#and i had to be like no you've got the wrong person but like ??? he looked Stressed

[endearng]

Out of reach

Pairing: earlyseasons!Spencer Reid x hotchner!fem!reader Summary: You pull away from Spencer because of your jealousy. You go back to him after a few drinks in. WC: 9k A/N: fluff! pining! idiots/friends to lovers! alcohol consumption; spencer is a bit mean; reader doesn't communicate; hotch is a little older to have a daughter around spencer's age (do not come at me this is fiction). If I missed anything, please let me know! I had so much fun writing this one and it's now one of my favorites <3 masterlist

The jet was quiet as you and the BAU team made your way back from Los Angeles after successfully finding Lila Archer's stalker. The case had been a bit draining, after all, you've only been working with the FBI for a couple of months, and seeing dead bodies and all those other displays of violence was something you were still trying to get used to. Despite your sensitive nature, being Aaron Hotchner's daughter meant that you had mastered the art of a poker face through the years, not that it meant that your inner feelings were any less important. This is how you found yourself sitting all alone in a corner of the jet as everyone minded their own business. On any other day, you'd be sitting next to Dr. Spencer Reid, talking about whatever it was that could get your mind off the case you had just wrapped up. Spencer and you were friends, some would even say the best of friends, but you didn't mind about naming things — what mattered the most is that you got to be yourself around him and you didn't bother hiding behind the Hotchner glare, as he once put it.

Despite being unknown territory for you, after all, feelings and all that were protected by a deeply analytic and practical mind, you knew what you were feeling. Well, you were analyzing your reactions to check what had actually happened — and the thing is, you couldn't admit, not even to yourself, what that sinking feeling in your chest when you watched Spencer saying goodbye to Lila was. Amid your analysis, Spencer quietly approached you, silently motioning to the seat next to you. You nodded, shutting every single thought of him. Or at least, trying.

"Hi."

Hotch glare. "Hi, Reid."

Spencer felt nervous. He had never been on the receiving end of your… wrath before, so it was unknown territory and he didn't know how to act. His racing heart and clammy palms weren't helping him, either. Taking a deep breath, he said, "Listen, um, you... can... can we talk?" The stammering. Way to go, Spencer.

Glancing at him, ignoring the skip in your heartbeat, you nodded. "Yeah. Is everything alright?" A firm, secure tone. You mentally patted yourself on the back.

"You're a little distant... and—and I got a bit worried. Did... Did something happen?" He wanted to kick himself. What kind of person can't hold a serious conversation without stuttering like an idiot? Get a grip, Reid.

"No, Reid. Everything is alright. I'm just... thinking." You said.

Bullshit. You both knew that. Spencer, on the other hand, didn't know why it was bullshit. But he knew it was.

"Are you sure?" He asked, leaning towards you, almost invading your personal space and he shut his eyes before delivering the next question, "Is... I haven't done anything to upset you? Right?"

You took a second to answer him, willing your voice to stay still and the knot in your throat to go away. "No. It's nothing you've done. It's just... it's on me." You gave him a small smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes — that's when he knew something was definitely wrong.

He nodded, but he was still worried by your sudden change of behavior, especially towards him. It was like he was anyone else, again. And, God, he didn't want that. "What is it, then? You can talk to me, you know. We're best friends."

Best friends.

The words felt bitter on his tongue. The sound of them broke your heart all over again.

Best friends. "Right. Yeah. I know." You said, quietly, and it felt a little lifeless to him. He clenched his hand, fighting the urge to touch you, to ask you what was truly bothering you. "Thanks for offering."

Spencer felt conflicted. If he didn't say anything and didn't push you to speak, you would probably bury whatever it was that you were feeling and it would lead him into being even more worried about you. If he did, you would probably snap at him because of his undesired, bothersome insistence. "It's nothing." He said, defeatedly. "Can you just... Do you promise it's not me?"

Your heart ached and you smiled at him, a tiny, faint, barely there smile. He was so adorable, sometimes. "I'm just upset over something else. Don’t worry. You didn't do anything wrong." You finished, trying to convince yourself that he had not, indeed, done something wrong.

And he didn't. He didn't. You and Spencer, despite your proximity and sometimes incredibly ambiguous relationship, hadn't said anything about deeper feelings towards one another. You let yourself admire him, lovingly, from afar, and were happy with the snippets of attention you had from him when you two had some free time. You two were regulars in the coffee shop near his apartment and, by now, the local librarian, Mrs. Jones, could probably fake your signature from how often you two went there to borrow books. She would watch you two behind the bookshelves, whispering excitedly and curiously to each other about whatever suggestions you were getting from each other. As you missed Spencer's longing glances to read a summary, Mrs. Jones smiled to herself, both at how adorable you two were and how oblivious you were. In museums, you would sit down after some time walking around to his explanations of art and historical movements that impacted the expression of a certain age — you pretended to not know a few things, just so he could speak his heart away and not be interrupted by your own contributions.

You kept silent to make him happy.

Which was exactly what was happening now.

Spencer knew, for sure, that you were hiding something from him. But he also knew that he had no right to force it out. He fidgeted awkwardly, not knowing what to do with his hands, his heart still clenching. “But, but... you’d come to me if you needed help, right?”

You nodded, unable to speak. You knew you were wrong, omitting things from him. Just as the guilt was starting to weigh in your heart, Derek passed by you two with a magazine in his hands, throwing it at Spencer, exclaiming, "My man!"

You looked down, already knowing what it was. Spencer was a mess beside you: blushing, stuttering, avoiding your and Derek's gaze and throwing the magazine as far as he could, like it had burned him. Your reaction was a subtle twitch of your lips, not in amusement, but in need to disguise the pang in your heart. You both spent the rest of the flight sitting in silence, simply being in each other's orbit. You, guiltily. Spencer, worriedly.

Your reaction — or lack of — was staggering to Spencer. He thought you two were getting somewhere, despite your closed off nature and demeanor, he thought he was finally cracking you up. Everyday was torture, seeing you walk through the bullpen's glass doors with your professional clothes and your composed figure. It was torture to see you walk around so prettily and serious, holding his bare heart in your hands, and not even realizing it. By now, he lived and thrived on those rare opportunities you had to spend time together as he became more and more covered in you.

As the jet landed and Spencer walked out to talk to Derek, you pettily made sure to step on Lila Archer's face when leaving the jet in sheer frustration.

Back to the bullpen, you had gone to the restroom to splash some water on your face in order to calm your nerves and to tell yourself that it was only a matter of time until things got back to normal — until you got back to normal. Glancing at your reflection in the mirror, you wondered if Spencer could tell that there was something wrong with you, if you had let any of your feelings slip during your short conversation. The version of you that stared back was as impassible as you ever were. As you made your way to your desk in the dimly lit sea of desks, you caught Spencer and Derek talking, both having their backs to you.

Sighing, you just left the headquarters, not wanting to know what they were discussing, or rather, knowing what they were discussing, but unwilling to stay, even if it would quench your curiosity as to what Spencer had been thinking.

Maybe you didn't want to know the answer.

—

The days went by, cases coming left and right, flights making you almost dizzy — not that you would admit, but you were terrified of heights. Between those and your training, you barely had time to think about Spencer and the entire Lila occasion. You spent your days busy with work, studies and physical training in order to keep your mind away from that, but as you lay awake at night, the memories would come back to haunt you relentlessly to the point you had recurring dreams of them. Together, as you watched from the sidelines. You kept to yourself, slipping further and further away from Spencer.

Reid, on the other hand, felt your absence more than anyone. You took a rain check on all the invitations he made, even when he invited you to movie night, when he would definitely choose a Russian movie because you mentioned once how you liked how the language sounds. There wasn't any more donuts on his desk as he arrived in the morning (he would always joke that you and your father secretly lived in the headquarters and that someday he would see Haley bringing your groceries to the secret house), and there was no one for him to throw his paper airplanes, small flashcards with the Russian phonological alphabet, at. The change in your behavior was absurdly clear to everyone: you barely called or texted him anymore, you didn't look his way when someone told a joke to check if he thought it was funny... He was sulking, to say the least. Upon questioning you, you blamed your lack of free time and as he was going to question you further, you said in a teasing tone that not everyone was like him and that the FBI was actually making you go through all the training phases.

Finally, during the end of a particularly frustrating workday, he finally snapped, grabbing your arm before you could enter the elevator. It was only you and him in the otherwise empty hallway. "Ok. What's been going on? And don't," he said, closing his eyes, "don't dance around the subject. Don't say it's the Academy. Don't say you have to work. Don't. Please, be honest with me."

The exasperation in his eyes and in his tone almost broke the wall that hid your true feelings, but as you glanced at him, you figured you couldn't do it. Be honest? What for? To hear that you're nothing more than his best friend? Losing said friend was not an option, not to you, at least. But you also knew that you weren't treating him right, that keeping him out was not at all fair to him, that leaving him in the dark was as hurtful as it would be to lose him.

Breathing deeply, you answered with the same stoic expression you wore every single damn day. "I told you, Reid. People go through different, busier times in their lives." The lie tasted like acid.

Spencer clenched his teeth, frustration and confusion beginning to override some of his social anxieties. “That! That!” He asked through clenched teeth, his gaze intense.

"That what?" You asked, puzzled.

"You... you stopped calling me 'Spence'—not that you did it often, you did it more when we were all alone, and it... it sucks! It sucks because I don't know what happened or what I did that was so wrong to make you stop liking me!"

Come on, just say something! Get angry, get sad, get something!, his mind screamed.

"I never stopped liking you," you said, looking away from him. His words hit a particular spot that you were totally willing to discover later, but the mere thought that he knew that you liked him more than as a friend made you shiver.

"That's not the point! Or—or rather, it is! Because if you didn't stop liking me, why would you act like you did?" He asked, his tone rising a bit.

"Calm down."

"Calm down? I will not calm down!" He almost yelled. His eyes widened slightly, disbelief clear in his features and tone, not to mention the frustration. "Just. Please.” He said, closing his eyes, willing himself to tone it down, not that it worked... “Tell me what you're thinking, what happened to you! For once! Any normal person would react and stop acting like an emotionless robot!"

You gaped like a fish out of water, taking a small step back, his words digging a hole in your heart. Upon hearing his own words and noticing you distancing yourself from him, all the anger vanished from his body. The widened eyes were a sign of realization of what he had said to you. During the early months of friendship, you had confided in him that you struggled with portraying emotion like others normally did. Maybe it had something to do with growing up with a father who did it so perfectly when he was out of the house. When he wasn't actively playing the ‘dad’ part, Aaron Hotchner would wear an unreadable mask like it was his armor, his defense from the outer world, but as soon as he got home, he was back to his main role. You would watch him with his coworkers and mimic him perfectly to make him laugh. At some point, making fun of and imitating his demeanor had become some serious form of self-defense for you. Spencer, then, joked that you were making your way to the perfect job, but then he had gotten serious and told you that it wasn't a flaw. That it wasn't a problem that you kept deeply to yourself sometimes — that it was okay to be yourself around him. You had felt safe by his side since then.

But now, what did those words mean? Were they lies?

He breathed out your name, softly, "I... I... I'm sorry."

"Just drop it," you replied, pushing the elevator button. Your dismissive tone and your action of leaving made Spencer feel utterly desolate, like he had done the wrongest thing in the world and perhaps he had, but he just wanted you to let him in. For once, he wanted to have the answers from your lips, not spend any more time analyzing your every single action and words...

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..."

"You know, Spencer…" he looked up at you when he heard his name, as you held out an arm to hold the elevator doors open. As if thinking better than to say anything, you sighed and turned to enter the elevator, shaking your head with the most disappointed look he had ever seen on your face.

Spencer tried looking at you one last time before the elevator doors closed, and despite your face being as unreadable as it often was, he saw a flicker of sadness that stung his heart more than he liked to admit. If he hadn't done anything wrong before, now he had utterly fucked everything up.

—

The drive home, for Spencer, was a torture. He knew that he had to pay attention to the road ahead of him, to the other vehicles and drivers, but his mind kept drifting to the last glimpse of you back in the headquarters. Your empty eyes appeared behind his eyelids every time he pressed his eyes closed. He willed himself not to cry, to not blur his vision, taking his frustration out on the steering wheel, where his grip was so tight that his knuckles turned white. As he parked his car and looked up to one of his windows, he remembered you. Because of course he would remember you.

The sight was almost comical, to be honest. You, clad in one of the suits that fitted you so well, sitting on his windowsill, a cup of green tea in hands as you stared out the window, trying to analyze every single drop of rain before it reached somewhere outside your vision range. The funny thing was that you had no shoes on, instead, Spencer lent you a mismatched pair, not being one used to having people over, he didn't have a pair of spare slippers. Then, you sat there with a dinosaur-pattern sock on one foot and a striped-pattern sock on the other.

Spencer, sitting on his sofa and holding his own cup (he had let you choose your mug and stayed quiet when you pointed quietly at his favorite), smiled to himself. It was weirdly calming seeing you out of your character, doing something so... human.

"I can feel you staring, you know," you said. And your tone was almost... teasing?

"Right. Sorry." He said, looking down at his steaming tea.

"I'm not scolding you," you said, turning to look at his direction with a grin.

"Right, no—heh..." he replied, bashfully, cheeks reddening at the sight of your smile.

If only you knew... how many hours he would lay awake at night, as thoughts swirled in his head, how everything seemed to shut down at the thought of you. How he would fall asleep to the wish of being on the receiving end of one of your rare smiles, how he appreciated that you were always the first one he talked to upon his arrival at the headquarters. How... how he would do anything for you to look at him under a different light.

Seemingly out of nowhere, you giggled. Everything stopped.

Spencer.exe has stopped working.

"Heheh—I guess... It's not everyday you get to see a Hotchner so out of its—heheh—habitat." You quipped, looking at him with a smile on your face.

Suddenly, Spencer lost his voice. The connection between his brain and his tongue, which felt heavy, disappeared. Completely speechless, eyes slightly wide at the sound of your laughter. It made you laugh a bit more, but when his stare and open mouth got too much to handle, you looked down at your feet, wiggling your toes to distract yourself from the intensity of his gaze full of awe. Then, Spencer got back to his senses, smiling at you as you missed it to look away in embarrassment.

Spencer blinked away the tears and left his car, entering his apartment. As he took off his shoes, he let the tears fall at the sight of your windowsill.

—

Meanwhile, you were getting wasted at some bar. Not just any bar, but the one you usually went with Spencer when you were feeling daring and wanted a change from the places where you both used to go to. You were a bit of a lightweight, so a couple of drinks were enough for you to start playing trivia with Spencer and let your gaze linger for longer, basking in the sight of him so carefree, having fun with you.

Upon your arrival, the bartender that usually took care of your orders, MJ, greeted you with a smile. When she saw no one was joining you, she frowned. "Good evening, Hotch. Where's loverboy?"

You sent her a look, but since you were letting your guard down, after all, there were no acquaintances or friends around, you didn't know if the look came out as a glare or if you looked like a kicked puppy. She snorted. "Gee... That bad, huh?" She asked, and you didn't answer again, though you muttered a soft thanks, MJ when she gave you your go-to drink.

And it turned into two drinks. Three. Four...

(MJ was now giving you alcohol-free drinks, too worried for your well-being. You and Spencer started to grow on her as you two kept coming back.)

You rested your chin on your left hand while you traced patterns with your right index finger on the counter. MJ was eyeing you suspiciously, drying a few glasses with a washcloth. "He kissed another girl." You admitted, quietly.

"No way." She gasped.

"Way."

"But... I thought you two were a thing." MJ was baffled, placing down the objects she was holding in sheer shock. "I always thought you two were like... together for years."

"We were a thing.... I think, at least... I don't know, MJ." You sighed, tucking a stray of hair behind your ear. Looking up at her, hazy eyes taking in her focused expression, you sniffled, "we were on this case and then he met a girl and then the next moment the two of them were making out in a pool. In a freaking pool."

She tsked, anger flashing in her eyes, "I swear, those nerdy guys are the worst."

"Yeah..." You muttered, fiddling with your straw. "Can I have another one?"

She pursed her lips, but she relented. Then, as she handed you the liquid, a guy sat next to you. Did he look like Spencer or were you already hallucinating?

"Hi. I'm Dave. Can I buy you a drink...?" He asked with a small smile, wanting to know your name.

No, not Spencer. It’s cool.

"Hi, I..."

MJ cut you off. "Hey, Dave, I think she had too much to drink already."

They exchanged looks and it took you a minute to feel offended by her interruption and knowing you were perfectly capable of speaking for yourself, but realizing you would probably have to entertain a stranger, you felt grateful for it.

Dave left with a sour smile. "Thanks." You muttered, again, looking at MJ.

"Do you need me to get you a cab, honey?"

"That would be great." You said, placing money bills to pay for your drinks and the tip.

MJ looked around to spot someone to keep an eye on the bar as she led you out of the place, hand never leaving your shoulder. As she called a cab, she made you stand on only one leg to make sure you weren't gonna need her to go with you. You scoffed, but obeyed her all the same, with a low snicker. As you two waited for the cab driver, a woman who MJ trusted with her life (and her favorite regulars), you tried to make conversation to make up for embarrassing yourself by talking about Spencer with someone. How pathetic.

"So, what does MJ stand for?"

She chuckled, shaking her head at you and at your dazed eyes. "That's classified information."

"I'm familiar with that."

The cab driver, Paula, arrived. She greeted the both of you with a smile and a cheerful good evening! As you entered the vehicle, you rolled the windows down and pressed the subject further, "Seriously, is it Mary Jane or were your parents more creative?"

She rolled your eyes at you, shaking her head. "It's Mary Jane. MJ because who would take me seriously?"

You smiled. "I like the shoes!"

Paula started driving slowly, just to let other drivers drop their own passengers, as you were lost in your own little world, serious expression taking over your face again, not wavering, as you delved deeper into the whirlwind of thoughts plaguing your head. Paula, looking at you through the rear-view mirror, asked, "Is everything okay, honey?"

You buckled your seatbelt. "Yes, yes. Just... keep driving slowly, please."

"Where to?"

Only then you realized you never gave her an address. Closing your eyes and taking a deep breath, you gave her Spencer's, telling her you were going home.

—

An unknown number had sent Spencer a couple of messages.

[8:32 p.m.] Lovergirl is here, drinking all by herself.

[8:32 p.m.] Water, but still. I'm not having her passed out without you here.

[8:40 p.m.] Sent her home, people were starting to approach.

Throughout the time he had spent with you at the bar, the two of you exchanged numbers with MJ in case she needed your help — you know, being FBI agents and whatnot. But Spencer didn't need to see her name to know it was her and she was talking about you; 'lovergirl' and 'passed out without you here' gave him clue enough. His stomach tied in knots when he read that people were starting to approach her, the nagging feeling that the image conjured in his mind was making him feel almost sick, then, it hit him like a truck: Lila Archer.

Their… case? was as fleeting as a careless glance. To be honest, Spencer accepted her advances to spite you for having such power over him, even if unknowingly so. The young agent felt like you were so out of his league, so out of reach — you were all that pile of confidence and stoicism and pure lusciousness and everything to him. And he was a young guy who truly had barely been kissed so far. How could he approach you, charm his way into your heart, especially when you barely bared it? With Lila, it was... nice. Easy, even. It was nice being wanted, to be able to read her intentions and desires like a children's book. With you, it was a tantalizing challenge, one he was, for the first time, struggling with. It was not like having a high-school crush, not like pining over the untouchable girls that would catch his interest as he grew older. No. This was something new. You had hit him deeper than ever or anyone before.

Plus, as much as he hated to admit it, he gave room to the anxious thoughts regarding your father as well. Would it affect his relationship with his superior? Would it affect your relationship with your father? Spencer felt dizzy just by the mere thought of ruining something uniquely yours. No, he couldn't impose himself on your life like that. It was mean, it was wrong, it was immoral.

To want, to desire, is to be selfish.

It was a bold assumption. To think you were jealous of him. Nevertheless, the signs were all there, had been all along. He was just dumb and scared enough of making assumptions.

A barely there, faint sound of a knock on his door made Spencer fly out of his bed, dropping his phone on the bedroom floor, but he didn't pick it up. He had a suspicion as to who could be knocking on his door, but he was too scared of assuming anything. Again. Opening the door, he saw you, breathing a bit heavily. The stairs, he supposed. You always complained about them. Once you exchanged looks, Spencer’s surprised one and your earnest one, you asked, "Do you really think I'm a robot?"

