#i would not say i know enough about him to have any feelings

[dollfacefantasy]

caleb x fem!reader

you and caleb used to play fight a lot, but things are different now that you're older

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, fauxcest, dry humping

a/n: um hehe just a small drabble cause i've been thinking... also i like the pipsqueak thing idgaf kiss me about it. imagine this takes place when she’s staying with him.

"isn't this around the time you'd usually cry mercy, pipsqueak?" he breathes, his smooth voice warming the air next to your ear.

a small grunt escapes you as you try to lift your arm to shove him off. your effort is pointless though. his grip tightens around your wrist, and he brings your limb back down to the floor without much effort.

“caleb, quit it!” you whine.

he just laughs at you. his body doesn’t move away an inch. he stays right where he his, hovering over your smaller frame.

the two of you used to play fight all the time as kids. you’d squabble over the remote or your toys. whiny arguments would morph into a small scuffle, a test of wills. so it felt natural today to lunge at him when he held the book you wanted to read just out of reach. getting physical made sense. you’d been so agitated with him keeping you here, you needed to blow off some steam. it just didn’t feel so good when reality set in as he wrestled you down to the floor like always.

“it’s not funny,” you say and try to jam your knee up into his abs.

he dodges the move and continues to smirk at you. “maybe not to you. but it’s pretty funny from up here. pretty cute too,” he teases.

you scowl, squirming some more. in your younger years, you’d always been able to fight back a little. you’d lose in the end, sure, but victory had been in reach a few times. now, caleb is stronger. he’s bigger, and he doesn’t fight like a scrappy high school kid but rather someone with training. you’re starting to realize you have no chance now, and part of you wonders if you ever did. or maybe he’d been going easy on you.

as if to taunt you, he slides your arms up above your head and grabs both your wrists with one hand. even with his other one free, he keeps you pinned with the same amount of force. it’s fucking humiliating. you feel your cheeks starting to heat up as he drags the back of his fingers along your jaw, cooing at you.

“you always used to get so angry like this too. so frustrated. you’d think you would’ve learned not to start fights you can’t win,” he mocks.

his thumb comes to sweep along your cheekbone, back in forth in slow strokes. he stares into your eyes while he does, almost studying you. it gets you heated for a whole other reason you don’t even want to acknowledge.

“get off of me,” you squeak, your voice much less aggressive now.

“maybe i will if you beg enough,” he taunts, “if you use your manners and say please like a good girl, i’ll consider it.”

“shut up!” you say. you kick a few more times and buck your hips to try and get loose.

in response, he grabs your hip with his free hand and slams it back to the ground. you let out a little growl, assuming you’ll have to restrategize. but then he pushes his pelvis down on top of yours.

you gasp. all the fight leaves you in a harsh blow because now, unlike any of the other times you play fought with him, you feel a solid bulge pressing between your legs.

your eyes widen, and you sputter. you’re sure you look totally stupid right now. but you don’t know what else to do. there’s no question about it. he’s got a boner, and he’s rubbing it right up against you.

“i told you. you’re not gonna win. might as well surrender,” he says. he speaks in a completely even tone, as if nothing is different.

“c-caleb. what are you doing?” you start, “don’t be weird.”

“i’m not being weird,” he defends with feigned innocence, “we always used to mess around like this. what’s got you all shy now?”

you know why he’s asking. because he knows you won’t say it. the answer is so easy, yet you can’t bring the words to leave your lips.

“you know what,” you whine softly.

he chuckles and leans in even closer to your face. “maybe i do. but i don’t think that it’s weird. we’re not kids anymore. you can’t whine and wriggle around like that and expect me not to react,” he murmurs.

your heart beats harder in your chest. you can feel every thump. before you can say anything in return, he grinds his hips again, rolling his hardened length right up against you. and this time, it feels good.

“i- caleb- we can’t,” you whimper, biting your lip.

“we can’t? we can’t what? we’re not doing anything,” he says before grinning at you, “it doesn’t count if it’s over the clothes.”

you want to smack him, but both your arms are still immobile.

“it’s still weird. we’ve never- i don’t see you like this,” you insist, though the last statement is a complete lie.

he tsks and shakes his head before pushing his erection between your legs for another time. this one draws a whine out of you. his hips jump forward at the sound, but he doesn’t let his face show that burst of desire.

“what do you see me like then?” he whispers.

silence fills the air between the two of you as you fail to answer. you know what you see him as. you know your crush on him goes back years. you know what fantasies fill your head at night when you’re alone.

but you also know how you want to see him. What you’re supposed to see him as. What you’ve tried to limit his role to for so long.

“it’s ok,” he finally says, “i won’t make you say it if it’s that hard. but i know you like this. i know you remember?”

he grinds against you again, but this time it’s not only once. now he sets himself into a rhythm, consistent swings of his hips against your center.

“i know when you’re happy, when you’re sad, when you’re ashamed,” he says, “i know when you want something, but you’re too scared to ask.”

ducking in, he kisses your neck. you moan in response, putting no effort into suppressing the noise now.

“that’s right, princess. your big brother knows you better than anyone, doesn’t he?” he coos mockingly.

“caleb!” you whine. you internally cringe at both titles, but outwardly, your face still contorts with pleasure.

“what?” he laughs, “that’s what you were gonna say before, wasn’t it?”

“but i didn’t,” you whimper.

“but you thought it, and it’s all the same to me,” he teases.

he refocuses his mouth on your neck again. his lips move over the column of your throat while his cock continues pressing right on your pussy. it feels better by the second. maybe it’s because he’s kissing your neck too, you’re not really sure. all you know is the hot, sparkling feeling in your stomach is building.

nipping at your pulse point, he then sucks on the skin like he wants to leave a mark. his tongue laves at it for a few moments before he pulls off.

“i’m gonna let go of your arms. you’re gonna behave, ok?” he mumbles against your skin.

“mhm,” you whimper and nod. the overt submission feels pathetic, but losing the feeling of him would be even worse.

“good girl,” he praises.

he keeps his word and releases his hold on your wrists. the air feels cool on your skin that’s all warmed up from his hands. now with his other arm in use, he can snake one around your ass and boost your hips. the new angle allows him to thrust against you harder.

“fuck, baby,” he grunts. you feel his lashes brush your neck as his eyes flutter.

your arms loop over his shoulders, pulling him impossibly closer. more little mewls spill from your lips. you can feel his stiff length sliding right up against your folds through your clothes. every swipe brings a blissful burst of friction to your poor throbbing clit.

“there you go. i got you. big brother’s got you,” he mumbles mindlessly. he chokes out a moan into your shoulder as his hips move like they have a mind of their own.

your body starts to squirm more. that hot feeling inside is reaching a boiling point. you clutch at his shirt, your nails digging in so hard they threaten to tear the fabric. the constant push and pull of his lower half is nearly hypnotic. it seems like you’ll be under him forever while also on the brink of letting go.

after a few moments more, he pulls back to look at you. his eyelids hang low, heavy with his desire for you.

“god, you’re so pretty. so fuckin’ beautiful now,” he says and presses his forehead to yours. his eyes shut while your breaths mingle. “i knew you wanted this too. just look at you. almost falling apart, and i haven’t even really touched you. i knew no one else could do this better.”

all you can do is whimper softly and cling to him harder. you pull on him as if trying to pull him into your body, to meld your two beings into one. the pressure down below feels dull and muted, but it’s blooming nonetheless.

“yeah… you’re gonna cum all over your pretty panties,” he mutters, “get ‘em all nice and wet so i can have some fun with ‘em later.”

“caleb…” you whine, useful words falling out of your grasp in this moment. one of your hands flies up and laces in his hair. your fingers clench into a fist, giving the strands a sharp tug.

he groans and bucks his hips extra hard. “c’mon. cum for me, baby. let me make my sweet little angel cum,” he murmurs.

it really doesn’t take much to get you there. the friction burn he’s rutting you both into works, and you feel yourself hit the high. euphoria rushes through you. a little breathy whine erupts from your lips. your back arches off the floor, but he keeps you cradled against him securely.

the whole time you’re cumming, he’s still humping you like his life depends on it. it’s when you start to come down, that he finally explodes. he buries his face in your neck, letting out the loudest moan you’ve heard so far. his arms tighten up around your frame as his fingers dig into your malleable flesh.

his hips jolt forward in random twitches now, chasing the last remnants of release while he spills inside his pants.

when he’s done, his breaths are harsh and labored. he nuzzles the crook of your neck before kissing your cheek and receding off your body. his palm runs over his face lazily.

“fuck, i gotta change now,” he says, not bothering to look down at the dark patch at the front of his pants.

without even really thinking about it, you reach forward for the waistline. you’re already craving more of him. but before your hand can get there, he takes your wrist.

“not so fast, pipsqueak. i think you should actually beat me before i let you have the real thing,” he smirks.

[vampzity]

1-800-hot & fun | BC

★ DAY TWELVE: PHONE SEX WITH BANGCHAN ★

pairing: best friend! bangchan x f! reader

after a long day of studio work, bangchan just wants to relax. except all he can think about is you. he tries to take care of it, only to get a call from you with complaints about the day you had. little did you know how much your voice turned him on.

[warnings]: MDNI 18+ !!!, smut, drabble, phone sex, masturbation, mentioning of circulation play, reader has no idea what chan’s doing, pet names (baby, babygirl)

word count: 1.4k

Bangchan sighed to himself as he leaned back in his chair, head thrown back with his eyes closed. He held his throbbing cock in his hand, jerking it softly as he scrolled through the countless photos he had of you.

They weren’t anything lewd, in fact it was far from that. Simply normal selfies you took and sent to him for his opinion on which to post.

He was beyond exhausted from today’s work in the studio, just wanting to wind down a bit before he took to the road. Though his mind was racing with sensual thoughts of you and it wouldn’t stop.

You two weren’t together— in fact he wasn’t even sure if you liked him, but he knew one thing for sure. Bangchan had the biggest crush on you, he just couldn’t bring himself to say anything. He wasn’t sure if he was being obvious about it, though one may say so with how possessive he was about you when the rest of the boys were around.

He scrolled through every photo of you, landing on a couple of pictures from your modeling gig. You had on light pink lingerie, lace that sat nicely upon your curves. The positions the camera caught you in were vulnerable, unlike anything he’s ever seen before. It was everything he imagined you to be.

Innocent and sexy.

Your doe eyes stared into his as he worked his angry cock, groaning at the thought of your plump lips around his tip. The way it would feel for you to suck him off as cum leaked out of him. How well he would train you to take his size into your mouth, the tears that would run down your cheek from his tip hitting the back of your throat.

He scrolled to the side, seeing a close up of your body in the lace outside. His eyes widened, heart racing as your tits sat nicely in the cupped bra, your cunt making a small pint in the fabric. The way the babydoll casted a slight shadow of your silhouette.

Bangchan was practically in heaven, his hand fastening its pace around his cock. He could feel himself about to burst at any moment, until he felt his phone buzz in his hand. Startled he quickly shoved his member into his pants and answered, clearing his throat to mask his previous situation.

“Hello?”

“Channie! You wouldn’t believe the type of day I’ve been having.”

Chan smiled at hearing your voice, as it’s been a while since you two have talked at all from your mix of busy schedules.

“Hey babygirl, what’s up?”

You scoffed on your side of the phone, rolling your eyes at his personal nickname for you.

“Well I got to the studio for my modeling gig and my coffee just fell!! It tasted perfect too like how upsetting is that,”

He listened to you ramble on, feeling his dick twitch in his pants as his mind started to race with thoughts of you once again. He thought about you in different types of lingerie, imagining how nicely your body must fit into them this time around.

He pulled his member from his pants, his tip leaking as it ached to be touched. He stroked it softly, throwing his head back in pleasure as he tried his best not to be heard.

“And if that wasn’t enough, my makeup is so splotchy. I think i’ll have to redo it too!”

Bangchan tightened his grip on his cock, fastening his strokes as he listened to your complaining whines. He tried his best to focus to what you were saying, but his mind was fogged with dirty thoughts of you. Dirty thoughts of you all over him, of him ripping that little lingerie off of you.

“Mmm, I’m sorry to hear that baby.”

A soft moan escaped him, making him freeze up in hopes that you didn’t hear him.

“Everything ok, Channie? Was it a rough day in the studio?”

He chuckled to himself slightly, his thumb rubbing across his leaky opening. He began stroking his cock again, twisting his hand with the motion.

“Yeah, yeah.” he panted heavily, watching as his cock leaked some more. “But hearing your voice made it better.”

You blushed softly, taking your phone and posing in the mirror. You took a picture of today’s outfit— one of many that you’d be wearing and sent it to Bangchan, eager for his reaction.

“What do you think? Too slutty?”

His jaw practically dropped at seeing you. His ears grew red, feeling as if the room was heating up from seeing you in such an outfit. The black polkadots weren’t nearly enough to cover how see through it was as your nipples still peeked through.

Bangchan stopped himself from groaning outloud, struggling to keep his composure toward you.

“You look beautiful as always.” He leaned over his desk, spotting your hair tie next to his computer.

He grabbed it, closing his eyes as he vowed to never give it back to you again. Especially not after what he was about to do. He placed the hair tie on his cock, a long sigh leaving his lips as it tightened around his length.

“Should model for me, yeah?”

“Huh? What do you mean?” you raised your eyebrow, unaware of what he meant. Chan quickly caught himself, trying to cover up the sultry meaning behind his sentence.

“My company, I mean you should model for my company.”

You laughed, going on a tangent about all the things wrong with his entertainment. As much as he’d like to listen, he just couldn’t. He was too drunk on the thought of you and your body in this newfound picture. Your pussy barely covertly the small piece of fabric, your tits practically spilling out of your bra.

He stroked faster, quicker, not stopping his movement as his cock throbbed in his hand. With every throb, every time it tried to swell, he could feel himself getting closer as your hair tie held him back.

And of course, you were still as oblivious to what was going on.

Bangchan quickly muted himself, setting his phone down as he groaned out in pleasure. His precum drooled down the side of his cock as he thrusted into his hand.

“Fuck, fuck baby.” he admired your picture once more before throwing his head back.

“Gotta cum all over that pretty face of yours one day.”

His groans soon fell into whimpers as he stroked faster. Your hair tie was suffocating him, making it harder for him to hold himself back. He imagined you in his head; thinking of you riding his cock while your tits bounced in front of his eyes.

He imagined how it would feel for your cunt to suffocate his dick in the same way while it pounded your sweet spot. He wondered how your sweet sounds would be, how much you’d beg as his tongue toyed with your swollen clit.

“Fuck, I would stuff you so good.”

That was all it took.

Within seconds his hand was covered in cum, dripping onto the chair as he slowed his strokes. His breath was staggered, heart racing and shaking ad he tried to bring himself back to reality.

“Channie?”

Oh fuck.

He quickly cleaned himself off, picking up the phone to answer you.

“I’m sorry.. I was trying to focus on this track we’ve been working on.”

He heard a small laugh come from the other end of the phone, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion as he tried to figure out what you could be laughing for.

“Yeah, and I bet you didn’t notice you were unmuted either, huh?”

His heart sank and his face flushed red. He froze, unsure of what to say to you as he was beyond embarrassed. You had no idea— maybe not even a thought of Bangchan ever liking you, as you always thought he’d seen you as a close friend.

Funny, since he had thought the same.

“You don’t have to apologize Channie.” you looked at the time on your phone, realizing you had to start your shoot soon.

“Maybe when I’m done here,” You bit your lip, thinking of the lewd sounds you heard coming from his end of the phone.

“I can stop by your place and give you what you want.”

Bangchan instantly agreed, his cock itching at the thought of being able to feel you, be in you. You giggled, sending him a farewell and hanging up the phone. His phone lit up with the precious picture of you in your lingerie, a small smile creeping onto his face.

He was about to see you dressed like this in person, right before his eyes and it would take everything in him not to rip it off of you.

back to valentine’s masterlist

a/n: day 12, this is a short one! if you haven’t noticed a change in the masterlist…. i’m planning some bonus days as a thank you to those who showed so much support to my series! :3

taglist: @dvrktvnnel @h4untedgrl @rvereri @scarfac3 @jjongibears @kittykat-25 @yyaurii @hwasddeongbyeoli @tiredlittlevirgo @joonezra @honeyhwaaa @evidive @potentialgay @dollywoo @losrpark @motherseonghwa23 @inniesfanblog @stephanieeeyang @galaxy4489 @nickgurl4life @fangirljas929 @desirehorizon @channiesluvrclub @bluesungology @katsukis1wife @unbel1ve4ble

★ comment to be added to the taglist or fill the detailed form here!

[fandoms-x-reader]

Apologize

Requested Anonymously

Headcannons

Summary: The brothers say something too harsh to MC so MC refuses to talk to them or interact with them. The Seven Demon Brothers x Reader Word Count: 8,242

It wasn’t unusual for Lucifer to get snappy with others.

He was constantly overworked and over exhausted and his brothers liked to cause as much trouble for him as possible.

But, no matter how tired he was, Lucifer always did his best to keep his composure around you.

He had been working really hard on a specific project for Lord Diavolo recently and you could see how tired he was.

You made frequent trips to his study, bringing him his favorite drink and massaging his shoulders whenever you could to try to help.

But, now Lucifer was barely able to keep his eyes open anymore and you couldn’t stand to see him like this.

You carefully approached him and gently rubbed his arm, taking a seat next to him. He didn’t even look up from his papers.

“Lucifer, I think you should take a break,” you told him honestly.

“I don’t have time for that Y/N,” he replied, continuing to work.

“At least for a little bit? A break would do you some good,” you tried again, and he let out an irritated sigh.

“I already told you, I don’t have time for that,” he reiterated, more annoyed this time. 

But, you were really worried about him, so you didn’t want to give up so easily.

“Lucifer,” you began again and he slammed his hand down on his desk making you let out a small gasp.

“What I’m doing is important and I need to concentrate, so if you’re just going to keep pestering me then just leave because, at this point, all you are is a nuisance,” he stated coldly.

You looked at him for a moment, feeling the sting of his words but not knowing how to react. He didn’t even care enough to see that his words had hurt you.

“Fine,” you muttered before getting up and leaving his study.

 Lucifer was really in the thick of it with work so he didn’t even realize the words that he had said and how they must have hurt you until later.

He was still in his study and he sat back in his chair, rolling shoulders as he let out a small groan of pain. They were sore from spending so much time in the same position. Usually, you would try and massage them to help prevent them from getting to this point.

He then looked down at his teacup and noticed that it was completely empty and had been for a while. But, you always made sure to bring him his favorite drink so that he could continue to work.

That’s when Lucifer began thinking back to the last time he saw you enter his study and what happened the last time. 

He let out a deep sigh as he replayed the words he had said to you in his head. Surely, you knew that he didn’t mean them, right? He loved you and you had to know that.

He wanted nothing more than to go and apologize to you but he had to keep working. It was his responsibility.

Meanwhile, you avoided Lucifer’s study at all costs. You were just trying to help Lucifer and if he couldn’t see that then you didn’t have anything else to say to him.

