#I mean it’s could be better but it’s could have been worse!

[reidsmanuscript]

Seven Seconds

Summary: when Katie Jacob's gets abducted in a Mall, setting the clock for the BAU, who needs a legal favor, and it's been a year since the A.D.A. has know anything about Spencer Reid. Pairing: Spencer Reid x lawyer!reader Genre: pinning, SLOW BURN, maybe right moment?, angst bc i love angst wc: 4.6k! (i know so small comparing to part 1 bear with me) TW: cm canon typical violence, set in 05x3 "Seven seconds" (obviously lol), sexual violence, implied reader's dark past, glimpses of female rage. A/N: my idea for the serie is be taylor jenkins reid and have you question if lawyer reader exists or not (delusional bitch), english is not my first language and let's pretend it's proofread part I - part II - part III - part IV

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Spencer sat on the park bench reading a book while playing chess with Ethan, brilliant kid for his age and good opponent, not good enough though because when he cheered “I see checkmate in 5, What do you see?” It took Spencer one glance to calculate all the movements necessary.

“I see it in 3” he answered looking at his book again, the kid turned around the board and moved the pieces

“We've missed you out here” he said, staring at the board amazed.

“Thanks. I, uh, I had to take a little break”

“How come?” His hands froze on the book for a second before closing it.

Spencer had been clean for over a year now, it was 14 months and 2 weeks ago that he had freaked out after noticing his stash of Dialud was gone along with his needle. Where could he find more? Who knew about his addiction? Where was his stash? Who the fuck is Dr. Fitzgerald? Did you report him?

His first instinct was confronting you, given that you were the only person who found out his drugs that he knew, the first days he was a complete paranoid, he jumped every time Hotch called his name, or that Gideon looked at him a little too long.

At the end of the week he was thinking where he could find more, and when that thought scared him, he called the number of the card you had left in the same pocket his drugs used to be.

“Hello this is Dr. Fitzgerald” said a calm voice, it was 10 p.m. so there was a higher chance of going to voicemail, but he got an answer and the tremor of his hands got a little worse. Was it the anxiety or the withdrawal?

“Umm hello.. this is.. Dr.. this is Spencer Reid and someon-""I've been waiting for your call Dr Reid” the other line interrupted, he froze for a second.

“I used to play with a co-worker friend of mine. He's probably the best mind I ever went up against. One day, he just decided that he didn't want to play anymore.”

Fast forward, she helped him get clean and stay clean after Gideon left, getting tested regularly, and gave him the contact of the help group of FBI addicts. He was better, he was alive.

“So you gave up, too?”

“Just the opposite. I attempted to play Through every permutation of moves on a chessboard.”

“That's an infinite number of games.”

“It's not infinite. It's just- it's exponentially large.”

“You couldn't have played through them all.”

“There's an average of 40 moves per chess game, And I'll tell you something– the more I played, The more I realized that every single match every single chess game, Is really just a simple variation on the exact same theme. You know? It's aggressive opening, Patient mid-game, inevitable checkmate, And I realized why my friend quit. He was tired of repeating the same patterns And expecting a different outcome.”

“That's because you haven't come up on Fridays or Mondays in a while” the way his eyebrows went up along his voice tone made him feel like he knew something that he didn't.

His eyebrows furrowed “What do you mean?”

“There's this great player who comes around those days, she even brings the best pastries, and her games is similar to yours, always two or three moves ahead, she always beats everyone here… i think her boyfriend called her Buzz or something like that, like the Toy Story character”

“Buzz?… i don't really remember anyone with that nickname”

“It’s probably not that one but you don't know her because she started coming like 8 months ago.. I'm sure you have a lifetime of chess strategy in your head that you're just sitting on, but when you meet her?” He made a dramatic pause “You'll have to play it.”

He glances at his watch to realize his 15 minute break is coming to an end. “I still use it. I just, uh... I apply it differently. I have to go. It's good seeing you.”

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That evening, the BAU was called in for a local case—a little girl, Katie, had been kidnapped from a busy mall. A week earlier, another girl had been taken from the same location and found dead hours later. Now, they were all racing against the clock.

Katie’s parents were desperate. As any parents would be in this situation, right? But when Hotch asked the father if either of them was having an affair—a routine question in abductions—the man took offense. Deep offense. So much so that he refused to let the FBI search their house.

Now, what kind of parent refuses to help the police find their missing child?

In a small surveillance room, Morgan and Reid sat with Garcia, who was visibly frustrated by the mall’s ancient security system. They were surrounded by screens displaying grainy footage from different angles—well, almost every angle. They had a single glimpse of Katie in one video, and then, seven seconds later, she was gone.

JJ and Prentiss were with the mother, aunt, and uncle, trying to get a read on the family dynamic. Meanwhile, Morgan and Reid had conducted a cognitive interview with Katie’s cousin. It had led nowhere.

“The family has refused permission to search the house,” Hotch announced as he stepped into the room.

“What do you mean they denied?” Morgan’s frustration was evident. “Your only child goes missing, and you refuse to collaborate?”

No one disagreed. They were all thinking the same thing.

“The cousin didn’t say much,” Reid added. “He was too distracted in the game room to notice anything.”

Hotch exhaled sharply. “I’ll speak to the detectives, see if we can get a warrant.” His tone was firm, but they all knew time wasn’t on their side.

Garcia adjusted her glasses. “Sir, I mean this in the best way possible, but it’s almost 8 p.m. I don’t think-”

“I’ll handle it,” Morgan interrupted.

All Reid and Garcia turned to him with identical looks. What do you mean you will handle it?

Hotch’s eyebrows furrowed, but after a moment, he gave a small nod and walked away. Morgan was already pulling out his phone.

“I have a contact,” he explained, dialing.

He put the phone on speaker. It rang once. Twice. On the third ring, a voice answered—sharp, direct, and all business.

“A.D.A. Woodvale.”

Reid went rigid.

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It was late in the office; most people had already gone home, including your assistant Molly. All but Austin, who was still there because he had a lead on one of your cases. You knew he was still hanging around because, over a year ago, when someone had snuck into your office to harm you, you’d become a little paranoid. You’d gotten better, but Austin insisted on keeping you company, especially since your car was in the mechanic’s.

You were reviewing a legal brief, pen in hand, skimming the margins to jot down notes when the desk phone rang. Without looking up, you hit the speaker button with the tip of the pen.

“A.D.A. Woodvale.”

There was a beat of silence before a familiar voice cut in—smooth, direct, urgent.

Morgan called your name “Hey. We need a warrant. Fast.” You blinked, setting the pen down.

Reid and Garcia exchanged glances as Morgan jumped in without hesitation.

“Katie Jacobs. Eight years old. Abducted from a mall earlier tonight,” Morgan started, all business. “Another girl was taken from the same place a week ago—she was found dead hours later. We’re working against the clock.”

You frowned, swirling the pen, going through the multiple scenarios. You had heard about last week’s case, and how slow the police had moved back then.

“We’ve got mall surveillance footage,” Morgan pressed. “At first, we thought she just vanished, but Garcia finally pulled something from one of the side corridors. Katie wasn’t taken by force—she was walking calmly with someone.”

Your fingers tightened slightly around her pen. “Someone she knows.”

“Exactly,” Morgan confirmed. “That narrows it down to family or close acquaintances.” They all shared a silent thought. Family.

We know they’re hiding something,” Morgan corrected. “We just don’t have the probable cause to kick the door down.”

Garcia watched as Morgan paced slightly, his tone firm but urgent.

“That’s thin, Morgan,” Your voice came through the speaker, steady and unyielding.

“We don’t have time for airtight,” Morgan countered.

Your jaw tightened. “You don’t have time for me to get laughed out of a judge’s office, either. Refusing a search isn’t a crime, and suspicion alone doesn’t cut it. I need more.” You understood where the suspicious came from, how are you supposed to help them if they had nothing?

There was a pause. A beat of silence. Then, another voice—one you hadn’t heard in over a year.

“99% of abducted children who are killed due within the first 24 hours” He cleared his throat, willing his voice to stay even. Spencer Reid. “75% within the first 3 hours, and what only law enforcement knows is Jessica Davis joined the 44% of children who are abducted and killed within the first hour. We’re already past the three-hour mark. If we don’t act now, statistically speaking—”

“The likelihood of recovery drops exponentially,” You sighed, already standing up, ignoring how his voice sounded. So different. So… clean.

Your gaze flicked to the clock. 8:06 p.m. Damn it.

You grabbed a blank warrant form from her drawer and reached for a pen. “Send me the address and everything else you have. Give me 20 minutes.”

Click. You didn’t have time for goodbyes.

Austin raised an eyebrow from his seat. “Guess you’re not going home anytime soon.”

You didn’t look up as you started writing. “I never was.”

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The courthouse was mostly deserted at this hour. The fluorescent lights hummed quietly, and the stillness of the evening was only interrupted by the sharp click of your heels on the polished floors followed by Austin’s boots toward the judge’s chambers.

“You sure you don’t want me to take this one? Sweet-talk her maybe?” he teased.

You shot him a look. “You think Judge Holloway is the type to be charmed? Plus, you’re a private investigator, not a lawyer.”  

“She’s not gonna like you showing up this late.”  

You didn’t miss a beat. “If she’s still up, she’ll make time for this.”  

Taking a steadying breath as you stopped in front of the door, you quickly ran through your notes, making sure you had every detail in order. Then, without hesitation, you pushed through the heavy wooden doors of Judge Evelyn Holloway’s chambers.  

Inside, the judge barely glanced up from her paperwork. “You have two minutes, Woodvale.”

Stepping forward, you set the warrant request on the desk. “Your Honor, I apologize for the late hour, but we have a child abduction case we’re working against the clock. A young girl, Katie Jacobs, was taken from a mall over three hours ago. We’ve obtained surveillance footage showing her walking with an individual—someone she likely knows. We believe the family is withholding information, and they’ve refused to allow us to search the residence.”

The judge narrowed his eyes, folding her hands on the desk. “And what do you propose I do about it? What evidence do you have to warrant a search?”

Alex kept her voice steady. “We have footage of the girl with someone who wasn’t a stranger, Your Honor. The parents are refusing cooperation, and the father was evasive when asked about possible affairs, which raises red flags about his involvement.”

Holloway sighed, leaning back in her chair. “That’s thin.” You were ready for that.

“I have the full footage from the mall security, including a timestamp showing the precise time the girl went missing. She is last seen walking calmly with someone she knows, most likely family.”

There was a brief pause, and for a second, you thought you were about to lose her. So you pulled Reid’s words from memory, adjusting them just enough to make them your own.

“Time is working against us. Statistics show that 99% of abducted children who are murdered lose their lives within the first 24 hours 75% within just the first three. And only law enforcement-”

She cut you off with a raised hand, signaling you to stop.

The judge exhaled through her nose, it was late and you were rambling about statistics and you knew she wanted you out as soon as possible when you started citing numbers. So pushing himself out of her chair with a slight groan. “Fine. Get me the paperwork. I’ll sign it—but you better have your ducks in a row.”

