#i never think about the process of writing so much as just daydream all the stuff i want to write oops

[ghostlycod]

“I have this scene in my head for my fic that I really love but i don’t feel like writing all of the other stuff to get to it.”

I see this comment like 5 times a day in fic writing spaces lol

a scene that you don’t want to write is a scene you don’t want to read. don’t write stuff you don’t want to read.

me, personally: wait until the scenes that get you to that first initial scene you were excited about are just as interesting as that scene too. it won’t be the first, second, or third thing you think of. if u have a scene you really want to write, write that, and keep writing only those exciting scenes that come to you. eventually you have a million interesting scenes for your fic and they become puzzle pieces for you to arrange and then eventually the strings come together and you realize you really do have an interesting way to get to that original scene, and you’re just as excited to write it, if you haven’t already written it when you were brainstorming other scenes earlier in the writing process that you didn’t even realize could carry your story like that.

[mariasont]

That anon was living under a rock because your smut fics (all of your fics tbh!) I reread wayyy to many times, lol. But if you’re taking smut requests, I’d love to see more bimbo!reader and Hotch! I can’t get enough.

I’ll take anything!! But more specifically, their first time, all of that built up tension (that you write so perfectly!) finally breaks!

Anyways, I never send in requests but I saw a window of opportunity and had to take it, haha.

Third Date Rule - A.H

summary: the third date proves to be worth the wait when you and hotch experience your first time together. pairings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader warnings: 18+ MDNI, sexy time, fingering, oral fem receiving, p in v, they did not in fact wrap it before tapping it and it's not really discussed so yeah idk about that one, aftercare wc: 7.7k

This was so overdue.

Technically, it's only been three dates. Technically.

But if you count all the years you'd known him, the months spent daydreaming about this moment, the weeks of waiting while he played the world's longest game of restraint, then really, you should have had him naked ages ago.

And if Aaron (which still feels like a thrill to say — Aaron — because you're dating now and you can freely call him that) wasn't so stubborn and noble and insufferably gentlemanly, you would have.

But tonight was finally the night. The third date. The sacred, hallowed, much-debated, universally accepted gateway to getting into the sheets. And yes, okay, maybe you barely survived the wait without jumping his bones, but that's hardly relevant now. The point is, you did it.

And now you're in his lap, his tie wound tight around your fingers, his tongue deep in your mouth, and gods, if this night didn't end with him inside you, you might actually die. 

Like, literally. Heart failure. Sudden death.

This was premeditated. At least, for you. You moisturized like your life depended on it, doused yourself in perfume that could be classified as a controlled substance, and selected a bra that made your tits look so insane, it might actually be illegal in some states.

And then you spent an embarrassing amount of time picking the perfect dress that says oh, I'm classy, but also please take me home and rip this off with your teeth.

You pull away, just enough to see him. To take in the slow bloom of pink trailing from his cheeks to the tips of his ears, the way his pupils are so wide they’ve all but erased the brown of his eyes. And his lips — swollen and red from kissing you — part like he was debating how bad it would be to drag you right back in. You wouldn’t mind.

“Aaron,” you sigh, fingers burying into his hair, marveling at how absurdly soft it is, how freely he lets you have this piece of him. “We should go to bed.”

For a second, he locks up. Not hesitation but calibration, a body processing desire so sharp it might break him. You feel it in the way his chest expands, in the quiet exhale through his nose.

"This wasn't my plan for the night," he murmurs, voice softer now, not strained, but steeped in something much gentler. Something careful. "I wasn't —," He shakes his head, like the whole concept doesn’t sit right in his mouth. "I don't want you to think this is just —,"

"Sex?"

You can see the way he wants to argue, like he wants to carve the word out of the air and replace it with something that means more.

"Yes."

You can’t stop the stupid, lovestruck smile pulling at your lips. Maybe it’s the wine from dinner finally working its magic. (It’s not.) Maybe it’s the way he’s looking at you, all serious and earnest, like you’re the only thing in existence, and if he blinks, you might vanish. (It definitely is.)

A laugh bubbles up, light and giddy, body not knowing what to do with all this adoration. You lean in, pressing a kiss to his jaw, just to see if he’ll let you. (He does.)

“Are you serious? If you just wanted sex, you wouldn’t have spent actual years pretending my very dedicated, very expertly executed attempts to seduce you weren’t happening.”

His brow arches, but you see it for what it is — a stall. “Expertly, huh?”

"Remember that heatwave last summer? When I just had to eat a popsicle at my desk every afternoon?"

His eyes darken like the memory is playing in high definition behind his eyes.

"I remember."

"Do you?" Your fingers slip beneath his color. “Because —” You tilt your head. “I always seemed to finish them standing in front of your office —"

You don't even get to finish your sentence. 

One second, you’re speaking, the next, you’re airborne. Lifted clean off the couch, legs locking around his waist automatically, arms thrown around his shoulders like you planned this all along.

You didn’t, but you wish you had. 

Not that it matters, because he’s already moving, already walking straight to the bedroom.

You bury your smile against his jaw, letting your breath tickle against the shell of his ear as another giggle slips out. It couldn’t be helped.

"I really hope you know," you whisper, “that I am, like, stupidly excited for this. Like, counting down the days excited.”

Aaron sets you down on the mattress gently, but his body doesn’t follow right away, hovering over you.

"You're not making this easy for me."

You ignore him because you’re much more distracted by how insanely soft his sheets are. That was your first thought when your back hits the mattress, hair fanning across the pillows.

For a fleeting second, you wonder if he’ll catch the scent of your perfume tomorrow. If he’ll notice the ghost of you when he lays down alone.

Your second was that this is so not the time nor place to get emotional. 

But this is his space. His bed. His room.

It’s tidy, but somehow not sterile, everything having its place, but not afraid to be used. A book sits on the nightstand, a book mark sticking out mid-thought. A photo frame faces the bed, though from this angle you struggle to see what’s inside.

There’s his suit jacket from yesterday, draped over the back of a chair, a little rumpled. 

And maybe it's silly, but you feel weirdly honored to be here.

You should probably be processing this moment, what it means to be here, with him, like this. Instead, you take a second to admire the view.

The lamp softens the sharp lines of his face, making him look almost gentle — which is funny, considering how you hoped to be thoroughly destroyed by him.

Something expands inside you, stretching against the walls of your chest, something too big, something that terrifies you.

So you do what you do best. You deflect.

“I can’t believe I’m about to sleep with my boss.”

He doesn’t even try to hide his exasperation, his forehead dropping into the crook of your neck. “Sweetheart—,”

"What?" You giggle, letting your fingers slide through his hair, letting your nails rake lightly over his scalp. "It's true."

His sigh is nothing short of pained, but then he kisses your cheek anyway, then your jaw, then the corner of your mouth. You were starting to feel like each was a thinly veiled attempt to tame you.

"Please don't phrase it like that."

"Yes, Mr. Hotchner." 

Every self-satisfied thought evaporates the moment he kisses you – really kisses you.

It’s not just a meeting of lips but a focused intensity, tongue sweeping inside your mouth and suddenly nothing before this mattered, because clearly, clearly, every kiss you’ve ever had was just practice for this one. 

Your body responds before your mind can catch up, spine arching and he doesn’t stop you, just kisses you with a hunger that makes teasing obsolete, that makes breathing secondary to the way he’s taking from you, giving to you, all at once.

His lips wander, dragging across your jaw like he’s leaving invisible ink behind, pressing something permanent into your skin.

You hope you’ll wake up tomorrow and still feel him there.

Your hands move to the nape of his neck, drawn by craving, by the need circling inside you like a ribbon of fire.

It stretches outward, licking at your skin, threading through your veins. His hands hold you still, spanning over your rib. His breath fans over your pulse, and you swear he can feel how fast it’s racing.

You should be gloating right now. This is, after all, exactly what you wanted, what you worked for. A biting remark sits on the top of your tongue, but then his mouth moves, and he finds it.

That wicked, traitorous little dip beneath your jaw that turns your entire brain into pink, glittering static. He pauses, listening, feeling, before sealing his mouth over it again, tongue dragging over the sensitive skin like he’s testing a theory that he already knows the answer to.

Your fingers clench in his hair, a startled sound choking in your throat before you can stop it. And then, the bastard laughs. Not sweet, not kind, but low and sharp and smug because he knows exactly what he’s done. 

You had the upper hand. Past tense.

"There it is," he murmurs, pressing another kiss there, his tongue flattening over it just to make you squirm. "You want to know how I figured this out?"

You hum, or try to. But it’s pathetic because you’re barely conscious, every cell fried to uselessness by his mouth.

He mimics you, just to be an ass about it, mocking the dazed little sound like he hasn’t just reduced you to it. "You always reached for it when I looked at you too long."

Your mouth opens. Closes.

"Or," he continues, "when I stood too close to you at the coffee machine. You'd fidget, tuck your hair behind your ear like you weren't thinking about it." His exhale burns against your pulse. "Cute."

You gasp, a little offended, mostly turned on. "Oh, wow. Profiling me? At work? That's, like, wildly unethical."

"Didn't need to," he murmurs. "You were practically begging me to figure you out."

His mouth is perfect in the way lightning is perfect – striking, searing, and completely out of your control. It’s perfect enough that you can pretend not to hear him.

He sucks, slow and hard enough to tear a sound from your lips before you even know it’s there, something that feels like vulnerability in its purest form. Something you would never willingly give him.

His laugh is quiet, wrecking, as he pulls back, lips slick with your skin. "That good?"

His mouth makes quick work, over your collarbone, down, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses, down, branding every inch of skin he can reach. 

He stops at the neckline of your dress, and suddenly, you can't think about anything except how it's still on.

You want to strip it off, want to offer yourself up as a willing sacrifice, but you’re well aware that if you try, if you even reach, he’ll stop you. Or worse, he'll make you wait. He'll slow you down, draw it out just to watch you squirm because patience is his weapon of choice, because he lives for making you suffer.

His teeth graze the swell of your breast, just enough to sting, and whatever fragile grip you had on yourself disintegrates on impact. Your hands fumble blindly for his face, fingers shaking, needing to see his eyes.

"Please, Aaron.” It’s an exhale, a prayer. “Need you."

You see the ripple of tension along his throat. And for one tiny, blinding second you think this is when he finally snaps, abandons his tolerance and just takes you.

"You don't know how long I've wanted you like this," he rumbles. "I'm going to take my time."

You whine, frustration bleeding from your fingertips where they clutch his shoulders, fingers digging in like you can physically push him into moving faster.

He does not move faster. 

His hands slide up to the straps of your dress, as he drags it down with all the urgency of a leisurely Sunday stroll. 

Your mind is halfway through an exceptionally justified complaint about how slow he is moving when he folds the dress.

Folds it.

Sets it aside. Doesn't toss it.

And that may be the hottest thing he's ever done.

Because you know he knows. He’s always known. Known that your things aren’t just things — that your dresses, your heels, your overpriced lip glosses aren’t frivolous, aren’t some shallow indulgence, but tiny, curated pieces of you.

He has listened to you decide between two pairs of shoes that are, for all intent and purposes, identical. He knows jasmine is mysterious and vanilla is flirty, knows that you’ll debate your right to own the same three shades of pink. 

And instead of dismissing it, instead of rolling his eyes (though he does that too), he folds your dress. As if it matters.

You stare at him, somewhere between melting and spontaneous combustion, and he simply raises a brow. “Something wrong?”

"No." You shake your head for emphasis, voice a little too weak to get the point across. "Just thinking I might have to marry you."

His hands settle at your waist, fingers tracing over the pink lace like he’s trying to process it, like if he touches it enough times, it’ll confirm that this is actually happening and not some cruel illusion. His thumb brushes the scalloped edge, breathing shallow. You were pretty sure he’s currently having a full-scale existential meltdown over lingerie.

"Agreed," he murmurs, distracted, hooded eyes still glued to your chest. "I think the courthouse opens at eight."

Your giggle stutters, hiccups right out of you, because his hands are suddenly everywhere, roaming with no clear plan, just a man in crisis over how much of you he wants to touch first. His palms skate over your stomach, down your thighs, up over your breasts.

"So, this is all I had to do to convince you to do what I want?"

His mouth follows, retracting the path of his hands, rewriting, reworking, perfecting – because apparently, the first time wasn’t good enough, wasn’t thorough enough. 

"You think this is what did it for me?" His voice is hushed. "You could've walked into my office six months ago and told me to get on one knee.” A kiss, open-mouthed, starving, just below your navel. “I would've done it."

Six months ago. You don't know if you believed that.

Except now you're spiraling, backtracking, rewinding, piecing together little details like some lovesick conspiracy theorist with red string and a bulletin board. Every interaction, every loaded glance, every time he let you get away with high-level flirtation without so much as a blink. You thought you were testing him, but what if he was never fighting at all?

And before you can even recover from that, before you can file an official grievance about why no one told you sooner, his hands squeeze at your thighs, his mouth so close to exactly where you need him, and his voice —

"You're so beautiful."

His nose presses into the damp center of your panties, and your hands fly to his hair so fast it’s practically reflex, breath stalling in your chest like your body forgot how to function for a second. 

This is everything. What you've wanted, dreamed of, written in the margins of notebooks (hypothetically, of course).

It should be perfect, but suddenly, it isn't.

Uncertainty slips between the cracks, heat turning into something less solid. You don’t have time to find it, to name it, because he’s already there, already sensing it, already fixing it before you even know what’s wrong.

"Hey." His voice hooks into you, gently reeling you back from wherever your brain was about to go. "We don't have to do anything you're not ready for."

"No, I—," The words come out far too fast and desperate, and you can't decipher why it's so hard to say. "I do want to. Obviously." The nervous laugh that follows is definitely not your usual flirty confidence. "Have you met yourself? Because if you haven't, I would love to introduce you. Tall, devastatingly handsome — you'd love him."

His move curves, but his eyes stay patient and focused, giving you a second to breathe.

"It's just..." Another pause, another frustrated sigh. "I haven't been with anyone in a while."

"That's okay, we can take it slow." He moves so that he's hovering above you again, brushing a strand of hair out of your face, his smile just amused enough to leave you flustered. "How long?"

"May."

"May?"

"Yeah, like, May. Three years ago."

Aaron just stares at you, processing. You can see the gears turning, the little mental loading wheel spinning, his expression caught between stunned and deeply interested.

His fingers creep up, sliding under your ribs, just close enough to the heavy swell of your tits to remind you exactly where you are. What he was doing to you before you so rudely derailed this into actual conversation.

"Really?"

You pinch his arm. "Hey! That is not an absurd amount of time."

"No. I know. I didn’t say that," he says quickly. "I'm just... surprised."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

His lips part and he immediately shakes his head, exhaling like he's physically trying to dispel what just ran through your mind, knowing exactly where your thoughts were.

"I just mean — I don't know how every man you meet doesn't immediately worship the ground you walk on."

"Oh, well, they do." You smile. "But I was only ever planning on letting one of them take me to bed."

You reach for his dress shirt buttons, tugging insistently, but your hands refuse to cooperate, not properly communicating with your brain.

It's his fault, you decide.

He looks too good, and it was extremely hard to focus on anything but that.

You have no idea how you survived dinner. Or the car ride home. Or even the eternity it took to get past the door, because that was definitely a struggle considering your mouth was all over his, tasting the whiskey he’d barely touched, before he could even get the key in the lock.

You spent all night picturing this, the way his hands would feel in you, the way his mouth would taste, the way his suit would look crumpled on the floor.

Which, in hindsight, probably meant you were a pretty terrible dinner guest. Nodding, smiling, pretending to listen, all while barely holding back the need to ride him in public.

Aaron laughs, clearly entertained by your struggle, and then, because he’s nothing if not arrogant, he starts undoing the buttons one-handed, to be a show-off.

It’s rude, really. Because now all you can do is watch, helpless as he peels himself open to reveal golden skin, dark hair dusting over firm pecs, trailing lower, disappearing beneath his belt. 

Your manicured fingers glide over the broad expanse of his shoulders, pushing his shirt away like uncovering some lost Renaissance painting that scholars would kill to get their hands on — something that should be in a temperature-controlled glass case, not just here, sprawled above you like he belongs to you. Which, he does, because he’s just letting you do this, letting you look. And you look. He is art. No, better than art. Art is stationary, lifeless, some brushstroke interpretation of what beauty should be. But this, him, he is warmth and breath and muscle.

Museums wish they had something this valuable. They’d burn down in despair if they knew he existed just for you.

"May," he muses, letting the word roll off his tongue, turning it over in his mind. "That's an oddly specific answer."

You make a vague sound of agreement, mostly just to acknowledge that yes, technically, he did say words, but you’re too busy to actually care. Too busy with spreading your hands over the planes of his chest, with grabbing at his belt.

"You were hired in May three years ago."

Your hands freeze. 

"That's... um weird." A slow blink. "Weird that you know that. Weirder that you noticed."

You work his belt loose, tugging it free. It’s meant to be a distraction, a well-placed touch to shift his focus from his revelation.

But then your plan backfires spectacularly because he’s hard, thick, unreasonably big and suddenly your fingers feel useless.

Aaron makes a sound — half a hiss, half a laugh — and his hands snap to your wrist, catching you before you can explore further, like he knew you were going to do that. "It’s okay, honey."

"I—I don't—," You blink up at him, floundering, desperately trying to sound casual. "That's, uh, I don't know what that's supposed to mean."

Aaron’s smirk deepens, his grip on you slackening just enough to trick you into thinking he’s going to be nice.

But then his other hand moves, slipping between your bodies, sliding beneath the heat trapped between your thighs, finding the neediest part of you, and pressing.

Your whole body jerks, a startled gasp catching in your throat as sensation flares — hot, sharp, mercilessly good.

His fingers start to move, rubbing tight circles against you. Your hands cling, one locked onto his bare shoulders, the other pressing against his dick, desperate to make him feel even a fraction of what he's doing to you.

It earns you a groan, low and gritty, hips twitching against your palm, his breath is hot against your lips, his mouth hovering just barely out of reach.

"I won't tease," he promises, but the way he bites at your bottom lip feels like a lie. His tongue is quick to follow, flicking over the welt he’s just left, soothing the burn before sealing it with a kiss, just this side of messy. “Three years… that’s a long time.” His lips skim yours again. “For both of us.”

A pleased sound bubbles up from your throat, slipping between his lips, that makes it obnoxiously clear just how much you love those words. That is a sentence you’d like embroidered on a pillow. Maybe cross-stitched into a nice, elegant frame for your future shared bedroom. 

"Oh," you sigh, a smile stretching against his lips. "I really, really, like knowing that. That's, like, incredible news."

Your brows scrunch, and you pull back just an inch. 

"Just to be clear, though, you do mean in a wow, you've ruined me for other women way, and not in a I've been to busy for a sex life way, right? Because those are two different things, and I need to know which one we're working with here—"

Aaron huffs a laugh and instead of answering with words, his hands slip into your panties, fingers finding your clit without prelude. Skin to skin now, no fabric, no flimsy barrier. Just touch.

His fingers dip lower, dragging through the slick, indecent in how easily he moves through the mess of you. He makes a noise — nearly a groan, mostly a hum of appreciation, of possession — before he spreads it, smearing your own arousal over your clit, rolling circles.

"Oh, wow, sweetheart."

Your thighs fall open like you have no say in it — because you don’t, because every instinct in you is reaching for him, needing it like a fix.

And maybe, maybe that should be embarrassing — the obvious, shameless way you seek him out — but it’s a gorgeous kind of humiliation, a flush that spreads lower.

"Well," you gasp, chest rising in stuttering little pants. "Y—you kept me waiting forever."

Aaron hushes you with a soft tsk, his fingers pressing, stroking, coaxing you into sweet, mindless submission. Every movement feels preordained, like he already knows your body, like he’s a man who’s spent years thinking about this.

"I know, sweetheart," he soothes, murmuring it against the fragile skin beneath your ear, punctuating it with a kiss. "But I think I'm making up for lost time pretty well."

"I guess," you manage. "Th—that's acceptable."

Aaron chuckles, the vibration traveling straight into your skin. His lips descend, an idolization thing, but it’s the kind of devotion that sets you on fire.

His hands spread over your thighs, parting them gently.

Your underwear drags down, slipping over your thighs, grazing the curve of your knees, and then off. And suddenly, there's nothing separating you from his eyes, from the way the air licks over you, cool against the sticky heat between your thighs.

His lips part like he wasn't expecting to fall apart so easily. Like he thought he'd have more time, more control. And the power in it, the sheer, intoxicating power of knowing he's just as affected as you are, that this is breaking him open, makes your skin fizz, burn, ache for him even more.

If someone had told you a year ago that Aaron Hotchner, mister all-business-all-the-time, would be between your legs, staring at you like he's never seen anything more perfect, you would have said something nonsensical. Something about fate. Or destiny.

And you would have been right. Because you always knew this was a definite.

"Oh, honey.... You're gorgeous," It's almost a whisper, like the words were dragged out of him against his will, stolen straight from his lungs the second his eyes landed on you. His gaze drinks you in, head tilting, lips parting, tongue skating over the swell of his bottom lip. “I knew you would be, but…”

A sharp, sizzling spark races up your spine, white-hot and unbearable, but when it should tip over into relief, it withers into frustration. The kind that makes your body revolt against the absence of touch. Your hips buck, thighs squeezing as if you can somehow force the friction you’re being deprived of.

