#can you ever know yourself if the one person who did is gone?

[imsofreakingtired]

Can we PLEASE get an angsty sevika!Xreader headcannon for reader who is a removing shimmer addict and is struggling with cravingssss

omg i love that. also, sorry this took a while, couldn't figure out a way with a hc list so i wrote it as a drabble instead 😭

hold me, console me

content warning(s): depictions of addiction and withdrawal

"come on, don't leave me, it can't be that easy babe if you believe me, i guess i'll get on a plane fly to your city, excited to see your face hold me, console me, and then i'll leave without a trace"

~~~

“Sevika,” you groan, “I’m going to die.” 

“I hope not.”

She walks into the room, twisting off her prosthetic arm. This is a good sign. It means she is ready to settle down with you, that she doesn’t have any plans of leaving again for a while. 

Sevika sits down on the side of the bed where you’re lying with your knees curled against your chest, trying to breathe through wave after wave of pain. She places her warm hand on your thigh and straightens your leg. Her voice is soft. “Stretch, baby. It’ll get easier.” 

What they didn’t tell you about coming off Shimmer: the muscle spasms. The blinding headaches. Your body can’t adjust to the sudden drop in energy after such intense and constant enhancement of the senses. It is recoiling at normality. It is punishing itself for ever getting hooked in the first place. 

You can deal with the physical symptoms, though. You’ve been through some shit. You’re tough enough to handle a little pain. What you can’t stand are the cravings, the nightmares, the paranoia. You wake up several times a night in a cold sweat, shaking uncontrollably after some terrifying, nonsensical dream. You break down at the most inconvenient times, convinced that Sevika has finally gotten sick of you, that she’s leaving you, that she’s already gone. On really bad days you’re ready to kill for just one shot, one tiny vial, just to take the edge off. You crave the kick, the rush of heat in your head, the burst of energy. The feeling that you can do anything. Even as it killed you slowly, even as you felt the aftereffects eroding your body. You know in the back of your mind that the decision to quit has saved your life. But gods, was it hard to stay off it. 

Sevika watches your face with gentle eyes as she massages your legs. Her big hand, rough with calluses, powerful and tender. She is strong even without Shimmer. When you were using it, you felt almost like you deserved her, that you belonged to her—that you could repay her even a little for what she did for you. 

Now you look up at her and wonder what she sees first—the traces of Shimmer, the faded pink veins lining your skin? The desperation in your eyes? The way your limbs lie, depleted and scarred from the past use of the substance? 

“Sevika,” you say.

“Hmm.”

“Do you miss it?”

“Miss what?”

“Me when I was on it.” You shift on the bed, your head feeling heavy. “You know…you know how I fucked like you never saw before when I was on it.” You mean it to be a joke, but you can’t bring yourself to smile. This is your fear: that she met you when you weren’t quite yourself, that she’s disappointed in the person you actually turned out to be. 

She’s quiet for a moment. Then she asks in a low voice, “do you think I was with you because of the way Shimmer made you in bed?”

“I’m useless now,” you say. You feel the tears burning behind your eyes, and you’re ashamed of the way your voice falters. “I can’t even lift a full crate of bottles.” 

Sevika moves closer to you. You push yourself away, not because you don’t want her to touch you, but because you don’t want her pity. You dread some words of nonsense flattery, empty reassurance. You don’t want her to lie to you, then turn her back, the way countless others have done before. It was part of the reason why you started using Shimmer in the first place—so you could feel, for once in your life, that you were powerful—someone people wanted to stay for. 

She doesn’t say anything of the sort, though. You’re lying on your side now, back turned to her so you can’t see her face. 

She says, “get over here, idiot.” 

You turn your head. She lies down beside you, aligning her body close against yours. The heat of her skin feels good against your aching back. She wraps her right arm over your waist, pulling you close to her. 

Into your shoulder she murmurs, “you’re not useless.” 

The tears gather in your eyes and you can’t stop them from falling into the bedsheets. 

“It’ll get easier,” she says again. She brushes your hair away, kisses your neck. “And I’m always gonna want you.” 

“How did you do it?” you whisper. “It must have been so much worse for you.” 

“Baby, does this body look like it’s built the same way as yours?” 

You laugh weakly. 

“It was hell,” Sevika says. “So I get it.” 

You reach for her hand and hold it close to your heart. “It’s still beating, right?” You ask. 

“Yes, thank god.” 

“You’re not leaving, right?” 

“No, fool. Get some rest.” 

You let your eyes close. Your breathing grows even. Sevika is not a woman of many words, but you know that when she makes a promise she will keep it.

~~~

thank you @prettyinpink69 for the req :)

[hellfire--cult]

Edit of Eddie: pitifulbaby

Chapters: Masterlist (Go here to see list of chapters, plotline and general warnings.)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers, Non-Traditional Omegaverse, Slow burn, Modern!AU, Mechanic!Eddie

⚠️18+: lots of angst, mentions of pregnancy (not reader), evil person appearing, reader having a crisis, some violence, eddie being a sweetheart, hurt/comfort

wc: 9.9k

A/N: i didn't take a month to update, wow. hope you all like this chapter because here is where everything starts turning a lil more serious. thank you @andvys for always proofreading for me 💕

Anyways, Enjoy! ❤️ And don't forget to always support me by hitting the reblog button or leave a comment!

Taglist is closed

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CHAPTER 21

Tap. Tap. Tap.

You tapped that pen on the desk as you held onto your forehead. A headache was forming as you started thinking of how to cope with the next interviews you will have with this woman. A successful woman who had many clothing brands to her name. One who wanted many pages with her clothes on display by various models. A woman.

A pregnant woman.

You weren’t resentful. You weren’t angry or jealous… You just know if things would have gone different, you would have a child in your arms by now. You would be showing that baby off like your pride and joy. Looking at a pregnant woman was like looking at the one thing you never reached, the one dream that was so close to being completed only for it to be ripped apart. Ripped from your grasp by two evil beings.

That was the unfair part. If it were your fault, if it were something that had happened to you, then you would have no one to blame but yourself. That was the part you were still resentful of. The part you hated to dwell on. The part you didn’t want to remember. You often wondered if you could even hold a baby. Would your heart let you? Would it allow you to feel the warmth of someone else’s baby after what you went through? 

You sighed as you fixed the papers on your desk, looking at the name of the woman. She was kind, she seemed happy and radiant, holding her pregnant belly as she discussed business with you and Liana. You saw how she used her left hand that held a beautiful wedding ring on her ring finger, and she rubbed it all over her belly, laughing when she got distracted when her baby kicked.

You wanted to feel it, yet you didn’t. You wanted to know how it felt, how it all could be… but you also didn’t want to be reminded of what you didn’t get to have, and maybe, ever have. At this rate, is there someone out there that won’t fuck you over? Someone you are willing to trust? 

And he popped in your head.

As soon as he did, you shook your head, brushing him off. He wasn’t a good idea. You know about his record of women, you know who he is and what he does. You would not be surprised if you came to find out he is fucking someone else apart from you right now. You wouldn’t be surprised. He can do whatever he wants, can’t he? Just like you do. You two are unattached. As it should be.

This was just beneficial for the two of you. You were friends who had a great time together in and out of bed, and that was it. You are happy that that is it. Don’t you? Yeah, you are. You are not looking for a relationship, much less with Eddie Munson. From what you know, he has never been in a serious relationship. He’s never had a girlfriend before, and you asked around. You asked Steve, Jonathan, Nancy… they all gave you the same answer: Eddie does not do relationships.

Your pen dropped from your hand, a gulp sounding in the room. You were blinking a few times as you breathed again and grabbed the pen once more. 

But you couldn’t help but imagine it. You wanted to invite him to stay over often and not just leave in the morning. You want him to eat breakfast with you, or lunch, whatever. It was as if whenever you got together first with your friends, you used that time to be together like friends and just that. Enjoy a movie together, some drinks, a dinner, but then everyone leaves and you are on each other like animals in heat season.

You wondered if he ever wanted to spend a night with you alone, but… watching a movie. Or having some pizza together with some beers and play games… or– wait, you are thinking about a date. You are thinking of going on a date with Eddie. But is it? You two are like that when not fucking eachother’s brains out, so what’s wrong with spending time with him as a friend and just a friend? It isn’t weird.

You should offer it, but what if Eddie actually thinks you are asking him on a date? Or what if he thinks that because you want to do something friendly with him, you are putting an end to it all? Why are you overthinking this? You didn’t before, and you should stop. He is not racking his brains over this like you are, so you shouldn’t.

“Knock knock.” You raised your head to see Robin knocking on your open door, a small smile on her lips. You knew why she was here, so you let her in, putting the pen down on the papers on your desk. She walked in, leaving the door open, tilting her head towards you. “You okay?” “Yeah… Yeah, I am Robs.” You sighed and one thing is to pass by a lovely couple where the woman is pregnant and not see them again, and the other is this. Meeting this woman several times and knowing that at one point you will find her sitting on that chair with her baby in her arms instead of inside her belly. 

“Okay… Liana is calling for everyone in the cafeteria. She wants to tell us something important.” You frowned at that, wondering what it could all be, because Liana always made sure you were one of the few to know first about things or deals happening to the company. 

“What?” Robin shrugged at your question and continued.

“She was smiling, so I am not assuming the worst, you know…” Okay, that calms you down slightly. You nod and get up from your desk, smiling at Robin as she smirks and points at your neck. “Things are turning serious?”

“What?” You covered your neck with your hand, cursing at Eddie in your mind. After he dropped Argyle off from a night at Jonathan’s bar, he drove you to his house, and there wasn’t any sex, just him with a sudden hunger to eat you out, and make you see stars consecutively. 

That was a new development. Eddie was very into making you cum. He told you he would make you cum at least twice whenever you two stayed together, and he sure is taking that promise seriously. You weren’t complaining, but he made you feel… wanted. And you didn’t want to feel like that… You didn’t want to feel… hopeful.

“When can I properly meet Jeff? Like, as your best friend, so I can do that whole ‘Hurt her and I murder you’ speech.” Robin said with a smile and you felt guilty. So, so guilty. How do you tell her this is not serious? How do you even begin to explain to her that this is not what it looks like at all? 

How do you even tell her it’s not Jeff, but Eddie you’re seeing?

“Never because this is not serious and never will be.” The words stung in your tongue and you tried brushing it away with a roll of your shoulders, in which Robin caught on. Your hands fumbled in your purse to get the concealer out so you could reapply it on the hickey and some powder to conceal it. 

“You look upset about that.” Her words made you look up as you popped the concealer open and walked towards the mirror in your office. 

“Upset? Why would I be upset?” You asked, your heart racing slightly at your own question but Robin stood next to you, crossing her arms over her chest as you applied two dots of concealer on the skin of your neck.

“Because whenever you roll your shoulders, crack your neck, or don’t even look at me, it means something is not going as you planned.” You gulped a lump that was suddenly bothering you in your throat as you stared at Robin through the mirror. You weren’t upset. Why would you be? Why would you be upset at all about how things are going? You aren’t. 

“You’re wrong. I’m perfectly fine with what I have now, and, I– I am still talking to other people.”

“Bullshit! Jeff is the only one you’ve been seeing for a month now or more and you confessed to me that no one fucks you like–”

“Yeah, yeah, got it! I know what I said but– We aren’t exclusive even! So– Who knows? Maybe he is out there, fucking someone else right now!” You froze for a second at your words. Could that be happening? Could that be something that Eddie was doing? You two don’t really talk about being with other people, nor have you had any indication of him sleeping with someone else but, he is in all his right. He can do whatever he wants, just like you can. You just decide not to because you’re afraid of being disappointed and embarrassed for the other person for not performing like Eddie does.

That was all. 

“Well then, make it exclusive!” Robin’s voice was loud, which made you shush her with a movement of the concealer wand as you put it back in the container. You passed the tube to her and opened the powder to set it on your neck. 

“I won’t because we don’t want that.” You could feel the pulse in your neck becoming quicker the longer you held this conversation.

“How do you know he doesn’t want that?” Robin’s voice was slowly starting to annoy you as you walked back to your desk, ripping the concealer out of her hands to put it back in your purse. 

“We talked about it already, and we just want to keep having sex. That is all there is.” You straightened up, fixing your blazer and turning to look at her. “So?”

Robin looked you up and down and did an ok sign with her fingers, “Unnoticeable.”

“Perfect. Do you have any idea what she wants?” You asked as you walked out of your office, Robin closing the door behind her as you two went to the elevator.

“I have no idea. She wants everyone to be in the cafeteria for an announcement. I don’t know what could possibly be.” Robin replied as you two got into the elevator and pressed for the second floor, the door closing in front of you. “She’s not retiring, isn’t she?”

“Oh my god, Robin, Liana is only forty-one.” To your answer, Robin shrugged. Once the doors opened, you all walked out and moved to the cafeteria where many people were already waiting and talking to eachother, speculating into what the news could be. You wondered if any of the rumors that were happening were true. 

Some speculated she was resigning. Some speculated the company was going to close down. Some were saying she was just going to give out the announcement for a better salary. You did not have a single clue what was happening, except for the fact Liana seemed happier, and she was being less strict with everything around her. Fuck, maybe she was resigning.

You stood next to Robin who was already grabbing a muffin from the counter, but your nerves didn’t let you sit still. You couldn’t even think of eating something right now, afraid that it would get caught in your throat. You had a feeling something you weren’t going to like was going to happen, but maybe it was just your nerves and the client situation throwing you off… and the talk you just had with Robin.

Liana walked in, smiling as she greeted a few, coming over to stand in the middle of the cafeteria. Everyone greeted her like the superstar she was, a renamed magazine director. A magazine that despite the technological changes, it’s up and running, changing it from the public view, to only be a magazine, a catalogue, for clothing brands. 

“Okay, hello!” Liana greeted you all, and you fidgeted in your place as she looked all over the employees, or well, most of them, which weren’t a lot. Just thirty people in the building right now. “So, I bet you are all not figuring out why I called you here.”

“No idea Liana, so please, spare us from the anxiety.” A male coworker laughed, which prompted everyone to let out a chuckle, as well as Liana.

“Sure, it’s going to be quick. For the next month… I will be looking for a temporary replacement.” Your eyes widened as you turned to look at Robin, who was wide-eyed just as you were.

“Temporary?” Someone asked and your eyes looked back at Liana, and you just felt a shiver run down your spine. Something was telling you to get out of there. Something was telling you to simply run away. Something was telling you that you shouldn’t listen to this.

“Yes… I have been hiding something from all of you. My personal life is something I wanted to keep apart from my work as much as I could, but these new decisions require me to be open about it now.” You felt your blood going cold. Your hands were tense. Your tongue was dry.

“Don’t tell me…” Robin’s whisper was far away as you only focused on Liana, who was smiling widely, her hands opening her blazer, and there happened to be a belly. A swollen belly. A pregnant belly.

“I’m going on maternity leave. I’m six months pregnant.”

If there was any clapping, any cheering, any kind of reaction to that, you were numb to it. You were deaf to whatever was happening. Everything moved in slow motion for you right now, and you were trying to process what she had just said. You were trying to make it make sense but it just didn’t. How? When?

She is pregnant. Your boss is fucking pregnant. Everyone is getting pregnant.

You want to leave. You want to run away but you can’t. Just because it didn’t happen for you, it doesn’t mean people can’t live that. Just because you couldn’t make it happen doesn’t mean others cannot. You had to be rational about it. You had to be a grown up and you have moved on from this. You did.

So why do you feel like throwing up? Why do you feel like the world is crumbling on top of your head? Why do you feel like you won’t reach anything you ever want? Why are you so envious? Why?

“Baby, snap out, please.” Robin’s words made you blink, looking at her through lost eyes. Her eyebrows were met in the middle in a worried frown. Pity. You could see the pity and you didn’t want to see it, or feel it. 

“I’m fine. I’m alright, just shocked, I didn’t even… know she had a partner.” You tried to play it cool as shock and not utter disappointment in your life. You were trying to play it off as if it wasn’t one of the worst things you heard in the past week.

“It’s… okay to feel sad– You just had a client–”

“My two doves!” Liana’s voice broke you from your conversation with Robin, making you look at her with words being stuck in your throat. You didn’t want to face her but you had to. You were being childish. You need to make your heart stop turning a bit in your chest cavity and tell your stomach to stop flipping upside down.

“Hi Liana…” Robin was side-eyeing you as you kept looking at your boss, your breaths quite heavy. “I’m– Congratulations! I didn’t know you had a partner!”

“Oh, yes! I do, it was kind of… an on and off thing until we decided to make it work and well… take the next step for me before it was too late and all!” Your boss said with a smile and– The baby was going to be born in something that was broken? Your throat was dry, not even gulping down saliva helped. Liana turned to look at you, “I’m sorry for not telling you. Especially you.”

You didn’t know what to say. You had to say something. This was like a praise coming from her because it meant you were one of her favorites. You cleared your throat, and you were hoping you were mustering a smile, because you couldn’t exactly feel your face right now.

“I’m not mad, Li. I’m just… very surprised…” You said and she smiled, holding her hand out. You frowned a bit, putting your hand on hers and– No. Please, no. She directed your hand to her belly, so you could press your palm against it and you felt the entire world caving in for you. It was soft. It was so soft and there was a baby in there.

“Still, sorry… But! Can you feel him? A strong baby boy is growing in there!” She was smiling, excited, and she was so happy to make you be the one to touch her belly, something private, something intimate. And all you felt was anger. Sadness. Jealousy. Resentment. 

You forced another of your smiles but the moment you felt her belly bump slightly, signaling the baby inside was moving, the bad thoughts were gone momentarily. Someone so pure, so innocent and beautiful. A baby boy. Your eyes went towards Liana who was smiling expectantly at you, making you tilt your head in question.

“What is it?”

“You’re my first choice.” She whispered and Robin’s eyes widened as you retreated your hand back in shock. 

“Sorry?”

“My replacement. I think it will give you… amazing training. I will be looking at others just in case you decide to not take it but… It will give you a pay raise and it stays that way even when I return from my leave… and then… when I retire…” 

Was Liana telling you she wanted to make you her successor? She wanted to train you to be the next CEO of this company? You should be so happy. You should be up on the moon by this revelation. You knew you were one of Liana’s favorites but never to this extent. And even now, realizing this, your smile was still forced. Your excitement was forced. Your happiness was forced.

“Are you serious? Do you seriously think I can do a good job?” Your voice was small, and Liana only smiled as she nodded and then put a finger over her lips to signal you to keep quiet and then looked at Robin.

“Not a word of this, especially you babbling Robin.” Robin only gave a salute in response as Liana winked at the both of you and walked away. You just stood there, seeing how she put her hand on her belly as she walked to the next set of people. You felt your heart combusting into itself, a huge fire expanding all over you, and you had to try to shake it off. You had to try to shake this moment away because you were feeling humiliated. Defeated.

“Wow, I’m happy for you!” You knew Robin was trying to look at the bright side of things for you. You knew she was trying her best and that she could see the twitch in your eye. The way your gaze didn’t leave Liana’s belly for one second. A baby that was sporadically planned. A baby that, maybe, was planned to save a marriage. 

It wasn’t fair.

“I… yeah.” You finally turned to look at Robin, and you felt your hand itching to reach your phone. To text someone. Him. You wanted to text Eddie. You wanted to see Eddie but why? He is a friend, first and foremost and he has had your back in bad situations before. That’s why. You just feel like you can count on him. That’s all there was.

“We should… go out and celebrate tonight! Go to Jon’s bar and have a few drinks…” Your eyes were distant and your mind suddenly switched. You shouldn’t be sad. You shouldn’t. You were offered to take over Liana’s spot while she was gone. A CEO position! It was big shit! You give her a slow nod, a small genuine smile finally appearing on your lips as Robin could almost sigh in relief.

“Yeah. Yeah! I mean it’s not an official thing, but she said it! I’m her top choice! And you bet your ass Robin I’m taking it.” Robin did a small little happy dance for you, giving a small clap and you finally felt a little bit of the tension you were feeling leave your shoulders.

As long as you don’t look at your boss’ belly, you’ll be fine.

You took another shot with Robin. This being your fourth one of the night.

Nancy was sitting next to her, in front of you, while next to you sat the man you’ve been wanting to see since yesterday night. Since today morning. Since today afternoon. Eddie smirked as he drank his water, having drank only one shot but keeping the status of designated driver in check.

“A CEO, now that’s something else.” Eddie mentioned as you turned your head to look at him, the alcohol not kicking in at all for you, unlike Robin who was already buzzing with it, nudging Nancy who was giggling next to her. 

“I am not a CEO yet, but I am going to be trained to be one.” He hummed in approval, raising his glass at you, prompting you to raise your daiquiri, a sweet drink to show your happiness. That’s definitely what you felt. You two clinked glasses and then you felt your knee being squeezed slightly underneath the table, making your breath hitch for a second.

“Congrats, Peach. You deserve that.” His smile was genuine as he directed it your way and you had to stop your damn heart from beating so fast. There was no need for it to go that quickly. 

“Damn right she does! She got so many clients!” Robin said with a cheer, making you flush as she praised you in front of your friends, making you look down at your glass as you took a sip from it.

“Why are you going into training, though?” Nancy asked, and you stiffened in your place for a second, and the man next to you noticed. You cleared your throat and opened your mouth to talk but Robin beat you to it, which made your blood go cold, not wanting to give the actual explanation or even hear it.

“Liana is leaving because–”

“I’m going to the bar to get another drink.” You said as you raised from your seat, the warm hand that was on your knee retreating for you to scoot away and out of the booth with your almost empty daiquiri glass. You want a beer now. You really want a beer. You know Robin will tell them, but you do not want to listen to it. You don’t want to see the pitiful looks on their faces, much less Eddie’s.

You slowly walked through the crowd, the bar a little crowded thanks to it being a happy hour on a Thursday. Many people came here after work, just like all of you did many times. You reached the bar, Jonathan smiling as he walked up to you from behind it as he cleaned a glass.

“Another one?”

“I want a beer.” His smile faded as a frown now came to happen in his eyebrows and you knew he realized something changed, that something happened.

“Did something happen over there?” You shook your head as a signal of not wanting to talk about it. He gave a single nod as he leaned downwards, grabbing a beer out of the ice bucket. He popped it open as he handed the bottle to you and took the glass of your daiquiri away from you. “Don’t drink too much, you got work tomorrow.”

“Are you my mom?” You gave him a small smile, which he reciprocated, shaking his head at you. His head perked up when he heard someone calling him from the other side of the bar. He gave you a wink before moving away from you, leaving you to stand there with the beer in front of you. You took a long sip of it, feeling the bitterness run down your throat and you groaned at it. 

Why did it have to hit you once again? Why did they have to ask? You didn’t want to turn around, afraid that the group of three might be looking your way with frowns on their faces. You didn’t want to go back and hear the typical ‘It will be okay’. You don’t care. You shouldn’t care.

“Darling?”

Your body froze.

That wasn’t Eddie’s voice. That wasn’t Jonathan’s voice. That wasn’t any of the people you knew in this town’s voice. No. It cannot be. It shouldn’t be. It’s just someone with the same vocal chords, people can have identical voices. It can happen. But, you need to make sure. You need to make sure that it’s not what you think it is. Who you think it is.

Your head turned to your left and you felt your heart dropping to the floor. You no longer feel the cold of the beer in your hand as you stare at the blue-colored eyes in front of you, at the blonde hair that was nice and kept, at the office attire he was wearing. No. Why? Why now? Why here? Why in the bubble you had created for over a year? Why?

