#-was very anxious this morning for mostly no reason

[planet-hwa]

୨୧  the remedy to resistance – 우영    ↳   chapter 1 ; immunity to my charms

  ୨୧  summary     without regret — the last thought before falling asleep next to your best friend after finally giving into temptations, so why did you feel so strange the next morning? it wasn’t regret but an unknown emotion; unexplainable and underlying with anxious thoughts and over thought questions… maybe you should’ve stayed in your content state of immunity and denial, then you wouldn’t be fighting yourself to avoid him.

pairing     fratboy!wooyoung x reader genre     angsty best friends to lovers… and of course with smut *kiss kiss* word count    6.5k

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warnings     MDNI !!  overthinking/anxiety, mentions of a hangover, mentions of jealousy, hickeys/marking, dry humping, nipple/breast play, fingering, cunnilingus, orgasm denial, overstimulation, one line of degrading but mostly praising, begging, blowjob, hair pulling, gagging/choking, slight cockwarming, unprotected sex [no go irl], cowgirl and missionary, slight ruined orgasm

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the look of love, the rush of blood now playing   no. 1 party anthem ; arctic monkeys ⇄  ◁  II  ▷  ↺

⋮≡  in queue     ◦  champagne coast ; blood orange     ◦  i wanna be yours ; arctic monkeys     ◦  friends ; chase atlantic     ◦  the beach ; the neighbourhood     ◦  you get me so high ; the neighbourhood

Without regret.

After all the years of avoiding flirtatious remarks, repressing your non-platonic feelings and staying content in a complete state of denial, you finally fell into temptation — all because Wooyoung threatened to hook up with a girl you didn’t like, the jealousy of it boiling over you. You never thought it would happen, holding a remaining belief of it. And yet, here you were, a week into avoiding him for no apparent reason. Multiple texts ignored, missed phone calls piling up in your voicemail, all from one very confused person.

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Saturday morning

The morning after the party was quiet, not filled with the usual morning rustles of the frat house. The sunlight glimmered through the cracks of the curtains, setting the room with an orange tinge. You swivelled your head and peaked over your shoulder at the digital clock on his night stand: 8:59 which quickly flicked to 9:00. Considering the exciting night you had last, you expected yourself to be waking up closer to noon.

The sheets shuffled next to you, turning your head to watch as Wooyoung had flipped to his side and was now facing you, still in a deep slumber and softly snoring. His hair fell across his face and his expression was peaceful. You observed as his facial muscles slightly twitched every few minutes, similar to how a cat does when they’re dreaming. A soft smile grew on your face as you thought about the events of last night, not the party but what happened once the two of you left.

You finally gave in to your temptations for Wooyoung, after always being so adamant that you would never hook up with your best friend, or even admit that you had feelings for him to him. But when he reciprocated those feelings? It was like fireworks burst in your heart, every ounce of love you had for him — platonic and romantic — exploded and shot through your entire body. No man had ever made you feel like that, no matter how much you were interested in them.

The peaceful state of mind was ruined as sudden thoughts of anxiety began flooding your brain, conversations that were blurred by the hangover and unknown to you if they were real or not. 

“Is that why you looked so mad just now? Because I was hooking up with her?” Wooyoung scoffed, pushing his hair back with his hand just for the front strands to fall back to covering his face. The emphasis on the last word proved he already knew the answer. He knew how you felt about her and how she felt about you. He knew that you usually didn’t care about his hookups, but because it was with her; you cared. He knew that you being upset wasn’t just because of her.

“Why would you even go for her when you could get any girl you want?”

“Because the girl I want doesn’t seem to want me back.” He slowly drifted towards you, settling himself in between your knees and resting his hands on your thighs. “Don’t you?”

Did this actually happen, was I dreaming it?

“You know,” He purred, petaling kisses from your chest and down to your belly, falling lower and lower until he sat between your legs. “I’ve always dreamt about this; how you’d look… how you’d feel… how you’d taste.”

Did he actually say that, or was I blinded by orgasmic bliss?

A nausea swelled in the pit of your stomach, fueled by anxiety and the lingering effects of alcohol in your system. You needed to get out of there, right now, before you mentally broke down. Quickly gathering your clothes and throwing them on, but still wearing the shirt Wooyoung gave you to sleep in, you silently left his room and tip-toed down the stairs into a pitiful escape.

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Thursday midday

Your exam results sat on the table next to you, staring at you in torment. San sat across from you, stuffing a sub into his mouth whilst watching as you glared at the unopened papers, his brows furrowed in confusion to your hesitation. This was one of the things you had been thinking about all week, not particularly excited for it. 

The other thing on your mind? 

Jung Wooyoung.

Wooyoung who has been your best friend since the start of college. Wooyoung who you would never have feelings that exceeded your friendship. Wooyoung who you gave in to and hooked up with, only to leave in a hurry in the morning out of sheer anxiety, embarrassment, disgust in yourself, guilt. Wooyoung who you had successfully, but with extreme challenge, managed to avoid all week — leading you to be glued to San and your girlfriends all week. He didn’t mind of course, he adored being around you, but he was definitely curious. He noticed how any time Wooyoung would walk by, your eyes would shift. It was even more obvious when you would turn away after noticing him walking in your direction. San even tried talking to him, asking what the tension between the two of you was, but Wooyoung would brush it off as a small disagreement and swiftly change the subject — because he too was unsure of the tension between you.

San watched your eyes burn holes through the paper, frankly getting sick of the silent until he plucked up the courage to break it. “Can I ask you a question-”

“I’m gonna open it.” The rope of anxiety and slight anger snapped within you, causing your tone to be more aggressive than intended which you noticed and hurriedly apologised for.

“I wasn’t gonna ask that, but that’s okay.” A light chuckle left him as he took another bite of his sandwich before continuing. “What’s going on with you and Wooyoung?”

The mention of the name caused your eyes to widen and shoot up at him, a look of slight shock sat on San’s face at your expression. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I just noticed that you guys have sort of… avoided each other, all week.” Taking a final bite of his sandwich and violently chewing the big piece, almost choking on it. “I mean, the last time I saw you guys talk was at the party, so did something happen there?”

“Did you guys hook up or something?” He let out a small laugh at the ridiculous idea, it immediately dropped as he noticed your face glow a bright red. “Oh my god, you did.”

You began to shuffle in your seat, avoiding all eye contact and feeling your face grow more flushed by the second, the exam papers suddenly becoming of extreme interest to you.

“About damn time.”

“Wait…what?” Confusion furrowed between your eyebrows as you stared at the boy, him only looking at you with an innocent face as if he didn’t just drop the most open-ended statement. He rolled his eyes as he realised you weren’t playing dumb, you were actually dumb. Dumb enough to not notice the obvious looks of love from Wooyoung all these years, the remarks of flirtatious with evident intent, the physical touches that were held for longer amounts of time to be just friends.

You were completely oblivious to all of it.

Well… you chose to be.

Because in reality: you did notice all of these things. But you had pushed down your own feelings from the day you met due to insecurity and uncertainty. Of course, there was always the hope of Wooyoung’s intent to be true, but what if it was just pure friendship and you made a move causing the awkward end of it. Dealing with rejection was hard enough, but losing a best friend in the process of it? That would be unbearable.

“Wow, you really are an oblivious idiot.” San laughed, your lips curling into a small pout. “He talks about you all the time, it’s actually a little annoying.” You kick him lightly under the table, his eyes turning into crescent moons while he’s giggling.

“I mean, I was never truly sure until the first time we hooked up. After you left, he kept questioning me on it and I could tell he was jealous even when he denied it. And it happened after every time we hung out.”

A small smile curled at the corners of your lips, the thought of Wooyoung being jealous over you sending soft flutters to your heart. San also mentioned how one time Wooyoung had gotten so bitter over you spending time together that he almost fought San over it, the information increasing the butterflies that grew within your stomach.

“Come to the movie night tonight, he’ll be there and maybe you guys can talk.” San suggested as he began to pack his stuff in his bag and ready to go to his next lecture.

Even with the newly discovered information on Wooyoung’s thoughts on you, anxiety still bubbled inside you at the possibility of rejection. “I don’t know, what if he doesn’t want to talk to me?”

“He will want to, he’s been trying to. You’re the one that has been avoiding him, remember?”

The sudden reality check hit you like a bus. It truly was all in your head, Wooyoung avoiding you, when it was your fault the entire time. Before you can give him a definite answer, your phone buzzes to alarm you of your class in five minutes.

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The living room was filled with bean bags and pillows — a setup made by the oldest frat member, Seonghwa — a variety of snacks and drinks lay on the coffee table in the middle. Yunho and Mingi sat on the floor, attempting to throw popcorn and catch it in their mouths, ultimately getting scolded by Seonghwa every time they missed and how he was not cleaning up their mess again. He was snuggled into a bean bag since you and San stole the couch, his arm flung comfortably over your shoulders, the rest of the frat members being out: including Wooyoung.

Although it took some convincing, San eventually managed to persuade you to join the movie nights like you usually would. This was also his attempt to break some of the tension between you and Wooyoung, hoping that you would go off somewhere and talk. But fortunately for you: he wasn’t there, though you held some hope that he would be. You did want to talk to him, to confide in him like you usually would when you were stuck in a cycle of overthinking, but it was hard since he was the reason for it. But due to him not being there, it would have to wait until another time.

The night had grown darker as the tv continued flipping through action scenes, the light setting a dim glow across the room. Mingi, now passed out, was lightly snoring into Yunho’s shoulder, the tallest boy being used to the younger boy’s clinginess and it not bothering him. Seonghwa was immersed in the movie, it being his favourite from the Star Wars franchise, whilst stuffing his face with cold pizza. Your head now rested on San’s lap, his fingers intertwined and playing with your hair softly, his other hand occupied by silent scrolling through tiktok. He didn’t have much interest in Star Wars but still paid attention by glancing up for a few minutes and right back down to his phone.

The click of the front door sounded through the room, opening with a slight squeak. The tv was blocking your vision so you couldn’t exactly tell who it was-

“Wooyoung!” Yunho cheered, accidentally jolting a sleepy Mingi awake.

A small smile grew on your face as you look up at the boy who walks in, soon followed by a blonde girl. 

Her.

The one he left at the party to be with you was now standing next to him, hands interlinked with each other. Wooyoung sends a quick hello through the room, as does she when she catches your eye, a sly smirk growing on her face as she pulls him up the stairs in a haste. Before he was ushered away, he caught a glimpse of familiar saddened eyes that rested on San’s lap, his eyes widening slightly at the sight of you. A feeling of regret fell over him. He hadn’t seen you in almost a week, noticing how you avoided the glances he’d send your way or how you’d walked around corners after noticing him in your line of travel. All he wanted to do was talk to you and hug you deeply. And now here he was: willingly taking the girl who you hated and who inevitably was the cause for the two of you to hookup, upstairs to his room for the same thing right in front of you.

And god did it hurt you.

“Wooyoung, come dance with me again!” She whined pathetically. Her gaze — turned to a glare — went to your connected hands, face screwing at the sight. 

“Not interested sweetheart.” Wooyoung dismissed and continued up the stairs, ignoring her scoffs.

“You’re not seriously gonna hook up with this whore, are you? She wouldn’t be as good as me and you know it-”

“I said fuck off, didn’t I?”

The girl came bolting down the stairs ten minutes later, sending curses throughout the house before swiftly leaving. Wooyoung was quick to follow her down, instantly met with curious looks from the rest of the group. Seonghwa grabbed the remote and paused the movie to watch the boy, a slightly distressed mask sat upon his face.

“Damn, couldn’t get it up?” Yunho chuckled but was quickly silenced by the sharp daggers that Wooyoung shot at him. His gaze moved around the room, noticing the absence of someone.

“Where’s Y/N?” His eyebrows were furrowed, concern lacing his voice.

“She left about ten minutes ago.” San sighed and shook his head, a look of disappointment sent towards Wooyoung’s direction. Without hesitation, Wooyoung grabbed his car keys and sped off down the road towards the university dorms, pushing through the speed limits to get to you.

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Curled up under your covers, tears stained your cheeks as you sobbed into the pillow. The thought that he had already moved on, and with his original hook up plan, was too much. It hurt more than any argument you had between each other, your heart aching hopelessly in your chest. But what did you expect, really? You guys made a huge mistake by pushing the friendship boundaries to more, now suffering the consequences of unresolved feelings. Even if you were ready to talk about it, you were too late.

As soon as he was upstairs and out of sight, you got up and left in a hurry. San tried to calm you down but ultimately let you go once your eyes met and he saw the waterworks begin to well up in them. If you had stayed just a little longer, you would’ve realised that the girl left shortly after arriving, that Wooyoung looked for you as soon as she left and when realising you were gone, rushed towards you as fast as he possibly could. But if you had stayed, he wouldn’t be knocking desperately on your dorm door right now.

Wiping your burning cheeks of any reminiscence of tears, you shuffled towards the door, eyes blowing in shock to see the man standing in front of you. Panting heavily and leaning his hand against the door frame, his eyes met yours which caused his breath to ease back to normal, just by the small amount of eye contact. Moving out of the way, you let him in, instantly taking his usual spot on your bed as you got him some water from your mini fridge, which he gulped down in no more than a few seconds.

“Did you run here or something?” A soft chuckle leaving you as you watch the boy choke down the liquid.

“Only up the stairs.” He panted through the water bottle breaks. “Why is that elevator always broken-”

“Why are you here, Wooyoung?”

His attempt at breaking any awkward tension was quickly shut down, a serious look masking your face as he looked up at you. The first thing he noticed was your tear-stained face, the puffiness of your cheeks and the red rim in your eyes. His heart broke thinking he was the reason that made you cry. His hands cupped your face gently as he stood up, finger tips tracing the tears, saddened puppy eyes looking down at you.

“I’m sorry.” He spoke no higher than a whisper, almost inaudible. You weren’t really sure why he was apologising considering you were the avoidant one. “I think we need to talk about what happened…” You moved his hands from your face before leading him over to sit on your bed. An awkward silence fell between the two of you, both of you unsure of how to start the conversation before Wooyoung spoke.

“Why have you been avoiding me all week?” He muttered, surprising you with his straightforwardness, but he couldn’t wait any longer — desperate for answers. “Do you… regret it?”

“What? No, of course not.”

“Then why avoid me?” The silence was deafening, the mumble of ‘I don’t know’ floating in the air. Your brain racked through every possible explanation but couldn’t find one, maybe because you weren’t entirely sure why you were avoiding him. He hadn’t given you any reason to, it was just your overthinking and anxious thoughts on the situation that caused you to be distant from Wooyoung, without true meaning behind it. Everytime you tried to explain yourself, the words would get stuck in your throat, leaving you to sit in an extended silence. He was sick of it.

“Look Y/N, I know how you get with stuff like this, how you overthink everything,” He held your hands in his lap, the gentle touch causing butterflies to form in your stomach as your eyes caught each other. 

“I love you, as a friend and as more. As soon as she entered my room, I knew it wasn’t what I wanted… who I wanted. Because, truthfully, all I want is you. All I’ve ever wanted is you, and I was always too scared to tell you because I didn’t want to ruin-”

His sentence was cut short by connecting your lips with his in a soft and gentle kiss. The sparks of built up tension over the years burst between you as you melted into each other’s touch, his hand moving to the nape of your neck. Pulling away, you watched as his gaze softened in yours, cupping his cheek with a delicate touch.

“I love you too.” You breathed in the broken kiss before he hastily reconnected your lips, feeling the smirk on his face whilst his tongue swiped at the bottom of your lip. Your lips parted and his tongue slipped in, the kiss firing with passion the moment your muscles danced together.

Lips pashing together and hands lingering had pushed your back to the bed, Wooyoung now hovering over you with the look of love filtered in his eyes. His tongue traced every part of your mouth, tangling itself between your teeth. His lips were plump and glistened in a coat of saliva, as did yours. As the kiss grew more lustful, you felt your core become more tense, a wet patch growing within your panties. He pulled away, a string of saliva connecting your lips, watching as your face flushed a rosy pink and your eyes grew darker. He was losing all sense of control at the sight, leaning down to place soft kisses on your jawline and neck. You turned to grant his easier access to your neck, his lips finding that sweet sensitive spot within seconds and beginning to suckle lightly on it, eliciting a soft moan to fall from your parted lips. His pants tightened around him at the sound, holding in a groan of his own as he sucked harsh enough to begin to leave a pretty purple mark: one that, next morning, would let everyone know you were his.

Kissing his way back up your jawline, his breath hovered over your lips before attaching them back to yours. The kiss was filled with fire, tongues swirling and teeth clashing as you groaned hopelessly into each other’s mouths. Unconsciously, you rolled your hips upwards to feel friction at your wanting core, eliciting a deep moan from the back of Wooyoung’s throat as you grinded into the hardening bulge in his pants. Desperate for more friction, he slowly began rutting his hips into you, deliciously hitting the heat in your pants. You whined at the feeling, your hips matching his movements and begging for more. You tugged at the hem of his shirt, your lips breaking as he removed it then moving to remove your own. To his glad surprise, your breasts bounced out of your top and showed the lack of coverage, only returned with a sly smirk from Wooyoung.

He lent down and curled his tongue around your hardened nipple, his fingers pinching the other one. He sucked harshly on the bud, tongue swirling around it and nipping it between his teeth. A painful pleasure surged through your nerves, throwing your head back with a whine. His other hand palmed at the soft skin, rolling the bud between his fingers and sending shivers through your body. The teasing motions were expected by him, but he was agonisingly slow with them. He wanted to savour every moment with you, but the wetness growing within your pants was begging him to be inside of you. Almost as if he could read your body like a book, he kissed his way down your stomach and tugged your sweatpants off quickly. His eyes were instantly drawn to the visible wet patch that coated your panties, dragging his finger over it and watching as your body jolted to his touch.

“So wet for me, love.” He placed a soft kiss over your covered clit, you bit your lip to hold the moan that tried to escape you. A devious smirk curled at the corners of his lips as he continued to pepper delicate kisses over your heated core. Your hips moved upwards to chase more friction, but were met with a teasing laugh at your desperation.

“Please Woo… I need you…” You begged pathetically, but he was even more desperate to hear the pretty noises you were trying to contain.

Hooking his fingers underneath the band of your panties, he slowly pulled them down to reveal your glittering soaked folds. He dipped his tongue out to wet his lips as he looked at you, your face flushed with a crimson red and painted with a begging expression. He kissed your upper thighs and around your core, never making contact with where you wanted him most — until he had you begging for it.

Sliding his tongue slowly through your folds, flicking up on your sensitive bud, your arousal collecting on the tip of his tongue. He watched as your body shivered under his touch, soft moans falling through parted lips as he swirled his muscle around your clit. Hungry eyes stared up from between your legs, pupils blown with lust and desire, you didn’t think you could get any wetter but he just proved you wrong. Twisting and twirling his tongue through your heated core, your quiet moans morphing to louder whimpers as his actions increased in speed. It shocked you the way he could drive you so close to the edge of bliss so quickly, feeling your stomach pulse in pleasure and your orgasm getting ready to crash. He watched as your breaths grew hitched and your hips began to lightly grind into his mouth, feeling how close you were to falling off the edge.

“Woo… ‘gonna cum- ahh” You looked down at him as your orgasm was torn away, a smug smirk and hooded eyes glared back at you. A pout turned at your lips, eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the loss of sensation, your hips attempting to chase it but being held down by a rough hand.

“You didn’t think I’d let you go that easy, did you?” A condescending laugh left him as he watched you. “You ignore me all week and think you’re not getting any punishment for it? Wow, you spoiled little slut.”

He ran the pad of his thumb over your extra sensitive bundle of nerves, your body instantly reacting with a jolt and a whine leaving your lips. Waiting for your breath to return to normal, chest bouncing less than before, he reconnected his swollen lips to your clit. Without warning, he began harshly sucking at it, your hand running to grip into his hair which returned you with a moan vibrating through your core and adding extra sensations to the overstimulation. One hand was pushed gently on your lower stomach as his other preoccupied itself with two fingers, toying with your clenching hole before slowly pushing them in. The sensation of his two fingers pumping deep within you had your gummy walls hopelessly constricting, the curling of them pushing against that special spongy spot was driving you closer to another high.

“P-please Woo, I’m so close.” You believed you would never beg a man for anything, but here you were, pathetically whining for Wooyoung to let you cum as your high grew closer. He smirked into your heat, pumping his digits deeper and earning a loud moan to vibrate through the air. The clench was immediate and he knew you were close again. He swirled his tongue at immense speeds, lewd slurping noises filled the room as he hungrily devoured your juicy folds like it was his last meal, your voice forming incoherent words that turned to moans. 

But again, just before the band in your stomach snapped, Wooyoung pulled himself away and laughed as you growled in annoyance.

“Stop teasing me!” You huffed out, exasperation lacing your voice as you caught your breath back. Wooyoung couldn’t help but find you adorable: your flushed cheeks, your swollen lips from biting them, the death glare you sent his way.

“Come on love, don’t be so greedy.” He chuckled, his body moving up yours until he hovered over you once more. You hadn’t noticed that he removed his hands, but the prominent bulge in his boxers that poked at your thigh made you well aware.

He began peppering your face and jawline with delicate kisses, the soft demeanor change started turning your brain to fog. His lips moved over your jawline and neck, tracing the already formed hickeys from earlier.

“Beg for it.” He seductively whispered in your ear before nibbling on the lobe. Lifting his head from your neck, his eye contact was instant, intense and filled with taunting desire.

“Please…” A breathy whine spilled from your lips. “I’m begging… please”

Unhesitating, Wooyoung crawled back down your body and swiftly rekindled his way between your legs, the sharp sting of his tongue hitting your overstimulated bud coursed pleasure through your veins. He pushed your legs up and ordered you to hold yourself by the knees, giving his easier access. The sponginess of his tongue was quickly met with your gummy walls, pumping his muscle in and out and covering it in your built up arousal. Your moans filtered his ears and encouraged him for more, digging his nose into your clit whilst his tongue continued to pound your tight hole.

You could already feel your orgasm about to burst once more, disordered moans and begs purified the air, praying that Wooyoung would finally finish you. Your legs started to shake, even with your hands holding them and knuckles growing white from the intense grip. He groans deeply into your seeping core as you clenched around his tongue once more, your orgasm snapping in your stomach and spilling out — more intensely than expected. Wooyoung drank up every ounce of arousal that leaked out of you, the taste becoming his new favourite beverage.

As you rode out your high, your hips slowly stopped any grinded movements and breath returned to normal, you looked between your legs and eyes widened in shock. Wooyoung’s face was dripping wet, the front strands of his hair slightly sticking to his forehead and not from sweat. You saw the soaked patch that sat between you on your sheets, a wave of embarrassment crashing over you. He only chuckled lowly, licking his lips of your essence and wiping the droplets escaping his chin. Climbing back up your body, he uncovered your hands from your face and placed a gentle yet lustful kiss on your swollen lips, the taste of your arousal mixed in both your mouths as your tongues danced.

He gripped your hips tightly before flipping you over, with you now straddling his waist and lips still connected. You wanted to return the favour, kissing down his neck and chest to meet with the hard-on beneath his boxers. Pulling them down, his dick bounced out and lightly hit his abdomen, the tip swollen and red and leaking with pre-cum. He pulled his hands behind his bed, cockily watching you as you stared at his very hard, very large cock, a large smirk claiming his face.

All of his arrogance was gone the moment your hand wrapped around the base and slowly pumped, your tongue tracing the underside vein. Your lips wrapped around his swollen tip, tongue swiping over the slit and sending chills through his entire body.

You began to gather your hair, holding it up with your free hand before it was replaced with Wooyoung’s grip. He sent you a small wink as you looked up at him, encouraging and assuring you to keep going. He had never seen a hotter sight than your pretty mouth wrapped around his length. You steadily started to bob your head up and down, swirling your tongue over the tip every few bobs, your hand pumping the length you couldn’t fit in your mouth. He growled deeply at the sensation, throwing his head back against the wall and tightening the grip on your hair. The pull at your head made you dizzy with pleasure once more, a moan trembling within your voice and down Wooyoung’s cock. His hips began to buck upwards and match your rhythm, chasing more friction as you continued to pump.

“Fuuck love, you’re doing so good.” He groaned, his voice had a gravelly accent to it.

You could feel his body tensing underneath you, showing you he was about to crack. You slowed down the bobbing of your head, stopping at the tip and suckling it lightly before pushing your mouth down his entire length, the tip hitting the back of your throat. Wooyoung moaned louder than before, the grip on your hair tightening before pulling you up and watching you pant softly.

“Y/N baby, do that again…” Practically whining your name, his dick twitching in your hands, more pre-cum desperately dripping out of it and mixing with your saliva coating. 

And you did exactly what he asked, wrapping your lips around him once again and deep throating the length with every nod.

His moans grew higher with every motion, his abs tensing every time his cock smacked at the back of your throat. Orgasm just sitting on the edge, he clasped your hair with force and encouraged your motions to speed up. Your hand’s grip tensed around his base as his high crashed into him like a tidal wave, his hand holding you down on him causing you to gag around his length — ultimately sending extra sensations for him. His white ropes spilled out into your mouth, leaking from the sides and down your chin as he held you in place, milking him of every string drop. After the final spur of his high calmed, his grip ceased and you lifted your head, swallowing his juice as he watched with a smirk.