Lucifer only lasted one day without seeing you when he started to grow concerned. He tried sending you a couple of text messages, not wanting to leave his study, but he was met with crickets and he couldn’t stand it any longer.

He had reached a point in the project where, perhaps, he could take a small break and he immediately went to your bedroom, knocking on your door.

There was no answer and while he was tempted to break it down to make sure you weren’t in there ignoring him, he kept his composure.

You had just come back from the kitchen, a drink in hand when you saw Lucifer standing in front of your bedroom door.

You stopped in your tracks as the two of you made eye contact and you took in his appearance.

He looked even more miserable than he did the last time you saw him.

Neither of you said anything for a few moments, just staring at each other.

After another moment, you spun on your heels, trying to retreat back to the kitchen.

Lucifer was in front of you in an instant, inches away from you and the close proximity itself was enough to start revitalizing him.

“Are you avoiding me?” he asked, his deep voice wanting to make you swoon after not hearing it for an entire day. But, you stood your ground.

“Why shouldn’t I be? Since I’m just a nuisance to you and all,” you replied, your eyes filled with noticeable seriousness and hurt.

It took a lot to make Lucifer falter, but when you threw his words to you back at him, he nearly winced as if you slapped him.

He took a step closer to you before telling you, “You know that I don’t really think that.”

You let out a small sigh as you looked down to the ground and Lucifer realized that maybe he had really messed up this time. Maybe you really didn’t know how he truly felt about you. 

He gently raised your chin with one of his gloved hands so that you were looking at him before gently pressing his lips on yours in an intimate kiss.

When he pulled away, his eyes locked with you as he told you, “You could never be a nuisance to me, because I love you.”

And those were the words you were waiting to hear - the ones that always made you swoon even if you were mad at him.

“Please, come back and join me in my study,” he asked, his hand dropping down to interlace his fingers with yours.

Under his intense gaze, you couldn’t help but feel your resolve cracking as you allowed him to lead you to his study.

Once there, you told Lucifer, “You still have some making up to do.” Lucifer smirked slightly at your words before sitting down on his chair and pulling you into his lap.

You nearly spilled your drink at his actions and his smirk only grew. “I still have some work to do, but this way, I can pay attention to you as well,” he told you, one arm wrapping around you to keep you in place while the other continued to write on the document in front of him.

You opened your mouth to reply, but Lucifer continued to speak before you could, his lips inches from your ear as he told you, “Then, when I’m done with this, you can have my full attention.”

Mammon had just completed a long photoshoot for a magazine that wanted him to be his model.

It was a lot of work, but the paycheck was worth it and he already knew what he wanted to do with it. Take you on a date!

Mammon was so excited to take you out that you couldn’t help but say yes.

He was always in a good mood whenever he came into money, no matter how that may be, but it was even better when he got to spend time with you because of it.

He had a whole plan to take you to a traveling carnival that was passing through the Devildom and the two of you left almost immediately.

The carnival was a lot bigger than you were expecting, filled with rides, food stalls, thrill acts and so much more.

You had been enjoying your time with Mammon there and it was one of the rare times that you got to see him drop his act and just be himself around you without the worry of one of his brothers being around.

He was even holding your hand the entire time, a small blush coating his cheeks as he tried to play the action off like it was no big deal.

After going on one of the more thrilling rides, the two of you decided to take a break and you sat down on a nearby bench as you watched one of the acts that was performing.

Your head rested against Mammon’s shoulder and this thumb traced circles on the back of your hand.

Suddenly, a random demon appeared sitting right next to Mammon and looking at the two of you. 

You raised your head to pay attention, confused as to what he wanted and the demon leaned in closer, talking in a quiet voice. Mammon was about to tell him to get lost when the demon spoke. 

“You’re Mammon, the Avatar of Greed, right?” the demon asked with hope in his eyes.

You and Mammon shared a look, questioning how this demon knew Mammon and that was all the confirmation he needed.

“I knew it!” he said with a smile before adding, “Please, sir, follow me and I’ll lead you to the undercover casino.”

Mammon’s eyes widened at his words. “Undercover casino?” Mammon asked. He didn’t know there would be one at this carnival.

“Yes, you’re one of our best patrons. If you come with me, we can treat you to the full service,” the demon replied and you could practically see Mammon’s eyes light up with gold.

“Mammon, I don’t think we should-,” you tried to say but you were cut off by him jumping up, a large smile on his face.

“Lead the way!” Mammon said and the demon lit up as he began showing the two of you the way.

“Mammon, I think this is a bad idea,” you told him and he gave your hand a small squeeze.

“Don’t worry! We’ll only stay for a few minutes,” he replied, and you let out a small sigh. It was never a few minutes.

And you were right, just like you knew you would be. The two of you were there for at least an hour as Mammon’s train of thought was completely taken over by his greed.

“I’m sorry, sir, but if you want to keep playing, you’ll have to put up more money,” the dealer stated and Mammon searched his wallet for more. Empty. 

“Y/N, loan me some money, will ya’?” Mammon asked and you could feel yourself start to get annoyed. 

“Mammon, you already lost all of the money you earned from that job. Let’s just call it a night,” you tried to reason with him, but his lips turned into a frown.

“C’mon, don’t be such a killjoy. I’m gonna win big this time, I know it!” Mammon tried to convince you, but you were done with the casino.

“Mammon, we should go home,” you stated more firmly.

“I spent the whole night doin’ what you wanted, so the least you could do is spend some time doin’ what I want!” Mammon argued.

His words cut you, but you tried to gain control of the situation. “Mammon-,” you tried once again but he cut you off with a loud groan of frustration.

“If I wanted someone to ruin my fun then I would have taken Lucifer,” Mammon stated before muttering, “Jeez, I don’t even know why I took ya’ out in the first place.”

Your heart dropped at his words as you felt tears sting your eyes, but you wouldn’t let him see them fall. Fine.

You searched through your things to find your money and handed it to Mammon who had a large smile on his face at the sight of it. “Bet as much as you want. I’m going home,” you stated before walking away and back to the House of Lamentation.

Just as you knew, once again, Mammon lost all of the money you had given him and now he had nothing left.

He looked around the casino for you and when he couldn’t find you, he started calling you and texting you. Did you really leave?

As the money-hungry fog started to lift from his mind, Mammon was able to start thinking clearly and he realized just how badly he had messed up. 

He continued to try to call you as he made his way back to the House of Lamentation, but you refused to answer his calls.

When he got to the house, he immediately went to your room and knocked on your bedroom door, but he was met with more silence.

He tried to get you to open the door the entire night but when he realized you weren’t going to, he sulked back to his room. How was he supposed to fix this if you wouldn’t talk to him?

Your silent treatment continued for the next few days. You wouldn’t talk to him at RAD and you would lock him out of your room before he had a chance to talk to you back at the House of Lamentation.

Mammon was growing more and more depressed about it too. He wasn’t sleeping, he was barely eating, and he felt like there was nothing he could do about it.

You had purposefully been only leaving your room at times when you thought Mammon would be out of the house or asleep.

It was too painful to see after the things he said to you when you were just trying to keep him from getting further into debt.

It was a little after midnight when you decided to go to the kitchen to get some food. You managed to make it to the fridge with no problem, but right as you grabbed the item you wanted, Mammon suddenly entered.

The two of you looked at each other in shock, neither one of you expecting the other to be there.

You wanted nothing more than to go back to your room, but he was blocking the exit.

“Uh…hi,” Mammon said, looking down at the ground. He was nervous and under any other circumstance, you would feel a little bad for him.

He didn’t say anything else, so you decided to try to push past him to get back to your room.

But as you passed him, Mammon gently grabbed your arm. “Wait,” he said, finally bringing himself to look at you and you paused to listen to what he had to say.

He was bad at speeches so he said the first thing that came to his mind. “I miss ya’.”

And his puppy dog eyes and those words that sounded so sad were enough to almost make you cave. Almost.

Mammon could tell it wasn’t enough so he continued to say, “I’m sorry about what I said. You’re the only one I want to go out with and I don’t know why ya’ even agreed to go out with me,” he told you honestly and you could see the heartbreak in his eyes, shattering the walls that you had put up.

You gently reached up and cupped his cheek with one of your hands and he immediately leaned into your touch. 

You pulled away after a moment and began walking to your room, leaving a very confused Mammon standing there.

You turned back to face him when you realized he wasn’t following you and you motioned towards your room before asking, “Are you coming?”

He got a big smile at your words and he nodded his head, letting you lead him to your room.

As soon as you shut the door, Mammon engulfed you in his arms, pulling you onto the bed and refusing to let go.

You let yourself melt in his embrace before telling him, “No more gambling on dates.”

He gently pressed his lips to yours before replying, “Promise.”

There were a few things that Levi was uptight about and those things usually had something to do with either his anime, manga, or videogames.

Other than those things, Levi was usually pretty nonchalant. He didn’t care what others did or didn’t do and he didn’t complain if they didn’t spend time with him.

He just usually did his own thing and you admired him for that.

It didn’t take long for you and Levi to start hanging out, common interests bringing the two of you together.

And Levi soon found that he was going against all of his beliefs as a shut-in. He was starting to actually care about what others did. Well, about what one person did in particular.

Things that Levi used to love to do by himself didn’t seem as fun when you weren’t around, so he tried to invite you over as much as he possibly could.

You didn’t mind at all because Levi usually invited you to do something you liked doing anyway.

Levi never had someone that liked the same things he liked as much as you did, which is probably what added to his infatuation of spending time with you.

And it was like a secret that only the two of you shared, or a language that only the two of you knew how to speak.

Or, that’s how Levi thought of it until he caught you and Solomon talking at RAD.

You had mentioned one of your and Levi’s favorite games to Solomon and he had, surprisingly, known about it.

So the two of you started talking about all your favorite characters and mechanics of the game. 

In your defense, it was a completely innocent conversation between friends, but Levi didn’t see it that way.

What he saw is the way you smiled at Solomon as he spoke, in a way that Levi only wanted you to look at him.

And what he heard was the way you sweetly laughed at Solomon’s jokes, with a laugh that was supposed to be reserved for his ears.

And then, you invited Solomon to come over to the House of Lamentation and play the game with you and Levi.

His sin had taken over him faster than he could process what was happening and he stood in between you and Solomon in his demon form, a very unhappy look on his place.

“Levi? Are you okay?” you asked him, worried when you saw the form he was in.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked you, sending a glance to Solomon.

“We were just talking,” you replied, confused as to what he was getting at.

“You invited him to play our game!” Levi snapped back and you and Solomon shared a look as you realized why he might be upset.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think it would be a big deal,” you replied honestly. Solomon and Levi were friends and Solomon had come over lots of time to play games with Levi, so why should this time be any different?

But your words seemed to only set Levi off more as his insecurities got the better of him.

“Well, it might not seem like a big deal to you but it’s a big deal to me,” he replied and you could hear the hurt in his voice. The conversation was spiraling and you didn’t know how to stop it.

“Levi, I didn’t mean anything by that,” you tried to reason but he was too far in his head down.

“This is what I get I guess,” he stated and you looked at him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you questioned. 

“It means I never should have tried to be friends with some lame normie who doesn’t care about anyone but themselves,” Levi snapped back and this time it was your turn to be hurt.

“Let’s all calm down,” Solomon interjected, trying to de-escalate the situation and Levi’s demon form caught the attention of Lucifer. Levi knew furthering the fight would only get him involved, so he backed down.

“Whatever,” Levi muttered before walking away and Solomon turned to you. 

“Are you okay?” Solomon asked you and you replied with a short, “I’m fine.”

You went back to the House of Lamentation with the full intention of avoiding Levi and giving him the silent treatment, which was all too easy to do because he didn’t leave his room after the fight.

You were both getting more and more miserable as you spent time apart, but Levi was upset because he thought you liked Solomon and you were upset because of what he said to you so neither of you were ready to apologize.

After about a week of the two of you not speaking, it was starting to affect everyone else as well.

Solomon decided to do something about it since he was technically involved.

He came to Levi’s room, fully expecting Levi to not answer the door; but, he had.

Truth be told, Levi had only opened it in the hopes that you would be on the other side but he was largely disappointed when he saw Solomon standing there.

“What are you doing here?” Levi asked and Solomon gave him an innocent smile.

“I was hoping to talk to you for a moment,” Solomon replied. 

“About what?” Levi asked and Solomon’s expression turned to a serious one.

“About Y/N,” he replied and at the mention of your name, a blush rose to Levi’s cheeks.

“I don’t want to talk about them,” Levi replied, attempting to shut the door to his room but Solomon stopped him.

“Please, just listen,” Solomon said and Levi, having no choice, let him continue.

“The only reason that Y/N and I were talking about the game was because they were telling me how much they’ve been enjoying playing it with you,” Solomon told Levi. 

“So?” Levi asked and Solomon wanted to roll his eyes at the oblivious demon.

“They were telling me about how much they’ve been enjoying spending time with you,” Solomon tried to further clarify.

Something clicked in Levi’s mind this time and his cheeks burned a furious red as he understood what Solomon was trying to say. 

He quickly slammed the door on Solomon’s face to process the new information on his own and then he felt like a total idiot for snapping at you.

It only took him a few more minutes to show up at your door, nervously knocking on it. 

You opened it a few moments later and Levi saw his own miserableness reflected on you. 

“I…I know I messed everything up a-and you’ll probably never forgive me. But, I wanted to say I’m sorry and ask if you wanted to play some games,” Levi said practically in one breath before he could chicken out of it. 

He held your favorite game in his hands along with some snacks, hoping that you would let him in.

“Why would you want to spend time with a lame normie like me?” you asked and Levi winced at your words. He deserved that.

He let out a defeated sigh, casting his gaze down at the floor before telling you, “Because I don’t think you're lame. You’re the most amazing person I know. But, if you don’t want to play that’s fine, I’ll just leave you alone.”

His dejected look pulled at your heartstrings and you couldn’t help but stop him by gently grabbing his arms.

He looked back at you with hopeful eyes and you told him, “Maybe we can play for a little bit.”

Levi immediately rushed into your room, a bright smile on his face that was contagious as he set everything up.

This was only the beginning of his apology and he was going to make sure he made up for what he said.

And maybe, just maybe, along with an apology he could also confess his feelings for you.

Out of all the demon brothers, Satan was the best at holding a grudge.

After all, he had been holding once against Lucifer for his entire life. 

Satan was a classy demon but he was equally stubborn and if he didn’t want to back down from a fight, there was no making him do so.

So, when the two of you got into a fight, you knew that it was going to be one with lasting consequences.

Satan had invited you on a day trip that involved a long train ride both to and from the destination. 

He didn’t want you to be bored so he offered to lend you one of his books.

Everything was going so perfectly and it was a very romantic outing filled with sweet nothings and intimate moments.

But, then the time to go back home came and that’s when it all started falling apart.

You were frantically trying to search your bag for the book that Satan had lent you while you waited for the train to arrive, but you couldn’t find it anywhere.

 Satan noticed your frantic movements beside him and he raised an eyebrow as he looked at you. 

“What are you looking for?” he asked you as you continued to search.

“Your book,” you replied, and the content expression that was on his face moments before dropped as he felt a flicker of anger inside of him.

“The book I let you borrow?” Satan asked as you closed your bag with a frustrated sigh.

“Yes. I’m sorry, Satan, I must have left it on the train when we got off it,” you told him, a contrite expression on your face. You felt awful.

“How could you be so careless?” Satan asked and you were taken aback by his words.

“I didn’t mean to,” you argued but Satan’s wrath was only growing further and once he went down this road, it was almost impossible to stop.

“That was one of my favorite books! I only let you borrow it as a gesture of kindness,” he stated.

“Satan, I told you I was sorry. I’ll buy you another copy when we get back,” you responded.

“It won’t be the same,” he snapped back, refusing to look at you now.

“I think you’re overreacting,” you replied and you knew those words were a mistake because if he wasn’t angry before, that definitely set him off.

The two of you engaged in a very heated exchange as others looked on and the only thing that stopped you was the arrival of the train.

You and Satan refused to talk to each other the whole way back and you sat in anger and embarrassment for causing such a big scene.

You immediately went to your separate rooms as soon as you got back to the House of Lamentation and you were left to wonder how such a simple thing could ruin not only the way back but the entire trip when the two of you had been so happy together moments before that.

Satan could admit to himself that he may have overreacted a bit, but admitting it to you was a completely different story. And, you believed that you already apologized so what else was there to say?

Which left the two of you at an impasse. You wouldn’t speak to each other or even look at each other despite the ache you had for each other.

The others had heard about what happened and tried to get the two of you to talk. After all, they all agreed that you were fighting over something trivial, but neither you nor Satan gave in.

It wasn’t until the two of you got stuck in a situation a couple of weeks later that he realized how stupid the argument was.

Satan was reading in the library at the House of Lamentation and you walked in to grab your own book, not expecting him to be there.

As soon as you saw him, you averted your gaze, focusing on finding the book you were looking for.

Satan kept occasionally glancing at you while you searched, but he didn’t say anything.

Finally, you found the book you were looking for, but it was in a stack of books on top of one of the bookshelves.

You were struggling to reach it and could use some help. Specifically from a demon who was already there.

Satan kept his eyes on his book, a smug smile threatening to form as he knew you needed help and would have to talk to him to ask him for it.

But, you refused to give him the satisfaction, so you tried to grasp it yourself, causing them all to tumble.

You let out a gasp of pain as they fell on top of you, one of the larger ones hitting you in the head and knocking you out.

Satan was on his feet the instant he saw what happened and he quickly approached you with worry in his eyes.

You had a small cut on your forehead that was bleeding and when he saw that you were knocked out, the guilt instantly flooded him. He should’ve just helped you.

He carried you to his bedroom and treated the small cut on your forehead before sitting next to you, watching you sleep.

He wouldn’t be able to rest until he knew for a fact that you were okay.

A little while later, you began to stir and when you fluttered your eyes open, you were met with concerned, green ones.

“How are you feeling?” he asked you immediately and you slowly began to remember what happened. 

“My head hurts,” you admitted and he nodded his head, handing you some pain medicine.

You took it gratefully and as it fell silent, you realized Satan had just talked to you.

Your eyes widened as you turned to look at him again. He must have known what you were thinking because he let out a small sigh before climbing into the bed with you and pulling you into him.

You moved your head back just a bit so that you could look at him.

“I’m sorry for overreacting and for calling you careless,” he told you as he lovingly looked into your eyes, gently brushing some of your hair out of your face before leaving his fingers tangled in it.

“I’m sorry for losing your book,” you replied, savoring every moment of the touch you had craved.

“I can always get another copy,” he reassured you, gently pressing a kiss to your forehead before telling you, “You’re what I’m afraid of losing more than anything. I can’t ever get another copy of you and I wouldn’t want it.”

You pressed a soft kiss to his lips before replying, “I’m not going anywhere.”

Satan smiled at you before pulling you onto his chest so that he could hold you.  

Asmo was quick and witty when he wanted to be.

His greatest fighting tactic was his words and everyone knew that.

He could be mean to those who deserved it - but you would never deserve it.

You would never be on the opposite end of Asmo’s repartee because he simply loved you too much.

So, when Asmo said something to you that had crossed the line, he didn’t even realize it until after he said the words.

