#and then this morning I opened again and I spent my sh

[therealvalkyrie]

bath + asparagus time

[darkmatilda]

𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: if you were to look back, you would realize you had loved him forever. from the first glance, well, the first conversation in the garage of your family home during the christmas. but although time passed and you did everything you could to get his attention, you eventually realized he would never love you the way he loved your sister. the way you loved him.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐰: spencer reid x jareau!female!reader, angst, looots of angst prepare some tissues, unrequited love, reader is a theater/drama student, comparing herself to her sister, feeling of not being enough, unsupportive family, extremely overdramatic, the reader is delusional af and obsessively in love, reader smokes, inspired by lana's song "tomorrow never came"

𝐚/𝐧: it'a a request from lovely @lillaberry you asked me about my fav lana's song and i had huge problem with choosing just one, probably sth from "norman f*cking rockwell" like happiness is a butterfly or mariners apartment complex :> i have no idea what happened, but at some point, this story just started living its own life, i don't like it

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 7.4k

Your friends always joked about how quickly you fell in love.

All it took was one interaction with someone—a small gesture, words that impressed you, a lingering glance, or holding a door open. And you were utterly smitten.

A psychologist would later tell you it probably stemmed from a lack of male attention during your upbringing. You shared one father with two sisters, and he couldn’t give you all the care and attention you needed. Then, he completely dropped off the radar. He left, and you were left with just your mom and JJ. Just the two of them.

Coming back, you weren’t a heartbreaker, a woman jumping from flower to flower. Maybe you fell in love quickly, but faithfully. A bit obsessively, as others said, but you preferred to call it “with all of yourself.” It sounded more poetic, subtle, and didn’t create an image in your mind of yourself dressed in a straitjacket, banging against the walls of a room without doors. Coming back again, this particular stage of your love life began exactly on Christmas Day, your first after starting college.

Since Dad left and your sister—well, you spent them very intimately. Mom prepared two, maybe three dishes, Aunt Martha brought a Pecan Pie (from the store, but pretended she baked it herself), and you and JJ baked gingerbread cookies early in the morning, decorating them for half the day. You were just shoving two gingerbread cookies into your mouth at once, leaning with your elbows on the kitchen counter, while your sister was busy setting the table.

"So, when is your friend arriving?" you asked, a few crumbs falling from your mouth. You brushed them off the counter and onto the floor.

 "He should be here in about fifteen minutes. If he arrives earlier, he'll probably wait by the door until the exact hour strikes. That's Spencer," JJ snorted, smoothing her hands over the red tablecloth. "And stop saying friend like that. There's really nothing between us."

"Uh-huh. And that's why you invited him here for Christmas?"

She leaned against her hip, looking at you more seriously.

"Not everyone has the chance to spend the day with their loved ones. I didn't want him to be alone, okay?"

You raised your hands in mock surrender, still holding a gingerbread in one as a defensive gesture. Your sister sounded almost stern, just like your mom. Speaking of mom, someone slapped your hand.

"For god's sake, you're going to eat all the gingerbread. Do something, help JJ. Aunt Martha will be here soon..."

"She'll be fifteen minutes late, like always. She read somewhere that the Queen of England does that.”

"And when will your friend arrive?" Mom ignored your critical remark and turned to your older sister.

She had already opened her mouth to answer, probably saying the same thing she told you, when the doorbell rang.

 "It must be him," she said and went to let him in.

 Mom subtly adjusted her hairstyle.

 "I saw that," you muttered.

"Oh, be quiet," she shot back.

Two people walked into the living room, where, in addition to a huge Christmas tree, there was also a fireplace decorated with spruce ornaments and stockings. The first was, of course, your sister, and the second was a tall man with an almost boyish face. Slim, you might even say, skinny. He was dressed elegantly, in a light shirt with a tie peeking out from under a black vest, the tie neatly tied at his neck. You immediately had the impression that he dressed like this every day, simply by the fact that everything fit him so well. Years ago, your second sister decided to introduce her boyfriend to your parents. He wanted to impress them with his elegant appearance, but even though you were very young at the time, you clearly remembered how uncomfortable he seemed in that kind of clothing, constantly adjusting something.

"You must be Spencer," greeted your mom with a wide smile, stepping forward. He shook her hand, and you noted in your mind that his grip was very weak, almost filled with hesitation. Well, he probably felt a bit awkward spending Christmas with strangers.

"That's right, ma'am," he replied, his hand falling back along his side. "I really...really appreciate the invitation."

"Oh, don't be silly, it's nothing. Do you work with JJ?"

"Yes, ma'am. We're on the same team."

His gaze slowly started to sweep the room, finally landing on you. Without moving from your spot, you waved at him. Behind Spencer, JJ crossed her arms and looked at you, turning her head in annoyance. You almost rolled your eyes, but instead, you simply got up with a martyr's expression and offered him your hand. Just as you suspected, his grip was gentle, unsure.

"I'm glad you're here," you said after introducing yourself. His face showed surprise, and you chuckled. "It's you Aunt Martha will bombard with questions. And her unapologetic criticism. Not me.Yay!"

His eyes widened in horror. They were dark and honest, one of those they call windows to the soul. JJ quickly grabbed him by the elbow and led him further inside.

"She was just joking," you managed to hear.

You were not. Aunt Martha and your mom shared one personality trait: meddling in other people's affairs and offering unsolicited opinions. The difference was that mom did it behind people's backs, secretly, so that the person being discussed never heard it, and their perfect image remained intact. Her sister didn’t care about that. And her favorite target for attack was you.

Spencer helped set the table despite the objections. He answered your mom's personal questions with precision and logic, which you found rather amusing. You wondered if he was always like that, or if stress just made him act this way. The only thing you knew about him from JJ was that he was a genius and had a doctorate at such a young age. Or maybe she had said a lot more, but that was the only detail that stuck with you, as a student, terrified at the very thought of a master's thesis.

Queen Elizabeth, or rather Aunt Martha, arrived fashionably late as usual, a good fifteen minutes behind schedule, immediately throwing out comments about the unshoveled driveway and how she almost died because of it. Oh, and also about how her neighbor's son is probably gay because he got an earring. Actually, that last issue seemed to bother her the most.

"I'm telling you, he was such a normal guy," she complained, setting down her bought, or rather freshly baked, pie on the kitchen island. "Used to be, anyway. Now, who knows what's going on in his head. Anyway, it's nice to see you, my darlings. JJ!" She embraced the girl tightly, planting kisses on her cheeks with a loud smacking sound.

You winced at the very sound of it, catching Spencer's eye. Your earlier comment must have scared him, because he was staring at your aunt as if she were holding an axe. She stopped, giving him a penetrating look from head to toe.

"And who’s this handsome young man? Darling sister, did you have a son I forgot about?" She laughed as if she’d told a brilliant joke. She pulled the tense Spencer towards her, kissing him on the cheek. "Of course, I’m just kidding, sweetheart. I heard JJ was bringing someone..."

When it was your turn, you reluctantly submitted to her kisses. At least this time, she didn’t have that awful purple lipstick, so there was no trace of it left on your cheeks.

“Oh my God, you really wore that for Christmas?” she almost wailed, placing her hands on your shoulders. It wasn’t that you were dressed inappropriately, just comfortably, instead of elegantly. Aunt Martha pinched you in the side. “Or maybe you’ve put on a little weight, huh? Trying to hide it? I bet college doesn’t stress you out enough to lose your appetite.”

“Actually, I have a lot of stress,” you admitted, sticking out your lower lip. It probably would’ve been better if you’d just kept quiet, but you couldn’t help yourself. “We’re putting on our first play in a real theater in January. We have rehearsals non-stop…”

“Oh, nonsense,” Aunt Martha dismissed it. “Shall we sit down at the table already? I’m starving…”

You did as she asked. The topic of your studies always came back like a boomerang, in the form of mockery. Your mom, and really no one in your immediate family, supported your choice, but at least they didn’t criticize it openly. They tried to talk you out of it, saying that after a theater degree, you wouldn’t find any work. But… you simply didn’t know what else you could do with your life. You didn’t have a logical mind or a talent for math like your oldest sister, nor the ambition or desire to help others like JJ. You were born a humanist, you liked to read, and even more so, perform all those scenes in front of an audience.

Aunt Martha just couldn’t get over it. And of course, even then, after just fifteen minutes, her eyes landed right on you.

“To be honest, I was hoping you’d drop it after the first semester. But obviously, no one has talked any sense into you yet. I’m telling you, give her a year, and she’ll come to her senses.”

You knew, you had learned that arguing with her was pointless. Soon, she would give up and latch onto someone else...

"Just look at JJ," she continued stubbornly. "She chose a respectable field, has a respectable job. Sure, her work might be a bit macabre for a woman, but at least she helps others. She’s doing something useful for others, for the world. And you?"

"Auntie," JJ gently scolded her, casting an apologetic glance your way.

From the corner of your eye, you noticed Spencer setting down his fork, clasping his hands on his lap in a visibly uncertain, lost gesture. You could have gotten up, pushed your chair back with force. You could have done that, you could have even spilled your wine on your aunt's dress—your dramatic flair was enough to pull it off. And though your hands clenched into fists under the table, your knuckles turning white, you said nothing. It wasn’t worth causing a scene.

Instead, you were waiting for the end of dinner like salvation. And when it finally came, you disappeared into the garage, rubbing your chest, trying to loosen the strange tightness. The place had been empty ever since your father moved out and took his car with him. Without hesitation, you reached into your pants pocket and pulled out a pack with the remaining four cigarettes and a lighter. You felt a bit embarrassed by the fact that you were an adult, yet still hiding your smoking. Neither your mom nor JJ would approve of it. Neither would Aunt Martha.

But you needed it to calm your trembling hands after dinner.

You had barely lit the cigarette and taken a drag when someone entered through the door from the house. You quickly hid the cigarette behind your back. Jesus, you were really acting pathetic.

"Hey, it's me," Spencer said, quietly closing the door behind him.

The garage was dimly lit, and you couldn’t fully see his face. But he must have noticed the puff of smoke escaping from behind your back. You shifted uneasily from one foot to the other, uncertain of how to act. Did it concern him enough that he would tell JJ?

“You scared me,” you admitted, deciding to finally relax. You held out the pack toward him. “Did you come here to smoke too? Want one?”

“No…” he denied, clearing his throat. “I don’t smoke. I came… I came to check on you.”

“Check on me?” Surprised, you nearly choked on the smoke.

Even in the dim light, you noticed his shoulders tense up.

"I... Well... You know... those comments from your aunt were really awful," he finally said. "It was clear they hurt you."

For a moment, you were silent, your ears filled again with everything you heard that day.

"Maybe she had a point," you muttered under your breath, pausing to bring the cigarette to your lips. You tapped off the ash. "I have no idea what I’ll do after these studies. But whatever it is, it won't be as useful as what JJ does. Or you."

"You study theater, right? More important than whether what you're doing is useful is whether it makes you happy. Does it?"

You hesitated before answering, crushing the ash with your shoe.

"I think so."

Spencer was silent for a moment too, and the silence was so thick you could hear his breath.

"Okay, I have no idea how good of an actress you are. But judging by how you kept your cool during that dinner, probably brilliant. You've always wanted to be one?"

His questions took the words from you, filling you with a strange feeling. You realized that no one, none of your closest people, had ever asked you those things. They were too busy criticizing and warning you. Even JJ, though she supported you and you deeply appreciated that, mostly expressed concern rather than genuine interest.

"I can't really answer that," you said, the end of your cigarette now the only thing left in your hand. "I guess no one really knows who they are meant to be. And if someone does, I envy them. What about you?" you asked, "Did you always want to be a serial killer hunter?"

"A profiler, you mean?" he replied.

"Call it what you want."

He shook his head with a small chuckle.

"That's a tough question, I have to admit."

“See, that's too existential. Don’t you have any other questions?”

 “Hmm, I think I can come up with some,” he mused for a moment. “You mentioned you’re putting on a play in January. What’s it about?”

You told him about the preparations for Antigone, your role as Ismene. It turned out that he knew the play very well. No, he really knew it—not just fragments of information from high school lessons. Engrossed in your discussion, neither of you noticed how much time had passed or how long you’d been gone. It’s possible others were wondering where you’d disappeared to, but at that moment, you couldn’t care less. For the first time, you were talking to someone outside your university who actually knew so much about theatre. You couldn’t stop talking, your words tumbling out so fast that your cheeks turned red from lack of air.

When JJ announced that she’d invited the doctor for Christmas, it never crossed your mind that you'd find such a great conversationalist in him. You had imagined a stiff, grim man in a lab coat. Not a funny, versatile guy like him. He could be a bit awkward at times, but in his case, it was endearing.

Eventually, you returned home, to the living room. Aunt Martha had left early in the evening, and it was just the three of you left, the atmosphere relaxed.

 "Are you okay?" JJ whispered to you at one point, her lips pressed together in concern.

You nodded, genuinely. You'd already managed to push the dinner out of your mind. You were mostly thinking about... Spencer. He stayed late, and you all played cards. Everyone, including your mom. A few times, he caught you cheating, and you noticed a sharp gleam in his dark eyes, but he didn’t say a word. You tried again to draw him into a conversation as long and passionate as the one you’d had in the garage, but the presence of the rest of your family made it difficult.

They joked a lot with JJ, sometimes talking only between themselves about people and things you had no clue about. You’d interrupt then, desperately trying to steer the conversation toward something you could follow. But whenever their gazes met again, their smiles aligning at the same moment, you felt like the annoying younger sister, just a nuisance to them.

 JJ made him show off some card tricks. You wondered if there was anything he couldn’t do, anything he wasn’t knowledgeable about. In your eyes, as the hours passed, he started to become... everything.

That night, you couldn’t sleep. Dressed in your pajamas and robe, you smoked another cigarette in the garage. Though you’d only spent a few hours together, most of them not even alone, in your mind, a certain thought began to form more vividly—one both unsettling and exhilarating.

You had fallen in love.

*

Desperately, you hoped JJ might invite Spencer over for dinner again, giving you another chance to see him. But it didn’t happen. Still, Spencer filled your thoughts every single day, to the point where you couldn’t focus on your classes or the rehearsals.

Rehearsals! Everyone was incredibly stressed about how you’d perform. On a real stage, not just the small one at your university, in front of a real audience. The nerves consumed you so much that you burned through pack after pack of cigarettes, probably smelling like an uncleaned chimney. You were on the verge of asking JJ for his number and inviting him out, openly and without any pretense. Just to stop thinking about him, even for a moment...

You were given two tickets to hand out to your loved ones. One, of course, went to JJ. The other…

“Sorry, sweetheart,” your mom said over the phone, just a day before the performance. “I’m heading to Aunt Martha’s today and staying the whole weekend. She’s feeling awful, you know her heart issues.”

You didn’t know who else you could invite. Dad always grimaced at the mere mention of the word theater. And then JJ suggested she could ask Spencer if he’d like to come. You stared at her, overwhelmed by the sudden urge to kiss her. Out of gratitude, of course. No, that wasn’t enough. You wanted to fall at her feet and kiss them with tears of joy, thanking her endlessly. In your eyes, she now had angelic wings and a glowing halo around her head. 

Sweet JJ. Best sister in the whole world. 

Of course, you agreed.

But the thought of him watching your performance only intensified your stress. JJ had said she wanted to see you before the show to wish you luck. You suggested meeting both of them by the fountain near the theater—the one where you often smoked before rehearsals, either with your classmates or alone. Already dressed in your costume, you walked to the meeting spot on shaky legs. It was all about to begin. Too soon.

You lit a cigarette without giving a second thought to the fact that your sister was about to show up. Even when you heard footsteps behind you as you sat on the bench facing the fountain, you didn’t put it out. But to your surprise, when you turned around, it wasn’t JJ—it was Spencer.

“Nerves getting to you?” he asked as a greeting.

Your stomach leapt into your throat, and something inside you fluttered. You hadn’t seen him in three weeks, not long enough for him to have changed in any way. Yet, it felt like you were seeing him for the first time in years, and your joy at the sight of him was nearly overwhelming.

You swallowed, trying your best to seem casual.

“Doesn’t it show?” You raised the hand holding the cigarette, your fingers trembling visibly.

"Isn't it cold?" he asked, stepping closer and stopping by the bench. You moved over, making space for him. You were, indeed, freezing. You'd come outside in your stage costume, without any jacket or coat. Spencer looked you over carefully. "You know, I have some doubts about whether you could actually get Martens and silk dresses in ancient Thebes."