You nodded, her demeanor unflinching. “Thank you, Your Honor.”

As you turned to leave, you couldn’t help but feel the weight of the hours ahead of you. But you were used to this—fighting against the clock.

“Let’s move,” motioning to Austin. He gave you a small nod. “You got it.”

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Exactly 15 minutes after the call, 5 minutes earlier than promised, Morgan’s phone rang. He answered it without even looking. 

"You got your warrant. I'll meet you there," Alex’s voice came through, crisp and businesslike, just as expected.

Morgan exhaled, his relief barely hidden. "Thank you, Woody."

He paused for a moment before adding, "I owe you one," then hung up, turning to Reid.

“Tell Hotch we’re heading to the Jacobs’ house,” he instructed, already moving toward the door.

Spencer had been timing her. It wasn’t the first time he'd gotten caught up in the tense waiting game of law and order, but the pressure of it had a different weight today. The memory of your voice, clear and resolute, echoed in his mind, sharper than before.

For Reid, part of getting clean wasn't just the physical withdrawal—it was the emotional weight of confronting his mistakes. The memory of how he'd lashed out at you a year ago still haunted him. How could he have been so cruel? The hurt in your eyes, the way he dismissed you, the way it all spiraled… it wasn’t just the drugs that had made him say those things. And the fury he saw when you looked at him, Dialuid in hand, how you looked like a timing bomb when he was trying to see if he could talk to you, the tension in your shoulders, the lock in your jaw, the grip on the file. He’d been battling so much more since then, in his mind, you saved his life by doing what he couldn't do.

He’d rather die than relive that moment again, than say those things. And yet, here he was, standing in the middle of another chaotic case, still carrying that guilt with him. He stayed behind Morgan for just a beat before pushing down his feelings and moving quickly. 

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The engine of Austin's bike rumbled to a stop as they pulled up in front of the house, where Morgan and Reid were standing in front of the black SUV. You slid off the back with practiced ease, taking off the helmet and letting your hair fall loose.

Austin followed your lead, taking his helmet off with a groan. “So, what exactly are we looking for?”

You shot him a quick, sidelong glance, handing him the helmet, keeping your expression flat knowing he’s about to be a drama queen. “You’re not coming inside. The warrant’s for FBI and police only. Not P.I.s included”

Austin paused, a mock pout crossing his face. “Excuse me? I just got you here, through all that traffic, risking myself to get a speeding ticket and now I don’t get to search? This is the second time in the night that you P.I. shaming me. Do you hate me?”

“If I hated you I wouldn’t have bailed your ass out of jail… twice” you remark the last part. He had a talent for sticking his foot where he shouldn’t be, maybe that’s what makes him good at his job.

“You act like you wouldn’t do it a third time” he was mocking, but he was right, something you would never admit to him. 

You start walking to the house “Mhm.” you hum rolling your eyes, heading towards where Morgan and Reid were. 

You didn't expect him to be there, or maybe you did, maybe you wanted to see him and know what had happened to him since the last time you saw him. They were looking at you, Morgan with a curious already-profiling-you stare, while Reid expression was more… cautious. He looked so different, his cheekbones were prominent in an attractive way and not sickly, he had put on some healthy weight and was not fidgety. You were not mad anymore, because of course at the moment the hurt had turned into rage like it always does for you, but it was more because of phantoms than anything else. 

“Got your golden ticket” you said, avoiding Reid’s gaze as you pulled the warrant from the inner pocket of your gray coat and swung it toward them.

Morgan nodded “You staying?” He gestured with his head to Austin who was leaving.

“I have to make sure you find something, otherwise the judge will have my head for this,” you said dryly, shrugging as though the threat didn’t bother you, but there was a flicker of seriousness behind your words. You were only talking to him, which felt rude because Reid’s stare was locked in your profile. 

Reid was thinking how pretty you looked, how the black vest suited you, and he couldn’t ignore the fact you had changed your brown bag to a black one that looked nothing like his. Your white shirt and gray coat gave you an older, wiser look, but as Reid analyzed your features, he realized he didn’t even know how old you were. You couldn’t be older than him. Serious, sharp, and young... How was it possible for someone that young to be the A.D.A.?

Reid’s mind couldn’t let go of the numbers. The average age of an Assistant District Attorney in the U.S. is 36. You couldn’t be older than 25, and yet you were already in that position.

You glanced at him for a moment before stepping inside the house, feeling the weight of his stare. The look made him snap out of his trance-like state, and of course, his eidetic memory hated him, because for that brief second, he remembered how you had looked at him a year ago.

Morgan nodded and thanked you again before he and Reid walked into the house. You left the warrant on the hall table with a deliberate touch, your fingers lingering for just a moment—as if to remind yourself that you weren’t entirely done with this.

“Somebody lit a fire last night,” you heard Reid say.

“Well, there are dirty dishes for three in the kitchen, so they eat together as a family.” Morgan’s voice carried from the other room as they moved through the house, taking in the details.

If Katie was in danger, the signs wouldn’t be in plain sight. You had to look where they hid—where children kept their secrets. Their bedrooms.

“Hey, my favorite movie from when I was a kid.” Reid held up a DVD, turning it in his hands before pulling it from the player just as you passed by him, tugging on latex gloves before heading upstairs, you did feel a little guilty for not even looking or talking to him, but it was something you did unconsciously. 

“So they watch movies together, too,” Morgan mused. They were starting to build a picture of the family’s dynamic.

“By a fireplace in a house that’s straight out of a catalog,” Reid added. “Norman Rockwell couldn’t have painted this any cozier.”

“That’s what worries me.” There was weight in Morgan’s voice. A tension that sat between them.

Upstairs, you searched through the rooms with careful precision.

When you first became a lawyer, you made a promise—never ignore a sign. Since then, you have gone further. You didn’t just refuse to ignore them; you searched for them. Hollow eyes. Unexplained bruises. Small bloodstains. You looked for them in teenagers, in young adults, in the elderly. But nothing—nothing—was more painful than a child who couldn’t speak up.

Because they were small. Because someone older, someone stronger, was hurting them. There's nothing more hurtful than not being able to speak out, to say something and stand up for yourself. Except when someone did—someone saw the bruises, the fear, the signs—and they looked away deliberately. Because a child’s pain was inconvenient. Because it came with a mountain of paperwork no one wanted to touch.

You had spent your whole life making sure you never looked away.

That’s why you were hunched over the small desk in Katie’s bedroom, flipping through her drawings when Morgan and Reid entered the room. They started searching, their movements efficient and methodical.

“Katie’s been wetting her bed,” Reid said as he lifted the duvet, inspecting the mattress beneath it.

“A lot of six-year-olds do. Could be bad dreams,” Morgan replied, crouching beside you as he sifted through a pile of toys.

You considered that possibility—it was perfectly logical. In a perfect world.

“Some kids won’t get up at night because they’re afraid of the dark,” Reid added, his tone careful. Almost knowing.

“Or it could be a lot more complex than that.”

Morgan had found a doll. Not a Barbie missing a shoe or one that had simply been played with too much. No—this doll was different.

Its hair had been hacked off, jagged strands sticking out unevenly. Red marker smeared across its face like smeared blood. Its clothes were yanked askew, twisted, and wrong.

“Most girls covet their dolls like an extension of themselves.” He took the doll in his hands like it was made of fine glass. 

“Reid, I know these signs-— acting out on her toys, wetting the bed. She's obviously covering up something about that necklace.”

“And her cousin might be holding something back.”

“Well, this looks more like a man than a boy to me,” you said, holding up a drawing of a tall, shadowy figure towering over a small, crying child.

Morgan took it from your hands, his expression hardening as he analyzed the image.

“Psychology says drawing is a child’s way of channeling their inner world. Look at the strokes—how harsh they are,” you pointed to the dark, jagged lines forming the tall figure, then traced your finger over the smaller one. “And this looks like Katie to me. She forgot to draw the hands, which means she feels powerless… helpless.” 

Morgan took his phone out, dialing up “Hotch, we think Katie’s being molested,” Morgan said, his voice clipped. “And we both know the odds.”

A brief silence. Then Hotch’s response, firm and certain. “Most likely by someone under the same roof.”

He hung up, and both men started toward the door, their movements brisk with purpose. But you stayed behind for a moment, rooted in place, taking in the scene. Trying to quiet the distant sirens that echoed in your mind, the same ones always shouting when you were face to face with these situations. A loud pause—maybe out of respect for Katie and her pain, for everything she had been forced to endure.

From the doorway, Spencer glanced back. The dim light from the hallway cast your figure in stark contrast, outlining you in shadow—your form dark against the soft glow of the room. He couldn’t see your expression, couldn’t read your face. He focused on the way your hands curled into fists at your sides, the tight set of your shoulders.

And he wished—just for a second—that he could see more.

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You stood outside, leaning against the wall, arms crossed tightly over your chest. By your side were Morgan, Jeremy, Katie’s cousin, and Reid.

Turns out, Katie’s uncle, Richard, was her abuser. A disgusting son of a bitch who deserved to rot in hell. And you were going to make sure he did. He had destroyed Katie’s childhood, probably more than just hers, shattering an entire family in the process. His own son, standing right next to you, was collateral damage he clearly hadn’t spared a thought for. And then there was his wife. The woman who had chosen to look away. Who had taken Katie and nearly gotten her killed, all for the pathetic, desperate hope that it would somehow stop her husband from creeping into little bedrooms at night. She deserved the same hell he did.

A stretcher rolled past, Katie’s small frame barely visible beneath the blankets as the paramedics guided her into the ambulance. Her mother clutched her tiny hand, whispering something—words meant to soothe, to promise safety.

A young voice cut through the air. “I heard her call my mom’s name. That’s what I remembered before.”

You closed your eyes, your mind already racing ahead. Your attorney brain was piecing it together, sketching out the battle that was coming. If the kid had heard it, that made him a witness to the abduction. His own mother had committed the crime against her niece. And God only knew what else he had seen—what else had been happening in that house—without fully understanding it.

“We get it, kid. That’s your mom,” Morgan said, his voice steady. But you knew the truth: if Jeremy could barely say those words to them, getting him to the stand in front of a jury would be another fight entirely.

The boy shifted on his feet, staring at the ambulance. “What’s gonna happen to me now?”

If God existed, He had already been too cruel. He had let all of this happen. And you knew how these things worked—knew there was a very real chance that Katie’s parents, burdened with their own grief, would resent Jeremy by association. That they wouldn’t take him in. That he would be swallowed by the foster system.

You wouldn’t let that happen.

The sirens blared outside the mall, cutting through the air with urgency, but it was the ones inside your mind that were louder—screaming in the same rhythm, as if they were one and the same. Distant and deafening, they filled every corner of your head, drowning out everything but the grim reality unfolding before you.

“I don’t know, Jeremy,” Reid answered, his voice gentle. “But we’re gonna make sure you’re alright, okay?”

Jeremy didn’t look at him. His eyes stayed fixed on the ambulance. “Is Katie gonna be all right?”

