#and did the necessary preparations on their end

[muniimyg]

i’m afraid i’m going to need a scene about jungkook teasing oc about the dolphin book because that moment in the last chapter was just too cute

ok :p //

“you know... you could try reading the instructions for once," you grumble, snatching the recipe book from where jungkook had haphazardly tossed it aside.

he has messed up for nth time tonight and your hangry attitude is not having it.

you're done.

your boyfriend is annoying and your food is about to be wasted because jungkook thinks going by instict and kissing you every 5 minutes is how dinner will prepare itself.

“it’s not that hard, jungkook.” you add, tone more stern.

“instructions are for people without instincts,” he replies, leaning lazily against the counter while watching you dice onions.

you pause, glaring at him.

“you don’t have ‘instincts.’ last time you winged it, we ended up eating instant ramen for dinner.”

“and it was delicious,” he shoots back, grin widening when you roll your eyes. “besides, you choose really confusing recipes. why can't we ever just bake a pizza and have sex for dessert?”

“sex for dessert?”

"i could lick whipped cream off your—"

"shut up."

“wow. harsh,” he says, clutching his chest in mock offense. “i'm simply suggesting dessert... shit, ___. i’m starting to feel unappreciated in this relationship.”

“maybe you should start actually helping, then,” you mutter, turning back to your chopping. but the corners of your mouth twitch as he snickers behind you.

“you know,” he starts casually, his voice taking on a mischievous lilt, “for someone who lectures me about not following instructions, you sure don’t apply that same energy to your dolphin book.”

you freeze mid-chop, your brain stuttering. “my what?”

“everything you need to know about dolphins from a to z,” he says, his tone so smug you can practically hear the smirk on his face. “real page-turner, huh?”

you whirl around, cheeks blazing.

“how do you know about that?!”

“doesn't matter, mrs. save the dolphins.” he crosses his arms, leaning against the counter with the smuggest expression you’ve ever seen. "do you think we should go to mexico or something and swim with them?”

your jaw drops.

“no, that's terrifying... and you're the worst.”

“no,” he corrects, pointing at himself. “i’m the best. which is why I’ll forgive you for hiding your secret dolphin knowledge.”

“oh my god,” you groan, shoving past him to grab the frying pan. “i can’t believe this. you’re literally insufferable.”

“and yet,” he hums, trailing after you as you stomp across the kitchen, “you keep me around. i must have some redeeming qualities, huh?”

“none,” you reply sharply, though your voice cracks under your rising embarrassment. you slap the pan on the stove a little harder than necessary, your ears burning.

he doesn’t miss a beat, following a step behind as you start cooking.

“so this is how it feels to be led by a dolphin expert,” he muses. then, as you turn to grab some seasoning, he lets out a low, playful woof right behind you.

you whip around, eyes wide. “did you just—?”

“just a loyal boyfriend following his master,” he teases, grinning like he’s won the lottery. “woof.”

“i am so tired of you,” you say, jabbing a finger at his chest. “you’re such a—”

“what? nerd?” he interrupts, his eyes dancing with amusement. “takes one to date one.”

“ugh!” you spin back toward the stove, your shoulders stiff with frustration, but you can’t hide the smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

behind you, jungkook laughs, his voice warm, and the sound settles something in your chest despite yourself.

you hate him.

[makiitabaki]

Finally answering this:

Thank you, @saintjustitude for asking me to rant—I adore doing just that :]

(First of all, thank you to everyone for waiting. I know I took a lot of time to write this, but I had only around an hour free every day, and I usually spent it searching for sources. My knowledge is limited; the play isn't available. I rely on memoirs, interviews, and reviews. 

My inbox is always open, and if anyone has any Wojtek questions, I'd be absolutely delighted to answer them. And I mean it. It can be anything. 

 Every quote was translated by me. All my sources are listed.

Unfortunately a part of it wasn't saved, and I don't have access to some info anymore but this post will probably serve as the beginning of a longer thread.)

And now: “Sprawa Dantona” (1975).

1. How did it all come to be? Why was ‘The Danton Case’ and not any other play?

When I say ‘Danton’ directed by Wajda, most probably think of the 1983 version, a political metaphor: Comsal representing the Polish government, Dantonist representing Solidarity. Was it like that originally? Was Wajda just calling for a fight with the government, transforming Przybyszewska's work to fit his own narrative?

In short: No! (At least if we're referring to the 1975 version, the film is completely another story; I'll gladly make another post about it.).

Zygmunt Hübner (I have mentioned him already in this post) chose Wajda to direct the play even though the latter was a relatively young director; something was telling Hübner that giving the play to him would be absolutely necessary. Pszoniak later referred to that event as Wajda being cast in it as much as he himself was.

The play was simply a way to introduce the artistic team Hübner created. There was none of some “noble patriotism’ or 'anti communism'. (None of what Wajda described as the purpose of the later film.)

Why was that play in particular chosen? That is unknown.

“The idea [of exhibiting that play] came from the fact that Hübner was looking for a play (…) that would present his artistic team as a whole, which he assembled with great imagination and intuition.”

At first, Pszoniak laughed into Hübner's face when offered the role. He thought it fine, intruiging, but the character of Robespierre was so foreign to him that he couldn't give anything from his own person or his own experiences to his Maximilien.

He asked for the role of Danton; that role seemed to fit him way better with "his [Danton's] sensuality, his dynamic physiognomy, and his balls."

Wajda and Hübner were quite insistent and more or less forced Pszoniak into the role.

“Hübner and Wajda were so stubborn that they did not take my objection into account. Nothing there [in the role] suited me; there was no starting point for the role. I had no right to play it. But they convinced me for so long that the whole situation with ‘The Danton Case’ became a dead end.”

The transformation from simply a good play to something entirely political in Wajda's eyes was very slow but steady. On that a little later.

2. Pszoniak wasn't ready to play Robespierre? How did he prepare for the role then?

It's very important to note that it was not bad will that made Pszoniak initially refuse the role, but the theater typecast he was put into and which he almost got used to. All of his power and stage presence were connected to his own physicality, to this sort of mobility and expression that he had to (presumably at Wajda's request) abandon while playing Robespierre.

Wojtekspierre getting his hair cut from a man with surprisingly modern glasses

Whether he was in a tragedy or comedy, it was the unique liveliness that made him so different. Suddenly he was offered the role of Robespierre, a man he only knew from unfavorable history books, portrayed a certain way by Przybyszewska, and he's made to stand before the expanse of that character's personality in a try to make him someone physical.

While it might seem quite shocking, when preparing for the role, Pszoniak didn't even read any Robespierre biography. Why? According to him:

“I didn’t think at all about a historical figure, and besides, you can’t play any historical figure. I put aside the books on the French Revolution. I read them much later, when, years later, in Paris. (…) I didn't want to portray a historical figure, so I didn't judge or evaluate him. I simply tried to get closer to him, to understand him as a person. Przybyszewska herself made it easier for me. The text of the play clearly indicated that she was fascinated by him. (...) Przybyszewska constructed this character in an unusual, enigmatic way. I clung to this fascination, it was a reason for treating Robespierre with empathy. This is a necessary condition for creating a character, without empathy you will never be able to get closer to the man you are to become on stage. Wandering through the labyrinth of his emotions, motives for action, opinions he expresses, I became so strongly attached to him, he took over me so much, that as a result I became Robespierre-Pszoniak.”

Pszoniak admitted he didn't want to play a politician [but, of course, as we all know, he was later forced to in ‘Danton’ (1983)].

The preparations took time and patience (especially from his wife - Barbara). Pszoniak tends to describe it as a painful process. Robespierre's physical expression was compared to being bound tightly by his own flesh, almost imprisoned by it, but freed by his mind. Pszoniak realized that all of the power in portraying Robespierre could only be gained from a deeper reflection. How to show a mind on stage?

That Pszoniak didn't know, and so he made the decision to show Robespierre's determination and faith instead of simply a calculated brain. To show a path, an objective. That's why the last scene was so hard to play (conversation between Robespierre and Saint-Just after Danton's death); he even asked Wajda for a white cloth as a makeshift shroud. To Pszoniak, that scene meant the symbolic death of his character. Robespierre (described by Pszoniak as a “very intelligent man") feels that inevitable peril awaits in the near future. The actor often described a feeling of mourning something or someone after the performance.

The challenge of creating the role, in the words of Wojciech Pszoniak:

“I started to control all my reflexes morning till night; from waking up to falling asleep, I was destroying myself. In everyday life, even the smallest activity, I slowed down; I was reducing and cleaning up [every one of] my habits. Torment, the absolute torment of controlling yourself, of managing yourself. Zero spontaneity, the phone rings, my first reaction—run to answer it—I stop myself calmly, in control of every slowed-down gesture. I imitated Zygmunt Hübner's focused gait; I noticed how he placed his feet. And I started walking like that myself. That's how I set a different, more controlled way of moving. After that, I turned to gestures, head movements, the way of getting up, and gesticulation. I felt that I was different. Acquaintances and friends both asked where this change came from. I suppressed the dynamic, extraverted myself.”

And

“I was pushing the boundaries of supervision [over myself], checking how I would behave after drinking a larger amount of vodka. One day I went out with Basia [wife] and friends (...) After a few bottles, at four in the morning, they were amused, cheered up, asking if I was sick because I was behaving like a machine. After three weeks of suffering, I reached ground zero. This happened during the rehearsals. A conversation about Robespierre and Danton. I joined the discussion, exclaiming, 'I disagree!’ - and suddenly I saw that my hand was no longer my hand, that it was not the hand of that Pszoniak that I am, but that it was already a hand—the beginning of someone else.”

3. What of Danton?

Here the problem with the play began. The man cast as Danton, Bronisław Pawlik, was just... terrible.

He was a good actor in general, definitely, but in short (explanation for the anglophones), it was like casting Danny DeVito as Danton.

He was short of stature, weak of voice, much older than Pszoniak, and simply unfit for the role.

He didn't have a stage presence; his voice was silenced by the other people on stage, and Pszoniak kept acting as if there was some great, dangerous opponent when there wasn't—the audience seemed to notice it.

It all added to a kind of feeling of resentment after preparing so long for the role of Robespierre.

Danton (Bronisław Pawlik), Camille (Olgierd Łukaszewicz) and Westermann (Franciszek Pieczka) celebrating

Pawlik was more concerned with the position of the props or the costume instead of conversing and shaping their roles. To Pszoniak it was the role of a lifetime, to Pawlik it wasn't.

“The audience was sitting on the stage because the entire theater had been transformed into the Revolutionary Tribunal. Here, a powerful voice and a [kind of] broad gesture were needed... Pawlik's charm disappeared in the feverish crowd. What consequences did this have for the play? Enormous, Danton was deprived of the strength [for both the audience and actors] to believe that he posed a deadly serious threat to the revolution. And this lack bothered me terribly...”

4. How did it become political then?

As I have previously mentioned, it was a slow, steady process. Even Wajda himself didn't think much of the play; it was the audience that began the change. 

As the first example, Pszoniak recalls a scene when Eleonore comes in with tea but not sugar—in the audience at first only a few laughing, but gradually along with the many performances it turned into the whole audience cackling. The play was exhibited just when a time of increasing problems with sugar supplies began in Poland (food stamps for sugar were introduced).

Pszoniak admitted that the cast would often laugh along with the audience. It seemed almost absurd—a tragic play blending with the real world. 

When it comes to Pszoniak himself in that time, the more he played the role, the more it felt like “punching the air.” Instead of having a genuine conflict, he had no support, no reference point in Pawlik as Danton or the audience. For the role to have meaning, to be something, it all had to be a matter of life and death. His co-actor was slipping into comedic grotesque while playing the second main role. 

"The success of the play was huge, but the audience was eager to read the play [only] in the context of political allusions. (…) The audience felt that something was happening [on and off stage], (…) the tension grew."

The audience's reaction seemed to be a direct answer to the Danton shown on stage. Instead of a political opponent, there stood a sad, tired victim of the committee who seems completely and utterly innocent, all his words said with a kind of saddened charm (doesn't that remind you of a certain film Wajda made later?).

5. What of the other actors?

Here is where I have the least information. If anyone has any more sources of information, actor memoirs, etc., feel free to reblog this post with additional info or simply contact me about it so I could make Part 2. :]

The cast.

I have to tell you something shocking... Wajda is capable of giving actual, normal characterization to secondary characters (gasp, thunderstrike, wolf howling).

Or perhaps that was just the actor/Zygmunt Hübner (I guess we'll never know).

The most information I could gather was about Saint-Just (played by the excellent Władysław Kowalski).

Based off the limited amount of reviews I could gather, he was a positive character in general. Described as “a man gifted with exceptional warmth and [someone] unconditionally devoted to his cause” or “full of raw passion."

AND HE GIVES MAXIME FLOWERS IN THIS VERSION AS WELL, EXCEPT IN THIS ONE ROBESPIERRE (KIND OF) SMILES!

I couldn't find much on Eleonore, Louise, or Lucille, though I've searched and searched for a few days. All I could find is that the actresses were excellent—that is, unfortunately, no source of any relevant information. Frankly speaking, since Wajda, in kind words, doesn't excel at writing women, I don't have much faith in their characterization on the director's part.

Camille played Łukaszewicz is usually called a “complicated youth"—that is, of course, an opinion—or “spontaneous in reflexes"—that's a bit better of a description. As you can see, I am limited by the fact the play isn't available, and I must depend on biased or subjective sources.

Worried Camille Desmoulins (Olgierd Łukaszewicz) - I do think this Camille looks quite nice.

6. And did the critics like it? Was it well directed?

In short, it was a very, very liked play by both the critics and the audience. It ran for 5 years; it ended around 1980, when many of the actors simply left Poland.

About critics and reviews written by them: What surprised me immensely is the fact that most available reviews (written before the release of the film ‘Danton’) of the play weren't anti-Robespierre. The play is often described as something of a moral discussion, something for the viewer to assess, a work that doesn't suggest one solution to understand the conflict, or revolution (in other words, a great play).

A thing I've noticed is that along with time, the descriptions of the main characters seem to change. Danton—in earliest reviews described as “absolutely repulsive," then later as a tragic man, someone who adores life. Robespierre—in earliest reviews described as an absolute “marble statue," an idealist, someone pure, then in later reviews as just a fanatic.

 

7. What about Wajda? Did he change the text much? What about the scenography?

I was surprised to learn that Wajda absolutely could make a good, Przybyszewska-accurate play.

 

From all I could find, there is not much I can accuse Wajda of when it comes to ‘The Danton Case’ stage adaptations. It was made very well. What most likely contributed to the later change in people's mentality when met with the play is the fact that the audience was sort of a part of the performance. How? Like this:

“It [the play] takes place on a stage placed in front of the audience; on the actual stage and in the rest of the audience sit in rows of chairs rising upwards. Everything encompassed by the scenography is one theater. This played out brilliantly in the second parts, in the beautifully composed group scenes, where the audience not only looks at the stage but is drawn into it as an extra audience at the hearings of the revolutionary tribunal.”

And

“Wajda made "The Danton Case" as if against himself—against his previous self: he gave up on visual effects, music, and symbolism. He built a spectacle—a spectacle indeed!—raw and beautiful. (…) During the (…) presentation of "The Danton Case," seats for viewers were also installed on the stage, which was fortunately spacious, the audience surrounds the actors, the actors are among the audience, on the balcony, in the passages.”

If Danton or Robespierre were so close to the audience, I think it really did influence the people's opinion of it later on. Pawlik was terrified, jumping like a fish out of water from one audience member to the other, and there was Pszoniak, white and still under his shroud just a few meters away. That did certainly change the performance's reception.

8. Where can I watch this?!

As I have mentioned here: the play isn't available online, but most certainly is somewhere in the archives (confirmed by Pszoniak), when it was supposed to have a TV debut the martial law was introduced, and a few years later everyone seemed to have forgotten about it.

So, erm… Who's raiding the archives with me? (By the way, fragments of the play exist online, but only 10-20 minute excerpts, so if I find the time, I'll try to track them down.).

Sources:

Books:

Aktor. Wojciech Pszoniak w rozmowie z Michałem Komarem, Wydawnictwo Literackie 2009;

Maciej Karpiński, Pszoniak, Wydawnictwa Artystyczne i Filmowe Warszawa 1976;

Małgorzata Terlecka-Reksnis, Pszoniak. Fragmenty, Wydawnictwo Poznańskie 2024

Photos used and play reviews (pardon the rhyme):

http://encyklopediateatru.pl

[wannabanauthor]

What should happen to BuckTommy in Season 8b

Eddie's thinking about moving to Texas, right?

Well, he has to pack, and he calls his two favorite buff men to help him pack and load all his stuff.

Tommy did not know Buck was going to be there, and vice versa.

They stare awkwardly at each other before noticing that most of Eddie's stuff is already packed.

Cheeky bastard.

He locks them both in his house with the parting, "Figure it the fuck out, then I'll unlock the doors."

Buck and Tommy are more than able to break down the door if necessary, but that wouldn't be a nice thing to do to their best friend's house.

They try to out-wait Eddie, but several hours pass with no communication from him.

Buck is doing his best to not look or talk to Tommy, but all the doors are locked, including the bedrooms, so he's stuck in the living room.

The kitchen doesn't have any baking/cooking ingredients, just prepared food in the fridge.

Buck is without his coping mechanism, and at some point he breaks down crying in the kitchen.

Tommy wants to comfort him, but he knows he's the reason Buck is like this, so he feels stuck and doesn't know what to do.

He hands Buck a tissue and some water, but Buck turns around and ignores him, trying to hide his sobs.

Tommy goes back to the living room and sits on the floor.

"Why?" he hears Buck say.

He gets back up and goes into the kitchen.

"Why what?" Tommy asks.

"Why did you give me a second chance just to break my heart six months later? Why didn't you tell me that you only saw us as a temporary thing? Why did you even give me hope that we could be something more?" Evan asks, in between sobs.

"Evan, I'm so-"

"It's Buck. You don't get to call me Evan anymore."

"I'm sorry."

Buck stops crying and looks at Tommy. There's anger and heartbreak written all over his face.

"Fuck you, you don't get to be sorry," Buck says.

"But I am. I didn't plan any of it. It just happened. You asked me to move in, and I panicked. I've been hurt before, and I knew I couldn't survive it if I moved in and then lost you."

Buck scoffed, but out of irony, not amusement.

Tommy stepped closer to him, and Buck remained where he was, almost as if he was sizing Tommy up.

"You kept putting me on this pedestal, and I knew one day you'd see me for who I am and leave," Tommy says.

"Is that what you think of me? Out of the two of us, you're the one who has left me, twice," Buck points out, and Tommy winces at that.

"You're very impulsive, and we hadn't even broached that topic before. I thought I was okay with you setting the pace, but I guess I wasn't. I thought it was in our best interest to end things now then later when it would hurt more."

Tommy pauses for a moment and looks at Buck. Really looks at him. His own heart breaks when he picks up on the little details of how Buck had been handling the breakup, The flour under his fingernails, his stubble, his longer curls, the bags under his eyes, the fidgeting with what's ever in reach, currently tissues being torn into little bits.

Tommy knows in his heart that he practically broke the man he loves, and it makes him feel even worse. There is still a part of him that wants to run, but he can't run again. Not after seeing Evan like this.

"I'm scared, Evan," Tommy confesses.

Buck's head snaps up in surprise, and he squints his eyes as if he doesn't trust Tommy.

Tommy feels the panic rise within him, but continues his train of thought. "Evan, I love you. But i'm terrified that one day you'll get tired of me and find someone else. It's happened before, and-"

"I'm not him. I'm me. From the first moment we met, I knew that I wanted to be with you. I didn't understand it at first because it felt so different from my past. I mean, you're not the first guy I've had a crush on. At all," Evan says.

Tommy clears his throat uncomfortably. He'd rather not think about Evan's past crushes.

"We spent nearly every free moment we've had together," Evan says. "I thought we were ready to move to the next step."

"I wasn't ready, and I'm sorry for not telling you sooner. I should have stayed and talked it out, but it felt like the room was closing in on me, and I needed to leave."

"And you left, then ignored me for weeks," Evan says. "I felt like I was going insane and imagined our whole relationship."

Tommy steps into Evan's space and uses two fingers to lift Evan's chin. "You are the best thing that's ever happened to me, Evan. I love you so much, and I'm terrified because it's never felt like this before."

Evan gives an amused chuckle. "I guess it was my turn to see you at your worst."

Tommy cups Evan's cheeks. "I am so sorry, for everything. I feel like I don't deserve a second chance, but I'm still ask-"

Evan cuts him off with a kiss.

Tommy relaxes and kisses him back. It feels like coming home after a long day of work to the arms of his partner. He never wants that feeling to leave.

"I love you too, asshole," Evan whispers against Tommy's lips.

They both chuckle at that.

"Where do we go from here?" Evan asks.

"Couple's counseling. I want us to work. I want us to be forever," Tommy says and gives Evan the tenderest kiss.

"That works," Evan replies between kisses.

They don't stop kissing or holding each other until they're nearly out of breath.

"Finally!" they hear from outside and jump.

Eddie's standing outside with his phone in hand, and on the screen is a live camera feed showing.

"Now, let's get something to eat," Tommy says and kisses Evan again. He was going to kill and thank Eddie, but for now, he's happy just to be with Evan again.

He looks into Evan's eyes and knows that this is it for him. Evan's the one.

[ricoka]

people who know exactly that they'll go on vacation the following week, sending you the least clear instructions and an email that would require a mountain of elaboration 5 minutes before the weekend deserve a special place in hell

[deadsetobsessions]

Damian Wayne was like a duckling. A violent, stab-happy, danger-prone duckling, yes, but a duckling all the same. Which means when Danny almost got stabbed by a sleepy, instinct driven Damian, he was able to wave it off with a laugh. Damian, on the other hand, stared in horror at the butter knife firmly lodged in Danny’s arm.

“PENNYWORTH!” Danny jerked back at Damian’s scream. “RICHARD! FATHER!”

God damn, the kid had a pair of lungs on him. Danny’s wince was interpreted as pain to Damian, who gently grabbed his injured arm and started to pull him towards the kitchen’s marble island.

Danny blinked, non plussed as his hearing picked up a thundering of feet as the present family members scrambled towards Damian’s distress call.

“Wait, Damian, I’m fine. It’s-”

“You have been impaled, you imbecile! Had it been any of the other simpletons, they would have-!”

“Ouch.” Danny put his other hand in mock hurt over his slow-beating heart. He literally doesn’t care about the butter knife. He’s just impressed there was enough force in there to impale him. “Are you calling me names now? After- gasp- stabbing me?”

Before Damian could reply, the beginnings of regret, remorse, and guilt on his face, Alfred, Dick, and Bruce burst into the kitchen.

“What happened?!”

“My word, master Danny!”

“What is it?!”

“I’m fine. It’s like a small stab. Not even a big stab. I’m good.”

Dick paled, seeing Danny’s arm clutched in Damian’s hand.

“That’s- that’s a knife. In your arm. How is that ‘fine’?!”

“What happened.” Bruce asked Damian, gently removing Danny’s arm from Damian’s death clutch.

“I- I did not mean to,” Damian starts, guilt coloring his voice.

“He didn’t,” Danny cuts in. “I startled him and got stabbed for being dumb. I won’t fault him for having a defense mechanism like that, ancient knows what I might do if you guys startled me.”

The awkward silence that settled at his words made Danny twitch awkwardly.

“Uh, so, can I add this knife to my collection? Even if I didn’t get mugged?”

“Danny.”

“Bruce.” Danny stared stubbornly back. With his uninsured hand, he patted Damian on the head. He was going to enjoy the fluffiness before Damian’s guilt was no longer enough to hold him back from snapping at Danny’s hand like a grumpy alligator. Bruce loses, obviously. He’s a teenager who was also an ex-vigilante. Batman’s got nothing on a determined halfa.

“Master Danny, I must insist you refrain from getting stabbed. There is only so much gauze and antiseptic cream in the house.” Alfred returned- huh, when did he leave?- with a med kit.

Danny called bullshit because he knows there’s a whole ass medical bay beneath the manor.

“Sorry.”

“No need to apologize.” Alfred said, promptly beginning the extraction of the butter knife.

“Are you okay?” Dick asked, hovering worriedly. “He- are you…?”

Damian was allowing Danny to ruffle his hair, so…

“Yep, I’m good. This isn’t even on my top thirty most painful stabbings,” and it really wasn’t. That honor was given to the GIW and that one time Jazz accidentally stabbed him with her earrings. “That was pretty impressive, actually. It’s like, a butter knife. The other ones had pointy ends.”

“Do not clump me with those pathetic wastes of spaces. I am naturally superior and would… would never harm you on purpose.” Damian said, getting quiet at the end like he was trying to plead to Danny to believe him.

“Of course not. But- if you want help me keep the knife, you can hit me with a mug, it would technically be a mugging.”

The pun got the desired effect. Damian leaned away with a disgruntled look and Dick stopped hovering as close in order to let out a small cackle.

“Done.”

“You should go get changed, kiddo. We’re going to see Tim’s photography at the Gotham Gallery today.”

“Oh, for real?” Danny patted Damian’s fluffy hair one last time, pushing away from the counter. “Oh, I’ll clean up here first and-”

“That will not be necessary,” Alfred scolded, a mop somehow already in his hands. “Please see to it you are prepared for the day.”

“Thanks, Alfred. Can I keep the knife.”

“Very well.”

“Sweet. See you guys later?” Danny pranced off after seeing the nods.

——

“He’s… he got stabbed a lot. Before us, I mean.” Dick tapped a furious rhythm onto the counter. “Not that we’ve stabbed him until now but even once is concerning for a civilian.”

“He was used to it.” Bruce replied.

“Perhaps we should join Todd in his endeavor and ensure that his worthless tormentors are permanently out of the picture.”

“God, he said top thirty. He was counting.”

Damian silently withdrew a kitchen knife.

“No murder with my quality chef’s knives, Master Damian.”

“Tt.”

“Master Jason follows the same rules. Now, out of the kitchen. I may be old, but I remember the last time master Bruce and master Dick stepped foot in here and I will not have a repeat.”

[lustspren]

P.S.T EP. 16 | And The Snakes Start To Sing ft Karina, Yeji.

length: 16.9k words ✦

Karina, Yeji X Male Reader

genres:  threesome, anal, facial, double blowjob, pussy eating, dirty talk, creampie, rough sex, bi, blowjob, daddy kink, footjob, titjob, face fuck

✦✧✦✧✦✧

✦✧✦✧✦✧

The air felt different that morning, and so did the mattress and pillow beneath you.

But of course it did. After months of hotel after hotel, after dozens of different beds, you were finally in the comfort of your own bed, in your own place. It was a necessary commodity, since you were close to chronic fatigue or even back problems from changing mattresses so often without optimal rest.

It seemed like an unbeatable scenario for you, only that it could actually be improved; the two beauties you had under your arms when you woke up confirmed it. The two of them, realizing that you had already woken up, snuggled closer to your sides, both with their heads on your chest.

"Now that you're unemployed can we just stay like this all day?" Rina asked in a tender, low voice, clinging to you with her arms and legs.

You weren't prepared to even contemplate how to answer that question; it sounded too weird to hear, like it was a joke to catch you off guard.

"I know a few girls who might be interested in seeing him if he wanted to," Yeji interrupted you from your left to give you a peck on the collarbone, before you could say anything. "But I'm happy to stay with my two bros as long as you two want."

After bringing your hands to rub your eyes and a yawn you put your five senses together to be able to talk.

"We can certainly stay like this for a while," you squeezed them against you with your arms crossed over their soft backs, both pairs of soft breasts pressed against your ribs. "But there's something I didn't tell you last night..."

THE PREVIOUS MORNING.

You didn't know what was scarier, the spooky hangar you were walking to once you got off the jet, or the men in suits waiting for you inside. In the end you decided it was a draw.

The hangar had no lights inside, it was only lit by sunlight filtering through small rectangular windows at the bottom of the wide doors at the back that made the floor shine, which was very worn from probably so many years of one without maintenance. It was obvious that it had not been used for a long time.

But inside they were. The devils in suits. As haughty and visibly detestable as you imagined them. They were not exactly few; at first glance you counted more than a dozen, which led you to think that not only high executives of SM would be there. There had to be at least one from each big company with their respective entourage of assistants and security guards.

However, something caught your attention: neither Irene nor the reporter were there. Confused, you turned to look at Jihye as you crossed the threshold and were covered by the shadow, but she seemed to know perfectly well what was happening. It had to be the part that she left out of the plan for you.

She approached a tall man wearing sunglasses and stopped in front of him. You and the girls stopped behind Jihye. The man had to be the SM delegate, judging by how two men stepped forward from behind him as soon as you approached.

“Are the cars ready?” Jihye asked the man, who merely nodded before he began issuing orders to his men.

“Take them to the airport,” he ordered one of his aides, pointing directly at Rina, Minjeong, Aeri, and Ning. “They don’t need to be here for what’s coming next.”

“Huh?” Rina stepped away from the man who went to escort them to the car, her brow furrowed. “No way, we want to see Irene!”

The other girls came out in support of their leader and joined in the argument, insisting that they wanted to see the bitch who almost ruined their entire career.

The SM representative snorted and took a sharp step forward.

“Shut your fucking mouths and get in the car!” he pointed outside, where the caravan of black-tinted SUVs were. “SM, JYP, YG, and even HYBE have done miracles to be here and clean up the mess that damn bitch made,” he jerked his chin at Minjeong, who cowered in fear and embarrassment.

“Hey!” yelled Aeri, stepping forward and facing the man. “Watch your fucking mouth, you piece of shit!”

You were about to come to Minjeong’s defense as well, but Jihye grabbed your hoodie from behind like you were a little kid.

“It’s okay, girls,” she said, stepping between you and the man, and motioning for Aeri to get away. "Get in the car and behave yourselves. We'll all be meeting up soon."

You wanted to hold onto that as a comfort to them, but you got the slightest bit of a feeling that she didn't quite believe what she was saying. Rina, however, being the responsible person she was, gathered her entire troop together and nodded at them reassuringly. The four of them then hugged you and Jihye.

"Good luck, guys," Rina said, hugging you.

“Thank you, Jiminie,” you said, hugging her back with a few pats on the back.

