#did i do it anyway and lose my mind in the process?

[daydreamerwonderkid]

Have the kids seen Bruce in his “I definitely did not kill my husband” robes?

I'd say they're pretty used to it by now.

Stare at my stupid overly detailed kitchen, boy.

[aro-aizawa]

HI YES HOW AM I GONNA SURVIVE ML S5 IF THE S4 FINALE TOOK ME OUT COMPLETELY

[devosin]

GRIM ACCIDENTLY OUTING YOUR CRUSH ON HIM !! . . grim accidently blurting out how much you love the dorm head . .

gender neutral reader / fluff / crack taken seriously / mutual pinning

a/n: this has been rotting in my idea list for like over 2 years, enjoy! og account: @/cupids-chamber

MALLEUS DRACONIA

Malleus was surprised, when you had decided to tag along on his Gargoyle Study Club meeting, however he was ecstatic with the idea of you joining him, while he talked about his favorite things. Truly an exciting time, talking to his favorite person about his favorite things!

For once he didn't quite mind having no one at the meetings, because he got to spend time with you—and Grim . . he's there too . . In fact, Malleus kind of finds it endearing he stuck around this long with you, listening to him, despite clearly not being interested in the topic.

Malleus walked around, showing you his collection of gargoyles—explaining the extensive history of each one, and you listened, throughout his explanations which most people would find extremely boring, though seeing how passionate he was about the subject, you couldn't help but be engaged.

You followed along behind him, as he showed you each one, Grim on your shoulder, yawning rather loudly—clearly bored with the past hour, where you dragged him into Malleus's club meeting, which you passed off as a 'morale' thing to do—when he can clearly tell you did this because you liked him.

"Ah . . I have something I want to give to you"—Malleus shifted through the drawers, looking for the miniature gargoyles he had made for the both of you (well just you, he figured grim would appreciate something more . . edible . . he got tuna.).

Grim leans in closer to you, whispering rather loudly, so much so you knew Malleus could hear, "henchman, how much longer . . my whiskers are turning white here!!", he whispered all bit dramatically, and you sighed internally, mumbling a soft, "Grim not right now", in response.

After a few more moments of silence, Grim leaned back, and exclaimed, "You seriously like this guy, he likes gargoyles more then I like tuna—"

Grim paused, realizing he spoke a little more than he really should've. . . and Malleus paused, dropping whatever was in his hand to the floor, turning blankly at you, looking at you with a dumbfounded look on his face . . (he's processing, give him a minute.)

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

Riddle isn't the kind of person to intrude in a conversation, especially when he knows he isn't wanted there (debatable)—He also doesn't enjoy listening in on others private conversations . . However, this case is different, obviously he has the right to be curious when you're being so very loud, I mean practically everyone can hear you!

His heels clicked on the floors, as he raced through the halls—Riddle doesn't often find himself in a rush, but lunch had started 5 minutes ago, and he was running behind on his schedule.

His hands gripped his notes tightly, and just as he was about to make a turn, he heard his name . .—Riddle stopped in his tracks, looking around, in order to find the source of the noise, that's when he spotted you . . and grim, who was speaking rather loudly.

Now, Riddle swears he's not purposefully ease-dropping, but Grim was loud. . he was bound to overhear anyways! . . Well that's what he'll keep telling himself, in order to ease the guilt of listening in on your private conversations.

"Riddle?!" Grim exclaimed, waving his little paws around in shock, "out of everyone henchman, you like that—", you covered Grim's mouth with your hand, whispering loudly in response, "Why don't you tell the whole school I like Riddle, Grim?!?"

Riddle paused in response to that, 'you liked him? . . as in romantically? . .', Riddle loses his grip on his notes, in shock. Papers scattered the floor with a thud, and before Riddle could fix the mess he had accidently caused, you turned, and faced him . . This is gonna be one long confessio—conversation.

VIL SCHOENHEIT

See, Vil isn't the kind of person to believe in a rumor or petty gossip that he hears across the halls of Pomefiore, because if there's drama then Octavinelle and Pomefiore are the absolute first at the crime scene—He's well aware of how a small lie and a fake rumor can go and ruin someone's life, which is why Vil prefers information from the source.

That being said, Vil does enjoy gossip—and at time's he draws his own conclusion to a topic, and keeps it to himself, he's on the middle line of it all, but you bet, he'll 'coincidentally' overhear all the drama going on at your family reunion but don't worry, he's amazing with secrets. (Headcanon: he probably pretends not to like gossip, but still listens and reacts when Rook tells him what he overheard)

And this is why Vil couldn't help it but approach Grim when he heard him complaining begrudgingly to himself, about you kicking him out and making him run 'errands' . . which were more likely then not, a distraction.

"Oh it's nothing, henchman just needed privacy . . ya . .", Vil raises a brow, and Grim should've shut down, but when a can of good tuna got involved . . Well a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do.

Grim took the can of tuna from Vil, "They're preparing a confession letter", Grim spoke and Vil couldn't help but feel a pang of betrayal at the revelation, how could they like someone else . . When he's breathing! (At least wait till he's cremated, like gosh . . So as long as his body exists, even if he's not breathing, you should love him frfr #hawkmothcore for the win) . .

"To who?", Vil asks, curiously, and Grim stares at him blankly, "I'll give you another can to go—" he offers, "Gimme it right now, and I'll tell ya'".

Vil sighs, handing him another can, "The letter is for ya', henchman likes you—".

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

Now normally, Leona could care less as to what goes on in the botanical garden, while he takes a nap there (mainly because he's too asleep to register his surroundings), because even with his acute sense of hearing, rarely anyone visits, and if they do, they only do so to take a break or catch a breather, or to just immerse themselves in the garden as a sort of escape, so it's usually all quiet and soothing, for the most part.

However, some days he wasn't so lucky, be it students randomly popping in so they could skip class, or to have a picnic, or that random couple, who thinks it'd be a cute and adorable idea to have a date in the botanical garden because no-one goes there, and it's so secretive and the mystery excites them. (he hates, he fucking hates it, he's the biggest hater there is, he despises all couples equally.)

Leona was all comfortable, half-asleep, his eyes were closed as he was ready to just get some shut-eye, sleep for a couple hours—until, he heard footsteps, rather loud ones . . Now, he normally doesn't care, and to be frank, he doesn't care right now, he figured they're taking a small stroll, and will stop . . eventually. (delusional king!!)

"Grim this is ridiculous—", Leona's ears perked up as he heard your voice, now that had his eyes wide open, looking around for you . . Well he's not that curious, as to what you find 'ridiculous' (he's very curious, he needs to know each detail, tell him everything), but he does hope you expand on it.

"C'mon henchmen! The best way to get over someone is confess and get closure?", Grim was confused himself, with whatever he was saying, "Oh yea Grim, which class did you learn that from, romance 101 with Crowley?—", Leona snorts.

"No actually I asked Trien!" Grim says . . a bit too confidently for comfort, "Grim . . I don't think you should be proud of that", you point out.

"Just tell Leona you like him? He's not gonna kill ya"

". . ." Leona froze, . . you liked him? I mean yea that makes sense, he's really attractive, but you—Liked him? . .

AZUL ASHENGROTTO

Azul states that he doesn't favor you that much—although the twins will argue otherwise, especially since Azul got you to taste test the new Monstro Lounge menu items, before he released it . . before even tasting it himself, . . and maybe he didn't want to let it slip that he liked you only—because he ended up also inviting Grim to taste the food with you—And with Crowley's payments . . well you were more than willing to accept free food.

To be fair, Azul is aware you do get a bit more special treatment, and deep-down he's well aware he likes you, but confronting his feelings? in this economy? . . not gonna happen . . He'd rather you assume he's a cat person who likes Grim, because clearly that's what you think of him, since he's so pretty and smart and good at covering his feelings. (He's not, he's boyfailing a little too close to the sun.)

Azul had everything set up—and by that he means, he had a plan and got other people to set it up for him, according to said plan, because he couldn't give away the fact that he had planned it himself, no . . that would make it seem like he was into you, and he'd rather die then you know that—In fact, he'd rather have his tentacles inked dry and cut off, fried and dipped in his ink, and shoved so far down his throat he chokes and dies before that even remotely comes close to happening.

You sat beside Azul, as he asked asked you about the food, and you gave responses that he mostly liked, . . well you did have some comments about the blue cheese rigatoni . . But to be fair, he entrusted the blue cheese to Floyd . .

Grim was half-way through his food, when he randomly spoke, with his mouth rather full, "This is amazing . . I can see why you like this guy henchman . .—" Azul paused and he practically stopped blinking, if his ears could perk up, then it would right now, "—for once your taste in men . . has good justification henchm—" Grim only paused when he recognized your glare, and only then did he realize how badly he fucked up . . "I'm not getting the good tuna for awhile . . am I?"

KALIM AL-ASIM

Kalim doesn't usually come in without an appointment (lies), or before informing you beforehand (lies on top of lies), and he doesn't really like invading your personal time (and lies again) . . at least not knowingly, but today was different . . he wanted to go somewhere with you! It's a surprise, and surely you'd appreciate him randomly popping into your dorm and dragging you outside, in the sunlight like an upstanding citizen and friend.

Kalim settles on the couch in the lounge of Ramshackle, stretching his arms out as he gets comfortable. All the while, Grim stares him down, . . something Kalim noticed off the get-go, "Why are you looking at me like that?", he calls out, confused and a tad bit unnerved at the blatant piercing stare.

"You're the one henchman likes, right? . .—what's your credit score? . . how many cans of tuna are we talking—"

Kalim paused, ". . . what?", he asks blankly, still paused at the first half of Grim's sentence, enough to not notice or take offense to the rest of his words and questions. "Why can't ya' hear me . . ?! I asked what's your credit scor—", grim responds, only to be cut-off mid-sentence by Kalim "BEFORE THAT!"

"That you're the person henchman lik—", Grim pauses as he hears your voice, and as you enter the room, Grim realizes his mistake, "Fuck."

"Kalim act natural!" Grim asks, as he goes back into his usual stance, but as he see's Kalim not moving, . . "who am I kidding . . no one can get shit through to ya' in one go . . I'm fucked."

IDIA SHROUD

Idia had his gaming equipment set up for two, well it would be three—but paws and controllers isn't the most fun thing to play around with, therefore Grim has opted to watching, instead of playing. Which he gets bored of rather fast, and well Ortho preferred to watch his older brother then play, or do normal kid things like advanced calculus.

Although Idia didn't really mind that, he enjoyed playing with you, because you were a really good challenge, a true gamer! . . And with newer games, he found that you listened and got the hang of it fast, and it was fun helping you grow your account on his favorite games, and it was also fun listening to you ramble about your favorite games from your world.

"So yea in genshin impact—", you rambled on and on about the Fontaine chapter, and about the 'archon' which was like the great seven, and how sad her storyline was, Idia dabbled in Lore from time to time, though he really found it amusing how you took the time to describe everything, you really helped immerse him in the storyline, and to be honest, sometimes he could imagine he was playing the game with you.

"—and then if you went into this specific area you could actually hear her cry . . OH oh! . . and when Neuvillette cried, it would like downpour so hard . . ", you continued rambling, and Idia would just listen, so much so that you guys completely forgot the game you were actually playing . . which seemed to upset Grim, who wanted to watch.

"Yea yea . . henchmen, we get it was sad, and it's fun talking to the love of your life—but could we please have more playing and less talking!", Grim explained rather dramatically, his paws flinging up, only to be silenced when he saw the two of you silent, looking at each other . . and then Idia's hair burst up in bright pink flames . .

commissions / discord server / comfort letters

@ devosin , do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work/theme without prior permission and or confirmation.

[dduane]

Do you have any recommendations on what to do when you can’t write?

I’ve been struggling to write for years, but telling stories is all I want to do. I have ideas and plots and characters all figured out! But actually getting the words onto paper? I just can’t do it. There’s a mental block or something getting in the way.

I want to write, I so badly do. I want to tell my stories! But no matter how hard I try, no matter how much I love the story, the words never work properly. I can day dream scenes up perfectly, but as soon as I’m near paper the words all vanish.

I guess what I’m actually asking is: how did you defeat the blank page?

Well, first of all, I can confidently tell you that your storytelling per se is working just fine. You just told me a perfectly cogent story right there, in writing. So that's good to know.

Now let me put your mind a little at rest by telling you something reassuring about the Writer's Brain:

It's not the sharpest knife in the block, if you take my meaning. It can be tricked. It can be fooled. It can be bamboozled into working when it doesn't want to... sometimes with embarrassing ease. (And this approach is, by and large, far preferable to sitting around over-analyzing one's interior life to figure out what went wrong with your developmental process somewhere in the dim lost past. Just hornswoggle the silly thing into working and then do the analysis later, if you can be bothered.)

Sometimes just changing something basic in the process the Writer's Brain is expecting is enough to make it lose the plot (so to speak...) and let you get on with work. And in your case I'd say, more or less immediately: Have you tried telling the story to yourself out loud, recording it, and then transcribing the recording?

Because this problem is a commonplace among storytellers. Sit them down in the pub and give them tea or a drink and start them going, and you'll get half an effortless hour of hilarious prose about What The Cat Did In The Middle Of The Night or When The Neighbors Were Fighting In The Street Again Yesterday. But show them blank paper, or an empty screen, and (now that the pressure to perform is suddenly in place) they freeze.

So try doing an end run around your writing brain. Borrow or otherwise procure a little recorder of some kind. (Or if you've got a smartphone, add a voice recording app to it.) Go get comfortable somewhere and get yourself into that daydream state, and then—making sure the recorder's on—start talking.

It doesn't have to be perfect unblemished prose. The pursuit of that comes later, after draft zero-minus-one. Just tell the story... or some of it. Or a fragment of it. Even a few paragraphs is a triumph, in a situation like this. You may, during the recording, have to talk yourself into the story stage by starting out talking about something else first. Let that happen.

Then when you're done recording, listen to it and transcribe it (typed or handwritten, as you please).

And maybe a day later, do this again. And a day or two later, once more. And so forth.

You're going to have to keep at this, because your Writer's Brain may start suspecting what you're up to, and try throwing spanners into the works. (Its favorite being "Oh, this isn't working, I may as well give up..." Pay no attention to that nagging little voice behind the curtain. Just keep doing what you're doing. Persistence is a superpower.)

The thing to keep reminding yourself, as you settle into this process, is that sooner or later the WB's resistance is going to flag, because you really do want to tell stories. It does too. What you have to teach it is that—to coin a phrase—resistance is useless. :)

Anyway: give this a try. You'll need to be doing this daily for at least a couple of months to find out whether it works or not. So let me know how it goes.

(BTW: once you've broken through the barrier, you may well find that dictation is a good routine way for you to generate your first draft. At that point—should you feel inclined to go a little higher-tech than recording and hand transcription—let me recommend Dragon Anywhere. This is a month-to-month subscription version of Dragon's flagship text to speech program—the one @petermorwood and I got Terry Pratchett to use when he started having difficulty typing. I use Anywhere a lot, on days when it's easier to write stretched out or lying down than it is sitting up. It transcribes what you say, and then you can just email it to yourself and cut-and-paste it into your writing document. Very handy.)

Hope this helps!

[skaldish]

Alright folks. Here it is, my theory of what Ragnarok actually represents. It is very messy and I'm not sure I'm going to be able to actually convey my understanding clearly like I try with most things, because genuinely this is shit I would write a doctorate-level thesis on.

But we're going to try anyway.

So. After doing a lot to try to replicate animistic thinking, as well as taking a VERY deep read of the Norse myths, my theory is that Ragnarok is specifically allegory for societal collapse—the "end of the world" imagery and such is meant to convey what this feels like.

Recall what Odin says in Grimnismal. It goes something like this, since I can't be arsed to find the exact quote:

Huginn and Muninn fly over the world every day; while I fear Huginn ("thought") may not return, I fear Muninn's ("memory's") absence most.

When a society collapses, so does it's memory. It loses its technology, its methodologies, its paradigms, and everything it has learned about the world up to that point. Gone. Entire chapters of history erased.

What causes societal collapse is not always a conquering force, but is oftentimes the result of circumstances that a society orchestrates for itself. Think Rome.

People who have gone through societal collapse will probably develop an invested interest in figuring out how to prevent it entirely, so they don't have to start society all over again.

It's one thing to preserve the memory of "things collapsed and here's why" using a story. But it's another thing to do what apparently the Norse people did, which is cultivate a methodology for cognitively hardening their own society against collapse, using stories as a way to do it.

Like...I'm not kidding when I say they legitimately knew how the human mind works, and then built an entire system of stories and narratives that intentionally support the mind's freedom, cultivation, and agency. I can only convey a fraction of how this works in this post because the rest requires a deep-dive into behavioral psychology and neurological development.

All the tales leading to Ragnarok demonstrate various instances where the gods choose to follow their own agendas at the expense of the real people and forces in the world. All of these little things contribute to the magnitude of the event that is Ragnarok.

The tales represent these transgressions using allegories rather than literal events. This is because these stories were designed for children, who don't process information through a prefrontal cortex like we do as adults. They don't have them yet. But this gives kids an intuitive understanding for how circumstances of collapse feel, so they can recognize them in all their forms.

Loki is an allegory for the mischief we feel as children, and for the behaviors we demonstrate before we get to the age where we start valuing cooperation. In the myths, every time Loki causes mischief in ways that creates problems, the gods get mad at him and threaten Loki's life until he fixes his mess. Loki eventually becomes vindictive, kills Baldr in a jealous fit, and then is punished by being bound and buried beneath the ground, only to fight against the gods in Ragnarok.

The surface-level takeaway is a lesson in parenting: If we punish kids for their mischief, they're going to become vindictive adults, and these adults are going to have it out for the rest of society because they've been disenfranchised.

But it doesn't just end here. Consider how we punish ourselves for our own sense of mischief, beating ourselves up for having "problematic" thoughts and trying to bind and bury those thoughts in the depths of our mind.

These thoughts come from a place our mind known as the limbic system, which is focused on avoiding pain and seeking pleasure, and—most importantly—does not understand the world or make decisions using logic and reason, but in terms of what feels enjoyable and what doesn't.

We tend to call this system our inner child.

When we punish our inner child, that child starts doing exactly what Loki does and resorts to malicious and petty tricks. We can hold this behavior at bay until something causes us to "snap" (like Jörmungandr's tail does) and out comes the malice of the disenfranchised inner child, which creates a terrible cascade of social consequences for us.

Now, if we were to listen to these stories as kids, we would naturally be very upset whenever Loki was threatened of punished, because we think out of the limbic system at that age and Loki is meant to represent us—specifically, the state of being a kid. We would see what comes to pass, with Loki being imprisoned and fighting the gods against Ragnarok, and it would become clear to us that there's consequences for punishing mischief AND also causing too much of it.

Now I don't know about you, but I was very motivated by a sense of justice as a kid. Hearing Loki's arc would have inspired me to learn how to be friends with my sense of mischief while also learning to use it in ways that were cooperative and social, because this would have been how I could right the wrong I felt was done to Loki. It would also mean my own limbic system will not fight against me in the future, but be a modality of thought I can always access. (This is the beauty of the way the Norse myths are crafted; they are designed to instill knowledge of the world using mechanisms that reinforce one's own sense of agency and competency, so rather than being told the moral of this tale, it sets me up to run right into the conclusion it wants me to draw, but in a way that makes me feel smart and therefore inspires me to value it.)

