#i just want the lecturers to know the details and just How intense she is

[tardis--dreams]

Ok i reported her after she sent me two more emails. It's not gonna do anything but i just really wanted my lecturer to know so-

[connieisthesun]

Chemistry and Cadavers - Conrad fisher x reader

Chapter Summary - You, a bright-eyed sophomore college student majoring in biology stumble upon Conrad fisher, an attractive yet forgetful student who happens to forget his pen on his first day of class...

Warnings - Fluff, teasing, super cute tbh haha

*Authors note* - So I've decided to start a new series due to the nonexistent amount of new tsitp fic's here lmao, if you enjoy a like a repost would be appreciated. Let me know if you have any feedback to improve my writing. Enjoy loves!

Chapter 1: Chemistry and Cadavers

The crisp autumn air on the college campus was invigorating, bringing with it the promise of a new academic year filled with possibilities. The campus was alive with the sounds of students hurrying to their classes, the rustling of leaves in the trees, and the distant hum of chatter from the quad. Among the new faces and returning students was Y/N, a bright and ambitious sophomore majoring in biology.

Y/N had always been passionate about the sciences, and this year, she was especially excited about her anatomy and physiology class. Little did she know that her enthusiasm for the subject would lead to a series of events that would change her college experience in ways she hadn’t anticipated.

As she walked into the lecture hall, she noticed the familiar faces of her classmates and scanned the room for an available seat. She spotted a spot in the middle of the room and made her way over, settling into her chair just as the professor walked in.

“Good morning, everyone,” the professor greeted, his voice carrying a tone of authority and excitement. “Today, we’re diving into the intricacies of human anatomy, and I have a feeling this semester is going to be an exciting journey.”

Y/N smiled to herself, her excitement bubbling over as the professor began the lecture. She took out her notebook, ready to absorb every detail of the day’s lesson. As the lecture progressed, she couldn’t help but notice the student sitting a few rows ahead of her, who seemed to be struggling with his notes and the lecture material. He had tousled brown hair, a laid-back demeanor, and an occasional frustrated glance at his notes.

When the lecture ended, Y/N gathered her things and headed out of the lecture hall, intending to grab a coffee before her next class. As she walked through the bustling hallway, she was approached by a friendly voice.

“Hey, Y/N, wait up!”

She turned to see her friend Lila catching up with her. “Hey, Lila! What’s up?”

“I heard you were in the anatomy lecture this morning. How was it?” Lila asked, a teasing smile on her face.

“It was great,” Y/N replied. “I’m really looking forward to this semester. Anatomy is such a fascinating subject.”

Lila’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “You know, I think you might have a classmate who’s also taking that course. He’s known for being a bit of a mess, especially when it comes to anatomy. His name is Conrad Fisher.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Conrad Fisher? I think I saw him in class today. He seemed to be having a hard time keeping up.”

Lila laughed. “That’s the one. He’s actually a really nice guy, but he’s notorious for needing a little extra help with his studies. If you see him around, you might want to keep an eye out. He’s always borrowing pens or asking for assistance.”

Y/N chuckled. “Noted. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Later that week, Y/N found herself in the anatomy lab for the first time. The lab was a place of intense focus and concentration, with rows of cadaver tables and an array of dissection tools neatly arranged. The room was filled with the quiet murmur of students working together, and the scent of formaldehyde lingered in the air.

Y/N set up her station and began to review the lab manual when she heard a voice nearby.

“Hey, do you have a spare pen?” the voice asked.

Y/N looked up to see Conrad Fisher standing beside her table, his expression a mix of embarrassment and frustration. He held up a pen cap, indicating that he had lost the actual pen.

“Sure, here you go,” Y/N said, handing him a pen with a smile.

“Thanks,” Conrad said, taking the pen and looking visibly relieved. “I seem to have misplaced mine again. I swear, it’s like they disappear into thin air.”

Y/N laughed softly. “It happens. You’ll get used to the lab environment eventually.”

Conrad smiled gratefully. “I hope so. I’m Conrad, by the way. I think we’re going to be lab partners for this course.”

“Y/N,” she said, extending her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

As they worked side by side, Y/N found that Conrad’s easygoing nature and good humor made the long hours in the lab more enjoyable. They talked about their classes, shared stories, and found themselves falling into a comfortable rhythm of collaboration. Despite the occasional moments of distraction and light-hearted teasing, they made a great team.

Over the next few weeks, their interactions continued to be marked by playful banter and occasional flirtation. Conrad would often ask Y/N for help with his dissections, and she would gladly oblige, offering guidance and tips with a teasing edge.

One day, as they were working on a particularly challenging dissection, Conrad looked up from his work with a grin. “So, Y/N, do you have any other hidden talents besides being a dissecting wizard?”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a mischievous smile. “Well, I can bake a mean batch of cookies, if that counts.”

Conrad’s eyes lit up with interest. “Cookies? Now you’re speaking my language. Maybe I’ll have to take you up on that offer sometime.”

“Only if you promise not to lose any more pens,” Y/N replied playfully.

Conrad laughed, shaking his head. “Deal. I’ll do my best to keep track of my writing instruments from now on.”

Their banter became a regular feature of their interactions, and the chemistry between them was evident to everyone around them. Despite their undeniable connection, they both maintained a façade of casual friendship, much to the amusement of their friends.

One afternoon, after a particularly grueling lab session, Conrad and Y/N found themselves sitting on a bench outside the science building, taking a well-deserved break.

“I think that was the most challenging dissection we’ve had yet,” Conrad said, stretching his arms. “I’m glad we made it through.”

Y/N nodded in agreement, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “I have to say, your technique is improving. You’re almost as good as me now.”

Conrad raised an eyebrow. “Almost? I’ll take that as a compliment.”

As they chatted, a group of their friends approached, and one of them, Sarah, gave them a knowing smile. “You two seem to be getting along quite well.”

Y/N and Conrad exchanged a glance, both of them trying to suppress their smiles. “We’re just lab partners,” Y/N said casually.

“Sure, just lab partners,” Sarah said with a teasing grin. “But everyone can see the chemistry between you two.”

Conrad blushed slightly, and Y/N couldn’t help but laugh. “We’re just friends, honestly.”

Sarah and the others laughed and continued on their way, leaving Y/N and Conrad to their conversation.

“You know,” Conrad said, his tone playful, “it’s funny how everyone is always trying to push us together.”

Y/N shrugged, trying to hide her own smile. “It’s probably just because we spend so much time together. It’s hard not to notice the dynamic.”

Conrad’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Well, if they’re right, maybe we should just embrace the idea.”

Y/N gave him a playful nudge. “Oh, really? And what would that look like?”

Conrad leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a mock-serious tone. “It would probably involve a lot more teasing, a few more flirtatious comments, and maybe even some impromptu study dates.”

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “Sounds like a lot of work. I think we’re doing just fine as friends.”

“Agreed,” Conrad said, his smile warm and genuine. “But it’s fun to think about.”

As the weeks passed, Y/N and Conrad’s playful flirtation continued, with their friends often teasing them about their obvious chemistry. Despite their mutual attraction and the flirtatious banter, they remained steadfast in their commitment to being just friends.

Their interactions were filled with laughter and light-hearted teasing, creating a dynamic that was both enjoyable and endearing. Whether it was borrowing pens, helping with dissections, or sharing jokes, their connection grew stronger with each passing day.

As the semester progressed, Y/N and Conrad found themselves increasingly drawn to each other, their friendship evolving into something deeper and more meaningful. Despite their best efforts to deny their feelings, the chemistry between them was undeniable, and their playful banter only served to highlight the growing connection they shared.

Tag list - @conradfisherswifesstuff @cheezbot @grxnde-dwt @itsshayfr @lanivoid @calpurnia2002

Comment or heart to be added.

[live-laugh-lenney]

Idk if you’ve seen g-xix’s posts about Arthur’s boxing days and it has got me on my kneeeees😭😭 like imagine being at an event he’s fighting at as a guest or even the venues first aider👀 u get to wipe the blood from his face and look after him and he’s staring at you while u work and you don’t even notice because ur so focused on making him better and u look up and just make eye contact uuuuuugh!!!!!

stop ittttt...

"you're so pretty," he mumbles softly, "so pretty."

"okay, arthur, how hard did you get hit?"

he cocks a confused eyebrow in her direction, which sent an intense stinging pain across his face from the open wound that was bleeding from behind the hairs of one of his eyebrows, wincing softly before the pain subsided from the way his skin stretched to accommodate his expression. his face was aching; his eyes were sore and watery and his cheeks still felt like they were being hit, head throbbing from the way he'd been punched and knocked back, and his eyebrow was pulsing as blood dribbled down his cheek.

this was a tame injury compared to what she had dealt with before as a volunteer first-aider.

where she was still in university, she was looking for opportunities to help push herself higher in the world outside of her uni walls and that would give her a resumé that would knock the socks off her any of her future employers when she was let free from education. she took up a volunteering job, having been trained in the job beforehand, that involved being able to help people and being there as a lookout if things went sour.

so a split eyebrow was nothing compared to the broken noses she had seen or the fractured eye-sockets that she'd had to send off for further attention so she was glad arthur wasn't badly injured enough to require hospital attention and a stay in a patient's ward.

"i didn't get hit that hard but if you think this is bad then," he leans a little closer in her direction and brings his voice to a hushed whisper, "you should definitely see the other guy."

she snorts out a laugh of amusement and his lips cock up into a grin, that was almost a cocky looking smirk, and she busies herself and her hands by reaching for cotton-wool balls and some disinfectant to soak the material in so she could clear up the dried blood on his skin.

she did know of arthur around university.

she'd bumped into him and his friends a few times on her nights out, when she had no volunteering and had no work to finish before her deadlines, and she was forever walking passed him in the corridors on her way to her lectures and they never shied away from saying 'hi' to each other... she found him cute, in an endearing way... a way that made her want to get to know him a little more.

"i've seen the other guy. i was watching the whole thing," she admits, head dipped down as she focused on soaking the cotton (as well as her fingers) in the disinfectant solution in her hand, "i never knew you were a boxer."

"i needed something to keep myself fit," he shrugs, eyes completely smitten with staring at her; the way she moved so elegantly around the small medical room of the hall they were in, the way she was so gentle with everything she did, how focused she was on her job, "you got the gruesome side to all of this."

"i like helping people."

and, deep down, arthur's heart softened because... of course she did.

when she looked back in his direction, bowl full of soaking cotton-wool balls held tight in her hand, his eyes darted somewhere else in the room. a poster, which detailed the human body, becoming a lot more interesting than being caught watching her.

"arthur-"

"i wasn't-"

"no, i just need you to look directly at me so i can clean the cut," she says softly and he didn't realise just how close to him she was, almost standing between his dangling legs, and the smell of disinfectant was strong in his nose, "i won't bite."

she uses her free hand to guide his face into a better position, under the light so she could see how clean his wound was, and his stubble was sharp against the pads of her thumb and fingers. as she went to look at the bleeding wound, he couldn't help but look at her... eyes making eye-contact and she felt her legs turning into jelly.

"you are so pretty," he whispers softly, "believe me, please."

"arthur-"

"i should get beaten up more often," he says with a cheeky smile, "the first aider is one i'd love to see again." xx

[rogueddie]

Disabled Steve / Eddie Fics

Important: READ THE TAGS! Also, leave a comment and kudos! These fics are amazing and I love them and I hope y'all do too 🦻

give me a sign

findmeinthewychelm

It was sweet torture the way Steve was pining over him. Robin was sick of listening to him talk about Eddie, but she also hadn’t stopped him yet.

Words : 4,235 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : General Audiences

AO3 : x

what would you trade the pain for (i'm not sure)

Library_of_Gage

Steve doesn't bother anyone with his chronic pain; it's something he'd rather keep to himself. And then it spikes in the Upside Down, in front of Eddie Munson, and Steve slowly starts to learn that, sometimes, sharing what hurts does help.

Words : 8,230 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Teen and Up Audiences

AO3 : x

Our Love is Shown in the Letting Go

Xxbottlecapxx

Steve’s mother comes home and has to deal with the fact that she has no idea who her son is, and maybe never will.

Words : 10,189 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Not Rated

AO3 : x

Who Am I to Say What Any of This Means?

IndigoFudge

Eddie’s eyebrows are raised. He’s speaking deliberately. “My first grade teacher set up a meeting with Wayne and told him she thought I had autism. So Wayne took me to the doctors and it turned out she was right.”

He is still looking at Steve. Oh. Steve’s been staring at him like an idiot for forty seconds instead of acknowledging this important, incredibly personal detail that he has just shared. Steve remembers eye contact––one, two, three––then answers. “That’s cool.”

“Steve,” Eddie says, carefully. “Have you ever been tested? Because I’ve been noticing… When I look at you, I kinda see some signs.”

Words : 7,371 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Teen and Up Audiences

AO3 : x

she'll know me crazy, soothe me daily (better yet, she wouldn't care)

jewishrat420

Eddie doesn’t really cry about this anymore. He’s long since shed his own personal tears of pity, spent enough time mourning a different life. He’s accepted it, for the most part, doesn’t really give a shit about being normal or whatever. No one’s normal.

But this…Eddie’s not used to this. He’s never had someone hold his face in their hands, look him dead in the eyes and say, “Eddie Munson. For better or for worse, and fuck, I know this is worse, I want to know you.”

Words : 3,988 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Teen and Up Audiences

AO3 : x

the beginning of a bad joke

alligator_writes

At the beginning of his rant, lecture, whatever, Hottie stares right at him. He has a really intense stare. Pretty brown eyes set in a prettier face with even prettier hair on top of his head. Eddie gets distracted by all that pretty and by trying to make his point.

And he doesn’t notice until halfway through that Hottie isn’t looking at him anymore. He’s looking at his friend.

Eddie looks at her, too. Looks at her confused and focused expression. Looks at her hands moving rapidly.

Oh. G-d.

Hottie’s deaf, isn’t he?

Words : 7,083 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Teen and Up Audiences

AO3 : x

I Took The Good Times, I’ll Take The Bad Times (I Take You Just The Way You Are)

steddieeddie

In 1984, Eddie Munson told Steve he was going to marry him one day laying in the quiet confines of Steve’s room.

In 1985, they broke up. It wasn’t because they wanted to, but because Steve thought they had to. They spent almost an entire year apart, hurting, wondering about what could have been.

In 1986, Steve Harrington was almost fatally injured in the final attack against The Upside Down, against Vecna. He spent seventy six days comatose, and then almost an entire year in the hospital learning how to be a person again. He learns how to open and close his hands, hold things, and how to feed himself again. Steve learns how to stand, how to walk, going from walker to cane by the time he is allowed to go home.

In 1987, he did just that. He goes home.

It was a slow process. Way slower than Steve wanted it to be, but it was worth it.

Sure, his hands were never going to work the same, there was constant pain in his arms and left leg, and he would never walk without a cane, but at least he’s alive.

He made it.

That was what mattered.

Words : 30,101 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Mature

AO3 : x

[cigarettesaftersae]

cream puff - 03 this spring

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Series: shidou ryusei x f!reader | contains : fluff, (slight)angst, a bit suggestive(its shidou.), highschool au, troublemaker shidou, reader loves baking, spring :P, warning is shidou

masterlist

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Dear Diary, im severely thinking about how this spring is blossoming with surprises. My bakery life might come a little sooner than i thought, thanks i guess ryusei And the milk boxes are delicious

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

You really can’t shake the feeling off, his whole vibe, his look, and smile, blonde to pinkish hair, striking eyeliner makeup- which is confidently much better than yours for some reason. Now some may confuse this with ‘love’ but you swear to your cherry pink heart, it isn’t. It’s something else, right? Right. Because right now, you glare him down, he’s took custom of the place where you wished you carved your name into so you wouldn’t be all the way in the back of the class. Pain of hearing the teacher in the front, blurry across the room of the board. He’s just messing around, not paying attention unlike you, you would’ve written down notes that could battle Napoleon's army.

Suddenly, his chair scraped against the floor as he stood, striding over to your desk with a casual air that somehow felt calculated. Without a word, he placed another milk box in front of you, his fingers lingering just a second too long.

“For you, buzz,” he said in a tone so low and smooth it sent an involuntary shiver down your spine. The playful nickname rolled off his tongue like a private joke only he understood. But you understood it. Your eyes flicked up to meet his for the briefest moment, but his intense gaze pinned you down. You dropped your eyes immediately, lips parting to say something—anything—but no words came out.

Shidou tilted his head slightly, a curious, almost amused expression crossing his face. He looked as though he were inspecting you, searching for some hidden detail, his sharp pink eyes narrowing slightly. “Hmm… You didn’t even finish the last one I gave you.”

His voice carried a subtle edge, teasing but not quite annoyed.

You fidget under his scrutiny, the weight of his presence making your pulse race. “You can take them back if you want…” you mumbled, trying to sound indifferent but knowing you failed miserably.

“But they’re all for you”

“Why?” you blurted out, immediately wishing you hadn’t.

“Figure it out.” His smirk was maddeningly cryptic, his tone a playful challenge as he pushed himself upright and returned to his seat.

Just then, the teacher walked in, silencing the chatter in the room. Her gaze zeroed in on Shidou immediately, sharp and accusing. “You’re not late anymore, Shidou,” she remarked, her voice tinged with exasperation.

“Really?” Shidou mumbled, the sarcastic bite in his words sparking quiet laughter across the room.

The teacher huffed, clearly deciding it wasn’t worth the battle, and began her lecture instead. You let out a quiet breath of relief, thankful for the distraction. But just as you started to focus on the lesson, you caught it—a subtle movement in the corner of your vision.

Shidou’s head turned ever so slightly, his eyes flicking back to you with a look that sent your heart into what you could call terror. Or maybe it’s just your mind filled with curiosity, or both because why now, is he just happening to talk to someone like you?

Thanks to the bright skies, the bell’s lousy ring signals the start of lunch. You couldn’t handle another lecture—your brain already fried from endless notes and scribbles. Rushing over to Lui, you clutch the small bento you had prepared last night, packed with enough to share—a friendly thought meant just for her. The moment she spots it, her eyes sparkle like diamonds, reflecting every bit of excitement at the neatly arranged meal in your hands.

