#i want to spill every secret i've ever kept. i want to come out to everybody.

[thatdude-noah]

there is something seriously wrong with my brain i need a diagnosis oh my god

[reiderwriter]

More Than Words

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female BAU!Reader

Requested: yes

Summary: After telling a white lie to your family about your relationship status, your forced to beg your coworker Spencer to pretend to be your boyfriend for a weekend wedding.

Warnings: Light smut at the end, penetrative sex, creampie, mentions of Spencer's childhood.

A/N: Thank you for the request on this one! Ever since I rewatched Season 7 and saw Spencer dancing with everyone at JJ's wedding I've been thinking non-stop about him just holding you close like that and I'm going to shut up now because 8k words of that is more than enough lmao.

You can find my masterlist here, and I just started posting all my stuff on AO3 as well, so if you prefer to read there, check it out!

Despite knowing about your brother’s impending nuptials for the last 18 months, it was in the final two-week stretch that you actually started panicking about getting the date that you’d promised them. It was one sweet little white lie that you had made that had just spiraled out of control, but you’d yet to actually manifest the secretive boyfriend who was “very real actually, mom, he’s coming to the wedding actually.”

It was that statement that had sealed your fate, and always one to wear your emotions on your face when you weren’t on a case, it wasn’t long before someone noticed your building anxiety and guilt.

“Okay, spill Y/N. You look like you just witnessed your favorite author kick a puppy or a kitten or something,” Penelope said when you dropped some files off in her room that morning, spinning around on her chair to face you as soon as she caught your reflection in her monitor.

“It’s this wedding I have to go to,” you sighed dramatically, falling into one of the other chairs in the room kept for visitors.

“Want me to help you get out of it?” Penelope offered, patting your hand comfortingly.

“I’m not sure my brother would be too pleased about that, since it’s his wedding and all. My mother would drag me down all the way from here herself if she had to.”

“Okay, so a no-show is a no-go. Then what gives, my sweet avenging angel? There has to be something serious to get you looking all glum.”

You sighed and ran a hand through your hair before straightening up and leaning into Penelope more, creating an air of secrecy.

“Promise you won’t tell?”

“Oh sweetie, if only you knew the secrets these four walls held,” she replied dramatically, pulling a laugh from you.

“Last year, I was so, I don’t know, jealous I guess, of all the attention my brother and his fiancee were getting because of the wedding, and it just felt like every time my mom called me, she would only want to talk about them because of the wedding. I felt left out, and I already live so far away anyway, so it’s hard to have that connection with people back home, so I might have told a small, tiny, inconsequential lie that now actually has consequences?” Your face flushes at the confession, and you can see Penelope trying her best not to blurt out her thoughts, intent on letting you continue.

“I told her I was seeing this guy. He’s amazing, he works in the FBI just like me, and he’s smart, and he takes me on dates to these amazing places, like museums and interesting restaurants and to book fairs. I told her he was handsome and that he looked at me like I put the stars in the night sky, and he just doesn't exist, Penelope. And now I have to disappoint my mother again by turning up to my brother's wedding without a date.”

“Oh sweetheart,” was all she said for a minute, and the sympathetic look on her face made you want to run out of there immediately.

“I know, I know, I need to tell her the truth, but I don’t want to do it at the wedding and spoil her happiness. She loves weddings.”

“And this fake boyfriend is supposed to be your plus-one?” she asked.

“My invitation read ‘To our darling sister and her mystery man,’” you groaned, wondering how you could have been so childish in the first place. You’d acted like any child on a playground would, inventing lies to make yourself seem more important and cooler.

“I think I have the perfect solution for you, angel, but you might not like it,” Penelope grinned from her chair, leaning back and playing with the pen in her hands nefariously as if she’d been waiting for this chance her whole life. You didn’t trust that look, but you had no other option, so you took a deep breath and listened to her plan.

–X–

Three days later, and you were suddenly pacing the hallways with a coffee and a croissant, poised and ready to kidnap an FBI Agent the second he passed you.

At first, you’d laughed at the suggestion she’d made, outlandish as it was. But 72 hours of reflection, and a timely phone call from your mother, and suddenly you were on board and ready to lock on to your target. You stopped pacing when you heard the elevator ding, signaling the arrival of Spencer Reid. You were thankful that his schedule was so regular and timed down to the minute that you had just enough time to ambush him in the hallway before any other member of your team noticed.

“Spencer! Here I bought you coffee and a croissant from that cafe I mentioned a while back,” you panicked, unloading the gifts into his arms quickly, taking him off guard, before checking left and right before pushing him into the nearest empty room and shutting it behind you.

“Good morning to you, too, Y/N. Is there a reason we’re in a closet right now?” he asked, looking down at you with knitted eyebrows.

“Yes,” you gumped, afraid to say anymore.

“Are you going to tell me what the reason is?”

“I need you to be my boyfriend for a weekend,” you finally blurted out.

“You need me to… Just for a weekend?” He looked confused, and you felt your cheeks flame up, as you tried your best to explain the situation for him.

“My brother is getting married in LA this weekend, and I need a date. I told my mom last year that I was in a relationship with a really great guy who also works for the FBI.”

“Oh. So, you broke up with him and don’t want to tell your mom?”

“No, he never existed. Long story, I can explain on the plane, but I really need you to come with me! I’ll pay for everything, and I’ll even get you this coffee and any pastry of your choice every day for a month, please, please, please!” You begged him, so desperate that you were moments away from dropping to your knees and grabbing his leg, refusing to move until he acquiesced. You didn’t have to in the end.

“Oh, sure, I’ll go. When did you say it was?” Your jaw fell open in shock, and it took a few seconds to pull yourself back together as you reacted to his words.

“This weekend? The flight is tomorrow at 6 a.m.” You smiled sheepishly as his eyes bugged out of his head.

“This weekend? What were you going to do if I said no?” He laughed at you a little, taking a sip of the coffee you bought him.

“Honestly? Plan B was to cry, and plan C was to kill off my mystery man in a freak accident.”

“Wow, we just started fake dating and you’re already trying to bump me off.” His smile made you burn hotter than before, as you playfully hit his arm in response.

“Stop saying we’re dating. I pulled you in here to ask you privately because I didn’t want weird rumors circulating in the office,” you pouted.

“Then you better let me out of the closet, Y/N, before people think we’re doing something we shouldn’t be. At least three people saw you drag me in here, you know.”

With that, you rush to open the door and run out, shouting a reminder back at him.

“Just be ready, okay. I’ll see you at the airport at 6 a.m.”

–X–

The flight, despite being ridiculously long, was altogether quite pleasant, and you made it back to California in one piece, Spencer trailing behind you like a lost puppy for a while, letting you take up the role of “airport dad” as you guided him through the airport and to the hotel where the wedding was being held.

“So what’s our cover story?” He asked in the taxi on the way there, breaking the comfortable silence.

“What cover story?” you asked, looking up at him from your phone, still focused on just getting to the destination.

“Where did we meet, how long have we been dating, how much do they know about me?” He listed off the possible questions that his parents were absolutely going to interrogate him with soon. “I need to prepare so we don’t get caught out, right?”

“Oh, right. Based on what I told them, we met at work and we’ve been seeing each other casually for about a year now. I didn’t give them a name yet, which annoys my mom to no end, but I was always pretty private as a child so she didn’t find it all that suspicious. Other than that, they don’t know that much about my mystery boyfriend apart from the things we’ve done together.” He listened attentively as you spoke, taking each of your words in and committing them to memory.

“What was our first date?” He asked.

“Coffee shop. That place I got you the coffee from earlier, it’s called Flondon. I’m a regular there, so it made sense to use it in my story.”

“What else have we done together?”

“There was a book fair in New York a few months back that we, uh, spent the weekend at. You surprised me for my birthday with the tickets.”

“Wow, so I’m a really great boyfriend then.” He joked a little, and you let out another groan of annoyance at his teasing. You didn’t get the chance to finish your conversation though, as the taxi finally pulled up to the hotel.

You climbed out of the taxi after paying the driver, Spencer having already left to grab your bags, before walking into the foyer of the hotel.

“Y/N, just one last thing before we go in,” he stopped you at the door, grabbing you by the arm gently. “Are we… the, um. Hotels tend to get booked up pretty early for weddings, and I’m sure your family will be suspicious if we don’t share a room so…”

He didn’t have to finish voicing his thoughts before you were cursing, not having made the connection before.

“Shit, you’re right. My brother made the booking for me months ago. We just have to go in and get the room key but I totally forgot… It’s fine, right? We’ve roomed together on cases, haven’t we?” You asked, looking up at him.

“No, we haven’t. 67% of our motel bookings allow for single occupation rooms for Agents, I end up sharing a room with Morgan for 15% of overnight stays where double occupation is necessary, Hotch for another 17%, and the remaining 1% is made up of outliers where I had to share with Rossi or Prentiss, but we…we haven’t shared before.” He gestured between the two of you for a moment there, letting the facts sit with you.

“Spencer, it’s okay with me, is it okay with you? I understand if you’re not comfortable with it. We can just turn around now if you want.”

“No, no it’s totally fine. I just wanted to make sure you’re comfortable with it. Morgan says I snore, so I guess I’m not the best roommate in the world.” He smiled at you then, reassuringly, and moved his hand down your arm until it reached your hand.

You looked down at where his hand had entwined with yours and your heart gave a little jolt. Spencer didn’t like physical touch, and you knew that. You tried not to initiate any contact with him, despite being a touchy person, but there had been times after particularly tough cases and with close calls where you’d thrown yourself into the nearest person's arms, and he always happened to be near.

But those hugs had been thoughtless, natural reactions to stressful situations and this was intentional, and more importantly, he’d started it.

“Sorry, I just assumed we should get used to, uh, touching each other, I guess? We’re going to be doing it all weekend, you know, might as well start now.” He gave you an awkward closed-lip smile, and you giggled at his awkward explanatory tone. Squeezing his hand a bit, you grabbed your suitcase again in your free hand, and pushed open the door with your shoulder, pulling Spencer in behind you.

The lobby was filled with people arriving for the wedding, and you instantly spotted three cousins and two aunts from across the room, giving them a little smile as you made your way to the reception desk, Spencer right at your side.

“Hi, reservation for Y/N L/N, please.”

“Sister of the groom, right? Your mother asked me to give her a call when you arrived. Please wait one minute.” She handed you your key, and you felt yourself go pale, turning around to Spencer for reassurance.

“Oh god, she’s coming now, what do we do?”

“Y/N, calm down, it’s okay, we knew we were going to have to see your mom tonight at the reception anyways.”

“You’re right. Okay, right. Okay.” You breathed out, as Spencer wrapped his other arm around you, holding you in a closer embrace while keeping your hands locked together.

“One of my aunts is looking at us. She looks like she wants to say something. Oh god, she’s coming over, Spencer act natural,”

“Saying act naturally is actually counter-active-” but he didn’t have time to finish before you had turned to greet the older woman, disentangling yourself from Spencer’s arms as you hugged the woman warmly.

“It’s so good to see you, Y/N, you know how we all worry about you doing that job of yours. The other week we saw you on the news about that tragedy with the young girl…” she trailed off, giving you a worrying look before quickly shifting her gaze to her actual target, Spencer.

“I think I saw you too, young man. You must be Y/N’s boyfriend,” she smiled at him, waiting to hear a response so she could return to the other matrons with the gossip.

“Yeah, nice to meet you, I’m Spencer.” You could tell he was thankful that the woman hadn’t stuck her hand out to shake his, as he positioned himself mostly behind you, keeping his hands occupied by letting one settle on your hip and the other keeping a hold of your suitcase.

“Spencer? Spencer Reid?” You heard your mother before you saw her, turning around in your place to finally see her, as Spencer whipped his head around as well. “I’ve heard so much about you. It’s so wonderful to finally meet you.”

Your mother had none of the restraint of your aunt, and unfortunately, you’d inherited your clingy side from her, which is why she immediately swooped in to give Spencer a hug. To his credit, he greeted her warmly as well and didn’t avoid the touch, but he kept it short and polite nonetheless.

“Mom, how did you know…”

“You tell me about your coworkers all the time, I’m just surprised I didn’t work it out sooner. I always said that you talked about that Spencer with a fond tone, you should ask your father, he’ll tell you that I did.” You rolled your eyes at your mother’s words, doing your best to avoid Spencer’s gaze. He’d fallen back into place by your side as you greeted your mother.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you, You know, Y/N has been keeping you as this big secret for the last year, and it’s so nice to see that you’re actually real. You’re here!” She sounded so excited for you that your heart almost broke under the weight of your guilt, knowing that you’d have to come clean at some point after the wedding. As it was, you were already going to have to try really hard to avoid the photographer and videographer throughout the night so you didn’t have to be constantly reminded of your idiocy whenever your mother got the photo albums out,

“Sorry, the two of you are probably exhausted after that flight, right? Go and get yourself unpacked. The rehearsal dinner is at 8 p.m. so we’ll catch up then, sweetheart.” She left in a whirlwind, having deposited you next to the elevators, and left you with no other option but to do exactly as she said, making your way to your space for the weekend.

–X–

The following few hours had been a little awkward, to say the least. You’d awkwardly pulled away from one another in the elevator up to the room, apologizing for invading each other's personal space. The room was a decent size, but still small enough that you’d be constantly tripping up over one another the entire weekend if you weren’t careful.

Reid carefully unpacked his tuxedo when you got into the room, and then quietly informed you that he’d need a shower. You’d unpacked your own things while he did, trying not to listen to the water flowing over his body in the next room. His earlier touch had ignited something in you, and your heart was beating at his every gesture now, something that you were sure it hadn’t done before.

What was it about weddings that made you so open to even the possibility of romance that even someone so off-limits could become the object of your affection?

So you tried not to listen, not to wonder why it was taking the man so long to just take a shower, not to let your mind wander to a place where it was perfectly acceptable to wonder what he looked like in that shower, and you unpacked and organized your things.

“Hey, Y/N, I’m really sorry but I forgot to bring my clothes with me,” he called awkwardly through the door a few minutes after you heard the water turn off, and you turned to the bathroom, not expecting the sight before you.

You’d assumed from the quiet volume of his voice that he was calling from within the bathroom itself, but instead, he stood awkwardly in front of you, a towel wrapped around his waist and torso, held together desperately in one hand.

“Oh shit, sorry, I’ll just turn around, I guess,” you stumbled over the words, dragging your eyes back up to his face as you did so, whipping yourself around to stare ahead of you.

“No, no, it’s my fault. I was so hasty I forgot my outfit for tonight. It’s okay.” You heard him fumble for his clothes and return to the bathroom quickly with another mumbled apology, finally allowing you to let out a deep, almost dreamy sigh, startling yourself. Mentally chastising yourself once again, you finished your organizing and let yourself fall onto the bed in the middle of the room sleepily while you waited for him to come out again.

You must have dozed off a little because you woke with a jolt when you felt a soft touch on your arm. There he was above you, a soft and concerned look on his face as he woke you up as kindly as he could.

“Y/N, it’s 7 p.m. We need to get ready for the rehearsal.” He whispered as if he weren’t too bothered if you didn’t want to go down at all, content to let you sleep. But you forced yourself upright anyways, and nodded at his words, swiftly moving yourself towards the bathroom he had since departed.

“Thanks for waking me, Spence,” You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, gathering your towels and change of clothes before turning back to him. In the four hours you’d apparently been dead to the world, he’d managed to dry his hair, change his clothes, and, from the looks of the book on the bedside table, read through an entire book twice.

He noticed you looking and cleared his throat. “Sorry, you looked so tired I didn’t want to wake you, so I just sat here and read while you got some sleep.”

“It’s okay, Spence. I guess I was pretty tired. I’m gonna go…” you gestured towards the shower and stepped towards it with an awkward smile, not letting him answer before you had closed the door between you and taken a deep breath, setting thoughts of him aside for the night before you focused on getting yourself ready to face your lies.

An hour later, you were making your way back down to the lobby, having received a text from your brother that that was where everyone was gathering before making their way to the dining room. Spencer offered you his arm in the elevator on the way down.

“Here, grab my arm.” He said softly down to you, a sweet smile playing on his lips.

“Oh yeah that makes sense,” you said distractedly, looping your own through his and leaning into him.

“It’ll also stop you from picking your nails,” he joked.

“I don’t pick my nails!”

“You so do. You do it when you’re nervous and when you lie about something. Last month on that case in Chicago when that officer asked for your number, you told him you had a boyfriend and started picking your nails,” he laughed down at you, enjoying your pouting face a bit too much as he profiled you.

“You’re one to talk. The last time a woman asked you out, you started rambling about the linguistic history of the phrase “go out,” in the romantic sense. She stood there for five minutes before she gave up.”

“Wait, when did that happen? I don’t remember any woman trying to ask me out.”

