#and then you would have to wait for it to cool down before you could reassemble it and finish mowing the lawn

[phosphns]

MILAN , chris s.

🫐. you take chris around milan, enjoying a cute night in the sweet italian atmosphere.

warns. bf!chris x italian!reader | established relationship, fluff, cursing, kissing, pet names [babe, pretty], some italian sentences, flirty comments, no use of y/n

The Prada fashion show had been nothing short of breathtaking.

When Chris asked you to go with them at the show, you were beyond excited. Not just because the show would have taken place in your hometown, but also because you’d always loved fashion. You couldn’t believe you were really going to attend a Prada event, so it all felt like a dream when you actually stood in the first line, examining every outfit with heart-shaped eyes.

Chris stood beside you, his hand wrapped securely around your waist. He looked so cool in that black suit, but you could tell that he wasn’t used to this world. His brothers, Nick and Matt, were nearby, doing some comments about the designs now and then and trying to sneak pictures of the show that they would have posted later.

“You okay?” Chris leaned in close, his voice soft in your ear. The faint scent of his cologne mixed with the air of sophistication around you.

“I’m better than okay,” you replied with a smile, your Italian accent giving your english words a unique charm that he adored. “This doesn’t even feel real.”

“Yeah,” he said, his lips curving into a grin. “It’s wild, right? I didn’t think we’d actually get invited to something like this.”

You nod, your gaze not leaving the runway, too focused on the way models walked or held the precious bags.

After the show wrapped up and the crowd began to disperse, Nick and Matt said their goodbyes, leaving you and Chris alone. The night was still young, and the streets of Milan were alive with lights, laughter, and the allure of adventure

Chris took your hand, pulling you away from the crowd of paparazzi and fans surrounding the fashion show area, leading you to a quieter spot.

As soon as you were alone, you wrapped your arms around his neck, caressing the back of his head while his hands moved to your hips. “Did you enjoy it?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

You smiled, biting your lip as you looked into his eyes. You nodded. “You have no idea how much,” you said, before connecting your lips with his in a sweet kiss that expressed all your happiness and gratitude.

“Thank you,” you added after pulling away. He gave a confused little smile. “For what?” he asked, his fingers running up and down your sides in a reassuring but very sensual way.

“For giving me the chance to come,” you answered, looking up at him. It was true; you were extremely grateful to have been invited, but above all, you were proud of him. In such a short time, he had managed to get so far, doing it all on his own, with his brothers. You were thankful to be with someone like him.

He smiled sincerely, then his smile turned into a knowing smirk, and he added mischievously, “You have no idea how many more times I’ll give you that chance.” You gave him a playful tap to reprimand him.

“Can’t you be serious for five seconds?” you scolded, trying to hold back a grin. “Not when I’m around you, pretty,” he replied, making you blush.

You decided to pull away, taking his hand. “I want to show you something,” you said, stopping the first available taxi. Chris didn’t say anything, getting into the car after you and wrapping an arm around your shoulders. You leaned forward, murmuring the destination to the driver in Italian, so Chris couldn’t understand.

Once back in your seat, the dark-haired guy wasted no time asking where you were taking him. “Wait and see,” you replied simply, leaving him in suspense. He playfully huffed, but didn’t say anything else, partly because he wanted to play along, and partly because he wanted to enjoy the view outside the window: Milan by night was enchanting, whether seen through the eyes of a local or a tourist. The lights, the life, the sounds, never failed to amaze you

Finally, the taxi stopped, and after paying, you both got out. In front of you was the square, illuminated by the lights of the street lamps and the reflections from the lively bars filled with people. Some stopped for a drink, others greeted each other with laughter and chatter.

Chris looked up, his eyes widening when he saw the cathedral. Its gothic facade seemed even more impressive under the dark sky. “Holy shit,” the guy exclaimed, looking at the building in all its beauty.

“Pretty, right?” you asked, standing beside him in front of the majestic cathedral. He nodded, but after a moment, his expression shifted slightly as he turned to look you in the eyes. “It’s almost as beautiful as you,” he whispered, getting closer to you. His low voice carried a teasing tone.

You turned to look at him too, rolling your eyes playfully. “Stop being cheesy.” He laughed and shrugged. “What? It’s true,” he replied, though his tone made it clear he was just messing around. Before you could respond, he turned suddenly and looked around.

“Hey, excuse me, could you take a picture for us?” he asked a passerby, who happily agreed. You looked at Chris, confused, not understanding what he had in mind. You watched as he handed his phone to the man with the camera app open. Then he came back to you and grabbed your waist, pulling you close to him for the umpteenth time that night.

Once again, he didn’t give you time to react, pressing his lips to yours and kissing you slowly and sensually, as if in that square full of people, you were the only ones who mattered. It was just the two of you, and time seemed to slow down.

When you pulled away, you let out a chuckle. “That was definitely corny,” you whispered, our faces still close. He winked at you and took the phone back from the stranger after thanking him.

“Okay, maybe a little,” he said.

Chris gave you a soft tap before wrapping his arm around your waist and dragging you to a nearby bench. The two of you sat down, and you rested your head on his shoulder while he opened the photo app to check out the shots.

“Babe, we need to post these, you look so sexy,” he said, placing a hand on your thigh while adding the photo to his favorites. “Mhmh, sure” you replied, making him smirk, clearly proud of his choice.

“So,” he began, “teach me something in italian. You know, to make me sound cooler.”

You couldn’t hold back a smile at his silly idea, but you didn’t refuse. “Are you trying to impress the locals?” you teased him.

“Of course, I want to show off my italian skills,” he replied with an obvious, cocky tone. “Alright then,” you said, giving him an amused glance. “Sei un coglione di prima categoria, ma sfortunatamente ti amo lo stesso.”

The brunette blinked a few times, as if trying to register the sentence, which sounded so odd to him. “Wait, I caught a ‘ti amo,’ right?” he said, his expression amused but also a little curious. You looked at him, returning his usual smirk. “You only got that part,” you replied, pretending to mock him.

“I got it! Woah, I’m basically fluent now,” he exclaimed, leaning back on the bench and taking a long, satisfied breath.

“You’re ridiculous,” you laughed.

He shot you a teasing glance. “Yeah, and yet you publicly said, I quote, ti amo.”

yaps. “milano we love you” we all say in unison. ALSO requests are open, so feel free to request anything!

wc. 1.2k

[wands-natsthing]

𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐁𝐞𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐲 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬

HEYYYY HIII HELLOOOO long time I KNOW IM SORRY LSKDKD AND I KNOW I SAID THE WEEKEND BUT I GOT SICK

buttt just to give a lil info, since it has been so long since I updated I put the last bit of chapter 2 at the beginning of this just as a refresher I guess!! And more overall story info (R=23) (W=30) (N=34)

I also wrote kinda like a Wanda’s POV of what happened in the janitors closet so let me know if you want that!!

Feedback is more than welcome!! I love reading all your comments they make me feel like my writing isn’t shit 🤓 and they make me smile :)) I also tried to make this as open as possible this is for everybody!! (I hope I worded that right) I mean as in there rlly no descriptions of r

Warnings: I really don’t think there are any besides maybe it starts to seem a little homewreckery BUT ITS NOT I PROMISE!!

Word count: 1.3k

Summary: You guys come out the closet and have lunch idk

"Who's the woman standing outside the door with you?" you asked.

You can tell Wanda hadn't been expecting your question by the way her eyes widened.

"Oh um, that's Natasha, After you graduated I started teaching a co-taught English class and well she's the co-teacher." She paused before confirming the suspicion you had earlier. 

"She's also my wife���" 

Your heart dropped. 

“Your- your wife…You got married? You ask with a tremble in your voice. 

“Yeah, I did um just a few years ago…” 

“Oh- that's uh, that's cool. Um, congratulations.” 

Wanda’s smile faltered slightly as she sensed the mix of emotions swirling inside you. The joy in her eyes seemed to dim ever so slightly, replaced by a hint of concern.

“I know it’s a lot to take in,” she said quietly, her voice softening. "Maybe we could talk more about everything over Lunch?"

Your eyes snapped up at that. The thought of having lunch with her again all these years later was just too enticing to pass up, no matter how many messing feelings it brought again.

"Lunch? Are you- are you sure?" You asked with a hopeful smile on your face.

"Yes, I'm more than sure. I am positive." She reassured you with a gentle touch of her hand running up and down your forearm.

"Okay, then yes I would love to."

"great! What about this weekend at 1:00 at the cafe we saw each other last week? (a/n: Its Wednesday)

"That's perfect!"

"Okay good then it's a date." She said scrunching her nose up in a way that always made your heart melt.

Date.

"I am so sorry, but I better get back, can't leave Natasha by herself for too long with all those parents and kids out there, But I can't wait for our lunch date!"

Date. There goes that word again.

“Yes, of course, I’m sorry for keeping you for so long,” you replied, trying to shake off the rush of emotions swirling in your mind.

Wanda smiled warmly, as if she could sense the turmoil within you. “No need to apologize. It’s nice to catch up, I've missed you."

You both stood there for a moment, staring into each other's eyes. The bustling sounds from the school faded slightly as you locked eyes.

“Alright, I better get going,” she said after a pause, and you could hear the softer undertones of sadness in her voice. “But I’ll see you this weekend, okay?”

“Yeah, I’m really looking forward to it,” you replied, offering her a genuine smile.

Wanda gave you one last look, her expression revealing a mix of excitement and a hint of uncertainty before she opened the door of the janitor's closet.

You took a deep breath, calming your racing heartbeat. You had so many thoughts swirling through your head but at the same time, you felt as if you couldn't think.

As you finally turned to head out back to your car, you felt a strange sense of hope take root inside you.

You couldn’t help but replay the moment in your mind, the surprise of learning she was married mixed with the thrill of the upcoming lunch. It was complicated, but one thing was clear: you wanted to explore this. No matter how much it might hurt in the end.

The rest of the week felt like an eternity. You replayed snippets of conversations you had shared over the years, moments of laughter, and even the unspoken feelings that had lingered in the air. Each thought made the anticipation for the weekend grow stronger.

Finally, Saturday arrived. You stood in front of your mirror, carefully selecting your outfit for lunch. The end of summer's warmth lingered in the air, but a hint of fall was beginning to whisper in the breeze. You chose a lightweight mustard-yellow sweater, perfect for the transition between seasons. Its soft knit hugged your figure comfortably.

For pants, you chose a pair of high-waisted, olive-green corduroy pants that offered both warmth and style. The slightly flared legs provided a retro vibe, making them an ideal choice for early autumn. On your feet, you wore your black Converse. Always a staple in your outfits.You topped everything off with a silver chain that went slightly past your collarbone and small gold hoops that reflected off the light.

Never understood the big deal about mixing silver and gold.

And a light spritz of your favorite fall-inspired perfume, with notes of vanilla and sandalwood, completed the look, a warm scent perfect for the season.

As the clock ticked closer to 1:00, doubts and anxiety started creeping in.

What if she doesn't show?

Is my outfit bad?

Does my breath smell? You make sure to brush your teeth one more time before leaving.

When you arrived at the cafe, a wave of shyness washed over you. You spotted Wanda almost immediately. She was sitting at a cozy table, her reddish auburn hair catching the sunlight, and you wondered how someone could look both familiar and new after all this time.

You exchanged hesitant glances. The soft murmur of conversations around you felt louder than usual, amplifying the butterflies in your stomach.

As you approached, her face lit up, the warmth of her smile easing your nerves.

 “You made it!” she exclaimed, standing up to greet you with an embrace that felt both comfortable and electrifying.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” you replied, taking a seat across from her.

For a moment, the air was thick with unspoken words. Both of you are unsure what to say.

Fortunately, as if sensing the tension in the air, a waitress approached to take your order.

"I'll have a hot caramel latte and a turkey and cheese sandwich, please," Wanda said with a soft smile. You returned her smile, appreciating the familiarity of her order.

Both Wanda and the waitress turned to you, waiting to see what you'd chosen.

"I'll have the same, please. Thank you."

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

You sipped your coffee, the warmth seeping into your hands, trying to ground yourself. Slowly but surely the conversation began to flow just like how it had all those years ago.

It was as if nothing had changed. 

As if neither had gone through drastic changes.

Yet, even as the conversation deepened, the thought of her marriage lingered at the back of your mind and the fact that they worked together. Soon within a day, they both would be your coworkers.

Curiosity nudged at you, and you found yourself leaning in.

“What’s it like? Teaching together, I mean? That must be… interesting.”

Just like in the janitor's closet, she was surprised by your sudden question.

Though she laughed softly, easing the tension. “It is, we balance each other out. She’s all about structure, while I tend to go with the flow. It makes for some creative lesson plans."

Though you were more so wondering if they shared any lunches like the two of you did; 

You'll take it.

Gathering up as much composure as possible you try to sound as "mature" as you possibly can. “Sounds like a great dynamic,” you replied, picturing the two of them in a classroom full of students, bouncing ideas off each other.

"Yeah it is, we make a great team." Wanda smiled, her eyes lighting up.

 "You know, I would love for the two of you to formally meet."

Your heart raced and your mind went blank.

What the fuck?

"Wait...I'm sorry, what?"

Wanda repeated herself slowly, not sure how to take your response.

“Oh, um, really? Your wife?” You stammered, shocked from the sudden/not so sudden twist in conversation. "I mean are you- are you sure that is a good idea? You know, me being me?"

Wanda smiled at you comfortingly. "Of course, it's a good idea, I mean besides you were gonna meet her soon anyway with school starting Monday-"

She stops mid-sentence playing with the necklace adorning her neck, a telltale sign 

She's nervous.

"Natasha also already knows exactly who you are to me." 

♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎

𝐨𝐨𝐩 🤓

𝐋𝐞𝐦𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐚 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐯!!

@nebthetautora @esposadejoyhuerta @w4ndsversew0nder

@skz-xii

[eeboyysworld]

“Broken down and hungry for your love, with no way to feed it.”

—⋆. ᯓ★ ⋆.

