#idk does any of this make sense to anyone other than me or

[vivisols]

me when I come up with the greatest fucking idea ever but its too entwined in my oc nonsense to be applicable to a y/n fic

[whiskeyswifty]

.

[tricksterlatte]

The Online Fandom 7 Deadly Sins

sloth: complaining about how no one writes the tropes or pairings you like and bashing what's already out there, while refusing to create anything you desire yourself

greed: zine and other finance-related scandals with zero remorse for those negatively affected

gluttony: spending rent money on merch, experiencing buyer's remorse, then repeating the same process next month

wrath: anon hate over literally everything under the sun, even harassing official writers and threatening them if they don't make your ship canon

pride: devaluing other's characterizations and ships to praise yours as better, whether through a canon perspective or a moral perspective, when neither matter in the long run when it comes to your own enjoyment

envy: trash talking others' fandom creations or saying you won't bother creating anything because it'll never be as good as them

lust: fighting over who tops or bottoms because of your personal preferences when one, both, or neither could happen, especially when most of these characters never even kiss canonically nor have most people fighting done any of these things irl themselves

[imminent-danger-came]

Realizing that plot/world building is a distant second to characters and themeing for me

[end-orfino]

Me: Wow I love seeing this one person's analysis and rambles about this specific fandom that they're fixated on, they're making really interesting points and it's nice to read their posts. Also it's fun to see them talk about this specific character that's their fav, they clearly put a lot of thought into all this. Like a specialist on that one character or smth lol Me when I do the same kind of overanalyzis and fixate on a specific character: I should be stoned. with rocks

[yamikawaii]

i wanna go home i wanna be with yoomiee

[unproduciblesmackdown]

ppl will be explaining how a difference is a difference & not a Deviation from a Superior state, & people who are the ones considered Default Normal (superior) will be like "okay....to be polite....i Might say i consider Some aspects of Some people's existence mere 'difference' & not being less than me...." as like hey i'm a Benevolent god. i still actually get to consider you worse & don't have to "humor" anything that challenges my superiority. if you only want everything to fit into the norm then it will all come back to upholding the norm. thinking of people's analysis of their own realities as equally legimate as being like Obscure, Irrelevant, Superficial & then using that reasoning to justify dismissing them. same as worrying that the [Different Lessers (Others(tm))] as Everywhere = a manifestation of the awareness that, yeah, respecting them as equals Does threaten your norm which is smothering everything everywhere. ppl who need to lock in the idea of Borders around personhood like um Yes they're all delineated separate Identities outside any hierarchy & so i think it's relevant to for some reason push back against "ohh so now Everyone's queer" like why not. why couldn't they be. what if they were. what if queerness was everywhere b/c it's ideological not a cordoned off Alternative Identity that is accommodated by focusing on Love(tm) as the new border around whose existence we might begrudgingly accept at arm's length (i.e. being otherwise "normal"! just imagine swapping out the binary gender (or, deep breath, presumed Private Parts) of one partner in an exclusive romantic lifelong nuclear family marriage, & that is Gay / Trans Rights. still gross but maybe we can do it, as long as they don't talk about it or shove it in our faces or even exist for more than one encounter w/us in our lives b/c what are the odds). evergreen laughing at someone suggesting ableist logic might be embedded in language of past & present b/c it's just So little to ask for that it's irrelevant but it's also So much to ask for that of course i'm not gonna do anything more than pass it along like "this is why i don't take ableism seriously" like yeah it's the disabled randos like it's the individual cringe teens(tm) ruining [the cishets would take Gender seriously otherwise!!!] & that's why you won't think about it or do anything about it & continue being comfortable with the norm & resent that actually their Difference is Less & disability is something worse that ppl "excuse" & all these ways that people are & all these things that they do are funny & weird & inexplicable & etc & one can't possibly be cruising along perpetuating a hierarchy with a sense that you're reasonable, well meaning, kind, etc etc & thus Justified, systemic oppression definitely wants to maximize how uncomfortable & arduous it feels to everyone rather than push to make it more streamlined & rewarding to embrace, or at least accept, whatever superiority over others you're afforded

[yellowhearther0]

girls when they are trying their best but their best isnt good enough 😔😔

[izzyy-stuff]

𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐃 - 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐈 𝐒𝐎𝐎𝐁𝐈𝐍

choi soobin x afab!reader

summary: After you found out the smarty-pants in your class was in love with you you thought it would be fun to play around with him a bit, but things take a wrong turn when he is the only one you can text when you are horny and he doesn't hesitate and runs to you, making you feel better than any of your ex boyfriends could.

words count: 3.9k

warnings: smut content, she/her pronouns used twice (in the texting part) sorry 🙏, oral, vaginal fingering, unprotected sex (don't!!), cum eating, gentle sex, squiting, idk tbh

You glanced to your side, watching the black-haired boy on the other side of the classroom as he wrote down some notes. If you were to be honest, you weren’t paying any attention to what the teacher was saying, so you had no idea what he was writing down either. But it didn't matter anyway, you knew he would let you copy his notes later. 

It was one of the perks of having the class’s smarty-pants be in love with you. You chuckled when you saw him look your way too, smiling at him before you turned away again. 

“What's going on there?” The black-haired girl next to you asked, her eyebrow raised as she pointed at the male on the other side of the class. “Why do you two keep stealing glances at each other?” 

“You know Yeonjun, right?” You asked, watching as the girl next to you nodded. “Who doesn't,” your best friend scoffed. “What does he have to do with anything?” 

“Well, he is the one that told me last week our little nerdy here has a crush on me. It all makes sense now if you think about it. I couldn't wrap my head around why he would always send me the lesson notes when I asked for them but not to others. I told Ryan he could ask Soob because I thought he wouldn't have any problems with it, but it turns out he only sent them to me to get me to like him, or something,” You explained, watching as your best friend laughed quietly. 

“It's kind of cute though that he does that.” 

“But I don't want ‘cute’ anymore,” you rolled your eyes. “I want someone who can actually make me cum and not just stare at me questioning why I wouldn't finish as if he even tried.” 

“Okay, I know the last boy was a fail as fuck, literally, but who knows,” the black-haired girl shrugged. “You want to tell me you think he of all people could make me cum?” You scoffed. “Please, he probably hasn't fucked a girl in his life.” 

You said that, but God, you had no idea what was coming your way. 

“Who are we gossiping about?” You turned as you heard the male’s voice, scoffing at how needy he was for the tea. “No one,” you shook your head. “Your rival,” your best friend grinned, answering instead when you didn’t do so. The blond boy scoffed, looking at the black-haired boy. “Oh yeah, I am so sure he didn’t fuck a girl - or anyone else - in his life,” he agreed. 

“I am pretty sure I’ve been with a girl more times than he has,” Ryan next to him nodded, joining their conversation. “Kinda crazy,” you commented, laughing. Before you could say anything else, you were stopped by the teacher hitting the board with his hand, making you look his way. “As I was saying,” he started his speech again, giving you a warning look before he turned around, facing the board again so he could write down a few things. 

Your head fell on the table soon after out of boredom, and before you could even start paying attention to what the teacher was talking about, the bell rang, announcing the end of the lesson. 

