#I had this idea for a while but had no idea what i wanted him doing

[greengoblinswifey]

The Offer—Salesman x Fem!Reader

summary�� After an encounter with the mysterious and dangerously charming salesman, you find yourself drawn to him and what begins as a simple game quickly escalates when he offers you a deal outside the Squid Game. based on this request.

warnings— sugar baby undertones, praise kink, fingering, oral(f!receiving), body worship, ass slapping, choking, unprotected sex, creampie.

The subway station felt like a dull hum in the background as you sat on a hard bench, looking at your phone. The notification from your bank app stared back at you, a harsh reminder of your poor spending choices. Shopping sprees, credit card bills, and an insurmountable amount of student loan debt weighed on you. You sighed, barely noticing the man who had taken a seat next to you until he cleared his throat.

“Rough day?” a deep, smooth voice said.

You glanced up, and your breath caught in your throat. The man was striking, his tailored suit fit perfectly, his features sharp and symmetrical, with a mischievous glint in his eyes that sent a spark of unease and intrigue down your spine.

“Uh, yeah, you could say that,” you muttered, looking away as you grew flustered.

He chuckled softly. “Well, I can help,” he said, pulling out a neat red envelope from his briefcase. “How about a game?”

“A game?” You frowned, wary but unable to deny the curiosity bubbling inside you.

He opened the envelope, revealing a stack of blue and red tiles. “Ddakji,” he explained, holding up one of the tiles. “We take turns throwing the tile to flip the other. You win, you get 100,000 won each time. You lose,” his smile widened. “I get to slap you.”

Your stomach churned at the proposal, but the thought of cash was too enticing to ignore. “Whatever,” you said, your voice shaky but firm.

The first few rounds were a blur. He was calm, composed, and terrifyingly skilled. You, on the other hand, had no idea what you were doing, your tile landing uselessly each time.

“Not your game, is it?” he teased after you failed again.

“Nah,” you replied.

He leaned closer, and you smelled his cologne, subtle but intoxicating. Instead of raising his hand to deliver the promised slap, he surprised you by tucking the envelope into your hands.

“Here,” he said, his voice low and warm. “Take my card instead.”

You blinked, staring at the card he offered. It was embossed with a phone number and a strange symbol. “What’s this?”

“For something bigger than a subway game,” he replied. His hand lingered for a moment on yours as he added, “How about I come over, and we talk a bit more? About the game, the prize, and— possibilities.”

Your heart raced as you nodded.

You led him to your apartment, your nerves heightened by his presence. He seemed so calm and confident, while you felt like a mess. Inside, he leaned against your kitchen counter, his jacket now draped over the back of a chair.

“You’re nervous,” he said, his lips curving into a small smile.

“Not nervous,” you lied, but your trembling hands gave you away.

He chuckled, taking a step closer. “You’re interesting. Most people I approach don’t look at me the way you do.”

“And how’s that?” you asked, swallowing hard.

“Like you’re trying to figure me out,” he said, his voice sending a shiver through you.

“Maybe I am,” you admitted, clutching the card tightly.

“Good,” he murmured. “Keep that curiosity. It might take you further than you think.”

You weren’t sure if it was a warning or what, but you couldn’t deny the way his presence filled the room, leaving you breathless and wanting to know more.

“You’ve got a fire in you. I like that.” His voice softened as he added, “But you don’t need to play any games to fix your problems.”

Your brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I could take care of you,” he said simply. He stepped even closer, the space between you closing to almost nothing. “You wouldn’t have to worry about loans, bills—anything. We could come to an arrangement.”

You blinked up at him, your heart racing. “An arrangement?”

“You’d be surprised what I’m capable of.” He reached out, brushing a stray hair from your face, his fingers lingering near your jaw. “I can take care of you in more ways than one.”

The way he said it sent heat through you. His gaze dipped to your lips again, and you found yourself leaning into his presence without even realizing it. “I’m down for that,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his voice dropping lower. He tilted his head, his face now inches from yours. “Because I think you’ve needed someone to take care of you for a long time.”

Before you could respond, his lips captured yours, unhurried, testing the waters. The kiss deepened quickly, fueled by what had been building between you since he first approached you.

His hands found your waist, pulling you closer as his tongue teased yours, earning a soft gasp. He took the opportunity to lift you effortlessly onto the kitchen counter, his hands warm and steady against your ass.

“You’re something else,” he said against your lips, his breath hot as he pulled back just enough to look into your eyes. His thumb brushed over your cheek, and for a moment, the intensity softened into something almost tender.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” you replied, a small smile tugging at your lips.

He chuckled, his forehead resting against yours. “This could be the start of something very interesting.”

And boy, you couldn’t help but agree. The kiss reignited, deeper and hotter than before. His hands gripped your waist, pulling you flush against him on the counter. The faint scent of his cologne mixed with the faint aroma of something warm and spicy made your head swim.

“You smell incredible,” he murmured against your lips, his voice low and rough. He pressed his nose to the curve of your neck, inhaling deeply as his lips ghosted over your skin. “Too good, really. Makes me wonder if you’re even real.”

Heat spread through your cheeks, but his words lit something inside you. “I think you’re the one who’s too good to be real,” you teased back.

“Flattery, huh? I like that. But don’t think for a second I don’t see through you.” His hand slid up your thigh, his touch warm. “You’ve been wanting this, haven’t you?”

You opened your mouth to protest, but he silenced you with another kiss, his teeth gently tugging at your bottom lip before pulling back to study your reaction. “No need to lie, sweetheart. I know.”

His hand ventured lower, fingers brushing over the fabric of your skirt, and he hesitated, his eyes meeting yours. “Is this okay?” he asked softly, his tone serious, despite the fire burning in his gaze.

Instead of answering, you bucked your hips into his touch instinctively, a soft gasp escaping your lips. The corner of his mouth lifted in approval. “That’s what I thought,” he muttered.

His fingers worked, finding your dripping pussy and working their magic, skilled and precise. You couldn’t help but arch into him, your head falling back against the cabinet. “Look at me,” he commanded gently, one hand cupping your jaw to bring your gaze back to his. “I want to see those pretty eyes.”

You obeyed, locking eyes with him as his fingers thrusting inside you intensified, his thumb brushing over your cheek when you whimpered softly. “That’s it,” he said, “You’re such a good girl for me, aren’t you?”

You couldn’t form words, only nodding as waves of pleasure rolled through you. His digits curled expertly inside you, thrusting against that spongy spot that made your breath catch and your pussy throb. You thrashed and moaned, feeling practically possessed by pleasure. God, you really did need this. He probably thought you were a desperate slut. His thumb tilted your chin up slightly. “Say it,” he murmured, his tone coaxing. “Tell me.”

“Yes,” you managed, your voice shaky. “Yes, I’m—I’m your good girl.”

His grin widened. “That’s my girl.”

Your hand gripped his muscular bicep as he stared down at you, the moment so intimate. Eyes locked on yours, two finger buried inside your pussy and a thumb rubbing your clit, giving you more pleasure your little fingers could ever manage to. Saving money had prevented you from even thinking of buying a vibrator. Soft moans left your lips as he rubbed rough circles on your bundle of nerves, your pussy clenching around nothing before he plunged his fingers back inside you. He thrusted roughly and you couldn’t help but clamp around him.

When the tension inside you reached its peak, he leaned closer, his lips grazing your ear. “Cum for me. Right here, right now. I want to see you fucking cum.”

And you did, trembling against him as his fingers pushed you over the edge, your breaths coming out in stuttering gasps. His praises washed over you as he held you steady, his grip comforting.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. “Absolutely beautiful.”

You stayed like that for a moment, letting the quiet hum of the room wrap around you as you caught your breath.

The heat between you both heightened as his lips trailed down your neck softly. His hands gripped your waist firmly, pulling you closer on the counter. He paused, meeting your gaze with a smirk that sent a shiver down your spine.

“You’re addictive,” he murmured, voice rich and low. “I want to taste every part of you.”

Your breath hitched as he dropped to his knees, his hands steady on your thighs. “Can I taste you?” he asked, his tone sincere despite the hunger in his eyes.

You nodded, words escaping you entirely. His smirk deepened as he guided your legs apart, his lips brushing your inner thigh. “You’re so perfect,” he whispered, his voice soft. “And all mine.”

His tongue explored every inch of you, licking from your pelvis, then down to your clit. His focus on your clit, slurping and flicking it made your toes curl and your legs clamp around his head. He chuckled deeply, the sound sending vibrations through your body and he pried your legs open, continuing his feast.

“I’ve never seen anyone as stunning as you,” he said. “Let me take care of you.”

Each kiss on your clit and touch over your thighs sent sparks through you, and you couldn’t help the soft moans escaping your lips. He looked up, his eyes dark. “I want to hear you,” he murmured, his voice almost a growl. “Don’t hold back. Let me hear how good it feels.”

You moaned loudly, your voice trembling with emotion. “That’s my good girl,” he said. “So beautiful, my perfect girl.”

As he continued to worship you, every lick and word worked together, unraveling you completely. When you finally came, trembling with his mouth on your pussy, he held your gaze, his expression softening as he spoke.

“You’re incredible,” he murmured, pressing a lingering kiss to your clit. “Don’t forget that.”

When you came down from your high, he stood, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “You’re everything I need,” he said softly, his forehead resting against yours.

His hands gripped your hips as he lifted you slightly, settling you more securely on the counter. The warmth of his hard cock pressed against your pussy sent shivers down your spine, but his lips found yours again, slow and tender.

“Relax,” he murmured, “I’ve got you, baby.”

You exhaled shakily as he freed his hard cock moving closer. He dragged the thick, leaking tip along your folds before slowly inching inside your tight pussy. His forehead rested against yours for a brief moment, giving you time to adjust to his size. His hands were steady on your waist, his thrusts careful and slow. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice soft, his eyes searching yours.

“Yes,” you whispered, and he smiled.

“Good,” he said, his lips capturing yours again, deeper this time. “I’ll take care of you, always.”

The praise flowed from him effortlessly as he began pounding into you. “You’re so perfect,” he murmured against your neck, his lips trailing kisses along your skin. “So good for me. Taking my cock so well.”

Your hands tangled in his dark hair as you tilted your head back. His pace shifted, repeatedly slamming against the sweet spot inside you and his lips found yours once more. “Cum on my cock,” he said, his forehead pressed to yours. “I’ve got you. Just cum for me.”

You gripped his bicep, your pussy responding to his words as your juices soaked his cock inside you. He held you steady, his praises unrelenting. “That’s it,” he whispered, brushing a kiss to your temple. “You’re incredible, such a good girl for me.”

The moment lingered, but you didn’t let it fade completely. Instead, your shaky hands found his, as he helped you off the counter and his lips captured yours again. You guided him toward your bedroom, the two of you stumbling slightly as you moved.

“You’re mine,” he murmured between kisses, his words muffled but filled with conviction. “No one else gets you like this.”

The bedroom door swung open, and he didn’t hesitate, his hands finding your waist again as he backed you toward the bed. “You’re so fucking sexy,” he muttered in awe.

You moved onto your hands and knees, adjusting until your back arched perfectly, drawing a low hum of approval from him.

“There we go,” he said, his hand smoothing over the curve of your spine before resting on your hip. “Just like that, absolutely perfect.”

A sharp, playful slap landed on your ass, making you jolt slightly, and he chuckled. “Couldn’t resist,” he teased, his hand soothing over the spot. “You look too good like this.”

He held onto your waist as his cock rested against your pussy. “You’ve got such a gorgeous body,” he murmured, his voice dropping as his hands roamed gently over your ass. “You don’t even realize how stunning you are, do you?”

You felt his gaze on you lingering, as you wiggled onto his cock, “That’s it, bring that ass back just like that for me. You’re so perfect.”

You met his thrusts as he rolled his hips, his cock disappearing inside your pussy. Each time he bottomed out, his cock was covered in your cream.

“Fuck, you’re really enjoying this baby,” he hummed, staring at how wet you got his shaft.

He held you steady, his hands molding to your curves, his cock brushing against your cervix with each thrust, his voice warm as he leaned closer. “You’re incredible,” he said, his breath brushing against your ear. “Every single part of you fucking especially this.” He squeezed your ass gently, his admiration clear.

He placed a soft kiss on the back of your shoulder before wrapping his hand around your neck to bring you closer so you were arching off him. His pace quickened, each thrust deep, as he held you by your neck securely in place. You arched deeper instinctively, your back pressing against his chest, and his breath warmed your ear.

“Let me hear you,” he murmured, his voice low and commanding. “Cum for me.”

Your breaths quickened, and you couldn't help the loud moan that escaped you just as he requested. His grip was firm and his words spilled effortlessly, “That’s my good girl. You’re incredible.”

As everything built to a crescendo, you felt yourself shudder. His hand on your throat tightened slightly, steadying you through the moment. The world around you faded, leaving only his cock moving inside you, anchoring you. You were still squirting as he pounded into you and soon, you felt his sticky cum coat your walls.

When it was over, he pulled you close, his lips brushing against your temple. “You’re breathtaking,” he said softly before retreating, leaving you to catch your breath.

Moments later, he appeared with a damp cloth, cleaning you up with a care that seemed to contradict his character. He set it aside, leaning against the doorframe with a smirk that was entirely too charming.

“So,” he said casually, folding his arms, “about those bank account details.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his sudden shift in tone. He grinned, the shine in his eyes unmistakable.

“Relax,” he added with a soft chuckle, leaning down to brush a lock of hair from your face. “I said I’d take care of you, didn’t I?”

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Far Cry Cradle.

Pairing: Yandere!Lilia x Reader (TWST).

Word Count: 4.1k.

TW: Fem!Reader, Non/Con, Somnophilia, Kidnapping, Slight Breeding Kink, Infantilization/Dehumanization, and Implied Pregnancy. Slight Spoilers for Book Seven.

Humans were skittish creatures.

Lilia knew that better than most, but even if he hadn’t, it would’ve been plain to see. Their soldiers required battle cries and marching songs to keep their nerve on the field, their royalty barricaded themselves behind gates of iron and castles of brick, and even the lowliest among them fell back on rumor and superstition to vent their anxiety, telling each other tales of heroes and villains and treachery and valiance as to best root a bit of bravery in one another where they’d failed to plant it in themselves. It was an admirable effort – albeit, a misplaced one. There were things in the world worth being afraid of. Trying to forget that was as foolish as succumbing to it.

You were a skittish creature, certainly. Your condition was no worse than that of the state he found you in, and yet, your trembling had only grown more violent, your muffled noises quickly becoming too pitiful to ignore. It’d been a struggle just to get you back to his cottage, and you’d scrambled into the smallest, darkest possible corner as soon as he’d let you go. It was a miracle you didn’t make a break for the door. At least he knew that, whatever you thought he was going to do to you, it couldn’t have been worse than whatever you’d encountered in the for—

“Please don’t eat me.”

Your voice, cracked and hoarse, brought his attention back to you. He sighed, pushing himself away from the wall and ebbing closer until he stood in front of you. Despite your brazenness, you shied away, sinking that much deeper into your corner. He wondered how long you’d stay there. Any more than a few hours, and he might start to worry.

“I’m going to… eat you?”

A sharp inhale, followed quickly by a shaky nod. “I—In my village, they used to say nocturnal fae considered human flesh to be a delicacy,” you managed, in time. Lilia had to bite back a laugh. “I don’t want to be eaten. If you have to kill me, I’d understand, but I don’t want to be—”

“Relax.” It was more of an order than he meant it to be. Instantly, you went rigid, pulling your knees into your chest and staring at him, doe eyed.

With your panic momentarily thrown into paralysis, he took a moment to evaluate you. You really were in bad shape. Fresh bruises and cuts lined your bare arms and legs, and your clothing had been torn, mended, then torn again. You carried no supplies, but judging from the defensive edge to your posture, the extent of your distress, you’d been fending for yourself for quite a while. Most worryingly, you were barefoot. Wandering through unfamiliar terrain, hungry and cold, was unpleasant. Wandering through unfamiliar terrain, hungry and cold and forced out of comfort so suddenly, you didn’t have time to grab even the most obvious of essentials, was significantly more unpleasant.

He cleared his throat, then fell into a crouch, lowering himself to your height. “Why are you in Briar Valley?”

Your answer came quickly, reflexively. “I was lost.”

“Alright, what were you doing when you got lost?”

This time, your response was less easily provided. “I was… getting lost?”

Perfect. You didn’t have nerve to meet his eyes, but lying to his face didn’t seem to cause you so much strife.

Surprisingly, you spoke up without prompting, uncurling slightly. “Are you going to let me go?”

Lilia grit his teeth. Letting you go would be a bad idea, not only because it was the dead of winter and travelling just about anywhere in your state was a death sentence. You were fickle, and nervous, and more than a little disoriented, but you were human, too, and he was in sore need of one of those.

“No,” and then, rolling his eyes as you let out another keening whimper, “For two reasons. Firstly, it’s winter, you’re injured, and if I let you go back out there, you’d only get yourself killed. Secondly, I need—”

As if rehearsed, an ear-piercing cry broke through the cottage’s quiet, immediately replacing any semblance of peace with a misery that outmatched yours ten-fold. Lilia, as exhausted as he’d ever been on the battlefield, let his head fall, forcing himself to take a deep breath before soldiering on. “I have a son,” he said, only just managing to speak over the child’s wailing. “You’ll be taking care of him, during your time here.”

In retrospect, he could’ve been nicer about it – less brisk, more accommodating, leaning more towards a suggestion than a command. But, it wasn’t in his nature to ask questions where he could dull out orders, and if the idea of childrearing was as aversive to you as that of admitting where you hailed from, you did a decent job of masking it. If anything, your expression seemed to soften, your eyes darting in the direction of Silver’s nursery. For the first time since he’d found you, you managed to say something half-way rational.

“…can I meet him?”

Lilia considered it. Waiting until tomorrow morning may have been wiser. You’d have a chance to gather yourself, and he could tend to Silver on his own in the meantime, ready the child to meet someone other than Malleus and himself. It was probably the more considerate thing to do, the smarter thing to do, but the wailing grew louder, and your eyes caught the dim moonlight in a way that almost made you seem eager, and with a rasped sigh, he stood to his full height, signaling for you to do the same. “For a minute or so. He ought to be asleep, by now.”

He turned away from you, and without a word, you scrambled to your feet, tripping over yourself to follow after him.

~

Humans were sentimental things.

Strangely so. Inexplicably so. Silver had warmed to him immediately, sure, but he’d been a newborn at the time, willing to love anyone who could coo his name and make lights in pretty colors dance on their fingertips. Adults had fewer excuses. Baur’s new son-in-law was rumored to have fallen in love with his now-wife the first time he laid eyes on her, and you…

You could’ve loved a dried patch of thistle, so long as it needed your help.

Lilia made a habit of watching you, generally speaking, but he made sure to hover a little closer whenever you had Silver in your arms – which you almost always did, these days. It was clear that your experience was limited, but you took to childrearing like a fish took to water; dedicating yourself to tending to Silver’s needs as you would’ve your own flesh and blood. Currently, you were sitting by the fire in an age-old rocking chair, bouncing him on one knee and balancing an open book on the other, doing your best to read out some nonsensical fairytale to an unruly audience of one. Or, two, he supposed. He was catching more of it than he’d like to.

When you got to the part about the princess being woken up from an eternal sleep by true love’s kiss, he cut in. “If those are the kind of stories you’ll be telling the boy, it might be better not to speak to him at all.”

Your fear of him seemed to fade more and more with every passing sunrise. Now, you only responded to his chiding with a chime of a laugh, a quick shake of your head. “Talking to children is important. It doesn’t matter what you say, so long as they hear your voice.” You paused, leaning just a little closer to Silver. “Plus, it means you’re going to love me way more than your dad when you’re older. By then, you’ll already know he’s no fun.”

By way of reply, Silver clapped merrily and curled a tiny first around your sleeve. You shot Lilia a triumphant smirk. “See? He’s already playing favorites.”

Lilia pursed his lips. “He never seemed to mind being along with me.”

“Only because he didn’t know any better. You were trying to nurse him on wine, and—”

“Fruit juice,” he corrected.

“Fermented fruit juice. In other words, wine.” Almost protectively, you gathered Silver in your arms, propping him against your shoulder. “It wouldn’t hurt for you to say his name more, either. You should get into the habit while he’s still too young to remember being called ‘the boy’.”

At that, Lilia turned away entirely, huffing. He knew you were right. He’d known that when he named Silver, when he decided he was fit to raise a child with a face he still saw in his darkest dreams. Still, to love a child unconditionally and to be a father were two very different things. He was currently stumbling through the latter, but accomplishing the former was proving more difficult than he would ever care to admit aloud.

With a sigh, he edged closer to you, perching himself on the arm of your chair. “May I hold him?”

You feigned reluctance, but didn’t put up a fight. Silver was passed from one pair of hands to another, and Lilia held the child in his lap. “Silver,” he muttered, bringing up a hand to pinch his cheek gently. Good-tempered as always, Silver stared at him wide-eyed, as if in anticipation. “My first son was much more durable. Then again, he did have the decency to hatch from an egg.”

“That actually explains a lot about Malleus.” You straightened abruptly, clapping your hands together. “Oh, and we’re running low on powdered milk. You should ask him to pick some up, if he plans on visiting this week.”

 It was Lilia’s turn to laugh, now – not at anything you’d said, but at his own early misconception. He’d been too embarrassed to say anything after your hasty correction, but now, the confession came more easily, more naturally. “Honestly, I thought that’d be less of a problem with you here. I suppose I was under the impression that humans can make their own.”

A beat passed, then another. When he glanced toward you, he found your head bowed, a prominent flush spread over most of your face. It was cute, in a vulnerable sort of way. Lilia took longer than he should’ve to look away. “…some humans can. Only after they’ve had, uh, a child of their own first, though.” You shrugged. “There are a lot of conditions that have to be met before it’s something you really have to worry about, I guess.

“And you haven’t met those conditions, yet?”

Your blush darkened. “No, I haven’t.”

Ah.

On second thought, you weren’t very doe-like after all. Even a deer would’ve had more talent when it came to hiding its expression.

You were quick to divert your attention, pushing yourself to your feet and smoothing over your skirt. “The sun is setting and I’m getting hungry. Could you watch Silver while I start dinner?”

“I was actually thinking I could—”

“I’d rather starve.”

~

Humans were confounding things.

Emotional, irrational, ineffective. Pleasure and comfort were put above survival in almost every circumstance, hierarchy was treated as more of suggestion than a rule, and attachments could be formed to anything your unknowable minds deemed worth pitying. The weather grew warmer, the snowstorms fewer and further between, and yet, the idea of you leaving was never revisited. He wasn’t especially eager to broach the topic either, but Lilia had a good reason to want to keep you nearby, to make sure Silver had another set of eyes to watch over him. The same couldn’t be said for you.

“Mind if I join you?”

He glanced up and, of course, found the source of his misery. The picture was perfect; the set that of his cottage painted in the colors of dusk, the focus you dressed in the simple dress and apron gifted to you by Malleus. There was a low huff, a shallow nod, and you crossed the shallow stream, setting yourself next to him where he kneeled. “Silver just fell asleep,” you explained. “I’d give it a good hour or so before he so much as stirs. That kid could sleep through a war if he wanted to.”

“I think he might’ve,” Lilia muttered. You only laughed, leaning into his side.

“So,” you started, peering into the steam, empty save for the occasional chunk of ice drifting on the current. “What are we looking at?”  

“Lost in thought, that’s all. There won’t be anything worth looking at until Spring.” He sighed. “I suppose you’ll have returned to your proper home, by then.”

To your credit, you only faltered for a fraction of a moment – catching yourself before you let so much as your sweet, simpering smile fall away. A lesser man may not have noticed it, but Lilia was not a lesser man.

“Do you want me to leave?”

No. He’d give an arm and leg to keep you here. He’d let it snow through Spring, Summer and Fall. He’d teach Silver how to cry whenever you so much as thought about a home outside of his cottage. There were few things he wouldn’t do, if it meant you never left.