By the time you and she pulled away, Minjeong and Jihye were still hugging each other for a little longer than you expected.

“Thank you for saving me, unnie…” you heard Minjeong say in a soft voice. “Even though I don’t deserve it.”

Jihye didn’t respond, just closed her eyes and let out a heavy breath. Minjeong stepped away from her a second later, and joined the rest of the girls in letting the man lead them to the car. You had no choice but to watch as they entered and disappeared from your sight behind the tinted windows.

“Very well,” the man continued, as the car carrying the girls pulled away. “The matters discussed at the meeting have already been handled,” he nodded at you. “Does he know all the details?”

"He knows enough," Jihye replied flatly.

That felt like a pang in your heart. Aren't you two supposed to...?

"W-what?" you said to yourself.

"Let's go to the other hangar then," the man nodded, and motioned for Jihye to go with another guy. Then he looked at you. "You'll go with him."

He pointed to a different man, shorter and visibly younger. From the quality of his suit and the classy air he carried, he seemed to be another big shot. The man approached you, and after a bow invited you to follow him to the car. None of that gave you the slightest bit of confidence, but you couldn't feel anything but a deep stupor at Jihye's words, so you just followed him.

When you got into the backseat of the car it was like being on autopilot. You thought you knew the plan; you were supposed to have everything under control, you knew your part and what you had to do. But those words hinted that there was something going on behind the scenes that you didn't know about, and you were terrified just thinking about the possibilities.

The caravan of SUVs set off towards the hangar where Irene and the reporter were. On the way, the man you went with, who was also the one driving, cleared his throat and looked at you in the rearview mirror.

"Irene has a point, doesn't she?" he asked, in a polite and friendly tone of voice. The complete opposite of the SM representative.

Now you weren't just stunned by what had happened, but by that statement as well. The combination didn't let you answer.

"Be honest," he continued, now looking straight ahead. "Don't you think the industry is too cruel to aspiring boys and girls?"

"Uh..."

"I understand that part of the product is formed based on building a parasocial relationship with the fans," he interrupted you, answering his own question. “Honestly it’s cruel even for them. But I like to think that even with all the negatives…” he paused slightly. “The industry has done more good than harm.”

Noticing that he got a little carried away by his thoughts, the man glanced at you in the rearview mirror again and let out a small, embarrassed laugh.

“I apologize, buddy,” he said. “I’m Lee Gunwook, the JYP representative. And well, JYP himself shares the same vision: he just wants to make good progress in the industry for everyone involved.”

“I’m not surprised,” you said finally, looking out the window at the runways. “He looks like an open-minded man.”

Gunwook let out another laugh.

“You have no idea,” he replied. “But I go back to my question: don’t you think Irene has a point even though her methods weren’t the most ethical?”

The hatred and anger you felt towards Irene made your blood boil, but you had to be honest with yourself.

“Yeah,” you said quietly, just enough for him to hear.

He grinned from ear to ear.

“Alright, then you’ll need this and keep your mouth shut during the meeting.”

Gunwook reached into the glove compartment of the car and pulled out a visibly new phone. He handed it to you and you took it. It was a Samsung, you didn’t know which one exactly, but it was certainly a lot better than your current phone.

“Uh… well, I’ll need some time to get all the contacts and pictures from my phone onto this one.”

“Ah, you don’t have to worry about that, it’s already taken care of.”

He pulled his phone out from between his legs and fiddled with it. A few seconds later your current phone completely lost signal, and the new phone turned on displaying the Samsung logo.

“May I know what the hell you did, Lee Gunwook?” You asked, seeing that there was absolutely nothing on your phone, no pictures, no contacts, no working mobile network.

“The number is the same, so I don’t think you need to worry about giving a new one to anyone,” he said, as if that was your biggest concern at the moment.

The caravan stopped a few moments later, and by that point you had already realized the immense amount of power that the people involved in this whole situation had. It was kinda scary.

Before getting out of the car, Gunwook turned around to look at you directly and not through the rearview mirror.

"By the way, thanks for taking such good care of the ITZY girls," he told you, with a sincerity that you recognized. "I have a soft spot for them because well, I recruited them years ago," he smiled proudly. "But well, let me and Noze take care of you, please."

Gunwook then opened the door to the snake pit, and you got out of the car with him.

That hangar did look like it had been used recently; it had nothing to do with the previous one. In this one the white floor was perfectly polished and shiny, and it reflected the multiple rows of white lights hanging across the room. The men in suits, you and Noze walked inside.

Inside were Irene and the bastard, and damn, you wished you could have pulled out your phone to photograph Irene’s face as she realized how much firepower Jihye had gathered in such a short time. You approached the two of them in quick steps.

“I see I made a mistake in underestimating such a wonderful woman,” Irene said when you stopped, a tone of affection in her voice and a weak smile on her face. “I should have been more cautious.”

As much as you wanted to crucify her and the other jerk, you couldn’t help but nod discreetly. Jihye just avoided her gaze and crossed her arms, looking up and down one of the hangar walls.

The SM representative quickly stood between them, hands behind his back.

“You are not going to speak to her, Bae Joohyun,” he said, stern. “There are far more important people here right now that you and your pathetic accomplice need to talk to.”

He waved his hand and with almost robotic efficiency, four men began setting up folding chairs and tables for everyone to sit at. The tables ended up pushed together, forming a long single table that looked typical of a boardroom. Irene and the reporter took the seats at one end, and you sat on the right side, between Jihye on your right and Gunwook on your left.

You looked at Jihye and examined her face for a moment. She didn’t seem nervous, or scared. Rather, she looked somewhat calm and impatient at the same time, as if she just wanted to grab her stuff, run away from there, and disappear. You understood that feeling, so you took her hand under the table.

But to your surprise, she didn’t reciprocate even though she always did. And you, after feeling another pang in your heart, let go of her hand and looked down at the table.

"Well, gentlemen," the SM representative began from the other side of the table. "I don't need to remind you why we're here." His gaze went to Irene and the reporter. "I respect your ambition, really. No one had ever managed to get the big companies to collaborate like this. So tell me, Bae Joohyun, what are you trying to achieve?"

"Hey!" the reporter shouted with a bang on the table, butting in. "She's not the only one you're negotiating with!"

The men in suits burst into laughter, Gunwook at your side in a somewhat more discreet manner. You and Jihye weren't amused in the slightest, in fact you didn't even understand why they were laughing so haughty and creepy.

The SM representative raised a hand, and silence fell again at the table.

"I'm afraid you're wrong," he said, still between small traces of laughter. "This isn't a negotiation. You're not even worthy of attention, mine or whoever else's at this table."

"I have the power here!" the reporter shouted back, very sure of his words. "I don't care what she says. I have the photos and enough information about the spa's clientele to have all of you in my pocket!"

"Oh yeah?" the SM delegate chuckled. "If you feel that powerful then go ahead and do it. Send your pathetic photos and publish your pathetic article. We won't stop you."

You looked up from the table and frowned at both the delegate and the reporter. Then you looked at Jihye, but again, she didn't seem the least bit fazed. You searched for her gaze to demand an explanation, but she avoided you. Lastly you looked at Irene, who did share the same terrified look as you.

The reporter pulled out his phone, causing absolute silence inside the hangar. Tension and uncertainty filled the air, but the only sources seemed to be you and Irene. The rest of the men, including Jihye, didn't seem worried. They looked more like orcas having fun with their prey before tearing it apart.

Minutes later the man set his phone down on the table, a triumphant smile on his face. The phones of the men in suits rang with notifications shortly after. The reporter laughed, thinking he had won the battle.

But the men in suits laughed louder than he did after checking their phones. The laughter reverberated through the hangar, like a malevolent chorus of demons rejoicing in the power they knew they had.

A creepy vibe entered your body and made you shudder immediately. You felt tiny. Helpless in that hostile environment where you felt like some really fucked up shit was simmering. A few hours ago you would think your solace would be Jihye, but she seemed to ignore your existence completely.

You were alone. In a deep pool of turbulent waters filled with sharks.

“I’ll spare you from having to read the message we all just received,” laughed the SM delegate, who then looked across the table at another big shot. HYBE or YG, most likely. “Haven’t you guys made a very generous contribution to Dispatch lately?”

That led you to think it must be the HYBE. YG was more disinterested in such matters.

“And not only that, the editor-in-chief and I are old college buddies,” the HYBE delegate nodded, in an exuberant display of arrogance.

“You see?” the SM delegate turned his gaze to the reporter. “I don’t think you understand, mate. What I mean is that you have no power over shit.” he pointed at his HYBE namesake. “That message we just received was from the editor-in-chief letting us know that neither your photos nor your article will see the light of day.”

The reporter and Irene suddenly found themselves backed into a corner, and you had a feeling that the knockout was coming soon.

“Just because Dispatch isn’t going to publish the article doesn’t mean other media won’t,” the reporter said with a nervous chuckle, somewhat desperate to somehow comfort himself.

“What?” The SM representative frowned, pretending he hadn't heard him correctly. "You mean the article you wrote about an illegal and scandalous spa that you and I operate?"

"Huh?" The reporter frowned, confused by that statement that even you couldn't understand. "What the fuck do you mean?"

"For fuck's sake," snorted another bigwig, who by elimination had to be the YG representative. "You think we don't know what goes on inside that fucking spa?" he asked, and slammed the table. "It's ours and we operate it! Through shell companies, of course."

Suddenly you felt like something was wrong with the way you perceived reality at that moment, as if a control tower inside your brain had failed. Did that mean...?

No, fuck. It couldn't be fucking possible.

"Oh, and I should add that I made sure that a certain judge's daughter passed our auditions." The YG representative added, bragging perhaps a little too much. "The good man paid us back by advancing some documents that showed a new owner of the spa. Can you guess who this new owner is?"

It had to be a lie, you were sure.

No, that wasn't the lie. Your job was the lie. Everything you had believed up until that moment was a fucking lie. Were you then... just another fucking pawn? Did they play puppet with you too? You clenched your fists under the table, unable to take it in.

"Do you understand what we want to tell you?" Gunwook asked at your side, for the first time in the entire meeting. "You are powerless. You have no control whatsoever. Just like the idols of our companies."

You were in complete shock, realizing that you had only been another puppet of the industry for much longer than you imagined. You weren't able to take it all in, it was too many revelations in too little time. You could only sink a little in your seat, staring blankly.

“How could you take their side?” Irene asked in a small voice, sounding betrayed, defeated. You didn’t need to look at her to know who she was addressing. “You may have moved on, but the reason I did all this in the first place was because of what these monsters did to us!”

Jihye swallowed thickly and pursed her lips to keep from opening her mouth. She stared at the ceiling lights, nervously moving her leg up and down.

“What did the monsters do to you, Joohyun?” the SM representative asked, in a tone so passive-aggressive that it made your hair stand on end. “Make you a global icon? Make you incredibly wealthy?” he slowly raised his tone of voice with each question. “Make you the face of major global fashion companies? Make thousands upon thousands of people look up to you?!”

“You took my love away, motherfucker!” She screamed, standing up with both hands on the table. “YOU TOOK HER FROM ME!” She pointed at Jihye.

Her words were so heartbreaking that you couldn’t help but feel sympathy for her. If only the images of Ning running out of the dressing room in tears and Minjeong cowering on the couch weren’t burned into your memory, maybe you would have even come to her defense.

Jihye moved her leg faster, and you noticed in her hand how she was trembling. All of this was tearing her apart too, you knew her more than well. You wanted to be able to reassure her somehow, but this was not the place or the time.

And you weren't sure she would have accepted it either.

"So we finally got to where you wanted us to," the SM representative said. "You don't really care about the industry. You just wanted to make us feel guilty and end up just like now. Us here while you express your love for Jihye."

Jihye twisted her head and clenched her fist, visibly cringing at the man calling her by her real name.

"As I was saying," the SM representative continued with a sigh, in a terrifying serenity as if this was just a child's game. "I admire your ambition and your ingenuity. But from a public relations point of view it is much better to handle this matter internally than just terminating your contract and ruining your image," he turned to look at Jihye. "Tell her about the agreement we've reached, Noze."

"No..." you said quietly, realizing that this was when everything would break off.

Jihye stood up and raised her hand, still trembling. Her lower lip was quivering as well.

"I, Noh Jihye, resign from my position as Aespa's manager..." she gulped and squeezed her eyes shut. "And I am honored to accept my new role as division manager for all girl groups under SM Entertainment."

That was the final blow, but not for Irene or the reporter. For you. The multiple stabs in your heart had now turned into one, accurate shot. Betrayal always hurt when it came from the front, but this was like a stab in the back, full of rage. And the worst: it came from the person you loved.

True friends stab you in the front.

Jihye then left your side and walked to sit on Irene's left. You couldn't take your eyes off her, and she knew it, which is why she kept staring at the floor. She was afraid that if she looked into your eyes she would break.

"The four delegates here assured me that they will not interfere in our relationship anymore," Jihye continued, her gaze downcast, kicking you to the ground when you were already unconscious. "No more threats. No more changes in our careers. They will also move to the main office so that I can be here in Seoul with you."

Irene didn't believe it much more than you did. She kept looking at Jihye as if she had gone completely crazy.

"W-what?" she said.

"It will be hard for me to forgive you for all the harm you have caused," Jihye said, a robotic and emotionless tone that led you to think that this was all scripted. "But I know that you did it out of love. We can fix it."

All of that could have been previously agreed upon against Jihye's will, but still, the stab wound hurt like hell, especially since it was still open and receiving blows. So without thinking, you tried to stand up to intervene in all of that, but Gunwook pulled you down by the hoodie and physically prevented you from doing so.

He approached your ear, still holding on to you despite your attempts to get away.

"Trust us," he said, and you had no choice but to swallow dirt and stay still.

"All they ask in return is that the evidence be handed over to them," Jihye continued. "Photos, articles, videos. Everything."

"B-but!" the reporter stood up. "This is not..."

"Shut up!" Irene shouted, cutting him off short. "I'll make it up to you for everything, I promise," she then looked at the SM representative. "We accept the terms."

The SM delegate tapped the table with his knuckles and leaned back in his seat. The cocky grin on his face made you want to jump over the table and knock out every single tooth in him.

“See? Easy,” he said, and looked at all of you present. “I love happy endings, don’t you?”

All the men at the table burst out laughing again, except for you and the reporter.

“Well,” the SM delegate said again. “Can someone take Noze and Irene to the main offices so they can sign their NDAs and have Noze sign the paperwork for her new job which, I might add, comes with a pretty hefty raise?”

Two of the men flanking the SM delegate stepped forward and went to Jihye and Irene, who stood up and were led out of the hangar and into the car.

You just stared at Jihye as she left, still unable to believe that the most wonderful woman you'd ever met had done that to you. And not just to you, but to the girls she claimed to love.

It all seemed like a fucking nightmare. A very fucked up one.

"Next business," the SM delegate said, now looking at the reporter. "Very well, we all know that Irene will more than compensate you. And from the kind of scum we all know you are here, I think that's all you care about."

The reporter gulped and slammed the table, clearly still furious.

"You're not getting away with..."

The SM delegate leaned forward and clasped his hands on the table, looking at him over his sunglasses. That was enough to shut up the reporter.

"Once she's paid you, you'll leave the country, never come back, and you'll stay away from any overseas activities that any of the companies at this table handle," he said menacingly, letting the reporter know that he was on the tightrope. "I think we've made enough of a display of our might for you to know that we're not to be messed with."

The reporter, acknowledging defeat, sat down and crossed his arms.

“Alright, alright…” he grumbled. “I accept the terms.”

The SM delegate returned to his natural position and placed his hands on his thighs.

“Take his phone, give him his plane ticket, and get his stinking ass out of here,” he ordered.

A new team of men went with the reporter and escorted him out of the hangar, in a not-so-gentle manner. You could almost say they kicked his ass out.

All the shock caused by Jihye’s betrayal made you ignore the fact that you were now alone in the snake pit. You only took it in when the SM delegate locked his gaze on you.

“And finally, the last matter,” he said, and looked you up and down as if you were a piece of shit. “What do we do with this upstart who doesn’t know his place? We let him fuck our idols, we pay for his fucking plane ticket, and how does he pay us back? By getting us into this fucking mess.”

Before you could open your mouth and bring up how sharp your tongue felt at the moment, Gunwook poked you in the thigh to shut you up.

“Come on, Sanghyeok,” Gunwook said. “Why torture the poor guy? We’ve all already agreed on what we’d do with him.” He looked at you. “I’d also say we owe him a pat on the back, don’t you think? He took care of our idols as discreetly as he could and made sure this whole thing stayed under our control.”

“Gunwook!” the HYBE manager complained with a chuckle. “It would have been fun to see him squirm a bit before we told him what we had planned for him.”

The anger you felt at how those bastards talked about you like you were a toy made your blood boil like hot lava. But that only made you realize that that was just a portion of what both trainees and idols must have felt over the years.

They were trash. You were surrounded by fucking trash. Scum that didn't deserve the slightest bit of respect. They disgusted you.

"I guess you have a point, and I'm already tired of being here." Sanghyeok, the SM representative, admitted, then looked at you. "Alright kid, you have two options: you can sign the NDAs we have right here and never interact with any idols ever again..."

"I don't think we need to tell you what would happen to you if you broke that agreement," the HYBE representative added, to which you didn't even look at him.

"Or," Sanghyeok continued. “You can run your own contracting company focused on cultural integration and consultation. Of course this will all be a facade, for you to solve the problems we’d like to stay away from and for you to continue fucking our assets.”

Of all the things you heard that day, for some reason that was the one that left you the most baffled. Running your own company? What the hell was that fucker talking about?

“I’m sure I’m wasting my time asking, but what do you choose, kid?” he insisted.

Gunwook put a hand in front of you and again stopped you from answering yourself.

“Hey, hey, why don’t we give him a set of both documents and I’ll advise him on both options before he signs anything?” he proposed.

Luckily for you all the big fish agreed, and then the session was finally adjourned after two folders were handed to you. The tables were pushed back, as were all the chairs. Gunwook escorted you out, while you did nothing but glare at each of the bastards as they drove away.

"Sit in the passenger seat, please," Gunwook said as you approached the car.

You agreed and climbed into the passenger seat. Gunwook climbed into the car as well, and looked at you after a heavy sigh.

"I'm sorry, I'm sure that was hard to watch," he said, then started the car.

You didn't know how to respond. You didn't even know how to feel at that moment, with so many emotions churning inside you and isolating you from reality.

Jihye had betrayed you, dammit. And not only that, she had agreed to get back together with the person who hurt her so much in the first place. You were sure a kick in the balls could have hurt less at the time.

"Well, luckily everything went according to Noze's plan," Gunwook said, driving on the way to the airport. "I certainly owe that woman one."

You frowned and turned to look at him.

"Her plan was to betray me in the worst way possible and spit me on the ground once dead?" you asked. "That's fucking bullshit, mate." you looked out the window again.

Gunwook sighed.

"Did you know Noze and my little sister used to be trainees together?" he asked, staring ahead. "My little sister developed a really bad case of anxiety and an eating disorder because of that life. But that never stopped Noze from wanting to take care of her like she was his own sister."

You turned to look at him and realized that it hurt him to talk about it. So you politely paid attention.

"It was a tough time," he continued. "My little sister really kept hitting rock bottom, over and over again, but Noze was always there for her. Even when..." he started to say something, but swallowed hard and took it back. "Anyway, the reason I'm telling you this is so you know you can trust me. I know what my coworkers are capable of."

"You didn't seem to disagree with anything they said."

"What would you have done in my place?" Gunwook asked. "Get up, insult every single one of them, and screw everything up? That's not how it works, kid. You gotta be a little hypocritical in this life every now and then. It'll keep you afloat with certain people."

"Are you afraid of what they might do to you for being rebellious or what?"

"I've seen a lot of shit, mate. Dark shit. Of course I'm afraid," he said. "That's why I stay out of the way and work under the table."

"I guess I can't judge you then," you said with a shrug, and looked ahead.

"Besides, this was Noze's idea too," he said.

"The what?"

"Me sharing our past with you. She said she knew it would be just what you needed to hear."

You couldn't help but let out a disbelieving chuckle, and looked out the window again.

"It doesn't heal the knife wound, but I appreciate it."

When you arrived at the airport, Gunwook was considerate enough to walk you to the point where you would have to go through the re-entry process. Before you left, he grabbed your forearm.

"Boy, I'm asking you, Noze is asking you," he looked you in the eyes. "Take the job, and do everything in your power to protect the girls." He squeezed your forearm, not in a rough way, but rather affectionately. "It's your decision, and if you want to just leave we will respect it. But we need your help."

"Gunwook... I-I..."

"I'll call you tomorrow to discuss the details and explain everything," he interrupted you with a gentle wave of his hand. "But you must know that with or without you, this whole thing with Irene was just the first battle. The industry is about to go to war."

With that said, he nodded at you and let go of your forearm to go back the way he came, leaving you with a nest of angry hornets in your head that didn't let you think clearly.

It was all fucking overwhelming. You would never have imagined carrying a weight of that magnitude on your shoulders in your life, and you certainly weren't prepared for it. All things considered, it was like sending a poor, inexperienced 17-year-old bastard straight into a trench in 1916. Maybe you were exaggerating and it wasn't that bad, but it wasn't what you had in mind when you agreed to go on tour with Aespa.

Speaking of Aespa, you weren't surprised to find Rina waiting for you once you went through the re-entry process. Amidst all the shit that day, seeing her was like seeing your guardian angel. A safe place at last.

"God, you're finally here!" she said as you approached, taking steps towards you. "What happened? How was everything? Where's Jihye?"

Your only response was to hug her tightly and bury your face in her neck. She must have figured this wasn't the time to ask questions, so she just hugged you back and rubbed your back.

"Where are the girls?" you asked after a few long seconds, still clinging to her.

"They distracted the fans at the airport so I could wait for you." Rina replied softly, stroking the hair on the back of your neck.

You pulled away from her with your arms still around her waist so you could look into her eyes. She looked back at you, visibly worried.

"I promise to tell you everything," you assured, and squeezed her waist. "But really, I'm exhausted and I need to process all of this."

"It's okay, honey," she nodded, and pulled you in to kiss your forehead. "Let's go."

Rina led you outside, where a vehicle with tinted windows and a driver was waiting for you. You got into the back seats.

“Do you want to go to your apartment or ITZY’s house to see Chaery?” Rina asked you, removing her hood and mask.

Fuck, the ITZY girls. You hadn’t even let them know you were back in the country. They weren’t expecting you until the next day.

“My apartment,” you answered immediately, still overwhelmed by it all. “I’m not sure I can look Chaery in the eye right now.”

Rina leaned in to examine your face in a small moment of silence.

“Does it have to do with your mood back in Mexico City?” she ventured, knowing you perhaps too well.

As the car pulled away you took a deep breath and sank into the seat with your arms crossed, staring out the window. And before you knew it, you were telling Rina everything that happened that morning between you and Jihye. It wasn't hard to tell; you remembered every word she had said to you. Unfortunately.

"Fuck..." she said under her breath, and sank down into the seat with you to wrap an arm around your abdomen and hug you, her cheek resting on your arm. "Sounds like you need a bros night."

"I couldn't agree more," you said, and uncrossed your arm to wrap it around her.

You and Rina took a short ten-minute nap, until you were woken up by the driver letting you know you had reached your destination. You looked up and looked out the window, immediately recognizing the ground floor of your building.

"Hey, at least tell me something," she grabbed your arm. "Someone hit Irene?"

"I wish." you replied with a disappointed sigh.

Rina snorted.

“That’s a fucking shame,” she let go of your arm, and you opened the door to get out. “Hey, get some sleep okay? I’ll be ready to talk whenever you want.”

“What about the girls?” you asked, hand on the top edge of the door. “They’ll want to know.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Rina said. “I’ll keep them at bay until you feel comfortable sharing the details.”

“Alright,” you nodded. “Thanks, Jiminie, really.”

She gave you a loving smirk, and blew you a kiss.

“Nothing to thank, silly.” she said. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Okay.” You smiled back, and then closed the door to let the car drive off.

Going up to your apartment you hoped you could find some peace of mind in the comfort of your place. After all, you'd been gone for a couple of months, anyone would have breathed a deep sigh of relief.

But as soon as you opened that door and stepped through the threshold, your first instinct was to walk straight to your couch, sit down, and sink into tears with your hands on your head.

None of it made sense to you; you couldn't wrap your head around it. You still wanted to believe that it was all a bad dream that would pass at any moment, and that you would wake up next to Jihye in Mexico City as if nothing had happened.

Everything had rotted. Everything.

Between heartbroken sobs you couldn't do anything else but stare at the ceiling, wondering why everything had to turn out that way. Was anything with Jihye real? Did she lie to you all this time? No, fuck, it couldn't be. You weren't even prepared for what was coming, much less did you know if you wanted to find out.

Rina. You needed her. But you hadn't the slightest idea how to break all the news to her; it made your stomach turn just remembering all that. To top it off, you didn't know if it was the right thing to do to tell them everything. That job belonged to someone else.

But that damn person had to be on her way to SM's offices, holding hands with her ex.

No. Not her ex. Her girlfriend. Again.

You couldn't call Rina, not at that moment. So you turned to the only other person you knew you could trust and vent to. You took out your phone to text Yeji.

With that done, you were finally able to calm your sobs. You didn't have the energy for anything else at that moment, even though you were hungry. You just got up from the couch, went to your room and laid there like a sack of potatoes. Your eyes were burning from crying so much, so it wasn't hard for you to fall asleep.

When you woke up you weren't next to Jihye, unfortunately. It had all really happened, and it still felt like the worst nightmare you'd ever had in your life.

But fuck it. You had to face that head on. There was no point in drowning in a glass of water. Things had to work out, by hook or by crook, and it was not the time to be downcast. You would force yourself to get out of that damn bed and get ahead.

You grabbed your phone and sighed in relief when you saw that you hadn't slept too late; it was barely 7PM. You got into Yeji's chat, just to ask her what time she'd be coming over. However, you hadn't even finished typing the message when your apartment doorbell rang.

You got out of bed and walked out of your room straight to the door. When you opened it, Yeji was waiting for you under the threshold with two bags in her hands, dressed in comfy sweatpants and an oversized white hoodie. She wasn't wearing any makeup, and yet she still managed to look stupidly gorgeous.

"Hi!" she smiled from ear to ear, and you automatically did too, having missed that cute cat smile so much.

You didn't even have time to say hello back when she walked inside as if the apartment was hers. She walked into your living room as you closed the door, setting the two bags on top of your circular coffee table and striding over to give you a hug that felt like a breath of fresh air.

“Hey, light fury.” you said softly, squeezing her tight in your arms.

“Do you know how much I missed you, donkey?” she asked, her head on your shoulder. “A lot.”

“And I missed you too, sweetheart.” you replied. “These two months felt like an eternity.”

Yeji pulled away from you and nodded toward the coffee table.

“I brought beer,” she said. “And Lia made you food.”

“Wait what?” you frowned. “Didn’t I tell you not to tell anyone? How did Lia know to make me dinner?”

Yeji made an awkward face and scratched the back of her neck.

"About that... well, I had no choice." she shrugged. "Before I could come up with an excuse to justify being out until morning, Lia came to my room."

You sighed and walked over to the bags to find the one with the tupperwares.

"She and the girls were planning a welcome back surprise for you..." Yeji said, turning to you.

"Which isn't a surprise anymore." you interrupted her, stacking up the three tuperwares.

"No, certainly not." she agreed with a sigh, arms akimbo. "But the thing is, she wanted to know if I wanted to go shopping for swimsuits and party supplies with them, so I had to tell her so she'd cover for me."

As you opened the tupperware your stomach growled, and in your head you blessed Lia in the name of every god you knew. One had bibimbap, the other had kimchi jjigae, and the last had japchae with marinated spinach. The bag also had two metal chopsticks. Everything looked delicious.

“Chaery looked so adorable,” she said with a giggle. “She wanted everything to be perfect, and she was even baking you a cake.”

You hated the fact that Chaery had gone to all that trouble for nothing, but you smiled as you imagined her yelling at everyone while she was in the kitchen. She was just too cute.

“So?” you prompted her to continue, sitting down on the couch.

“Nothing, Lia told the girls that Rina told me you wouldn’t be landing tomorrow due to flight issues.”

You looked down and let out a deep breath.

“I’m sorry for making you lie,” you said, chopsticks in your hand as you looked at the food. “And especially for bringing Lia into this too.”

“Oh don’t worry.” she walked over to one of your counters, where you had your record player. “Just don’t make it a habit. Now eat, your food is going to get cold and Lia put a lot of effort into it.”

Your stomach was growling so much that you didn’t need her to tell you twice. First you tried the bibimbap, some zucchini with some beef. Fucking delicious, as was the kimchi and the japchae.

While you ate, Yeji began to examine your vinyl records. You trusted that she would know how to operate the record player, so you just let her choose. In the end she opted for a jazz classic: Time Out by The Dave Brubeck Quartet. A choice you didn’t expect but appreciated.

She then sat down next to you and crossed her legs to look at you.

“Alright, honey, what’s wrong?” she asked as you chewed on some pork.

You knew you had to be as brief as possible, but in the end you ended up telling her every detail: everything Irene had done, what she had put Minjeong through, why you had unexpectedly returned, and finally, what happened at the meeting that morning.

By the end of your story Yeji was speechless, unable to take in any of what you had told her. A living reflection of what you felt. In her eyes you could see that she was waiting for you to tell her that some of it was a lie, but you wish you could.

"What the fuck..." she said quietly, her gaze lost. "I mean, Irene does have a point, but taking advantage of her hoobaes like that? That's fucking vile."

"I know." you replied, finishing the jjigae.

“I’ve teased the NMIXX girls too, but I’ve made sure to never hurt them,” she leaned back and sank into her seat. “I love those girls like they’re my little sisters, and I’d kill for them just as much as I would for ITZY.”

“Well… I have to admit,” you covered two tupperware containers and focused on the japchae. “That even though I was so fucking upset, seeing Irene so fragile while talking about what the industry had taken from her made me feel some…” you took a moment to measure your words. “Sympathy for her. A smidge.”

That statement caused an awkward silence between the two of you, with nothing but the third track from the record, Take Five, playing.

“So… how are the girls of Aespa handling the loss of their manager?” she finally asked.