The binding of Fenrir serves a similar allegory. When we become explosively angry in the way that Fenrir represents, it consumes our wisemind the same way Fenrir consumes Odin during Ragnarok. But this only happens if we bind Fenrir/our anger. By demonizing this nature of ours simply for existing, it will not only refuse to listen to us, but also turn against us. Remember that Fenrir was willing to socialize and cooperate with the gods before his betrayal.

(Honestly, I believe this is why ulfheiðnar existed the way they did. Even though the animalistic rage of ulfheiðnar was too terrible for domestic society, it was not demonized, but instead given a social function. People would learn to understand and partner with their own sense of rage, and I'm guessing this is also how they were able to keep their sense of reason and priorities straight even while going berserk from psychoactives.)

These two examples serve to illustrate how societal collapse stems from binding or punishing our own natures. But also fearing our own nature as mortals factors into it.

For example, Naglfar. This is a ship constructed of dead people's fingernails, and its completion is part of what signals the beginning of Ragnarok. But as the story goes, we can delay Naglfar's construction by trimming the nails of the dead before we bury them.

Naglfar represents "neglect for the dead," and this is significant because the act of no longer viewing the dead as people is sort of like the canary in the coal mine for no longer view each other as people...and no longer seeing people as people is what defines Ragnarok.

A society is at peace when its people have no fear of death, and having no fear of death comes only by incorporating death as a normal and familiar part of life, just like we do with birth. Our relationship with death is a litmus test for our relationship with our own humanity—if we fear the dead and cannot see them as human beings, then we are always going to fear a part of our own humanity, and be at war with it. The simple act of keeping the nails of the dead well-groomed because it stalls Naglfar's construction was a way to remind people why such a simple act was profoundly important.

And these are just the things that I can think of off the top of my head that are the most obvious examples. There are—and I shit you not—multitudes of these things laced within the Norse myths.

(I haven't even gotten to the part about how the Norse creation myth uses what the womb feels like to characterize it. Telling this story to very little children helps them establish a sense of familiarity, belonging, and secure attachment with the entire world from the get-go. If they learn the world is everything they've already experienced, then their bodies will never be afraid of it, because nothing about it will feel unknown or unknowable. Like, how fucking dope can you get.)

So here's where we get to the really dense irony of all this: Why we don't pick up on all these nuances as Westerners and have so far missed this entirely.

It is for two reasons.

The first is because our society values the things that the Norse people identified as contributing to societal collapse—namely, the act of conquering/competing against other forces and conquering/competing against our own natures. The transgressions of the Aesir are not things we register as problematic because to us they're normal.

The second is that we don't think animistically. The way we are taught to convey, interpret, and transmit information is designed PURELY by and for the prefrontal cortex, with neglect to everything else (if you ever wonder why Americans look weird in how we behave, this is why). But because we only prioritize communicating this way, we're missing out on all the context added within the Norse myths. These myths function the same way Old Norse kennings did, in that they are designed to speak to ALL areas of the brain at once and in tandem, but if we only engage with it using one part of the brain, we're only going to get a small piece of the picture and the rest is going to look weird.

(Little experiment for you: Try to logic something out in your mind or think through a complex problem without using words or sentences to do it. Use any other kind of thought-process besides language. I promise you that not only is this possible, but it yields a completely different kind of experience and conclusion than you might otherwise reach.)

Honestly, I don't even think Snorri himself fully understood what he was looking at when he was recording the Norse myths. I think he was just writing them down according to how they were told, word-for-word. But his cluelessness is our good fortune now, because he not only preserved the cultural stories, but also what I consider an entire cognitive technology.

And every time I look at it, I can't help but think about the generations of people who sat around the fire in the dead of winter, weaving, crafting, and figuring out better ways to fortify their society, raise kids so they became fine and truly fearless people, and conserve information. This is, as far as I'm concerned, real magic.

They knew some shit.

[certaimromance]

𝜗𝜚 So close, Quantico.

Post prison Reid x Fem!reader

Read part one here!

Summary: A strange visit to the prison ends with an unexpected confession of love and makes you run away again. You were ready to leave, but maybe this time he'll make you stay.

Words: 2,5k.

TW: literally none, just drama and sweet love+emily being a bestie. english is not my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: I didn't expect to be asked for a second part because I'm still new here and I don't think anyone will read me (intrusive thoughts lol), but here I am giving it to you because Spencer needs a happy ending!

♡ Enjoy! ♡

Just as you sat down and pulled out a travel magazine to read while you waited for your flight, you got a call from Emily. You frowned and were confused for a few seconds until you remembered that you hadn't told her that you were going back to London so soon and that the possibility of having a drink together would not be fulfilled. You hadn't even said goodbye in person, and it was only now that you realized it.

You hadn't noticed anything after working on Spencer's case for four days straight and losing your mind over it. It was the first time you hadn't seen your client or personally briefed him on the progress of the investigation, and that impersonality made everything strange, but you knew he didn't want to see you, and you weren't going to push him. At least you managed to get him released on parole after you found some evidence of third party involvement in his alleged crime. And as soon as you were informed of this decision, you assigned a trusted lawyer to the case, booked a flight, and packed your bags.

“Don't hate me, but I'm about to catch a flight and I forgot to tell you.” You said quickly as soon as the call started and you could hear a sigh of shock from the other end.

“You what? Why? You just got here and we haven't even had a chance to talk and drink wine.” She replied after a few minutes of processing the information.

“I'm really sorry, Ems. I have things to do at my office and my work here is already done.” You tried to explain as you fiddled with the hem of your skirt. You didn't like the idea of looking like you were running away again, even if you were. “I really have to go.”

“You have or you want?”

The question alone made you sigh and question being best friends with a profiler. It was impossible to hide your feelings and thoughts from her.

“It doesn't matter...anyway, you can visit me whenever you want, I have plenty of wine at home.” You spoke trying to avoid her question at all costs. “Penelope and JJ can come, girls' night out and all.”

“And Spencer...?” She asked in a cautious tone, knowing that this was a complicated subject. After all, Emily was the one who had to put up with your sighing and crying over Reid for years.

“He's not a girl.”

You could almost see her roll her eyes at your answer, and by the tone of her voice when she told you she meant it, you knew she did.

“Seeing him was as strange as I imagined, but confirming that he doesn't want to see me and that he hates me felt worse than I thought. I have to face this from a distance.” You tried to explain and put into words the feelings you were avoiding.

“He doesn't hate you, and he definitely wants to see you.” She corrected you, making you frown.

“What? Please don't try to make me feel better with emotional profiling tricks.” You said wearily, looking up at the big screen with the flight schedules and realizing that it was still more than half an hour before your plane was due to arrive.

“These are not tricks. Seriously, if he didn't want to see you, he wouldn't have asked me for your hotel address yesterday.”

Your heart stopped at that moment, and any attempt to focus your attention on something else, or even keep your cool, failed. You didn't want to get your hopes up again and sound like a fool for getting excited about something so minimal.

“I'm not even at the hotel anymore, and he never went there.” You tried to control your nervousness and conceal how this information had thrown you. “Ems, my flight arrives in 30 minutes, I have to leave you, but I promise to call you more often and visit you sometime. I love you.” You ended in a chaotic way.

“Well, me too. But don't disappear, I'll wait for that girls' night.” She replied, defeated by your insistence, and paused before speaking again. “And tell Reid we have a case in Utah, we're leaving in 30.”

“What?” You asked immediately, not understanding if you had heard wrong, but she had already hung up.

You looked up again, expecting to see the central screen with the schedules, but instead of seeing your flight number in bright letters, you saw Spencer's brown eyes searching for you a few feet away. You had to blink several times to confirm that it was him and that you weren't hallucinating, and only then did Emily's last words make sense.

Was he here to see you? Was it possible?

You remained motionless in your seat, as if bound to it, and watched as Reid walked at a brisk pace straight towards you. It was the first time you had seen him since that chaotic visit to the prison, and you still had a bittersweet taste in your mouth from that interaction. He was wearing a suit now, probably the clothes he wore to work, and he looked like he had run several miles, judging by his disheveled hair and labored breathing.

“What are you doing here?” You asked as soon as you had him in front of you, rising from your seat to be at his height even though you were several inches shorter.

“I needed to talk to you for days and you never came to see me again.” He explained, still trying to regulate his breathing after searching for you all over the airport. “About what you told me before you left.”

“I didn't come back because you made it clear that you didn't want to see me, and I respected your wish.” You explained as calmly as you could. “And as for what I said, there's no need to talk about it. It's outdated and I shouldn't have brought it up.”

You saw him sigh and fidget chaotically for a second before he spoke again. He seemed nervous, as if he had rehearsed the conversation a thousand times in his mind.

“I need to talk about this. You told me you were in love with me...I just found out and I couldn't stop thinking about it, it's stuck in my head because you never told me.” He tried to speak slowly, but it was as if the old Spencer you once knew had reappeared and started babbling. “You said you were leaving because you were offered a better position and you were bored with this job, you never mentioned that...that you liked me.”

“My flight leaves in less than 30 minutes, I can't talk now.” You tried to get out of the situation, but he gently grabbed your arm before you could escape. And with a sigh, you spoke again. “Good. I never told you how much I liked you, but that doesn't change anything.”

You pulled away from his touch and putting your hands on your bags so you could leave soon.

“It changes. It really changes everything.”

“What? How?” You dropped the suitcases and looked at him in confusion.

He remained silent for a few seconds, looking at the clock on the bright screen above you, trying to use the little time he had to talk to you and express himself. He felt the words catch in his throat, and it was a disappointment after having only you as the protagonist of all his thoughts since you had visited him, pushing away any possibility of holding a grudge against you because the only thing on his mind was doubt about what would have happened if he had known.

Spencer had spent so many years locked in hate, trying to hold a grudge against you for leaving, leaving nothing but torturous memories in an eidetic memory and a ridiculous need for a hug from you every time things went wrong. And suddenly you showed up, looking as beautiful as ever, saving him from a traumatic experience and delivering information he never expected.

He had only been free for a few days and yet everyone looked at him differently, from pity to fear, knowing that prison had changed him forever. But not you, you looked at him as if he were the same as always, even though years had passed and you had only seen his worst face again.

“If I had known...if you had told me I...” He stammered, trying to find some courage to stop feeling like the same young man you had left. “You would know that I felt the same way.”

At that moment, you almost had to sit up again because of the impression his words had made on you. You closed your eyes and opened them again to make sure that you were not hallucinating and that it was really the one you had been dreaming about for years who was telling you that he also felt something for you before.

“You don't have to lie...no, don't lie to me like that just because I got you out of jail.” You started to blurt out, completely denying the strong beating of your heart.

“I appreciate you doing this, but I won't lie to you. I could never do something like this.” He assured you, looking you straight in the eye for confirmation. “And if you don't believe me, I can tell you exactly when I first realized I liked you, it was November 8, 2005, it was 11:35 in the morning because I looked at the clock. You had completed your third month with us and you went to talk to Gideon and Hotch because you wanted to get out in the field and stop doing paperwork. You were so nervous about getting fired that you grabbed my hand before you left, but you didn't notice because you were busy listening to my comments about your performance. I thought it was nothing and that I was just nervous because you were the only one I was talking to and I was afraid of losing you, but before you left you smiled at me and I knew everything was going to be okay. Again I thought it was nothing...but every time things went wrong I thought about it, I still do because that smile is probably the cutest thing I've ever seen in my life.”

“I...” You tried to speak and formulate even one word, but it kept getting stuck in your throat.

“Wait, I'm not done yet.” He interrupted you, saving you from a possible babble. “I never told you because I thought you didn't feel the same way and that you saw me as a younger brother to be taken care of. I'd rather have you as a friend than not have you at all, so I left it in my mind as an impossibility and I thought I was completely over it until you left and I lost my mind...and it's happening again.”

“God, I need to sit down.” It was all you could say at the time as you tried to process everything he said.

You sat down with his help and watched him relax a little as he finished speaking, as if he had waited a long time to say it and had practiced it many times. You felt your heart pound after years of dreaming of hearing those words from him. You had never imagined a life where Spencer felt anything more than friendship for you, and now it was real. He had loved you as much as you wanted, and you had been too blind to see it before other people came along.

“I know it's been years since you got over me and that I was a jerk to you when you came to see me, but you need to know that ever since I saw you I couldn't stop thinking about what my life would have been like if I had told you from the beginning.” He spoke again, trying to look closely at you to decipher what was going through your mind. “I'm sorry, I'm really sorry if this has upset you or...”

“Do you know how long I've waited to hear you say that?” You said, still surprised, taking the opportunity to get up from your chair.

“I'm sorry, I know it's too late and now you're going to leave again, but this time I'm here to ask you not to do it again.” He came over and took you by the hands, bending down a little to be at your level, as if he was begging you. “And I know it's selfish because you have to go and you have a life away, but I really...”

“Spencer.” You stopped him before he started babbling, and he looked at you anxiously for your answer. “It's not too late.”

“Really?” He asked, as if he could not believe he had heard you correctly.

“Really.”

You gave him a small smile of affirmation and felt your eyes glaze over with emotion as you felt him release your hands and grab your cheeks to wipe away the stray tear that had fallen. The look of tenderness he gave you along with his touch made you tremble.

“Are you planning to kiss me already or are you going to wait 13 more years?” You spoke without even thinking.

He didn't have to think once before closing the distance between you and fulfilling the longing that had been in your mind for so long. You couldn't say anything because his lips had been on yours before and the first contact had almost made you melt. His hands were still on your cheeks, but one of them went down to your waist to pull you closer and make sure you were real.

Your lips tasted like cherries and that made him smile immediately in the middle of the kiss, thinking that you were still wearing the same lipstick that you had applied in front of him so many times and that he had only dreamed of tasting. Finally, the reality was far better than any fantasy and the softness mixed with the intensity of a repressed love during the kiss because finally the stars had aligned for the two of you.

“Are you going to go out on a date with me?” He asked as soon as you both parted.

“I have a girls' night out first.” You replied, letting it be known that you were tired of running away. “But I'd love to go on a date with you.”

He came over and gave you a quick kiss before you could say anything else. You returned the kiss and then pulled away, putting your arms around his neck.

“You're kissing me like this before the first date?” You joked, still trapped in the bubble of love you felt you were in.

“I don't intend to wait any longer now that I have you here.” He responded by giving you a kiss on the head and wrapping his arms around you to hug you. “So please don't go away for 6 years again.”

“I don't plan to go anywhere now.”

[dazed--xx]

SKZ!Reactions: It Was All a Bet II (Maknae Line)

Part 1 Hyung Line Masterlist

Jisung:

“No.”

You growl as Jisung stood in front of you, a guilty pout on his lips. “But Babe…. —nope. Fix that, like now.” You cut him off. His head drops as he stares at the ground. “Y/N, I understand you’re upset b-but I genuinely care about you. I really want to talk about this. I’m truly so sorry.” He whimpers as he grips your hand lifting it slightly to his chest. You stare at him in disbelief. It hadn’t even been an hour since he confessed the truth. Has he no shame? You wonder to yourself. You pull your hand away “I’m sorry but are you like, dumb? Did you forget what you told me?” You snap. Jisung looks up at you with shock and guilt on his features. “N-No…” He stammers panicked. “B-But, please l-lets talk about this.” He pleads. Your eyebrows raise in amusement. “Excuse me?” You snort. “If you haven’t realized, our conversations ended when I told you to go to hell. Cause I mean it. Go to hell Han Jisung. Honestly, any of you that made the bet can go to hell. Was it the guys?” He nods regret evident in his eyes, shame written all over his face. “I’m so sorry….” He whispers, his voice breaking as his eyes well up with tears.

 “What does that do for me?”

He looks at you quizzically, “W-what do you mean?”

“You being sorry doesn’t go back in time and make you not tell me that. It doesn’t change you making the bet in the first place, honestly you saying that right now does nothing but clear your own conscious but of course why am I not surprised? You seem to keep doing things that only benefit you anyway.” He shakes his head rapidly. “No…. Y/N, no…. you’re wrong.—I am? Cause from where I’m standing you confessed to being a disgusting pig and that your friends are disgusting pigs who view women as just simple toys to mess around with as you please, and then after such confession you track me down to my job; ask my manager for me to talk to you for a second then have the nerve to apologize and cry like you deserve anything from me?” You cut him off with a monotonous tone. A look of horror paints his features, his entire demeanor looks crushed as his head hangs low. “At least I said something, I could have never said anything, you could have found out from someone else….” He murmurs, his frustration growing evident. You scoff “Oh?! I’m sorry, of course, you confessed to being crap so I should humor you right?” Jisung looks at you, you notice his jaw clenching in frustration. “Dammit why are you being like this? I’m sorry! I’ve never regretted anything more in my life please just—just talk to me about this…” He snaps before he sighs, letting all his anger leave his body with the sigh. “…I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have made such a disgusting bet, no matter who it was, but I don’t regret being with you. I don’t regret meeting you; I don’t regret going out with you, I don’t regret loving you. I don’t want to lose you.” He breathed.

 You stare at him blankly. “Again, that does nothing for me. I understand you regret your actions and cool or whatever, but that doesn’t change the fact that you used me. You slept with me……for money…. like a prostitute…which is so utterly degrading. Also, I will point out that again I am at work, so I don’t have time to entertain my ex that I literally broke up with earlier today.” You counter. Jisung sighs in defeat “There’s nothing I could do to change your mind? Please Y/N, I love you…. I-I don’t want to break up. I’m really sorry…I couldn’t be sorrier. Please don’t do this…” He pleads apologetically. You shake your head lifting your hand “You can’t change someone’s mind about your betrayal. You still betrayed them; you haven’t even given me time to process what you did. Look I need time, but I hope it was worth it.” You state as you turn away from him and walk back into your job. Jisung stares at the door you just went through.

“How could it have been worth it when it cost me everything?”

Felix:

“You have to talk to me at some point, we’re literally on tour together for the next 6 months….” Felix mumbles as you shove past him. You scoff at him not saying anything as you hand Changbin a water bottle as he requested and make your way back toward your members. Noticing you have a tail, you turn and glare at Felix, who freezes in his place with a look of surprise on his face. “I know you’re trying to intimidate me, but you look way too cute for me to be able to be fearful right now…” He flirts sweetly as he brushes a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “…Please just talk to me, I miss hearing your beautiful voice.” He whispers apologetically as he leans in close “Did you make a bet to date me for a year and then dump me after said year?” You question coldly your arms crossed over your chest as you pull your face away from his hand. He closes his eyes as a look of guilt and regret crosses his features. “Y-Yes, but—no buts…that kinda says it all then, doesn’t it?” You cut him off as you turn away from him and try to continue walking but you feel a pair of arms wrapping around your waist.

“I love you…. I love you so much. I’m so sorry, if you’re still mad at me then I can accept that. If you still want to punish me then fine. But please, it’s been three months since I’ve last been able to talk to you, let alone see you; please let me just have the chance on this tour to fix things.” He urges hopefully. You sigh “Felix…. —Do you still love me?” He cuts you off, his breathing growing heavy as you feel your cheeks heat up. “That doesn’t matter…” You answer, as you attempt to pull yourself from his grip. “Yes, it does…” He whispers, his lips brushing over the shell of your ear.

“No. It really doesn’t. My love for you doesn’t change what you did….”