“Then you’re even denser than I realized, Doctor Reid, because they do it constantly.” Your back and forth ended there, though, as the elevator doors finally opened into the lobby. You smoothed out your dress and tried your best to act natural as the two of you made your entrance.

“Y/N! Over here,” you heard your brother and saw him wave at you from the other side of the room, his fiancee next to him receiving guests.

“It’s been so long since I saw my kid sister. Get over here,” he smiled at you, beckoning you over, and you released your hold on Reid to give your brother a warm hug.

“Now who is this kid sister you’re talking about because last I checked you’re only 18 months older than me.”

“18 months, 18 years, all that matters is that I am, in fact, the older one,” he released you from the bear hug and glanced up to Reid, standing awkwardly watching the scene waiting for an invitation to the conversation. “Holy shit, you’re real.”

“Hey! Be nice. This is Spencer, he’s my… he’s my boyfriend, we work together.” You felt your cheeks flame as you introduced the two of them, your brother looking at Spencer through knitted eyebrows, taking on a faux protective stance.

“Spencer, hey. Mom mentioned you were here earlier, but I didn’t think you’d be so gangly… It’s my wedding, and I’ve been told I have to keep all threats to a minimum, but if I see you getting all handsy with my sister, just know that I have a blackbelt in jiu-jitsu.”

“No, you don’t. You have a yellow belt in karate at most, and you got that at age 10.” You laughed at the man.

“And whose fault is that?”

“Oh my god, it’s been almost 20 years, I already apologized!”

“Apologised for what?” Spencer finally managed to butt in, watching your sibling bickering as if it were a tennis match.

“This little rodent,” your brother said, scruffing up your hair as he spoke, “broke my wrist when she was 8 and I was 10.”

“It was self-defense! You were trying to use your karate moves on me and I panicked!”

“And now, you’re a hot-shot FBI Agent and you get to break bad guys wrists all the time.” He finished for you and you laughed, suddenly glad to be back around family.

“So, Spencer, you’re an FBI Agent, too? I thought my mom mentioned something about you being a Doctor earlier.”

“I am. A Doctor. And an FBI Agent, uh, they’re PhD’s not medical degrees, though. Three of them, Math, Chemistry and Engineering. I also have Bachelor's Degrees in Psychology, Philosophy, and Sociology.” He answered, and you looked up at him proudly, taking his hand as you noticed him growing slightly uncomfortable with the attention from your brother.

“Wow,” was all your brother said, until he finished the statement with “All those degrees and my sister was the best you could do, huh?” You punched him in the arm after that, and you felt Spencer physically relax a bit, twinning your fingers with his as you chastised your brother.

“Anyway, thanks for taking the time to come to our, hopefully, lovely wedding, the reception will be starting soon. The dining hall is just through there.” You hugged your brother again, and, with a breath of relief, led Spencer down the hall to the dining hall.

“That went well, I think?” you whispered to him, conspiratorially.

“Your family is nice,” he replied. “Does he always act like that, or is it the wedding spirit possessing him somehow?”

“If you’re referring to my brother, I think he’s probably partaken in a few flutes of champagne already this evening. But yes, he’s always like that. They all like to treat me like a baby when they see me.”

“I think it’s nice. They care about you a lot,” his words were warm, but his eyes were sad, and you remembered what you’d been told of Spencer’s own childhood and felt your heart ache for him. His mom loved him a lot, but Spencer had needed to grow up much too fast. You squeezed his hand, still clasped in yours and before you knew it you were pushing onto your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Thank you, Spencer. For being here,” you said as his now flushed face met yours. You didn’t let him respond though, simply pushing forward into the dining hall, ready to live in the fantasy of your own making for the evening.

–X–

“Spencer, you were amazing!” You giggled, walking down the hall to your room, stumbling slightly in your excitement and haste.

“Those magic tricks? The little babies couldn’t get enough of you,” you spun around, wrapping your arms around the man’s neck and pulling him in close to you, letting him hold you against the door to your room. He laughed a little at your antics as he pulled out the key card.

“Y/N, are you drunk?” he asked, one hand firmly planted on your waist to steady you now.

“No! I’m just happy. And if that happiness was caused by an array of cocktails forced into my hands by distant aunts and cousins who all wanted to know about my absolute catch of a boyfriend, then that is simply secondary to the feeling itself. And furthermore-” He pushed the door behind you in on itself, and your words were cut off by your legs giving out beneath you.

You were so sure you were about to take a tumble to the floor that you shut your eyes tight and braced for an impact that didn’t come. Opening them again slowly, you saw Spencer closer than before, his face mere inches from your own as he held you in an improvised dip, having caught you just before you’d hit the ground.

“Sorry. I… Shit, maybe I am drunk,” you breathed out, not letting your eyes drift from his own, knowing that if you ever considered a glance down at his lips at that moment, you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from closing the measly distance separating you.

“You should use the bathroom first,” he told you, but without making any move of his own, stuck in that pose with you as if he was content to stay there for as long as he could hold you. “You should take your make-up off. We have a long day tomorrow, right?”

You were the first one to move, letting your feet find a more solid footing beneath you and twisting up from his grip. His hands didn’t leave your body as you became more upright though, still keeping you in that close embrace.

“Yeah, I should… I should go wash up.” You said, and he nodded, still looking at you with the same intensity as before.

“Spencer, that means you need to move,” you whispered quietly, and he jumped back as soon as the words were out of your mouth.

“Sorry. I’ll just… I’ll just be over there,” he held his hands up in surrender before moving further into the room, leaving you next to the bathroom.

Fifteen minutes later, you emerged from the bathroom and were ready to sleep once again. Thankfully, you of earlier that day had managed to store your pajamas in the bathroom ready for their use. Upon exiting the bathroom, you saw that Spencer was getting ready to sleep too, slacks and a shirt having been replaced by a pair of flannel pants and a very old and beaten-up CalTech sweater, looking perplexedly down at the bed.

“Spence, what’s wrong?”

“We didn’t speak any further about the sleeping arrangements…” he mumbled and you looked at the bed in front of you, still confused at his meaning. “Y/N, we have to share the bed.”

“Oh.” You knew you probably sounded dumb, but after the amount of alcohol thrust upon you that night, that was all you could muster at this point.

“I can sleep on the floor if that makes you feel more comfortable. It’s probably no worse than some of the motel beds we’ve stayed on before,” he offered, but you instantly shook your head.

“No, I dragged you out here, I’m not making you sleep on the floor as well,” you sighed and made your way to the side of the bed you’d slept on earlier, beginning to pull the covers down so you could get in.

“What are you doing?” Spencer asked, perplexed by your somehow contrasting words and actions.

“I’m getting ready for bed. It’s late.” You replied, not looking up at him again, for fear that he’d spot the blush on your face. “You should too,” you continued, patting the other side of the bed, gesturing for him to get in, too.

“Oh.” It was his turn to stand there shell-shocked in the moment, and you almost let out a giggle but held back thinking that would be too much for him to take in at that moment.

“Come on, Spence, I’m tired, I’m sure you’re tired. We’re just sharing a bed, it’s not like you have to marry me after this.” You climbed fully into the bed, making sure that your nightgown covered you decently before pulling the covers up around you. Spencer mumbled something that you didn’t catch, but he acquiesced and climbed in after you. You turned your head over on the pillow to face him, turning onto your side as you watched him turn his head to you as well.

“What?” he smiled, noticing your stare.

“Nothing. Good night, Spence,” you smiled, finally letting your eyes drop closed.

“Good night, Y/N.” He whispered, and the sound of his voice carried you off to sleep.

–X–

You weren’t sure if it was the light streaming in through the window or the rise and fall of a chest that wasn’t your own was the first thing to wake you in the morning, but nonetheless, you woke from the comfortable warmth of sleep and found yourself wrapped around your fake boyfriend.

To be fair to yourself, he was also wrapped around you. Your head had gravitated from your pillow to his chest, his left arm wrapped up and around your back. Your leg had also risen in the night, pulled up over his waist, held in place by his other arm, which was, almost embarrassingly, cradling your ass, pulling you in closer to his core. Unsure about how to go about disentangling yourself, you resigned yourself to just waking the man up.

“Spencer… Spencer,” you whispered, letting the hand that had fallen onto his chest tap him slightly. He stirred a little and then cracked an eye open, looking confused with the situation.

“Y/N, is it time for the wedding?” He asked through half-lidded eyes, evidently wanting nothing more than to fall back into whatever dreams he was having. You shifted uncomfortably in his arms then, suddenly growing stiff in the position you’d probably held for hours, and found your nightgown had risen dangerously high on your body, his hand on your near bare ass.

“No, no, it’s just…” You rolled your hips against his in discomfort, and the movement had his eyes breaking open as he finally took in your positions.

“Shit, I’m….Sorry, I don’t know what happened, I must’ve grabbed you when we were sleeping,” he said, reluctantly slipping his hands away from your body, trailing his hand around your leg, and letting it fall onto his stomach. The movement sent a shiver up your spine, as you finally had enough room to lift your torso up, not quite ready to relinquish the proximity of your entire body yet.

“It’s okay, I think it was probably me who started it in the first place. Those pillows weren’t that comfortable…” you tried to explain, the hand on his chest rubbing slow circles into his skin before you could realize what you were doing.

He pushed himself up into a sitting position then as well, clumsily. With your legs still wrapped around his waist, you had no choice but to move with him, suddenly finding yourself straddling him, the bedsheets suddenly pressed away from your body. If he looked down, he’d see a lot more than you planned for him to see, your panties on clear display as your nightgown twisted itself up into the sheets.

“Shit sorry,” he moaned out again, as you steadied yourself with hands on his shoulders.

“No, it’s okay, I didn’t move quick enough.” You quickly pulled your dress down again, and extracted yourself from the bed, lifting your leg up and off of him and finally pushing off the bed, leaving him sat there.

His hands fell into his lap and you started gathering things around the room, readying yourself for the busy day ahead.

“I have to be in the bridal suite at 11, so we have about… two hours to kill before then. Do you want to grab a shower first, or should I?”

“You first,” he mumbled quickly, before clearing his throat and trying again. “You should go first. You probably have more to do today, right?” You nodded at his words and made your way to the bathroom again. Out of the corner of your eye though, as you let the door close behind you, you watched his hands come up to cradle his flushed face, as he let his head fall back again into the pillow.

–X–

The morning was so busy after that, you barely had any chance to talk to Spencer again. You spent the early afternoon in the bridal suite with the wedding party, welcoming your new sister to the family, then made your way to the aisle space set up outside, checking up on last-minute details and helping to flower girls into position. You weren’t walking down the aisle yourself, but you could see that the extra help was letting the very stressed-out Maid of Honour get some well-needed respite. And more importantly, it stopped your wandering thoughts from letting you fantasize about Spencer.

You’d woken up in bed next to people before, of course, but it had never felt so comfortable. In fact, other people you’d slept with said you were pretty distant in your sleep, choosing to move as far away from physical touch as you could get, but you knew with no doubt that you had been the one to move in first, to touch him first. That he’d pulled you even closer had your heart singing, and you wanted to be wrapped up in him all over again, suddenly desperate to seek him out. So you distracted yourself, not wanting to make any mistakes you would regret when you were no longer wrapped up in your own fantasy.

So you kept your distance as the ceremony started. Then the wedding march was playing, and you were holding back tears as his hand slipped into yours, your head falling onto his shoulder as you watched your brother marry the love of his life.

You kept your distance as you reached the reception hall, watching all the old ladies on both sides fawn over him, asking him questions, and watching from his side as he blushed at the attention. You swept the hair out of his eyes as the couple was announced, and you took your seat for the wedding meal and the speeches, his hand falling to your back to guide you to your chair, pulling it out for you like a true gentleman.

You kept your distance as your new sister tossed the bouquet, and despite your low effort and the ravenous looks of the bridesmaids, it fell neatly into your hands as if it belonged there. You ran excitedly over to him to show him and he lifted you into a hug, caught up in your own excitement.

You kept your distance until you realized you’d not kept your distance at all, physically unable to keep yourself away from the man who had somehow stolen your heart in the middle of the night.

“I know that look,” your brother said, somehow sneaking up on you later into the night as you watched Spencer perform even more of his magic tricks for the smaller guests.

“What look?” you asked, not for one second letting your eyes drift from Spencer.

“You’re in love with him,” he said, taking a swig of the drink in his hand.

“He’s my boyfriend,” you said reflexively, turning to the drinks table behind you and picking up one for yourself.

“No, he isn’t. Or at least he wasn’t before this weekend,” your brother said, as your eyes finally snapped up to him.

“Oh, don’t act all surprised, Miss FBI Profiler. You may be good, but I’ll always be your older brother, and contrary to popular opinion, I do in fact pay attention to things.” You sighed and leaned back against the table.

“How’d you figure it out?”

“You were picking your nails the entire way through the reception dinner when the aunties were asking you about your relationship. You did that when we were younger too, when you tried lying to Mom and Dad about how I broke my wrist. Doesn’t take two PhD’s to figure that out.”

“Three.”

“Three what?”

“Three PhDs. He has three of them.” You sighed dreamily and ran a stressed hand through your head.

“He’s just my coworker. I didn’t want to disappoint Mom by coming alone after telling her all those stories, but now…” You tried to explain yourself but words were escaping you in that moment.

“You should tell him, trust me. He definitely feels the same.”

“How are you so confident about that? How did you manage to end up with all of the confidence between the two of us, when I can barely work up the courage to tell my own mother I’m still single?”

“Y/N, look at me. You got the brains, I had to have something. And no man flies to the opposite side of the country on a few day's notice for a girl who is just a friend, okay? That’s more logic than confidence, and that’s supposed to be your strong suit.”

You considered his words for a second, turning back to look at Spencer. Evidently, he’d finished his magic show and was beginning to say goodbye to the children, but he felt your eyes on him somehow and met your gaze. He brought his hand up into a shy wave before a little girl grabbed his attention again, and he looked at her seriously, nodding along to each word she was saying.

“Fuck, what do I do, I’m not good with… any of this.” You turned back to your brother, but he’d left you there, stranded in your own thoughts as you let yourself hope, let your brain dream that one day this would be your wedding and the man by your side would be Spencer Reid.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the bride and groom request the presence of all the couples on the dancefloor for this next song.” You saw your brother again, next to his wife, whispering his explanations in his ear as she turned to look at you and winked as well. God, they were going to be a force to be reckoned with together now, you thought, as people started pushing past you to make their way to the dancefloor.

You recognized the song of course, and it was almost so on the nose you almost rolled your eyes. More Than Words by Extreme. Perfect.

“Y/N, may I have this dance?” He had somehow snuck up on you from behind as you watched your brother, and held his hand out to you. You put your drink down and took it, letting him lead you to the dance floor.

“I didn’t think you danced, Dr. Reid,” you teased him as he pulled you in, letting his hands rest on your waist, as yours came up around his neck, gently letting him sway you side to side in time with the music.

“I don’t really, but it seemed wrong not to,” he smiled. “I’m at a wedding, with the most beautiful girl on my arm, and the couple made it very clear that we should be dancing, so here I am.” You blushed at his words as he spoke. He removed his hands from your waist, instead grasping one of yours in his own as he pulled you closer.

You stared up at him with a soft smile for a few more seconds before letting your head fall back to his chest.

“I know I’ve said it a lot this weekend, but thank you, Spencer.” You said into his shirt, letting him hold you close as the song went on.

“You don’t have to thank me, Y/N.” He insisted, and you looked up at him again. “Actually… I didn’t exactly agree to this with the best of intentions.”

Your heart lept to your throat as you stared up at him, hoping that he would take your silence as a means to continue.

“I’ve been… I thought that maybe…” he struggled to get the words out, his face aflame with the effort.

“You promised me those coffees right?” He finally stuttered out, and you were left confused and a little disappointed.

“Yeah, Spence, it’s okay, I’ll get you those coffees for the month, just like we promised.” You couldn’t help the sad smile that played on your lips as you answered him, so sure that he was about to say something else.

“No, I mean… Y/N I don’t want the coffee. I want this. I want us to go home, and make everything that you made up come true. I want to take you on a date to that coffee shop. I want to be a boyfriend you can call and tell your mom about because it’s serious and it’s going to work out between us. I even… God, I even spent the morning looking up book fairs in New York City so I could make that come true as well,” he rambled the words out and you could feel the tears forming in your eyes.

“Spencer,” you said softly, trying to get him to focus on you, but he’d started speaking and he wasn’t going to be stopped so easily.

“And if any of that creeps you out, just say the word and I’ll never mention it again. Because I know I’m not good with this, and when I feel something, I tend to feel it overwhelmingly, and Derek tells me I can be really oblivious sometimes, which I don’t really get, but-”

“Spencer,” you put a bit more force into your words this time, punctuating them with a hand on his face.