Settling into a secluded spot in the cafeteria, both of your stomachs rumble in anticipation, practically begging for food. Just as you’re about to dig in, you can’t help but notice a lingering gaze fixed right on you…

“I really think he might like you” Lui began “I mean he’s been trying to talk to you ever since you switched seats with him”

“Following me and giving me milk boxes is oddly unusual though, put a letter in my locker or something..” You sigh heavily, chewing away your thoughts with the food placed in front of you. Shoving you hand in your bag, you felt the string on your heart drop as you couldn’t feel a single inch of your water bottle anywhere. You took a look inside and it was gone! Disappeared, no where, at least not in your bag.

“Did you forget something?” Lui’s stuffed squirrel cheeks jiggle as she spoke

“I just…forgot my water bottle-” A sudden thud lifts up your shoulders up in surprise, a simple milk box extended out for you, your third one now. Slowly, inching up your eyes, and to your surprise the shadow looming over you is none other than Shidou Ryusei, again. “Now you have three—unless you secretly drank one or two?” he smirks

“I didn’t” you reply swiftly, “Why are you following me?”

“So bold and straightforward. I like it” He began “What, am I not allowed to?”

“That doesn’t answer my question”

“Dunno, something about you just gets my cells all excited, buzz.” There he goes with that name again; you and Lui exchange a look of mutual disbelief, a questionable form of words which you wouldn’t dear to imagine. What kind of reasoning was that? “Look Shidou I don’t really know what you’re trying to do but-”

“I want to be friends with you” Without hesitation, he tucks his feet under the table and sits in front of you.

“Uh- friends?” Lui shoots you a confused glance.

“Why didn’t you say that from the beginning”

“Well I just said it” his shoulder lumps up as a shrug, “and I’d like if you could call me Ryusei”

“Shidou…”

“Ryusei.”

“Uhm- yes Ryusei… I”

““Yep. Oh, that looks good—can I have some?” He effortlessly shifts the conversation, already eyeing your freshly packed bento of food. “What-” His fingers already made it’s move before you could even answer, not that you knew what to say in the first place; acting as if you two were already friends, “Do you notice anything different?” and he’s so random “No- I don’t think so?” Staring down at his tan features, you couldn’t partially notice anything ‘different’ “Your hair?” You take a guess “That hurts me a lot buzz, I touched up my makeup real well jus’ for you” The pouty lips, droopy eyes eat you away, what a baby

“O-oh your eyeliner yes- it seems more defined. Right Lui?” She kicks your feet, nudging you as payback for bringing her more into this situation “Uh-huh, sure, totally noticed that before he mentioned it.”

“Bingo” Shidou shoots you a wink, and to his fortune you accepted the multiple milk boxes he gifted you. What’s the worth if you never try? You take the milk placed beyond you and poke the straw into the hole, gracefully grazing your soft lips onto the tip and sip. Clearing up the desert dryness in your throat.

Outrageous really, returning after lunch—this was never the situation you thought you would ever be in. At first you thought his presence would annoy you entirely but walking back to class; side by side with him, didn’t really bother you much. Lui had left you two to be alone, excusing herself because she had some work to do with the festival. Hopefully this would be a good chance to talk about what being friends is like with Shidou.

“Shi- Ryusei, why exactly do you want to be friends with me?” Your footsteps are the only two heard while walking down the hall back the class

“You’re pretty cell exploding” (You’re pretty (and) cool)

“Oh, thanks I guess.” Now is your chance! Run away from the inevitable Shidou Ryusei before he keeps you with his claws. Or maybe that's what any other person would think of in this moment, he was quite extraordinary—yes, not weird, but extremely extraordinary in your head. Despite the somewhat weird comments thrown at you.

“Did you even have lunch? I didn’t see you eating much”

“I had a bite of your food,” You tilt your head in confusion; was that all he really ate? “Quite tasty,” he comments, ever so casual and smooth. Little did he know, it may or may have not just made your heart giggle with a wide ear to ear smile, with colorful so butterflies and daisy fresh flowers, exploding in your heart just by the sheer compliment, beside Lui, no has ever complicated your marvelous cooking. But in reality, you kept a rather straight face, and a slight red blush on the tip of your ears, something that Shidou took quick notice of and said nothing but a subtle chuckle.

“I’m…glad you liked it.” Is that really all you can say? Oh you wanted to say more, maybe even offer him an everyday lunch so he’s healthy and full. Wished for a star to grant more than a miracle can strive for.

“Mhm, hey think you can hook me up with some more of your food?” Or maybe you don’t need a wish, or a miracle, maybe you just needed Ryusei.

“You’d want that?”

“Who wouldn’t?”

As you two walk into back to class, your classmates and their spirts as hopeful as this spring festival was a wavering welcome. The class president, who took great notice of your late attendance and immediately opened his mouth to lecture you two. Your ears could bleed any moment, “Shidou, I expected you to be late but not you, Y/n” He extended out the syllabus of your name like a warning ringing in your ear. “Sorry I-”

“Blah, blah, blah. So what?” Shidou cuts in, unbothered as ever. “We’re the ones who’ll be doing most of the work anyway.”

The class president narrows his eyes. “And exactly what work would that be?”

“Uh, the baking, obviously.”

“Ahem… right.” With a sigh, he turns to you instead. “Y/N, could you put together a menu of what you’ll be baking? We have other classmates working on the design and setup.”

“Of course, I can start on it now.”

As you sit down, Shidou follows along like a dog on a leash, sitting in front of you. “wha’cha thinking of making?”

“Lui really liked my red velvet with white chocolate chips cookies, so that’s one. And…a blueberry tart, some cake of course with a hint of my own recipe and design.” You could yap forever about the recipes you made and would love to try. Make the jaws yawn till they couldn’t keep their eyes open anymore. “Do you know how to make cream puffs?” Shidou fiddles with one your pencils, “They’re pretty easy yeah…you like them?” The spinning pencil between his hands stops and he locks eye contacts with you “Would you make them for me pretty please?” He leans in closer to you, nose touching, tickling, shivering against each other. He’s begging for a little more, inching for even a kiss on your soft cheeks but he didn’t want to make you anymore the shy gal you are so he left his intimacy at that. For now.

Despite the sudden closeness, you don’t flinch. His eyes darken, black pupils expanding, dilating, his amorous gaze lingering on your lips before flicking back up. You swear you hear his breath hitch, just slightly.

“And some yukhoe too please, my favorite.” He began to fiddle with your pencil once more, backing away from you—the lead lightly tracing on the surface of his sketchbook

“I suppose if you like it that much but doesn’t it seem a bit…weird for the festival”

“Just make them for me, and me alone”

“Isn’t it…raw?”

“Raw is always better, don’t cha’ think so?”

You sigh at his utter mindset, nonetheless would it ever bother you though. You made a new friend.

.

.

.

next chap

[etherealhannie]

( oneshot ) ،، lipstick stamp ،، ⌇ 승철

pairing .ᐟ nerdy!seungcheol × mean!fem!reader genre .ᐟ college au , crush word count .ᐟ 0.7k song rec. .ᐟ fall in love alone - stacey ryan

click clack click clack

the sound of clacking heels fills up the bustling hall, as the red chunky heels steps on the marble floor, leaving trace of her present. it belongs to nobody other than her, the infamous chwe y/n.

with her sharp tongue and sharper intellect, she ruled the academic scene. professors admired her brilliance, but peers tread carefully around her acid wit. beneath her icy exterior, a butterfly lives in her snowy garden.

a guy named choi seungcheol has been her main attention. he was everything she wasn't. a quiet, introverted and intensely focused, he excelled in his studies with a passion that burns the desire in y/n to have him. his faded-orange hair, thick glasses, good baggy fashion sense and habit of pouting his lips when scrabbling in his ever-present notebook only added to his nerdy charm.

or when he rests himself on a tree, closing his eyes and listening to music with wired earphones, as wind gently messes his soft hair. only God knows how heaven he looks in your eyes.

you halt your steps when you reach the study booth, where he likes to spend his time. a grins stamps on your lips, as you confidently walked up to him with a cherry flavored lollipop in your mouth. as the distance gets nearer and nearer, you can actually feel the nervousness take over. damn y/n, just do it!

once you're actually in front of the table he studied, you knock on it as he's too focused on his notebook, unaware of the surroundings. as he started to move his head from the book, to your white lacy tights and up to your face.

the urge to not kiss him when his pouty lips and his doe eyes looking straight into your orbs. Lord, have mercy on me. his thick eyebrows frown, puzzled by your presence.

“yes?”

that one word almost makes you squeal like a giddy girl. you keep your posture straight and cross your arms with the lollipop in your hands. you lean your side on the wall.

“i need your notes from our previous lecture.” you declared, though it was more an order than a request.

“why?” he asked, genuinely puzzled. “you didn't miss a lecture today.”

“just give them to me.” you snapped, rolling your eyes.

with a sigh, seungcheol handed his notebook that he reads previously. as you took it, his fingers brushed briefly against yours, sending a jolt through you. you turned your heel and marched away, leaving a confused seungcheol staring after you.

later that evening, you sat in your dorm room, seungcheol’s notebook open on her desk. you couldn't help but admire his meticulous handwriting and detailed notes. it was then that you noticed a small, doodled heart in the corner of one page, next to a formula that we had discussed in class. the sight made her smile.

mom, your daughter is really in love right now. you close the notebook and laid on your bed, still smiling like crazy.

gosh , what a man you are, choi.

the next day, you returned the notebook. you found seungcheol in his second favorite spot, library, buried in a stack of books. without a word, you dropped it on the table infront of him. he looked up, surprised to see her.

“thanks,” he said awkwardly.

you nodded and turned to leave, but then paused. a sly smirk pasted on your lips as your hands rummaged through your bag and pulled a tube of bright red lipstick. seungcheol watched, bewildered, as you applied it with practiced precision. before he could say anything, you leaned over and pressed your lips firmly on against the cover of his notebook, leaving a bold, red imprint.

“there,” you said, as your voice sounds softer than usual. “a little trace of mine”

seungcheol stared at the notebook, then at her, his cheeks flushing a deep crimson. “why… why did you do that?” he stammered.

you shrugged, a small smile playing on your lips. “maybe i wanted to leave my mark on what's about to be mine. see you around, cheollie.”

as you walked away, seungcheol was still processing what just happened. the nickname, and the red lips mark on his notebook. he touched the lipstick mark, a smile creep on his face. for the first time, he saw beyond y/n’s harsh exterior to the complex, intriguing person beneath. what have gotten into you, choi seungcheol.

[eiralunaire]

The murmur of the city barely filtered into the room. The dim light of a lamp illuminated the place, casting soft shadows on the walls. Sitting on the floor, legs crossed and back straight, Damian Wayne tried to keep his expression serious, although a slight tug on his hair made him frown from time to time.

“I didn’t know you could be so close to an explosion without ending up burned,” Reader commented, as her agile fingers moved through her dark hair, dividing it into small sections to make a braid.

Damian snorted, but didn’t answer immediately. He had learned that when Reader started to tell him something, it was better to let her finish before interrupting her. Besides, if he said something reckless, he ran the risk of her leaving her hairstyle half done, and although she wouldn’t admit it out loud, she liked braids more than she should.

“Sure, my powers help, but it was… intense.” “It was like time froze for a second,” she continued, as she adjusted one of the braids and moved on to the next. Her voice had that relaxed tone she used when talking about something that could have killed her, as if it were a walk in the park.

Damian tilted his head slightly, letting her work while his green eyes rested on their reflection in the mirror in front of them. Reader was sitting on the mattress behind him, focused, her face lit by the same calm she used to face life-or-death situations.

“And then what did you do?” he finally asked, with a tone that tried not to seem too interested. Despite everything, he always wanted to know every detail of her missions, even if it meant hearing how she had almost gotten into more trouble than he could handle.

“Oh, nothing out of the ordinary,” she said with an amused smile. “I just deflected the shockwave with a shield and ran like there was no tomorrow. Although, I admit, I ended up falling off a roof.” That was... kind of awkward.

Damian closed his eyes for a moment, suppressing a sigh. He had learned not to lecture her about the importance of being more careful. Reader was like the wind: unpredictable, free, and always moving forward. The best he could do was stay close to protect her when necessary.

“Should I be worried about how calm you sound about it?” he murmured, unable to help a slight smile. He knew she would notice his mocking tone.

“Maybe. But I survived, didn’t I?” she replied, laughing softly as she finished the last braid and lightly patted his head. “There. You look like a Viking warrior.”

Damian opened his eyes and looked at his reflection in the mirror. The small braids blended into his hair, giving him a curious look that, to his surprise, he didn’t hate. He turned his head to Reader, who was looking at him with a wide smile, her dimples peeking out charmingly.

“A Viking warrior?” she repeated in disbelief, arching an eyebrow.

"Yes, a very handsome warrior "she replied, laughing as she slid over and settled beside him, letting her head fall on his shoulder. "But a little grumpy, as usual."

Damian couldn't help but smile slightly, letting his head rest against hers. It wasn't the kind of moment he imagined for himself, but he couldn't deny that it was... perfect.

Part Two

[marsplastic13]

'Complicated' (part 14) - Kaz Brekker x Reader

Idea - Kaz Brekker hires a prostitute to overcome his touch aversion, and be a better man for Inej, but things take an unxepected turn.

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Prostitute!Reader, (had to use y/n because I'm bad at names)

Genre: modern AU, slow burn

word count: 5.8k

notes: let me know what you think!

@millercontracting @coldmermaidhologram @syd649

@luffysprincess @cryptidghostgirl @beekeepingageissome

@hufflepuff-16 @lukepattersin @jay-is-a-pinguin

For the next few days, Kaz and Y/N let themselves get lost in the simple pleasures of their trip. But the looming task of preparing Y/N to lie to the police hung over them like a shadow. Kaz knew it was time to shift gears.

Sitting on the couch, Y/N watched as Kaz paced back and forth, his mind clearly in strategy mode. He looked like a professor preparing to teach a critical lesson, his sharp eyes focused on the details only he could see. 

Kaz finally stopped pacing and looked at her, his voice calm but firm. “They won’t accuse you of anything, but they’ll want to talk to you. Your ex was abusive, there’s a record of it. You went to the police and the hospital because of him multiple times. Now that he’s taken his own life, they’ll be interested in whether you had any contact, if he was still stalking you, or if you noticed any signs of what he was going to do.”

Y/N shifted uncomfortably on the couch, the gravity of the situation sinking in. “Okay, what should I say?” she asked, her eyes searching his for guidance.

Kaz stood in front of her, his posture confident, like a teacher about to deliver an important lecture. “Tell the truth until the day of my birthday. After that, stick to the story we discussed.”

Y/N sighed, gathering her thoughts. “So, I was getting ready to go to my…” she hesitated, feeling the weight of the words. Kaz raised his brows, urging her to continue. “...my boyfriend’s birthday party, but when he picked me up, we went to the airport instead of the restaurant.”

Kaz couldn’t help the smirk that played on his lips. “And who’s your boyfriend, miss?” he asked, teasingly.

Y/N rolled her eyes annoyed. “Kaz Brekker,” she replied, clearly unamused by how much he was enjoying this. “How much are you liking this? Why can’t we just say we’re friends?”

Kaz leaned back, his expression serious now. “Because it’s less suspicious. Why would a friend just surprise you with a trip abroad?”

Y/N shot him a look. “I don’t know, why would a friend kill someone for you?”

Kaz’s eyes narrowed slightly, his tone more intense. “Remember, no unnecessary details. If they talk to you again, you have to be able to say the same things, no doubts, no hesitation.”

She nodded, mentally going over the details again, trying to make the story her own.

Kaz leaned forward, his eyes locking with hers as he asked, “Why didn’t you come back for the funeral?”

Y/N took a deep breath, knowing this was a tricky one. “Well, as I’ve repeatedly told the police, he was very abusive. So, yeah, I’m shocked by what he did, but it wasn’t my place to be there. We broke up a long time ago.”

Kaz’s eyes scanned her face, reading her every expression. “Hm, we’ll work on that,” he muttered, before sitting down beside her on the couch. Y/N immediately rested her head on his legs, seeking comfort in his presence.

For a moment, the seriousness of their situation hung in the air, but Y/N couldn’t help but ask, her voice tinged with worry, “Are we going to be fine?”

Kaz’s expression softened, a rare smile curving his lips as he brushed a strand of hair from her face. “Of course. Our story is solid. We just need to stick to it.”

He felt her relax a little against him, but he could still sense her anxiety as his hand moved gently through her hair.

“Do you want to take a bath with me? That bathtub looks insanely big,” Y/n suggested, with a smirk.

Kaz had overcome the majority of his issues, but mixing bodies and water seemed like a recipe for a disaster, even if the idea was really tempting. “I don't think I would be able to do it without having a bad panic attack, maybe another time,” he said gently, his voice betraying a hint of regret.

Y/n nodded, understanding. “Can you keep me company?”

They both went to the bathroom, and Kaz studied her intently as she began to undress. The sight of her bare skin always captivated him, but he was careful not to let his gaze linger too long. “Your side looks better,” he observed, noting the fading bruise on her rib.

“Right?” she said, glancing at herself in the mirror. “It feels better too. Maybe he lost his touch,” she joked harshly.

Kaz watched as she immersed herself into the hot water, swearing silently that he would definitely work on solving his problem with water. The steam rose around her, and she hummed in satisfaction, closing her eyes. “Are you sure you don't want to jump in?” she asked, her voice soft and inviting.

“Trust me, if I could, I wouldn't hesitate,” he replied, the longing clear in his tone.

She smiled, eyes still closed. “Do you want to try holding my hand?”

Kaz considered it for a moment, the thought both tempting and terrifying. “Maybe we'll work on that when we get back,” he decided, his voice firm yet gentle.

“Your call, baby. Can you get my vape?”

Kaz nodded and came back with her vape and a bottle of wine, feeling a surge of satisfaction when he saw her eyes light up. He poured her a glass and brought the vape to her lips, letting her take a deep drag.

“You're spoiling me,” she laughed, the sound like music to his ears.

Kaz made a crooked smile, “Told you I would,” he said before taking a few drags himself, settling on the stool next to her.

“We're not dating,” she said, her tone teasing but with an edge of seriousness.

“I know,” he replied, meeting her gaze.

“We never will,” she continued, testing him.

“Alright,” he agreed, his voice steady.

They locked eyes as he brought the vape back to her lips. The intimacy of the moment hung between them, unspoken but palpable. 

“You know, my side is still sore,” Y/n said after a while, her voice low and seductive, “but my mouth...” She licked her lips suggestively, her eyes locked onto his.

Kaz shook his head, feeling a mix of excitement and unease. “The idea feels weird.”

“Why?” she asked, her brow furrowing slightly.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, avoiding her gaze. “Do you really like it that much?”