Shit. He could feel his heart breaking in a million little pieces. The insecure edge of your voice and words made him squeeze his eyes shut; in his mind, he was kicking himself simultaneously as he sank down to his knees, on your feet, begging you to forgive and forget his dumb, stupid, frustrated, unrealistic words.

"No," he breathed out, wincing, almost as if he was in physical pain. "I—I didn't mean to talk about you like that. I was..."

"Frustrated?"

He nodded, silently, eyes never leaving your face. Your speech, albeit way out of the ordinary that he was used to, was flawless. If not by the dilated pupils and the faint smell of alcohol, not to mention MJ's texts, he would dare to say you were perfectly sober. "I was, too." You admitted, looking down.

Spencer made way for you to enter his apartment. He watched as you kicked your shoes off. The sight, that had become as common as the act of breathing, made his way flutter. You intended on staying. Or so he hoped. You walked further into the place, noticing everything as it ever was, as if you hadn't been to his apartment for some time now. "You must be thinking why I'm here," you said, moving to sit on the couch and mentioning him to sit on the small coffee table in front of you, as if you owned the place, and not him.

Perhaps it was true.

He closed the door once you were inside, hesitating for a moment before joining you. He kept noticing things about you; the way you were walking, the way you could barely look him in the eye, the way you looked… “How much did you have to drink?” He asked, quietly.

"Not much. You know I don't usually drink because I can’t hold my drinks. And I'm sure MJ was giving me plain water at some point." You said, looking up at him. Well, at least, your speech flawlessly delivered, even though you were moving a bit more… disoriented than usual. She's totally a Hotchner.

"I... I am," he started, sitting in front of you carefully. "I... I'm sorry. It's just... You've never been so distant. I guess that I was mean to you to elicit some reaction."

Your analytical gaze softened upon his confession. You needed to give him some break, be a little easy on him. Well, easier than you were being as of lately. Nodding lightly, you added, "I'm here to apologize, too. I know... I know that I pushed you away and I made you think that... that that was your fault. It's not."

He froze. No, he wouldn't have you taking the blame for how his actions caused you to react. He looked up at you, reaching out a hand to touch your intertwined ones, "It is."

"Hear me out. Please." You said, lowly, not breaking eye contact. This was so hard, and you had never felt so afraid before. How ironic — to be afraid of being brave. "I... I guess that by now you know why I pulled away."

"I do," he admitted, nervously. "It took me some time, but I... I think I figured you out."

You looked down, embarrassed. It was overwhelming for him to see you portray such different and so many emotions all at once. To you, it was as agonizing as it was freeing. "Well, yes. So... It, um, it wasn't fair. We... we are not something. We are not a thing."

His heart, doing all the thinking and feeling, nearly stopped. As if it wasn't enough, you kept on going, "I'm sorry, I truly am, for how I behaved and how I made you feel by being absent. It's... it's not my place. You have your own life, Reid. I can't be upset with you for making decisions. You're a grown man..." you sighed, glancing at every direction but at him. "I know that I'm wrong, okay? And I know that I shouldn't have pushed you away, nor should I have kept my feelings from you."

Spencer drew in a long breath. He didn't know what to say, but you couldn't be more wrong. All at once, he wanted to scream, but he didn't know what ro say; he wanted to run, but he didn't want to leave you alone — not for a second. He didn't ever want you out of his sight; he didn't want to be the one you were apologizing to, hell, he wanted everything to be okay between them, but it was nice that she was talking to him, finally.

"I..."

Every time he thought he could say something, words failed him. Then, you took it as another opportunity to word-vomit everything you've been feeling. "I was... I was jealous. I didn't like to see that. I didn't like that it happened. But I also know that I have no right to be upset with you because you're single and she's attractive and you're both consenting and willing to do whatever you please, so..." You shrugged as if speaking those words aloud didn't stab new holes in your heart.

Spencer looked at you, totally speechless. It made you snicker. And speak further. Shut up, you idiot. Please, please, please! "And, ah—hahahah—I guess I am, indeed, a bit of a robot because it took me a bit of alcohol to pluck up the courage to come here and totally—hic—destroy our friendship by telling you I love you so much; that I'd hate to see you with anyone other than me. It happened and I hated it. It still stings."

Spencer's heart threatened to fail once again. Your giggles, your words, your confession... His mind completely short-circuited. She loved him. She loved him? She loved him?!?!???!!! That’s what she’d just said, apparently. Okay, calm down. And she’d been jealous. She didn’t like him kissing another woman, because she fucking loved him. Say something, you dumb idiot, his brain shrieked. Say something!

You parted your lips to say something else, but apparently decided against it. Another beat of silence of Spencer staring dumbly at you. "I'm going," you blurted out, standing up.

Spencer, at breakneck speed, stood up as well to stop you from walking away, placing his hands tentatively on your shoulders. Your bodies were now apart by mere inches. "No." His voice was so small and pained that you sat back down.

Despite your apparent willingness, your next words told him about your turmoil. "Why would I stay, Spencer? I've been pouring my heart out to you and you haven't said a thing."

Looking at you, so bare and so vulnerable, Spencer suddenly had flashbacks from when he had lashed out on you earlier and simultaneously fought the feelings that were bubbling inside of him upon your confession. Couldn't you see the sheer shock on his face? Couldn't you see that he was battling against every single bit of self restraint not to pull you into his embrace and make you believe him when he would tell you that you were the only woman for him?

Sure, he had dreamed of you saying those words to him countless times as time went by and you two got closer. Shit, he literally dreamed of it. Of you. Speaking sweet nothings to him... He broke out of his daze, realizing that he was deadly silent, "Don't go..."

"Then say something. I'm here. Not as Hotch's daughter, not as your coworker, not as a part of the team you work with. I'm here as the woman in whose heart you've grown over the last few months. I'm terrified of your answer and you keep depriving me of it." There was a hint of annoyance and hurry on your voice, and he could understand you, he truly could. He just didn't... he lost his voice when he looked at you.

Saying your name softly, he beginned, “I said stupid, untrue things, and I’m sorry. I’m a jerk, and I know that I’m a jerk and—" You quirked your eyebrow and he took a deep breath, trying to cut his rant. "Just... don't sit there and think that I have nothing to say."

"Have you said it?" You pressed it, quirking an eyebrow.

"No." He admitted, widening his eyes a bit as he realized his mistake.

At the same time, you shot, "Not saying something is also an answer for me—"

"—but not for the reasons you're thinking! Do you know how hard it is for me right now?" Spencer was starting to sound very desperate and pathetic, not to mention the fact that he wasn't answering your questions.

Deep breaths (from both ends).

"Look, Reid..." He glared at you upon hearing his last name. "I think I should go home. You and I clearly need some space—"

"What we need to do is talk."

You sighed. "Then why won't you give me an answer?"

Silence.

"You won't even remember this in the morning."

At that, you deemed yourself utterly defeated. This was useless. "I'm sorry I came over. I'm... I'll just go, okay? Please, don't be upset about tonight. I apologize in advance."

The sight of her, once more shying away from him and turning to escape from him, was making Spencer frustrated, with himself, to no end. His heart clenched at your apology, to which he shook his head vehemently. The thing is, he wanted to get ready to answer you, properly, just like he always had some trick up his sleeve or some funny or curious fact to blurt during the most random moments. Spencer was good at speaking, but only when the speech was already ingrained into his mind, something he had read or rehearsed before. Plus, he was sure your state of drunkenness would stop you from remembering that moment.

Spencer dashed to his door, barely stopping you. No, no, no, no, no... She can't leave. This might be my only chance. "You're not going anywhere."

"Excuse me?"

"Stay with me. I don't want you to go." He said, softly, slowly, looking straight into your eyes. It made you dizzy. Either that or the alcohol.

"No?"

"Y-you're drunk and I... I don't think it's safe for you to go by yourself and it's late and... and..." he trailed off, nervously, desperate to get you to stay.

"I'm not drunk."

"You're not fooling me. You might be as concise as ever but you're not sober. Stay."

"Promise... promise you won't be upset with me?"

His heart dropped, heavy with guilt. And with love for you. "I promise."

Spencer silently led you back to the couch, gingerly holding your hand. He felt dazzled, speechless, desperate, frustrated, all at once. But your touch was starting to ground him back to reality, where you were real, having confessed your feelings for him, and he was a mess, not even being able to say anything back. Without much thinking, he said, "You should stay over tonight."

"Okay... I'll take the couch."

"As if I'd let you sleep on the couch."

"It's okay."

"Stop... stop acting like I sent you away."

You kept silent. You felt like he did. Through his touch, he hoped to get you to understand that his feelings were a mess, but they existed, and they were real, and they were yours. "That'd be alright with me, you know. Taking your couch. I think I would sleep better on your floor than I would ever in my bed. To... to say that anything is better if you're somehow involved."

His stomach made a flip-flop. Brain short-circuited again. You yawned, as if you had just made an annoying comment on the weather.

"Are you tired?" He managed to mutter.

"I am."

"Come on. Let's get you to bed."

"No."

"What do you mean 'no'? I'm not letting you on the couch. Come on."

"I can't go to your bed with outside clothes." You booped his nose.

He chuckled lowly, confused a little by your words. "Are you seriously worried about clothes?"

"You don't like germs. That's why I removed my shoes."

Okay, he thought, if I manage to put her to sleep without having a heart attack, I definitely don't need a cardiologist's appointment because it would mean I'm that strong.

"Y-you... remembered?" Damn it, Reid. Stop stuttering.

You sighed, tiredly, and rested your head on his shoulder, looking down at his hand holding yours. "I remember everything about you."

"You do?"

"Yes. Fortunately or unfortunately."

Spencer was too stunned to speak. Too stunned, too dumb, too afraid. Damn it. Damn it. He couldn't stop cursing internally. He forced himself to pull you towards his bedroom and even though he still sensed some uncertainty, he kept going. Reaching for a pair of sweatpants and a big t-shirt, he gave those to you. "You can change into these," as he left the room to make you more comfortable.

"Wait!" You almost shrieked.

"What happened?" He prompted, worriedly, reaching a hand out to touch your arm.

"I don't want you to go."

He bit back a sigh. "I'll be just outside."

"Just... stay here?"

"I can't—" he interrupted himself, just turning around so his back was to you instead. At that, he looked up at his ceiling and prayed to any deity to let him survive that night.

He could hear the sounds of your movements. The zipper being undone, the soft ruffling of the fabric as you tugged your shirt up your head... He was imagining your exposed skin, every perfect inch, how would you look without all those clothes that suited you so nicely, how would it be to touch you, to run his fingertips all over your heated skin, how would it be to kiss every freckle on your body, to—"Done."

Turning around, the sight was adorable, which made him somewhat guilty of his early impure thoughts. "I feel like Alice when she shrunk into a tiny human."

He couldn't fight the smile at your words. He led you to his bed, where you laid on your back on top of the covers, staring at the ceiling. Spencer left you briefly to get you a glass of water and some painkillers to leave by the bedside table. You thanked him with a silent glance. As he turned to leave, once again, you said in a small voice, almost phrasing it like a question, too afraid of the answer. "Stay."

"I'll take the couch."

"You asked me to stay, thrice, I guess… And I did. I asked you once and you did. I still have a few requests left. I'm keeping tabs."

He relented, laying next to you and placing a pillow between you two. You breathed out a chuckle and he shook his head, clearly knowing where your mind had gone to. He placed his hand on top of the pillow, offering his comfort, and then you tentatively placed yours on top of his. He grinned to himself.

It was hard for him to wrap his head around what had happened that night. He knew his words — or lack of — could be read the wrong way and you possibly did, but he also hoped that his actions were speaking louder. Just as he was getting lost in thought again, he heard your voice once more.

"Spence?"

That damned nickname.

"Thanks for, um, being so respectful. Not that I don't think you'd be. But, um, as you've said, I'm drunk. And I told you I love you. And you're simply holding my hand." He gulped. He was keeping count, too, of how many times you said you loved him. Twice, so far, but he wanted so much more, endlessly. He wanted to lose track. "I guess... that makes me love you even more," you finished, crushing his heart between your palms, voice thick with sleep.

When he finally turned his head to look at you, your eyes were closed and you looked peaceful, drifting off to sleep. Then, when he was sure you were actually asleep, he stood up from his bed, grabbing a pillow and a spare blanket to lay on the floor.

"I'll gladly sleep on my floor if it means I get to have you around, too..."

—

Spencer didn't get any sleep.

He tossed and turned on the floor all night long, both because his carpet was not the most comfortable spot to sleep on, but also and mostly because there was no way in hell his mind stopped working. All through the night, Spencer fought the urge to shake you awake to ask if this was real, if you really loved him, if the words that slipped through your lips were in fact your feelings towards him. Despite his curiosity and eagerness, he let you sleep, figuring that he had already put you through too much already. As you slept, a movie played on his mind: your moments together, your confession of love, and overthinking the words we are not something. We are not a thing. He feared that you would wake up and realize how badly he had screwed up and decide not to want him anymore. Yes, he was that anxious.

You, on the other hand, even though confused by his lack of answer to your heart’s words, felt lighter than ever by speaking out your truth (the booze did help you a lot, though). Being as analytical as you were had its perks. One of them is that you never let yourself suffer too much for too long, too attached to reality to care much about the rest. So what if he rejected you? Life goes on — and that’s what you thought with every other loser that you caught yourself thinking too much of. Spencer, though… Who were you kidding? Spencer was Spencer. And that meant the world… It wasn’t so bad, if he actually rejected you… you’d only have to face him every day, until the rest of your lives, doomed to work together, cursed to think and rethink all over again small, fleeting moments such as an exchange of longing glances.

(You felt strangely calm due to your touch with reality. Maybe, just maybe, you were hoping for the best based on his care with and for you. But boy, were you ready to give him a piece of your mind.)

As your eyes fluttered open, you stretched your limbs on an unfamiliar bed with too much space. Upon your confusion, the memories came back with full force. You jolted, sitting down, searching for him — and, to be honest, not wanting to find him. The house was deadly silent, so you tried to trick yourself that you were sure he wasn't there. You dashed to the bathroom, taking a quick shower to get rid of the shame and the faint reek of alcohol. As you moved around his stuff, you couldn't help but think that you were so familiar with his things that it was almost like you belonged there. Sigh. It turns out that hiding emotions is easier than feeling them, especially their extremes.

As soon as you finished putting on your own clothes, you stopped dead in your tracks as you heard footsteps outside the bedroom. You froze, not knowing what to say. Or do.

Spencer entered the room, holding a tray meticulously organized with some food on it. “Morning. I, um, made you breakfast.” Because of course he would make you fucking breakfast. 

“Morning,” you replied awkwardly and hoarsely. Maybe you cried a little bit, who knows… “Thanks, you didn't have to.”

“I did.”

You take your time to get a good look at him. He had bags under his eyes that appeared to be tired. The sight made your heart drop. “I'm sorry…”

“Don't be.”

“But I was wrong.”

“So was I.”

“But—”

“Last night you said some things. Do you, uh, do you remember what you told me?” You nodded, unable to speak. “Do you remember what you told me?” He repeated, trying to get a verbal answer from you.

“Yes, Spencer. I remember.”

“Can you listen to what I have to say now?”

You nodded, weakly.

“I didn't say anything because… because everything had gone in the most opposite direction they could've gone.” He said, approaching you calmly. “I was up the entire night, hoping to find the right words to tell you that would make you believe me after I… was stupid. I… First, I'm sorry I made you feel that way. I know you said that we're nothing, that we weren't something, that we didn't have anything… but… but you're everything to me.” At that, your eyes finally met his. The intensity of your gaze made him shudder, but he kept going. “All the time we've spent together was nothing compared to what I want to have with you… and… and… God! Do you have any idea of the torture I was put through with you? Constantly thinking of what we could be, what we should be, too scared of your reaction or that—that—that Hotch decided to chop off my neck because he found out that I was crushing on his only daughter!”

At the mention of your dad, you burst out laughing. Seriously? That was such a cliché! “Hey! I'm serious!”

“I'm sorry…” You bit your bottom lip, fighting the urge to laugh at him some more. He was adorable.

“As I was saying,” he continued, trying to sound annoyed, but a hint of a smile threatened to break on his lips, and he didn't pull away when you approached him nor he did when you wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your chin on his chest, looking up at him, adoringly. He looked down, meeting your gaze,  “I… I love you. I love you too. God, it just feels so good to say that!”

You giggled, again. God, he could never get used to that sound.

“And I’m sorry for being so mean to you when I was frustrated. I should have been more patient and my unthoughtful words hurt you.” You kept silent, remembering his words. “I—I’ll spend the rest of my life apologizing if you’ll have me.” He added, intimidated by your gaze.

Silence. “Well, I accept your apologies. I was unfair to you as well. And you know where I stand when it comes to you. My feelings, I mean.”

“I do… But…”

“But?”

“I'd like to hear you say it.”

“Say what?”

“That you love me?”

“I don't know. Do I, really?” You joked.

He blushed furiously, ready to stutter himself out of that situation. “No, I mean… you—you said that—that you remembered what you said last night and… so… putting two and two…”

Another giggle interrupted him. You traced his jawline, leaning up to kiss his right cheek. “I really, really love you.” A kiss to his left cheek. He chuckled. “I love you.” A kiss on the tip of his nose, to which he snorted, totally lovestruck. “So much.” A lingering, tender kiss to his forehead. He closed his eyes, already anticipating the next spot you would press your soft lips to.

As you made your way to finally kiss his lips, you decided to tease him and let him wait for a bit longer. Spencer groaned in protest and you chuckled a bit, finally deciding that it was enough. Pressing your lips to the corner of his mouth, making him sigh, you were thrilling on making him more and more eager. His grip on you tightened just slightly as he let out a shaky breath. You wanted to laugh, but instead, you poked fun at him. “Now you know what it's like to be teased.”

“I love you. Oh, Jesus… You're driving me insane. You're here… And you, you're you…”

You grinned, looking up at him, finally, finally pressing your lips to his. As you let out a small sigh, his breath hitched, both of you utterly drowning in relief and satisfaction. You pulled back a bit, grinning, going back to kissing him. Spencer's hands found your jawline, sliding back to tangle in your hair as he sucked your bottom lip into his mouth. Parting your lips slightly, you granted him full access to kiss you properly, and he moaned at the taste of you, gripping your hair rougher than before. You groaned softly, and he proudly heard and swallowed all your small sounds.

The ring of a phone broke the urgent atmosphere that was building between you two. Spencer ignored it, letting it ring until you pulled away, gasping for air. As you did, the noise stopped and you met his lost eyes, totally dumbstruck, and you laughed because you probably looked the same way. He gave you a charming, lopsided grin, too stupid, too hypnotized to say anything.

The phone began ringing again. “Son of a…!” he cursed, picking up the phone. “Hi, this is Dr. Spencer Reid and unless this is an absolute emergency, I'm kinda busy—”

“Reid.” Aaron Hotchner's firm voice hit Spencer like a bucket of cold water. Widening his eyes, he gulped.

“Yes… sir?” You smiled at that. Of course you knew who he was talking to.

“We have a new case.” Hotch announced.

“Oh… okay… I, um, I—I'll be there in 20.”

Silence.

“Is everything okay, Reid?” Hotchner could read anyone, Spencer was now sure of that. Even through the goddamned phone.

“Wh—yeah, yeah… Everything's… totally f—fine.” He cursed under his breath as you gripped his vest, trying not to laugh.

“Do you know where she is?” Hotch inquired after another moment of quietness. 

“Who?” He squeaked. You chuckled silently.

“My daughter.” Of course it was his daughter.

Playing dumb is not a good look on you, you mouthed.

“N—no… I haven't… heard from her.”

“Sure.” Hotch said, skeptically. Spencer could feel the sweat on his forehead. After a moment, your father finished the call with an unreadable “We need to talk.”

Once the phone call ended, you burst out laughing at Spencer's reaction. “Not funny.” He protested, a frown on his face and a soft smile betraying his faux frustration.

“Come on, it is funny.”

He glared at you. “What do you think he wants to talk about?”