"Of course, you could. Martens, the Greek god of footwear. Haven't you heard of him?"

With amusement, he raised an eyebrow.

"This is a modern interpretation of Antigone," you explained finally, pointing again at your outfit. "Here, she's a feminist, a force of resistance against Creon's patriarchal power. These shoes paired with the delicate dress are a subtle expression of Ismene's rebellion. What do you think? Don't you like the idea? You seem surprised. Did you think it was going to be a traditional version of the play?"

"Oh, well, that's exactly what I thought," he admitted, blinking twice, lost in thought. "But I'm not disappointed or anything," he added hastily. "Actually, I'm... even more curious to see this play. Your interpretation."

After these words, he shifted uncertainly in his place, still staring at you. Finally, he sighed and began to remove his brown coat.

"Take it, okay? You're shaking, and... it's just unpleasant to watch," he said.

"No, stop," you tried to stop him, though deep down you couldn't wait for his coat to fall over your bare shoulders. "It's just for a moment, I'll go back inside soon..."

"...And you'd better not go on stage all gray and stiff from the cold. Really, you can... you can take it."

You pretended to give in. You handed him your cigarette to hold while you slipped your arms into both sleeves. At the same time, you tried not to show too much impatience. A pleasant warmth spread across your back, the protective layer, as well as the scent of his cologne.

"Thank you," you said quietly, unable to stop a small smile from forming. A similar one appeared on his face as well. You both sat in silence for a moment, not sure what else to say, as so much time had passed since your last conversation. You didn’t want to bring up your sister, but... her delay started to worry you.

"Where... where is JJ, actually? We were supposed to meet here," you asked.

"Oh," Spencer sighed, as if he had just remembered something. "Right... sorry, she asked me to let you know that she won’t be able to make it on time. She’ll get to the performance, but she'll be a little late. She had to stay at work a bit longer."

You nodded with disappointment, though deep down, you couldn’t help but feel a little pleased with how things had turned out. You could meet your sister anytime, but with Spencer? You needed a good excuse.

"You know... I'm really glad you came.”

He shrugged dismissively, avoiding your gaze when you tried to look him in the eyes.

"Don’t mention it... really. I’m the one who’s glad you agreed when JJ decided to invite me," he said.

You fell silent after his words, something dawning on you. While you would be performing on stage, the two of them would be sitting right next to each other, together. Before the show started, they’d probably talk again about all those things and people you didn’t know, from outside your world. And you wouldn’t be around to analyze every little smile, to discover what might lie behind them. Friendship, or something more? Though before, during the holidays, when you hadn’t met him yet, you had often joked that something might be between him and JJ, it was only then that it really hit you.

You pressed the cigarette to your lips, not realizing it had already gone out.

If it came down to it, who were you to compete with JJ? You loved her, but you were also painfully aware that she was everything you could never be. The perfect daughter, the pride of the family.

"I have to go," you said, your voice sounding strange, as if it came from somewhere outside of your body.

You tried to take off his coat, but he stopped you with a gesture of his hand.

"You can give it to me after the show. Honestly, I deeply hate that saying, because of how utterly meaningless it is... though maybe I just understand it too literally... anyway, break a leg."

Despite your earlier gloomy thoughts and conclusions, you let out a laugh.

JJ arrived as promised, during the performance. You were too focused on your role to notice her entrance, and of course, it was dark in the theater. The way she hugged you afterward made you feel guilty for all the things you'd thought about her that day. All the hidden jealousy, not just about Spencer, but about everything.

She suggested a dinner afterward, and the three of you spent a pleasant evening together. Not once that night did you suspect it would become a tradition. That this pair would start attending all your performances, becoming faces you could look for in the crowd. Your friends had their parents there to cheer them on, you had them. 

Around that time, your relationship started to get really strange.

As time passed, the awareness that you were in love with Spencer became a fact coded into your soul. Undeniable and constant. Always present. At the same time, you didn’t see each other alone too often. Your mom liked him enough to invite him to the family home frequently, which he accepted. A few times you went to the movies with him and JJ, once you dragged them both to an art exhibition because you were afraid that if you invited him alone, he might refuse.

He quickly became a family friend, including of course, yours. But you and he, alone, saw each other... incredibly rarely. The only moments were those before the performances. You’d wait for them by the bench near the fountain, and he would always arrive before JJ. You’d spend about fifteen minutes talking, just the two of you. In your eyes, those fifteen minutes held an indescribable, sacred weight. If you could, you would’ve built an altar for each of those minutes and laid before it every morning, on your knees, for an hour. It was starting to sound a bit obsessive, wasn’t it?

But over time, it became insufficient. Not knowing how else to fill the emptiness that his absence left in you, you started sending him messages—simple good mornings and good nights. Sometimes you'd ask how his day had gone. Once, by accident, you called him. He picked up, and you ended up chatting. You started doing it regularly. Beautiful moments, where two separate spaces were filled only by your voices, without JJ's presence.

These conversations were like therapy for you after every meeting with the two of them. Because during them...

It dawned on you how close they were. The two of them. They were connected by their work, their passion, their interests. And you had no fucking clue why that damn Ted Bundy killed people, or what the hell the reason behind it was, other than the fact that he was a psychopath. What was the actual difference between a psychopath and a sociopath? Murder and manslaughter—what was the difference there?

Of course, it wasn't that they only talked about that. In fact, they rarely touched on their work in front of you, but still, it bothered you to such an extent that over time, your apartment started to fill with criminology books, which you shoved under the bed when your sister came over. You didn’t know what you were trying to achieve—drawing his attention?

But there was one thing that drove you into true psychological devastation. The smiles Spencer gave JJ. Sometimes she’d say something, joke, tell a story, and he’d listen to her with that exact expression on his face. A discreet tenderness and... and... you couldn't keep describing it any longer. You felt like jumping out of the window just at the thought of it. Because you were sure he never looked at you that way. No matter how hard you tried to impress him, how many card tricks you learned, how many books on psychopaths you read.

He still saw you only as his little sister.

But you... you still tried. Because even though sometimes you felt like it was all pointless, most of the time you were filled with that hopeless hope. He became close to you, not just in a romantic sense. You saw in him a support you couldn’t find in your family. He was the one you could turn to with problems you faced at college; he didn’t roll his eyes or dismiss your issues, but listened with genuine concern. He made you feel like your career path might actually have some meaning.

That's why you called him that day.

There was this one particular day of the year. Especially painful. The anniversary of the day your sister took her own life. At some point, you didn't even know when, you and JJ had made an unspoken decision to spend that day apart. She took it particularly hard, claiming she needed isolation. You, on the other hand... wandered around your apartment like a ghost, unable to focus on anything, searching for some kind of embrace that could ease the pain.

“Hey,” he answered on the other end of the line, always sounding a little surprised when greeting you, as if he hadn't expected you to call. “What’s... what’s going on?”

“Spencer,” you only whispered his name, glued to the couch in your apartment, unable to move for the past hour. Saying his name alone helped a little. Spencer, Spencer, Spencer. “Sorry for calling... but…”

“But?” he asked, his tone concerned. “Is something... something wrong?”

You nodded, forgetting he couldn’t see it. It was funny, though, because it felt like you could see him. At least a vivid image of him in his apartment, a place you’d never been, but somehow, you knew how it looked. In his post-work clothes, with the longer strands of hair tucked behind one ear on one side. Those brown eyes.

“Could you come? To… to mine?”

You heard him swallow nervously.

"Sure. But... never mind, I'll be there soon. Just... wait."

He arrived, just as promised.

 You hugged him for the first time since you had known each other. You initiated it, sinking into his arms, burying your face in his chest and breathing deeply. You had imagined this moment countless times... and it didn’t meet your expectations. You probably hoped he would embrace you with some hidden strength, almost crushing you and kissing the top of your head. Instead, his hug was surprised and withdrawn.

You stepped back a step, and for a moment, you both stared at each other in silence. You weren’t really sure what to say.

"Today... today is the anniversary of her death," you finally blurted out.

Actually... you weren't even sure if he knew about it. Spencer straightened up with understanding. So JJ must have told him.

 "Oh... now I get it," he said slowly. He rubbed his forehead, still caught in some confusion, disorientation. Well, you had to admit, you had put him in a somewhat awkward position.

"That explains... that explains why JJ was acting like this today," he murmured under his breath. You gave him a questioning look. "She was very quiet. Closed off."

 "That's how she handles grief," you explained, tightening your cardigan around yourself. "She isolates herself and doesn’t want to see anyone. Not even me or Mom."

Spencer fell silent for a moment, his expression distant and blank. It hurt, and you wished he would be present, right there, next to you. That’s why you called him. Not for him to drift back to thoughts of her. It pained you, your own selfishness. Your own cruelty.

"Don’t you think we should... at least check on her?" he suggested uncertainly.

You quickly shook your head in disagreement.

 "As I said, she doesn’t want to see anyone. I think we should... we should let her have her solitude."

"Alright. You're her sister, you... I believe you know what's best for her," his tone sounded as if he was trying to convince himself that his words were true. He sighed again. "But I'm glad you decided to call me. How... how can I help you?"

You weren’t saying this out of jealousy, you honestly believed it was the best thing for your sister. For a moment, silence fell between you again. He didn’t seem convinced, but he finally sighed.

You moved your lips, wanting to say I don't know but no words came out.

 "Just," you began, swallowing. "Be with me."

He hugged you... and that hug was closer to how you had imagined it once. Much closer. Most of all, it didn't just sink into your body like a toy; he actively tried to make it clear that he was there, that he was with you, and you could rely on him. And you had no reason not to believe it.

You spent the whole evening together. Watching TV wasn’t the most ambitious pastime, but it was just a less depressing excuse to sit in silence on the couch. Lying, actually. You rested your pillow on his lap, placed your heads together. The faces on the screen blurred, you didn’t hear any sounds, you only felt his hand gently, occasionally brushing your back. He did it at irregular intervals, as if afraid you would catch him in the act. It was a short, fleeting motion, and you wondered afterward if you had imagined it.

You walked him to the door when it was time for him to leave. You said goodbye, but didn’t close the door to the apartment, standing still in it.

“Spencer,” you said, when he started walking down the stairs. Before he turned, he flinched. The air in your lungs had been gathering into one big, terribly heavy ball for some time, and you could barely release it. “You’re going to check on her, right?”

He opened his mouth, but said nothing. Finally, he lowered his head, and when he looked back at you, there was so much determination, so much sense of duty in his gaze.

"I..." he began, taking a breath. "I have to do this. Even if she doesn't want to see anyone. I wouldn't forgive myself if I found out later that I wasn’t there when she needed someone."

You understood it. You loved him for it. You were grateful. At the same time, you hated him, though it wasn't hate aimed at him. Nor at JJ.

It was hate aimed solely at yourself.

You allowed your desire to have him all to yourself to overshadow your sister.

*

The last play you performed during your first year of college was The Sorrows of Young Werther.

It was a huge event, a lot of work, rehearsals, and stress. Your contact with both Spencer and JJ suffered because you simply didn’t have the time. All of it… took a toll on your mental state. You were someone who threw herself deeply into the roles you played. You imagined the words spoken on stage as if they came from your own mouth, reflecting your true thoughts and desires. And even though you didn’t play the lead role, the suffering Werther, you began to live the play.

If woken up in the middle of the night with a slap to the face, you would’ve been able to recite the entire script, having read it so many times. You wrote on it with a pencil, highlighted passages, as if it were your personal Bible. At the same time, it filled you with a sense of patheticness. Was there anything you could do to avoid the fate of Werther?

It was evening, and you hadn’t left your apartment that day. You couldn’t even remember if you had gotten out of bed at all. Eventually, unable to look at the crossed-out script anymore, you shoved it under the bed. You had accumulated a lot of things there. You picked up a deck of cards.

You remembered that Christmas, the one where everything began. The Christmas tree and the three of you sitting on the carpet. Spencer, showing some odd trick, and you and JJ, trying to guess how he did it. You reveled in the memory of the early stage of your infatuation.

The phone rang.

"Can you come over?" JJ's voice came through without any greeting. Normally, you would have joked, asked how about a hello? “But she sounded too serious, frighteningly serious. You swallowed. "Please."

You started getting dressed before you even agreed. Because of course, you did. You knew it wasn’t about something trivial, something insignificant. That didn’t fit with JJ. Something real must have happened…

In moments like these, your complicated relationship with your sister was simplified. It was broken down into its basic elements, leaving only what was fundamental. The bond. A simple, pure sisterly bond that could be stretched but never broken.

You stepped inside, the door was open. That alone unnerved you. Your heart leaped into your throat as you heard her call you into the bathroom. JJ was sitting on the closed toilet seat, clutching something tightly in her hand.

"God, what happened? You have no idea how scared that phone call made me..."

"Can you look at this?" she interrupted, her usually tanned face was pale, just white, like snow or a blank sheet of paper.

You blinked in confusion and looked at the object she handed you. When you realized what it was, a sound escaped your lips, somewhere between a sigh and a moan.

"Are you... are you... is this...?"

"I have no fucking idea, just check!"

You took the pregnancy test from her, and it slipped from your hands.

You stared at the positive result.

JJ wasn’t trembling, her body unnaturally stiff, her face unreadable. You didn’t know what to say, you had no idea what her stance was. It didn’t seem like it was a planned pregnancy; she hadn’t even been seeing anyone… Suddenly, a wave of terror gripped your back. What if...?

She could no longer wait for you to deliver the news. You were speechless, unable to say anything. Almost ripping the test from your hand, her mouth opened in shock.

You slowly approached to touch her shoulder. That gentle touch quickly turned into an embrace.

"JJ," you whispered into her neck, still terrified of what you might hear. But you pushed all the theories aside for once, focusing only on her. "What... what are you going to do now?"

Your sister held onto the hug, but when she pulled away, her eyes were filled with tears. Happy tears.

"I’m going to be a mom."

There it was—the happy news. God, you felt like you were about to start crying too. The only thing stopping you was...

"But what about... what about... who..." The question was shockingly hard to phrase. Each version of it sounded brutal in its own way. "Who’s the father?"

“His name is Will. We’ve been together for a while… I haven’t told anyone, we haven’t seen each other much lately and…”

You sank back into her arms, happy, truly happy. For a moment, a thought crossed your mind—that it could have been someone else’s child. You didn’t know what you would’ve done if that had turned out to be true. You stayed with her for several hours, both of you behaving as though you’d lost your minds. You took turns crying—when one of you stopped, the other started.

"But... you're the first person I've told," she said when you were about to leave. "And I want you to keep this just between us for now, okay? Don’t tell Mom, and not even Spencer."

"Of course, JJ, I wouldn't..."

You were a terrible sister. As soon as you left the apartment, you quickened your pace, determined to break the promise you had made. And you had nothing to defend yourself with, except for that surreal vision that had formed in your mind. You thought… that if Spencer found out…everything he felt for JJ would have to fade away. That was the way things went: your love interest moves on with someone else, you suffer for a while, and then you move on. Or not, but in fewer cases.

In any case, you fooled yourself into thinking that once he knew, he would turn in another direction. Toward you. The one who had loved him from the first sight. Well, more precisely, from the first conversation in the garage. You dialed his number, walking through the dark city, which suddenly seemed so small. So insignificant. All those people around, who were they? You felt like a madwoman, almost running without knowing where. Or maybe you did know. Or rather, your legs knew.

The fountain and the bench right next to it, where you spent time before every one of your plays. Just the two of you. All those conversations swirled in your ears so vividly that you didn’t even hear Spencer speak on the other end.

"We need to meet," you announced, cutting off whatever he had been about to say. "Please, it’s important. I need to tell you something. At our bench, okay?"

He was silent, clearly taken aback.

"You mean... like, now?" he asked, followed by a confused sigh. "I’m not in town right now… I’m visiting my mom," he explained, swallowing hard. You’d never met her, but you knew it was a sensitive subject for him.

You came to a stop, your chest heaving as you caught sight of the fountain in the distance—the destination of your hurried march. "I really can’t today," he added.

"Tomorrow then," you decided, undeterred.

"Can you at least tell me what’s going on? Don’t take this the wrong way, but… you sound really off. I think… I think I’m starting to worry…"

"Don’t worry. It’s nothing urgent. It can wait. I just need to tell you something, and it has to be face-to-face."

On the other end, he cleared his throat, still clearly off-balance, but eventually agreed. Just before you hung up, you drew in a deep breath and blurted out more words, almost without thinking.