“I might be old, but I’m not delusional.” He forced himself to chuckle, the loud airy and only somewhat strained. “There’s some place you belong, some place you came from, and I don’t think it’s in this valley. It’d be selfish of me to keep you any longer than you ought to stay.”

He made a point of not looking at you, his gaze focused on the lining the streambed. There was a long exhale, then a hollow thud as you fell back – collapsing to the half-frozen ground. Just barely above a whisper, you admitted, “I like it here, Lilia.”

“Surely there are things from your own world that you miss.”

“Not as many as you’d think.”

“Comforts, then. I’ve heard wonderful things about electricity.”

“I’m plenty comfortable already. More than I ever was back home.”

“There has to be someone you miss, (Y/n).”

He heard the grass rustle as you rolled onto your side. When he stole a glance in your direction, he saw that you’d left your back to him. “Yeah.” And then, after a long moment, “I guess there should be.”

In an act of either sympathy or cowardice, he gave you time, allowed you space. Long seconds passed before you pulled yourself upright, letting your hands fall into your lap with a weary sigh. “I’ll leave on the first day of Spring,” you decided. “Before you forget how to take care of Silver on your own.”

“He’s still my son, you know.”

“Sure.” And just like that, you were back to beaming. This time, Lilia couldn’t stand to tear his eyes away from you.

“But I’m always going to behis favorite.”

~

Humans were softened things.

You, more so than most. Your skin felt like milkweed and velvet where his calloused fingers grazed over it, growing softer the farther up he travelled. There was still a winter chill in the air, but the weather was warming steadily, and at some point during the night, you’d kicked your quilts and blankets to the side, leaving you sheltered by only a cloth sleeping gown with sleeves prone to slipping down your shoulders and a skirt eager to pool around your waist. Any other night, Lilia might’ve rolled his eyes, lit the hearth in your bedroom, and left you to your own devices. Another other night, but not tonight.

It was strange, the way he loved you. He’d loved Maleanor, and a part of him always would, but that’d been different. To love Maleanor had been to love a force of nature; a storm as untouchable as it was destructive. He was never going to have her, and in a certain way, he’d always known that. You were different. You weren’t Maleanor. You weren’t distant, or untouchable, or destructive. He already had you.

All he had to do was make sure you couldn’t get away.

He’d expected there to be more guilt, more resignation. Instead, there was only relief as he propped a knee on the edge of your bed, rested a hand next to your sleeping face, allowed himself to ebb and sway closer to you until he was positioned in the space between your legs, his chest nearly pressing into yours. His gaze never left your expression; panicked and contorted, not completely unlike the face you’d worn when he first brought you home. Poor thing. You were having a nightmare.

Removing your dress came first. You were a fitful sleeper, prone to waking at the slightest disturbance, but he wasn’t green to delicate work. You whimpered as he dragged a pointed talon from your collar to your navel, but didn’t stir, didn’t shift, didn’t do anything that might’ve stopped him from bringing his mouth to your collarbone and pressing a feather-soft kiss into the base of your throat, the curve of your chest, the last blue-ringed bruise you carried from the night you met. A selfish, territorial part of him hoped it would never fade, that you’d always carry a mark connecting back to him. A more optimistic, more reasonable faction reminded him that he could simply make more.

His mouth wandered in time with his thoughts. He was careful, cautious as he curled his hands around your thighs, kneading with as much force as he could risk. You were beautiful in your obedience; spreading your legs reflexively, letting out a soft, breathy noise as Lilia settled into the now-open space. The thin fabric of your panties gave away as easily as your gown had, and Lilia’s patience reached its breaking point. Weary of his fangs, he bowed his head and—

Ah.

Humans were sweet, too.

And reactive. Even unconscious, you responded to each hasty swipe and drag of his tongue with a moan, a whine, a mewl so pitiful and so heartbreaking, the idea of ever letting you travel beyond his sight suddenly seemed irresponsible, cruel, unfair to a creature so delicate, it could hardly stand imagine itself to be unwanted. He sighed, letting his hands drift to your waist as he lapped over your clit, as eager to pleasure you as he was to drink in the fruits of his labor. It wasn’t long before your sleep turned restless, your body shifting underneath him in an attempt to escape unfamiliar stimulation. When he refused to let you go so easily, you reacted on instinct; snapping your thighs shut around his head and drawing out a low, reverberating grown from your willing victim.

More. That was what you must’ve wanted – more. He buried himself that much deeper in his task, nuzzling into the inside of your thigh as his tongue spread you open, curling against the walls of your cunt, seeking out anything sensitive, anything vulnerable, anything to make your hips buck into his mouth and your thighs shake where they were still trapped in his hands. He let his teeth scrape over the tender junctions between your thighs, and when that wasn’t enough, ground the bridge of his nose into your clit. Admittedly, it was messy effort; too hasty for your first time. He was tempted to chide himself for being so overly enthusiastic, but the awareness that this was only the first time of countless was enough of a comfort to spur him on.

It wasn’t long before he felt you tense underneath him, sucking in a harsh breath as your cunt clenched around his tongue. He nursed you through your climax (your first ever climax, he chose to believe) until your little whines had turned to near-pained whimpers, until he could no longer stand to limit himself to simply rutting against cold, lifeless bedding. With one more fleeting kiss to the apex of your hip, he pushed himself onto his knees and took to aligning the leaking head of his cock with your entrance, now dripping with arousal and spit. His gaze fixed on your peaceful expression, he thrust into you, no longer patient enough to be quite so gentle.

It was in a state of unparalleled bliss that the watched your eyes snap open, immediately finding him. Your lips parted, a scream already rising in your throat, but he forced his hand over your mouth before it could surface. It wouldn’t do to wake Silver, not at a time like this.

“Easy, love, easy,” he cooed. Your only response was a wince, a twist, a ragged sob reverberating against his palm. He might’ve been offended, had he not been able to feel you growing warmer, growing tighter around his length. “I apologize if there’s any pain. Can you try and relax for me?”

Apparently not. Your hands found their way to his chest, clawing frantically thought the thin material of his tunic. You tried to move his legs, too, but he was quick to put a stop to that, leaning his weight against you and pinning you to the bed. A bit selfishly, he took the opportunity to press his chest to yours, his hips to yours, to root himself that much deeper into you. It was paradise, the way you clung to him. He could only wonder why he didn’t realize how precious you were sooner.

“Easy,” he repeated, more breathlessly. “Would you rather I restrain you?”

The clawing stopped immediately. After a moment, he felt you shake your head.

“And you don’t want to end up hurting yourself, now, do you?”

Another shake, this one more trepid than the first.

“Then listen to me.” He rested his chin on your shoulder, careful not to raise his voice. “Make all the noise you want, but don’t scream. I’m not afraid of seeking out more permanent solutions.”

That was enough to get you to stop moving entirely. He held you close for a second, then another, before pulling away. True to your word (or lack thereof), you kept quiet, catching your bottom lip in your teeth and shutting your eyes so tightly, he could almost believe you no longer cared to look at him. With an airy laugh, he rested a hand next to your head and started to move.

It was your first time. It had to be. If you’d had any experience at all, you wouldn’t have responded to every slow, sentimental thrust with such adorable squeaking, wouldn’t have clung to the sheets with such a heartbreaking desperation. With your compliance ensured, he tried to be delicate, to give you time to adjust, but you made it difficult not to seek out the reactions you seemed so ready to provide. You made it hard not to use more force than he should’ve, not to root himself deeper than he should’ve, not to grind and rut and fuck like some drooling animal, caught up in its own heat. He could tell you were trying to ignore him, but even that had to break, eventually; your hands shooting to his shoulders as he lost his pace, your nails digging into his skin as he found something more substantial, something bordering on rabid. This time, he welcomed your violence. It was the least he could do, to help ground his distraught little love.

“You’re going to stay here.” He didn’t realize he’d meant to say anything aloud until he heard his own voice, low and drawn-out, playing just above your miserable whines and pleasured moans. “You’ll never have to leave. You’ll belong here. You already belong with me.”

“I don’t—”

“You won’t have a choice,” he assured, the comfort in his voice thick and prone to clotting. “Not after tonight.”

He watched horror flash across your expression, then something else, something he couldn’t quite name. It didn’t matter. His lips were already crashing into yours, dragging you into a kiss put off for far, far too long. Light flashed behind his eyes, and some unnamable tether drawn taut inside of him finally snapped. With his hips pressed flush to yours, he stilled and came undone. You followed a moment later, milking him for all he had.

For minutes, it was all he could do to stay trapped there; your warm body pressed into his, your stifled crying the only sound filling the empty space. When he did break from his trance, it was with an airy laugh, a brush of his cheek against yours before he dipped lower, taking shelter in the crook of your neck. Whether or not you could hear him was irrelevant. You’d have plenty of time to listen, from now on.

“You’re going to be a perfect mother.”

[ventismacchiato]

17 stuck with you — jealousy jealousy !

scaramouche x gender neutral reader

content warning: oblivious idiots

MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT: YOUR POINT OF VIEW

When you and the others returned from the island, you walked into the dorms to find everyone either drunk or in the process of getting there. When Yae asked what everyone wanted for catering, the unanimous answer was alcohol—until Jean reminded them they’d need food too.

You’d had a drink or two and were playing a halfhearted game of cards on the floor with Venti and Aether. Nobody seemed interested in going to bed. Getting drunk was the perfect way to forget the stress of the show.

Scara sat near the door, absentmindedly pulling out blocks in the game of Jenga Fischl had set up beside him. The atmosphere was surprisingly calm…for now.

Then Mona stood up from where she’d been teaching Yoimiya how to make a drink and plopped down next to Scara. He didn’t look too thrilled by the move.

“So, Kuni?” she slurred.

You froze at the name. Scara had made it clear that nobody but you called him that.

“Don’t call me that,” Scara muttered, his voice flat.

“Aww, why not? I thought I meant more than that,” Mona teased, clearly influenced by the alcohol.

“Can you go bother someone else?” Scara shot back.

“Don’t be like that!” Mona huffed, nudging him with her shoulder. “Want a massage? You used to love my massages.” She said the last part while looking directly at you, her hand casually caressing Scara’s shoulder. You quickly looked away, trying not to make it obvious that you were listening.

Scara removed her hand from his shoulder, pointedly avoiding eye contact. Mona didn’t let it go.

“Why won’t you just pay attention to me?” she whined, leaning closer.

“Can you not?” Scara finally turned to face her, his voice sharp. “What the hell are you even doing here?”

At this point, the whole room was trying to act like they weren’t paying attention, but it was clear they were all watching

“I just wanted to talk—” Mona began, but Scara interrupted her.

“I mean, what are you doing on this island?”

“I came to win you over,” Mona said, as though the answer was obvious.

“You’re the one who broke up with me,” Scara huffed, crossing his arms. “Don’t give me that bullshit.”

Mona took a long swig from her drink, unfazed.

“I didn’t want to,” she sighed, her voice thick with alcohol. “I would’ve stuck it out if your mom hadn’t… well…”

You felt a flush of heat spread across your face at the mention of Scara’s mother. You weren’t the only one who noticed; Childe, Aether, and Kazuha exchanged glances, each looking more uncomfortable by the second.

Scara grabbed Mona’s glass from her hand, his fingers tight around it. “You should shut up.”

Mona, however, was too far gone to be deterred.

“How could I not take the contract? You know how bad my old management was. I had no choice. It was either that or you. You know how it is.”

It was only when she noticed the entire room was staring at her that a little sobriety seemed to return. She clamped her palm over her mouth and stared at Scara, wide-eyed.

“Sorry… I didn’t mean to say that,” she mumbled, her voice the most sincere it had been all night.

Scara didn’t answer. He just stared at the ground, his face unreadable, while Mona rambled her apology. The rest of the room shifted awkwardly, unsure if they should intervene or just let it pass. You could feel your heart race, had that been the real reason for their breakup? You had always thought Scara had ended things on his own terms. 

Mona reached out for him, but Scara stood up abruptly, stepping over the scattered Jenga blocks on the floor as he moved toward the door. It creaked open, letting in a cold gust of night air before slamming shut behind him.

The room fell silent for a moment. Then, Mona stood, swaying slightly, and started after him.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea…” Kazuha murmured, but his words were drowned out by the sound of the door shutting once again.

“Did you guys know about all that?” Venti asked, turning to Aether.

“Since it’s out in the open, yeah,” Aether sighed.

“We need to stop giving her drinks,” Lumine muttered under her breath.

“I’m kind of worried about Mona going after him,” Childe said, rising from his seat to peer out the window. “Knowing Scara, he might drown himself… or her.”

“I’ll go be a witness to the murder then,” you blurted out before you could stop yourself. Childe gave you a sympathetic pat on the shoulder as you made your way out the door.

You didn’t know why you felt the sudden urge to follow him. It had always been about trying to surpass him before. But tonight…tonight you just wanted to catch up to him. To be equals.

SCARA’S POINT OF VIEW

The bench is cold beneath him and the sea breeze is a sharp slap against his face as he stares out at the crashing waves. It’s quiet but it does little to distract him from the turmoil in his chest. His fingers curl around the cigarette, the thin paper already loose from where he pocketed it earlier. He twirls it between his fingers absently, trying to focus on the motions instead of his thoughts.

The urge to light it is almost unbearable. He can almost feel the familiar ache, the way the smoke would crawl its way down his lungs and quiet everything inside him. It would help him forget. At least for a little while. 

But he promised he wouldn’t. 

Your words echo in his head like a soft, repeated prayer, something that clings to him even when he’s alone. He knows if he takes that drag, it’s one more step back from everything he's trying to hold onto. One more thing he’ll have to explain to you, and he can’t stomach that right now.

So instead, he flicks the cigarette into the sand, watching it settle there like a tiny, forgotten thing, and then turns his gaze back to the sea. His breath hitches in his chest. If it isn’t the lack of nicotine that’s bothering him, it’s something else. Something sharper, older.

Something that happened more than a year ago. 

Mona’s slurred words made the memory hit him with the force of a slap. It wasn’t her betrayal that stung, not really. He knew the two of them were never that serious. But it was the fact that she had chosen his mother over him. The fact that his own mother had paid her off like it was nothing. 

Mona had once been sweet back when they first met. Her determination to be an idol had reminded him of you in a way. Maybe he was just searching for a piece of you in anyone he could find. 

“Scara?”

He doesn’t have to turn to know it’s her. He can smell the alcohol before he hears the soft, slurred voice, and when he finally looks up, there she is, weaving on unsteady feet, her hair tangled around her shoulders, eyes glazed.

She’s drunk.

God, what a fucking mess.

“I—uh—can I sit?” She hiccups, and despite himself, he shifts slightly to make room on the bench, the muscles in his back tense, coiled, but his body obeys the unspoken politeness he’d long been taught.

Mona doesn’t wait for a response. She just slumps beside him, her hands gripping her knees like she’s trying to hold herself together.

“I didn’t mean it,” she says after a long silence, the words coming out in a rush, broken by more hiccups. “I didn’t mean to say it to everyone. I swear, I didn’t. I was just—I was just trying to make you… jealous, or something.”

Scara doesn’t say anything. He can already feel his patience wearing thin, his hand tightening into a fist. He knows where this is going.

“You know how I get when I drink,” she continues, her voice small, vulnerable in a way that makes his gut twist. She leans into him, her breath warm and sour with alcohol. “I was just trying to get a rise out of you. I thought... maybe it’d make you care more. Maybe it’d make you feel something for once, you know?”

He stares ahead, trying to focus on the horizon, trying to avoid the heat of her body next to his, the smell of liquor clinging to her like a second skin. She’s slurring more now, and with every word, the tension in his chest grows heavier, pressing down until he’s almost suffocating.

He can feel her swaying beside him, her body suddenly lurching forward as she clutches her stomach. He reaches out instinctively, used to her being like this, his hand awkwardly rubbing her back just to keep her from falling over. She feels so fragile in his touch, but that fragility doesn’t excuse the way she’s always tried to pull him back into her drama.

She leans in, too close again, her words spilling out in a rush like she's been holding them back for too long.

“You know...” she starts, her eyes dark and unfocused. “I only started acting out because you wouldn’t pay me any attention anymore. You were always complaining about YN. Always.”

She lets out a short, frustrated laugh, and then hiccups, her face flushing. “I know it wasn’t love, Scara. I’m not stupid. It was just a stupid distraction wasn’t it, from whatever you felt for them.”

He looks over at her, eyebrows furrowed.

“Even if you didn’t realize it back then, I did. Even if all we had was physical you can’t deny it worked. We were good at that. So yeah, I got a little carried away. But if you hadn’t been so busy chasing them around, maybe we wouldn’t be here right now.”

He can’t even find it in himself to deny it. After he had started dating her you’d started avoiding him for one reason or another. Maybe you thought everyone would get the wrong idea.

But it killed him. 

“That doesn’t mean you can just run off and take the first offer my mom gives to you,” he snaps, his tone cutting. “If you really didn’t like the way I treated you that badly, you could’ve left. You could’ve walked away. No one was holding you here.”

He shakes his head, frustrated they were having this talk now of all time, “But you didn’t, did you? You stayed. Because you knew being with me—even if it wasn’t love—would give you the eyes on you that you wanted so damn badly.”

“You’re right,” she admits, the words coming out quietly. “ But I didn’t know what else to do. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t care.”

Scara scoffs at that. 

“It didn’t look like it. All I saw was someone who was more interested in being the center of attention than me,” He shakes his head, turning his back to her for a moment. Honestly, he could keep going. But they were only having this conversation because she was drunk. There was no point, he was over it. 

He exhales sharply, his tone flat when he speaks again, as if he’s just given up.

"Yeah, okay," Scara mutters, voice distant. "It's fine. It’s not like you’ll even remember this tomorrow, anyway.”

It’s the only thing he says, just to make the whole thing stop. He knows she’s looking for something else. An apology, maybe, or some kind of validation. But he’s too fucking tired to give her that now. And it’s not like he’s going to receive one.

"Really?" Her voice rises in a way that makes him want to shove her away. "You're fine with it?"

He doesn’t respond, though now he’s just waiting for her to puke all over him. The sound of the ocean lapping against the shore is the only thing filling the silence, until she’s leaning in closer, her breath hot on his ear, her face too close.

“You know,” she whispers, her words slurred and soft, “I wouldn't mind going back to what we had. Just for a night.”

Before he can stop her, she’s pressing her lips to his, soft and insistent, her body leaning into his as though this is what she’s been waiting for all along. Her mouth is warm, her hands finding their way to his chest, and for a moment, Scara’s heart stops. 

Not because he wants it, but because he doesn’t.

He’s frozen, a quiet alarm ringing in his head. This isn’t real. This isn’t what he wants. Not from her. 

Even if it was only for a few seconds, the moment stretches too long until he can finally pry her away from him. And when he does finally pull back, his hand is shaking. 

“Don’t do that,” he says, voice tight with something: frustration, anger, confusion, maybe a little bit of pain. “Don’t try to fix this with... that.”

She blinks at him, confused, the haze of alcohol still clouding her eyes. "But... but I thought... we could—"

He stands up abruptly, cutting her off before she can make this worse. "Just... don't." The words hang in the air, heavy with finality.

She looks rather pitiful sitting on the bench like that, and he almost feels bad. Almost.

“You should just go,” he says, his voice flat, the exhaustion finally catching up to him.

But then, as he turns to leave, he sees you.

In the distance, walking towards the kitchens, your figure framed by the fading light. Seeing you makes something inside him twist. He starts to wonder why you’d come out soon after he stormed off. The idea of you coming back, walking over to him like you actually care. Just that thought is enough to loosen the tight knot in his chest. He didn’t even realize how much he was holding his breath, waiting for it. For a moment, he lets himself imagine you doing it. He almost expects it, but the longer he stands there, the more he realizes it’s just a fantasy. He watches you for a moment, then his stomach drops when he realizes if you were out there you must’ve walked by him. 

You had seen the kiss.

YOUR POINT OF VIEW

Your feet moved before your brain had a chance to tell you no. It was a strange instinct, one you didn’t quite understand. You’d never been one to comfort Scara. You’d been at odds with him for as long as you could remember, enemies in every sense of the word. 

But after what you’d learned about his mother just the thought of him being alone, struggling with it, gnawed at you. You wanted to check on him. You needed to check on him. 

The island was massive, and Scara wasn’t exactly known for his athleticism, so you figured it wouldn’t be too hard to find him. Still, your mind raced as you walked, trying to come up with something, anything, that would make him feel even a fraction better. What could you say to him that wouldn’t sound patronizing, or worse, awkward? You weren’t even sure you could help him, but you had to try.

And then, there it was.

The beach. The bench. The figure slumped against it. Scara. The cigarette in his hand. You’d found him.

Your heart skipped a beat, but you tried to steady yourself. This wasn’t a time to lose control. But before you could take another step, your eyes caught the familiar outline of someone else. Mona. She was walking toward him, wobbling a little as she approached, and suddenly the moment felt off.

You stopped in your tracks, half hidden by a few tall bushes nearby, your body suddenly rooted in place. You should’ve turned around and gone back to the party. Scara was clearly occupied. He would be okay, right?

But no. Your eyes stayed locked on the two of them. You couldn’t tear your gaze away.

Mona was standing next to him now, her chest heaving slightly from hiccups, and her words were slurred as she spoke. Scara wasn’t saying much, but his hand moved, almost instinctively, it seemed, to rub her back, slow and careful. As if he was...comforting her. You felt your pulse quicken, a strange sense of something building up in your chest, something like a heavy weight pressing down on your ribs.

A normal person would’ve walked away, turned around and walked back to the party, chalking it up to nothing more than two people talking, nothing more than Scara being himself. But you were never normal when it came to Scara. So instead, you stayed rooted in the shadow, just watching like some creep. The words you had rehearsed in your head seemed meaningless now, overshadowed by the confusion swelling inside you. What was happening?

And then, without warning, you saw it.

Mona leaned in, her lips pressing against Scara’s.

The world tilted on its axis. You didn’t even know how to react at first. A cold knot of jealousy, something sharp and unexpected, wrapped around your chest, and you felt like the air had been sucked out of your lungs. 

Scara, someone you’d considered your mortal enemy, the person you had spent years fighting against, was kissing Mona. She wasn’t even trying to hide it, her hands clinging to his chest. Just the sight was enough to leave you standing there, paralyzed. 

You shouldn’t care. You shouldn’t care.

It was a mantra you were repeating in your head. But the jealousy gnawed at you in a way you didn’t understand, the sting in your chest a sharp reminder that maybe you cared a lot more than you’d ever let on. You’d always been jealous of Scara throughout the years, that feeling was something familiar. But this was something different. Your stomach is twisting with something you couldn’t name. Something that hurt to acknowledge.

Oh.

Oh.

Without even thinking, you turned away, stepping back into the shadows, your feet felt heavy beneath you. You had no idea what you were feeling anymore. Or you did, but you couldn’t even voice it. 

Scara was kissing Mona. Your Scara. Your Kuni. And you were standing there, like a fool. 

If you had run after him a bit faster would you be the one he’d be kissing? That wasn’t the problem, though. No. The thing that bothered you the most was the way it made you feel like an outsider. The way it reminded you, in an almost painful way, that you weren’t the one he turned to for comfort. 

That was how it had always been. Always. It shouldn’t have mattered.

But it did.

You didn’t know when it happened. Maybe it was the way he looked at you when he was angry, or the way he tried to hide his vulnerabilities. Maybe it was the constant back-and-forth, the challenge. Maybe it was the fact that he was always there, whether it be to hit you with a snarky remark or laugh at you when you fell second to him again. He’d always been there.

But you cared. And that made you want to punch something, or scream, or both. You’d never imagined a day when you would care about Scara in any way other than annoyance, or the irritation of seeing him always one step ahead. 

Suddenly, your feet moved as fast as they could to get you out of there.

The walk from the beach to the kitchens feels like it takes longer than it should. The adrenaline from earlier is wearing off. 

You step into the kitchens, the cool air inside a sharp contrast to the warmth of the night outside. The lights are low, casting shadows over the countertops, still littered from the dishes from earlier. A clink of glass catches your attention first, and then a familiar voice. 

“You finally made it in here.”

