking about prom all week.
"your hair's gonna look so beautiful with these curls," ellen gushed, breaking the silence in the kitchen.
"you think so?" samy wondered quietly, hands fidgeting in her lap.
"oh for sure. i just know you and will are gonna look so amazing," the older woman continued while samy's stomach twisted into knots again hearing her best friend's name.
luke, who stood a few feet away, picked up on his sister's quietness again. he studied her face, gears turning in his brain, the pieces in his head slowly falling together that answered her sudden shyness.
"i think it's so nice you and your friends are bringing some of the guys. i really think they'll have fun even if they don't say it," ellen continued.
samy briefly nodded, her mind stuck on will. "yeah, it will be fun," her eyes met luke's across the way and because they were siblings, he instantly read her gaze.
samy's friends were the ones who brought up the idea about her bringing will to prom. the brunette didn't have a lot of options considering she didn't like many of the other guys at her school. marley suggested "the hot hockey friend" (her words) and everyone else immediately agreed.
sure, they teased samy about will before and always went on about how hot him and his friends were, but the girl never looked past that. she never gave it a second thought until now.
the days leading up to prom have left serious anxious butterflies in samy's stomach for reasons she didn't quite understand completely. her and will texted back and forth like they usually did, but something felt different. there was something different that the brunette couldn't put her finger on it and the more she thought about it, the more she thought about her friend's teasing remarks and the boys' teasing remarks anytime they all hung out.
"okay, i'm gonna let these set for a minute before we start doing anything else," ellen decided as she shut the curling iron off and disappeared out of the room.
the hughes sibling code was that you never brought up anything around the parents you wanted to discuss, so luke shifted himself closer to his sister once their mom was out of earshot. samy met his wondering gaze.
"what's up?" luke asked in a near whisper.
"what?" for a moment samy played dumb. she feared her little bubble of anxiety was coming off as too noticeable.
"you look nervous. like way more nervous than before," the middle hughes casually pointed out. his sister's face flushed.
"i'm not."
"really?" luke didn't believe her. not even for a second. he grew up with her, so he knew every single one of her quirks making it impossible to hide them.
"yeah?" she toyed with her fingers and avoided eye contact—a dead giveaway for the older boy.
"samantha," luke using her full name meant he was being seriousness and wanted her to be serious too.
"i'm just like kind of freaking out and i don't know why," the youngest hughes finally admitted.
the boy raised his eyebrow, "what do you mean by freaking out?"
"like..there's these butterflies in my stomach and my heart won't stop racing," samy tried her best explaining.
"are you nervous for prom?" luke wondered.
"i-i don't know..maybe? i just..it feels weird," words weren't coming easy to the girl. she looked away, feeling embarrassed that she was even feeling this way.
the middle hughes hesitated for a second, thinking back to a few minutes ago when he noticed how his sister grew quiet at the mention of will's name. "does it have anything to do with will?"
the girl's face blushed around the edges, "that's the problem. i think so, but i-i don't really know."
"i mean you're just going as friends. it doesn't mean anything," luke shrugged until he saw his sister's gaze again and something in his expression shifted. "or does it?"
"i don't know," samy nearly whispered.
her brother finally understood what she was trying to say.
"do you want it to mean something?" luke asked.
"i-i wanna say yes..my heart wants me to, but..my head is confusing me. i don't know why i feel like this about will," she looked at luke as if he had all the answers for her.
"it sounds like you may have..feelings for him? or you're starting to?" his words made the girl's stomach drop. feelings?
"feelings?" her thoughts slipped out of her mouth.
"maybe?"
that didn't make samy feel any better than before. luke quickly cut in when he saw her expression drop, "that's not a bad thing. i had a small inkling."
"inkling? will's my best friend..he's like another brother to me. i-i can't have feelings for him," the girl looked over at luke who only shrugged.
"i dunno, just something to think about. you seemed anxious when mom mentioned him and you aren't usually."
"something about this just feels really different and i..i can't understand why. or maybe i do and i don't wanna believe it," samy mumbled the last part.
"is it a bad thing to like him or something?" luke crossed his arms as he drew back off the counter.
"i mean..no. it's not. i just..he's my best friend. that's all i've ever seen him as. i don't know why things suddenly feel so different," samy admitted.
"i get it. just..see how the night goes? see what happens? for all he knows, it's just a friends thing," the middle hughes tried reassuring her. all samy could do was nod and take some deep breaths to ease the racing thoughts.
TWO
the excitement finally started dying down around two in the morning. people drifted back towards their rooms as sleep filled their eyes knowing their hangovers would be pretty killer in the morning. the youngest hughes lingered in the conference room just taking in the scene of what was once a packed room while everyone congratulated the boys on their drafts.
her parents retired hours ago and the older hughes brothers were somewhere in the building either asleep or continuing the party in a smaller room. it was just her in there staring blankly at one of the walls lost in thought until one of the doors cracked open.
"found her," gabe's voice broke the silence. samy's gaze slid to his as he slowly shuffled closer towards her. ryan wasn't far behind.
"you okay?" the darker-haired boy wondered when he got closer. "we've been looking for you."
"oh, yeah. i'm good," samy nodded as gabe plopped onto the couch with ryan on her other side.
"smitty passed out upstairs in the room. no way he was waking up," ryan laughed briefly. samy pictured the blonde in her head and it brought a soft smile to her lips.
"did he tell you?" she asked the two boys. both of them raised their eyebrow like they didn't know what she was talking about.
"tell us what?" ryan wondered, both of their gazes shifting over to the girl between them.
a small flush spread across her cheeks. she for sure thought will would tell them as soon as he got the chance considering how much they were always teasing him for it.
"he..he uh..we kissed," samy mumbled quietly.
gabe and ryan's smiles grew into the widest and biggest the brunette's ever seen them besides when they scored goals during a game. 
"fucking finally! when did that happen??" gabe exclaimed.
"we finally caught each other in the crowd. we went into the hallway and i guess everything just..spilled out," samy explained what the two missed.
"so what? you're boyfriend girlfriend now?" ryan nudged her arm, a large smirk on his lips knowing the guys owed him now.
"uh..no.."
"no?" ryan and gabe exchanged a curious and confused glance. the brunette's gaze fell away from them as she toyed with her fingers.
"we're just gonna like go on dates and see how it goes and if it goes to shit then that's okay and nothing is ruined between us," she shrugged some.
"i don't get it," gabe said.
"it's like a grace period. we go on dates just to see how we'd be in a relationship and if we aren't good, then it's like nothing happened," she saw their glances and for some reason neither of them made her feel good.
"but you guys like each other..so wouldn't that like..not make sense if you don't decide to be official but you still like each other?" ryan raised his eyebrow.
"maybe..but i dunno. just scared," samy's voice softened out which immediately made gabe and ryan's expressions soften too.
"scared? of what? will? he's your best friend," ryan almost laughed before knowing that wouldn't be the right move.
"that's the problem. he's my best friend."
"i'm lost again," gabe's confusion earned a playful eye roll from the youngest hughes.
"i've known will since we were babies. all i've ever known him is a best friend. a brother. these feelings are still new to me and..i'm still scared. i'm scared that it won't work between us and we ruin everything we've ever had," samy's confession had her own heart clenching in tight knots. that familiar feeling of anxiety returned anytime she thought about her feelings for will.
"hey, i get it. when julianne and i started dating i was scared too. she was a really good friend of mine and i didn't wanna ruin that. i mean..we know will, you probably know him better than us, but he's not like that. he'd do anything for you samy," ryan touched her arm, giving it a gentle squeeze while gabe nodded in agreement. a soft smile replaced the small frown on her lips.
she knew when ryan called her samy and not hughesy, he was being genuine.
"i mean, you should've seen him back in october and before he even realized he liked you like that. he'd never do anything to hurt you or put himself in a position to lose you," gabe added.
"i know it's hard to shake the jerky hockey guy persona, but trust me when i say will is far from that. you know that. if you called him needing something, he'd drop everything for you. i know he really, really wants this to work out between you guys," ryan grinned wider.
luckily, the boys' words eased some of the anxiety building in samy's stomach. she hooked her arm around ryan's, giving it a loving squeeze.
"when did you guys become so good at giving advice? i swear you were teasing me two days ago," her words made the three of them laugh.
"i guess we're growing up, huh? we're not kids anymore," gabe's eyes drifted across samy and ryan's glances.
"i'm really proud of you two. i'm gonna miss you being in michigan with me this fall," she ruffled up both of their hairs making them squirm away.
"i can't believe it's already over. went too fast," ryan hummed, leaning back into the couch.
"you can say that again. i can't believe boston's in two months," a sad smile appeared on gabe's lips.
the idea of her best friends being miles away from her made samy's stomach twist into more knots. she lived for moments like these where the late hours made them vulnerable and anything tumbled out of their lips into the open air. these moments wouldn't happen anymore when the boys headed to botson. everything was changing soon and samy wasn't sure how big of a fan she was of all of it—especially trying to navigate her feelings for someone she cared deeply about.
THREE.
samy's heart hammered against her chest with each step she took onto her front porch. one step matched the thud of her heart and the blush rising to the tips of her ears. will's heavier footsteps weren't far behind, insisting that he walked her to the door to make sure she made it in safely.
all of these little gestures were so new to them. samy was so used to the blonde flying out the door passed her after her brothers in an attempt keep up with them. sometimes he'd even knock into her accompanied with a weak apology as he passed through. having him walk her to the house was entirely new territory in their relationship.
the brunette slowly spun on her heel, instantly finding will's gaze already on her. a soft smile sat on his lips as his eyes darted between her own. his shoulder fell against the one of the support beams, hands slipping into his pockets trying to act casual despite the pounding in his ears.
"i had a lot of fun. thank you, again," samy broke the silence first.
"yeah, me too. it was really fun," will agreed.
everything about them standing inches away from the front door where her parents and brothers were on the other side made samy feel like she was in high school again after a first date. the giddy smiles; the racing heartbeats; the awkward waiting and deciding if a kiss goodbye was appropriate while wondering if the older boys were watching them from an unknown location. 
"next time you should show me around plymouth," the girl teased slightly earning a blush across will's cheeks.
"you haven't seen all of it already?"
the girl smiled, but shook her head, "no, not really. i'd love to get your take on it."
"noted. i'll have to come up with an itinerary for us then."
the two shared a loving smile. samy noticed the way will's gaze briefly flicked down to her lips and the action made her heart flutter.
she decided to help him out by slowly inching closer, the small gap between them quickly closing. will caught on fairly fast. his hand slid onto her cheek, directing her chin upwards to meet his soft lips while samy hoped he couldn't feel her rapid heartbeat beneath his palm. 
the blonde used his other hand to wrap around her hip, tugging her impossibly closer while samy's danced through his hair and clutched his shirt. the kiss had both of their heads spinning until they finally pulled apart.
"see you tomorrow at the game?" will whispered with kiss-swollen lips.
the smile he loved spread across samy's own kiss-swollen lips as she nodded, "i'd never miss it."
he reluctantly let her go, watching as the brunette disappeared back into her house. the smile never disappeared from will's face the entire drive back to plymouth.
inside, samy leaned against the door just taking in the entire date. her eyes sparkled, replaying the way will's lips felt against her own—how passionate and sweet he was.
her high continued as she shuffled into the living room where all of her brothers were still awake watching the tv. they quickly met her gaze and the lovestruck expression dancing across her features.
"someone's smiley,"  jack commented in amusement, turning the volume down a few notches.
"maybe it's too early to say this, but i really think it's gonna work out between us. at least, i really hope it does."
the three brothers exchanged a brief glance. they had never heard their little sister talk that way about someone before—not after a first date. all three of their chests warmed seeing their baby sister look so happy despite them never admitting it. 
"that good, huh?" jack smirked some. samy nodded, joining them on the couch for a few moments before going upstairs.
"he's so perfect. he did everything right and..i just.." the youngest hughes trailed off for a moment while her brothers watched her expression slightly fade.
"i sense a but coming," quinn commented. samy met their gazes briefly before looking away.
"not a bad but..i just..i've never felt this way about someone before. my chest..it feels so..so full. it scares me," the girl didn't know how to explain what she was feeling nor was she sure if her brothers would even understand.
samy's words brought luke back to the conversation they shared a few months ago as the youngest sibling got ready for prom. he remembered how nervous she was—how unsure she seemed of it all. 
"remember prom?" luke wondered, meeting his sister's wandering gaze. 
"what about it?" 
"remember how scared you were then too but because you were unsure about the feelings you had for will because of how new they were?" the siblings didn't know where luke was taking the conversation, but they waited for him to go on. 
"now it seems like you're scared because of how you feel. you're not unsure anymore. you know how you feel for will, but it's scaring you," samy glanced at jack and quinn, getting lost in what luke was trying to say. 
"you're losing me," she said. 
"i think being scared of how much you like someone because you've never felt such strong emotions before is all the more reason to fall for them. to go all in," the curly-haired boy shrugged. 
in luke's weird, roundabout explanation, it somehow made sense to samy. she smiled briefly, letting her brother's words really sink in. 
"plus, we've seen the way he is around you. i don't think someone would act the way he does if he didn't really wanna be with you," quinn mentioned. 
samy decided to sleep on her brother's advice, hoping something would give her the sign that going all in with will wouldn't be a choice she regretted. 
THE 1 TIME
goodbyes were never easy. the cooler breeze of august mornings meant the end of summer. june bled into july. july bled into august. august marked the start of a new chapter, but the end of a really good one. the boys' usntdp years were over and all of them were once again packing up their lives to move out to boston to start something new and a bit unknown. samy sat in her childhood bedroom picking out the best memories to bring to college with her. 
even though she'd only be minutes away, heading to college was something the girl thought was still months away. sitting on the floor stuffing clothes and knickknacks into boxes brought a small line of tears into her eyes as august continued slipping away. 
on one of her freer days where she wasn't busy packing her own life away, samy drove up to plymouth to help the boys. it was also an excuse to see them more before they all left. 
she sat in will's room watching him sort his things into boxes attempting to hold herself together for the sake of both of them. if one them cried, then both of them would. her fingers clasped around some picture frames waiting to be wrapped. a smile spread across her lips when she saw what picture was inside. 
"i've never seen this picture before," the girl commented, casting her gaze towards her boyfriend. will's eyes flicked up, crinkling around the edges when he saw what photo. 
"i think it's from like a few years ago. you were at the game and mom wanted a picture," the blonde smiled briefly. 
the two looked awfully young. maybe fourteen or fifteen? will was still dressed in his hockey gear, helmet and stick in one hand with the other wrapped around samy's waist. he must've hit his growth spurt that year because he stood a good few inches above the brunette and samy knew she was always taller than him until he started growing more. the camera definitely captured the joy because of how wide each of their smiles were. 
"it's really cute. are you gonna put it up in your dorm?" samy teased a little. 
"yeah, probably. it's one of my favorites of us," will's response caught her off guard for some reason. 
her boyfriend had his back to her, so he didn't see the longing gaze. when her eyes finally left him and returned the the pictures again, she began realizing just how many were of her and him. the past two years samy hardly noticed what all of his framed pictures were. she just figured they were of family or him and his boys, not realizing over half of them included her smiling face. 
"you're taking all of these with you?" samy wondered a bit softly, referring to the picture frames still. 
will finally met her gaze again, not noticing the emotions coursing through her. "yeah, that's the plan. i don't know where i'll put all of them, but maybe i'll take them out of the frame and put them on the photo wall instead if they don't all fit somewhere," the blonde explained with a brief grin. 
the boy finally noticed samy's sudden quietness and her soft expression. he approached her, pushing some of her hair behind her ear, "you okay?" 
"oh, yeah, yeah. sorry. getting sentimental looking at all of these photos," the girl mumbled out a small lie. she didn't quite know how to put what she was currently feeling into words or how she felt so loved that will wanted to display her everywhere in whatever room he was in. 
"i know. mom keeps showing me all of these baby photos and finding things as we pack up," he rubbed the girl's arm before leaning in to place a gentle kiss to the side of her head. 
"i can't believe summer's already over," samy sunk onto the bed for a moment, eyes on the ground because if she looked at will she'd definitely start crying. 
"it went by way too fast. college came way too fast," the boy chuckled, finding a spot beside her. 
"boston's so lucky to have you, will. you're gonna do so great there," even though being over 600 miles away hurt, the girl knew how much will loved boston—dreaming of going there like everyone else in his family. 
"wish you were coming too," he took ahold of her hand, giving it a lot of kisses which made samy blush a deep crimson. 
"i know, but michigan's always called my name," the girl chuckled while thinking of quinn and luke. ever since she visited for the first time to watch quinn play, 12-year-old samy knew the university of michigan was where she would be one day. 
six years later, the girl was getting ready to move in and start her collegiate soccer career. 
"you know, gabe said he's not excited to live with me knowing how much i'm gonna call you everyday," will joked, trying to lighten the mood. 
in that moment, something in samy's head clicked. she finally looked over at her boyfriend and for the first time, she finally saw for herself that look everyone has told her he's looked at her with since they were kids. his blue eyes were nothing but orbs of a bright sparkle, entirely filled with nothing but love and adoration for the girl sitting beside him. 
"i'm gonna miss you a lot, hughesy. i wish i sucked up my pride and ego and told you how i felt a lot sooner," will admitted. 
his words exploded something inside of samy's chest. it was that feeling she's been scared of all summer, except this time, she wasn't scared anymore. she remembered luke's words about going all in when you felt something as strong as she felt. 
"me too. i wish i caught on sooner," the brunette chuckled, easing her forehead to rest against his. 
"i'm gonna call you every single day, watch every single one of your games, think about you all the time—" will's words quickly died in his throat when samy placed her lips on his. 
for the first time since the two admitted their feelings for one another, samy knew exactly how she felt about her best friend: in love. 
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zemnarihah · 5 months
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hm. my dad is now aware that i have slept over at eriks when i visit him.
#dont love that.#he brought it up bc i have an aunt and uncle in his city and i think he was going to offer to like see if i could stay with them at some#point to visit him#he was like have you thought of visiting erik in (city)? and i was like. yeah#and he was like. have you? and i was like. yeah. and he was like how many times? and i said twice and he was like oh. where did you stay?#and i said. eriks place. and he was like. oh. well you know you have an aunt and uncle there that would let you stay right? and i was like.#yeah i know. and it was in front of my mom and sister and brother in law and HIS sister and everyone was so quiet because they know how my#dad is#and i was like in the process of leaving so i just like said bye to everybody real quick and left so im still like. agh. scawed!#idk why even its not like theres anything he can do to me its just like. god i really want to have peace with him i do not want to ever hav#another lecture from him or get yelled at by him again idk im still scared of that. and he hasnt even met erik yet and probably has a#terrible impression of him now just based off of that even though i am always telling them great stuff about him i dont want HIM to deal#with that especially because i do not think that he would take as much bullshit which he shouldnt have to but god i just have this vision o#my dad like. pulling erik aside for a talk or something if they ever meet and trying to scare him and them getting into an argument bc erik#would stand up for himself#idk who knows if that will happen im literally making up scenarios in my head to scare myself but christ. \#the thing is also at this point in my life i just like. i have to keep moving forward in like. the whole living my life without constantly#thinking about the church's and my dad and the rest of my family's expectations. I have to. I almost lied to him but i didnt and thats#really big progress but im still so scared. but whatever. do it scared. agh!
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spaceshipkat · 6 months
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.
#have learned my little sister believes the moon landing was faked and cites a video on nasa’s website saying ‘they’ve lost the technology#to reach the moon’ or something. maybe the tech they used to reach the moon the first time? ok#idk*#anyway#also learned she knows a flat earther who cites the Bible as his source#bc the Bible says the moon is flat (im v rusty on my Bible bc i haven’t read it in full since i went through confirmation so maybe it does#and if it does feel free to point it out to me)#but anyway have they not ever thought about the fact the Bible was written before a round earth was discovered?#course their argument is that the Bible is the word of god but like#siiiiiigh#i don’t have patience for conspiracy theorists#oh another argument they used re the flat earth theory is a Malaysian flight going to France instead of India when a woman went into labor#and my mom and i instantly started pointing out how there’s SO many factors to take into account as to why they landed in one place over#another and it doesn’t mean bc on a flat earth France is closer to Malaysia#but the way conspiracy theorists approach conspiracies is always ‘i just think it’s fun to learn about!’#and then those conspiracy theories (which are always created by people who know how to manipulate people into believing lies)#end up convincing them bc of those good arguments built on complete nonsense#so the conspiracy doubter or conspiracy ‘just curious’ becomes a conspiracy theorist#it’s baffling how the most logical people can believe this bullshit#the Bible says the earth is flat* not the moon
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willowser · 1 year
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the way u write about rei and touya is just :( so heartbreaking and tender and GOD it just. buries myself into pillow. it makes me so soft
wow, thank you !! 🥺💕 i just have so many thoughts about them like sjfhwjwbq all my own perceptions on their relationship and what-not. i think that's his mama at the end of the day 🥺 and he'll always be vulnerable to her ?? which is why he's never sought her out, bc he knows he'd fall right away. sometimes i think about all his motives and stuff to go after endeavor — and he has plenty LOL don't get me wrong — but i imagine him like a little boy still, trying to protect his mom 🥺 and now he's a grown man with the ability and he'll never not see her like that ?? and another thing is like, the whole quirk marriage and rei's purpose to produce these kids for this powerful man; and touya was her first little bundle 🥺 his first little love 🥺 amfbeiehakqn i'm actually about to cry let me SHUT UP LOL
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bookwyrminspiration · 2 years
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YOUR SIBLINGS POST HAS 15K NOTES?? back when I reblogged it it was only at like 30 notes you've become mildly famous
Currently at 14.8k and counting, though my notifs finally seem to have calmed down. Not entirely, but it's a lot more manageable. I can see people interacting with my other posts now!
Also damn, mildly famous! It is kinda hard to comprehend that my post I made because I was frustrated over my relationship with my little sister is now on over 5000 other blogs. Like. That is a lot of places. Lot of tears, too. Sorry to everyone I made cry. And to everyone crying into their noodles specifically.
Congratulations for being one of the first to interact with it! You were there at it's very beginning and now can see what it has become. But yeah this was entirely unexpected and out of nowhere so I'm not sure what to do with this. Nevertheless!
giving you a sticker for being there since the beginning in my mind rn <3
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januaryembrs · 2 months
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TROUBLE ALMOST ALL MY LIFE | Spencer Reid x Prentiss!Reader
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Description: The ONE time the BAU needs you + the FOUR times you need them.
word count: 24k (what on earth was I thinking)
trigger warnings: mentions of spencers addictions + use + side affects. MOMMY ISSUES thankyou ambassador Prentiss. hostage scene + injuries. mentions of forced/pressured marriage. fem!reader. reader and Emily struggle to bond.
next chpt.
main masterlist.
authors note: We never meet Emily's dad nor do we see a picture so while reader is given a nickname of Bugsy, she still keeps her real name (no use of y/n) and is given ZERO physical descriptors. ALL of my fem!readers should feel included here, let me know if this is not the case! also I don't speak any language besides English however she does speak many because of her mom, so I really tried to get it right, message me if I'm being stupid!!
[this] means its spoken in another language.
‘trouble on my left, trouble on my right,
I’ve been facing trouble almost all my life’
1. the one where you become a translator.
“I’ll make some calls, I may still have some friends in the Eastern countries,” Ambassador Prentiss announced to the room, standing from her place on the plush sofa. 
A case had landed quite literally in Emily’s lap when her mother had come by that morning asking for Hotch, a Russian migrant looking for her father with a ransom note and a sliced off finger shoved through her mailbox, wedding ring still attached. 
It wasn’t every day Emily wished she’d brushed up on her Russian, but today of all days she was struggling to keep up. 
“We don’t have much time, we need a division of labour,” Hotch’s serious face settled, the time constraints making him just that bit more dictatorial, “Morgan, someone needs to go to the Chernus’s house in Baltimore in case they are contacted again,” 
“What about the language barrier?” Derek raised, smoothing a hand over the short scruff of his beard, “We can’t have the unsub speaking with the family directly. He could say anything to them without us knowing,” 
Bugsy would hate to admit she fit the criteria for youngest daughter of a workaholic mother and distant father to a tea, but Emily would say different. 
Elizabeth Prentiss had never been a warm woman; Emily used to tell her the scowl was a side effect of the overplucking of her eyebrows, not the serious nature of her job. Her youngest girl once said her mother’s lips looked like she’d sucked a lemon. Of course they admired her work, but world peace meant jack shit to a little girl wanting nothing more than a mother’s hug. 
Despite the fact she’d pushed away her husband and both her daughters in favour of her career, the one useful thing about being the Ambassador’s daughter wasn’t just the money, but the widespread culture the girls had been crammed full of since they could so much as beg for a sippy cup. 
“Baltimore, you say?” Emily asked Hotch with a somewhat doubtful wince, “I mean you could always-”
“Absolutely not,” Her mother cut her off, rubbing the stress lines already creasing her forehead at the very notion of her other daughter, despite the fact Emily hadn’t even finished her thought.
Emily’s sigh was a reflex, the years of her mother cutting her off sparking the frustration on instinct. 
“She lives right in the city, Mother, it can’t hurt to have her just talk for them-” Emily tried to bargain, only for the sharp mouthed Ambassador shoot her a frown. 
“End of discussion, Emily,” Elizabeth snipped, her manicured fingernails twitching with annoyance, “Your sister is much too young for an assignment so serious,”
Emily rolled her eyes with a scoff, as if the two had slipped back into the role of rebellious teenager and scathing mother without much thought. 
“She's twenty-two, mom. She’s getting her masters degree for Christ sakes, she’s not ‘too young’,” The dark headed woman fought back, clicking her pen a few times as if the spring loaded ink would take away some of the temper Elizabeth seemed to flare up. 
Her mother’s lips pursed, in the way Bugsy hated, in the way that meant she was going to be mean.
“Immature may have been a better word, then,” She replied, and Emily seemed to pause. She couldn’t argue with that. “Or perhaps lazy, or puerile; callow, wild, irresponsible. Would you like me to name more?” 
“Asinine would be a good term; deriving from the Latin asinus it not only means foolish, but to be stubborn and lazy like an ass,” Spencer input helpfully to the Ambassador, only for his bright smile to fade when he saw the daggers Emily stared at him with, “Sorry, I love word games,” He muttered into his lap. 
“Asinine. Perfect, Dr Reid,” Elizabeth said, and Emily could only roll her eyes harder.
Hotch huffed, the victim’s daughter watching between the two women’s quarrel with wet eyes, the ice box with her father’s finger clenched tightly in her lap, the cold of the limb bleeding into his own gaze.
“Unfortunately, Ambassador Prentiss, despite just how asinine your daughter might be, Morgan is right. Having the Unsub possibly speaking with the family without us understanding what he’s saying could prove fatal,” He explained, ignoring the way the older woman’s mouth scrunched in bitterness. They didn’t need to be profilers to see that despite how tempered the relationship between Emily and her mother was, a tension seemed to fall between the women the moment the younger Prentiss was mentioned. 
Spencer was sure he was the only person who even knew Emily had a little sister. 
“Very well, but don’t be surprised when you find your hands full of the girl,” Elizabeth said with a shake of her head as she led the victims, a mother and daughter that seemed to cling to one another for comfort as if to rub salt in her matriarchal wound, into the break room to get away from the frosty atmosphere that now lingered around the table.
Emily sighed, picking around her fingernails the way she did when she was bothered. 
“I’m going to hate these next words that are gonna come out of my mouth,” She started with a long exhale, “But my mother’s right. Bugsy is a handful. Just try not to get her wound up, that girl smells fear,” She looked to Reid who seemed none the wiser, “I’m talking to you, wonder boy. She’ll eat you up and spit you right back out,” 
Spencer gulped quietly. 
Derek only chuckled, slapping a hand down onto Emily’s shoulder, “Relax, Prentiss. Your mom’s just got you all worried. Need I remind you I grew up with two sisters? This will be a piece of cake,”
Those were the famous last words of Derek Morgan. 
Loud, heavy metal music jumped through the wooden door, so loud Morgan worried his three polite knocks would go unheard as the two of them waited outside her dorm for her to answer. Morgan was about to knock again, figuring the music had drowned out the first lot, when the door swung open and a frown the spitting image of Emily’s stressed expression met their gaze. 
She looked so different to their Prentiss, but the way she seemed already scorned by the two of them told them they had the right woman. 
“Miss Prentiss?” Morgan asked formally, though he felt the warmth grow when he caught sight of a beat up friendship bracelet around her wrist amongst newer gold chains, five white blocks spelling out her sister’s name pulling tight on her skin, as if she’d quickly outgrown the thing but hadn’t the heart to remove it. 
It was then that he and Reid seemed to both reel back slightly at the fact she was standing in a large shirt, ratty around the edges, and what seemed to be a pair of men's boxers covering her bottom half, clearly not suspecting particularly important visitors. 
She looked him head to toe with a frown, a dozen piercings in her ears, her hair highlighted with streaks of cardinal red, as if he was the one confronting her in his underwear, before she moved onto Spencer, who’s face seemed to be getting hotter by the second as he forced his eyes away from her bare legs. 
“Are you guys strippers? Did someone send strippers to my door?” She asked, strawberry gum smacking between her lips as her gaze seemed to finish mulling over Spencer’s tall form and returned to Morgan.
“Emily sent us.” Reid said shortly, the music blaring in his ears making it difficult to focus on what it was she was saying, “As co-workers, no-not strippers. We’re with the FBI,” 
He hated loud noises anyway, cringed at the sound of particularly cutting rock songs, but since he’d developed his … problem, the dilaudid had him feeling like someone was clawing at his skull, tugging his brain through his ears.
“Emily sent you here?” She asked with a scoff, looking the two up and down again. They both easily caught the way her face hardened, “Are pigs flying today or something?” 
“We’re here to ask for your help on a case,” Spencer rushed through a sweaty brow, “Emily said you’d be able to act as a translator for us and some Russian citizens who are being targeted,” 
She sighed sceptically, crossing her arms and leaning against the door frame, “Any strippers or non-strippers can fraud an ID. Emily’s name was in the paper just the other week. I’m gonna need a little more than that,”
She keeps track of her sister despite the supposed distance between them. Spencer was quick to profile, his mind whirring at all the ways she reminded him of her sister down to the way she raised her eyebrows expectantly at them. 
“Emily was born October twelfth, 1970 at 7:12am, graduated from Garfield High School in 1989,” Spencer said as if reporting the weather, her eyes narrowing in on him all the more coldly, “She attended Chesapeake Bay University and speaks six languages, as I expect you do from moving so often with your mother. She coined your nickname Bugsy from your childhood love of ladybugs, which she said you grew out of by the time you turned eleven yet the name stuck, though you still like counting the spots to identify their species. Your parents split when you were five and your father moved in with his now wife, born September ninth-”
“Alright- alright. What are you, living in her walls?” She interrupted incredulously, before turning her attention to Derek who seemed to hide a chuckle with a cough. “Either you really are a stripper or you’re a terrible friend,”
“She loves Kurt Vonnegut,” Derek held his finger as if to prove her entirely wrong, although not much else came to him. Maybe he was a bad friend, he thought guiltily, or maybe he simply lacked an eidetic memory like the wonder boy next to him, who had been about to tell her how old she was when Emily’s pet betta fish died, “Slaughterhouse 5?”
Rolling her eyes, she grunted at them, kicking her door open for them to enter. 
“Everyone loves Vonnegut; only losers under a rock dislike Vonnegut,” She drawled, edging back into her room, the heavy bass rock growing in volume as they followed her in, “I’ll be ready in a second- Emily’s always bugging me about wearing pants,” She said vaguely, scanning around the dirty dorm, until she found one particular pair of jeans laying half under her bed, quickly yanking them up her legs. “Come in, come in.” 
She flicked the speakers way down to which Spencer took a breath of relief. His eyes fell to the laptop that had been set up on her desk, the five different textbooks littered around the spare space, energy drinks and empty mugs filling the cracks where he could barely see the generic white of the table top, his nose crinkling. About as gross as he’d expect from a college student. 
“Emily said your Russian was pretty good,” Derek made conversation, his eyes wandering over the various posters plastered over her walls, some fraying round the edges from where she had likely been moved from bedroom to bedroom when the Prentiss’s inevitably had to move country again. 
“Yeah,” She snarked, pulling a nicer top over her head, “Kinda tends to happen when you live in Russia,”
Morgan raised his eyebrows to Spencer who seemed to give him the same look back, though the latter was biting back a snicker at her words. 
How in the hell was she the Ambassador’s daughter?
“This all involves Russian Mafia, it’s really beefed up here the last ten years or so,” Agent Cramer, a tall, slim man who looked entirely overwhelmed by the workload on his shoulders reported, as she listened intently. 
She had been somewhat de-briefed in the car, Emily messaging her for the first time since Christmas, the message a simple: “Have you met with Morgan and Reid yet? Make sure to put on pants,” to which she sent her a thumbs up emoji. She didn’t have much to say to her at the moment, barely even knew her sister anymore. 
“It started off mainly in New York and LA but they send lieutenants from the old country,” Cramer went on, and she caught Reid scratching his arm beneath his shirt. She knew it was mozzy weather, and he was already under the blaring sun in a little sweater, it wouldn’t surprise her if he felt a bit prickly. 
“Pahkans,” She interrupted, the man named Gideon shooting her a glance as she dug through her purse. 
“Your Mom do much work about the Mafia?” He asked, as she produced a clear nail varnish. 
“Here and there, I had to sit with her in her office for a whole Summer once when I got caught sneaking out. Picked up a few things, though,” She said, holding the polish out to Spencer, nodding to his arm, “Here. Supposed to help bug bites,”
He looked at her as if he wanted to say something, perhaps question her sources for such an old wives tale, but he stopped himself quickly, taking the varnish out of her hand with a dejected nod. 
“Thankyou,” He muttered, shoving it in his pocket. 
Three months he’d been in this rabbit hole. She had noticed it in a matter of hours. 