“Spencer, kiss me.” And he does. He takes your head in both of his hands, and he draws you up to him perfectly, letting your hands fall to the lapels of his suit jacket as he steals your breath away one more time. The kiss is lingering, but short, and he hesitantly backs away, looking around to spot witnesses. But you don’t care and you pull him back down for another, and another, until you’re just two lovers on the dance floor that cannot get enough of each other, gasping for breath between chaste kisses as you let him hold you there, gently swaying.

“Spencer,” you whisper finally, forehead resting on his, as the song finally draws to a close.

“Yes?”

“Spencer, take me to bed.” You tell him, and he nods. He leads you over to the bride and groom where you offer each of them a hug and a happy future before making your excuses and running away with Spencer back into the hotel like two love-drunk teenagers, a mess of giggles and stolen kisses as you stumble up to your room for the second time that weekend.

But this time, you don’t hesitate, don’t pull away. He backs you into the door and you let him hold you there, his mouth on yours, your tongues entwined as he fumbles for his key card. You fall together into the room, laughing and smiling the entire way, not letting him escape your touch.

“May I?” He asks, playing with the zipper of your dress as you kiss his cheek, his jaw, his neck, anywhere you can reach, nodding and moaning your consent. The moment the zip is pulled down, he lets you go for a second, and the dress falls straight to the floor. You're practically bare in front of him, chest exposed, neck littered with the beginning of love bites that he’s about to absolutely build upon.

“You’re beautiful.” He says, softly, wrapping his arms around you again, lifting you up so your legs can wrap around him as he delivers one more soul-crushing kiss to your lips. Your brain is a mess of emotions, your only solid thought is that you will never let him go again. You both eagerly worked on unbuttoning his shirt together, a desperate mess of breaths as he finally laid you on the bed. His hand fell to your core, tracing a finger over your sensitive nub as you begged him for more, needing to feel all of him, to devour his very existence.

He pulled himself out of his remaining clothes, lips still attached to yours, climbing over you and holding you tenderly, his arms wrapping around your body as his legs came to settle between your own. Dropping his forehead to yours, he finally spoke again, his hand dropping between the two of you to line himself up.

“Is this… are you sure?” You heard the restraint in his voice, the desperation, the love, the overwhelming lust as he held himself back, needing to hear your consent.

“Spencer, I love you,” you whispered, and he finally pushed himself into you, joining the two of you together in a moment of bliss. You shared another sweet kiss, letting him swallow each and every one of your moans as he began thrusting into you, your hips rising to meet him in your delirious pleasure.

He whispered sweet nothings in your ears, brushing the hair off your face every now and again to tell you how beautiful you looked, and how well you were doing.

“You’re so perfect, Y/N, you’re doing so good for me,” he pressed kisses against your neck with each word, keeping his pace steady as you chased your inevitable high, already clenching around his thick cock.

“Spencer, I love you,” you let the words drop from your tongue like a prayer, repeating them over and over with each thrust as small tears welled up out of your eyes. He kissed them away from your cheeks, listening to each confession as your stomach tightened and your climax spilled over you. He grabbed your waist then, leaving one hand cupping and stroking your cheek as his own thrusts grew sloppy, finally spending himself fully inside you.

“I love you, too,” he whispered into you then, unwilling to let you go for even one second. You spent the rest of the night whispering the words back and forth to one another, waiting with bated breath for the fantasy to break, for the magic of the wedding to wear off.

It never did.

[quirkle2]

so one thing i rly like abt mob psycho (shocker !) is that the Incident between the kageyama brothers is kept entirely contained. like, most other shows—at least ones that i've watched—feature long monologues of characters traumadumping to other characters, sometimes in the middle of fights, and while that Does happen a lot in mob psycho, the kageyama bros never do this abt The Incident, and i think that's a fascinating choice bc The Incident is the entire reason why the show starts in the first place. it's the reason mob meets reigen at all, it's the reason mob doesn't fight back against teru, it's the reason ritsu goes through his character arc. it is arguably the Most Important Story Beat and the show has countless opportunities to let the characters spill their guts on screen for drama, and yet neither of the brothers let this spill. neither of them talk about it, except with each other

there's been numerous times i've watched shows where people suddenly traumadump and tell their life story unprompted when truly not a single soul asked, but with mob psycho, both the bros are Constantly berated with questions on Why they do these things; Why are you so off-putting and quiet, Why do you not use your powers, Why won't you fight back, Why do you want psychic powers so badly, Why are you ruining these students' lives now that you have them, Why are you helping me defeat my evil dad . all of these questions eventually loop back around to The Incident, and yet neither of them ever let it slip. neither of them Ever share, and the only time they come anywhere close to it is in the wd arc

it is the event that Shaped Who They Grew Into, and yet it is not known by the main cast at all. teru has no idea, even reigen doesn't seem to understand the full extent of it, even though The Incident is what caused mob to come to his office. their parents prolly don't even know

idk, i just think that's a good detail. the brothers both hold the weight of their troubles close to their chests. and even though that makes it seem as though they figure it out on their own, it couldn't be further from the truth

their own experiences with the people around them allowed them to grow and make mistakes and learn from them, all without sharing their deepest secret, and then both took those new experiences and lessons and applied it to this issue, and learned Again

meanwhile, the rest of the cast is largely clueless abt this Entire issue. it's Crazy to me that most of the cast has no idea what the main issue is, and i think it's a brilliant choice. these characters helped the kageyama bros without ever meaning to or knowing about it, no matter how big or small the role. you truly never know what somebody else is going through !

and even in the end, it's not like there's a big reveal that tells every character the kageyama brothers' Tragic Backstory. nobody fucking knows, still. like Yeah they should totally talk this out and go to therapy or smth but i just like the fact that the story doesn't treat it as some dramatic fanfare for Other Character's Shock Value and doesn't let them air their troubles to the ends of the earth. i appreciate that

[metalmonki]

A Well Kept Secret Part 2

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

1.8k word count

Summary You and Spencer have been in a secret relationship for a year. When you unexpectedly become pregnant it becomes harder to keep that secret.

fluff

Warnings mention of cheating while drunk.

Part 1

Six and a half months had crawled by since the life-altering night. Exhaustion clung to you like a second skin, your belly a growing testament to the little miracle nestled within. Today was the day you were finally going on leave, a bittersweet escape from the whirlwind of the BAU. No one knew the true story of the baby's father, a secret that gnawed at your conscience with every passing day.

Spencer had been a constant source of support, his gentle nature a balm to the storm brewing inside you. You'd even discussed godparents, a picture-perfect tableau of the BAU family surrounding your child.

"So how are you feeling?" Hotch asked as you lumbered into the office, the weight of the baby making every step a conscious effort.

"Fat and tired, but okay," You replied, managing a weak smile.

"How much longer will you be with us?" he inquired.

"Just here to pick up some things, then I'm heading home," You explained.

"Did you drive yourself?" he asked, a furrow appearing in his brow.

"No, Spencer dropped me off," You replied, your stomach clenching at the thought of the conversation that loomed.

"Well, get him to drive your home, then tell him he can have the day off too," Hotch said with a rare smile.

"Thanks, Hotch. See you when I get back, I guess," You shrugged.

Gathering your belongings felt like an eternity, each familiar object a reminder of the life you were leaving behind, at least temporarily. Stepping back out into the crisp morning air, you found Spencer waiting by the car.

"Ready to go home?" You asked, the words heavy on your tongue.

"Let's get you settled in, then I'll get back to work," he replied, his voice neutral.

The ride home was a tense symphony of silence. Every stolen glance at Spencer revealed a growing distance, a hurt you understood all too well. You kept your eyes glued to the ever-expanding landscape, the weight of your secret threatening to crush you.

Reaching the house, you managed to drag a box inside before collapsing onto the couch, the familiar ache in your back a dull throb. Spencer entered a few moments later, placing a bowl of popcorn and two drinks on the coffee table before settling the DVD player.

"What are you doing?" You finally managed, surprised by the sudden break in the tension.

"Well, if we both have the day off, why not spend it together before the baby comes?" he offered, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips.

Relief flooded you, warm and welcome. "Good idea," You whispered, scooting across the couch to lean against him.

"There's something I've been wanting to talk about," You began, your voice barely above a whisper.

"What is it?" he asked, his gaze holding yours.

"It's about the baby's father," You confessed, bracing yourself for the storm that might follow.

"I thought I was the father," he said, his voice betraying a flicker of uncertainty.

"You were," you stammered, "but there's something you need to know..."

The words caught in your throat, the memory a bitter pill to swallow. Taking a deep breath, you blurted out, "There was someone else."

"I don't know," you choked out, tears welling in your eyes. "The night we were together, I...I had a little too much to drink, and then the next morning..." Your voice trailed off, unable to finish the sentence, the memory a blur of self-loathing.

Spencer stood abruptly, his entire body radiating anger and hurt. The air crackled with unspoken accusations. "So, you're saying the baby could be Morgan's?"

"I don't know," you repeated, tears spilling down your cheeks now. "The timing just…lines up with that night. But you're the one I wanted, Spencer. You're the one I..." Your voice broke, unable to express the depth of your feelings or the regret that gnawed at you.

He ran a hand through his hair, his frustration evident. You both knew the implications. The life you'd envisioned, the little family you were building – it all hung precariously in the balance.

He stood abruptly, his entire body radiating anger and hurt. "We need to get this figured out."

Relief warred with fear in your chest. At least he wasn't walking out. "I thought maybe a paternity test…"

"Yeah," he snapped, his voice tight. "Let's do it."

The drive to the clinic was a blur. Neither of you spoke, the unspoken questions hanging heavy in the air. The sterile atmosphere of the clinic did little to ease your anxiety. Spencer held your hand silently as the nurse drew blood, his grip tight enough to leave white marks on your skin.

"How long will it take to get the results?" Spencer finally asked, breaking the tense silence.

The nurse glanced at a chart on the wall. "Typically, paternity tests take about a week to come back," she explained. "We'll call you as soon as we have them."

A week. Seven days stretched before you, an agonizing limbo. The weight of the unknown settled in your chest, a leaden companion. Looking at Spencer, you saw a similar worry etched on his face.

"What are we going to do until then?" you asked, the question barely a whisper.

He squeezed your hand, a silent reassurance. "We wait," he said, his voice gruff but determined. "And we try to focus on the good news, no matter what the results are."

"The good news?" you echoed, a flicker of hope igniting in your chest.

He offered a strained smile. "That you're finally on maternity leave, and we have a little miracle on the way, one way or another."

The forced cheer in his voice couldn't quite mask the underlying tension. You both knew the good news could turn sour depending on the test results. But for now, you clung to that fragile hope, a lifeline in the storm of uncertainty.

The following days were a blur. The house felt suffocating, the silence punctuated only by the tick of the clock. Every ring of the phone sent your heart racing, only to plummet when it wasn't the clinic. Spencer tried to maintain a semblance of normalcy, even taking a rare day off work to keep you company.

One afternoon, while flipping through baby magazines, you stumbled upon a section on twins. Double the bottles, double the diapers, double the trouble. A nervous laugh escaped your lips. The possibility of twins, once a distant thought, now loomed large, a complication layered on top of the paternity question.

Looking up, you saw Spencer watching you, a flicker of amusement in his eyes. "Thinking about double trouble?" he asked.

You managed a weak smile. "The doctor mentioned it as a possibility, didn't she?"

He nodded, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "Maybe that explains why you've been so exhausted lately."

His words brought a faint blush to your cheeks. The exhaustion was real, but so was the constant worry gnawing at you. You both knew the weight of the wait, the unspoken fear that hung heavy in the air. But for now, in the face of uncertainty, you clung to the possibility of a future, a future with a baby, or maybe even two, on the way.

You'd watch movies, fold tiny baby clothes, and talk about nursery paint colours, all the while a dark cloud of uncertainty hung over you.

One afternoon, while attempting to assemble a ridiculously complicated crib (courtesy of Rossi's overenthusiastic gift-giving), the phone rang. Spencer, closer to the receiver, snatched it up with a speed that belied his usual composure.

"Hello?" he answered, his voice tight. A beat of silence followed, then a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Yes, this is SSA Spencer Reid. Yes, I've been expecting your call."

Your breath hitched in your throat. The crib parts clattered to the floor as you scrambled to his side, your gaze locked on his face. He listened intently, nodding occasionally, before finally murmuring, "Thank you. We'll be there shortly."

He hung up the phone, his eyes meeting yours. For a moment, they were a stormy gray, reflecting the turmoil within him. Then, a slow smile spread across his face, a smile that reached his eyes and banished the shadows.

"We need to get going," he said, his voice surprisingly calm.

"The results?" you stammered, your voice thick with anticipation.

He took your hand, his grip firm but gentle. "The good news, the bad news, or both? We'll find out at the clinic."

The car ride was a tense dance of silence and stolen glances. Your mind raced with possibilities; each one tinged with a sliver of fear. Would the results confirm your worst nightmare, shattering the fragile hope you'd built? Or would they clear the air, allowing you to move forward with a future you could finally embrace?

Pulling into the familiar parking lot of the clinic, you felt a wave of nausea wash over you. Spencer squeezed your hand reassuringly, his silent support the only anchor in the storm of emotions threatening to engulf you.

You walked into the clinic hand-in-hand, a united front despite the uncertainty gnawing at you. The receptionist, recognizing you, offered a sympathetic smile. "Dr. Lee will see you now," she said, her voice gentle.

Following the nurse down a sterile hallway, you entered the doctor's office. Dr. Lee, a woman with kind eyes and a calming demeanour, greeted you warmly. "Please, have a seat," she said, gesturing towards two chairs in front of her desk.

You sat, the silence deafening. Dr. Lee placed a file on the desk and took a deep breath. "I'm happy to report that we have the results of your paternity test, Mr. Reid. Okay, so do you want the good news or the bad news first?" the doctor asked, a small smile playing on her lips.

"The good news," you squeaked out, your voice barely audible.

"Spencer's the father," the doctor announced with a warm smile.

A wave of relief washed over you, so intense it almost knocked you off your feet. Spencer, however, remained silent, his expression unreadable.

"And the bad news?" he finally inquired; his voice low.

"It's twins," the doctor replied, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Your jaw dropped. Twins? That would explain the constant exhaustion and the way your clothes seemed to be shrinking daily. Looking at Spencer, you saw a mixture of shock and a hint of amusement flicker across his face.

"Well, that explains a lot," you finally managed, a shaky laugh escaping your lips.

"Double trouble," the doctor chuckled, her eyes twinkling.

Spencer chuckled too; the sound rough around the edges. Then, in a gesture that surprised you, he reached out and took your hand in his. "You got that right," he said, a newfound determination in his voice. "We can do this, together."

Leaving the clinic, hand in hand, the weight of the secret lifted. You were the happy (albeit slightly terrified) parents of twins, a future both daunting and exhilarating. There was still a lot to work through, the memory of Morgan a lingering shadow. But for now, the knowledge that Spencer was by your side, ready to face whatever came, was all the comfort you needed.

[dateamonster]

My vampire ex-boyfriend is stalking me. This is not an unusual occurrence. Even when we were still dating he was always doing this, he just used to be more obvious about it because if I called him out he already had a line locked and loaded about how he was only looking out for me. And sure, I'll admit that I've had more than the average number of near-death experiences for a seventeen year old, but at the risk of rehashing old arguments, a lot of that could've been avoided if he'd just turned me the first time I asked.

I've broken things off with my vampire ex-boyfriend a couple times before, usually for about the same reasons, but this time it's different. I think he's noticed it too. I'm not grieving anymore, not holing myself up in my room listening to sad music watching every gray day pass me by. I've talked to my friends, then to my dad, and they're on my side. My dad took a little longer to come around, but it helped that his best friend's son went through the same thing. It's good to have people around who want to support me, not just protect me.

My vampire ex-boyfriend didn't want me to be a vampire like him. He didn't want me to have sex, with him or anyone else. He didn't want me to go out with my friends without him there, but he also didn't want to come along. He didn't want me to go out after dark. He didn't want me to cut my hair. But he liked me, he really liked me. He liked that I didn't ever show much skin even in the summer. He liked that I didn't have any real hobbies or passions so that he could be the one to introduce me to music and fine art and literature. He liked that I kept my innermost thoughts so buried that they were a secret even to me.

I don't know for sure if I want to be a vampire anymore. I think I might, or at the very least I want to keep my options open, but it doesn't feel as urgent now that I know there are other ways to change myself. I used to think I needed it to be close to him. He was so beautiful, is so beautiful. My vampire ex-boyfriend, with his serious, brooding stare and his model chin and his body carved from the center of a pale diamond, his chiseled angles sharp enough to cut with just a glance. And then me beside him, with my long mousy hair and my fragile frame hidden beneath overlarge shirts and jeans when even a knee-length skirt made me feel too exposed. For all his sanguineous habits, I was the parasite, and he was the genuine article, and maybe that's why it hurt so much to have him reject me again and again. All I ever wanted was to burrow into his colorless skin, to feel what it was like to be strong and unyielding. My vampire ex-boyfriend hated his perfect body. He waxed poetic about my warmth, my softness. Maybe we were more alike than I thought in the end.

