#Piece of Mind Tour

[savage-kult-of-gorthaur]

BRITISH METAL ONSLAUGHT IN DEEPEST TEXAS -- ON THE WORLD PIECE TOUR IN '83

PIC INFO: Resolution at 1100x1685 -- Spotlight on an IRON MAIDEN concert poster design featuring the infamous "Eddie the Trooper" character art, performing live at the Dallas Convention Center Arena in Dallas, Texas, USA, on July 23, 1983, with fellow British heavy metal acts SAXON and FASTWAY supporting.

Source: www.tallengestore.com/products/iron-maiden-saxon-1983-tour-heavy-metal-music-concert-poster-art-prints.

[future-crab]

EDIT: updated because I didn't like the way the original was cropped or what tumblr did to the colors. (Original version under the cut)

Angels Made From Neon

[ID: A painting-style redraw of a photo of Gerard Way. He is wearing a green and white cheerleader dress and holding a microphone. Behind him is a partially-obscured green neon sign that reads, "201-KL5-DEAD EXTERMINATORS" with the outline of a dead rat. Squiggles of neon green the same color as the sign radiate from him, and there is a neon green halo around their head. End ID.]

(original photo source)

When I posted my last piece of MCRNashville art, I said in the tags "someone who knows what they're doing could probably do something cool with this concept." And then I realized that I knew what I was doing a lot more than I did when I'd started that project, so I may as well give it a shot. And I'm glad I did, cause I'm honestly in love with how it turned out :)

Alternate versions under the cut:

[ID 1: The same image as above, but without the neon sign in the background, and without the neon squiggles and halo. End ID.]

[ID 2: The same image as the first picture, but with the phrase "angels made from neon" at the bottom, spelled out in newspaper clippings. End ID.]

Original version:

[ID 3: The same as the first image, but the colors are more muted and Gerard is slightly off-center. End ID.]

[fritzes]

exclusively watching the atp doesn’t make you better than other tennis fans

exclusively watching the wta doesn’t make you better than other tennis fans

[dickinson-devotee]

[littlepanduh-writes-365]

Day 102

Title: “midnight rain.”

Features: exes!YeoHye (Loona)

Word Count: 1,1117

Tags: Angst | Break-Ups: Moving On | Coffee Shop? | Setting Boundaries | Closure and Acceptance

Hyeju only expected the conversation to be civil. They would acknowledge each other’s presence, but wouldn’t force themselves to continue from where they left off. To her surprise, their chat was comfortable and almost natural. Yeojin managed to squeeze in some banter.

When Hyeju returned from the bathroom and saw that Yeojin was by herself, she had half a heart to bail. They had an amicable breakup nearly six months ago, but Hyeju still felt awkward being alone with Yeojin. 

Expecting that Hyunjin was going to return, Hyeju decides to stay. Thankfully, Yeojin is quick to make small talk. At first, they were just giving updates about work. That transitions into Hyeju opening up about her video-game streaming side-gig. Attempting to make a connection to the unusual working hours of a gamer, Yeojin tells a genuinely funny story about a time when she and Hyunjin accidentally spent 10 hours at a PC-bang after the release of some open world Pokémon game. Yeojin’s bashful confession of “still likes Pokémon after all this time” opens a deep and insightful discussion about hobbies and passions. They’re a sunset and two hours deep into their conversation before Hyeju realizes that Hyunjin was not coming back. 

Never in her life did Hyeju think catching up with her ex-girlfriend would be easy.

It’s almost too good to be true. 

Yeojin lets out a blissful sigh. “I miss this.” 

The sentence is simple, yet weighs heavy.

Hyeju assumes she’s talking about the conversation. She doesn’t remember the last time they had a lighthearted conversation while the sun set. 

It’s calm. 

Too calm. 

Memories cloud over her. Hyeju does her best to push them away, just as she has been doing so the past few months. 

Cheese rolls and hand holding under the table at their favorite coffee shop seems like a harmless memory. She can’t recall who they were gossiping about and she doesn’t remember how they managed to stay until closing, but it’s probably for the better. 

Lightning flashes and they’re sitting across from each other. Yeojin can only stare at her empty mug. Hyeju continues to fight her tears. Their meeting was barely 15 minutes long, but Hyeju can’t forget the way Yeojin manages to say the most heart-wrenching words in such a polite and careful manner. She wishes it wasn’t that way. She wishes Yeojin would change her mind so things work out. Maybe it would’ve been easier to move on if the simplicity of unhappiness could numb everything. 

There’s another flash of lighting, but this time, Hyeju is across the street. It’s raining, but she can’t find the courage to step foot inside that coffee shop again. She doesn’t fear seeing Yeojin. She fears seeing those cheese rolls and remembering what she lost.

One more lightning flash appears, but Hyeju is back to reality. They’re not at the coffee shop. They didn’t meet intentionally. Like the beginning of their relationship, conversation is easy. Like the end of their relationship, Yeojin is across from her and saying things that hurt her.

Open dialogue and playful banter is lovely, but they can’t exist in a relationship without serious conversations and emotional exchanges. Ideally, they could rebuild a friendship filled with shallow discussions and ignorance. 

Hyeju finds that option to be impossible. She can’t erase existential crises in the middle of a study session or passionate nights during thunderstorms. She can’t pretend that Yeojin didn’t break her heart six months ago. 

She missed Yeojin when she left. It wouldn’t surprise her if Yeojin missed a part of her, too.

Nevertheless, she doesn’t want to hear about anything that led to Yeojin’s regrets. She doesn’t want to know that despite leaving a hole in Yeojin’s heart, she’s managed to find a sense of happiness. She doesn’t like thinking that Yeojin’s memories have also faded. 

“I wish you didn’t say that.”

The words were out of Hyeju’s mouth before she could stop herself. If Yeojin’s statement didn’t regress their relationship, Hyeju’s response understandably did. 

The anxiety that Hyeju had managed to hold back unfortunately releases itself again. The fear of expressing negative emotions and rejection flow back in. Hyeju remembers questioning how they got to that point. Once upon a time, they used to tell each other everything. What happened? Hyeju knows she won’t ever find the answer to that question. Looking for the answer will just keep her running in an infinite loop of what-ifs and why’s. 

Tired of fighting, Hyeju’s flight response kicks into overdrive. She can’t stand being in her ex-girlfriend’s presence any longer and makes her exit. 

Astonished by the bold move, Yeojin stands up. Hyeju hates the way that Yeojin is fighting back. 

“I’m sorry.” Yeojin was successful in getting her words out before Hyeju left. Her apology is genuine. She never wanted to hurt Hyeju. Even after what had happened between them, she holds onto the same sentiment. 

Hyeju tightly grips onto the door hand. She seems to de-escalate. 

It’s the first time Yeojin has apologized since the breakup. 

Immediately after the breakup, the short phrase was the only thing she wanted to hear. Hyeju could accept that Yeojin lost interest in being in a romantic relationship. To this day, she still admires the way that Yeojin could communicate her feelings—something she couldn’t do. However, she had to acknowledge how painful heartbreak was. Even though the conversation was filled with love and respect, Yeojin was the cause of her pain and the least she could’ve done was apologize for hurting her feelings. Hyeju didn’t care if it was a white lie or an empty promise. The choice to not apologize left a huge wound that Hyeju hated to heal on her own. 

There came a point in time where Hyeju stopped caring about the apology. She was moving on in her life. She was healing. She didn’t think she needed to hear the apology anymore. Waiting for it would be a waste of time. 

Now that so much time has passed and Hyeju has changed from the experience, she didn’t exactly know how to feel. Was she mad that Yeojin opened an old wound? Was she relieved that Yeojin finally came to her senses? What is her apology even for?

With how numb she feels, Hyeju figures none of her curiosities matter. She didn’t like the way she was feeling, and with her heightened emotions, it was best to leave and sort out her emotions when she felt better. 

“It’s getting late.” Hyeju finds the courage to look at her ex-girlfriend. Yeojin seems to be staring at the ground, but Hyeju thinks it’s probably for the best that she doesn’t have to overanalyze the windows to her soul. “Goodnight.”

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

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[live-laugh-obsess]

feeling very emotional about mcr this fine evening i miss them so much

[lustspren]

IMPURITIES EP. 1 | N.Y. State of Mind

Male reader x Yunjin, Chaewon

First chapter of this LSF mini-series.

word count: 8.3k 

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When HYBE made you sign that contract over two years ago, you had no idea that you were going to be managing five wild, unruly girls. If you had known, maybe your signature wouldn't have been on that piece of paper, but at that point in your life, you needed the job; it was either that or starve. Besides, as a frequent K-Pop fan, it really was your dream job, so there weren't many issues with it; it was perfect.

But you never imagined that at your age, you would feel so close to going gray because of the behavior of those girls.

Maybe you were exaggerating and being a little grumpy. After all, they were girls around your age, so you could easily put yourself in their shoes and understand what was going through their heads. However, with all that, there were things that you would never be able to understand in your life simply because you weren't a woman. It might sound sexist, but it was the only explanation you could find.

At first they were little angels, as always happened in such cases; you were a stranger to them, and of course they weren't going to behave like unruly teenagers from day one. But as the days went by—yes, days, not even months—, the ones who seemed to be well-behaved and obedient girls turned out to be a pain in the ass 70% of the time.

To be honest, you couldn't say you didn't love them all. They were unbearable most of the time, but they were also endearing, and you could say you considered them good friends. What other choice did you have? You couldn't be at odds with the girls you would spend seven years of your life with, so there had to be a joint effort on both sides to not make discord the status quo. The results were positive, and even though they continued to do their misdeeds, you had learned to tolerate them for your mental health.

Two years later you were practically a family, having gone through both ups and downs. The emotional journey had been intense and rough, both for you and them. The things you had to deal with were rubbish: tight schedules, physical and mental overload, and most often, tons of hate on social media from out-of-work mentally retarded people. But like the family you had become, you faced each adversity with a firm grip.

And now you were facing the most stressful thing an artist could go through: a damn tour. But not just a tour, also a performance at one of the biggest music festivals in the world, something that even you were terrified of, and if you were terrified, you couldn't even imagine how they felt at what would be one of the most important moments of their careers.

You were all excited, though. The arrival in Los Angeles was smooth and uneventful, both at the airport and later at the hotel. However, things started to go wrong the very next day, at the sound and stage checks for the festival. As a manager, it was your job to absorb the vast majority of those problems so that the girls didn't have to worry, but due to factors beyond your control, it ended up affecting them directly and therefore, it also affected their final performance.

It wasn't a great performance; everyone was disappointed, but you remained strong and encouraging for them to keep them from falling apart, especially in the days to come when social media was at its hate peak and the criticism just kept coming. It was part of your job, but more than a manager, those couple of days you were just a friend to them, and the bonds became even stronger. It was hard to have to get to the point of having to disable all comments on every platform, but it was the best measure you could suggest as a professional who looked after her artists.

Coachella aside, preparations for the rest of the tour were going great. There weren't too many dates due to scheduling issues for the next few months, when the girls would have to start preparing for their next comeback, so you would only visit a few big cities until next year, which is when you would go to Europe as well.

The first stop of the tour was none other than New York, the city where Yunjin had grown up. You had arrived from Los Angeles in the morning, and at noon you were already checking in at the Park Hyatt for your stay for the next three days. The day of arrival was free, then the next was the rehearsal at the venue and the last day was the concert.

"Okay, listen to me everyone," you said, standing in the middle of them with the room cards in hand. You were in the lobby, near one of the many bars in the hotel. "You have a room for each of you, but if you want to share that's your problem," you handed each of them their cards. "If you're going to leave the hotel please notify me or I’ll kill myself and then blame you in your dreams."

"I'm not planning on doing anything today," Sakura said, taking her card. "I'm exhausted and I just want to finish knitting the hat I was making."

"Can you teach me?" Eunchae asked, standing next to Kura and holding onto her arm.

"What, knitting?" Sakura looked at her. Eunchae just nodded with a pair of bright, excited eyes. "Alright, I'll see what I can do."

"I'm playing Overwatch with a friend later," Kazuha said. "So I won't be going out either."

"What friend?" you asked, out of curiosity.

"That's not your problem, why do you want to know?"

You sighed.

"I'm literally just asking."

Chaewon and Yunjin were muttering things to each other, between giggles and knowing glances. You looked at them with a raised eyebrow.

"And what about you two, anything to say?"

They both looked at you with their arms linked, their eyes innocent and their lips pursed to keep from laughing.

"Nope, nothing," Yunjin shook her head.

"You're lying," you looked at Chaewon. "You're going out tonight, aren't you?"

"We already told you no!" she protested. "Why would you distrust us?"

"I can list the reasons and finish tomorrow."

"Oh come on, you're exaggerating," Yunjin patted your chest a couple of times. "We're not going out, really."

"Yeah, we're just going to eat snacks and watch a couple movies," Chaewon nodded.

You narrowed your eyes and looked at both of them for a few seconds. Suspicious, too suspicious. You weren't sure if they were really going out, but they were up to something, that much was obvious.

"Fine, I'll choose to believe you," you said. "Now go, I have a meeting with the venue staff and I can't be late."

The girls went to their rooms, and you asked one of your assistants to take your luggage to yours. The meeting was an hour long, but you had to be there at least twenty minutes early, so you hurried out of the hotel to the venue, to arrange everything related to the logistics of tomorrow and the day of the concert.

The meeting in question started at 1 in the afternoon and ended at 4. Then you and part of your team went to lunch, and at around 7 you were back at the hotel. Your day was not over yet, but the rest of your work could be done calmly from the comfort of your room.

Upon going up and entering your room you went straight to take a shower, then put your laptop on the desk next to the hallway and got to work, with headphones on and a can of Monster that you had bought during lunch.

Your inbox was full, and you were a bit of a workaholic, so you immediately locked in and got going. In these situations you always lost track of time, which was pretty unhealthy but you couldn't help it no matter how hard you tried. But you had to admit that this time you had gone too far, because it was 3 in the fucking morning.

There were still some things to attend to, but it was time to draw the line and set a limit, because otherwise you would end up seeing the sunrise when the next day you should be in full physical and mental prime. So you closed your laptop, rubbed your eyes and took off your headphones before standing up.

Whenever you went to sleep after sitting for a long time you had the habit of taking a walk to stretch your legs, and since there was no space in your room to do it comfortably, you opted for the hotel hallways. So you grabbed your phone, a small jar of M&M's, and left the room.

As expected, the hallways at that hour were deserted. To other people it would have seemed spooky, but to you it was relaxing for the simple fact that no noise pollution of any kind reached your ears, just the sound of the ventilation and the videos you occasionally watched on Twitter at low volume.

But soon you were no longer alone. Just as you reached the elevator to turn around and go back to your room, the elevator dinged and the doors swung wide open.

What you didn't expect was that the ones coming out of there would be two hot girls in cocktail mini dresses and high heels, and that...

Wait a fucking minute.

"Oh this has to be a fucking joke," you sighed, bringing your hands up to your face to lift your head and run both through your hair.

"M-Manager-nim, uhm, we can explain!" Chaewon hurried to say, exiting the elevator with Yunjin.

“Don’t talk to me,” you said, holding up a finger. You didn’t want to know anything, so you turned around and started walking back to your room.

“No, wait!” Yunjin said, chasing after you. “Where are you going? U-Uh… What are you going to do?”

“I said don’t talk to me,” you replied, looking ahead. The two of them walked behind you, right behind your shoulders. “I’ll report you to HYBE so you can get into trouble.”

"No! Please don't!" Chaewon pleaded, shaking your arm slightly. "No no no! We're sorry!"

"It was my idea!" Yunjin snapped. "It's just that if we told you what we were going to do, you wouldn't let us!"

"I wonder why," you said. "I can smell the alcohol coming off of you two."

"We're not even drunk!" Chaewon said. "I swear! Please forgive us!"

"I don't care, you crossed the line," you shook your head. "It would have been easier if you had just been honest with me from the start."

"So you refused to let us out?" Yunjin asked, defiant. "It was easier to just sneak out and be done with it! And besides, what the hell are you doing up at this hour?"

"Managing your reckless ass and looking out for your future. But I see you don't care about that."