“They open up branch offices in other cities. Baltimore, Saint Louis, Chicago, Dallas, the list goes on,” Cramer added, nodding at her words, “They’re mainly offshoots of the Odessa Mafia and they’re especially tough to crack from a law enforcement standpoint. I mean beside being well organised with sophisticated technical equipment, there’s Vory v Zakone to contend with,” 
“The thieves code, eighteen principles they live by,” Reid jumped in before she could, to which she nodded as Gideon looked to her for more. 
“It means ‘thief in law’, or ‘thief with code’. It's a system of repeatedly jailed convicts that have been crowned or ‘made’ with a strict list of ideals, breaking them usually means death,” She explained, kicking a stone between her feet. 
“It’s like bible to these guys. We’re not gonna be turning any of them informer anytime soon,” Cramer said. Gideon seemed to tune the three of them out however, his gaze locking on the house across the street, where a curtain twitched, and a man’s face appeared in the window, watching the crime scene with guilt. 
“Then we’ll need a witness who will talk,” Gideon replied, heading straight towards the neighbour who seemed just a little too invested in what was happening, much more than a concerned third party should be. Though, she had barely noticed, digging through her purse once more for chapstick. 
“So, you study Russian or something?” Cramer asked as she applied it gently, Spencer swore he could smell the cherry flavour from where he stood beside her. 
“I lived in Moscow until I was six, moved back to France, then back to Italy, then Algeria for a bit. Bounced around Europe for a bit longer, but I still speak better Russian than anything else,” She clarified, and she saw Cramer’s eyebrows shoot up, “Military brat except I don’t get the cool discount at the store,” 
“You must have had a lot of friends though, going to so many schools,” Spencer added, and though there was nothing teasing about his tone, she laughed sharply anyway. 
“You’re funny,” She snarked, but smiled at him anyway.
Spencer had never been called funny in his life. ‘Funny looking’, ‘funny sounding’ maybe, but never funny. 
In fact he was so confused by what she had meant, whether it had been a taunt or genuine that he almost missed the sound of the whole street locking their front doors, dead bolting their lives away when a black prius, an expensive one at that, pulled through the street and swerved into park next to them. 
“Guess who,” Cramer bit, her eyes ripping away from where Gideon had the door slammed in his face. 
Detective Cramer aged by about five years when two tall men got out of the luxury car, opening the door for a shorter man in the back seat, their faces thunder. 
“You familiar with them?” She asked, shoulder brushing against Spencer as she turned to watch the men approach, entirely aware of the .9mm on each of their hips. 
“Arseny Lysowsky,” The detective identified, his voice cold, eyeing the two men who flanked the leader, towering over them. 
“Agent Cramer, how are you?” Lysowsky smiled at him, which oddly enough seemed somewhat real, as he also took stock of the three other people around him. His eyes lingered on her for a moment, noting her lack of gun and badge, trying to decipher if she was local or just a very unprepared fed. 
“Lysowsky, what brings you out?” Cramer asked, a tightness to his tone, his hand all too eager to grab his own pistol. 
“I heard Chernuses had problems,” He kept it vague, didn’t reveal too much, and looked back at the victim’s house with a scorned frown. 
“How did you hear that?” Gideon challenged, stance unwavering as the mob leader turned to meet his cold gaze. 
“And you are?” He asked, a sinister smile on his face that flipped her stomach. She didn’t like the tension that had overcome the little patch of sidewalk they took up, and she was quick to notice how Spencer moved towards her. 
He, by far, wasn’t the best shot on the team, but he was sure Hotch and Prentiss would have his and Morgan’s heads if any harm came to her. 
“Churneses said they hadn’t told anyone,” Agent Gideon ignored his question, hands firmly planted on his hips. If he was unnerved by the criminal in front of him, he never showed it, not even when Lysowsky’s grin widened horribly. 
“It is a small community. Word gets out,” He said simply, looking past him to the neighbours house that had kicked Gideon to the curb, “Are you a friend of Gorban’s?”
A second of silence passed between them, neither of them backing down from the moral standoff they’d engaged in. 
“Mr Gorban wouldn’t talk to me,” Gideon admitted, and Arseny only smiled again, flicking a look at the house behind him, as if hearing his dog had obeyed without command. 
“Would you like me to talk to him for you?” The threat was there clear as day, clear enough to have Gideon’s eyes narrow, “I can’t promise something will come of it,” 
“You!” In a second, Natalya, the victim she’d briefly met when Morgan had pulled up around an hour before, had stormed out of her house, her black kitten heels clicking against the concrete, “Where’s my father? He has my father!” 
“Wait a minute,” Derek called, restraining her where she stood, trying to pull his muscled arm from her shoulder, “Do you know he has your father?” 
“He’s responsible for all of this,” She spat, her eyes cold as she glared at the three men with vitriol hate, “Why everyone’s afraid, him and his animals,” She threw a hand up to his bodyguards that seemed barely contained by Cramer’s silencing hand. 
“I am only here to help,” Lysowsky replied, confident and calm in his words, though not as taunting as the agents would have thought, as if he truly cared for her.
A vast difference to the sadistic mob boss Cramer’s team had painted him to be. 
“Help?” She laughed woefully, tears in her eyes, “You’re a dog,” 
“Natalya,” Arseny said in a warning, the way a teacher would to a student, as her breath rattled in her chest through a weep. 
“How exactly can you help them?” Bugsy braved to speak, Gideon and Reid both flashing her a look. She’d always had trouble holding her tongue. 
Lysowsky turned his attention to her then, his eyes running down her figure, still deciphering whether she was armed; she looked much too young to be an agent. 
“In any way that they’d like me to, darling,” He replied, the disdain in her frown clearly not deterring him in the slightest, though again the act of concern held up in his own grimace, “As I said this is a small community. If one is in pain, we’re all in pain.”
Natalya weeped behind Morgan, sniffling as the boss made his way over to her, “Natalya, [you didn’t have to bring in outsiders],” 
The younger woman’s ears pricked up as he spoke in his native language, Spencer’s eyes flicking to her from behind his sunglasses. 
“[Let me help you],” He continued, taking a step towards Natalya, unthreatening yet she saw Morgan tense, his fingers twitching towards his gun. 
“[My family will never come to you for help],” Natalya hissed back, also in Russian, her face contorted in disgust, “[Get away from my house],” 
“[You are not right, Natalya],” He replied, yet again the concern in his eyes was either genuine or very well faked, “[You have made the wrong decision],” 
Taking a step away from the victim that wept with a scorned sneer, he looked back to the agents, noting the way the youngest of them glared at him hotly, before retreating to his car. 
“What did he say? Did he threaten you, Natalya?” Morgan asked, the woman watching the group of men drive away, as if Mr Chernus wasn’t still missing and they hadn’t just bumped themselves up to number one of the suspects list. “Talk to us and we can do something about it,”
“He said I made the wrong decision,��� She said wetly, frustration turning on Derek as he pushed her for an answer, “I hope I didn’t,” 
With that she stormed off back into her house, the same stomping of her kitten heels in her wake, leaving the agents to all look between one another before they simultaneously turned to look at Bugsy, questions hovering on all of their lips. 
“What did he say exactly?” Gideon asked without frills, a hand rubbing his brow. Relaying the information, the men’s faces all drew into frowns as they heard Lysowsky’s parting statement. Gideon huffed, turning to Morgan and gesturing for him to follow Natalya inside. 
“Morgan, keep an eye on her, Reid and I are going to Cramer’s office to look over the files,” He looked at her then, worry lines littering his otherwise friendly face, damn near scowling as she looked over at him, “You are here to interpret, you understand? You do not speak to the suspects, that’s our job.” He growled, watching her with disappointment, the same tone a father used when scolding a petulant child, “Do you have any idea how much danger you could put yourself in? These guys won’t hesitate to take you out the second we’re not around, kid,” 
“But-” She started with a bite, though her whole fight left her when he silenced her with a raised hand. 
“Buts are for cigarettes, kiddo,” He interrupted, and Spencer winced slightly, knowing he’d heard that one a few hundred times when he’d first started under Gideon and had yet to mature entirely. Reid watched something rebellious flare in her eyes, and he worried for a moment she might just slap his boss for the patronising tone he took, “Just keep your mouth shut, you’re doing great so far,” 
She opened her mouth to protest, only to then register his words entirely and stay silent once more, appreciating his praise with a guilty smile. For once, she listened. 
The grandfather clock chimed to tell them it was merely 11am; two hours until the unsub would start cutting more if they didn’t get the ransom fee, two hours to figure out who wanted Natalya’s family to suffer. 
Said woman paced her living room at the sound of the hour, as Bugsy picked over the knick knacks on her fireplace, a small smile teasing her lips when she saw a picture of three small children grinning toothily at the camera. 
She had never gotten any photo’s similar, Emily being fourteen years older. The majority of their childhood photos consisted of a very grumpy teenager holding her baby sister that seemed to squirm in the tight, formal dresses Elizabeth Prentiss had forced them into, identical scowls on their faces as they were made to sit for the picture. 
There were some good memories, ones where Emily let herself be a sister and not a mom, where she would put makeup on her for fun and do her hair, let her have all the clothes out her wardrobe she thought looked nice, reading to her before bed, even letting her sister keep her pet corn snake when she left home for good. 
But now, it seemed like she was too caught up in her super serious grown up job to give a shit that her sister lived just an hour away. Still messaged each other for holidays, but the last few times she’d braved a call to the eldest Prentiss, it had gone unanswered. They argued the majority of the time they spoke, or there was an awkward long silence in between words, whichever was worse, but they each knew the other would come running if they were to ever need them so desperately. 
“Are you hungry? I could make something?” Natalya offered kindly, Derek having a poke through her collection of books that sat on the end table, though he’d have a tough job reading them as she’d already caught most of them were in her home language. 
“Oh, no thanks. I’m fine,” He replied with a small smile, putting down the books to calm the clearly on edge woman that looked to the twenty-something year old hopefully. 
She shook her head, “I’m good, thanks,” which seemed to deflate her entirely as she sat next to Derek with a sigh.
“I guess I’m like my mother. When she’s upset, she cooks,” Natalya said with a sad huff of a laugh, running a hand through her short, dark hair. 
“Yeah, mine does too. I think that’s just a mom thing,” He replied, and Bugsy felt the two of them look at her as her finger traced the old brass ornaments gently, “How about you, baby Prentiss?” 
She snorted, “You’re kidding, right?” smiling bitterly, “My mom never cooked for us, she said we needed to figure it out for ourselves rather than relying on the staff. Didn’t stop her from trying to end world hunger though,” 
It wasn’t lost to Morgan the way her eyes trained on the picture of Natalya and her mother, cuddled together with genuine love in their embrace, the snarky humour as she spoke, the same longing Emily seemed almost too good at hiding from them. 
“Your mother is a great woman,” Natalya complimented, though she missed the way the girl’s face steeled over, chewing her bottom lip as if to stop herself from snapping at the woman who meant well. She said nothing. “Where is your mother?” She turned her attention back to Derek who seemed the more talkative of the two of them. 
“Chicago. That’s where I’m from,” He replied, watching Bugsy turn away from the two of them to inspect more of the Chernus’s trinkets on their walls. 
“I’m from Dolgoprudny. Just North of Moscow.” Natalya replied. Opening her mouth to add something else, she was cut off by a knock at the door and the three of them froze in their place. 
“Are you expecting someone?” Morgan asked Natalya in a hushed tone, reaching for his gun and heading for the door. 
She shook her head, “No,” She whispered back. Morgan pulled the curtain back the smallest inch to see a small blonde boy staring back, a box in his hands and a bored look on his face. 
It all happened too fast from there, Natalya opening the door for the neighbourhood kid, opening the box to see a decapitated ear, the blood fresh and pooling in the bottom of the box. It couldn’t have been taken longer than an hour or so ago, unless they were keeping the parts on ice. 
Bugsy’s hand slapped over her mouth, Natalya’s scream piercing through her as she shoved the box into Derek’s hands, fleeing to the toilet, and she heard the woman retching. Part of her felt the same nausea settle in her stomach, looking away from the body part with a wince as Derek got straight on the phone to Gideon. 
“They didn’t wait, man. They sent a box with-” He swallowed thickly, “With Mr Chernus’s ear inside.”
Gideon replied, and whatever it was, it had Derek looking back to her. He agreed, hanging up the phone and rooting through his pockets, producing a set of rattling keys, holding them out for you between the tips of his fingers. 
“Gideon wants you, kid. He said they’re at the Little Kiev restaurant, they’re going to talk to Lysowsky,” Morgan said, grimacing as he held the ear away from her, “You sure you’ll be okay to drive?” 
“I’d rather be on the road than look at what’s in that box,” She said in disgust, taking the keys and heading out to the car.
She thought it best for everyone she didn’t tell him she hadn’t yet got her licence as she made her way over to the restaurant. 
-
“Reid and I will do the talking, just see if anything he’s saying connects with Vory v zakone, think you got that?” Gideon instructed her the second she got out of the car, taking the keys and handing them back to Reid who gave her a small nod. 
“We think the reason it was Mr Chernus who was targeted has something to do with the code,” Reid explained, his hands in his pockets as the three of them approached the restaurant, “You said earlier you understood the tenants,” 
“Why me, though? I thought I was just translating?” She repeated Gideon’s earlier words, almost cocky that they needed her.
“Lysowsky would feel the need to show face in front of men like Morgan and Cramer, even in front of Natalya since she lives locally. Between the three of us, he had less reputation to uphold, less so with a young woman like yourself,” Reid added, holding the door open for her to go in front. 
And so there she was, trailing behind Gideon and Reid over to where Lysowsky sipped a spoonful of borscht, as she tried not to marvel at the grandeur of the establishment inside. Clearly, Arsney had money to build a place like this, and wasn’t afraid to be flashy about it either, that much was apparent from the other clientele that tended to their beers around their own tables, Rolex watches and designer shoes adorning nearly every one of them. She hated to think of how many ears or fingers those suits had cost. 
“Would you like something to eat?” He asked, a chunk of bread in his hand dipping into the thick sauce, seemingly unbothered that they were there, “This borscht is exquisite, it’s my mother’s old country recipe,” 
“Didn’t you forsake all your relatives when you swore the thieves code?” Reid asked, which she guessed was hit foot in to get Lysowsky to talk. 
“I didn’t forsake her recipes,” Lysowsky replied with a shrug, looking to her where she seemed to be staring at his plate, “Borscht?” 
She shook her head, her nose wrinkling, “Much preferred stroganoff, mom used to force me to have borscht to make sure I ate my veggies,”  
His eyebrows raised, surprise written over his face, before he gave a short laugh. 
“[Where are you from]?” He asked in his mother tongue, gesturing for the three of them to sit down, though his eyes lit up as he watched her carefully. 
“[I was born in DC, but my mother worked in Moscow for a few years],” She answered shortly, and he seemed to find it even funnier that the near child they’d brought along on their case spoke as fluently as he did. 
Laughing with a heavy hand smacking on the table, he gestured to a nearby waiting staff to come over. 
“What are you having then, borscht for the gentle man?” He looked at Reid and Gideon, the former shaking his head while Gideon nodded with an awkward smile. 
“I’d love a taste,” He said, though any enthusiasm seemed to have drained out of his voice. 
“And what is the little lady having?” Lysowsky asked, his eyes falling back to her, as she straightened in her seat. 
She chanced a quick glance to Gideon, who nodded at her to play his game. She had not expected to be so deep in criminal territory when they’d said they needed a translator, and truly they hadn’t planned on getting her in the field until they realised she would know much more about this than they would.
“Do you have sharlotka?” She asked, returning his smile wearily as he clicked at the waiter who all but bolted to the kitchen. 
“A sweet tooth. I like it,” Arseny replied, shovelling a heap of beets into his mouth, “Our favourite was always Leningradsky,”
“Ours?” She prompted, giving a polite thanks to the waiter who returned too quickly with a slice of cake. She caught Spencer glancing at the bowl with intrigue, the hunger clear on the quiet man’s face. Gently pushing the bowl and clean spoon towards him, he flicked a look up at her, “Apple cake,” She whispered, sending him a small smile, “Really yummy with the sugar on top,” 
“Mine and my mother’s,” Arseny replied, though Gideon and Reid both caught how he paused before he replied, as if he had to think about the answer he was giving; the oldest tell that it wasn’t entirely true, “We didn’t have much when I was a boy, but that was always our dessert of choice,” 
She stopped for a mere second, missing the moment when Spencer spooned the tiniest bite of the cake into his mouth, trying to ignore the way his tongue exploded in the sweet, fruit taste. He hadn’t eaten anything properly in days, and maybe that was why it tasted so good, but more likely it was just the fact that everything sweet tasted even better when he was on his come downs. 
“We need to talk, Arseny,” Gideon interrupted, ignoring the way Spencer pined to go back in for a second mouthful, but chose to hand the bowl back to her with a small smile. 
“We are on first name basis?” Lysowsky asked, shaking his head, and she took a small bite of the sweet cake for herself, “I still don’t even know who you are,” 
“I think I understand something about this,” Gideon replied, his thumbs tapping together, the waiter returning with his borscht, “You have a problem,” 
“I do?” The pahkan titled his head at the agent, the annoyance clear on his face. 
“That’s why you came to the Chernus’ house this morning,” Gideon answered, unbothered as he began to scoop the borscht onto the spoon, the apple cake in her own mouth going down a treat. 
She kept her head down, took tiny bites of the dessert that certainly tasted like a fresh baked sharlotka. But her thoughts lingered on what Lysowsky had said, about his own favourite pudding. 
It made no sense that he would have ever tasted Leningradsky shortbread, not for the time that he was born, nor with the amount of money he claimed his family lacked. Infact, the way he fully pronounced his vowels, the akanye, the stress he put on certain parts of his words, all pointed to the same dialect you’d heard back in Moscow, more central than anything else. 
So how on earth would he have eaten the so-called ‘Royal Cake’ that had only been made eight hours from there, in the town it grew its name from. 
There was something glaringly obvious about his story missing. 
“A man like me?” She tuned back into the conversation, swallowing another mouthful down as Gideon took another bite himself, though it seemed the topic had turned sour as Arseny wiped his mouth with the corner of his napkin. 
“Four watchtowers and a convict signifies a stay in prison,” Spencer cut in, nodding towards the tattoos branded across his knuckles, “Each one of those crosses symbolises an individual sentence,” 
“Twenty three years in prison in the Ural mountains,” 
But she was still stuck on what it was she was missing. It had been such an odd thing to lie about, particularly when he’d even admitted himself that they hadn’t had much money, so he clearly hadn’t been lying to fake a reputation. 
So why lie?
She was ripped out of her stumped silence when Natalya entered the restaurant, her voice grabbing the men’s attention immediately. 
“Mr Lysowsky. You said you could help me,” She said, her purse over her shoulder and her own car keys gripped tightly in her hand as if she’d all but thrown herself out the vehicle to get there faster. 
“Don’t you already have help,” Lysowsky snapped, clearly Gideon had dug under his skin enough to garner a reaction. 
“I made a mistake,” Natalya replied, barely meeting Bugsy’s gaze as she stared at her from her seat at the table. “I talked to my father on the phone,” 
The girl frowned at her, “That’s a lie,” It came out before she could hold herself, brows furrowed at whatever it was she was trying to pull. Gideon said her name in a reprimand, though he too was looking at the woman as if she’d grown a second head. 
“Thankyou for coming, but I don’t need your help,” The woman met her confused look with a saddened expression, nodding to her solemnly. 
Leave it alone, she seemed to be saying, there’s nothing more I want you to do. 
And with that, the two of them left the restaurant, Natalya walking by his side obediently, her purse tucked in close under her arm, as Morgan and Cramer filed in from the parking lot, watching their only leads drive away without a fight. 
The team were quick to head back to Natalya’s home, only to find the ear missing and the finger gone too, the only evidence left of any crime being committed leaving with the victim’s daughter herself. 
“She’s not here, and the garbage was never taken out,” Morgan said with a grimace as he walked down the front steps to meet the four of them on the sidewalk. 
“Her dad just went missing, surely we can cut the girl some slack-” Bugsy words were hidden in a huff, rolling your eyes at the man who cut a glance to her. 
“No, no. When Hotch first talked to us, he said she noticed her father’s car in the driveway when she took the garbage out,” Morgan explained, his shades blocking the way the cogs turned behind his dark eyes. 
“Right?” Reid asked, his own sunglasses now covering his eyes that winced at the brightness, surrounding them.
“Garbage can in the kitchen is completely full, she never took it out.” 
“She lied,” Gideon said with finality, the penny beginning to drop for him too. 
“She could be half way back to Dolgo-whatever by now,” Morgan scoffed, his arms smacking against his side as the lightbulb went off over her head, the final puzzle piece falling into place. 
“Dolgoprudny?” Spencer asked, exchanging a glance with Cramer, “Isn’t that where Lysowsky’s from-”
“Yes, YES, of course!” She exclaimed, grabbing onto Spencer’s arm as he spoke. 
He looked at her with wide eyes, not that she could see since his shades blocked the way, only to feel her shake him harder in the midst of her enthusiasm. Part of him wanted to rip his arm out of her grip, waiting for the sickness to crawl up his throat at a strangers germs touching him, but the oddest part of him reasoned she had the same germs as Emily did, that the fifty percent DNA the women shared negated the fact she was a stranger, just as it did when he met Jack. Jack had Hotch germs. Bugsy had Emily’s. He didn’t feel so sick thinking of it like that. 
“I knew I was missing something,” She said, turning to Gideon, “He was lying before, about his favourite dessert. There was no way he could have had Leningradsky with his mother. Given his age, at that time in Soviet Russia, shortbread was incredibly expensive, only extremely wealthy families could have eaten it. That, and given the Central dialect he speaks in, I’d pinpointed he lives somewhere near or around Moscow, which means there was no way he was eating that cake considering it was only ever baked in one shop at first, one way up in Leningrad, where St Petersburg is now, like nine hours away from Moscow-” 
“What’s your point?” Cramer asked, tired of the somewhat slew of thoughts she’d been saving until she knew for sure what she meant. 
“Before when he said it was ‘our favourite’, I don’t think he was talking about him and his mother,” She explained, looking to see if Spencer at least understood what she was getting at. 
“It was him and his own child…” Spencer finished, as Morgan’s phone began ringing.
“Yeah, what?” He asked, the frustration clear in his tone that they were all still without the evidence needed to pin it on Lysowsky, “You’re sure? Uh-huh. Okay, thanks doll,” 
The four of them looked at him expectantly as he nodded to her, “Garcia just got into the bank’s system, somebody wired 500 thousand dollars into the account ten minutes ago,”
“Who wired it?” Spencer asked, though he was still reeling from the way she’d touched him, the way her voice went up about five octaves and a dozen decibels.
“She didn’t say, but the name on the account is Lyov Fulenko. She says that’s Lysowsky’s wife’s maiden name. Fulenko.” Morgan replied, and her brows furrowed. 
“Why did she bring us into this?” Gideon asked, though the solemn look on his face said he already knew, “Because she needed to put pressure on the other victim,” 
Gideon headed towards Mr Gorban’s house once more, though it was clear he had already sketched out in his head who was their unsub and Natalya’s involvement, he simply needed the confirmation. 
Morgan clapped a hand on her back, “Nice job, baby Prentiss. Those were some mean profiling skills out there,”
She frowned at him, scoffing,  “I’m not a profiler, that’s Emily’s job. It was just basic linguistics really; more a display of how I need to lay off cake for a while.”
The man kissed his teeth with a grin, “Don’t put yourself down. What’s your degree even in?”
She shrugged, picking under her nails for something to do, “Individualised genomics and health.” She said as if it were child’s play, though Spencer’s head shot to her. 
“Biotechnology?” He asked, and she glanced at him with a nod, “What’s your thesis on?” 
Gideon had returned by the time he’s asked, and began corralling the two of them back to the car, “We’re heading back to the restaurant. We need to speak with Lysowsky again,” 
But it had fallen on deaf ears as Spencer looked at her expectantly. 
“Just some new research into prenatal screening, nothing too fun,” She simpered, climbing into the back seat as he nodded with her. 
“I read a fascinating paper on the uses of hCG in a woman’s body-” 
“Reid,” Gideon cut him off with a short glance from the front seat, “Continue this conversation once we’ve found Mr Chernus alive,” 
Spencer blushed, feeling like a kid caught in the cookie jar, “Sorry, sir,” He looked over at her, only to see her hiding a smile to herself. 
He thinks it was then he’d decided Emily had been wrong about her.
-
“You paid the ransom already,” Gideon said plainly, the four of them trailing behind him as he followed Lysowsky to a small seating area in the front of the restaurant. She could tell the whole way Spencer had been itching to ask her more questions about her paper, barely contained as his fingers had twitched in his lap, but he seemed to straighten himself out once she’d reached the restaurant, “You paid all the ransoms,”
“Sit,” The boss ordered, barely glancing at them as he held his strong whiskey up.
“Are they going to kill Mr Chernus?” Morgan asked, cutting to the chase as Lysowsky spared him a bored glance.
“No,” He replied shortly, the look on his face about as grumpy as when they’d left. 
“The account is in the name of Lyov Fulenko. Lyov is a man’s name.” Spencer input, crossing his arms as the boss glared at him, “A son’s name. Vory v Zakone. Never have a family of your own. No wife. No children.”
“Lyov,” He looked at her then, gesturing to her with the glass of strong liquor, “You know what it means?”
“The Lion,” She replied gravely, steeling herself against his dark eyes. 
“No one else would be so stupid,” Lysowsky ran a hand over his weathered face, swigging his drink as if it was the only thing keeping him talking. “At first it didn’t mean much. It was a way of letting him earn his own money. I could afford it, it came from the fund. And no one questions the use of the fund-”
“Where is he?” Gideon asked, his elbows on his knees as he leaned in.
“What else could I do?” He was ignored, “I couldn’t admit I wasn’t blessing the kidnappings, I couldn’t even admit my son existed.” He huffed when he saw Gideon’s face unmoving from the glower, his question still unanswered, “Chernus will be home in a few minutes. You should be there, he will need medical attention,” He shooed them away, with his final words, drink sloshing in his hand. His face darkened, impossibly so, and the five of them looked at him, something sad and remorseful shining back. 
“What are you gonna do?” She asked, though she had a feeling she already knew the answer. 
“Vory v Zakone.” He said heavily, nodding to her, “We take care of our own troubles.”
It was a silent journey back to the Chernus’ house. 
-
Morgan and Reid pulled up to the campus, the younger girl in the back seat almost dozing off with the rhythmic hum of the engine, the evening sun much nicer on Spencer’s sensitive eyes. 
“This is you, baby Prentiss,” Derek’s voice jolted her out of the half sleep she was in, straightening herself from where she had her head pressed against the window. 
“Thanks,” She muttered, rubbing her eyes and unbuckling herself as they did the same, assuming they wanted to walk her back to her dorm since it had gotten dark, “I’ll be okay on my own, campus security should be out by now,”
“You sure?” Reid asked, flicking his watch up to his eyes to see the meagre 6:13pm staring back at him, “I thought they started at 7,”
She blinked at him, her eyebrows quirking for a moment, “How do you know that?”
“Johns Hopkins was my backup option- well actually it was my third, I much preferred Caltech’s curriculum, Yale was my second-” He started, flicking a glance to her where she waited for him to finish, “Not that Johns was bad, there were just better- alternative options out there-” 
“Don’t shit your pants, I’m hardly the dean of the university,” She chuckled indignantly patting them both on the shoulder before sliding over to open the door, “Nice meeting you both, I’ll just get back to my mediocre college with my poor curriculum, nothing like the solid gold bathrooms at Caltech-”
“I never said that!” She laughed again, with her whole chest, at his defensive tone as she stepped out the car, hand on the door to shut it behind her. 
Leaning down to give them both a wave goodbye, Derek’s voice stopped her again, “Baby Prentiss, do us all a favour and enrol yourself into forensics, we need more people on our team,”
Smirking at him, she shook her head, “Very funny. Never gonna happen. I like my little slides and samples, thankyou,” 
Slamming the door on the two of them she headed for the front gates, swinging her purse over her shoulder. She was stopped by a hand on her shoulder, and she quickly realised she’d been too tired to even realise a set of footsteps jogging after her. 
Maybe she should have taken that walk home after all. 
Whirling around, her eyes widened as Spencer had clearly not been leader of the track team as he was half out of breath just from the few feet he’d covered, though she reckoned she could have guessed that seeing his lean ribs beneath his shirt.
He shoved a business card in her face as he caught his breath, though it was more just his name and credentials followed by a phone number. 
“I-I don’t have email otherwise I would-” He huffed, scratching his forehead as she frowned and looked at him.
“I’ve never been hit on via business card before,” She bit her lip with a smile, reading over the card again as he choked on his words even more than before.
“N-no, I-” He spluttered, ignoring the way Morgan beeped the horn for him, seemingly in a debate with a ticket metre that had caught him parked on yellow, “If you needed us for anything, or if you needed a second pair of eyes for your thesis, I’m happy to help,”
“You don’t have faith in the dummy that got into Johns?” She asked, and his head couldn’t shake fast enough, though he seemed to catch her teasing and shared her smile, “Thanks, Dr Reid,” 
“Spencer’s just fine,” He said, giving her a small nod and a wave as Morgan’s palm bounced on the horn a dozen times. She flashed him one more smile, pocketing his number and heading back to her dorm, wondering what the doctor would think about the paper due in tomorrow she’d yet to get started on.
+1. The one where you get arrested.
The case had been heavy. They’d felt it in the car on the way back to headquarters. A little girl, molested and groomed by her own uncle, his own wife covering for him. 
His mother always told him love makes you do crazy things, but Spencer hoped that whatever part of him worth loving would at least stay sane by the time he found the one. He was loyal to his team, to his mother, but that was where he drew the line. He was loyal to his family, undoubtedly so. 
Yet so was Emily. 
The call came to the second SUV, her phone set up to hands free mode, quickly flicking to answer the call on speaker, the other half of the team ahead of them on the freeway. 
“Prentiss, speaking. Who is this?” She spoke clearly to the unknown number, her knuckles going white at the wheel when she heard a nervous laugh.
“It’s me,” Her sister mumbled through the speaker, “You wouldn’t by any chance be near DC would you?” 
She huffed, cursing the knack Prentiss women had for showing up at the worst times. 
“Can’t this wait, I’m on the clock,” Emily hissed, her finger edging towards the ‘End Call’ button, “I’ll call you after,”
“Wait, wait, don’t hang up!” As if sensing her movements, she all but screeched, “This was my one phone call, they won’t let me have another,” 
The car went silent for a moment, Spencer’s eyes narrowing on the dash from his place in the passenger seat, JJ also leaning forward from the back with a frown. 
Emily grit her teeth, her upper lip twitching the way it did when she was mad. 
“What do you mean by one phone call? Where are you?” She bit in a cautious tone, though knowing how reckless Bugsy tended to be, she had a pretty good idea. 
The hesitation on the other end of the line was palpable, as was the way she awkwardly cleared her throat. 
“Fairfax County Jail,” She murmured sheepishly, “But it wasn’t my fault, these assholes don’t know what they’re talking about, I swear-”
“Stay there and keep your mouth shut,” Emily ordered, her expression furrowing into a sneer, “And for the love of god don’t antagonise the officers,” 
The agent didn’t even wait for a response, knowing it would probably be something snarky, her mind already racing at what the hell her sister could have done this time, every worst possible explanation jumping to the forefront. 
“I’ll call Hotch and tell him to turn around,” JJ offered, her fingers already searching her contacts for their boss, as Emily sighed through her nose. 
“Tell him not to worry, I’ll drop you guys back to headquarters, make my way there myself,” She said, picking the skin of her nail softly with her thumb. 
“By the time we’ve reached Quantico, visiting times will be over and she’ll have to stay the night,” Spencer pointed out, his own surprise evident. Sure, she had certainly been a personality when they had met, but a criminal seemed a stretch. 
“Maybe it would teach her a lesson,” Emily mused, shaking her head to herself, “Who am I kidding, that psycho would Shawshank her way out of there by dawn,”
“You don’t actually think she would hurt anyone do you?” JJ said, the dial tone ringing out from the phone she held to her ear. 
“Wouldn’t put it past her. She once cut a girl's pigtail off for wearing the same dress as her on her birthday,” Emily winced as Spencer’s eyebrows shot into his hairline. 
“I thought getting swirlied was bad,” He muttered, watching out the window as Emily made a U-turn at the traffic lights. He and the now twenty three year old had been bouncing research papers back and forth for a few months, the odd one every week, Bugsy even once joking it was much more interesting and riveting than foreplay, which had his face red hot at his desk.
She was like that, he’d quickly realised, had a vulgar sort of humour about her, yet he couldn’t help the snigger that came out whenever he’d receive one of his papers back through the mail with pink writing scrawled all over his ideas. The little hearts that dotted her exclamations whenever she wrote “AMAZING!”, the odd time she’d written “sexy ideas, doctor Reid” which he’d come to understand meant it was really good. He’d even gotten back the drawing at the end of the paper of a stickman of the two of them, his hair a curly scribble and a purple tie which told him immediately who was who, her line of a hand pointing at his caricature with the speech bubble, “everyone point and wave at the smart man,” which had made him laugh. 
She was odd, toeing the line between childish and witty, nothing like the scholars he usually worked with, and the writing he usually sent back on her papers were all in standard black ink, his own pharmacist handwriting staring back at him as he crammed in his every thought of her research into the margins. If she couldn’t read it, she hadn’t said, but he liked to think she took notice of it all, even if it wasn’t strewn with stars and doodles and the occasional flirt he knew meant nothing. He knew her from her writing, knew her from her ideas that sometimes kept him up at night thinking more about them, but the two of them hadn’t spoken directly, most certainty hadn’t seen one another since that day with the Chernus’.
Emily hummed, fingers drumming on the wheel, entirely unaware of the thoughts rattling around in Spencer’s head, then again that’s how it always was, “I just pray to god she’s listened to me for once in her damn life and keeps quiet,”
-
“Fucking bitch. The nuns in Moscow hit harder than you,” She spat, blood dribbling from her split lip. She wasn’t entirely lying, but god did her mouth sing with pain as she tried to muffle a moan. 