“I don't know. Men talk. I wouldn't want to get involved.” You said, grinning, pulling him by his vest.

He squeezed his eyes shut, relishing in the feeling of having you so close. “Do you think he knows?”

“Of course he knows.”

“How are you so collected?”

“Because I'm not the one he's going to scare to death, apparently.”

“He said ‘we’ need to talk. Emphasizing ‘we’. If he knows you’re here, then it probably—” you cut him off with a kiss.

“Well, then… Are you ready to face your biggest fear? The frightening Aaron Hotchner?”

Glancing at you adoringly, he chuckled. “I’d face him and whoever, whatever, a thousand times, if it meant that I could get you in the end.”

—

A couple days after the case, you and Spencer meet again, in your apartment. Sitting down on the couch, you ask him, amusedly, “Do you think he noticed?” 

“Totally. I could barely look him in the eye for the first moments,” He said with a fond smile, hiding from you the fact that he had awkwardly and bravely spoken to your dad about your relationship. You laughed, placing your legs on the top of his legs. “I guess we should thank Lila, after all.” He joked, and you laughed out loud. 

Leaning him closer to him, grabbing his chin and looking deep into his eyes, you muttered, “Don’t ever say her name again, Spence.”

Your wish was always his command. It would always be.

[thanosscross]

In my club - Choi Seung Hyun/ T.O.P x reader- Part four

Summary: With tour coming up, Seung Hyun realizes he can't leave without knowing if he'd ever see you again, leading you to a very exciting Monday night

Warnings: Nothin really :)

Whenever you woke up the next morning, you were immediately holding your breath, noticing that you and Seung Hyun were tangled with one another under the blankets, Seung Hyun's arms wrapped around you tightly as if you were his own personal teddy bear. Trying to take a deep breath in, you mistakenly took a sharp inhale, causing the man who was sleeping so peacefully before to jolt awake thinking something was wrong.

Looking around Seung Hyun sighed, letting his head fall back onto the pillow, loosening his hold on your waist, but keeping it draped over your hips tiredly "Everything okay, beautiful?" He asked softly, his voice deep and gravely from just waking up and most likely drinking the night before. "Y-yea" You mumbled nervously, making your way out of his bed, your cheeks burning with a blush as you rushed downstairs, desperate to get away to process what you just woke up to. Seeing your panicked state, Ji-Yong was quick to wrap his arm around your waist pulling you back towards him "You woke up with him, didn't you?" He smirked, teasing you slightly "You know..He likes you, y/n, Seung Hyun has been different since he saw you in the club the first time" He explained, the smirk never leaving his face as you blushed, glancing towards the bedroom door where you heard Seung Hyun's footsteps walking around. "We're just having fun, it's not like that" You giggled, finding it sweet Ji-yong was so concerned with helping his friend find somebody. Before you could leave for downstairs, you were stopped by the same person you were trying to avoid "Hey, can we, go somewhere and talk?" Seung Hyun asked sheepishly, not liking the way you now made him nervous, but he persisted, knowing their international tour was about to start and he didn't want to risk leaving without knowing if he'd see you again.

Sitting at the small private coffee shop, you glanced around at everything smiling "It's so pretty here.." You stated as you took in all of the flowers and how the sunlight bounced perfectly off of the decor outside making a rainbow hue reflection on to the tables. "How do you think they thought of this place?..Like do you think it was just a they got everything as they went or do you think they planned this all out..because it's breathtaking" You whispered in awe, tilting your head slighting gasping whenever you your perspective shifted the image you saw through the crystal decor on the table, seeing a beautiful detailed engraving of the stars and moon. Seung Hyun couldn't help but watch in awe as you swooned over his favorite 'chill spot', coming here often before and after tours to just read and think of new raps, here you were treating everything like it had been your first time seeing true beauty. "you know..this is the most you've spoken to me sober..I was starting to think you didn't like me unless you were drunk" He teased, hiding his feelings to what he thought was perfectly, and anybody who wasn't you would've noticed immediately Seung Hyun was starting to lead on to something more with you, but you were oblivious, to flustered and enthralled with everything around you to notice, your life had changed significantly in the last few days, going from spending your free time either partying with your friends or sitting in your apartment that you shared with said friends, watching tv shows and different youtube videos you found, to partying with a famous K-pop group and sleeping with one of the biggest rappers in k-pop currently.

As you both spoke, you had agreed you didn't want the fun you were having to end so soon, so you agreed to follow them on tour, I mean, free V.I.P tickets to concerts, plus getting to see Seung Hyun more, and a vacation? Where were the cons?

A con? Flying. You hated it, couldn't stand it, between your fear of heights and the getting motion sickness very easily, flying was like your mortal enemy. Walking onto the plane you kept your headphones placed on your head, trying to keep yourself distracted from the fact you were allowing yourself to become trapped in an enclosed space that was soon to be thousands of the feet in the air, with absolutely no escape. Sitting down in your seat you glanced around, it was first class, allowing a lot more room for you, but it didn't change where you were. As the plane took off you tried your best to stay calm, digging your nails in the armrests as you squeezed your eyes shut tightly. Ji-Yong was the first to notice you, followed by Tae-Yang, Dae-sung and Seung Hyun having a conversation a row ahead "Seung hyun" He whispered leaning forward trying to get his friends attention, knowing if he got you through this, you'd most likely warm up to him when sober. Eventually as the plane had a bit of rough turbulence Seung Hyun turned his attention back towards the others, Ji-Yong shooting him an annoyed look before nodding to you. You resembled somebody going on a scary rollercoaster waiting for the drop, you were curled up in your seat holding onto the armrests with your head turned towards the side, your face scrunched in fear as you squeezed your eyes shut tightly, trying to calm your breathing and not freak out as the plane got higher and higher. You yelped feeling two hands rest on yours "Beautiful.." Seung Hyun whispered, you turned your hands to hold his, not wanting him to think you were ignoring him, but you were too terrified to move or speak, Seung Hyun squeezed your hands gently, smiling softly "There you are, I thought we lost you there for a moment, why didn't you tell anybody you were scared of flying?" He asked, waiting for the seatbelt to actually shut off before undoing your seatbelt, switching you spots before having you sit back down on his lap as he hugged you, he wasn't sure what you were feeling, but he knew most times he felt anxious, all he really wanted was a patient hug. Your hands gripped onto his jacket tightly, almost like you'd fall out if you didn't, Seung Hyun just held onto your body gently, talking you through the flight, even getting to a point where you felt comfortable enough to open the window shade to see the sky "See?...Sometimes.. you have to go through scary things to get to the beautiful things" He whispered quietly pointing towards the clouds.

You were somewhat calm the rest of the flight, once you were landed you were all rushed off to the arena, watching the boys rehearse for the first time was an experience for you, they had purposely had you move from V.I.P to the barricades for different songs, claiming that they had to get an idea of where they needed to be to interact with fans. Seung Hyun couldn't help but notice the way you watched them, your face mimicking the same face you had whenever you were at the coffee shop with him, watching in pure awe and amazement as they moved and sang. As they finished their rehearsal you noticed Seung Hyun's eyes on you the entire time he made his way back down to you "Y/nnnn! Y/n! You like? You like, Y/n?" He smirked strutting down the stairs before stopping in front of you, smiling at your flustered expression, looking everywhere except for him, you giggled loudly before nodding "Yes, yes I like, You guys were awesome!" You giggled, grabbing his arms gently as you bounced on your heels with excitement, not being able to wait for the actual show.

Whenever it got closer to the time of the show Ji-Yong and Seung Hyun had a security guard walk you to your seat in V.I.P, standing not far from your seat as he followed the instructions given. As Seung Hyun and the others walked out he quickly met your eyes, sending you a smirk and wink before making his way past the V.I.P section. It was the first and coolest V.I.P you had ever had, the section being on an actual part of the stage they boys were on, as you listened to the boys you couldn't help blush whenever you heard Seung Hyun's deep voice go through the speakers as he rapped for Fantastic Baby, purposely turning his head to look at you anytime he'd say 'wow, fantastic baby'. Seung Hyun wasn't the only person focusing on you throughout the show, anytime the boys had free time between verses or whenever they didn't have a verse in a song they'd be in V.I.P taking turns dancing with you and others, As Seung Hyun sang along to Turn it up loud he spotted Ji-Yong dancing with you, spinning you around as you giggled softly hiding your face quickly as you noticed Ji-yong's dancing had landed you both on the giant screen behind you.

Seung Hyun watched raising his eyebrows as Dae-Sung shook his head, taking your hand from Ji-Yong, spinning you around to face, placing both hands on his chest before holding your hips swaying to the beat of the music, you had to hide your blush as you made eye contact with Seung Hyun's curious gaze. As the song ended and Knock out started to play, Seung Hyun made his way over to you, making sure to shuffle his feet to the beat, stumbling purposely as he started his verse, waving his hand at the side of his face before Ji-Yong took over. He was quick to take your hand in his, pulling you closer to him before mouthing the words 'let me teach you' to Dae-Sung, he wrapped your arm around his neck and shoulders as he pressed his hips into yours swaying to the beat, smirking at he brought the microphone to his lips, feeling confident as he stayed on beat while hitting every note to his second verse. By the time the song was over you were sitting back down trying to hide your face from the obvious blush, watching as they preformed more of their songs, some of them you recognized from the club. You were having a lot of fun, starting to realize maybe you should let yourself get drunk a little more often if it meant meeting people like Seung Hyun, and the boys.

As the show got closer to the end you noticed the beat to the song from the other night start to play, watching Seung Hyun smirk with Ji-Yong they stood on their marks, getting ready for the cue of Bae Bae to start so Ji-Yong could start. You smiled to yourself, swaying your body to Ji-Yong's first and second verse, watching him move slowly down the stage reaching for other fans' hands before Seung Hyun started rapping, hopping and spinning to your chair again, whenever Ji-yong started singing again, Seung took his chance to grab your hand gently, swaying the both of you until the chorus started again. You knew there were three songs left afterwards, Tonight, If you, and Last Dance, thanks to Dae-sung you were learning their song names as they preformed them.

Listening to If you and Last Dance you kept your eyes on Seung Hyun, feeling a wave of relaxation wash over you whenever you heard his soft voice actually sing instead of rap, your stares didn't go unnoticed though, almost every boy in the group noticed your longing glances that you gave their friend anytime he was singing.

Hearing Tonight play for the first time you were quick to start moving with the music, giggling as you saw Seung Hyun nodding along with your movements as he started to make his way over, stopping a few way he smirked motioning you to come over to him. You stood up nervously, looking into his eyes it felt like your nerves were vanishing, forgetting the circumstances and how many people were actually watching you slowly made your way over to him, thankful for V.I.P serving alcohol during the show, you weren't drunk yet, just tipsy enough to start ignoring your anxieties. As you spun your hips you squealed feeling Seung Hyun take your hand in his pulling you to his chest as he looked at you smirking "Just like at home right?" He asked, moving hips with yours as you rolled them forward with Ji-yong's verse. You just nodded smiling as you spun around, giggling as he raised both of his and your hand up to help you spin, as the ending chorus came, you jumped around in his hold, his hands steadying your hips before he held you down on your feet before pulling you close raising the microphone "Tonight?..Such a beautiful night" He whispered before sighing into the microphone, spinning his hand in yours to motion you could sit back down, as you turned away he smirked "Goodnight" He whispered before blowing a kiss into the microphone and walking towards their original mark to exit and enter the show.

As they were lowered back down you walked in pure shock, their bodyguard ghosting his hand over your shoulder as he led you off of the stage and back towards the backstage door that was kept locked for obvious reasons, as the boys saw you walk through the door they rushed over "So!? What'd you think? First BigBang show!" Ji-Yong cheered, laughing at your shocked expression "Wow...just wow" You replied looking at them all "It was amazing! You guys were amazing! Oh my god!" You smiled cheering, Seung Hyun blushed, taking your compliments personally as if he was the only the one in the room "You were amazing! Whenever you and Seung Hyun started dancing together for tonight!? You two really made it feel like a night club!" Dae-sung shouted excitedly, holding your hands tightly, you smiled hugging your friend tightly "Thank you! I was nervous at first, I don't know how you guys are so confident with preforming! That was terrifying having so many people watching!" You giggled, pulling away from the hug to look at Seung Hyun, a blush painted brightly on his cheeks "Why didn't you tell me you could do more than rap?" You asked playfully, immediately losing all confidence and becoming flustered again whenever he smiled sheepishly placing his hand on your lower back "Seung Hyun is shy when he sings!" Tae-Yang explained, smiling whenever his friend glared at him for putting him on the spot "Don't be..it's really pretty" You smiled, feeling confident enough to take his hand in yours "What else do you have to do?" you added on, holding his hand close to your chest, pressed against your heart as you glanced around for any signs of somebody waiting for them "We have to get our things together, and go back to the hotel" Seung Hyun explained, pressing his lips to your forehead gently causing you to become a flustered mess again, he couldn't help it, he liked watching you rush away blushing and stuttering, stealing glances at him before you both found each other again.

As you got back to your floor on the hotel room you froze watching all four boys continue to walk past you "Excuse you, if you want me here, one of you better be bunking with me" You stated, blushing whenever Seung Hyun took it upon himself to turn his friends back around towards their room as he made his way back to you "Sorry, beautiful" He whispered, you went quiet as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders leading you into your now shared hotel room.

--

You like? ;)

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Taglist!!

@ag022123

@acehasmyheart

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[verlaineszz]

ᯓ★ CEMETERY LADY! MY CEMETERY GIRL! ~

( ၴႅၴ+ —YANDERE!NIKOLAI GOGOL! x YANDERE!ZOMBIE!FEM!READER!

SUMMARY: Your name.. Written in beautiful dark crimson red ink, a psychopathic clown has taken a liking to a lady. A lady that he found so utterly beautiful, a beauty of imperfections that nikolai found oh so perfect. But a tragedy has struck him, before he could continue his obsessive motivs and plans, bang! You were dead, but that didn't stop you from laying on your casket. you had unfinished buisness, which is your undying love and obsession that made you crawl out of limbo and find your beloved once again.

ᯓ ⁺₊ ♱ .ᐟ— DEAD DOVE+ ROMANCE + YANDEREAU! + SUGGESTIVE! + SMUT! (seperate maybe, i might make it but it will be linked in between the scene when its starts, you may find it at @heartz4verlaineszz, my freak acc)

MDNI!!

A/N: mutual yandere btw! Nikolai was already obsessively inlove with reader when reader was still alive and this works to reader too, reader has always been obsessively inlove with him too, also possessive reader and nikolai :P and this fic is shorter than my other fics

(art by CREATNZY)

๋࣭ ⭑♡WARNINGS! : suggestive, blood, yandere themes, swearing, obsessive themes, collecting of each others belongings, initial skin ingraving, pet names (Moya Lyubov (my love), Moya pitchka(my little bird), milaya (sweetheart))

Ah, love. Something foreign to nikolai, not until he laid his eyes on you. What a beautiful lady! Your imperfections had him infatuated with you, to your personality and to your hyperfixations, how cute.

Everything was going so well for nikolai, he stalked all your posts. Checked up on your phone history by hacking into it when you had your screen protector replaced for being too clumsy and dropping it.. He also went as far on stealing your clothing and buying the same perfume that you wear.. It was eating his heart away, the thought of feeling you near him made him just wanna squeel and giggle uncontrollably. Not until he heard you got into an accident and died.. He misses you so baddddddd!

Your funeral was being held soon, he sighs and lays on his bed with his hand on his forehead, not really having motivation to do anything. What shall he do now? He doesn't have a purpose anymore really.. To be frank, his life objective was to be with you. With you gone.. He thought that if you're gone now, might as well meet you in the afterlife as well.. But, not yet. He has to feel you at least once, even if you're already dead. He sits up with his back slouched, lookin around his room, fully decorated with candid pictures of you and a big shelf with your belongings, to your used plastic water bottles, lock of hair displayed in a gold picture frame with red wallpaper, your bras, shirts, makeup, jewelry.. Anything that you've touched really.. He smirks after seeing your stuff, he stands up and grabs your shirt and bra before stuffing his face in em, laying back down on his bed and sniffing your faint scent, "mmm", he mewled out before sighing and sliding your shirt and bra off his face.. His expression bored and numb, he missed you so much, he would be lying if he said he wasn't devastated. He hasn't eaten all day since normally he'd be stalking you at this hour.

He eventually sits up after hours of whining and smothering your used shirt and bras with his face. He thought at first that now your dead, he'd finally be free.. Oh but he was so wrong! The thought of not watching you and never being yours pained him. More than the thought of him never being free. It made him wanna dig his nails into his skin and scratch the meat off his bones off!

The grandfather clock on the wall ticking made him feel more restless, he slides his shoes on before leaving his place. The walk to the place where your casket is was no biggie, he kept his expression was bored and a void as he walked, different than his usual excited and smiley expression. As he reached your funeral, he stays behind the trees for a while, alot of your family members and friends were still crying and wheeping as they surrounded your casket, your burial was just a few days away, he still has time to make you his cemetery baby.

A few hours later, nightfall came, your family members and friends have finally came home! Leaving your body and him outside. He smirks as he stood up from his hiding spot and walked over to your gorgeous fuckin body that was laying peaceful in the casket. He lets out a few giggles, his eyes filled with excitement, his fingers twitched to touch you, he sees your pretty face taking it into his hands and caressing your cheek before leaning your head back, noticing how they didn't even try to put on the correct makeup style you liked. He quickly applied some lippie that he stole from you a few weeks ago, changing your lipstick before quickly kissing you hard. Chuckling into the kiss softly before setting your head down gently, your body was a little rusty so he had to be extra careful with his beloved.

"Ah.. There you go, you look more you now.. How stupid of those people to not know what your lip color preferences are." he talks to himself while staring down at your face,mocking the way your own family didn't even put on the correct lippie on, slowly lacing his hand to hold yours. Your hand cold as ever, he smiles to himself, kissing your knuckles.. Noticing how cold your hand was compared to his warm large ones. "hm.. Its okay, I'll warm you up!" he whispers and giggles, his eyes half lidded but filled with hunger.

He kisses your knuckles slowly before sliding in a ring to your ring finger. A beautiful red ruby gem, a red that was red to be the same shade of your own blood. He smiles sweetly at your calm face, the smile radiating a sense of insanity and obsession to it while he caresses your hair and cheek sweetly, "Moya ptichka.." he whispers sweetly as he gives your hand another kiss with his eyes staring at your eye shut face, "This isn't goodbye, I'll see you once again, milaya."

⁺‧₊˚ஓ༻𓆩♡𓆪༺ஓ˚₊‧⁺

At your perspective, your soul was still stuck at limbo, unaware that nikolai was already giving you what you craved for. Limbo was tough. Fog and mindless spirits everywhere, it made you irritated at how lost you were, but of course nothing was ever gonna stop you from digging out of your grave and watch him again.

Now.. Back to nikolai. It was already the next day, he only came to visit your body at night. Where nobody was around. It was the last day of your body staying on land before you get buried 6 feet below. He brought a few things with him, a dagger, a locket filled with his and your hair and some other questionable trinkets.

The foggy and dark night could be frightening for some, especially at the cemetery. But not for him, he brought a lantern to see your face just in case! As he ran over to your casket with an undying hungry smile, he jumps in joy in seeing you up close again. "Moya Lyubov!" he takes your hand gently, it was his last day on meeting your body physically. He snaked his hands to your hand, kissing your knuckles once again before tying a red ribbon around your wrist to mark you.

His gaze was pressuring against your unconscious body, the fog and darkness surrounding you and him was unbearable, the only light source around was his lantern that he brought that illuminated his hungry gaze and your gorgeous face.

A tune in his head played, an urge to hold you close and waltz in eloquence to prove how much he adored you. Though your skin was rotting piece by piece, your cheek stayed fresh as ever, he caressed your cheek in obsession, "still forever soft for me."

The fog and darkness really gave nikolai an advantage of not being seen, one of his hands slowly snaked down to your thigh, pushing your dress up and squeezing it with hunger, "The world has been so cruel to you, milaya." he whispered, talking to himself while you struggled in limbo to leave and see him even while you were dead. "But.. Even in death, you belong to me." he smirks, a smirk that could've haunted lots of individuals but it was also a smirk that was meant for you. For you to remember and burn into memory.