“I thought that my eyes had deceived me, but it really is you.” He dared to send a smile your way. He dared to fucking smile at you. He dared to talk to you. He dared to even acknowledge you.

“Henry.” He straightened up in his seat at your small voice. You were just staring at him, wide eyed, frozen. You couldn’t feel your limbs. This was not right. 

“Hi, darling.” You noticed the twinge of nervousness in his tone and you finally felt your body tremble a little bit. You could feel the adrenaline rushing all over as your stomach flipped inside out. 

“Don’t… Don’t call me that.” You stuttered, looking away from him, anywhere, but your vision was blurry, hazy even. Was the alcohol finally hitting you? Right now? No, that wasn’t it. No.

“I’m sorry, it’s just… It’s nice to see you’re… fine.” How fucking dare he say that to you? The pent-up anger was rising in your throat like vile, but then it was just a feeling of pure humiliation as you remembered the two pregnant women you saw today. Something that could have happened to you if he hadn’t gone cheating on you with your best friend. If he hadn’t tricked you. If they hadn’t done an illegal thing to you. 

“Fine…” You scoffed at him, still with a lost look in your eyes, not wanting to look at him. Your tongue was hurting you, your throat was closing up on you, and you felt every inch of your body wanting to rip open. 

“I– I asked your mom where you went… She didn’t really want to give me any details, and that was fair but… I didn’t think I would need a business trip to meet you here.” You finally dared to look at him. Why was he saying these things to you? Why did he even care to talk to you after what he’d done to you?

“I did the divorce papers, and I left, and you should be fucking thankful I didn’t have the energy to take legal action for what you two did to me.” Your mouth was moving all by itself as you talked to him, and Henry sighed, giving a nod your way.

“I know, I know, but– I never got to tell you I am sor–”

“Don’t you even fucking dare to go there.” You wanted to smash the beer in his face. You wanted to bolt out of there. You needed to run. You felt your fingers having an itch to connect to his face in a fist. Did he think the word ‘sorry’ would mend things up? Did he think he would redeem himself with that stupid single word?

“I know we hurt you, but I’m honestly glad you’re alright–”

“Alright? Alright… Yes… In another city, away from my own mother. Yes. I am alright.” He noticed the sarcasm in your voice, the hatred and the pain displayed in your eyes and when you stared at him you couldn’t help but remember how your hand felt over the swollen belly. How the baby moved inside. How it felt to touch something you might never have. How it felt to touch the one thing you thought he would help you in getting.

“You need to calm down, I just– I just wanted to say hi–”

“Hello.” 

Now that voice you recognized. Your head turned to your left as well as Henry’s did. You saw how Eddie’s gaze was trained on him. How he was scanning every inch of your ex husband, not knowing it was him. You– You wanted to leave. You wanted to run away.

“Who are you?” Henry asked as he looked at you and then back at Eddie. He pointed back and forth, “Do you know him?”

“Yes… a friend.” Eddie’s eyes only looked at you when he noticed how small your voice was. You knew he felt something was wrong, and it seems he realized you were not going to introduce the two of them.

“I’m Eddie. You are?” You just stood there, staring at Henry as the asshole smiled politely, sticking his hand out. 

“I’m Henry. Um… Her Ex-Husband. Old friend.” 

You could feel how silent everything went between the three of you. You turned to look at Eddie and– His eyes were staring at Henry’s face. You noticed a vein popping on the side of his neck, and even with all the tattoos, you started to notice the redness that was starting to slowly appear. Your senses were slowly coming back to you as your intuition was telling you that something was going to happen.

“Henry… huh.” Eddie’s voice was low, sending chills down your spine. You didn’t expect Eddie to take Henry’s hand, shaking it slowly. You could use Eddie as a scapegoat, tell Henry to go away, or maybe you could leave, but– “Yeah, I know you.”

And then it was a blur. First you were watching how Eddie was shaking your ex-husband’s hand, and the next, Eddie had pulled him towards him and head-butted Henry right in the middle of the forehead. Then it was a punch. Then another. Then on the floor. Then more punches. You could hear yelling, screaming, Jonathan pulling Eddie away from Henry with your help.

You saw Henry on the floor, holding his face, his nose all bloody, a busted lip. How many punches did Eddie throw? You weren’t sure. Your body was moving, but your mind was not registering anything of what was happening. There was a lot of yelling, Nancy and Robin grabbing you and pulling you out of the bar with Eddie and Jonathan. 

Your eyes caught sight of Eddie still screaming, yelling, his eyes could have been red from the fury that you could feel emanating from him. Jonathan was screaming too as well as Nancy, maybe trying to calm Eddie down, but all you could focus on was the man that just hit your ex-husband square in the face. 

“We need to get out of here. Let’s get her home.” Was that Robin or Nancy? You didn’t know. You just felt yourself being moved, slowly regaining your senses back. You could hear Eddie talking to the girls as you all got into his car, wondering where he drives first.

“I want to be alone.” You were still looking at Eddie and he understood your sign. You could see the bit of confusion in his face that you decided to be with him, instead of Robin.

“You sure?” Robin was asking next to you, even with the slurring in her tongue, you knew she was worried for you. You appreciated it, you nodded at her but– You didn’t need her. You didn’t know what you needed. You needed a distraction as the images came back to your head, the alcohol finally hitting you after the adrenaline that just happened.

You felt your heart bursting as you got inside the passenger’s seat, Nancy and Robin in the back. Eddie was still looking your way, but all you could do was stare forward as he got into the driver’s seat. The car was moving, the lights were passing but all you could see were the smiling women holding their bellies. Henry and Camila in your bed fucking after your third consecutive procedure. 

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair.

Why here? Why did he have to have business here? Why? It wasn’t fair. Was he alone? You didn’t check if he had remarried. You didn’t want to check. You shouldn’t want to. Why would you want to? To see the people that hurt you have what they took away from you? What if Camila was also pregnant? Maybe she was. Maybe she fucking was by now. 

It wasn’t fair. 

“Call me if you need anything. I’ll be here.” You felt a kiss on your temple and you knew Robin had leaned forward from in between the passenger’s and driver’s seats and planted a kiss there. Or was it just pressure?

The car’s doors opened and closed and then it was just the wooden scent cologne and yourself. The drive started again, and you felt so numb. You felt dead. You needed to feel alive again, and Eddie might help with that. You needed Eddie. You wanted Eddie. 

The car ride was silent, and you couldn’t even look at him. It was humiliating for you that he met the man that fucked you over. That broke you. You didn’t want Eddie to be looking at you with worry or pity. You didn’t need that. You didn’t need people to feel sorry for you. You are strong, and you have been strong until now. 

You weren’t going to break. Not again.

The moment he parked, he looked your way as you got out of the car and you motioned for him to follow you. It was silent, it was too silent, but you just needed to reach your apartment. With Eddie. 

The moment you two walked inside your apartment, you felt the heat all over your body, the adrenaline, the emotions just traveling in every blood cell and white cell. You walked towards the couch as you heard the door closing, and you plopped down. 

“Peach… are you alright?” You heard his voice, but you could hardly register what he was asking. You felt the couch dip beside you and you turned your head to finally look at him and– He was looking at you with the eyes you didn’t want. He was staring at you with that pitiful look in his face that you didn’t need.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” You asked, which made him blink your way and you didn’t even register your movements, that you were already climbing up on his lap, his eyes wide in surprise as you cradled his face in your hands. Your lips connected to his and you sighed in relief as you felt the warmth of his kiss against yours. 

Your hips swayed against him, and you felt him groan into the kiss as your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer, flushing your body against him. His hands grabbed onto your waist, his head pulling back for a second as your breath hit his lips.

“Peach, hold on–” You didn’t listen, your head in overdrive as you kissed him again, this time a little more forcefully than before. You didn’t want to think and you didn’t want to talk. You didn’t want to remember any of the events of today or from a year prior. You just needed to feel some warmth, some release. Your chest was against his as your hips kept moving against his, making you sigh into his mouth.

You took this opportunity to let go of him, not breaking the kiss, so you could take off your blazer and throw it away. You didn’t care for much right now, just that you needed to feel him. That you needed him. That you needed to shut your brain down with pleasure, but Eddie was not following your plan, which was making you grow irritated, desperate. He pulled away from your lips again, trying to talk once more.

“Hang on, for just a second–” And you didn’t let him. Your head dove into his neck, biting it gently, eliciting a grunt from his part.

“I need it.” Your voice was a whisper into his skin, your hands traveling to go underneath his shirt, ready to rip it away from him. The images need to go away. The memories need to disappear. Everything needs to go away. 

“Sweetheart–” You started kissing on his pulse point, your hips rubbing once more against him, and you could feel the bulge that started appearing but– He ripped you away from him, roughly, grabbing onto your biceps tightly. He was breathing heavily as he glared at you, and your eyes finally found his.

“Ed–”

“You don’t need this. You don’t need me like this… You need something else, Peach… I can give that too.” 

You just looked at him for a good while. This man that you consider a best friend at this point, despite what the two of you do behind closed doors and under your friends’ noses. Your eyes looked towards the hand that was holding your left bicep and– His knuckles were bloody. His knuckles were red and his skin had been cut. He hurt himself to hurt the man that hurt you.

And everything started sinking in.

Your eyes started burning with the incoming tears as you couldn’t handle the pain. The anger. The sadness. The disappointment. The humiliation you suffered. The struggle of seeing the cause of your pain once again after a year of running away from it. 

Your body shook as tears started leaving your eyes and going down your cheeks. You turned to look at him again, his eyes finding yours, telling you he was here. Telling you he was not going anywhere. You needed Eddie, just not in the way you thought. Your body shook aggressively three times thanks to trying to hold back sobs, only for the fourth one to finally come out.

Then it was one after the other. Eddie’s arms wrapped around your body, pulling you flush to him, laying your head on his shoulder as he let you cry on him. Once again, he was holding you as you cried. He was holding you through something you didn’t think you were going to relive again. You let out cries of pain, staining his shirt with your tears and makeup, but he didn’t care. He never pulled you off him. His hands rubbed your back as he rocked you from side to side and you couldn’t help but just cling to him.

You needed Eddie like this. You wanted Eddie like this.

You wanted Eddie to hold you all day. To tell you that everything was going to be alright. That everything was going to work out. You wanted him to kiss you, to forget, yet to not do more than just that. You wanted Eddie to keep holding you like this, close to him. You wanted more than just the roughness of a kiss or the insinuating touch. 

But it was a thought that your burdened and drunken mind could focus on tomorrow. Right now, you have to cry. You have to cry about the unfairness. You have to cry about what could have been. You are letting yourself cry and he is holding you and rocking you from side to side, soft shushes in your ears–

“I’m here, Peach… I got you, baby. I got you.” 

And when you closed your eyes, you drifted off. You were expecting that in your sleep you would be encountered with nightmares of your past, images of the memories that consumed your being. Instead, you dreamed of your friends. Instead, you dreamed of someone. Instead, you dreamed that somehow, somebody, was telling you to not lose hope. To not let a low life make you think you are not worthy of something like that. Of a family.

Your eyes opened to the sunlight entering your room through the sheer curtains. You winced slightly at the brightness, turning your head to find yourself all alone in your bed. You were wearing a shirt, some sleeping shorts, and you don’t really remember changing. You slowly sat up on your bed, wincing as you felt your body a little sore for some reason, and your neck was stiff.

Your cell phone caught your eyes, and you reached over to grab it, seeing that it was 10 AM. You scrolled through the screen, seeing a message from Robin, Nancy, Jonathan… Everyone was wondering how you were doing. You replied to everyone, telling them you were okay, and in all honesty… you felt lighter. You had overslept, missing work, and there was simple message from Liana telling you Robin told her you felt sick and to get better. You had the day off.

God bless Robin.

The sound of a pan falling outside your bedroom door startled you, making you jump. Oh, Eddie stayed. He didn’t go home. He stayed with you until the morning. Your heart rocked in your chest from side to side and you didn’t mind it this time. You didn’t tell it to calm down. Your feet found the floor, and you walked towards the door, slowly opening it and walking out towards your kitchen to see Eddie cursing as he scrambled some eggs. 

He was shirtless, wearing his boxers only, and your eyes trained on the couch. You winced slightly because of your behavior from last night. You tried to jump his bones when he was trying to stop you, and you feel so pathetic and little for falling into that dark place. You had to apologize and thank him for everything. Your eyes trained on his back, and you felt your stomach flipping inside, or were they butterflies? Nerves? 

“Eds–”

You saw him jump and basically screech, making your eyes go wide as your hand covered your mouth, containing a snort at the display. He turned around to look at you, spatula in one hand, the pan on the other. 

“You fucking scared me Peach, I didn’t think you would wake up until later.” He sighed, letting the air he gasped in when he got scared out. You couldn’t help but smile as he turned around and continued cooking. “The eggs are almost done, and also, you have a four-bread toaster, now that’s fancy shit.” 

“I won it at one of my company’s raffles.” Your voice was calm, walking over to the island counter to sit on one of the stools. You rested your elbows on the marble and put your chin on your hands, and just watched him. You watched him move in your kitchen as if he had always done this. Acting as if this is a common thing you two do every time you hook up with eachother, but this is one of the rare times you two had breakfast together. 

“Oh, can you get me one?”

“You can literally buy it at any electronics store!” You giggled, and he turned around with a cheeky smile on his face that made you crumble a little in your seat.

“It feels better when you win something.” He turned around and turned off the stove, dumping the scrambled eggs on two plates that already had two pieces of toast each. You felt pressure in your chest, a good one, as he turned around and placed the plate in front of you before he opened the fridge, taking out water and juice. He sat on the counter after placing them in front of the two of you and he presented it with both his hands. “Ta-da!”

You smiled at the plate before you, sitting up straight as you grabbed the water to pour yourself some in your glass, as Eddie served himself some juice. It felt domestic. Right. 

“We’ll see how good these eggs are, Munson.” He huffed at you as he grabbed a toast and placed some of the eggs on it with a fork.

“I make the best eggs in all Indiana, sweetheart.” He boosted himself as he took a big bite. Your smile faded as you saw the bruises and the bandaids on his knuckles. You dropped your fork as your hands moved quickly to hold on to his hand, making him almost drop the toast. He winced as he tried to chew– “Easy.”

“You hurt yourself.” His eyes clashed with yours as your body turned completely on the stool to face him. He sighed as he swallowed the bite, getting his hand out of your grasp to put the toast down. 

“He got it worse. I’m sorry, I couldn’t… contain myself when I realized who he was. I couldn’t help it.” He wasn’t really looking at you, but his jaw was clenched and you knew he was still angry, which instead of confusing you, it only made you happy. It made you feel cared for by someone.

“So you… punched him to defend my honor?” You tried to play it off with a small chuckle, but his eyes turned to look at you, serious, filled with something you couldn’t really decipher.

“Every punch I delivered yesterday was not even close enough to what he deserves. What he did, what they did to you… you didn’t deserve any of that.” Your smile had fallen, your eyes burning as you kept staring at him. Your jaw clenched as you felt the beginning of a lump forming in your throat.

“You didn’t… have to do it… but thank you…” He softly smiled at you, giving you a small nod.

“Yeah… I’m kind of banned from going to Jonathan’s bar for a while though… he got mad at me, pretty bad.” He chuckled nervously, and you winced a bit, looking down at your hands, feeling guilty at the situation. He went silent for a second, and he was probably deliberating if to talk about this with you or not. “Robin told us… about why you’re going into training.”

Your blood went cold once again, the memories of yesterday coming back. The news you received. The opportunity those news gave you. The emotions you felt the day before were too much… too much that you crashed out.

“I… yeah…” Your voice was small and fragile. You hated that you sounded like this but– at the same time you didn’t care he was hearing it. You didn’t know why you didn’t care, but you just didn’t. His body turned to face you, his hands pressing on your knees as he leaned to talk to you. Your eyes found his and you suddenly felt… warm.

“It will happen for you…” He stared at you for a while before he continued, “Let’s make a deal.”

“A deal?” Your eyebrow perked up in question and he nodded, his face serious with a glint of mischief and something else.

“When we turn 30, and if we are single… I’ll give you one.”

Your world stopped for a second. Maybe two. Three? What was he saying? 

“I… what?” You were shocked, stunned, not really sure if what just came out of his lips was real or if you had hallucinated it. He gave you a fond smile, his teeth showing.

“If we are single when we turn thirty, I’ll sign any papers you need, and we’ll have a baby together.” Your eyebrows twitched as your eyes kept burning and your body was trying to react in a way that you couldn’t contain much longer. 

“Why… I– You would have a kid… You are willing to have a baby with me? You don’t have to feel… sorry for me…” You were trying to not let your voice crack at the prospect of it. He was promising you a baby. This man in front of you, your friend, your best friend, the man you are fucking in a recurrent manner is promising to give you a baby if the time came that you didn’t have one yet, and both of you were without a partner.

“I want kids. I want a family too someday, and I honestly– Don’t think…” He bit his tongue for a second before continuing, “And I think that you would be the greatest mom in the entire world, so… it’s a win win for me.” 

This is the first time you heard him say he wanted kids. This is the first time you heard him say he wants a family in the future, something you didn’t know at all. Something that was making you melt and crumble in your stool.

You didn’t know what this meant. You didn’t know what anything of what he was saying meant but you wanted to kiss him. You wanted to hug him and kiss him and– Was his heart racing the way yours was? His stomach nervously hurting like yours was? The hairs on his arms standing on end like yours were?

“Eddie, you… You are promising something– something so fucking huge.” His smile fell a little, and he nodded, his eyes staring into yours as he talked.

“And you are the only one I trust enough to make this promise to.” You slowly shook your head at him, thinking this was insane, but– you wouldn’t mind it. Having Eddie’s baby? It didn’t sound entirely wrong. Maybe not even a little bit wrong. 

“You’re… insane.” You couldn’t help it as you let out a snort, and he nodded, a chuckle escaping him. 

“Maybe… so, deal, Peach?” His eyes were sincere as they looked at you, and you realized he meant every single word. He meant everything he said. Everything he promised. Maybe it won’t happen. Maybe he gets a girlfriend or maybe you find… 

“Deal.” You responded quickly, and he smiled widely, straightening up and putting his hand out for you to shake. You took a deep trembling breath in as you smiled and shook his hand.

“Nice doing business with you, fair lady.” You giggled and shook your head, your hand holding his. You inspected his knuckles with your fingers and you slowly raised it up to your lips. You didn’t watch his reaction, but you felt him fall in complete silence as he sat still in front of you. You finally let a tear roll down your cheek as you brush your lips against his knuckles.

“Thank you…” You softly whispered, and he leaned forward, your breathing cutting short when you felt him press his lips against your forehead. You could combust in the spot as you felt warmth invade you, your body flushing completely from head to toe.

“Don’t mention it, sweetheart.” He pulled away and you let go of his hand, looking up at him.

“I’m also sorry… for my behavior… last night.” You were embarrassed as you spoke and he shook his head at you, letting you know he understood.

“It’s okay. You snapped out, which is what matters here.” You two stared at one another as he wiped the tear that fell from your eye and you just… wanted to kiss him. You wanted to hug him and hold him and… He cleared his throat as he turned towards his plate. “We should eat.” 

You nodded and turned to your plate as well, putting some egg on your toast and bringing it to your mouth. The toast wasn’t as crispy because it got cold now, as well as the eggs, but the taste was sublime, yet, you couldn’t not give him shit for it.

“Mmm… not bad.” Was your comment and Eddie turned to look at you as if he were the most offended person on the planet.

“You take that back and say they’re delicious. It’s not my fault they got cold!” You laughed at him as he kept telling you everything he did with the eggs, and everything felt so right. He wasn’t here to get lucky like all those other times. He wasn’t here because he felt like he had to. He wanted to. He wanted to be with you and cheer you up. 

And he did. You cleaned the dishes afterwards as he grabbed your erotica novels and started reciting paragraphs just to piss you off. You laughed as he made up the different voices, moaning when the book said it, or grunting stupidly, and you threw your wet right glove to his face. 

He gasped, rushing towards you so he could rub the glove on your face, making you squeal and try to push him away in disgust. You two laughed as the glove fell on the floor, his arms still holding you close to him. Your heart beat loudly in your chest as you breathed heavily, his face close to yours and you just… 

“I should go home…” He whispered, and you really wanted him to spend the day with you but you knew Robin was going to come to your house at lunch or even earlier, so you nodded slowly.

“Yeah… Robin might just… appear…” He gulped and your lip twitched as you felt your body burn wildly, and you wanted to kiss him. You needed to kiss him. Change the dynamic of your goodbyes, but what if he didn’t want that? What if you were reading all of this wrong? Were you?

But he beat you to it, his jaw clenching as he talked softly, his forehead pressing against yours.

“I don’t want anything… just…” You nodded desperately at him and he leaned forward to finally kiss you. It was soft, tender, and it made every single one of your worries leave your body. You didn’t know why he was kissing you, but you knew why you were kissing him back. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders to pull him closer as your lips smacked with one another’s.

He hummed in between the kiss and you felt his arms and hands holding you in a way you haven’t felt in a long while. You stayed like that for a few seconds before he begrudgingly pulled away, licking his lips as you looked at him, and you didn’t want to let him go, but you had to. 

“So… I’ll… see you later?” You asked, filled with hope, and he gave you a small smile, nodding slowly as he leaned to give you a soft peck on the lips, melting you on the spot.

“Yeah. I’ll message you later. Tell me if you need anything, okay?”

“You’ve done enough, Eddie…” He chuckled and shook his head at you.

“Okay, so I guess you won’t need my scrambled eggs anymore.” You gasped, shaking your head at him, and he smiled triumphantly. “Ah, so my eggs were, in fact, delicious.”

You rolled your eyes and shook your head, pulling away from him to flick him on the right nipple making him squeal and cover it. You saw him walk to your bedroom, and you probably didn’t even notice the pile of clothes he left on the floor or on the desk. You were just staring at his retreating back as you bit your bottom lip, wondering if you should ask him to just stay, to tell Robin to not worry and not come over but you knew that she would not have it. 

When he returned he was all dressed, feeling the keys in his pocket as well as his wallet and phone, making sure he had everything as you put the gloves to dry over the sink counter. You walked to the front door with him, opening the door as he looked at you with something that just told you it was right to do what you wanted to do. So you rose on your tippy toes to give him a peck on the lips to which he returned with another one.

“Bye Eddie… thank you again.” You couldn’t help but keep thanking him, and he took it, smiling down at you.

“Don’t mention it. Bye, Peach.” He walked out, and you waited for him to get to the elevator. He gave you a salute as he got inside and the doors closed before him. You let out a sigh you didn’t know you were holding in and closed your door, leaving you alone in your home once again. 

You rested against it, looking down at the floor as your heart beat to an incredible speed, your stomach filled with something you couldn’t deny were butterflies. Butterflies you have been feeling for a long while. Butterflies you faked by calling them nerves or anxiety or adrenaline whenever you saw him. 

He didn’t promise what he promised just because you were sad. He didn’t just make a promise in order to make you happy. He made a deal with you that felt true even if it’s years away and you don’t even know if Eddie Munson would still be in your life. But fuck, you hoped he did. You hoped he did and that you two would be in a different situation than you are right now.

Because you didn’t want to just hook up with him. It’s time you came to terms with that fact. You wanted to kiss him. You wanted to spend time with him. You wanted to invite him to dinner, watch movies with you, play games, and you were hoping that this new change meant something to him as much as it meant to you. 