A smirk that told you, you weren’t finished.

He grabbed you by the wrist, guiding you up to straddle his waist before watching as you lined yourself up with him. You ran his — still extremely hard — cock through your folds, flinching as the tip hit your clit. Lining yourself up, his hands moved to your hips and helped lower yourself on him, both moaning in unison as the burning sensation. Your walls constricted around him like a python, the feeling of him hitting your gummy spot as he bottomed out was delectable. You started to move your hips before the grip on them tightened.

“Wait love,” Concern instantly washed over your face, only answered by a small hoarse chuckle. “If you move, it’ll be over too quickly.”

You could only giggle in response, leaning down to place a gentle kiss on his lips. There was no time before gentle kisses turned into a passionate makeout, whimpering into each other’s mouths as your tongues twirled together. His hands moved around your entire body, grasping and pinching every inch he could reach. The simple passion quickly escalated once more to pure desire. Wooyoung began to buck his hips upwards, a moan falling through you at the sudden penetration, causing you to disconnect your lips. Desperate for more friction, you sat up and began to rise and fall on him, his hands finding their place on your hips once more.

He guided your motions with a hard grip, hard enough to bruise, but you didn’t care. The pleasure of him was all that mattered to you. You threw your head back as your moans grew higher and bounces became sloppier. How he could get you so close to an orgasm so quickly was beyond you, yet you felt the similar band prepare itself to snap. 

The room was mixing with the scent of sex and the sound of hopeless moans and slaps of skin, both bodies glistened with a sheen of sweat. People who lived in the dorms were certainly aware of the ceremony happening…

Wooyoung watched as you jumped up and down like a bunny, your belly tightening as your orgasm neared. Releasing his grip on one side of your hips, his hand hastily moved you where you were joint, the pad of his thumb rubbing against your over sensitive bud. Within seconds, your hips jolted and walls clenched as your orgasm hit you like bricks. He halted his own high to follow yours, overstimulating your clit with his finger, the restriction around him cursing him to finish himself. Through hooded eyes he watched as you came down from waves of pleasure, waiting for you to calm before his hand quickly circled your waist and flipped you over in seconds. He buried his head in your neck, low groans filtering your ears as he thrusted sloppy and hopelessly into you, biting down on your shoulder. It was seconds before his white ropes spilled into you and filled you up with warmth, his dick twitching as your over sensitive walls clenched around him, bleeding him dry.

Both panting as you calmed from your highs, he started kissing his way back up to your face, peppering your lips with fragile and soft kisses. You wrapped your arms around him and cuddled into his neck, breathing in the cologne scent that drove you insane. Sitting in a comfortable silence, the setting was tranquil and undisturbed as you enjoyed the solidarity of each other’s company before cleaning yourself up and falling asleep.

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

The morning warmth spat through the small window in your dormitory, an orange glow overlaying the room and reflecting off the mirror on the back of your door — directing in your line of vision. Your eyes flickered open attempting to adjust to the bright sensation. In a state of semi-wake, you began to stretch your body before an arm tightened around your waist, followed by an annoyed groan.

“Don’t move, I’m comfortable.” He breathed into your ear, the air warm against your skin as he nestled his head back into your shoulder, lips resting against it.

“You… stayed?” You whispered, slightly turning your head to look at the boy in your bed.

“Of course,” Lifting his head to meet your eyes, a soft smile curled at his lips before he placed a delicate kiss on your cheek. “I don’t just pack up my stuff and leave.”

The not-so-subtle dig earned him a slap to the shoulder, sheepishly giggling before littering your face with kisses. Compared to the intensity of the previous night, he was so soft and full of love in the morning — not expecting any extra pleasure but just enjoying the morning bliss of affection. He wrapped his arms around your waist securely, not wanting to let go before pulling you into his chest. Wrapping a leg around his waist, one hand rested on your thigh whilst the other played with your hair almost sending you back to sleep.

The morning was nice: peaceful.

No guilt or regret travelled from the night before, instead filtered with love and adoration.

However, overthinking still sat in the back of your mind.

“So, what do we do now?” You whispered into his chest, the silence that followed made you unsure if he heard you.

“I’m not sure.” Wooyoung finally breathed out, the calm pattern of his chest rising and falling doing little to calm you.

“I don’t think we can go back to… just being friends.” Mumbling quieter this time, uncertainty laced within your voice. Wooyoung could sense that you were nervous, overthinking the situation like you usually would.

More silence followed, the atmosphere growing slightly awkward.

“I don’t want to go back to that.”

You looked up at him, instantly met with the eye contact he sent down through a sleepy haze. Although you were an abid overthinker, you could see through his hooded eyes that he was genuine.

“Y/N love, I want to be yours: only yours. And I want you to be only mine.” He cupped your face lightly with his cheek, the instant flush to your cheeks obvious to him and causing a small chuckle to fall through his lips before continuing. 

“We should try being together, and if that doesn’t work — even though I’m certain it will — we can go back to being friends and laugh about this whole situation in the future when we’re old and decrepit.”

His humoured seriousness caused you to laugh, hiding yourself in his neck and he ran his fingers through your hair once more.

“Let’s try it.” You whispered into his neck, the instant validation causing Wooyoung to grab your face and stare at you in a shocked bliss: he definitely expected you to distant yourself again and say no. He smiled brightly before pulling you into a tight kiss, hands tangled in your hair and around your body so you wouldn’t disappear.

Without the knowledge of each other’s wishes for a romance, you both granted them together.

author's note hey lovelies !! i hope you enjoy chapter two, sorry it took me so long i had writers block for a bit on this. hopefully it's alright ('>.<') ୨୧ san x reader side will be in the works but probably won't be posted for a while since i have requests and other drafts to catch up on

୨୧ taglist @morethingsfandom @dreamsoffanfics @butterflydemons @youmeandwords @hwascutewife @e3ellie @hoe4kpop @moonlight-hwa @dawn-iscozy @chososho3 @dejatiny @betda @woozit @mystery-girl227 @likeathunderoverflow @santineez @rachs-words @imlonelydontsendhelp @wooyoungjung99 @anonn0n

[greenapplebling]

Do you guys ever think about how much of a contradictory character Jamil is?

Like I don't have the energy rn to write a full essay with proof and all about it but?? The way we're told that Jamil is the kinda person to use someone else for the dirty work but when we look at his actions Jamil actually does a lot of the hard work himself and, specially when it comes to Kalim, refuses to take shortcuts for some goddamn reason???

Shipping aside, am I really supposed to believe Jamil when he says he hates Kalim when:

There's a voice line where Jamil says he actually isn't into cooking but does it for Kalim out of convenience, and yet explains (in his school uniform vignette I think?) that it's probably safe for Kalim to eat food from the cafeteria, which makes sense!!! After all, what kinda idiot would poison the whole school (full of elite students btw) just to get to Kalim?? And yet, Jamil still insists on cooking 3 meals a day every day for him...

Jamil does his hair with magic so he doesn't have to waste time on it, but does Kalim's headpiece and makeup by hand every morning (I know that kind of magic is hard and takes a lot of practice but hear me out, he had at least 5-10 years to practice on Kalim)

At the start of the Glorious Masquerade event, Jamil, despite quite literally having a mental breakdown over how much he doesn't want to take care of Kalim or be around him in book 4, seems very anxious and worried about leaving Kalim... FOR 3 FUCKING DAYS

Also how he thinks he's really good at masking his feelings and true intentions and yet Kalim is waaay better at him at masking. Like no one in-game nor most of the fandom ever seems to realize Kalim often masks his negative feelings with a positive and (intentionally) naive attitude. But when it comes to Jamil? Leona, Azul, Vil, Floyd and whoever else, all of them looked right through Jamil's act and some of them even said/implied Jamil is easy to read...

So yeah, Jamil often lies... mostly to himself

[miss-fanfictions]

Sundays at the Library | Part Two

Part One

Pairing] Spencer Reader x glasses wearing! shy! librarian! fem!Reader

Synopsis] Despite Spencer's best efforts to keep you his Sunday solace, you become all he can think about.

Warnings] Gruesome descriptions of typical CM gore, references to sex, Spencer's POV, insecure/anxious reader, poetry excerpts, like 3k of Spencer pining over reader (sorry not sorry), tech stuff I know nothing about

Word Count] 14.1k

Author's Note] These are links to the poetry from this part: "Your laughter", "The Insect", "And because love battles". Though I use important excerpts, I would highly recommend reading these because I reference them throughout. Sorry to make you do homework but I promise it's cute bc Spencer is falling in love through poetryyyy.

Spencer spent four days in Seattle, but he would be lying if he said that was the only reason he didn’t get to finish all ten of his library books by Sunday. 

He read one book last Sunday evening while sipping tea on his couch and then he read two of them a day from Monday to Wednesday in between his work hours. Early Thursday morning Penelope rallied the troops to the conference room to explain that they were going to Seattle because four women had been found butchered. No case was easy exactly, but this one was especially hard. The women were found in horrific states, cannibalism was suspected, and Spencer was in charge of doing the geographic profile. The problem was the unsub was very criminally sophisticated and it seemed like he had no comfort zone, so Spencer was struggling. To top it all off, one of the victims' mothers had broken down wailing in the police station, right in front of Spencer’s map, begging for someone to find her daughter's killer. . . and the rest of her remains. 

Spencer had nothing he could say to the poor mother. JJ ended up trying to comfort her, old instincts from her liaison days kicking in. He went back to his hotel room that night and cried. It’d been a while since he cried on a case, a few months or so, but it happened every so often with bad ones, mostly children. So he let himself cry on the loveseat in the corner for a few minutes before taking a shower, putting on some soft PJs, and crawling under the covers of his double bed. For a while he stared into the ceiling picturing the map, the circles he drew, and the pins he placed on it. Half the pins marked an abduction site and the other half signified where a body was found. If he concentrated too hard, he could see the bodies in the morgue: their blue lips, sheet like skin, the carved out flesh.

Most people would assume there was no downside to an eidetic memory, but Spencer knew there was. He could remember every horrendous, gruesome detail of a crime scene, a victim's injuries, an unsub’s taunts. It all haunted him, swimming around in his vision and fogging his brain when he wanted peace. Reading helped because it kept his brain busy and his head clear. When he couldn’t take the horror anymore, Spencer leaned over the side of the bed to his go-bag on the floor. 

Inside was a couple outfits, sleepwear, his usual toiletries, and a few of his library books. He wasn’t sure how much time he would have, so he brought all three of his unread ones. When Spencer unzipped the bag, he remembered he brought four borrowed books. The Poetry of Pablo Neruda sat atop the rest of his clothes and books. It must have floated to the top as Spencer rooted through the bag for his comfiest pajamas. He hesitated to bring it up onto the bed, thumbing the curling corners, but eventually took it into his lap. 

Spencer wanted to read the book as soon as he got home from the library. He actually almost blew a stop sign he was in such a rush, which Spencer never did because he was a very careful driver. Some—Derek—would call him too careful, but there wasn’t such a thing as too careful. However because he was so reckless and excited, Spencer couldn’t bring himself to read the book. It was too distracting, too enticing—he couldn’t allow himself the pleasure of it because it would consume him. Already you were nagging his thoughts, distracting him from his day, his job, and he had to curb it somehow. He certainly couldn’t feed into it by reading the book you gave him. So, he decided he would wait until Saturday to read it so you would continue to just be his solace on Sundays. 

But Spencer wanted a distraction, he needed one really, and he wanted it to be you. He opened the book and immediately smiled as he was met with your handwritten notes in pink pen ink. He couldn’t explain why the loops and lines were so you, but they were, and it only made it easier for him to hear them in your gentle whisper. 

Spencer read 20,000 words per minute, but he read close to three per minute as he combed through the poems and your little comments and analyses. He savored them as much as he could, because he could only read them for the first time once and never again would they be so fresh and sweet. Every other line his heart would flutter and his breath would pause as he searched between the stanzas and in the margins for your own reactions. 

Pablo Neruda wrote some powerful political poetry in support of the Communist Party in Chile, but it was only a sliver of the book's poems. The rest of the pages consisted of beautiful and heartbreaking romance poems. As he read them, he thought of you. Because you’d given him the book, of course, and it was your thoughts scrawled out on the page right alongside Neruda’s. In his drowsy head, the words merged, printed black and scribbled pink swirling, and suddenly the woman Neruda was talking about was you. You were the woman he longed to forget, but would forever plague him. You were the woman made for his arms, his kisses, his soul. Your body was the journey his hands itched to make.

But Spencer couldn’t think that of you. When his eyes would glaze and your image would appear on paper, he blinked quickly and rubbed his eyes raw. It was wrong to think of you like that because you were an acquaintance—a friend at best. He had no right, even if you’d given him the book. He thought then about why you’d given him the book. Sure, it was because he reached his check out limit and could always read more, but why had you given him this book? It was clearly a favorite by how worn and full of notes it was, but the notes were your deepest thoughts on love. Obviously he would consider you as he read them. 

He tried not to though, he really did, until he came across “Your Laughter.” Upon its title alone your giggle echoed in his ears and he leaned closer to the lamp light to read it unobstructed. 

“My struggle is harsh and I come back with eyes tired at times from having seen the unchanging earth, but when your laughter enters it rises to the sky seeking me and it opens for me all the doors of life.”

Perhaps he had imagined those other women Neruda wrote about as you, but this was you. Your laughter gave him life, comfort, and he was starting to think he couldn’t be without it. Every stanza solidified it in his mind that he loved your laugh, that he would take it over bread or air, because in the dim library it stole him away from the world and relieved his burdens, if just for a moment. He finally fell asleep in the early hours of the morning with the page open on his chest.

—

On Friday morning Spencer woke with you on his mind, and that couldn’t happen. He had to banish you from his head, lock your memory away in a deep, dark vault just to get his work done, because every time he saw a flower, or a book, or even heard a laugh, he was thinking of a line from The Poetry of Pablo Neruda and you were that poetry. He had to stuff the book at the bottom of his go bag and swear off it until the case was finished—and he did. He redirected his entire focus back to his map, pins, and circles.

But every night when he went back to the hotel, depressed and exhausted, he sought the book out and found comfort in your words. He fell asleep to them and dreamt your thoughts, then woke up in the morning to you clouding his mind and he had to lock you away again to stay focused.

He was successfully able to rid you from his thoughts at work until Sunday when he woke up antsy at the idea you were in a different state. He tried again to concentrate solely on the case, but when his watch rolled over to 11 he got stuck staring at it, thinking about what you were doing on the other side of the country. It was already 2pm in Virginia due to the different time zones. He wondered what you were thinking. Did you stand at the desk, perched over it for the best view of the front doors? Were you also sad when the hour hand crept slowly passed 11 on the grand clock above the door and he did not walk in? Maybe you didn’t care and the day continued as normal. Or maybe you were only upset he was not promptly returning your book. He thought if only he solved the case faster he wouldn’t have to wonder.

He shook his head, shaking you away, then focused back on the map. Not more than 20 minutes later he solved it thanks to a call from Garcia about a fifth missing woman fitting the victimology. When he added a pin to her abduction site, he found the pattern, the comfort zone, and the unsub. He gathered up the map to present his findings to Hotch, to show him where he knew the secondary location had to be, and just like that the police station was bustling with a new vigor. 

They wrapped up the case late Sunday evening. They put away a monster and were able to give that grieving mother and three others closure on what happened to their daughters. That night, a woman went home to her family and Spencer returned to his hotel room, gathered his belongings, and rushed to the jet. He’d never been more ready to get back to Virginia because as exhausted and relieved as he was, he was also sad. He shouldn’t have been, but he was, because 11am came and went in a police station and not in the library ten minutes from his apartment. You’d called him so reliable and he missed it. He should have warned you about his unpredictable hours, he realized, but now he was just anxious to explain himself. He didn’t want to be the unreliable man leaving a trail of disappointment and broken promises, it was so much like his father the thought made him shiver. 

He was so quick to the jet he beat Hotch and JJ, who were always prompt to get back to their kids. She eyed him as he bounced on his heels, checking his watch. It was nearly 9:30pm which meant they would arrive in the early morning anyway. He would return to his apartment and sleep, hopefully for a while, because the library wouldn’t be open for hours. But Spencer bounced with anxiety because he was late and he hated being late. All he did was think and he was overthinking. He hoped you weren’t. 

“Spence?” He realized JJ’s eyes were on him. She had her usual concerned expression, knitted brows and tilted head. “You okay?”

He nodded because he was okay, technically. There was nothing really wrong. “Yeah, of course.”

She didn’t look entirely convinced, and by now Hotch was watching their exchange. “Are you sure? You look a little. . . stressed.”

She wouldn’t give it up then. “No, I just sort of had plans today I missed. I had to return some library books and I don’t like to be late,” he explained, hoping it would soothe her worries. It wasn’t a lie. . . maybe a bit of a half truth, but his weekends were meant to be his and he wasn’t obligated to talk at length about his personal life.

JJ scoffed, checking her phone as she relaxed, calmed by his explanation. Hotch’s eyes swept back across the street, waiting for the others to arrive. “Well, you know better than to make plans. I missed date night with Will again.”

“That sucks,” Spencer hummed absentmindedly, eyes also watching down the road for the rest of the team. 

It was approximately seven minutes later when their SUV pulled up and the six of them boarded the jet. The team took their usual seats, mostly in silence as Hotch did paperwork, Morgan listened to music, and the rest of the team tried to get some sleep. Spencer took the familiar couch at the back of the jet, but he didn’t curl up to sleep just yet. Instead he opened his go bag to the book he had packed away right at the top to ensure he brought it. A smile spread across his face unbeknownst to him as he took it into his hands. He brought his legs up onto the seat and leaned with his arm on the armrest and his head tucked into his elbow as he got comfortable. Unfortunately, he was used to folding himself up on the small couch, long limbs and all, but it was a good enough position to read in. 

Spencer picked up where he left off reading slowly again, tasting the words as he mouthed them to himself alone. Every so often his silent recitation was interrupted by a quiet chuckle or a snort, because not only was your commentary deep but it was witty. Your takes on Neruda’s physical interest in love was so intriguingly sardonic he couldn’t hold back a laugh. 

Spencer found one particular poem, “The Insect,” sensual until he spotted your jokes scrawled along the bottom near the page number. 

“From your hips down to your feet I want to make a long journey. I am smaller than an insect. Over these hills I pass, hills the colour of oats, crossed with faint tracks that only I know, scorched centimetres, pale perspectives."

In your hasty, sloppy handwriting you responded:

“He better be adept at  licking between those hills if he is smaller than an insect”

Spencer cracked a wide grin, stifling his laugh in his collar. Your humor, tucked between the pages of an unassuming book, was uninhibited by your meekness. He couldn’t help but think you would never say such a crude thing aloud, or maybe you would, and he only needed to know you longer to hear it from your lips. Neruda’s next stanza was even more lewd.

“Now here is a mountain. I shall never leave this. What a giant growth of moss! And a crater, a rose of moist fire!”

He followed a loopy arrow from the section of lines to your reply.

“Crater??? I suppose my razor bumps must be the  stinging rocks that tearing out the moss uncovered”

Spencer snorted, wondering if you remembered writing those quips when you generously handed him the book. They weren’t abundant, most of your responses were scholarly thoughts or opinions on love, but he could see your mood ebb and flow throughout the poems, crossed out thoughts and new additions from when you reread and re-examine with fresh eyes and new ideas. When he got to the end of the poem, he could see how your tone had shifted.

“Sliding down to your feet I reach the eight slits of your pointed, slow, peninsular toes, and from them I fall down to the white emptiness of the sheet, seeking blindly and hungrily the form of your fiery crucible!”

Another arrow from the last word guided him to the next page where he assumed you added more thoughts after going back over the poem again.

“Neruda is only a man, so his metaphors of the body have to be expected. But his unrestrained desire and dedication is the important subtext. To make the journey  long and slow and appreciate it all with unparalleled reverence? A girl might just have time to fall in love.”

Your interpretation of the poetry spoke volumes about your outlook on love. How you searched between the lines for the words unsaid, that between the carnal romance, you found desire and dedication. That was what you valued, as well as “time to fall in love.” The sentiment gave him pause because Spencer had a habit of. . . fixation. Spencer cared fast and deeply, and maybe that was too much for you. He would have to cool off, give you space, even if he was starting to want everyday to be Sunday. 

“What’s so funny over here?”

Spencer looked up, tucking the book into his chest, startled by Derek suddenly standing right in front of him. “Nothing. Just. . . reading.”

Derek leaned down his head to see the title, eyebrows rising with a scoff. “The Poetry of Pablo Neruda?” He shook his head as he continued behind the curtain to the bathroom. “Only you would be laughing at poetry, pretty boy.”

Derek would laugh too if he took a look at your writings, but Spencer didn’t feel like sharing you. He went back to his reading and it took him about an hour to finish the book. The feeling of turning over the last page was hollow. Of course, he could remember every single word, could recite it backwards if he wanted to, he studied it so intently, but the feeling of reading it, of getting inside your head was over. He drifted to sleep with the book tucked into his arm, trying to hold onto that feeling just a little longer.

Rossi shook him awake when they landed. The sun wasn’t up yet and a glance at his watch told him it was only 5:30 in the morning. The team wasn’t expected back until Wednesday, so Spencer only dipped into the office to grab paperwork before he got into his car and drove back home to his apartment. Blasting the radio was the only thing that kept him awake while driving. He didn’t realize it when he first got on the jet, but his body and mind were exhausted. His limbs ached and his head was foggy. Once he got in the door he dropped his bag on the floor and slumped into his bed, drifting back off into deep sleep.

—

From the way the light filtered in through the blinds, the sun was arching high in the sky when Spencer finally woke up again. His eyes were practically crusted shut and his mouth was dry, all the moisture leaking out onto his face and bedspread. He rubbed a hand over his face as he sat up and stretched. The rest did him good. He had more energy, at least, and he didn’t feel like weights were attached to him. He sat there for a minute, just adjusting to the world, then his eyes drifted to his alarm clock. It was 12:43pm. 

At once he jumped up from his bed, raiding his closet for a fresh pair of clothes. He didn’t mean to sleep in, he meant to be at the library early to explain himself. All he bothered to put on was a clean button up and slacks before he slipped on his converse and grabbed his keys. He stopped himself at the door when he remembered he was going to the library to return his books, so he swung back around to pick up the basket on his coffee table and grab The Poetry of Pablo Neruda from his go bag. 

He jogged down the stairs to his car, breezing past his neighbor Mrs. Cavanaugh who greeted him kindly. Of course, he drove just as carefully as he normally did, using his turn signal, completely stopping at each stop sign, and maintaining the speed limit, all the while his fingers rapped the steering wheel. His parking job in the library lot wasn’t great, though if he was being honest it never really was, but he didn’t hang around long to admire its crookedness as he grabbed his basket and speed walked into the library. 

It was comforting to be met with the familiar chill and paper air. A hand thoughtless combed through his hair as he took his time to walk down the rug to the front desk. He realized he didn’t put a comb through his hair before he left which meant it was definitely wild. He would have spent time being embarrassed about it if he looked over the counter and saw you, but he didn’t. In your chair was an elderly woman who squinted through her own glasses as she read a thick book she clutched in her wrinkly hands. She looked up and saw Spencer standing there, an unamused look on her face. 

“Checking something in?” She asked in a smoker's voice. 

“Oh, uh, yes,” Spencer floundered, surprised you weren’t there. He took your book from the top of the basket and then brought the rest up to the counter. The woman watched him as he pulled the books from the basket, an over plucked eyebrow raised. He had to dig around in his wallet for his library card too, but eventually set it on the counter to avoid the talons at her fingertips. She let out a sigh as she began scanning them. 

Spencer tapped his fingers against the countertop, eyes roaming around the library. Was Monday your off day? He never asked. He actually didn’t know much about your personal life besides that you were in graduate school. Maybe you had classes today? He could come in again tomorrow. . . but was that weird? He wouldn’t have any books to check in, so he didn’t have any actual reason for coming in besides seeing you. Would you find that odd? That he sought you out? He didn’t want to wait until next Sunday to talk to you again.

Spencer looked back at the librarian as she cleared her throat. She finished checking in the books and slid back over his library card, but he was still just standing there. “Is there something else you need?” She asked and he whispered your name. “What?”

“I–I mean, is she working today?” Spencer clarified quickly. “The girl who is at this desk on Sundays?” 

She blinked at him, leaning back in her chair and picking back up her book, a sharp finger turning the page. “She’s working.”

He nodded, gathering up his library card and basket and briskly walking away from the desk. With no additional clues as to where you were, he went to the second floor and began walking around. You had to be around there somewhere, eventually he would find you. He scanned the shelves as he walked, looking in the sciences for books that interested him, but he was too preoccupied looking over his shoulder for you walking by. Eventually he was fed up waiting for you to walk by and roamed the library just looking for you.

It took going to the fiction section to find you. He rounded the corner of a bookcase and saw you up on a ladder, arm full of books, the other busy nestling them into their places on the shelves. Your hair was done up and you wore a long, patterned skirt, but also a fitted long sleeve shirt. It hugged you like you hugged the books, and Spencer’s eyes trailed the outline of your figure illuminated by a gold halo from the window behind you. In over a week of not seeing you, Spencer didn’t forget a single detail of how you looked, but the feeling he got when he looked at you was new and invigorating. 