At that moment you arrived in front of your door, but before you could put your hand on the knob, Chaewon stepped in between to stop you. Your bodies were very close, and only then did you pay attention to how she was dressed. It was a short, tight black dress, with a considerable neckline and long sleeves that went from her shoulders to cover her hands. She looked so hot in it that it distracted you for a moment, but not enough to forget your mission.

“Kim Chaewon, step aside,” you demanded.

“Aniyo,” she shook her head.

“Oh come on, manager-nim,” you heard Yunjin say quietly behind you, close to your ear. She put her hands on your shoulders and squeezed them gently. “Why don’t you relax a little?”

“Don’t tell me to relax when you guys lied to me so blatantly,” you replied, still looking at Chaewon. “Get out of the way.”

Chaewon glanced at Yunjin over your shoulder and showed a hint of a smile, before stepping away from your door and closing the small distance between you.

“We already told you we were sorry, manager-nim,” Chaewon said, placing a hand on your chest. You felt her breath against yours. “There’s no need to be so grumpy.”

She very subtly pressed her body tight against yours, looking into your eyes with slightly parted lips. You knew perfectly well her intentions because you were no fool, and you wanted to respectfully push her away and enter your room, but a stronger part of you kept your feet rooted there.

“Chaewon-ah…” you sighed, trying to change her mind.

Yunjin pressed herself against you as well, making you feel her chest against your back. She wrapped one arm around your abdomen and slipped the other hand into the left pocket of your sweatpants.

"Why don't you come with us to the pool so you can reconsider this whole thing?" the redhead asked in your ear.

"Yeah, I think all those emails have saturated your mind," Chaewon said, wrapping her arms around your neck. One hand stayed on your shoulder and the other went up to ruffle your hair. "Let us help you clear your head a little."

Before you could say anything, Yunjin lowered her hand from your abdomen and brought it to your bulge, just rubbing it up and down with her palm. Then any desire you had to go to your room and write that email vanished. Still, you didn't want to get too proactive just yet, you wanted to keep some of your dignity and see how far they would take it.

"So? What do you say?" Yunjin insisted, slowly making you hard. "You coming with us?"

Again the words got caught in your mouth when Chaewon suddenly pulled you into a kiss. Everything happened too fast for you to resist, and before you knew it you were wrapped up in a sensual kiss with her, your hands on that small sexy waist. Yunjin was now massaging your already hard cock, her head on the side of yours as she watched you and Chaewon kiss. That was what finally got you into the whole deal.

“You know this is wrong, right?” you asked against Chaewon’s lips, and you turned around to face Yunjin, who thanks to her heels was just as tall as you. Her dress was even shorter than Chaewon’s: burgundy velvet, strapless and an A-line skirt, perfect for showing off that perfect pair of legs. “Not only because I’m your manager, but because you have a sound check later.”

Yunjin put a hand on your shoulder and pressed herself against you. You instinctively wrapped one arm around her waist to hold her. It should have put you off by the fact that you'd never touched her like that in two years, but fuck, you were two people almost the same age, and she was a hot girl; you weren't going to miss that golden opportunity no matter how upset you were with the two of them.

"I've been on more important errands on less sleep, honey," she said, running the tip of her tongue along the side of her upper lip. Her hand still playing with your cock over your sweatpants. "So I don't care."

"Yeah, I know you don't care," you said before kissing her.

Yunjin had probably the most attractive lips you had ever seen, and it didn't surprise you that she knew how to use them so well in a kiss. Your heads went from side to side, as you tasted each other's lips and filled the hallway with wet sounds. Her hand squeezed your bulge and rubbed the outline of your cock, and you just lowered your hand from her waist to her left ass cheek and left it there.

"Hey, hurry up," Chaewon said from behind you. She had you by the waist, giving you little kisses on the back of your neck. "I want to cool off in the pool."

Yunjin pulled away from your lips and looked at Chaewon over your shoulder.

"You and I both know that's not what you want," she said with a giggle, and looked at you. "You're in then?"

"You guys dragged me in," you corrected her. "And I already have my hand on your ass. Now I have no choice."

"Then let's go!" Chaewon said, and she moved out from between you and the door to walk towards the elevator.

Yunjin gave you a couple more small kisses and took your hand to lead you to follow Chaewon. Once inside the elevator, she cornered you against the back wall and kissed you again with her hands on your neck. You returned the kiss, taking her by the waist. A few seconds later Chaewon stood to your left, and you moved away from Yunjin's lips to grab the blonde by the face and crash your lips against hers.

The floor where the pool wasn’t too high, so the kiss didn't last long. Once the elevator doors opened, the three of you walked out to a small hall before the pool area on the left. Behind the counter was only a girl who worked at the hotel. She looked up from her phone and watched you walk towards her.

"Oh, sorry, the pool is closed guys," the girl said.

"Yeah honey, we know," Yunjin said ahead, going to lean against the counter with her purse on the top. From there she pulled out five $100 bills and slid them towards the girl. "Why don't you go take a break for an hour and let us keep watch? Oh, and leave us three towels please."

The girl stared at the bills for a few long seconds until she reluctantly took them.

"You better not make a mess and not make any noise," she warned, pulling the towels out from behind the counter for you. "Because you'll get me in trouble."

"You don't have to worry, sweetheart," Yunjin said as the girl got up from her chair and walked around the counter. "We'll be ghosts."

"Just hurry up," the girl reiterated, going to take the elevator.

As the girl waited for the elevator, Yunjin led you and Chaewon by the hand towards the beautiful pool area. The first thing that stood out to you was the huge wall of windows right in front of your eyes, and the series of cube-shaped pendant lights that hung from the high ceiling and ran from one end of the pool to the other. But the overall atmosphere was modern and intimate, with the white lights of both the pool and the lower ceiling area where you were at a dim level, making a gorgeous combination with the gray matte porcelain floor and the marble walls and pillars.

Yunjin went to leave the towels on the chairs to the right, in a small raised area with white light below that had a few lounge chairs; she left the towels piled on one of them and went with Chaewon to the pool, which was L-shaped with the bottom cut out. They approached the stairs, took off their heels and dipped their feet in the water to stand on the first step.

"Oh god, the water is freezing," Chaewon said with a giggle, while Yunjin pulled her hair up into a high bun.

"It's perfect for washing down the alcohol, whatever," Yunjin said, then turned to look at you. "Ready for a little show?"

"At this point I won't be surprised by anything you two do," you replied from the raised area, arms crossed.

False. You wish you hadn't said that so you wouldn't look like a fool, as Chaewon and Yunjin both pulled their dresses up over their breasts, quite efficiently tucking the skirts at the neckline so that it held up like a top. This revealed both pairs of delicious bodies to you, as the only thing they were wearing were their respective panties. Chaewon's were white, thong-like ones. And Yunjin's were high-waisted black cheeky ones.

"What happened, manager-nim?" Chaewon asked with a giggle, seeing how you were stunned by their half naked bodies. "I thought nothing would surprise you."

"Yeah, well..." you couldn't find anything to say, and you definitely couldn't stop staring at them.

Yunjin and Chaewon laughed and went together into the pool, which was the perfect height for the three of you. While Chaewon's was shoulder-high, Yunjin's was just below her breasts. You went with them as they swam to the long end of the pool, rolling your sweatpants up to your knees, taking off your slippers, and sitting on the edge with your feet in the water.

"Huh? What are you doing there?" Yunjin asked, swimming to your feet. Chaewon swam backwards behind her, careful not to get her hair too wet. "Aren't you coming with us?" She grabbed your ankles, and you felt it as a warning.

"Uhm, I'm actually freezing," you replied, trying to get out of the situation. "I could catch a cold and die."

"Why worry about the cold when we can keep you warm down here?" Yunjin insisted, stroking your calves up and down. “Or did you forget why you came with us in the first place?”

Yunjin moved one of her hands up your calf to your crotch to meet your newly formed erection because of them. She squeezed it between her fingers and massaged it. 

You sighed.

“Are you really going to make me enter those Antarctic waters?” you asked, tilting your head.

“Oh yeah,” she nodded, biting her lip. “Unless you don’t want to get wet with us.”

“Some emotional blackmail you put on, woman,” you shook your head, and reluctantly stood up to take off your hoodie and sweatpants. Now in your boxers, you sat back down on the edge of the pool and slid in.

You gritted your teeth, tensed your body, and closed your eyes to keep from complaining, because the water was so cold that you felt it soak into your bones and freeze them. Yunjin immediately hugged you, both her arms and legs wrapped around your torso. You hugged her back, delighted to be able to feel that delicious body and that soft skin under your fingers.

"I know, I know..." Yunjin murmured, seeing that you were having a hard time with the water temperature. She made sure to be pressed against you, with as much skin as possible against yours. "Let me warm you up, manager-nim," she gave you a soft kiss. "Although I know a way to warm you up even more."

Chaewon swam to your back and hugged you and Yunjin at the same time, her chin resting on your left shoulder.

"And what way would that be?" You asked, already feeling more relieved to be in the middle of that sandwich. Your hands moved down from her waist to her buttocks, giving them a light squeeze and rubbing them up and down.

"Don't play dumb, manager-nim," Chaewon said in your ear, and slipped a hand between your body and Yunjin's to bring it inside your boxers. She grabbed your cock and held it between her fingers. "You know the answer, so you're going to say it."

"Yeah, but we know you well, and we know you won't say it that easily," Yunjin said. "So we're going to make you say it."

You chuckled.

"Are you going to drown me in the pool every time I refuse or what?"

Chaewon's response was to yank your boxers down, releasing your throbbing cock under the water. She wrapped her fingers around it, and slowly began to masturbate you. You gasped, and Yunjin smirked, unwrapping her legs from around your torso to press herself against the side of your body, leaving room for Chaewon to comfortably move her hand.

“Tell me something, manager-nim,” Chaewon murmured, giving you pecks on the side of your neck and then catching your earlobe between her lips. “In these two years, have you ever masturbated thinking about us?”

The question left you as cold as the pool water did when you got in, and your well-known answer made you blush. They were four of the stupidest hottest girls you had ever seen in your life, and they were all recently at their peak of hotness; it had to happen sooner or later for you.

“I...” you took a deep breath, trying not to look Yunjin in the eyes out of embarrassment.

“You have, huh?” Yunjin said, her gaze fixed on you. She held onto your shoulders with one arm while rubbing your abdomen with the other. "You don't have to be ashamed... it's not like we blame you. I've been given outfits that leave little to the imagination."

"How did you imagine us, manager nim?" Chaewon asked in a sexy murmur, still moving her hand on your cock. "Doggy style? From behind against the wall? Us riding you?"

"Or maybe sucking your cock?" Yunjin said, to spread kisses on your cheek near your lips. "Did you imagine my pretty lips around it?"

"I'm sure you also imagined yourself pounding my tight pussy," Chaewon said, moving her hand faster. Yunjin replaced it a couple seconds later.

"Or me jumping on your cock," the redhead said, jerking you off at a fast, steady pace. "Come on, don't be shy, manager-nim. Tell us."

"Please, manager-nim," Chaewon moaned into your ear, massaging your balls before replacing Yunjin's hand with her own. "We want to know."

You would have loved to be able to say something, but Chaewon was moving her hand so well on your cock that you were lost in the limbo of the physical and spiritual realm. You were brought out of your trance by her abruptly stopping her hand from moving.

"Ugh, no!" you whined, clenching your fists. Yunjin and Chaewon giggled.

"Then answer," Yunjin said, circling your tip with her index finger. "Have you masturbated to us or not?"

"Fuck, yes," you huffed. "More times than I'd like to admit."

Yunjin was the one in charge of grabbing your cock again and resuming the handjob, now faster.

"See? It wasn't that hard," Yunjin said with a giggle.

"You're such a pervert, manager-nim," Chaewon said, kissing your neck, while her hands roamed your chest. "Why don't we go outside and let us finish the work? Then maybe we can fulfill some of your little fantasies."

"What if the worker comes?" you said between gasps, since Yunjin was still jerking you off. "I don't want to get kicked out of the hotel with two days left here in New York."

"It's only been 10 minutes," Yunjin said, and let go of your cock. "We've got a good while left to have some fun."

"Then hurry up and get out," you said, trying to get out of the way of the two of them.

Chaewon and Yunjin stepped away from you and swam towards the pool stairs. You followed close behind. As you climbed out of the water you took the lead, heading straight to the small raised area near the exit to grab a towel and dry yourself off as much as you could, having to remove your boxers so as not to wet the lounge chair once you lay down on it. The girls certainly didn't mind, in fact they followed your lead and removed their panties, keeping their dresses bunched up around their chests.

They knelt on their lounge chairs facing you, and bent forward to bring their faces close to your cock, giving you a hot view of their arched backs and wonderfully raised cakes. You weren't shy at all, and as they peppered each side of your shaft with kisses and licks, you groped and squeezed their ass cheeks.

"Fuck, you have a very juicy cock, manager-nim," Chaewon panted, one hand on your thigh and the other around the base of your cock.

"I always knew he was packed," Yunjin said, stroking your cock from the middle up. You looked at her with a frown. "I should have seduced him earlier; now I see I had it pretty easy."

"Are you calling me a slut?" you asked between gasps, making them laugh.

"Considering how quickly you gave in," she shrugged and pondered the answer for a moment. "Yes."

Before you could answer Chaewon took you into her mouth, slowly pumping her head for a few inches and making you gasp. Yunjin joined in by using her tongue on your base and balls. You leaned forward a little, so you could extend your arms further and get your fingers between their ass cheeks and finger their pussies.

Chaewon moaned around your cock, quickly taking as much of your length into her small mouth as she could to pump faster and faster. A few seconds later she pulled out, giving way to Yunjin's perfect lips, which wrapped around your tip and went halfway down before coming back, in a pace that soon became fast and messy.

You rubbed your fingers between their soft and already wet folds as you watched Chaewon give you a sloppy blowjob, in aid of Yunjin's tongue and lips on the rest of your shaft. You didn't want to cum too fast to prolong that experience as much as possible, so you looked up and left your gaze on the cube-shaped lamps while you gasped.

But as hard as you were trying, Chaewon and Yunjin forced you to watch as they both slurped the saliva they themselves left on your cock, over and over again in a toe curling double blowjob that had you moaning like the slut Yunjin said you were. A few long seconds passed, until you couldn't control it, and you came as they were making out with your tip in the middle.

"Oh god!" You moaned, watching as Yunjin and Chaewon were still kissing each other even as your cum poured out in thick rivers and stained their tongues and mouths. They lapped up every drop, glad to swallow as much of your load as they could before using their mouths to get your cock clean and shiny again.

You didn't wait for either of them to say anything before you got up from your chair and went to kneel on the floor behind Chaewon, grabbing her firm ass cheeks and planting your face between them.

"Oh fuck!" she moaned in a small start, feeling your tongue move up and down her folds. "You were hungry for it weren't you?"

"You have no idea how much," you replied, squeezing her ass cheeks and eating her pussy like deep down you always wanted to do.

Within a few seconds Chaewon let her moans flow, soon drowned out by a kiss against Yunjin's lips. You devoured that tight pussy with devotion, with the sole goal of making her feel as good as she had made you feel just a couple of minutes ago. She let you know you were doing a good job by twisting her hips and pushing them back, urging you to keep going until you made her cum.

Her climax came not long after, thanks to the quick licks you gave to her clit and the intense way you groped her ass. She fell back with her hands braced against the chair Yunjin was on, writhing between cute moans and spasms.

“My god!” Chaewon groaned as you licked and kissed between her folds. “Why did you never say I was this good at eating pussy?!”

“I remind you that I’m your manager, Kim Chaewon,” you said, and stood up to spank her. An intrusive thought you let win. “I don’t think it would have been appropriate to tell you two days after your debut.”

“Ugh why now we women are the ones who have to make the first move!” she whined, now lying on her side to look at you with that adorable, usual expression she made when she got angry.

"I wasn't going to risk my career on whether you wanted cock or not. Don't be a bitch," you said, and walked around the front of the chairs to climb onto Yunjin's, who immediately hugged you by the neck and kissed you, pressing your torsos together and making your cock rub against her lower abdomen.

After a few seconds of making out with Yunjin you grabbed her by the thighs and made her sit down, with her back against the slanted back of the chair. You sat on the lower edge with your knees resting on the floor, leaning forward and bringing your mouth directly to Yunjin's pussy.