You had been having a particularly rough day and you sought Asmo out for some comfort.

He immediately suggested that the two of you have a spa day. It was the perfect way to relax!

Of course, Asmo was already fully prepared for a last-minute spa day.

He told you to just sit back and relax while he got everything ready. He knew that you would need extra pampering that day so he wanted to give you the full treatment.

And Asmo was the best at pampering you - but because of the rough day you had, you were on edge.

While doing different things, Asmo would make small comments about how you could improve certain aspects of your hair and skin routine.

Things like - your hair feels a little dry, you should try using a better conditioner. Or, your skin’s starting to look wrinkly, you need to start a better skincare routine.

To him, these comments were all coming from a place of love. He was just trying to give you advice since he had tried almost every beauty product known to the world.

But with you already being frustrated, the comments started to sound more like nagging; and, they began making you feel a bit self-conscious.

Wanting to avoid an argument, you suggested stopping the spa for now, but when Asmo kept pressing you for the reason, you snapped slightly. 

The small argument quickly blew up into a bigger one and Asmo resorted to using his quick wit as a defense mechanism.

By the end of it, you had both said things you didn’t mean and you had left his room quickly, seeking solidarity in your own.

Asmo was the biggest attention seeker in the entire house, so he doesn’t take being ignored or avoided by anyone very well.

But he especially doesn’t take it well when it’s coming from you - the person he loves the most.

The day after the two of you fought, he expected you to be mad, but he had already prepared an apology for that.

The thing about Asmo is that he’s not afraid to apologize for something he did if he feels like he was in the wrong, unlike some of the other brothers.

Besides, the sooner he apologized, the sooner the two of you could make up. And that was his favorite part of any argument.

But, with you not speaking to him and avoiding him at all costs, how was he supposed to apologize?

Asmo only lasted one day of you ignoring him before he was at your door, tears in his eyes begging you to talk to him.

He was very dramatic with his begging, but with how dramatic Asmo usually was, it was par for the course.

If you let him in, he’ll immediately hug you, his arms wrapping around you tightly while he rests his head in the crook of your neck, crying as he apologizes as many times as it takes for you to forgive him.

He didn’t mean to say those things - he would never hurt you on purpose. It was just in the heat of the moment. He’s a very passionate guy after all.

Those are things he’ll tell you, his lips brushing against your skin as he says it, his hands sliding down just a little past what would be considered proper.

All things he knew would chip away at your walls.

He knew everything about you, especially when it came to things you liked. Things that made you cave no matter the situation.

Your resolve was shaky now and Asmo knew it, gently placing kisses on your neck and you subconsciously leaned into his touch, ever so slightly exposing more of your skin to him.

“Asmo,” you warned as he continued his kisses. You wanted to be mad at him, and you wanted to sound mad. But, your walls were crumbling under his touch and when his name left your lips, it was filled with love instead of anger.

A hint of a smile formed on his lips as he heard his name and he looked into your eyes, his eyes drawing you in even more.

“You’ll forgive me, won’t you Y/N?” he asked innocently - far too innocently for the thoughts currently running through his mind.

His lips were inches from yours and you let out a small sigh before closing the gap between the two of you, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to resist him. 

You supposed you could let him off with a warning this time. After all, you were the one who snapped first.

Asmo wouldn’t hold it against you though. All that mattered was that the two of you made up.

Beel was absolutely panicking when he realized that you weren’t speaking to him and were avoiding him at all costs.

Mostly because he had no idea what he had done wrong and since you weren’t talking to him, he couldn’t even ask you.

It must have been something bad given the silent treatment. But, he couldn’t even think of something small he might have done - let alone something big enough for you to give him the silent treatment.

He thought about the last time the two of you interacted.

You were in his room with him, and he had pulled you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you.

Your head was pressed against his chest as he held you close, a peaceful smile resting on his face.

He felt content and slowly but surely drifted off. 

The next thing he knew, you had moved off him in a rush, exiting his bedroom before he could get a word out and you had been avoiding him ever since.

But, you had a very different recollection of what had happened.

You were cuddling against Beel as previously stated, and you were feeling content as well. Everything just felt right when you were in his arms.

But, only a few minutes into cuddling Beel told you, “I don’t know why we’re still doing this.”

Your eyes immediately snapped open as you tried to process what Beel had just said.

“What?” you asked softly.

His hand was tangled in your hair, holding your head in place, so you couldn’t look up at him to see if he was being serious or not.

“I think this pointless,” he murmured again and your heart skipped a beat. He couldn’t really mean that, right?

“Beel,” you tried to say, but you were cut off by him continuing to speak.

“I think you should go,” he added and you decided to listen to him, pushing yourself off of him and going to your room, locking the door.

You hated that he could hold you so lovingly while he simultaneously broke up with you.

Seeing him was painful so you avoided him at all costs and you didn’t want to hear any excuse he might have so you refused to speak to him.

Beel had been doing everything he could to get your attention, but he failed at every attempt.

The lack of your presence had taken a toll on him. He had been feeling sad and lonely and he missed you more than anything.

Not to mention, he had seen you looking upset and he wanted to know what happened. He wanted to know why you were sad because he hated seeing it.

He would do anything to make you happy, he just wished you would let him help. Whatever it was - he could fix it.

He only lasted a couple of weeks without you before he decided he had to do something.

So one day when you had just gotten home from RAD, he picked you up and carried you to his room, shutting the door and blocking it with his body, despite your many protests.

He knew that his strength overpowered yours so you wouldn’t be able to push past him.

You could use the pact against him to get him to move, but he was hoping you wouldn’t resort to that - he just wanted to talk.

When you realized that Beel had you trapped you let out a sigh, sitting down on his bed. You couldn’t avoid him forever.

“What do you want, Beel?” you asked him, looking anywhere but him. And the way you said his name angrily instead of the affectionate way you used to say it hurt.

But just hearing your voice, even if you sounded mad, was like a breath of fresh air.

He moved closer to you, his big puppy dog eyes, staring at you with so much love as he tried to figure out what to say.

“You seem sad,” he told you, carefully sitting down on the bed next to you and you let out a scoff.

“Of course I’m sad,” you replied and he furrowed his eyebrows as he looked at you.

“Why?” he asked innocently and you looked at him incredulously.

When he saw the look you were giving him, he asked, “Did I do something? Is that why you won’t talk to me?”

And now your eyebrows furrowed in confusion because he wasn’t making any sense.

“You broke up with me,” you stated simply and his eyes widened as he stared at you in disbelief. He would never.

Seeing the look of confusion on his face, you decided to recount the details of that day, telling him everything he said to you.

And his expression went from one of confusion to understanding as he realized what had happened.

Beel had a dream after he fell asleep cuddling you. The usual suspect - Mammon - was trying to get Beel to do something he didn’t want to do. He remembered saying all of those things to his brother in his dream - but he didn’t have any recollection of saying them out loud.

“What?” you asked as he finished talking. He was asleep?! 

A small blush coated your cheeks as you realized that you never looked at him. He kept you in place at first and then you were so upset that you walked out without sparing another glance towards him.

Beel pulled you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you the same way he did that day, holding you close to him.

“I love you so much. I would never break up with you,” he told you quietly, hoping that you would accept what he was saying as the truth.

You immediately melted into his touch as you realized it was all a big misunderstanding and your skin felt hot wherever his met yours.

Beel let out a deep breath of relief when you began to relax and he was determined to never let you go again.

The last couple of weeks had been hard on both of you and if nothing else, it was only proof as to how much you loved each other.

He just hoped that his dreams never interfered with your relationship again.

Like Satan, Belphie is one of the most stubborn when it comes to apologizing or admitting he was wrong about something.

He handles issues with the silent treatment in the hopes that they’ll either resolve themselves or simply go away.

He’s never been one for taking the initiative and he’s even less motivated to do so when it comes to an argument.

The two of you had been bickering more than usual thanks to the eldest brother.

Belphie had been slacking off a little too much at RAD in favor of napping and it was starting to affect Lucifer.

He had tried to ask Beel to help his twin brother keep up with his studies, but there was only so much that he could do.

If Belphie didn’t want to do something, then, simply put, he wasn’t going to do it - no matter who Lucifer sicced on him.

But, still, Lucifer asked you to try since you had a bond that was both very different yet equally as important as Beel’s bond to Belphie.

You didn’t want to do it - plain and simple. You knew that it would put you in a hard place with Belphie.

But, as the human exchange student, you couldn’t help but feel like part of your responsibility was to help the demon brothers.

And whether Belphie believed it or not, you were just trying to help him. You knew that if he didn’t get caught up with his studies, the punishment from Lucifer would be much worse than your nagging.

But, after a few days' worth of you waking Belphie up to beg him to do his homework, both of you were getting fed up with it.

Belphie kept complaining about how you sounded like Lucifer and you kept telling him he was acting like a brat.

It didn’t get much further than that though until one night when Belphie decided to be particularly stubborn.

You came into his room just like you had been doing, but it didn’t matter what you did, Belphie refused to get up.

You tried to reason with him, you tried to remind him of what Lucifer would do if he didn’t get up, you even tried to bribe him, but nothing worked.

You sat next to the bed for a while as you tried to figure out your last step, and then an idea popped into your head.

You hated it because you knew that Belphie would hate it, but he left you no choice.

After preparing yourself and running through your plan multiple times, you got up and looked at Belphie who was sleeping peacefully.

You let out a small sigh before leaning closer and grabbing his favorite pillow that he was lying on as well as his favorite blanket.

In an instant, you had snatched them and ran off with them, seeking refuge in your room.

You had barely gotten your door locked when you heard Belphie trying to get into your room.

“Y/N, open the door,” Belphie said, as calmly as he could, but he was already mad.

“You need to do your homework, Belphie,” you replied.

“Just give me my blanket and pillow back,” he responded.

“After you finish your homework,” you reiterated, internally sighing at the situation. You didn’t want to act like his parent and you silently cursed Lucifer for asking you to do this in the first place.

“Ugh, you’re being so annoying!” Belphie snapped, but you were expecting some backlash about this situation.

“You’ll be thanking me later when you don’t have to deal with Lucifer,” you stated and you heard him let out another frustrated sigh.

“This is exactly why I hate humans,” Belphie stated, more to himself than anything, but you heard it loud and clear.

His eyes widened slightly when you opened the door to your bedroom, a look of hurt on your face.

He opened his mouth to take it back but he was cut off by you roughly shoving the blanket and pillow into him before slamming the door in his face and locking it again.

Belphie knew that he went too far so he decided to give you some time to cool off.

The next time he saw you he promised himself he would make it up to you.

But when he saw you next, you refused to look at Belphie, let alone talk to him. And that made Belpie annoyed all over again.

“You’re being childish,” he told you, only furthering your anger towards him.

“Says the one who can’t even be responsible and do their homework without someone breathing down their neck!” you snapped back.

The two of you didn’t talk after that for a long time - too long in the brothers’ opinions.

They knew that you and Belphie were too stubborn to talk to each other on your accord, so they decided to take things into their own hands.

You were sitting on your bed reading when suddenly the door to your bedroom burst open.

You looked up to see Belphie being shoved inside against his will by Beel before he shut the door, making sure to stand guard so Belphie couldn’t leave.

Belphie had a small pout on his face that, despite still being mad at him, you thought looked adorable.

He let out a small sigh, avoiding all eye contact as he did his best to come up with a way to get out of this situation.

The two of you sat in silence for a while, but you both knew it was pointless. Neither of you were leaving until you talked to each other.

Belphie was the master at winning arguments, but just this once, he asked himself what the point of it was. He cared about you way more than winning the argument.

“You know I don’t hate you,” he said quietly, still keeping his eyes anywhere but on you as he spoke.

Your eyes immediately went to him. Was that his version of an apology?

“I was only trying to help you, Belphie,” you explained and he gave you a defeated look.

“I know,” he replied. That’s why this whole argument is pointless.

Belphie moved over to your bed now and sat down next to you, the two of you making eye contact for the first time in what felt like forever.

“I caught up on all my studies,” he added and you let out a breath of relief. At least you wouldn’t have to worry about that anymore.

You were the first to reach out, gently taking his hand in yours. You stared at your intertwined fingers before softly saying, “I missed you.”

His eyes widened slightly as he took in the sight of you, all feelings of the fight disappearing. He was just happy to be in your presence again.

Belphie moved quickly, wrapping you up in his arms and pulling you down into the bed.

“Bel-!” you shouted in surprise but you were cut off by him placing a finger to your lips.

You were laying chest to chest, his face only inches from yours, his arms keeping you there.

“If they hear us talking, they’ll come in; and, I’d rather not be interrupted for a while,” Belphie told you with a sly smirk before placing his lips on yours.

You immediately returned the kiss, a smile forming at the feeling.

No matter what you or Belphie said in the heat of the moment, you knew that your love for each other would never change.

[monstersflashlight]

Lusty for love

A/N: Happy Valentine's Day!

Cupid (monster) x fem!witch reader || sex pollen, (light) dub con, breeding, oral sex, dirty talk, praise kink

You were stupid. A bit more stupid than normal at least.

You were trying to get some new potions to work when you accidentally spilled the pink powder he gifted you specially for lust potions. The pink powder was obtained from the cupid species, they produced it on their wings and any human or monster would instantly fall into a lustful frenzy once they touched it. And that’s why it was so hard to get, they had to give it to you specifically with a very clear intent of lust...

Your cupid friend gave it to you as a birthday present, and you were supposed to drop an itty bitty quantity in each potion because every time someone used the powder, he would feel it. You promised not to use much, always controlling how many potions you’d make… But you weren’t expecting for it to slip your fingers and pretty much cover your whole body. Your skin was tingling and your brain was barely coherent when you dialed his number.

“I need your help,” you whispered against the speaker, not letting him even say hello.

His response was instantaneous: “What happened?” You could hear him batting his wings in the background, and you were sure he was already mid air coming to get you. He must have felt the powder activating.

“I- I dropped the pink powder on me,” you confessed, your breathing labored and your skin tingly.

Fuck, you were about to burst and you didn’t even move. You’d never felt such intensity before, it was like every inch of your body was electrified and caressed at the same time, even the touch of the clothes over your body felt erotic.

“Fuck,” he cursed. The air against the phone was enough to know he was rushing to your house, his wings almost deafening in the background.

“Please, please…” You barely made sense, your brain was fuzzy in a way that made your clit tingle and your panties were so wet you could already feel your juices ruining your pants.

“Fuck,” he cursed again. In other circumstances you would have blushed, your unrequited crush on your cupid best friend making you feel all kinds of emotions. But you weren’t thinking straight, and he was talking again: “I’ll be there in a few minutes, take your clothes off, rub your pretty little clit until you are dripping wet because as soon as I cross your window I’m going to be inside of you, and I won’t stop until you are dripping with my come for every single hole.”

His words drove your brain into a frenzy, the effect of the pink powder getting even stronger as you did as you were told, pulling at your clothes so fast and hard you broke something. You didn’t care, you’d deal with whatever tore later on. You laid on your potions table, not caring about everything falling down or the million little pieces of glass that were probably on the ground, you had only one focus: obey. Your fingers found your clit and you started rubbing rapidly, moaning against the phone.

“You sound so sweet, good damn it. I knew you’d be perfect,” his words meant nothing and all at the same time, your inside twisting and turning as your pussy contracted over nothing, making you whine and beg. “I know, love, I know.” You could hear him breathing hard, the powder probably affecting him too, and with each movement of his wings you could feel him getting closer.

The second your window opened with a big crash, you were begging for him and he was falling to his knees next to the table, not caring about the glass, grabbing your ankles and pulling your legs as far apart as possible. He set his big body between them, his wings so wide and soft you felt the tickle against your knees when he pushed your legs over his shoulders.

The first contact of his tongue against your tender flesh feels like lightning hitting your body. And it only turned better when his dexterous tongue found your clit. He ate you out like a starving monster, fucking in and out of your pussy with his forked tongue until you were screaming his name and asking for more. More. More.

You came in less than two minutes, with his fingers pressing against your G-spot and your brain turning into jelly inside your head. It was so much and so little at the same time. You needed more. You needed him inside of you in any way you could. You pushed your torso up, pulling your legs off his shoulders and shoved his chest back until he was a few feet back. You jumped off the table, not even feeling the tiny glasses on the ground as you walked over them.

It was like your orgasm only made you hornier, more desperate, you needed him more than you needed your next breath. “Let me suck you off, please, please…” You begged, your eyes fixated on his dick straining against his pants.

You fumbled with the zipper, and he helped you, looking at you with such tenderness that your heart was about to explore out of your chest. But first: dick.

“Okay, love. Okay. Whatever you want. You can do whatever you want to me.” His words sounded like a promise, and your brain was so fuzzy you could only nod as you fell to your knees. “Open up,” he ordered, taking himself on his hand and caressing your cheek with the other. He fed you his cock and you swallowed it down greedily. “That’s it, such a good witch for me, such a pretty mouth wrapped around my shaft. Fuck, do that again.”

You rolled your tongue over his head, pressing against the underside where you knew he was most sensitive. That cupid anatomy book coming in handy when you were wrapping your hand at his base and squeezing until you felt the ridges inside move. He cursed over you, his hand grabbing your hair so harshly you felt the tiny spikes of pain, but that only made you moan louder around him.

He cursed again, telling you nonsense as he moved his dick in and out of your mouth slightly. “Fuck, your mouth, love. You are perfect. You are so good to me. I’ve been wanting to have you like this forever. Good goddess, your mouth.” You grabbed his ass, trying to get him closer, further down your throat, but he stopped you. “None of that, I… I need you. I need to be inside of you. After that you can play with me all you want.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” your voice was airy and low, and without a doubt you knew your whole body was pink all over.

He helped you to your feet, claiming your mouth in a brain melting kiss before grabbing your ass and helping you back onto the table. His fingers found your pussy at the same time he positioned himself on your opening. “You are so wet, fuck.” He pushed the tip inside, and you were indeed so wet he slipped right in.

He cursed in so many languages you weren’t sure how many words he said, but you were in heaven. You reached Valhalla or whatever other heaven there existed out there. All at once. None at all… You touched the stars and came back to your body when he moved his hips back, pushing right back in and drawing a scream out of your lungs.

And then there was no more playing, only frantic fucking and dirty words.

“Do you like me, love? Do you like the feel of my cock inside of you? Do you like when I say dirty things to you?” You shivered, nodding frantically as you rolled your hips, chasing some of the pleasure he was promising you with his thrusts. “Of course you do, you love to be fucked this hard, this fast… You never had it so good, did you? None of your stupid boyfriends was as good as me. Say it.”

“None were… None as good as you…” Your voice was trembling, his thrusts too fast and harsh, but you couldn’t complain. You wouldn’t. It was that good.

“I know darling, I know nobody was as good as me. But you didn’t let me tell you that, did you? You were always with one or another, never enough time for me to fuck you as you deserved. To treat you as you deserve. To make you fucking mine,” he punctuated each word with a hard thrust that hit right over your G-spot, sending sparks of desire and pleasure to your brain until you were drooling over the table. “Tell me I’m wrong, tell me you don’t like me like that and I’ve been pining over you for nothing,” his anger was palpable in each thrust of his hips inside your pussy, his ridges undulating and massaging you from the inside.