You stop, looking up until your eyes land on Heizou. His casual smile is the same one he always had, though there's something softer in it tonight, like he’s been waiting. He’s got a glass of water in his hand, and you realize he must’ve been looking for you. He’s the last person you want to see right now, but he doesn’t seem surprised by your presence.

“You didn’t go back to the party,” he continues, setting the glass down on the counter. “I figured you might be hiding in here. You don’t look like you’re in the mood for another drink.”

You’re about to reply, but he catches you off guard by speaking up.

“Are you okay?” 

You pause. It’s a simple question, but for some reason, it feels heavy. Before you even know what’s happening, the words just spill out.

“No, I’m not okay,” you start, your voice a little more brittle than you intended. 

“I just... I just watched him. Scara. I saw him with Mona. It’s like everything I’ve been trying to avoid came crashing down in front of me. I don’t even know what to feel. It’s just... why is everything so complicated? Why does he have to make things so complicated?”

Heizou doesn’t interrupt, doesn’t look at you like you’re insane for spilling everything. He just watches, his calm expression making the chaos in your head even more prominent.

“Is that really what’s bothering you?” he asks softly, the faintest hint of concern in his eyes.

You blink, realizing that you’ve been ranting and completely unaware of how you’ve been projecting everything onto him. Heizou seems to sense it too, because next thing you know, he’s stepping closer, his presence warm and steady as he leans a little into the counter beside you.

“Hey,” he says, his tone gentle. “Come on. You need to relax.”

Before you can protest, Heizou wraps a reassuring arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. He places a hand lightly on your head, urging you to lean into him. You hesitate for a moment before giving in, resting your cheek against his shoulder. His body is a familiar comfort, though you didn’t expect it to be this comforting tonight. In the quiet of the kitchen, you realize how exhausted you are. 

“You know,” Heizou says, his voice quiet but teasing, “I have no chance now, do I?”

You blink, not fully processing his words. “Huh?”

Heizou laughs softly, caressing his hand over your cheek, “Still as oblivious as ever, huh?”

You feel your brow furrow. “What are you talking about?”

Heizou’s fingers brush through your hair gently, like he’s trying to sort through his own thoughts. “It’s him, right?”

You pull back just enough to meet his eyes, your heart beating a little faster. “What? No. I—”

But before you can finish, Heizou cuts you off, a playful glint in his eyes. “You know, I saw you two kiss on the show. The hot tub.” He pauses, studying your face for any shift. “It was... something, wasn’t it?”

You feel your stomach tighten, the thought of the kiss now a distant, uncomfortable memory. “You know that was fake, right?” you say quickly, trying to downplay it. “It didn’t mean anything. It was just part of the show.”

Heizou’s eyes stay locked on yours for a long moment, and there’s a flicker of something unreadable in his gaze. He nods slowly, but there’s a slight edge to his tone. “Yeah, I get it. But it was your first kiss, right? It had to have meant something. At least to you.”

You swallow, the words suddenly feeling sharp. Your chest tightens, and you know you have to say something. You didn’t want to hurt Heizou’s feelings after he came all the way out here. 

“No. It didn’t,” you say, your voice firm but tinged with something that feels more like a lie than you want to admit. “It was all fake. The kiss...everything. It didn’t mean anything.”

You don’t notice at first, but Heizou’s smile falters just the tiniest bit. “Yeah. Sure,” he says, his voice warmer now, almost wistful. 

He doesn’t say anything else, but the silence between you both stretches out, heavy with unspoken understanding. You feel a little stupid for saying so much, for trying to convince him, or even yourself, that it was all nothing. You knew it was far from nothing.

Heizou finally breaks the tension, grabbing the water bottles he came in for. “Yeah, sure. Well, I guess I should get back to the others and sober them up. But... good luck, okay? With everything. With…him.”

You stand there, watching him leave, suddenly realizing you’ve just unloaded more than you intended. But before he walks out the door, Heizou looks back, giving you one last knowing look, then disappears back into the hallway.

You’re still standing there when you hear a soft voice outside the kitchen door.

“Interesting.”

You freeze. Your heart skips a beat.

You turn slowly, your breath catching in your throat when you see Scara standing in the doorway, arms crossed, eyes narrowed, like he’s been listening the entire time.

For a second, all you can do is stare at him. And then it hits you, the way Heizou’s words must’ve sounded to him. The way you had tried to downplay the kiss. The way you’d tried to convince Heizou that it meant nothing.

Scara raises an eyebrow, looking almost amused, but his eyes were glazed over with something else. “Didn’t mean anything, huh?”

The words stick in your throat, and before you can even try to explain, the hurt in his eyes is enough to make you realize he’s probably already misunderstood.

SCARA’S POINT OF VIEW

Scara barely registered the words Mona was slurring anymore, his thoughts still tangled in knots from everything that had just happened. The sour taste of her lips still lingered. That wasn’t what bothered him. What bothered him was the thought of you seeing him like that. Seeing him with Mona.

He had to get out of there. Fast.

His mind raced as he stormed off, barely even registering where his feet were taking him. His body moved on autopilot, following after you towards the kitchens.

When he reached the door, he paused for a moment, chest tight with a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. There was a soft clinking sound from inside. The low hum of voices.

And then he heard it.

Heizou. Of course. Scara narrowed his eyes, already annoyed. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with him.

The door was slightly ajar, and without even thinking, Scara found himself inching closer, the need to know what was going on outweighing the nagging voice in his head telling him to turn around. To leave.

What he saw made his stomach churn in a way he hadn’t expected.

You were standing there, your face softer than he’d ever seen it, as Heizou pulled you into his side. The way your body melted into him like it was second nature to be close to him was unsettling, like something sharp had just slid under his skin.

For a second, Scara froze. His thoughts were clouded with the absurdity of it. You with Heizou? Who didn’t know you like he did? Absurd.

It wasn’t like you owed him an explanation. Yet the sight of you resting against him, affectionate, something Scara hadn’t seen you do with him made him... unseen. Like he didn’t belong in your life at all. The knot in his chest pulled tighter.

His breath caught, and before he could do something stupid he stopped himself. What was he even supposed to say? He wasn’t entitled to anything from you. He wasn’t yours. 

So he stayed outside, watching. Listening. 

He could hear Heizou’s voice, low and teasing, and then yours, soft but firm.

“No. It didn’t,” you said, your voice cutting through the quiet kitchen, and Scara’s chest clenched painfully. “You know that was all fake, right? It didn’t mean anything. It was just part of the show.”

His heart skipped a beat, the words slicing through the silence like a blade. His stomach churned, and the weight of them hit him harder than any punch. 

It wasn’t supposed to matter. It shouldn’t matter.

But it did.

Scara’s fingers dug into the frame of the door, his knuckles white. The words rang in his ears, repeating over and over. He tried to steady himself, tried to remind himself that it was all a game. The hot tub wasn’t supposed to mean anything to him, until it did. 

But hearing you say it, hearing you so casually dismiss the kiss, made him feel like he was choking on something sharp and heavy. It was all fake. He had no right to feel that way.

The worst part was, he didn’t even know what to do with it. With you.

You’d both made it clear from the start that this wasn’t supposed to be anything. A show, a performance. The kiss was meaningless. Just another part of the script. He didn’t expect anything different. But hearing you say it so coldly and without any hesitation made something in him snap. 

Before he could take a step back, Heizou’s voice drifted through the door again, a quiet laugh in his tone. “Yeah, sure.”

Scara could practically hear the smirk in his voice. 

“Yeah, I get it. But it was your first kiss, right? It had to have meant something. At least to you.” The burgundy haired nuisance continued. 

Scara's breath hitched, his chest tightening even further as he leaned in closer to the door, his pulse quickening. He felt an uncontrollable wave of frustration crashing through him. He could feel the words hitting him, one after the other, like Heizou’s voice was a punch to the gut. But worse was the feeling that came with it. The one that told him Heizou was right. That it had meant something. That he had somehow allowed himself to believe that the kiss between you and him had meant something beyond a simple game. He hadn’t realized how stupid you were making him. 

But then your voice came through, clear and harsh, “It was all fake. The kiss...everything. It didn’t mean anything.”

Scara’s fingers trembled at the doorframe. The knot in his chest was tightening, twisting around his lungs. You were denying it. Denying him. The kiss, the heat, the rush of it. You were dismissing it like it had been nothing more than a convenient illusion. You weren’t wrong, the rational part of him knew that. That didn’t mean he had hoped you’d thought otherwise. 

Everything he had been fighting so hard to bury flared back to life, hotter than before.

Heizou chuckled, a lighthearted sound, but it only made Scara feel more exposed. “Yeah, sure.” Heizou’s voice grew quieter, and Scara heard him getting ready to leave. “Well, I guess I should get back to the others and sober them up. But... good luck, okay? With everything. With…him.”

The kitchen door creaked as it swung open, and Heizou left without a second glance, his footsteps fading down the hall.

He was about to turn and leave, he had too. But just as always with you, he couldn’t help but fight back. 

“Interesting.”

You stood there in the doorway, looking caught between embarrassment and something else, your face pale, your eyes flicking nervously between the open door and him.

Scara stared at you for a long moment, his throat tight, before he spoke, his voice low and strained.

“Didn’t mean anything, huh?”

It wasn’t a question. It was a statement.

YOUR POINT OF VIEW

Scara lets out a dry chuckle, sharp and almost bitter, before walking off. Your heart is still racing, adrenaline surging through you. The confusion is all still a blur.

And yet you follow him. 

Something you’d never do, especially with him. But a part of you still wants to make sure he’s okay. And a bigger part of you doesn’t want him to walk away with the wrong idea. 

“Why’d you follow me here?” you ask, your voice louder than you intended, still thick with that adrenaline.

He stops abruptly and turns around, eyes dark, but there’s something else there, too: vulnerability. 

“Why did you follow me?” he shoots back, his voice low, taunting almost, but you can hear the frustration beneath it.

You stand there for a moment, trying to find the right words, but your thoughts feel tangled. “I just... wanted to see if you were okay,” you say, quieter now, your shoulders sagging. “I know your mom sucks, but...it seems like you were occupied.” You didn’t mean it to come off as bitter as it did.

Scara freezes for a split second, his gaze narrowing into something hard. “She’s the one who came onto me, okay?” His voice is biting, “I shoved her right off. And you can’t say shit, you were all over him back there.”

For a second, you can’t say anything. You feel a hot flush rise to your face. You take a breath, and then the words spill out, almost before you can stop them. “That didn’t even mean anything,” you mutter. “He was just... comforting me. I said that so he wouldn’t feel bad.” You don’t want to explain why. You’re glad he wasn’t there for the entire conversation.

Scara’s eyes flicker with something sharp. “Fine,” he spits out, hands gesturing in exasperation. “It’s all fake, then. Fine! It doesn’t matter. Whatever, you don’t need to explain yourself.”

You feel the words sting, and before you can even think, you’re snapping back. “Fine! Fine, Scara. If that’s what you want to believe, go ahead.”

You both stand there for a few seconds, glaring at each other, neither of you willing to back down. And then, just like that, you both start walking in the same direction.

You glance at him, a little incredulous. “You go first.”

Scara doesn’t even look at you. “No, you go first.”

“I said it first!” you protest, taking a step forward.

“No, you go.”

A beat of silence. Then, in unison, both of you groan.

“Oh my god,” you mutter under your breath. “This is stupid.”

Neither of you says anything else, but you both start walking again. Side by side, but without speaking. The tension between you hasn’t fully dissipated, but now it’s more muted, like you’re both too tired to keep fighting.

By the time you reach the door to the dorms, the adrenaline has started to drain away, leaving only the residual ache of whatever you two just went through. You both stop at the doorstep, standing for a moment in the cool night air.

Scara's eyes drift lazily over to a bottle resting on the corner of the porch, a forgotten drink from earlier in the evening. Without a word, he picks it up, twists off the cap, and offers it to you, his face impassive.

“Want some?” His voice is quieter now, a little less sharp, though the remnants of the earlier tension still hang in the air.

You take it without thinking, your hand brushing his as you grab the bottle. Your throat feels dry, like you’ve just run a marathon, like everything from tonight has left you parched. He’s always left you out of breath.

You take a long sip, the alcohol burning down your throat, and pass it back. Scara drinks, then hands it back to you with a quiet gesture. You both settle onto the steps, the weight of the night pressing down around you, but the silence feels somehow comfortable now.

You’re not sure why, but with each sip, you feel a little less tense, a little less angry. It’s still there, but it's somehow quieter now. Maybe because it doesn’t feel like you need to have all the answers, not right now. Not with him sitting next to you like this.

For a while, neither of you speaks. The only sound is the distant sound of waves crashing against the shore and the occasional sip from the bottle between you. You pass it back and forth like it’s the easiest thing in the world. The weight of the argument is still there, sure, but somehow it doesn’t matter so much anymore.

SCARA’S POINT OF VIEW

The quiet hum of the night surrounds you both as you sit on the porch, the sounds of crickets and the occasional hum of the waves filling the spaces between breaths. The bottle you’re passing back and forth feels less heavy now, unlike the unspoken things still floating around like ghosts between you and him.

You break the silence first, your voice quieter than you intended. “So, what were you and Mona talking about?”

He doesn’t answer right away, taking a slow swig from the bottle, his eyes fixed somewhere off in the distance. His lips press together in a tight line, but he finally turns to you, his expression unreadable. “Well, she was talking at me, really. I couldn’t get a word in edgewise. She was asking if I was ever in love with her…”

You raise an eyebrow, curious, “Well, were you?”

Scara’s gaze shifts. His body is tense. He doesn’t meet your eyes immediately, instead looking off to the side, like he’s searching for something. 

He feels the precipice you're both on. 

He wants to jump. 

“No.”

The word hangs there, and for a moment, everything is still. He can feel the air between you both shift, like the ground beneath your guys’ feet has tilted slightly.

“Really?” you ask, more quietly this time. “How did you know you weren’t in love with her?”

He doesn’t answer right away. He shifts on the step, his foot tapping idly against the wood. He wants to say he just knew, as cliche as that sounds. His eyes are fixed forward now, knowing if he looks at you his words won’t leave his mouth. He takes a swig.

The words come out slowly, like he’s still figuring them out as he speaks.

“I don’t know... I just knew, I guess.” He hesitates, then adds, “What I felt for her is different from what I know love is.”

The silence stretches, and he feels like you’re standing at the edge of something with him. 

He’s waiting. He thinks he’s always been waiting for you.

“And you… know what that feels like?” you ask, voice softer now, almost hesitant, like you’re testing the waters.

His eyes finally rake over you.

“I do now.”

You opened your mouth, and he’s hoping something, anything, comes out of it. He felt like he’d just sliced his chest open and was bearing his heart to you with bloodied hands.

His words hang in the air for a long moment, strange and heavy. Your gaze catches his, and for just a second, there’s a flicker in your eyes, something guarded but knowing. Scara holds your gaze, and for a fleeting moment, it’s like everything in him stills. The air is thick, as if the words you’ve both danced around are hanging just out of reach. His fingers tighten around the neck of the bottle, the cool glass a stark contrast to the heat creeping up his neck.

He knows this feeling all too well. The way his chest tightens when he realizes something he’s been waiting for will never come. His mother’s attention. You. It’s a feeling he’s all but accustomed too. But there you were, just out of his reach. He doesn’t expect you to understand. Hell, he doesn’t even understand himself half the time. But in that moment, sitting next to you, he wants you too. 

The weight of your unspoken words presses on him. But maybe that’s all this will ever be, a weight. The knowledge that he’ll never feel the same way about anyone else and that you’ll never feel the same about him. That thought stabs at him like a shard of ice in his chest, cold and sharp. He wants to say something, but the words aren’t there. Not yet. Not ever, maybe. 

“We should go inside,” he murmurs, breaking the silence, his voice almost a whisper against the night’s stillness. 

His voice drops further, and he shifts slightly on the step, his leg brushing against yours. It’s an unconscious motion, but it feels deliberate somehow. Like he wants to be closer but knows better than to ask for it. 

“Yeah,” you pipe up from beside him, “We should.”

Yet you both sit there for a few more minutes, passing the bottle until nothing is left in its wake. He doesn’t look over at you again, doesn’t dare too. Instead he gets up and goes inside, leaving you behind. 

Something you’ve always said he’s good at.

[00:00:00] POST PARADISE DATE TAKE ONE

YAE: So, do you want to talk about today?

SCARAMOUCHE: Talk about what?

YAE: The kiss, obviously. What else would we talk about?

SCARAMOUCHE: What happened to "Hi, how are you?"

YAE: [LAUGHING] This is a safe space.

SCARAMOUCHE: It absolutely is not, but you want to talk about the kiss? Fine. It wasn't real. I didn't even kiss her back, she was drunk and I don't love her. And I'm not that much of an asshole to take advantage of someone drunk. I'm a terrible person, but not that bad.

YAE: [SPEECHLESS]

SCARAMOUCHE: This is fucking stupid. Why did l even have to explain myself? I have nothing to prove to anybody. [GETS UP]

YAE: Scaramouche, wait—

SCARAMOUCHE: [WALKS OFF SCREEN]

stuck with you!

materlist — prev | next

(typos) *slide 6: feelings wheel / *slide 8: i just had this realization

first update of the year wow!

sorry guys i’m scared to do the keep reading button so…😛

after typing oh. oh. i was like ooh bitch i ate

also ignore how scara lowk littered uhm he picked up his cig after dw! environmentally friendly king!

pls comment or send me an ask if u enjoyed i need motivation 🤗

comment on the MASTERLIST if i can use ur user as a fan in the au!

notes — four updates during break ur welcome! my break ends in two weeksish so idk if ill be able post another one before then so let me rest xx

synopsis — after the disaster that was the live award show, where you and scaramouche got into an argument on stage after both of your groups got a tie for top artists, your guys' PR teams have been in shambles trying to scrape up your mess. that's when the idea to send you both off with some other idols to a remote location for a survival dating show to mend your public image comes up. before you know it your bags are packed and you’re on a plane to a remote island. the only obligation is you need to end up with scaramouche at the end of the show, whether you end up liking him or not doesn’t matter to your managers as long as the show’s ratings stay high. whatever you do in between to get there is up to you!

taglist — (closed) @na1lea @cindywasneverhere @lunavixia @aestherin @mlaakai @camvrin @retiredmommylover @iheartpieck @cartierfiles @loveariel @silly-ez @mochipls @pomeiu @flowerypesky @creammpuff @boxdisappeared @kissingkzuha @webbywill @kazusboyfriend @s3xpistolss @bunns-wonderland @lordbugs @localgirlywithnolife @kosumos @danfelions @featuredtofu @pinxeajin @haeunoo @scaradooche @pglt19 @chemiru @childesbabygirl @simonisferal @shutingstar @ttalgi @esuz @tokkishouse @kitsuvil @scarasmood @ihearttori @nomurahayami @starringyau @androxphobic @reivelmin @animeobsessed56 @femaholicc @vi0let-writes @izayumi-chan @aloflapse

[madamechrissy]

Yandere Roomie Gojo

MDNI- NSFW- Satoru x you

CW: there is obviously yandere content here, look at the title lol. Videoing w/o consent, being psycho and controlling, oral sex (f recieving) breed kink like a MF, manipulation, reader rolls w/ it bc it's Gojo, don't read if you don't like darker things, I have plenty of sweet Gojo stories here

Yandere Roomie Gojo who may or may not have bribed your landlord to kick you out, just so you'd have to live with him, but don't worry, you're better off this way, he knows what's best for you!

Yandere Roomie Gojo who is your 'best friend' such a good friend that he drives you wherever you need to go, when your car keeps mysteriously breaking down (hmm, couldn't be him removing parts could it?)

Yandere Roomie Gojo who smiles and blinks his beautiful blue eyes on you when you show him your outfit for the night. 'oh, going out? where?' he asks so casually, you flush a bit as his eyes slowly asses your body, you wish he would ask you out, but you think you're probably just friends. 'a date.'

Yandere Roomie Gojo holds back his anger at the thought of anyone touching what must be his, but he puts on another bright smile, raising a thin white brow 'ya need a ride, sweets?' 'no, he's coming to get me, don't worry!'

Yandere Roomie Gojo surely can't just let you go on some date alone, what if something happens to you? Sure, he has a tracker on your phone, but he decides to follow you there, sitting in his fancy sports car as he spies on you, your date and you are sitting outside and having drinks, making him furious when the guy touches your thigh.

Yandere Roomie Gojo sees you tense a bit, staring at your phone, and the guy is getting too handsy, he sees your text then, and his heart thuds from his chest. Satoru, I'm so sorry are you busy? he needs no further reason to get out of his car, smiling and sauntering over, hands in the pockets of his slacks, as you look at him with shock, mouth wide open.

Yandere Roomie Gojo has you in his car next to him, you're torn between asking how he got there so fast and just being relieved he's here. 'Toru...' fuck that nickname ruins him. 'yeah, sweets?' You lean over and press a kiss on his cheek. 'thank you for coming to get me, I just... didn't like his vibe I guess'

Yandere Roomie Gojo has you back in his house now, you live in a fucking penthouse with this gorgeous, tall man, and the couple of drinks you've had loosen you up too much, Satoru wants to fuck you so hard you remember he owns you, but he needs it to be your idea, so he just kisses your forehead. 'get some sleep'

Yandere Roomie Gojo is stroking his cock as he watches you strip in your room, of course he has cameras in there, you're being stubborn so far and won't let him see what's his. You sit on your bed then, in some lacy slutty panties and a bra, spreading your thighs and thinking of him, of Satoru, slipping your fingers down your slick cunt, playing with your throbbing clit now, all while Satoru watches, fucking into his hand and picturing you.

Yandere Roomie Gojo hears you cry out his name then, clear as day, blinking rapidly, your fingers are pushing in and out of your little hole, you're not trying to be quiet either, and then he can't fucking take it, it's like you're facing the camera on purpose but you couldn't know. he continues to watch you until he can't take it, slipping up his boxers and walking to your door.

Yandere Roomie Gojo realizes you left the door unlocked, and you gasp when he enters, but you don't cover yourself up at all, no you spread your thighs, revealing your soaked panties your little hand has slipped under. Satoru glares at you now. 'what are you doing, huh? playing with what's mine?' You tremble a bit, sucking yourself off your finger then. 'then show me, Satoru'

Yandere Roomie Gojo doesn't realize how badly you've wanted him, and how you've noticed some things, you noticed the little camera in your room last week, and you got off on him watching you. You know he's probably fucking up your car, and you didn't even wanna go on that date, but it's all to get him to finally drop his act, and drop it he does, when he kisses you over your lacy panties, tongue lapping at you now.

Yandere Roomie Gojo has his hair being pulled by you, fingers enwrapping in silky white locks, as you yank him against you, crying out while he's making your flimsy barrier nothing. He rips them off you then, revealing your soaking wet cunt. 'show you that you're mine, all mine, pussy only will be touched by me, got it baby?' you just nod eagerly, earning his sadistic laugh as he swipes his tongue up your slit, making juices pool from your little hole.

Yandere Roomie Gojo devours your pussy in the quiet room, filled with the sounds of his slurping, your squelching wetness and both of your moans then. He sucks your clit in his hot mouth, blue eyes looking under snowy lashes while you fall apart for him, drenching his face with your arousal, which he laps up every fucking bit, until he leans up smirking, shoving two fingers in your tight hole, whsipering 'never fucking anyone else, got me baby?'

Yandere Roomie Gojo is curling his long fingers in your gummy walls, pressing that spot that blinds you, you cling to him, back arching, he yanks your tits out with his other hand, they bounce gently as he smacks them then. 'Answer me, now' 'only want you, Satoru... I already know you... w-want me...' he glares, leaning over you, so big and intimidating, as he's scissoring his fingers in your sloppy cunt. 'what's that now? can't hear you over your slutty pussy'

Yandere Roomie Gojo watches as your eyes roll back in your skull, watches you twitch as you soak his hand. 'I know, Toru... I know you w-watch me, psycho' he snorts then, yanking his fingers out, making you whine 'n-no, more please!' he shoves his fingers in your mouth, watching you suck your juices off them eagerly. 'you get off on it, me being fucking obsessed, huh?' you nod weakly, and Satoru has your thighs spread and pressed up, his tip drooling precum against your aching hole. 'then let me be clear, you'll never see or date anyone again, got it?'