"It’s something I’ve wanted to tell you for a long time. I want to…" you paused, a strange laugh escaping your lips. "Confess. It’s about… my feelings."

Spencer remained silent. He didn’t hang up, just stayed quiet. You couldn’t even hear his breathing, as if he’d moved the phone away from his ear, away from his mouth. You hesitated, suddenly hit by a thought. What if you… scared him? You pulled the phone away from your own ear for a moment as well, trying to calm your breathing, which had turned uneven, almost like a sob.

“So, tomorrow?” you asked to confirm.

The silence stretched on, and you nervously started biting your nail.

“Tomorrow’s gonna rain,” he said suddenly, his voice so soft you almost missed it. You frowned in confusion, letting out a questioning hum. “Tomorrow’s gonna rain. Let’s just meet at my place instead.”

It seemed logical, but somehow you were stuck on the vision of the two of you in that specific place. That bench, where he gave you his coat when you were freezing in your Ismene costume.

“No, please. I want it to be there. The rain… the rain doesn’t bother me,” you insisted.

“Okay,” he said with a hint of resignation, sounding a bit like he was giving in. “Okay, okay. Tomorrow. Fine.”

You slipped your phone into your pocket, a faint smile tugging at your lips.

Even though you had nothing to do in this part of town, you could’ve just headed back home. Yet, you paused for a moment in front of the fountain. That’s when you realized you’d left your cigarettes at JJ’s apartment. Oddly, you didn’t care. Only one thing, one thought felt important right now.

Tomorrow. Sweet, long-awaited tomorrow.

The fountain. The water flowing through it. The water that never stopped. Just like your love—constant, despite never being returned.

You sat down on the bench, a single tear slipping from your eye. Somehow... deep down, you already knew that tomorrow wouldn’t come. Not the tomorrow you’d imagined. Not the one that would stay true to your hopes, your dreams, and your visions.

In that moment, you felt connected to another version of yourself—one sitting on this very bench, despite the pouring rain and the relentless passing of hours.

Tomorrow. The tomorrow that never came.

taglist:

@she-wont-miss @mggslover @kakamixoxo @nyeddleblog @dylanobrienswife0420 @wmoony

@heddgie @khxna @marauder-exe-old @yujyujj @charleyreid @aristeia29 @kitty-kai @sp3ncelle

[luvyeni]

⠀ ( drabble ) they don't know ̨ ! ୨୧ 一 大崎将太郎 ՞

⸃ ⸰ ⌁ your friends don't know about you two ヾ

fwb!shotaro・ reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ g ・ smut ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ cw ・ ‎ unprotected sex , ‎ ‎doggystyle wc ・ ‎0.6k ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎| ‎ ‎click to library

request. Hiii! Could you create a friends with benefits smut including taro from RIIZE? Something like you guys are in the same friends group or have mutual friends?

「 ୨୧ authors note 」 enjoy it , hope you like it <3

“you know shotaro right?” you friend introduced the boy in front of you. “he's in one of my classes , yeah i know him.” you smiled , the boy in front of you , smiling back — it wasn't a friendly smile , but a smile; unbeknownst to your friend that you knew too well. “it's nice to meet you.”

there was a knock on your door, getting off your couch to answer it. opening the door the to the boy smirking. “don't look at me like that.” you allowed him in; he took his shoes off following you inside. “he's in my class.” he mocked you, you rolled your eyes. “shut up.” he laughed , coming up behind you. “what you embarrassed of me?” his voice was deeper than before. “didn't want her to know im fucking you into your mattress at your beck and call.”

knowing your apartment like the back of his hand , he guided you to your bedroom. “at my beck and call?” he pushed you down on to your bed. “you called me tonight remember?” he was already ridding himself of his clothes. “that's because you looked good tonight , even though you ignored me.” he took in what you were wearing now , the lack of clothes making him bite his lip with a smirk. “i like this look , easy access baby.”

he didn't even give you a chance to say anything, before grabbing your face, slamming his lips into yours. “been thinking about fucking you since earlier.”

he wasted no time, almost ripping your panties off , climbing on top of you. “tiny fucking skirt, desperate for my attention huh?” he toyed with your clit. “fuck you're so wet.” he groaned. “taro, fucking hurry.” you moaned out. “so needy , don't worry not gonna make you wait.”

teasing your hole, slipping his cock inside you, both of you letting out a moan. “fuck you're so tight.” he sighed , pulling out stopping at the tip of cock. “gonna ruin your pussy.”

he slammed inside you; holding your waist as he plowed into you , pulling your bra down to release your boobs. “shit so fucking sexy.” he groaned. “pussy is so-so fucking addicting.” his eyes rolled to the back of his head , your cunt sucked him in , gripping him like a vice. “best pussy i've ever fucked.”

he quickly slipped out of you; whining at the sudden emptiness. “up.” he maneuvered your body, pushing your body into an arch before slipping back inside. “oh fuck , yeah keep it arched liked that. “yo-you talk too much.” you moaned. “just fuck me.” he laughed darkly. “whatever you want.” he gripped your ass , pounding into you. “yes fuck!” you screamed. “fuck me!”

the headboard slamming into the wall as he fucked you. “this is what you wanted right? ignored me all night now begging for my dick.” he growled. “fuck , fuck you feel too good.” the knot in your stomach twisting tighter and tighter. “fu-fuck taro.” you moaned out loudly not caring about facing your neighbors in the morning. “fuck im gonna cum.”

you soon came , eyes rolling to the back of your head as you came. “oh fuck you're choking my cock.” he gasped , pulling out of your spent hole. “fuck.” he tugged at his cock , shooting his load on to your back. “shit.” he groaned.

“lay on your back.” he said , flipping you back over. “im not done with you.” he slipped back inside of you. “shit taro.” your legs shook in overstimulation. “too much.” he smirked. “you can take it.” he slowly began to move again. “sh-shit.”

“your friends might not know im fucking you , but your neighbors sure will.”

©LUVYENI

[venusvixen20]

So random thought.

The Diasomia boys are well boys, and until you join them, they never really knocked before entering someone else bedroom.

Being at the school they started the habit but once back home they quickly forget this.

Malluesxyou, Liliaxyou, Silverxyou, Sebekxyou

Had anyone in this castle/ cottage hear of knocking?!

You joined the Diasomia group for summer vacation and stay at the castle/ cottage.

Despite the cottage's small size you're given a room of own our but it doesn't matter because you don't sleep there most nights.

Had anyone in this castle/ cottage hear of knocking?!

You joined the Diasomia group for summer vacation and stay at the castle/ cottage.

Despite the cottage's small size you're given a room of own our but it doesn't matter because you don't sleep there most nights.

Lilia:

Lilia and you try to sneak around the best you can. Trying not to disturbed Silver and you manage, until one morning.

Lilia and you were up up all night and still up. You normally went back to your room but you could hear Silver up and moving around.

"Sh, we need to be quiet." You whispered to Lilia, who just nodded.

Silver was use to you two sleeping in that was normal but you had talked about going to the lake today and wanted to go early. He opened your door to see the room empty.

He quickly went to his Father's door and flung it open. "Father!" Silver began but stopped when he saw the two in a rather compromising position. Luckily your back was turned towards him.

"Silver!" Lilia exclaimed as he pulled the blanket up to cover you up.

"S-Sorry!" Silver exclaimed as he shut the door.

"Knocking! Please learn to knock!" You called after him with a giggle but red faced.

"Good to know I can still traumatized him even in my old age." Lilia chuckled as he received a gentle smack around the chest.

"Lilia!" You gasped just making him laugh more.

Silver:

Lilia knows what you two are up to at night but he seems no harm in it as long as you're being safe.

He can hear you sneaking around at night, going back and forth between the rooms but he always assumed it was at night.

He had gone to the market for his weekly trip. He placed the groceries on the kitchen table. He listened and heard nothing.

"Are they napping again?" He wondered to himself as he made his way to Silver's door. He opened it to see you two laying on his bed naked and asleep but the banging of the door had woken you both up.

"Father!" Silver exclaimed as you did.

"Lilia!" As you both tried to cover up.

You were both red faced as the blanket was brought up to your chin.

"Oops, sorry I should have knocked." Lilia chuckled as he closed the door.

Mallues:

Of course you had your own room, as was proper.

Your room was close to his but it didn't matter where your room was in the castle Mallues came to your room every night.

Some times you even went to his room. That's what you did last night.

Normally you both up early so no one catches you but you were got carried away.

So you were getting out of bed and throwing on your robe when the door was thrown open by Sebek.

"My Lord, your late,...." He began when he was you in your robe and Mallues in just his pajamas bottoms. "My lord, forgive me!" He exclaimed as he blushed and quickly exited the room.

"Knocking Sebek, you need to knock." Mallues called after him.

"Yes my lord!" He called from behind the door making you laugh.

"Poor Sebek. Go easy on him. At least I was in my robe." You chuckled as you go up and hug Mallues.

"Thankfully." Mallues said as he leaned down and kissed you.

Sebek:

Dating a knight wasn't easy but Mallues tried to make it easier by allowing our room close to Sebek's. Right next door.

It made it so easy to spend time together, when Sebek had time. So most of your time spent together at night.

Despite your best efforts you still fell asleep in his room often.

You often woke up to him getting ready for his shift. Every once and awhile you managed to wake up before him and got to wake him up.

Today he had the late shift so you decided to take your time waking him up.

Or so you thought.

Sebek only had his pants on and you were only in your underwear and bra when the door was opened.

"Sebek, you're late." Silver called out as he entered the room and everyone froze. "Oh, sorry!" Silver muttered as he blushed and quickly left the room.

"Knocking Silver!" Sebek shouted after him just as red faced.

*******************************************************

I hope you enjoyed this short. I wrote this quickly while I still had an idea in my head.

I was watching a show and there was a scene similar to the first one and it gave me this idea.

I hope you liked it.

[thezombieprostitute]

The Arrangement - Part 5

Summary: Jake's done a lot of things to keep his sister, and then his niece, safe from his parent's influence and manipulation. If he wants to keep them safe, he has to marry you.

Warnings: Bad parents, Implied physical abuse. Let me know if I missed any!

Chapter 4 -- Chapter 6

Series Masterlist

You're in the hallway when you hear Clay say his goodbyes to Jake with a promise to visit. It's now just the two of you, the part of the night you've been dreading. You step out to where Jake can see you, keeping your head down.

Jake takes several tries to start talking. Seeing you like this, he gets what Clay saw. It's a splash of cold water on the rage he had initially felt during your "wedding". Where he thought he had seen disappointment and coldness he now sees timidity and fear. Jake has been perceived as many things, annoying, intelligent, dorky, but never scary. He definitely doesn't like that you're scared of him.

"I, uh, I guess we should choose our rooms?" he finally says, making your brows knit in confusion. "I...I know we're..." he gestures at the two of you. "But you...I...we don't have to do anything you don't want." Your eyes widen in surprise and he's quick to add, "it's not because I don't want to, you're beautiful, and I'm sure you're great in bed, and I shouldn't have said that, and I'm sorry, but I'm just so nervous, but I think we'd both sleep better in separate rooms? If that's what you want? Or we can share a bed, if you want, I promise no touching that you don't explicit consent to, and I'm going to stop talking before I make myself look even more awkward than I feel."

He's rubbing the back of his head, cheeks pink, eyes down, clearly uncomfortable. He almost looks more like a teenage boy trying to ask out a pretty girl as opposed to the angry, hateful monster you were certain you'd married. You want to chuckle but the suddenness of the transformation leaves you even more on edge. Is his offer of separate rooms genuine or a trick? You want, so desperately to believe him, but can you?

Remembering the layout of the penthouse, however, gives you an out. "There's only one bed," you inform him. "The other rooms have couches or chairs, but no beds."

"Seriously?" Jake asks. "Why would they do that?"

"My...my guess is that they want to...ensure...that, that we..." you imitate his earlier gesture indicating the both of you and his eyes widen in realization.

"Well, damn," he mumbles. "I'll go ahead and sleep on the couch then, okay?"

"Are you sure? They look like they're meant for looks more than comfort."

Jake gives a soft huff, "I spent enough time in the military that I can sleep anywhere, I promise."

"You're in the military?"

"Formerly," Jake replies. "It's how I met Clay. And it's a very long story that can wait for some other time."

"It's impressive," you admit. Most of the men in your life were the type to act tough but would never actually go through with something as harsh as military training.

Jake blushes again, "well, it's no Masters Degree in ecology. That's a lot of hitting the books! Never was my forte, preferred hands on learning, which is why I never did well at school and I'm rambling again. Sorry about that."

You feel the heat rush to your face. No one's ever acknowledged your degree outside of claiming it was a waste of time and money. You really hope his compliments are sincere, but are still careful to not take them fully to heart. It could easily be another manipulation tactic.

"Thank you," you tell him. "I'll be happy to split the bedding and make sure the guest bathroom has toiletries."

"You don't need to do that," he shakes his head. "I've made do with a lot less and, most importantly, you're not the maid. You don't have to take care of me like that." You open your mouth but kind find the words to respond. He continues, "oh, did you want me to cook breakfast in the morning? I doubt it'll be as good as you cook, that pasta was awesome, but I can do some cooking and you shouldn't have to cook everything, especially not for someone who can cook for themselves, but I also don't want to intrude because you know where everything is and if you prefer to have the kitchen to yourself I completely understand, I just wanna help you out because we're in this together and..." Jake's face scrunches up in a wince, "and I'm rambling again. I'm so sorry."

"Whoever wakes up first makes breakfast?" you propose.

"I like it," he nods.

You go to get some blankets and pillows for him and he waits outside the door to the bedroom. When you give him a quizzical look he replies, "it's your room. I'm not entering without permission." Giving him a contemplative nod, you thank him before handing him everything.

"Goodnight," he tells you. "I hope you sleep well."

"You too," you tell him as diplomatically as you can.

He heads to one of the other rooms and you close the door to the master bedroom suite, your bedroom. As tiring as the day has been, you're not sure you're getting sleep any time soon. Your husband has given you much to think about.

Chapter 4 -- Chapter 6

Series Masterlist

Tagging: @alicedopey; @ashdoctor; @delicatebarness; @ellethespaceunicorn;

@icefrozendeadlyqueen; @lokislady82; @ronearoundblindly

[parfaitblogs]

scared of my guitar ❀ s. reid x reader

in which you fall out of love, and he notices. 

pairing: spencer reid x reader genre: angst tags: established relationship. they suck at communicating. whole lot of nothing again why can't i write guys. no happy ending.  word count: 1.2k a/n: this is for the girls who are the problem in their relationships!! i see u!! i hear u!!! thank u olivia rodrigo for representing us.

also posted here on my ao3 !

You were perhaps the most awful and cruel person in the world.

Those were the self-deprecating thoughts you had every single night, morning, and every hour in between. Thoughts you have been having for a month now, and thoughts you were praying would go away. Because the longer you have them, the more solidified they become in your brain, and the closer you get to knowing you need to address them. With him.

The man currently in your kitchen, making two separate cups of tea, like he did every night he was home. Putting all his love and care into making it the way you like, the way you had taught him. Which, truthfully, didn't take long to teach him — he was a fast learner. Always taking the first sip and telling you if it was still too hot to drink, burning his own mouth and allowing you to scold him for it. A nighttime routine that went on for as long as you could remember. 

But it wasn't enough.

You knew he'd crack you open eventually. He didn't need to be a profiler to read you — he knew more about you than you sometimes thought you knew about yourself. He used to coax you to open up to him about past traumas, never going too far, always pushing just enough to get you to share what you needed to. He was sometimes so in tune with your emotions you wondered if he had crawled into your brain and set up camp the day you two met. 

But no, that was just Spencer. 

The first time he asked if something was wrong was three months ago. He had come home from a particularly long case, and you didn't greet him at the door with the same enthusiasm you usually did. Sure, you were happy, but there was a certain spark behind your eyes missing. But it was two in the morning, and you were technically exhausted, so you were able to blame it on that. He was skeptical, but he knew you, and he knew not to push it. 

The second time he confronted you, you had spent an entire week without spending time with him. You both worked full time, but you also always made time for each other. Whether that be as planned as a Friday night movie, or as simple as picking the other up from work. But you had successfully avoided him outside of simple 'good morning's' and 'good night's'. 

He had sat you down the following Tuesday night, and asked if things between you two were okay. You lied, and said yes, and you watched him become even more suspicious than the time before. He didn't believe you. Again, he didn't push it. 

