#{ Interactions x—. Morse A. }

[morsesnotes]

Granted it's been a minute since I watched S5, but I really got the impression Morse found Claudine's Manic Pixie Dream Girl energy progressively annoying anyway.

When he was acting as her gondolier all I could think was that he must be hating it but his romantic nature made him want to commit to the bit, lol.

[reidmarieprentiss]

No More Misunderstandings

Summary: You have a big crush on Spencer, everyone can see it except for Spencer himself.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Tech Analyst fem!reader

Category: fluff

Warnings/Includes: crushing, (un)requited feelings, bad communication, Spencer trying to flirt, gay Elle, Rossi not Gideon, happy ending, Elle is out but reader doesn't know

Word count: 9.4k

a/n: if this man ever asked me to hang out i would say yes in two seconds flat

main masterlist

Every day, you settled into the hum of computers and the soft glow of monitors that painted the walls of the BAU's technical analysis hub, affectionately dubbed the "bat cave" by those who knew it best. Your role as a tech analyst found you working side-by-side with the brilliant and bubbly Penelope Garcia, a woman whose personality was as colorful as her wardrobe. Despite the comfort of being shrouded in the semi-darkness of your tech-laden sanctuary, a certain type of light seemed to elude you—the spark of acknowledgment in Dr. Spencer Reid's deep, thoughtful eyes.

You harbored a crush so palpable that even the air in the room felt charged with your nervous energy whenever Spencer was near. However, your shy demeanor cloaked these feelings in a veil of secrecy that somehow, miraculously, Spencer himself never managed to pierce through. Everyone else on the team had noticed, from the knowing smiles of Derek Morgan to the gentle teasing of JJ, but Spencer remained blissfully unaware, his attention often drifting towards Elle Greenaway with an intensity that tugged painfully at your heart.

Penelope, ever the observant friend, never missed a beat. "Oh, honey," she would whisper, "it’s like you’re sending Morse code with those blushes and he’s living in a blackout."

Her words were gentle, tinged with humor and affection, yet each jest felt like a pinprick to your already tender sensibilities. Whenever Spencer visited the bat cave to discuss case details or gather information, your heart raced as you tried to provide him with everything he needed without tripping over your words or, heaven forbid, your own feet.

"Hey, Spencer," you would start, your voice a careful mixture of professionalism and the warmth you couldn’t keep at bay.

"Hello," he would respond, his eyes scanning the screens filled with data. His focus was razor-sharp, dissecting information with the same precision he used on everything but the emotional currents swirling around him.

Each interaction was a dance. You would inch towards openness, leaning in to catch a whiff of his cologne or to appreciate the subtle shift of his hair when he ran his fingers through it in concentration. But as soon as he glanced up, those hazel eyes like windows to an enigmatic soul, you would recoil slightly, cheeks aflame, words retreating as quickly as they had dared to emerge.

Later, as the screen showed live feeds of the team moving through their environments, Penelope would nudge you gently with her elbow, her voice low and teasing. "You know, if we had a dollar for every time you fumbled around that man, we could retire and buy an island in the Bahamas."

You’d offer a small, embarrassed laugh, grateful for the low lighting hiding the worst of your blush. "I just... I don’t know how to act around him, Penelope. What if he doesn’t..."

"Feel the same?" she'd finish for you, her tone softening. "Sweetie, the heart’s a funny creature. It doesn’t play by the rules of logic that Spencer loves so much. But who knows? Maybe one day, he’ll surprise you and actually look up from those case files and see what’s right in front of him."

The comfort in her voice was soothing, yet each day ended the same—with you watching Spencer, Spencer watching Elle, and Penelope watching over you, a guardian angel clad in technicolor, armed with an arsenal of jokes and just the right words to keep you smiling through the uncertainty.

—

The day had been rolling along as usual in the BAU's bat cave, the rhythmic clicking of keyboards providing a steady backdrop to the glow of computer screens. Penelope had excused herself for a quick bathroom break, leaving you alone amidst the towers of technology. Just as the door clicked shut behind her, the shrill ring of the phone sliced through the quiet, startling you slightly. Calls from the field were usually Penelope’s domain, her cheerful voice a soothing constant for the team. Today, it seemed, you would have to step into her shoes.

“Y/N speaking, what can I do for you?” Your voice wavered slightly, anxiety bubbling up as you prepared for your usual toggle through databases and security feeds.

When Spencer’s voice responded from the other end, a different kind of alertness prickled across your skin. “Hi, Y/N, we need to cross-reference known associates of the unsub with recent flight records. Can you pull up the lists and cross-check for any matches?”

Your heart thumped erratically, his voice weaving through the receiver like a familiar song that never failed to stir your soul. You tried to maintain a steady tone, hoping your voice didn’t betray the sudden nervousness that his presence, even just over the phone, incited. “Sure, Spencer, just a moment.”

As your fingers danced across the keyboard, the professional mask you wore each day slid comfortably into place. You were adept at your job, a fact that never faltered, even under the weight of your emotions. Quickly pulling up the necessary records, you began the process of cross-referencing, your mind briefly detached from the flutter in your stomach.

“Looks like there’s a match. Michael Davidson, on a flight from Atlanta to D.C. this morning,” you reported, a trace of pride threading through your words at the efficiency with which you’d located the information.

“Great, Y/N. Thanks,” Spencer’s voice came through, a hint of relief palpable even through the static of the connection. His appreciation, simple and straightforward, filled you with a warmth that went beyond professional satisfaction.

Hanging up, you let out a breath you’d been holding. Penelope chose that moment to breeze back into the room, her presence as effervescent as ever. Catching the tail end of your smile, she quirked an eyebrow playfully.

“Spill the beans, buttercup. You look like someone just handed you a golden ticket,” she teased, settling back into her chair.

“It was just Spencer needing some quick info,” you shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant as your heart continued to beat a staccato rhythm against your ribs.

Penelope’s smile widened, her eyes twinkling with unspoken understanding. “Oh, just Spencer, huh?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, trying to brush it off casually. “Derek would never betray you by talking to me,” you teased, hoping to steer the conversation away from your flustered feelings.

Penelope’s eyes sparkled even more as she winked at you. “Oh, he’s allowed to have side pieces, my love. I’m a generous goddess.”

You burst out laughing, your nervousness momentarily forgotten as Penelope’s playful banter eased your tension. “I’ll let him know you said that,” you shot back, turning back to your screen, trying to focus on anything other than the residual warmth from talking to Spencer.

Penelope, never one to let you off the hook easily, leaned in closer. “Should I let Spencer know he isn’t allowed to have any side pieces then?” she asked, winking at you again, her tone as sweet as honey but with a hint of mischief.

“Penelope!” you gasped, feeling your face flush all over again. The blush you thought had faded returned with a vengeance as you turned away, hoping she wouldn’t see just how red you were.

She laughed, clearly pleased with herself. “I’m just saying, babe. The boy’s got options, but I think we both know his best one is sitting right here.”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands as you let out a small, embarrassed laugh. “You’re impossible.”

“Just doing my part to make sure he doesn’t miss any signals,” Penelope sang, tapping her keyboard lightly, her grin as wide as ever. You couldn't help but smile too, secretly grateful for her teasing. After all, it was these moments that made the crush a little more bearable.

—

During one of Rossi’s famed pasta-making sessions, a relaxed atmosphere filled his spacious kitchen, with the rich aroma of tomato sauce simmering on the stove and the sounds of laughter mingling with soft Italian music playing in the background. Rossi, the consummate host, guided everyone through the steps of making the perfect pasta dough, his hands moving with the ease of long practice.

You found yourself stationed next to Spencer, who was diligently kneading a mound of fresh pasta dough. His hands, beautiful and dexterous, worked the dough with a precision that was mesmerizing. The veins on his hands stood out, accentuating every deliberate movement, and you couldn’t help but be captivated by the fluidity of his motions. It wasn’t just his intellect that drew you in; even his seemingly mundane physical actions had a way of catching your undivided attention.

Derek and JJ, who were partnered up on the other side of the kitchen island, caught your fixed gaze and shared an amused look between them. Derek’s smirk grew as he nudged JJ, whispering loud enough for you to overhear, “Looks like someone’s more interested in the handwork than the handiwork.”

JJ chuckled softly, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she joined in the teasing. “Yeah, I think Y/N’s planning on writing a thesis on the manual dexterity of certain geniuses.”

Flustered, you tore your eyes away from Spencer’s hands, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. You attempted to focus back on your own portion of dough, which had begun to stick to the counter more than it should. Spencer, oblivious to the exchange, looked up and noticed your struggle.

“Hey, you need to dust a bit more flour on the surface,” he said, his voice gentle, unaware of the reason behind your distraction. He reached over to sprinkle some flour on your dough and then on the countertop, his fingers briefly brushing against yours. The brief contact sent a pleasant jolt through you, further flustering you.

Rossi, ever the observant host, noticed the playful dynamic and decided to rescue you from your embarrassment. “Alright, everyone, let’s focus on the art of pasta! Y/N, why don’t you help me with the sauce?” he suggested, giving you a knowing smile as he handed you a wooden spoon.

As you helped Rossi stir the simmering sauce, carefully blending the herbs into the rich, aromatic mixture, you couldn’t help but cast furtive glances across the kitchen. There, Hotch had taken up the spot you vacated next to Spencer, now deeply engaged in the art of pasta making under Rossi’s enthusiastic instruction. While Hotch was methodically following Rossi’s guidance, Spencer’s attention occasionally drifted.

Across from them, Elle was rolling out her dough with a confident flourish, laughing at something Hotch had said. You caught Spencer's eyes as they met Elle's, a shared glance of amusement passing effortlessly between them. The ease of their silent communication was stark, their smiles syncing in a moment of private jest that seemed to exclude the world around them—including you.

That simple, silent exchange felt like a punch to the gut. The laughter and camaraderie around you suddenly seemed a bit dimmer, a bit more distant. It wasn’t just jealousy that twisted in your stomach—it was the aching realization of how much could be said in a single look when there was a real connection; a connection you feared might never form between Spencer and yourself.

You turned your attention back to the sauce, the spoon moving mechanically in your hand as Rossi continued to chat about the nuances of Italian cooking. He didn’t seem to notice your distraction, caught up in his culinary passion. But inside, your thoughts were swirling as tumultuously as the sauce you stirred.

Trying to shake off the sinking feeling, you focused on the positives—the laughter of your team, the comforting weight of the wooden spoon in your hand, the delicious smell that filled the kitchen. But despite the festive atmosphere, a part of you remained reserved, quietly nursing the tender hope that maybe, just maybe, one day Spencer would look at you with the same warmth and understanding he so effortlessly shared with Elle. Until then, you resolved to keep smiling, keep stirring, and keep hoping.

—

The BAU briefing room felt unusually empty without Penelope's vibrant presence, Elle's keen insights, and Derek's charismatic confidence filling the space. With them on vacation, the dynamic had shifted, and you found yourself stepping into roles that stretched beyond your usual behind-the-scenes expertise. The weight of Penelope's responsibilities now rested squarely on your shoulders, a challenge you accepted with both determination and a hint of trepidation.

As the team gathered for the briefing on the new case, Hotch turned to you. "Y/N, could you walk us through the case description and the current leads?" His voice was calm, authoritative, yet imbued with a supportive undertone that did little to ease the flutter of nerves in your stomach.

Nodding, you stood, remote in hand, feeling every pair of eyes in the room settle on you. Public speaking was not your greatest fear, but it was hardly your favorite endeavor—especially not with Spencer's intense gaze locked on you. It was as if his eyes were a pair of spotlights, illuminating not just your words but every minute reaction and emotion that flickered across your face.

As you began to outline the case, detailing the patterns and possible psychological motivations of the unsub, Spencer's scrutiny never wavered. His stare was not judgmental nor dismissive; rather, it was analytical, perhaps even a bit curious, as if he were trying to read the nuances of your presentation, to understand not just the facts but the person delivering them.

"Based on the geographical profiling and the behavioral pattern, we believe the unsub may be operating within a ten-mile radius of downtown," you explained, pointing to the map projected behind you. Your voice steadied as you delved deeper into the analysis, the familiar terrain of data and evidence providing a solid foundation beneath your initially shaky confidence.

Spencer's focus, rather than rattling you further, began to foster a sense of resolve within you. You found yourself speaking more confidently, your nerves tempered by the realization that this was still your team—your family in all but blood. They weren't here to judge; they were here to listen and to learn from what you had to offer.

As the briefing wrapped up, Hotch nodded in approval. "Good work, Y/N. Keep us posted on any updates from Garcia's systems until she returns."

You nodded, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. Glad it was over, you were already preparing to scamper back to your office when you heard a voice that sent a familiar shiver down your spine.

“Y/N?” Spencer's voice, calm yet inquisitive, caught your attention.

You spun around to face him, trying not to let your fluster show. “What’s up?”

“Can you put the map back up on the screen, please?” he asked, already standing by the large projection screen.

“Ye–yeah, of course.” Your fingers fumbled with the remote as you quickly reactivated the display, bringing the map back onto the screen.

“Here,” Spencer said, still not looking back at you. “Come look at this.”

You walked over to stand beside him, your eyes inadvertently drawn to his long fingers as they traced paths along the map, pointing out specific areas. The same hands that had mesmerized you earlier were now gliding over the screen, drawing you into his thought process.

Spencer started talking about the geographical profile, rattling off information with his typical rapid-fire brilliance. But what took you by surprise was how he spoke to you—not as the team’s tech analyst, but as if you were another profiler, someone he wanted to consult. This was new, and it left you momentarily stunned. He’d never done this before.

“Spencer?” you asked quietly, your voice barely audible in the spacious room. He hummed in response, still focused on the map as he tugged thoughtfully at his bottom lip—a gesture you’d come to adore and envy.

“Why are you asking me about this?” you continued, your curiosity growing along with your nerves. “Why not Rossi? Or Hotch?”

Spencer paused, finally turning to face you, his eyes filled with the same focused intensity he usually reserved for solving cases. “Because you see things differently,” he said softly. “You have a different perspective, and that’s valuable. Sometimes it’s not just about profiling. It’s about how we approach the data, and you… you understand patterns in a way that’s unique.”

His words caught you off guard, but they filled you with an unexpected warmth. You weren’t just the tech analyst who plugged in the data—they saw you, Spencer saw you, as part of the team, as someone with valuable insights.

Your heart fluttered in your chest as you held his gaze for a moment longer than you intended. “Thanks, Spencer,” you whispered, trying to suppress the blush creeping up your neck.

He smiled, a small but genuine curve of his lips, before turning back to the map. “Now, what do you think about this area here?” he asked, as if it was the most natural thing in the world for you two to be collaborating like this.

For once, you weren’t just lost in thoughts of him—you were part of the conversation, and it felt good.

After you felt you'd helped all you could, you excused yourself back to your office, ready to sink back into the more solitary part of your work. However, Spencer seemed to have other plans, as he walked alongside you, his footsteps synchronized with yours, indicating he wasn't quite done talking. His expression was one of mild concern, a usual precursor to his deep dives into various subjects.

As you walked, he continued to unravel his thoughts about the case, tying loose ends and circling back to previous points with a precision that was nothing short of impressive. It was typical of Spencer to thoroughly dissect each aspect of a case, often taking tangential routes in the conversation that surprisingly led right back to the main topic, a testament to his prodigious mind.

However, as engrossed as he was in discussing the case, his next words veered sharply from the professional to the personal, catching you completely off guard and momentarily stalling your mental gears. The shift was so sudden that it took a moment for you to register what he was actually asking, pulling you out of your case-focused mindset and into a more introspective space. This unexpected question not only showed his human side but also reminded you of the depth of his observational skills, not just in work but in personal matters as well.

"How is Felix, by the way?" Spencer asked, an innocently curious tilt to his head as he regarded you, his pace slowing slightly.

"What?" The name jolted you, an echo from a past chapter of your life you hadn’t opened in ages, and certainly not one you had expected Spencer to know anything about. You blinked, momentarily confused, trying to piece together the leap in conversation.

"Felix? How are they?" Spencer repeated, his interest seemingly piqued by your reaction—or perhaps just his natural inclination toward thorough understanding.

You paused, standing now in the doorway of your office, the background hum of computer servers providing a soft soundtrack to this unexpected moment. "Um, I don't know," you admitted, still trying to navigate the strange turn the conversation had taken.

"Oh, I’m so sorry, did you two separate?" Spencer’s tone was filled with genuine apology, his face reflecting concern.

You managed a small, somewhat awkward laugh, finding both the absurdity and the sudden intimacy of the conversation slightly overwhelming. "Well, yes. A long while ago." Your response came out lighter than you felt, the surprise of the question making your heart race for reasons other than your usual nervousness around Spencer.

As Spencer absorbed your response, his expression remained unreadable, a common trait when he was deep in thought or processing information. He nodded, perhaps filing away the conversation for later reflection, before excusing himself with a polite but somewhat distant farewell. His departure was quick, efficient, the way he typically transitioned back to work, yet it left a trail of questions in its wake.

You watched him go, a blend of relief and curiosity mingling in your thoughts. The inquiry into your personal life was uncharacteristic of Spencer, who usually maintained a strict boundary between professional and personal discussions, at least when it came to initiating such topics himself. The interaction lingered in your mind, an outlier in the usual pattern of your interactions.

"Maybe it's because Elle isn't here," you thought silently, turning back to your computer.

After leaving your office, Spencer quickly texted Elle to update her that you were no longer seeing Felix, contrary to their assumption. Elle replied enthusiastically with two thumbs up, urging him to ask you out soon or she would take the opportunity herself. 

—

Throughout the week, with Penelope, Elle, and Derek away, the dynamic at the BAU shifted noticeably. Spencer seemed to step out of his usual reserved demeanor, engaging more frequently, particularly with you. His attempts at conversation often appeared to teeter on the edge of something beyond mere professional interest, though it was so subtle that it often flew under your radar.

Tuesday morning, Spencer leaned against the counter, watching you struggle with the temperamental coffee machine that had decided today was the day to revolt. "You know, statistically, manual coffee presses have a lower failure rate compared to electric ones," he commented, a slight quirk to his lips.

You glanced at him, chuckling lightly, "Is that so? Maybe I should switch, then."

"Yeah, and they make better coffee. Maybe I could show you how to use one sometime?" His tone was casual, but there was a tentative note to it, almost hopeful.

As the coffee machine finally sputtered to life, producing a somewhat decent cup of coffee, Spencer’s offer lingered in the air, subtly altering the atmosphere between you. His suggestion about the manual coffee press had been light, almost playful, but it carried an undercurrent of personal interest that left you unexpectedly flustered. Despite this, you masked your reaction with a casual nod, trying to maintain an even keel.

"Sure, I could always use better coffee," you responded, your voice steady despite the slight quickening of your heartbeat. You focused on fixing your coffee, adding just the right amount of cream and sugar, using the mundane task as a moment to collect your thoughts.

Spencer watched you for a moment, perhaps sensing the shift in your demeanor but respecting the boundary you subtly enforced with your nonchalant reply. His smile was gentle, not pushing further, as he too turned his attention back to preparing his own drink.

Wednesday at lunch you sat in the break room flipping through case files, Spencer slid into the seat across from you with his own lunch—a homemade sandwich seemingly crafted with meticulous care. "I read somewhere that sharing meals can enhance group bonding and individual rapport," he began, looking directly at you with an earnest expression.

You looked up, smiling at the factoid, you loved hearing Spencer talk. He was always so endearing. "That sounds about right. Food does bring people together."

"Maybe we could test that theory. There's a new Thai place nearby that’s supposed to be great," he suggested, his voice smooth but slightly hurried.

"That would be an interesting experiment," you agreed, your thoughts inadvertently glossing over Spencer's subtle personal invitation. Instead, your mind wandered to the social dynamics of the team, or perhaps more pointedly, the possibility of Spencer going out with Elle without having to extend a direct invitation—an idea that stoked a twinge of jealousy, burning in your stomach like an ugly green monster. 

Spencer nodded, his expression shifting subtly as he detected the undercurrent of your thoughts, interpreting them as disinterest in a personal outing. He tried to mask any hint of disappointment, maintaining his typical composed demeanor. Internally, however, he wrestled with the sting of what felt like another missed connection, another attempt at reaching out quietly rebuffed.

"It would be a great way to explore some new flavors... maybe just the two of us first, to see if it’s worth recommending to the team?" His tone was measured, carefully modulating between casual and sincere, revealing his hope that this might pave the way to a more personal connection between the two of you.

Despite his clear wording, your mind twisted his intentions, clouded by the assumption that his ultimate aim was to impress Elle upon her return. This idea gnawed at you, the thought of being potentially used as a stepping stone in Spencer’s strategy to engage Elle more personally. It tainted the sincerity you might have otherwise perceived in his proposal.

"Yeah, that sounds like a good plan," you responded, trying to mask your feelings with a nod and a polite smile. "Testing it out sounds sensible... then we can tell Elle and the rest if it's good." Your voice carried a hint of forced cheerfulness as you inadvertently redirected the focus back to Elle, reinforcing your misinterpretation of Spencer's motives.

Spencer noticed the subtle shift in your tone, the slight stiffness in your smile. He paused, a flicker of confusion crossing his features as he tried to gauge whether his message had been misunderstood. "Yes, of course," he agreed, his voice faltering slightly as he picked up on your emphasis on Elle. Disappointment edged into his heart, sensing a barrier he hadn't anticipated—one that perhaps wasn't his to cross just yet.

He nodded slowly, offering a gentle smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I'll send you the details later then," Spencer added, stepping back to give you space, his mind busy piecing together where the conversation had veered off track.

Thursday while you were digging through old case files in the archives, Spencer wandered in, ostensibly looking for a book. He lingered by your side, helping to shift the heavy tomes. "You know, there's this book on cognitive science I think you'd really like. It talks about pattern recognition and emotional intelligence in ways I think you'd find fascinating," he offered, his fingers brushing against yours as he handed you a different file.

"Sounds intriguing," you responded, your attention still partially on the file in your hands. The hint of a smile played at the corners of your mouth, touched by the realization that Spencer was not only paying attention to your interests but was actively thinking about ways to engage with you on a more personal level.