“Seeing grown men squirm and twist under me? Absolutely,” she replied with a smirk, rising from the water and splashing him playfully with her hand.

Kaz chuckled, grabbing a towel and passing it to her. “We should start thinking about going back home.”

“We should,” she whispered, her tone softening as she wrapped the towel around herself.

They settled into bed, the effects of drinking on an empty stomach making them both feel pleasantly lightheaded. Their slow kisses deepened, hands roaming each other’s bodies with a blend of tenderness and urgency.

“Kaz, I want you,” Y/n murmured, her voice breathy with desire.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said against her lips, his concern evident in his tone.

“I don’t care,” she moaned, pulling him closer. “I’ll be fine, I swear.”

“You’re injured,” he reminded her, his hands resting gently on her hips, his concern evident in his eyes.

“I’m sure you’ll be very careful,” she whispered, her fingers threading through his hair as she guided him closer. “Please, I’ll stay on top.”

Kaz hesitated for a moment, his mind racing with the fear of causing her pain. But the look in her eyes, the way she was holding him, reassured him. He kissed her deeply, their breaths mingling as they moved together, slow and careful.

He was hyper-aware of her every reaction, his hands gliding over her body with a delicate touch. Y/n’s soft gasps and moans encouraged him, her fingers digging into his back as she pulled him closer. He could feel her body responding to him, her movements gentle but insistent. Y/n was naked under the towel, while Kaz remained half clothed. The urgency of having him without even giving the time to undress made him feel desired in a way he never thought could be possible. 

She slowly slid on him, moving without giving herself time to adjust. He held his breath, every fiber of his being focused on her. Her warmth enveloped him, and he felt a surge of raw, primal satisfaction.

“You really don’t like foreplay,” he commented, trying to mask his awe with a teasing tone.

“You noticed?” she laughed, biting his earlobe lightly, sending a shiver down his spine.

Kaz smirked, but his worry never fully dissipated. “Does it hurt?” he whispered, his voice barely audible as he paused to look into her eyes, searching for any sign of discomfort.

She shook her head, her lips curving into a reassuring smile. “Enough to keep things interesting.”

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “I should’ve expected that,” he murmured, his hands sliding up her sides, feeling the soft curve of her waist beneath his fingers. 

Kaz's movements were slow and deliberate, each thrust measured to ensure her comfort. The towel slipped away, leaving her completely exposed beneath him, her skin flushed and glistening in the soft light. 

Y/n’s nails raked gently down his back, his hips rising to meet her rhythm. His body responded eagerly, matching her every move. The heat between them built steadily, their breaths mingling in the intimate space they shared. The urgency and rawness of their connection made every moment electric, every sensation magnified.

Kaz felt a mixture of emotions. The desire to protect her clashed with his primal need to be close to her. He marveled at her strength, the way she embraced the pain and turned it into pleasure. 

“You're so good, love,” she whispered into his mouth, her words sending a shiver down his spine.

“Yeah?” he responded, a hint of vulnerability creeping into his voice. He wanted to believe her, but doubt lingered.

Kaz knew that she was used to doing pretty heavy stuff. He wasn't sure if she was restraining herself with him because she thought he couldn’t keep up, or if she was giving him time to understand how he liked it. The uncertainty pressed heavily on him, making him question his every move.

“Of course, baby,” she said, cupping his face and kissing him gently. Her touch was both tender and reassuring.

“Are you sure?” he asked between heavy breaths, needing her validation more than he cared to admit.

“You're perfect,” she murmured, her voice filled with genuine affection. Her praise reassured him a bit, but he couldn’t shake the underlying sense of inadequacy. He wanted to be everything she needed, to meet her every expectation.

As their bodies moved together, Kaz focused on her reactions, seeking to please her in every way he could. Her soft gasps and moans guided him, each sound a small victory that bolstered his confidence. He traced the curve of her spine with his fingers, feeling the slight tremor that ran through her at his touch.

Her hips moved in a steady rhythm, her eyes locked onto his. There was something in her gaze that made his heart race, desire and something deeper, something he couldn’t quite name. He leaned in, capturing her lips in a kiss that was both passionate and tender.

“You’re amazing,” she whispered against his mouth, her breath hot and urgent. “Don’t doubt yourself.”

Kaz swallowed hard, her words sinking in. He wanted to believe her, to let go of his insecurities. He deepened the kiss, pouring all his feelings into it. The way she responded, her body arching towards his, made him feel more confident.

“It’s so good,” she murmured, her voice a soothing balm to his troubled mind.

Her words filled the empty spaces in his heart, giving him a sense of purpose. But a voice in his head kept saying that she was lying, that there was no way she could enjoy that. His mind raced thinking about the screams that her clients made her do, the things he heard her say and ask for while staying outside her room.

She never screamed for him.

“Y/n, wait, I can't—” he said, stopping her hips, feeling a wave of guilt wash over him.

“Is everything okay?” she asked, scanning his face with concern.

“Are you sure that you like having sex with me?” he blurted out, his voice filled with insecurity.

Y/n frowned, clearly taken aback. “What? Of course, Kaz. Why are you asking me that?”

He sighed, feeling the embarrassment burning on his cheeks. “You’re used to all this crazy stuff, and I... I have zero experience.”

“So?” she replied, her tone gentle but firm.

“Are you sure you’re not bored?” he asked, the question hanging heavy in the air.

“Did I sound bored?” she asked, raising an eyebrow, her voice carrying both surprise and hurt.

“Well, no, but—” he started, but she cut him off.

“Kaz, oh my god, I’m not faking it. I never would,” she said, her eyes wide with genuine concern. 

Kaz looked into her eyes, searching for any hint of deception, but all he saw was sincerity. He wanted to believe her, but the nagging voice in his head wouldn’t quiet down. He swallowed hard, trying to find the right words.

“I’ve heard you with your clients, the things you say, the way you sound,” he admitted, his voice barely a whisper. “I can’t help but compare. Rationally, I know, it's stupid, but-” he admitted, feeling the weight of his insecurities.

Y/n’s expression softened as she cupped his face in her hands. “Needing reassurance is not stupid, love. I imagine this could be a bit weird sometimes.”

“It is,” he conceded, his voice tinged with vulnerability.

Y/n moved to lay on the bed, gently guiding his head to rest on her stomach. Her fingers combed through his hair soothingly, and he felt a sense of calm wash over him.

“Kaz, I would never fake it, I really like having sex with you. It's completely different from being with a client,” she said softly.

“Yeah?” he asked, his fingers tracing idle patterns on her navel.

“Of course. I mean, the mechanics are the same, but emotionally speaking, it's completely different.”

“And why is that?” he probed, seeking more reassurance.

Y/n sighed, her hand continuing to stroke his hair. “Because we care about each other.”

“I care a lot about you,” he whispered, his voice heavy with emotion.

“I know, I can see that,” she replied, her voice full of warmth.

“Are you in love with me?” he blurted out, immediately cursing himself for asking such a loaded question.

“Kaz, don’t put me in this situation,” she sighed, closing her eyes as if trying to shut out the weight of the question.

“I want to know, Y/n. You said it to me,” he pressed, his heart pounding.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she said, her voice tinged with frustration.

“Why?” he asked, his curiosity and need for clarity pushing him forward.

“I don’t like my answer,” she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper.

Kaz hummed thoughtfully, his eyes studying her face. He moved his hand to tangle it with hers, and she held him, a small smile playing on her lips without opening her eyes.

***

Packing to go back home was more chaotic than they had expected. Kaz was darting around the house, retrieving his scattered belongings, while Y/n stood amidst a mountain of clothes and souvenirs.

“I can't believe you're so messy,” Y/n commented, watching him with an amused expression.

“I'm not messy,” Kaz retorted, his tone defensive. “I'm just having a hard time remembering where I left my things. Are you done?”

Y/n glanced at the array of items around her, shaking her head. “I think I need another suitcase.”

Kaz paused, surveying the chaos. “Maybe we shouldn't move in together,” he quipped with a smirk.

“Pity, I was accepting the idea,” she replied sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

“Are you sure you can't put some things in my luggage?” he asked, trying to help her manage the clutter.

“I already did,” she laughed, leaning in to kiss his jaw.

Kaz sighed, trying to formulate a plan to fit all of her stuff into some suitcase they might have to buy. He had to check again for half of his stuff, all in time to not miss their flight, and oh, she was kissing him. “Y/n, let me think for a second.”

She hummed against his neck, her lips sending shivers down his spine.

“Y/n, come on,” he chuckled, trying to focus despite the distraction.

She laughed at his reaction, stepping back to give him some space. “Alright, alright. I'll finish packing.”

Kaz watched her for a moment, a fond smile on his lips. He couldn’t help but admire her as she deftly folded clothes and organized her things. The way she moved, even in the midst of chaos, had a certain grace to it that captivated him.

He shook his head, snapping back to reality. He needed to find his missing items. With renewed determination, Kaz began methodically searching the apartment, checking under beds, behind curtains, and in drawers.

***

When Kaz's car stopped in his parking spot, he still couldn't believe they had managed to catch their flight on time. As he expected, the police were waiting at the airport, and Y/n had been impressive in dealing with them. His arm never left her waist as she talked about the romantic surprise trip he had planned. The officers left, mentioning they might need to talk to her again, but it seemed more procedural than anything serious.

Y/n turned to him, leaning back in the car seat. “Are you sure you still want me around? We've been together for a week.”

Kaz shrugged as he got out. “What's one more night?”

They stumbled into his apartment in a flurry of suitcases, hands, and kisses. The moment felt electric until a voice cut through the air.

“Kaz.”

He froze, looking up. Nina and Matthias were seated on his couch, Nina glaring daggers at him.

“How many people have your keys?” Y/n asked through clenched teeth.

“I swear I'll change the lock,” he sighed, addressing Nina. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, you know, just checking on you,” Nina replied, getting to her feet and crossing her arms.

“Hi, I'm—” Y/n began.

“Oh, I know who you are,” Nina interrupted coldly. “I had a lovely chat with Inej.”

“Of course you did,” Y/n whispered, her eyes narrowing.

“Nina,” Kaz said, his patience wearing thin.

“Sorry, Kaz, if we waited for you at your birthday party for hours and then my best friend comes back crying, desperate, saying that you broke up with her and fled the country with another girl. You're lucky I didn't come all the way to where you went to kick your ass,” Nina spat, her eyes blazing with anger.

Kaz rolled his eyes, though he knew she had a point. “Nina, what happened is between me and Inej.”

“I feel pretty involved when you hurt my friend,” Nina's voice was sharp, her hands clenched into fists at her sides.

“We just came back. Can you spare the scolding for another time?” Kaz pleaded, trying to maintain his composure.

“No,” Nina snapped, stepping closer, her gaze never leaving his. “You don't get to just run away from the mess you made.”

“Nina, it’s not that simple,” Kaz began, but she cut him off.

“It is that simple,” she retorted. “You broke her heart, Kaz. Do you even care?”

“Of course I care,” Kaz shot back, his frustration mounting. “But I can’t change what happened.”

“Convenient,” Nina scoffed, crossing her arms. “And now you’re just moving on, pretending like nothing happened?”

“I’m not pretending,” Kaz said through gritted teeth. “Inej and I were over long before this trip.”

Nina's eyes narrowed. “That’s not how she sees it.”

Y/n, who had been standing quietly beside Kaz, sighed heavily. 

Nina turned her fiery gaze on Y/n. “And you. How could you do this? You knew he was in a relationship.”

“I really didn't do anything,” Y/n let out a nervous laugh, her eyes darting to Kaz for support.

“Anything? He was in a relationship. You should have backed down,” Nina accused, her voice rising.

“Are you blaming me?” Y/n scoffed, her own anger bubbling to the surface. “You think I’m the one responsible for their breakup?”

“Yes, you should’ve had some respect,” Nina snapped. “You knew he was with Inej, but you went ahead anyway.”

Y/n’s eyes narrowed, her temper flaring. “It wasn’t like that. You don’t know the whole story.”

Nina took a step closer, her fists clenched. “Enlighten me then. Because from where I stand, you’re the one who swooped in and ruined everything.”

“Nina, leave her out of this,” Kaz's arm slid protectively around Y/n’s waist, and the gesture didn’t go unnoticed by Nina and Matthias.

Nina’s eyes widened with disbelief and anger. “You’re defending her? After everything?”

Kaz tightened his grip on Y/n, his gaze steady on Nina. “Yes, I am. Because this isn’t her fault.”

Nina scoffed, crossing her arms. “How can you say that? She knew you were with Inej.”

Kaz sighed, his expression weary but resolute. “You have no idea of how things went.”

“That doesn’t justify what you did,” Nina shot back, her voice trembling with emotion.

“I know it doesn’t,” Kaz admitted, his voice softening. “And I’ll live with that guilt. But Y/n didn’t do anything wrong. She didn’t ‘swoop in.’”

Nina’s anger faltered for a moment, but she quickly regained her composure. “And what about Inej? How do you think she feels?”

“Inej deserves someone who can love her fully,” Kaz said, his voice heavy with regret. “I couldn’t be that person. And I’m sorry for that. But blaming Y/n won’t fix anything.”

Y/n looked at Kaz with a small smile. He turned to her, his expression tender. “You don’t have to justify yourself to anyone, least of all to Nina.”

“So you want us to believe that this,” Nina gestured between them, “is serious?”

Kaz hesitated, but y/n passed her arm around his waist, leaning more into him, “Yeah, we're thinking about moving in together.”

Nina’s eyes widened, her mouth opening and closing as she struggled to process the information. “Really?”

“Yes,” he said firmly. Kaz was taken aback by her quick response, feeling a surge of gratitude toward her. Internally, he thanked her for her quick thinking, knowing that this lie might help diffuse Nina’s anger. He couldn't help but marvel at how effortlessly Y/n had stepped into the role of his defender and partner.

Matthias raised an eyebrow, his usually stoic expression showing a hint of surprise. “That’s... a big step.”

“Yes,” Kaz repeated, finding his voice. “It is.”

Nina shook her head, still in shock. “I can’t believe this. You broke up with Inej a week ago Kaz.”

Kaz felt a pang of guilt but steeled himself. “Things change, Nina. What happened with Inej was inevitable. We both knew it.”

Nina's eyes narrowed. “A week ago, Kaz. A week. And now you’re moving in with someone else?”

“That’s none of your business,” Kaz retorted, his tone sharp.

Silence fell in the room, heavy and tense.

“Inej asked me to take her stuff,” Nina said after a long pause, her tone softer but still strained.

Kaz sighed heavily, feeling the weight of Nina's disappointment and his own guilt pressing down on him. “Yeah, I'll show you,” he said quietly, turning to Y/n with a gentle expression. “Are you okay, love?”

“Yeah, go, don't worry,” Y/n replied with a small smile, squeezing his hand reassuringly. “Unless Nina is scared of leaving her boyfriend alone with me.”

Nina’s eyes narrowed at Y/n’s teasing remark. “Oh, my boyfriend certainly doesn’t go for cheap ones like you.”

Y/n raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk playing on her lips as she looked for her vape in Kaz’s pocket “You’d be surprised. And cheap? Really? You have no idea of how expansive I am.”

Obviously, Nina, who had no idea of what y/n job truly was, wasn’t able to thoroughly understand the joke.

Kaz interjected, hoping to diffuse the tension. “Let’s not make this any more uncomfortable than it already is.”

Y/n shot a look at Kaz, her smirk still in place. “If she can go around insulting me, I can’t see why I shouldn’t defend myself,” she replied candidly, her voice tinged with amusement.

“Please, love, let it go,” Kaz asked, sighing, his tone pleading. Y/n rolled her eyes, but Kaz could see the amusement flickering in her expression despite the tension.

Nina scoffed and turned towards Kaz’s bedroom, her footsteps echoing through the apartment as she headed to retrieve Inej’s belongings. Kaz exchanged a look with Matthias, who gave him a sympathetic nod before following Nina.

When they returned with Inej’s things, it was clear that Nina was far from letting the issue drop. She glared at Kaz, her arms crossed defiantly. “I still don’t understand how you could hook up with her with Inej’s clothes still in your wardrobe.”

Y/n, seemingly unfazed, interjected without lifting her eyes from her phone, “Do you want me to draw you a picture?”

Nina’s jaw tightened, clearly annoyed by Y/n’s nonchalant response. Kaz stepped forward, trying to diffuse the tension. “Nina, you have everything now. Let’s talk about this another time.”

Nina shot a sharp glance at Y/n before turning on her heel and storming towards the door. Matthias followed closely behind her, casting a brief look back at Kaz and Y/n, his nod a silent acknowledgment of their situation.

“Thanks for handling that,” Kaz said sincerely, a note of gratitude in his voice. “And for letting them think we’re in a serious relationship.”

Y/n looked up from her phone, a small, amused smile touching her lips. “Anytime, love,” she replied softly, her tone playful as she settled her head on his lap. “I figured it would be easier than explaining how things really are.”

Kaz chuckled softly, running his fingers gently through her hair. “You’re right. It spares us a lot of unnecessary explanations.”

They sat together in the quiet of the apartment, the tension of the evening slowly dissipating. Kaz appreciated Y/n’s willingness to play along for the sake of defusing the situation, even if it meant leaving Nina and Matthias with the impression that their relationship was more serious than it actually was. He glanced down at Y/n, now scrolling through her phone, then felt his phone buzz with a text from Jesper: ‘Talked to Nina, can I come over?’

Kaz sighed, typing back, 'Sure, Y/n is here. Use your keys.'

When Jesper arrived, Y/n was already asleep, her face buried in Kaz’s stomach while he gently played with her hair. The sight brought a small smile to Jesper’s face as he quietly took a seat across from them.

“How was the trip?” Jesper whispered, careful not to wake Y/n.

“We managed to have fun,” Kaz replied, a slight smile tugging at his lips.

“Nina said you’re moving in together,” Jesper said, his voice laced with curiosity.

“It’s not true, we just wanted her to stop scolding us,” Kaz explained, his eyes focused on Y/n’s peaceful face. “I asked her, and she said no.”

“You what?” Jesper’s eyes widened in surprise.

“She didn’t exactly say no. I think I can convince her,” Kaz murmured, a hint of determination in his voice.

“You really want this? Live together?” Jesper asked, his tone skeptical.

“Why not?” Kaz shrugged, his gaze still on Y/n.

“I don’t know, because you broke up with your girlfriend a week ago? After years?” Jesper’s voice held a note of incredulity.