“You got jokes, pig lover?” The other woman asked, a tattoo covering half her cheek, her nose crooked from the shiner the Prentiss girl had already given her. “Won’t be fucking laughing when I’m done, bitch,” The woman was quick to tackle the girl around her stomach, slamming her into the hard concrete of the holding cell. Bugsy felt her skull rattle, the wind whooshing from her chest as rough hands grab her shirt and pin her down harder. 
The younger girl reached the nerve under her opponent's armpit, the soft of her ribs, twisting until the woman gave a bark of shock, and she took the opportunity to shove her off, climbing on top of her as they both scrambled for some sort of control.
“I got one for you. What’s got a broken nose, a black eye and doesn’t know what’s good for her?” She swung twice as hard, the other women in the cell rattling against the bars as if watching a matador taunt a bull, the air thick with excitement as the two of them cursed eachother out.
Emily’s sigh was audible across the room as the wardens separated the cat fight, the largest of the officers all but grabbing her sister by the scruff of the neck like a feral beast, dragging her over with stubborn feet to where the BAU stood in the lobby, eyes widened at the state of her. 
“You better start acting your age, little girl. Mommy’s not gonna be around forever to save you,” The officer hissed in her ear, manhandling her over to where Emily glared daggers into the side of her head. She knew that look, it was eerily similar to mom’s that time she’d been caught sneaking out of the house, something in the warm brown of Emily’s eyes frosting over into a cold blackness. Fury. 
She chewed her words for a moment, waiting until the man had turned around with a grunt of acknowledgement to the badge Emily had flashed to get his attention, before she spoke. 
“She’s not my mom, she's my sister, dumbass-” Emily slapped a hand over her mouth, gripping her shoulder with the bear-like strength her jagged nails possessed when she was mad, the scoff of disgrace leaving her mouth as her team trailed behind the two of them. 
“What the hell happened, baby Prentiss?” Morgan asked, ignoring the way Emily’s heated gaze turned on him, “What’s got you so worked up?”
“Don’t entertain her, Morgan,” Emily seethed, all but shoving her into the back of the SUV. She looked up at her sister with an open mouth, the guilt flashing in her eyes as she wavered under the pointing finger Emily jabbed in her face, “Don't you even dare,” 
“But-” She stammered, cut off when she saw the glare intensified, if that had even been possible. 
“I don’t want to hear another word from you for the rest of the day unless you’re prepared to give me a good explanation why I’ve dragged my team out here to save your sorry ass,” Emily hissed, and the girl’s mouth bobbed a few times, feeling the rest of the team watching as she got thoroughly chewed out. 
“Wait-” Emily’s hand lingered at the car door, ready to slam it in her face as she rubbed her cuff over her chin, mopping up the damage. Her head tilted for a moment, hoping her sister had something good to say, only for it to be; “He just called you old, I hope you realise that,”
Emily’s gaze darkened, slamming the door shut with an anger she imagined her mother had kept warm for the past twenty three years, whirling around heatedly when she heard a snigger from one Derek Morgan. 
“Damn, mama, hear the girl out.” He said, slapping a hand on the woman’s shoulder as he passed, heading back to their own SUV, “Maybe she’ll surprise you,” 
If Emily was going to bite anything back, she didn’t. Instead she ran a hand over her brow, the group disbanding to their cars now the problem child had been picked up from daycare, except for Hotch who watched the older Prentiss with a scowl, despite the worry in his eyes. 
“Hotch, I’m so sorry, just take it off my timecard, I’ll cover all the costs,” She said shakily, her own frown adorning her face as she felt herself blush from embarrassment under her boss’s gaze. 
“I understand she’s your sister, but this was a gross misuse of agent time and resources, Prentiss,” He said, his gaze drifting to where Spencer sat next to the girl, pulling a packet of tissues and hand sanitizer out of his satchel while JJ rooted through her own purse for a plaster, “Don’t let it happen again,” 
Emily nodded vehemently, flushed with anger, her palms sticky as she wiped them on her jeans. 
“Absolutely sir. Believe me, this ever happens again, she’s on her own,” She replied, though they both knew she didn’t mean it. Emily would never. 
He nodded stonily, deciding quickly that it was punishment enough that she felt so ashamed, he knew from his years of arguments with Sean what it was like to have a sibling stray so far. 
“We can fill out reports in the morning, just get Reid and JJ home,” Hotch said, putting a tentative hand on her shoulder as he passed her to head towards his own vehicle, “And try not to kill each other in the company car. It doesn’t look good on paperwork,” 
She beat off the smile on her lips as she got back into the driver's seat, the air that engulfed the four of them foul as she glared over her shoulder and into the back. Spencer twitched in his seat uncomfortably, his hand still passing over tissues to the bloodied girl. 
“So, you gonna tell me what that was about?” Emily asked, her tone brittle and warning, not in the mood for any snarky response she could give, “Or is this old lady going to have to lay into you some more,” 
The smell of strong ethanol engulfed her nose as she held the soaked tissue to her face, frowning into her lap silently and avoiding the burning stare as Emily stuck the keys in the ignition and started the car.
“Let’s start with why you were there,” JJ input, the same tone of voice she used as when talking to victims, calm and motherly, unlike the pissed off snarl Emily gave, “You wanna tell us why you were arrested?”
“You two really gonna pull the good cop, bad cop on me?” She snapped, her lip swelling around the wound, tongue grazing it softly despite the heavy taste of the sanitizer.
Emily said her name in a warning, her last warning, and she knew better than to push her luck even more, the SUV pulling out of the station and onto the road. 
“I was just shopping for groceries,” She started, fiddling with the bloodied tissue, wincing under her tongue stroke, “Store clerk made a pass at me, I told him I wasn’t interested. So he put a pack of smokes in my handbag while I wasn’t looking; the alarms went off. I didn’t even know what was happening until security grabbed me at the door,” 
JJ flashed a glance at Emily, like two parents deciding an appropriate punishment, the brunette’s lips straightening out into a line. 
“You’re telling the truth?” She asked cautiously, glancing in the rear view mirror to see how her sister balled the mess of paper between her palms. 
Rolling her eyes, she gladly accepted the other packet of tissues Spencer slid over the leather seat between them. 
“I went out for milk and oranges, I was not looking to get picked up, Em,” She bit back, groaning when she felt it jostle the cut, “And certainly not for cigarettes, you know I only smoke on New Years,” 
Spencer looked at her with a frown, and she caught his confusion quickly, pulling another leaf of paper from the packet. 
“Emily and I had a rule after she caught me smoking when I was like fourteen, that we could have one cigarette between the two of us on New Years eve,” She explained, JJ also perking up to hear it, “So that by the time morning came around, it would be last year’s mistake, and it would be like it never happened,” 
JJ smiled to herself, remembering the time she caught Roz sneaking one of her dad’s cigarettes on the back porch back when she was just ten. She remembered the little secrets the two of them kept back then, held them even all these years later. 
“So how did that lead to, well,” JJ gestured to her lip, “That,” 
“Yeah, didn’t I specifically tell you to not antagonise anyone?” Emily chimed in, signalling she was changing lanes as they headed down the freeway for a second time that day.
“Technically you said not to antagonise the officers,” She pointed out, before Spencer had the chance to, shutting his mouth as he caught the glare Emily shot through the mirror.
“Keep talking,” The older Prentiss ordered, as Bugsy sighed and blotted her lip some more. 
“That woman, Mira I think her name was, anyway, she recognised me from that picture mom had us take on Independence Day, the one they put in The Hill, and she asked me if it was true my sister was a fed,” 
Emily’s fingers twitched at the wheel, knowing the status agents and even people associated with agents held in prisons; knowing just being a Prentiss in a jail cell held a big, dazzling price over her head that said ‘kill me, kill me!”
The air sucked out of the car, a look passing between JJ and Reid as they thought the same thing, waiting for her to go on. 
“So then you hit her?” Emily guessed, the bitterness slowly ebbing as she understood maybe her sister wasn’t as unruly as she thought. 
“No, I told her to leave me the fuck alone, but she said you guys sent her brother down for something a while back, and she asked again if my family were all Pigs,” She picked her nails, the blood stain on her sleeve staring back at her, “I told her if she didn’t stop calling you a Pig, I’d make her squeal like one. And then I hit her,” 
Emily tried to pretend she didn’t smile hearing that, her cheeks tightening, lips pulling down as she fended it off. 
“Is that good enough, officers, or will you be needing fingerprints?” The girl chimed after a moment, a weight seemingly lifted from the car as Emily quickly realised she had, for once, not been entirely at fault. 
“I want a handwritten apology to my boss for wasting his time,” Emily demanded, her unforgiving gaze softening when she saw her smile, “And you owe my team coffee,”
“I can do coffee, coffee coming right up,” She agreed, shoving the used tissues into her purse with a crooked smile, “It’s a date,”
Spencers ears turned red, looking over the seat at where she dabbed at her lip gently. She didn’t look much older for six months, but she had gotten her nose pierced since the last time he’d seen her, unless he just hadn’t noticed it before, and the streaks of red were slowly fading out into a blush pink that said it was old, and he wondered if she’d done it herself in that tiny little cubicle bathroom of hers she shared with the four other girls in her block. 
“You finished your stats papers yet?” He made polite conversation, though part of him was dying to know out of curiosity if she could crunch numbers and equations as well as she could in her own labs. 
“Got two more this week, they’re kicking my ass man,” She replied with a huff, and he didn’t think he’d ever been called ‘man’ by a woman before. He knew if he’d known her in college, ignoring the fact he would have been twelve, he would have thought she may just be the coolest person alive, “I miss my labs with my microscopes and watching all the little baby cells move around in the ethanol. Stats are like, just not sexy,” 
He smiled at her as she stared out the window, unaware of the way she’d managed to make DNA sound like a play pen full of kittens. He held off from telling her he found stats really quite sexy, knowing it would never sound the same coming from his mouth.
He pulled a leaf of the tissues from the packet, producing his own pen from his pocket and began doodling carefully so as not to rip the delicate canvas. 
Sliding it over to her after five minutes as Emily and JJ made conversation in the front seat, she didn’t care that the grin tugged on her split lip, the reaction was instant, she couldn’t stop it if she tried. 
Two stick men stared back at her, her hair a close match in texture and a childish triangle drawn as means of a dress, a very tall stick figure next to her patting her metaphorical head, a speech bubble coming from his mouth. 
“Maths is fun!” It said, and she flicked a glance at him, her smile the most genuine he’d seen yet. He just smiled back. 
+2. The one where you graduate
Emily felt the looks on her the moment JJ had mentioned Maryland. The case was a little under their pay grade, nothing more than a stalker, no bodies or bloodshed, but one very rattled woman that had turned to the communications liaison with fear for her life. 
With Hotch and Rossi in Boston helping a case of their own, the rest of the BAU had been twiddling their thumbs waiting for something to come across their desk. 
“This case is in my hands now, and if we do nothing and something happens to her,” JJ took a heavy breath, her eyes lingering on the three names Keri had given her in case of her untimely death, “I’ll be the one notifying her family,”
Derek, despite his own hesitations about using their time for a case like this, caved the moment he saw the guilt on the blonde’s face. 
“Okay,” He shuffled the papers into a pile, Emily and Spencer gathering their own resources on the case and standing from the round table. 
Luckily, one government SUV was more than enough to carry the four of them for the hour drive North, all of them well aware Hotch would flip if they used more funds than necessary.
JJ piled into the front beside where Morgan climbed into the driver’s seat, leaving Emily next to a particularly fidgety Reid. It took all of fifteen minutes of the man flicking a glance at her, his mouth quirking as if he were about to use it, before he thought better and looked out the window, and the whole thing would start again. 
Derek, the less shy about his thoughts of the two men, even glanced at her through the rear view mirror, before he too returned his gaze out the window silently. JJ shifted in her seat, knowing she had to tread carefully around mentioning Bugsy to Emily, particularly after the last time they’d seen her. Emily had said they’d grabbed coffee once or twice since then, but that was all she spoke about it, which left her team walking cracked eggshells at the thought of bringing her up. 
It seemed the three of them were bursting at the seams with the same thought, and it wasn’t until Reid cleared his voice, his puppy eyes stuck in his loop, that she had had enough. 
“Does anyone here have something to say?” Emily huffed, Derek immediately reaching to turn the radio up the same time that JJ flicked the AC on for something to do. Realising they weren’t easily broken, she turned to Spencer who already looked slightly guilty, thumbing at his sweater, “Reid?”
“Did you want to see your sister?” He asked without hesitation, as if the words had fallen out of him, “You know, since we’re so close on this case. It would be a good excuse to-”
“You did say she owed us a coffee,” JJ pointed out, spurred on by Spencer’s nerves, “Wouldn’t mind cashing in if we’re coming all this way.”
“Morgan, do you have anything to add?” Emily asked with raised brows, though she already knew what was coming.
Derek chewed over his thoughts a second, “I’m just saying, you only get to see your baby sisters grow up once- you know, and it couldn’t hurt to see her even if she runs rings around you with that smart mouth-”
“Shouldn’t we be focusing on the case?” Emily cut him off incredulously, but received three knowing looks back. She met JJ’s gaze where the woman had swivelled in her seat to talk to her, and Prentiss was fast to catch the buried grief in her best friend’s eyes. She knew it pained her to even bring up sisterhood, let alone watch Emily throw hers away for the sake of a decade and a half between them. It was the desperation in JJ’s face that did it, knowing she would give anything to spend just an hour with Roz one more time, that had her drawing her cell out her pocket and calling the contact with the little ladybug next to it, “Fine,”
As a profiler she would have been tempted to ignore the way Spencer smiled into his lap; as a sister, her eyes narrowed at him.
The phone rang surprisingly only once before she answered, and she heard an unnaturally tame version of her sister answer.
“Emily?” She asked, her voice hushed, worried almost, “You okay?”
Her brows furrowed, “Yeah, I’m fine. Are you?” She got no more than a hum in return, somewhat agreeing though Emily could tell clear as day she was holding something back. “Look, we’re gonna be in Silver Spring, I was thinking tomorrow we could grab lunch-” 
“Can’t, I’m busy, it’s an all day thing,” Her sister cut her off, yet it wasn’t rude or demeaning like usual. Nervous almost, sad, “Sorry,”
“What’s an all day thing?” Emily asked, the concern matching her words. 
Her sister swallowed on the other end of the phone, before she found her words, or maybe even the balls to actually speak, “I’m graduating tomorrow,”
Emily’s face lit up, the smile spreading fast on her face, ignoring the way Morgan’s words seemed to ring true in her ears; she was growing up too fast. 
“Graduating, why didn’t you say!” She asked, the joy in her tone unmissable, “How’d your papers go?”
Spencer held himself off from correcting her that she’d only done five papers, that the rest of her results had come from theory and labs, thinking better than to interrupt the one conversation they’d had where there was no underlying argument brewing. 
“Full honours, obviously.” Bugsy drawled with a snicker, and Emily shook her head, the smile never dimming. 
“Look at you, y’little superstar,” Emily bit her lip, ignoring the guilt that tore at her when she realised she barely knew what Bug spent her days doing, “Did Mom and Dad get good seats? Oh god, dad’s not bringing Stephanie is he?”
The silence on the other end had her halting, the light in the conversation wavering for a second, before she understood the nerves, the quick defence her sister had been on the moment the call had been answered. 
“Bug-”
“They’re not coming,” Her heart ached in her chest hearing it, “I sent Mom the details, she said she’s in Ukraine this week settling some papers. Didn’t even get a chance to ask Dad before he and Stephanie were off on their fifth honeymoon in the Bahamas until October,” A painful laugh echoed down the line, as if she were holding back the gravity of the situation. 
“Bug,” Emily tried again, picking her thumb viciously, punishingly, hating herself for being so blind to her sister’s troubles, “Why didn’t you invite me?”
“I figured you’d be busy,” Came the reply, sad and tender, the most honest she’d heard in a while, “You’re always busy,” 
“Never too busy for you,” Emily’s guilt tripled when her sister didn’t answer, knowing if she were to counter the statement with hard evidence it would only hurt both of them, “Look, I have some time today, probably,” She didn’t, not even a few minutes, “Why don’t we get that coffee, you don’t even have to pay,”
Bugsy gave a sad laugh, “Sorry, Em, I gotta get my dress fitted today, and some of the lab techs invited me to a party later. Maybe some other time,”
“A party with biology nerds?” Emily asked with false excitement, the air turned stagnant between them now, “Well, rock on, science freak. Don’t leave your drinks with strangers, and don’t walk home alone, and for god sake use protection-”
“Bye, Emily,” She said with a chuckle, the older of the two gracing her with the same, as they put the phone down. 
The car was quiet, waiting for Prentiss to speak, none of them missing the way her lip pulled between her teeth, a bitterness on her face that told them she was holding in something close to sadness. You’re always busy. It echoed around her head, stabbing at her chest to think her sister was graduating alone, no one to congratulate her, no one to pat her on the back and tell her how clever she is despite the fact Bugsy would happily tell anyone just how smart she was on her own. Never too busy for you. 
“She’s graduating tomorrow,” She said to the three people waiting for an update, Spencer’s brows shooting to his hairline. He hadn’t heard from her since her last paper got sent off, and why would he? They had exchanged a few little anecdotes and doodles, sent each other research papers to be graded like teachers exchanging lecture notes, “She didn’t even tell me. She’s gonna be alone,” 
JJ grimaced, “What? What about your mom- or, or your dad, an uncle, someone-” 
“Mom and dad are out of the country, Mom’s brother lives in Mexico with his seven kids, he can barely get a night’s sleep let alone a day off to travel up to Maryland. Dad’s sisters passed away when I was a kid,” Emily explained, running a hand over her face, “I can’t let her go up there alone,”
“So we don’t,” Spencer said, as if he’d never been more sure of anything in his life, “We don’t let her do it alone,”
-
“Graduating with Masters in Biotechnology; Jasper Adams, Tom Adamson, Kristen Afkins, Gavin Agriths-” 
The dean read off the names of the students as she fiddled with the hem of her dress. 
The dress fit beautifully, her make up done to near perfection, her hair styled neatly, she was graduating with full honours for christ sakes. Why couldn’t she just be happy with what she had? Why had she got to be so spoiled? 
Lots of peoples parents missed their graduation, lots of people her age didn’t even have parents anymore, she ought to be grateful her mother was increasing famine aid in foreign countries, all the lives she would save, or even be happy her father had found a pretty, rich new wife to tour every known vacation destination with. Or even that her sister had called her just yesterday and told her in a few words she was proud of her. 
But none of them quelled the feeling of loneliness that blossomed inside Bugsy. The kind that had always been there, the kind that just wanted someone in her corner, telling her she was doing pretty good for a kid who raised herself in all those big houses they’d moved to, who saw the au pair more often than her own mother. 
All those rooms were so empty, the houses so quiet besides for her. It was like living in a cemetery. 
“Robert Lewsinsky. Marcus Linford. Tara Lorence. Katie Macauley.” 
P would be up soon. Each name of her classmates drew an applause, some whoops and screams, one family she swore there must have been ten of them in the back row cawing and howling like monkeys at a zoo, proud of their son for making it. 
She willed a smile on her face, hearing Orla Parkins get called up, and she knew just by the steward that directed her where to stand in line she was close. 
“Kenneth Patterson. Joshua Perriman. Harriet Pimms. Lauren Pintons.”
She held a rattled breath as Renly Prackett walked ahead of her, strolling over the stage to collect his degree, flashing the crowd a wide smile and a fist pump. She had always liked Renly, having been his experiment partner for a year, despite the fact he never washed up after himself in the lab. 
Then it was, her name was called. The one no one but her mother and Stephanie ever called her, she solely went by Bugsy courtesy of Emily. It was a family name, a nice one at that. Maybe it had been the fact she had been eight and her cool big sister crowned her the new name, or maybe it just rolled off the tongue better, made her feel less like a Prentiss, that she chose to go by her monika. 
She tried not to think about where or what Emily was doing, only hoping she was safe, as she began walking over the stage, her heels clicking loudly with her hesitant steps. 
To her utmost surprise she heard a loud whistle echo through the auditorium, a group of jeers and screams of her name, even an air horn signing off that had her almost tripping over her own feet turning to see who it was. 
Surely it was a joke, a cruel prank, she barely had any friends in her class. Acquaintances sure, but no one so bold as to make such a fuss over her. 
Squinting down at the audience, her cap nearly slipping off her head as her head turned to the source, she felt her chest burst when she saw the dark hair and bangs, her sisters butchered fingertips in her mouth with a loud cattle whistle, screaming like a firework right to the stage where she graciously accepted her award, despite the fact she barely paid any attention to the dean anymore, more to her sister who smiled at her widely as she clapped. Behind her, her team she’d met on the off chance, the pretty blonde, JJ, who pressed the air horn a few more times, cheering just as loud for her. Morgan, the handsome one who had stood himself on top of his chair, cupping a hand over his mouth to scream “Kicking ass, baby Prentiss!” at her, ignoring the way other people stared wide eyed at them. 
And Spencer, tall enough to be seen over the crowd even without the help of a chair, who smiled at her, clapping those big hands of his loud enough to reach her, his own whoops never ceasing even as she stepped off the stage to head back to her seat. 
The rest of the ceremony dragged, a speech from one of the alumni and the exit music playing, but she simply grinned into her hand, where her degree smiled back at her, counting down the moments she would be allowed to stand. 
And then she was fast walking down the stairs, amongst the bustle of students, the black gowns flurrying around her as she burst out into the square where parents, fiancees, brothers, sisters, cheered their loved ones, pulling them into tight hugs. 
Her eyes scanned the wave of black hats, landing on two dark eyes, the thick sable hair framing the dazzling smile that awaited her with open palms. All but shoving her way through the crowd, she stopped in front of her sister, the urge to jump at her with a hug shying the moment she got close. 
“Told you. Never too busy for you, Bug,” Emily said, pulling her in by her shoulders for a tight hug. She knew her sister wasn’t one to beg for affection, wasn’t one to let her guard drop so soon, but she also knew she’d needed it by the way she melted against her, the way she chuckled into her hair, pulled her closer. 
“Do I owe your boss another letter of apology for this or do I get you guys for free?” The girl asked, as her sister pulled away, keeping an arm around her shoulder as they turned to the rest of the team. 
“No, this one is entirely on us, promise,” JJ said with a smile as she saw Emily beaming maternally over at the girl, the flat of the cap knocking against her cheek as she squeezed her in once more, “We’re very proud of you,” 
She heated under the woman’s words, wriggling in her shoes as bad as Emily did when she felt awkward, Derek chuckling and taking the degree out of her hand. 
“Alright, lets see the creds, Prentiss,” He held it up next to her face as she shrugged, the ‘4.0’ clear as day next to her name, “Good looking, and smart. Those boys in the lab ought to watch out,”
She grinned under his teasing, “What can I say, I got the deep end of the gene pool,” She teased, feeling Emily swat her ear, her eyes falling to where Spencer held a plant pot with a poorly wrapped bow of twine around it, the soil a little displaced from the journey.
“This is for you,” He said, handing her the small green sproutling, his cheeks blushing as her face lit up, reading the small inscription on the front, “It’s-”
“Dionaea muscipula,” She said, biting her lip as she smiled at him, “This is so cool! Where on earth did- I had a paper last semester on the ways to study their electrophysiology you just have to read- oh thank you!”
“English, please?” Emily asked, though the warmth flooded her chest when her sister threw her arms around a very rigid Spencer. 
Thinking she should grab her and warn her the man disliked touch almost as much as she does, she was surprised to see him give her a small embrace back, smiling proudly the way he did when he’d made someone happy. 
“Piège à mouches Vénus,” Her sister responded cockily, tugging herself away from the tall man, to inspect her new plant, well aware that Emily rolled her eyes at her use of French, “Venus Fly Trap. I’ve never seen one so young, still I should be able to pull some slides on the Rhizomes in the soil-”
Emily put a hand to her temple, JJ smiling widely as she saw for once Spencer be the one on the receiving end of an earful, chuckling to himself when she began dishing out name ideas for the sapling. 
“Holy shit, there’s two of them,” Morgan grumbled, nudging his shoulder into Emily who simply sighed, her migraine already starting as Reid began jumping in with his own thoughts, which didn’t take much effort.
“Don’t even,” 
+3. The one where you’re taken hostage
“Tell us about the 911 call,” Spencer requests, flicking through the file himself beside her in the back seat. She had her own set of paperwork in front of her, her pen attached to a clipboard the lanyard around her neck reading her real, honest credentials, unlike the fake ones Emily and Reid were given. She’d been to one of these sects before, invited kindly as part of her research on the effect isolation has on cultivation of crops, knew one of the mother’s well from her last research paper, and had managed to get the group a foot in the door to entering the Separtarian Sect with little fuss. 
Hotch, usually hesitant to allow outsiders in on the job, especially as young and spirited as Bugsy, had to admit it would calm any potential unsubs and make them see the team as unthreatening if they had a friendly face there. He’d signed the papers with a frown that morning, and they were on their way to the little apartment the girl occupied just outside Baltimore, sample tubes stuffed into her pack ready. 
“I believe the he that they refer to is the church’s leader, Benjamin Cyrus,” Nancy, a woman from child protective services, replied from the driver's seat, Emily thumbing through her papers as they neared the compound. 
“Benjamin Cyrus, no criminal record; no record of him at all actually,” Reid replied, watching Bugsy scribbling notes into her lab book, perfecting her report before she had even begun, “What else do you know about him?” 
“The sect I spoke to before, the one in Utah, said he was rumoured to be practising polygamy and forced marriages,” The younger woman said, looking back at him with a frown, “They were much more modern in their beliefs than these guys. Last time I spoke to Marina she was happy there, I can’t see why she would want to move here,” 
Spencer looked as if he were about to answer, perhaps to tell her he was sure her contact would be just fine, when Emily shrugged and turned to Nancy. 
“Do we know who the caller is?” She asked, sipping her now lukewarm coffee out of the disposable cup. 
Nancy’s head tilted in a so-so motion, “Uh, Jessica Evansen is the one who the age fits, but we can’t be sure.”
“Well given their view on outsiders, it would be best if you didn’t identify us as FBI.” Emily instructed, handing Reid his new, fake credentials and his gun she’d kept in her bag through customs. “Just use our real names and introduce us as child victim interview experts.” Nancy nodded, the compound coming into view, the dust flurrying under the car wheels as the road turned into nothing more than a sandy path. 
A guard seemed to be expecting their arrival as he stood, unarmed at the main gate, unlatching the bolt in the middle and opening it wide for their vehicle to pass through. She nodded in thanks, her eyes flicking out the dirty window to see a collection of mobile homes surrounding a large church, a few smaller outbuildings dotted around the compound. It was quiet, not full of laughter like the last group she had been to, the children nowhere to be seen, only a few of the handier members of the flock that were either fixing up walls, trimming trees besides a man sprawled too casually on the steps of the chapel, a bible in his hands he seemed to be catching up on. 
The car pulled to a stop in front of the man that barely batted an eye at their arrival, the safety locks flicking off each of the doors, Nancy collecting her briefcase and exiting the car first. 
She had all but reached for the handle when Emily stopped her, swivelling in her seat to look her dead in the eye. 
“Your job is mediator, you got that?” Her sister had never looked more serious, but then again she did know her almost too well, “You and your field research are a… buffer between our investigation and the unsub. Just try to take the focus off what we’re doing, but do not provoke anyone,”
She raised her hands in innocence, “Got it, jeez, what could I possibly do that could ruin this investigation?” 
Emily stared back at her blankly, unnamused, as if they both knew there was a lot she could, and would, do that would blow the whole thing. 
“You look like mom when you give me that look,” She bit back, leaving the car, as Nancy spoke to the man laying on the steps, “It’s terrible,” 
“I’m looking for Mr Benjamin Cyrus?” Nancy reported, her tight, knee length skirt and blouse entirely out of place amongst the dirt track. 
“You found him,” The man replied, still not so much as granting them a glance of interest as he flicked through his passages. 
“I’m Nancy Lunde, we spoke on the phone regarding the allegation,” She replied, which was the only thing that garnered his attention as he looked up at them behind slightly bent reading glasses. 
“Savages they call us; because our manners differ from theirs,” He said, though it was clear it wasn’t entirely his own words, more likely a segment of his preach he’d repeated a handful of times. Bugsy tried to hide her disgust behind her hand tightening around her lab books she kept tightly to her chest. 
“We didn’t come here to hear you cite scripture, Mr Cyrus,” Nancy snipped as he approached the group, pocketing the glasses though he kept hold of the bible in hand as if it was part of his own arm. 
“Actually it’s Benjamin Franklin,” Spencer murmured to the woman, which had Cyrus’ cold brown eyes narrowing at the tall man, assessing for a motive.
“Emily Prentiss, Spencer Reid. They’re child victim interview experts,” Nancy introduced them quickly, the two of them flashing their badges, the unofficial ones at least. Gesturing to the youngest woman, she introduced her with her real name, his gaze flicking to her as he seemed to recognise it.
“Marina’s friend? The plant lady?” He asked, face half amused as she fought her lip from twitching into a sneer. Instead she smiled, holding out her hand. 
“That’s what they call me,” She said, shaking his hand, ignoring the way he flashed her a cheshire cat smile, “Hope you don’t mind me dropping by, Marina said I could take some samples for my research,”
He laughed, shaking his head, looking at Spencer, “Women and their flowers, right?” Spencer swallowed back a retort, shrugging his shoulders, though Bugsy’s eye twitched. Benjamin patted her on her shoulder, “Of course you can honey, I’ll find Jared, our head gardner, and you can run along for your research,” 
He said it as if she were lying, that her degree and endless hours of work would only ever chalk up to a few doodles in a notebook, or a garden full of hydrangeas, or tulips, or roses, because she couldn’t possibly care about anything else but pretty flowers. 
Nodding her head graciously, choking back the hateful response she wished to spit in his face, she gave him a polite thankyou, feeling Spencer’s eyes burning into the side of her head. 
“The children are in the school as I indicated,” Cyrus said, turning back to the other three, Emily and Nancy taking off in the direction he pointed, the former knowing her sister was at risk of blowing a fuse if they were here for long. 
Spencer hung back, partially because he had a plan of distraction in mind to allow the women a chance to speak with the children whilst Cyrus wasn’t around, partially because he didn’t want to leave Bugsy anywhere on her own. Sure, Emily had said they were both trained in self defence when they were kids, but with no weapon of her own, he was reluctant. 
“You're using solar power?” He prompted, gesturing towards where the eight blue panels warmed under the Colorado sun.
“We’re completely self-sufficient,” Benjamin nodded along, catching the impressed look on both their faces, “Electricity, food, water. Ben Franklin said ‘God helps those that help themselves,’ you look surprised,” 
“No, impressed actually,” Spencer replied, and he wasn’t entirely lying. The system was incredibly complex, particularly if they received no help from outsiders, for as many people as there were in the compound. 
“Thankyou; for admitting that,” Cyrus said earnestly, flicking his gaze back to Bugsy who studied the solar panels, “I’ll go find Jared, he can take you to the greenhouses,”
Thanking him again, he led the way towards the school where Nancy and Emily had headed, as the two of them exchanged a look, Spencer smiling half piteously, wishing he could shake her and tell her just how smart she was and that Cyrus knew absolutely nothing. 
He didn’t miss the way she walked closer to him, or how she thumbed the corner of her notebook, or how she looked back at him, biting the inside of her cheek. He thinks he might get slapped if he pointed it out, but Emily had the exact same tell when she was nervous, which is why he bumps their shoulders together in means of reassuring her he was still there. 
It was only then she gave him any sort of smile back. 
-
Jared, as expected, had been just as condescending and patronising as Benjamin whilst she slipped on her latex gloves, scooping no more than a handful of homemade fertiliser into one of her test tubes. It had been a partial cover, their story, but she had been telling the truth when she’d contacted Marina and asked if she could drop by. She’d been meaning to expand her field research in hopes of stumbling on a job opportunity since she spent most of her postgraduate days reading while her cat pawed at her leg for more treats than he deserved, the odd phone call with her sister much more common than it had been before. 
She didn’t miss the way Jared’s hand fell into the small of her back as he led her back towards the school, after having noted down a few more readings, fussing over the state of the carrots that seemed to grow entirely naturally thanks to the systems they’d been smart enough to set up. He seemed rather bored by the whole thing, for a head gardener, more interested in staring at her legs as she leaned down to identify the fat black beetle that crawled along the rockery. 
It wasn’t until they were halfway to the school that the sound of tyres on a dirt path met her ears, and she saw five armoured SUVs out the corner of her eye. 
She hadn’t even the time to question what was going on, before Jared’s face dropped, the hand gently holding the soft of her back grabbing on her forearm hard enough to leave bruises, as he was dragging her to the chapel they had seen when they had pulled up.
 Emily had said the rest of the team stayed in Quantico, if it wasn’t them, who was it. 
“Whats going on- who is that?” She asked him lamely, her feet stumbling as she half fought his heavy hand off. 
That was when the shooting started. 
She thinks it came from the compound first, she’d seen two men stationed on top of one of the outbuildings, thinking nothing much of it, until she saw clearly now the assault rifles they bore, pointing it straight at the vehicles that drew closer. The whistle of bullets, bangs of the chambers emptying their artillery, and it wasn’t until she heard the doors to the SUVs start opening, more gunfire began hitting the wall ahead of them that she started running. Running fast, for the cover the church provided until she figured out just what the fuck was happening. 
Jared all but threw her past the chapel door, where Cyrus and four other men were waiting, a heavy barricade in their hands, her chest pounding with adrenaline, she couldn’t help the yelp that left her as Cyrus whirled on her, grabbing her shoulders firmly and looking her dead in the eye. 