“It tells me if I have a chance to change your mind though.”

“Why are you so adamant about this? Why can’t you just move on?” You argue. “Because I love you and I don’t want to love anyone else…” Felix states matter of factly. Your heart races at his words. “W-well…I-I’ve moved on…” You lie. You feel Felix’s grip tighten slightly as he buries his face in your neck, you feel a soft rumble on your chest as you hear a chuckle escape Felix’s throat “No, you haven’t…you still love me” He denies. You scoff in offense, turning your head to face him.

“You don’t know that. Not for a fact.”

“I do. Want me to prove I do?”

Your eyes narrow at him “You can’t prove how someone else fee”—your words are cut off by a pair of soft plush lips connecting with yours. Your heart races at the contact as one of Felix’s hands caress your cheek, his lips moving against yours softly. Your cheeks burn a bright scarlet as you instinctively respond to the kiss, a small groan released from your throat when Felix nibbles on your bottom lip. It felt almost like an eternity before either of you pulled away, him being the first to do so. Your lips chasing his for a moment before you hear a chuckle “See…proved it” He whispered in your ear seductively “this is going to be a fun 6 months with you babe” He placed a kiss on your cheek before handing you the water bottle you had given Changbin back and walking away. You stare at the water bottle in confusion “Where did you have this hiding?!” Felix shrugs as he places his hands in his basketball shorts pockets. “I’m an enigma, I’m your boyfriend you should know this…”

Seungmin:

“I’ll tell you now, besides Seungmin. You should be the last person to come and see me.”

You growl at Jeongin who stood with a guilty expression on his face as he stood on your porch. He hangs his head low as he sighs “I’m sorry Y/N, the bet was my idea…I shouldn’t have pushed Seungmin to accept it so much.” He apologized regretfully. “Do you want a medal or something?” You snap as you wipe the tears from your face. “You know what sucks about finding out that Seungmin had this bet going?” Jeongin shakes his head in response, “That he’s a jerk?” Jeongin guesses. “No. that my best friend is just as disgusting as my ex was.” You growl before you slam the door in Jeongin’s face. You sigh as you press your back against the door, your body gliding down the surface until you’re sat on the floor. Tears stream down your cheeks, as sobs wrack your body. The betrayal of Seungmin’s words truly setting in for the first time in days. Pulling your phone out, you press on Seungmin’s contact name and call him.

He answers on the first ring “Babe?” He gasps out quickly. “D-don’t.” Your voice cracks.

“A-are you crying?”

“Yup. Thanks for that by the way….”

“I—I know it doesn’t mean anything to you, but I am really fucking sorry.”

You sigh into the phone as you sniffle “You’re right. That means absolutely nothing to me. I called because I’m really upset and its your fault and I’m really fucking mad at you right now. How could you do this to me? I thought you liked me…. I thought I meant something to you…” you sob. “You do! Please don’t think you don’t…. please…” He pleads desperately. “You mean everything to me. I just made a massively stupid mistake. I-I never meant to hurt you. I never wanted you to find out this way….” You scoff “This way or at all?” Seungmin pauses for a moment “Honestly, I wish I could say I would have told you but if you didn’t overhear me, I wouldn’t have ever told you about it.” He confesses, his voice cracking toward the end. “Why not? You won right?” You retort sarcastically.

“Don’t.” He groans “Don’t do that, please? I didn’t want you to know because I knew this would happen. I know I deserve this, but it doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt me too. You don’t think I hurt myself too? You don’t think I hated myself every time I saw you and you looked at me in that perfectly beautiful way you do, and I knew that it all started from some disgustingly misogynistic bet? But that doesn’t change that I loved you the whole time. It doesn’t change that I knew you were meant for me since the moment I laid eyes on you.” Your heart races at his words. You notice the soft sniffles coming from the other side of the phone. “A-Are you crying?” You ask. “I shouldn’t be. I caused this. I stupidly listened to Jeongin, and I knew it wasn’t a good idea…I knew you had no interest in Jeongin at all, but—sigh—I let my stupid jealousy make a decision for me. I regret it. I’ve regretted it ever since I made it.” He confesses. Your heart feels conflicted. His words sway your resolve more and more. “Can I have some time?” You ask softly. “I need to feel not completely and utterly foolish to continue this conversation…”

“Take your time…I’ll wait as long as you need me to…. but I do love you….”

Jeongin:

“Please, I’m sorry, I’m more than sorry…”

Jeongin pleaded as he trailed behind you on your walk home from work. “God, I hope dispatch doesn’t find out where I live….” You groan as you stand in front of your apartment building. Glaring at Jeongin who stood there, face exposed, exclaiming his love for you. “Does that really matter right now?” Jeongin questioned frustratedly. “I mean considering we broke up over two weeks ago? Yeah. It would be a major problem.” You argue. Jeongin shakes his head in denial, “No. we’re not broken up. I never agreed to breaking up.” He whined, tears forming in his eyes as he continued to argue “I’m giving you space and time to be upset, I deserve you to be mad at me. I know you deserve better than someone as gross as I am who would make a bet like that, but I promise you, when I said it was the easiest 500 dollars, I ever made I meant it in a good way. I meant it was easy to be with you because you’re so amazing. B-because I love you, that’s why it became so easy. Honestly, before the guys said something that day, I forgot I even made the bet.”

 “Can you like…not be so fucking rational all the time?” You groan in frustration, “But I don’t care if you wanted to break up or not. Like you said, you made a gross ass bet with your gross ass friends. I’m not some random desperate insecure girl hoping and praying you’ll stay interested in me. If you mess up this bad it’s not up to me to help you fix it. This shit is gonna take time if I even want to see you again when I’m no longer angry.”

“If? Y-You don’t want to see me anymore?” His voice cracks as he stares at you apologetically, tears now streaming down his cheeks as your words hit him. “Y-You won’t even give me a chance?” You rest your forehead on the palm of your hand for a moment. “You made a bet to sleep with me and then break up with me after I said I love you.” You remind him. Jeongin looks nauseous at the mention of his misdeed. “b-but I didn’t. I-I didn’t do it…I didn’t break up with you. T-the guys—I don’t care” You cut him off “who cares if you and the guys changed their minds after the fact—'b-but we really felt’—I don’t care. You guys should feel guilty. I’m a fun, and nice person, I have awesome memes and I value honesty over everything. The fact that you could lie to me for almost two fucking years is insane.” You snap, your blood boiling as he continues to try to make excuse after excuse. “If you didn’t fall in love with me or whatever, you would have ripped my heart out.” You state matter of factly. Jeongin shakes his head in denial. “T-that’s not true, I’m not like that. I would have told you the truth, I swear I would have said something if I never felt anything for you. I felt like telling you the whole first two weeks of us dating.” He counters. You snort at the irony “So you had no feelings for me the whole first two weeks of us dating? What changed? Why’d you suddenly get feelings? You sure you didn’t just trick yourself into thinking you loved me out of guilt.”

“I’m a good guy, but not that good of a guy. I’d love to say this is not like me but that wouldn’t be true. I’ve done these types of bets with the guys before. I’ve liked some of the girls and some I didn’t either way I always told them the truth at the end of the timeframe. But for you, it was at that party we went to in Seongnam; Felix was really drunk and rambling on and on about the bet when you went to the bathroom and the whole time, he was talking all I could think about was how I didn’t want you to break up with me on the same night I had realized I liked you. I mean how could I not? Y-You’re perfect. You’re so kind and understanding and forgiving….” His voice breaks as he tries to contain his tears “…. You’re the most beautiful person I know, and I-I can’t lose you. Not like this. Please. Not like this” He begs as the tears continue to stream down his face.

You stand there for a moment, silence taking over both of you. For a moment it feels like time has stopped completely and you two are the only ones in this place. “I-I…I can’t.” You whisper, a look of bewilderment is written all over Jeongin’s expression. “N-No…y-you love me…w-we love each other. You can’t—you can’t do this. Please don’t—don’t do this.” He stammers in denial. “I-I’m not saying we have to completely break up…b-but I need time, I can’t trust you anymore. It feels like I don’t know you anymore….” You reject softly. Jeongin sobs “Y-Yes you do! You know me better than anyone, I made a mistake, I know that. But I’ll never hurt you like that again, ill never betray your trust again please….”

“I love you; I do. But I need time….”

“Please…. don’t walk away from us, I care about you so much. It was a mistake, promise you that” He pleads as he walks toward you, his hands encasing your arms. His eyes connecting with yours, you turn your head looking away. His hand caresses your cheek. “I love you please give me a chance to make up for this, please don’t leave me like this. I’m sorry—I’m so sorry I just want to fix this I don’t want to break up.” He urges as he rests his forehead on yours. “I need time I can’t just get over this please give me some time.” You sigh sadly. “B-But—no…. I can’t accept that you did this to me….it hurts too much for me to just jump into something with someone I can’t trust.” You cut him off.

“But you can trust me. Please give me a chance to prove that….”

“I don’t know, I need space…. I need time…. This hurts so much, and I can’t just move on from it. I need to process everything so please give me time and we can talk later—another time.”

His eyes fill with horror as he shakes his head rapidly “I-No….no…. This can’t be happening. P-please….im sorry” you sigh taking a step back. “It is happening, but I need to handle this alone, I can’t be with you please leave….”

He stood there, tears streaming down his cheeks as he watched you disappear into your building. “Please, I’m nothing without you….” He whispered nothing.

Taglist: @corrodedthorn @lovesunshinefelix @lailac13 @moonchildlv @neyangi @hello-stranger24 @tamlinsfiddle @allyrarara @yangbbokari @whoa-jo @le3lyntv @jabmastersupriseee @ezlynkisses @havenwithleeknow @heartsbyandra @applekiwi3202 @cloudyseokjinx @lixpixstix @jaiunemesolitaiire @manuosorioh @kibs-and-bits @minsungsthirdwheel @pnutbutter-n-jelyy @oddracha @velvetmoonlght @aalexyuuuhm @rockstarkkami @sheerfreesia007 @notastraykid @averyasmr4

[hannieehaee]

Hello! So if it’s okay to send a request, I do have something in mind! Okay so I love how most of your hao fics are of him as a hopeless romantic! (Tbh I really think that just how everyone sees him regarding love) anyways, one of your fics was of him and virgin reader, so what if you made a fic of both of them being a virgin or you reverse the roles and he’s the virgin? Hopefully still with the hopelessly romantic trope?

It’s perfectly okay if not! Have a good day!

18+ / mdi

content: virgin!hao x virgin!reader, loss of virginity, smut, afab reader, dry humping, clit stimulation, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 1547

a/n: i hope u like ur req<3

masterlist

"you have no idea how long i've been waiting for this," he murmured into your neck, hands shy in their caressing of your every dip and curve.

"hao, please," you breathe back, your hands equally need for a feel of his nude body.

"shh, i wanna take my time, okay?", he stared up into your eyes to say this, his own growing heavy after just a few moments and falling to your lips. his eyebrows furrowed as a pained look took over his face, clearly attempting to hold himself back from letting his desires take over, "wanna make our first time last."

"but-"

"shh", he hushed you again, lips pressing up against yours lightly, "i know you want me, angel. i want you just as bad," he breathed into your lips, "i want you to remember every touch of my lips on your skin. been waiting for my perfect girl all these years."

his words alone made you melt, and his proximity did not help maters in any way, making your eyes flutter as your lips shyly attempted to chase his own as he spoke into them. his constant references to the loss of both your virginities to one another had your breath leaving you at an astonishing speed. losing your virginity to minghao while also taking his own was something you had not been able to truly process even to this moment. feeling the most intimate of touch with the love of your life all while robbing him of his own innocence made you shudder, gulping at the body heat you felt against you.

the preamble had been nothing less than a dream. minghao kissed up and down your body, loving on every inch of skin as he slowly unclothed you. he took charge of the situation despite his own lack of experience. being a natural at it, he carried a sensual aura to himself, making you feel like the prettiest and most wanted girl to step foot on earth. his hands and lips were unable to disconnect from your body for even one second as he undressed you both.

he worshiped your body for what felt like hours on end, praising every dip and curve and groaning any time you so much as sighed in contentment. without an ounce of shyness, he expressed his lust for you from the first kiss.

after an extended session of foreplay that left you as a shell of your former self, deflated and willing to follow minghao's every whim, you were finally entering the first stages of love making. the acceleration of your heart could likely be heard from miles away, making you worried that minghao might be able to sense your nerves.

despite the nerves invading your mind, the anticipation overtook any anxiety. the need to feel your boyfriend was making you lightheaded. there was nothing that could occupy your brain in this moment other than your boyfriend finally making love to you.

likely sensing your internal monologue, minghao's hands wrapped around your hips, pulling you into position to begin a slow grind of his hips into your cunt. you hiccuped a gasp, which was soon swallowed by his lips as he finally closed the gap between you.

grunts and whines could be heard along with the rustling of the sheets as minghao ground into you, occasionally murmuring sweet praise into your lips.

"'m gonna play with your pussy now, okay, angel? need to get you ready for me," he let you know before dipping a hand between you, seeking you out for a few moments before his thumb finally landed on your clit.

"h-hao, fuck-"

"is that good, pretty? need you to tell me when it feels good, yeah?"

you nodded mindlessly, attempting to whine out an answer, "h-how are you so good at this? fuck."

he chuckled lightly, pecking your lips once before dipping his head to kiss up and down your neck, "wanted to be ready for you, angel. can't disappoint you if i'm going to be the only man to ever feel you like this."

the promise to be your first and last was a recurrent conversation between the two of you. he was never direct about it, but always made you aware of his plan to keep you to himself for life. it was a well known fact to you that minghao had saved himself for the woman he believed he'd find a permanent home in. this knowledge only made tonight the more intimate.

"w-what i- i disappoint you, hao?" you hiccuped between heavy breaths at the pressure on your clit.

he tsk'd disapprovingly, landing a soft bite on your neck as some sort of punishment, "my gorgeous girl could never disappoint me. so perfect for me and i havent even had her," he reassured.

he ground into you as his thumb circled your clit long enough for your hands to begin digging into his back, silently begging for more while pathetic sounds continued to leave your lips. his bare cock dragging against your lips made you desperate to have him finally infiltrate your walls. you were aware the penetration was meant to hurt a bit, but you knew minghao would make the experience as pleasurable as possible.

"are you ready for me, pretty? hmm? want me to fuck you now?", he murmured into your ear, breathless at his own stimulation from the dry humping, "so wet for me, fuck. pretty clit so puffy and needy. can i fuck you now, angel?"

looking up at him with wide eyes and furrowed eyebrows, he groaned at the sight, reiterating his prior questions again as he practically pleaded to finally feel you wrapped around him.

"please ..." you pleaded, pulling him against you as you wrapped your legs around his waist, needily pressing him further towards you.

nodding to himself, he readjusted, grabbing onto his cock and beginning to drag the tip through your folds, causing you both to shudder with a gasp. the pained look would not leave his eyes. it was clear to you that he'd been holding back his desires this entire time in order to get you stimulated enough for a painless intrusion. his silent consideration was more than enough for you to cherish your decision of saving yourself for him.

with a silent groan, he entered you, whimpering at your tightness. this was the first time you ever heard such a sound come from him, something which made you sickly proud of yourself. his breath was ragged and heavy against your neck, murmuring filthy praise about your pussy.

"it's so good, oh, fuck- so fucking good.

"so tight and pretty for me ..."

"can't believe it's all mine ... it's all for me, isn't it, pretty? fuck, my pretty pussy, all for me to fuck ..."

"never felt so good ... c-can't think when you're so wet and so fucking warm around me, oh, fuck."

"fucking ruined me ..."

he babbled endless praise as he lost his composure against you. you had no chance to survive him when he loved you so good, never shy to express it. no pain was felt as he fucked you, only unimaginable pleasure accompanied by lightheadedness from the effect you clearly had on him. you just laid there and whined out his name as he took care of himself with your cunt.

"h-hao ... fuck, so big- so fucking good," you sighed as your eyes rolled back. the mere mention of his name made him redouble his groans of appreciation, composure nowhere to be found.

"tell me how good it is ... tell me you feel just as good as i do ... please."

"feels so good, hao. keep going, please ... wanna- wanna cum, fuck, please," you rambled on, knowing he'd eat up your every word as his hips continued to gradually lose their finesse.

"i'll make you cum, gorgeous. but with me, yeah? need you to cum with me. fuck, i'll make you feel so good, promise," he grunted against your ear, kissing his way to your lips and beginning rocking into you even harder.

nodding in confirmation, you silently confirmed your incoming orgasm. his hands went up to hold your own over your head, noses pressed up together as he occasionally connected your lips in a passionate series of kisses.

"'m cumming, angel. i'm- i'm cumming. cum with me, yeah. love you so- so fucking much. need you to- fuck, please ..." he gasped out his nonsensical pleas for your orgasm, not realizing his current state made you tip over the edge and join him with your own orgasm.

even more expletives came from his lips when you began crying out his name, squeezing his hands with your own and arching your back, causing your chest to press up against his own. you rode your orgasms together, filling up the room with nasty sounds of gratification as he released inside you all the way up until losing all your energy and falling against each other.

he nuzzled into your neck, wrapping himself around you, though not pulling out of you. readjusting you to comfortably lay with one another, he loved on you once more, but more lazily this time around.

"thank you for being my first. i love you," he smiled, offering you a loving gaze.

"love you, hao," you smiled back.

[bbyleiah]

breakfast.

| part 2 to smoke-you-out for you thirsty hoes 😭 reader folds and sleeps with Eren again after they bicker a little because the reader is ‘regretful’ about her mistakes, Eren is obsessed with reader. |

cw: smut, cheating, bf!Connie, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, pussy slapping, spit, fluids, squirting, unprotected sex, missionary position, creampie, scratching, hair pulling, pet names, lots of dirty talk (bc eren a chatterbox 😭), overstimulation, crying, desperate eren ‘just the tip’, whimpering, biting, pwp, etc. ( plenty of plot though ☝🏽😭) fem! sub reader, dom! Eren. reader is black.

Word Count : long asab 😭

sn : thank y’all so much for all the love fr 🫶🏽

part 3 : all-yours <3

You woke up in a bright room, stretching and groaning as consciousness spread over you. Your body was very sore and you felt drained. You took in your surroundings as you sat up, wrapped in white sheets on a large bed. The room was extremely nice and tidy, and it looked as if you were in some kind of mansion with the large windows on the side of the room.

Panic began to take over you once you realized you weren’t at home though and once you remembered the events of last night you were starting to feel sick. “no no no no..” You said on a mantra while shaking your head as if that would change things. To interrupt your distress, Eren came out his bathroom looking like a wet dream. His hair was down, damp and falling over his shoulders and he was shirtless, only wearing pajama pants that hung low on his hips showing off his happy trail and the band of his briefs.

“Goodmorning little one.” Eren hummed casually as if you weren’t on the verge of losing your mind. You stared at him in awe, still processing everything while subconsciously gawking at his appearance. “You might start drooling if you keep your mouth open forever sweetheart.” He chuckled breaking you out of your trance.

You blushed and instantly shut your mouth that you didn’t realize was gaping open as you stared at Eren. You held the sheets closer to your body even though you were clothed in what seemed to be one of Eren’s t-shirts judging by how big it was on you. “Uhm…this was a mistake. Last night was a mistake. This should’ve never happened. Oh my god…Connie will never forgive me. I can’t believe I cheated on him.” You began to ramble. “Why did you let that happen?? You’re his bestfriend!”You said to Eren.

