#and have people come to me and ask if they can do something like walk to the shops or have their friends over

[finelinevogue]

victim

summary - you’re the victim of a crime but you refuse to admit that fact

❗️[ mentions of violence + an attack on reader ]

word count - +1k

pairing - aaron hotchner x bau-gf!reader

You had been walking back from work when you’d got jumped.

You never saw him coming out of the dark alley as you’d walked past and you definitely never saw the blade that he had with him.

Apart from a few bruises and scratches you were otherwise okay. In fact, you had been fortunate that it hadn’t been something more severe.

Although, the team didn’t see it that way.

Your boss - and boyfriend - didn’t see it that way either.

“You need to tell us, Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes at the team as they gathered around your desk whilst you unpacked.

It wasn’t even 9 in the morning and you were already being hounded by your colleagues. It was days like this when you seriously questioned whether a job at a fast food restaurant would’ve been easier.

You didn’t respond to Morgan and instead carried unpacking your bag.

“Y/N, c’mon.” JJ said.

You put your bag on the floor, finished with that.

“Excuse me.” You said with a smile as you parted through the team to get to the kitchenette. You were going to need a coffee if you wanted to get through today.

The rest of the team stayed huddled around your desk, possibly waiting for you to return.

You made your coffee in silence - adding milk and sugar as you thought up the best plan to tell your boyfriend that you’d been mugged last night and had waited over 12 hours to tell him.

Aaron hated having secrets between you two and you knew he’d hate this even more.

Just as you gave your coffee a stir, a hand came out of nowhere and cupped your chin firmly but not enough to hurt and turned your face towards them. Towards him.

“Aaron…” You sighed, hating the look in his eyes when they fell across your face.

He was no doubt taking in the appearance of your black-eye, your grazed and bruised cheek as well as a slight cut to your upper lip.

His eyes held fury as well as concern - similar to the rest of the teams.

“You wanna tell me who did this to you, or do you want me to find out the hard way?” He asked, not even questioning whether you were okay.

At his comment you sighed and turned your head away and out of his grasp. You made your way back to your desk with your coffee, no doubt not alone.

“Y/N…” Aaron started, but you zoned out to block him out.

You did not need pity today and you especially didn’t want it from your boyfriend. You were a federal agent for goodness sake.

A federal agent that couldn’t even defend herself.

“Please go.” You tried to shoo everyone away, but no one was having any of it.

Most of the time you were really lovely, if not all of the time. People often commented that you were the sunshine to Hotch’s grey skies. However today you were not in the mood for being cheery and you could feel the short fuse that you did have expiring.

“If you just gave us a description…” Reid said softly.

“Or the location.” Garcia added.

“We can help —.”

You cut Hotch off and stood up from your desk abruptly.

“I’m not a goddamn victim in one of your unsub profiles. Just leave me alone!” You shouted, which quietened the entire office down. It was so so quiet that all that could be heard was your laboured breathing.

You could feel the tears ever so slowly brewing behind your eyes and so left the office before you could make any more of a scene.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.

An FBI agent was not supposed to be so easily surprised and attacked. You felt weak and embarrassed. The humiliation of even thinking about telling the team what had happened was too much - you just couldn’t.

<.>.<.>

Of course Aaron came to find you.

And of course he knew where to find you.

You didn’t make it difficult and you weren’t technically hiding, but only Aaron would’ve known where to find you and that was kind of the point.

You had been kind of a bitch to the team before, when they were only trying to help, but Aaron especially. You were always nagging at him to be honest and open up and yet here you were doing the complete opposite, so you hoped that he would come and find you so that you could apologise.

There had been a bench that was around the back of the building that you liked. It faced away from Quantico and towards trees and bushes and blue skies. It was a little outlook on what the world is without all its’ mess.

Aaron didn’t need to say anything as he approached you. The sound of leaves crunching beneath his shoes was enough of a tell.

He sat down right next to you, knees clicking as he did. One of his arms rested along the back of the bench behind you and the other sat comfortably on his thigh.

He looked out upon the greenery the same way you did.

“You know I’ll pull rank on this conversation if I have to, don’t you?” He started.

“I know.” You sighed - the downsides of dating your boss.

“So talk to me.”

His fingers curled from the back of the bench onto your shoulder, tugging your body infinitely closer to his. Your head made its way closer to resting on his shoulder.

Hotch moved the slightest move into you and your head fell comfortably on his shoulder. You wanted to bury yourself in the comforting scent of his neck, but you knew he wouldn’t let you until you’d talked.

“I don’t know where to start.”

“Try telling me where you were. What were you doing?” Hotch prompted.

“I was on my way home when he… attacked me…” You recalled.

“Hey pretty lady.”

Just keep walking, your mind told you. Pay no attention to this man.

You walked another two steps before a hand aggressively grips your upper-arm and tugs you back hard.

You don’t have enough time to pull out your gun from your bag before the mans other hand comes round to punch you in the face, sending your head veering to one direction.

You cry in pain but there’s no one around to see you.

You live in a fairly well-lit neighbourhood, with a mixture of family homes and apartment blocks, but at 11PM there’s barely anyone walking the streets. It’s a quiet enough neighbourhood where the rules of being quiet after dark are obeyed.

Your bad dropped to the floor - your pride with it.

“You answer me when I’m speaking, bitch.” He spat in your face.

You mentally tried to remember as much of his facial appearance as possible in case something went really bad and you had to sit before a sketch artist.

He shook you in his hold and the pain from his punch ricocheted through your head.

When your head tilted back to face him he hit you again, catching your eye this time.

You started crying then, fearing for your life. This was not how you wanted to go and you’d be damned if this man got anything more out of you.

“And then I kicked him in the balls so hard that I think he felt them in his throat.” You finished your recount to Hotch.

His arm was fully around you now, running comforting patterns over your shirt along your upper-arm - exactly where the unsub had grabbed you.

You didn’t know if he was doing it intentionally, but you loved the gesture nevertheless.

“You were so brave.”

You scoffed.

“Not brave enough. Barely held it together. It was like all my FBI training was forgotten and I was as helpless as a damsel in distress. I wasn’t brave. I was an embarrassment.” You sounded out of breath as you finished talking.

Aaron just shook his head.

“Y/N, you were assaulted and you survived.”

Alone. You survived alone. You heard the unspoken words he wasn’t saying. But he was right. You had gone through something so traumatic and you came out the other side pretty unscathed compared to how these situations normally go down.

It sucked that you had become a victim, but you were. A victim of survival.

“I survived.” You said, trying to find the confidence as you spoke those words.

“You did, honey.” Hotch nodded, “What were you doing out so late anyways, sweetheart?”

You tilted your head down a little, away from him.

“I just wanted to get some flowers.”

“Honey, speak up. I can’t hear you.” Hotch said softly.

You sat up. Braving him.

You looked at Aaron in his eyes. They were so warm and soft. You felt like you could melt under his gaze.

“I was about to go to bed but I couldn’t stop thinking about every nice thing you’d done for me last week when I wasn’t feeling too well. I just needed to get you something. I went with the intention of buying you a bunch of flowers as a small thank you, which I know isn’t even a good gift but—.”

“Hang on, no. No, no.” Aaron stopped you, bringing his hand from his thigh up to cup your cheek, “You were going to buy me flowers?”

“Yeah.” You gave a small smile.

“Just… just because?”

“I guess.”

He gave you a small smile. It really was small, but it felt so significant on its own way. You didn’t need to see a full teeth smile from Hotch to know that he was happy. The little ones were telling enough.

His thumb stroked over your cheek, careful against the bruises on your face.

“What?” You asked nervously, because he was taking too long to say something.

“I really didn’t believe you existed, you know?”

“Hmm?” You didn’t follow his thoughts.

Hotch looked into your eyes, down to your lips and across to your damaged skin all at once. It was like he was scanning for something.

“Someone so perfect.”

It was as if he was speaking to himself more than you.

He took his time and care to kiss you on the cheek. Even though it was an emotional moment and one that needed tender care, Aaron still wouldn’t risk too much PDA and especially not outside the FBI headquarters.

His lips were warm against your skin, making up for how cold you’d been here sat without him.

You closed your eyes and inhaled his perfect scent.

He leaned back from your face, double checking to make sure he didn’t hurt you any extra. He would no doubt spend this evening loving on you extra tenderly, giving a silly amount of kisses to your wounds.

He looked you in the eyes once more as you still felt the touch of his lips linger on your cheek, and then the emotion in his eyes turned from one of love to one of determination.

“I’m going to find this son of a bitch. And so help him God when I do.”

[wondergirlsthings]

Beachside Boundaries

Lando Norris x Reader

The sun was blazing, the waves crashing gently onto the shore as you settled into your spot on the beach. It was the perfect day for relaxation—a break from the hustle and chaos of the F1 season. You were with Lando and a group of friends on a private stretch of beach, enjoying some well-earned downtime.

You smoothed down your bikini, a vibrant blue two-piece you’d been saving for a day like this. It fit perfectly and brought out the color of your eyes, which Lando had already complimented earlier in the day. As you made your way toward the shoreline to dip your toes in the water, you heard laughter behind you.

“Y/N, you’re turning heads today,” one of the guys in your group called out teasingly. You glanced back and grinned, brushing it off as lighthearted fun.

But when your eyes met Lando’s, his usual playful demeanor was replaced by something else—his brows furrowed slightly, his jaw tense. He was watching you intently from his spot under the beach umbrella, his hand gripping the armrest of his chair.

You shrugged it off at first, thinking he was just tired. But as the day went on, his mood seemed to sour more and more. By the time you walked back up from the water, drying your hair with a towel, he was already on his feet.

“Hey, can we talk for a second?” he asked, his voice calm but tinged with tension.

You raised an eyebrow, confused. “Sure. What’s up?”

He gestured for you to follow him a few steps away from the group. Once you were alone, he crossed his arms over his chest, avoiding your eyes for a moment before speaking.

“Do you have to wear that bikini?”

Your jaw dropped slightly. “Excuse me? What’s wrong with my bikini?”

“It’s… nothing’s wrong with it,” he said quickly, running a hand through his hair. “You look amazing, Y/N. You always do. But…” He trailed off, glancing back toward the group. “You’ve seen the way they’re looking at you.”

You tilted your head, trying to process his words. “Lando, are you seriously upset because people are looking at me?”

He sighed, his hands dropping to his sides. “I’m not upset, I’m just… I don’t like it. You’re mine, Y/N, and I hate the idea of anyone else thinking they can…” He gestured vaguely, unable to find the right words.

“Lando,” you said softly, stepping closer to him. “I’m yours. You don’t have to worry about anyone else. I only care about what you think.”

His shoulders relaxed slightly, but he still looked unconvinced. “I know that, but it’s hard not to feel protective. You’re gorgeous, and I can’t stand the idea of someone else staring at you like that.”

You placed your hands on his chest, looking up at him with a reassuring smile. “You don’t need to be jealous, Lando. I love you, and nothing’s going to change that. Besides, it’s just a bikini. It doesn’t mean anything more than me enjoying the sunshine.”

He let out a small laugh, finally meeting your eyes. “You’re right. I’m being ridiculous, aren’t I?”

“A little,” you teased, standing on your toes to kiss his cheek. “But I kind of like it when you’re protective. Just don’t go overboard, okay?”

He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you close. “I’ll try. But if anyone gets too close, I’m not above reminding them you’re taken.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Fair enough. Now, come back to the group and stop sulking. We’re supposed to be having fun.”

With a sheepish grin, Lando followed you back to the beach chairs. His jealousy might have been a bit over the top, but you knew it came from a place of love. And in the end, that was all that mattered.

[butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway]

I am not EVERY autistic person so this probably won't be a total coverage approach, but here's what I have learned:

People like to feel that you pay attention to and remember little but important things about them. And when someone is "small-talking" with you, it is often because they either want to offer you some of that info about themselves, or they want to pearn it about you so they can "return the effort". I think of it a bit like call and response with my cats! They don't understand me, and I don't understand them, but when I walk into the kitchen each morning, Lup runs towards me excitedly making her tiny little squeaks and trills. That's kitty small-talk! Many words of all varieties just say "I love you! I missed you! I'm happy to be here with you today!"

So I answer her! Sometimes I mimic her little sounds, and other times I pretend we're gossiping like church ladies (*gasp* NO, you're KIDDING, he said THAT?? What a scandal!") But whichever I do Lup gets excited and continues her little "conversation" with me.

People are harder. I had to really take time and practice different ways of responding before I found appropriate "call and response" for small talk, but I found that there are genuinely more options than you'd think. And the same thing happened! As I learned how to "call and respond" to small talk, I found that people would excitedly approach me to have it, and gradually we got to know each other enough that the "calls" coming from both sides got less general, more tailored to our personal preferences and interests, and I didn't have to small talk as much (but when I did it wasn't as scary either)

This isn't just my personal theory either! A fair amount of research in interpersonal/social in-group dynamics suggests that "bids for attention" like small talk function in this way of call-and-response intimacy/connection building. I have found that a LOT of social etiquette gets less scary to navigate when I at least understand the function of it. It also gave me some understsnding of why people might be hurt when I visibly don't WANT to "respond" to a "call" they've made: I'm the same way about my "calls" I just use different ones! The way I feel when I ask someone "would you want to hang out with me in the kitchen while I make lunch?" (Sad, a little anxious or vulnerable, maybe hurt if they've said no to a LOT of recent calls, etc) is the same way others feel when I decline theirs! That doesn't change if it was MISSED rather than DECLINED, but it can be repaired! Ao another thing I've taken to doing is naming for people the calls I have learned I'm most likely to miss. I know I have a hard time understanding/recognizing small talk as a call to attention, so I let people know that! And generally the people I connect best with are the ones who notice I missed a call and offer me an explicit/direct opportunity to reject it before internalizing what I've done as a rejection. This isn't really an option for everyone! And while I'm always delighted when someone is compatible with me in that way, I don't get upset if they're not, and work to not take it personally as something I'm doing wrong either.