"I could lend it to you. We could discuss it over coffee?" Spencer's suggestion came with a hopeful undertone, as gentle and tentative as the expression in his eyes.

Your reaction, however, was immediate and unexpected—a sudden choke on your spit as his words caught you off guard. A brief fit of coughing ensued, and Spencer's concern was quick to surface. He reached out instinctively, placing a comforting hand on your back with a gentle touch. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice filled with worry.

The unexpected contact made you jolt, a reflexive response to the sudden intimacy of his touch. Realizing your reaction, Spencer quickly withdrew his hand, a flash of disappointment crossing his features as he stepped back, giving you space.

"Yeah, I'm fine, sorry," you managed to laugh it off, though your cheeks burned with embarrassment. You tried to smooth over the moment, still recovering from the unexpected cough and the even more unexpected contact.

Spencer's response was gentle, a soft nod accompanying his words. "It's okay, I'll, uh, see you upstairs," he said, stepping back with a hesitant smile. His decision to not press the coffee invitation further reflected his respect for your comfort, but inwardly, he felt he might have missed his opportunity for the day.

As he turned to leave, the brief contact and your embarrassed reaction replayed in his mind, leaving him wondering about the right approach to take next time. His intentions had been straightforward, but the execution hadn't gone as smoothly as he hoped. The way your eyes had widened, the laughter that followed the cough—it all suggested a mix of emotions that he couldn't quite decipher.

Watching him walk away, you felt a pang of regret. His retreat made you realize that your reaction might have been misinterpreted as discomfort, rather than the surprise and nervous excitement you actually felt. The idea of discussing a book over coffee with Spencer genuinely appealed to you, and you wished you could convey that without the awkwardness of the moment overshadowing it.

Gathering your thoughts, you considered reaching out to him later to clarify your interest, maybe even suggest a specific day for that coffee. The day hadn't gone as either of you planned, but it wasn't over yet, and perhaps there was still a chance to turn it around.

Friday afternoon as you both waited for the elevator, Spencer tried again, this time a bit more directly. "Did you know that the probability of meeting someone compatible is surprisingly high within work environments?"

You raised an eyebrow, trying to steady the rapid thumping of your heart. "Really now? I guess we’re in the right place, then."

"Yes, exactly," Spencer agreed, a bit more eagerly than you expected. "It’s like... finding the right piece in a puzzle."

"Like solving a case?" you asked, your voice shrinking with uncertainty, afraid that, once again, he had someone else in mind—someone who fit into his world effortlessly, maybe a profiler like Elle.

"Yeah," he smiled warmly, his eyes soft as they focused on you. "Just like solving a case."

Your heart cracked a little at his words. You interpreted the metaphor differently, convinced he was searching for someone like the other brilliant profilers on the team—someone you believed you could never be. With a forced smile, you said quietly, "Well, looks like you need a profiler-shaped puzzle piece then."

Spencer’s brow furrowed slightly, a flicker of confusion crossing his face as you stepped into the elevator. He stood there, frozen, not understanding the weight behind your words or why you seemed so distant.

As the elevator doors slid shut, he replayed the conversation in his mind, his heart sinking as he realized something wasn’t connecting. He had been trying to tell you, in his own way, that he was interested in you, that you were the piece he was talking about. But somehow, despite his best efforts, the message kept slipping through your fingers. Why weren’t you getting it? Why did every attempt seem to fall short?

Spencer watched the elevator descend, a sinking feeling settling in his chest. He had been so certain of his feelings for you, and yet, with every attempt, it felt like they drifted further away, lost in the unspoken misunderstandings between you.

—

When the freshly bronzed trio returned from their vacation, Spencer, seemingly on edge, wasted no time in seeking out Elle, his face etched with a mix of hope and frustration.

“So? Did you do it?” Elle asked eagerly as soon as they were within speaking distance, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. “Did she say yes?”

Spencer’s response was laden with disappointment. “Every time I try to ask her out, she thinks it’s a friendly suggestion, or—or she even mentioned you one time like I was thinking about you!” He ran his hand through his hair in exasperation, clearly puzzled by the recurring miscommunication.

Elle couldn’t help but laugh slightly, though her lips were closed, trying to mask her amusement at the situation. Spencer, on the other hand, whined in annoyance, “What?” He genuinely didn’t understand what he was missing.

With a fond smile, Elle prodded further, “Reid, how did you ask? And what did she say?” Her voice was gentle, coaxing him to unpack the details.

Spencer recapped all the moments from the past week—the coffee machine incident, the lunch invitation, the casual chat in the archives, and the awkward elevator conversation. Each retelling showcased his subtle, cerebral approach to what he thought were clear invitations.

“Oh, boy genius,” Elle said teasingly once he finished, her tone light but her words cutting to the heart of the issue. “I think I see the problem here.”

“What? What is it?” Spencer asked, desperation and confusion in his voice.

Elle placed her hand on his arm, a gesture meant to be comforting but one that did not escape your notice, intensifying the ache in your heart. “She thinks you’re interested in me!” Elle revealed, her insight sharp.

“Why would she think that?” Spencer asked, his bewilderment evident. The connection between his actions and your perception seemed utterly foreign to him.

Elle’s explanation was straightforward, “Because, Spencer, every time you make an attempt, it’s so subtle and wrapped in layers of intellect that it’s easy for her to miss the romantic intent.”

Her words seemed to pierce through the fog of confusion surrounding Spencer. The realization that his attempts at expressing romantic interest were getting lost in translation—or rather, lost in his own intellectual approach—was a revelation. He nodded slowly, the gears turning as he processed this new insight.

“Plus, if she’s mentioning me and no one else, she must think you’re looking for ways to take me out!” Elle added, emphasizing her point with a light chuckle, though her eyes remained sympathetic to Spencer’s plight.

The weight of Elle’s explanation settled heavily on Spencer. It dawned on him how his interactions, though well-intentioned, might appear to others, especially to you. His style, inherently analytical and often indirect, had inadvertently sent the wrong signals, steering your thoughts towards a narrative where he was interested in Elle rather than clarifying his feelings for you.

This misunderstanding struck a chord within him. Spencer had always prided himself on his communication skills when it came to the nuances of unsubs and case theories. Yet, here he was, stumped by personal emotions and interpersonal communications that veered off course.

“Okay, so... I’ve been too subtle,” Spencer acknowledged, almost to himself as much as to Elle. “And she’s misreading the subtlety as disinterest—or worse, interest directed at someone else.”

Elle nodded, squeezing his arm gently. “Exactly, Spencer. You’re thinking like a profiler trying to decipher hidden meanings, but sometimes, directness is key. Maybe it’s time to just tell her how you feel, plainly and clearly. No puzzles, no hints.”

“But—but what if she’s not interested?” Spencer stammered, the creeping sense of insecurity wrapping around him like a heavy blanket. His confidence from earlier was starting to erode. “I mean, she did turn me down on multiple occasions,” he added, his voice softening with self-doubt.

Elle sent him a playful glare, her expression one of disbelief. “Be serious, Reid,” she said, her tone firm but affectionate. “Everyone here can see that she’s into you. Ask anyone.”

Without giving Spencer a chance to stop her, Elle raised her voice, calling across the room, “Hey, JJ!”

Spencer's eyes widened in panic, his face flushing. “Elle! No!” His voice cracked as he tried to stop her, but it was too late.

JJ approached the two of them, a curious smile on her face as she looked between Spencer and Elle. “What’s up, you guys?” she asked, her easy going demeanor not yet aware of the situation she was about to walk into.

“Do you think Y/N is into anyone? Should we set her up?” Elle asked with a mischievous smirk, clearly enjoying Spencer’s discomfort.

JJ’s reaction was immediate—she burst into laughter, glancing between Elle and the now-mortified Spencer. “Are you kidding?!” she laughed, unable to believe the question was even being asked.

“No! Do you have anyone in mind?” Elle pushed, her smirk widening as she kept the act going.

Spencer looked like he wanted to sink into the floor, his mortification plain as he stood there frozen. His mind raced, desperate to find a way to steer the conversation away from himself. But JJ, still chuckling, fixed her gaze directly on Spencer, her expression turning to amused confusion.

“Spencer? Duh! She’s basically in love with you!” JJ declared, her blunt response leaving no room for misunderstanding.

Spencer blinked in disbelief, his mind stumbling over the directness of JJ's words. "W-What?" he stammered, his heart pounding in his chest.

JJ just shook her head, laughing softly. “Reid, it's so obvious. Trust me, you should ask her out.”

"Right," Spencer exhaled heavily, the weight of his nerves tangible in that single word. His eyes followed JJ as she walked away, her knowing smile and shake of her head a clear sign that she was rooting for him.

Elle, observing the entire interaction, turned back to Spencer with a look of determination. “Do you believe me now? You just need to be blunt,” she said firmly, reinforcing the advice with her unwavering gaze. Her stance was one of staunch support, wanting to push Spencer past his habitual overthinking.

Spencer nodded, feeling a bit more fortified by the support of his colleagues. Elle’s insistence on being blunt was exactly the nudge he needed. It was clear that subtlety had not served him well in this arena, and it was time for a change in strategy.

—

Throughout the week, Spencer made several more attempts to ask you out, each time with a bit more directness than the last, but somehow the message never quite landed. Each time deepening his frustration and your oblivious disappointment.

Spencer joined you at the coffee machine again, a site of many a casual encounter but today, he was armed with determination. "I was thinking," he began, carefully measuring his words, "that maybe you and I could try that new café downtown this Saturday."

You smiled, stirring your coffee absentmindedly, your mind on a deadline you were close to missing. "That sounds like a great break from work. It’ll be good to get the team out and about. Should I send an email to everyone?"

Spencer’s heart sank a little. "Uh, well, I meant more like a... never mind. Yes, let’s get everyone involved," he conceded, hiding his disappointment.

In the midst of discussing a particularly complex case, Spencer tried to weave in a personal invitation as naturally as he could. "And after we wrap this up, maybe you’d like to join me for dinner? I know a place that’s quiet, great for discussing... cases."

You nodded, focused intensely on the case details. "Oh yeah! I already told Pen I’d grab dinner with her after the case, do you want to join us?"

Spencer’s heart sank just a bit as he adjusted his glasses, a gesture that had become a telltale sign of his internal resignation. His intention of a quiet dinner, meant to create a private space for you and him, vanished with your invitation to Penelope. Still, he managed a smile, not wanting his disappointment to show.

“Sure, that sounds great,” Spencer replied, trying to keep his tone light and cheerful. Inside, however, he was strategizing his next move, wondering how he could ever convey his feelings without the constant backdrop of the team.

As the day progressed, his mind kept circling back to the conversation. He appreciated your inclusiveness—always making sure no one felt left out, a trait he admired deeply. Yet, he couldn’t help but wish for a moment where it could just be the two of you, away from the dynamics and distractions of the team.

As you both walked to the parking lot after a long day, Spencer decided to be as clear as he could. "I enjoy spending time with you," he said earnestly. "I was hoping we could maybe go out this weekend, just you and me. What do you think?"

You paused, turning to face him with a puzzled smile, unaware of the mounting frustration behind his calm demeanor. "Sure. What do you want to do? I heard of a nightclub that's supposed to have a disco on Saturdays, we could see if everyone is interested?”

Spencer’s patience, worn thin from repeated attempts, finally faltered. “That doesn’t really sound like my scene,” he replied, a note of desperation creeping into his voice as he motioned between the two of you. “Could we go somewhere more subdued? Just us?”

The simplicity of his request, paired with the intensity of his gesture, made you pause. "You want to hang out? With just me?" you asked, a hint of confusion lacing your words.

“Yes!” Spencer exclaimed, his voice echoing a bit louder than he intended in the quiet space between conversations around you. His hands were in the air, a gesture of his exasperation and earnestness. Realizing how his reaction might have seemed, he quickly lowered his hands and softened his tone. “I mean, yes, I would like to spend time with you. Just us. Maybe somewhere quiet where we can talk. Just... talk.”

Your heart was beating so fast you could barely contain it, “Just the two of us?” 

The realization struck you fully now, the words "just the two of us" hanging in the air, tinged with possibility. Spencer nodded, his eyes earnest and hopeful, watching for your reaction.

"Yes, just the two of us," he confirmed, his voice steadier now, filled with a quiet intensity. His gaze never wavered from yours, as if trying to convey all the sincerity he felt directly into your heart.

Your heart raced with the understanding of what he was asking, the implications of this simple request suddenly reshaping the narrative you had constructed in your mind about his feelings. The thought that Spencer, with his brilliant mind and shy demeanor, wanted to spend time alone with you, not for a case discussion or team outing but for something personal, sent a thrill of excitement mixed with nervous anticipation through you.

"Yeah, Spencer," you grinned, your heart still racing but excitement slowly overtaking your nerves. "That sounds nice. Um, I'm free Saturday."

"Saturday works for me," Spencer nodded, his own smile broadening with quiet confidence. "I'll call you?"

You nodded quickly, almost too eagerly, but you didn’t care. "Yeah, mhm, that sounds perfect."

For a moment, you both stood there, a shared anticipation buzzing in the air between you, neither wanting to break the connection just yet. When Spencer finally turned to leave, you found yourself smiling uncontrollably, the prospect of Saturday lingering in your mind, a warmth spreading through you that hadn't been there before.

—

Your excitement about the upcoming date with Spencer bubbled within you, yet you chose to keep it close to your chest. The thrill of it all felt so fragile, like a dream you didn’t want to jinx by sharing too soon with the rest of the team. This cautious optimism marked your days, turning ordinary moments into a series of hopeful glances at the calendar as Saturday approached.

Meanwhile, Spencer found himself seeking counsel from Elle, who was all too eager to lend her expertise, not just on potential date activities but on the more intimate aspects of dating as well, particularly women. Knowing Spencer’s limited experience—his only kiss having been with Lila Archer during a particularly intense case—Elle took it upon herself to offer some advice.

“Okay, Spencer, listen,” Elle began, her tone both serious and sisterly. “If the moment feels right and you think you want to kiss her, make sure you read her signals. It’s all about mutual understanding and respect, right?”

Spencer nodded, absorbing every word. Elle continued, “Make eye contact, see how she responds. If she seems receptive, maybe lean in halfway and let her meet you the rest of the way. It’s a two-way street.”

“Halfway,” Spencer repeated, mentally noting the advice. Elle’s directness and her willingness to discuss these details without any embarrassment provided him with a strange comfort.

“And, Reid, just be yourself. You’re a great guy. Let that show,” Elle added, giving him an encouraging pat on the shoulder.

Spencer felt nerves and gratitude at Elle’s advice, it was straightforward and practical, and helped ground him. He trusted her judgment, appreciating her sharing of her personal experience, especially when it came to navigating relationships—something he found infinitely more complex than the most puzzling cases.

—

The phone call on Saturday morning added to the bubbling excitement of the upcoming date. Spencer’s voice was clear and a tad nervous, which you found endearing. He promised a unique experience and asked you not to wear black, a request that piqued your curiosity and set your mind racing with possibilities. What kind of place would require such a specific dress code? The mystery only heightened your anticipation.

You quickly texted him your address, along with a playful note about your curiosity regarding the attire guidelines. Spencer replied with a simple smiley face, keeping the details of the date under wraps, which intrigued you even more.

As you prepared for the evening, you chose an outfit that was comfortable yet charming, avoiding black as instructed. The time leading up to Spencer’s arrival seemed to crawl by, each minute stretching longer than the last. You found yourself glancing at your reflection, adjusting your hair, and double-checking everything, ensuring you were ready when he arrived.

Finally, the sound of a car pulling up snapped you out of your reverie. Glancing out the window, you saw Spencer stepping out of his car, looking around with a nervous excitement that matched your own. 

As you stepped outside, your nerves fluttered slightly, but your smile was genuine when you saw Spencer waiting by his car. Waving shyly, you greeted him, "Hi, Spencer."

Spencer looked up, his eyes lighting up as he took in your appearance. "Y/N, you look great," he breathed out, his compliment wrapped in a warm smile that seemed to ease some of the tension between you.

"Thanks, I like your cardigan," you replied, noting the soft, well-worn cardigan he wore that somehow made him look even more approachable and endearing.

His smile widened at the compliment, and he seemed to relax a bit more. "Thanks! It's an old favorite," he admitted, holding the car door open for you. 

As you both stepped into the cozy, softly-lit space filled with the gentle sounds of purring and the occasional meow, Spencer immediately began sharing interesting facts about cats. “Did you know that ancient Egyptians considered cats sacred and even had a goddess named Bastet who was depicted as a lioness?” he said, looking into your eyes as you walked past a playful tabby.

Your response was a mix of admiration and amusement. “I didn’t know you were an expert on ancient cultures too,” you teased, feeling comfort and excitement as Spencer chuckled softly, clearly enjoying the opportunity to share his knowledge.

While playing with a particularly friendly cat, Spencer used the opportunity to flirt in his unique way. He gently lifted the cat, holding it out towards you. “It’s interesting how animals can facilitate social interactions, isn’t it? For instance, it's been found that people are more likely to engage in conversations in the presence of animals. They act as social lubricants.”

You laughed, reaching out to pet the cat and feeling a bit flustered by his proximity and the way he looked at you when talking about social dynamics. “Is that your subtle way of telling me you needed a furry wingman for our date?”

Spencer grinned, a hint of mischief in his eyes. “Maybe, but it seems to be working, doesn’t it?”

“I don't know, say lubricant again,” you teased. Spencer's grin widened at your playful challenge, and the atmosphere between you sparked with a shared humor that made the moment light and enjoyable. 

He leaned in slightly, adopting a mock-serious tone, "Lubricant," he repeated, emphasizing the word, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

You laughed even harder, your eyes bright with amusement. "Hearing you say 'lubricant' is so funny!"

Spencer, caught up in your joy, couldn’t help but laugh along. “Why?” he asked, his own grin wide as your laughter proved infectious.

"It’s just... it can be a dirtier word," you giggled, trying to explain through your laughter. "And I can’t imagine our resident genius using the word lubricant!"

Spencer's laughter joined yours, ringing out genuinely as he caught the playful jab. The lightness of the moment brought a relaxed glow to his features. "I assure you, the application of the word was purely scientific," he teased back, still chuckling. 

The café around you seemed to buzz with the warmth of your shared amusement, creating an intimate bubble amidst the quiet hum of other patrons and the soft padding of cat paws. "I suppose," Spencer continued, his smile lingering, "I should be more careful with my vocabulary around you. You're giving me a whole new perspective on language."

Your laughter gradually subsided into a series of light chuckles, but your eyes were bright with delight. "I think I like this side of you, Spencer," you said, a playful sincerity in your voice. "It’s nice to see you in a different light, not just as the genius profiler but also someone who can joke around about...lubricants."

Spencer's eyes softened, clearly touched by your words. "I'm glad," he said softly, his voice carrying a note of appreciation. "It’s not often I get to show this side, and I’m happy to share it with you." 

As you observed the cats seemingly gravitate towards Spencer, who seemed both amused and delighted by their attention, an idea sparked in your mind. It was the perfect segue into a lighthearted flirtation, mixing your shared love for animals with a touch of mystical charm.

"You know, it’s said that animals, especially cats, have a keen sense of good and bad," you started, watching Spencer's reaction as a particularly fluffy cat chose his lap as its new throne. "They're often drawn to people with good auras. I guess they must sense something pretty great about you."

Spencer looked up, his expression a mix of surprise and pleasure at your comment. He laughed softly, a sound that warmed you to the core. "Is that so? Well, I must be on the right track then. Maybe they sense my excellent choice in company for this evening," he replied smoothly, his gaze locking with yours in a moment charged with a gentle intensity as a cat nuzzled its way into your lap as well.

Your heart fluttered slightly at his words, and you smiled, feeling a blush rise to your cheeks. "Oh, so we’re using cat behavior to gauge our decisions now?" you teased back, leaning in a little closer. "In that case, I think they’re on to something because I’m feeling pretty good about my choice too."

Spencer’s smile widened, and he reached over to gently nudge a playful kitten back onto the table, his actions thoughtful and tender. "I'll take that as a high compliment, coming from someone who clearly knows her way around cats and their mysterious ways," he said, his voice soft but filled with an underlying warmth that suggested he was as affected by the exchange as you were.

As the evening wound down, and the café began to prepare for closing, Spencer drove you home. The conversation flowed effortlessly, and you found yourself sharing little anecdotes from your childhood, while Spencer listened intently, always eager to learn more about you.

Before you knew it, you were standing in front of your home. The end of the evening had come too quickly, a sentiment you both silently acknowledged as you lingered at the doorstep, not quite ready to say goodbye.

"Y/N...I had a really nice time today," he said, his voice carrying a warmth that seemed to wrap the evening in a perfect close.

"Me too, Spencer, thank you for asking me. I was kind of shocked," you admitted, your words sincere and open. The evening had unfolded beautifully, but part of you had still been wrestling with the disbelief that it was all really happening.

"Really? Why?" Spencer's curiosity was piqued, his gaze intent on you, wanting to understand more.

You smiled shyly, a nervous habit kicking in as you rubbed behind your ear. "I just... liked you for so long, I never thought you were interested in me too," you confessed, the words tumbling out more easily than you'd expected. The truth had been a quiet companion for so long, and saying it aloud to Spencer felt both freeing and terrifying.

Spencer's expression softened even further, a gentle understanding coloring his features. "Y/N, I’ve been trying to ask you out for two weeks," he confessed. His chuckle was light, trying to ease the tension.

Spencer's revelation brought a mix of relief and amusement. "Really? I had no idea you were trying," you replied, a smile breaking across your face, reflecting both the surprise and joy of the moment.

He nodded, a bit of sheepishness showing through his usual composed demeanor. "Yes, it turns out I'm not as skilled in expressing personal interest as I am with criminal profiles," he admitted, his light laughter mingling with yours.

The air between you felt lighter, a shared understanding dawning that, despite the initial miscommunications, there was a genuine and mutual interest. "Well, I'm glad you kept trying," you said, your tone sincere. "And I'm sorry I didn't pick up on it sooner. I guess I was just scared to get my hopes up."

Spencer reached across the small space between you, his hand hesitating just a moment before gently taking yours. "No more missed signals, okay? Let's promise to be more straightforward with each other," he suggested, his gaze steady and reassuring.