"Oh fuck yeah," Yunjin moaned, one hand on your head as you ate her out. "I should sneak around more often if this is the result."

"Don't push your fucking luck," you muttered, making her laugh. "If you want me to eat your pussy you just have to ask me nicely."

Yunjin moaned as you reached her clit and sucked gently on it.

"Mmmgh, really?" she asked, arching her back a little.

You smiled.

"Yeah, just fax me and get in line."

"Son of a bitch!" Yunjin squealed in annoyance and pulled at your hair, but her anger didn't last long as it didn't stop you from trying to give her the best pussy eating of her life.

Yunjin relaxed in the chair, leaning back and with her legs wide open to let you work. As the seconds passed she became more restless: she arched her back, tugged at your hair and breathed more heavily, until she ended up enclosing your head between her thighs. The grip was strong, with her calves crossed on your back, and you felt your head about to explode, but that was just like coal to your boiler.

"Fuck! Mmmgh!" Yunjin moaned, fingers clenching in your hair as you attacked her pussy mercilessly. “Right there manager-nim, yes, yes!”

Seconds later Yunjin exploded in your mouth, lifting her pelvis and holding onto your head with both hands. She bucked in her chair, moaning maybe a little too loudly, so you reached up and covered her mouth with your hand as her orgasm passed. When it did, she released your head and you pulled away from her pussy.

“Let’s go to my room right now,” you said, standing up to go get your clothes.

“What, why?” Chaewon asked. “We still have like half an hour.”

“If I fuck you guys the way I want to I’ll lose track of time,” you replied, picking up your sweatpants to put them on without your boxers as they were still wet. “And I don’t want the worker to come and find us in the middle of intercourse.”

"Yeah, that's fair," Chaewon said, and stood up to grab a towel and wrap it around her waist.

Once you were dressed you went to help Yunjin stand up and do the same as Chaewon did. You then grabbed all the wet underwear, wrung it out in a corner and carried it in your hand as the three of you left the pool area heading for the elevator. Upon reaching your floor you rushed to your room, and once inside, the two of them removed both their towels and what was left of their dresses from their bodies to jump into bed.

You stripped down at lightning speed and climbed into bed with them. Chaewon greeted you with her legs spread as you climbed on top of her to kiss her, wrapping her arms and legs around you. Yunjin settled on the left side next to Chaewon, and reached between your bodies to reach for your cock and stroke it; she had it hard in a moment, and without either of you asking, she took it inside Chaewon's pussy.

Chaewon squealed, and bit your lip unintentionally in shock. She dug her nails into your scalp, slightly tense as your cock forced its way between the tight walls of her pussy. You continued to kiss her, stifling moans of satisfaction until you finished with your entire length inside her.

"Mmmgh, manager-nim?" Chaewon moaned against your lips.

"Yes?" you gasped.

"Next time be a little bolder and ask me," she panted, stroking the hair on the back of your neck. "I can't believe I'm finding this out two years later."

"Or I could just sneak into your room and fuck you like the whore you are every chance I get," you replied in a sarcastic tone, beginning to move slowly.

"Oh, would you do that?" Chaewon asked with a giggle.

"Jeez, you're hopeless," you shook your head, moving from her lips to her neck to kiss it.

"You can always pretend you have an emergency and woosh! Catch him," Yunjin said from your left, kissing the other side of Chaewon's neck.

"Great Jennifer, give her ideas," you said between gasps, enjoying the way that tight pussy suffocated your cock every time it went inside. "As if I don't have enough with all the shit you two do on a daily basis already."

"You're overreacting, manager-nim," Chaewon moaned, tightening her grip on your torso, hands now on your neck. "We're not that unruly. But you made a big mistake, because now we're really gonna be bad bitches for this cock."

Mother of god, where the fuck have you gotten yourself into?

You forced Chaewon to release your torso and straightened your back to put her legs open, one over Yunjin, and with your hands on her thighs you began to go harder and harder. Chaewon sought out Yunjin's lips, and the two of them shared a steamy, sexy kiss as you fucked her pussy and made her moan against the redhead's lips.

Yunjin played with Chaewon's perky tits, pinching her nipples and massaging her mounds in the process, then moving her hand down her abdomen and to her pussy to rub her clit in quick circles. Chaewon pulled away from Yunjin's lips and arched her back, holding Yunjin's head with one arm and clutching a pillow over her head with the other.

"Does that feel good, Chaewonie?" Yunjin asked, bringing her mouth closer to one of Chaewon's tits to suck on it, circling her clit faster. You thrust harder, pounding that pussy between moans and with your fingers digging into her thighs.

"It's the best cock I've ever had in my fucking life!" Chaewon moaned, her mouth parted and her eyes fixed on you. "Please don't stop!"

Yunjin focused on licking Chaewon's nipple and moving her fingers faster, while you leaned forward a little just so you could thrust faster. Chaewon started moaning so loud that the very pillow she was clinging to became her muzzle, which she bit down on before covering her face with. An instant later she uncovered her face and exploded with a squeal, squeezing your cock as her orgasm made her shudder.

"Mmmm that's so fucking hot," Yunjin groaned, and got on her hands and knees beside Chaewon to reach over to her crotch, pulling your cock out of her pussy and bringing it into her mouth to suck on it for a few seconds. "You want me to ride you?" she asked.

"Who wouldn't want to be ridden by you?" you asked, and she smiled slowly stroking your cock.

"Wow, you're getting more and more points every time," she giggled. "This was quite a triple."

Yunjin made room for you to lay down in her spot with your head on the pillow. Already settled she straddled you, her pussy pressed against the back of your cock. She made eye contact with you as she untied her hair, and as she let it go she placed her hands on your chest and slowly ground her hips back and forth to rub your intimacies together.

"Are you gonna keep teasing me, Jennifer?" you asked with your hands on her thighs, looking into her eyes.

"Why? Are you desperate to be inside me, manager-nim?" she asked back and bent over you, running her hands up to cup your face. You brought your hands to her waist and then to her ass to squeeze it. "I think you want it even more than I do."

"You better shut the fuck up," you said, and reached for your cock to press it between Yunjin's folds. She giggled, and cooperated by slowly lowering her hips until she was fully impaled on your shaft.

"Oh god this feels better than I expected," Yunjin moaned with her ass resting on your pelvis and her hands on your shoulders. "I hope you know you just created a monster."

"I remind you again that I'm your manager, woman," you panted as she began to move up and down. "You're playing with fire and you might burn me by accident."

"Don't be like that, baby," she panted, giving you small kisses as she moved gradually harder. You had her red hair all over your face, but that and you groping her ass only made it hotter. "No one has to find out, right? It'll be our little secret."

“As you wish,” you replied, squeezing her ass cheeks before dropping your hands to the sides of her lower back. “But if it starts to affect your career or mine I will turn you off immediately.”

“Deal,” Yunjin said with a smirk, and crashed her lips against yours before going wild.

Yunjin grabbed your face and stuck her tongue inside your mouth, seeking to take control of the kiss. You happily gave in, content to let her do whatever she wanted with you as long as she kept moving on your cock, with those hip movements that were slow, deep, and deadly. After a few seconds she moved to your neck, to fill it with sucks, kisses, and finally biting you. She cried out when you spanked her with both hands, which prompted her to move faster and with less control.

"Hey, don't even think about leaving me out," you heard Chaewon say on the left, and she somewhat roughly pushed Yunjin off your chest to climb on top of you and sit on your face with her calves on your arms.

With your view now blocked by Chaewon's ass you had no choice but to adapt to the situation and put your mouth and hands to work. She pushed her hips back, smothering you between her perfect ass cheeks, which you held onto to spread  them and allow yourself to breathe while you ate her pussy.

"Can't you stop seeking attention for five minutes?" Yunjin asked Chaewon, planting her feet on the mattress to squat on your cock, fast and hard. "Oh god I was riding him so good!"

"And now you're bouncing on his cock," Chaewon replied between moans, her hands on your chest. You could hear her sharing sloppy kisses with Yunjin. "What's the fucking difference?"

“That I like looking into guys' eyes while I ride them!” Yunjin protested, moaning louder and louder as she bounced faster on your cock.

Chaewon didn’t say anything else as the two of them began to kiss and muffle their moans against each other’s lips until Yunjin came, grinding her hips with your cock buried deep in her pussy and shaking on top of you. Her orgasm having passed, Yunjin climbed off you and collapsed to the side. Chaewon then raised her hips and knelt beside your head.

“Manager-nim,” Chaewon told you as you sat up, staring at you with those puppy subby eyes. “You’re not going to tell HYBE anything about us sneaking out tonight, are you?”

You looked at her with a poker face.

"What kind of dishonest man do you take me for? Of course not," you replied, brushing a lock of sweaty blonde hair from her cheek. "Next time just tell me and I'll go with you."

Chaewon's eyes lit up like two cute lanterns.

"Really?"

"Aha," you nodded. "Only if you're a good girl and get on your hands and knees for me."

Chaewon complied with the order and turned around to bend forward and rest her hands on the mattress, knees apart and ass raised high for you. You positioned yourself behind her, and with one hand on her waist you went back inside the tightest pussy you'd ever been in. She looked at you over her shoulder and hugged the same pillow from a moment ago tightly, biting it the moment you started to thrust.

The view you had was perfect, and enviable to the you of a few months ago, who could only access it through a very lucky wet dream. But now it was for real: you had a hot view of Kim Chaewon, with that appetizing ass that looked small but whose shape was perfect, and that milky attractive back that had you salivating since the Smart stages.

"Go hard, honey," Chaewon moaned, still looking at you. "Please forget your position and fuck me like I'm all yours."

"Oh, if you insist that much," you nodded slowly, and let out a spank so hard that the shape of your hand was instantly marked in red. Chaewon squealed into the pillow. You then started going really hard on her, making the sound of her ass slapping against your pelvis reverberate through your room.

"Fuck! Just like that!" Chaewon squealed, and buried her face into the pillow. You gave her another spank to make her scream. "Fuck!! More!" another spank. "MORE!!"

One more spank, and this time you grabbed a handful of her blonde hair and pulled it back, in turn separating Chaewon's face from the pillow. Now her moans were fully audible as you pounded her pussy like she was a human fleshlight.

Yunjin had already recovered, and without asking Chaewon's permission, she did her best to get under her and stack their pussies together. Before the baby tiger could protest, Yunjin began kissing every corner of her face and neck to make her melt quite efficiently, as Chaewon was still entirely focused on you and your cock.

"God you are such a pillow slut," Yunjin teased Chaewon, grabbing her ass cheeks and spanking her in the same spots as you. "A little more and you'll be calling him daddy."

"Stop giving her ideas, Jennifer!" you growled through clenched teeth at how good Chaewon's pussy felt in that position.

"I'm gonna cum daddy! Mmmgh fuck!!" Chaewon squealed, burying her face in Yunjin's neck.

"Late," Yunjin laughed looking at you. You just shook your head. "It's your fault for falling into our trap."

"Listen here you little piece of..." you said, being interrupted by Chaewon's orgasm and cute whimpers. You placed a hand on her lower back, fucking her slowly until her body stopped shaking. Then you pulled out of her pussy to switch directly to Yunjin's.

"Hey!" Yunjin squealed when you got balls deep inside her again. "Warn me!"

"For what?" you raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure you got down there because you were desperate for me to be inside you again."

Yunjin blushed and rolled her eyes, which was enough to prove you right. You smiled, and grabbed her thighs to press them against Chaewon's. With her, you took off at full speed from the start, already in search of your own climax, which was only getting closer by leaps and bounds.

Yunjin clung to Chaewon with her arms around her neck, moaning in her ear as you hammered her pussy even harder than Chaewon. Sweat was already pouring down your temples, proof that you were giving it your all when you were already exhausted after so many hours of work. It was definitely worth it, because just like Chaewon's, Yunjin's pussy felt so good that it made you use energy reserves you didn't even know you had.

But what kept you going at your best wasn't that, it was the possibility of seeing those two girls go crazy with pleasure thanks to you, and Yunjin's face being fucked mercilessly was like an expensive piece of art in the Louvre museum, especially when a couple of minutes later she came for the second time on your cock.

"Dear fucking lord please cum honey!" Yunjin screamed as you fucked her like an animal through her orgasm. "Oh my god cum!!"

Seconds later, when you felt yourself about to explode, you quickly pulled yourself out of her and went to kneel right next to both of their heads. They both turned their faces towards you, and stuck their tongues out as you stroked your cock rapidly, until with a loud moan you exploded.

The thick strings of cum came out in strong jets and landed on both of their angelic faces, every corner being painted white and getting sticky. What fell on Chaewon's face spilled onto Yunjin's, who collected most of the drops in a pool on her tongue. By the time your climax passed those two were a mess, so covered in cum that Chaewon kept one eye closed and Yunjin had her lips stuffed.

"Oh my god..." you gasped, mesmerized by the sight. "Stay there."

Even though you felt on the verge of collapse, your protective manager instinct kicked in and you were forced to go to the bathroom to get some toilet paper and help them clean themselves up. But as you did so, you realized something that you hadn't realized in all the fuss, something that left you staring into space.

Sakura's room was right next door.

Shit.

[mochinomnoms]

say you can't sleep, baby, I know

NSFW!Trey x Reader

Synopsis

You're doing this on purpose, aren't you? You're trying to rile him up, right? He's supposed to be the responsible, big brother of Heartslabyul, he tries so hard. So, so hard to stay out of trouble and have a normal day-to-day life. Trey used to pride himself on his levelheadedness and restraint, but that all went out the window into a swan dive into the lake when he saw you in his bed in that damn one-piece. “Happy Birthday Trey~”

[wc} - 5,258

[cw/tags] - afab!gn!reader (im sorry folks it's all i know how to write still), NRC is a university in this, domesticity kink, birthday sex, breeding kink (sue me), oral (giving & receiving), trey can be a little mean as a treat

[notes] - i apologize for the person i've become after seeing trey's new b-day card. it does things to me and this is 100% self-indulgent for me. also, tried to use very neutral descriptors for reader so tell me how that went and if it reads well! lastly, the outfit the reader wears is based on sabrina carpenter's outfits from her short n' sweet tour, specifically the baby doll one!

Written while listening to “Espresso” by Sabrina Carpenter, I recommend listening to it while reading :)

Let’s consider exactly the type of person Trey is.

Ever since he’s started school at NRC, he’s always taken a bit of a parental role in Heartslabyul, even before he became vice housewarden. Even Cater would joke about it when they first became friends:

“You’re, like, a total big bro! O-M-G, no! You’re like a dad friend! I’m totes willing to bet that the incoming freshmen are gonna slip up! Call you Dad or something!”

Evidently, when Riddle came into the picture and Trey was appointed his vice, Cater was proven right. He didn’t mind it too much, despite what others might think. 

He liked the familiarity of it, being the oldest at home, it translated well into his position at Heartslabyul, and it came with the added bonus of being able to minimize any chaos that arose. 

That was his main goal, especially with Riddle’s temper during his freshman and at the beginning of his sophomore year. Honestly, he had phenomenal conflict resolution skills, and he just wanted to make his life as easy as possible. 

Everyone at this school liked to make that difficult, though, especially the freshmen of this year.

“Oh fu—I mean sh—dam—fuc—shi—FIDDLESTICKS!”

“Dude, just say fuck, why you gotta say the corniest shit—OW—Treyyy! Deuce hit me!”

Deuce had a guilty look on his face as Trey looked up from his notebook to raise a brow at the two.

“W-well, Ace cussed, so he has to put money in the swear jar!”

“Aw what! Come on Trey!” Ace whined, shoving Deuce’s face to the side as the latter grunted and started pulling at his cheeks and arm. “Riddle’s not here, he’ll never know, so I don’t gotta! Don’t make me!”

Trey simply smirked and gestured to the jar on the fireplace mantle, helpfully available to everyone in the lounge. 

“You know the rules, bud, two thaurmarks for the f-bomb and a .50 cent for the other.”

Ace tossed his head back and groaned, begrudgingly dragging himself over to the jar as he dug around his pocket for change.

“Don’t be rude to your father, Ace.” A few giggles and snorts vibrated amongst the small group studying in the lounge as you wagged a finger at Ace, Grim squinting angrily at the book in your lap. 