“Woah, don’t go blaming me sweetheart. You’re his ‘loyal girlfriend’ as you said last night. I asked you if you wanted it and you said you did so don’t make it seem like I coerced you or something. Plus I never gave a fuck about your relationship anyways. You were mine from the moment I saw you.” He said seriously as he looked at you.

You stared at him in disbelief, “I am not yours! You’re a terrible bestfriend by the way. Who sleeps with their bestfriend’s girlfriend?!” You exclaimed. “And who the hell sleeps with their boyfriend’s bestfriend?” He shot back. You opened your mouth to respond but there was really nothing you could say to that. You were the one more in the wrong in this situation. “Mhm exactly, so quiet now little one.” he hummed. “Shut up Eren” You muttered.

“I told you that you’d regret it more than me.” Eren shrugged. “I do regret it…a lot. We should never see each other again. If me and you both just forget about it then Connie won’t ever have to know.” You said as you found your phone, seeing that you had tons of missed calls and texts from your boyfriend. “Mhm yeah, what do you want for breakfast?” He asked you as if he didn’t hear anything you just said.

“Excuse me?” You said as you looked back up at him. “I asked what do you want for breakfast?.” He repeated. “Eren I’m not eating breakfast with you. Are you crazy?”

You said, not understanding why he wasn’t more pressed about this situation. “I’m not crazy, and you’re not ditching me to go back to Connie. Now answer my question.” He said, and you realized he was dead serious.

“I’m not hungry Eren…eat by yourself.” You said while shaking your head before you focused your attention back on your phone so you could text Connie back. “I wanna eat you though.” He said seriously with a hum. Your eyes widened at his words and you instinctively closed your legs. “Eren..no. Don’t talk like that.” You said, getting deja vu from your own words.

“Don’t talk like that~” Eren mocked you. “You love saying that, don’t you?. You love it when I talk like that though. Makes your little pussy all gushy and wet.” He said with a grin as he stared into your eyes. You almost let out a whine but you held it back, your face flushed at his words. “I-It does not!” You defended. He chuckled, “I guarantee you’re wet right now baby.” He said, highly amused as your denial.

He was unfortunately right but that didn’t mean you were gonna admit it. “You’re delusional!” You huffed as you blushed. “Only over you baby” he said teasingly with a wink, leaving you baffled at his shamelessness. “I’m serious though sweet girl, I’m craving you soo bad. I want you to squirt on my tongue just like you did on my dick last night. Won’t you be a good girl and do that for me?” He said, talking in that sickly sweet tone that made your head fuzzy.

“Eren…” you whined and shook your head. He somehow managed to put you in a spell with his words everytime. His attention and his filthy sweet words making you want to give in and spread your legs for him whenever he wanted. “Aw baby, you want it too don’t you?. You can be good for me just like you were last night.” He hummed, using his teeth to take the hair tie off his wrist and holding it in his mouth as he began to tie his hair up.

You couldn’t take your eyes off him. The act of him tying his hair up, seemingly getting prepped for his ‘meal’ was getting you excited. Your thighs clenching together as your panties became more wet by the second, anticipation building for Eren to act on his lewd words. “You’re giving me that look again sweetheart.” Eren grinned as he walked closer to the bed, towering over your form.

You blushed in embarrassment at his words, it’s not like you could control how you looked at the man but he didn’t have to call it out. “You don’t even realize how slutty that look is do you?. All fucking needy, eyes begging for me to ruin you and make you my pretty little whore. Do you look at Connie like that?” Eren taunted. “I bet you don’t. He can’t fuck you like I do, right sweetheart?. I got you all desperate for me and I haven’t even touched you yet pretty girl.” He continued.

You couldn’t even hold back your whines anymore at his words. The more he spoke the more you wanted him to touch you, to devour you, to make a complete mess out of you. You wanted to stay strong on your morals to not sleep with Eren again but god he sure was making it hard as fuck. “W-We’re not doing this again..” you breathed out.

Eren faux pouted dramatically at your words, “You’re breaking my heart baby.” He tsked while shaking his head as he climbed onto the bed, inching closer to you and pulling the sheets off you. “You really don’t want me baby?” He asked as he looked up into your eyes, his hands easing up your thighs, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

You bit your lip, contemplating how to respond. It wasn’t that you didn’t want Eren, the problem was that you did want him, very badly at that. But this was wrong, but it also felt so right. Your thighs instinctively began to part as Eren began to kiss up them gently, humming in approval the more your legs spread. “I still need an answer sweet girl~” Eren reminded you.

You let out a shaky breath, “I do want you…but this is the last time! No more after this Eren! I’m serious.” You declared, although you barely believed your own words. He chuckled, “Mhm, we’ll see about that. Love having my good girl back though.” He grinned as he sat up and wrapped his hands around your ankles.

You shrieked as he suddenly pulled you by your ankles, making you lay flat on your back. He was quick to get back in between your legs, wrapping his arms around your thighs as he pressed his nose against your clothed wet cunt. Your panties already completely soaked through from Eren’s words alone.

Eren groaned as he inhaled your scent, his eyes rolling back a little “smells so fucking good..you’re like a drug little one. My favorite kind of fucking drug. Can’t get enough..” he rasped before he ran his tongue along the sticky fabric of your panties. You whined out starting to squirm in Eren’s hold, he only gripped you tighter, his fingers digging painfully into your thighs.

“Don’t fucking move or I promise I won’t be as nice little one. I’m trying to have a meal remember? It’s rude to take someone’s food.” He said as he looked up at you with that same ravenous look he had the night before. That look made you fold instantly, making you want to be the good obedient girl Eren adored so much. You nodded at his words, “I-I’ll stay still~” You muttered out.

He smiled, “Good girl. Always so good for me.” He praised happily before he placed a gentle kiss on your clit, he grazed his teeth on it sending shivers down your spine. You swooned at his praise, it causing those little flutters in your stomach that you craved from his approval. Eren didn’t even warn you before he tore your panties, disposing them off on the floor somewhere. You gasped in shock, “you didn’t have to rip them!” You exclaimed in disbelief.

“They were a mess anyways.” He brushed it off nonchalantly before he delve back in between your legs, immediately running his tongue through your folds tasting your slick on his palate. The two of you moaned out in sync, you falling into the pleasure and eren enjoying every second of tasting you. Eren kept his eyes trained on your face as he began to devour you messily. The lewd noises of slurping, sucking, and smacking beginning to fill the room.

Eren sucked on your clit, focusing his attention on the nub as he circled his tongue on it his spit dripping filthily onto your cunt and mixing with your slick. You were a moaning mess as eren ate your pussy like his favorite meal. Your head thrown back and your hands gripping the sheets as the intense pleasure consumed you. Eren loved the sight of you falling apart for him, it was so breathtaking. You were like a dream for him.

Your messy hair sprawled out on his white sheets, his shirt falling off your shoulder the marks he left on you the night before looking so beautiful on your brown skin, your nipples hard and peaking through the shirt, your eyes fluttered shut while you bit those pretty full lips of yours. Fuck Eren felt like he could bust a nut just from looking at you. “so good ren’..mmfph’ You whined as your back arched, feeling his tongue prod at your entrance, his nose deliciously bumping against your clit as he buried his face in your pussy.

He was already soaked in your fluids, his chin and his cheeks covered in your sweet slick mixed with some of his own drool and saliva. Eren loved it, being drowned in your sweet essence was heaven for him. He kept consistently running his tongue up your folds, back to your entrance and then up to your clit, sucking and kissing at your cute little clit every time. “I could eat you out all day sweet girl.” He groaned as he used his fingers to spread your folds, opening his mouth and allowing his spit to drip onto your creamy clenching cunt.

“such a pretty fucking pussy..” He sighed almost in complete awe at the sight of your messy cunt. He then gathered the filthy mix of fluids onto his fingers before he slid one inside you, making your breath hitch slightly. He pulled your clit between his teeth as he began to thrust his finger into you slowly, making you moan and whine out as you began to tug at his hair.

Tears brimmed your eyes at the pleasure, completely drunk on everything eren was giving you. The way eren touched your body was just so perfectly right, it’s like he knew exactly what to do to have you losing your mind. Hitting every spot that made your toes curl and your eyes roll back. It was like your body was made for him and him only.

“You’re mine, pretty baby. Isn’t that right?” He said as he slid another finger into you, curling them and increasing the pace as he licked and slurped up all your slick that was gushing out all over his hand. “Mhm! A-All yours ren’.” You moaned as the heels of your feet dug into Eren’s back, your legs resting over his shoulders. “That’s right. All fucking mine. My fucking pussy. Only I make this pussy this wet.” He declared, his possessiveness showing as his fingers repeatedly hit that spot of nerves that had you seeing stars.

Eren was so turned on just from eating you out and fingering you. His cock painfully hard and dripping precum in his pajama pants. He actually had to stop himself from pathetically rutting against the bed. Pleasuring you was the most orgasmic thing for him. He could get off just on that. Even you could see how much eren was enjoying pleasing you.

His eyes rolling occasionally as he moaned and whimpered against your pussy, his occasional ruts against the bed that he tried to stop, the way he gripped your thighs and didn’t allow you to move an inch from his face, wanting to drown between your legs forever. Your slick was coating his neck and collarbone by now and he loved it, it was so filthy and he couldn’t get enough of it.

“M’ close!” You gasped out as you felt that coil in your tummy about to burst as eren repeatedly abused that spot, your legs beginning to tremble from the stimulation as he simultaneously sucked on your clit. “Want you to make a mess all over my face little one. You can do that for me, can’t you sweetheart?” He encouraged as he sped up the pace of his fingers.

You whined and nodded, crying out and pulling harshly at Eren’s hair as you reached your climax, squirting all over Eren’s hand and his face. He moaned, slurping up as much of your juices as he could, loving the taste of you. “Always squirting so prettily for me baby.” He sighed happily as he slapped your swollen clit, slamming his hand down on it repeatedly to watch your pussy squirt and gush out more.

You cried at the overstimulation, “‘s too much! Too much ren’!” You sobbed as you squirmed. “Shh, it’s okay sweet girl~” He hummed soothingly as he placed gentle kisses on your drenched inner thighs and gently stroked your cute tummy. He then sat up and hovered over you, placing gentle pecks against your lips as he grinded his erection against your wet swollen pussy, moaning into your mouth.

You whined placing your hands against his abdomen to stop him, “sensitive ren’…” you pouted. “I know baby but..fuck just the tip princess, hm?. please, I’ll be good.” He was begging at this point but he felt like he had to be inside you right now. You blushed hearing his shameless begging and you didn’t have the heart to say no, “okay..but just the tip!” You said. Eren grinned, “thank you baby~” he kissed both your cheeks before he pulled his leaking cock out of his pajama pants.

His tip was swollen and red, precum dripping down to his balls. Eren hadn’t been this turned on ever. He rubbed his leaky tip through your messy folds before he began to push the tip in, literally shuddering at the feeling of your warm wet pussy swallowing up his tip. He did a shallow thrust, whimpering as he buried his face into your neck.

You were a whining mess, eren seemed so desperate for you, falling apart just from his tip being inside you and his pathetic state was doing something to you. You never had a man want you this badly, not even Connie was this effected by you and you were literally his girlfriend. It was an addicting feeling.

“shit I know I said only the tip but baby I need it, so badly. Please honey.” Eren begged more, you gasped seeing he had actual tears brimming his eyes as he shamelessly begged you. Eren knew he being pathetic right now but he couldn’t help it, you were just so addicting to him. He craved every inch of you. “I-It’s yours ren’, you can put the rest in~” you gave in, as you ran your fingers through his hair that was falling out from his loose bun.

“thank you baby, so sweet and good to me. So fucking perfect.” Eren moaned as he bottomed out, gripping your hips as he began to thrust into you with eagerness. His balls slapping against your ass as he roughly pounded into you. He moaned and whimpered into your ear, his quickened breathes fanning against your cheek and neck. You were so overstimulated but it felt so good, your nails dragging down Eren’s back as you cried out in immense pleasure.

“so close sweet girl. Gonna fill you up real good, have you all nicely stuffed for me.” He said breathlessly as he used your pussy like his favorite cock sleeve. His eyes moving to watch the way your pussy ate up his dick, the mixture of your fluids covering his dick and soaking his trimmed pubic hair. He began to rub circles onto your clit with his thumb, making you sob as your back arched. You came again instantly, gushing erotically on Eren’s dick.

He moaned out at the feeling of your cunt squeezing his cock as you came so beautifully, he came soon after, his warm cum filling you up and adding to the filthy mess of your fluids. He continued slow thrusts, fucking his cum into you as he kissed along your neck and collarbone. “so good, so obsessed with you, my sweet girl.” He muttered against your skin, the two of you panting breathlessly in sync.

“Mm, I’m hungry now ren’” you suddenly said, completely fucked out as you laid there and gladly soaked up all of Eren’s gentle touches and kisses. You did have an appetite now. He chuckled, “I’ll make you food baby. Don’t worry.” He hummed as he pulled out. He got up to get a warm cloth to clean you up.

While he was doing that, your bubble burst seeing a call from Connie. You sat up and answered instantly, “Oh my god, I’m so sorry Connie. I can explain!” You began, regret filling you once again. “Where the hell have you been?! I been looking for your little ass all over. You haven’t even been responding to my calls or texts!” He yelled angrily into the phone.

“I asked everyone if they seen you. I’m actually pulling up to Eren’s crib right now. He was the last person who saw you so I assumed he’d know where you were at.” Connie continued ranting on. You felt your heart sank to your ass. “He doesn’t! I’m with my family! Emergency trip!” You blurted out as you scrambled out of Eren’s bed. Your legs were wobbly so you almost busted your ass.

“Well why didn’t you say anything? Had me running around looking dumb and shit because I don’t know where my own girl is at.” He said, clearly irritated with your antics. Honestly a part of you didn’t feel bad, happy that Connie got to experience that same helpless running around you had to deal with. “Because..it didn’t cross my mind. Sorry babe.” You apologized, hoping to appease him.

“It’s alright.” He sighed. “I’m gonna chill with eren and smoke a lil to relax. I’ll come see you later, alright baby?” He said. You felt like screaming. Your eyes widening and your heart racing in panic. Eren came back out, immediately getting concerned seeing the look on your face. “You okay little one?” He asked you as he walked up to you. You felt your heart stop once you heard that dreaded knock at the door. You definitely regretted sleeping with your boyfriend’s bestfriend now.

[ hopefully y’all liked this part as much as the first one 🥹💗]

[fragmentating]

Honestly not much radicalized me in regards to bodily autonomy the way being a chronic selfharmer for 10+ years has. And one of those things that really are so awful to deal with is a lack of privacy.

When I go inpatient and they ask me if I have wounds, and I answer honestly, they dont just write that down. They make me undress and show each single one, otherwise I wont be "processed" and let into my room.

In the underage psych ward I was in they would sometimes search the rooms of known selfharmers while we were away at a therapy appointment, or seeing family in the visitation room, etc. They wouldn't tell you. They would lie about it if you asked about it. But all your shit had been moved around slightly, enough for observant people to notice. If they found blades, or any other sharp object regardless of it you had used it to selfharm though, you would obviously be punished.

One time I cut and went to the nurses for help, I was scared because it had never been that deep before and their response was tossing my room after I had voluntarily given them the two blades i had, while a male nurse kept saying how uncomfortable he was that he "had to" inspect my pads, saying "why would you need that many", ... they had metal detectors. They could've just swiped it across everything. But that wouldn't have been humiliating enough like seeing a nurse dig through my underwear and pads and diary.

Outside of the psych ward, my family kept up a similar approach. They did not search my room at least, knowing it was futile because there were always knifes in the house if I was desperate anyways, and a store down the street that sold razors. But locked doors were my mothers enemy. If I locked my door to masturbate, and she noticed it was locked? She would knock and yell until I opened it. If I simply wanted to relax in a bath but she decided it was suspiciously long ? The same.

When they couldn't catch me in the act but my scars kept getting more and more theyd threaten me with being hospitalized again.

When the hospital ER would send me to the closed ward for cuts that had nothing to do with suicidal ideation, but they decided I must be lying because it was deep enough, no matter how often I said I simply "messed up" because of adrenaline and blades that were sharper than expected. They had no legal ground to lock me up again but who cares, right. Its just one of those freaks who cuts themselves anyways.

And none of this kept me safe. None of this prevented me from cutting majority of the time. It made me distrust the ER. It made me distrust nurses. It made me hide my body even around my family. And when it did momentarily work I simply started harming myself in other ways. I ended up covered in bruises, with minor concussions, increasingly starving myself, depriving myself of sleep, ...

No one ever went "let's really try to figure out why you do this." Instead they went "why the fuck wont you just chew some bubble gum and roll a spikey ball on the soles of your feet you depressed fuck" or some shit like bro I am being severely traumatized by the world and this is my reaction. It's all "you are the problem".

And as an adult whos decided that I'm not interested in quitting, who "only" practices harm reduction I know that absolutely no one wants to accept that as a choice I should be allowed to make. Doesnt matter that I'm an expert at taking care of wounds and I have not had a single infection in 10+ years aside from once on wounds that got fucking stitched at the hospital. that I actively do my best to avoid lasting damage. That I try to keep the frequency low. They put me through years of surveillance and shame and threats without ever trying to see the root cause, only ever treat me as a bratty problem child who's being difficult just to fuck with them, and can not understand why that wouldn't make me want to stick to the goals they have set for me.

Therapists genuinely lose their mind when I tell them I don't want ~sobriety~ I just want to reduce harm and get on with my life. Their teachings do not allow for this to be but a short term compromise. I do not care.

[livinginshambles]

I needed to hear you say it | James Potter

Pairing: James Potter x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Summary: Unrequited love on both sides, James' side in part two– You're in love with James who, despite knowing about your feelings, ignores it as he doesn't want to lose you by rejecting you. After a rejection, you get over him and leave him strangely enough, conflicted.

Notes: I was not going to post anything until I got back from holidays, but it’s really short, so here it is anyway! Not proofread and typed on a phone ;)

Masterlist Part two

______________

“I’m sorry.”

You shook your head at his words, assuring him that it wasn’t his fault. After all, you don’t choose who you fall in love with. It just happens. Just like how you don’t choose who you don’t fall in love with.

The words "I don't love you" rang through your head.

“It’s alright,” you tried to offer him a smile, but your eyes avoided his, your face tilted downwards. Despite your heart hurting, you felt slightly lighter, as if a massive weight had been taken off the back of your mind. “I think I knew. Despite your mixed signals which I must admit, gave me a little hope, I knew. So did you.”

James was slouched on the couch in front of the fireplace, taking up the entire space, leaving Peter and Remus to sit on the floor in front of him, both busy studying like dutiful students should. He looked up at you, vision up side down as a result of his head that had lolled off the edge of the couch, a conflicted expression adorned his face while he studied yours.

You watched his glasses that sat uneven on the bridge of his nose, eyes that seemed to bore right through you, though you sure hoped they couldn’t. How humiliating it would be, you thought to yourself, since more often than not, you imagined what it would be like to be loved by him, accidentally zoning out with your eyes trained on James. You shook the thoughts away in a flustered manner as if to hide them away.