“I CAN’T. I CAN’T. YOU ARE RIGHT!” You screamed as another wave of pleasure washes over your body.

But he wasn’t listening to you, he was too focused on his actions, on driving you insane. “You can’t because you like me. You’ve liked me as long as I’ve liked you and you’ve been denying us both. For what? For some flimsy human dick? No more, love. You don’t go back to anyone else anymore. You. Are. Mine. To. Please.”

“Yours. Yours. Yours…”

And then there’s fireworks behind your eyelids and your brain is short circuiting. You could barely hold your body up as he expanded his dick inside of you, the cupid trick of locking inside your tight pussy was multiplied by a thousand because of the pink dust, and you could only scream silently as he bred you to the brim and your vision turned white behind your eyelids.

You came back to your body resting over his chest, the soft feathers tickling your cheek as you looked down at his wet dick, still half hard. Your body still craved him, and you were about to act on it when he said: “For what’s worth… I really like you like that, too, love,” he whispered against your sweaty forehead, his breathing labored as his dick twitched in your line of sight.

You threw a leg over his middle, rubbing your still dripping pussy over his dick. “Prove it.”

And he did.

(He was also true to his promise to leave you leaking and bred from every single hole, but that’s a story for another day...)

[somuchanxietysolittletime]

Yesterday, I was nobody. I went hungry every other week, saving money for the light bill. I complained about the price of eggs, but bought them anyway. I had big opinions about the government, but never voiced them in any meaningful way. I was a star, in that I was surrounded by trillions of brighter lights in the night sky and destined to be extinguished without anyone noticing.

Today, I was woken up by tires screeching to a halt outside. A line of black vehicles tore through whatever counted as my yard, encircling the tiny trailer I called home.

"Honey, stay calm." My husband said, sitting on the edge of our bed and staring out at the chaos. Calm. The quiet of the morning was ruined by the beat of blades above.

Helicopters?

I opened my mouth to say something, anything.

"This is a good day for you. The CIA didn't make it first." My husband was saying.

My mind reeled. "The CIA?" I repeated as he pushed me to the laundry.

"You'll want to get dressed. Here's your favorite shirt, I already pressed it for you."

When did he learn to do that? We had an old iron, but it was never used. Not since we started working remotely. The computer screen didn't mind wrinkled shirts.

"Who's outside?" I asked as I pulled on a jade green shirt, tucking it into my favorite leggings.

"Don't freak out."

"I won't."

"You always do." He said in resignation. "Outside is General MacAvoy, he will take you to our acting president."

I freaked out.

"The president?" My voice cracked, my mind reeled. "This is a joke. You set up a joke. How did you set this up?"

He steadied me. I blinked away tears until he looked clear again.

"Listen, they are going to let me explain first, because you respond best when I do."

"Do I have amnesia? Retrograde?" I ask, trying to piece together the broken information I was given. My husband didn't look a day older. The same pile of laundry sat undisturbed on our dryer, as it did when I went to sleep last night. A scratch marked by wrist, from where I picked too hard at a scab just days before.

No, not amnesia.

"You already know it's not." My husband confirmed. "The world has been locked, repeating the same 24 hours for the last... God... Fifteen thousand years, now?"

I opened my mouth again, trying to even process that amount of time.

My husband rubbed his hands down my arms, smiling despite the grim news.

"I can't even imagine..." We say at the same time.

"You knew I'd..." He says with me again.

"Is this all you've known?" My voice is weak, his is strong.

"I know you." He continues, stroking a hand down my face. "Every facet of you now. Every secret. I spent hundreds of years hiding you from the rest of the world, to keep anyone from learning that you weren't looping."

"Why?" I ask, a chill running up a spine.

He looks at me patiently, and I knew. Being different was dangerous. "It started with people wanting to know you, because you didn't see everything coming. You were easily surprised, and it added fun to their lives. Then they looked down on you, because we all grew while you stayed the same. Then you became the closest thing to a child we have. Even toddlers outstripped you."

A felt a prick in my pride, jutting my jaw out in something close to a pout.

He kisses me, soft and gentle. "It's fine. You just had less time." He stroked back my wild hair. "But then, things took a turn. Cruel thrill seekers would race to our home, because you're the only person who hasn't become numb to dying. To being killed. They loved your fear. And the CIA filled itself with so-called scientists who thought you could break the loop, if they could just study your every dissected cell closely enough."

His hands trembled. Slightly. Almost imperceptively. "You've died so many ways. Died screaming, every time. Sometimes, I just let it happen. I got so tired of protecting you, just to fail at it again and again. Rinse and repeat."

I swallowed hard, wanting to comfort him. How? How would I even begin? "I forgive you." My words feel distant.

He smiled, "You always do. And that makes it so much worse."

The door opens, and in walks a man. No, a boy. He barely reached my ribs, with strawberry blond curls and big green eyes. A child.

"I am not a child." The boy said, hands folded behind his back. "I am General MacAvoy. For the next twenty-three hours you are in my protection, as you have been for the last two years. Ma'am, we will keep you safe."

I swallow.

Yesterday, I was a nobody.

God, I wish I still was.

Apparently, you are living in a time loop. Also apparently, you are the only person on Earth who DOESN'T remember the previous iterations. This is the first time you've experienced today; the rest of humanity has been stuck reliving today for years now.

[burningcheese-merchant]

"You and I... We are meant to be together." okay everyone pack it up. go home. it doesn't get worse than this. I fear all other ancient x beast is #cancelled forever because how the utter fuck do you compete with that. My god. Dark Cacao would die on the spot, his old fucking heart would give out processing a sentence that romantic. Golden Cheese would choke and die from the physical manifestation of her own pride and ego before she could ever utter a sentence that open and honest. Hollyberry is choosing to laugh it all off and pray she can drink away and not think about it. White Lily would fall into another witch pot of bubbling goo before confronting said feelings. Only Pure Motherfucking Vanilla is that clincally batshit and unburdened to spout his feelings 1000% unfiltered to a guy who just killed his friends and got his rocks off psychologically torturing him.

Mystic Flour being utterly repulsed by such naïve, meaningless sentimentality, still clinging to the remains of the apathy she so cherishes and champions even as it slips through her fingers like flour through a sieve; hating herself to her very core because somewhere within it, she KNOWS her heart beats and aches for that ridiculous man, but she would end her own suffering before she allowed the truth to poke its head out from the shadows of her subconscious for even a single second

Burning Spice knowing how he feels for Golden Cheese, reveling in it, LIVING for the way his heart thunders in his chest and his breath hitches at the mere thought of his little bird. Never being afraid to tell her so, to pour out the contents of his dark heart without any filter (and Witches know he needs one at times...), either through his mouth or through the blade of his axe. But... still knowing that it isn't quite enough. Not for her. Because there's still something missing from his confessions. That soft, sugary sweetness that took away enough of the edge to his overwhelming spice that even he himself noticed it. That raw honesty - a different kind than he's used to, not quite what he employs. The kind that well and truly leaves him vulnerable and open to judgment; things he hates himself for fearing, even if it's only in relation to her and no one else. The kind he simply cannot have, that he cannot carry out. He tells Golden Cheese how he feels for her the way he WANTS to, not the way he NEEDS to. For that, he must change. And damn it, he can't handle any more change. It'll kill him, and he doesn't want to die anymore. Not while she's there to make his life fun again

Eternal Sugar sighing, rolling her eyes before letting them flutter shut again, because she knows this song and dance. She once helped countless others perform it; such was her lot as Happiness. And she chooses to ignore it, tuck herself back into bed and retreat into the world of dreams once more. Letting laziness govern her actions, like always. Running away from everything again - including her feelings for Hollyberry, and the fears and doubts that shroud them. Choosing to do nothing with the fact that Hollyberry is a runner and a quitter just like her, instead of taking initiative with her life and emotions for the first time in ages and telling Hollyberry point-blank that they could run away from the world together if she truly wanted

Silent Salt secretly lamenting his condition more than ever before, for now more than ever can he truly say that it is a hindrance, a curse, a stain on the tapestry of his life. Because no matter how well he's trained himself to express his thoughts and feelings through his actions, he knows that there are times where words really DO speak louder - and he can't speak them at all. He can never look White Lily in the eye and open his mouth and allow his praise and adoration to leap freely from his tongue. She will never feel the warmth of his tone as his words embraced her. She will never shiver and swoon at the joy and passion that dripped from every single letter - and there would've been many, there would've been more than could ever have been recorded, for he would've sung his feelings from every rooftop on earth until his lungs gave out. But he can't. He never will. Does he try to pretend it's better this way? Does he try and fail to cope with his lovesickness like his comrades do with theirs? Or does he accept the bitter reality for what it is, no ifs, ands, or buts, only hiding the gloom and doom he knows is written all over his face behind his helm just so he doesn't have to see it for himself?

And, above all of these things, bundling up the other 4 Beasts' feelings and tucking them away... Above all else, they are angry. They are angry at Shadow Milk. Because he achieved what none of them could. He got everything he wanted. His Ancient admitted his love for him, with all of the raw sincerity one could possibly afford another. The other Beasts would do ANYTHING to hear their Ancients speak to them in such a way. To acknowledge and embrace their connection, to confess to loving and longing for them; for their countenance, for their voice, for their touch, for their very souls. Shadow Milk got to reunite with his other half - who chose him willingly, wholeheartedly.

And Shadow Milk chose to throw it all away in the end. Let it all go to waste.

If any of them ever see him again, they're going to let him know EXACTLY how they feel about it all. Maybe it can count as practice towards crafting a proper heartfelt confession.

[merrinla]

Cut lines from Solas and Rook after Weisshaupt. None of these are voiced, so only text. Some are rewritten in the game.

Solas: You once told me that you would stop the gods without getting "thousands of innocent people killed."

Solas: You once told me that you would accept whatever consequences came from your battle.

Solas: You once told me that the consequences of your battle would be a problem for "Future Rook."

Rook: Yeah.

option: Don't mock me, okay? Rook: Whatever your big trickster-god lesson is, could we just... not? Solas: Why not? What makes this time different? Rook: Weisshaupt? Solas: You have seen death before.

option: I let the team down. Rook: I went to Weisshaupt to stop the gods... with a team of people I'd recruited.

Rook: Davrin, Lucanis, all of them... I convinced them to join. I told them we could win. Rook: And right now, it feels like I lied to them.

option: I was in command. Rook: But I've never been in charge. And this time...

Rook: I punched the First Warden in the face and made everybody listen to me.

Rook: I got the First Warden to listen. I got him to believe in me.

Rook: And then I... I couldn't get it done. I failed. And Weisshaupt fell.

option: This time broke me. Rook: This time, I feel... nothing. Solas: And still you hide your feelings.

Rook: No, I mean... I try to think about what I'm feeling, and I just... there's nothing there. Rook: If I think about what happened at Weisshaupt, I just... stop. Like I could go to sleep and never wake up. Rook: And I can't afford to do that. Solas: Why not? Rook: Because I let everyone down once already. I can't do it again.

Solas: There it is. The grief of having not lived up to the trust that others placed in you. Solas: It is a pain worse than any Elgar'nan or Ghilan'nain could inflict, and if you let it, it can help you. Rook: How?

Solas: There are those who hold their emotions at a distance to avoid the sting of failure. Solas: To defeat Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain, there can be no distance. You must be committed. Rook: What, you think we failed because I didn't want it enough? Solas: I cannot say. But you chose this battle, and in so doing, you chose these consequences. Solas: Regret is the price we pay for acting when no one else will. Solas: Without regret, we would not be driven to correct our mistakes, to improve. To get it right.

option: I'll get it right. Rook: Next time, we won't miss. Solas: I believe you. Solas: And I believe that if you listen to me, then Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain will fall.

option: I don't want to feel this. Rook: It still hurts. Solas: I have lived thousands of years and made countless mistakes. It always hurts. Solas: If you listen to that feeling, perhaps you may never need to feel it again so keenly.

option: I'm not here for this shit. Rook: I didn't come here for your philosophical bullshit. I came for help! Solas: What did you think my help would look like? Solas: I cannot promise that our talks will be easy. All I can promise is that if you listen to me, Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain will fall.

option: I need some support. Rook: Could you be hopeful Solas instead of smug Solas right now. Rook: I don't need you to convince me how bad things are, okay? I get it. I really, really get it. Solas: You have finally met the Evanuris in battle.

option: I have to act confident. Rook: Yeah, we met the gods, and now I have to act like we're not completely screwed and this was a good step forward. Solas: Why? Rook: We lost a lot of Grey Wardens. We lost Weisshaupt. If we lost all of that, and I didn't accomplish anything? Solas: Then what? Rook: Then there's no way I can win. I should just start running now. Rook: But I can't. I have to keep acting like there's some way to win. And that's... terrifying.

Solas: Good. There it is. The fear. Solas: You finally see the consequences. You know the stakes. That fear, the terror of what you face now, can help you, if you let it. Rook: How does admitting I'm terrified help?

option: And I'm in charge. Rook: And somehow, I'm supposed to go up against them again, and everyone is looking to me for a plan. Solas: The plan will come. Once you have marshaled your forces...

Rook: I had a legendary assassin, a dragon hunter, and an army of Grey Wardens, and we still failed! I still failed. Rook: People keep asking me what we do now, and I have no idea. And that is... terrifying.

option: They're too powerfull. Rook: Yeah, and it turns out that when you're fighting a god, terror is a perfectly rational feeling!

Rook: And don't give me that "Evanuris" crap. You can turn people to stone with your eyes! Solas: Yes, and yet I wield far less power than Ghilan'nain or Elgar'nan. Rook: The world is going to end up a blighted wasteland unless I stop them, and... I don't think I can.

option: This is your fault! Rook: No. You don't get to come in here all superior. A whole lot of people just died, and that's on you! Solas: I have made many mistakes, but I did not free Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain. Rook: Fine. Whatever. Solas: No. This is important, Rook. Solas: Your fury is real, but you can only defeat it if you identify its source. Who are you truly angry at?

option: Everyone! Rook: I'm trying to save the world, and everybody's kicking me in the shins while I'm doing it!

Rook: Tevinter and the Antaam would rather fight each other!

Rook: The Grey Wardens wouldn't listen until I punched their leader in the face and took over!

Rook: The First Warden wouldn't listen until the enemy was stomping all over his courtyard!

Rook: I can't do this alone! I need people to shut up and do what I tell them for once, or I'm going to fail again!

option: Ugh. Myself! Rook: I know who I'm angry at. It doesn't matter. Solas: Of course it matters. You must learn who you are.

Rook: The whole world is gonna know who I am! They're gonna make statues of me!

Rook: "In honor of Rook: He/She/They almost saved Weisshaupt!"

option: Bad luck? Rook: I don't know! Fate, luck, something! This whole mission has been one disaster after another. Solas: And how would luck help you? What is it that you need?

Rook: I need a break! I need one damn thing to go right for once! Solas: Because you deserve it? Rook: Because I can't do this! Rook: But if I don't, nobody will. So I've gotta keep banging my head against this wall like an idiot hoping for a miracle!

Solas: There it is. The anger. The frustration at having failed. Solas: Properly channeled, that rage can flare hot enough to burn away any impurities. Rook: Fine! I'm angry! How does that help?

option: We made progress. Rook: I'd hoped we'd take down Ghilan'nain, but we did kill her Archdemon. That's a good start.

Solas: "A good start." I wonder if your fellow Wardens would agree.

Solas: "A good start." I wonder if the Grey Wardens would agree.

Solas: Does this truly feel like even a partial victory, or does something uncomfortable lurk behind that easy smile?

option: No. But being sad won't help. Rook: No, of course it doesn't feel like victory. But that's what leadership is. Rook: It's putting your own feelings aside so the team doesn't collapse. Solas: And what is so dangerous that the mere sight of it would destroy your team? Rook: That I was wrong.

option: I'm tryung to believe. Rook: It has to feel like a partial victory. If it doesn't...

option: I need to seem confident. Rook: How do you think I feel? But the team needs me to look like I know what I'm doing. Solas: And what do you need?

option: Thanks, Past Rook. Rook: Sounds like something Past Rook would say. He's/She's/They're kind of an asshole.

Solas: (Chuckles)

Solas: You use humor a great deal.

Solas: "The elven god of sarcasm."

Solas: "This is the reason nobody likes you."

Solas: "Killing an Archdemon is the easy part."

Solas: Is all of this really so amusing, or is that wit the blade with which you keep less comfortable feelings at bay?

option: It's that or cry. Rook: I'm doing the best I can to hold it together. Sometimes that means stupid jokes. Solas: And when those fail? Rook: Then I probably start ugly-sobbing. Snotty nose, blotchy face, the whole deal. Solas: Why? You are no stranger to death. You have seen warriors fall in battle before.

option: It's that or panic. Rook: Well, I don't think uncontrollable screaming is gonna help anything, and that's the only other option. Solas: Uncontrollable screaming at what?

option: It's that or rage. Rook: Yeah, there's a pretty good chance the jokes are how I cope. Solas: And beneath those jokes? Rook: Why does that matter? Would me yelling right now help anything? Solas: It might help you know who you are.

option: It's a lot to accept. Rook: I was thinking I'd be accepting hurt feelings, not a whole fortress falling to darkspawn. Solas: Sometimes the hurt feelings are worse.

option: I guess? Rook: Weisshaupt could've fallen without us killing Ghilan'nain's Archdemon. That would technically be worse. Solas: Technically.

option: That's still true. Rook: And I stand by that. Solas: Truly? You watched a fortress fall and Wardens die, and it touches nothing within you?

Solas: I expect that you call it professionalism.

Solas: No hesitation. "We stopped you. We'll stop them."

Solas: No concern. Just targets. "Any other surprises we should know about?"

Solas: What are you so desperate to avoid feeling?

option: Numb. Rook: Nothing. Solas: So no fear, no anger, lurks beneath the surface?

option: Terror. Rook: Ghilan'nain was so much worse than anything I expected. She's a god.

option: Fucking furious. Rook: I am so fucking tired of being the one who has to do this while the rest of the world ignores the problem!

Solas: And while your grief is valid, the situation is not as dire as it seems.

Solas: And while your fear is valid, the situation is not as dire as it seems.

Solas: And while your frustration is valid, the situation is not as dire as it seems.

Solas: You have slain an Archdemon, a feat only a few have accomplished over the centuries. Solas: Ghilan'nain is now mortal. If you can find her and catch her unprepared, you can kill her. Rook: So how do I find her? Solas: Your team has ties to organizations with connections you lack. The Shadow Dragons in Minrathous, the Veil Jumpers in Arlathan, and so on. Solas: Strengthening your team will strengthen those groups. Prove your value as an ally, and they will give you the openings you seek. Rook: Okay, I'll see what I can do. Solas: Good. And Rook... I am sorry for the necessity of this lesson.

option: No, I appreciate it. Rook: You don't have to apologize. I know you're trying to help, so... thanks. Solas: Don't. Don't thank me. Solas: Our talk today will lead to Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain falling, but it is not a kindness. Solas: Good luck.

option: It's not wholly unexpected. Rook: You talk with the Dread Wolf, you gotta be prepared to bleed a little. Solas: A painful assessment, but more than fair, especially today. Solas: If I knew some other way to prepare you for what lies ahead, I would do so.

option: Whatever. Goodbye. Rook: We're done here. I'll talk to you when I know something. Solas: Of course. Then I will simply wish you good luck.