“Okay, so how much should I wait?” Kaz asked sarcastically, a hint of irritation creeping into his voice. “What’s the right time, Jes? Since everyone seems to know what’s best for me.”

Jesper sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m just worried about you, Kaz. You’ve been through a lot.”

“I appreciate that, Jesper,” Kaz said softly. “But I need to figure this out on my own.”

Jesper studied his friend for a moment, seeing the sincerity in Kaz’s eyes. “If she makes you happy, then I’m all for it. Just... take it slow, okay?”

“What’s this fixation about taking things slow that everyone has?” Kaz scoffed, annoyance creeping into his voice. “I tried slow. Look how it ended. Maybe it’s time to be a bit less cautious.”

Jesper looked at him thoughtfully. “She’s changing you.”

Kaz shook his head, a small, incredulous smile playing on his lips. “She doesn’t even want a committed relationship. These are all my ideas. y/n is just bringing them out.”

Jesper raised an eyebrow, genuinely intrigued. “So, all this talk about moving in together, that’s you?”

“Yeah, that’s me,” Kaz admitted, his gaze drifting to Y/n. “I want to see where this goes. I’m tired of holding back, of second-guessing everything. With her, it feels different.”

Jesper nodded slowly, absorbing Kaz’s words. “Different how?”

Kaz took a deep breath, his eyes softening as he looked at Y/n’s sleeping form. “She doesn’t judge me. Well, she does judge me, but in a good way? I don’t know how to explain it. She doesn’t expect me to be someone I’m not. And she’s not afraid to call me out on my bullshit. She makes me feel... real.”

Jesper's eyes softened, understanding the weight of Kaz's words. "Real, huh? That’s not something you hear every day. Especially from you."

Kaz chuckled softly, his fingers continuing to play with Y/n’s hair. “I know. It’s strange. With her, I don’t feel like I have to put up a front.”

Jesper smiled, feeling a sense of relief. “That’s good, Kaz. Really good. But you know, you don’t have to rush things. Just because you feel this way doesn’t mean you have to dive headfirst into everything.”

“I get that, Jes. But I’ve spent so long being cautious, being careful. Maybe it’s time to take some risks,” Kaz said, his voice resolute. “With Inej, I was terrified of screwing up. I was always walking on eggshells, afraid she’d leave at any moment. I was so focused on not making mistakes that I lost sight of what I wanted. But with Y/n…,” he chuckled softly, a mix of amusement and frustration in his tone, “we’ve already screwed up everything we could. We fought, we made mistakes, we patched things up, and then we messed up again. And through all of it, we’re still here.”

Jesper leaned back, a thoughtful expression on his face. “So, it’s like you’ve already been through a lot, and you’re still standing?”

“Exactly,” Kaz agreed, his tone lightening. “There’s a certain freedom in knowing we’ve faced some things and come out the other side. It feels real.”

“I know,” Kaz said softly, his eyes drifting back to Y/n’s sleeping form. “She’s not what I expected, but she’s what I want.”

Suddenly, Y/n stirred and mumbled, “Can you go have this heart-to-heart conversation somewhere else? I was sleeping.”

Kaz grinned, gently brushing a strand of hair from her face. “We’ll keep it down.”

Y/n sighed, her eyes still closed. “Just... less existential crises and more cuddling, please.”

“I’ll head out,” Jesper said, standing up. “Get some rest, both of you.”

Kaz nodded. “Thanks, Jes. See you tomorrow.”

Getting back to their usual lives proved to be more challenging than either of them anticipated. Y/n had to practically beg Kaz to take her back to her own house. Even then, he only agreed on the condition that she left most of the items she bought during their trip at his place.

“Goodnight,” Jesper replied, making his way to the door and closing it quietly behind him.

***

As they stood outside her building, their farewells took on an intensity that suggested they might not see each other for years. They were pressed against his car, hands and lips exploring with an urgency like they were about to part forever.

“Sorry,” a woman’s voice cut through their heated embrace. Y/n and Kaz looked up to find a middle-aged woman staring at them with a mixture of disdain and curiosity.

“Yeah?” Y/n asked, puzzled as she pulled away slightly, still wrapped in Kaz’s arms.

“Are you one of the girls that live on the third floor?” The woman’s tone was sharp, her eyes narrowed.

“Yes,” Y/n replied, her brow furrowing.

The woman’s expression hardened. “The noise from your apartment is unbearable. Is it true? Do you have sex for money? Are you really prostitutes?”

Y/n’s eyes widened in surprise, but she quickly regained her composure. “What?” she asked, incredulity lacing her voice.

“You heard me,” the woman said, her finger now pointing accusingly. “Is it true?”

Y/n raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a smirk. “Do you want to book an appointment?”

The woman’s face reddened in shock. “No!”

“Then no, it’s not true,” Y/n said, her tone dripping with amusement and defiance. The woman muttered something under her breath and walked away, shaking her head and casting dark looks back at them.

Y/n sighed heavily, her shoulders drooping. “I guess we’re changing apartments sooner than we thought.”

Kaz, ever quick to seize an opportunity, leaned in closer. “You know…”

Y/n cut him off with a heavy sigh. “I would still need a place to work, Kaz.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Or…”

Y/n crossed her arms defensively. “You know I can’t even begin to consider doing this”—she gestured between them—“if you don’t accept my job.”

Kaz rolled his eyes, but a hint of a smile tugged at his lips despite the tension. “That’s not a no,” he said, his tone light yet thoughtful, clearly enjoying the banter.

Y/n shook her head, a small, amused smile playing on her lips despite the uncomfortable situation. “Don’t get any ideas,” she said, her voice carrying both warning and fondness.

Kaz chuckled softly, the sound warm and genuine. His eyes sparkled with a combination of affection and mischief as he leaned closer. “Oh, I’m sure that tormenting you is going to work,” he said, his voice low and teasing.

Y/n arched an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by his persistence. “And how do you figure that?”

Kaz’s eyes softened, the playful glint in them turning more tender. “I can be very determined, and very annoying.”

Y/n met his gaze, with a smile, “And I can be very patient.” she said before kissing his cheek and entering the building.

[reina-tries-2-write]

The Space Between Sounds

Chapter 3: Echoes of Frustration

SYNOPSIS: Your first week at Tokyo Jujutsu Tech isn't going how you imagined it would. You are struggling to keep up with your classmates and understand what anyone is trying to teach you. What are you going to do?

WC: 2K

PREV - MASTERLIST - NEXT

You had breakfast by yourself today but ran into Tired Guy in the hallway on your way to the classroom. He gave you a smile and a wave before gesturing for you to walk with him. He didn’t say anything to you the whole time, but his quiet company was nice.

You figured he was just being polite out of pity, like all the other strangers who were nice to you.

Blond Guy caught up with the two of you in the hallway and you all walked into the classroom together.

The girl and panda are already there when you arrive and you see three empty desks between them.

Blond Guy automatically walks over to the one right next to Panda and the two begin chatting. You look over at Tired Guy, not wanting to take the spot he usually sits in, but he smiles and gestures for you to pick. Hesitantly sitting down in the middle desk, you flash him a look that asks if it’s okay that you’re sitting where you are. He replies with a wide smile to reassure you it is, and you relax into the wooden chair.

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

I ended up sat next to Y/N in the classroom today and flashed her an encouraging smile. She looked extremely nervous, and I couldn’t exactly blame her. The curriculum could be intense sometimes and not being able to hear Gojo’s lecturing was definitely going to be a challenge for her.

I made sure to take extra detailed notes just in case she needed them at any point and decided to spend the next couple of days revising my notes from the past month that she had missed. I didn’t want her to be even more behind than she already was and hoped I could help when and if she needed it.

She looked pretty confused the couple times I peeked over at her during the lecture which only reinforced my assumption that she wasn’t picking up on everything Gojo was saying.

I heard her fingers tapping on the keys of her laptop rapidly as she clearly struggled to keep up and I noticed she had a lot of blank spaces and question marks where I had notes.

I was definitely going to help if she asked.

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

Gojo comes in a few minutes later and begins to lecture. The classwork is nothing like you expected and is a lot faster paced than you would have liked. You really struggle to keep up with his speaking, particularly because he has a tendency to turn his back to you while continuing to talk.

You almost raised you hand a couple times, having written your question on a stray piece of paper but by the time you were ready to ask, Gojo had clearly moved on from the topic. The pace of the class was fast, and you were barely keeping up.

There were tons of question marks and blank spaces in your notes by the time the lecture ended, and you realized you were only getting about sixty percent of the information after peeking over at Blond Guy’s notebook. He had a lot more written down.

The five of you were dismissed for your lunch break before training. Everyone went off to the cafeteria style area that served meals for anyone who lived on the campus, and you trailed behind, not really knowing how to interact with anyone and feeling particularly meek and left out.

After picking up your tray of delicious smelling food, you found a place to sit in the corner by yourself. The food tasted just as good as it smelled, and you were pleasantly surprised by the quality. You observed the others from afar as you ate, watching their interactions and feeling quite left out due to how much fun they were seemingly having. But you knew you would just slow down the conversation and become a social burden if they invited you anyway.

Y/N sat by herself at lunch today and I decided to leave her be for now. She was clearly overwhelmed by class and a social interaction, which was obviously difficult for her, would only contribute to that.

I felt bad for letting her sit alone but Yuta and Panda came to the same conclusion which helped me feel better about it.

“Do you wanna invite her over?” Panda asks after looking over his shoulder at Y/N.

“I think she just needs some space. Class was a lot for me today so I imagine it was a lot for her.” Yuta answers, empathetic as always.

I nod my head in agreement along with Maki who wasn’t really contributing to any conversation about Y/N. I know it wasn’t anything personal, Maki is just wary around new people.

I looked over Maki’s shoulder quite often as we ate, quietly observing Y/N. She looked really defeated and would clearly zone out a little bit here and there, her utensil frozen in midair or eyes a bit glassy.

I wished more than anything I could just tell her I understood how she felt. But I can’t exactly talk, and she can’t exactly hear. So where did that leave us?

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

You went back to the dorms to change into some workout clothes because the next thing on the schedule was training which you were particularly nervous about. Despite working with Edo for six years, he never taught you how to spar or wield a weapon. Some of training was student led when Gojo wasn’t teaching and today, the girl was instructing.

You struggled to keep up with her instructions with the bow staff and you ended up fumbling around like an idiot with the wooden pole. You were so bad in fact, that you managed to hit yourself in the back of the head with the damn thing.

Naturally, your loud noise of pain and surprise caught everyone’s attention which was exactly what you needed in that moment— everyone staring at you with the pole on the ground and you rubbing the pained area.

After you hit yourself a couple more times, making a knot on the back of your head, she clearly tried to slow down for you but everyone else knew what they were doing so she couldn’t walk you through it step by step like you actually needed. She called a break, but you knew it was specifically for you to take a breather. You were getting really frustrated and upset with yourself.

Why can’t you do something so simple? I didn’t look that hard and there weren’t very many steps, but you just couldn’t figure it out to save your life.

You put the bow staff aside and tightened the laces on your shoes before stretching a bit in preparation for a run around the track. You were good at running and it gave you time to think and process your emotions.

You pushed yourself as fast as you could keep pace, the vibrations from your feet drumming on the red track drowned out the buzzing and humming of the cursed energy around you, helping you clear your mind. At least here, running around the track, you were finally in control of something. Your body would listen and could do what you asked.

Ugh, why couldn’t Edo have taught you at least a little bit on how to fight? Sure your technique was out of control for a long time but still. Even a couple lessons would have helped you not look like an incompetent idiot. That was totally helping your whole fitting in thing. They don’t know how to communicate with you and clearly aren’t trying. Or are too scared to. Why couldn’t Mari and Kai be here with you? They’d interpret for you— advocate for you. But here you were, alone in your world of almost silence, completely out of your element.

Three laps in, the girl flags you down and you slow your pace as you approach.

“You ready to get back at it?” She asks as you get close enough to read her thin lips.

You simply shake your head and pick up your pace again as you pass her. You really couldn’t bring yourself to pick up the stupid staff right now.

She gave you an odd and almost disapproving look before she continued teaching the others while you ran the track.

Great. She’s mad.

You ended up spending the rest of the allotted training period running, doing countless lap and pushing your body to its limits.

You did your best to repeat Edo’s encouraging words in your head. That your deafness wasn’t a limitation, just something you needed to find adaptations to. That you were stronger than you thought you were. That you were more than capable. That you could do it. But his words just didn’t seem to help as much as when you would see them signed on his rough, calloused hands.

This was going to be a lot harder than you imagined it would. But you were going to do your best.

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

Y/N’s struggles didn’t end in the classroom and unfortunately it looked like she had next to no experience with any weapon. Maki was teaching today and was surprisingly empathetic toward Y/N, slowing down a lot more than she normally would have and calling a break after Y/N hit herself in the head with the staff.

After an understandable huff of frustration, Y/N tossed the staff aside and began to do laps around the track. I watched her make a full lap as we took our break and she was a lot faster than I expected. She had seemingly set a good pace and was making good time around the track. I was fast but I might struggle to keep up with her.

“What’s all that about?” Maki asks, crossing her arms after gesturing to Y/N on the track.

“She’s frustrated.” Panda answers, a small frown on his face.

“Well sure but she doesn’t have to sulk.” Maki counters, brow raised.

“I think you’re forgetting she can’t hear anything you’re telling her, slow or not.” Yuta pipes up a bit timidly but saying what I would have.

I can’t exactly blame her for taking a break. Staffs are hard and I’ve gotten frustrated even listening to Maki’s instructions.

I wonder what’s going on in her head.

Five or six laps in, after declining Maki’s offer to resume training, I watched her face scrunch up in pain. Emotional or physical, I couldn’t tell. Probably a mix of both. To my surprise, she ran the rest of the allotted training time, which was quite a while. She clearly needed to vent her feelings and I really couldn’t blame her.

I’d be frustrated enough to run laps if I wasn’t able to keep up in class, but she was struggling with training on top of that too. I couldn’t imagine how she was feeling right now.

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

Unfortunately for you, your struggles didn’t end on the first day and the rest of your week was extremely difficult. You would spend hours in the library in the evenings, trying to catch up on the material you missed, desperate to catch up.

Training was arguably worse and you ended up getting frustrated and having to walk away a lot. You would do laps around the track or go into the gym to run on the treadmill when you were particularly frustrated so no one would see the tears slipping down your face. You were barely keeping up and were exhausted at your efforts to try and stay on top of things.

You knew you couldn’t ask questions since you’d only slow down the lecture or training session for everyone else and you didn’t want to be a burden to everyone.

Outside of class and training, you kept to yourself, mostly busy with trying to keep up, but even in your free time, you didn’t really interact with anyone.

You did finally start to catch onto the classwork to your relief, but you still had to work to catch up.

You were exhausted and discouraged at you experience here so far. But you trudged on, motivated by your memory of Edo and all the time he’d spent preparing you for this.

You were gonna do it for him.

[bookishcarmela]

Dark Desires

pairings: jacaerys velaryon x targ!reader, aemond targaryen x targ!reader

warning: none

Previous chapter

Chapter 3: the library

The walk to the library was longer than it needed to be, but you took the winding halls regardless, letting the cool stone and quiet corridors settle your temper. The argument with Baela still burned in your chest, the words lingering like embers in the back of your mind.

She had inherited her father’s temper, that much was certain. But it wasn’t just her anger that had struck you—it was her audacity. As if she, of all people, had the right to lecture you about loyalty. About Jace.

You exhaled sharply through your nose, fingers curling into the fabric of your dress as you walked. It wasn’t as if you had done anything to warrant such fury. A look. That was all it had been. And yet, Baela had reacted as though she had caught you wrapped in Aemond’s arms, whispering treason in the dark.

It was ridiculous.

But then you reminded yourself—Baela was fifteen. She had not been at court in years, not since your mother died, not since Aemond lost his eye. She did not know this place as you did. Did not understand the subtleties of it. The weight of looking, of not looking. She still saw Aemond as the boy from that night, the boy who had stolen Vhagar, who had bared his teeth like a feral thing and called Luke and Jace bastards before steel was drawn and blood was spilled.

For Baela, that was all he would ever be.

You slowed your steps as the doors of the library came into view, pressing a hand to your temple. Enough. You would not let her temper sour your entire evening.

The library was nearly empty when you stepped inside, just as you had hoped. The warmth of the hearth greeted you first, the dim candlelight flickering against the towering shelves that lined the walls. The scent of aged parchment and leather filled your lungs as you wandered between the rows, fingertips grazing the spines of old tomes, searching for something to occupy your mind.

A book caught your eye—one you did not recognize. Its cover was worn, the gilded lettering nearly faded with age. When you pulled it from the shelf, dust scattered into the air. The title read: A Chronicle of Court in the Time of King Maegor, The Cruel.

Your brows lifted. You had read accounts of Maegor before, but never anything that detailed what court had been like under his rule. Curious, you carried it to a cushioned seat near the hearth, settling into the chair as you flipped through the pages.

The words began to pull you in, descriptions of fear, bloodshed, and the iron grip Maegor had held over the Red Keep. It was fascinating, in a way—how absolute his rule had been, how even the most powerful lords had bowed before his wrath. How the castle itself had been shaped by his will, his paranoia carving its halls into a labyrinth of secrecy and death.

Footsteps sounded in the quiet. Slow, measured. Someone moving through the rows of bookshelves. You did not look up. There was no reason to. Whoever it was, they were not here for you.

And then—

“Cousin.”

Your fingers stilled against the pages. The voice was deeper than you remembered, but unmistakable.

You lifted your gaze.

Aemond stood before you, dressed in black leathers, a silver chain resting at his throat. His eyepatch was in place, concealing whatever lay beneath, but his remaining eye—piercing and unreadable—fixed on you with an almost animalistic intensity. His gaze lingered, slow and deliberate, tracing the length of you, pausing at the deep sapphire of your dress before meeting your eyes once more.

“Aemond,” you said, closing the book in your lap. “I see you have not lost your habit of lurking.”

His lips curled, though it was not quite a smile. “And I see you have not lost your sharp tongue.”

You exhaled through your nose, setting the book aside. “What do you want?”

He tilted his head, stepping closer. “I was merely passing through.”

“Of course.” You leaned back in your chair, watching him. “And yet, here you stand.”

His gaze flickered to the book at your side. “A history of Maegor?”

You arched a brow. “Do you disapprove?”

“I find it curious,” he mused. “You have never struck me as one so enthralled by tales of the past.”

You scoffed. “And what is a prince without his history? Tell me, cousin, does the weight of our ancestors not rest upon your shoulders, as it does mine?”