A small part of you wished he would've. Maybe you could've had the difficult conversation, and it would be over, and you'd be sitting on your couch with a shattered heart over a broken relationship, instead of a shattered heart over one that still exists. 

You knew it was coming when he had sat down with the teas, placing both of them on the coffee table, and you two sitting in an awkward silence for a few moments. 

You lifted your head to glance at him, expecting him to be staring at you, but he wasn't. His eyes, instead, trained on the two coffee mugs, cogs turning in his brain. A sight — watching him think — that used to bring you so much joy, now filling your stomach with an uncomfortable sense of anxiety. 

You opened your mouth to speak, but he cut you off before you could, his gaze unwavering from the mugs. 

"What's wrong?" 

What a layered question, you thought, bitterly. Because what wasn't wrong? 

You wanted to deflect it, tell him nothing, again, say you were fine. But with how serious he seemed, you decided against it. He wouldn't let that pass this time.

"I don't know," you settled on saying, voice shaky, unsure how to actually say what you were feeling. 

He slowly nodded his head, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. "Can you try to know, please?"

He still wasn't looking at you.

You inhaled, eyes fluttering as you attempted to regain your emotions, blinking away the tears filling them already. God, confrontation was hard. 

When you were silent for probably too many minutes, he turned his head to look at you, the sight cracking right down the centre of your heart. 

He wasn't sad looking, per se. Exhausted was probably the better word for it. His eyes devoid of most emotion, his naturally downturned lips frowning further. And that wasn't even the most painful part of it. No, it was the barely audible,

"You don't love me anymore, do you?"

His voice impossibly small, eyes blinking a few times, as if he was doing what you had done and fighting back his own tears. If somebody had shoved a knife in your abdomen fifty times over, twisting it every time, you decided it would hurt less than that.

You couldn't find an answer, your lips parting and closing three or four times as you wracked your brain for something — anything — to say that would take that expression off his face. But anything like that would be a lie, and he would see right through it. You knew that.

So, you settled on a small shake of your head, averting your eyes for your own sake. 

He didn't say anything; simply inhaled sharply and nodded his own head, fingers flexing and stretching against each other in a nervous habit you had noticed what felt like years ago. 

"How long?" he then asked, and you, for the umpteenth time that night, wanted to lie. 

But you didn't. "I had my first doubt four months ago," you said. "But three months ago."

"And you waited four months to tell me?" his voice was impossibly strained. 

You swallowed the lump in your throat. "I didn't know if it was just a fleeting thought because you weren't home or not."

"Right," he answered, hands running down his face, index fingers digging into his eyes. "So then you waited three months after you realised?"

"I didn't know how to bring it up."

You could see the frustration slowly settling in his chest, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

"Spencer—"

"—No," he cut you off, shooting a bullet through your heart as his eyes fluttered shut, and he paused, swallowing back what you figured would be another sob. And you couldn't even blame him. "No, don't—don't justify it. Please. You strung me along for three months?" 

Yes, you did. And you felt awful, staring at him as he drummed his fingers against his thighs; an anxious tic, his eyes settling back on your body. 

"I'm sorry."

It was a pathetic apology, as if it could take back the past three months of interactions he was no doubt overanalysing inside his brain. It couldn't. You knew that, he knew that. 

"Why did you stay?" he finally asked after an eternally long silence between you two.

"I was scared," you whispered. Not intentionally — that's just how small your voice comes out, and it's embarrassing. 

"Of what?"

"Regretting it."

He let out a sigh, nodding his head. He could at least understand that. "I wish you would've told me."

"Me too."

More silence, more anxious heart-beating and more uncomfortable eye contact to each other. 

"I'm sorry," you repeat, breaking the silence. 

He merely nodded his head, eyes searching over your face for a few more seconds, before he stood up, picking up his phone from the coffee table and pocketing it. 

"Yeah," he said, quietly. "So am I."

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly ♡

[braxlrose]

request: bill kaulitz x self-destruct reader hcs😌 I mean, she knows she's hurting herself but she doesn't care? doesn't sleep (and even if she does, she goes to bed very late and then gets up very late, so she's usually restless, tired and barely alive/ barely in touch with reality), barely eats (and even if she eats little , I drink too much energy drinks and takes tranquilizer pills), probably does sh and takes drugs (cigarettes, alcohol and drugs) and it all makes her look practically zombie but she likes this lifestyle?

cw: self harm, alcoholic tendencies, drugs, slight ED, toxic relationship, tons of angst, swearing, NOT PROOFREAD.

bill kaulitz x self-destruct reader

• when you two first met, it was at a party and you guys ended up sleeping together that night. you fell asleep right after so he ended up staying the night at your hotel room.

• when you woke up in the morning, you brushed your teeth and then went over to your drawer to get on new clothes when you felt hands on your hips.

• you turned around to see bill smiling at you. "Sooo, how long do I have to wait before I can ask you out on a date, hmm?" you rolled your eyes and pushed his hands away.

• "Uhmm, never? You don't wanna have to deal with my shit." you said as you pulled your jeans up.

• "Oh come on, everybody has shit."

• "Not like me. So, you should just go." you pulled on your shirt and turned back to him. He was just staring at you, smiling for God-knows-what. you had to admit, he looked amazing. he only had his boxers on, and he looked great shirtless.

• "I'll get you one day, y/n y/l/n." he smiled at you and pulled on his clothes. you rolled your eyes as he kissed you on the forehead and left.

• then you two met again at a music festival and that's when you finally decides to give him a chance after the hours of flirting he spent on you. you weren't scared though, you were sure he'd leave after he saw what you were really like. and you had accepted that.

That was a couple weeks ago. Bill became very aware of the "shit" you were talking about pretty quickly.

• whenever you were at a party with bill you'd always drink too much to the point where you couldn't see straight and your head was pounding like no tomorrow. Bill would take you back to your hotel room and lay you down on your bed and tuck you in. Then he'd sit with you until you finally fell asleep since he knew you'd just stay awake if he didnt.

• one night, you were completely wasted and he had to carry you back to your hotel. again.

"Mmm... Billy I want you soooo bad. pretty pleaaaasee?" you whispered in his ear, giggling and pouting as he unlocked your door and dragged you inside.

"You're drunk. That's not happening, okay?" He said, setting you down on your bed and beginning to wipe your makeup off.

"But Billy..." You'd whine and pout, while he'd just sit there and comb through your hair till you fell fast asleep.

"Goodnight, Schatzi." He'd whisper to you and place a kiss on your forehead.

• you'd also get angry a lot. you were in your hotel room, bawling your eyes out on the bathroom floor. It was 11 PM. your wrists were bleeding a bit from you scratching at them for so long, and your cheeks were bright red from the crying.

• you just wanted to sit there forever and wallow in your own self pity when you heard the door to your hotel open.

"Y/n! You in here?" Bill yelled to you, as you did your best to stand up and wipe your tears away. You gazed at your eyes in the mirror and there were streaks of mascara running down your face. You wiped them off your cheeks and opened the bathroom door to greet him.

"Hey! What're you doing here?" He turned around to see you but you saw his face drop.

"Are you okay? Were you crying in there?" He pointed to the bathroom. You scoffed and rolled your eyes as you closed the door. You pushed the inner part of your arms against yourself so he didn't notice.

"What? God no, I'm just tired. You should probably go." You said as you walked past him and started to change your clothes. He walked over to you and slightly grabbed your chin with his hand. He tilted his head at you and ran his fingers through your hair.

"Come on, just tell me what's wrong." You slapped his hand away and pulled on some shorts.

"I said I'm just fucking tired! Will you back the fuck off?!" You pushed him away and went to grab a new shirt to sleep him. He was bringing up emotions you didn't want to feel. You wiped away a couple tears when you felt his arms wrap around you. He placed some kisses on your shoulders and rubbed his cheek against you.

"I'm here for you, okay? Let me help you.." You could feel anger boiling up inside you. Your eye twitched. He's acting like you needed to be fixed or something. Why would he say shit like this?! You turned yourself around and pushed your hands against his shoulders trying to push his away.

"Can you get the fuck off of me! I don't need your fucking with anything just get the fuck away!" you yelled at him, tears pouring down your cheeks now. You slammed your hand against his shoulder trying to push him away.

"You don't need to push me away, y/n! It's okay!" He wrapped his arms tightly around you as more and more tears came flooding from you.

Your finger nails dug into his shoulders, harder and harder with every word. You could see him wincing in pain but he only hugged you tighter. Why would he want this?

• you hated that he stayed around. you didn't understand why he'd wanna be with someone like you? you set yourself on a path of destruction and ruined everything in your path, why would he take his chances like this?

• you were laying down in your bed when bill came around again. like before, tears were running down your cheeks and mascara was wiped all over your face but you were just laying there. not feeling anything. you had taken a couple different kinds of drugs so you were basically emotionless at this point.

• when bill walked in, he dropped everything and ran to your aid. he sat on the bed and cupped your cheek in his hand to make you look up at him.

• when you turned over at him, he couldn't see anything in your eyes. nothing. all you could remember is how sad you looked.

• he laid down next to you and wrapped his arms around you and kissed your shoulders.

"do you want me to stay?" He asked, brushing your hair off of your face and pulling you closer to his body.

you just nodded and laid down against the pillows as bill whispered sweet nothings in your ear and rubbed your sides with his hands.

• it was about a month into your relationship when bill realized how little you ate.

• at first, he just thought you didn't eat breakfast but over time he noticed you didn't really eat anything unless you were offered something.

• bill also took notice when all you ate was slim jims and energy drinks. Thats when he started bringing you food.

• in the mornings, he'd come in with breakfast and give you a little kiss on the forehead. "Wakey, wakey, baby." He'd say to you and place a bunch of little kisses on your face until you wake up.

"Mmm...what are you doing here?" You said to him groggily, wiping your eyes.

"I brought you breakfast. Come on, geeet up." He'd lift you up by your arms and place the food in front of you, then he'd sit down next to you and wrap his arms around you to make sure you're eating.

"I'm not hungry, Bill." You'd say to him, resting your cheek on his arm.

"Too bad, eat up." He would take your fork and cut into your waffle and place it in front of your mouth until you opened up to eat it.

You eventually would give up and just start eating.

"Why are you doing all of this? I'm just a burden, y'know?" You say to him with your mouth full and your eyes looking up at him all cute and widened.

" 'cause I like you. And I think you're cute." You rolled your eyes and continued eating but bill would have a big, fat smile on his face.

• during the day you'd be like a zombie. your eyes would be dull and half open. Big, dark circles under your eyes and you wouldn't do much. But bill didn't mind. He would lay down with you on the couch and give you massages and kisses on your temples to relax you.

• when bill found out that you hurt yourself, he kissed up and down your body for hours. Whether it was your arms or your thighs, he'd be kissing it. He told you how much he loved you and didn't want you to hurt yourself.

• he didn't want you to feel pressured about talking about your feelings but once you did he would just hold you and listen to you talk, getting everything out. and he would never judge you for anything.

• you told him that you'd stop hurting yourself and you did. for a few days. But that changed once you got away from bill for a little while and you got high at a club.

Bill wanted the best for you but you werent good for him. You knew that, you tried to change yourself for him because you loved him so much. But in the process of being with you, he got hurt too much. You tried to tell him, but he couldn't help but love you. In his eyes, you were perfect.

taglist: @hearts4kaulitz @burntb4bydoll @spelaelamela @bored0writer @fishinaband @billsleftnutt @tokiiohot @bluepoptartwithsprinkles @saumspam @5hyslv7 @killed-kiss @memog1rl @80s-tingz @billybabeskaulitz @victryzvv9 @banshailey

[ashlynlovestlou]

Hey lynnie!! I was wondering if you could maybe right a fic about reader that does sh and relapses and gets comforted by abby??

hi ml!! of course i can, i hope this is okay

cw: self harm , explicit details about cuts , comfort! abby , use of pet names , reader has she/her pronouns

a/n: DO NOT READ IF THIS TRIGGERS YOU. this is an extremely touchy subject, and i sincerely apologize if this is offensive or insensitive. if you need help or someone to talk to, my dms or inbox are always open, and there's a list of helplines tagged below.

masterlist

it was pure mistake. the urges usually weren't that strong, and you usually knew better than to give in to them. but after a rough morning, you felt helpless.

usually it wasn't that bad. they were always surface scratches, fading away quick enough so that nobody noticed them.

and of course abby knew. she noticed them one day while you were at her apartment, doing the dishes after baking with her. it was over the holidays and it was cold outside, so naturally you were wearing long sleeves. while you were doing the dishes she found it odd that you didn't roll your sleeves up. your clothes were turning dark from the dampness of the sink water, and it bothered abby.

"why don't you roll your sleeves up, baby?" she asks with a small chuckle, dropping a dirty mixing bowl into the sink.

you had laughed nervously, "cause it's cold in here."

"aw." she said as she pressed a kiss to your temple. her hands had been dangerously close to your sleeves, "want me to turn the thermostat up?"

but before you could respond, she was rolling your sleeves up for you. everything stopped when she saw the cuts on your arms. breaths were held. hearts didn't beat. eyes didn't blink.

after that she spent an hour talking to you about it, asking you questions while she tended to your wounds. you had never seen your poor girlfriend so upset and so worried about you.

she made you vow never to do it again. which you thought was going to be easy.

until today.

now your arms were so red there was blood dripping down to your elbows. your body shook and shook and shook. like you did it when you weren't thinking clearly, and now it was suddenly hitting you that you went overboard. so overboard, in fact, that the sight made you sick to your stomach.

your skin was red and swollen, and the tips of your fingers were tingling. the fresh cuts had overlapped the old ones, blood tricking all around your wrists and elbowsz

your first instinct wasn't to wash off the blood or bandage it up, but to call abby.

after three rings she answered, "hey, baby. i'm at work, can i call you back on my break?"

just the sound of her voice put tears in your eyes. you knew she was going to be upset.

"i need you." you manage to choke out, your voice breaking as a hiccup escapes your lips.

"whats wrong, sweetheart?" she asks, and you can hear the faint clicking of a keyboard on the other side of the line. she's working on her computer, typing away as she's blissfully unaware what her girlfriend had done to herself.

"i relapsed."

the words make her breath catch in her throat. all of the noises stop, a sharp inhale being heard. abby herself felt like crying, because it hurt to know her love had cut herself again.

"okay... it's okay. don't panic and don't move, alright? i'll be there as fast as i can." she says in one breath before hanging up.

within ten minutes abby was at your front door, fishing out the key you gave her a few months into dating. she let herself in, seeing you on the couch, completely still. you hadn't moved, just like she asked.

she sinks to her knees in front of you, her gaze never once leaving your eyes. you'd grown to appreciate when she would do that, as if your scars weren't the only thing that she sees. but when her gaze finally did fall to your arms, the mere sight made her heart drop to her stomach.

"oh, honey... oh, baby..." she says quietly. she didn't expect it to be this bad. maybe a few surface scratches at best. not one this significantly deep, "why didn't you call me?"

"i-i did."

"i mean when you got the urge." she says, taking your hands into her own and rubbing your palms, "call me before, not after. okay?"

you nod your head, fighting back tears as she takes out a wipe from her work bag, trying to clean up the cuts the best she can.

abby is the most tender human being youve ever met. she's gentle and knows what to do when things like this happen. often times she has to remind herself not to panic to worsen the situation, but seeing you in such a state like this makes her heart shatter in her chest.

once she's all done she cuddled up real close with you, wrapping your arms in a bandage and peppering kisses all over your face. she'll take the next few days off of work to stay with you, afraid it'll happen again if she were to leave you by yourself. once you're calmed down enough, she'll go around your apartment, confiscating anything she thinks you could hurt yourself with. but you didn't mind. even when the urges were there, so was abby.

.

.

.

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[salltybread]

Our Morning Walks

A Connor x GN Reader Oneshot

Summary:

“Can I see you again?” Connor managed to choke out when you were halfway through your door. Your dog slipped into the house, and you unhooked her leash before closing the door behind her and turning around. Connor’s warm brown eyes were darting around, landing everywhere except for you. His friend’s dog, who you learned was named Sumo, slobbered all over his hand which was clutched tightly around the leash. You could have sworn that Connor’s face was turning blue, but it was too dark to tell. 

“I’d like that.”

Notes:

Also posted on:

Wattpad

AO3

Word count:

3,180

Special thanks to my friend for helping me with the development of this!!! <3 you bro!!!