And suddenly the troubles from yesterday were nonexistent. The troubles from yesterday and the memories were not as painful as they had hurt you the day before. You knew it was thanks to him. You knew that Robin would not have possibly made you feel the way you are today, and that is mean to say, but he filled the dark hole that resided in your mind. He knew what you needed when you didn’t even know it yourself. 

You needed him. In more ways than one could possibly imagine. You don’t know how you will tackle the relationship now that you came to terms with this. You don’t know how you should act or what you should say to him. You don’t know how to tell him you don’t want him to see someone else. You don’t know how to tell him you want him all for yourself. You don’t know how to tell him all of that without giving yourself away.

Because you’re fucked.

Because you like him.

You like Eddie Munson. You really like Eddie Munson.

end of chapter 21

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[hrrtshape]

congrats on your shift emmaaaa!!!!! you spent 15 days!! in your dr!!and only over an hour passed by here?!?!?!! how weird does it feel like to come back to find out that time in here didn't seemed to move but you spent literal days!!! in another life!! time is indeed an illusion but still the fact that in this cr 'an hour passed' I just wanna know if did it affect you in any way????

hi omg !!! just to clarify: when i shifted, i think it was about 1 in the morning in my cr and i woke up back in my dr at 12 am !! so technically i was out for 12 hours !!!

and to answer your question. . . will you be the same after shifting?

so i've been back for about two days as of right now, and....even though that amount of time may be insignificant, i can already tell you a confident hypothesis. the short answer: no. the long answer: also no, but with more syllables and a rapidly dissolving sense of self.

so !! i was gone for 15 days. two weeks and a spare. a neat little holiday from here, where time drags its feet like an exhausted child. and then, i came back. i came back, and everything was waiting for me exactly as i left it, except i wasn’t quite the same girl who left.

it's like stepping off a plane after a long-haul flight. your body is technically in the same time zone as your passport, but your soul is somewhere over the atlantic, clutching a complimentary orange juice and debating the morality of artificial lighting. you walk through the arrivals gate and expect the air to smell different. you expect your bed to swallow you whole the way it used to. but nothing accommodates the fact that you have changed.

you’re not just slipping between worlds; you’re shedding skins, trading selves. you spend days, minutes, hours, seconds, whatever being someone who fits perfectly into another life, someone whose name rolls off other people's tongues like a prayer or a curse, someone whose laughter is recognised in rooms that have never existed here. and then you blink. you’re back. but that other you, the one who thrived elsewhere... they doesn’t slot back into this reality so easily. they lingers.

maybe you come back expecting the world to have noticed your absence. maybe you expect your room to exhale, relieved at your return. but the walls are indifferent. your reflection blinks at you, unimpressed. and that realisation slithers in, slow and nevertheless the truth: everything is the same except for me.

you try to re-inhabit your old routines, but they fit strangely now, like a coat that shrunk in the wash. the coffee tastes different. the music grates. you catch yourself reaching for things that don’t exist here. names that no one knows. habits that belong to someone else. you were gone for this significant amount of time, but some part of you stayed behind. or worse. some part of there came back with you.

and the worst part?? you start to wonder if you should shift back just to feel real again.

you are real. both of you. all of you. every version of you that has ever existed, whether here or there, whether draped in silks or school uniforms or bloodied war paint. you are not less for having left. and you are not wrong for feeling dislocated now.

will you be the same after shifting back? no. but maybe that’s the point. maybe the girl who came back is supposed to be different. maybe she’s meant to carve a new shape, one that includes everything she’s seen, everything she’s felt, everything she refuses to forget.

and maybe, just maybe, that’s how you learn to exist here again. not as the person you were, but as the person who knows there is more.

is this a vent? yes.

[selfproclaimeddoctoroflove]

It was that time of the year it seemed. Dan Heng hadn't been a sociable person by nature, but he would never go as far as to lock himself in his room for a month, even refusing basic essentials like food and water from the express. Right?

Every time this had happened, it had seemed to take you by surprise. When you had gone to knock on his door to check on him, he had gruffly declined your invitations of conversations. At some points you would get so concerned that you would ask Himeko and Welt of they knew why this happened. Himeko would just laugh and welt would dismiss it. Pain in the ass.

But you were tired of not knowing. Of all the damn secrecy.

It had been a few weeks into his 'hibernation' as you called it, and you had confidently waltzed over to his room, banging on the door.

"Come on! Let me in! Or at least talk to me!" And although your voice was mainly flooded out by the rough banging of the door, you could still be heard fairly clearly. After a few moments of banging, your hands felt weak, and you were starting to get irritated from the lack of acknowledgment.

"Listen here if you dont open this damn door I'm going to--"

"Please.. Stop banging on the door, it's causing me a headache." Dan heng cut you threat short as his voice rang out, however it was clear he was heavily breathing. At His request, you promptly stopped banging on the door, though your irritation was still apparent. Who did he think he was? He finally spoke to you just to tell you to stop because you were worried? You were growing more furious as you balled up your fists.

"Are you serious? I've been so damn worried about you. You lock yourself in your damn room for weeks on end. How do you not expect me to start banging on your door?" You stated with a cold tone. Then you heard a breathy moan escape from the room. You stood in shock for a moment.. Moan... Locked in room.. Could he be?

"You masturbate for a whole damn month!?" You gasp at the thought of it. How the hell is that even possible? A month of non stop jacking off? He must be insane!

No sound was audible from the other side of the door until Dan heng spoke up again, "... Have you ever heard of heat?"

"Yea. Its the thing that makes you sweat."

"Not that heat. The kind where people get... You know..." His voice trailed off and the embarrassment was clear as glass.

"Oh. Your going through heat? That kind of heat... Well we're friends, right? Shouldn't friends help friends?"

And that's where it all went "up hill" (the hills not the only thing that went up, that's for sure.)

You were kissing Dan Heng ferociously like someone gone mad, trying to match his intensity, your lips were together like two ink smudges draw to close together, his hand slowly made itself a home on your waist as you straddled your legs around his lap.

"Aeon, I could just eat you whole.." He could hardly get his words out though, and had to make a effortless effort to try to pull away to speak, even though you both knew he'd come back to your lips like a starved man.

"You might not be able to eat me, but you sure can eat me out," you suggested through breathy moans, a sultry smile spreading across your face. You tightened your legs around his lap and moved to hands up to grab his face and coddle it with a intensity so that it seemed less like coddling and more like man handling.

By now the atmosphere was totally different from usual. Unlike the usual calm and soothing vibe of the room, the room was filled with unspoken desires and fantasies. Ones you have committed to fulfilling.

"Hah... Your right," his words came out in a low, dangerous whisper. It didn't take him to long to maneuver your pants off of you, leaving you in only soaked undergarments. "Your so wet..." he pointed out bluntly, using his thumb to circle your clit through your panties, making you loudly moan out in pleasure.

"Aren't you captain obvious.?" You shot out snarkily. With that, he moved your panties out of the way to directly touch your clit, moving his fingers around it and maneuvering your folds.

"If you keel talking like that, I won't do much more then this," he stated, still playing with your folds. He was incredibly skilled with his hands, having already made you moan out several times.

"Fine, I'm sorry... Please just.. Please.." Your voice was hardly audible however through the heights of pleasure you were reaching. You wondered if march could hear you.

Suddenly, he inserted a finger into your wet pussy, and due to how soaked you already were, his finger slid in like a knife through warm butter. Slowly he started to curl his finger. With his rich technique, he soon hit your G-spot, making you moan out uncontrollably in pleasure. As he slowly uncurled his finger, taking it out, there was a noticeable amount of sticky white cum on it. Underneath yourself, you could feel the sheets around your clit getting soaked with cum.

"Damn it.. I'm sorry, I didn't mean.." However your monologue was quickly cut short. "Don't stress it. I can get new bedsheets. And anyway, I should be thanking you." He said before licking the cum off his fingers, "let's do it again sometime."

[lazyveran]

post-canon grieving glinda needs to unhand me i cannot stop thinking about her

[gaysindistress]

Things that I feel like would happen when you’re in a relationship with Simon Riley.

Simon Riley masterlist

1. First off he hates the word ‘boyfriend’.

Maybe it’s because he’s in his mid thirties or something but he can’t stand being called your boyfriend. He’s more than that but also not at the same time. You live together, have access to each other’s bank accounts (which is only because he hates it when you try to fight him about him giving you money), and you’re each others emergency contact. He thinks of himself as your husband. The man wears a silicone ring when he’s home and a necklace with the ring that’s totally not a wedding band when he’s working. Price has seen the chain once or twice and smirks, shooting him a knowing look but never says a word.

Simon cannot stand it when people get nosy and want to know what your relationship status is. You’re together and that’s all that matters. No one needs to know that you’re the beneficiary of his will and life insurance policy or that he’s put you on all of his accounts. No one needs to know that he buys you anything you want but has only ever bought you two rings; a thin gold band with a flower engraved on it and its twin a matching emerald ring. No one needs to know that when he gifted them to you, there were tears and promises of safety, love, and happiness whispered against feverish skin. No one needs to know that he has your name woven into his chest tattoo.

No one needs to know any of that because your relationship is between him and you only.

2. You are not some submissive little house wife. You are a strong independent woman and he prefers it that way.

I know this one goes against what most people say but hear me out on this. Simon has been independent since birth practically. He’s only had himself to count on for years. Even in the military, he’s only been able to rely himself. Sure the others watch out for him but if it came down to it, he’s the only one who’s going to get himself out alive.

The thought of someone else relying on him in that way is terrifying. He can’t even fathom what it would be like to look at another person and fully trust them in that way. Half the time he feels like he can’t even be trusted to take care of himself let alone another human. In theory a sweet docile housewife is great with the meals and clean house but not for him. He needs to know that you can hold your own. He needs to know that you can be independent and carry on without him if something happened while he was working. He needs to know that you will be okay if he doesn’t come back.

You have to be okay without him no matter how much it pains him to think about it.

Like I said before, he’s made you the beneficiary of everything so he knows you’ll be set financially but that’s not enough. He’s made Price promise to keep an eye out for you. He’s made you promise to let Price do that and you agreed because it’s Simon who’s asking but you’d tell anyone else to fuck off.

In addition to all of that, he’s installed the best security system the government has to offer in your house. You have a very expensive and large safe in your shared closet that he’s instructed you to only open if you feel unsafe. While you might not like it, you agree to go shooting with him so he can sleep at night knowing that you could protect yourself if he’s not home. He’s gone as far as to make sure you have all of the licenses and certificates that are needed to legally own firearms in the UK.

He’s not leaving any opportunity for you to be vulnerable or have your ‘safety checks’, as he calls them, taken away.

3. Simon Riley is a godless man…until he meets you.

Now this is entirely my own headcannon with no evidence to support it so bear with me.

Simon had a shitty childhood where his mom would pray to a god who never listened and his dad would shout verses at him when he was drunk. God was a mythical figure that he was told stories off with nothing to show for it. He did believe at one point but then his dad never got better, his mom wore bruises of every shade, and his brother found comfort in drugs.

He found himself praying when he was being tortured by the Mexican cartel. Between the flashbacks of his abusive past, he prayed to a god who had failed him so many times before to help him. He prayed again as he dug himself out of that Texas grave with the major’s jaw bone. He wailed his prayers when he found his family executed after Sparks tried to kill him.

After that he deemed himself a Godless man. Years of praying had passed with nothing. This god had decided that Simon was not worthy of a miracle so why would he continue to worship him?

That was until he met you. He finds himself praying before every mission, every time he has to leave you, every time he’s on his way home, and just about any other time he thinks of you. He doesn’t know what exactly he’s praying for other than for you to be there when he gets back.

He whispers his prayers to an absent god against your skin as he worships your body, soul, and heart. He promises to be devoted to you until his last breath and vows to find you again in whatever afterlife awaits you. He pledges to find solace in you and only you when his haunting nightmares return. He makes an oath to your heart that it will never weather another storm alone again for his will take whatever beating that comes your way. He shows you that he will love you in the same manner as a Hozier song; putting you above all else because you have become his religion, his faith, his beliefs, his life.

You have become all that he is and he thanks the god he once believed in for you. He prays again but to you, his heart, his love, and his beacon through the enteral storm of life.

[cosmicdahlias]

I Like Hearing You Talk

Logan Howlett x Reader

MINORS DNI

You’ve pined for Logan since the day he came into your life. He makes you so flustered you can barely speak around him. After Wade interrupts your drunken moment together, you’re left feeling incredibly pent up and in desperate need of release.

tags: caught mid-masturbation, oral, face sitting, multiple orgasms, p in v, big dick hurts, rough sex, choking, creampie

y’all i got nothing to say this time, i’m just down bad for logan 😭

Living with Logan Howlett had proved to be… frustrating. For most this would be due to his incredibly abrasive personality, however for you it was for an entirely different reason.

You found him PAINFULLY attractive. He was rough around the edges, blunt, quick tempered, and would maul anyone with his foot long claws if they dared look at him wrong. All of these things should have scared you off, but it only made him more alluring.

Ever since your other roommate, Wade, had introduced him to you, it had been so hard to not feel that primal need deep within your core. You struggled to even form sentences when he talked to you. He didn’t just give you butterflies, he gave you the whole damn garden. So when he invited you to sit on the couch with him and share a few drinks you felt like you were going to spontaneously combust.

An hour had passed and even though the help of a little liquid courage made it significantly easier to talk to him, you were still very much flustered. You had been telling the story of how you and Wade met back in the days when he was still a merc-for-hire.

“But yeah, essentially I hired him to rough up my abuser, make him finally pay for all the shit he did to me.”

“What’d he do to the fucker?”

“Honestly what DIDN’T he do? He beat him so bad that from what I heard he could barely even crawl. Wade gave me one of his teeth, said it was ‘a souvenir of a job well done’.”

“Well was it? A job well done?”

“I mean he never bothered me again.”

“Good, but if he ever does decide to be enough of a dumbass to come near you just let me know and I’ll take care of it. Can’t guarantee he’ll still be breathing after I’m done with him though.”

“That might be going too easy on him.” You joked.

Logan chuckled and took a sip of his drink.

“You know it’s funny, this is the most I’ve ever heard you speak.” He said.

“Is that a good thing?”

“Yeah, I like hearing you talk.”

“Y- you do?” You stammered, your cheeks turning a dusty pink.

Logan tucked a lock of hair behind your ear.

“I really do.”

You felt your heart thump rapidly in your chest. Everything within you was screaming for you to kiss him, but your whole body felt like concrete, immobile. Logan took your cheek in his hand, coming in so close that his lips almost brushed against yours.

“Do I have to make the first move, babygi-“

Wade burst into the room and the two of you jumped back from each other.

“GUYS! YOU’RE NEVER GONNA BELIEVE WHO JUST GOT FRONT ROW TICKETS TO MADONNA! I MIGHT’VE HAD TO SELL A KIDNEY, BUT THIS HANDSOME MOTHERFUCKER REGENERATES SO I BASICALLY GOT THEM FOR FREE!” He shouted, sitting next to you on the couch.

The rest of the night was spent with Wade completely, and unknowingly, third wheeling you two and killing all possible sexual tension.

The next day your mind ruminated heavily on the night before, you had been so close to finally having his lips on yours. You played out in your head how differently things could’ve gone had Wade not interrupted. Images of Logan taking you, claiming you from every position consumed your thoughts. By the time you came home from work the overwhelming need to touch yourself was too much to ignore.

You quickly said “hi” to Logan and stole yourself to your room, undressing and lying back on the bed. You wasted no time letting your fingers move straight to your clit, your other hand caressing one of your breasts.

You closed your eyes and moaned softly, imagining Logan’s strong hands in place of yours. You allowed your mind to echo his voice uttering words of praise, telling you all the things you desperately wanted to hear from him.

“Mmmnn, Logan.” You whimpered as you felt yourself grow close.

At that very same moment your door swung open.

“Hey, you alright? I thought I heard- oh shit.” Logan said.

You jumped nearly a foot out of your skin and your eyes snapped open to the sight of him in the doorway. You quickly pulled the covers over yourself.

“FUCK! WAIT! I WASN’T- I- hold on, could you hear me?”

“Did you forget how thin the walls are?”

“Motherfucker.” You groaned.

Logan closed the door behind him and walked over to stand at your bedside.

“Now, my turn to ask a question with an obvious answer. Who were you thinking about?” He asked.

You felt your heart do a somersault.

“You really want me to say it?”

He cupped your chin, stroking your lips with his thumb.

“Yeah, I do.” He said softly, pulling down the covers to reveal your body.

His eyes looked you up and down with the intensity and hunger of a wild animal.

“You, Logan.” You said softly.

“Yeah? Then is this little pussy all wet because of me?” He asked, slipping a hand between your legs.

You nodded.

“Thought so.”

He dragged the pads of his fingertips along your wetness.

“Now, why don’t you finish giving me that little show I walked in on?” Logan instructed, leaning down to kiss you passionately.

You turned deep scarlet.

“Logan, I-“

“C’mon babygirl, you were so close.” He coaxed, taking your hand and guiding it down. “Are you gonna be good girl and cum for me?”

You drew circles against your clit and with a shudder felt the pleasure return to you. Logan watched you intently.

“Fuck, I can’t hold myself back, not with you looking like this. I need your mouth around my cock.”

Logan unbuckled his belt, unzipping his jeans and pulling out his intimidatingly massive cock. Your jaw dropped at the sheer size of him.

“Holy shit, Logan.”

“You good?”

“Yeah, my jaw might not be.”

Logan turned your head to face his throbbing cock.

“It’s alright, only take what you can handle.”

You went to take him past your lips when he stopped you.

“Wait, one second.”

He reached over you, turning your stuffed animal on the bed to face the wall.

“Logan Howlett, what a gentleman.” You laughed.

“Hey, I’m just protecting their innocence. Now c’mon, keep touching yourself and open that pretty little mouth for me.” He said.

Logan guided himself into your mouth and you took him down to the base of his shaft.

“Fuuuuck babygirl, no one’s ever gone all the way down before.” He groaned, tangling his fingers in your hair.

He bucked his hips against your face as you stroked your clit.

“How the fuck are you not choking on me? You ever sucked cock this big before?”

You shook your head with him still in your mouth, Logan chuckled.

“No? Guess you just got lucky to not have a gag reflex. God, you’re so fuckin’ perfect.”

You whimpered around him at his words, growing close.

“That’s it, keep going for me babygirl, yeah, yeah like that. Make yourself cum with my cock in your mouth.” He said as he throbbed against your tongue.

Your back arched off of the mattress as you felt yourself tip over the edge. Your moans were muffled by Logan’s cock buried deep in your throat.

“Jesus, you moaning like that feels too goddam good.” He grunted, giving one last thrust into your mouth before pulling out.

He watched as your orgasm subsided, the heaving of your chest slowly steadying. He lowered his hand between your thighs, slipping his fingers inside you and curling them against just the right spot to make you writhe underneath him. He pulled out his fingers, taking them in his mouth and giving a growl.

“I can’t fuckin’ resist, I need you to sit on my face. Just tasting you isn’t enough.”

He moved onto the bed and picked you up, lowering you to straddle his face. His hot breath lingered on you for a second before his mouth made contact with your clit. Having cum already, it wouldn’t take long for him to get you there again. You laced your fingers in his dark hair.

“Oh god, Logan.” You whined as you felt your orgasm build.

“Mmm, fuck.” He growled against your clit.

The deep rumble of his voice vibrated through you, making you gasp as you came again for a second time. Your grip on his hair tightened as every single wave of pleasure rippled through you, rolling your hips involuntarily on his face.

You panted breathlessly, the only words coming out of your mouth being “Ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmy-“

Logan took your hand in his.

“Hey, hey, easy babygirl. Breathe.”

He picked you up off of his face, lying you down on the bed. He shrugged off his flannel, pulling his white shirt from over his head and slipping his jeans off his legs. He returned his attention to you, lifting up your lower half by your thighs and slipping a pillow under your ass.

“What’s that for?” You asked.

“Makes me able to go even deeper and hit all the right spots. Trust me, I’ve been around for over two centuries which is more than enough time to figure out what feels good.”

“You know, I’ve always had a thing for older men, but you might be pushing it for me, Logan.”

He cocked an eyebrow and smirked.

“But there isn’t a gray hair on me, is there?”

“Yeah, and it’s honestly a shame you don’t age like the rest of us. You’d be damn good looking with some salt and pepper hair.”

“I think Wade said there’s a variant of me like that.”

“Well shit, I got the inferior model?” You teased.

“Watch it babygirl, or I might just have to fuck you hard enough to shut you up.”

“Is that a promise?”

“Only if you want it to be.” He said with a smirk.

Logan sat on his knees and pulled you by your hips to him, your legs against his chest. He pressed the head of his cock against the entrance of your pussy.

“I’ll start slow so it’ll be easier for you take me. Just tell me to stop if it’s too much. Alright?”

“Okay.” You said softly.

“Attagirl.”

He gingerly slid his way in. Despite his attempts to be gentle you still struggled to accommodate him. You winced and drew a sharp breath.

“Shhh, easy babygirl. You’re doing so well for me, but you need to relax if you want this to feel good.”

It was beyond attractive to see this side of him, so soft and affectionate. You knew only certain people had been privy to this. He buried himself to the hilt, pausing to let you adjust.

“I’m gonna start moving. Think you can handle it?” Logan asked.

“Y- yeah.”

“Good girl.”

Logan began to thrust at a gentle pace.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” He groaned.

Even though he was going slow it felt like he was ripping you in half, but it felt good, incredibly good. You wanted more, you needed to see how that raw, aggressive nature played out in the bedroom.

“Harder.” You whined.

Logan’s brow furrowed.

“Babygirl, you’re already struggling to take me as it is.”

“I know, but I want you to tear me apart. Fuck me like an animal, Logan.”

You felt him throb inside you.

“Fuck, why didn’t you let me walk in on you sooner?”

Logan increased his pace dramatically, fucking you with an animalistic intensity. By god did it hurt and you loved every second of it. Noises, a mix of pleasure and pain, escaped from your mouth. He cocked a brow at your yelps and whines.

“You doing alright there?” Logan asked.

“Y- yeah, h- hurts so good.”

“Goddam babygirl, you really do like it rough, huh? You’re gripping me like crazy. Here, I think this’ll help you relax a little.”

His hand moved to stroke your clit, drawing circles against the delicate, sensitive skin. You bucked your hips, taking his cock further inside you.

“Goddam, look at you, fuckin’ yourself back against me. Tell me how much you love this cock splitting you in half.”

He fucked you even faster, purposefully trying to make it harder for you to speak. All you could manage was a whimper.

“C’mon babygirl, you know I like hearing you talk.” He teased, slowing his pace slightly to let you answer.

“Y- you fe-el i- incredible, b- biggest I’ve e- ever h- had.”

“That’s my girl, so good for me.” He said, resuming his brutal rhythm.

You moaned at Logan’s praise and he felt you tighten around him.

“Oh you like that don’t you? You wanna be my good girl?” He smirked, knowing he’d found your weakness.

“P- please.” You murmured.

“Good, because you’re fuckin’ mine now.”

The sound of Logan’s hips meeting yours reverberated throughout the room. He grunted at every thrust, sliding his cock out until only the tip remained inside and then sharply forcing himself back in again, making you take every single inch. His nails on the hand that wasn’t on your clit dug into your calf.

“Choke me.” You begged.

He let out a deep chuckle.

“Damn babygirl, aren’t you just a little masochist? How could I say no when you’ve been such a good girl for me?”