Your lips quivered as you hid a laugh, jokingly chastising the ginger. 

“No need to be a brat.”

Trey had to withhold a snort at that comment, rich coming from you. He knew better than anyone that you could be as much of a brat as you were another parental figure.

“Oh ha-ha, very funny, Prefect. What, does that make you, Mom or Dad 2?” Ace stuck his tongue out at you as you grinned and focused back on Grim. 

“Okay Grimmy, so remember, what alchemy recipes need mandrake root?”

Watching from the corner of his eye, Trey watched fondly as you murmured soft words to Grim. It reminded him of his Mom talking to his siblings after a nightmare, or of his Dad after one of them would get hurt in the kitchen. 

Soft, soothing, parental. You’d make an excellent parent one day. 

Trey felt himself get warm at the thought, adjusting himself in his seat and looking back at his musicology notes. He couldn’t sing very well, but he can memorize notes, and that’s what the upcoming exam was focused on. 

That’s what he needed to focus on, not the way you cradled Grim against you like a parent with their child. Focus on his alchemy flashcards, and not the way you cleaned up the mess on the table so you could bring everyone a tray of snacks he’d prepared earlier that day. Focus on the history textbook in front of him, and not the way you cleaned up the lounge as it got later and later.

It wasn’t fair. It was so unfair how well you fell into the role. Cleaning and humming, one of his spare aprons on you as you wiped down the tables of crumbs and stacked a pile of dishes. It was unfair how sweetly you murmured to the few remaining students, and told them to go to bed and rest up. 

They obliged, probably half asleep at this rate, since it was an hour until midnight. Ace and Deuce had retired a while ago, the latter leaning on the former as they haphazardly stumbled to their room. 

Riddle had dropped by after his housewarden meeting, satisfied by the study group, but ultimately stuck to his very strict evening routine. 

Now it was just you two. Even Grim had been tugged along with Ace and Deuce earlier, not unlike a rag doll slung over their shoulders. 

“Trey? Honey, when are you going to sleep? It’s almost midnight.” His eyes fluttered tiredly as he felt your hands slide over his shoulders and a kiss pressed against his temple.

He felt warm again, heat pooling in his belly. You were so unfair. 

“You should go to bed soon, come on, I’ll take care of you.”

He can think of a few ways you could ‘take care’ of him. 

“It’s fine, why don’t you get Grim and head back to Ramshackle? Curfew is in 30 minutes, you know?”

You rolled your eyes, sighing into his ear, making a tingle go down his spine.

“Okay, but please go to bed soon? I left you a little birthday surprise in your bedroom~”

Trey perked up at that, eyeing your mischievous grin as you waved your fingers goodbye, going down the hallway to the dorms to grab Grim.

To be honest, he’d forgotten that his birthday was tomorrow, he’d been so focused on his midterms that it just slipped his mind. Well, he can’t say he’s not excited to see what you got him, especially since you’d been not too subtly probing him for preferences.

He groaned, running his hands over his face and sighing, heavy and exhausted.

“Ugh, just a bit more and I’ll retire for the night.” Trey reassured himself, eyes straining as he looked between the books in front of him. 

The words on the papers blurred after a bit, the sound of the grandclock lulling him further into sleep, his head nodding off until a ping from his phone started him awake.

It was Cater, his Magicam user popping up on his screen. 

cay-cay_diamond: hbd trey!! 🥳🎉🎉🎉grats on being an old man now!

Blinking at the clock, Trey realized that it was now a few minutes past midnight, so it was technically his birthday. He’s lucky that Riddle followed his own sleep schedule so rigorously, or else he’d be getting a scolding for breaking curfew.

luckyclover: Old? I’m only like 4 months older than you cay-cay_diamond: yeah. old. cay-cay_diamond: anyways! enjoy the gift in ur room!!! i helped (name) pick out the wrapping 😘😘😘

Trey hummed, a small smile on his face as he imagined the two of you bickering over wrapping paper and messily wrapping up a box with a bow. You did seem very excited for him to find it earlier, maybe you two picked something out together. 

He was curious on what exactly you got him and why you hadn’t waited to give it to him at his actual birthday party. And why did you need Cater to help you…you’d always shoo him away when he’d tried helping you with gifts for other’s birthdays. 

Stacking his books into his left hand and walking towards the junior dorm rooms, Trey looked at his phone as it pinged again. 

cay-cay_diamond: on that topic thooo…u should rly go 2 ur room and get ur present! the poor thing! they’ve been w8ing very patiently 4 u~ luckyclover: Waiting? (Name)??? cay-cay_diamond: 🤭🤫😉

Trey sighed, shaking his head and tucking his phone away and digging out his room keys. It was times like these, deep into the night, when he was thankful for having his own room. He felt a bit bad now, you probably fell asleep in his bed waiting for him. 

Though, the thought of you clutching one of his pillows, maybe in one of his sweaters to keep warm, made him smile. Then he could come in, gently take your clothes and shoes off to get you more comfortable, and dress down himself to slip in right behind you.

As he finally managed to get to his room, he heard shuffling as he turned the keys. Trey smirked, noticing that only his rose lamp remained on, and all the drapes to his canopy were now closed. 

He could just barely make out the shadow of you moving behind them, hearing you gasp and the bed squeak, making him let out a soft laugh under his breath.

“You’re breaking curfew, you should be asleep you know? You're such a troublemaker sometimes.” Trey teased you as placed his books on his desk, tossing his hat onto its stand and slipping his shoes off to throw them into his wardrobe and grab his slippers. 

He yawned, the late night really starting to sink into his body as he started undressing, his jacket and vest getting hung back up in the closet as he worked on his sash and unbuttoning his pants.  

“Only like a third of the time!” You whined, the bed softly squeaking as you followed his movements behind the canopy. “Besides, I really wanted to give you your present. Don’t you want to unwrap me?”

Trey paused at the purr in your voice, narrowing his gaze as he saw your hand ever so slightly move the curtain at the end of the bed to peek at him. You were still mostly shrouded in darkness, but there was a very soft glow coming from inside the canopy, so he could just barely make out your mischievous smile.

Though, you quickly frowned, eyeing him up and down out of concern. 

“Not if you’re too tired though, you have bags under your eyes, Trey. Do you just wanna go to sleep?”

Giving you a weary smile, Trey finally tossed his sash to the side and reached for the curtains, pushing them to the side to finally take a look at your “mysterious” present. 

“In a bit, let me see what you got me…”

Trey’s breath hitched, he suddenly felt very wide awake as his eyes roamed up and down your body. 

From the corner of his eye, he could see that you set up string lights along the top of the canopy for ambiance, making you look like you were almost glowing. Though it wasn’t that that made him lose his voice. 

You were sitting on the edge of his bed with your legs curled underneath you, dressed in the most darling sage-green, sheer baby doll dress. The dress's puffy sleeves and hem were lacy, matching the lace on the stockings. 

Holy shit you were wearing stockings.

“Ha, I wanted to surprise you, I thought you could use a stress reliever.”

You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?

“I should’ve realized that you’d be tired from studying for midterms, sorry.”

You're trying to rile him up, right?

“But, still, do you like it? I wrapped myself up just for you~”

He's supposed to be the responsible, big brother of Heartslabyul, he tries so hard. So, so hard to stay out of trouble and have a normal day-to-day life. To behave.

“In any case,” You shifted onto your knees, the dress splitting in the middle, the only thing keeping it together being a small bow at the base of your neck, revealing the lack of undergarments, just your bare skin underneath. “Even if you’re too tired and just want to sleep, I just wanted to say…”

Trey leaned in as you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in, batting your eyelashes and ghosting your lips over his with a teasing smile. Your hands caressed the back of his neck, a thumb rubbing soothing circles, making him melt. 

“Happy Birthday Trey~”

It’s now that he noticed that you even added a gloss to your lips, and he could smell the warm perfume on your neck as you pressed your lips to his, tongue swiping over his mouth, asking for permission to enter. Obliging, Trey sighed into the kiss and tangled his tongue with yours, his hands slipping underneath the baby doll and squeezing at your waist.

He really should go to sleep. He has to wake up early for the party. He has to dress in his birthday robes. He has to make sure that the others don’t burn down the kitchen or damage his expensive bakeware as they made his cake. 

But the way your skin felt under his gloved hands, skin meeting skin, lace, skin, and lace again.

How could he be expected to sleep now?

Trey used to pride himself on his level headedness and restraint, but that all went out the window into a swan dive into the lake when he saw you in his bed in that damn one-piece.

Humming in delight against your mouth, Trey slid his hands down, as you curled into his body in response, and squeezed at the fat of your thighs before picking you up. 

A yelp left your mouth as he picked you up and tossed you up the bed, pulling off his shirt and tossing it behind him as he crawled on top of you.

His tongue darted out to wet his lips as he saw the way the dress fell open to expose your body, your chest moving up and down as you watched him with a giddy smile. 

“Oh! I guess you’re not that tired—ah!”

You gasped as Trey grabbed your calves, tugging you up to place the back of your knees on his shoulders. He leaned in to press a chaste kiss to your right thigh, smirking against the lace. 

“I was tired. I should be asleep,” Trey murmured against your stocking laced skin, pressing kisses as he went farther and farther down. “Resting—kiss—Up—kiss—but no.”

He gave you a half-hearted glare, which you responded with a smile and lacing your hands through his hair as he pressed another kiss to the bend where your thigh met your sex. 

“You broke curfew, you wanted to keep me up with your little ‘present’, you know I’d get in trouble for hiding you out in my room.”

Trey gave you a bite on your thigh, groaning as he felt your hands tighten in his hair, moving back to press a soothing kiss to the mark he left.

“Are you trying to get me in trouble? Throw me in the doghouse?”  “Cause I’ll make sure you come right with me, after a little taste of my birthday treat.”

The same time he ran his tongue up your sex, Trey could feel you shiver and pull on his hair as he ate you feverishly, like a man starved from food or water for ages. 

“Mmm! Trey!” You threw your head back, bringing one hand up to slam a hand over your mouth to muffle your cries, the walls here weren’t known to be sound-proof. 

He should probably care a bit more, especially when you let out a particularly high-pitched squeal as his tongue began fucking into your hole. 

“Trey! Oooh, Trey~” 

Bringing a finger to join his tongue, Trey smiled against your skin as you squeezed your thighs around his head, using his free hand to push his pants and underwear down to palm at his dick. 

“Trey—aaaah—wait, let me—mmph—Honey—” You let out a shuddering gasp, pulling his head up from your sex. Trey locked eyes with you, leaning into the hand you slid down to cup his cheek and caress his lower lips, wiping the slick and drool from the corner of his mouth.

“Yes? Honey?” Removing his hand from inside you to cover your own hand and kiss your palm, Trey smiled and hummed, “I like that, you know, reminds me of a husband coming home to his spouse.”

Pressing kisses up your body, soft and tingly, up your neck, and back to your lips where they belonged.

“Hmm, I really like the sound of that, (Name) Clover.” You murmured against his lips, smiling as you wrapped a leg around his waist to bring his dick closer to your sex, rubbing against him as you both sighed into each other’s mouths. 

“Is that what you want? You want me to be a cute little spouse? Dress up in a cute apron? Greet you when you come home from work?”

So focused on the softness of your lips and the wetness sliding against his dick, Trey didn’t even notice you twisting your body to turn him onto his back, the back of his head hitting the back of his pillows as you sat on top with a cheeky grin. 

“Hm? How would my husband want me to welcome him home? A hug? A kiss? Mm, what about…me?” Trey watched you with flushed cheeks as you kissed down his body, mimicking his earlier actions as you helped him tug off the rest of his clothes. 

“Oh, how nice it would be for you to come back to a warm, clean home with a spouse…” Looking up at him through your eyelashes and giving him a kitten lick to his tip. “...ready to give soft wet holes for you to fill~”

Giving him a vision into that sweet, sweet future, you swallowed his tip, down his shaft, and started sucking. 

“Haaah—”

Trey lolled his head back into his pillow, letting out a breathless moan as you bobbed your head up and down his length, your hand working the rest that didn’t fit into your mouth. 

“Fuuuuck. That does sound nice—mmh!” Reaching his hand down, you immediately took one of your hands to lace it with his, squeezing it as you hummed around his cock. 

“My lovely spouse—nnnngh—their pretty mouth—unnnh—soft holes—aaaah—all for me to come home to every day, what a dream~”

A particularly harsh suck made Trey arch his back and squeeze your hand harder, a giggle vibrating his dick as you pulled off. 

“Hehe, is this your way of proposing? Kinda dirty to do it with your dick on my mouth.” You giggled, pressing kisses and quick licks along his shaft. 

“That’s okay though, you and I both know that deep down, you’re a bit of a pervert. Right?”

Trey scoffed, tugging you up with a bemused smile. “Yeah? How can you tell? Thought I hid that pretty well.”

A soft laugh escaping you, you held both of his hands, bringing them up to press kisses on his knuckles, making the green-haired man sigh fondly. 

“The way you look at me sometimes, like you’re undressing me. It makes me feel all warm and tingly, especially when I piss you off.”

Both of you let out a breathless moan as your wetness rubbed against his hard dick, grinding against one another as the tip occasionally caught against your hole, making you shiver. 

“Is it bad that sometimes I wanna get you mad so you’ll fuck me real mean? Is it bad that I want you to use me? To fuck your stress out with me?”

A lump forming in his throat, Trey let go of your hands to pull at the string holding your flimsy baby doll together. Eyes half lidded, he pushed the fabric off your shoulders, watching it pool at your elbows as you placed your hands on his chest to steady yourself as your grinding turned into vigorous humping against him, making you both gasp in pleasure. 

“Ooh, Trey, honey, baby, hubby~ Won’t you use me? Be a little mean? Pleeeease? Fuck me, fill me up like I know you want! Pleeeeease Trey? Pretty, pretty please?”

Lips smashed against yours as Trey bolted up, groaning into your mouth as he grabbed your hips in an almost painful grip. 

He picked you up once again, throwing you on all fours, covers tangling against your knees and hands, as he ripped your dress off and tossed it. 

Trey’s left hand placed itself on your hip, while his right pushed down on your back, following up your spine to the base of your neck where he pushed you down to shove your face into the sheets, forcing you into a doggy pose.

“So you do like getting me in trouble, little brat. Fine, I’ll be mean.” 

Trey lined his dick against your throbbing hole, leaning down to press a tender kiss to your ear and moving the hand on your neck to wove with your right, squeezing it reassuringly. 

“Squeeze three times if you need me to stop, otherwise, I’m going to fuck that brain right out of your pretty little head, since you don’t seem to be wanting to use it.”

In one, swift move, Trey slammed his hips to your ass, sinking nearly half his length into your warm, waiting hole. 

“FUCK! YES—MMMPH” Burying your face into the sheets to muffle your cries, Trey did the same into your shoulder, shivering at your tightness around him. 

Setting a rhythm, hips smacking into your ass, Trey worked the rest of his cock into you until he could hear the smack of your ass against his hips, the sound echoing with the creak of the bed.

Your tightness around him was heavenly, as was the sight of you sinking further into the bed and arching your ass to sloppily meet his thrusts. Straightening again, bending your arm back so that your hands could remain intertwined.

His left hand caressed your back and the fat of your behind, before bringing it down in a harsh slap to your ass, making you yelp and squeeze his hand in a vice grip, though you also tightened around his cock. 

Rubbing a soothing circle against the reddening skin, slowed his thrusts, making you whine and push against him. 

“Haaah, that okay? Feel good?” Trey murmured, smiling at the frantic nod and wiggle against him. “Want me to keep going?”

“Mmmph... yessshh... mmmore, mmmore... pleeeashh, honey~” Your sounds were muffled as you bit into the blanket, getting higher and higher as he obliged, not one to deny you after all. 

Every other thrust was met with a slap to one cheek, then the other, the skin turning redder and redder with his handprints marking you. The harder he went, the more and more slack you went, until he was eventually just fucking you like his personal toy. 

Though, you did offer yourself as his present, didn’t you? So it was only fair that he got to use his present as he wished, and right now, he wanted to feel you cumming around him. 