“Okay, guys, who is coming with me to grab lunch?” Your best friend turned towards you and the two boys behind you. “I am passing,” you mumbled immediately, not even fully sitting up and simply turning your head towards her. “I am going,” Ryan proclaimed, already standing up from his place, the blond following him right after. 

“Okay, I see you guys later, then,” you smiled at them, waving them off as they left the classroom. You knew you should get up too and move to your next class, but you were starting to feel unwell, and the thought of getting up sounded terrible. You sighed, closing your eyes for a few seconds. You knew this classroom was empty for another hour or so anyway. 

“Hey, are you alright?” You opened your eyes again upon hearing the soft voice and feeling the tap on your shoulder, blinking a few times to make your eyes focus again. “Mhm, sure I am,” you mumbled, sitting up straight as you looked around. The class was empty by now, only the two of you were left there. “Why? Were you worried about me?” You chuckled, teasing him. Suddenly, it was as if your headache completely disappeared when you saw the nervous look on his face. “Relax, I am joking,” you shook your head, but couldn’t hide your smile. 

“I don’t want to annoy you,” you started, slowly packing your stuff as he stood beside you, waiting like a puppy. “But do you think you could give me today’s notes, Soob?” 

“You-” he gulped, trying to ignore the nickname. There was simply something about you calling him Soob. “I don’t want it for free though. You could consider it as me owing you one and helping you when you’d need it?” You suggested as you stood up, grabbing your now packed bag. “Uhm, sure,” he nodded, not even paying full attention to what you were saying. 

“I’ll text you tonight about the notes then,” you beamed happily, looking like a completely different person as you placed your hand on his arm as a sign of thank you. You were devastated minutes ago, but whoever would see you now wouldn’t believe him if he told them so. Soobin wasn’t sure why, but he was glad you looked fine again. 

Soobin threw his bag on the side of his room, jumping into his bed immediately after the long day. He laid down on his back, simply staring at the ceiling of his room. He reached into his pocket for his phone, seeing two unread messages from his best friend. He opened his phone, staring at the two texts. “Look at Instagram” “Thank me later” There wasn’t much for him to question. Even though to many it might seem confusing, he knew exactly whose Instagram he should check. There was only one person that the two of them talked about together after all. 

The black-haired male clicked on the icon, waiting for the story to load for a second. Then his eyes widened at the sight. It was a picture of you, but not just any picture. He sat up immediately, looking properly at your body. You were wearing a white top, cropped slightly above your waist. He couldn’t help but notice you weren't wearing a bra underneath, your nipples showing through the fabric. Then he saw the black miniskirt, that you definitely pulled higher than you should. He gulped, remembering how you touched his arm earlier today, your fingers brushing on his skin as your hair fell in front of your face. 

He whined silently as he felt his boxers becoming tighter the more he stared at the picture, your body curves exposed for anyone to see. He shared the story with Yeonjun, his best friend, and immediately texted him how good you looked. 

Only, did he not know it wasn’t Yeonjun he shared the story to.  

Soobin stared at the messages, screaming as he turned his phone off faster than ever before. He couldn’t believe it. He just told you he needed you. There wasn’t anything worse that could be happening at the moment. Not to mention the image of your body was still stuck in his head, making him hard. 

He stared at the messages again, his heart fighting with his brain at that moment. He didn’t want to make you do anything, he felt like it would be too forced, even though you were the one suggesting it. But a part of him knew this was his only chance. There was no way he could get you differently. He knew about your dating history, so he also knew you had never been with anyone like him. It was always the boys like Yeonjun, who just understood how to talk to girls properly, how to make them fall for them. But he wasn’t like that, he had no idea what he was doing. 

And just like that, he was in front of your place, rethinking his decisions as he knocked on the front door, trying his best to ignore the boner in his pants that still hadn’t gone down. How could it be when you shared a picture like that with him?

“You came,” you mumbled as you opened the door, looking up at him. Soobin looked down on you, noticing the same top you had in the Instagram picture. He gulped, his eyes then falling on the bottom part of your body and the white panties that were the only thing you were wearing. “How could I not?” He whispered, making sure this picture would stay in his mind. 

You grabbed his hand as you took him inside, closing the door behind you immediately. It was only now that you noticed how big his hands were against yours. You just hoped he could use them too. 

Soobin blindly followed you to your bedroom, his mind full of thoughts about how he should go about this, while his eyes were stuck on your ass, unable to look away as you walked in front of him. 

“Can I-” he started as his eyes followed you while you sat on your bed. “You can do absolutely anything, Soob,” you interrupted him, watching as his face turned red. “Soob? Soobie?” You smirked, noticing what the nicknames did to him. “Is that what turns you on?” 

“Everything about you turns me on,” he admitted, slowly getting closer to you while you moved back, not taking your eyes off him. You didn’t say anything, you couldn’t. You simply bit your bottom lip as you found him above yourself, holding eye contact. This was becoming more intimate than you thought it would. 

“Is it okay for me to kiss you?” He wanted to assure himself one more time. You thought about it for a second, not wanting to give him any hope, but also desperately needing his lips on yours. You nodded to him in the end, grabbing the collar of his shirt and bringing him closer to yourself, pressing your lips on his, your mouth slightly opened which only made it easier for him. 

His right hand found its way to your boob, carefully sliding under your top, his cold fingers brushing over your nipple. You groaned into the kiss, clenching around nothing but thin air. It felt pathetic. He had barely touched you and you were already getting wet. 

Soobin left your mouth for a second, getting a disagreeing whine immediately that made him smile as he started placing wet kisses all over your neck, slowly moving down to your collarbone and then between your boobs. Your lips parted as you breathed out from the pleasure, raising your head to look at him. “Mhm, take it off,” you whispered, your hand reaching for his sleeve. He didn’t hesitate for a second and listened to you, taking his shirt off while you took down your own, exposing your breast to him completely. 

“Fuck,” he groaned at the sight, feeling more and more uncomfortable in his sweatpants. He ran his fingers through his hair, looking at your body one more time before his lips found their way to your breast again, his hand cupping one of them as he pressed kisses on your other boob, his tongue making wet circles around your nipple. 

“Fuck,” it was you groaning this time, quiet moans escaping your lips as your nipples became hard at his touch. “Soob, please,” you whined, throwing your head back into the pillow. “Please, what? Hm?” He asked, not even looking up and just continuing what he had been doing until now, his lips moving down again, leaving wet traces on your stomach now as his hands found their way to your waist. “I don’t know. Just- fuck,” you moaned out again when you felt his lips on your clit through your panties. 

“Just?” He asked again, looking up at you. You could swear you had never seen anything better in your life. The male was in between your legs, his breath landing right on your clit as he looked at you, absolute need in his eyes. 

“Just fuck me already,” you begged, watching as he took down your panties, his eyes fixated on your already leaking pussy. “I don’t think so,” he informed you, moving up again so he would face you. “I doubt you could take it just like that,” he whispered, moving his fingers to your lips. You didn’t need to hear anything else and immediately opened your mouth, sucking on his fingers. 