“I haven’t told them that,” you admitted. “I thought Noze deserved the right to break the news to them herself.”

Yeji stood up suddenly, startling you.

“HOW COULD YOU HIDE THAT FROM THEM?!” she yelled at you, and you just hung your head like a scolded dog. “The only relationship that’s more important than the one we have with our manager is the one with the members themselves!”

“Yeah, yeah, I get that,” you said, both hands up as if she was going to hit you at any moment. “But Noze and them have been together since day one, and I honestly didn’t feel like going through any more shit today.”

Recalling everything you’d told her, Yeji resigned herself and sat back down beside you to rub your back. But you knew she was right.

“Look, I know we’re close friends and all, and I definitely don’t want to be rude or nosy,” she said. “But… why did you want to spend time with me tonight and not Chaery?”

"Well..."

Your doorbell rang, and with it two knocks.

You frowned in confusion and looked at Yeji, wondering if she had invited anyone else.

Three more knocks, this time louder and more frantic. Yeji then looked at you, also confused and even a bit scared, you might say. You stood up to walk to the door.

"Are you expecting anyone else?" she asked behind you, and you just shook your head with your hand on the doorknob.

Your heart started to beat fast. There were very few people who knew where you lived, including the reporter. Had the bastard returned to take revenge and pay you back? Ready to open it and beat him to a pulp, you suddenly opened the door.

Only to find the four Aespa girls, their beautiful and innocent faces lighting up once they saw you. They were all wearing casual clothes, and you could tell by the looks on their faces that they had taken a well-deserved break upon arriving.

“I’m so sorry for the surprise,” Rina told you with a nervous little smile, before you could say anything, and then held up the bags she was carrying for you to see. “But we brought soju.”

Before you could say anything—again—Yeji ran up from the couch and elbowed you aside to hug all the Aespa girls. They were taken aback at first, but then recognized who she was.

“Gosh, I’m so glad you girls got here safely,” Yeji said, as she was pulled into everyone’s arms. “I’m so sorry for everything you had to go through.”

“We’re sorry for showing up unannounced.” Rina said, and then giggled. “And interrupting whatever was going on.”

You locked eyes with Ning, who blew you a cute little kiss, then Minjeong, who gave you a cute little smile, and finally Aeri, who just made a V with her fingers.

“Can you guys come in?” you said. “The air conditioning is going out.”

You stepped aside to let the five of them in. They all went to sit on the couch. Yeji was the only one who had to sit on the single couch. And you, well, you stayed standing.

“We’ve been texting and calling Noze since we woke up,” Rina said, her forearms resting on her knees. “She never checked in at the dorm manager’s area.”

You and Yeji locked eyes. And you took a deep breath, hands on your waist.

“Look, I know you don’t feel like repeating what happened this morning, but the girls and I are worried about Noze,” Rina said, concerned. "We just want to know if she's okay."

You looked at Yeji again, who just nodded.

"Time for some courage, sweetheart," she said, then stood up to give you her seat. "I'll go to your room to call Lia and you know, tell her you're okay and tell her everything that happened."

You nodded and sat in Yeji's place as she walked down the hall and to your room. So you stayed with the Aespa girls, and damn, it was hard to look them in the eyes with all you had to say.

"Mother of God, where do I start..." you took a deep breath, and brought your hands together to your mouth and nose.

It was hard for you, but you ended up touching on every topic: Jihye's resignation, how she didn't tell you the whole plan, what happened with the reporter, and finally, how she left the hangar with Irene. By the time you finished you felt like you had spat blade after blade from your throat. That's how uncomfortable it was for you. You didn't break down crying again because you had to be strong, but you were close.

In all of them you recognized the feeling of being betrayed, you knew it by their looks, because it was the same one you had earlier. You expected some of them to burst into tears or even make a scene of rage, but no, they were so shocked that they barely blinked. And honestly, it was the most logical reaction for you.

“I guess there’s nothing we can do now…” said Ning, who was the first to speak. She was the one who looked the closest to tears, but she was surprisingly strong.

“We’ve always relied on Noze for everything,” Minjeong said, looking at all of them. “And I think… well, I think it’s not the time to question her.”

Minjeong could say that, but in her low voice you could tell she felt a disappointment so great that it overwhelmed her. The same could be said about Ning.

Rina nodded and turned to Aeri, who had her gaze lost on the floor. You noticed one of her hands shaking. She was not only disappointed, but also furious. You were sure she wasn’t making a scene just because she was in your apartment.

“Gigi, can you make sure the girls get home safely?” she asked. “I’ll be there in the morning.”

“And why don’t you come with us?” Aeri asked back. "I'm the dad who can't take care of two whiny brats and panics easily, and you know it."

"I know that, but my bro and I have a conversation that's been pending for a while."

Aeri sighed and stood up. Ning and Minjeong followed her.

"Alright, just come back tomorrow before noon," Aeri said. "I refuse to cook lunch."

Aeri went with you and leaned down to give you a peck on the cheek. Minjeong was a little more affectionate and cupped your face to do the same. Ning on the other hand went a step higher and took your chin to plant a small kiss on your lips. You grabbed her forearm before she left with Aeri and Minjeong.

"I'll call you, okay?" you told her.

"You know I'll always answer, dear." she nodded, her lips curled into a weak smile. Then you let go of her so she could leave with the girls.

Once you were alone with Rina, she stood up and went to sit on the right side of your lap, wrapping her left arm around your shoulders.

"Well, there's no point in thinking about what happened this morning anymore, but..." she paused as she rubbed your back. "I never got to talk to you about what was bothering you in Mexico City."

Just then Yeji appeared out of the hallway. You looked at her and let out a sigh.

"Good thing you two are here for that."

"For what?" Yeji asked, going to sit on the other side of your lap. It felt good to have them both there, but your legs were going to fall asleep at any moment.

"Oh girl, just listen because it's fucked up."

You hated having to spit it all out again, but you had no choice. You blurted out everything as quickly as you could without letting too many details slip: the incident between you and Jihye, what she said to you and how she even made you question if all of this was fair to Chaery and Ning, and even to the two of them.

Only this time you couldn't hold back a couple of tears, realizing how desperate the situation was.

"Oh honey..." Yeji said sadly, cupping your face with one hand and wiping a tear away with her thumb. "Yeah, it's certainly a fucked up situation."

"God, I hate that you have to go through this, you don't deserve it." Rina said as well, stroking your hair. "Look, you're technically unemployed now, so your career can't put you in an awkward situation anymore. It's up to you who you want to be with, right?"

"Yeah well..." you then stared at the bags piled up on the table. "It would be a shame if we let the beer and soju get warm, wouldn't it?"

Having to keep your new job offer from them sucked, but you hadn't even made a decision yet, so it would be best to keep everything under the table for the moment before jumping to conclusions.

"Yup, I think the three of us deserve a drink," Yeji said, giving you a peck on the side of your head before standing up. "Do you have any shot glasses?"

You shrugged.

"I don't know, look in the kitchen," you said. "I guess I do."

"And I, if you'll excuse me, am going to turn on the Switch," Rina said, giving you a peck on the cheek before standing up and walking over to the TV. "Help me?"

As you and Rina turned on the Switch and TV and set everything up, Yeji came back with the three shot glasses and set them on the table.

“I had to wash them; they were dusty.” she said, standing behind two of you. “Hey, you have a Jenga right? I thought I saw one in your room.”

“Indeed,” you nodded, turning on three joy-cons before setting them down on the coffee table. “Give me a sec.”

You quickly went to your room to get the Jenga game. It was also somewhat dusty; you had to blow it off and wipe the pieces a bit with your hand before walking out and setting it down on the table. Yeji and Rina were waiting for you on the couch, with the three shot glasses already filled with Soju.

The vinyl record Yeji had put on had worn out a while ago, so before you sat down with them, you went to your record player and put on a new one: Too Low For Zero by Elton John. Another classic that you definitely needed to hear right now.

You finally took a seat between the two of them as they grabbed their glasses.

“A little warm-up round before we start,” Rina said, picking up the glass before downing it.

“Geonbae!” Yeji toasted, before downing her drink as well. You followed suit.

That was just the beginning of the fierce drinking olympics that was coming up. Of course you played Jenga first, a game that Yeji turned out to be hilariously terrible at, so she drank the most. You and Rina drank a couple of times as well, but Yeji had to down like six shots.

You then played Two Truths and a Lie, which made you realize how good Rina really was at lying and messing with other people's minds. She had you and Yeji as weak links, drinking over and over again for not guessing almost any of her lies correctly.

You got your revenge when you played Caps, a game where you sat apart from each other in a triangle to throw bottle caps into glasses in front of you, and the player who got a cap in, had to drink. Rina turned out to have a pathetic aim, and the only two caps she managed to hit were more luck than anything else. You and Yeji, on the other hand, were Deadshot and made her drink non-stop.

"Aight stop it!" Rina shrieked, already pissed off. "Let's have some real fun, I don't like this anymore!"

You and Yeji couldn’t stop laughing, forced to stop when Rina glared at you.

“Alright, alright,” you said, controlling your giggles. “What do you propose?”

“Beerio Kart,” Rina said. “But striptease.”

“Uhhh,” Yeji butted in. “I was hoping you’d say something like that.”

“At your own risk, then,” you said with a shrug and standing up.

The three of you grabbed your Joy-Cons, popped open your beers, and quickly set the rules, which were pretty simple. The most notable being that the person who failed to finish their beer before the race had to take off an item of clothing.

And you were just too good; you kept winning, over and over again until you had Yeji and Rina in nothing but a bra and panties. But they, being the devilish and competitive duo you knew they were, teamed up to play dirty and stop you from winning so easily. That turned the tables on you too quickly, and without even noticing, you were the first one to be completely naked. With a hard boner in full view of the two of them, caused by the semi-nakedness of that pair of hot perfect bodies.

"Hey, you remember what I told you the last time we drank, right?" Rina said next to you, with a mocking giggle.

She was on your right, lying on her side and leaning up on her elbow as she played. You didn't hesitate for a single second to grab her head with one hand and shove it down against your cock, hard and without gentleness. Rina took every inch without complaint, until her nose rested on your pubis.

Yeji giggled with her gaze fixed on the screen.

"I'm glad to know I'm not the only one he gets rough with," she teased.

You let go of Rina's head and she was free to pull out for a deep breath. But that didn't stop her from continuing to suck half of your cock in slow pumps, focusing on the race as well.

"God," you gasped, trying to focus. "Enough of the games. I want to fuck you two."

Rina pulled you out of her mouth and looked up to share a small smirk with Yeji.

"There's just one little problem with that, sweetheart," Yeji said. "Neither of us are completely naked yet."

"You have to earn it," Rina added, giving your cock a peck before focusing completely on the race.

They had you in constant agony to win race after race, as they kept playing dirty like the vile rats they were. In some races Rina kept sucking your cock, moaning on purpose just to drive you crazy. In others Yeji masturbated while downing the beer, knowing that her cold hand would make you shiver.

In another race they took it further and took advantage of your weakness for pretty feet, and both of them put their legs up on the couch just to alternate from side to side and give you footjobs. At times it was just Rina's feet, at others it was just Yeji's, but the craziest you went was when they used their feet at the same time to stimulate every part of your cock.

Eventually that pace became unsustainable for them, and it only took one short moment of extreme concentration for you to finally win that race.

As soon as you crossed the finish line and knew victory was yours, you threw the joycon on the table and grabbed Yeji's legs by the calves to shove one of her feet into your mouth.

"About time you got serious, huh?" Yeji teased, reaching behind her back to take off her bra and free her pair of nice perky tits.

"It only took him four races." Rina laughed beside you, caressing your balls with her toes.

After sucking, licking and kissing both the soles of Yeji's feet and her toes, you helped her take off her panties and then went to repeat the process with Rina, who had already taken off both her bra and panties and was waiting for you with her pretty feet up.

Yeji settled herself on the couch and positioned her head facing you, lying on top of your left thigh to take your cock in her hand and take it into her mouth. You, meanwhile, focused on Rina's soft, pretty feet, caressing the tops of her thighs and moving up to grab her tits with strong squeezes.

Having had your fill of her feet, you moved away and she adopted the same position on the couch as Yeji, her arm over your thigh to pepper the side of your cock with kisses and licks while Yeji sucked the tip up and down, pumping it faster and sloppier. Rina followed that trend as soon as it was her turn to have you inside her mouth, only she took in more inches with each pump, until soon your cock was soaked in a combination of both of their thick saliva.

You extended both arms out to the sides and ran your hands down their delicious bodies. Your caresses went from their backs, down their arms and all the way to their hips, where you then just squeezed their buttocks before leaving your hands there. But the excellent job they were doing on your cock made you want to reward them by running your fingers between their butt cheeks and rubbing both their butt holes and pussies.

"Alright, enough." you panted after less than a minute. "Let's go to bed so I can eat you out comfortably."

"Mmm, yes daddy, as you order." Rina said, pulling you out of her mouth, spitting the accumulated saliva onto your tip.

"Are you gonna make me call him that too?" Yeji asked, collecting the saliva Rina had just spit out to spread it over the side of your cock. "I don't refuse, honestly," she looked up at you. "What do you think, daddy?"

"I think you two better get up and walk straight to the bedroom before I go crazy," you gave Yeji a small spank.

"Coming on, daddy," Rina laughed, standing up from the couch and wobbling a bit. It was worth noting that by this point the three of you were walking the fine line between drunk and just turned on. “No need to get grumpy.”

Yeji and Rina held hands and headed straight down the hall to your room. You took a moment, just to pick up the things scattered on the table and turn off the TV and the console before going into the room with them.

You found them wrapped around each other with arms and thighs intertwined, sharing a fierce and sensual kiss that only fueled the flame inside you. They broke the kiss and Yeji turned to look at you with a mischievous smile, while Rina showered her neck with kisses and groped her.

If that was a way to hurry you, then it had worked perfectly, because you threw yourself into the bed like a hungry leopard. First you got between Yeji's legs to get on top of her and lower your mouth directly to her tits, which you kissed and sucked before going up and kissing her.

Rina put her hand between your bodies and reached for your cock to take it and stroke it, now being the one who was eating Yeji's tits while you two were making out. But soon you gave her her turn, directly grabbing her chin to crash your lips together.

In the middle of your kiss with Rina you brought a hand between her thighs and rubbed her pussy up and down before rubbing it in circles. She continued to move her hand on your cock, while you received kisses on your shoulders and neck from Yeji. Then you broke the kiss and moved down to Rina's heavy, round tits to eat them.

Once you had your starter with both of their tits, you decided to move on to the main course. You kissed Yeji again, but just a couple of seconds later you moved down to her cute belly to cover it all over with wet kisses. Before long you were now between her legs, and you grabbed her thighs to push them back and plant your mouth on her wet pussy.

"Oh fuck yeah..." Yeji moaned, arching her back and gripping the pillow behind her head. "I missed that sexy ass fucking mouth so much."

And you certainly missed that nice, delicious pussy, but instead of putting it into words you did it by eating it hungrily, reflecting the whole time you spent without even laying a finger on her. She let you know she loved it by tangling her fingers in your hair and giving it light tugs.

"Daddy's mouth is amazing huh?" Rina teased, lying face down with one knee drawn up as she had one of Yeji's tits inside her mouth. "I had it whenever I wanted for two months, and even a whole weekend."

"Mmmgh then I congratulate you," Yeji gasped, gently twisting her hips as you gave her clit quick licks. "But now daddy's back with me, and I'm not going to let you off easy."

"I don't think there's a problem with that," Rina replied, and you listened as they kissed, Yeji muffling moans against her lips. "Daddy has no problem fucking us both as much as we want, right daddy?"

"No problem at all." you replied, and you pulled away from Yeji's pussy to now go right, pressing Rina's ass cheek up and burying your mouth in her also shiny and silky pussy.

Rina moaned against Yeji's lips and pulled away to look down at you, while you ate her pussy from behind and groped both of her soft ass cheeks. Yeji then began to kiss her tits and neck, but she also put a hand between her thighs and rubbed her clit.

You could have spent the whole night between pussy and pussy feasting and satisfying your hunger for wet flesh, but your cock was so hard that it was starting to hurt. As a measure you adopted what they were most waiting for, and the first to taste it, of course, would be the one who went the longest without you in the first place.

"Tell me something, little cheshire," you said, kneeling up with one hand rubbing your cock. "How long have you been waiting for this?"

Yeji stared at your cock and spread her legs wide for you, massaging her own tits.

"Two fucking months daddy." she replied, biting her bottom lip. "Two months where I didn't have that delicious, juicy cock inside me."

You knelt between her legs and slowly rubbed the back of your cock between her wet folds. She looked into your eyes, holding her legs by the back of her knees.

"So what should I do, baby?" You now grabbed your cock and rubbed the tip up and down, teasing her entrance.

"Fuck me so hard that I can't walk properly tomorrow?" she asked with a moan. "Please? Please daddy, please!"

Not wanting to see her whimper anymore in pleas you grabbed your cock and finally pressed it forward. Yeji's tight pussy met you with only a little resistance, but within seconds you were burying yourself inch by inch inside her.

"Mmmgh yeah daddy put it all inside me!" she moaned, looking straight into your eyes, before you gave one last hard thrust to take your entire length all the way in. "Fuck!! Yes!!"

With your cock resting all the way in her pussy you let out a satisfied moan, realizing how much you truly missed her. It felt like picking up an addiction, and this was a dangerous one.

You removed Yeji's hands from behind her knees and replaced them with your own, pressing her legs back as you gave her the first few slow thrusts, which did nothing but make you both moan equally. Rina made no complaints and looked at you biting her lower lip, turned on by how the two of you were having pleasure. She pressed herself against Yeji's side and kissed her, groping her tits as well.

As you began to move your hips faster, you let go of Yeji's legs and leaned forward to plant them on either side of her torso, getting a close-up view of her and Rina swirling their tongues together and kissing. Rina then pulled away from Yeji's lips and raised her back enough to reach yours. You gladly accepted the kiss, but you also went harder on Yeji.

"Oh fuck fuck fuck!!" Yeji whimpered, your cock going all the way in and out of her tight walls and shaking her back and forth. "Harder daddy! Harder!! Yes!!"

You were forced to pull away from Rina's lips so you could focus entirely on Yeji. You straightened your back, and grabbed her legs to bring them together, holding her thighs and pressing them fully against her upper body. You were now thrusting hard up and down, filling your room with the sounds of flesh slapping together.

"Mmmmgh!!" Yeji squealed, biting the side of one hand and gripping the sheets beneath her with the other. She then released the hand she was biting and swatted it back to the bed to grab the sheet with it as well before arching her back. "Yesss!! FUCK!!"

After a few more thrusts Yeji exploded in spasms and violent contractions, covering her mouth with one hand to stifle screams of pleasure against it. Rina watched every detail with dilated pupils, eager and needing you to fuck her that hard too.

"You want that too, baby?" you asked Rina, slowly pumping in and out of Yeji's pussy as her orgasm passed.

"Yes daddy!" she answered immediately, and she followed your gaze as you pulled out of Yeji and got on top of her. "Use your pretty cumslut and fill her up, please!"

You adjusted your knees on either side of Rina's hips and sat on her thighs, squeezing her ass cheeks sideways to reveal her butthole and pussy, where you brought your hand up to rub a few times up and down. You first brought your thumb inside her pussy, and then pressed it against her butthole to get it halfway in.

"Stop playing around and fuck me already." Rina moaned, lifting her hips impatiently to rub her ass cheeks against your cock.

"You'll have me all night, why are you in such a hurry, baby?" you asked, your thumb now fully inside her ass.

"Because I'm so fucking wet!" she protested with a squeal, fingers gripping the sheets.

"You're just being a whiny bitch." Yeji said from the side, already recovered from her orgasm. "Daddy, should I make her shut up?"

"Go ahead." You nodded, pulling your thumb out of Rina's ass to now bring your index and middle fingers inside her pussy.

Rina moaned, watching as Yeji positioned herself in front of her with her legs spread and her pussy right in front of her face. Yeji didn't even ask for permission, she just grabbed Rina by the hair and sank her mouth against her pussy.

"Mmmgh," Yeji moaned, fingers tangled in Rina's dark strands. "That's so much better."

Teasing Rina was so much fun, and as she ate Yeji's pussy you pumped your fingers at a torturously slow pace for her. She wasn't complaining anymore, but she still desperately twisted her hips upward, looking for any kind of friction with your cock that would make you want to penetrate her already..

You put that moment off for a few seconds, as her pussy looked especially juicy and pretty that night. Watching your fingers enter and then come out soaked and shiny was too hot to ignore, and you kept pumping them slowly until you couldn't take it anymore and grabbed your cock to take it inside her.

That took Rina by surprise. She pulled the sheets under her hands and squealed against Yeji's pussy, with your cock almost completely inside her already. You had never fucked her prone bone, and that was your perfect opportunity to do so.

Sensing that she was intending to pull away, Yeji caught Rina's head between her thighs and squeezed to hold her back. Rina had no choice but to hold onto Yeji's legs with her hands, eating her out as much as her own moans would allow.

"What are you waiting for to fuck the brains out of the whiny brat, daddy?" Yeji asked you, looking into your eyes, a sexy half smile on her face. "You weren't gentle with me at all, and I don't think she deserves any less."

"You hear that, Jiminie?" you asked Rina, hands on her waist as you slowly pumped in and out of her warm, wet pussy. "Because of you I have to agree with Yeji."

You noticed Yeji's annoyed look at that comment, but you did a miracle to hold back your laughter. You made it a priority to move your hips faster and faster, your right hand moving up Rina's soft back until it rested on her right shoulder.

As the seconds passed, you began to get into a rhythm, until you had the bed shaking slightly from how hard you moved your hips, both hands gripping Rina's shoulders. You saw her desperate to break free so she could scream out loud, but Yeji showed no signs of wanting to please her, so you had to intervene.

"Give her a break, baby." you told Yeji between gasps. "I want to hear her cute whimpers as she begs me to fuck her harder."

"Ugh, fine." Yeji replied, and reluctantly untangled her thighs from around Rina's head.

"Agh fuck!!" Rina screamed as soon as the movement of her neck was released, turning to give you a sexy look over her shoulder. "Yeah daddy I fucking love that!!"

You let yourself fall forward and placed your hands on the mattress on either side of Rina's head. She held onto your right forearm with one hand and lifted her head to look up at you. All it took was for her to stick her tongue out for your chip to activate and you spit right on her.

"Fuck, you two really get dirty don't you?" Yeji teased with a playful tone, moving one leg to put one of her feet in front of your face. You caught it with your mouth without hesitation. "Have you ever spit anywhere other than her tongue?"

You certainly hadn't thought about it before, so after a few seconds of sucking Yeji's toes, you grabbed a handful of Rina's hair with your hand and pulled it hard to keep her face looking up at you. Then you spit again, this time on her parted lips and part of her nose.

"Mmmgh yes!!" Rina moaned as you hammered her pussy rapidly up and down, visibly aroused by how you had spit on her. "Use me like a dirty whore daddy, don't hold back, give me all you fucking got!!"

With one hand you had to signal Yeji to move back a little, so you could put that same hand on the back of Rina's head and roughly press her face sideways into the mattress. You left that hand there, and the other you left pressed against her lower back, supporting the full weight of your arms there to keep her completely still.

Rina muffled screams against the mattress, completely trapped beneath you. You used her pussy like a cheap fleshlight, fucking it so hard and so fast that you sweated even with the air conditioning on. Yeji's feet were still at your disposal right in front of your face, so you took her toes in your mouth to muffle your own moans against them.

"So gooood, so gooood!!" Rina squealed beneath you, tears in her eyes. "I'm so close daddy, make your little whore cum and then use her as a fucking cumdump!!"

Her dirty talk was just what you needed to feel close too. You knew you were going to cum together; it was some kind of crazy connection you and her had that for some reason always came true, so you let go of her head and let your body fall on top of hers, wrapping your arms around her neck, lifting her head and kissing her as you gave her your last few pumps.

Just as you had anticipated, the very moment you exploded, she followed just milliseconds later. Moans were muffled against each other's lips, between small wet kisses and spasms of both bodies. Rina grabbed your head, raising her hips to fuck herself against you as you filled every space in her pussy with jets of thick cum.

Your connection when fucking was so strong that once you both came you didn't even realize you were supposed to stop, you just kept going and going no matter how sensitive you were. It was a kind of addiction that you both had to notice first before you could stop. In this case, you were the one who stopped moving.

"Are you satisfied with the load daddy gave you, baby?" you asked, giving her little kisses near her mouth.

"So fucking satisfied..." Rina nodded, looking at you with a pair of eyes that to be frank, you were starting to develop a soft spot for. "Daddy's load feels so warm inside me."

"Daddy, can you come kiss me?" Yeji asked in front of you. She was lying on her side, her legs drawn up and one hand on her thigh. "I deserve it for waiting so long for you."

"It was only two months, Hwang Yeji." You replied with a mischievous smile, coming out of Rina and giving her a peck on the forehead before going to Yeji.

"Are you kidding? That was an eternity for me." she said, as you laid down behind her and wrapped your arms around her. "You're not leaving for a while, are you?"

"Nah, I don't think so." you replied, giving her pecks all over the side of her face until you found her lips.

"Unnie, don't you want to clean daddy's cum off my pussy?" Rina asked a few seconds later, as you and Yeji kissed.

Yeji immediately pulled away from your lips and looked at Rina.

"That's an offer I can't refuse," Yeji said, before licking her lips and going to get on top of Rina.

Yeji got on her hands and knees and had Rina lift her hips to put her in a similar position, then she put her hands on her buttocks and planted her face right between them to start the cleaning process. You watched it all with your hands clasped behind your head and the comfort of the pillow beneath it.

A few seconds later Yeji knelt up. She had a little cum on her upper lip, but she noticed it quickly and ran her tongue to clean it up as well. Rina finally dropped her hips down and crawled to lay beside you, one arm over your chest. Yeji did the same but on the opposite side. You wrapped your arms around both of them.

"Daddy has more where that came from for us, doesn't he?" Rina asked, giving you little kisses on the chest. "Because we don't feel tired at all."

"I bet he does." Yeji said from the other side, a hand caressing your abdomen and her mouth on your neck. "And I don't think he wants to waste having two it girls in his bed."

"You're being modest today, huh?" you teased, turning your head to kiss her. "Why don't you put that big mouth to work to get daddy hard again?"

"I'm not telling lies, am I?" she asked with a smirk, kneeling up. "Anyone would dream of having a threesome with the two of us."

Yeji bent forward over your cock with her ass facing you, then grabbed your limp shaft and took it into her mouth to suck on it. You raised a hand and groped her ass to turn to face Rina.

"You know what I'm going to ask you, don't you?" you said, rubbing the tip of your nose against her forehead to make her look at you.

"It has to do with how much you love my tits, daddy?" she asked, and moved a thigh up over yours to rub them together to press her tits against the side of your body.

"And not just yours," you replied, and looked at Yeji as you sucked on her now hard cock. "Wanna give it a try, sweetie?"

Yeji pulled you out of her mouth with a pop and looked at you.

"My tits aren't that big," she placed kisses around the tip, her hand going up and down. "But with some lube it'll be fun."

You smiled and gave her a small spank.

"I like the way you think."

Yeji put your cock down and climbed off the bed.

"Where do you keep it?" she asked, searching on top of your dresser.

"In the drawer of the nightstand." you nodded to the right.

Yeji went and opened the drawer to take out the white bottle of lube. She shook it and giggled.

"Oh, water-based, perfect. And wow, it's half empty." She looked at you. "You and Chaery sure were busy that week, huh?"

"I'll refrain from answering."

Yeji and Rina laughed in unison, as Yeji climbed back into bed with you. She rolled onto her back.

"I'm not going to go first, no way." Yeji said, and looked over at Rina. "Unnie, the honor is yours."

"I know, I wasn't going to let you go first either," Rina replied, and laid down next to Yeji as you knelt up. "Go ahead daddy."

"You can lube up our entire bodies if you want." Yeji said, handing you the lube.

"Oh yeah?" You raised an eyebrow, taking the little bottle and opening it. "Well, you don't have to tell me twice."

It was a bit of a late process for how hard and horny you were, but lubing up every inch of that pair of beautiful bodies was worth every second. It also served to refresh your memory a bit as to your massage skills, as the moment reminded you directly of that first therapy with Yeji a few months ago.

Damn, time was flying by.

"Mmm, I think someone will have to change the sheets later," Yeji said with a giggle, seeing how soaked everything was beneath the two of them.

"And you're going to help me," you said, putting the bottle of lube aside. "Don't think you're getting off scot-free because you have pretty privileges."

"As long as you fuck us properly we'll never complain, daddy." Rina said, and she brought her arms together a little to press her pair of oily tits together.

"Fuck, it's so easy for her!" Yeji protested, and imitated Rina. She had to bring her arms together a lot more to press her tits together, but she still looked stupidly hot.

"Now who's being the whiny brat?" Rina teased with a giggle, as you straddled her torso.

"You! You almost cried for his cock!"

You sighed and closed your eyes for a moment, remembering the night with Aeri and Rina and how unbearable they had become. The difference was that Yeji was way worse than Aeri.

"If you two start arguing I'm going to the living room to watch Breaking Bad." you said.

"NO!" they both cried in unison, looking at you with puppy dog ​​eyes.

You smiled.

"Good girls."

Rina's tits were at your disposal right below you, and you had lubed up your cock as well. You just had to lean forward a little more, sit down, and slide your shaft between those soft, pale pillows. You moaned immediately. It was a feeling you were never going to get tired of.

"God, it even seems to disappear between them," Yeji sighed, watching as you pumped your shaft in and out of Rina's tits slowly.

"I have to use my good genes for something, don't I?" Rina asked, biting her lip as you squeezed her tits and rubbed your fingers against her nipples as well.

You didn't remember ever trying to fuck Rina's lubed up tits, but if you hadn't, you cursed yourself for never thinking of it. It was such an overwhelmingly amazing feeling that you even entered a little zen moment where you had to close your eyes to keep from exploding right away.

"Feels good, doesn't it daddy?" Rina asked with a moan. “That’s it, use me as you please.”

You reached the maximum speed your hips would allow in record time, pumping in and out of that slippery meat sandwich. But you were forced to stop so you could give Yeji her well-deserved attention.

“Come on baby, you can do a good job too,” you said, now getting on top of Yeji.

