#I can't express how much fun I had writing this.

[girlwith15cents]

Oversharing on the internet about ADHD

I've been trying to write this post for awhile now. It relates to my previous post about mental disabilities. But it's proving difficult cause it keeps sounding too pathetic, but that's kinda the point.

I, in my present, have an idea of who I am. My interests, how I act, how I dress, who I associate with, my gender expression. These are all observable things. Ways that other people can form opinions on me. These are, by most means, who I am.

However, who I want to be is pretty drastically separate from that. I know a version of me that I can try and project but will always fall short of. I want to learn and enjoy makeup. I want a larger wardrobe of clothes that I genuinely like. I want to learn an instrument. I want to get into streaming games for fun. I want to be able to take my friends out to dinner and buy them gifts and go around the city with them. I have so many ideas for tattoos and I have piercings I want to get. There are so many things I want and yet cannot have and have no real avenue to get.

The reason I cannot reach for these (very reasonable) things is because of my lack of capital and personal agency. Extremely debilitating executive dysfunction has stripped me of any milestones of adulthood someone of my age might be seeing. I've never been able to hold a job without growing deeply suicidal due to the effort required. Hobbies cost money. Rent costs money. Expressions of the self cost money. I have always had to exist within the confines of someone else's generosity to take care of me. It has stripped me of opportunities to grow as a person. It has made me less and less who I want to be and more who I am.

All too often because of this people don't take me seriously. Financial burden that I am, I have learned to make myself small better than any other skill. I choke up when asked to assert my wants. I put others first. I'm quiet and guarded. Any strive to make myself the person I want to be feels deeply embarrassing. Like a child who is convinced they're something they aren't. So people who meet me see the child. They see the loser who won't take steps towards employment because they're lazy. They see the girl who orbits a social group but never belongs. They see a nice girl who has far less desirable qualities than the other candidate for this job position. It hurts so fucking bad to be condescended to without any ability to rebut it.

So when does it end? When I find work that won't end up being the death of me? When our government wises up and pushes for UBI or expands upon disability payments? When they invent adderal that doesn't have a million side effects? When I get sick of it and give up? There's no real end in sight, and every time ADHD gets laughed at as a pop-psych joke it gets further away. Am I doomed to be a child forever? When will I see the respect I know I deserve?

And sure, pathologizing behavior is 'bad'. Maybe the answer to all my woes is to grit my teeth harder than I already have been my entire life. Maybe the real reason I see no forward movement is because I'm projecting my own helplessness. But can't it be a little easier? Everyone else is having a rough time, but at least they're having a time. The behavior I exhibit is very normal to neurotypical people on a bad day, but it makes up my entire existence. And it sure feels a hell of a lot more severe than someone having a day of bad focus.

The fucked up thing about it is that I like me. The present me and the me I want to be. We both have so much to offer. We're both one of the best friends you've ever had. We both have skills and qualities that make us very likeable people. But these qualities have little to no monetary value. Any way that I could monetize it would also require investment. Investment that I cannot make without agency. So I'm stuck as a vague bundle of good qualities and talents that everyone sees so much potential in and is eagerly awaiting a moment where I channel it somewhere. A moment that will never occur without agency.

[lady-october]

Pairing : Oli Sykes x Female Assistant Genre : Romance, Smut (18+ Only) Previous Chapters : Available on Ao3 & Tumblr

Story Content : Smut, Drama, Choking, Power dynamics, Romance, Rough sex, Sadism/Masochism, Dom/Sub, Mentions of addiction & self harm, Degradation, Praise kink, Exhibitionism, Orgasm denial, Breath play, Dirty talk.

Summary :

“Don’t you see what a dangerous game you’re playing? Why did you have to look so fucking delicious tonight, I couldn’t stop undressing you in my mind, thinking of all the twisted things I want to do to you.” She had only worked on the touring team for three weeks, but her mind had been hijacked by dirty thoughts of a man she barely even talked to. Sure, he was very attractive, but were there other reasons she was so uncontrollably drawn to him? This is a filthy story of pain, self discovery, and love.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Chapter 27: You monsters are people

Chapter title is lyrics from “Obey” 

This chapter is from Oli’s perspective. 

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

I can’t believe she stayed. 

As soon as the words had left my mouth, I’d regretted it. But being inside her, being surrounded by her scent, her legs wrapped around me, her large blue eyes set in that flushed, soft face, how was I supposed to keep the words to myself? 

How was I expected to not express my love for such a perfect sight? 

I’d been working overtime for days to keep from telling her I love her, knowing it was too soon, especially for someone like Alice.  

And then I’d gone and told her twice within the span of a couple of hours. 

I let my hands rake over my face as I shook my head under the shower head, the warm water cascading around my vision, turning the tiles wavy. 

I’m so fed up with myself. 

Regardless of my self-indulgent recklessness last night, she’d still stayed, faced her demons, and let me know she’s trying. 

And now it was my turn to return the favour. 

But how was I supposed to deal with my current problems, when dead and buried demons were suddenly crawling out of their overgrown graves, reminding me that maybe they hadn’t been properly dealt with in the first place? 

I thought I’d shed the shackles Fay had put around my ankles at this point, but in so many ways I’m still the same person I was a year ago when I read her texts. I still crave the validation, the attention she offers me so readily. So greedily. 

I’m not completely daft though, I know she’s just manipulating me, just like she’s always manipulated me. Controlling me in ways I feel powerless against. The difference is that I didn’t use to care. In fact, I welcomed it, because I wanted to spend every moment with her regardless of her intentions.  

It only became a problem when we were no longer on the same page. 

I also knew why she was the way she was, which made it even harder to judge her for it. 

You see, I may have always been drawn to troubled women, but Fay’s the most troubled of them all. 

By a long shot. 

She may not be suicidal in the typical sense, but she lives her life like there’s no tomorrow, continuously reckless in ways that usually guarantees becoming worm food prematurely. 

You’d think most of her wild traits could be chalked up to growing up with her addict mum, who were either not home for days on end, or blacked out on the sofa when she was. Or maybe even by the fact that she croaked from an overdose when Fay was barely a teen. 

But personally, I think most of it could be explained by being left in the care of her extremely abusive stepfather once her mum was out of the picture. 

About two years ago when it was still Mat and Fay, we’d all gone to stay in Birmingham to hunker down and spend a full week focused on writing and recording a new EP.  

This also happens to be the week me and Fay fell in love.  

Every night was sleepless, which wasn’t uncommon for me, but it turned out Fay also had her slumber related problems. This meant we’d spend hours every night together, oversharing, getting to know each other on an inappropriately personal level considering her relationship status with my best mate. 

I wasn’t used to opening up to people, but the very first night Fay had told me about her childhood, and it all just spiralled from there. Naturally – and because I’m a fucking mess – I was immediately enthralled by this seemingly mythical being, so fun, yet terrifyingly disturbed. 

What was so shocking about her was how casually she talked about her life, like it was the most normal thing in the world.  

Which, to be fair, to her it was.  

My earliest taste of this came on the second night of the trip.  We’d been talking about our mutual love for animals, when she interjected with a long list of stray pets she’d rescued off the streets and hid from her stepdad.  

Only to follow it up with how she kept coming home to them having their necks broken once he’d found them.  

I’d been horrified, wondering how that would’ve affected her – how it still must affect her, when without skipping a beat, she’d move on with the conversation, going on a passionate tangent about climate change out of nowhere. 

It was bizarre, it was refreshing – it was alarming and worrisome. But in some weird way it was also strangely comforting, knowing that even though she was deeply traumatised, and clearly unhealed, she still had a zest for life.  

Albeit maybe a bit too much zest.  

The last night of the trip was the most memorable to me. 

She’d been laying on the balcony table for about an hour, staring up into the night sky as it slowly shifted and changed to brighter colours. I’d been distracted by the silk robe she’d worn, and how her long, bright red hair was hanging over the edge of the table, halfway to the concrete floor. She was reminiscing about a hike she’d gone on with a group of friends, when she broke out into the most delightful laughter, smiling from ear to ear before rolling over to finally face me. It was like I was staring into the eyes of a deity, some ancient goddess, when she reached out to trace one of the skull-motifs inked into the skin of my arm. 

“I have something so similar to this one,” She’d started, her fingers still playing on my skin, the innocent touch feeling so charged, so forbidden in the deep hours of the night, it threatened goosebumps to form as I fought off the urge to stare straight down her cleavage, “I’d show you, but I don’t think Mat would be too happy about it.” 

While she wasn’t as covered in tattoos as me, she wasn’t too far off. And from her implication that the placement of the art piece in question was somewhere I shouldn’t be looking, I could immediately imagine it on her inner thigh, considering I may have caught a glimpse of the bottom of it earlier tonight. 

Which in turn had me imagine more things that caused blood to flow in places they shouldn’t be as I inevitably allowed my eyes to fall to her chest, so poorly covered by her robe. 

But through the fog of dirty thoughts and fought off impulses, I realised she was trying to seduce me, which forced me to take a step back and analyse what’s been going on the past week.  

And that maybe we’d both been trying to seduce each other. 

“Think it’s time to sleep.” I muttered before getting to my feet, knowing I was in deep, deep shit. 

“Stay,” she breathed, taking hold of the arm she’d been tracing, “It’s our last night here, and you haven’t told me about your addiction yet.” 

I was confused, as I’d already shared how it all started, and about my time in rehab. As far as I was aware, I’d told her everything there was to know about my addiction. 

“What are you on about, of course I have.” I countered, thrown off once again by the continuous sudden change of topics and moods that Fay seemed to come pre-programmed with.  

She let go of my arm, sitting up, and allowed her legs to dangle over the edge of the table before she spoke, “You’ve told me nothing I can’t read online,” She scanned my face with her dark eyes, such a deep brown they were pitch black in most lights, “What’s so terrible about you that you don’t want to be yourself?” 

I wanted to tell her I wasn’t there mentally anymore, that I was better now – happy and recovered.  

But I knew I’d be lying.  

Addiction is like weeds; you can clear them as thoroughly as you want, but if you don’t tend to them regularly, your whole garden will be overgrown before you know it. 

And I was a master of pretending everything was fucking dandy when they weren’t. 

“You sure you want to talk about that?” I asked, thinking of her mother’s history with drugs. 

She let out a laugh I’d heard her do several times before – mostly when discussing a sensitive subject. It was slightly manic, her eyes sparkling with mischief, “Why, because my deadbeat mom overdosed? Oh please. Just tell me, Oliver.” 

I hated it when she called me by my full name, and she knew I hated it from the moment we were introduced. 

Yet she didn’t stop until months into our relationship, claiming that Oli was a stupid British nickname, and since she’s American she was very adamant about rejecting the shortened version of my given name. 

Despite my better judgement, I sat back down, not wanting our week to end on a bad note. 

Even though I knew we’d have to stop hanging out alone after tonight, no matter how sad that thought made me. 

Especially because of how sad that thought made me. 

“It’s not that I think I’m terrible, necessarily. But it’s like my emotions are always dialled up to max, and there’s no shutting them off.” 

She grimaced at my response, “I feel a lot too, but that’s a great thing, and I would never want to turn them off. They’re what makes me feel alive; I cry, I scream, I laugh, I love, I fuck – and I feel better for it.” 

She forgot to mention that she plays Russian roulette with her life every so often by being an adrenaline junkie in the worst of ways. 

And no, I hadn’t overlooked how she put emphasis on the word fuck. Or the way it had me imagine her dark eyes looking up at me as her full lips closed around my shaft. 

“I wish it was that simple for me, love.” I responded under my breath. 

“Why can’t it be that simple?” 

“Because I’m a bomb.” 

There was a short pause as she considered my words, “Explain.” 

I got more comfortable in my seat again, preparing to unpack such a deep part of myself, unsure whether it was the early morning hours that made me comfortable enough to do so, or whether there was just something special about Fay. 

I took a deep breath, “If I let my feelings run amuck, I’d probably burst wide open. I’d get so fucking furious with the state of the world, or with how little anyone seems to give a shit, that I couldn’t think straight. On the other side of that, if I let myself love to my full potential,” I shook my head, “That’s a terrifying thought to be honest with you, cause I don’t know how far I’d take that. Pretty sure I’d completely lose myself, and drive anyone on the receiving end of it fucking mad in the process.” 

As I spoke Fay’s eyes burrowed into me, lighting up with the passion of a thousand suns.  

I’d later found out that it had been those words that made her fall in love with me, that she’d been searching high and low for a man that loved with as much intensity as she does, and after that night she was determined to become mine. 

I had to look away from her deep stare in order to finish making my point, “But when I get high, my feelings shut off, and for a while I’m free of all that. I get to just exist, without being exhausted from keeping myself restrained all the time.” 

“You’re talking about yourself like you’re some kind of monster that needs to be put down.” 

“Not put down, but I don’t think I should be let off my leash.” 

“Unless you’re talking about some kind of kinky play, I disagree.” 

I laughed. 

“You should try it. Next time you want to get high cause you hate your feelings so much, just let them do their thing.” She leaned forward, giving me a better view of her cleavage as her demeanour shifted; it was a very subtle shift, but it was more than enough to highlight the already undeniable sexual tension between us, “And whatever urges you get, give in to them. It might not be as bad as you think.” 

In a desperate attempt to keep my mind out of the gutter, and to prevent myself from pulling her into my lap right this moment, I conjured up images of my parents. 

And thankfully, it worked quickly, and well enough to keep myself in check. 

“Don’t think that’s a good idea, love.” My voice had dropped several octaves, giving away that I’d been considering doing what she was very clearly suggesting. 

A seductive smile bloomed on her lips, “Why?” 

“Because I have enough regrets as it is. I’ve no plans to add to my list of things that keep me up at night.” 

The look she gave me was that of a child who had their favourite toy taken away from them. 

As I got out of the chair to head to bed – alone – I couldn’t help but wonder what had Fay as sleepless as myself.  

Or how much regret she was repressing from living her life the way she did. 

But one thing I knew for sure was that she’d been hurt – badly. And hurt people who haven’t dealt with their pain, very easily hurt others. 

While I didn’t give in to my urges that night, once me and Fay did become a couple, I would quickly discover the full range of ways she’d inflict pain on me. 

It started with harmless manipulations to get her way in minor arguments, which was easy enough to overlook, especially when you’re falling head over heels for someone. 

Which I definitely was. 

Considering how hard and fast I was falling, it didn’t take much convincing for me to do as she’d suggested that night on the balcony. So, I gave in, submitting to my feelings in a way I hadn’t quite done before when it comes to love. 

It was so liberating, so wonderful, to just let myself worship her; to tell her I love her a million times a day without judgement, to have it so readily reciprocated, and allow myself to request as much of her time and attention as I craved. 

I was so convinced that she was the best thing that had ever happened to me, that of course I didn’t bat an eye when I noticed the small white lies. Surely she only lied to protect me, because she loves me so much. 

But the small lies grew bigger, the innocent manipulations turned sinister, and about 10 months into the relationship she’d almost always choose revenge over peace whenever we’d argue. She’d do things like ramp up her thrill-seeking behaviour to get me worried for her safety, or intentionally make me jealous – which, I am not proud of having done to Alice. 

But there’s a reason they call it the cycle of abuse. 

And now I’m the hurt person who apparently hasn’t dealt with their pain, hurting others in the process. 

Turning off the shower I wrapped a towel around myself before stepping in front of the fogged-up mirror over the hotel sink, giving it a wipe to take a good, hard look at myself. 

The eyes looking back at me were bloodshot, accompanied by dark circles and a scowl.  

While I’d fallen asleep fairly quickly last night, I’d been jarred awake by the usual nightmares so early it was still dark out, and I’d spent the hours since pondering what to do next. 

And while there were several pressing matters, all roads seemed to lead back to Alice. 

Do I tell her the truth about everything, or do I share the watered-down version I’d planned to relay last night before we got interrupted? 

I exhaled a shaky breath as the man in the mirror’s features turned increasingly panicked. 

Alice wasn’t wrong; you really are a fucking coward. 

Suddenly a loud bang could be heard from outside the bathroom, and I quickly realised it was the sound of the hotel room door slamming shut. 

Almost as if someone had stormed out of here. 

I launched for the bathroom door, ripping it open only to be met with an empty room. 

In the middle of the floor, I could see my phone lying face down, moved from its original position on the bedside table. 

Fuck. 

Dread washed over me, knowing what Alice must have seen on my phone to make her dash out of here in such a rush – the same thing I’d seen every time I’d looked at it since I’d accidentally messaged Fay. 

I wasted no time, collecting my phone and dashed towards Alice’s room, only for the shortest of moments registering that I’m soaking, and just clad in a towel around my waist. 

“Alice!” I yelled after several vigorous knocks on the door, “Let me in, it’s not what you think!” 

I threw a quick glance at my screen to see what Alice might have read. 

“Fay: I can’t wait to see you.” 

“Shit.” I breathed through clenched teeth. 

“Alice!” I yelled louder as more panic set in, knocking the door so hard it rattled. 

Realising she might’ve not even gone to her room, I pressed my ear to the solid wood to listen for any sounds inside, only to almost fall face first into the room when the door suddenly flew open. But instead of falling I was shoved by a furious Liam, who had sent me stumbling backwards, nearly hitting the wall on the opposite side of the hotel corridor from the force he’d used. 

He was clearly a fair bit stronger than he looks. 

“I don’t know what the fuck you did to that poor woman, but there’s not a chance I’m letting you see her.” 

“She thinks I’m chattin’ up another bird – I’m not!” I raised my voice, hoping Alice would hear as Liam had left the door ever so slightly ajar behind him. 

“Whatever.” He muttered, rolling his eyes, clearly not giving a rat’s arse about the specifics of the drama he’d been forced to take part in, before giving me a once over, “I need to go back in there. Get dressed, there’s kids staying here for fuck’s sake.” 

The door shut, and locked, with both Liam and Alice behind it. 

And I’d never felt so helpless. 

I took another step back and let myself lean against the wall I’d nearly slammed into moments ago, sliding down it as I tried to keep my heart from breaking entirely. 

My eyes were so full of tears that it took me a second to realise there was a pair of shoes in my peripheral vision. I looked up to see Mat standing next to me, pity painted all over his face.  

I hadn’t heard any other doors open or shut, which meant he must have been in the corridor for the entire interaction. 

“Would you like a hand?” He asked, sounding sombre. 

I took his stretched-out hand and pulled myself up on unsteady feet, “Did you catch all that?” 

“Yeah. Wanna talk?” 

I wiped the tears away while attempting to keep the towel around my waist from falling to the floor.  

I was torn, because I knew Mat had asked me with the intention of being there for me. 

But it wasn’t just Alice I needed to have a serious discussion with. And I doubted he would want to console me after I come clean to him about everything. 

“Yeah.” I responded after I’d made my decision. 

We walked to my room where we once again took a seat on the floor, leaning against the bed. Only this time it was the bed me and Alice had just spent the night in, made abundantly obvious by her pile of clothes on the floor, next to the bag which she’d left during her swift escape. 

I watched as droplets fell from my soaking hair and hit the carpet as we sat in silence for a while, probably to let me collect myself. The cheery, sun-lit room a stark contrast from my dark and hopeless emotions, which seemed so impossible to fight. 

But I had to start somewhere. 

“I almost got high last night.” I said, breaking the silence. 

I threw a quick glance at Mat; he looked hurt. 

I couldn’t blame him. 

“I almost got high when we were in London too, sent an old dealer a message and everything.”  

The problem with saying things out loud is that they immediately become all too real.  

But since I was walking a dangerously fine line considering I didn’t know if things would work out between me and Alice, I needed it to become real. 

And I needed it to become real right now. 

I looked over at my trousers laying on top of my luggage. 

“I got some,” I started, whispered, the words feeling like acid pushing up my throat, knowing that as soon as I’d let them leave my lips, I wouldn’t have the option of going numb anymore. I inclined my head towards my belongings, “Last night at the club. It’s in my pocket.” 

I’d been staring at the seemingly harmless article of clothing all morning before going for a shower, being so incredibly tempted by it, only able to talk myself out of it because she stayed. 

Which I realise is extremely problematic. 

Mat sighed deeply, leaning forward to rake his hands through his hair. 

“I’m sorry man. I know we said I’d come to you if I ever got the urge to use again.” 

He looked so disappointed, and I hadn’t even gotten to the worst part yet. 

“I had some suspicions you weren’t doing great, but I had no clue you were on this thin ice. I just thought I’d give you a chance to come talk to me when you were ready.” He released a nervous laugh, “Actually I thought that maybe you were doing better the past week or so. You’ve been a bit off, sure, but you’ve also seemed quite happy a lot of the time.” 

I hadn’t expected such a peaceful response after my admission. In fact, I’d suspected him to tear me a new one. 

But then again, I wasn’t done talking yet. 

“Mat, I’m a lying piece of shit, and I have no excuses.” 

“I’m just happy you’re talking to me before you did something, this way—” 

“I’ve been hooking up with Alice since London.” I interrupted, the disbelief on his features adding to my ever-growing mountain of self-hatred, but I knew I needed to continue speaking, to rip the band aid off once and for all. My mouth hung open for a beat, suspended, as I gathered the courage to tell him how I feel, “I’m in love with her.” 

Mats’ features grew cold as he processed what I was saying, readjusting his position on the floor. 

“Why’d you let me look like a twat, thinking I had a shot with her?” He asked, an anger lacing his words. 

I watched more drops fall from my hair as I hung my head low, “I wish I could say it’s cause she wanted to keep it a secret, and sure that’s how it started, but she understood why I needed to be honest with you lot, considering our past.” I took a deep breath and forced myself to face him again, “The long and short of it is that I wanted to see if I could trust her – see if she’d run off to you instead.” 

He watched me under furrowed brows, “So, you were using me.” 

“Yeah.” I confirmed, feeling like a useless wet fucking rat. 

Mat let out a long exhale as he leaned back into the mattress behind us, “You remember that week in Birmingham, when we were recording about two years ago?” 

I tensed, remembering it as the week I wanted to steal his girlfriend, “Of course.” 

He sucked on his teeth, contemplating, “I didn’t sleep much that week. I would sit with the window cracked and listen to you and Fay talk for hours.” I was surprised, not just by what he was saying, but by how guilty he looked as he told me, “The whole week was hell, but I needed to know if I could count on her. Turns out I couldn’t.” 

Apparently, it wasn’t just me who was riddled with trust issues after all our overlapping romances. 

“How come you never told me?” 

Mat shrugged, “I don’t know, bit embarrassing, I guess.” There was another short pause as more guilt made an appearance on him, “Also, I didn’t just want to see if I could count on Fay, but you as well.” 

I could see why, especially with how much lying I’d done over the years. 

“Well, how did I do?” I asked awkwardly. 

“Better than me.” He said with a bitter smile, clearly referring to the fact that he’d slept with Fay when I was technically still with her. 

Appearing as if he remembered something, his features grew worried, “I never slept with Alice, but you should know there was stuff going on.” 

I sighed deeply, “I know.” 

The look he gave me was filled with confusion, “And you’re alright with that?” 

All I could do was shrug, “We’re not a couple. And at this rate I’m not sure we’ll ever be.” I said, knowing there was a real chance I’d scared her off for good this time. 

He opened his mouth, probably to say something hopeful and kind that would only serve to make me feel worse, so I hurried to speak before he got a chance to. 

“There’s one more thing.” I could see him bracing himself mentally for whatever I was about to say, but I knew he’d never expect this to come out of my mouth, “I’ve been talking to Fay.” 

“Fucking hell, Oli.” He looked utterly disgusted with me. 

Which reflected my own feelings about myself perfectly. 

“She’ll be at our next show.” I continued. 

Mat got to his feet. At first, I thought he was about to leave, but instead he just began angrily pacing back and forth in front of me. 

I felt like a kid who was about to get a scolding from their parents. 

He stopped and looked down at my pathetic self on the floor, “Did you invite her?” 

I shook my head, causing more droplets to fall all around me, “No, she was already going. She’s been going to a lot of our shows the past year.” 

His eyes began darting all over the room, his mind obviously racing with thoughts – probably the same thoughts I had when I found out. After a handful of seconds, I could see the anger inside him deflate before he returned his attention to me, “Do you still miss her?” 

I shifted awkwardly, “I’m not sure.” I said honestly, shame filling me at my admission, “Thing is, the thought of seeing her again makes my skin crawl, but there’s just so much unresolved there. I want answers.” 

The pity reappeared in his eyes before he sat back down next to me, “You think she’d actually give you answers?”  

The question could have been perceived as mocking, but I could tell it was asked with sincerity.  

“I don’t know. All I know is that I’m nowhere near as healed as I thought I was.” And it was messing up my life in ways I couldn’t stand anymore. 

It also had me wondering how many unhealed wounds she’d left Mat with. 

“Do you want to meet her?” I asked quietly. 

He let his head fall back onto the mattress, looking almost as defeated as I felt, “I don’t know. She has a way of fucking with your head. I should hate her guts for everything she’s done to us, yet…” 

“You feel bad for her.” 

He huffed out a laugh, “Yeah.” 

“Yeah, me too.” I muttered. 

Mat studied my face for a moment before getting to his feet again, throwing a look towards my pile of clothes on my luggage, then back at me. 

I knew what he was silently asking, so I just nodded. 

He took the short steps over to my trousers, picking the pockets clean and headed towards the bathroom. 

When I heard the toilet flush, I was both relieved and terrified in equal measures. 

“I really need to go check on Lee.” He announced as soon as he came back out, almost as if pretending what he just did for me never happened, “Only the Matt’s of the group have it together lately.” 

Ah, never mind. 

“Why we needed two.” I said with a tired smile. 

He smiled back at me, “I’ll be back in just a couple of minutes, yeah?” 

My tired smile blossomed, feeling incredibly grateful for his continued support, especially when I was pulling so much stupid shit. 

“Mat,” I said right as he was about to leave, “I’m sorry.” 

“I know.” He responded casually before latching the door shut. 

I looked towards the dress I’d peeled off Alice’s exhausted body to help her get ready for bed last night, and I felt as if I was at a crossroads; either I fall apart, wallow in self-pity and let the melancholy take root. 

Or I continue clawing out of the grave I’d dug for myself, and fight. 

Springing into action, I started rummaging through Alice’s bag, to see if she’d left her phone behind or not. 

After having made an absolute mess of the room in record time, I deduced she’d taken it with her, so I sat down on the bed and began taking screenshots. I wasn’t sure if Alice was anything like myself when it came to these sorts of things, but personally I’d require proof. 

Mat came back as I was in the middle of cataloguing my conversation with Fay the past two days, hoping that the context would shine a better light on the situation, destroying any conclusions Alice had drawn from the individual damaging messages that had been present on my lockscreen. 

“Just a minute, mate.” I mumbled to Mat, who collapsed into the chair next to the bed. 

But I must have taken more than a minute, as I suddenly heard the TV turn on, pulling my attention away from the message I was typing up for Alice. 

I looked up at Mat through my now slightly dryer hair, “Sorry, I got a bit caught up.” 

“Wanna tell me what you’re doing?” He asked with an amused smile. 

“I can’t let Alice think I’m trying to get back with Fay, so I’m sending over the whole chat… Along with a message.” 

He stared at me for a beat, “Let me see before you send it.” 

It might seem like an odd request to some, but me and Mat had often helped each other out when it came to delicate communication. It started when we were teens trying to convince our parents we weren’t out partying every night, but it quickly evolved into helping each chat up girls on MSN.  

When we were kids it pretty much only served to get our way, no matter what. But once we got older, we stopped lying, turning the intention behind putting our heads together significantly less self-serving.  

As an example, I helped him write the eulogy for a childhood friend that passed away some years ago. 

“Alright.” I responded without giving it a second thought. 

Once I was done, I handed the phone over to Mat. From the amount of time he took, he was clearly also reading over my chat with Fay. 

I grew increasingly anxious the longer he took, knowing that he was close to reading the things I’d told Fay; how I’d finally responded to her relentless stream of messages, showcasing how pathetic I am.  

Highlighting that she clearly still had some type of hold on me. 

“She seems different.” He finally said. 

“Yeah.” I agreed. 

“Like she’s happier. But who knows if that’s just for show or not.” Mat handed the phone back to me, “How come you haven’t told her about Alice?” 

While the messages I’d sent to Fay were cold, short, and could be counted on one hand – versus the vast amount she’d sent me – I had given her a life update, intentionally not mentioning Alice while doing so. 

“I almost did, but I’m not sure she’d still want to meet up if she knew I’d fallen for someone else.” 

Fay matched me in possessiveness, and considering she was still obsessed with me, I knew she’d take it poorly. 

He took a moment to consider my reasons, “Besides that bit potentially looking a bit sus, I think you’re ready to send that.” 

“You think it’s enough?” 

He shrugged, “Hopefully. Depends on Alice really. Like you said, you two aren’t a couple. But I think that’s the best you’re gonna get – it’s a good message you’ve written.” 

I looked at the message, explaining how I’d accidentally messaged Fay, and my reasons for responding at all, and wondered if it contained some hidden meaning – some hidden trigger that would send her into another spiral, considering I was essentially speaking to Alice like she was already my girlfriend. 

‘Are you breaking up with me?’ 

Her panicked words from last night echoed in my head, a most bewildering concoction of emotions lingering from them.  

Copying everything into Alice’s message box, I pressed send, and fell backwards onto the bed. 

“Don’t get lazy now, you’ve got to hold yourself to your word.” Mat said. 

In the message I’d let Alice know I’d be waiting by her door until she was ready to talk to me. 

My tired eyes met Mat’s, and I told him something I don’t tell him nearly enough, “I don’t know what I’d do without you to be honest.” 

“There are other drummers. None as good as me of course, but I’m sure you’d make do.” He joked, keeping the mood light as always. 

I just shook my head, “You know what I mean, man. I really don’t deserve this type of treatment from you. I’ve been a fucking bellend at every turn, and you’re over here giving me advice about a bird I know you also feel some type of way about. I just want to keep my shit together long enough to feel like a decent friend. Just for once.” 

Mat braced his arms on his knees as he leaned forward, giving him an air of seriousness, “You’ve been a shit friend many times,” he started, pinning me with his eyes, “truly fucking awful actually…” he muttered, and I felt my heart drop for a moment before he continued, “But you’re not like that anymore, and you haven’t been for a long time. You’ve shown me time and time again that you can be trusted – that you care, and that you are trying bloody hard to better yourself; and that’s all that matters to me. You’ve been there for me through some truly horrible times as well, so you’ve got to stop being so hard on yourself Oli. You don’t give yourself nearly as much credit as you should.” 

Silence fell for a beat as I tried to keep the tears out of my eyes. 

“The Oli I knew from five years ago wouldn’t have come clean about any of the things you told me today.” He added, “I would’ve had to pry that out of him, kicking and screaming.” 

I knew he was right, and while I knew I had changed, it just wasn’t good enough. 

“I want to do better than this.” I whispered. 

He slapped his knees and got to his feet, indicating that it was time to get up and deliver on my promises, “And you will – you’ve got an excellent track record for improvement.” 

Once I’d gotten dressed, I grabbed a drink from the mini fridge and sat down next to Alice’s door. 

“Hiya.” I awkwardly said under my breath to the second couple walking past me the last couple of minutes, shuffling my legs out of the pathway to not be more of a nuisance than I had to be.  

Lunch time was coming up so most of the guests were about to head to the restaurant located on the first floor, causing some hope to sprout, that maybe she’d want to head down as well. 

Every so often I’d hear the faint sound of talking coming from behind the wooden door, and butterflies would come to life in my chest whenever those inaudible words were spoken by her soft, delicate voice. 

As I listened to her, my mind wandered back to when my obsession with Alice had developed to the point of no return, about a week before I grabbed her and fucked her on that table in London. 

She’d been using the laundry facilities at a house we were renting down south for a three day stay between gigs – something we did at times as it was often more comfortable than staying at hotels. When she’d suddenly stormed out of the loud utility room, running into the living room where I was currently reading.  

For a moment I’d thought the place was on fire from the way she’d legged it, in combination with the sheer panic all over her flushed face, causing me to bolt upright from my previously sprawled position. 

“Is everything alright?” I asked over the washing machine which was clearly in the centrifuge part of the cycle. 

But Alice just fell to the floor in front of the coffee table between us and began searching through the pockets of a jacket that was bunched up there, too preoccupied with whatever she was searching for to provide me with an answer. I thought that maybe she was having some sort of medical emergency, potentially looking for an inhaler or an EpiPen, but then I saw smoke escaping the utility room door frame, lapping onto the ceiling, which caused me to immediately spring into action. 

Heat smacked me in the face once I stepped into the room, only to realise it wasn’t smoke I’d seen, but steam. The place was like a sauna, and after taking one look at the pile of folded clothes next to the iron, I quickly deducted why. 

Realising that whatever crisis was occurring didn’t have anything to do with the utility room, I turned around, only to immediately be face to face with Alice. 

The panic was gone from her features, instead she appeared embarrassed, and so apologetic you’d think she’d kicked a puppy. While holding her phone, she opened her mouth to explain, and before she even got a word out, I let myself relax, understanding that there was in fact no danger. 