You wished—desperately, violently—that you could tell him yes. That you could say it with certainty and make it true. But how could you give him something you didn’t have?

“She will, eventually,” Morgan said, his voice firm.

You exhaled sharply. The words made your skin crawl.

“Is she?” The question slipped from your lips before you could stop it—low, bitter, nearly spat out under your breath. Just quiet enough that the kid wouldn’t hear. Just loud enough that Morgan did.

Before he could respond, you were already moving.

Your feet carried you toward the police car, toward the sick, selfish bastard they were shoving into the backseat. Your hand shot out, slamming the door closed—harder than necessary, just enough that it cracked against Richard’s face.

Morgan watched. So did Spencer.

And for the first time, he realized just how much of a puzzle you really were.

Partially because, throughout all of this, you hadn’t looked at him once. Not when he entered the room, not when he spoke, not even now, standing just a few feet away.

Partially because your eyes, when he finally caught a glimpse of them, were full of something he rarely saw outside of a case like this. Pure, undiluted rage.

Not just anger. Not just frustration. Something deeper. Something personal.

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[emsdevs]

The Return

Bear and Bug 🐻🐞

a/n: surprise!! kirby talked me into splitting this part up, so you all get one more part of the main conflict after this!! enjoy!!!

masterlist | NHL Masterlists | Bear and Bug Masterlist

Three weeks had passed since you arrived at Cole’s place, and he’s been trying everything under the sun to get you to return to the lake house with him. Today, after getting out of bed, you find out he’s pulled out the big guns. When you walk into the living room, you’re met with not only Cole but also Trevor and Alex. Apparently, Cole had filled them in on the situation, and they changed their flights to Montreal to come help. 

“C’mon. It can’t be that bad. I know for a fact Jack misses you,” Trevor is currently trying to encourage you to come with them, your packed suitcase sitting beside him. At some point during the night, they had snuck into your room and packed your bags, leaving you with no “good” excuse not to go with them.

“You talked to him?” your head shoots toward Trevor, hope filling your eyes. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as you thought.

“...No,” he looks toward the ground as he speaks, “but! I know Jack, and I know he’s probably falling apart at the seams if you two haven’t talked in three weeks. You’re his person. He’s probably dying right now.”

“Oh, great. I’m killing my best friend! This is exactly what I was worried about when Quinn and I got together. He’s been having such a tough time, and I’ve made it a hundred times worse. I’ll be lucky if he ever talks to me again.”

“You’re right. She is being dramatic,” Alex whispers to Cole before stepping forward to try to comfort you. “Look, sweetheart, the only way to make this any better is to bite the bullet. I know you’re scared, but you can’t keep running away from it.”

You were silent for a moment, shocked by the wisdom from Alex. After gathering your thoughts, you spoke, “You’re right. Let me go be sure you all got everything, and then we can head out.”

“No way that worked,” Cole couldn’t believe their plan worked in their favor.

“Bro, when did you become a shrink?”

~~

The tension at the lake house was higher than ever. Ellen and Jim had given up on trying to help their sons work out their issues, so they drove back home for a while, letting the boys stew in their anger. The boys had done nothing except that. Quinn and Luke silently shared an alliance while Jack either ignored them completely or began picking fights. 

“Hope you two are ready to go running back to your precious Bug,” Jack told the other two boys as he walked to the kitchen to grab a snack.

“What do you mean?” Luke answered, sass written all over his question.

“Trev just texted me. He, Alex, and Cole just boarded their flight. With Bug.”

“She’s coming back?” Quinn couldn’t hide the hope in his voice. He didn’t care how Jack felt anymore. He was miserable, and he needed his Bug. 

“Don’t get all excited. That doesn’t mean she’s getting back together with you,” Jack rolled his eyes.

“Don’t tell me you think she’s coming back for you,” Luke doesn’t even attempt to hide the sneer in his voice.

“She’s my best friend, Lukey. Of course, she’s coming back to get in my good graces.” 

“Are you kidding me? Look at how you’ve been treating her, Jack! We’re all lucky she’s even coming back at all!” Quinn is angry now. You’ve probably been hurting more than he has for the past three weeks, and Jack is acting all high and mighty like you’ll come crawling back to him. As far as Quinn is concerned, you don’t need to come crawling back to anybody. If anything, the three of them owe you an apology.

“Of course, you’re sticking up for her! God, she has you wrapped around her finger! You’re so whipped you can’t see that she’s the problem here!”

“No, you don’t get to do that. You know Quinn is right. You’ve been horrible to her, and she deserves an apology. From all of us, honestly. Jesus, I mean, she even put you’re feelings above her happiness. She and Quinn could have been so happy, but you were complaining about how horrible the NHL is every night, so her main concern was protecting you. Mind you, you are not one of the two people in that relationship, so the fact she took your feelings about it into account at all is a kind of grace that you obviously don’t deserve. Why don’t you get down from your high horse and think about everything Bug has done for you? Then, you can tell us if she’s the one that needs to apologize or not,” Luke doesn’t give Jack time to answer, walking off as soon as he finishes his speech. Quinn doesn’t hesitate in following, only giving Jack a sharp look before making his way to your room once again. He found Luke already there, so they sat on your bed together, putting on a movie and soon falling asleep.

Jack, now alone in the living room, takes the time to do as Luke said. He thought back to when he knew you’d be his best friend forever. You two had silently agreed to have separate friend groups at school, but when you saw Jack’s friends had left him alone one day at lunch, you left your friends to go sit with him. They stopped talking to you after that, but you were fine with it because you had Jack. He thought about everything you had sacrificed for him, even skipping out on joining an afterschool club because it would conflict with some of his game times. How many times had you put Jack first, even when you could’ve had something really good for you if you had put yourself first? He could think of at least one: Quinn. He’s a horrible best friend. 

Jack lost track of how long he sat there, losing himself in his thoughts that were slowly becoming more and more self-deprecating, but before he knew it, he heard the front door opening. Moments later, he jumps to his feet when he sees you walk into the living area.

“Hey,” he says, slightly out of breath.

“Hey.”

taglist: @heartsforjh @devilinpradaheels @coldheartedmar @juxmi @puckmedude @alexxavicry @dancerbailey3 @hockey43 @madebyhappymeals @ccomandercody @kirajessie @beenucks @iamspeed6

join the taglist

[konjiang]

Cumplane Library au

Sy was in the Library studying when he saw that PIDW just had a new update, he almost couldn't contain himself and started fuming from anger. Thankful no one else beside the library staff was here right now.

He quickly craft up the most vile and disrespectful review post, and hit send before anyone else even left a comment. Some may say his dedication to hating on Airplane was obsessive and unhealthy, but his hands shake with fury every time he read a new chapter. If he didn't do something, he would probably get sick from the repressed feeling.

After spurring out all his hatred towards Airplane in the post, he resumed studying for his class. Right when he was about to put in his earbuds and to start playing some lofi, he heard a quiet chuckle from behind him. The quiet library staff was staring at him and trying to hide his laughter.

The burning in his face was sure to set the library on fire with how hot he felt. He couldn't believe that someone witness him in his lowest form. He quickly got up and packed his laptop away, planning on dying from embarrassment in the safety of his room.

'This is all that fucking dumb hack author's fault!' He practically ran to the door, but the door wouldn't open now matter how he pulled or pushed. He had no choice to turn around and pretend like nothing happened.

He tried to nonchalantly go back to his seat, but a pair of brown eyes followed his movement. When he crossed over the front desk, the guy abruptly stand up and smiled at him.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to laugh at you like that. It was that you were so funny getting mad at the novel you were reading." He had brown curly hair, dimples on both side of his face, a ponytail, and a innocent looking face. Sy thought that this guy looked exactly like what he thought LBH looked like.

"That door is currently shut because of construction. A lot of people have been trying to open it all day, but they never read the sign I put up." the LBH lookalike sighed, and SY turned his head and saw that there was indeed a piece of paper tape to the door, but in his flustered state, he couldn't bother to read it.

"Oh. Thanks..." Sy mumbled out, this day was getting worse by the second.

"What were you reading?" the innocent looking guy asked. Sy couldn't tell him, he couldn't be the one to ruin this guy's innocent.

"Just some webnovel." SY deflected, wanting this conversation to end already.

"Oh really?" They guy bounced a bit as he leaned forward causing his ponytail to sway slightly, "I like web novels too, which one were you reading?" SY stared at the guy's doe eyes, noting that he was definitely not as tall as LBH, since he was shorter than SY.

'He would look great cosplaying white lotus LBH.' Sy thought, but he didn't want to entertain that idea at all because his brain kindly provided him with all the sex scenes from varies chapters of PIDW.

"It's not really popular, so I don't think you'll like it." Sy stood there in agony when the cute guy looked at him disappointedly.

"Oh...okay. Sorry for bothering you."

'Fuck! Why can't god just strike me down right now.' Sy impulsively ripped out a piece of paper from his binder and wrote down his number.

"Here, I can recommend you some better novel. Just text me your preferences." Sy said coldly, trying to regain his composure.

"Really? Thank you!" The guy excitedly whispered as a group of student walked in. Sy took this chance to blend in with the crowd and leave when the guy was preoccupied with others.

'Ah fuck. If I ever met that dumbass author. I'm beating the shit out of him.'

--

As a university library worker, he seen a lot of things throughout his shifts. But he would never expect to find Peerless Cucumber reading the latest chapter in the library. Is it shame on him for posting it when he was working or shame on Cucumber for reading it in a public place.

He type in the phone number and saved it in his phone. His shift was about to end and he could fully plan out how to mess with Cucumber afterwards.

"Luo Binghe, you're free to go."

"Thanks" Luo Binghe, or more infamously known as Airplane, skipped out of the library while humming to himself.

[86espresso]

CONGRATULATIONS! Could I please have:

crashing their date with another person purposely

^ and it all was definitely out of spite. not because they were jealous. never. totally not.

with Quinn Hughes please!

thank you so much!! and ty for requesting <3

There is not one person on god’s green earth who makes your eye twitch more than Quinn Hughes.

The only tie you have to him is being his coach’s daughter, which means you’re not supposed to see each other a lot, but you have to because you live in the same building.

On the same floor. Across from each other.

It’s been snarky remarks and banging on each other’s doors with noise complaints ever since.

You would think he’d respect you because of who your father was to him, but no. He just couldn’t stand you the same way you couldn’t stand him.

Your day was going smoothly; you got off work, came home and took a nice bath, and got ready for your date. He seemed like a lovely guy and things were going well.

You checked the time to see that you were late and hurriedly shoved your necessities in your purse and speed walked out of your apartment, quickly stopping in front of the mirror to fix your hair. You fumbled with the keys while locking your door, breathing out in relief when you heard the lock click.

The elevator doors opened up to reveal Quinn. His hair was damp and falling onto his forehead, his black shirt stuck to him in the right places, and his gym shorts were short. As fuck.

He gave you a sideways once-over, taking in your appearance without shame as he walked out of the elevator. “Nice kicks.”