I load my old pickup truck full of lumber and nails and feel pleased by how much easier it is now that I've started to put on a little muscle. Working with my hands makes me feel more grounded in my body, so dad's enlisted my help in some of his DIY projects around the house. My collection of bandages is growing, from splinters and slips and the occasional dropped hammer, but my coordination grows a fraction less abysmal each day, and if I spill blood there's no one there to wince and whine about it.

I put a lock on my bedroom window. I pin photographs to my wall documenting my changes from month to month. Dad shows me how to shave without cutting myself, despite my insistence that if I could figure out my legs I can figure out my face. I smile more days than I don't. I still turn my head in the same direction when I hear a loud crack from beyond the treeline that's not quite thunder. I still visit his family, when he's not around. In another life I know his parents would've treated me like one of their own.

Just as I'm climbing into the driver's seat I hear a voice from the shadows, whispering the name of a stranger. I drive away. I've got no more interest in raising the dead.

[oh-no-its-dragons]

Dead Dove

So over on the RQ server we were talking about dead!Xaden fics and @sarcasticmothwrites mentioned that you can't write a dead!Violet fic from Xaden's POV because of the chain reaction.

And the plotbunnies apparently decided to take that as a personal challenge.

Warning: Dead Dove, Do Not Eat

I feel it when Sgaeyl's life spills out, soaking back into the Source.

It begins with a pounding in my chest, and the sensation of claws around my heart. The daylight turns solid black around me, shadows forming a wall without even needing a command. For a moment I think it's one of those fucking Sages trying to teach me respect again, and I start to throw up my shields.

That's when I realize where it's coming from. The navy blue night sky of Sgaeyl's presence on my hill as if she'd never left, as if I'm not standing on barren earth here now where I used to let her power and her love wash through me.

She'd banished me, but she'd never completely severed our bond.

I wonder what could make her reach out now and when I see the stars falling in her sky I know. She's dying.

The wrench in my gut when I realize she's dying and I won't die with her is harsher than would have expected. It's been years, years of loneliness, of dragging myself up through the venin ranks, learning their secrets and leaving them for the rebellion to find-

For Violet to find-

Oh gods, Violet. If Sgaeyl is dying, then Tairn is going with her to whomeever takes the souls of dragons, and Violet…

There's no way for me to know which part of their bond was reason for it, whether Violet's already gone or taking her last breaths against Tairn's bloodblack scales. The scar on my chest burns, my scarred and faded relic burns, my own breath burns in my chest.

I should be dying with them, Violet in my arms or my hands on Sgaeyl's side. If I was a better man, I would be dying with them, or maybe if I was there I would have saved them.

Instead I'm alone here, wrapping myself in layer after layer of shadow like the blankets I hid in when my mother left, as if I have any right to be upset. As if I have any right to grief or regret after everything I've done.

In my mind, on my hill, the stars have gone out of the night sky now. The dark blue fades lighter and lighter until it's gone, replaced with the parched, bone-white sky that's all I ever see now. Dead sky and dead earth, and me standing here wondering if maybe I've been dead the whole time.

I am realizing just how much the knowledge that Violet was out there, still fighting, kept me tethered to my sanity. I haven't let myself think about it, but now my walls are broken and every feeling I put away in the last three years rushes in. Has Bodhi forgiven me for leaving the burden of the rebellion to him? Have Garrick and Imogen finally gotten around to talking to each other? Has Sloane been able to come out of her brother's shadow?

Are they still alive?

Do I deserve to know if they are?

No, not yet. I've played at this, but I haven't done enough. I stand up and the shadows around me retreat.

I stare at the back of my hand, where black veins snake under my skin and disappear into the whorls of my rebellion relic. My heart never let go of Violet or Sgaeyl, but the rebellion had been my family. It's time to take this fucking seriously.

Back on my hill, I plant my feet on the dead ground and send myself as deep as I can go into the ground. Sgaeyl returned to the Source. Tairn went with her, and a part of Violet would have stayed with him, I'm sure, no matter what Malek tried to make her do. Fallen stars. The inkpot sky on Winter Solstice the first year after Threshing when Sgaeyl took me back to Aretia, hours on her back feeling her breathing and the cycle of energy between us. I know this. I know her. And she reached out to me at the end, so maybe I can even believe she wanted me to do this.

I pull, and I hear her clear as the last words she said to me, "I chose you!" She did. She chose me. She told me I was ruthless, and relentless, and she liked that. She had given me such a gift.

That gift is still mine, the last lifeline. I feel her warmth in my veins, flowing upward. I can almost, almost feel her breath on me as it reaches my heart and mixes with everything else I've taken, everything I've carried, and begins to flow into the rest of me.

I pull and there's more, there's so much, there was always so much and I'm no longer afraid of burning out. I can carry all of her, because that's all that's left, and I feel the burn that Tairn's energy had always felt like at the corner of my hill, like when I snuck into my father's good liquor cabinet as a kid. When I recognize it I drink it in like a drowning man because I know, I know-

Ozone and hope flash through me and I can feel her hands in my hair. Her lips on my neck. I can hold Sgaeyl and I can hold Tairn but somehow my Violence is the one who's always been too much. I shatter, my awareness ghosting through what feels like every shadow on the continent.

Every venin I can find is torn apart by their own shadow. We're hard to kill but not immortal, not when reduced to shredded, rotten meat. I feel the shadows of running feet, of dragons wheeling mid-air to change tactics, the obliteration of shadows that disappear in fire.

I come back to myself choking for air, and somehow, impossibly, Violet is holding me. I only feel the fever when her hands are cool on my cheeks, and I wait for something awful, something I know I deserve.

"Say something," I manage to get out.

"Come home."

So I do.

[hoseokspudding]

  ˖ ৎ୭ ॱ ₊ . * Starburst

𓂂 ࿐ ۫ ִ ⸼ Synopsis: You, as the girlfriend of Korea's top actor, began to suspect him of cheating when you discovered a text from a mysterious woman and that he's coming home late and not paying attention to you.

Characters: Zen from Mystic Messenger

Parrings: Zen x Jealous blackfem reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort Nsfw

Word count: 2k

Warnings: Afab reader, unprotected sex, cussing, angst, nipple play, cream pie, pet names, make up sex, soft, tummy bulge, gentle, jealousy, suspecting of cheating, mentions of slight racism

｡ﾟ♡ ˖ ࣪ ୧ ｡: Author's notes:

WOAH DEE ACTUALLY WROTE SOMETHING?! IS HELL FREEZING OVER?!

Eek! Hello everyone this is my first fic here on Tumblr and my first NSFW fic I ever wrote ʕ⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴥ⁠ꈍ⁠ʔ. I hope that I did a great job and met everyone's expectations. I really want to thank @dejwrites for inspiring me to come back to writing and giving me tips as well. I want to thank @hachikosworld for giving me advice as well.

It been a long time coming but I just want to thank all my moots and new friends for being so patient with me. This community is so friendly and I'm excited to continue writing and creating new friends along the way. Anyways I hope you guys enjoyed it. I really tried my best and I hope it shows (⁠*⁠˘⁠︶⁠˘⁠*⁠)⁠.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡

Also feel free to message me and inbox me. I really want to make friends and share headcanons and all my silly ideas with everyone in the community.

NO MINORS ALLOWED

"You know what? I'm done!"

You stormed out of your and your boyfriend's apartment after arguing with him about how he is always late from work and barely spends time with you. Not to mention that you discovered a suspicious text from a woman on his phone while sitting on the couch earlier that day, leading you to suspect him of cheating.

It wasn't always like this at first. When you two first met it was the summer of your first semester, studying abroad in Korea where you met the now infamous Zen. You bumped into him while grabbing some coffee from the local convenience store and while holding the cup in your hand, you accidentally bumped your coffee against the male spilling it all over the long haired male. Things began to blossom for the both of you and as a compromise he asked you for your phone number, and then eventually a date.

Hyun was a very unknown actor when you two first started dating, and you stood by him, supporting him anytime he had any qualms about making it into the business or, more specifically, about getting any roles. Fortunately, things would turn around when he finally earned a leading role in a drama. You were really delighted and encouraging of him. However, because of his breakthrough performance, he became overloaded with work and kept busy, which meant that you and him were able to spend less and less time together.

It was difficult to see Hyun surrounded by beautiful women all day, every day. You went insane at the thought of them touching or even talking to him; you craved his touch to be yours alone. People knew Hyun as Zen, his stage name, and as prince charming, but the public would never know about the Zen you knew; the one who would die for you, the same one who would have you pinned up against the door, kissing you all over.

Zen's heart broke into a million pieces; he couldn't believe the girl he adored would suspect him of cheating on her. He was aware that the acting life could be demanding, with him required to make television appearances, award shows, and weekly appearances on an idol show. "(Y/n) dear," he said, looking down at you with his crimson red eyes, "I know I've been extremely busy with life, but I genuinely care about you dear. I know the press can be very intrusive, and it's difficult to keep us a secret–" you snapped again, "that's the thing, Hyun!" You addressed him by his given name rather than his stage name. "I'm sick of it."

"I'm sick of hiding, and it doesn't even feel like we're dating. We can't go out without you wearing some shitty outfit to disguise yourself or coming home late and immediately going to bed because you've been so busy. I'd like to know how my boyfriend is doing whenever he comes home." You were visibly upset with Zen to the point where tears started streaming down your cheeks. You were tired of his empty promises that he would make it up to you whenever he was too busy with work. Even though Zen would lavish you with designer purses, flowers, and even fund your shopping sprees, you still wanted your boyfriend to be there, right?

Your heart ached for him, especially at night when you wanted to cuddle and be held by him all night.

You were tired of not seeing him in the morning while he'd disappear all day without texting you for days. You yearned for the time before he became famous and it was just the two of you; yes, you were poorer back then, but you made it work.

Zen felt terrible for the way he had been treating his partner and for letting you go through this. He believed that by hiding your relationship from the public, he was shielding you from any negative attention he would face for dating in the godforsaken industry. Out of all the professions he could've went into he had to be an actor? He was also aware that he would face prejudice for dating a black woman, and he didn't want you to encounter any racism from his supporters, neighbors, or online users.

Zen was doing his best to decipher the situation as you were outside your shared home and he didn't want to draw unnecessary attention to himself, but he was concerned about you and your feelings.

He began to speak with his smooth, buttery voice. "You may not want to hear this, but I apologize. I didn't think about your feelings at all. You must have been lonely all day while I was at work. I know it's a lame excuse, but I'm genuinely tired when I get home from the set," he began.

You stood there in silence, listening to his explanation for why he was always canceling your plans and spending less time with you. You faced him with your hands on your hips. You also hoped he explained about that girl.

"This new project has been mentally and physically draining, but that doesn't give me the right to abandon you like that. You know how much I adore and care for you, and I would hate for this to tear us apart." He looked at you sympathetically and slowly approached you, grabbing your hands. He stared at your eyes, making sure you knew how sincere he was.

"The girl in my phone is actually a screenwriter trying to pitch a show to Netflix and asked if I wanted to be a part of the plot. I met her on the show I'm known for." You blushed in embarrassment, feeling childish for jumping to conclusions and not trusting your boyfriend.

You puffed up your cheeks, refusing to admit you were mistaken. Zen simply smiled reassuringly. "I don't blame you, princess; I'm surrounded by women all day, and it must be exhausting to think about it. I would have been jealous if you were constantly surrounded by men. I don't give a rat's ass about them because you're the only girl I have my heart set on. To me, you're the most beautiful girl in the entire fucking world. Princess, I love seeing you smile."

"It's simply that I want the rest of the world to know that I exist and that you are mine. I despise seeing you on television with these bitches when it should be me and you "You began to cry out of frustration, but you felt relieved knowing that he listened to you and understood how hurt you were.

Zen slowly embraced you in a hug, allowing you to cry out for him. In all honesty, he didn't know what to say. He wanted the world to know you existed as well and that you guys will be able to spend time with him in public free to do whatever you wanted, but he was well aware of the risks involved. However, he needs to think of something quick before he loses you.

"Please smile for me princess, I really enjoy seeing you smile," he said as he wiped your tears from your now puffy cheeks with his thumbs. "I'll figure it out, okay?"

"Please allow me to make it up to you." He took your hand in his and began walking back inside the house. You were well aware of what that meant for the two of you. You couldn't help but be moved by what Hyun said; he wasn't the type to make empty promises, so when he said he'd figure it out, he meant it. Not to mention how much you missed him and craved his attention and love.

He picked you up and carried you to your guy's bedroom, where the two of you would occasionally make love when Zen wasn't too busy. You held him tightly and let out another smile. He carefully placed you on the bed, taking care not to injure you. He then sat next to you, admiring your beauty.

"Everything will be fine," Zen assures you as he kisses your neck and holds your soft, moisturized, delicate hands. He worked his way around your neck, sucking and pulling at the napes of your brown skin.

He began to roam your body with his free hand, groping your breasts through the shirt you were wearing, feeling your bra holding your breast for dear life. He was so passionate with the way he touched you that you moaned softly. You'd think that with his stature, he'd be harsh, but instead he touches you with loving and passionate hands. He yanked on your shirt and started removing it, then slowly removed your bra, exposing your breast, which perked nicely for him. He started sucking on your tits.

He began by swirling his tongue against the buds of your nipples, then sucking and gently messaging the other breast with his free hand. You moaned again, his veiny and massive hands feeling amazing as he continued to fondle your breast.

After leaving hickeys on your massive tits, he made his way to your neck. He made his way to your lips, leaving a trail of love marks on your neck. As he hungrily kissed you, he couldn't deny how much he missed those plumped lips of yours and how those plumped lips of yours would be stained with gloss that would later end up at the base of his cock.

Zen couldn't help but become greedy; it was as if Zen hadn't drunk water in years and had finally gotten a chance to. He took a step back to examine you, which you were already a mess due to the constant attack on your neck. Your core couldn't help but become saturated with your juices, which oozed like honey from your cunt.

"Awe, I've been far away from my bunny for too long that she hasn't been taking care of," he smirked, before slowly removing his clothes as well. It was impossible not to notice the tint rising from his pants. Zen gently slapped your hand as you reached out to him "No, it's my turn to please you. You waited far too long" He then removed his boxers, revealing his cock, which was surrounded by a bush of white hair. He then untied his ponytail and let his long white hair fall down.

Zen slowly removed your short skirt, and seeing the dampness forming on your panties turned him on even more. He started rubbing the fabric of your panties, causing you to throw your head back and moan. He smiled and kept pressing his digits against you, enjoying how your panties got wetter and wetter with each press. He then pushed your lacy white panties to the side and slid a finger inside you, preparing you for his member. "How long has it been since I've last played in your pussy, eh? It's so lovely and juicy, and it's only for me."

You couldn't help but curl your toes and moan as he reached places you'd never be able to reach with your hands. Zen craved more of your moans because they were so addicting. "Please H-Hyun...I want more," you begged him. "Whatever my princess wants, she gets." Oh, how you missed Hyun, not Zen, the guy you fell in love with, the guy who was so in love with you that he was pussy whipped by everything you did.

He grew tired of using his fingers after a while. Zen got on his knees, gripped your thighs, and began licking your wet region, making slurping sounds as he hungrily sucked your clit as he craved to taste your juices and hear your voice desperately call out to him. You whimpered and whined for him as his tongue maneuvered every inch of you, exploring every crease. You couldn't stop yourself from grabbing his long silky white hair and calling out for him. "Z-zenny soo good," your voice would trail off as you moaned his name. You threw your head back and moaned once more.

Fuck. He was in desperate need of you. He craved you more than his cigarettes, and he desperately wanted to be inside of you, reclaiming you, reminding you that he still loves and cares for you. He wanted you to scream his name into the sky and let everyone know that you belong to him, even if he's busy with work.

He stepped away from you and licked his lips; he began catching his breath, allowing you to do the same. After a few seconds, he began to position himself near you, bending down to kiss your neck as he slowly began to slide himself into you. You began to grunt, remembering how good his cock felt inside of you. You yelped and bucked your hips slightly, feeling the pleasure return to you.

He gave you a moment to adjust yourself, knowing you hadn't done anything in a long time. "I'm ready now," you said, giving him permission to begin. Hyun then began to pump inside of you, drilling the inside of you with each pump. He drew you in closer and continued to plow your insides, his hips digging into yours. You immediately grabbed his arms and cried out to him, desperate. God, you missed it, the way he would passionately fuck your brains out.

Your brows knitted up as he began to burry his cock inside of you. With each stroke he made, the sheets of the mattress began to bundle up as you held on for dear life. Giving you deep and slow strokes at first so you could feel how much he loves you. Hyun quickly abandoned that, however, as he became desperate for you.