Noticing that James was still peering up at you, you stretched out your leg towards him and nudged your foot against his head in a teasing manner, trying to get him to break his gaze. It worked, and James pushed it away with a face of mock disgust.

“Ew! Get your smelly feet away from my face.” He complained.

You stuck your tongue out at him. “No. I don’t think I will,” you taunted and wiggled your foot in front of him a little more. With lightning quick reflexes, James managed to grad your ankle and started to tickle your foot.

You squirmed away with a high pitched shriek, almost kicking James in the face. “James! Bloody hell?” You loudly exclaimed and retracted your leg. James only grinned in response, blowing you a kiss and a wink. It had your heart skip a beat.

“So what were you thinking about,” you decided to ask him, his frown not having gone unnoticed by you.

‘About how I know that you’re in love with me,’ he thought. He had been thinking about that a lot recently, but unfortunately not because he returned your feelings.

James was trying to pass his behaviour off as normal recently, despite having found out about it. He prayed that you would never confess your feelings directly to his face, because he knew that he’d have to reject you, inevitably losing you in the process. Something he wanted to avoid at all costs.

He needed you.

But he wanted Lily. She was it for him after all, no matter how close you and James were.

“Lots of things on my mind,” James cleared his throat. “Like do you guys think that McGonagall has ever... involved herself with another cat?” He asked the first thing that popped up in his mind and was successful in diverting the conversation. The immediate response was four groans and a chorus of “That’s bloody disgusting, Prongs, what the hell mate?”

James shoulders relaxed when he saw you laugh along. He didn’t want things to change.

James didn’t know what to say to you. He hadn’t wanted to lose you, so he avoided the confrontation, unintentionally stringing you along on the way, breaking your heart when the news that Lily decided to give James a chance had reached you before he could tell you himself.

But now he knew somewhere in his gut that this was the going to be the end of you two. At least for now, he realised.

“Thank you,” you managed and his head snapped up to yours, searching for your eyes but yours were firmly focused on the brick wall behind him.

You took a deep breath. “I needed to hear you say it,” you exhaled, your eyes glistering in the reflected light when you looked up again.

You reached your hand into the pocket of your sweater, grasping at the ring that James had given you. You had pocketed it after you found out that the only reason you received that wonderful gift, was because Lily had told James that she didn’t like wearing jewellery.

You held your hand out to him. James, somewhat confused, still held his hand out and you let the ring drop in the palm of his hand. “I’m not going to get strung along by you anymore,” you told him. Your voice was barely louder than a whisper, but was firm.

James heart clenched, the pit in his stomach enlarging. ‘This is it,’ he thought.

“No more hurting. No more feelings,” you said out loud, as if you were vowing them to him. “Let’s meet up after the summer vacation, yeah?” James’ eyes searched your face, hope at your words, lighting them up.

“I swear on the marauders, everything will be back to normal next year, and we’ll be okay.” Your words were confident, putting him at ease, knowing you’d keep your promise. You beamed up at him one last time before you stepped back, disappearing through the brick wall of Platform 9¾.

September 1st.

James dearly missed you. You hadn’t visited over the holidays as usual. Nor had you answered the letters that James couldn’t help but send you to keep you up to date on what you were missing out on. James was already on the platform, waiting in front of the Hogwarts express. He was early, but he knew that you were always one of the first to arrive of all the students, ready to secure a compartment for the marauders.

James had spent a few weeks with Lily during the holidays, and the both of them had realised that maybe they weren’t it for each other.

Whereas James slept in and enjoyed late night talks, Lily would wake up as an early bird. He wanted to go out and stroll through the streets, get lost in London or hang out at a bar and Lily would rather go to the park and calmly read a book that she’d treated to herself. James liked trying out new places to eat at, maybe laughing at how disgusting something was, while Lily thoroughly enjoyed making meals herself to match her tastes.

She didn’t feel too comfortable with James’ public affection or physical touch, so he would often find himself walking next to her, arms awkwardly hanging by his sides. He realised that even when walking around with his friends, he’d have his arm thrown across their shoulders.

James was also a little bit of a complainer. He would dramatically gasp for air and wave his hands at himself during the heat wave that hit London while whining about the temperature. He sourly eyed the ridiculously long queue of the movie theatre of a movie that he wasn’t particularly interested in due to different tastes and couldn’t help but complain about it. He cursed out loud when they missed the bus and grumbled about the 30-minute wait until the next.

Lily would roll her eyes at him, albeit amusedly. She would hush him and shake her head at his childishness, sometimes with a slightly embarrassed chuckle which was the final issue; she was often embarrassed at his loud rambunctiousness.

Finally coming to terms with reality, Lily and James amicably split up. He still thought she was a great person, but maybe not for him per se.

He was lost in thoughts until two hands obscured his sight, effectively pulling him back to the present. They were warm to the touch and smelled like you. James’ stomach swirled for just a split second, but he didn’t have time to process the feeling in his gut when you spoke up in a low voice, trying to pass off as someone else, as if James would be fooled by that.

“Guess who?”

A grin broke out on his face and he grabbed one of your wrists, spun around and then made your twirl around as well. “My favourite person?” He cheekily teased. He was taken aback when you threw yourself at him, that same fluttering feeling reappearing, despite the fact that you often hugged others like that, and the action being no different than your usual way of greeting him.

When you felt James’ body stiffen, you quickly released him, kind but apologetic smile on your face. You were looking good, James realised. Not in the sense that you suddenly looked incredibly stunning after the summer holiday or anything, although James had always thought you were quite pretty, but you looked relaxed. A delighted expression on your face. Positivity seemed to pour out of you and your smile was just captivating.

“Sorry, did I make you uncomfortable?” You asked, concern lacing your voice. Before he could answer you, you continued. “I’m so sorry if I did, but I promise you, I have absolutely no feelings for you anymore, Prongs. Everything’s back to normal,” you sincerely assured him.

James smiled back at you, he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you flush to his side while he guided you towards the train. “Everything's back to normal,” he cheerily affirmed, forcing himself to ignore the way his heart had dropped, and the forming pit in his stomach at your words.

“How was your summer,” he asked, before his mind could wander off and imagine what it would be like to be loved by you, instead.

part two

Taglist:

@elsie-bells @charlie-weasley-is-underrated @dreamingofmarauders @moonyslibrary98 @wildernessflora @hollandweather @queerqueenlynn @locklyebrainrot @thisrandombitch @moonys0chocolate @grac3aph3lion @someonesuggestmeaname @mel-yldrm @yrseline @apiec @earfquak3 @yourvvenicebitch @venomsvl @leyla-ravenclaw @spacedangel @darrarii @shrekscrustybudassy @unleptwriter @middle-of-the-earth @sirene-noir @bettytaylorversion @littlepoisonmushroom @faumpje @iloveutwice @katelebate @moonysupremacy01 @marina468 @fangirl-kimora @bellesowl @badasswlthafatass @sjprongs @armydrcamers @its-a-ittle-bit-cold @georgesgingerpubes @ireallywannasleep127 @sayukoi @jsjcue

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for Derpsheep; a fake cryptid and a real romantic. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“Oh, baby bird,” Dick says sympathetically, trying not to laugh as Tim sulks at him. 

“Robin . . . BUSY,” Tim mutters sourly through his vocoder, otherwise pretending to be ignoring him as he makes yet another valiant but fruitless attempt at getting the “nest” he’s trying to construct in this crumbly warehouse safehouse to stay together. The attempt is very, very fruitless. Almost aggressively fruitless, in fact. 

“Didn’t Superboy say he’d make you a nest?” Dick asks pointedly, not bothering to use his own vocoder. No one else is around to hear; not even Bruce, right now. 

He’ll hear anyway, obviously–there’s a reason Dick left Gotham–but not the point. And anyway, “hearing” isn’t necessarily understanding, when it comes to Bruce. 

Tim ignores him. Dick raises an eyebrow behind his mask. 

“I’m pretty sure he did,” he says. “So you literally do not need to be doing this right now.” 

Tim hisses at him, then snatches up a few sad, brittle little sticks in his talons. Basically all the sticks he’s working with look sad and brittle, in fact. Dick isn’t really the outdoorsy type, but he’s pretty sure nests need to be made out of sticks that won’t instantly snap when woven together. 

Also the weaving part is probably necessary, which Tim does not seem to have realized yet. So . . . yeah, that’s a thing. 

Tim tries to prop his sad, brittle little sticks up against each other. He seems very frustrated, and way more invested in this totally unnecessary process than it makes sense for him to be. 

Alright then, Dick thinks, and carefully doesn’t comment when the propped-up sticks immediately collapse. Tim puts his face in his hands–well, his mask in his talons–and groans in frustration. 

“There, there,” Dick says lamely, patting his feathered shoulder. Tim shoots him a dirty look he can feel through the mask. 

“You suck,” Tim accuses sullenly. 

“I’m still pretty sure Superboy would do this for you,” Dick says. “Actually literally positive, in fact, since a nest cannot possibly be as time-consuming or complicated to make as, you know, a literal diamond.” 

“First of all, I can’t expect him to do all the work and just always be giving me stuff, that’s rude and dispectful and would be taking advantage of him,” Tim says in exasperation. Then he cringes badly enough that it’s visible through his entire suit and hides his face in his wings. “Also if he actually makes me a nest I will lose my mind over it and I need to keep, like, some scraps of dignity here.” 

“Right, of course,” Dick says, politely not mentioning anything he’s observed about the combination of Tim, his dignity, and his past crushes. It’s not gonna be helpful right now. Tim is clearly not in a place to hear it, if nothing else. Just very much not at all. “Okay, so what kind of nest are you trying to make?” 

“. . . a bird one?” Tim replies, sounding bewildered by the question. 

. . . Dick just . . . pats his shoulder again.

[jakesduskwood]

even statues crumble if they're made to wait

Pairing: Jake x Fem!MC

Genre: Post-Episode 10 Duskwood, Post-Episode 1 Moonvale

Words: 8,916

Summary: It's been three months since the explosion in the mine. Three months since Hannah was found. And MC's accepted that Jake is never coming back. When she gets roped into another missing person's case, it makes for the perfect distraction. Jake is dead. It's fine. That is, until she finds herself on the phone with Alan Bloomgate who says he has something to show her. But it's fine. Jake is dead.

Until he's not.

EPISODE-1 MOONVALE SPOILERS AHEAD (MAYBE)!

[ A/N: Hello! :)

I know it's been a while since I've done this, but I finished Moonvale Episode 1 and if you've seen the ending (and used its Duskwood code), you know what happened and how excited I was to receive that bit of Duskwood. So, I took it and ran with it, and out came this extremely long fic. I did not proofread this as it took me literally almost 12 hours to write so it is completely and 100% me and my love for Jake and I hope you love it.

Side note: I suck with anything related to timelines, so I made one up on my own. I know Episode 1 of Moonvale takes place over the course of a day or two, but for the purpose of this fic, it made sense to make it longer, so it's not a typo, or me losing my mind, it's just the way my brain processed this.

Enjoy! :) ]

It’s been three months since the explosion in the mine.

Three months since Richy had been killed. Three months since Hannah was rescued. Three months since I had last spoken to Thomas or Cleo or Lilly or…or Jessy. I didn’t blame her then and I don’t blame her now. Any of them, really. I didn’t share the bond they had with each other. I wasn’t from Duskwood. It didn’t matter that we’d experienced a tragedy together—and yes, perhaps them more than me, but I loved Richy too. I had lost Richy too. And Jake—

But mostly, I think they just wanted to forget. To move on. They didn’t want to remember that their friend had been capable of…of that. And I was a constant reminder of that to them. So I understood why we didn’t necessarily talk anymore.

The one person I did keep in contact with from Duskwood, oddly enough, other than the occasional update from Alan Bloomgate, was Dan. We weren’t best friends or anything, but he allowed me to check in on our friends in a way that I didn’t know how to do with anyone else. Maybe because I thought he was the least affected among them. I knew he cared about Hannah, but he wasn’t to her what Thomas or Cleo or Lilly were. And he wasn’t to Richy what Jessy had been.

I’d learned from him that Thomas and Hannah had broken up. There was no bad blood, but Thomas hadn’t quite figured out how to accept the things he’d learned about his girlfriend when she’d been gone, and Hannah hadn’t quite figured out how to re-trust someone after Richy. Even if that person was Thomas. But I’d hoped they would find their way back to each other in the end.

I thought about reaching out to Jessy every once in a while—even just as an apology for everything that had happened. I’m sorry that Hannah was found at the expense of Richy. I’m sorry that he did this to you. I’m sorry I didn’t realize it sooner. We should have. We should have. We should have. I miss you. But I never send it. I’m not all that sure she’d respond anyway.

Cleo and I were never all that close. She has her best friend back, so I think she’s probably as okay as she can be. Helping Hannah find a new kind of normal in a time where her childhood friend had kidnapped her in order to prove a point. I don’t know how you come back from that—I don’t know how you come back from knowing that you killed somebody at all.

I hadn’t found the courage to ask if somebody had told Hannah about Jake.

Not that I think it would matter anyway. I hadn’t heard from him since before the explosion in the mine, which was, like I said—three months ago. I waited the appropriate amount of time—twenty-five days—before I broke down and concluded that maybe he hadn’t survived. Which just piled a shit-ton of guilt onto my shoulders because it was supposed to be me in that mine. He had gone in place of me and now he was dead.

It was the only explanation that made sense. I was used to Jake disappearing for days at a time, but never as long as he had been now. And he didn’t seem like the type to tell me he loved me and then leave without a single explanation. Not unless he had to. But it had been three months and as much as I missed him, as much as my chest ached with the thought that we would never eat Chinese food out of shitty motels and have that on-the-run ending we talked about, I had accepted that he wasn’t coming back.

I wonder if he had known about Richy or if he had died still thinking Michael Hanson was the one who had kidnapped Hannah. I wonder if his last thoughts were of me. Maybe it’s selfish, but I kind of hope they were, because I’m pretty sure I’ll think about him for the rest of my life.

I wonder what it would have felt like to run my hands through his hair. To kiss him. To spend every waking moment with him and know it was because I loved him. Because I would have. Talking to Jake became about more than just finding Hannah. It became a part of my day I looked forward to more than anything else. He confided in me in a way that told me he never had with anyone, maybe not even Hannah, and I needed that from somebody. I needed somebody to trust in me the way that Jake did. I needed somebody to love me the way that Jake did.

It was strange—and maybe a little ironic—the thought that something so beautiful could come out of something so tragic.

Anyway, my point is: it’s been a long couple of months. Of thinking about my friends. Of thinking about Jake. Of wondering if I should have done things differently. I should have gone to Duskwood to help. Not even with the mine, but sooner. I could have. I could’ve gone when Jessy was attacked on the way home. I could’ve gone when the group made plans to cut out of town and hide away in the house Richy had found. Selfishly, I should have. In that moment, when they were settled around the fire and Lilly called me, I had never remembered wanting anything more. I should have grabbed Jake—metaphorically, maybe even literally—and rode it out with them to the end.

I don’t stop missing them after three months. Of wishing things could have been different. Wishing I could have done more. But exactly ninety-five days after the explosion in the mine, seventy days since I had accepted that Jake was never coming back, twenty-two days since I had last heard from anybody from Duskwood (Dan included), my phone dings with a new message.

And the cycle starts all over again.

It’s somebody named Eric, who claims he needs my help to find his friend Adam, who disappeared while he was waiting for a ride in someplace called Redlog Pines. And much like with Duskwood, I have never heard of Redlog, and the case reminds me way too much of Thomas’ first message to me, so much that it makes my chest ache, but I can’t say no because there’s somebody missing, and if I’d say no the first time, God knows where Hannah would be.

So, I say yes, and I help out where I can, and Eric decides he needs to bring about four more friends in on his little plan and I try my best to stay emotionally unattached because I remember everything that happened the last time and I can’t go through that again. I offer up information when I can and keep my words short and careful because I’m not ready to get attached to somebody else I know I might never meet.

I know how this ends.

Two days in, Ash, one of Eric’s friends, brings up my Duskwood past and the unhealed wound I’ve been trying to mend breaks open again. She asks about Richy, and about the mine, and then because I’m me and I can’t help myself, I tell her about Jake. She tells me the news never mentioned another body and I shove that thought to the back of my head because hoping for something that will never come true will kill me.

Four days into Adam’s disappearance, and the police not giving a shit—as Charlie, somebody who reminds me far too much of Richy for comfort, points out—my phone beeps with an incoming call from somebody I haven’t spoken to in a while.

“Go for [MC].” I answer my phone.

Ever since Hannah had been found in the mine and Jake had…you know, my phone had been more silent than I’d gotten used to. Until this new case. But even that—it was only a few days old and I didn’t want to go down the same path with them that I did with my friends in Duskwood. We didn’t really know each other that long, sure—even though sometimes it’d felt like it—but it felt like I’d finally been a part of something. Like, I had found these people who had chosen me for me.

And originally, maybe they had. Maybe they’d had every intention of keeping me around, but then Richy was the Man Without A Face and Alan Bloomgate had rescued Hannah and nothing was the same as it had been when we’d met each other. We knew too many secrets about each other by the time the town settled. Secrets we would have to take to the grave.

Or maybe I’m losing my mind a bit and I had really only been a means to an end.

Either way.

“Alan?” I raise my voice when there’s nothing but breathing on the other end of the line. “Did you mean to call me?”

His tone is clipped. “I found something.”

“You found something.” I repeat.

My heart clenches. For all I know, it might fall into my stomach. As far I know, from watching the news, from what Ash told me, Jake’s body was never found. Richy’s was. Or what was left of him to find, anyway. I had assumed that there just hadn’t been enough of Jake left. The thought left me nauseous, but it was better than hoping for something I knew I could never have.

“I’m sending it to your phone now.” He responds. “Let me know what you think of this.”

And then he hangs up.

That was a riveting conversation, I think as my phone dings with a message. I do my best to ignore my other messages—contacts from Duskwood I’m still not ready to acknowledge—and click Alan Bloomgate. He sent me a video that looks like—oh God.

Immediately, I’m overcome with emotion as an all-too-familiar forest pops up on my phone. It’s a video of Alan’s bodycam footage. He’s searching the Duskwood forest. A forest I’ve seen too many times in the background of other video calls.

I watch as he stumbles upon an object that’s too dark to make out at first. When he gets closer, it’s clear that it’s a backpack. It’s simple. Black. Nothing about it that screams this is mine and I left it here about anybody in particular. You stupid, stupid idiot, I tell my heart when it rattles against my chest in hope. He’s dead.

Alan stands and treks away from the backpack—I want to scream at him to go back, to open it and look through it and tell me if it’s what my heart aches to believe, but I can’t, because this is a video and I’m simply watching with wide eyes, waiting for…for something. But then. But then, he moves further into the forest and I watch as he stumbles upon an object that makes my knees tremble and tears rush to my eyes and my hands shake. A black hoodie. It looks like it’s been through hell, with holes scattered up the sleeves and dirt cakes into the hood, but it’s unmistakably his.

And then—Alan lifts the hood and picks up something that makes me sink to my knees with a sob that wracks my entire frame. Because I’m staring at Jake’s mask. The mask he doesn’t go anywhere without. The mask that protects him. And so my relief is short-lived, because I realize that even if he’s alive—which seems like a very big possibility at this point—he’s alive without the things that he needs to survive.