Aemond studied you for a long moment before he spoke again. “Seven years.”

You frowned. “What?”

“It has been seven years since you were last at court,” he said. “And in all that time, you have not written.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the statement. “Should I have?”

He did not answer. Did not look away. There was something unreadable in his gaze, something tense and restrained, but you could not decipher it.

The silence stretched between you, thick with unspoken things. You had never shared a conversation with Aemond that did not end in sharp words or the presence of others pulling you apart. And yet, here you were—alone, speaking without the weight of Jace’s watchful eye or Baela’s scornful gaze.

You tilted your head. “I suppose you must be grateful, then.”

He raised a brow. “For what?”

“For my absence,” you said simply. “It must have been a relief, not having to suffer my presence.”

Aemond did smile at that—small, sharp. “Do not mistake my silence for relief.”

Your pulse quickened, though you did not know why.

Before you could think of a reply, he stepped back. “Enjoy your book, cousin.”

And just like that, he turned and left, the sound of his footsteps fading into the distance.

You stared after him, unsure what to make of the encounter. Of the tension that lingered in the wake of his presence. You exhaled, shaking your head before turning back to the book in your lap, forcing yourself to focus on the words rather than the ghost of his voice in your ears.

Seven years. You turned the words over in your mind, trying to make sense of them. And you never wrote. As if he had expected you to. As if it had been something you should have done. But why? You and Aemond had never been close. You had barely spoken beyond trading insults in passing. What reason would you have had to write?

And yet, the way he had looked at you… that was more than just a look. The weight of his eye on you, the slow drag of it, the deliberate way he had studied you—it unsettled you in a way you could not name.

You huffed and snapped the book shut. You suddenly had no desire to stay in the library.

Rising to your feet, you placed the book back onto the shelf and left, stepping into the cool corridors once more. You wandered aimlessly, letting your feet carry you through the familiar halls of the Keep, until the stone gave way to open air.

The gardens stretched before you, moonlight casting silver over the trimmed hedges and winding paths. Memories surfaced—of childhood games played among the flowers, of hushed laughter shared beneath the boughs of the weirwood tree. Of Helaena’s quiet presence, her soft hands weaving crowns of lilacs and roses.

You walked to the godswood, your fingers grazing the ancient bark. The old gods had no place in the south, and yet, the weirwood stood—watching, waiting. You had always found it strange that Maegor, of all kings, had left it standing.

You exhaled, letting the night air cool your thoughts. And yet, no matter how much you tried, you could not shake the memory of Aemond’s gaze.

By the time you returned to your chambers, your thoughts were still tangled with the weight of  what had transpired these past hours.

You barely had time to sit before a knock sounded at your door. You sighed, rubbing your temples. "Come in."

A servant entered, bowing slightly. "Princess Rhaenys requests your presence in her chambers."

Frowning, you stood without argument, following the servant through the dimly lit corridors. The Red Keep felt heavier at night, the stone walls holding whispers of the past, and tonight, they pressed down on you more than ever.

When you entered Rhaenys' chambers, the warmth of the hearth greeted you, its flames casting flickering shadows along the carved wooden walls. The princess sat at a small table near the fire, her expression as composed as ever, though her eyes held a weight that made your stomach twist. Across from her, Baela lounged in her chair, arms crossed, her gaze cutting like steel as she looked up at you.

She let out an exaggerated sigh, rolling her eyes so hard you thought she might strain something. "Fantastic."

You arched a brow. "Always such a delight, sister"

Rhaenys' sigh was softer but far more effective in silencing you both. "What did I tell you two your  about bickering? We do not have time for foolishness."

Neither you nor Baela spoke, though the tension between you simmered beneath the surface.

Rhaenys studied you both for a long moment before continuing, her voice even but firm. "Rhaenrya, your father, and the rest of your family will arrive tomorrow. And with them, the trial over Lord Corlys' succession. We must be prepared."

Baela's posture stiffened slightly, her fingers tightening where they rested on the arm of her chair. You swallowed, the weight of the words settling into your bones.

Rhaenys gestured toward the empty chair at the table. "Sit. Y/n. We will discuss what is to come."

You hesitated but obeyed, lowering yourself onto the cushioned seat. A servant moved quietly around the room, setting plates of roasted meat, fruit, and fresh bread before you. Despite the ache in your stomach, you found you had no appetite.

"What did the Queen wish to speak to you about?" Baela asked suddenly, breaking the silence. Her tone was sharp, but there was something else beneath it—curiosity, perhaps.

You glanced at Rhaenys, who met your gaze with a knowing look before answering. "Nothing that concerns either of you."

Baela scoffed but said nothing more, instead stabbing a piece of bread with unnecessary force.

Rhaenys turned her attention back to you both. "Tomorrow, we dine with the Queen and her family. I expect both of you to be on your best behavior. No outbursts, no snide remarks, no foolishness. We are here to secure our family’s place, not to unravel it."

Baela muttered something under her breath, but Rhaenys didn’t acknowledge it. Instead, she lifted her goblet, taking a measured sip before speaking again. "No matter what happens tomorrow, we stand together. Do you both understand?"

You nodded, and after a moment, Baela did the same.

The conversation drifted to practical matters—what to expect from the trial, the arguments that would be made, the people they needed to be wary of. Rhaenys spoke with the clarity of someone who had spent a lifetime navigating court, and though Baela still bristled at her authority, she listened.

When the meal ended, you excused yourself, eager for the solace of your own chambers. As you stepped into the cool corridor, the thought of tomorrow pressed heavily against your mind—but for the first time in days, a flicker of hope warmed your chest.

Your family would be here. Jace would be here.

And perhaps, for a little while, that would be enough.

[azurlily]

Day 6 of 31 of the yandere month May challenge. This yandere is extremely creepy in the sense that it's sort of non-con, but not at all at the same time. I also think Sevika is naturally a very intense almost yandere, so this isn't like the others. You'll see.

Also a reminder to everyone this is the last month you can request a specific type of reader for free. After this month it becomes commission work. Ask any questions in either DM or on my asks/requests.

Sevika gets pissed when you go out on a mission with Jinx. She teaches you how to obey orders.

Yandere!Sevika SMUT

There are many dumb things that you can do in your lifetime. Stealing from someone important, lying about your job details, and worst of all pissing Sevika.

How did this even happen? Well you and Jimx have been getting more buddy buddy. So...why not go up to Piltover with her?

You told Sevika about your plans, she insisted you stay home. You told her it wasn't a big deal, and that it'd be good for you and Jinx to get along.

"No, and that's final. Your aren't going anywhere princess, so don't even try. Besides, you're in better condition, and our relationship has been doing better. Let's not ruin it."

Sevika and you had been fighting these past couple months. She wouldn't apologize for taking you from your house suddenly. She said it was just because she wanted fo see you. It took about 2 weeks for her to apologize and when she did, it wasn't very conventional. For her at least.

"Yes- flowers. They're yours, I-uh. I apologize."

That's all she told you before forcing you into a hug. Sevika only apologizes once in a blue moon. The apology ended in sex, of course.

Anyway, she gave you a bad vibe when she looked at you like that. Sevika for the life of herself would never hurt you, but she would intimidate. Sevika loving you basically secures you safety.

You fought with her saying that Jinx isn't a child and that neither are you. You both can do what you want. She rolled her eyes and slapped you ass.

"Mhm, you ain't a kid, but you act as stupid as one. Now, no going with her, I'm serious."

You asked her why and she kissed you on your forehead and left. You didn't get an answer and now you were frustrated. So, of course, knowing it'll blow up in your face later.

You and Jinx were almost caught. You got grazed by multiple bullets, and were in a good bit of pain. You were in a lot of pain, and Jinx felt like an ass for taking you with her.

When you two got back Jinx was teln by Silco for a "short" lecture. You laid on the bed Sevika and you share when you come over.(or when she abducts you) She came in about an hour later, she'd thought she was getting a small moment of peace.

"Oh- you're back. Listen about earlier with the whole Jinx thing. I'm not gonna say it, but I'll take you out- HOLY SHIT!"

She stood there for a second, trying to figure out- what the hell happened? It took her a minute and then it hits her. You fucking idiot.

Sevika thinks about how badly you're hurt, obviously there had to be more than one person. This was more than likely a surprise attack, which was cowardly and not something she was all into.

She imagined for a second the blood she's going to have on her hands later. It's going to be a lot, she intends to bathe in it. How dare some Piltover scum hurt you!?

She doesn't say anything and stares at you for a moment. She turn around and leave the room, only to come back with bandages.

Sevika gives you a cold stare and forces you up. She knows it hurts, as it should. She's pissed, and you dealing with the pain is her way of saying fuck you without opening her mouth. She refused to talk while fixing you up, she knows if the did the only words she'll be saying are: who and why?

She watches you wince and whimper, she sees you eyes glaze over in tears and watches as you shake in pain.

"It hurts, dont it? Well good. Now you know why I didn't want you going out with Jinx, she's a damned trouble maker."

Sevika was finally able to say something without straight up yelling. She watches your reactions, sees the fear, anger, embarrassment, and finally you start to cry.

She watches you cry for a good second, she moves you robotic arm up and pats your head. Then she grabs your hair and tilts your head up roughly.

"I try, I really do, but you seem really intent on pissing me off. So, this behavior needs to be punished. I'm giving you the choice on the punishment, it's easier for me. You have two choices, overstimulation or edging."

You groan as her mechanical hand squeezes your hair. Sevika is enjoying this, and evidently so are you. You choose overstimulation, it's better than being denied. At least you get what you want, even if you get too much of it.

Sevika stands up, putting the bandages down and looking at you with a glare. You know the drill, and in situations like these it's best not to brat off. You begin to undress, keeping your underwear and bra on. Sevika likes to take those two peices of clothing off specifically.

You watch her flex her mechanical arm, giving you a disgustingly smug smile.

"Lay back."

You lay back, putting your arms over your eyes. You feel cool metal run up and down your thighs. A second, warm hand unclasps your bra from me front/back. She didn't need to see her to see the smug look. She knows just how to handle you.

"Hands up, I want you to watch."

You do as Sevika commands and move your arms above your hands. She warns if you try to stop her she will tie you up. Her mechanical hand slowly rubs your thighs, she grips it roughly. Deep red marks starting to form. You look at her, tears in your eyes.

"Nuh uh, I don't wanna see them tears. You have brought this upon yourself, so lay back and- safeword. If...you need to."

Sevika pulls your thighs apart, opening them widely. Her warmer hand moved from groping me to rubbing on my thighs. She lowers her head, pressing it against my thigh. She hums quietly, you can feel the vibrations, shaking slightly you look down at her.

Her eyes are a beautiful, silvery grey, you couldn't stop staring. She notices and gives you thighs a tight squeeze, the smirk never once fading.

"My, my, my, you're shaking. I wonder, are you as exited down there too? Well? Are you slut?"

Sevika doesn't hold back on the insults, maybe the praise, but she loves to degrade you. Sevika runs her mechanical finger up and down your panties, the wetness and slicks becoming more apparent.

She growls, oh god. Sevika, no longer being able to take it, practically tears your panties off. She originally intended to come home and take you out, then she'd probably end up fucking your brains out in some alleyway in Piltover. She's been pent up all day thinking about it. Now she can fully relax, and take good action on you.

Sevika moves her head until her face is just hover over your pussy. You groan and whimper when she doesn't start. You didn't agree to be teased, dammit! That's why you chose this option!

"Oh hush. You'll get what you want, princess."

God that nickname turns you on, plus feeling her hot breath against you only makes things worse. You grind you hips up trying, hoping, to get some sort of friction. When Sevika slaps you thigh, hard enough to leave a mark. You know to stop, for not at least.

Finally Sevika herself is tired of waiting too, she presses her tounge into you. The way you squirm, feeling her hot, long tounge tear you open. It does something to her, in a way you will never understand.

She grabs both of your thighs, pulling you so you're hips are right on her face. You wrap your legs around her head, squeezing harshly as she eats you out. Sevika goes from small licks, to sucking on your clit, to pushing her tounge inside you. She does everything she can to hear you scream, and scream you do.

How can you not? This woman is skilled with her tounge in every way, she knows just how to tease you, and just how to make you cum in minutes. That's exactly what she's aiming for now, she wants to see your freshly fucked face, as soon as possible.

Sevika doesn't pull back when you begin rocking your hips, on the contrary. She tries pulling you closer, although you can't really get any closer. As you're stomach begins to tighten and your breathing begins to quicken. You both know what's coming, you, to be more specific.

As you feel piping hot bliss rush over you, you shake and spasm. Sevika doesn't let up though. No, in fact she continues as your orgasm begins to slowly die down. That's when the fun really starts.

Sevika can feel you fighting, slapping, pushing hitting. She said not to use your hands, but she knows you cant help it. You're a dumb slut, and sluts don't know how to think. Especially not you.

You start grabbing and pulling on Sevikas hair, you knew this was the outcome. Didn't stop you from acting like you were innocent. Doesn't matter anyway, the more you push, and pull, and bite. The more fun Sevika is having. You can practically feel her grinning.

You scream and cry, feeling yourself build up once more. Your hips spasming uncontrollably, your entire body was shaking. You knew it was only a matter of time before you came for the second time. After that she'd keep going until you passed out.

You really are stupid, but that's okay. Sevika always cleans up your messes, and after she finishes up with you. She's heading to Piltover to rip some heads off, she might even bring you a souvenir.

[frazzledsoul]

It's generally left out in the annals of bad behavior/infidelity in the Gilmore Girls canon, but I just want to review the details of Lorelai's "situationship" with Twilight Dad in season 3 when she is in the midst of lecturing Jess and Rory on proper boyfriend/girlfriend etiquette.

Lorelai meets Alex (aka Twilight Dad) on 3.11, which aired on January 21. She and Alex are third wheels when Sookie meets up with an old friend and accidentally sets up a date with him (this takes place during the episode where Rory and Paris fence and have intense sexual tension). I think he asks her out during this episode.

One week later, on 3.12 (airing on February 28) Lorelai and Alex have a coffee date. They discuss the coffee shop he's opening and his two kids who he shares custody with his ex. He suggests a fishing date, and Lorelai ropes Luke into teaching her how to fish. Bear in mind that she has known Luke has crushed on her for the better part of two years.

Anyway, after this incident, Luke decides to give up on Lorelai and asks Nicole out.

The next episode is 3.13, which is the flashback episode. It airs on February 4. This is Luke and Nicole's first date. Nicole definitely does not spend the night.

3.14 airs on February 11. This is Swan Song, where Lorelai is antsy about Rory and Jess possibly fucking, he gets beaked in the eye by the ghost of Shane, they fight, and at the end of the episode Alexis makes a way too realistic moan into Milo's mouth and Rory goes home and tells Lorelai that she's totally going to do Jess at some point.

So Alex and Lorelai have been going out for three weeks, and they decide to go away together with Sookie and Jackson. Sounds kind of serious. It's also mentioned in this episode that in the one week he's been dating Nicole Luke has been on a bunch of overnight trips to New York and seen a bunch of Broadway plays with his girlfriend. I guess we're supposed to assume there's a time jump here because there's no way he did all that within a week.

I'll also point out here that even though Luke mentions he interrupts Rory and Jess every ten minutes so they don't get around to having sex, if he's also making overnight trips to New York they're probably being left alone in the apartment at night quite a bit. Pair that with the offscreen "movie nights" we hear about later and yeah, uh, I think we can figure out what is taking place because no way is that going on in Lorelai's house unless it's also happening while she's out with Alex.

3.15 is February 18, the hockey episode. Jess doesn't call Rory to arrange a date and Lorelai lectures him on his terrible boyfriend behavior. Then he shows up with hickey tickets (and then some!) and I'm guessing Rory's virginity became fairly technical in the car afterwards.

3.16 is the episode where Paris is rejected from Harvard, which airs on February 25. Lorelai is delighted to know that Rory has not actually had sex and that she has "the good kid". She also makes out with Max and then tells Rory all about it and when Rory asks about poor Twilight Dad, Lorelai says "I don't know." I'm thinking you really should not be giving lectures on morality and proper relationship etiquette, hon. Also two weeks ago the relationship was serious enough to include an overnight weekend, but now it doesn't matter? Huh.

So let's skip ahead to Keg. Max, which is three episodes and two months later, which airs on April 25. I'm assuming there actually was a time jump between Luke and Nicole's first date and the swan episode and these episodes actually took place much closer together than they aired, as there's a lot of stuff going on with Luke finding out Jess is skipping school, steals his car to force him to go, and Jess finally being told he isn't graduating that seems like it would take place much closer in time. Anyway, it seems that Lorelai concludes that her relationship with Twilight Dad is over, because "it's become more intermittent". Does she call him and ask them if their relationship is over? I think we all know the answer to that one. Lorelai tries to push herself on Max after he says no and acts like she's the one that's been affronted when he shoves a table between them. I think there was supposed to be a parallel between Lorelai and Jess crossing boundaries in this episode, although I'm not sure why Lorelai did what she did for any reason other than she felt like it.

I really feel someone who behaves in this manner should not be lecturing her teenage daughter or her boyfriend about what a real relationship looks like, nor should she be evaluating who or who isn't "the good kid" based on what she's been doing. It appears Alex was just cheated on and dropped without explanation as the relationship was getting serious. Rory was fully aware of what was happening and further got the message that it is okay to do this sort of thing if an ex boyfriend enters the picture because if he was yours first, it's okay to cheat with him whenever you feel like it. I'm sure that's not something she's going to take to heart or anything.

Anyway, fair well Twilight Dad. I'm sure you'll have more interesting adventures in the PNW from now on.

[strawbeerossi]

Salt In Open Wounds

This is for @tobias-hankel’s pre-whumptober collection!

Bad Thing: Torture

Bad Person: Ex-Partner

Content/Warnings: Cursing, unnamed abusive ex. bounces between therapy appointment and past abduction, past trauma, mention of guns and knives, mentions of Tobias Hankel, physical abuse, torture, branding (with a cattle iron), hopelessness, general angst, PTSD, depression, murder, blood, psychological torture, mild gore.

Word Count: 5.5K

Find it on AO3 || Masterlist || Requests

I’m no better than the CM writers for this. Also I got a little carried away with writing this.

“Spencer, I’d like to talk about what you’ve been through, if that’s alright.” The woman across from Spencer spoke up. This was his sixth session since the incident, however it was like he could never fully open up. Traumatic events were capable of taking someone’s voice, in his case it was severe. He’d been digging his nails into his hands just discussing the outer details, not wanting to dive straight into the cesspool of darkness he’d been exposed to. He wanted to avoid it for as long as he could. It wouldn’t be that easy though, he had nothing else to use as a shield. He’d explained all the details surrounding his pain, now he had to talk about it.