A few hours has already passed, with him just sitting on the edge of your casket and holding you gently while talking to himself all obsessed like he was talking to you. "Even if death make us part, you'll forever still be mine."

He caressed your cheek, holding you gently to avoid hurting your dead body, "Remember when you first started wearing that lipgloss and that perfume? Oh you are a gorgeous little thing. I couldn't stop staring! You were perfect just like how perfect you are right now." he talks to himself again, giggling and remembering how you smiled when you found something funny, another reason why he wanted to have you as his dear lady. Your looks just add to your eccentric and unique dear personality you know?

With the last few hours of the night fell down so the sun could rise, he held your thigh tightly, "Moya Lyubov, im sure you wouldn't mind having a symbol of me with you forever right?" he giggled, slipping a dagger in his hand, "This might hurt.. Apologies in advance." he whispers near your ear before slowly but surely engraving his initials on your upper thigh, gently wiping the blood of, whispering apologies and cooing, obviously you felt nothing since your soul was still at limbo. "Mm..you're so pretty. I'm sorry it hurts milaya." he coos at you, caressing your cheek and giving your thigh a quick kiss before covering you up again with your dress.

he quickly leaves the dagger under the pillow that was cushioned below your head, a symbol of him giving his dagger to you. he slowly slid the locket with his hair and your hair around your neck. As the daylight rose up, he kisses your forehead before slipping off after hearing your family members talking and their heavy footsteps.

He slips off to the nearby forest, waiting for your burial. Time passed as he got in disguised to look more like your..friends. Your casket was about to be buried. affirmations filled his head,

"I love you, I love you,I love you,I love you,I love you,I love you, I love you,I love you,I love you,I love you,I love you, I love you,I love you,I love you,I love you,"

he repeats in his head like a mantra, he takes a step near your casket, dressed in black suit,white jabot with a red ruby brooch and his hair all inside in his black top hat to conceal his long braided hair. Everyone stared at him, assuming he was one of your close friends since he held a dark red rose. Your casket slowly lowered down into the 6 feet deep hole, he throws the rose to your closed casket, "Death will not end us or stop me. We will be reunited milaya,"

At your point of view now, you successfully escaped limbo. The limbo that had a blueish tint, fog, mindless spirits that has been driven into insanity from how long they have stayed in limbo, and the murky floors that made you feel all icky at the sensation of sludge. In an attempt to leave this foggy void your will and unfinished business on earth gave you the strength to escape and return back from the dead.

⁺‧₊˚ஓ༻𓆩♡𓆪༺ஓ˚₊‧⁺

A few days has passed, a rotting feeling ate nikolai alive, oh god he needed to see you. His heart was beating so fast, only thinking about you whenever he gazed at the grass or that photo of you sleeping in your room. A photo that he adored so dearly. He thought he'd go off fine and be free but this thought of having your body with him eternally wouldn't seem like such a bad idea..that's why he packed a shovel. 2:55 AM, he snuck off, running to the cemetery on where you were buried. He slowly stood on top of your grave, extending his arm to get something from his cloak. He tapped his foot as he grabbed around before grabbing out the shovel and a lantern. He sets the lantern down and began to dig rapidly.

Pants and huffs and the sound of soil thudding could be heard, he digged and digged before hitting a "clink!", your casket, the sound of his metal shovel and your casket clanging, he smirks, sweat beading off his forehead, he sighs and let's the shovel go, letting his ability to push you into the land above. "We'll be together again Moya pitchka!" he laughs, Panting with a love dazed expression.

He sticked his tongue out in concentration as he pushed your casket into the portal, as he successfully got you on land, he wasted no time to open your casket, only to find that your body was gone.

Nikolais eyes widened, what happened to his lady!? Even the dagger he hid under your pillow was gone! He places his hand under his chin, thinking on who could've kidnapped your body. Nobody was around your grave for the past few days, who could've done it?

⁺‧₊˚ஓ༻ 𓆩♡𓆪༺ஓ˚₊‧⁺

Back at nikolais house, you were running into the woods, his dagger in your hand and your dress dirty from the soil that you climb out of, a few stumbles and runs you reached his place. With a quick climb of a window and expecting to see him, you found the house to be empty. You scratch your head and sigh in dissapointment, quickly moving back to ur apartment to change and quickly sneak back in to his room, so far so good. Nothing has changed. It was weird how you have never seen him sleep on his own bed. You look around, looking at his weird trinkets before reaching his closet, opening it and collecting some of his clothing before tripping on one of the gloves that fell to the floor, "oh-!" you land with your face against the wall of the closet before hearing the sound it made. It sounded like..it was hollow inside. You quickly stand up and dusted yourself, with a knock to test it to its fullest, you find a socket. You put your fingers in the rectangular socket, pushing it to the side to reveal a staircase, you smile proudly after seeing this, has your dear nikolai have been hiding a secret room? Perhaps it was a room full of more of his stuff. You waltz down the stairs, singing a soft tune, your voice having a hint of curiosity as you mutter to yourself, "Now now, i wonder what this room could b-! Oh."

You expected the room to be filled with more of his stuff, either it be more of his hats, clown makeup, guns, and other trinkets you can "borrow", you find yourself staring at the things that You own. The walls a dark crimson red and rosewood floors, and tons of big wooden shelves against the walls, all containing each of your missing things. Your lacy bras, Your used lipsticks , your panties, shirts, gloves you worn, used pillow cases, your pens, the old phone you had. You get the point. The walls were adorned of hundreds of candid photographs of you, one of the bigger picture was in gold frame. a picture of you sleeping and Nikolai in the corner as if he took a selfie and printed the picture out to have it all framed and pretty..Then you realized,the bedroom that you've been stalking and watching was just a decoy.. A decoy to hide his undying obsession of you.

you looked around the shelves and seeing the tons of bottles of your favorite perfume distracted from the feeling of your beloved nikolai having an infatuation of you,large hands began to wrap around your waist "Oh.. There you are milaya." he whispers into your ear,pressing your back against his chest,a haunting sweet smile spread across his lips as he leaned closer to you snaking his free hand to grab your hand "You're not supposed to be here you know?.." he pouted sarcastically before laughing "Moya pitchka don't run away from me..You can see how much I adore you." he whispered, his voice cooing and desperate while he was caressing his hand to your waist then down to your hips..your breath hitches as you feel his touch. Your gaze brightens up, letting him touch you freely, "Oh.. Hello my dear kolya." you gently taking his hand.

he grabbed your hand back swiftly,he quickly spins you around,your back hitting the wall and his knee in between your thighs..He had a hand on your hips tightly.. tight enough to leave a bruise on your skin You gasp at the impact huffing from the tension you've been caught. But you just can't help but enjoy this moment.. he had a hand on your hip and his other hand on your thigh,gripping it tightly and huffing, "I missed you so damn fucking much.." he kissed your neck, huffing and holding you tightly as if you would dissappear if he loosened his grip. "You wouldn't understand how much i love you, it hurts milaya." he whispers into your ear in between his soft neck and collarbones kisses, his kisses always changing into soft and gentle to rough and desperate.

You look down, not resisting but rather wrapping your arms around his neck, the dagger he left you in one of your hands, the blade was near his pulse, close enough to end his life before you sweetly say, "But i do understand. I missed you too." with those 4 words falling from your lips,his eyes widened. You weren't frightened or screaming like he thought you would, his wide eyes changed into a smile, a cheeky hungry smile. Perhaps this was a new reason on why he adores you damn fucking much.

He quickly pressed his lips against yours roughly, gripping onto your thigh and waist tightly, "Oh, baby, You dont know much i need you." he says in between kisses, slowly sliding his large hand around your inner thigh, lifting your thigh up, his other hand on your waist to support you standing. His voice turned into breathey, his voice evident with need and desperation, his grip on your thigh tightening, as if you were gonna disappear again if he loosend his grip, "Please.. Please, milaya, let me show you how much i adore you." he panted out in between kisses desperately, you huff and you gripped on to his shoulders, the dagger near his neck falling onto the ground, clinging and thudding from the fall. He leaned closee to your ear, whispering sweetly, his voice sweet as honeydew but breathey and desperate too. "See? I told you death wouldn't keep us apart.. Now.. Let me show you what dreams are made of."

A/N: lol idk if i should write the smut part, just comment if you want it, also.. When i was first and originally writing this I ACCIDENTALLY DIDN'T SAVE THE DRAFT SO I HAD TO REWRITE IT ALL AGAIN.. ACCORDING TO MY MEMORY.. GRRRRR.... but anyway, enjoy!

[midnightry]

Unlikely chords

Suguru Geto x fem! reader

Synopsis: Y/N, the dedicated and reserved president of the student body at a prestigious conservatory, reluctantly agrees to step out of her comfort zone and attend a party with her best friend, Katie. At the chaotic gathering, she’s caught off guard when Suguru Geto, the charming and notorious first cellist, offers an unexpected escape.

CW: Usage of Y/n, misunderstandings, fluff, usage of nicknames (pretty, sweetheart, feisty), Music AU, curses don’t exist.

Word count: 1134

As president of the student body at your conservatory, you made it your mission to help every college student in need. It wasn’t just a passion; it was a love for your community and the music that bound you all together. To everyone around you, you were a prized figure—well-respected, reliable, and thoroughly dedicated. But, to be honest, you also had a reputation as a bit of a "goody two-shoes." You didn’t have a single "party bone" in your body, and people often gossiped about your reluctance to attend the parties hosted by half of the student body.

"Come on, Y/N, please, go to this party with me!" Katie pleaded, practically bouncing on her toes. "You need to get out of your shell for once... maybe find a guy. Girl, you really need to get laid."

Katie wasn’t wrong. You did need to get out more, and you really wanted to do something different. It wasn’t exactly peer pressure, but a realization that maybe you were holding yourself back. After all, college was a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

You sighed, pausing to think it over. Katie watched you with hopeful eyes, clearly excited by the prospect.

"Fine... but only under one condition."

Katie’s eyes lit up. "I’m willing to do anything. Just go with me!"

“I get to leave whenever I want. No forcing me to stay past my limit," you said, giving her a mock glare of defeat.

“Deal! I’ll text you the details. Oh, and you should wear something... sexy. Maybe he will be there,” Katie smirked as she walked out of your dorm room.

He. Suguru Geto—the ultimate party playboy, known for his wild ways and his ability to charm just about anyone. Despite his reckless lifestyle, he was also the first cellist in the conservatory orchestra. People either loved or hated him, no in-between. He was charismatic, charming, and a bit of a jerk—but for some reason, you couldn’t help but be intrigued. You’d crossed paths with him a few times in the conservatory, where both of you had to work together on occasion. Your professor believed the cello and the voice shared a certain connection, so you often found yourselves collaborating. You’d spoken to him just enough to know he was unpredictable, and admittedly... there was something about him.

The dreaded night had arrived. Your palms were sweaty as you slipped into the tight black dress Katie had accidentally bought in your size. To anyone else, it was like a new version of you had emerged—more confident, more daring. You stepped outside the sorority house, the front lawn littered with drunk students. You tried to block them out as you walked up the steps.

"Where is Katie?" you muttered, checking your phone again. Still no word.

She better not have fallen asleep again... She had a habit of taking pre-party naps, hoping to survive the night.

"Is my mind playing tricks on me... or is that Y/N L/N standing in the middle of a rager?" came a teasing voice from behind you.

Oh no…

You froze. "You've got to be kidding me."

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look this... hot. It suits you, sweetheart,” a voice whispered in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. You could feel his presence close behind you, his torso brushing against your back. The scent of sandalwood filled your senses, and his breath against your ear made your pulse quicken. A faint blush spread across your cheeks.

"Suguru! Personal space, please and thank you." You turned to face him, meeting his purple eyes with a mix of dread and annoyance.

“I didn’t expect to see you here, pretty. You’re usually... a wet noodle,” Suguru smirked. His smile softened when he noticed how uncomfortable you seemed, the nervous sway in your posture. It almost seemed to dampen his own party mood.

“Waiting for someone?” he asked, genuinely curious.

You sighed, checking your phone once more. “I was... but I just got a text saying they can't make it. I guess I’m leaving. Have fun with the party.”

Suguru’s interest piqued. “Not so fast, feisty. How about we grab some ice cream instead?” He looked at you with an expression that was almost childishly hopeful.

“Why the hell would you want to do that with me?”

“Well, for starters, you look like you're about to burst from discomfort. And let’s be real—the party’s kind of dying anyway, so we can just leave together,” he shrugged, his casual demeanor catching you off guard.

“Plus, who doesn’t like ice cream, right?” he added, a playful glint in his eye.

This wasn’t the Suguru that everyone gossiped about. The guy who was a complete jerk seemed to be... well, not entirely what he appeared to be. This version of him was strange, but kind of... nice. You were intrigued.

“Fine. But we’re walking, because I don’t know how much you’ve had to drink, and I don’t feel like getting into a motorcycle crash tonight.”

You walked out of the door with Suguru following closely behind, not missing a beat. The walk was quiet, the only sound coming from your shoes tapping against the soft pavement. The cool air was refreshing, and both of you seemed to appreciate the calm, starry sky above.

"My cello sound has always reminded me of the night—dark, sensual, cold... beautiful in a way that's hard to describe. But your voice... it reminds me of a warm, dimly lit sunset. I’ve never heard anything like it." Suguru’s sudden comment threw you off guard. He stopped walking, his eyes now focused on you, searching for something.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is... I can’t get your voice out of my head. I can’t get you out of my head.”

The silence between you grew thick. You couldn’t find the words at first.

"Suguru..." was all you could manage, staring at him in disbelief as he moved closer, his scent enveloping you once more.

“I know what people say about me. I was like that too... but your voice—it woke something in me. I really like you, Y/N.” His words caught you off guard, and you couldn’t help but feel a rush of emotions swirling within you. Was this real? Was this actually happening?

“I… like you too, Suguru... but maybe you should sober up before we have a conversation like this,” you said, trying to be rational, wanting to hear him out when he wasn’t clouded by alcohol.

He rolled his eyes with a grin. “I suppose you’re right.”

Suddenly, your stomach growled loudly, breaking the tension. Suguru laughed, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. “I think that’s a sign. Ice cream time?”

“I could definitely go for some,” you chuckled, your laughter blending with the cool night air.

…………………………………..

Thank you so much for reading!! Feedback is greatly appreciated!

❤️

-R

[nobodybetterlookatme]

pls just be wary of him he’s a lot older than you and that’s not always bad but the way he keeps giving you plushies is sending off warning bells from other stories i’ve heard. again not inherently bad, he sounds sweet and that’s probably all it is, but just make sure he doesn’t start making comments about how young you look or anything like that. i know you’ve said in the past that the age thing doesn’t bother you but you still wanna stay careful

This actually is the first thing he's given me that wasn't either food or something for work ahdkaksk it's not like a regular thing so no worries there. Also it was less bc it was a date and more bc my bday is in a week and I'm not gonna be seeing him until after so he just gave it to me now bc it was convenient lmaooo. I'm being careful tho, like I'm naturally sus of men especially bc of ✨ the trauma ✨ but I really don't think he's a bad dude

[mad-hunts]

so... i've been thinking about auriel again because i actually did have an account for her once upon a time (just on another platform) + all i can remember is doing this roleplay on there with barton immediately asking the person whom told him they saw her was whether she was okay because she had went missing with no trace for years after all. and additionally, this was also while shedding tears like there was NO tomorrow, which is 😭 like he isn't a good person, y'all, but he does have his moments where it actually seems like he genuinely cares about people

[cave-monkey]

It dawns on me that the journey to the west took 5,040 days exactly, right, and while the book goes from tribulation to tribulation, there were still only 81 of those. And they were missing one when they got there. And some of the tribulations Tripitaka went through happened before the journey even started.

So, even being generous and saying that most of the tribulations that occurred during the actual journey could be said to have taken a few days to handle each, that's still only about 10% of the journey. A tribulation was anything that happened that put Tripitaka in danger or presented any sort of obstacle to him. Anything even remotely exciting would have fallen into that ~10%, and nothing else could have happened, because otherwise they wouldn't have gotten west one moderate inconvenience and/or major trauma short of the prize. (I mean, unless the thing that happened managed to not involve Tripitaka at all in any way, but that's very hard to do when you are all attached at the hip.)

Holy cow they really were just walking. ALL THAT TIME. No wonder Zhu Bajie was stirring the pot at any given opportunity. It was literally the only thing to do.

[ncityzen]

sometimes I'm normal in public and other times my brain is working extra hours as the head of the creative department istg

[forcebookish]

one of the things that has me nonstop thinking about topmew is that they're actually a very unique type of couple in fiction but not in real life. in most fiction, people are always falling in love by accident. they meet, circumstances put them together, they're caught by surprise when they fall in love. but though both top and mew had never been in love before and didn't totally know what to expect, it wasn't a complete shock. they met through a mutual friend, they found each other attractive and interesting, so they decided to date. they fell in love because they went on dates and did romantic things together on purpose. i think neither of them expected to fall so hard, but still, the point of dating is to see if you're compatible and fall in love and maybe build a life together. and that's what they did.

i don't think that makes them boring, i think that makes them relatable! i think that makes them stand out from other fictional couples! you know, people claimed they wanted more realistic BLs, but for some reason when topmew came along, a ship based on a real life gay couple, they didn't like them?

[mostlysignssomeportents]

How I got scammed

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/05/cyber-dunning-kruger/#swiss-cheese-security

I wuz robbed.

More specifically, I was tricked by a phone-phisher pretending to be from my bank, and he convinced me to hand over my credit-card number, then did $8,000+ worth of fraud with it before I figured out what happened. And then he tried to do it again, a week later!

Here's what happened. Over the Christmas holiday, I traveled to New Orleans. The day we landed, I hit a Chase ATM in the French Quarter for some cash, but the machine declined the transaction. Later in the day, we passed a little credit-union's ATM and I used that one instead (I bank with a one-branch credit union and generally there's no fee to use another CU's ATM).

A couple days later, I got a call from my credit union. It was a weekend, during the holiday, and the guy who called was obviously working for my little CU's after-hours fraud contractor. I'd dealt with these folks before – they service a ton of little credit unions, and generally the call quality isn't great and the staff will often make mistakes like mispronouncing my credit union's name.

That's what happened here – the guy was on a terrible VOIP line and I had to ask him to readjust his mic before I could even understand him. He mispronounced my bank's name and then asked if I'd attempted to spend $1,000 at an Apple Store in NYC that day. No, I said, and groaned inwardly. What a pain in the ass. Obviously, I'd had my ATM card skimmed – either at the Chase ATM (maybe that was why the transaction failed), or at the other credit union's ATM (it had been a very cheap looking system).

I told the guy to block my card and we started going through the tedious business of running through recent transactions, verifying my identity, and so on. It dragged on and on. These were my last hours in New Orleans, and I'd left my family at home and gone out to see some of the pre-Mardi Gras krewe celebrations and get a muffalata, and I could tell that I was going to run out of time before I finished talking to this guy.

"Look," I said, "you've got all my details, you've frozen the card. I gotta go home and meet my family and head to the airport. I'll call you back on the after-hours number once I'm through security, all right?"

He was frustrated, but that was his problem. I hung up, got my sandwich, went to the airport, and we checked in. It was total chaos: an Alaska Air 737 Max had just lost its door-plug in mid-air and every Max in every airline's fleet had been grounded, so the check in was crammed with people trying to rebook. We got through to the gate and I sat down to call the CU's after-hours line. The person on the other end told me that she could only handle lost and stolen cards, not fraud, and given that I'd already frozen the card, I should just drop by the branch on Monday to get a new card.

We flew home, and later the next day, I logged into my account and made a list of all the fraudulent transactions and printed them out, and on Monday morning, I drove to the bank to deal with all the paperwork. The folks at the CU were even more pissed than I was. The fraud that run up to more than $8,000, and if Visa refused to take it out of the merchants where the card had been used, my little credit union would have to eat the loss.

I agreed and commiserated. I also pointed out that their outsource, after-hours fraud center bore some blame here: I'd canceled the card on Saturday but most of the fraud had taken place on Sunday. Something had gone wrong.

