#all but disappears for several days in a row

[orcelito]

OK I think I'm done. For now.

[commonbard]

[g0dlyunsub]

make you mine.

spencer notices that you’ve been skipping a few too many team socials.

pairing :: spencer x fem bau!reader

warnings :: romantic confessions, mentions of alcohol, mental health, hurt/comfort, plenty of fluff, spencer is a huge softie

word count :: 2.3k

author’s note :: don’t think i’ve written anything where reader and spencer confess their feelings for each other?? anyways here’s to more hurt/comfort 

accompanying song :: sugar by brockhampton

“who’s up for drinks at o’keefe’s?”

a loud cheer erupts as the elevator doors open and reveals garcia standing in front of the entrance with a gleeful smile.

“count me in!” jj raises a hand and emily promptly follows suit. the two giggle as they lean in to embrace the tech analyst festively decorated with bright red jewelry.

when rossi declares the first round’s on me! the room breaks into an even louder celebration, whistles and applause sounding left and right.

moving past the crowd with a few happy chants of your own, you finally settle in your seat and stretch. sighing, you shuffle through the pile of case files sitting on your desk and stuff several into your shoulder bag. you tie up your hair and take out a pen from your pencil holder. once again exhaling with a deep sigh, you flip through the remaining manila folders, ready to document all of the evidence after today’s investigation.

“you’re coming, right?”

you crane your neck to your left to identify the source of the voice and see morgan, hands on his hips as he scans your face for your usual smile teeming with enthusiasm. you offer a feeble smile instead, shaking your head as you point to the case file you’re working on.

“i’d really love to, but… this paper isn’t going to write itself.”

“oh come on, not again. when’s it due?”

“tomorrow noon,” you mumble, gently rolling your head to the side to relieve the pain that’s been begging for release.

“you’re kidding. well, text me if you need a hand, or if you just want company.” morgan pats your back and turns around to leave, but not without first flashing you a wink. you watch as he slings his arm around garcia’s shoulder and as the rest of the team follow the pair out of the office, each giving you a wave before they disappear into the elevator.

“you’re not going?”

you turn around to see spencer, who’s just coming out of hotch’s office and holding a case file of his own. he turns off the lights upstairs and walks down the stairs, stopping once he’s in front of your desk.

“oh, um, no. i just need to finish writing this up really quickly, and then i’ll head back.”

you brush a strand of hair behind your ear and turn in your seat to get back to work, but spencer pulls up a chair beside you.

“that’s the third time in a row you’ve said no to them. you okay?”

you sit still for a second, unsure of how to respond. when spencer leans his elbow on the side of your desk, you know he’s not going to leave without an answer, so you look back at him hesitantly.

“yeah, i’m good. what’s keeping you here?”

“i just left a request to take two days off.”

“oh, nice. yeah, you seriously deserve a break,” you nod and offer a small smile. despite your friendly expression, the tiredness in your voice overrides your genuine words. before you can expose any more of your sluggish lethargy, you revert your attention back to your documents.

“yeah, and so do you.”

you turn to meet his gaze. a serious expression overtakes his usually lax face, tense facial muscles raising his brows and clenching his jaw.

you don’t know how to dispel the air of its building tension so you chuckle, playfully hitting him in the arm and shaking your head. “oh no, that’s- that’s not necessary. i’m fine, spence. besides, i took a break pretty recently.”

you rub your forehead tiredly as you speak and cock your head to the side, as if waiting for spencer’s dismissal so that you can get back to work.

“you haven’t requested a day off in 102 days. that’s 2448 hours.” spencer lowers his chin and studies you with his unwavering eyes. you feel your heart flutter alarmingly at his stare; you swallow slowly.

of course he’d be the one to count the days, no, the exact hour, since your last break. you try to play it off again by nudging him in the elbow, but he looks way too serious, concerned even. your arm hangs in the air with no warmth to latch on to.

“do you want to talk about it?” 

when spencer leans forward, you feel your throat run dry. holding your breath, you weigh your next words very carefully.

“spence, i’m fine. i don’t need the time off.”

“too late.”

“what?” your jaw sets uncomfortably when you hear spencer’s response, and a hint of amusement flickers in his eyes before he quickly narrows them.

“it wasn’t just my request that i submitted. i put in yours as well.”

“wait- wait what?” 

“yeah, hotch just wanted me to leave a physical copy for the sake of documentation. but he approved both of our requests before we even landed.”

“hold up… spence, you just… why would you do that?”

surprisingly, you don’t feel mad. yes, he’s just submitted a leave request without your permission, but maybe this is what you needed. someone to force you to take a break, because otherwise, you’d just work yourself to your death.

“like i said, you haven’t taken a leave in 102 days. constantly overworking yourself is detrimental and can lead to burnout because of the buildup of fatigue. in the long run, it can impair your memory and thinking. so,” he says as he grasps the pen out of your hand and closes your folder, “do you want to talk about it?”

as if he’s perfectly hit your pressure point, the tiredness you’ve been masking this entire time instantly unwinds. you let out a deep, weary sigh.

“you know, two weekends ago, when we went down to south carolina to investigate that case? and i stayed back for a few hours?”

out of the corner of your eye, you see spencer nod.

“well, i met up with a friend from college. we just hung out, you know, tried to catch up with each other.”

when you emit a stressed laugh, spencer reaches for your hand. he gently kneads your palm, and you take it as a signal to continue at your own pace. you turn your head to the side so you can take in the sight of him more fully.

“as we kept talking, i realized how she has so many friends, so much fun outside of her work. she’s even getting married in two months. and i just thought… i honestly wished for a second that she was a little more lonely, like me.”

you close your eyes, instantly regretting your confession. are you really making him listen to your childish concerns? you wish he’d laugh at you, dismiss it as plain stupidity and tell you that you were right to keep it to yourself. but he won’t, because he’s spencer reid.

spencer watches you intently, at how you force out a laugh and brush the tears that are welling up in your eyes. he observes the way you shake your head and refuse to look him in the eye.

“i’m so selfish, aren’t i? this whole thing–it’s so stupid. what am i saying, what am i even doing, wishing for something so foul?” your face crumples as you speak, and the words trail off into an absorbed mumble between your sniffles.

“it’s not stupid. you’re not selfish,” spencer hums quietly, lightly brushing his fingers against your cheek and dragging his thumb across your eyelashes to sweep your tears.

a strangled sob spills from your throat, and you lean into his touch, burying your cheek further into his palm. spencer waits patiently for you to recollect yourself, and coos a constant stream of it’s okay in your ear.

“at first, i thought it was the job, spence,” you finally utter your broken thoughts with a dry laugh, “but then i saw how everyone else was dealing with it. emily, jj, garcia. and then i realized, it’s me.”

spencer swivels your chair and draws you closer to him, so your thighs are lying between his legs. like a confused puppy, you let out a small yelp of surprise.

“you need to understand, y/n, that it takes time to find your rhythm, whether that’s at work, with your social life, or just a new place. so don’t compare yourself to others, because we’re all worried about something, and we’re all at different stages of coping.”

his longing glance breaches your lips, and you lower your eyes shyly. his soft-spokenness, undivided attention, and effortless verbal magic read your emotions like an open book. you don’t have to hide. the tears fall, fast and hard.

“let it all out. it’s okay. it’s always okay to cry, but you know what’s not okay? bottling it up all the time.” he pats your knees and rubs his palms across your trousers soothingly. 

“bottling your feelings constantly, it’s what psychologists call repressive coping. numerous studies have found that repressive coping has been linked to a less resilient immune system, higher vulnerability to cardiovascular disease, as well as proneness to certain mental health conditions, including anxiety and depression,” spencer continues while looking at you sympathetically with his soft brown eyes. 

slowly, you coil your arms around his neck and hold him in a tight embrace. 

“you’re not really fair, spencer, you know that?”

“what do you mean?”

“you can’t just cite all these cool facts when you speak. i don’t have an argument to toss back at you.”

spencer pulls away from the embrace slightly, and looks down at you with eyes full of mirth. he bursts into a small spate of giggles, and it’s contagious, because you also exhale a bubbly laugh.

“i can’t help it,” he breathes quietly, and the air that exits his lips tickles your eyelashes.

spencer continues to watch you with the same stare a sculptor would possess over a block of marble, and breathes warmth into your body. you finally let your arms loose and withdraw from the hug, grinning shyly.

“let me finish this report, and i’ll head back with you. what am i even going to do with the two days off anyways?” 

“i was thinking that we could check out the steam engine festival that’s happening downtown? the 611 is actually the sole surviving member of fourteen class j locomotives produced by the norfolk and western railway, and there’s going to be special excursions reserved for interested passengers.”

you laugh as spencer happily goes on his ramble, and you go back to writing your report – this time with a rejuvenated spirit.

“be honest, spence. you submitted my request because you wanted someone to go with you to this festival, didn’t you?”

“what? no!” spencer shakes his head, but your suspicions only grow when he starts fidgeting with his fingers.

“if you say so,” you grin cheekily, “but i could really use a drink tonight. you coming?”

spencer nods. he waits for you to finish up your edits and sign off the last page of the document, and helps you pack the rest of your belongings into your bag. with a boyish smile, he offers you his elbow, and you loop your arm in his. 

there’s a lot to be thankful for, a lot to be hopeful for, and a lot to love spencer for.

“spencer?” you ask quietly. spencer hums back in response. 

you don’t know why, but a sudden wave of confidence washes over you, urging you to say your next words without holding back.

“i like you.”

you thought your years spent concealing your feelings for spencer would have culminated in a much more formulated confession, but it’s too late to retrace your steps.  

almost immediately, spencer looks at you with widened eyes. you’re almost scared he’s going to abandon you and run away in a nervous flight, but he stays put, his cheeks flushing with the shade of deep red.

“y-you can’t be drunk already,” he stammers and then abruptly chuckles, making you wonder if he’s just attempted to respond to your confession with a joke.

but maybe you are drunk, drunk from the hazy feeling of love and the highs of spilling the emotional torrent earlier. you furrow your brows and fix your stare on the office floor.

“no, spencer, i like you as in i really like you. like, romantically.” 

spencer hesitates this time, moving only to press the elevator call button. you think you’ve just screwed up, right then and there, because his brows shoot up in surprise while his lips thin into a line. 

but then slowly, he smiles, his hazel colored eyes light up, and his gaze darts left and right excitedly. 

maybe all of the stars have aligned perfectly, because the air starts to collapse in on itself rapidly, and he stoops down to press a shaky kiss on your lips. it’s unlike anything you’ve ever shared with him, so different from when he hugs you, when he ruffles your hair, when he pats your back. it’s so tender and he leaves you to glow in the warmth of his lingering touch. 

it’s only after he does this that you realize that you’ve actually just confessed to your coworker, the man you’ve had a crush on for so long, the reason why you show up to work with a smile. before you can second-guess anything, spencer grabs your wrist and pulls you in. it starts with small pecks, but then he works up to a bigger kiss; by the time the elevator arrives, you’ve fully melted into his arms.

“2190 days.”

you look up to meet his blissful gaze with your own love-tainted eyes. “hm?”

“that’s the number of days that have passed since i first met you and started to work with you. i uh,” spencer swallows, toying with the strands on his leather bag nervously. 

he opens his mouth, only to shut it immediately after. he looks at you with a shy smile, the bashfulness dimpling his cheeks, and then clears his throat.

“i like you too.”

[safination]

The Tell

|Masterlist|

Pairings: Alastor x Wife! Fox!Reader TLDR: It's been seven years since you've last seen Alastor, and here he is pretending he doesn't have a tail that tells you how happy he is to see you

This is for @voxtekinc's week 3 prompt: Stop Stalking Me. Many, many thanks to the greatest Rodent ever, @crackrodent, for coming up with the title because I could not. (Fox tail because of Kit.)

Every step that Alastor takes, you take as well. Every corner that he rounds, you round as well. The more steps he takes, the more steps you take. It’s like a funny little dance.

You follow him across the long and unfamiliar hallways of the Hazbin Hotels, passing by different rows of rooms. (Do any of these rooms belong to Alastor?) It’s easy to follow him when Alastor does nothing but walk and walk and walk through these winding halls. Still, you follow and follow and follow him through the halls.

It’s like game you’re playing with your husband. The base of your fox tail curls from side-to-side, forming half hearts with every swish.

Alastor stops in his tracks, and turns behind with dialed eyes. The air glitches around you, and your tail flicks from the look of his eyes. “I can sense you from all the way there, dearest,” he says. “You’re not doing a very good job of hiding from me.”

You step closer to him, a bright smile on your lips as you play with your fingers. “I’m not trying to hide from you, my deer.”

“What are you even doing?” Alastor strikes the floor with his microphone, creting this distance between the both of you. “I told you – I’m busy.”

“I’m not busy,” you say. “So, I’m spending my time with you while you’re off doing whatever it is you’re going to do in this hotel.”

“Go follow someone else.”

“I have no other husbands to follow.” You lean a bit closer with a smile, crossing the line he drew with his microphone. “You disappeared on me for several years! I’m very happy to see you, and I’m taking every chance I can get with you.”

Alastor removes his microphone, and cups your face. His thumb goes up and down the skin of your cheek. It’s been so long since you’ve felt the warmth of his touch. So, if you lean into him more than usual . . . then, that’s your business.

“I’m not going back to our home without you after some tour,” you say, closing your eyes to revel in his warmth. “I would like some time with you as well.”

Alastor smiles that wide smile at you, his shadow towering over your body. “Stop stalking me.”

“I would follow you to the edges of Hell. You should have known that the moment you presented me with a ring.” You stare into his eyes, wide and unblinking. “Had I been any less of a stalker, I would be in Heaven, married to some other fella.”

“We both know that isn’t true,” Alastor boops your nose, leaning down to show off the yellow in his tooth. “You’ve never been able to stop yourself from following after me. Imagine my shock when I found you outside my door with a body.”

You mirror his grin.  “What intrigued you the most—the body or the fact that I found your address?”

“How charming of you, my dear.” Alastor rolls his eyes. “Stop following me.”

“Ha!” You smack his bicep in good fun. “It’s really difficult to leave you alone when you’ve been flirting with me all day.”

“I have not been flirting.”

You lean up, using the tips of your toes, and press one, single kiss on his lips.

Swish.

Swish.

Swish.

Alastor tries to deepen the kiss, but you pull back with the most innocent smile on your face.