You felt a forceful tug from the leash wrapped around your wrist as your dog dragged you out of the open door. The rough fabric of the leash dug into your wrist as Atlas tugged you down the steps that lead into your house. The crisp morning air of Detroit blew directly into your face the second you exited your house, causing you to shiver. Your hair flew around haphazardly as a chilling gust of wind whisked by.

It was still quite dark outside, but the several inches of snow that fell the night before shimmered beautifully under the moonlight. A dark blue haze lingered over the neighborhood, a stark contrast against the warm yellow street lamps. You were wearing many layers and thick gloves, but you concluded that no amount of clothing could battle the cold that a winter in Detroit brought. The snow crunched loudly under your feet as you trekked along, your thick snow boots protecting your feet from the frigid snow. At least your feet were not that cold. You would probably feel a bit warmer if you had some form of head covering, but your dog, Atlas, chewed up your only beanie earlier that week.

You had only moved to Detroit recently, about a month ago, and you had not adjusted to the colder air yet. You came to Michigan from South Carolina, where it was nearly sweltering most of the time. You arrived in Detroit with only a few coats, hoping you would be alright in the Michigan weather. As soon as you saw the forecast for the week, your jaw practically hit the floor. You ended up having to venture around the city to different stores to get yourself an assortment of clothes suitable for the freezing weather and hefty amounts of snow.

When something unexpected happened, you were forced to move from your apartment in Charleston. Your parents were kind enough to sell you an old house on the outskirts of Detroit at a dirt-cheap price. It was small, but it was better than the very cramped apartment that you used to rent.Your new house had one story with a small living room, an open kitchen, and a bedroom connected to a surprisingly large bathroom. 

The bedroom in your old apartment was not large enough to fit anything more than a twin-sized bed, and it had a broken door connected to a shoddy bathroom. You notified your landlord of the broken door, and he did absolutely nothing about it. You had been lucky enough that the front door worked, so you decided to drop the matter.

Although you had moved into the house almost a month ago, you had not unpacked many of your belongings yet. The only stuff that ended up unsealed was what you used daily or took out of a box and never had the time to put away. Several boxes were scattered around your house since you had yet to unpack them. Some were open, and several remained untouched and sealed with copious amounts of tape. Most containers had half-faded labels made with barely legible Sharpie. You simply did not have enough time to unpack, as you were immediately on the hunt for a job. You found one quickly and immediately began working full-time to refill the hole you put in your wallet several days earlier, when you spent a couple hundred dollars on clothes so you would not freeze to death.

Atlas barked at you, and it shook you from your thoughts. You gazed down at her large, fuzzy face as she stared up at you. Her graying muzzle shoved into your hands, searching for warmth. You did not know what breed she was, since you got her from a shelter that found her as a stray. You got her when she was a year old, and although she was eight years old now, she was still as energetic as ever. Her shaggy tail flopped around in the snow as she sat, caking together onto her long fur. Snow was still falling slowly, and you could see the small flakes landing on her jet-black coat and fading as they melted. She yipped at you again, and you realized you were in the middle of the snow-covered sidewalk, lost in your own head again.

You leaned down and patted Atlas on the head to apologize, feeling her damp fur weave between your fingers. Her ears shifted back as she pressed her head up into your hand. The corners of your mouth lifted when you heard her tail thumping against the pathway. With your arm fully outstretched to pet Atlas, your sleeve shifted back just enough for you to glance down at your watch. It was 4:56 am. You had been standing in that same spot for nearly ten minutes. You were going to be late for the meetup with Connor. Ever since the two of you met, you had walked your dogs together almost every morning. You looked up at the sky, memories of when you first met him flooding into your head.

Your first afternoon in your new house, after you unpacked a bit, you fished around in the cardboard box labeled ‘Atlas’ to find her leash so you could take her out on a walk. It was not in the box, and you spent the rest of the day searching for it. It probably would have just been easier to buy her a new leash. On the third evening of your move-in, you finally found Atlas’ leash in a box filled with miscellaneous items. The box was aptly labeled ‘random shit.’

You originally planned on a short walk around the neighborhood that evening but got lost after about ten minutes of trudging through the snow. Your phone died in your hands when you tried to find directions home. As you wandered mindlessly, the sun began to set, washing the sky in gorgeous hues of orange and deep purple. The old street lamps along the left side of the road flicked on when the sun dipped below the horizon. You trembled as it got colder, your new snow boots rubbing on your heels as you strolled. You exhaled through your mouth, watching as the small cloud of breath vanished into the air.

Atlas spotted a large dog next to somebody on the other side of the street and turned towards them. You felt a soft jerk on your wrist and glanced down at your dog before looking at the other dog and its owner across the street. You took a deep breath, your palms beginning to sweat from under the gloves as you realized what you had to do. You had to speak to a stranger.

“Excuse me!” You called out as you jogged to the other side of the road. The giant dog that walked next to the stranger turned around and pricked his ears toward Atlas as his long tail swished from side to side. When the person turned towards you, the first thing that caught your eye was the LED on his temple that flickered blue. What you noticed next were his large, dark-colored eyes, blown wide in surprise. You could barely discern his other facial features, even with the streetlights on. The lamps were obviously very old, as most of the bulbs were either flickering or did not even work.

“Is something the matter?” The android questioned as his eyes flicked down to Atlas. He smiled at her before looking back up at you. You knew Atlas would not misbehave, but you kept her close to your side in case the other dog got upset.

“Sorry to interrupt your walk,” you trailed off as you thought about how to explain your situation. “I just moved here recently, and I managed to get lost while taking this one on a walk,” you gestured to Atlas. “Do you live in the neighborhood? Do you think you could help me?” You asked the android, a little desperate to get home.

The stranger, who introduced himself as Connor, agreed to help you find your way home. It did not take long for him to find directions after you told him your house number, as androids were technically walking databases. You and Connor engaged in awkward small talk while he led you back to your house. At some point during the walk back, Atlas made friends with the other dog. You were used to Atlas dwarfing other dogs, but she was quite small compared to the mammoth-like Saint Bernard.

“Can I see you again?” Connor managed to choke out when you were halfway through your door. Your dog slipped into the house, and you unhooked her leash before closing the door behind her and turning around. Connor’s warm brown eyes were darting around, landing everywhere except for you. His friend’s dog, who you learned was named Sumo, slobbered all over his hand which was clutched tightly around the leash. You could have sworn that Connor’s face was turning blue, but it was too dark to tell. 

“I’d like that.” You responded, an awkward smile making its way onto your face. Your eyes met Connor’s, and his lips quirked upward. Your breath hitched in your throat at his slight smile. You would be lying if you said you were not blushing, even if it was just a little bit.

“Every morning, before I go to work, I take Sumo on a walk. Would you like to join me tomorrow?” He asked, his head tilting to the side slightly. You had not known him for very long, but you noticed his mannerisms were comparable to a dog’s. It was cute. You found yourself wondering how CyberLife made his facial expressions so intricate. If he did not have the LED, you would not be able to tell that he was an android.

“I’d love to. I’m quite sure that Atlas would love a new friend as well.” You answered, looking down at Sumo. The Saint Bernard was sitting down, his tail thumping against the snow. He looked up at you with an unbelievably cute stare as drool fell ungracefully from his large jowls.

From then on, the two of you went for a walk together every morning. You agreed to his proposal since you did not want to get lost again. However, that was only one of two reasons. The other reason was quite simple. You thought Connor was cute. Soon, the morning walks you went on together became something you always looked forward to. Sometimes, you and Connor would stop to chat on a bench in the park and watch the sunrise. Atlas and Sumo usually sat quietly, but on occasion they would play together to burn off extra energy.

As you reminisced, you picked up the pace so you would not be late to the bench at the park where you and Connor met up every morning. Atlas trotted along happily, leaving large paw prints in the snow. Sporadically, she would stop and sniff a tree root or some odd substance on the sidewalk. You were less inclined to let her investigate the latter. Snow began to smother her thick black fur, leaving a frosty shroud over her coat. You were not worried about her being cold since her pelt provided ample protection from the frigid weather. You lifted your head from the snowy ground and spotted two familiar figures standing by a bench.

As soon as Connor heard your footsteps, he turned around with a smile. Sumo stood beside him, wagging his tail when he caught sight of Atlas. Connor’s features looked gorgeous, bathed in the soft morning light. His short, brunette hair was gently flowing with the wind, more notably the few strands longer than the others that rested on his forehead and curled slightly. His brown eyes were reflecting the blue light, making a beautiful display. The moles and freckles that dotted across his face and his prominent forehead lines, even if they were made to be imperfections, made him look simply breathtaking.

“Are you alright? You have not blinked in 1 minute and 54 seconds. You seem a bit zoned out.” Connor’s concerned voice interrupted your very blatant staring. You immediately looked away, your face turning a bit red. Your heart skipped a beat, and anything you wanted to say got caught in your throat. You felt Connor’s presence as he stepped closer to you, reaching his hand in his pocket to grab something. Connor’s hands reached above you, and you felt something warm on the top of your damp hair; it covered your ears when the android lightly tugged it down.

“Apologies,” he trailed off, searching for what to say next. “I remember you telling me that Atlas chewed up your beanie, so I bought you a new one. I figured it would be better for you to have a head covering sooner rather than later; I noticed your face turning red from the cold.” He explained bashfully, a crooked smile on his face. He promptly realized his hands were still hovering near your head and awkwardly rested them by his sides.

“Thanks, Connor.” You responded softly, tugging the beanie down. You looked up at him, a goofy smile plastered on your face. As much as you would love to deny it, the cherry color that brushed your cheeks was not from the cold biting at your face, as Connor believed. You were blushing simply because Connor was just so cute. As the professional front that he put up when he first met you slowly chipped away, an irresistibly endearing and thoughtful personality was revealed. You wondered how someone with such an in-depth personality could be even slightly comparable to a machine.

“You don’t have to thank me; I’m just looking out for you. I don’t want you to get sick,” Connor stated. His intonation was always professional, but you learned to detect the hints of sweetness that were sometimes laced into his voice. He smiled gently at you, and you practically swooned.

“We have been standing here for 2 minutes and 23 seconds longer than usual. Shall we begin walking?” The android asked, his head tilting and his brows rising slightly, a mannerism that was quite familiar to you.

“Wow, a whole 2 minutes and 23 seconds?” You commented sarcastically and let out a slight chuckle. His lovable way of just being him always made your heart skip a beat. You playfully nudged him with your shoulder, causing him to smile.

“You’re right. Let’s go!” You shot out quickly before he could defend himself from your previous comment. You skipped forward, with Atlas following you at a trot. You could not hear his footsteps or Sumo’s behind you, and looked back to see what was keeping him. What you saw nearly made your heart stop beating. He was giggling to himself, and there was a softness on his face that you had not seen before. Something that you could not distinguish shone in his eyes as he gazed at you, a dazzling smile on his face. Whatever it was, though, made your breath catch in your throat.

You and Connor walked along the snow-covered pathway in the park, making idle chat as the time passed. The sun began peeking from the horizon, its bright light reflecting onto the snow. It was nearly blinding, and it took your eyes a moment to adjust. You wondered if Connor was having trouble seeing. Were his artificial eyes able to regulate the bright lights quicker than yours? One thought led to the next, and you pondered if he had night vision. His eyes looked so realistic, and the deep brown of his iris reflected light flawlessly. They were enchanting.

“Is there something on my face? You have been staring at me more than usual today.” Connor broke the silence, concern etched on his face as he gazed down at you. His eyes perforated into yours as he attempted to figure out your musings. Your heart stuttered as Connor leaned in close to you. “Your heart rate has increased,” he stated. Your eyes widened and you could feel your face heat up. You silently cursed CyberLife for making him able to identify how quickly your heart was beating with nothing more than a glance.

Atlas stopped abruptly and jerked you forward, interrupting you and Connor. You wordlessly thanked Atlas for saving you from the awkwardness of explaining yourself to the android as she stuck her nose into a snow-covered bush. Sumo repeated her actions, but with his entire head, and the snow on top of the shrubbery fell on both dogs. You let out an animated laugh when Atlas pulled herself from the bush and her coal-black fur was covered with bright snow. She stared at Sumo with a death glare as she shook the snow from her pelt.

The Saint Bernard ignored her, his thick fur sopping wet. Sumo innocently blinked as you continued to laugh, and Connor promptly joined in. The android’s laugh sounded like heaven to your ears. The moment was cut short when Sumo shook himself off, half-melted snow and substantial amounts of dog hair flying directly at you and Connor.

An idea popped into your head when you felt the snow fly onto you. You snickered to yourself before leaning down and scooping some snow into your hands. You formed it into a ball and cringed when it crunched audibly. You tried to be as inconspicuous as you could since you knew that the second Connor knew what you were doing, he would be able to dodge any attack you made. Although, with your luck, the android most likely knew about your plan before even you did due to his preconstruction software, or whatever the hell it was called.

Without a second thought, you hurled the snowball directly at Connor. Your aim was on point, and the snowball would have hit him square in the back of the head if he did not crane his neck to the side to dodge it. It barely grazed the edge of his ear. He turned around and stared at you, his eyebrow cocked upwards. There was a mischievous glint in his eyes as he stalked over to you, Sumo happily trotting after him.

“I hope you meant to miss that,” your name slipped from his lips. “It was entirely too easy to dodge. I don’t think you want to play these types of games with me.” He leaned down, his face now level with yours as he gave you a dangerous look. You gritted your teeth at his teasing, but a smile managed to inch its way onto your face. The close proximity made your heart thrum in your chest, but you managed to ignore it. He brought his hand up slowly, slightly hesitating before cupping your face. Even though he was an android, you could still feel subtle warmth emanating from it. His deep brown eyes bore into yours, his face tinted a slight blue.

“You know… I really enjoy our morning walks.”

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Hiii can i make a request for an imagine for daemon smutty??

Hiii. Hope you enjoy it!

Warnings: Smut, slight somnophilia, orgasm denial, spanking, degrading name calling. Word count: ~1k

She sighs and turns heavily in the bed yet again. Daemon remains undisturbed, deeply asleep, brow slightly furrowed even in slumber.

Gods, why won’t he wake up?!

The morning sunlight filters through the window in a blaze of pinks and reds, heralding the arrival of dawn. She knows he will sleep for a while longer, he usually does, but she needs him now.

Sleep has evaded her the last few hours and she is plagued by a throbbing ache between her legs that she knows only he can satisfy.

Her hand creeps beneath the blankets, tracing a path down the soft flesh of his abdomen, pushing through the thick patch of dark hair situated at the root of him, before it curls around his flaccid member.

Even when soft he still feels weighty and imposing against her palm. She begins to stroke him gently, smiling to herself as she feels him start to harden beneath her touch.

Daemon shifts in his sleep, grousing as he is roused into involuntary wakefulness.

“Pack that in.” He mumbles, voice thick with sleep, before closing his eyes again.

“Aōha ābrenka ao ajorrāelza!” She protests, giving him a slight squeeze that causes him to grunt. Your woman needs you!

“Kelītīs. You can give the sun a chance to rise and need me then, you spoiled little madam.” Stop it.

He keeps his eyes closed, but she delights in feeling that she now has the part of him she needs most standing to full attention.

“Please.” She whines, draping herself over him.

He cracks open a single eye, peeking at her derisively. “You think that wet little cunt of yours is more important than a Targaryen Prince’s need to rest?”

She pouts. “No! But…I could do all the work? Let me ride you.”

He elicits a withering sigh, scrubbing a hand over his face before looking at her properly. “You’ve never managed that without my help. You’ll whine that you’re tired and I’ll have to take over, lazy girl that you are.”

“I won’t!” She pleads. “I can do it myself, I don’t need your help.”

“Very well.” He says with a roll of his eyes. He slings his arms behind his head and regards her with a cocky smirk. “You’ll have no help from me. Hop on.”

She giggles excitedly, moving to straddle him. Grasping his erection, she positions the head of it at her entrance and sinks down slowly. The anticipation of having spent hours wanting Daemon has left her slick with arousal, and her cunny envelops him with little resistance.

Pride blooms in her chest as she sees his lips part slightly as he draws in a sharper intake of breath than usual. It pleases her to know that she affects him every bit as much as he affects her. She stays as she is for a moment, enjoying the fullness of him inside of her.

“Worn out already, jorrāeliarzus?” He teases, raising an eyebrow. Dearest.

“Daor!” She snaps back, beginning to roll her hips against his. No!