Yandere Roomie Gojo grins as you weakly nod, filling your tight hole in one stroke, stuffing you so full you scream out, pussy gripping him like a vise, drooling down his veiny cock to his balls, pooling under you. He loses his contol then, gripping your thighs and leaning over you, blue eyes dilated and fucking insane as he fucks into you, slamming your poor cervix as you try to wriggle, you can't even breathe, he's everywhere. 'this what you wanted, me to show you how much I want you?' 'show me, please'

Yandere Roomie Gojo fucks you so hard you couldn't care less about how insane he is, not when he's got you on your tummy, filling you prone bone, not when he's cumming so deep and filling your cunt, and certainly not when he's got you on his face, his cum and yours pooling as he laps you up. And definitely not when he's using you like his little fuckdoll, slamming up into your eager hole, smirking as he watches the bulge in your tummy, the way your cute fucked out face looks, the tears of overstimulation in your eyes.

Yandere Roomie Gojo lets you know then 'gonna breed this pussy, put babies in you, k-keep you here with me' you should probably be scared, but it's Satoru Gojo saying it, and you just whimper in response, while he fills you again and again, to the point you're passing out from so much pleasure, and he's still pushing you further, like he's not even human.

Yandere Roomie Gojo the next day is back to being sweet it seems, smiling and having made you breakfast, you wince as you sit down, aching and throbbing all over. You nibble on it, humming to yourself, then see your phone unlocked on the counter. 'you have my phone, Toru?' 'yeah sweets, period tracker. threw out those birth control pills too, don't worry. also... do you need that job anymore?'

Yandere Roomie Gojo watches the shock on your pretty face, but you soon forget it when he's got you spread wide on the kitchen table, plates clattered to the floor, and he's laughing at your poor puffy lips, your abused little hole. 'mine' he murmurs, as he eats his breakfast, you.

Gojo drabbles here - Gojo long oneshots here

Being yandere isn't cool unless you're Gojo, that's the PSA- I may make this a whole ass oneshot if anyone wants? lmk lol

Perma tags- @alt--er--love @seeing-stars-alt @nanasukii28 @labelt-san @makingtimemine @cuntphoric 🩵 perma tag for gojo: @haruhatake @strychnynegirl @chiyokoemilia 🩵

request from @watermelonslut but I made him yandere lol

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

Unsteady

You get hit on patrol. You go down hard. What happens after is a blur, but what you do know, is that you were never scared for a moment. ~ 2k words

A/N: I wanted to try a new format for my fics, so pictures! I'm not sure how I feel about it yet, tho, so I might change it again

Being a vigilante in Gotham has never been easy. Between the bullet wounds, secret societies, and their attempted brainwashing tactics, and the more than a little tricky partnerships you have to navigate, sometimes you wonder how you've managed to make it for so long.

Don't get it wrong, saving people, taking out criminals, making the streets a little bit safer, you thrive on it. You live for the moments where you feel invincible, shouting awful quips back and forth with whoever you're patrolling with. The seconds where a civilian grabs your hand, smiling and alive and relieved by how easily you've taken down their attackers.

You do good in Gotham, a city that always seems to lack it. And, even if there are dangers that come with it, you've never really minded the risk. At least, not since you've started patrolling with Red Hood.

You're not exactly sure how it started. One day, you spent your nights alone more often than not, and then one day, you didn't. You think it might have been the Falcone bust you worked on together, or maybe it was the trauma bonding over getting trapped and tangled in Ivy's latest strain of living, grabby plant traps together.

Whatever it was, more nights than not, Red Hood lingers at your side while you traverse rooftops, and you've found a routine in following him on his own patrols through Crime Alley and The Hill. What started as a tentative trust quickly built to a steady partnership.

You know which ankle he tends to roll if he lands on the pavement wrong. He knows which shoulder you tend to favor when Gotham gets cold. You know his favorite street food vendor and order by heart. He knows what safehouses you stash your preferred drinks and snacks in– and how often they need to be resupplied.

You both keep each other from being too reckless, and honestly, you don't think either of you have ever really had that. It's not either of you have stopped throwing yourself into fights where you're outnumbered (but never out matched), it's just that you're not alone doing it.

Red Hood– Jason– has your back the same way you have his. And it makes Gotham a little less terrifying. It makes patrol– the idea that one day a simple mistake could mean you don't come home– a little less burdensome.

You knew you relied on him, maybe a little too much if you thought too hard about it. You just didn't realize how much space you made for him until it was pointed out to you. Nightwing makes note of it first, teasing you for having an entire pouch on your utility belt dedicated to extra ammo magazines for Red Hood's gun. Robin notices it next, admonishing you for not checking your six during a fight, even if Jason was covering you.

You'd be embarrassed if Red Hood didn't have the same amount of faith in you as you did in him. He trusts you to take point on missions, believes you when you offer him tips and whispers of cases he's working on.

You try not to read too far into it, but how could you feel anything but special when he so willingly lets you wander Crime Alley at his side, and rarely anyone else? When he calls you his partner? Calls dibs on patrolling with you? How could you not revel in the fact that someone so big and capable and sure in himself relies on you?

But for all the trust and skill that exists between you and Red Hood, sometimes you get unlucky. Sometimes, all it takes is one misstep, one slow reaction, for it all to go wrong.

It was supposed to be easy, routine. Just a small group of thugs trying to break their way into the back alley entrance of a jewelry store. It was supposed to be simple– you were even having fun, holding back laughter at how quickly they seemed to fall to the ground with each well aimed kick and jab.

With Red Hood taking one end of the alley and you the other, you thought you had them surrounded, you didn't even consider that there were more people around the corner.

You didn't hear them come up behind you– more preoccupied with dodging a punch to your throat– when a loud crack sounds through the alley. You drop to your knees– ears ringing, bile rising in your throat, vision swimming.

The back of your head aches, and you know you're in danger, likely concussed. But you don't know what happened– was it a pipe? A bat? You know you need to move, but you can't get your body to listen, can't get yourself off of the ground as the world seems to tip and fade in and out as you heave.

You wait for the next hit, another burst of pain, but it never comes. There's shouting– gunshots maybe, you can't focus on it. You force your gaze up, and the colors and figures seem to blur into one nauseating sight.

You think you make out Red Hood, slamming one of the men into the ground. It's hard to process anything– to understand what you're seeing. Red Hood lurches towards you, or maybe he's just moving onto the next goon. Maybe he doesn't even know you're down.

You can't tell and maybe you should be scared. All it would take is one well aimed bullet to change everything. But you're not afraid. Even as black dots dance in your vision, even as your stomach churns and the noises that fill the alley seem pitched and garbled in your ears, you know that Red Hood will not let you die.

You think you see someone raising a bat to strike at you. You want to block, defend yourself, but your body feels too heavy to move. You squeeze your eyes shut instead, trying to quell the bile in your throat as you curl your fingers into fists, desperately trying to stop shaking, to ward off the cold sweats and pain that seem to be radiating on every inch of your skin.

You wait for the inevitable strike that will knock you clean into unconsciousness, but it still doesn't come. You lean forward, gasping for air as another wave of dizziness hits you, when gentle hands grab your shoulders, guiding you to straighten out again.

"Hey, hey," the familiar robotic voice washes over you, steady, if not a little anxious to the trained ear, "I've got you, open your eyes for me, sweet thing. Lemme see you."

You do, unable to do anything but listen. Bodies lay crumpled around you in the alley. You don't quite understand how he got to you so fast. He was on the other side of the alley, nearly a dozen men between the two of you, and it feels like he fought his way to your side within seconds. Maybe you had gone down longer– and harder– then you realized.

"There you are," He murmurs, carefully tilting your chin up to examine your face, he watches you for a moment, the way your breath doesn't quite seem to find a regular rhythm. He brushes his fingers over the back of your head next, feeling for any fractures in your skull.

He lets out a sigh of relief when he finds none, "Looks like it's just a concussion, some bruising. We'll get you back to the cave, make sure you're not bleeding, alright?"

You want to nod, but you think if you moved right now you think you'd throw up into his lap. Which would be mortifying. You also might be incredibly distracted by how close he is. It's not every day you get to admire the way his hair peeks out from under his hood, the set of his broad shoulders, the way the whites of his mask seem to glow in the shadows of the alley.

He's incredibly handsome in the Gotham moonlight.

And then he laughs, lowering his hand from the back of your head, "Thanks, doll. Think you can stand up on your own?"

Oh. Did you say that out loud? You didn't mean to. You furrow your eyebrows, trying to get the words you actually want to say off of your tongue, "M'fine," you mumble, narrowing your eyes in an attempt to get your world to stop spinning for a moment, to try and find your balance.

"You're slurring your words," he points out, hands finding your shoulders again as you pitch slightly to the side, "How's your head?"

"Hurts," You admit, giving up on your attempt to stand. You choose to admire him instead, the curve of his throat, the tilt of his jaw towards you.

"I bet," He mumbles, before falling silent, letting the moment linger just long enough for you to start to relax, lulled into a daze by your dizziness. "I'm going to carry you," he decides.

You don't get to protest, as if you're in the state to. He just maneuvers himself to your side, gently hooking one arm around your back, and the other under your knees to lift you to his chest.

A new wave of nausea runs down your spine, and you tuck your head into his shoulder, fingers curling against the red bat engraved into his armor, "Sorry" Jason mumbles, going still as he waits for your dizzy spell to pass, "Guess he got you good, huh?"

"Was my fault," you sigh out, closing your eyes as you nuzzle closer into the comfort of the crook of his neck, "Got complacent." It takes you longer than it should have to sound your syllables out, even longer to unstick your tongue from the roof of your mouth, but you think you manage to sound at least slightly coherent.

"Nah, sweetheart, it was mine," He lowers his voice even more as he talks, careful not to make your head ring anymore than it already is, to not jostle your injuries (and brain) and more than they already have, "I should have seen him. Should have warned you," he tells you, slowly and methodically carrying you out of the alley, away from the carnage he created.

If your eyes were open, you'd see exactly how driven he was to get to you– how he left bodies broken and mangled in his one purpose of protecting you. Instead, all you notice is the familiar smell of leather and gunpowder radiating from him.

You shake your head, "Red–" You cut off your own words with a wince, hiding your face deeper into his neck as your whole body seems to pound with pain. You really just want to tug his mask off, to listen to the way his voice dips to a soothing tenor without the modulator, to watch the way his eyes linger on your face, but you're quick to push the notion away, to blame it on your jumbled thoughts.

You suck in a breath as the nausea passes, "You're not responsible for my mistakes." You sound weaker than you mean to, words more slurred than you'd like, but you hope you get your point across.

His breathing seems to stutter in his chest for a moment, and his fingers dip a little tighter into divots of your amour, "Feels like it, though. I hate seeing you get hurt like this."

The confession should be heavy, but it just makes heat bloom straight from your heart, makes you lightheaded in all the best ways. You don't hide the smile that threatens to take over your face, "Yeah. Me too. About you, I mean." You hope that he understands, even if your words aren't as poetic or eloquent as you want them to be, you hope he knows what you're trying to say.

The tension seems to drain from his body at your words, and he lowers his head to press his mask to the top of your head, the mirror of a kiss. Both of you go quiet, basking in each other's touch– the rise and fall of your chest– alive– as your pain finally fades into a dull ache.

Later, you'll protest being taken off of patrol for two weeks. Later, you'll complain that Jason gets to take out the Two-Face shipment you've been planning for weeks. But for now, he's warm. He's holding you close. And there's nowhere safer for you than his arms.

[geneviveleocardius]

“kiss, fuck, or kill—

price, ghost, or könig?”

you had no idea how a silly game during downtime could spiral into this. the question had been innocent enough: “kiss, fuck, or kill—price, ghost, or könig?” you’d laughed, brushing off the idea, but soap had insisted, his grin wicked as he leaned in, waiting for your answer. the others in the room chuckled, the atmosphere light and playful.

“fine,” you had relented, rolling your eyes but secretly enjoying the attention. “i’d kiss könig. he’s just… so sweet and adorable. i really like him.”

soap hooted with laughter while könig, sitting off to the side, froze mid-drink. you’d missed the way his ears turned crimson under his hood.

“fucking ghost, though,” you added, biting your lip without realizing it. “he’s so… hot. just looking at him turns me on.”

ghost, who had been leaning against the far wall, tilted his head slightly. you didn’t notice the way his dark eyes sharpened, a flicker of something dangerous crossing his gaze.

“and price?” soap asked, barely containing his laughter.

“oh, i’m killing price,” you said, laughing. “he’s like a father figure to me. no way i could think of him any other way.”

the room had erupted in laughter, soap practically crying with amusement. you thought that was the end of it.

you were wrong.

a few days later, you found yourself cornered in the dimly lit storage room. könig and ghost stood in front of you, both men radiating a heat that made your pulse race. you didn’t know how it happened, but the door was closed, and the air felt heavy, charged.

“so,” ghost started, his deep voice laced with amusement, “fuck me because i’m hot, yeah?”

your throat went dry, your eyes darting between them. könig’s hood hid most of his face, but his eyes were locked on you, intense and burning with something you couldn’t quite place.

“and what about me?” könig asked, his voice softer but no less filled with tension. “adorable? sweet? you like me?”

“i—” you stammered, taking a step back until your spine hit the wall.

ghost chuckled darkly, stepping closer. “you really thought that little game wouldn’t reach us?”

könig moved in as well, his massive frame towering over you. “we couldn’t stop thinking about it,” he murmured, his voice low and thick. “you choosing us… the way you said it.”

“and now,” ghost added, his gloved hand reaching out to brush your cheek, “we’re gonna give you exactly what you want.”

your breath hitched as könig’s hands found your waist, his touch gentle but firm. “so pretty,” he whispered, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips. it was slow, deliberate, as if he was savoring you. his hands slid up your sides, tracing your curves with reverence.

behind you, ghost’s body pressed close, trapping you between them. his hands gripped your hips, his fingers digging in hard enough to leave marks. “she likes it rough,” he muttered, his breath hot against your ear.

könig pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes filled with adoration. “tell me if it’s too much, schatz,” he said softly, his lips brushing yours as he spoke.

ghost chuckled darkly, his teeth grazing your shoulder. “she’s tougher than she looks. aren’t you, love?”

before you could respond, könig’s lips were on yours again, his kiss deep and consuming. his hands roamed your body, gentle yet possessive, while ghost’s hands moved to your thighs, pulling you back against him.

you felt ghost’s teeth sink into the curve of your neck, a low growl rumbling from his chest. “so good for us,” he murmured, his voice rough and filled with hunger.

könig’s kisses trailed down your jaw, his hands lifting your shirt to expose more of your skin. he pressed soft, worshipful kisses along your collarbone, his touch so tender it made your heart ache.

meanwhile, ghost’s grip on your hips tightened as he positioned you against him. “gonna mark you up, sweetheart,” he growled, his lips trailing hot kisses down the back of your neck. “everyone’s gonna know you’re ours.”

könig’s voice was a soothing counterpoint to ghost’s roughness. “you’re perfect,” he murmured, his lips pressing against your temple. “so beautiful. i’ll take care of you.”

your head spun as the two of them worked in tandem, ghost’s rough dominance balanced by könig’s soft, attentive care. you felt every kiss, every touch, every whispered word, and it was overwhelming in the best way.

“you said it yourself,” ghost murmured against your skin, his hands gripping your waist as he slammed against you. “..you want us.”

könig’s lips brushed yours again, his voice soft but firm. “and we want you, schatz. always.”

the hours blurred together, their attention leaving you trembling and breathless. ghost’s gruff dominance and könig’s tender care were a perfect storm, leaving you marked and utterly claimed. by the time they finally let you rest, you were sure of one thing—your little confession had changed everything.

and neither of them would let you forget it.

[aliceinborderlandsquidgame]

We meet again | In-ho x Fem!Reader | PT1

Summary: It was only one night for fun, you never thought you would see him again. Even less in a place like this one.

PT2

Warnings: S2 Spoilers - Canon violence - Pregnant!Reader - Non canon background for In-ho -

Na-eun -> Coworker - Use of (Y/N) - Angst - Suggestive -

Gif by: @el-cheung

The ocassions where In-ho could leave the island and get himself a drink with normal peopel in a normal bar were slim.

He liked to think of these as vacations of some sort. Even if it was in a lost town in the cost. He still avoided big cities.

The place was nice nothing fancy like he is used to. And that gave him a nostalgic feeling, made him feel like he was not that man, the one making sure the games went on. But another normal man enjoying a drink.

"Can I buy you a drink" A female voice broke his thoughts.

He took a look at his left side and felt his heart flutter, god did you look gorgeous, your hair kind of a mess but in a good way, not too revealing clothes, eyes to die for, that made him think you were piercing his soul, and your smile, it was like the sun.

He gave you a polite smile but refused, knowing it was better for both to not get involved.

Such a coward he was.

"Oh cmon handsome, just one drink and I will let you in peace" You insisted getting a funny look from the barman

"Dont scare my clients off (Y/N)" He called over his shoulder.

In-ho saw you pout at the barman, you were most likely from this town, a local. Someone with a boring life, maybe you worked with lifestock or had a small store. He could picture you having a flower shop.

"Sorry if I bothered you" You finally said feeling his lost of interest and going to take your own drink and get back to your friends who most likely would taunt you for getting rejected.

"Wait" In-ho said making you stop. He knew it was a bad idea but he could not help himself.

"What type of Man would let a girl pay? Let me buy you a drink" He finally said giving you a small smirk. "Im In-ho" He introduced himself when you took the seat besides him again.

"In-ho" You repeated, teasting his name in your tongue. It sent a shiver down his spine that he tried to ignore. "Well, im (Y/N) as you probably hear, pleasure to meet you, visting the town?"

In-ho signal for the barman bring two more drinks while he nodded at you. "You can say that..."

"And? Are you liking it so far?" You asked taking a sip from your drink keeping eye contact.

"The views are...quiet splendid" He responded not taking his eyes off from you.

~○~○~○~○~○~○

One drink made him feel more relaxed, he could talk without having to take his words under much consideration, the next one made his body feel hotter, specially when you would touch his arm or shoulder and laught at something he commented.

Most likely it was not that funny.

And drink after drink, it got you two closer, talking quietly like you two were exchanging deep secrets. Faces red, eyes open looking for something more.

"Do you wanna leave with me In-ho?" You asked in a whisper one hand on his chest.

Oh, he really wanted to. He wanted to end this night with you screaming his name over and over again. Maybe he would fuck you so good you would not even be able to forget about him.

"Aren't you too drunk?" He asked, always the gentlemen.

You just scoffed at him but did smile, feeling warm because of his worry, most men would jump at the offer.

But he was not like most men.

"Im fine, im sure about this. I want to leave this place with you"

In-ho payed for the drinks and left with you that night.

And just as he had planned he got you screaming his name till no end. Till you cried that it was too much but kept pulling him closer.

It was messy, it was long, sweat fell from your tangled bodies. It was as it you two were made for each other.

The next morning In-ho woke up first, he could not help but let out a soft smile, seeing your sleepy face, hair a mess, and the marks from last night.

He was temped for another round...

But his phone buzzed.

He groaned taking it already expecting problems.

"Sir..."

And just like that the dream ended. He had to leave you like that. Not a goodbye or a phone to call. You weren't his first night stand but you were the only one he felt bad leaving behind.

If he had time...he would have loved to take you to a proper date.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~

Part of you had hoped he would stay, at least to have breakfast with you. You had said you made the best in town.

But no, the bed was empy only his marks stood behind and the cum between your legs.

You tried to move on from it. Telling yourself it was good sex at the end. And that he would not even stay at the small town for much time.

Did it hurt ?

Like a knife passing your arm.

And things were going to get much, much worse.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

"Hey (Y/N) are you alright in there?" The voice of your worried coworker called from outside the bathroom stall.

You went to respond but feel another gag coming making you unable to.

"Im fine, just morning sickness" You finally said, breathing hard and sweating while getting out from the stall.

"Oh be honest, I have a sister you know? Who was pregnant recently" You coworker insisted getting close and gently giving your shoulder a squish. "You are not alone in this" She smiled gently.

You wanted to believe her, but the reality was not on your side.

Yes, everything is fine, you just have a baby whos father left after one night stand. The man never tried to contact you again or leave a fucking note. And you were so wasted you forgot the after day pill.

Fuck it all.

On top of that, you had to leave the small town after load sharks came looking for your brother who being an amazing brother left a debt, and since your parents were long dead and you were the only family left, the debt fell on you.

Which made you have to move from the small and calm town to Seoul, under the threats of the fuckers on making the town suffer if you did not pay.

Part of you believed they were too lazy to travel between the town and Seoul. But you did not want to put the place at risk so you left.

And now here you were, in a shit job in a hole that dared to call itself "bar", alone, with debt and barely doing any money for you. All went to pay the debt, part for the rent and other part to get the healthiest food you could get for you and your baby.

"Why dont you move in with me?" Your coworker suddendly asked, "We can divide the rent, you would get more money for you and the baby"

"Are you sure? I dont want to be a burden"

"Its fine, I would not offer it to you if I was not sure"

And you found yourself crying, over happines for the first time.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

In-ho had to get back to the Island for the next games. Things were moving in their place, getting players and new games. The classic "red light green light" needed to stay since it did clean off most players, the most weak ones in his opinion.

His mind would wonder to you. He had no idea why, after all you two did not know each other on a deep level. And yet he found himself repeating that night. Not only the sex, it was amazing, maybe the best he had in a long time. But also your confidence, how you had approach him first, then respectfully you tried to get away once he gave you a negative response at first.

He had a fair amount of insisting women and it made his skin crawl in disgust, but no. You were not like that.

And your eyes, and smile. In-ho thought he could let lost in these, he could stare at your eyes all day and night, watch you in the dark and just feel happy because he was with you.

Him, a respected and feared man, who had everything when it came to power. He found himself wanting you, by his side. Maybe he could get back to that town and look for you. Date you like a proper Man and maybe, just maybe you would return with him.

He knew he was being selfish, being with him would mean saying goodbye to a normal life. A quiet life you most likely had.

It was a inner battle, the wish to keep tabs on you, so he could properly approach you next time and have the upper hand. Also, there was a need to keep you safe. He was not sure why, he just felt it.

However, things were never that easy.

The phone from his office rang, he picked up with his mask on, his voice muffled by it.

"Sir, player 456 its causing problems outside"

In-ho let out a very long breath trying to collect his thoguhts.

"I will deal with him myself"

And like that, the ideas of going after you were pushed aside, he needed to fulfill his task as The Front Man first.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

You held the picture in your hands while you waited for the next train. Your baby, or well it was suppos to be your baby, you could not make much of the shapes but the Doctor had said it was healthy and that was enough for you.

"Hey little one" You whisper passing one finger over the photo not caring about the rest of the world right now.

But life seemed to like taunting you.

"Excusme Miss" A well dress Salesman talked to you his smile gentle yet kind ot intimidating. "Would you like to play a game with me?"

~○~○~○~○~○~○~

"What happened to you!!" The suprise scream from your coworker and now roomate filled your ears as you entered the small aparment.

"Nothing, dont worry about it" You tried to go pass her but she held you in place.

"Nothing? Your left cheeck its all red! Did someone attack you?"

"No, nothing like that. Please I dont really want to talk about it..."

Honestly you could not understand what had happen. You two played ddakji and you lost. In order to make up for it you got slapped. Lots of times you were about to leave but the Man would say something about money and motion to the photo you had. You were furious but kept playing till you won.

You got a card and a few wones, he said how he felt pity over you and to call the number on the card if you wanted to win more money.

The exchange was strange, bizarre, the only thing telling you it was real was the money you had in your pocket and the card.

"Put some ice on it" Na-eun told you going to get it herself. "Did you get the picture?" She screamed even if she was not that far away

"I did"

"Oh let me see!! I want to see my nephew!"