The lump behind Alastor’s coat starts to thump between the fabric. The noise is faint, but the hallways is quiet enough. Alastor’s ears flick for a second when he realizes that the swishing sound came from him. Alastor groans into your hair, leaning his weight on you.

You pull away from him, grinning at the way his smile wobbles into embarrassment, and lift the back of his coat. The base of his tail wags in slow movement of left to right. The sight of his deer tail happily swishing cause your own tail to wag like a happy dog.

Alastor presses a hand to his face, grumbling, but still, he allows you to stare into his happy tail. “I should just cut if off.”

“Nonsense!” you say, and the base of your fingers run along the fur of his tail, and you pinch the sensitive base. “I quite like your tail.”

Alastor jumps out, grabbing your wrist with a glare. “Stop it.”

The way he stares into you causes a shiver that straightens out your tail. It settles a type of warmth into your cheeks. Still, your tail happily wags like a dog, curling in the shape of half hearts, as a smile stretches across your face.

“My deer,” you say, and a small giggle escapes you. “This is the most you’ve looked at me today.”

Alastor presses a kiss on the inside of your wrist, and releases it with a smile. He pulls you into a hug, and the moment you return his hug, the base of his tail starts to swish even harder . . . it accompanies your own wagging tail. “You’re quite happy to see me.”

“Why wouldn’t I be happy to see my husband?” You boop his nose. “I would never hide how happy it makes me to see you, my deer.”

Alastor curls into your arms, pressing his forehead on your shoulder. “I’m . . . I’m quite happy to see you as well.”

You tighten your grip on his shirt, as if letting go would make Alastor disappear again.

Still, two happy tails wag together in unison.

[dominantslasherking]

Billy and Stu with dominant Male S/o

My Stories are meant for the much more mature audience, 18+. Backstory: You always manage to catch Billy and Stu's eyes on you, whether it be in the college classroom, or when you're purchase horror stuff, they always seem to follow you. Even in your house you still feel their gazes

The dimly lit college classroom was buzzing with chatter, but not loud enough for the professor to call on anyone. Minding your own business as you were taking notes and sketching little side characters on your notebook out of boredom. Eyes were lingering on you, It wasn't the typical glance or side glance.

The lingering eyes were strong and made you feel a cool sensation run down your spine. With a simple turn of the head, you spotted the two. Billy and Stu, how could not know them? Not only did they garner attention all over the college campus. You would always, always catch them staring, although they may be fast to react and look away.

It can't be a coincidence they just always stare at you, not to mention being in the areas you were, your favorite locations, dining areas.

But the really not-so-funny part is, every time you do end up making a friend at this college, they end up disappearing. It had gotten so bad that even your fellow students grew weary of you, believing you were the infamous 'scream' killer.

However after a night in jail and the kills were happening when you were locked up, you were cleared of suspicion but of course not from the college students.

Once the class ended. You made your way out slinging your bag over the shoulder and sighing.

Almost meticulously, with severe calculation Billy had bumped straight into you. He gave a pretty smile as Billy watched you pick up his books. "Thanks, hah," Billy said his eye gleaming with an intense undertone of desire and pure want.

"It's my fault, I should watch where I was going...lost in thought." Your husky voice mutters, stacking Billy's books neatly in your hand before returning them, noticing the subtle hand movement of Billy where his hand brushed against yours.

Turning your gaze to Billy's friend Stu. Stu was silent, his eyes roaming you. The typically loud and humorous friend was silent strange enough, he licked his lips and gave a big smile. "Wow! I love that shirt!" Billy's face fell at Stu's words, elbowing him in the stomach, not enough to cause him severe pain but make him go 'ow'

"What was that for?!" Stu muttered with a pout. "You idiot, his shirt is just plain gray! what do you mean you like it?" Billy scolded, hinting that he knew Stu was checking [Name] out, and now you probably knew that Stu was eyeballing you.

"Ohhh." Stu muttered, as they continued to whisper and bicker among themselves.

Your chuckle made them pause. "sorry, sorry, you guys are just--funny that's all." You spoke softly, you thought they were cute. Bidding them goodbye, you walk out of the classroom.

Billy stared at stu.

"Whattt? Not my fault he's so sexy!" Stu grumbled out.

<<>>><<>>><><><><><<<>>>>

Later that day. You were at the DVD shop, looking through the thriller/horror second, making sure to get your hands on some classics.

With a loud and abrupt clank, your gaze faltered on the row across from you.

"Oops, did I ruin your guy's peeping session?" Randy had asked Billy and Stu. Stu gritted his teeth, Billy gave a urked glare. But the two of them knowing, your gaze was on them resisted doing something they were dying to do. They would just have to get back at him later.

"Wow! [Name], Thriller & horror movies? Nice dude!" Stu cheered pretending as if he didn't already know that about you...

Stu had started to chitter-chatter with you, while Billy was shooing and waving Randy off. Soon after Randy complied (after rolling his eyes and snarky comments) leaving the three of you alone.

"Ehm,--Well Billy and I, we love those types of genres!" Stu happily said as Billy's attention was now drawn to you, his feverish gaze landing on your lips every time you spoke. Taking a pause you spoke, "Really? why don't you two, come over sometime, we can watch them together?" You ask, as the two slashers freeze, slowly turning to look at each other and then back at you.

"What's the matter?...you don't want to---" Before you could finish what you wanted to say, Billy cut you off. "No-! No, we would love to."

Nodding you smiled, "Sure next time in class, we should set up a time and date." After bidding farewell, and purchasing the movies you got, you left, leaving Billy and Stu to celebrate together.

<<>>><<>>><><><><><<<>>>>

Pausing the movie, you itched the back of your neck, a feeling of a sense of dread washed over you. You had it again. Like someone, was watching, analyzing, observing you.

"Fuck." a whisper, under your breath, as you got up to check your popcorn. Walking to the kitchen, you take out the bowl of popcorn, setting it down as the phone rings.

"Hello?" "What's your favorite scary movie, [Name]?"

[eatmeandbirthmeagain]

HEY GWORL GUESS WHO IT IS 💫. I'M BORED ASF DOING REVISION SO IMMA GIVE YOU A FIC PROMPT 😊😊

Okay so Baldwin doesn't realise this but he has severe separation anxiety from you, and one day you go away to visit a sick relative and he's so lonely all day and he's just mooching about the library and the stables etc etc. When you come back in the evening you realise just how much he missed you and you feel bad about leaving him and you both fall asleep curled up together 💗 (Also you don't HAVE to do this but when they're cuddling at the end of the day Baldwin's golden hair has to be out and you're running your fingers through it when you're reassuring him)

I KNOW YOU'RE SUPER BUSY SO PLZ IGNORE THIS IF YOU HAVE TO DW 🙏🙏

♡ Beautiful Boy - King Baldwin x Reader ♡

♡ Fluff ♡

A/N: Hello Maddy!! Thank you so much for the request girl this is so cute 😭. Havent heard from you for a while, I hope youre doing well 🩷! As always, this is based on the film Kingdom Of Heaven, not the real historical figures. Enjoy!

PS: F/n = Fathers name. I use that term in this oneshot 😅

TW: Leprosy, Separation Anxiety

It had been a few years since the marriage between the king of Jerusalem and the daughter of Lord f/n.

In the time the two had been married, there was rarely a day they spent apart. Every moment of each day was spent together, whether it be in conversation or comfortable silence.

Baldwin, who before his wedding was used to a life of solitude, welcomed the company with open arms. He loved having not just a wife, but a companion who he could share each and every one of his deepest thoughts with.

After so many years of being alone, he was finally whole. He adored being around y/n and she adored being around him. They were perfect for eachother.

But it was not until one day that the young king realized just how much the absence of his wife affected him. He knew that he missed her when she was gone, even if it was for only a few minutes. But he was not aware that her absence could possibly destress him until y/n’s father fell ill.

It was necessary that she went to see him, despite Baldwin not being able to attend by order of his physicians.

“I will be back before sundown” y/n told him with a smile as she mounted her horse.

“I promise you”

“Very well, just please be safe,” the young king replied.

Baldwin found himself fighting back tears as she rode off into the desert, leaving him to watch her disappear into the horizon. He thought about what to do while she was gone.

It was a slow day in the kingdom, not a whole lot to do. Usually on days like this, he and the queen would sit in their shared chambers, playing chess, reading together or just talking about anything.

But not today.

First, Baldwin headed for the library. He ascended the stairs, stopping a few times to catch his breath on account of the mask that restricted his breathing more than it already was.

Cursing under his breath, he finally made it to the library. Baldwin walked silently through the rows and rows of books, wishing that his wife was there to look with him.

Once or twice, he even caught himself calling out her name to come and see an interesting paper he found, only to be met with silence. With a heavy sigh, Baldwin began to descend the stairs once again after finding no cure to his loneliness amongst the books.

He went to the stables, the courtyard, even the kitchen before returning to his chambers after a few hours.

Taking a seat at his desk, the young king felt tears well in his eyes. He felt so alone without her. So anxious and strangely vulnerable. What was happening to him? A man should not rely so heavily on his wife for such things, but he did.

Baldwin pondered this for a while and just when he felt as if he would finally cry, the chamber doors opened and y/n entered the room with a smile.

“Hello darling, how was your day?” she asked cheerfully, putting her bag down.

Baldwin rushed to his wife, wrapping his arms around her neck and pulling her into a tight hug.

“Oh- you missed me did you?” she chuckled, startled by his sudden affection.

Baldwin did not reply, just hugged her tighter and squeezed his eyes shut. Y/n returned the hug, rubbing her husband's back gently. She reached up and pulled his veil off to reveal silky blonde curls before running her hand through them, scratching him behind the ear and over the scalp.

Baldwin groaned softly at the feeling of her hands working away the growing migraine in his head.

“It's getting late, why don't we get some rest hm?” y/n said softly, the young king only nodded in reply. 

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

Baldwin did not let go of his wife a single time as they were getting ready for bed. He was either holding her hand or resting his chin on her shoulder, so y/n never got more than a foot away before he was back by her side.

It was amongst this and his greeting that made y/n realize he had missed her much more than she believed he would. Baldwin had always been somewhat clingy but this hurt her heart. He was so deeply attached to her that it made her never wanted to leave his side again.

Once in bed, Baldwin was very quick to snuggle into his wife.

“You missed me today huh?” y/n said gently, running her fingers through his hair.

Baldwin nodded.

“I missed you too, my love. But I am back now, and I will always come back. No matter how long I'm gone”.

The young king looked up at his wife and smiled. She loved seeing his smile without the mask. He had the cutest little smile and his bright blue eyes always glowed when he looked at her.

Y/n kissed her husband's forehead, pushing a golden curl away from his eye. She cupped his mottled face in her hand. In return, Baldwin nuzzled his cheek into her palm, looking up at her with a dreamy smile.

“You're so beautiful Baldwin” she whispered. “My beautiful boy” 

“I love you y/n” the young king said, the dreamy smile never once leaving his face.

“I love you too Baldwin. And I always will”.

Y/n held her husband close to her that night as he dozed off to sleep in her arms. She waited until he was fast asleep before closing her eyes, just to ensure that he was alright.

Before long, both the young king and queen were sleeping peacefully, curled up together in each other's embrace.

Exactly where they wanted to be.

[reidbae]

Elation

summary: You arrive late to your profiling class, and your entrance turn all eyes on you: Including a certain brunette professor's.

pairing: sub!prof!spencer reid x dom!fem!reader

warnings/mentions: teacher x student relationship, age gap (reader is 22+ and spencer is 32+), AFAB!reader, palming, choking, hair pulling, unprotected piv sex (do not do this pls), vaginal sex, degradation (m receiving), praise (m and f receiving), use of y/n before smut but ma'am and miss during, mild breeding kink, public sex technically, use of a gag, literally just filth tbh, reader is the dom but spencer's kinda bratty/semi-dominant and bites her back, idc if this is unrealistic BUT NO ONE SEES Y'ALL OK

a/n: HELLO i am very sorry for my disappearance and i am very glad to be back! also thank y’all for 200 followers wtf <3 i hope you like this! :) (also see if you can catch the 68 kill reference)

w/c: 4k

You walked as quickly as you could to your class, your heels making your presence loud and known as you held your bag over your shoulder, a late pass in your hand.

You had to finish a test for another class that morning, and, as a result, would be late to your first class of the day, your profiling class. You had warned your professor, Professor Reid, ahead of time that you would be late to his class today, but it wasn't going to make walking in any less embarrassing, especially if he was in the middle of a lecture.

You were wearing a short red dress, that clearly accentuated your figure, and it was a bit revealing around your chest. You were in black heels, too, and your hair and makeup made you look incredibly dolled up. Not that you had anything in particular going on today, but it wasn't a crime to look good, was it?

Besides, some attention from Professor Reid wouldn't hurt.

The man was undeniably attractive. Older, yes, but attractive. You weren't one of those girls who was only auditing his class to stare at him, but anyone in their right mind would take a liking to both him and his appearance.

Not that you were looking for the attention (Or were you?), but it would be nice.

You pushed open the door to the classroom, and you instantly muttered a number of expletives under your breath as the door creaked loudly. All eyes immediately landed on you, including Professor Reid's, but you maintained your composure.

Your presence cut Spencer off mid-sentence, and, as you suspected, he was in the middle of a lecture when you opened the classroom door. His eyes bored into yours, quickly scanning your figure, as you tried to close the door as quietly as possible.

You walked down to the front of the classroom to give Spencer your late pass, your heels clicking the wooden floor, that, in that moment, seemed to be creakier than the door. You felt like you were on a runway with the way everyone was staring at you, and your walk was earning several whistles and murmurs from your classmates.

It was only tolerable because you knew that the only reason everyone was staring was because you looked good.

"Sorry I'm late, sir," you said to Spencer as you handed him your late pass. His face was red, redder than you'd ever seen it, and—Was that sweat on his forehead? Once again, his eyes shamelessly roamed your body, and he had to clear his throat to get himself to talk.

"No worries. I hope your test went well," Spencer smiled at you. You muttered a brief, "Thank you," before taking a seat in the front row.

As you did, the whistles and chatter from your classmates continued, to which Spencer responded, "Okay, relax. I'm sure if Miss Y/L/N wanted those completely inappropriate whistles, she would ask for them." Your classmates chatter dissolved into laughter at the comment, and your face broke into a smile. "Now, shall we?"