“Did you know anything about this?” He asked, his calm demeanour cracking when she scrambled for a response, “ANSWER ME,”
“No-no not at all.” She shook her head, voice weaker than she’d like, but the sight of more guns in the men’s hands twisted any resolve she had, “Where are the others- the- the experts-”
“Take her into the tunnels,” Cyrus ignored her question, nodding at one of his men to grab her as Jared armed himself. She felt another callused hand yank on her upper arm, and part of her wondered if that was how men handled all women here, as if they were herding cattle, as she was dragged down into the catacombs below the church. 
They’d made plans for a day like this to come, she realised. 
Her heart constricted at the sound of bullets rattling above them, she hadn't been able to tell in that last moment whether Cyrus believed her or not as, nor whether she was being taken to the tunnels for her own safety or to be questioned harder about the gunmen. 
She could only hope Emily was safe. 
She felt her tongue too big for her mouth as the man all but shoved her into the bunker, the nervous chatter of women and children, some of the more elderly men, as they clung to one another for safety, the scathing remark she would have usually made about his heavy hands failing her as she scanned the room for her sister. 
Emily was faster however, and she nearly yelped again as two bony arms yanked her into a hug, a rare one, and she knew by the blazer and the sigh of relief in her ear it was Em.
Usually she would bat her off, tell her to stop fussing like a mother hen, but today she embraced her right back, trying to note if her sister had any bullet holes in her before she allowed herself the same relief. 
“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Emily asked, the whole thing coming out in a slew of worry, and she nodded, pulling away as if she needed to see the proof in person. 
Bugsy’s eyes were wild, as if she were a doe in a meadow hearing a rifle cocking near. No scratch that, she was a doe being chased and shot at and hunted, narrowly escaping being mounted on a wall. 
“They were all shit shots,” Bugsy said, through a laugh she didn’t quite mean, “You would have done much better.” 
Patting her sister on the shoulder, Emily finally released her when she realised the humour meant she at least had her head on her shoulders. Spencer watched her with meticulous eyes, knowing the shock that registered on her face, knowing it was the same one he wore when he first had shots fired at him. He saw her own eyes quickly check him over, satisfied with a breath of relief when she saw they were both fine. 
“Where’s Lunde?” Emily asked, and she realised then Cyrus had followed her down into the shelter, two of his men grabbing handfuls of guns she had never seen before, likely imported out of country, and returning to the ground level, preparing for more shooting. 
“It wasn’t us,” Cyrus replied, as if that negated the fact their recklessness had gotten the agent killed. 
“What? You can’t shoot it out with the cops, you have children in here,” Emily seethed, her voice harsh and incredulous.
“I didn’t start this,” Cyrus bit back, looking towards his men as they grabbed boxes on boxes of ammunition, “I’ll take the front, you take the roof,” 
And with that they stormed their way back through the tunnels, leaving the three of them to look between each other, knowing this could only end badly. Knowing the only people that could figure out how to get them out of this mess was the BAU, all 1,700 miles away. 
They’d been in the bunker for fourteen hours when there was finally movement. The shooting seemed to have quietened down, in which Spencer whispered it was around 11pm and it was likely neither party had a clear shot. She’d managed to fall asleep leaning against the wall, Emily’s blazer draped over her legs. She’d regretted wearing cropped pants, despite how the shade of green complimented her eyes nicely, and she’d been shivering by the time she fell asleep, Emily’s hands stroking her hair gently as if she knew she was struggling to relax. 
She hadn’t realised she was staring at her little sister, frowning even as she slept, which made part of her want to laugh, until she caught Spencer’s tired eyes looking between them, something knowing and warm in his gaze. 
“You know, she’s always scowled in her sleep, ever since she was born,” Emily said, quiet enough it didn’t interrupt the hum of small snores, the odd baby cry that filled the bunker, but loud enough for him to smile at her, “She used to sleep walk terrible too. I’d find her in the kitchen trying to make pancakes with a cheese grater. It’s like that big brain of hers doesn’t know how to shut off,” Emily shook her head with a fatigue, rubbing her eyes. 
“Was it weird? Being fourteen years older?” Spencer asked, his own hands shoved into his sleeves to try defend from the draught. Emily thought for a moment, her hand slowing for a second on her sister's hair, before she answered. 
“I felt guilty leaving her in that house with my mom when I went to college,” Emily answered, Bugsy unconsciously tucking her face closer into the jacket, “I think part of her kind of hated me for it for a while.” She went quiet, the shame in her voice thick as the silence that encompassed them, “She’s never been very affectionate you know? Before her graduation I don’t think I’d hugged her in twelve years,”
Spencer held himself back from pointing out that she had been just as touchy with him since they’d met, and that maybe it was Emily’s own regret that seemed to shut the both of them down. He wasn’t one to rub salt in the wound, not since he’d gotten this job and learned to watch what he said. 
He didn’t know what to say, didn’t want to give her advice, knowing the whole subject of their slowly repairing relationship was a sore one. He had no siblings of his own, had a mother who loved him despite how much she grappled with her own mind, and he had only known the girl briefly enough to consider her a friend at a push. 
“I always thought the two of you were similar,” Emily chose to continue, offering him a small smile. He returned it, his face blushing at the fact that was a huge compliment to him, “Granted, you roll your eyes at me less and don’t act like I’m dumb, but you remind me of her,” 
“Thankyou, I wish that were true,” He replied, eyes flicking to her sleeping form, the way her eyebrows were indeed scrunched in a permanent frown. He wondered if she was actually angry, or if she was just thinking hard, perhaps her dreams were full of equations or labs she needed to sort through. Either way, he wanted to know. “She’s much cooler than I’ll ever be,” 
Emily snorted, shuffling against the wall to cosy herself, “That’s one way to put it,” She said, smiling over at him as he did the same, his head resting against the wall, Bugsy’s legs stretching out to knock against his feet, and he didn’t mind that she scuffed the bottom of his already dirty trousers. “Get some sleep,”
And so they did. 
Cyrus had corralled the whole flock into the church, where the shooting had stopped and the bodies had been removed, stating at the break of dawn that there was a hostage negotiator coming in to make sure everyone was safe before they made any deals. 
She sat next to Spencer, the three of them stiff from their sleeping arrangements, and her stomach churned with hunger. It had been over 24 hours since they’d gotten here, and besides the small bit of bread and water Cyrus gave everyone for breakfast, she was starving. 
“Remind me to never leave the house, ever again,” She grumbled, as everyone waited in the pews for the negotiator to arrive, “My cat is gonna be pissed I’ve not fed him,” 
“Since when did you get a cat?” Emily inputted from the other side of Reid, keeping one eye on the door in case any agents start shooting again. 
The girl shrugged, “I got lonely, there’s not much to do now I’m not studying anymore,” 
Reid watched how she clutched her stomach, feeling his own complaining at the lack of nutrition, “Morgan wasn’t lying when he said you should sign up for the academy. We could always use the help, we wouldn’t have solved that case in Baltimore without you,” 
She snickered, nudging his foot with her boot, “You’re being modest, you would have done it just fine,”
He was a little, wasn’t surprised she called his bluff either. “Okay, so probably yes- but it would have taken us a whole lot longer. Mr Chernus likely would have died,” 
She shook her head, glancing at Emily who watched her carefully, “That was all you guys. I just translated.”
Emily and Spencer exchanged a glance, leaning back in their uncomfortable seats calmly. 
“You’re probably right,” Spencer said, dusting the dirt off his trousers, “Probably couldn’t handle it, high intensity mind games and such,”
She blanched, looking at him as if he’d grown a second head, not knowing him to be so brutally honest, realistic yes, but not bordering on rude. 
“And it’s a lot of work,” Emily jumped in, her mouth a straight line, “I don’t know if you’d be dedicated enough,”
Bugsy scoffed, indifferently. “I have a masters degree, I was offered a scholarship to do a PHD, asked to be an assistant professor at Yale, I can work hard, Emily,” She snipped, and perhaps she was particularly just hangry or they had struck a nerve with their doubt, “and I could do it if I wanted to, I’d have the best shot they’d ever seen, guaranteed- mom made me take lessons when you left- trust me I could do it-”
She shut up when she saw their small smile exchanged, as if she’d told them a joke, or moreso they’d had the same identical thought and that alone was hilarious. 
Scowling at them, she looked from where Spencer looked almost, almost, guilty at making her the butt of the joke, to where Emily had a ‘told you so’ smirk, and she kissed her teeth at their childishness. 
“Are you guys reverse psychology-ing me? Seriously, so original guys,” She snapped, crossing her arms and straightening herself in her seat, ignoring the snigger that passed between them. 
“You’re not wrong though,” Emily replied quietly as Cyrus walked past them, his eyes falling to them with a frown. Bugsy kept her head down, heeding Emily’s warning of not provoking anyone, and Spencer eyed the way she leaned closer to him.
If she was going to retaliate, whether agreeing or not, she stopped herself, the doors the church opening and an older gentleman walking through the doors, arms full of supplies she’d figured must have been part of the negotiation. He was patted down by an armed guard, searching for his own weapons do doubt, or a wire perhaps, as he handed the box over to another who took it without a thankyou. 
“Rossi,” She heard Reid whisper beside her, and from the look he shot Emily and Spencer she gathered he was from the BAU, just as they’d expected. His eyes fell on her, softening as alot of Emily’s team did when they saw the two of them, as if they were picking her face apart for the tiny ways in which she resembled their Prentiss, or maybe it was the way she curled up in her seat, tired, hungry, on the defence. He just looked sorry for her. 
 “The children,” Cyrus said with no greeting, the air between them particularly frosty. He gestured towards the three of them, though Rossi had already clocked their tired faces staring at him with worry, “And our guests,”
She saw him trying not to react, guessing they had not let it slip to Cyrus he worked with the two undercover FBI agents, looking away from them as if the sight of their forlorn figures was enough to turn him sick. 
Judging by the way Cyrus and he spoke quietly, tensely, Bugsy just hoped they had a plan to get them out of here soon as he soon left with a rigid handshake to the man keeping them hostage. 
The three of them had been moved to a backroom a few hours later. Her stomach ached, the little sustenance Rossi had brought being distributed to the community before they’d been offered anything, which hadn’t left much. Reid and Emily had tried to get her to take some of their sharing, and despite how her insides cried out for it, she declined, stating they would be more use than she would; that they needed their strength more than her if they were going to get out of here alive. 
The two of them hadn’t liked that answer judging by the frowns on their faces, but they sat in their seats with little fuss as they waited for things to quieten down after Cyrus’ staged “mass suicide” that had turned out to be nothign more than a test of loyalty and grape juice. 
They had been sat in silence, aside from her foot bouncing on the floor impatiently, as she picked at the threads on her pants, the material uncomfortable on her skin after a day of wearing it. The door slammed open, Cyrus entering the room with nasty scowl. She didn’t know what had changed in the man in a matter of hours as he stormed over to them, two of his men behind him, loaded rifles in their arms. 
This was not good. 
“Which one of you is it?” He asked almost too calm for his demeanour, his eyes flicking between the three of them, where Emily attempted to brush her hair using her fingers, Reid played with the hem of his cardigan, an she sat beside him, resting against the cold stone wall behind them, her eyes narrowing at his furious expression. 
The three of them remained silent, waiting for him to explain more, though clearly it was not the answer he was looking for as he threw his jacket open, revealing a loaded pistol tucked into his jeans. Drawing it into his dominant hand, her body tensed up, her back straightening like a rod as she looked up at him through fear. 
“Which one of you is the FBI agent?” He repeated in that same calm tone, and her heart fell through her stomach. 
She opened her mouth to say something in retaliation, though the way she saw his hand shaking with fury, she knew it was better to stay quiet in case her voice would be the final straw that made him trigger happy. 
“Why do you think one of us is an FBI agent?” Spencer replied softly, and if he was panicking even a fraction amount she was he held it back, though his eyes flicked to Emily. 
But it was a tell. The smallest movement alone was a tell he was lying, or perhaps it was the fact he’d answered a question with one of his own, distracting from the attention on them with the unsubs own answers. Maybe his quiet and calm showed how trained he was for a situation like this, showed he had gone up against bad guys before and won. 
Whatever it was about him, it had Cyrus cocking the barrel of the gun straight at Spencer’s temple. 
“God forgive me for what I must do,” The preacher murmured, his finger moments away from the trigger, when she lurched forward in her seat, hand shooting out to grab his wrist deathly tight. 
“It’s me,” 
She hadn’t realised she’d said it until the room went quiet. She thought for a moment it had come from Emily, Emily had always been the braver of the two of them, but it wasn’t until Cyrus’ unforgiving, dark gaze fell to her where she froze in her spot, that she understood her mouth had been the one moving. 
Emily looked as if she was about to vomit, Spencer looked dumbfounded, but all she could do was stare back at Cyrus as if to will herself not to back down, knowing all three of them could fall victim if she gave them reason to doubt her; he could kill all three of them just to be sure the mystery agent was dealt with.
“It’s me,” She repeated, voice stronger this time, and she felt her chest relax just the tiniest amount as he turned the gun away from Spencer’s head. 
He stared back at her for a moment, before the weapon smacked across her face in a sharp whip, her cheekbone crying out in a sting she knew was going to bruise. 
He grabbed her hair at the nape of her neck, yanking her into a stand hard enough she yelped, despite not wanting to give him the satisfaction of the torture. 
“Watch the other two,” Cyrus barked, dragging her out of the room as she squirmed under his hand, feeling it only tighten into an unforgiving pull. 
She barely caught Emily bolting out of her seat to yell at the other men, all but fighting in their heavy grasp to follow wherever it was he was taking her, only for the door to be slammed shut behind them. 
It was only then she realised how fucked she truly was. 
She struggled to breath through the blood clotting in her nose. She didn’t think it was broken, not that she could check where her hands had been tied to the bedpost, tape over her mouth to stop her calling for help, her feet bound. She’d done nothing but give him hell as he’d been laying into her, keeping her cries and groans of pain silent as he’d kicked her in the ribs hard enough to know he’d damaged something at least. 
She’d not made it easy for him to tie her down, worried about what they were planning next, she’d managed to headbutt him in the mouth, and the way he clutched at his jaw when he’d left gave her a sick satisfaction, though her temple now hurt more than she’d like to admit. But they’d only covered her mouth after she’d screamed obscenities at them for an hour or so, hoping to attract attention, hoping if the BAU were on their way, Emily and Reid would be able to find her fast before they could dispose of her. 
Bugsy didn’t want to go like this. Tied up like cattle, gagged and beaten, the spirit kicked out of her as the dehydration gnawed at her limbs, making her too weak to even try wriggling out of the binds. 
She felt herself dropping off to sleep, or maybe it was a concussion, he’d slammed her face into that mirror quite viciously, she wouldn’t be surprised if it had rattled her head around. Fighting with her eyelids to stay open, she jumped in her battered skin as the door unlatched, and she thrashed on the rickety bed to get away from the impending second beating. 
But it wasn’t Cyrus. A fawn haired woman entered, her eyes falling on the girl on the bed, where blood trickled down her cheek, pouring from her nose like a thick liquor. Frowning, she was on high alert as the woman approached, a small, damp cloth in her hand. 
“Relax, I’m not going to hurt you honey,” She hushed, approaching the young girl. Bugsy didn’t believe her for one second, her head pulling away from her as far as it could, her eyes wild and distrustful as the woman kneeled down beside the bed. “I’m Kathy,”
Bugsy debated jabbing an elbow in her face then and there, telling her in few words to stay as far away from her as possible, that the moment she was free she didn’t care who she hurt; she was getting out of here even if she had to crawl. 
“That woman’s your sister right?” The blonde said, and the words stopped her heart for a moment, giving the woman the chance to run the cloth over the dribble of blood, “Emily,”
“Where is she?” She tried to ask, but the gag made it little more than a muffled cry, the woman’s eyes turning down in sadness. Pity. Bugsy hated every second of it.
“She’s okay, she’s worried about you though,” Kathy said, wiping under her nose, making her wince at the feeling, “Put up a hell of a fight after they took you away,” 
She must have rolled her eyes, or perhaps it was just telling on her face that that didn’t surprise her as the older woman wiped over the superficial cut on her forehead she hadn’t realised was deep until the cloth went over it and she yawped like a dog having it’s tail pulled. 
“Sorry, I’m sorry,” Kathy cooed, and she seemed genuinely guilty as she did. She tutted, shaking her head, fighting the urge to smooth the girls hair down the way she did when her own daughter was upset, “Emily said they’ll be coming for us at 3am, Cyrus has a mass suicide planned but they think they can stop him, you just have to hold on a little longer honey,” 
“I want to see her,” Bugsy tried to talk again despite her mouth being covered, only for it to come out unintelligible once more. Huffing, she resigned herself to glaring at the ceiling, biting back frustrated tears. Kathy seemed to want to say something else, but thought better of it as the twenty something year old turned away from her to stare out the window, as if she were being dismissed. 
Sighing, she rose from the bed and headed for the door, praying the FBI would get them out in time, before Cyrus put his plan into action. 
Bugsy didn’t start panicking until it hit 2:50. She’d managed to kick the small analogue clock on the beside into working, the red numbers seeming to take a millenia to change over. 
Yet it wasn’t until 3am neared, and the hallways remained silent, did she start to wonder if Kathy had been telling the truth at all. What if they had found out Emily and Reid were FBI and not her? What if they’d already been caught?
She really had wanted to see Emily, wanted to scream at the woman, who had meant well, to bring her sister to her or she would make every damn bible basher in this compound regret the day they were born. She felt helpless. She despised feeling helpless. 
It was only when she heard shots rattling from outside did the cold fear set in. 2:52. Any minute now. 
It was then an even worse thought struck her. What if they didn’t bother to come for her? Reid and Emily were safe downstairs, at least that was how Kathy had made it seem. If they got the women and children, the agents out first, she wondered if they would leave her for last since she wasn’t their top priority. 
2:53 stared back at her. 
At least Emily would make it. She was more important, had more going for her. She was supposed to be an only child anyway, mom had said it herself. Bugsy was the product of a failing marriage and a shared bottle of 1896 Bourbon that had been a wedding gift they’d never opened. 
2:54.
She could have sworn she tore something the way her head snapped to the door as it swung open on its hinges, as if two large men had thrown their weight into it. But it wasn’t two men at all, just one frantic Derek Morgan with an FBI grade assault rifle. 
The relief in his eyes was immediate, and he pulled a pocket knife from his boot, rushing over to where she lay, almost in shock, wondering if he was real at all, her heart pounding as she heard shouting in the corridor. 
“I’m gonna get you out, kid,” The man promised, slinging his gun over his shoulder as he sliced through the rope on her ankles, her eyes trained on the 2:55 that watched them as if to laugh at them. 
She whimpered, cursing behind her gag when she heard footsteps pounding through the hallway, and she was sure they were going to get caught. She thought then it would have been better if they’d forgotten about her, that at least Derek would have been safe, and he could have made sure the children got out safely, could have gotten Spencer and Emily medical. 
Derek whirled on the doorway the same as she did as a tall figure all but skidded around the corner, his legs weak as hers felt, too long and not at all built for running. Clumsy almost. 
Spencer. She should have known from the way he looked white as a sheet the moment he saw her it was him, but maybe she really did have concussion, as it seemed within moments he was fussing over her face, tearing a little too sharply at the tape over her mouth. 
She thinks she groaned, or maybe cursed him out, as he started apologising immediately, his eyes a puppy kind of sad as she stared up at him, Derek handing him the knife to cut her arms free. 
He was talking, but she couldn’t make a lot of it out, just that he was really sorry, it was 2:56 now. It was like her brain switched itself back on when she realised she was free, and the two of them were trying to haul her to her feet. 
“Come on, princess, we gotta get out of here,” Derek said, as Spencer looped an arm around her waist, helping her limp across the room where her weak limbs did little to hold her upright, her ribs throbbing with every step, “We managed to stop Cyrus from detonating it manually, but the circuits are all still live,”
Morgan took the lead with the rifle, knowing some of Cyrus’ men had stayed to look for them, that they would go down with the building even though he’d already shot their leader the moment they’d breached the front door, because that was how loyal they were. They’d proven so already with the wine. 
She kept her groans behind tight lips as they made it down the stairs, knowing Spencer didn’t mean to hold her bruised bones so tight, that he was just worried and her legs were doing the bare minimum to keep them both moving very fast. It wasn’t until they made it within a few feet of the door that they seemed to pick up the pace.
And she saw why. 
Jesse, Cyrus’ child bride that had been the reason they’d come here in the first place was holding the detonator, her face tear streaked at the sight of her husband and prophet dead on the floor, the people responsible all but dragging a lame girl through the foyer and to the doors as if they hadn’t killed a handful of her flock tonight. 
Bugsy saw the moment Jesse decided she wanted vengeance on them, but then, she guessed Spencer had already acted as he slung one of her arms over his shoulder, yanking her out the front door in a matter of seconds as Morgan pulled up the rear, and the two men shoved her down behind the small wall outside the church steps. 
Bugsy expected the bang to be louder as the rubble flew over their heads, the floor shaking with the impact of the bomb detonating, and it was then she realised one of Derek’s large warm hands held her head into his shoulder, protecting her already rattled skull as best as he could. Spencer had done the same, throwing half his body over her back as he covered his ears, the two men tucking into the wall tightly and waiting for the dust to settle. 
Spencer started coughing first, though his position over her never faltered, and she heard his chest wheezing, and knew they needed to move away from the thick smog that blew into their faces. Morgan released her ear, tipping her head back to check her over once more. 
“Kid! You okay?” He fretted, noticing the way her nose had started bleeding again from all the movement; the way the bruise had already started blotching her cheek from where Cyrus pistol whipped her. 
“I didn’t think you’d come for me,” Was all she could say, and Derek thought it was the saddest he’d ever heard her. 
Reid was pulling her to her feet then, where he was still hovering over her, despite the fact the blast had already cleared,  still sputtering and hocking up a lung, but it didn’t stop her from throwing herself at his middle, burying her face in his dusty sweater, not caring one bit if he jostled her aching ribs. 
He was trying to be gentle with her as he squeezed her back, but she knew by the way he pressed his face into her hair he needed it just as badly. 
“You saved my life,” He said, his long arms wrapping around her waist, hauling her whole body against his. 
She laughed through a cough, their cheeks brushing past one another as she pulled him in tighter, thankful, relieved. 
“You saved mine,” 
And then she heard Emily. Emily, who sounded frantic and heartbroken as she called for her, her voice breaking as if she was crying, or atleast on the verge of, and as comforting as Spencer’s long arms around her cracked ribs were, she needed to see her sister was okay. 
Ripping herself from his embrace immediately, she tore off after the sound, and there she was. Her older sister, who had always seemed immovable, like she wouldn’t so much as budge for a bucking horse, like water couldn’t drown her, or however many unsubs she’d faced could stop her from catching them. Her older sister, who looked like she’d taken a few punches of her own, judging by the blood on her blue blouse, that looked around the crowd of fleeing people with watery eyes and a shaking bottom lip.
“EMILY,” She yelled, her voice a bleat, a lamb calling for its mother, as she sprinted down the steps, whatever strength she had left carrying her to where Emily was rushing towards her, taking the stairs in threes, “EM-”
She crashed into her sister’s chest, and it was only then she started crying. 
“I swear I’ll never give you trouble again, I’ll never talk back, I’ll never be a bitch ever again-” It was all a slew of mumbles against her sisters shirt, that was beginning to wet through at the rate the tears were coming, “I thought he was going to shoot you-”
“I was so scared, Bug, oh my god,” Emily murmured into her hair, squeezing the life out of her baby sister that sniffled and sobbed, “You don’t ever, ever do that to me again,”
Bugsy shook her head, clawing at Emily’s back as she pulled her closer, feeling Emily stroking her hair softly to calm her even in the slightest. They stayed like that until she managed to wrangle her sobs into little sniffs, the fire burning her eyes where it burned the rest of the church to ashes. 
She stayed with Emily for a month after that. 
+4. The one where you leave the altar. 
She knew she was turning heads, walking down the street of a drizzly day in Virginia, hair wet and sticking to her face, makeup running down her cheeks, and the sodden, dove white wedding dress clasped in her hands as she paced towards the government building. 
Whether the guards recognised her as the Ambassador’s daughter, or whether they really didn’t want to get into it with a bride looking like that on her day, she didn’t know, but they opened the door for her nonetheless, exchanging raised brows as a trail of wet followed her gown over the marble floors. 
Heading up the desk, she flashed her driver's licence, which was enough to gain her a visitors pass she didn’t bother putting to use as she headed for the elevator, her ballet pumps squeaking under the body of the dress. Waiting for the doors to start closing when she finally let a few tears slip, burying her face into her cold, drenched palms, undoubtedly making the mess of mascara even worse. 
Her heart gave a leap when she heard someone stop the doors, hoping she could get to her sister with little delay, and she quickly wiped her face with whatever was left of her pretty, dobby cloth shawl she had yanked on before she’d ran. 
Whatever excuse she was about to give, whatever one liner she was about to drop to clear the awkwardness this agent was about to walk in on was sucked out of her when she saw Spencer staring at her, his briefcase in his hands he’d used to hold the doors, a wide eyed look plastered on his face as soon as he saw her state. 
“Bugsy,” It was somewhere between surprise and sadness, jumping into the elevator before the metal could shut again, the button for the sixth floor already lit up in a ring of red, “What are you- I didn’t even know…”
“Spencer!” As seemed to be a common occurrence between them now, she threw two very cold arms over his shoulders, tugging him for a hug he quickly reciprocated, feeling like she needed it in the moment, “It was so awful, I just couldn’t all those people staring at me, and he- I just feel so-”
“Hey slow down,” He soothed, slipping his favourite cardigan off his body to put over her shoulders, ignoring the way he cringed as it quickly got sodden, “Let’s get you to Emily, I’m sure we can fix this,”
She nodded, though he could tell she was still shaken up, the elevator dinging to a stop on the fifth floor where an agent looked ready to step in, his face dropping when he saw the sight. 
“Sorry, we’re full,” Spencer said, with little room for discussion, pressing the button to close the doors once more, and taking her by the elbow as she began shivering, “We’re gonna be just fine, you look beautiful,”
She laughed sadly with a roll of her eyes, the tears sticking to her cheeks. She knew she looked no better than a drowned rat, windswept and disgruntled, her dress full of muck from the street. 
“Thankyou, Spencer,” She mumbled, the door sliding open to the sixth floor, where Penelope and her everlasting smile greeted her favourite boy genius. 
She almost dropped her glitter pen when she saw the woman stood next to him looking like Dorothy dragged through the twister. 
“Oh you poor little lamb, what has happened to you honey!” She all but cried, the cute little pom poms in her hair bouncing as she brought Bugsy closer, taking her hands tightly. “Your hands are ice! You’ll catch cold with that wet hair, and your gorgeous dress-” 
“Garcia,” Spencer cut her off, though the woman didn’t seem to mind being manhandled into the kind grip, he guessed her state had her letting her guard down, “This is Bugsy, Emily’s little sister.”
Penelope gasped, her ponytails swishing around some more, the gems on her glasses as bright as the light in her eyes as she yanked the younger girl in for a tight hug. 
“It is so nice to meet you! Emily talks about you all the time,” She said, pulling away and fumbling through her pockets for her fresh pink handkerchief she always carried around, mopping up the girl's eyeliner. 
“She-she does?” Bugsy asked, sniffling, her body trembling as the AC beat down through the water ladened on her body. 
“Of course she does, come on, let’s go get you coffee, I have a new machine in my office that makes the best espresso-” Garcia grabbed her hand as if they were kids in the playground, as if she’d known the girl years, which she sort of had. She had, of course, stalked every single one of Emily’s known relatives, even a distant cousin that never left Europe, and that had thrown up the quiet corner of the internet that Bugsy took up.
“I needed to talk to my sister, if that’s okay,” Bugsy braved enough to say, the swishing of her dress on the carpet making her wince, practically hearing the gallon of rain that soaked the expensive fabric. 
“Ofcourse! How silly of me, I’ll bring it out right to you, little bug. You just go with Spencer,” Handing him the handkerchief, she set off towards her ‘bat cave’ in search of a hot beverage for the shivering woman, “Spencer, clean her makeup!” 
He did as he was told, dabbing the water off her face as he led her to the BAU, where Emily and Morgan sat on their desks, chatting as they finished off lunch, Emily flicking through photos on her phone of baby Henry that JJ had sent over to her that morning from maternity leave. 
“He’s just the sweetest little boy, he’s got the biggest blue eyes just like Jayj,” She said through a smile, “You know Will even said-”
“Holy shit-” Morgan cut her off, and she glanced at him, wondering about his use of a curse. Following his eyes over her shoulder, she swivelled in her position to see where Spencer led a very wet, shaken version of her little sister through the doors of the BAU, a snowy ball gown hanging off her, a veil clinging to her hair that had seen much better days. 
“Holy shit,” She agreed, immediately darting for the girl that tugged Spencer’s cardigan tighter to her body, “Bugsy,” 
“Emily, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t take up too much time- I just couldn’t do it- and I know mom’s always saying ‘Bring home a doctor, bring home a rich man,’ but I just couldn’t no matter how rich his daddy is, he wasn’t even too bad-” It all came out in a slur, not making too much sense, and she didn’t stop until Emily held up her hands, as if easing a wild dog. 
“Woah, take it easy, kiddo,” Morgan hushed, as Emily brought a hand over her sister’s cheek, wiping away the last of the mascara, “What happened?”
Bugsy took a deep breath, looking between Emily and Derek, feeling the rain drip down her back. 
“So a few weeks ago, Mom made me go to that stupid debutante ball,” She started, rolling her eyes already as Emily winced, knowing Elizabeth loved any excuse to dress her youngest up like a Barbie doll. 
“I hated those things,” She confessed, shaking her head, “I thought you’d agreed you didn’t have to go to them anymore,”
“That was while I was in college, she said at least I could focus on my studies,” The girl explained, as Garcia tottered back through the office, a steaming cup of coffee in her beloved Bratz mug. Taking it from the chirpy woman, she took a deep gulp, not caring if it burned her mouth as she wished for the damn chill to go away, “Thankyou- But she made me go to this one on the condition she would pay off some of my college loans, and I was dumb enough to fall for her bribe,” 
She huffed, taking another sip, her stomach warming with the hot liquid settling through her throat. 
“You know how she is at these things, she knows everyone, and everyone knows her. I had four guys asking for my dance card within minutes of arriving there, it was like trying to walk through a dog pound wearing a meat suit, all the hand holding, trying to touch my waist- one guy even called me Madam Prentiss,” She grimaced, shuddering at the thought of it, “Madam? No one even calls mom that-”
“Focus,” Emily reminded gently, and she seemed to nod to herself, setting back on track.
“Right. And then he was there. Byron Hastings.” Bugsy said, wrapping her hands around the mug some more. 
“Oh, isn’t he that super yummy bachelor that just inherited his fathers business?” Garcia jumped in, not noticing how it made her wince, “I hear his dad totally owns a bunch of shares in Facebook and as like just signed a deal with a new company that will change the future of computing-” 
“Not now, baby girl,” Morgan said calmly, patting Penelope on her shoulder when she saw the bride’s crestfallen face.
“Right, sorry. Your turn, little bug,” She said, shaking her head and fiddling with her dozen rings. 
“Yeah, that’s him.” She replied, running a slightly warmed finger over her eyelash where rain even collected there, “And you know, I wasn’t complaining, he was certainly easy on the eyes, and he smelled nice, like he just smelled rich, but man alive he was so boring,” She sighed, “I like computers as much as the next girl, no offence, but he didn’t once ask me what I was into or, and when I tried to bring up my degree he just patted me on the head and said ‘That’s nice’ like I was some child that had brought him a pretty colouring or something,”
“Ouch,” Emily grimaced, rubbing her arms over the cardigan to warm her up a little more, “And then?” 
“And eventually, his dad and my mom cut a deal that we’d make a good pair. He said we could be married within the season, and suddenly everyone seemed up for it, and it was like no matter how hard I tried to dig my heels in, no one would listen, and mom just seemed so pleased with me-” She spluttered, sipping her drink to catch her breath, “I just let it happen and just thought, you know, maybe we could learn to like each other, or we could just be like mom and dad and separate in everything but paper,” 
“It’s your life, who is she to tell you how you’re gonna live it,” Emily was outraged, the tip of her nose pink, her dark eyes stormy as her hands fell to her hips, huffing as if it had been her backed into a corner, “I can’t believe she would do this to you,” 
“I was fine with it, really. It's not like its the fifteenth century when I’d be forced to consummate- anyway,” Bugsy rubbed her face, “I just got there, and mom put on my veil and told me I’d make a lovely Mrs Hastings, and just the sound of it- I couldn’t-”
“What on earth is going on?” A new voice cut through the BAU, and the group disbanded like kids caught trading answers to the homework. Rossi and Hotch stood by the unit chief’s office, brows furrowed at the wet bride and his team that tended to her as if she were a princess. 
“Should we be expecting four wet bridesmaids too?” Rossi asked, the two of them making the steps down to the floor, approaching the guilty faced woman, noting Spencer’s cardigan wrapped over her shoulders. 
“Nope, just me,” Her joke fell flat as she met the stony face of Aaron Hotchner, who looked thoroughly unimpressed, “Nice to see you again, Mr Hotchner, sir,” 
His gaze slid to Emily, mouth opening to share whatever scathing remark bounced around his mouth, but the younger girl beat him to it, everyone’s eyebrows raising when she all but cut him off. 
“This wasn’t on Emily, sir, I just showed up out of the blue, I can go- I’ll go- I just need to figure out where I’m staying since I left my purse at the church- don’t you worry I’ll be out of your hair, Aaro- sir,” Bugsy stammered, plonking the mug onto Emily’s desk, backing away to the doors of the office, clutching her visitor pass tight in her fist. 
Maybe it was because she looked so hopeless, or maybe it was the way his team shot him the same look of horror he would be so regimental, or maybe even it was the fact part of her reminded him of Sean, only his brother wouldn’t have had the courtesy to apologise for his mess. 