"Na-eun, i dont know the sex of the baby yet" You responded taking the ice and passing her the picture.

"Its a feeling, I can tell its going to be a boy"

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

Life was good for a few more weeks, as good as it could be in your current situation.

But saddly it did not last.

"What..."

"Im sorry (Y/N), my sister called me. She needs me at her home. I cant stay any longer in Seoul" She said between cries knowing you would have no one if she went away.

"Hey, dont cry. Its your sister, I understand" You said trying to reassure her that you would be alright but still...it was a hard pain to take.

"I will pay my part of the rent till next month but after that...she trailed off"

"Dont worry, I will find a way" You smiled at her trying not to worry.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

That same night you called the number on the card, knowing your life would just get harder and harder now that you were alone once more.

After saying your name and birth date you were told of a place to be on a specific day and time.

"Stay calm little one, we will be ok" You said caressing your growing belly. "Mom will take care of everything"

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

The next thing you knew you woke up in what seemed to be a big room with multiple beds. It was cold, your old clothes were replaced by what resembled a sports suit. The number "344" adorned your chest.

The peopel around you seemed as confused and lost as you were. Fear started to creep inside you, maybe you screw up? Maybe this was human traffic? What would happen to you? And your baby?

You saw another female player who seemed just as lost as you and...wait it could not be.

Was she also pregnant?

Thinking you had nothing to lose you went near her. Not too sure what to say at first.

"Hello, you dont happen to know whats going on?" You asked knowing the answer but looking to make small chat.

She looked back at you then at your lower belly, the confliction in her eyes was clear as day.

"No I dont, how..how long are you due?" She asked nervously but also feeling better that there was someone else in the same situation as her.

You smiled, "A few more months, you?" She responded making your smile bigger. "Looks like we are in the same boat, player 222" You said seeing her number "Want to, stick together till we know whats happening?"

And like that, you made your first friend inside the games.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

After the long introduction the pink guards gave to all of you, they guided the group around a maze of colorfull stairs, you looked over player 222 making sure she was alright, you had to make small stops yourself. Behind you stood a player, 456 who seemed to notice your state and did not mention a thing, if nothing his face seemed to pale at it.

The guards finally left all of you in a big area, up front was a doll and a white line. Your mind went to think on the words from the guards, this was a kids game, it should be easy right?

"Hey 222, stick with me" You called a bit worried over her and you. If this game included running then it would be a challenge for you and her.

But you could do it, you had to do it.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

The splash of blood on your face made you want to vomit, move and run away. But the screams from player 456 stopped you. Reminding you that if the doll dectected movement then you would be shot.

"It cant see on your blind stops" He screamed moving his hand behind his back to show all of you. "Make a line, short ones behind tall ones, we will move together"

You gulped but did as he said getting behind a player with the number 390, who also noticed your state and looked worried.

"Im fine" You assured him stopping when the doll also stopped singing.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

Like any other year In-ho stood in his room seeing the first game, a glass of whisky being his only company.

He could not see the faces of all players, too focus in Gi-hun and his attempt to save everybody. However, years of being a detective and watching this game made him have a critical eye, he saw two, two pregnant woman in the game, struggling but not giving up. He felt a tug in his heart, he knew this was to make games more interesting, to have players of all ages and circumstances, but even him, someone who was once part of them could not shake the uncomfortable feeling.

"It cant be" He whispered seeing you move, something from you called him, like he knew you. But that could not be right? You were in that town, safe, living your life.

How wrong he was.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~

Once the game was over the need to vomit returned stronger, you held it back not wanting to bring attention over you.

Both player 456 (who he presented as Seong Gi-hun, and player 390 (who said his name was Jung-Bae) went to you. Asking if you were alright or needed anything, even if Gi-hun knew he could not get you a single thing.

"Im ok, I will survive, Thanks for your directions during the game Seong" You thanked the Man who nodded

"You can call me Gi-hun"

"344!!, 344!!" The screams of 222 filled your ears, you turned to see her and hugged her.

"Oh I was so worried over you, over both of you" You added quietly

"I lost you in the crowd...You are fine?"

You made a face, honestly the situation was far from fine but you needed to be strong.

"I will make it, will you tell me your name now?"

"Its Jun-hee" she responded in a low tone.

"(Y/N)" You pointed at yourself then at your belly "Little one"

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

Voting. You could vote to be out and walk with some money. In all honestly it did not cover your debt at all. But you prefer walking out alive, able to raise your baby than getting both dead.

"I will help all of you" The voice of Gi-hun cut off your thoughts, a small circle with him, his friend and Jun-hee was formed "Just help me to stop these games, peopel will keep dying if not"

"Im in" You said to him who nodded back.

The voting was thight, you had to held onto Jun-hee arm to not fall because of how nervous you were. Jung-Bae tried to calm both of you, saying most likely the Xs would win.

But it was a tie, a tie and only one player. Player 001 was going to break off. You did not see his face only his back, he took a moment to decide.

He pressed circle, the games will continue. And when he turned around you felt your soul leave your body.

It was him, In-ho the man who you had one night stand and left you pregnant with no way of contacting him.

The same man who's final vote would force you to continue playing.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

The dinner was....bad. That was the only word for it. You forced yourself to eat thinking in your baby, Jung-Bae was kind enough to give you his milk, you decided to divide it with Jun-hee who was also gratefull.

When circle players came, asking Gi-hun about next game you wanted to pull their eyes out. They were using him, like a secret card to win. But Gi-hun seemed unbothered, he said what the next game was and even told them that he would share it with everybody.

Some walked away angry, and giving Jun-hee and you some nasty looks, guess no one wanted two pregnant woman around.

"Ignore them" Dae-ho another player who had voted X and kind of formed a small friendship with Jung-Bae said to Jun-hee and You.

"Can we talk?" The voice of player 001 came as a suprise to all of you, but the suprise was bigger when they noticed he was talking directly to you.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

Both of you walked away from the group needing privacy from them.

"What are you doing here?" In-ho asked taking your arms. The last person he would bet being here was you. You looked fine when he last saw you, not like a person who would be in debt. Besides you were from a small town, the organization moved between big cities.

Just...what had happen?

"Hello (Y/N) How are you doing? Or did you also forget my name too?" You responded too angry, confused and stressed.

He pressed his lips in a thin line to calm himself down. No, he could never forget your name. You filled his dreams every night, he did promise to himself he would go back to you once this games were over.

He never expected or wished that you would came to him, to this place.

"You cant be here" It was more like to negate himslef the fact that you were indeed here. "Its too dangerous for you and your baby" The last was said so softly it almost made you feel bad.

Almost.

"Well, thank you for making all of us play another round" You responded going to get away from him but he held you in place.

"I was not the only one who voted to stay"

"No, you were not" you did give him the reason "But your vote was the one that broke the tie. Sorry if I feel inclined to be angry at you.

In-ho gulped, no you were right to be angry, specially since you were not only fighting for your life but the baby in your belly.

"The baby..." He trailed off, the question clear but he found himself scared to say it out loud.

You took a long deep breath, you had imagined finding him and telling him about the baby, you never pictured it would be like this. But luck was never on your side.

"Yes, its yours. I wanted to tell you, but you ran away and left me no way of contacting you" A small pause to get your words together "Listen, I wont ask anything from you, we had a good time and thats it"

No. No he could not ignore it. First, you plagued his nights and days, making him feel like he was young again and having his first crush. Then you appear here, pregnant with his baby no less.

How could he ignore it? When a family with you was one of the many dreams he had. Even if it was like he was going too quick, thinking too fast when you two only shared a night.

"No, listen. Im sorry for leaving like that, I dont expect you to forgive me or understand me" He could not tell you why he had left, why he never contacted you. "But I promise I will take care of both of you. No harm will be done to you or to our baby"

Hearing him say "our baby" made you want to cry but you did not know he was able to protect you, to you he was just another player.

"Dont make promises you cant keep. And dont worry I have managed fine this last months" You said leaving him behind and returning to the group that were not so casually looking at the exchange.

Once you made it back you went directly to your bed, needing to rest just for a bit.

"Who was he?" Jun-hee asked softly

"No one, he is no one"

Jun-hee had a feeling about who he was but decided to be silent out of respect.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

In-ho saw you go, his hand moving to fists by his side. He wanted nothing but to have you moved out from the games. Maybe you could stay in his room till all ended. You would be well taken care of, would make sure the most trusted Doctor of the island checked on you and his baby.

A baby, a life. Something he had made on accident but did not mean he did not want it. No, he did. He could see you, him and the baby, the three of you living together, he would teach his kid so much and love you till death.

Was he becoming obsess? Maybe.

Did he care? No.

He would do whateve he could to keep you and his kid safe.

[bruhstories]

Bet I

p.2 here

summary: in-ho got a cat, and he needs a cat sitter while he is away on his business trip. who knew that meeting you would turn into a bet, a philosophy of what is moral and what is not?

pairing: hwang in-ho/the front man x civilian!reader

warnings & content: age gap, afab!reader, slightly detailed descriptions of reader's background for plot purposes, red text for in-ho, purple for reader, few mentions of Y/N (again, for plot purposes), pre 33rd squid game, canon divergent

w/c: 2.2k

a/n: i have no idea how many chapters this will have, but i'm trying to write each chapter for each day of the games. it'll all make sense at the end lol. i tried to do as much research about seoul and south korea in general, so please be gentle! i'm just an eastern european gal

tagging: @full-sunnies @xodilfluvr

In-ho got a cat — a green-eyed, silver-tipped Korat he named Eunjoo. He thought about getting a dog, but dogs were high-maintenance, loyal and loving, and his job didn't allow him a loving pet. It didn't allow him to get attached to humans or animals. But Eunjoo was aloof and independent, and only rubbed against his leg when she wanted food. She refused to be handled and rarely played with the toys In-ho got her, but the cat was a necessary soul in his empty penthouse. It still wasn't enough to fill the hole in his blackened heart, but it was better than coming home to nothing and no one.

Trouble came when In-ho had to leave for eight days for the 32nd Squid Game. He quite obviously couldn't bring Eunjoo with him, and he couldn't let her starve, either. Not only that, but her litter boxes had to be cleaned regularly, and she needed fresh water daily, which left him with only one option — getting a cat sitter, as stupid as that sounded. In-ho felt ridiculous typing the post on a website for dog-walkers and pet sitters, but he did it nonetheless.

Businessman going on an eight day trip. In need of an experienced person to do home visits twice a day for my Eunjoo. 30,000 won per day. Based in Gangnam-gu, Seoul. 

He attached a picture of the cat along with his email, and waited. There was enough time to select a sitter before he left, and he browsed several profiles of pet sitters. Most of them had fantastic reviews, but asked for more money. Typical, In-ho thought. How typical for people to ask for more than necessary. It wasn't as though he wasn't willing to pay more — he had enough money, and would gladly spend it on Eunjoo — but it was the greed that disgusted him. The audacity to ask for 70,000 won a day to feed a cat and change her water was insane.

In-ho closed his laptop and left it on his coffee table in the living room, then walked into the kitchen to feed Eunjoo. She came from her hideout at the sound of a can opening, cautious of her surroundings, then rubbed her head against In-ho's leg, patiently waiting for her food. The cat didn't immediately eat. Instead, Eunjoo waited for her owner to sit down and have his dinner, and the corners of his mouth turned into a half-smile. Better than most people, In-ho thought. She wasn't greedy, she was understanding in ways some humans couldn't be. And so, he reheated yesterday's bulgogi and sat down with a side of freshly cooked rice. Only then did Eunjoo eat her dinner, checking on him from time to time to make sure he was also eating.

Ding!

His phone lit up with a notification. In-ho unlocked it and opened the email he had just received from a pet sitter.

Good evening, sir! My name is Y/L/N Y/N and I would like to meet Eunjoo. I live in Guryong Village and can take the bus to Gangnam-gu whenever you need me to, as I am quite flexible with my schedule, but I need to be completely transparent with you. I've only taken care of my cousin's cat over summer, so I am not the experienced sitter you are looking for, but I am asking you to please give me a chance. Have a good evening!

In-ho scoffed at the words on his screen. He was specifically looking for someone with experience, but he appreciated the honesty. It was a rare trait nowadays, and he was a fair man who gave everyone equal chances. It was the root of his job, after all.

Tomorrow morning, 9 o'clock, Bongeunsa-ro 103-gil, across the street from Shinhan Bank. I'll pick you up from downstairs. Don't be late.

The clack of your heels irked you as you hurried down the street from the bus stop to the address provided by the cat owner. It was a sound you weren't used to, but you needed to make a good impression when lacking experience. People all around you were dressed in expensive suits and dresses, clothes you could only dream of wearing, and the cars that swerved across your path, nearly running you over, looked like they cost as much as your house. It wasn't the first time you walked around Gangnam-gu, but it was the first time you spent more than five minutes surrounded by people who lived lavishly while you survived on Samyang Hot Chicken Ramen Stew.

And yet, you wouldn't trade your instant noodles for samgyeopsal or bossam if it meant selling your soul. Because that was the price to pay for riches and luxury, wasn't it? No, you would make ends meet somehow and live an honest life without becoming a coldhearted monster, just like your father taught you.

You checked that the address in the email matched your location, and waited for someone to talk to you, unsure how they would even recognise you. Although, on second thought, the thin, flimsy cotton of your dress and loose threads around the hem were a dead giveaway that you didn't belong in Gangnam-gu. You didn’t belong amongst the rich.

"Excuse me, Miss Y/L/N?"

Turning on your heels, you were met by the darkest eyes you had ever seen, eyes that looked as though they had both witnessed and committed unspeakable atrocities. And yet, there was a strange remorse in them. The man looked around 45 years old but not a single gray hair on his head, which was ironic, because you probably had more white strands hidden in your locks. Your gaze darted down at his extended hand, and you shook it while bowing down as a sign of respect. 

"You must be Mr. Hwang. I can't thank you enough for agreeing to meet with me. I promise I won't let you down if you give me a chance!"

Oh, you were a talker. In-ho had met your kind before, aimlessly sleepwalking through life, serving no greater purpose except for entertaining those who rid the world of gamblers, addicts, beggars and thieves. Not that you were in any of those categories — In-ho didn't know you that well yet — but the way you presented yourself made him think you would have made a suitable player in the game.It was too late to recruit you now. Perhaps next year, if you made it that far.

You followed Mr. Hwang into the elevator, surprised that it wasn't stopping until reaching the last floor of the building, and when the doors opened, they revealed a small hallway with just one apartment. He had no neighbours above or around him, and you couldn’t begin to imagine how lonely it must've been. Surely his wife or girlfriend kept him company, or perhaps he had children — In-ho did look old enough to be your father.

He unlocked the multiple locks on his door — he must have been really rich — and invited you in. For a moment, a split second, you wondered if you had made a mistake coming there. The man could be a serial killer for all you knew, and with almost no neighbours, who would even hear you scream? You heard stories about wealthy people who took pleasure in hurting others. The lack of pictures of a wife or children only strengthened that doubt, but the intrusive thought soon dissipated when, from the corner of your eye, you spotted a silver tail hanging from a dining chair. 

Paying no mind to the tall double fridge, or the black U shaped velvet sofa that could fit your entire extended family, or even the view from his floor-to-ceiling windows, you kicked off the uncomfortable heels and got down on all fours, crawling closer to Eunjoo before sitting on the tiled floor with your legs crossed. It caught In-ho completely off guard — unpredictability was something that bothered him. Usually when he brought girls over they would bombard him with a million questions about his job, his car, his clothes, his bank account. You didn't, and it both infuriated and intrigued him. But then again, he brought you there with a different purpose.

"What are you doing exactly?" In-ho circled around you like a hawk, watching you intently. 

"I've read that it's better to allow cats to familiarise themselves with people instead of forcing affection onto them." You sat still, chin tilted upwards to look at him with innocence in your eyes. "I may not be experienced, sir, but I did my research."

He wasn't particularly impressed by your research skills, not even when Eunjoo jumped from the chair and walked around you, curious yet apprehensive. One paw hovered above the floor in mid-air, and her tail was lowered, almost touching the ground, as the cat slowly and cautiously approached you, sniffing the hand you extended. 

"So, what do you do for a living?" You broke the spell, not on Eunjoo but on In-ho, who was watching you try to befriend his cat. He hadn't realised he had been staring for longer than he should have until you spoke with disinterest in your voice. You didn't really care what his job was.

"Business." He simply said and you chuckled at his response. "Something funny?"

"I'm sorry, I just thought it would be nice to make small talk while we wait for Eunjoo to get comfortable." You shrugged. "But it's fine if you don't want to talk about that, sir."

Sir. It sounded so different coming from you and not one of his subordinates at the facility. In-ho quietly pulled a chair from under the table and sat down, but Eunjoo had finished inspecting you. She lifted her tail, the tip curled — a sign of playfulness — and you scratched her chin.

"Good girl, Eunjoo! I'm sorry, I don't have any treats." You sat up after the cat lost interest in you and hid behind the sofa.

"So you're inexperienced and unprepared." His voice was cold and judgemental and you lowered your head in shame.

"I'm really sorry, sir. I don't have a great financial situation, that's why I need this job. I can water plants and clean the house, I can even do your laundry and iron your shirts, and I don't want any extra money, just the payment for cat sitting." You sounded so desperate it was pathetic. "Please."

The last bit of your sentence was what caught In-ho's attention. No extra money? Who in their right minds wouldn’t charge more for additional services? Were you planning on stealing from him while he was away? Not that it mattered — he'd find you and kill you upon his return from the island if you did. However, he found it to be an interesting game, a bet of sorts. You would win if you were honest for all eight days. He would win if you stole from him and abused his kindness.

"You're hired." In-ho nodded, the look of surprise mixed with gratitude on your face making him feel like some sort of god.

"I swear you won't be disappointed in me, sir. I'll leave the house spotless every day, and I will take good care of Eunjoo!" You nodded eagerly, beaming at him.

"I know you will. She takes breakfast at 7 and dinner at 9, and there is an automatic feeder set at 2 pm for lunch." He explained and you took your phone out to quickly take notes. "Make sure you change her water in the morning and at night, and scoop her litter boxes every time you're here."

"...scoop the poop twice a day. Got it." You mumbled while typing. "Do I give her wet food in the mornings and evenings?"

"Yes, and please check that the automatic feeder is stocked. You will find all her cans and kibble in this cupboard." In-ho walked into the kitchen and showed you where Eunjoo's food was. There was more cat food in that cupboard than you had in your house.

"Perfect. Where is the bin room located?"

"Underground. The code is 456654."

"Thank you, Mr. Hwang! I won't let you down. Oh, I should give you my phone number, right?" You asked, feeling a bit awkward for being so straightforward. 

"Whatever would I need your number for?" He almost laughed. 

"How else would you see Eunjoo?"

"Right. Forgot about that." In-ho scratched the back of his head. He couldn't exactly tell you that there were cameras everywhere in his house.

"Two more questions. Am I allowed to play music or movies on your TV and could I take a shower after cleaning? I'm bringing spare clothes and my own towel and soap."

"Yes, of course you can. Please help yourself to anything you need. I trust you'll figure out how the coffee machine or dishwasher work." He nodded. 

"Yeah, I'll figure it out." You lied. You had never used a dishwasher before.

"Great. I leave in three days. Please be here the day after my departure. Here's the spare key."

"Thank you, sir!" You bowed and walked to the door to put your shoes back on. "Good luck on your trip!"

"Thank you, miss. Good luck to you, too." 

The bet was placed, the game was on.

[fl3shm4id3n]

ɴᴏ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ɢᴀᴍᴇꜱ

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬, 𝐭𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐨 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞, 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐬. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐦, 𝐡𝐞'𝐝 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐲 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐟 𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝. 𝐀𝐬 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐭, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫. 𝐀𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ᴛʜᴀɴᴏꜱ (ᴄʜᴏɪ ꜱᴇᴜɴɢ-ʜʏᴜɴ) x ꜰᴇᴍ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ꜱᴏɴɢ: ᴅᴏᴊᴀ ᴄᴀᴛ - ᴍᴀꜱᴄ (ꜰᴛ. ᴛᴇᴇᴢᴏ ᴛᴏᴜᴄʜᴅᴏᴡɴ)

Tw: Squid Game 2 SPOILERS, Smut, toxic relationship, overthinking, talks about death, blood, swearing, morning after kinda, kissing/making out, eating out, bathroom sex, somewhat mirror sex, unprotected sex (if you're gonna get silly, wrap your willy), titty grabbing/nipple pinching, reader has the implant, pussy drunk/high? Thanos.

A/n: This is gonna be the final part of the mini series :(, but I'ma write more later. (Unless I should be a fourth part where Thanos dies and Reader gets screwed by Nam Gyu :P). P.S. Sorry that it's short :(

Masterlist

ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴏ ᴀɴʏ ꜰᴜʀᴛʜᴇʀ, ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴꜱꜰᴡ/ꜱᴍᴜᴛ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ, ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡɪꜱʜ ᴛᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴀᴅ, ꜱᴋᴇᴅᴀᴅᴅʟᴇ, ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡɪꜱʜ ᴛᴏ ᴘʀᴏᴄᴇᴇᴅ, ᴛʜᴇɴ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ʀɪꜱᴋ.

That day you woke up due to that loud song that played and lights on. The song was already getting on your nerves. You had been lying on your left side. You felt something heavy on your waist and a warm presence pressed behind you. Slowly you opened your eyes and saw what it was. It was Thanos arm, he was still sleep next to you. It didn't bother you or think much of it, until you moved and felt something off under the covers. You lifted the blanket up, then saw that your pants and panties were off. Shit! You thought, you moved Thanos arm away from your waist, making him groan in his sleep and went under the thin cover. Quickly you put on your panties and pants on as fast as you could before anyone could notice you.

You felt how someone had lifted your blanket, right as you pulled your pants up to your waist. It was Thanos with a cocky smirk. "Morning beautiful." He said, he then got under the blanket with you. Proceeding to kiss on the lips. Hungrily and messy. It took you by surprise but you kissed him back. Well, attempted to kiss him back. But his tongue was already rubbing against yours. Mixing your saliva together like many times. He was like an animal, a rabbit possessed by his heat. You then felt how his hand quickly went under your sweater and shirt, running his hand through your skin until he reached your breast. Giving it a good squeeze, making you gasp around his lips.

"Thanos!" you said, as you pulled away from his lip. That didn't stop him. He went straight to your neck, kissing and nibbling, still grabbing and squeeze your breast. You moaned softly and quietly. "Thanos! We're gonna get caught!" You tried to warn. "Who care at this point. Everyone should know by now that you're mine." He teasingly growled against your ear, as he continued to bite and kiss, while squeezing your breast. Proceeding to pinch your erect nipple. You couldn't help but enjoy it. This turned you on in many ways, specially the idea of getting caught in the moment. It's never truly happen, but the adrenaline kicked in every time you and Thanos would perform those acts in a public place.

"HAYO!" Someone yelled as they pulled away the blanket from both you and Thanos. You hid your face against Thanos shoulder, not wanting to face the person who had just done that. "Oh? Getting down and dirty early in the morning?" It was Nam Gyu, who asked so mockingly. Thanos glared at his friend, obviously pissed by the interruption done by his underling. "Do you mind ass face?" Thanos told him annoyed, but Nam Gyu simply laughed. "I was just fucking withya bro. I'll let ya'll continue, unless you let me watch." He said, while wiggling his eyebrows at the two of you. You then moved away from Thanos and got up. "I have to go to the bathroom, before the game. I'll back." You said, walking away from your bed to go to the bath. As the two of them watch you leave. Thanos then looked at his friend and kicked his leg. "Nice going asshole." He hissed at him, while Nam Gyu just rolled his eyes.

Once again, you were in the bathroom. Taking care of business, once done. You went over and washed your hands. When you finished, you splashed the cold water onto your face and rubbed your eyes a bit. To wake up. You weren't a huge morning person, but you've managed to get up and start your day. You wished you could sleep more, but you couldn't. As soon as you get home, you'll lay in bed for the rest of the week, if not month. You were so tired. These games were stressing you the fuck out.