With one hand still on your clit, Logan wrapped his other around your throat, squeezing it tight. You let out a strained moan.

“Yeah, makes things feel even better, doesn’t it?” He purred.

Between the feeling of Logan’s hand gripping your neck, his fingers stroking your clit, and being fucked hard and fast by a cock thicker than a beer bottle, you felt your orgasm begin to build. Logan was right on the edge as well.

“Fuck, I’m so close. You gonna cum too, babygirl?” He asked, releasing your throat.

“Y- yeah, I’m- oh g- god.” You whined.

“Good girl, cum with me.”

His words were all it took. Your breathing becoming shallow and fast as you felt yourself come undone, pulsing around him. Logan groaned, burying himself deep within you, his hot, thick cum coating your insides.

“Jesus fuuuuuckin’ Christ, you feel so perfect.” He panted as he gave his last few thrusts.

You whimpered as Logan slowly pulled out and laid beside you, pulling you to him with your head against his chest. You both lay in silence for a moment, him stroking your back before finally speaking.

“You know, when I offered to have drinks with you last night I thought you’d take the hint. I was really banking on you at least kissing me, before Wade killed the mood and all.”

“I wanted to, I just…” You trailed off.

He raised an eyebrow.

“Just what?”

You fidgeted with the hair on his chest.

“I dunno, I just feel like you’re way out of my league. You’re incredibly handsome and I’m… me.”

He gave a chuckle.

“I’m sorry, but that’s the stupidest goddam thing I’ve ever heard, and that says a lot because we live with Wade. Babygirl, do you not see how fuckin’ gorgeous you are?”

You felt your cheeks turn pink.

“You think so?”

He kissed the top of your head.

“Of course I do, been dreaming of this since I met you. Not gonna lie, wanting you as badly as I did when you were too nervous to even talk to me was kinda torture. There was a few times you almost walked in on me the same way I did with you.”

“O- oh.”

“Yeah, it’s uh… it’s been a while since someone’s made me feel like this. When you live in a world where everyone hates you there isn’t much opportunity for even just casual fucking.”

You looked up at him.

“Sounds lonely.” You said softly.

Logan kissed your forehead.

“Doesn’t matter now that you’re finally talking to me.”

“If you’re referring to what we just did, you’ve got a weird idea of what talking is.”

“Yeah? Then how about we continue our conversation?” He said, turning you over onto your back and kissing his way down your body.

“Very smooth, Logan.”

[fireinmoonshot]

your fiyero | fiyero tigelaar x reader

Pairing: Fiyero Tigelaar x Reader Summary: Ever since Fiyero Tigelaar started at Shiz University, he found himself fascinated by you – the one student who didn't care about him. When he notices you starting to struggle with something, he'll do anything to make sure you're okay. Warnings: Mentions of fainting, falling over, academic stress/burn out Word Count: 2.2k A/N: I've seen Wicked (the show) three times now with the amazing Australian cast that's currently touring and I fell totally head over heels with Fiyero, and then yesterday I saw the movie and fell even more in love with Fiyero and so I had to write for him. I do intend to write more for him, especially if other people want to read more! He's so fun to write for and definitely a challenge compared to some other characters I've written for in the past. I hope you all enjoy! 💗

It’s not difficult to sense the presence of Fiyero Tigelaar behind you as you leave Doctor Dillamond’s classroom, shoving your books into the bag over your shoulder. With the way the students heading into the classroom are staring at someone behind you, it’s quite obvious who they’re staring at. Everyone at Shiz University wants Fiyero Tigelaar. 

Everyone, that is, except you.

“Classes are over, you know?” Fiyero’s voice comes from behind you as you round the corner, heading down the staircase leading to the courtyard. “You don’t have to rush off.”

Irritatingly, the fact that you can’t particularly care less about wanting Fiyero Tigelaar makes himwant you. He usually isn’t the type. If someone doesn’t like him – something he’s actually yet to experience – he would just let it slide. Why waste his energy? But ever since he’d started at Shiz and met you, he’d found himself unable to leave you alone. 

“I know,” you glance back at him over your shoulder. “But some of us actually want to study and spend their time here learning, Tigelaar.”

Fiyero hurries his steps a little so he’s walking alongside you. “Did you miss the part where I said it was my job to corrupt my fellow students when I started here? It’s never too late, darling.” He flashes a grin your way.

You can’t help but roll your eyes at him, right at the same time you almost miss a step and stumble a little. Fiyero is quick, catching your elbow to help steady you. You don’t look at him as you steady yourself, meaning you miss the look of worry in his eyes.

“Are you all right?”

You clear your throat and shake off his grip. “Consider me corrupted by your presence.” 

With that, you make a beeline away from him and you’re glad to notice that he doesn’t attempt to follow you. You highly doubt that he’s going to follow you all the way to the library. Fiyero and the library have never exactly gone hand in hand. 

~~

The next time Fiyero bothers you, you’re sat on one of the benches by the gardens. There’s a book in your hands and he can see you staring intently at it as he saunters over to you. It’s almost like he’s approaching a wild bird or something, he thinks. If he moves too quickly, he’ll frighten you and scare you away. It’s the last thing Fiyero wants to do.

He’s a few steps away from you when you look up from your book and meet his eyes. His face breaks into a smile as he moves the last few steps and takes the spot beside you on the bench. You turn to look at him, your eyebrows raised. 

“Now, don’t say I’m interrupting your study,” he begins. “That book is most definitely not in the curriculum. And yes, I did actually take the time to look the curriculum up after I saw you reading here the other day, if you can believe it.”

For a few moments, you only stare at him. Fiyero, for the first time probably ever, finds himself actually a little uncomfortable at your unwavering gaze. It surprises him. He’s never the type of person to feel uncomfortable. He’s confident in almost every situation.

You let out a sigh. “It may not be in the curriculum, but you’ve interrupted me nevertheless, Tigelaar.”

“Apologies,” he says, with a small smirk. “Am I corrupting you even more with my presence?”

“Something like that.” You close your book and sit it on the small space of bench beside you. You had actually just been reading the same page over and over for the last twenty minutes and trying to convince yourself to stop overthinking things. 

You had so much studying to do, so much to learn and so many assignments to do and so little time to do it all. It was probably a little counterproductive to be sitting outside, reading a book and doing none of those things, but if you didn’t try and have a break from them all, you were pretty sure you were going to burn yourself out, which was the last thing you needed. It would have helped if you’d actually been able to relax and enjoy your book, though.

“Is it any good? Your book. Not that I’d read it, of course,” Fiyero grins.

You try your best to conceal your amusement. “I’d offer to lend it to you but, as you said, you wouldn’t actually read it so… I’ll keep it safe with me. I doubt the Winkie Prince knows how to properly take care of books if he can’t read them.”

Fiyero gasps jokingly. “I’ll have you know I can read, I just choose not to. I prefer to fill my brain with much more useless things. That way, I don’t have to think. It’s a peaceful way to live, my darling.” 

You shake your head, this time unable to keep a smile off of your face. Fiyero likes the sight of it. It strangely makes his heart beat a little faster. He can’t actually remember the last time he saw you smiling… not that he’s been keeping track. 

“How about you join me?” He offers. “No more studying for the rest of the day and no more thinking? I’m positive I could find something we could do to fill the time.” 

The reminder of studying, however, brings you back to reality after you small moment of joking with Fiyero. You reach down and grab your book before standing up and turning to face Fiyero, who is looking at you with slight concern in his eyes at your sudden movement.

“I can’t,” you say simply. “I’ve been reading all morning and there is a lot I have to do. I’ll see you around, Tigelaar.”

He watches you with furrowed eyebrows as you walk away from him, clutching your book to your chest and heading in the direction of the library. Fiyero shakes his head and lets out a small laugh. He really thought today would be the day he’d win you over.

~~

A week goes by without Fiyero even getting to utter a word to you. He sees you, though, fairly often around the school. In the courtyard, in the library (where he definitely didn’t go specifically looking for you), in history class and in the dining hall. But every time he’s thought to approach you, you’ve disappeared before he could even make his move. It’s on the seventh day when he notices that something is different about you.

You’re coming out of the library, carrying several books and what looks like a stack of papers in your hands when you trip. Fiyero isn’t quick enough to cross the courtyard and get to you in time to stop your fall. He does, however, take off at a run to be by your side as you start collecting all of the scattered pieces of paper and books that had fallen out of your grasp.

“It’s all right, Tigelaar. You don’t have to help me,” you mutter, trying to shove books into your already overfilled bag. “It’s a Friday night. I’m sure you’ve got other places to be.”

Fiyero, truthfully, does have other places to be. He’s been invited to the Ozdust Ballroom by nine separate people today. But how can he leave you to just clean all this up by yourself? He can see just by the look on your face that you’re utterly exhausted.

“I do,” he says honestly. “But I’ll help you with this first.”

He’s surprised when you suddenly stop putting things in your bag and when he looks up, he finds you staring at him again. It makes him uncomfortable in the same way he felt last week when you’d looked at him in a similar way. 

“Okay,” you sigh. 

Your lack of energy in fighting him is the second thing to make Fiyero realise something is wrong.

After the two of you finish picking up all of the things you’d dropped, the both of you stand. Fiyero opens his mouth to say something when he notices you start to sway. He’s quicker this time, moving to catch you before you fall. His arm wraps around your waist to keep you steady, while his other hand takes the book bag off your shoulder and moves it straight onto his. He’s surprised by how heavy it is. 

“Woah, darling, what’s going on?” Fiyero looks down at you as you blink and push yourself away from him. “Hey, be careful, okay? I think you were just about to faint.”

You shake your head. “I just stood up too fast, that’s all.” You know the words are a lie, and you can tell that Fiyero knows that as well. First, he’d seen you trip coming out of the library, then he’d caught you when you’d almost fainted… you can’t hide it from him. That much becomes crystal clear immediately.

“Let’s get you somewhere you can sit down, okay?” Fiyero begins. “May I?” He gestures to you, asking silently if he can wrap an arm around you to support you incase you fall over again. 

You nod and allow him to guide you just around the corner into the small seating area off to the side of the library. It’s dark, the lanterns not being lit yet despite the fact that the sun had gone down over twenty minutes ago.

“I swear I’m not usually this clumsy,” you say sheepishly. “That’s twice you’ve stopped me from falling in the last two weeks… I suppose I should say thank you, Fiyero.”

Fiyero sits you down gently on the bench and sits your book bag down on the ground. He crouches down in front of you and reaches up to take your hands in his. He’s surprised when you don’t immediately pull away from him. “I don’t think you’ve ever called me by my first name before.”

“Oh,” you think on it for a second, trying to ignore the warm feeling of his hands and how comforting it is. “I guess I haven’t. Sorry, Tigelaar.”

“No, no,” Fiyero shakes his head. “Don’t go back to that. I like when you call me Fiyero.”

“Well, I suppose it is your name,” you offer a small smile.

“There’s that gorgeous smile,” Fiyero smiles back at you and squeezes your hands. “Now, are you gonna tell me why you almost just fainted on me and why you’re clumsier than you usually are, darling?”

You stay silent for a few moments and just when Fiyero begins to think that you might just brush him off and try to make a quick exit like you did last week, you start to speak.

“I haven’t really been sleeping well lately,” you admit quietly. “I’ve had so much work to do, I fell behind on my assignments and I took on some extra work from Doctor Dillamond and… despite my best efforts, I guess I let myself get a little burnt out.”

Fiyero looks at you with his eyes full of pity and you hate it. 

“Anyway,” you clear your throat, “that’s not important. Why would you care?”

Your attempt to make light of the situation fails spectacularly, judging by the look that Fiyero gives you afterwards. You’ve never seen him look that unimpressed before. 

“Of course I care,” he says, eyebrows furrowed. 

“Why, though?” You can’t help but ask. “Why are you so fixated on me?”

Fiyero sighs and moves to sit beside you, letting go of your hands in the process. “If you’ll allow me to be honest with you for a moment,” he starts, “I suppose… you’re the only person at Shiz that doesn’t treat me like the perfect Winkie Prince that everyone thinks I am. You’re the only person that doesn’t think I’m perfect, and half the time you act like you can’t stand to be around me, and for some reason that only makes me want to be around you more.” 

“Are you not the perfect Winkie Prince?” You ask.

Fiyero grins. “Oh, not in the slightest, darling. But let’s keep that between us. I’ll keep your secret if you keep mine. How does that sound?” 

You don’t even try to hide the smile that comes to your face at his words. “You promise you won’t tell anyone about what happened today?”

“I promise,” he nods. “But only on one condition: you tell Doctor Dillamond you can’t complete the extra work you signed up for and you take a break to make sure you get plenty of rest before diving into your other assignments. I’m sure I can sweet talk some of the Professors if you need help.” 

He smiles as you hit him with the same look as before, but for the first time, he doesn’t find himself feeling uncomfortable at the sight of it. Now, he finds it slightly amusing and incredibly endearing. He has always found you endearing, he supposes.

“Sweet talking my Professors will not be necessary,” you chuckle. “But okay. It’s a deal. And I’ll keep your secret too. You can continue to be the perfect Winkie Prince to everyone… except me.”

Fiyero laughs. “I’ll just be your Fiyero, then.”

“My Fiyero?” You repeat after him, eyebrows raised. 

He ignores the way his heart beats faster at the sound of those words coming out of your mouth. 

“Yes, your Fiyero,” he hums. 

“Everyone will think that you finally corrupted me after all this time,” you joke, voice teasing. “I’ll just be like everyone else at Shiz. Part of the Fiyero Tigelaar fan club.”

Fiyero fixes you with a look. “Oh, darling. You could never be like everyone else.” 

[airybcby]

Did You See Me On TV?

( bllk boys and being in a long distance relationship )

a/n — thought about this and just HAD to write. no long distance relationship experience, but def some long distance friendship experience. rather short, but i had to get it out.

content — fem! reader, set in the ' Neo Egoist ' era, some characters repeated, all characters 18+, angst, fluff, maybe some ooc for some people??, nicknames 'love' , 'babe' , 'baby' , ' my girl ' , and 'sweetheart' used

synopsis — yes, he's a world famous soccer player, but he's also your boyfriend. how does this effect your relationship?

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆ ' you tell yourself it's fine, ' ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆��₊✧ the... ' radio silence '

it's been a month since your boyfriend had left to go play for the soccer team he'd been assigned to, and what had you heard from him?

...complete and utter silence.

you understood he was busy now, you really did, but he hadn't even called while he'd been gone. any text he sent was no more than 3 words.

you were still in love with him, but was he in love with you anymore? had he forgotten all about you? was there another girl that was better than you?

the promise the two of you had made before he left sat on your tongue like lead now.

" you'll come back whenever you can, right? " you'd asked him. " for you? always. i couldn't imagine a life without you. i promise i'll call every chance i get. "

you stared at your phone, the text you'd sent him before his game started staring back at you...mocking you.

you: good luck, love!! i'm rooting for you from home! i love you, have fun, don't get hurt. call me when you can <3

it was almost pitiful. three almost exact texts sat above that one, and he hadn't even bothered to read them until after the game, simply replying with a...

him <3 : thanks

and no, if you were wondering, he hadn't ever called you.

and here you were, like a fool, curled up in your bed watching his game on live TV, watching as he made his second goal of the day.

maybe, just maybe, he'd call you after this one.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ SAE ITOSHI, isagi yoichi, RIN ITOSHI, oliver aiku, OTOYA EITA, rensuke kunigami

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the... ' a complete mess '

he'd been gone a month, and you can't count a single day he hasn't called you three times at minimum. you'd been together for a while, but you never realized how much he relied on you to do basic everyday tasks for him.

"babe? do you know where i usually keep my long socks?" you heard come from your phone speaker as you were trying to do your own homework, mind you.

" usually in the middle of your top drawer next to your underwear. unless you've changed it. " you stated, he'd asked you this question every single time he had a game since he had left, but you wouldn't dare expect him to remember that.

" you're the best, baby. what would i do without you? " your boyfriend asked as he pulled socks out of his drawer, propping his phone up on the bedside lamp as he slid the socks onto his feet.

" lose your head, probably. " you joked, looking up from your work to admire him.

yes, everyone got to see him as the big, bad soccer player on TV, but with you? he seemed like a completely different person, not someone who could get a hat trick and also simultaneously asking where their phone is while it's in their hand.

" your games soon, love. you gotta get going. " you helpfully reminded him, as if you were his personal alarm ( you were but that's besides the point )

" ah crap, thank you baby. i'll call you after i win," he said cheekily. " i'll score a goal just for you, so make sure you watch!"

" you know i will. call you later, i love you. " you reflected his smile through the phone. " i love you too! " he repeated. and just as you were about to press the 'end call' button...

"oh, baby? do you remember where i put my jersey?"

yeah, without you he'd be a train wreck.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ NAGI SEISHIRO, bachira meguru, HIORI YO, gin gagamaru, ZANTETSU TSURUGI, ranze kurona

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the... ' basically married '

it'd been a month since your boyfriend had left to go play professional soccer, and out of the four games he had played, you'd been flown out for three of them.

" do you like it? " he asked giddily, as if he was a child on christmas morning waiting to open presents. but instead of a gift, it was him showing you the hotel room he'd gotten you so you could watch his game this week too.

" you're too sweet to me, love. i would've been happy just sitting at home and cheering you on from there. " you told him. " nope! you're no longer allowed to watch the games from home," he said as if it was a fact.

oh, soccer players and their superstitions.

" even the whole team agrees! my girl is our lucky charm! "

the one game you missed, because you had a big test may i add, they lost. it wasn't a horrible loss, no, they went into additional time and lost 5-4.

your shock and confusion must have been written all of your face, because he just laughed. " c'mon sweetheart, why don't you just come live with me here ? "

many reasons, actually. you still had school, it was across the world (not really but it felt like it ), your family, your friends.

he knew all of this, of course. there usually wasn't a day that you seriously considered it. considered being here, with him, instead of having to facetime and miss him.

one day, you would, but not now...you think.

"oh, hush. you gotta get going, you have a game to win." you huffed, pushing at his shoulder to hopefully get him going out the door.

"alright, alright. i'll come back with you after the game, sweetheart. i love you, see you after my win! "

and win he would, because he swore to himself that if he won this game the velvet box that was hiding in his dresser would finally be able to come out.

but, hey, even if he didn't win, would you say no to the ring he had custom made for you?

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ REO MIKAGE, isagi yoichi, YUKIMIYA KENYU, chigiri hyoma, nijiro nanase, BARO SHOEI

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆ ' you're just in love ' ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

this was really written on a whim, but i hope yall liked it!

likes, comments, and reblogs appreciated!

[unequivocallyreid]

Why Didn’t You Tell Me?

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

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

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

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

wc: 8.8k 🤗

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay, okay, I’ll try.”

She nearly bursts with excitement, “Thank God-“

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

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

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

“Make sure he eats!”

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

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

“Spencer? It’s Y/n.”

There’s no response.

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

Again, nothing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Spencer,” you call out to him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s not fine dining.”

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

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

You smile at his recollection.

“It helped you then.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please stay.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~

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

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

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

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

The sign comes the following morning when Derek calls you.

“Y/n…”

You can hear his teasing tone over the phone.

“Hi, Derek.”

“What are you doing, mamas?”

You sigh, “What do you mean?”

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

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

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

“I know you do, Y/n, I know.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Spencer?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Maybe I don’t want to.”

A ringing echos in your ears.

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

Wrong thing to say.

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

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

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

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

You’ve never heard him sound so angry.

“Spencer-“

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

The ringing in your ears is louder.

“Spencer, please. Just-“

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

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

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

~

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m back if that’s okay.”

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

“Are you okay with that, Y/l/n?”

You lock eyes with him, “Yes, sir.”

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

“Alright, conference room in five.”

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

~

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

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

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

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

You sigh, “Whose going, Pen?”

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

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

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

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

Maybe you don’t have the energy to argue, or maybe you know she’s right, but you agree to go.

~

The thought of seeing him makes your heart race, and the clock you keep glancing at makes it worse. Just a few more hours before you're trapped in a confined space (Pen’s beautiful home) with a man you haven’t spoken to in weeks.

You busy yourself with preparing. Lights are hung, food is made, and you make a trip to the store while Pen sets up her remembrance table. When everything is said and done, you can’t help but feel this is the most beautiful thing you’ve been a part of in a long time.

The first knock comes at 7:30 exactly, and it’s Hotch and Rossi. They are followed closely by Blake, then Derek and JJ. By 7:00, the atmosphere is light and loving, and you feel a bit of your anxiety let up as the minutes go by without Reid. But, eventually, the knock comes, of course it does, and you move into a corner as Spencer walks in. You feel a shift in energy, though you doubt it’s palpable for anyone else. Rossi is the first to make his way over to you, and his presence comforts you nearly immediately.

“How you doing, kid?” His voice is soft like he’s speaking to a scared rabbit.

“I’m better,” you say, and it’s about as honest as you can get. As much as you’d like to think he knows nothing about what’s gone on, you’re smarter than that. He’s the best profiler on the team, and he’s always known when someone was off with you. Even so, you are better than you were, even if you aren’t quite good, and you know he believes you.

There’s some idle conversation between you before he asks, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not tonight. I don’t know when, but I will. Eventually, I will.”

It’s good enough for him, and you move on easily, which surprises you.

Right before Pen gathers you all to present your photos, he says, “Sometimes we think we’ve seen the whole picture, but we miss a big part. People do things because they don’t want to be hurt, but those things hurt them more. Just, be open.”

You don’t quite understand what he means, but you hope you will.

Penelope presents the first picture, which shows her parents. JJ honors her sister, Derek, his dad, Hotch Haley, and Rossi, Hernandez; then it’s your turn. You place down a photo of your best friend. You hadn’t talked much about her, but you think of her daily. She passed a few years before you joined the BAU.

“I was lucky to have someone that hurt that much to lose.”

That’s all you say, but it’s enough for you, and it would be enough for her.

Spencer is last. He places down a picture of Tesla and a picture of Maeve. Your heart is heavy for everyone.

The night dwindles from there. Hotch and Rossi say their goodbyes, and Rossi gives you a knowing look as he leaves. You just smile. You stay for a few minutes after, but eventually, you move to leave as well.

You make it down Garcia’s porch before you feel a hand grab your arm. You turn, and it’s Spencer’s face you see.

“Would you- Do you think you could come over? Do you think we could talk?”

~

The feeling you have walking up to Spencer's apartment is similar to what you felt the last time. You’re incredibly anxious, but at least you know you’ll be let in this time.

The drive over was silent. Spencer had taken the metro to Penelope’s, so he rode with you. It wasn’t necessarily awkward. There was just an understanding that the car wasn’t the place to begin your conversation.

Now, as Spencer unlocked his door, it’s one of those rare moments you felt starved for words, and you know it’s because you’re scared you’ll say the wrong thing and face the same reaction that you did the last time you were in his home.

He leads you to his living room and motions for you to sit, and you do. The two of you are on opposite ends of his couch while you wait for him to say something.

His first words are airy and light, “Thank you for letting me talk to you.”

You look at him but remain silent, waiting for him to go on. All you can think about is why he wants to speak to you at all. The last time you spoke, he made it incredibly clear he did not want you in his life or around him at all.

Before you can think about it more and let your anger and sadness build, he speaks again, “I feel really stupid right now. I kind of feel stupid whenever I’m around you recently.”

He pauses momentarily before going on, “I’m so, so sorry, Y/n. About the last time we spoke. I’ve been thinking about it pretty constantly for the past few weeks.”