Hearing you moan and groan his name was so addicting. Your body wasn't helping him either, as your pussy started making gushy sounds due to how wet it was. He was feeling so good that he couldn't help but make elegant sounds himself. As he continued to probe your insides, his face turned bright red.

He knelt down and kissed your lips, sucking the bottom of your lips and letting out a couple of moans that sent vibrations against you.

You started touching his nice chiseled body all over, running your soft hands all around his chest, feeling each peck. You had always admired his gym physique. He was always going to the gym in his spare time and when he wasn't spending time with you. You smiled through the entire kiss, enjoying how he still kisses you so beautifully as he drilled into your wet sticky core.

He pushed your legs against your head without warning. You looked at him, completely dazed by the fact that he was now fucking you deeper than before, reaching into places and repeatedly hitting your g-spot. You yelped as a rush of pleasure washed over you. You dug your manicured nails into his skin, "Hyun! P-please," you said as his pumps increased in speed.

His cock was so deep inside you that you could see it poking around in your stomach. His manhood was constantly striking your cervix, intensifying your pleas for him.

Zen grinned as he looked down at you, seeing how messed up you were beneath him. "Did my baby miss getting fucked like this?" he asked. You blushed and shook your head yes.

More and more pleasant sounds escaped your pretty lips as Zen continued to pump his girth into you. As you approached your climax, your stomach began to twist and turn into knots. "F-fuck" was all you could say at this point. "I'm going to c-cum," you moaned. Zen's voice twitched as he neared his climax. He grunted and moaned a few times. "I-I'm close behind you," his breath became shaky as he desperately wanted to fill your void with his cum.

You let out a yell as you came, and Zen, after a few pumps, had also reached his climax as well. He drew away from you and began catching his breath; he was drenched in sweat that trickled down his body. You were soaked in sweat, and your make-up was practically ruined by dried tears on your cheeks and smeared mascara.

"Want another round, eh?" He stated this while looking down at you. Zen pushed his hair back away from his face, allowing you to really take in his beauty. You couldn't help but fall in love with him all over again. You laughed softly and drew yourself onto him, anticipating what the night would bring the two of you.

Thanks for reading! Reblogs Likes, Shares and comments are greatly appreciated ฅ⁠^⁠•⁠ﻌ⁠•⁠^⁠ฅ

Tags: @zhenzhenist @dejwrites @hachikosworld @iin0va @sailewhoremoon

© Hoseokspudding 2023 all rights reserved. my work is not to be stolen, translated, reposted or copied.

[protagonistheavy]

I've been watching Invincible and keep meaning to talk more about it, but I never have a whole lot of nice things to say lol. It's not a terrible show but for everything it does right regarding a superhero story, there's some other pitfall it goes head-first into.

There's this collection of plot holes I've been noticing that really grind me up. Maybe not even full-fledged "plot holes" but conveniences in writing that really make me roll my eyes. I think the number one thing that bugs me is the handling of secret identities in this show, which is played soooo fucking loose for a show that's trying to take every other superhero trope extremely seriously. I was genuinely confused by the time it was 100% confirmed that Omni-man's identity is actually kept secret because for so long it feels like the show just plays it out like "oh yeah everyone knows Nolan is Omni-man, they just know they can't fuck with him" or something. I mean there's so much shit Nolan and Mark do that would make somebody wonder, "hey aren't those fucking superheroes? aren't those the fucking superheroes?"

Maybe I was made especially confused by the first episode, where it seemed implied that William knew about Mark's superhero parent, which would then imply that most people know of their relationship. Additionally, Nolan does nothing to disguise himself, and it just bugs me so much because like, how would you not identify him...??? especially if you were, say, a super villain that wants to hunt him down or track him??? It feels just wrong that no one in this neighborhood knows that the guy next door flying in the sky and making craters in the street and getting his house repaired every day is fucking Omni-man.

the show tries to handwave it with Atom Eve when she mentions her secret identity, and how it's a matter of "no one would ever guess someone's a superhero." But that handwave does NOT do enough work waving like that. I mean for god's sake, her name is Atom EVE!!! And she's not wearing ANYTHING to conceal herself! I mean fuck at least Mark wears goggles, but Eve is running around using her normal fucking name. In fact why the hell are so many heroes just named after them fucking selves? Rex-plode? Dupli-kate? Shrinking Rae? How the hell does no one know these identities??? Urghhh!!

And it wouldn't piss me off so much if this show wasn't trying to be so damn serious about every other superhero trope. It stands out sooo badly, it makes a lot of the "civilian" scenes of the story feel awkward.

Then there's just other careless writing bits that sting me. the big one off the top of my head is from the beginning of the show, when Nolan demands the hospital staff return his damaged costume. Are you... fucking kidding me? The entire WORLD is wondering who killed the Guardians, there's a plot-wide investigation going on to figure out what exactly happened, Cecil clearly busts out every stop for the sake of this investigation............ but NO ONE THOUGHT TO INSPECT HIS COSTUME? No one thought "oooh it'd be a good idea do an analysis on this EVIDENCE, see if there's anything suspicious" -- not any one of these government agents think of that, but a fucking TAILOR does his own detective work overnight and comes up with all the damning information. Are you fucking serious?? And let's be real, it's so fucking stupid that the costume has been kept at all! Why the fuck did Nolan take his bloodied, guilty costume just so he can put it in a trash bag and hide it on the china cabinet? Why didn't he just take it to a volcano and burn it away??? He's a fucking superman and he couldn't hide evidence any better than this??????

And the violence, god it's gratuitous. there's only so few moments where the gore actually contributes to something meaningful. More often than not, it's there as a form of porn, guts spilling out needlessly, civilians shown dying in terribly graphic ways, a gallon of blood per punch. It so doesn't need to be like this, it's needless grittiness for a show that half the time doesn't take itself much more seriously than a hard Ben 10 episode. I get when the violence helps establish grim realities of a superhero situation, but there's very much a point where the production is just having fun exploding bodies and trying to gross you out. Bleh.

It's mostly a good show but I'm once again disappointed that a superhero media doesn't really deconstruct the themes I've been wanting a superhero media to deconstruct. It does a better job than, say, My Hero Academia lmao, but it's not what I'm looking for, and I feel Invincible has been overhyped simply because it's a superhero media that isn't SO boring/generic that it does deserve, at least, some recognition.

[softersinned-arc]

Astoria worries her lower lip between her teeth for a long, tense moment, before she speaks again. "Sweetheart," she says, voice soft and careful, "just because someone else said it doesn't make it right, and it doesn't mean it was okay." Before she can talk herself out of it, she edges forward, and there's something almost tender in her tone. She feels, for a moment, like she's speaking to a younger version of herself, and the words come spilling out almost without her permission, as though she'll go insane if she doesn't say it.

"I was fourteen, when it started, and fifteen the first time he laid a hand on me. He was family, and he and his sister were my guardians at the time, and it started small. Backhanding me when I talked back. Grabbing me by the hair when I looked away from something I had to see. Then it got bigger, and worse, and I don't want to get into all of it but every time I asked his sister for help she told me that he wouldn't have to punish me if I did it right the first time, and how lucky I was that somebody cared enough to fix me, and over and over again. They did what they had to do because they loved me and wanted better for me—that was their big line. And it went on for years.

"I don't want sympathy, and I don't want people knowing. Jax does; Gemma and Clay, because Clay needed to know what kind of baggage I brought to the club and Gemma because I won't ask him to keep a secret from his wife; Hale knows; and Chibs, now that the rest of them are locked up. And now you. Jax kept it quiet because I asked him to. It's what had me running in the first place: one of them came back and found me." Well, it's most of the story. They can get to the finer details another time.

"Point is—just because they said it doesn't make it true. Easier said than believed, I know, but believing them, it doesn't last forever. Even when it feels like your entire brain got rewired, and like you can't trust anyone who loves you without hurting you because that's what you were told love is—it doesn't last forever. And the way you get better at letting people love you is by practicing it, even if you don't always know how that's going to work. But for what it's worth, I think she's worth the risk. I've seen how she looks at you. And I think she'll get it, if you don't always know how to let her care about you. There's this—habit she has. Ever notice how she stands between your kids and a loud noise, even when she's rattled? That's a woman who knows how to read a room for threats. She's seen some shit." She shrugs one shoulder. "And I think she really sees you. You like her, right? Invite her to dinner. The Sons are a family and that means that we're your family, whenever you're ready for it."

for a moment, or maybe more, opie's lost in the land of possibilities. what would his life be life if donna weren't stressed to the point she was. what would his relationship with everyone look like with his kids if they had something like the journal astoria was creating for abel? all those pictures? all those weekly visitations so he could sit there and let his children know they were loved even if he couldn't be there with them every day.

on vaguely does he recognize the shift in astoria; the way she sits and the tension in her muscles. for reasons he doesn't understand it makes his own start to bunch up at the shoulders, until there's a burn at the base of his neck. under normal circumstances he'd be braced but he's also never had that kind of reaction to astoria. it happened more often with mj, even if he didn't understand why or why he was left more confused when something didn't happen. although, now that he was thinking about it, he also never felt that way around gemma. well, not unless she was shouting at someone.

not liking the train of thought he was falling down, opie looks down at his hands. there's still a slight discoloration on his ring finger that he hones in on. " i mean, it was stuff i was already hearing from my mom. she was slinging anything new, " came one shrug of the shoulder. " given how uncomfortable astoria looked the biker didn't bother to mention the kinds of things that came out of his mother's mouth; how often she called him a piece or shit. or how often she called piney worthless.

mj on the other hand? was a whole different thing altogether. opie didn't know what to make of how she made him feel. uncomfortable, for sure. beneath all of that she made him incredibly happy. " she lights up a room, you know? watching the way she gets excited over things just... i dunno. but she doesn't react the way i expect her to and it throws me off. i don't... " not liking it was a bit strong. it was better to say he had no idea how to prepare for any of their interactions. " i never thought i'd be into someone who talked about conspiracy theories or politics. but she lights up like a christmas tree. " before he realizes it, the biker's smiling at the memory of their last conversation. " and it's not like she's staying around. as soon as her job's done she's gone. no real point in getting attached. "

[muddyorbsblr]

secret notes part 8: send me the moon 

Series Masterlist See my full list of works here!

Summary: It's your final live show as The Lonely Avenger and the whole team is there to finally see the one behind the voice. Including Loki.

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: 2 curse words; other than that, nothing…this is a fluffy story with a fluffy ending [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: the last scene's a little hot…like 0.5/5 spicy

"Could you two drop me off near Groove instead of at the Tower?" you asked Clint as you were on your way back to New York, the mission going off without much complication, or bloodshed. You left those guards still breathing, after all, so really there were no casualties on this mission, and as far as you were concerned, that was an absolute win.

"Does this have something to do with the invite that was forwarded to me while you were in their base?" he asked you, a smirk playing on his face. "You wanna get the jump on everyone else, finding out who Laufeyson's bird is before we even get there? Vet the girl, make sure that she's good enough for Mr Horns?" 

"Not exactly," you answered with a smirk of your own. "More like I have to do sound checks. For my live show." That made him slam his hand on the Autopilot button and stare at you with eyes as wide as saucers, making Natasha laugh from her co-pilot seat. "Surprise, Hawkeye. It's me. I'm the bird. Caw caw." 

"How did I not see that coming?" He eyed Natasha, who you had no doubt was smirking and snickering to herself. "I'm assuming you already knew about this, Tasha?" 

"I've known for months," she said casually. "Wanda and I watched her first live show. Morgan knows, too."

"Hold on how'd you get Morgan to not tell Tony?!" You mumbled Natasha's promise to the tiny Stark that kept her from spilling your secret. "Sorry, birdy, what was that?" 

"Nat promised her that she'd be the flower girl at the wedding," you enunciated every syllable, making him chuckle. "Oh, and by the way. Thor knows, too." She turned her now wide eyed gaze towards you. "He baited me with a singing meme and I was caught off guard. I suppose by now he knows that I intend to tell everyone anyway so I'm trusting that he's keeping his mouth shut around Mischief." 

"Aww, babes, it's really happening, huh?" She grabbed your hand and lightly swung it. "It's like the end of an era." 

"Yeah. By the end of the day there'll be egg on my face because Loki's finally gonna know how stupid in love I am with him, and that's it. That's the end of me." 

"At the risk of you stabbing me, Y/N, I gotta say it. I think you're an idiot if you actually believe that things would end badly if Horns knows how you feel about him. I saw you two before you boarded the Quinjet; that's a man in love. God. That's a god in love. Whatever happens in the live show, I'd put money on all this ending with you singing a whole new set of notes in his apartment that none of us ever want to hear. I don't think even Tony has the money to cover the therapy we'd need if we hear that." 

You smacked him upside the back of his head. "Dork." He gave you a shrug as if to say eh, you're not wrong, which made you chuckle. "Just drop me off near Groove, please." You placed a hand on Nat's shoulder. "And please make sure that he actually goes to the live show? If I'm going to rip off a bandaid, I'd prefer to rip it all the way off in one move." 

"I'll have Thor drag him out if I have to," she promised, placing her hand over yours. "Don't look so nervous, babes. Everything's gonna be fine. More than fine." She tilted her head to address Clint. "We should probably all stay out of the tower for a few hours once they exit the bar. You know, so we don't have to charge Stark's account for therapy." 

By the time that Natasha and Clint returned to the Tower, the team was already buzzing with bets on who it could be, most of them already gathered around the common area clearly dressed for a party. The Russian spy  made a beeline for Wanda, looking like a Christmas ornament in her sparkly red dress. 

"Anyone on to our girl?" she whispered to the sorceress.

"Just Thor…he's been hinting at it since Tony found the invite." 

"That's because Thor knows. Baited Y/N with a meme the morning before we left. Anyone else?" 

"I think Rhodey knows, too. But he's been suspicious since before the first live show, so I can't be too sure. You two should go get changed, we're just waiting for--"

"Ah, there he is! Brother! Are you excited to finally know the identity of your lark?" 

Natasha looked at the stairs, her eyes widening once she'd seen the effort that Loki put into his look for your show, wearing a form-fitting dress shirt set in his "old faithful" shade of green tucked into tight slacks that had her questioning if he would be able to even sit down without ripping open a seam, and a pair of black Oxfords. It was obvious that he spent a considerable amount of time on his hair, too, styled in a half bun that had a few loose tendrils framing his face, trying to look effortless but anyone who knew how much effort that really took knew that he spent at least 20 minutes trying to get that down right, even with his magic.

He looked over to where she and Clint were standing, his gaze searching for someone clearly absent. "Where's Y/N?" 

Natasha defaulted to her classic excuse for you. "Had to run an errand." He nodded at the answer, a small smile tugging at the side of his mouth. "Said she'll meet us at Groove instead." 

Another twenty minutes later and they were on their way to the bar, already filled to the brim with people buzzing about your identity as the unmistakable sound of your voice overflowed out of the bar and well into the queue of people hoping to be let inside. 

Once Natasha and Wanda walked up to the door, the guards let them through, along with the rest of the team, and they were all escorted toward the front of the stage, where they waved at the sight of you on stage, wearing an off-shoulder little black dress that fell just short of mid-thigh and strappy gold heels. 

"WOOOO LET'S GO Y/N!!" Sam shouted as he made his way through the crowd, making you chuckle in the middle of your song. "That's my friend right there!" he hollered as he clapped his hands, causing the rest of the crowd to clap along with him.

"I'll wait for the day when we finally say now or never Until then I'll be here wanting more as I settle for atmosphere" 

As you began the final chorus of Send Me the Moon by Sara Bareilles, you noticed that nearly all of the team already sat in the area you had reserved for them, noting some of them trying to covertly pass around the money that they lost when they were placing bets on your identity all those months ago. 

Surprisingly, the money was split between Sam and Bucky. 

You shook your head slightly at their antics and returned your focus to the rest of the crowd, your roaming gaze stopping short at the sight of Loki two feet away from the stage, looking up at you with such a venerational relief in his eyes it nearly made your knees buckle. 

As you finished the song, and you took in the applause, and the standing ovation from your team along with the wolf whistles from your girl friends, a smile began to grace his features as he mouthed, "It's you." 

You could feel a tugging at your heart, as if your world was about to crumble, but you no longer cared. Whatever happened, even if everything were to fall apart at your feet today, you'd be fine. You'd rebuild from whatever you had left. Your experiment was done, the resolution from the beginning of the year a hilarious failure. And yet, you knew in your heart that you could recover from this.

It was that resolve that had you returning his smile with one of your own, a bit more somber, as if you'd come to make peace with an impending loss. "It's me," you mouthed back.

As the applause faded, you looked into the audience once more and spoke into the mic. "Hi. I'm Y/N Y/L/N. And this will be the last song I sing as The Lonely Avenger." 