You nodded, squeezing his hand in agreement, feeling a warmth spread through you at the contact. "It's a deal," you responded, your heart feeling both settled and exhilarated by the new promise laid between you.

“So... in honor of being straightforward…” Spencer began, his voice soft but steady, a shy smile playing on his lips. He stepped closer to you, his eyes searching yours, a quiet vulnerability in his gaze. Gently, he took both of your hands in his, his touch warm and reassuring. “Can I kiss you?”

Your heart raced, the moment feeling both tender and surreal. The way he held your hands, the genuine care in his voice—it was everything you'd hoped for, wrapped in Spencer’s uniquely thoughtful way. You felt yourself nod before you even spoke, your breath catching slightly. “Yes,” you whispered, smiling softly, your eyes never leaving his.

Spencer’s smile deepened with relief and excitement. Slowly, he leaned in, his movements deliberate and gentle, giving you every moment to close the gap as well. When your lips finally met, it was soft, sweet, and full of the promise that had been building between you for so long. The world seemed to pause, leaving just the two of you in that quiet, intimate moment, finally aligned in your shared feelings.

When you pulled back, there was a brief silence before you both laughed lightly, the tension melting away completely. "That was… nice," Spencer said, his voice low, his smile radiating warmth. 

"Yeah, it really was," you agreed, still feeling the butterflies in your chest as you held onto his hands just a little tighter. 

“Oh, and for the record,” Spencer chuckled softly, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he took in your reaction, “I don’t like Elle—romantically, of course. She’s my best friend.”

Your face flushed with sudden embarrassment, realizing he'd caught on to your earlier assumptions. “Oh, I—well, uh...” you stammered, struggling to find the right words.

Spencer's smile remained soft and reassuring. “It’s okay, Y/N,” he said warmly, squeezing your hands gently. “Elle is super gay, not sure how you missed that, and... I really like you.”

His words, so genuine and direct, melted away the last bit of tension you’d been holding onto. You laughed lightly, the awkwardness dissolving into relief. “Well, that’s good to know,” you said with a grin, finally allowing yourself to fully relax into the moment.

Spencer's grin mirrored yours as he added, “I just wanted to clear that up. No more misunderstandings.” His gaze softened as he looked at you, the weight of unspoken feelings now out in the open. 

“No more misunderstandings,” you agreed, feeling the warmth of his words and the certainty that everything between you was finally where it should be.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

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[luvt0kki]

INTERLUDE | OPENING SEQUENCE

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧ s.w.m masterlist ୨୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ taglist ⋆ ˚｡⋆ ୨୧

This scene that locked me up The sequence that's like forever Stay for me, stay for me, stay for me I can't get used to it, used to it, used to it

🎧: Opening Sequence - TXT

previous | INTERLUDE | next

pairings: ot8 x f!reader (san x reader)

w.c : 10k ( im sorry for any errors)

cw: mature, ,minors do not interact, nsfw, reader is afab, slow burn, polyamory, smut , bittersweet, angst, MC's background is inspired by Black Widow's background with the Red Room, reader is called sweet heart/baby, hints of abuse/manipulation, mc’s past, mention of their training days, injuries, scars, loss of virginity, first time, very very very longgggggg chapter I’m sorry

REMINDER: my works do not represent the irl members in any way, this is purely a work of FICTION.

a/n : surprise? SPECIAL CHAPTER!!!! I hope you guys like this one. I didn’t initially plan to write this but after posting chapter 005 I wanted to write something different or something else and this came about. I hope you guys like. Thank you for being so patient with me 🥺💗

DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE, OR OTHERWISE REPURPOSE ANY OF MY WORK HERE. I DO NOT NOR WILL ALLOW IT.

“How long do you think before they find us here?”

The young assassin paused, his heart dropping. Never has he ever heard you, YOU, out of all the graduated students of the Academy, sound like this.

You were always so sure of yourself but now, he was hearing a completely different person yet so familiar. When was the last time he heard you like this? He was quick to recall it and that ache in his chest began to feel as if he was burning from the inside. This small, unsure, and weak voice belonged to the little girl he grew up with before the academy changed everything and he never heard you like this again.

Til today.

He was scared to turn around.

If your own resolve was shaking then the situation was worse than he thought.

San shook his head and continued to look around the padded room looking for any signs of a possible escape. Even if you two did get out, you two would have nothing but your knives and your fists.

“No one’s going to come for us, aren’t they Sannie?” You choked out his nickname so softly, that he felt his heart broke. “At the end of the day…” you went on, the fears of a little girl that San had failed to protect breaking through the facade the Academy molded and chiseled you in. “I’m just one of their many weapons. The other girls in the Academy…they’re good. Better. I will be of no use soon.”

San’s hands were beginning to tremble uncontrollably as he reloaded the gun. You were the Academy’s proudest creation, you had set the standard. Though those things were true, these were your fears. They were just as real.

“We’ve sent a Morse code to them. They’ll find us soon. They won’t let you go as easily.” San swallowed the lump in his throat trying to maintain composure and not let the impending doom of you both get to him.

What made him sadder was that he was right. The Academy won’t let you go. You were chained to them in a way, he wasn’t.

“Sannie…”

They could afford to lose him. He was a part of the top three of those who graduated with him but he wasn’t the first of the batch.

“They’ll come for you.”

The room that confined you two was dim. The skylight let some moonlight shine through to illuminate what it could in the darkness you two were submerged in. Did your captors really believe the Academy would buy their ransom for two of their assassins? They would come with a brute force that would leave them nothing in ashes. If no one came for the two of you, they’ll kill you both or worse, sell the two of you off to the market.

San would kill them before they even thought of selling you as a slave.

“Sannie, it’s cold.”

His composure broke then.

Gone was the weapon the Academy created.

Without any hesitation, San went to where you had been sitting (on the white sheet mattress in the room they threw you two in) then pulled you onto his lap with his arms wrapped around you. Your skin was cold to the touch and his desperation to hold you only grew. He cradled you so gently in his arms, scared that if he embraced you tighter you’d shatter.

“It’s going to be okay,” he whispered, resting his chin on the top of your head as he kept his gaze up, fighting back tears and the urge to press his lips on the the crown of your head. “I’m here. I'm not going anywhere.”

You were taught to never take anyone’s words seriously. Always doubt them, they once said. Doubt them until they prove it because you can never know what they mean and yet, you believed every word San said.

Every promise he has ever made, he kept them. Everything he said he would do, he did. But even if he didn’t prove to be a man of his word, the part of you that you pushed in the dark, would believe him blindly.

His strong arms held you in a way you never knew you needed to be held and the warmth of his body was giving you, melted away the armor you didn’t have the luxury to take off.

“Sannie,”

He loved it when you called him Sannie. Since you two met, he was your Sannie. If you asked him now, just once, to be yours, he’d be yours forever.

“Yeah?” He caressed your back in gentle circles, taking note of how your shivering lessened and your breathing calmed.

You didn’t continue your thought. It got stuck in your throat. How could you possibly say what you wanted to? Instead, you opted to bury your face into his neck. You’ll think about it for a bit…because what if it was the wrong time to say it?

“Can I hold your hand?”

Your voice was such a soft whisper, that San almost didn’t hear it. It was like you were embarrassed to have even asked, even though he’s held your hand so many times in secret during your training days when it was an evaluation day.

San hummed in response and carefully, still cradling you in his lap with your head leaning on his chest, slipped his hand with yours. He stared at your hands as he did. His hand was bigger than yours and his heart dropped when he realized you had taken off your gloves. Such delicate hands were bruised at the knuckles and hands that only ever touched or brushed him so gently.

He knew in your head you could only see how stained your arms were with blood.

“Your hands are cold,” he pointed out, pouting a little at the fact and like he did when you were younger, he took both your hands and brought them close to his mouth to breathe warmth into them.

You felt your heart thump particularly strong in your chest. The feelings you’ve had for San that you had hidden away because you were told you could never be loved nor love for you were only a weapon, returned.

Because you are a weapon, you would only ever hurt the people you love.

“How are you so warm?” You chuckled, falling into a comfort you denied yourself for so long. “If I remember correctly, you were such a small petite thing when we were younger. I was afraid you wouldn’t make it past the selection.”

He laughed softly at the memory. “I didn’t want to be left behind. I need to be with you no matter what.” He let himself speak freely and honestly, letting his hands warm yours.

“I would’ve purposely failed if that was the case. I wouldn’t want to continue on without you.” You admitted, feeling the ache of your muscles finally hit you.

“They would’ve known if you did.”

“That’s true.”

“I would catch up to you no matter what. To be by your side…” San paused, afraid to say what he wanted to in fear that you may not feel the same. “For a long time, I believe that’s where I belong.”

His words caught you off guard. Did Sannie know? Did he know that you loved him? There was no way he could but the possibility of attraction between the two of you could not be ruled out so easily. It was there. You both knew it. You two just never spoke of it.

“Do you still believe that?” You asked, feeling a little braver and desperate.

What if this was it? It had been four days since the enemy got the upper hand and immobilized you and San and sealed you two up in this room. What if the Academy did abandon you both? Weapons are replaceable.

“I’m here with you now, aren’t I?”

He’s always been there.

You lifted your head off his shoulder to gaze up at him.

Gone was the little boy you worried about whenever you two trained separately. The one who was easily thrown and bullied around by his much stronger contenders. You were afraid of losing him even then because you had wondered why someone with such a gentle heart could ever hurt people. For goodness sake, he continued to let himself get beaten up just because one of the much younger trainees out of desperation and hunger, stole a piece of roasted sweet potato.

Before you now was a man. San still had the handsomeness he’s had since he was younger except it matured and bloomed into sharp features and a striking beauty that lost all the softness of his younger self. His body was no longer frail and sickly. His back and shoulders became broad, lean muscles had grown and given him more shape that reminded you of the prowess of a black panther.

But when he smiled.

He was the Sannie you cared for and loved so deeply…so quietly.

“Can you promise me something?” You asked, feeling your heart begin to ache.

“Anything for you.” He smiled softly down at you and you wished he hadn’t because it’d made your heart want him even more.

“If we get out of this alive…” you felt tears begin to form in your eyes. “Promise me you’ll leave the academy.”

“Y/N—,” he began to protest, sitting up a little bit you shushed him gently and changed your positions.

You cupped his face gently with your hands and looked straight into his eyes.

“When we get out of here, you need to disappear. Leave this life behind.”

San has never seen you cry since the Selection. Your eyes which were usually blank and cold, and that only ever warmed when you looked at him were glassy with tears and there was fear in them. Pure fear and hurt.

“P-please, Sannie. Leave the Academy.”

Why were you asking him something so difficult?

“You deserve more than this life. You should be able to live freely and to love freely. Leave all this behind. Leave me behind.” You were begging him now, your hot tears falling onto his beautiful face. His eyes were so gentle as they looked up at you.

“Don’t ask me of this, Y/N.” He tried to be stern to mask the breaking of his heart. “You know I can’t do that!” He wrapped his arms around your waist. “I can’t. I can’t…I can’t.” His voice was trembling, both your fears breaking you down.

“Do it for me, Sannie.” You wiped his tears away with your thumbs, fighting the urge to kiss the beauty mark on his upper cheek. “If one of us gets to be free, it should be you.”

“That’s not fair, Y/N.” He grabbed you by the back of your neck while his other hand brought your leg to be able to wrap around him, consumed by the need to be close to you. He pressed your forehead against his.

“We both deserve to live. If we’re talking about who should be free, it should be you.” He said through gritted teeth, still not letting all his composure go. How could you think so little of your life? “You’re not a weapon.”

He took your hand and placed it over where his heart would be. “We both have hearts that beat. We both have tears to cry. You breathe just like I do. You feel just like I do…you can love just like I do.”

San’s words echoed in your head, they rang like an alarm as those words breached the codes that the Academy programmed into you.

You couldn’t think straight. None of you could.

‘You can love just like I do.’

Could you, really?

Your bleary eyes searched San’s glimmering onyx orbs. You were scared to find nothing but conviction and such surety that made you believe him that you could. The hope in his eyes frightened you.

You didn’t know how to love. You only assumed to know that love was a precious emotion you could never have. The Academy said love was a weakness but all the training and programming they did, seemed to not exist at this very moment. Neither did it for San.

Well in his case, you had always been his exception to every rule. He’d break rules, laws, and bones for you.

“I don’t know if I can,” you sobbed softly. The fact you don’t even know how to love makes you feel as if you weren’t human.

Love was different from lust. You knew that. Everyone, even those under the Academy, had needs and everyone was left to handle it themselves as long as it didn’t compromise their abilities or get in the way of missions.

To put it simply, they just fucked for the feeling of it.

But no one touched you. You wouldn’t let it happen. You couldn’t. The other girls were nice enough to tell you how to do it yourself and you wondered if San has ever needed to get those needs out of the way…and the thought of who it could’ve been with made your chest ache at the thought.

“You can.” He smiled, so soft and gentle, it made you wonder if anyone else in the galaxy could look at you that way. So fondly and not the monster and killer you really were.

San held your hand that was against his heart tightly, still smiling up at you so sweetly you didn’t think you could handle that look. It was so foreign to you.

“Y/N, if you’ll let me,” San didn’t care anymore. If you two were going to die tomorrow and if he was going to do as you made him promise, he’d hold you and speak as if this was his last night in this life. “Let me make you feel. It doesn’t have to be love. But please, let me make you truly feel.”

You knew you could say no and it would be okay. All your time in the Academy, you realized the only time you ever felt safe was when you were with San. You didn’t have to keep your guard up with him and you didn’t have to lie to him.

Throwing all caution out the window and focusing on San, just him, you exhaled softly, unaware that you had been holding your breath.

“O-okay.” You held his face softly once more, telling yourself he was real. That he was here, he had never left you not once and he wouldn’t leave you til you told him to. “P-please Sannie.” Your voice quivered. “I want to feel alive.”

“Don’t cry, my darling,” he cooed, wiping your tears away. “You know I’ll do anything for you, right?”

You nodded, letting yourself enjoy the soft touch of his hands in your hair and on your face, and the warmth of his embrace.

“Can I kiss you?”

You felt heat bloom in your cheeks at the question. San knew you’d never been kissed. Well, he knew because first of all, he was your closest friend in the Academy and you told him everything, and secondly, he may or may not have scared off anyone else who wanted to.

“O-okay.” You’ve never felt so shy.

“I won’t ever hurt you, Y/N.” He leaned closer, your heart racing you felt as if it was going to jump out of your chest. “With everything I am and as long as I’m around, I won’t let anything hurt you.”

Your lips parted the slightest bit as his sweet words overwhelmed you with a sensation you’ve only ever felt in tingles whenever you were with him and now they were bursts of warmth that radiated throughout your body.

The plumpness of your lips and that innocent and pure way you gazed at home made him lose all his resolve. Softly as if handling the finest and most fragile porcelain, he pressed his lips against yours, their softness and their warmth, and the closeness of it all, made him feel as if the world had stopped.

You didn’t know what to do but when his lips gently moved against yours, a part of you made you do the same. It’s like your body needed to reciprocate his actions naturally. Maybe it was because you had thought about kissing him and wondered about it late at night til your face was hot and you were flustered at the imagination of what it’d feel to be closer to Sannie in a different way…

Gently, San helped you sit comfortably on his lap, supporting your back as he kissed you, tasting the sweetness of your lips that had a hint of metallic taste from the small cut on your lower lip. He’d kiss away all your cuts and bruises if you’d let him. He’d kiss them to make you forget the pain.

San was still holding back though.

He didn’t want to do anything you didn’t want.

But the way you had begun to kiss him back with the same need as he did, only made it harder for him to not lose himself.

Pulling away reluctantly, he looked at you. Your pretty lashes fluttered so prettily as you blinked dreamily at him, your lips were a glistening pink and your cheeks were glowing.

What made San fall even harder in that moment was the way you shyly looked away when he had been staring.

“Sannie…” you murmured, squeezing his shoulders nervously and completely aware that you were sitting on his lap, straddling him.

You just had your first kiss. San had just kissed you.

“Can I touch you?”

You felt your ears grow hot. “Aren’t you already?” You murmured. His hands were already on your waist and when they weren’t there they were in your hair or caressing your face.

“Let me rephrase that,” He chuckled and pressed his lips onto the corner of your mouth. “Can I…” he kissed your cheek, each kiss making warmth bloom wherever they touched you. “Touch…” He caressed the curve of your spine, your lower back tingling at the gentle touch. “All of you?”

“Y-yes.” You had uttered out so quickly and softly, that you felt embarrassed. You didn’t even think twice.

“You can touch me too,” San began to kiss along the column of your neck, the sensation making you shiver. “You can touch me however you want, Y/N.” He gripped your hips just a little bit tighter, enjoying the way you cutely squirmed.

“Sannie,” you softly called out to him, making him part from your neck which he had been kissing and licking.

His brows rose at your call, waiting for whatever you needed to say but in all honesty, you just needed to feel his lips on yours again.

So without a word, you cradled San’s handsome face in both hands before crashing your lips onto his, surprising not only him but also yourself at how greedy you had become. You didn’t know you could feel such sensations and the kiss just sparked a flame you never knew could come alive, and now that it was lit, it began to burn.

“T-touch me,” you whispered desperately between kisses, his own lips hungrily kissing you back.

San felt as if he was dreaming when those words slipped past your lips and even more so how prettily you moaned when caressed the underside of your breast with his thumb. He was surprised with how sensitive you were. You were still in your cat suit and yet you reacted so quickly to his touch.

His lips and your lips messily danced with desperation to drink each other's heat and passion. Your own hands had begun to tug at his armored protective suit while he also made quick work of your catsuit. San not wanting to leave the warmth of your lips, took his time to unzip the front of your suit. He wanted to be gentle with you despite the lust that was burning him from the inside out he just wanted to feel you and make you feel.

His lips finally left yours only to attack your neck with hot kisses, making you moan out softly. Gently he laid you on the worn-out mattress, parting from you completely so he could kneel between your thighs. Your eyes remained on him as he removed his protective vest, discarding it somewhere in the room before he peeled off his long sleeve over his head. His muscular chiseled body was illuminated by the moonlight, every ridge and ripple of muscle was accentuated by the shadows of the room. You felt a familiar heat pool in your lower body the more you stared at San’s physique and you blushed and turned away when he caught you staring.

The edge of San’s mouth twitched into a small smile, finding your timidness to be rather adorable. He liked how flustered you became because of him. San reached for your hips to pull you closer, your eyes widening when he did.

San found the zipper of your catsuit again, his heart thrumming in his chest as he slowly pulled it down. His breathing grew heavy as yours quickened with how the suit slowly opened revealing glimpses of your naked skin beneath. The rise and fall of your chest along with the sight of the valley of your breasts and hints of your body before him, made his throat dry.

He wanted to take his time but at the same time, his long infatuation that had turned to something more over the years made it difficult.

When the cold air kissed your bare skin, you felt your nipples pebble and harden against the fabric of the suit, making you want to rub your thighs together but that was impossible when San was knelt between your thighs.

“Can I keep going?” He asked you, pausing the pull of your zipper before it could go lower than your belly button. He searched for any uneasiness in your eyes but instead, he found such a sweet yet sinful look in them.

You nodded. “Y-yes, please.”

Gently, he helped you slip your arms out of the suit, his breath hitching at the sight of your bare pretty breasts bouncing free as he bunched the specialized Kevlar-like fabric at your waist. His palms were at least a micro-centimeter away from your skin. Almost afraid and hesitant to truly feel you. An assassin without their suit was just as deadly as them having one but with you, he felt as if without it, you were just a woman. A woman who wanted to be loved…a woman he loved.

Kissing you drove him crazy enough but to get to touch you? He’s going to crumble.

It seemed you had noticed his hesitation and driven by your silent desire, you took his hand and splayed fingers and pressed his palm over the middle of your chest, close to where your heart would be.

You didn’t say a word as his eyes snapped to meet yours. All it told him was that this was consensual, that you wanted him to touch you, and that he could keep going.

If this was truly yours and his last night in this world, none of you wanted to hold back.

“Sannie…” his heart stopped when you softly called out his name. Your eyes looked into his as if he brought you peace, there was no turmoil nor anxiety in them. The cold and dark blankness that they held when you’re on a mission or on Academy grounds was absent.

Right here, before him was just you. The young girl he once knew that the Academy caged and programmed to be a weapon in their beck and call, a woman who did not have the time to love or be loved, nor was allowed to. But if you were to tell him you were incapable of loving, he’d prove to you that you were wrong.

Maybe you didn’t know it then but the compassion you had shown him during your trainee days when he was nothing but the runt of the litter of kids with no future chosen by the Academy to be given a chance, that in its own way was love.

The way you stuck by him, took time to check if he was okay and to defend him from higher ranking assassins, even if it was platonic or more, it was love.

You slipped your fingers into his, intertwining them.

“Keep going.”

There was a hint of sadness in your smile despite the way you looked so longingly at him as if he were the warm shining sun.

He continued to unravel you. Gently, he rolled the fabric to slip past your hips. Despite your line of work, your skin was close to perfect in his eyes. No deep scars nor wounds that left a memory of your missions plus the Academy took good care of their favorites.

But the sight before him proved him wrong.

His heart dropped into his stomach and he felt your hand squeeze his.

Below your belly button and not fully hidden by the waistband of your black underwear, a long jagged scar curved along your lower abdomen. The scar was healed but it left its mark. It sickly smiled at him in a deeper shade than your complexion with pinkish hues.

“W-what is this?” He held your hip gently, his thumb caressing your hipbone afraid to touch that area skin, should you not like it.

He felt his heart break when you only looked at him sadly. “Y/N, w-what is this?” He croaked out hoarsely, his heart breaking when you looked at him that way and continued to hold his hand in yours.

“My graduation.”

The world stopped and he heard nothing but a dull ringing in his ears.

The Academy.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because it didn’t matter. Why should I speak of something that I could never get back.”

“D-don’t talk like that. Y/N you should’ve told me.”

You sat up, heart breaking when you heard his voice crack. San didn’t even realize that tears were falling from his eyes as he stared at that mocking smiling scar. Just when he thought the Academy couldn’t take any more from you, they took everything.