You open your mouth, unsure of what exactly to say, but you can’t get there before he’s off again.

“I’m not sure how to talk to you anymore. I don’t think I’ve known how to for a long time. I just, I need you to know how sorry I am for speaking to you like that.”

He takes a shakey breath but keeps going, “That wasn’t me, and that isn’t how I feel. I’m just unbelievably sorry, Y/n.”

He stops there, and you work to collect your thoughts.

“I know. A part of me knows, at least, that you didn’t mean it. I just wanted to be there for you, and hearing that made me- I just- I think it made me hate myself for wanting to be there.”

“I’m so sorry. I’m unbelievably sorry.”

“You didn’t talk to me for months, Spencer. I just don’t understand. I don’t understand why you let me in in the first place. I thought you hated me.”

He’s silent for a long minute.

“I never hated you, Y/n. I just stopped knowing how to act around you, and then I met Maeve. I fell so deep into it that I couldn’t talk to anyone about it. I- And I just started to feel like you didn’t want me to speak to you, so I didn’t. But, when you came here, after everything, I guess I just felt like you were the only person who would get it. You never, no one on the team ever treated me or talked to me how you did. I just wanted that.”

Tears had begun to well in your eyes now. A part of you gets what he means, at least about letting you in, but the other part is so confused as to why he stopped being comfortable around you.

“I don’t understand, Spencer. Why did you stop knowing how to be around me?”

There’s desperation in your voice that makes you sound like a stranger to yourself. Maybe you’re a stranger to everyone right now.

“I uh, I don’t really know.”

“That's not fair, Spence.”

You’re crying now. Just a little bit, but you can feel the wetness on your cheeks. You can see that you are by the look on his face. He looks broken, and you know it's a reflection of your own image.

You wipe your face, “Thank you for apologizing, Spencer. I just, there are parts of this all that I don’t understand, and if you can't explain them to me, I don’t think I ever will.”

“Y/n-,” he calls out your name like a prayer.

“It’s okay, Spence. You don’t have to say anything more. We talked, and things will go back to how they were eventually.”

“I’m so sorry, Y/n.”

You smile sadly as you get up to leave.

“I am, too, for what it's worth. For whatever I did to make things change in the first place.”

You leave it at that, and it takes everything in you not to look back as you leave his apartment.

~

Things do get easier after that. Not completely. You still love him, and it hurts, but it helps to know he doesn’t hate you. He talks to you some, cordial things, and you do the same. You're sure your teammates still sense something is off, but this works for you. Right now, it works. Getting over him, not loving him anymore, is going to take work, but eventually, you know that you won’t hurt anymore.

Shortly after you and him talked, you started going back out with your friends. Spencer joined periodically, but that was normal. Bars were never really his scene.

Tonight, everyone gathers at your local pub. Your last case was particularly grueling, and you all need a way to blow off some steam. It's fun, and you feel good, even with Spencer sitting across from you. You feel proud of yourself for getting to this point.

JJ and Penelope feed you drinks to try and get you to dance, and you let them. Tonight feels as good of a night as any to ‘get back out there’ as Pen says. So, you do. You dance with them, and you ward off the other cops and agents around you who try to pull you away from your group. You aren’t interested in that. Right now, you're just having an appropriate amount of fun for a woman 15 feet from her boss.

Time goes by quickly, and by the time you get back to the table, you, Derek, Penelope, and JJ remain. He tells you that Hotch, Rossi, Reid, and Alex left a few minutes before. The conversation between you flows for a while, up until the drinks loosen Penelope up enough to bring up what you were pretty sure the team designated a no-no topic.

“Y/n, you have to talk about it.”

You’re still laughing as something Derek said when you reply, “What?”

“You know what. You and Boy-Genius. What on Earth happened? You went from ice-cold to semi-friendly. None of us saw it coming.”

“Babygirl-,” Derek tries to stop her, but you cut him off.

“No, it’s okay. I have to talk about it at some point, and I think right now is the only time I’ll be tipsy enough to let you get it out of me.”

You're still laughing slightly, but the pit that's lived in your stomach for the past few months starts to rear its head.

“After your Day of the Dead party, he asked to talk to me. I went to his place, and he apologized. I don’t really understand what he said or what he meant, but I can’t be sad about him forever.”

Pen perks up a bit at that, “I knew that party would bring good things!”

You giggle a bit at her outburst, but then JJ asks, “What did he say?”

The faces around you all tune in at that. You know they don’t see this as gossip. They care about you both too much to trivialize it like that.

“He just said that he stopped knowing how to act around me, and he didn’t know why, but then he met Maeve, and I guess it didn’t matter so much after that. He was my best friend, and then he was nothing.”

JJ shares a glance with Derek and then speaks, “Oh, Y/n.”

“What?”

After a beat, Derek says, “He didn’t just not know how to act around you.”

Now you're confused, “What do you mean? I talked to him, that's what he said. He didn’t know why. I mean, he knows everything and didn’t know why he didn’t want to be around me anymore. How fucking stupid is that.”

You laugh again, but it does come off as genuine in the slightest.

“Y/n, he probably doesn’t really know why. At least not fully. For someone as smart as he is, the kid can be really stupid.”

“Stop being cryptic.”

Derek sighs but goes on, “Pretty girl, pretty boy was in love with you. Probably still is. He just didn’t think you’d ever feel the same.”

“No. That's not true.”

You look at the others around you, but their faces are serious.

“He loved Maeve. He loves Maeve. That, that doesn’t make any sense.”

It's JJ’s turn to talk now.

“He definitely did love Maeve, no one is denying that, but we all saw how he was around you. His whole relationship with her was safe. He couldn’t be hurt by her rejection every day because he had no way of seeing her. With you, he could.”

Your mind is moving a mile a minute, “Did he tell you guys this?”

Penelope puts her hand over yours and says, “He didn’t have to, love. We all say the way he looked at you and acted around you. The way he talked about you. That boy was head over heels.”

“Guys, I appreciate whatever you’re trying to do, but this isn’t real. Spencer doesn’t- this is not real.”

“Y/n, pause. Think about the way he acted around you, the things he said. Think about how Reid is.”

You hear what Derek said, but it all sounds faint like someone stuffed your ears with cotton while you weren't paying attention. All you can focus on are the different scenes running through your head, the scenes of your life with Spencer in it. How he memorized your coffee order and brought it for you every day, how he never shied away from your touch despite his aversion to contact, how he consistently went out of his way to protect you on the field. At his house after everything, the way he clung to you and wanted to be held. How he said in his own words, “You can't be what I need”; not “you aren’t,” but “you can’t.”

Your whole world is crashing down in this bar, and you can’t do anything to stop it.

“Y/n?”

JJ’s voice snaps you out of your spiral.

“Just go talk to him.”

You nod mutely, and you get up.

~

Everything in the last ten months of your life has led you to the exact spot you were when everything blew up in the first place: Spencer’s door.

This time, you aren't too worried about him not letting you in. If anything, it's the opposite. Him opening this door could open a hundred others, and you don’t quite know if you are ready for any of them. You sit there and sit there and sit there, trying to work up the courage to knock, though you aren’t sure it's there to begin with. Right as you're about to walk away and decide you’ll come back another day, his door swings open.

“Y/n?”

His face is lit up with shock, and you notice his hand that is not on the door is holding his pistol.

“What are you doing here?”

You don’t answer, “Why did you open the door?”

He sets his piece down on the entry table before responding, “I heard footsteps in the hall and saw they stopped here. I was anxious. 50.3% of home invasions happen between 8:00 pm and 7:00 am.” He cuts himself off there, “Y/n, why are you here?”

You didn’t pay attention to anything he said. All you could think about was the way his lips were moving and the way his eyes locked onto yours as he talked.

“Do you love me?”

That is not what you wanted to say.

His lips fall open as he takes in a sharp breath, “What?”

“Or I guess did you love me? Before everything? Because Derek and JJ and Pen, they all said that you loved me, and now I can’t think about anything else, Spencer.”

He doesn’t speak, but you don't really give him a chance to.

“I just, I know I sound crazy right now, but I feel fucking crazy. I keep going over everything in my head, and I have been, for the past year I have been, but now it’s all different. It's all different because they said that you loved me, but you didn’t think I’d feel the same way.”

Here, you do pause, but he still doesn’t say anything, so you go on before you can stop yourself.

“Because if that's true, Spencer, it's just- I did. I do. And if it's not, then please just tell me so I can stop feeling this way.”

He sounds resigned when he says, “Y/n,” and you feel like you know what that means.

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I don’t know why I'm doing this. You don’t have to say anything. Actually, please don’t say anything. I don't think I can hear it. Just pretend I never-”

He cuts off your ramble, “Y/n, stop.”

You draw your eyes from the floor, look up at him, and find something in his gaze you have never seen before. He doesn’t say anything, just stares at you, and it takes everything you have not to look away. His hand raises to cup your jaw, and your skin lights on fire. Before you can process what he’s doing, you feel his lips press against yours, and something clicks. At first, his touch is light, like he’s giving you the chance to pull away. But, when he grasps that you won’t, he presses himself to you harder, and all you can think about is how nothing has ever felt so right.

His lips move against yours, and you don’t know how you're managing to reciprocate because it feels like everything in your body has gone fuzzy. The kiss is by no means long, but it feels like it lasts forever, and by the time he pulls away, you’re breathless.

His forehead stays connected to yours, and he whispers, “I do, Y/n, love you. I have.”

You don’t feel the tears on your cheeks until he’s wiping them away.

“Oh, Y/n.”

“Did you know? That you did? Is that why…”

You trail off, hoping he’ll pick up on what you're asking, and he does.

“I didn’t at first, or I didn’t realize I was falling in love with you until it happened. I got scared, so I ran. I just never thought that you could feel the same or that I was hurting you. I didn’t realize that. I just thought I was doing what was best for us. I felt guilty for being in love with my best friend.”

“And Maeve?”

“I loved Maeve. I’ll always have love for her. I was trying to move on, and I thought I could eventually be with her and be around you without it hurting. I wish I would have told you this before.”

“You’re telling me now. That's enough.”

This time, it's you who pushes your lips to meet his. Your arms snake around his neck, and his fall to your waist. You follow when he pulls you into his apartment and closes the door. There is still pain on both sides, but you can feel it dissipating as you cling to each other. You’re just two broken people who have finally found a way to each other.

This kiss is different, hungrier. Neither of you pulls away for longer than a few seconds as you navigate your way from his entryway to his couch. Every touch is desperate like you're searching for something you never knew existed until now. His hands pull you closer and closer until he's pulling you on top of him, and each of your legs rests on opposite sides of his hips.

Your lips break from his for a moment, “What do you want, Spence?”

His reply is instant, “You.”

From there, things move faster. Your hands unbutton his shirt and push it from his shoulders while he undoes your pants. There are moments of awkwardness that come with exploring another for the first time, but it feels good. His hands trace over your hips and push further until you're left on top of him in only your underwear and bra. He takes you in like you are something to be marveled at, and you know your eyes reflect the same adoration.

You raise yourself off of him and work to get him in the same state of undress as you, and when you position yourself on top of him, you feel his length press against your center. The two thin layers of fabric do little to hinder the intensity as you rock into him. He lets out quiet moans at the action as his lips trace down your neck and over your collarbone.

His breath ghosts over you and makes you shiver when he asks, “Can I touch you?”

“Please.”

His hand moves between the two of you, and his fingers find your clit easily, rubbing circles over the fabric of your panties. You pant his name against his lips at the action. You feel like your whole body is lit up, and under any other circumstance, you'd feel embarrassed at how worked up you are, but you can’t seem to care.

After a few moments, he lifts you up and carries you to his bedroom. From there, he positions you below him on the bed, removing your remaining clothes in the same motion. The new setup lets you grip him, and he feels big in your hand. His fingers resume their previous assault before dipping down into you. You cry out at the feeling of him inside you, slowly pushing in and out, finding a spot that makes your legs start to shake. He’s relentless in his pursuit and all you can muster up the energy to say is his name.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/n.”

It's somewhere between a whimper and a whisper, but the sound of his voice causes you to clench around his fingers.

He picks up on this, of course he does, and quickens his pace as he coos at you.

“So pretty like this. I’m so lucky.”

You’re embarrassingly close already, so when he moves his thumb over your clit to rub circles as he fucks into you with his fingers, you come undone almost instantly with a warning and cry of his name. He works you through your orgasm, all while whispering praise in your ear. Once you come down from your high, you start to push his boxers down his legs, but he stops you before you can fully.

“We don’t have to do anything more, Y/n. I liked just making you feel good.”

“I want more. I want to feel you if you want that too.”

“Of course I do. I just don’t want you to regret anything.”

“I couldn’t regret this, Spencer. I love you. I want all of you.”

It's the first time you’ve actually said those three words to him, and it feels so fucking good to say.

“I love you, too. God, so much.”

With that, he positions himself back on top of you, running his fingers over your slit gently before gripping himself.

“Do you have a condom?”

“I might somewhere, but I have an IUD, and I’m clean. I can try to find one if you’re more comfortable with that?”

“IUDs have a failure rate of around .05% and are largely considered the most effective form of birth control, so uh, as long as you're okay with it, I am.”

You smile to yourself at his statistic but nod, “I want to feel you, Spencer.”

He returns your smile before rubbing his length over your entrance a few times and slowly pushing himself into you just slightly. He teases you, or maybe himself, for a moment before fully entering you. You push your hips up to meet his, and feeling him in his entirety makes your jaw fall open. He’s big, and you feel unbelievably full.

He waits a moment for you to adjust before he starts to develop a rhythm. His hands are everywhere, but his eyes are focused solely on your face like he doesn’t want to miss a moment of your reaction to him inside of you. To be fair, you are probably putting on a good show. Every movement he makes hits you in exactly the right spot, and you don’t think you could be louder if you tried. You can feel the leg he’s not holding up against his shoulder shake against the bed. Your first orgasm has made way for your second to be incredibly close.

“Spencer, please.”

You’re crying out, desperate for a little more to push you over the edge.

“What do you need, baby?” His voice is tight like he’s not far himself, and it sounds better than anything you’ve ever heard.

“Harder. Please, harder.”

He takes your direction immediately, rubbing circles on your clit with one hand while he thrusts into you with a bruising force. He’s fucking you like he wants you to remember the feeling long after he stops, and you know that you will. Everything about it is overwhelming: his smell, his pace, his eyes. You are covered in him, and he is covered in you.

After a moment, the hand he had on your stomach trails up to grasp lightly at your throat, and you fall into feeling. You can’t warn him that you're about to come before you do. The feeling is white hot. Bigger than your first, and the fact that you're coming on him sends you into overdrive. You can feel his hips falter for a moment, but you're lost in a daze, crying out his name.

He pumps into you a few more times before he follows suit. He pulls out, and you feel stripes of his come paint your cunt and lower stomach as he finishes with a moan of your name.

He falls next to you on the bed, and it takes you both a few moments to collect yourselves and catch your breath.

Once you do, the only thing you can think to say is, “I love you.”

It feels like those are the only words circling around in your head at the moment. Some mixture of his name and that declaration. While you know you each said it before, that your profession was the exigence of the sex you just had, it feels uniquely vulnerable to say now. It’s like the moment you just had together could have changed things or made him realize that he doesn’t actually love you after all.

That shoe doesn’t drop, though. Instead, you hear the three words echoed back to you by a man who, 6 hours ago, you thought would never, ever say them.

You turn to face him, and the love on his face feels like it could knock you out. He’s looking at you and smiling in a way you haven't seen in a long time.

“Will you let me clean you up?”

You know that part of the reason he’s asking has something to do with the likelihood of bacteria growth or something like that, but you think it's mainly that he wants to take care of you. Him wetting a rag and running it over you feels intimate in a different way, in an excruciatingly gentle way. Personal in a way that makes you feel like nothing between you could ever be wrong again, and maybe that's naive to think, but you feel hopeful regardless.

Once he finishes, he takes his space back next to you in the bed. This time, he pulls you into his arms, and it's different than it was all those months ago. This time, you know that he won’t push you away and that you won't hurt yourself by being next to him. This time, you just tuck yourself into him, and you let him whisper sweet nothings into your ear as you begin to drift off. This time, it feels like peace.

~

The following day, you wake up to Spencer still next to you, looking incredibly soft in the early morning light. You search for a moment to find your phone in the piles of clothes and are greeted with a text from Pen.

How did it go????

You smile before turning your phone off and climbing back into bed next to the man you love. It couldn’t have gone better.

-

all done! yay!!!

i hope you guys love it!! i’m not 100% happy with the ending but i’ve been writing this for so long and just needed to be done.

this is my first time writing angst on here and my longest fic, so PLEASE tell me what you think! all (nice) feedback is welcome and i love to hear from you guys!! :)

[hotyanderedaddies]

Trying to Ignore a Yandere Demon Who Wants to Claim You

[Yandere! Demon x GN! Anxious Reader]

·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆

"Whatever you do, do not-- I repeat: DO NOT acknowledge the demon in any manner. If you do, then he can latch onto you and take you."

The words of the psychic you'd contacted for help kept filtering through your head as you stared blankly forward, forcing your eyes to laser focus in on the bright colors of the TV. The volume was on full blast as you attempted to drown out the sounds of him.

"Darling," that eerie, deep voice echoed out. Its user was so close that could feel its hot breath wafting over your cheek, but you refused to give the slightest indication that you'd heard it.

"If a love demon decides that it wants you, then it'll follow you around nonstop like a lovesick puppy. It'll do anything to get you to notice it..."

The demon playfully ran one of his fingers through your hair, his skin hot to the touch. He completely dwarfed you, looking like he outweighed you by fifty pounds of pure muscle and was taller by at least two feet. His demonic proportions made him look hulking and menacing, yet whenever he looked at you, his mouth pulled into a large smile.... full of razor sharp teeth.

"Will you look at me, Darling?" he asked, sticking out his lower lip mockingly. "I love you. I only want to talk to my darling."

"Don't look at it. Don't listen to it. Don't react to its movements. The slightest indication that you're aware of its presence is a sign the demon takes that you've agreed to be theirs..."

The demon huffed, irritated. He stomped his way in front of the TV and glared at you with his glowing eyes. "I know you see me," he accused.

You refused to stop glancing forward, pretending that you could still see whatever show you were trying to watch.

The demon tore his shirt away from his body, showing off his impressive chest muscles. He held his arms out, as if to show off to you. "Check it out, Darling," he announced, "I'm bigger than most of the other love demons. So I can protect you and take very good care of you."

He slowly approached the couch.

"Because a love demon makes its presence known to only one person: their darling."

"I love you so much, Darling," the demon cooed, placing both of his hands on either side of your face.

You winced internally and tried your best to look deadpan, avoiding the demon's glare with all of your might.

You refused to break, because if you did, then you'd belong to a demon for all eternity.

But damn it, he was persistent.

Ever since he'd made his presence known to you last week, the demon followed you around everywhere you went, trying to get you to acknowledge him:

He'd cause a ruckus in class, throwing textbooks and chairs around, leading to the other students thinking that you were out of your mind and throwing them yourself.

He'd follow you into the shower and jerk off as you bathed, talking about how he couldn't wait to touch you himself.

He'd sing soft lullabies to you as you tried to sleep. And he would frequently get under the covers with you too, snuggling you from behind.

He'd follow you whenever you went grocery shopping, threatening to push one of the elderly shoppers in front of one of the moving vehicles in the parking lot. But you couldn't warn the other person unless you wanted to be taken by a demon. RIP.

He'd even gone so far as to set your dinner on the stove on fire, and you had to mutter loudly that you'd foolishly forgotten to turn the gas off.

He was growing impatient.

"Darling," the demon growled, baring his large teeth at you, "all you have to do is notice me, and I promise that you'll be all mine. All mine, and no one else's. Doesn't my sweet baby want that?"

He bit down on his lower lip for a second before perking up.

Before you could guess what was going on in his mischievous head, the demon pressed his warm lips against yours. They were soft to the touch and warm thanks to his high body heat.

It felt good at first, until he playfully bit down on your lower lip--

With a loud gasp, you jerked back and made eye contact with the demon out of shock. Oh shit...

"Finally!" the love demon laughed as your heart fell to the floor.

He lunged forward and wrapped both of his arms around you, yanking you deep into his embrace as if he were a cage. The temperature seemed to rise rapidly in the tiny living room as the demon began to transport you to wherever he dwelled, and to wherever you knew he'd never let you leave.

"W-wait!" you tried to beg.

"It's too late for that, Darling," the love demon laughed. "You're mine and I'm going to enjoy my prize all night long. I love you, Darling, thank you so much for accepting me."

"If you acknowledge the love demon, they'll take you away to be theirs forever, with no hope of ever escaping them or their crazed love..."

[eufezco]

BIRDS OF A FEATHER༄

the tva erased you from your timeline when logan died, you've been living in the void since then.

angst + fluff. no use of y/n. english isn't my first language (!)

you couldn't take your eyes off them.

you were at the table sitting next to logan, on his other side was laura. he held wade's dog while she played with it and you couldn't take your eyes off them. you couldn't believe it. you had to pinch yourself a few times to confirm that you weren't dreaming.

you thought you'd never see a scene like that ever again. the two of them together. how many times you had looked at the sky and cursed the universe for not giving the three of you more time?

when your logan died, the time variance authority decided that the sacred timeline didn't need you anymore so they erased you and sent you to the void. you preferred it that way, you didn't want to live in a timeline in which he was gone but you were also angry because they didn't have to drag little laura to that place with you.

you didn't remember how much time you spent in the void but seeing how laura had grown into a woman, you guessed that it had been a long time since you left your timeline.

when you got to that place, she was just a child. scared, angry, who had just lost the most important person in her life. and you were just the same, except that you were not a child and you had to take care of both of you. no matter how much you wanted to die, you had to stay alive for laura. but also for logan, for the way you both cried and held his bloody hands while he died and for not letting her be what they made her for.

and no matter how strong your mutations were, you didn't know how long you would have lasted there if it hadn't been for elektra, johnny, blade, and gambit. they found you when you were escaping from alioth and let you into their hideout. they explained to you how things worked there and eventually, they allowed you to stay with them.

until one day you walked into that same hiding place, and there he was, drinking gambit's alcohol and wearing a yellow spandex suit. you felt your heart beating so hard that it seemed to be fighting to get out and reach him. you brought a hand to your chest to feel it. it had gone so long without beating that way that sometimes you thought you left it buried with him in your timeline.

logan also felt his heartbeat accelerate but he quickly took his eyes off of you and drank a long sip from the bottle. he wasn't alone, a deadpool was with him, you recognized the suit, they were quite popular in the void. he shook his hands and gave little jumps of excitement. you looked at him confused, did you know each other?

—of course, you are here! there's no you without logan and there's no logan without you! do you know how hard it's been to find a proper wolverine? there are so many fucking timelines without one because you died! —deadpool exclaimed when he saw you. —and this one is not even a proper wolverine! you know they call him the worst logan? and he won't tell me why they call him that, can you believe it?—deadpool acted offended, you didn't know what to say. —wait... —he turned to look at logan. —was there a she in your timeline? i didn't get to meet her, they're usually nicer than you.

logan ignored the question and simply drank from the bottle again as he stormed out of your hideout.

he avoided you as much as he could. he did not look you in the eyes, he did not address you when he spoke. how could he? the last time logan saw you, your lifeless body was piled up next to scott's. shame consumed him even at the thought of just approaching you. his hands trembled, a knot formed in his stomach, his pulse quickened.

you came over to talk to him that same night.

logan was sitting in front of the campfire, alone, with a bottle of liquor in his hand. how many had he drunk? he saw you approaching and tried to convince you that he wanted to be alone but you still sat next to him.