Genre: Angst

In-ho X Male!Reader

Cautions/Warnings: Reader is lowkey evil ..beware , angst but things get a lil heated , attachment issues , guilt tripping, hurt no comfort, blood and death , Unrequited love, love bombing.

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

The bunk bed that he sat on was rather uncomfortable, feeling the metal bottom beneath him, bright white sheet crumping under his shoes.

The tacky tracksuit clinging his frame , his body filling it up.

Metal tray in one hand, stuffed with dull over cooked rice, milk in another. The white liquid swashing around the container.

He was the one who conducted the games to be like this, who was he to complain about his own doing.

Maybe he rather focus on the imperfections he missed than watching you across the room, you , who was currently messing around with some purple haired freak.

You, whose sole purpose was to ruin him, taking him apart piece by piece. Leaving him once he had absolutely nothing, only to beg you not to leave.

It was pathetic. The way he managed to become a love-sick fool under your embrace, just a touch and he’ll melt into you.

He would say that his and your souls interlinked, merging into one.But, your soul was tainted, officially marking his own demise.

You, who had let him in with open arms, wide smile and home-cooked meals.But, even after all that love, he would find himself getting pushed away from you, warm hands no longer holding him, no words of comfort.

Comfort replaced with disdain , the tone you held was harsh on him.

Ever since he won these games, he found no purpose in life.The will to hang on slowly slipping out of reach.

Until, one summer day , you appeared before him, laced with swimming trunks , open button - up shirt loosely wrapped around you. Water droplets falling down your soaked locks of hair , sunglasses sat on-top your nose.

Kindly asking him to join a round of volleyball, since you and whoever else was there were short one member.

It was random, he came to the beach on a typical afternoon. Hoping to jump in the lake and catch a cool breeze. But yet, he found you. Or, more like you found him.

Someone who could calm him down without a breeze.

He wasn’t the sports type, but after seeing you, the urge to please you had fallen into place.

Convincing himself that all he was doing was being kind, not that he just agreed because he wanted to see more of you.

After some time passed, one thing was sure of , he had fallen in love with a stranger.

He had told himself he was gonna join this game just to keep a keen eye on the man who desperately wanted to shut this place down.

Sabotaging any plan that took place.

But he looked too long across the room, his eye catching you, the small tattoo on your finger , the one you got during the teenage years, inked your skin, the one he traced each day in bed.

How could he have not seen your picture.. had he forgotten the past he shared with you. Perhaps, after-all it had been 5 years since he last saw you.

He had quite the busy life after taking over as the front-man.

Now that he caught you, looking content with yourself. Looking like you had it all under control, while he still yearned after you.

You were doing fine despite the debt you had, while he lost his mind over you.

———-

It wasn’t long before you had him under your finger.

After scanning the whole room of people out of curiosity , you had immediately noticed the man. Sitting next to another middle aged man, a young guy who claimed to be a marine along with another, a rather young women snacking on some extra bread.

The smile you held was the opposite of what you felt, jealousy flowed through you. ‘ Did he get over you that fast ‘ .

You waited all day , ignoring him, ignoring the constant glances he threw.

Waited till night-time appeared, watched as the other man politely asked to use the restroom.

Sneakily getting up, nudging the purple haired male off of you, grumbling in his sleep.

Stalking your way over to the door, giving the nicest look you had to the square headed guard, flirting your way to the back.

By the time you reached the bathroom, the man you searched for was leaned against one of the many sinks, water falling down the drain.

Taking it upon yourself to speak up, scaring the lonely man as you spoke.

“I missed you.” The other flinched , quickly looking up, eyes landing onto yours. The shock evident over his features. As you prowled your way over to him.

Still as a statue, your own body cornering his, hovering over the poor man.

He couldn’t move even if he wanted to so desperately lean towards you.Heart pounding endlessly, butterflies in his stomach like he was 16 again.

You still looked so beautiful, even as blood smeared across your face, the dried parts prickling off , every imperfection was perfect for him.

Part of you missed him, truth be told.. you only broke things off because you got bored.

Age graced the man with more beauty, soft skin glowing in the dim light.

His eyes trailed down to your lips, cracked from the being over - bitten, but still smooth.

The lips he once used to kiss, whispering ‘i love you’ into each other. Oh , how he missed it.

“ You left me all alone.” That wasn’t true, he knew that. But the way you spoke with such authority, he could only believe any little word you said.

His lips quivered, tears slowly filling up his sight, your face becoming blurry, vision blacking out as he shut his eyes closed.

Pain emitted inside his chest , every memory engraving itself into him, every little talk you guys had, big and small.

Searching for the answer on why you left.

Cooing softly, lifting his chin upwards, kissing the tears away, the saltiness reaching your taste buds. Being as gentle as you can muster.

Guiding the broken man’s head into your embrace, soothing the brown locks of fluff, slowly rocking you both back and forth.

The shirt you wore became damp, the wetness making you cringe slightly, but it didn’t matter , as long as you held him in your arms.

He kept apologizing..again , and again. The words becoming a prayer. The heaviness ached inside him no matter how much you tell him he was forgiven.

Your lips finding his cheek again, the tears still flowing out. Sluggishly moving downwards, closer and closer to his mouth.

You both stood there, the water still dripping down the drain.

All you heard was his breathing mixed with the heavy silence. All that he heard was static ringing inside his ears.

Searching his eyes for any kind of decline, yet you found none, just pools of regret swimming inside the black orbs.

No movement was made, he didn’t try to move away from you. All he did was stare at you, afraid that this was just a sick twisted dream his head would muster up.

But no, you were very much real.. here with him. Even as his sight was blurry , he knew you were still here, as the feeling of plush lips pressed against his own.

“Don’t you miss me?” His lips stuttered but no sound came out. Continuing on with your stunt, pressing yourself flush against the other.

He didn’t move for a bit, slight doubt entering you , before lips started to work with yours, enticing slow movements.

His own lips trembled, hands gripping for life onto your flesh, nails biting down.

Adjusting yourself to dig deeper into the shaky man, stroking his jaw, the skin plushy as you played with it.

It was only a few minutes before a loud knock echoed the room. The guard you had long forgotten stood there, stiff as a broad.

If you didn’t know any better you would think he was nervous.. why would he care if you were making out with a random dude. Wasn’t like they somehow knew each other.

‘Ridiculous’ removing your body away from contact, clearing your throat, solemnly walking away.

Walking away like he was nothing to you but a play thing.

Nudging the guards shoulder as you hurriedly left, successfully leaving the masked man and the man you once loved.

Said man stood there, wobbly as awkward silence followed suit after the door shut.

He wanted to reach out to you.

You had just left him here after sucking on his face. Left like you had the night you admitted you didn’t love him anymore.

Delusions kept him going, foolishly thinking you could and would one day come running back to him.

Expect you weren’t the one running , he was the one running a whole mile just for you.

———

The night went on, people snoring away like their life wasn’t on the line. Most slept carelessly, others took caution. Gi-hun’s group being one of them.

In-ho found himself touching his lips , the feeling of yours molding against him, the burn still there, waiting to be ignited.

He took the second chance to stay on guard, he knew nobody was gonna try anything. He made sure of it, he didn’t want anything bad to happen to you.

Sleep was catching up to him, eyes hazy as his weight fell onto the pole next to him.

Thoughts of you turned into dreams.

———

The next day was brutal. He should know of all people.. but the blood brought back unwanted memories, ones he forgot as time went on.

Mingle. The game were you don’t know what’s gonna happen next.

He stood next to the man who seemed to befriend him, having no clue who he truly was, as the determined man gripped his hand, waiting for the next number announced.

The number 5 flashed on the screen, the group he had rushing into an empty room. While running , he searched for you in the crowd.

There you were, running with the same young guy, the punk. You should be with someone your age ..but it didn’t still the want in his stomach.

The smile on your face was wide , the purple haired boy must of gave you some sort of drug. That only added on to his list of worries.

The last round came around. Everyone around him anxiously awaited, waiting for the number to be announced.

The number ‘2’ flashed across the big screen as the robotic voice filled the room. It was uneven, just like he planned.

He immediately got pulled away , gi-hun gripped onto his blood dried tracksuit. His legs carrying his weight across the room , worried for you.

Looking from person to person, only to find you getting ditched, that’s what it looked like to him at least.

You stood there frozen, adrenaline rushing through your whole body. The flashing lights hitting your face.

He could only watch as you got swept among the crowed of desperate people.

The room he was in coloured a bright orange, blood stained the walls and floor.

Rushing to the little peep hole, not caring for the other man’s glance of confusion.

Rapidly searching for you, looking for the number you wore.

His heart could break in half from the pressure.

The guard showed no mercy towards you despite the constant reminder he said to not kill you.

Dreed filled him. Watched as you got thrown to the ground, the masked men playing around with you. Were they targeting you on purpose.

Had the square headed guard told the others about what happened last night.

He loved you so much it hurt. Sickness could be felt pooling inside him.

He could only watch the scene in-front of him , blood dripped down the side of your head , the wide gash evident.

One of the men was searching through the room, before suddenly locking onto his door number.

Gripping your broken body, waltzing towards him.

His eyes scanned the blood adorning your face, you still looked perfect to him. Your eyes barely opened, the glint in them no longer there.

He couldn’t speak. He would be revealed if he said anything at all. All this work would be for nothing.

The man proceeded to lean towards the open hole, whispering so only he could hear.

“Just doing my job sir..He was left outside.”

He found himself slamming his head against the door , he already went crazy during the last game, who cares anymore.

He couldn’t watch this, all he heard was your voice speaking out in a gruff manner.

“I’ll.. love you- in the next life.”

Before the unmistakable gun shot rang throughout the empty room. Silence followed, before the sound of leather boots walked away.

It was quiet, he forgotten about the other presence in the room.

Your last moments were decided for you.

A hand rested on his shoulder, rubbing him repeatedly. It felt like a sin to have anyone touch him beside you.

All he could do now ,while stuck with the other man , was to hide his head towards the door. Hiding the tears silently falling down , digging his teeth into his lips to stop the sobs.

You said you’ll love him in the next life. But , why couldn’t it be this one?

ᯓ★

My bad for angst ..do you still think im sexy aha🤗❕

Thank you guys for the support!!🩷

[practicalgauntlet]

Alexithymia

(n.) Inability to describe emotions verbally

PART TWO

Synopsis- You can't get what happened out of your head and now Spencer is acting weird.

Category- Fluff

Notes- Tension, mutual pining, short one-shot, confessions without words, last part, still don't believe in Dom!Spencer, soft-core flirting, no smut, at least not for this one-shot, no use of Y/N or the appearance/gender identity for the reader, I'm OBSESSED with Spencer in the early seasons (1-6).

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

It had been three weeks since Spencer caressed your cheek, the echo of his touch still plaguing your dreams. At one point, the week and a half mark, you would wake up at the crack of dawn with images of gentle touches and bright smiles.

There is one thing though, that has set your teeth on edge more than the lingering thoughts and desperate yearning that has taken hold of you. Spencer was different. No longer was he the bashful genius you fell for. Now, instead of shying away from you, it seemed as if he was determined to be as close as socially acceptable.

A hand on the small of your back, the back of his knuckles brushing against yours as he walked alongside you, his shoulder pressed against yours as he sat next to you at the bar. Every time the two of you were in the same room, he was glued to your side. And to make matters worse (better?) you found yourself doing the same exact thing.

If he didn't automatically greet you when you entered the bullpen, you were walking up to him with a face-stretching smile, if he wasn't immediately at your side on the jet, you were taking the seat right next to him. Despite the newfound closeness you and Spencer had fallen into, it wasn't quite as intimate as that night on the jet.

"What are you thinking about?" Spencer asked, his chin on his hand as his elbow rested on his desk.

You hadn't realized you had zoned out, too burnt out on paperwork to properly think anymore. "I think I just need a break." You say with a sigh, leaning back in your chair to pop your back and stretch your shoulders.

Spencer hummed, never once taking his eyes off you. For a split second, you could have sworn his eyes darted to the exposed sliver of skin that was revealed when your shirt rode up. But that flicker of something was gone so fast you figured you imagined it.

"I can help with that."

Spencer stands and holds his hand out to you. You take it, relishing in the way his soft hands slotted with yours, your callouses from the government-issued gun matched his. In that moment you could think about anything else other than how perfectly he fit with you.

Spencer led you through headquarters, pulling you down the hallway and into the breakroom. You said nothing as you curiously watched him gather some snacks and two bottles of water, content to wait until he revealed his plans.

You were pulled into an elevator and then up a flight of stairs until you were staining alone with Spencer on the roof of the building. The cool spring air was cold enough to keep you from overheating when Spencer looked over his shoulder and sent you the most brilliant smile you'd ever seen.

Finally done with the suspense, though you suppose you were weak enough to let him lead you across the world without a word, you speak up. "What are we doing, Spence?" You couldn't help the laughter that laced your words, too excited, happy, and infatuated to do anything else.

"Do you trust me?"

"Of course, I do. What kind of question is that?"

"Then just let me take care of you."

That shut you up real quick. Spencer let go of your hand in favor of walking further onto the roof. He squatted down, placing the snacks and water on the ground before waving you over. You obliged, bending down to sit next to him.

"Wait!" He says suddenly, stopping you mid-bend. Before you can question him, he shucks off his blazer and lays it beside him. With a pat, he motions you to sit. "There."

"I can't sit on your jacket, you need it."

"Just sit, please?"

You roll your eyes, the action only done to stop yourself from shouting from the rooftop that you were completely and undeniably in love with this man. "Okay."

Once you were sat down, Spencer pulled something out of his pocket. It was a small, blue MP3 player wrapped up in earbuds. He untangles the wires and turns on the devices, clicking down a list before he settles on a song. With one earbud in his ear, he holds the other out to you.

"Spencer..." You were speechless. Not only did he remember your preferred method of decompression, but he also curated an environment for you to do so. To say you were head over heels was an understatement.

"Don't talk, just listen."

You lay down, Spencer following suit with his arms crossed behind his head, and tune into the melody that started playing.

It was a song you knew from the first beat. An old song, something your grandmother listened to all the time. It started slow, with Elvis's deep voice starting the beginning verse.