He saw you in a new light, literally and figuratively. He knew some of your inner thoughts; each poem he read felt like a conversation. Maybe it was one way, but you read the book so many times perhaps it wasn’t. He hoped maybe you knew exactly what you were doing when you gave it to him, as if, in your own shy way, you were saying all those words to him.

A quiet gasp broke his train of thought and suddenly you were looking at him, turned on the ladder to see him at the end of the bookcase. “Spencer?” You looked surprised, caught off guard, and when you tried to scramble down the ladder clinging onto the books and nothing else, you tripped on your skirt and teetered on the foothold.

Spencer was next to you instantly, the basket sliding up his arm as he steadied you with a hand on your waist. You took hold of his other hand, delicate fingers wrapping tight around his palm, and slowly came down off the ladder. He let you go once you were on the floor again, unsure of what to do with his hands warmed by the feel of you.

“Thank you, I was really trying not to twist my ankle falling off that again,” You smiled nervously, embarrassed, and looked down at the books you held against yourself. 

“Again?” Spencer asked, brows quirking up, lips twisting into a smile. Not only were you shy, but you were klutzy. He wasn’t sure which made you more endearing. 

“Oh yeah. I was laid up for a week after falling off a three foot ladder. Now I don’t reach so far out,” you explained, finally chancing a look up at him and finding his eyes already on you.

“I got shot in the knee once. I was on crutches for five months, two weeks, and five days and I hated pretty much every second of it,” he blurted out, and to his delight you breathed out a quiet laugh. 

“Well you’ve got my twisted ankle beat,” You shrugged at him. He chuckled in reply, and slowly the conversation faded away. He had so much to say to you, to explain, but it disappeared from his mouth when he stood in front of you. Suddenly he felt self-conscious. He wondered if you thought about him even half as much as he thought about you. Finally, your voice came out in the softest whisper. “I didn’t know if you were going to come back. . .”

 “I was in Seattle,” like a dam burst, at last his words came rushing out. “I travel for work a lot and I’ve been in Seattle since Thursday. I only got back this morning.”

He searched your face for your reaction but your eyes were unreadable. “You just got back from a four day work trip across the country and the first thing you do is go to the library?” He couldn’t tell whether you were weirded out or not. Normally your emotions were all over your face and he read it just like a book, but suddenly you snapped it shut.

“No. Well—yes, kind of. . .” When you only continued to look at him, he felt the need to keep talking. “I had to return the books, y’know? And. . .” He searched your eyes for an indication to stop or keep going, but they were only pools of hope with borders of acetate. “You called me reliable—before, I mean—and I didn’t want you to think I wasn’t. I didn’t have any way to contact you either to let you know I wasn’t going to come in so I just. . . came here as soon as I could.”

The meekest of smiles lifted the corners of your lips and Spencer nearly let out a sigh of relief. “I guess it’s silly, but I was a little sad when you didn’t come in. I thought I really messed it up, and that sucked because it gets kind of boring in here without a genius FBI agent to be surprised by,” you shrugged, finger tapping along a hardcover book in your arms. Spencer opened his mouth to reassure you that you didn’t do anything wrong, but you continued. “I think it’d be better for both of us if we had a way to contact each other—so you can warn me of course! When work has you too busy to come in.”

Spencer stood in front of you for a few seconds, processing what you were saying. Then you inclined your brows at him and he scrambled to get his phone from his pocket. “Oh, right. You can just put your number in and I will, uh, text you.”

You struggled to adjust the books in your arms to get a free hand, so Spencer set the basket down and offered his help to take them. “Oh, thank you,” you mumbled, passing the books into his long arms and taking his phone. As you thumbed in the numbers, Spencer turned to the shelves and began putting the books in their rightful places. You furrowed your brows at him, mouth falling open. “Oh, Spencer, you don’t have to do that.”

“I’d like to help.” He gave you a smile over his shoulder and went back to fingering over the spines to find the correct placement.

“Thank you then. Just. . .” Your head craned outside the end of the bookcases, glancing either way before walking back to the trolley that carried the books that needed reshelving. “Don’t let Mrs. Wilson see you. I think she’d actually fire me.”

“Mrs. Wilson?” Spencer questioned, brows creasing. “The woman at the desk today?”

You just gathered another armful of books from the trolley when your head snapped back to Spencer, then glanced between him and then the nearly empty basket on the floor, worried. “Oh my God, she checked your books back in. She didn’t say anything mean to you, did she? Nasty little comments are her specialty.”

Spencer took more books from the cart, his eyes glued to you as you scaled the ladder again. “No. She wasn’t exactly friendly either, but she didn’t say anything mean.” You wiped fake sweat off your brow. “Is she your boss?”

“Kinda, yeah. Technically I’m a library aid, but I do pretty much everything she does as the librarian,” you said, voice dry and tired with annoyance. “Actually I do everything she’s supposed to do besides berate people for late books, that’s her favorite pastime. Most of the day she manages the desk while I do everything else. I only work the desk Sunday because that’s her off day. I’m pretty sure she spends it at church because she’s always telling me I should be going.”

He glanced at you as you talked, continuing to organize the books. It was the most he ever heard you talk, and he was starting to hear the same voice he heard on the margins of The Poetry of Pablo Neruda. “I’m glad I came in on Sunday then,” he said. He likely never would have met you if he didn’t come in on Sunday, what with you rushing around doing all the other day to day library duties. That meant there was a 1/7, or 14% chance of him meeting you at the library the way he did. He didn’t even want to think about how slim the chance of him meeting you was after also factoring in the other libraries in the area he could have visited.

“I’m glad you did too.” You smiled over at him, shelving your last book and carefully heading back down the ladder. “She never would have let you check out all those books at once.”

He quickly placed the remaining book in his hand on the shelf, joining you at the trolley as you divided up the last of the books left. “So, if she’s so mean and awful at her job, why don’t you report her?”

You paused, eyes going distant and your shoulders slighting curling in on yourself. “I could report her to the director I guess, but. . .” You only considered it for a moment before collecting the books and spinning away down the bookcase with a shake of your head. “I don’t see the point. She’s just a grouchy old woman. It’s not like I can’t handle it. I think the reason she hates me so much is because she thinks I’m going to replace her.”

Spencer eyed your body language and shift in tone. It was the confrontation that scared you, he realized. He saw it before with Todd and now with Mrs. Wilson and the director. You didn’t stand up to her or advocate for yourself because of some self conscious doubt or fear of rejection. Sure, Mrs. Wilson might be mean and a bit scary, but that shouldn’t mean you have to deal with her blatant disrespect. He wanted to give you some encouragement, but seeing your reaction to his question—the way you curled in on yourself to protect yourself from the discomfort just considering reporting her gave you—made him not want to push you, so he finished putting the books in the bookcase. 

“If you say so. I'm just sorry you don’t get along with your coworker. I feel like my team at the BAU is my family and I couldn’t imagine it any other way,” he confessed. His only real family was his mom, but he felt it wasn’t appropriate to talk about her just yet. Although he did feel like the team was also his family, so it felt right to talk about them.

You hummed, a dreamy look on your face. “That’s nice. It makes sense too, since you all have to trust each other with your lives, don’t you?” You brought your bottom lip between your teeth suddenly, hesitating to look at Spencer. “I um, I looked up what the BAU was the other day because I wanted to know what you did exactly. It just said you created “profiles” of serial killers, but it didn’t mention field work.” You slotted onto a shelf the last book in your hands, fidgeting with your fingers as they became idle, eyes wandering back and forth between him and the floor.  “I was just thinking if. . . are you in danger often? You didn’t seem very scared of that guy the other day—obviously he’s not nearly as scary as a serial killer, but you also said you got shot in the knee?”

Spencer held back a smile because you seemed upset, but the fact that you took the time to look up what he did and worried about him made his stomach swirl in a way which was more pleasing than nauseating. “Field work is a part of my job, yes. We profile serial killers and other criminals, but we also help the local police catch them. I’ve had other injuries besides getting shot in the knee, too. So, yes, often it can be a very dangerous job.” It also felt wrong to bring up Tobias Hinkel, the trauma Spencer experienced, and the path it led him down. Maybe at a later time he could bring it up, but now he was more comfortable recounting exactly the amount of times he’d been shot at and every injury he’d gotten on the job from being punched to poisoned. Spencer did none of that though, because your face became sickly and your brows knitted so tight with concern he thought they might merge together. “I’m always okay though! I trust my team and we all keep each other safe. I wear a bulletproof vest to protect my vital organs and I carry a gun, so I’m kind of hard to kill.”

You crossed your arms, nodding as you calmed down from the worry. Spencer wondered if you were also an anxious person, it would make sense since you were so concerned about him and his job. It was a dangerous job, sometimes in the moment Spencer dismissed the probabilities that he could actually die, but it was always possible despite his experience, knowledge, and skills. Unlikely, but possible. “It’s a really good thing your coworkers have your back then,” you joked, but it was weak and Spencer could tell you were still unsettled.

He wanted to calm you down, because there wasn’t anything to be worried about. He was good at his job, safe, and he always ran all the probabilities and took the best course of action. Most importantly, he always had a thorough and accurate profile, which Gideon always said was the deadliest weapon he could have. You didn’t need to worry about him despite the danger. “‘What more can they tell you? I am neither good nor bad but a man, and they will then associate the danger of my life, which you know and which with your passion you shared,’” he recited. Your head tilted as you took in his words, an excitement of realization slowly filling up your face. “‘And good, this danger is danger of love, of complete love for all life, for all lives.’”

“‘And because love battles’, Pablo Neruda,” you named it. Spencer was right when he assumed you read it several times because you had it memorized enough to spot it. “That poem is about fighting for and defending his love despite his past and what others have to say about it—not the danger of having standoffs with murderers.”

“Yes, but I can repurpose it. I do this job despite the danger because I love people. I love helping them, saving them. I couldn’t imagine doing anything else. If I don’t catch the murderers, who will?” He explained, trying to show you that this job was just a part of him, however dangerous it was, he could handle it. “I know it can be scary, but trust me when I tell you that I’m good at what I do. There aren't any people out there better at this job than my team. You don’t have to worry.”

You plucked at the ends of your sleeves, thinking on what he told you. The seconds ticked by and he resorted to examining your body language, how your shoulders were even and between them your chest rose and fell at a steady pace. Your face was placid too, until it warped with a playful smile and you stepped closer to him. The breath left his lungs in an exhale. “So. . . you did finish The Poetry of Pablo Neruda?” He took air in again with a chuckle. Teasing him must have meant you felt reassured. “You must have been distracted being so good at your job that your interpretation was off, because that’s not at all what that quote means.”

Spencer took a step towards you, his long legs almost closing the gap of space between your bodies before you scrambled back a step. “Oh, I know what you think of that poem. I know exactly what you think of all Neruda’s poems, since you spelled it out for me.”

Your hands came back to the front of you, fidgeting with your fingers as you avoided the intensity of his eyes, face warming with embarrassment. “You read all my notes?” How could he not? Surely, you must have known he would. 

“Of course I did. I thought it was all very insightful,” he said, and because he couldn’t help himself, he continued. “Especially all your little jokes. What did you have to say about ‘The Insect’? ‘He better be adept at licking—’”

“Spencer!” You squealed, certainly disturbing anyone who was in the surrounding rows of bookcases. Your hands rushed to cover your face. “I didn’t—You weren’t—oh my God!”

Spencer laughed at your suffering, taking sadistic pleasure in it only for a few moments before he gently pulled your hands from your face by your arms. “It’s okay. I thought they were all very funny. You’re very funny.”

It was harder for you to shake off the embarrassment. You carefully removed your wrists from his hands to wring them. “I didn’t think you were even actually going to read it.”

Spencer’s brows twitched into a furrow, puzzled as to why you thought he wouldn’t read the book you gave him. “Why not? I like poetry.”

You shrugged. “I–I don’t know, I just definitely didn’t expect for you to memorize it and everything I said.”

“I have an eidetic memory,” he countered, knowing he would remember everything you ever wrote and said to him. “And some of that stuff is pretty hard to forget anyway.”

You whined, mortified. “Yeah, I’m starting to realize what that means.”

There was a pause between you and Spencer, because you were embarrassed and he wasn’t sure why. Having someone read your private thoughts is vulnerable and flustering, but you gave him the book. You must have known he would agonize over your every word, but your reaction said you didn’t. Spencer couldn’t help but feel he was reading too far into things, his obsessive, addictive personality sending him spiraling down a hole of a relationship he dug all on his own. You didn’t think about him as much as he did you; you didn’t read into the things he did and search for more meaning. 

“Do you need more books?”

“Huh?”

He was staring into your face thinking hard, but you snapped him back out of it. “You finished reading all your books right?” You repeated.

“No, I only read seven of them,” he thought aloud.

“What? What happened to Mr. 20,000 words per minute?” The shyness fled you slowly as you turned again to teasing him. It was cute, but it also flustered Spencer, because he definitely couldn’t tell you he didn’t finish his other books because he spent all his time scrutinizing every word both you and Pablo Neruda wrote. 

“I–I told you I was in Seattle for four days. I didn’t have time to finish them because I was busy.” It was a lame excuse because he definitely did have enough time, he just spent it reading the book you gave him because it comforted him better than any other book could.

You hummed, tapping your fingers along your forearm. “Okay, well, you should look for some more books. I have to get back to work or the library’s going to collapse without me. So, um, text me?”

He got whiplash from your sudden goodbye. “Y–Yeah, of course. I’ll see you next week right?”

“Of course,” you repeated, throwing him a wave as you grabbed the handle of the trolley and started pushing it out of the aisle. 

“Wait, don’t forget this.” Spencer stopped you as he picked his basket back up from the floor, plucking The Poetry of Pablo Neruda out of it to hand to you. 

You took it with a grateful smile, setting it on the trolley. “Thank you, Spencer, I’ll have to give you more poetry book recommendations since clearly you liked this one so much.”

He watched you disappear around the corner and was immediately hit with everything he wanted to say to you, what he should have said, all the conversations he wanted to have had. It wasn’t enough. You’d taken a decent chunk of time out of your busy day to chat with him but it still didn’t satisfy him. Spencer wondered if there would ever be enough of you, or if he was now forever craving you, needing your words, your laugh, you entirely.

He resigned himself to looking around the library for new books to read. Every time he entered a new aisle, he looked for you, having hope you’d be there but you never were. Still, he took his time finding books, but once he had seven in his basket he made his way down to the front desk.

Of course, Mrs. Wilson was sitting there and she was just as pleased as she was before to see Spencer standing in front of her. She stood up as he began unloading the books onto the countertop. 

“Seven books?” She croaked.

“Yes? I only have three out and the check out limit is ten,” he justified, pausing as he rummaged his wallet for his library card.

“I know the checkout limit. You can’t check out more than five books at once,” she hissed, clawing two books off the top of the stack and dropping them onto the cart behind her. Without missing a beat, she turned back and snatched up his library card from the counter and began scanning.

“Okay. . .” he mumbled, unsure how to respond. Obviously that wasn’t library policy, but he wasn’t interested in fighting with your coworker. All he needed was for her to dislike him. Well, dislike him more than the disdain she seemed to have for everyone. 

When she finished scanning and checking the books out, she slapped his library card on top of the stack and sat back in her seat, picking up her book again without a word. Spencer took that as his sign to get lost and quickly gathered up his books in his basket and made for the exit. He looked back once more as he opened the double doors and turned back around as they shut behind him.

Spencer wiped down the books and his basket in his car, setting them both up snug in his passenger seat. He sat there for a moment, looking back at the library, then pulled out his phone. Like you said, your name had been added to his contacts, your full name. He bounced his leg as he considered sending you a message, but finally gave in and typed a simple one out.

- Hey, it's Spencer Reid.

Again, his leg bounced viciously as his fingers hovered over the buttons, sporadically typing out letters before deleting them. He even set it down before he picked it back up and hurriedly sent another message.

- Mrs. Wilson only let me check out five books.

He tossed his phone over into his passenger seat with a sigh. Spencer Reid did not text. It was strange, embarrassing, and not at all something he was used to. He felt the urge to call Garcia and even ask if he was doing it right. Was there even a right way to text? There had to be and he had no clue what it was. Constantly Garcia was bringing up internet language Spencer did not understand. What if you knew it and he didn’t? He almost went back into the library to research it on the computer. 

But he had to go home. He hadn’t eaten yet and his stomach was starting to rumble and growl. There was a chinese place on the way home, he could stop by there and get takeout. It wasn’t the healthiest plan, but there wasn’t much at the apartment besides pasta. That meant he also had to go grocery shopping tomorrow. He sighed through his nose as he put the car in drive, only to immediately throw it back in park when he heard his phone chime. He lunged over the console to the passenger seat so quickly the seat belt locked up and he choked himself momentarily before he could unfasten it and snap up his phone from the seat. There was a text from you.

- When do you go back to work?

His brows creased, but he responded swiftly nonetheless.

- Wednesday. Why?

- That means you have to come in tomorrow at 11, that's her lunch break. I can check you out.:)

He was even more confused by the punctuation at the end of your sentence. He reread it thrice for any clues to the meaning before he tilted his head and saw a smiley face staring back at him. A laugh burst from him, shaking his chest. He could put off grocery shopping until later in the day tomorrow.

—

Spencer came into the library Tuesday at 11am promptly. You escorted him around the library as he found two more books, then you let him pick an additional two more to check out on your own library account. After picking out the books, sneaking to check him out at the front desk became the best covert op mission Spencer had ever done, and he actually had done quite a few. As you talked, Spencer recounted cases he worked on and taught you the lingo they used in the field. When you slunk behind the front desk, you actually whisper-screamed “Clear!” at him with a face so serious Spencer had to slap a hand over his mouth so he didn’t blow the whole operation by laughing in your face. Your head bobbed constantly for any sight of Mrs. Wilson, even though you told him she ate lunch at the diner down the street. Then you slid him the two extra books like the scandal was DEA investigation worthy. All the while, you and Spencer giggled like children. 

You were a lot less worried now when he told you about the cases he worked on, he tended to leave out the really scary parts, but the idea of him chasing after armed murders didn’t terrify you as much anymore. You seemed to trust him and his skills more, likely because of his excellent performance during “Operation Paperback,” which was the code name you lovingly bestowed upon your mission to check Spencer out more books while Mrs. Wilson took what was most definitely not a smoke break. (You told him you were going to launch your own investigation into the cigarette butts you kept finding in the parking lot when he left now that you were a pro at “FBI stuff.”)

Spencer left the library with a giant grin on his face and it stuck with him even as he picked out his next week's worth of meals at the grocery store. He also planned when he would see you again and thought about all the things he wanted to talk to you about. Of course, he wanted to tell you about all the great things he did: his successes as an FBI agent, how he earned his PhDs, the time he hit the ball and ran the winning homerun for Derek’s baseball team. But he also wanted to tell you the darker parts of his life: his mother’s illness, how the job had traumatized him, his struggle with addiction. And he wanted to know so much more about you in kind.

Swiftly, it was no longer just Sundays he was visiting the library. He was dropping in after work and on the odd days he had off due to prolonged cases in other states. It took him less than a week to memorize your schedule. You had off on Fridays and Saturdays, and on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays you had classes. Of course, your classes were late after work on Monday and Wednesday, however they were early in the morning on Friday. The library hours were something he also saved in his mental rolodex. It had open hours all seven days of the week: 10am to 4pm on weekends and 11am to 7pm on weekdays. Spencer was leaving work on time for the first time in years to make it to the library before close. 

Over the next couple weeks as he went to the library, he realized you spent a lot of time troubleshooting the computers. So when he came in he would either find a book to read or set himself up at an open computer near the one you were working on. He told you he was “researching” things for cases, but he didn’t really have to because anything he wanted to know he could have asked Garcia with her masterful skills and FBI grade software. He came to chat with you, listen to you complain about having to fix the computers so often because the local teens kept breaking them. Still, you were too timid to reprimand them or threaten to kick them out. In his job everyday there was always confrontation, everyone had to do it, so it was both confusing and sweet to him that you lacked the nerve to address people. He only wished you would stand up for yourself, because when you avoided confronting the problems it only ever gave you more labor. 

You became much more comfortable with him though. You shared more thoughts openly, met his eyes more, and even shared things about yourself that seemed very personal. You told him about your parents, your friends, your quaint apartment, and some embarrassing stories of your childhood. As close as you both were becoming over the weeks, you refused to let him read any of the poems you wrote because “it's different when you read it than when strangers read it.” He couldn’t dream of it being bad. He wouldn’t even give criticism or comment on it, but still you wouldn’t let him. You did, however, let him read your interpretations and analyses of poetry and literature you were reading for your classes. He would finish scanning the texts in minutes, which you would whine and complain about taking hours doing as a slow reader, and then read your writings and give you his critiques. At first you were nervous and fidgety about it, would go quiet when he didn’t necessarily agree. Then, slowly, you became more argumentative, fighting him on whose perspective was correct. Spencer loved arguing with you, the way your face lit up when you thought you had him, and the pout of your lip when you conceded the genius maybe knew what he was talking about. 

He handled five cases over the weeks he got to know you, during which he never used his phone more. He would be away for days at time and not be able to visit the library, so he resorted to texting you during the day and calling you from his hotel room in the evenings after you got home from classes, or just before you tucked yourself in for bed. Sometimes he talked about the cases, only giving you bits of information and keeping out the truly horrific things. Other times, he talked about his life. It was hard at first, telling you about the darkest parts of him, how he was far more complex than he originally led you to believe, then it became easy. You took it in stride, showing him an empathy he never knew he craved so deeply. You comforted him over the phone, or in the library, and assured him you didn’t see him any differently than before. Told him you were still his friend.

His friend. Of all the things you said to him while he was vulnerable, that one was the only one that wounded him. You were a great friend, truly, but Spencer was closer to the realization everyday he didn’t want to just be your friend. On the nights he wasn’t away on a case, when he entered his empty apartment and prepared himself dinner alone, he missed your voice. He wanted you there always, more than someone should want a friend. He never thought about Derek, or Penelope, or JJ the way he thought about you. His team was his family and he loved them, but the way he felt about you was another thing entirely. You consumed him at times. When he should be thinking about a case or chatting with one of the team, something reminds him of you and suddenly he’s stuck in a loop of thinking about what you were doing, thinking, feeling. He was distracted, and the worse part of it all was that his team was starting to notice.

Spencer tried to be discreet, but sometimes as he sent a text under his desk or hidden alone in a room Derek would catch him and he’d have to come up with a fast excuse. It always sounded defensive and not quite convincing because Spencer was not a very good liar. The rest of the team was catching him lost in thought, which wouldn’t be as damning if it didn’t happen so often. He cared for you so much he couldn’t help but think of you all day. He likely would never stop talking about either if he wasn’t hiding your existence from his team. At first it was because he tried to keep you very separate from his work life, like his job at the FBI didn’t have to exist when he was with you and therefore you did not exist when he was at work. But now you’d infiltrated his life completely and there was no possible way to keep you separate. He hid you now because well. . . he was embarrassed. Clearly he was obsessed with you, he couldn’t deny it anymore, but you didn’t feel the same way. 

You were caring, kind, generous, empathetic, yes, but in love with him? Well you gave no indication you were. Often you would call him your friend, mention you were scared of relationships, and when he tried showing you he was interested in being more than your friend—getting closer to you, complimenting you, flirting with you—you got quiet and shied away, so he backed off. He wanted to be with you so desperately he put to use all the tips Derek had given him—the PG-13 ones at least—but none of it worked. Perhaps he wasn’t doing it right, or you just didn’t like him. He was trying hard to just settle with being just your friend.

“Oh my God, I hate this thing!” You hissed, slapping your hands over your face and groaning quietly into them. 

“I’m guessing you tried turning it off and on again?” Spencer grinned. He pulled out the seat to the computer next to you, hanging the strap of his messenger bag on the chair behind him. Your eyes glared at him between your fingers.

“Don’t make me hate you too, Spencer. That never works.” Well then the problem went beyond his ability to fix. “I just don’t understand how they can get so many viruses on a computer? Everyday I’m blocking new websites.”

Computer six, which conveniently was the computer with the least visibility from the front desk, was almost always in need of fixing. Mainly because of a group of teens who would come in on the weekends or after school to play around on it. Constantly you were blocking the unsecure, often dangerous or pornographic websites they frequented. How they found them all, you could not fathom. You were fairly good at fixing the computer with all the time you’d spent doing it and all the tutorials you had to research, but were truly stuck. It was almost a week of the computer being down and you had no luck repairing it. 

“You tried everything?” He asked, his smile dropping into a frown at your distress.

“Yes. I don’t know what to do anymore. Mrs. Wilson is on my ass about fixing it and she’ll never call the director to send someone to fix it because that costs money. And I’d have a better chance at winning the lottery than getting a new computer and I don’t even play.” You drug your hands down your face, shoulders slumped in defeat. 

“I could get it fixed.” 

You let out an unstifled laugh, which he would be happy to hear if you weren’t laughing at him. “Spencer, you suggested turning it off and on.”