You furrow your brows in confusion, looking down at your stilettos. “Thanks?”

He laughs as he walks away and the doors close, and it should feel ridiculing, but a weird part of you was convinced that he tried to give you a compliment.

Key word: tried.

[•••]

The date was going fine. It wasn’t great, since he was a little cold with you because you were five minutes late, but it got better as he had a few glasses of wine.

“What a coincidence.” Your eyes bulged out of your head when you heard Quinn’s all-too-cheery tone. Both yours and your date’s eyes traveled to Quinn, who materialized in del t of your booth.

“Quinn, what the actual fuck are you—”

“I was hoping to catch you somewhere around here, you left too early y’know.” He fakes a pout.

“What is he talking about?” Your date directs the question at you.

“Yes, Quinn, enlighten us, please.” You glared daggers into his unfazed eyes.

“Nah, that’s not important. What is, though,” he pauses to pull something out of his pocket, “is this.”

Your jaw drops as he pulls out one of your rings from his pocket. You must’ve dropped it during your rush to leave.

And just when you thought it wouldn’t get worse, “you left it at my apartment, thought you’d want it back.” He laid it in front of you as your date’s face slowly contorted to anger and he slammed his napkin down on his plate.

“Listen—” you start. Your date holds his hand up.

“I don’t want to hear it.”

Quinn watches triumphantly as he stomps out of the restaurant like a child. You put your head in your hands. “It gets to a point, Quinn.”

He shrugs and flops down to where your date just sat, picks up a breadstick and takes a bite. “Damn, these are good,” he swallows, “and I saved you by the way. He had bad juju or negative aura or whatever the kids say these days.” Another bite. You feel it. The undeniable twitch of your eye.

You see his point, though. The man made you feel lesser than for being a few minutes late and was quick to storm out without giving you the chance to explain yourself.

“That still doesn’t mean you can just crash my date, Quinn— how did you even find me?”

“I followed you after I found your ring.”

“You’re so—” you sigh, unable to find the words.

There’s a beat of silence.

You groan loudly, all of a sudden, startling Quinn and making him pause mid dip. “What?”

“I’ll have to pay for all of this.” You gesture at the food in front of you.

Quinn waves his hand once. “Nah. I got it.” You’re confused for the second time that night, your mouth open but no words coming out. “What kind of guy takes someone to Olive Garden for a date, anyway?”

“The kind that’s classy enough to not compliment me with ‘nice kicks’.” You smirk, leaning back and crossing your arms.

He rolls his eyes. “Be grateful, being nice to you for free is painful.”

You laugh for the first time that night, slipping your ring on your finger.

“You do look pretty nice, though.”

[thatonetargaryen]

No Tears Ricochet

Sevika x Reader

Alternate Ending of: My Tears Ricochet

Synopsis: After you catch your wife, Ambessa, in the act of ruining your marriage—you decide to visit the Last Drop for a release. Or, in other words, drowning yourself in alcohol. However, a certain woman suggests that there are better ways of relieving yourself.

cw; afab!reader; mentions of infidelity; alcohol consumption; rough sex; face riding; strap use; biting; Sevika is a warning as a whole…; not proofread; men and minors dni

Special thanks to @hell0-ki55y for original prompt. Hope you enjoy! 🎀

…….

You looked at Mel from across the room as she powdered and sprayed her face. She had just got done comforting you for an embarrassing amount of time after what her mother, your wife, Ambessa had done.

Never in a million years would you think she’d do something like that—to you. The vows you had taken before the preacher all those years ago started blurring years ago. However, it seemed they had finally started to deteriorate.

The paramour Ambessa had perched on her lap flashed in your mind. She’d probably purchased the twink from some underground brothel in Piltover. The brothels there were very secretive, and you’d have to get through a few people to even access one. However, the ones in Zaun were out in the open, and anything but secretive.

Zaun. The thought of the place sparked a thought in your mind. It had been years since you visited the place, and from what’d you heard, the place had just gotten worse throughout the years.

However, one key thing that stuck in your mind was a bar. You couldn’t remember the name, or where it was, but you remembered the feeling. The atmosphere, the smiles and warmth everyone shared, the strong taste of the ale on your tongue. And, right now, you craved a little bit of warmth.

You were pulled from your thoughts as your step-daughter laid a hand on your shoulder. Her smile was soft yet cautious—as if the slightest move might break you.

“I’m going to see Jayce now. Are you sure you don’t need me here?”

You nodded your head as you grip her hand in yours. “I’ll be fine, Mel. I might go have a little bit of fun myself.”

Mel’s eyes widened a little bit. She gave you a sly smile, “Well, you better pick up your phone if I call you.”

You playfully pinched the skin on her forearm, “Oh, hush. I am a woman grown. But if you call me, I’ll pick up.”

The both of you shared a laugh, before you pulled her into your arms for what seemed like the hundredth time that night. “Be safe, my love. And don’t do anything you’ll regret.”

Mel leaned into your embrace, catching the underlying meaning in your words. She internally rolled her eyes, but heeded your advice. “You too, Mum.”

And with that, she threw her purse on her shoulder and walked out of the room. You sighed at her absence, but the feeling of her warmth would soon be replaced by someone unexpected—yet welcomed.

…..

The streets of Zaun were alive and buzzing at this time of night. It was no doubt dirty, and you could smell the fumes through your mask. You pulled forward the hood on your head, and held yourself tighter.

The place hadn’t changed much since when you’d last visited it. The air was still muggy, and the people were still as rude and selfish as ever, not that it was any better than Piltover. At least people here had a reason to be like that.

Your eyes darted around you. You surveyed anyone and everyone closely, not wanting to get caught off guard.

You breathed a sigh of relief as you were finally met with the neon lights of the place you walked far and wide for, The Last Drop.

You stepped inside and you the first thing you noticed was the heat that circulated throughout the place. The smell and alcohol, drugs, and sweat evaded your nose and you grimaced.

The bar across the establishment was calling your name, and you answered its call. You got comfortable in one of the beat-up black leather chairs. It was a little wobbly, but you didn’t mind it.

The man behind the bar worked tirelessly as he dried and shined the glasses. His skin was tan and his dark brown eyes moved skillfully as he made the drinks. It was a stark difference from the man you saw just years prior—his skin lighter and his frame even burlier—but you didn’t dwell on it for long.

The two of you made eye contact, and he immediately turned and made his way to you. “So, what can I get you?”

You hesitated for a second, your mind short-circuited. You saw no sign of a menu anywhere. “Um…what do you have?”

His eyes darted at your words, noticing your slight accent. Despite where you were originally from, living in Noxus for over twenty years heavily influenced how you sounded today. Especially since you had to speak some of the language almost daily.

He looked at you skeptically, “We have whiskey, beer, wine, y’know….what a bar would usually have…”

You were slightly taken aback at his words, not expecting to be talked to like that. You didn’t remember when someone had given you that much attitude—given your position and the power you hold. And who your wife was.

Your wife.

The thought of her churned your stomach like spoiled milk. Your mood dimmed as the thought of her came to mind. You cleared your throat after an awkward moment of silence, “One shot of whiskey, please. No ice.”

He nodded. “Good, cause’ we ain’t got ice anyway.”

You rolled your eyes at his words as you watched him fill a shot glass with whiskey. The bronze liquid poured into the cup gracefully, and you were momentarily distracted by the sight of it.

The sound of the glass gliding across the table and towards you broke your trance. You nodded at the bartender in thanks, but he didn’t acknowledge it as he moved on to the next customer.

You studied the drink for a moment too long, internally not trusting it.

“You gonna babysit that shot all night?”

You looked up from your drink at the sound of a rough, yet calm voice. You were met with a tall, muscular woman with low, dark eyes. Her jet black hair was pulled into a messy bun behind her head, and her black lips were pulled into a sly smirk. She was gorgeous, yet her physique told you she was a force to be reckoned with. You straighten up, trying to make yourself appear less fragile, but the effort only seemed to amuse her.

You turned back ground in your seat, attempting to ignore her presence. But her eyes bore into the side of your head like lasers, and you fight the urge to kick her wear it hurts.

“So, what brings you to Zaun?”, she asked.

Your breath hitched. How’d she know you weren’t from here? You’d dressed in the most dingy and boring clothes you owned, hoping nobody would notice who you really were.

She noticed your surprised look and scoffed, “Oh, you didn’t think throwing on some raggedy clothes would make you look like one of us, did you? I could smell the Piltie on you from a mile away.”

You rolled your eyes at her remark, and before you could think about what you were about to say, you spoke, “I’m actually from Noxus, thank you very much.”

The woman’s smug look turned to one of surprise—and soon realization—as she recognized your voice. She had seen you before, representing Noxus and your original house in a meeting held in Piltover’s walls. You had defended Zaun’s independence and had buildings rebuilt, ones that were once invaded and destroyed by Enforcers. Your name was spoken in Zaun with great recognition, yet suspicion all the same, not knowing your true intentions.

“Y/N?”, she spoke, almost in a whisper.

Your lips clamped shut as you held your coat tighter. You mentally slapped your forehead.

Her once smug smile returned again, “Hm. Seeing the wife of a warlord was definitely not on my bingo card for this week…”

You sighed in annoyance, wishing she’d just go away. “Look, it’s been a long day. I just came here for a release and a good drink. I don’t have time for—”

“A release, huh?”, she interrupted.

You stopped, taken slightly aback.

Her smile widened as she finally took a seat right next to you, “Next drink’s on me. Name’s Sevika by the way.”

…..

Sevika threw you against the wall, and the throbbing in the back of your head was quickly replaced with a large, rough hand cradling it.

Sevika’s lips crashed into yours with an intensity like no other. Your tongues fought for dominance, her ultimately winning. She grinded her body against you, and her heat radiated from her body to yours.

She picked you up, and you wrapped your legs around her. She broke the kiss by roughly pulling your head back, your hair tight in her grip. “Eager, are we?”

You didn’t respond, and instead pushed yourself against her, hoping the friction would quiet the ache in your stomach.

She threw you against the hard mattress, and didn’t waste any time tearing your clothes from your body.

Your nipples hardened as they were met with cold air, but you made no move to cover yourself. You knew you were beautiful, and you relished in the way Sevika studied your body in awe.

She chuckled, “Not too bad…”

You smirked back, studying the way curly hairs enveloped the space between her legs. “Not too bad yourself.”

The humorous mood was quickly replaced with tension as she reached over for something—a strap. It was thick and lengthy, but surprisingly didn’t look cheap. The material was solid in her hands, and she worked with the skill of an expert as she fastened the harness to her hips.

She spread your legs a little further and scooted herself closer to you. The lube in her hands loosened as she studied the way slick covered your walls and entrance. “Looks like I won’t be needin’ this.”

She plunged two fingers into you, and wasted no time as she pumped her fingers in and out of you at a steady rhythm. Your hips bucked towards her.

She leaned down towards you, and her plush chest pressed against yours. Your moans grew louder with each digit she added. Sevika nibbled at the sensitive skin on your neck, and the coil in your stomach tightened.