One cool thing about banking at a tiny credit-union is that you end up talking to people who have actual authority, responsibility and agency. It turned out the the woman who was processing my fraud paperwork was a VP, and she decided to look into it. A few minutes later she came back and told me that the fraud center had no record of having called me on Saturday.

"That was the fraudster," she said.

Oh, shit. I frantically rewound my conversation, trying to figure out if this could possibly be true. I hadn't given him anything apart from some very anodyne info, like what city I live in (which is in my Wikipedia entry), my date of birth (ditto), and the last four digits of my card.

Wait a sec.

He hadn't asked for the last four digits. He'd asked for the last seven digits. At the time, I'd found that very frustrating, but now – "The first nine digits are the same for every card you issue, right?" I asked the VP.

I'd given him my entire card number.

Goddammit.

The thing is, I know a lot about fraud. I'm writing an entire series of novels about this kind of scam:

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865878/thebezzle

And most summers, I go to Defcon, and I always go to the "social engineering" competitions where an audience listens as a hacker in a soundproof booth cold-calls merchants (with the owner's permission) and tries to con whoever answers the phone into giving up important information.

But I'd been conned.

Now look, I knew I could be conned. I'd been conned before, 13 years ago, by a Twitter worm that successfully phished out of my password via DM:

https://locusmag.com/2010/05/cory-doctorow-persistence-pays-parasites/

That scam had required a miracle of timing. It started the day before, when I'd reset my phone to factory defaults and reinstalled all my apps. That same day, I'd published two big online features that a lot of people were talking about. The next morning, we were late getting out of the house, so by the time my wife and I dropped the kid at daycare and went to the coffee shop, it had a long line. Rather than wait in line with me, my wife sat down to read a newspaper, and so I pulled out my phone and found a Twitter DM from a friend asking "is this you?" with a URL.

Assuming this was something to do with those articles I'd published the day before, I clicked the link and got prompted for my Twitter login again. This had been happening all day because I'd done that mobile reinstall the day before and all my stored passwords had been wiped. I entered it but the page timed out. By that time, the coffees were ready. We sat and chatted for a bit, then went our own ways.

I was on my way to the office when I checked my phone again. I had a whole string of DMs from other friends. Each one read "is this you?" and had a URL.

Oh, shit, I'd been phished.

If I hadn't reinstalled my mobile OS the day before. If I hadn't published a pair of big articles the day before. If we hadn't been late getting out the door. If we had been a little more late getting out the door (so that I'd have seen the multiple DMs, which would have tipped me off).

There's a name for this in security circles: "Swiss-cheese security." Imagine multiple slices of Swiss cheese all stacked up, the holes in one slice blocked by the slice below it. All the slices move around and every now and again, a hole opens up that goes all the way through the stack. Zap!

The fraudster who tricked me out of my credit card number had Swiss cheese security on his side. Yes, he spoofed my bank's caller ID, but that wouldn't have been enough to fool me if I hadn't been on vacation, having just used a pair of dodgy ATMs, in a hurry and distracted. If the 737 Max disaster hadn't happened that day and I'd had more time at the gate, I'd have called my bank back. If my bank didn't use a slightly crappy outsource/out-of-hours fraud center that I'd already had sub-par experiences with. If, if, if.

The next Friday night, at 5:30PM, the fraudster called me back, pretending to be the bank's after-hours center. He told me my card had been compromised again. But: I hadn't removed my card from my wallet since I'd had it replaced. Also, it was half an hour after the bank closed for the long weekend, a very fraud-friendly time. And when I told him I'd call him back and asked for the after-hours fraud number, he got very threatening and warned me that because I'd now been notified about the fraud that any losses the bank suffered after I hung up the phone without completing the fraud protocol would be billed to me. I hung up on him. He called me back immediately. I hung up on him again and put my phone into do-not-disturb.

The following Tuesday, I called my bank and spoke to their head of risk-management. I went through everything I'd figured out about the fraudsters, and she told me that credit unions across America were being hit by this scam, by fraudsters who somehow knew CU customers' phone numbers and names, and which CU they banked at. This was key: my phone number is a reasonably well-kept secret. You can get it by spending money with Equifax or another nonconsensual doxing giant, but you can't just google it or get it at any of the free services. The fact that the fraudsters knew where I banked, knew my name, and had my phone number had really caused me to let down my guard.

The risk management person and I talked about how the credit union could mitigate this attack: for example, by better-training the after-hours card-loss staff to be on the alert for calls from people who had been contacted about supposed card fraud. We also went through the confusing phone-menu that had funneled me to the wrong department when I called in, and worked through alternate wording for the menu system that would be clearer (this is the best part about banking with a small CU – you can talk directly to the responsible person and have a productive discussion!). I even convinced her to buy a ticket to next summer's Defcon to attend the social engineering competitions.

There's a leak somewhere in the CU systems' supply chain. Maybe it's Zelle, or the small number of corresponding banks that CUs rely on for SWIFT transaction forwarding. Maybe it's even those after-hours fraud/card-loss centers. But all across the USA, CU customers are getting calls with spoofed caller IDs from fraudsters who know their registered phone numbers and where they bank.

I've been mulling this over for most of a month now, and one thing has really been eating at me: the way that AI is going to make this kind of problem much worse.

Not because AI is going to commit fraud, though.

One of the truest things I know about AI is: "we're nowhere near a place where bots can steal your job, we're certainly at the point where your boss can be suckered into firing you and replacing you with a bot that fails at doing your job":

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/15/passive-income-brainworms/#four-hour-work-week

I trusted this fraudster specifically because I knew that the outsource, out-of-hours contractors my bank uses have crummy headsets, don't know how to pronounce my bank's name, and have long-ass, tedious, and pointless standardized questionnaires they run through when taking fraud reports. All of this created cover for the fraudster, whose plausibility was enhanced by the rough edges in his pitch - they didn't raise red flags.

As this kind of fraud reporting and fraud contacting is increasingly outsourced to AI, bank customers will be conditioned to dealing with semi-automated systems that make stupid mistakes, force you to repeat yourself, ask you questions they should already know the answers to, and so on. In other words, AI will groom bank customers to be phishing victims.

This is a mistake the finance sector keeps making. 15 years ago, Ben Laurie excoriated the UK banks for their "Verified By Visa" system, which validated credit card transactions by taking users to a third party site and requiring them to re-enter parts of their password there:

https://web.archive.org/web/20090331094020/http://www.links.org/?p=591

This is exactly how a phishing attack works. As Laurie pointed out, this was the banks training their customers to be phished.

I came close to getting phished again today, as it happens. I got back from Berlin on Friday and my suitcase was damaged in transit. I've been dealing with the airline, which means I've really been dealing with their third-party, outsource luggage-damage service. They have a terrible website, their emails are incoherent, and they officiously demand the same information over and over again.

This morning, I got a scam email asking me for more information to complete my damaged luggage claim. It was a terrible email, from a noreply@ email address, and it was vague, officious, and dishearteningly bureaucratic. For just a moment, my finger hovered over the phishing link, and then I looked a little closer.

On any other day, it wouldn't have had a chance. Today – right after I had my luggage wrecked, while I'm still jetlagged, and after days of dealing with my airline's terrible outsource partner – it almost worked.

So much fraud is a Swiss-cheese attack, and while companies can't close all the holes, they can stop creating new ones.

Meanwhile, I'll continue to post about it whenever I get scammed. I find the inner workings of scams to be fascinating, and it's also important to remind people that everyone is vulnerable sometimes, and scammers are willing to try endless variations until an attack lands at just the right place, at just the right time, in just the right way. If you think you can't get scammed, that makes you especially vulnerable:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/24/passive-income/#swiss-cheese-security

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

[velvetydream]

꒰ :🥀 [ Till death do us part ] ”♡ᵎ꒱ˀˀ ↷ ⋯

Summary : What if Alastors dear little darling wife, his partner in crime, the person he thought he'd never see again, turns up with Mimzy on the day of the visit of the big boss of hell.

Pairing : Alastor x fem! Reader

Word count : 1899 Words

Genre : Fluff , Drama , Angst

Warnings ➵ Mentions of death, you're shorter than

Vaggie, possessive Alastor, swearing

Prequel -> > The radio star lost <

a/n : I love this trope ngl, tried to not make him to much out of character, hope it worked.. T T

Also I'm rather new to Hazbin Hotel, so I say sorry if anythings seems wrong or out of character! ><

┌───────────────────────── ·  ·  ·  · ♡

The whole hotel was a bit chaotic right now, Lucifer himself would be visiting in just a bit and Charlie wanted everything to be perfect. Colorful decorations were hanging everywhere, a banner was hung up for welcoming the king of hell, how does one even welcome the king of hell into their hotel? Charlie was probably the most stressed of all, but Vaggie did her best to calm her nervous wreck of a girlfriend down.

The moment Lucifer stepped into the hotel was meant to make everything go down, Alastor and his Ego had somehow always a snarky remark against Lucifer. Charlie tried her best to keep them apart, introducing her other friends, before she announced how she would be needing his help. And again the banter between the king of hell and the radio demon started all over again. As if throwing insults at each other before wasn't enough already, now they were pulling at Charlie left and right, like two babies fighting over a toy.

But all things come to an end, which Charlie was thankful for right now, as Mimzy, apparently a friend of Alastor, which was interesting to know he even had any, came barging in with a grand entrance. As the woman now settles down at the bar, talking with the others, Alastor and Charlie took Lucifer on a walk around, Husker disappearing for a second too, but soon joining them at the bar again, a scowl on his face, but something else, undescribable behind his eyes.

A bang was heard through the whole hotel as the entrance door was slammed open and heard could be an angry voice. "MIMZY! You little bitch!" A demon, a slight bit shorter than Vaggie probably, walked in. A scowl evident on the face, as her eyes scan over the place, before falling on the woman she was looking for. "How dare you leave me in the shit like that?! You've got it coming if those sharks don't kill you, I certainly will!" Ignoring the questioning looks of Angel and Husker, you stomp over to the blonde, ready to yank at her hair, when suddenly a bit of debris was thrown through the window and landed beside you, barely missing you by a hair. "The fuck?" The demon's head craned around, looking out the window and there they were, those fuckers Mimzy was in debt to.

You didn't really have time to react much, as three people stormed into the entrance hall, all you could catch was a glimpse of red before the person ran outside, screams of the sharks could be heard, at least those were finally taken care of.

The loan sharks were gone and fought off quickly by that person, his voice now directed to Mimzy, your own eyes on her yourself with a scowl. She and that red demon apparently knew each other quite well, as Mimzy was walking to the door, you finally really looked at the demon. He had short red and black hair, ears sat atop his head, despite scowling Mimzy he was smiling, though a sinister smile it seems. His attire was almost completely red too, a cane was clutched in his hands, as he watched Mimzy walk off, you could only make out a small part of his face. The man seemed so familiar as if you had known him for a long time.. Your heart was running a mile right now, it was getting hard to breathe, and then...

"Thank you Alastor, really.." The long-haired blonde spoke up.. That name, it couldn't be right? Mimzy would've told you, she knew him, she would've definitely told you.. right? You must be mistaken right now.. Your eyes were fixated on the man called Alastor, the voices and sounds around you were all a mush, drowned out as your brain was going all around. Now that you could see his face, he definitely had some resemblance to him.. to your late husband, who had died before you. You were his assistant, his partner in crime, when the news hit you that he was shot, it broke your heart, but still, you continued on alone, killing. That's probably what also got you to hell, well sooner than later you were figured out and soon arrived here in hell.

"Yo smiles, this girly is gawking at you for minutes now." Slowly voices were coming back to you, the white spider beside you talked, pointing his thumb at you, the red-haired now meeting your eyes, his ears straightening and standing alert like the ones of a deer caught in headlight. What irony if he was your Alastor, the irony of dooming him with deer-like features, after getting shot assumed for a deer while hiding one of the many bodies. That day you decided to let him go alone, oh if you just hadn't done that, maybe you both would be alive or you would've at least arrived together in hell.

Alastor was taking slow steps to you, the smile on his face looking strained, yet it never disappeared, his hand was reaching out for you but stopped. Eyes moving over your form, taking in everything. Resemblance to his wife evident, but.. how did he never notice you before? Had he ever met you, walked past, maybe even taken a second glance but dismissed this feeling he has right now.

Swiftly he grabs your wrist, dragging you behind him, ignoring the calls of his name of the other residents, his mind plagued by one only thought, more like one only person.. you.

Stumbling behind him, his grip rather firm on your wrist, yet it felt comforting as if you knew he would never hurt you. Not in your lifetime and also not now in your afterlife. Eyes watching the back of his head, you were wondering what expression his face harbors right now. Was he happy? Was he confused? Disappointed? Maybe he knew where you were all this time but didn't want to meet you. No, he wasn't like this. He may have been distant sometimes while alive, but in the end, he was always a darling to you. Taking care of you, just as he vowed on your wedding day. A distant memory, yet one of the most beautiful ones you have.

A door was opened and as you were pulled inside, the door closed. Steps echoed through the room, you noticed a forest on the other side of the room, but that didn't rather faze you, eyes on him again.. and him only. "Al-" You were interrupted by laughter, the man before you was hugging himself, his arms around him, yet you still weren't able to see his face. "D-Do you know.. How often have I thought about you?!" His voice was loud, a static sound like from a radio accompanied it. One of his hands was tearing at his hair now. "That bitch never told me... I'll make sure to kill her for that.. She kept you from me.." The laughter got even louder, as if the man before you was going insane.

This behavior was nothing new to you, he used to be like this, high on adrenalin when another murder was successful.. Or when he was close to being figured out by the police and detectives, yet he always slipped away right through their incapable fingers.

"I always wondered what happened to you, if you grew old with someone new.." If you were able to see his face right now, you would be able to see the sinister yet possessive smile on his face, his eyes darting around the room.

This all ended in a second when he felt a soft hand on his. He knew this hand, he also knew the person it belonged to like the front of his pocket. "I would never, I carried on alone in your memories, yet I was never as skilled as you darling, so sooner than later they connected all the dots to me." A low chuckle could be heard again, the static radio sound calmed down again too. The tall man slowly turned around now, his hand engulfing your own, his fingers softly running over your own, before he linked them together. How he had missed this feeling, despite having a distaste for people touching him, you were different. Your touch felt warm, like the summer sun kissing his skin, it felt comforting.

"I've missed you mon amour.." His voice was soft, probably the softest it had ever been since he had arrived in hell. His hand guides yours up to his lips, as he closes his eyes and presses a soft kiss to the back of your hand, a smile, now softer, on his lips. He was never one for kissing you on the lips, he definitely favored kissing your hand, like the gentleman he has always been. "I figured with how you were talking seconds ago my dear.." A soft smile was creeping up onto your lips too, mirroring his own one. Red eyes open again, your hand still pressed to his face, but now he was rather holding your hand to his cheek. "Oh how I wished I could've stayed with you my darling, we would've been so successful.." Giggling at his words, with him at your side, you probably would have been going for a long time. "But who says we can't be successful now?" A smirk etched its way onto your husband's face, oh how he loved your daring little mind, always thirsting for blood. With you by his side again now, he would definitely be able to get everything done that he wanted.

"Shall we go back? I want to meet your friends properly." Wanting to pull away your hand, he softly gives you a tug, your head landing on his chest now. Wide eyes look the the side now, as you weren't really able to move, his arms having snaked around you and his chin resting on your head. This was unusual much physical contact, but figured that you hadn't seen each other for multiple decades he yearned for your touch just a slight bit. Your arms lying around him, embracing the hug. "Let's just stay here a few minutes more, we got enough time to introduce you to everyone down there but for now.. let me have you for myself." Nodding softly, your head rests on his chest, as your eyes close and you simply enjoy the presence of your dearly beloved husband.

"What do you mean 'married to smiles'?!" Angel, as he was introduced to you, shouted from his place on the couch now, staring at you flabbergasted. "We've been married for quite a few years before his death." Smiling you answered his question. Alastor didn't like all the attention you were getting, but sooner than later he would have you all to himself again when you two go back to his cozy hotel room or the radio tower. "So you two fu-" Angel wasn't even able to finish his question before he shut himself up as he noticed the look on Alastors face. This time he would've been dead for sure if he finished that question.

Overall everyone invited you happily into their little hotel family, it was amazing. Charlie immediately took a liking to you and if you're being honest she quickly was viewed by you like a daughter.

[arminsumi]

. . . 𝐬𝐢𝐤𝐞, 𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮

► 'Love, love, love, I want your love... you and me could write a bad romance.'

+ Warnings: MDNI/18+ content, smut, kinda slowburn/enemies to lovers, bullying/toxicity, obsession, dom → sub!Gojo, some degradation, namecalling (sl★t), rough s★x, riding his abs, f★ngering, some hatef★cking

+ Tags: @ciggrx

𝐖𝐡𝐲 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡?

This is what you've been wondering since you started at this college. It feels surreal, watching how people fawn over 𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮, how they desperately — desperately — follow after his wake. His hoard of brainwashed admirers make it even harder for you to stand up to him, because they're convinced that he can do no wrong.

𝐒𝐞𝐞, 𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲!𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞, so your attempts to retaliate just earn a wide grin from him. He just thinks you're cute, assuming you're flirting with him, so he purrs back "Don't turn me on now." like you've just confessed how much you want to ride him.

𝐁𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲!𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬, ridiculing everything you like. Your music taste? "That's so basic." he scoffs, but when he goes home that night he's listening to each and every song that you mentioned, thinking of you.

𝐁𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲!𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮'𝐬 voice is always sweetened when he talks to you. No, it's not sweetened for anyone else; his words are so venomous but those saccharine syllables throw you off.

𝐇𝐞 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮, hurrying to his car as soon as morning classes end to jerk off in the backseat. Leaky and twitchy, his cock stands upright with only one thought on its mind and that's to be inside you. He throws his head back while giving himself quick strokes, thinking about all the times you've sassed him back, flirted back. Tightening his jaw, Satoru gets off to the fantasy of you obsessing over him — instead of how it really is.

𝐇𝐞'𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐧𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐞, openly admitting at parties that he'd "show you heaven" if he had fifteen minutes alone with you. Legs spread wide as he's sat, staring, taking a sip of his drink, Satoru whispers something about you to Suguru — causing his best friend to blush and smack his shoulder, muttering a scornful "Don't talk about girls like that, Satoru."

𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬, 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐥𝐲, where Satoru's attention is just plastered all over you. You're late? He's asking people where Miss Bunny is. You walk into the room? He sees you before you see him. You say something? He's straining his ears. You're dressed in a tight dress? He's thinking about peeling it off your body just before he slides into you. Oh, you brought a date with? He's going to mutter some terrible rumor into their ear so that by the end of the night you're all alone, just like he wants.

Once your date is gone, Satoru will make his way over to you, slide into the seat that's too small for two people — he'll press his thigh against yours, leaning over you like he's got no sense of personal space. "All alone? Need me to keep you company?" he grins, looking down at you. It only makes him grin wider when you playfully push his face away, "Have you been kissing girls all night with breath this bad?"

"Don't like the smell of liquor, huh? Then I take it you're not down for... ah never mind." he stops mid-sentence, just to tease you, smirking to himself when he sees your eyes light up with a attention.

𝐓𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬, 𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲!𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐩𝐬 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐭, not expecting your reciprocation. The taste of liquor is sharp on his tongue, mixing with the flavor of your mouth — something he's been dying to taste.

𝐁𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲!𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮'𝐬 usually the center of attention, but now he's pulling you to the side, tongue exploring your mouth, lips plastered all over you like he's never felt someone better than you. It's just a party, and you're just horny, and he's just there; that's what you're telling yourself as you try to justify why your hands are on his chest.

𝐇𝐞'𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮, leading you to the backseat of his car. "I hate you." you murmur against his lips, "Shut up and spread your legs." is all that he responds with before his hand finds its way down to your clothed pussy. He squeezes it, smiling about how small it feels in his palm.

𝐁𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲!𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐬 𝐮𝐧𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐲𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐭 with you when he pleasures you with his fingers in the backseat of his car, his clit massaging feeling too good, his fingertip perfectly positioned. "You're so pretty." he says in adoration — totally forgetting about who he is as he watches you shiver and moan from the circling of his fingertips around your puffy clit. "Is it too much?" he whispers, easing the pressure, "Oh, you like it? You want more? Okay, pretty girl. I'll give you more. You just lay back and enjoy yourself."