When words began leaving her lips, I was about to interrupt her, to let her know I couldn’t hear a thing she was saying over the loud machinery. Only the faintest, most delicate tone of voice could be heard – which is exactly what I could hear now, listening to her in the hotel corridor.  

But I never got to speak up, as I got incredibly distracted. 

A drop of sweat running down the side of her neck had caught my attention, so clearly visible due to her hair being haphazardly put in a bun. My eyes followed it as it slowly snaked along her skin, enthralled, hungry, only to realise that her whole body seemed to be glistening with sweat, just covered by a flimsy crop top and shorts. 

I felt as if I was going mad.  

Like I’d been wandering in the desert for days and she was a lake, suddenly appearing right under my nose. 

Only it had been over a year since I’d fucked anything but my own hand. 

She hadn’t been talking for more than ten seconds when she gave me a questioning look. Having no way of knowing what she’d asked me, I just nodded in response, hoping it would be appropriate.  

Hoping my erection hadn’t become visible yet. 

It seemed to have worked, as she gave me a shy smile before walking off to the kitchen, shutting the door behind her. I sighed in relief, heading for the bathroom as I had nothing better to do than to use the fresh mental images of her to release some tension. 

But the laundry cycle ended, and the house fell quiet enough for me to hear that she was on the phone. 

I stopped, looking towards the kitchen door, then back to the bathroom, contemplating. 

But curiosity got the better of me, and I found myself taking gentle steps in Alice’s direction, wanting to hear what she was saying. 

Unlike the thick wooden door of the hotel room next to me, the kitchen door was so thin it might as well not have been there at all. And once I got close enough, I could make out her words if I focused hard enough. 

“I can’t believe I just remembered, I feel horrible about it, mum.” 

“You called her, you got her a gift, and we always put your name in the card we give her. I’m certain she’s not expecting a card from you as well.” Her mum had responded, which I’d heard clearer than I’d heard Alice – and the call wasn’t even over speaker phone. 

“But I always give her and all her sisters their own cards, I wouldn’t want her to feel left out. I know it’s been a couple of weeks since her birthday, but should I just send one now?” 

The longer I listened, the more puzzled I grew. 

Could all that panic really have been over a bloody birthday card? 

I was so extremely bewildered by the fact that this creature felt so much guilt over something so extremely trivial – especially since I was used to someone regularly treating me like a doormat and expressing no guilt at all over it. 

Or at least not until they feared losing me – until it affected them. 

Fay was wrong about a lot of things, and until that moment I’d thought she’d been entirely wrong about letting myself relax when it comes to how I experience love. 

But was it possible that I’d simply let myself fall for the wrong person? Given my heart to someone who wouldn’t handle it like the fragile thing it is; so quick to bleed. 

And then the idea of giving into my emotions with someone like Alice consumed me. 

I was terrified, attempting to reject the longing inside me. But it was a pointless battle, the hope that I’d found someone worth handing my aching, scarred heart to was simply too strong. 

Of course, falling for Alice had come with its own set of problems. 

Problems I needed to resolve. 

The hotel room door suddenly opened, jarring me out of my thoughts. 

I shot to my feet, knocking over the empty energy drinks next to me with a clatter. 

Hours had passed, and I’d kept going back to my room for more caffeine as staying awake wasn’t the easiest at this point considering how little I’d slept. 

Disappointment washed over me as I was staring into Liam’s fed-up eyes. 

“She wants to talk to you now.” He proclaimed before pushing past me to head towards the elevator. 

The door slowly swung open, and I finally got to see her. 

Her eyes were slightly puffy, and she was holding her arms defensively. 

She was as beautiful as ever. 

“Hi.” I breathed, leaning against the door frame, feeling disproportionally happy to see her considering I didn’t know if it was just to tell me to fuck off for good. 

She rubbed her arms, her messy blonde locks falling over her shoulder as she did so, “So, are you gonna meet up with her?” 

She sounded so shy, so scared. 

“I think so, yeah.”  

There was a disappointment that settled on her, reflected more in her posture than on her face, which still held a sense of fear. 

I looked around us, wanting to elaborate, wanting to talk to her privately, only to see someone coming from the end of the corridor, “Can I come in?” 

She nodded and moved to the side. 

Allowing me the privilege of her company, and hopefully to set things right. 

... Subscribe to the story on Ao3 for future updates

[egginfroggin]

Unsettling possession art was inevitable, let's be honest, I'm surprised it took me this long to post any

Shiny ink woooooooooo

Delightful artist @modmad's old inktober art is what implanted the idea of shimmery gold-eyed Bipper in my head, and I encourage you to go look at their stuff! It's incredible, and very, very shaped!!

[spotaus]

Thinking about Orchid and her connection to my take on Gender (because this was meant to be about her and the Crew but it just devolved into a character analysis kinda??? More trauma-dumping maybe???) This is very much an oc/personal rant so feel free to ignore it 🫡

So, Orchid started off as a character I didn't really think much of (hear me out this is going to be relevant) because I wanted to add a 'girl' character but didn't know what to *do* with her, y'know? She was always going to be the strongest one there, she had the odds stacked in her favor with her parents. She was always going to be the gloomy side-character to match Reset's energy. But I think she's gone through every stage of Generic Woman I could possibly find.

At first she was angry and abrasive (think Fell!Sans) where every other word was a curse and she was likely to throw the first punch then laugh as she kicks her enemy while they're down. This was when Reset was a cartoonishly self-centered villain whose goal was simply to prove others wrong. Then Orchid became a sort of sisterly figure. This was short-lived, but she was the one comforting people who Reset would torment, but would ultimately follow his orders, because at this point he was actually a danger and sadistic. And then there was the phase where the story mellowed out and she became the token Goth Girl who, yes she was strong, but was heavy on the 'whatever' energy. Then there was her Era of deep self-loathing and anxiety about her worth that held her back and made her a much more timid and meek character who would only lash out on occasion.

Now, Orchid is the best of those iterations I've written yet. She's calm, level-headed, and a natural leader. Her father raised those traits into her. But she's very reactive, and can be silly, and when she's comfortable it's likely that air of importance transforms into something more comfortable and familiar. She laughs loudly and grins wide, she likes loud video-games but loves to read in the quiet. She's extremely disciplined, and normally no one can get through her tough exterior besides her best friend, Reset. She does what she does for her own enjoyment, sure, but she's thought of every angle and makes her choice to help Reset and control the others with her whole chest. She still worries she won't live up to her invisible expectations, and that and her loyalty are her two driving forces.

I know that Orchid is important to me because she's the longest-running female oc I've had. I have a rough relationship with womanhood/girlhood and I know looking back that Orchid recieved every ounce of my distaste for being a woman that I could shovel into her. That never made her less of a character, she was actually always one of my favorites, and rarely was she a 'punching bag oc'. I just... projected onto her a lot. And she's a good sign of how I've learned who I am. I've decided that my own femininity is something I could live without. I'd rather not associate myself with it, and I'd like to leave it in my past, focusing on a future where I'm not tied down with any gender roles or expectations. That won't happen, but I've come to terms with it myself. Orchid though? I figured out through her that I don't have to hate women characters. My own distaste for my circumstances doesn't mean I have to push it onto my characters (on God I've never expressed anything rude to actual people, that'd be rude as hell and uncalled for, but I have a bad habit of disliking fictional women in media). So, Orchid is a well-roubded character finally. She has motivations abd goals and a *lot* more depth than I ever expected her to. She's happy with being a woman, she's content. She's not treated differently for it in unfair ways by those she cares about, so she doesn't mind it. She likes to wear pretty outfits and lets Reset add bows to her ribbons. She doesn't let being a woman hold her back in the slightest.

So, yeah. Orchid is one of my babies. If I ever leave this Fandom behind for good, she's one that's coming with (Ichor, Orchid, and Pretender all have human designs I can use elsewhere lol-) but in the meantime I'll just rotate her around in my brain for a while longer.

If I'm right, she's been with me for nearly 5-6 years and I went through a *lot* with her as an outlet. So, she's kinda just like an old stuffed animal. A lil ripped, matted fur, maybe a stain or two, but there's a story there and that makes it important beyond belief.

[yuujispinkhair]

Hockey player! Sukuna headcanons

Inspired by this lovely ask by @subarusuguru. You made my head spin with the idea of hockey player Sukuna!! Thank you so much for sharing your thoughts with me! I had to write a little something 💗

Pairing: Hockey player!Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: fluff + smut Word Count: 700 Warnings: 18+, smut, mentions of injuries, but nothing bad. All characters are of age. Divider by @/benkeibear

Hockey player!Sukuna, who is a devil on the ice. The rival teams always know they will have several injured players after each match against Sukuna. He has a very aggressive playstyle, and his speed and strength, combined with his quick mind, make him unstoppable.

Hockey player!Sukuna, whose maroon eyes always find you when he enters the ice. He winks at you and makes a kissy face, laughing when you blow him a kiss back. The whole hockey arena can know that you are his, and he is yours. And anyone who dares make a rude comment about him being so soft for his girl will receive a brutal body check that sends them facefirst onto the ice or into the boards.

Hockey player!Sukuna, who has a mad glint in his eyes during the whole match. He is ambitious and confident, and he always plays to win. He loves being an asshole and taunt his opponents, laughing when he can get under their skin with his snide comments. But no matter how much Sukuna riles them up, they still aren't able to stop him because he always puts his whole anger and strength into his game.

Hockey player!Sukuna, who is a completely different man when he goes on the ice with his princess. Treating you with so much care and being such a gentleman. He holds your hand to make sure you don't fall when he teaches you how to ice skate. And once he can see you are ready for the next step, he lets go of you and tells you to skate toward him to get a kiss.

Hockey player!Sukuna, who has so much fun when showing you how to play hockey. Your time on the ice is filled with playful fights and good-natured teasing comments that are so flirty that you get butterflies the whole time. His laugh sounds different too, happy and free, and he only uses his strength to pick you up and pin you against the boards so he can kiss you until you are breathless.

Hockey player!Sukuna, who grins that charming grin when he lets you score and praises you for being such a natural talent, even though you know you suck. Of course, Sukuna also has to show off a little in front of his girl, and he steals the puck from you easily, making you gasp at his speed and watch with wide eyes and a smitten expression on your face as your boyfriend skates across the ice and shoots the puck into the goal with so much force it almost rips the net.

Hockey player!Sukuna, who feels a proud buzz running through his veins anytime he sees you in his jersey. Somehow it drives him crazy to see you walking around with his last name on your back. It spurs him on to play even better and show you that he is worthy to be your man. Maybe he should buy a ring and give you his last name on your ID too, and not just on a jersey.

Hockey player!Sukuna, who loves to fuck you in the locker room after every match when his teammates have left. A victory fuck to celebrate when he is still pumped full of adrenaline and euphoria, pulling you onto his lap and bouncing you on his thick cock while groaning in your ear and telling you that it is all thanks to your love and support that makes him play so damn good. Or an angry fuck after a loss to make him feel ok again, lifting you up and slamming you against the shower wall, snapping his hips fast, fucking you hard and deep, growling your name when he cums in you and finds sweet relief in your warm cunt.

Hockey player!Sukuna, who can't stop smiling when you dote on him when he is injured after a rough match. He has a high pain tolerance and doesn't really worry all that much about the injuries, but he loves it when you take care of him and look at him with so much worry in your eyes. It makes him feel so warm, and so he happily plays along and lets you change his bandages, pet his hair, and cuddle him.

Hockey player!Sukuna, who loves to win, but who thinks his biggest victory was winning your heart.

I am so in love with him!! Thank you so much for sending me that prompt!! I hope you liked my little headcanons ;)

Comments and reblogs would be very sweet 💗

[gyaruhana]

Hii, firstly i just wanna say that your writing is amazing and this is a request for player 333/lee myung-gi !!

can you do headcanons of how he would be as your boyfriend while being in the squid games, sfw and nsfw please !! (it’s your choice wether you wanna write out his previous relationship with junhee or not)

thank you for doing this if you do!!

Myung-gi/Player 333 - Headcannons (sfw + nsfw)

Synopsis: Myung-gi as your boyfriend during the games!

A/N: i wrote in junhee's relationship briefly !!

Warnings: smut content, pussy eating, bathroom sex, public sex (except no mentions of anyone seeing), jealous sex, degredation for Myung-gi - praise for you

SFW:

➠ worlds most protective bf if your in the games together ➠ He keeps you close to him at all times and side eyes anyone who attempts to talk with you (he makes you sleep in the same bed with him too) ➠ If you came here to help him with his debt, he feels so guilty and will always look at you from a distance with the saddest look ever ➠ like a little kicked puppy honestly ➠ If you joined the games because you had debt, he's be angry you didn't tell him sooner and acted like he totally could've paid it off even though he was in debt himself ➠ Keeps you far away from Thanos because he doesn't trust him at all !! ➠ always holding your hand cause he's so scared you'll disappear if he doesn't.. ➠ Definitely kept you behind him during red light green light ➠ he's just a little too ready to sacrifice himself for you ➠ for the sake of a little angst we're gonna say that Junhee is still his ex and pregnant with his child ➠ totally panics when he saw her because he didn't expect her to be pregnant after they had agreed on an abortion. ➠ confronts Junhee about it and you just happen to notice the hushed argument between them so you then confront him about it ➠ really doesn't want to tell you at first so he dodges the truth ➠ When he eventually admits the truth, he's looking at you with the most nervous expression and he's internally panicking ➠ begs you to forgive him ➠ literally gets down on his knees and starts pleading for forgiveness ➠ doesn't care if someone else sees because his main priority is you ➠ 10x more clingy after that ➠ He still chooses to keep playing because he wants to win money so he can give you a good life ➠ Overall, protective over you and is always watching you

NSFW:

➠ sex in the bathroom when no one else is there for sure !! ➠ he's so gentle when fucking you there.. ➠ If it's lights out so he can't just have some fun with you, he'll totally eat you out and whisper stuff about keeping quiet ➠ Honestly does anything just to make you feel good really bc he feels so guilty that you're here with him ➠ also he's whiny per usual.. ➠ praises you so much while also apologizing and saying he'll make it up to you that you're here by making you cum over and over again ➠ Do degrade him a little.. ➠ He will let out a slutty moan !! ➠ cries too actually regardless of whether he's subbing or doming ➠ does like to fuck you slowly in the bed when all the players are asleep with his hands wrapped around your waist. ➠ if Thanos makes some sort of comment about you or flirts, do expect Myung-gi to get totally jealous and fuck the shit out of you !! ➠ Makes sure your loud enough for Thanos to hear bc he wants Thanos to know that you belong to him ➠ Surprisingly, he does end up having sex with you a lot ➠ mainly as an unspoken apology but also to release some stress after every game ➠ overall, he's gentle yet also rough at times but still a total whore

"Shh.. we have to be- quiet," Myung-gi says with a hushed tone as he thrusts his hips back and forth slowly. His face was buried in your neck as he tried to keep his movements subtle so no one else would suspect a thing. Ever since completing the first game and seeing you, he's been feeling so guilty. He had already apologied a thousand times over but it wasn't enough to fix the ache in his heart. Somehow, Myung-gi came to the conclusion that he'd feel much better if he released some stress by fucking his cock into you. He let out a groan as he felt you tighten around him suddenly. "A-are you gonna cum? Please do- Wanna feel you cum on my cock, baby,"

[gothicfied]

can you write for thanos x reader where the reader is really stoic and calm, not mean, but just does not express much emotion and it drive thanos crazy trying to impress her and get a reaction? Thanks :)

Hard to get - Thanos / Player 230

Pairing: Thanos / Player 230 x calm!reader

Summary: Thanos will do anything to get a reaction out of you, even if that means he has to put himself in danger.

Warnings: Mentions of death/dying, blood, gunshots, killing (typical squid game stuff), other than that it's just fluff (kinda lol), not proof read (english isn't my first language)

Word count: 971 Words

A/N: hii, I hope this is alright and what you had imagined!

When you woke up in a random bed, in a new environment with random people, you almost started to have a panic attack. Usually, you don't really show your emotions, you just keep them locked inside you and let a war rage in your mind while appearing to be calm about a situation you can't be calm about. After the initial shock wore off, you made your way to the middle of this area filled with beds, where other contestants or players with different numbers started complaining to the guards, that wore pretty ridiculous outfits you thought, about where their belongings went and other stuff.

After getting to know the rules of this.. 'game' you guys were playing for money, as everyone including you was here because of huge debt or money problems, you were led to the first mini game. Everyone went up the stairs while upbeat music was playing in the background, the fun colors of this environment stinging in your eyes. Suddenly, you hear someone whistle behind you: "Señorita!" The voice of a man seemingly called out to you. Without stopping, you turned your head around to face a purple-haired guy with a shit eating grin on his face. "Wow, what is a pretty thing like you doing here?" Without giving him a reaction, you just shrugged and went on, feeling your legs grow tired of climbing these stairs.

"What? You don't know?" Player 230, the numbed on his chest, seemed relentless. "Well, yeah, I obviously know. You do too, we're all in here because of one reason." you answered him, matter-of-factly, not giving him the time to speak to his face. "Have I already told you how pretty you are?" This guy's flirting techniques weren't really that great. He continued to shower you with compliments, to which you mostly didn't reply or at most said "Thank you."

When arriving at the top, every player had to take a picture in front of some screens. Conventionally, Thanos, as you gathered his alias was from others who seemed to know him, was waiting in the queue next to you, now talking with.. his fans? You didn't quite get it, but apparently he was some sort of rapper you had never heard of. A few players wanted to take a group photo with him and when he said yes, he looked at you, still waiting in line for your turn. "Hey, you there. Come on, you can be in the picture, too." Thanos said, signaling you to come over to him. Raising your eyebrows slightly, you just waved it off, with it now being your turn to take a picture.

Entering the open-roof arena of sorts, with the femald voice explaining the rules of Red-Light-Green-Light to the players, you found yourself next to Thanos, again. "So, you don't know who I am?" You just said 'no' and looked at him expectantly, like you wanted him to explain who he was. It seemed to annoy him. The man went on about how he was a rapper, even demonstrating that to you with some cheesy rap he came up on the spot, until he was interrupted by some guy, yelling that everyone who'd move during red light would die. How drastic.

"What is he talking about?" Thanos whispered, but you didn't show a reaction and rather listened to what Player 456 had to say. It started to really get on Thanos' nerves that he couldn't even coax one reaction or emotion out of you. No matter gow charming he was or how many questions he asked, you remained aloof. He kind of liked it.

"Must be on drugs, huh?" Another attempt of him to talk to you, to which you shushed him. The man in up front was talking about how you'd get shot if you moved, that being disqualified just meant they'd execute you. You didn't want to believe him, like, this sounds too crazy to be real, right? Yet still, you were determined to follow his directions. Everyone lined up on the white line, the mechanic girl doll thing staring you down. It was big and scary, also mysterious in some way. How would they shoot eliminated players? Would she shoot lasers out of her eyes like in some kind of film?

You found out pretty quickly that it was just guards who did it, as one girl panicked when a bee landed on her and that set off a chain reaction with others trying to run for their lives, just to get it taken away from them. You were floored. Splatters if blood landed on your face from one woman being shot right in front of you, Thanos not far away experiencing the same. Player 456 was screaming everyone to either run or freeze, depending on if it was red light or green light, guiding the remaining players through the game quickly.

Thanos and you had been locking eyes everytime you were supposed to freeze, him sending you a small wink everytime he saw your disturbed face. Unbeknownst to you, to everyone, he had taken some kind of pill out from his cross necklace, some kind of drug, and was now bouncing all over the place, like this wasn't serious. He reveled in the fact that he was able to get a reaction out of you now: you were mortified everytime he did something even remotely dangerous. Aww, you cared for him!

Going as far as pushing other players over, getting them killed, you concluded that this guy was mental.

The last few seconds of the given time were scary. You had made it over the finish line, saving yourself from a gruesome death, just like Thanos.

"Glad to see you on this side, Señorita. Would've been too bad if I couldn't have seen your pretty face ever again."

[awearywritersworld]

my very soul demands you

sukuna x reader summary: you introduce sukuna to cuddling and romance novels. meanwhile, he's still struggling to make sense of his feelings for you, despite wanting to commit murder because another man had the nerve to touch your arm (which earns him a lecture from yuuji). w/c: 2.5k tags/warnings: enemies to lovers. angst to fluff. jealous!sukuna. aged up!yuuji. features yuuji x reader. cursing. banter. hopefully not too ooc for sukuna. not canon compliant. fem!reader. no use of y/n. no manga spoilers. a/n: this could maybe be read as a stand alone, but it'd flow much better with the context of the previous two parts. lots of denial and begrudging softness from sukuna here. definitely more fluff than anything tho. this series has been fun to write, so thanks for reading<3 i appreciate reblogs or feedback! let me know if you'd like to be tagged in any additional parts. series masterlist // masterlist

when you crawl in between sukuna's legs and curl up against his chest, it's a foreign experience that makes his body stiffen.

he'd been with countless women during his lifetime, but while fucking is one thing, he never once found himself in a position that struck him as this... intimate.

"hold me," you whine as if you can sense his unfamiliarity with such matters.

he rolls his eyes, beginning to wonder if your habit of throwing orders at him is actually some sort of compulsive need. "didn't anyone ever teach you manners?"

despite his irritation, he acquiesces to your demand and once he envelops you in his arms, some of his rigidness dissipates.

you hum contentedly. "isn't that better?"

"it's tolerable," he asserts, his chest vibrating against your cheek.

"whatever you say." tangling your legs with his, you turn your attention back to the movie you've both been watching.

he doesn't understand this... tedious display of affection, nor does he particularly enjoy it... right?

and he only allows it because he can't rid his mind of the image of your tear stained face... right?

yeah, that has to be it. he figures he can endure this, given that he was the reason you were so upset earlier.

it goes without saying that he doesn't realize it when he begins to rub absentminded circles on your back.

and the way the warmth of your body forces his usually tense muscles to relax goes unacknowledged.

when the credits begin to roll, sukuna's wearing an expression of unimpressed disinterest. "that's seriously how it ends?"

you don't respond, so he looks down only to find that you're fast asleep.

"tch. you ask to watch a movie, force me to pick it, and then you don't even have the decency to stay awake." he's not sure why he's chiding you even though he knows you can't hear him, but he keeps his voice low enough that it won't disturb you.

sukuna's spent more time than he cares to admit watching your sleeping form, but this is the first time that it's actually him you're pressed against. it's the first time he can reach out and touch you.

your hair has fallen across your face, so he pushes it back behind your ear gently. the pads of his fingers brush against your cheekbone, a ghost of a caress, and his gaze lingers on your parted lips.

he lets out a deep breath, tearing his eyes away from you. "impertinent brat."

reaching for the remote, he flips off the tv and casts the room in darkness.

upon waking up in the morning, yuuji's confused once he notices that he's on the couch and you're sleeping against his chest.

he may have been half asleep when he arrived home, but he's still positive he went to bed. stretching his arms above his head, the movement jostles you from your slumber.

"mornin', baby."

"good morning, yu," you yawn in response, shifting to sit up.

"how'd i wind up on the couch?" he asks, though he's already got an inkling of the answer.

"oh," you blush. "sukuna kind of made an appearance last night."

"that so? how'd it go?"

you think there might be a shadow of a smirk playing on his lips. is he teasing you?

"good," you offer. "we watched a movie."

"watched a movie with the king of curses," he muses before his face breaks out into a lopsided grin. "you sure are somethin', baby."

returning his smile, you lean in and press your lips to his. "hm. says you."

it's not uncommon for you to meet yuuji for lunch if his mission is short and nearby, and today is one of those days, so he eagerly makes his way to the cafe you agreed on.

he's still a few hundred feet away when he spots you through the window, chatting with a man he recognizes as your childhood friend.

his gaze drops to where his hand is wrapped around your forearm as you both share a laugh together.

it doesn't really bother yuuji, he trusts you implicitly and jealousy isn't an emotion that's really on his radar. the same can't be said for everyone, though.

sukuna watches on as well, his thoughts much darker than his vessel's. who does that wretch think he is, putting his hands on you?

you're not his to touch.

"give me control," sukuna growls, his mouth appearing on yuuji's cheek.

"and why would i do that?"

"so i can rip his heart out and gift it to her since he seems so interested in offering his affections."

"duuuude," yuuji begins, somewhat amused. "i don't think she'd be super crazy about you murdering her friend."

"fine," sukuna bites back, well aware that yuuji has a point. "but he can live without his filthy hands, can't he? perhaps i'll pull each arm from his torso—"

yuuji snorts. "you have some serious issues, man."

he can feel sukuna trying to take over and easily curbs the attempt, though that only fuels the king of curses' irritation. "my only issue lies in the fact you're allowing this to happen."

yuuji reaches the door, a bell chiming through the cafe as he pulls it open. "she's a big girl. she doesn't need either of us to dictate what can and can't happen to her."

once you see your boyfriend, your face lights up and you call out his name. you place a kiss on his cheek and snake an arm around his waist in greeting, and the space it puts between you and your friend is enough to keep sukuna from protesting further.

"you two have met, right?" you ask.

"yeah! hey, itadori! it's been a while."

"it has! good to see you, yamada."

"i'd love to stay and chat more, but i have to get going," he states, leaning in to give you a hug which you return. "we should all go out together soon!"

"absolutely not, you deplorable knave—" yuuji slaps a hand to his cheek before sukuna can continue and yamada gives him an odd look.

your eyes widen for a split second and you have to stop yourself from facepalming.

"what'd you say?" yamada asks, sounding a bit hesitant.

"i said absolutely, sounds like an enjoyable night!"

the men exchange a handshake before you and yuuji make your way to a table.

"sukuna, what the hell was that?" you hiss once yamada's out of earshot.

"i don't know what you mean," he responds smugly.

you meet yuuji's eye and he just shrugs his shoulders, but you swear the corners of his mouth twitch upward.

you can't imagine anything good coming from the two of them colluding with one another, but let it go anyway.

opening up your menu, you sigh in defeat. "if you say so."

"what do you mean you'd rather disembowel yourself?" you question the man sitting across from you.

it's becoming more commonplace to see those dark marks adorning yuuji's body during the nighttime hours. you sometimes wonder if he's letting it happen or if sukuna's just getting better at taking over, but you're too nervous to ask.

"do you need a dictionary? there's one over on the shelf—"

"no, asshole. i know what disembowel means! i just don't understand your refusal."

he raises his eyebrows at the obscenity, but doesn't comment on it. "i'm not reading some inane romance novel."

"but brontë's one of my favorite authors!"

"it makes no difference if it was penned by the gods. the thought alone is absurd. can we move on now?"

you don't respond. instead, you cross your arms and stare at the wall defiantly. your face is contorted into an expression that lets sukuna know you're clearly affronted.

"very mature, you silly little girl."

"sorry you find me and my interests so childish," you huff.

"oh, please. that's not what i said."

you continue giving him the cold shoulder, having no desire to argue further, but more than willing to die on this hill.

"fine, don't talk. it's no matter to me," he claims (despite it being the furthest thing from the truth).

as the minutes tick by, he keeps looking at you from the corner of his eye and exhaling dramatically.

eventually, he calls your name in an exasperated tone, and while it makes your heart flutter, you still don't spare him a glance. you just hold the book out for him and to your surprise, he rips it from your grasp.

"you're ridiculous," he grumbles, opening the cover to reveal the first page. "i hate you."

when he glances over to see you're beaming at him despite the insult, he adds (albeit half heartedly), "i mean it, brat."

the two of you sit in silence, each of you reading your respective books. a few chapters in, sukuna comes across the following conversation:

"do you know where the wicked go after death?" "they go to hell," was my ready and orthodox answer. "and what is hell? can you tell me that?" "a pit full of fire." "and should you like to fall into that pit, and to be burning there for ever?" "no, sir." "what must you do to avoid it?" i deliberated a moment; my answer, when it did come, was objectionable: "i must keep in good health, and not die."

to your astonishment, you actually hear him chuckle, but when he looks over and finds your self satisfied smirk, any hint of humor disappears from his face in the blink of an eye. your hand quickly moves to your mouth to stifle a giggle.

"something you want to say?" he baits you.

"nope, nothing at all!"

two nights later, he's already nearing the end of the story and you refrain from commenting about how quickly he's made his way through.

you doubt he'd allow your current position if you had— you're laying on your side, your head resting comfortably in his lap, one hand occupying the space above his knee.

when you asked if it was okay, all he offered you was a clipped, "i suppose."

your hair is splayed across his thigh and your eyes fluttered shut a while ago. when he agreed to this, he didn't realize how distracting it'd be. his gaze flickers between you and the words on the page with embarrassing frequency.

he's decided what you call cuddling is absolutely suffocating. how anyone could actually enjoy it, he's sure he'll never comprehend. he can hardly concentrate on the novel that's right in front of him—

"read to me, 'kuna," you mumble, interrupting his thoughts. it surprises him that you're still awake.

he scoffs. "what do i look like? your personal audiobook?"

"you didn't even know those existed until like a week ago," you laugh. "c'mon, pleaaaaaase."

he stays quiet for a few moments, so you're under the impression he may just ignore your request. as such, you're exceptionally pleased when his voice fills the otherwise still apartment.

you think the sound of his voice is comforting, an idea that would more than likely make him cringe, so you keep it to yourself. after all, you don't want him to stop.

at some point or another, he begins twirling a strand of your hair around his finger whenever he's not turning the page, an action that seems to take place without his noticing.

occasionally he'll pause to ask if you're even listening. it's an odd feeling that blossoms in his stomach when you assure, "mhmm. every word."

as he reaches the second to last chapter, he reads a line that makes you question whether your heart's stopped beating. you're not sure if it's because of the tone of his voice, the words he's imparting, or some mix thereof.

"no—no—jane; you must not go. no—i have touched you, heard you, felt the comfort of your presence—the sweetness of your consolation: i cannot give up these joys. i have little left in myself—I must have you. the world may laugh—may call me absurd, selfish—but it does not signify."

he stops reading, as if he too feels the sense of unease that's invaded the air. against your better judgement, you turn to look at him. his eyes are glued to the page, almost like they're avoiding you, and his jaw is tense.

"my very soul demands you: it will be satisfied, or it will take deadly vengeance on its frame.”

when his gaze finally lands on you, his expression is almost pained. it's a strange contrast to the warm fondness you spot in his eyes.

you quickly push that thought away, however. whatever you believe you may have seen, you're probably just deluding yourself. you know you aren't his least favorite person, but surely he'd never feel even half of that sentiment toward you—

your breath catches in your throat when his hand reaches up, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. he still marvels at the fact you don't shy away from his touch, that you're usually the one to seek out contact with him.

perhaps the story is not as asinine as he expected it to be. rochester presumes jane will find him revolting, yet she still agrees to be with him, even after his selfishness has been made plain to her. after the sins of his past have caught up to him.

no, no, no.

to be so desperate for some woman's approval, or her devotion for that matter, is despicable. rochester's nothing less than foolish and sukuna isn't anything like him.

but you're certainly like jane, aren't you? fearless, passionate, and determined: all things he can't help but find endearing...

gods, what is this turmoil? it's making him feel pathetic and there isn't an emotion in the world he hates more—

you distract him from his internal monologue when your fingers wrap around his wrist and bring his knuckles to your lips. "you okay?"

"of course," he mutters, pulling his hand away. "just trying to get past all the mawkishness."

"really? you think it's that bad?" you question, the frown on your lips igniting that ache in his chest that appears whenever you're upset.

"it's not terrible," he sighs, realizing there may indeed be one thing he despises even more than feeling pathetic. "although i don't understand how jane is so taken with rochester."

you seem to ponder this for a moment before shrugging. "love is weird."

"what a clever analysis."

you slap his chest playfully. "oh, whatever. just keep going, you're almost finished!"

and you're right. he does reach the end of jane eyre that night, but not before you fall asleep on his lap. he closes the book, running a finger down the creased spine and setting it down carefully. it's obvious you've read it several times.

admittedly, he can see why, but he'd be caught dead before he'd ever tell you as much.

left alone with his thoughts, he considers the impossibility of jane and rochester: a charming, headstrong woman and a cruel, arrogant man.

leaning forward, he whispers your name to make certain you're asleep, then places a lingering kiss to your forehead.

"..sweet dreams."

[bluetimeombre]

: ̗̀➛ Call it what you want to

You're an up-coming star, staring in some hit movies like Hunger games Ballad of songbirds and snakes and now Wonka, along the Timothee Chalamet.

[i'm obsessed with my man and just need to ignore the fact he's dating someone that isn't me. anyway, you're an up-coming actress who stared in the new hunger games movie and now you're also staring in wonka, the people love you and maybe, so does a co-star of yours] not proof read. this was very fun to write so maybe i'll do more, if anyone likes it. or just for me

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

liked by... tayrussell, joshandresrivera, tomblyth, sadiesink_, tchalamet & others

yourusername: wonka press tour starts now!