Sighing, he gestured her to come back, “Wait,” He said her name, her government name because the other one didn’t fit right in his mouth, “Reid, get her some clothes out your go bag. Emily, tell your mother she’s safe and will be staying in Quantico until you can figure something out,” 
Heaving a sigh of relief, she launched her still sodden form at the chief, wrapping him in a stiff hug, bolder than anyone else on the team had ever dared to be. 
“I swear to god, Mr Hotchner, the next letter you're getting will be the best one yet,” She mumbled into his hard chest, and he fought off the way the corners of his lips twitched upwards. Patting her on the back gently, he ignored the way his dress shirt wet through. 
let me know what you think! mAYBE A FEW MORE PARTS COMING UP ??
Edit: This is a part one of 3 or 4 I have planned, thankyou so much for all the love on this I did not expect the reaction 🥺🥺
SECOND EDIT: part two and three are out now!! Have a look at the top where it says ‘next chpt and it’s there bbys!!
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starkwlkr · 13 days
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fever dream | sebastian vettel
part 2 part 3
warnings: toxic soon to be ex husband who cheats on reader (if i miss anything, let me know!!)
update: i decided to make this into a series, thanks for reading!! you can read it here!
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liked by lewishamilton, yoursistersaccount and 24 others
yourusername a short trip back home 🤍
lewishamilton enjoy it!
yourusername thanks lew! miss you and roscoe 🤍
lewishamilton roscoe and i miss you more
yoursistersaccount it’s great to have you home
yourusername 🤍 love you
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“luke, alison! your aunt y/n is here!” your sister yelled as she opened the door to her home. in a matter of seconds, loud footsteps were heard running down the stairs. “no running!”
but still the kids didn’t listen, they were excited to see their aunt. “hey, my babies! oh my god, you two have grown so much. stop growing!” you hugged your niece and nephew.
“i’m almost as tall as mom!” alison, the younger sister, said.
“liar, that’s just what dad says to make you feel better. i’m going to grow more than you and then i’ll be taller than you.” luke teased.
“you both can be tall, but never as tall as me.” you joked as you placed a kiss on their cheeks.
“are you going to stay with us forever?” alison asked innocently. “dad said that you don’t want to stay with your husband anymore and you’re going to stay with us.”
“alison!”
the truth was hard for little kids to understand. yes, you were going to stay with your sister for a few days and yes, you didn’t want to stay with your husband anymore, but it was a bit more complicated than that. your husband had cheated, lied, manipulated you and you had enough. he was the reason you couldn’t come back to the sport you loved and worked your whole life for.
“well i am going to be staying here, but not forever. i just needed a break from him, it’s normal.” you tried to explain to the girl.
“but my mom and dad don’t take breaks?”
“alison, just go to your room, you too luke, please. dinner is going to be ready in an hour.” your sister said, feeling embarrassed that alison would ask those questions.
“what did i do?” the older boy whines as he and his sister walked up to their rooms.
“i’m sorry. i spoke to jack the night you called. we were cleaning up the table after dinner, i assume she heard.” your sister explained.
“it’s okay, they’ll understand when they’re older. not everyone is cut out to be loved . . .”
or a mother.
only a few people had known about your issues with infertility, your sister and lewis being two of them. after you retired from f1, you were sure that in a couple months, you were going to be busy with doctor’s appointments, buying baby clothes and building a crib, but none of that happened. after a year of trying, you were convinced you weren’t meant to be a mom.
you thought about returning to the track, after all many drivers returned after saying they were retiring, why couldn’t you? but that plan was spoiled by the man you thought loved you.
“you can’t go back, you don’t belong there. it’s a man’s sport. you’re probably going to crash in the first lap anyways.”
you didn’t know why you stayed with him, but you did. maybe it was the promises he kept telling you about or the hopefulness that one day you would become parents and maybe he would change. but again, none of that happened.
“um, i have to call someone. i’ll be right back. excuse me.” you told your sister as you walked to the patio door and exited the house. without hesitating, you clicked on a familiar contact. you held your phone against your ear and waited for the person on the other end to pick up. it felt like forever, but eventually they picked up the call.
“hello?”
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goggles-mcgee · 3 months
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Phantom Fudge
I love the fics of Danny settling into Gotham and having some sort of business and just absolutely confusing the Batfam with how flippant he is about the crime.
My take is, instead of a coffee shop or bookstore or occult shop, Danny opens a fudge shop!
His parents taught him, and he found he actually really loved it, and besides, his dream of being an astronaut was out of reach due to his unique medical readings. In this au, his parents learned about him being Phantom and took it well after a good period of spiraling because-Holy shit they shot their son. You may be asking, Goggles, didn't you just make a post that was all about Jack and Maddie not taking the news well? Yes. Yes, I did.
I go back and forth with wanting to salt them and not. I like both.
So anyways, Danny is the heir to the Ghost Throne, but he won't actually take up the official title until his time on Earth is naturally over. After everything got better with his parents and his regular ghost fighting buddies, he actually was able to raise his grades and graduate. Many teachers were amazed at the progress but really, Danny may not have been as smart as his parents and sister (he is an unreliable narrator and is actually very smart just not as conventional as his family) but before his accident he had done pretty good in school. The GIW was still a thing, but without the Fenton technology, they weren't doing as well as they previously did. His parents broke their contract after they rescued him from the GIW labs, it was a little after he told his parents about his halfa status and they came storming in to save him and all the other ghosts that were captured. After that, life got so much better. His parents listened to him, and he got to teach them all about his people. They started publishing more papers with actually accurate information and were doing their best to overturn the anti-ecto acts. They haven't accomplished it, but Danny was sure they would.
That's actually why he moved to Gotham. Tucker had the idea of contacting the Justice League to help with the anti-ecto laws, but their calls weren't being answered. Neither were the...strongly worded emails Sam sent in. So Danny did what he did best and jumped into something not entirely thought out but hoping for the best. He moved to Gotham so he could get close to Batman and ask for help. He got accepted into Gotham University on a scholarship. But he wanted to make some money on his own without his parents sending him some kind of allowance, and he didn't want to work at Bat Burger. He started selling fudge around winter at his school, and he got permission to do so.
From there, he got enough money to actually open a small fudge cart. Then he got enough for a small shop near his apartment which was rather close to Crim Alley so he hired some working girls to help with the shop and he employed any Alley Kids looking for some cash as delivery workers. (They only delivered in Crime Alley, though, but that was fine with Danny.) Danny loved his little fudge shop that he lovingly named Phantom Fudge, and the sign had a cute little ghost eating some fudge on it. When he was in school for classes, he left the shop in his friend Ginger's hands. She had been a working girl before, but before that, she had had experience working a small mom & pop kind of shop, so Danny felt good leaving her in charge. When Ellie visited, she helped out with the shop too.
Danny was thriving. Then he started getting customers of the ecto variety because, of course, he would. Apparently, he was something of an ecto filter for the shades and ghost of Gotham, so they would visit his shop to soak up some of the pure ectoplasm in the air. Then he experimented and made some ecto-fudge, which is what he gave to any ecto beings that entered his shop. Most couldn't pay, but they would give him a heads up if they saw anything shady happening around his shop.
Like a little heads up that some robberies were happening in the area, or some rogue was getting close. It was a nice little system they had. Though some ghosts came in just to tell him their unfinished business and like...he wasn’t King yet, but these were his people, so he tried to help them out as best they could.
One particular couple showed up a lot and would ask him to help warn their son of any danger they heard was brewing. They would ask him to leave messages for the son or any of his kids but also the butler if needed. Danby thought this guy had some great parents. They didn't cross over because they needed to make sure their son was safe and taken care of. It was most likely that they wouldn't cross until their son did by the sounds of it. He got permission to call them Grandma and Grandpa, which was weird, but he didn't question it.
Martha and Thomas were nice spirits, so he had no problem helping them out. But Danny is Danny and his well-intentioned help of course caught the eye of the whole batfam.
They had been receiving letters in the Manor that appeared mysteriously. The first one they had all thought was a prank from the many people there. It was a simple, 'Don’t go to the gala. Something bad will happen.' That started it all. They were all baffled but laughed it off, and those who went to the gala didn't know how to feel when the seeming wait staff took over the event and held the guests hostage.
A coincidence surely.
Then they got another note, 'Freeze is planning to do a B&E and snatch some equipment from a Wayne lab. Idk which one since you have so many.' And just like last time, the note was speaking the truth. It continued from there, and everyone tried to capture whoever or whatever was leaving the notes, but any cameras they had glitched out before returning to normal and showing a new note had showed uo somewhere in the Manor. Bruce was going crazy trying to figure out who or what their messenger was.
Alfred once found a note that said, 'Tim has been awake and pushing himself too far. He is going to crash.' He took it to heart though and made Tim rest and take a break. He would not let the note happen. Tim had had far too many crashes the past couple of months.
The note that broke Bruce, though, was small in words, but it made him feel crazy. It was his parent's death anniversary, and when he went to visit the exact spot, he saw a sticky note on the floor. He shakily picked it up to see all it said was, 'It's okay.'
Now he is really worked up and determined to find the note messenger.
While that's going on, Danny also gets some local vigilantes visiting his shop, and he is so excited to see them and try and be their friend so he can ask for help. Plus they seem to be fans of his fudge and that just makes him happy.
The batkids thing the Phantom Fudge shop owner is suspicious, but hot damn did he make some bomb ass fudge.
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yoongiseesawmp3 · 10 months
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cupid - seungcheol (m)
summary: brother’s best friend!seungcheol. you move in with your brother joshua while you look for a new place, so you finally meet his best friend and roommate seungcheol. you’ve only heard stories, so you’re not prepared for the good looks or the charm that he constantly exudes. after a really bad date, you need someone to save you, and with joshua mia, seungcheol comes to the rescue.
word count: 9.3k
warnings: smut!!! afab reader. unprotected sex. gendered terms (pretty girl, reader referred to as sister/sis). thigh riding. a little oral (m receiving).
masterlist
“jesus, how many boxes do you have?” joshua complains as you hand him another box of books to lug into his apartment. 
“only a couple more,” you tell him. “these are all the things i couldn’t fit in storage.”
“get a bigger unit next time,” your brother grumbles as you start the walk back into his building. 
“no,” you say stubbornly, and you can almost hear him roll his eyes. “why did you park so far away?”
“why are you complaining!” he shrieks. “i’m doing something very nice for you! be grateful!” 
“i am,” you say as you rush to open the door for him, and he quietly thanks you. “seriously, you don’t know how much this is helping me, big bro. i was about to have a breakdown trying to find a place before my old lease ended.”
“i heard,” joshua laughs. “mom called me the other week and told me to check on you, she thought you were losing it.”
“yeah, well,” you sigh, “if i had to deal with those roommates any longer i was going to.”
“so you’re looking for a place by yourself?” joshua asks as the elevator dings. he lets you go in first, reminding you of what floor to press before you respond.
“yeah, i can finally afford one, so i figured it would be nice to have my own space.”
“i can understand that,” he nods.
“you happy living with your roommates?” you ask. “not ready to give up your frat boy days from college?”
“shut up,” he says. “not all of us got good jobs right after graduation. i need roommates if i wanna live in this area.”
“and remind me of their names again?” you ask, the elevator stopping on your floor. you let joshua go first, following him down the hall and trying to remember the unit number.
“well there’s seungcheol, or cheol,” josh starts. “you haven’t met him yet, he’ll be home later.” he unlocks the door and lets you in as he goes on. “and then mingyu-”
“i remember him,” you say happily, glad to know there’ll be a familiar face here.
“and i remember the little crush you used to have on him,” joshua smiles evilly. 
“i did not!”
“hm, you sure?”
“swear on your life.”
“whatever,” he laughs. “anyway, he’s got a girlfriend now, and we haven’t seen him here for longer than a couple hours since they started dating. so you can stay in his room until you find a place.”
“oh no, i couldn’t-”
“he doesn’t mind,” joshua waves you off, your box placed ungracefully on the floor. “seriously, he doesn’t even keep his stuff here anymore. it won’t be an issue.”
“if you say so,” you sigh. “ok, one more trip?”
“nope,” joshua shakes his head before laying on the couch. “you’ve used up all your favors for today.”
“what a helpful brother you are,” you deadpan. “give me the keys. i’ll go get the rest of my stuff. alone!” 
“sounds good!” josh replies, tossing his keys to you dangerously. “don’t get lost!” 
“no promises!” you shout back, locking the door behind you as you go. you thankfully don’t have much left to bring up, so you’re able to grab a majority of your things this trip. what’s left you can get later, because you’re exhausted. now that you know you have a bed and not an air mattress to sleep on, the idea of laying down is becoming more and more appealing. only problem with you grabbing so many things is now you can’t open the door on your own. thankfully, a guy who must live here too rushes over to hold it for you, nodding when you thank him for the help. he catches the elevator for you both before it closes, sticking his arm out so the doors won’t close in on you as you bring your things inside.
“what floor?” he asks, and you start to reply when you see your floor already selected.
“oh, you’ve got it already,” you tell him, and he nods. end of the conversation, it seems, until you get to the floor and start walking in the same direction. you slow down, waiting for him to maybe turn off at a different door, but, yep, he’s unlocking the door to joshua’s apartment. you stand in the hallway stunned for a moment before you go up and knock the door, not wanting to dig for the keys now that your hands are full. mystery man comes to the door, and you stutter out a greeting.
“don’t tell me you lost my keys already,” joshua calls from within the apartment, and the man, who must be seungcheol, looks between you both.
“you’re joshua’s sister?” he asks, and you nod. he steps aside, letting you in, as he says, “sorry, i didn’t realize. i’m seungcheol.”
“i pieced that together,” you smile. “nice to meet you. thanks for letting me stay here a while.”
“no problem,” he replies. “joshua didn’t really give us a choice anyway.”
“josh you said they were fine with me being here!” you whine, looking for your brother, who pops his head out of the kitchen with a smirk. 
“he’ll get used to it. you hungry, y/n?”
“starving.”
“cheol?”
“i can eat,” he shrugs, eyeing you carefully as you put your things down. josh didn’t say his sister was hot. well, that would be weird. he just didn’t say much about you other than you’re a couple years younger and in need of a place to crash, so the fact that cheol can’t take his eyes off of you is a bit conflicting for the man. he looks away before you can catch him staring, clearing his throat before he says, “um, i’m gonna go wash up.”
“oh, can you show me where the bathroom is?” you ask.
“uh, sure,” cheol says awkwardly, walking down the hall as you follow. he points to one door and says, “that’s joshua’s room, not sure if he said that already. your’s is back there,” he points to a door further down on the right, and then to the door behind you, “that’s your bathroom. you’ll share with your brother.”
“it’s like i’m a kid again,” you joke, and cheol smiles softly. “where’s your room?”
“what?” cheol sputters.
“well is there another bathroom? you said josh and i would share this one, i’m just curious,” you go on. “sorry if i’m prying.”
“no, yeah, um, i have the master suite since i found the place for us,” he explains. “the guys let me have it as a thanks for doing all the apartment hunting.”
“it’s a nice place,” you note, and he hums in agreement. 
“ok, well, um, i’m going,” he says, pointing to his room.
“right, right, sorry,” you say, waving him off. you step into the bathroom to rinse your face off, removing some of the sweat from your long day. you head back out into the kitchen to bother joshua and he looks up as you walk in.
“so how do you like the place?” he questions, and you tell him it’s nice. without looking at you he asks next, “and how do you like cheol?”
“he’s a little awkward, actually,” you reply. “you sure he’s cool with me staying here? i won’t be here long, if it bothers him.”
“he’ll be fine,” josh waves you off. “he may just be tired. looks like he was coming back from the gym so he’ll be better after his nap and a snack. he’s like a toddler.”
“noted,” you laugh. “you need help with anything?”
“nah, you can start unpacking your stuff,” josh says. “i’ll call you when the food’s ready.”
“joshua?”
“yeah?” he asks, turning to look at you. 
“thank you for letting me stay here. really.”
“anytime,” he smiles. “just remember we share a bathroom again, so no long ass showers.”
“way to ruin the moment,” you laugh. 
you end up going back to “your” room to change, putting some of your clothes away in mingyu’s empty dresser. he really must spend all his time at that girl’s place, you think. you take your toiletries into the bathroom, squatting in front of the sink so you can arrange them among joshua’s countless bottles. as you’re balancing and trying not to knock over something in an expensive glass bottle, cheol walks down the hallway in a tank top and sweats, water droplets still sticking to his chest. the sight of him booking it takes you by surprise, so you fall onto your ass and shake your head, clearing whatever strange thoughts the sight of a damp seungcheol were bringing to your mind. 
meanwhile, cheol joins joshua in the kitchen, opting to sit at the counter while josh finishes the noodles. he wants to say something about you, but isn’t sure how to bring it up without seeming weird. he also doesn’t have much time before you come out of your room, so cheol just goes for it.
“um, does y/n need help moving anything else, you think?” cheol offers, and josh looks over his shoulder nonchalantly.
“you can ask her,” he shrugs. “i’m tapped out for the night though, so i’m sure she is too.”
“ok,” cheol nods. he starts playing on his phone, not noticing you walking into the kitchen until joshua starts complaining about something.
“what, i can’t drink your water?” you whine back, frustrated that your brother won’t let you have one of the bottles in the fridge.
“because those aren’t mine!” joshua informs you. “they’re cheol’s, so at least as him before you take one.”
“seungcheol, can i please have one of your waters? i can get the next case if you want,” you say as you turn around, and it takes cheol a second to focus. you’re wearing an old concert t shirt (cheol is pretty sure he has that same one) and shorts that are barely there. cheol is distracted by the sight of your thighs on display and it takes his brain a second to catch up, so he nods before he really knows what he’s agreeing to.
“wait, what? you don’t have to buy more water,” he says, finally there. “have as much as you want. joshua’s just weird.”
“you’re telling me,” you say as you hop up onto the counter.
“i hate when you do that,” josh says, turning to you with his hand on his hip. 
“you know when you do that you look just like mom?”
“shut up.”
“you!” 
“oh my god!” cheol interjects with a laugh. “are you two going to bicker all the time?”
“no,” you say in unison. 
“most of the time though,” you add, and joshua scoffs.
“only when y/n annoys me.”
“am i gonna have to play referee for you two?” cheol asks. “my god.”
“sorry,” you apologize. “we’ll cut it out. right josh?”
“whatever,” he mumbles, pulling the pot from the stove. “y/n can you get a pot holder from that drawer under you and put it on the table for me?”
“yeah, hold on,” you say, moving with a quickness. “don’t burn yourself.”
“i’m being careful,” josh says softly, and cheol laughs to himself at how quickly you can go from bickering to caring for each other. you both join him at the counter, you struggling to get into the tall chair. 
“watch it shorty,” he teases, making you blush. 
“oh no, i can’t deal with both of you teasing me,” you scold. “so zip it. i’ve got little legs.”
“hm, it’s cute,” cheol says loud enough for you to hear but quiet enough that josh doesn’t catch it over the sound of shuffling bowls. he passes them out and starts serving you and cheol. “thanks man.”
“yeah thanks mom,” you joke, and josh mumbles an expletive before eating his food.
-
after eating, you and joshua were both so tired you just went to your rooms. cheol however stayed out in the kitchen, promising he would clean up. instead, he politely snoops through your things, trying to learn more about you through your boxes of junk. he doesn’t touch anything, just looks, so he doesn’t feel that bad about it. he takes note of the books laying on top of one box, jotting down the titles so he can try to find some of them later. he smiles when he sees a soccer jersey falling out of a duffel bag, and he’s about to break his no touching rule when he hears a loud, “HEY!” from the hallway. he jumps at the sound, bumping his elbow on one of the boxes and toppling books over. he whirls around to find you, clad in a baggy sleep shirt with tired eyes watching on in amusement.
“what the hell are you doing?” you question, and cheol tries to stammer out a response.
“i uh, i saw a bug,” he lies, and you nod. 
“hm, i thought josh would keep his house cleaner than that,” you judge. 
“i’m the pig in this relationship, it’s probably my fault,” cheol says as he follows you back into the kitchen. “couldn’t sleep?”
“no, i’m still hungry,” you grumble. “the noodles were my only meal today.”
“you need to eat more,” cheol scolds and you wave him off as you open the fridge.
“whose lunchable is this?” you ask over your shoulder.
“look at me,” cheol gestures. “do i look like i eat those?” you stare maybe a little longer and harder than you should, prompting cheol to ask, “find something else you like?”
“what? no,” you shake your head. “i should’ve known it was my brother’s. he lived off of these for a month when he was younger.”
“really?” cheol chuckles. “what was joshua like as a kid?”
“hm, angelic?” you say sarcastically, hopping back up on the counter like you were earlier. you start eating your lunchable as you keep talking. “he was the perfect one and i was the biter.”
“the biter?” 
“i bit so many kids i almost got kicked out of school,” you confirm. “sorry. don’t know why i just told you that. it’s embarrassing.”
“it’s okay,” cheol smiles. “you still like to bite people now?”
“only when provoked,” you say suspiciously. 
“i’ll remember that.”
“so you really don’t mind me staying here?” you ask with cracker crumbs on your lips. cheol finds that captivating, so he keeps his eyes on your lips as he responds.
“i really don’t mind,” he nods. “i’m just happy we could help. josh was worried about you for a while.”
“yeah, well, he never liked my roommates-”
“or the area you were in,” cheol says sternly. “he said it wasn’t safe.”
“oh it wasn’t,” you nod. “but it was cheap.”
“still, you need to be careful,” cheol tells you.
“didn’t know i was signing up for a bonus brother by staying here,” you tease.
“i’m not being a bonus brother, i’m simply a concerned citizen,” he says, hand over his heart. you fall silent while you finish eating, and cheol does his best to commit your form to memory. he wants you to be embedded in his eyelids when he lays down and closes his eyes tonight, and he only feels bad for a nanosecond that he feels this way about his friend’s baby sister. 
“ok, well, thank you for the company,” you say as you look for the trashcan. 
“under the sink,” cheol says, anticipating what you were looking for and keeping his eyes on you still. “all good?” he asks when you’ve thrown everything away, and you nod. “alright, well, good night.”
“night seungcheol,” you say with an awkward wave as you go back to your room. when you’re halfway down the hall you hear cheol call your name, so you turn to find his eyes smiling at you.
“call me cheol, i like that better.”
“oh, ok. night cheol,” you try again, and he happily nods. 
-
when you wake up the next morning, you hear someone in the kitchen and assume joshua must be up and about. you wrap a blanket around yourself, laughing at the fact that mingyu has a pink fuzzy blanket in his room. you make your way into the kitchen, ready to complain about how cold you were last night. 
“dude, are you rich or something? why’d you run the ac all-” you stop short, staring at cheol’s bare back. he looks back at you, hair ruffled, and has the audacity to smirk. “sorry. thought you were josh.”
“he’s still asleep,” cheol replies, and you consider just going back to your room to hide until you’re sure your brother is out here as a buffer. with his back to you still, he asks, “do you want eggs?”
“uh, sure?”
“are you?” cheol laughs, turning around to face you fully. you’re doing your best to keep your eyes on his face, but when he crosses his arms over that broad chest of his you falter. “i promise i won’t put anything weird in em.”
“that’s reassuring,” you say with a yawn, letting the blanket fall slightly as you cover your mouth. cheol sees your sleep shirt again, this time stretched out from your movements as you slept, and he wonders for a moment if it would look like that after he uses it to pull you closer and- “do you mind if i make coffee?”
“go for it,” cheol says, grateful for the distraction from where his mind was going. “machine’s over there.”
“thanks,” you mumble, half asleep still. you stand in front of the coffee maker for a moment, brain processing what you need to get first.
“you need me to find the instruction manual?” cheol asks, watching you the whole time you were standing there. 
“make your eggs cheol.”
you empty the coffee grounds that were still in the bucket, then take a fresh filter from the stack on the counter. you move around cheol to fill the pot with water, making sure there’s enough for you all to have a cup if you want. after pouring the water in, you notice you’re missing one crucial thing. you check the counter, nothing. you try the drawers below you, then the cabinets below those. still nothing. you move to the pantry and spend a moment frustratedly moving things around in search of coffee and you come up empty once again. as you turn around to look everywhere once again, you almost jump out of your skin seeing cheol so close, watching you with an amused look in his eyes.
“jesus, you scared me,” you gasp.
“i’ll wear a bell next time,” he jokes. “looking for something?”
“the coffee, where do you keep it? please don’t tell me you’re out,” you whine, and cheol just smiles. 
“you can find it on your own, i believe in you.”
“what? no, tell me.”
“and why should i do that?” cheol asks seriously. 
“i don’t know, because i’m cute?” you joke. 
“yeah, you are,” cheol says, holding your gaze, quirking an eyebrow to challenge you. you swear you would deck him if he wasn’t so handsome. you whirl around to look in the pantry again before you hear cheol’s deep voice just barely say “colder.”
you look at him suspiciously, and he’s back to cooking the eggs. he’s keeping one eye on you though, sneaking looks at you and trying not to smile at how ridiculously cute you are being so frustrated over this. he prompts you with a few more “cold”/”colder” clues before you whine in exasperation.
“but i already checked over here,” you complain, back in front of the machine. “i’ll just go get coffee, forget this-” 
you reach out to turn the coffee maker off, and cheol mumbles “warmer.” your ears perk up, so you move your hand around the counter to get a clue. finally you lift your hand toward the cabinet above the coffee maker, and cheol says you’re getting warmer. 
“hot,” he says as you finally open the cabinet, “hotter, hotter than you are, hottest, you’re on fire! be careful!” he continues, even though you’ve found the coffee and you can now finish the pot you were making. “well that took a while.”
“because someone was being childish,” you chastise him, and cheol smiles like he just won the lottery.
“but it was fun!”
-
“why didn’t you like that place?” joshua asks as you leave another perfectly fine apartment. 
“there’s no dog park,” you reply, and your brother groans. loudly.
“you don’t even HAVE a dog,” he complains.
“but i want one! i can’t have a dog if there’s no where for it to go!”
 “come on y/n, that place was nice!” joshua tries hyping it up for you. “there was so much space, way too many closets which is good for you and all your junk, and that view was amazing.”
“the view was really nice,” you concede, and josh bumps shoulders with you as you keep walking toward his apartment.
“plus it’s walking distance from me,” he smiles. “so you can bother me whenever you want.”
“that is a plus.”
“and it means you’re close to cheol too...”
“what?” you stop and look at him, and he laughs.
“i’m just saying. it’d be easy for you to visit. doesn’t matter who you’re visiting.”
ignoring joshua’s insinuations, you go back to discussing the apartment you just saw. if you wanted to apply you needed to move fast, but you were nervous. joshua listened intently as you aired all your worries, and like the good big brother he is he calmly countered each ridiculous thought with logic and only a few jokes. by the time you were walking down his hallway, you were convinced that you’d found your apartment. you grab your laptop from mingyu’s room and start working on the application, joshua peering over your shoulder every once in a while to help you decipher what it’s asking for. you’re thankful for the help, and you turn to ask him another question and almost jump out of your skin.
“jesus, make some noise next time,” you gasp, seeing shirtless cheol behind you again. he was leaning over the couch, close enough that his chin could almost lean on your shoulder. 
“whatcha doin?” he asks with a cheshire cat-like grin.
“applying for an apartment,” you inform him, and you’re not sure but you think his face falls just slightly. “do you ever wear shirts at home?”
“why, is that a problem for you?” he asks. you feel like a goldfish, closing and opening your mouth like an idiot trying to decide how to respond.
“y/n?” joshua laughs as he comes back from the bathroom to see you mooning over his roommate. “you good?”
“i’m being heckled,” you finally reply, and cheol laughs. 
“i asked if she needed help, sorry if that’s heckling now,” he says as he moves away from the couch.
“it is when your tits are out,” you grumble, scrolling back to the page you were working on. cheol made you mess up, but don’t tell him that.
“not like you haven’t seen them before, sweets!” cheol teases, and joshua looks between you both in amusement.
“you’ve been staring at his tits, y/n?” 
“no, he just never has clothes on apparently,” you defend yourself. “he was shirtless this morning when we had breakfast too.”
“you had breakfast together?” joshua asks, looking to just cheol now. he had told josh he slept in today and that you must have made the mess in the kitchen. why didn’t he say he ate with you?
“we were in the same room when we ate, yeah,” cheol nods. joshua leaves it at that, mostly because you start whining about something you don’t understand on your application. he rejoins you at the couch and cheol goes to his room, silently cursing himself for letting josh catch him so easily. he didn’t want your brother knowing he was catching feelings, so he’ll have to play it cool from now on. 
-
speaking of being cool, the boys keep this apartment too cold. after your first freezing night, you wore more clothes to bed thinking that would keep you warm. unfortunately, you don’t know where your hoodies are, so you had to make do. so when you wake up in the middle of the night shivering, you stomp out of your room to go bang on your brother’s door. just as you’re raising your fist to bang on his door, you hear cheol’s open down the hallway.
“you again?” you groan, not missing the fact that cheol still isn’t wearing a shirt. “how are you not freezing?”
“i am,” he replies, and you fall silent. “i was getting up to change the thermostat.” 
“oh.”
“and you were..?”
“gonna complain about it to my brother?” you say sheepishly, making cheol laugh.
“joshua is the one that keeps it so cold, he would just tell you to go back to bed,” he tells you as he walks toward the thermostat. “you know you technically live here. you can adjust this if you want.”
“i know,” you nod, watching cheol move it to an acceptable temperature. 
“so why didn’t you?” he asks.
“i uh, didn’t think about it.”
“no?”
“that, and i don’t...know..how to use it...” you mumble, hoping cheol drops it.
“you don’t know how to use a thermostat?” he teases with that perpetual smirk he seems to always wear around you.
“no, and at this point in my life i think it’s too late to learn,” you say. “thank you for fixing it tonight, hopefully i won’t wake up frozen in the morning.”
you try to turn and head back to bed, but cheol grabs you by the back of your shirt and pulls you toward his warm chest. he places an arm around you lightly, turning you so you’re staring at the thermostat, trying very hard to ignore cheol’s direct stare as he speaks again.
“it’s easy sweets, just push this notch,” he demonstrates, “then push the up and down buttons to change the temperature. this is good for when you want it to be cool, but if you want to clean out my wallet you can keep it a couple degrees cooler.” he finishes and turns his head back toward you again, and you notice just how close he is. you’re afraid of moving, of speaking, but cheol takes care of that for you. “any questions?”
“yeah, can you move your arm?” you whisper. 
“no,” he whispers back. “why are you whispering?”
“because i’m scared?” cheol looks at you confused. “i’m afraid you’re gonna put me in a headlock.”
“you want me to?” he laughs, finally stepping back to give you some space. “do you need extra blankets or anything?”
“ah, no,” you reply. “i wanted to find my box of hoodies but i have no idea where it is, so the blankets in mingyu’s room will be fine.”
“you need a hoodie?” cheol asks, and without giving you a chance to respond he disappears into his room. he comes out with a mound of blue fabric in his hands before pushing it into your arms. “use this.”
“no, i can’t-”
“take it,” he says firmly. “or i’ll be forced to keep you warm myself.” at the sound of that threat, you hastily pull the hoodie on before thanking cheol and ducking back into your room for the night. he stands out in the hallway, smiling to himself.
-
you’re busy for a few days after that, finally settled at your brother’s place and able to focus back on work and finding back up apartments if the other place falls through. you’re not home much, and by the end of the week joshua sits you down to convince you that you need to go out. 
“josh, i’ve had such a long week,” you start to justify. “i don’t wanna go out this weekend. i’m afraid i’d fall asleep at the club.”
“no, no, i didn’t mean anything like that,” he clarifies. “i think you need to go on a date.”
“why?” you ask, a little shocked. joshua never cared about your love life, mostly just judging from afar (and sometimes not so afar). you tend to keep that part of your life private anyway, so it’s not like you let joshua be a part of it outside of obligatory meet the partner nights with your family.
“i don’t know,” he shrugs, “i just think you’d enjoy it. i actually have this friend-”
“oh god, please don’t do this-” you start to complain, afraid josh is about to set you up with cheol.
“no, no, hear me out,” josh continues. “he’s your age, he’s sweet, he’s cute i guess, and i think you’d really like him.”
“so i’m guessing you have all of this planned?” you ask, and joshua smiles.
“be ready tomorrow at 8. he’s picking you up, and i’ll be at jeonghan’s if you want to bring him back-”
“don’t say that please,” you request, holding your hand up. “i’ll go on the date but i don’t wanna hear my brother insinuate i’m gonna have sex at his apartment.”
“i didn’t say anything, you’re the one that insinuated,” joshua laughs as he gets up, passing behind you and kissing the top of your head as he goes to his room. “you’re gonna have a great time, sis.”
-
despite not wanting to go on this date, you were nervous. you don’t want to make a fool of yourself in front of this guy, because he’s friends with your brother and anything embarrassing will be brought to joshua and used to ridicule you for the rest of your life. you also don’t wanna write this guy off before you meet him, because he could be nice. maybe.
that fire is quickly put out when you actually meet the guy. his name is chan, but he claims josh and all their friends call him dino. you wanted to ask why, but you were afraid of the answer. you just smiled politely and tried to lock up quickly, hoping that the faster you move the quicker this date will be over. 
at the sound of the front door closing, cheol is stirred from his nap. he didn’t have any big plans, but he had gone to the gym earlier and exhausted himself so he thought he deserved some rest. he assumed the door sound meant you or joshua was home, but after checking he realized it was just him. he wonders for a moment if he should check on you, but he decides against it. instead he takes a shower and starts working on dinner, choosing a chill night to rest since he has the place to himself. 
meanwhile, your date is going horribly. first of all, chan was super awkward walking with you to his car, and then he didn’t speak much on the ride to dinner. oh, well, he did, except that was only his road rage coming out. you heard this man say more cuss words in a fifteen minute car ride than you’ve heard from anyone else all year. he’s said fuck more times than he’s said your name, and quite frankly you’re not confident he knows what it is. 
once you get to the restaurant, chan basically leaves you in the car. you’re not a damsel in distress, you don’t need a man to open your door for you, but it would be nice if the man you’re on a date with would at least wait until you’re out of the car to head toward the restaurant. you make it to the curb and don’t know where chan has gone until he pops out of the restaurant asking an annoyed, “you coming?”
once you’re seated, things don’t get much better. the waitress is pretty, and she’s obviously more interested in chan than you are. you’ve given up on the date by this point, but you think you can get a free meal out of it, so you keep suffering. when he’s not flirting with the waitress, chan is mansplaining to you and gesturing so wildly you’re afraid he’s going to knock everything off the table. he tries asking you questions but keeps talking over you, and when he does let you speak he either looks offended or checks his phone. before your appetizers come, you’re ready to leave.