𝐎𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞, 𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬, claiming that you imagined it all. You want more and he calls you a 'bitch in heat' with a grin on his face, like he's not the one who stared intently into your eyes while you came all over his fingers that night.

𝐓𝐨𝐨 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞, 𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲!𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 asks Suguru to ask how you're doing, what you're up to — are you're free on the weekend? And Suguru just sighs in compliance, thinking lower and lower of his best friend because god, how pathetically prideful can one man be? "Just text her." he tells him, to which Satoru responds "No way. That would give her the satisfaction of knowing that I'm interested." and here is where Suguru groans, "Oh my God, what dumb games are you two playing with each other? She says she can't tell you she likes you, and you say you can't give her the satisfaction — you're both insane."

Satoru's eyes light up, "She said she likes me?! When was this? Was she joking? Did she look like she was joking? You can tell by the way the left corner of her lip curls. What are you groaning about! This is serious, Suguru! Take me seriously! What else has she said about me? Does she like my hair? Ask her if she likes my hair. And ask her what her favorite ice cream is — is she lactose intolerant? Suguru, don't walk away from me. I need this information and you're my spy. Come on, I'll pay you."

𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮 𝐢𝐬 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝, needing a cigarette each time he watches the two of you "fight like you're gonna fuck". Each time you storm off, leaving behind a Satoru who's smiling like a jackass and a Suguru who's shaking his head at his best friend, it seems like it's the last time you'll let Satoru ridicule you.

𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐧𝐨, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫, asking Suguru where Satoru is. "I thought you said you hated him and never wanted to see him again?" he sighs, "Never mind. He was asking for you too. Yeah, he's in the hall."

𝐈𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥, 𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲!𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 accuses you of liking his best friend — to which you reassure him that you do not, as if you're his girlfriend. In fact, the argument in the hall goes down like you two are a fighting couple. But of course, while up in your face, Satoru's eyes are on your lips; it's not long before he's crashing onto your lips with a hateful kiss, like he's lost his mind and it's somewhere in your mouth.

𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲!𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮'𝐬 kisses are so hard that the force of them pins you to the wall — and god, he loves your whimpers. Every noise that he elicits out of you causes his lips to spread into a naughty smile; he keeps kissing you through this smile, lips wet and sore.

. . . 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲!𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮'𝐬 thrusts are so hard that the force of them makes your thighs and ass jiggle. He feels your hole contract tightly around his cock — and god, he moans like a bitch in heat.

It's so funny, because he accuses you that you moan like a bitch in heat. "Aw, you're so in love with your bully's big cock, aren't you?" he taunts.

The only correct response is a cheeky one; "Says you; you fuck me like you haven't gotten pussy in years." he hears this, then draws out his cock and slams it back in with a force that makes your eyes roll back. He pounds into you harder, hitting spots that all your exes failed to reach, moaning even more pathetically than before.

𝐁𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲!𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 babbles when he's close, "You love me, right? Tell me you love me. Please, I'm gonna cum so fucking hard if you say it."

But immediately after, he pretends like he never begged for any of that, and pretends like his cock didn't twitch and throb and spurt cum instantly when he heard you proclaim love for him.

𝐇𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠? 𝐎𝐡, 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞. He loves telling you how much he hates your guts while he's deep in them. He loves making a sloppy mess of you as he claims that he hates you and everything you stand for, feeling how sticky and wet you get at his growling voice. He loves how your greedy hole slicks not just his cock but also his abs, which he tauntingly accuses you of perving on.

𝐎𝐡, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐬 𝐧𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞, he holds your hips down hard against his stomach and flexes his muscles against your pussy. "Look at that face, you love this don't you?" he grunts, feeling you slide back and forth over him, "I shoulda cum over myself first and let you ride me like that, huh? You'd love feeling my cum all over your pussy, wouldn't you?"

𝐁𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲!𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 loves cornering you after classes, pressing and grinding his growing erection into your tinier body. "Feel how hard I am — yeah, feel how much I fucking hate you, little slut." he coos against your lips, all up in your face, guiding your hand to his cock.

Of course, you can't even bother resisting the urge to squeeze it, can't even bother hiding how much you want him to ruin you with it. It just makes him grin, seeing you slowly fall apart and heat up after a few minutes of touching.

𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐚 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫, and he's told you "Don't test me, I'm not afraid to make you an ex. What do you mean we're not dating? Then why do you moan my name on my dick like I'm your man?" and he's crawled back to you, apologizing.

"I didn't mean it, I was just being an asshole for no reason. Come on, will you come tonight? Everyone's going to be there." he pleads you, eyes persuading you as they always do.

Because of course, he can't attend dumb frat parties without you anymore. To quote what he told Suguru, poutingly over the phone, after begging his best friend to help convince you to come; "What's the point of going if she isn't there? The whole purpose of my outfit this year is to scare the shit out of her... and then fuck the shit out of her. Don't you cringe at me, Suguru, it was your idea! No, you weren't joking! Don't play it off now! You literally told me that she has a kink for that — wait a minute, how'd you find out about that... DON'T YOU HANG UP ON ME!"

𝐀𝐧𝐲𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬, 𝐁𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲!𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐬 𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐇𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧, rubbing his dick into you from behind, claiming that he's gonna "Make you scream just like that" again and again tonight, right here in this bathroom. He makes sure to pronounce his muscles, to flex them, to really remind you how much stronger and taller and bigger he is.

𝐎𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝? 𝐍𝐨, 𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲!𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝… "It's you who's obsessed with me; just feel how wet you are." he groans, fingers stuffed knuckle-deep inside your pussy. He stares into your eyes intensely as you orgasm on his fingers, intently watching how your lips form his favorite 'o' shape.

𝐁𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲!𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 loves your weak holes, loves your expressions, loves how you crawl back to him for more even though he treats you so bad sometimes.

His nastiness turns you on but at some point, you think enough is enough; you turn the tables on him.

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲!𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝, because the girl he's obsessed with isn't obsessed with him anymore. He nags you to go on a date with him, he softens his eyes, holds you more gently — "Stop ignoring me." he whines like a child.

𝐁𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲!𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐬 to beg you to go out with him, to kiss him just one more time, to come back to his bed, to sit on his face, "I can prove to you that heaven's on my tongue. What? No, no. I didn't mean all of that. I know I was a jerk to you back then, but please, just give me another chance."

𝐁𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲!𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮, following after your shadow. But now he's the one at your mercy; you lead him by the hand upstairs to empty rooms during those dumb frat parties, and you ride him until he whimpers like a bitch in heat. "Close already? It's only been fifteen minutes, Satoru. What happened to your stamina?" you taunt him, "Keep it together."

Now riding Satoru pulls the most pathetic sounds out of his pretty lips. His sensitive cock twitches and jumps at just the sight of you, of course it's throbbing and bursting with cum within ten minutes. Sometimes less. And what does he babble as he's about to cum? "Please don't stop." in the most pathetic tone of voice.

𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬, grovels at your feet, mumbles in agreement to the things you want to do. He's just caved in, totally given up on acting tough and mean, given up on pretending that he hates everything you like — he wonders to himself, why did he waste so much time being an asshole? He could have just sat there, like he is now, listening to you yap with hearts in his eyes.

𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫, "𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲"!𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮'𝐬 totally smitten, desperate for your attention. Suguru's always commenting on how you've changed him for the better, while Satoru denies having changed at all.

But let his actions speak for his change. He's always cancelling those dumb frat parties to make plans with you. You want to see this new fancy restaurant? Hold on, he's got to buy you a glittery dress for the occasion. What if we went to the seaside? That's not overly romantic, is it? Ring shopping? Relax, he's just a college student, he's not going to propose to you. Buying a diamond ring is just a personal investment for his future.

𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠! 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬: 𝐀𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐢'𝐬 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

[mickandmusings]

third times the charm

pairing: tyler owens x f!reader

word count: 3.8k

summary: life has a funny way of putting people in your path, and ultimately making them part of your life. but what happens when the one person you never want to see stumbles in over and over again, a disastrous tornado tearing up your path of moving on?

aka: the two times tyler owens enters and, consequently, leaves, your life at the wrong time, and the one time he comes at the perfect moment and finally stays.

warnings: reader is described in a feminine manner; why are we ignoring his bull rider trope? cause i'm not babes xx; angsty mainly, but fluff too; lovers to enemies back to lovers (sorry); this author knows nothing about tornadoes or weather so sorry

shoutout to megan moroney and her banger new album where this title and idea come from :)

-

i.

"What do you mean you're leaving?!"

Tyler shuts the tailgate of his red pick-up with a loud slam, the cowboy hat on his head nearly flying off with the force. Y/N stood just a few feet away, her arms crossed over her torso as her chest heaved in short, shaking breaths. The sunlight hits her just right, and the gold chain around her neck glimmers in the sunlight. It catches Tyler's attention from the corner of his eye-it had been burned into his mind from the moment he'd bought it with a chunk of his earnings from last year's rodeo. The chain was delicate, simple, but the charm had been the main appeal: it was gold, the same shade as the chain, but in the center of the small heart shaped pendant sat a capital 'T'. She'd worn it since he'd given it to her for a birthday present, and it had been the center piece of even their most intimate moments-her bare beneath him with only the glittering jewelry adorning her as he had her unraveling under his touch. Even the thought of it had heat traveling up Tyler's neck, and he swallowed down the feeling, along with all of the guilt bubbling to the surface.

"I'm leavin', simple as that."

"Ty, I-I don't understand. You get bucked off one time and you're giving up?! You've been riding since we were kids, I-"

He turns to her, emerald eyes blazing with an emotion he couldn't put a label on.

"I didn't just get 'bucked off', I almost got my head trampled in case you forgot!" His voice is laced with anger. He's not angry with her, he's angry with himself. After a series of unfortunate injuries in last month's local rodeo, Tyler knew he couldn't ride again, it would kill him. He'd spent the last few weeks in physical therapy and doctor's offices just to make sure the damn bull hadn't left behind more than scars.

It was better this way, he could leave his town behind, and forget about the deep, gut-twisting feeling of failure that sat like acid in his stomach. But leaving his hometown also meant leaving her.

Tyler had fallen for Y/N their junior year of high school, and they'd rarely been seen without one another ever since then. She was sweet and shy to his brash and confident, his biggest supporter-always sitting in the stands for all of his rides-whether he was the talk of the town or stumbling home, his shotgun rider, and the girl who wore his heart (literally and figuratively) on a chain around her neck. Looking at her now, with tears lining under her gorgeous eyes, he wanted to just forget all of his plans and pull her into his arms. He wanted to reassure her that he'd stay here, that he'd give her the life that he'd promised her-apple pie and babies, the perfect picket-fence life she deserved.

"Tyler, you-you can't be serious! W-What about your parents, your plans, hell, Tyler, what about me?!" Her shoulders now moved as she let out shuddering breaths, eyebrows furrowed as she grew frustrated. "Tyler Owens you promised me, you promised me a farmhouse, and a wrap-around porch, a-and babies! And now you're just gonna take off to God-knows-where to what? Storm chase?"

She stops and lets out a dry chuckle. She'd been 'chasing' with him before, vivid memories of him scaring her shitless chasing tornadoes in his truck, only to 'apologize' to her by making love in the backseat after the storm had passed. Through their time together, she, too, had grown to love the storms. Y/N took her camera into the storms with them, more than ready to capture the freakishly beautiful moments of pure disaster before it struck. She'd stand in the pouring rain next to him, laughing as wind whipped hair around her face. He'd snap a picture of her with her own camera that she'd set aside and she'd roll her eyes. They'd been happy, bonded by a mutual love of mother nature's chaos and one another. Now, she turns her back to face him, shaking her head as her bottom lip trembles.

"Ya know, I should've listened to everyone who told me to stay away from you in high school, that you'd just hurt me. I didn't believe them, not one bit, because I know you. You're running because you're scared. You don't have to run, Ty. You've never run from your fears, for God's sake you ride them! What the hell are you thinking?!"

Tears stream down her face, and Tyler feels his resolve slipping. He hadn't thought it through, not really, and now as she stands in front of him, he realizes he's only hurting her more and more. He needed an out, he needed to skip town, no matter who it hurt.

"I'm thinking that I'm a fuckin' failure at everything, no matter what I try! The only thing I'm good at is storms, chasin' them, getting close enough to see something! I fail at everything, Y/N/N, and if I stay, I'll just fail you, too. Over and over."

"Tyler, you've never failed me," she brings her hands to either side of his face, her thumb brushing a cut that still hadn't scarred over from his fall. Her eyes were blurry and her hands trembled. "Please, stay." Her voice was hardly a whisper, pleading desperately.

"You know I can't."

She nodded solemnly, wiping tears so she could take a final look into his eyes. She gave no warning when she launched her arms around his neck, all but hanging onto him like a child. He hugged her tighter than he ever had, and when she let go, he placed a final heated goodbye kiss on her lips. Y/N looks at him, her brain screaming pleas to make him stay, but she simply kisses his cheek before speaking.

"C-call me when you get there?"

He takes one last glance at her, taking her in completely, as if trying to memorize her. His eyes land on the jewelry adorning the spot just below her collarbone, the gold shining in the sunset, knowing he'd never see it on her again-if he ever even saw her again.

"You'll be the first person I call, baby."

Y/N's call never came.

She spent the summer miserable, but refused to take off the gold chain she hid under shirts. It burned her skin in a metaphorical sense, but she ignored it, just like the heartbreak that had festered into deep resentment for Tyler Owens. She'd decided to take off to the local university for a clean start, somewhere new, somewhere his ghost wouldn't haunt her. Things had begun to look up, and she found herself smiling again. The morning before her first day of classes, she almost took the chain off, but couldn't bring herself to do so.

When she spotted his tall figure sitting a row ahead of her in her Intro to Meteorology class, she pretended not to know who he was. It was only fair, he'd done the same to her. For a reason that neither of them could vocalize, they begin to hate one another. Without knowing it, Tyler had become the storm that had sparked her into chasing after danger forever, the one that had left destruction so fatal she wasn't sure if she'd ever recover.

-

ii.

"You've got to be kidding me."

Y/N rolls her eyes and nearly throws her laptop across her dorm room when she looks down at her field partner pairing. The name in bold stares back at her like some sick joke.

Tyler Owens.

She shuts her laptop with a force that could shatter glass and slams her face into her pillow to let out a scream that could have easily been heard four counties over. The universe had to hate her.

With one glance at her watch, she hops from her bed and packs her duffel, her camera slung around her other shoulder. After silently praying that this storm takes her away in one quick swoop, she opens the door to her room and stumbles down the stairs to the lobby, where he was waiting for her outside the double doors. She can already feel her skin flaming with anger when she catches sight of his towering frame, baseball cap thrown backwards over his head.

"'Bout fuckin' time sweetheart, thought the storm would pass before we even got out there!"

"Oh, kiss my ass, Owens."

She rolls her eyes and climbs into the red truck she had once been a permanent fixture in, feeling almost like nothing had changed since the last time she'd crawled into the passenger side. She had half a mind to let down the driver's side visor to see if her picture still sat inside it, but Tyler climbs in the second she thinks about it. The half hour drive is uncomfortable, silent, and laced with tension so thick both halves of the couple begin to wonder if the air supply is getting thin. But as the storm approaches, both of their eyes are locked on the massive twisting figure just ahead of them. Y/N reaches for her camera, focusing the lens as best as she can through the windshield of the truck. She sighs when the view is less than satisfactory. Without much thought, she begins to move the window crank on the door to let down the window.

"What the hell are you doin'?" Tyler's voice breaks their silence.

"What does it look like, Owens? Getting a better shot." Her body hangs halfway out the window, camera leaning out the window as she moves the lens and clicks.

"Get your ass in the truck, I'm not payin' your hospital bills when you fall out and I run over you."

She rolls her eyes and ignores him, almost her entire body hanging out the window.

"Okay, okay, get in the truck, I'll get you closer, Jesus."

She pulls herself back into the truck and rolls the window back up as Tyler moves forward down the muddy path, closer to the storm now building ahead. The wind and rain grow more intense, shaking even the bulky vehicle that could easily withstand even the most treacherous of conditions. The spiraling tunnel only moves at a more pummeling speed, and Y/N's sharp shout fills the air.

"Stop the truck!"

He hits the brake and before the truck even stops, Y/N's rolling out of the passenger side, camera raised as she captures a monster of a storm. Tyler finds himself silent, momentarily distracted-her hair blowing with the force of the wind, the smile drawn across her face, and the long sleeve button down she'd been wearing was slipping down her shoulders, exposing her tank top and-wait-he raises an eyebrow, his heart stopping. Against her neck sat a gold chain he knew too well. It stops him completely in his tracks, shocked that she still wore his initial around her neck. The sound of a roaring train pulls him from his thoughts and sends him leaning out his own door.

"Y/N," he's shouting over the loud winds. "GET YOUR ASS IN THE TRUCK!"

The barrel of wind only gets closer, the fierceness of wind making Tyler's heart race. The girl outside his truck, however, only smiles wider, raising her camera for another shot of the approaching storm.

"I'M FINE, TYLER. WIND'S NOT EVEN THAT BAD!"

Tyler huffs as his voice, raspy from yelling, shouts again.

"THAT WASN'T A REQUEST, SWEETHEART. GET YOUR ASS IN THIS TRUCK!"

She ignores his shouts, only squinting her eyes at the horizon as the wind picks up another notch, making the shirt now halfway down on her arms blow like a flag in the wind. Tyler gives her a minute to comply, hoping this was just a momentary phase of her being stubborn. After five minutes, Tyler cursed and stomped out of the truck over to her. He says nothing, picking her up over his shoulder.

"TYLER! WHAT THE FUCK?! PUT ME DOWN, ASSHOLE!"

He doesn't give in to her retorts, simply swinging her door open and shoving her into the passenger seat. He gets into his driver's side and slings his arm on her headrest, turning to back the truck around.

"What the hell is wrong with you?! Do you have some sort of sick kink where you get off on ruining my life? I had a perfect shot, it-"

"You had a perfect shot of getting sucked into a tornado is what you had, Y/N. You're gonna get yourself killed gettin' that fuckin' close!"

"Like you would care." Her voice isn't even a mumble, and Tyler hardly hears her over the sounds of the storm.

It sends a jab of pain through his heart he doesn't expect, and instead of saying anything, he lets her stew in anger in his passenger seat. When he drops her off at her dorm, she agrees to email him her half of the project, and a week later he receives it.

He opens the email to find exactly what he imagines, the most spectacular shots of a storm he's ever seen. After the report and photos are submitted, the two never speak to one another again. They both graduate under the same Arkansas sun, but lead different lives in the same area of the country. Y/N swears she sees his truck pass her every time she goes out to shoot, and he sees her in every girl that stands in a field with a camera.

Y/N would never admit that she has a burner account subscribed to his livestreams, or that she laughed and smiled as she watched him hoop and holler with his ragtag group of friends, memories of the chases they once went on filling her mind more fondly than painfully these days. And if she had one of the red and white shirts with his stupid cartoon face plastered against it, well, no one would ever know.

When Boone and the rest of his crew would stop for food and rest breaks, if Tyler saw her name plastered in a newspaper or magazine, he'd put it on the counter next to his plethora of snacks. He'd never admit he'd cut her articles out of them and kept them in a small scrapbook that lived in his glovebox, right next to the picture of her that once lived in his visor-only because a magazine cut-out clip of her lived there now, her smiling with a massive twin barrel storm behind her, the gold chain peeking from the shirt was wearing.

-

iii.

"Ty, man, this one's a beaut! She's unreal!"

Boone's voice filled Tyler's ears from the passenger seat, but as Tyler looked out at the horizon, his attention was far from the brunette that sat next to him. He saw her car before he saw her-the same rink-dink, decked out, black Subaru she'd had in college, meaning she was here on her own, not for business.

His green eyes darted to the field across from where it was parked, spotting her instantly as she stood in the tall grass, hair blowing as she brought her camera to her face, crouching down to get the perfect shot. She shook her head when she pulled back from it, enjoying the sight in front of her.

Tyler puts the truck in park and all but barrels out of the door, his boots taking him towards her, but not nearly fast enough.

"Jesus, who's that? And why's she got Ty all in a tizzy?" Boone leans over to Lilly, who gives him an incredulous look.