"Give me a second, baby," he teases, caressing his nose along the inside of your thigh. "Just wanna look at you."

His mouth moves in decadent passes, open-mouthed kisses pressed into your inner thigh.

Another kiss. Then another. So close.

Then he detours. Veers off, pressing his lips into the dip of your hip instead, dragging his tongue along something that is not your clit.

"So perfect."

His fingers prod through your folds, parting you, fingertips wading through the slickness pooling at your entrance. The sound that spills from him is sinful.

All of your muscles coiling tight, every inch of you scorching with unmet need and just when you think you're going to have to beg him, just when the words start to form —

He gives in. 

His tongue is there first, dragging a flat, broad stripe through your center, licking over every hypersensitive inch of you before looking up at you through hooded eyes. You swear you nearly come from the sight alone.

"Knew you'd be sweet."

Aaron doesn't waste another second, burying himself in you, mouth moving like he's been ravenous for this. 

His grip is firm as he spreads you wider, keeping you at his mercy. His lips wrap around your clit for a split second before he moves again, tasing, licking, humming, lapping up everything you're giving him.

It's messy. Wet. Dripping. His mouth moves as he tries to wreck himself on you. Each second convincing you that he wouldn’t mind suffocating here if it meant another taste.

His nose nudges against you, the angle so cruelly perfect it sends another violent tremor through your body, legs jumping against his shoulders. Your fingers grasp blindly for purchase, gripping the sheets, tangling in his hair, at anything you can reach. 

"That's it, sweetheart," he murmurs into you, words muffled by your pussy. "Let me hear you."

"Oh — " The sound falls from your lips, your eyes squeezing shut like you can block out the overwhelming pleasure if you just try hard enough.  "Oh, that's — "

Your hips stutter, thighs tightening around his face.

Aaron chuckles darkly, and you feel it more than you hear it, the sound pulsing through your core.

You’re not sure you have a body anymore, not sure you exist outside of this moment. You’re just sensation, just trembling atoms held together only by his hands, his breath, his voice. There’s no past or future – just now, just him.

If this is what it means to transcend, to be unraveled and rewritten in the same breath, then let it consume you whole. You could die like this, and it would be the kindest death you could ever ask for.

A single finger ghosts over your entrance, teasing but never quite committing. He dips in, just the barest of intrusion, and you shudder, clenching around nothing because it’s gone just as fast. 

He waits, just long enough to hear the next breathy fussing before finally spearing back in. Your eyes flutter shut, breath breaking apart in little puffs.

The sounds coming from your cunt should embarrass you, sticky, so shockingly loud that if your brain was working, you’d be mortified. But it’s not working. Not even a little. 

His hand flattens over your stomach and suddenly the pressure doubles, triples.

"Tell me, baby," he murmurs, "feels good, doesn't it?"

"Yes, yes, oh my gods, Aaron, I—"

Your normal senses have left the building. Packed its bags, hit the road, abandoned you to whatever dark magic this is. Because this —this isn’t how your body works. This isn’t how guys work. You don’t come from this. 

But here you are, hurtling toward it at full speed and all because he decided you would.

It’s happening too fast, the pressure stacking. Your thighs shake open, stomach clenching so hard it aches. Your mind is lagging behind, still reeling, still trying to rationalize but it doesn’t matter because your body has already made its choice, has already given in, has already decided this is happening, whether you’re ready for it or not.

"Aaron, I think—,"

Aaron just groans, finishing your sentence for you, lapping up your confession with his tongue,

"I know, baby." Hot air blows against your swollen clit. "Let me feel it."

It crashes over you, back bowing off the bed. Your body splinters apart, thighs trembling so hard you couldn’t stop them if you tried. The edges of your vision smear into nothing as the pleasure consumes everything in its path. 

His mouth stays on you, tongue and fingers pushing you through the aftershocks until you’re clawing at the sheets, until that pleasure tilts so far into oversensitivity that makes you unaware if you’re pulling him closer or pushing him away.

Your limbs feel like liquid, consolidating into every inch of your body, melting into the mattress as Aaron moves to be face to face with you.

He's looking at you like he's the only thing keeping you tethered to this planet, and maybe he is, because when his lips get close enough, you tug him the rest of the way down, crashing your mouth into his in a way that's all sloppy desperation.

You can taste yourself on him, can feel the way he groans into it when you sigh against his mouth, all soft and dreamy and drunk on gratification. 

When you pull back, your fingers card through his hair, fixing nothing but feeling everything.

"Oh my gosh," you gasp, dissolving into giggles, toes curling as you flop back against the pillows. "I knew you'd be good at that, obviously, but I wasn't expecting all that. Like wow, you should get a certificate of excellence or something."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you sigh dramatically, "Or like, a trophy, a raise, a sash that says best head giver in gold letters—," You pause for a breath, sucking in air like you just realized how winded you are.

"— and I mean, I've never come like that before. So. You should probably put that on your résumé."

When Aaron presses against you, you feel every inch of him. Thick and unfortunately still restrained. His slacks are a cruel barrier, the rough drag of the fabric catching your clit in a way that rips a whimper straight from your throat.

His teeth scrape along your jaw, then he's mouthing at your neck, sucking, teasing, marking you.

"Firstly," he murmurs. "I hate the idea of anyone else touching you."

An involuntary shiver rolls through you.

"And secondly," he continues, "the fact that they didn't even know how."

Your hands are frantic as they fly to his waistband, fumbling a bit, the last hindrance between you offensive in its existence. 

"Well, yeah," you sigh, looking up at him through fluttering lashes, glossy lips parted just for him. "I mean, you're literally the only one who's ever known what to do with me. That has to mean something, right? Like, cosmic destiny or whatever."

Aaron shoves his pants and briefs off, barely sparing them a second thought, and then he's back, fitted between your thighs.

"You already know the answer to that." His lips brush your temple. "I'm the only one who knows how to handle you. And I plan on proving it."

"Yeah, okay," you say, squirming beneath him. "Not gonna argue when that sounds like the best idea ever."

You've seen a lot of versions of Aaron. You've seen work Aaron, serious and bossy, looking at crime scenes like he can hear the evidence whispering just to him. You've seen grumpy Aaron, glaring over his coffee when you talk too much at morning briefings (but you know he likes it, he just won't say). You've seen soft Aaron, the one who lets you steal his jacket even though you definitely don't need it.

But you've never seen this Aaron. This post-kissing-you Aaron. Lips slick, still damp with you, evidence of where he’s been, what he’s done.

His eyes flick to yours, and there’s no shame, no rush to wipe it away. If anything, he tilts his head, letting you see it from a better angle.

"You're so handsome, Aaron." Your voice trembles. You don't even know if you said it out loud or just thought it so hard he must have heard it anyway.

"And you,” he murmurs, tracing his thumb over your cheek, “are so damn sweet, honey."

You beam at that, overwhelmed, so unbelievably happy that your thoughts are practically spilling out faster than you can catch them.

"Okay so I just need to say — this is so exciting, like, you do realize I've had a crush on you for years, right? And now this is actually happening, and that's just — wow."

You suck in a sharp breath, nails dragging over the thick muscles of his arms, across his shoulders.

"I mean, it's us, Aaron. Can you believe that? Like, I feel like this has been building for so long and now I'm just — gods, you're so hot, this is actually distracting me. I can't even finish my own thought —,"

You laugh, because you already feel so full of him and he isn't even inside you yet.

"And I know you're being all careful and slow because you're sweet and romantic and, like, the most perfect man alive, but also —,"

You grind up, chasing friction, his cock sliding just right over your clit. Your breath stutters, hands fisting at the nape of his neck as you try to remember what you were saying.

" — I'm literally at your mercy right now, so you should probably take advantage of that before I —,"

"You talk so much, baby."

And then he shuts you up. Hard.

His mouth rams into yours, ingesting the comment, the breath, everything.

He doesn't rush. 

The head of his cock nudges at your entrance before he finally, slowly, pushes inside.

It knocks the breath from your lungs. Your mouth parts against his, lips catching on his as a little sigh slips out. Your nails dig into his shoulders, helpless against the way he's opening you up. 

He stills, a sharp, fractured inhale slicing through the air, fingers digging into your hips — hard. He is struggling. You can feel it. The way his cock twitches inside you, like his body is screaming at him to move.

"I-I'm good." Your laugh wobbles, catches at the edges, barely disguising how badly you want him to believe you. "You can keep going."

"You're tensing because it's been a while." You don't mean to, but your body reacts before your brain can tell it not to, stiffening. Stupid, stupid. His exhale is shaky, and his lips press against your cheek. "I know that. I expected that."

You swallow, but it doesn't help.

"I also know that you think if I notice, I'll stop." His forehead rests against yours. "But I need you to hear me, baby. I'm not stopping."

His lips graze yours.

"I'm going to work you through this. Just let me in, princess."

And the second you do, the second you finally give in —

He groans, pushing deeper, stretching you completely, filling you to the hilt. 

"There we go," he breathes, wrecked with praise. His hand presses to your lower belly, feeling how deep he is, how well you take him. "That's my good girl."

Your head tilts back, lips parting, body doing the melty thing that feels really, really nice but also really, really dangerous because you swear you're seconds away from levitating straight out of your own skin.

"Okay, so I did think this would feel good —," Your fingers twitch against his chest, nails raking lightly over sweat-damp skin as another sharp moan tumbles free. "— but, um, wow, this is like — this is so —,"

Your words taper off, get lost somewhere between your psyche and your mouth, because oh. Oh, wow. He's so deep, so heavy inside you, pressing into places you didn't even know existed.

"Go on, baby," he murmurs, a smirk plastered across handsome features as he dips his head. "You were saying?"

"You know," you gasp, words all flimsy and loose, like they've been shaken up inside you, "I kinda always wondered how big you were —"

Your breath hooks halfway through, hiccups on a moan, brain scrambling to keep up with your mouth, your mouth scrambling to keep up with — him.

"Not that I, um — I stared at your pants or anything —" Another sharp inhale, another desperate moan, your walls fluctuating and squeezing around something too thick. "I mean, I try not to because I'm a professional —"

An involuntary clench makes him curse, makes his fingers dip into your hips, makes his head plunge forward hard against your shoulder.

"Honey, shit—,"

Your lashes flutter. "What?"

"Sweetheart, if you keep squeezing me like that while you ramble about my cock, I'm not going to last."

Your mouth clicks shut promptly.

"That's what I thought."

Hotch rocks his hips, just once, a sharp gasp fissuring from your lips like you weren't expecting it. 

"Jesus, sweetheart. You're trembling." He cups your cheek, his thumb skimming over your bottom lip, eyes dark and aflame. "Does it feel that good?"

You nod, and he hums, dragging his cock almost all the way out before pushing back in. 

His hand drags down your waist, spans over your belly, fingers pressing like he's charting the way he fits inside you.

"I used to tell myself I wouldn't do this," he admits. "That I wouldn't touch you. Wouldn't ruin you like this."

Your head lolls back, eyes fluttering, lips parted prettily, gasping as he rocks into you again, and again, and again. You shake your head, or at least, you think you do.

"You don't —" You try to shape words, but they liquefy on your tongue. "Don't ruin me, Aaron, you — oh, you make me —"

Hotch's throat bobs, his pupils blown.

"You make me so, so good, so soft, so perfect."

His hand cups your jaw. "You're already all of those things, sweetheart."

"Not before you," you sigh. "I've been waiting so long, Aaron, so, so long —"

"I know, baby," he groans. "I know."

His hand veers between your bodies, his fingers finding the swollen, neglected bundle of nerves.

“Aaron — oh, wait, wait, wait —,” Your hands shoot up to his shoulders. “I don’t know if I can, I mean, I can, but it’s just —,”

His cock throbs inside you, his rhythm stuttering for half a second before he finds it again, harder this time, his fingers matching the pace.

“Too much?”

“Yes, no, kind of? I don’t know, I can’t—,” You choke on your own breath as another thrust knocks every last rumination from your head. “I can’t think.”

“Good.” His forehead presses against yours, his lips parting against your mouth, panting, his control slipping. “I don’t want you thinking. Just feel me, sweetheart. Feel what I’m doing to you.”

Your body is shaking, shaking so hard that you don’t even know if you’re moving or if he’s just pushing you through it. 

“I know, baby. But you can take it, can’t you?”

“Y-Yeah,” you stutter, body twitching. 

“That’s my girl,” he praises, groaning as he grinds into you, stretching it. “One more, honey. You can give me one more.”

It hits you slowly, unwinding through your organs like smelted honey.

“Oh, oh —,” Your breath falters, mind going blank, the pleasure overwhelming every nerve in your body until you can’t do anything but let it consume you.

“Christ,” he groans, feeling you clench around him so tight it nearly undoes him.

You barely register the way you’re gasping, twitching, babbling out breathless little moans, vision blurring, and for a second you think you might black out.

“That’s it, princess,” he rasps, fucking you through it the reverberations. “So, so good for me.”

His pace turns shallow, sharp, chasing the tight, perfect squeezing of you still thrashing around him.

“You’re so tight, honey,” he grits, hands bruising your hips, your breath still catching from your own orgasm.

You’re too gone to respond, too wrung out to do anything but whimper as he takes you, using your body to pull himself over the edge.

He groans, low and deep, his fingers tangling in your hair, his mouth ghosting over your cheek as he finally breaks.

A shudder, a muttered curse, his body jerking, hips slamming into yours as he spills inside you.

He doesn’t mean to collapse, you know that, because even as his body gives out, his arms brace, still trying to be careful, even now. You want to cling to him, lock your legs around his waist, but you barely remember how to move, so you just let out a sleepy sound, nuzzling blindly at his throat. 

He murmurs something low, something that sounds like praise, maybe worship.

His lips press to the side of your face, half-gone and still recovering, and then his muscles tense, trying to lift himself off you.

Your arms wind around his neck before he can get too far. 

“Sweetheart,” he rasps, “I’m crushing you.”

“Don’t care,” you mumble, voice a little hoarse. “Feels nice.”

“You did so good.”

When he finally pulls out, you feel the loss and everything that comes with it, his release sticky and warm beneath your thighs. 

Aaron disappears into the bathroom, and you barely have time to miss him before he’s back with a warm cloth in hand.

You giggle, squirming before he even touches you, already restless, and the second he presses the cloth to your inner thighs, you jerk, laughing helplessly.

“Oh, wait —,”

Aaron sighs, one hand pressing against your hip to keep you still. “Sweetheart. You have to let me clean you up”

“But it tickles—,”

He smirks and continues his work. “How do you feel?”

“Like I saw god actually,” you ramble, kicking your feet against the sheets. “Or, like, like, if I had to describe it, I’d say I transcended reality for a little bit —,”

Aaron just chuckles, pressing a kiss to your knee as he finishes cleaning you up. Each swipe reminds you that your legs might not be on speaking terms with you tomorrow.

When he’s done his mouth finds yours again. It’s easy to kiss him. If it were physically possible to stay attached to him, twenty-four hours a day, you’d gladly test the theory.

“Worth the wait,” he breathes into your mouth.

“Well, yeah,” you murmur, smirking up at him. “I figured it would be for you.”

He laughs.

“Yeah, baby, you were good,” he mutters, kissing right over your stuttering pulse. “You were so good.” Another kiss. “So good I’m already thinking about the next time.”

Your heart hasn’t even slowed down, and you’re already thinking about the next time. Already plotting, already ready to drag him back down and see just how quickly that next time could turn into right now. But before you can so much as tug at him — Aaron is rolling out of bed, pulling on his pants, disappearing into the kitchen.

You mean to protest, to demand why he left you alone in a post-bliss haze, but then he’s back, pressing a glass of water into your hand, watching you drink it like it’s his personal responsibility.

Then comes food, something light and something he feeds you between kisses, between lazy murmurs about nothing. 

At some point, the blankets are back over you, his lips pressing against your forehead, his voice saying something about getting some sleep before you got any ideas, before pulling you against him.

You hum, content and drowsy, shifting a little, rolling over to get more comfortable —

And then your eyes land on that photo frame from earlier. You had a clear view of it now.

It was you.

It takes you a second to place it, but once you do, you almost laugh. You know this photo — because Garcia took it. She printed it out months ago, probably as some ridiculous gag, and stuck it to Aaron’s office wall with a bright sticky note that read your favorite obviously. You’d rolled your eyes at the time, called it workplace favoritism, but he’d never taken it down. 

And now, somehow, it’s framed. On his nightstand, like he’s been looking at you every night for —

You don’t finish the thought.

Instead, you just smile, huge and uncontrollable.

He doesn’t say anything.

And you don’t need him to.

Because you already know.

💌 masterlist taglist has been disbanned! if you want to get updates about my writings follow and turn notifications on for my account strictly for reblogging my works! @mariasreblogs

[yandere-wishes]

NEEEEEED DAMIAN X CATGIRL READER

ME TOO!!!! IT'S ALL I CAN THINK ABOUT!!! Like it's so delicious, so painful, cause ultimately it boils down to the "sins of the father". A mistake, a role, an endless game. Like it or not Damian is destined to repeat this father's mistakes. He's doomed to fall in love with the carbon copy of his father's beloved. He's Just another distorted image of tomorrow.

And can you imagine all the pain it brings back?? The fact that despite knowing the truth of how he was conceived and the bad blood between his parents. There is still a small part of Damian that longs for a happy family, that longs for both parents to live together, in love and contentment.

But seeing Catwoman just shatters his hopes, because he can see the adoration flickering in his father's stoic eyes, Damian knows his mother can never be Bruce's true love.

Also, can you imagine the other side of it? Damian looks up to his father, adores the dark knight hero in every way. His obsession with you only intensifies when he realizes that you make him more like his dad, make him more like Batman. His Catwoman, his pretty little kitty to chase and put in her place. He grows addicted to the thrill of chasing you, of hunting you. Of caging you between his arms lips grazing your neck, savoring your pulse between his teeth. You are his ethereal link to his father's legacy, the last shard in fulfilling his heritage.

────────୨ৎ────────

✧₊⁺ There's something bittersweet lodged between his heart and throat. Some sickly paramour as he takes in your figure sitting docilely on the edge of the rooftop, legs swinging to an invisible rhythm as you suck away on your milkshake's straw. Damian reaches out, breath thick in his lungs, his fingers pat your silky hair for a moment or eternity, he can never tell when he's with you. It's so much easier to process these silly perfidious sentiments when he's flinging all his energy into soaring between the skylines, heel to heel with you, narrowly skirting the swipe of your claws and the sting of your whip-like tail. Damian's never been good at peace, at quiet, serenity is when his true feelings seep out. Ripping his heart as they bleed away.

✧₊⁺ He's all so torn, emotions clawing at his skin like dragon's teeth. Heart filled with daggers as he dreams of keeping you bound by his side forever. Waking up with your limbs tangled with his. To savor your lips throughout the day. To have you sit on his lap as he reads in the library. Domestic little daydreams, he wonders if his father was ever visited by the same frivolous notions. He wonders if he's always been doomed to walk the same path.

✧₊⁺ Yet despite all his longing for such simple romances, Damian can't deny himself the thrill of the chase, the need to hunt you down. To purify your sins with his lips, to intertwining his fingers with yours, pinning you to whichever wall is closest so you don't steal off him. Forcing you to release your bag of stolen goods, forcing all your attention on him.

✧₊⁺ It's unfair he thinks as he glares at the Bat Computer desperate for any inkling of a robbery, any sign of you.

────────୨ৎ────────

Like I was saying I just love the idea of Damian being torn apart with so much grief and (delusional) burden for a simple obsessive crush. Bonus point if reader is his first-ever crush, the only person he's ever felt destined to be with. It's so romantic and heavy, suffocating the poor boy. All the while reader is robbing jewelry stores and stealing sweet treats in hopes of impressing her mentor. Praying to avoid another run-in with the weird boy wonder.

Kinda playing more into legacy. I find it so fascinating to write about Batman's obsession with crime being passed down to his sons. Yet also twisting that righteous obsession into a dark morbid mania. Causing his sons to go astray and fall in love with the thing(s) they were destined to destroy!!!!

Oh and since we're on the topic of heritage and sins of the father, can I take this moment to also mention. Dick Grayson x Jester reader. More specifically a reader who is Joker and Harley's daughter, who wants to be just like her parents and was raised to take up their mantle, just like Dick was with Bruce.

I'm trying to come up with a villain name for her but there are so many possibilities. Jester is my default name for now, but I also like Wildcard and Laughtrack maybe even Giggles (sounds so macabre in this context).