“I know it’s going to be very hard.” Marianne, his therapist, spoke. “I just want you to know that we can take this as slow as you’d like. There will be future sessions.” She gently reminded me. The once bright and cheerful doctor had been chipped away over his fifteen year career with the BAU, his year of hell broke him further. “No, no.. I uh, I need to talk about it at some point.” Therapy was mandatory, so it wasn’t like he’d gotten any other choice but to sit there. “I just, I uh, I don’t know how to begin..” 

“Why don’t you start with the first night?” 

*** 

Spencer was excited, taking a much needed break from his job at the FBI to go on sabbatical.There was a lecture circuit for Criminal Justice related classes, he was excited to take over the course for Criminology. Marbury University had recommended him for the job due to his exceeding pass rate for his class. He didn’t have the confidence to tell them it was because of the fact he was an attractive older male and he captured attention from young women and men alike. 

It was silly, really. As a younger man, he was more used to people looking at him like he was an alien. He was socially awkward, his demeanor being one like a skittish cat. The years passed and he gained confidence, little by little. With that confidence, he began to lose the innocence that he once had. Tobias Hankel chipped away at him, getting him addicted to dilaudid as well as subjecting him to torture. After him, Spencer’s life was never the same.

Prison was the boiling point. Even being there for a few months, it began to eat away at him. He’d watched a friend die who he worked so hard to protect, he’d been subjected to beatings, as well as stabbing himself with a shiv to get himself locked into solitary confinement due to the fact the inmates knew of his status of a federal agent. The day JJ told him he was going home, he was relieved. 

Until he had to deal with Cat Adams yet again, the woman using Lindsey Vaughn to abduct his mother, which sent them on a wild goose chase. It ended with Diana safe and sound, yet he never thought that he could experience that much anger and hatred. He’d planned on choking Cat to death in the interrogation room. Thank God for JJ, the one who managed to bring him out of his intense fit of rage.

He was trying to fix his life again, bring back the past version of himself that he yearned to be. A young man in the world who had so much promise, so much dedication. Now he was older, he was aware that he had so much to lose.

It was Friday morning when he left the office after giving Emily his paperwork for sabbatical, requesting a year of leave to pour himself into his passion of teaching the future of the bureau as well as law enforcement as a whole. The drive was gonna be an hour, so he felt like he’d been prepared enough, not being someone who was particularly fond of driving. 

The convention center reminded him of the places that he and Penelope would go to for their numerous conventions. Just the memories made him smile, enjoying the parts of his past that he loved to relive in his mind. Eidetic memory was a blessing and a curse, that was the bottom line of it all. Grabbing his suitcases from the trunk of his car, he was heading into the hotel where he’d be staying for the time being. The circuit was only for a few weeks, however he was preparing to go back to Marbury for the rest of his time off.

Spencer had checked into his room, going up the stairs to the second floor to get settled in. “Excuse me,” A familiar voice was causing Spencer’s attention to turn towards the sound. “Wait what are you-” There was no way he could’ve predicted the way he was feeling something heavy hitting the back of his head, his body crashing onto the ground. 

***

“Do you know how they brought you back to where you ended up?” Marianne asked, keeping a calm demeanor even though Spencer had been digging his nails into his palm, eyes squeezed shut from the fear of the vivid memories coming back to haunt him, almost smelling the hotel hallway. “I, uh, no. I can’t remember. I woke up there, I uh, I remembered the pain in my head. It was a headache that felt like it gave me a brain hemorrhage. Obviously it didn’t.” He spoke softly, eyes now opening as his gaze was fixed down at his lap. 

“There’s no logical way that she got me out by herself, it makes no sense. I just can’t figure out who was there to help her and I don’t know why anyone would help her.” Unbeknownst to Spencer, his hands were tangling in his tousled curls as he roughly pulled at the roots from frustration. Pain was a way he could kickstart his hell, knowing that the familiarity of his wincing would bring back something. It had to. The sounds of Marianne trying to snap Spencer out of his actions had fallen on deaf ears, tears now streaming down Spencer’s face as he was fully throwing himself back into a world he so desperately wanted to get away from.

***

He placed himself back in the dank basement, the smell of mildew and mold assaulting Spencer’s nose. He could feel the sweat pouring down his face and back, the panic setting in from the coarse and rough rope cutting into the flesh of his wrists, daring to cut his skin from his thrashing.

Due to being abducted before by the likes of Tobias Hankel, he knew to examine his surroundings, that was how he got himself out the first time, how he saved himself and began to slip away into a never ending pit of trauma and despair. The dim light in the room revealed a cement floor, droplets of a crimson substance covering the floor. Blood. There was an overwhelming sense of hopelessness. He shouldn’t have been here, he should’ve been getting ready for his lecture delving into the psychology of serial killers. Instead, he was locked away in a kill room, a place where he could be reduced to nothing but a pile of flesh and bone. 

His ears were ringing, the head injury from before causing a migraine that made him want to slam his head onto the cement floor, to put an end to the splitting headache. It was good he was tied up, the idea of ending this suffering so early on and robbing whoever this person was of their chance to kill him was so satisfying. Eidetic memory didn’t serve him any purpose here though, each time he tried to remember the face of the woman in the hallway, he was left with a blurry outline. This was all too reminiscent of when he was arrested in Mexico. Maybe he was drugged again? That would explain how he couldn’t bring himself to remember his captor. The trauma response of the brain would surely be shutting things out, as if it were any help shielding him of the pure hell he was going to face.

His thoughts stopped entirely when he heard the heavy sound of the metal door being pushed open, his head snapping over immediately. With double vision from the concussion, he felt even more hopeless. “W-why am I here?” He asked slowly, blinking his eyes slowly to try and focus them on the face of the person in front of him. The pain of a sharp slap to his face had his head flying to the side, a groan of pain falling from his lips. 

“You’re here because this is the place you need to be.” The voice was soft, almost sickeningly sweet. It was also very familiar. The woman from the hallway, the woman who haunted his thoughts from her unknown, blurred face. There was a burn in Spencer’s throat. He felt ill.

Her.

“Why are you doing this?” He asked immediately after, the woman sighing as she brought a hand to gently stroke his cheek. It was a complete 180. “You’re here because we never got to talk about our relationship, honey. You decided that you were better off alone, I’m showing you that you’re safer here with me.” She offered a smile. “You will not leave me this time, Spencer. We can be happy!”

Despite his survival instincts telling him to play along, he couldn’t. “W-we broke up for a reason.” There was a waiver to his voice, fear. “Right. Then I got arrested for domestic abuse. I just think you’re dramatic.” She stated in a simple tone, her hand dropping from his cheek. Obsessive Love Disorder was a dangerous thing, something that if left untreated, would cause nothing but pain.

“I mean, what kind of man lets his girlfriend hit him without fighting back? A weak man. It’s sad. Don’t worry though, we are gonna have a lot of fun!” She mused while moving to brush her hair back from her face. Her nonchalant behavior was chilling, how heartless she could be. 

Spencer was young when they’d initially gotten together, that being his first serious relationship. Things started normal, they got along and went on dates. She essentially love bombed him from the beginning, he was just too naive to notice what was going on. It was a year of joy and peace, the two enjoying each other's presence enough to the point where Spencer felt prepared to take the next step. He moved in with her. 

That was when the hell started. The psychological torment, the physical abuse, and emotional manipulation was that of a cinder block tied to his ankles, ready to be thrown overboard and left without a trace. The weight of the relationship almost killed him. She would put loaded guns to his head, sadistically laughing and taunting him by acting as if she would really shoot him. There were some nights where he wished that she did. It would be his only shot at peace. 

When he left the first time, he got extremely lucky. He got to use the excuse that the BAU needed him after he’d spent so much time planning for his escape. He elicited in JJ’s help, his best friend at work who he’d broken down to on a particularly stressful case. He thought that getting arrested would set her straight, get her checked out by a psychologist or something and calmed down with proper medication. 

Naivety. He knew that someone couldn’t be helped unless they wanted it. 

That was abundantly clear now that he was in this predicament. 

All he could think of was that he’d never go home, nor would he ever be able to see his mom, JJ, Emily, or any of his beloved team again. It brought tears to his eyes, thinking that nobody knew where he was. He was supposed to be in a classroom with promising students that would change the world. What if they didn’t even notice that he was gone? By the time his year's sabbatical was over, it would be far too late. He’d be a rotting corpse buried in a random backyard.

“You’re crying.. Oh, sweetheart..” The sudden movement of her body inching closer caused the man to flinch, eyes widening as he leaned back against the chair he was bound to. “You really don’t trust me?” She had the audacity to sound hurt, as if she didn’t have him tied to a chair. “This is ridiculous, Spencer. You are just as weak as I could remember. I thought being in your forties, you would be stronger.” She sighed while her hand was roughly grabbing his hair to pull it back, the male being forced to meet her gaze.

“We are going to fix that. I’m going to train you into being better.” She spat as a frown spread across her face. Spencer knew his body was tense, his heart was threatening to burst out of his chest. “Since you don’t listen..” She began, a sad sigh falling from her lips. “I need to go through our first lesson.” She stated as she walked away. For a moment, Spencer could feel a blind hope that things would be okay. That her punishment would just be her leaving. 

Spencer could only hear the rapid beat of his heart, the blood in his veins running cold. There was no way out. When she came back over, he inspected the object in her hand. The shiny metal of the scissors had his body shuddering in fear, eyes trained on her every movement. He made an effort to try and weasel away from her touch, however the rough hold on his shirt was keeping him in place. Was she going to plunge the tool deep into his chest cavity? She could stab him in the heart with enough force or a lung even. She caught him by surprise.

The blade ran over the shirt covering the male’s lanky torso before she offered a smile. “Relax. I’m not gonna stab you with scissors, that would be too easy.” She giggled, as if the idea was humorous. Instead of stabbing him, she was using the utensil to cut off the sweater from his torso, her idea of taking away his dignity seemed to be undressing him. Of course, she wanted him to be uncomfortable, embarrassed. It was the only way to break him and force him into submission. She would feed off of fear and he felt like he sustained her enough. 

Like an eagle stalking its next prey, Spencer kept his eyes on her, watching every movement she made while mentally preparing himself for the worst. When she’d reached on a nearby table and picked up what looked to be a taser, it was enough for Spencer to let his eyes fall shut tightly. She was planning on torturing him by shocking him, that had to be it. 

The crackle of electricity coming from the device had her smiling, holding it up to proudly display it. “First rule, you need to learn how to take everything the world will give you. Let’s see if that old man's heart can handle a few shocks, hmm?” It looked like a law enforcement level weapon, one that had stronger shockwaves than the typical ones that could be purchased in a store. Before Spencer could try to plead, he was feeling the watts of electricity surge through his veins, the violence of it causing his body to thrash. With his eyes rolled to the back of his head, he tried thinking of his mom. How happy she’d be when he got home, how excited she’d be to tell him about how her life was going. 

His body was convulsing as the taser was pulled away from his neck, the male breathing hard as he was doing his damndest to keep himself together. A deep groan emerged from his throat as he slowly lifted his tired head, glossed over eyes facing the woman who was planning on making him miserable. “I’m.. Really shocked that you went through that without passing out. I mean, I had it pressed there for three minutes. The pain typically would elicit more reaction. At least, that’s what I’ve learned from other friends down here..” She was letting her head tilt to the side, reminiscent of a puppy who had so much curiosity. “Let’s see if you can last longer! This will be great research!” 

The lesson went on for an hour, off and on subjecting the male to enough electricity to make his heart burst in his chest. By the grace of God and fighting for his life, he made it. The devil reincarnate was satisfied, feeding off the pure agony displayed in Spencer’s pupils. He could hide fear but he couldn’t hide excruciating pain. The way his eyes were tightly squeezed shut, he was shaking slightly in his spot. There was amusement in her eyes, a grin on her face as she was bringing her hands to his cheeks.

In his weak state, he didn’t flinch.

**

“So that’s where the scars come from. Oh, Spencer..” Marianne was frowning while looking at the male, the man looking visibly distressed by having to tap into those memories that he so desperately tried to forget. The pain and torture he’d went through was enough to break even the strongest of people. 

“That’s where those scars come from, right. She repeatedly used the taser against my neck and chest.” His voice was shaky as he was giving an explanation, the purple scarf draped around his neck slowly being removed to show off the marks the prongs left behind. 

“There was more. She burned my skin with the taser but she had something else. She called it a toy, something she had joy in using on me. She claimed.. She claimed it marked me as hers.” He explained, fingers slowly messing with a loose thread on his cardigan. 

“Would you like to discuss it or should we hold off until another session?” The woman asked, a sympathetic look etched on her face as she studied Spencer’s mannerisms. “Because I don’t expect to know about it today if you aren’t ready. You’ve opened up a lot today.”

“No, I can, uh, explain it to you. I just.. I’m a little nervous to relive it.”

Anyone would be.

**

Spencer was sitting in the chair, his back in an unbelievable amount of pain for sitting upright for six days now. The lessons that they had in that basement consisted of a taser being pushed roughly into flesh, Spencer’s body weak and exhausted after what felt like hours of being shocked. His body could only take so much more before he was rendered fully weak, unable to help himself. His eyelids were heavy, so tired yet he couldn’t sleep. 

The sleep deprivation had been settling in, sanity slowly beginning to disappear while the male fought the urge to sleep. He had to be awake, aware. However in his delirious state, he was going down the path of madness. 

“Gideon, I just wanna get out of here but I’m slowly losing faith.” The genius’ voice slurred, looking over at the man who was standing in front of him. The man who he knew was dead, yet.. Here he was, right in front of him. “You’re going to get out of here, Reid. Just put yourself in her shoes. What is she gaining?” 

The words had the male slowly letting his head lull to the side, heavy eyes slowly closing. “She wants to break me psychologically. To make me a slave.” He responded to the ghost of his mentor. “Right. Do not let her break you. Fight. Your team will be here. Garcia has always known where to find people. Between you and I, I’m pretty sure she has a tracker inside everyone on earth.” The words made Spencer laugh tiredly, keeping his eyes shut. “She probably does.. I could see it.” He spoke softly, shifting in his chair.

The lighter ceased as soon as he could hear the heavy door being shoved open, the metal door hitting the wall was enough to make his head shoot up. Jason was gone, yet she was here. 

“You’re awake! That’s so good. We have spent so much time together that I’ve been thinking of something special to give you.” She offered a wide smile as she was going to the wall behind him, a furnace being there this whole time that he just couldn’t see. “I got this whenever I had the farm. Do you remember that?” The words made his heart nearly stop as she stepped in front of him while holding the object to show off. A cattle iron. “I figured that I’d show you my most prized toy. Not many people have ever seen it!” She offered a wide smile. 

“Since we have been having so much fun together, I want to give you something to definitely remember. You’ll never forget.” She cooed, finger tapping his nose while she hummed in satisfaction. The fear in his eyes thoroughly satisfied her. “Alright. Let’s get this heated up, shall we?” As it was placed in the flame across the room though, the male was quiet while trying to keep himself calm and collected. The tears running down his face didn’t quite get the memo.

“Don’t look so scared. I promise that it’s not that big, it’s just got my name and a nice little heart. It’ll be like a tattoo!” He offered a wide smile while taking the metal out of the fire while approaching the shirtless mail. “W-wait! Let’s talk about this! You don’t need to do this!” The burn would be severe enough to never heal, to haunt him forever.

His body was shaking the minute she spared no mercy, the burning metal being pushed into his skin with force. It was enough to make Spencer scream in pain, the sickening sound of his skin sizzling and the putrid smell of burning flesh and hair filling the small room. His hands were shaking, the rope now cutting deep into the skin to draw blood as he tried to thrash in place to make it stop.

The movements made the chair give way, the man falling back and his head roughly slamming into the cement floor. The pain was enough to make it feel like his brain had fallen from his head, the brain matter decorating the floor and this being his last few minutes. It wasn’t physically possible and he knew that.

His head was bleeding, the blood pooling on the floor behind his head. Thankfully not a cracked skull. She’d pulled him to sit up in the chair once more before she was using her first aid knowledge to stop the bleeding and patch him up. 

“You definitely have a concussion.” She scolded, noticing his blown out pupils and his general dizziness. 

**

“She burned you?” 

“She branded me.” 

The words came out slowly as Spencer’s shaking hands were slowly pulling up the top he had on while showing off the scarred skin that was scabbed over, the man having a horrible habit of picking at it. Even if it was a year old, he felt like it was fresh. He could remember the way his skin bubbled, the way he could feel the indention singe into his chest.The woman’s eyes were wide, seeing the damage done. In addition to the branded flesh, there were numerous puncture-like wounds. She assumed it came from more ‘toys’ that this sick bitch collected.

“Do you feel comfortable talking about after?” Her words were soft, ignoring the clock on the wall signaling their session was over and she could go home for the day. She’d never had Spencer open up like this in this capacity. He explained in such graphic and gory detail that she could understand the dark descent of madness that he felt himself slipping into. The depression of knowing that there was always someone just like her out there. Some other helpless victim being trapped and not being lucky enough to get help like he did.

“Everything was pretty much a repeat after that night, honestly Up until I made her think that she broke me completely.” 

**

It had been nearly a year, Spencer being subjected to being damn near electrocuted on a daily basis, the sharp blade of a steak knife puncturing his skin in non-fatal areas, even the times where she would hold a gun to his head, making him promise that he was hers. That he wasn’t leaving her again.

Spencer felt no pain anymore. His body was numb, even the deep cuts puncturing his flesh feeling like the average bee-sting from him having it done so much. He had no tears left to cry, his emotions disappearing about a month after his captivation. He was brutally beaten, stabbed, scratched, even burned with lighters to a point where he couldn’t feel. 

The wounds would heal over then be reopened for more sadistic pleasure of rubbing things like salt, dirt, lemon juice, among other things. 

Infection hadn’t killed him yet, so he took it as some sign of faith that he wasn’t meant to die here. 

“You know, kid. I’m really worried about you.” Derek was talking to him today, the male looking up at the ceiling while sucking in a breath. “I know. I’m starting to worry about myself too.. What if the team isn't looking for me? They surely expect me to be completely radio silent to work on my life outside of the team.” His throat was sore, surely from the nights where he’d just scream, scream to get every ounce of pain and hurt built up over the year out. 