Anyway, this got rambly at the end there, but the point is, most social interactions have a FUNCTION and while being autistic frequently means that we struggle to learn and interact in these systems as they currently exist, but that doesn't necessarily mean that we don't also depend on those functions. I think it can be easy to forget that part of the "disabling" effects of social/communication symptoms in autism is how it cuts us off from systems of support, care, and human interconectedness (things we still NEED) and it can matter to our quality of life to be able to find compatible alternatives to fulfilling those functions even if the original mechanism (small talk in this case) doesn't suit us.

Being bad at small talk doesn't mean you don't need friends, but it will probably make it very hard to MAKE friends. And we each and all deserve to decide for ourselves what to do about that.

I'm trying to figure out a good way to say "you really should actually learn the basics of small talk" with sounding like I'm biased against autistic people.

[mameillieureennemie]

Hey i think it would be cool if you do another jinx x femreader ishas sister and something about isha walking in on a cute moment and getting grossed out maybe some angst😌 maybe some smut 😙😙 if u do that

hey love! sorry this took so long, but i hope you enjoy and thank you for the request :)

jinx x f!isha's sister!reader

there're hardly any moments you two can get alone. with the whole of piltover after you and the whole of zaun championing your girlfriend, it's been a very rough couple of weeks.

most of your time is spent hiding out, and during that time, you're entertaining isha as much as you can. whether that be through beetle brawling, drawing, or re-dying her hair so it doesn't lose its blue. it's anything you can do to keep her happy, to keep her away from the impending war that brews on outside.

but then a moment comes along where isha disappears. which isn't entirely odd because she's been known to vanish from time to time. you've grown used to it, after years of observing her movements, and calm jinx down when her look for isha grows a bit frantic.

"she's fine," you assure jinx, rubbing at her shoulder. "i wouldn't be this calm if i knew she wouldn't be."

"yeah, but," jinx says, running a shaky hand through her hair. "it's getting dangerous out there, and isha isn't us. she's young; she's practically a baby, and people are sick fucks with deranged brains and—"

you instantly draw jinx into your arms, tugging at her until her face is in the crook of your neck. you rub soothing circles against her back, softly cooing until jinx's muttering falls silent. then her arms are curling around your waist, holding you close, as if she's scared you'll disappear too.

"i know it's hard," you say gently. "to trust that things are okay. that the people you love are okay. but you can trust me and trust that i know what i'm talking about." you lean back so you can hold jinx's face in your hands, smoothing your thumbs over the angle of her cheekbones. "so trust me on this, okay? isha's fine, and she knows what to do if she runs into any trouble."

jinx seems unconvinced, but she slowly relaxes as she nuzzles into your touch. with a heavy sigh, she closes her eyes and says, "i've...never had to worry like this before. usually, it was others worrying about me. because i was the jinx, y'know? so it's odd...feeling this way."

you hum in response, still tracing patterns into her cheeks. "feeling what way?" you ask, a little curious and jinx opens her eyes with a shrug.

"responsible?" she tries, before shaking her head. "i don't know, i just—the idea of anything happening to you or isha rips me up inside. like i'd permanently lose my mind, go absolutely fucking crazy if something bad happened to you guys."

you hum again, this time with a hint of a chuckle. but her words have your heart racing because that's exactly how you feel. it also means that what jinx is experiencing is probably similar to your experience.

that she—

"you love us," you whisper, barely loud enough for jinx to hear. but she hears it, loud and clear, as she stares at you with eyes that momentarily look powder blue.

"i...do," she whispers, just as loud, and it's enough to push you. enough to have you pull her in so you can press a sweet kiss against her lips. a kiss she reciprocates eagerly, her arms still tight around your waist, placing you in a trap you hope to never escape.

just as she licks into your mouth with a soft moan, there's a noise that startles you both. you pull apart quickly, looking around and sighing when you see that it's isha.

whose nose is scrunched up in disgust, eyes clenched shut.

you can't help but laugh loudly as jinx snorts, refusing to let you go.

"some nerve you got," jinx scolds playfully. "you couldn't have come back in like twenty minutes?"

you shove jinx, just as playful, and say, "isha, you can open your eyes."

but isha shakes her head, intent of keeping her eyes safe.

but she's smiling now, and that's all that matters.

[nerdygirlramblings]

omegaverse 141

previous

The following morning, after formation, you have your squad follow you onto the trail that runs around base. The same one Soap had seen you running a few weeks back.

"You didn't tell us we be runnin' today, Sarge," Geoffrey says, barely concealing a whine.

You chuckle to yourself and roll your eyes. Glancing over your shoulder you ask, "When have I led ya wrong?" Your squad is quiet behind you. They may not want to socialize with you as an omega, but there's no denying you've been getting the job done. "Brought ya out here cuz I wanted to talk. And to do it without any alphas or other CO's around."

There's some muttering behind you, not loud enough to make anything out, but not quiet enough to dismiss either. You notice a change in the air around you. Though they're betas and have learned how to project their calming scent, most are still working on controlling their fear and distress. You can smell the slightly sour milk and rush to allay their worries.

You turn to face them and say, "You're not in trouble! We are not in trouble." You face the trail again and resume your walk, talking as you go, "But something's come up, and it impacts everyone." You pick up your pace ever so slightly . You're looking for the clearing you'd passed the first time you ran here. It's a little space set off from the main trail, big enough for a few people to camp or for a squad to meet. You want to get there quickly to have this whole conversation out rather than dropping breadcrumbs. Your squad deserves that.

Once everyone is off the trail and standing around you, you tell them about the offer you've received from the 141. "Oh my God," Molly whispers, awe in her voice. "There, like, the best!"

You bob your head in acknowledgment and respond, "Some of, yes." It's clear that your squad doesn't understand the full implications of you joining the 141. So you lay it out for them. "If I take this opportunity, they'll pull me as your CO. Captain Price said -"

A voice interrupts, "You mean you actually talked to Captain Price?!?" You smile self-indulgently remembering how awed you were when the man first approached you.

"Yes, and 'e said that it's too disruptive for any of the 141 to have a squad of their own. Apparently, we can be called out at any point, and be gone for weeks. It would leave ya without a commanding officer." You look at each member of your squad, meeting everyone's eyes. "If I do this, you'll have a new CO. I don't know who it would be, and I don't know what that would mean for your trainin'. 'At's why I brought ya out here. Wanted to get yer honest take on what this means fer ya." There's some uneasy shuffling as it seems no one wants to quite be honest about their feelings. You remind them that you're not like other COs, and that you're an omega. Not that they need the reminder about either, but it seems to help settle some nerves. "I know it's hard fer ya having an omega as a CO. I know the stigma it carries. While this decision is mine and mine alone, yer time here is impacted by it, so I wanted to know what ya think."

It finally occurs to some members of your squad that they can be honest with you. "Yeah, 's tough around base having you as our CO. There're still a lot of alphas who won't want us on their team because you're the one who is trained us," Connor says.

One by one, your squad shares how they feel about you joining the 141. Some are like Connor and recognize the strain it puts on their careers to have you as their CO. Some are like Molly, excited for your opportunity regardless of what it does for them. Some are like Geoffrey, recognizing how they've struggled and realizing that a different CO, a beta or an alpha who is harsher, will make their time in the military much more difficult.

You get the sense - from what they say and how they smell - that most of your squad have already accepted that you'll leave them. Some may be happy about this because of the way it might benefit them while others simply seem happy for you. You close by telling them to make their way to the shooting range to practice on the Glock 17s. You remind them that after range practice is lunch with the promise of a decision for them by the time you see them in the mess.

"An' I promise, if I do take Captain Price up on his offer, I'll still keep tabs on you. Gotta make sure you all make it through basic as brilliantly as I know you can," you say with a rueful grin.

Your squad disperses from the clearing, making their way in twos and threes back to base, but you hang back. You pull your phone out and call home, finally ready with a decision.

This time it's Mum who answers. She takes one look at your face and shouts off screen to Mama and Dad "We've got a decision!" There's commotion on the other end as Mama and Dad come into frame.

"I hope I'm not interrupting," you say apologetically.

Dad reminds you he's on glorified bedrest, "So either yer Mum or yer Mama is always home. This morning I've got both." He smiles, "But a call from you is never an interruption. Or, if it is, it's the best kind."

Mama nods and leans close to the screen. "So, what did you decide?"

You take a deep breath, letting the air fill your lungs, and release it slowly. Before you can tell them, Mum says, "Good fer you, love."

"But," you sputter, "Mum...I didn't even tell you-"

"You don't have to, dear," she interrupts. "I can see the decision in your eyes. You're gonna join the task force." You hear the price, and fear, in her voice.

Beside her, Mama nods and tries to hide her emotions. "We're proud of whatever decision you make. And while I'm not happy with how much more dangerous this is, I think it's the right thing for you."

Dad is beaming, but you see the tears caught in his lashes. "Pretty girl, we love you so much! This is such an amazing opportunity for you. And if it feels right, if your omega feels safe, this might be the best thing for you."

next

[goldenhazelnut]

Chasing The Calm || Max Verstappen

summary: When a young, determined intern crosses paths with Formula 1 champion Max Verstappen, their connection defies expectations.

Your heart raced as you walked through the paddock. As an intern in the Red Bull communications team, being part of the Formula 1 world was a dream come true. At just 21 years old, you were the youngest on the team, always trying to prove you deserved to be there.

Max Verstappen, on the other hand, was your opposite. At 27, he was already a four-time world champion who seemed to have lived a thousand lives at Formula 1’s relentless pace. Your paths often crossed, but only in fleeting smiles or quick “thank yous” in passing. Until that night.

After another long workday, you were sitting in one of the common areas, reviewing some notes. The paddock was nearly deserted, save for the sound of approaching footsteps. When you looked up, Max stood there, watching you curiously.

“Do you always work this late?” he asked, his voice calm, marked by his distinct Dutch accent.

“Not always,” you replied, trying to maintain a professional demeanor. “Just making sure everything’s ready for tomorrow.”

He tilted his head slightly, studying you. “Always so dedicated. Shouldn’t you be out enjoying the night? You’re young; you’ve got the energy for it.”

You laughed softly, trying to hide your nervousness. “Maybe. But it looks like you’re still here too, so I could say the same about you.”

Max smiled, a genuine one. He pulled out the chair beside you and sat down—a move you didn’t expect. “Fair enough. I guess I’ve spent so much time here I’ve forgotten what a normal night feels like.”

A comfortable silence settled between you, a rarity amidst the chaos of paddock life. You could feel his gaze on you—not invasive, but thoughtful, like he was trying to piece you together.

“So,” he began, breaking the silence, “what brought you to Formula 1?”

“It’s been my dream for as long as I can remember,” you admitted, resting your chin on your hand. “I love the sport, the competition… and I wanted to prove to myself I could get here, even being younger than most.”

Max nodded, as though he understood more than he let on. “I get it. When I joined, I was 17. Everyone said I was too young, that I wasn’t ready. But I think that just made me want to work harder.”

Your eyes met his, and you realized that despite the differences in your age and experience, there was something you shared—a determination to prove yourselves.

“You’re different,” he said suddenly.

“How so?”

“You’re… calm. Most people who are confident talk a lot, try to prove they know everything. But you’re quiet. It’s… refreshing.”

Your throat went dry. You hadn’t expected him to say that, but something about his sincerity made you feel at ease.

“Well, maybe it’s because I’m still learning,” you said with a small smile. “And maybe because I think there’s more to gain from listening than talking.”

He let out a soft chuckle, low and genuine. “You know, I think you’re right.”

A Few Days Later

Your encounters with Max became more frequent. He always found a reason to talk to you—a quick “good luck” before a press conference or a casual “How’s it going?” during a break.

One evening, as the sun dipped low, painting the paddock in warm tones, Max called you over for a conversation. You stood together by the track, away from the buzz of activity.

“You know,” he began, leaning against a safety barrier, “I should probably tell you to stay away from me.”

You frowned, confused. “Why?”

“Because this world is messy. My life is messy. I’m not exactly the kind of guy who can offer you stability.”

You crossed your arms, trying to mask the sting of his words. “And what makes you think I want stability?”

He blinked, caught off guard by your response. “Most people do.”

“I’m not most people,” you said firmly, meeting his gaze.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “That’s what I’m afraid of. You’re different. You’re... honest, and grounded. And being around you makes me forget the chaos. But that’s dangerous—for you and for me.”

You stepped closer, your voice softer but unwavering. “Maybe I don’t mind a little danger. Maybe you shouldn’t decide what’s best for me.”

His eyes searched yours, conflicted but vulnerable in a way you hadn’t seen before. “You don’t know what you’re getting into.”

“Then let me find out,” you said, offering a small, reassuring smile.

For a moment, the world seemed to stand still. Max hesitated, then reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. His touch was gentle, his expression tender yet uncertain.

“You’re stubborn,” he murmured, a hint of amusement in his voice.

“Maybe,” you replied. “But so are you.”

He laughed softly, the tension easing slightly. “You’re going to make my life even more complicated, aren’t you?”

“Probably,” you teased. “But isn’t that what makes it worth it?”

Max shook his head, a mix of exasperation and admiration. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, here you are,” you pointed out with a smirk.

He didn’t reply right away, but the look in his eyes said everything. Slowly, he leaned in, his forehead resting against yours.

“Just promise me one thing,” he whispered.

“What’s that?”

“Don’t regret it.”

You smiled, your heart pounding but your voice steady. “I won’t. Will you?”