Well, almost everything. But not him. They were not taking him away from you. Never.

“Sannie, don’t cry.” You smiled, wiping his tears away. “I didn’t tell you 'cause I knew you’d cry.” You took a deep breath, finally telling your closest friend of so many years the secret you’ve kept from him. “This is why you should leave the Academy and live a life you truly deserve. You have a chance for a future you want. Mine…well…mine was taken from me. It was a silly dream I had when we were kids.”

“When we spent time around the towns and I’d see people getting married and having families, I thought I could have that. I thought I was going to marry you and have a family. At twelve years old.” You laughed softly at the childhood memory. “At twelve years old, I looked at you, my best friend, and thought ‘I’m going to marry San’ and that we’re going to be as happy as the families I’ve seen. That I would have a child and give them the life I never had…but then the Academy happened.”

San’s tears streamed down his handsome face and you held his face in your hands once more, making him look at you.

“I don’t want to think about that tonight. I don’t want to think about what I went through to stay alive.” You leaned down to kiss his jaw and your breath was hot against his ear as you uttered words that shattered his heart even more. “So don’t touch me like I’m made of glass. You can’t break something that’s already broken. Make me forget, Sannie.”

You kissed him again then took his hand that was on your hip and guided it to cup your breast, your body tingling and warming at the touch. The simple gesture told him one thing. Throw caution out the window. Nothing else mattered now except you and him. If both of you were going to die tomorrow, you both wanted to feel love and act on desires that both of you held back on.

Driven by the love he harbored for you for so long, he attacked your neck with heated kisses and caressed your bare torso with such a need to feel your skin.

Your warmth and your scent, he could die in it.

Sloppily, he licked and nibbled at the juncture of your neck and shoulder before going lower, and hungrily taking the soft peak of your breast into his hot mouth.

You gasped and moaned at the sudden and new sensation, your body tingling over and your hips mindlessly grinding on San’s thigh. You shivered at the spark of friction and loosely wrapped your arms around his head, your fingers combing through his hair as his tongue flicked and swirled over your sensitive nipple while his other hand gave your other breast attention. He squeezed and massaged them just as greedy as his mouth was latched onto your right tit.

Soon, clothes were haphazardly thrown away and you were on your back completely on display for San’s eyes and his eyes only. The coldness of the room was forgotten as your bodies began to burn with lust and yours continued to grow hotter as he kissed along your inner thigh, his slit cat-like predatory gaze never leaving your face.

Your thigh was hooked over his left shoulder and San took his time kissing your soft plush thighs, nipping and biting where he wanted and enjoying the way you squirmed and trembled. But when he came face to face with your pretty pink pussy before him, he felt like he could cum untouched.

His gaze was hot as he stared at your core and you wanted to close your thighs but it was impossible with San’s position. He rested his hand over your lower belly as he licked his lips.

“You’re dripping,” he said lowly, eying your slick pink folds and your little pulsing hole that pushed more arousal out the more he teased you. He brushed his thumb over your clit and your hips bucked.

Fuck, he swore to himself. You were so sensitive.

Biting his lip, he collected your arousal and messily spread it all over your cunt. You could feel the warm sticky slick over your skin and you only grew more needy for his touch. You’ve touched yourself plenty of times when you needed to…but it was different when it was someone else, it was different that it was San.

“Fuck,” he hissed softly, feeling how wet you were and how easily his thumb was able to circle around your sensitive clit, enjoying the reactions he was eliciting from you. “Does that feel good, sweetheart?”

You nodded, shamelessly.

“Have you ever been touched here?” He asked, wondering if you were like the other assassins who deal with their desires by sleeping with another assassin. If you answered yes, he’d be jealous. He’s already jealous at the thought of someone else being as close as he was to you right now.

But your answer was more than he expected.

“N-no. Just me.” You breathily replied, biting back a moan when he pressed a little more as he massaged your clit in slow languid circles.

“Yeah? Just you? All alone?”

“Mhm Hm.” You bit your lip, your hips bucking into his hand for more.

You were driving him crazy. He was imagining you touching yourself in your room. Pretty little hand in your panties playing with yourself underneath the covers and biting back your moans like you were right now.

“You know…there’s something better than just your fingers,” he inched closer, his breath fanning over your pussy, the heat of it making you clench around nothing. He hooked his arms underneath your thighs to hold you down and keep your hips still.

“Your fingers?” You guessed, blinking at him and watching his every move. You found it rather embarrassing that he was this close to your intimate area.

“Definitely,” he chuckled at your response. “But not that, sweetheart.” He kissed the top of your pubic bone. “Something even better.”

Before you could ask what, his pink tongue peeked from his lips and licked a long stripe from your dripping hole and up your clit. You moaned at the feeling, squirming in his hold. Not one second did his eyes leave yours, the intensity of them made you need him more, and when he slowly flicked his tongue around your clit, tasting you, the pleasure went straight to your head.

“A-ah, Sannie,” you gasped but it didn’t end there.

As he had done with your breast, he latched his hot lips onto your core and began tasting you.

San moaned against your pussy at the sweet taste of your cunt, slurping and hungrily licking at your arousal as if he didn’t want to let a single drop go to waste.

It was downright dirty. Pornographic.

He kissed and made out with your core like he had with your lips. You never knew that you could feel such mind-numbing pleasure like this. His tongue was so hot and his lips were so soft, and just when you thought it couldn’t get better, you felt the tip of his finger tease your entrance.

It was almost too much.

You gripped his dark hair and tugged when you felt him slip a digit inside of you. His finger was thicker than yours, longer too. A rush of arousal washed over you when you heard him moan against your pussy when you pulled his hair.

“You’re so wet, fuck. You taste so good.” He briefly left your clit then licked at the pearl before saying. “My finger slipped in so easily, sweetheart. I think you can take another one already. Can’t you?”

“Y-yes. San, please. I-I need more. Please.” You panted breathlessly. Just as you asked, he delivered.

He added another finger into your hole, slowly slipping them in and losing his fucking mind at how tight you were sucking his digits in. He could only imagine how heavenly it must feel when it was his cock instead.

“So fucking tight, sweetheart.” He bit his lip, slowly beginning to pump his fingers in and out of you, his fingers completely covered in your slick. “You like that, darling? Love how my fingers are filling you up?”

You nodded, gripping the mattress below you as your hips moved on their own, and words you’ve never thought you’d say out loud slipped past your lips. “W-want to feel you deeper. M-more please.”

San could only smile at your reaction before he latched his mouth again onto your clit while fingers curled inside of you. You swore at how easily he found that spot you desperately tried to find on your own in the privacy of your room. His fingers were thicker and your chaste walls welcomed them so easily. The way he touched you and pleasured you felt so good, you didn’t care about the lewd squelching sounds your pussy made as he fucked his fingers into you. You could even feel your arousal drip from your hole and onto the mattress.

His eyes were peacefully closed shut as he tasted you. It was as if he was savoring every single bit of you and this kind of attention was making a familiar warmth bloom in your chest.

“S-San, w-wait, I-I’m,” you stuttered out, feeling your core tighten, the familiar sensation of being on that edge far more intense than when you touched yourself alone.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s okay,” he murmured against your core, releasing your overstimulated clit with a soft wet pop. “Cum for me. Be a good girl and cum for me.”

Something about what he said and how he flicked his tongue against your clit as his fingers mercilessly pumped and curled inside of you, sent you over the edge. You gasped as your hips trembled and your walls convulsed around his fingers, your climax making you shake and your mind go blank momentarily.

San hummed deeply, the vibration of the sound along with how he slowly lapped your release and moved his lips as he did, made some part of your brain melt.

He couldn’t get enough and he quite literally was acting as if this was his last meal on earth.

“S-Sannie, wait—ah!” He prolonged your organs with his lazy kisses and languid kitten licks.

Once he had gotten enough (though he doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough), he parted from your lower lips to look at you through hooded eyes full of hunger and lust. It made your heart race.

With his eyes locked on yours, he thought his two fingers that had been inside of your heat to his lips and licked your essence off of it, a sudden heat passing through your body at the visual.

“You taste like heaven, sweetheart.” He moaned deeply, taking his time to taste you on his fingers.

“H-how about you?” You asked, your voice breathy and higher than its usual tone.

He caressed your thighs, lovingly as you came down from your high. “What about me sweetheart?”

Your hands caressed his toned stomach, tracing the lines of his abs and stopping before the waistband of his briefs.

“Do I get to taste you?”

San’s cock throbbed at your question that sounded so innocent from your lips. He wants to make this all about you but you were making it difficult for him to not be selfish and focus on making you feel good.

Still lightheaded from your orgasm, you sat up and crawled to San, the man before you gulping at the visual of you on your knees and seeing the beautiful shape of your back, it was like looking at a cat. You knelt by him, meeting his height before placing your hands on his shoulders and moving him to sit on the mattress with his back against the wall.

“I want to taste you, Sannie.” You purred, sitting a top of your folded legs, his own legs spread to make room for you.

He raised a brow watching you, amused at your actions. Even like this, he looked so attractive.

San smiled softly at you and caressed your cheek as you looked at him with round wide eyes. “Are you sure, sweetheart?”

You nodded, experimentally teasing the imprint of his length in his briefs. His breath hitched at the mere touch of your fingertips, his excitement making his thighs tense.

“Teach me how?” You looked at him through your lashes and the sweet determined look you had turned him on even more.

You were rather shy that you asked him to show you but little did you know, that just sent his mind places. Was he really your first?

Curiously, you palmed his length making a shaky breath leave him. “Did that feel good Sannie?”

“F-fuck… y-yes. It felt good sweetheart.”

“Can I take it off?” You tugged at the waistband lightly and he nodded eagerly.

You pulled down his boxers and once the garment was down past his hips, his cock sprung free from its confines. It slapped against his hard abdomen and you felt your mouth water at the sight.

Not knowing what it’d do to him, you slowly wrapped your hand around his length to gauge his size and San hissed at the warmth of your soft palm. He was hot and stiff, and the pink head was glistening with a slick liquid. With your other hand, your fingertips spread his precum all over the bulbous round tip.

“Oh, sweetheart, you’re torturing me.” He groaned the more you massaged this sensitive tip.

You felt your core tingle at the sight of his furrowed brows and his parted lips as you touched him. You wanted to make him feel good too.

“What do you want me to do, Sannie?” Your voice was so sweet.

“F-fuck, baby, spit on it a-and then wrap your pretty hand around me, okay?” His hand gently cupped the back of your neck.

A little hesitant but doing as he said, you spat on his cock, and the dirty sound and act of it made his cock twitch. You were guessing that you should spread it around and when he hummed, it told you, you were doing something right.

“Such a good girl, sweetheart.” He cooed. “Now wrap your hand around me. Fuuuck. Just like that.”

Feeling excited with all the praise he was giving, you kissed his neck slowly, doing as he did to you earlier.

“M-move your hand up and down, sweetheart.”

“O-okay.”

Your saliva mixed with his precum gave lubrication for you to easily glide your hand up and down his shaft.

“That’s it, baby. That feels so good. Fuck.” He moaned. “Come here, let me kiss you.”

You do as he says and kiss with his, moving your lips with his, and your core clenched when you could taste a sweet yet slightly salty flavor on your lips. Was that you? The fact you were tasting yourself on his lips turned you on.

The two of you stayed like that; making out while your hand pumped his cock, feeling his girth and his length. You couldn’t help but wonder how he’d feel inside of you but you wanted to taste him first like you said.

You pulled away from his lips and they pouted at the loss of them but he couldn’t stay disappointed for long, not when your tongue just did a kitten lick on his sensitive tip.

“Fuck, sweetheart, are you really sure?” He moaned, not wanting to force you. He was happy enough that you had been jerking him off. You really didn’t have to return the favor if you didn’t want to.

“Mhm.” You hummed, following your instincts and taking his leaking tip in your mouth, while your hand continued to move up and down his shaft.

His taste made your head spin and your clit throb. You liked the taste of him, it was a little salty but it was just him.

“Shit-,” he threw his head back, his other hand gripping the mattress as you licked and suckled at his tip. “That feels so good. Fuck. Don’t stop. Such a good girl using your pretty mouth on me. Do I taste good?”

You hummed so cutely as a yes. God, he’d do anything for you. How were you this cute?

“Do you think you can take more of my cock in your mouth? You think you can take it?”

His dirty talk made you even wetter and you were sure that you were dripping at this point.

Could you take it? There was only one way to find out.

Breathing through your nose and flattening out your tongue, you slipped his cock deeper almost choking when the hot tip touched the back of your throat but you against your gag reflex and tried to mimic what your hand had been doing. You slowly moved your head up and down, bobbing rhythmically on his cock.

San moaned breathily. This was your first time taking cock in your mouth? “You’re a fucking natural, baby. Fuck. That feels good. You look so pretty like this. Could cum just watching you.”

What you couldn’t take in your mouth, you made up for with your hand, earning more moans from San. You liked this. You liked making him feel good. You liked having his cock inside your mouth, you wanted to taste more than his cock.

You wanted more.

“Fuck,” he swore when he felt you bravely take a little deeper, feeling the way the start of your throat constricted at the intrusion of his cock. “Sweetheart, if you keep doing that—,”

You bobbed your head faster, not caring that you were making such lewd slurping and sucking sounds. He had done the same for you and at that moment you understood why he had enjoyed tasting you.

San’s thighs began to clench and his core tightened further. His knuckles were turning white at how hard he was gripping the mattress in one hand while the other grabbed your ass, making you yelp and take more of him deeper in your throat, which pushed him over the edge.

There was a cute surprised squeak that came from you which was the cherry on top of him spilling his load inside your mouth. Your eyes widened as you felt his hot release go down your throat and they fluttered close as you savored the taste of him.

San was losing it when he felt your throat move as you swallowed his cum. He didn’t know you were going to do that. What’s making his head spin further and making his hazy orgasmic bliss last longer was how you kept him inside your mouth, just the tip, and licking the slit of his cock head.

You pulled away, his cock falling on his stomach, still hard and you sat so cutely in between his legs as he panting and coming down from his high.

You wiped the edge of your mouth and licked what was left of him on your lips.

“Sannie tastes good.”

You didn’t know you had said that out loud in such a soft manner that made San swoon.

San like a cat, pounced on you.

He was once again all over you. Your back was against the mattress as he found his place between your thighs. You eyed his cock, still hard and glistening from when it had been in your mouth. Your walls clenched when San wrapped his own hand around his pretty cock and pressed the head against your clit making you whimper.

San rubbed the tip of his cock through your slit, spreading your slick and coating himself with it. You were so drenched that it was driving him crazy, he wanted to bury his cock deep inside you so bad but when his eyes met the long scar smiling from one hip bone to the other. He wanted to take his time. For you.

“Y/N,” he said softly, holding your hips with care. Even though you told him that he couldn’t break what was broken, he wouldn’t want to think of breaking you. In fact, he wanted to make you feel full, whole, and complete. He wanted to care for you in a way you deserved. “Am I your first?”

The sudden question threw you off. It made you realize that he was going to be your first. Concepts like those shouldn’t matter to you especially since you didn’t have the time to think of such a thing.

“Y-yes…” you admitted, relaxing a little. “You’re the first person to ever kiss me too. I want you to be my first, Sannie.” Your heart was aching while your body burned for him. “And if this is our last night alive, I wouldn’t have imagined anyone else being my first and my last. I’m glad…it’s you.”

San didn’t know if this was the right time to say the three words he’d been dying to say to you for so long. “For me…” he slowly moved his hips, rubbing his length between your slick folds, making your face relax into that flushed blissful expression.

“It’s always been you.”

You didn’t have time to think or question what that meant. Not when the tip of his cock teased at your entrance, just pressing against it.

Slowly, he let the head pop inside your cunt, both of you gasping. The girth of his cock stretched you out more than you could ever with your two fingers and there was a slight sting as he entered, making you bite your lip and whimper.

But he was attentive.

San intertwined his fingers with yours while his other hand held your hip still as he slowly, little by little, inch by inch, pushed his cock deeper into your tight wet heat. The velvety warmth of your walls made his head spin and the way they hugged his cock was heaven. The carnal part inside of him wanted nothing more than to thrust deeply into you and have you falling apart for him.

“S-Sannie, m-more.”

He growled lowly. Despite this being your first time, the wetness of your heat made his cock slip in so easily. Both of you watched as his cock split your lower lips apart and how his length slowly disappeared into you. You were bewildered that San was inside of you. You never knew just how badly you wanted to be close to him until tonight.

The circumstances were dire, it was hopeless but you had him.

“I want to feel more.” You squeezed his hand as he pushed his hips a little further. “Y-you’re so thick.”

San must be dreaming.

You brought your free hand over your mouth as the sensation of being filled up was such a pleasure you’ve never felt before. It was too much and not enough at the same time.

“You’re taking me so well, sweetheart. You’re doing so well.”

He cooed and praised you for each inch you took of him and there was something about the heat of him inside you, spreading apart your chaste walls that made your thighs shiver as he bottomed out.

San let out a long exhale, cursing as he felt his whole length be snuggly embraced by your velvety warm walls. He could even feel your arousal coat him and drip out of your entrance. He was ascending. He was the closest he could ever get to the person he’s only ever seen as the love of his life.

You looked so beautiful before him. How could you be so bashful yet exuding such allure? Your hand squeezed his as you adjusted to his cock inside of you, he could even feel the way your walls squeeze and contracted as you did. Fuck. He was your first. The first man to ever have the privilege to be this close to you, to feel you, and to see you in a state so vulnerable that you hid from everyone.

“Sweetheart, are you okay?” San asked, massaging your hips to help you relax. You were squeezing him so tight. “Does it hurt?”

His sweet voice and the care in them made your heart crack. What did you do to deserve someone like Choi San?

“N-not really. It’s just…new.” You whimpered when the head of his cock that was in your mouth earlier was snug against your cervix. “I-I can feel you.”

That made San’s head spin. “Y-yeah?”

“Mhm.” You nodded, holding his hand and looking into his eyes. “I…feel…you.”

Each word held so much weight and emotion that San couldn’t stop himself from leaning down and crashing his lips on yours. He could feel you too and he loved the feeling of you. He drew his hips back just a little, slowly giving you shallow thrusts to get you used to him. You gasped at the sensation of his cock gliding and scraping your walls, the friction so sinfully and mind-numbingly good.

San continued to kiss you, his tongue delving into your warm wet mouth, the two of you kissing messily as his cock eased its way out of your walls leaving only the tip in. You squirmed. The first taste of the motion of his length inside you sparked a rush that felt addicting and when he easily slid back into you again, it confirmed that growing addiction.

“S-Sannie!” You cried out, arms wrapping around him, holding onto him as he stroked your walls deeply.

“F-fuck, Y/N, you feel so good.” He groaned, burying his face into your neck, kissing the spots he hadn’t marked with love bites.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, your lust mixing with greed as you needed more of the feeling that San was giving you. You’ve never felt so much in your time of being alive. It was new. It was something you never had before.

The deep passionate rolls of hips with every intention to make you feel pleasure, the hot kisses on your neck, the sweet nothings he’d whisper, and the gentle caresses on your body. It made you dizzy, you’ve never lost yourself in something so…euphoric.

As San continued to glide his cock in and out of your tight heat, with his forehead against your chest, his eyes met that scar on below your belly once more, his heart aching. Why did they take that away from you? It was so cruel of them.

His emotions were all mixed up. You two might not live to see another day after this night and the two of you acting on your emotions and passions that had been suppressed for so long were both overwhelming. Plus the truth of what happened to you during your Academy days hurt him.

All he knew was he wanted to you to feel all of him. To make you feel his love and desire for you with every touch, every kiss, and every strong drive of his hips.

The passion and the way you two had been showing it to one another became more carnal as the lust muddled both your brains with nothing but unspoken love and the need to just fuck.

San’s hips picked up their pace. He thrusted and drove into you so deeply, each scrape and glide of his length inside you made his fat cock head kiss your cervix and pound into that one spot that sent you shivering and moaning.

San liked those sounds of yours. Accompanied by the lewd wet squelching and the sound of skin slapping against skin, it was driving him crazy.

“You feel that, sweetheart?” He placed his palm just below where your scar was, where he was fucking you. “That’s me.”

“C-can feel you, Sannie! Oh god,” you cried out, nails digging into his back. You could feel him waking up every fiber of your being with pleasure. “Want to feel more of you. D-don’t stop, please. Want you. I want you.” You were rambling mindlessly too lost in the pleasure, too lost in the heat of his thick cock filling you up.

“I won’t stop, baby. Can’t stop. I need you so bad. You need me to right? Fuck,” he felt you squeeze him tighter. “I’ll make you feel good, Y/N.” He moved his palm lower to find your sensitive pearl all puffy and sticky with your arousal.

Your back arched into him as he massaged your clit.

“You look so beautiful,” he whispered, fucking you til you both get your fill. Even if you both came now, he doesn’t think he’ll have enough of you. He wanted to fuck you so passionately. He wanted to drink what he could of you as this might just be your last night together. “Are you close, sweetheart?”

“Y-yes!” You croaked out, panting with each thrust of his cock. “W-wanna cum, Sannie. P-please.”

“Don’t worry, pretty. I’ll make you cum. I’ll fucking make you cum.” He growled, his hips picking up their pace. Your mouth fell open. The new pace had his cock hitting your g-spot at such a rapid pace you couldn’t think at all. All you knew was you wanted him to keep fucking you.

“H-harder. Need to feel you deeper.” You whined, hugging him close and your words only made the man before you go feral.

The snap of his hips shook your whole body with pleasure that only crescendoed your bliss further into euphoria. That tight knot within your tummy was reaching its limit. With how San was moaning and groaning against your neck, and how his fingers on your clit glided so easily with your slick was sending you over the edge.

You chanted his name over and over so breathlessly, your nails digging deeper into San’s back.

Snap!

Your mouth fell open in a silent scream as your walls clamped down around San, your thighs and hips convulsing uncontrollably as pleasure swooped through your body. You couldn’t help the way your nails clawed down his back which made the man before you moan brokenly as his hips stilled and glued against you.

Heat began to fill your walls and your womb as you came hard. San’s thigh muscles were taut as he emptied what he could into you. It was driving him crazy. Your walls were sucking him in a way where his cum just kept flowing til he had nothing more to give you.