“They are looking. You think Garcia would ever give up on you? Come on, kid.” The scolding made Spencer offer a small smile. “You’re right. I mean, P-Penelope would never give up on me.”

Spencer had faced death about a million times before, however this was different. After a year of conditioning and brutality, he never felt so close to death. It seemed inviting, the thought of just.. Maybe drifting off and ending all the suffering there. 

“Kid. I know you are weak but don’t you die on me. On us. What will Hank do without his favorite uncle? Or what about Henry and Michael? Do you really want to make them face losing you? Or your mama, man. Think about her!” Not-Derek was probably the last piece of rationality that Spencer had left. 

“Look. It’s self defense if you kill her now. Think about it, you have proof she subjected you to pain and suffering. Why not get her back? You haven’t slept in weeks, man. Weeks.” The sleep came in small doses, mainly because he had no idea what would happen when he was asleep, unconscious to the vile nature of what she did to him. Best to be awake when a knife is shoved so deep in his shoulder, it hits the bone. 

“W-what?” Was he telling himself to kill her? No, no. Spencer couldn’t do that! He was a good man, just troubled. However the more he thought about it, the more the festering rage built inside of him. Why should he die here? 

That was when the plan was in motion. The next time she came down was a full day later, having water and food along with the knife that she loved to use all too much on the helpless man. “Have you actually gotten sleep?! Spence!” The woman smiled widely while clasping her hands together, eventually grabbing the glass to let him sip from the straw. Spencer was weak, his head slowly bobbing as he looked up at her through his tired eyes. Even with the exhaustion, he knew that he was going to get out of there. Alive or dead, he’d leave that god damn basement. He’d contemplated all his options. If he was weak enough, she’d untie him to accompany him to the bathroom. “Can I uh, go pee?” He asked, voice still hoarse and low.

Seemingly, his plan was working because she was grabbing the knife. “I trust you, Spence, so I’ll let you up.” She mused while offering a smile. “Do you think that you will be good enough to be let up permanently? You’re honestly such a good boy now, I have to grant you some sort of luxury.” 

Yeah. Fucking luxury. So much luxury that he would be able to feel her blood seep into his bruised and battered skin, akin to a hand moisturizer. She made him like this. She created the monster inside of him that was bursting from its confinements. Prison hurt him in ways indescribable but this experience completely ripped out any form of compassion or empathy. There was rage, the burning inside of his chest from the overwhelming emotion.

The minute the ropes were cut, Spencer examined his wrists briefly, waiting for her to cut the ropes on his ankles. The rope burn was deep, dried blood from his violent thrashing decorating the tan restraint and leaving deep marks on his flesh. 

The freedom to move felt so fucking good. However his legs were dreadfully asleep. He didn’t realize that until he tried to stand to ambush his captor, only falling directly on top of her while letting out a yelp. The blade had gone deep into his side from the fall, however the adrenaline coursing through his veins made it tolerable. Rolling off of her body, he was taking in a deep breath before the blade was being torn from his side by his right hand, rolling on top of the stunned woman. 

There was darkness in his eyes, an unfathomable amount of rage that made him look no better than the likes of George Foyet. “Lesson one, don’t trust people.” His words were low, his pupils being blown out as he brought the blade down to slam into her chest. The sounds of agonizing screams filling the room brought a twisted smile to his face. “What? You’re too weak to handle it?! It’s okay! We will fix that!” The past year of pain and suffering was being unleashed back onto the woman who came far too close to killing him. The knife plunged deep into her chest cavity a whopping total of sixty times. There was crimson red all over his hands, face and chest along with the pool on the floor. He’d stabbed her lungs first, making her last few moments agonizing as she drowned in her own blood from the inside. The cries and gurgles had Spencer laughing with glee, continuing to mumble the same twisted phrases he’d heard after being shocked, burned, stabbed, and threatened with a firearm. 

By the time the team had actually gotten there, he’d continued stabbing the lifeless corpse while muttering and laughing. Emily couldn’t even go near him from the fear he’d turn on her. With Luke and Matt pulling him off of her, the male was spitting up blood, the wound from earlier worsening the more the adrenaline wore off. “We need a medic!” Luke was the one yelling, him and Matt carrying Spencer out. 

**

The final pieces of the story had Marianne in shock. She’d heard bits and pieces but seeing Spencer smile while retelling the end of his journey, it was chilling. This wasn’t the sweet man who had entered the room two hours ago. This was a man who lived in perpetual darkness. A man who let a monster consume him in that basement.

“Is that all? Do I need to tell you more details?” The male asked, sitting up straighter.This part he had no problem discussing, making the woman slowly reach under her desk to hit a button. That was when the doors were opening and one of the nurses were coming in. “Alright Dr. Reid, let’s take you back to your room!” She said in a cheery voice, hand gently grabbing his arm to urge him to stand. He didn’t fight back. “I’ll be seeing you next week, Marianne. Maybe we can talk about Cat there too. Wouldn’t you like to know the last victim?” 

“Dr. Reid.” The nurse scolded while leading him out. 

** 

“It’s obvious that Mr. Reid is not well, a year full of torture has left him mentally unstable to the point he is lashing out on everyone he sees. We can’t have this behavior continue. I’m sending him to the Western State Psychiatric Hospital indefinitely.” The judge’s decision had the BAU team gasping from their seats, Penelope’s eyes welling up with tears at the thought of the team losing their best agents and closest friends.

Spencer however had no feelings, instead stone faced as he stared at the woman giving her verdict. 

They’d lost him a long time ago. So long that he had no desire to look back at his team. If they loved him, they would have found him sooner, they would have fought harder to find him. 

He was alone.

He’d always be alone.

[startseeingstars]

Killer Instinct - Charlie Walker (Scream 4)

CH10 🎶 Naive - The Kooks 🎶

Cinema Club held an impromptu meeting in an empty lecture room. Charlie had texted you about it, absolutely ecstatic that Sidney and Gale were making an appearance.

As you walked in, Charlie strided over and you smiled, placing a hand softly on his arm. He looked wired - nervous and you chuckled at how adorable he was. “Look who’s starstruck now,” you teased and he blushed slightly, shooting you a knowing look.

Everyone took a seat, so you followed as Gale and Sidney walked in. Robbie stood ready at the front, his camera light on as he streamed the whole thing.

Charlie cleared his throat and started to make his way to the front, addressing the group with a grin. “Alright, gang. Cinema Club is now in session. Welcome.” He took a sip from his can, letting out a dramatic sigh as the last few people settled into their seats. “To give you a little background—we’re a sanctioned after-school activity, one rung below the glee club and two above Nintendo Wii Fit.” With that, he leaned on the desk next to Robbie, taking his place at the front.

Turning to Sidney, he gestured toward her with a flourish. “Let me just say, to our special guest, Sidney Prescott… we are truly honored.”

Everyone turned to look at Sidney, and Robbie couldn’t contain his excitement. “Forget Jamie Lee Curtis and Linda Blair—this is the ultimate!” he exclaimed. The room erupted in applause, and you couldn’t help but smile, impressed by the moment. It was surreal having Sidney and Gale there, and you remembered how Charlie had practically burst with excitement when he’d texted you about Gale approaching them.

Sidney, looking slightly flustered but smiling, stood up. “Thanks, I guess,” she said, her voice warm but with a hint of discomfort. She then turned her attention to Robbie. “So, uh… you film your entire college experience and post it online?” Her eyebrows lifted in slight confusion as Robbie’s face lit up with a smug grin.

“Everyone will be doing it one day, Sid,” he said confidently.

“It’s kind of the one thing the killer is missing,” Charlie remarked, a thoughtful expression on his face.

“Wait—what do you mean?” Gale interjected, stepping closer to where Sidney sat.

Charlie turned to her, his tone matter-of-fact. “Well, if you want be the new, new version, the killer should be filming the murder.”

Robbie nodded eagerly, backing him up. “Yeah, it’s the natural next step in psycho slasher innovation,” he added, clearly a bit nervous under Gale’s intense stare. You stifled a laugh, recalling how Charlie had confessed that Robbie was fan-girling over Gale. “I mean, you film it all in real-time, then before you get caught, upload it straight to cyberspace.”

Charlie’s eyes lit up as he jumped in, “Making your art as immortal as you.” They really did make a good team. “Not to implicate him,” Charlie quickly added, giving a half-glance at Robbie, who shifted uncomfortably.

Sidney, ever the skeptic, narrowed her eyes and asked, “So, who do you think is behind the murders?” Her question seemed to hang in the air, causing a brief silence. Charlie hesitated for a moment, as though her question had momentarily taken the wind out of him.

“Well, it’s a Stab fanatic, clearly,” Charlie said with a casual wave of his hand. “Working on less of a shriek-quel and more of a scream-make.”

Robbie, ever the detail-oriented one, muttered, “Copyright on those terms, by the way,” as he began pacing the room as you rolled your eyes.

Charlie nodded, acknowledging the point. “’Cause right now, all there are, are remakes. That’s the only horror the studios are greenlighting.” His raspy voice carried a sense of authority that you couldn’t help but admire, and you smiled to yourself as he continued. “I mean, sure, there are still rules—but the rules have changed.” He shot a quick glance at you, and the small smile on your face seemed to fuel his confidence. “The unexpected is the new cliché.”

A few people around the room murmured in agreement, and Robbie picked up where Charlie left off. “Yeah, you gotta have an opening sequence that blows the doors off. Maybe toss in a flashy music video vibe, and the kills? Gotta be way more extreme.”

Charlie nodded, his tone thoughtful. “Modern audiences are too savvy to fall for the old rules.” He turned to Sidney as if explaining the nuances of the genre. “So, the reversals? They become the new standard. In fact, the only sure-fire way to survive a modern horror movie—” He paused, his eyes landing on Kirby. “Is to be gay.”

The two shared a quick smirk, and you couldn’t help but giggle at the perfect timing.

“Why are you so sure the killer’s following the rules of a horror remake?” Gale’s sharp question and imposing presence made Charlie shift uncomfortably, revealing a brief glimpse of his more timid side.

“Well, the original Stab structure is pretty clear,” Robbie said, pacing once again, his voice steady.

“Two kids killed in their house while their parents are away,” Charlie added quickly, picking up on Robbie’s point.

“And then the school’s ‘hot chick’ gets savaged beyond recognition,” Robbie continued, his tone a bit more theatrical.

“We all know where it goes from there,” Charlie said, gesturing outward with a flourish.

“A party,” Sidney chimed in, and Charlie’s eyes lit up as he pointed at her, nodding eagerly.

“Exactly, a party. Guaranteed third-act, main cast bloodbath.” He smiled, clearly excited by the thought.

“Fingers crossed for some nudity this time,” Robbie added with a cheeky grin, earning a few chuckles from the group.

“Okay, so do you know of a party happening?” Gale asked, stepping closer to the boys. She stood right next to Charlie, who visibly shifted, clearly uncomfortable with her proximity.

“Well, there’s Stabathon tonight,” Charlie explained, crossing his arms. “It’s a movie marathon—the seven Stab films, back to back. We do it every year.”

“Tonight?” Sidney asked, her voice tinged with both disgust and concern. “There’s a killer out there, copying the murders from the original movies.”

“I know, it’s pretty wild,” Charlie replied, his eyes still gleaming with excitement, despite the gravity of the situation.

You couldn’t help but smile softly as you watched him. It was easy to forget that Charlie had a quiet confidence when it came to his passions. He might be soft-spoken in general, but here, in his element, you saw the spark of enthusiasm that made him so passionate about this project.

“Well, you have to call it off,” Sidney insisted, her voice firm, but Robbie just pursed his lips, unmoved.

“It’s a Friday night. I’m sure we’re not the only party in Woodsboro,” he replied casually.

Gale, clearly growing impatient, leaned in. “Okay, where is this circle jerk taking place?” Her tone was sharp, and you could feel the tension radiating off her. You glanced at Charlie, who seemed to shrink under the pressure.

“So, who’s ready for the Q and A?” Charlie’s attempt to change the subject fell flat, only making Gale more irritated.

“No, no. I want a location,” she pressed, her gaze intense as she demanded an answer.

Charlie shifted uncomfortably, glancing around the room. “Well, it’s kind of an underground thing… email invites, pretty secret,” he said, trying to politely sidestep the question. But Gale’s expression hardened, unamused.

“What, you’re not going to tell me? We’re working together, remember?” She raised an eyebrow, clearly incredulous. Charlie and Robbie’s silence spoke volumes.

“Ready for that Q and A?” Charlie repeated, his voice a little too eager. Gale just scoffed and lightly took Sidney’s arm as they turned to leave.

“Fuck you.” Her last words in the air before they left. The room was still but Charlie’s mischievous crooked smile burned into the crevice of your mind as he glanced at you - eyes shining.

“That was awesome,” He grinned with a small chuckle. Even he had to admit that being sworn at by Gale Weathers was an honour in a league of itself.

[llunapastell-reads]

ᴄʜ. ᴏɴᴇ || ʀᴇᴅ ʟɪɴᴇ (ʜ.ʜᴊ) ──

𝗣𝗔𝗜𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚 :･ hwang hyunjin x fem reader (hyunjin pov) 𝗚𝗘𝗡𝗥𝗘 :･ angst | romance | hurt/comfort  𝗖𝗛. 𝗪.𝗖 :･ 4.1k 𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦 :･ profanity | alcohol | depression | mentions of break ups | mentions of cheating

"So, what do you have against New Year’s Eve?“ "It makes me reflect on the past, forces me to consider the future... I don’t have very pleasant thoughts about either."

𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗘 :･ reposting this story to the sb so just roll with the new year's theme ok ...

✧.* 𝗣𝗟𝗘𝗔𝗦𝗘 𝗩𝗜𝗘𝗪 𝗠𝗔𝗜𝗡 𝗠𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧 & 𝗗𝗜𝗦𝗖𝗟𝗔𝗜𝗠𝗘𝗥 𝗕𝗘𝗙𝗢𝗥𝗘 𝗜𝗡𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗧𝗜𝗡𝗚

I hate nights like this.

The sky appears cloudless and it’s softening into a dim shade of indigo, much like an evening after an intense thunderstorm has passed through. There is a stillness in the air and the lingering scent of rush hour traffic makes my stomach churn.

The sky was just as clear when I saw her for the last time. That stupid girl, whom I shared an apartment and bed with for almost two years. A home that we both deserted after I discovered the truth. 

“Hello? Hyunjin, did you hear a single word I just said?” My best friend’s voice tears me from my brooding recollections. 

“I’m sorry Felix, can you repeat that again?”

Much of our conversations are like this these days. I know I should try harder to push the dejected thoughts from my mind and be more present in reality, especially around the person who happily took me in when my relationship came to an abrupt end. But when the evening is veiled in this color, I can’t stop tormenting myself with all the details of the night I left her.

Felix sighs and mirrors my position against the railing of his balcony. He knows where my mind is and by the look in his eyes, I realize he’s decided to spare me the lecture. Felix has the patience of a Saint and I often feel unworthy of his devoted friendship. I have put him through a lot these past few months, and the least I can do is pay attention to what he’s asking me.

“Tonight is Chan and Changbin’s party and I promised them I’d be there a bit early. I was hoping you would come with me to the apartment to set up…” the blonde trails off.

“…And also, they didn’t hear from Kira. Not like we wanted her to come, anyways. What I mean is— she won’t be there tonight.” 

I can only bear to smile at him meekly. I hate the sound of her name. 

Choi Kira, they all used to fawn after her in the dorms. We had been friendly throughout our time in university, but I never gave her a second thought until the end of our junior year. My younger self would find me pathetic for sulking over someone who I once considered so vapid and boring.

“Of course I will help you. That's my duty as your best friend, isn’t it?” I flash a boxy grin towards my friend, but It doesn't seem he buys my forced smile. He understands how difficult it has become to be in social situations nowadays. People love to pry, they want to gossip about if the pretty picture of my life they painted in their minds resembles the one I am actually living. They will ask about their perfect Kira, and I will attempt to contort the truth into something less humiliating. 

I am not sure how I can dilute discovering my girlfriend was cheating on me with our English professor into a more digestible story, but I suppose it doesn’t matter. They will believe whatever bullshit I sell them.

I mull over a list of excuses while we lock up and walk to Chan and Changbin’s shared apartment. Ever since we were freshmen in college, those two made it their mission to ring in the New Year in the most obnoxious way possible: a blowout out celebration with enough booze to poison every citizen in Seoul. Growing up together has cemented our friendship into a brotherhood, which is the only thing motivating me to leave the solace of my studio. And of course, the promise of not having to go clubbing with them for three weeks if I showed my face. 

For them, my brothers, who have carried my pitiful existence without any trace of resentment through these last months of winter, I will attempt to resemble my old self. I've never found it difficult before to put on a show of friendliness and amusement, but recently, the mask wears heavy on my features. To be amongst a crowd, amongst my best friends, and still feel like I’m stuck in solitude— barely visible through the fog that is my own fucked up illusion of loneliness. They just can’t see it. They have never been where I am, and I hope that never changes. But that doesn’t stop my friends from reaching for me, doing the best they can to fish me out of it— even with blind hands. And for their endless attempts to liberate me, I am forever grateful. 

Felix, Chan and I sling back a shot of whiskey with the promise of a fresh start in the new year. My lips curve up at them and their optimism. My arms hang over their shoulders, wishing the physical contact could transfer some of that imagined hopefulness into my own body. 

If only I could will it into existence. If only that could keep the fog from thickening.

— ✧.*

Thank god the mindless babble has paused for a moment as everyone turns their attention to the direction of loud clatter. I relish in the sliver of peace the commotion brings, finally the bogus smile I’ve been forcing can falter. I feel a bit of gratitude towards the woman who has tripped over the carpet and taken a few plates down with her; she’s abetted my escape from another stale conversation with acquaintances I don’t care about.

“Wow, I didn’t expect to see her tonight...” Jeongin whispers next to me while we watch the woman collect herself from the scene she caused. I think I recognize her from Kim Hyemin’s Statistics course, but we never spoke. I only ever took notice of her taste in Literature because she always had her face buried in a book. 

“I heard she got dumped by Seungmin’s old roommate at the beginning of the fall semester. No one really knows the details but apparently, it ended really ugly.” My younger friend continued, his concentration moving from the disheveled woman to the cocktail umbrella in his drink.

“How ugly?” I ask without taking my focus away from her.

“Like, took time off of school because she went ‘away...’ isn’t gonna graduate on time, that kind of ugly.” 