Ceasing his smacks, making you whine, Trey instead melded his body against yours, the weight both overwhelming and comforting, as his left hand instead moved to your sex to rub you to completion. 

Trey watched as you gasped for breath, completely burying your head into the bed to muffled your screams as you came around him, trembling and squeezing him. 

The feeling of your walls pulsating around his shaft was becoming dangerously addicting, and he was very greedy for more of that. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck! I’m so close! You can give me another one, right?”

Slipping his arms around your waist and pulling you up, Trey adjusted you so that you sat on his dick, kissing the side of your neck for reassurance as he let go of your hand to quickly slide his arms under your knees. 

From all his years of tossing bags of flour and sugar, from kneading dough, from all the labor he’s done as a baker, picking you up was like child’s play. 

Folding your knees up to your chest so he could hold you, back flush to his chest, was nothing for him. Everything for you, though, your over sensitive hole squeezing down on him again.  

“FUCK! I caaame! Treytreytreytrey—” You dug a hand into his arm, tossing your head back and lolling your tongue out with a dumb, drooly smile on your lips. 

“A-almost there—nngh—just squeeze if I need to stop—I’m so close~”

Smashing his lips against yours for an open mouth, wet kiss, Trey pounded faster into you, determined to feel your walls pulsate again, this time as he filled your insides up like one of his pastries. 

Then, an awful, perverted thought filled his head, like a devil was whispering in his ear. 

Why doesn’t he fill them up with his kids? Don’t stop until his cum is drooling out of their hole, and go again to make up for the lost seed. He already wants them to be his spouse, why not add a few little ones to that picture?

Trey was losing any bit of restraint that he may have had as he was now determined to fullfill his fantasy. Even if you couldn’t do it, magic made anything here possible, and right now is good practice anyway.

“I’m—aaaahhh—I’m gonna come inside, okay? Fill you up, yeah?”

Digging your nails into his skin, you nodded against his mouth and whined. 

“Yessssss! Fill me up! Inside! Gimme a baby Trey! I wanna make you a daaaaddy~”

Squeezing your legs further against your chest, Trey pounded faster and faster, trembling as he reached close and closer to his peak. 

Warmth flooded his body, tingles, and he swears sparks, flying over his skin as he felt you clamp down on him for a third time. 

Your voice squealed higher and higher, any previous attempt to be quiet for naught as you practically screamed.

Trey shuddered as he finally came, cum flooding your warm insides as you went limp in his arms. 

Panting for air, both of you remained still for a minute, the bed feeling stuffy with the curtains still closed. After another minute, Trey pulled you up and off of him, shaky as his now limp dick left your warm, comfortable embrace.

Doing his best to gently place you on the bed, Trey let out a breathless laugh as you collapsed on the bed like a rag doll, blinking your eyes tiredly at the ceiling of the canopy. 

“Haah, sorry, I went too hard there, huh?”

You shook your head, giving him a tired smile and reaching a hand for him, which he took and brought up to kiss. 

“It was good, really, good. You liked your present?”

Snorting and nodding, Trey carefully scooped you up to move your head onto the pillows and gently roll off your garter stocking, thumbs rubbing soothing circles as he did. 

“Yeah, I did. Come on, let me get you a shirt.”

You whined as he pulled away, exhaustion starting to steep into him as he tied back the curtains to the canopy to let the stuffiness out. Trey picked up the baby doll he’d tossed earlier, placing it into his wardrobe drawer as he dug out a shirt and sweatpants for himself and a shirt for you.

As he closed the drawer, he noticed your backpack hidden underneath it, digging in it to grab you some underwear. You had packed a pair of pajamas, apparently, but…he’d rather see you in his clothes. 

“Hmm, honey? Come to bed…” You whined, hands reaching out for him impatiently as he slipped on his clothes, crawling over to you and helping you slip your underwear and his shirt on. 

“I’m here, I’m here.”

Trey slowly blinked, eyelids heavy as he scoop you up to place you two under the covers, the soft mattress making him practically become one with the bed and you as you nestled into his chest. 

Your legs tangled with his as Trey wrapped his arms around you and tucked your head under his chin. He could feel fatigue and sleep quickly taking over him as your voice vibrated against his chest, soft and sleepy. 

“Happy birthday honey, I—yawn—love…you…”

A different kind of warmth, soft and sweet, filled him as he squeezed you tighter against him, murmuring back. 

“I love you too…”

*Riiiing* *Riiiiiiiing* *Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing*

An irritating, loud noise filled Trey’s ears as he groaned, half-awake as he turned over to smack his hand on his phone, silencing the alarm. 

“Aah…Noisy…hhggh.” Trey groaned, rolling over, careful to not crush you under him to blindly reach for his glasses. 

“Glasses…glasses…ah..”

Plastic and glass finally under his palm, Trey slipped his glasses on his face, ultimately throwing himself back into bed next to you, who’d begun shifting awake.

“Mmm, honey?” 

Grunting in response, Trey threw an arm over his eyes, irritated at the sun seeping through the window into his eyes. 

“Early…”

You chuckled, a yawn escaping you as you decided to move closer and slip a hand under his shirt to rub at his chest, pressing kisses into his neck as well. 

“You’re so grumpy in the morning. Come on, you've got a big day ahead.”

“…Ugh, I do?”

Snorting at his response, Trey grunted as he felt you move, peaking under his arm to see you resting on your elbow. You had puffy, dark circles under your eyes from the little sleep you managed to get. 

“Birthdays are a pretty big deal, right?” Smiling at him, Trey squinted an eye and groaned, squeezing his eyes shut in protest.

“Ugggh, yeah…”

Hearing you hum, Trey groaned in surprise as he felt you straddle his waist and caress his neck and cheeks, making him remove his arm to blink up at you. 

Your hair was a tangled mess, sticking up in all sorts of places. The bags under your eyes more noticeable under the night. His shirt dwarfed you. You were a hot mess, all things considered. 

He probably wouldn’t say it out loud, with how cute you were last night, but he thinks you look most beautiful like this. Better than any frilly, skimpy, or tight outfit.

“Come on, Birthday Boy, want me to give you a little pick me up?”

Kissing him with a smile, Trey moaned into the lazy, sloppy morning kiss, tilting his head back as you pressed kissed down his neck, deciding to work on leaving a love bite at the nape of his neck.

Trey’s phone chimed, making him sigh as he reached for it, letting you continue your love bites and kisses, 

Squinting at the few messages, it seemed like a few of his friends and classmates were already sending him birthday wishes. Though, a message from Cater made him blot up, a sudden shock of alertness running down his spine. 

“Ah! Trey, what is it?”

cay-cay_diamond: morning!! happy bday 2 the bday boi again! thought i let u no tht u owe me a favor, had 2 cast a silencing spell on ur roum last nite. totes ruined my beauty sleep! cay-cay_diamond: also i know u got ur lil cutie 2 distract ya, but liek dont b l8 2 ur bday breakfast, grimmy might eat it!

“Shit, we were too loud, Cater had to cast a silencing spell on the room.”

You made an ‘oh’ shape with your mouth, giving Trey an apologetic smile. 

“Sorry, but at least you enjoyed it, right?”

Trey smiled, more awake now, and nodded, sharing a sweet kiss with you. 

“Definitely. You might have to consider making your go-to gift for now on, it’s gotta be my favorite one I’ve ever gotten.”

He solidified that statement with one more, firm, assuring kiss with you, before having to leave your sweet dream into the real world. 

At least he could have one part of that dream with him at his side from now on: you. 

comments and reblogs appreciated 🩷

[vi-steponmeplease]

ˋ°•*⁀➷ loser!gf ellie

synopsis: just some random headcanons about what it'd be like to date loser ellie who's js so obsessed with you.

notes: never made any headcanon posts before, so don't mind the setup lmao i have no clue what i'm doing

tw: mostly fluff but there are some smutty hcs (oral — e!receiving)

✧₊⁺ to begin with, ellie defo prefers cozy 'netflix n chill' date nights over dressing up for fancy dinners.

✧₊⁺ cuddling up on the couch with you is something that never fails to make her heart swell, no matter how long you’ve been together.

✧₊⁺ but mostly because it gives her a chance to imagine what domestic life with you might be like—though she’d never admit it, afraid it might seem like she’s moving too fast.

✧₊⁺ she’s a sucker for resting her head on your chest while you thread your fingers through her hair, gently massaging her scalp as the two of you watch some cringey movie you’ll inevitably fall asleep to halfway through.

✧₊⁺ on the rare nights you don’t doze off, ellie grabs her brown acoustic guitar adorned with spongebob stickers and serenades you with a gentle melody while you rest your head on her shoulder.

✧₊⁺ when you’re out with friends, ellie—being the absolute dork she is—seizes the opportunity to practice tricks on her scratched-up skateboard, determined to one day impress you with her skills (even though she can barely land a kickflip without bruising herself)

✧₊⁺ when she eventually heads home with fresh scratches and deep purple bruises on her arms and knees, she does her best to patch herself up and cover them with makeup, hoping you won’t notice.

✧₊⁺ walking around town with ellie is always chaotic, as she can’t help but scream with excitement at the sight of every cat she sees.

✧₊⁺ bonus points if she’s eating chips—she’ll immediately tear open the bag and try to feed the poor animal junk food, no matter how much you explain it’s unhealthy. she just wants the cat to be happy and fed.

✧₊⁺ speaking of cats, she's defo the type to snap 0.5 pictures from every angle, proudly maintaining an entire folder dedicated to her feline encounters.

✧₊⁺ you got her a dino necklace for her birthday, and she’s never taken it off since.

✧₊⁺ ellie also has a whole mini-figure collection of the reptile and loves sending you pictures of two dinos kissing, always captioning them with: us!!

✧₊⁺ this girl lets nothing—absolutely nothing—distract her from a videogame. but the moment you so much as call her name, she’s running to you like a stray dog that just found its owner.

✧₊⁺ sometimes, you sit on her lap as she plays, watching her screen and asking the silliest questions. she always answers with a smile and a soft kiss on your cheek.

"what about there? would you die if you went inside that room?" you ask, your arms draped around her neck as you tilt your head to get a better view of her game.

she chuckles softly, pressing her lips to your jaw before fiddling with the joysticks. "judging by the fact that it’s pitch dark in there, i’d say… probably, yeah."

✧₊⁺ the room eventually falls silent, her focus fully locked on the game. but when she glances down a few moments later, she finds you fast asleep, your head resting on her shoulder, and she can’t help but smile.

✧₊⁺ you’ve never seen a room as messy yet effortlessly aesthetic as ellie’s. somehow, the clutter only adds to her charm and uniqueness.

✧₊⁺ sometimes, as you sit on her bed scrolling through your phone in comfortable silence, ellie sketches little drawings of you.

✧₊⁺ by now, her sketchbook is filled with portraits of you—you’ve become her muse.

✧₊⁺ she used to get shy about showing you her artwork, hesitating before every reveal. but after seeing your excitement over one piece, she proudly gave you a full tour of her sketchbook, secretly basking in the joy of being the reason behind that pretty smile of yours.

✧₊⁺ one time, ellie asked you to press your lipstick-stained lips onto a piece of paper, saying she wanted to create something abstract.

✧₊⁺ that moment quickly escalated into her kissing you with urgency, her lips trailing heated breaths down your neck and collarbone. before you knew it, you were lying on your back, clothes discarded on the floor, as she devoured you like a prisoner savoring a last meal.

✧₊⁺ ellie had never tasted pussy before, but she didn’t need any frame of reference. she’ll always insist yours is the best she could ever have.

✧₊⁺ she’s a soft dom, big on praise—even when you’re the one between her legs.

ellie’s head falls back against the wall, a low groan slipping from her lips as your tongue flicks against her clit. you wrap your lips around the sensitive bud, watching her face contort with pleasure.

“fuck, baby. just like that,” she grunts, her hand threading into your hair and tugging gently to bring you closer. “you’re doing so good.”

✧₊⁺ in the end, ellie is just a hopeless loser who’s madly in love with you and would do anything to make you happy.

[xinganhao]

🍨 svt spoiling their partner.

★ prompt: how ot13 spoils their partner? 🥹🥹🥹 i am just a girl give me treats c/o @shinwonderful

ⓘ established relationship, pet names, fluff. headcanons under the cut. special thanks to @chugging-antiseptic-dye for helping! ♡

🍨 read more?

seungcheol 𖹭 planning dates. he will refuse to let you lift a finger for your day out. everything will be meticulously laid out, finetuned to be something that you'll enjoy. his goal is to lessen the mental load of decision-making and planning; he wants you to be able to focus solely on enjoying the surprise, and he'll break his back to make sure that happens.

jeonghan 𖹭 'parallel play'. even if the two of you might not be interested in the same things, that's okay. he's happiest to spend quality time with you at home, where the two of you are free to do your own thing within eachother's presence. just being in your vicinity already makes him content, and so he plans everything around the two of you getting to explore and share your respective hobbies.

shua 𖹭 acts of service. need help with your taxes? need someone to fill up your tank? he's already on it. he'll say that these are all 'little things', call it the bare minimum, when it's apparent that he makes it a conscious effort to make your day-to-day easier. his brand of spoiling you comes in the form of quietly doing things that will improve your quality of life.

junhui 𖹭 buying clothes you'll like. he can't help it, really. when he sees an article of clothing that he thinks suits your style? when he finds a local brand that shares your advoacy? he's already pulling out his wallet. he likes the idea of dressing you up. nothing makes him happier than knowing you're wearing an outfit that he entirely picked out for you.

soonyoung 𖹭 daily reasons why he loves you. people always joke that he has a bit of a motormouth, so why shouldn't he use it on talking about you, you, you? he's big on words of affirmation, on making sure you never doubt how he feels for you. he'll point out the little and big things that make him adore you, and it's never the same reason twice.

wonwoo 𖹭 indulging your interests. he may not always understand these trends— blind boxes, must-have fashion pieces, et cetera— but he'll never make you feel bad about it. if there's anything that you want, he's already doing everything within his power to get it. his greatest joy is seeing your face light up once he's gotten you your 'priority' item; it's why he keeps doing it in the first place.

jihoon 𖹭 trying new things for you. there's a long list of things that jihoon never thought he'd do, but then he started dating you. time and time again, he willingly goes out of his comfort zone to accompany you on the little adventures and experiences that you ask to go on. he does these things scared, does them anxious, does them begrudgingly,— does them all for you.

seokmin 𖹭 meals he thinks you'll like. he's the type to have dozens of tabs open for homemade recipes dot com. he knows he's an amateur at this, but he's undeterred in trying. whether it's a trending pastry on tiktok or the comfort meal that your mother makes you, he's determined to learn it so you're always eating well.

mingyu 𖹭 getting-to-know card games. he gives as good as he takes, which means mingyu's way is to listen and remember. a night where the two of you can just have deep conversations with no interruptions is his ideal evening. he will know he succeeded if the two of you end up talking until the sun rises, feeling like the hours haven't passed at all.

minghao 𖹭 postcards from tour stops. he loves art and he loves you. his postcards are pocket-sized reminders of those facts, always packaged with a few choice words that are sweet and sincere. his trinkets are very "i-got-you-this-because-it-reminded-me-of-you" in nature, and you know each one was purchased with you at the front of mind.

seungkwan 𖹭 getting you your favorites. he figures he should put his industry connections to use somehow. he's always amused by how happy you get over a rare photocard, signed album, or concert tickets, and so he keeps it up. buying dozens of albums, contacting other labels, bearing the arduous ticketing. your excitement at the end of it makes it all worth it.

vernon 𖹭 producing songs. he hadn't really pegged himself as the making-music-for-the-sake-of-it type until he met you. now, he revels in getting to send you a track that's for your ears only. all the lyrics just seems to flow naturally when it's you inspiring him, and so he sends you works-in-progress with reminders that you're the only intended audience.

chan ��� at-home massages. he's all too familiar with the aches of an ailing body, so he knows exactly how and where to work on you. he always does what he calls 'the works'— a good bath, scented candles, essential oils. he lets you take your time, and he takes his time with you in helping you unwind.