You honestly didn’t understand her complaints. It was true that she had to put in more effort than Rina to be able to do the same, but the result was almost as hot to look at and perfect for the task. Putting your cock between her tits didn’t exactly give you the same feeling, as you were missing being wrapped up from above as well. But for that, Yeji used her hands, using them to press her tits together and at the same time catching your cock from above with her fingers.

“Oh fuck, you feel wonderful too, Hwang.” you gasped, moving your hips somewhat quickly from the start.

"Great," she replied between small moans, "because that's the most my modest tits can offer you, honey."

But you didn't need much more, and the lube made everything just perfect. You pumped over and over between Yeji's perky tits, one hand reaching out to the right to grope Rina's tits and slick body, also reaching her pussy from time to time.

When you went back to fuck Rina's tits you repeated the same, now having your left hand squeeze Yeji's tits and moving up and down her flat belly. Without realizing it you lowered your hand a little too much, and ended up between her legs but not to play with her pussy, but with her butthole.

"Mmm, what are you doing daddy?" Yeji asked with a moan, feeling your fingers rubbing her down there. "Starting to feel withdrawal symptoms because of my ass? It's understandable. Two months without fucking it must be hard."

"Do you want to fuck our asses already, daddy?" Rina asked as well, licking your tip every time you pushed your cock forward.

"How do you know?" you replied between labored gasps.

"Because you have a finger inside mine." Yeji said. And it was true, without realizing it you had brought your finger inside her butthole and were pumping it slowly.

"You'll be the first then." you said, and you let go of Rina's tits to get off of her.

You picked Yeji up and laid her on her side, and she automatically pulled her legs up so you could kneel in front of her. Her body had small dry spots, so you took the lube and poured it back on as many parts as you could, including her butthole, which you ended up fingering with two fingers just to get it ready.

Rina went to lay on her side in front of Yeji, getting between her legs so you could put their breasts as close together as possible. They wrapped their arms around each other, rubbing their tits together as they looked at you expectantly. You didn't make Yeji wait. You just grabbed your cock, pressed it against her butthole and pushed forward to get half of it in one motion.

"Oh fuck yes!" Yeji moaned, arms around Rina's head. "And I definitely missed that big cock inside my ass so much!"

You moaned too, focused on getting your whole length inside her as soon as possible. Having achieved that, you put a hand on her waist and decided to give her a fuck worthy of a reunion. Rina did her bit by putting a hand between their bodies and reaching Yeji's pussy, to rub it with the full extent of her palm.

The lube made everything ten times easier. Within seconds there was almost no friction between your cock and Yeji's ass, making the movements smooth and fluid. You took advantage of this to immediately accelerate, pounding her ass and bouncing her tits against Rina's.

"Did you miss my tight little ass daddy? Mmmgh?" Yeji asked between squeals, as Rina quickly fingered her pussy.

"Yes I did." you replied with a grunt, your left hand behind her knee and the other on her ass cheek.

"Then fuck it like your life depended on it." she said, and moaned loudly as Rina moved her wrist faster and made it slam into her pussy.

And so you did for the next minute, hammering her ass with one hand permanently on her ass and thigh and the other varying between squeezing her tits or grabbing her neck. She came in the process, but let you continue fucking her for a few seconds until you suddenly pulled out.

"Now you, Katarina Blu," you said, looking into her eyes.

Rina automatically rolled onto her back and grabbed her legs behind her knees to spread them wide like a good girl. You quickly knelt in front of her, and without much foreplay took your cock into her ass for the second time in 24 hours.

Her ass was so wonderful it felt like another pussy, and a great advantage of fucking it missionary was watching her glistening tits bounce hypnotically as if they had a life of their own. Yeji, quick-witted, pressed herself against the side of her body and took one of her tits into her mouth, sucking that nipple and pinching the other.

With her you of course had to follow the dirty trend, which she loved. You spit in her face several times, choked her, and even slapped her a couple of times that made her clench her teeth in pleasure. Yeji, for her part, had reached between Rina's legs to rub her clit with such frenzy that you swore she was going to set it on fire.

Rina was soon cumming in a violent storm of spasms and moans. Her first instinct was to turn around and meet Yeji's lips to share a sloppy, passionate kiss, while Yeji ran her fingers up and down between her folds. Rina's ass was tight around your cock, but you didn't feel close to cumming yet.

"I'll use your mouths." you warned, but you didn't even give Rina time to respond before you climbed on top of her and buried your cock straight inside her mouth.

Rina didn't complain, instead she grabbed your balls and squeezed them as you pressed your cock against her throat.

"Oh fuck..." Yeji moaned, watching as Rina took you all the way down her throat between cute gagging reflexes. "Daddy, I also-"

But you didn't give her time to say a single word either, because you quickly pulled out of Rina's mouth to penetrate hers. Yeji's eyes widened, and her face scrunched up as you took your cock all the way in. The lack of preparation made her cough and gag even harder than Rina, but within seconds you gave her a break, as you were now going to fuck Katarina's pretty mouth.

You sensed that you had gotten a little too carried away and that you were fucking both of their mouths with less care than you should have, but as you received no stop signal from them, you just continued pumping your cock completely in and out of their mouths, holding their heads and chins to keep them still and making saliva spill everywhere.

After a frantic minute of alternating between mouth and mouth you finally felt close and knelt in the space between them.

"On your hands and knees in front of my cock, now." you ordered, quickly masturbating yourself.

Rina and Yeji quickly complied with the order despite how dizzy the facefucks had left them. The two of them got on their hands and knees, their cute lubricated asses raised. Their faces were now in front of your cock as you rubbed them, and they decided to help by kissing and licking around your tip.

"Paint our pretty little faces, daddy." Yeji moaned, squeezing your balls with one hand.

"We need it." Rina moaned too, giving your tip little sucks.

Within seconds you exploded without even warning. The first drop fell on the sheets, but they quickly closed the gap by pressing their faces together, so that the rest of the jets painted that pair of gorgeous faces with parted lips.

"How warm... fuck." Yeji moaned, drops of cum running down every corner of her face.

"And delicious," Rina added, in exactly the same situation as Yeji.

When your orgasm passed they both took turns eating your cum off each other's faces and also cleaning your cock with slow sucks and licks up and down. So you let yourself fall back to lie down and stare at the ceiling. But soon your view of it was obstructed by Pinky and the Brain.

"Daddy? Tired yet?" they both asked at the same time.

You forced them to let you rest for about ten minutes where you only kissed each other, but you continued fucking for at least two more hours. You fucked both of them doggy style; you fucked Yeji from behind against the wall; you let Rina ride you in reverse while you ate Yeji's pussy; Yeji also rode you but facing you, with Rina fingering her ass from behind. You beat all the records for duration and orgasms that you could beat.

By the end, every bone in your body felt like it had been ground by an industrial steamroller. Yeji and Rina were exhausted too, after you had made them cum at least five more times each. Both of their legs were shaking, and they were shaking badly, so they couldn't help you while you changed the soaked sheets.

Around 1AM you laid down snuggled up under the sheets. You played the big spoon for Rina, cradling her in your arms with her back pressed to your chest, and the little spoon for Yeji, who had her breasts pressed against your back and a shaky leg up against your body.

It would have been one of the best sleeps of your life, if it weren't for the fact that as soon as everything was over and your room was completely silent, your thoughts played tricks on you again and prevented you from falling asleep as quickly as you wanted.

It was a caress on your face from Rina and an affectionate kiss on your back from Yeji that made you calm down until you could finally fall asleep.

BACK TO THAT MORNING.

"Oh my god!" Rina protested, with a little punch on your chest. "Why do you keep hiding things from us!"

"Yeah!" Yeji joined in, tugging on a lock of your hair. "Stop that or I'll kick your fucking ass!"

You smiled even though the tug hurt. But only a little.

"I still hadn't decided what I was going to do yesterday," you said. "But spending the night with you two brightened the way for me. It made me realize that the answer has always been simple."

The two of them stayed silent and looked at you with narrowed eyes and frowns.

"What the fuck does that mean?" Yeji said, confused.

You then told them everything that happened regarding Gunwook and the two possible contracts that had been presented to you. Then you opened your heart a little and told them about how you felt about them and the nice times you had spent together.

"And well... I can't just leave all that behind; it's too precious to me, you literally changed my life for the better." you continued. "So yeah... I'll take the job."

"Wahhh!!" the two of them squealed in happiness, and shook you between kisses.

"Yeah, yeah," you laughed, receiving kisses on both sides of your face. "Besides..." you looked at Rina. "According to Gunwook, Jihye's last request was for me to take good care of all of you. And you know I can't refuse that."

"And you know we're not leaving you alone in this, sweetheart." Rina said, stroking your hair and looking at you with a cute smirk.

"Never." Yeji added, also smiling, and gave you a peck on the cheek.

You hugged each other for another long moment, while you stared at the ceiling with a silly smile on your face. After a minute, however, Rina lifted her head from your chest.

"Wait, does that mean we can stay like this all day?" she asked, unable to hide her excitement.

"Nope," you shook your head softly. "Today marks the start of a new phase in my life, sweetie. A new career!"

"Then that means there's more to celebrate than just your return!" Yeji said, then looked at Rina. "You know what I have in mind, right?"

Rina tilted her head and looked at her with a weak grimace.

"No, unnie, not really." she shook her head. "My head doesn't work in the mornings, much less after fucking all night."

Yeji looked at you and smiled from ear to ear, already excited about what she hadn't even said yet.

"Come to our house next week for a pool party!" she said. "You and the Aespa girls. All five of you are fully invited, and I insist."

"I'm in!" Rina said immediately, a bright smile on her face as well before looking at you. "Come on, say you're in too!"

"You say that like you're going to accept another answer." you chuckled.

"Indeed, we weren't going to accept another answer." Yeji said.

Rina sat up, her bare back facing you.

"Wait a minute," she said. "Will this pool party be anything like Twice's legendary pool parties?"

Twice legendary pool parties? Now that was something you didn’t expect to hear. Literally never.

Yeji laughed and sat up too, and you swore to god you wanted to take a picture of that pair of gorgeous backs covered in gorgeous long hair and frame it.

"I mean, we've never thrown a party on our own," she said. "But Nayeon and Mina unnie have told me a few things. And since you know I'm a competitive bitch... I want to do something even better!"

—-------------------------------

Well, I'm so sorry about all that lol. It was also really fucking hard for me to write, but I promise you that everything has its reason and it will be for the best lol Also, I'm so fucking happy to bring Itzy back. I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I do. MASTERLIST HERE!

[unequivocallyreid]

Why Didn’t You Tell Me?

it has been SO long... i was suffering from serious writers block but it think i'm finally out of it :)

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

summary: Spencer Reid used to be your best friend, but things changed. How long can you pretend that you don't love him before it ruins you?

warnings: angst! (with a happy ending), smut (unprotected piv), character loss, mention of Maeve, very sad Spencer, mental health struggles, drinking/bar scene, light choking, fighting, slight praise kink

wc: 8.8k 🤗

i’m very proud of this one! i hope you love it!

Every morning when you wake up, you feel a familiar and creeping sort of dread in the pit of your stomach.

Don’t get the wrong idea; you love your job. You love helping people and stopping horrible people from ruining any more lives, but the creeping feeling and desire to get out is always in the corner of your mind. Anyone working in this field would tell you that. There’s no absolute separation between you and the victims and their families. You take all of them home with you, and you just have to learn how to deal with that and not let it eat at you.

It doesn’t help that it’s an isolating job as well. The last time you were in a serious relationship was in college. Now, every date you have ends in disappointment. Not only do you lack interest in most of the men and women, but it couldn’t go anywhere even if you did. 75% of your time is spent in the office, on a jet, or hundreds of miles away from your home.

All of this contributes to the feeling, but the worst part of your job is Dr. Spencer Reid.

He’s secretive and dismissive and just about the most attractive person you’d ever seen. You honestly don’t know what is worse: his constant physical presence in your life or the fact that you can’t stop thinking about him no matter what you do. You’ve tried to get over it; you’ve buried yourself in work, lamented to your friends, and gone out on dates (all with guys that looked vaguely similar), but nothing has worked. All his worst traits grate your nerves and light you up at the same time.

The worst part of it all is that it wasn’t always like this. When you first joined the BAU nearly two years ago, you and Spencer got along well. You were friends, he talked to you about his life, he understood you, and you really severely fell for him. He became your best friend.

Everything changed around six months ago. Spencer started to develop migraines, and as those developed, he started distancing himself from you. He became snippy and closed off, he started hiding things from you, and he stopped talking to you about life outside of Quantico. It was like overnight, you became nothing to him, and you really didn’t understand. Everyone else on the team got the same old Spencer, but you went from his right-hand man to someone he only spoke to when it was necessary.

Maybe he didn’t deserve to be vilified. You know, realistically, he can and should be able to decide who he wants to be close to, but working with a man who unknowingly broke your heart was close to the hardest thing you’d ever done. So, you decided hating him was easier. The real emotions you feel toward him sit somewhere inside you, but they have been covered by manufactured distaste. Addressing the actual feeling would hurt too bad, so you pretend to hate the things you used to love.

Nothing, however, could have prepared you for the last case you worked on: helping Spencer save a girl he met about six months ago, a girl he loved. You tried to stay collected, you said nothing when Spencer assisted when he shouldn’t have, and goddamn, did you do everything in your power to find that girl. Maeve. She was perfect for Spencer, and you saw that immediately. Everyone did. The sight of him sobbing in front of her body is one that will never leave your mind.

Now, two weeks later, no one has heard from Reid. The only indication that he hasn’t abandoned his life altogether is the absence of the gift baskets on his doorstep that Pen leaves daily.

Nearly everyone has been to his apartment, but they are met with a closed door and have yet to receive a response. Everyone but you.

Penelope is the first to bring up your lack of appearance at the end of a long day of paperwork.

“Y/n, please, you just have to try. No one is getting anything from him.”

“I really don’t think my presence would do any good,” you pause for a moment, trying to collect the thoughts running through your head like a freight train. “Me and him haven’t been close in a long time, Pen.”

Before you can continue, she cuts in, “Everyone has tried, Y/n. Hell, I’ve even considered tracking down Gideon, and I really, really do not want to do that.”

She pauses for a moment before looking up at you with a pout on her face, “Please, Y/n, for me. I can’t bear the thought of him in there all alone, just wasting away in grief.”

For someone who claims not to be a profiler, Penelope knew exactly what to say to get you to agree. She’s the only person in your life who you told about how you felt, though you’re sure everyone else (aside from Spencer) knew: you’re shit at keeping secrets.

“Okay, okay, I’ll try.”

She nearly bursts with excitement, “Thank God-“

You cut her off before she can finish, “But I’m telling you, I’m not the person he wants to hear from right now. Don’t get your hopes up.”

“Yes, yes. I just want him to know we all want him to be okay.”

Before you can hurry out of the office to follow Pen’s instructions, she stops you and hands you a basket full of assorted snacks and fruits.

“Make sure he eats!”

The walk up to Spencer’s apartment is a hard one to take. The smell of his building hits you as soon as you step into the lobby. From there, everything rushes back at once. Memories of nights you spent watching reruns of Doctor Who or listening to him prattle off about whatever he last read assault you with every step. As you slowly make your way up, you start to question why you agreed to do this in the first place.

You feel a lot toward Reid. More than you should and less than you could. But all that care and feelings that are so close to love aren’t enough to make you forget why you’ve been trying to hate him for so long. He deserted you without an explanation and cut you off without a warning. You spent weeks (three months) crying over him like a love-struck teen. So, as much as you want to hold him and comfort him, you know it’ll hurt you to do so. Penelope sent you, with the whole team’s approval, you’re sure, to try to patch up a broken heart he got loving someone else. There’s a sickness in your gut, but it’s not enough to stop you from rapping your knuckles against his door.

“Spencer? It’s Y/n.”

There’s no response.

“I know you probably don’t want to hear from me right now, but I want to make sure you’re alright. Can you tell me you’re alright?”

Again, nothing.

You know he’s there. Despite your lack of communication, you know Spencer well enough to know that he would never leave his life behind entirely. That being said, your next few attempts at garnering a response are unsuccessful.

You decide to try one final time before just leaving the basket alone on his doorstep and texting Pen it was a bust.

“There’s a lot I don’t know about you now, and I won’t pretend to know what you’re feeling.”

You don’t exactly know where this is headed, but you continue on regardless.

“I know you’re in there, and I know you can hear me, and I know you’re hurting. You shouldn’t- I don’t want you to be alone right now, Spence. You can either unlock your door, or I can pick it, but I’m coming in one way or the other. You know I will.”

You wouldn’t, actually. It’s a last-ditch effort, and it’s met with the same silence you’ve heard on the other side for the past ten minutes. You’re about to turn to head back down the stairs when you hear the very faint sound of a deadbolt turning.

There’s no other sound or movement, and for a moment, you think you might’ve imagined the sound, but you try the handle anyway. It turns, and the door slides open. You take a step in.

“Spencer,” you call out to him.

You don’t see him at first in the mess of his apartment, but when you do, you feel a crack form in your heart.

Beyond the clutter of his entryway, you see his back on the couch. His frame looks smaller than you’ve ever seen it, and you can see his legs curled into his chest. You set down the gift basket by a collection of others on the entry table and walk over to him. Slowly, like you’re trying not to spook a lost dog, you creep in front of him.

His head is down, and his gaze stays trained on his knees.

You reach out your hand and lay it over his. He flinches but doesn’t pull away.

“Spence, I’m so glad you opened the door.”

You didn’t plan out what you would say, but ‘sorry’ feels redundant and useless.

You go on, “I’m here. I- I don’t know what to do or say, and I’m sorry that I don’t. I can get someone else for you. Just tell me what you need, and I’ll do it.”

You wait for him to say he wants Penelope or JJ, but it doesn’t come. Nothing comes. You start to move to get up, figuring you could clean up a bit and try to make him something to eat, then go, but he grasps your arm before you can.

He looks up at you, and his eyes hit you right in the gut. They’re bloodshot and sunken but still beautiful.

“Stay. Please. I just- I need to know I’m not dreaming. I keep thinking I’m dreaming.”

His voice is croaky from disuse and breaks at the end, but it’s so heartbreakingly earnest that you feel your breath catch. You move from your crouch and sit beside him on the couch; your hand is still in his.

You stay like that for a long time. His breathing is shakey and uneven, and every so often, his body shakes with what you can only assume are sobs. You stay pressed to his side the whole time, thumb rubbing back and forth over his hand.

Eventually, you speak again, “I’m gonna get you some food, Spence. You should eat.”

He says nothing back, but he does loosen his grip. You push yourself up from the coach with a promise you’ll be as fast as possible.

His kitchen is nearly empty, and you hope he’s been eating from the baskets. Still, you find enough to make noodles and butter, and you figure the carbs should help his energy some.

You return with the bowl. Spencer hasn’t moved, but his head follows you as you walk back over to him.

“It’s not fine dining.”

He studied you for a second, and you catch a glimpse of the old him in his eye.

“You did the same thing when I was sick on a case a year ago.”

You smile at his recollection.

“It helped you then.”

The rest of the night is spent mostly in silence. Occasionally, you tell him something to try to remind him that you’re there and that you won’t leave as long as he wants you there. Eventually, you get up from the couch again.

“Spencer, it’s too late to still be awake.”

He nods and still says nothing, but he is far more receptive than before. You reach your hand out to him to help him up from the couch, and he takes it.

He leads you to his room at a slow pace. His head stays down as you both take a seat on his bed, hands still interlocked. Being in his bedroom is odd for you. You’ve been to his apartment quite a few times before he disappeared from your life, but you never breached this space. It’s all very him. Almost surprisingly cozy, with books scattered around nearly everywhere there’s space.

You take in the moment for a beat before saying, “I’m gonna head home, Spencer, but please call me if you need anything at all. I’ll come back tomorrow.”

This makes his head snap up, and his eyes lock with yours.

“Please stay.”

That’s all he says, but every part of him is pleading with you. It’s not a good idea, and you know it. You’re the only person he’s seen in days, you aren’t close anymore, and you don’t particularly want to sleep on a couch tonight.

“Spencer, I don’t want to sleep in your living room tonight. I’ll come back.”

He pauses for a moment, “You can stay here with me. I don’t want to be alone.”

Your heart cracks again. There was a time when this was all you wanted. It’s still, deep down, all you want, just not like this. You know he doesn’t really want you there and he’s not himself. But you aren’t strong enough to say no, so you don’t.

He gets you clothes to wear, and you change in his bathroom. You come out and find him in his bed, laying with his back to you. You have no fucking idea what you’re doing, but you get into bed next to him anyways. There are a thousand thoughts racing through your head, but the prevailing one is how badly you want to touch him, to hold him, to make him forget, just for the night. You stay still, though, confined to the edge of the bed and start to count to drown out the noise.

Though, you can’t drown out his voice, saying, “Can- Could you hold me? I think that everything feels better when you touch me.”

Another crack. By the end of this, you know Spencer Reid is going to break your heart all over again.

~

When you wake up the next morning, Spencer is still asleep. You sneak out of his room and call Hotch. When he answers, you tell him Spencer has let you in, and you ask for time off to try to help. You can tell from his voice that he doesn’t think it’s a good idea, but he grants you it anyway.

Much of your day is spent like the night before. You stay next to Spencer, and you cook for him after leaving to pick up clothes and groceries. Then, you get him to shower and wash his hair. He sleeps with his head in your lap, and you feel like a fucking idiot at first, but as long as it’s helping him in some way, you let it happen.

That’s the thing: you don’t really know how to help him. You know he isn’t the type to talk about something until he is entirely ready, so all you can do is add something domestic and bright to his life while he grieves. It’s all you can think about in the moments of silence. Hell, you even read to him to try and get your mind off of it, but it barely helps.

The night is the same. You change in different rooms and slip into his bed at different times. You feel dirty for imagining what it would be like if the circumstances were different: if he wanted you like you have wanted him for the past two years. You hold him against you, and you pray for sign that you should be there.

The sign comes the following morning when Derek calls you.

“Y/n…”

You can hear his teasing tone over the phone.

“Hi, Derek.”

“What are you doing, mamas?”

You sigh, “What do you mean?”

You’re playing coy. You know he’s wondering why you’re at Spencer’s house, picking up the pieces, but you won’t be the one to bring it up.

“Why’d you ask Hotch for the week off, Y/n?”

Another sigh, “You know why, Derek. I just, I want to help him.”

“I know you do, Y/n, I know.”

He pauses for a moment, and you let the moment fill with silence.

“I know you care about him. We all care about him. But who is taking care of you?”

“I am. I can take care of him, and I can take care of me.”

“I know you can, but I don’t want you to get hurt, Y/n. Don’t let this be something that hurts you.”

“It won’t. I- You have to- Fuck, I’ll be fine. He’s not fine. I don’t care about me or any feelings that may get hurt right now. I’ll be fine.”

There’s another bear of silence, “Okay, Y/n. Just know you’re allowed to tap out.”

You try to think of anything else to say, but nothing comes, so you say your goodbyes.

You won’t need to tap out. You can take care of him and be good to him and ignore the other feelings you have. You can be good.

The call does make you think it’s time to push, to try harder, to help him get better. So, you approach him that day before bed, before he tucks himself into your arms and falls into a fretful sleep.

“Spencer?”

He takes a moment and then responds, “Yes?”

“You have to talk about it. I think that you need to talk about it. It doesn’t have to be to me but to someone.”

He’s quiet for a long time, and your breath is caught in your throat, waiting for him to say anything.

“I- I don’t want to,” his voice cracks while he says it.

“Spence, you can’t come back if you don’t. You can’t move forward if you don’t.”

“Maybe I don’t want to.”

A ringing echos in your ears.

“You don’t mean that. She- she would want you to keep going.”

Wrong thing to say.

“You don’t know anything about what she would want.”

He’s seething now, below the surface, but smoke has started to plume from his ears. Still, you don’t stop.

“Spencer, everyone knows that. No one would want you to put your life on hold.”

He speaks his next line through his teeth, “You don’t know anything, Y/n.”

You’ve never heard him sound so angry.

“Spencer-“

“No, just stop. You don’t know her. You don’t know me half as well as you think you do. You don’t know anything. I don’t even know why you’re here. I don’t want you here. You can't be what I need.”

The ringing in your ears is louder.

“Spencer, please. Just-“

“No!” His voice is raised now, bordering on a yell, “I don’t want you here. I want you out, Y/n.”

This has to be what shell shock feels like. The ringing, the tingle in your limbs, and the heat in your face. You don’t know how you are moving, but you are.

His voice is echoing in your head, or maybe he’s still talking, but you can’t tell either way. The only thing you can focus on is how Spencer sounded like he hates you and that Morgan was right about the hurt.

~

You spend the next day trying desperately to shut down the noise in your head. It doesn’t work. The day after is the same. And the days following that. You ignore calls when they come, you ignore the texts, but you can’t stop looking at your phone for a message from the man who fills your thoughts.

Spencer doesn’t call, obviously, and you have to sit with a pit in your stomach while you beg yourself to just get the fuck over it. Two years of reckoning with the severity of your love, months of watching him live happily without you, and it’s the three days you spent trying to help him feel incrementally better that floor you.

You feel like a dumb teenage girl with so much love and nothing to do with it. On top of everything, you feel selfish. Spencer lost the love of his life forever, and you’re nursing the worst heartbreak of your life because a boy will never want you and never has. Still, you send out prayers for him over and over. You hope you’ll see him in the BAU again, even if his eyes glaze over you. Hell, even if they look at you with hate the way they did two days ago. You just want him to function. You want him to be good and eventually be happy. You try to go to bed with soothing thoughts, but you end up with a mantra of his name.

You wake to your alarm and dress for work before you realize you aren’t actually supposed to go back yet. You never set a date to return. You wanted to be open as long as Spencer needed you. You’re supposed to be with him. You’re supposed to be helping and not tapping out. But you aren’t.

You have no reason not to return to the bullpen, so you do. You walk in and feel eyes on you. You wait for Morgan to call out to you, but he doesn’t, so you follow the feeling.

Your breath catches in your throat; it’s Spencer. He’s sitting at his desk, paperwork spread out, and he doesn’t look away from your gaze; he just holds it. His face is unreadable, and yours is definitely not, so you look away first. You don’t look up again until you reach Hotch’s office. You knock and hear him call out to come in.

“I’m back if that’s okay.”

He looks up at you, and you want to cry. You know he can read you. He has always been the best at it.

“Are you okay with that, Y/l/n?”

You lock eyes with him, “Yes, sir.”

It’s no use; he knows your tells and you aren’t being honest.

“Alright, conference room in five.”

Whatever he sees in your face, he ignores and takes you at your word, but there’s a warning in his tone. He knows when to let things go and when to push. More than that, though, he knows you’d never let something like this affect your work.

~

The first case back is in Maryland, and the one after is in Austin, and the next is in Philadelphia with The Replicator. The job takes you all over the country, and the cases blend together. You don’t speak to Spencer through all of it. You’re never partnered, never work together, you sit on opposite ends of the jet. You don’t even speak at Strauss’ funeral. It’s radio silent, and everyone notices it, but no one brings it up.

In that time, you allow yourself to slip away slightly. You don’t go out with the team, you see Pen at nearly half frequency, and basically, the only time you speak is on cases. It’s stupid and melodramatic, but you call it healing. Derek tries to reason with you, JJ sticks to you a bit more than usual, and Penelope calls you virtually whenever she can, but their efforts are mostly in vain. This is your way of protecting yourself. You feel like you have to isolate in order to improve, and you know, given time, you will come back to yourself.

Penelope’s insistence that you go to her Day of the Dead celebration breaks your distance.

“Y/n, please come. I know you aren’t going out, but you have to. I know you have people to honor, and I need you there.”

You sigh, “Whose going, Pen?”

“The team, which you are a part of, so you must be there.”

“I don’t think I can do that. I promise you I will celebrate with you. I’ll help you set up, just please don’t make me go.”

Penelope pauses, but the glint in her eye keys you into the fact that she is not interested in giving up.

“We miss you, Y/n. Everyone loves you and misses you. You’ve been living this stupid, isolated life, and it’s time for you to come back. You are not this person. I refuse to believe it. You’re coming, and that’s final.”

Maybe you don’t have the energy to argue, or maybe you know she’s right, but you agree to go.

~

The thought of seeing him makes your heart race, and the clock you keep glancing at makes it worse. Just a few more hours before you're trapped in a confined space (Pen’s beautiful home) with a man you haven’t spoken to in weeks.

You busy yourself with preparing. Lights are hung, food is made, and you make a trip to the store while Pen sets up her remembrance table. When everything is said and done, you can’t help but feel this is the most beautiful thing you’ve been a part of in a long time.

The first knock comes at 7:30 exactly, and it’s Hotch and Rossi. They are followed closely by Blake, then Derek and JJ. By 7:00, the atmosphere is light and loving, and you feel a bit of your anxiety let up as the minutes go by without Reid. But, eventually, the knock comes, of course it does, and you move into a corner as Spencer walks in. You feel a shift in energy, though you doubt it’s palpable for anyone else. Rossi is the first to make his way over to you, and his presence comforts you nearly immediately.

“How you doing, kid?” His voice is soft like he’s speaking to a scared rabbit.

“I’m better,” you say, and it’s about as honest as you can get. As much as you’d like to think he knows nothing about what’s gone on, you’re smarter than that. He’s the best profiler on the team, and he’s always known when someone was off with you. Even so, you are better than you were, even if you aren’t quite good, and you know he believes you.

There’s some idle conversation between you before he asks, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not tonight. I don’t know when, but I will. Eventually, I will.”

It’s good enough for him, and you move on easily, which surprises you.

Right before Pen gathers you all to present your photos, he says, “Sometimes we think we’ve seen the whole picture, but we miss a big part. People do things because they don’t want to be hurt, but those things hurt them more. Just, be open.”

You don’t quite understand what he means, but you hope you will.

Penelope presents the first picture, which shows her parents. JJ honors her sister, Derek, his dad, Hotch Haley, and Rossi, Hernandez; then it’s your turn. You place down a photo of your best friend. You hadn’t talked much about her, but you think of her daily. She passed a few years before you joined the BAU.

“I was lucky to have someone that hurt that much to lose.”