“what did i do to deserve this?” you text joshua as you half listen to chan describe the most boring thing in the most cocky way possible. you hope joshua will respond, but there’s nothing. 
“are you mad at me? is that why you tricked me into going on the worst date of my life?” you text again, and still no response. 
“hey, that’s kind of rude,” chan says, and you can feel your blood start to boil.
“weren’t you on your phone when i was talking earlier?” you ask in disbelief, and he shakes his head. 
“no, i wasn’t. because that’s rude,” he repeats. you want to groan and slam your head on the table, but you refrain. “whatever. i’m going to the restroom, text away.”
that you do. you keep texting joshua, trying to annoy him into responding, but he stands tall. whatever he’s doing is more important that your horrible night. you have an infinite list in your mind of things that you would rather be doing right now, so you understand josh’s disinterest.
speaking of disinterest, you look up to find chan and see him leaned over the bar talking to another waitress. this time she’s way into it, hand on his arm and phone out to take down his number. you watch as he types it in, then pull out a barstool and take a seat. now you do groan, and without leaving the table you call your brother, ready to beg for a ride back home. 
“come on, pick up, pick up please,” you mumble, hoping beyond hope that joshua will be your knight in shining armor. you get his voicemail and leave behind some choice words before slamming your phone down on the table, frustrated tears threatening to fall. you’re still new to this part of town, so your brother is your only lifeline right now. you don’t trust your ability to walk home without getting snatched, and you know that calling any of your friends would mean sitting here for at least an hour while they come get you. you’re about to go hide in the bathroom when you think of one other option.
seungcheol.
you don’t know where he is or what he’s doing tonight, but you find the “temporary roomies” chat that josh put you into and call cheol from there. you start the same plea, whispering pick up over and over, but cheol answers on the second ring.
“hey sweets,” you can tell he’s smiling. “what’s going on, you and josh having fun without me?”
“cheol, hi, listen,” you start, “josh set me up on a blind date and the guy is a dick and-”
“what did he do?” cheol cuts you off, and you tell him about the car ride, the attitude, and now his interest in any woman that’s not you. “fuck him. fuck your brother too. where are you? i’m on my way.”
“cheol, no, i was mostly calling to see if josh was home-”
“send me the address, y/n,” he says firmly. “i’ll be there soon.”
he wasn’t lying. it feels like only a few minutes have passed when there’s a commotion at the door and you see cheol stalking through the restaurant looking for you. you gather your things and stand, and chan sees you out of the corner of his eye. he comes rushing over just as cheol reaches you, and it’s almost comical watching this stare down as chan gets closer.
“come on, we’re leaving,” cheol tells you, pushing a helmet into your hands.
“what is this?” you ask, eyeing chan awkwardly. 
“hey, pal, we’re on a date, so she’s not going anywhere,” chan tells cheol, and he laughs in his face. 
“sorry, pal, date’s over,” he says, pushing chan back lightly. “go back to the waitress. we’re done here.” cheol doesn’t wait to hear what other bullshit chan might try to say. instead he grabs you by the wrist and guides you out of the restaurant to a motorcycle propped up outside. he looks at you smoothly and motions to the helmet. “i said put that on, doll. can’t ride without protection.”
“o-ok,” you stutter, placing the helmet over your head delicately. cheol stops you and turns you toward him, clicking the helmet into place under your chin, feeling his fingers on your neck sends a tingle down your spine, and you do your best to ignore it. 
“there you go,” he whispers, satisfied with his work. he grabs your head in both hands and playfully shakes you from side to side, smirking as he says, “quick road test, sorry.”
“cheol, you’re crazy,” you laugh, thankful for the distraction. “i didn’t know you drove a bike. this is cool.”
“glad you like it,” he says as he hops on. “now come on, let’s go home before i go beat that loser up.” 
you carefully and tentatively hold onto cheol’s shoulder as you sling your leg over the seat, sliding down accidentally so your chest is pressed firmly to his back. you grab onto his other shoulder and wait, thinking cheol will leave any second. 
“can’t hold on like that,” he seems to whisper, looking at you over his shoulder. “you’ll fall off.”
“well i don’t wanna bother you-”
“please,” you hear him scoff, and then he’s pulling your arms down to his waist. he even takes the liberty of lacing your hands together over his stomach so it’s easier for you to hold on. and suddenly you feel very warm. you can feel the outline of his muscles through his shirt, and being so close to him is getting you drunk off of whatever shampoo or cologne he’s wearing. 
“cheol,” you say before he kicks off, and he’s looking back at you again. “i’m sorry about this. thank you for coming to get me.”
“anytime,” he says sweetly, his eyes flicking to your lips briefly. “now hold on tight.”
before you know it, cheol is kicking off and zooming down the near empty street, ripping a scream of surprise and joy out of you. you thought you’d be petrified right now, but this is actually exhilarating. you’re not sure if it’s the adrenaline of the motorcycle ride or the proximity to cheol, but you almost feel lightheaded. you’re shrieking and laughing like this is a rollercoaster, and there’s a smile plastered on cheol’s face as he listens. 
when you get to a red light, cheol slows down and instructs you to keep your feet up as he places his firmly on the ground. he looks back at you as best he can and asks, “having fun?”
“this is incredible,” you smile. “do an extra lap. i don’t wanna go home yet.”
“yeah?” cheol asks happily, and you nod.
“wait, unless you had plans!” you say. “oh my god, cheol, i’m so sorry, i didn’t even consider that you might have been busy, oh god. i should’ve asked, i should’ve-”
“stop talking,” he tells you. “i’m glad you called. i’d do this for you every day of the week if you needed it.”
“thank you,” you say meekly as cheol revs the bike before carefully driving again. you ride and listen to the sound of the city get whipped by around you, watching the lights and realizing how much you’re enjoying yourself. you lay your chin on cheol’s shoulder and think about the butterflies in your stomach, noticing that they’re going more wild now than they ever have before. 
when you get back to the apartment, you’re immediately met with the smell of food. you’re about to cuss joshua out, assuming he had been home this whole time, until cheol walks ahead of you into the kitchen and asks, “did you get to eat on this horrible mistake i just saved you from?”
“hey, whoa, i was doing this because of my brother,” you say defensively. “it wasn’t my mistake, i was bamboozled.”
“you could’ve said no,” cheol shrugs as he leans against the doorway. then he holds your gaze and asks, “why didn’t you say no?”
“i-i don’t know,” you reply, turning away because cheol’s stare is too heavy for your right now. “i guess, yeah, i did it because i thought it would make josh happy since he set it up, but...i don’t know. it would be nice to have someone, i guess.”
“to have someone?” cheol smirks, taking a step or two closer to you.
“yeah, like have someone be mine,” you say shyly, looking up to find cheol closer than you expected. he stands in front of you, smirk hanging off his lips, arms loosely crossed over his broad chest. 
“you have me,” he says, moving so close to you that you can feel his breath on your lips. he holds your gaze, waiting for you to make a move. awkwardly, you lean in, lips almost brushing. you get nervous and try to back away but cheol quickly grabs you by the chin and whispers, “and i’ve got you” before connecting your lips. your hands fall to his chest, obliviously rubbing your hands over his muscles. his touch to your chin stays gentle but firm, holding you in place so he can devour your lips. you’re breathless quick, but you don’t want to pull away. the sound of keys in the front door scare you out of your daze, and you separate from cheol like you’ve been shocked. joshua walks in, unaware (or is he?) of what he just interrupted. pleased with himself, he looks from you to cheol and back to you before asking, “so...how was your night?”
-
you’ve been avoiding cheol. you can’t believe you kissed him, and you can’t believe you liked it. you liked it so much that you’re afraid of what might happen if you’re around him again, because nothing can happen. he’s your brother’s best friend! it’s like reverse bro code to date your brother’s friend. that would be...weird? and yet here you are, daydreaming about it. 
cheol knows what you’re doing. he knows you’ve been spooked, and he’s annoyed. now that he’s had a taste of you he only wants more, so you hiding from him when he’s out of his room or only leaving yours when he’s in the shower or asleep is really getting on his nerves. you can’t avoid him forever, but damn it if you’re not gonna try. 
you’re currently speedrunning all of your chores, trying to clean the bathroom while your laundry is on and in between you’re washing all of your dirty dishes. you’re doing this because you know cheol will come out of his room soon to go to the gym, so you’re hoping to be tucked away safely in your room before that happens. however, the biggest man in the apartment still manages to move like a mouse, so you turn around to put some plates away and find cheol leaning against the kitchen counter, watching you intently. 
“fuck you, stop sneaking up on me!” you shriek. “i’m serious about that bell now. wear loud shoes or something, god.”
“why, so you can hear me coming and hide?” he asks seriously, and you fall silent. you join him on the other side of the room, stretching to put the plates in the cabinet. cheol keeps watching, realizing this is the first time he’s seen you show so much skin. shorts pulled up just barely over your ass, like usual, driving him insane, like usual. but now you’re just wearing a sports bra on top, and cheol doesn’t miss the way you’re giving him the perfect view of your chest. he’s unapologetically staring, and without facing him you mumble telling him to stop. “i can stare if i want.”
“well can you stop, please?” you beg, turning and crossing your arms over your chest, just pressing your cleavage up more. 
“baby, work with me here,” he groans. “you can’t kiss me like that the other night and then hide from me. and you can’t look like that and not expect me to stare.”
“stop telling me what i can and can’t do,” you grumble, trying to remember what you were about to do. you start to walk away but cheol grabs you lightly by the wrist, and you ask nicely, “let me go.”
“you can leave,” cheol encourages. “i’m not holding on tight.”
but you stay right where you are, a few steps away from cheol. his hand slides down from your wrist to lace his fingers with yours. he squeezes your hand sweetly before tugging you back in front of him, a stupid smirk gracing his handsome face. 
“hi beautiful,” he smiles, making you blush. “so tell me. am i a bad kisser or something?”
“what?” you ask, shocked he would even think that. “n-no, why?”
“well,” he sighs, hands sliding around your waist too quick for you to object, “it’s just that we kissed, and i thought it was pretty sexy, and then you just disappeared on me. which is amazing considering we live together right now.”
“i’m good at teleporting,” you joke, and cheol pinches your hip. 
“answer me, y/n,” he tries again. “why are you hiding?”
“because you’re joshua’s friend,” you say with a face. “i can’t date you.”
“who said anything about dating?” cheol smiles. “we’ve got two beds, sweets. take your pick.”
“you can’t be serious.”
“you don’t want to?” cheol asks, seemingly dragging you closer to himself. he slots his leg between yours, leans in close and asks, “so if i check your panties right now, they wouldn’t be wet?”
“cheol, i-”
“hm?” he asks, pulling back enough to look right in your eyes. “you don’t want this, just say the word and i’m gone. but if you do, baby, please let me do this.”
“joshua can’t know,” you whisper fast before you’re grabbing cheol and kissing him again. his hands slide from their spot on your waist to cup your ass, nudging your core over his thigh. you whimper at the slight drag, and cheol tenses his thigh as he brings your hips forward again. 
“i don’t even need to put my hand down your pants to know you’re wet,” he says proudly. “you ok with soaking my thigh a little bit first, baby?” you nod, and he tsks. “you need to use your words. not gonna do anything unless i know you want it.”
“let me keep going,” you say breathlessly, and cheol easily obliges. he dives back into your lips, hands gripping your ass to keep you grinding over his thigh. you get lost in the pressure between your legs, but you don’t want to be interrupted like you were last time. you try to break from cheol’s lips but he brings a hand up to keep you in place, doing his best to memorize the shape of your lips with his. you realize you need to get his attention a different way, so you reach down to cup his cock through his shorts. he hisses at the contact, lips pulled from yours. “cheol, stop.”
“what, what’s wrong?” he asks, worried. 
“let’s go to my room,” you say with a nod, and his eyes shimmer with lust and a bit of glee. he’s dragging you down the hallway with him, doing his best not to tear your clothes off and leave a trail. once he’s in your room, you push him back lightly so you can be sure to shut the door. cheol takes this time to lay back on your pillows, patting his thigh to invite you back. you join him on the bed, ready to straddle him and go back to grinding down on his stupidly thick thigh, but he stops you. 
“shorts off,” he instructs, and you pull them off eagerly. “let me see your panties.” your legs on either side of his, you sit up and lean back, hoping cheol gets what he wants. he hums and nods when he sees the wet patch, grabbing for your waist to pull you back over his leg. “let’s get you warmed up a little more, need you ready to ride me soon.”
cheol brings your core back down to his thigh, guiding your movements as you whine on top of him. you’re not sure what to do with your hands, so you let one of them wander up to push your bra over your chest, playing with your nipple as cheol guides you agonizingly slow. you try to bounce and get more friction but that makes him hold you down tighter and your whines get louder. 
“that’s it baby, show me how pretty you are when you come and then i’ll give you my cock,” he growls out, a hand slipping down to push past the waistband of your panties. he swipes a finger down to play with your clit and he moans when he feels how wet you are. “all this for me, pretty girl?”
“yes, for you, just like that,” you moan, “make me come please, need to come.”
“you can come,” cheol coaxes. “just waiting on you.” he applies a little more pressure over your clit, and then you’re shaking above him, a soundless gasp left on your lips. as you try to blink away the spots in your eyes, you hurriedly help cheol get undressed, crawling down to his cock before he can stop you. you pull his boxers down as he takes his shirt off, and you gasp when you see his size. you grab him by the base and take a taste, kitten licking his tip and driving him crazy. he wants to wrap his hands in your hair and guide you over his cock, but an equal part wants to pull you up just so he can feel your pussy clenching around him. he lets you decide the pace though, hissing through his teeth as you keep licking him, until you’re ready to swallow his cock little by little. you get halfway down before you need to pull back, and you’re worried he won’t fit. 
“not to feed your ego or anything,” you say after popping off of his cock, “but you’re really big.”
“no that definitely feeds my ego.”
“i don’t think you’re gonna fit,” you say, worried. 
“well get in my lap and we’ll find out, sweets,” he says, reaching for you to help you up and over his legs again. he holds his cock still for you as you line him up with your entrance, and you glance at him one last time, still concerned. “take it slow. i know you can do it.”
“but-”
“baby, i’m letting you pick the pace,” he laughs. “if it were up to me i would’ve slammed you down on my cock already.”
“hmm someone’s horny,” you joke, and cheol thrusts up in retaliation. you gasp at the feeling of his tip at your entrance, and you do what he says. you take it slow, holding your breath as you feel him stretch you out with every inch. 
“how you feeling baby?”
“good,” you gasp out.
“make sure you breathe,” cheol reminds you, and you nod as you take a few deep breaths. he can feel every movement on his cock, and it’s driving him insane to not be fully inside you right now. he tries to push you down a little further, but you cry out and he stops. he gives you a moment to adjust, and you move on your own when you’re ready. you keep pushing down, taking more and more. “you’re doing so good baby.”
“it’s too big,” you gasp out, looking down to see how much you have left to go.
“no it’s not.”
“but it is,” you whine, trying to pull up completely. that’s the last straw for cheol though, because he grips your hips and slams you down over his cock, your clit even grinding over his pubic bone slightly. you shudder at the feeling, shocked speechless at the feeling of cheol’s cock so deep inside you. he helps you ride him at first, but you take over and start a steady pace. you don’t think you’ve ever felt someone this deep before, and your body feels like it’s on fire. 
“you can take it, that’s it,” he encourages, and you pick up the pace. cheol starts meeting you halfway, adjusting so he can hit your core just right. when he thrusts up and you almost fall over on top of him he knows he’s found the right spot, doing his best to keep his pace steady. he pulls you down so you’re caging him in, and he lays your head on his chest as he takes over, thrusting into you so fast you start seeing stars. you’re moaning into his chest, maybe drooling a little too, and it’s driving him insane. you feel so good around him, so warm, so tight, so wet. the sounds of your pussy are embarrassing to you and intoxicating to him, he wishes he had the patience to lay between your legs and lick you clean before fucking you again. but he’ll save that for later. for now, he needs to find a place to come. “where do you want me?”
“stomach,” you mumble into his chest, sitting back up with your hands on his pecs. “gonna come?”
“if you come first, yeah,” cheol nods. he focuses on bringing you closer, grabbing one of your hands off his chest and guiding it to your lips. you open, and he tells you to suck. after you’ve wet your middle and ring finger, cheol brings them down to your clit, leading your movements and applying pressure as he wants. it’s so sexy, letting him lead you like this, and the way he’s staring at you is making your chest tingle, and his cock is still buried deep inside you as you start getting closer. when cheol pulls you down with his free hand, connecting your lips again, you start to come, whimpering into his mouth as the waves crash over you. he works you through it, giving you only a second or two to rest before he’s pumping you again, chasing his own release. he pulls out and immediately starts stroking his cock, coming with a quiet gasp. you shudder as you feel his come land across your stomach, some even hitting your pussy lips. you lean back to let him see his masterpiece, and cheol looks pleased. 
“let me get a washcloth,” you mumble, moving to get up. once you’re off of him, cheol springs into action, guiding you to lay back down. 
“no, you’ll be sore soon, let me do it,” he says before ducking out of your room. he comes back with a wet washcloth and waters for you both, which you take graciously. he cleans you up carefully, and then he joins you back on the bed. the last thing you remember before falling asleep is cheol pushing your hair back, smiling at you softly.
-
you wake up the next morning to a knock at your door, followed by another louder knock.
“what?” you groan, rolling over to face the door just as joshua pops in. 
“morning to you too,” he yawns. “i’m getting breakfast. text me what you want.”
“mhm,” you yawn in reply. “close my door.”
josh leaves without doing what you asked, and there’s a beat of silence before you hear the front door close. you feel hands wrap around your waist, pulling you into a strong, warm, bare chest. cheol pops his chin onto your shoulder, cheesing as he asks, “you think he knew i was here?”
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Halloween prompts year 2 day 29
Dont get him wrong, Danny had some big feelings about finding out his mom had cheated on his dad. He had even bigger feeling about the divorce and the whole shipping him off to live with his bio dad.
He wasn't going to lie. The new school was actually really nice and he had made friends quickly, though at first it was tough to weed out the ones who just wanted to get close to the Wayne family name and not him as a person. He didn't get to chat with Tucker and Sam a whole lot due to thier schedules but he and Jazz always made time for eachother.
His life had surprisingly taken a massive upturn. Vlad had been arrested soon after Danny warned the Waynes about him, making Danny believe either his dad it felt wierd calling him that but da-Jack made it perfectly clear he should never call him that was Batmans sugar daddy or somthing or maybe the Waynes got kidnapped so much that the bats bugged the whole place. Danny hoped not, he had done a whole karaoke thing with Jazz during thier video call the other night and he really didn't want anyone to hear thier shared cat screeching.
Jazz was super happy to learn Danny had joined the Volleyball team and Astronomy club. He used to play Volleyball in middle school and played defense a lot. He was even the best on the team but he stopped playing after one too many times of his parents forgetting to show up or causing a ruckus whenever they thought a ghost was nearby.
But it was better now
The portals were shut down by the bats. The GIW where expertly obliterated from existence. His parents are getting court mandated mental help. There are no more ghosts. No more ghost hunters.
And no need for Phantom
Danny doesn't think he's ever felt this free. He could go out to eat with friends with his way too big allowance that his...dad gives him and he didn't have to worry about having to ditch them to go fight a bad guy. He could eat dinner with a family who was a little awkward but surprisingly open to him and the food was delicious and didn't attack him. He could actually sleep at night and feel safe doing it. His siblings liked spending time with him and getting to learn anout him and thier "bonus sister" Jazz.
He had no reason to use his powers.
Until the grandfather clock he was walking past swung open like a door and he locked eyes with Nightwing coming out of it. They just stared at eachother before Danny just said, "I don't want to know which one your dating. Just know I have a bat and im willing to use it in the most ungodly of ways." And walked back to his room.
He wouldn't be a superhero, but he was willing to be a supervillian to protect his new family. Or in this case make sure Nightwing, a rumored playboy, knew better than to go breaking hearts in this household.
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caxde · 3 months
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drunken confession | steve harrington x reader
summary you're Dustin's older sister, a night out with you're friends makes you see that here might be more between you and Steve (7.5k)
warnings fem!reader, fluff (a lot), mutual pining, yearning etc, slowburn friends to lovers, idiots in love!!!, mentions of alcohol use, tabacco and anxiety (briefly). and eventual smut (p in v, hj unproteccted) english is not my first language so I apologise if there’s some mistakes, not proof read! 
“So, are you going out tonight?” Dustin asked once again, making you center your attention on him, you stop daydreaming. 
“Um, I dunno. We’ll get some drinks, better if you don't wait up I think.” You answered, looking at him. Your brother always seemed like he had more to say, like there was always a puzzle, or an equation that he had to solve in the back of his mind. 
“You’re gonna have to talk to mom.” He scuffed, almost like a laugh. 
“What? Why?” Your eyebrows scratched as you asked, your shoulders got high, and so did your voice. 
“She’s not letting you the car again if you’re out drinking.” 
“Well, I’m not driving so…” You finished, letting the fork in your plate, the clinking of it ending the conversation briefly. 
It seemed like it was going to be a quiet night anyway. Just you, and your friends, nothing unusual. Though you still didn’t know if you’d be drinking in someone’s house or out out. 
Because those are two very different things. 
If you were in someone’s house, you’d be calm, the lights won’t annoy you, the music won’t be too loud, and there won’t be too many people. 
And you’d promised yourself that even if that happened, you weren’t going to overreact, because these things are normal, and it is okay. You're safe, in someone's house, and out in a club or bar. 
Thankfully the bar was still empty when you arrived. 
And the first round of beers went down pretty quickly. 
So did the second one. 
Nancy was excited. You could tell she was really happy, finally having received her acceptance letter to the college of her dreams. She couldn’t stop blushing every time somebody new walked into the bar and said congratulations. 
Robin was as chatty as ever, as she normally was to be honest. You’d found out that Robin gets excited over other peoples’ excitement, and you often thought to yourself what a good cheerleader she would make if she wasn’t as clumsy as she is. 
Eddie was quiet. It wasn’t unusual, not this early in the evening. He always gets more comfortable once he gets used to the people that are wherever you guys end up, and once he realises that nobody looks at him like he’s a freak anymore, in fact, since Corroded Coffin was gaining a bit of a reputation people tried to get close to him, talk to him. He’d never say it, but he loved it. 
And, Steve. 
Well, he was just electric. Something happened whenever you two were in the same place. He’ll participate in whatever conversation is going on at the table, but for a moment, however brief, he’d look at you, and you swear time would stop. 
You didn’t know why that happened, you just enjoyed it. 
And it was happening right now, as you were finishing your second beer, and he was already asking for the third round, his hand up with the empty bottle, once the barman saw Steve, he putted five fingers up, Steve nodded. 
And as it always happened after two beers, you needed to go out, get some air and smoke. And as always, Eddie walked out with you. 
“You doing okay Henderson?” Eddie muttered as he offered you his lighter, smoke already escaping his lips as he talked. 
“Yeah, just thinking.” You answered quickly, just before lighting the camel you had in your pocket. 
“You need to stop doing all that thinking.” He laughed, trying -with no success- to make you at least chuckle. “You wanna talk about it?” 
“I think you already know if I’m being honest.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, pleading that he won’t make you actually say it. 
“For what it’s worth, I think he’s just as much in his head as you are.” He admitted, as he took one long drag of his cigarette, almost gone now. 
“You’re only saying that because you’re my friend.” You brush it off, not really ready to believe that he might be right, not wanting to believe him, in case he was actually right. 
“And I’m also his friend.” He added, looking into your eyes, a soft smile in his face, and something else that you can’t recognise now. “And honestly, you two… something’s going on, it’s not hard to see it.” 
“Nothing has happened. Nothing can anyway.” You add, as you throw your cigarette to the floor, stomping on it so it’s definitely put out. 
“Why would you say that?” Eddie asks, his eyebrows raised, curiosity filling his voice. 
“Because he still likes Nancy.” 
-
Everyone had paid for one round. And you were now debating if you should go home or stay for a little longer. 
Nancy wanted to leave, and so did Robin. 
Eddie didn’t mind.
Steve wanted to stay. 
And you weren’t sure why but so did you. 
So, the table only had three new beers now, and a louder conversation. 
The bar had filled up, and the music was louder now. So of course you needed to scream a bit to hear each other. Again you weren’t really talking about anything important, just enjoying the company they provided, and the warmth that you felt being in a space with your favourite people. 
“Edds, I’m going out for a smoke break, wanna come?” You asked softly, the yellow packet already on your hand, trying not to feel nervous as you feel Steve looking deep into your eyes. 
“Um, not really… I really need to take a piss.” He laughs a bit more than necessary, the alcohol finally taking him over. 
“I’ll come.” Steve's voice finally could be heard. That stupid smile in his lips anytime he gets to spend quiet time with you. 
“Come on.” You smiled shyly as you stood up, a bit too fast, feeling the alcohol all at once once you finally were out of your chair. 
The cold air was the first thing that you felt, hitting you right in the middle of your chest, though you did not feel its coldness, at least not now. Not when he was right there beside you.
You’ll deny it every time somebody asks, but the way he lights the cigarette was hypnotizing. 
His long fingers curving to stop the wind from blowing away the flame, his lips holding it tightly, his eyes looking down carefully so that he does not burn himself. And just the way his nose and parted lips would shine in a soft orange light once the flame was ignited, it made him look both peaceful and angelic. But honestly, that wasn’t the best part. 
The best part of his little ritual came when he’d scooch over you, his face still -even if it was soft enough that he wouldn't notice- scrunched up, concentrating so that the flame wouldn’t disappear. His hands covering the end of your cigarette now, and he would look at you attentively, holding the lighter until smoke came out of your lips. 
You didn’t pay attention to him in that moment -you never could if you didn’t wanna burn yourself- but if you did you’d see the way his eyes couldn’t stay away from the way your lips look. 
And then, he’d always say and do the same thing. 
First, he takes a step back, so he’s not actually so close to you in case it would annoy you, but his feet would stay pointed at you, just like his attention was fully with you, and the way you look up at him. her and her dove eyes. He thinks he could see them even if he closes his eyes. 
Then his free hand would travel to the top of his head, retouching his hair once again, he does that right before he tilted his head to the left.
Then he always asks the same thing. 
“So, how are you doing?” 
And you’d always say the same thing. 
“Good, I’m doing good.” 
But really, you wanted to say. 
“I’m always good when I’m with you.” 
But it didn’t matter how much you'd drink, you never find the courage. 
But for some reason, today, after he asked you how you were doing he kept talking. 
“I’m not gonna lie to you Henderson, I’m getting pretty drunk today.” And he laughed. I could listen that laugh forever, you kept thinking. Though you didn’t need to say it, he knew it as soon as you smiled up at him and bite your lower lips as you looked at him. 
It drove him mad. 
“Honestly?” You asked as he kept laughing. He nodded and scratched the bridge of his nose with his thumb, cigarette still in his hand. “I’m getting drunk too.”
“Can I tell you something else?” He demanded, his eyebrows raising for just a second, your cheeks starting to hurt from just how much you were smiling. As soon as you nodded he lowered his head, and his voice. “It’s a really stupid thing.” He added, his words slurring a bit. 
“It’s never stupid if you say it.” You say back. It always happened, when you were drunk you could not lie, and with that, you’d say things more sincerely, calmer and softer. Even more when Steve was the one listening to them. 
“You look really pretty today.” 
You were expecting everything but that. Your face lighted up, your eyes shined brighter and you didn’t even know your smile could grow wider. You shook your head and scoffed. A friendly and shocked reaction over such sincerity. 
“You’re an idiot.” It’s the only thing you managed to say back. 
But he knew you were happy. Just as much as he knew his heart had skipped a beat as soon as he saw your eyes squint for a second. It was becoming impossible to act normal around you, he realised. 
You stayed there, under the cold starry sky, not saying anything, and it didn’t matter. You didn’t need to. 
Once you finished smoking in such a comfortable silence it was hard to go back inside, but even if you wanted to stay in that quiet moment, you headed back, only to find Eddie deep in a conversation with a girl you didn’t know. 
Well, it wasn’t really a conversation, more so he had his arm around her waist and was following her out. 
Steve laughed in shock first, after looking at you. 
“Guess that means we’ll have to drink his beer.” You add in a chuckle. 
Your body was all warm and fuzzy. You weren’t going to drink anymore. 
But Steve seemed to keep going, you weren’t sure why, probably just the habit, oblivious to you, it was to calm his nervous thoughts. 
The bar was about to close, and that meant that it was getting quiet again, no need to scream anymore. 
“Your ears get red when you’ve had enough to drink.” You point out touching the tips of Steve’s ears, brushing his hair behind them. You were giggly and touchy, even more so now that no rational thought was in your brain. 
“Well… so does your nose.” He replays back, his eyes softer, as he lets his index finger touch the tip of your nose. “bub.” He adds. You’re not sure if he says it as a reaction to touching it or as a pet name, but you don’t care either way. 
“You’re wasted Harrington.” You giggle as you say his last name, your hands travelling down his neck, into his chest, falling clumsy -but softly- into his lap. He loses his breath for a second as he lets himself enjoy the way your skin feels against his. 
“Like father, like son, right?” He half jokes as he raises the beer he still is working on finishing. 
“What?” You shake your head at him. “No, no way. You look just like your mom.” You add. Your voice feels like a soft song to him at that moment. People never tell him that he looks like his mom, even if he always wanted that. 
“You’re the first person to say that, y’know” He confesses, his hand now resting on his hand, his eyes looking deep into yours. 
“Well… It’s true. Your mom’s beautiful, and so are you.” Your cheeks go red as soon as you realize what you just said. Though you mean every word of it. 
“You think I’m beautiful?” He asks, for a second it seems like he’s mocking you, but you know him well enough to know that he’s just shocked at the way you say things, so truthfully, so honestly. You always have the ability to leave him speechless. 
“Yeah, that’s what I said.” You sound more sure of yourself now, as you snatch a little beer from his bottle, he looks at you with his eyebrows raised, surprised and in absolute awe of you. 
“Not handsome?” You shake your head no as you giggle a bit at him, “Beautifull” He elongates the last L, a grin appearing on his lips. 
That stupid Steve grin. 
“Beautiful people are soft and kind. Not just on the outside, but all of them. That’s you.” His whole expression softened, even more if it was possible. His eyes were a pool of honey and coffee, and they could not stop looking at you, with pure adoration. 
“You’re the one being an idiot now.” 
You giggled as you felt the last sip travel down your throat, you nodded before looking back at him. 
“They’re closing, we should go.” You point out once you see the lights of the bar light up. The universal sign that the night had come to an end. 
-
The ride home was always fun, and worth remembering, every single one. 
This one however, was special. 
Your hand rested on the back of his head, playing with his hair lazily, not really thinking about it. It felt nice, and it was the closest you could be to him. 
That’s what you thought anyway.
What you didn’t expect was Steve deciding to let his hand rest on top of your thigh, not striking it, not squeezing it, it just rested there. His thumb drew a repetitive pattern, a kind of gesture that to you meant I’m here, but to him it screamed I don’t wanna leave.
Once he stopped the car in front of your house, he whipped around to look at you. Once again, he said nothing. He just looked at you. You knew what Robin would say if he saw that, probably something like stop admiring at each other and go to bed, please?. Eddie would probably just laugh and give you a little shove. But right now, the only thing that escaped your lips (that might be trembling because of your nervous heart, or maybe it was because his hand was still in your thigh, and yours was still on the back of his neck) was a soft “Thank you” And he just shook his head, a its nothing gesture. 
Though you weren’t ready for him to get out of his car once you were already on the steps of your house. 
“You okay Steve?” You asked as you saw him approaching. 
He didn’t say anything. 
He just hugged you. 
It had never felt like this. His hands holding you closer than ever, his head resting on the nape of your neck. Of course you returned the feeling, holding him thigh, not wanting to let go. Your head rested on his chest, and you could smell every inch of him. Aftershave, a deep cologne, the beer that you had drank and cigarette smoke. You closed your eyes for a second, trying to memorise how it all felt, how his respiration slowed for that moment, how he took a deep breath before letting you go and how he looked down at you, his honey eyes shining. His cheeks a bit flustered, and you're guessing that yours are too. 
“Yeah. Good night honey.” 
honeyhoneyhoney. 
-
“It would just be a quick drop, you wouldn’t even be five minutes late I swear!” Dustin whined again. He knew he was getting you annoyed, and frustrated, he could tell by the way your eyebrows were scrunched up and your nails were getting buried into your waist, holding tight onto something so you wouldn’t snap at him. 
“It’s not about dropping you off, it’s just…” You always had trouble communicating when you were like this, when your thoughts were going faster than your actions, when you got overwhelmed by things that nobody seemed to get overwhelmed by. “I’m supposed to go to Edds show, and I really don’t want to be late, because if I am, I might not find them and then that would mean I-”
“They’ll wait for you.” He looked down at the floor, his hands had his fingers intertwined, the same anxious tick you had, it looks like he inherited that too. “Please? Will goes back to California in a couple days and we really want to finish his campaign.”
You nodded, you understood the need to see someone, a friend. You know how much Dustin misses Will when he’s not around. He nodded back, and he sat on top of your bed. Happy. Calm, not pushing your buttons anymore. 
“So… Who’s going?” 
“Where?”
“To Eddie’s show.” He gestured with his hands, a weird look in his face that you had no time to get into. 