Did he know that this was one of the most famous love songs ever written? Of course he did, he's a very smart man, and the lyrics were tooth rottingly sweet. But did he know the connotation of sharing a song like this with someone? Knowing Spencer, probably not.

Spencer meant for you to relax, to take a break from the pile of paperwork on your desk, not spiral into a void of overthinking. You couldn't help it though. Your gut told you that Spencer was trying to tell you something, with the touches and the glances and the eye contact. This should have been the nail in the coffin for your theory. But why would someone as unique and extraordinary as him, reciprocate the feelings of someone so mundane and ordinary in comparison?

A weight on your hand draws you out of your reverie, pulling your attention to the soft touch of Spencer. You turn to him, only to find him already looking at you. The heavy emotion in his gaze floored you, swirling pools of admiration and affection that made his sparkling brown eyes so much deeper- so much more intense.

You were shoulder to shoulder, the soft midday breeze cooling your rapidly heating cheeks. The two of you say nothing, only staring at each other with unending affection. Elvis's voice fades into a lovely classical number and Spencer turns on his side and props himself up on his elbow. He was leaning over you now, his eyes flickering back and forth from your lips to your eyes and back again.

You were frozen to the spot, unable to move for fear of disrupting the very real feeling daydream. But the warmth of Spencer as he leaned in ever so slowly- as if he were giving you time to pull away- reminded you that this was reality and not a figment of your imagination.

"Is this okay?" He whispers, lips a hair's breadth from your awaiting lips.

Instead of responding with words, you grab the collar of his shirt with shaky hands and pull him to you. His lips were as soft and inviting as you imagined them to be. Spencer was still for a second, the two of you not moving an inch, but after the brief surprise bled into excitement, he wrapped a hand around your waist and pulled you closer.

He angled his head to the side, allowing his lips to slot against yours like they were made for each other. Your hands found solace on his shoulders, gripping them for dear life as the two of you part for air.

Spencer leaned his forehead against yours, breath erratic as he let out a disbelieving chuckle. You drew your hand up, tracing his shoulder and neck until you were cradling his cheek. You couldn't find the words to express how you felt in that moment, too caught up in everything that was Spencer.

You pull him back to you, wrapping your arms around him and tangling your fingers in his hair. Spencer let out a soft groan, meeting your lips with equal fervor. You were pressed tighter against him, like Spencer couldn't get close enough to you.

It felt like you were floating, your body weightless and heavy all at the same time. Your skin was burning from where he touched you, blazing trails drawing patterns across your waist and back. Every time one of you pulled back, the other only allowed a breath or two before you were joined again.

"I can't believe this..." Spencer murmured against your lips like he was too afraid to part for even a second.

"Believe what?" Just so you could pull air into your lungs, you parted and pressed your forehead against his.

"That you like me back."

"How could I not like you back?"

Spencer's eyes went from firey and passionate to vulnerable in a split second. You hated that he had such low self-esteem when it came to love and attraction. Instead of allowing him to stew on whatever ridiculous reasons his harsh brain could come up with, you lean in and kiss his worries away.

[blue-arkhamknight]

Omg hiiii you seem cool ! And I’ve had this Jason Todd idea in my head for a bit so

What if the reader is basically his nurse he comes to her for every little cut to actual serious injuries

And this is normal but one night when he stops by to have her help with something small he realizes she sick ,fever ,chills the works and she’s stubborn but he wants to help his nurse

Just some good hurt comfort ,kinda the tables have turned

This could also totally be written as gender neutral reader instead of fem

Have a good day !

Tysm!! I actually love this idea. I have delivered (not too much well though) . Thank you for requesting and have a good day too!

Images do not belong to me and I am not a doctor or a nurse! This is all with my Dr. Mike knowledge.

I changed it a bit sorry 😿

Chicken Soup and Netflix.

Warnings: Sick reader and some deep brief detail about the sickness.

── .✦

── .★

Jason is… a bit odd to say the least. Very tall and muscular with the peculiar trait to have his face scrunched up in the waiting room of one of Gotham’s hospitals. You might ask, well what’s Jason doing there? Simple, he got a cut. Slicing some apples that his lazy brother Dick didn’t want to slice himself.

But he didn’t go there to see any nurse that could quickly attend him. No, that’d be too easy! Might as well just buy a simple bandaid and stick it on his finger then call it a day, which he absolutely can. He just doesn’t want to. This time and like any other time he went to that hospital (which was all the time) he asked for the same specific nurse. You.

“Alright, Jason. To what do I have the pleasure of seeing you for the sixth time in four days?” you questioned as you finally attended Jason. He still glared at you because for his logic, you took too long in attending him. Reality was that you were just working on a patient that was going to get a CT scan, after all, patients should be hydrated before the scans… And you were not feeling well in all honesty. Of course, Jason noticed your held in sneezes and cold shivers, but he didn’t say anything for now, fearing he would be wrong and make a fool of himself.

He held up his left index finger, showing the small cut on full display. “I cut myself.” he explained dryly as you stared at him like he was the dumbest person on Earth. You silently sighed, at the sight of his dumb cut, but also because you felt like absolute crap. “You do know about the existence of bandaids, right?” you said as you pulled out a box of them after you questioned him on how the cut occurred like with any patient. There was no need for an experienced doctor here and waste their time like you were wasting yours, even if you felt the slightest pang of something by Jason’s often demands to be attended by you out of everyone on the field.

“This is very serious! It could get infected and I need medical assistance.” he quickly defended himself. He was cradling his finger as if it would fall off. Your eyes looked at the tiny cut while you held in that very annoyed eye roll. Once you had ‘cured’ him as he called it, he stopped with the frowns. He was indeed sad that it was quick, but hey. It’s a win situation for him because got to see your face!

“Achoo!”. What? Jason’s head immediately whipped from where he was standing at the door to behind him. His hand dropped from the door knob and moved his body to face you. “…Are you sick?” he asked with his normal stoic voice, though his face was the smallest bit softer than usual. “What- no, no, no!” you rapidly declined with a very, very stubborn frown, though you were wrong. So wrong. Chills, shivers, fever, and held in coughs and sneezes.

How had he not noticed?! You looked awful and he hadn’t helped! “Sit down.” he said, though it sounded much more harsher than he intended it to be and what made it sound like a command when it wasn’t. Which rightfully so, it earned a deeper frown and a scoff from you. Truly, he was as stoic as a rock, but of course that didn’t stop the pang on his heart. The one that screamed at him ‘Stop being a nuisance and help!’, but shhh shhhh! He needs to be nonchalant, guys! Though he was always welcomed to be as chalant as he wanted.

────

After lots and lots and lots and lots of talking he finally did it. Jason convinced you to leave work and call in sick. With of course the very logical excuse that a nurse shouldn’t go to work ill, they will get sick other patients and potentially making them feel worse. Guilt tripping much, but you had to admit. The guy had a very good point.

Conveniently, Jason got to be your ride home. Again, he reasoned that you shouldn’t go on the bus and risk getting people sick. “But what about you, smart ass?” you asked sarcastically, though your words held deep inside concern of getting sick this regular patient with whom you’ve had deep talks like good friends. It all held its own deep meaning nonetheless, the glances he stole, the scoffs, the frowns, the eye rolls, and the effort he put into seeing you at the hospital. Every small injury he got, intentional or not, was an excuse to see you.

“You’ve helped me enough. Let me be of use this time.” he said as his motorcycle came to a stop. Jason hopped out first, carefully taking your hand and helping you get down. Though before you could say thank you, or huff at him, you quickly had to cover your mouth and sneeze, making you sigh and disinfect your hands so you could later wash them. You groaned at the cold, violently shivering while you walked up to your apartment complex. Jason trailed behind you in deep thought. Suddenly there was a welcoming warmth around your shoulders, a brown jacket.

If Jason could admit, it was definitely freezing. He had taken off his own jacket for your own safety. Not wanting your state to get any worse and as much as he doesn’t want to admit, he absolutely despises the horrible condition you are in. He doesn’t like it. Not the paleness, the shivering, the sneezes, the disgusting phlegm sounding coughs, and the eye bags. In conclusion? He had the case of being utterly worried and hiding it behind a stoic mask.

Clearly his jacket was welcomed since you didn’t give any sign of protest, other than huff. Even if you still didn’t want to admit it you were sick as hell and he was going to leave you alone. After all, you had helped him too many damn times with the dumbest stuff. As you both made it through the complex he saw an elevator and quickly guided you to it. “Number.” he said gruffly, leaving you confused, “Number?…” you repeated as a question. He grumbled looking at you, “Floor number.” Jason specified, making you mentally go: ‘Ohhhhh.’. “Right- Sixth floor.” you said looking at him as he gave a nod and pressed the elevator button with the number six on it.

Shortly you went into a coughing fit, covering your mouth. Jason took a notice, his hand snaking to your back and slightly patting your back. He could feel the violent shivers. Once the elevator opened and he made sure you stopped coughing, he gently pushed you off the floor elevator and trailed behind. You started walking towards your apartment. Opening the door you turned to him.

“…You can.. uh come in if you want.” you muttered, your voice getting hoarser by the time. Jason, still internally concerned gave a nod waiting for you to get inside. “How’s your finger? Still lethal?” you asked as you stepped inside, trying to loosen the tense air. He shrugged, looking at his index finger that wore the smallest bandage, “…I suppose I can last a few more hours.” he said following your tone. A hum escaped your throat, “Maybe you need some IV’s.” you said as he stepped behind you and closed the door, getting a “Definitely.” from him.

You settled down your stuff, crashing down in the couch and thats all Jason needed. He looked around and walked to the kitchen, looking for stuff to at least make a soup for you. Surprisingly he isn’t a bad cook. Grabbing the necessary ingredients to make a simple chicken soup. You looked at him from the couch, eyes lidded with exhaustion and a twinge of guilt.

“You don’t have to cook you kn-“ you spoke up, getting cut off by a stern stare of him making your sentence die down. He opened a cabinet after another, stopping when he found medicine, reading each of the labels until he saw one that was needed for your symptoms. He finished cooking the soup and poured it into a bowl and set it aside to cool down a bit. Jason then opened your fridge to grab a water bottle. His steps echoed through the silent apartment.

He stopped in front of you, handing you the bottle of water and the medicine, fixing his jacket so it covered you and kept you warm and sat you up. “Thanks…” you mumbled and took them as you sat up with his help on the couch. Jason gave another nod, “Yeah no problem.” he answered. He walked again to the kitchen and grabbed the soup bowl, a spoon and went to sit next to you. Gently, he handed you the bowl and looked around. Seeing this you gave him the TV control and he gladly took it.

Jason played a random movie in your Netflix account as you ate slowly the soup he had carefully made, his jacket around you. Your legs were in a butterfly position on the couch and slowly leaned your head on his shoulder while you kept eating the soup. Then there was a weight on your own head and another around your shoulders, his thumb rubbing against your shoulder. “Guess who’s the nurse now?” he teased, making you roll your eyes, but at last, it was nice to be taken care of instead to take care of.

──── ⋆˚✿˖° ────

──── ⋆˚✿˖° ────

SORRY IF THIS WAS BAD!! English isn’t my first language, but I’m trying to be better at writing!! Hope you liked it a little bit.

[jareaul0ver]

I love you, I'm Sorry

wc: 978 warnings: angsty but a happy ending! pairings: nika muhl x fem!reader

A/N: omg im actually posting?? don't get used to this i go back to school soon and probably wont post anything til either spring break or the summer

Two Years Ago

You were pacing around your apartment, waiting for Nika to come over like she said she would.

Nika's been your unofficial girlfriend for a while, but you never put a label on what you had.

But she was leaving for the W soon, and you either wanted all or nothing with her.

A few minutes into your pacing, there was a knock on the door. You walked over and opened it, seeing Nika's smiling face. "You wanted to talk?" She said.

You nodded and invited her in. "Do you want anything to drink? Coffee or tea?"

Nika shook her head and sat down on your couch. "I'm okay, thank you."

A small sigh left your body as you went over and sat down, leaving a bit of space between the two of you just in case everything went south.

"What's this about?" She asked cautiously.

You took a deep breath and leaned back into the couch a little. "You're leaving soon, and-"

"That doesn't mean this has to end, if that's where you're going with this," Nika interjected.

A small frustrated sigh left your lips. "What even is this, Nika? Are we girlfriends? Or just casually fucking?" She stayed silent and you just scoffed. "It's your choice, either we put a label on this, or I'm done."

The last thing Nika wanted was to completely lose you, but she didn't like the ultimatum you were giving her. "That's not fair, I need to focus on basketball-"

"And just lead me on the whole time? Have me thinking we could be something more, even though we never will be?" You tried to keep your voice steady, but it was getting difficult.

She sighed and stood up. "I- I'm sorry, but I can't do this," she said before grabbing her things and walking to the door.

You stood up and watched her. She was so ready to leave, no hesitation. "So that's it then? You're just leaving?"

Nika's jaw twitched and she stared at you for a moment. "I"m sorry," she mumbled before opening the door and leaving, letting it close behind her.

You forced your eyes away from the door and looked out the window, watching the May atmosphere warming up the world, but it felt so cold in your apartment without Nika.

It hadn't been that long since Nika left for the W, and everyone already loved her. She charmed everyone she met, other players, fans, the media.

It's like she trained herself, got lessons on how to be a people person. She never was before. She was always polite, but kept to herself.

Except around you. You always were able to break down her walls and see what was really going on with her, how she really was.

But now you see this people pleaser on TV and social media, and all you can do is complain to your friends about it.

Two Summers from Now

After a while, you had managed to get over Nika. Well, more so over what happened with her.

You'd always have a soft spot for the girl, she saw you and supported you at your worst, and you could never stop loving her because of it.

It was ironic. You were about to head out to Seattle to visit some friends, and Nika was about to get on a plane back to Storrs to see her friends.

At this moment, you broke no contact with her. You sent her a text, hoping she didn't have you blocked, or that she didn't change her number.

You were a little surprised to see an answer from her short after you sent the message. The two of you ended up talking about life, realizing that just maybe, you could be cool with her.