809k likes. 304k comments

user: wait, you're in wonka?!

user: I LOVE YOU!!

user: mother giving us content, as always

tchalamet: now you've posted can you come up and help me

yourusername: no

tchalamet: pls!!!

user: omg she really said no to timothee chalamet, who does she thin she is?

user: slayyyy

user: isn't wonka supposed to suck

tomblyth: from one press tour to another, i see

yourusername: girls got to earn a living

tomblyth: she doesn't let the grass grow

user: say hi to timothee for me!!!!

user: omg how is she getting all the hottest guys in hollywood rn? gurl leave some for us

wonkamovie: 😍😍

balladofsongbirdsandsnakes: 😍😍😍

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

you were flicking through comments by your friends when your phone started to ring, the familiar picture of your co-star flicking up on your phone. quickly, you dimissed yourself from your assistant and took the call. 'yes?'

'I need your help.'

'Timothee, you're old enough to zip up your own jacket,' you tease, leaning on the wall.

'I don't know what jumper to wear, what are you wearing? we'll coordinate.'

you'd opted for something of your own style. a jumper with pinks and blues and a white flowering skirt with a ring almost on every finger. this was only your second big press tour and sitting next to timothee chalamet every day for it was enough to make you nervous. so nervous you woke every morning wondering if you'd throw up. it didn't help you were also surrounded by others you'd looked up to, like olivia coleman and hugh grant. how were you supposed to keep your cool for months. even if now you were considered just as big a star.

'don't you have a stylist for this?' you ask, looking at the crew around, ready to go but waiting for him.

'there's three options and i don't know which one to go for. can't you just come up.'

you could, sure. go to timothee's hotel room and see him probably shirtless. once you'd have dreamt of it, but things were different, now you just didn't have a silly celebrity crush. now he was your co-star and very off limits.

'option two now come on, please.' quickly, you end the call and pick up your coffee, heading to the room where you'd be sat for the next eight hours answering questions with timothee.

you were there first, shaking hands with the interviewer and introducing yourself to her. you took your seat, making little chatter before timothee chalamet walked in, calm, cool and collected. completely different to your flushed and smiling expression.

you watched as he quickly said hello to everyone in the room and greeted the lady who'd be conducting the interview.

timothee turned to you, arms out wide and waiting. laughing, you put your coffee down and stood up, giving him a hug. you shared small pleasantries before he took his seat next to you, shuffling around and settling in. only then did you realise how much your jumpers looked the same, both smudges of similar colours. you blushed more as timothee watched, silently wondering what could make you so red. as if he had no idea what he did to you just by sitting down next to him.

'I have had scrub scrub stuck in my head since seeing the movie,' she- charline, said as you and timothee laugh. 'do you guys have a favourite song you got to perform?'

'I mean, pure imagination was quite a surreal experience. you know, getting to sing something that was so ... iconic, it was-it was a lot of fun. and a lot of pressure, but, in a good way,' said timothee.

'you killed it,' you assure, casually.

'thank you,' he smiled.

'i really enjoyed you've never had chocolate like this number. that was just so fun, the dancing and all,' you say, timothee nodding and agreeing.

'for a moment was fun to, i guess,' added timothee. 'we got to dance.'

you grin at the memory. 'we did.' you remembered the a million takes, timothee singing practically to you while prancing around. it was your favourite scene to shoot because it was such an easy and happy scene. you didn't have to think about it, just held timmy's hand as he twirled you around the place.

'and i know we're here to talk about wonka but i just have to say-' she gestured to you, 'congratulations on hunger games, biggest movie in the world.'

you wave her off, thanking her as timmy claps for you. 'thank you, thank you.'

'i was wondering what was your favourite song to film there on that set and how does it compare to singing on this one.'

ranting about yourself or your achievements was always hard for you. your stardom and come so quickly with hunger games and wonka, so much so you felt like you didn't deserve half of it.

'i mean, for hunger games it was all live. i sang them there and then so that's daunting in itself, um. i loved filming pure as the driven snow, just because i got to- essentially- sing it to tom. it was just him and me and the crew, like for those shots there was no extra's so that was great fun. a special moment. and singing it to him made it a whole lot easier. whereas on this movie, luckily it was all like pre-recorded so, not so daunting. didn't have to sing in front of timothee chalamet,' you say.

he listened carefully to you, seeing your smile at mentioning tom blyth, your co-star from the hunger games. he'd never met the guy, he was probably lovely- from the amount you talked about him. 'you've got a great singing voice.'

'thanks man.'

'this cast is just so insane and obviously you two got close during filming,' says charline, gesturing to the two of you.

timothee nudged you with his head, like he'd done a thousand times before knowing how much you secretly loved it. just like a horse, as had been quoted.

'who's more british, olivia or hugh?'

'hugh, easily,' you say. you loved all of hugh's movies, but you'd never say that to his face.

'you know, i'm gonna go and say you,' says timothee, turning to you.

you drop you jaw, pointing to yourself. yes, you were british, but more so than than the hugh grant seemed impossible. 'me?'

'yea, i mean, hugh grant is like a walking union jack- and i mean that in the best way possible, but you seem so much more like british. you know, wicked sense of humor and the charm and- you love london,' he pointed out.

'i do love london,' you agreed.

'did you have fun filming in england, timothee?' she asked.

they want on and on to talk about filming the movie, answering questions in depth and it was sure the two of you had great answers, listening intently together and everyone could tell. your chemistry was there, your smiles and answers together were almost so perfect it was like it was practiced and the fans ate it up!

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

liked by... zendaya, mtv, kyliejenner, yourusername, wbpictures & others

tchamalmet: WONKA!!! coming soon

tagged: yourusername

1.1m likes, 609k comments

user: he posted! he posted!

user: we are getting FED

user: i just know this is all yourusername influence

user: not kylie liking...

user: statistics! statistics!

liked by yourusername

yourusername: bring back little timmy tim!

yourusername: out of all the pictures you chose that one

user: anyone else think her and timmy are getting too close

user: like fr she stealin my man

user: i love them!!!

user: i swear something is going on with her and tom blyth

user: she's just like us!

user: LOVE!!!!!

user: her and timmy >>> him and kylie

user: plssss, i love kylie

user: is wonka a musical

user: TIMMY I WANT TO HAVE YOUR CHILDREN!!!

user: fave bob dylan song?

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

liked by... tomblyth, rachelzeglar, tchalamet, hunterschafer, zendaya & others

yourusername: ballad of song birds and snakes is number one movie? more like i'm the number one most grateful person out there for this chance and being trusted with my girl lucy-grey!!! thank you, thank you, thank you!!

tagged: tomblyth

1m likes 477k comments

tomblyth: lots of love my dear !

user: pls the second picture was so unncesary she just wanted to post it

user: MOTHER

user: parents are parenting

user: I LOVED THIS FILM

user: tom blyth is honestly so hot like wtf

rachelzeglar: my luv &lt;3

yourusername: omg my gf everybody!!!!

joshandresrivera: funny how you don't post a picture of me

yourusername: it's funny because i don't like you

joshandresrivera: tomblyth you gonna let her talk to me like that??

tomblyth: she's the boss

user: how is she so amazing in everything

user: wonder how she got this job? she's literally as plain as a plank

user: hi!

user: the film was insane, i'm obsessed

user: i need this film injected into my veins

user: she's so good at singing, get her on broadway!!!

tchalamet: very proud

yourusername liked tchalamet's comment

user: why would you post the second pic unless they're clearly dating

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

user: pls why do i ship them so hard!!

user: lol it looks like he's just refusing to answer questions without her

user: is nobody gonna talk about how they were basically wearing the same jumpers?

user: no because i thought the exact same thing

user: someone pointed it out in an interview and timothee said it was 100% planned, they're so cute

user: doesn't he have a girlfriend?

user: isn't she with tom blyth? they look like they're together?

user: they haven't confirmed it

user: they don't need to did you see her post on instagram?! it was all just him

user: no but the way she's just constantly blushing around him

user: so would you if you were sat next to the timothee chalamet

[norikuna]

THAT'S SO TRUE — toji fushiguro

welcome to the christmas tour ! take a seat in section (e) and let the show begin !

prologue. → you vowed to yourself that you would rock toji fushiguro's world as a new year's resolution. but it's christmas eve already, and the year is almost over. by hook or by crook, you're gonna that gorgeous, buff older man in your bed tonight.

want to try sitting somewhere else ? take a look at the ticket chart again !

pairing. toji fushiguro x afab!reader (reader uses she/her pronouns)

warnings. reader has never been chill a day in her life, áge gáp, dílf!toji, big díck toji (ofc), voyeurísm (sorta implied), másturbátion (f), jealous sèx, reader watches toji through binoculars, they match each other's freak, creámpíe, reader gets called 'slutty' and 'doll', orál (m and f. receiving)

word count. 9.4k! song inspiration. that's so true — gracie abrams

a/n. incredible art by sakimichan 🍃 i had so much fun writing this 😁 reader is an adult!! i imagined toji to be 35-ish, and reader to be 22...? its christmas day for me so i'm a tad late 😩

mp3. bet you're thinking 'she's so cool' kicking back on your couch, making eyes from across the room. wait! i think i've been there too!

if your friends knew what you were up to right now, they'd skip the intervention and go straight to dragging you to the nearest police precinct.

forget a lecture, they would slap a pair of handcuffs on you first, citing charges of being horny to the first degree.

officer! she just can't keep it in her pants!

but did you care? not in the slightest.

you adjust the blinds, nudging them just enough to angle your binoculars a little lower. focus sharpened, lens zoomed in, and there he was. the object of your totally healthy, not-at-all unhinged plan.

the target in question? toji fushiguro.

your next-door neighbour, who also happened to look like he'd walked straight out of a naked biker calendar. leather jacket snug over his broad shoulders, a frame built for sin, and pectorals that were so sculpted, you often dreamed of bouncing walnuts off them. just to see if the nuts would crack.

months ago, you had made a new years resolution to yourself that you wouldn't end this year without bagging the man at least once.

yet here you were on christmas eve, a few days shy of the year's end, still plotting and scheming like a bond villain on how you could charm the socks right off toji fushiguro.

but you feared that tonight was beginning to deliver a cold, harsh slap of reality.

your heart suddenly gives an undignifed lurch as toji swings off his motorcycle in one fluid motion. but your smirk — yes, you had been smirking and you wouldn't deny that, vanished the moment your binoculars caught sight of her.

right behind him, a woman dismounted with all the grace and mature confidence that you wished you could summon on a good day.

you twist the focus knob, an unfamiliar figure sharpening into clarity. tall, polished, probably closer to toji's age rather than yours, and way too pretty for your scheming, heinous comfort.

she's hooking her arm through his like they did this all the time, and her cherry-sweet smile beams up at him like he'd hung the damn christmas lights himself.

and then, then! she leans in to press a kiss to his cheek, casual as a snowflake fluttering onto the concrete below.

your chest tightens oddly, though whether it was from jealousy or sheer mortification, you couldn't tell. and you didn't want to tell.

toji fushiguro, for his part, didn't seem fazed, at least, not outwardly. he turns his shaggy head away, smiling faintly with that gruff and polite expression he sometimes wore when someone cornered him into small talk.

not that it mattered. you couldn't stop the frown that tugged at your lips, watching the pair disappear out of view, the motorcycle keys still dangling from his thick fingers.

you sigh, setting the binoculars down with a little more force than necessary. tonight was supposed to be your night, the grand finale where you capped the year off with a big win in the shape of this six-foot-two man, with green eyes that could strike you dumb.

and you had even planned ahead! you'd been certain that there wouldn't be any pesky interruptions, particularly of the pint-sized variety.

not that you had anything against megumi fushiguro, he was a good kid — if a little unnerving with that brooding energy he carried around like a hefty backpack.

but still, you'd never really spoken to him much. call it morals or basic decency, but dragging a clueless kid into your schemes just felt a little wrong.

so when you had overheard toji casually mentioning that megumi was out for a sleepover with some friend, something about how nice it would be to have a night for himself, you had taken that as a sign from the universe. a green light.

fate herself waving you through the doors to make your move.

except now, traitorous fate had also thrown you a curveball in the form of the older, mystery woman who had been clinging to toji's back on the motorcyle. all expensive burgundy fur, and a darling blowout that was way out of a college student's pay cheque.

still, you're not the kind of woman who folds at the first sign of trouble. no, you think, squaring your shoulders. who would you be if you gave up now? perseverance is the backbone of triumph, or something like that.

the walls of this apartment are criminally thin, and you trust that the muffled thuds coming from next door are none other than toji fushiguro leading his...date up the stairs and down the hallway. the metallic jingle of keys confirms it, a sound that sends a pang of irritation prickling beneath your skin.

your gaze shifts to your desk, to the corkboard cluttered up with polaroids of your friends, random university flyers, and pinned up lecture schedules that you never follow. you press three fingers to your lips, in a respectful and solemn kiss, before tapping your photograph of aaron hotchner, in a promise for the near future.

"i won't give up, hotch," you murmur, the solemn, printed face of thomas gibson crossing his arms — gazing back at you, a beacon of motivational determination.

and with that, you grab a notepad and the first pen you can find, even though it's half-dried and it can barely write. you flip the pages open, and begin dotting down your back-up plan on how to score toji fushiguro tonight.

you're pretty sure it's been an hour since you started furiously scribbling on paper. five dried-out pens and a mountain of crumpled drafts later, each one titled with variations of how to get toji fushiguro in my bed, your notepad is starting to look like a pathetic manifesto.

you sip idly at your grape soda, the fizzy sweetness staining your tongue a violent purple. and listen, to be clear, you're absolutely a feminist. truly. you're not the type to believe in pitting women against each other. that's messy, unsophisticated, and frankly it's far beneath you.

but sadly, here's the other thing. desperate times call for desperate measures. and as much as you hate to admit it, toji fushiguro, your brooding and hulking neighbour with shoulders that eclipse the sun, has your resolve teetering right on the edge. the wanting and lusty human spirit is unbreakable, and the idea of losing is as appealing as licking sandpaper.

the sound of a low thud breaks through your plotting, as you drop the end of the pen out of your mouth. your ears perk up at the faint creak of a door opening. you recognise the gruff voice, muffled through the thin walls.

"damn heater's out again. 'm just gonna go check the switch downstairs."

uh-huh. that's what you thought. this was just act one of the stage play.

see, about forty five minutes ago, inspiration had struck. you'd realised you needed to get toji out of his apartment, and given his bear-like simplicity: eat, sleep, grumble, repeat, it wasn't exactly that easy.

but every man needed his rest, and no man could rest on christmas eve when the snow was sticking to the window pane from the cold.

so, you had snuck downstairs and flipped the heater's breaker to his apartment off, leaving the rest blissfully untouched. setting an ideal trap for the vast man.

you crack your door open, just enough to watch him lumber off towards the left staircase.

it's one of two routes down to the basement, and the fastest, if you hadn't intercepted fate. about twenty minutes into your plan, you had grabbed a handful of out of order signs (printed with comic sans, the true villain of typography) and plastered them halfway down the left flight of stairs.

you dart towards the right staircase, your knee-high socks skimming the concrete steps in a frantic descent. as you reach the halfway point, you hear the telltale grunt of a frustrated toji.

"damn management can't even warn people about closures," he's muttering to himself, heavy footsteps falling in line behind yours.

right on cue. by the time he reaches the basement, there you are, innocently peering at the big, clunky switchboard. like it wasn't you who had just broken into it to render toji's apartment a freezing chill.

your sweater's been strategically tugged off one shoulder, and you're pretending the icy air isn't slicing at your bare legs, left exposed by the shortest pair of shorts you own.

"what brings ya down here?" toji grunts, his voice low and rough like gravel underfoot.

you count it as a small victory when his eyes sweep over you, slow and deliberate, before the older man coughs and shifts his focus back to the switchboard. you sidle closer under the guise of curiosity, so close that the fabric of your sweater brushes his arm. the steel biceps flexing under the tight, black fabric of his tee.

"i don't know," you sigh, feigning innocence with a touch of melancholia, "it jus' got so cold of all a sudden." you cross your arms over your chest, pretending to shiver just enough to catch his attention without looking concerningly ill.

toji glances down at you briefly, his brow furrowing, "mhm. yeah," he mutters, before turning back to the labyrinth of switches, "can't believe how these clowns the place."

you watch as the man leans in, studying the panel like it's some kind of ancient artefact. his expression is set in that serious, furrowed way men always get when faced with the unfamiliar terrain of household maintenance.

cute. almost.

you, of course, had done your homework. a quick google search of the model number earlier had led you to the manual, and you already knew it was the purple switch on the top right. but why rush, eh? if toji fushiguro wanted to play handyman, who were you to deprive him? especially when you needed a little more time to set the mood, to give him some ideas.

every time his fingers hovered closer to the correct switch, you leaned in, cutting him off with casual chatter. enough to have the man's eyes drop over you once more, before flicking away before he could break the bounds of propriety.

"so, are you doing anything tonight?"

"what?" his gruff tone reverberates through the dim basement, bouncing off the concrete walls.

you flutter your lashes at him, meeting his sharp, verdant gaze, "i mean, it's christmas eve. got any fun plans?"

he straightens slightly, his hand falling from the panel as he looks right at you, "nah. just stayin' in." but toji tilts his head and throws the question back at you, "why aren't you?"

"why aren't i, what?" you tilt your head to mirror the man, feigning confusion, "staying inside? i was, but then i got cold. y'know, busted heater and all."

toji exhales through his nose, and you watch mesmerised as the scar twitches over his lip, "no, doll. i mean, doing something fun. you're young. got your whole life ahead of you to be old and boring."

the faintest flicker of a genuine smile tugs at the corner of your glossy lips. if only he knew. you clear your throat, "i guess," and you shrug, the movement subtle, but just enough to let your sweater slip a little further off your shoulder, "it's just not my...taste."

your gaze trails over him, deliberate but not obvious enough to tip the scales out of your hand. you hope that you're not wide-eyed taking in how his broad shoulders ripple, almost tense?

"ah." toji fushiguro, everybody. a man of great wit, and even greater vocabulary.

he's tapping a knuckle against the switchboard, frowning at the rows of colourful levers like they've personally insulted him. you take the moment to edge a little closer, peering up at him with a deliberate and doe-eyed expression.

"need help?" you ask, voice sweet enough to break through teeth.

toji snorts, "you? help me with this?" he glances at you sideways, one thin brow quirking up, "i've got this, doll," but he seems to sober up, remembering that he does not have this, "unless you even know what this thing does?"

"of course i do," you shrug, feigning nonchalance, "i'm pretty good at flicking the right switch."

and what a sweet, untainted victory when toji's movements still. he doesn't tear his gaze away from the switchboard, but his hands pause and you see his lips twitch, "uh-huh."

"you should probably head back upstairs," he says gruffly, his tone almost concerned, "basement's freezin' and you're gonna catch a cold in, uh," and toji's gesturing vaguely at your thin ensemble, clearly trying to be polite.

"i know, but i was just comfortable in this," you run your hands, pretending to tug at the hem of your shorts. ignoring how the goosebumps are practically beating your ass right now, and you're about an inch of a temperature drop away from hypothermia.

toji fushiguro mutters something under his breath, something about attitude and young people these days, but he doesn't move away when you sidle back closer to him again, the faint brush of your arm against his making the great man stiffen up again.

"so, no christmas eve plans at all?" you press again, cocking your head, "not even a little festive cheer? eggnog?"

"festive cheer?" toji scoffs, finally pulling the purple switch as the low hum of the heater continues to chug away. dusting his hands off like he's just solved a national crisis, like you couldn't have solved that ten minutes ago, "i'm not big on christmas."

"that's tragic," you sigh, "and i was gonna ask you to stand with me under the mistletoe." your tone is teasing, light enough to deflect any serious questions but you let your lips form a soft pout. just enough to teeter on the edge of innocence. the faint, almost-whine in your tone is carefully calibrated: harmless on the surface but laced with the kind of undercurrent that can plant ideas in a man's head.

"ya' got jokes tonight," toji's gaze lingers, a little longer than necessary. you don't miss the way his shoulders draw tighter together. how his jaw ticks, but the real prize for you is when his hand slides up to rub the back of his neck, fingers kneading at the thick muscle, like he's trying to shake something loose.

the corner of your mouth twitches again, oh. you've got him now.

"imagine going through life, so lonely on christmas. that's gotta do something to a person." you're so not seeing the pearly gates, but you've come to terms with that.

"yeah? like what?" toji huffs.

you tap a finger against your chin, pretending to think, "well. for starters, it probably makes you very grumpy."

"tch, 'm not grumpy," toji rasps, but his tone says otherwise, as he runs a hand through sleek strands of dark hair, "yer' something else, you know that?"

"i've been told."

tojo shakes his head again, and you don't miss the faint smile tugging at the corner of his thin mouth, "alright, kid. time to head back up before you freeze to death down here."

time's up on this charade. you puff out a breath, your coy bravado dimming just a little bit, "fine, fine. but i'm not a kid, y'know."

toji's green eyes flick to yours, like chips of sea-glass as he holds your gaze, before turning back towards the stairs, "yeah. i know."

you follow him up in silence, the soft patter of your socks suddenly too cold on the pavement. at the top of the steps, toji pauses, glancing back at you with an unreadable expression, "get some rest. and make sure no-one's messin' with the switches."

"why would they do that?" you say, a touch too quickly.

"no reason," toji says, just as abruptly, stepping back as though putting physical distance between you two would help, "but it's all fixed now. go on, back to your apartment."

you blink, momentarily thrown by the sudden shift, "what? no thanks for keeping you company."

"thanks," toji fushiguro says flatly, but his gaze isn't unkind.

"wow. don't get too sentimental on me now."

"goodnight," the man deadpans, swinging your door open for you, just for good measure. before turning on his heel, and heading for his own room.

back to the drawing board.

toji fushiguro is convinced that the universe has it out for him. some karmic retribution is surely circling overhead, just waiting to strike. because really, what other explanation is there for his constant predicaments?

his life had been fine, a little lonely, sure, but manageable. until you moved in next door, perhaps sometime last year. sweet, maddening, entirely too pretty for your own good.

what the hell was toji supposed to do with that?

he's still rubbing the back of his neck, pushing open the door to his apartment. his date, right, was still perched on the old couch, scrolling through her phone. she's looking up at him when he entered, arching a brow.

"hey, you were gone for a while," she lightly comments, tucking her phone away.

"yeah, uh, sorry 'bout that," he mutters, crossing to the kitchen, "this place has a habit of breaking down on me."

shui had set him up with this woman, insisting that toji needed to crawl out of his self-imposed hermit hole and start living a little.

"you're not getting any younger, fushiguro," shui had snarked, as if toji didn't already feel every year weighing on him. so, fine. he'd agreed, figuring one dinner with a woman way out of his tax bracket wouldn't kill him.

and to be fair, the date had been...fine. the woman was attractive, sharp-witted, and she didn't pester him with inane questions. the kind of woman that most people would be thrilled to spend an evening with. but toji just couldn't shake the strange emptiness that had settled in his chest.

still, he had told himself to quit overthinking. maybe he was just out of practice. or maybe shui oddly had a point, and he needed to stop letting life pass him by. so, he'd invited her back to his place, hoping another glass of wine and small talk would lead one things into another.

what he hadn't counted on was running into you in the basement. how your light voice would replay in his head, that teasing lilt burrowing under his thick skin and leaving him restless.

tojo shakes his head, reaching for a couple of glasses and the half-decent bottle of wine that he kept stashed away from megumi's prying hands. kid was at that age where he was too damn curious for his own good about everything. his brain, however, was still stuck in the basement, circling around you.

what the hell had you been doing there anyway? sidling up to him all close, sickeningly sweet perfume or some shit that made his jaw clench. batting long lashes at him, and teasing him about mistletoe kisses.

civility. decency. that was the bare minimum that he could give you, wasn't it?

"you've got quite the collection of, uh, things up there," his date's voice pulls him back, gesturing to the open cabinet with a polite smile. toji glances at colourful boxes of cereal, and the little plastic bowls with cartoon animals splashed all over them. megumi's favourites.

"yeah," he says gruffly, pouring the wine, "got a kid. just the one."

she nods, taking the glass he hands her, "that's sweet. how old?"

"six. he's...not here tonight."

before his date can reply, catch the insinuation that he's thrown out, another sound filters through the paper-thin walls. a giggle, a sweet laugh followed by a voice he knows all too well.

"i know, right! he was like, totally into me!"

toji freezes, the wine bottle hovering mid-pour over his second glass. he sets the bottle down with a little more force than necessary, pretending not to notice the way his date glanced toward the wall, clearly having heard you too. fantastic. as if the universe hadn't done enough to torment him today.

his teeth ground together as your voice floated through again, a singsong lilt that made his chest thump, and irritation flare all at once. what were you even talking about? who the hell was 'totally' into you?

"uh-huh," you had been laughing, your voice carrying through the wall, "and then, he asked me out!"

toji's grip tightens on his glass, wondering who on earth managed to pull you into a date. wait, why did he even care?

his date seems oblivious to the internal war raging inside of him, taking a sip of her wine and smiling, "so, what's your son's name?"

"megumi," he mutters, absently, eyes flicking through the wall like he could see through it if he squinted hard enough. ugh, what an awful thing to think. what was wrong with him? acting like freak, not able to mind his own business.

his date's laugh is soft and polite, "that's cute."

cute, yeah.

you thought it was cute too, didn't you? he remembered the way your eyes lit up when megumi toddled after you once in the hallway, clutching one of his ridiculous animal-print bowls.

"oh, what did i say?" your voice drifts again through the walls, following by a light laugh, "look, he was cute and all, but he just wasn't my type."

toji rubs a hand down his face, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of his noise. you're just his neighbour. you're entitled to have your fun, to live your own life. that doesn't mean he has to like hearing about it.

meanwhile, his date sits stiffly on the couch, politely pretending your voice isn't bleeding through the walls like a radio she can't turn off. she's doing a commendable job of feigning disinterest, but toji knows it's killing what little momentum the evening had.

he clears his throat, trying to salvage things, "so, uh, got any plans for tomorrow? something fun for christmas?" great, now he's stealing lines from you.

her smile tightens, polite but clearly wavering, "just lunch with my family. my sister's bringing her kids over."

toji nods, grasping at conversational straws, "that's nice. i've got, uh, a brother. and an annoying little cousin."

"right," and she's glancing up at the clock, her patience thinning faster than her smile.

"oh, come on," your voice pipes up again, clearer this time, "you know my type's never been those kinds of guys. i like the big, rough ones." there's a pause, and then you laugh, the sound both coy and infuriatingly knowing, "yeah, like a bit older. all muscles."

toji freezes, trying to pretend like his insides aren't doing the tango. his date, on the other hand, has clearly reached her limit. her lips purse into a tight smile as she stands, smoothing her dress, "look, you've been nice and all," she says, voice clipped, clearly cutting off the chances of a second date, "but i really should get going."

toji fushiguro doesn't argue. doesn't even try to stop her. just watches as her expensive-ass coat swings off his couch, her heels clicking toward the door and her figure vanishing down the hallway.

he slouches back on the couch, arms sprawled wide, feigning a calm that he doesn't definitely feel. in truth, he's seconds away from keeling over, his chest tight and his pulse betrays him.

"huh?" your voice filters through the paper-thin walls, questioning and laced with mirth. the sound sends a shiver down his spine, and down somewhere else, "oh, my neighbour? toji, yep, that's him!"

his head jerks up so fast he nearly gives himself whiplash, eyes boring into the wall like he can will it to dissolve. tch, he's being such a dog. his ears are straining, sharp and unreasonably hopeful.

"yeah, he's so perfectly my type. tsk! yes, of course, i wish he'd just...yeah. anyway. but," you sigh, a dramatic exhale, "but i just don' think he's into me."

toji freezes, as heat floods his face, creeping down his neck and into the collar of his shirt. there's a traitorous clench in his groin as his stomach flips in a way that's both exhilarating and completely unwelcome.

the truth — shameful and complicated as it is — is that he is very much into you. has been for months. and it's getting worse.

every time you lean into him with those wide, sparkling eyes, every time you tease him with some playful jab or brush your fingers against his arm like it’s nothing, it carves a little deeper into his self-control. you're sweet, bright, always full of questions and comments that manage to sound innocent and maddeningly suggestive all at once.

but there's a prickling shame that comes with it, too, a harsh voice in the back of his head that tells him to grow the hell up. he's a grown man, for crying out loud.

a grown man with a kid who needs him, who already has enough on his plate without the complication of a pretty little neighbour who could turn his world upside down without even trying.

what could he offer you, anyway? you, who barrels down the hall in the mornings with an oversized bag bouncing against your hip, always late for something important, always in motion.

your life is big and full and bursting with possibilities. his, by comparison, feels...worn. quiet. comfortable in a way that makes him feel ancient when he looks at you.

still, it doesn't stop toji from looking. or from thinking things he shouldn't, like how your laughter lights up even the dullest days. or sometimes, in the quiet hours of the night, pulling his hard cock out to tug on it, imagining your doe-eyes peering up at him.

toji rubs a hand over his face, groaning quietly into the crook of his elbow. what the fuck is he supposed to do with this?

you're starting to lose precious steam. for all your big talk about not giving up and winning toji over, the spark of confidence that got you this far is starting to sputter out. the lines that you'd carefully scribbled in blue ballpoint ink, a full script of fake laughter and coy quips begins to feel...a little tragic.

half an hour of pacing your apartment and pretending to be on the phone has left you feeling deflated, and painfully self-aware. your voice has grown too practiced, too rehearsed and you're starting to wonder if you even sound convincing anymore. and for all you know, toji fushiguro didn't even hear one word of it.

he's probably in there, sprawled on his couch, having a great time with his date. maybe laughing, maybe pouring wine, or maybe he's taken her to bed. fuck, your stomach lurches as your insides flip for no good, kind reason.

you glance at the cooling grape soda on your nightstand, still fizzing lazily in its can, and suddenly feeling quite awful. disgusted with yourself for the plotting, the dramatics, and the fact that it hasn't paid off in the slightest.

with a sigh that's more frustrated and resigned, you flop back onto your bed, ignoring the slight bounce of the mattress as you land. your apartment suddenly feels too hot, the air sticky and stifling.

you kick off the blanket that's bunched around your ankles, and you lie sprawled on top of the quilt. head tilted back against the pillows as you take in the dull hum of the light fixture and the occasional creak of the pipes.

with a despondent sigh, you find yourself half-heartedly parting your legs — maybe to entertain some false fantasy instead. you could have gone out, maybe really lived a little, just as toji had suggested.

you roll down the waistband of your shorts, pulling at the soft, elastic band. just tugging them down enough so you can trail your hands over the flesh of your thighs. yeah, you were that morose right now.

perhaps, you should have accepted the invites to all those christmas parties. you could have dolled up a little, grabbed a sweet drink or two on the house, fallen into the strong arms of a stranger?

you trail your hands over thin, soft skin. nails gently grazing over your mound, as you quickly run your middle finger through your slit, already dewy and moist. you muffle a small whine, because for all your showmanship earlier, you weren't above decency. and these walls were truly that thin.

but it's hard to not buck your hips up into your own touch, working your puffy cunt open with steady fingers. one finger, and then a second, fluttering at a gentle pace. how telling that the mysterious stranger in your fantasies is suddenly far older, with hazy green eyes and charcoal hair falling over his face.

you substitute the slap of your fingers for his, pretending its a rough thumb that pulls at your clit, gently pushing the throbbing hood up to run misshapen circles over the bundle of nerves.

"hah," you try to gnaw at your lower lip, keeping your mouth shut, as you're desparate for the creak of your bed frame to not carry over into the apartment next door, "t-toji, please."

there's a faint thud from next door, like someone has just hit their head. but you can hardly register it in your own mind. shuffling whines leaving your lips, as you use your fingers to stretch out your slick, sodden walls. getting faster, and faster with each piston-like gesture to curl the pads of your fingers up. searching, keening around for that rough spot that makes you squeal.

your eyes are fluttering shut, lashes falling against your cheek as your jaw tightens, heartbeat beginning to race as you heave for air, back arching up as you use your other hand to furiously flick over your clit, building up a steady ache in your wrist that you ignore, "ah, ah, toji, r-right there, fuck, 'm close."

each press of your finger against the walls of your entrance results in a large squelch echoing through your ears, getting closer and closer to that devastating peak, all the while as hallucination-toji snickers down at you and —

"hey!"

and just like that, your long-awaited orgasm, your beautiful climax, well. she disappears with nary a goodbye. your eyes snap open, heart hammering as you blink up at the dull ceiling. your hand is yanked away from your cunt, the cool air suddenly hitting the slick that's coating your fingers. your mind stutters, scrambling for clarity as an all-too-familiar voice cuts through the quiet.

"hey! c'mon, doll. don't have all day."

toji. toji fushiguro. oh, shit.

the panic rises quickly, what are your options? dive out the window and hope that you land on your feet? or fake an illness so convincing that you convince him that's contagious so he leaves? you consider it for a moment, but something else takes over. far more brave, or just reckless and lust-addled. you pull yourself upright, tugging your shorts back up. you shift your sheets, making sure that the dark, translucent patch is covered.

you pad towards the door with the air of a man marked for execution. when you swing it open, you're met with a red-faced toji. is he flushed?

you drop any cute pretense, and instead, lock your petulant gaze on his chest, straight up with the no eye-contact rule. it gives you a real, shameless good look at those heavenly sculpted pecs.