That’s all you say, but it’s enough for you, and it would be enough for her.

Spencer is last. He places down a picture of Tesla and a picture of Maeve. Your heart is heavy for everyone.

The night dwindles from there. Hotch and Rossi say their goodbyes, and Rossi gives you a knowing look as he leaves. You just smile. You stay for a few minutes after, but eventually, you move to leave as well.

You make it down Garcia’s porch before you feel a hand grab your arm. You turn, and it’s Spencer’s face you see.

“Would you- Do you think you could come over? Do you think we could talk?”

~

The feeling you have walking up to Spencer's apartment is similar to what you felt the last time. You’re incredibly anxious, but at least you know you’ll be let in this time.

The drive over was silent. Spencer had taken the metro to Penelope’s, so he rode with you. It wasn’t necessarily awkward. There was just an understanding that the car wasn’t the place to begin your conversation.

Now, as Spencer unlocked his door, it’s one of those rare moments you felt starved for words, and you know it’s because you’re scared you’ll say the wrong thing and face the same reaction that you did the last time you were in his home.

He leads you to his living room and motions for you to sit, and you do. The two of you are on opposite ends of his couch while you wait for him to say something.

His first words are airy and light, “Thank you for letting me talk to you.”

You look at him but remain silent, waiting for him to go on. All you can think about is why he wants to speak to you at all. The last time you spoke, he made it incredibly clear he did not want you in his life or around him at all.

Before you can think about it more and let your anger and sadness build, he speaks again, “I feel really stupid right now. I kind of feel stupid whenever I’m around you recently.”

He pauses momentarily before going on, “I’m so, so sorry, Y/n. About the last time we spoke. I’ve been thinking about it pretty constantly for the past few weeks.”

You open your mouth, unsure of what exactly to say, but you can’t get there before he’s off again.

“I’m not sure how to talk to you anymore. I don’t think I’ve known how to for a long time. I just, I need you to know how sorry I am for speaking to you like that.”

He takes a shakey breath but keeps going, “That wasn’t me, and that isn’t how I feel. I’m just unbelievably sorry, Y/n.”

He stops there, and you work to collect your thoughts.

“I know. A part of me knows, at least, that you didn’t mean it. I just wanted to be there for you, and hearing that made me- I just- I think it made me hate myself for wanting to be there.”

“I’m so sorry. I’m unbelievably sorry.”

“You didn’t talk to me for months, Spencer. I just don’t understand. I don’t understand why you let me in in the first place. I thought you hated me.”

He’s silent for a long minute.

“I never hated you, Y/n. I just stopped knowing how to act around you, and then I met Maeve. I fell so deep into it that I couldn’t talk to anyone about it. I- And I just started to feel like you didn’t want me to speak to you, so I didn’t. But, when you came here, after everything, I guess I just felt like you were the only person who would get it. You never, no one on the team ever treated me or talked to me how you did. I just wanted that.”

Tears had begun to well in your eyes now. A part of you gets what he means, at least about letting you in, but the other part is so confused as to why he stopped being comfortable around you.

“I don’t understand, Spencer. Why did you stop knowing how to be around me?”

There’s desperation in your voice that makes you sound like a stranger to yourself. Maybe you’re a stranger to everyone right now.

“I uh, I don’t really know.”

“That's not fair, Spence.”

You’re crying now. Just a little bit, but you can feel the wetness on your cheeks. You can see that you are by the look on his face. He looks broken, and you know it's a reflection of your own image.

You wipe your face, “Thank you for apologizing, Spencer. I just, there are parts of this all that I don’t understand, and if you can't explain them to me, I don’t think I ever will.”

“Y/n-,” he calls out your name like a prayer.

“It’s okay, Spence. You don’t have to say anything more. We talked, and things will go back to how they were eventually.”

“I’m so sorry, Y/n.”

You smile sadly as you get up to leave.

“I am, too, for what it's worth. For whatever I did to make things change in the first place.”

You leave it at that, and it takes everything in you not to look back as you leave his apartment.

~

Things do get easier after that. Not completely. You still love him, and it hurts, but it helps to know he doesn’t hate you. He talks to you some, cordial things, and you do the same. You're sure your teammates still sense something is off, but this works for you. Right now, it works. Getting over him, not loving him anymore, is going to take work, but eventually, you know that you won’t hurt anymore.

Shortly after you and him talked, you started going back out with your friends. Spencer joined periodically, but that was normal. Bars were never really his scene.

Tonight, everyone gathers at your local pub. Your last case was particularly grueling, and you all need a way to blow off some steam. It's fun, and you feel good, even with Spencer sitting across from you. You feel proud of yourself for getting to this point.

JJ and Penelope feed you drinks to try and get you to dance, and you let them. Tonight feels as good of a night as any to ‘get back out there’ as Pen says. So, you do. You dance with them, and you ward off the other cops and agents around you who try to pull you away from your group. You aren’t interested in that. Right now, you're just having an appropriate amount of fun for a woman 15 feet from her boss.

Time goes by quickly, and by the time you get back to the table, you, Derek, Penelope, and JJ remain. He tells you that Hotch, Rossi, Reid, and Alex left a few minutes before. The conversation between you flows for a while, up until the drinks loosen Penelope up enough to bring up what you were pretty sure the team designated a no-no topic.

“Y/n, you have to talk about it.”

You’re still laughing as something Derek said when you reply, “What?”

“You know what. You and Boy-Genius. What on Earth happened? You went from ice-cold to semi-friendly. None of us saw it coming.”

“Babygirl-,” Derek tries to stop her, but you cut him off.

“No, it’s okay. I have to talk about it at some point, and I think right now is the only time I’ll be tipsy enough to let you get it out of me.”

You're still laughing slightly, but the pit that's lived in your stomach for the past few months starts to rear its head.

“After your Day of the Dead party, he asked to talk to me. I went to his place, and he apologized. I don’t really understand what he said or what he meant, but I can’t be sad about him forever.”

Pen perks up a bit at that, “I knew that party would bring good things!”

You giggle a bit at her outburst, but then JJ asks, “What did he say?”

The faces around you all tune in at that. You know they don’t see this as gossip. They care about you both too much to trivialize it like that.

“He just said that he stopped knowing how to act around me, and he didn’t know why, but then he met Maeve, and I guess it didn’t matter so much after that. He was my best friend, and then he was nothing.”

JJ shares a glance with Derek and then speaks, “Oh, Y/n.”

“What?”

After a beat, Derek says, “He didn’t just not know how to act around you.”

Now you're confused, “What do you mean? I talked to him, that's what he said. He didn’t know why. I mean, he knows everything and didn’t know why he didn’t want to be around me anymore. How fucking stupid is that.”

You laugh again, but it does come off as genuine in the slightest.

“Y/n, he probably doesn’t really know why. At least not fully. For someone as smart as he is, the kid can be really stupid.”

“Stop being cryptic.”

Derek sighs but goes on, “Pretty girl, pretty boy was in love with you. Probably still is. He just didn’t think you’d ever feel the same.”

“No. That's not true.”

You look at the others around you, but their faces are serious.

“He loved Maeve. He loves Maeve. That, that doesn’t make any sense.”

It's JJ’s turn to talk now.

“He definitely did love Maeve, no one is denying that, but we all saw how he was around you. His whole relationship with her was safe. He couldn’t be hurt by her rejection every day because he had no way of seeing her. With you, he could.”

Your mind is moving a mile a minute, “Did he tell you guys this?”

Penelope puts her hand over yours and says, “He didn’t have to, love. We all say the way he looked at you and acted around you. The way he talked about you. That boy was head over heels.”

“Guys, I appreciate whatever you’re trying to do, but this isn’t real. Spencer doesn’t- this is not real.”

“Y/n, pause. Think about the way he acted around you, the things he said. Think about how Reid is.”

You hear what Derek said, but it all sounds faint like someone stuffed your ears with cotton while you weren't paying attention. All you can focus on are the different scenes running through your head, the scenes of your life with Spencer in it. How he memorized your coffee order and brought it for you every day, how he never shied away from your touch despite his aversion to contact, how he consistently went out of his way to protect you on the field. At his house after everything, the way he clung to you and wanted to be held. How he said in his own words, “You can't be what I need”; not “you aren’t,” but “you can’t.”

Your whole world is crashing down in this bar, and you can’t do anything to stop it.

“Y/n?”

JJ’s voice snaps you out of your spiral.

“Just go talk to him.”

You nod mutely, and you get up.

~

Everything in the last ten months of your life has led you to the exact spot you were when everything blew up in the first place: Spencer’s door.

This time, you aren't too worried about him not letting you in. If anything, it's the opposite. Him opening this door could open a hundred others, and you don’t quite know if you are ready for any of them. You sit there and sit there and sit there, trying to work up the courage to knock, though you aren’t sure it's there to begin with. Right as you're about to walk away and decide you’ll come back another day, his door swings open.

“Y/n?”

His face is lit up with shock, and you notice his hand that is not on the door is holding his pistol.

“What are you doing here?”

You don’t answer, “Why did you open the door?”

He sets his piece down on the entry table before responding, “I heard footsteps in the hall and saw they stopped here. I was anxious. 50.3% of home invasions happen between 8:00 pm and 7:00 am.” He cuts himself off there, “Y/n, why are you here?”

You didn’t pay attention to anything he said. All you could think about was the way his lips were moving and the way his eyes locked onto yours as he talked.

“Do you love me?”

That is not what you wanted to say.

His lips fall open as he takes in a sharp breath, “What?”

“Or I guess did you love me? Before everything? Because Derek and JJ and Pen, they all said that you loved me, and now I can’t think about anything else, Spencer.”

He doesn’t speak, but you don't really give him a chance to.

“I just, I know I sound crazy right now, but I feel fucking crazy. I keep going over everything in my head, and I have been, for the past year I have been, but now it’s all different. It's all different because they said that you loved me, but you didn’t think I’d feel the same way.”

Here, you do pause, but he still doesn’t say anything, so you go on before you can stop yourself.

“Because if that's true, Spencer, it's just- I did. I do. And if it's not, then please just tell me so I can stop feeling this way.”

He sounds resigned when he says, “Y/n,” and you feel like you know what that means.

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I don’t know why I'm doing this. You don’t have to say anything. Actually, please don’t say anything. I don't think I can hear it. Just pretend I never-”

He cuts off your ramble, “Y/n, stop.”

You draw your eyes from the floor, look up at him, and find something in his gaze you have never seen before. He doesn’t say anything, just stares at you, and it takes everything you have not to look away. His hand raises to cup your jaw, and your skin lights on fire. Before you can process what he’s doing, you feel his lips press against yours, and something clicks. At first, his touch is light, like he’s giving you the chance to pull away. But, when he grasps that you won’t, he presses himself to you harder, and all you can think about is how nothing has ever felt so right.

His lips move against yours, and you don’t know how you're managing to reciprocate because it feels like everything in your body has gone fuzzy. The kiss is by no means long, but it feels like it lasts forever, and by the time he pulls away, you’re breathless.

His forehead stays connected to yours, and he whispers, “I do, Y/n, love you. I have.”

You don’t feel the tears on your cheeks until he’s wiping them away.

“Oh, Y/n.”

“Did you know? That you did? Is that why…”

You trail off, hoping he’ll pick up on what you're asking, and he does.

“I didn’t at first, or I didn’t realize I was falling in love with you until it happened. I got scared, so I ran. I just never thought that you could feel the same or that I was hurting you. I didn’t realize that. I just thought I was doing what was best for us. I felt guilty for being in love with my best friend.”

“And Maeve?”

“I loved Maeve. I’ll always have love for her. I was trying to move on, and I thought I could eventually be with her and be around you without it hurting. I wish I would have told you this before.”

“You’re telling me now. That's enough.”

This time, it's you who pushes your lips to meet his. Your arms snake around his neck, and his fall to your waist. You follow when he pulls you into his apartment and closes the door. There is still pain on both sides, but you can feel it dissipating as you cling to each other. You’re just two broken people who have finally found a way to each other.

This kiss is different, hungrier. Neither of you pulls away for longer than a few seconds as you navigate your way from his entryway to his couch. Every touch is desperate like you're searching for something you never knew existed until now. His hands pull you closer and closer until he's pulling you on top of him, and each of your legs rests on opposite sides of his hips.

Your lips break from his for a moment, “What do you want, Spence?”

His reply is instant, “You.”

From there, things move faster. Your hands unbutton his shirt and push it from his shoulders while he undoes your pants. There are moments of awkwardness that come with exploring another for the first time, but it feels good. His hands trace over your hips and push further until you're left on top of him in only your underwear and bra. He takes you in like you are something to be marveled at, and you know your eyes reflect the same adoration.

You raise yourself off of him and work to get him in the same state of undress as you, and when you position yourself on top of him, you feel his length press against your center. The two thin layers of fabric do little to hinder the intensity as you rock into him. He lets out quiet moans at the action as his lips trace down your neck and over your collarbone.

His breath ghosts over you and makes you shiver when he asks, “Can I touch you?”

“Please.”

His hand moves between the two of you, and his fingers find your clit easily, rubbing circles over the fabric of your panties. You pant his name against his lips at the action. You feel like your whole body is lit up, and under any other circumstance, you'd feel embarrassed at how worked up you are, but you can’t seem to care.

After a few moments, he lifts you up and carries you to his bedroom. From there, he positions you below him on the bed, removing your remaining clothes in the same motion. The new setup lets you grip him, and he feels big in your hand. His fingers resume their previous assault before dipping down into you. You cry out at the feeling of him inside you, slowly pushing in and out, finding a spot that makes your legs start to shake. He’s relentless in his pursuit and all you can muster up the energy to say is his name.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/n.”

It's somewhere between a whimper and a whisper, but the sound of his voice causes you to clench around his fingers.

He picks up on this, of course he does, and quickens his pace as he coos at you.

“So pretty like this. I’m so lucky.”

You’re embarrassingly close already, so when he moves his thumb over your clit to rub circles as he fucks into you with his fingers, you come undone almost instantly with a warning and cry of his name. He works you through your orgasm, all while whispering praise in your ear. Once you come down from your high, you start to push his boxers down his legs, but he stops you before you can fully.

“We don’t have to do anything more, Y/n. I liked just making you feel good.”

“I want more. I want to feel you if you want that too.”

“Of course I do. I just don’t want you to regret anything.”

“I couldn’t regret this, Spencer. I love you. I want all of you.”

It's the first time you’ve actually said those three words to him, and it feels so fucking good to say.

“I love you, too. God, so much.”

With that, he positions himself back on top of you, running his fingers over your slit gently before gripping himself.

“Do you have a condom?”

“I might somewhere, but I have an IUD, and I’m clean. I can try to find one if you’re more comfortable with that?”

“IUDs have a failure rate of around .05% and are largely considered the most effective form of birth control, so uh, as long as you're okay with it, I am.”

You smile to yourself at his statistic but nod, “I want to feel you, Spencer.”

He returns your smile before rubbing his length over your entrance a few times and slowly pushing himself into you just slightly. He teases you, or maybe himself, for a moment before fully entering you. You push your hips up to meet his, and feeling him in his entirety makes your jaw fall open. He’s big, and you feel unbelievably full.

He waits a moment for you to adjust before he starts to develop a rhythm. His hands are everywhere, but his eyes are focused solely on your face like he doesn’t want to miss a moment of your reaction to him inside of you. To be fair, you are probably putting on a good show. Every movement he makes hits you in exactly the right spot, and you don’t think you could be louder if you tried. You can feel the leg he’s not holding up against his shoulder shake against the bed. Your first orgasm has made way for your second to be incredibly close.

“Spencer, please.”

You’re crying out, desperate for a little more to push you over the edge.

“What do you need, baby?” His voice is tight like he’s not far himself, and it sounds better than anything you’ve ever heard.

“Harder. Please, harder.”

He takes your direction immediately, rubbing circles on your clit with one hand while he thrusts into you with a bruising force. He’s fucking you like he wants you to remember the feeling long after he stops, and you know that you will. Everything about it is overwhelming: his smell, his pace, his eyes. You are covered in him, and he is covered in you.

After a moment, the hand he had on your stomach trails up to grasp lightly at your throat, and you fall into feeling. You can’t warn him that you're about to come before you do. The feeling is white hot. Bigger than your first, and the fact that you're coming on him sends you into overdrive. You can feel his hips falter for a moment, but you're lost in a daze, crying out his name.

He pumps into you a few more times before he follows suit. He pulls out, and you feel stripes of his come paint your cunt and lower stomach as he finishes with a moan of your name.

He falls next to you on the bed, and it takes you both a few moments to collect yourselves and catch your breath.

Once you do, the only thing you can think to say is, “I love you.”

It feels like those are the only words circling around in your head at the moment. Some mixture of his name and that declaration. While you know you each said it before, that your profession was the exigence of the sex you just had, it feels uniquely vulnerable to say now. It’s like the moment you just had together could have changed things or made him realize that he doesn’t actually love you after all.

That shoe doesn’t drop, though. Instead, you hear the three words echoed back to you by a man who, 6 hours ago, you thought would never, ever say them.

You turn to face him, and the love on his face feels like it could knock you out. He’s looking at you and smiling in a way you haven't seen in a long time.

“Will you let me clean you up?”

You know that part of the reason he’s asking has something to do with the likelihood of bacteria growth or something like that, but you think it's mainly that he wants to take care of you. Him wetting a rag and running it over you feels intimate in a different way, in an excruciatingly gentle way. Personal in a way that makes you feel like nothing between you could ever be wrong again, and maybe that's naive to think, but you feel hopeful regardless.

Once he finishes, he takes his space back next to you in the bed. This time, he pulls you into his arms, and it's different than it was all those months ago. This time, you know that he won’t push you away and that you won't hurt yourself by being next to him. This time, you just tuck yourself into him, and you let him whisper sweet nothings into your ear as you begin to drift off. This time, it feels like peace.

~

The following day, you wake up to Spencer still next to you, looking incredibly soft in the early morning light. You search for a moment to find your phone in the piles of clothes and are greeted with a text from Pen.

How did it go????

You smile before turning your phone off and climbing back into bed next to the man you love. It couldn’t have gone better.

-

all done! yay!!!

i hope you guys love it!! i’m not 100% happy with the ending but i’ve been writing this for so long and just needed to be done.

this is my first time writing angst on here and my longest fic, so PLEASE tell me what you think! all (nice) feedback is welcome and i love to hear from you guys!! :)

[baeshijima]

thoughts on being engaged to duke!sunday, the head of the oak family, an incredibly influential figurehead within society, the close subordinate of emperor gopher wood who brought him and his sister in and raised him like his own, and the villain who faces a tragic ending in a novel you recently finished — the very same one you just so happen to find yourself transmigrated into. he is as cunning as he is blinded, a trait which brought ruin to many in the empire, and one which ultimately brought ruin to himself at the hands of the protagonists.

as luck would have it, you became a barely mentioned side character from a marquis family, whose role was to be the villain's wife stuck in a one-sided love who, too, would get caught up in the tragedy alongside him. however, now that it's you who is stuck in this position, you're determined to try any means necessary to deter him from going down that path, all in an effort to escape your predestined doomed fate!

of course, you didn't expect it to be easy. the day of your arrival in this world was already the night before your wedding, so you had little time to prepare yourself for the nonchalance of your supposed family, how they viewed you as but a means — a tool — to boost their influence and prosperity, the dismissive mannerisms of the household servants, and the absolute beauty of a man you will be married to.

(seriously. the novel descriptions did not do him justice. he was like... like... like he was handcrafted by god himself! and not to mention his sister, robin, was the very epitome of an angel! perhaps you're destined to perish by the god-tier visuals instead...)

to say the least, the wedding ceremony went by quickly. safe to say you didn't spend the night; he was cordial and gentlemanly upon letting you know that he won't do anything until you're ready, that you can take this relationship slow, but somehow you ended up feeling a tad insulted. like, who leaves their newly wedded alone in a big cold bed as they walk out on their own? a sick bastard that's who!

well, whatever. it's not like you need nor want to consummate with him! besides, you have bigger things to worry about — things such as your impending death. and, of course, the only way to stop sunday that you can imagine working is by chipping away at his resolve bit by bit, and opening his eyes to reality.

he is a tragic character, one who cares more about the well-being of penacony and its people than anyone else, but was manipulated into getting his hands dirty in the emperor's stead. you knew this. you sobbed over his story, cursed out the protagonists, and even fought internet randos on novel forums about sunday's motivation and how,

no, he is not just a stupid villain. he is a complex character with flaws and humanity and was cruelly taken advantage of by someone he considered family. he was deceived through the suffering the emperor wanted him to see to make him easily manipulated, creating a rift between him and robin to have that prominent separation. you know what? maybe you're just a !%#@ who can't even #@?"% read properly!

and yet you still find yourself at a loss when faced with the walls he has in place. your initial efforts went as well as it possibly could have; you trying to earnestly help him, while he "kindly" dismisses your offers! well, "kindly" being more condescending since you could read between the lines of his mannerisms and amiable demeanour, but that's fine! you expected this! that just means you have to double down on your sincerity, get through to his heart (somehow), and help him realise humanity isn't as weak as he's led to believe!

you have three years until the novel's plot officially starts, and another year after that until your demise. that's plenty of time to get him to warm up to you!

it was easier said than done, but after your valiant effort and abundance of time put into this relationship, which admittedly you could do with some of that lost time back, you could give yourself a pat on the back with the progress you made! while you definitely could have done without a lot of the headaches, it's safe to say sunday has significantly warmed up to you in comparison to your wedding day. he now willingly eats all his meals with you with some real conversation, takes garden strolls with you in the early evenings, invites you out for dinner at a restaurant at least four times a week, hell he's even joked and laughed with you more frequently! but most importantly, he has begun asking for your opinion before finalising any decisions he is required to make. and he actually listens and considers your side! now, that certainly is the best outcome you could hope for after all this time, and it most definitely will help in your endeavour to save you both from the protagonists!

however, you've noticed he's been more... affectionate? well, at the very least he now willingly holds your hand when in private (not just in moments when you're in the public eye and he has to make sure the family's reputation is spotless), sometimes he will hug you out of the blue ("i just need to... recharge. you have a way of calming me down. i hope you don't mind." ...how could you say no to his supreme god-tier face card? that's just a losing battle you won't even bother fighting against.), oftentimes he opts to just gaze wordlessly at you (robin had mentioned over one of your tea times how it almost appears as though there is no one but you in the world when sunday gazes at you with, in her words, "the eyes of a man so deeply in love!" ...whatever that's supposed to mean...), but a more recent development has been his sudden interest in kissing you; well, more specifically giving you a kiss to the back of your hand or on your forehead — certainly not anywhere near the lips! (besides, he's probably just gotten comfortable with you, enough where he can freely act without judgement. nothing more, nothing less.)

well, either way, development is development! soon enough, the time for the main plot to start has arrived. it of course follows what you remember, from the organised balls to the protagonists meeting to the political aspects of it all. the only difference is sunday's less active involvement in all the schemes and the emperor's ploy. rather, he seems more focused on you and the future of your marriage and even displayed a sudden interest in your practically non-existent relationship with one of the foreign diplomats, aventurine— wait...

"[name]," he calls your name out so sweetly you nearly disregarded it as someone else he was talking to. well, perhaps you would have done had he not suddenly appeared before you, a tight-lipped smile tugging the corners of his lips as he steadily approaches you.

oh. he doesn't seem very happy, if his tense figure is anything to go by. you wonder if one of the nobles grated his nerves a little too much this time?

sunday comes to a halt a step away from you. "i don't like that... gambler being so close to you. it... it brings me a rather unpleasant feeling." there's a slight, trembling pause. not a moment later does he close the gap between you, one knee on the ground as he matches your seated height on the fountain rim, your hands gently enclosed in both of his.

you idly wonder if this is what robin meant by the so-called "eyes of a man so deeply in love" she constantly gushed about, for the way in which he gazes up at you is enough to render you breathless.

"tell me, [name]," he begins once more. there is an underlying desperation woven within his tone, one which has your head spinning and heart thumping wildly as his trembling gaze holds you in place. "tell me, what am i to do with this fervent love and overwhelming adoration i hold for you?"

oh.

...oh.

perhaps your impending doom should be the least of your concerns when you now find yourself in the arms of a clingy husband...

(though, it's safe to say you did, in fact, manage to prevent him from succumbing to his tragic fate! you just gained a loving, yet slight slightly emotionally challenged husband along the way.

well, you can help him work through it; you have the rest of your lives now to figure it out, after all.)

[tbaluver]

When You Randomly Turn Into A Cat- The Love And DeepSpace Men

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader synopsis: a day where you randomly turn into a cat and how they love and deep space men would take care and spend the day with you ! genre: silly and cute a/n: hihi lovelies! sorry this took so long to write i had to channel in all the cat videos i loved and seen and put it into each scenario for each men ! (ᵕ—ᴗ—) i also had to make sure some cat facts were true or not just in case and also because i don't own a cat but i rlly want one (•ᴗ•,, ) i hope you all enjoy ! ^•ﻌ•^ฅ♡ If any new readers are here you can read where the men turn into cats here; When They Turn Into Cats any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier /ᐠ˵- ᴗ -˵マ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 :

Xavier wasn't particularly shocked that you would turn into a cat but truly surprised him was the timing of it. You both speculated that his transformation one time might be linked to his recent handling of a Protocore and it would eventually spread to you. He just didn't anticipate that this would happen in the middle of a mission. Fortunately, he managed to defeat the remaining Wanderers, scooping you up along with your clothes, and bring you both safely back home.

There were no answers on the internet on what to do when your partner turns into a cat. He doesn't understand how you did so well when you took care of him when he randomly turned into one. He only wishes that he can do the same for you as you did with him.

The first step Xavier does is search for any leftover cat food but finds nothing so he takes you along to the grocery store. He'll gently place you in the baby seat of the shopping cat, determined to find the best options for you. He scrutinizes every brand of cat food and snack, carefully considering what you might like. To ensure you would have everything you could possibly need, he ends up buying far more than necessary, his cart basically overflowing with a mountain of cat supplies.

When you both return home, there is no doubt that Xavier showers you with affection. He lavishes you with cuddles and kisses in between your ears. He finds your feline form to be cute and can't help but pet you, his fingers gently brushing through your soft fur. You enjoy in the soothing touch, arching your back in contentment as he continues his gentle caress. The two of you settle into a cozy spot for nap, as he drifts off to sleep to the comforting rhythm of your adorable purrs and you fall asleep to his gentle caress. You've always been a source of comfort for him and you still are even in this tiny cat form.

Xavier can't help but feel a little jealous when he finds you curled up on the plushies that he won you in the claw machine, instead of you nestled comfortably on his lap or cradled in his arms. It stings a little to see you so content with the plushie and wishes that it was him to provide you with that comfort. Same thing when you knead your plushies with your paws, he can't help but feel envy, wishing that direct attention was towards him instead.

To keep you entertained as a cat, Xavier downloads a few interactive cat games on his phone. He places the phone down, allowing you to paw at the moving images and you pretend as if you were catching them. Another way he can play with you is using playful revenge on your plushies. He watches with amusement as you pounce and swat at the plush toys, your antics providing both of you with entertainment.

Whenever Xavier grabs a snack, he makes sure you feel included in the moment. He helps you to select a treat you want to try by holding it out and shares it with you, making sure you have your own little snack to enjoy alongside with him.

When it was night time and time for bed, even though both of you took several naps the entire day, he prepares for bed. He settles beside you, gently reaching out to stroke your fur with a soothing touch. Carefully, he pulls the blanket up, tucking it around the both of you to create a comfy cocoon. As he holds you clos, he presses tender kisses to the top of your head. "Goodnight honey. No matter what form you're in, you'll always be my partner for life." He whispers, eagerly waiting for the morning to come so you'll be back in your human form.

Zayne /ᐠ - ˕ -マ :

It was Zayne’s day off and he was in the kitchen, preparing a delicious and nutritious meal for the two of you. Meanwhile, you were in the living room, browsing through DVDs or anything you can find on the TV to watch for your movie marathon. You both chatted back and forth while he worked in the kitchen as you continued to browse in the living room until minutes ticked by and he noticed you were quiet. Out of curiosity, he peeks through the kitchen and sees the living room empty. He calls out for you but he is met with no response. A wave of concern washes over him as he quickly turns off the stove and makes his way to the living room to find a bewildered cat.

He sighs deeply, knowing this all too well. He had experienced this bizarre transformation himself not too long ago. A smile creeps up on his lips as he crouches down, extending a hand to your feline form. “I guess I have to make a different lunch for you now.” He murmurs as you brush against his hand.

He’ll find the cat food that you fed him when he once turned into a cat randomly one day and he’ll feed that to you. He knows that the mixed kibble was unappetizing but as he scooped up a portion and placed it in front of you, he gave you a reassuring soft smile. He gently pats your head, his fingers brushing through your fur to offer some reassurance as you hesitantly ate the food. As you eat, he promises that he’ll buy you some yummy foods when you’re back to normal.

Since it was his day off, he'll finish up any chores around the house. He gathered all the freshly laundered clothes out of the dryer as you trailed after him. When he sets the basket down in your shared room, you couldn't resist the inviting warmth of the freshly dried clothes and hopped right into the basket. You nestled inside the fluffy pile, your body curling up into it. The warmth and softness was irresistible and not too long you find yourself drifting off into sleep. His gaze would soften when he finally notices you inside of the basket, smiling fondly at the sight. He scoops you up, cradling you carefully before placing you gently on your shared bed.

Once he finished folding the clothes, he returned to you. Your eyes slowly flutters open and to help ease you into waking up, he carefully extends your limbs, stretching your front paws upwards.

Zayne would make sure to play with you so you're not bored the entire day. Sometimes when he has do some other chores, he'll leave the TV on so you can go watch. Or he'll gather a selection of plushies you both had won from the claw machine and toss them around as you pounce and batted at the plushies. If you weren't feeling the plushies anymore, he'll reach for the laser pointer he uses for panel discussions and watches in amusement as you chase it around.