[littlemissmentallyunstable]

bella PLEWSDE WRITE A GRAYSON HAWTHORNE BLURB OR WHAYEVER WITH READER WITH LOW IRON AND LIKE SHE ALMOST FAINTS BECAUSE THERES LITERALLY ZERO. ZERO FICS THAY HAVE THE READER WITH LOW IRON SO PPELAPSPESLLEPWDLEEL

AHHHHHH BELLE LET ME JUST BEGIN WITH AN APOLOGY BECAUSE I AM SO SO SO SO SORRY THIS FIC HAS TAKEN ME THREE BILLION YEARS TO GET AROUND TO WRITING!! THANK YOU FOR YOU REQUEST AND I PRAYYYY THIS IS WHAT YOU WANTED…. (if not I will redo)

title: I’m fine

pairing: grayson hawthorne x reader

synopsis: a story where ‘I’m fine’ means ‘I’m totally not fine but I’m not going to admit that’

warnings: dizziness, fainting

a/n: dedicating this to the beautiful @midiosaamor 💖💖 ily <33

taglist: @lovethornes @whatsamongus @wish-i-were-heather @inmyheaddd @never-enough-novels @fleuriosa @midiosaamor @sweetreveriee @emelia07 @f4iry-bell @zaraaaabear @thoughtdaughter3 @benny1989fredd @elysianwayy77 @maybxlle @sheisntyou @anintellectualintellectual @aleatorio1234 @adalia-jaycee @off-to-the-r4ces @lyra-kane @reminiscentreader @lyrakanefanatic @imaseabear @elizaa31 @loveinalocket @lanterns-and-daydreams @hermesenthusiast @eternal--dream @shattered-glass-roses @book-nerd-emi @peppapigsposts @foreverwinter22

It only started as a headache, not bad enough to be classed as a migraine but bad enough to be considered more than your average headache. Still, I carried on typing the words out on my computer, my brain pulsating in pain.

I didn’t have time to rest off a headache, there was too much to do. I’d only started working four hours ago and if I didn’t get this done by tonight then my boss would not be happy. I mean it wasn’t exactly my fault she decided set me an assignment with a deadline on the same day but still, I had to work it all out and push through.

The tasks seemed endless, I typed word after word, in a state of not really registering what I was writing, just making the robotic movements to write. Clicking the keys and forming coherent sentences without anything being properly processed. It wasn’t unusual, I was used to my brain working faster than my body sometimes.

Still, my head throbbed on. For a second, I stopped the incessant tapping on my keyboard and pressed two fingertips softly to each temple. My hands were ice cold. I breathed in and out deeply a few times with my eyes shut before beginning to work again, praying a tiny reset would be what I needed. I knew I was lying to myself, I knew it would take more than that to soothe any pain but I carried on like I didn’t.

“Are you alright?”

As small gasp escaped my lips as I looked up to see Grayson standing in the doorframe, one hand at the top taking most of his weight. I wondered how long he’d been stood there and I hadn’t noticed.

“Mmmm,” I hummed in reply, going back to finish the sentence I was typing before I lost my train of thought. Then I looked back up at him again, “why?”

He walked in slowly looking at my face intently, “you look a little pale.”

He took my face into his palms and rubbed my cheek with his thumb. Small, gentle, long strokes, that made me lean into him further. I wanted to just curl up in his arms and sleep, but my work clearly had other ideas.

“Just a headache,” I brushed it off, pulling away from his touch reluctantly, “is there any aspirin?”

“There is,” he nodded slowly, his eyebrows pinching together in concern, “but I really think you ought to lay down if it’s this bad.”

“I don’t need to,” I shook my head stubbornly, standing up to look him dead in the eye, “I’m fine.”

What a lie.

“You don’t look fine,” he told me softly, the anxiety rippling across his perfected features. His hands curved around the small of my back and I tried to enjoy it instead of thinking about the throbbing of my head.

So despite my ache, I smiled, “well I feel fine.”

Sometimes I lied so easily and so well it worried me. I shouldn’t be this good at something so cruel. But maybe more than him, I was lying to myself to convince a part of me that I wasn’t as feeling as bad as I thought I felt.

Grayson gave me another worried glance, thumb running up and down the base of my spine rhythmically, the softness of his touch sending a chill through it.

“Have you eaten today?” he asked me, the tingling up my back dying down.

“Earlier,” I nodded, my eyes flicking the time in the bottom corner of my screen realising my ‘earlier’ actually meant six hours ago. On cue, my stomach seized in a hungry protest, sending a tight knot like sensation across my abdomen. I prayed it wouldn’t grumble, betraying my lies to Gray.

“I haven’t seen you eat or-“

“Stop the fussing,” I grinned to bear it, “I’m fine, just need a tablet and some water.”

“Maybe lay off the work then,” he suggested, cocking his head towards my computer screen.

“Grayson I need to get this done,” I sighed gently, “a little headache can’t stop me.”

“Okay…” he said unsurely, hesitating for a few seconds.

“Stop worrying,” I forced a laugh through my searing brain, glancing up at him and looking through those truth-reeling gray eyes.

“I’m not,” his right hand twitches at my side. Liar. “Sit down and I’ll go and get you the aspirin, okay?”

“Okay then,” I nodded, sitting down. Another chill ran through my spine, though this time it was because of the empty place left where his hands had just been.

I took a few more deep breaths, feeling a little out of it all of a sudden. It was like I was in the room but I wasn’t at the same time. I closed my eyes and let the weight of my skull fall into my palms, breathing even deeper, heavier.

I let myself hang, like a lifeless marionette forgotten by her puppeteer, everything leaden and dopey. When I heard Grayson coming back and quickly opened my eyes and sat up a little bit straighter. If he saw me like that he’d get stressed and that’s the last he needed. It was only a headache after all.

Just a really bad headache.

“Thank you,” I kissed him on the cheek as he passed me the aspirin pill and a glass of water.

He cupped my face in his hands, “you promise me you’re fine?”

“I promise promise promise you,” I whispered, feigning another smile. My jaw was starting to ache. I don’t know it’s it from the guilt of lying or the forceful action of smiling or maybe it was just the headache transferring.

I took the tablet between my fingertips and put it at the back of my mouth before swallowing it quickly with water. I shivered afterwards. I hate taking tablets.

Grayson squeezed my shoulders softly, “do you want me to stay here?”

“Didn’t I just ‘promise promise promise’ you I was fine?” I asked, raising my eyebrows.

He looked at me and sighed. Worry ran riot across his eyes, swirling anxious thoughts into pools of grey. How bad did I look?

“I haven’t got much work left to do, okay?” I said, “I just need to get through this.”

He took his time walking out and although I didn’t look at him I was convinced he kept looking back every through steps to check on me. Finally he left and I downed the glass of water.

I sat still for a moment, analysing how I felt. I didn’t think it was possible but my head had worsened. I internally groaned as dread filled my body. It wasn’t supposed to worsen. I prayed the tablet would kick in, after all I hadn’t really given it a chance.

I took a long breath out and continued tapping away at the keypad. After a while the continuous clicking and clacking was beginning to irritate me. Like an itch I couldn’t quite scratch. My already pounding head felt pounded with the small noises over and over like they were making a mockery of it. Still I continued, there wasn’t much left now and if I could just finish it l, all would be okay.

After about a billion spell checks - seriously why does psychology have a ‘p’ and ‘h’ in it, it’s so irrelevant - I thought I might be ready to finish when I realised I’d missed a whole section.

By now my head was almost unbearable. Torturous agony was creeping up behind my eye now as well as the front of my head. A whole section felt like it would be the death of me. And I’d noticed something weirdly unnatural about my breathing. Every breath in didn’t feel like enough oxygen. So I began to breathe more deeply and when that wasn’t working, more quickly.

That only fuelled my rising panic about the weird nature of these symptoms. They were familiar. Why couldn’t I breathe normally? What was wrong? Maybe it was more than a headache? Questions raced through my head faster than it had time to process them all.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

My head pounded on and like the idiot that I am, I carried on writing. My vision blurred out for a fraction of a second then cleared shortly after. I rubbed my eyes. It was just the screen. Just the screen.

It happened a few more times, so I cleaned my glasses with the bottom of my jumper for good measure. More notes, more notes, more notes, more notes. I quickly hit save in the document for fear if my computer crashed I would lose it all. I sighed as I then went to drink from my water glass only to realise it was empty.

“Gray!” I yelled, “could you grab me another glass of water please?”

I barely registered his reply, my only focus being the stupid piece of work. ‘I can last a little longer’ I repeated over and over in my mind. Until I was bored. Until I was delirious. Until I was too brain dead to care.

I could hear Grayson approaching so got up to meet him at the door. I wanted a ten second break from staring straight at the glowing screen. Suddenly, mid step, I stumbled. Straight away Grayson had one hand around the small of my back gripping tightly and the another on my upper arm, steadying me. I try to laugh it off as a I mistake but even that sounded weak.

“Woah sweetheart,” he said, his hold firmer as he set me straight, “what’s going on?”

“I’m fine,” I shrugged, trying to get back to my chair, my legs feeling too much like jelly for my liking.

I could see he didn’t believe me completely, he didn’t have to say a word. Grayson, instead, took me in his arms. I couldn’t ask to sit down after that, then I’d be admitting that something was wrong. So I stayed standing, my body against his. The only thing holding me up was him.

He looked at me, tender eyed and consumed with concern, “you’re clearly not my love.”

“Gray, I just tripped,” I said smoothly, praying he’d let me twist the truth as I tried to stop my legs from shaking.

“Don’t lie to me,” he murmured in a low voice, curling his other arm around my waist for support.

“I’m not lying,” I shrugged, continuing to be in denial as I gripped to his shirt so tightly my knuckles went white, “I’m fine.”

As soon as the words left my lips everything spun. I closed my eyes and pressed my head against his chest, hoping it would all just go away. My feet swayed a little and panic seized my throat at the unsteadiness. I made a choked sound, halfway between a gasp and a silent scream.

“It’s okay,” Grayson whispered softly, “I’ve got you.” He brought a hand up through the back of my hair and gently held onto the back of my head to steady it.

“Dizzy,” I murmured into him, my voice slurred and slowed. I felt so out of it.

We stayed like that for I don’t know how long. My concept of time was as hazy as my vision. I just remembered staying very still, Grayson’s hands not leaving my body and how hard my forehead was pressed against him.

After a while, I tried to stand back on my own, thinking the dizzy spell was over but as soon as I did the room became a whirlpool of colours and blob-ish shapes. I felt myself lose my footing completely and before I knew it was falling backwards.

Strong arms tensed around my torso and quickly caught me, “oh sweetheart,” I heard Grayson say as he safely lowered me to the ground.

My legs became lifeless pieces of flesh, heavy as led but weak as a flimsy childhood doll. My head felt heavy in his lap as it pounded on. I sewed my eyes shut, it helped a little with the dizziness. His cold fingers tentatively touched my forehead and I leant into them ever so slightly with what energy I had left.

“I’m going to carry you to bed,” he told me gently, as I felt one arm around my back and the other under my legs.

“But my work-“ I groaned, feeling a little nauseated from the dizziness.

He held me tightly, “no sweetheart, forget about work, you need to rest.”

I didn’t reply and instead feebly gripped my deadened limbs around his neck and prayed for all of this to just go away.

“Gray,” I murmured into his chest.

“Yeah?”

“I’m not fine,” I said, somewhere between a sob and mumble.

“I know sweetheart,” he whispered, pressing a shaky kiss on my temple, “I know.”

He scooped me into his arms and carried me to the bedroom, laying me on the bed, before tucking me under the covers. Not letting go of my hand, that gripped him so tightly I don’t know how he didn’t complain. I heard him dialling a number.

“Who are you calling?” I slurred.

“Someone to come and help you,” he responded swiftly.

“Mhmm,” I could only muster in response.

His thumb rubbed circles up and down my hand, “I’m going to stay right here okay?” he comforted, “can you still hear me?”

“Don’t go,” I whispered, feeling quite pathetic but not self-conscience enough to care.

“No I’m staying sweetheart,” he squeezed my palm in his, “I’m staying.”

My eyes fluttered open as my head lazily lolled to one side, “I’m dizzy,” I groaned, not remembering if I’d mentioned already.

“I know,” Grayson whispered, a hand pushing my hair out of the way, “I know.”

“Can I rest my eyes?” I asked him, closing them anyway.

“No, you can’t go to sleep,” he told me.

“No just rest my eyes…” I trailed off, pausing for a long while, my train of thought wavering, “…to stop the spinning.”

“Squeeze my hand every three seconds then,” he said, “so I know you’re awake.”

“Deal,” I barely managed to whisper before I felt the need to increase my breathing rate. It felt like there wasn’t enough oxygen in my system.

I squeezed his hand every three seconds, just about keeping track of the numbers. But with every squeeze I could feel myself growing weaker and weaker, like all of my energy was being drained slowly and mercilessly. The only thing that kept me from closing my eyes was Grayson’s gentle touches. His soft fingertips trailing over my face, tracing the contours or drawing spirals on my upper arms and neck.

I opened my eyes for a moment, when the darkness was just as bad as the light, when I felt dizzy no matter whether my eyes were closed or open. Things blurred and cleared, darkened and became normal again over and over and over. Until, a piercing ringing coursed through my ears and everything other sound seemed to be submerged under water. I knew what that meant I was close to.

“Gray,” I murmured shakily.

“Yes?”

“I’m going to pass out,” I told him, a single tear trailing its way down my cheek, “I can feel it.”

I knew the signs well enough and every sign was pointing that way.

“It’s okay,” he said, positioning himself behind me, so my back was pressed against his torso and he could support my head, “I’ve got you.”

“I don’t want to pass out,” I sobbed, black spots dancing across my vision in mockery.

The worst part is always before you passed out because when you’re out you feel and remember nothing. But before, you know what’s coming and you know you can’t stop it.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” he mumbled into my hair, slowly, comfortingly, “you’re safe, if you need to pass out, you can and your body will, whether you like it or not.”

My hands were shaking, fingers rocking back and forth, bumping into one another clumsily, “I’m scared,” I said between uneven breaths.

I grabbed Grayson’s forearm to attempt to still them, my fingers so brutally desperate in their clinging that they constricted his blood flow. No matter how many times I’d passed out,, I always felt just as scared.

“You don’t need to be scared,” he soothed gently, “I’ve got you, I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere.”

“You promise,” I panted, looking up at him, chest rising up and down harshly.

“I promise,” he leant down and planted a sweet of kiss on my nose.

I kept looking up, until his gray eyes clouded with dark spots, until calm expression replaced with an endless see of nothingness, until the whisperings of sweet words ceased. My breathing was heavy, growing heavier by the second and then… then there was black.

***

I felt thick and heavy with drowsiness. My body felt so weighted it ached. My back was against the mattress, my head flat on the pillow, I was anchored to my bed. The covers had been adjusted to just under my neck and I could feel someone’s hand in mine.

I winced as I opened my eyes, the light attacking them too viciously. Immediately Grayson dimmed it down, holding my cheek tentatively in his palm.

“Hey sweetheart,” he whispered, kissing my forehead.

“Gray?”

He traced a soft thumb over the bone where my eyebrow sat as he asked, “how are you feeling?”

“Tired,” I mumbled, stifling a yawn.

“Here,” he said gently, “have some water.”

Slowly he helped me prop myself up, his hand pressed up against my back, the other tipping the glass towards my lips. I swallowed, the water feeling odd against the dryness of my throat.

“How long was I out for?” I coughed.

“Only a bit,” he said, laying me back down, “the doctors have come and gone, they say you’ll be okay with some rest.”

“Why did I pass out?” I asked tiredly, “do they know?”

“You hadn’t taken your iron tablets in three days,” Grayson explained, cocking his head towards my table.

I glanced to my bedside and gasped. Three days worth of unconsumed tablets sat there. I never usually forgot, one day maybe but three whole days. That was unheard of. Guilt permeated me, all the stress I’d probably put Grayson under could’ve been entirely prevented.

“I must’ve forgotten,” I sighed leaning deeper into my pillow, “work has just been so hectic lately and-“

“Hey, hey, hey, I didn’t tell you to worry you, I told you so you wouldn’t overthink what was wrong,” he said softly, “but it’s okay, you’re okay, that’s all that matters.”

“But it’s not okay because it’s all my fault,” I bursted into tears, the shock wave of random emotion leaving me senseless, “I’m sorry. I didn’t tell you I wasn’t fine and then I just passed out and that probably really stressed you out and I could’ve stopped all of that if I’d just taken the stupid tablets.”

“Sweetheart,” he pressed a palm flat on my chest, “breathe, it’s okay.”

His voice was the constant in my current of chaotic overthinking. This had happened before many times, my low iron deficiency had always been an issue, but even the very first time I’d passed out he was so much calmer than I’d expected.

He kept calm for me.

“God I feel like an idiot,” I choked out a pathetic laugh, wiping my eyes roughly with the back of my hand.

“You’re not an idiot, love,” he soothed, taking my hand gently into his and replacing with with the pad of his thumb, as he gently wiped away the tears that were left, “it happens.”

“It shouldn’t happen,” I shook my head defiantly.

I don’t forget things. I never forget things.

“Hey,” Grayson said, “look at me, you’re fine, I’m fine and that’s all that’s important.”

He held my face in his palms and looked at me like I meant the world.

“I’m sorry,” I let the weight of my head fall into his hands, taking the ache from my neck.

“Don’t apologise,” he said, “there’s no need for you to, just relax.”

I closed my eyes, his palm warm and comforting against my cheek. His fingers found their way to the top of my head, soothingly running through my hair over my scalp.

“Do you want me to get in with you?” he asked.

I nodded sleepily and watched as he slipped into the bed beside me. I was quick to snuggle close, intertwining my legs with his and burying my face into his chest. I inhaled and exhaled slowly.

“You okay, sweetheart?” he whispered in a low voice in my ear as his arms curved around my waist.

“Tired,” I mumbled.

“It’s okay,” he ushered, “you can go to sleep.”

“What if you go?” I asked, like a child.

“I won’t, I promise,” Grayson said, “I’ll stay here with you.”

I smiled to myself, and squeezed his arm, “I love you,” I murmured, “so much.”

“I love you too sweetheart,” he planted a kiss on the top of my head, “more than this world. Get some rest now.”

So I shut my eyes and fell longingly into sleep’s arms.

a/n: hope you enjoyed guys, sorry I haven’t posted much 💖💖

TIG masterlist

[mysteryfawn]

AUHAUHA YOUR WRITING IS SO!!!!!!!!!! WONDERFUL!@!!!!!!!!!!!! im tearing u p that was absolutely cinema i i ,,, Oh my blouse 💐💐💐💐💐💐 ...... if you could and do not mind, perhaps a(nother) chance fic where he tries his beest to impress the reader ,, but it doesnt really impress them - the reader just shrugging it off as an act of kindness! i like chance i /SILLUAYA

AAAA SO SORRY THAT THIS TOOK SO LONG!!! had so many tests this week uwahhhh!! hope you like it chance anon !! :3

BANG! A bullet ripped through Jason’s arm, the sound loud enough to reach the ears of all the survivors close and far. You opened your eyes, relieved not to feel the chainsaw dig into your head again.

Releasing a breath you held for so long, you didn’t process that you had to run, as the killer in front of you was only stunned for a moment, but you didn’t have to worry, as your saviour remembered.

Grabbing your arm, Chance bolted the other way with you, making sure he didn’t put too much pressure on you, but enough to keep you by his side. “Almost died there!” The gambler chuckled, looking behind him to admire your surprised expression.

“Thanks, Chance!” Exclaiming, you started catching your breath as you both hid behind a wall, Chance taking peeks every so and then to confirm you weren’t followed. “That was some quick thinking… I thought I was done for-” You spoke, but was interrupted by the anxious man in front of you, “It’s no problem! Just what friends do, ya’ know?”

Truthfully, the casino owner was screaming internally from the compliment, convinced they had made you proud with their skills. For him, it was his first win… Chance had been trying to impress you for maybe 2 months, protecting you in every way they could.

No matter what they’ve done, body blocking, giving you all their supplies, gifting you flowers, baking for you, helping you clean your cabin… It never got through your head that they were in love with you.

It drove him crazy, but he was determined to continue, not wanting to give up just yet (or ever). Your smiles, laughs, voice, body, personality, habits, mindset, and everything else are addicting to him. They would feel all red and shy around you but quickly pick up their usual flirty personality to cover that.

Focusing on the present, a soft breeze hit the both of you, waking up Chance from his accidental daydream. “[Y/N]… You need to wake up.” The gambler muttered, his phrase having a double meaning, but of course, you only understood one.

“Hey, I was just done being chased! My adrenaline fell off, no need to be so mean!” You defended, whisper-shouting because none of you know if Jason is near. Chance smiled smugly, but his heart was beating fast for what he was about to do.

Holding your hand, the casino owner looked into your puzzled eyes, “Dumbass.” was the last word you heard before their lips met yours softly, causing you to close your eyes and lean into the kiss.

Pulling out of it, Chance glazed at you again, observing your blushing and surprised face, before chuckling, “You don’t know how long I’ve waited to do that.”

[amiaclone]

begging on my knees pls write se-mi (player 380) x reader where se-mi is flirting with reader but she’s completely oblivious!!!

love ur work!

Thank you! And yes i will I’ve gotten so much se mi 🥲 can’t blame you though she’s gorgeoussss

Se-Mi x gn! Reader

“Wow the money is as worth to me as being by your side”

“Aw really? Thanks!”

Se-Mi mentally sighed this was a very obvious pick up line too!