For the entirety of the lecture, Spencer's eyes seemed to never leave yours, or your outfit. You knew that it wasn't technically abnormal for him to be looking at you, considering the fact that he was giving a lecture, and would naturally be looking at the class, but the attention his eyes were giving you was too hard to ignore.

After class, you were finishing up your notes as the rest of your class filed out of the room. Once you were done, you were the last one left in the classroom, and you were putting your notebook into your bag when another voice cut through the silence: Spencer's voice.

He cleared his throat, then said, "Do you have any last minute questions for me, Y/N?"

"Oh, no, that's okay, Professor," you returned. "Just needed to put some final touches on my notes, that's all," you smiled warmly.

"Alright, then. Do you have a class after this?" he asked you. You noticed that he was no longer where he stood for his lectures in the front of the class, but in front of your desk, and you weren't exactly sure when he'd got there.

"Yeah, but I've got time," you said. "Why, did you need something?"

Why did you even ask him that?

Spencer's face lit up in a blush at your words, and he shook his head. "Me? Oh, no. I just wanted to make sure you wouldn't be late. If you need a pass, or need me to call anyone, I can."

"Oh, thanks. I think I'll be okay, though," you told him. Spencer nodded, his eyes wavering over you once more, and this time, you returned his gaze, allowing your eyes to soar between his face, lips, suit, and—Belt.

After a moment of silence, you cleared your throat, and spoke up once more. "What about you? Any classes to teach after this?" you asked, resting your hand on your hip.

"I've got my, uhm, prep block until 12 P.M., so, technically not," Spencer explained to you. You noticed the way he paused, stammering in your presence, and the nervous look across his face. You cocked an eyebrow.

"I see. That's good," you said with a shrug. He responded with a quiet, "Yeah."

"Can I ask you something, Professor Reid?" you asked as you looked up at him with a quizzical expression.

He nodded. "Yes, Y/N, what is it?" Spencer returned.

"Do I make you uncomfortable?" you finally blurted as you allowed your curiosity to get the best of you. Spencer raised his eyebrows, and, if it was even possible, his face got redder than it already was.

"What? No, of course you don't make me uncomfortable. Why do you ask?"

"Well, you've got your hands in your pockets, and you've taught us that people hide their hands when they're nervous. You're also red, and it looks like you're sweating," you shrugged. "You just look uncomfortable, and I was wondering if I had something to do with that."

Spencer looked down and chuckled. He licked his lips before saying, "Sometimes, I forget that I teach you how to analyze people's behavior. But you don't make me uncomfortable, Y/N, I promise," he assured you. And yet, his hands remained hidden, his face remained pink, and the truth remained buried.

And, although you had a good idea of what it could be, you were determined to figure it out.

"Well, there must be something going on, Professor," you pushed as you walked around your desk. The two of you were even closer, face to face, at that, and Spencer swallowed.

"Y/N—" he breathed as you moved closer to him.

"I've seen the way you look at me. It's kind of obvious. You'd think a profiler would hide that better," you smirked up at him.

Spencer cleared his throat. "I'm not sure I know what you're talking about," he murmured as he looked down at the ground.

You bit your lip, incredibly aroused by how riled up he seemed to be by your voice alone, and put a hand on his chest. "I think you know exactly what I'm talking about, Professor."

"You're not that subtle, either," he said. His brown eyes looked down to meet yours, and as they did, you could now clearly see the sweat perspiring on his forehead.

"I'm not trying to be. You, on the other hand, attempt so desperately to bury your feelings, probably because you know how wrong this is. Honestly, it's cute," you said, your thumb tracing absentminded circles in the middle of his chest.

You used your other hand now, both hands now smoothing soft circles higher, just below his shoulders. Spencer's breath hitched in his throat as he watched you, but a small smirk mirroring yours played across his face now.

"This is wrong," he said softly to you. "I'm your professor."

"That doesn't stop you from wanting me so badly," you didn't hesitate to remind him. Your next words came out in a whisper as you leaned closer and said, "It's okay. I want you, too."

That was all it took for Spencer to finally lean in, crashing his lips onto yours, taking your face into his hands, and God, was it hot. You kissed him back with mirroring desperation, pulling his body impossibly closer to yours. That was when Spencer took you into his arms, lifting you with ease, and sitting on the chair of your desk, placing you on his lap so that you were straddling him.

"Someone's eager," you teased between kisses. All he could do was nod, too desperate for more, too desperate for you. He pulls you back in, tongue riding yours as his hands forcefully grip your hips.

You hold his face, pressing him as close to you as you possibly can, and eventually, without even thinking, you slowly grind your hips on his lap. He responds with a whorish moan, looking up at you with an expression that said nothing but lust.

"Oh, God, you're so hard. You like that, huh?" you asked in a teasing voice.

"Y- Yeah, fuck," Spencer responded, hands digging further into your hips.

"Save your voice," you rasped. "You'll need it for when I fuck you."

"Y- Y/N, your class," Spencer reminded you in a stutter as your hands played with his belt.

"Ten minutes is all I need with you, Professor," you smiled, catching your bottom lip between your teeth as Spencer's belt clattered to the ground. "Besides, you can write me a late pass, can't you?"

"Yes. Yes, I can," he moaned.

"Then, don't worry about the time. Worry, about this," you said. With that, you dipped your hand into his now unzipped pants, touching him gently through his boxers. Spencer's eyes immediately closed, and his head cocking backwards ever so slightly.

"Oh, fuck, Y/N, that's-" Spencer whined, cutting himself off with another moan.

"Hm, Professor?" you teased nonchalantly, as if you were merely discussing your latest assignment. "What is it?"

"Good," he finished. "So good."

You chuckled at the sloppy, desperate view in front of you, your hand just barely touching Spencer's hard, aching cock, and him falling apart for it, sweat sticking several hairs to his forehead.

"Anyone could walk in and see you so needy for me like this," you chuckled. He was about to respond, but you quickened your movements, pressing your hand harder and eliciting a whine from him.

"I don't care," he shook his head. "This feels too good."

"Tell me how much you want this, Professor," you cooed softly, your words leaving your lips as a husky whisper. Your hand pressed down on Spencer's hard dick, taking what you could hold into your hand through his boxers.

"I want this, Y/N," Spencer said quickly, hands roaming your hips and back as he spoke in a soft tone. That rosy blush had never left his face as you responded with, "How much?"

"So much," he said desperately. "God, please, Y/N," he begged, neither of you even entirely sure what he was begging you for.

"That's pretty vague," you chuckle. "Tell me, Professor. Please, what?" you snap.

"Shit, I want to feel you, Y/N," Spencer whined in the brattiest tone you'd heard from him, evidently impatient for your touch.

As soon as the words leave his lips, one of your hands yanks his hair and pulls him back, to which he immediately groans.

"First of all, Spencer, don't fucking sass me. Second of all, I don't want my name to fall from your lips until I've got you coming and moaning it. Nod if you understand me, Spencer," your voice rang out in a domineering tone.

Taken aback by your tone, and so not used to being spoken to like this in his own goddamn classroom, Spencer shyly nodded, his cheeks a vibrant pink.

"Listening for once, huh? About time. You can call me ma'am or miss until I've got you where I want you. Is that clear?" you asked him. All this time, your hands had never stopped touching Spencer, and he had had a hard time responding to you this entire time through small whimpers and groans.

Spencer only nodded, to which you shook your head.

"Say it."

"Yes, ma'am."

"That's a good boy," you praised him softly as you leaned in closer, an amused smile across your face. "I'm going to fuck you so good. Is that something you'd want, baby?"

"Y- Yes, ma'am, it is," Spencer's hoarse voice rasped out. "You're sure you want to do this here? I could easily take you to my office, miss."

You giggled at his cluelessness as the hand that was touching him came to run through his hair. Didn't he know how much hotter the risk made this? Your fingers played with his soft locks as you answered, "Oh, sweetheart, you and I both know that you can't wait that long. Besides, I don't care who walks in. They'll see how desperate you are for me, and it'll be you who has to explain," you teased.

Spencer's face reddened as he fumbled with his words. "I- Well- Okay," he decided, because of his physical incapability to say anything else.

"Anyways, if you keep it quiet, there'll be nothing to worry about. So, do me a favor," you teased as you pushed your thumb into his mouth. "And keep your mouth shut. You can do that, baby, can't you?" you whispered. Spencer nodded with urgency.

"That's good. That's so, so good, Professor," you teased him. Your free hand came down to hike up your dress, revealing to Spencer your lace panties, that weren't covering all that much. The view made Spencer whimper out with need, only encouraging you to remove them at a tantalizingly slow pace.

You held eye contact with Spencer as you removed them entirely, discarding them on the desk behind the two of you. Next, you removed Spencer's cock from his boxers, biting back a moan at the view you were met with.

You knew he'd pack a lot from the day he'd become your professor, but, God, to see it in person like this, long, hard, and aching for you was almost too much.

"Jesus Christ, Professor. I've got you so worked up over what should be considered nothing in comparison to what I'm about to do to you," you smirked. You took his cock into your hand, pumping him up and down a few times, which only increased his desperation as he moaned around your finger. "Ready?" you asked finally.

Spencer could only nod, his face a deep scarlet hue, hips bucking up into your exposed cunt. You smirked.

Finally, you lowered yourself onto his cock. You'd fantasized about this moment so many times, and no amount of hours of touching yourself to the notion could even amount to the real thing.

Your pace was slow as you rode him, both hands digging into Spencer's soft brown locks. He lets out a moan he isn't sure how long he's been holding as you release your thumb from his mouth, and his hands instantaneously grip your hips as you start to ride him.

"Oh, God, Spencer, you're big," you praise him as your eyes shut. Your mouth doesn't, though, as small whines and whimpers fall from it, your lips curling up into a smirk.

"Th- Thank you, miss," Spencer whines back, rubbing soft, slow circles into your hips. He moves your dress out of the way so he can see you completely, hiking it up to your torso, and basking in the view of you. "You're so beautiful, miss. So, so beautiful."

All you can do is giggle as heat rises to your face. Once again, you bite your lip as you say, "Fucking my professor in his own classroom. So unethical and yet so, so hot," you rasp as you open your eyes again, gazing into his.

"You look so good," he tells you again, his words coming out in a pant. "You feel so good."

You pulled him back by his hair, exposing his neck, that was now entirely at your disposal, and attacking it with your lips. You press your lips against him with hunger, kissing and sucking, leaving as many marks as you please. The world was going to know he was yours if you had anything to say about it.

"You like how dirty this is, don't you, Professor?" you muttered, as close to his ear as you could possibly be. "You like the fact that anyone could walk in and see you falling apart for me, huh?"

Spencer only whimpers in response, squeezing your hips harder and shifting a bit as you continue to ride him, your pace quickening. That wasn't the answer you were looking for, and once you were sure he wasn't going to verbally answer you, you say, in a teasing voice, "Oh, come on, sir, give me more than that."

The moment you say this, an expression flashes across his face, one that can only be described as pornographic. It's whorish and needy, and you're almost worried you've already made him come, until you realize exactly why he just looked at you like that.

You chuckle and shake your head, unaware that he could somehow become more desperate than he already was. "What was that look for, sir?" You enunciate the word once more, and Spencer turns his eyes away from yours.

You grab his face, turning him to look at you, and rasp, "You like it when I call you 'sir', don't you, Professor?"

"Yes, miss. Very much," he instantly confessed to you. You smirked.

"Good, because I'm going to keep calling you it," you smile, and he nods in approval. Your hips continue to snap against Spencer's cock as you use him to pleasure the two of you completely.

"Open your mouth for me, sweetheart," you coo. Spencer couldn't oblige any faster, and when he does, you insert your thumb back into it. "Suck."

Spencer sucks like a man dehydrated, wrapping his lips around your finger with a look of compliance, incredibly eager to be as obedient as you want him to be.

"Such a good boy. I like seeing you so slutty like this. Because that's what you are, isn’t it?" you tease, giggling. You ride his dick to the top, pause for only a second, and crash back down onto him. "My slut."

Spencer nodded in return, his puppy eyes boring into yours as he gags around your finger. You remove it from his mouth and say, "Say it."

"I'm your slut, miss. I'm all yours," he indulges you.

"That's what I like to hear," you smiled. "Fucking you in such a public place when anyone could walk in. Such a bad girl, aren't I, Professor?"

"Yeah, you are a bad girl," Spencer moans out. His hands move from your hips to your tits, taking one in each hand, and working quickly with them. You moan when he does.

He's not only desperate for you, but desperate to make you feel good, too.

"Oh, that's so fucking good, Professor," you whine. Your movements grow quicker, as you both grow desperate to feel Spencer as deep inside your cunt as you possibly can be, and you groan out.

"I'm so, so glad, miss," he says in, arguably, his most submissive tone yet, and you bite your lip as blood runs to your face, flushing it with a red hue that surely mirrors Spencer's.

"You're so good for me, Professor," you moan.

"Fuck, miss, please say my name," Spencer begs you. One of his hands squeezes your waist again, eliciting a lewd moan from you, and you can't help but oblige.

"Spencer," you whine.

"Again," Spencer moans back, fondling your tit harder with one hand, and squeezing down on your hip as forcefully as possible with the other.

"Spencer," you moaned again, maintaining eye contact with him as his name fell from your lips.

"Yeah, just like that, miss," said Spencer.

As if it's the most natural thing in the world, you dip your head back into the crook of his neck, and begin to kiss him there. You bite hard enough to leave marks, and suck with enough force to leave a trail of hickeys wherever your lips touch.

Spencer's a whimpering mess above you, and as much as you love how vocal he's being, you don't love the idea of someone hearing the two of you, as much as you'd said you did.

The idea was hot, but getting caught fucking your profiling professor by a classmate, or God forbid, another professor, was absolutely mortifying, and not on your to-do list today.

"Keep it down, Spencer. Don't make me shut you up," you warned him between kisses. You bring a hand up to squeeze his neck. Surely, a bit of choking would get to his head, wouldn’t it?

It doesn't, and he stutters out above you, his voice broken and whiny. "M- Miss, I-" but he doesn't even finish his sentence as he cuts himself off with his own moan.

You remember the lace panties you'd forgotten on the desk a while ago, and the hand that isn't choking Spencer naturally reaches back to grab them. Without thinking twice, you shove them into Spencer's mouth, and he groans around them.

"I told you to shut up. Don't think you can misbehave and I won't punish you for it," you spat, biting into his neck again as your hold around his throat tightens. Spencer whimpers and nods, and you were sure that if he could speak, he would mumble an assortment of apologies.