And then the anger kicks in. Because if he’s been alive, on his own, for three months—why has he not contacted me? Unless he survived the mine but he didn’t survive the after. But that didn’t make any sense. So, okay, he wasn’t dead. But that didn’t make any sense either. He told me he wouldn’t let them catch him. Because catching that meant he would be apart from me. Did something happen that prevented him from being able to reach out and tell me he was at least okay? A quick text that said didn’t die in the explosion in the mine, you don’t need to mourn me, by the way, going off radar for another year. Did he think I would have given up on him?

I wipe my eyes and shoot a message to Alan.

ME: Recently?? Did nobody search the forests before?      

ALAN: Searched the forests for what, [MC]? The logical assumption seemed to be that if anybody was inside the mine when Richy set the fire, they would have perished alongside him. Officers were stationed outside every known entrance and exit. Besides, after the story you and your friends spun around this town, do you think anybody would have gone back into its forests?

ME: But it’s possible?

ALAN: I would say these items had been there for some time. But I would say it is likely he ditched them when he fled the mine, yes.

Another sob tears through my throat. Jake is alive. I don’t know quite what that means for us as of now, but I know it’s the best news I’ve heard since Hannah was found. Jake is alive. He’s out there somewhere. And even if it’s been three months, and even if I’m a little bit mad at him right now, I know that if he was here, I would throw my arms around his neck and hold on to him until someone dragged me off, and even then—I would fight kicking and screaming.

I close out of my messages with Alan and pull up a conversation I haven’t had the heart to look at in quite some time.

ME: Jake’s alive.

LILLY: …

LILLY: Have you spoken to him?

ME: Alan called. He found some of Jake’s things in Duskwood. I don’t know a lot of details. But I know he made it out of the mine.

Lilly types for a long while, but she doesn’t respond. I don’t take it personally. I think it’s probably hard for her to be happy that her brother’s okay while also trying to accept that her sister may never be okay again. Her sister, who had once-upon-a-time been kind-of-sort-of in love with their brother she didn’t know she had. I think that would probably mess with any family’s heads. And on top of all that, you throw in manslaughter and a kidnapping. I wouldn’t wish anybody, not even my worst enemy, to have had to go through what the Donforts had.

When it becomes adamant that Lilly isn’t going to respond, I start scrolling through messages with the rest of the group in Duskwood. I click on Jessy. I’m here if you need me. That had been the last thing I sent to her, a couple of days after Richy’s death. She hadn’t responded. I click out of Jessy’s contact and click on Thomas’ instead. Thank you for everything. That had been his last message to me after we found Hannah. I’d liked it. I hadn’t expected at the time it would be the last thing we’d ever say to each other. I click out of Thomas’ and click on Richy. So, you want to turn yourself in? I’d asked. That was before he called me. Before he lit a match and burned himself and the mine to the ground. Some people would call that heroic. I mostly call him a coward.

I click on Jake’s name. It’s been a while since I read messages between the two of us. Maybe before I had accepted—thought—he was dead. In that twenty-five-day period when I’d hoped with all I’d had that he would come back. I love you. That was the last message he sent me. I’d responded with I love you too, Jake. Then, four days later: Are you okay? A week later: Jake, please, you’re starting to scare me. I know you said you would contact when you could, but it’s been a week. After twenty-five days, when I had finally accepted our fate, I’d sent one final message: I hope you know that I love you, and I will always care about you, but I think it’s time for me to move on. I’m so sorry that I sent you into the mine. It should have been me. And I will probably feel the guilt from that for the rest of my life. Thank you for everything. Take care of yourself, wherever you are.

After that, I had closed out of our messages and hadn’t looked back. Partly because I couldn’t bear the pain of it. It felt like I had given up on him. I hadn’t—if I had thought for a second that he was alive, if I knew then what I know now, I would have never sent that message. But holding out hope for somebody who I thought was a ghost at the time? That was slowly killing me.

It’s only then that I notice the screen flickering. Much like the way it used to whenever Jake would hack into my phone. I don’t think he’s much in the mood to be hacking right now, but somehow, I know it’s him. When had he done this? Recently? If I had opened our messages, would I have seen this ten—twenty—even fifty days ago? It hadn’t looked like this the last time I texted him. Did he see my last message about needing to move on? Was that why he hadn’t reached out to tell me that he was okay? Because he thought I was moving on happily without him?

No, my brain supplies. He wouldn’t. He would reach out anyway, because he knows how much the thought of him not being okay would have destroyed you.

The screen flickers once more and then a message pops up, bright and blue-tinted and clear as day on my phone.

[MC]

I WILL FIND YOU

And the world around me shifts.

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

Maybe it sounds crazy, considering I’ve never seen his face before, but I always thought that if I’d ran into Jake one day, maybe on the street or at one of those motels he stayed at or maybe even in Duskwood, surrounded by all our friends, I would know it was him. I would, because it’s him, and it’s me, and we’re the only two people who understand each other quite the way we do.

I still believe that.

I believe it when I book my flight to Duskwood (or rather, twenty miles outside of town, which is the closest airport). I believe it when I board the airplane and find a seat next to a mother with her screaming child and when I shoot off a quick text to Eric to let him know I’ll be MIA for the next few hours, but to message me if he needs anything—and I think about how much easier this case would probably be to solve if we had Jake.

Maybe it would have been harder to find Hannah without me, but I know damn well they would’ve never found her without Jake.

Dan picks me up from the airport. I haven’t told the others yet. Something about it felt off—like I shouldn’t message them and say hey, I know we haven’t spoken in a while, but I’m booking a flight to look into why my maybe-slash-not-really boyfriend left his belongings in a forest we really wish we could forget about, and by the way, can I crash at your place?

It’s quiet on the car ride back into town. I’m looking through my messages from Eric and the group from Redlog Pines and thinking about how I’m Duskwood with this group and I want so badly to laugh because it’s ironic, but Dan wouldn’t understand. He might just call me crazy. Better yet, he would ask how I manage to get myself into these situations, and really, I don’t have an answer for him.

“How have you been?” I ask, just to break the tension, as Charlie, in my messages, tries to persuade his friends to head back into that creepy cave in the middle of the forest. He’s going to get someone killed, I think.

Dan looks over at me. “Are you still with Hackerman?”

My chest squeezes. “His name is Jake, Dan. And we were never really together.”

“Hm.” He nods like he doesn’t quite believe me. “You already know mostly everything that’s been happening here. Thomas and Hannah called it quits. They say it was some mutual decision, but it’s hard to find them in the same room together. Jessy hasn’t been out with us since. I think we remind her too much of Richy. The group’s all changed.”

“And you?” I ask.

He gives me a cheshire-like grin that doesn’t quite meet his eyes. “I’m always the same.”

We make it to Duskwood just as the sun’s going down. Much too late for me to try and trek through the forest and retrace the steps Jake might have taken that night. Not that I think it would help give me any clues as to where he might have gone, but mostly because I wonder if it will make me feel closer to him. We’ve never been in the same place before, and even if he’s not there now—he once was.

“Can you drop me at the police station?”

Dan blinks. “The police station.”

I nod. “Yeah.”

“We answered their questions for weeks, [MC]. I don’t think anything you have to tell them at this point is going to help. The investigation’s closed. Everybody knows Richy did it. He died with the fire in the mine. Everybody’s trying to move on from that.” He works his jaw. “Did you come here to open old wounds after all this time?”

I try not to show the hurt look on my face. “This isn’t about Richy. Look, Alan called me. He asked if I could look at some things. I figured it was better for me to do it in person. That’s it. Nothing to do with Richy. Nothing to do with Jessy. Nothing to do with you.”

He sighs, and I’m not entirely sure he’s going to abide by my wishes until we pull in front of a tiny building—tinier than most—that says Duskwood Police on the sign. Duskwood must not have that much crime. Well, not until this, I suppose.

“Thank you.” I tell him as I reach over to undo my seatbelt and climb out of the car. “This is a nice ride, by the way.”

He raises a hand in some mock-salute. “Need me to pick you up?”

“Nah.” I shake my head. “Think I’ll explore the town for a little bit.”

“Suit yourself.” He shrugs and then he’s off.

I square my shoulders and take a deep breath before opening the door to the police station. It wasn’t like Alan asked me to come down here. He hadn’t. Even during the investigation into Richy’s death and Hannah’s kidnapping, when he questioned us, he never asked me to come to Duskwood. We’d done way too many video calls and phone calls and at one point, I had asked if he thought it would be easier for me to come to Duskwood, to which he responded back, are you ready for that?

No, I hadn’t been. I’m not even so sure I was now. But knowing that Jake was alive, that here was the last place was, I had to try.

“Can I help you?” The woman at the front desk asks.

I clear my throat. “I was wondering if I could speak to Alan Bloomgate. I’m one of—I was involved in the Hannah Donfort case. My name is [MC].”

Her eyes widen. “Give me a moment.” She stands and heads to some back office—which looks to me more like a closet—and then returns with a clipped smile. “He’ll be right out.”

Apparently, she isn’t lying, because not two minutes later, Alan is stepping out from the same door and staring me down. I hold his gaze and hope it says that I’m not here to argue. I will tell him my truth, but only my truth, not Hannah’s, not Jake’s, not anybody else’s.

“I was wondering when I would see you.” He says.

I shrug one shoulder. “Isn’t a few months later better than never?”

“Let’s go into my office.” He says, and leads me around the desk and back into the closet space he had come out of. He sits behind the desk and motions for me to take a seat opposite him. “I’m just going to guess you’re not here to talk about Miss Donfort.”

“I want to see them.” I tell him. “His things. I want to see them for myself. And whatever you want from me in return, I’ll give to you.”

“You’re playing a dangerous game here, [MC].”

“He isn’t a game to me.” I snap back and then sit back and try to relax. “I appreciate that you called me. It’s—I helped you find Hannah. I would do it again. Even with knowing the things that we do now, I would do it all again. That’s how much that group means to me. That’s how much he means to me. I’m not asking you to break any rules or to lie for him or to—to let him hide in your basement for the next five years. I’m just asking you to show me what you found.”

He stares me down for a moment. Then, he sighs, says “wait here for a minute” and disappears to another room. When he comes back, it’s with an evidence bag in his hand filled with the objects I saw on his bodycam footage. My breath hitches in my throat.

“I can’t let you touch them.” He says as he lays them in front of me.

I stare into the eyes of the mask. “Did you tell anybody that he’s alive?”

“I don’t know that he’s alive,” is all the answer he gives, which is an answer to my question. I slide my gaze down to the black hoodie, to the dirtied sleeves and muddy hood, and think about the fact that Jake wore this. I’m so close to him.

And yet I’ve never been further away from him.

“Thank you.” I tell him. “For—for this. And for listening to me about Hannah. If you hadn’t, I—I don’t know what would have happened. How much longer he would have gone on for. If he would have ever stopped.”

Alan’s silent for a minute. Then, he clears his throat. “You know, it was strange to me. Both Hannah and yourself swore to me that neither of you knew the other.”

“I don’t.” I swear.

It was one of the (albeit many) things that didn’t make sense to me. How Hannah got a hold of my number. How she sent it to Thomas. She’d told Alan she hadn’t really remembered texting him my number at all.

“I believe you.” He reassures. “I just think it’s strange. One mistake, if you can call it that, and you throw yourself into a missing persons case to help a stranger.”

“They’re not strangers.” Even though Hannah is kind of still a stranger.

“But they were.” Alan reasons. “You had no reason to say yes to helping Thomas. I doubt anybody would have held it against you if you turned the other way. But you decided to follow this until the end. To make sure they found Hannah. And you care about them. Maybe that’s why I find that I’m more lenient with you than maybe I should be. Why you’re sitting across from me right now calling the shots. Why I’m not asking you about the hacker.”

“I wouldn’t tell you if you did.” I look him in the eye so he knows I’m telling the truth.

He returns my gaze. “Maybe that’s the other reason.”

“Hm.” I acknowledge before I turn my gaze away—from him, from the objects that I know belong to Jake and it takes everything in me not to snatch them up and run. “Well. Thank you for allowing me to steal some of your time. For letting me—” I cut myself off before I say something that makes me break down in a fit of tears in front of him. “—just thank you.”

Leaving the station is easier than coming in. I’m still not any closer to knowing where Jake is than I was when I arrived here, but there’s a comfort in knowing he walked these streets. I wonder what he would think if he knew I was here. He hadn’t wanted me to come to Duskwood when everything was happening…but now that it was over, would he be happy that I was here? That I had come to Duskwood to piece together where he might have gone? Would he track my location and come to find me and…or was I grasping at straws?

It felt like I had just gotten him back. Not really, not entirely…but knowing that he was alive, that he was out there somewhere, maybe thinking of me and looking for ways to come back, to live the life we talked about when he asked me if I was sure…that was worth it. The thought that we could maybe someday have that—even if it was a twenty percent chance.

I check my phone again to see a new message from Ash. She’s asking me if I’ve heard from Charlie in the last few hours. Apparently, he’s AWOL, and I want to help, really, but…it doesn’t really feel like that’s where I am at the moment. Not just physically—obviously—but mentally. We got lucky with Hannah. And that was really only because we had Jake. Adam didn’t have a Jake. Or…maybe he did and I just hadn’t met him yet. But I already had a Jake and I didn’t want another one.

Maybe—if I found him, I could convince him to help. That was a big maybe. Not because I thought Jake would say no. He would say yes to anything I asked of him. The maybe was whether or not I could find him. More likely, the maybe was whether or not he would find me.

Three months ago, I would have been able to come to Duskwood and have no shortage of things I wanted to do and people I wanted to see. Now, as I stand outside Duskwood’s police station, I feel nothing but loneliness. Nobody knows I’m here. I could pass Thomas on the street and he wouldn’t even know it. I could run into Jessy at the library and she would walk by me without even a second thought. Why would they? I hadn’t told them I was here.

So, with nothing left to do, I walked. Toward the town center. Toward the library that Jessy showed me on our walk through Duskwood. Toward the Rainbow Café where I knew that Cleo and Hannah had spent a lot of their time. Toward the Black Swan. Toward—

Ah, what the hell.

I had nothing better to do and The Aurora seemed like a great place to drown my sorrows. To think about my next steps. To figure out—now that I was in Duskwood—what I planned to do. The thing about Jake being so secretive (and on the run) was that I couldn’t retrace his steps. I wasn’t able to ask if anyone had seen him. One, because he would make sure nobody had. And two, because three months was a long time to forget somebody’s face if you didn’t know who you were looking for.

I pull open the door to the bar and step inside. Immediately, I’m hit with the stench of whiskey and a handful of chatter. Duskwood’s a small town. And The Aurora definitely proves it. The bartenders move melodically around each other, serving patrons on the other side of the bar. If you walk down further, there’s a handful of tables.

And dead in the center is a table with my friends. Or, some of them. Dan and Cleo and Lilly. Could I still call them my friends? Ex-friends, maybe? Acquaintances? I didn’t know what they were. Or how to address them. It wasn’t like we had gotten into a fight. We didn’t stop talking for any reason other than that we did. We stopped talking.

I make a beeline for the bar to avoid a confrontation and plant myself on one of the stools. One of the bartenders—a girl cute with bleach blonde hair and brown Bambi eyes—asks what I want and I channel my inner Dan to order a whiskey—neat.

Looking over my shoulder, I focus on the table of them. On Lilly, who’s smiling at something Cleo said. On Dan, who’s the only one of them who actually knows I’m here. But even he’s focused on the conversation they’re having. It’s strange—to see Dan a part of something I’m not sure he would have been before. It’s nice.

“[MC]?”

I turn my head away from the table of my friends and focus my attention across the bar on someone I should’ve expected to see. “Phil.”

“I thought I recognized your voice from when we talked.” He smiles. “I wasn’t sure, but I saw you staring longingly at them—” He nods towards Dan and Cleo and Lilly. “—and I knew. What brings you around here? I expected you to show up maybe a few months ago, but by now, I thought you’d moved on without us.”

I was tired of the words move on. Like I’d had a choice. Like the people from this town might open their arms and welcome me back into their lives. So I’d been part of the group who’d saved Hannah Donfort. So had a lot of people. It didn’t make me special and everyone here knew it.

I offer him a smile in return. “I’m looking for somebody.”

“Anybody I know?” He asks.

I shake my head. “Nah. At least nobody you would recognize.” I pause. “How’s Jessy?”

“She’s—Jessy.” He answers, like that is an answer. “I don’t know if she’ll ever really be okay with the way things happened with Richy. I wouldn’t expect her to. Obviously. But I don’t know. I think I just thought she would have gone back to her normal life by now. And then I remember that most of her life revolved around him. He was her best friend. She worked for him. And I’m trying to be patient about that. But—” He shakes his head. “Maybe you should talk to her.”

“She doesn’t know I’m in town.”

“Okay.” He hums. “So, you’re not in town for my sister. And you’re not in town for your group of friends because they’re over there and you look like you’d rather be anywhere else. There’s always Hannah, but I don’t think you knew her that well. Or at all. Would I be right to assume this is about a certain hacker who helped to find Hannah?”

“He didn’t help find Hannah.” I defend. ���He was the entire reason we found Hannah. I would have never been able to do it on my own. Even with the others’ help. He’s the only reason we found out about—” I pause before I say something I maybe shouldn’t. “It doesn’t matter. He’s the only reason we found her. Everything I did was just dumb luck.”

“That wasn’t what the news said.” A voice cuts in and I turn my attention from Phil to focus on the stranger that slides into the seat beside me. Not too close—a couple inches away. I don’t recognize him. I don’t know him. But I don’t know every person in Duskwood. Maybe a total of like nine or ten. “I’m sorry to interrupt. But I heard you had a lot to do with finding Hannah Donfort. The news said you were some kind of hero.”

I offer him a tight smile. “That’s nice of them. But…if they knew my—friend—knew what he did to find her, I don’t think I would be as much of a hero as everybody says.”

“That’s noble.” He says, eyes meeting mine, and it strikes me at once how handsome he is. He has dark hair. Bright green eyes. Focus, [MC]. I scold. You have a…a someone.

My phone buzzes.

ERIC SENT A PHOTO.

ERIC: What do you make of this?

I sigh and click on the photo. It’s of—some object. Much like the one that was addressed to me on the envelope in Adam’s glove compartment. The image is a bit different—but I don’t know enough about what it means to have an answer as to why.

ME: Was this one addressed to me?

ERIC: Nope. Ash.

“Are you okay?” Phil asks.

I clear my throat. “I’m a popular person—apparently.” A thought strikes. “Have you ever heard of a place called Redlog Pines?”

Phil frowns. “No.”

I turn to look at the stranger. “You?”

“Redlog Pines is a small town about two hundred miles north of Duskwood.” He answers. “Known for their wooded forests, much like Duskwood.”

“Why are you looking into a place with forests as creepy as ours?” Phil asks, incredulously. “Didn’t you get enough of that with Hannah’s case?”

“Yeah.” I sigh. “You would think.”

“Hey, [MC]!”

I wince at the sound of Dan’s voice. Shooting Phil a look that screams please help me to which he shakes his head amusedly, I turn and plaster on a fake smile as I take in the shocked looks on Cleo and Lilly’s faces. I should have known better than to come to The Aurora and talk to Phil when the three of them were having a conversation across the room. I should have known they would sooner or later see me. I just hoped it was later.

“Hey.” I hop off my stool and make my way across the bar to them. “It’s, uh, fancy seeing the three of you here.”