She sighs in relief, delighting in the way that Daemon’s eyes darken as he gazes up at her. She quickly finds a rhythm that she knows will bring her release. She has been so pent up she is certain it will not take long, especially with the tip of his cock repeatedly grazing at the spongy spot deep inside of her.

True to his word, Daemon lays still, watching her carefully, though the rise and fall of his chest has become more rapid. She can feel her peak cresting, as the tension in her lower belly coils tightly to a breaking point. As she is about to tip over the edge, the sensation is gone and she is robbed of her climax as Daemon jerks his hips backwards.

She lets out an anguished cry of frustration, her release ruined. “I was so close! Why did you do that?!”

“Usōvegon yno bēvilza.” He says with a mischievous glint in his eye. “I was getting a cramp. Carry on.” I must apologise.

She stares at him, a mixture of suspicion and annoyance pinching her features, but she is still utterly desperate for relief, so she resumes her movements, quickly working herself to the apex of her pleasure once more. He pulls his hips away again. She wails pitifully as the sensation leaves her void of satisfaction.

“Daemon! You are doing it on purpose!”

He chuckles. “If you want it that badly, riña litse, you will earn it.” Pretty girl

“Ñuhor līr gūrēnna.” She huffs at him. I will take what is mine.

“Go right ahead.”

By the fifth time Daemon denies her climax, her thighs are burning from the exertion and tears of vexation are welling up in her eyes. She feels so tightly wound she fears she may snap.

“Kostilus!” She whines. “This isn’t fair!” Please!

“Oh come now, I thought you were capable of riding me all by yourself?”

“I’m…” Her cheeks burn with humiliation, not wanting to finish her sentence.

“You’re what? Say it for me, riña litse, and it all goes away.” Pretty girl.

She whimpers, irritated by the sight of him still reclining lazily with his arms folded behind his head. She craves nothing more than for him to grab her hips and take charge, just as he always has. Her pride is eclipsed by her utter desperation as she relents and tells him what he wants to hear.

“I’m tired.” She whispers.

“Hmmm.” He muses. “Skoros vestri?” He takes her chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing her to look at him. What do we say?

“I need your help…please.”

“Jaehossas sȳris sātās.” He says cruelly. “She finally admits it.” Gods be good.

She squeals as he surges forward, grabbing her and manhandling her onto all fours beneath him. The crack of his palm across the meat of her rear is loud and sharp, leaving behind a hot, painful sting to her flesh in its wake that causes her to gasp.

“Ilībītsos.” He snarls. “If you wish to peak, I shall see to it that you do, repeatedly. You will take it, and you’ll think on the feeling the next time you entertain the idea of behaving like an insolent fucking brat.” Little slut.

She shivers, knowing she is about to be taught a lesson she won’t soon forget.

Read on AO3

More Daemon fics

[mammomlette]

thinking about how Belphie’s situation in s1 is so Blackbird (the song) coded

(Because I never stop thinking of lesson 16 and Belphie in season1 I could go on a word rampage about that arc.)

warnings: SPOILERS FOR LESSON 16 OBEY ME lesson 16 is its own warning guys

Notes: I basically just rewrote the s1 Belphie plot line. That’s it. It’s basically the exact same but written narratively lol. Also!! I plan on writing part 3 of the obey me as soulmate tropes (barb and dia are already done) but Solomon’s part is giving me such a creative block for some reason so it’s taking a while! Sorry!

Constructive criticism welcomed :)

“Blackbird singing in the dead of night,”

Shouts for help echoed through the hallways of the House of Lamentation. Why did it seem nobody but you (and the man who tried stopping you from approaching the attic, Lucifer) could hear them?

You snook your way around the house, trying to avoid the stars visible from Lucifer’s doorway and other places you’ve seen him roam at night. Even if he was distracted listening to Levi’s TSL vinyl, you didn’t want to risk it. You were determined to go up to the attic and listen to the voice shouting for you to please help, so you could free whatever may be trapped up there or at least hear it out.

You thought for a moment his calls for help sounded akin to a blackbird singing a morning’s song, though there are no mornings in the eternal darkness of the devildom; only the dead of night forever.

“Take these broken wings and learn to fly,”

You carefully made your way up the stairs, “MC, finally, no one is going to stop you. Now’s your chance to climb the stairs.” How did this voice know your name? More importantly, why are they asking you for help? What got them up there in the first place?

Your internal questions halted when you finally came face to face with the person behind the caged door of the attic. He never said his name, however he did ask you for help, and who were you if not humane? You’re here as a human, after all. He instructed to you to make pacts with the six demon brothers, starting with Beelzebub, in order to gain the power to free him. Your heart hurt for the poor human who claimed to have been locked away for so long they’ve forgotten who they are and how long exactly they’ve been locked away.

Make pacts with my brothers, learn to set me free.

“All your life, you were only waiting for this moment to arrive.”

Belphie has been waiting for so long, months now spent just sitting in the same room, air long turned stale. He could tell you exactly how many boards were on the floor and cobwebs were in the corners of the room. Of course, his brother had to lock him away. Of course, his brother chose Diavolo’s rule over his own little brother.

Finally, after so long, there was finally something. A human no less, who had finally managed to enter the attic. If it had to be a human who would save him, so what?

He had been waiting so long for this moment to arrive. A moment to be free again, and even a moment to seek revenge.

“Blackbird singing in the dead of night,”

All Belphie heard at night now was the voice of this human. It’s strange how much comfort its grown to bring him, given his plan. But the voice of his brothers and his dead twin would be much more comforting to hear, and his sister was a much more comforting presence.

He knows he won’t miss you when you’re gone, or else he just wouldn’t go through with it, he just wouldn’t continue to manipulate you into working to free him just for him to kill you. But he will miss the routine of having a concerned voice chirping at him in the dead of night while everyone else is asleep. He’s sure Beel will suffice.

“Take these sunken eyes and learn to see,”

At last the moment came, you had finally freed him, even if you weren’t there when the cage opened, he knows it was you. Had you finally made a pact with Lucifer? Is that why he’s free? Credit given where credit is due, you were surprisingly competent for a human. It’s a shame the fate that befalls you. The fate Belphie has the power of stopping, but chooses not to.

Your eyes were so tired he noticed in the brighter lighting of purgatory hall. Sunken and tarnished by dark bags. Was this the result of your late night visits to the attic? Had you just been working too hard? Who knows, I’d rather, who cares? Any pity he felt, he swallowed down and it was quickly drowned by his seething and growing hatred for your kind. Maybe in another life, he and Lilith would be sneaking down into the human world to watch you and your kin, but not anymore. You can’t teach him to see humans as more than vermin.

“All your life, you were only waiting for this moment to be free.”

A humans life is always only building up to death. It’s what every human spends their life anticipating, waiting for the sweet relief or curdling torture of death. Would you feel dread in your last moments? Perhaps irony? He never could grow fond enough of you to change his plans, but you did plant an invasive seed of interest in him. He hates how he wants to understand you now more than ever, how does the human mind and spirit face death? Are you different from the countless other humans he’s killed? Are you more accepting?

It’s sad to say that the only regret he has from killing you is not making it last long enough for you to express your final thoughts to him. If only he had dragged your death out longer, given you time and air to carefully pick out your last words, maybe even a last emotion shared just with him. The thought of wanting to be the one to see your dying face, hear your dying thoughts and feel your dying senses feels quite intimate for a murderer and the murdered. Maybe in another life you weren’t unfortunate enough to be born as a human. In another life, he thinks. He dwells on the ‘ifs’ too often.

It’s only natural for humans to die. They wait their entire life for that moment of freedom, really he gifted you by killing you while you were still well loved by those around you, his brothers. Oh, his brothers will be mad… they’ll get over it, in time. They can’t love you enough to stay mad at their sweet little brother, right?

[floppydiskettess]

alone (chamber x reader) (hurt/comfort)

a/n: im writing this in a super bad episode, if it sucks im sorry. i just need some sort of comfort right now and with this i can pretend i have someone who cares about me. i can pretend that someone actually notices that i am hurting.

tw: sh (hitting self, nothing gorey), severe depression, depressive episodes

when chamber returned to your shared living space, he was not expecting to be greeted to the suffocating silence surrounding the house.

"mon ange? are you here?" he called out but recieved nothing back. had you gone out on a mission?

he set down his items on a counter nearby and approached the bedroom. as he got closer he heard the small sounds of shuffling. when he sat right outsid ghe door, he heard the shaky heavy breathing on the other side just barely audible.

he frowns and worry crosses his face, he knocks on the door immediately.

"darling...? what's wrong? can you please let me in..?"

when you open the door, he lets out a soft gasp as he takes in your appearence. tear stains are present and running down your face from your exhausted dark eyes, just behind you he can see a bunch of little items thrown around as if an animal had ran through the room. he looked around before noticing the soft purple bruises forming on your arms. he nearly started crying then and there.

"mon dieu..what happened mon couer?" he says quietly as if he were trying not to spook you. as he takes in the state of you and the room, you begin crying harder. you messed up HIS space...he is going to be so mad...heisgoingtoleavemeand-

you feel two hands on your shoulders attemptijg to ground you. "hey hey...listen can you follow my breathing for me love?" he says as he pulls you into his chest so you can hear his breathing.

as you mimic his breathing, he softly praises you. "good job...thats it. i'm so proud.."

the only sound in the room is the two of you's soft breathing with the occasional sniffle. he loving rubs your back as he whispers softly into your hair.

"do you feel any better now dear?" when he feels your slow nod into his shoulder he smiles and hugs you tighter.

when you pull away from him, his rests hos hand on your cheek and slowly caresses his thumb over it.

"..do you want to talk about it..? it's alright if not. just tell me what you need."

"i just...why can't i be good at anything...? you have your gun designs...i just have nothing i am good at. i can't draw, or fight, or even be good at video games.."

"oh dear...i'm sorry you feel like that...i promise you that your "thing" will come soon alright? you don't have to be perfect for me or anyone else. now, can i ask where the bruises came from...? ....did you do that?"

seeing you shakily nod is all he needs before he grabs your arm and kisses it softly

"oh honey...why? you need to be careful. i love you so much ok? if you ever feel like this again please call me..i don't want you to suffer through this alone.." he says in a shaky tone you have never heard before. he sound...scared. observing the room around him, he can tell in your throwing match with the random trinkets that you had hit yourself on various items..his heart nearly shattered. when he hears you small muffled apology, he sighs.

"you have no need to be sorry, i am simply happy you are safe...now, what can we do to get this off your mind hm? would you like to watch that new show you told me about?" he said as he gave you a caring gaze.

the rest of the night was spent cuddling on the bed, you quickly fell asleep feeling drained from the stress. when you woke up, the room was tidy and you were pressed gently into his bare chest as he rubbed your back and let out soft breaths into your hair.

"you are not alone anymore mon amour. please, if you need lean on me. i will support you."

sorry for the self indulgent post. i literally described my morning but added someone there 💀. uh anyways i hope you all are doing ok and if you need support to reach out!

(please do not vent on this post)

[slasherbabi]

CG! Eddie Munson x Shifter Agere OC

Chapter 2. Back to Hawkins

Summary: BB finds herself back in Hawkins and Eddie finds himself more drawn to take care of her.

Warnings: Heavier Implications of abuse, implications of ED and SH. Gareth being a little mean, Eddie babying Bonnie. VERY LONG (2.9 k)

Eddie woke in the morning, he no longer felt the comforting weight of Bonnie on his chest, so he rolled over and stretched his arm out looking for her, groaning when he didn't feel her. "Mmmmm, Bon...?" After no answer, he sat up looking around and squinting, "Bon?" He sits up getting out of the bed, beginning to search the trailer, the clothes he'd given her were still in his bed, and hers were missing, had she left? He couldn't help feel a little let down, but despite that, he got dressed and left for the day. "No way you spent the night with a girl, we're losers Ed." Jeff snorted and looked among the group to see their reactions. "No no its true, he called me about it last night, soooo, you and stalker girl?" Gareth grins and nudges Eddie in the side. His jaw clenched in annoyance. "It's not like that, she's not a stalker she-" He cut himself off, the truth would sound insane, he wasn't even sure it was true, and if it was, he probably shouldn't be telling the town about it. "She's not a stalker. Anyway nothing happened, she had a nightmare or something, asked me to sleep next to her, and when I woke up she was gone." "She take anything?" Jeff asks, they'd never seen Eddie like this, so they got the hint to take it easy on the jokes. He shakes his head. "Stash untouched, money all there, tv, guitar, nothings missing. She said she wasn't from Hawkins, I don't have her number." There was an uncomfortable silence as Eddie pushed around the food on his tray with his fork. "I don't think I'll ever see her again..."

Bonnie woke up to the sound of yelling and things being thrown around the house, a familiar noise, but unsettling none the less, she whines softly. "Eddie? What's happening?" Her eyes opened and she saw she was back in her own room. "Oh... it was a dream." She slowly sat up before seeing her legs, cut and bruised and grazed, pretty freshly too. A finger pressed around the wounds experimentally causing her to hiss, it wasn't a dream? "Bonnie! Get your ass downstairs!" She jumps up and pulls on a hoodie to cover the hellfire shirt, going downstairs as instructed. "Heard you up last night, no wonder you've slept half the day. And who were you talking to just now?" "It's only mid day papa, and no one, just... myself." A strong grip tightened around her wrist. "Then what happened to your legs hm? You been sneaking out?" "I'm an adult-" "-You're my daughter! You listen to me! Go get my tools!" "But-" "Get!" He shoves her toward the door, causing her to trip and smack into the wall. Bonnie was immediately crying but ran to get the tools, it would only upset him more to see her cry, or that she'd split her lip, as well as bumping above her eye, which would no doubt bruise, and her nose started bleeding. She wiped her face as best as she could with her sleeve as she collected her dads bag, dragging it back to him and keeping her head down.

Bonnie watched from her bed as her dad boarded shut her window, and then added a lock to the outside of her door. "What if I have to pee? What if there's a fire?" "You can hold it. And god forbid the house set on fire, you'd better hope I remember to let you out." Without another word, the door was shut and locked, locking Bonnie in the room with no way out. After a while of crying and panicking from being trapped, she grabbed her phone and began typing searching up to see if anyone had similar experiences to her from last night, and after having to continuously filter results and change her search she found it, she found what she was looking for. A blog talking about their shifting experience, and the more she read through it, the more it sounded like that's exactly what she did, just, without meaning to. Her next search, how to do it again. It wasn't long before she was lying in bed, trying all sorts of different methods, she hadn't scripted, she wanted the pure, authentic Eddie she met last night. Bonnie steadied her breathing, focusing on the memory of Eddie. A soft smile spread on her face and she felt herself drifting.

Bonnie jolted awake, looking around and sighing in relief to see Eddies room surrounding her, she laid back in his sheets comfortably, at home she had a mattress and two pillows so she was grateful for the warm, cosy bedding, it was just an added bonus that they smelt like Eddie. Speaking of, she got up and headed for the door. "Eddie?" She opened the door to see an older, balding man drinking coffee, she recognised him as uncle Wayne, but still shrieked in surprise and slammed the door shut.

Eddie got home, taking off his jacket and hanging it up before leaning back to crack his back, he went to go make a snack when a voice behind him spoke. "Who's the girl?" Uncle Wayne, Eddie looked at him and saw a smirk, "In your room?" He elaborated, "Don't worry, not mad, just, use protection and keep the noise down-" "When did she get here?" "Well, I got in before you left, so I assumed she stayed the night, certainly didn't get here since I've been home." Eddie didn't wait a second longer, rushing to his room and opening the door. "Bon!" He grins before fidgeting and clearing his throat, "I mean, you're back! Where'd you go?" He crossed his arms awkwardly trying not to seem so excited. Bonnie was curled up in the corner, hugging her knees to her chest. "My uncle scare yo-" he was cut off to her hugging him tight, her face hidden in his chest, he hoped she wouldn't hear the way his heart skipped a beat. "Hey? You okay...?" "When I fell asleep, I woke up at home again..." She was trembling slightly. Eddie grew worried and gently lifted her face, his expression dropping seeing her black eye and busted lip. He strokes her hair back with a worried expression, hands slightly shaking with hidden rage, the cold metal of his rings gently brushing her cheeks. "Who did this to you?" She shook her head. "It doesn't matter you can't fi-" "Bon, Who. Did. This?" "My dad." His jaw tensed, she was right, he couldn't do anything, it broke his heart, but when he saw her eyes welled with tears, it washed away, replaced with worry, being mad wouldn't help anything, he wanted to help her instead. "You'll stay here, with me, I'll keep you safe, here." Eddie knelt in front of her and looked away as he pulled down her shorts, replacing them with his sweatpants. "What are you doing?" BB asks, watching him nervously, chewing on the ends of her sleeve as she felt herself beginning to slip. "I'm gonna take care of you. That okay?" She blushed wildly and nods making him smile wide. "Good girl." Eddie had an urge for a while, to have someone in his life that needed him, to care for them, to... baby them. He never understood the compulsion. "Come on baby bat, up you come." Eddie picked up her up, wrapping her legs around his waist, making her hug onto his neck in panic, fearing she'd be dropped. "It's okay, I got you."