Although it was his day off, he still chooses to do a couple hospital reports. While he's busy typing away on the computer, he lets you curl into his lap as he finishes up his work. Despite his best efforts to stay concentrated, you made it a habit of hopping in front of his computer, inserting yourself in front of him to grab his attention. It seems your stubbornness remains even if you were a cat because this goes on for a couple of minutes. "Behave." He would gently scoop you back into his lap or nudge you aside and you would end up back in front of his computer, blocking his hands from typing on his keyboard. It was impossible to ignore you, melting at the small feline form in front of him. Folding, his hands instinctively find their way to scratch the back of your ears. He would take this as a sign to finally take a break and enjoy his day off with you, even if you were a cat.

As nightfall arrived, you trailed after him into the bathroom where he began his nightly routines. You were perched on the counter, watching him do your skin care routine that you both normally do. He made sure you felt included, using a small brush and gently groomed your fur.

He scoops you up after he finishes his routine and carried you to the bedroom. He places a gentle kiss between your ears, right on the top of your head. He placed you gently onto the bed, arranging the covers and settles beside you. "Even though you're adorable as a cat," he murmurs softly, "I miss you. Come back soon, my love." He whispers, eagerly waiting for morning to come when you return back to your human form.

Rafayel ฅᨐฅ :

A wave of emotions washed over him. Fear. Panic. Uneasiness. His lover has turned into something he had feared the most. A wanderer? No. Worse. A cat. What gods has he upset for this too happen? Why must he go through so much feline presence in his life? For him to be one and now you?

Rafayel would snap out of his daze as you began to nuzzle against his legs. Slowly, he'd start to come to terms with the idea of having you as a cat for a day might not be as daunting as he initially feared. Nuzzling against his legs gave him a reassuring contact of your soft fur and helped him realize that you wouldn't do anything to harm him. You were still his caring and beloved partner and he will continue to love you even if you were a cat. It wouldn't be so bad or so he thought.

In this cat form it seems you have the zoomies. He expected you to be a laid back cat but instead, you had turned his entire day into a constant adventure. Not only are you darting around the house with enthusiasm but you're also sneaking into every nook and cranny. You've slipped in behind shelves, climbing into fragile small statues around his studio, and even perching on the edges of delicates vases.

Rafayel would constantly be on the move, trying to keep up with your mischief. One time you had darted into the kitchen cabinets, where all his expensive glassware was located. You refused to come down despite his pleas and he wonders if you were just being stubborn or if you were just having too much fun teasing him. When he manages to catch you, he wraps you into a blanket, like a burrito to keep you still. He smirks as you meow in protest and he returns to his painting, chatting with you softly as he works.

When you're finally out of your zoomies, he'll let you go from the blanket but he'll only regret that later. You approach him, holding out a fish plushie and he thought you were hungry but truly you just wanted to play. "Hey fish aren't food!" He huffs, a pout forming on his lips as he gently removes the plushie from your mouth and crosses his arms in mock disapproval. "I want my cutie back....this cat is slowly turning her into a monster....."

He'll take this as a sign to go find you some food. Food that isn't fish related. He'll make sure to find something that's good and the best rated cat food for you.

Whenever there a fly or bug that made its way into his studio, Rafayel would make you help to catching it. In your human form, you'd be squeamish about dealing with insects and would leave the tasks to him. But now since you're a cat, you're fascinated by the challenge of catching it. He would gently lift you into the air, holding you up so high so you could get a better shot at the tiny intruders. He'll give you a mix of encouragement and amusements as you grab the bugs with your paws.

You are Rafayel's muse and he's determined to keep you in that role. He'll position you on a stool where you stand tall, ready to be the subject of his art. You meow in protest, growing fatigued but he urges you to stay still just for a little longer. The finished sketches of you s a cat turned out to be truly adorable once you see them later. You don't know how he's so uneasy around cats.

As nightfall came around, he settles beside you in bed. Typically you would be curled up together, foreheads against each other but tonight is different with your smaller, feline form. He stays close, tenderly brushing your fur as if it were your hair. His eyes were growing heavy with sleep and he whisper softly, "No matter if you're a cat, a goose, or anything else, my heart's deepest wish is to be with you in every form in every life time. Sleep well my beloved. I shall see you again in the morning."

Sylus ≽^-˕-^≼ :

Sylus would be informed by Mephisto that you turned into a cat. He was initially be taken aback but quickly settled into a knowing smile, knowing this experience of a similar transformation himself. He would immediately find you and when he does, he tries his best not to snicker from how amusing this was but it came out anyway. It seems you have taken the nickname Kitten, a little to seriously. You would protest in meows and his snicker would turn into a louder laugh and your cat ears turn into airplane mode.

He reaches for his phone and scoops you up to settle you into his lap. He adjusts the screen so it was perfectly angled for you to also see as his other free hand gently stroked your fur. He scrolled through various stores, adding items to his cart with things you might enjoy or need in this temporary form. He'll know you were interested in it when you paw at the screen, lowly chuckling in amusement as you do so. Not wanting to leave your side, he orders Luke and Kieran to pick up what he ordered.

You didn’t think it would be even possible for this man to be more affectionate with you even if you were a cat. He would pepper your head and nose with lots of kisses and he would find it even more amusing when you would place your paw on his mouth to stop. He doesn’t listen and continues to do so anyway, finding this cat form of you to be adorable. He also loves to brush his fingertips against your paw/ toe beans. He’s careful to not apply too much pressure on them so he doesn’t hurt you.

Mephisto may not be your biggest fan ever in your human form, but he's definitely not warming up to you as a cat either. In this cat form of yours, you have an enhanced agility that helps you jump and try to catch him on his perch. Your attempts to chase him around the house seem to get intense that Sylus had to step in and separate you two so you both can behave.

In this cat form, it seems as your cat senses heightened, driving you to explore the house in new ways you haven’t before. You find yourself climbing onto high shelves and underestimating just how high up you were up. Sylus noticing your predicament, he would sigh and grab a basket to help you climb down. However, your fear of falling to your demise, you meow in protest as you tremble at the idea.

You tried to place a paw into the basket, in hopes to provide a safe descent but looking down and how light the basket was, made you freeze in place. You backed away and retreated further into the shelf. “It’s okay. I got you,” He would reassure you, his voice calm and soothing. Despite his efforts of holding the basket out for you to jump into, you continued to meow in protest, clearing preferring the direct approach of being lifted down by his hands instead. He finally caught on when you ignored his third attempt with the basket and instead reached out with his hands as you crawled towards his forearms. Once you are finally safe in his arms, he strokes your fur with tender care. He lets out a soft sigh, “You really don’t want to make it easy for me don’t you kitten?” He murmurs, "meow."

When it was dinner time, you'd perch on the kitchen counter beside Sylus, watching with curious eyes as he hummed contentedly while preparing his meal before preparing your cat meal. He carefully selects the best rated cat food, ensuring it was packed with essential nutrients and vitamins. After serving you with the cat food, he would spoil you with a few tasty cat treats, hoping they would be a little more enjoyable for you than the cat food. His attention to your needs will always be attentive even if you were a cat.

After you both settled into bed, Sylus lies on his back, inviting you to curl up on his chest. As your eyes fluttered close, a content purr rumbles through your body and he can feel the gentle vibrations against him. He strokes your fur tenderly, his own eyes heavy with sleep. He murmurs as he wishes you a goodnight, "Goodnight princess. I hope to see you in my dreams and see you back in my arm again when I wake up."

[writingouthere]

bestfriendsbrother!Sukuna x pregnant!reader one-shot

summary: you're excited to finally share with all your friends that your pregnant when the party is interrupted by your best friend's older brother, who you didn't invite, but who you did have unprotected sex with less than two months ago.

cw: reader is pregnant, Sukuna is a bad dude, possessive behavior, minor smut, still as usual nicer than it sounds because I can't help it.

**************

"I'm pregnant!"

Your news is met with a period of silence before your friends look at each other, uncertain as to how to react.

Nobara finally breaks the silence, an eyebrow raised. "And we feel...."

"We're happy about it," you say and your friends are then quick to congratulate you. You hear some sort of scuffling happening behind you and you turn around to see Yuuji unfolding a "We're having a Baby!" banner which makes Megumi nearly jump out of his chair.

"Holy shit, did you two-"

"No!"

"Ew, no!"

Yuuji frowns at you. "The 'ew' wasn't necessary."

You and Nobara scoff. "It was," you tell him. "And I say that with all my love."

"Okay, so if this idiot didn't knock you up-"

"Hey!"

"-then who did?"

You'd been expecting the question and had prepared for it. "It was just a one night stand, he's not really father material." Everyone looks like they want to ask more questions so you smile at them, genuinely happy they all look ready to commit a crime for you. "It's okay, I have a good job and this is something I've wanted for a long time. This baby will be really loved because it will have me and, I hope, all of you."

Your friends are quick to agree and there's some lighter questions about potential names, nurseries and Nobara and Todo are looking at her phone debating baby onesies, when the door to you and Yuuji's apartment opens and someone you had definitely not invited comes in.

"Sukuna! You're late, you missed the big news," Yuuji calls out as he walks over and claps his brother on the back. A few people call out greetings as Yuuji's older brother looks around the apartment. His eyes linger on you for a second, a smirk tugging up on his lip before he notices the sign hanging crooked over the kitchen doorway and he laughs without an ounce of humor.

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me, you knocked someone up? You irresponsible piece of shit-"

"It's not his and don't kill him, you asshole," Megumi says from where he has now joined the onesies discussion and points over at you. "It's the other person who lives here."

Sukuna pauses from where he was about to murder his brother, to look back over at you. You wonder if his brain is doing the same cursed math that you had done when you were hyperventilating, holding a stick covered in your own pee, but before he could ask anything, Maki ended the silent stand off.

"And we're happy about it, so get happy you piece of shit."

With that, the party continues on, people breaking off until little groups and snacks being placed strategically throughout the apartment.

You're feeling thirsty, and a little exhausted from the burning stare that's been directed at you for the past hour when you excuse yourself from where Miwa and Mechamaru had been talking about their own future plans for children, who you're sure would be socially inept but gorgeous enough to make up for it, and made your way to the kitchen.

You were pulling out some water, no alcohol for you even though you really needed it, when you felt someone's presence behind you.

"So when were you going to tell me we were having a baby?"

"Never, because it's not yours," you answered firmly, slamming the door to the fridge for good measure. Sukuna leaned against the cabinet next to you but you'd known him long enough to see the pose for what it was. A ruse, a performance of casualness. The fingers on his hand tapped against his arm like he was playing the piano, one of the few tics he had that showed when he was feeling, well just feeling anything in general.

"Oh please, you're not fucking anyone else."

"You don't know that and we're not fucking, we fucked once. Singular, past tense."

He laughed and looked down at you, the same predatory look he'd had the night he'd helped you make this child.

"And once was all it took huh? Fucked you so good, you're going to have my baby," he says, voice mocking and he stands up to his full height which puts him over you. He takes the glass of water you're really regretting now, and places it on the counter opposite the two of you.

"It-it's not your baby," but you don't sound sure and he knows it and he presses up against you until your back is to the counter. Nowhere for you to run.

"It's mine, just like you're mine. I don't know who you think you're kidding with this denial of me but it's done now, sweetheart."

You go to answer him and Sukuna covers your mouth with his hand like the rude fuck he is and then leans down, his mouth next to your ear. You look around, worried someone might see you but the gap between the fridge and the counter conceals you both and the room next to you keeps getting louder and louder. The sun had set and there were maybe some lamps in the living room, but here in the kitchen it was dark.

"I let you have your space and your time, two months of it actually. I let you have your little moral crisis about fucking a criminal and it being the best dick you've ever had wah wah, but I was impatient before I knew you were having my baby, and now," he leans back so his eyes, and they're on fire his eyes, are level with yours. "I'm done waiting."

You tug on Sukuna's hand and he rolls his eyes before removing it from your mouth and places it on your hip which doesn't seem like a good trade-off but at least you can speak again.

"What does that even mean?" You ask him, your voice showing the incredulity you're feeling but if Sukuna had anything, it was audacity.

"I mean I'll give you a week to tell your friends you're having our baby and that we're getting married." He says it so seriously that you can't help but laugh which seems to be the wrong response when his other hand moves to your hip as well and squeezes, tight.

"We are not getting married, are you out of your mind?"

"Why not, we're already having a baby, are you going to deny me the ability to live with my own child."

"Still not your kid, and we can't get married Sukuna. We never even dated! We fucked one time, that doesn't mean we should just be together forever."

"We fucked for one night, it was more than one time-"

"Not the argument you think it is," you interrupt him but you still let him pick you up and place you on the counter. You sit there while he runs his hands up and down your thighs, the sounds of the party washing over the two of you as you stay in your little bubble.

"We'd be good together," he finally says. "Not just because I knocked you up on the first try." You hit him but he just smirks and moves his hands more purposefully on your legs. You let him pull them apart and step between them even though warning bells are going off in your head, telling you these are moves you'd seen before and they had led to you being in the predicament the two of you were debating in the first place.

"It's inevitable, the two of us. You can say you hate me, or that I'm not a good man, and that's true. But there's a reason why you've never stayed with any of those nice boys," he says and his hands slips up the skirt you're wearing to get at your bare thighs underneath. "Because you don't want a nice guy, you don't want a good man, you want me and I'm too selfish to let you keep torturing both of us by doing this pretending shit."

The fingers on his right hand press against your cunt through your panties while his other hand squeezes your thigh and he moans sinfully into the quiet air.

"God, I knew I didn't make up this warm, wet cunt. Been fucking my fist until I chafed the past two months just thinking about it."

You whimper as he moves your underwear aside and slips one finger up and down your slit, not touching your clit or going where you want him, but doing enough that you move against his hand.

"This does not mean that we should get married," you protest and he teases a finger against your opening, pulling it back when your hips tilt up in an attempt to get him where you want.

"Why not? I heard pregnant women get super horny, what are you going to do without me around to make sure this filthy pussy gets stuffed just the way she needs." He finally slips one finger in, his thumb moving to tease against your clit, just the way you like it and your head smacks back against the cabinet. He moves the hand that had been on your thigh up so he can cradle your head.

"I'm sure I could find someone willing to help me out," you say scoffing and his hand freezes which makes you whine a little and try to get him to move again but his legs limit your range of motion.

"You ever try to fuck someone else ever again and the coroner is going to have to get dental records to figure out who the dumb fuck with no fingers, no eyes and no cock is, you got it?"

He's not joking, you know he's not joking but it doesn't stop you from leaning forward until you finally get your lips on his. He hums into your kiss, cupping your cheek in his free hand while the other one goes back to opening you up. You're so wet that the kitchen fills with the sounds of his him finger fucking your cunt but you can't even find it in yourself to be embarrassed. He's not wrong that pregnancy has made you more sensitive, or maybe it's just you not having gotten laid since the two of you had slept together.

He's got three fingers in you when you come and he swallows your moans greedily with mouth while his fingers slow inside of you, curving just right to make you think you could probably come again soon, oversensitive or not.

Before you can test that out, he pulls away from you. He licks the fingers he pulled out of you clean and you you're reminded of how the last time he'd made you come twice just with his mouth.

"Where are you going?" you ask him, a little more breathless than you like.

"We are going home," he tells you, grabbing your hands and helping you down off the counter. Giving you a kiss on your forehead that you would tease him for if you were anyone else.

"Home?" you ask, confused because you are currently standing in your apartment unless his orgasms suddenly give one the power to teleport.

"Yeah, our home, not the shitty apartment you share with my brother. I mean we'll have to get somewhere bigger soon, for our baby."

For the first time since you found out you were pregnant, someone who was not you laid out their palm on your still just the same stomach. There was no change from how it always looked but Sukuna looked smug just the same and you felt like you were still missing a few things.

"What-"

"I mean I can fuck you here, I just thought your sensibilities and the fact your friends were all out there would make you uncomfortable."

Your post orgasm flush finally leaves you and you look up at him in panic. "Oh my god, do you think someone saw-"

"It's okay, Fushiguro kept them out I'm sure."

You don't want to know but ask anyway. "Why?"

"Because he walked in earlier and looked like he'd seen a ghost. Tell me, is the kid still a virgin? He's pretty but I can't imagine he has a lot of good options in your crowd."

When you leave to go to Sukuna's, the only people who don't look confused(or horrified in Yuuji's case) at your departure are Maki and Megumi.

If the confusion hadn't been cleared up by the time the baby came, the pink hair probably answered any follow up questions.

dealing with some writer's block and had this idea. didn't feel like writing a whole smut scene, my b but saving that energy for the next(?) neighborsukuna x singlemom one.

side note: Megumi is scarred for life, for sure. Yuuji gets over his horror once he's an uncle.

[mikashisus]

Maybe One Day

SYNOPSIS: kinich was sure about his feelings for you, and he was aware of the ones you harbored for him. yet, there’s one thing stopping him from telling you…

PAIRING: kinich x gn!reader

warnings: slight angst, subtle die jokes

wc: 1.6k

notes: mostly fluff, but u guys know me by now, i can’t ever write anything without angst in it. played thru a bit of the 5.0 quest (NO SPOILERS GUYS!!!!) and i actually love kinich sm. another one of those quiet but gentle characters (๑>◡<๑) reminds me a bit of xiao - and that’s not bc of the color scheme lol. anyw enjoy!

part 2!

Pen scratched loudly against paper as you eagerly jotted down more notes in your journal.

Early mornings high in the canopy of trees were serene and chilly. It was still a long while until the sun would rise, and when it did, you'd return to the villa the locals offered you and continue your work inside.

The sweltering heat of Natlan was nothing to scoff at. You've been to Sumeru before, where there was hot weather all year round. Yet, just when you had gotten used to the heat, the research for your thesis demanded you to go somewhere even hotter: Natlan.

You couldn't handle hot weather. Whenever the weather reached just above what one could describe as 'warm,' you felt like you were going to melt into a puddle on the ground. That's why you knocked out all of your research in the early morning, when it was cooler, and retired to your lodging after the sun rose so you could avoid a potential heatstroke.

Already, you began to feel a shift in temperature as dim light peered over the horizon. It was easy to see the sunrise from here, perched in this gargantuan tree.

It was peaceful up here, and it gave you a wonderful view of the whole of Natlan. You could see King Deshret's Mausoleum from this height, too, and you silently thanked yourself for not ever being interested in his ancient technology.

If you had to stay in the desert for a prolonged period of time, you would’ve found a hole to crawl in and never crawl back out.

On the way to Natlan six months ago, your escort told you that the only way to get there was through the desert. He knew of your great distaste for hot weather, and so he was fully prepared to hear you whine and throw a tantrum over the ordeal. However, instead, all you did was pout and tell him to get a move on and "get this over with."

A cramp formed in your hand, and you had to pause your note taking.

As you massaged your hand, you admired the first signs of light creeping over the horizon and allowed yourself to get lost in the sounds around you: Water rushing from the nearby waterfall, the chirping of birds, the rustling of foliage, and the bellowing of Yumkasaurs. You could faintly hear the whispers of the locals as they exited their houses, though their conversations were incoherent from this distance.

Although the weather was atrocious, you absolutely adored the sights and the sounds of Natlan. It felt lively and bright.

You opened your eyes and looked down at your journal. Five more paragraphs to go before you could rest for today.

"I was told you've been up here for quite a while," a soft voice interrupted, causing you to jump, "didn't I tell you to take more breaks, Northerner?"

Your lantern knocked over, and you quickly reached forward, catching it before it could fall victim to its inevitable demise in the valley below. You were incredibly high up. You could barely see the ground from here, much less where the waterfall beneath you ended.

Breathing a sigh of relief, you placed the lantern back at your side and turned to your visitor, who wore an amusing smirk on his face.

"And didn't I tell you not to sneak up on me like that, Kinich?"

The boy in question didn't answer you. Silently, he joined you at your side, and that was when you spotted the bowl of grainfruits he held in his hand. He offered it to you.

"Breaks are necessary, you know. Especially when working on research papers."

You took a bite out of one of the fruits and sighed. "I'm well aware. But I came here solely for my thesis, not for a vacation. Besides, if I was given a vacation, I probably would've chosen to go—“

"'Home'?" He finished. You nodded.

"Yeah. I would've gone home." Another sigh, longer this time, left your lips.

"You miss Mondstadt, then?" He asked, taking a bite out of a grainfruit and setting the bowl between you two.

"You bet I do!" you exclaimed, flipping back to the first page of your journal. Notes from your entire family occupied the page. You gently ran your fingers over them.

“Before I left Dornman Port, my family gave me this journal and told me to do great things in Sumeru. They even wrote me notes as a reminder to 'keep pushing when times get tough.’”

Your family knew you too well. They knew you were someone who pushed themselves way too hard— an overachiever.

Whenever you felt burnt out, you read their notes, and it gave you the motivation to keep going. To keep achieving great things. To seek the answer to what ‘freedom’ truly meant to you through your experiences.

Kinich was silent for a few moments. He was someone who preferred silence, and oddly enough, you were too. Though, it hadn't seemed that way when the two of you first met.

When you first met, you had just arrived in the settlement belonging to the Scions of the Canopy, and you were just about ready to collapse onto the ground because of heat exhaustion.

Thankfully, you were aided by not only Kinich— who happened to be nearby —but also a few others from his tribe. When you recovered, you complained to the high heavens about the heat, and Kinich was very close to dragging you up Teticpac Peak just to push you off. He already heard enough whining from Ajaw, he didn't need to hear more from a foreigner who never once stepped foot in Natlan.

He was fully prepared to ignore you from that day forward, only to become intrigued when he got a glimpse of your research.

Later, he was surprised to find out you were actually from Mondstadt, the Crown of the North. Not only that, but you were from the far, far north reaches of Mondstadt— Dornman Port —nearing the border of Snezhnaya; And suddenly, all your complaining about the weather made sense.

Although the two of you were mostly polar opposites, you became fast friends, and Kinich's favorite way to say hello was to sneak up on you when you least expected him to.

His interest in you eventually became noticeable to Ajaw, and as soon as that little yellow and green bastard pointed it out one night, Kinich knew he had to lock him away whenever you were near.

He couldn't risk the chances of Ajaw blurting it out in front of you.

He wanted to believe you felt the same way. After all, you would've gotten tired of him by now if you didn’t. That, or you might've stayed away from him simply because he looked a little intimidating. Either way, he was glad you stuck around.

He ignored the voice in the back of his head telling him you'd one day have to leave.

As soon as you wrapped up your research in Natlan, you'd have to return to Sumeru's Akademiya and continue on with your life. Maybe you'd even take a trip back home to Mondstadt to see your family and possibly even attend a festival.

He remembered hearing you talk about one of them, a seemingly important one. It was one that he couldn't pronounce for the life of him, but he loved hearing you say it because he liked hearing you speak in Mondstadt's language.

He wondered what a Statue of the Seven even looked like in Mondstadt. He had never seen any pictures of one, not even a picture of what Mondstadt's Archon looked like. From rumors, he heard the Anemo Archon was completely absent from Mondstadt, and you somewhat confirmed those rumors.

"I wouldn't say Lord Barbatos is completely absent," you said once when he asked, "we believe the wind in Mondstadt is Lord Barbatos himself. So with that logic, he's still with us, just not physically like other Archons."

You sighed softly, finishing off the last grainfruit in the bowl. "Thanks Kinich."

Sending him one of your dazzling smiles that always made his heart beat a little faster, you scooted closer to him and bumped his shoulder with your own.

He raised a brow in confusion. "What for?"

"Everything, I think…” You answered. “For helping me when I first arrived here, for always looking out for me... I'm really thankful."

He was silent, though you knew his silence was not him being dismissive. He was either pondering, or he just didn't know what to say in response.

Eventually, he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you close. The sudden action made you tense up before you relaxed against him and rested your head on his shoulder.

The sun was rising over the horizon now, and you could deal with the rise in temperature for a while if it meant you got to stay like this with him.

"Don't thank me for anything." He said finally, under his breath.

Maybe one day, he'd tell you of his feelings, because now he was sure of how you felt towards him. But today was not that day.

Time was counting down to the day you had to leave, and he knew he wasn't ready for you to go so soon. Six months had come and gone in a flash.

It wasn't goodbye for good, as you swore you'd come back to Natlan the next time you had the chance— whether it be for research or for a much needed vacation. Yet, a goodbye, regardless of if it was a "see you later" or a proper "goodbye," it still hurt all the same.

Maybe one day, when the war in Natlan came to a close, you could show Kinich around your homeland, just as he did with you. But until that day came, Kinich would wait.

As long as it took. "As long as the wind blows," like you'd often say.

notes: i have a discord server! join if u’d like to chill and hangout! it’s fun, i promise :))

© 2024 mikashisus. do not plagiarize, copy, repost, feed to ai, or translate my works to any other platforms.

[pastryfication]

hi!!! can we get an ollie x reader, frustrated after he misses out on q3 in baku, and fully melts into his gfs arms when he’s out of the car. until someone from the team has to steer him away to the media pen

i guess that's the best i can do

pairing: ollie bearman x reader

note: i absolutely adore writing hurt/comfort so thank u for this request <33 i know it’s been over a month since u requested, and i’m so sorry for that, but i hope u still like it

the streets of baku were unforgiving that day, the tight corners and narrow straights biting harder than ollie had expected as he got into the car. he knew it wasn’t going to be easy, but missing out on q3—by just a fraction—hurt more than he wanted to admit.

he climbs out of the car quickly, his helmet still on, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. the moment he’s out of the cockpit, the frustration floods him. all those laps, the careful management, and it still wasn’t enough. he slams the steering wheel back in place a little harder than necessary, trying to keep the emotions from boiling over in front of the cameras. the pit crew is busy around him, preparing for the post-qualifying debrief, but all he can think about is how close he came.

he catches sight of you standing just outside of the garage, your face soft with understanding. it’s as if you know exactly how he’s feeling before he even reaches you. you offer a small smile, but ollie’s expression doesn’t budge. he pulls off his helmet and then his baclava, running a hand through his sweaty hair, before walking over to you, his shoulders heavy with disappointment.

as soon as he’s close enough, he drops his helmet onto the ground beside you and crashes into your arms without a word. his hands grip tightly onto your waist, his forehead resting heavily against your shoulder, as if all the tension and frustration can somehow seep out through the contact. for a long moment, he just stands there, holding on, and you can feel the shuddering breath he lets out.

you wrap your arms around him, holding him close, your hand gently stroking the back of his neck, offering silent comfort. his body, taut with frustration and anger just moments ago, begins to sag against yours, melting into your embrace. he’s letting it all go, just for a moment, here with you, where it’s safe to be vulnerable—where he can show his true emotions.

“you were absolutely brilliant out there,” you whisper softly into his ear, trying to sooth the storm brewing inside him. “so close, ollie. you fought so hard.”

he doesn’t say anything at first, his face still buried in the crook of your neck, his arms clinging to you as if he's afraid you'll disappear. you can feel the rise and fall of his chest, deep breaths as he tries to calm down, to find the words he wants to say. his grip on you tightens even further for a second, as if he needs to hold on to something stable, something real, before he can speak.

“i should’ve made it,” he mumbles, his voice thick with frustration. “i had the pace. i know i did.”

you keep stroking his hair, your other hand rubbing gentle circles on his back. “you’ll get them next time. this isn’t the end.”

he pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes glassy with emotion. “i just—” his voice cracks, and he shakes his head, trying to get the words out. “i wanted it so bad. i was right there.”

“i know,” you say softly, cupping his face in your hands. “i know, love. but this doesn’t change how incredible you are.”

for a moment, he just looks at you, the frustration still simmering beneath the surface but dulled by the warmth of your presence. you lean in and press a gentle kiss to his forehead, and he sighs again, his shoulders finally slumping in defeat—though not the kind of defeat that lingers, but the kind that comes with acceptance, with knowing he did all he could.

but before he can fully disappear into the comfort of your embrace, someone from the team approaches, clearing their throat. you both turn to see one of the pr managers, looking slightly awkward but aware of the time crunch. “ollie,” they say softly, not wanting to intrude too much. “we’ve got to get you to the media pen. they’re waiting.”

ollie groans quietly against your shoulder, his grip on you loosening as reality pulls him back. “right,” he mutters, clearly not thrilled about it.

he pulls back reluctantly, his hands still lingering on your waist for a second longer before he lets go completely. “i’ll be back soon,” he says, the words more for himself than for you, like a promise he’s making to get through this next part.

you offer him an encouraging smile, giving his hand a squeeze. “you’ve got this.”

he nods, though you can see he’s still carrying some of that disappointment with him. just before he walks away, he pauses, turning back to you. “thank you,” he whispers, his voice quiet but sincere. “i don’t know what i’d do without you.”

“you don’t have to,” you reply, smiling softly as you reach up to caress his cheek adoringly. “i’ll always be here.”

with that, he smiles softly and leans down to give you a hurried kiss before finally allowing the team to steer him away, glancing back at you one last time before disappearing into the paddock. you watch him go, knowing that once he’s done with the media, you’ll be there waiting, ready to pull him back into your arms when he needs it most.

[boowritess]

part 1 hehe

notsobaddasssoldier!reader that is so incredibly under prepared for everything. and the 141 really do forget that you're actually still very green - very new to this life.

especially with things like interrogation.

for once, price is putting you on the sideline BUT you have to interogate the person they have captive for valuable information.

they'll give you whatever things you need in order to pry out any sort of information from the captive. they don't even second guess you asking for a guitar. they get one then they continue on with the mission while you interrogate the person.

their expectation may have been very high. they were betting on all the little fun bloody pain you could potentially do to the captive. seriously,

"knife, they're a knife person" *ghost*

"definitely not. fire. they're definitely using a blowtorch on em as we speak." *soap*

"sod of the both of ya - waterboarding. for sure." *gaz*

"choking." *price shrugs*

obviously, they were excited to come back and see who was right...

it really humbled them to see they were all wrong.

"please make them stop. i'll tell you whatever you want"

*captive yelling that can be barely heard over reader.*

"AHHHHHHHHHH *strum strum* AHHHHHH AHHHHHHH *strum strum* AHHHHHH-"

*reader who is loudly strumming the guitar out of tune, screaming in the captives' face over and over again.*

the guys don't know if they should be impressed or concerned. they were gone for nearly 5 hours.

5 hours you had been screaming in the captives' face 'playing' the guitar.

later on you get a lesson from ghost about what interrogations are supposed to be like - it ends with you vomiting and price patting your back and gaz holding a bucket to your mouth.