“No, I mean I could ask someone to fix it. A member of my team, Penelope, is a technical analyst. She’s very good with computers and she could fix it.” He didn’t want to ask Garcia, actually the last thing he wanted to do was get his team involved, but he hated even more to see you so upset and stressed. He was just your friend and that was all Garcia would see. 

Your mouth fell open and you waved your hand dismissively. “Oh no, I couldn’t bother her with this. She's probably so busy. I–I can handle it.”

Spencer smiled. You were so sweet, always determined on dealing with things so you didn’t have to put the weight onto others. It only made him want to help more. “She’d be doing me a favor. I’m sure she’ll be happy to help.”

“Are you sure?” Beyond the apprehension, he saw how hopeful you were. 

“Yeah, of course. I’ll let you know when she can come fix it,” he said, watching the smile spread across your face. You were so elated, you reached over the space between the chairs to give him a hug, letting out a deep sigh of relief. 

“Thank you so much, Spencer,” you mumbled into his shoulder. He awkwardly patted your back, unsure exactly what to do with his gangly arms. He wasn’t too much of a hugger, neither were you, so it was the first time you’d ever hugged him. His cheeks warmed at the thought.

Unfortunately, he had to follow through on his promises. So the next day when he went into work he hung around the door to Garcia’s lair, repeating over and over in his head how he was going to ask. He opened the door with a knock and she swirled around in her chair to look at him, a megawatt smile beaming.

“Hey handsome, what can I do ya for?” She greeted, spinning a fuzzy orange pen between her fingers. 

Spencer wrung his hands in the doorway, halfway between coming in and running away. “I was wondering if you could do me a favor?”

“Of course! What did you need me to look up?” She spun back in her chair, hands at the ready.

“It’s not that, it's a personal favor. A–A tech problem. Do you think you could help me with it this Sunday?” 

Slowly, Garcia tapped her heels on the floor to turn her spinny chair back towards Spencer, eyebrow quirked. “Okay, technophobe. What’s this tech problem because I didn’t think you owned a computer?”

“It’s a computer at the library I go to. It’s been out of order for a week now and they can’t seem to get it fixed,” he explained, continuing to fidget. 

She pursed her lips and tilted her head, gesturing at him with her fuzzy pen. “Is there not more than one computer at the library? Or are libraries really that popular still? I think you should just get a computer, Reid. I promise it’s not that scary and I’ll pick you a good one! The kind even old people know how to use—no offense. We can go—”

“Garcia,” he interrupted her rambling with a wince. Clearly he wasn’t going to get away with asking for her help so vaguely. “The library can’t afford to pay someone to fix it so I told the librarian I’d ask if you could. If you’re too busy, it’s alright.”

She seemed skeptical, mouth bobbing open and closed like she had more to say, but finally closed it with a simple nod. “I can fix it, of course I can fix it. JJ canceled our brunch plans Sunday so I can be there at 11:30.”

Spencer gave her a tight lipped smile and a nod. “Okay, I’ll send you the address. Thank you, Garcia.” He wanted to add that she probably shouldn’t mention it to the rest of the team, but knowing Garcia’s lack of subtlety and habit of being just a tad nosey, he figured that would only make it more suspicious and odd.

So he gave her a farewell and speed walked back to his desk, taking his seat with a heavy sigh of relief. Garcia may not be a profiler, but she knew him well and she had a bloodhound like nose for gossip. If he wasn’t careful, she would sniff out just how much he liked the librarian he mentioned so briefly. Then it would spread like wildfire around the office and Spencer would be safe from no one’s prying and teasing. 

It was the first Sunday he was nervous to go to the library. His palms were sweaty as he waited at the computer with you, you none the wiser. He tried to focus on you to calm down because you were always his source of comfort. His eyes trailed over your long skirt and t-shirt combo, making note of the way you kept touching your arms as if you were cold. No doubt you’d slip on the cardigan you kept behind the desk soon, but he assumed you wanted to look nice to meet Penelope, because you did look very nice. Your hair was out of its updo and if he looked hard enough at your face, which he did, he could tell you were wearing lipgloss and some other little bits of makeup. 

“You okay?” You asked him softly, eyes looking over his own face.

“I’m fine,” he blurted maybe a little too quickly because you looked unconvinced. Slowly you were learning his tells and he wasn’t sure how long it would be before you found out how fixated he was on you and you didn’t want to be his friend anymore. “I just. . . I hope Penelope can fix it for you.”

You smiled sweetly, looking away at the entrance. “I bet she can, but even if she can’t, it's okay. It was nice of you and her to try.”

He wanted to reassure you that he would always try for you, but Penelope came through the double doors, absolutely glowing like the sun. In mood, but also in outfit. Or maybe it was more like a sunflower? All Spencer knew was that it was very yellow and vibrant. She came rushing over when she saw him and you stand up to greet her.

“Hi, you must be Penelope. Spencer told me so much about you,” You greeted and immediately Spencer realized he messed up.

Garcia’s eyes ran over you, then went back and forth between you and Spencer. He could see the gears turning in her head. “Oh, hello!” She chirped, friendly as always but awkward because she heard nothing about you.

Quickly, Spencer introduced you to Penelope and both you and her shook hands before she put him out of his misery and asked what the problem with the computer was. She took a seat at computer six and you stood next to her, pointing out things on the screen.

“I have some kids that keep coming in and going on all these sketchy websites. I keep blocking them, but they keep finding new ones and it’s loading the computer up with viruses. Then it runs slow and freezes so often it’s unusable,” You shook your head as you explained, exasperated by it all. “Sorry, I know it’s a lot, but do you think you could fix it?”

“Oh, please. Those are some easy fixes! I’ll just remove the viruses and add some more blocking software not even tech savvy kids can get around.” Garcia was already typing at the computer, doing things on the screen Spencer didn’t bother to try and comprehend. He was looking at you as the grin yanked up your lips.

“Really? Thank you so much. I’ve been fighting with this damn thing for weeks. I’m not great with computers.”

“I think you’ve done pretty good so far. You’re much better than Reid, that’s for sure. Sorry fellow genius, but it's true,” she glanced back at him, almost remorseful but still carrying a smile.

You laughed, always eager to tease him. “When he’s on a computer I think he lied to me about having an IQ of 187. He needs my help finding research databases, pulling up old articles, everything but logging in, really.”

“Huh,” Garcia glanced back at him again, only to find his eyes averted and his hands stuffed into his pockets to stop their incessant fidgeting. He was caught and he knew it. He maybe. . . exaggerated how bad he was with computers to you at first, just to get you to come over and talk to him when he first started coming to the library after work, but unfortunately he didn’t know how to end the ruse. Garcia called him a certified technophobe, but even she knew he had those basic skills, especially since she’d seen him do it on his own before. 

“How long do you think it will take?” You asked, glancing over the rest of the computers to the desk. “I just have to get back to managing the front desk.”

“Only about a half hour. I’m going to do the other computers as well to save you some time blocking websites. You can go though, I got this.” She gave you a smile, gesturing for you to leave.

“Thank you again, Penelope. I’ll be back before you’re done,” you promised, fluttering away from the table swiftly to help someone standing at the front desk.

“So…” Garcia was looking up at Spencer impishly.

“So?” He asked, though he had a good idea of what was coming.

“Do you like her?” Her eyes were hopeful, lips spread into a grin. 

“Garcia. . .” he warned, pleading for her not to go any further. He didn’t want to have to lie, but he couldn’t tell her that he was hopelessly falling in love with you.

But that only sold it for her, her hands reaching off the keys to fan her face. “OMG. You do like her!”

He glanced around to see if you heard her exclamation, but you were busy talking to the man standing at the front desk. “Penelope, she’s my friend,” he tried to be firm in his assertion, but even to his own ears it sounded more like a whine.

“A very cute friend! Who seems like the sweetest person on earth. Oh, and she works in a library. So adorable—y'know—because you’re always reading? Are you sure she’s just a friend?” She launched into a ramble, too clouded by the idea that he may be interested in someone to recognize the hurt on his face.

“I’m sure. She’s… she doesn’t like me like that,” he sounded sad, he didn’t mean to, but he was. He had a very hard time hiding his feelings, and now Penelope heard it and was looking at him like he was a kicked puppy.

“Oh, well, I—really? She seemed so. . .” She was at a loss for words, watching as you walked past guiding the man from the desk over to the staircase, likely showing him where to find a specific genre. Penelope shook her head as you disappeared from view, redirecting her focus back to the screen and letting her hands fly back to the keyboard. “I should mind my business. Right. Bad Garcia.”

Spencer frowned, eyes lingering on where you vanished up the stairs. He pulled back out the chair beside her and slumped in it, avoiding her eyes. “Thank you, Garcia.”

He didn’t have to thank her for long though. 

She fixed the computer and you were so incredibly grateful you hugged her. Or rather, you hugged her back after Garcia enveloped you into her arms, so overwhelmed with your praise, but you seemed glad to let it happen. Even after she left, and a few days later the teens returned, they were upset to find the new restrictions on the computer they couldn’t bypass, much to your delight. Spencer was thankful for that, but he was much less grateful when only a week and a half later Garcia slipped up and mentioned you to the team.

He was wrapping up his paperwork fast, reading through documents at lightning speed and filling them out so quickly his handwriting was nearly illegible. But he promised he’d come to the library to see you after work because he was away on a case the past couple days including last Sunday. He was so invested in completing his paperwork he didn’t even notice Derek and Penelope passing him with cups of coffee. 

“Whoa kid, got a date you're running late for?” Derek joked, perching at Spencer’s desk to grin down at him with a teasing smile.

“Oooo, I bet it's that cute—” As the words came tumbling from Garcia’s pink lips, Spencer’s face ripped away from his paperwork to look at her, and with a look of horror she quickly cut herself off to sip from her mug.

Derek’s brows creased, looking between Spencer and Garcia with an amused bewilderment. “That cute what?” When Garcia avoided his eyes, drowning in her coffee, and Spencer’s cheeks turned pink, realization covered Derek’s face. “Oh, okay pretty boy, I see you! That must be why you’ve been on your phone so much. What cute girl have you been talking to?”

Spencer cleared his throat, turning back to his papers as he consolidated them from the cluttered mess into a neat pile. “No one.”

Derek laughed, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “No, no, no. Don’t get all shy now, playa, spill.”

When Spencer refused to respond, continuing to shuffle about his papers, Derek narrowed his gaze onto Garcia, who could drink from her cup no longer and began coughing. It gathered the attention of a few other pairs of eyes in the office just in time for her to finish her choking and begin spilling.

“Okay! She’s this absolutely adorable librarian! She’s the sweetest thing and her style is so cute and I wanted to ask her where she got her glasses from, but I was too distracted because Reid totally likes her and thinks that she doesn’t like him, but I was trying to get all profiler on her because I thought ‘there’s no way she couldn’t like boy genius because he’s just as cute and they are so made for each other’ and—like you guys know, I’m no profiler—but I’m pretty sure she likes him!” Finally she took in a breath, practically hyperventilating and fanning her face.

Spencer gawked at her, wide eyed. “Penelope!”

She looked at him sympathetically, but it was Derek’s face that he focused on. His brows were high on his forehead, mouth gaping as he took all of her words in. “Okay, first of all: wow. Second of all: why do you think she doesn’t like you?”

Spencer chewed on his lip. He didn’t really want to explain himself to Derek and Penelope, two people known for their confidence and dating escapades, but he was cornered. Not only that, but he was becoming so desperate he found himself wanting their advice. “I–I don’t know. Whenever I try to show her I’m. . . interested, she gets quiet and awkward.”

“How have you been showing her you’re ‘interested?’” 

He shrugged, leg bouncing under the table. “Flirting with her I guess?”

Derek scoffed. “You guess?” When Spencer could do nothing but look away with a heavy sigh, Derek continued. “Look man, she could just be shy. I know it’s scary, but you have to just ask her out on a date. That's the only way you’re really going to know if she likes you.”

Spencer picked at a loose thread on his cardigan, voice quiet. “But what if she says no? I just. . .” He licked his lips, playing over the words in his head and wondering if he wanted to be so vulnerable to Derek and Penelope. “I like her so much. . .” he whispered.

Garcia cooed, tottering around the desk in her heels to wrap her free arm around Spencer. “Who could ever say no to you, handsome? I’m positive, she’ll say yes, I know that girl likes you!”

“Hey,” Derek said, getting Spencer to look up at him as Garcia released him. “You got nothing to worry about, pretty boy. Now you go to that library and ask her out to a nice fancy restaurant—which no pretty girl can refuse—and I’ll worry about this paperwork.”

“Are you sure?” Spencer asked meekly, but Derek and Penelope only reassured him and ushered him out of his seat. He was out of the office less than ten minutes later, getting into his car. He flipped down the sun visor to look at himself in the tiny mirror, frowning at his reflection. His hair was always a mess and he needed to shave. 

He flipped the visor back up with a sigh, putting his car in drive and taking himself to the library before he sat in the parking lot all night stressing. He didn’t have to ask you out, but he did have to go because he promised you he’d be there. . . and he missed you dearly.

The library was empty when entered. There were sometimes a few stranglers this late, but on a random Tuesday night the library was clear of everyone but you, bent over wiping down the tables for the night. His eyes roamed over you, breath catching in his chest like it always did when he first laid his gaze on you again.

“Good evening,” he greeted, trying not to startle you with his presence. 

You turned quickly, a smile taking over your bored face when you spotted him standing by the front desk. “Spencer! How was your flight this morning?”

“Fine. I finished the book on biological regulations and development, but I mostly just slept because we had a whole day of paperwork to catch up on.”

“And work today?” You asked, throwing a wet wipe in the trash and plucking out another as you moved to clean the next table.

“Like I said, paperwork. Very boring.” He untucked his hands from his pockets, setting his messenger bag down at the front desk and grabbing a wet wipe from the container to help you wipe down tables. He often helped you with your closing work when he arrived so late, especially on nights you had classes after work. “How about you?”

You shrugged, gesturing around the room with your hands. “It’s the library. Same thing everyday here.”

“That’s not true. What about the clown?” 

A laugh burst from you as you remembered the story you told him the other day on the phone, you curled up in bed and him sitting on a couch in a hotel room five states away. You stayed up late until he got back from the police station just to tell him about the man who came in dressed in a full clown get-up to print out coloring book pages for a birthday party he was running late to. It made your whole week and you just had to tell him, howling particularly hard about how Mrs. Wilson, after thoroughly wiping down the printer, printed out a notice to put on the front door instating a library dress code of no costumes. 

“The clown was probably the most interesting thing to ever happen in this library. That says something about how boring it is.”

“Is the FBI showing up everyday not interesting?” He mocked confused.

You gave him a playful glare over your shoulder. “Okay. I guess you can be the second most interesting thing to ever happen in this library. Right below the clown.”

Spencer chuckled. “I should be offended by that, shouldn’t I?”

“Feel how you want to feel, Spencer. But Bo-Bo is the only one who’s given me coloring book sheets.” You shrugged, playing nonchalance. 

“Oh, because I print those out so often at my job? If I did, there wouldn’t be enough crayons at the dollar store for you to color them all.” Maybe he was in a fake competition with a clown for your favor. Either way, when you ducked your head with a breathy giggle, he knew he won it. 

When you both finished wiping down the tables, he took out the trash while you set about turning off the lights, shutting down the computers, and other small tasks. He met you at the front desk as you collected your bag and jacket, pulling his messenger bag back over his own head. He held the door open for you as you both left the library and stood by your side as you locked the doors. 

“Thank you for helping me close,” you smiled at him as you tucked the keys into your bag.

“Of course.” He wanted to say it should have been Mrs. Wilson helping you, because the old bat usually took off an hour or so before close, but you brushed him off every time he suggested reporting her and he didn’t want to sour your mood. He also liked walking you to your car, especially when it was this late and dark, because the thought of anything happening to you was so devastating he couldn’t stand to think about it.

So he walked with you down the staircase and across the lot to where you parked your car early this morning and he pulled in next to you a little while ago. It was already dark, but the street lamp you parked your car under illuminated you and him as you stood under it, arms wrapped around yourself. You searched for something to say, he could see it in the way your lips twitched and your eyes roamed his face. For a moment, the sound of crickets and the eerie hum of night faded, and Derek’s words were thunder in his ears. He would never know unless he asked you, and he couldn’t live looking at your sweet face knowing he never even tried.

“Would you want to go on a date with me?”

Your eyes nearly as big as planets amplified by your glasses, which glinted off them as you nodded rapidly, lips parting to take in a sharp breath. “Yes!”

Spencer was taken aback. His ears buzzed and a tingling sensation filled his extremities. He was elated, but thrown off by your complete enthusiasm. “Wha–really?”

You shook your head at him, laughing breathily as if he stole the wind from you. “Yes, of course I do, Spencer. I–I’ve wanted. . .” Your eyes looked between his nervously.

“You wanted what?” He insisted, leaning in because he had to know what you’ve been thinking, what you’ve been wanting from him that he missed. 

You looked down shyly, picking at your nails despite how your fingers shook. “I wanted to ask you out when I first met you. When you were just some guy in the library, and I thought you were obviously flirting by trying to impress me but. . . then you were telling the truth and I–I was so embarrassed I was wrong and I thought you didn’t like me like that. . . and soon enough you weren’t just some guy, you were Spencer, and I–um, I couldn’t let myself ruin it.”

His hands gently took yours, stopping their anxious picking. His pupils were blown wide as he looked at you, heart so full and beating so fast he heard it thrumming in his ears. “You couldn’t ruin anything. You’re so. . . perfect,” he mumbled, close enough to taste your air. “I haven’t been able to get you off my mind since you gave me that book. I saw you in every poem and reading your thoughts made me feel like I was in your head, feeling what you were feeling. I needed it after every case, I–I needed you. All I wanted was to ask you out but. . .”

He was at a loss for words, but you shook your hand, squeezing his hand in yours. “It’s okay, Spencer. . .” His eyes glanced down to your lips, but just as he considered leaning down to capture them with his, you ducked your head nervously again, softly letting go of his hands. Spencer reeled with disappointment he didn’t kiss you, stuffing his hands back into his pockets. “Um, I did give you that book on purpose. I think the most romantic thing on this Earth is poetry and. . . I hoped it was enough of a sign.”

He recovered quickly, excited just to know you returned his feelings. He sighed into the new open air between the two of you. “I knew it. You bewitched me.”

You giggled, a sweet sound that picked up as you met his eyes again, swatting at him with a hand. “No I didn’t!”

Your laugh dissipated and the two of you were standing in the parking lot, looking at each other under a streetlamp. “Saturday at seven?”

“What?”

“Our date? Is Saturday at seven okay?” He reiterated.

“Oh. Oh, yes. That’s a good time,” you stuttered, snatched from whatever daze you stared at him in. He smiled.

“Okay. I’ll call you tomorrow and we’ll figure out the details?” He offered. You needed time to process it, he thought, because he knew he did. He would get home and sit on his couch, replaying every word from your lips and flutter of your lash in his head. Maybe that was the best part of an eidetic memory.

“Okay.” You nodded. He opened your car door for you and you climbed inside. “Good night, Spencer,” you hummed at him before closing the door.

He watched you leaving the parking lot before he got into his own car because he had to sit there for a minute, calming his pounding heart before he got out on the road. For the first time in a while, he was most excited for Saturday over Sunday.

[lovecla]

IF YOU LOVE ME, LET ME KNOW | jack hughes.

00.2. how did you and jack meet?

➴ warnings: none!!

➴ word count: 1k

➴ author’s note: mostly sophia’s first nhl concert and how she and jackie boy met. i spent the entire morning working on that Nonsense outro and i am gonna say that im very proud of it lmfao. hope u enjoy!

—♡

THE room looked full.

On the stage, you could feel dozens, hell, hundreds of eyes on you. Shanon had warned you that at least two hundred people were expected but damn.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome our most expected guest for tonight, Sophia Montenegro!” A man’s theatrical voice was heard just before the first notes of Nonsense.

You and your team worked really hard to make this happen, because April flew by, really. Coachella was a hit and you got so many jobs out of it, it was crazy. But this was what you were looking forward to the most.

You sat on top of a piano, black dress shining with the lights directed at you. You smiled, feeling anxious and excited and maybe just a little bit nauseous too. There were men, women and children sitting in round tables in front of you, but what really caught your attention was the group of men sitting on the table right in front of the stage, all of them wearing shirts with your face in it. And they were screaming the loudest too.

“‘Think I only want one number in my phone, I might change your contact to ‘don’t leave me alone’.”

Singing for you meant living. It was a necessity, a need. Every time you stepped on a stage, you felt alive, you felt fulfilled. You felt like maybe you were on this planet for a reason, and that reason presented itself whenever the words came out of your mouth during a song.

So you enjoyed yourself, and watched as the other people did the same. Everyone seemed to enjoy the acoustic version of Nonsense— which you had never sung before, by the way— and it was so funny to see grown ass men singing the lyrics like their life depended on it.

“Lookin’ at you got me thinkin’ nonsense. Cartwheels in my stomach when you walk in…”

“Please do the outro!” Someone shouted before the end verse and you giggled. You were already planning on doing it, but you gave the man a thumbs up either way.

“Shanon said I should keep it PG.

So, Father, I might need to be set free.

Because I really want a Devils in me.”

Loud cheers were heard and you smiled, biting your lip.

The rest of the little concert went well, and when you noticed it, you were dancing on the stage with another five players, who had two left feet and were probably a bit drunk too, but it was so much fun. One of them even asked for the mic so he could sing for a while too. You had the time of your life and you really hoped everyone else did too.

When the last song— Espresso— ended, you received a standing ovation. You felt yourself tearing up just a bit, and you closed your eyes, bowing your head.

“Thank you so much, everyone, I had so much fun tonight,” you started, voice wobbly and tired. “I didn’t know you guys were my biggest fans…”

“Nico here went to your concert!” Some guy shouted, pointing at the man— Nico, you suppose— beside him. You laughed, blowing him a kiss. The Nico guy looked like a tomato, face all red and cute, but he was wearing your merch too.

“Well, now I need to change and from what I’ve heard, we’ll have some delicious food and more amazing singers tonight, so please don’t leave!” You said, leaving the stage after another round of applause.

You found Grace in your dressing room, and you both hugged each other, yelling with excitement. “Can you believe this is our life, baby?!” Grace yelled, and you shook your head no. “I can’t either. Anyways. You have to change into a jersey and I have to take pictures of you with it.”

You looked at the jerseys hanging on the wall in front of you and smiled. “Can I have a Nico one, please?”

—♡

AFTER taking pictures with the players and their families— some of them had daughters who loved you as well—, you found yourself near the food table. You were deadass starving and you needed to get your hands on a hot dog before you passed out. Oh, and a drink as well. It was hot there.

“You got the wrong number on your back.”

You heard a playful voice behind you and you would’ve cursed, if you hadn’t had your mouth full of bread. You tried to swallow it all before you actually turned around.

What you saw was… interesting. It was probably one of the youngest guys in there, perhaps even the same age as you, and he had beautiful, blue eyes. He was wearing a white jacket and a Devils cap, so he was definitely one of the players on the team.

“Wrong number?” You asked, looking at your jersey again, the #13 plastered on your arms and back.

“Yeah. Should be wearing an eighty-six jersey instead.” He smirked.

“Let me guess. That’s your number?”

“That’s the best number. A girl like you shouldn’t be wearing anything less.”

You ignored the compliment (was it even a compliment?) and plastered a smirk on your face, too.

“I think I’m fine with Nico’s number on me. Since he’s the captain and all,” you shrugged. “He also went to my concert so that proves he is the best.”

“Sweetheart, you seriously need someone to show you what best means,” he stepped closer and suddenly your heart was racing all over again. “I happen to be the right person for it.”

“Right person?” You chuckled. “Got your hopes way too high, don’t you, lover boy?”

He shrugged, the confident smirk never leaving his face.

“Just an offer. You did say you wanted a Devils inside you.”

You audibly scoffed. This handsome ass man, with the tiniest bit of an accent and a huge lot of an attitude had some balls.

But then again. Last time you had sex with someone was a year ago, with your ridiculous ex-boyfriend, Harris. You were feeling pretty needy, but with all the work and energy you had to put into your performances, you just didn’t find the time to deal with other dipshits.

At least this one looks like he knows here your clit is.

You stepped closer, noticing how you tilted your head up so you could look into his eyes.

“Is the offer still up?”

He smiled, cocking his head to the side.

“For you, doll? It will always be.”

[intimidating-fettuccine]

It's a complicated topic but... how would LJ, Sully and Jason (separately) react if they had a dream (although it would seem more like a nightmare) where Y/N tricked them?

The three of them like never dream in my opinion so it's definitely angst time but I tried to go more bittersweet. I hope you enjoy

LJ:

Jack almost never dreams, mostly because he almost never sleeps, as it's not necessary for him to function, but most nights it's still just usually quiet in his mind. Tonight, however, was very much not quiet. He'd been feeling quite stressed lately, especially because the two of you hadn't been able to have as much time together, and it seemed his anxieties had manifested as nightmares to haunt him that evening. The words you'd yelled at him, as you'd turned and left him, told him to never speak to you again, it had hurt him more than he thought possible. He wakes, scared and upset, before you even notice the state he's in, chest heaving and tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. He shivers as he looks at you, happily curled into his chest and sleeping peacefully, and does his best to calm his racing heart. He pulls you on top of him as he shifts onto his back, staring up at his ceiling and trying to relax.