Her pace became more hurried and erratic, sensing you were close, and she rubbed the strap against your clit, earning a groan in her ear.

You released yourself with a sigh as you came on her fingers, the wet sound enveloping the quiet room. Your moans quieted as you calmed yourself from your high, sweat dribbling down your face and chest.

Sevika rose from your chest as she looked down at you. She lined her strap up with your slick, loose entrance, and placed a hand on your hip to keep you steady. The two of you locked eyes, and she smirked, “You good?”

You nodded your head sluggishly, “Yeah, yeah…”

Sevika hummed in approval, and in one swift motion, thrusted herself into you. You hissed at the stretched, but the slight pain flew by as she started to move in a steady pace.

Her hips moved back and forward as she thrusted into you at a relentless pace, and your moans bounced off the walls.

She leaned forward, and you wrapped your arms around her shoulders. You moaned into her bare shoulder as the smell of her musk evaded your nose.

The sound was wet skin hitting skin made you clench around her, a tears clouded your vision as you stared at the ceiling.

You dug your nails into her back, drawing blood that caked beneath your nails. She groaned at the action, the sound echoing through the room.

“S—Sevika—”, you choked out as your legs curled around her.

You could feel her smirk as she pressed her nose into your shoulder, “Hm?”

Your nails dug deeper into her back, “I—I’m close—”

Her thrusts became deeper, and she slowed her pace as she pulled at your hair from the root. “That’s it, shit—”

You came with a moan as your back arched against her. You could see the way she bit her bottom lip through your blurry vision.

Your moans quieted as she chased her own high, her thrusts refusing to stop. She kneaded one of your soft breasts beneath her hand, her fingers ghosting over your nipple.

She came with a grunt, the last few of her thrusts harder than the last. She threw her head back as she tried to catch her breath. She brought a hand up to her hair, running her hands through it. Sweat glistened her toned body, the valley of her breasts heaving with every breath. You took a moment to admire her beauty, in its rawest form.

She slowly pulled out of you, and you slightly winced at the motion.

You sighed in relief as you raise up, though you were careful not to move your numb legs.

You whispered as you spoke, “Thanks…I needed that.”

Sevika smirked at you, her tooth gap slightly showing. “It’s nothin’. I didn’t have anything better to do tonight anyways…”

You smirked back, “So, how much do I owe you?”

She was taken aback by your comment, but ultimately went along with the joke as she smiled, “It’s on the house, babe.”

……

I’m finally done with this 😭

I’m sorry it took me so long to post, college has been kicking my ASS left and right. I’ll be updating the Wolf and Dragon series later this week.

Hope you enjoyed 🎀

[lilgarbitch]

For Better Or For Worse - Noah Sebastian

Beside You Pt. 2

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Reader

CW: more angst<3

Word Count: 1.2k

Author’s Note: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Tags: @theanarchymuse95 @dontwantthemoney @chey-h @badomensgoodomens @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @enemiestolovershoe @blade-dressed-in-red @xmads-omensx @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @thatchickwiththecamera @tosoundlessdarkistare

Y/N

It’s been about three years since that day, give or take. All I know is that time has passed and I’ve lost track. Things have changed, yet stayed the exact same. The pain has eased with time, but the love has yet to die. I’m still living in the old house, just changing as much of the interior as I could without feeling like I’ve lost too much. Because what else will be left when the hurt is gone? I now have a bed and sheets that have never touched his skin. A couch that didn’t home one or more of the boys in a time of need. The sad yellowing walls are now a light grey, with no sign of smoke stains or holes from bad decisions. Even I’ve changed. My hair is different, I’ve retired piercings, gotten new tattoos, and even changed my style. Things were different. Yet everytime I glanced into a room, I could see the memories replaying in my head like an old movie. Everytime I see the unclosed hole of my lip piercing, I’m reminded of Noah joining me for a last minute, impulsive decision. Everyday, I debate covering the tattoo that we got together when Nick started apprenticing, but then I see a photo of him on stage, singing with his arm raised, and I see that he still has his too. 

He’s changed too. Not to the point of losing recognition, but enough that I can tell he’s getting healthier out there. His voice has grown, his hair is shorter and choppy, and he’s fit into himself better than he ever has before. I don’t mean to look at pictures of him and the boys, but I could never unfollow their accounts. I could never pretend that my love died that day like they have. It’s an internal battle everytime I see him, debating if him leaving me behind was really what he needed to do.

But I know it wasn’t. Because in the days where I really miss him and really want to feel the grief of the past, I listen to their new music. It’s not hard to understand where the lyrics come from. I’ve known Noah for too long to ignore how he portrays his emotion through his music. But what I don’t understand is why. Why sing of regret? Why put yourself through all of this pain and misery when we could have lived a different way? Every time his voice rings through my home, all I can ask is would you have been there when I came home? Could you not have held on to another day, just for us to be together? I could have easily joined you in your journey, nothing else more important to me than you, so why make the decision for me? Especially when all it resulted in was the two of us living in regret? 

His regret being leaving. Of stupidly deciding that I was better off without him, even after years of me trying to prove that nothing could be worse than not having him by my side. Our lives may have never stopped that day, but I know, at least for me, that my will to try and make life worth living was gone the second he drove off. 

That leads to my regret. The regret of holding on for so long. To still be holding on. To the hope that one day, things can be okay again. Because I’m terrified. Terrified I’ll never see him again. Terrified that, one day, I’ll accept never seeing him again. Terrified that I won’t be okay again unless he comes back. Terrified that no matter the outcome, I won’t be happy again. And those are the days that I’ve lived for the past few years. In fear of losing someone I already lost. Because there was a day where I allowed him to pull me out of a dark and lonely place, only to allow him to push me back in, and still forgive him in hopes he’ll pull me out again. 

Noah

The days have become grueling again. I shoved my emotions into lyrics, pouring my rage and guilt into melodies, and it was a simple distraction…until tour started. And every song was another reminder of her. I didn’t even think. I was so focused on using my music as an outlet that I forgot it could bite me in the ass. That I’d be forced to travel back to Virginia, and sing these lyrics under the same sky. One we’d both be staring up at together again. 

I was more than grateful that Sumerian Records was able to get us an opening spot for Attila’s tour, but that meant within a month, I’d be back in Richmond and close to her again. Each night of the tour so far was painful, just counting down the seconds until the next day, because it was another day closer to home. And I don’t mean the home I grew up in, but the person I left behind. 

I had the whole world in my hands, and with one stupid decision, I gave it all away. What did I even think I would save? Life without her has been miserable. I thought I was helping both of us by leaving, but with every free moment I got over the last three years, all I could do was wish it was filled with her presence. I could’ve made it work, I just didn’t want to try. And I knew her long enough to know that she would’ve made it the easiest thing in the world. So this was my burden to take. Because I’m the only one to blame. I kept telling myself that she was so much better off without me. With nothing but the memories of my face. But now I know that, even if she was doing better, I wasn’t. Because I have no use now that she’s gone. 

I have no way of knowing how to deal with this. I knew better than anyone else that the decisions I made ruined things, but I couldn’t handle being back there and not trying. I knew the chances of me absolutely fucking everything up again by simply showing my face, but the risk was worth it. I couldn’t have a chance like this and not take it. I would never be able to live with myself if I didn’t at least see if there was a possibility to have her again. This could either destroy both of us completely, or finally be a second chance at being happy again. I had to take it. I had to do this, because I was running out of faith. 

TO BE CONTINUED

[noxiousgrace]

I'm not sure who said it first, but the theory that krs is the red dragon has been on my mind for days now

And it would make so much sense if that was the case

Like what's a better twist than finding out the man who ended the white stars bullshit is also the same being who was used to start it all?

And the fact that krs was able to be affected by white stars curse is so much worse now

Imagine sherrit finding out her child was hurt by the same thing she created to protect him 😭

This also places immense suspicion on the god of death, i mean it never made sense to me that the white star was just able to "pass his curse around" like a sickly virus just because he stole someones body. It sounds more plausible to me that the god of death never added the rule "this curse cannot affect anybody else" and then used it as a loophole to curse KRS.

The curse was a punishment for an oath only dragon slayers have made, what the hell could be more targeted and specific than that??? And now you're telling me this random guy from raon has to live with it in korea cuz the white star took his body before that soul got to inhabit it??

The only person who can break a curse is the one who made the curse and the person who wanted it to be made (in this case the GoD and Sherrit)

And in the sealed test choi jung gun says "the god of death is trying to hold the curse back from affecting you"

Excuse me??? He can't dispel his own curse?? I don't believe that at all. Also krs had nothing to do with the white star since he was born, so why is it impossible to remove him from the effects of it?? The god of death had about 36 years to figure out how to make it go away, and he just couldn't?? I smell bullshit

Sherrit also said that the red egg was affecting it's surroundings before it was born, the dragon inside would've been powerful to extents she probably couldn't even comprehend

It makes more sense to me if the GoD just wanted to get rid of any competition/ "wrench in his plans" and used the excuse of protecting sherrits children to create the perfect scenario to take out 2 birds with one stone

GoD does seem kinda stupid when we see him but it's always the mfs with that kind of act that are the most suspicious, also he literally became a god?? If he can do that, then he's more than capable of setting up some kind of intricate plan to get what he wants

Anywho, there's also other things I've noticed:

1) never accepting park jin tae as king until he proved himself, krs has never submitted to anyone without a valid reason for doing so. Which would seem kinda weird cuz he spent 90% of his upbringing being beaten into submission. I've only ever seen an attitude like that in dragons or just stronger creatures in general (coincidence? I think not)

2) this has been stated before but his affinity with dragons is crazy + he's constantly being mistaken for one 😭

3) the GoD called krs a mutant, we don't know why yet but being a human with the soul of a dragon is a pretty valid reason to call someone a mutant. (Especially if that mutant was able to activate a small % of its attribute)

4) i don't have anything to back this up with, but instant being his attribute instead of a power he got on earth would be pretty cool, just using it for a little bit is enough to injure him because it's meant to be used by a dragon as powerful as the Red one.

----

Imagine eden finding out that the heart he ate to become a chimera belonged to the person who saved him 😭

Imagine the rest of the dragons finding out cale henituse is a "dragon" that will literally die from using his attribute because he's living in the wrong body 😭😭

---

Cales honest reaction to that information:

[witchygagirlwrites]

Together

Jay Halstead x Reader

You push people away. It's how you cope. Only a chosen few has managed to stick around. Jay is going to prove he's not going anywhere.

You were pulling away. You could feel it and knew Jay could too. The problem? You didn’t know how to not pull away. That little voice in your head that was so damn sure and strong when it came to work was so damn quiet and uncertain when it came to yourself. You loved Jay. You knew that with every fiber of your being but that damn little voice kept whispering “He can do better than you and he's going to figure it out”

As much as you didn't want to lose him as your lover, the thought of losing him as your friend hurt worse. He'd always been there as a cornerstone when you needed him.