It’s not like you were stupid when Nam-Gyu tried to insult you in a complimenting way you weren’t afraid to talk back and call out the insult you were just……oblivious about flirting that’s all

Se-Mi immediately took a liking to you the second she started talking to you and decided to protect you in the games so….she could have some fun with you when we’re here and maybe even communicate outside the games

Luck was not on her side as you barely reciprocated her flirty gestures

Maybe you just aren’t into her? Could be it hopefully not maybe she should just confess?

I mean she’s tried everything comparing you and your beautiful looks to random objects hand holding just simply being nice and those lovey-dovey qoutes rarely……Does she have to go Thanos level for you to realise your flirting with her?

She’d never do that as that would make her lose all respect for herself

Anyways here she is hanging out with you away from her annoying team just talking to you

“Soo-“

“Huh?” *She suddenly turned her head to you she was daydreaming….about you*

“Nothing you seemed tense that’s all. You’ve been spacing out a lot today does this mean we’re getting closer?” *You smiled sweetly Se-Mi honestly couldn’t tell if you were flirting or not*

“I suppose so” *She smiles* “Just thinking about important stuff that’s all”

You quirked an eyebrow smiling “A strategy for the games? It better be that cause honestly we barely survived this game someone smart and pretty like you definitely knows what to do…”

Se-Mi smiled a bit maybe she wasn’t being dense but to her you definitely had feelings for her which is a relief but she has to be sure “Yeah sorry not that when i do i promise I’ll tell you first you’re probably my favourite person here”

You smiled “Aw don’t be cheesy….you’re definitely my favourite person too”

It cues to you all with your team you formed! All alliance Se-Mi can barely tolerate but atleast you and Min-Su were on it

You left to go to the bathroom so then Thanos turned to Se-Mi “So when are you gonna tell them?”

Se-Mi quirked an eyebrow frowning “Tell them what?” Thanos leaned back “Senorita it’s so obvious you’re into her….you think we’re all as dense as her or something?”

“Don’t call them that”

“Ooh! She so does like her!” *His annoying friend Nam-Gyu giggled like a preschooler*

Se-Mi sighed “And what if i do? It’s not like it’s any of your business”

Thanos smirked a bit “Well i for one don’t care about whatever you do with your relationships but the flirty mushy stuff is killing my vibe…..besides what if you or her died?”

She rolled her eyes “Hypocrite” she thought to herself

He was right about one thing though if you did die she’d be pretty upset in general but especially not confessing…..what if you don’t feel the same way? Honestly she doesn’t even care she’ll confess….after the next game she promised that

Cues to mingle it was the second round Se-Mi has been holding your hand the whole time you swear it’s stuck to her

“Uh Se-Mi-“

“Quick!”

The number was five Thanos kicked out Gyeong-Su and she dragged you and Min-Su barely

You breathed heavily while barely making it into the room you stared at Se-Mi she sighed “Well atleast we were stuck together the whole time…..like mates or something”

You sighed smiling “Yeah mates…..good friends”

Se-Mis grinded her teeth

You ended up losing Se-Mi during one of the later rounds as Thanos kicked her out and eventually you and you’ve been barely trying to survive

Eventually it was one of the last rounds before you could even process who grabbed you and dragged you into the room it was locked

You signed in relief that Se-Mi was alive “Se-Mi..”

She smiled back in relief that you were still alive thankfully it was the last round “Atleast we’re alone in this together…..”

It was true we’d be in room for about 30 seconds till the hoodies took the bodies

You thooght for a second “Yeah….I’m glad it’s you though and not some creep….”

Se-Mi didn’t even care that you didn’t get gesture since atleast you both were alive

The two of you walked out in time cue Se-Mi avoided Thanos and dragged you away incase they tried to bother you

You and Se-Mi were then eating your food here she was pondering in thought again

You frowned she’s been thinking a lot lately is something bothering her? Is it someone at home? You were gonna finally ask that

“Hey Se-Mi…..are you okay?”

She snapped her head towards you “I’ve just been thinking about……something really important”

You smiled sweetly “Well you don’t have to tell me I’m just worried that’s all”

Se-Mis heart warmed over it “Well…..It’s you”

You laughed a bit “Me? Seriously do you have a crush on me or something”

Se-Mi could barely process what you just said is she supposed to laugh say she loves you in tears? It came off as “Well….Yeah i do like you”

“Oh why didn’t you make it obvious?” You quirked an eyebrow “I like you too”

[httpsryu]

b.f.s (best friend's sister) pt. 1

pairing: mo jihye x fem!reader

summary: it was always a thing, noticing your best friend's older sister. ever since you were a young girl.

category: strangers-to-friends-to-lovers au

genre: fluff, slight angst (?)

warnings: JEALOUSY

a/n: thanks for the anon who requested this! i had so much fun writing this :)

'it's only a year in the name of love'; you tell yourself as you cannot help but to look at your best friend's older sister, jihye who walks past you two and into the kitchen to grab a quick snack.

sure, you know jihye would never return your feelings back (hell, she doesn't even know about them) but it never hurts to dream a little bit over the beyond, right?

"earth to y/n~" your best friend, mo maya hits your head with her pen to grab your attention.

HUH??

"was i zoning out again?" you ask with a grin, already knowing you were in fact daydreaming about mo jihye.

maya nods with her signature upside down smile. "if you keep zoning out, we'll never get done with this science homework."

why is sophomore year so hard? especially, with the dreadful chemistry homework the teacher is constantly assigning.

"you two alright over there?" jihye comes out from the kitchen, her hand holding a bowl full of strawberries. "do you need help?"

maya groans, shaking her head as she grips on the pen. "i want to try to do this myself."

"suit yourself." jihye shrugs, turning to you. "y/n, do you need any help?"

locking eyes with THE mo jihye has got to be one of the best dreams come true, yet alone, this moment of her talking to you is also another dream come true. you cannot help but to nod at the older, scooting over to make room for the other to sit besides you.

jihye lets out a small smile, placing her bowl on the table next to your books before sitting down on the floor.

"hmm, let's see." she leans just a bit closer to you, however, you could smell the florals and a slight sandalwood scent exhibiting from her. "ahh, i remember how to do this."

jihye opens her hand out, waiting for you to drop your pen in.

"huh?" you let out, about to put your own hand in.

the other girl can't help but to laugh at your cuteness. "silly, i meant your pen."

'fuck my life' you curse to yourself mentally, handing the pen to her while feeling heat rush upon your face.

jihye smiles at you, giggling a little bit at how adorable you looked.

'cute.' she can't help but to think to herself, looking at you with adoration. (like a little sister, of course)

maya groans again, constantly erasing the blank line which at this point, is no longer existing. "i need a small snack break, do you want anything, y/n?"

you look up at your best friend, shaking your head at her. "thank you though."

"anytime darling." maya sticks her tongue out, running off into their kitchen.

jihye scoots her bowl of strawberries to you. "your favorite strawberries! here, have some."

"oh. i'm okay, thank you unnie." you smile at the girl besides you.

the older nods, trying to ignore the slight sadness of you rejecting her strawberries by looking back down at the question. "okay, for this one, all you have to do is balance the redox reaction by..."

you blank out, zoning out as you look at the older girl's delicate yet strong features. from her dark yet stunning eyes, her precious moles, her delicate but very standing cheekbones and how her lips always had the pretty shine to them.

it's no fair for the entire universe because mo jihye simply exists.

"do you understand it now?"

HUH? OH-

you take a few seconds to process the fact that you just zoned out again. daydreaming about jihye in front of her! how embarrassing is that?

"ohh, i see!" you lie, hoping she would not question you about it further.

putting the pen down, jihye proudly grins. "great! if you need extra help on anything else, let me know. you already know where my room is so just knock and i'll be here."

"thanks unnie." you shyly say, looking down at your homework.

jihye can't pinpoint how you feel about her. do you not like her? she's always have tried becoming closer to you, ever since she met you while she was 8 and you were 7. now, you guys are 18 and 17.

surely, she would think that you two would've been closer by now, however, you seem to be a bit distance and precautious around her.

"oh. of-of course." jihye manages to say without sounding a bit too upset. "i'll see you around, y/n."

you watch as the love of your life descended up the stairs, letting out a dreamy sigh afterwards. "jihye unnie is so pretty."

however, each moment cannot go unwasted without another one of maya's groan.

"why is there never any ice cream left?" maya exclaims, shutting the freezer with a slam before coming out the kitchen with oreos and pretzels.

you wait, in the usual place where you'll see jihye past by ONCE daily throughout the whole school.

"can we just go now?" kyujin whines, begging to leave for lunch already.

you turn to her with a glare, prompting her to sigh and sit down on the stairs.

"let y/n get her daily one glimpse of jihye." eunchae defends you, scanning the halls for any sign of maya.

maya doesn't know, she never noticed at all. even when you two were children. and she never will know. liking mo jihye is a secret from maya because you know maya won't tolerate it.

but then again; love makes you crazy, right?

at least that's what eunchae argues.

"in 5,4,3,2,1..i see her!" you exclaim, watching from the end of the hallway of jihye walking out with some friends.

kyujin and eunchae looks at how smitten you are, giggling at the way your eyes fall in love with jihye.

"she looks amazing." you barely manage to let out, noticing the way her hair is tied up into a high ponytail, the uniform she wore today compliments her complexion, and the light gloss on her lips always sealed the day for you.

eunchae reaches to tap on your shoulder, exclaiming. "maya's coming over here."

you really don't want to keep this a secret from maya, but having a liking towards her older sister is something you know maya will never let go of.

"act normal, act normal." kyujin clears her throat, taking out her portable mirror to fix her bangs.

your best friend spots you from across the hall, waving at you as her eyes lit up with love.

"you guys know you don't have to wait for me every day, right?"

you shrug, grabbing her arm to hook with yours. "why wouldn't we?"

okay; maybe you were here to see jihye but waiting for maya is also a plus. killing two birds with one stone, right?

"okay, i am starving!" kyujin whines even more, stomping her feet.

jihye comes back from school, expecting to see both you and maya sprawled out in the living room as usual. however, upon opening the door, jihye is met with just her sister.

"oh? no y/n?" jihye asks, taking off her shoes.

the younger sister makes a weird incoherent noise (no surprise there). "a girl asked her out today."

stopping in her tracks of untying her laces, jihye looks up. "a girl?"

maya raises one of her brows up, brushing off the weird reaction from her sister. "yeahh..? she's new, i'm sure it's for help around the library since she works there with y/n now."

"oh. cool."

"yep! anyways, wanna hang out and go for some ice cream?" the younger turns off the t.v, hoping her sister would want to spend time with her today.

jihye contemplates, for a second, she wanted to say no and lock herself in her room to figure out who this new girl is but she ultimately nods. "just let me change out of the uniform and we can head out."

"awesome!" maya smiles excitedly, jumping off from where she was sitting earlier and rushing over to put her shoes on. "we can go to the new shop y/n keeps raving about."

y/n.

jihye does not understand why but her heart has a weird ting at the sound of your name. she wishes you were here to go out and enjoy ice cream with them. she wants you to acknowledge her, to get rid of that awkward weird air around you two.

but, she can't figure out how.

"you're paying, right sis?" the small glint in maya's eyes leads jihye to exclaim a loud laugh.

jihye pats the younger's head. "yes, my treat."

"awesome, i did NOT have any money to my name."

"why did miss. lee gave us so many boxes to sort through?" you grumble to haerin, stretching out your arms after sitting down for a long period of time. "she normally gives us two boxes MAX."

haerin makes a noise in agreement, however her eyes are focusing on you and only you. she loves when you wear that pink bow in your hair, it looks really pretty on you.

"how are you adjusting to school?" you curiously ask, getting up from the chair as you start to tidy up the back room of the library.

the raven-haired girl sighs, folding the boxes flat so it would be easy to recycle. "it's nice, it's just hard making friends."

"that's because you're a shy, quiet, pretty girl." you respond, returning to the middle table to pick up the new books to stack at the back. "i had to introduce myself to you first."

haerin feels her heartbeat racing again, very loudly too. "you think i'm pretty?"

"uh huh! you're cute too! maybe that's why people are intimated to come up to you, i get it though." you giggle, looking back at your friend. "you know, my friends have been telling me about how they've been wanting to become closer to you."

"i don't know about that..y/n.." haerin comes over to you, handing you another stack of new books. "it's just crowded, you know?"

haerin is a really introverted girl, you understand her.

"the vibes is getting depressing in here, haha." haerin giggles, looking at the time on her phone. "we finished pretty early, do you wanna go grab some ice cream? my treat."

at the sound of ice cream, you could've sworn you heard birds chirping a beautiful tune. "um yes!! there's this new shop that my brother and i go to often!"

"well, looks like we're going there." haerin smiles softly at the way you look excited, she can't help but to continue staring.

you laugh, scanning the room as fast as you could before grabbing your backpack. "everything looks good here! front desk looks good too."

"guess the ice cream is calling us." the raven-haired female slings her backpack around, waiting for you to link your arm with hers. "let's go."

jihye blinks. once. twice. and once more.

WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE WITH A GIRL?

"oo, looks like haerin is finally making her moves." maya giggles behind her hand, looking afar from the entrance of the ice cream shop. "aww, wait, they're kinda cute."

haerin. cute? moves?

jihye doesn't like the sound of this at all.

how old is this haerin girl anyways? is she senior or some college freshie? why is she even allowed to make moves on you?

why has maya not said anything about this haerin girl to her until now? you're like a younger sister to jihye too!

"so..this haerin girl in your grade or something?" jihye asks, pulling out her wallet as she scans the ice cream options.

cookies and cream. you love cookies and cream.

"yeah, she's really quiet." maya replies, her eyes onto both haerin and you. "but, y/n tells us that haerin actually talks and laughs a lot."

you do have that effect on people. jihye just wishes you were more like that with her. is it because she's maya's OLDER sister? jihye doesn't think the one-year age difference isn't the cause of it but could it?

"can i have on scoop of cookies and cream and one scoop of dark chocolate?" jihye gets her card out of her wallet, trying to not think too much of you.

maya giggles, seeing the way haerin's eyes are melting with adoration for you. "look at her! she's basically in love!"

"woah! you guys are too young for love." jihye says with a slight weirdness in her tone, handing the card to the cashier. "besides, you should be focusing on trying to pass chemistry."

maya groans in response. "UGHH, you're only a year older than us."

"besides, i don't think y/n's the type to like someone at the moment." jihye is telling herself a lie, she doesn't even know if you are or aren't interested in all that romance stuff so why does she get to say that about you?

the younger nods, agreeing with her sister. "true. but, haerin can change that hehe."

"oh please." jihye rolls her eyes, handing the scoop of dark chocolate to maya before returning to the worker. "thank you!"

maya scans where to sit, contemplating on scoping in on the date or giving you two privacy since she knows how haerin is as a person.

"let's leave those two alone." maya is about to walk off into a different direction before jihye grabs her wrist.

"wait, let's sit kind of far from them but enough to check out what's going on over there." the brunette haired squints her eyes at how haerin is offering a spoonful of her ice cream to you.

maya raises one of her brows up, AGAIN! why is her sister acting so weird right now?

"i think we should just sit somewhere us..." maya trails off, not wanting to make her sister upset.

the older one ignores the younger, already making her way to a seat that's close enough yet far to spy on both you and haerin. (jihye is just being an overprotective older sister, right? RIGHT?)

upon sitting down, jihye watches as you accepted the spoonful of ice cream from haerin.

"NO!" jihye screams, afraid of you perhaps getting sick from the shared germs.

maya sighs, facepalming herself as she tries to hide her face from you.

you hear a specific voice; well known voice to you, perhaps, your favorite voice. "unnie?"

ehehehe; not me stopping on a cliffhanger :P

next part

march 23rd, 2024; publishing date

[littleplantfreak]

Run my hands through - Umemiya Hajime

Made a post about how much i loved Ume with his hair down yesterday and ended up writing something entirely self indulgent //gestures at this official art too

-SFW (but almost wasn't I almost got super carried away but deleted it cause I leave smut to the professionals) so uhhh marking/hickeys, hair pulling, makin' out with Umemiya and slightly possessive behavior on readers part but in a silly way if that makes sense just in case anyone has problems with that stuff.

You're looking at him more than usual. Umemiya can feel your eyes boring into the back of his head while he's re-potting plants on the roof. He asked you about it before but all you do is hum and say you think you're staring a normal amount. Of course he doesn't mind, but it feels like he's under a microscope. When he asked Kotoha if she knew why you were acting weird, she shrugged and said you'd were looking at some old pictures at the children's home so maybe you'd just been noting how different he looked in his childhood pictures. She ended it with a look and tone that conveyed you'd already asked her to keep something secret.

-----

It's his hair again. The hair that's always gelled back in a slight wave keeping it out of his face completely. It's not hard to break it free from the glassy prison he molds it into though. There have been plenty of times strands fell forward from sweating, working or fighting, but you've never seen it fully down in person. That's why, when you saw a semi-recent picture of him with his siblings, long hair falling in his face, trimmed neatly with ends blunt, you started to feel a certain way about it. You innocently asked Kotoha if she had any more pictures of Ume like that.

"Like what?"

"Like with his hair down."

"Oho you have a thing for his hair now?" She teases and although you know she won't tell him if you ask her not to, you're still embarrassed at being found out so easily.

"He's my boyfriend! I have a thing for nearly everything about him."

"But anyone can tell you're kinda obsessed with it with how much you fix and touch it throughout the day. Just ask him to wear it down for you."

It's not that you hadn't thought about it, but the more you thought, the more you started getting frustrated. Why didn't he wear it down more often? It seems like he did in old pictures. If he hated it now you didn't wanna force him to change it

Your self control was pretty good, but once you'd started really looking it was impossible to stop. His most recent fight with Shishitoren had haphazard strands in his face dislodged by sweat and aggressive movement. Of course you were concerned with the wounds spanning across his face and body, but another part of you wanted to eat him alive with how good he looked. You're not quite sure you'd be able to stop yourself from jumping him if you saw him with his hair fully down. Sitting in a chair on the roof, you watch him and think about the feeling of running your fingers through his white locks unhindered by that damn tough gel he puts in.

"Pumpkin can you hand me the small pruning sheers to your left?" he calls over without looking over at you.

"Mhmmm," you barely reply still stuck in a daze.

Pruning sheers...

Right!

You snap out of the daydreams that'd been haunting you to stand and grab them. Just as you're about to hand them over, Umemiya grasps the wrist with the sheers and pulls gently but firmly to drag you down on the ground with him. He sets the sheers down before taking both your hands in his.

"Something on my face? You've been starin' an awful lot."

"Ahh dirt, if I had to guess," a halfhearted excuse while your brain continued to process things slower than usual.

"Sweetheart baby love of mine," he is all dramatics now stringing pet names together in a silly amalgamation. Once he starts making direct eye contact it's hard to look anywhere else, "you have got to tell me whats going on in that beautiful head of yours. I love the attention but if something's bothering you-"

"It's your hair!" You spit out in a panic, drawing your hands away to cover your face in embarrassment. You can tell he's a little worried and it makes you feel even worse for making a big deal about it.

"My hair bothers you?" He's confused. Of course he is. It isn't something you've brought up in the past after all. He thought you liked his hair since you were always fixing it for him and you do. Your voice is muffled by your hands but he can still understand to a point.

"It looks great and I love it, but I reaaallly wanna see it down," you can hear yourself whining the words instead of saying them normally. "You always have it up when you're at school," taking a deep breath as your hands come off your face to speak more clearly. "I was looking at pictures with Kotoha and they're pretty much all of you with your hair down." Taking a second you twirl one of his loose strands around your finger in lieu of staring again, sincerely embarrassed you let it get to you this bad. He finally puts the pieces together from his conversation with Kotoha earlier.

"Our date night's tomorrow right? I'll wear it down then," he says, letting you mess with his hair. He can see a jolt go through you at his words and you lock eyes with him immediately.

"Really? Really really?" You're just about vibrating in place, grabbing his face with both hands and squishing his cheeks.

"Rweawy rweawy rweawy!" His breath is coming out of his nose in amused puffs due to the quick shift in enthusiasm and your hold on his face.

"I'VE GOTTA GO PICK MY OUTFIT OUT OH MY GOD ILOVEYOUBYE!" A small peck on the nose and you're gone like the wind throwing open the door and running past Sugishita who was on his way up the stairs. The long haired boy looks back at Umemiya with wide, questioning eyes before letting the moment pass, his head dips in the usual greeting before he walks over to do the daily gardening tasks.

_____

“I changed my mind we can’t go out tonight.”

“Babe you’re all dressed up and you were so excited to check out that new restaurant near the park,” Hajime sighs exasperated. You’re in the foyer of his home, hands on both sides of the door frame blocking his escape.

“Not looking like that you aren’t! Do you want every girl in a 20 mile radius to fall for you? The men too? I’ll have to fight every single one of them and of course I’d win but imagine the casualties! The collateral damage!” you cry hanging your head in fake hysterics. Both Kotoha and their other siblings have been watching this two-part comedy special for about 10 minutes now, two minutes of which you just STARED at him. Then you began circling like a hawk looking at him from any and all angles as if to commit it to memory. Then you started laying on the compliments and pick up lines but he could tell you meant every one of them. “Who is this absolute knock out in front of me? Is my boyfriend a model now? Did it hurt when you fell because I’m staring at an angel.”