Before you could even register his actions you felt him slowly inserting his two fingers into you, carefully watching you. He did so to make sure he was doing everything right. You weren't completely wrong when you said he probably hasn’t been with a girl in his life. He couldn’t say he would have much experience, but all of his friends were sex addicts - and now he could finally see why - and they couldn’t keep their mouths shut every time the topic came up, so it was only natural for Soobin to catch on to a few things. 

You gasped, your eyes rolling back. You knew there was an obvious difference in your hand sizes but god, his fingers were bigger than you thought. “Fuck, curl them now,” you commanded, not daring to look down. He did as you said, feeling his precum on his boxers. He wanted nothing more but to fuck you right then and there, but he knew he had to wait. 

It didn’t take much longer for you to squirt on his fingers, especially after he added pressure to your clit too, his thumb making slow circles around while his fingers were stretching your inside. 

“Can I eat you out, please?” He asked, looking up at you again, his thumb still rubbing your clit slowly. “Please, y/n,” he begged, making you go crazy. You weren't sure if it was the way he begged you, the way he said your name, or because of his breath on your skin, but you couldn’t say no to him even if you wanted to. “God, please do,” you whined out and just like that, his tongue was pressed on your pussy right away, not wasting any second of the time he had with you. 

It had been months since you had cummed thanks to a boy, so you didn’t have any expectations for him when you invited him over. But you were wrong when you thought no boys knew how to take care of their girls anymore because he did exactly what he should, making you cum on his tongue a few minutes after he went down on you, not leaving your trembling cunt even then, letting you ride out your orgasm as his nose was pressed on your clit, his tongue carefully licking every last bit of your cum. 

“Soob,” you groaned, pulling his hair, making him finally raise his head and look at you. “Fuck, you’re so pretty,” he mumbled, going up again to kiss you. “And delicious,” he informed you, pressing his lips on yours. “Fuck, Soob, you’re too good,” you mumbled before you kissed him again, slowly sitting up. “Come closer,” you said, grabbing the hem of his pants, and pulling him closer at the same time. 

He groaned, his eyes shut tight, his lips unable to stay away from yours. You smirked into the kiss, your hand grabbing his trembling cock over his pants, making him moan. “I don’t usually do this but…” you started, breaking your kiss so you could look at his body properly. “You were so good earlier,” you praised him, not breaking your eye contact as you changed your position so you would be kneeling. “Pants off, baby,” 

That alone was enough to make him go crazy. You calling him baby just did something with his head. And with his dick. 

“Fuck,” You breathed out when you finally pulled down Soobin’s pants and boxers, your pussy clenching around nothing again. You knew he would be bigger because of his height, but this was more than you had expected. 

He cupped your cheeks, making you look up at him. “Are you sure?” You chuckled, simply nodding. “I can take good care of you too, you know,” you proclaimed, looking up at him as your right hand wrapped around his cock, not breaking your eye contact. You knew it must have been making him go insane. 

You started slowly, simply kissing his tip and licking off his precum. Then, you decided to try to take his full length into your mouth, but stopped shortly after getting to his half, already feeling like you were going to gag any second. There was no way you could do this. 

However, Soobin saw it differently. To him, it looked like you were playing with him, moving slowly and carefully on purpose to tease him. His hand found its way to your head, carefully tugging the hair that was getting in front of your face behind your ears before he held your chin up, making you look at him, his dick still in your mouth. “Think you can go faster, pretty? Please,” He asked, hoping maybe begging would help him. 

He groaned when he felt you suck harder, trying to go faster too but failing miserably. He chuckled at the sight, his hand in your hair so he could control the speed himself. “If you want to stop, just punch me, or something, okay? Try not to bite my dick off if you can’t take it anymore, though,” he told you, and before you could even look up at him again and question what he was talking about, he was moving with your head on his own as if you were just a toy to fulfill his needs. If you were honest, you were glad he did so. It was turning you on more. 

“Fuck, just a bit more,” he moaned out, thrusting his hips into your mouth as you sucked on him. He didn’t dare to look at you just yet, he felt like he would stop if he saw you in the moment, scared he might have been hurting you by determining his speed. 

When Soobin finally looked at you there were tears in your eyes, and his cum was all over your mouth. He cupped your cheeks, wiping the tears from your eyes with his thumbs. “Sorry,” he mumbled. You looked up at him, high on all the pleasure you felt until now thanks to him. God, you knew you needed to do this more often from now on. You licked the corner of your mouth, making sure not a single drop was wasted. 

“You’re not done yet, are you?” You asked, your puppy eyes almost making him cum again right away. “Fuck, no I am not,” he answered, leaning down to you to kiss you again. 

Soon after, Soobin found himself sitting on the edge of your bed, his back pressed against the white walls while you sat on him, your head on his shoulder, biting into his skin so you wouldn’t get too loud as he fucked you. Holding your ass, he was helping you remain at the same speed, moaning along with you. “So close, Soob,” you cried out. “Hold in a bit more,” he whispered, closing his eyes as he felt himself getting closer to finishing again, too. 

“Fuck,” you breathed out, a mixture of your own and Soobin’s cum leaking from your pussy. You raised your head slowly, your cheeks completely red as you looked into his eyes, still sitting on his cock. “Soob, this was the best sex I’ve ever had. God, you were so good.” He bit onto his bottom lip, watching your fucked out face. “Oh, yeah?” He asked, even more embarrassed than you were. “Does that mean you’ll let me fuck you again next time?” 

“Soob…” you mumbled, just watching him for a second before you carefully got off him. He just shook his head before you could say anything else. “I know, I know, don’t worry,” he muttered. “I still needed to try it,” he smiled awkwardly, his dimples being the cutest thing you had ever seen. “Let me help you clean yourself up before I leave. It's the least I can do,” He suggested. You nodded to him, convinced this was the last time you were together like this. You couldn't be more wrong though. 

You knew you couldn’t stay away from him for too long when he helped you to get into your bathroom and his fingers found their way to your clit again, making you melt at his touch. Even worse was when he carried you to your bed after he switched your bedsheet for you, asking you to let him eat you out one more time before he would leave you alone for good. 

You just couldn’t let him get away. 

“Fuck, Soob,” you mumbled, sitting on the edge of your bed, watching him kneeling in front of you, begging to feel your cum on his tongue again. “You’re going to be the death of me, aren’t you?” His innocent eyes looked up at you, his hands rubbing your thighs. You sighed, “Just stay here.” 

You could swear you saw sparks in his eyes as the words left your mouth. “Really? Can I?” 

You nodded, agreeing. “Sleep here tonight, I’ll let you eat me out again next time.” 

Soobin smiled proudly, his hands squeezing your thighs. “Only next time?” 

“God, just come here,” you proclaimed, pulling him up from the floor into a warm kiss, feeling his hands roaming on your body again. The night was still nowhere to be done.

[reidmania]

baked away | spencer reid

spencer reid x (fem) reader

description ;

anxiety doesn’t help when your boyfriend is away on a case — good thing baking does.. until it gets too much, good thing Spencer comes home.

hurt/comfort

warnings ;

mentions of anxiety and panic attacks, reader likes avoiding their feelings (same), talks about not eating properly or sleeping, ignoring phone calls, stress baking (also same) idk if there is any mention of gender but i said fem reader just incase their was. if theres anything i missed let me know!!

an ; pls this is #relatable

The house smelt of all sorts of baked good, cupcakes, cookies, brownies, you name it - there was a tray of it sitting on the kitchen counter, or the dining table since the counter grew rather full pretty quickly.