"What's gonna happen to your channel?" Sam's voice boomed from the crowd.

You shrugged in your team's direction. "I suppose I'm just gonna change it to my name. Can't exactly be anonymous anymore," you answered with a chuckle. "Maybe I'll do some drunk challenges with Nat and Wanda." 

"THAT'S OUR GIRL!!" Wanda chirped up from her seat, making you giggle at her enthusiasm. 

"Anyways…" You raised your iced tea perched on a stool nearby toward the crowd. "To The Lonely Avenger." 

Most of the crowd raised their glasses and repeated your sentiment. You heard Tony shout "to jellybean", while the rest of the team shouted "to Y/N". What had you confused was Thor's sentiment, as his distinct voice rang louder than the buzzing of the audience. "To my sister." 

You turned your gaze to the band and they began to play out your final song: "Tell Me" by He Is We.

"Take a video, Wan. We'll wanna go back to this moment one day," Natasha instructed the sorceress. She quickly took out her phone and began recording you singing your final song as the anonymous Lonely Avenger, switching the camera's focus back and forth between you on the mic and Loki's reactions to your performance.

"Eyes can only see so far Tired of wishing on Northern Stars So I close my eyes and pray Nothing comes to mind so I let my heart say Tell me don't give up…"

As you finished the song, Wanda made a motion to turn off the video but Nat's whispered "not yet" made her keep recording, and she watched with wide eyes and a slacked jaw as Loki walked up to the stage, his hand outstretched up toward you. 

"Take his hand, babes!" Nat hollered, cheering as you walked over to the edge of the stage, placing your hand in his. She and Wanda where all out squealing the second her brought your hand to his lips and kissed your knuckles. 

"For fuck's sake, Bambi, kiss her!" Tony spoke through cupped hands. 

Thor started clapping thunderously as you placed your hands on Loki's shoulders and he placed his hands on your hips and lifted you from the stage, setting you back down in front of him. On a whim, Wanda used her magic to point the mic toward you.

"My lark. My Y/N." Wanda held back her squeals as he brought his hands up to frame your face. "My love." 

The whole bar erupted into cheers as he leaned down and laid his lips on yours, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you close to him and causing you to place your arms on his shoulders. 

"Ladies and gentlemen, The Lonely Avenger!!" a new voice announced as a man walked up the stage, encouraging a fresh round of applause from the crowd. "I for one am glad to see this turn of events. Who isn't a sucker for a good happy beginning?"

A murmured voice escorting you backstage to the green room was heard through the speakers, giving Wanda the cue to stop recording. Although she immediately regretted turning the camera off once she saw the unmistakably mischievous grin on the god's face as he wrapped his arm around your waist and lifted you off your feet, walking you both towards the aforementioned room with a little twirl of your dress. 

"Dammit this means I owe Morgan a hundred bucks," Tony muttered, making the sorceress turn an incredulous gaze toward him. 

"Tony, Morgan knows," Natasha told him, making the billionaire's eyes widen in pure disbelief. "Since before Y/N's first show. She's the one who told Wanda."

"Duped by my own daughter," he muttered. "Is it weird that I'm proud of her?" The team shook their heads as he turned to look at the blonde Asgardian. "And why did you forfeit, Point Break? You would've won."

"I found out before Lady Y/N left for her mission with the assassins."

"WHAT?!" the remainder of the team all but yelled in unison, proceeding to ask the god about the hows of it all. 

The moment the door to the green room closed, Loki cradled your head with one hand and had your body trapped between him and the door, his other hand now resting on your side, thumb gently stroking your stomach. "My darling," he said softly, the brilliant smile on his face never fading as he leaned in and pressed his lips to your exposed neck.

He proceeded to trail his lips down to the base of your throat and across your collarbone, humming a sound of contentment against your skin as he kept on murmuring your name between kisses. Your breathing became erratic as you gasped for air, your heaving chest pressing your skin even more against his lips.

You let out a hybrid between a squeak and a moan as he placed his hands on the back of your thighs, adjusting his hold on you and making you wrap your legs around him, giving you a flashback to earlier this year when he did the exact same motion to help you reach your mug at the top shelf. He trailed his kisses up to your lips once more, claiming your mouth with his at a languid, decadent pace. As if you had all the time in the world. You couldn't help but to sigh against him, allowing yourself for just a moment to be content with what was happening.

"I love you," he mumbled against your lips, pressing one more tender kiss upon them before pulling away, his grin one of obvious repletion, before spotting the look of consternation on your face and his expression quickly faded into one of concern. "What's wrong, dear heart?" 

"Do…do you love me or…"

"Oh, my darling mortal," he whispered as he cupped your face and pressed a frantic kiss to your lips. "I love you, Y/N. I've loved you long before you first sang under that moniker. Long before Stark's party." He pressed his lips against yours once more and you could feel your body physically weaken the moment both felt and heard him moan against your mouth. "I will tell you in the plainest words I can find, my love. I am maddeningly in love with you, Y/N. And I wish for you to be mine." 

"I'm yours," you said in a breathy exhale, unable to breathe as you felt his lips latch on to a particularly sensitive spot between your neck and shoulder and proceeded to lightly suck on the skin. "I've--fuck--I've always been yours." He had you arching into his kiss once his lips moved lower, playing at the neckline of your dress, just above your heart. "Please…please, Loki, I need--"

"I know, my darling," he cut you off, pressing his body harder against yours, muffling your moans with another kiss to your lips. "I know. But I do not wish for our first time together to be in the back room of a bar. You deserve more than that." He once again peppered kisses up the column of your neck. "You deserve to be worshipped. Savored. For hours. Days, even." Your breath hitched at the very thought of being at his mercy for hours, let alone days. "Just say the words, my love. Say them and I will make it so. You would be mine to do with as I please, and I yours."

He pulled away from you with a final kiss to your jaw, making you arch toward him again, silently begging him to resume his attentions. He didn't. Instead he simply stroked your cheek with his thumb, causing you to lean in to his touch. 

"I won't kiss you again until you say them, darling," he teased. "So say them and allow us both our rapture."

"I love you," you all but shouted, the evident desperation in your voice making him bite his lip as he smirked at you. You took a breath, trying to calm yourself. "I love you, Loki." He smiled, leaning in until your lips were barely touching. "Make me yours."

"With pleasure, my darling Y/N," he said with a soft kiss to your lips. "You must know, my love. You've never been alone. You have me. You've always had me." His next kiss felt like a promise, as if he was casting a spell that sealed your fates together in that single kiss. "Shall we?"

"Just lemme get my things," you said breathlessly. With a wave of his hand, your bag disappeared from the table in a flash of green. "We should at least tell the team we're leaving."

"I believe they're aware. Or they should have surmised by now that we do not intend to return to their company for a while," he answered with a smirk. "I'm sure by now my brother's told the staff that we've most likely disappeared from this room and it's safe to enter once more, so I believe our next move is to do precisely that." 

"You have to put me down, you know," you said with a giggle. "You can't just lug me around like a weird captive koala."

"I won't lug you around anywhere like a small furry animal. I intend to hold the woman I love in my arms; I will put you down only once there is a bed in our vicinity. Not a moment sooner." He pulled your body closer to his, securing his hold on you before pressing a tender kiss to your cheek. "Close your eyes, my love," he whispered in your ear. You did exactly that.

When he told you to open them you were no longer in the green room; rather you were in an opulent bedroom with a central motif of marble and a faded shade of gold. Looking at the view from the balcony you could tell that you were still within New York, but this was definitely not the Tower. "Mischief? Where are we?" You looked at his face and your breath hitched at the simpering look on his face.

"I took the liberty of acquiring us some accommodations for the week." The week? Your breathing thinned as he walked over to the bed, gently laying you down upon it. "Did you truly think I would bring you back to my chambers? Where my brother could so easily barge in like the brutish oaf he often is? That I would have my fill of you after one night?" He kissed his way down to your clothed stomach, before lightly grasping one of your legs and pressing a searing kiss to the back of your knee. "My darling, if you did, you've sorely underestimated how desperately I have longed for you." 

You had no words left in you except, "A week?" 

"Only because that is all I could manage without starting a war with our dear Captain over monopolizing your time, and leaving our team short of two resources at once," he answered you simply. "So, my lark…" He kissed the back of your knee once more before slowly crawling up your body. "My darling Y/N…" He kissed the exposed skin of your chest, just above your heart. "My love…" He captured your lips in a slow, sensual kiss that left you breathless. "Shall we begin?" 

A/N: I can't believe the series is already over, but that's it. That's the end of the main story of 'secret notes'! I hope y'all enjoyed going on this ride with me and in true 'me' fashion, this isn't really the end. Outtakes will come…I don't know when but I know they are happening.

But more importantly…it means that I have my schedule all clear for the collab series I've been talking about, and I can finally reveal that my fellow writer for this is none other than @mochie85!!

Taglist:

Everything: @lokisgoodgirl @lokischambermaid @imalovernotahater @mygfloki @lucylaufeyson3 @thomase1 @springdandelixn @fictive-sl0th @mochie85 @laliceee @xorpsbane @gigglingtigger @silverfire475 @cabingrlandrandomcrap @vickie5446 @salempoe @lokixryss @sinsandguilt @lokidbadguy @alexakeyloveloki @glitterylokislut @arch-venus25 @freefrommars @littlemortals @cakesandtom @girl-of-multi-fandoms @mischief2sarawr @thedistractedagglomeration @five-miles-over @goblingirlsarah @peaches1958 @huntress-artemiss @lilibet261 @iobsessoverfictionalmen @holymultiplefandomsbatman @lovingchoices14 @avoliax @devilsadvocactus @purplegrrl27 @lokiprompts @sititran @imherefortomhiddleston @ladyjames78 @stupidthoughtsinwriting

Loki: @calumance @severuslovebot

[kalims]

✉ ⋮ idk I just had an urge to do this because my mind decided to remember my obsession with quanxi and her gfs. <3 I HATE THIS BYE

fem!reader reveals that she's into girls to their admirers/freind. ft. not all genshin men and itto being dumb as hell. not everyone likes reader romantically.

fluff, angst perhaps, one-sided crush on diluc and kaeya's part.

diluc

"oh."

he immediately pieces things together the moment he processes your words. he's speechless and doesn't know how to react so he just blurts out the first thing that comes to mind.

it takes a few whole seconds for him to regain his composure that is currently reduced to an embarassed, shocked mess. embarassed because why couldn't his blinded eyes see it? he could clearly see the difference between the way you converse with him and a certain blue haired vengeful woman.

you're more attentive, listening to the half hearted spews of vengeance spilling from her mouth. and he's never seen you look so.. what's the word? excited, happy maybe? he doesn't know how to explain.

he apologizes profusely, giving you a drink and saying it's on the house tonight. the only thing on his mind was to recognize boundaries and get over his little crush immediately.

kaeya

"that's quite the surprising revelation.."

let's get this straight, he may seem cool and understanding but he's legit panicking inside his head. lighty scolding himself to keep it together, he can't force love that doesn't even have attraction!

kaeya gets over it pretty quickly and starts teasing you, saying sometimes along the lines of: "heh, don't you think rosaria would like it too?" mentions her name in every sentence and makes it so fucking obvious that there's an inside secret going between the two of you.

rosaria only stares at him, unimpressed and exhausted because it's kaeya. she doesn't like things being kept from her either way so she asks you ONCE on 'what's his deal' and scoffs quietly when you look close to having a seizure.

kaeya wingman era.‼️

kaedehara kazuha

"I've known for a while now, when are you telling captain?"

this mf, this mf right here. HE KNOWS. says unintentionally concerning things like, he's known from the first time your gaze landed on her 'high and mighty silhouette'. low key got poetic.

tells you that he hopes to get TWO mothers soon and you have so pinch his arm when beidou comes strutting in with a curious raise of her brow and a grin appearing in her mouth.

best wingman ever if he ever gets over his teasing phase, he's smooth as HELL. "captain beidou, I've noticed that miss (name) has been feeling under the weather, I remember her saying something about home sickness." "really? huh... they never mentioned anything about that.. I'll go ahead and help her then."

gorou

"H-HER EXCELLENCY-- I-I.. mean, thank you for informing me of these.. uh--"

turned bright red, keeps tripping over his words and pausing as if he's realizing that he's supposed to be the strict, calm and composed general.

drinks respect women juice TM. gets all starry eyed when he spots you and kokomi taking a walk together in watatsumi Island, ALONE. becomes a fanboy for a minute before realizing. 'oh no!! her excellency and miss (name) might be in danger!! D:'

he gives me overprotective vibes so he proteccs the lesbians. 😇

arataki itto

"hUUuuH? does that mean you're into oni?" "no. arataki."

feels like his brain is frying from trying to comprehend your sentence so his mind goes like: so she's into oni..! that's good cuz' I'm the resident oni in town! 😎

when you begrudgingly explain to him that you're interested in girls rather than boys. he says 'OHHH' so loudly then proceeds to scream 'OHHH??' more loudly again because he realizes you have something for his .arch.enemy. 👺

calls you his enemy now cause there ain't no way you LIKE LIKE the tengu warrior he LOST to, like? out of all girls out there why u gotta like her. >:(

"that tengu girl?? really?? talk about shit taste." "can you shut the fuck up, do you want the whole city to know??"

[rayofsunas]

s/o who dies.

A/n: listennnn, I wasn't going to write something dark, but then I unregretfully decided to listen to edgy/dark audios and I was suddenly in the mood to write this so yeah lmao. also, guess what? I'm planning on making a discord server right after posting this! so, be on the lookout for that when I get it all sorted out. also, note for Scaramouche's that the reader inserts tend to lean more femininely versed (I hope that's okay), the only reasons why I do that is because one I simp and I'm female AND two since I am doing a mini-series for Scara, I've kind of based his imagines/fics around that universe (baby daddy universe). I haven't started his yet, but consider these part of that series' universe. anyways as always thank you for requesting anon and enjoy! <333

Summary: you die + how the boys cope afterward.

Parings: Albedo/Gn! Reader, Xiao/Gn! Reader, Scaramouche/Fem! Reader

Warnings: swearing, angst, death, poison, illness/cancer, murder, arson, obsessive behavior

Word count: 2.1k

Albedo

"You need to keep this on your head." Your lover said for the one-hundredth time, placing the cold cloth on your forehead once again after taking it off only seconds earlier.

"This is pointless," You said, no longer wanting to ignore nor hide behind the invisible thick curtains of the obvious death sentence approaching. "My body rejected the medicine the first twice doses, what's a third time going to do?" You asked, knowing Albedo wouldn't answer; your hope was to knock some sense into his thick skull. but he was too worried trying to ignore the obvious as you had previously been doing, not anymore though.

This was saddening to watch, both Albedo's unfolding and the girl who accidentally poisoned you, whimpering into Sucrose's shoulder. She was only a young girl, barely seventeen when she was chosen to work under Sucrose and your boyfriend. She was very good at Alchemy and luckily had a desire to practice the craft. But unfortunately, she hadn't paid much attention when it came to Surcrose's educational poison lesson and had unknowingly mixed up poisonous liquids and materials.

After tipping over some clutter in Albedo's office and knocking over a test tube laying unsealed on the counter, you had realized the contents spilled on your skin, bleaching into your pores. You had been tasked with bringing the famed alchemist and his assistant some vials and materials for the collection of a rare butterfly they had found. It was both telling and obvious that something was wrong when you never showed up with the required materials requested and it was already too late hours later when the chief Alchemist, his assistant, and Alchemist in training came bounding down the stairs of Albedo's home laboratory.

It didn't take long for the trio to realize something was wrong. Sucrose had found the vile on the floor, most of its contents spilled and in a little puddle, plus your state on a nearby lounge chair was obvious; slumped awkwardly, forehead visibly sweating, eyes closed, breathing raspily.

You accepted the first doses of the supposed nullifying medicine without hesitation, just wanting the numbing feeling to go away. But when it never kicked in you decided it would be best to save the medicine, because it wasn't working. Your time was coming.

"Since the medicine is taking immediate effect, you should try to get the contents out of your system," He said, reaching out for you. Badly you wanted to argue that the medicine wasn't working at all, but he wasn't listening and already has his lean arms wrapped around your middle, helping gently lift and guide you over to the sink.

You hear materials being shoved to the side and soon enough you had your head dangling over the sink, shaking hands gripping the metalled edge tightly. Soon enough, Albedo's hand was on your back rubbing up and down, hoping to comfort you, it wasn't working though. You could only think about your death, what the other side would look like. Could there even be heaven or hell, maybe a place in between, maybe nowhere...?

As soon as you felt the urge to vomit, you did, and despite it being utterly disgusting Albedo seemed to welcome it happily. He took this as something good, but it only worried you when you saw the reddish hues in the bile.

"I think they should leave." You muttered acknowledging Sucrose and Elizabeth, the taste of gooey, metal only becoming more apparent. The blonde agreed, nodding and muttering "Okay."