Which brought you both to the current scene and while you were (for the most part) joking, you also…weren’t. You could and probably are just extremely biased but GOD you think no one could pull off that hair quite so well. Usually it takes a lot to make Umemiya blush, but his face is currently stained red by how brazen you are at the moment. He’s smiling and trying to take it in stride but even Kotoha can tell he’s affected by your display and she's relishing it.

“No more arguing,” he picks you up by the waist and hoists you to him in a hug that leaves your face in his chest and feet off the floor. “We’re heading out now.” He sends a farewell back to your amused audience and the kids yell back a cacophony of teases and calls for their onee-san and onii-san to come back soon. You start muffling unrecognizable words into his shirt before he puts you down as he gets further down the street.

“It would’ve been one of the best ways to die if i’d stayed there a little longer,” you breathe and stumble back a bit.

“You are shameless today,” he laughs and goes to hold your hand. Anyone watching you both can tell you're grossly in love by the dreamy look on your face as you watch him while you walk down the street. You realize now that this is the first time in about two weeks you have him to yourself, which may be why you've been clingier than normal. Every time either of you tried to schedule date night with the other, someone or something came up and made you push date night back.

Going two weeks without any prolonged physical contact (save for hello and goodbye hugs or kisses) with your boyfriend has made you starved for him in every way your brain can fathom, which is why it isn't surprising that you end up dragging him through the park to an alcove you know isn't traveled to often. It also isn't surprising when you sit him down on the bench bracing a knee next to him, and pinning him loosely in place. He doesn't say a word, but tilts his head up slightly angled in favor of you closing the distance, daring you with those stormy grey eyes.

Your hands find their way easily to the soft ivory of his hair, delving deeper to twist and pull him in. Caught between a sigh and a moan, Umemiya Hajime is melting into you, lines blurring and nerves on fire. His hands fumble to grab the thigh closest to him as he moves you to straddle him. You haven't let up on your assault on his senses, fingers loosening their hold to rub small circles into his scalp.

Is this how you feel when he goes all out after stress starts to take it's toll on him? Now that he thinks about it he's always been the one to initiate this kind of thing, but god he would've asked you to take the lead sooner if he knew it felt this good. Heartbeat thrumming through his hands, he runs them in a soothing pattern from the top of your hip to you knee giving your legs the occasional extra squeeze.

A wave of calm shifts the clouds filling your head out as you have an idea. Parting from him briefly you start kissing and mouthing your way down to the collar of his shirt. He squeezes your thighs harder as your breath ghosts his neck and you give it a few experimental nips before cooling the spot with your tongue. He's trying to stifle a high pitched noise in the back his throat but once you hear it you latch on biting and sucking a single bright red mark. A soft breath over your work before you sit back to admire it. The mark peeks out just enough for you to see it right now but low enough that when he's wearing his furin jacket, he'll be able to hide it.

"That was-," you start, still breathless.

"Wow," he voice cracks at the same time. His eyes are a little wild but his hair is even wilder, sticking up in some directions and falling flat in others. Giving a small tap on his arm he releases the deathgrip he had on you before his eyes stick right to where he had been holding. Blue bruises are scattered over both legs where his fingers were, but they're just barely hidden once you fix your dress.

"Guess we're uh...even?" you're suddenly bashful at what was probably the same type of stare you've been giving him for a week straight now. Umemiya runs his own hands through his hair trying to catch his breath and make himself a little more presentable too.

"No way are we close to being even you little monster. After dinner I'm getting you back," and you can tell he's not bluffing.

"I'm shaking in my shoes Haji," you shot back feeling a bit more like yourself as you go to grab his hand. He moves towards you but you end up spun around and he picks you up for the second time that night, this time settled on carrying you bridal style.

"Put me down," you squeak in warning, the skirt of your dress no longer hiding the fresh bruises.

"This is part of your punishment sweetheart. Also, no one's coming after me if I carry you around like a princess right?" It was hard to argue with that logic and to be fair, despite your earlier boldness your legs ended up weak. He had probably seen the shaky steps you took towards him a second ago.

Both of you got to the restaurant in time despite the detour and the next day you were sporting a hoodie to hide the payback you took happily after.

[swaps55]

Hi! I'm actually obsessed with Opus rn (like I'm daydreaming about it at work. You broke me). Anyways, I was wondering about your writing process for it! When did you first get the idea for it, and when did you start writing it? What does your revision process look like? Did you plan for it to be a full trilogy + more retelling or did it spiral out of Sonata? It's so amazing and I'm so happy that you're writing it :)

Talk about a dream question!!! I could go on about this for days.

Opus was directly inspired by @urrone, who back in 2019 had the lovely idea of creating a playlist and writing a short fic for each song. I'd been itching to get back into writing fanfic after a long hiatus, but hadn't found the right story to write. A songfic playlist suddenly gave me some direction. In the past I'd written a lot of short stories about a generic mshenko Shepard, and I knew certain things about how I saw that romance unfolding (such as them serving together before the Normandy), but I had never written anything consistent with a particular Shepard. So I figured I would try my hand at a short story collection tracing an mshenko relationship across the trilogy.

ONE work. Maybe 15 or so chapters, each one its own self-contained short. I still have the outline somewhere.

Now, let's be clear, this was never going to be how it actually worked in practice. This was a pipe dream. XD

As soon as I wrote the story that became the first chapter of Cantata I realized how much context I would need to set up their relationship before we ever got to the Normandy. I continued on in my delusion, however. ONE story. All 3 games plus the pre-trilogy roots. ONE.

Then I got stuck at Sharjila, and that's how Sonata, which was intended to be a silly one-shot diversion, happened. And once Sonata was written, it wasn't silly, and it wasn't a one-shot. But to fit it into my 'canon' relationship timeline, I'd have to change how I envisioned what I was doing. Sonata was a novel. So the other stories in it would have to be, too.

Each one has had a slightly different writing process. Sonata was chaos to write. I wrote an entire 30k word draft that I threw in the trash. (I was so rusty and had let some bad habits and lazy storytelling get in my way.) I wrote it out of order. I had no idea where the story was going or what I was doing. I figuratively closed my eyes and just let it come out on the page. It was a possession, from start to finish. It was 100% pantsed.

Instead of going back to what was now Cantata (which was also a mess, thanks to all the aforementioned rust), I rode my momentum into Fugue. But it was so brutal, and I knew I was eventually going to hit a point where everything that had happened on the 'Yang was going to become very important to Kaidan. At this point in time NO one but me knew who Pendergrass, Aslany, Beaudoin, and Captain Oseguera were, aside from a couple of references in Sonata. But for Fugue to work, people needed to care about what had happened before ME1, and miss those characters. So I put Fugue on the shelf to let myself recover, and went back to Cantata.

Cantata is closer to my original idea than the rest of Opus - it is a series of interconnected short stories. Each one tells a pretty complete story that stands on its own, but together they all create a bigger whole. While I had a rough idea of what I wanted to achieve with each story/chapter, I had no idea how I was going to do it until I started writing it. My 'outline' for Fall From Your Ladder says, "N5 training is a bitch. Fuck Benning," with no further notes.

Cantata was a joy to write. I miss writing it more than any other story. Even when it was hard (looking at YOU, scene transitions in Facing Giants), it was fun.

I think once Cantata was finished I was still scared of Fugue, so I did a quick detour to Concerto, which was a wholly different writing experience because I was adapting something I had already written, an ME1 novelization called Exordium, to tailor it for Sam. I only took on the Virmire piece of it, because it felt important. I have had no interest in writing a different take on ME1 from what I'd already done, because I love what I did. Someday I might do the rest of it, and make Concerto a larger story. But the bite-sized challenge of identifying what worked for Sam, what didn't, what needed to be added and what needed to be dropped or modified was a lot of fun.

Fugue was work. The first half before I took the break was still mostly pantsing: having a vague idea of what I wanted to accomplish and figuring out how as I went. The second half was...whew. In addition to managing Kaidan's grief and making his journey through it feel authentic, I had to start setting a chess board for a re-wired ME3 ending that I've been pondering for over a decade. I had to get more organized than I usually do when I write. I didn't do detailed outlines, but I did write thought dumps so I could think my way through all the different threads and how they needed to connect. Fugue was emotionally and technically VERY complex, and I did a lot of agonizing over each piece of it. The Weight of Everything and Remember We Flew were two of the most complicated and difficult chapters I have ever pieced together.

And now we're at Mezzo. Mezzo has been a different kind of hard for personal reasons. I'm burned out on a lot of fronts, so writing just isn't the sanctuary I can retreat to like it has been. My commitment to it is unwavering, but it just hasn't gone as smoothly or quickly as I would like. It doesn't help that ME2 is a disaster of a narrative - it's like a 24 episode TV season with monster of the week episodes peppered with the occasional overarching plot, which is great for a TV series but terrible for a novel format. Too many characters, too many disconnected plot lines, and a thin central narrative that ultimately has little impact on the overall trilogy. It's a great game, but it's a nightmare to turn into a conventional narrative.

It's also a very different experience writing through on-screen game events. I don't like regurgitating what readers already know, so when I need to do it, I try to find a different angle or perspective that gives you something new to chew on. My main approach has been to more or less let the plot and game events happen in the background wherever I can. If I don't have anything meaningful to add or change, there's no reason to put them in present action, so they happen off screen (like Freedom's Progress). The beauty of fanfic is that I can do that, because I know the reader already has the information I am leaving out.

Another tricky thing about Mezzo is telling a story that centers on someone's downward trauma spiral without access to their POV. Every time the story has gotten stuck, it's been because I have forced the POV character to fixate on Sam rather than let them be the hero of their own story. When I go back and instead let the POV character put themselves first, Sam does what the story needs him to do in the periphery, and the writing imitates what's happening to Sam: he is spiraling out of control and people aren't seeing it. But the reader does. :)

I could say so much more, but this is SO long and you deserve a cookie if you have read this far. Thank you so much for asking!!

[theforestwisperings]

Colentine headcanons for the soul 🌾

Hi uhm I didn't have anything to say like a justification

I just want to write something of the sillies being affectionate with each other

Disclaimer: this are headcanons!

This is NOT CANON and doesn't have the intention of spread misinformation. If you want to know more about yaelokre's world, check their social medias!

Also, don't took this too seriously, my dear.

Cole is the sensitive one. They really Preserve any little detail that clémentine gives to them. Flowers? They dry it just to having that in their notebooks. Letters? Have a special place to Guard that. Sometimes, when they feel overwhelmed, they Read and see all the little details

Cole Love language? Affirmation words. They truly fell loved when clémmie says that they're the "most brilliant mind" that they know, or when they say that they did everything so well

They also love to make acts of service ( in general, with any lark) but one of the most cute habits that clémmie and them is brushing each other hair. Surprisingly, cole have a soft hand to Untangle clémmie hair (a/n:the curse of the curls LMAO) . Clémmie loves to braid their hair. Sometimes they put flowers onto cole's hair, and say some little words like “you are perfect”, “you're everything that i love”(im going to write something like this I promise)

Clémmie gives cole a little hand made hare plush because "it reminds me of you!" (That was with all the intention posible)

Cole try to make a goat plush to clémentine. They failed miserably in the process but clémmie have it anyway

Cole learns origami and gives clémmie an origami goat that they preserve. If someone touches the little goat, clémm goes mad

The first lark that notice the cole and clémm feelings was Kingsley. Being so close to clémm, they heard every single thinking of clémentine (tbh they don't have any option) and sometimes they are around cole when they daydream constantly about clémmie

Talking about being honest with emotions, both have difficults to admit that they are really falling in love.

Talking about daydreaming. Before being honest with their emotions, cole was always in their world, that world when they was bravery enough to express themselves.

Cole Loves cuddles. But they never say that openly (is too shy) clemm, in the other case, loves give everyone cuddles (but the special ones are always for cole)

Cole fall in love first, clémm do it harder.

Cole Gets flustered easily. Even their own thinkings are capable of making them so shy. Clémmie is more Affective, that's true, but they have some cute details with cole

Cheek kisses, forehead kisses. Cute kisses all around. When they have an stage presentation. They front foreheads as a little “good luck kiss”

Sleep together. Cole really enjoys the heartbeat of Clem and hugs them so much. Clémentine loves giving them kisses in their hair.

Talking about sleeping together, the body temperature of Cole is so low, instead clemm have a warm body

Cole smells like vanilla. And clémentine loves that. Clémentine smells like lavender. That calms a lot to cole (and ofc they love that)

Portraits of each other>>>>

Clémentine loves to send cole Scented letters

AAAAAAH I'm promise that I'm going to share some Perrine and Kingsley fraternal headcanons. Im writing this in my lunch time with mum. UHHH I love this two. My health get better! Not dizziness anymore!!!1!

Autor notes:

HELLO LONG POST🐈

I know that there's some headcanons that are too long, my apologies

Today I'm going to cut my hair. I'm going to make a little change

Live laugh love colentine 🐐🐇

—affectionate headbumps, Calli 🐐✨

[aylish91]

I don’t know if you’ve answered an ask like this before, so sorry if you have, but what does your writing process look like? Is there a certain space you like to write in? A time? Music? Do you have an outline that you follow or do you write more according to your mood? Do you have to plan to write or do you jot things down as they come to your mind?

I’ve found that I need to like write out a bunch of garbage - like at least three chapter’s worth - and sit on it for a bit before I tear into it and rearrange it and I’m just wondering how writing looks for other people.

Thanks in advance, I really admire your writing and how lovely your descriptions always are :)

Thank you so much for the ask and for liking my writing!!! It really means a lot!