"what do you want?" you ask, voice as flat as you can possibly manage. but you're keenly aware of that mirror-gloss still coating your hands, and you wonder if its too obvious to scrunch your fingers in your sweatshirt. gross, someone get you out of here. the misery of your own making.

toji stands there, entirely dumbounded, and you notice the flush creeping up the peachy tan of his neck, a shade deeper than usual, "what do i want? what do you want?" he says, his voice rock-rasp.

you swallow thickly, ignoring the addled scent of leather, musk and something far more faintly addictive, "i have no idea what you mean."

toji huffs, obviously amused, before mimicking your voice with exaggerated sweetness, "oh, toji, please. right there, toji." he's mocking you, and your skin burns with the recent memory of that exact tone.

you consider for a split second if you can just hand him your lease tomorrow morning and call it quits. but then, toji continues, "y'know these walls are thin, right?"

you cross your arms, trying to steady yourself, ignoring how your poor cunt clenches with the faint memory of her ruined orgasm, "really? i had no idea."

toji mirrors your actions, his arms folding, but the effect only pushes his pecs up, and you try not to get distracted. but it's hard, very hard, "don't get all smart with me now. been hearing you giggle all evenin' and being all slutty."

"thought you had a date," you mutter, the act of playing pretend has long since passed and you're too far gone now to pretend. you scowl up at toji, meeting his gaze head-on, feeling your heart race as his eyes narrow and his pink lips part slightly. you can almost feel the urgent heat of his gaze dragging over your hand, your damp fingertips.

"how'd you know about my date? suddenly real concerned for me?" toji tilts his head, voice laced with infuriating amusement, and you fight the urge to lash out, to throw yourself into him and kiss him fuckin' stupid. instead, you dig in your heels, staying put.

"no, i'm not concerned," you stutter, floundering for a reason, "i'm just, well —"

"who asked you out?" toji cuts through your flickering thoughts, an undercurrent of something sharper in his tone.

"huh?"

"who was it? the one who isn't your type?" toji fushiguro says this all so casually, making your stomach flip. so he had been listening, he heard every word of you flouncing around your room.

you swallow hard, ignoring the sudden fluttering in your chest, "why? you jealous?" the words spill out before you can stop them, you raise an eyebrow, feeling a small victory in the way his priggish expression falters just slightly, "just go back to your date, fushiguro."

"gettin' real bold now," he murmurs, and you realise just how close the two of you are. how you can feel his body heart radiating off him. the tension between you is suffocating to say the last, and you can't decide if you want him to step back or push closer. he doesn't give you a chance to answer.

"thanks to your pretty antics, she sent herself packin', and now i'm all on my lonesome."

"how sad for you," and you suddenly curl your lip, "get a vibrator."

toji's maw drops open for a split second, before he shakes his head, "you first. don't know how you were doing all that without one," and he nods to your hand, "and because i wasn't hearin' much else."

something bold and red-hot comes over you, egged on by the damp sticking to your thighs, "want a visual demonstration?"

you barely have time to form a coherent thought before toji moves, a low growl rumbling in his barrel-like chest as he surges forward. his hands, large and calloused and warm, cup your face with surprising gentleness, though the intensity in his gaze leaves no room for doubt. then, his lips crash against yours, rough and unrelenting. the faint scrape of the scar cutting across his mouth sending a shiver through you.

it's not careful, it's testing and tasting. as if he's waiting for you to push him away. but oh, you're not going anywhere. not when his kiss is setting your nerves alight, and sending your heart into a dizzying free fall. merry christmas to you, indeed.

you respond in kind, just as desperate, your hands flying up to clutch at his shoulders. the solid, hefty weight of toji beneath your fingers grounds you, even as the world tilts on its axis.

"ohh, look at you," toji all but purrs, pawing his hands over your back, your waist, settling over your hips as he pushes you further into your apartment. a strong arm stretching out to slam the door closed, tugging you further in. it seems he's too needy to even reach the bed, and you whine as you're shoved with your back to the wall. his hand coming up to make sure you don't quite slam in with too much force.

toji's lips are practically meshed to your own, and he's already pulling at the waistband of your shorts again. just as you were doing earlier, and you shudder, feeling thick fingers run along your hips.

"s-shit," toji gasps, "if ya' don't want me to —"

you groan, "no, n-no. want you," your voice quivers suddenly as warm fingers press into your soaked cunt. finding home right among your weeping slit. you don't even see where your shorts have been thrown, instead focusing on toji's hazy eyes flickering when they see that you've been wearing nothing underneath. all damn evening.

you don't think you've ever seen the man so dishevelled, heaving for air, as he tries to come to terms with all this, "so when you were in that basement, jus' tryna tease me? is that what you wanted?"

you can't help but laugh, but it's quickly cut off when toji's pressing a hot kiss to the very tip of your clit, it's so feather light and oddly gentle for the gruff man, and it has you keening over.

"that's it, gon' have you all in my mouth. gonna drink ya' up, it's what you wanted, right?" he uses two fingers to press right up against your entrance, parting your oozing folds so he can narrow his eyes at how ready you are for him, "gonna put this all in a cup, and drink it."

"t-toji!" you whine out, feeling your head go all light, and weightless, watching toji play with your core. seeing the older man gape at how you're soaking divots into his fingers, seeing emerald eyes darken with a carnal need to taste you. right now.

"stay still, doll. yeah, just for a sec," toji's hands tighten around your thighs, smacking a fat glob of spit over your trembling core, letting his index finger run the fluid up and down your pussy, a ragged laugh running raw from his smart mouth, "had no idea you were like this, been burying your pretty fingers in your cunt for me before, right?"

you need to get a hit of your own in, before toji fushiguro turns your mind to mush, "you been fisting around your cock for me, then too? bet it super hard when — fuck!"

your words are cut off by the flat pads of his fingertips coming down to deliver a jolt to your throbbing clit, slapping wet arousal around as toji almost glares up at you, but it's softened by lazy fondness.

"watch ya' mouth, doll. 'm wanting to go easy on you tonight."

he's delving straight into your cunt, like a man starved and searching for salvation between your thighs. you feel your mind go blank, that ruined orgasm of the past hour practically gaining a life of her own and cheering once more, coming back to you in embarrassing, full force as it barely takes a few, quick munches of toji's tongue around your sweet pussy.

that's all you need before you're quickly seeing flashing stars, and doing your best to hide the tremble in your thighs. but toji's having none of that.

his laugh is low, mocking and so ruined, "tchh, i really did interrupt ya' didn't i? must have been so close on that bed," but he's not stopping, practically speaking into your stimulated cunt, punctuating his words with buttery kisses, "must have caught ya' on the very edge for her to so ready for me."

"shut u-up."

"your wish? my command," toji snickers, letting your slick, running juices gather over his chin, "and you taste so good. she's a sweet thing, right," and you realise that he's not talking about you, but rather, about your weeping, glossy cunt that's shoved against his sharp nose. you've got the man practically pussydrunk already, and he's hardly gotten a good feel for it.

his hand comes to rest on your bare thigh, tapping it, "now 'm gonna need you to move that, yeah, that's right," you're slotting it over his broad shoulders, and it pulls him closer. and at this point, you don't even care for how you should be embarrassed, should be feeling some shame at having this rugged, older man salivating into your cunt. but there's a shocking glee instead, a quiet victory that's bubbling in your abdomen and already demanding an encore.

his tongue darts out again, this time he's prodding the muscle at your entrance, feeling for that slight resistance made weaker by your fingers earlier, all on your own. the very tip of his tongue in you has you whining again, slapping a hand over your lolling mouth.

"move that hand," toji grunts, punctuating each word with a flick to your clit.

"i c-can't," you gasp, hands finding a home in his clingy, dark strands, "people are gonna hear-ahhh," he's practically mouthing himself onto your pussy, slick strands separating from his lips each time he pulled away for air. the stimulation is making you so much more sensitive, tears springing to the corners of your eyes as the pleasure begins to sting so deliciously.

you pull fingers through ink-black hair, delicate threads that are soft to the touch and feather-light, "h-here, toji," you curl your fingers to angle him perfectly just so, and the burly man is letting you use him, letting you drag his mouth over your slippery folds. just so you can get him to flick his tongue over that spot that makes you cry out so perfectly.

and toji thinks he's never seen a greater sight. he feels a dizzy, heaving tightness in his jeans, that ache building in his groin like he's about to bust his load just from having you fall apart so prettily on his tongue. he ups the pace, making sure to nimbly etch patterns over your heated, swollen clit. he had you right where he wanted you, needed you, and he'd be damned before he'd left you high and dry.

"y'know, 'm thinking about to see this pretty pussy cum again," and toji sounds so proud, taking gratified in the fact that after only one taste, he's already attuned to the signs of your climax. the way your eyes roll back in your head, tears pricking at your eyes in a way that makes his cock ache even harder.

you're unabashed now, rolling your hips into him at a messy pace. letting spikes of white-hot and red-searing pleasure curl up in your abdomen, ready to burst. the entirety of his lower chin is coated in sweet slick, glistening his rough scar, with a clear drop just beading at his lip.

"i-i think 'm gonna, toji, toji - feels s-so —"

toji's mocking you, pitching his raspy voice up again to capture your tone, "oh yeah? 'm gonna, what? what are ya' gonna do? gonna cum, because that's what i'm here for, doll."

he's making a mess now, switching between a cool, short puff of air at your throbbing clit, and letting his tongue push into your gummy walls, unending pleasure until —

"aaand, cum. now, doll."

it bursts within you, swiftly and briskly. so intense that the edges of your visions become clouded with dark spots, a hazy vignette of sheer pleasure from toji's mouth running all over the filthy mess you've created. the gushing climax that must be soaking the scuffed, dark floorboards beneath toji's bent knees.

you don't even realise that you're still babbling his name, entirely lost in the daze of your second orgasm of the night. little cries of toji, like a prayer over and over, mantras that are making toji grin with his gleaming lips underneath you. all as he wraps his arms around your thighs, lifting you with brute strength. all the while not separating himself from your oversensitive cunt, petting soft kisses over your inner thighs, "gorgeous thing, aren'tcha? think ya' give me another one?"

you groggily lift your head as he sets you down on the bed, caging you beneath his considerable frame, "why? don't wanna, uh, stuff my stocking tonight?"

toji's green eyes flicker with mirth, amusement, only punctuated by him rolling them back in faux-disgust, "still runnin' that clever mouth, hah."

you squirm as he pushes his rough hands under your sweatshirt, letting both hands cup your breasts, pinching and twirling fingertips over your nipples, "are you a, mmph, a candy cane, toji?"

he doesn't break his concentration from where he's peeling your top off, "what nasty shit are ya' gonna say now?"

you giggle as he brushes past a particularly ticklish spot, "because i think you're s-sweet, and i wanna suck you."

"fuck."

in the blink of an eye, he's got you perched over on your knees, just as he hovers you. waistband pulled down enough to reveal black boxers, close enough that you could stick your chin out and press a soft kiss to the darkened patch of pre-cum that must be driving toji crazy.

and well, it's big. like it's jingle bells, jingle balls type of big. you drag your eyes from soft, curled black hair at the base of his groin and down an angry, thick red shaft that makes you clench your thighs.

"wan' me to slide over your chimney?"

that gifts you a barked, punched laugh out of the man — toji's got a large hand wrapped around his cock, "c'mon, doll. put that smart mouth to good use then," inching it closer to your lips in silent permission. you part your lips, anticipating the savoury pre that coats your tongue, the translucent fluid dripping from your mouth already.

he's thumbing down on your lower lip, easing the red mushroom tip into your waiting, eager mouth, "hah, think ya' were meant to take me. how's...how's this slutty mouth so perfect?" toji sounds ruined, all rock-salt rasp and his pink lips fall open, and a flush is painted over his tan skin.

you've never been one to give up, ready to angle your head lower, eager to take as much of him as possible into your mouth. but it's a hard stretch, as crystalline tears cling to your lashes, from the tight wrap of the back of your mouth around his throbbing cock.

toji's got his hand wrapped in your hair now, and you can tell that he's trying to be gentle with the strands as he angles your head lower, purring as you take him so well, "f-fuck, a perfect tease, yeah? fuckin' amazing," and you know he's telling the truth, for his cock is practically twitching with a life of its own in your mouth.

you've got this man hazy and drunk, just from sucking you off, and the realisation makes you whine all over again. reaching a hand down in between your thighs to rock up against your clit, all at the same steady pace.

and you know that toji is close, for those sculpted thighs of pure muscle tremble now, the powerful cords quivering as he bucks his hips, fucking your mouth in long, steady strokes. you also realise that you want him to cum, just like this, to have thick white fall from your lips to really seal and sweeten the deal.

but suddenly, you're left popping your lips shut, as toji groans, genuinely groans and shudders, pulling himself out of your mouth with a wet slop!

"don' give me that look, doll," toji chuckles, his chest heaving underneath the sculpted outline of his dark shirt, "can stuff ya' mouth with my cock later, if that's what you want. but 'm really gonna lose it if i'm not in her right now," and he's angling you back to give a loving, gentle pat to your glistening cunt.

rough, calloused hands slide across your bare back with an unexpected gentleness, against the soft curve of your spine as toji presses you into the mattress, so your head is finally resting back against the pillow.

toji's enjoying this, you know that, just from how he's taking your times to pull your thighs apart, sucking in a harsh breath at how your sleek entrance practically winks at him. tugging his hands roughly on his rock-hard cock, all so he can run the fat tip over your clit, making you mewl.

"don't t-tease, toji," you sniffle, feeling the searing tip push up against your clitoral hood, that nerves so stimulated that you're bucking up into him, wanting toji to just put the damn thing in already.

"fuck, doll," toji's taking a small mercy on you, pressing the first inch into your cunt, "i don't 'm the tease here, god knows how long you were jus' jacking off on the other side of the wall. hopin' that i'd come and stuff you like this?"

each inch that's bullying itself into making your head spin, making you wrap arms around his thick neck, just as he presses a soft kiss to the crook of your collarbone, "ya' good, doll? 's not too much for your, hnngh, tight lil' cunt, is it?"

you mewl as he bottoms out, and the stretch is unlike anything you've ever felt before. it's so deliciously big within you, scraping at the inside of your walls, "wan' be on top, toji."

"oh, yeah? lucky that i like ya' this much, givin' me orders and bossin' me around," toji huffs, using thick arms to pull you up instead, flipping you around so he's got you straddling his thighs, split apart so perfectly around his gliding cock.

"mmph, 's much deeper like this, toji," you chase after his lips, running your tongue over the taut, rigid scar that cuts over the right side of his mouth, all while he starts to set a maddening pace, bouncing you like a pretty toy over his cock, swabbing your insides with buttery wads of pre-cum, all sticky and loud in the silence of the night.

"lookin' good, doll," toji's grin can only be described as shark-like, and he's clearly pleased by the echoing squelches from the filthy mess that's dolloped between your groins, the smack of your ass against your thighs, tacky strands sticking to skin.

your chest is pressed against his shirt, and he's so enjoying the view. loves seeing how the swell bounces and hypnotises him, fuck, toji wonders how he's gonna go about the rest of his life away from you and your perfect pussy.

your eyes widen as you glance back, swivelling your head over your shoulder to watch the smacking movement of you against him, at how his thighs hold you up with a steady rhythm, "you're f-fuckin' me really well, toji," and god, he thinks he might just lose it all, then and there. the praise from your dewy lips is rushing straight into his cock, turning his mind to mush as he finds himself on some sort of autopilot.

he needs to cum in you, right now, needs to feel you milk him for all he can give. to stuff your syrupy cunt with mounds of weeping inches, and he's picking up the pace. smacking heavy, laden balls against your skin, so you whine and keen into him.

you're so caught up in the pleasure that you don't even realise toji had said something, words snapping around his teeth as he bounces you over and over, making sure that you ride him good, "w-what?"

"a date, doll," toji groans, smacking your hand away from your clit, just so he can toy with it, faster and faster, "lemme take ya' out properly, what'd ya' say to that, huh?"

"wanna take me o-out?" you all but weep over him, spearheaded on his tip, and raking sharp nails over iron abs, all underneath his tight top, "please, please, t-toji, wanna go out with you! and then," you hiss as he angles himself just right, curved sheath kissing that perfect g-spot deep within you, "and then i wanna do t-this all over again."

it makes toji's hips stutter, "yeah? pretty girl wants me to take her out, parade her around t-town, hah, i can do that. i can do all of that," he's gasping, feeling your tight heat snatch the life out of him. each girthy vein rubbing itself against your tacky cunt, "i can do all of that, and more. jus' lemme show ya', i'll spoil ya' for anyone else. those d-dumb college boys."

and you look at him with such gorgeous, pretty eyes that toji wonders how on earth he's gonna function now, with you so supplanted in his life. on his cock, even. he can taste something faintly sweet and artificial on your tongue, like tangy grape as he sucks on the muscle.

"never wanted a-any of them anyway, jus' you, toji. only you."

toji fushiguro loses his mind, he's cumming and his own orgasm is hitting him so hard that, in the back of his mind, he's concerned at how he's just filling you up. sloppy thrusts slowing down as thick, white translucent spurts paint your insides, right up to where he can see the divot of his tip through your abdomen. where you've taken in him so deep.

"s-shit," toji presses his mouth to yours again, harder, "look what ya' doin' to me, ruining me," and he also feels just a little bad for ruining your sheets, right as your own umpteenth climax for the night hits you, glossy and clear over the black tufts of hair. your pretty mouth pulled open in a wordless cry of his name, but toji doesn't let go. he lets you ride it out, that sticky mess becoming an afterthought for later.

in the hazy glow, toji's eyes wander over the mess of your room. but something else catches his attention, wads of paper flattened by an empty can of soda. he tilts his head, hair falling over his forehead, dampened by sweat. reaching for the paper with his curiosity piqued.

before he can fully read the words, you're suddenly pawing at his arm, practically leaping into him to get in the way, "wait, toji, don't! hey, that's private!" your voice is an odd mix of urgency and embarrassment, nothing like the angelic whimpers from a few minutes ago. you're swatting at his thick hand, trying to grasp at his fingers.

ignoring your protests and squirms, he crumples the paper open and reads the bold, hastily scrawled letters: how to get toji fushiguro in bed.

damn. so you had been responsible for that heater, the staircase, a fake phone call. he always did like them a bit cuckoo-bananas.

toji chuckles darkly, glancing up at you, barely able to suppress a grin. you're flushed, looking like you'd rather disappear into the floor, oddly shy despite the fact that you were so bold, and a minx riding him earlier to hell and back.

"look, i can explain. don't be mad, because i swear —"

toji groans, shifting you slightly in his lap, "mad? doll, 'm hard all over again. how'd you want it this time?"

[taesanrot]

[fruit punch] taesan x f!reader | 11.4k words enemies to lovers, also idiots to lovers, college au, alcohol consumption, mutual pining, smut (making out, fingering f. receiving, handjobs, vaginal sex, protected sex, oral sex), dom!taesan if you squint, y/n is lowkey evil sometimes, they're both just confused and dumb note. ty to the anon for sending this request! i had sm fun writing this~~ sorry it took so long i started uni again and lost all of my free time. hope everyone enjoys broody and grumpy taesan hehe. @onedoornet :P

taesan swears he can feel his blood pumping in his ears every time he sees you. he's come to loathe the feeling, the way his stomach flips and twitches when he hears your voice. his senses heighten and his vision tunnels on you, as if a curtain has been draped over everyone and everything else. his whole body is attuned to you, like he's your fucking puppet.

it's sick, he hates how much he unconsciously worships you. he's reminded of it every time he hears your voice around the corner or your name in conversations.

the reason he despises his affinity for you is because he knows you don't feel the same -- he's almost certain he doesn't even occupy a sliver of your mind.

he knows you're lively and expressive in conversation, at least that's what he's heard. every time he come around and joins conversation with your mutual friends, you suddenly have no words left on your tongue and no thoughts left in your mind. taesan can probably count the amount of times you've spoken to him directly on one hand.

taesan doesn't know what he's done, or what he's doing to put you off of him, but he's been done with your little hate boner against him for a while now. no matter how stuffy his lungs get or how tight his pants get when you seep into his vision or his mind, taesan couldn't care less, not anymore. he rolls his eyes and spins on a heel when he sees you or hears your pretty voice; or he sighs and falls face first onto his pillow when you creep in his solitary thoughts.

he feels like your fucking dog, drooling and falling over you while you can't even look him in the eye.

taesan would say he has a strong resolve and sense of self, and it disgusts him to no end how you weaken and crumble his walls with a simple half-smile, all while ignoring him entirely like he's gum on your shoes.

on top of everything, he had the unfortunate experience of witnessing you verbally confirm your distaste for the boy.

taesan was sifting through the library's aisles, looking for a book to use for his music theory paper. around the corner, you happened to be sitting at one of the study tables, chatting with your friends carelessly, not realizing the topic of your conversation was standing less than 10 feet away.

it wasn't the boy's intent to eavesdrop, but he was in earshot and couldn't escape your conversation if he wanted to. and he wished he did, after hearing the next words that came out of you and your friends mouths.

"formal's coming up soon, who are you taking, y/n?"

"ugh, i don't know who to ask." to his dismay, his ears perked at the sound of your voice.

"what about taesan?" the boy tensed at the sound of his name rolling off your friend, giselle's, tongue. the giggle that left her mouth after made his stomach twist and jolt.

"are you crazy? jesus, giselle. no way!" taesan felt his already bruised heart drop to his ass. you sounded appalled, and your tone only rubbed salt on the boy's already open wound.

there wasn't much left to hear, taesan wasn't keen on sticking around to listen to you guys keep talking shit about him. he spun on his heel and left the library as fast as he could without running. his paper would just have to wait a few hours.

it was a sour memory that made him wince, and it was a scene that he replayed in his head every time he felt his heart race around you.

today was no exception, as taesan walked into the lobby of his apartment complex -- which is unfortunately the same complex that you lived in -- he caught a glance of you in his peripheral, you were studying with friends in one of the lobby's booths, smiling like your usual joyous self. not that taesan would even know; your bubbly side isn't something he's familiar with in the slightest.

once again, to his dismay, the boy felt his heart jolt in his ribcage, the solid thumping a bit more noticeable than before. and like a routine that was ingrained in him, he quelled his outburst of excitement before it could fully bubble to the surface.

forget it, she hates you.

turning his attention to his phone, taesan lazily walked over to the mailroom to pick up a package he ordered a while ago. he then made his way over to the elevator, still paying no mind to his surroundings, scrolling through his friends' recent text messages and posts on instagram. it wasn’t until the elevator doors opened, he walked in, and punched his floor's button that he looked away from his phone; he opted to stare at his shoe instead, back slumping against the wall behind him.

the elevator doors started closing before they suddenly halted and reopened. taesan heard heavy breathing, like someone was running to catch the doors. when his gaze shifted upward curiously, he felt his entire being tense, fingers suddenly digging into the sides of the cardboard box he was holding.

it was you; your hair was fluttering around your face and your backpack was hanging haphazardly off one shoulder, still half unzipped. your cheeks were red and flushed from your hasty entrance and your lips were parted slightly, drawing in soft breaths as your eyes locked with his.

taesan was horrified, and he gave you a quick nod of acknowledgement to avoid having to speak to you. he hoped to god his disdain didn't show across his face -- he was barely confident that he even managed to nod without his neck twitching. in the time it took him to blink, you slipped into the elevator and were now standing 3 feet to his left.

suddenly, it was as if the ceiling of the elevator was the most interesting thing the boy had ever seen, and taesan stared at the patterns in the ceiling tile like his life depended on it, trying to pretend he didn't want to bash his own head in against the wall.

he heard a small beep, likely from you pressing the button for your floor. taesan wouldn't know that for sure though, he was staring so hard in any direction that wasn't yours. he would genuinely rather the floor open up and swallow him whole than glance to his left and be reminded that the girl of his dreams and nightmares was in such close proximity to him.

taesan couldn't tell you how long he's wanted you even if he tried. sometimes he thinks that if the circumstances weren’t so dire between the two of you, that you might be his soulmate.

deep down, it saddened taesan to no end to be in this predicament. here you were, right in front of him with no one else around, and he was frozen like a deer in headlights. taesan wished so dearly that things could be different between the two of you, so that in a moment like this, he could reach out and actually talk to you, get to know you, hold you, rather than cowering in the corner.

and as if some all knowing force heard his thoughts, the elevator suddenly jolted to a stop. taesan didn't even notice until he heard you speak.

"what the fuck?" snapping out of his mental tirade, taesan looked up at the dial above the buttons.

great, it's in between floors. we're fucked.

taesan decided it was time to grow a fucking pair and speak to you for the first time in probably two years.

"we should call emergency services." he wished there was any way for those words to come out his mouth less stupidly. he still hadn't turned to look at you, setting his package and his backpack on the floor and stepping forward to hit the emergency call button.

unceremoniously, the button lit up, followed by absolutely nothing else. sighing, taesan finally turned to look at you. your cheeks were flushed and you looked fearful, taesan wasn't sure if it was because of the elevator or just being stuck with him. if it was the latter he think he might actually just kill himself.

"the line might be busy, i think we're gonna be here for a minute." he sighed out, and your eyes softened.

"it's okay, there's nothing else we can do i guess." you finally spoke, and taesan felt like the sun was beaming directly on him. your attention on him like a spotlight, he felt like he could finally die happy.

"yeah." taesan's lip curled up into a half smile that made your cheeks grow redder, and you watched, still frozen, as he went to sit on the floor next to his stuff. as taesan settled himself into the small corner, crossing his legs, you took it as your cue to place your stuff next to you, sinking down to the floor in defeat.

taesan couldn't say he wasn't confused by you in this moment. for someone stuck in an elevator with someone they avoid like the plague and hate more than anything, you sure did blush a lot. so much, that taesan was starting to think it was his brain messing with him, and that your cheeks weren't truly as flushed and reddened as they looked.

do people blush around people they hate? better yet, am i just fucking delusional? the thoughts ran laps around his brain, making him want to bang his head against the silver elevator doors.

the boy decided that he probably had better and more concerning things to pay his attention to right now, like quelling his increasingly fast heartbeat and his rapid breaths. his heart was beating so loud he thought he can hear the sound reverberating and bouncing on the walls of the small elevator, a space that felt like it was getting smaller and smaller by the minute.

his hands were clammy and shiny and he hoped you didn't notice as he tried to discreetly wipe them against his pants when he reached for his phone from his back pocket.

"i'm gonna call my friend and see if he can get ahold of the front desk." you nodded in agreement, and listened quietly as the line rings.

before either of you could even begin to get your hopes up, the line cut, and a message displayed across the top of taesan's phone screen.

call failed. taesan cursed under his breath.

"fuck, i don't think i have any service in here. sorry." taesan didn't know why he apologized, it's not like he has any control over the building's spotty reception. he didn't look at you as he speaks.

gaze focused on the ground, the boy didn't expect to hear your soft voice chime in the air.

"it's okay, we can just wait it out, we don't have any other choice anyway." you finished your sentence off with a soft giggle. pink blush was still creeping up your neck and tinting your face softly.

accepting his fate of being stuck in the elevator, taesan decided he should at least make use of his time. reaching into his backpack, he grabbed his laptop and a pair of wired earbuds, opening up his current project for his composition class.

he kept one earbud in his left ear, while the other dangled in midair. as the beats played in his ear and reverberated through his skull, taesan finally felt a bit at peace, attention tunnelling in on his laptop screen.

what he didn't notice is the way you curiously watch him work. he typed away at his laptop and mouse pad softly and his focused expression and the unfamiliar contents on his screen piqued your interest.

but what piqued your interest more was taesan. his fluffy hair that moves with him as he nods along to the music that you can't hear, the way his face scrunches up cutely when he squints at the screen to read the tiny font, the way his pink lips fall into a small pout amidst his concentration.

what started out as short side glances that you snuck in from time to time turns into full on staring. being this close to him, your gaze was pulled to him like paper clips to a magnet.

contrary to taesan's belief, you do not hate taesan. while your friends do tease you about him, it's not because you have some weird secret hate boner for him.

in reality, it's because you literally cannot think straight around the raven haired boy. it's embarrassing how quickly your cheeks heat up at a single sight of taesan, heart pumping so fast you think you're going to give yourself an arrhythmia.

you’ve never been the shy type. not that you were constantly bouncing off the walls or anything, but you’ve always thought of yourself as being sociable and having a big personality. you’ve never shied away from strangers and new experiences, feeding off of the energy from the conversation and laughter you elicit through witty jokes and quips.

that alone makes your yearning all the more pathetic. y/n, the girl who could make exciting conversation in a room full of introverted bookworms, getting sweaty palms over some random music major?

it's a feeling you couldn't bear, which is why you avoided it at all costs, especially around your friends. you've also learned the hard way that your friends will not let you hear the end of it when they witness the way you melt around the boy, and you quite enjoy not having to talk about your affinity for taesan 24/7. that's the reason you haven't spoken to him either, you don't even want to begin to imagine your friends' reaction to that.

after a particular incident where belle and shinyu were teasing you about taesan and kim leehan walked by, you were so spooked that you decided the only solution was simply avoid or ignore him at all costs. you could not risk your blabber mouthed friends revealing the fact that you like taesan, especially since you had no idea if he liked you back, or even remembered your name, for that matter.

plus, it helped you avoid the embarrassing experience of going completely nonverbal.

you'd been telling yourself that you'd make a move at some point, but the mere thought of trying to progress things any further makes your stomach twist on itself and makes your chest start to constrict.

but now, with the boy sitting an arms length away and no one else around, you felt like it was fate. yes, there were definitely assignments waiting for you to get around to, but right now you couldn't be more thankful that the elevator is broken.

after staring at taesan and hyping yourself up for a solid 20 minutes, you decided that you can't pass up this chance.

"what are you working on?" your voice was so soft and shaky at first that taesan almost didn't hear you, but you knew he did based on the fact that his fingers halted their swift typing. you watched him move to pause the stream of audio in his ear.

"me?" taesan replied. the second the words leave his lips he regretted it. who the fuck asks that in a room with only two people?

apparently my dumbass.

"who else?" you didn't seem to mind though, giggling at his aloofness. his eyes were wide like a deer caught in headlights, and you wanted to reach over and tug at his hair to feel it underneath your fingertips.

"oh um, just a project for my comp class." he responded, suddenly feeling shy. he felt the familiar speeding of his heartbeat again. why were you suddenly feeling conversive? was he hallucinating again?

"can i see?" you scooted over slightly and lean towards him, pretending to look at his laptop screen. truly, you just wanted to be closer to him, and to keep hearing his voice. you had no idea what he even meant by "comp," but you'd gladly let him ramble about his work if it meant you could hear his low voice again.

"oh, uh sure!" taesan moved slightly closer to you, turning his laptop in your direction so you could see his screen. you knew nothing about the program he's using, but the way taesan's eyes lit up as he began to explain the different sections of the screen made your heart swell.

contrary to you, taesan is more on the quieter side, opting to listen in conversations rather than lead them. however, when it comes to his music, taesan thinks he could ramble on about it for hours. the excitement of talking about his work calmed his nerves, and he found himself eagerly explaining all the different components of his project without stuttering or fumbling with his words.

you nodded along, in a trance at the sound of his voice filling your ears so pleasantly. it got even worse when you looked away from his screen to look at his face. his hands moved animatedly as he pointed at various sections of his composition, but you didn't catch a word, staring at the slope of his nose and the way his lips stayed in a cute little pout even when he was talking so much.

at one point, taesan asked you a question, noticing your slightly dazed look. your head shook slightly as you regained focus on his voice, cheeks heating up in embarrassment.

"sorry, what did you say?" you tried to keep your composure but the way taesan was looking at you was driving you insane.

"nevermind, do you wanna just listen to it?" he said with an easy smile, chuckling at your flushed appearance. you were so adorable, he didn't think he could take it. grabbing the free earbud, he offered it to you gently. you slowly grabbed it, scooching even closer to taesan so the two of you could listen to it together. placing the earbud in your ear, you tried not to think about the space, or lack thereof, between the two of you.

your thigh was pressed against taesan's and the faint smell of his cologne was dizzying. you wanted nothing more than to grab his hand that was resting on the laptop's keyboard and intertwine your fingers together.

as taesan hit play, the sound of various instrumentals and beats filled your ears. even though there were no lyrics, you felt the emotion that taesan had drawn out of him to put into this. he was more than talented, and you were in awe of how well everything came together. as the track came to an end, taesan looked at your face, curious. your lips were parted slightly as you looked at him.

"taesan, that was amazing." you breathed out, turning your face slightly toward him excitedly.

"really? it's still a little rough around the edges, but i think i wanna keep working on it after i turn it in." he explained.

"the project only requires an instrumental, but i really like how this track is going, i've been thinking of adding lyrics and making it a proper song."

"you should, it's really really good." you spoke with a low voice, facing taesan, you were once again reminded of his close proximity and your brain was starting to short circuit again. looking into his eyes, you found yourself spiraling deeper and deeper, not wanting the moment to end. helplessly, your eyes darted down at his lips quickly, so quick that taesan almost missed it.

after watching your gaze jump down to his mouth a third time, taesan decided enough was enough.