The shifting causes you to wake, and you tiredly ask him what's wrong, giving him a tired look of concern that has him chuckling and pressing kisses to your cheeks. He tells you he just wanted to cuddle you a bit more, and of course, you're never one to refuse his cuddles, so you curl up onto his chest, snuggling your head into his neck and soon drifting back to sleep. The warmth of your body is enough to comfort Jack, after all; it's proof you're here. You're here, and you're real, and you're not going anywhere, it was just a bad dream. Although he chooses not to go back to sleep, he enjoys spending his time waiting for the morning listening to your calming breathing, and enjoying the weight of your body on top of him. He'll tell you what happened when you awake, the horrible dream he had, and he knows you'll refute the dream, swearing your love for him as you always do, and the thought makes his heart flutter as he hugs you tighter against him, looking forward to those familiar words.

Sully:

Sully doesn't often have dreams, although when he does he tends to be frequented by nightmares, however, they're usually never about you. About his shared trauma with Liu, about his fears and anxieties in general, but when they do happen to be about you, it's usually about him failing to keep you safe in a nightmare, not you being the source of the nightmare. The words you tell him cut deep, and feel so real and painful, but he doesn't want to believe them. You've never looked at him with such hatred, and you'd never say such needlessly cruel things to him, you'd never run away from him, abandoning him in his misery. As he becomes aware of his dream, he fights against it, he knows you could never do this, but he can't pull himself out. It's not until you wake him up yourself that he's able to escape, his teary eyes opening to see you looking at him in deep care and concern.

He doesn't have the words to tell you what's wrong, only being able to mumble that it was a bad dream, and the knowing, loving smile you give him has his heart racing in his chest for another reason. You shift in bed, pulling him into your chest and pressing kisses to his forehead, rubbing his back in the way he's always preferred, and he feels himself calming down. He nuzzles into your neck, quietly crying out that you'd left him, that you'd said he wasn't good enough, and while he knows you'd never say that it still hurts. You hug him tighter, reinforcing that you would never, ever say that, that he's more than enough for you and you'll never leave him like that. His brain is still anxious, but his body can't help but relax into your familiarity, and soon he's drifting off to more peaceful dreams, still clinging to your body for warmth and comfort. When he awakes the following morning, well rested and greeted by your happily smiling face, he knows for certain that everything will be alright. You're not going anywhere, and he'll be able to protect you forever, just as he always does. That thought brings him more joy than he feels he deserves, so he cherishes you and your love more than anything.

Jason:

Jason, as I've said before, also doesn't need to sleep. As my Jason is robotic, he simply enters a powered-down state when he lies beside you at night, and it's rare for his mind to wander and present him with dreams, but the occasional bad dream does sometimes torment him. While normally a still sleeper, as I've previously said, he tosses and turns on nights when he's having bad dreams, and tonight was no different for him. And, as usual, he's awoken by you powering him on and calling for him, holding him close, and asking him what's wrong. All he can do at first is look up at you in confusion and pain, tears streaming down his cheeks, his eyebrows twitching as he tries to process what's happening before his lips tremble and he clings to you as though his life depends on it.

He cries out, saying he had a horrible dream, one where you left him, where you told him he'd never be good enough for you, that he didn't deserve someone like you, that you'd left him all alone so maliciously, and he was so scared because he loves you so much and it hurt him so badly. Jason is, in general, often scared that you'll realize you deserve better than him (which you always deny and say he's the best you could ever have), and it seems his worries became a nightmare for him tonight. You hold him close as he hiccups through his tears, whispering comforting words and smothering him in all the affectionate gestures you know he loves. You remind him that he's your one and only, that nobody could ever beat him for you, and when he asks if you truly mean it, you smile at him and tell him you swear your life on it. He shudders out a breath as he tiredly clings to you, snuggling into your neck and holding you close. The two of you stay up talking for a while, and it reminds Jason how much you care for him, and how much he cares for you, setting his mind and heart at ease as he finally relaxes once more.

[audzss]

Thin Line ~2~

Summary: After the fateful night of Rafe crawling through Y/n's window, everything went back to normal. Until a week later, when there's a familiar knock. Y/n can't help but wonder what kind of game Rafe is playing.

Thin Line Masterlist

Word Count: 1,412

Warnings: Talks of Domestic Violence

Thin Line

When Y/n had woken up, Rafe was already gone, the only reminiscence of him was a crumpled up blanket on the side of the floor where he slept. The fact that he had just left without even letting her know made her feel a little weird, like it was something that she had to hide.

When she had showed up to her first college class that morning, Rafe seemed completely un-phased by what had happened, like he didn't have a care in the world, his bruised cheek and eye being shown to everyone, but no one dared to ask. In fact, most people probably already knew what happened, Ward wasn't very good at hiding the way he treated his own son.

As she walked past him, he just mumbled the usual, "Bitch.", and she just scoffed, walking past and mumbling her usual "Douche." This whole situation left something inside of her feeling deeply unsettled, almost feeling bad for him. Well, she would have felt bad for him, if he wasn't such a dick.

At Lunch, Y/n's friend sat at the same table as Top, her boyfriend. Which happened to be Rafe's bestfriend. Great, just her day. When he sat down, he immediately targeted her. "Huh, didn't know the circus was in town." Y/n Immediately stood up, ready to walk up to him and beat his ass, and she would have, if it wasn't for her friend who dragged her back into her seat.

Over Lunch, they had only said a few more words too each other. Mostly insults, some arguing over random shit that their friends were bringing up, and it finally felt normal again. Normal if Y/n ignored the nagging feeling of her heart strings tugging every time she looked up and saw the bruises on his face.

-

"He did what!?" Y/n's bestfriend yelled over the phone. She really, really tried not to tell her what Rafe did, but she just couldn't get the whole thing off her mind. Anytime she had a moment to think about anything, her mind would always lead her to a panicked Rafe forcing himself through her window, crying and begging her to let him stay over.

"It's not that big of a deal, we all know how Ward is.. I just feel bad, like maybe I'm being too mean to him." Y/n mumbles, tapping her pen on her desk while she stares at her homework that she has no plans of completing anytime soon. Chelsea scoffs over the phone.

"Y/n, he was being a dick first. You have every right in the world to be a bitch to him."

She groans, letting her head fall into her hands. "I just-", she stops at the sound of someone knocking.. on her window. She looks over to see a tired looking Rafe through the glass, his head is down and one of his hands is scratching at the back of his neck.

There’s got to be a reason he came back to her house, there’s no way his dad took his car keys again. Besides, why would he want to be here in the first place? They don’t like each other, they don’t get along, they can’t be around each other for more than 30 seconds without throwing insults around left and right, so why is he coming to her?

She sighs and looks back at her phone, "I.. I'll call you back Chelsea.." She says with a sigh before hanging up and getting up off of her desk chair, walking towards the window yet again. She slides the glass up quietly, and Rafe finally decides to look up at her.

He looks thoroughly exhausted, heavy bags under his eyes that he looks like he's having trouble keeping open. She just sits there staring at him for a second, giving him a frustrated look. He opens his mouth, then stops himself, Y/n wonders what he was going to say.

"What are you doing here, again." She mumbles, watching him frown and look down, fumbling his hands together in an anxious way. "Can I come in..?" He whispers, and Y/n doesn't know if it's on purpose or if he's too tired to talk any louder.

"Wow, actually asking me this time? How thoughtful of you." She says, rolling her eyes. He furrows his eyebrows, quickly losing his patience. "Can I come in or not?" He says a little louder, his voice sounded like it was barely working.

Y/n sighs and moves out of the way, allowing room for him to pull himself up and into her room. At least he's not soaking wet this time around.

She carefully closes her window, not wanting to make much noise, before looking back at Rafe. "You look tired." He scoffs, rolling his eyes. "Ya' think?"

Y/n crosses her arms, giving him a pointed look that says 'if you keep acting like this I'm kicking you out.' He presses his lips together and looks around a little, before walking towards her desk and settling in the office chair that she had just been sitting in to do her homework.

"What are you doing?" Y/n asks, annoyed that he's waltzing around like he owns the place, typical Cameron. "I think-" He interrupts himself with a yawn, "I think I'll sleep in the chair, the floor hurt my back."

"No, this is my house, your sleeping on the floor. Besides, I was doing homework." She states, walking over to where he's sitting down, his eyes closed but his face still tense.

"Right, we get it, your better than everyone else miss 'I do my homework every night'." He uses finger quotations for the last part, and Y/n's patience is running thin. "Get. Out. Of. The. Chair." She says, one last time. He squints one eye open to look at her before sighing and standing up, wobbling around a little.

She smiles and seats herself down on her chair, but her little moment was almost immediately ruined by the person who ruins it best. As she turns around to revel in her win, she see's Rafe splayed out on her bed.

She hurriedly stands up. "Have you lost your mind! You are not sleeping in my bed." He just mumbles something incoherent and buries himself deeper into the pillow.

"Rafe!!" She almost yells, wincing at the fact that her dad might have just heard that. He groans and turns over onto his back. "I get it, we hate each other, but I just wanna sleep here.. until your done.. with.." He trails off, already falling asleep.

Y/n almost laughs at that.. Not the falling asleep part, nope, definitely not endearing. "Pfft.. You don't hate me, if you did you wouldn't be here." But before she could coax an answer out of him, he was already asleep. She groans and gives up, allowing him to sleep there, just until she was done with her homework of course.

-

After a two long hours of what felt like an endless amount of numbers and equations, she was finally done with all her homework. Her eyelids felt too heavy as she limped over to her bed, before remembering that a Rafe Cameron occupied it. She looked over his sleeping figure before reaching out and shaking him.

"Rafe.. Wake up.." She mumbled, shaking him a little harder, but to no avail. At this point, she was too tired to deal with this, and it would just have to wait until morning. She pushed his arm and leg over, making enough room for her to lay down without being close to him.

She yawned, reaching out to turn off her lamp.

"I'm scared, Y/n." She immediately stopped in her tracks, that bastard, he was awake the whole time. It took her a good ten seconds before his words even processed in her brain.

"Huh..? Of what..?" She mumbled, sitting up to turn and look at Rafe, who was staring at the ceiling with a lost look in his eyes. "He keeps.. He's getting worst, last time I was here.. because I left the fucking front door open.. I didn’t mean too..”

Y/n's heart drops at his words, and no matter how much she despises Rafe, she wouldn't wish something like this on her worst enemy. "I.. I'm sorry Rafe.." She whispers, truly meaning it.

When he finally looks at her, his eyes are half way closed and glossy, his bottom lip trembling. "I don't.. know what to do." He breaks down, tears streaming down his red cheeks.

Y/n doesn't even think before laying down beside him and putting an arm around his body, stroking up and down his arm in a soothing manner. "It's okay.. You'll figure it out, I promise."

[eboni-napalm]

𝒦𝒾𝓃𝓀𝓉𝑜𝒷𝑒𝓇 𝟤𝟢𝟤𝟦 - 𝒟𝒶𝓎 𝒯𝓌𝑜 | 𝒯𝒽𝒾𝑔𝒽 𝑅𝒾𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑔 - 𝒜𝒾𝓃𝓏 𝒪𝑜𝒶𝓁 𝒢𝑜𝓌𝓃

Ainz Ooal Gown/Momonga (Overlord) X Reader

Summary: Your current relationship with your Guild Leader is already playfully flirtatious, if not mostly in a platonic manner, mainly to keep secrecy intact as Players- but one accidental slip-up during another one of your secret meetups leads to a scenario neither of you expected in the slightest- but certainly won't say no to.

Word Count: 3,247

Warnings: Non-penatrative smut, monster fucking, throne room/throne chair sex, momentary power dynamic, begging, MAJOR swearing/cursing. Reader is written as female with female anatomy/genitalia. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Bone Daddy. Stupid Sexy Lich. Sorry not sorry, I have a thing for hot skeleton men now and he's the fucking reason for it. Also, we all know this man(?) is actually an anxious mess underneath the physical form he has, but he deserves to have one moment where we can imagine him as a temporary Power Top. Eat up, ladies.

You already had a gut feeling that it was incredibly grand and massive, that much was for certain- but somehow, finally seeing it for yourself, seeing the actual, real thing- still made your jaw lightly fall open in pure, utter awe. 

The royal hall of the Great Tomb of Nazarick was quite possibly one of the most beautiful sights you had ever laid your eyes upon. 

But in all reality, it wasn't all because of the vast array of emblem laden banners, the plush, velvet carpeting of deep crimson that lay beneath your feet, or the gargantuan, looming chandeliers- no, far from it. Your main focus was drawn to the glistening gold throne chair at the very end of the hall, resting dead center against a wall of champagne-colored organ pipes, nestled within the remains of overgrown sapphire crystal.  

Or rather, the creature occupying said throne.

Momonga- Lord Momonga- or as he had more recently started to refer to himself as- Ainz Ooal Gown, sat upon the glistening royal cathedra with his usual aura of intimidation and authority, tall and proud as always. Unlike before, he was without the staff of the guild's (and by temporary proxy, his) namesake, his deft, slender fingers instead splayed along the edge of one of the armrests. He'd changed out of his thick gold and red robes from earlier's meetings, now back in his usual deep violet hooded cloak and headdress. You could definitely tell he felt much more comfortable in this attire; his body language while confined in the heavier attires was very stiff in comparison. 

You also weren't complaining that the violet robes always gave you a better look at his broad shoulders and ribcage. The very sight of them always made your cheeks warm, though you would never admit it out loud- mostly for fear of Albedo violently murdering you for even voicing the thought of it. 

Even so... you couldn't blame her for her attraction to the Lich.  

You were drawn to Ainz as well, but unlike her, you never purposefully overstepped your boundaries with him or openly declared that level of adoration for him at the top of your lungs. That, and you were also a Player of Yggdrasil who became trapped when the game's systems went offline, so you had that very special, almost intimate lifeline in common with him that allowed you two to bond almost instantly when you met.  

"I apologize that this morning's meetings took longer than expected," the Overlord's voice, deep and oddly soothing to your ears, echoed softly through the hall as you resumed your approach. "Hopefully you weren't waiting too long for me." 

You shook your head, a smile on your face as you reached the end of the long carpet and briefly bowed your head in a proper greeting. "I kept myself busy in the meantime," you replied. "Pray tell, though, what did keep you?" 

At your question, he visibly straightened, but only for a moment- he leaned forward with a soft groan, running a hand down his jaw before it dropped to his side. "You'd find it more amusing than an actual issue, as it sounds as such, but..." A long, bony finger tapped against the solid gold of the throne chair. "Albedo and Aura ended up getting into a little bit of a confrontation- mind you, it was more of a childish spat than anything. It mostly stemmed from both of them wanting to sit in my lap." 

The ends of your lips couldn't stop themselves from upturning to nearly reach your ears in good-natured amusement. You could only imagine what that scene looked like- Aura made sense; she more than likely saw the Lich as a parental figure and picturing her perched on his legs was understandably adorable. Albedo, on the other hand? No doubt any outbursts from her relating to that spawned from unbridled jealousy, which was odd since Aura showed no form of romantic attraction for Ainz (and therefore, might have made herself look a bit like an idiot in the process). 

Then again, Albedo would threaten anyone who even looked at the Overlord for more than two seconds in any form of positive light that wasn't related to fear or obedience. The only reason you even remotely got a pass in that regard was because you were a Player, and by extension, a Supreme Being- basically a God to the NPC's and everyone else in this new world- and therefore, by technicality, had a rank of superiority. Even to the denizens of Nazarick. 

"You were popular today, huh?" You responded, eyes crinkling as you smiled. "Regular ladies' man, it seems. I don't suppose you've got time or energy for one more person?" Jokingly, you tilted your head up and batted your eyelashes at him in an over-the-top fashion, which allowed a chuckle to reach your ears as he extended a hand out to you. 

"For you, my dear friend, I believe I can make an exception," You could hear the smile in his voice and see a brief twinkle in his glowing red eyes, and you strolled over towards him, up the three small steps that led to the throne, and proceeded to splay yourself across both his legs; your head rested on one armrest of the chair while your feet dangled over the other, your arms folded neatly across your stomach. Despite him being basically a skeleton, he was, oddly enough, quite comfortable; his robes certainly helped lessen any prominent protrusions that his bones would have normally presented.  

Ainz peered down at you from your position across his legs, that same smile audible in his words as he spoke to you again. "Ah-ah, that's cheating," he chastised you playfully. "You're laying, not sitting." 

Feigning offended innocence, you placed a hand over your chest and gasped. "What, I'm not allowed a little extra luxury as your most trusted and precious companion? I'm hurt, Lord Ainz," You drawled your words out in an exaggerated manner, which caused him to chuckle again as you tried and failed to hide a smile. "But if you so insist, I guess I can position myself properly." 

With that sentence, you started to adjust yourself into a sitting position, but as you moved your hips to better situate yourself on his lap, you unconsciously ended up straddling him and your clothed core brushed against his leg at just the right spot- enough to make you stop dead in your tracks as a sharp inhale escaped your lips, the faintest hint of a soft moan accenting the sound of your hitched breathing. 

Fuck.  

The Overlord, too, froze in his place at that exact same moment, the glowing red dots of his eyes almost shrinking to pinpricks. “That-“ he paused before saying anything else, in fear of his voice cracking even more than it did with just that one single word. “That wasn’t meant to happen on purpose, was it?” 

Briefly holding your breath, you exhaled slowly, biting your lip as your eyes closed in a mix of embarrassment and sheer want, one hand gripping at the armrest at your side for any means of support as you had to literally force yourself with every muscle in your body not to do what you just did a second time. “No, not on purpose,” you barely managed out in a whisper. “But..." 

He turns his head in your direction to stare at you intently, almost nervously, as his gaze bores onto yours. "But...?" he pushes you slowly, not wanting to rush the answer he doesn't know whether or not you'll give him. 

You inch your head up at a snail's pace, inch by inch, until your eyes lock onto his. Your pulse audibly thrums against your neck, and you swear you can feel it in your throat as your body trembles above him. "...I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to do it again." 

The moment that sentence left your lips, the all-too familiar sound of Ainz's emotion inhibitor activated, his jaw visibly tightening to avoid going slack as a soothing green light washed over his form. You bit your bottom lip for a split second, trying and failing to hide the sheer embarrassment of your own- sure, the two of you had exchanged jokingly flirtatious comments in the past, but that was all in good fun. This? You'd been caught red-handed now, and there was no way out this time. 

However, the low whisper that escaped him nearly made your legs collapse from underneath you. 

"...I'd be lying myself if I said I wouldn't stop you." 

May whoever was the closest thing to a god in this world that wasn't the Lich underneath you have mercy on your fucking soul. 

Slowly- almost experimentally, so as to not rush him despite the permission given to you, you gently ground yourself against his leg once more, your lips parting slightly at the contact of the smoothness of his thigh that was still hidden by the robes. You were about to ask him if that was too much, if you needed to slow down before you did anything more, but his next actions surprised you so much to the point that your heartbeat nearly doubled in speed. 

His hand tapped lightly against your waist, signaling for you to lift yourself off him- and just as you were about to whine in protest, he grabbed a handful of the violet silk that covered his lower body and brushed it almost violently to the side, allowing the stark white bone of his thigh to be fully accessible and visible to you- then, his index finger slowly slid past the waistband of your leggings to trace a line along your skin, gently digging into your hip. “It might be more enjoyable on both ends if these weren’t in the way.” 

You didn’t have to be told twice at all- briefly standing back on your feet to all but rip the tight fabric down from your waist and legs, not even giving a second glance down as they bunched up at your lower calves, you mounted the Overlord’s lap again, now without any obstruction between either of you this time around. The moment your slit made proper contact with his thigh, you just about lost your mind right there, your entrance already slick from the intimate touch of skin on bone that made your head spin. One hand white-knuckle gripping the armrest of the throne as the other balled into a fist on top of your other leg, you finally began to set a rhythm, albeit a sloppy one;  the sharp, yet still smooth ridges of his thigh rubbed so perfectly against your core that it caused you to fall forward, your forehead resting against his shoulder as shaky breaths fell from your lips, accented by hint of high-pitched moans that started out softly, just above a whisper, but steadily grew in volume as you rutted against him again, and again, and again- you were so caught up in the literal and metaphorical heat of the moment that you almost failed to remember that one of Ainz’s hands hadn’t left its place at your hip, having now wound itself around your waist to hold you firmly against him by the dip in your lower back, his large palm digging into your skin through the fabric of your- now seemingly unbearingly tight- underbust corset. 

The low groan from the Lich almost made you slam your hips further down onto him in mindless desperation. “Falling apart like this… all because of me?” his baritone voice reached your ears, dripping like molten hot honey as you felt the hand that was on your back untying the ribbons on your corset. “If this is all it took to have you, my dear, I- we should have done something sooner.”  

You were still in a prime position to watch the piece of black leather loosen and fall to one side of your stomach and waist, freeing the lower half of your off-the-shoulder blouse from its original confines of being trapped against your abdomen. Unconsciously, you attempted to shrug your upper body out of the blouse, which now felt almost suffocatingly hot against your skin. After one too many of your attempts failed, you finally decided to all but tear it up and above your shoulders and threw it over towards the arm rest on the other side of the throne chair, your now freely exposed breasts bouncing lightly at the action before relaxing against your chest. 

“Nnngh, Ainz...” you settled for moaning out the name he’d given himself as opposed to his normal name- it rolled off the tongue easier. 

Almost immediately after his name left your lips, you yelped quietly in shock as he lifted you off his lap again, only to place you back down in the other direction, your back now slumped against his ribcage. This almost allowed you a better angle to grind against his leg, which you were eternally thankful for- but you were met with another surprise that made the heat in your stomach pool even deeper than before. “That’s Lord Ainz to you,” he almost growled the words into your ear, one of his hands trailing slowly up from your waist to your stomach- too slowly. It was almost painful, the pace he was going at. “I’ll reward you if you say it correctly this time.” 

Where the fuck did he get this wave of confidence from? And how the hell was it so fucking hot? 

Your head fell back against his shoulder, breathing heavily against his neck. “My Lord- Lord Ainz,” the title sounded so good- far better than you thought it would- coming from your lips. 

A dark chuckle disguised as a hum escaped him in response to your words. “Good girl,” your name accompanied the spoken praise in a low murmur, and you gasped as the hand that was on your stomach finally reached up to fully envelop one of your breasts in his palm, the sharp tips of his fingers skimming over the hardened peak of your nipple before pinching it in what was a feather-touch for him, but a stinging jolt of white-hot ecstasy for you- your folds sunk even further onto the edge of his thigh and your jaw fell open in response to the pleasure that shot through your core, your mouth brushing against the thick vertebrae of his neck in a wet, open-mouthed kiss. You were an absolute writhing, panting mess, almost close to drooling as a result, and this sudden burst of change from the normally anxious man you knew was not helping in that regard- but also very much helping in another. 

“You’re getting so close, aren’t you, my dear?” he edged you further again, and you realized his other hand was now sneaking up to drag his nails along your inner thigh, leaving triangular-shaped indents as he dug into your skin. You knew exactly what he was doing, where that hand was going to go, but you also knew he was going to make you work for what you wanted- and that was what killed you the most. “Tell me how badly you want it.” 

With your hips thrusting violently against his leg, coating his femur with your slick, you let out a cry of frustrated longing and want as your tongue nearly lolled out of your mouth. “Please let me cum, Lord Ainz,” the words fell from your mouth in a sobbing plea, your entire body now rocking in the same erratic rhythm; it allowed the palm still fully grasping at your breast to rub repeatedly across your stiff nipple, and you let a loud whine accent your cries. “Please, I’m so fucking close, I want to cum so bad, please, pleasepleasepleasepleeeeease-!” 

Your state of absolute desperation seemed to answer all your prayers, and finally- fucking finally- his other hand was finally where you wanted it to go, a long, pointed finger rubbing swift, deft circles on and around your swollen bud, amplifying your already overstimulated sense of pleasure even higher as you thrusted up to meet his figners while still writhing against his thigh, and he only spoke his permission to you in two words. “You may.” 

The volume of your moans climbed higher and higher, almost turning into screams as your words nearly slurred together into unintelligible cries. “FUCK- fuck, yes, right there, Lord Ainz, right fucking there, yes, fuck, don’t stop-” you couldn’t stop yourself; now almost babbling incoherently with your peak approaching faster, faster, faster- “Mmmmmmohhhh, yes, fuck, fuck, FUCK- oh, FUCK, I’m fucking cumming yesyesyesyesyesssssaaaahh-!” 

All at once, you let out a near mirror-shattering scream as the knot in your core released, erupting violently as though it were an active volcano; you swore you actually felt yourself spill onto his thigh, the nectar from your sex coating his leg from underneath you as you continued to slowly rock against him a few more times to ride out your orgasm. Your breathing was heavy and labored, your head still resting languidly against his bare shoulder as he slowly withdrew his hand from your folds, his finger leaving a damp trail across your thigh.  

Good god, did you really let yourself go that hard? For a second, you felt your cheeks burn up from the state you were previously in- it was almost embarrassing.  