For the first time, Max didn’t have an answer. Instead, he kissed you, the world around you fading away as you both took the first step into something neither of you could predict but both of you craved.

[enderlovez]

can you write another kindergarten teacher!reader x spencer where he comes in as like a special guest to read to her students🥹 and then he stays to eat lunch with her

Story Time

Spencer Reid x Kindergarten Teacher Reader WORD COUNT: 1000+

Summary: Spencer comes and reads to your students for storytime.

Content Warning: Maybe some spelling errors, but otherwise nothing. I actually love writing kindergarten teacher reader x Spencer!!! It makes me feel all warm and happy inside

────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ──────

The buzz of the classroom feels electric today, like a thousand tiny bees flitting through the air. Your students can hardly stay in their seats, their excitement nearly bubbling over as you explain that you'll be having a very special guest joining you for storytime today.

Of course, they don't know who it is yet. That's the surprise.

"Miss Y/N, is it a prince?" asks Lily, her shiny brown eyes wide and hopeful.

"Or a pirate?" chimes in Jacob, swinging around an imaginary sword.

You smile and shake your head. "Not quite. But he is one of my favorite people, and I think you're all going to love him, too."

As if on cue, there's a light knock on the rainbow-painted door. Your stomach flips as you walk over to open it.

Standing there, with his ever-disheveled hair and a stack of children's books in his arms, is Spencer.

He's wearing one of his signature mismatched outfits that always sort of remind you of something an old man would wear—a brown cardigan over a cream colored shirt—and the way his eyes light up when he sees you makes your cheeks flush a little.

"Hi," he says softly, like you're the only two people in the room.

"Hi," you whisper back, before stepping aside to let him in.

The kids immediately erupt into whispers and giggles. Spencer shifts awkwardly under their gaze, but he smiles warmly as I introduce him.

"Everyone, this is Doctor Reid. He's a very smart friend of mine who knows a lot about books, so I thought he'd be the perfect person to read to us today!"

Spencer waves shyly. "Hi, everyone. You can call me Spencer if you want."

Lily raises her hand without hesitation. "Are you Miss Y/N's boyfriend? Are you married? Do you have any babies?"

Spencer's eyes widen, and you feel your face go hot—really, this is something you should have anticipated.

"Lily!" you laugh nervously, twiddling your thumbs. "That's not a question for storytime."

She shrugs, unapologetic. Spencer, bless him, just clears his throat as adjusts his grip on the books.

"I bought a few options," he says, holding them up like they're treasure. "We have The Very Hungry Caterpillar, Where the Wild Things Are, and The Day the Crayons Quit. Any favorites."

The room fills with an enthusiastic chorus of opinions, but Spencer handles it like a pro, tallying votes on the whiteboard until we have a winner: Where the Wild Things Are.

He settles into the big reading chair at the front of the room, his long legs awkwardly folded up beneath him, and adjusts his glasses on the bridge of his nose.

The kids gather on the carpet, leaning forward with rapt attention as he begins.

Spencer's voice is soft, each word carrying a rhythm that draws the kids—and you, despite the fact that you've already read this book countless times—into the story, though that might just be because you enjoy listening to his voice so much.

By the time he closes the book and sets it aside, the room erupts into cheers. "That was so cool!" Jacob shouts, jumping to his feet.

"Can you read another one?" Lily pleads, clasping her hands together and mustering up the best puppy eyes she can—she doesn't have to try very hard.

Five year olds. So easy to please.

Spencer glances at you, and you nod. "One more," you say. "Then it's lunchtime."

This time, he picks The Day the Crayons Quit, and the kids laugh hysterically at the sassy letters from the crayons.

Spencer even gets a short round of applause when he finished reading and closes the picture book, his cheeks pink as he smiles and thanks them.

"Okay, everyone," you announce, clapping your hands together. "Time to wash up for lunch!"

The kids scramble to line up at the sink, still chatting quietly with one another—partly about the stories, but mostly about how awesome Spencer is.

He stands by the reading chair, watching them with a mix of amusement and awe.

"You're a hit," you tease, stepping beside him.

"I think they like me more than you," he replies, a playful smile tugging at his lips.

"Don't get cocky," you say, nudging him gently.

As the kids settle at their tables with their lunches, you lead Spencer to your desk in the corner, where you've set up a couple of chairs. "So you're staying, right?" you ask, trying to sound casual.

"If you'll have me," he says, pulling out the chair across from yours.

Your desk is decorated with little figurines and gadgets, ranging from tiny animal toys blue-tacked down to the lid of a container, to a photo frame filled with pressed flowers, to a small collected of little painted rocks. It reminds Spencer a lot of Garcia's office. Colorful.

You hand him the sandwich you made for him earlier, and his eyebrows lift in surprise. "You didn't have to do that."

"I know," you say, ducking your head. "But I wanted to."

You eat quietly for a moment, the sound of the kids' laughter and chatter enough to fill the space around the both of you.

Spencer watches them with a small smile, and you can't help but admire the way he fits so seamlessly into your little world. Most people would get overwhelmed, being in a room with so many little children—and it just so happens that your boyfriend isn't one of those people.

How did you get so lucky?

"They're great," he says after a while.

"They are," you agree. "A handful, but great all the same."

He looks at you then, his gaze soft and searching. "I can see why you love this so much. And I can see why they love you so much."

Your breath catches, but before you can respond with something sappy that'll more than likely make you cry, Jacob bounds over to your desk.

"Miss Y/N, can Mister Spencer come back tomorrow?"

Spencer chuckles, glancing at me like he's looking for permission.

"We'll see," you say, ruffling Jacob's hair. "If he's not too busy saving the world, maybe he can visit again."

"Promise?" Jacob asks, directing the question at Spencer.

Spencer holds up his pinky, and Jacob eagerly hooks his own tiny pinky finger around it. "Promise," Spencer says.

As Jacob runs back to his table, Spencer leans toward you, his voice low and almost a little uncertain.

"When can we have one of our own?"

[little-jana]

"A Little Bit of Mischief" (1)

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x receptionist!reader

Genre: fluff

Warnings: playful teasing, flirting

Words: 1.4k

Summary: You flirt with the ever-serious Aaron Hotchner, teasing him until he finally drops his professional demeanor.

You're in a good mood, as usual. It's a Wednesday afternoon, the sun is shining through the office windows, and there's something about the quiet hum of the BAU that feels comforting. Even though you’ve just finished up a case, there’s always work to be done—papers to file, appointments to set up, that kind of thing. But you don’t mind. You love staying busy, and you love the people you work with.

But more than anything, you love teasing Aaron Hotchner.

It’s not that you go out of your way to make him uncomfortable. Well, maybe a little. He’s just so serious all the time, and you can’t help yourself. It’s like a game to you—seeing how far you can push him before he cracks. And honestly, he’s always so professional, so controlled, that you never expect him to respond in any way other than with the quiet politeness he reserves for everyone.

At least, that’s what you think.

“Hotch, do you need me to book you a meeting with the director?” you ask, leaning on his desk with a sweet smile plastered across your face. You know your voice comes out bubbly—it always does when you’re around him—but you don’t mind. You have a tendency to be a little more playful when he’s near.

He glances up from his paperwork, his brown eyes narrowing slightly as he looks you over. He always does that, and it makes your stomach do a little flip. It’s as if he’s trying to figure you out, analyzing you the same way he does with cases. It’s both flattering and endearing, and it makes your heart beat a little faster.

“No, I’m good, thanks,” he replies, but his voice is a little more distant than usual. It’s his way of staying professional, but you notice how his lips twitch—just barely, as if he’s holding back a smile.

“So,” you start again, leaning closer to his desk just a little, “I was thinking we could go grab coffee after work. You know, just the two of us. I promise not to steal your files this time.”

His eyes flick up at you again, a brief glimmer of something unreadable in them before he returns to his work. He doesn’t seem to be taking you seriously, as usual. But you’re not giving up that easily.

“You know, I don’t understand why you’re always so serious,” you continue, your voice soft and teasing as you try to get him to react. “You’re like... a walking, talking textbook of boring.”

The words slip out before you can stop yourself, but you’re not worried. You’ve said worse to him before. And every time, he’s given you that same exasperated but slightly amused look—like he’s trying to act unaffected, but the small twitch of his lips always gives him away.

His expression softens, though, and you see him letting his guard down just a little. “I’m serious about the job,” he says with a small smirk. But you can tell he’s holding back the full force of his smile.

“Well, you’re lucky I don’t mind serious men,” you say, leaning in a little closer, your voice softer. “You’re still pretty cute, even if you’re all about ‘business’ all the time.”

You see the immediate flash of something in his eyes then, something like surprise mixed with hesitation. You almost think he’s going to respond with a typical Hotch answer—something neutral, something that would keep you firmly in the “professional” zone. But instead, he looks at you for a long moment, his gaze searching your face as if trying to decipher your intentions.

“How’s your day been?” he asks suddenly, his voice quieter than usual, as though the question itself signals a subtle shift in the conversation.

You smile brightly. “Oh, you know, the usual. I’ve been keeping myself busy with all the paperwork—making sure you don’t get buried under it all.” You shrug, glancing down at your own stack of work. “But it’s been fun. I like helping out. Plus, I get to see all of you guys every day.”

Hotch’s gaze softens again, and for the first time, there’s a touch of warmth in his eyes that you’re not used to. “I appreciate it,” he says quietly. “You’re a big help around here.”

His words aren’t anything extraordinary, but they make your heart flutter in a way you didn’t expect. You hadn’t thought he’d notice how much you enjoyed being around, how much you appreciated the little things he did, like staying late to make sure everything was wrapped up, or the way he always double-checks the details.

“You know, you’re not so bad yourself,” you tease, the flirtatious energy flowing through your words without meaning to. “You should let me take you out for dinner sometime, Hotch. I think you could use a break from all the work.”

You’re not expecting him to say yes. After all, Hotch isn’t the kind of guy who jumps into social outings easily. But you can’t help yourself; you have to ask.

He glances at you again, his gaze softening even further, and this time, his lips do curl into a faint smile. It’s not much, but it’s enough to make your heart skip a beat.

“Maybe,” he says, and you almost think you see a twinkle of mischief in his eyes.

That’s enough for you. It’s the first time you’ve ever seen that kind of warmth from him, the first time he didn’t immediately deflect your teasing.

“You’re adorable when you smile like that,” you say before you can stop yourself, your voice softer, more sincere than you intended. The words are out before you can take them back, and your face immediately flushes with embarrassment.

But instead of retreating, Hotch’s gaze softens even more, and he doesn’t pull away. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, just sits there, watching you. And it’s in that moment that you realize—you’ve been teasing him for so long, but maybe there’s more there than you thought. Maybe, just maybe, he likes you too.

“Maybe dinner would be a good idea,” he says quietly, his voice almost a whisper now.

You beam, your heart racing. “I’ll hold you to that,” you reply, and this time, your flirtation is more playful than anything. “But don’t make me wait too long, okay?”

He chuckles softly, the sound warm and genuine. And for once, you realize that maybe this game you’ve been playing isn’t just a game. Maybe there’s something more to it after all.

[charmedimsure]

THE NEXT EPISODE || thanos

pairing: Thanos/Choi Su-bong x f!reader

summary: You and Su-bong reunite after his stay at rehab. No debt/no games AU.

word count: 3.2k

warnings: rehab, drinking, drugs, addiction, depression

A/N: i've been working on this for like two weeks and i still feel like i could work on it more. i love this mini series i made and i'm excited to see how other people like it :) if you find any mistakes no you didn't <3

Part 1: Wake Up Call

Today is the big day. The day Su-bong has been working towards for the past six months.

Today he gets out of rehab.

He originally tried to quit on his own, but after multiple relapses, he decided he needed help. Due to his multiple addictions and how long he's been addicted for, the doctors at the facility suggested a longer stay for him, to which he agreed.

Before he left, he gave you the keys to his apartment, putting you in charge of managing the place while he's away. You also promised to get rid of anything in his apartment that could potentially be abused.

Rehab had actually not been bad. It certainly wasn't easy, but Su-bong felt better about it knowing there were so many other people there going through the same thing as him. He had ended up making some really good friends there, friends that he was excited to see again once they all got out. A few of them had made plans to meet up at a coffee house soon, about a week after Su-bong is released.

The thing Su-bong has been looking forward to the most while in rehab is seeing you again. The only visitors that were allowed were family members, so he had to settle for just talking to you on the phone.

"Can I see you soon?" Su-bong asks into the phone.

"I have to work today, but I'm off tomorrow if you want to come by?" you say. "Oh, and I left something for you on your counter."

Su-bong smiles into the phone. "You didn't have to do that."

"Don't get too excited, it's not much," you laugh. "But I just wanted to give you something to congratulate you."

"I'll be happy with anything you give me," he says.

"Cheesy," you groan, making him laugh. A small gasp comes from Su-bong's phone. "Shoot, my boss just texted me I have to go in early. I'm sorry, I gotta go. Text me when you get home, okay?"

"All good," Su-bong says. "Yeah, I'll text you. Let me know when you get to the club and back home safe."

"I will," he can hear the smile in your voice. "I'll see you tomorrow."

<>

Su-bong walks into his apartment. A chill washes over him. It's been so long since he was here, and he's changed so much. He puts his things down, walking into his kitchen.

A feeling of dread fills him. Was six months enough? Is he really able to do this?

A glint catches his eye, and he sees a small chain sitting on his counter. Attached to it is a dog tag. He picks it up, examining it. When he notices a clasp on the side of the dog tag, he opens it, revealing a small note in your handwriting.

'I'm proud of you <3'

A comfortable warmth fills his body as he smiles at your note. He closes the tag, immediately putting the chain around his neck.