“y/n.” he said your name in chillingly low voice. the sound of it rolling off his tongue sent shivers down your spine, and you only leaned into him further. reaching out, he brought his hand to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, waiting for your reaction. you looked up at him with a hooded gaze as you delicately leaned into his touch.

as his hand fully cupped your cheek, your eyes slipped shut, head tilting further into his palm as you waited for him to close the gap.

taesan wanted to burn the sight of you into his memory forever. your long lashes laid gently on the apples of your reddened cheeks, your pink tinted lips slightly parted and calling for him. your cheek squished slightly against his hand and the softness of your skin against his made him feel like he was dreaming.

as he shut his eyes and leaned in, hovering his lips gently over yours, a loud creaking noise abruptly cut through the air.

the elevator suddenly thrummed to life, causing your eyes to shoot open. you let out a yelp as elevator dinged and the doors suddenly opened, your body practically flying across the small room. 

the two of you looked up to see two firemen looking down at the two of you confusedly.

"everyone ok in here?" one of the men asked gruffly, and you nodded your head hurriedly before grabbing your stuff and jumping to your feet.

yep, that was about enough bravery and ambition from you today. reality was setting in quicker than the reddening of your cheeks. 

you and han taesan were about to kiss. and got interrupted by the fucking fire rescue squad. you had to get the fuck out of here.

taesan could barely blink before you rushed out of the confined space, cheeks bright red as you muttered a quick thank you to the firemen.

hitting his head against the back of the wall in frustration, taesan tossed his laptop into his bag and grabbed his package, standing up and frowning at the firemen before walking past them.

"what the fuck was his deal?" the other firemen asked once taesan was out of earshot.

...

it had been a few days since the elevator incident, and while all taesan wanted to do was scream into his pillow while blasting his radiohead playlist on repeat, he was unfortunately a university student with work to do. life goes on, to his dismay.

the only person taesan told what happened was his roommate, kim leehan, who taesan begrudgingly complained to after being asked why his face was so red and why he was grumbling so much. he couldn’t help his grumpiness, could you blame him? he almost kissed the girl of his dreams and was interrupted by a fucking firefighter. 

leehan tried (as he claims, taesan doesn’t believe it for one second) and failed to hold in his laughter at taesan’s conundrum, holding a hand over his mouth as his shoulders shook with amusement. meanwhile, taesan was crashing the absolute fuck out, head in his hands while he crouched on the floor. 

“who did i murder in my last life seriously …” he whined into his hands pathetically as leehan shook his head in disbelief, still biting back his laughter. 

“i dunno, but someone’s having a fantastic time fucking with you.” leehan’s amused reply only egged taesan’s grumpiness and despair on further, and he laid in bed for the rest of the afternoon replaying the scene in his mind.

the more times he re-remembered the catastrophic chain of events, the more anguished he became. he’s definitely sighed at least 30 times in the past hour.

you were fucking with him. there was no other explanation. ignoring him constantly and then jumping him the second the two of you were alone? 

maybe you were a sadist, and you and that one friend from the library were currently laughing and joking about the raven haired boy’s demise. 

unfortunately, the thought turns him on more than anything, and he can feel himself getting a hard on thinking about the completely hypothetical situation he’s making up in his scattered mind.

he sighed angrily and slapped his hand against his cold cheek. he was so done with this. with you.

the devil on his shoulder laughed as he vowed to get over you. granted, he had a better chance of winning the lottery then forgetting about you at his will, but he felt like he had no other choice.

as humorous as the situation was, taesan felt his heart ache and his face crumple when he remembered the way you rushed out of the space as the door opened. like he was poison. 

taesan hated the ugly green feeling that was swirling in his gut, eating away at his sanity. he hated that it had to be you making him feel this way. you’ve always been the one who makes him get like this. 

but at the same time, he can’t forget how entranced he was, like a magnetic force pulled his hand to your cheek.

the vision of you, eyes closed, cheeks red, waiting for you to place his lips on yours, is permanently seared in his mind. 

how does someone just fake that? you’re either satan’s reincarnation or taesan is seriously missing something.

taesan clutches his chest in agony, the internal tug of war making him want to throw himself out his bedroom window.

after letting himself toss and turn in despair for about 2 hours, taesan drearily got out of bed to finish his music theory paper. sliding into his desk chair, he opened up his laptop to see his comp project still open, the very one he’d played for you hours earlier. 

he sighed again. the university and its students were going to be the death of him.

...

while taesan was moping in bed, you were taking up space in yours as well, laying across it face down while giselle sat at your desk, scrolling through her phone.

she could tell something is up, considering the fact that you’re not talking her fucking ears off and just laying face down in silence like a corpse.

“so, are you gonna fess up? what happened?” giselle asked, unamused. after bursting into your apartment following the Great Elevator Escape, your frantically doom-texted giselle, leading to her showing up at your front door.

you’ve been laying on your bed trying to not scream out of excitement as you told her. hearing her clear her throat, you finally rolled over so your voice wouldn’t be muffled.

“we almost kissed, aeri.” you sighed out, slapping your hands over your face.

“we? who is we?” giselle, who was evidently not a mind reader, tilted her head in confusion, moving to sit on the bed next to you, laying her legs over yours.

“me and taesan” you mumbled, watching through a crack of space between your fingers as she immediately shot up from her slumped position against yours headboard. you could’ve sworn you got whiplash just from watching her. 

“WHAT?” her voice squealed in excitement, nearly blowing out your eardrum. you laughed, glad that someone else understood how bubbly and happy you felt. 

“I KNOW” you screamed back, grabbing her hand and squeezing it as you smiled so big you thought your face was going to break.

“wait, explain everything now, you sly bitch!” with that, you walked her through the whole scene. 

reciting it to your friend made your stomach flip, all the emotions from the moment coming back to you. absentmindedly, your brought a hand up to feel the stop on your cheek where taesan’s palm pressed into you, smiling dazedly.

“you’re so down, y/n, this is crazy!” aeri laughed at your lovesick state, giving you a playful shove. she wasn't wrong, and the acknowledgment only made your cheeks burn even more.

“shut up! can a girl not yearn for her man anymore?” you smiled giddily.

“usually i’d call you delusional but he actually wants you so bad.” you moved to sit up, turning to her excitedly.

smiling wickedly, you looked at your friend with a plan. there was no going back now, taesan wanted you without question.

“what’s that look? are we plotting?” giselle asked curiously after a beat of silence.

“you know me so well, aeri.” you pulled out your phone to text the your friends' groupchat, filling them in as you and giselle discussed further.

the feeling of his lips ghosting over yours was fresh in your mind. bringing a finger to your bottom lip, you felt warmth bloom in your chest at the memory. 

han taesan had no idea what was coming for him.

...

“hello? earth to y/n.” shinyu shook your shoulder as myungjae called to you across the table, bringing you out of your thoughts.

“huh?” jaehyun rolled his eyes at you.

“i’m throwing friday night, you coming?” you smiled in excitement, making eye contact with giselle, who had the same mischievous glint in her eye.

yeah, the two of your were thinking the exact same thing.

“what’s that look ... what am i missing?” belle looked between the two of you, very used to your antics.

“oh nothing…” aeri mused. “just getting y/n a date to formal.”

...

“i think i’m gonna stay in tonight, dude.” taesan sighed as he sunk onto the couch. it was friday afternoon and taesan was sufficiently worn out from the past week.

he had an exam this morning that he was almost late to because he got lost and then he didn’t have time to eat lunch because he had to go to a project meeting.

on top of everything, he got a glimpse of you laughing with giselle, ningning, and sohee on his way back from his meeting. now, he was just left with a sinking feeling in his stomach and a desire to suffocate himself under his covers for the rest of the night.

“you can’t miss jaehyun’s dude, he’s gonna kill you” as leehan replied, the ominious text their friend had sent him this morning flashed in his mind.

myungjae [9:43 a.m.]: make sure taesan comes tonight. 

leehan [9:46 a.m.]: what

“today has been the worst, i need to sulk.” taesan whined into the couch cushions, eliciting a punch in the shoulder from leehan.

“c’mon, that’s why you need to come out. get wasted and forget about your shitty week.” taesan frowned but didn’t respond.

maybe his roommate was right. plus, he had a sneaking suspicion leehan would drag him out of the apartment by his hair if he tried to stay in bed. groaning loudly, taesan got up.

“fine, i’m taking a nap first, though.” 

...

liquid courage was surging through you, not that you really needed it. you were still riding the high of your almost-kiss from earlier this week. the light fluffy feeling the alcohol was giving you was just a bonus.

standing in front of the mirror in jaehyun's bathroom, you gave yourself a once over as ningning fixed her eyeliner next to you. you were absentmindedly fixing the ends of your hair and adjusting the straps of your cami as she looked over at you with a smile.

"you look amazing, y/n. his jaw is going to be on the floor." she rubbed your shoulder comfortingly. smiling softly, you thanked her. looking back at yourself in the mirror, you felt the anticipation coursing through your veins.

the dull echo of jaehyun's house playlist pulsed through the walls and only heightened the excitement you felt under your skin. hearing your phone buzz, you looked over at the phone screen, a certain text message catching your attention.

myungjae [10:58 p.m.]: he just walked in.

you made eye contact with ningning as you clicked your phone shut and slipped it in the back pocket of your shorts.

"it's go time." she laughed, wishing your luck as she pushed you towards the bathroom door. turning open the doorknob, you stepped out into the living room, colored lights dancing across the walls.

...

taesan was pulled towards the kitchen by his roommate, barely getting a glimpse of the rest of the party before a shot was being pushed into his hand.

"you need a drink, dude." leehan demanded, turning around and looking for myungjae in the sea of people and waving him over. their friend smiled and pushed through a couple people to get into the kitchen, giving taesan and leehan a fist bump.

"hey, you guys made it!" he smiled, accepting the shot leehan handed him.

the three of them clinked their glasses and downed the clear liquid together. taesan's face scrunched at the burning in his throat, coughing roughly.

"do you have punch or something?" jaehyun nodded and walked away to get some jungle juice.

looking around, taesan took in his surroundings. jaehyun had a nice apartment, and he'd been a few times. it looked completely different than it did during the day, furniture pushed to the walls to make room for people to dance. the apartment was completely dark except for the colored led lights, giving the room a blueish glow.

looking into the living room, taesan scanned the crowd for anyone else he knew. he caught a glimpse of sungho and riwoo, his old roommates, talking to the dj, some guy he didn't recognize.

his eyes widened when he saw giselle near the dj's booth as well, chatting with some tall guy he didn't recognize.

were you here too? even though he knew you were friends with jaehyun, he somehow failed to consider the fact you might be at this party as well.

turning back to leehan, he spoke hurriedly.

"i need another shot."

...

a couple shots and a cup of jungle juice (that was probably 80% booze) later, he finally stepped out of the kitchen.

"i'm gonna go say hi to someone really quick, i'll be back in a bit." taesan nodded and waved as leehan stepped away. he felt a little looser, shoulders finally relaxing a bit as he walked over to sungho and riwoo.

they chatted for a bit, and he sipped on another glass of spiked fruit punch as he laughed along with them. riwoo was complaining about his choreography class animatedly and sungho was gushing about some junior, kim woonhak, he'd just befriended.

"it's official, guys. i'm a single dad now." taesan rolled his eyes at his friends, a small smile painting his face.

after a beat, the boy noticed his friends glancing behind him. tilting his head in confusion, he turned around to see what they were looking at so curiously. forgetting how drunk he was and the fact that he had a drink in his hand, he swung around a bit faster and more clumsily than he wanted to.

"is there something beh-" he began, before he felt himself promptly bump into someone, their head hitting his chest. suddenly the front of his shirt was damp, his cup of punch getting caught between him and the mystery stranger and spilling on him.

"shit my bad are you oka-" taesan's concerned voice abruptly cut off as the person in front of him came into focus. lo and behold, you were standing in front of him, the front of your top now boasting a growing wet spot from taesan's drink.

there's actually no fucking way. taesan didn't think he's ever wished for the ground to swallow him whole more than that very moment.

"taesan, hey! it's you again." you smiled easily, as if you didn't notice the sticky beverage now spilled across your shirt and chest. taesan could've sworn he saw you bat your eyelashes.

"i'm so sorry about your shirt, i didn't mean to be so clumsy." taesan almost stumbled over his words as the apologies spilled from his lips. his stomach was simultaneously flipping and twisting at the sight of you looking up at him.

you looked down as if you were seeing the stain on your shirt for the first time as well, smiling and shrugging.

"don't worry about it, i'm sorry! you got wet too." you gestured slightly to his shirt as well, giggling. you had definitely had a few drinks as well, taesan wasn't sure if you were as drunk as him.

"don't worry about it either, it was my bad." you waved away his admission of guilt, your gaze suddenly darkening slightly.

"guess we're even then! would you mind if i asked for a favor though?" taesan hummed in acknowledgement and nodded, beckoning you to continue.

"help me clean up?"

as taesan's face turned into a look of shock and surprise, you giggled again, blinking up at him slowly. snapping out of his drunken daze, he nodded quickly and waved goodbye to his friends. grabbing your wrist, he wove through the crowd, his fingers wrapped tight around your arm. his hand was warm, and you had to put in an effort to peel your eyes away from his grip on you, heartbeat speeding up.

looking away from his back, you made eye contact with giselle and belle across the small apartment. you smiled as they gave you thumbs up from the other side of the room as taesan whisked you away.

jackpot.

...

it's you who shuts the bathroom door behind the two of you. taesan finally turns back around to look at you, trying to ignoring his racing heartbeat.

in the lighting of the bathroom he can finally see you. you look better than that fateful day in the elevator, even in your basic cami and denim shorts. the stain on your shirt is small, which taesan is thankful for. unfortunately, some of his drink spilled on the exposed skin of your chest, it's sticky residue making your chest all shiny.

you look so perfect, taesan thinks he might actually faint. he almost feels the air leave his lungs as you smile up at him.

when you step towards him he freezes, only letting his shoulders relax when he realizes you're reaching past him to turn on the sink's faucet. your hair brushes his arm and your shoulder bumps his, and taesan can smell your fruity perfume.

you smell like berries and some sort of flower, and taesan almost gets lost in it, in you. the sound of the faucet running helps to clear his mind a little, but he loses his cool all over again when you grab his shoulder to turn him to face you.

"sorry, is it okay if i touch you?" taesan's sure he's red as a cherry as he nods, his movements stuttering slightly. truly, he has no fucking clue what you're about to do, but god he could not care less.

you grab a small towel hanging nearby and dip it under the running water before bringing it to taesan's chest, where the offending stain has dried up into his shirt.

gently, you rub the wet fabric across his shirt. your other hand is splayed on his shoulder, taesan isn't sure if it's for stability or because you want him to pass out and die on the spot. from his view, he can see your long lashes flutter as you squint at his chest in concentration.

he's trying to focus on anything but your heavy gaze on him. the boy opts to look at the ceiling, tilting his head up and not giving his eyes any chance of stealing a glance at you.

every once in a while, your fingers brush against his chest lightly and he feels his skin burn underneath your touch. despite how drunk he is, he's suddenly so aware of everything.

he wonders if you can hear his heartbeat, if you can feel how his breaths and his lungs stutter when you rub the towel on him. your proximity alone is making his head spin more than the alcohol he drank.

the way you're doting on him is making his stomach burn with some type of desire, taesan doesn't think he's ever felt a need like this before. his racing thoughts are distracted by the sound of a huff below him.

he looks down at you as you scrub a bit more on his shirt before pulling away slowly.

"that should be good en-" you don't get to finish your sentence, interrupted by taesan's hand grabbing your wrist.

before you can even think, taesan's lips are on yours. you drop the towel in shock, and it makes a soft noise as it hits the floor.

neither of you seem to care all too much, though. your eyes flutter shut as taesan's other hand slides into your hair, tilting your head slightly.

the kiss is soft and timid as first, but after a moment taesan decides he's done playing games. he knows you want this as much as he does, he can tell by the way your hands are crumpling his damp shirt and pulling him closer to you.

taesan's lips are soft and plump as they slide menacingly slow against yours. his warm tongue presses against your bottom lip, coaxing your mouth open. he notices how pliant you are in his hold, lips falling open so his tongue can explore the wet walls of your mouth and throat. his hand hovers near your throat, fingers gently wrapping around your neck. you whimper as he gives it an experimental squeeze, your hands pulling him closer by his firm shoulders.

the feeling of his tongue filling your mouth makes your moan, the sound muffled and quiet. taesan doesn't miss it though, the noise only egging him on further. he bites your bottom lip before dragging his tongue over it soothingly.

it's hot and wet and messy, and spit trails down both of your chins with every smack of your lips against each other.

at some point, your arms wrapped around taesan's neck, his settling in the curve of your waist. your bodies fit perfectly together, your chest molding to his in a way that makes your head spin.

you can barely form a thought when taesan sucks on your tongue. you've never felt this way before, heat pooling in your stomach as his hands push into the small of your back.

at some point, he turns the two of you so you're pressed against the counter. his hands press your hips into the ceramic surface as his mouth dips down to press open mouthed kisses to the curve of your neck.

his teeth drag and brush against your delicate skin and his velvety tongue licks stripes across the bruises that you're sure he's leaving.

his lips are warm and wet as they suck your skin, traveling down your neck and shoulder. he bites your collarbone and you whimper again, a single hand threading into his hair hurriedly.

he finally gets you sitting on the countertop, and your legs wrap around him greedily, pulling him even closer. he licks the stickyness of his spilled drink from your chest, the sugary taste of the punch spreading on his tongue.

it's obscene, the things he wants to do to you. what's worse is that you look like you'd let him do anything to do you, melting under the attention of his hands and mouth.

the boy feels you tug at his hair, pulling him face back up so your lips can meet his in a bruising kiss. his brain almost goes into overdrive when you suck on his bottom lip, and he groans into your mouth.

hot and bothered, your hands slide across his firm shoulders, trailing down his chest and abdomen wickedly slow. your fingers tease the hem of his tshirt, twisting and tugging it as you lips move against his roughly.

the first touch of your fingers against his bare skin almost makes taesan dissolve into air. your skin is electrifying against his, leaving a burning path as it travels up his torso. you appreciate his toned form with your hands and the small noises coming from your mouth.

it feels like you've been making out for hours. taesan is honestly surprised that neither of you have run out of breath. you don't seem like anywhere near ready to let go of the boy, palms grasping for any of his skin that you can reach. slowly but steadily, your hands drift lower, fingers hooking into the waistband of taesan's jeans.

he pulls away hesistantly, watching a string of saliva stretch between the two of you. his eyes almost roll into the back of his head when he sees you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, eyes starry and glazed over.

"let's get out of here." you say it before he can, one hand still grasping his jeans.

"my place." taesan says pointedly.

taesan helps you off the counter and helps you smooth down your hair. you intertwine your fingers with his as he twists open the doorknob. the two of you are out of the apartment before either of you can bid your friends goodbye. you'll just have to text them in the morning.

right now, the only thing on both of your minds is getting back to taesan's apartment. everything else is going to have to wait.

...

for the second time, the two of you found yourselves in the same damn elevator together. the irony wasn't lost on either of you, and taesan smirked as he pulled you into his chest the moment the doors closed.

"seems like we have some unfinished business in here huh?" he mumbled before laying his lips back on yours. they were cold from being outside, but his tongue was warm as it pushed back into your mouth. he was leaning lazily against the wall, arms wrapped around your waist as he held you against him.

you whimpered as his hands ghosted over your ass, not quite applying the pressure you were aching for. the ding of the elevator sounded far away; he pulled away slowly, gesturing behind you at the open doors. you didn't hesitate to step towards the hall, closer to your destination.

taesan kept one of your hands tight in his hold as he fumbled with his keys. he sighed in relief as he finally pushed the door open, pulling you in with him. in a moment's time your mouth was back on his, the two of you kicking off your shoes as taesan led the two of backwards to his room. your skin was hot everywhere he touched you, and you moaned in anticipation as he pushed you backwards onto his bed.

the sight of you sitting on his bed and looking up at him with doe eyes, was something straight out of taesan's dreams. your chest rose and fell erratically and your eyes were round and glassed over. his eyes fixated on your red, swollen lips, glossy from yours and taesan's saliva.

"you're so beautiful." taesan breathed out as he tilted your chin up, cupping your jaw and leaning down to catch your plump lips with his. you didn't miss a beat, hands catching the front of his shirt. taesan laid you down, not breaking your kiss for a second.

your back pressed into the soft mattress, and you groaned at the feeling of taesan's firm chest pressed against yours. his hands landed at your hips, rubbing slow circles as they slid under your shirt gingerly. his fingers were cold, making your abdomen tense as they grazed over your soft skin.

it was hot and filthy, the way he licked into your mouth with fervor. your eyes nearly rolled into the back of your head as his tongue slid against yours roughly. you felt like hot lava, overheating faster and faster by the second.

your teeth nipped at his bottom lip, fingers greedily tugging at the ends of his shirt. taesan got the message immediately, breaking away from you slowly. standing on his knees, he pulled his shirt over his head. propping yourself up on your elbows, you admired the sight of his in front of you. his hair was slightly ruffled by the shirt and his lips were puffy and shiny.

you couldn't help the way your gaze drifted south. taesan's arousal was undeniable, bulge heavy in his pants. you licked your lips at the sight, eliciting a groan from the boy in front of you. heat pooled low in your belly at the noise, and you felt the impatience within you grow.

you reached out and curled a hand around the back of his neck, pulling him into a bruising kiss. taesan held himself up with his arms, tilting his face down to dip his tongue into your mouth. you let your hand roam downwards, fingers grazing over the tent in the boy's pants menacingly.

"please, tae, need you." you mumbled against his lips, pressure from your palm increasing with each pleading syllable that rolled off your tongue. taesan hummed in response, and before you knew it he was pushing your hand away and lowering his bottom half so his hips were flush against yours, bulge pushing against your clothed heat.

you moaned loudly at the pressure, and taesan only rolled his hips more, satisfied with the way you were writhing underneath him. his hands dug into your hips, holding you down whenever you tried to buck your hips up to match his pace. the way he so easily overpowered you only furthered your arousal, and you felt it in your tensed abdomen as his dick pressed against you again.

taesan's hot mouth moved down your jaw and neck, licking a stripe near your collarbone. he bit and nipped at your skin, and you could already feel the bruises blooming on your sensitive skin.

his hands cupped your boobs over your shirt, the pressure making your arch your back into him. he was addicted to the way your body moved and responded to him. it seemed almost unconscious, the way you were attuned to every graze of his skin against yours.

pulling back slightly, you watched with a hooded gaze as taesan's eyes dragged over your body. you looked like an angel, hair fanned out on the comforter, neck already blooming purple, lips red and shiny, and the straps of your cami falling off your shoulders. taesan finally had you all to himself and he wanted to savor every moment you were pressed against him.

your breathing was erratic as his hand slid under your shirt, fingertips leaving a blazing trail on the skin of your stomach. he rubbed the hem of your cami in between his fingertips, looking you in the eyes as he did.

"can i take this off?" he asked in a low voice that almost made your legs shake. you nodded hurriedly, sitting up so he could pull it over your head.

you unbuttoned your shorts as well, placing his hands on your waistband so he'd slide them off for you. he did, without hesitation, deliberately dragging his fingertips down the skin of your thighs as he pulled the clothing off. he sucked in a breath through his teeth at the sight of you in just your bra and panties, and you could've sworn that you watched his dick twitch.

taesan wanted to know all of you, inside and out. he watched as you curled into a ball, shy under his heavy gaze. he unbuttoned his pants, kicking them off his legs before placing his hands on your knees, pushing them down so he could crawl over you.

you laid back, head against his pillow as taesan hovered over you, hands on their side of your head. he dropped his hips so his clothed dick brushed against you, reveling in the way your eyes shut as you drowned in the pleasure and anticipation. a finger was dragged down the center of your chest, tracing the line where your bra pressed your breasts against each other.

taesan tilted himself down to press hot, open-mouthed, kisses along the edge of your bra, lips teasing your skin torturously. your back arched as you grabbed his hand, placing it on the clasp of your bra.

"don't they usually unclip in the back?" taesan mumbled curiously, voice low as his eyes met yours. you smiled wickedly, and he instantly knew that you planned this.

"not all of them." you said lightly, shrugging slightly and feigning a fake innocence that made taesan's eyes darken. within moments the garment was snapped open and tugged off your body, and taesan's rough fingertips were kneading into the plush skin of your chest.

his gaze laid heavily on you, its weight pushing down and making you forget how to breathe. you decided you couldn't keep looking at him, your eyes screwing shut and head pressing back into his pillow as hot lips sucked and licked at your skin, trailing down your chest and abdomen. your head was spinning and a slight sound of disapproval cut through the noise, cold fingers tapping the side of your head.

"look at me, y/n" you huffed, opening your eyes and propping yourself on your elbows to make pointed eye contact with him. taesan's face was hovering over your stomach, fingers rubbing circles into the side of your hips. the smile on his face sent chills down your neck and a warm gush between your legs.

"there you go. keep watching me, ok?" your stubborn gaze softened in seconds and you weakly nodded, watching him lower his mouth to tongue at the soft skin of your thighs. your ears were ringing, the rush of blood drowning out the good girl he was mumbling into your skin.

your senses felt heightened, all of your nerves lighting up at the sensation of taesan's hot, rough tongue licking and teasing your inner thighs. he was in no rush it seemed, decorating the skin with purple bruises and wet saliva. he ran his hands up and down your sides, letting the tips of his fingers catch the fabric of your underwear.

he was teasing you mercilessly, the anticipation nearly eating you alive.

"taesan, please." you whined as you felt him run a finger over your clothed slit. your underwear stuck to you painfully, the fabric soaked with your arousal. he made eye contact with you as he wet his middle finger with his mouth before pulling your panties to the side.

the wet finger pushed into your gushing entrance, slowly making room for itself within you. you sucked in a shaky breath when he fully sheathed his finger within you.

"you're so wet, y/n." he groaned. before you could even think of responding, he licked a stripe from your entrance to your clit, pulling a loud moan from you.

his lips wrapped around your clit gingerly as he added another finger. it was like his hands and mouth were made for you, fingers crooking just right and hitting the spongy spot that made your eyes roll into the back of your head.

your surroundings slowly disappeared as you drowned in the feeling of taesan on you, in you. you felt electric, sparks flying through your body with every swipe of his tongue and every flick of his wrist. you planted your feet against the bed and your hips weakly jerked upwards to meet the thrusts of his fingers into you.

you couldn't even understand the sounds you were making, broken moans and cries spilling out of you. taesan chuckled against you, mouth still hot against your sensitive bundle of nerves.

"stop squirming." his voice only made you wetter, and another moan tore from your throat as you fisted taesan's sheets.

"you wanted this, didn't you?" taesan's thumb rubbed circles into your clit, replacing his lips, and he continued pumping his fingers into you mercilessly. you felt him all around you, drowning in his touch, his voice. the words falling off his tongue dripped with venom, and it only fanned the flames in your lower half.

"always teasing and playing with me. i didn't know what you wanted from me then, but i get it now." taesan mumbled against your hips, where he dragging his lips and teeth on your soft skin, leaving even more marks. you couldn't even answer him, jolts of pleasure making your thoughts go haywire. he smiled against your skin, enjoying the fucked out look on your face.

"you're usually so mouthy, what happened, y/n?" taesan watched you writhe underneath him, tears welling in your shut eyes. the sight of you falling apart had him painfully hard, dick straining in his boxers helplessly.

"f-fuck, tae." you cried out as he hit that spot inside you again, heat pooling in your stomach and threatening to spill out of you. "gonna cu- fuck!"

"go ahead, i got you." taesan didn't let up, fingers pounding into you. the room was filled with your whimpers and the wet noises of your arousal. with one more snap of his wrist, the coil in your stomach snapped, and your entire body shook as you came. you could feel your walls fluttering uncontrollably around taesan's fingers as he fucked you through your orgasm.

your back slumped as you came down from your high, barely registering the feeling of taesan's fingers lazily stroking in and out of you until the twinges of overstimulation started to settle in. you pushed his hands away from you with a whine, opening your eyes slowly. as your surroundings came back to you, you were greeted with the sight of taesan leaning over you, licking your juices off his fingers.

your voice was soft and delicate as you cursed at the sight, legs wrapping around his waist so you could pull him into a bruising kiss. his wet hand gripped your sides hard enough to leave bruises as you sucked on his tongue gingerly.

his hardened length grinded against you as he licked into your mouth, and the fabric of his boxers rubbing against your clit made you hiss in pleasure. you let your splayed hand on his chest drag downwards, fingers teasing the waistband of his underwear. taesan sighed into your mouth as it slipped underneath, your hand wrapping around his dick.

it was heavy in your hand, and you could feel the way the tip bulged in comparison to the rest of his length. you squeezed him experimentally, smiling in satisfaction at the pretty noises he was making and the way he was biting your lip helplessly.

your grip was hot and tight around him and you smeared the precum leaking from the tip along his length, making your fist glide smoother along the veiny skin.

"you feel so ... mmmh fuck so good" taesan's face was pressed into your neck, soft pants filling your ears deliciously. you jerked him slow, forcing him to savor the drag of your soft fingers on his dick. your hands were so much softer than his, and they felt like heaven wrapped around him. his hips rutted against your hand as he fucked your fist, and the room filled with sounds of skin sliding against each other and soft moans.

taesan could feel the knot in his stomach ready to burst and, with the most willpower he's even had, he grabbed your wrist and tugged your hand out of his boxers.

"i don't wanna cum from your hand." he said breathlessly, slipping his boxers off. you giggled as he reached over you to pull open the top drawer of his nightstand, fishing out a condom. you kicked off your ruined underwear, tossing them somewhere on taesan's bedroom floor.

"it'd be a nice ego boost for me." you teased, running a finger up his length as he ripped open the foil package. he rolled his eyes, smacking your wrist away as he slid the rubber on himself.

"i think that's the last thing you need, actually." his voice was low and breathy as he spoke, hands running up your torso and gripping your face. he pushed his lips against yours, tongue dipping between your lips. you pulled him closer by his shoulders, skin burning in anticipation as you felt his length rest against your stomach.

you were aching to feel him inside you, walls pulsing around nothing. you wanted him so bad it hurt, nails digging into his soft skin.

"please, just put it in." you barely got the words out in between kisses. you could feel taesan smile against you. he debated ignoring your pleas, swallowing your whimpers in between his lips and making you beg a bit longer. but taesan was feeling a bit impatient, not to mention painfully hard, today as well; he'd save the begging for another night.

he broke your kiss, letting his lips hover over yours. your breaths mingled together as his heavy gaze met yours. looking down between you, he wrapped a hand around his length, sliding the tip between your folds. the sounds were obscene, your wetness coating his tip generously.

you whined again, trying to tilt your hips upward to slip part of him inside you. your efforts were fruitless, taesan's wrist moved from his length to hold your hips down as he tutted in disapproval. when you finally stopped squirming, he moved his hips forward, pushing the tip into you slowly.

"ngh -- fuck." you moaned as he sank into you slowly. even after taking his fingers, you still felt a stretch as your body made room for him inside you. the burn was delicious, and your hands reached for him, any part of him. one of taesan's hands moved from your hip to hold your empty hand, fingers intertwining as he finally bottomed out.

"are you okay?" it was only after he asked the question that you realized you were panting, breaths short and fast.

"mmm uhm -- yea i'm just, shit, so full." taesan's eyes darkened as he took in your words, pride swelling at the way his dick took the words out of your brain. he pressed his lips to yours, coaxing your body to adjust to the newfound fullness.

you felt like you were falling, and his touch was the only thing keeping you from disintegrating into thin air. you unconsciously clenched around him, and he gasped into your mouth.

"you're so -- shit so tight." he mumbled into your neck before licking a stripe up to your jaw. "can i move?"

you nodded, grinding your hips upwards slightly. taesan's first thrusts were slow, letting the two of your savor the drag of his veiny skin against your warm walls. with each thrust, the slight discomfort of his intrusion faded, and warm pleasure pooled in your abdomen, making you whine and grasp his shoulder.

"ngh faster, please." your words were broken, and taesan reveled in the effect he had on you. he angled his hips upward and began moving in and out of you faster, tip brushing your g-spot with every thrust.

the room filled with wet squelching noises as he fucked into you, his skin slapping against yours obscenely. the sight of his face above you was everything, bangs sweaty as they clung to his forehead and eyes scrunched in concentration as he tried to keep a steady rhythm. the bed creaked loudly, and you were sure any of his neighbors could definitely hear.

nothing mattered to you though, nothing but the sweet sensation of him filling you up, dick sliding inside you and making your eyes roll back.

a rough hand landed on your clit, fingers rubbing tight circles against the soft bud with vigor. the sensation was almost too much, and you nearly screamed when he somehow angled his hips even higher. every stroke inside sent jolts of pleasure down your limbs; your skin felt electric.

"so-o good, tae." your words were punched out, brain foggy as taesan fucked all coherent thoughts out of you. he groaned and bit down on your shoulder as you lifted your hips to meet his movements.

"you're too good to me, baby." he cooed at you, voice all too pleasant compared to the way he was pounding into you. "so warm inside. all for me."

his sweet words only made you hurtle even faster towards your climax. you couldn't tell where your body ended and his began. you looked between your bodies to see where the two of you connected, letting out a broken whine at the sight of his length sliding in and out of you.

his hand left your clit and slid low on your abdomen, pressing in slightly. the pressure sent waves of warm pleasure through you.