She gave you some advice about Seattle, and you let her know how excited the other UConn girls would be to see her again.

The next few days went by in a blur. You were in Seattle, taking in the scenery, leaning out the window of your hotel and having a drink.

I love you, I'm Sorry

You were still in Seattle. You didn't realize that Nika had messaged your friends, asking what hotel you were at and your room number.

She came back early, and she wanted needed to see you before you left. She wanted to attempt to fix things.

Nika's feelings for you never left. She knew that she reacted badly when you told her what you wanted, and she wasn't sure that she could forgive herself for walking away so easily.

But she at least needed you to know that she still loved you.

At about 10pm that night, there was a knock on your hotel door. You looked over in confusion before getting up from your bed and walking over.

You opened the door, and it was like everything from the past few years came flooding back. "Nika?" You invited her inside. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to say sorry for everything. For the way I reacted back then, I was a dick about it, and you didn't deserver any of it," she said.

You were speechless, so she took it as her que to keep going. "I was the worst, and every time I go for a drive I think about the ones we used to take to clear our heads. I swear, it haunts me-" She cleared her through.

"Nika-" You said, but she cut you off.

"I still love you, I'm sorry." The words fell from her lips so effortlessly, you couldn't help but want to give in and see where it led.

So you did. You caved and rushed up to her, pressing your lips against hers.

It lasted for a few seconds before you rested your forehead against hers. "I love you, and I'm sorry, too."

[myonexox]

I NEED YOU

pairing : boyfriend!riki x female!reader

the muffled voices of your parents’ argument leaked through the thin walls of your room, growing louder with every passing second. they were fighting, again. you pressed your hands harder against your headphones, hoping the music would drown out their voices but it wasn’t working. you couldn’t make out what they were saying but it didn’t matter. the tone was enough to make your chest tighten and your eyes sting.

you were curled up on your bed, knees pulled to your chest with a blanket wrapped tightly around you. your cheeks were damp with tears and no matter how many times you wiped them away, they kept coming. hot, silent, endless.

your phone lay beside you, the screen glowing faintly in the dim light. you stared at it, the thought of reaching out to someone clawing at the edges of your mind. your fingers trembled as you picked it up, hesitating before opening the chat with him, riki, your boyfriend.

you: riki, can we meet? i can’t stay here anymore

the message hung there, delivered but not yet read. you bit your lip, anxiety curling in your stomach as you waited. each second felt like an eternity. finally, the little bubble indicating he was typing appeared.

riki: where are you?

you: home

riki: can you go out?

your heart raced as you read his reply. you couldn't let your parents find out. no, they wouldn't allow you to go out so late at night. so you had no choice but to sneak out. sneaking out wasn’t something you usually did but tonight, the thought of staying in your room, in this house filled with arguments and tension was unbearable. you took a deep breath and typed back.

you: i’ll meet you at the park

riki: on my way. be careful

you set your phone down and stared at the window. the night was dark, the faint glow of the streetlights casting shadows on your bedroom walls. you pulled the blanket off and stood. quietly, you moved to the window, pushing it open just enough to let the cool night air rush in.

climbing out wasn’t easy. the sill was narrow and your hands fumbled as you tried to grip it. but desperation gave you courage and soon you were on the other side, your feet landing softly on the grass below. the world outside was silent, a stark contrast to the chaos inside.

pulling your hoodie tighter around you, you started walking. when you reached the park, you spotted riki sitting on a bench. he looked up as you approached, his expression softening when he saw you.

“hey” he said, standing and walking toward you. his hands found yours, his touch warm despite the chill in the air. “are you okay?”

the question undid you. the tears you thought you had cried out came rushing back and before you knew it, you were sobbing into his chest. he wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly as you broke down.

“i… i couldn’t stay” you managed between sobs. “they were yelling again and i just… i couldn’t take it anymore”

“shh” he murmured, his hand gently stroking your hair. “it’s okay. you’re here now. i’ve got you”

for a while, neither of you said anything. he just held you, his presence grounding you in a way nothing else could. when your breathing finally steadied, you pulled back slightly, looking up at him.

“thank you for coming” you said.

he smiled, brushing a tear from your cheek with his thumb. “you don’t have to thank me. i’d come running anytime you need me. you know that”

you nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “i know”

he led you to the bench and the two of you sat down.

“do you want to talk about it?” he asked, his voice gentle.

you hesitated. part of you didn’t want to relive the night but another part of you knew you needed to let it out. “they’ve been fighting a lot lately” you said finally. “it’s like they’re always angry at each other. i don’t even remember the last time the house felt… peaceful”

he listened quietly, his gaze fixed on you.

“i feel like i’m stuck” you continued, your voice trembling. “like there’s nothing i can do to make it better. and it hurts, riki. it hurts so much”

“you don’t have to fix it” he said. “it’s not your responsibility. all you need to do is take care of yourself. and i’ll be here to help you with that. okay?”

“okay” you said, giving him a small smile.

he smiled, his grip on your hand tightening briefly before he let go and wrapped an arm around your shoulders instead. “come on” he said, tilting his head toward the swings. “let’s do something to get your mind off things”

you raised an eyebrow. “like what?”

“like swinging” he said, standing and pulling you up with him. “trust me it’ll help”

you couldn’t help but laugh. “you’re serious?”

“dead serious” he said, grinning. “come on”

you followed him to the swings.

as the swings slowed to a gentle sway, you and riki stayed seated, the cool night air wrapping around you like a comforting blanket.

“do you feel a little better now?” he asked, glancing at you from the corner of his eye.

you nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “yeah. thanks for this, riki. i really needed it”

he grinned, leaning back slightly on his swing. “anytime. you know i’m always here for you, right?”

“i know” you said softly, your fingers tracing the cold metal chain of the swing. “and i appreciate it more than you know”

[angellic4l]

don’t hate the player - d.m

massive thank you’s to @esote-rika @wheresmacoffee @notlongtolove @floraisunwell @mggslover my absolute angels!!!

content: flirty!derek, fem!bau!reader, angst!!, they fight sort of, reader hates morgan (i promise there’s a point to this) mentions of sex but no one does anything, swearing, alcohol consumption, reader wears a dress and heels

wc: 2.5k

a/n: i see basically no derek fics unless its smut (i dont read that) so i’m showing him some love!! i will continue with spencer fics im just stressing trying to write my ideas for him. kisses!!!

One of the girls’ playlists was blaring in the big bedroom, ‘Cool For The Summer’ reverberating off of the creme walls as each of you were primping and priming yourselves. Hair tools plugged in and on, makeup bags half empty with their contents spread throughout the room, and mirrors almost everywhere.

The night had been planned weeks in advance, and you were lucky enough to get the whole day off instead of having to use a sick day. It was one of your friends’ 27th birthday, and the first time you’d been out with your friends for a while, so all of you were buzzing with excitement.

She wanted to go to a jazz club, to ‘experience that ‘20s aesthetic’, in her words. You absolutely couldn’t wait to be celebrating your friend in a jazz bar, imagining soulful music as the soundtrack to your night, espresso martinis, and just having fun with your friends while you got ready.

Once done fixing your hair, you turned off the curler and unplugged it, setting it back on the heat proof mat before grabbing your hung up dress from the top of a door. You changed in the bathroom, stepping into the dress so as not to mess up your hair. It was the perfect mix of elegant yet sexy, form-fitting in the right places, but not too much skin on show to be deemed inappropriate.

After taking photos with and of the birthday girl, and then a group photo of you all on a polaroid camera, a taxi was ordered to the house. Excitement gathered in your stomach, the realisation that you were actually going out for the first time in forever, to celebrate one of your closest friends’ birthday no less, setting in and making you feel giddy.

As you all walked into the jazz club, you were greeted with a dimly lit room, illuminated with orange lighting to give it that cozy, intimate atmosphere. Red brick walls, decorated with vinyls, paintings, and wall lamps, were lined with brown leather booths. The sweet symphony of the saxophone softly sailed through the place before settling in your ears.

For the first time in a while, you felt alive, truly alive. Of course, working in high stake situations, apprehending some of the worst criminals known to man, and acting in life or death situations constantly fills you with adrenaline. That would be considered as feeling alive by most people, but it isn’t.

In this moment, you felt electric. You were on a high, not because of adrenaline, but because of pure euphoria. The atmosphere was welcoming, intimate, and so full of passion. You and your friends were all sat around a table sharing anecdotes, laughing, drinking, and just having fun. There was nothing to worry about, no nerves about a phone call from Hotch, no having to filter what you say.

It was pure bliss, everything you’d been missing for a while, and you felt like nothing and no one could bring you down from this peak.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Being so in the moment with your friends, enjoying good gossip and reminiscing on your uni days together, meant that you weren’t really checking the time, nor did you care to. Subconsciously though, you figured it had been at least an hour since you’d arrived; 12 five minute songs had been performed, give or take.

Everyone was taking turns buying rounds, the group had agreed on it before the night. It was your turn to buy everyone’s drinks now. The bar was popular, but it wasn’t packed like a club was, and for that you were thankful. Carrying a tray of drinks back to the table, in heels no less, would’ve been a nightmare.

Standing at the deep brown, oak bar, waiting for the drinks, you watch your friends laughing and giggling. The contentment you felt still hadn’t gone away, coursing through your body as if it were inside every red blood cell, depositing this gleeful energy with each pump of your heart. A few moments pass before you turn your attention back to the bar, leaning on it ever so slightly, observing how the drinks are made.

Suddenly, you feel a presence to the side of you, but you figure it’s just another patron buying a drink. Then, there’s a voice. An all too familiar voice that seems to not only pull you down from your euphoric high, but plummet you deep into the depths of anger, too.

“Pretty girl, fancy seeing you here,” he almost sings and you can hear the arrogant smirk on his face without even turning to face him.

“Morgan. Please, for the love of all things good, do not talk to me,” you try to remain as civil as possible, he hasn’t actually done anything yet, and you’re not horrible.

Derek raises his hands in some mock surrender, but his smirk never wavers. Sometimes you wondered what it would be like to humble him, wipe that smirk off of his face, and bring his ego down a few notches. Immensely gratifying, you’d decided a while ago.

To put it simply, Derek Morgan was everything you hated about men in today’s society. He was a cocky, arrogant, bastard with little to no regard for people’s feelings. And the worst thing? He talked about women as if they were conquests, notches in his bedpost, trophies for his fucking shelf. It pissed you off to no end, how he could act like the women he ‘dated’ or slept with weren’t real people who deserved basic human decency.

But, you worked with him, day in and day out, and you weren’t about to lose your job over someone as insufferable as him. Besides, as much as you could hate his self proclaimed ‘CasaNova’ ways, he was damn good at his job, and he hadn’t done anything to you directly. He was fully unaware of the stance you’d taken against him, and he hadn’t done anything to require you airing out your grievances. Yet.

A long suffering sigh escapes your gloss coated lips as you come to terms with these facts, realising you can’t be hostile to your coworker, even if you’re not at work, because he doesn’t even know you have a problem with him.

“Look, Morgan, I’m sorry for that, but I’m here with my friends, celebrating, and I want absolutely nothing to do with work right now,” you murmur, still leaning across the bar.

“Look, mama, I get it. Jus’ didn’t wanna be rude, that’s all,” his tone is soft, softer than you’ve ever heard Morgan speak, and it’s filled with understanding. To say you’re shocked would be an understatement.

The pair of you exchange small smiles, a fleeting farewell, before he grabs his drink and leaves. Maybe you’ve misunderstood him, even if you don’t agree with what he stands for, and maybe you’ve been too impulsive with your initial judgements. Derek Morgan is a dick, but maybe he isn’t always a dick.

Drinks are passed around the table, manicured hands grabbing at various coloured liquids in different shaped glasses. Euphoria is long gone after your interaction with Derek, no longer on that high of serenity but in a sea of uncertainty. You won’t let yourself be a Debby downer on your friend’s birthday, though. Being a profiler means knowing all of your own tells, so you mask them well, putting up a front of glee until it isn’t fake anymore.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Jazz music speaks to the soul, transcending all borders, dimensions, and whatever the hell else Reid talks about, to reach the quintessence of your being. Rhythmic notes reach deep until they’re at the core of you, becoming a balm to the very essence of yourself.

Being surrounded by something so passionate and deep works quickly to heighten your mood once more. The sea of uncertainty parts for serenity’s peak, the fake smile becoming real, and the way Derek’s surprising attitude had shifted your mood is washed away.

Out of nowhere, a server comes over to the table with a tray full of everyone’s exact orders, seemingly confident about the table number. She smiles at you, but your brow furrows with confusion.

“Oh, these can’t be for us, I just bought drinks,” you explain, confusion painting your face even more, bottom lip jutted out ever so slightly and a small wrinkle in between your eyebrows.

“No, no, they are! That guy over there just ordered them all for you. Don’t worry, he didn’t touch them, just bought ‘em,” the server explains, pointing to none other than Derek Morgan, sitting at the bar.

All of the girls’ heads whip over to look in his direction, finding the man sitting on a bar stool next to his friends, but his attention isn’t on any of the guys. Instead, his gaze is on you, a soft smile playing at his lips, watching expectantly. For what, you don’t know, but it seems shady. If you know anything about Derek, it’s that he doesn’t do things that don’t benefit him directly. God, it’s almost too predictable, sending drinks to a table of pretty girls, hoping to luck out and get some.

Clearly, your own friends don’t share the same sentiment, because there’s a chorus of ‘awh’s once they recognise him as Derek. None of them have met him before, but they’ve seen pictures, having stalked each of the BAU members after your transfer request had been accepted.

The birthday girl says your name, almost as if you’d personally offended her, while hitting your arm lightly. For a moment, you’re afraid Derek sending you all drinks genuinely did offend her, but she’s speaking before the worry takes root.

“You didn’t tell us he was hot! My god, look at those muscles,” she raves, rolling her bottom lip beneath her teeth while staring at him past your head.

“Hot? You’re kidding, right? He’s awful.”

“He just bought us all drinks! That’s not awful, that’s lovely.”

“No, but he’s not actually like that. It’s just a ploy!”

“Not everyone has ulterior motives. I think you’re letting all that crime stuff get to your head.”