"Tap me when you're ready to finish, so I can hear my name on your lips when you do. Until then, I'm going to use you just as I have been," you smirked, continuing to ride Spencer.

Over the next few minutes, the air's filled with moans from the two of you, and, if it was even possible, you had pushed him further inside of you. Spencer's hands roam everywhere in replace of his inability to speak, and he's as eager to get you to your high as you are to get him to his.

Eventually, Spencer taps your arm with urgency, and you can tell from the look in his eyes that he's close. You look up at him with a mirroring expression, and ask, "Close, sweetheart?"

Spencer nodded with a desperation you'd never seen from him before, and, in that exact second, you pull your panties from his mouth, and discard them on the desk behind you again.

"God, I'm going to cum, Y/N," are his first words. Your name sounds like honey falling from his lips, and you nod just as fervently as he had.

"Let it out, then, baby," you moan. "Come inside of me," you then rasp.

Spencer yanks you in and kisses you passionately, his hands tangled in your hair, and your hands tangled in his. One of his hands moves down to help you along, rubbing hard, fast circles on your clit. It's almost too much, and you're almost too sensitive: Almost. Your tongues dance with each other as you ride out your high, and Spencer fills you to the brim with his cum. You finally come undone, riding him as fast as possible in order to pleasure the both of you, and God, does it work.

When you've completely finished, you pull back for air, practically gasping for it as loud pants fall from your lips. "Jesus, Spencer. You were so good. Did you get off well, baby?" you ask him.

"Yes, ma'am," Spencer smiled as he softly rubbed your back, the desperation that was present a few minutes ago being replaced with a notable softness. "And thank you."

"Mmhm," you mutter as you press your lips to his again. You rest your forehead against his and smile. "You know that, uh, late pass you were talking about?

Spencer chuckled. He already knew what you were about to say. "Yeah?"

"I think I’m going to need it."

—

both requests and reblogs are appreciated :)

—

[skyward-floored]

Whumptober Day 1: Race against the clock, panic attack

Hello everybody and welcome back to the fourth year in a row of me beating up nine blond guys (plus others) for a month, please enjoy the show 👍

Warnings: fire, smoke inhalation, minor injuries, and a panic attack.

Ao3 link

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He had maybe five minutes left.

Wild tore through the smoke and flames of the burning dungeon, squinting through eyes blurred with painful tears for any flashes of green or grey, a familiar pelt, dusty brown hair... anything.

All he saw were flames though, colored an unnatural reddish tone. Wild leapt to avoid some as they flared up, then stopped to hack through the cloth he’d tied over his mouth, throat burning from the smoke.

He was hating wizzrobes more by the second. He’d defeated the group of them that had swarmed him and Twilight, but they’d been black-blooded, and exploded into flames as they’d died. It was just unnatural the way their fire was eating at the rocks, melting pillars and devouring walls. How they’d set fire to an entire dungeon largely made of stone was beyond him.

And of course, all this had happened right after Twilight had been snatched by some weird hand-monster and disappeared.

Of course it had.

Now Wild had mere minutes left before the whole place collapsed or he passed out from smoke inhalation, and he had no clue where Twilight was.

“Rancher?!” Wild shouted in a rasp, then doubled over into a coughing fit again. The smoke even tasted unnatural, thicker than woodsmoke, and sweet, but in a sickly way.

Something cracked off in the distance, and the ground trembled beneath Wild’s feet. He dragged in not nearly deep enough of a breath, and kept running, occasionally squinting at the tattered map in his hands. There was only one area he hadn’t been in yet in his search. Twilight had to be there.

Wild leapt over a fallen pillar and entered the last room, squinting through smoke and heat. His eyes fell on a cage at the back wall, and he gasped, the figure inside unmoving.

“Twilight!” Wild shouted, then coughed, already working his way across the room.

Twilight didn’t say anything in reply to his voice, and Wild sped his steps, ignoring the rawness of his throat and the sting in his eyes. There were some of those blade trap things that had been in an earlier area of the dungeon in the way, but Wild deftly avoided them, even despite several being on fire.

He finally reached the cage, and dropped to his knees beside it, breathing hard.

“Twi,” Wild gasped, the words more of a cough than a greeting, “Twi, can you hear me?”

Twilight was huddled in the very back corner of the cage, his hands over his head. His eyes were squeezed shut, and he didn’t reply to Wild’s voice, staying curled up in a ball. Fear shook through Wild at the sight of Twilight so vulnerable, that something had happened to him, that he was hurt, that something was wrong—

“I’ll get you out,” Wild reassured in a voice he tried to make comforting, already feeling for any weakness in the bars. “Hold on.”

He located a portion of the cage where the metal was weakened, bars rusted and loose. Magnesis was hard to use when your hands were shaking, but after a few tries and some help from an old sword, Wild managed to tear the loose metal away, and bolt inside.

Twilight was breathing hard, his eyes open now and reflecting the flames, and Wild grabbed his wrists, giving him a quick shake.

“Rancher, hey, come on,” he croaked. Twilight’s glazed vision flicked to Wild’s face. “Link, wake up, I need you with me.”

Twilight still stared at him, eyes eerily blank, but then they focused, and he gasped, lurching backwards from Wild as he looked around in terror.

“No— no, what—”

“Link,” Wild repeated, heart pounding wildly. He inched closer to Twilight. “Don’t look at the flames, look at me. We need to get out of here.”

Twilight’s breathing sped up, his eyes reflecting the flames as he stared at them. Wild tried to catch his gaze but Twilight wasn’t paying any attention to him, pulling his hands away and digging his fingers into his scalp, breath wheezing as his chest heaved.

“Twi,” Wild begged, snatching his hands away from his hair. “Come on, I’m here to help you! We need to go!”

Wild gave his hands a tight squeeze, and Twilight flinched, blinking hard as his shoulders hitched up. His eyes darted around, and Wild got up in his face so it would be much harder for him to see the flames.

“Link, please, breathe,” Wild pleaded. “We’re not going to make it if we don’t go now!”

Twilight flinched again at the shout, then swallowed, his eyes suddenly fixing on Wild.

“W-Wild,” he said in a shaking voice, and Wild nodded, squeezing his hands. “Wild, what...”

“Wizzrobes, magic fire, you got snatched, I beat the wizzrobes but they set the place on fire,” Wild quickly explained, and swallowed as he looked over Twilight. “Did that hand thing hurt you? Are you okay?”

Twilight’s breath hitched. “No. Yes. I mean I... I think so?”

His gaze flicked to the flames again, and Wild felt a tremor go through him, panic in his expression. Wild let go of his hands and took his shoulders instead, giving him another shake.

“Twilight. You can’t freak out now, we have to get out of here,” Wild said firmly. His throat scratched as he spoke. “We...”

Wild fell into another coughing fit, breath tight, throat burning. It took him much longer to stop coughing than the last time, and getting in air was a lot harder, tears dripping from his eyes with the effort.

A hand clasped at his shoulder as he wheezed, and Wild glanced up to see Twilight looking at him. Twilight was still breathing fast, face pale, eyes wide, but his expression had slipped to an emotion Wild was more used to seeing on his face.

Worry.

“Are you okay?” Twilight asked, and Wild nodded, wheezing as his fit finally ended.

“Yeah... just... smoke,” he rasped, careful not to fall into another fit when he spoke. “Place is gonna... come down... need to go.”

Twilight looked out at the dungeon, flames roaring as they devoured the old temple, and he swallowed thickly. But when he looked back at Wild he nodded, and they both got to their feet, legs shaking for different reasons.

Twilight had an iron grip on Wild’s arm as they finally left the cage, and the two began to work their way back to the entrance.

It wasn’t easy. Everywhere Wild looked there were more of those reddish flames, purplish-pink at the center, plumes of sweet-yet-rancid smoke roiling through the air. A lot of the path he’d taken to get to Twilight in the first place just wasn’t there, and they had to pick their way around all kinds of rubble.

Everything seemed like it was on fire now, and sweat and tears poured in equal amounts down Wild’s face, eyes burning with smoke. They rushed back through the temple, dodging falling stone and roaring flames, Twilight shaking every time the fire got anywhere near them.

Wild glanced at him, the rancher’s grip on his arm nearly bruising, and swallowed.

Wild knew Twilight was wary around fire. He’d seen him stay back whenever Legend got out his fire rod, or Hyrule lit his sword up in flames, and generally fight fiery enemies from as far a distance as he could. He’d even teased him about it, and Twilight had shoved him and teased him right on back about being too willing to solve his problems with fire.

But this was more than wariness. This was straight-up terror at the sight of the flames, and Wild had never seen Twilight so blatantly afraid of something before.

What had happened to him?

A huge pillar came crashing down mere feet away from them, and Twilight and Wild scrambled back against the wall, heat pressing against their faces. Wild heard Twilight’s breath catch, and he tugged him in a different direction.

It was getting harder and harder to breathe, even with the cloth over his mouth. Wild’s steps faltered suddenly, and he stumbled against a part of the wall, breathing hard. They didn’t have time for him to stop, but he had to catch his breath, just for a moment.

“Wild? You good?” Twilight asked, voice raspy, but less so than Wild’s was.

Wild straightened, but before he could assure him that he was fine, a scratch in his throat made him cough, and before he knew it he was practically bent double, dry, wracking coughs pouring out of him.

Somehow he landed on the floor, and Twilight’s voice was frantic in his ear, a hand pressing at his back as it tried to help him.

Panic lurched in Wild’s middle, the lack of air only making his breath speed up. His world narrowed to the tightness in his lungs, the way they refused to take in as much air as he needed, and the dry feeling in his throat that made him want to cough with every breath.

The worst of it finally faded, but the fit had sapped most of Wild’s remaining energy. His head was spinning, throat dry as bone, and his breath was little more than desperate wheezes.

“Wild?”

Wild managed to raise his head and look at Twilight, the rancher‘s face pure alarm.

“Can you walk?” he asked, and Wild swallowed, trying to raise himself up on shaking legs. He got about halfway before a tremor shook the ground, and both he and Twilight lost their balance.

A portion of wall abruptly collapsed nearby, crashing to the ground mere feet from their boots. Flames burst into the air, and Twilight scrambled backwards, pressing one arm over Wild while the other covered his face from the sparks. Heat roared against them, and Wild felt it sear his uncovered skin.

More of the wall collapsed around them, and though Wild tried to scramble to his feet, his legs were like chu jelly when he put weight on them.

“Can’t...” Wild wheezed when Twilight looked at him, his chest too tight to explain further.

He couldn’t walk, not like this, not with his head spinning and vision darkening at the edges. The flames would overtake the structure any moment now, and he was slowing Twilight down.

“G-get out... Twi...” he managed to rasp.

“Not without you,” Twilight said firmly, and he looked at the flames, fear still reflecting in his eyes. He exhaled shakily, and then his face hardened with determination. “Come on Wild. We’re getting out of here.”

He clutched Wild’s arm, then pulled him to his feet, slinging Wild’s arm over his shoulders. Wild stumbled against him, but managed to keep his balance with Twilight’s firm grip.

Twilight began pulling him through the blaze, dodging flames and collapsing architecture, and Wild stumbled clumsily beside him. He was slowing them down, badly, but he didn’t have the breath to insist Twilight leave him.

We’re not going to make it! he wailed inwardly, but Twilight kept dragging him, hands shaking where they supported Wild.

Fire dripped from the wall beside them like a living thing, and Wild felt Twilight violently flinch from it. He just kept going though, even despite the spreading flames and nearly unbearable heat.

Wild found himself relying more and more on Twilight as they went, his legs refusing to behave. Despite how he tried to walk himself, most of his weight was soon being supported by the rancher.

Are we close? Wild thought blearily, fighting the urge to stop and cough violently into his arm. He’d lost the map, and anything that would have given away which room they were in was either in flames or actively falling to pieces.

“We’re almost out, we’re almost out, we’re almost out,” Twilight began to repeat under his breath, and Wild would’ve joined him if he’d had any breath to. “Please light spirits we’re almost out we’re almost out—”

An ominous crack rang through the dungeon, and Wild heard Twilight’s breath catch. His steps sped up even more, and Wild did his best to hurry along with him, breath wheezing, eyes teary from smoke and yet much too dry.

The walls melted and crumbled around them, the ceiling warping and groaning as flames ate away at it. A light different then the fire glinted in Wild’s fading vision, and Twilight let out a guttural cry as he ran towards it.

Flames roared, something crashed, and Twilight threw him and Wild out of the dungeon.

They tumbled down the stairs that had led to the door, and the structure collapsed into itself with a roar behind them, a blast of hot air sending them both to the ground. Wild might’ve passed out for a moment, but he honestly wasn’t sure.

A violent wheeze escaped him, his chest tight and aching, vision still darkened at the edges. He might’ve been shaking, but he couldn’t even tell he was so dizzy from the lack of air.

A hand pulled the cloth at his face down, then settled in his hair, and Wild blearily recognized it as Twilight’s, the other hero’s face streaked with ash.

“We made it,” Twilight croaked, and Wild coughed, trying to reply, but unable to get the words out. “We m-made it pup. Thank you.”

Wild pulled in a rasping breath, tears still dampening his cheeks, but he managed a weak smile. Twilight let out a short, panicked laugh, and curled around Wild where they were both lying in the grass. Despite how overheated he felt, Wild appreciated the contact.

He listened to Twilight’s heart hammer in his chest, the panic he’d been fighting away obviously breaking free. Twilight let out another panicked laugh, this one a fair bit more hysterical, and held Wild tight.

Wild clutched back as best as he could, and relief and exhaustion suddenly swept over him, intense and thick.

They’d made it.

Despite everything, they’d made it.

And Wild’s body took that as a sign that it was finally safe to pass out.

[lozchi]

KNOCKDOWN Chapter 1

Masterlist Pairing(s):Sukuna x F!Reader, Modern AU

Themes: Suggestive content, profanity, mild violence, slow burn, childhood friends to lovers, OOC, fluff, angst(ish)

Chapter 1: 3,567 words

Surrounded by textbooks, notes, and surgical procedure diagrams, you find yourself completely focused on your medical studies as you sit at your messy desk. The sole source of light in the room is the gentle radiance of your desk lamp, creating elongated shadows on the pages – focused on the intricate drawings, trying to remember every part of the procedure. The outside world gradually disappears, and time goes by without you realizing it, the bright daytime gradually transitions into the dark colors of evening outside your window, enveloping you in a quiet state of intense concentration.