—what was i like?

logan took a long sip of alcohol when you asked. he said nothing, just stared into the fire, so you decided to take the turn. —you were grumpy, i guess that doesn't change in any of your variants, and you wouldn't have worn that yellow spandex suit in a thousand years.

he looked at you with a frown when you said that. the same way your logan would have looked at you. you continued talking. —you were stubborn, never asked for help, and you were tired all the fucking time because you worked your ass off to get us out of the shitty place we were living in.

he stared at you in silence while you talked. the person you were describing definitely sounded like a version of him.

—you always said that i didn't need to wait up for you but i know you liked it when you came home late at night and i was there and i know you hated the way i folded your shirts but you never said anything because you knew i didn't know how to do it any other way.

you felt a lump forming in your throat. you turned your head, hiding your face from logan so he couldn't see how you used your thumb to wipe away the tear rolling down your cheek. —but you were so brave, and caring, and i loved you with all my heart. you always looked after me even when you were fucking dying with each passing day.

by the tone in your voice and how well you remembered every detail, he guessed that your logan was suddenly taken away from you. oh, he knew that feeling so well.

you were about to get up and leave, you didn't want to bother him anymore and you had already overshared enough with him, when all of a sudden, he started talking.

—you were the sweetest. fuck, i never knew why you were with me. i always thought you deserved better, but there was no way to get you off my ass —. he closed his eyes and shook his head. —and i tried, i tried to push you away and get you to find a guy who deserved you, but there was no way. and i didn't really want you to do it because i was so fucking in love with you.

logan drank from the bottle, trying to let the alcohol sliding down his throat drag with it the tears forming in his eyes. —you liked to read in the garden of the mansion on sunny days and when it rained you'd open my bedroom window to listen to the rain and get into my bed while i was sleeping so i could keep you warm.

there was silence as logan took another sip, almost finishing all the alcohol. —and i left you to fucking die.

the worst logan. at that moment you understood why he was called that, you didn't him to explain it. wade said that in all the timelines he had visited, there was no you without logan and there was no logan without you.

however, in his timeline there was logan but there wasn't you.

he was called the worst logan because he was doomed to live in his timeline without you.

you grabbed the bottle from his hands and drank the alcohol left. —yeah, i couldn't save you either.

you kept each other company that night. most of the time in silence, watching the fire consume the wood, other times you commented on the situation, you talked about cassandra nova, the people you had met there in the void, he even asked you about laura. and at the end of the night, you were sitting next to him with your head resting on his shoulder and him watching you sleep peacefully.

the next morning you headed off to fight cassandra nova. you knew that logan would end up joining you, it was in his nature.

you and laura managed to remove the helmet from juggernaut's head and you ran to give it to wade. when cassandra opened the portal using strange's ring you were there, you could've left with wade and logan, but you couldn't leave laura there. cassandra's allies had pulled themselves together and she was struggling to fight back.

before you went to help her and logan jumped into the portal, he wrapped one of his big arms around your waist and pulled you into a kiss. you rested your hands against his chest and closed your eyes, enjoying those few seconds of your lips pressed together.

—oh, fuck. seriously now? i know how important fan service is for marvel but we literally have a chance to get the fuck out of here—. wade complained.

—i'll get you out. you and the kid, i promise i won't leave you here —. he said as he started walking backward towards the portal. you nodded, if there was one thing you were sure of, it was that no wolverine in the multiverse would break a promise.

and just as you were right about all wolverines being grumpy, you were right about that too. agents from the time variance authority went into the void to get you and laura that same day and now you were having dinner with him, laura, wade, and his family.

you couldn't take your eyes off him.

he had the same look in his eyes. that little sparkle in his deep brown eyes. he was happy, smiling as he played with the dog and laura, calm knowing that you were by his side. you looked away from him when he caught you staring.

—what is it?

you shook your head and pressed your lips together, showing him a little smile. —nothing.

—come on, spit it out.

—it's just... i feel i could fall in love with every version of you.

logan nodded slowly, his eyes were now fixed on yours. —i've had the same feeling.

wade, who was distracted with vanessa but not enough to not be paying attention to your conversation, decided to intervene. —oh honey, wait until you meet the crucified one. you will want to take that back.

you and logan looked at each other confused.

[vaguely-concerned]

thinking about not only the specific people lucanis pulls in to represent the 'locks' in his psyche, but the storytelling that happens in the structure/order of them. the underlying ideas are presented something like:

the lucanis who went into the ossuary never came back out again; he died down there (the boy caterina raised is gone forever) -> you're putting yourself in danger doing this (by being close to me), you should leave because I can't bear it if you get hurt because of me -> it doesn't matter even if we do try this, it won't work anyway (again because of me) ('you know what he's like, you can open the door but he won't walk through it' :'( oofie doofie) -> what if the real secret is that there was never anything but the monster in here from the beginning. you should leave, there was never anything here worth saving in the first place. (implicitly: what if I deserved what happened, all along.)

it runs pretty cleanly from outward-oriented attachment anxiety ('caterina won't even want me back like this, she won't recognize me (the same way I no longer recognize myself)) and gradually deeper inwards until we reach self-image and self worth. or you know, the harrowing basic lack of it lol.

"careful -- they'll know we're not right," spite says in one of their first scenes... but clearly, some very deep part of lucanis has feared or suspected for much longer than that that there's something inherently not right at the core of him, way before any demon entered the picture. and the voice he gives those lines to is the person who should know him better than anyone in the world, who he has loved more than anyone in the world -- and who deliberately chose to hurt him so horrifically anyway. 'It's better if I'm just a monster and deserved what happened than it is to allow for the idea that the brother I love doesn't really exist and maybe never did'. it's better if he's fundamentally flawed in some way that needed fixing to help him survive, and that's why caterina chose to hurt him again and again -- out of love. (this one I think he might have a very sad wakeup call on one day if he ever ends up with the responsibility and care of a child of his own in some way and realizes just how alien the idea of ever intentionally hurting them for any reason is to him. oh buddy. also interesting that he keeps caterina as the outermost lock -- there IS a distance he keeps there that he hasn't with illario. he doesn't resent her 'anymore' he says, but he also keeps her carefully further away from his deepest self.)

as far as I could tell the only note in the mind prison that's fully hidden and needs to be uncovered is the sad painful helpless stupid little truth that even after all this, even knowing what happened... he still loves his brother. is there anything illario could ever do that would make lucanis completely stop loving him, do you think? sometimes the trouble with unconditional love is that it is, well. unconditional, even when some terms and conditions probably would have been in order haha.

that's the pattern you see there again and again; he would rather destroy and abandon and imprison himself at every turn than let go of love, even when it's just scraps, even when there's only ever enough of it to hurt him. it's only when rook shows up and as it were takes his hand and walks along with him that he can entertain the idea of changing the story of what walking out the door might mean in the end.

[jjk4isen]

ꗃ 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔, 𝟏𝟎𝟎𝟎 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐍𝐎𝐖.

❝ you're not a curse, you have never been. you were my blessing and my salvation– the best thing that has ever happened to me. you cleared my skies and showed me how it was to love… and be loved. ❞

summary: when your entire village faced the king of curses' wrath, you were sure you'd be as good as food for him but life decides to weave the strings of fate and intertwine yours with the very person who tries to cut it short.

desc: 8.6k words, f!reader, sfw, angsty angst hehe, major character death, cannibalistic thoughts (sukuna is a cannibal after all), takes place in the heian era, true form sukuna, bit ooc bc we know his ass isn't capable of love, ! slightly gory parts!, this is canon bc i said so, kenjaku isn't known as kenjaku yet – he's still known as noritoshi kamo, yorozu mentioned, basically just me raw dogging the storyline during the heian era lol.

notes: this took way longer than it should but i battled like three burn out sessions to write this so lmao. also does anybody get the aot reference in the title? this might MIGHT have a part two if i can think of a good plot to mirror it. if you get the reference, you'll alr know what it's going to be titled :P

must be horrifying isn't it? being a mere human amongst sorcerers and curse users capable of destroying and killing— powerless among the powerful whose thirst for yet more power remain a bottomless pit of unquenchable desire.

in this state of the world, your life wasn't your own. it belonged to the people who were strong enough to kill you or considerate enough to spare you.

and among dangers looming throughout, one triumphs all. one whose name was even powerful enough to send curses back at just the mention of it.

ryomen sukuna. feared by curses and non curses alike. the ruthless evil entity who feeds off of humans. there is no doubt about him being the king of curses, capable of having any being in the palm of his hands.

including you.

your village faced the wrath of the king of curses himself, not a brick was intact nor a rock left unturned. and what's even worse? he didn't have any reason for his destruction. he just did it out of his sheer will.

perhaps you should consider yourself lucky to have your life spared, along with some other women and children. all the men were gone without traces — maybe for the better.

trapped in the basement of the castle’s kitchen, you await your fate to be eaten.

what was that you said before? lucky? no, you realise how horribly wrong you were. the wails and cries of terror as yet another person was dragged out of the small room was enough to ring in your ears forever.

the sudden quietness that followed soon after was enough to suffocate you.

the room was dark, wet and disgusting. it reeked of decomposed bodies and blood. nobody was fed well and even if one or two loaves of pitiful bread were thrown into the small cell, it wasn't nearly enough to feed a group of starving people.

at least the number keeps decreasing day by day.

you'd notice how the people who cried, begged or fought back were likely speeding up their deaths so you kept to yourself, waiting for your turn, even if it's just a while later.

after what you think was a couple of days came your turn. you had lost your perception of everything in this tiny suffocating room; you might as well be dead.

you heard some loud clanks of the metal door and suddenly, a harsh pull sends you essentially flying towards whoever was grabbing you.

“this is the last one” you heard a gruff voice say as a light shone inside. it felt like ages since you saw any sort of light, of warmth. in a way, you were relieved. your suffering must be finally coming to an end.

“its this one isn't it?” a low voice asks as they being a lamp closer to inspect you. your eyes were opened and after a long while, you saw again.

“why is she in such a weakly state?” the person holding the lamp grimaces at your sight. through your hazy vision, you could still make out the white hair, perfectly in place. they were beautiful.

“well that ain't my fault is it?” the big creature yanks your arm and you fall wherever it does.

suddenly shards of ice fill the room and the fire from the lamp is put out. in its place is a glowing icy caricature of the creature, holding you intact.

as terrifying as cursed techniques can be, they were also mesmerising. the beautiful fridgid sculpture leave you in awe; the rough hand holding your arm was now frozen and unmoving.

“now.” the icy person leans down, meeting your eye level, you hadn't realised the dim moonlight illuminating the ice crystals in the room “what shall we do with you?”

───────────── 🃜 🃚 🃖 🃁 🂭 🂺

the next time you're concious enough to make out your surroundings, you find yourself in a small dimly lit room. it was heaven in comparision to the previous one.

you scrumble towards the small lamp and take in the warmth. you had no idea where you were, what happened or what would happen but for now, you were alive. barely, but alive still.

weakly, you sit on the floor— there isn't anywhere else to sit anyway. upon hugging your knees you notice an apparent bruse on your arm. the same place where you were grabbed, the memories come back slowly.

did the white haired person save you? could you maybe have a chance at life?

no, being in captivity by the king of curses himself tells you enough that you weren't going to make it out of here alive. well, it's not like you necessarily want to either. your home and the people in it were gone, some of whom you witnessed their end.

it's only fair for you to meet the same fate as them.

the sound of the door unlocking interrupts your thoughts, then in came the person with snow like hair.

“finish this” they hold out a tray of food and set it down next to you. you only lean away defensively.

without so much of another word, they make their way towards the door that is, until you decided to stop them.

“you saved me didn't you?” it had been a while since you even heard your own voice and you don't miss the way it sounded more resigned than it had ever been.

“do not be fooled. it is all in consideration for my master. finish the plate” with that they walk away, leaving you with even more questions than before.

───────────── 🃜 🃚 🃖 🃁 🂭 🂺

when the certain white haired person decides to show up, they look pleased with your health. well, it should come as a no surprise since they keep feeding you — overfeeding you in fact. and you know why.

fatten up the stock so that it's in top shape when it's time to consume it.

“follow me” they say, holding the door open.

obediently, you follow the person you owe your life to, for now anyway, and they lead you through alleys and stairways you had never seen before.

only sounds of footsteps and your exhausted huffs can be heard in the hallway filled with various markings on the wall. you don't even want to know what they mean.

“so… how do i call you?” you manage to ask, maybe if you try to get close to them, maybe they can help a second time.

don't kid yourself.

no reply comes and you feel heat rush to your cheeks from embarassment. but hey at least you tried.

your wandering eyes missed to see them stop before a certain door and you crash into them with a grunt. they must be well built because the impact did not faze them at all.

“sorry” you rub your nose that was sore from bumping your face into their back.

“i go by uraume. i am master sukuna's loyal servant. beyond this door is the garden and you are to take a walk twice a day to build up your stamina. i shall be checking on you daily.”

“why should i need to do that?”

“do as you are told. now go” they open the door for you.

beyond the door is a garden too beautiful to belong in the palace of such an abominable being. flowers of all kind adjourn each corner, flourishing in all their bloosoming glory.

the sky was as clear as can be, with the sun brightly shining as if it's wishing people a good day. the birds chirping and the gentle breeze that brushes through your hair reminds you of your home back in the village and your heart aches a little.

“thankyou” you turn back but uraume is now long gone.

gee must people be so cold around here?

you stroll along the garden, savoring your time outside in so long. how long has it been exactly? you couldn't recall. maybe you should ask uraume the next time they come around.

───────────── 🃜 🃚 🃖 🃁 🂭 🂺

only this time when uraume does show up, they don't lead you towards the garden. instead, you find yourself at the door of the king of curses’ throne room.

uraume doesn't say a word and only ushers you in.

is this doomsday? you recall the screams of fear from the people you used to share a home with. the look on their faces, their nails desperately clinging onto the prison bar while pleading for mercy — all of that for naught.

and the silence that followed.

it's possible that the well timed meals and the strolls you took in the beautiful garden was the mercy your people begged for but never got.

maybe you should be thankful you even got to have those.

“master is impatient. you should go in right this instant” uraume insists. something about their behaviour tells you if you don't do as told, you'd have a fate worse than what you could ever think of.

with all the courage you could muster, you unlock the door and take strides into it, as confident as you could make it seem.

the four armed monster looms in front of you, starting down at you as if you were only a mere bug.

perhaps you were — small and helpless, under the mercy of the predator who had seen you.

you bow politely, it seemed like it was the only appropriate thing to do.

sukuna thinks you're pathetic.

just a mere human and not worth his time. there was only a small reason as to why he hasn't had his way with you yet.

your flesh and blood.

to him, you smelled hauntingly sweet and hypnotisingly alluring. that was what drew him to your village in the first place — the hunt for the sweet scent that awakened all his senses, although he doesn't have any idea why.

sukuna is a curious being, he seeks to know the mysteries of the world — one of the reasons why he's so wise, adding to his strength.

so until he has his answers, he plans to keep you around. after that, he can enjoy your flesh however he wants.

just you standing mere feet away from him was enough to tempt him to bite you already. how would it feel to sink his teeth into your skin and have your blood flow down his throat? sukuna couldn't wait until he has the chance to do so.

“leave.” the monster only dismisses you after staring at you so intently, he might as well be staring deep into your soul.

you look up at him in confusion, why would he call you here without any particular reason?

“do your ears not work, human?” sukuna says, rather impatiently.

“lower your gaze and know your place, fool” he practically growls and you look away faster than the speed of light. one more bow and you're bolting out the door.

───────────── 🃜 🃚 🃖 🃁 🂭 🂺

your stay at the palace was a cycle of eating, sleeping and taking strolls. it was beginning to get monotonous, boring even. but its much better than facing the king of curses ever again.

you still had no idea why he called you to his throne room and honestly, you don't even want to find out why.

life wasn't so bad — the flowers were beautiful and smelled lovely, the meals were scrumptious and your sleep? well nightmares were inevitable but there were nights when you slept like a log.

and unbeknownst to you, a certain four eyed creature could be seen watching over you. no, observing you. its only right for him to observe his prey right?

it's not out of the goodness of his heart that when you whimper and cry out in your sleep because of a weak nightmare curse looming over your head, he kills it with only a tilt of his own. no, it's only because that curse deters your well being, hence your development to reach your full potential to be a perfect feast for him. nothing more.

weak human, you don't have the means to kill such a low grade curse or even see it. so why were you special? what makes you so different than the other filthy beings with no cursed techniques roaming the earth? sukuna still couldn't tell.

he's aware though — of your silent fear and unspoken resentment you have towards him. he's aware of your quivering soul whenever you sense his presence. he's aware of your desire to escape this place.

but he's also aware of how your smile becomes a little more genuine when you smell a particular flower in his garden. he's aware of how your eyes soften when you see the setting sun. he's aware of how you tried to get close to uraume and only get shut out. he's aware of you.

and that angers him to no end.

what infuriates him even more is how that pathetic servant thinks he can talk to you, and with such ease too. how dare he speak lowly of you? that's a direct insult to him isn't it?

‘you mean less than a concubine?’ sukuna scoffs at him for even comparing you to one.

so the next time he calls the council for a lecture, he doesn't even blink one of his four eyes when the said servant in question gets slashed by his formidable cursed technique.

the room grows thick with the smell of blood that was now splashed all over the carpets and tapestry hanging on the wall—a grueling task for the cleaners later.

“every tongue that rises against my prey shall fall.” the headless body of his once loyal servant serve as testimony to his words.

the palace may be big but rumours flew around: another servant ruthlessly executed by the monstrous beast. even the people under him weren't given an ounce of consideration.

is it a coincidence that it was the same person who cornered you just a day ago? you don't ponder.

───────────── 🃜 🃚 🃖 🃁 🂭 🂺

after the ruthless slaughter of your village and everything in it, it didn't take long for sukuna to find his next target.

it wasn't anything new to anybody at all that he was a bloodthirsty beast, revelling in chaos and ruin. one after another, his victims were crushed mindlessly and so easily, it made you sick how powerless other people are in comparison to him.

out of all his battles and countless destruction, one prominent opponent was the fujiwara clan.

they were an elite clan, taking pride in the strength of their squadrons. the world held its breath upon hearing of the battle, maybe they had the potential to rival the king of curses.

the outcome didn't change though. sukuna remained prevalent—bringing the sun, moon and stars at his feet. the five empty generals did not even measure upto him.

the battle must have been so agonising to the point where the authorities were willing to hold festivals in his honour, out of utter terror.

it was at this harvest festival where sukuna had encountered a certain shameless sorcerer who was on her way to be completely obsessed with him.

yorozu had only one goal: to alleviate sukuna's loneliness with her love — something she believed only she was capable of.

thus why she leeches onto him, much like a hick. perhaps sukuna doesn't see her as a threat or he deems her powerful enough, he didn't get rid of her, for now at least.

however, her dreams were short lived.

yorozu sits next to sukuna in his throne room, enticing him with gentle nudges of her exposed chest. her haori was united and her hair fell graciously past her shoulders all the way down her chest.

she only shrieks in horror as she stares at the uninterested man. “you look different… you are different!” she screams angrily.

sukuna only hums in response, deep in thought of how his little prey has been holding up. despite his festivities and celebrations, you were there in the back of his mind, like an itch that cannot be quite scratched.

she stares at him, stepping back further and further “it couldn't be…”

yorozu brings herself to her knees, looking up at sukuna desperately. “i have so much more to teach you about love and the ultimate strength and solitude that it brings!”

she rises, her eyes were erratic, anyone would be afraid of her outburst that was about to come. anyone but sukuna.

“im the one who will teach you about love. that is my purpose and my goal. now tell me, who is it that is taking away your loneliness?”

sukuna raises a brow. it's possibly the only time he indulges yorozu’s antics and also the last.

“i will find out who it is! it doesn't matter if i have to tear this palace apart” yorozu violently darts out the room in search of something, anything. to her, if it was powerful enough to move sukuna then she would have no trouble finding whatever it is.

and she doesn't. not because you're too powerful but rather because of the lack of it. you stuck out like a sore thumb with no cursed energy running through your body, weak and unarmed just strolling across the garden— like the pathetic human you are.

sukuna arrives at the scene, ever observing, ever thinking.

“that is not true love” yorozu mutters, her fists were clenched on her sides as her gaze burnt into you who was unknowing of the fury burning inside her.

“you're mistaken, sukuna. i will show you what real love looks like!” yorozu screams, making her way towards you who could only stare at her in fear, frozen in place.

it would take sukuna less than a blink of his eye to stop her but he was intrigued. what would he feel if you were to be killed? would he feel pain? anger? the beast always finds his answers so he waits.

and what was that about true love? does that woman think he was capable of it? with you, no less? she sees you, a mere human, as a threat so that must mean something.

yorozu lands on you, digging her nails into your skin, blood gushing out of it. sukuna admires the sight.

you scream in agony as she continue to scratch through you and into you with ease. a maniac expression forms on her face at your slowed breaths and now silent helpless whimpers.

but before you were completely gone, sukuna gets rid of her. you were too busy holding onto your life to tell how he did it but one blink was enough for her to be gone and another makes you realise you were caged in the arms of the four armed monster.

“interesting” you heard sukuna say, before your lashes flutter and your eyes close against your will.

sukuna holds your limp body in his arms protectively with calculated gentleness as if a slight jerk would hurt you. well, in your state, it would.

upon watching you get torn apart, sukuna realises he isn't as heartless as he deemed himself. it drives him angry. how could a being as weak as you would have the capability to move him? how could you inflict pain onto him when you're the one who's at his mercy? he scoffs at how ridiculous it is all.

but when his eyes land on you– your fragile body almost lifeless and bleeding, his only thought was towards your safety and not towards devouring you, albeit the sweet scent of your blood tempting him and calling out to him to drink it.

he stares at his hands tainted with the pretty crimson colour, glistening in the sun but it pales in comparison to the way your eyes were shut as if you were only asleep. sukuna sighs, alright then.

his reversed cursed technique flows through his body into your own, healing the deep tears and cuts. he only hopes you aren't too angry at him for waiting that long to step in.

your staggered breathing was replaced with slow even ones and your wounds disappeared as if they had never been there in the first place. a peaceful expression forms on your face and all of sukuna's eyes soften.

───────────── 🃜 🃚 🃖 🃁 🂭 🂺

the next time you awaken you find yourself in the comfort of your own room making you doubt if everything that happened was a vivid dream. and you would have believed that doubt if not for the person sitting in the corner of your room, his four arms folded into each other.

you flinch upon seeing him and sit straight up, a groan escapes you involuntarily from your sore body.

“you're awake, brat” his deep voice sends shivers down your spine.

you nod slightly, your eyes on anything besides him.

“how are you feeling?” this makes you jolt your head towards him because did he just ask about your well being? you would say you misheard but the frown and distaste on his face only confirms that he was, in fact, concerned about your condition somehow.

“im feeling alright” you say quietly, still a bit afraid of the man sitting in your room who could easily overpower you if he wanted.

“i should hope so. your weak body didn't take much to heal as easily injurable as it is” he sneers from the shadows that enveloped him.

“so it wasn't a dream?” your voice shook a little which doesn't go unnoticed.

“no. i have taken care of the matter. you may rest at ease” he rises to his feet, he looks way too big to feel safe around. you hug your blankets a little tighter. wait, when did you even have that many?