“You don’t see him like I see him, he’s really no-“ she cuts you off.

“Can I go for it? Am I his type?”

You actually have to bite back a scoff at that, because anyone that breathes is basically Derek Morgan’s type. He’s not good enough for your friend, not for any of them, but you know her well enough to see that she won’t listen to a bad word you say against him now. Truthfully, you’re resigned, you don’t care, it’s her choice. If she wants to make the bed and share it with him, she can lie in it, too.

“You’re stunning, of course you’re his type. Be my guest,” and the second the words are out of your mouth, she’s walking over to him like a lioness about to pounce on her prey.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

For the rest of the girls, two drinks becomes four, then shots, and before they know it they’re slurring their words, no longer making any sense. Of course, you’d come out tonight to celebrate your friend’s birthday, to have fun and let loose, but you also know that at least one of you needs to be somewhat sober.

Not to say you’re entirely sober, because your inhibitions are definitely a little loose, but it’s the kind of drunk that reduces your filter and boosts your confidence. You’re still in full control of yourself, just maybe not your mouth. Or your bladder’s strength, ever since you broke your seal.

Walking back from the bathrooms through a larger crowd than there was before isn’t too difficult, but the singer on stage now is semi-famous in the jazz world, so people are treating the bar like a concert, standing in your way. Succeeding in your mission to get through the crowd, your speed picks up once you’re in the clear, the clack of your heels becoming more frequent.

In your rush back to your friends, you aren’t properly taking in your surroundings, gaze trained on the table to ensure they’re all alright. Thus, you’re quickly met with something hard, prompting your foot to slip, and you stumble backwards.

A large hand reaches out quickly, grabbing your hip to stabilise you and resting there to make sure you’re alright.

“Watch your step, pretty girl,” the hand says and you know the voice too well, the nickname slipping off of his tongue like it’s nothing, and suddenly your eyes are on Derek Morgan’s face once more.

How fucking embarrassing.

“Oh gosh, ‘m so sorry, I didn’t even realise,” you rush out, not even thinking about the fact that the man you have a massive issue with has his hand on your hip still.

“Don’t apologise. You can push up on me anytime you want to, sweet thing,” his voice is smooth, tone suggestive, and the smirk on his face is one you’ve seen plenty of times before. When he’s talking to pretty female police officers on a case, after he gets a girl’s number, when he’s talking about his rendezvous to Rossi at work. The fact that it’s being directed at you makes you feel a bit sick, to be honest, and it’s definitely not the martinis.

Any and all uncertainty you had about Derek Morgan’s character is gone in a flash, as is the serenity, and is instead replaced by an overwhelming fire of rage because he is exactly what you thought he was. He’s a pig, a disgusting one at that, and no small one off conversation, or him buying your friends drinks, or how good he is with kids, or how great he is at the job will ever change that in your eyes.

While the alcohol may not be making you feel sick, it’s definitely doing a whole lot for this rage, feeding the flames and giving you the confidence to finally give Morgan a piece of your mind. However, you still have some semblance of self control and so, you hold back a little, but not completely.

“As if, Morgan.”

“Pretty girl, you don’t gotta play hard to get.”

His arrogance drips from every word that leaves his mouth, seeping from his pores like sap from a tree. The fact he genuinely believes that you aren’t saying no, is so full of himself he believes your dismissal is you ‘playing hard to get’ enrages you even more, fueling the fire of your rage for the last time. Grabbing his hand on your hip and shoving it off, you start talking, tone as bitter as ever.

“I am not playing hard to get, Morgan. I simply do not want you.”

“Woah, sweetheart, what’s all the hostility for?”

“Because you’re a classic player! You have no respect for women. You just think they’re there for you to fuck and move on.”

“You know what they say - ‘Don’t hate the player, hate the game.”

“No. I do hate the player. You’re a self centered, egotistical, whorish bastard who doesn’t see women as anything but notches on his fucking bedpost. You don’t have any fucking respect for anyone that isn’t beneficial to you. People are not pawns in your game, women are not queens waiting to be conquered. Grow the fuck up, Morgan.”

Your words wiped the stupid smirk right off of his stupid face, left him speechless and expressionless, like a deer in headlights. Like your words, you left him standing there too, heading back to your friends at the booth. You were right. It was immensely gratifying.

tags: @darkmatilda @ihatethecrowdsyouknowthat

[wosos-stuff]

The journal of secrets

Chapter 5: The Moment of Truth (The last chapter)

Y/N wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep pretending.

Over the past few days, she had tried to put distance between herself and Alessia—tried to convince herself that it was for the best. But every time she saw Alessia, whether it was on the pitch or in the locker room, the knot in her chest tightened. It was like her heart was pulling her in two different directions: one part of her desperate to stay close to Alessia, the other terrified of what that closeness might mean.

She wasn’t ready to admit what was really going on—not to herself, and definitely not to Alessia.

And so, she started avoiding her.

It wasn’t easy. They were on the same team, training together almost every day. But Y/N found little ways to distance herself—making excuses to leave early, avoiding Alessia’s gaze during practice, choosing different teammates to sit with in the locker room. It was cowardly, and she knew it. But it was the only way she could keep herself from falling apart.

The problem was, Alessia wasn’t blind. Y/N could see the confusion and hurt in her eyes every time she brushed past her, every time she pretended not to notice Alessia standing nearby. And that only made the knot in her chest twist even tighter.

It was only a matter of time before everything came crashing down.

---

The Arsenal team had gathered for a team bonding night—a casual evening at a local restaurant, filled with laughter, food, and plenty of banter. Normally, Y/N would have enjoyed it. She loved these nights with her teammates, the camaraderie, the shared stories, the jokes that never seemed to end.

But tonight, all she could think about was Alessia.

She had done her best to keep her distance, choosing a seat at the opposite end of the table from Alessia, laughing along with her teammates even though her heart wasn’t in it. But no matter how hard she tried, her eyes kept drifting back to the other end of the table, where Alessia sat, looking as radiant as ever.

Except tonight, there was something different in the way Alessia carried herself—something quieter, more reserved. She wasn’t her usual bubbly self, her laughter not quite reaching her eyes. And every time their gazes met, even from across the table, Y/N felt the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air between them.

Halfway through the night, Alessia stood up and excused herself, heading outside for some fresh air. Y/N watched her go, her heart sinking. She knew she should follow her, knew she should finally have the conversation they had both been avoiding. But fear rooted her to the spot.

“You’re being an idiot, you know,” Katie McCabe said from beside her, nudging Y/N with her elbow. “You’re miserable. She’s miserable. What are you waiting for?”

Y/N opened her mouth to argue, but the words died on her tongue. Katie was right, and she knew it. She was miserable. And the longer she stayed silent, the worse it got.

With a deep breath, Y/N pushed her chair back and stood up, ignoring the curious glances from her teammates as she headed outside after Alessia.

The night air was cool against her skin as she stepped out of the restaurant, her heart pounding in her chest. She spotted Alessia standing a few feet away, leaning against the wall, her arms crossed over her chest as she stared off into the distance.

“Alessia,” Y/N called out softly.

Alessia turned at the sound of her voice, her eyes narrowing slightly. “What do you want, Y/N?”

The sharpness in her tone made Y/N’s chest ache. She deserved it—she knew that. She had been avoiding Alessia, pushing her away without any explanation. But hearing the hurt in Alessia’s voice, seeing the way her shoulders tensed—it made everything so much worse.

“I just…” Y/N trailed off, unsure of how to even begin. “I don’t know.”

Alessia’s jaw clenched, and she shook her head, clearly frustrated. “You don’t know? That’s your answer? You’ve been avoiding me for days, and you ‘don’t know’?”

Y/N winced. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“You didn’t mean to what?” Alessia cut in, her voice rising. “You didn’t mean to shut me out? Didn’t mean to act like I don’t exist?”

Y/N’s heart pounded in her chest, guilt crashing over her like a wave. She had hurt Alessia—there was no denying that. And the worst part was, she didn’t even have a good explanation for why she had done it.

“I just… I didn’t know what else to do,” Y/N said quietly, her voice trembling. “This whole thing—it’s confusing, and I didn’t know how to handle it.”

Alessia stared at her, the anger slowly fading from her expression, replaced by something softer. Something more vulnerable. “What do you mean?”

Y/N swallowed hard, her heart pounding in her chest. This was it—the moment she had been dreading, the moment when she would have to lay everything out in the open. But the fear of losing Alessia, of ruining everything, kept her rooted in place.

“I just…” Y/N’s voice faltered, her throat tight. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’ve just been—”

“Scared?” Alessia finished for her, her voice softening.

Y/N blinked, surprised. “What?”

Alessia took a step closer, her eyes searching Y/N’s face. “You’re scared. I get it. I’ve been scared too.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. “You have?”

Alessia nodded, her expression softening. “Yeah. I mean, this whole thing—it’s complicated, right? We’re teammates, and we’ve been pretending for so long, I didn’t know where the line was anymore.”

Y/N felt a lump rise in her throat, her eyes stinging with the weight of everything she had been holding back. “I didn’t know either,” she whispered.

---

The restaurant lights glowed dimly through the windows behind them as Y/N and Alessia stood in the cool night air, their breaths fogging in front of them. For a moment, neither of them spoke, the silence between them thick with unsaid words. Y/N could feel her heart pounding in her chest, her pulse thrumming in her ears. She didn’t know where to begin—how to explain the mess of emotions swirling inside her.

“I’ve been scared,” Alessia admitted softly, breaking the silence. Her voice was quieter now, more vulnerable. “Because… I don’t know where we stand anymore.”

Y/N’s throat tightened. She wanted to say something, anything, to fix the distance that had grown between them. But the truth felt too big, too overwhelming.

“I started pulling away because…” Y/N paused, taking a shaky breath. “Because I didn’t know if I could keep pretending.”

Alessia looked at her, confused. “Pretending?”

Y/N nodded, her hands trembling slightly. “This whole fake relationship thing… It started out as a way to, I don’t know, throw people off or whatever. But somewhere along the way, it stopped feeling fake.”

She could see the realization dawning in Alessia’s eyes, the way her expression shifted from confusion to something deeper—something that mirrored the same fear and hope Y/N had been feeling.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Y/N continued, her voice barely above a whisper. “I just didn’t know how to handle it. I didn’t know if you felt the same way, and I didn’t want to ruin what we had.”

Alessia’s eyes softened, and she took a small step closer, closing the gap between them. “Y/N, I—”

“I was scared that if I told you how I really felt,” Y/N interrupted, her voice trembling, “you wouldn’t feel the same. And then I’d lose you for real.”

For a moment, Alessia didn’t say anything. She just looked at Y/N, her eyes filled with something Y/N couldn’t quite read. Then, slowly, Alessia reached out and took Y/N’s hand, their fingers intertwining.

“I’ve been scared too,” Alessia said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Because… I started to feel the same way.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, her breath catching in her throat. “You… you did?”

Alessia nodded, her thumb gently brushing over the back of Y/N’s hand. “Yeah. Somewhere along the way, this stopped feeling like a game to me too.”

---

The world seemed to stop in that moment, the space between them filled with the weight of everything they had been too scared to say. Y/N could feel the warmth of Alessia’s hand in hers, could feel the steady thrum of her own heart pounding in her chest. And for the first time in weeks, the knot of fear and doubt that had been twisting inside her began to loosen.

Alessia’s gaze flicked down to Y/N’s lips, and Y/N’s breath hitched in her throat. She could feel the tension between them building, the unspoken question lingering in the air.

“Is this real?” Y/N whispered, her voice trembling with uncertainty.

Alessia smiled softly, her eyes warm and full of emotion. “Yeah. It’s real.”

And then, without another word, Alessia closed the distance between them, her lips brushing softly against Y/N’s in a kiss that was gentle and tentative at first, as if testing the waters. But as soon as their lips met, everything else faded away—the confusion, the fear, the doubt. All that mattered was the warmth of Alessia’s touch, the way her hand tightened around Y/N’s, grounding her in the moment.

Y/N’s heart swelled, a flood of emotions rushing through her all at once. The kiss deepened, slow and tender, filled with all the words they hadn’t been able to say. It was a promise, a question, and an answer all in one.

When they finally pulled away, their foreheads resting together, Y/N let out a shaky breath, her heart still racing.

“That felt… real,” Y/N whispered, a soft smile tugging at her lips.

Alessia chuckled, her eyes shining with warmth. “Because it is.”

---

They stood there for a long moment, just holding each other, the weight of everything they had been through finally starting to lift. Y/N could feel the warmth of Alessia’s hand in hers, could feel the steady rhythm of her breath, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she wasn’t scared.

She wasn’t scared of what came next, wasn’t scared of the complications that might arise from being teammates and now something more. All she knew was that she didn’t want to keep pretending.

“So… what now?” Y/N asked quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Alessia smiled, her eyes soft. “Now… we make this real. No more pretending.”

Y/N’s heart swelled with hope, a slow smile spreading across her face. “I’d like that.”

Alessia leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to Y/N’s forehead before pulling back, her gaze warm and full of promise. “Me too.”

As they stood there, holding each other in the quiet of the night, Y/N couldn’t help but feel like this was the real beginning—like everything that had come before had been leading up to this moment.

And for the first time in weeks, she wasn’t afraid of what came next.

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

Thank you for reading

[rei-plswork]

Just a dream.

Neuvillette x Gn!Reader

Comfort story

Cw: blood and death

You could barely breathe, gripping your chest in pain as you took hard gasps for air. Throat dry as you crawled closer to Neuvillette. You stared at him and he stared back with those now lifeless lavender eyes. Ones that you could not erase from your memory. Ones that used to brighten and stare back at you so lovingly.

You can still remember everything to the point it hurt. His smooth velvety voice that would call upon you from his soft lips or when he’d gently kiss you with them. His beautiful silver hair that you’d run your fingers through, tracing his water-like tendrils. His warm hands, which you’d hold as you walked together, gazing at the stores in Fontaine.

Now, his lips were dried and bloodied, not a breath escaping them. His hair cascaded his pale face and onto the floor, only to become greeted and soaked by a pool of crimson. His hands had become cold as ice, indicating his departure from the world.