Then the door opened, of course. It was the one and only Thanos that had come in. Who had a goofy smile on his face. "Hey babygirl." He said, walking over and leaned his body against the minty green tiles, next to the pink sink that you had been washing your hands and face on. "How do they keep letting you in here, this is the girl's bathroom." You reminded him. "Pfft, you think they care? I doubt it, plus." He paused, walking over to you. Now standing behind you, he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close to him. Your back was pressed against his muscular chest. "I wanted to finish what we started." He whispered next to your right ear. Making a shiver run down your spine.

You let out a breathy sigh. "You're like a rabbit in heat, I swear." You commented, Thanos only smirked, then he turned you around to face you. "Last time I remembered, your favorite animals are rabbits." He said, while looking down at you, deep into your eyes. You weren't sure if he was high or not. You didn't care at this point. "Well, you're right." You responded, you felt how Thanos hand gently grabbed your chin and cheeks, softly squeezing them together, making your lips pout. He then leaned forward and kissed your lips. It was a hard yet soft kiss. You kissed him back. The kiss was possessive yet loving. It felt like the first time you and him kissed. Very passionate and loving.

As you both kissed, you ran your hands up his shirt. Your fingers touching and caressing his fit body. You caressed his ribs, then your fingers and hands moved to his back. Feeling his strong back, you could still feel the scratches from last night and the previous time. He then pulled away from the kiss, leaving your breathless like many times before. He unzipped and took off his jacket, then came his shirt. You couldn't help but stare at his chest and abs, they look exactly the same. Without a warning, Thanos picked you up and sat you down onto on the edge of the pink sink. He processed to take off your white vans off, then followed by your pants and panties. Then spread your legs as he got on his knees.

He smirked, seen how wet you've become already. He loved it. He carefully laid your back onto the mirror while your lower back was slightly touching the faucet. Thanos placed your thighs over his shoulders again, and processed to devour you. You whine and threw your head back against the mirror. Feeling his tongue inside you, hitting almost every spongy surface he could, while his nose rubbed against your now sensitive clit. After a few licks, he pulled away and processed to suck solely on your clit. Making you whine, even louder. You then processed to grind your hips against his mouth. As you began to move, Thanos went back to tongue fucking you.

"Thanos!" You moaned loud enough to make the walls of the bathroom to echo. As Thanos continued his assault, you lifted your shirt up, then popped your breasts out of your bralette. Beginning to squeeze your own breasts, plus pinching your nipples. This brought you back. That one time you went with Thanos to record a music video, you had sex in the dressing room before filming. He had you lying on the vanity, with your back against the the mirror, eating you out like the animal that he was.

You felt your body flinch when you felt him lick the sweet spot inside you. "Awe! Fuck!" You gasped, as you pinched your nipples slightly harder by that electrical like feeling. You were close, he knew you were close. Instead of stopping, he kept going. He snarled and growled like an animal, desperately trying to get you to cum. Your body contorted and arched itself in pleasure. Your breathing quickened, you felt out of breath, your body was heating up and you were over the edge. Not once did Thanos stopped, he just kept going. Licking and sucking your clit non stop. "T-Thanos!" You called out his name, but he didn't stop. Until your orgasm hit your body like a bus, having you seeing stars. You had let out about the loudest of screams, the guard outside probably heard you.

As you recovered from your orgasm, Thanos got up from his somewhat sore knees. He took out his cock, then carefully and easily slipped inside you. Making you moan again, you were still sensitive from a couple minutes ago, but you didn't care. You wanted this, you needed this. Again, he placed your ankles over his shoulders, beginning to thrust slowly yet harshly. He closed his eyes and bit his bottom lip as he thrusted. He groaned, feeling how you were still tight, after two nights of sex. Your pussy was addicting to him. If you were a drug, he'd have no problem taking you as much as he could.

His pace went faster by the minute, you wrapped your arms around his neck. Pulling him closer as he gripped onto the sink tightly, as is his life depended on it. You gasped when you felt his angry tip hitting your G-spot. "Fuck! I! Love! You!" He growled, as he drooled. "You're the love! Of my fucking! Life!" He claimed as he thrusted even harder, at this point he was plowing into you. He then licked his middle and ring ringer, beginning to rub your clit. Fast, just like his pace. Making you whine and arch your neck backwards. "Fuck! Thanos!" You moaned, screwing your eyes shut. You felt tears welling up in your eyes and rolling down your cheeks. Not from sadness but from pleasure.

This felt like your first time all over again, he was your first time. At first you were a bit embarrassed that you were still a virgin at that age, but Thanos? He didn't mind. He made it special. It felt that way, it was that way. Except, instead of doing it in his bedroom, it was this bathroom. As you continued down memory lane, Thanos kissed your lips again, traces of your orgasm still lingered in his tongue. You didn't mind, you kissed him back, slowly going weak by each thrust. You both continued to kiss, until Thanos came inside you again. Making you both moan against each other's lips. Except, his moan sounded more of a growl like groan than a moan.

You remained frozen, and so did Thanos. Both of you were panting, sweaty and hot. Your hair stuck to your forehead and side of your face. Thanos turned to look at you, giving your sweaty forehead a loving kiss, making you close your eyes. Before leaning his own, sweaty forehead against yours. "I love you." He said, more calmly and out of breath. You responded, breathless. "I love you too." You said, as you panted softly. "No more games." You said, still tired and defeated. "No more games, I promise." H e responded, as he gave you a kiss on the lips. "You better." You finished against his lips. Kissing him back.

ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ ᴘᴀʀᴛ

[robo-writing]

So that idea you had with 70s Logan being selfish while eating you out... could we get an expansion?

*cracks knuckles* let’s get into it

Logan loves pussy, short and sweet. His problem is that he loves it a little too much.

It makes for a great time with whatever lucky lady he’s got in his bed (or the couch. Or the kitchen.) but it also means that it’s going to be quite a while before he tires himself, if that even happens. Where his younger self differs is that he’s firmly rooted in his “I don’t need meaningful relationships” attitude so if he’s bringing someone to bed, it’s for one thing and one thing only.

He’s got an urge to satisfy, and you just so happened to be the nearest thing around.

That isn’t to say he’s a total asshole; he tells you up front not to expect anything more than what he’s offering, and if you don’t take his advice? That’s all on you. His deal is a simple one, take it or leave it.

Now, assuming you accept, you’ll be happy to know that he can talk the talk and walk the walk—that is to say, he’ll have your legs shaking within the first five minutes guaranteed. Something about his enthusiasm is half the show, the other half is how adamant he is about keeping his lips glued to your pussy.

Over and over again you cum—your weeping cunt crying out against his fingers, his smug grin as you beg him for a break—only to be met with the sounds of his tongue flicking at your clit. Your hands tug at his hair, begging him to stop, trying your damndest to wiggle free from his iron hold but he doesn’t budge in the slightest. If anything at all your movement just annoys him further, and in turn, makes him take out his anger on your sensitive cunt.

“Stop fucking movin’” he muffles against your sex, but it’s easier said than done. Even when you slap against his arms he doesn’t flinch, instead opting to glare at you from below while his fingers scissor you open.

“Stop being fuckin’ difficult—“ he starts, growling out when tears start streaming down your face. It’s immediately met with a slap to your puffy cunt, the shock of it sending you reeling forward.“Don’t whine, you asked for this.”

You want to argue, tell him you asked for a one night stand and not a torture session—unfortunately for you, your brain cells leak from your ears every time his beard scratches between your thighs.

And then, somewhere between the long-drawn out agony of your nerves being lit on fire is the smallest ember of pleasure. An echo, and then a roar, a spark that turns into a roaring fire and then something just clicks.

All of a sudden you’re going from stop, Logan, I can’t to yes, more, please between what little semblance of sanity you can muster.

The sudden change in attitude makes him grin. “Told you you’d enjoy yourself.”

[seungfl0wer]

*𝓐𝓷𝓰𝓮𝓵 𝓞𝓻 𝓓𝓮𝓿𝓲𝓵?*

Pairing: Felix x Reader (Fem)

Genre: Smut

Warning: Dom?Felix, Degrading, Choking, Hair Pulling, Hand Cuffs/Vibrator used, Face Fucking/Oral(M), Overstimulation(F), Slight smacking (Not in the face), Unprotected sex, Creampie, Multiple Orgasms, Finger sucking. Sorry for any mistakes or missing warnings.

A/N: ah I’m so happy to finally get this written. Uugh. I’ve had this idea since Halloween! I hope you enjoy it!

-🩵

Halloween was right around the corner and that meant costumes. You had asked your boyfriend if he wanted to do matching ones and of course he loved the idea. After brain storming you thought about doing a devil and angel outfit.

“Lixie how about devil and angel?” You asked him scrolling on your phone.

“Sounds good love.” He said smiling beside you.

“I gotta find a cute angel costume for you” you said.

“You’re not gonna be the angel?” He asked tilting his head a bit.

“Felix, you’re literally called an angel. Besides you’re too nice to be a devil” you said teasingly.

He hummed in response but his brain was swirling with other ideas.

The day went on as normal, felix still in his head about your comment. He wanted to show you how wrong you were. So he devised a plan.

“Love” he said sweetly.

You hummed in response.

“Come here” he said calling you to the bedroom.

When you entered he gestured you to sit. “What’s up lix?” You asked a bit confused.

“You know the light system red meaning stop, green is good, yellow slow down or a break?” He said with that same sweet tone.

You nodded wondering what he was getting at.

“Good” he said simply before pushing your body to the bed. He grabbed a pair of handcuffs from the drawer slipping them on your wrists. He attached them to the head posts without saying a word. When he moved to your side the look in his eyes was something you’ve never seen before. Especially from him. His eyes looked dark, jaw clenching as he stared down at you like you were prey.

His hand slipped under your chin holding your face in place. “I’ll show you how wrong you are Angel” he said with a wicked grin. He came around the bed pulling your pants and panties down. “Look at that, what a little slut we have here. Already soaked for me.” He said his hand coming down to slightly slap against your cunt. The action making your body jolt. It didn’t hurt, the slight pain making you even more turned on.

He let out a chuckle before grabbing something else from the stand beside the bed. He grabbed your small bullet turning it on before sticking it to your clit. The vibrations making you moan out bucking your hips for more. He let the bullet lay on your clit the feeling only slightly there now. His hands ran up your body playing with your breast before pinching at the sensitive nubs.

He moved the same hand back down your body before pushing his fingers into you slowly. God was he going so slow.

“Lix” you whined out.

“Hm?” He hummed.

“N-need more please” you cried out.

“More? How ungrateful. You’ll take what I give you” his voice deep. The way his eyes looked up at you said not to speak, so you kept your mouth shut.

He kept the same pace slowly pushing his fingers in and out of you. His thumb once in a while brushing the bullet making it feel stronger. “You’re dripping all over me, making such a mess” he said before pulling his hand from you. He brought his slick soaked fingers to you “you made the mess now clean it” he growled pushing his fingers into your mouth.

You happily sucked them off looking up at him with puppy eyes, trying to butter him up. Pulling his fingers for you with a pop the grin he had made a chill go up your spine. He dropped his pants quickly stroking his cock as he looked at you. “Open that dirty mouth of yours for me hmm? Gonna put it to some good use” he said before getting on top of you. His strong legs on either side of you as your back was against the headrest. He pressed his tip to your lips smacking against them slightly. “Open” he growled.

You did as you were told opening wide to take his long cock. He wasted no time before pushing in fully his cock hitting the back of your throat. He groaned out head falling backwards before he grabbed your head. He gripped your hair harshly as he fucked into your mouth relentlessly. “Fuck- that’s it- take my fucking cock- that’s what this dirty mouth of yours is good for” he growled.

You felt tears pricking at your eyes, the bullet still agonizingly slowly going. You felt almost embarrassed to say how hot everything was. The way he was talking to you, the way he was just using you as he pleased. Fuck it was to keep you on the edge of an orgasm.

Felix gripped your hair harshly once more pulling your head back only to push back into your mouth. His balls slapped against your face as you felt his release coming. You could feel his leg muscles tensing as he came. Making sure to push as far back as possible. “Don’t- you-“ he breathed heavily. “Waste a single drop”

When he pulled out he watched as you swallowed very drop. “Good girl” he said with a grin. He repositioned himself at your entrance, taking the bullet and turning it on high. He held it to your clit “color” he said looking up at you.

“G-green” you whimpered out. That’s all he needed before slamming into your dripping cunt. His hand let go of the bullet but how he was positioned it still was pressed against you. He was moving fast in and out of you, his cock head hitting your cervix.

His hand came down slapping against your breast before he pinched at your rosy nipples. “Still so fucking wet for me, such a good little slut you are. Ready for me to use at any moment.” He grunted. He repositioned himself once more putting you in a matting press. Legs pressed against your chest as he pounded into you. Your cunt clenched around him as your orgasms was close.

“Gonna cum aren’t you?” He said.

“Yes- please lix- can I cum?” You whined.

“Since you asked so nicely you may.” He grinned knowing you’d be even more sensitive after.

You came quickly after cumming hard around his cock. His hand laced around your neck squeezing it, breaking your chain of moans. He thrusted harshly into you before pulling out. He grinned down at you before pushing back in quickly. The sensation making your body arch. You wanted to grab ahold of him wanted to dig your nails into him until you remembered the cuffs.

“Gonna cum- fuck gonna fill this fat cunt up so you remember that I’m no angel love” he growled. Your body stuttered under him as another strong orgasms was about to crash over you. He pushed as deep as possible hitting your womb before dumping his load deep inside you. His hand came down toying with your clit knowing you were close. You came hard once more but he didn’t stop, he kept playing with your clit.

“To much- lix!” You cried. He didn’t stop though he kept going as your body came off the bed. You felt tears fall as he asked “color?”.

“Ah- lix- g-green” you whined.

“Guess it’s not too much then” he said with a grin.

He kept going kept toying with your overstimulated clit until he got what he wanted. Your body looked like it was from the exorcist as it came off the bed once more. One of the most intense orgasms you’ve ever had washed over you. Your body felt like it was floating as you squirted all over the bed and him. You shook at the feeling silent cries leaving your lips.

He leaned down kissing you softly before quickly unlocking the cuffs. He wrapped you up in another blanket holding you tightly. You both breathed out coming down from the intenseness. “You alright?” He said softly against your skin.

“Great” you breathed out making you both chuckle.

“Shower?” He asked with a smile.

You nodded “please”.

When he got up taking your hand to help you up you laughed a bit “you should definitely be the devil only if I get to play with him some more” you said with a grin.

“Oh you will, especially now I know how much you like it” he said kissing your cheek.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

Taglist: @satosugu4l @do-you-remember-summer-127 @xines16 @minh0scat @troublemaker02 @tr-mha-fan @lunearta @velvetmoonlght @minghaosimp @ldysmfrst @felixleftchickennugget

[darkmatilda]

𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐬 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: when you find out spencer has never been to new york you decide to do everything you can to make him fall in love with the city that raised you. and maybe, just maybe, fall in love with you too.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐰: early seasons spencer reid x bau!female reader, reader is kinda tough, description of the case (stalking), spencer is so blind you'll want to kick him, idiots in love

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 9k

𝐚/𝐧: this is a request i got from @written-in-the-stars06 ! thank you for this amazing idea <3 i hope it meets your expectations (even if only a little)

"JJ, I need your help."

The blonde woman froze in the doorway.

"Did you kill someone?" she asked after a moment. And though she seemed surprised, her voice had already adjusted to the situation, lowering into a conspiratorial whisper. As if signaling her readiness to help hide a body. A friend in crime is a friend indeed.

Or however it goes. 

If your eyebrows competed in the Olympic high jump, they’d win a gold medal.

"What? How did you even…wait, is that seriously the first thing that crossed your mind when you saw me?" You watched as your friend shrugged. Her posture relaxed slightly, and the corner of her mouth twitched upward at the sight of your expression. "Anyway, never mind. Are you going to let me in, or are we just going to stand here?"

For a moment, she studied you intently before stepping aside. You’d known she would; it was exactly why you’d come to her. You crossed into her apartment with heavy, restless steps, stopping only when you reached the living room—and only then realizing you hadn’t even taken off your coat.

Pressing a hand to your forehead, you turned to face JJ, whose worry was written all over her face.

“Well? Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

You inhaled deeply, trying to steady yourself as you prepared to say the words out loud.

Words that felt absurd.

Words that had invaded your mind, refusing to let go.

Words you couldn’t decide whether to embrace or reject entirely.

“I’m in love.”

Silence filled the room. A soft, disbelieving snort escaped her lips, quickly morphing into loud, unabashed laughter.

“You gotta be kidding me.”

“I’m not. Why? Is it really that strange for me to be in love?”

JJ snorted again, shaking her head from side to side.

“No. What’s strange is you storming into my apartment like a hurricane, nervous and… terrified, just to tell me you’re in love. Seriously, I thought something was wrong!”

“Because something is wrong,” you hissed through clenched teeth.

You weren’t angry—not at JJ, not at yourself, not at anyone. It was more… the weight of it all, the unfamiliar feelings that left you overwhelmed, spilling out in sudden bursts of frustration.

Your romantic life up until now had always existed on the fringes of your attention. Present, but without all the…symptoms. The dry throat whenever they were around, the inability to get them out of your head.

It all felt like something out of a sugar-coated entry in a teenager’s pink diary, not the mind of a grown woman.

“I’ll make you some tea,” JJ offered suddenly. The worry that had been etched on her face earlier was completely gone, replaced by genuine amusement at your behavior, visible in the soft smile tugging at her lips. “You’ll tell me everything. But now, take off that coat before you overheat…”

True to her word, fifteen minutes later, the two of you were sitting on the couch with steaming mugs of tea in your hands.

While JJ had been in the kitchen preparing it, doubts began to creep in. Was it really a good idea to tell anyone about this? About your…infatuation?

Even though you were friends, the whole thing made you feel a little pathetic. 

“So…” she began after a long moment of silence. “Are you going to say anything?”

You couldn’t find the right words. Instead of answering, you took a big sip of hot tea and winced as it burned your throat.

“Okay,” JJ sighed, setting her mug down on the table and folding her arms across her chest. “If you’re not going to, let me just guess.”

“Since when are you a psychic?”

“Not a psychic. Just someone who spends most of her life around profilers. That should be enough to figure out why my friend is acting so weird about a simple crush.”

“Can we please not call it a crush?”

“Love interest. Better?” You muttered not really but she completely ignored it and continued. “Let’s start with the fact that you came here. To me. Considering how private you are, it must mean you’re totally losing it over this. You seem confused, like you don’t know what to feel. You’re unsure whether they feel the same, so you don’t know what to do. And it doesn’t help that you’ve never had to chase anyone before. You’ve always been the one that guys chased after, not the other way around. And…” she hesitated, taking a breath. “The fact that you seem embarrassed, plus how much you work, leaving no time for dating, leads me to think… it’s probably someone from our team.”

With every sentence that left her lips, your hands tightened more around the mug. When she fell silent, your knuckles turned completely white. Everything she said was true.

"What should I do?" you asked quietly.

"Well, it would definitely be easier for me to advise you if you tell me who it’s about."

Instinctively, you shook your head. You didn’t want to reveal your feelings that much. Surprisingly, you weren’t worried that she would figure it out. After all, it wasn’t that obvious...

"Is it Spencer?"

"Fuck, is it really that obvious?" you blurted out in panic. If she could notice, who else could? The rest of the team? Reid himself?

JJ made a sound somewhere between a cough and a choked laugh.

"Actually, I was just going to randomly list all the options one by one," she said, then let out a short sigh, raising her eyebrows. "You surprised me a little. I mean, it's not that I think you two don’t fit together..."

You knew exactly what she meant. Your specialty at work was kidnappings, often handling negotiations and providing detailed instructions to the families of victims. You had learned to project an aura of calm control, and more often than not, you came across as stiff in the eyes of others. Something that had been pointed out to you multiple times in life, whether in jest or not. Reid, in many ways, was your complete opposite. While you surrounded yourself with a shield of silence due to stress, his mouth never seemed to stop. While you marched forward with apparent indifference, he seemed genuinely interested in everything happening around him, every tiny process on this planet. And maybe that was what fascinated you most about him? Or perhaps it was more about his extraordinary mind, knowing the answer to every question that ever drifted through your thoughts? Or how effortlessly he could make you laugh? Or maybe it was the ease with which you could gently tug at the edge of that serious mask, always settled upon your face, and lift it just enough to let a certain lightness slip inside? To breathe?

"You should just invite him somewhere," JJ snapped you out of your thoughts.

"I tried," you said, wincing slightly at the memory of that failed attempt. Well, not entirely failed...

"Are you talking about how you asked in the office, in front of everyone, if anyone would like to go to the movies with you on Friday, and almost everyone volunteered?" she asked, amused. "That's not how you ask someone out on a date!"

"What else was I supposed to do? Walk up and ask if he wants to go to the movies with me?"

JJ blinked.

"Yes? Exactly like that? I mean, that’s how it usually goes. I don’t know what’s so weird about it for you."

"I’m just not made for this," you blurted out, pressing your lips together. "I can’t stand the thought that he might say no, because maybe he’s not interested in me. Not like I am in him."

"No offense, but you're such a hopeless case," she sighed heavily. "In that case, you need to find out. Invite him somewhere, not necessarily on a date, just a casual hangout. Spend some time together and you'll find out if he likes you."

"What if he doesn't?"

"What if he does?"

After a moment of silence, you managed to smile weakly.

"Maybe you're right," you said, emphasizing the first word. And before saying anything else, you nodded, as if giving yourself courage. "I'll give it a try."

*

Well, you didn’t get a chance to put that plan into motion.

Work didn’t slow down for even a moment, throwing you back onto the jet with your team, deep in discussion about everything uncovered so far regarding the unsub and the victims. Hardly the right time to ask someone on a date.

As usual, the case file commanded your full attention, isolating you from the buzz of conversation around you. You always needed a moment to absorb and analyze the details on your own. The voices of your teammates reached your ears faintly, their words blending into background noise—until one particular sentence jolted your brain awake, cutting through like a baseball slicing the air.

"You’ve never been to New York?" you asked, directing the question to Spencer, seated beside you, shoulder to shoulder.

All eyes turned to him. Startled by the attention, he gave a small shrug and absently picked up the deck of cards from the table, the ones you’d been playing with before the discussion began.

“We’ve never had a case there before,” he admitted simply. 

You closed the folder, and the slight breeze it caused swept a few cards off the table from the game you’d been playing earlier.

“Why am I only now finding out that you’ve never, ever, ever been to New York?” you asked, shaking your head in disbelief. He furrowed his brows, clearly surprised by your emotional reaction.

“I grew up there,” you added.

“And why am I only now finding out that you grew up in New York?” he mimicked your earlier tone. Rolling your eyes, you tried to swat him with the folder, but he deftly dodged it.

“Seriously though, you never told me,” he said.

“Don’t worry, man,” Morgan chimed in from across the table. “She never told me, either. In fact, I’d bet she never told any of us.”

You raised your hands in a defensive gesture.

“None of you ever asked.”

"Does that bother you?" Reid asked, his gaze fixed on you, intense and unwavering. A strand of his slightly too-long hair had slipped out from behind his ear. You had the sudden urge to reach out, tuck it back where it belonged, away from his line of sight. "That I’ve never been there?"

"Of course not," you assured him with a quick huff of laughter. "You just have a lot—and I mean a lot—to catch up on."

"If only I knew someone who knew the city well," he sighed dramatically. "Someone who, for example, grew up there and kept that fact a secret for as long as we know each other. Someone who could show me around..."

"You’d want me to show you around?" The words escaped your mouth a little too quickly, a little too eagerly. Your mind flashed back to your conversation with JJ, to her suggestion that you should invite him somewhere. You’d been too nervous to ask outright, but this? Showing him around the city was a perfect excuse to spend time together!

You felt like an evil mastermind rubbing your hands together in triumph over a new invention that could turn half of humanity into rubber ducks. Quickly, you shook your head, trying to mask the disproportionate excitement now threatening to take over your face. 

"I mean, if we had the time. Who knows how demanding this case might end up being."

"Right," he admitted. Some flicker of emotion crossed his face—a flash of something unplaceable. Could it have been a disappointment? 