As Sucrose lead Elizabeth towards the stairs, the pair heard you say. "Goodbye Sucrose, Elizabeth." Which only seemed to make the young girl wail louder.

You sighed sadly once the silence was back. Just your thoughts of death, and Albedo's slowly crushing heart.

"You should probably leave soon as well. I don't want you to be here when I go." Albedo frowned at your statement, head shaking.

"Don't say things like that."

Of course, he'd say that. Why did he feel the need to ignore this when it would only come back to hurt him even more later on when you were gone?

"You're the smartest man I know and we both know where this is heading," You said, head feeling much heavier than before. It was getting closer to your time. "I'm going to die, and you can't do anything about it."

"I'm not leaving your side. We promised to stick together through everything, you can't ask me to leave."

"I guess... But promise me this."

"When I go, stop blaming Elizabeth. It was an accident..." You said sincerely. Albedo wanted to make a fuss about it, tell you he'd never been able to forgive her. But for you, he would try. If it was your list desire, your last wish, he'd make it come true. Though it would be difficult. Accidental or not, she was the reason you were leaving him here, alone.

"Okay, I'll try..." He said honestly.

"Thank you," You said, letting out a shaking breath you had been holding for a very long time. Now you felt much more peaceful. "And since I know you stubbornly won't leave," You started, finally turning away from the sink to look into his cerulean eyes. "At least hold my hand."

"Of course, love."

even a year after your death, no matter how hard he tried, there was still this nagging feeling every time he looked at Elizabeth

he wanted too badly forgive her, but he couldn't

she had, although accidental, taken the one person that meant so much to him and he'd never forgive

Albedo is gonna be distant towards everyone he knows and it's completely purposeful

he doesn't like the pitiful gazes that people send his way and he hates that all the captains stared at him at your funeral

obviously, some questioned if he was able to stay in the field

he hadn't taken any time off, even when Jean advised he was welcome and that it would be best

tbh, albedo's going to have a hard time for a while

Xiao

Why did it have to be you? Why not him? He'd feel much better knowing you could live another day, after all, he'd been living a very long time.

But no, the fallen Archons, Gods, Yaksha had chosen you to join them. He wished that weren't the case

Humans and their pathetic vessels... So weak, he thought. Allowing something like cancer to beat them.

No matter how harsh it sounded, he didn't despise you, no. It wasn't your fault. You didn't ask for this. He just knew that if you were a godly being this wouldn't have happened like this or at least not so soon; Xiao had known Gods that had terminal illnesses to live years. Why couldn't you be like them?

He hated watching you lie there in that bed, immobile, sickly, and tired, and all you could say was that everything was going to be alright, that he'd be alright.

But it wasn't. He wouldn't be okay without you. He would struggle daily, fall deeper into a hole. You were the light of his life, the only light in his life. And you were gone, just like that. Turning external scars into internal ones tattered all over his dying heart.

Xiao for the longest time has been by himself, so the people of Liyue know it'll be harder for him to overcome this, no matter what he says or does to prove otherwise

Zhongli in particular knows how hard this will be for his friend

his first and probably last love, dead, gone in the blink of an eye

he'll continue fighting all the monsters he crosses, becoming even more violent when he does so, trying his best to get rid of this stupid sickly feeling of heartbreak

but it won't go away, no matter what he does, no matter how absurd

he just wants the feeling to go away, he despises that feeling so much

if you have a secret place somewhere, like in the mountains, Zhongli often finds him there, wallowing in invisible self-pity

"You know they wouldn't want you to be like this." Zhongli would say, only trying to help

but it doesn't

it only enrages Xiao, even more, fuels him to push everyone out of his life again instead of letting them in like he'd done in your presence

Scaramouche

How dare you. How dare you leave him like this. Alone, nonetheless with a toddler to raise who kept crying for her mommy. He couldn't do this without you, he didn't know how to raise a child, speak to her with the gentle care that you did. That was your expertise but now he'd be doing it solo.

And never again would he entrust someone who he cares about, into ignorant, incompetent arms. Never again will he ever allow any member of the Fatui to watch after his daughter; no matter their rank or position. They had one job while he was away doing business in Liyue. Guard your home twenty-four seven, accompany you into Inazuma's port town should you need anything, watch after his daughter while she plays happily in the luscious Inazuma fields. And they couldn't do that. All he gave them was one simple task, watch and keep you and your daughter safe. Instead, they slacked off, probably drunk in some bar while you were being brutally attacked by murderous mercenaries, left to fend for you and your daughter, only to die protecting her and leave your home to be severely burned.

He knew those idiotic Fatui soldiers were incompetent the moment he stepped foot into the harbor and found that everyone seemed to quiet down. Especially the eerily silent soldiers flanked on each side to welcome him home; he was the highest-ranking soldier in the land of Inazuma after all. Not a single one bothered to step forward and tell him what was wrong, what they all criminally allowed happen. Scaramouche only realized what had happened when he was mere minutes away from arriving home, his daughter had come running from his widowed mother's arms, the sight of smoke rising in the air, from the direction of his home. You were nowhere to be seen.

It all happened so fast, in the blink of an eye. His daughter was clinging to his shirt and his mother only stared with tears of pity.

It didn't take long for the puzzle pieces to be put together and before he knew it, Scaramouche was standing in front of his home, part of it burnt to a crisp and black.

He didn't need to ask what happened, he didn't need to know where you were, because he already knew. What he didn't know was who exactly had done this. But he was going to find out, now.

Incompetent, selfish, bastards. They would all pay for this. The lazy piggish Fatui soldiers who he should've never trusted with such a simple task and the thieves who had murdered you. They all had it rightfully coming.

Scaramouche hates the world after he lost you

he hates it so much and can't understand how this had happened

he's not a good person, so he blames it on karma and those stupid idiots who couldn't protect you

ngl, he's not gonna be around much after your death... his mother would argue that he should be here to raise your daughter, because she's also in pain and doesn't understand that this isn't some game of hide and seek this time

instead, he's focused and driven by revenge

he doesn't listen to a word anybody says, he's much more dangerous than before, and he only trusts his judgment

anyone trying to get him to stop his mission, is someone who doesn't want to see him happy he thinks (though that's not true at all. they hate that he is obsessive over this) but he will personally put a stop to that

and he'll only return home to his daughter and mother when he finds who did this and they along with their bloodline is exterminated

while he's gone, the remainder of his family is relocated somewhere he knows they'll be safe, for example, even though he despises childe, he knows his mom and daughter will be safe with his family

sorry, but Scaramouche will hold this deep-rooted hatred and love for you after you die

yes, he still loves and misses you dearly, but he hates you for leaving him alone, hates that although it wasn't intentional and out of your control, that you were gone

no matter how hard you tried to fight, it was selfish of you to leave him like this

he's not going to stop until he believes whoever was behind this is dead

and in his case, he'll stop believing when he chooses, even if they are innocent/guilty, he'll keep going

3.19.21, rayofsunas

[mindofasupernova]

Mr. Sandman

Kaz Brekker x reader

Inspired by the song "Mr. Sandman" from SYML.

Description: Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream. A beautiful illusion of when they were younger, when things were good. A dream where Kaz hadn't shattered her heart into a million pieces, one where Kaz still cared.

Warnings: angst

Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream.

A beautiful illusion of when they were younger, when it was just the two of them against the world.

Y/N met Kaz Brekker before he earned the name "Dirtyhands" when he was still inexperienced, seeking a way to make fame in the criminal underworld.

Their introduction wasn't a conventional one, the first time he'd laid eyes upon Y/N, Kaz was surveilling a new bank's vault he wanted to crack. Back at the time, Kaz Brekker was just beginning to refine his lock picking abilities, he was more careful, taking longer at figuring out the ways around safe.

Kaz Brekker was attentively watching a vault demonstration the bank was giving in hopes of acquiring new wealthy customers when his bitter coffee eyes landed on Y/N.

She was leaning against a door that led to the bank's depository, eyes closed as if straining to hear the sounds on the other side. A frown upon her face, concentrating, and a few minutes before an employee opened the door she was leaning on, she pushed herself out of the way and left the bank.

The next day, news had spread around the Barrel like wildfire that someone had stolen the diamonds that resided in the new safe that belonged to the bank's depository. That was no coincidence, somehow Y/N had done it. Kaz dedicated his whole afternoon tracking the girl down until he had found her working as a dishwasher in a popular restaurant.

"How did you do it? How did you manage to open the safe?"

Y/N stared back at Kaz, terrified eyes fearing someone might overhear them. Y/N tried to lie about it but he could see straight through them.

"I like memorizing things. I remembered the sounds, every click the locks gave when the vault was being opened." Y/N answered reluctantly

"What kind of things do you like to memorize?" the raven-haired boy prompted.

"Anything that leaves good money."

"I have a job offer for you. "

And just like that, the promise of a very odd friendship began.

____________

Make him the cutest that I've ever seen, give him two lips like roses and clover. Then tell him that his lonesome nights are over.

The truth was that Kaz Brekker wasn't gentle in any way. He was selfish, logically cold, and unafraid of danger if it was for the right price.

Their friendship had bloomed in the blood-stained streets, finding solace in each other to survive the hungry beast that was Ketterdam.

Y/N's memory had proven useful, she was Kaz's little library of secrets. Her mind was the vault that safely guarded all types of information; transactions, blueprints, deals that Kaz couldn't risk to curious eyes. Every word was imprinted into Y/N's mind.

Y/N had lied when she said she only memorized things that brought money. She remembered all of Kaz's little ticks: The way he ran his hand through his hair when he was tired, the grip that tightened on his cane when stressed, the joyous glint in his eyes after a successful job, the almost imperceptible tug of his lips during their late-night talks and the shape of his lips when he proudly explained his plans to her.

Y/N knew it was foolish to fall for someone like Kaz, but her heart couldn't stop racing every time they talked. Couldn't stop her gaze searching for him amongst a crowd, the way her breath hitched every time Kaz looked out for her. It was a childish wish and yet, sometimes she could have sworn Kaz cared deeply for her too.

__________

Sandman, I'm so alone, don't have nobody to call my own.

Where had it all gone wrong? What had she done to Kaz for him to shatter her heart the way he did?

One moment she was getting ready to go on a heist, it was supposed to be easy, gather intel, and escape before anyone knew they had been there. It didn't end well.

Y/N had been given the task to distract their target's bodyguards, pretend to be an injured scared girl in need of assistance, but someone had told them the Dregs would be there. A guard had grabbed her harshly and forced her to give away her crew's location, but when she refused he'd beaten her unconscious.

The next morning she had woken up at the Slat, everyone was worried she might have not woken up. However, as soon as she was healed, Kaz called her to his office.

"Why?" Y/N's broken words were met with silence.

"Have I ever failed you? Have I not done everything you asked for?!" she questioned, tears threatening to fall. "Why are you kicking me out?! This is my home too, my family!"

"You won't have to worry about searching for a place to stay. I've already made arrangements, a small apartment is waiting for you." Kaz spoke, expression unreadable.

Y/N wanted to throttle Kaz, shake him up and demand a reason for his sudden decision. He hadn't even visited when she was injured and now he was kicking her out. He had no right, no right to strip away her found family. Had all those night talks meant nothing to him? Were all those small gestures and tiny smiles a ruse?

"You can't do this! I have all your secrets! I have stood by your side longer than anyone", Y/N screamed at Kaz, eyes begging him to say something. To tell her to stay, to tell her he cared.

She never heard those words instead she received a bitter response that mercilessly ripped her heart out. "Do not think that just because I have kept you around for this long you're irreplaceable."

This time Y/N didn't suppress the tears, silently gliding down her cheeks when she walked out of Kaz's office and away from the Slat.

____________

Please turn on your magic beam, Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream.

A beautiful dream where she wasn't tied to a chair, broken ribs, and blood pouring from a large gauge in her stomach. The Dime Lions had captured her, knowing full well she was one of Kaz's most trusted allies, they decided to torture her until she spilled Brekker's secrets. But Y/N wasn't a traitor and even though Kaz had crushed her heart, she still loved him and would rather die than betray him.

Eyes barely open, black spots clouding her vision, she was fading away. Oh, how she wished that Kaz would come to save her, take her back to the Slat, tell her he was sorry and that he needed her by his side. But dreams were for children, Kaz wouldn't come because he simply did not care, because she was replaceable.

She wanted a dream, one where the punches thrown at her were tender glances. One where the sounds of bones breaking were quiet caring words she'd shared with Kaz once upon a time. Where the coppery taste of blood staining her tongue was the one of hot chocolate she and Kaz used to drink in his office.

Please, bring her a marvelous dream, back where things were good. A dream when Kaz still cared for her. One where he loved her.

Mr. Sandman, please bring me a dream.

@getawayfrommewerewolf, @princessleah129, @rika90, @lady1505

[deexchanel]

little girl in a box.

word count:

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x BlackFem!Reader

Warning: Swearing, mention of killing😬.

Summary: Bucky and Y/N comes home from their date to find a sweetheart in a box.

A/N: this haven't been my week so im using fanfiction to be a distraction.

Y/N and Bucky walked up the stairs to their apartment in Bucharest. They were holding hands, engaged in a conversation.

"I was thinking, what if I made shrimp alfredo?" Y/N asked as their hands sway back and forth. Bucky looked at her confused.

"What's alfredo?"

"Oh my god, you never had it before?"

"I mean in the army they boiled everything. It wasn't really lavish."

"Everything boiled sound so nasty."

"I know right but I managed. What's going to be in it?"

"Shrimp and pasta with Alfredo sauce. I think you're going to love it!"

"That's fine with me babe, as long as it isn't soup."

"Same." Y/N laughed letting go of his hand so she could unlock the door. Normally they would go through the window. But just for one night, they didn't want to be paranoid. Just to have one normal night.

Bucky stopped in his tracks staring at a medium size box that had big holes poked in it. "Y/N were you expecting something?"

"No." Y/N with hesitation getting worried that this might a setup. Bucky pulled her behind him protectively then proceeded to nudge open the box. The box top fell off and a pair of brown doe eyes stared back at them. Bucky hardened face expression soften as he saw a beautiful little girl in the box.

Whoever left this beautiful child in the box was a horrible person in general. The little girl sat up looking at the couple nervously. Bucky squat down so they could be eye level.

"Hi princess... I'm Bucky and that's my girlfriend Y/N. Would you like to tell me your name?" Bucky said softly then pointed at Y/N who waved giving a toothless smile. It was like Bucky's dad instincts kicked in as he felt the need to protect the little girl any way he could.

She shook her head as a way of saying she didn't want to talk. Her body was skinny seeming that she haven't ate in a couple of days. She looked no older then 4. Y/N squat down to help ease her nerves.

"How about we go in and get you something to eat?"

The little girl looked at Y/N scaredly and instantly held her arms out for Bucky. Y/N sigh knowing that whatever happened in this girl past, she was scared of women she didn't trust. Bucky picked her up gently not wanted to hurt her with his arm.

They walked into the apartment and Y/N quickly started to prepare dinner. Bucky sat on the bed while the little girl sat on the side of them. He tries to start conversation again with her.

"Can you tell me your name now?"

The little girl looked around before speaking softly,"Melanie.."

The pair looked at each otherin shock, he got her to talk. There wasn't any technology in the room so they best way to stay entertained was to have conversation.

"Well Melanie how old are you?" Bucky questioned.

"Five." She said but held up three fingers making Bucky smile in amusement. He helped her by raising up another finger.

"How old are you?"

Y/N giggled while fixing their bowls. Nobody have ever asked him that. Bucky laughed since its been a long time since someone asked him that.

"Well doll, I'm 106."

Melanie made a funny face turning her head to the side. Y/N came over with three bowls in her hands. Bucky grabbed the bowls passing one to Melanie, while holding the other ones as Y/N sat down so she wouldn't spill it.

"Can I eat all of it? I've been good all week." Melanie moved some of her hair from her face with a a sadden expression. Y/N felt so bad for her, this wasn't right.

"Baby you can eat all it. I can make more if you want some okay?"

"Okay." Melanie smiled digging in her food. Bucky and Y/N shared a look. He was angry that she went through horrible things at a young age.

After dinner, Bucky washed and put the dishes away while Y/N laid down on the mattress. Melanie kept picking her head up to see if Bucky was coming.

"He's coming honey, he's washing dishes."Y/N laughed softly realizing what she was doing. "You tired?"

Melanie shook her head, rubbing her eyes,"No."

"Yes you are. Come here?" Y/N asked nicely but Melanie poked out her lip. She was sitting in the middle of the mattress near Y/N's knees.

"Noo, I'm waiting on Bucky."

"Here I am princess." Bucky grunt getting on his knees behind her. Melanie looked happy as he picked her up, walking on his knees to get to this spot on the mattress. Y/N laid on her side, watching them in admiration. 