When Voight suggested changing partners around you'd seen the fact that Jay wanted to argue written plainly in his eyes but you spoke up and said “I agree Sarge. It's good to switch it up every now and then”

You were partnered with Adam, Kim with Jay and Hailey with Kevin. It was a big change from the usual team but all of you worked well enough together, had for years.

While you were all gearing up to roll out you saw Jay move towards you so you turned towards Hailey “Upton, check that rear strap for me?” She smiled “Of course” and readjusted it slightly then asked you to check hers too. At least by her asking you it didn't just look like you were avoiding Jay, even if he looked like a kicked puppy when you met his eyes.

“Everyone knows what you should be doing. Come home in one piece” Voight said looking around at all of you. You each nodded in turn. You grabbed your long gun then winked at Kim “Don't worry babe. I got your fella’s back” she grinned “I know you do. I got Jay's”

You smiled slightly and Kevin cleared his throat “and Hailey’s got mine if yall care” your smile turned into a full grin as you cut your eyes at him “You know I care Atwater. Anything happen to you I'm fighting the ferrymen to bring you back myself” he grinned “My girl” and bumped his shoulder against yours.

Voight shook his head but you saw a small grin “Do your damn jobs” with that he dismissed you so you rolled out. It was a quick snatch and grab. You wouldn't say nothing should go wrong because you knew your job, anything could go wrong but it should be fairly easy.

The snatch and grab went down just as planned thankfully. Six arrests were successfully made.

You were walking out of the precinct when you heard Jay call your name so you stopped and turned to see him walking towards you with one of those smiles that always made your heart flip “Hey baby. You want to go get a drink or some food or something?”

You shrugged “I'm kinda tired honestly. I was going to just go home and crash” he nodded “I can bring takeout?” He looked so damn hopeful but that voice in your head wouldn't shut up for two fucking seconds screaming about how bad it's gonna hurt if you let yourself love him as deeply as you wanted to just for him to walk away.

“It's fine honey. Um raincheck for tomorrow?” He nodded, his face falling slightly. “Ok, did I do something?” You shook your head “No, why?” he motioned back to the precinct “I've seen you stand toe to toe with Voight over trying to make you partner with anyone else and today you agreed. You haven't wanted to go out or let me come over in days. Baby is there someone else?”

Your eyes widened slightly “What?” He shrugged “I don't know here. I mean we were doing good, I thought. Is it because we had sex? Are you pulling away because of that?” You shook your head, trying not to let your eyes tear up “No Jay, of course not. Sex with you is fucking amazing”

He grinned slightly “Then why have you barely let me kiss you all week?” You shrugged and opened your mouth to say something then clamped it back “I don't want to talk here. Can you grab the takeout?” He nodded “I'll be over in a few ok?” “Ok” he took a step closer and when you didn't pull away he pressed a kiss to your temple.

You sat on your couch, waiting for Jay to knock. When he did you were up and on your feet without thinking. You opened the door to let him in and he walked in carrying the takeout bags “I got Chinese”

He walked into your kitchen as you closed and locked the front door and you heard him putting the take out trays across the counter and throwing the plastic bag into your recycling bin before he walked back into the living room, shedding his jacket and walking over to you.

He stopped just shy of you and raised one eyebrow, silently asking permission. You stepped closer to him, slipping your arms around his waist and he pulled you against his chest “There's my girl. I was wondering where she went”

You cut your eyes up at him “I'm sorry I pushed you away Jay. It's just I think I realized I was falling in love with you and I freaked out because I don't even know why you're with me and…” you were cut off by him kissing you like he was a drowning man and you were the last taste of air.

You moaned lightly against his lips and when he finally pulled away both of you were breathing a little harder “You love me?” He asked and you nodded “I do” he grinned “Good, because I love you but get it straight from here on there will be no pushing me away. You try to push me? I'll grab you and pin you to a wall. We're in this together” you chuckled lightly “You just used you pinning me to a wall as a threat. That is a fantasy Halstead”

He smirked “Oh yeah? Well baby I can make that reality right now. Just tell me you love me one more time” you smiled “I love you Jay” he groaned lightly and leaned down far enough to pick you up, forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist “I've went the last week and a half barely touching you. I'm making up for it tonight”

[brattyzanny]

Hihihi so first happy bday to Getou ^.^ I tried to get as close as I could to 3.4k words and barely got to 1.9k ;-; but I’m thinking of making this a series? Btw this isn’t proofread. Thank you for reading! Always feel free to comment any tips. My asks are open for requests! Thanks again ok bye!!!

Edit: sorry rereading it and fixing typos! I can’t deal with them omg

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MDNI BLANK PROFILES DNI

TW: angry sex, talk of death/violence, use of slut, brat, unprotected sex, cream pie, slight dubcon since they’re basically fight fucking? Tiny bit of a size kink, size difference, he’s older than reader. Reader is over 20.

ENJOY :D

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After fighting an especially difficult curse with Suguru both of you were pissed. He hadn’t been listening to you at all the whole time. That had led to both of you getting injured.

“All you had to fucking do is stay out of my way y/n.”

“Fuck that all you had to do was listen to me! You never listen to me. You act as if your age means anything. I’ve got enough experience and skill to fight that curse on my own if I needed to. You’d arrogance is going to get you or worse us killed one day Suguru.” You exclaim as you walk into your shared dorm. He rolls his eyes and crosses his arms.

“What experience? Kissing Satoru’s ass so he can train you when your just drooling over him? Ridiculous. Had I not been there you’d have gotten yourself killed. You should be thanking me!” Suguru yells walking up to you. He had a gash on his left cheekbone and bruises scattered along his sides. You were no better with a small cut on your forehead and bruises and scrapes on your legs from being thrown but the curse.

“Watch your tone Suguru you sound jealous. Mad I didn’t go to you to be my mentor? Satoru knows what he’s doing and he’s a great teacher. What’s a second year to you anyways? Not like you even care about anyone but yourself. I can’t stand you.” He was so close to you now. You hadn’t even realized that he had you pinned to the wall until one of his knees came between your legs keeping your thighs parted.

“You’re such a fucking brat. Always bitching about how someone does their fucking job. You think I’m jealous off you showing off your ass to Satoru when you’re practicing? Think I’m mad you didn’t choose me? Please. If I wanted you to be a little slut for me I’d have you on your knees right now choking on my cock.” Your breath hitched and your damned thighs squeezed around his leg slightly but enough to make Suguru’s smirk grow even wider.

“Look at you. Pussy practically throbbing thinking about my dick down your throat.” He leans into your neck and up to your ear. “Bet your little cunt is dripping for me.” He rasps as he presses his knee harder against your clothed pussy, indeed finding that you were almost soaking the thin fabric. You slap him. Hard. The silence is deafening before you find your voice.

“S-Suguru get off of m-me.” You pant feeling him chuckle darkly and bite at your neck. “This pussy doesn’t want me to stop. Wants me to keep touching her doesn’t it?” He smirks as his fingers trail down before you grab his arm stopping his descent .

“Fucking pervert.” You growl looking at him. Your heart is racing and your pussy is flooding as you take in his disheveled appearance. His hand circles around your throat gripping it hard making you gasp and snap your eyes to his dark violet ones.

“You need to know your place.” He growls staring back at you. “Only reason I was here today is because Gojo couldn’t be bothered with a second year. Not important enough. Basically forced me to deal with your bratty little ass.” His voice was smooth as silk but dark as ever. It sent shivers down your spine. With your eyebrows furrowed you struggled in his grasp growling back at him, “f-fuck you Geto. Fucking jealous that I-I’d rather fuck Satoru instead o-of y-you.” Your voice was broken due to his hand that was starting to get tighter around your throat. He pushed you harder against the wall forcing your legs wider before dipping his fingers into your panties just to find that your pussy had betrayed you. You were soaked just having him degrade and choke you.

“You thinking about him right now slut? You’re fucking dripping.” He groans looking down at his fingers, sticky with your arousal. He meets your eyes again as he slowly sucks his fingers clean of your juices groaning lowly at the taste. Your legs clamp around his and you can feel your nipples straining through the fabric of your uniform. No you can’t do this. You can’t let Suguru Geto fuck you like this….but you can feel his hot and heavy cock on your thigh. You glare at him. How dare he make your body react this way after nearly getting you killed.

“G-get off Suguru.” You groan feeling him slip his fingers back inside your panties.

“I think I’d rather teach you a lesson. You shouldn’t be talking back to your Sensei the way you are.” He taunts as his fingers swipe up and down your slit, spreading your wetness before rubbing harshly on your clit. You whimper and jolt at the friction, hands clawing at his wrist holding your neck so tightly.

“You still want me to let you go? So you can go play with this pussy in your room and moan my name? Yeah I hear you every night doll. Thinking you’re so fucking quiet. Fucking little slut.” He rasps slowly pushing two fingers inside you making you let out a breathy moan.

“Ahh~ S-stop. Mmnh.” You whine with your cheeks blazing red at this point. You don’t want him to but you have to put up a fight. He was your sensei right now and it’s not right.

“Mmm your sucking me in sweetheart. I don’t think you want me to stop baby.” He purrs into your ear as his fingers speed up and curl right into your g-spot making you moan his name and gush around his fingers.

“Heh look how good I can make you feel. And you want to act like you only want Satoru fucking this pussy? Maybe you’d like both of us to stretch you out.” Your pussy clenches at his words which make you whimper and sink your teeth into your plush bottom lip.

“Yeah I knew it. You’re a dirty little slut aren’t you?” Suguru taunts you as his fingers work your pussy into your first orgasm of the night.

“Haah please m’gonna c-cum Sugu~” you whine feeling your walls tighten around his thick fingers. He smirks down at you before sliding s third finger inside. That sends you soaring over the edge, back arching and nails raking down the arm he has holding your throat.

“Good fucking girl. Cum on my fingers I wanna taste this pretty little pussy.” He groans watching your face intently as you orgasm. You’re panting as you come down from your high watching as he slides his fingers form your sopping cunt and up to his mouth once more. He sucks off your juices and then takes you closer to him, meeting your lips in a rushed and passionate kiss. You moan into his mouth tasting yourself on his tongue. Before you know it he has you lifted around his waist and he’s walking you toward his room.

“Can’t wait to fuck you dumb. To shut this bratty fucking mouth up.” He growls between kisses. Clothes go flying off of you two as you fight to see who can get the other undressed faster. His hair is now loose from his bun and yours is a mess cascading down your back. Both of your injuries are quickly forgotten as your both let your hands roam and grope the other, trying to get impossibly closer.

“Stop talking already and fuck me Suguru.” You groan reaching down and stroking his weeping cock. His teeth sink into your neck as he groans and pins you down against the bed.

“Gonna ruin your slutty little cunt.” His voice is raspy and dark as he flips you over onto your stomach, ass in the air and pussy dripping with arousal. You haven’t had sex in a while and you know he’s going to stretch you so much. He slaps his heavy dick onto your pussy, making you let out a pathetic whimper as he grabs your hair, wrapping it around his hand and pulling you up so your back is flush with his.