Eddie sat her on the side of the bathtub, gently cleaning off her face of the dried blood. "Tell me if I'm hurting you, okay?" Bon once again nods softly, still chewing and sucking on her sleeve. "Good girl, hey hey no baby... icky. Look your sleeves are all wet now..." He opened a draw and pulled out a numbing cream, gently applying it to her injuries. "Sowwy..." He paused at the way she spoke, but smiles. "It's okay, how about we go to the store and you can pick out anything you want okay? So, something you can chew on too?" Eddie smiles wide and kisses her forehead gently. "First, how about we brush this hair?" "Okay..." She smiles wide and reaches up to be picked up again.

"Laces all tied?" Eddie had found an old pair of his from being younger, they had all sorts of drawings on them. "Yep! All tied!" Bon's legs swing back and forth from the van seat. "Okay, so hold my hand, don't wonder off, and while I adore that little voice of yours, I think it's best you don't talk to anyone, okay?" He was worried about the people in this town being their usual selves and making her feel bad, and also worried people would question who she even was, the people here were paranoid especially after the last few years. She nods firmly, waiting as he came to her side of the van, unbuckled her and lifted her out of the van. Her hand clasps around his, automatically pressing herself to his side as they walked into the little store. They walked to the clothing isle, "So you have stuff to wear at mine?" He chuckles, making her chew her lip shyly, she kinda liked wearing his clothes, "Do you wanna pick or can I?" The regressor in her craved being cared for completely, even being dressed. "You pick." BB spoke quietly so she wouldn't be heard. "Okay... why don't you look around and pick some things, and meet me right over there okay?" He pointed to an Icee machine, giving her hand a squeeze and then a little kiss before watching her walk away.

Bonnie waddled nervously down each isle, stopping when she came to the baby section, she wanted badly to get some things, she didn't have much at home, but she didn't know if Eddie would want to buy these for her, on the other hand, maybe she could lie about why she wanted to it, nervously picking up a sippy cup, bottle, and a set of plate, bowl and cutlery with teddy bears printed on it. She nervously held the items to her chest and continued looking through them, after a lot of thought, she chose to stay with what she had, not wanting to push Eddie. She made her way towards the Icee machine, eyes widening to see a familiar face sat on the counter drinking one. "Gareth?" His face turns to her and he frowns. "I know you?" His tongue was a bright purple colour from the drink, her face grew a somewhat scared expression. "O-oh... No no sorry I thought you were someone else..." He looked over her confused before noticing the shoes, Eddies. "Stalker girl? Holy shit it's stalker girl!" He chuckles to himself and gets off of the counter, getting close to her, "Eddie told us all about you, so, how do you know all this stuff about us?"

On the other side of the store, Eddie was busy filling a basket with all sorts of stuff, the urge to spoil becoming too hard to conquer, he also slipped a few things into his pockets, but his head snapped up hearing the familiar voice of his club member, Gareth, yelling "Stalker girl." His heart dropped, he loved his friends, but he knew what they were like, just like how he was usually. He rushed towards the noise, seeing Gareth and Bonnie. "Gareth back off." Eddie tapped BB's hand with his finger, letting her know he was there if she needed, trying to hold back a smile when he felt her hand wrap around two of his fingers. Gareth's hands lifted defensively. "Just asking her questions, looking out for my guy. So," He looks down at their hands "You two are...?" Eddie gave a stern look and Gareth decided to drop it. "Well... uh, have fun, see ya Monday I guess..." With that he walked away and Eddie knelt in front of BB stroking her hair, "You okay? I'm sorry about him..." She nods and reaches forward hugging around his neck tight and hiding her face in the comforting nest that was his hair. "Oh... "He hugged back "Hey its okay, just gotta pay and we can go back to mine okay? Just me an' you alright? Can you do that f'me?" He pulled back doing his best to look down at her despite their close proximity, pouting a little "Please?" Bonnie takes a deep breath and nods softly, letting go of Eddie before pointing at the cart he was trying to hide. "Wha's dat?" Eddie made a mental note to ask about how she was talking later on, but for now he guided her attention back to him. "Those are surprises when we get back home okay?" She looked away from them and nods softly, smiling a little, "I'm gonna need you to gimme what you've chosen, and then look away so the surprise isn't ruined, 'kay?" Once he was handed her items, he smiled wide at what she'd chosen, a little baby bottle? He couldn't help picturing himself holding her on his lap and feeding her with the bottle, but quickly shook the idea from his head and frowned at himself for thinking that way, he paid for the items, well the ones that weren't hidden in his pockets, hid everything away in the bag, and turned back to Bonnie. "Time for home."

Once the pair got back, Eddie led Bonnie to his room, guiding her to sit down and taking the shoes off for her. "First, for my girl," The words caught her attention, his girl, " The plates and bottle you picked out..." She snatched them up trying to hide them shyly making him chuckle and grab her hand "No need for that, I already saw them anyway sweetheart." He tucked some of her hair out of the way just admiring her face for a moment before digging through the bag, the first item he pulled out was a soft teddy bear making her gasp and go to grab it, but hesitating and looking at him for approval. "Go on, its yours." He could see the fear in her face, the long term affects of her abuse. "Good girl..." He praises gently when she takes it. The next items from the bag consisted of a few other stuffed animals, leaving her in a pile of them, followed by many different cute clothes half were bright baby pastels, and the other were black and grey "In case you wanted to look like yours truly." He'd explained, there were shirts with cute decals printed on them, like little flowers or bees, one had stars and clouds. he then pulled out a dress, it was a skater dress with a pink floral design. And last but not least, he pulled out a few more items, a 2 pack of pacifiers, "I'd be careful with these they might hurt your teeth." She blushed brightly at the sight of them, he also pulled out a little rattle toy, a teether toy, a bottle of his own as well as a bunch of food and candy and applesauce. Something about her too him, he didn't know what it was, he wanted to baby her, and he had a feeling she'd want that. "Let's get you into your own clothes now, m'kay?" She nods softly "Want my help?" she nods again, allowing him to carefully remove his clothing from her, replacing it with an oversized blue carebears shirt, and some soft shorts, though the shirt was was large enough to cover them completely anyway. "Now, your hair, can I tie it up for you sweetie? Wanna see that pretty face of yours." Bonnie was busy staring down at her clothing, she felt adorable in the oversized, lightly coloured clothing and eddies mismatched comfy socks, her long hair covering her face before she squealed and hugged him tightly catching him off guard and nearly making him topple over, "Awww I'm glad you like it honey, now." He put a few pillows on the floor and sat on his bed, "sit, back t'me princess." She did as he said and sat between his legs, shyly playing with his pant legs and hugging one of her new stuffed animals close. Eddie had braided his own hair before, but this was someone else and much longer, he'd give it his best go. Once her hair was done, he grins at her, "There's the gorgeous princess, now, sit tight, I need to go speak with my uncle." He takes the plate from the set and the sippy cup before leaving BB alone in his room, finding Wayne watching TV. "There he is, my favourite uncle, anything I can get you? A beer, a sandwi-" "What do you want? Is it about the girl?" "What? Pfft, no! Such accusations, I'm deeply offended." "So what is it?" "... Okay yeah it's about BB, can she stay here?" He put his hands in the 'please' position. "Eddie-" "Did you not see her face? She doesn't have somewhere safe to go. Please Wayne." That hit his soft spot, Wayne glared at the boy who occupied his trailer for a similar reason, remembering a young teen Eddie sniffling up at him, black eye and a trash bag full of his stuff. "Fine... Just, remember what I said earlier." His face went red, head rolling back as he groaned. "Jesus Wayne! It's not like that." Eddie shook the embarrassment off, breathing a sigh before going back to his room, watching her for a moment in silence. "Hey Bon?" To Be Continued, Part 3

Tags @hi-im-fan-trash

[angie-starz]

The chonozawa timline in my Au is a decade long affair:

In Canon Aizawa is 31(30 at the beginner of the series) and Chrono doesn't have a Canonical age so I put him as the same age a Chisaki, 28 (27 during the SH raid); so that gives them a 3 year age gap.

The Neolithic age

First meeting: Hari 18 & Shouta 21

Aizawa is just beginning his hero career, still very scarred by the death of his friend and his relationship with Mic on the rocks(⚠️apologies in advance, this will be the death of erasermic⚠️) they decide to take a break and not see eachother for a while. He gets offered to go on a mission in Esuha yakuza territory, he agrees, he goes, he settles in a hotel, they get started on the case. (I will not talk too much on the case no spoilers for the fic). Essentially, Aizawa is approached by Kurono who offers to help him with the case since he doesn't know jackshit about the yakuza, Aizawa asks why he'd help and Kurono tells him he's just a local keeping a look out for his people since no outsiders will. They obviously dislike eachother at first, both of them tolerating the other to achieve their goals with Aizawa planning to arrest him after all this is over. Aizawa eventually pieces together Kurono is yakuza after a series of misadventures and investigation, they started as reluctant allies and ended as unlikely friends going their separate ways.

Interlude I...

Aizawa goes back to Tokyo, to mic after the mission and they try again but Aizawa keeps thinking about the time he spent in Esuha and just can't shake off the feeling of wanting to go back. Months pass and eventually mic breaks it off with him himself because he realises things really won't work. Meanwhile back in Esuha, Kurono Is getting reprimanded by the old boss for his reckless actions through the investigation but he insists he only did it to protect the SH. He talks to kai about it to which he ensures hari he did the right thing by preventing the police from coming snooping in their territory(Yes. Tragic one-sided chronohaul)

Meeting again: Hari 19 & Shouta 22

It's been a year, and Aizawa is still pondering why he doesn't feel a thing for the breakup but longs to go back to esuha. He's watching the news one day and finds that investigations are being held for the figure who was held responsible for threatening the authorities in The first meeting this gives him the push/excuse to finally go back to esuha to check on Kurono. When gets there he finds kurono, he's staying in an abandoned building across the city and he's freaking out because he's practically endangered the SH and now he's realising that the boss was right. Aizawa snaps him out of it and tells him that he's here to help, kurono doesn't believe him and ask why he would even try to and Aizawa replies that he's just an outsider looking out for the locals. The rest of it is spent with them on kind of on the run, aizawa offers his car amd pays a motel for Kurono until his name is cleared even if he did actually have ALOT to do with the accusations. They spend alot of time bonding and opening up, surprisingly by the times all the ruckus has died down another year has passed, Hari is 20 and Shouta is 23

The middle ages

Frequent interactions: Hari is 21-24 and Shouta is 24-27 during this period

After everything that happened, they're seeing eachother alot more often, exchanged numbers And Aizawa has an apartment in Esuha that Kurono break in to stays at whenever he's not busy with SH work. Through the years they're essentially dancing around eachother, they could be dating but they never put a label on what they are. Aizawa is willing to make them official but Kurono hold off from it because he feels guilty because he feels he's betraying Chisaki. It's almost like he's cheating but can it really count as infidelity if him and kai are not even really together? He leaves the apartment early every morning before Aizawa can wake up but he always comes back even when Aizawa is all the way in Tokyo. This is also around the time Aizawa takes in Shinsou, so just throw that in there.

The ice age

Ghosting: Hari is 25-27 and Shouta is 28-30

Eri gets dumped on the doorstep of the DH at the age of 3 in December right before she tirns 4 and everything in the compound falls into chaos. Kurono gets sidetracked with everything going on, helping chisaki in the lab to figure out what her quirk is, reassuring him that she isn't a replacement for him in the old man's eye. He's doesn't visit Aizawa as often, practically at all but they are still texting. Until he changes his number and goes radio silence for 2-3 years. Aizawa on his end is confused because he got no explanation and not even a goodbye. He goes around Esuha, to places they'd frequent together but there's no trace of him at all. He doesn't believe Kurono would skip town, he's too loyal to his organisation to do so. Kurono now has fully embraced chronostasis alongside overhaul continuing the experiments for the quirk eraser drug. They go on about their lives but still ruminate about eachother deeply. That is until the raid. When Aizawa finds out that its based on the SH, he tries to reach out to Kurono again but still nothing. The first time they meet again is when he's captured by chronostasis underground.

The extinction or revival age

Where we left off: Hari is 27-28 and Shouta is 30-31

They have a one-sided conversation with Aizawa not being able to move. Kurono is pissed that he's here, he shouldn't be here, they were never meant to see each other again. Kurono grapples with his loyalty to the SH and what he wants but will never admit. He Considers killing Aizawa to put an end to this entire affair but as he raises his dagger and prepares to plunge it into his back, he stops and just can't. With the dagger in hovering above, he sighs and tells Aizawa that he'll let him go but to never expect to see him again as he prepares to take the last of the drug and research and run. But then Suneater bursts through the door, stabs Chronostasis's hand with the swordfish and he has reinforcements with him. The rest of the raid goes on as is. Kurono is taken to a Villains hospital for his hand and Aizawa after a while goes to see him.

From here, anything goes. That's why call it death or revival because it can go either way depending on how I'm feeling. They could work thing out for the better or they could stay just accept that the stage of questioning is permanent.

-

I'm always anxious to post any long writing/character pair analysis because I just feel that I'm not smart enough to analyse them and or they just make sense in my head that when I try to form words or explain them it doesn't make sense so it really tried to get the idea of them here!

[november-rayne]

Chapter Five: The Lost Prince

A/N: Oh, our sweet prince. What a naughty little sh*t he's been.

Word Count: 1700

Rating: Mature

Tags: Mentions of heavy alcohol and drug use

*This story is for mature audiences only.* 18+ *Minors DNI*

Thor had been tasked with keeping his brother out of trouble by his mother when she first embarked on their tour. He agreed to the task at the time but no idea what was in store for him.

After the news of his betrothal arrived, Loki ran away from the palace, moving through the realm like a hurricane. Drinking, drugs, and sex were his new religion, and he worshiped without ceasing.

Loki spent the next several weeks drinking excessively and bedding any warm, willing body available. Discretion went out the window. He attended orgies without wearing his usual illusion disguise. The common quiet rumors became open discussions in pubs and shared gossip in society circles.

He caroused all hours of the day. He only slept when his body passed out from exhaustion or overconsumption. He hit the bottle as soon as he woke, usually under a pile of naked bodies or alone in some strange place, unsure of how he ended up there.

His status as prince granted him access to all the best the realm had to offer. His chaos was untamed.

Initially, he knew to move around frequently to keep anyone from the palace from getting wind of his exact location. However, as the weeks passed, he lost track of days. He ran out of coins, leaving a trail of IOUs wherever he went. He did remember to keep to the less affluent areas. He knew he did not want to run into friends of his parents.

One chilly morning, Thor tracked Loki to a brothel on the capital’s outskirts. This part of the realm was certainly no place for a prince. The streets were narrow, the buildings in disrepair, and the vibe in the air was nothing short of hostile. But this morning, it was quiet, like the neighborhood was sleeping off a hangover.

Thor pushed open the heavy oak door and stepped into the dark entry. No one was behind the long counter where guests would check in and pay their coins. He stepped through the heavy velvet curtain that separated the foyer from the parlor.

Men and women were sleeping in various stages of undress on piles of cushions and couches. Discarded bottles and goblets littered the floor. The sweet smell of incense barely masked the heavy scent of sweat and sex. Thor scanned the dark room looking for his brother.

An older woman wearing a long, thick robe came into the parlor from one of the hallways on the side of the large room, shuffling carefully through the refuse and stepping over prone bodies.

“I’m sorry, but we are not open for business at this hour. You could come back after midday.”  She smiled sweetly at Thor and lightly touched his arm to lead him to the exit.

“Greetings, madam. I am not looking for a consort. My name is Thor Odinson. I am looking for my brother, Loki.”  The woman gasped and stepped back, sinking into a deep curtsey.