“do not fear. i do not intend to harm you.” two out of four eyes narrow at you and how scared of him you looked. sukuna doesn't like how that bothers him.

“how do i know that?” your eyes didn't meet him, rightfully so, if it was anyone else who questioned him, sukuna would waste no second getting rid of them altogether.

“it is i.” a viable answer – one that doesn't need any further explaination. sukuna maybe a merciless hard hearted being but he's also a man of his words. anyone who knows him would be aware of this fact.

“but i don't know you.”

he supposes you're right. in a way, nobody knows him. this was also why he remained so strong despite people and sorcerers alike sharpened themselves while fighting him. he did not have an opening to allow them to kill him.

“then you can start from this moment forward.”

“i don't want to.” for the first time, sukuna faces disappointment; but it's a different kind of disappointment. normally he would be discouraged at how nobody was able to stand a chance against him but now, he feels helpless. much like he was the prey and you're the predator.

“and your reason for that is?” ever so curious, he glowered at your body which had somehow become smaller amongst the sheets of blanket you're enveloped by.

“because then… then i will grow to understand you. if i do understand you then that would mean id find out you have a heart. someone with a heart would never… would never…” your voice trails away and you look horrified by the memories flooding your mind.

“so i don't want to know you.” you muster up enough courage to stare into his eyes, all of his eyes and sukuna can feel your soul tremble.

he only watched silently as you fidget under his watchful gaze. great. he's at a loss by someone who's terrified of him, how much more could you hit a blow to his pride.

without a word, he steps out of your room and he could hear you exhale. he huffs in annoyance at how tense you are in his presence. and your words. they might as well be your cursed technique attacking him with every enunciation that came from your mouth.

and they were working.

───────────── 🃜 🃚 🃖 🃁 🂭 🂺

the world was somehow shifting. you couldn't exactly pinpoint where or how but it was.

“master has assigned you a new room that would be more comfortable for your stay” uraume says, standing in front of you in a polite stance. “please allow me to guide you there.”

if this is his attempt to make you forget about all the destruction he caused, for whatever reason, it was futile. he was irredeemable.

your thoughts might have been apparant on your face because uraume continues, “master says he does not have an ulterior motive. he simply wants you to be comfortable.”

since when did that beast care about other people's comfort except for his own?

“fine then, show me” if he offered, then there's no problem in accepting. heck maybe you should be taking advantage of his hospitality and ask for whatever you desire. he has put you on death's row and wiped of everyone you knew after all.

you were led to a room that was closer to the main area of the palace, a stark contrast to the basement of the kitchen — where you started from.

pieces of beautiful art were decorating each corner, finest tapestry hanging from the walls, and the curtains? they were of the best material you had ever known. no doubt, this was a room that exceeded even your dreams.

uraume opened the closet revealing kimonos of various kinds, from silk to linen to satin— every kind was there. “i was not aware of your taste so i assorted various kinds.”

you were amazed at the room, the materials – everything but these measly riches don't bring lives back and the monster certainly wasn't capable of any empathy so the words saying he has no ulterior motive were nothing but empty to you.

“what? have i been promoted from prey to concubine now?” the word alone makes you sick to your stomach but it's the only explanation that makes sense.

“you are very wrong. master does not keep concubines. it is only an extension of his kindness.” you laugh, sukuna? kindness? please.

four eyes narrowed at your bitter laugh, sukuna stands in the doorway, each of his two arms folded in each other. he has lost count of how much disrespect he tolerates from you but strangely, it does not give him a drive to kill, only annoyance.

a brow raises when you turn around after being aware of his presence and your laugh, as mocking as it was, dropped into a frown.

seeing how speechless you are, he huffs. from out of nowhere, he conjures up a bow and an arrow to go along with it. sukuna moves stealthily, one step and he's already next to you.

the bow and arrow are shoved into your hands “i have heard you are exceptionally good with these” sukuna says, his voice was low and calculating – if you hadn't known better, you'd say it quivered a little.

he wasn't wrong though, you had to hone some sort of hunting skill for food. life wasn't kind and you learnt it the hard way. nevertheless you felt safer with some kind of weapon you were familiar with, even though they won't be of much help against a sorcerer.

“master’s very own bow and arrow” uraume interrupted, their face had an expression of shock you had never seen on them before. there was an engraving on them– the same mark that sukuna had on his body.

“why give me this?” you ask and receive no answer. not because sukuna doesn't want to answer you, he simply doesn't have a reason. he just wanted you to have it. it felt natural. he'll be damned before he ever admits that to you or even to himself.

“what if i use it on you?” you press on, clutching onto the wooden weapon tightly. “what if i wanted to fire this at you?”

“i would let you.”

it caught you by surprise. why? you want to ask but you also didn't want to hear his reason. you don't want to know him. the little barrier you had put between you both is the only thing giving you leverage against such a vicious being, you couldn't afford to have it break down.

taking a quick abrupt step back, you line the end of the arrow to the bowstring and pull on it with an expert ease, aiming it at sukuna. uraume was about to step in but sukuna waves them off. as if the most feared curse user couldn't defend himself.

he could already have you breathing your last breath in a mere second if he wanted to but of course, he doesn't. he just stands there unmoving. his lack of response to your threat made you all the more aggravated.

“aren't you going to stop me?”

“no. proceed with whatever you intend to do, i shall not stop you.” sukuna's folded arms fell to his sides, giving you an open target for his heart.

now you should be firing your arrow with no hesitation right? you have hunted down countless moving targets from as small as a bird to something as big as a deer.

and they were running while you manage to hit a bullseye – every single time. so now this unmoving big target within just a few meters would be a piece of cake. it's your chance to end the tyranny of his wicked rule and him altogether– a chance that had not been granted to anyone who stands against him.

but your hands wouldn't move. they wouldn't let go of the string to propel the arrow towards him. they were frozen in place. you would have doubted uraume’s technique being in play but no signs of ice crystals found themselves anywhere near.

sukuna waits and you wonder if he was ever this patient.

your hands tremble, slowly letting your form down. why couldn't you just do it?

“human–”

sukuna's words were cut short by a swift arrow flying towards him. he didn't make a move to avoid it.

your trembling hands were now perfectly stable holding the bow. your breathing was calm, collected even. if anyone were to see you now, they'd wonder who the beast is. empty eyes deadpan at your target.

sukuna stares back, his cheek bleeding from the graze of the arrow. unlike your soul-less face, a satisfactory smile creeps onto sukuna's. “you didn't miss, did you? you aimed here on purpose.” his hands caress the small wound in awe.

“next time i wont.”

“as i have said, i will not stop you.”

───────────── 🃜 🃚 🃖 🃁 🂭 🂺

the new room was comfortable, all your needs were tended to and your conduct exceeded your desires. you were treated equal to a queen, if you knew how.

and uraume, sukuna's loyal servant, was now your own. they were still very distant though, not speaking more than they needed to. not like you really minded anyway.

uraume was there to observe. they were under strict orders to keep you safe and also report your daily status to sukuna. you weren't exactly aware of this part but there's no harm done so by logic, there wasn't a problem with it either.

sukuna finds the corner of his mouth twitch when uraume mentioned that you sang obnoxiously loud because you thought nobody was around. he'd have loved to hear that himself.

the amusing brief about you was however rudely interrupted by a strange person brave enough to march directly into the throne room unannounced.

“you're from the kamo clan aren't you? have you come to die a meaningful death?” sukuna's thirst for battle heightened upon seeing a sorcerer from one of the three main clans in jujutsu. maybe finally, he can have a strong opponent and enjoy the fight without having it end too early.

but the man only chuckles “no, i have come here to negotiate with the almighty king of curses himself”

sukuna frowns, now staring at him unamused “you do not have anything worth a value to me. fight or die a pathetic death.”

“i will do neither of those.” noritoshi kamo, stands face to face with sukuna without a hint of fear in his eyes and that makes sukuna curious. just what kind of offer does he have to be so bold?

“prove that you are worth my time you filthy scum” sukuna glowers at the man, getting more and more impatient by the second.

“how about that prey? how is your little prey doing?” kamo smirks and it's enough to tempt sukuna to cut through his skull but no, he refrains because anything that involves you, sukuna doesn't take it lightly.

“speak up or i’ll have you slashed.” sukuna remarks impatiently.

“it would be a shame to have her taken away from you isn't it?” the old man sneers.

the next thing he knows is his ragged breath and a sharp pain across his chest, kamo falls to his knees. sukuna’s technique had manifested a cut through his chest, although not deep enough to end him. with blood oozing out of the fresh cut and his mouth, he still has the courage to glare at the four eyed creature.

“you must not value your life” sukuna says nonchalantly, leaning against one of his hand, the grotesque sight was nothing new to him at all.

“your reign is coming to an end isn't it?” kamo laughs, although it comes out through splutters of blood. “no matter how powerful you are, you are not immortal sukuna, you still won't defeat death!”

as if sukuna is one to fear death. sukuna only sighs, revelling in the bloodied state of his intimidator.

“and your little human toy won't either” that earns a reaction from him. sukuna's eyes narrow at the pitiful man fighting for his life.

“what are you suggesting?”

“what if i tell you– that there is a way for you to be immortal? and that it's possible to find her in every lifetime?”

───────────── 🃜 🃚 🃖 🃁 🂭 🂺

everyone who knows sukuna knows that he does not get hurt. or yet, there's nobody who's strong enough to hurt him. generation upon generation, sorcerers have teamed up to get rid of him but with no luck. not even one of them could land a hit on the ferocious being.

all the more reason for you to be speechless when he returns with a huge hole in his stomach, bleeding continuously.

it was during your stroll that you saw him staggering over to his room.

okay maybe that was a lie. maybe you'd heard that a very prominent sorcerer in the jujutsu society had challenged him. you didn't know much about that world but it was enough to worry you, even if sukuna was undefeated.

so maybe that worry brings you into a situation where he arrived just while you were taking a stroll in the garden. you definitely didn't purposely take longer to watch the birds fly back to their nest in hopes of making sure sukuna returns. definitely not.

that's also NOT why you're knocking on his door boldly.

the door opens, revealing a confused sukuna. your eyes dart down to his injury but it seems the blood had stopped, still looking nasty regardless.

you wince just by looking at it but sukuna interrupts your unwarranted examination. “eyes here human. what do you want?”

for someone who's supposed to be prey, you're bold because in the next moment, you find yourself pushing through the door and asking him to sit down.

yes. you— a mere human, barged through his room and asked him to sit. when he doesn't comply, you walk up to him, pulling on one of his hands, guiding him towards his chair and sat him down. and strangely, no hint of protest came from him – not even a grunt or a growl.

with familiar ease, you call in uraume and ask for an emergency kit. they hesitate but comply regardless.

your expert hands slowly disinfect the wound and start stitching it up, not even sparing a glance at the man who just watches you and lets you do whatever you want to him.

“where have you garnered skills to do this?” sukuna asks mid stitch and it's only then that you realised he hasn't done so much as flinch. you could imagine how painful it would've been for a normal human but apparently this counts for nothing to him.

“when you're desperate enough, you just know” the last string goes through his flesh and you tie a knot, snapping the thread off. your movements slow when you realise you're touching him– skin and all, with your own.

your eyes lock when you search for his and they stare back. this time, you don't see a vicious brute but in its place, you see the eyes of a man. and not just any man, if you allowed your thoughts to wander you'd say it was the same look of a man capable of love.

but you don't – you look away. and sukuna's could feel a slight pull in his chest.

“human.”

“i have a name”

“human.”

the disregard for your name only makes you roll your eyes in annoyance. the man only chuckles at the sight.

“you do realise i can heal myself?”

a pause. of course how could you forget? reversed cursed technique they call it? all these magical powers granted to them made no sense to you at all. you only stare at the wall dumbfounded as sukuna downright laughs at your humiliated expression.

“why didn't you stop me then?” your grumble only amuses him further.

“perhaps because i wanted you to acknowledge how foolish you are?” his tone was teasing and not a hint of malicious intent was within it. a smile creeps on your lips and sukuna could swear his heart rate accelerated.

“i could show it to you if you're curious” your wide eyes give him all the confirmation he needed. sukuna rises on his feet, the prior horrid injury long forgotten.

“you could… take off the bandages. if they aren't effective anyway since you can heal” you shrug, trying to brush off your wholly service that was in fact not required in the first place.

“i rather they stay.” his hands graze them gently and you could swear he smiled at the pitiful mounts of cotton plastered on his abdomen.

“come. allow me to show you what im capable of.” he offers you a hand, out of the many he has and his shoulder slumps in relief when you take it without any protest.

he takes you outside and leads you towards your favourite spot in the garden. you don't let yourself wonder if it's a coincidence or not.

“see that fruit?” he gestures to a ripe apple hanging on its tree – super red and just the perfect size.

“yeah want about it?” you tilt your head towards him curiously making sukuna more enthusiastic to show you his perfectly crafted technique.

an invisible slash cuts the single fruit out of the tree, making it fall. it was barely noticeable and you'd think it fell on its own if not for the perfect slices it has all while it landed in the palm of your hands.

your wide eyed gaze only delights the man responsible for it. you take one slice off and admire the precision “you did this?? no way!”

sukuna heaves his chest proudly. strangely, your adulation to his antic gives him so much more satisfaction than wiping out an entire village.

“wait till you see this” sukuna takes a step back, his lips quirking up into a tight smirk upon seeing your expectant expression.

he places his hands together and gestures up signs that were not familiar to you. “fuga « open »” his low voice chants while fire manifests into the palm of his hands. he moulds the flames skillfully as it takes the shape of an arrow – a fire arrow.

and you're left with your mouth agape, he was truly terrifying. such bright flames don't even burn him but instead falls into his command.

sukuna likes the way you stare at him in wonder and was tempted to tell you that he created this very technique in honour of you and your bold decision in grazing his cheek with your arrow but for now, he holds his tongue and lets you admire as long as you want.

when the flames burn away, you're still in a haze— staring at the man in front of you with diluted pupils: one might think you're in love.

as sukuna focuses his eyes into your own, he's certain he could see into your soul which grows a little more familiar to him everytime he sees you. no it's not how he feels the familiar terror in someone's soul when they tremble in fear of him just as he was about to take their life.

it's not the same shudder of fear he used to feel when he's around you. this time, it's inviting. he feels he could be stripped of his technique and just be a normal being if it meant he could submerge himself in it.

───────────── 🃜 🃚 🃖 🃁 🂭 🂺

sukuna used to anticipate how he would die. he wanted to meet someone who would be strong enough to give him a formidable death fit for the most evil being to tread the world. news of fresh generation of strong sorcerers would excite him.

but the moment he knew he was entranced by you, that prior excitement was now replaced by fear. not fear for his death but rather, for yours. if anything were to happen to him, who would protect you?

it doesn't help how his enemies were catching hints on his possible weakness now. it all started with that damn bastard from the kamo clan, whom sukuna swears to kill. him and everybody else that could pose as a threat to you, he swears he will kill them all.

a little part of him also starts to fear for his own end. he fears that no matter how long he lives, he might think he doesn't have enough time with you. how could he when you're here, showing the sides or the world he never knew existed? the same world you weaved with every gentle word you say, no matter how insignificant.

sukuna can't get enough of the small smiles that were appearing more frequently when he reaches out to hold your tiny hand in his big ones.

he can't get enough of your soft snores when you're asleep in his chest– no more nightmares haunting your sleep because as long as he's around, any curse would have to fight him to get to you. no curse was bold enough to do so.

and mostly, he can't get enough of your small gentle strokes across his face. your touch was feather light and curious but so so loving that even when your hands were about to be pulled away, his own grabs them and makes them stay.

sukuna has nothing at all to base it off of, but if he had to name what he's feeling right now, it would be along the lines of complete devotion to you – in other words, he suspects it's the feeling these weak humans and yozoru keep preaching about: love.

and he's not denying it– not to himself at least or he can't. during his recent battles, he observes himself ending it as quick as possible.

instead of luxuriating in the thrill of battle, he finds himself rushing to kill his opponent – to end it as quick as it was humanely possible because every second he spends away from you is a second wasted.

he was becoming more precise and ruthless now that he has something to protect.

that's why even when you ask about his murder streak and if he could lessen it, he just ruffles your hair and tells you not to worry.

any sorcerer who has gotten close enough to land their sights on you were brutally tortured until they give up on their life altogether.

however, life can be funny at times. his own fear for your well being is possibly responsible for the curse that now latches onto you, consuming and draining the life out of you and sukuna's forced to watch as you slowly became a husk of who you used to be. so really, it's not funny at all.

he feels helpless and he is. none of the cursed techniques he has could exorcise the curse blooming inside you and spreading through your veins.

he has been warned before and he didn't care. he never fathomed to ever find someone to love so he traded his soul for his fervent reign – a binding vow: any being whose soul remotely gets near his own would ruin itself without any means for its resurrection.

another condition of the vow was for him to forget about it only after it was too late. at the time the vow was made, sukuna had thought, no, he'd known he lucked out by a power at the price of such a feeble condition but now… now he knows how gut wrenchingly wrong he was.

sukuna slumps in defeat at the sight of your weak body fighting itself. all his four hands encased one of yours as he listens to your staggering breaths that slowly becomes more faint than the last.

for the first time, no matter how tainted his hands were of from the numerous people he murdered in cold blood, sukuna finds himself praying; not for salvation or forgiveness but for your suffering to be placed onto him instead.

he has just found happiness with you, and in you, had just started to learn how to love someone so much that all his wicked ways were something he wished he never did. he had been stupid and arrogant – too arrogant. he was sure the heaven and whole generations of people he killed were now laughing at him drowning in his own misery. how the tables have turned on him and humbled him.

“kuna..” your barely audible voice mades him lean closer to your face, one of his large hands coming up to caress your face delicately.

“human. save your energy” sukuna scolds but his tone was not demanding by any means. it was desperate, desperate for just one more second of you.

a faint smile ghosts your almost now deathly pale face “it's not your fault.” you manage to cough out through staggering breaths.

sukuna's world might as well stop. it was his fault, everything was his fault. from the moment he caught a whiff of your sweet sweet blood to when he looked at you as nothing but prey to the moment when you became the sole reason for his existence, it was all his doing. he has taken you and tangled you amidst the string of despair.

his head shakes in denial, no words coming out of both his two mouths. so much to say, so many ways to say it but nothing.

but you know, the four pupils staring at you take the form of hearts, and that tells you everything. it could be just an illusion you'd heard people speak of on the verge of death but it's enough for you.

your sweet blood slowly looses its essence as you close your eyes, the last light inside you leisurely fading away.

“oi human” sukuna calls but there was no response.

“answer me” a plea.

still no answer as your hand slowly goes limp in his own. there was silence and nothing. so much of nothing that was unfamiliar in the otherwise air of curiousity that always surrounded you.

“human.” sukuna's voice wavers as his hands come to cup your too peaceful face. he searches for any signs of life but he finds none. before he knew it, a drop of water landed on your clueless yet beautiful features, then another and another.

the monster was crying. not just crying – he wept.

his entire body shakes as he lets out his pain, holding onto you desperately as if that would bring you back.

“human” he dries away his own tears on your face and brushes away the hair that dared hide even a portion of it.

“you're not a curse. you have never been. you were my blessing, my salvation. you are the best thing that have ever happened to me. you cleared my skies and showed me how it was to love… and be loved.”

sukuna trembled in grief at your loss. the king of curses– reduced to a man in love.

perhaps he wasn't the cannibal here. perhaps you were the one who slowly teared him apart and consumed his very being– merging yourself into his core without him even realising it.

but one thing he knows for sure is that if he were to do it again, he'd let himself be devoured entirely by you. over and over again. to be loved is to be consumed and he's offering himself to you, flesh and bones on a silver platter.

“until next time, my love.” he leans in and places a fragile kiss onto your forehead and that's the first and last time he has a taste of you.

with the last drop of your blood running dry and the absence of the warmth that made you, you; sukuna finds his answer – the reason why your blood tasted so sweet was because he was made to crave it. something he could quench his thirst with but never getting the chance to do so; a punishment perfectly fit for him.

“your deal. i shall agree to it on a condition” sukuna glowers at kamo who only smirks with an ‘i told you so’ written all over his face. sukuna would have slashed him to bits if it weren't for the agreement he agreed to take up on.

“i shall trade my soul to become a curse only if i get reincarnated exactly a thousand years from now” sukuna proposes, no, commands. it is said that a soul is reincarnated only once every thousand years and he wants to make sure he finds you in the next lifetime. maybe then, he'll have enough time with you and if he's lucky enough, be able to love you without bounds.

“that could be arranged” kamo quirks his head in a way sukuna despises. “but she'll have no memory of you. you're proceeding with this knowledge, yes?”

sukuna only narrows his eyes and ignores his question “that is not all. erase her existence from the minds of everyone besides me. generations hence, no one shall know who she is. her name shall be removed from every mouth that speaks of my reign.”

kamo smiles lazily “your soul is not worth that much sukuna”. the man strolls freely in the room, not minding the looming presence of the king of curses. “however, a binding vow could be arranged.”

great. another binding vow. but if that means he'll meet you in a thousand years time, he'll vow as many times as required.

“the grounds of the vow is as follows: you shall be reincarnated only if there appears a vessel suitable to withstand you.” kamo proposes. “your fingers will be cut and hidden in vast areas across the world and you shall only succeed in full reincarnation if you find them and consume them, all while being suppressed by the vessel.”

sukuna frowns and kamo only laughs “do you agree to the vow knowing all the risk it carries?”

conditions and regulations were a pain but nothing could stop a man desperate enough to give up his soul twice. “very well” sukuna agrees.

and that is how the heian era and sukuna's legacy came to an end; sealing himself – and the memories of you only he carries with him – into his twenty fingers, each of which turned into cursed objects scattered far and wide like pieces of puzzle waiting until the time comes for it to fit itself together again.

[punkshort]

Sweater Weather

Thank you @canteenee4 for this prompt!

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: A famous popstar's Christmas Eve concert brings an unexpected love into your life.

Warnings: language, flirting, fluff, shitty exes - not much else!

WC: 4.1K

dividers by @/saradika-graphics

"Oh, thank god!" you exclaimed under your breath when you saw it. You didn't even care what size it was, Ellie was going to wear that damn sweater if it was the last thing she ever did. "Ellie! Over here!" you called out into the busy store as you hurried over to the table.

Of course the merchandise for the most popular singer in the world would be almost gone so close to the holidays, but compounded with the fact that tickets were going on sale in just a few hours for the only show she planned on having in Austin caused your chances for finding what Ellie wanted even slimmer. But when you spotted one singular sweater folded and all alone on a display table, the very same one Ellie had pointed out on the website where it was listed as sold out everywhere, you let yourself for just one moment imagine your parents were looking out for you somehow.

With a sigh of relief and the smallest flicker of Christmas spirit, you reached out to grab the sweater, but your smile slipped from your face when you were met with some unexpected resistance in the form of another person's fist curling around the fabric from the other side of the table.

"Hey!" you exclaimed, eyes darting up to glare at the person who dared try to steal your victory. But when you locked eyes with quite possibly the most handsome man you had ever seen, your throat went dry and your grip on the sweater loosened.

"Shit, uh," he stammered, realizing your predicament. You both still held onto the sweater, unsure what to do. You blinked and looked around the crowded store.

"Maybe we can ask a worker if there's any more?" you tried, knowing full well there was close to a zero percent chance of there being any more in the back. It was a miracle you had found the one you did. Your handsome stranger seemed to have the same thought.