“Think you can take it baby? Want me to split this cunt open? Hm?” He growls into your ear slowly dragging his tip from your clit to your entrance and back again, spreading your slick onto his thick member. You whimper and nod looking back at him.

“Take this pussy Suguru.” That’s all it took for him to slam his cock inside of you, stopping for a second as he bottomed out.

“S-shit you’re so fuckin tight doll. Hah you a virgin?” He asks rubbing one of his hands over your asscheek. You moan feeling the stinging sensation of his cock stretching you so deliciously.

“Hah n-no just been..Mmmhhh a while.” You whimper pushing your ass against him.

“Good cuz I don’t do soft and gentle baby. I’m gonna ruin this fuckin cunt until a-all you can think about is my cock.” He groans as he snaps his hips back, plunging his thick cock back inside you. Suguru smacks your ass as his pace continues at an inhuman speed. Soon enough your face is pressed into his sheets and your back is arched so much you know you’re going to be sore for days and not just because of the fight.

“F-fuck you take my cock so we’ll doll. Like you were made f’me.” He groans as he fucks into you faster and harder.

“S-Suguru! Haah m’gonna cummm!” You whine between his rough thrusts. You hear him laugh darkly as his pace becomes even more brutal.

“Think you deserve to cum slut? Hah been such a f-fuckin brat to me today.” He yanks you back up against his chest as one of his hands comes around to spank your clit making you cry out his name.

“P-please! M’so close please S-Sugu!” You moan reaching your hands up to tangle in his dark locks, tugging as he leans down to bite and suck on your neck.

“That’s a good little slut. Mmmh fuckin cum for me.” He moans slapping your clit a few more times before you scream his name and squirt onto his sheets and down your legs.

“Oh fuckkkk so fu-fucking tight baby. Gonna breed this tight little pussy. O-Oh fuck m’cumming!” He growls biting down hard on your shoulder as he fucks himself deeper inside you, letting thick hot ropes of his cum paint your walls. Suguru absolutely fills your pussy with his seed before you both collapse onto the bed, his cock still seated inside you and his cum leaking from the sides of him.

After a few minutes of you both panting and him leaving soft kisses on your neck he finally speaks up.

“Did I hurt you?” His voice was now a softer and more sensual tone. Genuine worry laced within his words. You turn and look at him before shaking your head.

“Felt good Sugu. Better than I thought when I was playing with myself thinking of you.” You whisper almost embarrassed. He chuckles and kisses you softly wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close to him.

“I’m glad. Let’s rest, we can shower tomorrow. You did so good for me baby. Took my cock like a champ.” He laughed. Your face grew red again before sleep slowly took both of you. Maybe you were lying about wanting to fuck Satoru instead. Maybe you let him hear you moaning his name on purpose hoping he would grow a paid and come in to fuck you just like he’d done tonight. Either way you’re satisfied and completely spent. And he’s already snoring softly behind you, arms tightening around you anytime you moved.

[ravenbloodshot]

Hello! Idk if you saw about Aespa going viral for white painting on their bodies. Tbh Aespa girls are becoming more and more uncanny looking by years. A lot of white painting, bleaching and they look like a wax doll which is even worse because they already have a pale skin to start with especially Winter and Karina. Also infamous Karina AI jaw and current Giselle plastic surgery is looking very weird like the lip fillers and botox are kinda getting outta hand. Only Ningning looks normal in the group now. It's not just me all users on tiktok and reddit are agreeing about this also. I'm worried about the girls because SM is known to force their idols to go under surgery and it's in contract. Can you tell us this is what girls want or are they forced? What do you think?

Let's see...

What I'm seeing is interesting. I see that they view their plastic surgery and their attempts to better fit the beauty standards as a necessity to survive. Like I'm literally seeing that the entire purpose of it is to suit/fulfill the male gaze or wants. To better find a mate and be better off socially, financially, or whatnot. (What I'm picking up sounds barbarian, but they want better appearances to have a better pick of men romantically). Also, career wise, they and their company want the male fans to find them beautiful so they're doing whatever they can to make that happen and cash in on that.

I'm also picking up a copy and paste vibe. So I definitely think there's a blueprint for how the girls should appear. (There are theories that SM has an exact plastic surgery look they like to replicate, and there's likely some truth to that). I wouldn't be surprised if SM had a naturally beautiful female or male idol that they uphold as their beauty standard for idols now. (For example, Kim jaejoong, etc...).

I'm not exactly seeing that they've been forced to alter their appearance. It's likely they already knew their natural looks wouldn't have gotten them very far in the industry, so they were more than willing to change that for better opportunities. Though, I will say that they were picked apart and judged heavily . SM didn't hold back when it came to critiquing their looks. (Reminds me of how Twice members were judged and insulted during their survival show, its a very common practice in the idol industry)

I do see some regret. Mostly regret for getting work done so young. I heard, "I wish i waited till I was more mature and could make better decisions."

When it comes to the skin bleaching accusations. Their energy is completely avoidant. I keep getting cards that basically mean that they don't want to think about it or speak about it. So, I wouldn't be surprised if there's a hidden feeling of shame or embarrassment. Even if a friend or loved one was to discuss this topic with them, I doubt they would answer anything directly. Everything about this energy is so "hush, hush."

[kiribakuswife]

Patch Him Up

Atsumu Miya x Reader

“I thought you guys were over this.” You shook your head as you looked down at the man who sat on the edge of your tub, a childish pout on his face that reminded you of times before you all had entered the thrilling world of adulthood.

“‘Samu started it, stupid pig.” he huffed with a wince as you began cleaning the blood away from his cut lip, keeping your eyes trained on the small wound, trying to not notice how soft his lips were as you did so. 

You had nearly had a heart attack when you heard the knock on your door at almost 2 am, almost letting out a laugh of absurdity in your half asleep state when you had looked through your doors peephole to see a scowling massive volleyball player on the other side of your door. It wasn’t the first time he had come to you to help patch him up after a fight with his twin, the two often working it out through fists rather than words, but it had been quite a while since the last time, especially since back in highschool it was nearly a weekly occurrence.

“Oh and I’m sure you’re entirely innocent.” You rolled your eyes, brow furrowing a bit as his lip continued to bleed a bit, “Here hold this here, keep the pressure.” You instructed, taking a much needed step back to root through the first aid kit.

You had known the both of them since high school, becoming good friends, but something about Atsumu always made your heartbeat a little faster, and it had only seemed to get worse over the years as you both matured, if still getting into the odd fist fight with his brother can be considered mature.

It felt almost domestic, reminding you of a life before he was practically a celebrity, before you had to spend eight hours a day staring at a computer screen, before bills and ever climbing grocery prices, before you realized you harbored complicated feelings for your best friend.

It was something that had fostered slowly, and before you could even fully realize it it was already too late, despite how hopeless it felt. He was flirty by nature, always had been, but over the past few months it had begun to bother you more than you would ever care to admit, often having to spin the conversation to stop the blush that was bound to flood your cheeks if you thought about it too long, if you looked at him for too long.

“Maybe you’re right.” He admitted softly as you turned back, the pout still on his face. He looked almost ridiculously endearing as he sat on the edge of your tub, faded pajama pants and a shirt that was well worn, one you recognized from high school, a small hole in the middle of it. It should have been illegal to look that good in this light, a bruise forming already on his cheekbone. 

“You know how he is.” He frowned softly as you stepped closer, practically standing between his legs as he pulled the gauze away, tilting his head up so you could get a better look.

“Mmm and I know how you are too.” You hummed with a small smile. Neither of them were ever truly innocent, and you were well aware of that. He stayed quiet, hissing a bit as you applied the antiseptic. You could feel his eyes on you as you did so, hoping he couldn’t hear the way your heart was pounding from the proximity. You applied a small butterfly bandage to the corner of his bottom lip, hoping your face didn’t give away the way your heart skipped as your fingers slipped over his lips as he spoke again.

“Hey what’s that supposed to mean?” His voice was quite in the stillness of the night, lips forming into another pout. Your retort caught in your throat as you glanced up, meeting his warm eyes, face closer than you expected it to be, despite the fact that you were the one that had leaned in in the first place. You merely rolled your eyes, not trusting your voice to respond before you stepped back again, taking a deep breath that was annoyingly not helpful as you caught the scent of something purely him.

“I’ll get you some ice.” You said instead, voice just as soft and quiet, as if speaking any louder would shatter the small bubble of whatever was happening in this moment. You slipped out of the bathroom before he could respond, hands cupping your cheeks once you were out of sight, letting out a frustrated breath as you realized they were hot to the touch. Perhaps you simply weren’t built for a life of silent pining, feeling as if years had been shaved off your life by this point from silent embarrassment. 

A part of you wondered if he had any idea about your nearly constant swirling thoughts whenever he was around. Another part was relieved by the reminder to yourself on how oblivious he often was to that sort of thing. After years of fangirls nearly tripping over themselves for him, he truly seemed to have no clue about how you felt, or maybe he was just pretending not to notice? You certainly hoped it was the former option. The last thing you wanted to do was destroy years of friendship over a crush of all things. Crush wasn’t exactly the right word for it though, and you knew that, something more.

Your thoughts were cut off as you popped the ice cubes out of the tray, nearly jumping out of your skin as his voice spoke over your shoulder. You hadn’t even noticed him come in, deep in your own thoughts. “Sorry what?” Your voice was more shaky than you wanted, clearing your throat after with a cringe.

“I said I could do it, babe.” he repeated, pulling back from over your shoulder with a lopsided grin, instead stepping back to lean against the counter. “Sleeping on the job, nurse?” He smirked as he crossed his arms. There was a slight hint of guilt in his eyes as he glanced at the stove clock, seeing the early morning hour. “Shit I didn’t realize it was so late.” He added softer, smirk dropping a bit. 

“It’s fine.” You waved off, finishing the ice pack and handing it to him. The honest truth is you really didn’t mind. You didn’t really mind anything when it was him, even though it was  pushing almost 2:30 in the morning at this point.

“This is why I love you.” He smiled as he took the ice pack, blowing you a kiss dramatically, and your heart squeezed as you turned to put the ice back in the freezer. Did he really have no clue how that made your head spin?

“Yeah yeah.” You mumbled, glad the freezer door blocked your face, hoping some of the cold air would chill the fire that spread across your cheeks. You nearly jumped when you closed the freezer, his face right on the other side, a look you didn’t quite recognize in his eyes.

“I mean it.” He said his voice was gentler than you had ever heard it. His eyes were flicking over your face, and you could feel it heating up again. “I- fuck…” He trailed off, taking a step back as he ran a hand over his face. “I can’t keep pretending I’m not in love with you.”

The confession seemed to surprise him as much as it surprised you, his eyes widening, speaking again before you could get a word in, your lips parting a bit. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to- I didn’t want to tell you like this, I just- ‘Samu kept saying all this shit about us growing up, and how you weren’t going to put up with me forever and I-”

You stepped forward quickly, a hand coming up to cover his mouth, cutting off his rambling. “I’m not just putting up with you.” You said just as quickly. “Please don’t pretend.” you added softer, letting your hand drop from his mouth, the silence of the early morning settling heavy as you just stared at each other for a moment. Breaths a little heavy with the weight of the sudden shift of your friendship.