You wanted to scream, shout, but that was impossible. The only thing you could do was attempt to breathe, choking out sobs as you cradled his bloody cold hand like a lifeline.

…

No.. wait. That was wrong, everything was wrong. What were you staring at again? There was blood everywhere and-

“(Y/n)..?”

A soft voice echoed in your ear. It was only when a cool hand touched your forehead did you snap out of your trance. You forcefully had to take a gasp of air, cold sweat dripping from your temple.

Where-? Oh right. You were having tea time with Neuvillette in his office and there he was, looking at you so lovingly yet with so much concern that it made your heart ache.

Did you fall asleep while Neuvillette chatted about the taste of the local waters of Natlan? That is most likely, though, that wasn’t as important as the gaping memory of your dream. You could barely remember it now that you’ve woken up.

“Darling, are you ill? Sigewinne is visiting today, maybe we can ask her to check you out.” Neuvillette spoke again, dragging you away from your thoughts. His voice was silky smooth, comforting your ears as you stare at his bright lavender eyes. A soft sigh of relief escaped your lips as you motioned him to sit next to you, which he quickly obliged without hesitation.

You were still trembling.

Just what did you dream of to have this effect on you?

Picking up your teacup, you muster up the strength to mutter a small, “I’m fine,” taking a deep breath to calm down as you stared at the cup now in your hand before back at him.

You had no idea what expression you were making yet you could guess based on the small furrow of his brows that it was not good.

Needing to feel his calming presence, you softly plead, “Hug me, please,” and he listens. His warm body wrapping around you, letting you burrow into the crook of his neck. The comforting sound of his heartbeat soothed you as he kissed your temples to further calm you down.

You were safe. He was safe. It was a dream. Nothing more, nothing less. Your dear Neuvillette was here, he always was.

…

A/n: this was from me making up a story in my head weeks ago. Apparently I still remember it so I write it. This is my first story on tumblr so I hope you liked it!! (Took like 2 hours.. I really suck at doing things quickly)

This is not in line with the canon events btw. Idk I’m taking it to a random direction.

Dividers from: @cafekitsune

[cryptid-killjoy]

Willem was always going to be a guy down for a HTH break in. It was just the sort of adventure Wild Will was in toespecially if it ended in chilli dogs.

Willem also wasn't sure he ever thought of himself as a father figure to any of the dolls yet. Caretaker? Yes. Father, somehow, he didn't see himself as that even of his own creations even if that might have been somewhat true. Thoughts for another, perhaps. Emotions that hadn't quite matured or been labeled, perhaps.

"A mother? Hmm. I guess I can see that. I'll think about that."

He left it at that for more pondering later. What he knew for sure and did not have to think any longer on was Figaro looked cool as fucking get out with a firearm like that. It straight up suited them. Willem decided it was hot and gave it a double glance, maybe two.

"You look like a video game... in a cool way."

The compliment felt needed.

But moving along into the Livvy's home. Willem wouldn't know Figaro would have expected, but he knew what to expect with how many times he'd made these excursions to check the dolls. He navigated the home with ease.

Figaro wasn't wrong for thinking it was sad. Willem knew it was. It was why they didn't mind when Figaro first chose to stay at the ball. Sad things like this were often easier done in private. Modesty for humility. Smalls said no judgement and Will felt safe enough he wasn't unaware of how it would come off.

They laughed about the shrine and even turned red to some extent.

"I'm pretty sure she's my number one hater wherever she is now and has a voodoo doll of me and with its nuts in a vice on a Battleship board and keeps tossing it overboard. I have a theory they had something to do with Pan's flood making the blizzard melt day randomly a double hard moment for us because only she would hate me enough right now to want to make every moment of my life as hard as it could possibly be."

Even saying his theory out loud made him laugh.

"I'd have deserved it though. From her mind. We broke up after sailing on a ship across the water. Trying to drown me just makes sense to me. Poetic Justice. Whatever better form of justice is there?"

Despite it being oddly morbid he said it playful with humoral candor.

Then Figaro agreed to head on out and search for Livvy's uncle's closet.

"Okay, that's good. You come find me then."

He was going to go looking for Smalls, but Smalls said they'd come back when they were done, so they changed their mind and would wait for Smalls to come back to them.

When Figaro headed out Willem went along with his routine of tinkering with each shelf. He'd careful take ever figurine and doll off one shelf at a time and neatly lay them on the bed while he dusted the shelf and then cleaned the figures themselves before standing each one back one at a time. As he did this, he'd make sure any soft ones were fluffed and their dresses were tidied, shoelaces or bows flounced, and hats properly straightened. If Livvy had told him anything particular about the doll, he'd go through that memory in his mind to pay it homage to what sentimental value it held in the secrets of their faces. To the one he had no information he sent the same appreciation because there's sentiment in the bond of a knick knack, a memento, a toy, that's far stronger than just a memory.

He once considered memories like pages in a book of who a person is. They can be turned and re-turned again. He could read the same chapter more than once as many times as he liked for fun, but never truly relive it. A souvenir or memento of a memory is simply that, a small token. It could be thrown away or lost, but the memory still exists. The chapter can still be filed through in one's recollection. A doll however, a toy with a face, for some reason feels different to Willem than some token. Even silent it looks back. It gives the feeling it experienced all your eyes saw in that same memory. It experienced what you did. A shared experience becomes a friend not a souvenir. One can look into those non-moving eyes and think they were there. Maybe it was nuts? However, if you were a person who could also take those same dolls and bring them to life if he wanted the idea might not seem so farfetched. Lifeless dolls might seem more important than just some old attachment that needed to be let go of.

To Willem's credit he hadn't gone as far as bringing any of Livvy's dolls to life, but it had entered his mind. He was under no delusion he'd ever see Livvy again and he didn't want his old girlfriend's living dolls being a drain on relationships. He was bright enough to realize that could be a deal breaker moving forward. He just hadn't gotten to the fully moved forward part yet.

Okay, so he'd done a little messing around. Zero existed. Even Piper existed, more new, Nutmeg. These were not people who were ever going to be in Willem's life in a permanent way. They were when the mood hit kind of friends. These were complicated friends, not actual relationships.

All that said, none of it was on its mind now. Just the dolls were. When he finished with the cleaning, he'd pick up that mermaid again and sit down on the bed. It had a tendency to get the most favor and longest time being held. It had the vast majority of memories attached for Will. He laid back with it. He sat it on his chest and admired its face as he relaxed. He'd glance over at the shelf and give it a smile. Then he'd smooth over the mermaid's glossy hair. Motions like had a way triggering other past memories like turning Livvy into a doll at Barbie and Ken's party. He remembered the texture of her hair and the sand. He recalled the paints. He could relive every brush stroke of the artwork like muscle memory as porcelain slid under his his fingertips.

He sang one of the lines to the song he wrote Livvy just above a whisper. "If you don't feel that this is real then I'll just walk away. Way deep down I know I found the that proof that love can save. So take some time to figure out what this thing is all about. I hope some day you feel it too. I promise that I'll try to love the best I can. You make me a better man. Whatever this is leading to. For the first time I'm gonna listen to my heart."

Then he took a big breath and sat up. He kissed the little figurine. "I guess it all led me to you pretty lady. I saved you from the boxes. I can live with that."

Then he shined up her face one more time before placing her back in her proper place knowing full well his heart would always be with the dolls. It would be a big enough win for him.

"Thanks for being a part of that." He added as he tapped one finger tip on the glass after closing the shelving unit back up.

It left a smudge.

"Woops."

So, he went to Windex the last spot before he was completely done with the room. He cleaned it spotless enough for a bird to smash into. He was pleased with his work. He joked to the dolls, "Lucky this thing isn't a patio door."

“Now that would be entertaining to see. Especially if you two do the awkward dance of trying to pass each other but stepping in each other’s way,” Figaro said. Bright sides, sunny sides, you had to have the light to be able to have the dark too. Figaro tried to keep the balance.

Chili Dogs. Now that sounded good. Just the thought of it was enough to get the hunger going, the saliva flowing, despite being in this stink of a place. “Fuck it, we’re sneaking into Halloweentown one of these days. Once you try one of their Chili Cheese Dogs, your life isn’t going to be the same.”

Hansel as a handsome guy though? “It’s weird,” They said. “I feel somewhat … almost maternal over him? Guess I kind of am a parent now.”

What an odd thing to think about. What an odd thing to realize. In Funkytown, the dynamic hadn’t really changed. Figaro was in charge but hardly ever acted on it. It felt - wrong, somehow, to try to take control, having watched Gepetto give them their own autonomy, their own thoughts, their own actions. So Mr Punch kept being uncontrollable. Hansel kept living in the walls and being a bit of a pervert, his human body still having human feelings, thrusting against a wall while watching through a peephole.

“Yup, keeping this on me,” They agreed. It was not a good smell. Eventually all of the flesh and organs would rot away and then it would just be bones, which didn’t have as bad of a smell, but right now, it was pretty rank. The place needed some sort of Fabreeze cleansing. Or maybe Frank and Delta spent so much time up in their castle, they didn’t even know that it smelt so bad down here. They needed some sort of comment box, in Figaro’s opinion.

All of their information about guns came from movies and videogames. They knew at the very least to turn on the safety for now, until they would need it. “All I need are some green plants, and we’ve gone totally Resident Evil in this bitch.”

Great minds think alike. Figaro was also all about upgrading their setup at home. Getting a bigger TV, though the vintage one had been moved into their room, because they weren’t going to get rid of Gepetto’s things, other than giving some to Willem, of course. But it felt like he was one of Gep’s kids too. The stuff was THEIRS. Not just inherited by Fig. Better sound system, more gizmos and gadgets.

Figaro let Willem take the lead since they didn’t know their way around the apartment block. They had the gun in hand, waiting for a chance to use it. To ‘blast them’ as Thomas would say. Their knowledge of annoying curses and animal speak wasn’t the most useful for a zombie situation, except to get birds and other animals to let them know where the zombies themselves were. They had to bring out the big guns.

They didn’t say anything about Willem having the key. It just made sense, given that he came to visit the dolls. Others might have found it a bit romantic, perhaps, that he kept visiting his ex’s apartment, taking care of her things. But Figaro just found it practical.

The two of them went through the building, checking around corners, making sure that there wasn’t something waiting on just the other side. But it looked as if the building had mostly been cleaned out. Any life that was here that would have drew the zombies in, disappeared a long time ago. Still, once inside of the apartment, Figaro turned the lock on the door to feel a touch safer.

Though they were anxious to get at that Hawaiian shirt collection that hopefully had not been eaten away from bugs or faded by light coming in through the windows, they were curious about Livvy’s room, and would follow Willem inside. It wasn’t exactly what they had expected.

The shelves were new, and taken care of, that much was clear. It wasn’t covered in dust and cobwebs like everything else. The dolls seemed to be in a place of prevalence. They stood out, like they were an important item in a video game or something, rendered more predominantly.

“I’m a little surprised,” They admitted, hands on their hips, looking at the girliness of the room, the teal color that was on everything, the bit of a mess of clothes from when Livvy was deciding what to pack all that time ago for the big boat trip. “I was expecting a huge shrine to you,” They said, looking to Willem. “Or did you get embarrassed and take that down?”

They weren’t trying to be funny or teasing, that’s genuinely what Figaro thought that they would walk into when it came to Livvy’s space. A whole wall plastered with pictures of Willem, maybe some with Fig but with Fig’s face cut out or something like that. Pieces of his hair, his toenail clippings, on a shelf. This was a voodoo town after all, it wouldn’t be hard for some white girl to get their hands on some sort of love potion or DIY-Voodoo-Doll set. But it was actually pretty … relaxed in here.

They were watching Willem more than the dolls after that, making sure that he was going to be alright while doing this. But maybe it was something that he just needed to do, the way that some people just needed a big cry. Something about it being cathartic.

‘Miss her if she comes back.’ ‘Don’t get too lonely.’

It was … kind of sad.

“Yes, I’ll leave you guys to talk and gossip and … do whatever it is that y’all do in here, no judgment,” They said, putting their hands up and backed out of the room slowly. “I’ll come find ya once I finish raiding that closet.”

[kykyonthemoon]

7 Days the mini-series

About this series: ✈️

Day 05: Sunshower

I was used to just him and me, always together. However, as we grew older, our own worlds expanded, and more people came.

I didn't think about it until one day.

That day, I headed to Caleb's school after class. We went to school and returned home together day by day. There was going to be a volleyball tournament between high schools in the district, so he often had to stay after class to practice. I chose a good spot in the grandstand, and finding him among the players on the field was not a problem to me at all.

Whether it was studying or playing sports, I loved seeing him putting all his mind into it. Occasionally, he would glance towards the stands, then smile when he saw me there. When he scored, I wouldn’t hesitate to stand up and scream: “YAYYY!!! CALEB YOU'RE SO COOL!!!” And every time, his teammates would constantly make fun of him till his ears turned crimson.  While in the stands, the girls in the upper grades would glance and me and whispered:

“Who is that girl?”

“I don’t know. She must be crazy about Caleb…”

“Who wouldn’t like him? Caleb is so handsome, and kind!”

“OMG!!! He’s staring at us!!!”

A few seats ahead of me, the females began to conceal their faces and laugh among themselves. I had no idea why my stomach felt uneasy. I sat down and remained silent throughout the practice that day.

Of course, Caleb didn't understand what upset me so much. Even I could not know what it was. I was too young to start dating, yet old enough to acknowledge the most beautiful emotions of my youth were blossoming. Every afternoon, I waited for Caleb at the sports court before we came home together. And every afternoon, I caught him surrounded by so many other girls.

There was no doubt how popular he was at school. I should be happy for him, since he was everyone's favorite. Yet why could I not get rid of this uncomfortable feeling in my heart? Was it because I was used to being the only one by his side? Was it because I disliked the idea of sharing him with anyone else?

That day, after his practice, I saw Caleb talking to a classmate. She was proposing that they take a stroll home together, it seemed. My fists clenched, head bowed, I walked away. There was a tint of soreness on my nose.