He looks around his place. It holds way too many memories of his time before rehab. Waking up with a headache so bad he's worried his head might implode, turning over to see some random girl in his bed who's name he can't remember. That's not how he wants to live anymore.

He takes a water bottle from the fridge, which you must have put in there for him, and sits on his couch, looking up listings for available apartments. Preferably one close to you.

<>

Su-bong feels his heart race as he stands in front of your apartment door. He's been waiting for this moment for six months. With a deep breath, he knocks on the door.

Footsteps are heard from the other side of the door. Something makes a loud bang and he hears you curse, making his lips twitch upwards.

The door opens and there you are. He swears you've only gotten more beautiful since he last saw you.

"Woah, I almost didn't recognize you," you smile.

He smiles, sheepishly scratching the back of his head. He hadn't dyed his hair since before rehab, leaving it at its natural dark brown. "Yeah, I've been getting that a lot."

"I like it," you say. "You look much more like Su-bong."

He feels his face heat up, muttering a shy 'thank you'.

You step to the side, opening the door wider. "Come in! I'll go grab a snack."

Su-bong walks into your apartment, a smile playing on his face at the familiar set up. You move to the kitchen and he sits on your couch. He chuckles at the new blanket laying next to him, clearly having been used recently.

He looks up as you walk back into the room, placing a bowl of pretzels and a bottle of blue Gatorade on the coffee table in front of him. You remembered.

He gestures toward the blanket. "That new?"

You put a pretzel in your mouth and smile at him, nodding enthusiastically. "My mom got it for me. You have to feel it, it's so soft." He chuckles as you cover your mouth with your hand, too excited to tell him about the blanket to wait until you've swallowed your food.

He reaches out to the blanket, eyes widening when his fingers graze the fabric. "Holy shit."

"Right?!" you laugh, picking up the blanket and sitting down. You toss it over both of your legs. You take a moment to study his face. "You look really good, Su-bong."

He feels himself blush, turning away in embarrassment. "Yeah, my pupils are finally the correct size."

You laugh at the comment. "Yes, that. But you also just look much healthier. Much happier."

He nods. "I feel happier. I thought I was happy all those nights at the club, drinking away my life. But now I know that wasn't real happiness." He looks at you, looking deep into your eyes. "This is real happiness."

Now it's your turn to look away, feeling heat rush to your face. "I'm glad. You deserve happiness."

He smiles.

"Even though you once tried to pay me to take off my shirt."

Su-bong cringes, bringing his hand to his face as you laugh. "Can you please stop bringing that up?"

You shake your head. "No way. This is the punishment you get for that. Me making fun of you. I think it's a fair exchange."

He laughs. "Fair enough."

You continue talking for the next hour or so, telling each other about everything and nothing. Su-bong's heart soars every time he is able to make you laugh. He's made music his entire life, but no song could ever compare to the sweet tune of your laughter.

"On Sunday I'm gonna meet up with a few friends from rehab at that new coffee place around the corner," he says. "Do you want to come?"

You shake your head. "Thank you for the invitation but I don't want to intrude."

"You wouldn't be intruding," he assures. "I, uh, talked about you a lot and they really want to meet you."

Your face heats up at his admission, nodding. "In that case, I'd love to go."

He smiles. "Good."

You put on a movie to watch, saying you saw one while he was away and couldn't wait to show it to him. Throughout the movie, Su-bong sneaks glances at you. He's wanted you ever since he first laid his eyes on you. You were the hot bartender with a fiery personality.

Now, though, as he watches you chew your lip in concentration, he sees just how amazing you truly are. You're the beautiful girl who changed his life for the better. The amazing girl who gave him a reason to become a better person. The kind girl who talked on the phone with him every day while he was in rehab.

You're his best friend. And he's deeply in love with you.

<>

Su-bong opens the door to the coffee house, letting you walk inside first before entering as well.

"Hey, Su-bong!" a voice yells, getting his attention. He smiles when he sees his friends, waving at them. He motions for you to follow him as you head over to the table.

"Hey guys," he greets, giving each of them a small hug. It feels nice to see them on the outside. They all accomplished the same thing, and they'll forever be close for doing it together.

He looks to you. "Oh right. This is Jung-su, Shin-il, and Ji-hae."

Each of them wave and smile at you as he says their names. Once he introduces you, they all seem to get a similar look on their faces.

"Oh, so you're the girl he keeps talking about," Shin-il smirks. Su-bong lightly smacks his arm, making the boy laugh.

"Shin-il, be quiet!" Ji-hae rolls her eyes. She turns to you. "He told us about how you helped him get sober. We're glad he had someone so supportive helping him."

You smile. "I just wanted to help any way I could. He's the one who ultimately chose to get help." You smile at him and he feels his heart melt. "And I'm glad he was able to make some great friends in there, from what he's told me."

"Aw, you talked about us?" Jung-su flashes Su-bong with puppy eyes, making the ladder roll his own.

"Plus, now he doesn't call me 'Señorita' anymore, so really I got something out of it too," you say.

The table bursts out in laughter and Su-bong hides his face behind his hands. "Maybe it was a mistake bringing you here, I didn't realize you were all going to gang up on me."

You laugh, rubbing his arm. "I'm just kidding. Come on, let's go get something to drink."

You move to stand but he puts a hand on your shoulder. "I got it. What do you want?"

You tell him your order, thanking him as he walks to the counter.

Ji-hae leans across the table to you. "He really likes you, you know," she smiles. "Talked about you all the time."

You smile. "He's a really great guy. I wish I could've talked to him sooner, maybe he would've gotten help sooner. He's my best friend now."

"You should go out with him," she says. "Based on how he talked about you, he'd treat you right."

You turn to look at Su-bong, smiling as he rocks back and forth on his feet while waiting in line.

"I do like him," you say, turning back to Ji-hae. "I just want to give him some time first. He just got out of rehab, I feel like he should have some time to figure out what he really wants and adjust to sobriety, if that makes sense."

"Totally," Jung-su says, nodding his head. "I've been out two months now and I still feel like this is all new."

"Just please be there for him," Shin-il asks.

You nod. "I'm not going anywhere."

On the other side of the coffee house, while waiting for your drinks, Su-bong feels a hand grasp his shoulder.

"Holy shit man," a familiar voice says behind him. "You dropped off the face of the earth!"

Su-bong turns to see the smiling face of Nam-gyu.

"Where have you been, dude?"

Su-bong opens his mouth to answer but is cut off when Nam-gyu continues.

"You know what, it doesn't matter." He pulls a small bag out of his jacket pocket. "I just got some new shit. It's fucking insane, man. You gotta try it."

He stares at the pills. This is the first time that drugs have been so accessible to him since before rehab. A cold sweat breaks out and his breath gets quicker. It would be so easy. All he'd have to do is pop one little pill.

He turns back to look at the table. You're sitting there, laughing with Jung-su. The sound flows to his ears and a soft smile graces his face. The sweat stops and his breathing goes back to normal.

He doesn't need pills anymore. He has you. And you make him so much happier than pills ever have or ever will.

He turns back to Nam-gyu, straightening his posture. "No, I don't do that stuff anymore."

Nam-gyu gives him a look. "Are you kidding, dude? You can't get this shit anywhere, and you're turning it down? What the fuck happened to you, Thanos?"

"It's Su-bong, actually," he says.

"No more Thanos!? What's going on?"

Su-bong opens his mouth to respond, but is beaten by another voice.

"Nam-gyu, leave him alone, please," you say, putting a hand on Su-bong's shoulder as you step beside him.

Nam-gyu looks between the two of you before a knowing smile spreads on his face.

"Oh, I see," he says. "So this is the guy you've been calling all the time." The barista calls out his name and he takes his cup. "Knew it was only a matter of time before you two got together, I should've bet on it." He turns, walking toward the door. "I'll see you at work!"

You wave to him as he leaves, turning to Su-bong. "Are you okay? He didn't give you anything, did he?"

He shakes his head. "He offered, but I said no. I was expecting him to be a lot less understanding."

"I've been talking to him the past few months at work, turns out he's not bad when he's not constantly sticking his nose up someone else's ass," you say, making Su-bong laugh. His name is called and you take the cups from the barista, thanking them before handing Su-bong's drink to him, taking his hand and leading him back to the table.

"Welcome back, Señorita," Shin-il smirks.

The table bursts out in laughter again and Su-bong stands from the table, waving goodbye to everyone. You grab his wrist before he can get too far, laughing along with him as he sits back down next to you.

<>

It's been about five months since Su-bong got out of rehab. He's been doing very good, resisting every time he feels even the slightest temptation.

He's gotten back into music and is working on his next album, which is going to be the first he's releasing that's not under the name "Thanos", instead rebranding as Choi Su-bong. You're of course his biggest supporter and he plays you all of his songs to get your opinion. You've even helped on a few songs, and he plans on crediting you as a co-writer.

Remembering what you told him nearly a year ago, he surprised you one day with your own guitar, taking the time to teach you how to play. You're still learning, but he loves everything you play, nearly as much as he loves your laugh whenever you play the wrong note.

You've been dancing around each other for the past few months, both aware of your feelings, but liking what you have going on between you for now. As time passes, though, Su-bong can feel himself getting closer to the edge, ready to take the leap.

One day you're both sitting in Su-bong's new apartment when he turns to you.

"Hey," Su-bong says. You look up from your phone at him. "I uh, I want to play something for you, if that's okay."

You smile, locking your phone and putting it face-down on the couch. "Yeah, I'd love that."

He stands up and reaches his hand out towards you. You take it, standing as he leads you to his piano. He sits on the bench, making room for you to sit beside him.

"I actually wrote this for you," he says, shyly looking at you. You smile at him, giving him a nod of encouragement. With a deep breath, he begins playing the notes before singing.

"I text a postcard sent to you Did it go through? Sending all my love to you You are the moonlight of my life every night Giving all my love to you."

You feel your eyes start to water as you listen to the words. His words reflect exactly how you feel, put in a way that makes it more beautiful than anything you could say to him.

You've heard him sing more ties than you can count. But sitting here next to him, listening as he pours his heart out to you, you don't think any song will ever compare.

"With every breath that I am worth Here on Earth I'm sending all my love to you So if you dare to second guess You can rest Assured that all my love's for you."

Su-bong puts his entire heart into the song. He had started writing it on the piano they had at the rehabilitation center. He had written a few songs while he was there, but this one was specifically inspired by you. The lyrics were from notes he would write down while talking to you, things that came to his head as your sweet voice drifted through the speaker of his phone.

"My beating heart belongs to you I walked for miles till I found you I'm here to honor you If I lose everything in the fire I'm sending all my love to you."

He stops playing, bringing his arms to his sides. He slowly looks up at you. "You've done so much for me. I don't think I can ever pay you back, but I'll spend the rest of my life trying if you'll let me."

A tear escapes your eye. You sniffle, nodding your head.

Su-bong reaches out to cup your cheek, wiping away the tear with his thumb. He looks down to your lips before looking back up to your eyes. "Can I kiss you?"

"Please."

He leans forward, closing his eyes as his lips make contact with yours. Su-bong has kissed girls before, more than he'd like to admit, but he feels like a teenager kissing their crush for the first time.

This is a moment nearly a year in the making. All of his longing for you, his adoration of you is put into the kiss.

He pulls back, regaining his breath as he looks over your face. Your kiss-swollen lips are just begging to be kissed again, but there's something that needs to be done first.

"I love you," he says. "I've loved you for a long time. You're the most amazing person I've ever met and there's nothing I want more than to be with you."

You smile at him, and he feels starstruck by how beautiful you are. "I love you too, Su-bong," you say. "I'm forever grateful that you showed me the real you that day in my apartment. Because I love the real you. So much."

Su-bong's face lights up in a smile, leaning forward to capture your lips again in an awkward kiss that makes you both laugh.

All his hard work is paying off. He is finally worthy of happiness. He is finally worthy of you. And he's going to spend every day making sure he stays worthy.

Song: Last Night on Earth by Green Day

Squid Game Tags: @thebiggestigurosimp @vvnbxz @lov3yy @miltzzy @l5byrinth @come-as-you-are-111 @starkeyszn @learninglinesintherainn @galactict3a @sawlover353 @jspidey5 @skywalker0809 @zannispppp @lianobody

Pt 2 tags: @dweeebazoid @apookalypse @jxsibat @fallout-girl219 @senorittaaaa

lmk if you want to be added to the taglist

[signanothername]

I– I need to ask.

HOW DO YOU DO THIS?? Like, share your thoughts with everyone. Because I've been working on my universe for about three years now, AND I STILL FEEL LIKE IT'S NOT READY. At the same time, I’m still afraid to share these things...