When Spencer was away for work, it wasn’t abnormal for your anxiety to peak. The pit in your stomach would deepen, your chest would feel tighter and your brain was working overtime pumping thoughts so often it crossed over the line to overthinking within minutes.

Baking helped somewhat.

Spencer knew your love for baking, cooking, anything to do with it — you loved. He knew you baked when you were stress, but he wasn’t aware of the extent of it.

Normally, by the time he was back from a case you had already given away majority of your baked goods to anyone who would take them — your parent’s, your neighbours, homeless shelters, book stores, anywhere that accepted them.

This time your anxiety seemed at an all time high this week, you couldn’t remember the last time you were able to sleep, your mind never slowing down enough to close your eyes for more than a couple of minutes. You weren’t sure what exactly had made it this bad — Spencer was away for a case. It just like any other time he was away, expect it wasn’t.

Your mind couldn’t stop thinking about all the things that could possibly happen while he was away. You were so distracted that you had been sent home from work on Monday, and given the rest of the week off because your boss genuinely believed you were sick.

Being home didn’t help — you were without any distractions, which ultimately led to the state of the kitchen. There were eight trays of cookies, five of brownies and nearly ten of cupcakes. You hadn’t left the kitchen in days — besides going to the shops whenever you ran out of ingredients, which had been 6 times, in the last four days.

Baking was a good distraction, your mind was able to focus on the measurements you needed, and the time things needed to bake that it didn’t focus on the fact your boyfriend may be in serious danger.

You hadn’t checked your phone, too scared that maybe if you looked it would be a text saying that something happened to Spencer — and while you would want to know if something did happen, avoidance seemed easier to cope with.

You were in the middle of making another batch of brownies when the door clicked open. You were busy muttering to yourself to hear it — too focused on focusing on the brownies.

Spencer walked into the house, a slight sense of panic. You hadn’t answered your phone in days — He assumed maybe you were busy, but it didn’t stop him panicking like a mad man and taking it out on the rest of the team until he was able to come home.

A wave of relief washed over him when he breathed in the scent of baked goods, not just any — yours.

“Baby?” He called out as he kicked off his shoes, placing his case on the ground next to the door, the lack of response made his eyebrows furrow as he walked towards the sweet smell.

He called your name, before he stepped into the kitchen, only for his eyes to widen as he looked over the state of it, while still maintaining a clean appearance — dishes wise, his eyes scanned over the numerous trays of deserts scattered over the counter and dining room table.

You finally looked up, meeting his eyes there was like a switch in your brain that went off — he was okay — he was home and he was safe and everything was okay.

“Spence!” You smiled widely as you quickly turned to place the brownies in the oven before shuffling towards him, pulling the apron off over your head, it was covered in flour and coco power of sorts.

He smiled as you came towards him, the minute he was in reach your arms wrapped tightly around his neck, breathing in his scent which calmed every muscle in your body. His arms wrapped around your waist, holding you flush against his body just as tight. “I missed you” You murmured into the crook of his neck.

He breathed out a chuckle as your words came out muffled by his skin. “Did you?” He asked, tone almost joking, which only caused you to furrow your eyebrows as you leant out of his grasp.

You didn’t say anything but your confused look was enough for him to understand you were not getting his point. “You didn’t any of my calls in days.” He sighed out.

You furrowed your eyebrows before your eyes widened. “Oh- oh!” You said, spinning on your heels as you searched around the kitchen to look for your phone. “Oh my gosh, I have been so distracted, I am so sorry!” You rushed around apologetically.

He smiled, shaking his head. “It’s alright, angel. Why don’t you tell me why we look like we are opening a bakery?” He asked, leaning forward to take a cupcake out of its tray.

You looked around the kitchen realising he was right — it did look like you were about to have a grand opening. You lips pulled into a frown as you looked back to meet his gaze.

He was biting into the cupcake, eyes still on you with his eyebrow raised as if waiting for an answer — you deflected. “Those are chocolate and honey, sounds weird right? They smelt good but I haven’t tried any, is it alright?” You asked.

He nodded his head, “Yeah they’re good” He confirmed, taking another bite, you smiled as you pinched your nose, sighing. “I didn’t ask what flavour it was” He muttered.

“Huh?”

He chuckled, placing the cupcake down on the bench — protected by the lining. He walked up to you, brushing a few stray hairs from your face as he took in your appearance. “I asked why you baked so much and you told me what flavour cupcake I was eating” He recalled.

You sighed, squeezing your eyes shut. “Whats happened?” He asked, concern lacing not only his tone but also all over his features. You could see it in the wrinkle between his eyebrows as he looked down at you.

“Nothing happened.” You answered — because nothing happened. How were you supposed to say you baked hundreds of deserts because you were simply worried about him — it was pathetic and embarrassing and not something you wanted to admit.

He frowned, “Then whats wrong?” He asked, he just wanted a little bit on insight into your mind, what you were thinking — why it got to this point.

You sighed, dragging your hand up to your hair, pushing it back out of your face. “I just needed a distraction, I guess I went a little bit overboard” You muttered.

“Distraction from what?” He asked:

You chuckled, trying to push away the pressure of his question. “I don’t know? My mind?” You shrugged as if it was nothing — because to you this was normal despite how normal it wasn’t.

“Why?”

“Is this an interview?” You counteracted. You didn’t mean to come off defensive but the whole point of baking to almost the point of insanity was so you didn’t have to think about everything that your mind was rushing though and now Spencer wanted you to blurt it out. The lack of sleep and lack of sufficient food consumption over the last few days may also play a part in your slight outburst.

His frown only deepened. He took your hand wordlessly leading you to your shared bedroom. You didn’t bother fighting it, instead following him.

“Sit.” He instructed, his tone indicated there was no room for argument. You sat down on the bed, not even thinking you had enough energy to argue anyway. The adrenaline you were running off in baking was wearing off now that you knew Spencer was safe, allowing you to feel the lack of sleep.

He sat down next to you, eyes running over your own. “When did you last sleep?” He asked softly, the back of his finger running gently over your cheek as he noticed the bags under your eyes.

You shrugged.

He sighed, “Im a profiler baby, its my job to know whats going on without being told, so I can do that if thats what you’d like, but it would be a lot easier if you talked to me” He said softly.

You hated that, you hated that it was physically impossible to hide anything from him because it was literally his job to find out what people were hiding.

“I was too in my head.” You confess quietly. “I couldn’t sleep, or focus at work, my boss told me to take the week off for Christ sake. I couldn’t eat — I couldn’t do anything” You rambled.

He listened intently to every word that left your lips, taking in your tone and expression. “Why honey?” He urged, thats what he wanted to know — Why.

“I just couldn’t stop thinking about all the things that could’ve happened, it was like every worst case scenario in my head all at once no matter what, everytime I closed my eyes I saw it, I felt sick to my stomach constantly — i think i had more panic attacks this week than I have in months Spence.” You continued rambling on, it was like a weight off your chest the more you spoke.