"Doubt it. Me and my kid have been searchin' all over town for this... stuff," he replied, motioning towards the empty table with a stunning photograph of the pop star in the center. "What do you want for it? I promised her I'd get somethin' for Christmas."

"Well, I promised my little sister the same thing," you argued with one hand on your hip. "I'm gonna try to get tickets later for the show and she's insisting she needs something with this girl's face on it to wear-"

"Yeah, same here," he said with an exasperated huff. It seemed as though you were at an impasse: two guardians who wanted to give the perfect Christmas to their respective teens, no matter how silly or frivolous it seemed to the two of you.

"Sarah?"

"Ellie?"

You each turned your heads towards the familiar voices. Both girls all wrapped up in bulky winter coats and scarves looked at one another in delight as they approached the table, ignoring you both and the sweater still held firmly in your hands.

"What are you doing here?" the curly haired girl, apparently named Sarah, asked your younger sister.

"Christmas shopping, duh!" Ellie laughed while holding up an armful of bags. Her eyes flickered to yours, then to Sarah's father, and then the sweater. "Oh, no," she said softly. Then Sarah glanced down and mirrored the same look as Ellie.

"How do you know each other?" you asked Ellie, hoping to deflect and buy some time.

"We go to school together. Sarah's a year older but we're in the same science class," she explained.

"Is this the last one?" Sarah asked her dad. Your eyes met again, neither of you wanting to let down your girls but still not sure what to do.

"Yeah, babygirl, but this nice lady had it first," he said, finally letting go of the fabric. You swallowed thickly, surprised by the kindness he showed you. It wasn't even true. If anything, you had both grabbed it at the exact same time.

You watched Sarah try to hide her disappointment and finally a lightbulb went off when you came up with a great idea.

"Hey," you said before they could walk away. The man turned to you with the softest pair of brown eyes you'd ever seen and your heart skipped a beat. "What if we all went to the concert together? The girls can share the sweater or something-"

"Yes!" both teens exclaimed while jumping on the balls of their feet. A slow smile stretched across the man's face before shrugging and extending his hand.

"Guess that's the plan. Name's Joel," he said. You told him your name and slipped your hand into his, both of you jumping when the static charge shocked you. Each of you laughed softly when you pulled away and the girls exchanged mischievous looks behind your backs.

"Well, alright, first thing's first - let's buy this damn thing before another person tries to take it and then maybe we can get something to eat in the food court. It's just a few hours til the tickets go on sale, we can make sure to get the seats together," you said, protectively bunching up the sweater under your arm.

After one quick disagreement over who should pay for the sweater (Joel won and you promised to buy him a beer at the concert to repay him), you found yourselves in the food court finishing up Panda Express and Cinnabon while you listened to the girls talk excitedly about the concert and which songs they'd hoped to hear.

"Can we go to the arcade?" Ellie asked once she got rid of your trash. You pretended to be annoyed but couldn't stop yourself from grinning when you handed over some money.

"Sure, just bleed us dry," Joel joked when handing over some cash to Sarah. She kissed him on the cheek before tossing a thanks, dad! over her shoulder and disappeared with Ellie into the arcade shoved in the corner of the food court.

You pressed your lips together and looked around, suddenly feeling a little nervous now that you were alone. For the past hour you had tried your best not to get caught giving googly eyes to the man sitting across from you, but it was hard when he was so painfully attractive.

"So, uh," you said, clearing your throat and pulling out your phone. "How many seats are we looking to get together? Just the four or is Sarah's mom going to be joining us?"

You knew he would be able to see right through you so you kept your eyes locked on your phone screen. The tickets weren't even on sale yet but you still pretended to scroll the website while you waited for his answer.

"Nah, just us. Her mom ain't in the picture anymore," he replied. You bit the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from smiling when he shifted in his seat and asked, "Uh, what 'bout you guys? You wanna bring a boyfriend or somethin'?"

"No, no boyfriend," you told him quietly, eyes shyly flickering up to his once before chickening out and looking back down at your phone. Joel smirked and leaned forward on his elbows.

"I ain't got anyone, either. Case you were wonderin'."

You nodded and pursed your lips while your heart did cartwheels in your chest.

"Good. That's good. You know, it's easier to get four seats together."

"Yeah, 'course," Joel replied. He watched you closely, catching the way you tucked your hair behind your ear and bit your lip. You heard Ellie's familiar laugh somewhere within the depths of the arcade and you smiled.

"Sounds like they're having fun," you said before forcing yourself to look him in the eye. It was then you noticed the first hints of grey in his beard dusting the corners of his jaw. He probably wasn't much older than forty and damn, did he wear it well.

"You're a good sister for doin' all this," he told you warmly. You sighed and began to rip up an unused napkin left on the table.

"I try to make the holidays extra fun for her ever since our parents passed away."

Joel's face softened and his eyebrows knit together.

"Shit, I'm sorry," he all but whispered. You saw his fingers flinch like he wanted to reach out across the table for your hand, but he kept them linked together. "When'd it happen?"

"Ellie was eight so, six years ago," you told him. "Car accident. Luckily they had me when they were young so I was already twenty-two when it happened. I had no idea what to do for the longest time but somehow we made it work. She's been so incredible. She's tough and strong and smart..." you trailed off and gave Joel a little smile. "Sorry, I'm rambling."

"Nah, don't worry 'bout it. I can relate. I mean, sort of. Sarah's mom took off when she was only a year old," Joel began. Your fingers paused their destruction on the napkin to listen. "I had no idea what to do, either. I had just started my construction business and for months I thought I'd have to sell it, but we just focused on gettin' through one day at a time. I had help from my brother and our parents but goddamn, there were days I was afraid I would fall asleep sawin' two by fours," he said with a chuckle.

"Crazy the things we're capable of when we're put to the test," you told him quietly. He nodded solemnly, scanning your face for a moment and you could have sworn his eyes lingered on your lips. The tips of his ears went a little pink when he tore his eyes away and you hid a smile behind your hand.

"So... you sure you wanna spend Christmas Eve at a concert with a stranger and his kid?" he teased, dragging his gaze back to you. He grinned when you leaned back and laughed.

"Yeah, why not? You're not gonna murder me, are you?"

"Nah, if I was gonna do that, I woulda done it back at the store," he joked, making you laugh even louder.

You were about to say something snarky in response when an alert went off on your phone and you gasped.

"Shit! The tickets! We have, like, two minutes before they go on sale!"

Joel scooted his chair closer so he could peer over your shoulder while you feverishly refreshed the page on your phone. It was a miracle you were able to think straight and snag four tickets together in a pretty decent section when all you could smell was his heavenly cologne insanely close to you.

"Okay, we did it!" you exclaimed when you got the confirmation email, then smiled when you got a Venmo notification with Joel's picture as the icon for his half of the tickets.

"Cute picture. Looks like you had a little too much fun that night," you giggled when you zoomed in on his heavy lidded eyes and the drink in his hand.

"Alright, alright, that was taken a long time ago," Joel chuckled while covering your phone with his palm. You swore you saw his cheeks starting to tint and it just made him even more adorable.

"Hey, so, uh... what's your number? You know, so I can send you the tickets," you tried to say casually, but he arched an eyebrow and leaned in so one arm rested on the table and the other on the back of your chair.

"If you just wanted my number, darlin', you coulda asked. Don't gotta pretend it's 'bout the tickets," he said with a smirk.

Your jaw dropped and you felt your face grow warm, making him laugh and lean in a little closer.

"Oh, you wish," you shot back when you got your bearings.

"Yeah, I do, actually," he replied smoothly. His laughter died down but his smile remained. "No pressure or nothin'," he added when you didn't answer right away.

"Oh! Um, well, ye-"

Ellie and Sarah interrupted your terrible attempt at flirting when they came racing up to you from across the food court, seemingly unphased by how close you and Joel were sitting.

"Did you get the tickets?" Ellie asked breathlessly when they made it to your table. Ah, no wonder they didn't seem to care.

"'Course we did. We're makin' Christmas dreams come true over here while you two are off wastin' our money in those damn machines," Joel said while gesturing towards the arcade.

"We?" you repeated while holding up your phone. Joel glanced at you with a twinkle in his eye and shrugged. But the girls didn't hear you because they were jumping around excitedly and babbling to one another about the concert. While they were distracted, Joel pulled out a pen from his shirt pocket along with a business card and flipped it over to jot down something on the back.

"Here," he said, handing you the card and standing up. You looked down at it briefly, Joel Miller, Miller Construction with a business number and fax with a little black and white house next to it. You flipped it over and your heart skipped a beat when you saw he had scrawled his cell phone number on the back.

"For the tickets or... anythin' else," he told you with a wink that made your knees weak.

"Okay," was all you could muster as you watched him and Sarah walk away. It took Ellie poking you in the ribs for you to snap out of it.

"Ouch!"

"You got the hots for Sarah's dad," she teased in a sing-song voice.

"I do not!" you argued. Ellie stood and began to walk in the opposite direction, back towards the part of the mall where you parked your car.

"So you won't mind if I ask Sarah what her dad thinks of you?" she called back over her shoulder with a smirk. You gasped and jumped up to chase after her.

"Don't you dare!"

Then you took a moment to think it over before adding, "Just don't let him think I was asking."

Ellie threw her head back and laughed. "Oh, boy, you got it bad."

Christmas Eve

You weren't sure why you were so nervous, but you were. The entire ride to the stadium had you fidgeting anxiously in your seat, every mile closer making your heart beat faster and faster.

It would be the first time seeing him since the mall, but it certainly wasn't the last time you spoke.

After about three days of trying to stay strong, you caved and texted Joel.

Saw a Miller Construction truck on the highway today but sadly, it wasn't you

To your delight, it only took him a few minutes to reply.

You need some work done, darlin? Cuz I can stop over any time ;)

You giggled to yourself, happy you didn't even need to tell him who you were. You were partly relieved that he wasn't talking to several women at once, and partly pleased that you made a big enough impression to be memorable.

After that, you somehow found yourself texting him almost every single evening. Like clockwork, Ellie would take a shower and do her homework in her room with music pumping from her speakers while you snuck away to your bedroom to text Joel. It started out simple. Questions like, How was your day? Did you get caught in that nasty storm? Are you going to the science fair? And eventually it morphed into more personal questions.

Joel: how do you take your coffee in the morning?

You: excuse me?

Joel: what? don't drink coffee?

You: why do you want to know? what popped into your head that made you ask that question?

Joel: I think I struck a nerve. Let me try another one - how do you like your eggs?

You: OMG

One night you both happened to be watching the same movie. You found it kind of endearing you were two of the few people left who still watched cable television, and you told him so when he got sick of texting you back and forth about the movie and opted to call you, instead.

At first, your nerves spiked when you saw him calling your phone, but you quickly shrugged it off and answered before you changed your mind. And you were glad you did. Talking to Joel was easy. You could sit in a comfortable silence and watch the movie with your phone pressed against your ear without feeling the least bit uneasy. Most of the time, your conversations were casual, but typically towards the end of the night they got a little flirty.

"Anyone ever do that for you?" he asked through the phone.

"What? Ask me to marry them?" you replied as you watched the two main characters on the television jump around happily with a sparkling ring on the girl's finger.

"Yeah."

You shook your head. "Nope. Been a little busy the past few years, haven't had time for much of a love life," you admitted, then cleared your throat, praying you didn't sound too pathetic. "What about you?"

"Nope. Never."

"Not even Sarah's mom?"

Joel scoffed. "Thought 'bout it once or twice but glad I didn't. Would've made shit a whole lot worse, lemme tell you."

You hummed sadly, not wanting to pry too much but also intensely curious. But right as you were about to change the subject, he spoke again.

"I think she hated bein' a mom," he suddenly said. You went quiet, eyebrows raised in surprise at his cold tone. "Blamed me for everythin' towards the end. Said it was my fault we even had a kid in the first place. Who the hell checks expiration dates on condoms? It was in my goddamn wallet for Christ knows how long and in the heat of the moment she expects me to turn on the light and look at the date?"

You could hear his hand dragging roughly through his beard when he sighed.

"Sorry. Anyway. She took off. Tried to stay in contact with Sarah but the second she found another guy she lost interest. Is what it is, I suppose," he said tiredly. Then he clicked his tongue and you heard his sheets shuffle. "What 'bout you? When was your last boyfriend?"

"Sarah's mom was your last relationship?" you asked, mentally doing the math. Joel chuckled.

"Last serious one. Had a few dates with a few women here 'n there, nothin' lasted more than a month. Now don't change the topic, tell me 'bout you."

"Uh, well, last year I guess. I was dating a guy named Tim. We were together... nine months? Give or take?" Your nose scrunched up as you tried to remember, surprised at how much time had passed.

"And what happened to the honorable Tim?" he asked with a teasing lilt to his voice.

"What always happens," you said, "People grow apart. People get busy and don't have the time to give." You lowered your voice to a grumble when you said, "Some people have to grow up fast and take care of their sister and can't look after a grown ass man at the same time."

Joel whistled on the other end of the phone and you felt the corner of your mouth twitch.

"He was lookin' for a mama, not a partner," Joel stated plainly. You nodded.

"Yeah. That's a good way to put it."

"Well, his loss is my gain."

You laughed, completely ignoring the movie by that point.

"Did I miss the part where we're dating?"

"We ain't?" he asked. "We talk every damn day. Tell each other everythin'. We just haven't made it official yet."

"And what would make it official, exactly?" you pressed with your heart hammering in your chest.

"First date, of course," Joel said, "Christmas Eve. It'll be our first date and we'll make it official."

You laughed nervously, cheeks on fire from how forward he was being.

"Well... okay."

That was four nights ago. Now you had parked your car and you were following Ellie towards the stadium along with thousands of other fans buzzing with excitement in every direction, completely unaware your excitement was for an entirely different reason.

"C'mon, this way! They said they'd meet us by gate seven," Ellie said, grabbing your hand to make you move faster. She was clad in the sweater her and Sarah promised to share: Ellie got it the first act of the concert, Sarah the second act. A week ago they had stayed after school to decorate tshirts to wear anyway, and it had you wondering why they even cared about the sweater anymore when they had so much fun making the shirts together, but you decided not to point it out and just be grateful the stupid sweater brought you and Joel together.

You spotted him before Ellie even pointed them out. The stadium was decorated with Christmas trees and the television screens mounted in every direction flashed pictures of the famous popstar wearing a Santa hat or other holiday garb, but you still saw him through all the noise. He was one of the few men in a sea of women, to start. But he was tall and broad and exactly as you remembered him: loose, dark curls that sat perfectly on top of his head, a slight dusting of grey at the corner of his jaw, and gorgeous dark eyes that you could drown in. When he turned his head and spotted you, your heart rate spiked and you raised one shaky hand in their direction.

The girls were oblivious practically the entire night. They were on cloud nine, screaming this is the best Christmas ever! and dancing to every single song while you and Joel watched them have the time of their lives.

It was impossible to talk. It was too loud and everything you wanted to say was too important to be yelled into his ear around eighty thousand people. So you stood next to him, hips swaying to the music, lips mouthing the words to the songs you recognized from the radio, and smiling as the girls screamed when they heard the first chord of the next song.

When the music quieted down to a ballad, the stadium grew more still and people brought out their phones with the flashlights on. It was kind of beautiful, you thought, to see so many tiny little lights moving in sync around the crowded arena. It felt like you were a part of something bigger and you finally understood why Ellie and Sarah were so excited to see the concert live.

"Pretty damn good first date," Joel said in your ear now that it was quiet enough to hear him. You grinned and tilted your chin up to look at him.

"Better than mini golf."

"Better than a movie."

"Better than bowling."

"Now, hey, wait," Joel said, making you laugh. He smirked. "I happen to like bowling."

"We can go bowling on our second date, then," you told him when your hand nervously found his at your side. Your fingers laced together and he drew you half a step closer.

"Deal," he replied, eyes flicking down to your mouth briefly before leaning down and pressing his lips tenderly against yours. You shouldn't have been surprised, but you were. However, you recovered quickly and immediately retuned the kiss while looping your other arm around the back of his neck. You could feel him smile as his lips continued to massage yours, temporarily forgetting where you were until you heard -

"Ew!" Sarah giggled somewhere behind you.

"Gross! Come on!" Ellie added, but you knew her well enough to know she was smiling. When you broke away and turned around, you confirmed your suspicion was correct. Both girls were staring at you with huge smiles plastered across their faces.

"Sorry," you told them, grateful for the dim lighting so they couldn't see how embarrassed you were. Joel's arm snaked around your waist from behind and tugged you close.

"Well, I ain't," he said firmly. "You two enjoy the concert and mind your own business."

Both girls dissolved into a fit of giggles and began whispering amongst themselves when Joel spun you back around. He cupped your face and dragged his thumb across your cheek with a smile.

"So, it's official?" he asked you. You grinned and nodded.

"Yeah. It's official."

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[pathologicalreid]

wake me from this dream | s.r.

in which you're struggling to come to terms with the kiss between Spencer and Cat, and you've finally reached your breaking point

margotober

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warnings: cat adams, spoilers for 15x6 "date night", cheating word count: 1.44k a/n: rah rah rah not really sure how i feel about this one tbh!! let me know what you think because i'm my own worst enemy. this was a request so i hope i can at least appease the requester!!

Everything felt different. You had never felt so out of place somewhere you should fit in like a piece of a puzzle, but you had lost so many pieces of this puzzle that you didn’t think it would ever be put together again.

The sheets on Spencer’s bed – that you had picked out – were so rough that they grated against your skin, but they didn’t always feel that way. You tried so hard, tried to fall back into the rhythm that you felt with Spencer before his date, but there were so many befores with Spencer that you were starting to lose track of them all.

Maybe you just didn’t get it. You didn’t get it the way the members of the BAU did. You closed your eyes and you saw your boyfriend kissing Cat Adams – someone you thought was in the past. 

So, you went back to routine, spending most of your time at Spencer’s apartment, you slept next to him at night, and everything looked the same, but it all felt wrong. Your relationship had once again been spurred into a state of limbo and you were beginning to think this was the one that you couldn’t come back from.

Eyeing your clothing on the floor where it had been haphazardly discarded upon your return from Rossi’s party, you sighed, listening to the running water in the shower as Spencer cleansed the day away. He had offered for you to join him, but you opted for a later shower, not interested in sharing the warmth of the water. Looking at the bathroom door, cracked open to let steam out, you slipped out of bed and crouched to pull your clothes off the floor before opening the drawer of the things you kept here and putting on something more comfortable than the dress you had worn to dinner.

You took the inside of your cheek between your molars before taking another glance back at the bathroom door and pulling on an old pair of shorts and a t-shirt. In your haste to get ready for tonight, you had forgotten to bring different shoes, so you looked more than a little disheveled as you slipped on your heels. Then again, maybe passersby would just assume it was another night in the District of Columbia.

Quietly, you closed the door to Spencer’s apartment, locking the door behind you and allowing your fingertips to linger on the handle. Finally convincing yourself to head out, you raked a hand through your hair and made your way out to your car. When would he notice you had gone? Would he mind? Would he call?

Turning the key in the ignition, you sighed as the cool air blew through the vents of your car, and without another thought, you checked your rearview mirror and drove home.

It felt like a rather unceremonious end to your relationship with Spencer, the person who everyone was expecting you to be with forever. You just never expected forever to have an expiration date.

This couldn’t be the end, though. You didn’t want yourself to be another victim at the hands of a hitwoman, but that was just what she wanted. Wasn’t it?

Your fears all came to mind while you dragged yourself through your shower routine, scrubbing every inch of your body as you considered your options. Without the presence of your boyfriend, you thought about what you really wanted.

You didn’t even hear the knocking until you got out of the shower. At first, you thought it was one of your neighbors, but as you pulled on clean pajamas, you realized it was your door. You checked out the peephole to see Spencer, hair still wet, looking agitated. You had done that to him.

Opening the door, your stomach flipped as he looked at you with an unidentifiable emotion in his eyes, “You just left.” He shrugged, the misery in his voice was made plain and it hurt you like a knife to the chest.

“I-“ you started, quickly snapping your mouth shut. What were you going to say? I didn’t mean to hurt you – but, hadn’t you? Hadn’t you intended on walking away?

Spencer held his hand up, signaling for you to stop, “I had been starting to wonder if you resented me.”

His words hit you like a strike across the face, “What?” Your question came out as light as a breath, there was a litany of emotions that you felt for Spencer, but resentment was far from any of them. He must have come right away, droplets of water still fell from his hair with every slight movement.

“I put your family in danger,” he answered as if that completely answered your question.

You frowned, “Cat and Juliet put my family in danger,” you corrected.

Spencer shook his head dismissively, “And neither of them would even know who you are if it wasn’t for me.”

Your lips parted, looking for the right words to put him at ease, “I don’t care about that.”

He furrowed his brows, obviously confused at your statement, “You don’t?”

“No,” you informed him, “I mean, I cared at the time because my family was in danger.”

Taking a deep breath, Spencer dragged a hand down his face, “Please, Y/N… I just…” his voice trailed off for a moment before coming back, “Just spell it out for me, baby. I can’t guess. I can’t.”

You mouth felt dry as you leaned your head against the doorframe, looking up at him with sorrow-filled eyes, “You kissed her, Spence.” Your voice was soft, “You kissed her and we never spoke about it again.”

Each stage of grief crossed over your boyfriend’s face as he took in the full weight of what you just told him, “I thought you wouldn’t want to talk about it. I have been trying so hard to put everything back to the way it was before any of… this happened.”

Shaking your head, you crossed your arms in front of your chest, “You can’t!” You told him earnestly, “It’s just… you can’t!” You said recognizing that you were beginning to raise your voice in the heat of the moment, and the last thing you needed tonight was a noise complaint. You opened your door for Spencer to come in, and he barreled through the doorway like he was on a mission. You took a deep breath, “Things are too different now, Spencer. It can’t go back to the way that it was. We aren’t machinery, there’s no reset button for this.”

The hurt in his expression was so palpable that you nearly excused yourself to sit down, but you stood your ground and met him stare for stare. “What are you saying?” He asked, his voice gentle, like he was waiting for a fatal blow.

“I’m saying that we can’t keep going on like this,” you said helplessly, “I can’t keep going on like this.” Don’t let this be the end. Don’t let this end. Spencer, please.

Spencer shook his head, frowning for a moment before looking around your apartment, “Move in with me.”

Your jaw dropped, “Pardon?”

“Move in with me,” he repeated. “Move in with me and we can make it different. We can move somewhere else if you don’t want to move to my place, but I can’t… I can’t lose you, so let’s do something different.”

Now you really did need to sit down, “I can’t…” you swallowed your tears before they had a chance to emerge, “I can’t move in with you if this is just you looking at losing me and making an extreme decision to stop that from happening.”

Kneeling in front of you, Spencer took both of your hands and clasped them in his, “I am asking you to move in with me, unhindered and uninfluenced, because I love you. You want to see change, right? This is change. This is different and new and it’s nothing like before, so we won’t have to compare it to anything.”

You studied his eyes as they bore into your own, “I don’t… I don’t know.”

“I’ll beg,” he insisted, “I’m already on my knees, just say the word, baby.”

It was impossible to resist the smile that grew on your face, “When did you get so dramatic?”

He sighed, his shoulders slouching forward as he set his forehead on your conjoined hands, “So, we should start apartment hunting? Or we could buy a house?”

You reclaimed one of your hands, wiping tears from your face before playing with his messy, damp hair, “Yeah,” you whispered, “but I’m not moving any of your books.”