"what did you think was gonna happen when ghost showed ye what to do?" *soap*

"i don't know... go boo?" *scarred reader*

yeah... you're not allowed to do interrogations anymore or be involved in interrogations- you are also most definitely not allowed to talk to captives or guard them because -

"why're you doing this?" *captive*

"honest to god, i ain't got much goin' for me and i had hella stu-"

*reader's mouth suddenly gets covered, gaz looking at you like an idiot*

"hm? what is your little task force plan, huh? go on and blow the place?" *captive*

"well actually no. they plan too-" *your mouth gets covered just in time and you're getting dragged out the room by a very frustrated price*

you very much get ANOTHER lesson about what NOT TO DO when in the same room as a captive - it's pointless though because you're still not ever allowed in the same room alone with a captive.

HAHAHA

i can't stop thinking of reader who is watching a captive be interrogated for information by getting choked and reader just piping up like

"i don't think they can breathe..."

*ghost, long exhale, continues choking captive*

"that's the point, kid" *price*

"oh..."

*they continue choking the captive, waiting for them to crack-*

"if they can't breathe how are they going to talk-?"

"out." *ghost snaps pointing at the door.*

maybe they do give you a second shot at attempting to interrogate the captive. the 'correct' way this time, though. giving you ALL the necessary tools...

and you are ready, you're pumped. you can do it. you're not going to vomit - you're going to do it right.

you grab the pliers and walk towards the captive who is obviously panicked, very much expecting you to do your worse. which you are.

you grab their mouth and force their mouth open, ready to pull their teeth out - sucking a deep breath in as the captive starts to cry and beg.

but then you start to cry and beg.

"please just tell me the information i don't wanna do this"

"you don't have too!" *captive, crying and begging too*

"i do! i'm sorry..."

"no." *captive*

"yes."

"no" *captive starts screaming, making you start screaming as you pull on their tooth both of you staring at eachother and screaming your heads off.*

"I'M SORRY!"

"STOP!" *captive*

"I CAN'T!" *pulls tooth with pliers* "EW EW EW EW-"

you don't even do it right. you're pulling at their tooth with pliers and you're not strong enough so you're awkwardly just tugging the captives head. but the both of you are too busy screaming and begging to notice...

but you actually manage to successfully get the information - you're still not allowed to do interrogations... only being the very last option.

it does mean that you have to go on missions... even if you're useless omg idea?

*gasp* someone claims reader is a traitor - oop?

more parts, perhaps?

a/n: wrote this while trying to work through an anxiety/panic attack !! xx honestly tho these would be my genuine reaction. btw drink water and try sleep cause i can't xx

[aliteralsemicolon]

I'll wait for your love - 18+

See part 1 | See Part 2 | Part 3 of We can't be friends (wait for your love)

The only thing you’re sure of is that you don’t want things to go back to the way they were and Spencer agrees that change may be for the best.

Spencer Reid X Fem! Reader

DISCLAIMER This story is NSFW and contains graphic depictions + detailed descriptions of adult content. It is intended for mature audiences only, minors do not interact!  You are responsible for the content you consume. Make sure to read all necessary warnings. Please remember this is a work of fiction; if you don’t like it, don’t read. 

WARNINGS: Panic attack mentioned, slight PTSD depictions, case details (barely) mentioned, alcohol mentioned like once. Smut (not the focus at all): making out, nipple play, clitoral stimulation, praise, use of pet names (angel, pretty girl, etc). Proceed at your own risk.

Word count: 10.4K See notes at end for authors note & spoilers.

Avoiding Spencer wasn’t overly difficult on the flight back to D.C. You weren’t entirely sure how to face him after he risked his life for you, so you just pretended to be asleep the whole time. You even took a separate jeep from the tarmac to avoid a car ride back with him, and almost made a clean getaway to your car in the parking lot when Hotch stopped you. 

“I’m sorry to hold you back, but I do need the Anchorage report on my desk before tomorrow morning. It can’t be put off any longer.”

He looked extremely apologetic and you understood. You’re grateful he gave you as much time as he has. That’s how you ended up stuck at work til the later hours of the evening. Besides the few workaholics, security guards and janitors roaming around the corridors, the only other person there with you is Spencer, oddly. Even Hotch has gone home. You’ve spent more time stalking the doctor work through the pile of case files on his desk than you have writing in the one on yours. Only when you're caught do you look away. 

“Everything okay?” The innocent curiosity in his big eyes further reddens the hot embarrassment in your cheeks.

“Fine.” You mutter, dipping your head back down to the open page.

You’re never going to get this damn file done if you can’t get him out of your head, and him being barely three feet away from you doesn’t help. It’s very difficult for you to get your words from pen to paper. Anchorage wasn’t haunting you like it did at first. It was a traumatic event, yes, but alone isn’t the cause of this…block. Obviously the reality that you’re leaving is starting to dawn on you. Somehow your mind has linked this case with your departure and finishing this report makes it more official than your actual resignation. 

Plus, as much as you definitely hate Spencer, you do did care for him. The shock of him almost getting himself killed in front of you is another thing occupying your mind. It’s barely been twenty four hours since then, it’s still fresh. You can see him stand and grab his satchel in your peripheral vision, he’s preparing to leave. There are a lot of memories attached to that brown leather bag. 

Things he would carry in there for you when you forgot your own bag. 

You don’t make it obvious that you’re watching him gather his things in small glances. 

He bought extra hair clips for you to keep in there because you would often forget those too. 

It’s over now. No point in dwelling on it. You shake your head once he’s out of sight, trying to force him out of your thoughts. Now that he’s gone you’re hoping to actually be able to get some work done.

He taught you chess with the mini chess set he keeps in there. You discovered that you actually quite liked chess and would ask to play with him all the time. It was also his ‘secret’ weapon to help you calm down. 

You roll your eyes to push back the tears from the memories that refuse to stop playing. This can wait until you get home, it’s not important. 

It wasn’t the chess set that helped you feel calm. Spencer could win chess against you in just a few moves, but he would deliberately stretch out the game so you could have room to breathe. The longer the game, the more time you had to spend focused on the moves and slow down your thoughts. You could open up at your own pace. He would let you feel in control.

It doesn’t matter if he’s near you or not, Spencer has a way of invading your headspace wherever he is. Your train of thoughts is interrupted with a light thud on your right. You covertly roll the tears away again and turn to examine the source of the noise. A mug of coffee placed on your desk by

“Spencer?” You sputter breathlessly. 

“Sorry. I know you told me to stop. This is the last time I promise.” 

You don’t fully comprehend what he’s going on about, not expecting him to be here at all. 

“I thought you left.”

“I did– was. I was leaving, but I thought I’d make you some coffee before I go. Since you’ve been here a while.” He awkwardly explains. 

You steadily direct your attention back to the mug, reeling in what was happening. 

“Before you get mad, this really is just a cup of coffee from a colleague who thought it might help keep you energised if you’re planning to stay late. There’s no ulterior motive…”

He continues rambling but you’re not mentally present to hear any of it. 

He made you coffee. 

Even though you’ve been nothing short of an absolute bitch. Granted he was a bitch first, but the point is that he’s still thinking of your well being regardless. You can’t hide your tears from him this time. It’s the soft buzz of your name that draws you back to him. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you! I’ll take the coffee–”

His panicked sentiment is cut short when you jump out of your seat and shove past him. The breakdown you’ve been avoiding hits you like a ton of bricks. You run into the nearest empty office and he runs after you, making it past the door before you can lock him out. 

“Spencer p–please get out! I’m fine.” You’re pacing in the same spot, fanning away the stream falling down your cheeks, hyperventilating.

He doesn’t respond to you, instead cautiously taking your hand in his. You’re in too frenzied a state to care. He guides you to sit on the couch against the wall and you blindly go along with it, still trying to get yourself together. 

You want to stop the tears, but you can’t do that until you get your breathing under control. He slowly wraps his arms around you and you slump into him, head buried in his chest. You should try to fight it, you should push him away, but you can’t. Right now, surrounded by his scent, held in his arms, you don’t want to move. It’s not something you can properly explain, but the feeling is so comforting that nothing else matters. All you know is that you’re safe and that’s enough for you to allow yourself to finally break down. 

The first few sobs are loud, like there’s not enough air in the world to stabilise your lungs. They fizzle out into silent whimpers and you grasp onto the fabric of his sweater, balling it in your fist, just letting yourself feel. Spencer still hasn’t said a word. His right hand is rubbing circles on your back and his left hand is gently scratching just above the nape of your neck. 

You stay like that for a while, even after you’ve stopped crying. It’s been so long since you’ve been in this little bubble with him and you don’t want it to end. You pull away when you feel the strap of his satchel across his stomach as your hand drops to his lap. He visually follows every move you make. 

“You’re still wearing your bag.” You sniffle, leaning back. 

“I am.” He whispers, understanding that you no longer want to be touched. 

He stays in his original position; facing you, but now with one arm resting on top of the backrest and the other idly in his lap. You’ve moved so that now you're facing ahead with your back leaning against the cushions, pulling your knees into your chest. You had never found comfort in silence until the first time you experienced it with Spencer. Staying huddled, you divert your eyes towards him. There’s a distinct wet patch on his shirt. It’s less visible on his sweater-vest, but it’s there. 

“Your shirt’s wet now.” It’s almost impossible to make out what you’re saying with your mouth muffled against your arm, but of course, Spencer manages anyway. 

“It’ll dry.” He smiles, tone delicate. 

“But– germs.” You choke a little due to your previous crying. 

“It can be washed.” He’s using his comforting voice again. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

The silence resumes. Neither of you dares to move, trying to freeze this moment. It’s obvious that you didn’t grasp how badly you craved each other’s presence. 

“D–do…” The initial sound grabs Spencer’s full attention again. You take a deep breath, hoping he wants to stay here as much as you do. “Do you still carry that little chess set with you?”

A small, airy chuckle comes out from him. 

“Would you like to play?”

“Please.” 

He creates some more space between you and begins to set up the board once he’s pulled it out of his satchel. You move to accommodate the set up, now facing him with your legs crossed on the couch and shoes abandoned on the floor. You wait for him to make the first move. After the opening moves the game doesn’t seem to get any harder and you know he’s throwing the game. You’re okay at chess, but he’s obviously a lot better. 

“You’re going easy on me.” You mumble.

“Because you’re not even trying.” He replies blithely.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Like I said, you’re making it too easy.” He gently teases.

“Not that. Helping me. You hate me, remember?” You say it like it’s the most casual thing in the world. 

“I don’t hate you.” 

“You literally told me that you hate me.” You chuckle, numb to the hurt that sentence once brought you. 

“So did you.” He counters in defence, trailing your hand as it carelessly moves your queen to her demise. 

“I was angry.” 

“So was I.” He spared your queen, in turn leaving his king vulnerable. 

“It doesn’t matter now…” You don’t finish the rest of your sentence but Spencer still hears it.

You’re leaving soon anyway.

“It matters to me.” If he left something unsaid you choose to ignore it. 

“You’re letting me win.” You whisper, feeling the urge to cry some more, but there’s no tears left. 

He doesn’t make a move, bringing the game to a halt. He’s waiting for you to meet his eyes. You know what he’s going to say. 

“Spencer, don't.” You beseech.

“Why?” If you looked at him instead of the board you’d see the way his eyes are pleading at you. 

“There’s no point.” This time it’s your voice that cracks. 

You're looking everywhere else and it makes you too aware of your surroundings. Like how the couch is lined up directly under a window that anyone could peek into. 

“Leaving is not the only option.” He solicits. 

He regards your discomfort and closes the blinds from where he’s sitting, pulling you back into the privacy of your bubble. 

“There’s nothing that you can say to make things go back to how they were.” You bite the inside of your cheek, fiddling with a random pawn. 

It’s not a proper two way conversation. You’re talking to yourself just as much as Spencer’s talking to you. You’re both trying to convince you of what you’re saying. 

“Things don’t have to go back to how they were.” The squeaks in his soothing tone are starting to melt any resolve you have left. 

“There’s no reason for me to stay.” You oppose, trying to make any argument stick.

“I can think of more reasons for you to stay than for you to go.” 

There’s an underlying tension bubbling. Neither of you notice it over your desperate tug of war. 

“I don’t think there’s anything that you can say to get me to stay.” Another baseless sentence meant more for you than for him. 

“Give me one chance. One chance to convince you.” He can see your internal struggle at his request and he throws out one final plea to sway you. “For nothing more than closure.” 

Closure.

You’ve spent months in turmoil over the hows and the what ifs, trying to conjure answers to questions that wouldn’t stop pestering you. You couldn’t turn him down even if you wanted to. 

“Closure?” You repeat, eyes finally latching onto his.

“Closure.” He whispers back in reassurance. 

“Even if you can’t convince me?” You caution, not wanting to give him false hope.

He doesn’t say anything, thinking over the scenario in his head. He simply nods and you mimic the action, blinking away the blur in your vision and dragging around chess pieces. It takes Spencer a second to figure out that you were moving them back to their default places.

“Okay new game.” You announce. 

Spencer blinks in confusion, waiting for you to elaborate. 

“I can ask you any question I want and you have to answer honestly. If by the end of the game I’m not convinced to stay, you back off for the remainder of my time here.” You pause for him to interject, but he doesn’t. “That means we stay away from each other, only talking when needed for work. Even then as cordially and professionally as possible. No more trying to make casual conversation or bringing me coffee or anything like that.”

“Till the end of the game?” He studies you. 

“Yup.” You smack your lips together. “Til one of us checkmates the other.”

“This means you’ll actually give me a fair shot?” 

“Between the two of us, I’m not the one known for cheating at games.” You jab, trying to ease the tension you could definitely feel now. 

“I meant a fair shot at convincing you. As in you’ll seriously take what I have to say into account.” He discards your attempt.

“No, I know. The opportunity was just too good to pass up.”

He can tell you’re trying to hold back a laugh from the small smile on your lips. It’s as adorable to him now as it was the first time he saw it. 

“Any rules before we start?” He asks, unable to hide his own smile.

“Only that we have to be honest.” You answer, immediately dropping your smile.

“Okay.” He agrees, smiling slightly wider.

“Okay.” You nod again.

When he finally makes the first move it hits you that you don’t actually know where to start. Theoretically, you know what you want to ask, but don’t know how to ask. You don’t know if you should jump straight into the questions or start with some ice breakers. Nothing is said for about four to five moves when Spencer pauses the game. 

“Are you going to ask any questions or have you decided that you just want to play one last game for your closure?”

“Huh?” You snap your vision away from the board. “Oh, sorry. I was thinking.”

“Do you want to return to the game after thinking of a few questions to ask?” He raises his brow and relaxes his jaw.

“No, no, we don’t need to do that. Let’s keep playing, the questions will come to me.” You brush off his suggestion and motion for him to continue with his turn. He doesn’t.

“What?” Your voice raises and you scrunch your nose from perplexity.

“Sorry, it’s just that you’ve put us on a time limit and this is how you’re using our time?” He airs, failing to conceal his amusement.

“Well excuse me if I don’t exactly have a list of questions ready to go for you.” You narrow your eyes in annoyance. 

“Why would you suggest this if you don’t have any questions?” He tries to hold back his laugh and ends up snorting as a result. 

“I have questions!” You jabber, unable to maintain your annoyance. “I don’t know what– where do I even start?”

“Start with whichever one comes to you first.” He shrugs, finally making his move. 

A lot of things come to mind when you think about it. The thing that screams the loudest twitches a nerve and you become instantly irate. 

“Okay.” You nod, tone harsh and flat. “Let’s start with whatever the fuck possessed you on the last case. What was your thought process when you put your life in danger like that?”

He almost gets whiplash from the change in mood, his face literally reads ‘are you serious?’. 

“He was going to shoot you.” He states like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

“I was wearing a vest, I would’ve been fine.” You contend. 

“I wasn’t willing to take that risk.” 

“Risk?! You literally put yourself in danger for no reason!” 

“I think it was a pretty good reason actually!” 

“Spencer that was–” You stop yourself with a grumble, inhaling deeply. 

“It was instinctual, okay?” He softly explains. “I saw him aim the gun at you and I just reacted.” 

“Well it was a stupid reaction!” You whine. 

“I’m not going to apologise for it.”

The glare you give is piercing, you bite the inside of your cheek to hold your tongue before you say something you can’t take back. Spencer throws his head back and sighs. 

“But I will promise not to do it again.” He adds, not fully intending to keep it. 

This was slowly turning into another argument, both of you shooting back too fast with your responses. You aren’t in the mood for another argument. So you redirect your attention to the game. 

“Check.” You mumble, buying yourself time to think of another question. “Why are you here so late anyway?”

“I wanted to finish some work before tomorrow morning.” He replies, moving his king to safety. 

“Yeah, what’s up with that? You could’ve done those tomorrow as well.” Your voice softens out of curiosity. 

“I wanted to get them finished in case there were more tomorrow.” It’s not his best excuse. You don’t know what he means by that. He doesn’t know what he means by that. He’s lying to you. 

You scoff, poking your tongue against your cheek. “Wow. You really can’t not cheat during a game, can you?” 

“Right, sorry.” Spencer clears his throat after the initial confusion clears. Complete honesty, it was your only rule. “I wanted to be here.”

“For…” You egg on, purposely rolling your ‘r’s to prompt him. 

“I wanted to make sure that you were okay.” He admits, looking away from you. 

“Why?” You’re genuinely puzzled at the admission. “You’re the one who almost died. I mean, it was stupid and your fault, but still. If anything I should be checking up on you.”

“Check.” That’s the only response he gives you. He hopes that you don’t push further, but he knows that you will. 

His lack of response only forces you to think about the possible reasons by yourself, using context clues to figure it out. You are a profiler, after all. 

“Is this because of the panic attack?” You note how his jaw twitches when he swallows at the mention. “It is! You seriously chose to spend your night stuck at the office because of that?” 

“What else was I supposed to do? It’s not like you would talk to me, you literally refused to even look at me!” He gripes. 

“Spencer I think anyone would panic if they got tackled to the ground by a six foot man without warning. I’m fine.” You giggle.

“What happened to complete honesty?” It’s his turn to glare at you.

“I am being honest!” You protest.

“Lying by omission is not being honest.” He rolls his eyes.

“Okay Mr. know-it-all, what am I lying about?” You challenge.

“Seriously? You don’t remember?” His approach is doubtful and he just stares at your dazed expression.

“Fucking spit it out already, Spence!” 

Any sarcasm he had geared up for a response dissipates at your use of his nickname. He’s heard it plenty in the last few months, but not from you. For a moment things feel like they never changed. It stings in a bittersweet kind of way. 

“You sc–screamed– uh–” He clears his throat and rapidly blinks, his nose twitches in the process. “During that panic attack, you repeatedly asked me to stay with you. Y–you, uh– you said you didn’t think you could li–”

“Stop. Stop. Stop talking.” Your voice quavers and you hold your hand up, ears burning up. “I don’t wanna know.”

You don’t know why it makes your heart race the way it does, you don’t even remember it. He waits a while before speaking up again, wanting to be careful about how he goes about the topic without you shutting down.

“May I ask you a question?” He voices professionally, trying to make the conversation less personal so you don’t feel cornered. 

You nod, moving your king out of check.

“Is there anybody you will talk to about Anchorage? Without pushing them away?” He keeps the game going as he speaks to provide you with a distraction. 

“Woah– Anchorage? Where is that coming from?” You titter.

“I want you to remember that we promised to be honest and I won’t push if you ask me to stop, but I know for a fact that you aren’t okay.” He waits for you to stop him but you don’t, even though you know roughly what he’s going to say. “Panic attacks aside, your avoidant behaviour around the topic, inability to focus, being easily startled, you’re showing signs of PTSD.” 

“Spence, c’mon. I don’t need to talk to anyone. I already passed the psych evals.” You attempt to make light of the situation with carefully chosen words so you’re not lying. It was a futile attempt, you know he’s not willing to budge when he doesn’t give you anything more than a blank stare. 

“Why does this matter so much to you?” You sigh in defeat. “Whatever happened…that’s a part of the job, you know that.”

“I also know, first hand, that it takes over your life. You can’t run from it, no matter how much you try to.” His tone is soft as he speaks, yet you feel like he’s accusing you. 

“I am not running! Why would you say I’m running?” You object with a high voice, shrugging your shoulders. “And it’s not taking over my life. Also, check.”

“Because that’s what you do when you don’t want to deal with something.” He states point blank.

“Woah– so– that was entirely unnecessary.” You stammer, unable to deny it. 

“I’m not criticising you. I just happen to know you and I know that you have a tendency to run from your problems. And it is taking over your life.” 

“You’re profiling!” You gasp.

“You know that it’s not something we can just turn off! No matter how much we pretend like we can.” He waves his hands defensively. 

You can’t argue with that, your lips twisting to the side. 

“You want me to be honest?” You murmur sheepishly. 

“Always. Please.” He responds gently, wanting you to be as comfortable as possible.

“I don’t want to talk about it. I spend a good chunk of my day actively avoiding thinking about it, but somehow I always end up thinking about it anyway. At times it’s like I can almost feel…” You breathe in instinctively. “This is the first time in months I’ve been able to do anything without it lingering in the back of my mind. Can we please talk about it another time? I would rather talk about other things…”

Another time. 

“...right now.” 

You’ve implied that there will be another time to talk and he definitely caught it, even if he pretends that he hasn’t. You don’t even know if what you said is true, you got too comfortable with the familiarity of his friendship. It was something you said out of habit from back when you two actually were friends. Not even a full hour's worth of conversation with him and he’s already worming his way back in.

“Um–” You drag yourself further back on the couch, creating more physical distance. 

“That’s okay. We don’t have to talk about it at all.” Spencer senses your urgency to leave the situation and jumps into damage control. “It’s your turn.”

“No, um, I should– I should go. Thanks for doing thi– helping me.” You turn away from him, aiming for your shoes and ready to bolt.

“The game’s not over.” He points out.

“Yes it is.” You declare, still in the process of putting on your shoes.

“You said til checkmate.” He huffs, shifting out of his seated position. 

“I forfeit!” You throw your arms out in a shrugging manner, standing up after him.

“I can’t believe this. You’re going back on your word!” He doesn’t even raise his voice. He’s just hurt. 

“What’s the point, Spencer? Closure doesn’t mean anything, I’m still leaving! You can’t magically change my mind!” You yell, getting louder with each sentence. 

“I disagree. I think that you’re running again!” He blocks your way and yells back, maintaining his volume throughout. 

“Maybe you should think less!” You suggest, still yelling. Sarcasm is your defence mechanism when you have no actual defence. 

“You know what else I think?” He continues, emphasising the word ‘think’ every time he says it out of spite. “I think that you agreed to this thinking I won’t be able to convince you, but I am!”

“I don’t care what you–”

“I think you don’t want to finish the game that you started, because you’re afraid to ask the harder questions!”

“Stop.” You command, but it doesn’t deter him.

“I think that you’re scared to hear my answers because then it all becomes too real for you–” 

“Stop!” The words almost get stuck in your throat, but you choke them out. “You’re wrong.” 

“If I’m wrong then prove it. To both of us.” He sits back down and motions to the board. “Ask the real questions.” 

“I don’t need to prove anything, you’re wrong.” You uphold.

“So leave.” He challenges, knowing that you won’t be able to. 

If you truly believed that he��s wrong you wouldn’t feel the need to prove it, but you do and he knows that. You walk back over to the couch, head nodding from irritation, tongue poking your cheek. You kick your shoes off with a bit of force and return to your earlier position across from him. 

“Your move.” He reminds you as you settle in.

You don’t reply yet, but move your rook to set him up for the next move.  

“Check.” He smugly states.

“Who was she?” 

You don’t move, examining him close for any change in his behaviour. He obviously didn't anticipate that question first, snapping his sights back on you. 

“Sorry?” 

“The woman who greeted me at your door. That night at your apartment.” 

“Charlotte.” He replies, holding your gaze to show you he’s got nothing to hide. “We met at the library a week before.”

“Are you guys together?” You break away first, diverting your eyes to the chess board and trying to seem unfazed when moving your knight. 

“No, God, no.” He denies immediately. 

“I don’t know, she seemed pretty cosy for someone you met a week prior.” You don’t mean to sound as snide as you come across.

“No, it wasn’t like that at all.” He shakes his head. 

“You sure? Because I’m pretty sure I saw her mark you up with a kiss on your cheek before disappearing.” You don’t look at him, examining a captured pawn as you wait for him to make his move. 

“Mark me up?” He cognizes it instantly. “Are you…jealous?”

“What? No!” You vehemently deny, your voice rising in several pitches. 

“You are!” His eyes widen. 

“I am not jealous.” 

His jaw slacks and he lets out an amused scoff. He doesn’t say anything, making you feel the need to fill the silence. 

“I only bring it up because…I know you have a thing with…germs.” Your words falter because of your own uncertainty and you want to dissolve into the fucking floor. 

Spencer tries to suppress a smile by poking his tongue out slightly. If the atmosphere was lighter he’d tease you about it, but he doesn’t want to make you take off again. Still, he feels the need to clarify the events of the night. 

“I don’t know why she kissed my cheek, it was completely random.” He takes his time saying it, still fighting a smile.

You swallow nervously and purse your lips to the side in response. One question answered and you only have new ones in its place. Did she stay the night? Did she sleep on the couch or on his bed? Did he see her again? 

“I drove her home right after you left.” He can almost hear your thoughts. 

“Was it a date?” You softly gulp again, unsure if you even have a right to know.

“Yes.” He hesitates. 

“Oh.” 

“I wanted to try out casual dating for once.” He chagrins. “I honestly don’t know how you did it, it’s not even fun.” 

“No it’s not.” You chuckle dryly. “So no second date, I presume?”

“Definitely not. I was just stressed the whole time.” He chuckles with you. 

“Take a shot of tequila before you go next time, it helps settle the nerves.” You joke, jumping to give him advice you hope he doesn’t take. You can’t help it, it’s what you’ve always done. Even if it goes against what you desire. 

“While moderate consumption of tequila can help relax the nervous system, I will not be turning to alcohol for stress relief.” 

“Then blast classical music while you get ready and give yourself a pep talk out loud, it’s actually really efficient–”

“There won’t be a next time. For a really long time, if ever.” He interjects, miffed at your insistence. 

“You willingly plan on committing to lifelong celibacy?” You exclaim with a puzzled look. “Why?!”

Spencer laughs at how raw your reaction is. He didn’t plan on giving out any more details but, with that prompt he decides that it’s now or never. 

“I don’t think any future dates will appreciate me picturing someone else in their place the whole time.” 

Oh. 

Both of you lock eyes at the same time. This is not a road you’re prepared to go back down, even if that’s literally the whole point of this conversation. You’re too stunned to reply and Spencer uses this as an opportunity to be elaborate. He doesn’t want any misunderstandings this time. 

“I couldn’t stop pictur–”

“Shut up.” You blurt out the sentence in almost one word. 

Your heart’s racing like you’re standing on the edge of a cliff. You’re flustered, every part of your body is heated from how terrified you are.

“Y–you don’t have t–t…you don’t owe m–me an explanation.” You try to elaborate, contradicting yourself and stumbling on your words.

“I want to.” He reads that you’re apprehensive but pushes regardless. 

“Please don’t.” The tears that you thought had dried out were building again.

“Why ask if you won’t let me answer?”

You don’t have anything to say to that. Did you want answers? Yes. Still, you didn’t expect how hard they’d be to hear. He whispers your name and you scramble to think of your next move, and not in chess. You’re unable to even think about the game right now. You want to bolt, but you can’t even get yourself to move. So you deflect. 

“Because it doesn’t matter.”

“I disagree.” Although his tone is subdued, the pace of his wording is faster. “I think it does matter and that’s why you’re afraid to hear it.”

He’s right but you can’t bring yourself to agree. This is only going to over-complicate an already complicated situation.

“It’s not enough.” Your voice cracks.

“How can it be if you won’t even give it a fair shot?” 

“Fair?” 

It comes out louder than you intended. His words trigger resentment within you and you snap. 

“Nothing about any of this is fair! I mean, fucking hell, Spencer, four years. That’s how long we’ve been friends. I mean I’ve shared shit that I thought I would be taking to the fucking grave with you! You were my best friend for four fucking years and all it took was like, five seconds?”

You sob, softer than when you were first crying, but the frustration is clear. He reaches out to touch your hand, but you push his hand away. 

“No!” You choke, sobbing harder when you try to compile your thoughts. “Five seconds to destroy all of it! It makes me wonder if everything we shared, our friendship, was it ever even that strong?”

Your anger simmers to sadness, as evident with how your yelling fades into whispering in the last sentence. 

“I can’t even tell you when exactly those five seconds were. I mean, I know…but…I don’t. Where did it go wrong, Spence?” 

“I don’t know.” Is all he can say after a beat of silence.

He knows exactly where it went wrong. 

“Yeah, me neither!” You sniffle, immediately wiping a single tear that manages to escape. “So again, it doesn’t matter.” 

“When you took it back.”

“What?” 

“That’s where everything changed for me. You showed up at my apartment drunk, after your date with Nathan. Your exact words were ‘I mean as an amazing friend’.” His voice strains like he’s forcing himself to speak. 

Your gaze falls, eyes darting everywhere as you try to jog your memory beyond the one sentence you remember. 

“I don’t understand.” You croak.

“You know, if I wasn’t who I am, maybe you could love me the way I love you.” He chuckles bitterly, fighting back tears of his own. “That was– that was, uh, what you said before you took it back.”

“Spence, please…” You whine without sound, tilting your head back and chewing on your lip as a final attempt to stay composed. 

“No, you wanted to know where it went wrong.” He laughs falsely to downplay his tears. “You can say it doesn’t matter all you want, but the fact is, it does matter. It matters to me and I won’t let you run from it anymore.” 

You can’t look at him. Not with tears free falling down your face. You cup your hands together in your lap, pressing your fingers and nails together. 

“You told me that I couldn’t love you.” You struggle to sound your words. 

“I’m an idiot.” Another chuckle, but he sounds defeated. “When you said that, all I could think about was how badly I wanted to say that I do love you.” 

You tearfully laugh at this admission. 

“I only took it back because of what you said. I panicked. I thought I’d ruined things…which I guess, I still did.” Another laugh from you.

Spencer responds with the same regretful sound. 

The irony spurs another fit of giggles amongst you, this one slightly longer and infinitely more rueful than the last. You look anywhere but at each other until it grows quieter. 