He felt his chest ache at your words — you were feeling like this and he wasn’t there. “What were you thinking about angel?” He asked, his voice threatening to break just as much as yours.

“You. All the things that could happen to you— don’t apologise and don’t feel bad. Im your girlfriend its my job to worry about you. Its never been this bad before, it was just.. really bad this time” Your hand reached your face to wipe the hot tear that fell from your eyes as you talk, your voice giving out on you.

“Oh darling.” His arms were around you instantly. “I am so sorry” He apologised despite your comment telling him not to — how couldn’t he when his girlfriend was driving herself half insane because she was worried about him.

“I was calling you whenever I could” He sighed into her hair, heart tightening as he felt her body shake with the sob that left her lips as he buried her face in his chest. “Im okay, I am right here okay? God baby Im so sorry.” His apologies came out in strings.

You shook your head in his chest, wanting to tell him to shut up — not to apologise for doing his job but you couldn’t, the lump in your throat felt too thick to swallow and words came out silent.

His arms tightened around you. “You know you can go to the office anytime yeah? Garcia is always there and she adores you, you can always go see her if your head feels a bit too messy okay?” He said softly.

You nodded.

You and Spencer stayed like that for a few minutes, before your tears came to a stop, you pulled away to look at his face — seeing he had been crying himself, his cheeks flushed and eyes red.

“Im sorry” You apologised.

He shook his head. “No, you aren’t allowed to do that, you’re not allowed to be sorry for something you can’t control honey.” He was quick to dismiss your apology, there was nothing you needed to apologise for.

He leant in to place a soft gentle kiss across your lips, hands tightening around your waist as his other hand pressed into the small of your back, pushing you closer to him before he pulled away.

“Let’s go get some real food okay? Then we can figure out what to do with your miniature bakery okay?” He muttered, forehead pressed against yours.

“Okay.” You said softly.

He smiled, “Okay.”

[spider-stark]

EVERYTHING

Kaz Brekker x Reader

Summary - Kaz Brekker doesn't make any sense—and trying to understand him is getting to be exhausting.

Warnings - fem!reader, reader worked at a brothel, subtle hints at past abuse, some major dog / master symbolism idfk, mentions of blood/weapons, close proximity, could deviate some from canon, based more on book!kaz than show, NOT EDITED SO IF THERE'S A TYPO IDK

Word Count - 3.8k

!MINORS DNI!

// masterlist // send me your thoughts // comments & reblogs appreciated! //

“Touch me.” 

You’ve only just slipped inside Kaz Brekker’s room at the Slat, and you’re convinced you’ve misheard him. The door’s still cracked, after all—and the mindless clamor of those playing cards down in the foyer is loud enough to play tricks on anyone’s ears. 

You push the door shut, habit making you click the lock into place before spinning around to face him. “Pardon?” 

The lanterns burn low, dim light chasing shadows across the spacious attic. Kaz stands over by his desk, leaning his weight against the edge in lieu of his cane. He’s dragging a gloved hand through his hair, looking uncharacteristically flustered. 

“Don’t act like you didn’t hear me,” he snaps. 

Your laugh comes out breathy and awkward. “We both know I’m a shit actor, Brekker.” 

It’s why you’re never picked when the Dreg’s need a decoy—some girl to saddle up next to a sleazy merchant or another hapless mark, distracting them with batted lashes and a well-timed hand on their thigh. In Jesper’s words, you’re so socially inept that you’d probably blow the operation before it even got started.

To your dismay, Kaz doesn’t repeat himself. With his gaze carefully pinned to the tops of his black boots, he demands, “Why are you here?” 

Your brow quirks. “At the Slat?” 

“In my room.” 

The answer eludes you. Why did you come up here? It’s not like tonight was the first time Dirtyhands has ever skipped out on playing Blackjack with the rest of the group, and yet he’d caught your attention when he slipped from the foyer and went limping up the stairs. 

Then again, that’s not so surprising. Kaz always catches your eye, doesn’t he? 

In the year since you joined the Dregs, you’d earned an unfortunate nickname for yourself around the Barrel: The Bastard’s Pet. Wherever Kaz Brekker goes, you’re sure to be hot on his heels, following after him like a dog, loyal and clingy. 

You tell yourself it’s because that’s your job—to keep Kaz safe, to watch his six. But the devil’s got eyes in the back of his head, and you know Kaz Brekker doesn’t really need protection. 

So, it begs the question: Why are you here? In his room, at the Slat, as a member of the Dregs? Why does he keep you around? 

Unsure of the answer, you simply avoid giving one. 

“You should play games with them sometimes,” you tell him, giving a subtle nod over your shoulder. Their voices are muffled now, but you can still hear everyone downstairs exchanging jeers as they shuffle another round. “It makes you look like a recluse, always sneaking off to be by yourself.” 

Kaz drums one finger against the desk. It’s an erratic beat, following no set rhythm. “I am a recluse,” he grinds out. 

You almost snort. Clearly. 

It’s not like anyone joins a gang with the hopes of making friends—and none of the Dregs are dumb enough to think they’ll find a buddy in the infamous Dirtyhands, anyway. Still, you don’t think it’d kill him to try being a little more sociable. 

The others would like having him around. 

You like having him around. 

“I’ll ask one more time.” Dark eyes flick up, heavy as stones when they land on yours. Suddenly, the large attic feels awfully claustrophobic. “Why are you here?” 

A lie comes easily enough, slipping right through your teeth. 

“I got bored playing,” you tell him. “And Jesper’s cheating, anyway.” 

“They’re all cheating,” Kaz points out. 

“But Jesper’s bad at it,” you argue. Lifting a shoulder, you add, “It ruins the fun.” 

His finger falls still against the desk, ceasing its rhythmless beat. Warm light flickers all around him, dark shadows dancing over the harsh angles of his face. You watch his jaw tick, note the subtle curl of his upper lip. You’re overcome with the distinct feeling that you’re staring down the barrel of a loaded gun. 

Probably because you are. 

You’ve seen this face before. Been the one to clean the bloody mess left behind by whoever was unfortunate enough to find themselves on the receiving end of it. Now, as the one standing in the line of fire, you feel your stomach start to twist. 

You tell yourself it’s dread. Anxiety for what’s to come. 

“From where I was standing,” Kaz grinds out, his stare unflinching, “you looked to be having plenty of…” A sharp breath, his tongue gliding over pearly teeth. “Fun.” 

There’s something hidden in the word. A meaning that goes well beyond its dictionary definition. Is it a challenge? A dare, maybe? Or—perhaps the most unlikely of the options—some sort of plea? 

“And what is that supposed to mean?” you ask, finally daring a step closer, slowly drifting from the closed door. 

Kaz shakes his head. “It means what it means.” 

As you draw closer, he moves around the desk and takes a seat. He stretches his bad leg out in front of him, mindlessly rubbing a hand down toward his knee. It’s always bothering him by this point in the night. 

“Go back downstairs.” An order—not a suggestion. 

Across from him now, you place both palms on his desk. The smooth wood is cool against your skin, though the rest of you feels impossibly warm. It’s a side effect of standing too close to him, you think. The flushed cheeks and the vice around your lungs, always leaving your mind fuzzy and your pulse erratic. 