[orionhelluvaranting]

Like creator, like character

Isn't that interesting how every bloody time someone tries to call Stolass' out this frigging owl finds a way to justify himself or shift the blame?

"I would feel bad if I hurt you but we both know I didn't do that!"

"Cheating implies there was a betrayal..."

"I don't look down on you!"

"I didn't leave you, I would never, that wasn't my choice!"

And do you know who does the exact same thing?

Vivziepop by herself! 🌟

"You disapprove me for sexualizing the rapist and preferring to sell merch with him rather than with his victim? C'mon, guys, Val isn't real! He's Karen from 'Mean Girls'! Fiction is an escape!.. You're just pissy your faves didn't get merch!"

"I liked the post calling my haters 'subhumans'? Well, people are just 'exhausted of being attacked for liking a show'. My fans harass critics? It sucks, but my fans are 'scared to talk about liking the show due to the harassment'. So you're no any better!"

"You've found a plothole XYZ, inconsistency in the story, lame jokes or any other flaws of my shows? No, my writing is smart and logical, bc I said so! Learn to read between the lines!"

"You think I have favoritism toward certain characters? No way! Stolass and Blitz are BOTH in the wrong, I'm gonna show this! Millie isn't ignored by the narrative, actually I'm so excited for you to know about her more! Loona doesn't speak a half of the season because... it was easier on the budget. HB has steered more towards a male-led stories. It's intended this way. You're just misunderstand my genius thought process."

"That's not my problem", "I care about SA victims," "Grow up!" etc.

And I'm not even talking about the justifying/problematic tweets she simply liked 💫

This woman always has an excuse. For everything. Just like Stolass does. Honestly I'd rather not speculate about Stolass being Viv's self-insert (as other critics said long before) but that kind of behavior only confirms such statements. It's like they both live by this quote:

Say whatever you want but for me this is the main proof that Stolass will NEVER take responsibility for his own actions. Because it's seems like Vivienne has no clue how to do this either. She doesn't think she could ever be wrong. So she uses the same mentality for Stolass since he's her beloved pet.

And which one of Viv's excuses is your personal favorite? Mine is "We didn't ask anyone to redesign these characters, it's a choice". Sounds like "They should've seen that coming! It's their own fault they're harassed! What did they even expect?" for me. Just fucking brilliant! 😤💢

PS/ I hasn't been monitoring Vivziepop closely enough all the time and maybe I don't see the whole picture, so please correct me if I'm wrong here but... I can't remember a single time this woman admitted her wrongness or apologized sincerely. Ever. I mean, if there's at least one case of Viv making amends or smth it would be nice, even if it prolly won't fix everything.

[atlabeth]

something about her

masterlist

pairing: spencer reid x fem gideon!reader

summary: you’re reminded why you’re really here while spencer does some unwanted self reflection.

a/n: things have been a little too fun and fluffy around these parts so i had to fix it. it’s easy to forget you’re still dealing w a stalker when you’re busy living in denial <3 enjoy the mess! this whole thing is in spencer's pov bc this all got soooo far away from me

title from the song by stephen sanchez

wc: 5.3k

warning(s): things start to ramp up! stalking, anxiety, lowkey panic attacks, angst, hurt/comfort, r almost has a panic attack, alcohol/mentions of alcoholism, the usual. but more bonding!!

Spencer can’t sleep. 

He’s tried every trick in the book. Counting sheep, counting to one hundred, counting to one hundred backwards, going through the alphabet, going through the alphabet backwards, methods with actual scientific research backing them—none of it works. He’s stared at the ceiling for most of the night. 

He feels like a hypocrite most of all, preaching the importance of adequate sleep when he’ll be lucky to get five hours. But it looks like you barely sleep as is. He probably should keep preaching to you. 

There’s a myriad of reasons to explain it. His hyperactive brain has been responsible for many restless nights. He’s still in unfamiliar territory, and he hasn’t gotten used to sleeping on this bed yet. Lest he forget, he’s your first and only line of protection here from your stalker. That’s enough to keep anyone awake, even FBI. 

But then there’s also… you in general. 

Spencer can’t say he tries not to think about you, because this past week it’s felt like the only thing he’s thought about. 

It’s practically impossible, even before you were shoved into this house together. You have a way of tunneling your way into a person’s mind and refusing to leave—especially his. 

Again, it’s easy enough to pass off. You’re the only ones here, and the time you’re not spending alone you’re spending with each other. Your only choice beyond isolation is to talk to Spencer, and it seems you’re slowly moving past preferring it over him. 

But he doesn’t think he can just pass this off.

He can’t get your smile out of his head. Your moments of levity are so few and far between that it makes them shine bright as the sun. Spencer has learned he loves how you look when you’re happy. He just wishes it wasn’t such a rarity.

Gideon’s lecture rings in his ears. He really had two jobs—keep you safe, and don’t fall for you. Hopefully he only fails the one. 

It’s not like he has to worry about it, though. You might not hate him as much anymore, but you still don’t really like him. As much as it bums him out, it’s for the best. It means that in a week or two, when the team has caught the unsub and all this is over, you can both go your separate ways and you’ll never have to see Spencer again. 

That bums him out even more, though. 

He lets out a long sigh. He doesn’t know why he’s surprised. JJ, Elle, now you—Morgan would say he really knew how to pick ‘em. Girls who didn’t like him back. 

Just then his phone rings, jolting him out what could have been a convincing play for sleep if not for his thoughts, and he groans a little. Spencer fumbles around for it without lifting his head from the pillow, only turning slightly so he can flick it open and place it against his ear. 

“Gideon, why are you calling this early?” he mumbles. 

“I hope you’re treating her well.”

The gravelly voice through the speaker is a shock, and Spencer doesn’t really process it. His brain still hasn’t turned on. 

“Gideon?” he asks again. 

“I know you ran away. Trying to protect her like you have any right.” 

His blood goes cold as the words finally register. 

This is their unsub. This— this is your stalker. 

“What do you want?” he asks, unable to keep the sharp edge out of his words. 

“You’ve hurt her the same way he has,” the voice continues. “He’s ruined our lives and you don’t care.”

Spencer’s mind is simultaneously blank and running wild. He knows he should try to profile him or talk to him to get something out of him but— but all he feels is anger. 

“What do you want?” he repeats, louder this time. 

“Think about your priorities, Agent Reid. I’ll be watching.” 

The disconnected tone blares in his ear before he can say anything else, and Spencer stares down at his phone in confused annoyance. 

What kind of bullshit game is this guy trying to play with you? 

First he stalks you for a month—possibly months— then sends pictures of you to your door, then forces you into hiding and now he’s just mocking you like this? 

If Gideon is the goal, this bastard is doing a great job of dragging you along. 

Spencer’s heart jumps into his throat all of a sudden. You. 

He grabs his gun off his bedside table then lunges to the door with all the athleticism of a newborn baby giraffe, nearly tripping in his haste to get out into the hallway. He slams your door open once he gets to your room, and the relief that floods through his body when you shoot up from your previously sleeping position is almost dangerous. 

“Spencer?” you grumble, still completely out of it as you rub your eyes. “What the fuck are you doing?” 

You’re alive. You’re okay. You’re still here. 

He opens his mouth to respond, still kind of out of breath, when his phone rings again. Spencer takes it out and is already pressing it to his ear. 

“What the hell do you want from her?” he barks. The absolute nerve of your stalker to call back—

“Reid, it’s me.”

It’s Gideon’s voice that comes out of the speaker this time, and Spencer feels the wave of red hot rage boiling in his stomach crash against a wall of confusion. 

“I—” He swallows deeply, his eyes flicking over to your befuddled expression momentarily before he feels himself flush bright red and look away. “I’m so sorry, sir. I thought you were someone else.” 

“You got a call?”

His blood runs cold. “You mean you got one too?”

Gideon curses and he hears him move around. Pacing in his bedroom, if Spencer knew anything about him. “Tell me my daughter is safe.”

“She— she is,” he stammers. “I’m with her right now.”

“Spencer, what the fuck is going on?” You’re sitting up now, much more aware than you were fifteen seconds ago. “Why do you have your gun— why are you talking to my dad?”

“Do a perimeter check,” Gideon demands. “If he’s there—”

“I know.” Spencer looks back at you and sighs. “You should talk to her.”

“I know,” Gideon echoes. “Let her stay on the line with me while you figure things out.”

He nods and takes the phone from his ear. “Gideon wants to talk with you.”

You’re standing up now, a dumbfounded expression on your face. “Hold on, you still haven’t answered me! What is going on?”

“I got a call from our guy,” he says. Your eyes widen and he can see your chest still. His heart clenches at the sight. “Gideon did too.”

“What?” you breathe. “Wh— what did he want?”

“To scare you.” Spencer holds up his gun. “Can you hide in the closet while I do a perimeter check?”

You scoff. Your demeanor is still shaken, but the fire is more prominent. He’s started to admire that about you. “Spencer, I am not hiding in the closet.”

“Then lock yourself in the bathroom again!” he exclaims. He doesn’t mean for the outburst, but he can’t help it. “Just— I can’t focus if I’m worried about you, and right now the only thing I can think of is how worried I am about you, so I need to know you’re safe while I do this.”

You stare at him, and Spencer stares right back, if a little frantic. He feels his chest rise and fall from the force, a stark contrast to your still body—similar to the panic he knows is in his eyes to the steely cool of yours. 

“I’m not letting you potentially face an insane stalker by yourself,” you finally say. 

Spencer huffs. “I am an FBI agent. I’ve faced worse things than insane stalkers.”

“We’ve been together this whole time,” you insist. “We— we can do this together too.” 

He looks at you again—he can tell you’re not going to move on this. Spencer eventually sighs and holds the phone back up to his ear. 

“I’m assuming you heard that?” 

“Let her go with you,” Gideon says. “It’s riskier for her to be on her own than outside with you. But stay on the line, and stay alert. Nothing can happen to her—do you understand?” 

“I won’t let anything happen to her,” he says. “I meant what I said.” 

“...Good.” 

Spencer holds the phone out to you again, and your lip curls. 

“I’m not—” 

“Come on,” he interrupts, gesturing with his head into the hallway. 

Your annoyance melts into acknowledgement when you realize he’s not blowing you off again, and you nod as you take the phone. Spencer wraps both hands around his gun as he starts moving, you matching his pace as you follow him. 

“Yeah, Dad,” he hears you say behind him. “I’m here.” 

This is what he meant by you needing to stay behind. He’s worried about you more than anything, yes, but he also can’t help but listen. Spencer has very keen ears, to everyone’s simultaneous disdain and appreciation on the team—it makes him a very good asset in the field, but also a very good asset when it comes time for office gossip. 

“No, nothing’s happened yet. Yes— yes, I’m okay, I promise. Spencer’s done an annoyingly good job of keeping me safe.” 

Once Spencer reaches the door, he peers through the peephole to make sure their unsub isn’t embarrassingly obvious. It’s clear, and he turns to face you and raises a hand, then places his finger on his lips. 

“Uh— I have to go dark for a sec,” you say. “We’re checking the perimeter. Don’t worry, I’ll scream if anyone tries to kill me. Be back soon.” 

You pull the phone away from your ear and nod at Spencer, and he holds his breath before he opens the door. 

The frigid air hits both of you at once, and he hears then sees your sharp exhale of breath. It’s been a while since either of you have been outside, but it’s good to know he hasn’t been missing superb weather. 

“Stay close and stay quiet,” Spencer whispers. “I’m your only line of defense out here.” 

He expects you to shoot back with some remark, but you merely nod in response. Spencer hopes he hides the shock he feels before he turns away and starts walking. 

Dawn isn’t for a few more hours—the only real light source is the moon high in the night sky. It doesn't exactly help his nerves to be doing all this in the dark, but part of him is almost thankful to be doing this. Spencer doesn’t know how to deal with you or any of the emotions you stir inside of him or the sleepless nights you cause because he can’t stop thinking of you—but he knows how to do his job, and he knows how to do it damn well. 

He just wishes it didn’t have to come with the unfortunate side effect of you being in immense danger. 

But Spencer does his best to push those thoughts to the back of his mind—right now, he has to have one focus. 

And he does. The two of you stick close to the side of the house, his eyes darting all over as he tries to dig out any details, any possible sign that the unsub was here. The ground is still a thin layer of mud from the storm last night, so it should be easy to find footprints. Spencer’s Converse aren’t doing a great job at keeping him upright—slipping in front of you is too embarrassing for him to even think about. 

All of a sudden, he stops, his arm shooting out in front of you. You don’t realize it for a second and you run into him, your hand wrapping around his arm on instinct to steady yourself. If he wasn’t so shocked at what he was looking at, he would have been bright red over it. 

“What the h—” 

“Footprints,” he whispers.  “Th— they’re almost gone, but—” 

“He was here?” you interrupt. Fear spikes in your voice and your grip tightens on his arm. 

“Last night, maybe.” Spencer swallows the doubt in his throat. It doesn’t matter what he thinks, how he feels—he’s not going to make you feel worse. “The rain probably washed most of them away.” 

“Spencer—”

“I am surprised these are still here, though,” he continues. “The rainfall was really heavy. I wouldn’t expect them to stay in mud like this—” 

“Spencer, look where we are!” you exclaim, gesturing hard with your other hand. He realizes that you’ve let go of his arm by now, but he pushes it out of his head and looks. 

“The window to your room,” he says. The blinds are closed and the lock is in place—he’s made sure every night—but there are small enough gaps between the shutters. 

“He was watching us last night!” Your breathing is starting to come heavier and faster now. “We talked about all that shit and he was just here watching and we didn’t even fucking know!” 

You’re on the edge of hyperventilating. Spencer has got to get you down or else you’re going to have a full blown panic attack out here. 

“Hey, hey— look at me.” He says your name and that, if anything else, gets you to listen and meet his eyes. They’re filled with an unbridled fear he hasn’t seen in you until now. “Don’t think about him. Don’t think about any of this. He’s not here.” 

“He was watching us—” 

“And we’ll figure out what to do next. But you have to stay calm. You can’t let him win.” 

You’re still harried, your chest rising and falling rapidly as your eyes dart all around. Spencer says your name softly, tucks his gun into its holster, then takes your hands in his, hoping that it gives you something to focus that isn’t the rest of this. 

“Just look at me,” he says softly. 

You suck in another shaky breath, but you’re not as frantic as before. You at least look him in the eye, and you don’t wrench your hands out of his grasp. Progress, if nothing else. 

“Breathe with me.” 

You nod—still panicked, but better. Spencer breathes in deep and you do the same, following as he counts up and down with his fingers. It takes a few rounds, but eventually, he’s gotten you off the edge. 

Spencer says your name again, just as soft as before. You’re still breathing slowly in and out. 

“How do you feel?” 

“Better,” you murmur. “I—” 

You’re interrupted by the phone you both forgot was in your hand, Gideon’s voice muddled as it comes from the receiver. You rip your hands out of Spencer’s as you come back into yourself, shaking your head and blinking a few times while you take a few steps away from him. 

“I’m here, Dad,” you say. “We— we’re okay. No, nothing happened.” 

Spencer blinks too. He looks down at his hands, then glances at you, then shakes his head. He walks back over to the footprint and crouches down, trying to keep his mind clear. He commits every detail he can to memory, doing his best to ignore the conversation with your dad in the background. 

Well, he tunes in a little. He can’t help it—he wants to make sure you’re okay. 

“We found a footprint outside my room,” you’re saying. “Spencer thinks it’s your guy. I have no idea. Yes, we are. You don’t have to be so pushy.” You sigh and he feels your gaze on him. “Spencer, we have to finish this up. Dad wants us back inside.” 

He clears his throat as he nods a few times. “Let me get a picture of this first.” 

You hand him the phone and Spencer snaps some photos from a few different angles, hoping forensics will be able to get anything out of it. He hears Gideon’s voice again and he holds it to his ear once more. 

“Gideon?” 

“Reid, get her back inside,” he says. “We can’t take any unnecessary risks.” 

“We haven’t finished securing the perimeter,” he says. 

“Then finish it and get back inside!” he exclaims. “You have proof that he was there—” 

“We don’t know it’s him,” Spencer interrupts. 

“We know there was somebody there!” Gideon shoots back. “I’m not risking her, and from what I’ve heard, you don’t want to either.” 

Spencer feels his cheeks warm as he looks back at you, and he pulls his gun back out of its holster. “Come on. We have to finish this up.” 

“That’s what I said,” you mutter, but you follow him without further protest. 

The rest of the check goes by quickly without any other distractions or surprises, and soon enough you’re back inside. While Spencer chats with Gideon, updating him in a calmer manner on everything with the phone call and the footprint, you’re ruffling through the cabinets. 

Eventually, he sees you pull out a bottle of clear liquid from the corner of his eye. He frowns and realizes that it’s vodka. 

“It’s 4:29 in the morning,” Spencer says, cutting off Gideon almost absentmindedly as you pop the bottle open. 

“And we found out that this place isn’t nearly as safe as anyone thought,” you respond sharply. “I think that warrants some drinking.” 

“That means that you should have a clear mind,” he says. “Alcohol impairs your brain’s communication pathways, as well as your judgment and coordination.” 

“I’ve gotten drunk before, genius,” you mutter as you search for a glass. You end up choosing a the mug you used for coffee the other morning then start pouring. “Enough to know it’s what I need right now.” 

“It can also cause mood swings,” Spencer says. “I think that’s the last thing you need right now.”

You roll your eyes, not even bothering to look back at him as you finish pouring a concerning amount of liquor into the mug. 

“What is going on over there?” Gideon asks. Spencer remembers he’s holding the phone and he puts it back to his ear. 

“I think your daughter is an alcoholic,” he comments. 

“I’m not an alcoholic,” you say sharply. “I just can’t focus on all this right now.” 

“It’s best if she gets some sleep,” Gideon says. “All of this is likely terrifying to her, no matter how hard she tries to hide it.” 

Spencer’s mind flashes back to your near panic attack—your wide eyes full of fear and harried breathing that only made you hyperventilate more when you realized you couldn’t control it. It’s too easy to think of you as some untouchable being from the way you interact with him, bothered by nothing and no one. 

The mask cracks on rare occasion. It makes you seem frighteningly real. 

“You’re right,” Spencer nods. You sip your drink without flinching. He doesn’t think he can even call it a drink if it’s just straight liquor. “We could all use some sleep.” 

“Just make sure she’s safe,” he says. “Make sure the whole place is secure. We’re not—” 

“Taking risks,” he finishes. “Believe me, I know.” 

Gideon is silent for a second, and Spencer takes the time to look at you. The bags under your eyes are even more prominent, and there’s a haunted glint in your eyes as you stare at the wall. You shiver ever so slightly, the outside chill still lingering on your skin. You’ve got pajama pants on but just a plain tee. You didn’t have time to put a sweatshirt on before he pulled you outside in the mania of it all. 