“What are you doing here?” Cleo asks.

“I haven’t really figured that out.” My eyes meet Lilly’s. “It sounds crazy to say it out loud. But I was hoping that—I’m not sure if Lilly told you—”

“That Jake’s alive.” Cleo nods. “None of us ever really thought he wasn’t.”

I don’t think she means it as a dig—but it still feels like one. Like she’s saying you gave up on him you gave up on him you gave up on him even though she’s not and she didn’t really know him and the only person I can talk to at this table who even might understand is Lilly and even—Jake didn’t confide in her the way he did me.

“Right.” I acknowledge. “So I thought that maybe if I came here, I could trace his steps from when he was here and—I haven’t really thought that far ahead. It’s not like I thought he left me any clues in the forest or anything like that. I don’t think he expected me to be here. He hadn’t wanted me to be the last time we talked. But that was before everything happened.”

Lilly’s eyes track behind me. “Does Jake still have Nymos on your phone?”

“Uh.” I furrow my brows. “I think so. I hadn’t heard from him in a while, but I went back and read through our messages after I talked to Alan and…my phone glitched, like it used to when Jake had hacked it. And then this message appeared on my screen.”

“And by chance, can Nymos track your location?”

“What—” I shake my head. “Maybe. I don’t think I ever really asked him. It didn’t seem necessary at the time.”

“Uh huh.” She focuses on me once more. “Let’s say, for one minute, that Jake has access to Nymos who has access to your location.”

Cleo must catch onto something I’m not sure of. “Jake didn’t want you here.”

“Uh, thank you?”

“You know that’s not what I mean.” She waves me off. “He didn’t want you in Duskwood. He had been adamant about that when we were talking about the mine. That’s why he went. If you showed up in Duskwood—”

“Nymos would have alerted him.” Dan finishes.

“Okay…” I’m not entirely sure I’m on the same page as them. “So—you think that Jake found out when I came to Duskwood.”

“Correct.” Lilly beams like she just solved life’s greatest mystery.

“And you think he would—come find me?”

She smiles sympathetically at me—like I’m the world’s biggest idiot for not realizing what she has been trying to say sooner. “I think he already has.”

“You think Jake’s in Duskwood.” I deadpan.

“[MC].” Cleo grabs my shoulders and turns me around. “We think he’s in this bar.”

Stranger, as I had nicknamed him—AKA the guy sitting beside me at the bar, with Phil and Redlog Pines (which he probably only knew about because of me) and the whole Hannah being kidnapped and not taking any of the credit thing—was looking back at me. So was Phil. Like they thought I was the crazy one. Like it would’ve been so hard for him to look and me and say it’s me or anything that might have clued me into the fact that—

“Jake?” I whisper, because I’ve lost quite a bit of sleep over the past couple of months and I’m not one hundred percent sure what—or who—I’m seeing is real. “Are you here?”

He tilts his head and smiles at me. Actually smiles. A bit shyly, like it’s something he’s not used to doing, but maybe like it’s something he could get used to. And I think about how terrible I probably look right now because I’m not wearing makeup and my hair is tousled from constantly pulling at it and my clothes are wrinkled from the plane and the police station and I look like a mess. But our relationship has never been about looks. Clearly. I didn’t even know the person I’d been talking to until Lilly and Cleo and even Dan pointed out the obvious.

“If I—” I close my eyes and open them again. Nope. Still there. “I need you to still be there by the time I reach you because it’s been a—” I sniffle. “—it’s been a rough few months and I don’t think I could handle you disappearing again.”

He stands from the stool he was sitting on and shuffles his feet. Like he’s not quite sure where he’s supposed to stand. If he thinks about moving, I’ll tackle him onto the floor of The Aurora and then apologize to Phil later. It feels like everything I wanted is right here in front of me. And I’m scared to death that it’s not real.

“What’s one thing you would take with you if you were stranded on an island?”

His smile stretches. “My computer.”

And that—that’s what breaks me. I think I might start blubbering like an idiot but I don’t remember the time it takes for me to cross the measly twenty feet between us. All I remember is grabbing his black hoodie—because of course—and dragging him to me. I don’t kiss him, despite how much I want to, because I don’t want our first kiss to be tainted with my snot and tears. Instead, I bury my face in his collarbone and wrap my arms around his neck and hold on for dear life.

Because I can. Because he isn’t dead.

“Y—You’re here.” I pull back and cup his face with my hands. “How are you here?”

“You came to Duskwood.” He responds, and then—hesitantly—he presses his lips to my forehead in a kiss. “Alan called you.”

“He found your things in the forest.” I whisper back. “He said they’d been there a while. The police hadn’t searched the forest because they assume you died in the mine.”

“They aren’t looking for me here.” He confirms. “I didn’t expect it to take so long for them to find my belongings, but I anticipated that you would find out. At the time, it wasn’t safe for me to reach out and contact you. They kept on my trail for a while before they assumed I died in the mine with Richy.”

“Why didn’t you contact me then?” I ask. “Is it because of what I last messaged you? I didn’t mean it��I swear, I thought you were dead. If I had known you were alive, I would have waited, however long it took. I wasn’t trying to give up on you.”

“Hey.” He places both hands on either side of my face. “I know. I know that, [MC]. That was never why I didn’t reach out to you. I know you said you wanted this life with me. But I didn’t want that for you. But I was selfish. I couldn’t let you go. So I was trying to find a way to make both of those things true. But I was always coming back to you.”

“And did you?”

“Come back to you?” He asks.

I sniffle. “Find a way to make both of those things true.”

“Not entirely.” He admits. “Nymos alerted me you had boarded a plane headed in the direction of Duskwood and I—” He shook his head. “I knew I would find you here.”

“You could have found me sooner.”

He lets go of my face and he feels like he takes my skin with him. “It wasn’t that easy.”

“It could have been.” I demand.

I’m angry again. Now that I know he’s alive and okay and that he could have found me, I’m angry that he didn’t. I told him I would choose that life with him. Over and over and over. He didn’t need to make the decision for me. He didn’t need to try and protect me. And yes, maybe the fact that he did makes my heart flutter a tiny little bit, but that’s besides the point.

“I told you before you left me.” I tell him and I’m aware it sounds like we’ve been in a relationship for five years and I’m aware that everybody in here is watching and listening in on our conversation and they probably all know we’re who we are, two people involved in helping to find the kidnapped Hannah Donfort, and maybe that’s all we’ll ever be in this town. But I would rather be the girl who found Hannah Donfort in Duskwood with him than be me anywhere else. “You told me you would let me go with you.”

“That was before I told you I loved you.”

My heart skips a beat. It screams I love you I love you I love you back, but I say— “What does that have to do with anything?”

He looks somewhat amused. Like he knows I would never hold it against him. It’s clear to both of us that I wouldn’t because even though I’m glaring up at him with my furrowed eyebrows and my lips pouted, I’m still pressed tightly against him. His hands—even though they’ve moved from my face—are now resting on my hips. Pulling my tighter to him. There’s no space in between us. If it was up to me, I’m pretty sure there never would be again.

“[MC].” He says, and oh god I wish he would say my name every day for the rest of his life. “Have I—in the short time we have known each other—ever struck you as the type of person who says I love you? But with you…” His words are a whisper against my lips. “It’s easy to fall back into old emotions with you.”

“I want to be angry with you.” I tell him.

He shakes his head. “No, you don’t.”

“No, I don’t.” I agree. “But I might be if you don’t kiss me.”

He brought one finger underneath my chin and tilted it up until our lips were separated by a fraction of an inch. My eyelids fluttered. I didn’t care that everyone in here was about to see just how much Jake meant to be. I didn’t care because I had waited too long for this. And then—just as I’m leaning toward him to press our lips together, he whispers— “[MC]?”

“Hm.” I acknowledge.

“Who’s Eric?”

My eyelids crack open and I shove at his chest. “That’s what you’re worried about right now? Here I am, in front of you, covered in snot and tears and who-knows-what-else because you’re here right now, and you’re worried about some guy I don’t even know?”

“Who’s Eric?” He repeats.

“Ugh.” I run my hands through my hair and take a step back. “I don’t know. He’s the other side of Thomas or whatever you want to call him. If we lived in a different town.” I glare back at him and try not to admit that I think his jealous side is a little cute. “He messaged me. Thought I picked up his friend from some parking lot and I didn’t, but his friend sent him my number, and it was Hannah all over again. I’m trying to help them.”

“This Adam has been sending you a lot of videos.”

“You know I hate when you hack my phone.” I complain, even though I really don’t. Even though I had prayed for him to help me with this case. “I really don’t know Adam. Like—even less than I know Eric.

“But you know Eric.”

“For like a week.” I reassure. “He added me to this group chat with him and like three other friends of his. They’re desperate to find Adam who has apparently dropped off the face of the earth and I don’t know what to do. I had you with Hannah’s case. And you knew her. And they—” I look over my shoulder at Cleo and Dan and Lilly, who are pretending like they’re not listening in even though I know and Jake knows they are. “—they knew her. And obviously Adam’s friends must know him but I don’t and you don’t and there is no Jake in Redlog Pines.”

“I don’t trust him.” He shakes his head. “Any of them.”

I laugh. “Jake, you didn’t trust half the people in this bar when we first started talking.” I look over at Phil and then Dan. “It doesn’t mean they committed a crime. If I had backed off when you asked me to help you find Hannah, we may never have.”

“I thought that was all thanks to me.” He sounds smug, like that little smiley face he loved to annoy me with (AKA make me fall in love with him). “Did he flirt with you?”

“No.” I deadpan. “I think he was focused on his missing friend.”

“I was focused on my missing sister.” He shoots back.

I close my mouth. Alright. He has a point. But I wasn’t flirting with Eric. He was focused on finding Adam and I was focused on mourning—and then finding—Jake. Maybe it felt like Eric and I were two sides of the same coin. Maybe that’s why I agreed to help him. Because I didn’t want to happen to him what I thought had happened to Jake—to me.

“You’re being ridiculous.” I say instead. “How do you think I could ever entertain the idea of being with somebody else when for the past three months—more than that if you count the time we have actually had together—I’ve been focused on you? On discussing Hannah with you and then talking to you about anything and everything and then worrying about you and then hating you a little for convincing me you should me the one to go into the mine and then mourning you when it was hard to even think about you and then finding you?”

His eyes are wide. I think I’ve rendered him speechless. Which—serves him right. I know he’s not somebody who serves their feelings up on a silver platter. I know that. Obviously, I knew that from the first time I spoke to him. Back when he was nothing more than ??? and I was almost convinced that Dan was right and he was the Man Without A Face—a thought that I now hate with everything in me. But I need him to trust me. Jealousy streak and FBI and the missing persons cases aside, he needs to trust me.

“Trust me.” I cup the sides of his face again. “He’s nothing like you.”

He swallows. “Some people might consider that to be a perk.”

“I don’t.” I say.

And then I’m kissing him and it feels like coming home.

[innerfare]

Type of Date - Part 2

Summary: What sort of dates do they take you on?

Characters: Shanks, Beckman, Crocodile, Corazon, Doflamingo, Mihawk, and Smoker

Genre: Fluff

CW: None // SFW

——— 

Shanks: A carnival or fair for sure. He’ll bet you a kiss you can’t get a higher score than him throwing darts at the balloon board and then proceed to ‘accidentally’ stumble into you when it’s your turn so you have no choice but to kiss him (also the sort to beg you for a kiss on the cheek and then turn his face so you kiss his lips). He’ll buy you cotton candy, funnel cakes, and all sorts of unhealthy confections, insisting he doesn’t want any only to steal big bites of yours. And when he loses at the ring toss, he’ll just steal a stuffed animal prize anyway claiming it’s an ethical crime because those games are rigged. You'll probably end up sitting at a bar for quite a while after having a few too many drinks.

Beckman: I know he doesn’t canonically own a motorcycle but I just really can see him having one and taking you out for a long, evening ride as a date (maybe a canonical equivalent would be him taking you out on the water, but we’re sticking with the motorcycle for now). You maybe end up on a cliffside sitting together on a picnic blanket, sharing a snack and something to drink. He might read to you, or you might just sit in comfortable silence with your head on his shoulder or his in your lap. Might also take you to a bookstore or small coffee shop he's been going to for ages. And wherever you go with Beckman, the two of you always end up watching the sunset together. 

Crocodile: Dinner and a show. The dinner will be textbook fine dining, with multiple courses and drinks; he orders for you at the restaurant. And the show will be something a little racy, like cabaret. He’s an asshole about it, too, accepting transponder snail calls in the middle of dinner, his mind on work most of the time. And in the middle of the show, just as it gets to the good part, he’ll step outside to smoke a cigar. If it’s a date he’s a little more present on, he might take you to a casino and teach you how to gamble (i.e., how to cheat at cards). 

Doflamingo: He’ll take you shopping first so he can have complete control over what you wear, and he’ll buy you multiple outfits, including shoes and jewelry, to commit you to multiple dates before the first is over. He takes you to dinner afterward and rents out the entire restaurant so it’s just the two of you; he refuses to share you. He might also book a spa day for you both (this man knows how to indulge in the finer things).

Corazon: Cora is all about those classic, romantic dates (especially ones where he doesn’t have to talk if he’s nonverbal in your relationship). He enjoys taking you to small cinemas that screen old films, especially old horror films that are pretty funny due to bad special effects, or else rent out a theatre or take you to the drive-in so you two can have some more privacy; you’ll stay long after the movie is finished and stargaze between kisses. 

Mihawk: He’ll take you on a private tour of a winery. You’ll sample expensive wines together and debate various flavors and aging processes (he’ll definitely judge you by your taste in wine). When you’re not in a heated debate, you’ll share light conversation, and after the sun sets, you’ll walk the fields together. He’ll steal a few kisses off you, too, and kiss your hand at the end of the night.  

Smoker: He might take you for a late night dinner (super private, super low-key, don’t think for a second he’ll be putting on a real shirt), or he might take you shooting so he can teach you a thing or two. He’ll most definitely stand behind you with his arms around you to correct your stance, and he’ll squeeze your shoulder when he tells you that you did a good job. 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[milktei]

Hold me Tight

Kamisato Ayato x fem!wife!Reader

Genre: Arranged Marriage au, idk if it can be called a slow burn but that’s what I’m calling it, fluff, smidge of angst.

Warnings: unconventional relationship, Reader is described to have long hair that is brushed through. not edited

Requests: Open

a/n: another one out! :o Had to indulge myself a little bit before getting back to requests. arranged marriage au’s are my guilty pleasure and i just felt like writing for genshin again. Hair brushing and physical affection is also just such a big thing for me I had to write it. So if it isn’t obvious i wrote this mostly for selfish reasons and that is the reason why it may be sort of all over the place lol. I hope it’s enjoyable either way!

A hug is all you longed for really. For someone to wrap warm arms around you and let you completely melt into them.

Being married it should be an easy ask

How unfortunate it is for you that your husband wants nothing to do with you.

Although the more you thought about it, perhaps that wasn’t entirely true. He did agree to the marriage hadn’t he?

He was the head of his clan, the Yashiro commissioner. Throughout the entirety of the process of arranging your marriage, Kamisato Ayato had every right, and more than enough chances to stop it from going through.

He had nothing to lose if he decided he wasn’t ready for marriage, which was an excuse many citizens of Inazuma had heard over the years.

He really had nothing to gain from it either.

It confused you from the day the elders of your clan elatedly told you that by some insane amount of luck, the Kamisato Ayato had accepted “your” marriage proposal that had been sent in as almost an obligation.

There was no harm in trying and you were now living proof of that.

Why you? out of all the suitors he definitely had, he had chosen you. While your clan was one of the head producers of tea leaves in the country, you still couldn’t wrap your mind around his acceptance, it was not like the Kamisato’s needed the tea, they could have afforded it anyways.

There was no political gain for him either as he was already a tri-commissioner, you weren’t even in line to become heir! Your uncle was the head of the clan and your cousins would follow in his footsteps.

The gossip about you flew all over inazuma like a storm cloud, and you heard it all, people weren’t always subtle in their curiosity or distaste in you after all.

Some of the talk was harsh and negative, and yet you couldn’t help but partially agree with what some people were saying about you.

You were a nobody as far as nobility went. The only reason you could think of as to why Ayato chose you, was likely to reduce the amount of mail that he got, as the marriage proposals had virtually stopped after your wedding. Aside from some particularly desperate people.

Perhaps you really were the best candidate for him. You weren’t a prominent figure in the public eye, you weren’t after the Kamisato’s fame and fortune, and you weren’t the type of person to fawn over your husband 24/7 and demand he shower you in riches and attention.

Although you almost wish that you were. Maybe then you wouldn’t be longing for a hug as badly as you currently were.

While it was true that being married to Ayato meant that you had nearly everything you could ask for at your fingertips, and that it was rare for you to be denied anything—not like you asked for much anyways—the one thing you could not ask for, was your husband’s affection. How ironic. the one person you spewed rehearsed vows to about being his rock and what not, was the one person you could not get an ounce of love or affection from.

Of course you had never really had the chance to try at this point, as despite being married for 6 months already, you can count the amount of times you had a full conversation with the man on one hand.

“I hope that you can find it in you to excuse my lord. He is a very busy man.” Thoma had told you the day you had moved in and your husband was no where to be seen. The look he gave you the mixture of empathy and a wince.

That was the day reality set in. He looked at you kindly on the day you got married. Soft smiles graced both of your features during the ceremony, and you two spoke amicably during the extravagant reception. But this was an arranged marriage, a contract more than a relationship, and you both had duties to fulfill.

A smile that had been drilled into you since your etiquette classes from your youth crossed your face “There’s no need to worry about me Thoma, I understand.”

So you had to learn to get used to being alone in an estate bustling with people. You opened your wedding gifts alone, sorted them accordingly and even sent out an astonishing amount of individual thank you cards to all the guests you had at your wedding.

You often ate alone, save for the times Ayaka and Thoma had time to accompany you. Aside from being reached out to for second opinions or approval you weren’t given a formal job on the estate. Instead you were given an allowance, and were free to spend your days doing whatever you wanted, so long as the Kamisato name was protected.

Yes that was another thing you had to get used to, “Kamisato y/n”, “My lady Kamisato.” Hearing the latter was especially hard, that title felt as if it was reserved only for your sister-in-law, she definitely represented it with more grace than you thought you were ever capable of.

The name and all the responsibilities it came with weighed down on your shoulders unlike anything you had every experienced prior, and here you pushed against it alone. Forced to go through the transition into married life without the other half of the partnership to support you.

That led you to your predicament now. You were coming to the realization that you were horribly touch starved.

It was even worse on cold windy days, or when it rained. All it did was remind you about how your late parents would use those days to curl up with you, a warm blanket, and a book to laze the day away and wish for nicer weather the next so that you could go out on a picnic.

you longed for those days of warmth and love again. Your family had been quite affectionate with one another. While Ayaka would come and spend time with you, treating you like an older sibling. Nothing could reach the craving deep within you.

You sighed to yourself as you walked through the streets of Inazuma, ignoring the whispers of people who passed and recognized who you were.

Or rather who you were married to.

“My lady Kamisato!” greeted the Yae publishing house worker. “You’ve come at a great time, the new volume of your favourite series has just released.”