“If you loved me, why the fuck would you tell me that I couldn’t love you?” You sound just as, if not more, defeated than him. 

“Love.” Spencer corrects without missing a beat. 

Your brows twitch up and your heart jumps. 

“I was so hung up on every single part of your sentence that I didn’t know what to say first.” He proceeds to answer you without leaving much room to process what he said. “I wanted to tell you that I do love you. I love you as you are. Not as somebody else.”

“But you didn’t say any of that.” You ignore all his admissions, not fully comprehending. 

“Like I said, I’m an idiot. I was in so much disbelief and that was the first thing that came out of my mouth.” He sullenly huffs.

You don’t reply, sniffling with your head down. 

“For like a second, I had everything I wanted. Then you took it back and it was like my whole world had been ripped out from under me. In those five seconds, you’d given me a taste of what I’d spent four years convincing myself I couldn’t have and I just– I couldn’t go back after that.” He adds after a stillness. 

After a short while, your focus shifts from your hands to the board in front of you. The game’s been long forgotten. You’re immersed in the conversation, in spite of how strenuous it is. 

“I understand why you were distant, even mean, at first.” You snivel. “But after a while you just became downright cruel.” 

Spencer doesn’t shy away from your gaze when you do look at him. His skin is as drenched from crying as yours is. 

“I mean ‘I don’t want to see your face’? I know that I don’t really have a leg to stand on anymore, but, what the fuck Spencer?” 

He doesn’t cringe any less with every reminder. He’s truly regretted the words since they left his mouth. 

“I wanted to hurt you.” He reveals. “I thought you were being deliberately cruel and I wanted you to feel exactly how I was feeling.”

“Deliberately?” 

He nods, hanging his head.

“I thought that you knew how I felt and were just trying to be funny or something.” 

“Well I didn’t. I wasn’t.” You cut him off with a constricted voice.

“Even if you did, it’s not an excuse.” His eyes are glistening from the outpour of tears, but he still lifts his sights back to you. “I’m sorry.” 

You don’t know how to acknowledge his apology at all. You’re not even angry anymore, all you feel is sorrow and regret for the way everything happened. An entire friendship down the drain due to an unfortunate set of circumstances. 

“This is so fucked up.” You say with another mordant laugh. “All of this could have been avoided if we just talked about it.”

It stung less when you had somebody to blame for it. Your vision blurs and you make no effort to clear it, letting yourself cry openly. 

“We’re talking about it now?” It’s almost a squeak, the way it’s spoken.

“Yeah, but,” your shoulders slump, defeatedly, and you have to pause to control your sob, “what good does it do now? I’ve already lost the best thing that’s ever happened to me in the most pathetic way possible.”

“I’m right here.” He counters in such a small voice that it gives your goosebumps. 

“Spencer, too many things have been said…”

“When you first joined the team, I instantly knew I liked you.” 

He chews on his lip and darts his eyes around while he contemplates if he wants to continue. 

“I thought it was because of your kind nature. You were so sweet to everybody.” He decides he does, but his voice shakes throughout. “You have this gift…you make people feel so good about themselves. Whenever you spoke to me, I felt like the most important person in the world. It was impossible not to like you.”

You want to pretend like you don’t know where he’s going with this. You want to stop him, but your voice is stuck in your throat.

“It wasn’t until you bought me coffee for the first time that I realised just how much I liked you.” He chuckles again, as he reminisces in the memory. “You didn’t even get my order right until the fourth time, but it was still my favourite cup of the day.”

“You make me sound like a saint.” You finally choke out, attempting to play down the confession so it doesn’t crush your heart. “The only reason I even started bringing you coffee is because you learned how I like my coffee first.” 

“Not a saint, an angel. I’ve fallen so deeply in love with you that there are times where it genuinely feels like I’m in the presence of an angel.” 

It’s stated with such sincerity that it knocks the wind out of your pipes. Your eyes are widened and you’re biting your tongue with your mouth closed, staring at him with your chin tucked. He seems so confident, even with the glistening from previous tears in his eyes.

“I wanted to be in your life in any way you would have me. Even when it meant that I had to accept you with other people. And it was bearable, until…” His reminiscence only ends at the memory of the night that changed everything. “Like I said, I couldn’t go back.”

The last part fades into another whisper, only then do you find the courage to speak up. 

“Exactly.” You stick to your denial. “It can’t go back to how it was before.”

Your heart is so sure of what it wants, but your head is blinded by fear. You’re at a crossroads, except one path, the path that leads to everything you long for, is clouded with a fog of uncertainty. The other path is so painfully clear, you can practically see what’s on the other side. A fresh start, where the risk of fucking up further doesn’t exist. What you don’t see is Spencer.

“Good. I don’t want it to go back to how it was.” 

Spencer’s waiting for you to enter the fog. He’s going to be there holding your hand every step of the way. 

“I’ve already handed in my resignation.”

“That matters less than everything you’ve claimed doesn’t matter.” He leans in, intensifying his eye contact. 

“I’m pretty sure Hotch is really close to confirming my replacement.” You comment half-heartedly. 

You’re trying anything to dissuade both him and yourself from acknowledging the obvious, but he doesn’t plan on letting you avoid it. 

“I love you.” He whispers softly.

“Spencer…” You begin when he takes hold of your hands and whatever you had to say disappears from your tongue. 

“I love you. With every atom that makes up my body.” He repeats himself with further elaboration to instil it in your mind.

“I’m scared.” You whisper back with a sob, finally accepting it. 

“Why?” His voice can’t be any softer, but it still cracks a little.

“Because, you can’t guarantee that it’s going to end well.” You allow your vulnerability to peek through. “And that’s going to hurt more. I’d rather leave now than fall deeper.”

Although you didn’t say it back, it’s an indirect admission that you love him too. And it’s enough for him to fight harder.

“I know that my credibility isn’t the greatest,” he coaxes a small, sad scoff out of you, “but I truly believe that this, us, we’ll work. Because I know that I’m going to do everything I can to make this work.”

He feels bolder when you don’t pull away from his touch, folding your fingers into your palms and cupping over them. You observe the sight as it unfolds in lieu of a verbal response. 

“I’ve spent four years judging any man that comes into your life, wishing I was in their place, swearing I would treat you better than all of them.” 

Spencer feels the need to fill in the silence and he lets honesty guide his confession. He leans in further as if he’s indulging his deepest secret. 

“Four years wasted wondering what could be, cursing out those idiots, but taking no action to make it happen. And that makes me the biggest idiot out of all of them.”

When he speaks like this, with his big, imploring eyes and prayerful tone, it melts your heart to a point where it almost hurts. The more he talks, the more you begin to lean in, opening yourself up to him.

“It took losing you to realise how badly I fucked up and for that I will never forgive myself. I know that I have no right to ask you to waste any more time on me…”

There’s no more resistance against the pull you both physically feel to each other. 

“...but I’m begging you for a chance to do today what I should have done way before yesterday.” 

Your faces grow closer by the second, you can feel each other's breaths against skin.

“And I’m going to spend every tomorrow proving what I said today.” 

The likelihood of him changing your mind with one conversation wasn’t very high, both you and Spencer knew this when you got into it. You’re not entirely surprised when he somehow manages to overcome those odds too. You take the step to close the gap and lightly press your lips to his. 

It starts off soft, there’s no lust, no ulterior motive behind it. It’s a simple confirmation that you’re both present and this is real. Spencer doesn’t shy away from the kiss, not that you’d call this a kiss. It feels more intimate, more unguarded.

Spencer pulls you onto his lap as he shifts and leans back against the backrest to allow more room for you. You wrap your arms around him and the kiss deepens. In the midst of you straddling him, he slides the entire chess board off the couch and the pieces scatter on the floor. It’s only when you feel that the kiss can’t bring you any closer to him does the lust emerge. It fuels a desire to prove that you both whole-heartedly belong to each other. 

There’s no pinpointing when the switch happens. All you know is that the feeling of his lips against yours is no longer enough. You cup his jaw in your hands, swiping your tongue on his lower lip and it causes his grip on your waist to tighten. He parts his lips for you and it starts what you can only call a dance with your tongues. 

Your breathing grows hotter, your hips subconsciously grind against him. There’s a prominent bulge that brushes against your heat and you whine into his mouth. Spencer grunts your name in response and then abruptly pulls away.

“Wait, wait, wait, slow down.” He breathlessly whispers against your lips. 

“What?” You whisper back with concern. “What’s wrong?”

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He gazes into your eyes, afraid that you might regret this later.

“I’ve never been more sure, actually.” You’re confident at first but the look in his eyes makes you pull back further. “Unless…you’re not sure?”

“No, don’t misunderstand me. I want you.” His tone rises just above the previous whisper with his clarification. “It’s just that the last thing I want to do is take advantage of you when our emotions are running high.”

“Four years, Spencer.” You lean in again, just brushing your lips against his. “The only reason you should be making me wait is if you’re not sure.”

He shuts that idea down by crashing his lips on yours. The kiss is so hungry, so desperate, it’s everything both of you have longed for and denied yourselves everytime you’ve been in each other's presence. It doesn’t take long for hands to start to roam. He traces the curve from your waist to your hips, stopping just at the hem of your shirt, tugging it like he’s asking for permission. 

You rush to undo your buttons and he meets you halfway, starting at the bottom. His fingers brush against yours as you two reach the final button and you pull the fabric off yourself. You do the same with his shirt, lips remaining locked, except for the small gasps of air you take in between. It requires a bit more manoeuvring with him, but you’re both soon shirtless. 

His mouth travels to your jaw and you shut your eyes from pleasure as he continues down to your neck. The stubble on his chin tickles your skin. You cup it, gently pushing him away with a giggle. 

“Forget to pack a razor in your bag, Dr. Reid?” Your voice is teasing, more playful than seductive.

He chuckles, airily, hiding his groan. He knows you’re being sarcastic, but the use of his title, with your voice in this context, catches him off guard. You moan as you feel his growing bulge against your heat when his arms tighten around your waist, pulling you into his kiss. You swiftly undo the clasp of your bra, but before you can take it off, Spencer grabs you from just below the hips and lifts you up off him, gently laying you down on the seat of the couch. 

There’s no room for hesitation as his lips find your neck again and he nips at the skin. Every suckle earns him short gasps and the grip in his hair tightens as he travels lower. He stops just above your breast, pulling himself up to sit on his knees. You stare up at him with a heated gaze, the nail of your thumb resting between your teeth with your lips parted to make up for the loss of his lips. 

He reaches for your bra strap and begins pulling slowly, searching your eyes for any signs of you withdrawing consent. All he sees is how beautifully they sparkle when you give him a light nod. It’s been too long since he’s seen the stars that you hold in your eyes, stars he accustomed himself to before he even got to properly know you. 

Gazing into his eyes, you’ve never felt more sure, more safe. You trust him implicitly and you’ve never wanted anything more. His constant need to make sure you're comfortable sends shivers down to your core. He slides the garment off you and Spencer’s beyond grateful that he’s already on his knees, knowing that if he was standing he’d fall to them because of the sight below him. 

His eyes don’t falter once, he’s trying to permanently etch this moment into his brain. He hovers his fingers above your body, thumb brushing against your hardened nipple and you softly whine. He looks awestruck, almost like he doesn’t believe what’s happening. You can’t help but wonder if he thinks your boobs look weird. 

“Beautiful.” The words fall out of his mouth in a whisper, as if on cue. He’s really just thinking out loud.

Before you can respond he lowers down and plants a small peck to your sensitive nub before taking it into his mouth. You gasp again, head lolling back in pleasure. One of your hands goes for his hair, while the other clings to his hand that’s already holding yours. He switches between sucking, pulling and squeezing; rolling it between his tongue and uses his teeth to squeeze ever so slightly.

“S–spencer.” A strangled moan falls from your lips. 

You tug his hair, whining and moaning as your hips roll against the strain in his pants. When your motions become continuous, he lets out his own strained groan and is forced to release your nipple with a small ‘pop’. 

“Angel, I really need you to stop doing that.” He murmurs in your ear with a gentle, gravelly tone.

As soon as the nickname reaches your ears your hips involuntarily buck up again, making his hips automatically push down against yours. His cock presses against your core and you both moan, his head falling against your shoulder.

“Spence, more.” You quietly whine in against his ear. “I need more.” 

“More?” He echoes back, turning his head so that your lips brush past each other when speaking. 

“Mhm.” You nod weakly as he brushes a strand of hair out of your face and weakly connects his lips with yours.

Even when he’s got you vulnerable and at your most compromised, he’s still as gentle as ever. You don’t feel him undo your pants or sneak his hand in them, but you definitely feel him press the pads of his fingers against your clothed clit. Air escapes through your nose in a huff of surprise and you hum in his mouth, hips jolting at his touch. He can feel your slickness through your underwear. 

“Oh, my pretty girl.” He sighs, breaking the kiss and directing his whispers in your ear again. “All wet for me?”

“Please..” Even with your broken whimper you beg him for more. 

“Like this?” His deft fingers swipe your panties to the side, fingers landing directly on the clit this time. 

They feel cold at first. The contrast against your heated body makes you squirm and you groan in a soft, high pitch. 

“What are you feeling right now?” He pries a verbal response from you, circling your bud lightly. “Tell me.”

“Good.” You sigh, eyes shut as you try to savour the pleasure. 

“Good?” His voice is still soft against your ear.

“Mhm.” You nod, one arm draping against his shoulder and the other hand running along his scruffy jaw. “So good.” 

“And this?” He adds pressure to his movements. “Does this feel good?”

Your hips buck again and he feels rewarded when you moan. There’s no doubt that the sound of your voice is his favourite. He especially loves it when it’s directed at him. Whether that be in the form of a laugh or your sweet moans. It makes him somewhat dizzy. His lips attach to the skin just under your jaw in an attempt to coax more. 

It’s very effective. Fingers working your bundle of nerves, circling and flicking while changing the pressure, and mouth kissing and sucking near your pulse. It makes your back arch, hand gripping his shoulder so you don’t float away. He’s careful not to leave any purple traces of him on your neck, mindful of you being bombarded with questions from your colleagues.  

“I love how reactive you are, Angel. You sound divine– fuck.” He can’t help the grunt that escapes him. “You are divine.”

His touch alone is enough to make you feel electric, but the sweet nothings he’s whispering in your ear will be what send you over the edge. It’s a foreign feeling, being reminded that he values you for more than just your body. Just under an hour ago you had incredibly high walls built around you and none of them are left standing as you exposed under him.

Spencer’s not the first man to touch you, but he is the first that loves you. It’s something you’re not at all used to and it feels as overwhelming as it does good. It transcends the want, no, the need for the man on top of you beyond lust or love. You plan to show him just how strong that need is tonight. 

The carpeted floor is littered with your clothes, carelessly thrown around and tiny chess pieces scattered around the abandoned chess board. Spencer’s comfortably lying on the couch, facing the ceiling and you’re lying directly on top of him with your face buried in his neck. 

You run your fingers back and forth along his jaw, scratching his beard in slow streaks. He’s enveloped you in his arms, one around your lower back and the other playing with your hair. It doesn’t feel as peaceful as it seems, both of you are afraid of being the first to speak. You know you can’t stay like this forever and you decide to bite the bullet. 

“Spencer?” 

You only get silence from his end. You know he’s awake because his motions in your hair don’t stop. You push yourself up to face him, trying to study his face. The sudden movement brings him back from wherever he was zoned out to. 

“Hm?” His features jump.

Does he regret it?

“What’s wrong?” Your voice shakes from worry. “You have this look on your face.” 

“Nothing’s wrong. I’m just thinking.” 

“About…?” 

“How bad we are at communicating.” He chuckles. “It’s concerning when you think about how all we ever do is talk.” 

Hearing this makes you snort and you fall into him again. It sends both of you into a short fit of laughter. 

“Oh that’s promising for the success of this relationship.” You giggle, sarcasm evident. 

Hearing relationship makes Spencer inhale sharply. 

“So you’re staying?” 

“Well obviously, Dingbat.” You scoff playfully at the question and shift upright, straddling him. “But we really do need to get better at the communication thing for this to work.”

Spencer mounts his weight on his hands by either side of him and pushes himself up to you, stealing a deep kiss. 

“Yes, we absolutely do.” He whispers, breaking away for only a second. 

The kisses fizzle in you a plethora of smaller kisses. 

“Spencer, I’m– serious.” You voice in between, loosely draping your arms on his shoulders. 

“I am too.” He says in a hushed tone as he pulls away. 

“I want to take it– this,” you motion between the two of you with your finger, “us, slow. Not four years slow, but, like, by a couple of months at the very least.”

“Okay.” He agrees, his eyes scouring your face with complete adoration. It’s not ideal, but he understands where you’re coming from. 

“That means that we start again. Romantically. We have to talk about a lot of things first.” 

He shifts his body out from under you, resting his back properly against the couch and pulls you back into his lap in one swift motion. Both of his hands graze from your shoulder to your wrist.

“How about…you come over this weekend,” He suggests, wrapping his arms around your waist for a hug, “we’ll do snacks, a movie, maybe an actual game of chess.” 

“That sounds like a date.” You wrap your arms around his neck to return the gesture and lean your forehead against his. 

“It’s not a date. Not yet, anyways.” He whispers. “I’m asking you to come over this weekend so we can talk about things properly, because frankly, I don’t think either of us is in the right headspace for it right now.” 

“Should I be offended at that?” You giggle, not entirely sure what he’s alluding to. 

“No!” He snorts with a high tone. “Dopamine aside, our Norepinephrine and Serotonin levels are too high right now for us to have a proper conversation about this.” 

“I’m not saying that you’re wrong, because you’re not, but I also think you’re just using science to try and confuse me, so that I agree to wherever this speech is heading.” 

“It’s times like this where your attentiveness puts me at a disadvantage, because this tactic has a hundred percent success rate on everybody else.” He grins and you chuckle, both leaning in for another kiss. 

“Can we hold off on starting over? Just for tonight.” He reluctantly voices, not wanting to push any boundaries. 

You draw back and raise your eyebrows with your eyes widened. 

“Spence, I have waited for years for this. You’re insane if you think I’m giving that up without relishing in it for at least a night. We’re not starting over until we’re both officially back on the clock.” 

“Okay.” He heaves from relief, leaning in for another kiss, but quickly withdraws with a new question. “Don’t you think the team’s going to be suspicious when we’re not fighting tomorrow?”

“Forget them, what am I gonna say to Hotch when I ask to withdraw my resignation?” You huff out a tiny groan. “He’s gonna hate me for all this paperwork.”

Paperwork reminds you why you’re here to begin with. You audibly gasp, jumping off Spencer and scrambling to put your clothes back on. 

“Fuck! Spencer, get dressed!” 

Spencer doesn’t share your panic, but adheres to your demand. You mutter a continuous line of obscenities as you throw on your clothes and when you don’t seem to be getting calmer, he intervenes. 

“Hey, hey, hey!” He coos as he steps towards you, still undressed on the upper-half. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong is that we’ve been here for hours!” You shriek, now fully dressed. 

You push past Spencer and grab his shirt, deciding that he was too slow on his own. He lets you dress him as he probes further. 

“That’s okay. No one’s going to notice this late.” 

“No– Spence–” You sigh, throwing your head back. “In less than four hours, Hotch is going to walk into his office expecting the Anchorage report on his desk. I’ve barely been able to get half of it done in weeks, how am I going to finish it in four hours?”

You shake your head and begin working on his buttons. He grabs your wrists, urging you to look at him. 

“You’ll have it done in less than one. I’ll help you!” His voice is light, airy, soft and accompanied with a chuckle.

“Spencer, you’ve already been here later than you need to be. It’s okay–”

“Let me help you.” He resorts to pleading, releasing your wrists and cupping your face.

You don’t have it in you to argue, his eyes staring back at you with sincerity. He wants to help. There’s no point in pushing him away, because as scared as you are about being too vulnerable with your trauma from that case, you trust him wholeheartedly. You know he won’t push for more than what you choose to share right now.

“Okay.” You nod and smile into the kiss he leans in for after the confirmation. 

“Okay. Now, you go and start some coffee.” he instructs softly with a wide grin, waving to the scattered chess ensemble. “ I’m going to clean up here and join you.”

“I love you!” You lean for another kiss and hushedly exclaim as you break away, receding towards the door. 

It’s Spencer’s turn to lose his breath. He’s affirmed his love for you countless times tonight and this is the first time you’ve verbally reciprocated it. He knows that it won’t be the last time either. That, to him, makes him the luckiest man in the world. He stops you from going any further by your arm and gently yanks you in his direction, crashing his lips with yours. 

“I love you too.” He whispers after the kiss, letting you go. 

Heat rises in your face again and you struggle to hide a huge dopey smile, one that Spencer has too. You’re floating on cloud nine, finally out of the blurry hurricane you’ve endured for months. There’s still a lot of things that you need to work out, but the thought of them doesn’t make you feel dread like it once did. 

"One word frees us of all the weight and pain in life. That word is Love." - Socrates

Spoilers: Yapperoni (so much dialog in this chapter), BAU! Reader, enemies (kinda) to lovers, hurt, comfort, love confessions (they might be a little too sappy, idk, I was sleep deprived), the praise made me giddy at some point, smut but I edge you by not writing out everything, happy ending.

AN - I have a little tiny fear that people (me) will nawt (I don’t) fuck with this monstrosity, but out of all my drafts, this felt like the most natural course of action. I thought it would be really fun to go from friends to enemies to lovers. Now, literally nobody talk to me about writing fics after this. Uni’s started, so I’ll be very inconsistent for a bit. Casual reminder: I am not Spencer Reid. I don’t have an IQ of 187. Any facts I make him spew could very well be bull-shit and he only spews them for the purpose of the story. I also have no knowledge of how the FBI works and lack a ton of common sense. A lot of things were made up for the purpose of this story.

A comment today keeps semicolon away (from showing up to your house and eating all your snacks).

Thank you for reading!

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

They unknowingly bring up an insecurity Seungmin|Pt1

Pt2 Pt3

Your heart was strung in your throat. Seungmin was always one to tease; and for the most part he was good about shying away from topics you were sensitive about so no problems had ever arisen. But as you read over his texts over and over again you felt your heart pinch in a way that was all to similar to what you had felt in your previous relationship.

"You talk too much, you know that?" Your ex had told you that numerous times, and eventually it led to a break up. And your constant yapping became something that made you insecure.

But when you first met Seungmin you felt like you were perfect the way you were. Chan had said you would balance Seungmin out quite well. And up until now you felt as if that were the case.

Now you wondered if maybe you did become to much.

Maybe the constant chatter had become annoying to the quiet boy you loved dearly.

And while you had been in love numerous times before, it hurt more to even think of losing Seungmin than all your previous heart breaks combined. And that was a lot considering you had always been the one to have your heart broken.

You couldn't tear yourself away from your phone screen - rereading those texts and overanalyizing the tone.

Maybe it was in a light hearted way? Or maybe it was the complete opposite and it was fully aggression?

You sat there trying to pick apart every single meaning, connotation, and tone the words he sent could have when your phone dimed again.

"I'm guessing your busy shopping since my phone has been quite for more than fifteen minutes. Haha, I think that's a first!"

You did everything in your power to try and bite back the knot in your throat from coming up and causing tears. So much so your eyes started to burn and you ended up shedding a few quietly.

The rest of the day you busied yourself with miniscule little tasks like dusting the fans and sweeping the welcome mat that you intended to take along with you when you moved in with Seungmin.

You tried to take your mind off of the texts. You figured Seungmin didn’t mean it in anyway malicious sort of way. In fact you knew he meant it as a lighthearted joke. In the time you had spent with him you had easily learned just how kind and loving of a person he was, and how much he cared for you.

You just couldn’t shake the hurt from those words - and more importantly the fear you had deep down that there was some truth to the words he had sent.

By the time Seungmin arrived at your apartment it was early evening. Every Wednesday you guys would cook together ever since you witnessed him and Felix blowing food up by accident on a live. Seungmin followed the normal routine of slipping off his shoes and into his house slippers and immediately changing into a cheap shirt he had bought when you first had started your endeavors since he was smart enough to realize he was a messy cook.

“Hey baby.” He said as he greeted you with a quick hug from behind and a chaste kiss to the cheek before he went to wash his hands.

You have a small noise of acknowledgement as Seungmin dried his hands off on a plaid towel and turned to you with happy anticipation.

“What are we cooking today?”

“Spaghetti and meatballs.” You replied as you started to grab the necessary ingredients. Seungmin followed you around like a happy puppy and helped you a carry everything to the counter you reserved for preparation of ingredients.

“So how do we start?” Seungmin asked. By now he had noticed your face was a little droopy and your responses were short and if there was any conversation it was only in answer to his initiation.

“With the ground beef.” You said as you pulled out a big bowl to put the meat and seasonings in. Seungmin watched you from his peripheral as you poured in some panco bread crumbs and a bunch of other various aromatic seasonings while he opened up the meat packaging.

As he kneeled everything with his hands he tried asking you about your day.

“So did you end up ordering the mugs baby?”

“No, I didn’t.” Silence.

“Oh…maybe after dinner we can look on Etsy together? Or maybe find a website to customize them? It might seem like a lot but I think the guys would really appreciate your sentiment.”

“Yeah, we can do that.” Silence.

Seungmin started to roll out oddly and unevenly shaped meatballs and continued to try and ask you questions as you guys worked, but your answers we short. Not rude. But literally short.

Not thouroghly explained like usual.

Even at dinner you were quiet and barely even touched your food.

“Do you not feel good baby?” Seungmin asked you as you played with a piece of garlic bread.

“I feel okay…maybe a little tired.” You said popping the piece into your mouth as if to show you were feeling fine.

Seungmin sighed and put his fork down.

“Did my text hurt your feelings?” He had been worrying about it all day when he had seen you had left him on read. It was an odd thing but nevertheless endearing when you would finish a conversation over text and send a meme to him just to acknowledge the end of the conversation, and to make sure he “didn’t find it hurtful” that you had left him on read. Even if he constantly assured you it was in no way shape or form a problem.

You hadn’t sent him a meme. And the more he thought about it he realized that his humor might not have translated through text.

“Im sorry if I hurt your feelings. It was a joke, Y/N. I would never purposefully want to hurt you. I love when you share about your day. I was a bit tied up so while you texting me might have been inconvienent at the moment doesnt mean I don’t appreciate you wanting me to know everything about what you are doing. I love that you want me to be a part of your life , even the tiny thing.”

“It’s okay babe.” You replied putting a smile on your face. “I know you didn’t mean it to hurt me. I’m just tired that’s all.” You let out a breath as you stood up and collected Seungmin’s plate. “Maybe we can just watch a movie instead of shopping? I just don’t feel like thinking very much right now in any capacity…” You let out quietly.

“Of course.” Seungmin responded, trailing you into the kitchen as you set the plates in the sink. “I love you.” He said quietly, his voice lilting up slightly. Were you actually okay?

“I love you too Minmin.” You place a a small kiss next to his eye and head towards the living room.

During the movie Seungmin kept stealing glances at you as you leaned on him but not into him. As you laughed but the curve of your mouth didn’t exactly reach your eyes. And how those same eyes were focused on the screen but your mind was obviously some place else.

Although you had said you were fine your silence gave him the answer you actually wanted to give. That Seungmin had struck a nerve more sensitive than he had known.

[velvetcrimsonkisses]

Nanami falling in love...

It went without saying Nanami was an independent man. From the start of the day it was him by himself. No one to worry about and he liked it that way honestly. He succeeded on his own, not that he liked it. It was just easier. Being on his own gave him a sense of control of his life even with a job like his. The freedom to do whatever he wanted without anyone worrying about him.

That was until he met you. One minute in your presence, Nanami knew he didn’t want to spend another day alone anymore. From the moment you walked into his life, his perspective on everything changed. You brought a whole new meaning of life into his eyes. New feelings he didn't know how to process took over his body.

Nanami’s once simple life wasn’t so anymore. Life beginning anew now that you were here. The simplicity of his life now taken over by something so much more complex. And little by little Nanami started noticing the changes.

His once dark and secluded house evolved into a warm, inviting home. No more locking himself in his room when he got home, he walked into your embrace now. Your presence lit up the entire room and suddenly Nanami felt energized again. Somehow you took all the weight off his shoulders, one kiss at a time. Admiring how embarrassed he would get at receiving just the slightest amount of affection. A man once unaffected by anything was now crumbling under your touch.

Nanami who used to wake up at 6 am every morning. Now woke up as late as he wanted to, because he just couldn’t leave your side. Turning his head to face you every morning where you now sleep right next to him. He never shared his bed with anyone before but with you, it just felt right. He believed with all his heart that this is where you belonged. He admired your chest as it rose and fell softly as you breathed, how your hair framed your face, and how your eyelashes fluttered as you slept. And it takes everything in him to not reach his hand out to touch you and make sure this was real. That he wasn’t dreaming. That you were actually next to him.

Walking into the kitchen where he used to prepare his solitary meals, he was now accompanied by another pair of hands. Pans and silverware clinking as you talk his ear off about what you did today. He couldn’t help but smile at you as his mind wanders to how someone could be so interesting. He admires at what you used to be such a simple act because it was necessary for him to eat, became a gesture of care and affection for both of you.

Nanami's evening jogs now turned into walks. The runs he did to escape thoughts, were now replaced with walks with you and he suddenly feels like a nervous teenager with his first crush. The cool, crisp air hits his face but warmth spreads all through his body as he feels you right next to him. The familiar streets now shined in a different light that you were here. Nanami found himself stealing glances at you, gazing at the way you illuminated the darkness around him. Ending your walk with a pastry from the bakery Nanami took you on your first date.

Nanami who found sex unnecessary, relieving himself just to get rid of the stress on his body. He now couldn't control his urge for you. You showed him the true meaning of loving someone. New desires awaken in his body with your every touch. He quickly learned how to love you passionately and fully. Committing himself to your every need and you to his. He didn’t understand that it could be like this, at least not for him. No one had ever looked at him the way you did while he was deep inside you and he wasn’t ever going to give it up.

Your hugs, your kisses, your laughs. Your entire existence and essence. He yearned for all of it. Every little moment, he cherished all of it. He felt indebted to you, knowing he could never fully repay what you had given him. A love so profound and fulfilling. Something that he could only have dreamt of. He found everything good with you, loneliness never had to haunt him again.

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