You really are beautiful—but you’re so damn tired. 

Spencer realizes that all he wants to do is give you some respite. 

“I’ll call you back later, then,” Gideon says. “To check in.” 

“Okay.” Spencer’s throat bobs as he averts his eyes from you. “Get some rest too, Gideon.” 

The other end hangs up without a response. Spencer stares down at the phone for a few seconds then sighs before he tucks it back into his pocket. 

“What’d he want?” you ask. 

“I can’t believe you’re drinking vodka out of a coffee mug at four in the morning.”

You frown. “You don’t get to judge me.” 

“It’s not good for you.” 

“None of this is good for me,” you enunciate. “What did my dad want?”

“I’m serious,” Spencer continues. “Drinking on an empty stomach can lead to low blood sugar— drinking at this hour is going to completely disrupt your circadian rhythm.” 

“You know what else has disrupted my circadian rhythm?” you ask mockingly. “Being here. Having a stalker. Finding out that said stalker was also here, watching us. I think that’s a little worse for me than the alcohol.” 

Spencer stares at you, and as you’re prone to do, you stare back. Eventually, he shakes his head and looks away, deciding to quit while he’s ahead. 

“He wants you to get some sleep,” he says. “Wants us both to.” 

You scoff and shake your head, downing much more vodka than you should in one go. Again, you don’t flinch—for a schoolteacher, you handle your liquor very well. “Like I’d get to sleep after this.” 

“It’s important,” Spencer insists. “You’ve gotten— what? Three hours of sleep?” 

“Well, all this excitement has woken me up,” you say. 

“Well, I’m tired,” Spencer says. “So I guess I’ll see you in a few hours.” 

He starts to walk to his room, figuring that you need time to cool off, when—

“Wait.” 

Your voice is oddly strangled, and Spencer stops in his tracks. 

“I—” you stop and sigh, your tongue darting out to wet your lips. “I don’t want to be alone right now.” 

“Our rooms are close to each other,” he says. “I’ll be able to hear if you yell.” 

You rub your eyes as you let out another haggard sigh. “I can’t stand to be in that room, Spencer. Not knowing that— that he was right there.” 

Spencer can’t look away from you. Your eyes glint with tears you’re trying to hold back, but you’re laid bare in a way he knows you hate. 

You’re being pushed to your limits against your will, and it kills him that he can’t do anything to help you. Honestly, sometimes he feels useless being stuck here while the rest of the team is out there actively working to help you. All he can do is stand around here and annoy you. 

Except you want him there. For the first time since all of this has started, you want him there. 

It’s the only thing he can do for you right now. How can he refuse? 

“Okay,” he says softly, and he nods. “Okay. We can share my room tonight.” 

The tension in your shoulders fades ever so slightly, and you—thankfully—set the mug down. “Keep your gun close.” 

“I’m not sure you want me shooting when I’m sleep deprived,” Spencer says. 

Your lips twitch just so, and Spencer’s heart skips a beat. He can’t help it. 

He should have known he was in too deep the moment he stepped into this house with you. 

-

“Very cozy,” you say. 

“It’s the same as your room,” Spencer responds. 

You shrug. “It’s messy. Makes it feel like home.” 

He feels his face flush. “I haven’t really been focused on keeping things clean.” 

“Relax.” You sit down on the bed. “I’m not judging you.” 

“Good.” Spencer glances at you as he moves his bag off of your side of the bed. “Because that would be very rude after the generosity I’ve shown you.” 

You laugh and Spencer finds himself smiling at the sound of it. He’s glad he’s turned away, and he’s glad he manages to push it away by the time he’s turned back around. 

You’re wearing a sweatshirt and sweatpants now, and it’s strange to see you look so… soft. Every part of you is so sharp, some of it jagged—sometimes you harden around him, sometimes you mellow. He’s a bit tired of the back and forth. 

Maybe that’s what makes him speak up. 

“I’m tired of us always being at odds.” 

Your eyebrows rise and you look at him. “Really?” 

Spencer nods, his will bolstered. “Really. We have a nice talk one night, and I feel like we’ve had a breakthrough, and then you go back to hating me the next morning. I’m— I’m sick of it.” 

He expects you to shoot back with some mocking comment like you always do, making fun of him for wanting more than what little you give him. But instead, you lay back against the pillows and shrug. 

“Okay.” 

He blinks. “Really?” 

“Really,” you nod. “I’m too tired to want to fight right now.” 

“You’re the one that always tries to fight me.” 

“Aren’t you fighting me right now?” 

Spencer shakes his head. “You’re unbelievable.” 

You chuckle. “Still fighting.” 

He stares at you. As usual, you stare back, but this time you can’t fully bite back your smile. For some reason, that gets Spencer to break. He smiles too, and he settles down on the bed next to you. There’s a pillow buffer between you, but it’s still a lot closer than he’s used to. 

Well, he did hold your hands earlier, but that’s because he was bringing you down from a panic attack. That doesn’t mean anything. 

“What a day,” he mutters. 

“And it hasn’t even started yet,” you muse. “I don’t know how you do this kind of shit every day.” 

“I’m not really the target of any of this,” he says. “I usually stay behind the scenes. I’m good with geographical profiles, not chasing down unsubs.” 

You look over at him. “You haven’t really talked about anything you do for the BAU.” 

Spencer shrugs. “I thought it would be a sore subject.” 

You pause. “You’re… probably right.” 

“I figured.” He chuckles, then glances over at you. “But you already know enough about me. You said you would talk about your job. Teaching, and your kids, and all that.” 

Your eyebrows rise. “You actually care?”

Spencer gives you a look. “I thought we were past that part in our friendship.”

“We’re not friends.”

He shrugs. “Whatever you say.”

You roll your eyes, but you go on anyway. “I’m a highschool teacher in Fairfax. You know Mount Vernon High?” 

Spencer nods. “I know the name of every high school in Virginia.” 

“Of course you do,” you huff. “But that’s besides the point. I did my student teacher hours there, and they offered me a full time position. I took it, so I guess I’ve been there since senior year.” You purse your lips. “It’s a little depressing when you look at it like that.” 

“Then don’t look at it like that,” he say. “You said you loved your job.” 

“I do!” You smile again, a bit lighter this time. “My teachers were a huge part of my life, especially in high school.” The lightness fades some, but he notices how you try to hide it. “If I could help even one kid the same way my teachers helped me, then I would have done something with my life.” 

“That’s very noble of you,” Spencer says. “I don’t think I ever would have guessed you were a teacher.” 

“Oh, please,” you say. “You’re a profiler. You’d figure it out.” 

“You wouldn’t know I work with the FBI at first glance.” 

“Well, I’m not a profiler. Besides,” you tip a shoulder, “I have the ulterior motive of wanting to introduce kids to the wonders of physics.” 

Spencer’s eyes light up. “You’re a physics teacher?” 

“I teach a load of science classes, but I carry the banner for AP physics.” You huff a laugh. “You’re probably the only one that doesn’t sound lame to.” 

“I love physics!” he exclaims. “I’ve got a PhD in engineering, remember?” 

You smile— no, you actually grin at him, and he can’t believe he finally broke through the barrier with science. 

“Trust me, I’d love to talk physics with you, boy genius, but—” you’re interrupted with a yawn, and Spencer resists the urge to do the same— “but I think I’m actually about to fall asleep.”  

Spencer shakes his head with a small laugh. He realizes that he’s relaxed while you’ve been talking, limbs looser and fully laying back against the pillows. 

“This was actually part of my master plan to get you to rest,” he says. “Talking science always works with the team.” 

He sees you smile out of his peripherals as you lay fully down, can feel every shift of your body against the mattress while you try to find a good position. 

“It wasn’t you,” you say. “It was the vodka.” 

 “Of course,” he agrees. 

Silence falls over the room as the two of you settle in. You take off your sweatshirt, a slight shiver running through you once you’re back in your tank top. Spencer removes his glasses, and he blinks a few times to adjust to the blurriness.

The bed is big enough for you to both have your own space,, and you’re both careful to keep your backs to each other. The silence is comfortable despite the previous animosity. Maybe all it really did take was for him to start talking science. 

Eventually, though—

“Thank you, Spencer.” Your voice is little more than a whisper, but it cuts through the silence like a knife. “I— I know you don’t like me. So it means a lot that you still do all this for me.” 

He’s quiet for a moment, taking your words in. The mingled sounds of your breathing are really the only things filling the room, and he can feel your weight against the mattress. It’s all oddly intimate. 

“You’re wrong.” He’s almost surprised at the sound of his own voice. “I do like you.” 

Your shock shows through the silence. Spencer takes his chance. 

“You’re going through something no one should ever have to experience, and you’re doing it with someone you think stole your life from you.” Spencer shifts ever so slightly. His hands feel inexplicably clammy. “It was unfair of me to take Gideon’s side so often.” 

“Still.” Your words are muffled as you speak half into the mattress. “We have more important things to worry about. It was unfair of me to spend so much time giving you shit. You— you didn’t even know I existed until a month ago.” 

“But now I do.” He pauses. “And I’m glad I do. So you can start looking forward instead of always looking back.” 

Again, silence. It lasts so long Spencer wonders if you’ve fallen asleep. Your breathing is thankfully steady (a side of him is always focused on your breathing just to make sure) and you don’t shift much, so he wouldn’t be surprised. You were exhausted—

“Spencer?” 

His eyes open. He didn’t even realize they had closed. You sound half-asleep, your voice nothing more than a whisper. He wishes more than anything he knew what was going through your mind right now. 

“Yeah?” 

“I’m glad you’re here.” 

His heart stutters so blatantly he’s sure you can hear it. Spencer honestly doesn’t know what to say—his mouth is so dry he doesn’t know if he can say anything. 

Spencer thought you hated him. You thought Spencer hated you. 

It’s ironic. 

“Me too,” he eventually manages. 

But there’s no response. You must’ve already fallen asleep again, just conscious enough to say a few words. The rude awakening mixed with the fear and alcohol couldn’t have done you much good. 

Spencer swallows the doubt in his throat and closes his eyes again, trying not to focus on you. It’s practically impossible. 

He’s glad, at least, that you’re able to sleep. You deserve to rest more than anyone. 

Eventually, the sound of your breathing lulls Spencer to sleep. 

You were the one thing he didn’t have on his list.

[fagsystem]

This would mean Tim stays at the 3rd Robin and that is both hilarious and can create such a compelling narrative.

He and Steph having a shared history... Did they date prior to her death? How close were they?

It would make Tim being Robin so much more personal. It being to preserve the legacy of someone he cared for so deeply. He wouldn't let Batman's grief destroy it, he knows what it meant to her. But would he dare say it out loud? Would he be capable of admitting that it's not just for the greater good? That would mean accepting she is gone, nothing more than a legacy.

And Steph... Did she know Tim knew about her being Robin? Maybe she did maybe she didn't. All she knew was that she died and instead of grieving her, someone she cared for took her place. Had it all been a ruse? Bidding his time until the moment to live out his hero boy fantasies presented itself?

How complicated the reveal would be.

Tim would be overjoyed at her being alive. Of course he would be. But she had become the very sort of murderer he had to fight tooth and nail to prevent Batman from becoming-- all to preserve a legacy he thought she wanted.

Perhaps, while fleeing instead of fighting, he would try and make her understand it was for her. That he was just trying to protect what she had been fighting for.

'I never asked you to,' Steph would say. She would mean more than just that. She never asked to be his muse, she was sick of being a pawn not a person. A motivation, not a person. Not a dead loved one. A made up end to justify his means, that's how he viewed her.

But she was a person. One who had not been truly avenged, despite how much people like Tim claimed to have cared for her.

Titans tower was personal. It was about crushing any lies Tim was telling himself about her wants being his motivation. No, she would show him what she wanted.

She wanted others to avenge the child soldier who died at the hands of a monster that didn't deserve to live. She didn't want to have to do it herself. She wanted Batman to do it--for Tim to help.

If Tim really cared about her, he would take off the uniform and help her confront Batman. He would help set up getting Batman to choose to kill the Joker, and do it himself if Batman refused. If Tim was just doing things for her he could do that, it would be all she'd ever ask of him.

But it would not be something he could give.

In part he couldn't accept that the girl he once knew would want that. He feared her regretting something she could never take back.

Deep down he knew it didn't matter. He couldn't do it either way. Even if he couldn't accept it, he knew even if she truly meant it, he couldn't. He was a hero in his own right, one crafted specifically to stop Bruce from becoming a murderer. He knew the world would never recover. And the world meant more than him.

He would hold onto the idea that Steph was just understandably traumatised. It was just a trauma response. He could fix things. He brought Bruce back from his spiral, and sure Steph was further along but he could fix it. And he would still love her every step of the way as he did.

And Steph? Steph would hear the heroic delusion in Tim's voice as says, "You don't really want that. You're not a killer, Steph. You're better than him." The confidence, the naivety. Something she might have once thought.

Tim would learn the hard way, just like she did. If she lets him live long enough to.

(And maybe she wouldn't be able to kill the naive part of herself that truly believed he loved her. The part that was singing at his devotion to what he thought she wanted--the part that knew deep down that if you asked her before she died she would say she did want this. That he did everything she ever could have and would have asked, if she had known to.

But she wasn't that person anymore, so she wasn't going to think about it too hard. She knew better. Even if he did have any 'feelings', which she doubted, they were for the idea of her. The fantasy of a dead girl. Not the woman who came back.)

I love the Reverse Robins au but everyone always forgets Steph, because if you go with the whole “second Robin dies thing” Steph as Red Hood would be sick as fuck. I’m begging someone to draw some Steph Hood.

[hivemuthur]

could we get some pervert!Viktor who stays up late at night touching himself to the thought of you? 🙏🙏🙏

YES, because this kept me up until now! The concept is there, changed a bit :') Never wrote something so fast, I swear to the old gods and new :v

What Brings You In?

solo viktor (gn!reader mentioned) explicit! I don't know what to say, it's just smut :v

word count: 1,6K

@rennethen beta read 🖤

—

Simple images come first. You, your dishevelled self as you let him in, unannounced, and offer him a little kindness in sharing your food you were just making, unbothered, as you seat him at the table in your kitchen with a gentle press on his shoulders and go back to your dismembering of mushrooms that you haven’t thought to wash before he came in, because you were about to eat alone, but he of course, doesn’t know that. And you don’t tell him, deciding it won’t kill him, most likely, or at least you hope so. With the corner of his eye, he watches you sink your thumbs in the legs, sliding in with your fingernails to split the umbrellas in half and toss them onto the hot sprinkling oil. Pouring more on top, adding three pinches of salt uncaringly, some grains falling on the table as he watches them bounce off.

Then, he watches you, as he tries to squeeze any of the words he’s prepared to come out and you show him another kindness by not pressing, just humming and stomping around quietly on your naked feet. And he has nothing for or against feet but were your feet about to stomp his face flat into the floor, or, in a better life, into the soft foam of the mattress, he would let you and he would lick your soles with gratitude while pulling his needy hands to feel the shape of your ankles.

When suddenly a clattering sound startles his poor soul as you drop your spoon, it falls between the table legs, and you mutter a soft curse. And then, without warning, you drop on your all fours, so he can see the soles of your feet that he thinks nothing of, and your curling toes and he dares not to look further, it’s only his eyes that betray him.

They wander up in a quick glance as his putrid brain has to decide fast whether to have the most likely shape of your ass or the crease of your calves etched into it, when he’s betrayed again and what his mind chooses is the arch of your back as you reach between the legs. And now the vision of you spread on all fours entered from behind is all that fits in his head the same way he hopes that he would fit inside you—hardly.

In this feverish dream, Viktor whines loudly enough to be heard—had anyone been in the vicinity of his bedroom—yet not loudly enough to wake himself. His hand travels palm flat, as the fantasy version of you kneels with your ass up and your chest down and the fantasy version of him has two healthy legs that allow him to kneel as well, right behind you so his cock can slide between your thighs until skin touches skin. The fantasy version of his hand pushes on the small of your back to deepen the arch, pressing your torso further down until you mutter a soft curse at the sole shape he bends you into, the same soft curse you’ve muttered in your kitchen above the sprinkling oil. Ideally his name follows.

His hips jut into the foam and cock rubs against his stomach and the cloth of his pants and he moans again, for you, but no one can hear it. Again, he is in your kitchen, when you set the simple meal before him and pass him the fork, and he does his worst not to touch your fingers as he accepts it. Fingertips linger and you smile softly, tucking a stray strand of hair behind his ear and tell him to eat first, with something that sounds dangerously close to care. As your lips move, he memorizes their shape and wonders if the shape of his lips would fit between them, if the shape of his cock could be pressed there and would you drool has he given it to you.

It's your lips now that plague him, with you back on your knees, your tongue stuck out and it’s so very red and pretty Viktor can’t make himself decide whether he is the one that wants to suck on it, or he wants it to partake in sucking him. Nothing that is happening between his legs at the moment is close to what he imagines your mouth would feel like, the dull press of dry skin of his belly pulling his foreskin down and the faint weep of precum at his slit incomparable to what softness you have to offer.

His unconscious mind conducts his hips to snap, making him believe that it’s your lips that he is fucking into, while it’s just the press of the mattress and the waistband of his pants teasing the sweet spot right below where his length ends. His hands fist the bedsheet which in the dream version of this encounter becomes your hair that he tugs on to make your jaw open wider and release gush of wet drool to well onto the ridges of his cock.

With his face pressed against the pillow and hips rutting forth, Viktor dreams of pushing himself past your throat making you release a sweet sound of gagging. He even dares to go thus far to pinch your nose and stare into your teary doe eyes when he leans in to whisper so good, holding your jaw open wide for him. Had you any more space left to move your lips you would curve them into a grateful smile and your eyes would squint with bliss.

Sweat pearls his forehead, it gets wiped on the pillowcase when he writhes in his bedsheets, the images of you filling his sleeping mind, unbidden. Next thing that presents itself to him are your thighs that shake as you scrape the frying pan with your back to him and he can shamelessly watch the jiggle of your ass and the muscles flexing in your legs. And he doesn’t really care if your thighs quiver as you move around or if they quiver as you sink onto him, his hips pressing sharp dents into the tender flesh. He’s granted the vision of his cock disappearing within you, the imaginary sound of skin slapping against skin as your rise and fall and your lips part to gasp for air that he pounds out of you.

As you lift your hips the strings of gooey slick cling to your legs, and slap into a puddle on his navel once you fall with a sharp snap. The tightness of his clothes is nothing compared to what he imagines the inside of you would be, but his body follows the false thread and finally his throat gives in, betrays his restless slumber, when the sound of his whimper strangled against the pillow makes his eyes fall open.

He gasps, unaware of his surroundings, embarrassed of himself and for himself as he lifts his chest to gape between his hips and the bed, where a wet stain blooms and mocks him. He rolls onto his back, cock poking out of his pants and this time it’s Viktor who mutters a curse, though it lands far from your soft ones. He presses the heels of his palms into his eyes, wipes the halo of sweat from his forehead with a sleeve and sighs, long and heavy.