So. How do you do it?D:

Alright my answer will seem a bit harsh and/or cruel, but know that I mean it in the most kind, genuine, and gentle way possible, i just don’t know how to word it any other way

With that in mind

Anon, you’re never going to be ready to share it, and the fear will always linger, you will never be 100% confident of what you share

And that’s ok

Again, I know that i make it seem super easy, but I promise that I’m just as afraid to share my ideas as anyone else (I’m a perfectionist, and that also contributes to my fear to share things)

It’s just, I think of it this way

I have an idea, and I got two choices

Either

1- I keep overthinking it, and succumb to my worries and fears when it comes to my idea, and keep my ideas with me, never to see the light of day

Or

2- I acknowledge that I’m afraid, acknowledge that my idea might not be perfect or ready, acknowledge that there might be flaws that I will probably notice later and even feel stupid about it, and still share my ideas anyway regardless of the voice in my head telling me to “wait a little more”

I usually go for choice number 2

The art and writing process is complicated, it’s so not easy to write something and feel ready to share it, no matter how much time it takes, you will never ever feel truly and utterly ready to share it, you’ll have that worry in your mind that maybe it’s stupid, or incomplete, or inconsistent or whatever else

And guess what? Sometimes, the worried voice in your head is completely right

But what matters is how you tackle it

Even if you share an idea, remember that you can always change your mind about it, you can absolutely go back and say, I don’t like that idea anymore and so I’ll remove/ change/ replace it

Ideas are never set in stone, you change and grow as a person as so do your ideas, they grow and change with you as you learn more and more, and sometimes they don’t, they don’t change at all, and that’s ok too

You can’t keep worrying about whether the story or idea you’re working on is ready or complete, because all you’re going to do is just walk around in circles and end up never sharing anything at all

It’s ok to be worried, but you can’t let your worries control you, of course, it’s not easy to ignore your worries, but it’s better than feeling stuck with your ideas

I myself do deal with these worries a lot, most of the time i just tell my brain “shut up” and share my ideas anyway, other times my worries do get the best of me and i tend to keep some ideas to myself

But sharing your ideas is actually essential for you to actually be able to work on them and refine them, because people might start asking questions or giving really good feedback that you actually sit with yourself to think about

But what if they ask you a question and you don’t know the answer to it? That’s actually a good thing, it’ll make you sit down and think of how to connect the dots and answer it, not only does it mean you’re actually making progress on your story/ideas, but these kinda questions help you understand different perspectives and by that, you learn and grow in your writing

It’s ok to be worried and to keep ideas to yourself sometimes, but don’t let them fester, because believe me, eventually your passion is gonna burn out because you kept overthinking it to the point it became just a worry than something you enjoy doing

In fact, to give you a bit of motivation, imma actually share one of the ideas I never shared cause I was afraid it’ll be a bit stupid and out of character

And I’m very worried about sharing it, but fuck my worry I do what I want

Remember when I mentioned Dream received one gift from Nightmare, and never received anything after? My idea for that gift was an echo flower he gave Dream, and it echoes one thing “I love you”

There, I shared it ouuughh the stress of sharing it is killing me actually, but I mean I can keep worrying about it forever, or actually share it and refine it later if I wanted, I choose the latter

And your ideas are never going to be perfect anyway, but you can improve them with time, even after sharing them

That’s all I do really shzggz

So go out there and start sharing anon, fuck anxiety, you can do whatever you want, you’re unstoppable

[ladykailitha]

The Au Pair Boy Part 11

Hello! And welcome back. You'll be happy to note that this story is now marked complete. It will have a total of 15 chapters that will be released here every Thursday! So I hope you enjoy the ride.

In this we have Steve adjusting to Eddie being home and Hopper runs afoul a creature.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

~

Steve was adjusting to life with Eddie with some difficulty. Since Eddie did most of his work from home, Steve would turn a corner to do the laundry and be surprised to see someone else in the house.

“You had Chrissy and Wayne here for two weeks each,” Eddie huffed with a amusement the third time it happened. “How are you still surprised to see me?”

Steve’s face turned bright red with embarrassment. “I don’t know. I’d guess that it was because they tended to stay to the guest wing part of this massive house and you don’t.” Eddie raised an eyebrow. “Not that you have to or anything! Just an observation. I’ll get used to it! I promise!”

Eddie chuckled. “I’m not going to lie, having you here sometimes startles me too. I spent nearly a year with just me and the girls and now the house is teeming with people and it’s a bit of a shock to the system.”

“Oh!” Steve cried. “Yeah, I guess it would be. Do you like it better with people or without?”

Eddie smiled that sweet fond smile that melted Steve’s insides every time. But they were extra melty because that was the first time Steve had seen it aimed at him and he felt warm all over.

“Oh it’s definitely better with people,” he murmured. “Especially knowing that you hand picked everyone and would have never picked someone you didn’t trust. You also somehow managed to make the D&D room something other than a shrine to my past. People play in there now. And it’s all thanks to you.”

Steve blushed, ducking his head. “You’re welcome. I just did what you asked me to do, to find people I could work with and that’s what I did. I’m just glad it all worked out for you.”

Just then the girls came barreling through the hall like a herd of elephants.

Eddie and Steve shared a glance and then Steve dropped the laundry basket and they both took off after the girls. They chased them through the house until they were cornered in the kitchen.

“Joanie,” Eddie said darkly, “Janie, you were supposed to be napping.”

Both girls looked at each other then at Eddie and Steve who both had their hands on their hips and crumpled. Joan started with the water works first and then Janice.

Eddie and Steve shared an exasperated glance and eye roll, then Eddie picked up Joan and Steve picked up Janice.

“See how tired you are?” Steve murmured as he rocked Janice back and forth. “You’re crying because you need sleep but you’re fighting it.”

“Come on,” Eddie said gently. “I’ll read you a story for your nap so that you can go to sleep. But just this once. This is what Steve is here for. To take care of you while Daddy works, okay?”

Both girls nodded. But in the end Eddie hadn’t needed to read a story to them because halfway up the stairs, Joan fell asleep and at the top, Janice followed suit. Steve and Eddie carefully tucked them into bed, stuff animals piled up around them as fierce guardians. Eddie slipped out first and then Steve, turning the light off behind him.

As Eddie and Steve walked down the stairs trying to be as quiet as possible, they only were able to breathe once they had reached the bottom.

“I’d put them in their own rooms,” Eddie said with an exasperated huff, “if I didn’t know that they would be sneaking into each others rooms anyway.”

Steve licked his upper lip, nodding, “Oh yeah. But they’re also getting to the point where they’re starting to form their own thoughts and opinions and realizing that they don’t match up to their twin.”

Eddie pursed his lips. “Damned if you do and damned if you don’t.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Steve said, sighing. “Oh, I wanted to let you know that Dustin called, they’re moving the game to Saturday from their usual Thursdays, Lucas is trying out for the basketball team and they’re all going out to support him.”

“I’ll be sure to let the guys know,” Eddie said. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. It’s not like we’re partying or going out drinking on the weekend anymore.”

“God,” Steve said shaking his head. “I remember my frat boys days and it is not something I care to repeat.”

“When did you go to school?” Eddie asked, “I thought it was the circus and nannying?”

“There was about two years where I decided to get an associate’s degree in early child development,” Steve said with a shrug, “and applying at my dad’s former fraternity helped pay for the education.”

“Wow.”

He shook his head. “I was also nannying for a couple where they only needed me on the week days to make sure someone was home and the kid fed before they got off work.”

“Was that the weird taxidermists?” Eddie asked with a grin.

“That would be them,” Steve replied with his own answering grin. “It got me through college and gave me free weekends to blow my liver out.”

“God,” Eddie said, flopping on the sofa, “I remember those days. Before I met and married Ethan.”

“How did you two meet?” Steve asked, sitting next to Eddie.

“Some award show,” Eddie said, rubbing his eyebrow. “Not the Grammy’s, I’d remember that. Teen Choice Awards or the VMAs. Something like that where it was a mix of models, movie stars, and musicians. And he was the most beautiful thing I’d ever laid my eyes on. He had sea green eyes, coal black hair and a single dimple in his left cheek. I wanted. And the bastard made me chase him. And I did. I think that should have been my first sign he didn’t care for me like I did for him.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve said scooting closer to him. He took his hand into his and rubbed his thumb back and forth. “I’m sure there were too many signs to count but because he played happy to the hilt you believed it, because you were happy.”

Eddie scoffed. “Sounds like you’re talking from experience there. Any skeletons in the closet you keep your exes?”

“Loads,” Steve said with a snort. “I don’t date much because usually I’m up to my eyeballs in kiddos, but there have been some absolute chunkers of walking red flags in there. Men and women both. They all seemed to wander in search of other people some times breaking up with me first, but not always. But the unending refrain of why never changed. I was too much... of everything I guess.”

Eddie covered Steve’s hand with his other hand. “I don’t think there is anything you could do that would make me think that of you.”

Steve smiled back. “That’s kind of you.”

The back door bang open and there was a lot of swearing, forcing the two men to jump out of their skins, but somehow not apart.

“Those God damned critters!” Hopper cursed. “When I get my hands on them, I’ll skin them alive!”

Steve and Eddie shared a glance before they both got to their feet and followed the sound of cursing to where the house kept their garbage bins on the days it wasn’t out on the curb. Two of the three cans had been tipped over and riffled through. Hopper, the groundskeeper was standing over top of them with his hand on his hips glaring down at the mess.

“Oooh,” Eddie hissed. “What happened here, chief?”

Hopper looked up at them in confusion as if he had forgotten the house populated at all. He blinked a moment. “I didn’t wake the girls did I?”

Steve shook his head. “It would take a sonic boom going off near their heads to wake them once they’ve actually fallen asleep.”

Eddie chuckled, “They’re like their dad that way.”

Hopper breathed out a sigh of relief. “I was worried I had woken up the littles. As to what happened, raccoons is what happened. They get into the trash and just fuck it up.”

“How do you know it’s raccoons?” Steve asked cocking his head to the side. “Couldn’t it have just been someone messing around or even vagrants?”

Jim rubbed his chin. “Could be, but I used to do security on one of the neighborhood houses.” he said wearily, “and they were having raccoon problems. They put locks on the garbage bins and that was that. I’d suggest you do the same.”

Steve nodded. “And if it’s the other two, the lock would fix both problems as well.”

“Eehhh...” Eddie said with a wince. “If my cleaners were anything other than a single mom and her fifteen year old daughter, then I’d agree with the lock and move on. But aren’t there other things we can try first, like those bear proof bins at Yellowstone or whatever?”

“You’ve been to Yellowstone?” Steve asked tilting his head to the side. “I wouldn’t have thought you were the outdoorsy type.”

“Yup!” Eddie said with a bright smile, rocking back on his heels. “Wayne and I used to travel to all the national parks before I had the girls. We plan are starting back up next year or the one after now that they aren’t babes in arms anymore.”

“I’ll look into get some,” Hopper said clearing his throat so their attention was back at the matter at hand. “See if I can find some approved by the county. I’ve got a friend who’s a wildlife rescuer. Maybe he can loan me some traps so we get the critter some place safer.”

Eddie nodded. “Thank you. I’m sure the girls would appreciate knowing that the animal isn’t going to be harmed.”

Hopper got a twisted sort of smile. “Had a little girl myself once, I know how tenderhearted they can be.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Steve murmured, noting the past tense of that statement.

Hopper cocked his head and then shook it ruefully. “Pastor says she’s in better place, ain’t sure if I believe that anymore.”

“I hear that,” Eddie said, “I felt the same way when my mom died. Everyone was telling eight year old me that she was in a better place. When I thought the best place she could be was with me.”

Hopper nodded. “I get to it. I didn’t mean to startle you. Have a good day.” Then he wandered off to find garbage bags to clean up the mess.

“Grumpy, old man,” Eddie said fondly. “He’s good at his job though. How did you entice him away from his other job?”

Steve grinned. “I told him that he could live on the property rent free and be left alone for the most part.”

Eddie threw back is head and laughed. “That would do it all right. And it’s not like I don’t get wanting to be left the fuck alone. He does his job and his does it well. Ten of ten, no complaints from me.”

“I really should get back to doing the laundry,” Steve said jutting his thumb behind him to inside the house.”

Eddie checked his watch. “And I’ve got a Zoom meeting with some weirdo nu metal band who wants me to produce their album. Lord save me from Nu Metal!”

Steve just shook his head and the two of them went inside. Maybe living with Eddie wasn’t as hard as he thought it was.

~

Tag List: ONE SLOT OPEN!!

1- @itsall-taken @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @tartarusknight @gregre369

2- ​@a-little-unsteddie @cryptid-system @maya-custodios-dionach @yesdangerpls @goodolefashionedloverboi

3- @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch

4- @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @ollieolive @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1

5- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

6- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

7- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

8- @sadisticaltarts @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @dolphincliffs @steddie-as-they-go @steddieislife

9- @kultiras @morallyundefined @themoonagainstmers @fearieshadow @blondie1006

10- @thesecondfate @wheneverfeasible @depressed-freak13 @genderless-spoon

[starredblood]

NOWHERE GIRL

PART FOUR

kang sae-byeok x fem!reader

synopsis: after facing an intense altercation, it leads you to another one of sae-byeok’s interrogation.

wc. 1.8k

warnings: homophobia, acts of violence, smoking, angst

(nowhere girl masterlist)

The sun was right above your head, scorching it. The brightness of the sun blinds your vision as you make your way to the dining hall. Although everyone around you couldn’t stop talking about how hot the weather is today, your mind couldn’t stop thinking about your brief encounter with Sae-byeok two nights ago.

You kept replaying your time with her at the convenience store. It was an uneventful experience funnily enough; you two sat down in front of the store window quietly eating your food. It seems like there is nothing to analyze about this exchange, but to you, you liked it because of the sheer tranquility. No talking which meant no bickering, you both just sat down sharing the serenity that comes with midnight. You haven’t felt that much peace this past month. A part of you hopes to get that feeling again soon.

Just as you turn a corner into the alleyway you feel yourself bump into a person twice your size.

“Sorry.” you quickly apologize to whoever you collided into and try to usher around them only for them to block you with their body. Eyebrows furrowed, you peer up to see who’s preventing you from walking away.

The guy who is blocking you is tall and buff, freshly buzzed cut, tattoos littering around both his forearms and a cigarette between his teeth.

“You’re Yoon’s friend, right?” he asks, his voice exuding mockery. Two of his friends appear behind him like a couple of bodyguards. You scowl but your mouth refuses to open to talk.

“Yoon told me she let you sleep over at her dorm because—I don’t know you got kicked out of the house or something? Do you mind telling me and my friends why that is, hm?”

“You know the answer to that. Don’t mock me.” you whisper, voice trembling. Your little act of bravery isn’t working.