"i can see myself. right here." you looked down to see where his hand was. it rested on a small bulge in your stomach, one that moved with his thrusts into you. taesan ran his thumb over it and you let out a weak sob at the sight, burying your face into his neck.

"fuck ..." you sighed as his dick carved into you. taesan grabbed your hair, pulling your face out of the crook in his shoulder.

"fuck, y/n, say you're mine." he groaned, eyes piercing into you. his hand hovered over your clit again, fingers ghosting over the sensitive nub as he spoke again. "say it."

"i'm shit-- i'm yours, taesan. only yours." you whimpered, nails digging into his shoulder blades as you held onto him. he fucked deep into you, long fingers rubbing into your clit vigorously.

you didn't even tell him when your orgasm hit you, capturing his lips with yours instead. it washed over you like a tidal wave, soaking your whole body in hot bliss. taesan groaned as your walls squeezed him, mumbling an i'm cumming against your lips softly.

even through the condom, you could feel his release, the feeling of the hot liquid making you moan loudly. taesan fucked you through both of your highs, stroking in and out of you as you came back down to earth.

he pressed his forehead to yours when he broke your kiss, warm breath fanning on your cheeks. his movements slowed to a stop as his body slumped on top of you, dick softening inside of you as he pressed his face into your neck.

"you're gonna crush me, tae." you wheezed out, chest squeezing underneath him. your hands balled into fists as they flailed against his back, and you were laughing. taesan chuckled, pushing himself up by his arms to pull himself out of you. he rolled off the bed, tossing the condom. he disappeared into his closet, walking out in a pair of fresh boxers. you smiled shyly as he handed you a big tshirt and a pair of his boxers for you to sleep in, slipping them on before sliding back onto the bed.

you turned onto your side to face him when he crawled back to join you and pulled a blanket over the two of you, your hand coming up to run though his hair. his eyes closed as he leaned into your touch, rubbing against your hand like a cat.

"what are you thinking about?" his voice was low and smooth as he opened his eyes to look at you, making your cheeks burn.

"you." you whispered. a hand wrapped around your arm and he pulled you into his chest, his other hand cupping the back of your head. you tilted your head up so you could kiss him, slow and soft. your legs tangled with his as you tilted your face to brush your tongue against his lightly.

"hmm ... good answer." he smiled against your mouth, planting another kiss on your cheek. you closed your eyes as he squeezed you against him, peppering kisses across your face. you hid your face in the crook of his neck and let his warm body encase you, falling asleep to the feeling on his face nuzzling into your hair.

...

two weeks had passed since the fateful party, and taesan was now your boyfriend. both of you were sitting with your friend group at lunch, laughing over some dumb argument between myungjae and sohee.

"y/n, you agree with me, right?" jaehyun looked at you pleadingly at you as you shook your head, laughing. you were eating some fries with taesan's arm draped around your shoulder, periodically feeding him some.

"you're crazy, jae." his offended look only egged your laughter on further, your shoulders shaking slightly.

"and to think i helped you plot on my friend. i never would've expected you of all people to betray me." he gasped dramatically, falling into his seat with a pout. your jaw dropped as he sat down, cheeks reddening as you reached over to smack him on the back of the head. you heard a chuckle from your boyfriend, making your cheeks blush furiously.

"wow, i can't believe i was all stressed worrying that you hated me while you were preying on me." taesan laughed as he pulled you away before you properly jumped on jaehyun.

"it wasn't like tha-" he cut you off with a swift kiss, lips swallowing your rebuttal.

a chorus of gross! and ew's and not again's could be heard across the table, and suddenly everyone was chastising myungjae for provoking the two of you.

"now i have to bleach my eyes, jesus." giselle mumbled.

[mggslover]

How the Unsub Stole Christmas ❆

A Holiday to Remember: part 2

In which the BAU's holiday getaway takes a dark turn when a family is found murdered on Christmas, forcing the team to investigate while reader struggles with painful memories of her past and her growing, unspoken feelings for Spencer Reid.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!bau!reader Genre: crime, angst, smut (18+), fluff, found family Content warnings: graphic cm case descriptions!!, mentions of shitty childhood, reader getting in some unsub trouble, oral (f receiving), p in v sex. Word count: 9k 🫣 i swear it reads really fast A/n: read part 1 first! writing this story genuinely brought me so much joy, and i hope you will experience the same while reading this. this will be my last fic for the year 2024, so thank you from the bottom of my heart for all the support, i can't wait to see what the new year will bring for this blog. don't forget to interact with this post if you've enjoyed! 🎄🤍 dividers by @issysh3ll

It shouldn’t have surprised you that you’d be called out for another case. Still, the disappointment lingered thick in the air.

“It was fun while it lasted,” Garcia murmured softly, her tone sad. JJ wrapped an arm around her, bringing her in for a side hug. “Don’t worry,” she reassured gently. “The trip isn’t over yet.”

Penelope seemed satisfied enough with that answer, but then spoke up again. “I don’t want to stay here on my own. It’s spooky knowing someone got murdered just miles away.”

“You can come with us to the station. Rossi, Morgan, Prentiss and Y/L/N, you’ll head to the crime scene. A deputy will be waiting for you there.” Hotch instructed. 

You exhaled softly and gave a brief nod. Spencer glanced over at you, his eyes filled with that quiet empathy you’d come to recognize over the years.

“Good luck,” he said, his voice low but sincere.

“Thanks,” you replied, your words equally soft. “You too.”

Half an hour later, you arrived at the crime scene. The neighborhood was so small it hardly felt like one—just a handful of houses scattered across large, snow-dusted plots of land. It looked peaceful, almost idyllic, as if nothing could ever disturb the calm. The street was adorned with Christmas lights and festive decorations. The only thing slightly out of place was a crack in the bench beside one of the houses. Otherwise, the neighborhood looked like it had stepped right out of a holiday card.

As you stepped out of the car, you noticed the few neighbors who hadn’t yet been driven inside by the cold. They stood in clusters in front of their homes, bundled up in scarves and coats, watching the scene unfold with cautious curiosity.

You looked over at Prentiss. “We should start doing some interviews—maybe send a few of them over to the station.”

She nodded, her expression focused. “Got it.” Without another word, she made her way toward them.

You followed Rossi and Derek toward the red wooden house, where the Deputy awaited by the front door. He looked young—probably around your age. 

Rossi introduced you to Deputy Wilson. Wilson gave a sheepish smile, “Sorry it’s just me. Almost the whole department is unavailable because of the holidays.”

“Convenient timing for a murder,” you mused.

“The scene’s been left as it was when we found it,” Wilson continued. “The back door’s been forced open, and you can see boot prints in the snow leading to the backyard.”

Morgan immediately stepped forward. “I’ll get a shot of those prints for Garcia,” he said, already heading toward the backyard.

Wilson looked at you and Rossi. “You want to take a look inside?”

You paused before heading in, shaking the snow from your boots and making sure not to use the doormat—the one engraved with the names of the family members. It felt wrong, almost disrespectful, to dirty the only thing that might be left of them. 

You took in a sharp breath as you entered the house. Your gaze was first taken by the large Christmas tree standing in the corner of the living room, decorated in red and gold. But then you noticed the bloody mess underneath it. Four bodies—two adults and two children—lay scattered on the floor, broken Christmas ornaments surrounding them, as though the killer had dropped them carelessly after his violent act. The mother and father were draped over each other, their throats slit cleanly. The teenage daughter, too, had her throat cut, but her body was twisted in a way that didn’t seem accidental. The small boy—no older than ten—was slumped between them, his face frozen in an expression of terror, a look that would haunt you for days.

The scene before you was a sickening parody of a perfect Christmas. But the most disturbing part wasn’t the carnage—it was their faces. Each of them wore a grotesque, unnerving smile, painted onto their lips in blood. It was a mockery of joy, an image of happiness forced onto the dead.

You felt a wave of nausea rise in your throat and turned away, needing a moment to breathe. It was then that you noticed the walls, once filled with smiling family photos were now smeared with blood. Shattered frames lay scattered on the floor, as if the killer had intentionally destroyed the family’s history, piece by piece. 

Rossi spoke first. “The unsub who stole Christmas,” he mused, his tone almost playful despite the grim reality.

You gave a sharp exhale, a brief scoff escaping your lips. “Yeah, you could say that.”

You put on your gloves and picked up a shattered picture frame from the floor. You handed it to Rossi without a word. He took it, studying it for a moment before speaking again. “One thing’s for sure—this wasn’t just a murder. This is deeply personal.”

You nodded, scanning the room. The starkness of the crime scene was still sinking in, but your mind was already running through the facts. “The execution was meticulous,” you murmured, your gaze flickering over the room, “but the aftermath... messy. The unsub rushed out of here—didn’t even bother closing the back door behind him, and those footprints? Almost like he didn’t care at all about leaving evidence. We might even get lucky and find DNA on the bodies.”

Rossi considered it. “It could be that he was in a hurry. In a small neighborhood like this, people will notice anything out of the ordinary. He probably knew he had to move fast.”

You hummed in return. “It still doesn’t add up. You can’t plan a murder with this much detail and then completely overlook how to cover your tracks afterward.”

You took another slow turn around the room, examining the details. Every piece seemed to add to the strange puzzle, but none of it fit together. As you passed the fireplace, something caught your eye: a piece of paper tucked into one of the stockings. You reached for it carefully, your fingers brushing the corner stained with blood.

You unfolded it with precision, revealing the scrawled words in black ink. The sentence was short and written in Latin, a language you hadn’t encountered in years. You stared at it, furrowing your brow as you tried to make sense of it.

“You wouldn’t happen to know Latin, would you?” You asked Rossi, half-joking, though the seriousness in your voice remained.

Rossi looked up, his expression a mix of confusion and dry humor. “Does it look like I know Latin?”

You smiled, already pulling your phone out of your pocket and speed dialing Spencer. As the phone rang, you turned your attention back to the paper, the blood spatter still making your stomach turn.

“Hey,” you breathed out as he picked up the phone after the second ring.

“Hey,” Spencer replied. “Are you okay?” His voice was soft with concern, your single syllable being enough for him to decipher how you feel.

You glanced over your shoulder at the murdered family, swallowing hard before turning away. “I will be,” you responded. Once that fucker is behind bars.

You straightened, pushing the thoughts away, and focused on the task at hand. “I’ve just found a piece of paper at the crime scene. It’s a text written in Latin. I figured it’d be quicker to ask you than wait for Garcia to look it up.”

Spencer hummed in acknowledgment. “Good call. What does it say?”

You glanced at the paper again, stumbling slightly over the unfamiliar words. “Nunc sciunt te perfectum non esse.”

There was a beat of silence on the other end of the line before Spencer spoke, his voice calm but precise. “Nunc sciunt te perfectum non esse. ‘Now they know you’re not perfect.’” His perfect Latin pronunciation made you wince at how poorly you’d read it.

“What’s that supposed to mean? A taunt?”

Spencer’s voice was thoughtful. “Sounds like he’s trying to prove something. It’s definitely personal.”

You exchanged a look with Rossi, who was standing nearby, holding the broken picture frame. “Yeah, that’s what we’ve been thinking. Whoever this unsub is, he knows the Reynolds family intimately.”

“Garcia’s already digging into the family’s background,” Spencer replied without missing a beat, already a step ahead.

“Good,” you muttered, relief washing over you for a moment. “How are things going over there?”

“JJ’s been trying to reach family, but they don’t live nearby,” Spencer answered. “A snowstorm hit. I’ve been tracking the meteorological data, and the chances of them making it are close to zero.” 

You nodded, a dull ache settling in your chest. “Well, I’m going to keep looking around here. The bodies will be picked up soon to go to the lab, and then I’ll be heading over to the station.”

“Alright,” Spencer replied, his tone warmer now. “I’ll see you there. Be careful.”

“Always am,” you said, offering a small smile even though he couldn’t see it.

The words on the note kept drifting through your mind. Maybe it was the sentiment that came with Christmas—or maybe it was the fact that, up until now, you were having a perfect holiday, something you never thought you’d get to experience—that made the scene remind you of your childhood. How everything looked so joyous from the outside, especially during the holidays. But if you looked closely, you’d see the cracks. The ornaments on the tree, hastily glued together, their edges jagged and uneven. The hole in the wall, cleverly concealed behind your stocking. 

You were probably overthinking it. After all, it wasn’t the family that was broken like yours was—it was the unsub who had shattered their picture-perfect life.

Rossi’s voice broke through your thoughts. “You okay, kid?”

You blinked, pulling yourself out of the past and into the present. “Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s get out of here.”

You and Rossi walked into the secluded room the Sheriff had arranged for the team, exchanging your findings with Morgan and Prentiss along the way. You’d made a quick stop at a Chinese takeaway to grab food for everyone, knowing the team needed fuel for the long hours ahead.

The rest of the team was already seated around the table, and Reid was in the middle of showing Hotch something on the map of the neighborhood.

“Oh, you guys are the best!” Penelope sighed, her voice full of appreciation as she caught sight of the plastic bags you were carrying.

“We couldn’t leave you to go hungry,” Emily responded with a grin.

You took a seat closest to where Spencer was standing, and he naturally slid into the chair beside you. You reached into the bag and pulled out the only plastic fork, knowing he’d struggle with chopsticks. He flashed you a grateful, closed-lip smile as he took it from you.

Once everyone had filled their plates, the conversation turned back to the case.

“Garcia dug up some useful info,” JJ began. “Stephen Reynolds owned a construction company that’s on the verge of going bankrupt. It’s possible the unsub was an employee who got fired—or was cut loose because the company couldn’t afford him anymore.”

“It seems like the whole family was targeted,” you added, leaning forward. “The note was left in one of the children’s stockings. It doesn’t feel like the murder was just directed at Stephen.”

“That’s why we need to find out more about the Reynolds family outside of their neighborhood,” Hotch said. “The employees at the construction company could have insight. It’s clear the neighbors aren’t going to give us much.”

Rossi’s eyes narrowed, a skeptical look on his face. “Did they really not give you anything? The neighbors, I mean.”

Prentiss shook her head. “Nothing useful. They kept insisting that the Reynolds’s were a perfect family. They even seemed offended when I pressed for more.”

“That doesn’t sit right. The note specifically mentioned how the Reynolds’s are not perfect.” Rossi replied. 

“I gotta give it to them, though,” Garcia chimed in. “The Reynolds’s are model citizens. The parents were both heavily involved in charity, and the kids have won multiple prizes in spelling bees and other competitions.”

“Has anything bad ever happened in that neighborhood?” Morgan asked, clearly skeptical about the idea of perfection.

Penelope clicked away on her laptop. “Well, there was a fire in one of the houses about ten years ago, because of damaged Christmas lights.” She made a sad face as she continued searching. “Oh, and a cat got stuck in a tree once… didn’t make it.”

“What happened to the family in the house?” Spencer asked.

Penelope’s fingers paused over the keys. “Uh, let me see… The Eriksens died from smoke inhalation. Oh… this is sad. They left a child, Christopher Eriksen. He was put into foster care when he was just eight.”

“Did the Reynolds’s live there when that happened?” JJ asked.

“Yeah, they did. Actually, they organized a fundraiser to build a bench with the parents’ names engraved on it, in their memory.”

You felt your pulse quicken at the mention of the bench. Something about it seemed strangely familiar, but you couldn’t trust your mind right now—not with everything still scattered from the case, and the ghosts of your past tugging at the edges of your thoughts.

You could feel Spencer’s gaze on you, but you decided to ignore it, keeping your focus on Hotch as he spoke up. 

“It’s best if we head back to the cabin to rest up,” he said. “Tomorrow’s going to be a long day, and the station’s closing tonight so everyone can spend time with their families.”

Everyone nodded in agreement, the relief of getting some rest evident on their faces. But as the team began gathering their things, you couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that had settled in your chest. You hated the idea of putting the case on hold, even if it was just for the night. The face of that little boy kept haunting your thoughts, his wide eyes silently pleading for answers, for peace. You couldn’t help but feel like you were letting him down.

Spencer’s hand snakes up on your shoulder, his warm hold holding you in place. His lips barely moved as he mouthed, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you whispered, shaking your head.

The entire car ride had been silent. Spencer’s gaze would occasionally flicker over to you in the backseat, but you kept your eyes fixated on the road, watching the scenery blur past.

The silence stretched on as you said your goodnights to the rest of the team and walked toward your shared room with Spencer. As you both got ready for bed, there was an unspoken tension hanging in the air. Now, lying in the king-sized bed, you both stared up at the ceiling, the quiet stillness between you thick with unspoken words.

“When are we finally going to talk about what’s wrong?” Spencer’s voice broke the silence, careful but insistent.

You stayed quiet for a moment, trying to gather your thoughts. “Nothing’s wrong,” you replied, your words coming out a little too quickly.

“There’s obviously something wrong,” he pressed gently. “You know you can talk to me, right?”

“I know,” you answered, your voice softer now, more honest. Usually, Spencer never had to press. There was something about him—something warm and patient—that made it easy to open up, to share your thoughts without fear of judgment. But this time, it felt different. It wasn’t just the case. It felt personal, something you couldn’t fully explain.

“I don’t know what’s wrong,” you said, thinking aloud. “It’s just… something’s off. And I don’t know if it’s just me.”

“What do you feel?” His question was quiet, but his concern was clear.

You hesitated. “It sounds stupid,” you muttered, brushing it off.

“Nothing you could say would sound stupid to me.” His words, soft and sincere, made your chest tighten with warmth. You turned your head to look at him, noticing the closeness between you, the way his gaze lingered on you.

“You thought it was stupid that I shower at 115 degrees,” you said with a playful smile.

Spencer let out a soft chuckle, the tension easing just a little. “I don’t think it’s stupid that you like it,” he said, his voice gentle. “I just think it’s stupid that you’d risk hurting yourself over it.”

His eyes warmly looked at you. One hand rested underneath his pillow as he lay on his side. You turned toward him, mirroring his position.

"I’m really struggling with this case," you softly admitted, trying to keep eye contact, though your gaze flickered down, betraying the weight of your words.

“Was it hard seeing the crime scene?”

"Yeah," you choked out, your throat tight. You blinked quickly to try to stop the tears that threatened to spill. “It was... it was horrible.”

His hand reached out to gently rub your bare arm under the blanket. "It’s completely normal to feel affected by what you saw," he began, his voice steady but laced with the kind of empathy that only someone like him could offer. "Witnessing something as violent and horrific as the bodies of two children—it’s traumatic. The brain processes trauma in complex ways, especially when it involves young victims. According to studies in neuropsychology, traumatic experiences, particularly those involving children, can cause the brain to release a surge of stress hormones like cortisol and adrenaline. This flood of chemicals can lead to acute emotional responses, such as anxiety and flashbacks.”

“I’ve been experiencing flashbacks,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. You met his gaze, looking for reassurance, and he gave you the space to speak, waiting patiently. “It actually started earlier today, when we arrived at the cabin. I’ve never experienced a Christmas like this, you know, the kind that feels warm and joyful. I- I don’t know if I’m making connections that aren’t there, but the feeling I had in that house was the same feeling I used to get when I was growing up.”

He tilted his head. "What feeling?"

“...Jealousy.”

His eyebrows knitted. “Jealousy?”

You nodded, swallowing hard, gathering your thoughts. “You could feel so much rage in there. Everything that made the home feel homey—that warmth, that love—was completely shattered. The way the unsub positioned the family members under the Christmas tree, the way the note was tucked into the stocking… There’s a reason for it. Christmas represents this idealized view of perfection. I don’t think the message was to prove that the company going bankrupt is some sort of imperfection in the family’s picture-perfect life. No, it feels like the unsub was jealous of their happiness. Of the fact that they had a family who seemed perfect—something he never had. He wanted to destroy it. To ruin their happiness. He could never have it, so he shattered the illusion of perfection entirely.”

Spencer was quiet for a moment, processing your words. “So you think the Reynolds’s were targeted as surrogates?”

“I guess so. But you don’t just stumble across a neighborhood as desolate as theirs.” you responded.

“It could still be one of the employees of the construction company. If Stephen bragged about his perfect family to the wrong person, it could have triggered something.”

You hummed in agreement, but Spencer could see there was more on your mind. He raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"

“As I got older, I learned that blaming others wasn’t going to make me feel any better about my situation. It’s like the unsub hasn’t realized that yet. The way he executed this crime—it’s almost like a child throwing a tantrum. He was so meticulous in setting everything up, and then once he got what he wanted, he just… walked away. There was no care for the aftermath, no consideration of what would happen afterward.”

“Do you think the unsub could still be a child?” he asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.

Your mind clicked, and for the first time, the puzzle pieces seemed to fit together. “How old was the kid when he was put into foster care?" You asked, already knowing the answer.

“Eight. Why?” Spencer's confusion was evident.

“It’s been ten years since that house caught fire. That would make him eighteen now, and—"

Spencer’s eyes widened as realization struck. “And that he just got out of foster care.”

"Exactly," you said, rolling out of bed and storming downstairs.

“Hey! Where are you going?” Spencer called after you, quickly grabbing his cardigan from the chair in the corner of the room before hurrying to catch up.

“Be quiet, I don’t want to wake anyone.” You instructed, feeling Spencer’s presence behind you as you moved toward the kitchen.

“What are you doing?” he hissed in a whisper as you opened Garcia’s laptop on the table. You didn’t respond, your fingers already flying over the keys as you settled into a chair.

Spencer huffed, knowing full well there was no stopping you once your mind was set. He hovered behind you, draping the cardigan over your shoulders. “I’m not covering for you if Garcia finds out,” he warned, glancing over your shoulder at the screen.

“That’s fine. I know exactly what to say to win her over,” you said nonchalantly, clicking away. In your mind, the image of Spencer in the shower was still vivid—a story you could easily use to distract Penelope if it came to that.

You paused, your heart skipping a beat as you found the file. “Here it is,” you muttered, eyes scanning the information on Christopher Eriksen. You clicked to open it fully, Spencer already reading ahead of you.

“They found bruises all over his body when he was put into foster care,” he read aloud, his voice tense as the words sank in.

You leaned forward, your breath catching. “This is it,” you murmured. “His parents— they must’ve bought into that ‘perfect family’ image of the neighborhood, but behind closed doors, they were hiding this. Can you imagine what it must’ve been like for him? Everyone thinking his parents were saints, while they were hurting him? All the while, they’re the ones who get a memorial bench, their lives celebrated while they tortured him.”

“It was on Christmas that he was put into foster care. Now, it’s the first Christmas since he’s been out. It makes sense to go back to the place where it all started,” Spencer concluded.

“I need to go there,” you said urgently, slamming the laptop shut.

“Have you lost your mind?!” Spencer asked, bewildered. He immediately followed you as you rushed to the door, still in your pajamas. “You’re not seriously planning on going out like that?”

“It’s just a quick peek. I need to see if I was right about the bench,” you said, almost to yourself, already focused on the task ahead. You didn’t even glance behind you as you pulled on your shoes and yanked open the front door, wrapping Spencer’s cardigan tighter around yourself to ward off the cold.

In moments like these, Spencer knew exactly who had trained you. You were unmistakably like Gideon—determined, single-minded, and often impulsive once your mind was set. And that, in turn, always left Spencer in a state of mild panic.

“You can’t drive at night,” he said, his voice rising with concern as he followed you into the snow-covered yard. “You have nyctalopia!”

You didn’t stop, your focus unwavering. “You should take night-blindness seriously, it takes forever for your pupils to dilate, and by that time, you’ve already missed the stop sign or, I don’t know, hit a pothole or something. Your contrast sensitivity goes down, so objects blend into the background, and—did I mention the glare from headlights? Because that’s a huge problem, and it makes it worse! You’re already having trouble seeing, and now the glare from every car that passes is just blinding you. It's like trying to navigate in a fog, but it’s just light fog, which—okay, that’s a really bad analogy, but you get the point!”

His words fell into the background as you continued walking, your mind fully occupied with proving your theory. The case had been driving you mad. If you could just confirm that the bench was broken—that Christopher was the one who’d done it in a moment of anger—everything would click. The case would be solved. You’d give the Reynolds family peace. And, selfishly, you’d give yourself peace.

“Please,” Spencer begged, now standing in front of the car door, blocking your path. “If you’re going, at least let me drive.”

His comment made you halt in front of the car. “You hate driving,” you pointed out.

“I’d rather be uncomfortable for a few minutes than risk something happening to you,” he admitted.

You stared at him, feeling a surge of gratitude for how much he cared, how he believed your theory and was willing to go along with you. 

You reached out and took his hands. It was a gesture he rarely tolerated from anyone, but you’d learned over the years that Spencer appreciated it when it came from you. You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his. “Thanks, Spence,” you said softly, the words simple but your voice full of appreciation.

He swallowed, his eyes softening as he nodded. “We’ll just take a quick look, right?”

“I swear,” you promised, a reassuring smile tugging at your lips. “Just a quick look.”

He sighed, still clearly uneasy but unwilling to argue. You handed him the car keys and moved to the passenger side, sliding into the seat. 

—————

Spencer slowed the car as you neared the familiar area, the headlights casting long shadows over the snowy driveway.

"Let’s stop the car here," you suggested. The thought crossed your mind just in time—it would be very inappropriate to drive into a quiet neighborhood with an unknown car at this hour, especially after a murder had taken place.

You and Spencer stepped out of the car, the cold biting at your skin as you walked side by side. You stayed close to him, partly to keep warm, partly to follow his tracks through the snow, the dark pressing in around you. The Christmas lights that had lit up the neighborhood earlier were now off, leaving everything shrouded in an eerie quiet.

You made your way to the bench. Your hand skimmed over the smooth wood, lingering on the top right corner where you felt a distinct break—something sharp and jagged where a piece had clearly been broken off. You exhaled in relief. You were right.

Spencer’s hand shot out to gently grab your wrist, his fingers warm against the cold night air. "Careful," he said, his voice low but insistent. "You don’t want splinters. Stay here, I’ll grab a flashlight from the car."

You nodded, watching as his footsteps faded into the distance, swallowed by the thick darkness around you.

Alone now, you scanned the area. Everything was still and silent, save for the occasional crunch of snow beneath your feet. Your eyes were drawn to a dim light flickering from inside the rebuilt house where the Eriksens used to live, just past the bench. Curiosity nudged you forward, and before you could second-guess yourself, your feet were already moving toward the light.

You crept closer to the window, standing on your toes to peer inside. The house was barely furnished, still very much in the process of being worked on before it could be sold. You pressed your hands against the cold glass, forming makeshift goggles with your fingers, your face just inches away from the window as you tried to get a better look.

A sudden pressure on your stomach snapped you out of your thoughts. Before you could react, an arm tightened around your waist, yanking you away from the glass. For a brief moment you thought Spencer was playing some kind of prank, trying to startle you—but the movement was so fast and forceful, you knew Spencer would never grab you that aggressively.

Your gasp caught in your throat, immediately silenced as a cold, rough hand clamped over your mouth. Panic surged, but your body went stiff when the sharp edge of a knife pressed to your throat. You didn’t need any further confirmation that this was the unsub.

"I don’t know who you are," the voice rasped, low and dangerous, his breath hot and heavy in your ear. "But you shouldn’t have shown up here."

The tension in his voice was unmistakable. You could feel his rage, his plan disrupted by your unexpected presence. Every instinct screamed at you to fight back, but you remained frozen, knowing that one wrong move could end it all.

“I didn’t plan on killing anyone innocent, but you’ve put yourself in this situation,” he spat, his grip tightening on the knife.

In that fleeting moment, you made a decision. Taking a leap of faith, you sank your teeth into the soft flesh of his palm. The sudden bite startled him, and by sheer luck, he loosened his grip on the weapon.

“Christopher!” You shouted, the name ringing out with urgency.

It was enough to catch him off guard. In that instant, you turned, quickly positioning yourself with a better angle. He was taller than you—still, just a boy, consumed by something far beyond his control. His pain was evident, lurking beneath the fury in his eyes. You knew this wasn’t what he wanted. 

“Who are you?” His voice was strained, the words gripping with suspicion and confusion.

“I’m here to help you,” you said sincerely, keeping your voice steady.

“No, you’re not,” he denied.

“I swear I am. I know what happened to you. I know what your parents did to you.”

Without warning, he shoved you hard against the house. Your head slammed into the window, a sharp pain exploding in your skull. “You don’t know anything!” he screamed.

“I do, Christopher. I do!” The words came from a place of desperation, your breath ragged. “I understand. I know how much this eats at you, how alone you feel because you’re the only one who knows the truth. But it doesn’t have to be like this. You don’t have to hurt anyone else. The truth will come out. People will know what your parents did, what really happened here. You’ll get what you want, the world will see that they’re not perfect.”

For a split second, something flickered in his eyes—something soft, vulnerable. 

“They all knew what happened!” He said in anger, pointing at the houses surrounding you. “They all knew and no one said anything!” He shook his head, “I’ll never get what I want. It’s too late for that.” he muttered bitterly.

Despite his words, you felt a flicker of hope. He was talking. He was listening. That had to count for something.

“It’s not too late, Christopher,” you said, your voice gentle but firm. “I thought the same thing once. But family… family isn’t just the people you’re born to. You can build your own, one that will love you despite everything. I’ve got that family now.”

He swallowed hard, his face momentarily flickering with doubt. “I wish I could believe you,” he said, his voice quiet, tinged with regret.

And then, in a flash, his arm shot out. Instinctively, you braced yourself, squeezing your eyes shut, waiting for the inevitable strike.

As the seconds stretched on, memories—both regrets and cherished moments—flashed before your eyes, a cruel reminder of everything you had to lose.

But then, a loud thud echoed in the night. Christopher crumpled to the ground, his body going limp. You whipped your head up, heart in throat, and saw Spencer standing behind him, the butt of his gun covered in blood, the impact of the blow knocking Christopher out cold. 

A shaky breath escaped you, half a sob, half a gasp of relief. You stumbled toward Spencer, your legs nearly giving out as you threw yourself into his arms. 

“I’m so sorry,” you cried into his chest, voice cracking. “I was so stupid. I shouldn’t have—”

He shushed you softly, brushing a hand through your hair as he held you close. “It’s okay. You’re safe now,” he murmured, his voice soft and soothing. “I’m here. You’re safe.”

Twenty minutes later, the team and the police arrived. Spencer had called Hotch the second you’d calmed down enough, and by the time they got there, Christopher was still passed out. The officers dragged him into the back of their car, while JJ and Prentiss took it upon themselves to reassure the neighbors that they had someone in custody.

You knew exactly what was coming when Hotch finally made his way over to you and Spencer, but your head was pounding too much to care.

Hotch scanned the two of you with a sharp, disapproving look. “Really? You went to catch an unsub in your pajamas?”

“The whole ‘catching the unsub’ thing wasn’t exactly part of the plan,” you muttered, wincing slightly as the headache flared.

Hotch exhaled sharply, then turned to Spencer, his gaze a little more pointed. “I could’ve expected this from her, but I expected better from you, Reid.”

Spencer shifted uncomfortably, knowing there was no defense. “I’m sorry, sir.”

Hotch gave a sigh in response, his expression softening just a fraction. “I’m too tired to deal with the two of you right now. I expect to see both of you in my office in the morning.”

“Actually, I checked all the rooms in the cabin, and there’s no office. Which is surprising, considering—”

“Spence,” you interrupted him with a nudge of your elbow.

He shot you a tight-lipped look, turning back to Hotch. “We’ll see you tomorrow.”

—————

The second you closed the car door behind you and buckled your seatbelt, you passed out. You’d always slept best during car rides, and especially now, with your mind much quieter now that Christopher Eriksen wasn’t your problem anymore.

When you finally arrived back at the cabin, you were still sound asleep. Derek told Spencer to wake you, but he didn’t have it in him. Instead, he carefully made his way to your side of the car, unbuckling your seatbelt. He lifted you into his arms, trying not to huff too loudly as he carried you through the thick snow. He made his way up the stairs quickly, hoping Penelope wouldn’t notice the wet tracks from his boots inside the house—he couldn’t take them off while holding you.

He was glad you were in your pajamas as he gently laid you on the bed. He walked over to the closet, grabbing some extra blankets and draping them over you, hoping it would help you regain some warmth.

Then, he crawled into bed beside you. Closer than he would’ve dared if you were awake, not quite touching, but close enough to share body heat. His gaze lingered on you, watching how peaceful you looked. The night had been a lot to handle, but he knew he’d do it all again if it meant keeping you safe.

The bright light reflected off the snow outside, filtering into the room. Groaning, you rubbed your eyes, the movement only making your headache worse. You huffed and carefully opened your eyes, being met with the sight of Spencer. His hair was a curly mess, and a small, warm smile painted his face.

“Hey, how’s your head?” he asked softly.

The events of last night rushed back to you, and you groaned again. “So, all of that really happened?”

“It did,” Spencer confirmed.

“I really hoped I just got drunk on too much Glühwein,” you sighed, wincing at the thought.

“You can still do that tonight,” he teased.

“No,” you muttered in disgust. “I need to recover from this first.”