You hate him for it, sometimes. For the effect he has on you. 

“Why?”  you ask, riding out your little bold streak. “So you have a reason to gripe some more about me having fun?” 

“I’m not griping,” Kaz shoots back, very evidently griping. 

“Griping, carping, quibbling, or complaining—doesn’t matter how you word it, all of 'em fit you to a T right now, Brekker.” 

He’s not looking at you anymore, focused instead on the swirling patterns of the wood grain or the neat stack of papers or anything else that gives him an excuse to keep his head low. A month or so after you joined the Dregs, Kaz told you that you had a talent for getting under his skin. Maybe that’s why you don’t need to be able to see his face to know just how annoyed he looks. 

“Go downstairs.” 

“I will,” you vow. “After you explain what you meant.” 

Frustrated, he insists, “There’s nothing to explain.” 

“What did you say when I came in?” 

“Go downstairs.” 

You throw your hands up. “If you won’t tell me what you said, then at least explain why ‘fun’ is such a problem!” 

“Go. Down. Stairs.” 

“Make me.” 

Wood screeches, the chair flying back as he shoots to his feet. The stiffness in his leg makes the movement a little clumsy, and you don’t miss the subtlest flash of a wince before he leans against the desk. 

“Do you know why I brought you in?” 

For a moment, it’s all you can do to blink at him. Because, no—you don’t know why Kaz offered you a place with the Dregs. 

You’re not a sharpshooter like Jesper or a trained Grisha like Nina, not as smart as Wylan or as silent as Inej. You’re decent when it comes to sleight-of-hand and slightly above average with a blade, but even those skills are ones you’ve only learned since joining the gang. 

Back when you first met Kaz, you were nothing and no one. An unlucky girl roped into an indenture with Pekka Rollins, forced to work out of the Sweet Shop—the nastiest, most dangerous brothel in all of Ketterdam. 

“Because you’re secretly a big softie with a heart of gold?” You hope your sarcasm is enough to mask the twinge of shame brought on by your past. 

But Kaz is too good for that. Nothing gets past him—evident by the tiny wrinkle of concern that forms between his dark brows, instantly picking up on the faint dip in your tone. 

Fortunately for you, being observant doesn’t equate to being consoling, and so he doesn’t mention it. 

“Because you didn’t make me sick,” he answers, low and even. You’re not so sure if it’s an insult or compliment, and before you get a chance to ask, Kaz continues, “It was late. And raining. I’d just finished teaching a Razorgull lackey what happens when you breach parley. He was a real bleeder—made a mess of my suit. I ended up leaving him for Jesper to deal with. Thought I’d avoid eyes by sticking to the shadows, walking in the alleys behind the brothels.” Your eyes must be betraying you, because you almost think that’s a smile twitching at the corner of his lips. “Imagine my surprise when a runaway harlot nearly knocked a helpless cripple like me off his feet.” 

You bite your cheek, still deciding if you want to slap him for calling you a harlot or laugh in his face. In spite of his limp and cane, Kaz Brekker is far from what you’d consider helpless. 

“So, what? You had me join the Dregs because I nearly bulldozed you in an alley?” That whole night was spotty for you, the panic you’d felt having rendered your memory foggy and incomplete. 

“Inej had told me about you,” Kaz says. “That Pekka Rollins got a new girl—an escape artist, always trying her luck at running away.” 

You didn’t know that, but maybe you should have. Inej isn’t the best spider in the Barrel without reason. She knows everything—and all she knows is reported directly to Kaz. Even so, you’re not sure you’re catching his point with all this. 

As if he can see you trying to mentally connect the dots, Kaz says, “Maybe I had another purpose in walking behind those brothels. Maybe I wanted to see just how quick on her feet Pekka Rollins’ escape artist was.” His head tilts slightly. “Or maybe I just didn’t want anyone to see me when I wasn’t looking my best. Either way, I left that alley knowing you’d be a part of my crew.” 

Your memory of that night may be spotty, but the one after is still crystal clear. A Suli spider had crawled through your window at the Sweet Shop, told you that Per Haskell was willing to pay a very hefty sum to buyout your indenture if you agreed to work for the Dregs. To this day, you’re still unsure of how Kaz managed to convince him you were worth it—or why he bothered. 

“You’re not making any sense, Brekker,” you admit, rubbing at your temple. A headache burrows there, seeming to grow worse with every minute. “Is that why you wanted me for the Dregs, then? Cause I’m… fast?” 

It sounds stupid. It is stupid. 

You’re no faster than anyone else—and you certainly hadn’t been fast enough to outrun Pekka Rollins’ goons. Everytime you made a run from the Sweet Shop, they dragged you right back, kicking and screaming the whole way. 

“No.” Kaz sighs. Drags a hand through his hair, tugging at the dark locks. “I wanted you-”

Kaz doesn’t finish that thought. 

A violent CRASH! steals your attention. Both of your heads snap toward the closed door, listening intently for any sign of danger.

Instead, you hear Jesper’s boisterous cackle chime. Wylan starts shouting about something indiscernible—vase, shattered, and moron among the words you catch.

A smile sneaks up on you. 

But, when you turn back to Kaz, it’s promptly wiped away. 

He looks like he’s had a lemon rind forced into his mouth, scowling at the door. “What’s going on with you and Van Eck?” 

You blink. “What?” 

“You heard me.” 

You did—but hearing him is a far stretch from understanding him, and it’s seemed like Kaz has been talking in circles since you came in. What’s Wylan have to do with any of this? 

“I don’t get what you’re asking.” 

“Stop making me repeat myself.” 

“Then stop being so confusing, Brekker!” you huff, crossing your arms. “I don’t understand-”

Kaz cuts you off with a look. Cold as death, he grinds out, “Are you fucking him?” 

Shock. Confusion. 

They course through you in equal measure, coupled with slight amusement. The latter must show on your face, because Kaz’s scowl deepens before he looks down at his desk, pretending to fiddle with something. 

“I have work to do,” he says stiffly. “Go downstairs.” 

Your feet stay firmly planted, the desk’s width all that separates the two of you. “Why would you think that?” 

Of all the assholes and degenerates in the Dregs, Wylan’s probably the closest you have to a real friend. It came with the territory—both of you having become newbies around the same time, trying to learn the ropes and fit in. 

You’re not fucking him, though. 

Kaz sinks back into his chair. His usually-squared shoulders curve slightly, as if some weight is pressing down on them. “Go downstairs.” 

“I thought you didn’t like repeating yourself?” you ask, almost taunting. 

“Go.” The word strains between his teeth. “Now.” 

For no good reason, you make a stand. Stare down the barrel of the gun, unafraid and unrelenting. How strange, you think. The tightness in your chest has never once been apprehension. 

It was excitement. Anticipation. 

You’ve always liked getting under his skin. Finding out what makes him tick, figuring out which words earn the sharpest glares. You want him to pull the trigger, if only because it means you have his attention—and like a dog waiting at its master’s feet, you could care less if it comes with an open hand or a closed fist. 

So long as it comes. So long as he notices you. 

“What did you say when I came in?” You uncross your arms, make yourself stand up tall. “Tell me.” 