But fuck, did it feel so good. 

Only when he was absolutely certain you were satiated and able to stand without falling over did he gently assist you with rising to your feet, delicately handing you your previously discarded blouse as you hoisted your leggings back up. You slowly pulled the garment back over your head, stopping only to turn back around and have Ainz relace and tighten the ribbons on your corset without him asking to do so. It was oddly sweet- and, in a way, very like him. 

“If-” His voice cracked at the first word he tried to speak, and you couldn’t help but smile and let a soft chuckle fall from your lips before he cleared his throat and straightened himself. “If ever there comes a moment where you would, perhaps... want to do that again, at all- not that there’s anything wrong with that, but you know- I mean-” There he was, slightly stammering over trying to find the right words- he was back to his normal self again. 

You cut him off, gently pressing a finger to his teeth with a soft smile. “You just give the word if you ever need an excuse to slip away from Albedo,” you hummed, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek. “And next time- which there definitely will be-” you accented those words with a wink, which caused his eyes to shrink again. “We'll do it in my quarters. Because unlike with your room, she won’t come barging in on us unannounced.” Leaning in once more, you cupped a hand next where his ear would be and whispered softly to him. “...And personally, I don’t think you’d be a fan of a Succubus who’s madly infatuated with you finding out first-hand that you’re fucking the one other Supreme Being of Nazarick, would you?” 

His jaw fell open as his emotion inhibitor lit up again in response, the bell-like sound of your laughter echoed off the walls of the royal hall, and just like that, all was normal once again. 

[shrimshrim4fun]

PTN as Chinese Myths:

Adela: 梦貘 (mèng mò) 

A mythical creature that eats your nightmares in the middle of the night. Usually resides in the forest and sleep under trees but, at night will come out and eat nightmares. When having nightmares will come to your aid.

Notes:

-She blends well with society and has a small cabin a few murmurs away from the city

-She looks like a human though her nails are slightly longer

-Her physical body is more frail than others in her human form and paler skin. And the whites of her hair covers more mass

-Very doting person and is curious about how you know what she is. Though her curiosity turns into something more…

-Will use the excuse of her “not wanting to let you have nightmares” to let her watch you sleep or let her sleep with you in bed

L.L: 鲛人 (jiāo rén)

Similar to a mermaid though live in different areas. Known for their beauty and have scales near their cheek bone. Also their half human body and half fish like bottom. Their tears turn into pearls and have soothing voices that sing

Notes:

-Found her tangled up in fish nets and struggling as she got blown onto the shore by some pirates

-After rescuing her and taking back home she was cautious at you at first until you started to feed her some fish. After some time she finally realized you weren’t gonna hurt her and slowly got more familiar to you

-Her tail is a dark blue leading to a more teal blue at the fins. And some scales near her cheekbones. Her hearing is also more sensitive than others

-Didn’t like it when you sent her back to sea. Though every time you went to visit her she’ll give you all types of shells and pearls. Only saying it was a gift, she was courting you

Sumire: 花妖 (huā yāo)

Is made up from numerous types of flowers that turns into a human. They have enchanting and bewitched beauty. Used mostly to seduce and kill humans.

Notes:

-Long black hair all the way down to her legs and deep purple eyes that look like they can pierce through your soul. Has purple and pink flowers adorning her hair with some golden accessories

-Looks like a very caring and loving person in the morning while hunts down humans at night. Her fragile looking appearance deceive lots of people from what she it

-Was gonna hunt and kill you after knowing you know what she was. But for unknown reasons, she didn’t. Sometimes can see her caught staring at you

-Once you received a flower crown at your door with a love poem at your door. Though you didn’t know from far away she was watching you, a little anxious about your reaction to her love

Ummm I hope y’all enjoyed it. If you guys have any other suggestions on PTN as Chinese myths please interact with my inbox or if you want me to elaborate on any characters (like my Garofano one) you can ask :) I know Adela’s doesn’t make too much sense but I was thinking of having them have similar abilities to the myth and some qualities. Size, different features, or any colors, etc I’ll add into it. I’m probably gonna include NSFW in some into this (I’ll find a way) Probably gonna make like head canons for them, so just ask for characters if you want them :D There’s some things I haven’t added into Adela’s but I’ll elaborate in another post ><

[lightlycareless]

imagine naoya leaving for work then comes naomi chasing after him with tears in her eyes because she knows she won’t see him for days.😭

HELLO!!!!

WELP MORE DOMESTIC STUFF ON THE WAY!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA I love baby Naomi 😭 I wish it could be us Naoya and our baby happy together forever.

This has the same energy as when you and Naoya cry when realizing Naomi has to go to school or is at school and not home anymore 🤣 but omg this is such a dramatic moment in her life, the moment she realizes her papa isn't actually there most of the time, kept oblivious thanks to your consistent work of distracting her 😭 how dare we fool her?!

Anyways, here are the warnings: fluff. you have a daughter with naoya named naomi. she is smol... we need to protect her 🥺💖

Happy reading!

How you managed to keep the truth from Naomi for so long is something that has to be commended! Though your daughter’s innocence helped you a lot.

Naturally you felt bad for taking advantage of her naïveté, but it was genuinely the only way to prevent her from crying—alongside the video calls Naoya would always try to make back home: one in the morning during breakfast, another at lunch, and the last one before heading to bed.

Though it seemed that these calls were mostly made with Naoya’s benefit in mind, for the sight of Naomi's face lightening up upon hearing her dear papa's voice is one that always melted all his worries away, as well as anxious to return home.

So that, alongside your constant distraction of Naomi by bringing her with you to wherever you went, whether it being going from one side of the estate to the other to oversee your duties, or going out shopping with your staff, nobody could say your daughter was unattended—and subsequently, ignorant of her father’s absence.

Because of said things, the two thought of themselves to be very lucky to have such a well-behaved child, the envy of some in more ways than one!

Until she grew old enough to realize what was going on.

It was only inevitable, encouraged that she’d become conscious of her surroundings, which you began to notice when she started giving slightly more complex storylines to her dolls when playing with them… as silly as that might sound.

And while it was endearing to see her grow, it was also highly worrying, for you fretted about the kind of reaction she’d have when she finally acknowledges the reason why her father wasn’t around—an unprecedented event that occurred as followed.

As customary, you always made sure to either ask your staff to distract Naomi whenever you were off to bid your farewells to Naoya, or if his departure is happening at night, place her in bed, rocked to sleep by her papa before carefully sneaking out of the bedroom and meeting by the entrance.

Tonight, was to be the latter, with Naoya placing one last kiss on Naomi’s forehead as she snored softly, a sight that squeezed his heart, silently cursing his responsibilities and his supposed duty to the clan, collecting himself afterwards and heading over to your direction to get another spoonful of that same regret—why did he have to leave?

“When will you come back?” you murmur, wrapping your arms around his chest and holding him tightly against you, not wanting to let go.

“In a few weeks.” Naoya sighs, kissing the top of your head and resting his head above yours. “I hope Naomi doesn’t grow too much when I’m away.”

The slightest hesitation in your response is enough for Naoya to pursue the matter, placing his fingers underneath your chin and raising your gaze to his.

“What is it?”

“Oh, well—Naomi doesn’t fit in her onesies again; the ones I got her last month!” you respond. “…I fear that when you come back, she might not be as small as you remember.”

Naoya frowns.

There is one thing he hated from coming back home and that was realizing he’s missed out in his daughter’s growth—and for something as stupid as doing these lousy missions HQ couldn’t bother to assign to literally anyone else.

Though, in some ways, it was his fault. For he wanted to reassure his position as the future leader of the clan, prove that he was worthy, and apparently the only way to do so was to drown himself with work.

«It won’t be much longer» Is what he’d tell himself from time to time. «Everything I do is for my family’s wellbeing. To give them a life where they can be safe and happy.»

A life where the only things either would have to worry about is what stuffed animals to buy for Naomi, or where should they go for holiday next time he’s off work…

Or what to do with a curious baby girl that woke up earlier than anticipated, upset that her parents weren’t by her side, leading her to exit her bedroom and head towards the direction she hears them to be, all in the innocent quest for answers— coincidentally, her parent’s torment.

“Pa—pa! Mama!” Naomi coos upon seeing her parents, a wide smile on her chubby little face as she rushed to them, a sight that would’ve normally inspired the two to run to her in return and scoop her into their arms. But for now, only made you wonder how she managed to escape Mariya’s attention?! Wasn’t she supposed to keep an eye on her?!

“Pumpkin, you’re supposed to be asleep!” Naoya says, perhaps thinking Naomi would stop on her tracks and head back—or who knows?

But she ignores his words, diligently continuing her way to them until she was able to cling onto Naoya’s leg, lightly tugging at the fabric of his pants as if asking him to pick her up and pepper her with all the kisses he gives her whenever doing so.

And while Naomi doesn’t retaliate when you’re the one that gives her those gestures, it’s only when you slowly begin to separate her from her papa that the issues begin.

Naomi first attempts to break away from your embrace by pushing away, looking over to Naoya then back to you with a whine and pout that lets you know this isn’t what she wanted, nor is she open to negotiate.

“You’re supposed to be sleeping, mochi.” You say, hoping she’ll understand and stop moving. But she doesn’t, if anything she insists even more! “Naomi, you have to—"

“No!” she cries, shaking her head. “Want papa!”

Her disappointment doesn’t come until she sees Naoya’s lack of initiative, the unusually quiet, distant response to her calls that made her eyes tear up a bit.

But her heartbreak only occurs when you eventually resort to the thing the two probably should’ve done way before, and that is, telling her the truth.

“No, baby, you can’t have papa because, well, he has to leave.”

Naomi frowns, the last sliver of hope unwilling to give up just yet, as if skeptical of your words, believing you to be hiding the truth…

Until Naoya confirms it as well.

“I won’t be gone for long— I just gotta do some missions, I’ll be back before you even—”

“No!” Naomi shakes her head. “Papa no go!”

“I have to. It’s my job; you know I’m a sorcerer and—”

“No! You don’t—you don’t—leave…!”

And so, she weeps, pouring her small heart out with the most heart wrenching cries either have ever heard in their life—because they weren’t ones of hunger or displeasure. They were ones of sadness, upset that one of the most important people in her life is leaving, to return God knows when.

“Naomi…” you murmur, attempting to comfort her by resting her head against your shoulder, to no avail. It was clear what she wanted, who she wanted, so Naoya decides to take her from your arms and soothe her himself, which in reality only made her cry even more, as if realizing this is the last time he was going to hug her—for now.

“I won’t be gone for long, princess.” Naoya attempts to comfort her, pinching her cheek in the usual teasing way that always had her giggling—but she was too distraught to do anything else but cry.

She couldn’t be blamed, for Naomi was only a child that just began to understand that sometimes, her parents weren’t always going to be there by her side. There would be moments where they’d have to temporarily part ways to do other things, but that didn’t mean they didn’t love her. Or that she wouldn’t be ok.

Maybe this was the result of your over-endearing ways. Perhaps the two were simply too much for her, and this led her to have issues at the mere thought of either’s departure. You were always there for her, anyways, so why did it have to be different now?

“Princess, there’s nothing to cry about, you know I’ll always be here with you…”

“Pa…paaa—!” she gaps, tightly holding onto his shirt with an unprecedented strength that only serves to reflect how heartbroken she was by his words. “No go!”

And she’d continue to cry well into the following days. Soon after waking up, having tired herself out by her tears, when remembering her papa wasn’t there anymore, and wouldn’t be, not even if she searched all around the estate.

The once hilarious video calls, for Naomi thought her father had shrunk, were now nothing but a sad endeavor, accompanied by her sobs and quiet pleads of his quick return.

“I love you, little mochi. I only left because I needed to.” Naoya would always remind her. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Mnnno!” She shakes her head. “Come back!”

“If you promise to behave, I’ll take you to that park you like so much.” Her papa offers. “We’ll get all the sweets you want, and we’ll also go visit your grandpa. You like it when we go visit him, right? With auntie Hinata and uncle Ren.”

But Naomi doesn’t stop, showing him again and again that she doesn’t want any of those things—she just wants her father back and that’s it!

…

It would be the first thing Naoya wouldn’t be able to fulfill for his daughter, the same one that provided him with the much-needed reminder that being a parent is more than just giving everything to your children; it’s also preparing them for the surrounding world. Teaching them that some things are simply not meant to be and that it was ok.

While this change was initially painful, for no parent would ever want their child to suffer, as well as difficult because at the end of the day, Naomi was still a child, and thus, struggled to grasp certain subjects…

It was also very gratifying to observe Naomi grow up. See her do things that she couldn’t before, or perhaps never cared about, and help her overcome them. Because it reflected the love and care both had for their small family, and all that was yet to come.

Things that neither could wait to see happen, the realization of the amazing person she was always meant to be and supporting her every step of the way.

Ngl you and naoya were moved that she was that emotional about her father but at the same time you obviously didn't want her to cry. aaaaa parenthood is conflicting, but we love naomi nonetheless.

Thank you so much for sending in this ask!! I love writing about these small moments, it makes their dynamic so much more enjoyable. I hope to get to write about Naomi's first day of school soon!!!

Until then, take care, and hope to see you soon 🥰💖

[samanthacastano02]

Hyunjin - Leave

Hyunjin x FemReader

Warnings: angst, fighting (Non-physical between Hyunjin and Reader), Knife violence, Major Character death (With resuscitation), Saseang, Blood, Description of getting stabbed, Medical inaccuracy, probably more (let me know if I miss any) 

Word Count: 4738

Summary: You get into a fight with Hyunjin, after showing up at his dorm. You had been having a hard time with work, and the hate that you were receiving from a small percentage of fans, you didn’t want to tell Hyunjin and worry him more. But when he gets angry and calls you clingy, leaving you alone in his dorm things take a turn for the worse. 

Photos are not mine, credits go to photographers

Hyunjin and I had been dating for a little over two years and it had been the happiest two years of my life. He was the sweetest and most romantic partner that I could ask for, bringing me flowers randomly, using me as his muse when he felt inspired to paint, and when he was out on tour he would send me photos of things that he saw that reminded him of me. As he and I began dating longer, I got to meet his members and they became like brothers to me. Because Hyunjin lived with Changbin, I grew close with the older boy, he treated me like I was his younger sister. He picked on me but still made sure that Hyunjin was taking care of me and threatened to handle Hyunjin if he wasn’t. 

Around six months ago we decided that we were tired of hiding our relationship from the public so we had spoken to JYP entertainment and their publicist to form a plan to announce our relationship. Most of their fans were extremely supportive and were extremely happy for us, but there were a few who weren’t too happy about it. They didn’t make it known to Hyunjin but they made it very well known on my social media pages, most of the time the comments got buried in the positive comments but sometimes it was hard to ignore them. I didn’t want to tell Hyunjin because I knew that it would worry him. 

The issues had started about three months after we had announced our relationship to the public, there seemed to be one fan in particular that was really unhappy that Hyunjin and I were dating. She had been leaving threats on almost all of my recent posts, threatening that if she ever saw me in person that I should watch my back. It made me anxious but I ignored it because most of the time they were just harmless threats. 

Present: 

It had been a long day at work, my boss had been on my ass for everything. Even stuff that wasn’t in my department, and then getting mad when I couldn’t complete the task. My project partner was no help, spending the entire day on her phone instead of helping get the report finished for our meeting at the end of the week. Hyunjin had been radio silent for the majority of the day, just texting this morning and then nothing. I knew that he was busy recording and getting ready for his next comeback but it would have been nice to hear from him. I knew that he would be home before me tonight which would be nice, because that meant that I would be able to rant about my day to him and get a very needed cuddle session from him. 

The day seemed to drag by at a snail's pace, by the time the end of the day came it was already dark out and the streets were mostly empty. Because my project partner was no help, it took way longer than expected to get the work done which caused me to leave the office at close to 8:30pm, Hyunjin usually drops me off at work but he had left this morning before I had even woke up which left me to ride the bus to work. 

With the project finally in the reviewing stage I could finally go home and relax with Hyunjin. I still hadn’t heard from him but I knew he was at home because he had made it a thing to share each other's location for safety reasons. I made my way out of the office, walking to the bus stop that wasn’t too far from my work. I couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching me, but anytime that I  looked around I couldn’t see any one. I was on edge the entire time while waiting for the bus, constantly looking around trying to see if there was anyone. Finally after around ten minutes of waiting the bus finally arrived, as I got onto the bus I did see a girl around my age get on but I didn’t think anything of it. Not thinking about the fan that had been leaving threats on all of my posts. 

When I finally got off the bus, I noticed that she also got off behind me. I was aware of her, deciding to test a theory to see if she just lived in the same area as me or if she was actually following me. I took the long way to get to Hyunjin and Changbin’s dorm room, which meant taking four right turns. To my horror, she turned every time that I did, I sped up my walk a little bit trying to lose her but any time that I tried to lose her she sped up as well. When I got to his dorm, I rushed up the stairs and entered Hyunjin’s dorm in a panic because she was rushing up the stairs after me. 

“Jinnie, are you home?” I called out into the silent dorm, but I didn’t hear anything back. I thought that maybe he might be in his room painting again with his headphones in. I really just wanted him to hold me and reassure me that everything would be ok. I slipped on the cute bunny house slippers that Jinnie had gotten me for my birthday earlier this year and walked to his room, I couldn’t hear anything. I knocked gently on his door before pushing it open, when it opened I could see that he was in the zone and focused on his painting. I didn't want to bother him so I was just going to lay on his bed.  He must have seen movement out of the corner of his eye because he turned towards me but instead of the usual warmth and love in his eyes, he looked at me with a cold stare.

“What are you doing here?” He asked me coldly. “What do you mean? I usually end up coming over after I get off? Your place is closer to both of our jobs and I wanted to spend time with you?” I say hesitantly.

“It wouldn’t hurt to spend time at your own place, you don’t always have to be here.” “I-I’m sorry. I just wanted to see you, today has been a hard day and I just wanted to cuddle.”

“I get no time to myself y/n, you are always around.” “Hyunjin, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to overstay my welcome here.”

“Can you just go home tonight, I can’t deal with your clinginess.” “I’m being clingy? I’m sorry that I wanted comfort from my boyfriend after my job has been stressful.”

“Your job is stressful? Don’t try to be funny.” “Hyunjin, I’m not joking. Today was really stressful.” “Just go home y/n, I don’t want you here and I especially don’t want to deal with your clingy self.” “I’ll go home after work tomorrow, I just - I don’t feel safe going home tonight.”

“God even when I ask for space you can’t give that to me. If you won’t leave then I will.”

“Hyunjin, please you don’t have to leave. I’ll leave you in your room. I’ll sleep on the couch and then tomorrow after I get off work I’ll go home to my apartment instead of coming here.” “No. I don’t even want to be in the same place as you right now y/n because you can’t respect my wishes and go home tonight.”

“Hyunjin, the reason I don’t want to go home tonight is because I was followed home.”

“If you're going to come up with an excuse, come up with one that is more believable.” “Fine, Hyunjin. I will go home, when Binnie gets here I will ask him to drive me home.”

“Whatever, I’m leaving until then. Have Changbin text me when you leave.”

“What does this mean for us? What’s going to happen to us?”

“Honestly y/n I don’t know and quite frankly I don’t care. You not respecting my wishes to leave is making me really rethink this relationship.”

“O-o-oh, I see.”

“I’m leaving.”

With that he angrily walks out of the dorm, I was in shock. The way that Hyunjin had reacted was not his normal behavior. I sat down on the couch and began to sob. I didn’t know when Changbin was supposed to get here, I didn’t know if Hyunjin would be coming back. Hell I didn’t even know if there was even a relationship between him and I anymore. I was crying so hard that I could barely breathe, sobs racking my chest. It felt like my heart was breaking over and over, I didn’t know how to deal with this pain, I wanted the ground to swallow me and never let me out. I thought that I was going to spend the rest of my life with Hyunjin and now I don’t know what’s going to happen. What I thought was going to be a night of comfort turned into a night of pure heartbreak.

I sat on the couch crying for who knows how long, when I finally heard the door open. I jumped up thinking that it was either Hyunjin or Changbin coming home. I was really hoping that it was Hyunjin because that man was the absolute love of my life, and even if what he said wrecked me I wanted to be with him. But when I got to the front entryway, it wasn’t Hyunjin or Changbin. There in the entryway stood the same girl from earlier, I slid to a stop in pure terror because in her hand was a knife. 

“Who are you? What are you doing here?” “He’s going to be mine. He won't miss you, all I need to do is remove you from the picture entirely.” she sounded crazy, not making any sense.

“You need to leave. This is private property.” “What are you going to do? Call your boyfriend for help? Oh yea, he doesn’t want to talk to you or see you right now.” “I’m calling the police.” I rushed back into the living room, where I left my phone. I can hear the girl rushing after me, just before I can get to my phone she knocks me down, feet away from my phone. I was already tired from the long day of work and the fight with Hyunjin. I tried to fight her off the best that I could, but due to my exhaustion she got the upperhand on me and shoved the knife into my side. The pain was blinding, but I kept trying to fight her off. 

My attacker continued to have the upper hand on me, repeatedly pulling the knife out of me and stabbing me somewhere else in the stomach or side. I tried to fight back but soon the pain and blood loss got too much and I stopped fighting, closing my eyes. She must have thought that she got the job done, because soon she pulled the knife out and stabbed it one last time, just because she could, before pulling it out and rushing out of the apartment leaving me bleeding out on the carpet of Hyunjin and Changbin’s dorm. With a rush of adrenaline I pulled myself the agonizing last few feet to where my phone lay. In my pain-addled brain, I didn’t think to call emergency services, I thought to text Hyunjin one last time. Knowing that there was no way I was going to survive this. I sent this text through siri, not having the strength to lift my arms anymore

To Hyunjinnie: Hyunjin, my love. I love you so much, I’m so sorry. I hope you have the happiest and brightest days my love. I’ll see you again someday. 

Changbin’s POV:

It had been a long day at the studio, I was ready to get back to the dorms and crash for the night but before that I knew that I needed to take y/n home. Hyunjin had texted me a couple hours ago saying that he and y/n had gotten into a fight and she didn’t have a ride home. When I got to the dorms, there was an odd air surrounding the building, it was oddly quiet. When I got up to our floor, our dorm door was already open. I thought it was odd but didn’t think anything of it, maybe in his rush out Hyunjin didn’t shut it all the way. I slipped off my shoes and slipped on my house slippers. I walked into the house looking for y/n so I could see if she’s ready to be taken home to her apartment. But to my horror, I find her lying on the living room floor in a pool of her own blood. I rush to her, dropping to my knees beside her. In my panic I did manage to call emergency services, I knew that I needed to apply pressure to her wounds. 

Her chest was barely rising and falling, I was panicking, I didn’t know what to do. Her eyes weren’t open, and she was losing blood at a rapid pace. Emergency services just told me to keep applying pressure on her wounds until they got here, unless her chest stopped rising. I was praying that her heart didn’t stop, I needed her to be ok. She was like my little sister. I wanted to do everything that I could to protect her, I knew that Hyunjin also loved her and would never forgive himself. 

After what felt like an eternity, the emergency services finally arrived. She was barely alive when they got to her, they rushed to get her on the gurney. As they were rushing out of the dorm, I heard them yell that she was flatlining, I rushed after them. When I came out I saw that one of the paramedics was now kneeling above her on the gurney performing chest compressions while another was putting in a tub so that they could provide air to her. They didn’t stop moving after they got everything into place, just as they shut the doors to the ambulance I heard them say that they got her heart rate back. It was a relief but it was hard to tell if she was going to make it or not. I knew that Hyunjin was with Bang Chan and I.N, I knew that I needed to call them and have them meet me at the hospital. I walked back into the apartment and grabbed my phone, but before I could call Bang Chan the police pulled me aside for questioning. Once I explained all that I knew they allowed me to call Bang Chan finally, he answered on the fourth ring. 

“Chan, are you with Innie and Hyunjin right now?” “Yeah, I am. Why, what’s up?”

“I need you to put me on speaker and then sit down.”

“Changbin, what’s going on?”

“Put me on speaker and then I will explain, ok?” “Alright, give me a second. The boys are playing a game. Can it wait until they are done playing the game?” “Sadly no this can’t.” “Alright.” I can hear him call out to the two boys, after a minute I can hear all three of them sit down.

“Alright Changbin, why’d you want me to get the boys?”

“It has to do with y/n” I say hesitantly.

“Changbin, I don’t want to talk about her.” Hyunjin says, getting angry. “Hyunjin, shut up and listen.” that shuts him up quickly.

“Changbin, what’s going on? Why the short temper?” “I don’t know how to say this.”

“Is something wrong?” Innie asks.

“When I came back from the studio, I found the door to the apartment open. I thought that in his anger, Hyunjin had left it open-”

“I didn’t.” Hyunjin cut me off.

“I know now that you didn’t. But when I walked into the dorm, I um, I found y/n.” I paused, tearing up.

“Found her how?” Chan asked, with a bit of hesitancy in his voice.

“I found her lying on the floor, in a pool of blood.” I finally responded. “What?!” Hyunjin yelled into the phone.

“She had been attacked sometime between when Hyunjin had left and when I came home.”

“Do they know who attacked her?” Chan asked.