You glanced over at him again, seeing the concern still shining in his eyes.

“I’m sorry for putting you in that situation last night,” you said quietly. “Everything about it was just... stupid.”

“If you hadn’t insisted on going, who knows who else he could’ve hurt,” Spencer pointed out.

“I guess that’s true.” You thought about it for a second, the weight lifting slightly. “Still, I shouldn’t have dragged you into it.”

“I’m glad I went with you,” Spencer said, his voice softening. “If I hadn’t... I don’t want to think about what could’ve happened to you. I would never forgive myself if I wouldn’t have been there in time.”

You gave a heavy sigh, turning your gaze to the ceiling. “That’s why it’s probably best we stay friends,” you mumbled, more to yourself than to him. Despite Emily’s pep talk, this was proof that it wouldn’t be wise to start something serious with Spencer.

“Friends instead of what?” Spencer asked, his voice higher, as if eager to hear the answer.

“Instead of us dating,” you said, almost offhandedly, not realizing you were speaking aloud about something you’d never discussed before, even though the topic would come up eventually.

Spencer froze, his eyes wide, hope flickering in them as he looked at you. “You would date me?”

Your heart skipped a beat. You froze too, catching up with the fact that you had said that out loud. Your cheeks warmed, and you immediately turned your gaze to the ceiling, not daring to look at his expression.

“Uh—hypothetically,” you stammered, scrambling to cover your tracks.

“You would hypothetically date me?”

You swallowed, still too flustered to look at him. “Yes. If... you would, I mean. If you wanted that, too...?”

Spencer was silent for a beat, his gaze never leaving you. “Do you really mean that?”

“Yes,” you answered, your voice steady despite the racing thoughts in your head.

He slowly moved closer to you, his hand reaching out to cup your cheek. You flinched back instinctively, and he immediately withdrew his hand, his expression apologetic.

“What are you doing?” you asked, your heart beating faster.

“You said you’d want to date me,” he murmured, his voice unsure.

“Yes, but—” you stopped yourself as the realization hit that he was planning to kiss you. “Oh.”

Tentatively, you reached out and placed your hand on his cheek. You leaned in a little, but this time it was him who pulled back.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice breathless.

“Kissing you.”

“Oh,” he breathed out, his tongue darting over his lips. “Okay.”

You smiled softly, then closed the distance, your lips gently pressing to his.

Spencer hummed in satisfaction, both of you staying like that for a moment, neither of you wanting to pull away. You were the first to break the kiss, catching your breath. If it were up to Spencer, he’d keep his lips on yours forever.

Your eyes fluttered open, faces still inches apart. Spencer cupped your face and pulled you back in, placing several soft pecks on your lips before he leaned on his arm, slightly hovering over you as he deepened the kiss.

You tried to mirror his movements, but a sharp pain shot through your skull. “Ouch,” you hissed, pulling back.

“Just lay down, let me take care of you,” Spencer assured, the warmth of his words making your heart flutter. You slowly lower yourself onto your back, the soft sheets crinkling beneath you, and Spencer moves above you, the blankets still covering both of you.

His lips found yours again. He kept them slightly parted, giving you the chance to slide your tongue against his. The world outside seemed to disappear as you melted into each other, lips moving in sync.

The kisses become more heated, each one a little deeper than the last. His hand moved to cup your face, his thumb gently stroking your cheek, the other hand resting on your side, his touch sending little sparks of warmth wherever it brushed.

You could feel the heat between you growing. “I’m so warm…” you mumbled against his lips. 

His eyes darkened slightly. “Yeah?” His voice was rough as his fingers lightly trailed over the buttons of your pyjama shirt. “Do you want me to take this off?”

You nodded, and he slowly started undoing each button with purposeful care. His gaze flickering between your eyes and the exposed skin. He let out a moan when your shirt finally fell open, his eyes taking you in. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed out in awe, before pressing his lips to yours again. 

You responded eagerly, your hands fumbling between your bodies to undo his shirt in the same way. You slid the fabric off his shoulders, letting your hands run over the muscles of his back, feeling the heat of his skin. 

He gently pressed his body weight down on you, and you shuddered at the feeling of your nipples pressing against his bare chest.

His lips delicately kissed your face, until he reached your ear. He nipped at your lobe, sending a jolt of heat straight to your core. “Do you like that?” he murmured, his breath hot against your skin.

You answered in a soft moan, your body arching into him. He didn’t need to ask again; he could tell you were enjoying this as much as he was.

His lips slid lower, kissing and sucking on your neck, while his hand slid down to cup your breast, his thumb brushing over your nipple in slow, teasing circles.

His mouth moved to your collarbone, and then he teasingly dipped lower.

“God, Spence,” you softly moaned as he placed a wet kiss on your lower stomach. “That feels so good.”

His hand, which has been resting on your breast, trails down until it reaches the waistband of your pyjama pants.

“More, please,” you whimpered, lifting your hips instinctively. His fingers slide around the band as he slowly pulls them down, his eyes drinking in the sight of you.

He lowers himself onto his stomach on the mattress. With a tender touch, he lifts your legs over his shoulders.

“Is this okay?”

For a moment, you’ve lost yourself in his gaze—those warm brown eyes looking up at you, his pink lips swollen from his kisses…

“Y-yeah,” you manage to respond, nodding.

You moaned as his mouth made contact with your inner thighs, his tongue warm and wet against your skin. He took his time, kissing his way to the sensitive spot where you needed him most.

“Spencer…” you breathed, your voice shaky with need.

The anticipation was unbearable as his hot breath tickled you, but you didn’t have to wait much longer. Slowly, his tongue flicked over your pussy, and you gasped, your body trembling at the touch.

He moaned in response, as if he couldn’t get enough of the taste of you, his tongue swirling in soft, teasing motions that had your hips lifting off the bed in search of more. 

“So fucking sweet,” he muttered against you, before repeating the motion, licking you again and again, while he grinded himself against the matress.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, urging him closer, deeper, your body quivering as he continued. He alternated between sucking and licking your clit, his finger moving up and down your pussy until it entered you gently, then slowly adding another, the stretch an overwhelming pleasure. 

You gasped his name, your body writhing beneath him as the pressure built with every move. “Spencer… please, don’t stop…” you begged, voice thick with need.

His fingers curled inside you, pressing just the right spot as his tongue continued swirling around you. Your legs started trembling as you reached the edge.

“I’m—“ you gasped, but the words dissolved into a string of moans as the wave of pleasure crashed over you. Your legs were shaking as you came undone, clenching around his fingers, your hips bucking against his mouth. 

Spencer didn’t stop, though. He kept going at a gentle pace, letting you ride out the intensity of your orgasm. Then, he slowly pulled away, his lips glistening as he looked up at you, eyes wide and full of wonder. 

“Was that good?” he asked softly, licking his lips. 

You laughed breathlessly as you nodded, your chest still rising and falling rapidly. “Come here,” you whispered seductively, pulling him in by the back of his neck to kiss him. You could taste yourself on his lips, which only added to your arousal.

Spencer’s eyes darkened with desire, his forehead pressed to yours. “I need you. I need to be inside of you.”

You nodded, moving your hand down his body, feeling the hardness of him against your palm. He helped you pull his pants down, and you stroked him gently, feeling him twitch in your hand before guiding him toward your entrance. He let out a low groan, his eyes never leaving yours as he slowly pushed into you.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he moaned, his hips stuttering as he filled you completely. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer as his thrusts grew deeper, more urgent.

You could feel every inch of him, every movement as his cock repeatedly hit those places inside that made your head spin. The room was filled with the sound of skin against skin, your moans mixing with his ragged breaths.

“You’re so warm,” Spencer whimpered. “So perfect for me.” 

Your hands gripped his back, nails digging into his skin as you urged him on, your body moving with his. His pace quickened, and you couldn’t hold back the desperate cries that escaped you. 

“Spencer… I’m so close,” you gasped.

“Me too,” he moaned, his hips slamming into yours. “Let me come with you. Please, let me come with you.”

You nodded, your body trembling. “Now, Spencer…” you begged in a breathless plea.

His breath hitched, his body tensing as he gave one last deep thrust, and then, with a loud, guttural moan, he came inside you. You followed a moment later, your body clenching around him as you fell apart. 

The room was filled with nothing but your ragged breaths, the sound of two bodies, tangled in a quiet, shared moment of bliss. Spencer collapsed beside you, his chest rising and falling as he took your hand in his, pressing a soft kiss to the back of it.

“That was… perfect,” he whispered, his voice full of awe.

You smiled softly as you placed your head on his chest, fingers lazily tracing his stomach. “Yeah,” you said in a breath, your heart full of him. “It really was.”

You let out a soft groan as Spencer stood up, and you instinctively reached for his hand, pulling him back toward you. “Don’t go yet,” you pouted.

Spencer smiled, his eyes twinkling with a mixture of amusement and affection. “I’ve got something for you,” he said, wrapping a blanket around his waist before walking to the corner of the room. He rummaged through his bag, his back turned to you for a moment as you blatantly checked him out.

“I miss you,” you murmured, leaning back into the pillows.

He chuckled softly, glancing over his shoulder. “I’m not even five feet away from you.”

You shrugged, your voice a little teasing. “Still feels like you're miles away.”

With a smile, he walked back toward you, sitting down on the edge of the bed, his hands behind his back. “Which hand?” he playfully asked.

“Left,” you replied without hesitation.

He swiftly shifted the small box he’d been holding from his right hand to his left, then grinned, revealing the gift. “Here you go.”

You blinked in surprise. “That was your present?” you asked, your voice filled with wonder as you recognized the familiar wrapping Garcia had handed you the day before.

Spencer nodded, watching you closely. “Yeah. Open it.”

Your hands trembled slightly as you unwrapped the gift, your heart racing with excitement. Beneath the paper was a velvet black jewelry box. You glanced up at Spencer, your eyes searching his for reassurance. He gave a soft nod, his smile encouraging.

With a gentle flick of your fingers, you opened the box—and there, nestled inside, was the most stunning heart-shaped locket you’d ever seen.

“Oh my God, Spencer,” you breathed, your voice a mixture of awe and disbelief. “It’s… it’s beautiful.”

A shy smile tugged at Spencer’s lips as he ran a hand through his hair, pushing it behind his ear. “It used to be my mom’s,” he said. “She doesn’t wear jewelry much anymore, but she wanted me to keep it... to give it to someone special one day.”

Your heart melted at the thought, and you looked at him with newfound tenderness, the weight of his gesture sinking in. 

“She was happy when I told her I wanted to give it to you,” he added, his eyes soft with sincerity.

Your eyes widened slightly. “Your mom knows about me?”

Spencer nodded, a faint blush creeping up his neck. “I tell her pretty much everything. She likes hearing about you most.”

“Why?” You curiously asked.

Spencer's smile deepened, and he looked down at his lap for a moment, as though gathering courage. When he looked up at you again, his eyes were soft, full of love.

“Because you make me happy.”

After your intimate moment with Spencer, the inevitable conversation with Hotch had to happen. Just before the talk, Hotch received a call from the lab confirming the DNA found on the Reynolds matched Christopher Eriksen’s—meaning the bittersweet news of Christopher going to prison.

“I still don’t get how the two smartest people on the team act like half a brain when they’re together,” Hotch had said with a half-smile, glancing at you and Spencer. “But… you did good work.”

—————

Later that morning, Emily spotted you, her eyes immediately drawn to the locket around your neck. “Fancy,” she commented, her smirk growing as she cocked an eyebrow. “Where did that come from?”

You felt your cheeks heat up as you absently played with the necklace, a soft smile on your lips. “It’s Spencer’s. He gave it to me.”

Emily’s smirk turned into a knowing smile, and you could see the proud glint in her eyes. “You two are something else.”

—————

Throughout the day you and Spencer did your own thing, trying to act casual in front of the team—yet every time his hand brushed your back or he leaned in for a quick kiss in the empty hallway, your heart fluttered. You couldn’t help but sneak glances at him as he played chess with Rossi, your eyes catching his in those fleeting moments.

You felt Spencer’s presence behind you like a familiar warmth as you stood in the kitchen. He slipped his arms around your waist and buried his face in the crook of your neck, placing soft kisses.

“Who would’ve thought you’d be such a romantic?” you mused, running your fingers through his hair, the feeling of him against you enough to make your heart race.

His lips hummed against your skin. “It’s your fault,” he stated, his voice thick with affection. “You drive me crazy.”

You tugged him up the stairs to your shared room, pushing him playfully onto the bed. You stood between his legs as you began to slowly peel away your clothes, revealing the red laced lingerie set Derek had gifted you during Secret Santa.

“Never thought I’d be thanking Derek for gifting you this,” Spencer mused, his hands sliding up and down your legs, a smirk displayed on his lips.

You smiled, tracing his jaw with your thumb, the heat between you growing. “What do you think of checking out the hot tub?” you purred.

He swallowed nervously, his eyes flicking down to his lap. You rolled your eyes as you responded in a sigh, “You can choose the temperature.”

Before you could say another word, he scooped you up, lifting you over his shoulder with a playful slap to your ass. You yelped, giggling as he carried you off toward the bathroom.

—————

The cabin was large, but unfortunately not big enough to avoid Garcia, so you knew what was coming when you heard the familiar sound of her heels clicking against the hallway floor. She was heading straight toward you, her finger pointing accusingly at you.

“I slept with Spencer.” you hurriedly spilled out before she could say something.

She stopped in her tracks. Her face went through a thousand different expressions in the blink of an eye—confusion, disbelief, excitement—before she finally let out a high-pitched squeal. “You... you slept with Spencer?”

“Twice,” you giddily answered, the smile creeping across your face before you could stop it.

Garcia’s expression finally broke into a huge grin, and without missing a beat, she grabbed your hands and started bouncing on the spot. “Derek is gonna lose his mind!”

You barely had time to protest before she was already up the stairs.

As the end of the day drew near, the group gathered around the fire pit in the backyard, cocoa mugs in hand, the warmth of the flames casting flickering shadows on everyone’s faces. 

“Are you sure your phone is on silent?” Garcia asked Hotch, eyeing him with suspicion.

“I’m sure, Garcia,” Hotch replied with a small smile.

She was satisfied, her focus shifting to Rossi. “The honor is yours. You may present the last Secret Santa gift.”

Rossi cleared his throat, glancing around awkwardly. “Now, this might sound like a cheap excuse for forgetting to buy a present…” Laughter rippled through the group, and Garcia shot him an offended look. “But... I think I can speak for all of us when I say the best gift is us being together in this beautiful location.”

He turned to Hotch, his voice genuine. “Aaron, you’ve built a good team here. A good family. You should be proud.”

Hotch’s smile softened, his eyes briefly glancing over the group, the weight of the moment settling on him. “I am. Thank you, David.”

And for the first time, you didn’t question whether you deserved a place in this loving, dysfunctional family—you knew you belonged.

[kirammanswifey]

helloo!! can you please write about ‘arcane characters when you get in an argument’? i absolutely love ur writing btw!! 🫶🏻

arguments with arcane characters x fem reader

characters: viktor, jinx, vi, caitlyn, jayce, ekko, silco, mel and sevika.

writer's note: i love when you guys request this kind of interesting dynamics, it's so fun to write about it! also my favorite this time was sevika's, I meannn it was kinda hot and spicy. requests are open ;)

Viktor

The sound of the keys under his hands seems to fill the air, but what resonates most is the silence between the two of you. The room is steeped in an unsettling calm, while he keeps working as if nothing else exists. It’s been days since he last rested, and you know it. His skin is paler than usual, his eyes glassy, as if all the world's exhaustion is about to devour him. The scent of machine oil and metal permeates the room, but what hurts you most is the fragility of his being, the one he insists on ignoring.

Slowly, frustration begins to simmer within you. You love him more than anything in the world, but watching him so neglected, so absorbed in his work that he doesn’t even stop to eat, burns you.

You approach him, and suddenly, you can't take it anymore. Your tone isn't raised, but the fury is felt in every word. "Viktor, stop," you murmur, almost pleading. "You’re killing yourself. You haven’t eaten in days, not even slept. Do you know what you're doing? You're letting yourself go. Your body is crying out for help, and you're ignoring it."

He doesn’t look at you, doesn’t react. He keeps working as if your words don't reach him. Frustrated, you step closer. "You can't keep going like this, Viktor! What are you expecting? For someone to come and save you from yourself? This isn't just about your work, it’s about you!"

Finally, he looks up, but his eyes don’t seem to truly see you. Only a shadow of exhaustion. "I do it for them... for the people. The work... my research, it’s all that matters now."

"And you? Don’t you matter?" The anger mixes with something much deeper. Something that has to do with fear. "Your lack of self-love is so evident, Viktor, even I can see it. You're losing yourself in this obsession."

The words come out harsher than you intended. But seeing the flash of pain in his eyes, you realize what you've just said. A lump forms in your throat.

You fall silent, feeling the air grow thick. Guilt quickly invades you, and before you can think, you kneel in front of him. "Forgive me," you whisper, the anger already dissipated, replaced by sincere pain. "I didn't mean to be so harsh. It’s just... I don't want to see you like this, so lost. I don’t want you to hurt yourself because you are what I love most, Viktor."

Your hands tremble as you take his face in yours. "Please, take care of yourself. I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to see you like this anymore, fighting alone against everything. Because, to me, you are everything."

Viktor says nothing at first. He just watches you, the conflict in his gaze. Then, as if releasing a sigh he had been holding for too long, he responds softly, "I’ll try... I promise I’ll try."

You look at him with a mix of relief and sadness. Finally, you stand up and take his hand firmly. "Now come with me. I’m going to make your favorite dinner. You need it."

The change in his expression is almost imperceptible, but it’s there. Something in his face softens, and for the first time in a long while, he gives you a faint smile. "You know, that sounds wonderful," he says with a tone that mixes surprise and gratitude.

As you prepare dinner, the atmosphere changes. The tension slowly dissolves, but there’s something else in the air, a silent understanding between you two. After dinner, you look at him with a mischievous smile.

"Viktor," you say, your voice full of complicity. "How many days have you gone without bathing? Because, honestly, I think it’s time you do."

He visibly shifts in discomfort, his face taking on a pink hue. "Honestly... I don’t know," he replies, as if trying to evade the question, looking down. "The truth is, I haven’t had time to think about those things."

Your laugh is soft but teasing. "I think you’ve forgotten a bit about yourself. So, what do you think if after dinner, we take a bath together?"

Viktor blushes even more, but before he can say anything, he has already conceded, and with an exaggerated formality only he can pull off, he responds, "Well... that... that would be very pleasant. If you don’t mind, of course."

The tension from before has transformed into something softer, lighter. You, amused by his so formal response, take his hand and lead him to the bathroom, feeling that, in that moment, all that really matters is that he’s finally willing to take care of himself.

Jinx

The sound of the spark igniting the fuse fills the room. Jinx has a playful smile on her face, but something isn't right. The bomb is making strange noises, as if it's about to fail. The sparkle in her eyes fades for a second, but it's accompanied by a nervous chuckle.

"What's wrong, Jinx?" you ask, raising an eyebrow. The moment feels out of place, and for a moment, you sense that something is very wrong, very out of control. "That... doesn't sound right."

But she just stands there, watching the bomb intently. She doesn't move. The air grows heavy, and suddenly, the bomb makes a terrifying click.

Your eyes widen as you see the timer on the bomb speeding up. A chill grips you, and in an instant, you act on instinct. You leap toward the table, your breath quickening, and deactivate the bomb just before it fully triggers. The explosion is seconds away from ringing in your ears, but you manage to stop it.

A sigh of relief escapes your lips, and you quickly turn to face Jinx. She’s still there, motionless, her eyes fixed on the deactivated bomb, as if hypnotized. She doesn't look scared or relieved, just... empty.

"Why didn't you do anything?" you confront her, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and disbelief. "Why did you just stand there? You could have died, Jinx! We could have both died!"

Jinx stares at the floor, her demeanor shifting in a second. The mockery dissolves, the mask falls, and in its place appears the scared girl she so often hides. "I... just wanted to see what would happen." Her response is soft, trembling, as if she doesn't know how to process what just happened.

Those few seconds of silence feel eternal. The air around you grows heavy, as if the whole world is waiting for something else to explode. And it does. You can't take it anymore. Fury takes over, and you lash out at her.

"What did you want to see, Jinx?" Your voice is harsh, filled with frustration. "Did you want to see us both die because of your stupid curiosity? Is that what you wanted?"

Jinx shrinks, her expression transforming into something so fragile it burns your heart. Her face is filled with regret, but her eyes can't meet yours. Tears begin to well up in her eyes, but she keeps staring at the floor, feeling small and scolded.

"I didn't mean to... I swear..." she murmurs, almost in a whisper, her words choked by the pain of having gone too far.

Your rage starts to dissipate, replaced by something deeper. An irrational fear, the anguish of watching Jinx destroy herself. You walk toward her, kneel to her level, and gently take her chin, lifting it so she looks at you.

What you see stops you cold. Jinx's nails are deeply embedded in her palms, red marks that have hurt her, as if she wants to punish herself for something. You stare at her intently, the pain reflected in her eyes and her gesture.

Quickly, you take her hands, without saying a word, and kiss them softly, your lips touching the small wounds on her skin. The blood from her hands stains your lips, but you don't care. "You know I hate seeing you destroy yourself," you murmur, your voice broken by the fear you still feel. "Please, Sweets, don't do this to yourself. Don't do this to us."

You stay still, waiting for her reaction. Finally, the door that had closed in her heart opens, and Jinx lets out a deep sob. Tears fall down her face, like an unexpected rain, and her body trembles.

"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..." Jinx sobs, clutching you tightly. There are no more laughs, no more jokes. Just pure pain. And you hold her with equal intensity, rocking her in your arms, trying to soothe her, to erase the suffering she always carries inside.

"Pain isn't the solution," you whisper, stroking her braided hair, trying to convey all the love you feel for her. "I'll always be here for you, Sweets. You don't have to carry all this alone."

She remains silent for a moment, her sobs calming, but her embrace is still desperate. Finally, after a few seconds, her eyes lift, and with a small smile, she says:

"So... want to make bombs, but in a fun way? With less blood this time!"

The laughter that follows fills the room, and even though you know the battle isn't won, this small step in her recovery gives you renewed hope. Taking her hand, you lead her back to the table with the tools, ready for another night filled with madness... but this time, with a little more care.

Vi

The air in the Undercity feels heavy tonight, a cold that seems to seep into your bones. The sound of metal echoing through the structures, the distant murmurs of shouts and laughter, mix with the echo of your footsteps on the iron bridge that crosses the dark, grimy avenue. You walk in silence, but the tension in the air is palpable.

Suddenly, a drunk, staggering with a vacant stare, approaches you. The stench of alcohol wafts from his breath, and his eyes settle on you in a not-so-friendly way. His rough, hollow laughter resonates in the air, as if nothing he was about to do mattered.

Before you can react, his hands touch your backside without warning, sending a wave of revulsion through you and a shiver down your spine.

A choked scream escapes you, but before you can push him away, you feel Vi’s furious gaze, like a storm about to break loose. The anger on her face is palpable, and not a second later, the drunk is on the ground, receiving blows that thunder like hammers. His face is soon covered in blood, and the sound of fists pounding against his body leaves a disturbing feeling in the air.

Vi doesn’t stop; each punch is more brutal than the last. People in the distance quickly disperse, leaving only the echo of the hits. Your heart races, worry consumes you as you watch Vi unleash her uncontrollable fury.

"Vi, stop!" You lunge toward her, but in the process, one of her fury-fueled punches lands directly on your lip. The immediate pain stuns you, and when you touch your face, your hand is filled with blood. The split lip burns. Vi stops abruptly, looking at her bloodstained knuckles—her own, the drunk’s, and now yours.

She stands frozen, her face, once filled with rage, now shows a look of horror. “Oh, God…” she murmurs, seeing what she has done.

You tremble, not just from the pain in your lip but from the brutality of her actions. You’re not used to violence, not on this magnitude. Fear knots in your chest, and you let out a shaky sigh as you watch Vi, her face now wrecked with guilt.

"I didn’t mean to!" Her voice is broken, as if the guilt is overwhelming her.

“Let’s go home,” you respond coldly, more out of fear than anger, "and when we get there, we’ll talk."

The walk home is silent, the tension hanging between you like a taut string about to snap. When you arrive, you enter the kitchen and quickly tend to your lip, while Vi watches silently, unable to articulate a word.

Once you finish, you turn to her. The air is thick with the weight of what’s unsaid. “Vi…” you begin, your voice soft but firm. “You need to learn to control your anger. This time, you just didn’t hurt someone else. This time, it was me too. Me, the person you love the most. Do you realize that? Do you realize how I felt when your blows landed on me?”

Her eyes fill with tears, and her throat tightens as if she wants to say something, but the words are stuck in her chest. “I’m so sorry… I’m so, so sorry,” she whispers, her voice breaking.

You continue, your words coming out with more pain than you expected. “Sometimes… I’m afraid of you, Vi. Not because of what you might do to others, but because of what you might do to me. I don’t want to live in fear of your rage hurting me. It hurts so much. It hurt so much.”

Vi collapses in front of you, breaking down. Her tears fall one after another, and she throws herself into your arms, holding you in a desperate embrace. “I don’t know why I’m like this… I don’t know how… how to control it. I always have this rage inside, and sometimes I don’t know how to stop it. When it explodes, everything goes to hell, I know…” Her voice cracks as she clings to you. "I don’t want to hurt you, I don’t want to hurt you."

The softness in her tone hits you harder than any punch, and in that moment, you know she understands. "Vi, I… I don’t want you to hurt anymore," you murmur, caressing her back. "I don’t want that rage to control you."

She pulls back slightly, looking into your eyes, her face soaked in tears. “I’m so sorry. I swear it wasn’t my intention… but sometimes…” her words trail off in a sigh.

A small, sad smile forms on your face. “Have you thought about boxing? Maybe it’ll help you release all that. And I’ll go with you! But promise me you won’t use me as a punching bag, okay?" you joke with a smile, trying to lighten the moment.

Vi finally laughs, a laugh that feels like relief. “I promise. Just, please, don’t leave me, okay?”

You approach her, tenderly kissing her, careful to avoid the wound on your lip, and you feel the softness of her lips, the calm that finally settles between you. “I would never leave you, babe,” you whisper as you both embrace, knowing that, even though everything is complicated and painful, there is something between you that always keeps you together.

Caitlyn

The door bursts open, and Caitlyn enters the room with a face marked by a fury that seems to burn inside her. Your eyes lift from where you're sitting, a little surprised by her abrupt entrance, but you quickly see what has been happening.

"I can't believe what I had to hear today," Caitlyn throws out, her voice cold and cutting as she drops her jacket on a chair. "All because of your... damn ideas of justice. Do you have any idea what that means in this place?"

You stand up slowly, the tone of her voice making the air grow denser, heavier. "What happened, Cait?" you ask, though part of you already knows it has something to do with her ideals.

"It's not just what happened, it's what's happening. All the damn time," she responds, walking toward you with contained rage. "You go on and on about doing what's right, without understanding that ‘right’ isn’t always what people in high places think. You think you can change something, but all you're doing is making it worse."

Your heart races, and a spark of frustration rises in your chest. "Make it worse?" you repeat, feeling indignation begin to spill out of you. "Is that what you think? That my actions aren't worth it? You're so blinded by your perfect view of the world that you can't see what's really going on in the streets! Evil isn't just in the ‘high society,’ Caitlyn. It's everywhere."

Caitlyn looks at you with an intensity that almost seems defiant, but also wounded. "I'm not blind, the problem is that I can't understand why you keep going against the whole system. Every time you do, you just feed more chaos. You have to think about the consequences, about the people who can't afford those ideals you're defending like you're some fairy-tale hero. Not everyone can afford that luxury."

"A luxury?" Your voice rises slightly, now stronger. "What you call 'luxury' should be a right. Do you really not understand that people are suffering? That your 'system' is letting all of this crumble just to maintain power? I can't just stand by because you think it's fine because it looks neat from your tower."

Caitlyn steps back, as if your words hit some deep place inside her. "Not everything is as simple as ‘good’ and ‘evil.’ Sometimes things aren’t black or white. Sometimes you have to make concessions to move forward. What you’re doing is just putting yourself in the center, without understanding that there’s more at stake."

The words hang in the air between you two, and the intensity of the argument seems to rise with every exchange. Caitlyn is so convinced of her point of view that you can't help but feel frustrated by the barrier between you.

"What I understand, Caitlyn," you finally say, with a tense calm, "is that sometimes you do more harm by trying to follow the rules than by breaking them. And I know your intentions are good, but I can't stay silent watching you justify the unjustifiable."

Caitlyn closes her eyes for a moment, as if taking a breath to calm herself. When she opens them again, something has changed. It’s not that her anger has disappeared, but she seems more exhausted, as if all this is wearing her down. "I’m not asking you to agree with me. I'm just asking you to understand that sometimes, even if it hurts, decisions aren’t as easy as you see them."

There's a long silence between you, the air thick with discomfort and tension. You both know you're not going to come to an agreement this time, but you also know that won't change what lies between you.

Finally, Caitlyn sighs and sits on the edge of the table, letting the exhaustion take over her. "Sometimes I feel like I can't do anything right, no matter what I try," she murmurs, more to herself than to you. "And you... you make me see everything that's wrong with me."

You move a little closer, calmer but still hurt. "Cait, that's not what I want. What I want is for you to realize you don’t have to carry all of this on your own. You don’t have to keep walking down this path if it doesn't make you happy. I’m here for you, even when we don’t agree."

Caitlyn looks at you, her eyes reflecting some vulnerability, something she doesn't usually show. "I know. I just… I’m scared that I could lose everything I’ve built because... because I don't know when to stop."

You sit next to her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You’re not going to lose it, Cait. No matter how much we fight, what matters is that we’re in this together. But you also have to learn to take care of yourself, not just the world."

Caitlyn nods slowly, and for the first time in a long while, a small smile appears on her face, though it’s sad. "I guess sometimes I forget that."

The tension begins to dissipate, although the brush of differences is still there. Deep down, you both know that these kinds of discussions won’t end anytime soon, but you also know that you're both moving forward for something bigger than the disagreement.

Jayce

There was something heavy in the air that night. An uncomfortable silence that hadn't been able to break for the past few days. Despite being in the same house, in the same room, you felt farther away from Jayce than ever. It wasn't just the lack of physical contact, it wasn't just the absence of the small gestures that usually made everything work between you. It was something deeper, something that had been growing inside you without him realizing it.

Finally, you couldn’t hold it any longer. You sat on the bed, staring into the emptiness in front of you, and when he walked in, that feeling of discouragement completely overwhelmed you. Without looking at him, you started.

“Jayce, I don’t know what to think anymore,” you said, your voice quiet but firm. “It’s been days since… since we’ve had anything. And I’m not just talking about sex, I’m talking about everything. I don’t even feel like you desire me anymore.”

Jayce, who had been in his own world as usual, looked up at you, confused by your words. “What are you saying, honey?” Surprise was evident in his voice, but it wasn’t enough to calm the torrent that had been unleashed inside you.

“You don’t get it, do you?” You stood up from the bed, walking towards him, words pouring out like a torrent. “Every day, I feel like I’m just here, fitting into your perfect life. Everything we do, everything we plan, it feels like you’re doing it because you have to. What about what I want, Jayce? What about us?”

Jayce took a step towards you, opening his arms as if he wanted to get closer, but something in your gaze made him stop. “No… I don’t understand. What do you mean by fitting into my perfect life?”

Your breathing quickened. “What I mean is that sometimes, I feel like I’m just an accessory, another piece in the puzzle you’ve been putting together. Like what matters most to you is making everything look right, fitting, but not us. I don’t feel desired, Jayce. I feel empty, like I don’t matter, like I’m just here because I fit into your life, not because you actually want to be with me.”

The pain in your voice was palpable, and although Jayce tried to step closer, you moved away from him. “I’m so tired of feeling like we’re nothing more than two people sharing a space. There’s no passion, no connection… Just the idea of what’s expected of us.”

Jayce looked completely lost, like he never imagined you felt this way. “I can’t believe you’re saying this. You know how important you are to me. But I… I’ve been so focused on work, on everything we need to achieve, that…”

“That what?” you interrupted, unable to keep bearing what felt like a pile of excuses. “That you’re too busy to see what’s right in front of you? I have my own problems too, Jayce. Not everything revolves around your projects, your perfect image. I’m a person too, and my feelings matter too.”

The words hung in the air, between rage and pain. Jayce didn’t say anything, and that only increased the feeling of abandonment you were experiencing. Frustration and sadness took over you more and more. Finally, the silence was broken, but not in the way you expected.

“Honey…” Jayce started, his voice softer now, but still full of confusion. “I didn’t want to make you feel this way. I didn’t realize I was leaving you out. I didn’t want you to feel… unwanted.”

Your eyes filled with tears, the emotional pressure of being unheard for so long finally bursting. “I don’t want to be just another option in your life. I want to be loved, I want to feel desired, I want you to look at me like you’re afraid of losing me. And I don’t feel that from you. I feel like everything we do is a routine, just fulfilling what’s supposed to be.”