Melanie was very brave and didn't take long getting used to the couple. Food was a way to her heart so the trust came quickly. She was snuggled between Bucky and Y/N while they cuddled her enjoying their sleep.

-----------

2:48 a.m.

People smashing through the apartment windows starled them awoke. Before Bucky could reach for his gun, a man punched him in the face. Y/N quickly grabbed Melanie holding her into her chest then gets up grabbing the emergency bookbag.

The couple agreed that if this was to happen then find the best way out possible. They would find each other no matter how far away they was. Bucky did one on one combat with the man that broke in.

"GO Y/N!"

She nodded rushing to the door making sure to keep a good grip on Melanie. When she opened the door a man stood their with a gun pointed directly at her head. Melanie start to cry with all the commotion going on. Tears start to fall out of Y/N's eyes, thinking this was it.

"Go back in now or I won't hesitate putting one between your eyes." The man sneered putting the cold gun on her forehead. Y/N turned around going back into the apartment. Bucky closed his eyes trying not to lose it as he saw his family being held at gun point.  He was being held at gun point as well but he was hoping that his girls was able to get away.

"So Winter Soldier, you really thought you could get away." A man laughed turning on a light revealing his face. It was Rumlow holding Bucky at gun point and the man that held Y/N at gun point was Pierce. Bucky chest heaved up and down as he was getting angrier.

Melanie little face was turning red from how hard she was crying. Pierce rapidly pointed another gun in his other hand at Melanie's little forehead.

"NO!"Bucky jumped forward but Rumlow put the gun on his forehead making him stop. Pierce took the gun off safety pressing it harder on Melanie's forehead which makes Y/N sob harder.

"Shut the little brat up!"

"Melanie baby, stop... stop crying we're okay. Bucky's okay." Y/N lied hoping she was to stop crying. Melanie cries turns into sniffles looking at Y/N hopefully.

Y/N nod her head crying,"We're okay baby."

Bucky felt like he let his girls down. He was so angry that he wanted to kill both of them but he couldn't move. "I'll go back and do whatever. Just p-please leave my family out of this."

"That's what I wanted to hear! Cuff him!" Pierce exclaimed letting the guns drop from Y/N and Melanie. Y/N shook her head not wanting Bucky to leave and endure all the things they worked so hard for him to forget.

"Bucky no!”

"Shut it bitch!" Pierce snapped at her holding the gun to her head again making her jump. It was killing Bucky for not being able to help.

"I'm sorry Y/N. I love you." Bucky sigh putting his arms behind his back so Rumlow could cuff him. As Rumlow did, Redwing flew in dropping a disk on Pierce's forehead electrocuting him. Sending him unconscious.

Bucky ducked as Rumlow shot the gun towards him making the girls scream. Sam flew in the window taking out the extra gaurd that stood by the refrigerator. Bucky stood up swiftly so he could take out Rumlow.

He smirked aiming the gun towards the girls," I guess nobody's getting what they want." Rumlow shot the gun at the girls. Y/N used her body to shield Melanie. Bucky stared in horror as he tried to get to them but Steve's shield covered them from the bullets.

Bucky turned around angrily at Rumlow pulling out the secret gun that was in his  waist holster. With no hesitation, Bucky shoots him between the eyes. Rumlow body fell to the ground.

Y/N came from behind Steve's large frame. She walked over to Bucky and pulled him into a hug without crushing Melanie's little body. Bucky rubbed his hand through Y/N hair and kissed Melanie's forehead. They didn't have anything to say, they were just grateful to all be alive.

"I'm so sorry to ruin this moment guys but we need to go. Their supposed to be bringing in reinforcements any second." Steve said placing his shield on his back.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y. bring the jet back around." Sam pressed his finger on the com.

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

On the jet, it was quiet but peaceful time for them to rejuvenate. Bucky couldn't sleep so he watched over his girls who were sleeping.

Melanie slept on his chest with his metal arm holding her up so her face could implant into his neck. Y/N was cuddled up with his arm wrapped around her. He kissed their foreheads every other second for his comfort.

"Thank you guys." Bucky said to Sam and Steve who were sitting in the in the front seats of quinjet.

"Just gald you guys are safe." Steve pat his hand on Bucky's shoulder.

"Plus we were able to kill two birds with one stone. Bonus but glad we could help."Sam said making Bucky smiled. He looked at his girls, very content with life.

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

horrible writing.

I wrote this bout a year ago. I don't like it, but i just needed it as a distraction.

stay slutty my friends

[moon-lixie]

about a letter left to be found and a boy who disappeared into thin air.

word count: 2.046k

genre: slight angst

song: 말할 수 없는 비밀 (Secret Secret) - Stray Kids

I don't think any of you would be able to understand, not even if I sit down and speak all of my truths. Still, I think I owe an explanation.

With trembling hands he gathered his things, the notebooks filled with dreams spilling from the edges of every page, his favourite hoodies, the pair of bright red headphones he had since the beginning of high school.

From the open window a cold breeze came in and ruffled the slightly damp hair of the boy, paying special attention to the ends that were still clamped together due to the dampness.

He wasn't exactly in a hurry, but he still felt nervous and anxious, because even if it was almost impossible, at the back of his mind he was haunted by the idea of someone coming in and stopping him.

Moving quickly he reached down for the towel hanging around his shoulders and ruffled his hair a couple of times more until he felt satisfied.

First of all, I have no idea where I am going but know that I'm fine.

A loud sigh caressed his lips as it escaped, filling the room that he had always called his own, his little world nobody could disrupt because in between the forgotten comics and the piles of clothes sprawled here and there he had felt more at home than he has ever felt anywhere else.

Throwing the towel to the basket of dirty laundry at the end of the hallway, he finally finished everything he had to do, simply being left with staring at himself in the mirror and fixing the wild strands of hair that had been upset by the freshly washed hoodie hugging his torso.

He could barely muster a smile at his reflection, not because he was sad, but because it all felt surreal in a sense that left him wondering if it was still the middle of the night many years ago and the last years had been nothing but the hopeful dreams of his younger self.

Maybe it's a bit selfish of me to simply leave without a warning, but please understand that I want much more than this place could ever offer me.

He closed the front door of his house, locking it with the pair of keys his mother had given him once he turned twelve; they were still held together by the Pororo keychain he had bought one day after school with such an overwhelming excitement that made the memory pull at the corners of his lips.

It felt bizarre to walk away from the entrance of his home knowing that he was never really going to come back, that this was the last time.

Just like the very first time he had arrived there along with a moving truck packed with boxes and furniture, he felt breath leave his lungs at the sight of the white façade. It made him stop for a second and contemplate in utter silence.

Goosebumps coated the length of his arms once he turned around and kept moving forward at a steady pace, leaving his old bike behind as well.

Know that the decision to leave wasn't made in a haste, I've been thinking about it for long and now just seemed like the perfect time.

Mr. Kim lazily waved in his direction, gentle smile and downturned eyes with the familiar brown that reminded Jisung of his grandfather; maybe that's where he would go next, to visit his grandfather.

Without much thought he returned the sweet and familiar greeting, feeling a bit nostalgic when he thought back to all the summers that he had spent working with the man in his garden.

Back then a young Jisung had been happy to make a few bucks while getting to stay out all day in the yard playing with bugs and with the sun kissing the skin of his chubby cheeks and legs that weren't covered by his favourite pair of green shorts.

He couldn't help but wonder where had all that time run to because despite being the one who lived through it, he could barely make sense or when had he ended up where he was.

Time moved too fast and without a warning, it left everyone wondering.

It isn't easy to leave my whole life behind but it feels right, the mere idea makes me feel lighter because who knows who I'll get to be when I get to the end of my journey.

Perhaps I'll be braver, a little bit smarter, more mature, maybe even a couple of centimetres taller.

He could walk the streets with his eyes closed and still know where every bump and crack was in the sidewalk, he could still point where his old school was, where the closest convenience store stepped in his way and as usual tempted him to buy a snack even on those days were his pockets were empty and his tummy full.

From there he knew his way to everywhere else in town, he even knew how long it would take him to get to said places on foot or with his trusty bike.

It all felt too easy and familiar, too comfortable, and those things weren't bad at all but Jisung thought he had had enough of them. He craved discovering himself inside the walls of another place so foreign that every single one of his truths were only known by himself.

Was it silly? That he thought a change of scenery would make him a new person, one much more alike to who he truly was.

Sometimes talking to someone isn't enough, because you don't think they'll understand, you know they won't. That's why I never said anything about the deepest desires looming in my heart or the biggest fears that tied me down for as long as I can remember.

All the interrogations running leaps around his mind made him walk faster, filling him with the same dreadful excitement he felt every first day of school, one that mixed with nervousness and fear.

He wasn't sure if starting fresh would let him be someone whose fears didn't weigh upon his heart so harshly, he wasn't sure if he would get to be the person he had always wished he could be but he could only hope.

Hope had been what drove him this far and today he was giving it full control of where his feet moved to, control over how his next day would look like or where he would wake up the next day.

Never in his life had he felt more ready to wander around by himself.

But I guess, since I'm going, it's only fair that I try to sit down and talk to someone, hoping that they will understand even if my words are scarce and there will be nobody to talk back to at the end of this letter.

On the horizon the sun rushed to slumber, leaving a comforting lilac pooling around the clouds and making them stand out even more.

Night hovered over his shoulders making him breathe with much more ease because if there was something that portrayed hope and tomorrow with an uncanny resemblance and lack of effort, it was the night sky with its endless stars and its shining moon.

In his childhood days he had discovered that there was no better cure for uncertainty and a nostalgic heart than staring up at the night sky; there was something about it that made him feel like time stopped for an instance, that time wasn't quite as unforgiving while the veil of darkness covered everything.

If he could go anywhere he wanted —which he was already doing— he would wish to go to the sky, not the endless and uncertain space, but the idea of the sky that humans have in their ignorance, a canvas that goes no further than our eyes can see.

Ever since I can remember I've felt like there was a place for me somewhere out there, a place I always called home without knowing what it really was.

It wasn't like I didn't feel at home here, there was just a feeling in my chest that told me out there I could feel completely free in the way I've always craved.

For him it had always felt unfair, how everyone got to live and walk around without the things that kept him back. Of course when he grew older he understood that everyone had their own problems but sometimes that was easy to ignore when one's own darkness loomed around their heart.

He had spent many years wishing, praying to whoever was listening, that he could just be himself without the voices in his head and the uncertainties that made every single one of his steps be cautious.

Nobody seemed to have listened as years went by and things got harder, still, he never gave up and even though he could never really say that there was nothing else bothering him he could at least say that he had everything under control.

If time is unforgiving it also is healing, and for him it had healed many wounds that couldn't be seen.

Unknowingly I spent a lot of time wanting to go to that place, craving to find where it was.

Some years ago I understood that it perhaps wasn't a place but a version of myself that could bring such soothing feelings. That's where I'm going to, that's why I have no destination.

He wanted to believe that nothing had been planned, that his savings carefully stuffed at the bottom of his backpack had just been him being responsible about his money and having enough for the impulsiveness that one day had won over reason and had driven him to this adventure.

He wanted to pretend but it was stupid to do now, there was nobody around to judge him or question his motives, so there was no use in not being honest with himself.

Thinking back to all those evenings spent running around the small restaurant in which he had found a job, he could see that perhaps this plan had been many years in the making.

Unconsciously he had always been hoping for a moment like this, a moment of unadulterated freedom.

Hopefully I do get there, hopefully I get to be happy and everyone I left behind does too.

The journey to happiness, to authenticity, to being unapologetically himself, had taken him to the airport, another thing that wasn't as spontaneous as he had tried to make it seem.

Passport in hand and trembling self, the whiteness of the place and the various people walking back and forth made him realise that this was really going on, he was really leaving.

For the first time in his life overthinking had no place in his plans.

I wish to be who I am meant to and disappearing was perhaps the thing I had always been destined to do. A boy who disappeared into thin air, that's who I am, a boy with secrets that weigh down on my heart and that I'm unwilling to carry with me on this journey.

Approaching the desk he was met with a young woman, in her mid twenties or early thirties, sweet but practised smile covering her lips as she recited the words that he must've learned a long time ago when she first started working there.

"I want a ticket for the next flight available," Jisung said, offering a reassuring smile after the confused look the woman gave him.

He looked around as the sounds of typing filled his ears and before he had time to start regretting something the ticket had been placed on his palm and his savings were short by a considerable amount.

I'm afraid that wasn't much of an explanation but it was my truth.

Good luck and see you whenever we're meant to cross paths.

The last thing he saw before falling asleep were the clouds from above and the sky now completely dark like the many nights he had wondered where he belonged.

Now he had an answer, he belonged wherever he felt free and right then in that comfortable plane seat he felt the freest he had ever been.

[cocoartistwrites]

what are your favorite t swift lyrics to date? “just between us did the love affair maim you too” recently has me on the verge of tears just thinking about it so yeah ….

I have honestly no idea how long you expect this to be lol I've been waiting my whole life to answer this and now there's too many, so here are a few stand-outs that are by no means the only best ones or my only faves.

I'm ignoring all the bridges because I think Swiftian Bridges are their own category. I'm also just gonna do post 1989 otherwise this will be too long.

1. the whole of peace but specifically:

And you know that I'd swing with you for the fences Sit with you in the trenches Give you my wild, give you a child

2. you already picked one of my fave All Too Well 10 lyrics but I can't overlook this (and also ofc the punchline)

You kept me like a secret, but I kept you like an oath

3. all of Majorie, which is one of her greatest-ever songs, and always makes me cry:

Never be so kind / You forget to be clever Never be so clever / You forget to be kind

4. The story this one single fucking line tells in august:

I remember thinkin' I had you

5. mad woman is again filled with incredible writing but this always grabs me:

And you'll poke that bear 'til her claws come out And you find something to wrap your noose around

6. LWYMMD gets slated and I don't know why, she really threw herself all in to the campy villain bit look at this fucking writing:

But I got smarter, I got harder in the nick of time Honey, I rose up from the dead, I do it all the time I've got a list of names and yours is in red, underlined I check it once, then I check it twice, oh!

7. is this the saddest lyric in Swift's canon? maybe. fuck you scott bruschetta.

I didn't have it in myself to go with grace 'Cause when I'd fight, you used to tell me I was brave

8. cruel summer is <3 but this line is especially clever:

I don't wanna keep secrets just to keep you

9. there's enough spilled ink on the glorious storytelling of TLGAD so I'll just say the switch from she to I? flawless.

I had a marvelous time ruining everything

10. No one has ever captured the fragility of the start of new love this well. The contrast of cool/delicate in terms of vernacular and literary language is *chef's kiss*

Is it cool that I said all that? Is it too soon to do this yet? 'Cause I know that it's delicate

11. seven makes me go absolutely feral as I too feel girls are robbed of something as they grow

Please picture me in the weeds Before I learned civility I used to scream ferociously Any time I wanted

12. the way she writes about finding shelter in love on reputation, an album that is just so Dear to me but especially call it what you want:

And I know I make the same mistakes every time Bridges burn, I never learn At least I did one thing right

13. idk just fucking love this one from willow. like we have all these ideas and goals about what our lives will be then we fall in love with someone and realise we have to take them into it and everything might change, and that's ok (in contrast to the wave of you can have it all feminism)

Wreck my plans, that's my man

14. the noise i made when i first heard this:

They told me all of my cages were mental So I got wasted like all my potential

15. this is so evocative and the delivery is unreal:

And I was catching my breath Barefoot in the wildest winter Catching my death

16. remember when she wrote this and called the damn song happiness:

But now I'm right down in it, all the years I've given Is just shit we're dividin' up Showed you all of my hiding spots I was dancing when the music stopped And in the disbelief, I can't face reinvention

17. every single second of ivy but specifically,

I'd meet you where the spirit meets the bones

18. I could write a phd about the archer, but I won't. I'll just say that when Taylor said:

I wake in the night, I pace like a ghost The room is on fire, invisible smoke And all of my heroes die all alone Help me hold on to you

I lost my fucking mind. [XR name one hero who was happy from TSOA, and every writer and artists anxiety that they'll have to choose between art and happiness in love]

19. the fact that she wrote a song about cunnilingus already makes false god incredible but the way she wrote it as

religion's in your lips / the altar is my hips

ma'am,,,,

20. cardigan is lyrically fantastic around the central image of the cardigan itself, which I think distracts from knife cuts like:

Leavin' like a father Running like water And when you are young, they assume you know nothing

[side note there are very few father refs in Swift songs - see also 'a careless man's careful daughter']

21. turning her own Americana (remember those 4th of July parties) back on herself here, iconic Trump call out, etc.

American stories burning before me I'm feeling helpless, the damsels are depressed Boys will be boys then, where are the wise men? Darling, I'm scared

22. leaving you on number 22 with this absolute soul-destroyer from nothing new

Will you still want me when I'm nothing new?