“Yes, they do. They are looking for her.”

“Explain what you know, please.” “She had been getting hate and death threats for months, Hyunjin.” “But she never told me?” “She didn’t want to worry you, she knew that you had enough on your plate and didn’t want to add more to your plate.” “S-she should have told me.” “The police said that a sasaeng attacked her, she was stabbed 15 times in the stomach and chest. She was on her way to the hospital around 30 minutes ago, I would have called sooner but I had to talk to the police.” “Innie, get the car. I’m gonna get Hyunjin’s shoes and get him down there. Changbin, we’ll meet you at the hospital.” Chan said as I heard comotion.

Hyunjin’s POV:

I sat on the couch in shock, y/n had been attacked by a crazed fan in my dorm. A place that she should have felt safe in, she wasn’t. What kind of boyfriend was I to let her get attacked by someone who was apparently a fan of ours? Would she ever forgive me for letting this happen to her? She told me that someone followed her, that she didn’t feel safe. And what did I want to do, I wanted to send her home to where she would be alone, where it could have been days before anyone actually went and checked on her. I was moving on autopilot, letting Chan and Innie lead me to the car to drive me to the hospital. I didn’t know what to expect when we got there, I was just in a constant state of shock, what if the last thing she heard me say was that I didn’t even know if I wanted this relationship anymore. How stupid could I have been? Of course I wanted this relationship with her still, hell I wanted to marry her. The reason I had been so stressed recently wasn’t just because of comeback season, but because of the fact that I had been planning to propose to her. But I may have just flushed that down the drain when I called her clingy and told her that I wasn’t sure if I wanted the relationship.

When we got to the hospital, Chan had Innie and I wait while he went to talk to the nurses to see what her condition was like. I couldn’t stop shaking my legs while I waited for him to give us the update, Changbin said that he would be here. But I have no idea where he is, and that makes me slightly worried. When I saw that Chan was walking back towards us, I jumped up and walked towards him. 

“What did they say?” I rushed out.

“She’s up in the icu, only friends and family right now and two people at a time. I’ll walk up with you and meet up with Changbin. Her condition is stable for now.” “I-is she awake?” “I’m sorry Jinnie, I didn’t ask but the nurse did say that we could head up there whenever we are ready. She already let the charge nurse of the icu know that we were coming up.” “Can we please? I don’t think that I’ll be able to relax until I see with my own eyes that she is breathing and that her heart is beating.”

“Yes, we can go up.”

Chan grabs my arm, becoming a support for me as we walk to the elevator and head up to the floor that the icu is on. I didn’t know what to expect when we got to her room, I wasn’t sure if I was ready for it or not to be honest. I waited by the door, not ready to go in yet, scared to see what condition that she would be in. Chan saw that I was hesitating, knowing that I was worried. 

“Hyunjin, do you want me to go in first? Talk to Changbin and see how she’s doing?” “Please? I don’t think I can go in yet.”

“No worries, I got you.” Channie walks into her room to talk to Changbin. 

It wasn’t that long before both Chan and Changbin walked out of her room, Changbin looked like a mess. When he saw me he broke into tears again and immediately ran up to me, hugging me. At that, the dam broke and the tears began to flow. 

“Hyunjin, I’m so sorry. I should have been there sooner, this should have never happened to her.” “Binnie, what are you talking about?” “If I hadn’t worked so late, maybe this wouldn’t have happened.” “Binnie, this isn’t your fault. This is my fault.” “Why is it your fault” “Because, if I hadn’t gotten upset with her then I wouldn’t have left her and that sasaeng wouldn’t have broken in.” “Hyunjin, you can’t blame yourself. Neither of us can blame ourselves for this.” “Go see her, she’s awake. She wants to see you.” Chan interrupts.

I look at Chan and then back to Changbin, they both nod at the fact that she wants to see me and that gives me a little hope that our relationship isn’t completely ruined. I turn towards her door and begin to push the door open, ready to see my beautiful girl. When I finally entered her room, I saw that she was hooked up to an IV and oxygen. When she heard the door open, she turned her attention to me, the smile that lit up her face broke my heart. After everything I couldn’t believe that she was happy to see me.

“You came back! Did you get my text?” 

“Lovie, what text?” “T-the text that I sent earlier tonight. Um r-right after the attack.” “My love I haven’t paid any attention to my phone, I am so sorry.” “Jinnie, I don’t care. I’m just happy that you are here. You're here and that’s all that matters now.”

“I’m not going anywhere now. I will never leave you again. I almost lost you due to my own stupidity and then because of someone who claims to be a fan. But anyone who attacks you and nearly takes you from me isn’t a fan.” “Jinnie, I know we had a fight. What you said hurt a lot. I will try to be less clingy going forward, I don’t want to do anything that could cause me to lose you.” “No no, y/nnie you aren’t clingy. You have never been clingy. I said that in a moment of weakness, and I never ever meant it. Nor did I mean that I didn’t know if I wanted our relationship. I was stressed and I know that’s not an excuse, and I will spend the rest of my life making up for it if you let me?” “Jinnie, what are you asking?”

“Y/n will you marry me. I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you if you’ll let me. I will spend every minute of every day showering you in love, love that you deserve. You mean the world to me. I want you to cling to me, I want you to cling to me for the rest of our lives. Until we are gray, old and wrinkly.” “Jinnie. I-I, god yes I’ll marry you. I love you so much.” She tries to lean into me but cries out in pain. I immediately stop her from trying to lean towards me more. I gently pushed her back into her bed and gave her the kiss that she wanted.

Your POV:

I somehow survived the stabbing and because the sasaeng didn’t wear gloves when she broke in, she left fingerprints on the door and the police were able to find her, sentencing her to prison for attempted murder. Jinnie stayed with me the entire time that I was in the hospital, JYP allowed him to go on a short-term hiatus. I had to be in the hospital for a month, the bed was uncomfortable and the food wasn't very good but he was there with me the entire time. We had both talked to JYP and asked if he and I would be allowed to release a statement during a live about what happened and about the engagement, surprisingly he gave us permission to release it on our time as long as when we did the live a staff member was there with us, in case they needed to step in for any reason. 

Epilogue:

 It was the day that we decided to do the live, to both announce the engagement and the statement about what happened and why Jinnie had to take a hiatus. The staff member actually ended up being a friend of mine, which I found slightly funny. I was still on bed rest so Jinnie had set the phone up on the bed in a way that allowed both him and I to be seen, while I was sitting up with my legs resting in front of me. It was comfortable enough for the duration of the live. 

“Hey guys, it’s amazing to see all of you here. Unfortunately this is going to be a short live. We just wanted to clear the air on some stuff and a small but big announcement.” he read the comments for a little while, letting more fans log onto the live. 

“One of the reasons we wanted to do the live, is because we wanted to explain why Hyunjin went on hiatus for a month and a half. He’s back now but we both thought that you deserved an explanation. And before you guys ask, yes we got permission to tell you.” Hyunjin nodded in confirmation.

“I went on hiatus because y/nnie here was in the hospital and I wanted to be with her, I didn’t want to leave her alone in case she needed me.” he read the comments, reading quietly out loud, asking why I was in the hospital. 

“While Jinnie and Binnie were out of the apartment, someone who was very angry with me broke in and attacked me, stabbing me 15 times. Nearly taking my life, I spent two weeks in intensive care before I was moved down to the main floor of the hospital. I’m ok now, just still on bed rest. Hence the giant pile of pillows behind me, because Jinnie here refused to do the live unless I was extremely comfortable and not in pain.”

“She’s ok, and she will continue to be ok. And I thank god every day for that, because I don’t know what I would have done without her. She is my world, her, the boys, and stay, mean everything to me. Sorry boys if you are watching this, she’s higher on the list.” He teases the camera. I lean over and press a kiss to his cheek.

“The other thing we wanted to tell, stay was that-” Hyunjin cuts me off.

“Wait! I want to tell them.” “Go ahead, love.” I gesture towards the camera.

“I asked y/nnie here to marry me, she said yes. Y/nnie here is now the future Mrs.Hwang, if you are unhappy about it please keep it to yourself.” the staff member clears her throat from behind the camera, Hyunjin smiles unapologetically at the camera.“Thank you, all for the well wishes. For those of you asking if we can give health updates, yes we can. We love you, Stay, so much. Continue to be amazing, until next time.” Hyunjin finishes the live before turning towards the staff member, waiting for her to leave. Once she left, he leaned down to give me a loving kiss, one that had a promise of tomorrow and a promise of happiness. I knew that there would be hardship in the future but I knew that we would be happy

[especiallythewomenandthechildren]

As If Destiny (part five) 🌹

Part Four🌹

Warnings: Terminal illness, parent death, death and brutality (it is the hunger games after all) characters may be ooc. I read the book a while ago but don't really remember much of Snows way of thinking (I mean I know its toxic and insane but yk the other things) so I will mostly be basing off the film and my own thoughts. Also I can't spell for the life of me so be prepared for bad spelling and grammar. Enjoy loves!

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"I do hope you know that if we are even a minute late, I will be serving detention for the rest of the year." 

The slightly anxious tone of Coryo's voice broke you out of your memorized state. You both were in a rush out of his penthouse and you weren't sure how long it would take to get to the academy, but against your best intentions, you had to stop for the flowers.

Something about their white petals and fresh arouma just sucked you in.

With a reluctant sigh, you forced your legs to move.

"But you are the perfect student. You've never been late and every member of the staff loves you."

It was true. There didn't seem to be a single person in the Capital who wasn't charmed with Coriolanus Snow.

But he just shook his head, shifting his eyes forward and quickly pressing the button to allow for pedestrians cross the intersection.

"Everyone but Dean Highbottom."

Oh yes.

He was unfortunately right.

That was indeed the one person who seemed to despise Coryo.

And for seemingly no reason. He always seemed to be able to chide or insult the boy whenever given the chance.

When the signal lit up, the boy in question took your hand to follow him across the street.

"You know, I remember once Highbottom saw us talking after I gave you back your book for Satryia's class. After we parted ways, he pulled me aside and told me to stay away from you. Something about how it didn't end well the first time. Do you have any idea what he was talking about?" 

Still holding your hand, even being far from the dangers of the intersection, the boy turns his head to you. His eyes showed just as much confusion as yours did but with a hint of anger.

Dean Highbottom didn't have to like him but who is he to warn you to stay away from him? And what does he mean the first time? 

The conversation seemed to trail off there but neither of you minded. You didn't come to this part of the Capital very often so you were lost in fascination and wonder. The city was being rebuilt all around you and you couldn't help but feel giddy.

Coriolanus was lost in watching your reactions. He was feeling a sense of pride to know that he was the one who opened this side of the Capital for you. Not to mention the reason you got some proper sleep. 

He was thinking back on your conversation when he nudged your nearby shoulder with his. You looked back to see the tall boy with a little smirk on his lips. You couldn't help but laugh and question the movement. 

"Nothing, it's just nice to know you remembered the book." 

The comment made a pink tint appear on your cheeks, now very visible in the morning light.

"Of course I remember! I'm sure Satryia would have had my head! You were my knight in shining armor."

Then it was your turn to nudge him back. His pride swelled even more at the memory. To know that he was able to give you something that you not only wanted but needed. Even if it was just a lousy textbook.

It made him feel accomplished. 

Within a few strides, the magnificent structure of the Academy came into view and it somehow even looked more beautiful than usual to you.

Everything did after last night.

"Oh! I forgot to give you this!"

He let go of your still clasped hands and grabbed something from his bag. You were surprised by Coryo's confession but even more suprized by the radiant flower in his hand. You couldn't help but gasp at the gesture. You looked up at him with your beautiful eyes, shining up at him with wonder and gratitude. He smiled down at you, heart swelling.

"You seemed so mesmerized so I thought you would like one of your own." 

You took the flower gently and thanked him with the most beautiful smile he has ever received.

He was already scheming of ways to see it more often. 

"Could you put in my hair?"

Then you were blessed with the most beautiful smile you've seen. He happily agreed and put it in the back of your hair, in the hair tie of your half up, half down style.

Something you've never worn before to the academy but something Coryo reassured you looked good.

Once assured the flower wouldn't fall, the tall boy stepped out from behind you with a satisfied smile.

"You know one of these days I'll show you Grandma'am's rose garden. Maybe even get you a bouquet."

He knew the day when he would be able to bring you full bouquets of her precious roses is far away. But maybe after he won the Plinth Prize, he would get his Grandma'am chocolate, Tigris a new dress, and packets of rose seeds.

Enough so everyday he could give you a fresh flower that you would cherish.

His wishful thinking nearly made him miss your response.

"I think I would fall right then and there if you did Coryo."

You looked at him as you confessed but quickly looker away, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. Heat that only grew more intense as Coriolanus's stare did the same.

He didn't know if you meant you would fall is in pass out or fall as in... well fall. for him.

oh as if he needed anymore motivation to win the coveted Plinth Prize. 

Since you never come from this direction, you can't see the usual spot Sejanus would be sitting at when waited for you. Was he getting worried? Your eyes scan the area but couldn't seem to find the brunette anywhere.

But, for better or worse, you found your quite eccentric group of friends.

"Coryo! Y/N!" Clemensia's voice carried through the morning air as you both marched up the stairs.

You both greeted her as well as Arachne, Festus, and Felix upon your arrival. They all seemed happy to see you two (especially you as you are often strolling with Sejanus). But Arachne seemed to be looking you both up and down with a mischievous smirk playing on her colored lips. Nothing new but unnerving nevertheless. 

"Y/N, don't you live on the west side of the city? You always come and leave in that direction."

She looked as if she had caught a lamb for the slaughter. You actually did really like her but the girl has so many problems.

Coriolanus had his mask plastered on again but inside he was beginning to panic. He probably could've made a lie on the spot, a skill he has mastered over the years, but he was worried about your reaction. 

You were a genuine person and he feared that his lie would be completely exposed on your face. But it seemed he was wrong. Instead of freezing up you laughed at Arachne's comment.

"It's beautiful weather this morning and felt in the mood to take a walk around the city. I just happened to meet up with Coryo at the entrance to campus." 

To say the mentioned boy was surprised and relieved would have been an understatement. Not only did you cover up the actual events, you made sure not to let it slip that he walks to the Academy. The illusion that he has a driver like the rest of your peers was still held. Festus then seemed to perk up. 

"I still don't understand why in the world you would decide to walk somewhere. We have drivers for a reason."

The others nodded in agreement and you couldn't but help sigh. You have known your friends since as long as you could remember. You have seen them grow up (or the lack there of).

They are still the small scared children who had to burn their picture books for warmth in the Dark Days. They may have physically aged, but you know they never really grew up. Your peers simply hid their fears and insecurities behind their wealth and luxury.

Anything outside of the opulence that surrounded them brought fear and as a result, a great distaste.

That's why Sejanus was so disliked. He was too much of an irregularity. Too other. 

As he drifted to your mind, your eyes drifted to the other side of the stairs, shifting your neck to try to get a better view. 

"Don't worry, your little side kick is coming up."

Felix let you know with a nod of his head over your shoulder, making you turn around and spotting Sejanus looking confused at you. You smiled in invitation and he began taking a cautious walk up the vast stairs. 

Arachne couldn't help but scoff.

"Wonder what little district boy would do without his precious y/n to hold his hand wherever he goes."

Your mouth opened to shoot back a response when Sejanus gave one of his own. 

"Maybe you will see where it would hit if it wasn't being held."

He even gave a mocking smile to go with it. 

And this is why your two friend groups are separate. 

Before any teeth could be knocked out or venom spit, you were quick to grab his arm and pull him away. You look over your shoulder with a rushed and apologetic farewell to the group.

But your eyes met those ever shining blue orbs and gave a private smile. A smile he couldn't help but return.

"What are you smiling at Snow?"

Festus croked. He had frankly forgotten his friends around him, way too lost on your retreating form. 

"Well that was entertaining if I must say." He covered up his slip.

The look on Arachne's face begged to differ.

But reassurance came in Clemensia's laugh, followed by Felix.

"I would actually like to see what would happen with you and Plinth in a room with no y/n to mediate Crane." Felix seemed quite entertained with the thought. 

The girl just rolled her eyes and began her march into the building, clear irritation radiating off of her.

The rest of the group followed suit and walked into the posh institution.

"Feel bad for whoever unfortunately walks infront of her path" Festus quips, much to the enjoyment and humor of his friends.

The same feeling could not be said for Sejanus.

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"So how worried should I be?" Sejanus's warm brown eyes bore into yours. You crooked your head to its side in confusion.

"Care to explain Sej?" 

"I think I'm the one who needs an explanation y/n. You never came to our spot and you were instead with them."

He spit out the word as if it was acid.

"Not to mention the fact that we got a call from your father thanking us for letting you stay with us last night. Would you care to enlighten me how I either missed your presence the entire night, morning, and ride here or where you actually were."

His tone was harsh but you knew it came from a place of worry. He knew of your sleepless habits and to be informed that you were supposed to be with him but weren't must have been horrifying. 

You weren't sure if you should tell him the whole truth about staying with Coriolanus. So you tell him the same thing you told Rhayes, your driver, last night.

"I was with a friend. I'm sorry I worried you Sejanus. I had no idea he called you and made you worry." 

He looked at you with a puzzled and slight irritated expression.

"What friend y/n? And if you couldn't stay at your house, you know our door is always open."

You weren't exactly sure why he was so upset at the situation but you felt he deserved some semblance of an answer. 

"You guys do enough for me as it is. No- stop don't even try to argue with me on this. Can - can we just drop this?" You sighed, clearly not wanting to continue on this topic.

Sejanus looked the exact opposite, wanting to flesh out every detail. But he noticed your discomfort and let the conversation end there. 

You both had been walking around the halls, him not really realizing the path you were taking untill you came to a stop and began looking through your bag.

The kind boy, for what seemed the first time that morning, took in your appearance. 

"You look well rested. Back to life." He says it astonished. You couldn't help but roll your eyes. 

"I know! Weird seeing me look like an actual person instead of zombie." You were expecting a witty remark back but you were met with another amazed observation. 

"You kept your hair down. And look it has a flower!"

You laughed at his behavior and found your mass pile of somehow pristine papers. You flipped through the pages with apprehension at your work.

"And you finished your paper! What happened to you last night?!"

He just seemed to keep on getting more and more lost. Your smile grew in amusement of his reaction and you both walked into class. Sejanus made his way up to your elevated section of desks while you made your way to your Professor.

Professor Rhaen was a tall and lengthy man who seems more aged than any person of his middle age should be. His pale skin seemed sickly and was scattered with small marks and freckles.

He was bent over his desk, deep into a thick book. You cleared your throat and his eyes snapped up to your slightly timid figure.

"Good morning Professor. I understand that you gave us an extended amount of time for our paper to ensure we properly research. But I fear I got too carried away and seemed to have finished a bit early."

You held up your own thick stack of papers with a humble smile. The man didn't take your papers right away, leaving your hand hanging while he was analyzing.

After a few painfully akward moments, he finally took the stack from your hands. You were going to make your way to seat before he motioned for you to wait.

He was scanning through as you just stood there, in the front of the room and felt quite small. You looked up towards the direction of your desk and saw Sejanus give you a smile and a thumbs up in encouragement.

You smiled back, with a little more reassurance and turned to your professor who seemed to be very focused. The sounds of your classmates coming in was heard as their gazes were felt.

Forever seemed to pass before Professor Rhaen gave you the go ahead to sit down. You gave a giddy sigh of relief before you were stopped by his voice.

"Y/n!" You turned slowly and slightly reluctantly. "

From what I've seen so far, I think I will be nothing less than impressed."

What.

Professor Rhaen does not give compliments. You felt over the moon but gave a polite nod and rushed to your desk.

You didn't realize that Coriolanus and the others had made it to class until you reached the area of your desk. You had to squeeze past the blonde boy and as soon as you sat down, you had to turn behind you.

"Wait you already finished your paper?"

Clemmies pretty face was contorted in baffelment. You just smiled and shrugged. The scoffs of impresment (and intimidation) of Felix, Festus, and Arachne were quite audible even as you turned around.

Sejanus took in your interaction and noticed how neither Clemensia nor Arachne knew of your progress. Something they clearly would have if you stayed at their penthouses last night.

But what was even more puzzling was your shared look with Coriolanus who seemed to have a bit of a smug and proud smile on his face.

Like he knew. 

Any questions were caught off by the scratchy voice of the professor. His lecture was not necessarily interesting, but today for the first time in a long time, you were able to be fully focused.

You followed every word and participated whenever you could. You were so engaged with the lesson that you barely realized the pen that landed by your shoes.

Grabbing it in a swift motion, you looked up to see Coriolanus with a smug smirk.

Oh that little-

"See what happens when you get a proper sleep." He teased you, slightly crouched, mirroring your position. 

You gave a soft scoff at his comment which only made his expression grow.

"A night of good rest, a compliment from Rhaen, and an intimated Arachne? You're on fire y/n." He whispered. 

"Trying to suck up to the new favorite student Snow?" You teased back.

The close proximity of your position allowing for the heat of your breath to be felt on the boys cheeks.

That's the reason for the red on it right? 

His devious smirk only expanded, showing a few of his perfect and pearly white teeth. He opened his mouth to fire back his own witty response before he was cut off by a clearly displeased Dean Casca Highbottom. 

"Miss Vaun and Mr. Snow."

It seemed that even having the two of your names in the same sentence drained him off all his energy.

"Why am I not surprised. Well whatever it is that you two were discussing, I hope it was more important than your professor's lecture." 

The embarrassment of the public scolding and the silence of the room was suffocating.

And he knew it.

He seemed to relish in your discomfort and Coriolanus's annoyance. 

His eyes seemed to be coated with a fog as he was lost to his mind and whatever he was thinking. The realization of reality and his intention of the interruption seemed to bring him back to reality. 

"Please pack up your things Miss y/n. It is urgent."

Your reaction to his words was panic.

Absolute panic.

Emotion you had to swallow, even as your breathing accelerated. You were shaking as you basically threw your material in your bag, with no care of the impact.

Dean Highbottom had already left the room and was waiting in the hallway by the time you met up with him. You felt nauseous and walked on heavy feet.

Coriolanus could see the unsteady steps you took and wanted nothing more than steady you.

But he could do nothing.

And that's the part he hated most.

He sighed and tried to focus back on the lecture and the notes he was supposed to take. Then he realized you must have taken his pen by accident. 

And he was right but you weren't really conscious as you twirled that very same pen in you hands in apprehension.

Something happened to her.

That happened to her.

You both reached the main office and you hoped that all your fears would be resolved. But you looked up to see your father in a state of varying levels of dishevelment. He looked pale, starved, and hollow.

But worst of all were the tears in his eyes and clear stains on his cheek. No.

No. 

You felt the world shrink around you as he opened up his palm to reveal a beautiful golden necklace. A necklace that held two rings.

The same necklace that your mother wore without fail.

The one she swore she would never take off till death did her part.

Till death do you part.

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A/N: another part down! I hope you all liked it! I was scared of how it was gonna turn out at first but kinda liked it. I hope you guys saw the desk scene as I imagined it (both you and coryo kinda crouched and close as you whispered). I imagined it as if it was a movie and the shot would be showing your side profiles as you talked in those fancy curved desk things in the movie. Also if things don't make sense, I'm sorry it's 1 am and I have been working on it for hours and I'm sleepy lol! Much love as always!

@notyourwildestdream 🌹@darktrashsoulbear🌹@fantasylovestoryme 🌹@nekee-lilac02 🌹@a-avengerparker🌹 @queenofshinigamis 🌹

[skyfallscotland]

Hi! I'm Amy (She/Her)

I write fanfic, which you probably already know if you came here from my AO3 page (where I go by hurricane).

Currently I'm writing for Fourth Wing.

My favourite colour is green, I love Taylor Swift and Fall Out Boy, and I hate spicy food (but love spicy books).

Below you'll find links to my work/fandom masterposts & some FAQ

✧ Fandoms/Works

Fourth Wing

ACOTAR

✧ FAQ

Do you have an update schedule?

Not really. Sometimes it's once a week, sometimes twice, sometimes not for weeks (though I try to only do that in between projects), it really depends on the hyperfixation.

How do you write so much?

I get super anxious about starting things and not finishing them (and then having people asking me about them) so I try to write ahead before posting, so it isn't always in real time. I do however write on average (based on year to date) 2.5k words a day, which I guess is a lot for most people? The simple answer is I don't work full time and I try to write everyday.

What's your writing process?

I prefer writing either in the morning or later at night. I always write in bed, propped up against the headboard. Sometimes if I'm home alone I'll venture out to the kitchen and feel supremely uncomfortable for no reason, so I quickly return to my low-lit cave.

I just write what I'm inspired to write when I'm inspired to write it. I've learned not to force it, that just makes writer's block worse!

Do you have any writing advice?

I do! I get asked this a lot, so I wrote a masterpost: Part One—the advice & Part Two—the resources

Can I bind your fic?

At the moment my stance on fic binding is that it’s fine if it’s only for personal use and not for sale, profit, distribution or commission. Please don’t use commercial companies like print houses (due to legal issues). I feel very strongly about fanworks being and remaining free, and the way fic-binding has been commodified recently worries me 💖

Do you allow translations of your work?