A voice calls out your name, faint and far away, barely noticeable in your awareness. You allowed it to go by without losing your concentration. Shortly after, the voice rings once more, with increased volume and urgency, disrupting your concentrated state.  

The abrupt calling seems like a harsh disruption in the fragile strand of your focus, and you work to ignore the annoyance.You sigh in frustration and mumble quietly, "Ugh, what do you want, Shoko?"

Shoko’s voice rang out through your shared apartment once more, jolting you from your concentration as she yelled your name.

You looked up from the sea of medical papers strewn across your desk. “What’s up, Shoko?”

“'What's up?' You fucking tell me 'what's up'! you haven’t eaten yet. How long are you gonna be nose-deep in all those papers?” she asked, leaning against your doorframe with an exasperated look.

Six years into med school, you were suffering. The endless studying, the sleepless nights—it all weighed heavily on you. Shoko was in the same boat, but she always seemed to handle it better. Maybe because she indulged in stress-free activities or she was just naturally talented in managing herself, maybe both. Whatever it is, she hid her struggles well.

“Relax.” you said, trying to sound casual. “Just a few more pages and I’ll eat breakfast.”

Shoko’s eyebrows shot up. “It’s literally 6 in the evening. What do you mean ‘breakfast’!?”

She walked over, plopping down on the edge of your bed. “You need to take some time for yourself. I bet you don't even know what day it is.”

You rolled your eyes, though you knew she had a point. “I do get to relax sometimes.”

Shoko smirked. “When was the last time you had fun?”

“Yesterday!” you replied, a bit defensively. 

She raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? Doing what?”

You hesitated, then admitted, “I killed five mosquitoes in a row.”

Shoko blinked at you, then burst out laughing. “Seriously? That’s your idea of fun?”

You sighed, unable to help but smile at her incredulity. “It was surprisingly satisfying.”

Shoko shook her head, her laughter subsiding into a warm, affectionate smile. “You’re something else, you know that? But seriously, take a break. The world won’t end if you step away from the books for a little. You really need to loosen up a bit more. How about we cook some food and watch a movie?"

You glanced at the mountain of papers in front of you, feeling the weight of all the work yet to be done. But as you looked at Shoko’s earnest expression, you realized she was right. You did need a break, even if it was just for a little while. You nodded, knowing she was right. “Okay, okay. I’ll rest. Just for a bit.”

Shoko grinned, getting up to head to the kitchen. “Good. Now come on, let’s get some real food in you before you wither away.”

As you followed her out of the room, you couldn’t help but think about how much you relied on her to keep you grounded. Despite how hard med school was, having a friend like Shoko made it all a bit more bearable.

“Okay..." you conceded. “But I'm picking the movie.”

“Deal." Shoko said with a grin. You leaned back in your chair, letting out a long breath. Maybe this was exactly what you needed.

Shoko took out several vegetables from the fridge, humming to herself as she began to prepare dinner. She glanced over her shoulder at you, a playful smirk on her face, deciding to tease you once again. “Y’know, I bet you have no idea what a Ligma is.” she laughed.

"Shut up, I know what that is."

Shoko smirked, but she remained silent. Just then, her phone rang, and she answered it quickly. “Ah, sorry, I actually have something to attend to. Don’t forget to eat!” she called out, grabbing her bag and heading to the door.

“I’m eating instant ramen,” you muttered to yourself as you watched her leave. With a sigh, you decided to head to the nearby convenience store to pick up some good old cup ramen.

-

Once you arrived at the nearby 7/11, you crouched down in front of the aisle to grab a cup of ramen. Deciding to heat it up and eat it there instead of taking it home, you made your way to the hot water dispenser, preparing your quick meal.

With your hot cup of ramen in hand, you took a seat at one of the small tables. As you started eating, you noticed a tall, muscular guy trying to get your attention. He had black hair, a noticeable scar on his lip—his build was insane, making you momentarily consider hitting the gym.

“Excuse me, miss, can you watch over my son for a little? It’ll be quick.” he asked, his voice deep but polite.

“Oh, sure,” you said, looking at the cute little boy who's probably no older than 8 –standing next to him.

“Dad, I want candy." the boy demanded.

“Only a bit, Gumi. Otherwise momma would kill me.” the man chuckled before heading off, leaving you with the child.

The boy immediately took out a phone and began watching something. You couldn’t help but notice it wasn’t a typical kid’s show.

“Do you know the King of Curses?” he asked, looking up at you.

-

“I can’t think of a fucking username that isn’t corny!” Sukuna pouted, crossing his arms in frustration. You laughed, watching him struggle.

You’d been waiting for ten minutes for Sukuna to pick a name, but all he’d been doing was muttering swear words under his breath. 

“Geez, chill. Maybe you should go for something like ‘The King of Curses’ since you won’t stop being a potty mouth.” you suggested, a teasing glint in your eye.

Initially, he was disgusted by your suggestion, thinking it was surely a joke. But, moments later, you saw him typing the username you picked out, almost subconsciously.

“You seriously went with it?” you scoffed.

He shrugged. “It may be shit, but it’s pretty iconic if you ask me. Makes me sound feared or something.”

“You’re so cringe.”

“Shut up, at least we can start now.”

-

You laughed at the memory and turned to the kid. “It’s probably some weird CounterStrike username an edgy teen would come up with.” You said, a nostalgic smile on your face. Still, how in the world would that kid know about that specific username?

The boy's eyebrows knitted in confusion. “My dad trains him. He’s a really great mixed martial artist.”

He played a YouTube video for you, and you were amazed. The commentator excitedly pointed out the undefeated champion, known as "The King of Curses", as he dominated the ring with a fierce appearance on the screen.

The camera focused on the fighter's face, leaving no room for doubt. It was Sukuna. The same fierce protector from your childhood, now grown up and living up to the formidable name you had jokingly given him.

In the video, Sukuna was positioned in the middle of the octagon with tight muscles and concentrated eyes. When the bell sounded, his opponent rushed towards him with a barrage of punches. Sukuna smoothly avoided every attack, his actions appearing almost too fast to see. He responded with a quick punch to the ribs, then delivered a strong uppercut that made his opponent stagger backwards.

Sukuna's expression remained calm, almost bored, as he advanced. His opponent attempted to regain balance by launching a frantic kick, but Sukuna intercepted his leg in mid-air and turned it, causing the man to fall hard on the mat. The crowd burst into applause, but Sukuna was not finished. He dropped to the ground, pinning his opponent with a series of brutal elbows and punches.

The referee moved in to stop the fight, but Sukuna was already standing, raising his arms in victory. His chest heaved with controlled breaths, and he flashed a confident smirk at the camera, the tattoos on his body adding to his intimidating presence.

It cut to a post-match interview where Sukuna, still glistening with sweat, spoke with a quiet intensity. "My advice to achieve such greatness? Uhh, git gud.'"

Classic Sukuna.

Your heart pounded as the realization set in. Sukuna, the boy who used to defend you on the playground, had become a renowned MMA fighter, known worldwide by the very name you had suggested in jest. The world had changed so much since you last saw him, and yet here he was, still fighting.

The boy continued watching the video, oblivious to your internal turmoil. You couldn't help but feel a mix of pride and disbelief. Sukuna had come so far, and you wondered if he ever thought about the past, about you.

"'Ryo..."

The boy glanced at you and thought, "Damn, this woman's got a crush on him already, like every girl on TikTok."

The man returned, thanking you for watching his son. You nodded absently, still reeling from the revelation. As you left the 7/11 with your now cold ramen, your mind buzzed with possibilities. Would he still remember you? Would you be able to reconnect again?

-

The kid tugged his dad's arm. “Dad.”

“Yes, Megumi?” the man responded.

“Can't believe that lady didn’t know who you were, neither did she know Ryomen Sukuna!”

The man could tell; you didn’t seem astounded to see him at all.

“She looks oddly familiar though.” the man muttered to himself. "Gumi, let's visit him."

-

Returning hastily to your apartment, the image of Sukuna's video was still fresh in your mind, the flickering fluorescent lights of the 7/11 lingering behind you. Your heart beat fast with a mix of excitement and nervousness as you struggled with your keys to unlock the door, eventually managing to push it open and enter the dimly lit living room of your cozy apartment.

The view you saw was anything but reassuring. Shoko was in the kitchen, glaring at the untouched vegetables sitting forlornly on the counter

"Where were you?" she asked, concerned.

You gave a nervous chuckle, still processing the shock of the day. “I went to 7/11.”

Shoko sighed and shook her head, her expression softening just a little. “You need real food, not just instant ramen. Ugh, whatever.” She threw her hands up in resignation and turned toward her bedroom. “I’m heading to bed early. You should do the same.”

"You eaten yet though, Shoko?"

She sighs and nods, "Of course I did."

As she started to walk away, you hesitated for a moment before calling out, “Hey, Shoko?”

She stopped in her tracks, turning to look at you with a weary but curious expression. “What?”

“Do you know how I could catch up with an old friend I haven’t seen for a long time?” you asked, trying to sound casual but unable to hide the hope in your voice.

Shoko raised an eyebrow, her interest piqued. “How long are we talking about?”

“About six years.” you said, your fingers nervously fidgeting with the edge of your ramen cup.

Shoko considered this for a moment, her gaze thoughtful. “What are they like?”

You took a deep breath, your mind drifting back to memories of Sukuna. 

“Well, he was strong—”

You remember him at the young age of 10, standing in the center of the playground, his muscles tensed as he faced a group of older kids. “You think you’re tough enough to handle me?” he taunted, his voice brimming with cocky confidence. “Bring it on!”

You watched from a distance, your heart pounding as Sukuna stepped into the fray, his bravado as palpable as his physical strength.

“He was brave—”

You remember Sukuna during your preteen years standing in front of you, his eyes fierce as he glared down at the jerks who had been tormenting you. “You stay behind me." he said firmly, his voice carrying a promise of protection. “I’ll handle this.”

You clung to his shirt as he faced the bullies, the sight of him standing tall against the odds a comforting shield.

“And reckless—”

You remember him as a middle schooler throwing himself into a scuffle with a group of older kids, not caring about the bruises or scrapes he might get. “What are you doing?!” you shouted, desperate to stop him from getting hurt. “You’ll get hurt!”

Sukuna’s eyes glinted with reckless excitement as he punched the air, ignoring your pleas.

“But he was also gentle sometimes.” you continued, a nostalgic smile forming on your lips.

After a particularly rough fight, Sukuna sat beside you, his face uncharacteristically soft as he checked the scratches on your arms. “You okay?” he asked, his voice gentle and full of concern. “Don’t let those fuckers get to you.”

"Now, it's pretty tough. I just found out today that he's gotten famous. Do you know Ryomen Su-"

“RYOMEN SUKUNA?!?” Shoko interrupted suddenly, her eyes widening in disbelief.

You nodded, trying to keep your tone steady. “Yeah, Ryomen Sukuna.”

Shoko stared at you, her mouth slightly open in shock. “Nah, nah, there is NO way you could possibly be connected to THAT man.”

She shook her head vigorously, as if trying to clear away the absurdity of the idea. “You’re telling me you knew Sukuna, the MMA fighter? The King of Curses?”

You nodded again, trying to suppress the excitement bubbling inside you. “Yeah, that’s the one.”

Shoko’s eyes darted between you and the kitchen, her skepticism palpable. “How in the world did you end up knowing someone like him?!? And why didn’t you mention it before?”

“It’s a long story. But I saw him today in a video, and it brought back a lot of memories.”

Shoko stared at you, her mouth slightly open in shock. “GIRL, YOU DON’T EVEN USE INSTAGRAM! OR TWITTER. OR FACEBOOK OR WHATEVER. HOW IN THE HECK—” She threw her hands up in exasperation. “Make one, quick! I’m going to bed now.”

You looked at her, a bit taken aback by her sudden urgency. “Wait, what? You think I should—”

“Yes!” Shoko said, her tone brooking no argument. “If you want to reach him, you need to have social media. He’s famous! You have to at least try to find a way to contact him through those channels. I’m heading to bed. Figure it out and come to bed soon!”

Dismissing you with a wave of her hand, she walked towards her bedroom, leaving you standing by yourself.

You walked to the bathroom, feeling the cool tiles underfoot in contrast to the warmth in your mind. You opened the tap and allowed the water to flow, filling the small, echoing room with the sound of splashing and dripping. You gazed at your own reflection in the mirror, revealing only weariness. Seeing your eyes and disheveled hair was a clear indication of the significance this held for you.

Entering the bathtub, you switched on the hot water and adjusted the temperature until it was perfect. Steam started rising, surrounding you in a comforting mist while you relaxed in the cozy hug of the bath. You rested against the ceramic surface, allowing the water to surround you while shutting your eyes and attempting to relax your thoughts.

"What kind of username would stick out to Sukuna? 

It was more challenging than you had anticipated. The inside jokes, the shared moments, and the personal history you had with Sukuna were so specific that they felt like private treasures. What could possibly represent those moments in a way that would be instantly recognizable to him?

You thought back to the times you spent together—times filled with laughter, arguments, and deep conversations. There were so many small, meaningful memories wrapped up in personal jokes and secret codes that no one else would understand.

You recalled the times you both laughed about ridiculous ideas, the games you played, and the silly names you created. You tried to think of a name that would be both nostalgic and significant, something that would make Sukuna think of you and those days.

"How about something from high school?" you mused, but nothing seemed to fit. Everything you came up with felt either too cheesy or too vague. You wanted something that would spark recognition and memories, but the perfect idea remained just out of reach.

You let yourself relax in the tub for a few minutes, hoping that the warmth of the water and the calm of the moment would help you come up with a brilliant idea. The steam swirled around you, and you let your thoughts drift, trying to tap into the memories of those carefree days.

As the water continued to gently lap against you, you thought about how those inside jokes had shaped your relationship, but how they might not resonate in the same way now. ------

Sweat trickled down Sukuna’s forehead as he leaned forward, his eyes never leaving focus. "You think you can take me down, brat?” he growled, his voice low and menacing.

“You’re going down, old man!” 

The room had a faint light, coming from the flickering TV screen and the gentle glow of the gaming console. Tension filled the air, the type that mounts before a pivotal fight. The air was filled with the sound of quick button presses and deep focus, occasionally interrupted by grunts of exertion.