“S-Sa—,” you didn’t have to finish calling out for him before he leaned forward to capture your lips. The kiss was slow and lingering…it was gentle and deep.

“I’ve got you,” he said briefly leaving the kiss to take a moment to straighten his back to look at you before him.

You were glowing. Your beautiful skin was covered with a thin sheen of sweat that made you glisten beneath the moonlight and your face was flushed. Your eyes looked up at him hazily, blinking prettily as you were still in your high. His eyes then drifted to where the two of you were still connected. Your puffy lips were split around his cock and you couldn’t help but look down there too.

Slowly, he slid himself out inch by inch. You whimpered at the loss of fullness but when you saw the pink cock head slip out and his length slam against his abdomen coated in your slick and pearly white release? Your walls clenched around nothing. With his thumb, he pulled one of your lower lips gently to get a good look at your pink pussy and his eyes darkened once more when he saw his cum leak out your pulsing hole.

San spread his release all over your pussy, his cat-like eyes curious and staring deeply at where he ‘marked’ you in his way.

“M-more.”

Did he imagine that?

“S-Sannie,” you spread your lips apart for him, making him swallow the lump in his throat. His eyes went to your face, his head spinning when you looked at him with such want and need. Could you look at him like that forever? “M-more. Need to feel you more.”

With San….you never had to ask him twice.

With the same passion and desire as he did earlier if not more, he was on you again. This time the two of you didn’t care about being gentle. You two were desperate for one another. Utterly desperate.

Then you found yourself locked against San with his arm around your waist, your back pressing against his body as he fucked deeply into you without thought. Your bodies were sticky as your shared heat kept you both hot, the cold forgotten as he pounded into you.

You moaned over and over for him, the sound a beautiful melody to his ears.

“I-I don’t think I can stop.” He rasped against your ear, slamming his pelvis against your ass filling your cunt up to the brim with his cock. “I don’t want to stop,” San growled while you cried as he slammed particularly deep, the new position making him reach that spongy spot inside you so fucking easily.

He’s gonna make love to you til you both are absolutely spent. Til he was empty and til you fell apart and had enough of him.

In that little walled-off prison you two were in, the two of you indulged in ways you both could never have during your time in the Academy. Boundaries they programmed into you were broken, lines were crossed and two beating hearts were fully awakened…and for the first time, truly, alive.

Then…when it was done…when that night passed and dawn broke. Those two hearts remained in each other’s arms, embracing one another as they feared for what the morrow would bring.

Not knowing that San would have to keep the promise he kept you.

“You deserve more than this life. You should be able to live freely and to love freely. Leave all this behind. Leave me behind.”

But he wasn’t going to leave you behind.

He could never.

-- feel free to scream in my askbox!

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[sigils-library]

Bitten. Simon Riley(Ghost x Reader

Apocalypse AU! Π TW: Swearing, Death, Angst

Minors DO NOT INTERACT.

-

It wasn't suppose to happen. It was only suppose to be an happy ending.

He already suffered. Yet the world decided to be even more shitty and started an apocalypse.

They were so close to the exit, but then an undead came. And bit her. She was the only one who noticed the undead man before it lunged at them, as she used her body as shield to protect her daughter and husband.

It was just so fucking devastating. They were so close, the heli was at the rooftop, ready to take the three to the safe zone.

Fuck the undead.

Fuck that man.

Fuck life.

He only wished he was the one behind the two.

-

"NYX RUN!" She yelled out as more came in as she held her now bitten arm, as the time seemed to slow down for Ghost. She was bit.

She was bitten.

Fuck that, she's still coming with them.

"(Y/n)!" He shouted her name. As she quickly grabbed her daughter. A girl that was 10 years old, that they found hidden, and took her in as their kid. She grabbed nyx and ran, as she quickly gave their daughter to her lover "Take nyx, ill distract them-" "NO! YOU'RE COMING WITH US!" "I CAN'T IM BITTEN!" They shouted at each other, before she took the initiative and opened the door that unlocked the rooftop, quickly pushing both of them out before locking her, and the undead in the building.

Ghost kept banging on the door, hell he even kicked it. Yet it was no use. He could only stare and watch as his lover, the one he sworn to protect, sacrifice herself for them. She looked at him one last time. Then tapped a few times on the locked door. "Don't do this to me please!" He banged even harder on the door as she smiled. How he felt angry. How can she smile when shes in deaths grip.

The soldiers had quickly got off the helicopter, pulling him, and nyx, who was crying the whole time to the helicopter as they flew away from the building. He knew morse code. And those taps. He couldn't even bring himself to cry. He knew what it meant.

I'm sorry. Don't blame yourself. I love you both.

Taglist:

Feel free to suggest or request, mines open :)

[kinfanfiction]

Charlie Eppes x Fem!Reader - Chapter 6 - Morse Code

A/N: I am genuinely losing my mind. I really hope my writing makes that obvious. /hj

Credit to @iloaveanna for the initial idea for this chapter. I’m sorry if I took it in a completely differently direction than the one you suggested but hey hopefully you still like it!

If you’re reading this chapter and you’re thinking, “Wow this kinda sucks.” I swear I will come back and comb through it multiple times because I really want this chapter to be good. So essentially, if you want to see a better version of this chapter return in a couple days.

Slight TW themes of violence are involved in this chapter.

There’s no Charlie gif fitting for this chapter so here is him being pretty.

SOOOOOO THIS TOOK FUCKING FOREVER BUT I FINALLY FUCKING FINISHED IT???-

     “Something changed, Larry. I looked at her, and I felt something for her I never thought I would. I’ve always admired her, of course. I mean, she’s beautiful, and brilliant, and kind, and she makes me laugh, and feel safe. I mean, she’s perfect, but I’ve always known that, and still I’ve always seen her as my best friend. Not necessarily someone I was…” Charlie sighed, unwilling to finish his last sentence.

     “In love with?” Larry finished for him, grinning at his smitten friend.

     Charlie quickly shook his head. “No, no, it’s way too soon to assume I love her.”

     “Charlie, you’ve known her almost your entire life. It’s not abnormal that you love her.”

     “Larry, it’s far too soon to tell.” He insisted. Larry laughed abruptly. “I know we’ve known each other a long time, but these feelings have never come up until now. So to jump to the idea of love is too soon in spite of that fact.”

     Larry stopped arguing and nodded. “Well, have you talked to her about it?”

     Charlie looked down at the cup of coffee in his hands. “No. I can’t. She opened up to me recently, for the first time in years, and I don’t want to do anything to make her shut me out again.”

     Larry frowns at the suggestion that you are so easily chased away, doubting the concept entirely. “Well, it’s not like you can hide these feelings from her forever, wouldn’t that be you shutting her out?” 

     “You might see it that way, but I see it as a way of maintaining our friendship as it is. Besides, these feelings will probably fade eventually, so why should I destroy what we have for potentially fleeting emotions?” 

     “Yeah. Potentially.” Larry mutters. 

     Charlie had begun to feel extremely defensive at this point, “Look, what do you want me to say?”

     Larry shrugs. “Nothing, yet. You take your time, of course. I understand situations like these aren’t easy to navigate.” He says, putting his hands up to show he wasn’t going to fight Charlie on the matter. It’s his life, after all. 

     Charlie takes a sip of his coffee. “Thank you.” The two sit quietly for a little while, Charlie’s eyes drift towards the view beyond the cafe window. He thought over the conversation, and he thought about his last interaction with you. He thought about how you were in such a hurry to leave the dining room and pack your things. He worried that whatever subtle change in feelings for each other you had shared would continue to scare you away. “Maybe I’ll visit her apartment later, to talk. Not necessarily about any topic in particular, but just, to talk.” 

     “That sounds like a good plan.” 

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     When you had finally begun to regain consciousness, you slowly opened your eyes and took in your surroundings. You realized you’d been tied to a chair, and you were faced in front of a camera. In that moment, you remained alone, but you knew that wouldn’t be the case for very long. Still, you did everything you could to gather information about where you were. Through a pounding headache and overwhelming dizziness, you looked to your left to see a window covered by white curtains, so you could still see light streaming through them. The floor was carpeted, and the room was relatively warm. It wasn’t exactly the harsh environment you’d expected. You’d expected to be in a dark secluded basement where no one could hear your screams. 

     Finally, a tall man returned to the room. He had bright blue eyes, a brown and gray scruffy mustache and beard, with hair on his head to match. He looked old and tired. He himself was not too frightening, but the gun in his hand was. “Oh, you’re awake. Well, then we can get straight to discussing negotiations. I’m holding you for ransom, which means you have only one way out of here, just give me a number of any family members who would be willing to pay $500k for your life, and you’ll be on your way home in no time. Or of course, you can pay the money yourself.” The man spoke in a very professional tone, like this was just a regular business transaction. Meanwhile, your head was spinning. You could barely even process where you were, and now you had to take in what this guy was saying. 

     Then, you had to think. Don’t criminals usually hold people for ransom if they’re rich or they know their victims are connected to or possess something of importance? Was it possible this man knew you were connected to the FBI through Don and Charlie? Would he be suggesting you call family if he did? If there was any chance he thought he was getting any money from the FBI, he’d have to be either crazy, incredibly stupid, or both.

     Then it occurred to you, that’s exactly how you get out of this. Through Charlie, Don, and the FBI. You hated the thought of Charlie receiving a phone call like this from you, so you decided to go to Don first. You give the guy Don’s number, and he calls. “What’s your relation to this person?” He asks for clarification, and you think to yourself for a short moment. You decided there was only one correct answer to his question. 

     “He’s my brother.” Calling him your neighbor or childhood friend just didn’t seem right. He had always looked out for you like he had with Charlie. Growing up an only child, he was the closest thing you ever had to a brother. He might as well know that in case you couldn’t be saved. You could hear the muffled sound of Don’s voice answering the call. 

     “I have your sister, if you ever want to see her again, I need $500k within the next 24 hours.” 

     Don, on the other line, was immediately alert, but also a little confused. The man put you on the phone and demanded you speak. Your voice came out shakier than you’d wanted it to,“Hi Don, it’s Y/n. I didn’t want to call Charlie because I knew he’d freak out, and I know you’ll have to tell him yourself now so just tell him I’m okay right now, just uh, bring the money.” You say the last bit for the man holding you hostage, so he doesn’t think there’s any alternative to him getting what he wants. 

     “You heard her.” The man mutters, before quickly hanging up the phone so it could not be easily traced.

     After he left the room, you began to think about all the things you’d do as soon as you got out of the carpeted hellhole you were stuck in. You’d begun to realize that if you didn’t escape this, there’d be a lot you’d regret in death. Your first thought was that you hadn’t hugged your family members enough. You thought about the Eppes, and it hit you just how bad it would be if you died. It had only been a year since Margaret passed away, you hated the idea of you dying as well, and putting them through more grief than they’ve already faced. Especially with everything you had left to resolve between you and Charlie. You had just started opening up to him, letting him get close to you again, and you knew that there had been a shift between the two of you, but you were still trying to deny that there was a chance you might be developing feelings for him. 

     This wasn’t the first time you’d questioned your feelings for Charlie. The first time was when he came back from Princeton. He’d grown and matured in a way that caught you off guard. Here was this 16 year old guy talking like he was 25, and for some reason you found that strangely alluring. Still, you had no intention to express your feelings then, because you didn’t want to ruin your friendship, and instead you cast off your attraction to him as your teenage hormones acting up. For years you convinced yourself that you’d gotten over the little crush you’d had on him, and now that these feelings were beginning to reemerge, you could no longer cast them off like you had before, and that was beginning to terrify you.

     You began to think of what you would say to him if you made it out of your captor’s home alive. You weren’t coming up with much. You knew you had to be as smart as possible in your current situation, because you refused the alternative of your loved ones going through so much pain. 

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     As soon as the man hung up, Don dialed Charlie’s number and called him. Charlie halted his conversation with Larry to answer. Don let out a shaky, nervous breath as the weight of the situation had begun to sink in. “Charlie.. When did you last see Y/n?” He asks in as calm of a voice as he could manage. 

     Charlie furrows his eyebrows at the question, “The last time I saw her was at the house, she said she was going to pack up, so she might’ve gone back to her apartment by now, why?” He asks, now a little on edge. 

     “Shit.” He muttered. He immediately hung up and gathered a team of FBI members and directed them all to your apartment to search for any signs of who the man that had kidnapped you might be. When they arrived, they could see your car had been left behind, and when they see your bags in the back, it’s confirmed you never made it home before being taken. The team scanned the car for fingerprints, but only found yours. The guy had been careful not to leave behind any physical evidence that he had been there. Then, Don noticed that there were security cameras set up around the apartment, and he quickly checked with the main apartment office, only to discover that there was a lapse in recording from a few hours earlier that had been cut out. His last resort was talking to eye witnesses, which is always tricky. 

     Luckily, in one of the apartments near where you had been taken, an older woman recalled seeing a suspicious looking man sitting in his parked car in the same parking lot where your car was left behind. She didn’t get a good enough look at him to be able to say what he looked like, and she never saw you get kidnapped, but she made sure to note that he was in a black Sedan, and that when the man finally drove away, he seemed to be in a hurry. Don asked her what direction she saw him leave in, and she said he’d turned left on the exit out of the apartment complex. The whole team immediately headed in that direction, until they realized they didn’t have enough to go off in order to find you. 

     Defeated, Don knew he’d have to ask for Charlie’s help, and he knew that his brother would be incredibly scattered knowing your life was in danger. Hell, he was too. He looked at his phone to see about five missed calls from Charlie, and finally answered.

     Charlie was already panicked over the short phone call earlier, but the only reason the missed calls stopped at five was because Larry was there. They had left the cafe and went to Larry’s house so Charlie could attempt to stop overthinking. When he finally got a call back from Don, he answered almost immediately. “What was that call about? Did something happen to Y/n?” He demanded in a rushed tone. 

     Don sighed, “Charlie, Y/n was kidnapped. She’s being held for ransom. We have 24 hours to find her. She’s alive, and she’s alright, but we need your help to track her down.” Charlie’s breath hitched in his throat, and he quickly sat down. He went silent for a long time, overwhelmed with worry. He partially blamed himself for not talking to you more after you’d rushed to pack your bags. Maybe he could’ve kept you from leaving long enough to have prevented this from happening. He felt as if he couldn’t breathe. In the many conversations he imagined having with Don after his first call, Charlie had imagined this as one of them, but he never dreamed that he’d be right. He was always paranoid and overthinking, so he cleared his head, assuring himself that’s all he was; paranoid. Not right!

     Don was very silent with him, waiting for him to say something, but after about half a minute he really started to worry. “...Charlie?” He spoke, finally breaking the silence. 

     All Charlie could say was, “What?” In a breathless voice. 

     “I know this is a lot, but we need you to come down to the office and help us find her as soon as you can.”

     Charlie nodded, and Larry stared at him, feeling very confused and concerned. “I’m on my way.” He said, immediately grabbing his coat and walking towards the front door.

     “What happened? What did Don say?” Larry questioned, following after him. 

     “She was kidnapped.” He spoke, and just saying the words out loud hurt.

     “Let me drive you.” Larry insisted, since he didn’t want his friend waiting for public transportation.

     The two made it to the office, and Charlie immediately combed through the evidence, and he quickly came up with ideas on how to track the black Sedan that the guy was in. He checked all traffic light cameras near the apartment complex, and spotted a black Sedan leaving in a hurry just like the woman had described. He then continued following the car through footage of all the traffic lights that followed, until eventually they lost him. Fortunately, Charlie was a genius, so he had already used the data from the traffic cameras to narrow his location down to a specific area. Unfortunately, with that being all the information they had, the only thing they could look for was a black Sedan, there was no hint from anyone on what his guy looked like. The windows on his car were too tinted to tell. So, the team went searching for all black Sedans with heavily tinted windows in the area. They wound up empty handed. Garages are a tricky thing to avoid. 

     They spent the next few hours looking for anything they could find that could lead them to this guy, just kicking themselves over their lack of success. 

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     For you, the next few hours were excruciating. You had no food, no water, and no way to go to the bathroom. “Why does it always take so long for people to come up with $500k?” The man muttered. 

     “Maybe it takes so long because people aren’t made of money, jackass.” You mumbled quietly in return. The man shot his head up to look at you, rage apparent in his eyes. 

     “What did you just call me?” He said, standing up, gun gripped firmly in his hand. He put the gun to your head, practically seething with anger. “You better watch how you talk to me. Your life is in my hands now. I could kill you right now and kidnap someone else if you’d prefer, but if you wanna live I suggest you shut up and do your part until this is over.” He threatened. 

     Your eyes widen in fear. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry! I’m an idiot for saying that. I’ll shut up now.” You say in a panicked tone. The man removed his pistol from your head and sat down, still visibly pissed at your comment.

     “Actually, you know what? I’m getting tired of all this waiting, aren’t you? Why don’t we send a video over to your brother, show him just how much trouble you’re in so he’ll hurry up.” The man said, getting up to start recording on the camera that had been staring you in the eyes for hours. 

     As soon as the camera started rolling, he put his gun to your head again, standing out of frame. “It’s been six hours, we’re a quarter of the way to the hour when your sister dies, unless you give me my $500k.” As the man began to speak his threats to the camera, you quickly thought of a way to communicate with Charlie. When the two of you were in grade school, he taught you morse code. You used it often to communicate across the room during class, and now knowing it could potentially save your life. 

     As he talked, you began blinking in morse code, describing the man’s features, including specifics that would make him more easily identifiable, like any moles he had on his face, what he was wearing, the inside of his house, what camera he was using, what gun he had, any details that could help ensure you were found. You played the blinking off as blinking in fear of the gun to your head, and the guy was too wrapped up in his own fury and impatience that he didn’t catch on to what you were doing. You tried to hold it together, but soon enough the stress of the whole situation set in, and tears began to stream down your face. Of course, still trying to survive, you used your tears to help sell the need for such excessive blinking. You blinked away all your tears as they poured out, set on communicating everything you could to Charlie, Don, and the FBI.

     When the video was over, the man moved the gun away from your head and left the room. He was gone for a long while, presumably making sure his video was untraceable and sending it to Don. In the meantime, you calmed yourself down. You did all you could, and you hoped that as long as they did the same, that would be enough. You wished you had more definitive clues that could lead them to finding you, but you had been unconscious the whole ride over, so you had no street names or details on the exterior of the house to give.

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     After spending hours going over everything a thousand times over, trying to figure out where you could be, Don finally sat up as soon as he received an anonymous message, with the video of you in it. He connected it to his office computer, and immediately had another agent try to trace it, but there was no luck. Charlie ran over to see the video, and his heart shattered on the spot. Seeing you so afraid for your life shook him in a way no other case had. He hated seeing you like this. He wanted so badly to find you and take you home and make sure nothing like this ever happened to you again. He focused in on every detail of the video, the background, the sound of the man’s voice, anything that could lead them to you. Then, as he watched closely, he noticed how much you were blinking, at first he’d assumed it was because of fear, but then he identified a pattern to the blinking, and recognized the pattern as morse code. He scrambled for a piece of paper, and began writing down the words.

     He was so relieved they finally had an appearance description they could use to find the guy. One of the agents sketched out the words you’d used to describe the man as best you could with such limited time. After they had an image, they started looking for matches in the area Charlie had narrowed your location down to, and they found a guy with every feature you’d described, including a mole next to his nose. Then, Don checked his records to see if they could identify what car he had for confirmation, and sure enough, the man owned a black Sedan. That was all they needed to go down and find the guy. Don gathered a team of agents, and Charlie followed. Usually, Don would argue against him coming to the scene of a crime, but he couldn’t refuse to let Charlie come get you. He knew he needed to be there.

     The whole ride over, Charlie couldn’t stop fidgeting with his hands as he stared out the window. Even though the car was speeding the entire time, he felt so anxious that 90 miles per hour just didn’t seem fast enough. As they came up on the area of the man’s address, all cars slowed down to a normal speed and parked in various spots surrounding the house. They wanted to be as quiet as they could as they snuck into the man’s house to get you. They kept in mind that he was quite possibly still in the house, and that he had a gun. Megan went into the garage to confirm he was the owner of the black Sedan they had been searching for, and sure enough, as soon as she walked in, there it was.

     Don made sure Charlie wore a bulletproof vest before they went inside the house together, walking in through the back.

------------------------------------------------------

     The man returned and stayed seated in the chair he’d set up across from you, next to the camera, making sure you made no sudden movements trying to escape. Then, the two of you both heard the faint sound of shuffling from downstairs. Relief ran through you, but not for long. As soon as the man felt that someone was in the house, he got up with his gun and put it to your head again. “Any sudden movements and you’re dead, got it?” He threatened. Your whole body tensed, and you dared not move, save for the fact that you had begun to shake involuntarily. 

     As soon as an agent knew you were in immediate danger, movement got a lot faster for the team. Three agents burst through the front door, then, running up from downstairs, Megan, Don, and Charlie all ran up to get you. “FBI! DROP THE GUN!” One of the agents yells. 

     “Take one step closer and I’ll shoot.” The man threatened immediately, attempting to continue holding his ground.

     “You try that, you die.” Charlie spat. Which wasn’t just a statement sourced in the rage he felt, it was true. There was a sniper outside waiting to shoot the second the man so much as attempted to pull the trigger.

     “Is $500k really worth it?” Megan questioned.

     Suddenly, the man burst into crocodile tears, realizing he’d lost. “You don’t understand, if I don’t pay that $500k, I’m gonna be in a lot of trouble.”

     Don shook his head, “You’re already in a lot of trouble, buddy. Now drop the gun and put your hands behind your back. Don’t make this harder than it has to be.” The man considered defying him, but he knew even if he shot you and tried to run, he wouldn’t get anywhere. So, he cooperated, dropping the gun and letting Don cuff him. All the agents left to take the guy to the car, and Charlie rushed to untie you. As soon as you were free, you began breathing heavily with a deep sense of relief, knowing that the guy who had kidnapped and almost killed you was now in custody. 