The unbearable tightness of his own skin clinging to him drives him nearly mad, so he sheds the damp clothing and throws himself back onto his soaked sheet with a resigned exhale. Whenever he closes his eyes, he sees you, smiling, gentle, kind and oblivious to the words that never came to him. So to end this painful torment, ease the need that invaded him uninvited, his hand travels down below his navel to stroke his aching cock absently.

Once you are back behind his eyelids, this time it’s his conscious mind that shows him what his heart fears, and you are back there, bent over, your hands fisting the very same sheet he just drenched and he is right behind you, fucking into you with his knuckles whitening around your hips and his other hand reaching between your thighs. The better version of himself bends over your back to lick the sweat from between your shoulder blades and the better version of his hand tugs at the hair on the base of your skull drawing out hopeless moans from your pretty throat.

And even though his real, calloused hand is nowhere near as soft and wet as you would be, he strokes himself hard and dry, free palm caressing his chest, imagining it’s your fingers that trace loving circles on his skin. He whispers your name over and over again and in the moment when his balls pull up and his stomach coils unbearably, he imagines kissing your sweet lips and saying all the words he can’t bring himself to say around you. And he imagines you kissing him back and accepting the words.

He cums all over his belly and around his fingers clasped on his cock with a hot groan and a tension in his neck in a few scorching spurts. His hips jolt up, tensing up his spine, toes curl and legs stretch far beyond the mattress. Laying there spent and bathed in his seed, he spreads it on his chest, imagining it’s you’re your tongue licking him clean and brings it up to his mouth, imagining it’s your mouth that carries it into his in a loving, debauched kiss. Dirty and tired, Viktor blinks and thinks, time after time and once he’s empty it’s only the image of you in your kitchen, laughing warmly at his jokes, and pressing your hand to his in silence, when you finally ask, “So what brings you in?”

[xxdedboixx]

~ Selfish (and Jealous) ~

One Piece Captains

How selfish are each of the captains when it comes to your attention? And just how much more selfish they can be when they become jealous.

NSFW for each captain below the red lines.

18+ MDNI

Luffy

Luffy is accidentally very very selfish. It doesn't even really cross his mind that he could possibly be being selfish and if someone brings it up all he thinks to say is "Well I AM a pirate" with a laugh and exaggerated shrug.

He'll just butt into conversations you're having, either running over to show you something cool or just wrapping himself around you in a tight hug to listen in. Maybe he'll even dramatically kiss your cheek just to make you laugh.

When he's intentionally being selfish it's a whole other deal though. He is suddenly one of the most jealous people ever. For example, you might be talking with a captain of another crew or gushing about how strong someone is. As soon as he hears praise for someone else he is right beside you, pouting or otherwise trying to draw your attention. "Hey I'm supposed to be the coolest guy you know" an exaggerated pout is permanently stuck on his face and he's glaring at the other person. If he doesn't manage to draw your attention though he will wrap his arms around you and run off with you (sometimes this is the first step of he's feeling particularly neglected that day).

Jealous of the other captains (Law and Kid mainly)? He will immediately be starting a fight for your affection. You mention one of their attacks is cool? He's immediately showing off the "super secret epic move" he's been "working on" (he probably just made it up completely on the spot). You like their style? He's pouting and grumbling about how his hat is so much cooler.

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When it comes to the bedroom Luffy is yet again accidentally selfish. It's not necessarily a bad things though because the way he is selfish isn't what you may think.

Instead of focusing on his own pleasure he is just so focused on the moment. You have his undivided attention and he is not letting a second go to waste. This also means you need to be focused on him though. Any time he is not touching you is time wasted if you ask him.

He's selfish in terms of not listening to you. Yes how you feel is important but what you say isn't. He is 100% accidentally overstimulating you because he just can't get enough of how you sound.

I also firmly believe that he prefers to focus on you rather than taking care of his own needs. He will only stop touching you when he absolutely can't hold back anymore and even when he is actually fucking you he is still groping you in every way possible.

How about how selfish he would be if someone else was involved? He probably just accidentally ignores them, forgetting they're even there sometimes just because he wants to hear you even more. If he does remember that someone else is there then he's gushing about you and showing off how good he can make you feel. You always have to be the focus of both of their attention, he just won't allow it to be any other way.

Trafalgar Law

Law isn't really selfish but he's not not selfish y'know? He has a good handle on his emotions for the most part so it's rare he actually lets any selfishness or jealousy seep through the calm and smug facade.

He also knows that you wouldn't be dating if you liked anyone else so he doesn't really get jealous.

If he wants your attention then he's probably going to be selfish and immediately ask that you come to his office just to spend time with him, no matter what you're doing. And since he is your captain you have to obey (he likes to pull the captain card a lot). But if he's content just doing his own work then he doesn't really mind letting you do your own thing.

If you're talking to someone else when he wants your attention there's 2 options. Option 1, he calls you into his office, maybe whoever you're talking to even thinks you're in trouble with the way he says your name, but he's actually just tired and needs your attention to refill his battery. Option 2, you're mid conversation and then you're in his room. This is usually much more of a last resort. He might use this method when you are refusing to go to bed or when you're ignoring him for whatever reason.

He knows it's selfish to want you to spend most of your time in his general vicinity but he just can't bring himself to care. You both might like time to yourselves but that doesn't mean you can't have your alone time in the same room.

He doesn't really get jealous when you hang out with other people but he does prefer it if you stay near him, he'll tolerate other people talking to you as long as it remains friendly and if they try to flirt, then you don't flirt back.

When it comes to the other captains (Luffy and Kid) he won't intervene in the dramatic way the others would. He prefers to be more casual, he might just wander over an arm around your waist or shoulder. He isn't one for PDA but sometimes he just has to show off his claim over you. He might even whisper a joke in your ear to irritate the others or make a sly remark about them.

The way he feels when you interact with them could be considered jealousy but he would probably just say that they irritate him and he doesn't want you wasting time on them.

If you mention something cool that the other captains have done, he doesn't do much more than raise an eyebrow at you, maybe it even irritates him but you won't necessarily know until later. If it irritates him enough then... Well check out the NSFW section.

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If you manage to make Law actually jealous then he might just take it out on you in the bedroom. In reference to what I mentioned before. If you talk too highly of the other captains then he is going to tease you endlessly. "Do you think those idiots could make you feel as good as I do?" His fingers might lightly trace over every sensitive place he can think of. "Come on, you talked so highly of them, where's my praise?" He won't let you finish, edging you until you're gasping out apologies. Even then, it's not an apology he's after, it's the satisfaction of knowing that even if they are 'cool', they could never make you feel the way he does.

When you're having sex otherwise he doesn't really seem selfish or jealous. He's actually very giving. Unlike Luffy, he will do whatever you ask him, if you've been good and you ask him nicely enough. He loves it when you beg (I'll probably make another post about this at some point).

I doubt he'd be comfortable with anyone else watching but if it ever did happen then he would be the one completely in control, giving orders. He might be sitting on the other side of the room and instructing them how to treat you, or he might tell them to just watch so he can show off how well he knows you. He's definitely making sure you are the centre of attention.

Eustass Kid

Kid is insanely selfish and very easily made jealous.

He lets his emotions get the better of him so if he's jealous everyone knows (even if he denies it).

He hates when you interact with anyone outside of his crew. Even going as far as making sure you are never sent to go shopping alone. It's not that he doesn't trust you, he just prefers that you have a guard dog to make sure no one even thinks of hurting you or trying to take you away.

If he wants your attention then he is going to yell your name and demand that you accompany him, he'll claim he just needs your help if anyone asks but in reality he just wants you by his side. Like how Killer is never too far away, he just likes to know what's going on and prefers to have you close by.

He wouldn't get jealous of his own crew per se (because he trusts his crew and friends a lot) but if he notices you spend more time with anyone in particular he might become more irritable. If you both have down time and choose to hang out with someone other than him he is probably going to seek you out and hang out with both of you. It won't necessarily improve his mood and he'll probably sit there glaring at you both (after all you chose to spend time with someone other than him) but at least he can spend time with you.

The only person he could never be jealous of is Killer because he trusts him completely and I would even go as far as to say that he shares everything with Killer.

Because he's pretty much always keeping an eye on you, the moment one of the other captains gets too close to you he is by your side, hurling insults and taunting them. "Why are you wasting time talking to these losers?" "Get back to work." Any excuse he can make to keep you away from them. Again, he trusts you but he just gets so jealous. The idea of them wasting even a second of your time irritates him beyond comprehension.

If you insist on talking to the captains or compliment them in any way, he becomes insanely angry. You are not spared from his wrath either. If you compliment them when they aren't around then he's just gonna curse under his breath and probably call you an idiot. If you compliment them to their face then he curses and storms off. "Fine if you like their company so much stay here then!" "Fucking idiot, complimenting this trash." Anyone who witnesses him storm off will immediately jump out of the way and probably avoid him for the rest of the day. Eventually if you confront him about it he'll shout about how he's the only one who deserves your praise. He's selfish so the mere thought of you complimenting someone else fills him with rage, those are his compliments, his attention, you are his.

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When it comes to the bedroom his selfish side really shines through. He's going to make sure you enjoy yourself but he's also a bit of a sadist so if he wants you to beg for it then you are going to beg. I also firmly believe he is the king of degrading praise.

"my pretty little whore" "such a good slut for me huh?"

If you've pissed him off then he is going to leave you there without letting you finish. But other times he is still focused mainly on himself but he will consider how good you're feeling, it boosts his ego to know that even when he is the main focus he can still make you feel just as good.

If you've made him jealous then he's going to show you just how much better he is. He will not stop until you are crying out, whimpering that you didn't mean to make him jealous, that he's the only one you admire and that he's the only one who can make you feel so good.

Kid would also probably be the most likely to involve someone else. Obviously the first person to come to mind is Killer but I don't doubt he would also be ok with sharing with a couple other members of his crew (the other two who immediately come to mind are Wire and Heat). As long as it's both of them dominating you then I think he'd be very very into it. He'd give the others tips and taunt you for getting off to the idea of both of them.

Although he's easily made jealous normally, because he has so much control in the bedroom it takes a lot more to make him jealous.

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If you've made it this far thank you very much and please check out my GoFundMe to raise money for my top surgery. I also take requests but will be more inclined to respond if there is any type of donation attached (even just $1 because everything counts)

[ivyues]

Echos of Home: Stray Kids' reactions to their S/O not being close with their parents

Bang Chan

The front door clicks shut, quieter than usual, but it’s enough for Chris to hear from the living room. He frowns, glancing at the time on his phone. You weren’t supposed to be back for another few hours.

“Babe?” His voice carries through the apartment as he stands up, walking toward the entryway. When he sees you, his expression softens, but there’s still a flicker of concern in his eyes. “You’re back early.”

You nod, setting your bag down a little too carefully, like you’re keeping yourself in check. “Yeah. I’m back.”

He studies you for a moment, his head tilting slightly the way it does when he’s trying to piece something together. He knows – has always known – that things with your parents aren’t exactly smooth. There’s no big, dramatic fallout, no abusive history, just a constant, lingering sense of not quite fitting in with them. Conversations that feel like walking through a minefield, small comments that chip away at you, a love that never feels warm enough.

Chris takes a step closer, reaching for your hand. “What happened?”

You shrug, not really wanting to get into it. “Nothing new.”

His thumb brushes over your knuckles, grounding, patient. “Wanna talk about it?”

You shake your head. “Not really.”

He just tugs you into his arms, wrapping you up in a hug that is nothing like the ones you get from your parents – half-hearted, obligatory. No, this one is firm, warm, steady. You melt into it before you even realize how much you needed it.

His chin rests atop your head, his voice gentle. “You know you don’t have to go if you don’t want to, right?”

You close your eyes, exhaling slowly. “I know.”

“And you know that no matter what, you always have a home here with me?”

Your throat tightens, but in a good way. In a way that makes you feel safe. “Yeah,” you murmur. “I know.”

Chris squeezes you a little tighter before swaying side to side, humming softly. You’re home. That’s all that matters.

Lee Know

It wasn’t unusual for you to be at his parent’s house; in fact, it was almost expected at this point. His parents had practically adopted you into their family, treating you like one of their own. His mom always insisted you stay for dinner, and his dad would ask you about school or work like he would his own son. With the cats curling at your side, it felt warm here – comfortable, safe.

That’s why, when Lee Know casually mentioned, “You know, I think you spend more time at my parents’ house than at your own parents’,” with a teasing smile, he didn’t expect the way your body tensed ever so slightly.

It was brief, almost imperceptible, but he caught it.

You let out a small laugh, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Maybe you're right.”

He didn’t press, not yet, but the thought lingered in his mind. And then, as if the idea had just struck him, he said, “Maybe next time, I should come over to your place. Your parents probably think I don’t exist.”

Your reaction was immediate. A flicker of hesitation crossed your face, and for a moment, you looked like you wanted to say something – anything – but then, you just shrugged. “They’re busy,” you said vaguely. “They wouldn’t really care.”

That didn’t sit right with him. You had always been good at avoiding certain topics, but this one was different. This wasn’t just avoidance – it was reluctance, something deeper.

He tilted his head slightly, his voice softening. “You never really talk about them.”

You forced a smile. “There’s not much to talk about.”

Lee Know didn’t push. He knew you well enough to understand that if he did, you’d only retreat further into yourself. Instead, he nudged your arm lightly. “Well, if they’re too busy, you know that you can come over any time. I start to think that my mom already likes you better than me.”

Changbin

Changbin slumped onto the couch beside you, letting out a dramatic sigh. “When was the last time you even visited your parents?” he joked, nudging your shoulder playfully.

You snorted, rolling your eyes. “Oh, you know,” you said with heavy sarcasm, “got yelled at for every life decision I’ve ever made. Good times.”

The teasing glint in Changbin’s eyes disappeared in an instant. He frowned, tilting his head to get a better look at your expression, but you avoided his gaze, pretending to scroll through your phone. His heart sank at the forced nonchalance in your voice.

“Wait… what do you mean?” His voice softened, laced with concern.

You shrugged, trying to play it off. “You know how they are. Nothing I do is ever right. I could be a literal millionaire and they’d still find a way to tell me I messed up.” You let out a small, humorless laugh. “It’s just how it is.”

Changbin didn’t laugh. He didn’t even smile. “That’s not how it should be, though,” he murmured. “You deserve better than that.”

You blinked at his sincerity, feeling a lump form in your throat. “It’s fine, Bin. I’m used to it.”

He sighed, shifting closer so your shoulders touched. “That doesn’t make it okay,” he countered, his brows knitting together in frustration. 

You hesitated for a moment before speaking again, voice barely above a whisper. “Sometimes, I wonder if I could ever be a good mom,” you admitted. “like… I never really got to experience what having a good mom feels like. What if I mess up the way they did?”

Changbin’s eyes softened, and he gently cupped your cheek, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Hey,” he said firmly. “You are already so full of love and care. The fact that you worry about that proves you’re going to be amazing. You won’t be like them. You get to choose the kind of parent you want to be.”

Your heart swelled at his words, warmth spreading through your chest. You had always carried the weight of your strained relationship with your parents alone.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “I know.”

Hyunjin

Hyunjin had never been one to push too hard when it came to personal matters. He understood boundaries, respected them even. But every time the topic of parents came up – his or yours – you always managed to steer the conversation elsewhere. And most importantly, you had never once mentioned introducing him to them.

At first, he brushed it off, thinking you were just taking things slow. But after nearly a year together, it stung. It made him wonder if there was a reason, a reason that had everything to do with him.

That thought festered in his chest until one evening, it finally slipped out.

“Do you not want me to meet your parents?” His voice was soft, uncertain.

You blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

“I mean… we’ve been together for a while now, but you never bring it up.” He forced a small chuckle, trying to keep his tone light even though it felt anything but. “I just… I guess I can’t help but wonder if it’s because of me.”

Your heart sank at the vulnerability in his voice. “Hyunjin—”

“Is it because I’m an idol?” He cut in before you could explain. “I know that might be weird for some parents, and if that’s the case, I get it. But I just—” He exhaled sharply, running a hand over his hair. “I don’t know. It feels like you don’t want to include me in that part of your life.”

You swallowed hard, guilt settling in.

“Hyunjin, it’s not that I don’t want you to meet them,” you said carefully, fingers gripping the fabric of your sleeves. “It’s just… my relationship with my parents isn’t great. It’s complicated.”

His eyes searched yours, confusion flickering across his face. “Complicated how?”

You hesitated. “We don’t really… talk much. When we do, it’s tense. We just don’t see eye to eye on a lot of things.”

Hyunjin’s expression softened slightly. “Then why didn’t you just tell me that?”

“Because I didn’t want to talk about it,” you admitted. “It’s messy and frustrating, and I didn’t want to drag you into that.”

“But I want to be dragged into it,” he said, leaning forward. “I want to understand what’s going on in your life. That includes the bad parts, too.”

You looked away, the weight of his words settling in. “I guess… I was embarrassed.”

Hyunjin’s brows furrowed. “Embarrassed?”

“I don’t have the kind of parents who are loving and supportive,” you admitted, voice quieter now. “And I didn’t want you to see that and think less of me.”

“Y/N, I would never think less of you because of something like that.” He reached for your hand, squeezing it gently. “I just wanted to understand. I thought… I thought you didn’t want me to meet them because of me.”

You exhaled shakily. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.”

Hyunjin shook his head, lips pressing into a thin line before he let out a breath. “I just want you to trust me enough to talk to me about these things.”

“I do,” you said quickly. “I just… I didn’t know how.”

Han

"So you don’t want me to meet your parents?" Han repeated, his voice softer than you expected. Not quite hurt or offended – just… concerned.

You swallowed hard, nodding. "It’s not that I don’t want you to. I just— I don’t think it’s a good idea."

He tilted his head, studying you. "Can you tell me why?"

You hesitated. Han had always been so good at making you feel safe, but there was still a deep-rooted instinct inside you that told you to keep this part of your life locked away. It wasn’t that your parents were abusive, not in the way people might think, but they had never really seen you. Not truly. Their love came with conditions, with expectations you could never quite meet.

"I just… I don’t want to put you in a situation where you're not treated well," you admitted, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. "They don’t respect me, Han. And since you’re with me, they won’t respect you either. I don’t want that for you."

"I get it," he said quietly, his voice steady. "And I love that you’re thinking about me. But, baby… you don’t have to protect me from them."

You opened your mouth to argue, but he shook his head before you could.

"I’m not saying we have to go to a family dinner or anything," he continued. "But you don’t have to carry this alone. I know it’s complicated, and I know it sucks. But I don’t want you to think that you have to shield me from this part of your life just because you’ve been dealing with it alone for so long."

Your throat tightened. "But they’ll—"

"They can think whatever they want about me," he interrupted gently. "What matters is what you think. And if they don’t respect you, that’s on them. That’s not a reflection of who you are, and it’s definitely not going to change how I see you."

You exhaled shakily. "I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready to let you meet them. I've spent too much time hoping they'll change."

Han smiled, squeezing your hands reassuringly. "That’s okay. We’ll take it at your pace. Just… don’t shut me out, okay? I want to be here for you. For everything."