Brace yourself, it’s a bit of a long one. It’s got some peeks of things though~

~~~

I have two places that I like to write at the most: Shoved in the corner at the table with my laptop and in the corner at my computer desk on the desktop. (I like to have notebooks or paper around to write down random thoughts. Hehe.) Time of day usually doesn’t matter, just whenever I am not desperately busy.

Unfortunately, my brain gets distracted remarkably easily. I cannot have music on while I am writing, otherwise, I find myself unable to think about what I’m writing and only about the song. It also gets me sucked into YouTube or doomscrolling.

As for my writing process… It really depends on what I am doing or writing.

For example, a lot of the requests I have written have been “in the moment” type of things. I get an overall sense of what I want it to look like, start typing, and see where the words take me. These take a lot of, what I like to call, “daydream time”. The story stews and rolls around in my brain in bits and pieces until the right combinations make their way into one coherent piece. As you can imagine, the amount of time that takes varies. Sometimes I can crank it out after thinking about it, within a day or two. Sometimes what my mind wants doesn’t end up working in the document and it takes several chunks written, sliced, and completely redone before it starts to form properly. (All versions or thoughts I don’t want to forget or that I might still use, get put at the end of the document.)

*** A tip I have been implementing a lot more lately is: It is perfectly okay to start over. It could be a scene, an opening, or an entire document. Sometimes what you want, is not necessarily what it needs. If it’s not working, don’t force it. It never turns out to your “standards” and just ends up wasting a lot of your time. If you need to, work on the next part or something else until your mind settles enough to figure it out. ***

For other projects or WIPs, my imaginings fester long enough or hit hard enough that I write down everything I can about it so I will remember. It is all chaotic. More serious works get vague chapter outlines or fully paraphrased if I have more in-depth musings. My favorites even get background information for future chapters~ (There are even times I write a whole scene on paper.)

Now, keep in mind that I am all over the place and very disorganized. My notes can and have been done on random bits of paper, written in a document or notebook, or scribbled on anything I can physically get my hands on. Many a quote has been put on random doodle pages because I didn’t want it to disappear once my squirrel mind flitted away. Guardians of the Deep was paraphrased on an old stained paper on my nightstand/dresser at 3:00 in the morning because I refused to let the dreamed inspiration leave me…

With all the information I store, I eventually write based on the information and what the visions have left me. I only get about a chapter or one short done before I too am leaving it for a bit. Depending on how fast I want to get it out or how busy I am, it might be for several hours or a couple of days. I find that time helps me spot things that could be better, fixed, or that I have missed (After all, all first drafts are going to be a little bit awful and I still manage to miss stuff after the go throughs… Sigh. Hahaha!). It also helps get my mind out of it’s tunnel vision. After that, I simply try to edit the best I can and post.

It’s wonky and all over the place, but it seems to work for me.

[farfromstrange]

New Year's Day | Matt Murdock x Reader

Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Summary: You recount your history with Matt and the highs and the lows of your relationship.

Warnings: Fluff, descriptive writing & lack of dialogue, mentions of blood, but this is mostly very tame

Word count: 2.5k

A/n: This One-Shot is dedicated to my bestie, @blackshadowswriter. I'm a bit late, and I'm sorry for that. It took me a bit to finish. I just want to tell you how much I love and appreciate you. I also know you love Taylor, so I thought "why not write a fic and use as many song references as possible? She's going to LOVE that!" You're my favorite person in the world and you deserve this. I love you. I'm all out of words because I'm anxious as hell about showing you this. It took me two days to finish. I wanted it to be as good as I could make it. I'm still not 100% sure, but I never am when it comes to giving gifts. I hope you like it <3 (This is also why I'm not tagging anyone else because this is a gift for my best friend and I intended it as such)

From the moment you bumped into him on the corner street of your favorite café, you knew that he was the kind of chance that would only come around once in a lifetime.

It wasn’t like you, at least not back then, to buy a stranger a coffee. And it was even less like you to give him your number afterward.

You had never been big on dating at that point in your life. You used to take things exactly the way they came to you, and dating never really seemed to fit into that narrative.

You preferred to lose yourself in your own world, a world where no one could touch or hurt you the way you’ve been hurt so many times in the past by people who claimed to care about you—people who claimed to love you, and in the process, you lost sight of the fact that there are still a handful of good people out there.

No one can blame you for thinking like that though. Your heart has been broken one too many times, and not just by broken relationships. 

Deep down, you craved to find someone capable of understanding all of you, not just the pretty parts. You almost felt pathetic for pretending you didn’t need it and still thinking that way.

But deep down, you craved to find someone who wouldn’t be afraid of sticking around, someone who would never leave you because life tends to get hard.

It seemed nearly impossible to find a person like that without breaking your own heart, so you decided to retreat into your shell. Better to keep your heart safe and protected than put yourself out there and be broken all over again, right?

Those stupid love songs on the radio and the endless romantic stories of your friends’ dating lives, however, fueled your need for the same kind of connection only a few songwriters know how to put into words.

You wanted to fall in love, find the right person, and heal. You wanted to figure out why love wasn’t like the burning red of sex and passion but golden, like daylight. A love living for. A love fighting for.

You felt so stupid, secretly pining for an innocent childhood dream that eventually got crushed after years of heartbreak, but that is what happens when someone becomes chronically lonely. You turned to daydreaming because at least in your head, your life could be perfect. Not just good, not just livable, but filled with love and happiness.

Truth be told, when you’re your own worst enemy and have an inner saboteur set out to destroy everything that could be remotely good for you because you truly believe you don’t deserve it, it’s hard to allow yourself to be open. So perhaps that is why you chose to lock yourself away and live in delusion instead. Not facing reality became standard procedure in your way of life.

You tried blaming it on your past, your broken relationships, and disappointments, and while that played a big part in your trauma, you also slowly started to realize that you might have been hurting yourself so you wouldn’t have to open up ever again.

In an attempt to erase all the problems, you became the problem. You became your worst enemy, someone chasing ghosts that stayed long in the past and only came back to haunt the living shit out of you. But that’s a survivable condition. 

You tried therapy, you tried turning your life around and starting anew, and while that helped you find a job you love, find a nice group of friends, and make peace with what’s been broken, nothing else seemed to change. 

You had barely started putting yourself back together again when you bumped into him. You were late for a meeting, so your focus was on your phone instead of the street before you.

It was your fault. He was just trying to make his way over the sidewalk, his cane tapping in a steady rhythm to make his way forward, and you stepped right in the middle of it. 

You remember him grabbing your arm, catching you before you could fall. He wasn’t even irritated. When you looked up in shame, seeing the red glasses and the came, you begged for the floor to open up and swallow you whole. 

“I’m so sorry,” you said. “I wasn’t looking. Are you okay?”

But before you could go on a rant about your stupidity, he cut you off, and in the silkiest voice possible, he said, “I’m fine. Don’t worry about it. Are you?” 

“What?”

“Are you okay? You seem in a bit of a rush. Don’t want you to accidentally bump into a car next.” He chuckled, adjusting his glasses. Blood rushed to his cheeks. “That was a bad joke, sorry.”

You just about melted. “It’s okay,” you found yourself chuckling. “And so am I. I was too focused on my phone. That was my fault.”

“Don’t blame yourself. It happens,” he said. He was so calm about it, unlike other New Yorkers you’ve met before.

Maybe the fact that you found him extraordinarily attractive and easy to be around compelled you to ask if you could buy him a cup of coffee to make up for bumping into him, completely abandoning your plans to make it to your work meeting five minutes late.

He introduced himself as Matthew. A lawyer. Not one of those rich defense attorneys who simply do it for the money. No, he does it to help people, and you fell for him right then and there. 

Maybe it was fate, maybe it was destiny, or maybe it was just dumb luck, but that day, when you got home after work, his number in your phone and a stupidly giddy smile on your flushed face, you knew that you’d somehow been enchanted to meet him. 

You never believed in love at first sight until you bumped into Matt Murdock, but the second you did, your life flipped upside down and changed in ways you could have never predicted. 

It is possible that the song playing over the speakers in the café right before you bumped him played a part in how you perceived the interaction. You’ve never been one to believe in coincidences. Nothing is ever accidental, and neither was your meeting. It couldn’t have been. 

You found each other when you needed someone, anyone, both of you, and it stuck. Thankfully, it did. 

Summer that year was cruel with New York drowning in an excruciating heatwave. You’d been meeting up with Matt for a couple of weeks, but you didn’t have it in you to put a label on whatever delicate thing was starting to build between the two of you. You didn’t want to wrap your hand around it and accidentally shatter something you could see growing into something more in the future. 

He was unlike anyone you’d met before, and he treated you in a way that made you believe, finally, that you are worthy of love. Not just giving but receiving because Matt himself struggled to see his worth after years of being disappointed and being there for everyone but himself. 

Love is a fragile thing though, and you have never been quite good with fragile things.

After a night of drinking away your sorrows at a nearby bar, you made your way to his apartment. You took a cab, too wasted to find your way there by yourself. You remember that you were crying; you were miserable and loathing yourself for several reasons that didn’t even make sense to you then.

When you arrived there, you knocked on his door. You didn’t get an answer. Just as you started to turn around and make your way back outside, you could hear a thud from the other side of the door. Panic settled in. You didn’t even hesitate before you opened the door, which was surprisingly unlocked, and made your way into the dark interior of his apartment. 

Finding your blind, catholic not-boyfriend in a pool of his own blood, wearing a leather-clad suit with the horns of the devil had not been on your to-do list until that night. Reality hit you just as fast and knocked sobriety back into your senses as the adrenaline started to take over. 

He let out a grunt. Your name passed his lips. He sounded so weak, so fragile, and you just stood there, your heart pumping too much blood for your body to handle. 

“What the fuck?!” you said. You didn’t yell, you didn’t snap, you simply didn’t know how to process this information. 

You were well aware of the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen parading outside at night, beating up criminals and giving them a good fright—Matt did not fit the picture you had of the guy until you saw him lying there, obviously injured. 

“It’s not what it looks like,” he said hoarsely. He tried to roll over, but the pain turned out to be too severe. 

Needless to say, he passed out on you without a proper explanation, and you somehow had to use what little you could remember from first-aid to help this bleeding mess of a man. You feared that you would lose him that night, and that was when you realized that, on top of falling for him, you didn’t care who he was, you only needed him to live.

When he woke up to you hovering over him, he groaned. “I’m sorry,” was all he said. “I’d understand if–”

“Don’t talk,” you cut him off with a finger on his lips. You wouldn’t let him push you away. Not after everything you’d been through.

He tried to sit up. “I didn’t know how to tell you.”

“It’s not exactly something you lead with on a first date. I get it. What I don’t get…”

“I didn’t lie,” it was his turn to cut you off. You remember looking up at him, and you heard him out. You had to. In your mind, there is an explanation for everything, and you were once again proven right at that moment.

He bared his life story to you, how he survived through tragedies no human should ever have to face. How he turned blind, how his senses heightened, and how he lost the one person he could always count on. When his father died, something changed in Matt. He tried to go straight, to do his father proud, but he couldn’t ignore this desperate need for justice forever. He felt cursed. So, he became someone who could make a difference, and not just as a lawyer.

He expected you to walk out, but you didn’t. You saw him for who he was, and you accepted him.

“I think I’m falling for you, and it scares the hell out of me,” you blurted out that night.

He stared at you, his unfocused eyes bewildered, his lips moving soundlessly as he tried to find an answer.

Just when you thought he would break your heart after putting your trust in him, he let out a shaky sigh and he kissed you.

He wasn’t ready to say it back just yet, but he spoke to you through actions that made you feel confident in what you were growing again.

You somehow already knew back then that Matt Murdock would be the man you one day would marry and spend the rest of your life with. 

The truth is, you two have been through a lot throughout your relationship. It hasn’t always been smooth sailing, but you would be lying if you said that it wasn’t worth it. 

From the moment you met him to the countless dates, sharing coffees over empty takeout containers, kissing in the rain, Daredevil, fighting over the beautiful women in his life that almost broke you, and fighting over his desperate need to push those away who only want what is good for him because he is own worst saboteur.

It all led you down a journey that turned out to be harder than expected and not at all the love story you envisioned, but it still turned out to be the best thing that has ever happened to you. He is the best thing that has ever happened to you. 

You used to run away from happiness out of fear of getting hurt, and Matt did the same. He feared to admit it, but then he met you and he finally realized that running was of no use because you were more than ready to stick around through everything. Through every disaster and heartache—through every broken bone, you stuck around.

You saw something in him from the moment you met that no one can ever take away. You got a taste of heaven from the devil himself, and even though he was darker than the sunshine you wished for in your life, you managed to find a way to bring some light into his life. 

You are sunshine, even on your worst days, and he’s midnight rain. But you love the rain. You love him. 

Your first kiss happened in the rain. He took your hand and asked you to dance, and you did. You danced to the sound of the raindrops pattering against the asphalt beneath your feet, and it was the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen—Matt engulfed in the soft moonlight, his hand in yours, and a big smile on his irresistible lips. 

You want more of those nights. Even the nights you’ve had to patch him up or hold him as he broke down from all the weight he often enough carries on his shoulders, you want more of those. You want all of them.

You want him and all the strings attached to him, no matter how painful because ever since he can remember, people have walked out on Matt and hurt him in ways you can only fathom. You don’t want to be that person. 

He opened up to you. He decided to be vulnerable. He stood with you through everything and fought for you when you thought you two wouldn’t last.

He gave you his best smile and his tears, and he laughed with you every night that you waited up for him to come home safely. He quickly became the moonlight to your sun—it is a different kind of light, but it is a light that sustains you nonetheless. 

You want all of his laughter and never miss it again. You want his smiles. You want his tears. You want to spend every waking second with him. You want to miss him and welcome him back home after an agonizingly long night of worrying. You want to cheer him up in court and be his lucky charm. You want to wear his initial on a chain around your neck, in Braille, because he got it for you on your birthday. 

“I know I don’t own you,” he said to you, “but I love you. And I know you. I want you to carry me close to your heart the same way I’ll always carry you close to mine.”

And his, you are. You’re no one else’s but his, and even if that sounds a bit territorial, you don’t care. You want all of it and more because it’s Matt you’re talking about, no one else. Not a stranger but the man you love so desperately it hurts sometimes.

All the girls he loved before don’t matter because he’s got you now. You forgave him more times than he probably deserved. You held on when he barely had any strength left. In return, he has shown the same kind of devotion to you time and time again. How can you ever say no to any of that when you are so in love? 

All those memories replay in sudden flashing sequences right in front of your inner eye. You love him more than anyone has ever loved him. You pulled him out of a very dark hole. You saved his life. And he saved yours. 

As he’s kneeling in front of you now, your hand in his and clutching the small, velvety box in his other, your life passes by before your eyes. Your life alone and your life together. You recount every memory in a millisecond, too shocked to even comprehend what is happening. But it is happening. 

Matt Murdock is kneeling on the floor before you, the glitter, confetti, and sticky champagne someone spilled earlier most likely leaving a stain on his good dress pants, but he remains unwavering in his decision to open that little box and show you what he’s been hiding for a while. 

It’s a diamond ring, something he probably took months to save up for. It’s small yet elegant, and it’s staring right at you. He’s taken his glasses off to try and do the same. You would marry him with paper rings, that much is true. 

Matt says your name oh-so-softly. “Will you marry me?” Four words that stop your heart and restart it at the same time. 

He sees right through you. You see right through him. Even in your worst times, you were there for each other, and now he’s asking you to spend the rest of your life with him. Together. To give him all of your days and nights and he will give you all of his in return. He is asking you the question you’ve been wondering if he would ever ask it, and he did. 

The fireworks go off in the distance, in your stomach, everywhere. The new year has rounded the corner. People are cheering and celebrating around you, but you don’t pay attention to them. 

The clock strikes midnight and with the softest smile, you say, “Yes.” You don’t need to tell him that you would do it a million times over because he knows. He knows your heartbeat, and he knows that you would never lie to him. 

He doesn’t waste time to pull you into his arms and kiss you softly, passionately, as if both of your lives depend on it. 

It’s a bit cliché, to get proposed to on New Year’s Eve. To start the new year with the man you love and a ring on your finger. But that only means that you will still be together on New Year’s Day, and all the days after that. 

Matt chose you. You chose Matt. You chose a life together that is as unpredictable as they come, but at least you have each other to hold onto. 

And he will never be just the stranger that you bumped into in front of your favorite corner café ever again. You have him now. Maybe that was your plan all along. Maybe you are the mastermind he knows that you are. None of it was accidental. 

And now, Matt Murdock is yours. Forever and always. 

[luveline]

how do u deal with adult loneliness? i’m 22, i live at home but my family’s never been close to do stuff or hang out and work is just not an environment i can be close to people in and all my friends work or live together so i don’t ever get to spend time with them like they do each other so i always feel out of the loop. i come home and just hang out by myself and it’s been making me so sad recently. (i’m so sorry for venting in ur asks but u seem very wise.)

I am so sorry I wrote a massive answer to this and it just didn’t save but most of it wasn’t helpful anyways so let’s do round two of the better points

it’s totally okay to vent if you want, I can’t always answer but I try to when I can cos I know how it feels to really want to tell someone something and feel like you have no one to tell! I am also a very lonely adult, but I used to be even lonelier, and here are the things I do to cope with being lonely and to improve how often I feel lonely

I think we must first poke the relationship between poor self-esteem and loneliness, I hope you love yourself dearly but if you don’t it does tend to make you feel lonelier, so if that’s one of the reasons here is my case as to why you should like yourself more : you said you come home and hang out with yourself and that makes you sad but I actually loved how you phrased it, you’re hanging out with you. Not only are you unique and special and interesting, but you do have the ability to be your own company (though I won’t suggest it’s easy to just suddenly feel content by yourself OR that this will erase the need for connection with others). But I do think that anyone who knows you is experiencing a great privilege and that you should feel that way about yourself, you are amazing, you can do amazing things. my scenario was when you’re with Friend A, you’re not lonely because Friend A is amazing and good company. When Friend A goes home she feels lonely too, but why? Wasn’t she amazing to be around? I think if you can put some weight on the pleasure of being yourself even if that’s like. Even if it’s just that when you’re alone you don’t have to worry about being judged, and you give yourself leniency or something, does that make sense?

My next point is that to cope with loneliness I started writing about wish fulfilment stuff, fics where someone appreciated me, loved me, saw my struggles, and I read those so much. When I first started writing, a thousand words probably took me a week, and I would just constantly reread the things I wrote because they always made me feel less alone, even the process of writing now years later makes me feel less alone. If I couldn’t write I’m sure I’d constantly feel alone because I don’t have many friends either and I don’t see them much!! I feel so out of the loop with everything that I realised I actually can’t deal with social media and the feelings they give me and I deleted them all over again a few weeks ago (besides of course this and one other evil app). It’s actually my big recommendation to everyone ever to get off of social media if you can but I totally understand that it’s not easy and can make it worse rather than better. My point here before is that having a hobby and something to work on and to be with yourself instead of by yourself is a great way to deal.

Other ways I coped with loneliness were jigsaw puzzles (so many), rewatching the same TV shows, movies, reading A LOT, daydreaming, learning how to make friendship bracelets, nature documentaries (especially good to see how huge the world is)

If being alone is upsetting you and you can’t cope, please don’t be afraid to reach out for help. You’re very important, and the way you feel is important to. You don’t have to suffer through any bad feelings even loneliness which may feel incurable alone. In the UK there are lots of free resources (many terrible) but ones I would actually recommend are the Samaritan email service and the SHOUT crisis text line for stress anxiety and depression. Both are busy services which can make the loneliness more exasperating but they can help when you’re feeling awful. I’m really sorry you’re feeling lonely right now because it’s an awful feeling that genuinely goes to the bone, and I hope you feel less alone soon!! I’m sorry if this has assumed anything wrong about you but just based off of how I experienced my worst loneliness and what I did to feel better I hope my advice can help you ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

[aekatty]

melt my heart ₊˚ʚ 🧊 ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

a/n: i have a hard time finding unique words to add into my writing, it honestly sucks. also, gonna try to get jjk stuff out if i can.

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆

!! series !!

─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ───

18+ !! MINORS DNI

─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ───

cw: aphrodisiac fruit, flicking da bean, female anatomy/pronouns, f!receiving, gray a freaky dom, reader subby but it’s ok, degradation..

tags ✮⋆˙  afab!reader x gray, enemies to lovers, smut, angst

now playing: wild thoughts - dj khaled, rihanna & bryson tiller

❅ chapter 2: wild thoughts ❅

You pondered by the window, watching as the trees and and fields blurred from the speed of the train. You could feel a pit in your stomach as you thought about the idea of going on a quest with the ice wizard. Usually, you teamed up with Natsu and Happy when doing jobs, but with the both of them out the guild at this moment, you had to take the low blow by temporarily teaming up with Gray Fullbuster. Nonetheless, it was only one job and after that, it’s back to becoming enemies again. Plus, you’re desperate for money.

You halted your daydreaming as you looked down at the job flyer, studying it's contents, especially the hefty reward. You calculated how you could split it into 50/50 with your fingers before you hear a slight chuckle. As you looked up, you noticed Gray smirking at you, his white jacket drapped over the velvet seats as his legs were shifted into a man-spread.

"Man, I just wanna get this job over with so I can go back to napping," he laid his head upon his hand as he stared upon the sceneic view of the passing greenery.

You sighed, "Trust me, I'm in the same boat. If we wanna finish this in time, we're gonna have to work together."

He chuckled at your response, "Say, [Name], why do you hate me so much? You've always had it out for me since we were kids."

You stayed silent at his question. Your hatred for Gray had multiple layers to it that it was simply too much to unveil to well...him. Every time you see his face, all you could think about is the moment you saw his master giving up her life to save the shirtless idiot. If you were in his shoes, you would've never dared to face the ruthless demon known as Deliora, and she would've been alive today. A hasty idiot who let his own master die, how could you not hate him?

"...You just left a bad impression on me, plus I hate your face," you go back to inspecting the flyer.

He hissed at your words, "So you're basically just mad at me for nothing?!"

"Look, can you save the hostility for the battlefield, or the very least, after we're done with the mission?" You rolled your eyes.

He growled at your response before going back to his original position, his body slumped onto the seat, "Whatever, witch..."