After a while, I heard Caleb calling my name. My feet didn't stop, they wanted to go even faster. He caught up with me and took hold of my wrist.

"Pip-squeak? You didn't wait for me today?"

His naïve expression infuriated me even more. I pulled my hand away from him and replied:

"Go home with her."

Every step I made now vented the path that had done nothing wrong. Caleb casually strolled beside me and said:

"Who? Is there anyone else other than the two of us?"

He took notice of my silence, then pulled my hand to stop me. “Come on. Tell me, what have I done wrong?”

The radiant smile on his lips forced me into the situation where I failed to keep my poker face. I pouted and gave him an unkind cheek squeeze, saying:

“Stop smiling.”

“On't ou ike it en I ile?" (Don't you like it when I smile?)

Caleb said as I rubbed his cheeks to let out my sulking though he did not do anything wrong. That very moment, it began to rain, even though the golden sun was still shining brightly.

“Oh, a sunshower?…”

“This is also known as fox rain. Legend has it that when it’s both sunny and raining, it’s the time for the fox to welcome his bride. But our Gran said that this type of weather indicates a quarrel between the Sun God and the Rain God.” Caleb explained and turned to face me. “It seems that you are mad at me too, pip-squeak. I'm not sure what I did wrong, but... could you kindly forgive me??”

I didn’t answer right away, yet the smile on my lips gave him the answer. I held his hand in mine and we continued walking on the long path.

“Caleb… Will you… date someone else in the future?”

“Huh? Dating? Why are you curious about it?”

“Well… I was just thinking… When I grow up a little more and you’re not with anyone, I… I will be your date... Is that alright?”

Our hand squeezed, he grinned, as bright as the sun and the rainbow in the rain in front of our path home.

[ribbcnpoems]

A not so tragic ballet.

pairing: bestfriend! eddie x henderson! reader word count: 1k warnings: bestfriends-to-lovers, everyone knows, mutual pining, after the upside down, fluff, swearing, no use of y/n, unrequited love (not really), first kiss, one sexual implication. summary: After many requests on his hand, you finally went to a Corroded Coffin show but didn't warn him. Maybe it would be for the best?

It's been months since Eddie asked you to come to a show but crowds weren't your favorite thing in the world, especially since the band had blew-off and there was more people at each show. But tonight, you chose to go without telling him, to surprise him. If only you knew you would be the one to be surprised.

Dressed in the leather skirt and the Hellfire tee that he loved seeing you in, you looked at yourself in the mirror for what felt like the hundredth time. Maybe it was? You had started to get dressed at four in the afternoon even though the show was only at eight in the evening. The thing was, you didn't tell him the whole truth about why you didn't come to these shows, it was mostly because there were lots of people but a tiny part of you also was sure you couldn't bare with him flirting with the girls in the crowd. You wouldn't call yourself in love, but your brother sure would for you as he peeped through your room.

"Isn't it too much?" you asked him when he glanced at you with a smirk. "Well, you go there with your date, don't you? It's cool to get dressed for a man you love." he shrugged and you gulped without having a chance to answer and lie to him, making his eyes widen. "Wait- You don't have a? Holy shit, that's-" he didn't finish his sentence, laughing at you and cursing at how funny this all was, making you frown. "What the fuck, Dustin? Stop laughing at me, respect your fucking elders, kid!" but that didn't work, making his laughter even louder as he brushed off your annoyance, his eyes gleaming with malice. "You'll see! You look great tho! Don't forget the other eye, dumbass. I'm going to Mike's!" and with that, he closed the door behind him, letting you completely confused.

You chose to ignore that annoying little gremlin and go back to the next step of making yourself presentable, drawing a line of eye-liner that had to be even to the other, although it took multiple tries you finally managed to nail-it. Looking at the clock, you realized there was still two hours before the show and you sighed, going on the patio to smoke a cigarette, happy that Dustin wasn't here anymore to call it gross. Your nerves were a mess but you managed to eat some of the left-over lasagnas from last night without staining the shirt your bestfriend gifted you. Finally, you hopped in your car, ready to pick-up Robin, Nancy and Jonathan. Steve had the duty to bring the kids and you realized that you missed-out on a lot by not going to more of the shows when everyone did. The atmosphere in the car when the four of you were finally together was odd, Nancy and Robin whispering at each-other, Jonathan smiling fondly whenever he looked at you, but you tried to also ignore that.

You had to admit, they were always right about his talent and people loved the band for a reason. You were halfway into the set-list and he still didn't saw you as you stood behind the others.

"Hell, it's time for the foolish unrequited love part, isn't it?" The curly-haired spoke after the fifth song as people acclaimed him and you couldn't help and did yourself. Dustin and El glanced at you from afar and you frowned at them but they just giggled, turning towards the stage as the music went on. The air felt heavy suddenly and you recognized the chords of a song of his that you never got to hear the lyrics of. Suddenly, Robin was standing next to you and he could easily see you if he peeked at them, but you weren't mad at her for doing so. You just stood there, bobbing your head at the music. As soon as the lyrics came, your jaw dropped, it was more like a ballad and you started to dance slowly to yourself. When he saw you, he smiled fondly and never took his eyes off you, even if you could see his anxiety through his gaze. You didn't saw that all your friends were now looking at you too, you felt them stare but you were being way to mesmerized by the singer in front of you.

" Your silhouette lingers like smoke in my heart,

A tragic ballet where we drift apart..."

Now you understood, he was singing to you, for you, and you couldn't help it as your smile widened and your heart started beating way faster than it should have. He was singing to you. The last chorus went on and you couldn't help but mouth the words that were already engraved in your brain. As the music faded and the show was coming to an end, Eddie never left his eyes off you to look at the crowd, eyeing you shamelessly and you laughed when Garreth had to give the goodbyes to the crowd. "I think he's having a stroke. Anyways, thank you for having us tonight, you rock!" Was all he said before the lights faded and he pushed your bestfriend with his foot, making him take a few steps towards you. The heat spreading in your cheeks was unmistakable but you couldn't care less, he thought his feeling were hopeless as he sang it, and you understood why Dustin laughed at you earlier, thinking that yours were the ones who were unrequited.

"You came, I didn't- I," he stuttered, waving a hand through his curls, "Why aren't you running away, Henderson?" he frowned at the way you stood there, just smiling at him, unable to answer anything and when he felt Robin's gaze on him, turned around to see her mouthing some words. "Oh." was the only sound that came from him afterwards and you repeated, "Oh. So, a ballerine?" you smirked and it was his turn to blush furiously. "A ballerine." he confirmed, tensing when you wrap your arms around his neck without a warning, whispering in his ear, "Lyrics aren't accurate, though. The ballerine would very much like you to take her around the world."

He shivered, well aware that you peeked on the double meaning of the sentence and unable to contain himself anymore, his lips crashed against yours as he pulled you closer to him.

notes: hiii. ok so i finally managed to write a bit, i hope you liked it and please, don't forget that my requests are opened ! also i'm more of a steddie person so i'm sorry i just cringed ok....

[28harryssunflower]

A glimpse, then a chance

It was one of those electric nights on tour, with the screams of thousands of fans echoing through the arena. Harry was buzzing, as always, feeding off the vulnerability of the crowd as he sang the chorus to Little Things with the rest of the lads. He was always one to make eye contact with fans, giving them little winks or cheeky grins to make their night even more special.

But this time, as his eyes scanned the sea of faces lit by the glow of phone screens and stage lights, they landed on someone who made him falter for half a second. She wasn’t just any fan - there was something about her that made her stand out, even among thousands. Her smile, the way she swayed slightly to the music, completely absorbed in the moment - it was like time slowed down for Harry when he saw her.

He couldn’t help himself. During his verse, he locked eyes with her and gave her one of his signature cheeky smiles. When you realized he was looking at you, your eyes widened, and you smiled back, a little shy but undeniably radiant. Harry’s heart skipped a beat, and for the rest of the song, he kept sneaking glances your way, trying to memorize every detail of your face.

The song ended, and the boys moved on to the next, but Harry couldn’t get you out of his head. As the concert went on, he found himself looking for you over and over again, each time feeling a little rush when your eyes met.

By the end of the show, he knew he couldn’t just let you walk away. As the band said their final goodbyes and headed offstage, Harry turned to one of the crew members. “Do me a favor,” he said, running a hand through his sweat-dampened curls. “There’s a girl, third row, a little to the left. She’s wearing…” He trailed off, vividly describing your outfit and features. “Can you see if you can get her name? Maybe her number?”

The crew member raised an eyebrow, smirking. “You’ve got it bad, mate.”

“Just… don’t make it weird, yeah?” Harry said with a sheepish grin.

Back in his dressing room, Harry was pacing, still buzzing from the concert but also feeling a bit ridiculous. What if you thought it was strange? What if you weren’t interested? He was in the middle of spiraling when there was a knock on the door.

“She’s waiting outside,” the crew member said with a grin.

Harry’s heart raced as he smoothed his shirt and tried to play it cool. When he opened the door, there you were, looking just as stunning up close as you had from the stage. You looked nervous, clutching the strap of your bag, but when your eyes met, you both smiled.

“Hi,” Harry said, his voice a little softer than usual.

“Hi,” you replied, your cheeks flushing.

“I’m Harry,” he said, sticking out his hand before quickly realizing how silly it sounded. “Right, you probably already knew that.”

You laughed, and the sound made his stomach flip. “I’m Y/N,” you said.

You talked for a while, and Harry was immediately drawn to how easy it was to talk to you. You weren’t fawning over him like most fans - you were just… real. Before you left, he asked if he could have your number, and when you handed him your phone, he quickly saved it in his contacts, adding a little winky face next to your name.

From that night on, Harry couldn’t stop thinking about you. He texted you the next day, and one text turned into a phone call, which turned into a string of late-night conversations. It wasn’t long before you saw each other again, and Harry couldn’t help but feel like meeting you had been a twist of fate.

And whenever someone asked him what his favorite part of that tour was, Harry would just smile and say, “It’s a long story.”

[notrebdomine]

#4 Rebel Mission

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

Intro to the "Rebel missions"

So first of all, let's get in some context, what were the "Rebel Missions"?

The Rebel Missions were basically vandalism that Eric, Dylan and Zach Heckler did to those people who didn't liked or even people they didn't even knew, we can say they did it just for "fun"

A little important fact, is that  Dylan and Zach started doing the missions first (revenge vandalism to people's houses in the neighborhood) and then Eric followed/joined them.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

The missions were wrote on his website, so we don't have "screenshots" of how they looked like, but fortunately we do have the transcripts so here are the transcripts of the Rebel Missions

Transcript #4 Rebel Mission

❝4 This mission was frehkin unique. The mission was from my house (REB), through the corridor, past the graves, and to the place where we do all of our fireworks. It was supposed to be like the other missions to this place. The weather was nice, we had 4 items made up and ready for use. The first fuse didn't work. The second fuse malfunctioned also. Both of those items were just about 100-120 thunderbombs strapped together. We had one more like the first 2 and we also had a little contraption of bottle rockets. These bottle rockets were strapped together, and put into a bottle. We placed this bottle on top of a large hill. So quite a few people could see. After about the 3rd try, I decided to just light the fuses that were directly from the rockets. Usually we use loooong fuses so we have time to get away. But this time, with Vodka and Kibbz standing over in front of some bigass shrubbery. I just did the direct fuse. After lighting it I ran like a sonuvabitch to Vodka and Kibbz.

 By the time I made it to them the rockets were starting to go off. We had about 50 in the assortment, so it lasted a while. It was rather perrrty. Then we busted the bottle and went BACK to the 2 strips that didn't work. They both had rather crappy quality fuses so they went out before they reached their target. I took the last one, tied the remainder of the first 2 fuses to it, and lit it for the final f*ckin time. Since I am the fastest in the group, I usually light the fuses and Kibbz would be at the point where we stop running. Vodka would keep guard while I light. This time both of them went over and laid down on the side of this hill about 100 yards away. This would be the first time we have ever seen our own work in action. All the other times we just heard them. I lit it, ran to the hill, and watched the lovely ass fireworks go off. They lasted about 45 seconds, a total of around 400 went off. Dogs were barkin and everything. It was really cool to see em all to. 

After that we went to this point in the trails that looked like the Q from quake. We smoked some cigars, and headed home. Except...when we were a few blocks away from home, we had an incident. We were walking along the sidewalk when a f*cking garage door opened at the house that we were right by! We bolted into that person's yard...and ducked down and tried to be as quiet as possible. This adult came out, got his newspaper(it was about 4:30 in the AM) and went back in. I tried to signal Vodka and Kibbz but they didn't see me. We waited...a few minutes later the man got in his car and started down his driveway. The flood of lights from his car just covered us. He stopped, got out, and yelled "WHO ARE YOU!" we got up, said we were just passin through and stuff, and he kept sayin "GET OUT OF HERE", "ILL CALL THE COPS!" and "WHO ARE YOU." We f*ckin hauled assholes and elbows home. 

This mission was also liquor free as a result of this person named Brooks Brown {redacted by FBI and missing in files - possibly home address} who tried to narc on us. Telling my parents that I had booze and @#%$ in my room. I had to ditch every bottle I had and lie like a f*ckin salesman to my parents. All because Brooks Brown thought I put a little nik in his windshield from a snowball.......BS? yes, Anyway, that was mission 4.❞

little reminder Kibbz is Zach Heckler

[girlwhorizzed]

sometimes you thought jj liked to mess with you on purpose. with all the girls he'd have on his arm for the night being just to fuck with you, and all the ones he'd bring to the chateau, only whenever he knew you would be there.

it’s not that you guys were exclusive or anything— but god, he could at least be a decent guy and not rub it in your face, especially when deep down you know you’re the only girl he actually wants. you know how he is.

there was no denying it at this point — he was definitely getting a kick out of making you upset. he was no stranger to being an ass just for the sake of it and he was pretty used to having girls fawn and pine after his every move like he was a prize worth having. so for that reason, he’s extra amused when it comes to your attempts to rile him up, always amused with the thought of you seething on the inside, knowing he could make you act out so easily.

it was an unspoken game he liked to play with you, one where he made it his personal mission to rile you up as much as possible just to see how you’d react. whether it was being obnoxiously clingy with other girls in front of you, or being overly affectionate all of a sudden, you’re always so damn fun to mess with.

but today, you were in a funk — more agitated than normal, which was saying a lot because you could often be rather huffy. so jj had known, and yet he still decides to go and poke at your patience. your fuse was short as it was, so when you find him in the chateau with yet another girl from the cut he was entertaining, you were already angry and on the verge of tears. jj is sat on the couch, the pretty girl on his lap as he casually smokes a blunt, his mouth forming a grin when he sees you enter the room.