"That's Y/N Y/L/N, she's a storm photographer, apparently he's got some fan girl crush on her or somethin', he keeps her work in a binder."

"Holy shit! Tyler knows the Y/N Y/L/N?"

Tyler would've blushed and denied Lilly's statement vehemently, but he was too far away to hear. Instead, the whipping winds and the sound of Y/N's delightful laughter filled his ears.

"She's a beaut, huh?" Tyler's voice carries over the noise, falling on Y/N's ears. She takes a breath and turns to face him for the first time in years. She nods slowly.

"Yeah, she's gorgeous. Got some great shots."

Her throat feels dry as his eyes peer down at her. She finally braves a look up at him.

"Um, I'm not studying it or anything, just bored, really. I'll let you and your crew have her."

She gives him a small smile, but he notes it's genuine as she caps the lens on her camera.

"It was good to see you, Ty. Good luck."

"Y/N, wait. I-I need to ask you somethin'."

She pauses her steps, turning back to face the man in front of her. For a split second, he looks just like the younger version that had left her all those years ago-the hat, the belt buckle, but none of that same all consuming fear.

"Sure, go ahead."

"Why do you still wear it? I saw you, that time in college, and when you did that shoot outside of Kansas City, the picture they published of you, it-you can see it real clear."

Y/N stills, pushing back hair that's blowing in the wind as she looks at him. She could say a multitude of things-how she wore it because she'd gotten so used to always wearing it. That she wore it because she wanted to hold onto him the only way she could. She could lie and say that she used it as a good luck charm. None of them would be the truth, and she was sick of lying to him, so she simply told the truth.

"Well, all the best chasers, they carry their first storm with them, right?"

She pauses, realizing how vague that was.

"What I mean is, without you taking me through my first storm I never would've done this. I was terrified of them, and you and that stupid red truck of yours showed me how beautiful they can be, and now I capture their beauty for a living. I never would've had any of this without you, so-"

She shrugs, giving him a small chuckle. The silence suffocates as he looks at her.

"Tyler listen-"

"If you're gonna apologize, don't. I'm the one that should apologize, I left you all those years ago. That was real shitty of me, and I didn't give you a warnin' or a reason why. So, I'm sorry, for all of it."

She nods, giving him a smile. The quiet floods between them again, and she pushes back her hair again before she speaks.

"I-I watch your videos, y-your livestreams. You're still crazy, but it reminds me of when we used to chase, and you'd scare me to death, and then you'd, uh, 'apologize' for it and, sometimes it's like I'm there with you."

He laughs with her.

"I-I've got every newspaper and magazine clippin' you've ever been in. You're pictures they're-breathtakin', it feels like you're standin' in the field right there next to you. I guess that's just because I used to be and memories, ya know?"

She nodded, giving him a sweet smile, one that sends his heart racing. They both turn their attention to the horizon where the storm seems relatively calm, at least by their standards.

"Uh, Y/N? I'm sorry, I promised you somethin' all those years ago, and I never made good on it. I think about that a lot, and-just-I'm sorry."

"I forgave you a long time ago, Ty, we were kids." She pauses, tilting her head as she looks at the storm brewing. "Besides, I don't think I'm cut out for that life anymore, I like life on the road. I mean, where else do you get moments like this? The storms back home are wonders, but nothing like this."

"I agree with you there," he chuckles. His heart pounds, and the words slip out of his mouth before he can stop them. "I miss you though."

She cuts her eyes to his own, as if waiting for him to explain himself.

"You were my original chasin' partner, ya know? Plus, when things got scary, you never flinched, not really. This reporter I've got now? God help us all, can't stand much more than a strong wind."

Y/N laughs loudly before she shakes her head.

"Well, you might be in luck. I hate working for that magazine, I really, really do." She turns to face him, camera pulled close to her chest. "The Tornado Wranglers hiring? I'm looking for a job. I have a portfolio if you need it, references too."

Her statement is laced with sarcasm.

Tyler finds himself laughing now, a wide smile plastered across his face.

"I'm familiar with your work, have it on good graces that you're just what we're lookin' for. Lucky for you, we've always got room for one more, that is, if you'll have us. I gotta warn you, those over there are a handful."

"If they're anything like you, I'm likely to fall in love with them instantly."

Y/N doesn't register the words stumbling out of her mouth until they'd already filled the air between them. Without a word, Tyler grabs her hand, pulling her in closer than people who have a history like theirs should. His calloused fingers reach out to the gold pendant lying on her neck, moving it back and forth between its fingers. It had withstood their time apart-it was scratched and a little weather-worn, but, then again, so were they.

"The clasp broke about a year ago, the rest is all original. Pure gold, willing to sell it for a good offer. The guy at the pawn tried to undersell me, I know what I've got."

Tyler's chest warms, that sarcastic, witty humor he'd missed back in full force.

"Do you take alternate forms of payment?" He pulls her in by her waist with a cocky grin.

"Depends, Owens, what did you have in mind?"

He cocks his eyebrow, giving her a sort of contemplative look as his hands rest on the small of her back, hers around his neck.

"Well, I still owe you about-," He lifts his hand from around her and pretends to count on his fingers. "A billion apologies, we could chase this stunner of a storm, drop these characters back off at the motel, find us an empty field, and I could apologize like I used to...maybe?"

She shakes her head and pulls him in for a heated kiss. They're both smiling so hard its hardly a kiss, but the feelings are there.

"You've got yourself a deal, but I'm keeping the necklace."

"Wouldn't have it any other way, baby." He kisses her head, pulling her back towards his group of friends, who were now whistling at the pair, obviously catching the interaction. "Fair warning, after he finds out just who you are, Boone's likely to fall in love with you."

She raises her eyebrow, pulling away and heading towards the motley crew ahead of her.

"Guess you'll just have to chase me next."

-

taglist:

@fraaaaankiiiiieee

[reidrum]

like i would | s.r

pairing: spencer reid x bau!fem!reader

a/n: ok im gonna be honest idk how i feel about this one, i just wanted to finish it and put it out so apologies in advance if its not the best lol. this was requested with the prompt "i bet he can't fuck you like i can"! feedback and reblogs are always appreciated ! thanks for being paitent while i got this one out <3

cw: 18+ minors dni, smut, fingering, munch!spencer, jealous!spencer, unprotected p in v (wrap it before you whack it), reader's bf has a name which i hate in fics but its so hard to write this trope without a name so, afab!reader,

summary: a confession about your sex life makes it's way to the one person you'd hope wouldn't hear, and now he's determined to rectify the way you've been wronged

wc: 4.5k

_____________

you were a great asset to the bau. it was why you were personally recommended by emily to transfer out of sex crimes, the skill set you brought alongside the field training you had proved to be vital for the team’s success lately. you were also a great asset to the team. the bau was notorious for having people turnover fast, and you knew they were apprehensive with newcomers. but you managed to hit it off with every single member, one more than others.

spencer reid did not expect someone like you to join the team. not that he didn’t have faith in your talents and skills, he’s read your file and obviously knows you’re more than qualified to be here. he just did not expect someone who looked like you to join the team, someone who didn’t look beaten down by the horrors of the world and still believed in pots of gold at the end of rainbows. 

it didn’t help that you were so beautiful he literally would feel his heart ache when you walked in. like literally, would have to rub his chest to soothe the pain. and as spencer would, he would logic out his feelings with science because that’s all they are, scientific chemical reactions in the body. but what he felt in your friendship, what he felt when he was lucky enough to be in your presence, was something no textbook, theorem, or equation could explain.

so imagine the size of the fucking hammer coming down on his head when he finds out you have a boyfriend who: 1. is not him, and 2. is an actual real life bozo.

apparently you’d been seeing damon from organized crime for about a month now, that’s what he heard from penelope, and you ‘claim’ to be super happy. 

spencer doesn’t buy it.

he’s seen the way your ‘relationship’ operates, and he’s got the facts to back it up. damon never lets you get a word in when you’re in group settings, even purposefully talking over you when you’re clearly attempting to speak. majority of the time he’s condescending about your job as a profiler for the bau, saying that him and his team bring down drug rings, but you guys ‘just read their horoscope or whatever and decide the killer.’

it made spencer’s blood boil hotter than the sun. he couldn’t figure out why you put up with it, and why you continue to.

the final straw that broke the camel's back about his disapproval on your relationship choices, is what he overheard on the jet one time on the way back from a case.

the girls were talking in the back of the jet, unaware of spencer’s very awake mind despite his visibly sleeping body.

“i don’t know guys,” you had started with a sigh, “you think it’s weird right?”

“that your own boyfriend won’t go down on you? yeah hon, that’s fucking weird.” emily strikes.

“what did he say exactly?” jj asked.

“he said it increases the risk of STIs on the mouth? and doesn’t like the feeling of thighs crushing his head? and that even with all the … grooming … it’s still unnatural ?”

emily gagged while jj continued, “um…but do you like…on him?”

“yes! he literally won’t touch me unless i do!” you rage whisper.

“i am about to give him an organized crime to deal with,” emily half jokes, “what an asshole, why are you still with him?”

“i don’t know, he’s still nice to me i guess, and maybe i’m just being dramatic. or maybe i’m just not someone people go down on, who knows.” you sigh.

spencer stops listening, he can’t hear you talk so poorly of yourself. not when it’s so far from the truth yet you’ve been indoctrinated to think it’s accurate. how anyone could take advantage of you like that is beyond him, but it did light a fire inside of him and made him determined to help you realize you deserve so much better. if that happens to be him, then who is he to fight that?

—

spencer doesn’t get his chance to prove it to you for another two weeks, when you’d come over to his apartment for a movie night after getting in a fight with damon, your date night being canceled and leading you to spencer’s doorsteps, all dolled up with tears lining your eyes asking to come in.

he doesn’t even have time to be mad at your shithole boyfriend when he’s ushering you inside, offering you to sit on the couch while he goes and put a kettle on the stove for tea.

“i’m really sorry to just show up like this, spence.”

he doesn’t even blink before calling out from the kitchen, “don’t apologize, i’m always here for you. anytime and anywhere.”

you give him a soft smile before returning your gaze to the soft glow of doctor who.

he returns cradling two mugs in one hand and a pack of haribo gummies in the other. spencer doesn’t care for gummies, he’s more of a chocolate guy, but he knows it’s your favorite. so he makes sure to keep a couple bags in his apartment for you.

“my favorite!” you gush. his heart warms at your smile as he sits next to you on the couch. you naturally gravitate towards him to lean your head on his shoulder, and it’s automatic for spencer to wrap an arm around your shoulders to pull you closer.

the whirs and whooshes of the tardis fill the silence for the next hour as you visibly become calmer than when you first arrived. he decides this is a good time to ask, “do you want to talk about it?” as he turns his head to look at you.

“i don’t know,” you say quietly popping another gummy in, “i’m starting to believe it's just a me problem. like, maybe i’m just objectively not a great partner, and that’s why we keep getting in these fights. you know this time, he said i’m not worth all the effort and stress i bring him and that because of me he’s gonna bald at 29? i’m not a scientist like you or anything but even i know that, at least, can’t be my fault.” you end with a chuckle.

spencer knows he should probably comfort you in this time of honesty you’ve graced him with, squash your insecurities like a pesky bug on the windshield, and tell you how beautiful you are in as many words it’ll take for you to believe it (and he knows a lot of words).

but right now? he’s just fucking pissed.

not at you, never at you. at your situation, yes. at that sorry excuse of a partner let alone agent, immensely.

so he can’t help what escapes his mouth next, “why do you let yourself get treated like shit?”

you look up at him in surprise, at both the cursing and what he said, “what?”

“you’re constantly talking about how awful he treats you, and yet everyday you still go back to him knowing it’s going to repeat the next day. i just want to know why you don’t respect yourself enough to not let that happen to you.”

pulling away to sit far from him on the couch,  you start letting the annoyance show on your face, “spencer, that’s not fair at all. you think it’s my fault? do you really think i want to feel like this?”

“yes!” he shouts, “you seem like you do with how much you crawl back to him everytime, and everytime you let him back in.”

“okay, i think i should go,” you stand up and grab your things, “it was a mistake to come here, goodbye spencer.”

he grabs your wrist before you can get too far, “i just have to know, what is it?”

“what’s what spence, let me go.”

“what keeps you going back to him, it can’t be because you love him. it’s obviously not because you’re happy with him,” he lets out.

“you don’t know anything about me or my life, spencer!” you snatch away your arm and start heading towards the door.

“it’s definitely not because the sex is good, because i know it’s not.”

any emotion you had on your face wipes away like an etch a sketch, staring blankly at the door, hearing the man you’ve harbored a crush on since you started at the bureau years ago, telling you he knows your sex life is abysmal.

your voice comes out small, “h- how would you know that?” you don’t dare to turn around, knowing that if you did any resolve you held onto, any denial of emotions you’ve stripped from yourself would come pouring out like a broken dam.

the couch groans at a loss of weight, and the floorboards creak closer and closer to you.

“i heard you, on the jet.”

you’re especially glad he can’t see the blood draining from your face. if your heart already wasn’t at your feet, it’s most likely six feet under at this point. 

he heard you?

“when you were talking with the others about how he doesn’t reciprocate, and won’t sleep with you unless you get him off.” he continues.

the room is getting hotter by the millisecond, temperature about to be comparable to the sun’s core. it’s one thing to have just anyone hear the intimate details of your life, but spencer? the man to which you’d been using damon to get over?

the only sound that can be heard is your increasingly heavy breathing, and spencer feels like he’s caught a fish on his line and is ready to reel you in as he inches closer to you.

“you’re okay with that? not being taken care of in the way you deserve?”

his presence is merely nanometers behind you, the ghost of his fingers looking for landing on your hips. when you don’t move away, and he hears your breath hitch at the contact, he sets his hands more earnestly on your curves as he leans down to the nape of your neck.

“just don’t know,” kiss, “how anyone,” kiss, “wouldn’t want,” kiss, “to give you everything.” kiss.

your head lolls back onto his firm chest as he whispers in your ear, “cat got your tongue, sweetheart? you were so mouthy not even five minutes ago. be honest with me, has he even ever made you come?”

the whimpers escape you without warning and you find a single decibel of voice to speak, “spencer…” hoping the whine would dissuade him to let it go.

“uh uh, i asked you a question,” his arm tightens around the front of your waist to press back and fully feel him, “answer me.”

your lexicon has depleted except for the one word you know he’s desperately waiting for you to say, and the one he knows is the answer. yet you know the second it leaves your mouth, everything changes. and maybe you’re okay with that.

“no.”

spencer hums lowly, “has anyone made you come?”

“no.” you say again, softer this time.

“should we change that?”

this was not what you expected when you came to see him after your failed night out. the amount of processing you’d done in the last year to essentially not be thinking about spencer 24/7 was extensive. and you were ready to render it all useless in a matter of seconds.

so you let the strap of your bag fall down your arm and hit the ground with a thud, and finally turned around to look the good doctor in his eyes. while his voice held traces of anger and frustration, you came to see his eyes were full of reassurance and comfort, the spence you always knew to prioritize your wellbeing more than anything.

he looked down at you and slid his hand to up to cup your jaw, and he hears the smallest murmur, so delicate yet so full of want leave your lips.

“yes.”

that was all spencer needed to catch your lips in a heated kiss, moving your body to the closest wall as he places a hand behind your head to protect you from the wall’s impact while the other pins your waist to the wall.

you move your arms to wrap around his neck and keep him pinned to you with no escape, like he’d ever want to. his lips detach from yours and make a descent towards your neck again, taking deliberate effort to locate the sensitive spots.

he finds one just behind your ear and spends time sucking and bruising up the spot, relishing in the soft whimpers leaving your mouth. while you’re lost in the sensation on your neck, you don’t notice spencer move one of his hands closer to the button of your pants, effortlessly (and impressively) opening it up.

detaching from your neck with a heavy pant, he moves back to lean against your forehead with his own and look you in the eyes to ask, “is this okay? we can stop if you want, i didn’t mean to be so forw-“

“please don’t stop.”

he searches your eyes for any conflict and finds none, considering it the okay to continue his downward descent. he returns his lips to the second home they’ve made on your lips and starts to push your pants down over the curve of your ass, leaving your panties on.

the flash of purple lace underwear glares at him when he glances down, and suddenly he remembers what got him in this position in the first place.

“were you wearing this for him?” he lets out condescendingly, “you really think he deserved to see you like this?”

spencer’s fingers brush against your front, leaving your heavy breaths hitting him in the face. you can’t think of anything to say. hell, you’re not even sure if you know any words right now. all you can offer is a pathetic moan, and spencer doesn’t think that’s enough.

“come on, don’t get all shy now. what were you expecting him to even do, hm? thought you said he didn’t care about making you feel good.” he taunts as his middle finger traces the outlines of your cunt through your panties.

you shudder at the contact, leaning your head back against the wall as he refuses to break eye contact. he’s waiting for you to say something, raising his eyebrows expectantly as he’s slowed down his movements on you. taking a shallow breath you open your mouth, “h-, he didn’t care, just thought if i ke-, kept looking nice he’d wanna, fuck, do something.” you moan out.

“and did he?” he moved his hand back up to slowly slip into your panties.

his finger dips all the way down to your entrance to gather your wetness and spread it all the way back up to your clit, your mouth dropping open as you let out a whiny, “no.”

“what a shame.” he dips a finger into your hole and you let out a pornographic moan.

he drags his finger in and out slowly making sure to watch your face as it contorts in pleasure. once he feels you’ve gotten used to it he slips in a second finger, increasing the pace and moving his thumb to circle your clit again.

“oh fuck,” you cry.

“baby, you’re so tight.” he whispers. the way you clenched around his two digits made feel almost pussy drunk, and he wasn’t even inside you yet. he starts to wonder if damon was doing anything really to prioritize your pleasure, and it only just worked him up more. he felt more determined to bring you to finish, so he picks up the pace and increases the pressure on your clit.

you drop your head to his shoulder no longer being able to hold yourself up anymore, the sensation of his fingers on you taking over, loose whimpers and moans falling out of your mouth every other second.

“spencer…shit, i’m gonna come…”

“let go for me, baby.” he whispers in your ear.

the pleasure barrels through you like a wrecking ball, knocking the wind out of your mind and body. your legs turn into jelly and you almost fall before spencer holds you up. you try to regulate your breathing into his shoulder, hoping to calm down before you look up and meet his eyes again.

he makes that choice for you when he gingerly lifts your head up, his eyes silently asking if you’re okay. you don’t even bother responding before softly pressing your lips to his again, hoping he can feel your response to his silent question.

the kiss picks up in urgency, and soon his hands are back to exploring your body again. they slide down to the backs of your thighs while he murmurs a small, “jump.” and lifts you to wrap your legs around his waist. without breaking the kiss he walks you both to his bedroom and places you on his bed with care.

his fists flank you on both sides as he leans down to kiss you, and he moves further down kissing along your neck and chest. you reach down to the bottom of your top to pull it over your head, leaving you in the purple lacy bra that matches your panties.

he detaches from you and stands at full height, gazing at the sight of you spread out on his bed with your hair framing you like a halo. he can’t even help himself when he says, “you look so beautiful, angel.” the blush rises to your cheeks, and you beckon him to come back down to which he happily obliges.

spencer moves down further towards your hips, and his lips ghost over the lace band spreading along your waist. his fingers play with the fabric and he moves his face to be directly in line with your clothed cunt. your breathing gets heavy, and you anticipate what he’s about to do.

“wait, you don’t, you don’t have to do that, spence. i already came.” starting to feel a bit guilty at the man above you potentially feeling obligated to do this, as you realize that if he heard you on the jet, he heard about the one thing damon refused to do for you.