My heart twitches at his words, her shallow gaze is very familiar to me. The glassiness of her darkened eyes hints that her mind often spends time in a faraway place, maybe because reality is too harsh to engage in. Felix always points out his ability to tell my thoughts are reeling just by the look on my face. I study her appearance and understand what my friend must see in me. 

“S’okay bout the dishes, babes— just come ‘ere and meet my brothers!” Changbin lunges his arm around my shoulder with a little too much vigor. I can smell the whiskey and coke on his breath and I can’t help but roll my eyes at his drunken enthusiasm. His glazed stare is fixated on the bleach blonde attached to the stumbling woman’s arm— must be this week’s fuck buddy, telling by the way she returns his fervent gawk. As the two girls approach us, I can’t find the will to shift my attention away from the person the blonde is dragging behind her. Her tousled fringe accentuates the hollowness behind her eyes and it makes my lungs constrict. It feels as if I’m staring into a mirror, I see so much of my own reflection in her exhausted demeanor. That sullen expression is like an open book, one I have come to memorize not by choice but infliction.

The light graze of Jeongin’s fingers on my wrist pulls me from my own reeling. “Earth to Hyunjin— this is Ryu and Y/N, old classmates from university. We were all in the same dormitory, y’know with Seungmin and Jeno…” the younger boy’s words trail off as Y/N pierces him with a quick glare, her petite frame stiffening at the sound of her ex lover’s name. 

Changbin cuts the thick atmosphere with a sway and stumble while I attempt to hold his larger body upright. “S’glad you both could make it! It’s almost midnight and I made Chan save us the best seats to watch the fireworks,” he snickers. Jeongin and Ryu escort our tipsy host to the terrace with myself and Y/N lingering behind them. 

“Do you drink?” I ask apprehensively. She pauses her stride and examines me before exhaling a deep sigh. 

“Tonight I do,”

Glinting fluorescent lights of blue and pink guide us to the abandoned kitchen of the apartment. I make us a stiff drink and watch as she gulps it down with earnestness. “You look like you’re having as much fun as I am being here,” I tease.

A dry chuckle escapes through her full lips. “Am I that easy to read?” 

More than you realize. I can’t stop the smile from forming; our masks won’t work in here, this brief bubble of solidarity, of knowing without saying. A pleasant silence hangs in the air for a moment— until our attention is drawn to the boisterous chatter that begins to approach us. We both suck in a sharp breath.

“Back to reality?” She smiles up at me for the first time tonight. I drink in her features and usher us into the real world again. 

— ✧.*

“10…. 9…. 8…. 7….” 

The entire terrace harmonizes like a choir as we countdown the last seconds of the year in unison. Felix and Chan grip the railing of the building with anticipation in front of me, while Changbin tightens his hold on the small waist pressed against his body. I grimace, shifting myself closer to Jeongin and Y/N to avoid witnessing the sloppy kiss that will take place in moments’ time. The packed space erupts in jubilation then, with ecstatic cheers and applause dulled momentarily by colorful explosions in the sky before us. 

I’m not sure what possesses me in that moment, but when I turn to her, my body reacts against my will. Maybe it was the way the vibrant colors of fireworks glistened against the tears streaming down her face; or how her widened eyes bore into mine and didn’t dare look away once the connection was made. My hand intrinsically grasps her smaller digits, and when she doesn’t cringe or pull away, I lead us from the terrace and out the front doors without looking back.

We’re half way down the building steps when her hand tugs at mine sheepishly. “Hy-Hyunjin, please slow down,” Y/N’s feeble voice hardly echoes in the concrete stairway.

The entire time we’ve been moving, I have been suspended in a daze; I cannot make sense of the gnawing in my chest cavity as her tear stained cheeks flashes through my mind. She stands at my eye level from the step above me, slender fingers still laced in my own, a tremble just barely detectable.

I watch her expression turn tearful and my limbs move on their own again— cupping her face with my free hand, I beg “please, no more tears. Not right now.” I don’t hesitate to wipe the wetness from her eye, and she leans into my touch, gently nodding her head in silent agreement. 

Our pursuit continues until we reach a familiar establishment a couple blocks away from the apartment: a shabby, 24-hour diner that has been a habitual stop after late night escapades with the guys. A flushed shade of pink has bloomed under Y/N’s skin and I’m unsure if it’s a result of the winter air’s caress, or embarrassment from the smirk I can’t contain while watching her shove bites of pancakes into her mouth. 

She takes a noticeable gulp and clears her throat. “What are we… doing here?” She questions from across the booth against the window. 

I stare blankly at her. I try my best to keep a neutral tone so she can’t pick up on my own befuddled thoughts around the same question. “It just seemed like you needed to get out of there. And for some reason, I wanted to go with you.” 

There was truth to that at least. How insane is it for strangers to share one knowing look and allow that to embolden them to run away, hand in hand? Y/N squints out the frosted window, considering my words. Her eyes flash back to mine and hold my gaze for a long moment before sighing out a ‘thank you’ between parted lips. 

“What do you have against New Year’s Eve?” I probe before taking a sip of coffee. 

She must find my question amusing because the corners of her mouth creep upwards into a crooked smile. With some hesitation, she answers “I don’t know— I guess, this holiday makes me reflect on the past, forces me to consider the future. I don’t have very pleasant thoughts about either.” Her eyes flutter closed in reflection. “I have had some… tough times, to say the least, this year. I thought by now I would feel different. Feel better.” She scoffs at her own words.

I turn her admission over in my mind before responding. What she has shared resonates deep within me. Leaning my head against the chilled glass, I add “It’s quite funny, the fashion in which we celebrate the new year. The signifying of a ‘new’ chapter— a clean slate. As if the change of the date could really alter our lives when the clock hits midnight. It’s just another day, you will feel the same as you did the night before. For some of us, that’s not much of a reason to celebrate.”

I swallow thickly at how cynical I sound aloud, like a scorned victim who wants everyone to drown along with him. My transparency makes me feel pitiful, yet Y/N does not seem taken aback by the crudeness of my words. There is only silence exchanged between us, but her empathetic expression conveys all I need to know. I exhale my relief.

But I am flustered for a different reason all together now— she pulled that unfiltered confession straight out of me with just a stare; the inkling of her smile and the fluttering of thick, dark lashes was all she needed to disarm me. 

“But doesn’t a little piece of you wish to feel differently?” The inward battle she endures is painted all over her features— exhausted by the affliction of the universe, but still so unyielding for her heart to become callous. She’s courageous, a lot tougher than I have ever been; I stomped out that flicker of faith as harshly as I could in the beginning of my grief. What was the point of looking for goodness in the world when I couldn’t have it, when it couldn’t reach me? When everything I tasted didn’t take the bitterness away.

“I want the idea of a new day to fill me with optimism— but my logic won’t quite allow that, like my mind is fighting against my heart,” Hiding the blush behind her hands, she can’t hold back how comical she finds her own embarrassment. “God, is that childish? Why does it feel stupid to still want to hope?” 

It pangs again, my heart remembers all too well the feelings she is conjuring in me. I try to defuse this internal intrusion by laughing too, the toothy grin reaching my eyes. “In this world, It’s admirable and maybe even a lil’ foolish— because the mind and heart can hardly ever cooperate.” Y/N raises her glass to my eye level and we cheers to that: to our feeble brains and the forlorn heart, fickle fuckers they are.

The mood shifts unexpectedly afterwards, her light expression softening into something timid— something vulnerable. Nimble fingers fidget with the corner of her napkin as her low tone just barely registers from across the table, “I don’t know how you knew what I needed before I did, but thank you, Hyunjin– this means a lot to me... Do you think we were friends in a past life?”

I can make out a semblance of my own smile reflected in the dark liquid of my coffee mug as I peer down into its blackness. I won’t allow myself to spiral now, I refuse to process how alarming it is for a stranger to move me as deeply as she has, so I deflect, “Maybe, cus I knew you were cool– that's why I brought you to where all the brooding kids like us come to hang out.”

Y/N’s bright laughter rings distinctly amongst the commotion of the restaurant, her eyes creasing into crescent moons while she beams, “We are kindred spirits, you and I.”

And then it’s all too soon that the liquid in our cups turns cold; the night lulls to a hum as it settles around us and we reluctantly prepare to brave the elements outside the solace of the diner. 

— ✧.*

My lips are practically frozen when we reach Y/N’s apartment complex. Seoul’s frigid wind stings my face as we push against its force, but I unclasp the top buttons of my coat anyways, fully welcoming the numbness— anything to distract from the shorter frame beside me, the way my fingers itch to seek comfortable warmth in the hand that brushes against my own while we walk. An unintentional gesture that is stirring a foreign kind of frenzy within me, and Y/N seems to sense my discomfort.

“Hyunjin, can I ask you a question?” She doesn’t meet my gaze when she speaks and a piece of me is glad for that. “Do you believe… only time can heal all?”

Her question stifled my thoughts for a minute. The answer doesn’t take too long to come to me, and I hope my candidness doesn’t deepen her hardship. “I think time is a small part of it. It alleviates— as do many other things. Perhaps healing is a combination of time passing, distraction, enduring; just trying your best to fill yourself up with anything at all until you feel full, or whole, again.” 

The fluorescent street light illuminates her pensive look, and I trace faded constellations of freckles adorning the rosy cheeks in front of me. Her rigid stance reduces to something more placid under my stare. How small she must feel standing against my taller stature.  The corner of her lip remains tucked under her teeth until I force myself to connect with her fixed gaze again.

“What do you do then, to fill yourself up?” Y/N smiles up at me hollowly. She is a person made of contradictions, it seems; what a lovely, twinkling sound her voice makes, it does not match the spiritless words that spill from plush lips. 

I run my fingers through my dark hair and move my focus to the black sky above us as I speak, “I compose and listen to music; drink a little too much some days and write poetry. I paint. I sketch— I fuck.” I catch the hitch in her breathing and chuckle at her embarrassment. Her body takes a brave step forward, curious eyes searching for something within my own. 

“And does that work? Are you healing?” 

I wish I could lie and give the answer Y/N wants to hear. The truth of the matter is, I have seen myself take great strides forward toward happier days— and then one random morning, I might not have the will to even crawl out of bed. More than just my heart was broken by my breakup; my ego, my confidence, my ability to trust have all been marred. She is owed some honesty, so I pick out the most important notes to share from my experience.

“Honestly, I don’t think healing is linear. I have some truly good days, and some bad ones. I will admit there is slow progress— but god am I impatient,” I laugh and pray she can’t hear how I ache, “and god, does the loneliness tear me up sometimes.”

I sense my statement causes her no distress because Y/N simply purses her lips and nods like I had just confirmed her hypothesis. We stand in the cold, with the weight of this burden of truth on our shoulders. I’m taken by surprise when a melodic giggle disturbs the bit of silence.

“Being around you made me feel so light for the first time in what seems like forever,” my pulse quickens and she offers me no opportunity to interject. “Thank you, Hyunjin. It’s been awhile since I’ve hung out with someone and didn’t feel… alone, if that makes sense.” She peers up at me through her lashes, gauging my expression.

“On those days you feel lonely, I want to do the same for you as you did for me tonight.” Her eyes darted from mine, bashful at her own unexpected tenderness. When she attempts to escape through the double doors of the building, I catch her wrist and pull her back to me, my shallow breath tickling the back of her hair. 

She has done more than she will ever know, and more than I’m brave enough to admit. 

“Can I say one last thing?” My pitch heightens and I don’t care if she can hear the excitement in my voice, all my senses are buzzing being close to her like this. As she turns to face me, I see I’m not the only one enchanted.

This girl must possess the ability to read my mind because before the idea of kissing her can completely overwhelm me, delicate fingertips graze my jawline and ground me to reality once more. I didn’t have a single clue as to what I wanted to say before she slipped away, but that doesn’t matter in this moment any longer– there is nothing we have to speak into existence as her lips ghost over mine, silently seeking permission to succumb to our inexplicit desire. 

Kissing a stranger shouldn’t feel like this. It shouldn’t make all my reason null and void, or engulf me in a soothing reverie that I embrace when I take her lips in mine more fervently. This feeling shouldn’t transcend gratification and fill me with more, but as she cradles my face with a gentle grasp and my arm wraps around her neck to bring our bodies closer, I’m somehow convinced this is right— that it is as it should always be with Y/N.

Her fingers tangle themselves in my hair and I let myself bloom under the intoxicating warmth of her touch. I smirk against her when her lips part, allowing me entrance to deepen the kiss. She tastes like mocha and desperation, the flavors becoming even sweeter while I push her into the brick pillar of the building, failing to restrain the need to have her pressed against me. My movements are more raw than I intend, but I can tell she is quite pleased with my undoing, based on how her thumbs smooth loving circles into my skin.

A delicious tickle makes me hum, imagining the image of her frame caged between my own and the cool facade— how lost in this moment we must appear. Y/N returns my intensity and claws at my collar, as if our forms could possibly meld together with just a little more fervor. Her body arches, chasing my caress down her side and I can’t suppress the groan that slips into her mouth when I feel her shiver against my body. A blistering kind of heat builds in my stomach, listening to the soft, wet sounds our lips make while we struggle for dominance. Who craves who more, It's impossible to say.

I think this moment will be burned into me, I have never felt pleasure so tangible and potent. I’ll remember with clarity how the huffs of white smoke blurred my vision when we reluctantly disconnected, gasping for air, under the harsh gleam of lampposts. Y/N giggles in between quick inhales and tries to cool her reddened cheeks with the palm of her hand. “Did you want to say you needed to come upstairs?” 

My chuckle comes out breathy and ragged, “yeah, I feel kinda dizzy— I should maybe lie down for a while.”

The corner of her eyes crinkle when she smiles and my chest swells with adoration. I want to savor the way her smaller hand molds into mine as we hurry through the brick archway together. A sensation I long locked away washes over me then; I can’t pinpoint it exactly, but it feels a lot like resolution— a wishful promise this night is just the beginning. 

The idea of tomorrow shines a bit brighter in the back of my mind.

[slimesam]

The Nun and her Familiar (Gun x Reader)

Chap 2

Summary: Your third-year student is now summoning your own familiar and somehow you have summoned a literary hot-as-hell demon as your familiar. Your familiar, He is a sadistic man that loves to see your struggles when you're fighting monsters, he loves to see you squirm as he goes near you and especially when he mentions your "meat" is his favorite part.

He wonders when will give in to him

A/N: I am back! I am so burned out/too busy and out of ideas lol. as this also just fanfiction is just on a whim that I made! I probably shoud go back to drawing and stack every paragraph on this story. (being 3rd year in 2nd sem kicked my gear into lazy mode and busy catching up)

Warning: Implied NSFW(?)

________________________

Both of them arrive at the grand door beside the door there is a plate that is written ‘Place the Gifts and Letter for Head Priest DG here’ with an arrow that points down and you can see a lot of gifts, flowers, and letters being placed under a metal plate.

Y/n prepares herself to knock on the door, and Gun is at her back staring at Y/N's figure since they have left the summoning room.

'Her physic is definitely different from what I remember from those past centuries those nun/clerics are too fragile. As they are basically so easy to break when they are in a field battle as they mostly serve as buffer and healer.' Gun admires his new master body while comparing her to those weaklings that he has fought with centuries or decades ago.

Knock

Knock

Knock

“Come in”

Creeeeeek

"Good afternoon Head priest DG" Y/n open the door gently as she doesn't want to disturb him. Entering the room with Gun, and bow to the head priest as a sign of respect. While Gun merely just stood beside her staring intensely at DG like he is pinning point on why does he look familiar.

The pink hair idol looking man name DG smiles as he put down his paper work "Ha, Miss L/N I have been informed by your advisor that you need to resolve the issues of your familiar" ignoring on the demons intense stare

Y/N simply nod at DG and explain the situation

.

.

.

.

.

After Y/N explains the details, Head priest DG tapping his pointing fringer rapidly on the table thinking on how he would instruct Y/N problem.

And finally he stopped tapping.

"Miss Y/N, why don't you leave this problem to me I can process the form of this registration without any problem." He smiles

"Also can you leave first as I have to discuss something with your "familiar"" DG said to Y/N as he glares at Gun.

Y/N look at back and forth between them thinking that DG want to lecture a Demon and put a rule during his stay in the PTJ realm.

'Hopefully, they don't fight' Y/N thought as she leave the room.

Making sure the door closes tightly the two talk.

"It's been a while since we have met DG, ha no should I say James Lee the archangel." Gun smirk as he turns the door nob.

Dg smile turns into a shit grin like he gonna troll the crap out of Gun "Gun-ssi, You should already know already that I don’t go with the James Lee anymore, but you should hurry up and catch up with your new master. Wouldn't want her to steal away from some of her classmates right?"

Gun tsked as he remembered that his new master Y/n may probably get mobbed by his new fans due to him being a unique summon.

"Tell me what are you warning me about? "DG""

DG merely huffed at the remarked of Gun and leaned at his chair. "I would like to remind you to be on the watch list of the officials, so don't be reckless as you're gonna drag me into your problem."

"Of course of course, I won't do it out in the open with evidence DG. You must have forgotten that I keep my hands clean and legal." Gun slicked his hair back showing how confident and arrogant in his skills, turned his back from the pink hair priest and turned the doorknob.

"Before I go, I remember why they say that you are a demon dressed in angel from those times "DG "..... did you think that you can fool me on your tapping to cover those sinful sounds when this devil has sensitive hearing." Gun smirks as he goes out and closes the door.

UGK

A choking sound can be heard under the table of Dg.

"My my my Miss Kang don't worry about that, just keep on going, my dear"

Mmm?!?

"Yes yes, it's still safe to keep on going. He is merely teasing as he is also an unstated creature. Ha, surely no one will come here until the evening meeting… Why don't you sit on my knee, my dear." DG petting something? Someone? under his table.

Y/N being a good master she waits for Gun while she's staring outside the window, she still needs to show him around the campus and set some boundaries when she is in class or on fields. She doesn't want anyone to mob her for her unique familiar or just have him scaring the crap out of everyone from his majestic and terror aura.

"-Sensitive hearing"

Hearing the door closed, snaps her thoughts and looked at Gun who is approaching her.

"Ha! Gun! Did head priest DG talk to you about how you will settle?" Y/N rubs her neck nervously as she can feel the intense stare from her familiar.

In the spur of the moment, Gun brought his head beside Y/N's ear and whispered in a deep gritty voice. "My dear mistress, It's nothing to worry about."

Y/N backed away quickly while covering her right ear, blushing like a tomato at the Gun's whisper.