“Don’t talk to me like that, you fucking pervert.” he sneers. “You came up with that bullshit excuse of getting thrown out by your parent’s house so you can watch Yoon and her roommates change.”

“What?” you gape.

“That’s the problem with people like you…Well, I can’t in good conscience let you go around harassing women for your sick pleasure. Can’t I?” he looks at his friends who grunt in approval.

“Fuck you I never did any of that shit!”

You try walking backwards to escape the situation only to have the guy grip on your arm and squeezing it tightly. The grip he had on you was so tight you were beginning to feel afraid that he might actually rip your arm off of your body. Tears brim from the corner of your eyes and you begin to cry out for help.

“Stop acting so innocent now. You know what you did—and we are the only ones who can fight this injustice your inflicting upon people.”

“Let me go!” you cry, basically plead. “I never did anything you said. P—Please.”

Everything around you suddenly turned white and when you got your field of vision back to normal suddenly you were on the floor. Realization quickly crept up—you just got punched by the main guy, hard. As his friends roar with laughter, he uses one hand to pull you back up by your collar.

“I don’t like liars.” he tuts and with his free hand he grabs the cigarette between his teeth. “I don’t have anywhere to light off this cigarette.”

“Really?” one of his friends speak up, faking an act of innocence. “You got something right here.” he points at you.

They all begin to laugh again while you’re still squirming and hyperventilating. Your vision becomes blurry as you whip your head around hoping that a bystander notices you are in danger and come to rescue you but you see no one. The only thing you can do is think quickly or this situation will turn out even uglier.

You take a deep breath and look in the direction of the three guys, past their shoulders. “Officer right over here!” you shout to no one in the distance.

The guys all whip their heads behind them in fright, thinking they just got caught. That’s when you use your free hand to snatch the cigarette from the main guy and press the burning end of the cigarette on the hand that’s gripping yours. Instead of letting go though, the guy yelps and trips on air causing you both to collapse. You quickly spit in his face, making him flinch back and shout curses at you. He was cursing so loudly that his own spit struck your face.

You manage to wiggle your way out of his grasp. As you crawl away from him, you grab the pack of cigarettes that fell from his pockets then absolutely book it.

Run, run, run is all your mind is thinking. Run, run, run and don’t look back for a second.

✿・・───・・✦・・───・・✿

Sae-byeok thought it was nice of her to spend her only free time to walk to the convenience store with you the other night. After that quiet excursion, she expected you to start coming back to the apartment at a reasonable time.

But no one, not Sae-byeok, not Cheol, or even Ji-yeong has seen nor heard from you today.

Before Ji-yeong pointed fingers at Sae-byeok again she hurriedly explained that she actually settled things down with you, which was a half-lie half-truth situation. Of course, she didn’t buy it. In order to prove herself, Sae-byeok joined Ji-yeong who sat outside the apartment to wait for you. But it was almost one in the morning and Ji-yeong had work in the morning so she dialed your phone one last time, if you didn’t answer she’d go back to the apartment and report you as missing the next night. However, Sae-byeok decided to wait a little longer seeing as she doesn’t have to do anything but drop off Cheol at school tomorrow.

Thirty minutes later, Sae-byeok watches a shadowy figure walk in the direction of the apartment building. She holds her breath, anticipating it was you. When the person got closer she saw the familiar portfolio tote and laptop, that’s when she knew.

Sae-byeok’s face morphs into confusion when notices how you were stumbling, like it was hard for you to walk.

“Are you alright?” she asks. You just kept trudging until you made it to the staircases where you inevitably sat down. Slowly, Sae-byeok makes her way towards you. Something was off she could sense it.

“Yeah.” you say barley above whisper. But she isn’t buying it. She sits beside you, trying to look at your face but you look the other way before she can notice something. “What’re you doing?”

“Are you sick or something?”

“No, it’s just—hey!”

Sae-byeok pushes strands of hair back and caught the purple shiner imprinted on your cheek. You gasp and clumsily cover yourself again.

“Shit.” she says breathily. “What happened?”

You hug your chest and stare down at your knees in shame. Sae-byeok of all people shouldn’t have seen you like this. Now there’s no way around this.

“Some guys from my school cornered me in the alleyway.” you reply weakly.

“Why?”

“Long story.”

Sae-byeok doesn’t pry any further. You didn’t tell her some bullshit excuse like slipping and hitting a table. You actually sounded…truthful?

Besides, she can sense you’re still in pain and talking about the reason why you’re in pain isn’t going to help you. So, she rises to sprint back to the apartment. You wonder if she’ll come back with Ji-yeong so they can get an answer out of you. Instead, she comes back with an ice pack, two pain killers pills, and a bottle of water and quietly passes it off to you.

“Thanks.” you mumble and swallow the pain killers while pressing the ice pack on your cheek, wincing. You both sit in silence like this for a minute, that’s when you start to feel your chest grow heavy. “…Is the bruise that bad?”

Your vulnerability and pleading made Sae-byeok’s heart sink. She won’t admit it—but something about how fragile you sounded reminded her of a younger Sae-byeok, back when she first came to South Korea.

“Yeah.”

Sae-byeok doesn’t approve of your attire. Only because even though it’s spring time, the night breeze is still cool enough to make someone shiver. You were currently wearing a green frilly skirt that sat above your knees paired with an oversized graphic shirt. The scrape on your knee was still dry with blood, you kept looking at it and tried pulling your skirt to cover it, it was obvious you weren’t comfortable.

“Where are you going?” Sae-byeok asks when you got back up and started walking away.

“I don’t wish to bother you so I’ll just be at the twenty four hour cafe that’s a few blocks away.”

Sae-byeok doesn’t get you. She feels like she’s about to go mad.

“Hey, what’s your deal?” Sae-byeok asks. You pause walking and spin on your heels to look at her. “Could you quit being reckless?”

You don’t understand her. Sae-byeok isn’t obligated to look after you. You actually feel quite bad for making her stay up this late.

“I’m not—I don’t think I am.” you murmur and lower the ice pack cooling your bruised cheek.

“You are.” she says bluntly. “You’ve been acting suspicious from the start, you keep running away and now all of a sudden you came with bruises and now that I’ve seen them you try to run away again?”

That’s the most you heard her speak. You don’t know if you should feel honored or embarrassed.

Sae-byeok stands up, her guards are up you just know it. Her posture straightens and her dark sharp eyes bore right into your skull like she’s trying to get into your head. Your breath hitches so you take a few steps backwards.

“I’m trying not to disturb you more than I already have these past few days. I feel like I’m breaking everything I touch so...” you trail off. Sae-byeok remains immovable.

Apart from the suspicious bruising littering your body, it hits Sae-byeok that she has nothing on you. She can’t risk living dangerously anymore now that she has Cheol under her care, but could you really threaten their way of living?

“You’re limping.”

“I should be fine these are my comfiest sneakers.” you say. “I’ll be back in an hour. I promise.”

Sae-byeok rolls her eyes. “I have to come with you now.” she says like it is the most obvious option. “Or Ji-yeong will blame me again.”

You have a feeling that she’s hard headed when it comes to decision making. So silently, you let her trail behind you as you make your ways towards the cafe in the brisk of midnight.

🏷️: @monroesturnns @knfthxv @jumpedthenfell-13 @peelover25 @karli6

[hivemuthur]

Eee sorry about the vague request lol. I'm thinking maybe reader is unknowingly giving someone else a lil too much attention at a house party or something like that and Vik gets jealous and pouty about it and reader makes it up to him 👀👀

Clearly im not great at wording requests lol, I hope this makes sense

<3

Hi! I love you, so after I've written the first part of smut for this, I went to pray to the smut fairy and she gave me more smut :v @rennethen we thank you, we bow to you. And yes, there is no other point to this story than smut, because we had a lot of emotional stuff happening on this blog in the last couple of days :')

Eat Me

viktorxfemale!reader explicit! Viktor is jealous, therefore: smut, also dom!Viktor

word count: 3,3K

—

“Yes, I suppose you could say that,” you laughed sheepishly at—what was his name again? Mark? Maurice? Never mind, you politely laughed at his joke. Somewhere in the middle of this conversation, you had felt Viktor’s hand slip off the small of your back as he walked away to have a chat with Jayce. You could swear you heard a sigh accompanying the action, but the number of people talking at you simultaneously was too great to stir your mind to focus on one thing.

You looked around the room; the party had visibly dispersed into small groups— a few people splayed on the floor, talking in hushed voices; a smoking gang squished on the small balcony; a not-very-promising-looking queue to the bathroom; very loud voices coming from the kitchen, where some groundbreaking conversations were definitely taking place. Exactly opposite you and Mark—or Maurice—Viktor stood leaning on the doorframe, a glass hanging limply from his hand. He seemed very determined not to glance in your direction, no matter how many smiles you tried to send him.

You remained unalarmed until it was Mark’s—or Maurice’s—hand travelling to the small of your back, his mouth closing in on your ear to whisper, “So… can I get your number?”

At that point, Viktor scoffed and retreated into the corridor, out of your sight. You shifted uncomfortably, sliding yourself away from the intruder’s touch, and squeaked, “Eh, sorry, I don’t think… I don’t think my boyfriend would be happy about it, you know?”

Mark—or Maurice—raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, saying, “Forgive me, I didn’t know. Enjoy the party.” He patted you on the shoulder, his touch immediately shifting from seductive to friendly, his eyes moving from your cleavage to your face, and began snaking deeper into the room, leaving you alone and a little stunned by the windowsill. Huh, that obvious.

You downed your drink and left the glass behind, ready to find the lost boyfriend. You searched Jayce’s cramped apartment room by room, people trying to pull you in for a drink occasionally slowing your progress. Jayce, already moderately drunk and flushed from all the hands invading his personal space, pointed you toward his study. The door was ajar, and a faint glimmer of light was coming from inside.

“Hello?” You peeked your head through the door, only to see Viktor slumped behind Jayce’s desk, engrossed in a book. He didn’t look up at you and only threw you a dry, “Hello,” in return.

“Tired of the crowd, hmm?” you hummed after slipping inside and leaning over the desk opposite him. Your fingers tapped on the wood, awaiting a reply, only to be given the cold shoulder in the form of a quiet, dismissive hum. “Well, do you want to go home?” you tried again, inching your fingers to sneak under his sleeves, and Viktor shuddered.

“Home? No, I am quite content where I am. Also—” he paused as his eyes landed on your hands before retreating further into the chair to avoid your touch. “You seemed quite content with where you were as well,” he retorted, flipping to the next page.

“I’m not sure I quite follow?” You gave him a puzzled look, hoping he saw at least a glimpse of it from the corner of his eye. “Viktor?” you asked, splaying yourself all the way across the desk to pluck the book from his hands. “Why are you not looking at me?”

He sighed, his hands frozen in the air exactly where the book had been a second ago, and finally did look at you, at which point you started to wish he hadn’t.

“You were in quite stimulating company, no? Has Gregory abandoned you that you decided to pay me a visit?” Ah, yes, Gregory, not Mark or Maurice. He gave you a cold stare and an unforgiving smirk, and you choked on a snort.

“Excuse me? Viktor, are you being jealous?” You were now both leaning over the desk, playing a game of stares. Viktor blinked first but made it look like he had won.

“From where I was standing—and I will add that it was many different angles I got to observe—he was quite ready to eat you all right up,” he cocked his head to the side and left you to deal with the statement.

“Eat me? We were just talking,” you said, pointing your finger between the two of you to accentuate that, up until some point, Viktor had also been a part of the conversation. Realising the new round of the staring game had just begun, you relented, “Still—that’s completely irrelevant, as the only person I would wish to eat me is you.”

“That’s very unfortunate then, given that I seem to have lost my appetite.” Viktor took the opening and squeezed it dry. He picked up the book, opened it to a random page, and pretended to sink back into reading.

You straightened, taken aback by this... ridiculous display of mistrust. A smile played under your nose as you circled around the desk, turned the chair to make Viktor face you, and leaned in to touch his mouth with yours. “Are you sure I can’t even interest you in a snack?” you murmured against his lips, placing a lingering kiss there.

Viktor didn’t move, and soon you felt the handle of his cane poking at your stomach, beckoning you away. You shot him a questioning look and moved the cane aside with your hand, only for it to return to where it was, his eyes still fixed on the book. “I said, I am not hungry,” he said, his tone feigning exhaustion.

“Really? Are you telling me you would rather read—” you paused to take the book away and glance at the cover, “Jayce’s journal, rather than quit this pointless display of sulk and spend some time with me?” You held it expectantly in your hand, bemused.

“Yes. And give it back now.” He leaned forward, his hand reaching for the tome, only for you to swing it behind your back and move your body so your face met his.

“What will I get in return?” you asked sweetly, your breath ghosting his cheek. But Viktor wouldn’t give in. He shifted away, gluing his spine to the chair’s backrest.

“How about freedom to roam the party as you please, with whomever you please? Ah, right, apologies—it seems you already took that opportunity,” he mused, his tone almost annoyed as he kept his hand extended, expecting the stolen good to be returned.

“Viktor—” you scolded, growing more and more impatient. The book dropped to the desk with a thump, and before Viktor could reach for it, you straddled his lap, ignoring all the huffs of protest and palms trying to push you away. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed your face to his, whispering into his ear, your voice needy and keen, “What I want is my man to stop sulking. I can apologize, if you let me.”

Viktor hesitated until his hands rested on your hips, the rest of him still frozen in place. “I’m listening,” he muttered, causing a satisfied smirk to bloom on your lips.

You took the cue and slid your palms flat onto his chest, tugging at his collar. “Well, how would you like your apology to be served, mister?” You licked at the seam of his mouth and sucked on the crown of his upper lip. Viktor allowed it but still wouldn’t engage much, keeping his façade of a man who was hurt. Your tongue travelled down to his jaw, then up to the pulse point below his ear. Finally, you were rewarded with a shudder and a sigh. “Hmm, that seems to be working, no?”