     As soon as Charlie came around to the front of the chair to look at you, you wrapped your arms around him with such a force that it knocked you both back onto the carpet. He instinctively returned the embrace, and you swore he was shaking more than you were. You cried into his shoulder, and he let out a few tears himself. He was so glad he and the FBI had found you. “You’re okay now, I’ve got you.” He spoke in a shaky whisper. He had been so scared that his worst fear would come true so soon within your lifetimes. He thought he was going to lose you, but he didn’t. He gently pulled out of the tight embrace, his eyes wide, and he immediately started scanning you for any injuries, and, with the exception of a few bruises, you were alright. 

     You got a good look at him, and he got a good look at you. You stared into each other’s eyes, both glad you were alive and the two of you were finally together. Then all of a sudden, there it was again. That feeling in the pit of your stomach. Usually it made you want to run away and hide, but in this moment you just felt pulled to him in a way you couldn’t word. “I almost died today.” You said softly, just taking in the truth of the sentence, still in shock. 

     Charlie nodded, a tear sliding down his cheek, “Yeah, almost. But you didn’t.” He lifted his hand and moved the hair that had fallen in front of your face back behind your ear. For the first time in a long time, beyond everything that had happened today, you truly felt safe. “I think I should stay with you a little while longer.” You say quietly, and he smiled softly and nodded.

     “I think that’s a good idea.” He agreed. 

     “All my stuff is back at my apartment still.” 

     “I’ll see if Don can go get it for you, if you don’t want to go back there.”

     “That sounds good.” 

     Then silence fell upon you, and you still continued to feel that magnetic pull towards him. Through all the adrenaline you felt after everything you’d just been through, fear no longer seemed to be a hinderance. Before rational thought could take hold of you once more, you leaned in and pressed your lips against his. In no way had Charlie expected that.

[fluffyprettykitty]

hello and welcome to another celebration! ❣️❣️❣️

Thank you so much for everything, forever grateful for every single interaction and every one I've met here, smooches and love to everyone &lt;3

This time around I will write blurbs and drabbles and focus solely on the women!!! 🍒

Running from october 17 to october 21!

masterlist here!

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰ ───

What will you do is mix and match a character or several with one or several of the following categories.

🌷Polyamorous ships are always encouraged. Dark topics, platonic relationships & aus are welcome. No daughter! reader though.

🌷 Please only use a character from the ones already provided.

🌷I will either turn them to make blurbs or hds or drabbles depending on my inspiration but you can suggest to me what it should be.

🌷As always feel encouraged to send as many asks as you desire. I will be receiving the asks and releasing them of my own volition.

🌷 You have to be strictly 18+ to participate.

🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷

characters: Selina Kyle, Natasha Romanoff, Kate Bishop, Yelena Belova, Valkyrie, Layla El Faouly, Monica Rambeau, Jane Foster, Jessica Jones, Gamora, Elektra Natchios, Wanda Maximoff || Bix Caleen, Galadriel, Sharon Carter, Nakia, Jennifer Walters, Dinah Madani, Karen Page, Bobbi Morse, Maya Lopez.

aus: apocalypse, ballet, bakery, bar, bodyguard, book store, brothel, celebrity, coffee shop, cult, detective, fake dating, gardening, ghost, mafia, maid, mechanic, mermaid, musician/rock star, neighbor, stripper, tattoo shop, yandere.

kinks: whips, corruption, latex, breath play, cockwarming, phone sex, gloves, choking, mutual or guided masturbation, mirror sex, love bites, strip tease, uniform/suit, deep throating, knife play, gunplay, titty fucking, hunter/prey, squirting, praise, worship, dirty talk, sex toys, overstimulation, accidental stimulation, collaring, shower, sensory deprivation, somnophilia, gagging, lingerie, object insertion, rimming, lap dance, period sex, lactation, balcony, thigh riding, breast worship, temperature play, edging, sex tape, hate sex, spanking, exhibitionism, handcuffs, clothes on, moresomes, degradation, humiliation.

date ideas: day trip, road trip, rock climbing, library, museum, botanical gardens, restaurant, camping, beach, drinks, concert, walking, sightseeing, volunteering, boat ride, dancing, spa, errands, mattress shopping, shopping spree, cinema, coffee, ice skating, cooking classes, abandoned places, photoshoot.

domestic situations: building furniture, trying new recipes, competitive games, painting nails, reading, cuddling, clothes shopping, packing, laundry, goodbye at the door, repairing, changing bedsheets, exercising, deep cleaning, takeout, bath, falling asleep, dancing, holidays, brushing teeth, waking them up, eating, listening to music, complaining about family, movie nights, nagging, doing dishes.

Just combine as many as you want however you seem fit! And of course when it comes to domestic situations and date ideas you can think of other things or be more specific on one situation! ☆

☆ In the near hopefully future, I will keep the same exact format and have all the characters available ☆

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

No pressure tagging: @alohastyles-x, @silver-pieces, @stargirlfics, @maladaptivexxdaydreaming,@musingsinmoonlight, @chelleztjs18, @asgardwinter, @inklore, @bvckysmoon, @that-sarcastic-writer, @wint3r-h3art, @galatially, @writing-for-marvel, @stranger-nightmare, @psychedelic-ink,

[ask-missparker]

Hey huge fan of your series and appearances in the movies. I have a question, how do you feel about the way your showed in the media? - ElizaHamilLove21 

Aw thank you, uhhh it still surprises me how much they film of our lives but I love the drama of it all and the effects for the entertainment side of it. How do I feel about how I’m showed in media? Huh?

Well it depends cause if it’s Feige running the whole thing, *roll her eyes a bit* then they don’t like to admit or even acknowledge all the things I’ve heard and done in the Agents Of SHIELD series. Like I’ve been to space, time travel, fought HYDRA, some of HIVE and kicked ass on the streets of other countries before Peter Parker ever did! But oh no, they don’t talk about that. They rather keep it more streamlined with the previous version of my role, than my TV counterpart instead. Which is understandable i guess, but i loved that we were able to have a version of me interactions with Gwen Stacy and Matt Murdock.

Another thing, in a lot of movies they make me like a second parent to Peter or give me different love interests too! Which, i mean I don’t mind it’s always fun to see who I’m dating at the moment. Such as in Far From Home, they had Quentin Beck as my ex-boyfriend, which isn’t the worst thing to make for me and added to a interesting dynamic but in real life, we were just good friends.

I have a small role in X-Men but i was casted as another actress.

Piper from Charmed played a version of my character, but she was a darker brunette and her—my name was Morse not Parker. I see the intention though because there plenty different versions comic book of me. Some are comic books where i have no powers at all and I take on the mantle of Mockingbird using my auntie Bobbi Morse last name, after her death in Hawkeye series.

There are a lot of more things i can talk about if you like.

——

Keep the chain going: @purpleprincessonfyre @meiramel @gcthvile @rickb-chaos @gaminggirlsstuff @wizzzardofoz @mallowbee4 @luna-d-marsh @halesfavoriteharlot @rooster-84 and etc

[umbreonsrings]

★An Introduction post!★

What can you call me?

Aster, Paperjam, Eevee (or any variant) and Soda

What are my labels?

I’m Aroace, Non-binary

Pronouns?

Mostly They/them, but if you want neos, i'm fine with any of them

Can I find you on other platforms?

Yes! You can find me on tiktok with the user oiship0tato_fries

I have a twitch that i rarely use fizzys0dapop

I don't have any other socials (apart from my private ones of course)

What are your interests/fandoms your in?

Last time i checked i had over 300+, i tend to get into new interests really easily

As for fandoms that can interact with me, you can interact with me no matter what you're in, just be a decent human being, know peoples basic boundaries and follow them

More about me

I’m learning, Spanish, Portuguese and know some ASL and Morse code

Allium duo, and Clingy Duo fans please interact ily guys

I post art sometimes

The fandom i've been in for the longest was definitely TMNT and Pokemon!! (I've liked both of them for my whole life since i was introduced to them when i was like a year old)

I'm Filipino!!! :3

I'm a multishipper so you're welcome no matter what u like!! (As long as it's not problematic)

Please do not dm me unless we're close friends or you have told me beforehand that you are going too/lh

NOT TOLERATED HERE ❌:

- Proshippers (adult x minor, incest, etc.)

- Comshippers (only the problematic ones)

- Bigotry of any kind

- Homophobia

- transphobia

- Islamophobia

- Sexism

- Abelism

- Zoophiles

- Pedophiles/Makes pedophilic “jokes”

- “Jokes” about things like r*pe, or any sensitive issue

- People who immediately judge others because of their interests

If you are one of/ok/neutral with these please dni, you are not welcome here

[silver-pieces]

Marvel Girlfriend May!

Pairing: mcu!women x reader (both gn! and fem!)

Synopsis: One Marvel girlfriend for each day of the month of May!

Warnings: 18+, MINORS DO NOT READ OR INTERACT, general warnings for smut, angst, fluff, content will vary so please read the individual warnings!

A/N: I don’t know where this idea came from, but here we are!

Starting with May Parker and ending with Melinda May, I will write and post a drabble for a different marvel woman for each day.

Please feel free to tag me in your mcu!women x reader stories - even if we’ve never interacted before, I’d love to read and reblog any mcu!women x reader stories that come my way!

Divider ❊ Guidelines ❊ Masterlist ❊ Taglist

1. May Parker ~ a friendly neighbour ~ 2.1k

2. Wanda ~ you will beg ~ 4.3k

3. Sersi ~ firelight tryst ~ 405

4. Kate Bishop ~ purity curbs my tongue ~ 890

5. Maria Hill ~ sleight of hand ~ 1k

6. Claire Temple ~ tunnel of you ~ 1.4k

7. Natasha Romanoff ~ you could do better ~ 3k

8. Sarah Wilson ~ my best friend’s sister ~ 940

9. Okoye ~ these abundant skies ~ 677

10. Sif ~ bathed in light ~ 868

11. Ravonna Renslayer ~ again ~ 461

12. Jemma Simmons ~ a cute dress ~ 593

13. Misty Knight ~ onto you ~ 2.6k

14. Carol Danvers ~ divine gifts ~ 1.2k

15. Nakia ~ fresh water ~ 2.1k

16. Jessica Jones ~ burn eventually ~ 1.6k

17. Makkari ~ blue ~ 588

18. Bobbi Morse ~ who’s your daddy? ~ 493

19. Karen Page ~ kiss me? ~ 554

20. In progress

[bobateastay]

can't take my eyes off of you - c.s

perv!choi san x fem!reader

nsfw content - do not interact or read if you are under 18

cw - boy next door san, 70s college!au, porn with (minor) plot, smut, lots of candy, mentions of sex toys and porn, san consumes a lot of porn, dirty talk, mild exhibitionism, dumbification themes, masturbation, blowjobs, cum eating/sharing, multiple orgasms, creampie

word count: 6.6k

You’d known San since before you could walk or talk. You’d grown up next door to each other and were best friends only in the way that kids who spend a lot of time with each other are best friends. Even though you and San were joined at the hip until you were about fourteen years old, your friendship was nonchalant and focused mainly around lounging around in each other’s bedrooms or running up the phone bill to discuss TV show plots and which actors were the most attractive. He was a sweet, constant presence in your life, and even when you stopped hanging out, the two of you would turn your bedroom lights on and off a few times before going to sleep so that the other could see the light flashing from their bedroom window - a makeshift-morse-code way of saying goodnight.

Throughout high school you’d still hang out in San’s bedroom every now and then. You didn’t know as much about him anymore since you didn’t see each other often outside of school, but there were a few things you picked up on. A few things that felt weird to know, considering the two of you weren’t particularly close. By the time you and him had graduated, San had gathered a rather impressive collection of shoplifted porno magazines that he kept in three seperate stacks under his bed: one for Playboy magazines, one for Playgirl magazines (his favourite, apparently) and another for miscellaneous magazines. He’d also gathered a reputation - to put it mildly. To put it bluntly, most people thought that San was gross.

There were mixed rumours - some that he’d made out with teachers for better grades, some that he’d been caught poking around the girls' locker rooms - but the general consensus was that everybody was reluctant to be around him for fear they’d get caught up in one of the rumours about him. And since you were one of the very few people who was known to talk to him, people expected more gossip from you which, for better or for worse, you didn’t have. You knew that he had plans to study visual languages and history at the local college but aside from that, there wasn’t much gossip you could supply. Which was probably for the best, you told yourself.

And by the time the two of you settled into your college courses and got used to the people in your classes and dorms a couple of years later, most of the rumours about San had died down. Even if you ruffled San’s hair most of the times you walked past him or he occasionally bought you a lollipop to drop in front of you in the canteen, there wasn’t much you knew about San anymore. Which probably wasn’t for the best, but there wasn’t much you could do about it. At least that’s what you told yourself.

A few years into college, you heard that San was working at the sex shop in town (which everybody you knew seemed to hate, because nobody wanted one of their classmates scanning their lube every time they were there). It was a little odd. Sure, San had almost always had a centerfold or two up on his bedroom wall toward the end of high school, but you couldn’t imagine him working at a sex shop - at the very least not one where all of your classmates shopped. Out of curiosity, you went to the store yourself one day.

San looked perfectly content behind the till, as though he were working somewhere as mundane as a CD store or a coffee shop. You greeted him as casually as you could, cheeks heating up as you looked around, realising very suddenly that there wasn’t anything you wanted to look at here, now that you’d seen him. You took a few steps away from him, busying yourself with tugging at one of the belt loops on your pants.

“Let me know if you need help or advice,” he called after you. He sounded just as cheery as when he used to yell goodnight to you from his bedroom window. You turned to give him a small nod and kept walking away from the till. When you turned back once more, you found that San was still watching you, his eyes no longer focused on your face. Your heart did a somersault as you cleared your throat.

“Actually, I’ve never been here before,” you admitted, trying to steady your voice. “Can you help me out?”

The smile that spread itself across San’s face was unlike any of the sweet smiles he’d given you before, his eyes briefly flicking up to meet yours as he looked you up and down. Your stomach filled with butterflies so aggressive that for a second you worried you might throw up. He made his way over to you and let his hand rest on your lower back - a friendly touch, you told yourself, ignoring the way his fingertips briefly dipped below the waistband of your pants.

“Sure, I’ll show you around,” he said. All at once, his smile was back to the regular one you were used to, his dimples showing briefly. He was the same San as always. Why did you think he’d be any different just because he was working at a sex shop? You let his hand keep resting on your back as he showed you around the store, more at ease than you’d ever seen him before. You ended up not buying anything, mostly out of embarrassment at the idea of San knowing what you were interested in, but he offered you a bottle of lube and a few condoms on your way out anyway.

“They’re always good to have,” he told you as he settled behind the till again. You gave him the same awkward nod as when you arrived at the store. “I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah! I’ll see you around Sannie,” you replied.

To your surprise, you did see him not long after that, a familiar hand setting down a strawberry lollipop in front of you while you sat in the library, textbook in your lap. You looked up to find San looking down at you with a sheepish smile.

“Can I sit with you?” he asked, his voice so quiet that he might as well have been only mouthing the words. You nodded, unwrapping the lollipop as quietly as you could despite the ‘No Food & Drinks’ sign on the wall beside you. You turned your attention back to your textbook, looking up after a while to find that San didn’t have any school material of his own, arms crossed on the table and his head resting on top of them while he looked at you.

“Where’s your stuff?” you asked, keeping your voice as low as possible around the lollipop in your mouth. He raised his eyebrows, lips forming a small pout.

“I just wanted to sit with you,” he whispered back. He picked up the lollipop wrapper, folding it up absentmindedly before looking at you again. “Remember you used to do that thing where you’d pretend the lollipop was lipgloss?”

You hummed in confusion, a small snort escaping you when you realised what he meant. You pulled the lollipop out of your mouth, still wet with spit, before smearing it over your lips. It was sticky, the sweet smell of artificial strawberry filling your nose even as you pulled the lollipop away. You looked up to meet San’s eyes, except they were focused on your lips, so that you couldn’t make eye contact with him. You licked the layer of sticky, sweet saliva off of your lips before it could dry, watching as San’s Adam’s apple shifted up and down when he swallowed.

“Is that what you meant?” you asked, putting the lollipop back in your mouth. He nodded. There was a short while of silence as you continued to read from your textbook, distracted only when San let out a soft groan, almost unnoticeable. You looked up to find that his face was hidden in his arms now and that the tips of his ears were tinted pink. “San? You okay?”

He nodded, shifting forward in his chair. Not even a minute passed by before he stood up in a hurry, making far too much noise for a library as he pushed his chair back under the table you were at.

“I’ll see you around,” he called out, getting briefly scolded by the librarian on his way out. You chewed on the lollipop until a small piece chipped off, crunching it between your teeth. You mulled over that same phrase. I’ll see you around. It had sounded so nonchalant back at the sex shop but now it had come out as though he were running for his life. Had you really lost track of San so much that even his goodbyes felt like a mystery? You pushed the thought out of your head. It was just regular old San. You took the lollipop out of your mouth and smeared it over your lips again, remembering his reaction. A smile plastered itself onto your face. Yeah, just regular old San.

San’s rushed ‘I’ll see you around’ became a common occurrence after that. So did a few other things. Like his flushed cheeks (as it turned out, his blushing had the ability to spread down his neck, all the way to the smattering of freckles close to his shirt collars) and his quiet company at the library (he never did bring any textbooks with him). It was the same kind of friendship you’d had when you were younger: laidback and not much more than exchanged favours and small talk. More often than not you were tempted to ask him why he’d made the effort to pick up your friendship again now or why he blushed when you unwrapped lollipops and why his eyes always lingered on any part of your body that wasn’t your face. You never did ask him, though. You weren’t keen on possibly embarrassing yourself if your observations were wrong.

“Hey,” San’s voice said from behind you, pulling your attention away from your lunch. You tilted your head up, finding him looking down at you with his lips pressed into a thin line. A smile played on your lips.

“What’s up?” you replied. He glanced around at the other people sitting at your table, sucking on his bottom lip.

“Can I talk to you?” he asked. Your eyes widened at the sudden seriousness, pushing your chair back a little to follow him out of the cafeteria, struggling to keep up with his rushed walk. He came to an abrupt stop, so much so that you bumped into his back, your face heating up in embarrassment. When he turned around to look at you, he almost looked guilty. Emphasis on the almost. “My, uh, roommate dropped out. And I know you already have a room and everything but I wanted to ask if you want to move into mine?”

“Oh,” you said, mouth dropping open in surprise. That wasn’t exactly what you’d expected from the look on his face when he’d approached you in the cafeteria. “Is that even allowed, San?”

“Yeah! Yeah, I just-” he cut himself off, making eye contact with you. This time, his eyes didn’t fall to look anywhere else other than your face. “I don’t like having a room alone and there’s not a lot of other people I talk to here.”

“Oh,” you repeated, contemplating his words. There was a long list of pros and cons to accepting San’s invite, but the biggest pro right now would be seeing San’s pretty smile, accompanied by creased eyes and shallow dimples. Your heart fluttered at the thought and you sighed. “Okay. Just until you get assigned another roommate.”

San’s smile upon hearing your words had been just as pretty as you expected, his voice pitched a little higher than usual as he thanked you and told you where his room was. He handed you a pack of Love Hearts candy instead of the usual lollipop he bought for you, and headed off in the direction he’d come from. You tried to ignore the whispers about San when you sat back down to finish eating, even when someone not-so-discreetly asked ‘isn’t that the guy whose roommate dropped out because he’s a creep?’. You stared down at the small messages printed onto the pack of candy, smiling when you saw the one that said ‘kiss me’. You shrugged your shoulders at the question - some things never changed.

Apparently, that included San’s room too. He still had magazines under his bed (though the stacks were significantly smaller) and he still had a few magazine cut outs taped to the wall by his desk (though the pictures were significantly less erotic). He was tidy (or as tidy as any guy his age tended to be) and offered to do your laundry along with his, saving you money and a weekly trip to the laundromat. He gifted you candy less often - but you supposed that was only because it wouldn’t be healthy for him to give you lollipops everyday. Occasionally you’d come back to the room and find one of his magazines left open (you’d had the luck to never see any fully nude men or women) but you couldn’t complain when he was the most relaxed roommate you’d ever had. You fell into the easy routine of seeing him everyday and falling asleep to the sound of his barely-audible snores without any trouble.

It was a few weeks after moving into his room that San dropped a few coupons on your bedside table, your eyebrows raising when you saw what they were for.

“Why’d you bring me coupons from the sex shop?” you asked him, setting aside the book you’d been reading.

“They make for a pretty good deal. If you buy the right stuff, it ends up being half price,” he explained, as though this made perfect sense. You picked up one of the slips of paper, examining each side as though you might find some hidden secret that would tell you exactly why San had gifted these to you. You felt your stomach flip-flop at the notion that San would see sex toys on sale and think of you.

“I don’t usually buy that kind of stuff,” you mumbled, setting it aside.

“Hm? If it’s because you don’t know what to get, I can help. I have a bunch of-”

“No!” you yelped, startling San into silence. You could see that he was reaching for his closet door and your mind began to race at the thought of what he was reaching for. Was it more magazines? Did he have a catalog for the shop? Or was it really a bunch of sex toys that he was willingly going to show you? If your stomach had flip-flopped earlier, it was all but tied in knots now. “I can figure it out by myself.”

“Right, yeah,” he murmured. You watched him gather a set of clothes, leaning against the door as he opened it. “I’ll be back soon.”

You nodded, watching him leave with a soft huff. You stared at his closet door for what felt like hours (when you checked the time it had only been three minutes), pulling at a loose thread on your pyjama shirt until it unravelled. Surely it was just more magazines. You let out another huff, louder this time, before stepping over to his closet. All it would take was one second to see the magazines and then you’d close the door and be done with it. You swallowed your guilt at looking through his stuff and opened the door, crouching down to get a closer look at the boxes at the bottom of the closet. Although you could admit that you hadn’t entirely been expecting magazines but you definitely hadn’t been expecting the extensive collection of sex toys San had neatly organised at the bottom of his closet.

You slammed the closet door shut loud enough that you were sure the entire corridor heard it, ignoring the heat between your legs in favour of picking up your book again. When San came back, you offered him a stiff smile and turned onto your side in bed so that you wouldn’t have to look him in the eye.

“Can I turn off the lights?” he asked, flipping the switch only when you gave him a hum of assent. “Goodnight.”