“Um, Robin and Steve.” You add back, your voice a bit higher in pitch, turning your back so you can look into your closet, hoping to find something that might work. Your indecision -you often think- is the worst thing that happens to you. “Nancy was supposed to come but she said something came up, so…”
“She didn’t tell you?” The tone of his voice made you turn fast to him, a shocked honesty that makes you wonder. 
“Tell me what?”
“Her and Jonathan got back together.” 
“Oh.” oh. “How do you know?” Your ears were ringing, poor Steve you thought. Poor heart-broken Steve, the only thing you ever wanted for him was for him to be happy, it didn’t matter with who, as long as he actually loved the person and was loved in return. 
“Steve told me.” Even if your little brother’s voice was calm, he was still looking at you with that same look. The one he uses when he’s trying to gather information, seeking a reaction, and if you were being honest, he was getting one. 
“Is Steve okay?” You needed to know, because right now it was all you could think about, about the kind boy that deserves to be loved, even if it can’t be by you. 
“You’re kidding? He helped Jonathan get her back!” That confused you even further, why would Steve help him get the girl he’s in love, get together with someone else. You turned back and started grabbing different tops and shirts and laying them above the bed. 
“Why would he do that? Isn’t he like, in love with Nance?” The way he started laughing made your shoulders tense for a second, jumping at such a reaction. “What are you laughing for?”
“He’s not in love with her! Jesus, you can be blind sometimes…” The palm of his face brushes his face as he looks at you, a puzzled look still on yours. 
“I don’t know what you’re on kid, but I need to get ready and have no clue what to actually wear so…” He picked up the white tank top and threw it to you. 
“You’re an idiot sometimes, you know that?” Dustins i’m much clever than you tone came back as he stood up. You rolled your eyes at him and gave him a petty smile. 
“Yeah, I’ve been told.” 
-
As you parked outside where Eddie was playing, a few minutes late, you grew nervous. The parking lot was full of cars, and finding a spot took longer than you anticipated, so by the time you found a spot and got to the entrance, the queue only seemed longer and longer. People standing in a not-so-neat line, chatting amongst themselves, shivering away the coldness of the night. Cigarette smoke and off-key lyrics filled the ambient of the people pulled away. 
You realise at that moment, you didn’t have a ticket. 
Steve and Robin had gotten in with Eddie. 
And you had no idea how to get in, so you took a quick lap to see if you found someone, anyone. 
Thankfully for you, Steve was by the entrance door, chatting away with one of the security guys. Even if Steve was tall, and had a wide back, the man talking to him toward over him, it almost made you giggle, seeing him as someone smaller, when he usually was the one that filled the room, even with just his presence. 
As you walked to him, smoke escaping your lips and a scent of burnt smoke following you, you remembered the conversation you had with Dustin. And still, you didn’t believe him, at least not until you saw the way his demeanor changed when you approached him, and a relieved “Steve” came out of you. 
Steve lost his breath for a moment. 
You looked truly angelic, and you didn’t even need to try. You in that white tank top that made your breasts appear larger, more exposed than they’re usually are, your hair down, letting the left side of your neck free, as the wind blew, and your jeans hugging every curve of your body. It drove him mad. Even worse, he always loved when you wore red lipstick, like tonight. 
Of course he wasn’t in love with anyone but you. 
But you didn’t know. 
The same way he didn’t know just how much it drove you crazy when his shirts hugged his arms like that, his veins more prominent when his arms were crossed on his chest. His hair always seemed to float, like it had a gravity of his own, but that single strand of hair that felt in between his eyes made you focus on him more. His soft honey dark eyes that were only looking at you, half lidded and full of adoration. It drove you crazy.
Of course you weren’t in love with anyone but him. 
But he didn’t know. 
Just like you had thought until a few hours ago that he still loved, or liked Nancy, it wasn’t until he had picked up Robin a few minutes ago that he didn’t find out that what you had with Eddie was purely platonic. Robin had laughed just as much as Dustin did, and called him an idiot all the same. But still, you both thought that your feelings weren’t returned, because that would be too perfect to be real. Impossible, just a dream. 
However, the way your name sounded when Steve said it made you forget about everything else, and just focus on him. 
A quick hug, not like the one he had given you that night he had driven you the night after you’d spent your entire night in a bar. You had come to realise, he became braver once some time had passed, and so did you. 
So you headed inside, where Robin was waiting for the both of you in the bar, a warm welcome and a big cheers with some beers that you grabbed as you moved further into the pit. 
The crowd was electric, everyone cheering for the show to start, eager to sing along with the band. You followed along, screamed when Corroded Coffin finally came on stage, whoo’d Eddie when he asked How are you doing Indianapolis and laughed when he admitted that he missed saying how are you Hawkins. 
Robin cheered the loudest and it made Steve laugh. One of those authentic, closing your eyes and holding your stomach kind of laughs. You thought that it was one of the highlights of the night already. 
But as these things often go, once Eddie’s band was over, and the next one came, the bar got even more crowded, and the lights felt brighter, and everyone seemed to be looking at you, judging or god knows what. Everyone seemed to bump into you, and you had already pulled the glue out of your empty cristal bottle on both sides. Breathing was becoming a hard task, and so did hearing anything that was being said to you. 
“Honey” You heard Steve as soon as you felt his warm hand on your shoulder. You looked up to him, a haze in your eyes.”Are you okay?” He halved screamed into your ear, his breath lingering into your skin. 
You pull him closer for a moment, afraid he might not listen. 
“Too many people.” You’re not sure if he could hear you, or what he could do. You try even harder to relax your breathing, to stop looking around. But it all ends when you feel his fingers intertwined with yours. 
You look up to him, he just nods to Robin who nods back at him, and he starts walking to the back of the pit, the lights seem to not burn anymore, and the people are few and far between. He just stays there, with you for a second before he opens his mouth. Looking at you and the way your eyes are scanning every single person in the room, looking for something that you don’t know what is.
“Honey?” There it is again, the soft worried Steve voice, his attention only on you. 
You look back at him, as you feel his hand grabbing yours thighter. He’s the only thing you���re looking at now. 
“Do you need to get out? Get some air?” He knows you won’t actually answer, but takes the nodding that you do as a clear enough sign. 
The creaking of the door and the friendly doorman brings you back down to earth, and so does the wind hitting your chest. 
“Better?” He asks again, desperate for some sort of confirmation from you. 
“Yeah, I just- Sorry…” You sort of mumble, more to yourself than to him. 
In that moment you realise that your hands are still tangled together, and the blood rushes to your cheeks as soon as you look down at them. They fit together so naturally, you think. Like a missing piece of a puzzle. 
“Don’t apologize. We’ll stay here as long as you need, ‘s fine.” You instinctively bite the inside of your cheek as you nod at him, a soft smile, a thank you of sort appears on your face, as does a grin on his. 
Without letting go of you, he reaches down into his jeans front pocket, and takes out a box of Camel, offering you to take one. Smoking might be bad for your lungs, but it does help with regulating your breathing, and he knew that’s just what you needed, and honestly, you were craving one, so you nodded again, searching for a lighter with the cigarette already in between your lips. Before you even find it, you feel the warmth of fire close to your mouth, and you just inhale the smoke. 
“Thank you…” He shakes his head, as he inches closer to you, the same strand of hair falling between his eyes again. 
“There’s no need for that.” He whispers, his words just as sweet as he is. His free hand pushes your hair behind your ear, and falls slowly to the nape of your neck, letting it rest there for just a second, his thumb stroking the end of your jaw in soft short motions, holding you up so you look at him, your doe eyes looking deep into his, he swears he could melt right here and there. You were driving him crazier everyday with the way you looked at him. 
For a second there, he thinks you might even love him back. 
“I just don’t know why I get like that, when there’s so many… I dunno” you scoff off, as your shoulders shrug ever so slightly, enough for him to catch, enough for your hair to move again and let the smell of your shampoo reach him. “I’m okay, don’t worry.” You say with a smile. 
He looks deep into his eyes, looking for any sign that you might be lying, he doesn’t find any. And he likes to think that you’re better because of him. It's funny how right he is. 
“We can stay here as long as you need.” Steve reasures you once again, getting closer again. Your body and his only a push away from touching. 
“You’re always so sweet to me.” You’re thinking out loud now, you bite your lower lip as soon as you see him mask his blush with a soft chuckle, as his grin deepens, and you stop for a second to look at his pretty pink lips. You even let yourself imagine what it would be like to kiss them. 
Steve debates what to do next. He knows you’re not lying, he knows that you’re being sincere and truthful. He can tell by the way your eyes are half lidded, looking at him like you’re in the safest space possible -even when you’re actually outside downtown Indianapolis- so in the end, he just wraps his arms around you. And he holds you even tighter when he feels you wrapping your arms behind his neck, and the way you stand on your tiptoes so you can hold him closer, your leg between his, his hands playing with the ends of your air. He breathes you in, intoxicating himself with the way you smell. You’re worried he’ll feel just how fast your heart is beating. But you’re too occupied smiling deeply and sincerely. 
He feels safe. 
Yes, there might be some butterflies, but they’re not nervous ones, it’s all just calmness. Love even. 
-
He ends up paying for your drinks, and you spend the night dancing at the back of the pit with Robin and eventually Eddie joins you. You laugh, and dance around, sing the songs off key with Robin making Eddie laugh as he joins you. Admiring the way Steve covers his face embarrassed, that the idiots causing the whole club to cheer you on as you move are indeed his friends. But what makes you have the deepest smile is everytime you catch Steve eyes, thay always seem to be on you. He even dances with you a couple times when Robin or Eddie go away to the bathroom or to grab more drinks. 
You don’t care because he is here and everything feels right. 
But the night was coming to an end, and you still were buzzing with energy. 
Even outside, where the cold wind wrapped around you you were still singing and dancing until Eddie started speaking. 
“Steve, can I take your car?” He asks, and it makes you all turn around and look at him. 
“What for? Where’s your van?” Robin followed, her voice raised a little too loud. 
“I think Gareth might have taken it.” Eddie explains as he points at his van driving away, with Gareth in the driver’s seat. You can’t help but laugh a bit, stopping slowly as you feel Steve laying his arm around your shoulders, you let yourself think of it as an embrace. Or maybe he was just cold. 
“Who’ll drive me home?” He mutters as he searches for the keys in his pocket. 
“I’ll drive you.” You say, looking up at him. Steve’s eyes shine brighter, with that look. A look you have only seen in him once before, long ago. 
“Sure.” He mutters, a grin in his face. “You won’t kill us?” He jokes as he pushes some hair away from your face with the hand that rests right where your neck meets your shoulder.
“I’ll come with you” Robin mumbles as she approaches Eddie, her eyebrows raised. 
Steve knows that if Robin could talk to him now she would plead with him, to actually make a move. He decides that she’s right. 
“Alright, let’s get home.” Eddie winks at you, a look that begs you to be careful. He grabs the keys that Steve throws him, the jingle of them making you realise that this was actually happening. 
You blame it on the alcohol. But you have to admit that holding his waist was something you have wanted to do for so long its feels fucking angelic once your fingers touch his skin, under his shirt, right above the seam of his jeans. 
Steve chews gum when he’s nervous, and the minty flavor, or maybe the amount of beer inside his system makes him say the most stupid thing ever. 
“Do you like gum?” 
“Yeah” 
“You want some?” 
“Sure.” You stop, expecting him to reach down his pocket and grab the small packet. You part your lips open expecting him to do so. Instead, Steve in a bold move opens his mouth and pulls you closer. 
Before you can even process what he’s doing, his thumb reaches your jaw, opening your mouth a bit more for you, and you see the way his tongue places the minty gum on your lips. You had closed your eyes. Thinking he was going to do something else. 
It had made you nervous and weak all the same. You can’t help but think, as you take a few steps, your hand holding even tighter onto him, that was one of the hottest things you had ever seen. 
It got better. 
After a few steps he talked again. His voice sultier, deeper. His eyes somehow were darker, but still looked like they were full of adoration for you. 
“Does that gum still have some taste on it?” 
“Yeah, minty” You manage to say. 
“Can I have some?” 
This time around, it's you who grabs him. And you can feel the way he smiles at that, and the way his fingers hold your face up again to meet him. This time it’s you who gives him the gum back. 
Only, you place it between your lips, and it's his tongue that gets it. 
In that moment you know, you’re fucked. 
And so does he. 
-
“Honey?” He asks as he sees you pulling into his street. 
The whole drive back home had been exactly like the last time. Except this time the way he would caress your leg felt hungry for your touch back, and your fingers would end up intertwined, singing the songs that came into the radio, not really paying attention, all of it focused on the way he was playing with your fingers. 
“Mmmh?” 
“My car keys may have been chained to my house keys.” He admits, embarrassed, as he covers his face. You can’t help but look at him and laugh a bit. 
“S’okay, you can sleepover.” He nods and you change directions. 
And before you know it you’re already parked, and he’s already following you inside. 
That’s when it hits you. 
Steve is in your room. 
Steve is sleeping over in your bed. 
Steve had practically kissed you. 
whatthehellisgoingon
You shake your head, not wanting to read too much into things that haven’t and might never happen. 
“I uh… I’m going to change.” You whisper, a bit of shame could be felt on your words, and Steve just nodded, lost in the sight that was you in your room. “Do you need anything?” 
“No, I… Usually just sleep with my boxers on.” That confession made you blush and bite your lower lip as you nodded. Not really knowing what to do or say. 
So you just turned around, you took off your bra, tossing it on the floor before you took off the white tank you had. You reached for your sleep shirt. An old grey shirt that was way overdue to throw away, but it was long enough and soft enough that you felt it was perfect for sleeping in. So, Steve just enjoyed the show. 
He stayed there, watching the way your body moved. He was the one that had his eyebrows raised, his chest racing and his cheeks flushed. He was lost in you. And you were painfully obvious that he was looking, maybe that’s why you take a bit longer to take off your tank top before putting on the gray shirt. Maybe that's why your heart skips a beat when you hear the sound of his belt hitting the ground at the same time that his jeans did. While you took your own jeans off, he took off his shirt. 
You knew you had to turn around now. 
And as you did you go lost in him. 
Him standing there, in nothing but his black boxers, framing all of him. Him and his chest with some hair, trailing all the way down to his waistband. That was an image you probably would never be able to forget. 
He took the first step. A soft grin appears in his lips once again. As he pushes the same flock of hair behind your ear, you can't help but tilt your head into his touch. He takes another step forwards, and just looks at you, deep into your eyes. You both chuckle, nervously at the situation, and like before, he holds you. Thight. Only this time, you can feel him against your leg. It makes you press your own legs together a bit more. 
Once he lets go, you slide into the bed, and he closes the lights, following you closely. 
“Is it okay if you hug me?” You ask. 
“Mmh.” He’s at a loss for words. 
He cuddles you, feeling you closer than ever before. And one of his hands gets lost into your thigh, right where your waistband meets your skin, tracing it. Softly. It drives you insane. Steve’s breathing into your hair, and you can feel how his breathing is fastening, just as much he can feel yours, by the way your stomach goes up and down. He can’t help himself anymore. He leaves a wet kiss on your neck. 
That’s all it takes. 
You turn around and you know you’re fucked. You can’t hold yourself anymore. You explote. 
You kiss him. 
The way his lips press against yours feels like he really wanted this, maybe even as much as you did. Your body pulls him closer, and his leg finds itself tangled in between yours. He’s lost in you and the way your mouth feels. He bites your lower lip, softly. And as soon as you feel the tug a soft whimper escapes your lips. Steve melts into you even more, his legs putting pressure in that spot between your legs that is already throbbing for him. Your hands find the back of his neck, and become buried into his hair. His soft chestnut hair. His hands begin to train up, inside your shirt. Holding your waist harder than before. Another moan escapes your kiss swollen lips, and he grunts in return. 
He tries to memorise you, and the way you look like now. To him, you’re a goddess fallen from the sky, and he’s the lucky one. 
He climbs above you, tracing kisses down your neck, as his hands travel up, up enough to meet your breast and press down, even carefully he’s strong enough and skilled enough to pinch your nipples, making them hard. And your legs wrap around him, and you can’t quite believe just how big he’s gotten just from kissing you. 
His hands take off your shirt and as soon as he looks at you he’s a goner. 
“Fuck, you’re beautifull honey.” He groans. A deep voice you’ve never heard from him. 
It makes you pull him closer. And he starts to move, his cock and your clit being only separated by the small fabric between you both. 
“Can I-” He cuts you off as he looks up at you, stopping the trail of kisses he wanted to finish on your left breast. 
“You can do anything you want to me honey” 
You can’t help yourself. The wetness patch only growing on your thong. You needed him, but you were so desperate to touch him, to see him. 
You flipped him around, leaving him laid on your mattress, his hands up in shock. He’s surprised by you in the best way possible. 
You were the one kissing him senseless now, as you grind on top of him. HE grew harder and stiffer with every time your clit pressed against him. His hands grabbed your ass in that moment, hard and burying his fingers as deep as he could. You wasted no time kissing every beauty mark that you could see, slowly going down his stomach, his breath shortening, sucking in and groaning your name in the most delicious way you have never heard anyone say it. 
Your hands found the hem of his underwear and pulled it down. He was so big. His pink tip already wet with pre-cum, and it was all because and for you. Your eyes widened with desire, you had to taste him. 
So you did. 
It only took a lick for Steve to shiver, and that made nothing but turn you on even more. His hand had now started to press on your clit through the fabric. It didn’t matter, it felt too good. 
So, as you looked deep into his eyes, you wrapped your lips around him, and you went down. 
Steve had never been more desperate, the eye contact, you and your pretty doe eyes looking at him like he was the only thing in the world. 
His fingers had pushed your thong to your side, and started messing around your entrance, it wasn’t until his waist flinched forward, making you swallow him whole, that he didn’t actually finger you. 
But once he did, he couldn’t stop, and neither could you. 
The way you moaned, with him still inside you, the way your waist moved, letting him get more aces into you, it drove him mad, he needed you, like really needed you. 
“Steve, please” You begged. 
That’s all it took. 
His hands took off your thong and pulled you up, he kissed you deeply, his tongue getting lost with yours. Your soft lips fit perfectly with his, and the wetness of his cock still in them. 
He was above you again. Three fingers in, your legs already up, he had you prepared you enough for him to enter, but anyway, when you felt the way his cock slided into you, your walls tensed up for a second, and you both moaned as soon as you felt each other. 
“God, you feel so nice honey” He whispered into your ear before biting it. 
Your legs wrapped around him, tightly, and your hands were on his back, pushing him deeper. He wanted to go slow, but seeing you so helpless, so needy for him, made him pick up the pace. With every thrust, your eyes rolled deeper into your head, your muscles relaxed, and your feet were pointed. 
The warmth of his skin felt so good against yours you felt as if it would never be enough, even if you wanted to scream his name, you couldn’t. Everyone was sleeping. So you did the only thing you could.
“I’ve wanted you for so long Steve '' You whispered into his ears in between thrusts. You felt how his head hangs lower after that, his back arched so he could reach even lower. And when you thought he was as deep as he could, he placed an arm behind you, reaching that place that even you couldn’t. 
“So have I honey.” He admitted before kissing you, a deep, wet kiss. Followed by many more repressed moans and loud groans. “I’m all yours.” 
“I’m all yours” You repeated. 
He grabbed your leg and pushed it up, he was so deep now you could feel him everywhere. You were lost in him. The way his hair bounced, the way his eyes looked at you, his lips swollen because he couldn’t and wouldn’t stop kissing you. 
He was a goner. And so were you. 
You hadn’t come this hard in so long. 
You melted into eachothers arms. 
You had a silent moment, where it was all soft kisses and caresses. You couldn’t quite believe that that had just happened. 
Or how good it had been. 
“I meant it.” You heard him whisper, his lips pressed against your ear. 
“What?” 
“I’m all yours.” He repeats. Leaving a kiss in your hair. “I’ve always been.”
“I mean it too.” You let him know, your nose brushing his, your fingers tangled with his. “I’ve liked you for so long, my love.” 
He laughs a bit. Maybe it was the confession he had just got out of you, maybe it was because you had just called him my love. 
“God, me too.” He finally admits, a weight being pulled away from his chest. “But I thought you had a thing for Eddie.” 
“And I thought you still loved-” He shuts you up with a kiss. 
“We broke up because I was falling for you.” He finally admits. 
You can’t stop smiling or kissing. 
You don’t think you ever will. 
-
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gottaluvharry · 7 months
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family
carlos sainz jr x pregnant!reader
summary: your son has a few questions about why his little sister is in your belly, and carlos is happy to explain
———————————
Lazy mornings with your little family were your favorite. You smiled to yourself as you woke to the hushed whispers of your husband and your son. As you turn to face the other side of the bed, you’re met with 2 pairs of brown puppy dog eyes and 2 identical smiles.
“Buenos dias, mama!” good morning mom your son screeched, proud of himself for using Spanish. “Buenos dias baby” you say through a smile. He latches on to your neck and you feel Carlos’ hand rubbing patterns on your stomach. “Morning hermosa” beautiful he says going in for a kiss. “How is little girl?” he asks. “Sleeping I think. She must be tired after all the kicking she did last night” you groan, recalling the many hours you were woken due to the relentless kicking in your stomach. “lo lamento, se amable con mami” i’m sorry, be nice to mommy he says leaning to talk to his unborn daughter. You just laugh and shake your head at the pout he has on his face, guiding him up by his chin to give him another kiss.
“Papa,” your little boy starts, breaking you and Carlos apart. “How did baby get in mommy’s belly?” he asks as he puts his hand over Carlos’ on your stomach. “Well hijo” son Carlos starts. “Me and mommy love each other, and we made your sister together because we love each other” he says, hoping it’s enough to settle your sons curiosity. “Like when you and mommy make pancakes together?” he asks, now moving to sit in his fathers lap. “No, not like when we make pancakes” he laughs. “He is just made out of love, baby. When 2 people love each other so much and want a little baby like you, they will make one. That’s all I can tell you” he says, avoiding a heavier subject. “But mommy, did it hurt when baby went in your tummy?” he now turns to you with fear in his eyes over the thought of you hurting. “No buddy it didn’t hurt” you assure him, ruffling his hair; but you don’t miss the smirk Carlos sends your way remembering the night in question. “So why does baby stay in mommy’s belly for so long?” he asks, now turning to look at Carlos for the answer. “That’s just where they grow buddy. Babies need lots of space to grow and the only place there is enough room is in a mommy’s tummy” he responds. “Oh” he hums, taking in all the information he’s learning. “But how does baby come out?” he goes on, his eyes lighting up when he gets another question. “When he is ready to come out me and Mommy will go to the hospital and the doctors will help her come out” Carlos answers. “But does it hurt?” your son asks, once again scared of you being hurt. “Only a little bit” you say, “but it is worth it because then we get to hold your little sister”.
As your son continues asking questions and Carlos continues tracing patterns across your stomach, you can’t help but smile at the little life you’ve created. Who knew one bed could hold so much love on a random morning.
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hope you guys enjoyed this short little blurb:) sorry it’s been so long since i’ve posted, there was a lot going on and then i started school but in honor of Carlos’ birthday AND pole today i figured i’d post something!! might clear my drafts out and post some more in the next week or so<3
also my inbox is open, so request anything if you have any ideas! or if you just want to talk to someone, feel free!
okay last thing, thank you all for the support, it’s so special to me to have people with the same interests reading and liking my work, i want to give you all hugs<333
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xhoneygirlxx · 6 months
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We’re Not Friends
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Best Friend!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader
summary: Eddie is just trying to help when he offers to be your date to your sister's wedding, but with all the love in the air will you and Eddie be able to stay friends?
warnings: lots of angst. reader's family sucks. reader's mom makes a comment about her weight. anxiety attacks. reader has low self esteem. fluff. best friends to lovers. fake dating. modern au. (this is titled after an Ed Sheeran song and I also use another one of his songs in the fic, sue me). slight smut. allusions to sex. alcohol consumption. swearing. minors dni!!!!!!!!!! reader and Eddie are both in their 20's. no y/n used, reader is referred to as Birdie. skin color/ethnicity/body type is not mentioned. spelling errors/shitting writing, just pretend you don't notice lmao. also the venue is completely made up and so is the location if you couldn’t tell, im not that creative.
*if I miss anything plz lmk*
a/n: hi my loves!!!! this is one of the last fics on my birthday fic list!!! I want to thank all of you for being patient and being so so supportive of my work. I love you all so much!!! also I do go back to work on Monday so I'm going to try to get as many fics pumped out by the end of the weekend.
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And that's why friends should sleep in other beds
And friends shouldn't kiss me like you do
And I know that there's a limit to everything
But my friends won't love me like you do
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The turning color of the leaves create the prettiest backdrop, tall trees blooming with orange, red, and a pinch of brown. The ones that have already fallen to the ground get swept up under the wheels of Eddie's car, lifting up and swirling around in a pretty dance, and falling right back into place waiting for the next car.
Although the crisp fall morning is peaceful you can't help but feel like you're living a nightmare. As he soft hum of Eddie's playlist flows through the speakers, you're coming up with a plan to turn the whole car around.
So far you thought about faking an illness, one that would stop the whole journey in it's tracks, only to dismiss it because you couldn't put your best friend through that stress. The idea of pulling the steering wheel also came to mind but you quickly threw that out of the window, not wanting to cause injury to the innocent man next to you or anyone else. Your final idea was one you're sure you could pull off as long as you used all the power within your being. If you pushed your feet on the floorboard hard enough, you could poke them out like the Flintstones and stop the car that way.
Between science and logic, you knew that wasn't possible no matter how hard you wished it would. Instead you'll stare out the window, watching all the pretty trees dance in the wind while you push down the rising anxiety that's forming in the pit of your stomach.
"You good over there, Birdie?" The deep voice next to you shakes you from your thoughts.
Turning your head Eddie's already looking at you with a lopsided grin. His demeanor matches the landscape outside, relaxed and serene. As you look at him you wish you could trade places, be as pleasant as he is.
"Yeah I'm just tired." Trying to sell him your answer, you smile lazily at him even though your response holds more tension than a game of tug of war.
Turning his attention back on the road, you watch as the pavement moves on the darkened lenses of his sunglasses. Eddie looks pretty like this, even though you always thinks he looks pretty. Usually he would be a grump having to be up this early, but today he wears his smile like a badge of honor. The dark curls of his hair cascade down his back, while some falls over his shoulders.
He's wearing the same red and black checkered flannel he always does this time of year, the same one you said was your favorite three years ago and it still holds that title. Underneath is a plain black tee shirt, the only one he has that's free of any band name, and a dark blue pair of jeans that have no holes.
He's still the same Eddie, his rings still sit on his fingers and his pick still hangs from the chain around his neck, but it seems that he only gets prettier and prettier as time passes by - like the turning leaves that still hang on the branches of the trees that you drive by.
"I think you're worried about this whole wedding thing," His voice is unwavering, screaming "I'm right" like it always does. "I don't get what's so bad about an open bar and free food."
Although his point is valid, Eddie couldn't be more wrong than that. This wasn't just an event to get drunk for free and stuffed to the gills at no charge. This was your older sister's wedding, the same sister that was the apple of your parents' eyes. Veronica was your arch nemesis since birth, a rival that you had no option but to defeat in order to survive.
You were the outcast of the family, the black sheep if you will, and you had to endure eighteen years of nonstop torture because of it. Your parents, Christine and Tim, were nothing but successful. The doctor and his trophy wife, the star couple in your small community, that had two beautiful and healthy children.
However you were the hardheaded child, the daughter that didn't have a bright future, you didn't carry as much promise as Vee, and your parents made sure to remind you of that every day. So when you moved out three years ago, you made sure to distance yourself as much as you could. But when you received a pristine white envelope with a glamorous invite on the inside, you were roped right back into the hell hole you worked so hard to leave behind.
You could've just ignore it, faked that you were on a trip and couldn't make it but your mother pretty much threatened you into showing up. So that's how you ended up in the countryside right outside of Chicago, driving in Eddie's Toyota Corolla to the Jefferson Manner on a Friday at eight am.
"You're right, Eddie, I should be so thrilled by that. Thank you so much for pointing it out to me." It's snippy with a hint of malice, and your eye roll held enough venom to injure an army of men.
Whistling loudly, Eddie chuckles lightly. "Woah, killer. Relax, I was just tryna help." He's still soft despite your outburst, sweet like your pumpkin spice latte that sits in the cupholder.
Hanging your head, you inhale a deep breath and release it slowly. "I'm sorry, Eds. I just really fucking hate my family."
He switches his attention from you and the road, taking in your saddened features. Reaching his right hand over the console, he places his hand searches for yours and laces his fingers through yours, which you gladly except.
"Don't apologize for that, kay? That's a valid reason for you to not want to go, I was just trying to make you laugh." The sincerity in his voice wraps around you, easing the nerves that go haywire in your body.
His palm is warm like the coffee cups that sit in the cup holders, his voice is as calming as the trees in the wind, and his smile is just as pretty as it was the first day you met him. You're safe with him, the safest you've ever been in your life, and here in the front seat of his car he reminds you of that.
"They just make me crazy, s'why I don't like seeing them." You feel shy being vulnerable, refusing to meet his gaze by focusing on tracing the back of his hand with your free one.
Eddie doesn't mind, instead he reassures you with a quick squeeze of your hand. "If it makes you feel any better, Birdie, I like you a little crazy."
Dimples deep as the sea and smile still as delicate as a flower's pedal, Eddie looks like a painting that hangs in the Louvre. You want to capture this moment of him to have for the rest of your life, so no matter what you can always remember him just like this.
"You say that now." You tease and he eats it right up.
Looking back over to you, he shines his smile onto you, filling you up with the light of a million stars. "And I'll say it till the end of time." There's no tease to it, nothing but truth in the way he says it.
It turns you into jelly, the feelings that swim through your blood stream, and now you've become too sheepish to answer. You decided to trust your touch over your words, squeezing his hand the same way he did to yours, trying your best to communicate the feelings you hold secretly in your heart for your best friend.
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The cobblestone driveway leading to the entrance of Jefferson Manner is, for a lack of a better word, beautiful. It is a straight drive to the property, but once you get closer, a large fountain sits in the middle where the arch of the circle driveway starts.
Different colored cars are already lined up, some you recognize and the rest you have no clue who they belong to. Either way it's pretty evident that Eddie 2018 Toyota sticks out like a sore thumb.
The same dread that you left 45 miles back, is now running through you again. Unintentionally, you squeeze his hand harder as your heart begins to pound in your ear and if it hurts him he doesn't mention it. Instead, Eddie gives you one, two, three squeezes and then lets you continue your attempt to stop the blood flow to his hand.
Pulling behind the Mercedes Benz S Class, he puts his car into park and then shuts the car off. Reading your expression the way he always does, he sits in the silence of the car with you until your features loosen up.
"You okay, Birdie?" Even though he knows you're not okay, you still appreciate him asking anyway.
Breathe in. This is temporary. Breathe out. This is not forever. Breathe in. I am safe. Breathe out. I am here.
You repeat this to yourself a few times, eyes clamped shut as you focus on your breathing pattern. Once your head is above water and your heart stops racing, you open your eyes back up to the real world.
Relaxing your shoulders, you let go of the grip you're holding Eddie's hand in. "I'm okay. I'll be okay." Despite answering him, it sounds like you're trying to convince yourself of what you're saying.
Another brief pause goes by and Eddie continues to monitor you, sunglasses now removed so not only can he see you but you can see him.
Your gaze is unwavering, the thousand yard stare has fallen over you and you have yet to dig out of it. "Are you prepared for what we're about to walk into?"
The tone of your voice scares Eddie, the emotion being sucked right out of the words that you speak despite the feelings that battle in your mind that he doesn't know about.
"Honey, I'm prepared for anything as long as I have you." For a split second he winces, wondering if that was too cringy but when your face breaks out into a sweet smile he feels better.
The two of you get out of the car, retrieving your suitcases and dress bags from the trunk. When the door shuts you begin to count the steps it takes to get to the big wooden doors of the mansion.
You don't have to ask Eddie for his hand, he's already giving it to you and you gladly except it, gripping on for dear life the closer you get. Despite the beautiful landscape and the soothing sound of the running fountain, you feel like this is the soundtrack that plays before your imminent death.
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The tall, thick, wooden doors sit menacingly in front of you, the skeletons of your past standing just right behind it waiting for your arrival. The ghosts that have haunted your dreams, the graveyard of your history, and the phantoms of your family, mingle and laugh right behind this door.
Eddie waits for you, not moving a muscle until you say so, and you silently thank him with a smile. Like a switch, he watches your face change from flight to fight mode. In a flash your looking over your outfit, brushing down the long black sleeved shirt that sits on your torso, and then straightening out the jeans that stick to your legs.
Your hair is the next thing you frantically fix, pushing it behind your ears and out of your face, letting it fall over your shoulders while doing so. Like a buzzing bee, you zone in on Eddie, fixing the collar of his flannel and then smoothing the material of his shirt. With out speaking, you pick off a singular piece of fuzz from his pants and then let it blow away in the wind.
Moving your hands back up to his chest, you center the pick on his chain. Then move his hair, fixing the ringlets that got blown around in the breeze. Once your satisfied, you move back to your spot next to him and sweep his hand right back into your hold. Releasing on more deep breath, you settle your pinched eyebrows and your determined eyes, and let the worst fake smile settle onto your lips.
The smile doesn't reach your eyes the way it usually does, your teeth push against one another so forcibly Eddie wonders if you'll shatter teeth, and you simply look like your in pain. Either way, you push open the big oak door and let yourself inside with him following right behind.
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The lobby of the manner is everything you expected, high ceilings, a crystal chandelier, and every single family member of yours gathered around sipping champagne and speaking to each other like a potential client.
Even though it's magnificent inside with the beautiful décor and lively plants, the sight of everyone in their gaudy outfits and cheap laughter makes it feel like an eternal hell.
Eddie must feel the way your shoulders tense because he's quickly leaning into you, his voice just a whisper in the shell of your ear.
"Hey, it's gonna be okay. You have me and I won't let anything happen." He reminds you, his smile is more sympathetic than anything.