“My apologies, Your Highness. These old eyes did not recognize My Prince in this darkness. Please forgive me.”

“’Tis nothing. Now, if you please, this is an urgent family matter. I need to find my brother.”

“Yes, of course, right this way! Please, watch your step.”  The woman led Thor through the hallway on the opposite side of the room. Then up two flights of rickety stairs and down another hallway. She stopped in front of a door with a heavy brass knocker. “Your brother rented the VIP apartment.”  She licked her lips and looked up at Thor with a hint of fear in her eyes. “He doesn’t like being disturbed.”

Thor leaned down so that he was more level with her lined face. “Unlock the door. That is not a request, do it now.”  Her eyes widened, and she scrambled in her robe to produce a thick iron key ring. Her hands shook slightly as she worked the ring around and around again, searching for the correct key.

“Ah! Here we are!” She unlocked the door and stepped aside.

“Many thanks.” Before he could take a step, the woman cleared her throat. “Yes?”

“Well, Prince Loki has not paid his tab in weeks. If you plan to remove him back to the palace, I must collect so I may pay my employees.”

Thor furrowed his brow, “I see. I can cover his tab. How much does he owe you?”

She shifted nervously. “Prince Loki has been going through quite a bit of my ale, mead, and wine. Not to mention the food and… entertainment. He has run up quite a debt. We are, of course, honored to have a prince of Asgard as a guest, but…”

“Spit it out, woman. How much?” Thor was on an extremely tight deadline, and his patience was paper thin.

“Twelve hundred,” the woman blurted out.

“Twelve hundred silver?”

“Twelve hundred gold, Your Highness. Prince Loki has generously shared with the rest of the guests.”

“Of course, he has.”  Thor gritted his teeth and ran a hand through his sandy blond hair. “I don’t carry that kind of coin around with me. I can have it delivered. What say you?”

“Certainly, Your Highness.”  She curtseyed deeply and hurried off down the hall.

Thor took a deep breath and slowly pushed the door open. He found the state of Loki’s room much like the parlor. It was spacious, with tall windows along the back wall. The canopy bed sat atop a platform. There were cushions and couches dotted around the room. The en suite bathroom was off to the other side.

Thor stepped over a man with long auburn hair and began scanning the room for his brother. Bodies covered the bed in a tangle of naked arms and legs. This was going to prove more difficult than he thought.

“I wondered how long I would be allowed to remain off the leash.”  Loki’s faint voice came from behind Thor’s back.

He turned to see his brother leaning against the bathroom doorway. He wore only a thin pair of linen pajama bottoms hanging loosely around his hips. He had lost weight; Thor could see his ribs plainly. He had red wounds on his arms and deep purple kiss marks and bites on his neck and abdomen. His hair was limp and dirty, and his complexion was paler than usual, making the purple rings under his eyes more prominent. In his hand was a half-empty bottle of spirits which he brought to his swollen lips and took a long, slow swig.

Thor had prepared a stern speech in his mind when he opened the door. But, after taking in the state of his little brother, all he could choke out was, “Loki…”

Loki looked as if the door frame was the only thing keeping him upright. He tried to take a step forward but stumbled backward. He caught himself with his free hand and braced against the doorway again.

“Loki, this depraved debauchery has gone on long enough. Your time is up! It is time to come back to the palace.” 

Loki took another long drink from his bottle, shrugging his shoulders.

“I am taking you home. Where are your clothes?”  Thor asked while looking around the room with a scowl of disdain.

“Haven’t required them, it seems.”  Loki drawled out, rubbing the cool glass of the bottle across his forehead, and struggling to keep himself upright. “I think I will have a sleep and meet you back at home. Tomorrow morning is preferable, yes… one more day…. will not hurt.”

Loki’s eyes were closing of their own accord as he slowly slid to the floor.

“Oh no, you don’t!” Thor ripped the ornate canopy off the bed and draped it over Loki’s bare shoulders. He yanked the bottle from his grip and hoisted him over his shoulder.

“I will catch Hel from our parents as it is! No way am I going to get into hot water for you missing greeting your fiancé at the gates.”

That sobered Loki up a bit. “What did you say? Put me down!”

Thor was outside in the crisp morning air in no time flat. He managed to make it back through the parlor without stepping on anyone. The brothel’s owner was at the counter in the entryway as they left. She was about to complain about making off with the bedding but thought better of it.

“What bloody time is it?” He squinted in the direction of the dawning sun and pulled the canopy tighter around his shoulders as Thor stood him upright. Goosebumps rose on his bare skin, “What bloody day is it?”  He frowned as he swayed where he stood in his bare feet. He was disoriented and on the verge of vomiting.

“Just get up here! We need to get out of here before anyone sees us.”  Thor yanked Loki’s arm and jerked him up onto his horse in front of him. “Hold on!”

“This is humiliating!” Loki cried, struggling to hold the canopy closed around his body. Thor took off despite his protest. Fringe and large tassels flapped in the air.

Loki lamented the lack of a tunic and cloak as the cool air whipped around his body. The barely-there linen bottoms and a decorative cloth were his only protection against the wind.

“Oh, shut up! You are proving to be more trouble than you are worth. I would have smothered you in your cot when you were a baby had I known what a giant pain in my ass you would turn out to be!”  Thor’s horse thundered along a narrow dirt road around the capital's outskirts.

“First of all, rude! Secondly, what did you say about a fiancé?”

“Mother has sent more messages; they arrive home this afternoon. Your future bride and her parents in tow. She thought it would be a clever idea for the two of you to meet and get to know each other before the wedding, which for your information, is scheduled for one month from today.”

Loki felt the world get colder. A heavy black curtain covered his eyes, and he slumped forward in the saddle.

“Bloody Hel!”  Thor caught Loki around the waist before he could tumble from the horse.

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XOXO- Rayne 💚

[eternal-love-song]

Die Another Day For Me

On his last night alive, Kokichi gets an unexpected visitor to the hangar and a rather unhinged confession from the last place he expected.

[Kokichi/Tsumugi] [Kokichi POV, Angst, Love Confessions, Unrequited Love]

Written for @dr-rarepair-week-blog Soulmates

The bottle was empty. Kokichi knew that when he picked it up. He was the one that had told that idiot spaceman to drink it. He had watched him throw back the antidote like it was a shot. He knew that it was empty. He still couldn't stop himself from tipping the empty bottle over his mouth and taking whatever meager drops of liquid rained down onto his tongue.

He just needed to go a little longer. He just needed to make it through the night.

Yes, his body was aching. His hand kept spasming and making him drop his pen. He was dizzy and his eyesight kept swimming in and out randomly. He wasn't done yet though. He needed to finish his script. He needed to stick to his plan. The antidote was already gone so it was too late to bitch out even if he really wanted to.

And he did want to. Just a little.

Kokichi didn't want to die. He had spent this whole killing game wanting to live. Fighting to live. He had fought tooth and nail, bitten and clawed. ran and screamed, all so that he could live. He had watched his best friends die, all so he could live. All so that he could save… someone. Anyone.

And now he was here thinking about how much he didn't want to die.

Kokichi laughed at himself, which turned into a few heavy coughs that sent pain through his entire body. "So stupid… It's too late for that."

Kokichi jumped when he heard a sound echoing through the hanger, looking up and around wondering if somehow Maki had gotten in once more. A bottle rolled toward his feet and he snatched it without thinking. He had to stare at it a moment to understand what he was seeing and when he did, his jaw dropped open.

"Another antidote?"

"That's the last one." It took a moment for the voice to register and an even longer moment of him squinting in the dark for him to make out the form walking toward him.

"Tsumugi?"

"You need that right? You should take it before it's too late."

He wondered how she got it. There was no sign that she'd used an exisal like Maki had and he couldn't think of another way for her to have gotten in. At least, not at first.

Kokichi blamed the slowness on the fact that there was poison running through him. Of course there was only one way that she could have gotten in here. And of course, it would be her. The most boring person here would of course turn out to be the fucking mastermind.

He laughed again, low this time to avoid triggering a coughing fit. "It's you. You're the fucking mastermind."

"You shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth, Kokichi," she told him. Tsumugi's face was blank, tired, maybe even sad, as she spoke to him. "You don't want to die, do you?"

"That's rich coming from the person that's making us kill each other."

Tsumugi was close enough now that he didn't have to squint to see her, so the way she pressed her lips together in displeasure was easy to see. "You always have to be so difficult."

"Sure do!" he replied with a wide grin. "Difficult is my middle name!"

"Look, you don't have much time," she told him. "That poison acts fast, you'll barely make it past morning if you wait."

"Who said that I was planning to live?" he asked her.

That actually broke her act. Her face became such a perfect mask of distress that it had to be fake. And she must have been a good actor to get that perfect lip tremble and the way her hands shook as she clenched her skirt. "Please," she said softly.

Kokichi's own expression dropped into a blank mask to counter her overemotional one. "Please what?"

"Please live!" she yelled. "Please, just take the antidote and live! I don't want you to die! Not like this!"

His mask couldn't hold up beneath the amount of confusion he was feeling. Not when there was still so much pain running through him, giving him sharp pains with every other movement. It was more important to put his willpower into suffering twitches and tremors than trying to hide his confusion.

"What are you talking about?"

Tsumugi stumbled toward him, but seemed to stop herself from getting too close. "I don't want you to die," she repeated frantically. "So please, just take the antidote!"

Kokichi studied her, reevaluating her expression.

No way. No way that it was sincere. No way that the fucking mastermind of this killing game had come out into the open, breaking her own immaculate cover, just to try and get him to live? This had to be a joke. A giant cosmic joke that the universe was playing him. There was actually no way.

"You're fucking kidding me right now," he told her, spitting the words out venomously.

Tsumugi clutched her skirt tighter. "I'm not. I really want you to live."

Kokichi couldn't help it, he laughed again. "I see what's happening here. Can't stand to lose your precious villain, so you want to keep me around as long as possible, huh?"

"That's not… I mean, I…" Tsumugi stumbled over her words a few times, looking more and more nervous as she did so. "Maybe it was like that at first," she admitted. "But it's different now. It's not just because you're the antagonist that I want you to live. It's… it's too soon… to lose you. I'm not ready…"

"Call off the killing game," he told her.

"What?" she looked at him with large, surprised eyes. They looked even bigger beneath those glasses of hers.

"If you want me to live, call off the killing game."

Tsumugi shook her head, almost desperately. "I can't do that."

Kokichi clenched his fist a moment before pushing himself to his feet and tossing the antidote back to her. Tsumugi stumbled forward so that she could catch the small bottle. "Then no. I won't do it."

"Kokichi, please!" The look on her face was priceless. It was the kind of panic the others had worn when they saw their execution looming near. Weird for her to wear that expression over him. "Just take the antidote. Whatever you're trying to do, you can do it better if you live."

"Why do you want me to live so badly, huh?" Kokichi tilting his head. He was still thinking, still trying to put the pieces together, even though he knew he wouldn't live long enough to do anything with them. Not anymore. He hoped that when he died, it was a pain in the ass for the mastermind. He hoped that Tsumugi would slam her fist against a wall and break her stupid hand in frustration.

"Because… Because I…"

"Because what?" he demanded.

Tsumugi stumbled forward a few more steps, almost close enough to touch, before falling to her knees. She looked up at him with tearfilled eyes as she said the stupidest, most ridiculous thing that Kokichi could have ever imagined. "Because I love you!"

Kokichi couldn't help the immediate disgust on his face as he took a step back and practically spat, "What?"

"I love you," she said again. Just as desperately. Just as tearfully. Just as horrifically, disgustingly sincere as the first time she'd said it. He would have respected it more if it was a lie, a ploy to try to manipulate him. The fact that the mastermind of the fucking killing game was trying to sincerely confess her love to him of all people, now of all times, actually pissed him off.

"There's no fucking way," he said, glaring at her with all the hate in his heart. "That you think you're in love with me."

"How could I not love you?" she asked desperately. "You were made for me."

"The hell are you talking about?"

"Don't you see?" she asked, crawling closer to him and making him back away. "You're the hero!"

"What?"

"I'm the mastermind," she said, and even though he'd already figured that out, hearing her say it aloud was still disturbing and filled him with dread. "You're the one that's meant to stop me."

"I'm no hero." Kokichi knew that with absolutely certainty.

"You are!" she insisted. "Shuichi might be the main character, but you're the one that's been fighting against me all this time. You're the one that I've been pushing and pulling against. You might be the villain to them, but we both know that you aren't really. That's my role. I'm the villain that they see as a friend and you're the friend that they see as a villain. We perfectly complime-"

"You're crazy," he told her. No surprise that the mastermind was out of her mind, but this was too much.

"I'm not!" Tsumugi shook her head. "Or maybe I am. Maybe thinking about you so much has made me lose my mind." She looked up at him again, meeting his eyes. "But I really do love you. I want you to live more than anything."

"Bullshit."

"At least until the end," she insisted more softly. "I don't want you to die where there are still so many… when we're still so far from the end…"

"I'm not going to live for your sake," he told her.

"Then live for them," she said. "Live so that you can help them. Shuichi can't do this on his own, you know. And think of how beautiful that narrative would be, the antagonist and protagonist finally coming together? Both of the best people in this game finally getting to triumph over the true villain? It's beautiful! You're beautiful."

"You're batty."

Tsumugi came even closer. "When I first wrote this script, I thought Shuichi would be my foil. A detective trying to find the truth, of course he'd be locked in a heated battle with the mastermind, right? But that's not true. He's not the one that I've been fighting all this time. It's been you."

That doesn't make us fucking soulmates or whatever," he hissed, backing away from her. He almost stumbled as a sharp pain tore through his lungs. He'd almost forgotten that he was dying from an incredibly painful poison when he had this equally painful mental breakdown of the mastermind happening right before his eyes.

If he were honest, he thought he preferred the poison.

"It does," she said again. "You were made for me. You were made to be my perfect match! What else could it be but love, when we keep backing each other into corners, thinking about each other night and day, fighting and fighting and fighting just to get the other's attention?"

"I don't want anything to do with you!"

Tsumugi came even closer, looking at him with pure desperation. "You can kill me," she told him. "If you win this game, you can kill me. You can help the others and escape. Even if you hate me, even if you don't want anything to do with me, I'll still love you. I'll die for you! All you have to do is take this antidote and win!"

Kokichi was almost backed up against the wall at this point as he tried to keep distance between them. He never could have guessed that she was so crazy, though he knew that the mastermind couldn't possibly be sane. This was more than he could take from her.

Still, there was a part of his brain that was working. There were gears that were still turning. Slowed by poison and stuttering from the overload of this weird display, but still working.

Kokichi didn't want to die, but even more than that, he didn't want to give the mastermind what she wanted. He wanted to win, but he didn't want to play into the mastermind's hand. There was only one thing he could do.

He couldn't sculpt his face into something less freaked out than he was feeling, but he did manage to reach down and take the antidote from her hands. The relief that spread on her face was so instant and powerful that fresh tears started to spill from her eyes. That alone made him hate her so much he thought he could choke on it. The fact that she could kill their classmates but still have the audacity to cry for him! To beg for his life when so many better people had already died!

Against his better judgment, he closed his eyes. He took a deep breath. He took a moment to pull his mask back together piece by piece.

When Kokichi opened his eyes again, his face was blank. He looked down at Tsumugi and told her simply, "Get out."

"You'll really…"

"Get out," he told her again, talking over her question.

Tsumugi wiped her eyes before pushing herself to her feet. She took one step away, paused, and looked at him over her shoulder. "I mean it, you know. I really do love you , Kokichi."

Kokichi couldn't care less what she loved. As soon as she was out of sight he'd jug this antidote someone and continue with his plan as intended. He was done playing into the mastermind's hand. even if his plan wasn't perfect, at least he could hurt her. Maybe enough that he could throw her off her game.

"I don't," he said simply. There were crueler things that he could say, but it was better to keep them close to his chest at this point. He needed her out and then he needed to finish setting up his plan. "I will stop you, you know."

Tsumugi smiled, though there were still tears in the corners of her eyes. "I hope so."

Kokichi didn't move until she was out of sight. He went back to his notebook, still sitting open on the floor.

"Won't live until morning, huh?" He searched around for his pen, taking the time to feel deeply, mournful over his entire situation. The moment stretched out until he was able to find and close his hands around the writing implement. Then he tossed the sorrow away, tucked away his will to live inside a box, and he got back to writing. He only had tonight to finish it and he would.

He hoped that his death was a knife in her stupid heart.