The air was charged with tension, and after either just a second or an eternity, you were unsure of which, he was suddenly moving forward, one hand coming to the back of your head, the other gripping your cheek to tilt your head up, his lips smashing into your own almost desperately. Your own hands flew to him, kissing back just as fiercely, years of pent up emotions flooding as one hand grabbed his arm, the other gripping his wrist as your mouth parted, allowing him to deepen the kiss.

His hand at the back of your head shifted to grab your hip, his bicep flexing under your own hand as he guided you back, bumping into the counter roughly before his other hand joined, lifting your hips to set you on the countertop, forcing your legs apart as he stepped closer.

He pulled back after a moment, both of you nearly gasping for air, his voice a little ragged as he whispered “God you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to kiss you.” 

You let your hands slide up, looping around his neck as you smiled at him, heart beating out of your chest, unable to resist the slight tease “Geez ‘Tsumu at least take a girl out first.”

He laughed lightly, a smile breaking out on his face as he leaned in, eyes closing as he pressed his forehead into your own. “I take you out all the time.”

“Osamu’s doesn’t count.” You laughed softly, leaning into him, noses brushing together.

“Alright alright, fine.” He said with a dramatic sigh, pulling back to look over your flushed face with a smile. “Let me take you out then, somewhere the owner won’t berate me, breakfast?” He offered.

You nodded, leaning forward to place a soft kiss on his lips, “Breakfast sounds- oh shit you’re bleeding again.” Your face dropped a bit, noticing the cut on his lip that had reopened.

“Maybe you shouldn’t kiss me so hard, I’m injured you know.” He smirked at you, breaking into a laugh as you shoved him back.

[eliotquillon]

write me a story where cameron finally learns chase is allergic to strawberries thank you (you can ignore this ask)

rip to chase if i couldn’t eat strawberries i’d pretend not to care about anything either. anyway set between s3 and s4 (or maybe at the very start of s4 idk whatever. point is they haven’t been together too long)

“I could’ve killed you,” Cameron says, sounding angry and annoyed and not very sorry, but Chase knows it’s all a front; she’d cried in the ambulance, small and scared looking as soon as the EMTs not-so-kindly told her that as a doctor she should know that there was little else they could do between giving him more epi and getting him to the hospital, and he’d wanted to reach out and comfort her, but that had been difficult what with his throat being all swollen up at the time. “I cannot believe you didn’t tell me.”

“I wasn’t going to die, or anything,” Chase protests, because he doesn’t really want to talk about this right now: why he never bothered to sit Cameron down and go by the way, now that we’re sleeping each other regularly can you throw out everything you own that contains strawberry? Because there is a reason—Chase isn’t this cavalier with his health on a daily basis, honest—but it is going to upset her, and the whole reason why Chase never told her was specifically to avoid this kind of fight. There’s no polite way to say I was pretty sure you’d interpret it as a sign of impending commitment and run for the hills, especially now that Cameron is kind of adorably self-conscious about that whole period of their lives. He’s only been dating Cameron for three weeks; on balance, the risk of anaphylaxis is far less deadly than the one to their incredibly fledgling relationship. “I had my Epi-Pen on me.”

Cameron narrows her eyes at him in disgust. “I’m an immunologist,” she starts, preparing, no doubt, to rip into him about how Epi-Pens are a miracle of modern medicine but aren’t actually magic, and how anaphylactic reactions can worsen with repeat exposure, and Chase is actually kind of looking forward to it even though his throat is sore and his head is killing him and his body feels like it’s encased in syrup, because a side effect of the honeymoon phase is that he now finds it incredibly hot when she’s on the warpath, even at him—only she takes a big gulp of breath and she suddenly starts to cry again. Not quiet, terrified tears like the one in the ambulance, but big, rolling, heaving sobs. He’s seen her cry before, usually over patients, but not like this, and it freaks him out a little; Chase extends his IV-free arm towards her and corrals her in so she can rest her cheek on his chest. It’s lucky, he thinks, that they’d been closer to General than PPTH; she’d never let him do this if they were in the ER at Princeton-Plainsboro.

“Allison,” he says into her hair, voice still hoarse, “I’m fine. It was an accident.”

He almost adds this has never happened before—because it hasn’t, usually Chase has to actually ingest something strawberry to provoke a reaction, he’s never had one just from kissing someone until now—but he does, for better or for worse, know exactly how Cameron ticks, and he has a feeling that this won’t be as reassuring as he means for it to be. “I’m sorry,” he says instead, “I promise I’m not allergic to anything else.”

“You better not be,” Cameron huffs. She cranes her neck up to look at him, eyes red and puffy, and says, “You’re banned from my apartment until I can deep clean the kitchen. And the bathroom, and the bedroom. I have strawberry lube that I need to get rid of.”

“There’s probably not any actual strawberry in your lube,” Chase says. Cameron makes as though to thump his chest, then remembers he’s hooked up to an EKG and thinks better of it. “No need to ruin all our fun, is all I’m saying.”

“I’m an immunologist,” Cameron says again, but she doesn’t sob this time—it comes out more as a sigh. “You should’ve told me.”

Chase thinks, idly, of all the times Cameron brought her favourite strawberry cream cheese bagels into work and he’d turned them down—how many times House had raised his eyebrows at the sight, but never bothered to say anything, either. He thinks of Cameron crying in the ambulance. There’s a hazy memory of her suddenly running off as soon as the ambulance parked in the bay, which is strange, and then he realises she smells absurdly strongly of medical grade mint. “You threw up,” he realises, and pets her head clumsily. “You should’ve asked for some Zofran.”

“Don’t be an idiot,” Cameron says. “When you’re better, we’re going to talk about this.” After a moment, she laces her hand with his. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

She says it so nakedly that Chase doesn’t have it in him to fight back about her being mad at him anymore. “Told you I’m fine,” he says drowsily, and then he falls dead asleep.

[ghostinthelibrarywrites]

Ooooooo 🤕🤕🤕!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Please! I ADORE that premise

Thank you for the ask! A snippet from the Undead Boy Detectives fic where Charles gets hurt and no one handles it well:

“Edwin is scared,” Jenny says slowly, like she’s talking to a toddler. “Remember how he was when you first got back from Hell? Hiding up in Niko’s room when a car got too close because he wasn’t a ghost anymore and things could hurt him now? You just got seriously hurt for the first time since coming back to life. You’re lucky that demon didn’t crack your skull open. It could have been worse, he knows that, and he’s terrified because next time, it could be worse.” Charles’s mouth is dry. “He didn’t say anything to me.” “Of course he didn’t,” she says. “Because you’re supposed to be resting your brain, not worrying about how your boyfriend is feeling. That doesn’t mean he’s not being a fucking idiot, because he is. Which I told him when he was down here whining to me this morning.” “Edwin was talking to you about me?” “Yeah, because the four of you think I have nothing better than to hold your hands through teenage drama.” She glares at him. “And no, I’m not going to tell you what he said to me. You two can actually talk to each other for once.” “But—” “Go back to bed, kid.”

Make Me Write (Again)

[jezebelgoldstone]

YES OKAY DESPAIR NOT I'VE GOT YOU FRIEND.

Briefly: I learned how to crochet when I was six, and did so regularly until I was in my mid-twenties. Then I started getting pain in my thumb. It got so bad and I was so scared of carpal tunnel and arthritis that I stopped crocheting for about 5 years. I didn't talk to a doctor or anything about it because I was convinced they were going to tell me I could never crochet again, and I knew I just couldn't handle hearing that. Somewhere in those five years knitting started to hurt my wrists as well, so I prioritized typing and gave up knitting too.

So like I said about 5 years after I hadn't crocheted at all, I finally managed to work up the emotional fortitude to talk to my doctor about it.

If you have pain from doing your hobbies, things that make you happy, then that means that you are having pain that is lowering your quality of life and you do deserve medical care for it. I'm not a doctor & you should talk to your own doctor too because our situations may be very different, obviously.

That said! I'm going to tell you what worked for me!

Me: my joints hurt when i knit or crochet. I'm worried im developing arthritis.

Dr: How do you manage the pain when you knit or crochet?

Me: I don't. I stopped doing either a few years ago.

Dr, emphatic: oh no no no! You can't STOP! That will just make it worse!

Me: ...wat

Dr: if you stop doing those motions with your joints, or stop using those joints altogether, that will cause them to deteriorate!

Me: so i just... push through the pain...?

Dr: the pain is caused by irritation and swelling, which will ALSO cause deterioration. What you need to do is take an anti-inflammatory like ibuprofen about fifteen minutes before you start knitting or crochetting. Do that for a while and you won't develop arthritis.

Me: sounds fake but okay.

Fam I took an advil and fifteen minutes later knitted or crocheted for an hour or two like three times and i was fine.

So after the doctor told me that there was no reason I should have to give up two hobbies that I love so much, I started paying more attention to how I crochet and I have come up with the below list.

Jez's 3 Easy Steps to Not Fuck Your Joints While Crocheting or Knitting

See above re: talking to doctors and also using ibuprofen to manage joint irritation swelling & pain.

COMFORTABLE ERGONOMIC TOOLS. Can't stress this one enough. For knitting, this means using only wooden knitting needles and never metal or plastic. The lighter the needle the better. For crocheting, this means getting those crochet hooks with the rubber padding on the end. Yes they are more expensive than the plain metal hooks, but guys, these are life-changing. Life-saving, even. Also I know we all hate shein and amazon, but amazon has sets of the lightest bamboo needles ive ever found at like ten pairs for seven dollars, & shein has padded ergonomic crochet hooks in all the normal sizes generally for like under two or three dollars a pop. Get you some bamboo knitting needles & padded ergonomic crochet hooks I am begging.

Pay attention to your actual movements when you crochet! I hold the crochet hook a little funky (like a pencil instead of with my whole hand) but that alone isn't enough to do harm. It turns out one of my problems was that I was using the hook to grab the loop and pull it onto the shaft of the hook, and in so doing I was rolling my thumb. So I was rolling my thumb literally every stitch. I started keeping the hook still and pushing the point through the loops instead, thereby also keeping my thumb still, et voila! It took a little while to get used to, but this also has been life-altering!

Don't give up! You deserve to be able to do the things you love and that make you happy without pain and without stressing that you're destroying your body! I know it seems like the kind of thing that doctors wouldn't pay attention to, but your hobbies causing pain lowers your quality of life and you do deserve medical care for it! Even if your doctor sucks or you don't have access to medical care, you can still do other things that will lessen the stress on your joints!

ok quastion for the crocheters. has crocheting ever caused you pain on the base of your thumb in the hand holding the hook?? I dont think I'm holding it weird or clenching my hand and yet. guess what's hurty

[moonleey]

Ma first try for Charles on digital art!

Edit: I forgot he had blood on his forehead so here is the adjustment :

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

I want you whipped into shape!

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