Sukuna sat amidst the storm of focus and intensity, his brows furrowed in concentration while tightly gripping the controller. Facing him was his nephew Yuuji, a young and bubbly kid, matching his focus as his hands swiftly pressed the buttons.

The screen displayed the high-octane action of Tekken, the characters on the screen exchanging powerful blows and executing complex combos. Sukuna’s character, a hulking fighter, faced off against Yuuji’s agile and swift opponent. The battle was fierce, strikes and counters met with a flurry of button presses and strategic maneuvers.

But Yuuji was ready. With a triumphant shout, he dodged the attack and delivered a final, decisive blow. Sukuna’s character crumpled to the ground, defeated.

"K.O!"

For a moment, the room was silent. Sukuna stared at the screen in disbelief, his mouth hanging open. Then, with a dramatic wail, he exclaimed, “Nooo, Yuuji! You can’t do this to me, you brat!”

Yuuji burst into laughter, his victory dance full of exaggerated moves. “I told you I’d win, Uncle Kuna!”

Sukuna, unable to keep up the act, broke into a grin. “You little rascal,” he said, reaching over and playfully grabbing Yuuji. He pulled his nephew close and started tickling him mercilessly. “Take that! And that!”

Yuuji squirmed and laughed, trying to escape Sukuna’s grasp. “Stop, Uncle! STOP! I can’t- CAn'T! CAN'T BREAtHE!

Sukuna finally relented, letting Yuuji go and ruffling his hair affectionately. “Alright, alright, you win this time. But don’t think I’m going easy on you next time.”

Yuuji beamed, still catching his breath. “You’re just saying that because you don’t want to lose again!”

Sukuna laughed, the sound echoing warmly through the room. “Maybe. But you’d better keep practicing, kiddo. I won’t be this easy to beat forever.”

The room’s playful atmosphere was abruptly interrupted by the sound of a knock at the door. Sukuna’s assistant, a composed and efficient individual, stepped in, their voice calm yet insistent.

“Sir Sukuna,” the assistant called, their tone carrying an air of urgency. The sudden formality of the address cut through the laughter of the pink-haired duo, drawing both sets of eyes toward the door. “Toji Fushiguro and Megumi Fushiguro are here.”

Sukuna’s expression shifted from playful to one of seriousness. He scoffed, pushing himself up from his seat. “Took them long enough.” he muttered under his breath. Turning to Yuuji, he ruffled the boy’s hair one last time. “You play with Megumi, ‘kay? Me and Toji are just gonna chat.”

Yuuji nodded eagerly, already looking forward to spending time with his friend. As Sukuna’s assistant led Yuuji toward the play area, Toji and his son, Megumi, were ushered in. Toji, a formidable man with a rugged demeanor, walked in with his usual air of confidence. His son, Megumi, followed closely, his eyes sharp and observant despite his young age.

Sukuna stood in the center of the room, his presence commanding and authoritative. He greeted them with a nod, his assistant closing the door behind them. "Took you some time to get here." "Had to drop something off to my wife." “Come in,” he said, his voice carrying a weight that left no room for casual conversation.

Toji’s expression was serious as he stepped forward, his eyes meeting Sukuna’s with a sense of purpose. “Three things, Sukuna. We need to talk.”

Sukuna’s eyes narrowed slightly, his curiosity piqued. “Alright.” he said, motioning for Toji to continue. “What’s on your mind?”

Taglist: (tell me if i forgot to add you)

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Ask under this post or any of the chapters I'll release if you want to be added. I would be posting polls or asking readers about certain things sometimes that would possibly affect the story in a minor way so stay tuned. :)

[da-mous]

My mother gave birth to me on a canoe that she would spend every day rowing upstream. I grew up in that canoe, watching her row day and night

My mother never slept, but I didn't realize that was unusual. I grew up only knowing her as this woman who rowed tirelessly to keep us moving. Because she loved me, presumably

When I turned 10, however, my mother fell asleep, and for the first time in my life the canoe was moving downstream. I hadn't known she could fall asleep, or that our canoe could fall downstream. I thought maybe she must not love me anymore, so I did what I had to

With my little 10-year-old arms, I grabbed the oars and I rowed, the same way I'd seen her do it. When sleep came for me I just told it no, and I kept rowing, the way my mother had done for me

I rowed sleeplessly for 10 years, until my mother awoke. She motioned for me to row us to the side of the river, and so I did

My mother gave me a look that maybe had love somewhere in it, and then she disappeared into the woods. I never saw her again

I continued to row, a new yet familiar loneliness surrounding me

Eventually, a woman came to the riverside. I pulled the boat over to meet her, and immediately she was looking at my face with adoration and curiosity. She could see the earnestness in my eyes, and she could see all 10 years of sleepless nights on my face. She climbed into my canoe and took the oars and started rowing

Over the next several months, we would take turns rowing our canoe. I would catch up on my sleep and then wake up to take the oars from her, and then she would do the same in turn

As time passed, I began to indulge more and more in my sleep. At first it felt unfair to my partner, but she assured me I had every right to catch up on sleep I spent 10 years missing. She would take over

As the months wore on, I would sleep more and more and take the oars less and less. I felt guilty about it still, but the guilt got smaller and smaller, until it almost wasn't there

I woke up one morning and she was gone. I wasn't sure how long I'd been out this time, or how far back the boat had floated, but she was gone. The last thing I could remember of her was her loving face looking tired, her voice telling me it was ok

I rowed alone again. It took some time to regain my strength after giving my arms a rest, but I was rowing alone again

It had been too easy, I thought, to dismiss the weight of these oars, to let a loved one bear them for me like it was some small gesture. With each stroke of the oars, I gained a newfound appreciation for their weight, and yet they became easier to move as I got stronger

The hole she left in my heart ached. If someone ever were to fill this hole again, I resolved that I would row our canoe just as much as they did

[sillyuin]

The ghost of you. (Part 1).

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

Genre: angst.

Pairing: Mingyu x reader.

Warnings: Break up.

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

You disappeared like a faint ghost.

Mingyu had started to forget you and that scared him.

Every day he woke up in the room where you used to share happy and sad moments. There was no longer the sound of your voice wishing him a good day, giving him a kiss before getting out of bed.

Your small office was empty, there were no longer any camera lenses on the shelf, memory cards on the desk, nor a bunch of candy wrappers in the trash, and the curtains were always closed.

He walked the same streets you used to walk together, hoping to see your back or catch the scent of the floral perfume he liked so much, but the days went by, and there wasn't a trace of you.

From time to time, Mingyu would sit on the couch with the phone in hand, his hesitant finger unable to press your name on the screen. He had already sent several messages, but none received a response, and none of his calls were answered.

One night he entered your office, opened the curtains and from there he saw the starry sky, the view was simply bright and majestic. "That's why you liked being here so much," he said to himself, taking a seat in the desk chair. "You had front row seats... And I never came to join you..."

Until now, he hadn't had the courage to check the desk drawers, and that night he decided to do it; you had taken almost everything except for a memory card at the bottom of the last drawer. With much curiosity and fear, he inserted it into his laptop to see what was inside.

As he went through the stored photos, Mingyu felt a mix of happiness and nostalgia that turned into a silent sob. The album was full of pictures of the two of you, from outings and parties, random sessions in gardens or inside the apartment. He found it hard to believe how distant those happy moments felt compared to the reality he was living now.

Setting the laptop aside, he lay down on the couch and rested his head where you used to sit. "I miss you," he closed his eyes, burying his face in one of the cushions. "Where have you gone?"

The sun was setting and the wind started to blow gently. You were heading home while thinking about what you were going to make for dinner, and without realizing it you took a different path. It wasn't a loss since it was a very pretty street with some interesting shops; however, there was a place you had paid little attention to until that day.

"There was an art exhibit, and I didn't know," you lamented to yourself. You were in the front door of a small gallery and outside it, there was a sign with information about the presentation. After reading everything, you glanced down at your wristwatch. "One hour remain… That’s enough for me."

There weren't many people left except for a few older gentlemen, and some students that probably were heading home from school. The place was spacious, with beautiful paintings exhibited on the walls. Some were well-crafted and others were quite simple, but all had their own charm. There were also a few sculptures, and you took the opportunity to photograph some that seemed quite creative to you.

You moved on to another room and there was a rather curious painting: three small canvases side by side, the background was white, and a red ribbon crossed them by the middle. You stood for a few seconds appreciating it in silence, then looked down at a plaque with some words.

"The Red Thread of Fate," you read softly, "...", but you couldn’t say the artist’s name.

"You know the legend, don't you?" said a voice from behind and as you slowly turned, he was staring there. After so much time avoiding him, Mingyu ended up finding you in the most unexpected way possible, or so you thought. "Hi, y/n," he pressed his lips together a bit and crossed his arms. "I hadn't seen you, have you been here long?"

"No, I just arrived," you turned to one side, trying to locate the exit. "But I was just leaving, so..."

"Wait!" His voice made you stop suddenly. "Sorry, do you have a few minutes?"

You didn't want to, you didn't feel like being there another second nor talking to him, but you took a step towards to face him, although your fidgety hands said otherwise. "What do you want?"

"I..." Mingyu sighed. "I just want to listen to you, that's all."

"Now you want to listen to me?"

"No, wait, I can explain..."

"Explain what?"

Your severe tone made him remain silent, as if he were afraid that by saying something, you would leave without turning around. The atmosphere was tense, very tense, and the fact that no one dared to peek into the room only made him even more nervous. Still, he made it to say something.

"Nothing I said that day was true," Mingyu confessed, his voice quite confidence. "I hurt you deeply, and I'm sorry for everything, you didn’t deserve that."

"You left me alone," you stammered. "You said horrible things and then left. Do you know how long I waited for you to come home?"

"I know it was a long time, I..."

"Until dawn," you interrupted, taking another step closer. "I ran away and took a bus at 3 am, because you never came."

"Honestly, I-I don't know what was going through..."

"Are you going to listen to me or not?"

Mingyu shrugged, tortured by all the words held at the tip of his tongue. He took a deep breath and nodded nervously.

"You left me alone," you repeated, your voice sounding fragile as if it might break at any moment. "I asked for your help many times, I told you I was very nervous about leaving my job, and when I decided to quit, you didn't support me."

"I was scared, okay? I was… Scared."

"I was the one who quit a stable job to pursue my dream of photography... But you were the one who was scared?" You looked away for a moment to calm yourself down, although that didn't help much. "I don't understand, what were you scared of!? Tell me!"

Mingyu was downcast, and after a few seconds of no responding, he murmured. "I thought you would go far away..."

" There are many jobs, but only one Kim Mingyu." As you said it, he raised his gaze to meet yours, thick tears were stuck at the corner of your eyes. "I wanted to live my dream by your side… And I still want to."

In the silence of the room, the only thing heard was Mingyu's faint voice apologizing repeatedly. Then you approached him and gently took his face in your hands, kissing his cheeks again and again despite the tears that ran down them.

You approached him and gently took his face in your hands, kissing his cheeks again and again. His tears were honest and very painful, almost as much as yours, but it didn't matter. All you wanted to do was hold him like you used to, before becoming a memory lost in the pictures.

[steddieasitgoes]

Eddie is a rockstar at the Grammys and Steve is a clueless seat filler who sits next to him.

Walking around campus, Robin stumbles across a flyer encouraging people to apply to be seat fillers for the award season set to begin in Los Angeles. Robin brings it home to Steve and the two jokingly apply. They think nothing of it until three weeks before the Grammy Awards when they are sent a long email full of rules and NDAs for them to sign. At this point Steve tries to back out but Robin won’t let him -- promising that it’ll be fun and if it’s not he can take her to a basketball game of his choosing and she won’t complain once. 

Fast-forward to the event and it’s not as glamorous as Robin was expecting. They’re not allowed to talk to any of the celebrities they sit next to and most of the time they’re standing out in the hall waiting for someone to leave their seat. 

It’s a whole lot of waiting until 1/3 of the way into the broadcast when the artists start getting antsy and begin to mingle at the lobby bar. Robin gets sent out on seat filler business first and get shuffled around a few times before she winds up in the back of the line of fillers in the hallway. When another seat is vacated, she pushes Steve to the front since he hasn’t seen any of the show yet -- too busy letting others go in front of him because they are all more excited than him. 

The coordinator escorts him to a row near the back of the celebrity section and instructs him to sit in the seat next to a gorgeous long-haired men with the most beautiful brown eyes Steve’s ever seen. The man in question smiles and nods his head in acknowledgment before turning back to the conversation he was having with his seat mate. 

Several minutes pass and Steve waits for the coordinator to come get him but no one does. During the next commercial break, the gorgeous man turns and starts chatting with him. Steve knows he’s not allowed to talk to the talent, but he doesn’t recognize the guy so he figures he must be another seat filler. The guy’s not dressed in a suit like the rest of the celebrities and he’s all the way in the back of the section so he figures he must not be someone important. They spend the next three commercial breaks mindlessly chatting about the acts and Steve learns this guy is really passionate about music. 

If he’s honest, he’s sort of smitten with this dude and he doesn’t even know his name. He tells himself at the next commercial break he’s going to ask what his name is and spends the next several minutes brainstorming how to casually bring it up. 

All of it is for not, though, because suddenly the Grammy Award for Best Metal Performance is being announced and there’s a camera next to Steve pointed directly on the beautiful man beside him. The nominees are read and the beautiful man smiles bashfully at the camera when “Chrissy Song” Lyrics by Eddie Munson, performed by Corroded Coffin is announced. And then he’s leaping to his feet when the song wins and Steve watches in stunned silence as the beautiful man (aka Eddie Munson) graciously pats him on the shoulder before scooting past him to accept his Grammy Award. 

Steve feels embarrassed and tries to run for the hills -- surely he should have known who this Eddie guy was and yet all of that disappears when Eddie makes some comment about this being the best night of his life -- not just because he won a fucking Grammy but also because his manager is MIA leaving him sitting next to the cutest seat filler of all time. 

(Robin shouts at Steve for three whole days when they get back to their apartment and they watch the recorded broadcast. The shouting stops on day four, but starts back up on day five when she receives an email from the coordinator asking for Steve’s contact information. 

Eddie calls him half an hour later.) 