You both decided it was best to stay silent for the rest of the train ride...

----

After an hour of constantly passing the same scenery, you both finally made it to the destination. You both stretched out your ligaments after sitting in a cramped section for a long period of time.

"Man, I forgot how excruciating train rides are," the ice mage yawned as he twisted his body. Your eyes lingered a little long at his lean body, abs toned and chisled as he turned and stretched his body, as expected for a man who's constantly fighting with raw strength, it would make sense why he's built like that. Before your eyes could land on his chest, you diverted your eyes.

You cleared your throat to excuse the slight red hue on your cheeks, "Gray, where are your clothes?"

He arche his brow in confusion before looking down to see that he's now in his boxers, "Dammit! This happens every time!"

You snickered, "Can you keep the stripping to a minimum, not tryna get arrested before completing the mission." Your attempts to hold your amusment failed as you bursted out into laughter, wiping your tears in the process.

He felt his cheeks burn at your reaction to his annoying habit, it was clear you were doing this on purpose to embarrass him, "Oh shut up, lava witch! If you had this habit, it wouldn't be funny would it?!"

"Ugh! The name is getting old y'know. At least have some diversity in your insults, popsicle brain," you flicked his nose.

He grumbled as he rubbed his nose, "Lava witch..."

After leaving the station, you followed the path of the map provided by the back of the flyer. It required taking a long wooden stair path to reach the village as it wrapped around the volcano. The more you progressed on the path, the more the air started to become warmer. Humid had turned into hot, not that it really affected you as you were used to high temperatures from your lava magic. However, the ice mage seemed to be the opposite as his movements became sluggish and his body became drenched in sweat; in fact, his sweat alone can fill a bathtub.

"Hurry up, we don't got all day!" You yelled in frustration, watching him barely drag his feet as he continued struggling to step on the wooden stairs.

"Dammit, [Name], are you sure this is the right direction?! My clothes feel like they're about to melt!" He retaliated back as he continued taking baby steps along the shabby stairs.

You rolled your eyes, "You’re not even wearing clothes to begin with, and can’t you just use your ice magic to cool yourself off?!"

He groaned, "I'm tryna save my magic energy, you heat freakazoid!”

“See, I would normally be annoyed at your weird nicknames for me but they’re so painfully bad and uncreative that it makes me feel better about myself!” You yell from the top.

He growled before looking up at you, “Can you quit the bickering and help me up?! I feel like I’m gonna pass out!” You swore you saw his soul leave out of his body as he went limp on the next step.

You facepalmed before walking down the stairs to retrieve your ice companion, “I think i’ve found another reason to be pissed off at you…” You wrap his arm around your neck before using all your might to carry a napping Gray.

“Thank God I took up those endurance training sessions with Erza…” You huffed as you continued to carry the heavy man on your shoulders.

————

You finally made it to the top of the stairs before dropping the ice wizard onto the ground, catching your breath in the process.

“Good, God! Are you really that intolerable to the heat?!” You panted as you pressed your palms on your kneecaps.

“I was trained for snowstorms not volcanic eruptions!” He slowly got up, his legs wobbling like a newborn giraffe.

You grunted, “Whatever, let’s just get this stupid job over with before I throw myself in lava.” You dust off the dirt on your shirt before walking towards the village.

The village had a reddish-orange aesthetic to it, the buildings made out of clay and stone, and the village folks wore different colored garments. Very maximalist. Magnolia was already a fashionable city in itself but seeing everyone dripped in jewelry and stylish garments puts those weekly sorcerer models to shame. You could say, it was a fresh breath of air seeing a whole other aesthetic than just your average crop tops and bootcut jeans.

“You don’t look like you’re from this area. Are you perhaps tourists? Ooo, maybe you’re here for a honeymoon,” an old woman approached the both of you; Judging by her clothing and appearance, she looks to be a local.

You quickly nod your head, “Uh- no, no. We’re not married!” You cleared your throat from the awkward moment the woman created between you and Gray. You felt your ears slightly blush from the embarrassment.

“Ahh, boyfriend and girlfriend.“

“Yea…no.”

“Talking stage?”

“No..”

“Your crush.”

“Nope.”

“Situationship?”

“Isn’t that just the talking stage?”

“Ahh, lemme guess. Exes to lovers,” she nods in assurance.

“That would mean I’d have to date this idiot, which is neverrr…” You crossed arms before blowing a piece of hair out of your face.

“I could never date her, just being near her pisses me off!” Like you, he crossed his arms, his biceps and abs still glistening from sweat.

The woman ogled Gray’s shirtless torso for a bit before shaking her head to snap out of her trance, “Anyways, why come here when you’re not here to ‘get it on’ like most tourists who come here.” She jokingly does an inappropriate gesture which obviously made the both of you uncomfortable.

Your lack of research and knowledge on this place was starting to become more prominent, you never knew the village was a known tourist spot for couples or newly weds. You were too caught up with getting the job done in a hasty manner, you didn’t bother to look the place up before leaving. Not really a good thing, but oh well...

Before you could blurt out a word, Gray interrupts you, “We saw your ‘help wanted’ poster about the volcano erupting.” He wipes the sweat off his forehead with his shirt in-hand.

“…Yeah, what he said.”

The old woman’s face lit up hearing Gray’s words about taking up the job, “Oh! You must be from Fairy Tail! Yes, yes, we’ve had growing concerns about recent volcanic activity and we could really use some help to y'know...keep the volcano in check."

"Well, that's why we're here to help," you smiled awkwardly before nudging Gray's arm.

"Oh- Uh yeah, right," he rubbed the back of his head, still supporting that grumpy nonchalant face he usually has.

She smiles back, "Oh, where are my manners, I'm the village healer! So nice to meet you! And you are...?"

"Um, I'm [Name] and this is my p-partner, Gray," you stuttered at the mention of calling Gray your partner. He was still wiping the sweat off his body and fanning himself before shooting a small wave at the lady.

"You good, bro?" Your voice hinting with concern.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. I just hate hot temperatures," still wiping the sweat dripping down his face and torso.

"Ohhh looking fine indeed, Gray," she started drooling at the sight of his muscular body, the rays hitting his abs perfectly to capture the glistening sweat coating them.

"Uh...what-"

"NOTHING!" She shakes her head before clearing her throat, "Anyways, about the volcano..."

----

You both listen intently on the old woman's words as she went in-depth about the situation. It seems that there have been reports of magma spillage that had been the cause of a few buildings to get destroyed. Unfortunately, none of the villagers practice ice magic as most of them adapted to honing lava magi-

"Wait hold on, then why send me and Gray on a mission together when it seems like everyone is this village specializes in lava magic?"

"I mean to be honest, we only requested an ice wizard for the job."

You bit your nail as you went into deep thinking, "Then, why did Mira- OH." You felt your eye twitch before snatching the paper from Gray's hands.

"The hell was that for-"

"SHUSH!" You stuck your pointer finger at him while inspecting the flyer again.

As you scanned between the lines of the paper, you noticed a small change added to the requirements section.

"LOOKING FOR ICE WIZARD"

It seems like someone (you already knew it was Mira) scribbled a little edit onto the 'requirements section' -- "and a lava wizard!!"

You throw the paper on the ground before glaring at Gray. "WHY ARE YOU LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT?!" You then pick up the paper before walking towards the village without saying a word.

"So about your relationship with her..."

"Please stop talking..." He facepalmed.

----

While walking around the village, your eye catches the marketplace. There were a variety of stalls for you to look at: from selling exotic jewelry to strangely-shaped fruits, it was like entering a new world to you. Very reminiscent to the first time you landed at Magnolia... You were practically ogling at the sight of all the glittery trinkets and clothing laid out on the tables, imagining yourself wearing such intricate outfits.

Though villagers made it very clear that you were an outsider as they ran up to you, constantly shoving their products in your face in hopes that you buy it. You politely declined all their offers as you wanted to budget the cost of the motel and-

"Oh sweet Jesus..." At the corner of your eye, you notice a beautifully crafted dress singularly laid out on the table, as if it was beckoning for your call. It had individual gems sewed onto it, dark-red fabric with black lace to give it an elegant yet fierce looks to it. You also eyed the jewelry and accessories that would pair well with the dress.

"HOW MUCH FOR EVERYTHING?!" Your booming voice startled the poor vendor...

---

"[Name]! Where are you?!" He called out for your name in hopes of finding you around the village square. It had been 20 minutes since you ran off, the ice mage had become frustrated with your sudden absence. He groaned under his breath, "Dammit, this girl is so difficult, it pisses me off. It doesn't help that the heat here is so unbearable!"

"Gray! I finally found you!" You run towards him.

He tiredly sighed, "Thank god, I was worried-"

His eyes widen at the amount of bags you were holding, it looked as if they were about to fall off the straps at any moment from the weight of the luxurious goods you acquired.

"How much did you spend on all that..." He questioned you with concern.

"Price is just a number, cunt stays forever," you sassily flipped your hair. You look down at your bags, staring at the shiny jewels peeking out the bags.

He pinched the bridge of his nose before looking at you again, "Look, you wanna finish this mission in a timely manner, right? Then, let's get going already."

You stood there silently for a moment before speaking, "Ah fuck, you're right." You dust off the dirt on your legs before grabbing the shopping bags along with you, "Hope you don't mind, but I had to borrow a few jewels from you."

He stares at you in confusion before feeling around his pockets, "Since when did you take my wallet?!"

You deviously smiled to yourself while your back faced him, not even bothering to answer his question...

---

It had already been a long, tiring 7 hours of studying the lava’s behavior while creating strategies for Gray to cool down the hot magma. You did your best to assist Gray by meticulously bending the molten rock in hopes that it would calm down while Gray focused on cooling it down. It took trial and error to perfect the best strategy while having to beat both you and Gray’s depleting magic energy. The volcano was huge and it didn’t help that it was the two of you taking care of the problem.

As the night time hit, you saw the glowing orange start to dim as the lava reverted down to its original “sleeping form.” You felt a wave of relief as watched the molten rock solidified, wiping the sweat off your face from the strenuous job.

“We did it, oh my god! Finally!” You jumped up and down in excitement before hugging Gray. His eyes widened at your sudden reaction, the feeling of his racing heartbeat echoed in his ears as he felt your breath nearing his neck.

You opened your eyes, realizing what you had done before pushing yourself off him and slowly back away from. You awkwardly scratched the back of your ears before clearing the imaginary lump in your throat, “Sorry, that was out of habit. I usually hug Natsu and-”

After hearing your words, he snapped out of his trance before clearing his throat as well, “What? Oh yeah, I don’t care. I was mostly focusing on the hefty reward that will be getting soon.” He stretched his arms before yawning, hoping to cut the awkward tension.

“OH, yes! We should tell the village healer about finishing the job and then we can go straight home and then go back to being good ol’ enemies,” you awkwardly laughed before swiftly turning the other way to walk towards the village area.

“Aha..yea…” He followed behind you.

As you both walk down towards the village square, a hoard of villagers crowd around the both of you, thank you for preventing their village from becoming another Pompeii. They gratefully shook your hands while handing you small trinkets as a token of their appreciation for the effort you both put into the job.

The both of you smiled and greeted all of them before an old man with a fancy headpiece while carrying a walking cane approached the two of you. You bit the inside of your lips as you waited for the man to speak, “H-hello.”

He stood there silently before smiling, “Ah, I see you both prevented the eruption of the volcano. Well done I must say!”

Everyone started clapping while they whistled and yelled your names out in celebration. You shyly chuckled at his response, “Well, it would’ve been a shame if this beautiful village burnt down to molten rock.”

He grinned before correcting himself, “Where are my manners? I’m the chief of the village and I wanted to personally come down to thank the two of you for doing us a big favor by saving our village and conquering that volcano!”

“Aw come on, chief, we’re just doing our job,” he scratched the back of his head.

“No, no! In fact, we wanted to host a big feast for the two of you! Come, come!” He gestured to the both of you.

“Oh, but we gotta get home-”

He laughed, “My dear, it’s so late. I’ll let you stay overnight for free at one of our popular hotels here!”

You and Gray looked at eachother for a moment for sighing, “Well, I guess we can’t say no to that…” You awkwardly laughed as you fidgeted with your hair.

“Oh, wonderful! Our chefs have made the best dishes to treat our lovely heroes!” He excitedly grinned at you both for skipping towards the buffet table.

You sighed in defeat, you were tired, sore, and ready to plop onto bed but nonetheless, it didn’t hurt to accept their gratitude. The people were genuinely kind to the both of you, so it didn’t hurt for you to stay for a bit out of politeness.

Gray chuckled, “Man, after all that work we did the whole day, it wouldn’t hurt to feast a bit.” He patted your back before passing by you to sit down at the dinner table.

You stood there hesitant for a moment before shrugging it off before following behind him. You pulled a chair next to Gray, his focus shifting towards your sudden presence as you stared upon the giant platters of food laid out for everyone.

“Ahh, I’m so glad for the both of you to join us! Eat all you want, this is your celebration after all!” The chief laughed before munching on a turkey leg.

You smiled at his gesture before grabbing a few pieces of from the giant platters laid out on the table.

In the corner of your eye, you noticed the village girls attempting to get “friendly” with Gray. Pressing their chests along his arm, complimenting his physique, even tracing the outline of his abs through his compression shirt. It was very clear that Gray was a bit embarrassed and uncomfortable with the attention that he was getting to the point your can tell he was trying to cover the blush on his face while dismissing all their advances.

“Y’know, whatcha did for us back there was so brave of you.” A flirtatious tone in her voice, hugging onto his arm with her cleavage.

He turned his head to avoid the sight of her large breasts pressed onto him, “O-Oh, yeah it was no problem! Y’know, I couldn’t have done it without-”

“Wow! Your muscles are like…so huge. You must really take care of your body,” another girl was squeezing his other bicep while biting her lip.

He laughed awkwardly, “I do a lot of missions like these so it’s like i’m constantly exercising.” He slowly picked at the food on his plate despite the girl still stroking his arm.

“Hey, sexy, how about we ditch the dinner and we show you a great time in private,” a third girl behind him winked as she traced her finger along his shoulders and chest.

Before he could speak up, you slammed your cup onto the table hard enough to grab the girls’ attention, “Heyyy, I’m not feeling too good. I think I drank a lil too much.” You grabbed Gray’s shoulder, “Hey, partner, how bout’ you do me a favor hold my hair up while I barf in the alley, aight?” Your words slurred in the process.

He stated at you confused for a second before realizing your true motive, “O-Oh yeah! I gotchu!”

He ‘helps’ you stand up as you pretend to wobble around in a drunken state, giggling hysterically as you wrapped your arms around him. The girls scoffed as they watched you get taken by Gray to a secluded empty alley.

After you guys were out of their line of view, you quickly shoved Gray off you, “Ugh, Im never doing that again.”

You brushed yourself off before facing him again. He stood by the wall, arms crossed while trying to maintain his ‘cool’ composure, though, the light blush on his cheeks and ears say otherwise.

“Y’know it’s kinda goofy when you try to be a tough sometimes,” you snickered.

He scoffed at your words, before looking towards you with a softer look. He cleared his throat, “Thanks for that, [Name]. I was actually glad you got me outta there.” He covered the lower half of his face to hide the remaining blush from the incident.

Your demeanor changed seeing him become more somber with you. You couldn’t pinpoint it but you surprisingly didn’t hate it. Usually, being around him for more than a minute would’ve turned into full-blown physical fight. Yet, you both stood there, no hair pulling or anything. For the first time in years, it felt kind of nice not arguing with Gray over something petty.

You shook your head to break your trance before clearing your throat, “Yeah, I felt kind of bad for you so I wanted to save you. Plus, their presence was ruining my appetite.” You rubbed the back of your neck while avoiding eye contact with him.

“You better not tell anyone or else i’m gonna fucking kill you.”

He rolled his eyes, “Yeah whatever, lava witch.”

“Shut up.”

You both went silent again, only the sound of laughing and talking in the distance.

“…Should we get back to the dinner or…?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m craving dessert right now!”

You both head back to the table, returning to your seats before the server approached the both of you with slices of an orange-colored fruit.

“Never seen this typa fruit before,” he inspected it with his fork.

Suddenly, the old village healer stood behind you, startling you in the process, “That’s a special fruit that only grows near the volcano! It’s a delicacy in our village actually.”

“I’ve read about certain fruits being able to grow near volcanoes but I’ve surprisingly never seen this one before,” you continued to eye the juicy fruit.

“That’s because it only grows around this volcano specifically! We do sometimes ship it out to other countries but it’s only found at certain shops.”

You stared at it before taking a nibble at it, “Wow! This is actually pretty good!” You picked up another fruit slice, savoring its sweet soft flavor.

Gray watched you before following the same action as you, “Holy crap, It’s like I’ve died and gone to heaven.” He continued to stuff his mouth with the fruit.

You both eventually cleaned out your plates and set it aside for the waiters to pick it up.

Gray yawned, “Man, i’m getting sleepy. How bout’ showing us that hotel the chief promised us.”

The old lady giggles, “Oh yes, right this way.” She gestured for the both of you to follow her.

As you walk past the village square, Gray notices a small alley way full of women wearing skimpy outfits and shiny jewelry. All of them staring at him as they tease him with skirt lifts and unzipping a part of their shirts.

“Over here, sexy!”

“Come over here and we’ll show you a good time~”

“How bout’ you ditch that girl and get with a real woman~”

He felt his cheeks heat up before looking away in embarrassment before whispering to you, “All these girls keep flirting with me, it’s so weird,”

“I know, you’re so ugly,” You said with a nonchalant tone.

“STOP CALLING ME UGLY!”

“WELL, HOW ABOUT YOU STOP BEING UGLY!”

“WHAT THE HELL IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?!”

“MAYBE IF YOU STOPPED STRIPPING IN PUBLIC-“

“I TOLD YOU, ITS INVOLUNTARY!”

Suddenly, you felt a sharp pain on your cheek, you felt around the area of impact as it continued to linger there. A red handprint. planted on your face. You turned towards Gray to see he also had the same handprint on his face as well, his face scrunched from the pain.

“Quit bickering already! You sound like an old married couple!”

“Did you really have to slap the both of us?!”

“For real! You could’ve just yelled at us to stop!”

She sighed, “I did but you both wouldn’t listen to me!” She continued walking towards the hotel, “Save it for the bedroom at least?”

“For the last time, we’re not a couple!”

“Hey, you never know,” she shrugged with a smirk on her face.

You and Gray groan in annoyance as you continued to follow the woman’s lead.

Eventually, you make it to the hotel before the old lady gives her ‘goodbye’s’ to you both. You shared your thanks before waving your fair wells to her. She leaves the two of you in the lobby before a lobby boy approaches the both of you, “Hello, i’m here to escort you both to your room.” You both greet him before following him around the hotel.

“There better be two beds,” you whisper to Gray.

“And if there isn’t?” He whispered back.

“Then, you’re sleeping on the floor.”

“Ah, damn...”

The lobby boy turned to the both of you, “Is something the matter?”

“Nah, [Name] was just telling me how she wants to hurry to the room already cause’ she got some diarrhea to unload.”

“NO I DID NO-”

“Yeah, you better hurry if you want to keep your precious red carpets clean.”

“GRAY, IM GONNA KIL-”

The lobby boy let out a soft gasp, “Oh my, we don’t want that do we? In that case, I’ll make this trip quick.”The lobby boy quickly pushed the button, tapping his foot as he nervously waited for the elevator.

With his back turned away, you glared back at Gray, you can tell he’s trying his best to hold in his laughter at the immediate reaction to his lie.

“I’m so gonna kill you when we get back to the guild…”

“Hey, you’ve been ragging on me this whole trip. Lemme have my moment to shine.”

“YOU COULD’VE CHOSEN ANYTHING BUT DIARRHEA??”

“Oh, come on. You’ll live.”

“Well, now I want to die!”

After the excruciatingly 20 second elevator trip, the lobby leads you both to your suite. He takes out a golden key before opening the door, the room was decorated to the brim with gold and white, an elegant look to it. Though, what caught your eye was the singular queen sized bed…

Your jaw dropped at the single bed, “Ahaha, this must be a mistake. I thought it was two beds.”

The boy arched his brow at you, “The chief specifically told us to reserve a single bed suite for the both of you. He thought that you guys would like to have some time alone together during your stay.”

You felt your eye twitch, “Did he think that me and Gray…”

“You guys are a couple, are you not?”

“UM, no?? If anything, we were forced on this job together!” You felt your heart pounding from the adrenaline.

“And I don’t want to share a bed with the lava troll!”

The lobby boy sighed, “I’m apologize for the inconvenience but unfortunately i’m not authorized to switch rooms for you both as all the rooms are completely filled up this weekend.”

“Fucking holidays…” Gray mumbled under his breath.

You sighed before facing towards the boy again, you gave him a crooked smile, “It’s fine, we can figure it out. But we thank the village chief for allowing us to stay at one of your finest hotels."

The lobby boy apologized profusely before handing you the key and closing the door for the both of you.

You both dropped your bags as you sat down on the edge of the bed, distressed about the possibility of having to share a bed together.

————

Awkward. Silent. The sound of the clock ticking as time passed by at a slow rate. You appreciated the chief’s generous actions but the thought of sharing a bed with emo Jack Frost has been eating you up the entire time. But hey, it’s only for one night. What’s the worse that can happen?

“Uh, you don’t mind if I shower first, right? I wanna get this volcano ash off me.”

You sighed, “Yeah, sure, whatever..” You rubbed your temples, attempting to get rid of your stress.

“Come on, [Name]. One night isn’t gonna hurt. We’re gonna have to put aside our rivalry for just this time and then we can go back to beating eachother up once we get back to the guild.” He softly sighed as he grabbed one of the complimentary towels from the bathroom rack.

“Ok, well, it’s not just because we’re rivals but it’s also because your- well- a man! Plus, you have a bad stripping problem!”

“Ugh, fine, I promise I won’t take off all my clothes when we go to sleep…even though I prefer sleeping naked.”

“Gross! Don’t admit that!” You throw a pillow at him which he deflects.

He snickered, “Joking, I’m gonna shower now.”

You stick your tongue out at he closes the bathroom door, the sound of rushing water followed after. You decided to look around the room while you waited for popsicle boy, the room was spacious which went beyond comfort for you personally. A free suite? Now, who would pass that up? You were also hoping to find some extra clothes you could wear for the night. You didn’t plan on staying overnight in the village so unfortunately, you had no extra pajamas you could change into.

You looked in the closet to find a two pairs of white pajamas, “Sweet.” As you grabbed a pair, you felt a tingle up your spine. At first, you passed it off as just a normal bodily function until you suddenly felt your body temperature start to increase. Blood started pooling in your cheeks, tinting your cheeks red as if you just came back from a hot sunny day at the beach.

“What the hell is happening? Why does my body feel like it’s over heating…”

You collapsed onto the ground, your legs weak like a newborn fawn learning how to walk. You could feel beads of sweat dripping down your forehead, your breathing becoming heavier.

“Oh god, what if I ate something that I was secretly allergic to at the dinner? I never get hot, i’m a lava wizard for christ’s sake!” You whined as you shaking wiped your burning forehead.

You slowly lifted your head to stare at the body mirror: your face was beet red, sweat had started to form profusely to the point your clothes started feeling sticky, your hands couldn’t stop shaking no matter how hard you tried to control it.

Suddenly, the sound of pattering water had come to a halt, only drips of water had echoed behind the door to the bathroom.

You cursed at yourself as you attempted to grab the tissues on the bedside table, wiping the sweat off your face and body. You felt your adrenaline rush as you sat down, attempting to gain your composure before Gray could open the door.

The sound of the door knob being twisted before the door swung backwards, there stood a shirtless Gray. Your eyes lingered at his still dripping wet abs, toned and chiseled, an obvious sign that the ice wizard works out in his free time. The Fairy Tail emblem tattooed on his right pectoral, and a silver cross chain necklace to go along with his ‘cool bad boy look.’ Dear God, you could not stop staring at how huge his pecs were, like two pillows (would put those D-cups to shame). Your eyes trailed down to his protruding v-line, smooth and hairless. The towel covering up the place that is not for YOUR eyes to see. It didn’t help that his damp raven black hair was in a sexy pushback.

You felt your heart race as you saw the ice mage stand there in nothing but a towel. So many dirty thoughts pooled into your head at the sight of seeing him. You squeezed your eyes shut before looking away, your face was already red as it was but seeing Gray out the bathroom made your reaction even worse.

“O-Oh my- Gray, can’t you put on some clothes!”You still had your eyes tight shut.