Jayce slowly approached, now understanding the gravity of your words. “I… I don’t know how I didn’t see all this. I’m sorry, honey. I really am. I don’t want to lose you. I’ve been so focused on everything else that… I’ve failed you.”

A heavy silence fell between you. You didn’t know what to think, just felt a knot in your stomach, but when Jayce took a step towards you, taking your hands, you couldn’t help but look him in the eyes, searching for some sign that he truly understood how you felt.

“Please don’t leave me,” he whispered, his tone full of sincerity. “I promise I’ll change, I won’t take you for granted. You’re the most important thing to me, and if I made you feel like you weren’t, it hurts me deeply.”

You looked at him intently, seeing in his eyes the truth of his regret. “I know… but I need you to act instead of just saying it.”

Jayce nodded, a glimpse of a smile appearing on his face as his hands caressed yours. “I will. From now on, you and I… we’re a priority.”

Your heart lightened hearing those words, and when he hugged you, you held him tightly, knowing that the road to healing that disconnection wouldn’t be easy, but at least, finally, there was a beginning. And that promise to rebuild what had been lost was all you needed to start healing.

Ekko

That afternoon, it felt like the tension between you and Ekko was thicker than ever. You had been working together on a project, and the small jokes and dismissive attitudes from Ekko, which you usually let slide, began to affect you more than you expected.

"Wow, did you really think that was a good idea?" Ekko said, his biting tone making the sarcasm leave a bitter taste in his mouth.

Your breath became heavier, and although you tried to ignore it, something inside you snapped. You looked at him, furious, and without thinking twice, dropped the tool you had in your hands. "You know what? I'm leaving."

Ekko looked at you, somewhat surprised by your reaction, but before you could walk away any further, he let out a light laugh, as if nothing was happening. "What's up, got your period or something?"

That was the breaking point.

You stopped in your tracks, feeling a lump form in your throat. You turned to him with eyes shining with frustration. "You know what, Ekko? It's because of you. Because sometimes you don't seem to think about what you say, and you don't care how I feel."

Ekko furrowed his brow, trying to understand what you were saying, but before he could speak, you continued venting.

"You make me feel like my problems don't matter, like everything I do isn't up to your standards. Always so... so carefree, like you never have to think about how your words affect me. Have you ever thought about that?" Rage and pain built up in your voice as you spoke, but the words kept pouring out like an avalanche.

And then, without warning, what you hadn’t been able to say before came flooding out. "You know what's the worst? That I feel insecure, Ekko. I feel like I'm not good enough for you, like I'm not smart enough, not attractive enough... Because you never show jealousy, you never show anything. Like you never care. And that makes me doubt myself."

Ekko went silent, looking at your face in surprise, an expression that showed he finally understood what you had just said. The mockery from his previous joke faded, and his face shifted from confusion to deep seriousness.

"I... I didn't know you felt that way," he said finally, his words soft and filled with guilt. "I never meant to make you feel that way. I'm sorry, really. I'm not good at showing what I feel, I've never been."

He slowly approached you, not trying to interrupt the flow of your emotions. "You know, I grew up in a world where showing emotions was seen as weakness. Life never gave me time to process them. Since I was a kid, I was always at war, always on the move, always worried about surviving. But I never wanted that to affect you."

Your eyes softened a little as you listened to his words, and for a moment, the weight of frustration lifted slightly. "I... I didn't want you to think I cared less. It's just that sometimes, I get so caught up in my own stuff that I forget that the people close to me also have feelings. And I don't want you to feel belittled, I don't want you to feel like you're not enough."

There was a tense silence between you both, but something in his tone softened the atmosphere. "I'm sorry, really. It was never my intention to hurt you. You're incredible just as you are, and you make me feel like I can be more, like I can improve."

For a moment, everything seemed to calm down, but Ekko, with a mischievous smile, added, "And if it helps, yeah, I do worry a little when others look at you. But I'm not so good at showing jealousy."

You couldn't help but smile a little, even though you still felt the open wounds. Ekko, seeing this, moved a bit closer and gave you a gentle hug, as if it were a small gesture of comfort you so needed.

"I really care about you. I don't want you to feel insecure. I don't care if you're smarter or not, because what really matters to me is that you're you."

And before you could respond, Ekko joked with his usual playful attitude. "Although, if I ever catch you with someone else, you'd better be ready, because I’m not going to sit still."

You laughed despite everything, feeling the tension slowly disappearing, as if everything you had kept inside had finally found a way out.

"I love you too," you replied, as you hugged him again, knowing that, although the path wouldn’t always be easy, at least you both understood each other a little more.

Silco

Silco's office was shrouded in shadows, barely illuminated by the dim glow of a lamp on his desk. The phone conversation he was having was filled with frustration. "No, that won't work. We need something more decisive, something more substantial," he growled before hanging up with a sharp click that echoed through the wood.

From your position at the door, you could hear every word, feeling the tension in the air. You couldn’t help but intervene. "Maybe you could try..." you began, suggesting a plan you had come up with after hearing his problem.

Silco looked up at you, his cold, calculating eyes locking onto yours. "Shut up. You don't know anything about this," he snapped with disdain, his words cutting through you like a knife.

The coldness in his voice felt like a blow to the chest. Without saying another word, you turned around and stormed out of the office, slamming the door with a force that resonated down the hallway. Frustration burned in your chest as you climbed the stairs to your room.

Surprised by your reaction, Silco followed. Reaching the closed door, he knocked forcefully. "Open the door immediately!" he shouted, his tone a mix of anger and confusion.

"I won't! Go away!" you replied from inside, your voice trembling with both rage and pain. A sound from inside made his heart race. Fearing the worst, he broke down the door without thinking twice.

Inside, he found you packing your things with trembling hands. "What the hell are you doing?" he demanded, his eyes fixed on you, trying to understand the magnitude of your decision.

"I'm done, Silco. Done with you not seeing me as someone capable of helping you, done with you constantly underestimating me," you declared, your voice trembling but resolute. "I’m a human being, just like you, and I can handle matters and plans. I’m not just a decoration in your world."

Silco scoffed, crossing his arms in impatience. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Do you want me to buy you something? You look hysterical."

That was the breaking point. You turned to face him, your eyes fiery and filled with tears. "Silco, remember where you found me. I was a worker in that horrible brothel, sold by my parents at eleven. I thought that by freeing myself, I would have a voice, that finally someone would see me as an equal. But it’s not like that. You don’t even listen to me."

Silco looked at you, his eyes softening as the weight of your words sank in. He approached you cautiously, his fingers touching your cheek with an unusual tenderness. "It's not personal," he murmured, his voice heavy with regret. "I’ve always been like this, I prefer to work alone. I’ve been through so much to earn respect in the Undercity that sometimes I minimize the opinions of others. But I never meant for you to feel this way, not you."

The wall of pain you had built began to crack under the weight of his words. "I’ll change. From now on, I’ll listen to what you have to say. In fact, tell me that plan you were going to propose earlier."

A pause lingered, but then, with a sigh, he added: "But before that, there’s something more important."

His words echoed in the silence before Silco took you by the waist, pulling you toward him. He kissed you with a passion that overflowed with unspoken apologies, a fire that spoke of promises of change and a renewed understanding between you both.

Mel

The luxurious bedroom was bathed in soft lights that enhanced the golden and ivory tones of the walls. You turned in front of the mirror, admiring how the dress flowed around your body, highlighting your curves and cascading elegantly in a fabric waterfall. The excitement of the night reflected in your eyes, waiting for Mel's approval.

When you stepped out of the dressing room, the smile on your lips quickly faded as you noticed the disapproving expression on her face. Mel looked you up and down, her gaze critical and stern. "Take it off," she ordered in a cold, distant tone. "Put on the one I chose for you."

You frowned, surprised. "Why? What's wrong with this one?"

"It’s not that there's anything wrong with it," she replied, crossing her arms with an air of authority. "It’s just not what I want for you tonight. Change your makeup and hairstyle as well. Something more sophisticated would be better."

The heat rushed to your cheeks, a mix of embarrassment and anger. "Nothing I do is good enough for you, right?" you exclaimed, your eyes sparking with indignation. "It feels like you always have to correct me."

Mel raised an eyebrow, her voice firm and unapologetic. "You should be grateful. I'm helping you make the most of your appearance. I need us to be perfect tonight."

"You mean you need to be perfect," you corrected, unbuckling your heels and throwing them to the floor with a sharp sound. "Because I'm not going anywhere."

Without waiting for a response, you made your way to the terrace, needing fresh air to calm the whirlwind of emotions stirring inside you. The cool breeze caressed your face as you leaned on the railing, trying to hold back tears.

It wasn’t long before Mel appeared behind you, her elegant silhouette illuminated by the moonlight. "Why are you acting like this?" she asked, her voice softer now, but still tinged with confusion.

"Seriously, Mel?" you turned to face her, your voice shaking with frustration. "Nothing I do seems right to you. You always correct me—the way I walk, the way I talk, and now even the color of my lipstick. It’s extreme and stupid."

Mel looked at you with a mix of surprise and reflection, as if your words had struck her for the first time. "I hadn’t thought of it that way," she finally admitted, her voice quieter. "I guess... I’m really hard on myself, and I project it onto others."

You took a deep breath, your eyes still shining with contained emotion. "I don’t want you to be like that with me. I’m not an extension of your standards, Mel."

Silence stretched between you for a moment before Mel took a step forward, enveloping you in a firm, comforting hug. "I’m sorry," she whispered, her voice breaking slightly. "I didn’t mean to make you feel that way. You’re fine just as you are, and I apologize for projecting my insecurities onto you."

You leaned into her, feeling the tension slowly fade. "I understand," you replied softly. "I know you were raised to be perfect. But please, when you feel those things, communicate them in a different way. Don’t impose them."

Mel nodded, her gaze meeting yours with a mix of regret and affection. "I will," she promised. "Please, come with me to the party. Without you, I won’t have the strength to go."

You hesitated for a moment, looking at yourself with insecurity. Mel noticed and gently cupped your face in her hands. "That dress looks amazing on you," she said with a warm smile. "It highlights everything I love about you."

Her words and the kiss that followed dispelled any doubt, filling you with renewed confidence as you agreed to accompany her, knowing this time, you would go as yourself, not as a perfected version to satisfy Mel's standards.

Sevika

The apartment door opened slowly, revealing Sevika's figure in the dim light. She walked in with tired steps, the weight of the night reflecting on her shoulders. You, who had been waiting patiently for her return, stood up from the couch with relief, but as you approached to embrace her, something stopped you. A strange scent, sweet and foreign, emanated from her skin, a fragrance that didn’t belong to any perfume you knew her to wear.

Your heart raced as you took a slight step back, your eyes fixed on her. "Who were you with?" you asked, trying to keep your voice calm, although a mix of anxiety and distrust began to rise within you.

Sevika looked at you in surprise, not understanding the reason for your unease. "I was at the bar, drinking. My ex joined me, we talked a bit, had a good time." She said it with such casualness that every word pierced you like a poisoned dart.

Anger began to bubble up inside you. "Why are you talking about it so casually?" you spat, feeling your voice start to tremble.

She frowned, confused. "What do you mean?"

"You shouldn’t have gone out with your ex!" you exclaimed, frustration coloring your words. "You owe me respect."

Sevika crossed her arms, her gaze hardening. "I do what I want," she replied coldly. "If you don’t trust me, maybe you should leave."

Your eyes widened at her comment. The idea of walking out that door tempted you, but sadness and rage kept you rooted to the ground. "Is that what you want?" you whispered, your voice shaking. "For me to leave?"

Sevika seemed to realize the weight of her words. She took a step toward you, extending her hand as if trying to stop you. "Wait, I didn’t mean that," she murmured, her tone softer, almost pleading. "You know I’m impulsive."

"Of course, impulsive... and nostalgic too," you replied bitterly, your eyes burning with contained pain. "You miss your ex, don’t you? You want to get back together with her?"

She frowned, stepping closer until her hands rested on your shoulders. "What’s your problem?" she asked, her voice low but firm. "Why are you saying all these things?"

The emotions you had kept under control for so long finally exploded. "Because I’ve been cheated on before!" you confessed, tears beginning to well up in your eyes. "I know the patterns when I see them. I don’t want to feel stupid and used again."

The hardness in Sevika’s expression melted away, replaced by deep understanding. Her hands, once firm, slid down your arms in a gesture of comfort. "I’m not those people, you shouldn’t compare me to anyone," she said, her voice firm but full of empathy. "If I didn’t want to be with you, I would tell you. I don’t need to lie to anyone. I love you, only you."

Her sincerity pierced your insecurities, breaking down the wall of fear you had built. Still, doubts lingered. "Then why did you go out with her?" you asked, still needing an explanation.

"Because it was a coincidence," Sevika explained, her gaze sincere. "We ran into each other by chance, and I thought there was nothing wrong with sharing a couple of drinks. But now I see it bothers you, and I don’t want to do anything that makes you feel this way."

Her words resonated within you, slowly calming the internal storm. You nodded, allowing the warmth of her promise to envelop you. "I want to believe in you," you whispered.

Sevika stepped closer, her lips finding yours in a deep kiss, full of promises and silent regrets. When she pulled away, her soft voice broke the trance. "Are you better?" she asked, gently caressing your cheek.

"I'll be better when you take a shower and get that cheap perfume off," you joked, your tone still slightly irritated but with a hint of humor.

Sevika laughed, a low, guttural sound that echoed in the space between you. She pulled you by the waist, drawing you even closer. "Then I’m going to need your help," she whispered in your ear, her voice laden with seduction. "Tonight, I feel especially incapable."

Your smile widened, a spark of mischief lighting your eyes. "I guess I can help with that," you murmured, letting the intimacy of the moment take over, knowing that despite everything, you were in the place you wanted to be: by her side.

[another-random-paradise]

Your writing was adorable! I have a headcanon request for TWST. Feel free to ignore if it's not interesting, I won't mind. (￣▽￣)=3

Lilia, Leona, Azul (or whomever as long as Lilia is there)'s reaction to crush!reader sleepily telling them they want to marry them one day.

I'm a sap for mushy things. ˘͈ᵕ˘͈

A sleepy confession

Thank you so much for the request, it's adorable!! and of course, thank you for the compliments too! I'm a sucker for mushy things too, so this was so much fun to write!

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

Crush!Reader sleepily telling him, they want to marry him / Part two

Characters: Lillia, Leona, Azul

Format: Headcanons

Warnings: None that i can think off

Lillia

-you probably found silver asleep somewhere comfortable and instead of waking him up like usual (cause you're a good friend) you decide to also lay down and sleep... You most likely had History with professor Trein before this.

-Lillia just happened to be nearby, or maybe he was keeping an eye on silver, yk, like a good dad :D

- If you're napping under a tree, he might just be sitting on one of the branches

-You'd sleepily look up to him on the branches, as the old fae smiles down at you, and you, probably already half a sleep and maybe even thinking it's a dream, mumble out a soft "I wanna marry you one day.." 

-poor guy almost fell out off the tree

-you can't just do that to his old heart!! You can and you did

-his expression would soften, like he'd still be smiling, but it wouldn't be his typical trickster kinda smile (please tell me you know what i mean)

-Despite his usual attitude, I feel like he was very worried about loving you. I'm a huge believer in the Idea that fae usually only fall in love once, so after Meleanor, he believed that was it, he'd never love again. And then you came into his life, like a shining star, guiding him out of the darkness.  

-While he was grateful that he got a second chance at love, especially with someone as amazing as you, it's also nerve wrecking for him. The last and only time before this, he had his heart broken and ended up raising her son. Just the thought of the same thing happening again terrified him.

-But after what you just said, he won't need to worry about that anymore, right?

-Now he just needs to come up with the best way to confess... maybe he could cook you something! 

Leona

-Due to Leona being a bit of a tsundere, I don't feel like he'd get you to cuddle/sleep with him before officially dating

-BUT, if you two got paired together for a project, especially if it's in the botanical garden, chances are very high, you are doing the project and he's napping

-and doing a project by yourself gets you tired, especially one meant for magic as a magicless student, so you eventually lie down next to him

-due to his sensitive hearing, he lazily opens eyes, and sees you, already half asleep, looking at him, confusing him at first not that he's complaining, till.. "Despite you making me do this project by myself, i somehow i still wanna marry you some day" and just like that you're asleep.

-He, on the other hand, is suddenly very wide awake. 

-what?? you didn't mean that, right?? that's just the tiredness speaking, right?? you couldn't have meant that, right? why, or rather how, could you like him of all people?....He can't imagine being anyone's, let alone your, first choice. He's so used to being second.

-For the first time in forever, he is fully awake and can't go back to sleep, just what are you doing to him, Herbivore? 

-But this means you like him back, right? alright fine, he'll put some work into confessing, just don't expect anything to grand

-He'd still be awake once you wake up again, much to your confusion, but still deliberately refuse to help. Not a word of what you said is spoken, but if you look closely enough you'll see the blush on his cheeks!

Azul

-You wanted to rest after a long day, maybe even after a long shift at the mostro lounge, and Azul was gracious enough to let you rest on one of the couches in the VIP room, while he worked. He actually wanted to appear like a gentleman in front of you and impress you.

-You can't convince me that those couches aren't comfortable. Which is why you almost immediately fall asleep the moment you lay down.

-But before you do, you make one last comment "I already want to marry you one day as is, but if it means I get to rest like this every night, I'll buy the ring tomorrow"

-If a student walked in right now, they might just confuse him with a crashed pc; or maybe with riddle, considering how red he is

-Just completely stops everything he's doing, he's in shock. he doesn't believe he can actually be loved

-It genuinely shocks him so much that you actually like him back, let alone want to marry him, but he can't say he isn't happy! So him being even more of a gentleman to you and giving you countless discounts worked! (You actually already liked him before that! but he was to busy being insecure to notice)

-Immediately starts working on a relationship contract for you two, hell, you said you want to marry him, right?? might as well start working on the marriage certificate!

-He continues to be absolutely flustered as he writes the two contracts, if either of the twins saw him right now, he'd never hear the end of it!

-Prepare to be asked to dinner at the most romantic table in the mostro lounge with Azul, where he will then ask you out and discusses your relationship as if it was a business meeting :)

Ahhhh my first request, thank you so much again for your kind words and the adorable request, I truly hope i lived up to it's greatness <3

I'm still in book 4, so i tried to write Lilia as in-character as possible based on what i saw of him during events and from other writers :)

feedback is welcomed, just be Kind! Hope you all have a lovely day/night!

[alwaysanundertone]

hiw Abt a marauderers x FEM reader, like where it's after a double moon or smth and Remus is EXTREMELY clingy to the reader, snuggled in her, doesnt let her move, literally anything...and sirius on the other hand is in an awful mood cuz he had some family problem or some thing...he needs support and the reader or Remus aren't there to help him out..and jamesie? Well he had a quidditch match and lost that and is in an equally depressive mood...they all need the reade..but she isn't able to comfort them all...

Sirius becomes and and shouts at the reader...rmeua shouts at sirius for shouting at the reader and James (he can't shout, he's too sweet lol) argues with Remus for being to clingy to the reader...

And so they all get mad and stuff and go to other rooms of the house (lol)

This keeps on continuing until the reader lashes out on all three of them!!!

(p.s: u can totally not do it, if u don't like it lol)

my first request! I'm kind of nervous. My requests are open, and while writing this I realized how much I love them! So feel free to send them <3

Love can be overwhelming | poly! marauders x reader

slight angst / a bit of fluff

word count: 1.8k

CW: mention of abusive household

part 1, part 2 , part 3

When you started dating the Marauders, the first thing that your friend Dorcas said was to beware, polyamorous relationship could be tough. At first, you brushed her off: you knew that, but your love for the boys would have overcome everything.

Or at least you thought so.

You have been experiencing the worst week of your whole life, you were stressed over your head with schoolwork, wanting to stay on top of your class but, also, struggling too, and this time, your boyfriends weren’t helping at all.

It all started with the fact that, obviously, it was the week before the full moon, meaning that Remus was extremely on edge, but also clingy. Having an afternoon for yourself was a luxury: the werewolf had to stay by your side all of the time. You didn’t quite get this clinginess, because he behaved this way only with you; he wanted to have the other two marauders near, of course, but he was fine as long as you didn’t wonder off, and sometimes he seemed to be a bit possessive over you. So, let’s say that if you felt the need to have some practice lessons for potions, he had to be there, and it didn’t matter if the professor didn’t want anyone else in the room with you: you had to choose between having him near you, or skipping the extra lessons you so desperately needed.

“Remus, I know it’s stressful for you, but you must understand I have to take this class. It’s not like I’m going to be gone all afternoon, I’m asking you for two hours maximum. You know that Slughorn doesn’t like having other people during these lessons, and he’s doing me a favour here” He looked like you just might have kicked him.

“I don’t understand why my partner suddenly doesn’t want me around.” You took a deep breath: truth was, you knew that he wasn’t being unreasonable because he wanted to. If his werewolf instincts weren’t acting up, he would have probably pushed you to take even more lessons, but now he wasn’t in his right mind. You had to chance tactic.

“Baby, you know that I love you, right? I love you so, so much” You took his face into your hands, you saw his expression visibly shift. “And I know it isn’t easy for you, I know that. I swear, if you go napping now, you won’t even notice I’m gone”

“But napping is way more fun with you” His voice turned sultry, his hands now groping your ass lightly. You couldn’t help but feel a pang of need, but now was not the time.

“Tell you what, I’m going to lay down with you until you’re asleep. I’ll give you some head scratches, then, when I’ll be back, you’ll have me all to yourself. Does this sound good?” His pupils were now a little bit wider; he nodded and hauled you on his shoulder, making you yelp when he made you fall on the bed. He positioned his head on your chest, a hand crawling underneath your shirt to grip one of your tits possessively, while the other one stayed underneath your ass, the tips of his fingertips hovering dangerously close to your core.

You knew that his hold wasn’t casual: he was trying to make you stay, knowing the effect that he had on you, but you couldn’t give in: you had to stay strong,  because deep down you knew that, if you failed this exam, you wouldn’t be in the right mind to help Remus during the full moon.

You just had to get through this week, it was only 7 days, right? And most of today was gone, if the other boys would be helpful, as they always did, everything was going to be just fine.

You wandered off to the Great Hall for breakfast, exhausted. After the lesson with Slughorn, you came back to a very needy Remus, who took all of his clinginess out of you, leaving you sore and tired; while he slept soundly, though, you had to study and make up for the hours lost being supportive for your boyfriend, leaving you with about two hours of sleep in the last forty-eight hours.

“Hey girl, didn’t see you in our dorm room yesterday, oh what the fuck-“ Dorcas looked at you like you might have grown another head during the nighttime. “Babes, have you slept? Like, at all?”

“No, I haven’t. Remus is being extremely clingy, and you know that I’m not the best when it comes to Potions. Given the fact that the test is going to be next week, I barely have time to rest” She scoffed, but you interrupted her before she could start. “I know that James and Sirius should help, but he’s being this clingy only with me, and they can’t do much about that; plus, the upcoming game is stressing them out so much, yesterday they came to bed after practice, they didn’t even eat anything. I just want to support them”

She sighed. “I know baby, but try to not burn out, okay? If you need any help, I’m here, you know? Now, let’s go eat something”

You were happy to share some time with her and your boyfriends, but when you sat next to Sirius, one look at him told you anything that there was to know.

He didn’t greet you, didn’t sport his usual smirk: he was looking down at his plate like it might have held the answer to all his problems, while James looked at you preoccupied. Remus just held you close to himself. You tried to peel yourself away from his embrace, to not avail.

“Sirius, baby, do you want to talk? We can skip the first few hours and go on a walk to the Black Lake?” Now he was looking at you, his eyes were red and puffy, you tried to not cringe at his expression.

“It’s okay, Y/N, just the usual” You hated how he always seemed to shut down, not wanting to share his problems with you. As you tried to reach for his hand, Remus snatched you back, holding you close to him: you could see the moment in which Sirius shut you out for good, and you wanted to kick Remus for it.

“I’m going to handle this, you’re going to think about Remus, okay darling? Then I will report back to you, I swear” James whispered in your ear, You took a deep breath, nodding: you were thankful for him, but you still didn’t want to make Sirius feel like he couldn’t count on you.

You had the time to eat a biscuit before you had to head to class, Remus trailing behind you. You just had to wait for a few days, a few days and all of this would be over, and you had James to help you get through this week. You would be fine, you told yourself.

On Wednesday, you were thankful that Remus had an important herbology test, which gave you enough time to check in with Sirius. You entered their dorm room, spotting his curled frame under piles of blankets: you felt a pang of guilt, you swore your heart broke just a little.

Without making any sounds, you peeled the blankets off and wrapped your body around his, he startled in his sleep.

“Shh, baby, I’m right here. You’re safe, you know that? And I’ll always be here for you, no matter what” It was like you opened a faucet: his body started trembling, and then came the sobbing, he turned around and hugged you back, you caressed his head and back softly. After he quieted down a bit, you took his face into your hands, forcing him to look into your eyes. “Would you like for me to sing for you?” He nodded eagerly, burying his face in your chest, while you sang him a lullaby.

After a bit, you heard his breath even out. Your heart ached for your lover, you didn’t know what living in an abusive household felt like, and you sometimes even felt guilty over the fact that you had the most loving parents someone could ever asked for. You knew it was silly, but if you could, you’d swap family in a blink of an eye, everything to take this burden off of Sirius’s shoulders.

“Is he okay?” James whispered, startling you. He bent down, placing a soft kiss on your head. “I don’t know, Jamie. He had a breakdown, now he is asleep. I don’t know how to help him, I don’t want him to suffer like this every month.”

“I know, love, I know. You’re doing your best, and he appreciates it. But” He looked at you embarrassed, and you already knew what was going on, you sighed. “Remus just finished his test, and he’s going kind of nuts, he wants you by his side. You should go”

“Can’t he just come here, so we could cuddle?”

“I don’t know, love. This moon seems different, he got a lot more possessive over you. He just wants you for himself, I think we’re going to fix this before the next month, but for now, I think you should go”

You nodded, looking down art Sirius for the last time, before looking for Remus.

You prayed Sirius didn’t feel abandoned by you,  but you still had James to count on.

On Thursday, you stayed in bed all day with Remus. You studied, of course, and he seemed happy to have you around. You didn’t see Sirius at all, given the fact that you stayed at your dorm, but you thought that James was handling him well.

Exactly, you thought, because, as you and Remus took your seats for the Friday’s night Quidditch game, after having studied all day in the library, you felt a bit anxious. You told yourself you were being paranoid, but deep down, you knew something was off, and when Sirius entered the Quidditch pitch, you knew he wasn’t okay. He didn’t come to greet you, didn’t even look at you, and when you shoot a glance at James, he just averted his gaze: you were fucked.

You took a deep breath and snuggled closer to Remus, his clinginess now comforting, as the game begun. From the first actions, you knew that they were going to lose: Sirius looked like he wasn’t even trying, while James was too preoccupied to check on him to score a single goal.

And as the game ended, you knew your night was going to be an awful one: Gryffindor just lost the game.

[daisymbin]

too handsome! - kim mingyu

warnings: alcohol & a bantering boogyu

pairings: kim mingyu x reader

genre: silly drunk confessions? friends to lovers!

wc: 1.1k

a/n: i can't believe this is the end of the drunken confessions series. I hope you had as much fun reading the series as I did writing them!! 🤍

drunken confessions series

check out my masterlist!

you didn’t know what was more of a surprise: the sight of kim mingyu sprawled out on the living room floor, head resting against a pillow that had somehow found its way under him, or the fact that he was currently singing—if you could even call it that—an off-key rendition of a song you were pretty sure didn’t exist.

“mingyu?” you called out, stepping inside and carefully setting down the takeout bags you’d brought. “what... what happened here?”

seungkwan, who was sitting cross-legged on the couch with a resigned expression, gave you a look that screamed exasperation. “oh, thank god. finally. please come take care of your pouty big baby.”

you let out a laugh, glancing between him and mingyu. “what’s wrong with him?”

“what’s wrong with me?” mingyu repeated, his voice slurred but full of mock offense. he pushed himself up onto his elbows, glaring at you through half-lidded eyes. “you’re what’s wrong with me! you took forever! i almost died waiting.”

seungkwan let out an exaggerated groan. “he’s been whining for the past hour,” he said, waving a hand at mingyu. “going on and on about how you abandoned him and how the world is unfair and how he’s too handsome to suffer like this.”

“i am too handsome to suffer like this,” mingyu insisted, turning his pout on seungkwan. “look at me! i should be cherished, not left here to rot.”

joshua, who had been watching the whole scene unfold from the armchair, chuckled. “well, you know what a good bottle of whiskey does to him,” he said. “he doesn’t know how much he’s drinking until it’s too late.”

mingyu dramatically clutched his chest, letting out a loud, theatrical sigh. “betrayed by whiskey, yet again. the tragedy of my life.”

you couldn’t help but laugh, stepping closer to your overly dramatic best friend. “mingyu,” you said gently, kneeling beside him. “you’re not dying, okay? i’m here now.”

he looked up at you with wide, glassy eyes and a pout that would have melted even the coldest heart. “you’re finally here,” he whined, folding his arms. “but you were late! so late. and i was lonely.”

“i was gone for, like, an hour,” you pointed out, trying to keep your voice steady despite the giggles threatening to burst out.

“an hour is basically a lifetime,” mingyu shot back, flopping onto his back with another dramatic sigh. “you’re lucky i’m forgiving. but just so you know, i expect you to grovel.”

“grovel?” you repeated, an incredulous laugh escaping your lips. “for what?”

“for breaking my heart,” he declared, pointing a shaky finger at you. “and leaving me here with seungkwan and his terrible attitude.”

seungkwan gasped, placing a hand over his chest as if he’d been mortally wounded. “my terrible attitude? excuse me, i’m the only one keeping you from full-on sobbing and ruining the carpet. show some respect, kim mingyu!”

mingyu stuck out his tongue, earning a scandalized gasp from seungkwan. “you see this?” seungkwan turned to you, his expression as dramatic as ever. “this is what i have to deal with. he’s insufferable.”

“you’re insufferable,” mingyu shot back, though his words came out slightly slurred. “and mean. so mean. you should be nicer to me, seungkwan. i’m fragile.”

“fragile?” seungkwan repeated, looking like he might burst out laughing. “you’re built like a damn tank. the only thing fragile here is your ego.”

mingyu groaned, pressing his hands over his face, leaning closer to you. “ugh! see? he’s so mean. you should comfort me.”

“okay, okay,” you said, fighting back a smile as you knelt down beside mingyu. “i’m here to comfort you. no more bullying.”

mingyu peeked at you through his fingers, his lips forming a pout. “you always know how to make me feel better,” he mumbled, his voice soft. “even when i don’t deserve it.”

“what do you mean?” you asked, your smile fading slightly at the seriousness in his tone.

mingyu sighed, lowering his hands from his face. “you’re always there for me,” he said, his eyes growing glassy. “even when i’m annoying and whiny and... and so obviously in love with you.”

your breath caught in your throat. “what?”

his eyes widened in horror, and he immediately clamped a hand over his mouth. “what,” he mumbled through his fingers, panic flashing across his face. “uh-”

“mingyu,” you said, your heart pounding. “what did you just say?”

seungkwan’s jaw dropped, an "oh my god, he's stupid." slips out before he clapped a hand over his own mouth to keep from screaming. joshua leaned forward, eyes wide with disbelief.

mingyu, looking utterly betrayed by his own mouth, let out a strangled laugh. “um... surprise?”

you stared at him, trying to process the whirlwind of emotions flooding through you. “you... you’re in love with me?”

he groaned, dropping his head back onto the pillow. “i didn’t mean to say that,” he muttered, his voice muffled. “this is the worst. the absolute worst.”

“mingyu,” you said softly, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from his forehead. “do you really mean it?”

he lifted his head just enough to look at you, his eyes filled with a mix of vulnerability and hope. “yeah,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “i really mean it. but if you don’t feel the same, please just pretend i never said anything. i can’t lose you.”

your heart swelled, and a smile slowly spread across your face. “you big, dramatic idiot,” you whispered. “how can i not?”

mingyu’s eyes lit up, and a slow, disbelieving grin spread across his face. “wait... really?”

“really,” you said, laughing as you cupped his face in your hands. “i like you, too.”

he let out a joyous, relieved laugh, grabbing your hands and pulling you into a tight hug. “this is the best day of my life,” he declared, his voice muffled against your shoulder.

“even though you embarrassed yourself in front of seungkwan and joshua?” you teased, pulling back to look at him.

he shrugged, a sassy grin spreading across his lips. “worth it,” he said, winking at you. “besides, i’m too handsome to be embarrassed for long.”

“oh my god, yeah and you're too handsome to be this oblivious yet here we are.” seungkwan groaned, throwing a pillow at mingyu. “get a room, you two! or better yet, get him to stop being so annoying & shut his mouth.”

mingyu caught the pillow and smirked, hugging it to his chest. “never,” he shot back, winking at you again. “being annoying is part of my charm, right?”

you laughed, feeling your heart swell with affection. “right,” you said softly, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his cheek.

and as mingyu beamed at you, looking happier than you’d ever seen him. he's too handsome not to be loved, right?