“I’d say your little stunt requires some more remorse to be shown for me to forgive you entirely, my girl,” he murmured, his hands squeezing your hips in tandem with a grunt coming out of his mouth.

“Remorse, huh? I might know one universal way to repent,” you said, sliding off him to the floor, your knees resting on the carpet between his feet, your fingers already tugging at the buckle of his belt. “I’ve heard begging on one’s knees can work wonders.”

He uttered a quiet fuck along with your name, eyes fixed on yours, as you beckoned him to lift his hips, allowing you to slide his pants down his legs. His thumb brushed on your lower lip as he gave you a thoughtful look. “Show me. How sorry you are.”

You smiled and propped your hands on his hips, as you leaned in to tease him. His cock was still soft, twitching slightly under your breath. You began to place lingering kisses across his length, all the way from his balls to the tip, not moving it from the crease of his hip where it rested. Then, you flipped it to the other side with your nose and proceeded to do the same, from the top to bottom, watching it harden after each peck.

Viktor’s breath hitched, his fingers curling into your hair, as he pressed his hips into your face and rasped, “I will have to see some more initiative if you want me to believe you.”

You immediately responded with opening your mouth and letting him drag his half-hard length on it, his cock now splayed between your mouth, side of your nose, the tip resting somewhere around your eyebrow, smearing your own spit all over your face. Viktor’s brows pinched together, his lips parted into a toothy smile as he sat back down. “Good,” was the only praise you got so far, and you felt yourself aching for an addition of girl next to it.

Your kisses deepened, more passionate and lingering on the base, your tongue reaching down to his perineum, releasing a startled chuckle somewhere from the depth of his chest. You cocked your head, taking the side of his cock between your lips and started dragging it leisurely up and down, pausing to tease a sensitive spot below the head with the tip of your tongue.

Viktor remained still, his hand resting tangled into your hair, the other gripping the arm rest tightly as his eyes followed your every movement. You glanced up to meet his gaze—blown pupils, cheeks already flushed, lips shining from constant licking. Pleased with the view, you took him in your hand and patted the head of his cock on your flattened tongue, baring your teeth in a smile when his eyes rolled back, and he gave you a quiet ah sound as a reward.

“I feel like you are enjoying it far too much for a proper atonement,” he smirked. Before you could respond, he gripped your hair tighter, motioning your head to rest on his lap, as he slid himself inside your mouth. You groaned against him, grabbing his forearm and he only tsk-ed at you. “Bad girl. Tongue out, breathe through your nose,” he commanded, and you immediately obliged.

He fucked your throat steadily, retreating right before you were about to gag, soft praises falling from his lips. He watched himself appearing and disappearing between your lips and the hand that was previously whitening at the armrest travelled to cup your face and caress your cheek. You closed your eyes at the touch and let the drool roll out of your mouth onto his thigh, your breath heavy through your nose as you tried to even out its rhythm with the one of his thrusts.

He retreated to rub himself all over your face, smearing your makeup in the process. “So pretty like this,” he cooed, stroking your hair. “Are you sorry?”

You nodded, looking at him from under glued eyelashes. And Viktor looked so in love you couldn’t help a smile forcing itself onto your lips.

“Let’s apologize some more, are you ready?” he asked hoarsely, already lining himself against your mouth. Wordlessly, you opened, splaying your tongue out, coating your teeth with your lips to avoid any accidental scratches. He pushed himself deeper, tickling your uvula, while plugging your nose with his fingers and holding you in position.

“Are you sorry?” He leaned in to whisper into your ear, and you nodded, as much as you could. Obediently, you stayed for as long as your breath allowed you to, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes, before patting his thigh three times, and Viktor released you with a loud groan, spit glistening on his length.

“Good girl,” he breathed, and you felt something perking up inside you as you reached back out for him to suck on his head. He leaned in the chair, granting a few languid rolls of his hips into your mouth, whispering quiet praises when you gagged yourself on his cock. Undying affection seeping from his eyes, from his touch, pumped air into your lungs, when your nose couldn’t.

“Will you be a good girl and eat me up?” he asked, feeling the lance of lust twisting his guts, his movements speeding up, his breath hitching and you mumbled something sounding like a yes against his thrusts.

His body curled in, hands cupping your face, thumbs digging into your cheeks, wiping your tears away. You felt him hitting the back of your throat a couple of times, drool leaking out with each movement in and out, before his stomach tensed up and he coated the inside of your mouth with his cum, distantly whispering “Yes, yes, good girl.”

You swallowed the salt of him, not letting him out, making sure to lick down every last drop. Viktor shuddered, suddenly overstimulated, and gently pulled you up to sit back on his lap. The thin layer of your knickers so wet it almost disappeared as your cunt pressed on his softening cock. He licked his thumb to clean the smears of mascara cascading down your cheeks and murmured, “You did very well. I forgive you,” before kissing you on the mouth lovingly.

A giggle forced itself out of you, as you wrapped your arms around him and nuzzled your face into his neck. “Were you really so upset?” You asked quietly, tracing your fingers up and down his chest.

“Of course not,” he chuckled, massaging the nape of your neck. “I wanted to see how willing you would be to apologize though.”

“You are such a bastard,” you smacked his chest and bit his neck, making him wiggle and wince underneath you. “Now you have to apologize to me.”

“If you accept apologies delivered while laying on my stomach, I am willing,” he stated with a shit-eating grin. His expression softened, when he asked, “How are you feeling?”

“Well, tricked!” you exclaimed, narrowing your eyes at him. “I’m alright. Pleasantly full, I might add,” you added with a smirk and placed a peck on his lips. “You?”

“Eh, quite alright myself. Pleasantly devoured, though slightly hungry,” he mused, nipping at your lip, before deepening the kiss. You felt breathless again, his hands sneaking under your shirt, when you mustered some strength to pull away and breathe into his mouth, “I might have something to eat for you when we get home.”

“Or—” Viktor cocked his head, eyeing your knees with a knowing smile.

“Or… what?” You arched your brow, knowing exactly where this was going. Viktor licked his lips.

“What if I am too hungry to wait? Would you accept my apology now?” He asked and his smirk deepened as he tapped your hip three times signalling you to stand up. “And maybe lock the door? For a good measure. Unless, of course, it was a part of your little plan.” His eyes feigned innocence as he played idly with the hem of your skirt, and you could feel your face flush red. Of course, the door was still ajar.

“R-right,” you stuttered sheepishly and went to lock it, your legs wonky. You almost skipped coming back to where Viktor’s finger was pointing on the desk. He let you in between him on a chair and the edge of the wood and pushed his palms flat underneath your skirt to yank your knickers down to your ankles. You shuddered at the sensation of the material ungluing itself from you.

“Up,” he commanded and once you were seated, he leaned down to pick up your underwear, sniff it obscenely to finally put it in his pocket. Your eyes were so transfixed on the action, that the touch of his hands under your knees startled you, as he scooted the chair closer to the desk and hooked them over his shoulders.

And then he paused, eyes staring at your weeping cunt, his breaths deep and steady as he inhaled your scent. “To think you would let this waste and make me wait until we get home deserves a punishment in itself, I might say,” he murmured and the hot air coming from his mouth fanned your skin. His flat palm travelled up from your navel to your stomach, pressing you to lay down.

He didn’t wait for your spine to meet the desk fully, so when he dived in, the back of your head hit the wood with a quiet thump. His tongue stroke a rapid lick along your seam before coming to your clit with a chuckled hum of approval. A very vocal moan pushed itself past your mouth and you were grateful to your past self for closing that door. Soon your voice pitched higher as you breathed an incomprehensive, “Ah, Viktor,” while trying to bring your hips closer to his face, but his grip on you rendered it utterly impossible. His licks, fast and precise, caused your thighs to shake on his shoulders.

His hand slid from pressing on your stomach down to your navel, his thumb brushing your clit, when he asked hoarsely, “And what do we say to a Gregory, next time we meet him, hm?”

Completely confused and frustrated at the sudden change you managed to rasp, “Who?” and Viktor chuckled warmly, straight into you. “Good girl.”

His tongue slid down to your entrance, giving you shallow thrusts, while his thumb rubbed even circles on your clit, keeping the previous pace. Another thump of your head, fingers whitening at the edge of the desk as you tried desperately to move underneath him.

He began to deepen his movements, pressing his face hungrily into your cunt. Feeling your walls closing down on his tongue and mouth, his thumb picked up the pace. And you felt it so strongly, the orgasm wrenched out of you, built up by the last hour of apologizing on your knees. You felt it down to your toes, your heels digging into Viktor’s ribs as he hummed into you, drinking you all up, and keeping your thighs hooked with his arms. Only when you patted his shoulders blindly, he released you, placing one last kiss on your pubic bone.

You pressed the heels of your palms into your eyes, exhaling shakily, your chest heaving. You heard him getting up, allowing your legs to hang limply from the edge of the desk, as he circled around it, and took your jaw in his hand. He leaned in to give you a sweet kiss on the mouth and asked, “Am I forgiven?”

“Yes. Am I?” you murmured against his lips, and he smiled again.

“Not sure. You might want to check again at home.”

[vqtkufi]

ETHEL CAIN 240125 Trascript 0:00-15:05

I have written this transcript word for word, so it is most definitely not 100% accurate. I have tried to do the rest of the audio, and though i do have some notes and phrases, I can’t help but feel that its meant to be listened to and felt rather than read and processed. I didn’t want this section to go to waste so, enjoy :)

 “Hello, my name is Hayden Anhedönia, and you’re listening to NTS radio. I think i am going to die soon.”

“I don’t know why I have this feeling every so often where i remember, i remember four yeas ago walking and, and and i was saying something to a friend of mine and she was, she was asking me…I don’t remember. But, i told her i was scared and then she wanted to know why, she couldn’t fathom it. I just told her i feel like I’m gonna die soon, and I didn’t really have more words to put it into but, but i was there. I was there and I’ve always had this vision about holding someone in my arms while they die. I don’t know if, I don’t know if it’s me or, I don’t know. *indistinct voice from phone* what? Do you ever wonder that? *indistinct voice*”

 “i always imagine there’s  a pretty, pretty field of flowers. And in there yellow, or maybe orange and there, *mumble* on a hillside… i want to die staring at the blue sky, if that’s alright. if ,if that’s alright. And my, i wanna, I don’t know what i want.  I don’t know what i want. *indistinct voice* I don’t know what i want. I feel like i, i, i wanna dig a hole and i wanna, i wanna crawl down or through the hole and i wanna go somewhere. It’s like i can feel it, i can feel it. On the other side of the wall or in the floor, i wanna put my hands on the ceiling and i wanna, i wanna rise up. Push my body against it, i wanna be close to it. I wanna know what i can fit inside. And i wanna throw up. I wanna be sick. *indistinct voice*. i wanna get on the floor, and i, i need it to be dark. I don’t want people to look at me. I don’t want people to look at me. I want you to listen but I don’t want you to look at me. Mm. Then i want to put my hand on my chest and i want to feel my heart, and its beating too fast and i wanna get scared. And there’s a man and, and he’s watching me. And he’s watching me. I wanna.. i wanna. And i can see his, i can see the outline of his head and of his shoulders but I can’t see his face. I can’t see his face. *groans*”

“I was, In my room when i was, when i was two when the door locked and my mom and my daddy couldn’t get in. And they couldn’t get in and they said, they said they said they wanted to know who he was and that he was there on the hill and i tried. I tried to crucify myself, but I couldn’t go through with it. God said it was inappropriate. It was in poor taste. It was wrong. *indistinct voice* i know. He came to tell me. He said don’t, don’t run and they *mumbles* don’t  fuck this up. Don’t fuck this up. But you can’t fuck it up. oh i fucking hate you. You’re so fucking stupid. You’re so fucking stupid. That’s what he says. And i know it. I know it. And he’s in here with me. He’s always in here with me. He was in Alabama with me. And he hit her and i watched him and i watched him hit her, and i watched his hand and he came into my room, and he came into my room. He’s always coming into my room. Fuck. And I think he’s an angel. I think he’s an angel. *mumble* and i get so tired. I get so tired. Im so tired. Oh god. Im so tired. Im so tired. Oh my god. *groans* And i want him to touch me, i do. I still want him to touch me i want it to be real.”

[gracie-eilish]

Take me out, and take me home…

an: this is kinda long!! but here is my official fic based on Lover by Taylor Swift:) any blue text is Billie’s dialogue and any pink is readers. I hope you enjoy this one!! seven and Guilty as Sin are both coming soon. Peachy (pt. 2) is also going to be on the way! i wasn’t originally expecting you guys to want a part two so i’ll get writing!! 🥰✨🍑

warnings: intoxication mentioned, slight nudity but no smut, so much fucking fluff it’s like a unicorn threw up cotton candy in here.

alsoooo thank you also for over a hundred followers! that’s so many beautiful besties!! i’ve loved writing about billie and chatting with so many of you over the last few weeks and i can’t wait for more!! love ya💋

🩷🥂🫧💋✨

“Take me homeeeee” You slurred, stumbling out of the party you and Billie had just attended. Billie had an arm slung around your waist while you had an arm around her shoulders.

“We’re going home baby, I promise,” Billie replied with a giggle at your disheveled state. Even drunk as can be, she found you so beautiful. Your rosy cheeks even rosier, your big wide eyes now hooded and hazy and full of love, and the sleepy smile plastered on your face made her just wanna kiss it right off of you.

“Heyy babyyyyy? I have.. a very important question for… you.” You looked back up at her stoically, booping her nose as you said “you.” Billie planted a kiss to your temple to try to hide her giggle.