“oh hey. you’re just the girl i wanted to see.” he grins, not even having the decency to look sheepish. the girl on his lap gives you a quick glance over, taking in your dishevelled appearance with a judgemental eye before returning her attention to him. you cross your arms, shooting him a look as the girl on his lap scoots in closer, draping her arms around his neck lazily. and it was that stupid, smug little look on his face, along with the sound of her sweet giggles, that has you absolutely seething. he’s practically sitting there challenging you to snap, his shoulders relaxed back and arm resting over the back of the sofa as he watches you with an amused, expectant gaze.

usually you'd give into his games, let it get to you, let it cause you to end up with a runny nose and sad eyes in your bed. not today you've decided, a quick decision you really haven't acknowledged yet— just knew you were going to do. you play it carefully, like you remember doing in highschool, breath in and out— flash a sweet smile and walk off.

he’s momentarily shocked, not having expected you to react any other than your usual pouty self when he was blatantly messing with you. he thought for sure he was about to receive a good little whine, so when you instead just give him a little smile before heading to your spare room to get ready, he assumes. he had been waiting for you to start arguing, already prepared to rile you up even. more — but that’s not what you end up doing. his eyes narrow in confusion as he watches you go into your room and disappear behind the closed door. when he hears the lock click, he has to resist the urge to get up and bang on it immediately — deciding to wait just a little bit first. he huffs, trying to play it off cool with the pretty brunette in his lap who he’d forgotten about, giving her a gentle pat on the leg.

you focus all of your attention into the makeup you’re doing, taking your time and putting all of your focus into it. you have no idea where you’d go, but you didn’t care, you just needed to get away from him and his antics for a while. you take your time, really putting your heart and soul into getting yourself ready. by the time you’re done you look pretty so, so very pretty, and there’s no doubt about it, you’ll definitely turn heads tonight.

it’d been twenty minutes of silence in the living room when jj starts to get a little antsy; you were taking forever and a day. he was no stranger at all to you getting ready for a night out, always taking your time to perfect your makeup. only this time, he didn’t like it. he didn’t like not knowing what you were doing, or where you would be going, or what you would be wearing and who you’d end up around. the idea of you showing up somewhere, looking all prettied up and sexy for other guys to see you, really didn’t sit with him. he’s still sat with the girl, chatting a little mindlessly and occasionally casting a glance towards your door, a little confused why you hadn’t come back yet. he was expecting you to come out and try to talk him into not hanging out with the girl, not to just go MIA and get ready. he was getting a little bored and restless, deciding it was about time that he checked on you. “be back a second.” he murmurs to the girl, standing up and going to your door, frowning before knocking.

when you open the door, it finally clicks for him that your not moody, expected some red around the eyes and a slight pout to your pretty lips, but instead you’re in front of him, looking even more stunning than normal. he raises his eyebrows in surprise, slightly shocked at the level of effort you’ve gone through just to get changed. he’s stood in front of the now open door, watching as you look through dresses on the bed, all pretty things you’d only ever wear when he’d taken you for a nice night out. he takes your whole appearance in, all dolled up and obviously not wearing skimpy party clothes in front of him tonight. “where you going?” he asks, his voice a mixture of perplexed and irritated at the same time.

"somewhere." you say, cautiously aware to keep it vague— he'd go out of his way to ruin it for you— yet hearing the irritation visibly in his tone of voice caused the decision of a baby pink dress that complimented your body so majestically, you could be considered a goddess.

he’s leaning against the door frame, still in those grey baggy sweatpants and a white shirt that fit snuggly around his arms. he rolls his eyes at your blunt response, arms crossing over his chest. “somewhere? be more specific, baby.” he prompts again, watching you change into the pretty outfit with a slight frown, not even sure why he cares so much. after all— he's done this to you so many times before.

hearing him call you baby in that damn near desperate yet irritated tone causes your cheeks to flush, as they always do when he pulls that card, but you just can’t fold for him anymore. not this time. you try your hardest to seem nonchalant and unbothered, but jj can see right through your little facade, watching as you slip into the dress and turn back to face him. he does take a moment to look you over — admiring the way the dress clung to your every curve and the pretty colour that made you look like a little doll. he’d have to be a damn fool not to acknowledge how pretty you were looking, and he could only hope that no one else would be able to see you tonight and think the same. “answer me.” he mutters, still leaned up against the door.

you could practically see his mind ticking over as he thinks of the types of places you could be going to, he’d expected you to be going out to some house party or a club — somewhere he could go to and find you again so he could keep an eye on you. but you weren't attending any of the things that came listed in his head. you were going to the country club even though you were from the cut, you had the beauty of a kook and surely none of the men would make a fuss out of it, maybe the women.

"m'going to the country club. my cousin works there and i could get a free drink or two."

but his jaw tightens when you mention the country club— he doesn’t like the thought of those pretty boys in their polos seeing you dressed like a doll, who would no doubt be eager to have such a pretty thing on their arm. jj was certain with the dress you had on you'd fit right in— but he couldn't let you know that. “the country club is for kooks, not pogue chicks from the cut.” he muttered.

"good thing i look like a kook then." you said, adding the finishing touches to your look— you knew you were being petty and didn't have any shame for it. if jj could play this game so could you, and who knows maybe you'd become eye-candy for the men at the country club— partly to get back at jj and partly for the free shit you could earn out of it. no one would ever suspect that this cute little thing would ever scam anybody.

his eyebrows raised at your response, jaw clenching even more. it was probably the one answer he hated most, of course you were going somewhere that had kooks and alcohol — just what you needed to get a good little buzz on and forget him, leaving yourself open to be pounced on by some random guy. you push past him, giving him a subtle wave and an air kiss as you leave out the door, not putting anymore effort into the conversation because it was his fault that you were going out anyways.

he has half mind to stop you in your tracks, push you back into your room and remind you who you belong to. he doesn’t though, because he knows you’d never forgive him for it, and decides to swallow all his possessiveness watching you leave through the front door with a huff of defeat. having pissed you off enough for you to go and get attention from others at a place that will no doubt be crawling with kooks who have a fetish for pogue girls, it was eating at him.

it was only a few hours later you returned back to the chateau, expecting it to be empty and vacant because when you left it was— kiara was grounded at home, and john b was God knows where, and pope probably at home studying. the lights were all out, signalling that no one was home and the house was vacant — giving you the perfect time to get changed and wash the makeup off your face before crawling into the spare bedroom. you were exhausted, having been chatted up by some guys who looked rich enough to piss on their father’s rolexes, and despite it giving jj a taste of his own medicine, you just wish your night hadnt ended up having to talk to so many pompous men.

you were feeling good, high off the ego boost you’d received from the men at the country club that night who’d spent their evening complimenting you like crazy and asking for dances. you’d come back, a little buzzed from the champagne and cocktails, and expecting the chateau to be just as it was when you left — empty and quiet. how wrong you were, and it was evident when you were when you open the door and he’s lounging on the sofa, still in the same sweatpants and white shirt from earlier, clearly having just been sat there the whole time you were gone. his head turns and he locks eyes with you, and despite it being dark inside, you’re sure he’s watching you like a hawk, noting your appearance.

"hi jj." you say shyly, breaking the silence and embarrassment hitting when face-to-face. you were together but the constant back to back with other people made you feel ashamed. at least whenever you got back at him, and this was one of those times out of two.

he’s watching you, silent and somewhat tense as he runs his eyes over your figure for what feels like the hundredth time, jaw clenching again when he sees the way the dress hugs your body. he doesn’t know what’s pissed him off more — the fact you’d put yourself in that dress and the country club, or the fact you seem to be embarrassed to be back at what is your own house too. “have a nice time?” he asks, voice slightly gruff as he takes another drag of his cigarette.

you’re just about to pass him on the way to your room— not in any mood for an argument that could occur tomorrow morning when you were in a better headspace— but when his hand suddenly grabs your arm and has you pushed up against the nearest wall, your body almost completely squashed against his as he practically pins you down, his chest rising and falling with anger. “stop fuckin' cheating on me.” he asks in a low voice, eyes piercing down on your own.

he doesn’t really mean it, of course he doesn’t, he knows you would never give yourself up— but the jealousy was bubbling and bubbling, and it makes him want you all to himself and away from the other guys in that damn country club. he doesn’t trust any of them, and he sure as hell doesn’t trust you going there and not getting chatted to. he’d been sitting here for hours thinking of every damn scenario of you getting drunk and chatting it up with a rich boy. he’s got you there as his hand moves to capture your jaw in a firm grip, his thumb rubbing roughly across your cheek — his eyes darkened, staring into yours as he has you completely pressed against the wall with no where to run. you’d been wanting his attention all day, even more so when he’d started messing with you with some girl, and here he was, all the attention in the world on you with his body so close you could feel the rise and fall of his chest. “you gonna answer me or not, princess?"

"i didn't cheat on you. you cheat on me!" you say, the ego boost from the alcohol begining to take place as you stand up to him— it wasn't fair he got to pull the cheating card on you when the only times you'd ever act out like this was when he'd pushed you to your own limits. but of course it was only reasonable when he could have other people over him.

"the hell i do.” he scoffs, his temper rising at your response. he’s a little shocked at the courage you had to talk back to him, but at the same time he’s kinda into it. he can see the slight flush to your cheeks, so he assumes you’re probably at least a little tipsy right now, which has the ego boost he thought you were getting from the country club making even more sense to him. “what did you go to the country club for then, huh?”

you scoffed at that, eyes practically rolling back. he had the nerve to come for you when he'd done all this just for a reaction, and get upset when he got one. "what did you have that girl in your lap for then, huh?" you bark, he could be such a hypocrite.

he rolls his eyes, his irritation bubbling up even more as you use his own words against him — you were right, he couldn’t deny it, but he’d be damned if he’d admit that to you. he presses you back against the wall, his body completely against yours, leaving no gap between the two of you. “you’re not getting away with that, princess.” he mutters, his breath hitting your face.

the pet name seems to soften you, it always did have a way with making you feel special, making you fold completely. it's evident on your face, when your cheeks blush. his names for you always melted your defences, growing soft and all warm again with that. any other girl would brush it off and continue arguing and pushing the matter about the girl— you’re slowly giving up — giving up that tough, argumentative attitude you’d suddenly sprouted up with.

he had you right where he wanted you now, watching as once again, his use of that nickname makes you fold. the irritation in his expression melts away a little as he’d never been able to resist his own sweet little pet when she was soft, pink cheeks and looking all pretty in her pretty pink dress. “there you go, princess…” he murmurs, tilting your chin up with his thumb and rubbing his thumb over your bottom lip.

he’s staring down at you, his body still practically pinning you against the wall, your curves flush against his. he had you completely at his mercy right now, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to take advantage of that or try and act like a good boy and be soft with you. “how much did you drink?” he asks, voice a little gruff as he looks down at your lips — they were more red and shiny now then he remembered.

"just two. didn't wanna do to much." you say softly, even mad at him you respected him— he is your boyfriend after all and getting black out drunk with a bunch of other men would disrespect him. but for now, you always took pride in enjoying when moments like this occured. when both of you got soft with each other and all cuddly, staring up at him with your doe eyes.

he studies your face, not entirely sure if he believes you only had two — you looked a little more floaty and giggly than he remembered. but he couldn’t deny that he loved you like this, pretty and sweet and soft in front of him. he knew his resolve would probably crumble at some point anyway, especially if you kept looking at him with those big eyes. “you sure about that, baby?”

"uh-huh." you say, shaking your head obediently with a little bite to your lip. readjusting his hand from your jaw to your curves that were perfectly grabable in this little cute dress.

he’d almost forgotten you’d gone out and put the pretty dress on to piss him off — in fact, he kinda had until he noticed it again. he still didn’t like you wearing something that was gonna get attention from men at the country club, and he had half a mind to tell you to change immediately. he lets out a heavy sigh, running eyes hand over his face. “you had guys lookin’ at you?”

you rolled your eyes jokingly as you flashed him with a cheeky grin. "didn't pay no attention to them though. just took pictures for instagram." you giggled, knowing you of course you took pictures, but jj was an over thinker and would always assume the worst, even being soft as he is now, he's still bombing you with questions.

“instagram huh?” he asks, a hint of annoyance on his face — he was definitely gonna check that later. he doesn’t think you’d be stupid enough to use that as a coverup to show some random guy your cute pink dress, but he’s certain he’s not going to like the comments you’ve recieved about your appearance. “any comments on those pictures?” he mutters, already assuming he knows the answer.

"just kiara and sarah." you giggled, you start to move his hands, letting his eyes close momentarily as your adjusting his palms from cupping your breast to your ass.

he hates how the answer somewhat calms him down, although he’s not at all pleased about the fact some guys have more than likely seen the photos. he’s not liking it one bit, but it’s even more irritating for him how soft and sweet you’re being, and how god damn pretty you are in that dress. he watches as you move his hand, a slight scoff leaving him. “keep still, baby.”

he’s taking his time looking over your appearance, noting that you were definitely a little more giggly than usual and your eyes were slightly dilated — and he doesn’t think you’re putting that on, which means you’d probably actually had more of a buzz than you’d led him to believe. his hands slide from your jaw down your body, feeling the silk of the dress on his fingers as he moves them down your hips.

it's quiet for the most part, your head against his chest and a few meaningful kisses and muttering sweet but nothings— before he can’t take it anymore, having you in the hallway and against the wall isn’t enough for the boy, as he grabs your arm and practically drags you towards the bedroom as you both let out giggled.