Felix

Felix stretched his arms, groaning slightly as he leaned back against the couch. The two of you had been catching up on life the whole evening. He had just been telling you about his latest video call with his parents, laughing about how his mom still worried if he was eating enough.

"Honestly," he said between bites of the cookies he had brought over, "I think I see my parents more often than you see yours."

You froze, your fingers tightening around the mug of tea you were holding. The playful lilt in his voice made it clear that he hadn’t meant any harm, but the words hit you harder than you expected. Your mind ran through the last time you had actually visited your parents.

Felix must have noticed your sudden stillness, because when you looked up at him, his brows were slightly furrowed, eyes searching yours. 

"You’re not wrong," you admitted quietly, sipping your tea to avoid his gaze. "I think you really do."

"Oh. I— I didn’t mean to... I was just joking."

"I know," offering him a small smile. "It’s just… true."

A beat of silence stretched between you. Felix set his cookie down, shifting closer until his knee bumped against yours. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

You hesitated. It wasn’t that you never talked about your parents, but it always felt exhausting to explain the complicated mess that was your relationship with them. They weren’t cruel or absent, just distant – close enough to be in your life, but never truly present.

"Not much to say, really," you murmured. "We just don’t talk much. It’s always… weird. Like we don’t know how to be around each other."

Felix listened, nodding. "That sounds really lonely."

Your lips parted slightly, caught off guard by the simple truth in his words. "Yeah," you admitted, voice barely above a whisper. "It kinda is."

Felix didn’t say anything at first. "You know," he said, voice warm and sure, "family doesn’t have to be just the people you’re born with."

Your chest tightened, not with sadness, but with something gentler.

Felix grinned, before nudging you playfully. "Well, for what it’s worth, my parents love adopting people into the family. You might already be part of it without knowing."

Seungmin

The living room was quiet except for the occasional tapping of Seungmin’s phone as he scrolled, stretched out comfortably on your couch. You sat beside him, your head resting against the couch cushion, feeling the warmth of his presence next to you. 

Then, your phone buzzed on the coffee table.

Mom flashed across the screen.

Seungmin glanced at it briefly before looking at you, expecting you to reach for it. But instead, you pressed decline without a second thought.

He blinked, his brows furrowing slightly. "You’re not gonna answer?"

You shrugged. "Nope."

He sat up a little, setting his phone down. "Why not? It could be important."

"Unlikely," you muttered, avoiding his gaze.

The confusion on his face lingered for a moment before realization set in. "You don’t really talk to her much, do you?"

You sighed, leaning back against the couch. "Not if I can help it."

Seungmin didn’t respond right away, just watched you carefully. When he spoke again, his voice was softer. "You guys don’t get along?"

"Not really," you admitted. "We just... don’t see things the same way. Talking always turns into a disagreement, and honestly, it’s exhausting. It’s easier to just not deal with it."

Seungmin hummed, a quiet sound of understanding. 

For a moment, he just sat there, thinking. Then, without warning, he leaned over and lightly nudged your shoulder with his own. "You don’t have to pretend you’re fine."

You glanced at him, surprised by how easily he saw through you.

He tilted his head, his expression unreadable yet undeniably gentle. "You’re allowed to be upset about it. You don’t have to act like it doesn’t bother you."

Something in your chest loosened. You hadn’t even realized how much tension you’d been carrying until now.

"Thanks," you murmured.

He gave you a small, reassuring smile. "Anytime." 

I.N

You sighed as you scrolled through your messages, the same feeling of disappointment creeping in. Your parents had sent another message in the family group chat – one of their usual updates about your sibling, filled with admiration and excitement. You were happy for them, truly. But every time you saw their name being praised while yours was barely acknowledged, the ache in your chest deepened.

I.N sat beside you on the couch, watching your face shift from neutral to something more distant. He nudged your arm gently. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

You hesitated before tilting your phone toward him. He skimmed the messages, his features tightening as he put the pieces together. He already knew the story – how your relationship with your parents had grown distant ever since you chose a different path, how they seemed to relate more to your sibling, leaving you feeling like an outsider in your own family. He also knew you weren’t looking for pity.

Instead of offering empty words, I.N put your phone aside. “Does it hurt?” he asked quietly.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “A little,” you admitted. “I mean, I moved out as soon as I could, and I’ve been independent for a while, so I shouldn’t care so much. But… it’s like no matter what I do, I’m not enough for them.”

I.N frowned. “That’s not true. You are enough. They just… don’t see you the way they should, and that’s on them, not you.”

You looked at him, feeling a flicker of warmth in his gaze. He wasn’t trying to fix it. He wasn’t telling you to move on or pretend it didn’t matter. 

“You’ve built a life for yourself that you love, haven’t you?” he continued. “That takes courage. And just because they don’t recognize it doesn’t make it any less real.”

A small, wobbly smile broke through your somber expression.

I.N grinned, giving your hand a playful squeeze. “I just know you. And I know that you deserve to be seen, to be valued. Even if they don’t show it, I will.”

You exhaled, leaning into him, resting your head on his shoulder. “Thank you, Innie.”

masterlist

[nightplvmes]

*.⊹˚ SYLUS | surprise dinner (valentine's day)

── ◜sylus x fem!reader — ◜short special | specials from the rest of the LIs on my profile

Everything had gone wrong. From the moment she woke up that morning she must have known that everything was going to go wrong.

First it started with her alarm going off. She woke up two hours later than she was supposed to and had missed the delivery time for the dessert she had ordered. It was a famous and expensive bakery, they had been very strict when they said that if she didn't arrive on time or at least half an hour later she wouldn't receive her order. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

She thought maybe she could convince them to change their minds, but on her way to the bakery, her car's tire had gone flat. She ended up taking it to a garage and took a taxi back to home.

As if the day hadn't been bad enough. The dinner she had in mind also went wrong. She had burned a significant portion of the meal and didn't have time to start over. Around 5pm she had called Sylus to tell him that they couldn't meet that day because she had a problem. Lies and lies.

Sylus didn't say anything to her except that he understood and hung up. In her mind she was relieved that he hadn't been upset about ruining their first Valentine's Day. In Sylus' mind it was a different story. He had noticed her shaky voice because he know the way her voice sounded different after crying. Something was wrong.

It was already quite late when she returned home after searching for her favorite ice cream in three different stores. She couldn't even be sad in peace because she hadn't found the stupid ice cream.

Sylus had sent her a text while she was out but she wasn't sure what it meant. See you tonight. When she asked what it meant she got no reply. They weren't supposed to have a date until tomorrow, she had called him a couple of hours ago and he said it was fine.

When she got home everything was dark, she was almost sure that she had left more than one light on. She hated coming home and tripping over everything, plus her cat was always walking around. She walked in the darkness until she saw a flash of light shining in the dining room. She walked slowly and felt the air escape from her lungs.

He was there.

But he wasn't just there. He had prepared dinner, the room was dimly lit by the candles and everything was perfectly arranged. How had he done that in such a short time?

"Sy…" She felt the bag with the ice cream slip from her fingers. Her lips were parted and she felt like she couldn't breathe. Her eyes stung with tears.

"I got some information," he started speaking, setting something down on the table before walking over to her. "About the things that went wrong for you today."

She narrowed her eyes, confused, but it didn’t take her long to realize what he was talking about. Had Mephisto been following her? She had been distracted for most of the day, but not enough for her not to have noticed a black crow following her.

"I thought our date would be tomorrow," she said once the urge to cry had settled a little.

"I can leave if you want," he joked, closing the distance between them. She felt his arms wrap around her, and a shiver ran down her spine.

Maybe she had overreacted by canceling all her Valentine’s Day plans because of how badly her day had gone. But that afternoon, when she had sat on the couch, replaying everything that had gone wrong, she had felt awful—too drained to even get up and get ready.

"No." She shook her head quickly, her hand sliding up to the back of his neck, fingers threading into his hair and tugging gently. "You didn’t have to do this," she murmured, feeling Sylus’ breath against her face.

"Stop saying that." He tightened his hold on her hips. He would do anything for her—he had told her that over and over again.

She rose onto her tiptoes, brushing her lips against his one last time before she couldn’t hold back any longer. Finally, she kissed him. The urge to cry rushed back for a few seconds. She had given up—had accepted that her first Valentine’s Day with her boyfriend was going to be a complete disaster.

But now she was here, in Sylus’ arms, feeling how perfectly his lips fit with hers. A gasp escaped from her lips when she felt Sylus start to move backward, making her follow. Her back hit the wall, but his hand was already there, stopping her from hurting herself.

When she finally pulled away from his lips, her breathing was slightly unsteady. She could barely see anything in the dimly lit room, the candles on the dining table casting a warm, romantic glow. When she first met Sylus, it had been… an unconventional beginning. She never would have thought he was the type of person to prepare an entire dinner without her knowing, surprising her when she got home. A lot had changed since then, but she knew a different Sylus now.

"Come here. We can eat your ice cream after dinner."

She let out a little laugh, remembering the bag with over a liter of ice cream she had brought home, planning to eat it while crying over her ruined plans. She picked up the grocery bag that had slipped from her fingers, feeling Sylus intertwine his with hers as he guided her to the dining table.

She was still too dazed to say anything. She just let him pull out the chair for her, set the silverware, and… she was almost sure he had cooked everything himself, not just bought it from some restaurant. After all these years, she had learned to recognize the little details that made it clear when he was the one who had cooked.

The Sylus she had first met might never have done something like this—at least, that’s how he had seemed. But the Sylus she knew now? He would do anything for her.

[squiddy-god]

♡Will you be my valentine?♡

lads x reader

Hehehehe ok ok so i would like to say, keep in mind this is mostly based in american valentines day and not valentines/white day so i tried to mix them, but i'll do white day too. I might make some more spicy hcs later  

Cw ; fluff, gn reader (still mc but written to be inclusive), use of pet names, jealousy, possessiveness. Use of the word “bride” but in a gn way? If you know you know. Use of y/n because what else am i supposed to use?? Caleb slander in zayne’s part vice versa. Xavier, zayne, rafayel, sylus, caleb 

Xavier 

No 

He is not asking to be your valentine, you ARE his valentine and he makes that known so immediately 

The month of february hits and he sees you watching those videos of people sad their partner hasnt asked them to be their valentine and he just goes “good thing you are my valentine” 

Don't correct him and say he hasn't asked

You. are.

I can absolutely see him getting you one of those teddybears with a heart or some other stuffed animal for the holiday but he is immediately beefing

He has beef with the STUFFY HE GOT YOU. 

On a side note i think he 100% is the type to get jealous over your plushies “why do you get to sleep in their bed and i don't?” those snuggles are HIS and he won't share 

If you make him chocolate he is on cloud 9, not only does he get a snack but also its from you and means he's special~

Now if you receive chocolates from someone? Some secret admirer? He is melting those sweets with his gaze- he wants them in the trash 5 seconds ago 

I think he would get you one of those softer springtime bouquets, i feel like it just fits him more 

Zayne 

He is STRUGGLING 

I think he would ask the night before, asking if you'd like to go on a date since it is a special occasion

Based on his 100 days texts he seems like the type who even if it doesn't seem like it holds holidays like this in a surprisingly high regard. So i think he would ask if you would like to be his valentine 

Hehe milkshake date with zayne, one of the cute cheesy ones with the heart straws 

Big fan of the sweets, usually rejects any attempts to give him chocolates but for you he feels himself almost anticipating it, and when it happens he savors them throughout the day 

I think he'd be the type to give you those elegant single roses 

I can also see that he REALLY wanted to be your valentine as a kid, with those chalky candy hearts and little kid cards, he always got one frome you and he kept all of them. Unfortunately there was a dirty mutt preventing him from actually being your childhood valentine 

If you receive chocolate from some kind of admirer he is a little put off, something about it simmers under his skin just a little bit, fortunately this is an easily curd ailment- the prescription of course being 20 doses of kisses. 

Rafayel 

He's lowkey waiting for YOU to ask HIM to be your valentine.

 And he will be pouting about it 

Feel like we don't talk enough about how the little fishie is lowkey a bit scary?? He sees this as the inevitable, you are his, his valentine, his love, his bride 

His fishie <3

When one of you finally cracks and asks the other to be your valentine he is very pleased with himself. 

Long walk on the beach, picnic by the shore where the salty air can kiss your skin 

If you give him chocolate he is scarfing it down high key. Probably plays the weak frail card complaining about how his wrist hurts so clearly you have to feed him 

I can see him getting you those rainbow rose bouquets or one with lots of different colored roses to make a soft but colorful bouquet. 

Now if you received chocolate from an admirer he is pouting 

Whining frfr 

Type to go “oh why don't you go eat THEIR chocolate?” this will either last all of 5 seconds before he is switching it up and demanding kisses as repayment for emotional damages or until you don't give in (5 second max) and he's back to being dramatic 

Don't be shocked if they go missing tho 

Sylus 

Sylus does not simply ask for you to be his valentine, he woos you 

The month of february is his month to shine truly, because it starts small, subtle. 

A flower here and there, a single rose or a little heart 

It's a few days before valentines day and he's thoroughly romanced you when he pulls you close using his evol to ask if you'd like to be his valentine 

The day itself consists of you waking up, bed? Covered in rose petals. Sylus? Holding one of those really big heart shaped rose bouquets made of the glitter roses everyone went crazy for. Then dinner followed by a joyride 

Cough cough the biggest teddy bear he could find in white. 

If you give him chocolates he's sooooooo pleased. Savors them throughout the day and next day thinking about you 

Like i mentioned the rose bouquet game is top tier, his whole house is full of them, every vase full of those deep red roses because he wasn't you to look over and think of him.

Drives you to some obscure far out location to watch the stars for a while, the ride obviously enjoyable but even more so is being in his arms for such a tender moment. 

Now if you receive chocolate from someone he is so so smug, sylus gives off the vibes of like “hmm yes i know my kitten is the best, obviously they cant help but be charmed”  

Caleb 

Hs been your valentine every year since childhood (the dirty mutt in question)  

But this year is the first year he's really going to be your valentine, where he doesn't have to pretend like he doesn't mean it with his whole chest 

That isn't stopping him from teasing you, he wants to get you to admit that you want him to be your valentine

But he is a weak man, and he crumbles at the slightest hint of puppy eyes or pouting 

He is asking you on feb 1st 12:02am to be his valentine  

On the day itself he wakes you up with breakfast, heart shaped pancakes, eggs and your preferred protein 

Definitely writing something like “be mine?” on those pancakes 

I think the bouquet he gives you is a very classic one, roses and baby's breath tied with a silky red ribbon 

If you give him chocolate he is like a excited puppy, he's always given you the chocolate he gets from others, and he's always gotten chocolate from you but this time is special this time it's real 

A cute little day date around the city so he can show off that he won. And it includes those matching built a bear with the voice box. “I love you” “Miss me pipsqueak?” “i'll be home soon, love you” “*smooch smooch smooch smooch noise*” “i miss you so much y/n” for your bear and his has “i love you” “miss you so much caleb” “waiting for you at home, love you” “*smooch smooch smooch smooch*” “we’ll be together soon” and you best believe he is going to be taking that bear with him and playing those lines again and again 

If you get chocolate from someone else he is laughing on the outside but internally it's just “bomb them, keep bombing them-” if he's there when you get them he is absolutely standing behind you ominously to glare down the poor soul trying to shoot their shot. He spent your childhood puppy guarding you from elsa he is not losing now

[babybearnation]

Kimi Oscar and Lando (separately) with soulmate!reader?

i picked different soulmate AUs for each driver since you didn't pick a specific trope - i hope thats okay! also you didn't specify which kimi so i'm doing both :D

gn!reader (soulmate aus)

kimi antonelli - your soulmate can't hear your voice:

ollie had been hyping you up to kimi for months, showing him pictures of you and telling him about all your wonderful traits and habits

its safe to say, kimi was in love with you and he was totally ready to meet you - and soon enough, he would! ollie was bringing you to the first grand prix of the 2025 formula 1 season!

you two meet up via ollie and kimi opens his mouth and greets you and... your eyebrows furrow. you can't hear him and when you talk to ollie, he realises he can't hear you

ollie soon realises what is going on and he laughs, before jokingly offering himself as messenger for you two - you and kimi agree but both of you are eagerly awaiting the time when you can finally hear each other

it takes a couple of weeks of back and forth texting & calling, and many plane journeys, for you both but eventually kimi works up the courage to ask ollie to ask you if kimi can kiss you

you say yes, he kisses you really sweetly on the plane to japan, and finally, finally, he can hear your sweet, sweet voice that he has oft dreamed about

kimi raikkonen - time freezes when you're in the same place as your soulmate and resumes when you make eye contact:

kimi was too focused on his racing to particularly care all too much about his soulmate - he'd meet em when he meets them

you're a relatively new formula 1 fan and you'd been given not just race tickets but also a paddock pass, allowing you to get up close and personal with the cars

you excitedly enter the paddock, ready to have your fun... and every single thing freezes around you - you panic and start running through the paddock, yelling the word help over and over, trying to find someone who wasn't frozen

kimi, on the other hand, was chilling in his garage when everything went still and he wasn't sure what to do until he heard your yelling and realised someone else was unfrozen

he rushes out to meet you and the second you make eye contact, everything unfreezes and the two of you quickly connect the dots - you're soulmates

kimi crosses over and smiles shyly at you, and the pair of you introduce yourselves to each other, setting up the beginning of a beautiful relationship

oscar piastri - you have a watch with your soulmate's time on it that beeps when you meet them:

oscar couldn't help but feel bad every time he looked down at his soulmate watch and saw that your timezone never changed - after all, his changed all the time and surely that must've been annoying

seeing your soulmate's timezone change all the time left you quite confused but you figured he was either very wealthy, travelled for his job, or both - plus you loved to figure out where he was each time it changed

its when you both notice that you're in the same timezone for the first time that you feel excited but you're not sure what to do now that you've noticed this - you have no other clues

you both decide to go out one night for a walk, not even thinking you'd meet the other but knowing that if you did, the watches would beep

so when you bump into someone and turn to apologise, the rapid and loud beeping that comes from both of your watches startle you until you, in sync, click the buttons to silence them

you look up and meet his warm brown eyes and smile, sticking your hand out to shake his, promptly making both of you the happiest you've ever been

lando norris - you have your soulmate's name on your wrist:

lando wasn't ashamed of his soulmate mark, not at all, but he did keep it covered up during the f1 season to avoid any potential weird fans using it against him

you, however, were perpetually shocked and awed by the name on your arm turning out to be your favourite formula 1 driver but you were also afraid because... how would you ever tell him that in a way that wouldn't paint you as an obsessive, stalkerish fan?

and then you get a paddock pass and are free to roam about wherever you please - you don't even think about covering your arm until a member of mclaren staff asks to see your id because he saw the name on your wrist

you show him it and, before long, you are being taken by the staff member to go and meet lando, your favourite formula 1 driver, your soulmate

lando wasn't sure what to do when a member of mclaren staff told him that his soulmate had been found, innocently wandering in the paddock with his name on their arm, completely uncovered

but when the two of you meet, lando can tell it's serious - the damn near instant connection to and draw towards each other tells you as much

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