Dark eyes shoot up. Kaz almost looks shocked, the dull echo of emotion creasing the lines of his face, parting his lips. You wait, but no sound comes out. 

Dirtyhands is used to giving orders. Not taking them. 

“You’ve heard what they say about me.” You wave a dismissive hand toward the shoddy window overlooking the Barrel. “Brekker’s Pet. Always with you, always following you around! Ask any sod in Ketterdam and they’ll say the same—the only way I’d have time to fuck someone is if you were in the room!” And even then, it wouldn’t be Wylan. 

A steel rod takes the place of Kaz’s spine, turning your words over in his head. “Fine. Maybe you haven’t,” he relents. “But you want to.” 

It’s a gamble. An unusually shitty one, at that. 

You blow out an exasperated breath. This whole thing is getting old. “Saints, Kaz. What’s your deal?” 

He opens his mouth. Shuts it. Then opens it again. 

“I saw you downstairs,” he says. “Touching Van Eck.” 

Your brows lift, fists clenching. You don’t know what you expected from him, but it certainly hadn’t been a bold-faced lie! 

But then you start thinking of the moments before you saw Kaz head upstairs, laughing and playing Blackjack before you folded your hand to follow after him. You’d been sitting cross-legged on the threadbare rug, wedged between Wylan and Raske, when you noticed—Shit. 

Kaz is right, and that makes you want to scream. Why is Kaz always right? 

It was after you noticed Jesper was cheating, that he’d poorly marked the deck with daub; a sticky, ash-colored substance. You’d leaned in close to point it out to Wylan—your hand against his forearm, your lips dangerously close to the Merchling’s ear. After he noticed the marks, you both exchanged quiet giggles over just how bad Jesper was at swindling. 

Still, there had been nothing sexual about it. Nothing between you and Wylan. 

But, even if there was, why would Kaz care? 

I saw you—touching Van Eck. His words race through your mind, pulsing in time with the dull ache in your temple. Touch me, touch me, touch me. 

All of a sudden, the fog begins to clear. Something in your memory clicks. 

That night behind the brothels—when you were running from the Sweet Shop, when Kaz had been drenched in the blood of some Razorgull. Barefoot and frantic, you really had almost knocked him off his feet. Gloved hands had held your arms tight, keeping you still. His hair had been messy and your mind a blur—and when you’d seen the crimson smeared across his cheek, you hadn’t thought twice before wiping it away. 

You’d done what so few have. You had touched Kaz Brekker, skin-on-skin. 

Because you didn’t make me sick. 

When you don’t speak, Kaz shifts in his chair. Straightens an already-neat stacks of papers. “You won’t try and deny it?” he asks. 

Maybe you imagine the quaver in his voice. Or maybe you don’t. 

Either way, you start around his desk. Your every step is slow—cautious. 

You stop beside him, and Kaz shifts again. You’re standing closer than you’d usually dare to get, so close that you can hear it when he swallows. 

“You should go downstairs,” he tells you, lower than before. 

Your head tilts, hair shifting over one shoulder. “Is that what you want?” 

His answer hides in silence so thick it’s a tangible presence. It curls around you, makes gooseflesh prickle along your skin. Your mouth feels dry, your stomach like it’s tied in knots. 

Suddenly, you don’t need him to repeat what he’d said. 

As always, Kaz was right—you'd heard him the first time. 

“Ask me again.” The words drip from your tongue, an order and a plea. “Ask me and I’ll do it.” 

Kaz gives you a look, one you’ve never seen before. Dark eyes rove over you, brimming with worry and stress and—and Saints, a sense of desire so strong it makes your toes curl in your boots, a feeling like lightning coursing up your spine. 

In a voice like stone on stone, raspy and urgent, Kaz breathes out, “Touch me.” 

So you do. 

You cup his face, graze your thumb over his cheekbone. Kaz stiffens, swallowing once more—but he doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t try to pull away. 

“You know, to be such a bastard,” you start, a note of teasing in your voice, “you’re awfully pretty, Brekker.” 

Heat blooms against your palm, a deep blush crawling over his pale cheeks. 

“Shut up,” Kaz grumbles. 

You grin. “Want me to go downstairs?” 

A gasp rips from your throat as a gloved hand clamps around your wrist, Kaz pulling you down toward him. Anxiety still tightens his features, but beneath it he looks all too pleased with himself when you stumble clumsily into his lap. 

For the sake of comfort, you adjust your legs—careful for his bad one—and settle your arms over his shoulders. Then, when it fully settles that you’re straddling Kaz-fucking-Brekker, it gets a lot harder to breathe. 

“Should I take that as a no?” It sounds like a pant, your lungs constricting. 

He lifts the hem of your shirt, the feel of leather cool against your skin as Kaz jabs a finger into your side. “Do I always have to repeat myself around you?” he asks. Dark eyes dip past your jaw, his tongue gliding over his lips. You don’t think he actually cares to hear your answer, which is good—because you’re pretty sure you just forgot how to speak. 

Kaz drags his finger up the curve of your waist, his touch tentative and featherlight. It feels a lot like being studied—the way his dark brows knit together, staring at you as if you’re a magic trick he’s yet to master, a puzzle he hasn’t quite figured out. 

“It’s not because you’re fast,” he says, somewhat distracted. It takes a minute for you to realize that he’s referring to your earlier question—Is that why you wanted me for the Dregs, then? 

“Good,” you manage. “Because I’m not.” 

The slightest twitch of a smile. “No.” He takes his time tracing over every divet in your ribs, slowly trailing up, up, up. “You’re not.” 

“But I didn’t make you sick.” You’re not prepared for the wave of sickness that comes with the reminder, stomach roiling. 

The Bastard’s Pet. Is that truly all you are? All you’re worth to the Dregs? Useless at saddling up next to sleazy merchants, but good enough to curl up at Kaz Brekker’s feet. 

As if he can read your mind, Kaz’s hand goes still against your side. “Wipe that sour look off your face, would you? If I only wanted you to touch me, I would’ve just come to the Sweet Shop instead of getting my ass chewed by Haskell.”

You wiggle just enough to knock one knee into his hip, glaring at him. Both of you pretend not to notice the catch in his breath—or the growing hardness straining against his trousers, pressed against your core. 

Gruff, Kaz continues, “You were in an alley and saw a man dripping with blood, and your first thought was to reach out and clean his cheek.” His head shakes, a strand of coal-black hair swaying near his temple. “It was ignorant,” he tells you. “And… decent. Innocent.” 

You almost laugh. Innocent. That’s hardly a word you’d use to describe yourself. Especially right now, your every muscle straining in an attempt to keep your hips perfectly still, hands folded at the base of his neck. 

“I didn’t know innocence like that could survive in the Barrel.” His hand starts again, tracing little shapes against your side. “Even if you never touched me again, I wasn’t gonna let Pekka Rollin’s crush someone like you between his grimy little fingers.” 

“So that’s the answer?” you ask, nibbling on your lip. “I’m in the Dregs cause I’m innocent?” What a reason to have someone join a gang. Hey, you seem pure! Wanna get corrupted? 