“What baby?” She quickly bent down to grab your waist again as you stumbled backward, making you burst into the most melodic sounding giggles.

“I’m your baby right?” This sent Billie into a laughing fit. The attempt at a serious look on your face combined with the cutest little question, she couldn’t help it.

She pressed kisses to your cheek and temple in between declarations, “My baby, *kiss* my princess, *kiss* my girl, *kiss* my angel, *kiss* my magical unicorn angel baby princess,” she added the last one with a giggle. That was your little nickname for anyone in your life who meant something to you. Your best friends, Billie of course, your little cat. And it never failed to make Billie laugh when she heard it.

“Why do you ask my love?” She questioned after your giggles calmed down again.

“Because I’m like… soooo many things right? But I don’t have a thing for you, you know? Like I need a thing for you. And I was thinking so hard in my brain tonight and I think I figured it out.” You stated matter of factly.

Billie just nodded for you to continue, holding you up a little tighter, and pushing some hair out of your face.

“You, Billie girl, are my-“ You got cut off by Billie’s phone dinging, signaling her driver was here. Without rudely interrupting you, Billie carefully walked you both over to the car, and carefully guided you into the back seat before scooching in herself.

“You warm and cozy mama?” Billie asked, fiddling with the heater in the back, kissing your forehead after you nodded in confirmation.

The ride back home was quiet, a stark contrast to the buzz of the club you two were just in, as well as to your own drunk ramblings. Some people liked to run when drunk, others call exes, and others just fall asleep. Not you. You were always a bundle of energy, ready to chit chat with anyone who would listen, and Billie found it adorable, never once silencing your tipsy rambles even as you both tried to fall asleep at 4am.

“Billie?”

“Yeah baby?”

“I feel like… I feel like I’ve known you for like.. twenty years. But also that’s like not possible. I’ve only known you for real, for like twenty seconds.”

Billie chuckled at your statement. Another little thing you did after drinking, was greatly exaggerate time. For example, if it was the middle of November and someone complained about you still having Halloween decorations up, you’d gasp in shock saying Halloween was “literally like 20 minutes ago.” You two had been dating for about three years now, so Billie just chuckled understanding twenty seconds was three years in your own little drunken time zone tonight.

“Twenty years is a long time baby,” she replied softly, pulling you in closer to her side, letting you rest your head on her shoulder.

“It’s like such a long time. *sigh* Can we still be this close in twenty years?”

This sent both of you into giggles. Billie couldn’t help herself anymore, smothering you in kisses, each one accompanied by a little “mwah!”

“Baby once I get a ring on that finger, we will be this close for a lot longer than twenty years hun.” She pushed some hair behind your ear, watching your cheeky flush under her gaze.

“For ever and ever, you’re my-“

Your conversation faltered again as you pulled up in front of your place. Billie thanked the driver and helped you out of the car before guiding you up to your apartment. Not without few stumbles and bumps along the way.

You were starting to feel a little sleepy but Billie knew you’d get a second wind once you got inside, but she still got butterflies when she felt you wrap your arms around her from behind and rest your cheek on her shoulder as she unlocked the door.

Billie almost jumped out of her skin as you gasped dramatically at something, scaring the shit out of her.

“Baby!” You had your hands on your cheeks in shock, looking back at her as she locked the door behind her.

“We left the Christmas lights up!” You paused before turning back to face the lights. “Until January!”

“Is that a bad thing?” Billie was so confused but went along with it.

“Isn’t that like… against the rules? Christmas was like a million days ago!”

“This is our place, we make the rules.” Your eyes shined up at Billie like she just revealed the meaning to life.

“Oh. My. God. You’re so fucking right babe.”

Billie chuckled and kissed your temple before guiding you to the kitchen and sitting you down on a stool as she got you some water and a small snack.

“Drink up lovie, I don’t want your pretty little head hurting tomorrow.”

As you sipped your water and nibbled on some snacks Billie went into your shared bedroom to get you some pjs and start the shower.

Billie ran her hand under the water to check the temperature before stopping, hearing such a sound come from the kitchen. She dried off her hand before tip toeing back to the kitchen to find the source of the.. sound? song? cry?

“You’re my my my myyyyyyyyyy,” it was you. And your second wind Billie had predicted. You were spinning around on stool singing.. well singing something, only stopping when you caught sight of Billie.

“Babyyyyyy!!! You came back!” You cried out with a huge smile and your hands out, wiggling your fingers as if it would magically will her closer to you. And to your knowledge, it did magically will her closer as she wrapped her own arms around you, kissing the top of your head a few times, chuckling softly.

“I finished my snack and my water. I’m so good at that.” Billie chuckled and simply placed her forehead onto the top of your head.

“You’re killing me here babe.” She said, lifting her head back up and pushing the hair out of your face. You just shrugged nonchalantly before puckering your lips dramatically. Billie smiled adoringly before leaning in and giving you a soft almost angelic kiss, squishing your cheeks a bit too.

“Alright tipsy girl, you wanna go shower and get comfy?” She said holding your shoulders while you nodded. She could tell you were starting to get sleepy, but she knows you’d be grumpy in the morning if you hadn’t showered and you were hungover.

As she guided you into the bathroom, you were humming that little song again, Billie has never heard it before.

“That’s a pretty song your singing there lovie.” She said, helping you out of your clothes.

“Thank you. I’m writing it myself. Right now.”

“Oh really? You wanna sing some more of it for me?”

“Mmm maybe when I’m in the shower. I need to write more words first.” Billie nodded, holding back a laugh.

“Of course, of course. How could I rush such art?” She replied. “Do you want me to come in with you? Need help?”

You gasped and softly nudged her shoulder, “Billie! That’s dirty!” Billie kissed your cheek softly, a mischievous glint in her eye.

“Baby it’s not dirty. We had sex in there this morning.” Your jaw dropped and face flushed at Billie’s statement. Your drunk brain not seeming to remember that right now.

“Oh my gosh Billie. You have to promise not to say things like that in front of other people.” You drunkenly pleaded, face totally flushed.

“I promise mama. I save my dirty jokes only for you.” She said with a wink, making you sigh in relief.

“Oh thank god.” Eventually you did in fact pull Billie in there with you. You claimed you didn’t need any help, but you couldn’t deny Billie’s fingers massaging the shampoo into your scalp was heavenly. The rose smell of your shampoo mixed with Billie’s woodsy vanilla body wash she used on you wrapped around you almost as tight as Billie’s arms, making your eyes droopy as you rested your head in the crook of her neck, leaning back into her and she pressed tiny kisses to your own shoulder. Her hands slowly roaming around your body, over your stomach, up to your boobs, a squeeze to your hips, a couple more squeezes on your shoulders and back to your stomach where her arms wrapped tightly, and contentedly.

“You ready for bed angel?” She whispered into your ear, hands giving your hips another squeeze. You just nodded sleepily turning around in her arms to give her a proper hug.

“Thank you by the way,” Your words a bit more steady now as you slowly sobered up.

“For what baby?”

“For saving me a seat at the table tonight. Since I got stuck in traffic. I was nervous everyone else would wanna sit next to you,” You said it so small and sweetly that Billie felt her heart grow ten sizes, knowing that at every table, she’d save you a seat for the rest of her life.

“Oh babygirl,” she cooed, cradling your head closer into her as she hugged you tighter.

She gave you one last kiss to the top of your head before shutting off the water. She stepped out and grabbed your towels out of the little towel warmer and wrapped herself in one quickly, before heading back to you. She shut the shower door again to keep the warm air in as she carefully dried you off a bit before wrapping you in the fluffy towel, with a kiss to your nose.

A comfortable silence filled the room as the two of you got ready for bed. Well really, Billie got ready for bed and then helped you do the same thing. You giggled at her focused face as she carefully dabbed moisturizer to your skin, only silencing your giggles with a kiss making both of you smile.

She had her own giggles watching your droopy eyes fight to stay open as Billie dried your hair with a towel. You absolutely melted into a puddle anytime Billie had her fingers in your hair, so her fingers mixed with a warm fluffy towel was sending you to dreamland.

When she finished, Billie helped you off the counter and gave your butt a little pat as she guided you back to your connected bedroom, shutting off the bathroom light. The two of you changed into some pjs, Billie giggled while helping you with the buttons after you whined not being able to do it right now.

“I can’t see sometimes.” You grumbled as she buttoned them with ease.

“You can’t see sometimes??” Billie asked, raising an eyebrow and biting back a smile.

“Ugh you know what I mean.” You groaned, playfully smacking her hand away once she finished.

After making sure you could get on the bed, Billie quickly went around the apartment, shutting off the lights, making sure your pets were okay, and locking the doors before returning and shutting the bedroom door behind you.

She slipped under the covers, pulling you closer to her, letting you snuggle yourself into her side like a little kitten. Once she was sure you were practically purring like one as well, Billie settled into her own pillow, letting her arm rest on your back.

“Did you write more of your song while you were in the shower?” She asked, squeezing your side quickly.

“Oh my gosh, baby I did and I forgot to tell you.” But it came out more slurred, your eyes were closed and Billie knew it would be minutes before you were fast asleep.

“That’s okay baby. You can tell me now. Sing us to sleep mama,” She whispered, kissing your cheek before settling back in your hold.

“Wait I forgot how it goes.” You were still a little drunk after all. Billie giggled trying to remember your ramblings from earlier in the night.

“I think I remember.. You kept saying “You’re my -“ and then you didn’t finish that bit. And then you were singing it in the kitchen,” Billie opened her eyes to look down at you, you seemed to be asleep at this point, but the slight furrow in your brows told her you were thinking about your little song, so she continued, whispering,

“You’re my, my, my, my….”

“Oh!! You’re my, my, my, my…” you trailed off again.

“Darling, you’re my, my, my, my…”

“Lover.”

[jambalaya-enthusiast]

I have no idea what this is, I had a dream and I just need to write this shit down. im going thru it rn. trust.

mentions of throwing up, kind of ooc jimmy, just feels, cursing.

The bass from the party music still thumped across the room, while you decided to be quick on your feet and drag your legs towards the balcony door, trying to get some fresh air from the cramped atmosphere you were trapped in for who knows how long.

once the balcony door opened, a wave of cold air stung your face, whooshing past you, and scattering a few hair strands here and there, you stepped outside, and walked towards the railing. you stood there, just breathing and taking in all the glory of the dimly lit night sky, and looked at the skyline glowing vibrantly with distant noises of traffic and the citylife.

"crawled out of the wild night?", A voice from behind you made you whip your head back and come face to face with your boyfriend, jimmy.

"you seriously call that a party? Half of them have puked up whatever cheap alcohol they'd drank. It's so gross". you retorted back at him. "Can we leave already? please? Let's stay over at my place instead, yeah?". you suggested.

Instead of answering or even giving you a nod as an acknowledgement, jimmy decided to instead stare at you, so intently that it made you gulp a lump which'd formed in your throat, he stared at you with his lips curled into a subtle smile, so subtle it wouldn't even have caught your eye if you weren't paying attention. And then, as suddenly as he'd started staring, he said,

"Why are you actually with me?". He said in a tone so deadpan that you would've thought that he was out of it. "What? Are you okay?".

"No, y/n I'm asking you, I'm being serious, why do you even like me?". Jimmy said. "Jim are you okay? Where is this coming from? Now, of all times?".

Arguments with your boyfriend weren't an uncommon occurrence, it was as normal as deciding to drink a cup of coffee. This, however, was new. Your arguments never revolved around him being conscious about his self worth.

"A day never goes by without us arguing, without any of your 'friends' telling you to leave me. without me calling you a whore at least twice a day. So why are you with me even after all of it? It would've been easier for me to understand if you were a hooker, just looking for a place to crash at without trying to make actual connections. But you don't have any reason, so why are you with me?".

You were left dumbfounded, was this actually happening? Him, of all people, asking you why you loved him? Was this his idea of a joke?

"Jim did they fucking poison you at the party? Do you even realise what you're asking me?". You decided to answer.

"I know damn well what I'm talking about, y/n. Now answer the fucking question, why do you love me? Do you have some kinda messiah complex? trying to 'fix' me? or something like that? a new type of fetish?".

Your jaw was practically left hanging at your boyfriend's sudden display of aggressive attitude towards defending the idea that you loved him for an ulterior motive.

"Why don't you hate me?". He snapped once again.

"Because you don't give me any reason to". You finally said back.

"Oh don't give me that crap, I give ya plenty of reason to dump my ass and run away from me, any other person would've called the fuckin' cops on me". He continued on.

"Because I love you, Jim". You stopped him mid sentenced.

"I love you not in the sense that I want to get in your pants or steal your wallet, or save you from your misery, or whatever else nonsense you have going on in your mind". Jimmy was still looking at you with narrowed, skeptical eyes.

"I love you, as one might love another person, simply because they wanna love them. I love you, because I want to love you". You didn't realise that your chest was starting to feel heavy, and your vision was getting blurry, but you continued on.

"I love you because... because I want to. Not because I have to, not because there's some fuckin'... i don't know, social obligation that one must require to love another? I don't have it, i don't need it. You make me want to love you without any cause, I love you in the sense that... I love you because I can, I love you in the way that I need to... let you know that I can't do without you goddamn it. Why? Do you not want me to love you?".

At this point tears were flowing down your cheeks like a goddamn waterfall, you weren't yelling, you weren't pleading. you were simply letting your boyfriend know that you loved him.

Jimmy's eyes were wide, it's almost as if he'd seen some ghost, trying to prove to him its existence. Without saying a word hugged you so tight as if it was the last thing he could do before dying.

"I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm so fucking sorry". He repeated those words like a mantra, neither of you know what came over for this conversation to take place in the first place, but now that it has. You're unsure if you wanted for this to have never happened.