You’re bilingual, that’s so cool! I appreciate you asking 💗 I believe in fanfiction being accessible to everyone. I would request however at this time that any translations of my work be kept on AO3—there’s a checkbox you can tick to link it as a translation.

Can I use a scenario in your fic for my own or write something inspired by your fic?

Mostly, yeah. See my in-depth answer/thoughts on this here.

Can I use your characters for a fic of my own?

I respectfully ask you not to at this time. All my original characters from my series' are very close to my heart, especially Remi (the one people ask about the most) and their stories are not yet finished! So there's more you guys don't know about them. At the moment, I'm a bit sensitive about it and I'd like to keep them close. If you do still write something inspired by them, it's also highly likely I won't read it, at least until I'm finished the series. Thanks for understanding.

What else are you working on?

I have a dozen fic ideas for Fourth Wing, at least four of which I've already written bits and pieces of while working on Basgiath (Remi's Version). I don't run on any kind of schedule though, they'll see the light of day when they do and if they don't, then they won't!

I also have two original novels I'm writing, one of which I hope to finish in the next couple of months (it's in the plotting stage!) 🥰

Will you ever come back to ACOTAR?

I plan to at some point, hopefully this year! I just want to get through some of these Fourth Wing ideas while I'm still inspired and eventually I'll come back to write Callie's story and maybe some Feysand, or an Eris fic. It's tough because I've been writing that series in third and my FW works have me in first person mode. I find it very hard to switch between them.

Do you have any fic recs?

I do! Only for Fourth Wing at the moment, you can see them all here. I'm slowly adding to the list/collection 🌟

Where do you get your dividers?

They're mostly all @saradika-graphics 🖤

[monalaniussboyfriend]

BILL COLLINS TIMELINE B4 HELL (ALL OPINIONATED/HEADCANONS!)

(MAJOR SPOILERS BELOW!)

- Undiagnosed psychopath, started having violent urges, slowly stopped feeling empathy during childhood and they only got worse with time.

- Has slight trichotillomania, it got worse over time. He pulls and tugs at his hair, but never really actually rips it out until he’s stressed (or until he met Mona)

- Refused to get help as he got older (and as he got worse) because he didn’t want to seen weaker than other men, so he bottled it all up. (and ripped his hair out)

- He thought becoming a cop and starting a family would “make them go away.” (Spoiler! That only made it worse!)

- One of the other reasons he became a cop was to be able to take out his violent urges on criminals, but where he lived there was a low crime rate; This heightened his stress and worry about hurting people he “cared” about (Again, he felt zero empathy towards those who didnt understand him, but tried to convince himself otherwise.)

- He would often take nightshifts at the station to journal out his frustrations while sitting at his desk. These nightshifts would mean that he’d sleep all day until his family came home (His eldest would go to school, while his wife and two month old would go to mother/daughter clubs with her friends)

- His nightshifts would also cause a LOT of issues in his relationship.

- Once he started the job, he began locking himself in the attic, journalling his thoughts and urges because it started weighing on him. Journalling helped both him and Mona.

- Mona stalked him and his family for a while, but specifically Bill.

- She noticed Bill had been violently scribbling into a journal while he was at work one night, so she took it upon herself to find out whatever was happening with him. She wanted to know a weak spot.

(Off topic Mona headcanon. She was looking for a partner in crime for a bit before meeting Bill. She would break into people’s houses and threaten them. It would be like; “Work with me, or I’ll kill you.” and so far everyone chose to be killed!)

- That early morning, she broke into his house, not knowing he was on his way home early (The house is usually empty from 7am til 9am). He just got off a nightshift as she scrambled into the attic and read his journals. The same journals that he wrote about his yearning for an outlet to vent out his urges.

- She had found it, his weak spot.

- As she was leaving, she met a very frustrated Bill. Immediately, he wanted to attack but she held him off.

- “So…a little birdie told me you needed an outlet, hm? I can be that outlet, Bill.” (Pro manipulation 101)

- He agreed, hesitantly and mostly without question.

- This is where he started his killing spree alongside Mona. He finally found his outlet. Someone, someone who understands him.

- He quickly started to gain feelings for Mona, making it easier for her to control him.

- Just because he felt euphoric doesn’t mean he didn’t feel anxious.

- He faked his death solely because he was afraid of getting caught, and Mona wanted him as a constant meat shield, just in case.

- At first, he refused to kill his family, he compromised with Mona and made a deal with her. He would continue to pose as a cop and turn in her self portrait to make him seem like he was about to be a victim of these killers too. (She knew he wouldn’t be able to keep his composure any longer.) When he turned it in, he was off the suspect list.

- Remember when I said that his nightshifts would fuck with his relationship? Well, he would often skip nightshifts to go out with Mona and asked Ian Ford to cover for him. One night, his wife called the station and asked if Bill was there, and Ian was 100% honest with her.

- That honesty ended everything for Bill. Once he got home, his wife was standing at the door with that stern expression that all wives have when they suspect an affair.

- The questioning quickly turned into a fight, which Bill got very psychical in.

- This fight ended up triggering an extremely violent psychotic episode, in which he brutally slaughtered his entire family.

- Mona arrived a few hours after, when Bill was supposed to be home alone. She helped him clean up the mess and put everything in elaborate spots. (Praised him for giving in as well.)

- That was when Bill couldn’t take it anymore. He started to lose himself in his delusions. In the delusions that Mona had set for him.

- He carefully ripped his own face off and disinfected it, (with drugs ofc) leaving him able to live without a face. He started wearing masks of victims.

- He left his “original” face at the lighthouse so they would assume that Bill was dead, along with the rest of his family. (Which worked!)

- He slowly started to succumb to Mona’s manipulation, becoming a pet to her. He loved her He had truly thought that someone understood him, but she was just using him as an assistant.

[doobnnoob-tf2]

How do you think the mercs act when they're drunk?

Scout: No one knew it was possible, but even more obnoxious than before. Louder than before. More stupid than before. He laughs at anything when he's drunk. He talks to everyone about everything in nothing more than partial sentence rambles. He grabs people to try and pull them along into whatever horrible plan he's come up with. But the team is thankful because he's a lightweight and will black out soon enough and then someone (mostly Spy) will drag him off to his room to let him sleep

Soldier: He usually only drinks beer, and never to the point he's drunk. If he's getting drunk, the team can usually tell how he's feeling depending on what he's drinking. And that'll determine how he is when he's drunk. Sometimes he's simply irritable and wants to be left alone, sometimes he's eerily quiet and wants to just sit outside and stare out into the desert, sometimes he's having a great time and there's not a single thing alive that'll stop him from jumping off the very top of the base into the above-ground pool set up below

Pyro: They simply don't drink. They don't like the way it tastes and it makes them anxious more than anything

Demoman: The real question is: what is he like when he's sober. And the answer is, he's usually sober because he's upset over something. When he wants his mind clear of anything so he can think and probably end up spiraling mentally. He's a functioning alcoholic, no one knows his reasons why but the team doesn't mind because he can do his job and it makes him happy

Heavy: He doesn't usually get drunk since it takes a lot for him to in the first place. But when he does, he'll sit in the middle of a crowd and loudly tell stories about his time growing up in the middle of the Siberian wasteland. The only problem is it's all in Russian, and there probably isn't many people around that can understand him but it's fine because they're listening anyway

Engineer: He usually wakes up the next morning to his workshop a wreck. And some abomination of a science project sitting in the middle of it all. He never can figure out how it works or what it's supposed to do. And then he's just miffed because his drunk self wasted blueprints to scribble on like a toddler. Drunk engineering isn't as fun as it sounds, even if it was fun in the moment

Medic: He comes up with his worst experiments when drunk. Not worse as in shock and horror. Just bad ideas. Wondering what it would be like to cut someone open and do nothing more than place a brick inside them, levels of bad. The only good thing is when he goes to write them down he never can read his own handwriting. And that's only half the time. The other half, he's clinging to whoever he deems is his best friend for the night (mostly Heavy) and can only speak in slurred German as loudly as he can directly into his ear

Sniper: It's surprisingly hard to get him drunk, not that he ever enjoys getting past blissfully buzzed anyway. When he gets drunk, he gets ballsy. Someone could mention the dumbest idea every that would certainly get the person hurt if they attempted it.. and he'd do it. He also really enjoys getting into barfights when he's drunk and the complains the next day when everything hurts (he says it was worth it)

Spy: He will do everything he can to never get drunk. He claims it's because he hates the feeling, but the truth is he knows he gets talkative. Very talkative. Sometimes if he's lucky, in a language the person he's talking at won't understand. But that's not a gamble he's willing to take. The only times so far he's ever gotten that drunk while around anyone on the team was with Sniper, who thankfully has never told a soul anything Spy has drunkenly uttered to him

[unabashegirl]

Enticing 30 (HS)

Summary: Harry is a young billionaire and CEO of his own company. He mostly keeps to himself, he is stern and very meticulous when it comes to business. He also likes to keep his personal life very private for the sake of his newly born son Oliver Styles. It isn't until he meets Y/N Y/L/N that everything changes. She becomes his new nanny after his previous one quits due to personal reasons. She is young, caring, and sweet. Will they ignore their feelings? Will Harry's girlfriend accept their love and leave them? Will she be able to cope with his busy agenda? What about Oliver's mother? Where is she? Who is she?

Words: 1.5K

masterlist

For the last time, Y/N looked at herself in the mirror. She ran her fingers through her hair and made sure that nothing was sticking out. She exhaled loudly and pulled down on her button-down shirt. Y/N just prayed that she didn’t spill anything down her white shirt.

“You look great. Let’s go, or you are going to be late” Patrick said as he walked into her bedroom.

“You look stunning,” Elizabeth told her as soon as she walked out into the living room. “Very professional. Here, I packed you both some coffee and some snacks”.

“Thanks. What are you going to be doing today?” Y/N asked her mother. It had been incredibly fun. She had been an incredible support to her. They had gone to the doctor, and everything had been checked out. Y/N was four weeks along. She was healthy, and everything looked just fine. Y/N was very nervous, but her mother made her feel secure.

Unfortunately, it was Elizabeth’s last day in the city. Violet was waiting and expected her to return promptly. Elizabeth also knew that it was a bad idea to leave Violet alone for so long. She just wanted to be around for Y/N's first day of work.

“I might go out and do a little shopping” Elizabeth was planning on buying a few items for her first grandbaby. She knew that with Y/N’s new job, she would probably need any financial help, but she wanted to gift the baby its first item of clothing.

“What are you getting?”

“Nothing” She smiled and tried to hide her excitement. Y/N and Patrick could tell that she was buying something for the baby. They looked at each other and smiled. “Anyway! It’s getting late! Go on!” Elizabeth urged them out the door. “Have a great day, sweetie”. She waved.

“Oh, God! I am nauseous” Y/N said to Patrick as they stood outside the big building. Patrick turned to face her.

“You are perfect for the job, and you are more than capable” Patrick threw his arms around Y/N and hugged her tightly. He knew how terrified she was and all the challenges that were coming her way.  He wanted to transmit to her the confidence and the support that she had given him.

“Thank you” Y/N felt like crying, and she wasn’t sure if it was because of the hormones or because she was very anxious. Suddenly, she wanted to run home and hide. “I think I’ll be alright,” she said just after exhaling heavily.

“Alright. I’ll meet you out here for lunch. Text me” Patrick slid her purse over her shoulder and handed her the bag that held some snacks that Elizabeth had packed for her. She kissed her forehead and allowed her to enter the building.

“Good morning. My name is Y/N Y/L/N. It’s my first day, and I was told to ask for William” Y/N said to the secretary that sat behind the desk. It reminded her of the day that she had gone to Harry’s office. She just hoped that things would be smoother than before.

“Ms. Y/L/N! We have been waiting for you! Let me give you access to the presidential floor.” The woman kindly said she was younger than Y/N. She could tell that she was still in college or straight out of it. “My name is Mia” She shared after they had gotten into the elevator and the doors had closed.

“It’s nice to meet you!” Y/N smiled, “Tell me. Should I be warned of something?” Mia laughed and shook her head immediately.

“Honestly? This is the nicest company that I have ever worked for. Mr. William is genuinely delightful and very accommodating. Don’t be fooled by his perpetual silence.” She had started working a few months before graduating from college. William had personally interviewed her and had asked for her class schedule. He made sure that her work didn’t interrupt her schooling. He also made sure that the job was going to continue being hers even after giving her a week off to celebrate her graduation with her family. For that, Mia was eternally grateful.  “It’s very exciting to have a woman in a predominantly male-dominated job It’s very inspiring.” Y/N smiled at Mia. She could tell that they would be friends. She was obviously younger than her, but she didn’t mind.

The elevator finally arrived at the top floor. The view was stunning. It had tall ceilings. The furniture was upholstered with different tones of gray fabric. A huge book self-decorated the corridor that led to a double-door office.

“There you are” William startled her as she looked at the paintings that decorated the foyer of the floor. He smiled at her as he walked down the corridor. “As always you look great” He smiled and kissed her cheek.

“How’ve you been?” He looked like he always did. He looked very sharp and clean. Out of all four men, he was the most peculiar about his things. William lived his life by following a schedule. He had issues when things were done unexpectedly or out of the blue.

“Good. Better now that you are here. Let’s go into my office. Would you like something to drink?” He offered to which Y/N declined. William led her to his office. “How are you feeling?”

Y/N exhaled loudly and allowed her body to relax as soon as the door was closed. She felt comfortable with William. She had shared a house with him for a month when they had gone to Italy. She considered him Harry’s brother.

“Very nervous and anxious. What if I am not enough?” William chuckled and pulled out a folder that held her contract and other files she needed to sign. “This would be my first job as a data analyst, William. I mean I’m grateful for the opportunity, but I am going to need guidance” She shared.

“That’s fine, Y/N. I don’t expect you to arrive as a senior analyst. I have assigned someone to help you for the first month” William was relieved that she had taken the job. “I am simply happy you accepted the offer. I needed to fill that place and what better option than hiring a close friend” He smiled. “Things have been rough lately” he admitted.

“Oh yeah?” He raised an eyebrow at her. William had set out the bait. He just required her to bite and ask. It was silent for a few minutes. William could tell that she was in deep thought and having an internal discussion with herself. “And how is he?” Y/N finally asked.

William didn’t know where he should start. So many things had happened. He was barely unrecognizable. Everyone had suffered after she had left him that day.

“Terrible. He doesn’t sleep and he doesn’t eat. He just works like a machine. His temper is shorter than usual. And let’s not talk about the drinking” William had gone to his apartment just to give him some advice. The men had planned a trip to leave upstate just so he could get some fresh air, but Harry refused profoundly. He had kicked him out of the house. “I have never seen like this, Y/N. I know that you don’t want to hear it, but couldn’t you just talk to him?”. William had never reached out to any of his friend's ex.  He found it inappropriate and distasteful. However, things were different this time. Harry was struggling severely, and William needed to help him. He was someone far from what he remembered.

“Please don’t — “She stopped herself just as the knot in her throat grew. Y/N quiet down before her voice cracked and she started crying. “How can you ask me that?” Y/N whispered; she looked down at the words typed on the contract. She could barely make out the words because of the tears. They made the writing blurry. “He doesn’t care about me”.

“Y/N. He is the one who called me and asked me to reassure him that your job was still available even though both of you had broken up” William admitted to her. “He was very insistent”. He added.

Y/N was quiet. She wiped the tears, trying to impede them from falling and wetting the documents.

“I can’t William. I will be forever grateful to him for helping me to get this opportunity, but I can’t. I can’t do this right now. I am not ready yet” She missed him terribly, but she knew that it entailed contacting him. She would need to tell him that she was pregnant with his baby, but she wasn’t ready. At least not yet. 

TAGLIST: @0oolookitsme, @happycupcakeenthusiast, @kennedywxlsh, @hsfics, @stylesbrock, @cuddlingwithharry, @sucker4angstt, @bluemoonedwings, @cherriesrae, @vornilla, @mellamolayla, @harryscurls21, @stilesissaved, @be-with-me-so-happily, @harryssattelitestomper, @jerseygirlinca, @tenaciousperfectionunknown, @lomlolivia, @stylesfever, @daphnesutton, @n0vaj3an

[professional-demon-master]

Cutting you off 6

Beelzebub

Light angst/ comfort. Good ending !! GN reader (if I make a mistake, please let me know!) Beelzebub x MC

- Beel and Belphie were sometimes one and the same.

- Beel would feel sleepy if Belphie didn’t take his third morning nap, Belphie would get reflux if Beel ate too much spicy food and they both would get cranky if they spent too much time apart.

- But the length of their relationship didn’t stopped there.

- Being twins, they spent most of their time together, sharing a room just reinforced that.

- This gave them plenty of time to express their feelings, thoughts and ideas to the other. Like when Beel talked about his idea of a new sandwich with 205 ingredients or when Belphie would talk about why taking a nap during class should be considered a learning technique.

- This also meant Belphie spent a lot of time unpacking his feelings with Beel.

- They would often talk about what problems they got into with Lucifer, their new shenanigans and, almost inevitably, about their time at the celestial realm. Which would often bring the Lilith topic back into focus.

- What would begin as a soft and melancholic conversation about their fondest memories, more often than not ended with Belphie dumping every awful thought he had about humans.

- And after a Millenia of hearing him, Beel stopped trying to get some reason into Belphie and started questioning himself.

- What if Belphie was right? What if humans actually were malicious creatures? What if they were the ones to blame for what happened to Lilith?

- Beel never talked about it with anyone else, though. He knew what everybody else thought about Belphegor's beliefs.

- And then, the exchange program happened.

- Beel was extremely anxious. Clearly they sent Belphie away for his conflicted, and very clear, feelings concerning humans. And now some human was gonna be entering his life? Sleeping at his home, eating in his house and just…living with him.

- When you arrived he was a little bit confused, though. He never actually went to the human realm unless he was being dragged by Lucifer or any other of his brothers, and when that happened he restrained from meeting humans, so, most of his knowledge of humans was given by the things he would listen, mostly from Belphie.

- So now, seeing you, was confusing. You didn’t looked like the type of being that would hypnotize him to do as you wanted, or the kind of being that was hateful and disgusting.

- You looked… adorable. You had a confusing face, you looked soft and almost emotional looking everywhere while Diavolo and Lucifer explained what you were doing there. He wasn’t sure you were the type of being Belphie spent so many nights cursing and talking back about.

- But, what if this was part of your plan? You wanted to look as innocent as possible to trick him! Surely that was it!

- So for the first weeks he tried to stay as away from you as possible. Mammon was the one in charge of looking out for you, so he didn’t actually needed to be around you.

- But still, has time passed, he started feeling different about humans.

- He watched you many times from afar and you didn’t seemed like an evil being. He would watch you talk with his brothers, trying to befriend them, having a hard time adjusting at the academy and still, having a smile on your face whenever you were out.

- That made it harder for him to keep his distance from you. You tried several times to talk to him, to get a conversation going or to even get a glance from him.

- You would compliment his way of playing fangol, his hair and the way he cooked dinner that day, without getting much more in response than a shy “thanks”. You tried sharing food with him during lunch so you could talk, but he would just take the food as fast as he could and say he needed to be somewhere else.

- Then the whole kitchen incident happened, and Beelzebub HAD to spend time with you, without being able to escape you this time.

- After the whole nightmare talk and sharing words of reassurance with him, you really thought you were making progress, probably even becoming friends. Hell, he even made a pact with you!

- But as soon as you went back to your room, he went back to being completely distant from you.

- After a while you desisted, convinced that Beel didn’t liked you and that despite your efforts, a friendship wasn’t gonna flourish.

- Beel started feeling guilty, but tried to make himself believe that it was all for Belphegor, he was the one who warned him about humans, and why would he lie?

- And despite him being convinced this was how it was gonna work until the end of the exchange program, everything changed after you freed Belphegor.

- He didn’t actually had time to process his feelings while it was all happening, all he knew was that he was now grateful you were there, grateful you freed Belphegor and grateful he made a pact with you.

- But it wasn’t after you died, and came back, that he realized how much he started caring about you.

- You were a good person! Belphegor was completely wrong about humans!

- Even after you were safe and sound, and everyone apologized to you, he kept on feeling guilty. He had avoided you and treated you wrong for so long, without any good reason other than him believing Belphie's stories about humans.

- During a night talk were he unloaded his feelings with Belphie, Belphegor did accept his mistake. “I was wrong. Maybe not all humans were so bad after all” was all he had said before falling asleep.

- But sleep didn’t came for Beelzebub for a long time, and during all that tossing and turning in his bed, he realized one thing: he had to make it right with you.

- The next morning he tried, he really tried to gather up courage and talk with you just like his brothers did, but he kept on choking in his words when he noticed how distant you were from him.

- And who could blame you? He was the one who avoided you for your whole stay there.

- Beelzebub couldn’t help feeling bad when he noticed how everytime he entered a room, you didn’t even acknowledge his presence. Or how when you had the same classes, you avoided sitting next to him. Or worse of all, when you didn’t even comment on his cooking anymore!

- He tried really hard to keep his spirits up though. He would invite you to his fangol games or ask you yo sit next to him in class.

- “Sorry Beelzebub, already have plans with Solomon on Friday afternoon, maybe next game”, “Sorry Beelzebub, I already started working on this project with another demon”, “Sorry Beel, I’m gonna eat lunch with the angels today”

- Sorry sorry sorry sorry

- It wasn’t your fault, he knew this was all his own making, but couldn’t help the feeling of rejection that started in his mouth and made his stomach hurt, it made food taste bad.

- After two weeks of trying and when he was about to give up, he saw his big opportunity. A new pastry shop opened in Devildom! Of course it would be a good excuse to ask you to go out with him, he was the avatar of gluttony after all!

- After a whole day of gathering enough courage, he decided to ask you next morning, since you had the same first class and it was his time of walking you to school.

- The morning was quiet, too quiet, it made him feel nervous. We’re your walks to school always this quite? He never actually noticed before.

“So, uhm, MC” Beelzebub started, both of his hands grabbing the straps of his backpack. “You… like pastries?” What a dumb question, she obviously does! She always asks Luke for his special sweets after all.

You turned your head, a little smile and furrowed brows were plaster in your face, “Yeah, I do”, was all that left your mouth before you turned to look back at the street. “There’s a new pastries' store in town. It’s suppose to be really good”, “really? Sounds interesting”, “I was thinking you and I could check it out, after class. Just if you don’t have any other plans, of course” Beel could feel his palms getting sweaty, the fear of rejection planted in his head. “Oh…” Beel felt his stomach drop as soon as that sound came out in your voice, “Are you sure about that? You can always go with Belphegor, or Asmo, he likes taking pictures of cute desserts” “no!” Beel stopped abruptly, making you do the same, “I mean, that’s nice, but I really would like to spend some time with you”

You exhaled, both hands at your sides and eyes gazing everywhere, except at Beelzebub's stare. “You don’t have to do this, Beel”. Beel's anxiousness turned to confusion, “what do you mean by that?” “Pretending you like me, you really don’t have to do it, we’re okay”, “MC, I don’t understand, why would I pretend to like you?” “Beel, come on. Before everything happened, you could barely be in the same room as me for more than 10 minutes, and now you suddenly want to spend time with me? Right after I rescued Belphegor?” He gave you a puzzled look as you explained “I connected the dots. Really, you don’t have to do this, I was helping Belphie out because I wanted to, you don’t owe me anything”, and with that you turned in your heels, in hopes of getting back on your way to RAD, but a sudden hand on your elbow stopped you. “No, you got it all wrong MC, and it’s my fault”, Beel spoke quietly, you kept your gaze on him, signaling him to continue.

“I don’t want to spend time with you as a way of repaying you, I just wanted to make up for my past actions”, this time you gave him a puzzled expression, your body turned to him to pay close attention to him. “ and I did avoid you at the beginning, but that wasn’t exactly your fault. I just… I spent so much time hearing Belphie talk about how humans were to blame for what happened to Lilith that I think I just internalized it as of it was my own ideology, and you coming here, being nothing but good with us just, made me feel uncomfortable, I guess. You made me realize that what I believed was completely wrong, and that was hard. Belphie is the smartest one between of us two after all” you laughed at that remark, “I’m just so sorry. I know I wasn’t the best at the beginning, but I do like being with you, MC, and I wanna make it right, if you want to, of course.” His gaze softened, “I’ve already missed most of your time here, I would hate to not make emends before your time here runs out”.

You looked at Beel’s violet eyes, nothing but pure sincerity and regret were shown. “It’s going to take a lot of time to work on our relationship Beel” you could notice the sudden change of emotions, brows furrowed in a sad tone. “But I think that a café visit is a great start”.

You could practically see the light in his eyes sparkle after you accepted his invitation. A smile painted both your faces, “we should get to RAD soon though, Lucifer will make sure to keep us occupied with a punishment if we miss first period.

“Oh, yeah, I forgot about that” Beel’s cheeks turned to a pink undertone while he let go of your arm and started walking by your side again, mood completely changed, happiness radiating from both of you.

- You sighed, looking at Beel while he started talking about everything he wanted to order at the cafe when you get there. “Of course he turns into a sunshine just like that. He’s practically a puppy”

Hope you guys liked it! I did took a different approach with this one bc I found hard to believe that Beel would actually hurt you consciously.