[httpiastri]

JACKIE I AM UNWELL RN !!!

can we talk about how soft paul would be when he just wakes up?:(

imagine you wake up first and you go to the bathroom to wash your face and do all the things you need, a little distracted and lost in thought so you didn't realise when Paul got in ??!? his big arms around your waist:((( asking you why you're not in bed with him, his voice all sleepy and his curls all messy but so beautiful and he'd definitely start giving you lazy kisses on your neck and shoulder bc he wants all your attention and you're just there melting at every little thing he does 🫠

:(( paul :(((( you're out here doing god's work angie, loved this idea so much 😭

– paul is a heavy sleeper me thinks. i see him as someone who is pretty hard to wake up (he'll have to have several loud alarms in a row if he's sleeping alone just to make sure he actually does wake up lol), and who always dozes off again if there's a chance. he'll wake up, say just a few words but keep his eyes shut, and then fall asleep again, and you'll be wondering if he ever even woke up in the first place or if he just talked in his sleep 😭 thoughhh if he fell asleep next to you, and you're suddenly not there, then he'll subconsciously know that something is wrong and he'll wake up much quicker than usual

– oh and he's a cuddler in his sleep, 100%. if he's got you in his arms when you fall asleep, you won't be able to break free. if you go into bed after he's already fallen asleep, you'll still find yourself in his arms when you wake up. he loves to bury his face in your hair or in your skin. or if it's been a rough day/week or if he's just missed you a lot, you can expect to have him rest on top of you, head propped up on your chest as he holds one of your hands 🥺

– i think he might be a light snorer…. i just get that feeling? idk? not so much that it bothers you, but you just find it cute and coo over it :(

– overall, i think sleepy mornings with him would be so so cute. the softest, cutest and most pure version of him and he's all yours? you're so lucky 🫶

oh and i felt like writing just a little little blurb…… sorry not sorry 🤭

it's always hard to leave paul behind in bed, but not only because of his tight embrace around your body; it's almost painful to roll out of bed when the person you leave behind is him.

him and that sweet pout on his lips, the messy bed hair practically screaming at you to come brush your fingers through it, those rosy cheeks that you wish you could forever hold in your hands…

i'll be quick, you tell yourself, tiptoeing into the bathroom and quietly closing the door behind you. you hurry to brush your teeth, wash your face and do all of your other routines, but when you wipe the water off your face with a towel, you don't hear the door opening again. instead, the only sound that fills the room is your own squeal when you feel a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist.

"paul!" you whine, dropping the towel and giving his forearm a smack. "christ, you really scared me!"

he only hums as a response, and it just frustrates you even more – but then, all of your anger disappears when you take in the sight in the mirror.

his chin is propped up on your shoulder, eyes shut and body bending down to meet your height. the feeling of his warm breath and bare chest against your skin sends a shiver down your spine, and the way he leans his head against yours makes you pout subconsciously.

"come back to bed," he mumbles, words slurred as he nuzzles his nose into the crook of your neck.

"in just a minute," you lean forward slightly to grab a moisturizer out of your cabinet, the action triggering a groan to rumble from his chest. "i just have a few more things to do…"

he lets out a dismissive sound, shaking his head into your skin. "no, i want to go back now."

"you go back, then. i'll be right there." you twist off the lid off, taking some of the moisturizer onto your hands and massaging it into your skin. paul doesn't budge, though; he stays put, his hold around you tightening even further.

after a few seconds, his eyes slowly open and he lifts his head from you. the lack of contact immediately disappoints you, but just seconds later it's been replaced by his lips.

his kisses start behind your ear, slowly tracing down the side of you neck, not leaving even a single inch of skin unkissed. when he reaches your bare shoulder, his hands also begin to roam around your body and you can't help but squirm. "please, paul. that tickles," you say, doing your best to pretend like you don't love every second of it – but he can read you like the back of his hand. there's no way he'll stop now.

you leave your bottle without its lid on top of the sink, not caring anymore. he won.

"okay, oka–"

you don't even get to finish your word, because less than a second later, he's already pulled you back into bed and flopped down on top of you. "cuddle me, please?"

and how could you ever say no to him when he asks so nicely?

[littlegrapejuice]

Playing The Long Game | LS2

Pairing: Logan Sargeant x Reader

Summary: You've had your fair share of romantic experiences, not all successful. Logan was always there to comfort you, and he's still here years later when you realise that there might be more to your friendship.

Author's Note: ok so my og plan was to write ab lando but @babyunickorn suggested "boy next door/childhood friend logan" in my coms and suddenly my brain became so inspired the idea so here it is🤗

He had witnessed them all.

Your first crush in kindergarten who had picked out a flower for you one day – turned out that he had actually given one to every girl in the class which you learnt the following day.

Your first boyfriend in middle school with whom you’d had your first kiss – it wasn’t that bad per say but you didn’t have any other experience to compare it with at the time.

Your actual first love in high school. He wasn’t like the other popular guys. He knew a lot of people and was an extrovert, but he only had a few close friends that could be counted on one hand. You got along well with him but didn’t pay much attention to him since you didn’t have many common interests. But during your senior year of high school, you two ended up in a class together.

It was the usual cliché story: pairing up for a project, spending time together outside of school – more talking than studying. And when the project was over, he told you he wanted to keep spending time with you. So he asked you out, and you said yes. The next few months were actual bliss. Compared to your first boyfriend – if you could even qualify him as one, this one was sweet and caring. He made you laugh and knew which words you needed to hear – wanted to hear.

He once told you he was falling in love with you fell in love with you, which you believed. And knowing his feelings, it made you fall in love too in the process. You didn’t have any reason not to: he took you out during the weekends, paid for your drinks, and you were facetiming almost every night to talk about your days.

Days that you didn’t spend together.

And that’s when you started having doubts.

Sure, you weren’t in the same class and only had one subject together. However, you were in the same high school and had similar timetables. Did you see him during the day? Yes, sometimes. Did you talk to him? Never. Not like you had never tried: if he was alone or with a couple people you knew, you would go up to him and chat a bit. But every time you were getting a bit too close, he was subtly backing away. You hadn’t noticed at first – or you did and just thought him shy regarding PDA – but then it became more obvious.

Not even glancing at you when you’d pass each other in the hallways. Not returning your waves, nor your gentle smiles. But you put up with it. Because at the end of the day, he would always send you a text, offering to facetime.

Then it got worse.

The texts were scarce and dry. The calls now non-existent. And during one weekend, you had enough after he had ignored you and left you on delivered for several days in a row. So you confronted him when school started again. You had a long talk with him during which he admitted his mistakes. You were ready to accept his apologies until you realised what he was apologising for in the process: he was saying sorry for the past, but also for the future.

He was breaking up with you.

You should’ve known. You didn’t want to know. But it all made sense now. You don’t think you even kept listening after you realised what was happening. He was babbling about things you didn’t want to pay attention to anymore. Half of it was along the lines of “it’s not you, it’s me” and yes, it was all him – that you could agree on. You had been the perfect girlfriend, as perfect as one can be when in love. But he was the one who didn’t love you enough.

Technically, he hadn’t lied about his feelings. They just disappeared as quickly as they appeared. Maybe he’d had an idea of you that didn’t prove itself to be right when he went from having a crush on you to dating you. But you didn’t care at this point, you were just hurt. You could only nod at what he was saying. Your only thoughts were to go home and cry yourself to sleep. That was a good plan. 

When you got home though, someone was waiting for you in your room.

Logan.

You had forgotten he had texted you earlier in the day to say he needed your help with homework. But when he saw you walk through the door, any concern about school was quickly discarded and his only reaction was to go hug you as he noticed your red eyes, not yet dry. He immediately knew you’d been crying and the reason why was clear to him.

Nevertheless, he never asked. He wondered obviously, but never questioned you about the details as he easily guessed what had happened.

It took you a couple weeks before you told him the full story. There wasn’t much to say to be honest, but still, he listened. He comforted you and did his best to make you forget.

He was there for you. He had always been there for you.

But you had never noticed him. Never truly noticed him. Not like he saw you. Not like he loved you.

So why now, were you looking at him with such softness in your eyes? Why now, was his smile the most beautiful one in the room? Why now, was your only wish to be close to him and never leave his side?

You were starting to get confused by your own feelings. You didn’t know why suddenly, your gaze kept drifting back to Logan – who was across the room talking with Oscar – when Lando was being a perfect gentleman to you.

“You know, I won’t get hurt if you go to him.”

You were surprised to hear Lando’s voice. You shouldn’t be, you had been conversing with him for the past half hour so it wasn’t weird for him to still talk to you now.

“What?”

“Logan,” Lando replied as if it was obvious. “You’re acting like a high school girl too afraid to go up to her crush right now.”

“I’m not afraid to go talk to Logan”, you mumbled.

“So you’re not denying the crush?” Lando raised an eyebrow at you.

“I– I don’t know…” You were still confused about what was going on in your brain. “It’s complicated.”

“It’s not though.”

“Why would you say that?”

“He likes you, you obviously like him back after so long so go make out or something I don’t know.” Lando shrugged before taking a sip of his drink.

“After so long?” You repeated.

“Yeah. I swear I shouldn’t have befriended Oscar because he came as a package with Logan and I had no choice but to hear about you for like– months before I even met you?”

You had no words. Logan liked you? You don’t know why you never connected the dots but it kinda made sense. Well, everything made sense actually: the support he offered you, the friendship he never gave up on even when he was thousands of miles away from home after his motosports career took off, the letters, the late-night calls, the random visits back home whenever he had a few days off.

“So?” Lando interrupted your thoughts again.

“So what?” You wondered.

“Are you gonna talk to him and confess and then maybe he’ll stop torturing Oscar and I?”

“Oh… Hmm, yeah, yeah…”

“Good, because he’s walking towards us.”

“Excuse me? Right now?”

“Yep”, Lando replied with a grin. “Good luck, name your firstborn after me please.”

“Lando, wait–”

You barely had time to turn to the direction where the British had gone off that Logan was appearing in your field of vision.

“Logan, hi!”

“Hey,” he replied with his signature smile that you loved so much and wished it never left his face. “Everything good? We haven’t talked a lot tonight.”

“All good yes,” you nodded. “That’s true, yeah… But we’re together now so we can chat a bit.”

“I’d like that indeed.”

“You wanna go outside?” You asked Logan, who agreed and led you both to the nearest balcony.

As soon as you stepped outside, you already felt lighter thanks to the nice evening breeze. However, it didn’t last long. Although comfortable, the silence felt heavy to you as you debated about how to start a conversation - the conversation. It had to be tonight. Now that you had somehow realised your feelings for your closest friend, you didn’t think you would be able to keep it a secret for long so your only choice was to get it out as soon as possible.

“I have something to tell you”, you simply stated. Your tone was serious enough that Logan understood it was important. His gaze on you showed you that he was giving you all his attention, but you actually felt overwhelmed by it. “Hmm… Well, I–” Your determination was disappearing extremely quickly; and for a second, you thought about going inside to get a drink that could act as ‘liquid courage’.

“I can talk if you want”, Logan offered. “I kinda have something to tell you too, which I hope is related to what you want to say.”

“Really?” Your voice was suddenly high-pitched as your stress was through the roof. Did he realise so easily what your intentions were? It wouldn’t surprise you now – Logan was smart and observant, especially when it came to you. So you nodded. “Go ahead, yeah…”

“I’m not gonna beat around the bush: I like you,” he confessed with a stoic face. “If I’m being real, I actually love you – I’ve done so for a while, several years I guess. And I hope you do too or else this is gonna be extremely awkward.”

“Y–yeah I do too,” you stuttered as you were too shocked by the revelation. Lando telling you was one thing that you already had a hard time believing, but Logan confirming it felt even crazier. You cleared your throat before speaking up. “I like you too Logan,” you said with more conviction. “Sorry it took me so long to notice, I’m still coming to terms with that myself.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry.” And there it was again, the smile that you cherished. “I would’ve waited forever if needed.”

“Seems like a lot”, you chuckled as a way to seem less nervous.

“Anything for you”, Logan simply replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world for him.

You hadn’t noticed as you had mostly kept your gaze on your hands, but as you finally looked up to face Logan, you realised how close he was to you. You couldn’t help the blush on your cheeks, your face heating up as you felt Logan’s hand brushing against yours. If you’d looked closely, he was blushing too, but your gaze could only focus on how beautiful his eyes looked under the moonlight.

Your name rolled off his tongue as he tried to catch your attention. Your eyes quickly glanced down to his lips before coming back up to his eyes as a way to show that you were listening.

“Is it okay if I kiss you?” He softly asked, almost whispering by fear of ruining the moment.

“I don’t think I want anything else as much as that right now”, you replied with your voice as low as his.

So he obliged, and closed the gap between you. This wasn’t what you’d expected. Sure you’d thought about kissing Logan a couple times – you thought about kissing Logan before? – but this was even better than any other kiss you’d experienced. Way better than your first one, that’s for sure. Because the feelings were here, and they were strong.

And it wasn’t only romantic love that linked the both of you, but platonic love as well. All those years of friendship weren’t meaningless. There was a deep bond between Logan and you, which nothing could ever sever. And when you both pulled away after the kiss, this mixed love could be felt all around you. The joys you’d experienced together, the pains, the highs, the lows, and everything in between.

“Damn, okay…” you sighed as you rested your forehead on Logan’s shoulder.

“Good ‘damn’ or bad ‘damn’?”

“Definitely good”, you replied with a light laugh which made him smile. You could feel Logan’s thumb stroking your hip, making you blush as you thought about how intimate the gesture felt.

“I’m glad then.”

This time, the comfortable silence that settled between you was peaceful for the both of you. But as you thought about your conversation before – well… this, you realised you needed to clarify something.

“Wanna know a secret?”

“From you? Sure.”

“I love you actually”, you confessed. “Not just like, but love.”

“That’s good to know”, he answered. “Wanna know a secret of mine now?”

“Of course I do.”

“It’s more than love for me, like– I’m in love with you.”

“Oh…”

‘Oh’? This wasn’t the reaction Logan had expected as he could feel you freeze in his arms. You slowly backed away – your hands still resting on his chest nevertheless – and looked up to face him.

“You’re sure about that?”

“I– well, yeah?” Logan was confused. Was he sure of his feelings? What kind of question was that? He’d had many doubts in his life, but how he felt about you had never been one.

“Like– sure sure?” You stressed the word to emphasise your question. “You’re not just saying that because we just kissed, and it’s overwhelming, and it might just confuse your judgement so maybe you didn’t actually fall in love but you just love me, with basic love feelings. Don’t feel obligated to say that right now because we’re in the heat of the moment”

Logan was even more confused now as you kept rambling about how he could be mistaken about his own feelings and that maybe he should reconsider and give it a second thought to be certain of how deep his feelings for you were. But then, it clicked as your explanation felt familiar, reminding him of something that happened several years ago.