The worker handed you the book in question and you couldn’t help the excitement that rose within you as you quickly flipped through “I was hoping that I’d be able to pick something up today. I’ve been needing more things to do when the weather doesn’t permit me to go outside. Any other recommendations?”

The worker smiled at you sweetly and handed you another book “Surely Lord Ayato, is able to keep you from getting too bored at the estate my lady?”

Your smile faltered ever so slightly, you couldn’t let it drop in front of the worker, the last thing you wanted was for anymore rumours to spread. You pretended to read the synopsis of the book that was handed to you. “Yes of course, but there are still times where he is not available. My husband is a very busy man.”

My husband, you didn’t think you would ever get used to referring to him as that. He felt like nothing more than a stranger who’s house you happened to live in, who you shared a family name with, who would grace you with a soft smile and a nod as you passed each other at the estate each making your ways to your separate rooms.

A gust of wind blew through the streets and both you and the worker shivered. You looked at the sky and frowned at the dark clouds rolling in, you flinched as a singular rain drop landed on your cheek.

The worker also looked up “it really is rainy season isn’t it?” they looked to you “I would recommend you head home soon my lady, looks like it’s gonna come down any minute now and you’ve got a long walk back to the Kamisato estate”

You sighed, “what a shame, I was hoping to run a couple more errands today.” you payed for both books and placed them into your bag with a smile “thank you for the advice I’ll head out now.”

You walked away from the shop in the direction of the estate, waving behind you as the worker told you to stay safe.

———

Perhaps you should have stayed in town.

You come to this realization as you’re halfway to the estate. Komore tea house would have been much nicer than the weather you were experiencing currently.

The singular raindrop you had felt earlier had slowly progressed into a little more than a drizzle and you groaned to yourself as your clothing grew heavier as it absorbed more and more water.

You should have grabbed your umbrella

It was practically pouring by the time you had gotten to the estate, the trees of Chinju forest providing surprisingly little shelter against the rain.

Quickly, you rushed under the cover of the roof of the estate and sighed in relief once you weren’t being pelted by water. You looked down at you clothes and cringed at the water dripping from the fabric and your hair onto the dark wood

Wringing out what you could beforehand, you opened the front doors of the estate as quietly as you could, albeit in vain as Thoma and your husband were having a discussion right at the entrance.

Both men turned to look at you as the door closed and you could only stare back awkwardly as the sound of water dripping from you clothes and hair, along with your shivering filled the room.

Thoma was the first to break the silence and began fussing over you not unlike a mother hen.

“My lady you’re soaking wet! You’re going to get sick! I’ll have the maids draw a bath for you. Please allow me to grab your belongings. I’ll have tea ready for you once you’re done.

Before you knew it, you were standing in your bathroom with a steaming tub waiting for you. Still bewildered at what had transpired moments before.

Still, Thoma and his efforts were never unwelcome as the bath was exactly what you needed.

You took your time in the bath, taking in the scent of the flowers and oils put in by the maids, appreciating how well the water warmed your once cold body.

Once finished, you were quick to dry off and get dressed, still towel drying your hair as you entered your room.

As promised, Thoma had left a tea set on the table in your room with a container holding tea leaves, knowing you liked to brew it yourself.

The only thing out of place was an extra tea cup.

As if on cue, the door to your room was gently slid open and your jaw nearly dropped at the sight of pale blue hair.

“My lord!” you greeted, the words leaving you mouth before you could even try to stop them.

Ayato paused as the two of you made eye contact, it was almost as if he was surprised himself that you were in your own room.

Ayato was the first to regain his composure after clearing his throat. “Majority of my plans for today have been cancelled due to the weather, I was hoping you could allow me to join you for a bit.”

Your head was spinning, not able to wrap itself around the fact that your husband was in your room and actively trying to spend time with you.

“Of course if that’s how you wish to spend your free time my lord.” you stammered, part of you still believing that this was some sort of dream.

A small shiver ran down your spine and you were reminded of the damp hair that ran down your back. You looked to the vanity in your room and then back at your husband.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I would like to fix my hair situation beforehand.”

“Of course y/n there’s no need to worry, it’s just me.”

That was precisely why you were panicking on the inside at that moment. It was only the man who was so busy, that his presence in the house on a daily basis resembled that of a gust of wind.

You sat down at you vanity and picked up one of your combs, beginning the task of untangling the mess you had created both in the rain and bath.

You nearly groaned out loud to yourself, you had kept your hair long to be able to use the multitude of flamboyant hair accessories you had acquired, but brushing it had always been your least favourite part of the entire process.

A awkward cough caused you to look at the man in your room.

“if you are comfortable with it…I could help you brush your hair.”

You stared in shock at the man in front of you. His face was genuine but you could tell by the reddening of his ears that he was flustered, the most you had ever seen from him.

The combination of being a witness to such a rare site and the fact that you were still in shock that he was there in the first place, had you speaking without much thought.

“That would be very helpful my lord, thank you.”

The surprise on his face was visible You could only hope that your whirlwind of emotions wasn’t as obvious.

Still, not one to go back on his word, Ayato gently took the comb from your outstretched hand and began to work. His powerful presence behind you almost causing you to curl in on yourself.

He was gentle, his hands warm as they followed your comb, a warm feeling spread throughout you chest as he so carefully detangled your hair, taking his time.

You hoped that he wouldn’t be able notice through your reflection just how flustered you were at this moment. Your face was hot, your breathing was slightly rapid and you couldn’t find it in yourself to look up at the mirror in fear that your eyes would connect.

Yet this moment felt so intimate, so tender and domestic. You could almost believe that you two were much closer than you really were.

A soft chuckle broke you from your thoughts.

“This brings me back.” Ayato sighed wistfully, “when we were younger, Ayaka would let me do this for her. Though she seemed less than impressed when I would try different styles on her. I wonder if she would trust me with her hair again after all this time.”

You smiled down at your fidgeting hands “I’m sure she would if you promised no more experiments my lord.”

Ayato hummed in contemplation “I suppose you may be right, but at the same time maybe I won’t need to ask her if I already have yours within reach.” He leaned closer to your ear, “After all, am I wrong to assume that you are enjoying this my dear wife?”

Your face felt like it was on fire, you had never heard him call you that to your face before. You could feel the smug smile that was currently gracing his features as he leaned back and continued his actions.

“Well?” He urged after a moment

“No you are not wrong to assume that my lord.” You managed to stammer out. Your hands clenched into fists in your lap as you forced yourself to say the truth, knowing well that he would be able to see through any lie.

He sighed. “Please y/n I think we’re at a point where we can drop the formalities.”

Your eyes widened at his words and you spoke the first thing that came to mind.

“Are we really?”

His hand that was holding the brush froze mid stroke, the room was suddenly filled with a chilled silence and you cringed at the amount of malice an anger that you managed to fit into one simple question.

This was no way to talk to the man you were married to.

“Forgive me my… Ayato. I did not mean to sound so harsh I just-“

“No no there’s no need to apologize.” ayato assured. He raked a hand through your hair and chuckled bitterly, “I supposed it is my fault that you feel this way about our…situation

You opened your mouth to protest but nothing came out. What he said wasn’t a lie to make you feel better for snapping at him. It was entirely the truth and you were grateful that he understood where you were coming from.

“Finished.” He stated softly before placing the comb back on your vanity. “I hope that I haven’t worn out my welcome.”

You paused for a moment, thinking about the situation you found yourself in, while wanting to get yourself out of the awkward moment, you knew that a chance to spend time with him again would be rare.

“You haven’t, don’t worry,” you stated as you slowly rose from your seat. Still refusing to look up at him you gestured to the low table where the tea set sat, “Please have a seat, I’ll brew the tea for us.”

It was quiet as you worked, the only sounds in the room being the clink of tea set, and the crinkle of tatami mats. You thanked Thoma in your mind when you saw that he had prepared leaves that were better steeped in lower temperatures, as the water had cooled down since he first boiled it.

“We’ll have to wait a couple minutes.” You said as you closed the lid of the teapot. Ayato nodded and an awkward silence filled the room.

“I don’t want to use me being busy as an excuse.” Ayato suddenly blurted out.

You finally look up at him in surprise “Pardon?”

Ayato cleared his throat “My apologies. It’s just that I know that everyone has been using me being busy to excuse me for being absent in this relationship. While I know that lin its simplest terms, what we have between us is a contract, part of me still hoped that I would be able to get to know you well and we could be much more than strangers. There are many times where I could have put my work aside and spent more time with you, but I for some reason I never found myself taking those opportunities.”

He looked almost guilty as he continued. “Now here I am, months later knowing next to nothing about you, and on top of that I expected you to be comfortable with speaking casually around me when we have barely even spoken before.

You pondered to yourself as you poured tea into his cup “Well if it makes you feel any better,” you poured more into your own “I also know next to nothing about you.”

“Unfortunately that only seems to add salt to the wounds my dear.” Ayato grumbled.

Your eyes widened at the pet name and you quickly lifted your teacup to your face to hide your embarrassment.

Ayato followed suit and hummed in satisfaction as he drank. “Well I do know one thing now. My wife is excellent at brewing tea. It must run in your family’s genes.”

You waved him off “it’s just something that comes with experience, my uncle is the true master.”

“I also now know that my wife finds it hard to accept compliments.”

“Hey!”

Ayato smiled at you teasingly as you glared at him, though there was no anger behind it.

“Well now that’s unfair,” you stated “I should get to learn something about you now.”

Your husband raised an eyebrow, “well what would you like to know?”

You faltered for a moment, not expecting him to relent so easily, “well…” you stuttered, “what type of tea would you consider your favourite?”

“Really digging deep are we y/n?”

“I couldn’t think of something straight away!”

Despite the teasing, the questions continued, it was as if you were on a first date.

Except you were already living together and married.

One question was asked after the other. Ranging from you asking him about the daily life of a tri-commissioner, to him asking about the books you had bought earlier in the day.

It was only after Thoma had brought dinner to your room, that you had finally asked.

“So why me?”

Ayato’s chopsticks paused mid air “Why what?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, he was playing dumb.

“Why did Inazuma’s most desired bachelor, Yashiro commissioner, leader of the famed Shuumatsuban, and the man who brought the Kamisato Clan back to its former glory, the Kamisato Ayato. Decide that a nobody from a tea producing clan was the one you would want to spend the rest of you life with.”

Ayato looked at you in exasperation “You aren’t a nobody y/n there’s so much more to you.”

“We don’t need to get down to the specifics, don’t avoid the question!” You exclaimed, ignoring the pleased smile on his face as he took in your flustered state.

Ayato put a hand to his chin and hummed as if contemplating something grand. He took a moment to respond. “Would you believe me if I said that I found you to be a very interesting person y/n?”

You stared at him blankly.

“Don’t lie to me we didn’t even meet until the wedding.”

The smile that he sent you sent a chill down your spine “Well I suppose that’s true in a sense, but we have been in each other’s presence on multiple occasions.”

You couldn’t mask the your surprise, “we have?”

Ayato looked at you incredulously. “Surely you know how often the Yashiro commission requests supplies from your clan for the multiple events we host.”

You fiddled with your teacup “Well sure but that doesn’t mean that it was a guarantee that we bump into each other. I’m sure I would have remembered being in the presence of you of all people.”

Ayato shrugged, “Being in the public eye is much more my sisters domain. I tend to stick to the shadows during bigger festivals that I’m interested in. During one of these times… you caught my eye.”

Your eyes widened “I did?”

He looked bashful as he continued his story, you were sure that you were the first person to ever see him in this state.

“I always knew of you, as I often meet with your uncle for business. I don’t know if you know this but he often worries about you and tends to talk about you during these meetings.” Ayato hummed in contemplation. “Perhaps it was a tactic to make me say yes to the upcoming proposal”

You groaned in horror at the realization that the two men had been talking about you “I apologize for my uncles actions.”

Ayato waved dismissively “Thats not the point. At a festival is where I first saw you and was able to put a name to a face. What I didn’t expect was the fact that everything about you had fascinated me. The way you danced and had that kind of sparkle in you eyes as you wandered around in wonder. The way you kindly greeted everyone you met. I found myself looking for you at following festivals to see if that was always how you looked…it was.”

“So it was only my looks” you teased

he sighed exasperated “Of course not”

You laughed “I’m kidding. Keep going.”

“Then at one point I was due for a meeting at your estate with your uncle and I might have listened in on a deal you were striking with a business man. The confidence in your voice was obvious and the way you negotiated with grace and kindness, yet still with firmness, had me intrigued within the first couple seconds of me hearing it. My interest only grew when your meeting had concluded and I saw you step out. with an accomplished smile on your face”

You gaped at him, you very rarely took part in your family’s business deals, only helping with what your cousins or uncle were too busy to handle. For him to be there at that time on that day was truly a great coincidence.

“You really piqued my interest that day. Although it was not my first choice in ways to get closer to you, when I saw the proposal sent by your clan, everything seemed to fall into place.” Ayato laughed but his tone soon turned solemn.

“Unfortunately not everything worked out for me, because look at how things are going. I left you to fend for yourself against the public, we rarely see each other, and this is the longest we have ever spoken despite being married for months. I think I was just afraid of crossing any boundaries, after all this marriage is arranged and I had no idea as to how you felt about me.”

Without thinking you reached over the table and grabbed one of his hands in both of yours, touched by how vulnerable he was being with you, “I wouldn’t have agreed to the marriage so easily if I thought ill of you in any way, while I may not have known you, you also piqued my interest. I won’t lie I was- still am extremely shocked, but I saw nothing bad coming out of this marriage really. It started off slow but we’re talking now, and well, don’t you think we’ve made some great progress?”

He smiled endearingly at you, “yes, I am grateful for this opportunity and hope that we can continue on this path.”

You laughed, “now you’re making it sound like a business deal.”

After that, you and Ayato finished your dinner making pleasant conversation. The sun had long gone down when he made the call for the both of you to retire for the night.

He once again stood in the doorway of your room, only this time you were standing right in front of him.

“I’ll have a heavier workload tomorrow but I think I’ll be able to join you for dinner again.”

You smiled up at him “I would like that, please let me know if there’s anything I can help you with, I’m part of this clan too you know.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, thank you y/n.”

There was a pause and Ayato reluctantly continued. “Well I should take my leave for the night.”

As he turned, something seemed to overcome you, and you grabbed at his wrist,

“Ayato.”

He froze and turned to look at you curiously. you shyly looked away, “before you go. May I have a hug?”

He gave you a teasing smile, “this is all happening so fast, what will everyone think?”

“Oh please we’re already married.”

He laughed and his smile softened.

Without anymore words, Ayato opened his arms.

You couldn’t hold back the giddy smile that crossed your face and without hesitation you allowed yourself to melt into his embrace for the first time in what would become many.

A scent that was uniquely his filled your nose, and as you pressed against his chest you could feel and hear his heart pounding just as hard as yours. You nearly sighed in satisfaction as you wrapped your arms around his waist. A need you had been suppressing for months had finally been fulfilled. His hold was strong and comforting, his hold making you feel like you again.

Ayato chuckled to himself as his grip tightened, “well now I’ve found myself in a predicament.”

Still holding onto him, you turned your head to look up at him. “What is it?”

“I don’t want to let go.”

[jaennwrites]

MW2 Headcanons!!

This is my first time ever doing headcanons so bear with me fr, I’m spoiling myself with this lowkey self insert but shoutout to all the “crazy” sleepers, we deserve it fr.

COD guys sleeping with their “crazy” sleeping S/O

cw: completely sfw, fluff, big strong killing men being soft for their s/o, gender neutral :) characters included: Simon 'Ghost' Riley, John 'Soap' MacTavish, Captain John Price, Alejandro Vargas, Phillip Graves (I can fix him fr)

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley: ⋰ The first time you and Ghost slept in the same bed, you woke him up with the “insane” (his description) amount that you were moving. ⋰ He genuinely woke up in a panic thinking you were being attacked or something. ⋰ When he comes home to you sleeping already, it’s a process of gently reorganizing your sprawled limbs as to not wake you from what he was sure was a great sleep. ⋰ The times you two get the chance to actually lay in bed together before you fall asleep; Ghost will wrap his arms tightly around you as well as throwing a leg over you for security. This ensures that you don’t move at all, you laughed at the idea in the beginning but you’d never admit that you slept better that way anyways. 

John ‘Soap’ MacTavish: ⋰ Soap finds the way you sleep absolutely hilarious, the many times he came home to you sleeping is when he would silently lose his mind at the positions you were in.  ⋰ He has a photo album compiled of photos of you sleeping, some being pictures of your face because Soap PREACHES that you look absolutely “stunning” when you sleep. ⋰ Majority of the pictures are your weird body positions that invoke hysteria whenever he sees them.  ⋰ After he’d finish laughing at your sleeping frame, he’d simply shift you to the point where he’d wake you but you didn’t care. You’d simply make space for him; mumbling questions about his day which he’d tiredly mumbled back but before you two could even finish your incoherent conversation, you were both off to sleep. ⋰ Soap was a deep sleeper so your frequent movement didn’t bother him in the slightest, as if you two were made to sleep in the same bed together. 

Captain John Price: ⋰ Price couldn’t believe that someone could move as much as you did in your sleep.  ⋰ The first time you both slept in a bed together he awoke on multiple occasions to various limbs on his face, but what had made the experience worth it? After a while, almost as if your sleeping body had gotten tired from all the movement, you’d just get “cuddly” and he’d only awake to your grabbing hands looking for any contact of him.  ⋰ When Price came home to you sleeping he couldn’t help but laugh a little in the positions he’d find you in, but he’d simply gently adjust your frame to make space for himself as well as assuring that you weren’t doing anything that would hurt you before getting into bed. ⋰ You would think that with Price being such a “neat” sleeper that he’d hate sleeping with you but he didn’t mind in the slightest.  ⋰ He wouldn’t admit it in favor of having something to tease you about but the nights he slept with you were the only times he got a good sleep.

Alejandro Vargas: ⋰ When you and Alejandro first slept together it was the best sleep of both of your lives. ⋰ It was as if two crazy sleepers came together to make on semi-normal sleeping entity.  ⋰ You and Alejandro fell asleep in each others arms and always awoke kinda in the same way (emphasis on kinda). Whether it was you hugging his torso and him hugging your head, or his head halfway down your back, arms wrapped tightly around your waist.  ⋰ When he’d come home and you were already asleep, he’d simply get into bed and your arms would immediately find him.  ⋰ The nights that you and Alejandro got to fall asleep together you guys were always teasing and messing with each other, it would always end him wrapping his arms tightly around you, refusing to let you go and you’d end up just falling asleep in his grasp. ⋰ You both hated sleeping apart from each other, you never slept as good. 

Phillip Graves: ⋰ Graves hated the way you slept so much that he loved it, he had such mixed feelings about the way your body practically “assaulted” him while you slept. ⋰ He always complained about your sleeping habits, he’d talk your head off about it yet the nights where you both had been in the house all day long, he was practically begging you to come to bed with him.  ⋰ The nights Graves came home to you sleeping, he’d stand in the doorway and just watch your silly positions, once he was comfortable enough and had gotten his visual fill; he’d sit on his side of the bed and almost immediately your hands would tiredly find their way to his torso attempting to pull him into the abyss of the warm shared bed.  ⋰ His favorite memory of you is the time in which he awoke to you soundly sleeping on top of him with a very secure hold on him. ⋰ If you ever asked Graves what his favorite thing about you was, he’d always say the way you slept.