You resisted the urge to ask him why he seemed to have the entire stock of the sex shop in his closet and mumbled back a soft ‘goodnight’.

It would be an understatement to say that you tried not to think too much about it. When you weren’t in class you tried your best to be busy, avoiding being around San for any longer than you had to. But there was only so much money you could spend on going to the cinema and only so much time you could spend loitering in the parking lot to listen to the music playing from other people’s cars. At the end of the day, San was still the person you had to see everyday, regardless of whether the sight of him made your mind fill with radio static.

There was an infinite amount of questions you wanted to ask him. Did he really need that much lube? Weren’t vibrators usually meant for women? Was he using all those toys for himself? And if he was, could he really fit a dildo that big inside of him? How did he ever find time to use them if he had to share a room? When you watched him get ready to sleep, stray drops of water clinging to his neck and his cheeks still pink from the hot water of his shower, you almost blurted them out. But by the time you’d worked up your courage, he was telling you to sleep well with a smile on his lips that made your heart skip a beat.

Had he always been this handsome? You wondered how much more handsome he looked when his fingers were slick with lube and his forehead was shiny with sweat. You mentally kicked yourself for thinking of him like that and swore not to think of it again, but the thought was back as soon as you saw him the next morning.

“Hey,” San called out to you. It was a Saturday and neither of you had classes, so San had slept in even after you’d woken up and gone to shower, his cheeks puffy from sleep as he sat up to look at you. He sounded half-asleep and you hoped that he was, because the way his voice made your knees weak was not something you wanted him to notice.

“Good morning,” you called back, picking up a set of textbooks and notebooks while he rearranged his bed sheets around himself.

“Are you going out?” he asked, clearing his throat when his voice came out deeper than usual. You hummed softly as you turned to look at him.

“Yeah, I’m going out,” you answered, trying not to think about what San’s question entailed. He nodded, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and not reacting much when you pushed open the door. “I’ll be back in the afternoon.”

“See you,” he mumbled, already settling back down to sleep again before you shut the door.

Your walk to the library was a distracted one, your mind circling around San’s morning voice that you should’ve gotten used to by now, his sleepy face and the way his cheek looked when it pressed against his pillow. It was this distraction that screwed you over in the end - you’d already arranged your books in the small library corner you and your friends had decided to sit in when you realised that you’d forgotten your pencil case.

“Shit,” you muttered under your breath.

The walk back to the room was decidedly less distracted as you tried to come up with an apology for San in case you were to wake him up when he’d only just gone back to sleep. You kept your fingers crossed that he’d already left to shower or get breakfast. You were pulled out of your train of thought when you made it to the room to find that the door wasn’t properly shut.

It wasn’t cracked open, leaving nothing on the inside visible, but the door latch was resting outside of the frame instead of being inside of the frame and fully shut the way you’d left it. Maybe San had left to shower and not closed it properly? Or had you been so caught up in trying to get out of the room that you hadn’t noticed leaving the door open? You leaned forward and pulled the door open just enough to peek inside, your heart jumping into your throat at the display before you.

You knew that you shouldn't keep looking. All you had to do was close the door and come back in an hour. Really, watching the guy you'd known all your life jerk off wasn't something you'd ever planned on doing but fuck, San looked pretty when he was flushed and moaning. You stared open-mouthed at him laying back in his bed with his eyes squeezed shut, a Playgirl magazine by his feet and a bottle of lube on the floor close to him. His bottom lip was swollen and wet with spit and the breathy moans that he let out were so soft you had to strain yourself to hear them. For all your determination to leave, you couldn't find it in yourself to move from where you were standing.

You let your eyes move from his face down to where his hand was, lingering on his neat happy trail for a moment before your sight landed on the fabric bunched up in his hand. You really shouldn’t have kept looking.

“Are those my fucking panties, San?”

San’s eyes shot open, jaw dropping as he sat up so quickly that he must’ve made himself dizzy, almost tipping forward as he tried to look at you. He didn’t answer your question but he didn’t really need to when he was still holding your underwear against his dick, eyes focused on your face as though he hadn’t just been caught masturbating.

“I’m gonna do the laundry later,” he mumbled, as though this excused his actions.

“San that’s not- the door is open,” you hissed at him. He let out a groan at your words and you couldn’t help but look back down at his cock, noticing the way his fist tightened as precum leaked from his tip, staining the material of your panties. Your thighs pressed together thoughtlessly, your stomach filling with a familiar warmth. “Did you seriously want someone to walk in on you?”

He let out another groan, hips bucking upward into his hand. You pulled your attention back up to his face, your breath getting caught in your throat when you found that he was staring back at you with half-lidded eyes.

“Wanted you to see,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. And fuck, that really shouldn’t have been as hot as it was but it seemed you hadn’t learned your lesson about looking away on time. You stepped inside and shut the door behind you.

“Show me, then,” you replied. He raised his brows in confusion, lips automatically forming a pout as he did so. You took a deep breath. “Show me what you wanted me to see.”

You’d never seen a more enthusiastic nod in your life, San’s lips parting to let out a sharp moan as he began to fuck up into his fist. His fingers were slick with lube just how you’d imagined they would be, holding onto your panties so tightly that his knuckles turned white as he rutted against the soft fabric, his chest rising and falling irregularly. You noted the shine of lube spread over his nipples and the way his bottom lip caught between his teeth when he gave a particularly rough thrust up into his hand. He looked like something right out of the magazine that was at the foot of his bed and for once you almost understood the appeal of the tacky porn he was so enamoured with.

“Feels good,” he whined, eyes squeezing shut.

“Yeah?” you asked, swallowing the lump of nerves and arousal in your throat to kneel in front of him on his bed. He nodded eagerly, not opening his eyes even when you placed your hand on his knee. His skin was almost feverish beneath yours and the feeling made you shiver.

“Feels good making a mess of your panties,” he continued.

“San-”

“Makes me think of you wearing them with my cum still on them, walking around all day with my cum on your cunt,” he practically sighed out. You swore under your breath as you imagined his sticky cum against your skin. His grip on his cock tightened when you slid your hand down the inside of his thigh, tracing a fingertip along the neatly groomed hair at the base of his stomach. “Want you to watch me cum.”

“Just watch?” you prompted, his movements coming to an abrupt stop. He opened his eyes to look at you, still gasping shallowly in an attempt to catch his breath. After a moment of silence, he shook his head.

“Want you to make me cum,” he corrected himself. “I want to fuck you until you’re dumb on my cock.”

You were tempted to make an offhand comment about how he watched too much porn but his words made your mind fuzzy, the panties you were currently wearing sticking to your skin as your arousal grew. You leaned forward until your nose was against his, your ruined panties thrown aside and forgotten as San placed his hands on your hips.

“Go on, then,” you whispered, San’s breath hot on your lips. “Make me dumb.”

His lips were just as heated as the rest of him when they met yours, overeager and clumsy as he kissed you, his tongue licking into your mouth the moment you parted your lips against his. His hands made quick work of your belt and pants, so steady in comparison to his lips that it made your head spin. He pushed his hands beneath your underwear, gripping your ass tightly enough that a moan escaped you, quickly swallowed by his lips. When he pulled back, a string of saliva connected both of you, his mouth pulling into a grin.

“Think you can do as good a job with my dick as you do with all those lollipops?” he asked, pulling one of his hands back to slap your ass. You whined at the words, remembering every single time he’d handed you a lollipop that you’d accepted without hesitation. “You could even use my cum as lip gloss, right?”

“Fucking hell, San,” you groaned, shuddering at the thought.

His hand rested on the back of your head, a firm presence even though he wasn’t pushing you. You nodded, pushing your pants the rest of the way off before lowering yourself down so that you were face to face with his dick. It was pretty like this, flushed an angry red and twitching before you even had a chance to touch it, the head slick with a mixture of precum and lube that tasted odd when you finally leaned forward to press your lips against it. You smeared it over your lips the way you had done with the strawberry lollipop when San had asked you to, smiling when his dick pulsed in your hand.

“Pretty,” he complimented, cut off by a groan when you took him into your mouth, tongue pressing against the frenulum as you sank down. His grip tightened on the back of your head, hips bucking upward to fuck into your mouth. The head of his dick met your throat before you could take half of him, drool spilling past your lips as you gagged on his length. He groaned, his hand moving so that he could stroke his thumb against your cheek before he gave a sharp thrust into your mouth. “How is it? Better than all that cheap candy?”

You hummed a yes around his length, bobbing your head up and down as tears gathered in your eyes. You could taste his precum when you pulled off, dragging your tongue against the tip and swallowing the bitter fluid. You chanced a look up at him, smiling when you saw how wrecked he looked. You pumped his dick with both of your hands, keeping your lips against the tip as you did.

“Cum, Sannie,” you said, trying and failing to keep the pleading tone out of your voice. He smiled that same odd smile that you weren’t used to seeing - you recognised it now for what it was: a cocky and lustful smile that was anything but sweet San you knew. The smile broke when you squeezed his dick, his mouth dropping open as he came all over your hands and lips. His voice was strained, hand squeezing the back of your neck as he groaned your name, vision unfocused even though he was still looking down at you. With the same practiced movement, you used the head of his dick to cover your lips in his cum, grinning up at him.

Once he’d come down from his high, hips still lazily fucking up into your hands, he smiled down at you.

“Looks better than lip gloss,” he said. His hand moved from the back of your neck to the front, squeezing your throat as he pulled you towards him. “C’mere.”

You could barely breathe from how he was holding your throat but you still gasped when he leaned in to lick the cum from your lips, taking his time to collect all of it. When he’d gotten all of it, he pulled back to show you the white liquid on his tongue before he leaned in again to kiss you, sharing his cum with you as though it were something as casual as a piece of gum. He pulled away, examining your expression with a seriousness you’d never seen on him before. His dick was still hard, twitching when you ran a finger up the underside of it.

“Where do you want my cum next?” he asked, letting go of your throat to push his hands up your shirt and snap the elastic of your bra against your skin. “Tits? Ass? Inside of you?”

“I want-” your voice trailed off as you tried to think of where you wanted him to cum. You let his hands move to your ass again, barely noticing how he guided you to grind against his thigh. The sudden pressure between your legs made you gasp, hands unsteadily gripping San’s shoulders as you followed his touch, pressing your clit forward against his thigh. “Anywhere you want. You can cum anywhere you want, San.”

“You know I’d cum all over you if I could,” he practically growled in your ear. “All over your face and cunt and clothes - cover you in cum and make you walk all the way to the showers without cleaning up, so everybody could see you covered in it.”

The thought made your cheeks heat up and you hated the way San giggled when he noticed how much his words affected you.

“I’ll cum inside you this time, since you have to get back to studying soon,” he teased, nosing at your cheek for a brief moment. The sudden light affection made you giddy. “We’ll leave making a mess of you for next time.”

Next time. That sounded like a good deal.

His movements now were less careful than they had been when he had taken your pants off, almost tearing your shirt in his hurry to get it off, discarded on the floor along with your bra the second he’d gotten it off you. His touches were bruising now, pleasure mixing with pain as he pushed you onto your back and leaned down to bite every inch of skin he could reach. His teeth dug into your skin as he sucked on it, causing you to cry out each time he pulled off with a wet pop. By the time he reached where you wanted him most, you were impatient, tugging on his hair.

“Hurry up,” you muttered, letting your head fall back against the bed when he finally tugged your panties off and threw them aside. One of his fingers pushed against your entrance, his breath warm against your clit as he began to fuck you open.

“I don’t think you’re dumb enough for me yet,” he taunted, his thumb pressing just above your clit but not close enough to touch it. Your back arched in an attempt to get his touch where you wanted it. He pushed a second finger into you, grinning at the lewd sound that came from thrusting both of his fingers into you at once. “You can get dumber for me, right? You’re already so wet, you can manage a little more.”

You nodded, a strangled whine leaving you when San changed the angle of his fingers, aiming differently each time until your hips bucked upwards, a particularly loud cry of his name leaving your lips.

“There,” you whined, gasping when he thrust his fingers harder against the same spot.

“There?” he asked, a mocking lilt to his voice. You nodded dumbly, focused only on San’s calculated movements inside of you. Your entrance stretched when he added a third finger, drawing another loud moan from you. Your clit was throbbing by now, your eyes filling with tears at San’s inattention to how you were aching for his touch there. The moment you reached down to touch yourself, San’s hand slapped yours away, his fingers pulling out of you with a wet sound that made you shudder in embarrassment. “Want you to cum on my cock.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to be frustrated by that idea.

“Fuck me already,” you begged, wincing when San delivered a light slap to your pussy, your entire body jolting at the sensation.

“Now you’re dumb enough,” he whispered to himself, sliding his dick against your pussy. You gasped when the head pressed against your clit, your legs moving to wrap around his hips. The action made him smile even when he continued to tease you, slapping his cock against you until you were dripping down onto the bed sheets, coating San in your slick arousal. “Ready?”

You nodded in the same enthusiastic way San had done when you sat down to watch him, your movements faltering as San finally pressed into you.

“Fuck,” he muttered through gritted teeth, not stopping until he had bottomed out inside of you. The stretch was more than his fingers, your entrance aching as he grinded into you without moving, pushing his cock as deep as it could go. Finally, San moved his hand to rub circles into your clit, swearing under his breath when you clenched around him at the action.

“San,” you groaned, covering your face as he began to make shallow thrusts into you, never once stopping his movements against your clit. You could feel your stomach filling with heat and while you didn’t want to cum already, San wasn’t leaving you with a lot of options, each move of his hips rougher than the last.

“Let me see your face,” he demanded. When you shook your head no, he moved his hand away from your clit, grinning at the long whine of protest you let out.

“Fuck you,” you spat at him, although the words contained no bite, moving your arm away from your face to find San watching you with his lip caught between his teeth. His thumb immediately found your clit again, brows pulling together when you tightened around him at the feeling. You opened your mouth to warn him that you were going to cum but you didn’t catch yourself in time, your legs trembling as you came on his dick. He groaned, his thrusts sloppy as you shook below him throughout your orgasm. Each slam of his hips made you shudder all over, your cunt clamping down around his length. You gasped for breath as you came down from your high, barely able to recover from the way San was still relentlessly fucking into you. “Wait, too fast-”

He nodded, moving his hand away from your clit without slowing his thrusts.

“You feel so fucking good,” he mumbled. He leaned down to kiss your forehead as steadily as he could. “Better than I ever thought you would.”

You felt flustered by the words, moving to cover your face only for San to stop you, squeezing your hand before he set it aside.

“Let me see your pretty face when I cum,” he said, slamming his hips into yours so that the sound of skin-on-skin and the lewd noises of how wet you were were the only things audible in the room. He gripped your legs, settling them over his shoulders before continuing to fuck into you, your breath knocked out of your lungs with how much deeper he felt in this position.

“Sannie, wait,” you whimpered, your breaths stuttering as you grabbed onto his waist. He only hummed in response, his thrusts less and less calculated now. When you didn’t say anything in return, your nails digging into his waist as he felt your cunt pulse with need, he grinned.

“Gonna cum again?” he asked, grinding forward into you. “Gonna cum while I fill you up?”

You nodded, pushing your hips up to meet his thrusts as your second orgasm hit you like a truck, your vision going white. San’s thrusts faltered before he stilled inside of you, his cock throbbing as he came. He gave a few more languid thrusts, the stimulation almost painful as your orgasm ended, before he pulled out, swearing at the feeling of your entrance dragging against his cock. He sat back on his heels, setting your legs down and watching with rapt curiosity as his cum spilled from your entrance. Wordlessly, he scooped up the liquid with his fingertips before pushing it back into you, his eyes flicking up to your face when you whined at the feeling.

“Fuck,” he whispered, running his dirty fingers over his lips. “You’re hot.”

You sat up, watching his distracted movements.

“You did the lip gloss thing,” you pointed out, laughing when San pulled his fingers away to reveal that his lips were indeed shiny with both of your releases. Before he could wipe it away, you leaned forward to kiss it from his lips, briefly licking along his top lip before pulling back. You were just returning the favour from earlier, you told yourself. He sat there sheepishly, back to the familiar, quiet San you knew now that he’d wrung two orgasms out of you.

“I still have to do the laundry,” he mumbled, gesturing to the soiled sheets you were both sitting on. You snorted.

“Yeah? So you can steal more of my underwear?” you joked.

“Possibly,” he hummed. You didn’t miss the way his dick seemed to be getting hard again. You’d have to ask him about his stamina later. “Come help out, if you want. I’ll get you ice cream.”

You rolled your eyes.

“I’ll pass by the laundromat when I’m done studying,” you offered, getting up and stretching your aching limbs. You’d have to shower now - so much for quickly picking up your pencil case. San watched you dress and gather your toiletries with a content look on his face, not making any effort to move or get dressed himself. You leaned against the door, pausing for a moment as you turned back to look at San. “Hey, San?”

“Yeah?” he hummed, smiling warmly at you.

“Can you really fit dildos that big inside of you?”

♡

taglist: @imaaroy @sweetteez @lovely-ateez @sunsethw4 @xirenex @seonghwanotes @choiberry @hijirikaww @yunsangoveryonder @peanutpmingib @ateezinmymind @earth-to-leiki @perfectlysane24 @yungisstar1117 @glilboy @gayliljoong @barnesbabee @mpxpp @baekmond @sleepychimm @myspace-bootao @4ngelfiles @valhoez @tohokuu @serialee @sannierio @unminuit @seohwa

[ravenirene]

Rating different sapphic ships for marvel women cause I'm bored. Some ships are mcu based most are comic based

First up Black Widow/Natasha Romanoff

1. Sharon carter - Widow13/Natsharon

9/10

they're adorable, friends to lovers. I love the way they are always complementing each other like sharons saying "but her speed still impress me" or mcu nat in tws saying she was nice, honestly mcu nat seemed more into sharon than mcu steve. Also they got 7th for a comic sapphic ship poll w over 6000 votes, so true of them

2. Bobbi Morse -bobbinat/mockingwidow

10/10

stealing clints wife, literally. There's panels of nat calling bobbi darling. They actually kissed in canon but it was just so nat could give bobbi medicine since she was under influence. After Bobbi gained control of herself again she told bucky to tell nat and I quote from bucky himself "she said to call her if you were still "curious", and clint got all defensive." Anyways they need to kiss again but for real this time.

3. Jessica drew - jessnat

7/10

Caroljess is my #1 but this is also cute. Spider x spider. They had rlly cute moments in secret avengers and avengers assemble(2013). Including this one where nat says jess is her soulmate and those panels of where they get a massage together. In one spiderwoman comic where jess was pregnant they almost had a movie night together until someone interrupts

4. Marina

6/10

Marina is natasha childhood best friend. They met in the red room and sometimes they escaped to watch ballerinas dance. When they got older(1960s?) they had a mission together but the handlers thought Marina was going to deflect from the red room so after the mission they had Natasha put k!ll Marina, nat almost doesn't do it but in the end...anyways they were adorable up until the end. Marina should be referenced again cause the only comic w her is Black Widow 2014

5. Maria hill - blackhill/marianat

9/10

Enemies to lovers to Enemies to lovers to Enemies to...Invincible iron man has major blackhill angst I swear ("but maria hooked up w tony in it" no) their relationship is confusing lowkey one minute they're protective of each other next minute they're bullying one another. But either way Invincible iron man and Black widow 2014 made some big blackhill points. Maria turning to nat cause she was the only one she could trust. Nat comforting maria when she had ptsd flashbacks. Maria saying that nat is the only one she can trust. Taskmaster 2021 where maria faked her death without telling anyone and the blame was put on taskmaster so u have natasha going after him to avenge her. U see taskmaster dialog "bullseye thinks that if u kill the heros girlfriend, their wife or partner or whatever, then you've got an edge on them. But all that does is get them.to come after you harder than ever. I've adopted a 'no wives, no girlfriends, no mothers' policy. Not just because it's gross. Though it is. No, it's because these heros, these guys...it always seems that all they are waiting for is one dead woman to motivate them" what's a hetero explanation for that?!? Nat is literally chasing this man down all throughout the comic and taskmaster is scared sh!t less, the only reason she doesn't kill him is because right before she does maria reveals herself to nat that she's alive. I only put it as 9/10 cause I'm not the biggest on Enemies to lovers plus there was those times where maria does make nat sheilds biggest enemy...

6. Elektra

6/10

They definitely hate f*cked once u can't convince me otherwise. Hate the whole "fighting over matt" thing though

7. Carol danvers - carolnat

5/10

I perfer them as friends but they do have some nice moments.

8. Janet van dyne(not hope)

5/10

I also perfer them as friends(not that ive rlly seen a lot of ppl ship them). They have a cute friendship in black widow and marvel girls

9. Wanda maximoff- wandanat

??/10

They have a total of 5 interactions mcu and comics combined. I see the vision but at the same time they both have better ships

10. Peggy carter - Peggynat

2/10

I see where you're coming from w the what if but I can't stand peggy for whatever reason. Like I won't go online and comment hate on her but I just choose to ignore her. If u ship tho go ahead tho it's legal and not toxic

I think I've covered all of natashas sapphic ships, or at least all the bigger ones. Some.of these probably sound rlly confusing...I'll probably do captain marvel or she hulk next

[elenarodriiguez]

day five: “let me see” | b.m.

summary: it was obvious that bobbi was pushing herself to get back to where she used to be, thankfully you’re there to help her when she does.

pairing: bobbi morse x inhuman!reader

cw: past torture, major injury

word count: 951

Since you’d been recruited by Agent Johnson, guiding you through your inhuman transition, you’d come to learn a great deal about your future teammates. Agent Fitz is a snack fiend, pulling them out of thin air at any circumstance; Agent Hunter’s love language is acts of service, procuring anything anyone even offhandedly mentions wanting; Agent Johnson is the worst person to be around in the mornings.

The only one you’d had any real trouble getting a read on is Agent Morse. You’d heard whispers floating around the halls of the Playground about the things she’d endured at the hands of Hydra, and you’d witnessed parts of her recovery for yourself. But except for brief interactions in the gym while she was rehabbing her knee, she was basically a ghost on the base.