› scroll through all my work ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ my masterlist | @xinganhao

[ddejavvu]

hi!! can i req animagus reader x sirius where the reader accidentally tastes some catnip? thank you <33

"She's tweaking." Sirius decides, and James's brow furrows at the way your limbs twitch discordantly. You'd given a curious sniff to Remus's mum's cat's stash of catnip, and apparently it works on animagi as well, if the way you're rolling around in it is any indication.

"That stuff is strong. My mum only uses it around the holidays when she needs to make sure the cat isn't gonna bite anyone." Remus watches as your tiny, furred paw stomps in the middle of a pile of the stuff, sending it flying in all directions. The muted greenish-brown flakes are starkly contrasting the dark wood stain of the dining table, and James's strong arms shoot out to catch your writhing form when you misstep and your foot slips off of the surface.

"Darling! Be careful," James cries, cradling your furry animagus form to his chest, "We need to get you through this meal in one piece, we're visiting my parents next."

You've been hopping between parents' house to parents' house, avoiding the birthday boy's own family, on what Sirius calls his 'Birthday Tour'. You're having lunch at Remus's after a breakfast with your own family, and you're finishing the day up with dinner at the Potter's. James is right; Euphemia would kill her son if James showed up and told her you'd overdosed on catnip.

You transform back reluctantly, glad for James's support as the lasting effects of the catnip combine with the haze of transformation to make your knees weak and your mind dizzy. You let James cradle you against his chest while Sirius snickers at your spaciness, and Remus sets the lid firmly on the jar of catnip as he brushes the excess towards his mum's housecat.

"No fair." You groan, your voice muffled as you tuck your face into James's shoulder, "Cat gets to get high, but I don't?"

"My mum's food won't taste any better high," Remus levels a smirk at you, "Trust me, Sirius and I have tried. Just breathe through your mouth, darling, and swallow, don't taste."

[savage-kult-of-gorthaur]

IT'S GONNA BE A BRITISH METAL ONSLAUGHT AT THE GARDEN -- UP THE IRONS IN '83.

PIC INFO: Spotlight on an IRON MAIDEN promotional tour poster for an October 8th, 1983 concert at Madison Square Garden, NYC, and part of their "World Piece Tour" which took place from May 2, 1983 to December, 18, 1983.

EXTRA INFO: Their 1983 American tour was in support of the band's then newly-released 4th studio album, "Piece of Mind."

Source: www.hakes.com/Auction/ItemDetail/75751/IRON-MAIDEN-WORLD-PEACE-TOUR-83-CONCERT-POSTER.

[reidmarieprentiss]

Grass is Always Greener

Summary: based on this ask. Reader is in love with Spencer, he moves on while they're dating. Then reader gets kidnapped and Spencer has some monumental realizations.

Pairing: bi!Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: hurt/comfort, angst

Warnings/Includes: kidnapping, typical CM violence, emotional cheating, bi-sexual Spencer, heartbroken reader

Word count: 7.5k

a/n: i really loved this prompt!! thank you for asking :) there will be a part two by the way don't worry heheh

main masterlist

For the past six months, you and Spencer have been inseparable, caught in the kind of love that novels fail to describe adequately. It isn't just affection—devotion, a deep-rooted adoration that feels like it has existed long before you met, as though you were meant to be intertwined from the start.

You love him in the way you always wished to be loved. You show it in every trim, thoughtful act—baking his favorite pastries just because, ensuring that breakfast is warm and waiting for him before he even wakes up, making sure dinner is ready when he returns home, exhausted but comforted by you.

You bring him flowers, because why shouldn't he receive them too? You find books you know will capture his mind, wrapping them in delicate paper just to see the soft wonder in his eyes when he unwraps them. You plan excursions he'll adore—museum dates, guided historical tours, moments where he can lose himself in the past while you stay anchored beside him.

Your love isn't just spoken—it's lived, woven into every gesture, every detail, every careful thought put into making him feel cherished. Because that's what he is to you—irreplaceable, essential, the other half you never realized was missing until he was there, filling every space with something more profound than connection, something that feels like fate.

If only Spencer felt the same way about you.

—

Your heart stopped. Your lungs refused to work, your breath catching somewhere in your throat like a broken sob that refused to form. The room around you blurred at the edges, your vision tunneling in on Spencer—Spencer, the man you had given everything to, the man you had loved so deeply, so purely, that it had consumed every part of your existence.

"What?" The word came out strangled, barely audible, your voice cracking as tears welled in your eyes. You didn't want to cry in front of him, didn't want to give him that power, but your body betrayed you.

Spencer still couldn't look at you. His hands, which you had held so many times, trembled at his sides. His jaw was clenched so tightly it looked like it hurt. "I thought it was the right thing to do," he muttered, as though that was supposed to make sense, as if that explained anything.

Your stomach churned with nausea, fury, and disbelief. "The right thing to do?" Your voice wavered between a whisper and a scream. "The right thing to do was to fuck someone else?"

Spencer flinched at your words and their vulgarity, but he didn't immediately deny it. That silence spoke louder than anything.

Finally, he swallowed hard and said, "I did not—" he hesitated, knowing every word he chose would dictate what happened next. "—I did not sleep with him."

Him.

It hit you like a freight train, a new layer of betrayal unfolding before you. You stepped back as if distance would protect you from the shattering of your heart inside your chest.

"Then what, Spencer?" You forced the words out, your entire body trembling. "What did you do?"

Spencer's face twisted in pain, in something that almost looked like guilt but didn't quite feel like enough. Not for what he'd done. Not for the way he was shattering you into pieces so small you weren't sure you'd ever be able to put yourself back together.

"I fell in love," he admitted, his voice quiet, like saying it any louder would break him too.

But it wasn't him breaking. It was you.

Your scream ripped through the room before you could stop it. "Spencer, that is so much worse!" Your hands clenched into fists at your sides, nails biting into your palms, grounding you against the overwhelming rush of devastation, betrayal, and fury. "How long?"

Spencer blinked at you, thrown off by the question. "How long?" he echoed as if he didn't understand or know what you were asking.

You took a step closer, the force of your heartbreak pushing you forward even as your body begged to run in the opposite direction. "How long have you been in love? How long have you been emotionally cheating on me like a pathetic, scared loser?"

His breath hitched, his mouth opening and closing like he struggled to find the right words, but there were none. There was no correct answer that would make this better.

Then he said it. "Is this because it's a man?"

You froze, stunned by how wildly he had missed the point. A bitter, humorless laugh escaped you, and you could barely recognize the sound of your voice when you spat, "I don't give a shit what mouth you want to put your tongue in, Spencer." Your hands shook, and you hated it, hated how weak you felt when all you wanted was to be furious enough to drown out the pain. "I care that you didn't respect me enough to tell me sooner! I'm not homophobic; I'm heartbroken!"

That finally made him look at you. Really look at you.

His lips parted slightly, his brow furrowing as if he were just now realizing the gravity of what he had done. As if the wreckage he had left in his wake hadn't been evident from the moment he opened his mouth.

"I didn't—" He stopped himself, inhaled sharply, then exhaled as he could barely hold himself up anymore. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

It was a pathetic attempt at an apology.

"Well, congratulations," you choked out, voice thick with unshed tears. "You did."

Spencer nodded, his expression solemn, the weight of his decision pressing down on him like a physical force. He swallowed hard, and for the first time, he looked humiliated. "I'll have my things gone by the weekend," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Something inside you snapped.

"Fuck you." The words tore from your throat, sharp and unfiltered, dripping with the kind of pain that no amount of time could ever truly erase. "Get it all out tonight and give me the key."

Spencer flinched. His eyes darted up to yours, desperate, pleading, as if something was still left to salvage. "Y/N—"

"Now, Spencer!" you screamed, your voice cracking, breaking under the sheer weight of the moment. Your body was trembling, fists clenched so tight your nails bit into your palms, but you didn't care. You didn't care that tears blurred your vision or that your chest ached like someone had physically reached inside you and torn your heart apart.

Spencer didn't argue.

For once, he didn't try to explain, didn't try to rationalize, didn't try to make this something it wasn't. He simply nodded, defeated, and turned on his heel.

You watched as he moved through the shared space, the home you had built together, now nothing more than a place he needed to evacuate. Every step he took, every moment that passed as he quietly gathered his things, felt like a knife twisting deeper into your already shattered heart.

You wanted to stop him.

You wanted to scream at him to stay, to tell him he could fix this, that you could find a way back to the love you had so freely given him.

But he had already thrown that love away.

And so, instead of begging or breaking any further, you turned your back on him. You wiped your face with shaking hands, steeling yourself against the overwhelming grief threatening to consume you.

When he returned, his bag slung over his shoulder, the key to your apartment sitting in the palm of his hand, you refused to look at him.

Silently, he placed it on the table.

Silently, he turned toward the door.

Silently, he walked out of your life.

And the second the door clicked shut behind him, you collapsed, sobs wracking through your body as you mourned a love lost.

—

It had been an ordinary evening. Spencer had been at the library, fingers trailing along the spines of well-worn books, his mind half-distracted by the text messages you had sent earlier—something sweet, something thoughtful, the way you always were with him. You had made dinner and were waiting for him. He had told you he'd be home soon.

But then he had walked in.

Robert.

It started with a discussion—something about Dostoevsky, of all things. A casual remark Spencer had made under his breath, something about The Brothers Karamazov and moral determinism. He hadn't expected anyone to respond, let alone engage with him in a way that made his brain spark like a live wire.

"You know," Robert had mused, leaning against the bookshelf beside Spencer, "it's funny how people always think Dostoevsky was just arguing for free will. There's a case to be made that he was just as much a determinist as Tolstoy."

Spencer had turned, brows furrowed in curiosity, and he had looked at him for the first time.

Robert had sharp eyes, the kind that saw too much. He was well-dressed but not ostentatiously so—just a crisp button-up with the sleeves rolled to his elbows and dark-rimmed glasses perched on his nose. He looked like someone who belonged in the pages of the books they discussed.

The conversation had spiraled from there, shifting seamlessly from Russian literature to philosophy to quantum mechanics. It was effortless. Easy in a way Spencer hadn't expected, in a way he hadn't even realized he had been missing.

And then—then there had been the moment.

Spencer had laughed—actually, he had laughed, full and unrestrained. When he glanced up, he found Robert watching him with a warm, unreadable gaze.

"Do you ever have moments when you feel like you were meant to meet someone?" Robert asked suddenly, his voice quieter and more thoughtful.

Spencer's stomach had twisted—not in guilt, not yet, but in something else. Something dangerous.

He should have said no. He should have left then and there and gone home to you, to the person who loved him and was waiting for him with dinner, affection, and unwavering devotion.

But instead, he had stayed.

And that had been the beginning of the end.

—

"Who's Robert Nelson?" you asked absentmindedly, flipping through the stack of mail on the counter. Your fingers lingered on the envelope, the name printed neatly in the return address, unfamiliar but seemingly unimportant—until you felt Spencer tense beside you.

It was subtle, the way his entire body went rigid, but you knew him well enough to notice. The way his breath hitched for just a fraction of a second and his fingers twitched before he suddenly snatched the letter from your hands with an almost defensive speed.

"A friend," he said quickly. Too quickly.

You blinked, startled by his reaction and voice, which sounded too tight or too careful. You tilted your head, studying how his fingers curled around the envelope as if he were trying to shield it from you.

"A friend?" you echoed, your curiosity morphing into something heavier, something uneasy. "Since when have your friends sent you letters?"

Spencer hesitated for just a breath too long.

"Since—uh, since he moved out of state," he said, but his voice lacked its usual certainty, the effortless confidence that usually accompanied his explanations. He wasn't looking at you, his eyes fixed on the paper in his hand as if it held the answer to whatever silent questions you were beginning to form.

You frowned, your heart beating a little faster, that gnawing feeling in the pit of your stomach growing. "Why haven't you mentioned him before?"

Spencer finally met your gaze, but something in his eyes unsettled you—a flicker of something unreadable, which looked a lot like guilt.

"You never asked," he said softly.

And just like that, an invisible wall settled between you.

—

"Spencer?" you called out from the living room, glancing at his buzzing phone. The name flashing on the screen sent a strange feeling through your chest. Robert Nelson. Again.

Your fingers hovered over the device before instinct took over, and you answered. "Hello?"

There was a brief silence. Then, a smooth, unfamiliar voice. "Oh—uh, hi. Is Spencer there?"

Before you could respond, Spencer was there. He practically ripped the phone from your hand, his grip too aggressive. His fingers nearly fumbled as he clutched it like a lifeline.

"Why are you answering my phone?" His voice was sharp, defensive, almost panicked.

Your breath caught in your throat, stunned by the hostility in his tone. "I—It was ringing. I thought it might be work," you said, your voice quieter now, weaker.

But Spencer wasn't paying attention anymore.

His entire demeanor shifted in an instant.

"Hi, Robert!" His tone was bright and warm in a way that you hadn't heard from him in weeks. His body relaxed, his posture unwinding as he turned away from you slightly as if shielding the conversation from your ears.

And that was when it happened.

The slow, aching fracture of your heart.

You didn't need to hear the conversation. You didn't need to piece together the puzzle. It was already evident.

Whoever Robert Nelson was, he had already taken something from you.

—

"Hey, Reid," Derek called out as he stepped out of JJ's office, stretching his arms over his head. The bullpen was winding down for the day, the usual chatter filling the air. "You gonna invite that little number of yours to 'team bonding' at O'Kieffe's?"

Spencer looked up from his paperwork, brow furrowing slightly. "Robert?"

Derek's expression flickered with confusion, his head tilting. "Who's Robert?"

Before Spencer could answer, Elle interjected, her curiosity piqued. "Wait—who's Robert?"

Spencer adjusted his tie absentmindedly, utterly oblivious to the way both of his coworkers were staring at him now. "My boyfriend…"

A beat of silence.

Derek blinked, his mouth slightly open as if he'd misheard. "What?" His tone was a mixture of shock and something else—concern, maybe. "Since when? What happened to Y/N?"

At that, Spencer finally hesitated, his fingers tightening around his pen.

There it was—that fleeting look of guilt, so quick that anyone who wasn't trained to notice microexpressions might have missed it.

Elle's eyebrows shot up, catching on to the shift instantly. "Yeah, what did happen to Y/N?" she echoed, crossing her arms, her sharp gaze locked on him.

Spencer opened his mouth to answer, but no words came out. He hadn't prepared for this conversation and hadn't thought about how it would sound when he finally said it out loud.

That he had left someone who loved him more than anything.

He said that he had fallen for someone else while still wrapped in the warmth of Y/N's love.

Her name, which Spencer used to say with so much affection, now felt like a reminder of what he had destroyed.

His silence lingered just a little too long.

And that was all the answer they needed.

—

"Round table. Five minutes." Hotch's voice carried across the bullpen, his usual no-nonsense tone making it clear there was no room for delay.

The team exchanged glances, some groaning about Monday morning's abruptness, others silently gathering their things and making their way toward the conference room. Spencer followed, clutching his coffee; the bitter taste ground him in the early morning haze.

Once they were seated, JJ took her usual spot at the front, but something about her demeanor was off. Her shoulders were tense, her expression pinched in a way that wasn't just professional concern—it was personal.

She clicked on the projector, and the screen illuminated with a digital map of Virginia. Red markers pinpointed locations across the state—too many markers.

"A string of kidnappings has taken place here in Virginia," JJ began, her voice steady but strained. "All within the last two months. The victims all match the same victimology."

As she spoke, she clicked on the next slide.

A series of photos appeared on the screen. The faces were of women in their twenties with similar features and build. This pattern should have been just another set of behavioral data points in the grander scheme of the case.

But Spencer's stomach plummeted.

His grip on his coffee tightened involuntarily, his breath hitching in his throat. His heart slammed against his ribs in recognition, dread coiling in his gut like a living thing.

The victims—they all looked like you.

It's the same hair color. Same facial structure. They have the same soft smile in some photos and the same sharp glint in their eyes in others. They weren't you, but they might as well have been.

His pulse pounded as JJ continued speaking, words blurring together as the room suddenly felt too small.

"The unsub is abducting women who fit this profile, holding them for an unknown period, and then—"

Spencer barely heard the rest.

All he could think about was you.

You—who had barely spoken to him since he left. You—who he had destroyed. You—who he no longer had the right to check in on, to protect.

But as his vision swam, his chest tightening painfully, only one thought cut through the noise.