“sweetheart, i’d love to keep making you feel good as long as you let me, okay? you gonna let me make you feel good?” he breaths, pressing chaste kisses to your inner thighs.

you give a slight nod and he gently pulls your panties off your legs, marveling at the light glistening off your cunt. he kisses up the plush of your thighs before pausing right where you need him the most. you look down at him and meet his unwavering eyes full of love.

he places a long kiss to your core before licking a long stripe. you moan out languishly, the euphoric feeling taking over every sense in your body. you’re unable to comprehend how you went so long without feeling this, it almost feels criminal. and the way spencer was eating you out, felt like this was doing it for him too even though you were the one getting pleasured. 

it turned you on even more to know he was getting off on how much you were enjoying this. your head was spinning off into another realm, and the only thing tethering you to this reality was the grip of your hands in his hair. his tongue made circles and shapes all over your cunt before dipping down to thrust into your hole.

your thighs shake and threaten to clamp shut on his head, and he uses his wide hands to wrap around your thighs to hold them in place. “oh my god fuck, that feels so good…spence…please..” you’re not even sure what you’re begging for, but of course, spencer does when he adds a finger into your hole and moves his tongue to focus back on your clit. the combined sensations were enough to tip you over the edge for the second time tonight, your release glistening on his chin as he moved back up to kiss your lips again.

your heavy panting tries to bring you back down from your high, a mix of sweat and the taste of you lingering everywhere. 

spencer smooths your hair back as he moves his body to lie next to you, “i think, damon’s a fucking loser, if he doesn’t think that’s worth doing.” he says between pants.

you hum in agreement, or just in acknowledgement at whatever he said since you’re still reeling from the endorphin release. hiking your leg over his body to straddle him, you clumsily reach for his belt and attempt to undo the clasps to reach his growing member. you pull his pants down and palm him through his boxers, reveling in the broken moans falling from his mouth. you start inching downwards when spencer grabs you by the forearms and flips you over so you’re back on the bed staring up at him.

“not tonight, sweetheart. it’s about you right now, wanna make sure you know what you deserve.”

“but…” you pathetically respond.

“i don’t know what that neanderthal tells you, but sex is not transactional. i think if i ever see that guy again, i’d punch him for making you think otherwise.”

the words go straight to your core, turning you on even more. spencer takes note of how your pupils widen and your chin tilts up towards him.

“besides,” he presses his crotch to yours, “the sex wasn’t even that good with him, right?”

you moan out again, unable to find words to satisfy his question. he leans back up and off the bed to fully remove his boxers and you finally get a good look at what was underneath.

holy fuck, he was huge. you propped yourself on your forearms to get a better look at him, and watched as he lazily stroked himself while he sauntered back over to you. the image was so lewd, you hoped you could borrow some of his eidetic memory so you could hold on to this moment forever.

his face held a smug smirk at your awestruck one, and he felt his ego inflate even higher, “by the looks of your reaction, i’m guessing he’s never been much of a, challenge, for you in bed has he?”

you dumbly shake your head no, “definitely not as big as you.” you whisper, more to yourself than him.

his smirk grows wider, “don’t worry, baby, i’ll take real good care of you.” he says as he climbs over you to line himself up to your entrance.

you feel him slowly start to push in, the sensation of being split open growing bigger by the second. your brows furrow and your eyes are shut tight as you wait for the pressure to turn into pleasure.

if spencer thought you around his fingers had him pussydrunk, what he’s feeling now has to be close to pussy poisoning or something because he cannot think of anything in existence that feels as good as the walls of your cunt clenching around his cock. it’s taking everything in him to not break, to just fuck you senseless and reach his peak.

once his hips are flush with yours and he’s fully settled within you, he waits for you to give him the okay to move.

you, on the other hand, have never felt more full ever. damon was not nearly this big, nor has any other guy you’ve been with. it’s a bit of a miracle on how it fit inside you, and how it felt better than anything you could’ve imagined. the pressure and slight pain subsides, and with a slight nod spencer takes the cue to start moving.

the first thrust has you both moaning out in harmony together, and he sets the pace nice and slow so as to make sure you’re comfortable.

but it's not enough for you, you need him to fuck you.

“spence…harder.”

he stills at your word, leaning up so he’s perpendicular to you.

“whatever you say, princess.”

and he starts pounding into you, hips rutting at a pace you can’t even keep up with. the whimpers and moans gush out as the familiar coil begins to build within you. he taps your leg to lift it up over his shoulder to allow him deeper access, and he’s able to reach that one spot you’d heard about from all your friends, on reddit, in movies. you had no idea this type of feeling even existed, and spencer was hitting it with precision every single thrust over and over.

“fuck,” you whine.

“that feel good, baby?” he teases, “the way you’re squeezing my cock so tight, i doubt that fucker ever made you feel like this, huh?”

your tits bounce with every thrust, and the deepened angle has you reaching your climax fast. spencer feels it too and drops his head to whisper in your ear.

“i bet he’s never fucked you like this,” he continues his taunt, “he’d never be able to fuck you like i can, make you come three times in one night like i can.”

you whimper, “spencer,”

“say it, sweetheart. say no one’s ever fucked you like me.”

he was trying to kill you, death during intercourse would be a crazy way to go out but it’s a fate you’d be willing to accept. nonetheless, you comply.

“never ever, fuck, been fucked like you, baby.”

spencer has never felt more satisfied, “good girl, now come.” and with a final thrust he lets you reach your peak as he releases himself into you.

in the midst of groans he gingerly pulls out of you and you whimper at the loss.

the next few minutes are just filled with the sounds of yours and his heavy breathing, before spencer leans over to you, “was that too much?”

still in your daze you let out a soft giggle, “spencer, i think you’ve ruined all men for me.”

he smiles back, “i meant what i said, damon’s really stupid if he’s not willing to do all that for you.”

you intertwine your hand with his, “you know, i never really liked him anyway. i was just using him to get over you.”

“me?” he says incredulously.

you nod, “i didn’t know if you would’ve felt the same so i just tried to move on to someone else, stupid i know, but i don’t know it made sense then.”

he pulls you closer to rest in the crevice of his chest, “i have been into you since the day you walked into the bullpen, and letting you slip through my fingers is a mistake i will never make again.”

you hug him tightly before groaning out loud, “shit, i have to tell damon it’s over now don’t i.”

“i mean, i could tell him if you want.”

“spence, no. i think you might kill him.” you laugh, “i can do it, i just don’t want him to get all ‘organized crime’ on me.”

“just tell him i have a gun.”

“so does he?”

“mine’s bigger.” he smirks.

you roll your eyes, “well, yes.”

[aly4khq]

A DRAGON'S LAIR! ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ⋆*

— sum: You were exploring Tarus city as a self mission, trying to find the dragon who was told to have lived in the city for many years to come. You thought that you would encounter barely anything, but you were ever so wrong.

— characters: dragon!sylus

— warnings: pining, he tops ur clothes, double penetrartion (he had too dicks), improper use of his tail, manhandling, biting, fuckin from behind. (if i have missed any, please inform me!)

— wc: 1,746

You've never been one to lerk into unknown territory or to find refuge in a random city that you learnt about in a history book — it's never been in your nature at all. But once you saw the posters, you knew that it was a place of worship and surprise.

Tarus city, a city where it's been claimed to have a dragon that laid in the depths of a special cave. The cave was highly risky for any normal human being, I mean, the image that laid on the posters was frightening enough to keep away tourists. The unusually greyish-red that scattered around the cave's entrance, moving around like a line circling a branch, a black thick coating around it which looked like claws when compared to each other, the singular hand on the top leading to the cave like it was inviting you.

You loved mythical creatures so this was a field day for you, you needed to go.

There was also a garden which yearly grew beautiful flowers there, crimson in colour and rose in shape. They scattered everywhere, and they seemed to have been planted by a very skilled gardener — if there even was one back in the early years of life. Oh how you'd love to distress by rolling in there after a long day, what a dream.

But you weren't just there for the cool looking dragon, you were there for the sword. Like that playground sword that you had to remove from the ground, and whoever could move it was the 'chosen one', there was one that laid outside the cave, imbedded in the beautiful scenery of flowers and healthy grass with its delicate pattern leaving you with mysteries.

"Where did it come from?" "What does it symbolise?" "How did it get there out of all places?"

Who owned it?

Well, let's just say that you weren't too scared to find out. You needed answers and if you had to dig into a random mythical cave then you will. Despite the lack of information, you searched up any little tips to help you navigate inside of a cave.

You needed to be prepared, and properly prepared.

After a while of constant climbing and exploring the beautiful long yards of greenery, you stood face to face with the cave that was feared the most back in Linkon City, aka the Dragon's Lair. In the papers, it looked like absolute horror capturing in a frame but in person, it was gorgeous.

The cave was expanded and opened for anyone to come into, and you'd did just that. Entering the cave, you turned on the flashlight you brought, seeing insta treasures of many different kinds of art scattered around the walls of the cave. "Wow...this is cool..." you softly murmured to yourself, still engrossed in the scenery—

...what the hell was that?

A deep and raged growl sped through the walls of the cave like air, filling your eyes with an intense sound. Hissing, the growl's sound waves led you to an expanded room, where a big bed-like item was in the front, surrounding by more jewels of ancient treasures. You found yourself searching around, looking for what this place could've belonged to.

And after 5 minutes, you dug in, "What's the worst that could happen?"

Searching the amazing rich items on the floor, your bag got heavier and heavier with time. Each jewel that caught your eye went in. Some of them even had ancient symbols on them, now that's a lot of money.

But, a singular gem caught your eye. It was a necklace that had a black substance scattered all over it, laying on the bed that was in the middle of the room. "Oh?" your hand went out, curious, "This is peculiar."

The necklace was a beautiful golden chain, wrapping with ancient knots and twists so it was bonded together perfectly. On both sides of the pendants scattered around the necklace, there were small, very intricate patterns dented into the metal. It had a pocture of a dragon on the front, and it...was weirdly shaped. Like the top half was crossed out, but forget that, you just found a good millions of money in your hands.

"Well, that's been a nice journey here cave, thanks for the new finds and...yeah. I'll be going."

You turned for the entrance where you came from, and it was blocked off by a large bolder. "Huh..? Why...who?"

You turned around to find a way to get out when a tail wrapped around your waist, pulling you down to your knees in a rapid manner. You scrapped your knee on the harsh carpet. "Ah! Hah...ow.." You tired to arise from your forced position when you heard a deep voice.

"Were you never taught of etiquette? Or was it just you who missed out?"

He boomed over you, a...handsome man. He was silver hair, crimson eyes and weird black claws and a tail. His clothes bleeding in with his skin.

This isn't the dragon. I mean, it's a literally human being?

"Etiquette? Who are you?" You replied back harshly, not thinking before you spoke. Remembering quickly, it was too late, his tail went around your body before whipping the skin behind you thighs. You yelped, cursing the man-dragon above you.

"You!—" "Me what?"

He arose from his throne, walkijg menacingly to grab your waist before pulling you up to your feet. He turned you around, your back against his toned chest. His hand went over your chin and upper neck, pushing your head back to his shoulder with a smirk.

"Maybe I should teach you," he bite your collarbone before growling, "how to respect a dragon's cave."

"Gahh—Ugggg, you're so deep!—"

"Focus."

That same dragon had you bent over the same drawer you had stolen from, your clothes ripped from his sharp claws just where you soaked pussy was.Your back arched like never before and his hand still around your chin, his teeth biting and sucking on your collarbone with delight. His hips were slow but deep, reaching your cervix with long strokes, his dick sending you into a wave of pleasure.

"What's the answer?"

He'd made you write down the rules of entering his cave again, the pencil shaking vigorously in your trembling hands. The paper soaking up your falling tears as you begged and pleaded with the man above you. "Hahh— Sylus— please...! Please! I might just—"

His tail traveled down your clit, gently caressing it with the peek of the tail. "Write it down, or I'll do even worse." He threatened, and you obeyed, grabbing the pencil and harshly writing down, "I will be respectfu—"

"Ah!!" His hip gave you a sharp thrust, a warning to behave and write properly. His hand groping your wee cheeks to the point that you could feel his claws digging into your flesh. "You have one more chance." With every word, he thrusted harder until you shrieked, your body bending more forward to escape his powerful hips, you pussy squeezes into the life out of him.

Your hands went back, trying to push his pelvis away from you. "Hm?" He hummed, his eyebrow rising before you hear a chuckle, "Want me to slow down sweetie?" His voice was playful, yet you nodded quickly anyway.

"Too bad." 



He sped up, his hips snapping so fast with your to the point where it echoed in the room. Your hands banged on the drawer, lookijg for a way to soothe to intense pleasure that you were being given. You couldn't even speak, your face fucked out and your body slowly weakening.

"S-Sy...luss...I can't...! Please..." You begged, trying to find a better way to convince him to give you a break. His dick the was so deep that you thought that it was two dicks at once. It felt so huge, and more struggle.

The stretch was too much, you yelled, "Sylus! Why is it—" You gasped loudly, relent that he had two massive ducks in you at the moment, both of them lodged deep in your pussy. In that moment, you nearly passed out. "Ahh ah hah...hahh!!" You cried out, tensing, "Pleaseee..."

"You're fine, just one more." Sylus cheered on, his tail moving up to caress your back, travelling down the straight line. His tail met your ass, gently put slowly digging it into your other hole, "No! No no, please, i can't, please," Your whole body was shaking, your sweat coating your skin.

"Mhm, fine, for now." Sylus replied in a teasing tone before continuing to roll his hips into yours, and by that tight squeeze he knew that you were close. You stood a little, crying, "I can feel it!— I need to pee—Why does it feel like I need to pee?!—"

He reassured you, speaking in your ear, "It's normal, you're fine, just relax." You wasn't breathing at all. He grabbed your chin again before ordering you, "Cum."

Your orgasm hit you, your lungs not being able to take in oxygen due to the sheer force of your release. The intense feeling was still shocking you, your hands braking some of the wood of the drawer due to your grip. Your legs shaking like no ever before you felt his claws tap your chest, "Hey, Breathe."

You took a deep breath in before covering your mouth, instantly being met with fatigue. "I need a rest...I can't feel myself..." Sylus chuckled at your position, his hand goijg around your waist to carry you to his bed. "It's okay, you took both off my dicks, well done."

"I knew you'd come along," Sylus hummed, "so just relax my Queen, I'll take care of you.

this is not proofread! i was too eager to post so sorry hotties!

@ aly4khq, do not plagiarise, translate or copy my work. (30/11/24)

[melminli]

Dirty Cash (Money Talks)

summary - you had nothing against your colleague, but you weren't stupid enough to be fooled by his innocent smile and appearance since you knew exactly what kind of corrupt person was hiding behind that costume. after all, you were wearing the same one.

pairing: (gong yoo/ji-cheol) the salesman x fem. recruiter reader

word count: 1.4k

contains: talk about gambling + death and murder, sexual tension?, crack and just evil morals tbh

a/n: i watched maybe the first fifteen minutes or so of bullet train, but i thought of the two funny dudes from it while writing this bcuz their dynamic was funny af. also, i will use the actor's name in this fic since the character itself doesn't really have an official one that was mentioned in the series!

You straightened your tie with your free hand while watching your train approach from the side. The station was always pretty empty at this hour, which saved you the jostling and squeezing as you entered. After that, you sat down comfortably with a light sigh - next to the free seat beside your devilishly handsome colleague. “Are you alright? Don't tell me that you had a exhausting day?” he asked you worriedly with his typical innocent smile on his face but you've known the guy for a while now and you knew exactly how dishonest he sounded right now.

You returned his gaze for a second, uninterested, before turning it back in front of you to observe your surroundings from the window. “Exhausting day? Don't make fun of me or I'll punch you in the face,” you replied monotone and Gong Yoo didn't doubt your statement for a second - or Ji-cheol as you preferred to call him since you weren't a big fan of nicknames. “I had a great time punching those bastards in the face one by one. It feels kinda therapeutic, so I'm actually feeling pretty good right now,” you told him, talking about the subject as if you were talking about the weather.

Your colleague grunted with delight at your good news. “And I would never disagree with you on that.” he said and then just watched your figure silently for a while before speaking up again. “Since you're in such a good mood, would you be willing to play a more private game between the two of us?” he suggested, making you look at him in utter disbelief.

“A private game? With you?” you repeated, amused and laughed in his face. “Hell, no. But don't worry, I'll let you know next time I want to get totally screwed by a freaky pervert,” you added, your voice dripping with sarcasm. Which will be, never.

“Come on, don't be like that,” he asked you sweetly. As sweet as the wolf who pretended to be the mother of the seven little goats before he ate them all one by one. “It's just a tiny, harmless game. It's been so long since we've played anything together.” he complained to you earnestly as if you actually cared, and you didn't.

Yeah, you remembered the last time very clearly, even if you would much rather prefer that you didn't. You hummed. “Is that so? Huh. I mean, it could be because you almost killed me in a fucking game of tic-tac-toe the last time, but that's just a theory.” You said with a shrug, clearly still resenting him for that. However, he just rolled his eyes unaffected by your grudge. “But you didn't, right? It was the other guy who got the bullet in his head.” He replied, not even remembering his name. Not that he had to.

You just glared at him while you rubbed your forehead. “Yeah, maybe. But I'm tired of risking my life just because it makes you horny and you can jerk off to it.” You made your feelings on the matter clear. “You know that the whole living on the edge of death thing isn't really my cup of tea. At least try to understand me a bit here, too.”

I suppose she's not entirely wrong, I could give it a try. I never thought about it like that before, did I? He thought to himself in his head as he ran his tongue over the back of his teeth while he pondered. How selfish of me. “So what exactly do I have to do, to convince you?” He asked you while he already had a few ideas in mind.

You grinned. “You know that very well, don't play dumb.” You demanded as you leaned closer to him so that he could hear what you were singing softly. “Money talks, money talks - dirty cash, I want you, and dirty cash, I need you, oh ~”

He raised an eyebrow, not particularly surprised. “So you want to play for money?” He repeated it, not outright rejecting your request. “Don't you have enough of that already? You're really insatiable when it comes to cash and now you want mine, too?” he joked just to get you worked up.

Though, you didn't get the slightest bit offended by what he said. “Can you ever have enough money? Besides, I'm not forcing you to give it to me, am I?” you said with a smile, already knowing that he would agree to your terms. “But if you want me to play with you, I want eight million won for every round I win.”

She's so greedy for someone who is already more than wealthy. “Aren't you exaggerating a bit? Most people don't earn that much in a month,” he continued his act of - whatever this was - because he just loved arguing with you.

“So? We both have the same salary, I know you can afford it,” you said, holding a hand in the air as soon as you felt that he wanted to stretch this unnecessary conversation even more. “You have to decide now what you want to do or I withdraw my proposal again.”

Gong Yoo closed his mouth and started grinning even wider. “You don't even want to know what kind of game I want to play?” he asked curiously, nodding and accepting whatever you wanted as soon as he saw that you actually weren't interested. You couldn't even imagine how gladly he gave in to you at this moment. “All right, I agree with your request.”

You stood up with your briefcase in hand after your station was announced. “Good. Text me when you have something in mind, I'll be there as long as it fits timewise.”

Your colleague continued to watch you with a look on his face that used to make you more than just uncomfortable back in the day - though, it didn't even bother you in the slightest now. “You don't want to accompany me to the...office?”

You smiled while the train started to slow down. “Au revoir, Ji-cheol.” you just said your goodbye to him and stepped out of the doors. You didn't even spare the poor guy a second glance when he waved his hand at you from the window. She can be so heartless sometimes, he thought to himself, even if you were like this pretty much all the time. I'll have to think of something good to ask for in return should I win. I'm definitely not going to hold back when there's this much money at stake.

You didn't give a second thought to anything as you made your way home after a day's work like any normal citizen would do. However, your steps slowed considerably when you noticed a beggar in your field of vision and even though the rest of the crowd ignored the man and his entire existence, you couldn't help but focus your full attention on him. You looked at your watch, I've been off work for a while now. But even then, you couldn't help but notice that he was one of the people on your list to recruit for the game. He'll still be here tomorrow, but I don't mind another round of Ddakji. I love money more than anything - but I'm not doing this job for only that.

“Excuse me,” you spoke to the man with a polite smile on your face, and he only submissively avoided your gaze as he listened to you. After all, one rarely approached people like him and why would they? He held his cup of loose change out in front of him, probably expecting you to give him a small donation, but you wanted to give him so much more than that. Even if the guy didn't know it right now - you wanted to give him another chance in life, so that he wouldn't continue to be just a miserable failure.

You ignored his donation cup. “I was wondering if you might have a moment because I'd like to make you an offer,” you continued politely and the man met your gaze at that. Yeah, you were really looking forward to what was about to happen - after all, you were known for letting your opponent only win if you allowed them to.