You know it isn’t personal, she’s been hiding from everyone including Agent Hunter, whose romantic history with Agent Morse is up for discussion at every gossip session you overhear. But it still leaves you wanting to know more about her, hanging back after your training sessions with Agent Johnson on the off chance she shows up for physio.

It takes three weeks to finally catch her out, Agent Morse training at the same time as you due to a time sensitive analysis. You keep an eye on her, watching her push herself past her limits, you can practically feel her pain reaching out to you, begging you to do something about it. There were an awful lot of things you didn’t understand about your powers, all the scientists could deduce was that it was related to energy absorption, and that somehow meant you could absorb pain from someone.

Normally you could ignore the urge to do something about it, but Agent Morse isn’t any regular person, and the way she’s pushing herself, you’re scared she’ll do serious permanent damage to her knee. As soon as you’re alone with her, you go over to her treadmill, incrementally slowing down her speed and lowering the incline of the machine until she can stop safely. She keeps giving you a funny look but she doesn’t try to argue with you, her run grinding to a halt.

She hobbles off of the machine once it’s stationary, trying her best to mask her limp on the walk between the treadmill and the nearest bench. It’s a valiant attempt, in fact if you weren’t so concerned that her knee would give out on her you’d have considered letting her tough it out. Instead, you ignore her protestations and help her across the gym, the faintest tendrils of the painful energy twisting up your arms and making you hiss in shock when the muted stab of pain hits you. The blonde agent tries to pull away from you, but you channel your most Agent May-like glare and tighten your grasp on her waist.

Once she sits down on the bench, you spring into action, elevating her bad leg onto the spare set of clothes that you’d brought with you. She insists that you don’t need to do any of this, that she’s more than capable of doing this herself, but you settle for glaring at her again until she stays silent.

“I appreciate the help, but I’m fine. I just overdid it a little.”

“No disrespect Agent Morse, but this,” you pause, dramatically motioning at her swollen knee, “isn’t overdoing it a little. If it had only been you pushing yourself slightly then your pain wouldn’t have been strong enough to call out for me to take it.”

“Well, I’m fine now then, thank you for your help, I’m sure you have better things to do.”

“Like what? Sit in my pod or watch Agent Hunter make moon eyes at Agent Fitz? If I can speak out of my place?” Agent Morse nods resignedly, clearly accepting defeat. “This mission you’ve embarked on to recover on your own and make up for lost time isn’t helping anyone, especially you. Let me see your knee, I’ll take the pain this time but if this happens again I’ll be the first to go to Agent May and tell her everything.”

Agent Morse stares at you, her head tilting to the side as if this were the first time she was seeing you. Your hands hover above her knee, not wanting to do anything intentional without her permission, and after a long minute she nods her head, flicking her ponytail behind her and gesturing for you to go for it. She watches with curiosity alight in her eyes as the crimson tendrils dance up your arms, illuminating your skin and altering the atmosphere of the room.

The energy stings as it seeps into your skin, even being aware of it never really stops the sensations that using your abilities generates, but as you watch the tension seep from her body, you carry on despite your skin feeling like it’s on fire. As soon as the pain has completely disappeared, you go to remove your hands and leave Agent Morse alone, but she clumsily places a hand on yours, anchoring you to the perch you’d taken up.

Your eyes flick up at hers, relishing in the sleepy smile she aims in your direction, and when she eventually lets go, you feel somewhat empty at the loss. Pushing yourself off of the ground, you head towards the door, almost missing her calling out your name. Turning your head to look at her, she clears her throat, trying to find the words she wanted to say.

“Call me Bobbi.” is what she settles on, and you can’t help but think that this is the start of something new for the pair of you.

[snowontop]

Saw Multiverse of Madness last night and it was the kick I needed I think. I've been wanting to write and struggling to write and for a lot of various reasons and so I encourage you to react to this post or DM me if you want to write. Below will be a list of characters I write with bold characters being stronger at the moment. I'm open to discuss any ship so please hit me up. I prefer CC x CC but will consider a CC x OC interaction. THIS IS DISCORD RP ONLY PLEASE.

✫ Bobbi Morse — Adrianne Palicki ✫ Brock Rumlow — Frank Grillo ✫ Christine Palmer — Rachel McAdams ✫ Clint Barton --- Justin Hartley ✫ Elektra Natchios — Elodie Yung ✫ Felicia Hardy — Katie Cassidy ✫ Frank Castle — Jon Bernthal ✫ Gwen Stacy — Emma Stone ✫ James ‘Logan’ Howlett — Hugh Jackman ✫ James Rhodes — Don Cheadle ✫ Karen Page ---- Deborah Ann Wohl ✫ Kate Bishop  —  Hailee Steinfield ✫ Layla El-Faouly — May Calamawy ✫ Marc Spector / Steven Grant — Oscar Isaac  ✫ Maria Castle — Brianne Howey ✫ Mobius M. Mobius — Owen Wilson ✫ Natasha Romanova — Scarlett Johanson or Elena Satine ✫ Peggy Carter  — Hayley Atwell ✫ Pepper Potts — Sarah Rafferty ✫ Peter Parker — Andrew Garfrield ✫ Stephen Strange — Benedict Cumberbatch ✫ Steve Rogers — Chris Evans ✫ Tony Stark — Santiago Cabrera ✫ Victor Von Doom — Oscar Isaac ✫ Vision — Paul Bethany ✫ Wanda Maximoff — Elizabeth Olsen ✫ Yelena Belova — Florence Pugh

** I have two other muses to add to this but I would consider them spoilers so I did not include them here. **

[babbushka]

March Fic Recap (2021)

Howdy folks! It’s officially April and you know what that means, a little compilation post of all the writing I posted over the past month. I’m sorry that March wasn’t a particularly active month for me, but I’ve got some plans up my sleeve for April that I really think you guys will enjoy! I hope you will anyway lol. 

Some housekeeping: 

If you’d like to be added to my taglist for future writing uploads, please click here!

If you’d like to see my complete collection of works, please visit my Masterlist here! 

If you’re new to the blog, I invite you to please read through my FAQ! 

I also upload all my chapter fics and oneshots to my archiveofourown account which you can find here!

Alrighty, now on to the compilation! 

Oneshots:

Gold Medal Girl ; Biker!Kylo Ren x Reader**

Happily Ever After Part 1, Part 2** ; Flip Zimmerman x Reader (Fantasy AU) 

Poolside ; Flip Zimmerman x Reader**

The Rabbi Is Coming ; Flip Zimmerman x Reader

Burnt Bridges & Goodnight Kisses; Flip Zimmerman x Reader x Kylo Ren

Character Headcanons

Which of the boys are best at eating pussy HCs***

Ticklish spots for all the Kylo AUs HCs

Lawyer!Kylo Ren & Bond Villain!Kylo Ren’s grudges/vendettas HCs

Supreme Leader Kylo mini HCs

Flip Zimmerman boxing recreationally HCs

Flip Zimmerman’s kids trying to find the afikomen during Seder dinner HCs

Flip & Pale’s grudges/vendettas HCs

Paterson mini HCs

Character Imagines:

Flip Zimmerman

Sex in the woods with Flip Zimmerman on a family camping trip***

Flip Zimmerman being very possessive & beating the shit out of some creep***

Flip Zimmerman learning morse code and using it to tell you secret messages

Flip Zimmerman and his Darling Jewish Wife wrestling over the last piece of matzo toffee after Seder dinner

Clyde Logan

Skinny dipping with Clyde Logan*

Clyde being nervous about attending his first Passover Seder

Kylo Ren

Supreme Leader Kylo making his Knights watch him fuck you on his throne***

Pale

Pale fingering you at the piano where he rehearses***

Charlie Barber

Charlie Barber showering you with excessive PDA post-divorce

Paterson

Paterson explaining the steps of Seder dinner

The total wordcount for March comes in at 56,420! 

Thank you so much to everyone who sent in prompts (I’m still working on a big chunk of them lol) and to those who read and interact with the writing!! Your comments, likes and reblogs mean the absolute world to me! I hope that April treats us all kindly, and I’m sending everyone my love! 

** = NSFW Content 

[urban-witch101]

(Byakuya Togami x Reader? That's how this idea started.) - Danganronpa 1 Ghost AU - "They Failed."

Oh it's as funky as it sounds. Just trust me on this one. Also, big fat Trigger Warning for assault, s3xual assault, murder, and angst.

Hope's Peak Academy is reportedly the most haunted high school in Japan. After the Most Tragic Incident the world had ever seen, the class of 78 was forced into a recorded killing game run by their fellow classmates Junko Enoshima and Mukuro Ikusaba and failed to survive. The Future Foundation, after eventually beating Despair and restoring peace to the world, established the high school as a National Monument to the pain and suffering of the students and turned it into a museum recording the history.

There are too many stories of the passed students to count, some from construction workers and some from ghost hunters. These are their sightings.

============================================

Yasuhiro Hagakure is reportedly the most active ghost, which makes sense as the Ultimate Clairvoyant.

He tends to greet visitors at the entrance.

If you drop your hat or gloves and don't notice, you'll find them by the coat rack later for you to find.

Children tend to see him the most, or they hear a whispered joke in their ear if they're particularly upset at any of the Despair history.

He doesn't tend to interact with adults a lot, but he's known to follow the descendants of all their relatives or friends to make sure they're okay.

10/10 ghost, very friendly and a chill dude. Makes sure kids are okay.

Toko Fukawa is rarely seen or heard, but if she's there you know.

She hangs out in the bathrooms with the most common sightings being in the mirrors.

She's often found playing with her braids or grimacing at guests if there are a lot of people.

The friendliest sighting was when a child got lost and found their way to the women's bathroom.

When the panicked mother finally found them, their child was calm and content while playing with a stuffed toy they know they didn't bring.

When the child was guided to leave, they turned and waved goodbye to the mirror.

8/10, antisocial but harmless.

Genocider Syo is extremely active.

She likes pulling pranks on tall, skinny men, like throwing their wallets across the room and pinching their elbows.

If said men are blonde with blue eyes, they will tend to feel watched whenever the enter the building and will continue to think so until they leave.

Children tend to be scared of her, but if she sees a scared child she'll tend to leave the room so they're more comfortable.

She likes knocking over stuff, books and coffee mugs in particular.

However, if the staff scold her she'll knock it off.

She never knocks over artifacts, but people have seen her scissors rattle in their case.

8/10, harmless prankster.

Leon Kuwata can be found in the First-Floor Dorms.

People report hearing guitar strings playing in the boys bathrooms.

If someone mentions baseball around his dorm, mirrors and glass will crack or straight up shatter.

Paranormal investigators once spent the night in his old room, but they "forgot" to take off their shoes and slept above the covers.

They woke up with a blanket that hadn't been in the room covering them and their shoes neatly placed by the side of the door.

That same investigator used a Spirit Box to try and talk to him about what happened in the school.

Of course their older generations saw what happened live, but they never spoke of it.

"Do you have anything you need to say?"

"I'm so sorry."

6/10, ow.

Hifumi Yamada can be found in the kiln room in the Art Studio.

People hear camera clicks, as if he's still taking pictures.

Pencils will roll when the floor is completely flat.

He likes messing with the kiln and knocking off the hammers.

He loves playing the flashlight game.

If anyone mentions Celestia Ludenburg, people swear the room falls into a heavy and tense silence.

When everyone leaves the kiln, they feel his conflicting pain.

Anger? Sadness? They don't know. He's still grieving.

6/10, more ow.

Kiyotaka Ishimaru is silent unless he needs to talk.

He only talks if you do something wrong.

He doesn't play any of the games.

If you run in the museum, people swear they hear a loud voice telling them to stop.

If the staff breaks the rules at all, they straight up get smacked in the shoulder.

Groups of friends, particularly men, feel very welcome in his dorm room.

They all leave after a friendly, invisible squeeze is given to them on the arm.

6/10, he'll never change.

Mondo Owada has one reported sighting.

When construction to restore the building was going on, there was an incident between a worker and a girl on the street one afternoon.

He took her behind the building and attempted to hurt her.

A man in a Crazy Diamond gang jacket, which it should be noted that it doesn't exist anyore, pulled him off and hit him with a pick axe.

After the assaulter was unconscious, her savior didn't say a word; he looked at the girl up and down, presumably checking her for injuries, and passed her a card with a phone number before nodding to her and walking off.

It was the local s3xual assault line, which had been established only two years prior.

After she called the number, she was never able to find the card again.

She didn't even put two and two together until she visited the finished museum and saw Mondo's picture.

No one has ever seen him since.

10/10, badass.

Sayaka Maizono is in one of the boy's bathrooms in the dorms.

Visitors report feeling unnerved or even scared when they enter the bathroom.

She will not interact with you.

She doesn't like playing any of the games. Do not turn on the spirit box in her bathroom, the shower glass will crack.

One investigator decided to spend the night in the bedroom and turned on the shower in the morning.

When they got out, there was a message written in the fog on the mirror.

"LEON."

1/10, no fucking thank you.

Aoi Asahina hangs around the pool room.

She's reportedly like Hiro.

She's been seen walking the halls everywhere.

Children love visiting the pool room. They tend to feel excited and safe.

At night you can hear the pool splashing when no one is inside.

She has one recorded incident.

A child brought a small bag of donut holes to snack on.

Said child began to complain that "the air" kept pulling the donut holes out of his hands.

So they ran an experiment.

They dropped one on purpose and watched it roll away towards the pool room. After that, they didn't feel anymore pulls.

Now it's a tradition to leave a donut for her on Obon by the pool room or her dorm room.

Staff report donuts pulling themselves apart to share. If staff take a half that is offered, the treats are always gone by the next morning.

9/10, a whole mood.

Chihiro Fujisaki is relatively quiet.

They can be found in the boy's locker rooms by the pool.

People will smell a slight perfume over the chlorine.

Muscular men in particular will feel an odd sense of guilt when entering.

There was a guest, who was a muscular man, who took out their phone to record the room and listened back to it to find bits and pieces of the audio were gone.

They took it to a friend who deciphered it into a message in Morse code.

"I forgive you."

9/10, holy ow.

Celestia Ludenburg is only active in the kitchen.

Investigators have put on a full pot of tea water with no heat on the stove.

If they leave and come back, they'll find the pot whistling with the heat still off. The water is always the perfect temperature.

She is never active at night.

She'll only use the spirit box on Obon, but you have to make her a cup of milk tea first.

She's very picky about it.

There was one who got it right on the first try.

"Well finally," the box picked up. "Have some."

She will share details only she would know.

"I don't want to be rude, but do you have any regrets?"

A moment of silence. The cup on the table left for her shakes for just a moment.

"I have too many."

6/10, talkative but be careful.

Kyoko Kirigiri has never talked, but you'll hear her.

Staff will hear her heels clicking in the halls at night.

She likes writing in people's notebooks.

Random strangers will enter with an empty pocketbook and leave with a full one.

She loves to write.

She tells her side of the story.

If the mirrors ever fog up, she's there scratching out letters and numbers.

She also turns on the coffee pot in the kitchen.

Intuitive teenagers tend to know when she's there because they feel safer in rooms that people normally aren't comfortable in.

She writes clues to all the murders that she was never able to solve.

She's not done yet. She's made it very clear that she is not at peace.

9/10, talkative and informative.

Sakura Ogami is said to be hanging around in the recreational room where she committed suicide.

Children feel safe in there, but they never play with the old equipment.

There is an unspoken rule among them that they all know and have never discussed as soon as they walk in.

Some thrill-seekers sit in her chair.

They report feeling their head throbbing and intense nausea, some even passing out from the pain.

They also report intense guilt.

One child sat in the seat without thinking about it and they reported being fine but feeling a little sad.

She plays the flashlight game with investigators, but only if they're nice.

One turned on a spirit box and gave her a cup of tea on Obon.

"Thank you."

8/10, don't sit in her fucking chair you dumbass.

Mukuro Ikusaba is heard rarely.

Like Mondo, she has one reported calling.

In the gym, late at night, you can hear a quiet sobbing.

Children will hear a crying girl in their head:

"I didn't want this."

3/10, how is this even more ow.

Junko Enoshima is heard in the execution room.

Staff used to think there were multiple ghosts in there, but it turns out it's just her.

She laughs, cries, and shrieks.

The story is that she killed herself with her own executions after succeeding in the killing game.

At night investigators play the flashlight game with her.

Every visitor is always unnerved by her.

There is an unspoken bitterness towards her.

She doesn't deserve her success.

0/10, scary bitch.

Makoto Naegi is seen everywhere.

The Ultimate Lucky Student loves telling his story.

He's seen in windows and mirrors with his hoodie and a warm smile.

He's always kind and welcoming.

People leave him popular snacks at his dorm room on Obon.

He never speaks, he just likes watching everyone learn about them.

If children ever get lost he leads them back to their parents.

They'll always tell their family about the "nice boy with brown hair" who takes their hand gently and leads them to safety.

He feels a duty to protect the staff. They never feel alone at night. He's always there to keep them safe.

The descendant of Komaru Naegi, who happened to be a paranormal investigator, once spent the night in his old dorm room.

She reported hearing quiet crying and sniffling that morning before she opened her eyes and was flooded with a sense of relief.

Oh thank god, she was okay.

10/10, heart of gold.

Byakuya Togami is seen in one room and one room only.

He is the only one that people regularly see in the flesh as a full figure.

He's sitting in the library, reading a murder mystery novel.

He has never acknowledged any of the guests, except for one.

A small child, a descendant of Togami's old butler, gently knocked on the table to get his attention and waved politely. They thought he was a staff member.

He looked up at them, gave a little wave back, and went back to his book.

When they turned away and looked back, he was gone.

Staff will see him walking back to his room when the museum is closing up.

He's snobby, sure, but he has his manners. He won't purposefully get in the way of the staff.

9/10, super chill.

???

There is an unknown ghost that has one known/recorded interaction.

One night a paranormal investigator spent the night exploring the building.

They walked in the library to see Togami with a book and a lamp on that was previously off.

They nodded at him politely and went to the bookshelves to "find a book". They turned on a spirit box and stayed quiet.

The library door opened and closed.

They hear a passing conversation.

"Hello love."

A kiss, presumably on the knuckles.

"How was today?"

"Tiring", says a voice. "Lot of cleaning. Did you get any visitors?"

A chuckle. "Too many. I think they can see me."

"Probably."

A pause.

"Togami?"

"Hm?"

"Do you think they'll ever figure out what really happened here?"

Hesitance. "For their sake, I hope not."

============================================

Feedback would be lovely. Thank you for your time!

[hotpinkboots]

can i get a headcanon of lorme x urmom I mean

Hello there, pinkboots(PONKBO-). How are you?

Ok i cant be serious now uh

“PINK YOU MOTHERFUCCER WHERE ARE MY KIDS”

“.”

“Wait nevermind their in my fluff”

Subbies: kehheh

~Lorme x Reader Headcanons~

~~~~~~~~

"Tsk tsk, my my, Prince of Subcon. You should have more respect for your old War Commander."

"..."

"and i stole one of your subbies ok I love you bye"

Pink kisses the ghost.

Snatcher has been stunned for 20 seconds.

~~~~~~~

I'm doing absolutely fabulous,

💜🖕MeatEaterPerson69🖕💜

~~~~~~~

Enjoy~

~~~~~~~

~Lorme will NOT warm up to you immediately. He'll stand there, either staring directly at you, or ignoring you. He's intimidating, horrifying, if being completely honest.

~He is mute. Cannot speak. Not even a word, not a sound he can make. Even his footsteps are silent. It doesn't make a noise if he drops something. Not only is his voice muted, everything he does is silent. Thank Kloac for that curse.

~He can, of course, tap his cane on the ground. I hope you plan to learn Morse code.

~The man never learned sign language.

~Lorme gets a bit used to your (annoying) presence after quite a few times of seeing you. He will never approach you. He will never greet you. The only way to get to him is to interact with him yourself.

~This isn't him playing hard to get- he's just used to standing there, waiting for something...ominous. Something terrifying. Something to happen. Everyday is dark for him.

~Let me get this straight: Lorme is NOT EVIL. He's quite the opposite, actually. Just because he just stands there menacingly, in all black and a scary as hell mask, does not mean he's evil. Don't judge a book by it's cover. The second someone shows signs of being hurt or sick, he jumps in and helps. He was and is a doctor, after all. A good one, too. He's got a sweet heart despite his cold personality.

~When you begin to bother him and make random conversation with him, it won't seem like it makes a difference, but it truly does. Deep down he thinks, "...Somebody has decided to approach me. And that somebody desires my friendship. How very strange."

~Do not be frustrated if he walks away during your "conversation" with him.

~Lorme is annoyed easily, so don't try to be too friendly or constantly bother him.

~After a long, long time of working with him, he'll open up and answer some questions, tapping with his cane on the wall or floor to respond to you.

~He's that scary dude who stands there in the corner, but would 100% do Just Dance 2015 You Spin Me Right Round with you if you asked.

~Not only would he do it, but he would 101% win against you (or anyone for that matter)

~Lorme is very poetic (gets it from his older brother..), and will definitely write poems and love letters to you.

~Overheats easily due to his mask and heavy clothing. His breathing can be loud sometimes, and he'll seem more drowsy than usual. Will be more than happy to allow you to undo the leather hood around his neck, and place a cool washcloth on his soft, shiny feathers.

~He is ridiculously smart, and can always tell if there's something wrong, mentally or physically. Will give you check ups often.

~...If you have a headache or an ache in your body- or really anything having to do with being hurt-, DO NOT let him take care of you. There are certain things he does that will be soothing, but he learned to literally drill a hole in someone's head when they have a headache. He's an old fashioned doctor. Just because his remedies work, doesn't mean you should let him use them. Oh lawd he comin

~Lorme can play the piano! While he definitely can't sing (he used to have a wonderful voice when he could speak...), he's a professional at those beautiful ivory keys.

~He used to be very musical, actually. Before he became a doctor, Lorme simply wanted to be a pianist...he actually taught himself to play. Would be overjoyed, and hell, even a bit flustered if you asked him to play!

~Very calm to be around, and as I said, his mask smells of lavender (again, to keep the smell of death and disease away from his face). Wonderful at soothing panic and anxiety.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~Love, PinkBoots

EDIT: Upgraded and updated Lorme recently, so a few of these headcanons are not completely accurate anymore.