Were you safe?

…

The answer came quicker than Spencer could have ever prepared for.

No. You weren't safe.

Once the team broke off into their assigned pairs, the case had already begun unraveling alarmingly fast. The latest victim's body had been recovered, their time of death recent—too recent. It meant the unsub was either already hunting for a new woman… or they already had one.

By the time Spencer and Elle arrived back at the BAU, the tension in the air was palpable. The office's usual controlled chaos had been replaced with something far heavier. He could feel the urgency with which agents moved in the hushed voices and sharp exchanges. Something had shifted.

Then he saw it.

His first clue was the woman sitting at JJ's desk, shoulders shaking, her face buried in her hands as she sobbed. It took him a second to recognize her—your best friend.

His second clue was even worse.

His entire body locked up as his gaze landed on the case board. The details of the investigation had changed.

And there you were.

Your picture.

Your face.

Pinned in the center of the board, more significant than any other victim's. A fresh missing persons report was tacked beside it, and the timestamp was barely hours old.

The breath left Spencer's lungs like he'd been punched in the gut.

His vision blurred at the edges, the words and numbers on the board becoming nothing more than meaningless static.

His hands clenched, the phantom memory of holding you flashing through his mind. His brain, the same brain that could recall statistics, equations, and case files with perfect clarity, was failing him now, drowning him in nothing but cold, raw terror.

You were missing.

And Spencer had never felt more helpless.

The room around him faded into a blur of voices, movement, and urgency—but none mattered. Only you mattered. His feet moved before his mind could catch up, pushing him toward JJ's desk, toward your best friend who was still crying into her hands.

"When?" The word tore from Spencer's throat, rough and desperate. "When was the last time anyone heard from her?"

Your best friend lifted her tear-streaked face, eyes red and swollen. "L-last night. We were supposed to meet for brunch this morning, but she never showed up. She—she wouldn't just disappear. She wouldn't—" Her voice broke, fresh sobs wracking through her as JJ placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Her phone's off," JJ said, her face tight with emotion, her voice barely steady. "Local PD found her car still parked outside her apartment. No sign of forced entry. Her purse was left behind."

Spencer clenched his jaw, his stomach twisting painfully. He knew what that meant. She was taken from inside. The unsub had been watching you, had known your routines, and had waited for the perfect moment to strike.

And he hadn't been there to stop it.

A hand clamped onto his shoulder. "Reid." It was Hotch. His voice was firm, grounding, pulling Spencer back into reality. "I need you to focus. We will find her, but we need to move fast."

Elle spoke up, flipping through the case file. "Unsub's pattern suggests he holds victims anywhere from 48 to 72 hours before…" She didn't finish the sentence, but they knew how it ended.

Before he killed them.

Spencer had 48 hours to save you.

He swallowed hard, forcing his mind to snap into place, to work past the terror and focus on finding you.

"Where was her last known location?" he demanded, stepping toward the board, his eyes locking onto your picture, committing every last detail of your presence to memory. He knew he would never forgive himself if he failed and lost you.

JJ pointed at the map. "Er, apartment. The surveillance cameras didn't catch anything obvious, but we're combing through traffic cams now. We need to figure out where he took her."

Spencer's hands clenched at his sides, his knuckles turning white.

"Then let's start there," he said, his voice steady now, ice-cold determination replacing the panic.

He had failed you once.

He wasn't going to fail you again.

The search was relentless. The entire team moved unyieldingly, combing through evidence, footage, and witness statements with the desperation that came when one of their own was in danger.

But for Spencer, it was different.

It was you.

He felt it in his bones, a suffocating weight pressing down on his chest, an overwhelming tide of guilt that gnawed at him with every passing second. He should have never left you. He should have never chosen something else, someone else.

Because now, as he stared at the grainy traffic cam footage of your last known whereabouts, he realized the truth.

Robert was never going to replace you.

He had been a distraction, a fleeting novelty, someone new and engaging in a way that had tricked Spencer into thinking he was feeling something more. But what was new had worn off, and emptiness had remained.

You were never dull.

You were home.

And he had walked away from it—walked away from you.

And now, he might never get to tell you how wrong he was.

"Reid," Hotch's voice cut through his thoughts, pulling him back to the present. Spencer turned sharply, his eyes burning, his hands trembling slightly at his sides.

"We have something," JJ said, her face tight with restrained emotion. She motioned to the screen. "Traffic cams picked up an unfamiliar van near Y/N's apartment. No plates, but it made three passes before stopping."

Spencer's pulse hammered as he stared.

There.

In the grainy footage, a dark-colored van sat idling just across from your apartment, a shadow behind the wheel. And then—a figure.

You.

You stepped out of your building, completely unaware. His breath caught in his throat as he watched the scene unfold, knowing precisely what was coming next but unable to look away.

The van door slid open. A person—the unsub—moved fast, grabbing you before you could react. You fought, your body twisting, struggling—but you were outmatched.

Then, just like that, you were gone.

Spencer's hands curled into fists.

"We need to identify that van," Hotch ordered. "Garcia, get into the city's surveillance system—track that route. Find me where he took her."

"I'm already on it, sir." Garcia's quick and focused voice came through the speaker.

Spencer barely heard them. His eyes stayed locked on the screen, on you, on the last moment before you had disappeared.

He had spent so much time thinking you would always be there, that there would always be time to fix things and make things right.

But time was running out.

And if he lost you—if he never got the chance to tell you how much he still loved you, how you were the only person who ever truly mattered to him—

He wasn't sure he'd ever be able to live with himself.

Garcia worked fast—she always did—but this time, Spencer could hear the urgency in her voice, the rapid clicking of her keyboard through the speaker, and the barely restrained panic beneath her usual rapid-fire delivery.

"Okay, sugarplums, I got something,” she announced, voice tense. "That creepy, unmarked van? It popped up on a traffic camera near an abandoned industrial site about fifteen miles from Y/N's apartment. There are no stops between the two locations. I'm sending you the coordinates now."

Spencer barely waited for Hotch to give the order before he was moving, grabbing his bag and gun and shoving past the concerned glances of his teammates.

This was it.

This had to be it.

The drive was agonizing. His fingers twitched on his knee as he stared out the window, mind racing with every possible outcome. If you were there—if they got to you in time—he could still fix this. He could still tell you the truth.

He had made the biggest mistake of his life, confused comfort with monotony, and was a fool to think there was something better than the love you had given him so freely, so wholly.

That you were the only one he had ever truly wanted.

The convoy of SUVs screeched to a halt outside the factory, tires kicking up dust and gravel. Guns were drawn, and orders exchanged in hushed, precise tones. Spencer's pulse hammered as he fell into formation with Morgan and Hotch, his grip on his weapon too tight, his breathing too shallow.

They breached the building in seconds.

The air inside was stale, thick with the scent of rust and decay. Spencer's stomach twisted as they moved swiftly through the darkened corridors, his ears straining for any sound—any sign of you.

But there was nothing.

No muffled cries, no scuffling footsteps, no you.

Then—

"Clear!" Morgan's voice rang out from another room, frustration cutting through the tension.

"Clear," Elle echoed from the opposite side.

Spencer's heart plummeted.

The space was empty.

Empty.

No unsub. No van. No, you.

They only discarded debris, a few rusted chairs, and the lingering, suffocating feeling they had just lost time they didn't have to spare.

Spencer stood frozen in the center of the room, his mind struggling to process what had just happened. The futility of it all hit him like a brick wall.

His knees felt weak.

"No, no, no," he murmured under his breath, his gun lowering as his vision blurred. "She was supposed to be here! He took her here. She—she was supposed to be here!"

"Reid." Morgan's voice was cautious, but Spencer barely heard it.

He couldn't—not over the deafening roar of panic, regret, guilt.

His hands were shaking. His chest was tight. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to force himself to breathe, to focus, but all he could see was your face, your picture pinned to the board, the footage of you being taken—

And the realization that he might never see you again.

"Reid." This time, Hotch's voice was sharper, more commanding. Spencer snapped his head up, his breath ragged.

"We'll find her," Hotch said firmly. "But we need you to keep it together."

Spencer's breath hitched, his pulse pounding so loudly in his ears he could barely hear anything else. They were wasting time. Every second spent standing here, every moment spent catching their breath, was another second you were still out there, terrified and alone, waiting for someone to save you.

And he had promised to love you.

And he had failed.

"Oh, you need me to keep it together?" Spencer snapped, his voice shaking, his entire body shaking. His vision was blurring at the edges, rage and fear coiling so tightly in his chest that he could barely contain it. He turned on Hotch, his heart hammering against his ribs like a wild, desperate thing. "Well, Y/N needs me to find her! She needs not to die!"

The words tore from his throat, raw and broken.

Morgan's eyes widened slightly, JJ flinched, Elle turned away—but Hotch didn't waver. He stood firm, unyielding, his sharp gaze locked on Spencer with a kind of patience Spencer didn't deserve right now.

"And we will find her," Hotch said, voice calm but edged with authority. "But not if you lose control."

"Lose control?" Spencer let out a short, bitter laugh, his fingers digging into his arms as if to ground himself and keep from completely unraveling. His throat burned, his head spun, and all he could see was you. You, you, you. "She's out there, and we don't even know if she's alive! We don't know if we have hours or minutes before she—before—"

His breath caught.

Before you died.

The word sat there, a looming specter he couldn't bring himself to say out loud.

Morgan stepped forward, voice softer this time. "Reid, listen, man—"

"No!" Spencer cut him off, wild-eyed, frantic. "You don't get it! None of you get it! I—” His voice cracked, his body swaying slightly, the weight of his guilt pressing so heavily on his chest it felt like it was crushing him. He tried to steady himself, but he felt like he was drowning. "I—this is my fault."

A thick silence settled over the room.

Spencer's vision blurred with unshed tears, and his breath ragged.

"She loved me." His voice was quieter now, almost hollow. He clenched his jaw, blinking rapidly, his nails digging into his palm. "And I—I walked away. I left her for someone who meant nothing." He let out a shuddering breath, his chest tightening so hard it physically hurt. "And now I might never get to tell her that she was—is—the only person I've ever truly loved."

A lump formed in his throat.

"I don't—I don't deserve to find her," he whispered, the truth burning as it left his lips. "But I need to. I have to. Or I'll never—I can't—"

He couldn't finish.

If he didn't find you and fix this, nothing else would ever matter.

Elle had been watching Spencer unravel since they returned from the failed lead, her sharp gaze tracking every minute detail of his breakdown—the frantic pacing, the erratic breathing, and his hands wouldn't stop shaking. And now, after his outburst at Hotch and how he looked like he was about to self-destruct right in front of them, she had had enough.

She moved fast.

Before Spencer could react, Elle's palm cracked across his face.

The sharp smack echoed through the room, cutting through the tense silence like a gunshot. Spencer's head snapped to the side, his breath hitching in shock as pain bloomed hot and fast across his cheek.

For a second, no one moved.

Elle wasn't finished.

She grabbed him by the collar, yanking him forward, forcing him to look at her. "Get your shit together, Reid!" she hissed, her eyes burning with something more than anger—something more profound.

Spencer froze.

His chest heaved, his mind scrambling to catch up, to process what had just happened. His cheek stung, but it was nothing compared to the tidal wave of rage, frustration, and unrelenting guilt that had been crushing him from the inside out.

"What the hell was that?" he gasped, staggering back, touching his face like he wasn't sure the pain was real.

"That," Elle said, voice low and dangerous, "was me snapping you the fuck out of it." She jabbed a finger into his chest, stepping closer, invading his space, making sure he couldn't look away.

"You're losing it, Reid. And you cannot afford to lose it right now."

Spencer opened his mouth, but she wasn't done.

"You think you're the only one who's scared?" Elle seethed. "You think you're the only one who wants to tear this city apart to find her? We all do. But guess what? You spiraling like this? It's not helping. It's making it worse."

Spencer's breath hitched, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. "I—"

"No, shut up," Elle snapped, cutting him off, her voice sharp enough to wound. "I don't want to hear you start whining about how guilty you feel, about how this is all your fault, about how you were an idiot for letting her go."

Spencer's throat closed up.

"You screwed up," she stated, flat and brutal. "You got bored. You wanted something new. And now you've realized you had something irreplaceable and threw it away."

His eyes widened slightly—because, fuck, she knew.

Elle saw right through him.

"But guess what, genius?" Elle leaned in, her voice dropping just enough that the words hit like a punch to the ribs.

"None of that fucking matters if you don't find her."

His stomach dropped.

Elle's gaze was unrelenting, her expression hard as steel. "You want to feel sorry for yourself? Fine. Do it after we bring her home." She stepped back, releasing her grip on his collar. "But right now, Spencer? You need to be the smartest damn person in this room."

Spencer exhaled sharply, still reeling, his cheek throbbing, his pulse raging.

But he understood.

Elle wasn't slapping him because she was angry. She was slapping him because she refused to lose another teammate. Because she refused to lose you.

Because she knew that he was the best chance you had.

Spencer straightened, inhaling deeply, forcing his mind to clear. His face still burned, his chest still ached with remorse, but for the first time since seeing your picture on that board, he wasn't drowning in it.

Elle watched him closely, her shoulders relaxing slightly as she saw the shift.

"Good," she said, giving him one last firm look. "Now, let's go find her."

Spencer nodded, jaw tight, mind finally sharpening into focus.

Because Elle was right. None of his regrets, self-loathing, orlizations meant anything if he didn't bring you home.

"Damn, Greenaway," Derek mumbled, rubbing his jaw as he shot Elle an amused glance. "What's a guy gotta do to get a little love tap?" His smirk was wide, teasing, attempting to lighten the crushing weight pressing down on all of them.

Elle, still standing firm after knocking some sense into Spencer, turned her head slightly, giving Derek a slow, deliberate once-over. "Keep talking, and it'll be a lot more than a tap," she shot back, a smirk of her forming. Then, with a playful wink, she turned back to the case, already flipping through files as if she hadn't just physically assaulted a coworker for his good.

Spencer barely registered the exchange, his brain already re-firing on all cylinders. The sting in his cheek was nothing compared to the fresh surge of determination flooding through him. And so, the team buried themselves back into the investigation, working with precision, intensity, and the desperate, unyielding need to bring you back.

Morgan and Hotch went back through the victimology, looking for any deviation in the unsub's pattern that could hint at where he had taken you.

JJ and Elle were in the batcave, working with Garcia, pushing for more footage, leads, and anything else to tighten the search radius.

Spencer was at the board, staring at your photo, the location pins, and the scattered details. His mind ran every scenario, analyzing every variable. His hand hovered over the map, tracing each route the unsub could have taken.

Think, Spencer. Think.

He had 72 hours.

Time was running out.

And he wasn't about to lose you.

And then he heard it.

Garcia's sharp victory cry rang through the speaker, cutting through the tension like a blade.

"Oh, hell yes! Gotcha, you sick son of a—"

Spencer's head snapped up, his heart slamming against his ribs as the bullpen erupted into movement.

"Garcia?" Hotch demanded, already reaching for his earpiece. "What do you have?"

"I have him, sir; I freaking have him!" Garcia's voice was a mixture of triumph and pure adrenaline. "Okay, listen up because I found this guy's most incriminating, unsub-like, foolish mistake—his utility bills."

Spencer's pulse skyrocketed.

Garcia barely took a breath before launching into explanation mode.

"So, I was cross-referencing every possible known location the previous victims were held in—warehouses, abandoned buildings, private properties, all that jazz—but something wasn't adding up. All of those places had been searched already, right? So, I started looking at nearby structures that weren't in use but still had active utilities. Gas, electricity, even just running water, because let's face it—no creepy serial kidnapper is taking sponge baths in a rusty bucket."

"Garcia," Hotch cut in, his patience thin, "where is he?"

Garcia let out an excited, breathless laugh.

"There's an abandoned farmhouse thirty miles outside town, just off an old service road. It's been off the radar for years, but someone's been paying the bills—sporadically, inconsistently, just enough not to raise alarms. And guess what, my sweet crime fighters?"

Spencer gripped the edge of the table.

"The latest bill?" Garcia continued, triumphant. "It was paid yesterday."

Spencer inhaled sharply.

That meant he was still there.

That meant you were still there.