Nodding your head you remain smiling, it's awful and it hurts even doing it but if you want to survive the whirlpool of piranhas, then you just have to fake it until you make it.
"If it isn't our lovely Birdie!" The sound of your mother's voice is like silk, smooth and confident, just like she always was. Walking over to you, she holds a champagne flute in her hand and you wonder how much the bubbling spritz cost your father.
The last time you've seen her was last winter, her million dollar smile outshining the Swarovski crystal tree decorations that sit behind her. Your mother has always been beautiful but her insides are rotten, ugly and maggot infested, all hidden behind the mask that she put on for everyone to see.
You gave up a long time ago trying to figure out her brain, finally accepting defeat to the maze that was her mind. Now when you look at your mother all you see is a shell, a hallow covering that has nothing to offer you other than it's pretty design.
Pulling you into a hug, you're hit with her scent. She smells like Dior and cashmere, the Chanel outfit that sits on her body scratches your skin, and the pearl necklace she wears jabs you right in your collarbone.
"Hello mother, thank you for inviting me to such a wonder occasion." You instantly revert back to your old accent, the same one your mother instilled into you from the time you could even under stand the English language.
A faux laugh comes from her bright red lips, "No need for that, darling, you're always welcome." Her manicured hand waves at you in fake genuineness.
The smile on your face continues to show and you hate to think it matches hers. Even with the sweet tone you use and the gentleness of your actions, the blood that runs through your body continues to boil the longer she stands there.
Eddie on the other hand stands next to you completely and utterly amused by your fake performance. The snort he lets out when you continue to use your "eloquent" voice is quickly covered up by a sniffle.
Like a vulture, your mother's eyes are quick to zero in on the curly haired man next to you. "Excuse my daughter for her bad manner of not introducing us, I'm Christine."
The minute her hand reaches out for a handshake, you're heart stops. This is the one thing that could make or break this whole trip and it was the only thing you didn't prepare your best friend for. Many years of your life, you were trained that a handshake is all it takes for someone to learn about you.
Without skipping a beat, Eddie simply picks embraces her hand like a prince out of a Disney movie and places a kiss to the back of her unwrinkled hand.
"What a pleasure to meet you, Christine, I'm Eddie. And might I say how beautiful you are."
He's all dimples and doe eyes staring at your mother, a true prince charming in his red flannel and jeans. His voice is like a cup of hot chocolate on a cold day, it's smooth going down your throat and it warms your belly better than any blanket can.
That warmth is now tingling your body, a frenzy of butterflies flapping around in the walls of your heart. It clearly works on your mother as well but unlike you she doesn't hide it very well.
"You're really the charmer, Eddie." It's flirtatious and alluring, the same voice she put on for every pool boy your father ever hired.
Annoyance and anger floods through you and you know that your eyes would be shining green to anyone with a trained eye.
While she clutches her pearls and eyes Eddie like he's a four course meal, you intervene into the conversation before it can continue.
"Where's daddy? I'd really like for my boyfriend to meet him." You bat your eyelashes like a pageant queen and your arm acts like a python wrapping around Eddie's, making a mark on what is yours.
"Oh you're father's around here somewhere, you know how he is." She dismisses, taking a drink from her glass and swallowing down the golden liquid quickly. "So how long have you and Birdie here been dating?"
"It's going to be two years next month. Isn't that right, honey?" Eddie turns to you and gives you a playful smile.
Looking back at him you hope he can see the misery that hides being your eyes, a white flag of surrender.
Your mother on the other hand doesn't care about your answer, that's why she didn't ask you. She's reading Eddie, trying to see how much she can push your so called boyfriend until she gets what she wants.
"Well that's just wonderful, young love is a beautiful experience. You have to be careful with Birdie here, she's known to leave the nest quickly." It's a jab, a spiteful and mean comment headed right for your gut.
Eddie doesn't miss the way you're lips falter for a second, the flash of hurt in your eyes. It kills him watching you stand there and take all the comments from your mother like stray bullets.
Turning his attention back to your mother, he gives her a smile, one that you would know as a wicked one but to a stranger would seem kind. "I don't think that will be a problem. Birdie knows where her home is."
It's a direct warning, a clear sign to your mother to not mess with you or what is yours. Just him sticking up for you like that makes your stomach twist in excitement, a feeling you've grown so used to over the course of friendship with Eddie.
"Well, I'm glad she finally found her place then." Your mother responds coldly, clearly hearing the bite in his tone. "Why don't you two go find your room and get settled in, rehearsal dinner is in a few."
Before retreating into the large crowd of family, your mother turns back to you in one more attack.
"Oh and Birdie, wear something that will hide that stomach. Don't want anyone to assume you've been knocked up."
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Once you've found your room, you all but rush Eddie inside slamming the door behind you. In the quiet safety of your suite, you can relax your shoulders that have been sitting high since you've arrive.
"Jesus Bird, you weren't lying." Eddie says as he flops himself on the queen sized bed.
You don't respond, instead you squeeze your eyes shut and try to calm the heaviness of your breathing. Behind the darkness of your eyes, little twinkles of stars flash from how hard you have them closed, the swooshing of your heart continuing in your ears like angry waves of the sea.
Breathe in. This is temporary. Breathe out. This is not forever. Breathe in. I am safe. Breathe out. I am here.
You repeat this to yourself over and over again, trying to erase the cruel words of your mother and the images of disgusted family member's faces out of your mind. You're not sure how long you've been standing by the door until a hand grasps at your wrist lightly.
"Birdie," Eddie's coax goes unanswered, "Come on, Birdie."
Warm calloused hands travel to the plump of your cheeks, lifting your face up just enough that he can see you. Finally opening your eyes, you're relieved to be looking into the golden whiskey pools of his.
Smoothing his thumb over your cheek he doesn't say anything, just lets your breathing calm down. Here you are, in the nice room behind the shelter of the locked door, and he's here.
Breathe in. It's okay. Breathe out. You're safe. Breathe in. You are here. Breathe out. So is he.
It's enough to let your feet move on the plush white carpeting, while Eddie leads you to the bed with the tug of your arm. Sitting on the plush mattress on crisp linen sheets you're grounded, and with the heat of Eddie sitting next to you and his hand in yours, you're anchored.
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The rehearsal dinner goes over well enough, the Irish mule helping with every single speech that's given and every horror story of your childhood that is told. Luckily for you, Vee didn't ask you to be in her bridal party so you didn't have to attend the actual wedding rehearsal, and even better you won't have to deal with her for the real thing tomorrow.
Eddie does great at dinner, he talks to your father who surprisingly likes him, both getting along over their love for vintage cars. Your soon to be brother in law and his groomsmen also get along with Eddie, they laugh and cut up most of the time while clinking beer bottles together. Not to mention every single woman there wanted to get into his pants, swooning at everything he said and giving him the 'fuck me' eyes while doing it.
You hated it, every single minute of it. Like always you were ignored, simply looked over until some story was being told where you were ultimately the joke of. Any time someone asked you what you were doing with your life, you were met with cringing smiles and snickering laughs.
Four separate times your mother commented on your dress, the way it fit, the price value of it, and how it really wasn't a good color on you. All of your sisters friends rolled their eyes and whispered back and forth while staring at you, aunts and uncles acted dumbfounded when you told them that you were a freelance writer for a small music magazine back in Indy, and your cousins made comments about how badly you look since the last time you saw them.
It didn't matter anyway, even if your sister asked how you managed to get a stand up guy like Eddie to agree to be with you, in front of all of the guests. You had to remind yourself that you were there for the free booze and food or whatever the hell Eddie said in the car on the way here.
This wasn't a popularity contest for you, it was simply you being forced to do something against your wishes because your mother said so. You asked yourself why you even listened to her in the first place while letting the brown liquor burn in your stomach.
Why was it so important that you even showed up here? Why did you have to come to the awarding ceremony of favorite kid when you knew you weren't going to win? Why would you even set yourself up for such failure just because your mom said so?
Well, you're answer came when a flushed faced Eddie was laughing with your grandparents at one of the round tables in the corner. His eyes crinkled at the sides and his head was leaned back so you had a clear view of the neck you loved so much.
Then you looked over at your sweet looking grandparents who laughed loudly at whatever was said. Your grandmother had her hands on her cheeks, shaking her head back and forth, and beaming brightly. Your grandfather smiled around his cigar, big round belly jumping with laugher, and his cheeks smooshing up against the frames of his big glasses.
You didn't come here to win a competition. You didn't come here because your mother threatened you within an inch of your life if you didn't. You didn't come here because you thought it would be fun.
You showed up because you wanted to prove to the people who doubted you for so long just how happy you were. You wanted to prove that happiness doesn't come from the amount of money in your account or how many rooms sit in your house. You came here because you wanted to prove that they were wrong, that the grass on the other side of the fence could be green too, and that someone who grew up differently that you could still do amazing things.
Eddie was someone that your father would've had you kicked out over bringing him home in high school. Eddie was the boy your mother would tell you to stay far away from. Eddie was the kind of guy that your sister wouldn't look twice at because of who he was.
But right now, during the beautiful dinner the night before your sister's wedding, your best friend/fake boyfriend has them all wrapped around his guitar calloused finger.
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Not much has been said between you and him, especially when he was the man of the hour. You're not really complaining though, you're happy that he made a good impression with them. When the night began to settle into your bones and the alcohol started to make you tipsy, you slyly walked up to Eddie and tugged on his sleeve to let him know it was time to go.
On the walk back to the room, you sway slightly with every step you take, balancing on the walls with one hand while the other holds your strappy heels. When Eddie stops and turns to the door of your room, you all but smack into him with clumsy steps.
While he fumbles with key, you're in blissful content with your eyes closed. The kick of the lock and the turn of the handle doesn't even pull you out of your daze, instead you hold your arms out like a mummy and feel around until you find Eddie's clothed back.
You can tell Eddie is laughing by the large breath that passes through his nose and the tell tale sign of him kissing his teeth. Large hands wrap around your wrists, guiding you into the doorway that you can't see.
Your cheeks are warm, the smile on your face is permanent, and the buzzing in your heart makes you feel light on your feet.
"Alright mummy, lets get you into bed." Letting go of his hold on you, you feel him slightly brush past you to close the door. His voice sounds like the way stars look, sparkling and bright, twinkling all around.
You giggle, eyes still shut and your nose scrunched up. "M'not a mummy but I could be if ya want."
Putting your arms out, you lean back and forth on your feet to mimicking what you think is a mummy but looks more like a zombie.
"Baaaaahhhhh, I'm a mummy. Be very afraid." You deepen your voice, dragging the syllables of every word to make them come out slower.
Eddie must be entertained because the sound of a loud raspberry comes from where he stands, the clear sign of him losing the grip on the laugh he'd been holding in.
Cracking one of your eyes open, you hope to find him with rose cheeks and dimples flashing, the look you love so much. Instead you see him, beaming at you without the shine of his canines. It's an admiring smile, one where your eyes go all gooey and your smile is simple yet dipped with so much love.
Opening your eyes all the way, you let your arms down slowly to rest by your sides, a meek look painting your face.
"Did I do good?" You ask, even though you didn't really want his opinion.
"I think you're perfect." It comes out even, smooth like the hilltops in December covered in a layer of the purest snow.
The two of you sit there for a while, soaking up the glow of each other and letting it sink into your souls. For a moment you wonder if he feels it too, the spark that you feel whenever he's around. You wonder if he feels like crying simply because he loves you that much. You wonder if he wishes this whole dating thing wasn't just a lie and that it was true, the same way you wish it was.
Once the moment ends for him, he's clearing his throat to clear any lovesick daze that's left. "I guess we better head to bed, huh?"
Scratching at the back of his neck, you try with everything in your power to not look down where his turtle neck rode up, where the patch of mouth watering hair trails from his belly button to underneath the waist of his pants.
A part of you wishes you stuck it out longer, stayed in your seat at the dinner table just to see him in his outfit longer. He asked you to help him pick it out this morning and when you think back to it, you get flustered with thinking how domesticated it felt. Making him try on different shirts and jumping for joy when he walked out of the bathroom wearing a turtleneck he swore he'd never wear. The khakis you pulled out of his suitcase was the cause of so much laughter and the pink tinge that sat on the rounds of his cheeks.
God, he looked so good, especially with his hair pulled back and the dangled earring that sat in his ear, but now it would all be a memory for you to file away in the back of your brain.
Eddie had already started taking off his dress shoes, sitting on the edge of the bed bent over and messing with the knots that kept the laces together.
The smile that once held your lips high and proud, now weigh down in a sad frown. Even after the success of the dinner and proving everyone wrong, you are now brought back to the reality of what you and Eddie were. Just friends.
"Since I'm a gentleman and I can't see to get these shoes untied, I'll let you shower first." His voice comes out strained from how hard he pulls on the knotted strings.
You don't say anything, quietly nodding your head before shuffling over to your suitcase that sits by the closet. Grabbing a sleepshirt and some shorts, you go to move around the lanky man that can't get his shoes off no matter how hard he tries.
Without a sound, you kneel in front of him, placing your clothes somewhere off to the side. Taking his calf in your hand, you place his foot on your thigh. Delicately, you remove the first shoe and then the next.
"Y'didn't have to do that." It's quiet but not enough to be a whisper, still you shrug.
"I didn't but I wanted to." It seems so simple when you say it, even though deep down inside you wanted that last piece of your fantasy before it goes away for the rest of the night.
"Will you help me with my dress?" You ask him, standing on your feet and turning so that the golden zipper is facing him.
In the mirrored closet door you can see him and how he hesitates for a moment, shaky hands lingering in the air before they close in on the gold slider.
The sound of the metal teeth unlatching from one another fills the room, clouding the unrhythmic beat of your heart. You try to remember the feeling of him on the sacred part of your skin, the way his light touch tickles you and makes goosebumps rise. You want to memorize it like your favorite song, so that when you leave this place and the fake nature of this whole thing goes away, you still have something to think about on those bad days.
It ends too soon for your liking, his hands retracting right back to the sides of his body like a measuring tape. With the fuzz of your tipsy has now wore off but the sting of everything still remains.
Giving him a small smile and muttering a thank you, you hide in the bathroom where the sound of running water hides the muffled cries that leave your throat.
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Waking up felt more painful than any hangover you've ever had. The pain of Eddie's bare back facing you was heartbreaking. You force yourself not connect the freckles that litter his skin or trace your fingers along his spine and shoulder blades.
It's a sight you've seen plenty of times and sharing a bed is something you've done more than enough that you're not uncomfortable. Yet your heart squeezes, wrapping itself up in the tightest loop so that it hurts to even breathe.
The sound of his soft snores only makes it worse, imagining what he dreams about and if it's you.
You use all of the willpower that's left in your body, marching over to the small kitchenette that sits in the corner of the giant room. Pouring yourself a cup of coffee, you try to focus on the swirl of dark liquid mixing with the coffee creamer and how they mix together so perfectly. Without much of a peep, you slide the glass doors that lead out to the balcony and sit down in one of the plush chairs.
You look out over the mountains of colors, tracing over the lines of trees that go on for miles. Although pretentious, you think Veronica did an excellent job and choosing this location.
Sipping on the hot beverage, you watch the clouds in the blue sky go by, wondering what it would've been like if your sister asked you to be a bridesmaid. You imagine that the two of you would've actually gotten along and maybe even laughed together. You envision what it would've been like to have your mother compliment you in your gown and how it would feel to take a picture with your family where all the smiles were real.
Tears begin to burn the back of your eyes, falling rapidly like a fall rainstorm. The skin of your cheeks burn slightly from the heated trails of water that fall. You're sad and incredibly so. Within the first twenty four hours of being here, you remember how much of an outsider you really are to these people.
Even with the company of Eddie, someone that truly loves you, you still can't help but feel so fucking lonely. To put on the mask you wore for many year back on and pretend that the man standing next to you is yours to claim is harder than any other time you had to do it.
This time you weren't really faking it, the love that you showed to him, the happiness you felt with him was real, just the titles weren't. With the cool fall chill, your coffee has gone cold but your tears keep coming.
"You made yourself a cup of coffee but not one for me, and this is how I find out? That's just mean." Eddie's curly hair pokes out from the small gap in the sliding back door that he's created.
His eyes are squinted from the harshness of the morning sun but his cheeky smile is forever unwavering. Sliding a space big enough for him to go through, he stalks out onto the small space in his plaid pajama pants and a hoodie he must've thrown on.
Trying your best to cover up that you've been crying, you wipe the back of your hand across your cheeks, but Eddie still catches your movements.
Instead of embarrassing you, he sits down in the chair across from you and looks out over the balcony.
"You okay?" It's a simple enough question, one that you can answer with one word and he wouldn't pry for more information to not overwhelm you.
Sniffling, you shake your head yes and then move your gaze to where his is. "No, yeah, m'good. The view really does something for me." You say, chuckling just a bit at your own joke.
Eddie also laughs, only this time it's not as genuine as it usually is, just a hard exhale through his nose.
"Yeah, sure does." He agrees, letting his eyes follow the red and orange of the tree tops.
A calm silence falls over you two, only the sounds of the birds that fly and the ruffle of the leaves can be heard from where you sit. It's peaceful.
"You know, I really thought this weekend would be different." It comes out of your mouth as easy as the breeze that blows. Still your eyes stay trained out in front of you and past the mountains of trees.
Eddie doesn't respond but the hole that he burns through the side of your head with his eyes tell you he's listening.
"When I was little, I used to imagine the day Vee got married. I would fantasize that maybe one day we could be close enough that I could enjoy this day with her and we could be sisters for once." You exhale an uneven breath, moving your sights to the cup that still sits in your hand.
"I just wanted all of us to be a family for once. I wanted my mom to actually act like she liked me, for my dad to say that for once he was proud of who I was, and for Veronica, I just wanted her to say she's happy that I'm her little sister."
Just like that, every single thing you've carried since you were little is now out in the open, whipping around in the wind like the dead leaves. Even with the amount of burden that's been lifted, the pain still remains the same. It all hurts, stabbing you over and over again in the scars that you worked so hard to patch up.
Eddie doesn't say anything and for a moment you don't think he'll say anything at all. You watch him pull out the pack of cigarettes he had nestled in his pocket and place one in between his pretty pink lips.
Another second goes by and he's flicking the wheel of his lighter, shielding the flame away from the wind so he can light it. When the end of the smoke burns red, he takes a big inhale and then lets the cloud of smoke out.
"I know what I say won't matter," He starts before taking another drag of his smoke, "But these people don't fucking mean anything."
"They're you're family and I get that but they don't fucking deserve you, they never have. A fake boyfriend, a new haircut, or a cool job shouldn't define their love for you. They're shitty people who were blessed with an amazing person and they didn't even realize it."
Eddie looks at you the same way he speaks, with nothing but truth. You let the words settle in your mind, letting them soak in, in case you forget.
The tears that once ceased start to flow again, except this time it's from relief. It feels good that someone else sees your worth, to know someone actually holds value to you.
"It kills me that they treat you the way they do, that they can say all those things without batting an eye. I know why you asked me to come here and I know I have a job to do, but man do I want to rip them all a new asshole."
Although he speaks with fire behind the words, you have to laugh from the thought of the actions. The moment you giggle, his own smile forms.
"I hope you know that I love you and when everything is done and over with, we'll give them the bird." To make his point, Eddie raises his middle finger high into the sky.
Repeating his actions, you hold your own finger to the sky and smile happily while doing it.
Letting his arm fall back down into place, he pats the tops of your thighs and stands from the chair.
"That's my girl, now let's get ready for an open bar and free booze." Holding his open palm to you, he helps you up.
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The wedding reception was what you thought it would be, drawn out and boring. The only saving grace of the whole thing was Eddie's commentary, the scruff on his face tickling you every time he leaned close to your ear.
A lot of the things he was saying was probably just to make you feel better but you did have to agree, the dress Veronica picked out was a bad rip off of Princess Diana's and it shouldn't have seen broad daylight.
You did however get choked up when the vowels started, not because you were happy with your sister but because you wish that were you and Eddie up there instead.
All and all it was okay, even though one of your brother in law's aunt's wore a hat so big you couldn't see past it most of the time.
The wedding reception though was beautiful. The décor of the manner looked exquisite against the maroon coloring of all the bridesmaids dresses. The tables had beautiful bouquets sitting in the middle and you can't help but laugh imagining your father cutting a check for all of them.
To much of yours and Eddie's delight, there is an open bar that is stacked high with pricey alcohol. Again you laugh thinking about your father having to pay the tab, which you and Eddie will be happy to run up.
So far this is the most the two of you had fun, both laughing and enjoying the company that's around you. The table you've been stuck at is also occupied by other family rejects that enjoy the titles they've been given.
Eddie's hand hasn't left your thigh, which you're more than happy about, and every so often he flexes his fingers squeezing the meaty flesh.
You feel good, the boost from the drinks and the feeling of your best friend makes you bloom like a flower in the spring. You watch as he talks to the people at your table and how his hand moves with enthusiasm. You trace the muscles in his neck and watch his adam's apple bob up and down when he speaks. Your chin sits in the palm of your hand as you watch him be himself like he always is.
He's so beautiful, he always has been, and in this moment he gets to be yours. You don't have to think about what anyone else thinks, you don't have to question how the two of you look from another's perception, because you know that your heart bleeds for him and it always will.
Eddie's your home, he's your best friend, and he's your person. You think back to what he said to you this morning and how he called you a blessing but you think he's wrong. Eddie is the true blessing. He's sweet, he's smart, and he's so fucking caring it's disgusting. Behind all the jagged features and dark clothes, he's nothing but a giant teddy bear that wears his heart on his sleeve.
"Birdie." He smiles at you, all goo and mush it makes your heart skip.
You hum in response, still sitting in the same position, looking at him as if he were a painting.
"You wanna dance?" He blushes, embarrassed by the request and you feel like you're back in junior high.
"You, Eddie Munson hate dancing." You say, scrunching your nose cutely.
Laughing loudly, he nods, "Yeah, I know, but I'd dance with you."
That breaks you out of your daze, breath catching in your throat. "O-oh, yeah. I'll um dance."
Again he stands, holding a palm out to you so he can help you up. Leaning you to the dance floor, you can't help but feel jittery despite the wine that you've consumed.
Once out on the floor, he pulls you into his chest. Strong hands grip your waist through the silk fabric of your red dress and you desperately try to fight the need that rises in your guy.
You stand stiff, unsure of what to do with yourself and Eddie's quick to help you, placing your hands around his neck where they lay contently.
He looks good tonight, even better than last night, and you hate how it makes butterflies flap around in your stomach. The black button up shirt sits nicely on his torso, wrapping his arms so deliciously you want to take a bite out of them. The black slacks he wears fit nicely and you wonder if he had them tailored and you have to ignore the want to undo the sleek black belt with a bright golden buckle that holds them up. Again his hair sits in a low bun and that silver chain peeks out at you from underneath his collar.
"I can't believe you asked me to dance to Ed Sheeran." You say breathlessly, still nervous with being this close to him.
Eddie snorts, lopsided smile forming on his lips. "What, a guy can't like Ed Sheeran and metal? That's gatekeeping, sweetheart." He teases.
Rolling your eyes, you try to ignore that tingle that settles in your cheeks. "Whatever you say, Munson."
"I'm serious, Thinking Out Loud was in my top ten last year." The two of you hold eye contact until you can't take it anymore, both bursting into laughter at his admission.
"That's something you shouldn’t repeat." You sputter at him and he laughs even harder.
"Hey, I like this song, okay?" He defends, still swaying back and forth with you.
Raising your hands in defense, you pull back on your clowning for the sake of your friend. Placing your arms back around his neck, you lean your head on his chest and try to hear the beat of his heart.
The scent of him floods your nose, cologne and smoke, whiskey and linen, and you wish you could bottle it to keep forever.
"Why do you like this song anyway? It's kind of basic." You mutter at him.
His shoulders lift in a shrug, and he takes a moment to respond. "Honestly, I like it cause it reminds me of you."
Your eyebrows furrow in confusion and you remove your head to look up at him.
"Wha'do you mean?" You mumble, eyes searching his for some sort of answer.
Looking bashful again, red tints his cheeks and ears in a blush. Sticking his tongue out to wet his lips, he hesitantly answers.
"I always felt like he said everything I couldn't, ya know? Everything I ever wanted to say to you, he put in a song."
It feels like the whole world stops, that time freezes and it's just the two of you. You're in shock and for some reason you can't wrap your head around anything he's saying.
"What?" You say harshly and again he shrugs, shying away from your burning focus on him.
"Reminds me of you and everything I ever felt about you. I always wanted to call you mine but if you hadn't noticed, I'm a chicken shit."
You don't say anything, instead you stare at him with your mouth wide open. Eddie starts to loose his cool, frantically flexing his fingers against the material of your dress, looking around at anything but you.
"Sorry, I - shit, I really fucked this up," He doesn't get to finish his sputtering apology because you quickly smash your lips into his.
His lips taste like brown liquor and chapstick, like love and forever, and you can't believe you waited this long to experience it. Two heart sync as one, two people fall together like the leaves outside, and anxieties are finally laid to rest.
You hate that you pull away first but the need for air is too much. Eddie bends enough so that his forehead leans on yours, both looking into each other eyes living in the moment of your blissed out hearts.
"Tell me if I'm being too forward but do you wanna get out of here?" He flirts and you respond simply by pecking his lips once more.
"Thought you'd never ask."
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thank you all for reading!!! love you guys <3
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suuuupernovaaa · 1 year
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kavuk si
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kavuk si [English] vin. betray
Neteyam has chosen a woman, and you know it isn’t you.
1,471 words
Fishing was supposed to clear my mind and calm my nerves, but I was throwing my spear too forcefully, and it was making the fish almost unusable. Plus, I was missing a lot, and that was only serving to further fuel my anger and frustration.
“It’s just a rumor,” my sister said again as I huffed and pulled my spear from the sandy riverbed.
“It is not,” I replied. “His own mother is said to have confirmed it. He has chosen.”
Even without looking at her, I knew Kawti was rolling her eyes behind me. It had been my wish to come fishing alone, but there wasn’t much I had truly done alone since Kawti was born 13 years ago. Despite our seven year age difference, she was my best friend, and I was usually happy to have her along.
Just - not today. All morning, all anyone at home could talk about was how the eldest son of Toruk Makto was finally going to choose a woman, and he was going to make his declaration soon. I knew, in my heart, that Neteyam would have told me already if I was his choice. Just last night we had gone hunting together, and I had eaten the evening meal with his family - he had plenty of opportunity to tell me himself.
Even though we hadn’t exactly expressed how we’d felt, I thought I had been pretty clear in my affections and desires, and I’d thought Neteyam was just shy. Now I felt like a fool. He had not stolen any kisses, or any other affections, and I had been leading myself on. He simply wasn’t interested.
“Come, Y/N. Mom will be expecting us back soon.” Kawti hopped down from her seat atop a tree branch, and extended her small hand to mine.
I grabbed my meager bag of mangled fish, and followed her back to Home Tree.
--
When the rest of my family went to dinner, I stayed back. I wasn’t hungry, in fact I was feeling a little ill, and really did need a little bit of time alone. 
Kawti was annoyed, but her optimism was childish. Not only did she think it was just a rumor, but she claimed to be sure Neteyam was ‘completely in love’ with me.
As if she knew anything about love. She was just a kid.
I could only sit in our little alcove of Home Tree for so long before becoming restless. I was feeling ridiculous, too. If Neteyam did not want me, and had chosen another, then I would have to grow up and move on. There were many fine men in our village, and I knew one would choose me - and I would choose them in return.
I could only barely lie to myself, as dread gripped my chest at the thought of mating with anyone else. So I stood up, trying to shake the thoughts from my head, and walked outside. It was quiet, as most were gathered for the evening meal, and the quietness left me too much to my dark, depressing thoughts.
Without direction, I began walking towards the forest.
“Y/N!” a familiar voice called, and I hesitated before turning.
“Teyam,” I said through gritted teeth. I looked over my shoulder to see him jogging to catch up, a wooden bowl full of food in his hands.
He looked handsome, I thought before I could stop myself. Neteyam always looked handsome, but there was something different... he was wearing a large necklace made of leather that was reserved for special occasions, and his face was painted as if for battle or a ceremony.
“Your mother said you were ill. I brought you this.” He extended it to me, and something about the gesture turned my sadness to rage.
He could choose another woman, ask her to be his mate, and still pretend to be concerned about me? To bring me food? How dare he!
“Bah!” I said, waving my hand. “Leave me, Neteyam.”
He furrowed his brow in confusion and tilted his head to the side, his ears flicking back and forth. “Do you need the healer?”
“No. I need to be alone.” I stepped back, but he stepped forward to follow.
“I need to talk to you,” he said, his voice firm, and extended his hand to me.
I looked at him skeptically, tilting my head to the side, and sighed. It had always been hard to stay mad at Neteyam, and the look on his face was very serious.
I put my hand into his, noting how much larger his was, and we went back into my family’s alcove in Home Tree together.
Neteyam did not let go of my hand when we stepped inside, and I tried to savor it. If he was to belong to someone else soon, this might be the last time we were ever truly alone.
“Well, what do you need to talk about?” I asked, trying not to let my voice waiver. “My family will be back soon.”
This was not even close to the truth, and Neteyam knew it. My mother could talk for hours every night, and my sister was usually exhausted by the time they returned from their socializing. It would be at least an hour before they returned.
Neteyam looked everywhere in our modest home but at me, and I squeezed his hand. “Teyam, spit it out!”
“Damn, you don’t make it easy, Y/N!” he replied in a huff, and my eyes widened in surprise.
“Sorry,” I said, unsure of what I was apologizing for. He was the one who should have been apologizing to me.
Why had we gone on all those rides together? Hunted together? Taken meals together, spent time with each other’s families, if he had not intended to be mine?
“You are mad at me,” he said quietly, and I finally allowed myself to look into his eyes.
“Yes,” I said in a near-whisper. “I am.”
“Why?”
I took my hand from his and crossed my arms over my chest. “They are saying.. they are saying you have chosen a woman. Everyone is to celebrate the mating of the Chief’s son.”
His eyebrows rose up and his shoulders fell. “Well... this is true.”
I nodded, stepping away from him. “Who is she? Ni’awtu? She’s a fine hunter. Or... Petani? She has a fine skill on the loom, and would make a good mate.” I blinked hard to stop the tears rushing into my eyes.
I jumped with surprise when Neteyam laughed so hard that he threw his head back. “You are joking!” he exclaimed.
“I am not! Tell me who it is!”
With considerable effort, Neteyam stopped laughing and closed the gap between us again. He reached out, gripping my upper arms with his hands, and leaned in close.
“You are mad because you are jealous, but you are jealous of yourself, Y/N. Ni’awfu may be a fine hunter, and Petani weaves very well on the loom, but I do not love them. I do not love anyone else.”
Blinking hard, it took me a few moments to understand what Neteyam was saying to me. I stood, slack jawed and stunned, forcing him to continue speaking.
“I wish to ask you to be my mate before Ewya, to spend your life with me, to mother my children, Y/N.”
I took in a long, deep breath. My hands were shaking and the tears had filled my eyes, I could no longer hold them back. It was so hard to find any appropriate response. I had spent years pining over Neteyam, and all day today sure that my chance was gone and I was going to have to watch him with someone else - which would have been a fate worse than death.
“Neteyam, I... of course, yes. I, I have always...” I stuttered and stammered as tears fell down my face.
Graciously, Neteyam stopped our needs for words by leaning down and pressing his soft lips to mine in a kiss I felt as if I had waited so long for.
My body felt on fire instantly, from the top of my head to the tips of my toes, and I wrapped my arms around his neck and leaned into him, deepening the kiss.
It felt like a long time before we pulled apart, both smiling like a couple of idiots.
“You are mine, Y/N,” Neteyam whispered, pressing his forehead to mine. “How could you have thought I would choose anyone else? I have always been yours.”
Tears spilled freely now, and I put my hands on either side of his face. “I feel foolish. I have always been yours, Neteyam.”
He hugged me tightly, pulling my body completely flush with mine, and I breathed him in deeply.
“Always.”
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maddyguru · 8 months
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geto suguru with a clingy little sister? she always likes being around him 24/7 and is absolutely spoiled rotten and needy!! ^__^
Coincidentally, i am also a clingy gf 😭
TW: incest, corruption?, Geto is 19, (this is edited I'm so sorry I WAS HALF ASLEEP WHEN I TYPED 18 💀) reader is obviously one year younger than him, Minors dni
Suguru wouldn't complain about you unlike other older brothers vent about their sisters.
He understands the need for her to be around him when he pays for a visit. She wouldn't let go of him even when mom told her to; she would hang onto his arms with her puppy eyes, telling oniichan not to go back to that school. But suguru always told her he need to.
So what did suguru do when she started to cry? He would kiss away her tears and plant their many special kiss on her lips, and brought her closer to his chest. That way she would feel how much he loves her.
She'd always end up sleeping in his bed throughout his stay. And suguru would brush her hair with his fingers when she's asleep, clinging onto him and breathing slowly. He doted on her everytime, and everytime you would blush and hold him tighter.
"baby, why don't you follow me one day? I'll take good care of you and we'll even have babies so you won't be lonely." He whispered, lightly caressing the skin on her arms as she sleep peacefully, and suguru always knew what she would say; it was so obvious, that he don't need tp convince her. If she follows him, he would treat her so good. And their children...
He could do it now if he want to. Put a baby or two in you as you sleep. You wouldn't blame niichan. You'd always agree with him, he sinisterly thought.
But it's too soon. He'd have to wait for the right time to make you a mommy, to fill your pussy with his baby milk. Fuck, even the thought of it has his cock completely hard.
It didn't take long for him to wake you up, asking for a special blowjob like you always did to him. You were excited to please him, to give him the pleasure. Instantly, your head is on his lap with a cute giggle as you stuff his cock in your mouth.
Yes, this will do for now. Having you suck his dick and filling your mouth with his special cream will do for now. Because someday, he'll put a baby in you and have you around him everytime. So you and him won't be apart anymore.
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