“You see, that’s the problem. I realized that I didn’t bring any clothes so-”

“Cover up for God’s sake, you couldn’t have some decency to put on a shirt?! Have some decorum!” You stuck your hands out in front of your face to hide the raging blush on your cheeks.

He scoffed at your reaction, “Why’re you making it such a big deal? You’re acting as if you hadn’t seen me shirtless multiple times.”

You couldn’t properly answer, you just turned your head away from as you mumbled to yourself.

His face twisted from confusion to concern as he slowly crouched down to your level, gently grabbing your face. He could already feel the burning sensation from your increased body heat, “Jesus, you got a fever or something? Why’s your face so hot? And your face is so red!”

He slowly turned your face, his eyes widened by your tomato-colored face, sweat still dripping down your face as your breathing was still erratic.

He noticed your timid actions, the way you fidgeted with your hands and hair while attempting You still had your eyes tight shut. to avoid eye contact with him. He cleared his throat before calling out your name, “Uh, [Name]?”

“Huh? What do you want?” You scrunched your brows in confusion, a bead of sweat dripped down your face.

“You look like you’re about to melt into a puddle of water.”

You swipe your forehead to feel the moisture in your hand, “It’s just hot right now.”

“Thought you never get hot in humid conditions. Plus, it’s gotten cooler since night fall.” He gently laid the back of his hand on your forehead and cheek.

You whinced at his touch, you couldn’t explain it but it made you kind of nervous, hell, even embarrassed. You felt like a crushing school girl, the way Gray was gently caressing your cheek, his close presence next to you was making you feel some type of way towards him. A part of you was trying to deny that it was probably just your weird ‘allergic’ reaction making you feel delusional. Yet, another part of you couldn’t help but feel a bit pleased with the way Gray was acting towards you despite your hatred for the ice wizard.

“I’ll cool you down with my ice powers, alright?”

You nodded back in assurance, your heart still racing from the closed distance between you and Gray.

He sighed before using his ice magic to cool down your rising body temperature. Immediately, you felt some type of relief at the chilliness, you sighed as you felt your uncomfortableness start to fade away. His expression had become more relaxed at your noticeable reaction, “Better?”

Although, the ‘feverish’ feeling had went away, your heart still pounded at the sight of your icy rival. You tightly clutched your fists as you felt a wave of need start to pool below your belt. Oh God, what is this feeling?

All you could think about was how much you wanted him to rip away at your shirt as you watch the towel on waist slide down, revealing the end of his defined v-line. You felt so dirty. In all the years you’ve known Gray, you’ve hated his guts with a deep burning passion. Ok…maybe it was more of jealousy but of course, you would never admit that.

He was just some snarky annoying stripper who always said the right things to rile you up. Just seeing his face made you want to turn it into a punching bag.

Yet, here you are: squeezing your thighs as you ached to stimulate the neediness between your legs.

“Gray,” your voice hushed but loud enough for him to hear.

“Uh, yeah what’s up?” He questioned you, still confused about your strange behavior.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” you mumbled under your breath.

He arched his brow at your statement, “Doing what?”

You grabbed the sides of his face before pressing your lips onto his. He let out a surprised noise, muffled from your suffocating kiss. You quickly unlatched your lips from his, a string of saliva connecting the two of you.

“D-Did you just…” He stuttered, a deep red dusted on his cheeks from your initial reaction.

You wiped your lips before turning away in embarrassment, “Oh god, what have I done?! I just kissed you!”

His heart started to beat faster than ever. Not too long ago, you were ragging on him for embarrassing you in front of the lobby boy. Next thing he knew, you started kissing him out of nowhere!

“Why did you do that?” His face turning a bright red.

“I don’t know?! I just- fuck! Seeing you in that towel is making me feel weird!” You covered your face in shame.

He couldn’t deny it, he did have some tiny attraction for you but passed it off as physical attraction. Not to mention, feistiness was kind of a turn on for him. There were times you would get into a fight/argument with him, just for him to get back home and jerk off while replaying it in his head. As much as he disliked your behavior towards him, he couldn’t help but be drawn to you somehow. He always liked your reactions when he teased you.

He smirked, “Well, it’s not like I’m hating, princess.”

You felt your cheeks heat up, “E-Excuse me?”

He got close to your face, the feeling of breath hitting your lips, “I wouldn’t mind letting you slide this towel off me.” His lips landed on yours, his tongue parting your lips forcefully as it intertwined with yours. You let out a soft moan as you melted into the sensation of his lips. Before you could reach for the towel on his waist, you break off the heated kiss.

“Oh god, I just kissed you…again!” You pushed yourself off him.

He rolled his eyes before pulling your arm, dragging you towards him. He whispered sensually in your ear, “And we both liked it.”

You felt your ear blush, “I hate you, you know…”

He smirked, “Normally, you get on my nerves but the way you’re biting back is pretty hot.” His lips landed on your neck, nibbling the ticklish flesh.

You whimpered at the sensation of his warm tongue lapping over your skin. The way his mouth suctioned into you like an octopus, you didn’t want to admit it but it felt good…So, so good.

He eventually unlatched his lips from your neck, saliva connecting to the now purple mark stained onto your skin. He gave it one last lick before smirking back at you, “Oops, can’t let Mira see this or else she’ll get on our asses.” A snarky tone in his words.

You sighed deeply, as if you were holding your breath the whole time, “Gray-”

He used his pointer finger to pull down the collar of your shirt, revealing more of your cleavage. He whistled at the sight, “Don’t remember you having these…”

You scoffed, “Ever heard of puberty?”

He hooked his finger under your shirt, “Mmm, well thank god for that…” He gave it a light tug, pleading for you to take it off. He loved the way it hugged your figure, the way the v-neck teased that bit of cleavage.

You caught onto his actions before slowly peeling off the shirt, revealing the white sports bra you had on under. It didn’t make sense. Why were you willingly stripping for him? It’s not like he was even forcing you to do this…

“Damn, boring much?”

“It’s called practicality, idiot.”

“Well, it would’ve been practical for me if you had worn a clip-on bra instead,” he gently pulled the sports bra off you, revealing your exposed perky breasts in-front of him. Your exposed nipples hardened from the coldness of the air. A sign of Gray’s magic activating near you. His voice deep like a growl, “Oh wow…”

You whinced as he flicked your nipples, rolling them between his fingers as he toyed with them like a cat.

“Ah…Gray, please.”

“Mmm, please what, Princess?” He groped your breast, giving it light squeezes as he circled your areoles.

“A-Ah mmm please, keep touching me.” You felt that same wave of heat wash over you again as you gripped his forearm, biting your bottom lip as you attempted to hide your moans.

He smiled at the scene unfolding before him, “Your shitty attitude has been pissing me off this entire day, I’d rather see you whine on the floor like a cat in heat while you beg for me to make you cum.”

“Oh fuck y-” Your sentence is cut off when he pinches your nipples, throwing your head back at the mix of pain and pleasure.

“Wanna say that again, princess?” He looks down at you with a devious grin.

You stammer, “F-Fuck y-you.”

He chuckles before getting close to your ear, his voice going down an octave, “Keep talking like that or I won’t touch your pussy.”

God, his voice is so sexy.

“Urgh, fine.”

“Good girl.”

He released his tight grip on your nipples before slowly sliding his muscular hand down your pants. You hiss at the feeling of his cold hands on your pelvis before you feel the pressure of his index on your clothed clit.

“Naughty girl, already getting wet from me touching your nipples,” he teases circles onto your protruding clit.

You let out a hushed moan as you felt your needy pussy begged for his touch.

He rolled the bundle of nerves between his fingers as he looked down at your pathetic stance, your panties becoming even wetter than before. His dick getting harder by the second as you moaned at his touch.

“Just this once…make me cum, oh god…” You whined while involuntarily grinding on his fingers. Your hips moving to their rhythm.

He flicked your bean faster as you whined for him, increasing the volume of your moans.

“Fuck, keep moaning like that and I’ll cum under this towel,” already feeling the tip of dick leaking with pre-cum.

Your breath hastened as his fingers worked miraculously on you, your thighs clenching ground his arm as if it were suffocating it. You grab onto your shoulders as you felt your body give into the pleasure of the ice wizard.

“Heh, if you weren’t such a bad girl, I would’ve made you cum on my dick…”

You couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed from your own karma punching you in the face. Maybe it was the hormones but you wouldn’t have complained if he pinned you the bed and fucked your brains out then and there.

“God, girl, you’re gonna give me a heart attack.”

You felt your body chase the high as your pussy became sloppy from his touch, tears welling up in your eye ducts in the process.

You were able to mutter a single word, “Please…”

He smirked at your pathetic attempt at begging before his fingers moved at an inhuman speed.

“Gray, I’m gonna cum sto-”

Your words were cut off as you reached your limit, your body trembled from ecstasy as you let yourselves go on his touch. Your skin felt hot to the touch, sweat dripping down your naked body, your clit felt swollen and tired.

Gray took his hand out of your panties, his pale fingers now coated with your creamy liquid before licking it seductively.

“Mmm, taste good, princess.”

“Shut up.”

You attempted to lift yourself off the floor as if you were a newborn giraffe learning to walk, yet, your attempts were deemed unsuccessful. You fell back down before glaring at Gray with a flushed expression.

He laughed at your pitiful attempt, “Oh man, I didn’t know I was that good!”

“Just get me on the bed you idiot,” you retorted.

He playfully rolled his eyes before scooping you up princess style, plopping you down on the bed, “Happy?”

“Very,” you said in a snooty remark.

As he lays down next to you, he turns toward your direction, “Let’s do that again.”

“Nope.”

You quickly pulled the covers over your still damp body before clicking the light switch on the lamp. The room now filled in dark silence.

As you closed your eyes, you felt your conscious drifting away as you wondered how the next day would turn out…

a/n: sorry for the rushed ending, i’ve lost my touch since i first wrote this months ago 😞

[ms-m-astrologer]

2025 Pisces Crescent Moon

Saturday, February 1, 22:20 UTC, 28°19’ Pisces

The key phrase for the Crescent lunar phase is “gather and mobilize resources.”

A trippy one, all right - as I (try to) write this, approximately 72 hours before maturation, I am feeling it already. The Moon in this chart is technically void of course, but when she’s in the sign Pisces (and not adversely aspected) we can just carry on and ignore that.

Moon conjunct Venus conjunct Neptune conjunct North Node, all in the tiny sliver of Zodiac between 28°-29° Pisces. “Trippy” is the right word, to be sure. Pisces resources aren’t remotely like other signs’ resources. Fog? Daydreams? Seeing things that aren’t there? Not seeing things that are there?

Something to remember, to (try to) ground ourselves in, is that Venus has entered her pre-retrograde shadow. Whatever this phase invokes, we’re going to revisit - in fact, on March 28 we’re going to revisit the same quadruple conjunction of Moon, Venus, Neptune, and the North Node. Except it’ll be the Balsamic phase - by that time, Saturn will be close enough to the action to be included - Mercury Rx too - and, there’s a solar eclipse on March 29.

And the next day, transiting Neptune enters Aries. (Not to stay, this time, it’s just dipping in a toe, but still.)

In other words, this measly-seeming Crescent Moon has the potential for dissolving all our assumptions, presumptions, and so forth. This is such a huge shift; I can’t seem to emphasize enough (or even begin to wrap my own head around) just how profound “things” are going to get.

Wherever our heads seem to be wandering - me, I’m apparently calculating how many wrong trees I can bark up, at one time - there are our resources. Sort of. It’s maybe not so much the actual things, as the feelings they evoke. Terror, exasperation, wonder, bliss, confusion, boredom. Is there an overall theme? What is it trying to tell you? Do you need to let go of it, or do you need to surrender to it?

Or maybe - quoting myself again - there is “something wonderful you don’t dare believe could be meant for you.”

Perhaps out of the various shards of imaginative impressions, we can piece together a new paradigm to shift ourselves into. I don’t think it’s going to be remotely an instant process - maybe incomplete until the final Venus-Neptune conjunction (May 2, at 1°09’ Aries); maybe not even complete until February 20, 2026, at the one and only Saturn-Neptune conjunction this go-round (0°45’ Aries).

What house in your birth chart holds 28°19’ Pisces? In the 10th, you’ll be visible, perhaps holding a leadership role. In the 3rd, tell us all about it!

(It’s in poor Ms M’s natal 5th - and opposite her progressed Moon, to boot - not only is her usual writing style being ground to Pisces pieces, but she’s in anguish about never being loved back the way she wants to be.…)

The upcoming First Quarter lunar phase - Wednesday, February 5, 08:02 UTC, 16°46’ Taurus (ruled by Venus) - may give us opportunities to “ground” ourselves in what this Crescent phase summons forth.

[wonuwrites]

Seventeen as Songs From “The Tortured Poet Department: The Anthology.”

A/N: this album is fucking amazing and has inspired me to write so much. So the way I’m doing this is giving a member a song + a lyric with a mini drabble. In future I might do Song Reactions for a few of these songs *cough* Down Bad and Fortnight *cough* but until then I’m doing it like this. If anyone wants more writing of said drabbles please request it 🫶

Also before I get to warnings let me just say: this is 100% fictional and not at all how I think any of the members are irl. This album doesn’t portray the make counterpart in good light that much (minus But Daddy I Love Him, The Alchemy, + So High School.) however I'm in a angsty af mood so I’m writing it. If you hate it, im sorry. I just have to write it to process my grief. ALSO: not all of them are going to be hella angsty but most will be because this album is unhinged

Warnings: angst (not everyone's though: 96 Line + Joshua is lowkey cute,), Jun's is NSFW so Minors DNI, mentions of alcohol, breakups, heartbreak, codependency, pledis, i also wrote some swear words so if you hate bad words: this album and my writing is not for you lmaoooooo

ღ S. Coups: The Bolter "With a quite bewitching face Splendidly selfish, charmingly helpless Excellent fun 'til you get to know her Then she runs like it's a race."

Seungcheol woke up to an empty bed and couldn't help but sigh before rubbing his face. He let you in again, even after swearing to Jeonghan and Jihoon he was done. However, there was something about you that just kept him wanting more and more. He knew that you were never one for commitment because "Where was the fun in that? Commitment just is a recipe for getting hurt." He knew that trying to pursue a "bolter" was a lost cause but he just couldn't help it. He was madly in love with you and every time you left he felt more devastated than the time before. Every 11:11 he wished that one day you would let him at least try to show you that commitment could be a beautiful thing.

ღ Jeonghan: The Albatross "Locked me up in towers But I'd visit in your dreams And they tried to warn you about me."

Jeonghan knew the risks of dating you. You were what some people called a temptress and a "nightmare dressed like a daydream." He knew that there was a chance you would ruin his life and honestly, at the time, he was all in for it. He was sure he could call your bullshit however time showed that his bullshit was called out. He found out that what everyone said was not as true as they thought. He found you to be the most amazing person in this world so when you left he was heartbroken. You told him you didn't want to be what everyone said but you had to leave and you knew he would find someone even better in the long run. However, he saw you in his dreams, he saw you in faces in the street, he saw you everywhere. He missed you and wished you would be able to let him in so you could prove all of them wrong.

ღ Joshua: Fresh Out The Slammer "And no matter what I've done, it wouldn't matter anyway Ain't no way I'm gonna screw up now that I know what's at stake here."

You looked around the crowd of people as you entered a familiar park. You knew this place all too well and your heart was racing. You just got out of six year relationship with someone you swore was supposed to be your forever person. However, you always unintentionally compared him to your first love, Hong Jisoo. For the past year, you were mentally checked out of your relationship because all you could think about was Jisoo. You took a deep breath before you sat down on an empty swing and waited. You waited for what seemed like five hours when the swing next to you was taken. You glanced over and saw Jisoo looking at you with a soft smile. Your heart started to race as you both made eye contact. It had been so long but he looked as beautiful as ever. Jisoo then leaned over and pressed a kiss against your lips while grabbing both of your hands. You smiled as familiar lips that felt like home brought back warm memories. You then put your foreheads together before awkward giggling. "Welcome home, (Y/N)."

ღ Jun: So High School "Your friends are around, so be quiet I'm trying to stifle my sighs 'Cause I feel so high school every time I look at you But look at you."

You are so head over heels for Moon Junhwi as was he over you. You both felt like it was a first love that you would have back in high school. All of the feelings you would feel back in High School came crashing back. One night when you were celebrating something with all of your friends and with his group members you both ran off into a closet and were just making out when it started to get more and more intense. You both were flushed and giggling as you both helped each other get undressed. He made sure the door was locked before attaching his lips back to you. "Try to stay quiet, baby girl," he would whisper as his fingers made their way to your nipples which caused you to softly moan into his lips. "Yes sir." A quickie would be good enough for now as you tried your best to stifle the moans and sighs that Jun was causing. If his friends knew what was going down, they kept it a secret from you but teased the hell out of him when you were gone.

ღ Hoshi: imgonnagetyouback "And I'll tell you one thing, honey, I can tell when somebody still wants me, come clean."

Soonyoung and you kept crossing paths and it was honestly frustrating you. You both didn't have a horrible breakup but it still was a breakup that hurt a lot. It took everything to get over him and you swore you were over him. However, every time you saw him, you couldn't help but second guess everything. At one of these "crossroad" moments, the "crazy" in you came out after you kept making eye contact with him one too many times. You made your way across the room despite your friends trying to stop you and pulled him to an empty storage room. Both of your breath was heavy before you glared into his eyes and whispered, "I know you still want me, please come clean." This caused him to scoff before pushing you up against the door and whispering, "you first, baby girl."

holy shit, 100 notes and I will write a one shot for this one

ღ Wonwoo: But Daddy I Love Him "Now I'm dancin' in my dress in the sun and Even my daddy just loves him I'm his lady And, oh my God, you should see your faces."

A video of one of you and Wonwoo's first dates ended up getting leaked and soon dating rumors started spreading like wildfire. There was both positive and negative thoughts from both of your fans as expected but to be honest it was just "white noise" for both of you because honestly who gave a fuck what anyone thought. When both of your CEO's sat with both of your managers and you, they informed you that dispatch was working on an article "exposing" the truth and that's when you both realized that you both wanted to be the ones to tell the fans. You decided to post on instagram a mini reel of moments between Wonwoo and you saying, "the rumors are true. wanted to let you know before dispatch told you all." Once you confirmed, there was still some negative press but mostly it was positive which Wonwoo and you were both thankful for.

omg i wanna write a one shot for this too bc what!?

ღ Woozi: The Alchemy "'Cause the sign on your heart Said it's still reserved for me Honestly, who are we to fight the alchemy?"

Honestly, you were shocked to see Lee Jihoon brace an event like this. Especially, after all this time. It was not his crowd or in his comfort zone. You could see how nervous he was as he fiddled with his arm cuffs and nervous laughing to whatever his friend was saying. Based on rough memories you believed his friends name was "Kwon Soonyoung" but that seemed like many life times ago. It felt like a car crash when you looked at him because you couldn't turn away or look away. Memories of you both kept replaying through your memory. You just stared at the man who you once loved exist on the other side of the room. After awhile, he realized a pair of once familiar eyes were staring at him. He looked back and his face softened. It felt like a movie as you stared at each other. Neither of you remember who walked to who first but soon you both were sitting side by side at the bar laughing and recalling old memories. The hole that was in both of your hearts seemed to be patched up as the conversation progressed. When the night was over, he asked if you would be comfortable seeing him again and you couldn't say 'yes' quick enough.

ღ DK: Peter "And sometimes it gets me When crossing your jet stream We both did the best we could do Underneath the same moon In different galaxies."

"It will always be you, maybe one day we can come back together when it's not so crazy." That was the last thing you ever heard Seokmin say after you both agreed it was time to call it quits. Who's fault was it? Honestly neither of your fault. Neither you or Seokmin could say that you did not try. Of course you both tried. You both tried to make everything work but things were just too different and well 'crazy.' With his career, he was everywhere and vise versa. You both were just never in the same time zone at the same time. It was like this for months when finally it just fizzled. Time moved on, as did both of you, but when you looked out the airplane window and noticed you were flying over Seoul your heart couldn't help but mourn. You wondered what could've been. You wondered if he still laughed while clapping like a seal and if he was still sunshine for everyone he met. It broke you a bit to remember. "It will always be you, Seokmin," you whispered before closing the curtain of the window.

ღ Mingyu: Down Bad "How dare you think it's romantic Leaving me safe and stranded 'Cause fuck it, I was in love So fuck you if I can't have us."

"Kim Mingyu, you are a fucking coward," you whispered as you tried to hide your angry heartbroken tears from him. "(Y/N), trust me this is the last thing I want to do," he whispered with tears threatening to fall. Dispatch had found out about both of your relationship three days ago and the hate toward you was heavy. Delusional fans thought their beloved idol was cheating on them and you deserved to die because it was obviously your fault the 'affair." You were down to fight and continue forward but he couldn't handle the hate you were receiving and knowing there was only so much he could do. Fuck, maybe he was a 'fucking coward' but he was doing it because it would be safe for you. Who knows what saesangs could do to you. If anything happened to you, he would never forgive himself. He rather have you hate his guts then have you killed.

ღ Minghao: I Can Do It With A Broken Heart "I can hold my breath I've been doin' it since he left I keep finding his things in drawers Crucial evidence I didn't imagine the whole thing."

It has been about two months since Minghao and you broke up and it honestly has felt like a fever dream since it happened. Some days were better than others. You honestly thought today was one of the 'better' days but that was before you found one of his cardigans in one of your drawers and you just couldn't help but put it on and lay on the floor. You couldn't help but remember all the memories of him and you with this cardigan. Whether he was wearing it or you were. It was warm just like the memories and it killed you. You wrapped the cardigan around you tighter around you and just sobbed. You knew one day it would stop hurting, but until then, you were just going to run with the punches and try your best to do it with a broken heart.

ღ Seungkwan: My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys "'Cause I knew too much, there was danger in the heat of my touch He saw forever, so he smashed it up.

Seungkwan knew he fucked up the moment he stepped foot into his house after breaking things off with you. Truth be told he was terrified of you. You knew him like the back of your hand and he knew you like the back of his hand. He saw a future with you. He saw you owning a dog, living in a house in Jeju, owning a dog, having one to two kids, everything. However, he wasn't mentally ready for that. At least at the time he thought he wasn't. Now that he was alone and realizing what he had done, guilt was eating him up. He lost everything because his own damn anxiety lied and said there was danger. There was nothing he could do to fix it now.

ღ Vernon: The Black Dog "I move through the world with the heartbroken My longings stay unspoken And I may never open up thе way I did for you."

Nobody understood you the way Hansol did. He had the manuscript on what made you tick. Like how you liked your coffee over exactly five ice cubes, how you would always whisper 'thank you' before eating any kind of meats because they once had a soul, and how you would blink twice before laughing at one of his jokes. So when he made the call to end things you wondered how on earth you would ever find someone who could handle your quirks and wouldn't find you strange. It made you feel abandoned and made you hate him so much for hurting you this way. When you expressed your feelings to your friends, they would tell you it would get better eventually. Eventually, whenever "Hansol" escaped your lips to them they would tell you to stop talking. That's why you just were silently heartbroken as you replayed everything over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over again.

ღ Dino: So Long, London "You swore that you loved me, but where were the clues? I died on the altar waitin' for the proof."

Your phone light blinded you as you stared at Lee Chan's pointless apologies. You both had been struggling in your relationship for the last five months. You thought things were looking up until one of your best friends delivered the heartbreaking news that they saw him kissing a new stylist that started working for them ironically when things started to go shit. You felt many things. You felt betrayed, you felt hurt, you felt sick, you felt embarrassed. He swore he loved you, he pinkie swore he loved you not even three days ago. However, you trusted your best friend and you saw visual proof which was more proof or clues on how much he "loved" you. Even though it killed you, you texted back, "So Long, Iksan." before blocking his number and preparing yourself on officially getting over him.