Morgan was already reaching for his gear, his movements quick and efficient. "That's it. That's our guy. Let's move."

Hotch didn't hesitate. "Gear up. Now."

—

"Can you shut up for the love of God?!" the unsub snapped, his voice cutting through the cold, damp air of the farmhouse basement. His patience had worn thin, and the roughness in his tone carried more frustration than malice.

You hiccupped through your tears, your body trembling—not from fear, but from overwhelming exhaustion. Your wrists ached where they were bound, your face was sticky with dried tears, and yet, despite everything, you couldn't stop talking.

"I'm sorry," you sobbed, sniffling dramatically. "It's just—" Another sniffle, another watery gasp for air. "He left me, and then I get kidnapped, and now he's probably gonna save me, and then I'll go home to an empty house, and he'll go home to his stupid boyfriend."

Your captor's eye twitched.

"For the last fucking time," he growled, turning toward you with visible irritation, "they're not going to find you!"

You barely reacted, too caught up in your despair.

"You don't know that," you muttered, your voice wobbly but oddly conversational. "I mean, he's like a genius or whatever. And his team is good at their jobs. They always catch the bad guy." You sighed dramatically, tilting your head back against the wooden beam. "So, yeah, I'd say the odds aren't exactly in your favor."

The unsub's jaw clenched. He paced in frustration, his hands raking through his unkempt hair.

"You should be scared," he spat, though there was less conviction now.

You sniffled again. "I'm too heartbroken to be scared."

Your voice cracked on the last word; it wasn't just for show this time.

The unsub laughed, a cruel, condescending chuckle that grated against your nerves. "You're pathetic," he sneered, shaking his head.

You let out a soft, bitter huff, your fingers twitching where they were bound. "And you aren't?" Your voice was steady now, sharper than before. "You have to kidnap women just to get one to talk to you."

The unsub's face twisted with rage. His hand shot out, grabbing the back of your head roughly, yanking it back so you were forced to look up at him.

Then, cold metal pressed against your temple.

"I could fucking kill you right now," he snarled, his breath hot against your skin, his fingers digging into your scalp.

You blinked up at him. Not flinching and not pleading.

Just looking.

"Okay," you said simply.

For a long, tense moment, he didn't move.

Your heartbeat was steady, even as the seconds stretched between you. His grip was tight, his breathing heavy, the gun unwavering against your skin.

But you didn't break.

Because, honestly? You didn't care.

Maybe it was the exhaustion. It could be the sheer emotional devastation of everything leading up to this moment. Or maybe it was the painful, gut-wrenching realization that even if Spencer saved you, he wouldn't stay.

That hurt more than anything else.

The unsub groaned, exasperated, and after a few lingering moments, jerked back, lowering the gun.

He paced, rolling his neck like trying to shake off whatever he had just felt.

"You don't fear death, do you?" he muttered, more to himself than you.

You let out a small breath, watching him, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Not really."

—

The farmhouse was empty.

It was abandoned.

And that realization hit like a freight train.

As the team swept through the decrepit structure, their boots crunching against the dust-covered floorboards, the air grew heavier with every room they cleared. The farmhouse was utterly vacant—there was no sign of you, no sign of the unsub, no proof of where you had been taken next.

And then Spencer's world crashed down. Again. He didn't know how much more he could take.

His knees hit the ground before he could stop them, his whole body wracked with sobs. The grief that had been building inside him for hours, days, weeks—since the moment he walked away from you—exploded all at once.

Morgan was there instantly, his strong arms steadying Spencer, pulling him into a solid, grounding hold as Spencer fisted his hands into his vest.

"No, no, no," Spencer choked out, shaking violently. "We're too late, we're too late."

"Hey, hey—stop that." Morgan's grip tightened, his expression strained with worry. "We don’t know that."

But Spencer's mind wasn't listening.

Because the only explanation for an empty farmhouse was that the unsub had already killed you.

That he had already moved your body.

And Spencer would never get to tell you.

I never got to say he was sorry. Never get to tell you that he loved you, was a fool for leaving, and would have spent his entire life making it up to you if he could.

That you were his heart.

And now you were gone.

The team stood frozen, the weight of failure settling over them like a suffocating fog.

And then Spencer's phone rang.

His breath hitched, and his fingers clumsily fumbled for the device. His whole body felt numb, and the ringing pierced his grief. It was JJ.

He barely had time to answer before her voice rang through the line, breathless, disbelieving, urgent.

"Spencer—she's here."

His heart stopped.

"What?"

"Y/N just—she just walked into the precinct." JJ sounded just as stunned as he felt. "She's unharmed. She's safe."

Spencer felt his entire world tilt so violently that he nearly collapsed again.

He was on his feet in seconds, his head spinning, his chest heaving.

"She's alive?" The words tumbled out of him wild and frantic, like he feared saying them out loud would make them untrue.

JJ exhaled sharply. "She's alive, Spence. She's okay."

Spencer's legs nearly gave out.

Morgan caught him before he could crumble.

The team exchanged stunned glances, their exhaustion, and devastation shifting into something else entirely.

Hope.

Relief.

Victory.

Hotch's voice cut through the moment, commanding but urgent.

"Let's go. Now."

Spencer was already running.

—

Practically stumbling into the precinct, his breath ragged, Spencer's heart slamming against his ribs as he scanned the room in a frenzy. His eyes darted wildly, looking for you.

And then he saw you. Alive. Standing near JJ's desk, your arms crossed, your expression completely unreadable as you answered one of the officer's questions with a nod. No visible injuries. No signs of distress. Just… there.

Breathing.

Existing.

He felt like he was going to collapse.

The relief hit him so hard that he nearly forgot how to move, breathe, and function. His vision blurred, his pulse roared in his ears, and for a second, he could only process that you were here and safe.

Then you turned, and your gaze met his.

And everything inside Spencer froze.

Because there was no relief in your eyes.

No joy.

No desperation, no tears, no emotion at all.

It's just tired indifference.

His lips parted, and his feet moved toward you instinctively. His hands itched to touch you, feel you, hold you, apologize, beg, and break at your feet if he had to.

But before he could say anything, you exhaled deeply, turning back to JJ, dismissing him entirely without a second glance.

Like he was just… some guy.

Some stranger.

Someone who meant nothing.

The rejection was like a blade to the throat.

Spencer finally found his voice, but it was weak and hoarse. It was filled with exhaustion, guilt, and everything he had wanted to say to you but had never had the chance.

“Y/N—”

You barely spared him a glance.

"I just want to go home," you said flatly, your voice drained, emotionless, like you had nothing left to give—not to the case, Spencer, or any of it.

And that hurt more than anything.

Because he had prepared himself for your tears, he had braced himself for anger, for screaming, for you shoving him away, slapping him, hating him outright.

But this? This emptiness? This indifference? This was worse.

This was so much worse.

Spencer stood there, stunned, feeling himself shatter in real-time as you sighed, rubbing at your tired eyes, before quietly saying to JJ,

"Can someone take me home?"

And just like that—

You were gone.

And Spencer had never felt more alone.

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

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[madthetruemad]

Sunday joins the Astral Express, and Dan Heng gets easily jealous of how close you two are.

fem!reader

Dan Heng furrowed his brow as he watched you grab onto Sunday’s hand and tug him behind you, “come on! I’ll give you a tour!”

He was only brought out of his thoughts when he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“I wouldn’t worry too much, she is just being nice to him.”

“Must she act so familiar with him though,” he fired back without even looking at Himeko who tried to comfort him the best she could.

Sighing a little, Himeko kept her small smile, “y/n probably just doesn’t want Sunday to feel alone. Before you and the others joined the Astral Express it was just her, Welt and me taking care of the Stellarons and trailblazing our own path. And she… was… always so distant. Broken almost. But then she met you and March and then Stelle joined too. And she finally started to smile again.”

Dan Heng fully turned towards Himeko then.

“All I’m saying,” she said continuing, “is that she just doesn’t want to isolate Sunday despite what has happened between all of us in Penacony.”

“And of course this is the main train car! We mainly gather up here when we’re about to warp.”

Dan Heng looked back to where you were his eyes once again training on how your hand held onto Sunday’s…, or was Sunday holding onto you. He huffed. He new is was petty, but he couldn’t stop feeling that jealousy well up inside of him as you continued to pull Sunday around.

“Hey, Dan Heng! Why so frowny?”

When you spotted him, you had immediately trotted over to him, Sunday in tow.

“I’m not frowny,” he said even as he didn’t do much to try to change his soured expression.

“Could have fooled me,” you tried to joke.

Sunday, all the while, was watching you both carefully. The weight of your palm in his hand becoming increasingly apparent as the pieces started to fall into place. You… were a bit oblivious, but he didn’t mind that. Dan Heng did though.

Well, whatever. Sunday was used to fighting for his place. So if he had to fight for your hand too, then so be it.

“Oh! Are we leaving now,” you said excitedly when PomPom’s voice broke out over the intercom to let everyone know they should prepare to warp.

Everyone else was already getting ready as you grabbed Dan Heng’s hand with your free one, “let’s all sit together!”

And even as you tugged them both along, their eyes caught one another instead. A silent rivalry formed instantaneously.

[hellotailor]

louis' final three costumes in S2 are so, so cleverly chosen. after the curated blandness of his interview wardrobe in dubai, this is our first glimpse of his personal taste in the present day. each outfit is full of meaning.

in the first half of S2, louis and armand’s coordinated interview outfits seemed like part of their performance as a happy couple. by the end, they have a more sinister subtext. louis has gone from having stylish, flashy fashion sense to wearing uniformly expressionless black and grey:

dubai-era louis exclusively wears the colors of depression and mourning, in a style stripped of personal expression, physically and spiritually separated from the outside world. i’ll write a separate post about armand’s costumes later, but you could interpret this as louis' taste being subsumed by armand’s nebulous 500-year-old absence of identity. at the very least, louis is blending into the chic minimalism of the apartment, presenting himself as part of the household unit.

with that in mind, his final three outfits signal a seismic change after leaving armand. his NOLA tour costume reflects the philosophy behind his 1940s wardrobe (ie. selected to blend into a human crowd) but he's also reconnecting with his home, wearing a New Orleans Saints hat with (in a potential piece of double symbolism!) a fleur-de-lis logo.

then we have the loustat reunion outfit, which is more enigmatic. he’s going for subdued colors (although not pure black and grey), with a silhouette echoing his mid-20th century wardrobe: high-waisted, wide-legged trousers and a bomber jacket - a cut he wears pretty often. IMO the reunion’s overall color palette is a major factor here, with lestat and louis' costumes and surroundings sharing a spectrum of dark brown, sepia and muted gold.

finally there's the last scene in dubai, arguably the most “pure” expression of louis' taste because he’s not wearing this outfit for an audience. coordinating with the apartment’s colorful makeover, he’s wearing a multicolored cardigan with yellow highlights, matching claudia’s dress, the yellow couches, and the gold background of his new painting. (i’ve identified this as a YMC cardigan retailing at £250; a mid-range english brand.)

this piece (paired with navy blue pants with a yellow stripe) is modern and distinctive; basically the opposite of his interview costumes, which displayed very little in the way of personality or cultural markers. you immediately understand that louis is expressing himself through fashion again, now in a more casual streetwear context than the tailored and accessorized suits of his youth.

[cosmicalily]

"someone bagged the rockstar" a han jisung oneshot by @cosmicalily

"someone ran homе empty handed, someone bagged the rockstar. but how sweet, sweet, sweet it'd be, be, be, just to dream, dream, dream, next to me." - 'sweet to dream' by tv girl & jordana

author's note: "guys i'm gonna be inactive" okay so why are your pants on fire lily? warnings: implied sex (no actual smut, you nasties), making out, mentions of alcohol

You woke up with Jisung’s bare chest pressed tight to your back. “Whore,” you’d mumbled under your breath, letting your eyes and hands wander down his arms. Tattoos littered his chest and collarbone, ones you hadn’t noticed in your frenzied state last night. It was strange seeing them on his skin; physical memories he’d chosen to have needled onto him, maybe for fear of forgetting.

“You got it,” a sleepy voice murmured, warm arms slipping around your waist. He nuzzled his head into your shoulder, and you breathed in his scent. It was musky, with a mix of aftershave and your pomegranate perfume.

You let your finger trace the tattoos littering his torso. He didn’t seem to care; he simply watched you outline each drawing, each piece of him.

You’d never gotten tattoos, nor did you ever feel inclined to. You thought they were meaningless, permanent sketches on someone’s skin. 

You suddenly got the desire to cover yourself in delicately traced ink, linking all the parts together that were important to you. It was a quick thought; it came and passed.

“You like them?”

“They’re pretty.”

“I’ll get one for you next,” Jisung yawned, pulling your body flush against his again. “What do you want? Or do you want to sketch it yourself?”

“So are all these tattoos of other girls you’ve taken home?” you teased, pushing his hair out of his face.

Jisung pouted. “I’m not that whoreish. As a matter of fact, I haven’t gotten a tattoo for a single girl. Except for my mom.” He shifted his body slightly to show a small magnolia on his hip bone. 

“I didn’t take you for a ‘gets a tattoo for his mom’ kind of guy,” you giggled.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t take you for a ‘goes home with a guy she’s known for barely a day’ kind of girl.”

You wrinkled your nose a little. You didn’t take yourself for that kind of girl either, but here you were. And it wasn’t like you regretted your decisions either, though you were beginning to regret that final round of beer pong. Of course Jeongin’s terrible coordination had only worked in his favour when alcohol was involved. 

Oh well. Maybe it was worth it. You’d ended up with a pretty boy, his arms around your waist, pressing kisses into your shoulder.

You could be in worse situations.

Your dark hair was in a messy braid, one you remembered Jisung putting it in for you. Your makeup was on his pillowcase, and your eyeliner smudged. You hadn’t brushed your teeth, and your mouth still tasted like alcohol, sour gummy worms, and him.

He didn’t care. He pulled you in by the nape of your neck, just like you’d remembered he had before you’d fallen asleep, and pressed a soft kiss onto your lips.

It wasn’t worth it, was it?

He wasn’t going to stay.

They were on tour.

He’d leave you behind.

Your mind clearly didn’t comprehend these thoughts. You found yourself kissing back, running your tongue over his bottom lip. 

His fingers played with the soft hairs at the back of your neck.

You’d known him all of twenty-four hours.

He was barely doing anything. His kisses were soft and sweet, occasionally accompanied with a soft mumble of incoherent words against the lips. You shoved your face into his shoulder, and he continued pressing kisses into your collarbone.

It was the way he could so easily make you fall for him,

Even though you knew that tomorrow, he might not be there.

You pulled away from him, and Jisung stared at you in confusion, lips glossy, eyes wide.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked, looking at you worriedly. “I’m sorry. It’s probably too much. If you want to go home now, you can. I can drive you home or walk you or you could go by yourself if you don’t want me to-”

“No, it’s not that. Can I draw my tattoo on you?”

His eyes softened and he nodded excitedly. He rolled over, his lower body tangled in the sheets, and retrieved a Sharpie from somewhere beside his bed. You didn’t question why it might be there. You didn’t question a lot of things about him.

He laid down on his back, and you sat down on his lower stomach, hair falling in your eyes as you drew a design on his collarbone. You weren’t exactly sure what it was initially, but Jisung encouraged you to just sketch whatever came to mind. So you did.

A black cat, a pair of cherries. A small guitar pick.

As the black marker outlined illustrations on Jisung’s skin, he stared up at you, eyes full of stars. 

Oh, there weren’t even words to describe how mesmerising you were to him. As he took you in, all of you, his heart would beat a little faster. And those lyrics he’d write frantically in his notebook, the words that would melt off his tongue so seamlessly when he sang?

Gone. Traceless when you were within some kind, any kind of proximity. 

You did all that to him, something so intentionless. In the way you breathed, the way your bangs fell in front of your eyes no matter how many times you tucked them back agitatedly. In the way you bit your lip in concentration as you traced and coloured and dotted, until at last, you were satisfied.

Once the cap was on the Sharpie, Jisung gently but firmly tugged your body down on top of his, hands resting on your hips. 

“You should come with me,” he mumbled into your ear. “On tour.”

You’d known Han Jisung for all of twenty-four hours, 

And yet you found yourself answering him with a kiss.

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