He cleared his throat, a soft, tentative smile tugging at his lips. "But if it turns out we do have time... I’d be very happy if you’d show me a few places."

You couldn’t hold back any longer and allowed yourself a brief smile.

“But just so we’re clear,” you began after a moment, your tone carrying a seriousness that didn’t quite match the expression on your face. “I wasn’t keeping it a secret. Just no one ever asked me!”

Spencer let out a small snort at that.

"You know, I think you're the type of person who could go over a decade without revealing your name just because no one bothered to ask..."

“Are you done with discussing your secrets? Could we get back to focusing on the case?” Hotch’s voice suddenly cut in, sharp and calm, as he glanced at the two of you over the top of his file.

In perfect unison, you both turned toward him, sitting straighter than ever. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught Reid’s gaze for one more fleeting moment.

He wanted you to show him around.

Of course, that didn’t automatically mean he liked you. But it felt like it brought you a step closer to figuring out if there was even the smallest, most microscopic chance that he might feel the same way.

That hopeful thought was quickly chased by doubts—what if he didn’t?

You knew such thoughts would haunt you, tormenting and humiliating you in the quiet moments you were alone with yourself. So, you resolved not to dwell on them for the duration of your time in New York. Instead, you would focus on one thing —making him fall in love with the city where you’d grown up, the city that still held your heart even years after you’d left.

The discussion about the case had ended, but despite that, you continued to carefully examine the files. Well, not exactly them. On the back of the last page, a blank piece of paper, you started writing with the pen you had pulled out of your jacket pocket all the places you could take Spencer. You drifted through memories, trying to recall those places you had visited with your parents, the ones you had gone to with friends after school, the places you were taken on dates...

You crossed them all out. You doubted a sandwich bar would impress him. You didn’t know how many chances you’d have to go anywhere, so you had to aim for something really special. Maybe something that fit more with his interests. A museum? Or something more characteristic of the neighborhood where you’d be staying. A walk on the Brooklyn Bridge?

You felt someone’s gaze on you. You snapped the folder shut as if you had been caught doing something and saw Morgan staring at you with a slightly mocking smile on his lips.

"If you’re playing a tour guide, maybe you’d like to show me around too?" he asked.

You leaned slightly over the table, your face expressionless.

"I’m sure if you ask Garcia nicely, she’ll find you a guide online. At a good price."

"And here she is. The Ice Queen back in shape. Tell me, how’s it that just fifteen minutes ago you were acting completely differently?"

Amused, he shook his head, leaving you with the unsettling thought that maybe it really was that obvious.

*

“Alright. I’m a serial killer and a rapist. I stalk my victims by placing cameras in their apartment. Where do I hide them to get a good view of everything, but at the same time, make sure they're not noticed?”

"Reid, I’m begging you, never say something like that out loud again."

You and Spencer had been sent to the apartment of one of, unfortunately, many victims. All of them had been attacked in their own homes, with no visible signs of forced entry. That was the first puzzling element of this case. The second were the emails Garcia had found in each of the women’s inboxes. Emails suggesting they had been watched for a long time.

You made my favorite pasta for dinner. You should wear the red dress, sweetheart. Actually, who are you planning to meet?

The very thought of someone watching you in your own home sent a shiver down your spine.

“Apologies,” he muttered. “But I’m not under arrest, am I?”

“Who knows? It’d make for some interesting headlines. Or for the title of a true-crime documentary about you. FBI Agent on a Dark Path of Crime…”

“It’s Doctor.”

“My eternal apologies. Does mistaking your title also come with a sentence?”

“Well, we probably wouldn’t be sharing a cell, but maybe we’d run into each other in the cafeteria a few times.”

"I can't wait." You wandered around the apartment, peeking into every spot that came to mind. Since your back was turned to him, he couldn’t see the corners of your mouth curling upward. “You check the bathroom, alright? I don’t even want to imagine where that creep might have hidden a camera. I’ll be terrified to shower in my own place.”

Spencer gave a mock salute, as if you’d just given him an order. Well, in your tone, even polite requests rarely left room for refusal. But before he disappeared into the small bathroom with green-tiled walls, he paused for a moment, his fingers brushing the doorframe.

“That was a joke, right?” he asked, his voice shifting from light to soft and slightly concerned.

You turned toward him, arms crossed over your chest, not entirely sure what he meant.

“I mean…” he started, briefly scratching his forehead. “I just hope you’re not getting too involved in this case. I mean, you are, but not to the point where… where you’re scared afterward. Of being home alone. Taking a shower or…Does that even make sense?”

"That’s..." you began, trying your hardest not to say that’s sweet. The hint of concern that had flickered across his face, present in the way his eyes lingered on you. The fact that your offhand comment had moved him enough to bring it up at all. “Yeah, that does make sense. You know, considering all these women were my age and lived alone, just like me, it does feel a little personal. But don’t worry, I won’t let it stop me from maintaining proper hygiene.”

You tried to steer the conversation away from the unexpected seriousness, to shake off the weight that had suddenly settled over it. Well, you didn’t quite succeed. Spencer didn’t look particularly convinced—or amused. He gave a slight nod, barely noticeable and likely unconscious.

“I just wanted to make sure. That it’s not getting to you. Not… too much,” he clarified. His words grew tangled again. He dropped his gaze to the doorframe, as if contemplating whether to knock his forehead against it. “I’ll check the bathroom.”

You had spent far too long staring at the door behind which he had disappeared. Only shaking your head helped you force yourself to return to work. The victim's apartment wasn't huge; the living room, kitchen, and bedroom were all part of one room. You stopped by the kitchen area, where a large bowl on the counter still contained fresh fruit. Right next to it lay the apartment key, and although you should have been looking for cameras, you hesitantly picked it up. There was no keychain attached to it, nor was it part of a set of several other keys, as people usually did to keep from losing them. A number of disordered conclusions and theories crossed your mind, even though it was just a key, not a significant piece of evidence or something that shouldn't be there. Maybe the apartment's owner had lost the keys not long ago and had had one copied just before her disappearance, which would explain the lack of wear on it.

That lost set might have ended up in the wrong hands. Or it might not have been lost at all, but stolen.

Absentmindedly, you turned it in your hands, your gaze wandering across your surroundings. A very small space, with a real brick wall on one side and a shelf of dishes above the sink. You knew that the camera had to be somewhere in here, after all, one of the emails had referred to a meal cooked by the victim. Eventually, you stopped at a green plant on the shelf, just beside a stack of clean plates. It was artificial, meaning the victim didn't need to water it, which meant it probably hadn't been paid much attention to, and that meant it was a good hiding spot for a hidden camera.

You parted the leaves and took the small black device in your hand.

Instead of calling Spencer, who was still in the bathroom, you tilted your head back and with a sigh, headed toward the balcony doors, feeling a slight ringing in your ears. It was awful. The very thought of being watched in your own apartment, a place where you should feel safest, for an unknown amount of time.

You leaned against the black railing of the small balcony, which was probably there only because of the fire escape stairs running along the entire building. You just needed to breathe in some fresh air, spend literally a minute outside, but as soon as you looked ahead, that minute started turning into minutes.

After you arrived in New York, you immediately got to work on the case; there had been no time for nostalgic sighs over familiar streets.

You tore your gaze away from them only when someone’s silhouette appeared beside you, turned sideways to face you.

“Two cameras in the bathroom,” Spencer announced. As per your earlier request, he didn’t say exactly where they were placed, and after his words, a moment of silence fell.

You tried your hardest to ensure that no grimace passed across your face. You considered it unprofessional, getting too emotionally involved in the investigation, imagining yourself in the victim's place. But apparently, it even happened to the best of them.

“You really value your privacy, don’t you?”

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, stopping yourself from rolling them.

"Are you still dwelling on what I said earlier? I'm fine, Spencer."

"I’m only dwelling on what I’ve noticed a long time ago," he said, ignoring your dismissive response. "Well, and also making sure you’re okay. But what I really mean is that you don’t talk much about yourself. I only just found out today that you grew up here. I’m not saying this in a bad way, I get that you might not want to tell me everything about yourself…"

"It’s not about you," you interrupted him, finally turning so you were fully facing him. You once again took note that the balcony was really small. You realized how close you were standing. The closeness that made honesty a bit more necessary. The closeness that made you swallow more often from the dryness in your throat. You cleared your throat, wanting to clarify your somewhat vague words. "I mean, it’s not like I have a problem telling you about me, it’s just… I don’t know, I’ve always been like this. I never really know what’s worth sharing and what’s not. I’ve always been better at listening to what others have to say."

Reid listened to your words with understanding written on his face. You had the feeling that he had become a little bit lighter. He glanced briefly at the railing, and when he looked back at you, he squinted against the sunlight that was streaming onto the balcony.

"I was a bit worried that your silence was because it tires you how much I can talk," he admitted, his tone betraying a hint of hesitation.

You almost let out a laugh.

"It’s actually quite the opposite, trust me."

With those words, you turned back towards the city, trying to avoid his gaze.

"I like listening to you," you added quietly.

You thought he wouldn't add anything more. That you'd both remain frozen for another prolonged moment on this balcony, with the cameras you'd found tucked into your pockets and the looming return to work on the case. That you'd step back inside the apartment, letting the chill in your cheeks fade along with their faintly rosy hue.

"And I..." he began, nervously shifting his grip on the railing. "I really like talking to you."

You strained your memory, but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't recall any other day at work when you'd smiled so many times.

“The rest is probably still in the other victims’ apartments,” you stated cautiously, recalling the locations of those places. Speaking each word slowly helped you build the courage to voice the spontaneous idea that had just come to you. “We’ve found what we were looking for. Hotch hasn’t called us yet, so I guess we’re free. Are you...are you maybe hungry?”

*

Your knees had brushed against each other.

“Sorry,” Spencer muttered immediately, shifting his chair back slightly.

You pretended to be preoccupied with surveying the interior of the café. To be fair, there was a lot to take in. The décor defied categorization, with every wall covered in a different material and painted a different color. One wall was entirely obscured by an antique bookshelf. From what you could tell, the mismatch extended to the furniture; no two chairs were alike. Some were made of different types of wood, others upholstered in leather, and one even spun on a swivel.

In short, the place looked like the kind of room you’d stumble into during a fever dream—where two chubby cats braid your hair while you have a very serious conversation with a purple teapot trying to convince you to take out a loan at its bank. And somehow, none of it feels the least bit strange. In fact, you’d wake up from the dream genuinely considering the loan.

One of your hands rested on your knee, the same one his had accidentally grazed. You tapped your fingers lightly on it, keeping rhythm with the pop song playing faintly in the background. The other hand was tucked beneath your chin in a classic thinker’s pose. Except, instead of contemplating the mysteries of the universe or arriving at profound insights, you were solely focused on one pressing question: Who on earth decided to use such narrow tables? Tables that constantly forced you to be hyper-aware of the risk of touching his leg. Again.

“There used to be a sandwich bar here,” you said, tearing the croissant apart with your fingers. “I don’t know why, but I didn’t even consider that anything could have changed. Sorry.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” Spencer assured you. “Actually, I didn’t realize how much I needed coffee until I caught the smell. Did you come here often?”

“All the time,” you admitted briefly.

You noticed him looking at you with a hint of amusement, which made you furrow your brows.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he replied dismissively, turning the cup in his hands. “It’s just…I remembered what we were talking about earlier, and I thought this might be one of those things worth sharing.”

“Alright,” you said, rolling your eyes, though there wasn’t an ounce of irritation in the gesture. “I used to come here with my friends literally every Friday. It was cheap and relatively close to our school, and none of us had a driver’s license yet, so we walked everywhere, complaining about sweaty people on the subway. Do you think that piece of information is going to be useful to you in any way? Was it worth sharing?”

“Well, believe it or not, I absolutely do,” he chuckled. “Besides, you never know which piece of information might come in handy someday.”

You summed it up with another roll of your eyes, but a soft smile remained stubbornly on your lips. You were genuinely pleased with yourself for breaking the ice and inviting him somewhere, even if at any moment this brief reprieve could be interrupted by a call from your boss, demanding your immediate return. JJ had been right. All it took was just doing it.

“I promised to show you around a bit, remember?” you asked. Having scored a small victory, you decided to keep the momentum going and suggest taking him to a truly special place.

“The offer hasn’t expired, right?”

“It doesn’t have an expiration date. It just depends on, well, our work. I doubt we’ll be able to visit many places. So I’ve made…” you hesitated, unsure if you should admit to spending two full hours obsessively considering where you could take him and even writing it down in the case files. “I’ve thought it through and picked out a few key ones. Places I think you’ll like. So, whenever we have time, maybe in the evening… though no, some of them might be closed then…”

"Places you think I might like?" Spencer interjected gently. You stopped, surprised, unsure why he focused on that particular part of your sentence. "What about the ones that are important to you?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean..." he trailed off, making some vague gesture with his hand. "I was curious about the places you used to visit when you lived here. The ones that meant something to you. Are they on the list, too?"

You didn’t need to physically glance at the list; you had it memorized entirely and knew they weren’t on it. You had chosen the places solely with him in mind—his interests and your desire to impress him. You cleared your throat.

“We don’t have much time,” you gently reminded him. “I wanted to show you the really important places. The highlights of New York or something that would stick in your memory. Not some sandwich bar that, by the way, doesn’t even exist anymore, or a drive-in theater...”

“A drive-in theater?”

“You know, you drive up to a spot and watch a movie being projected. I absolutely loved it, really, but it doesn’t matter because there’s no way we could arrange something like that now.” you explained, your thoughts oddly lingering on the idea of spending time with him in a similar way. "God, I didn’t expect being a tour guide to be this hard. Not only do we barely have time for anything I planned, but my client keeps complaining the whole time..."

"Okay, fine, sorry," he raised his hands in a defensive gesture, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly. "Apologies for wanting to spend time the way you would enjoy. What a jerk I am."

"Exactly, you should be ashamed. I’ll add it to your bill," you teased, taking a sip of your coffee, which you’d completely forgotten about. It had gone cold during your conversation.

"And now, completely seriously," Spencer began again, the sarcastic expression disappearing from his face as he looked at you with genuine interest, those brown eyes steady and curious. "I’ll let you take me anywhere you want. So, what places did you pick?"

You were internally excited to finally tell him about them.

But then, your phone rang.

*

The rest of the day was intense and entirely consumed by the investigation. Unfortunately, you didn’t uncover anything that could genuinely bring you closer to catching the perpetrator. In fact, you didn’t even have a profile yet.

Each of you felt a bit disheartened by the lack of progress. After all, every passing day meant a greater risk that another victim could be harmed in her own home. It was even more unsettling knowing that some woman was likely being stalked at that very moment.

Still, despite the mediocre morale and mounting exhaustion, you managed to summon enough energy and resolve to visit one particular place.

You were just returning from there, walking one behind the other down the narrow hallway of the hotel where you'd been stationed. You could feel Spencer's presence and hear his footsteps just behind you. In your mind, you stubbornly tried to figure out what you should say before you both retreated to your respective rooms.

There was a certain lightness in you, brought on by the release of tension through a pleasant evening, but also a heaviness caused by the weight of your feelings. It had been nice. It had been... wonderful. Yet, it hadn’t brought you any closer to knowing whether he liked you.

Maybe you should talk to JJ again.

You stopped suddenly, hearing Spencer let out a quiet sigh as he almost bumped into your back. You turned on your heel, slowly, feeling a dryness creep into your throat.

Spencer was standing just in front of you, his gaze shifting uncertainly between your face and the floor. He opened his mouth, as if to say something, but immediately closed it, lost in thought. You pressed your lips into a thin line, determined to wait for whatever he might want to say.

“Where are you two coming from at this hour?”

The door to the room next to you suddenly swung open, and Morgan’s head poked out, a smirk plastered across his face as he looked at the two of you.

You both exchanged a brief glance before locking your eyes on him. The sudden presence of another person, standing in front of you with his arms crossed and curiosity in his gaze, made it painfully clear how close you had become to each other.

The most awkward thing you could possibly do now was to step away from each other. And, well, that’s exactly what Spencer did.

You didn’t even flinch, glancing briefly at your colleague.

“From the library,” you replied.

It was the truth. In a compromise between places that might interest him and those that were important to you, you had ended up there. And not just any library, but the largest one in the entire district.

As soon as the thought crossed your mind, a warmth spread inside you. The warmth of walking among the shelves, barely catching glimpses of each other’s faces through the surrounding orange light of the lamps fighting to dominate over the engulfing shadows. The warmth of your clumsy attempts to focus on the environment, not on Spencer’s face, which was so mesmerized as he studied the books. His brow slightly furrowed, hair escaping from its place and falling across his face. Eyes fixed on one spot, pupils stretching across the entire surface of his irises, creating two truly hypnotizing points on his face, which you struggled to avoid staring into.

“From the library at night?” Morgan repeated, shaking his head with a mix of amusement and disbelief. “I knew you were a nerd, Reid, but you… I’m really disappointed in you.”

“Oh no, how will I survive this?” you scoffed. You saw Spencer briefly smile as well. “Anyway, goodnight, my dear coworkers. See you tomorrow.”

With those words, you made your way to your room, feeling somewhat like an escapee.

You knew that there were only a few hours of sleep left, and you needed to at least function a bit in the morning, so you immediately headed for the shower, grabbing something to change into on the way. Two things were on your mind. Was Morgan still torturing Spencer with questions in the hallway? And did Spencer enjoy your time together as much as you did?

As you analyzed your interactions with him, you realized there was an awkwardness you hadn’t noticed before. You never realized that awkwardness could be sweet. You’d always seen it as a purely negative feeling, something that caused embarrassment. But it could also make your heart race and cause your breathing to quicken. And dizziness, when you tried to control it all.

You felt like you had regressed to your high school days. You almost wanted to run to your friend and excitedly tell her all about the evening. For a moment, you even considered it, but JJ was probably already asleep.

You stepped out of the shower, wrapped in a towel, and when you pulled on a tank top and some loose pajama pants, you started gathering the clothes you’d worn earlier that day. As you lifted your pants, something small fell out of the pocket and clinked as it hit the floor.

A single key.

It took you a moment to realize that you must have accidentally taken it from one of the victims' apartments. Back when you discovered the hidden camera in the plant, you must have mindlessly shoved it into your pocket. A nervous pang of anxiety shot through your chest. You shouldn’t have taken anything from that place. Another sharp pang followed quickly after, as the sight in front of your eyes suddenly blurred, and something started to form in your mind.

At first, it was a shy thought. But almost immediately, it became a thought that needed to be discussed. Because it could push the investigation forward.

You rushed into the hallway before even deciding where to go. There, you turned in circles, unsure of what to do. This wasn’t an idea that warranted waking Hotch; honestly, you would’ve felt foolish going to him in the middle of the night with just a flicker of an insight in your head. So you thought of someone else—sharp in the way you needed, incredibly intelligent, and probably still awake, since you had just parted ways a mere fifteen minutes ago.

You knocked on Spencer's door.

“I have a theory,” you announced, shifting nervously from foot to foot.

His face registered surprise at the sight of you at this hour, his hand—still rubbing sleep from his eye—froze in place before dropping to his side. He must’ve just been lying down.

“A theory about what?” he asked, his voice a little rough with sleep.

Quite a pleasant rasp. Wait, no, refocusing…

“About who built the pyramids in Giza,” you huffed, the potential solution to the case accompanied by a little stress, and stress, for you, always came out in the form of a biting sarcasm as soon as you opened your mouth.

You slipped past him, effectively inviting yourself inside. Spencer was too surprised to step aside in time, so you inadvertently brushed against his side. Well, you didn’t want to have this conversation in the hallway, for fear that your voices would attract Morgan or anyone else.

“Well, it’s not really a secret, despite what some people like to think,” Spencer started, closing the door behind you and turning uncertainly toward you. His gaze quickly darted to you, sweeping over your body. He shook his head slightly, as if trying to focus. He must’ve been sleepy, and it probably wasn’t coming easily. “The construction of those monumental structures required the labor of many workers…”

“I have a theory about the case.”

You didn’t really think it would need further clarification. Without fully controlling your movements, you collapsed onto his bed, sitting at the edge. Suddenly, the confidence you had felt in the bathroom vanished.

He didn’t sit down, instead standing in front of you, his hands constantly shifting position. At one moment, they were crossed over his chest, and then, after a brief pause, he dropped them back to his sides. His gaze seemed restless too—almost strange. Sometimes it dropped to you, but then quickly changed direction, as though he was trying to find the right exit off a roundabout before giving up and returning to the starting point. That is, back to you. But you were too lost in your own thoughts to wonder what it was about your appearance that so intensely drew his gaze.

"Okay," he said slowly, coughing into his clenched fist to clear the roughness in his voice. "Okay. I guess that's a good thing. What's the theory? Do you need to talk it through?"

“That’s why I came here,” you replied, taking in a little more air than necessary, trying to logically connect the scattered conclusions that had formed in your mind. “Listen, it might turn out that what I’m saying makes absolutely no sense. But it might also turn out that it does have some logic to it. I want you to tell me which of these options you think is true. So... I couldn’t stop thinking about that key in the victim’s apartment, the one we were in. It looked brand new, like it had just been made. At first, I thought maybe she’d lost the old one somewhere. It ended up in the wrong hands. The unsub’s hands. That would explain how he got inside without leaving any signs of forced entry. But that would make sense if there had only been one victim. There were many, though, and it’s impossible for each one of them to have lost their keys recently. Unless they were stolen. Or maybe it was the loss of the keys that led to them becoming victims in the first place.”

The biggest mystery that had come up on your team’s path was how the unsub was even choosing his victims. They were all around the same age, all women, and lived alone. Other than that, they were completely different. They lived in different places, looked nothing alike, had different professions, and were of different races.

“So…” you continued, searching his face for any sign. Any trace of understanding, a hint that he was connecting the dots. Some confirmation. But Spencer just stood there, motionless, looking like he was only half present, his gaze fixed on you.

“I came to what might be...a bit of a bold conclusion. Maybe the unsub works as someone who makes spare keys. People come to him, including women. He picks the ones that fit his preferences, makes himself a copy, and that’s how he gets in to install hidden cameras. And then... well, to…” You paused, noticing his unwavering stare. “What? What are you looking at me like that for? Do you think I’m talking nonsense?”

He looked like he had suddenly snapped out of some daydream. He shook his head, scratching his chin, and taking a step in place, all of these actions flowing together in an incoherent, chaotic manner.

“I don’t think so,” he said after a moment. “It’s... interesting, and…you know, I think this is the first time I’ve seen you in something other than a formal outfit.”

Your eyebrows shot up. That was the last thing you expected him to say. While he had been fidgeting earlier, now he stood completely still. It was true, you usually dressed quite elegantly, not just for work. But you didn’t know why it seemed to impress him so much.

You didn’t know until you looked down and remembered your top. The one hastily thrown on, with a deep neckline. Seriously, was that really all about it? 

You sighed in disbelief and stood up from the bed.

"Sure," you let out a biting chuckle, though, despite not wanting to admit it to yourself, you could feel a tingling sensation creeping under your skin. "Tell a guy about your breakthrough discovery, and he won't even listen, too busy staring at your boobs."

You took two steps toward the door, but Spencer blocked your way, grabbing your forearm.

“Th-that's not what I meant!” he stammered in an unusually high-pitched tone, his wide eyes reflecting panic. Whether from your sudden reaction or the fact that you caught him.

His hand loosened its grip on your arm, just below your elbow, but he didn't let go. The way he held on brought you closer together, and the realization of how near you were, along with his face right in front of yours, stole the breath from your chest. You couldn't help but reflect on how everything so far had made you both close in proximity. First the narrow balcony where your shoulders almost brushed against each other, then the tiny table in the café where your knees kept knocking, even the way you accidentally brushed past him when you entered his room.

But this closeness wasn’t accidental. It was his doing, controlled by him, and, judging by the shock on his face after a quick glance, it seemed to surprise him as well.

He didn’t let go of you.

Instead, he focused his gaze on your face. You kept your head lowered, staring at his fingers gently holding your arm. You could hear him swallow softly before he spoke, his voice slightly raspy again, but this time not from sleep.