“Wait– is this about him?”

"I-” You were caught off-guard as you didn’t expect Logan to make the connection so quickly. “I don’t know, maybe…” you replied, looking a bit embarrassed. “Sorry, I'm making things awkward now…”

“It's fine, don't worry. I don't think I actually mind.”

“Really?” You asked, surprised at his words.

“Yeah, I guess…” He tried to find the right phrasing for his thoughts before speaking again. “He's in the past and I'm the one with you right now. And if I ever do something wrong that he did, then I'd like to know so I can try to not repeat it. And if he did something right that I never end up doing for you, then I'd like to know as well so eventually I can do this same thing too. Because even though it didn't last between you, he made you happy for a while and I could never disregard that. But”, he stressed the word to catch your attention. “I know my feelings best, so when I say I’m in love with you: I’m. In. Love. With. You. okay?”

“Understood, yes.”

“I’m glad that we’re on the same page then,” Logan concluded with a smile.

“Still, I’m sorry I never noticed either of our feelings earlier. This could’ve happened sooner”, you assumed.

“Probably not.”

“Why?” You wondered.

“Well, my feelings started developing when I was comforting you and realised you deserved better,” he explained. “I could give you what you deserved, but I just never made a move back then. I wasn’t about to go confess to you when you were still heartbroken.”

“That’s valid,” you agreed. “You got me now, don’t worry. He’s not in the picture anymore and you currently have no other competition.”

“He’s still part of you though, made you the person you are today.”

“I hate that you’re right”, you sighed. “Unfortunately, you never forget your first love even if it hurt.”

“Well, he was your first love, but I kinda want to be your last if you’ll allow me.”

“That’s perfectly fine by me”, you replied with a chuckle.

“So… We’re all good now? I can peacefully be in love with you?” Logan asked with a grin.

“Yes you can,” you nodded. “I fear I’ll be in love with you too soon enough if you keep being sweet like that.”

“I definitely wouldn’t mind that,” was the last thing he said before offering to kiss you again.

And although Logan knew it may actually take a while before you’d be completely in tune with your feelings, he also knew that he had no reason to worry about him. He was just a memory, a bittersweet and nostalgic one. Still part of who you became as a person, but he was in the past. Someone you'd probably never see again. And if you did, you were over him anyway. The only man that mattered to you right now was Logan – the one you currently loved, the one kissing you, the one who'd give you the world and burn it to the ground if it meant that he could see you smile.

Logan had been playing the long game and he was finally rewarded for his years of loyalty. You wished you could go back in the past and tell your younger self that the best friend she’d made when she started primary school would later become her boyfriend – past you would be delighted as she might have had a slight crush on Logan when she met him and he offered to share his pencils so that she could colour the sun drawn in the corner of her paper – but this would be tampering with time.

So if reliving everything that ever happened to you was necessary to end up with Logan now, then you’d do it all over again. And Logan would still wait for you, no matter how long it’d take.

..........

And we're done! I hope y'all liked this, I'm super happy w how it turned out and i think this might be one my fav things ever written

Ngl i kinda put some personal stuff in here and it surprisingly made me feel better bc even tho I'm over the person, idk if I'll ever be over the situation yk so this is a way to keep coping w it years later lmao

Also☝🏻 let's take a minute to celebrate logan posting a few days ago bc i was so glad to see him on my screen, i miss him on the grid sm :(

See you next time, take care of yourself🫶🏻

[mj-iza-writer]

Whumptober Day 4

Hallucinations - Hypnosis - Sensory Deprivation - "You're still alive in my Head" (Billy Lockett, More.)

I don't see a lot of Ghost Whump, I love hauntings so much.

Whumper had been arrested, and was now awaiting court dates. An investigation was being conducted so he had a while to wait.

Police had been tipped off about violent noises coming from Whumper's home.

Police got there as quickly as they could, but it seemed to be too late for Whumpee.

Whumpee lay in a puddle of their own blood. Stab wounds covered their body... some more critical than others.

Whumper sat on the couch watching the body... knife still in hand.

Police made the arrest... Whumper went quietly.

"I'll have to figure out who tipped off the police", Whumper frowned as they waited in solitary, "if I ever get out of here."

They were deemed too dangerous to be anywhere else.

A flash of something caught Whumper's attention, but it was gone as quick as it was there.

"What was that?", Whumper frowned, "it almost looked like.... nah! I'm hallucinating."

That night, Whumper tried to sleep. It wasn't easy as the lights were left on.

Something moved from one side of their cell to the other and seemed to disappear into the wall.

"Whumpee?", Whumper jumped up.

Throughout the night Whumper had several nightmares. By morning they were rocking back and forth in the corner of the cell.

They could barely eat breakfast, but with the threat of force feeding they gagged down the food.

Solitary confinement was boring. The guards didn't interact often enough.

The guards knew what Whumper did. All of them agreed they belonged on death row.

The only time guards would interact with Whumper was when they would cry out for help because someone was in their cell with them.

The guards figured Whumper was losing their mind. They showed no sympathy though. Whumper didn't deserve it.

That night Whumper tried to rest, they were lightly sleeping when they had this dream.

Whumpee stood in the cell with them. Still covered in the stab wounds. Blood dripped from their body. Black goop flooded from their eyes like they had been crying constantly. Whumpee was talking... no yelling... but no sound. Whumpee approached the bed, something metal suddenly glistened in their hand. Whumpee lifted their arms in preparation to stab.

Whumper jolted awake before the knife went into them.

They yelled for the guards.

"What do you want?", a guard approached.

"Please I need help, they-theyre haunting me", Whumper gasped, "I killed them and they're haunting me. Tr-trying to kill me."

"For what you did to, I might agree with them", the guard chuckled, "I don't think you deserve sympathy or forgiveness, but why don't you try apologizing to the ghost."

Whumper nodded weakly, this haunting was seriously affecting them. They never felt so tired or scared in their life.

Whumper looked around the cell, "Whumpee I'm sorry", they begged, "I'm so sorry. Please forgive me", tears fell from their eyes as they pleaded.

The rest of the night, Whumper could hear Whumpee's yelling ringing in their ear.

They were fairly certain they didn't receive forgiveness from Whumpee.

The next night though was quiet, Whumper was even able to get a full night of sleep. The first since they were imprisoned.

Whumpee's eyes fluttered open weakly. They were too tired to care about where they were.

A gentle hand rested on Whumpee's arm.

Whumpee took in how warm it felt.

"Where am I?", Whumpee whispered.

"You are in the hospital. Do you remember anything?", a voice came from beside them. They were too weak to look around.

"I, um, I got stabbed.... I think", Whumpee whispered, "I thought I died. I was waiting for my body to catch up with me."

"You were very close", the voice comforted, "it took a lot of people. Highly trained people to get you to this point. You've been in a coma for a few days just so your body could heal."

"Whumper's in prison?", Whumpee turned toward the voice.

"Yes", the person nodded, "don't move a lot, you are still in bad shape. How did you know."

"It feels like I was there with them", Whumpee frowned, "who are you?"

"I'm Caretaker, I was put in charge of taking care of you for as long as you need me to", Caretaker smiled, but was startled by this. They recalled the guards mentioning Whumper's issues.

"Whumper doesn't know you're alive currently. We want to surprise them at their court hearing", Caretaker stood, "I will tell you more later. For right now, you need to rest. Here take a drink."

"Okay", Whumpee nodded, "thankyou."

A week went by. Besides boredom, Whumper was very happy to be rid of the ghostly visitor.

They were also elated to hear their first court date was scheduled soon.

Whumper sat in the courtroom, heavily shackled. Their lawyer was talking with him about a few things before the hearing started.

Whumper watched as a bigger computer was set in the witness stand. It was turned to the judge and jury first.

"Can I say a cuss word?", a small, weak voice came from the computer.

"For ehat you've been through, I will allow", the judge winked at the screen and watched as the computer was turned to the crows.

Caretaker was sitting in front of the judge as well. A stand in for Whumpee because of how weak Whumpee still was. All their notes neatly set to read over when their time came to talk.

Caretaker side eyed Whumper as the realization hit Whumper.

Whumper went pale.

"I lived Mother Fucker", Whumpee stated as strongly as they could.

The judge couldn't help but chuckled.

Without hearing anything else the judge slammed their gavel on the desk.

"Guilty", the judge stated.

Whumper was zoned out at the point.

Whumper sat in the bed of the death row floor.

"Whu-Whumpee lived?", was all Whumper would whisper as they slowly went mad, "Whu-Whumpee lived?"

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all.

@villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived

@sacredwrath @porschethemermaid

@monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz

@bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13

@notpeppermint @cyborg0109

@idontreallyexistyet

@painfulplots @whumpbump

@everythingsscary @skittles-the-whumpee

@expressionless-fr @theforeverdyingperson

@legendarydelusiongoatee @candleshopmenace

@whumpanthems @lavndvrr

@ivymyers @starfields08000

@a-living-canvas @lumpofsand

@watermeezer @indigoviolet311

@whumpy-mountains @3-2-whump

@risk606 @electrons2006

@paperprinxe @whumprince

@kaz-of-crows @mis-graves

@decaffeinatedtimetraveler94 @sausages-things

@ragin-cajun-fangirl @isikedmyself878

@daffyduckcommittedtaxfraud @valravnthefrenchie

@glennemerald @jasperthecapser

@does-directions @deafeninglittlecrown

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Hey, I'm sorry I couldn't find anything about whether request were open or not, but if they are can you do the gushing over their animal form with Jade/Floyd, Ruggie and Malleus (since he has referenced several times that he can turn into a dragon)? If not pls just delete thank you

Jade Leech

“Ohhh My Gaaahsh! You’re a merman?! An eel merman?! Wooowww!”

“(Y/n) focus! Or you’ll lose Ramshackle forever!”

“But he’s a moray eel!”

Even after the fact he’s flattered that you were so stunned about this

If you don’t seek him out he’s seeking you out 

Like feather on a string to a cat he’ll mention something about being a moray eel or dropping a fact 

Watching excitedly as your face lights up and your face moves closer to his

You’re so adorable it's insane

Inviting you to meet up with him so you could look at his tail

Or letting you look inside his mouth at his rows of teeth

Of course it's all for a price but he doesn’t need to tell you that 

He’ll just happily repeat that whenever your friends ask why he thinks it's okay to disappear with you in the Coral Sea

“(Y/n) just wants to know more about me, what's the problem with that?”

He knows why they’d be worried but it's so satisfying to find you so excited to simply hold his tail

You’ll even let him squeeze you if it means you get to touch his scales

You’re just cute like that

He’s addicted  

It's his favorite game of watching you ignore all his red flags so you can gush over his animal traits 

“If you promise to spend that weekend camping with me, I’ll let you see a secret trait I have in common with real moray eels.”

Floyd Leech

That's adorable

Shrimpy likes morays!!

He’ll be curious as to why your so excited everytime he comes to play with Baby Seal or Crab or the Mackaral

And as long as he doesn’t squeeze too tight you love playing with him

“So I’ve been meaning to ask: what is it that you like so much?”

You aren’t afraid to tell him and his reaction further spurs you on

Immediately he’s carting you off so you can play with him in his mer form

You’re so excited because Morays are so mysterious

Where you’re from they’re pretty elusive so your more than excited when Floyd proudly presents his teeth

Your his favorite to play with, so don’t play with anyone else

Don’t look at Jade hang out with him

he prefers it when you don’t announce when you get handsy with him

He’s guarding your curiosity because its his you’re his

At first it's just your interest in marine life than its you simply asking how your friends are

“Oi oi I don’t like it when my Shrimpy goes explorin’. You’re not encouraging that right?! Otherwise I’ll have to squeeze all the air out of ya.”

Ruggie Bucci

For a while he just knows that whenever he enters the room your eyes are on him

He doesn’t have to talk to you but you notice him

He sees you look at his ears and tail 

And he figures you just want to touch them

That's cool if your willing to pay

But even if you do it doesn’t stop

Honestly he’s flattered he doesn’t have to do much to get your attention

It certainly helps when he’s busy taking care of Leona all day

So he’ll bite 

And he’s in shock when you admit how much you like hyenas

“Like you're already a team player and survival is like super important! Not to mention you are a male but your so cool and sure of yourself–”

“G-geez don’t dissect your seniors like that! It gives serious Rook vibes.”

“R-right, sorry.”

“Not exactly saying you should stop all of it though…”

He’s blushing but he’s making the most of your interest

Drinking in that smile on your face as he answers your questions

While he’s not exactly used to being the one that's glorified but he doesn’t mind it

In fact the moment he feels your attention wane he’s pulling out any and all stops to maintain your attention

“Ruggie, did you take something from my bag?”

“Shishishishi you know hyena’s are scavengers! Best you start paying more attention!”

Malleus Draconia

This doesn’t come up casually

For the beginning of your friendship you didn’t even know his actual name

So it's more likely than not you mention it off-handedly

Once characters in books or movies or just in general is recognizable he’s keeping track

This is still so new

He doesn’t want to lose you if he reveals this part of himself

But Malleus is a stickler for correctness

So if you speak about how dragons in fiction do things and he corrects you or makes a distinction and your doubtful or just downright now believing he’ll transform

Totally dwarfing you in sheer size

Realizing what he’s done he’s fully prepared for you to gasp and runoff Not that you’d get too far

Your beam and squealing and touching him so much more

Your so adorable with your questions

Your soft little fingers running over his scales and spending all night excitedly being around him

Transforming back he relishes in the intimacy this brings

In the future he may refrain from full-on dragon form but his tail is close enough

But it keeps you close to him both as a conversation topic and as a limb that can easily pull you to his side

“Sorry to put you under the lens like this Tsuno…”

“It is not a problem. I have found that your inquiries help answer my own curiosities about you.”

He can’t be beat, he won’t be beat because who else is going to go full dragon for your mere curiousity

No one can compare especially when it comes to animal-heritage

According to you the closest that you could ever get to a dragon would be a carnivorous lizard

So aren’t you lucky that this dragon fae is swooning at the suggestion of your touch

“I would like for you to feel my horns. Please, do not be shy, this is an action instigating intimacy. Intimacy that I welcome with you (Y/n), my child of man.”