"I think your theory makes a lot of sense," he said. "And...it’s given me a lot to think about. It’s probably a man around forty years old. He works as a locksmith, using that job to gain access to his victims’ homes where he installs cameras. He sees these women as objects of his fantasies, and watching them provides him with some sort of fulfillment. His behavior stems from an unfulfilled need for closeness and control, which he can’t find in normal relationships. He’s socially inept, has low self-esteem, and a poor sense of self-worth. He writes to these women, idealizes them, sees them as his chosen ones, living in an alternate reality where he doesn’t see the boundary between fantasy and reality."

There was a moment of silence between you, as you analyzed the profile he had just presented.

"That's...impressive," you confessed slowly, still dazed by the sudden closeness, your gaze stubbornly avoiding his face.

"And that's all..." he began, but then suddenly stopped. The word simply dissolved in a hesitant, trembling way. You heard him take a deep breath. "And that's all while looking at your breast."

You suddenly lifted your head.

Never, not in a million years, did you think you’d find yourself in a situation where you’d hear such words coming from him. Your jaw slightly dropped, and a strange feeling spread through your stomach. You were not only shocked but also, in a way, on the verge of laughter because of the surprise on his face. It was as if he had said it by accident and didn't quite believe it himself. At the same time, something inside you tickled.

You let out a short sigh, sounding almost like a burst of laughter.

Spencer released your forearm, and as your silence dragged on, deep embarrassment began to consume his expression.

"Sorry...I don't know why I said that..."

You interrupted him by raising your hand.

"No," you said briefly, shaking your head slightly. "That was really impressive."

Confused, he studied your face. When you smiled, he hesitantly mirrored it, though he probably didn’t even know why—he was simply mimicking your expression.

Without turning back, you took two slow steps toward the door.

"You’ll have to present that profile to Hotch," you announced, resting your hand on the doorknob. Spencer still hadn’t moved, and his face bore a hard-to-decipher expression—part apology, part embarrassment, and part... something else. A certain spark.

Before stepping out and leaving him in that state, you glanced back at him one last time with a smirk.

"Just do me a favor and don’t mention the circumstances under which it was developed, alright?"

He crossed his arms over his chest, allowing himself one more smile—this time a genuine one.

"Trust me. I wasn’t planning on it.” 

*

Hotch stared at you for a moment in silence, and the corner of his mouth…twitched?! For the first time since you started working at the BAU, you managed to make your boss smile.

 It would be nice to know why.

The next day, thanks to the conclusions you and Spencer had reached in his room, you finally managed to catch the unsub. Your theory about the locksmith turned out to be correct. And when you realized it was Friday, a certain thought crossed your mind. You just needed to clear it with the boss. Well, actually, you only needed to inform him that you and one other team member wouldn't be on the jet that day. Taking advantage of the upcoming weekend, you decided to extend your stay in New York for one more day.

A day that you could spend however you wanted.

The idea came to you so spontaneously that you hadn’t even discussed it with Spencer yet, but you felt, you hoped, that he wouldn't surprise you by turning it down.

The only thing standing in your way was that mysterious smile on Hotch’s face.

“Is that a problem?” you asked, furrowing your brows.

He just shook his head, returning to his usual expression. Though it seemed slightly softer, or maybe it was just your impression.

“It’s not a problem,” he assured. “Reid actually asked me the same thing about ten minutes ago.”

*

“Just, for the record, don’t mention to anyone what we used the company car for,”

"Do you really think I'd go bragging to the office that we used an unmarked police car just to have a place to watch movies at a drive-in?"

He barely caught the bag of chips you tossed at him.

"Just making sure," you said, climbing into the back of the car.

Well, it was definitely a pastime much more popular in the summer, which is why there weren’t many other vehicles around. And also why you immediately curled up under your cozy blanket, claiming almost all of it for yourself. The only source of light in that peaceful spot was the large screen ahead of you, with the movie beginning. But even in the dim lighting, you could see him tilt his head and slightly pout.

You sighed and shared the blanket with him. Or rather, you moved closer enough that the fabric could cover both of you. You added it to the list of situations where, once again, you found yourselves in circumstances that somehow required physical contact. It made you wonder if, somewhere up there, some force was orchestrating the universe’s chessboard in such a way that these moments seemed to happen more often than not.

Of course, not that it bothered you.

While you were still struggling with the blanket, trying to find the most comfortable position, Spencer told you a little about the awards that Roman Holiday had won.

“Sorry if I’m disturbing you,” he suddenly said.

“I told you, I like listening to you,” you reminded him, turning your face slightly toward his.

Finally, everything was perfect. The blanket wrapped around you in the most comfortable way, you could lean your back against the trunk and your shoulder against his. He was there.

“Yeah, but the movie just started.”

“I’ve seen it,” you announced. Somehow, you couldn’t take your eyes off his profile, even though all you could see was the outline of his jaw and nose, and the barely noticeable glint in his eye. “And I really like it. But just so you know, I didn’t pick it just to... you know.”

“Know what?”

“It’s a romantic comedy.”

He turned toward you, and you saw him flinch slightly, realizing that your gaze had been on him for quite some time. Spencer gave a slight shake of his head, furrowing his brows in confusion. You could have easily brushed it off, accepted that he didn’t understand what you meant. Probably, with anyone else, you would have. But you noticed that the more time you spent with him, the surprisingly more talkative you became. So, you continued without thinking too much about your words.

“What I mean is, I didn’t pick this movie to fit a date. It just so happens that today…”

“Is this a date?” he blurted out.

You stiffened completely, not just because of his question, but because of the genuine surprise in his voice. You wanted to ask, isn’t this a date? but your lips refused to open. Instead, you just stared at him motionless for a moment, hoping he might laugh it off.

After the conversation in his room, after he decided to stay one more day in New York for you, after you both chose to watch the movie just the two of you…Officially, neither of you had called it a date, but you had assumed that deep down, you both saw it that way. Apparently, you were wrong.

"The movie has already started," you muttered, nodding toward the screen. It had begun some time ago, but you had no idea how to change the topic. You had to do it because of the growing sense of embarrassment consuming you from the inside.

 You had told him you thought it was a date. It was like telling him you liked him. Which, in fact, was true, but you didn’t want him to be aware of it, especially since he didn’t feel the same!

“Hey,” he suddenly began, his voice a little strained. You pretended not to hear, staring at the screen. Spencer sighed and leaned forward to block your view of it, forcing you to look at him. His eyes nervously searched your face, you saw him swallow. “Is this a date for you?”

You wanted to push him away for asking the same question again.

"It doesn’t matter," you replied. Your tone was sharp but not aggressive. It was the same tone you used most days at work to make it clear to others that you expected to be treated with respect and that the situation or case you were working on was serious. "If this isn’t a date for you, then it isn’t a date. End of story. Can you move? I can’t see…”

“But I…” he began, not moving an inch. His forehead remained furrowed, and his brows slightly lowered over his eyes—genuine, still somewhat surprised eyes, trying to connect with yours. Finally, under their silent pressure, you gave in and looked at him. Spencer’s expression softened. "I didn't even dare to hope that this was a date!"

Something—some feeling—clung tightly to your shoulders, pulling them both forward, toward him, and backward, against the wall of the trunk.

“You’re only saying that to spare me from feeling awkward. And so we don’t have to spend the next few hours… the next day in an unbearably embarrassing atmosphere,” you stated, genuinely believing those words to be true. “Which I’m probably not making any easier. Maybe we should just forget it…”

 “Do you wish this was a date?” he asked, and you barely resisted the urge to roll your eyes. Of course, you did. You wanted to scream it into his beautiful face. Spencer exhaled loudly. “Because I’d want it to be. I really would.”

You lingered in a moment of suspension, unable to decide whether to believe him. Your job had taught you not to always trust words. Just words.

 “Prove it,” you said softly but firmly.

Deep down, you didn’t know what you expected. And neither did Spencer, standing opposite you. Like you, he didn’t move at all. Only subtle changes flickered across his expression. Another crease formed on his forehead as he tried to decipher what lay behind your words. After a long moment, during which neither of you seemed to breathe, his gaze dropped to your lips. That’s when he understood.

You knew he was going to kiss you. You waited for it, ready to meet him, to gently place your hand on his cheek and feel the warmth of his lips against yours. You waited to sweep away the lingering question mark hanging above you both with one decisive motion, replacing it with a firm period.

Was this a date?

It was a date.

Spencer placed his hand under your chin, holding it close to him. Preventing you from pulling away when he momentarily broke the kiss. You saw the smooth flutter of his eyelashes as he shifted his sparkling gaze from your lips to your eyes.

“Sorry,” he rasped.

You couldn’t help but smile slightly.

“Are you apologizing for kissing me?” you asked, raising your eyebrows slightly.

He shook his head, a fleeting smile appearing on his face as well.

“I’m sorry for sometimes being so stupid,” he replied. “About these things.”

You closed your eyes again, letting out a soft snort of laughter. Suddenly, all of it—this whole dance you had been performing around each other, the panic when you realized you liked him, and the fear that he wouldn’t feel the same—seemed utterly absurd. But that’s just how people are, isn’t it? Looking back at the past with a touch of pity.

"Let’s agree on this. We’re both complete idiots."

Spencer was silent for a moment, lost in thought.

“We were,” he corrected you.

"We aren’t anymore?” you asked.

He answered by placing another kiss on your lips.

taglist:

@she-wont-miss @mggslover @nyeddleblog @dylanobrienswife0420 @wmoony

@heddgie @khxna @marauder-exe-old @yujyujj @charleyreid @kitty-kai @sp3ncelle @pleasantwitchgarden @beesin03 @misserabella @re1dsb1xch @trulymadlydarling @cynbx @penelopegarciaismygf

[456-is-the-way]

hiii so ive had this idea for a while now but i just dont have the skills to write it myself, its not really a reader x character but more of a maybe actor!reader x the actor of the character if u get me??😭😭

so the idea is actor!reader plays a character that is also played as the love interest/partner of hwang inho (lee byung hun's character) and during their scenes together (like an intimate scene between their characters) reader just keeps messing up her lines or having trouble staying in character because she keeps getting flustered/shy by lee byung hun causing them to redo the scene over and over again so him and the whole cast just keeps laughing and teasing her about it😣😣🙏🙏🙏

A/n: So I will be going in order of the requests I get in my ask box then I will start on some suggestions I have in the comments. Once again, I do Actor x reader actor! So here is one of those ideas and I love it. I was going to do a tag list but I don’t know why it won't let me tag people!

Trigger warnings: Talks of smut, Partial Smut (lol?)

Squid Game Masterlist

Lee Byung-hun x reader

Quiet On Set

(Y/n) knew this scene would be the hardest to film. Sure as a professional actor, she filmed multiple movies that had intimate scenes. However, (Y/n) never had a romantic interest in the other actors. There was an instant spark when she met Lee Byung-hun. His character happens to have a complex background and in this season goes undercover to destroy Gi-hun, Lee Jung-jae, in an attempt to show him no matter what, people are greedy. Thats when (Y/n) character is introduced. (C/n) is written to be the complete opposite of The Frontman, In-ho. She is kind, patient, understanding, caring, and meant to show the good in humanity even though she has been dealt only hardships in life. Throughout the season their love builds up, soft touches, knowing glances, and quick kisses in secret. All the while (Y/n) had been falling helplessly in love with Lee Byung-hun. Of course, the fans did not let this go unnoticed during their recent interviews. Social media had blown up with edits and multiple bloggers posting about the chemistry they shared. (Y/n) would not admit her guilty pleasure is watching those edits and making comments herself which and fans foaming at the mouths. Lee Byung-hun even found it humorous that people not only shipped their character but them as well. When any with him and (Y/n) not on set but together was posted the fans always blew the comment section up within minutes. 

“Alright places everyone!” Hwang Dong-hyuk called as the crew rushed to make sure everything was set up in the correct frames. “(Y/n), Byung-hun are you all ready?” He asked kindly always wanting to double-check checking the actors were comfortable in scenes where they would be partially on display. (Y/n) nods even though slightly hesitant she walked onto the set and stood by the bathroom wall where the scene was going to be shot.

Byung-hun walked behind her with a smile, “Don’t be nervous (Y/n) this scene will be over before you know it.” It earned a shy smile from the actress leaning against the wall. 

“I am not that nervous… It’s a while since I have done scenes like this. Alright, I think we are ready.” She told the director and Byung-hun nodded in agreement. 

“Quiet on set, Take one, action!” He yelled and silence filled the room. (Y/n) could swear her heartbeat could probably be heard by how badly it was beating against her chest. 

Byung-hun fell into character without hesitation moving to press (Y/n) the cold tile. She breathes heavily cheeks flushed looking into his eyes. “In-ho we can’t” She whispered as he began aggressively kissing up her neck pressing their bodies together. (Y/n) let out a whimper from the pleasure she felt. 

“But you (C/n)” His voice went low showing his absolute dominance. (Y/n) wasn’t used to this side of the sweet Byung-hun. As scripted their jumpsuits were quickly discarded. The heavy breathing filled the room as the two actors stood almost nude in front of each other. His leg slipped between (Y/n). 

She arched up and moaned softly feeling him rub his knee against her covered core. “Byung-hun!” (Y/n) gasped causing him to instantly freeze. “Fuck I’m sorry.” She said as the director yelled cut. 

“Let's roll again.” As the scene had to be started over (Y/n) continued to be a flustered mess messing up the lines or using Byung-hun’s name instead of Young-Il.

“You are a mess.” He chuckled as the team thought it was hilarious she could not for the life of her finish the scene. Byung-hun smirked and leaned down whispering in a low sexual voice. “Do it in one shot this time and I’ll let you cry my name tonight.”

(Y/n)’s eyes widen looking into her costars eyes with a grin. Let's just say she didn’t mess up again.

[multific]

Rolling for Love

Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: He always watched you from afar, never brave enough to talk to you.

You were hustling through the hallway, your books and notebooks tightly pressed against your chest, when it happened. The sound of items hitting the floor echoed down the empty corridor.

Your dice scattered in every direction.

You froze, feeling a rush of embarrassment.

Of all the days, this had to be the one.

Your heart raced as you rushed to pick up everything.

A familiar pair of boots comes into view, followed by Eddie Munson’s face peering down at you. His eyes are wide, almost amused, as he bends down to help you pick up the scattered items. You mumble an apology, feeling even more flustered, and then catch a glimpse of something unexpected.

"Looks like someone’s having an eventful afternoon," he said, kneeling down to help you gather everything.

You let out a nervous laugh, heat rising to your cheeks. 

"Yeah, sorry about that. Didn’t mean to make a scene."

"No big deal," he replied casually, handing a dice back to you. "You into this kind of game, then?"

You hesitate, feeling your heart skip a beat. His curiosity makes your palms sweat a little, but how he looks at you makes it easier to talk about it. 

"I’ve been into it for a while. I usually play as a rogue. Like sneaking around and outsmarting people. Do you play?"

He grinned, obviously pleased by the topic of conversation. 

"I’m the one who sets it all up—Dungeon Master. Someone’s gotta keep things interesting. It’s a lot of work, but I love it." of course he was. It fit him so well. "You know," he starts slowly, his eyes searching yours as if looking for something. "I’ve wanted to talk to you for a while now."

You blink, caught off guard. "Really? I... didn’t know that."

He shrugs, a bit of colour rising to his cheeks. 

"Yeah. I guess I’ve always been a little nervous about it. You seem so... well, cool. Out of my league, maybe."

You raised an eyebrow, trying not to let the compliment catch you off guard. 

"Out of your league? That’s kind of ridiculous."

He seemed to relax a bit, and a hint of a grin returned to his face. 

"Maybe. But you’re smart, you’re funny, and you seem into the same things I am. I just didn’t think it’d ever happen."

You bit your lip, trying to find the right words. 

"Well, you know, I’ve actually been kind of into you too."

"Wait, really?" he blinked, looking genuinely surprised. 

"Yeah," you said, feeling a bit nervous. "I’ve liked you for a while, actually. I just never said anything."

He took a step closer, his expression softening, a smile on his lips.

"That’s... kind of a surprise."

You let out a small laugh, feeling the tension slowly leave the air between you.

For a moment, you both just stood there, the hallway seeming almost empty except for the two of you. He finally spoke up, his voice low and thoughtful. 

"So, what now?" he asked rather nervously.

"We could grab a coffee sometime, maybe talk more about D&D... or, you know, just hang out." you shrugged your shoulders. 

"That sounds perfect." he liked the idea. 

As you started walking down the hallway, talking about your favourite campaigns and possible new storylines, it felt like the world turned in a new direction. 

And maybe, just maybe, you and Eddie were finally going in the right direction, together.

Taglist: 

@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou

@mandoloriancookie @deliciousfestsalad @lilliumrorum @asgards-princess-of-mischief  

@fallout-girl219 @dracaryxzs @snowtargaryen @brevlada24

@mel-vaz @akamitrani @ange-olras @nicholaschavezslut69

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE, TO STEAL OR TO REPOST ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[gyaruhana]

hii I was js wondering if u cld write some headcannons or a scenario for yandere myung gi (player 333) nothing specificc

Myung-gi/Player 333 - Yandere Headcannons

Synopsis: Headcannons of Myung-gi liking you just a little too much.. (okay, it's way more than a little)

A/N: cute idea i like !!

Warnings: obsessive behavior, yandere content, kidnapping, murder, stalking

➠ Yandere Myung-gi is such a good thought..

➠ Likely watched you from afar at first but not in a stalker-ish way

➠ Moreso he'd stare at you if you were nearby and think about how you are so very pretty

➠ although, to be fair, he did find all your social media profiles when he got home but that was the most of it !!

➠ he only got obsessive when he saw you talking to some guy and felt quite angry

➠ from there he started stalking you to your house, to your job- everywhere just to make sure no one else was pining after you.

➠ if someone was, he'd leave a very ominous message about staying away from you or harm would come to the persons family

➠ Of course, it was all just threats to scare people away.

➠ eventually, he wormed his way into your life with a cute smile and a flushed face

➠ you could never think he was a bad guy because he seemed so cute and genuine when he asked you out

➠ That was a mistake

➠ You agreeing to go out with him made his obsession with you a million times worse

➠ First time he went to your house he may have, or may have not, stolen your underwear and uh.. you could guess what he did with that when he went home.

➠ He just really likes your scent okay !!

➠ In front of you, he's a total sweetheart. Behind your back, he's fucking crazy

➠ the first time he killed someone was when a guy flirted with you after Myung-gi left you alone for just a moment

➠ something in him just snapped that day and that guy who had the audacity to come close to you was now in his room, tied up, and having his fingers cut off one by one

➠ Cut the guys tongue off as well before killing him because he wanted the guy to learn a lesson about daring to talk to his girl like that

➠ from then, he didn't shy away from killing people who even looked at you

➠ you were unaware about what he was up to because he was so very careful when cleaning up

➠ You didn't figure it out until it was far too late and he had you in the palm of his hand

➠ When he finally admits what he's done for you (or you find out and confront him), he's begging you to stay

➠ He'd really rather not hurt you at all

➠ But if you try to leave he's quick to knock you out

➠ absolutely does kidnap you and apologizes over and over again while saying that he's doing it for your own good

➠ overall, very protective and wants you all to himself

"I'm really sorry, baby, but you were trying to leave me," he spoke with an apologetic tone as his thumb gently stroked your cheek. Your hands and legs were bound to a chair as you struggled against it, tears filling your eyes. The sight made Myung-gi's heart ache but he knew this was for your own good. He couldn't let you leave him - not when you were soulmates. "Don't cry.. I'll keep you safe from everyone else,"

[wandixx]

Seriously chaotic fashion misadventures

I realized I posted a teaser and never really followed up on it, so here is some more of that

“Hey, Dami?”

Boy hadn’t looked up from the kittens he was bottle feeding but let out a hum indicating he listened.

“I'm thinking about trying out a more girlish style. Do you think it would suit me?”

Well, Damian had no idea but if Dani wished to give it a chance, then, well, the only proper reaction was to offer his aid.

*-*-*

“Father, I require access to your rouge gallery.”

Bruce almost choked on his breakfast when his youngest made this announcement.

Rouge gallery, as his children playfully called it, was vast collection of lipsticks, which he collected to uphold his Brucie persona. Famous playboy with head constantly in the clouds couldn’t not show up with discreet signs of scandal from time to time. And it couldn’t always be the same shade. Or scent when he choose more subtle approach and used one of his more feminine perfumes.

In all honesty, he enjoyed this.

But that’s not the point, point was that Damian wanted to use it and Bruce needed to know what disaster would fall upon him if he agreed.

“Mind telling me why, chum?”

Dick, who visited Manor for a weekend, barely stifled his laughter while Tim stared at his empty coffee mug like it personally betrayed him. Cass just wore her usual knowing and mischievous smile.

Damian shifted in his chair, hands clenching on butter knife. He was nervous and suddenly Bruce dreaded the answer he was about to hear.

“I don’t see how me sharing this information would change anything. It won’t be used to cause harm to anyone but it’s necessary in the extracurricular project I just started.”

“Dami, what project?” Dick asked, voice oozing with genuine curiosity and excitement. He was almost bouncing.

“I don’t want to disclose it.”

“Is this a hero or civilian type of deal?”

Damian didn’t look any of them in the eyes, both hands clenching on his seat as he kept shifting. Bruce narrowed his eyes. Was his youngest… flustered?

“Civilian”

“Alright, great” Dick swung back with single clap, almost tripping his chair over “I think B won’t have anything against you using his rouge gallery, will he?” Man knew his oldest son well enough to recognize his ‘don’t you dare to disagree’ tone. He was confused but there wasn’t any harm so he nodded with affirmative hum.

“Thank you, Father”

Boy practically inhaled rest of his food and rushed outside. Despite all his training and all his efforts, they clearly saw his excitement. Tim pinched himself and returned to staring at his mug.

“Cass, have you seen what I’ve seen or am I overreacting?” Dick asked, barely restraining his enthusiasm. Girl nodded eagerly, shoving more crumbs into her mouth. Young man cheered, throwing his hands up.

“What have I missed?” Tim mumbled, frowning a little.

“BABY BAT HAS A CRUSH!”

Cass nodded again with wide smile.

Oh.

Oh no.

Who were they? What did he know about them? Was Protocol 3r0s started? Did someone run a background check already? What could they do if they somehow hurt Damian? Was this person a risk to their identities? Oh gods, oh no.

He probably will have to do The Talk™.

He always dreaded having The Talk, with any of his kids. He felt The Talk with Damian would be even worse. Understandably so.

“Also sleep in at least three da-”

“Fuck off, dick.”

“Was this insult or-”

His children remained obvious to how much work it meant, cheering and sassing each other like they often did.

*-*-*

Damian did not know how it was possible but he lowered his guard enough to get caught.

"What are you doing?" Brown choked out after they stared at each other for a long moment.

"It does not concern you–"

"You're rummaging through my wardrobe, not many things concern me more and also, that's frickin creepy don't do it to anyone outside of the family"

She did have a point however he was not convinced it would be the correct approach if he shared his plan. Father's wards (even unofficial like Brown) tended to make assumptions and overreact based on these conjectures. Dani wasn't easy to scare off but he didn't want to check if his family would manage. They often did things thought to be impossible.

He tried to get away but the blonde stood fiercely in a door, leaving the window as the only way out. He wasn't this desperate. Yet.

Girl looked more and more angry at his silence. He had to give her some answers.

Now that he actually considered it, she could be a useful asset. She was far better versed in women's fashion and if he phrased it correctly, he wouldn't even need to bribe her. Question was, how should he phrase it?

"I have an acquaintance- I have a friend," he corrected himself "from the animal shelter I volunteer at. She mentioned wanting to try out more 'girlish style' and asked for my opinion. I wanted to see if you had any clothes that would fit her. She is smaller than me so I thought that whatever I take, it wouldn't be missed." 

Brown grinned with an unsettling gleam in her eyes. He suddenly regretted opening his mouth if not coming to this room in the first place. 

"Say no more, I have a plan Demon Child"