“You’re in the Dregs because you know how to persevere,” Kaz answers, holding your gaze. “How to get up and try again, no matter how many times you’re knocked down.” The sensation of smooth leather drifts higher. “Because you’re a survivor.” Your eyelids flutter, sucking in a breath as he palms the plump curve of your breast. “Because you’re loyal,” he starts, and it’s almost reverent the way he almost whispers, “my perfect little pet.” 

The world grinds to a halt. 

Outside of this room—this moment—nothing exists. 

Too quiet, you ask, “What do you want from me, Kaz?” 

You want him to feel in control, to be the one that decides how this is gonna go. But your self-restraint is a fraying cord, mere seconds from snapping in half. 

If it were up to you, how far would you go? How much of Kaz Brekker would you explore? As far as I could, you think, desperate. As much as he’d let me. 

That’s the trouble with dogs. They’re loyal and clingy, forgiving and insistent. They want for everything and take whatever they’re given. They’ll spend hours begging at your feet. Lick scraps from the floor until their tongues begin to bleed. 

When it comes to Kaz Brekker, you’ll take whatever he has to give. 

And you’ll never stop begging for more, more, more. 

“Everything.” His breath is warm against your lips, the leather cool on your breast. “I want everything.”

a/n - just in case anyone couldn't tell, i obviously just finished reading six of crows (yeah ik i'm very late to the party). i randomly started writing this while i was stuck in traffic and it just sort of spiraled over the past 24 hours and now here we are! this was born! idk if i'll get anymore kaz ideas, but it was fun writing something more dialogue heavy (dialogue has my heart<3)

[shepscapades]

looking through your docsuma tag.....love them. wish they had one more combined braincell so they could realize their feelings

HERE'S THE THING THOUGH OKAY the problem is actually that they're both too smart about their feelings. you've got me down a horrible rabbit hole okay let me do my best to explain without being a freak(reading this back over, i failed <3).

Xisuma takes longer to realize, first of all. He's got so much to deal with coming out of s8 and through the beginning of s9 that quite frankly he's really just grateful to have another friend he can count on and trust, and he's so consumed by getting the androids back in working order on top of his actual season 9 plans (on top of Cleo shoving self care down his throat and demanding that he make a better habit of taking breaks and taking care of himself, which takes a LONG time to adjust to, if it can be argued that he ever does) that he doesn't really realize he's developed feelings for Doc until his heart beats him over the head with it randomly one day. Probably sometime in S10. Even then, because of said busy-ness, I think Xisuma has a very hard time getting over the meta-ness of a creator developing feelings for his creation and the selfishness of that reality amidst all of his other responsibilities, and he is likely too scared/overwhelmed to entertain the thought of the feelings themselves, much less the likelihood of reciprocation or the fantasy of a relationship.

Doc, on the other hand, realizes he is developing feelings for Xisuma kind of steadily throughout the course of s9, since that's when they start spending so much more time together in the lab working on androids and improving android tech. As a general statement, Doc is very aware of himself, all of the time. His awareness of the self is very important to his sense of normalcy and control, so any time he experiences a new emotion, he notes it, logs it.

So, while he's very aware of the feelings he's developing as they happen, he doesn't quite put a name to it/realize what it actually is until he talks to Tango and Etho, funnily enough--It's definitely one of those moments where Tango or Etho or whomever are explaining their struggles with the physical manifestations of their... idk, lovesickness-- ie, thirium pump rate irregularities, temperature fluctuations, influxes of feelings they've described as a combination of longing, affection, want, happiness, yearning... and Doc, as the unbiased third party to put 2 and 2 together, explains to them that those are obvious signs of romantic attraction, only very belatedly realizing several hours later that those are the exact symptoms he hasn't quite been able to put a name to. Naturally he's exceptional about being quiet about this realization until he slips up during a maintenance check-in with Tango sometime after, who is not doing well in s9, and Tango (mid romance-ranting) catches the passing of a wistful expression on Doc's face and calls him out for "totally thinking about someone right now" (Teasing aside, tango promises to keep Doc's secret).

So, despite knowing well his feelings before X ever develops his own, Doc is actually very, very careful about them-- He knows more than anyone else how busy Xisuma is. He knows how stressed X is. He also knows Xisuma seems to be more knowledgeable when it comes to emotions and feelings, and despite the clear signs that Xisuma shows interest(?) in him as well, Doc can only assume there is a good reason nothing romantic has happened between them-- he trusts Xisuma more than anything, and he--firmly-- will not breach this trust by acting on something Xisuma does not seem to be ready for (or does not seem to want yet(yet?)). Therefore, Doc is patient, and even though as Season 10 develops and Doc becomes aware of the likelihood that Xisuma could return the feelings, he trusts Xisuma's emotional intuition more than anything. He, painfully, recognizes Xisuma's discomfort (or hesitation), concludes that there must be a missing variable in this equation he cannot grasp, and decides to let Xisuma lead because of it. He will not push farther than he feels Xisuma has.

It's definitely one of those "fell first" "fell harder" type situations I think. I'm normal about them. can you tell

[teenytinyjimin]

i miss you, i’m sorry (j. jungkook)

nothing happened in the way i wanted

every corner of this house is haunted

and i know you said that we’re not talking

but i miss you, i’m sorry.

summary: the first time seeing each other after the breakup is always the hardest. but seeing each other when you're still in love? an absolute nightmare

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 2k

tags: angst, smoker!jk, brokenhearted!jk, equally as brokenhearted!reader, why did they even break up in the first place?, featuring reader’s bestfriend!jimin, also jimin is sexually ambiguous let's keep it that way please

warnings: none, alcohol/nic use but nothing too intense, kinda sad but it's a happy ending i promise

author’s note: idk why i keep making my fic names and stuff inspired by songs, i guess it just helps me beat writers block.

also i wrote this in second person, lmk if you guys prefer that over third. i personally find third person fics easier to write, but i'm sure second person is easier to read for some of you. enjoy my angels!

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

Bars weren't really your thing.

If you were going to be honest, they were miles better than nightclubs, but still not your thing. It was something about the air that just rubbed you the wrong way. Perhaps it was all the creepy old men that turned you off of them, or just the fact that there's not much to do besides sit, drink, sit some more, maybe play some pool and... sit.

Jimin, on the other hand, loved bars. He loved being able to sit there, look pretty, and watch as absolutely anyone and everyone flocked over to him to start a conversation. It admittedly fueled his ego, and he loved the feeling of being the center of attention. However, he didn't love being at bars alone. Being so drop-dead gorgeous meant that about twenty times the amount of creeps bothered him than the average bar patron. Many of them figured that a pretty boy like him was sitting there waiting to be swooped up by a sugar daddy. Let's get one thing straight – that wasn't him. He had plenty of money. He just wanted to have a little conversation, give a little kiss here and there maybe, and dip at the end of the night with his bar companion by his side.

Unfortunately for you, that bar companion was usually you. It was certainly a compliment for Jimin to want to bring you along with him instead of any of his other gazillions of friends and other social connections, but it was quite exhausting for you to be in a bar pretty much every day of every weekend. He liked the attention, but you didn't. If it were an empty room with nothing but you and a bottle of rum, you'd have a blast. But what bar in Itaewon was going to be like that?

Alas, here you were, sat at the end of a bar with your friend sitting next to you. Something about the light in the building made him look extra beautiful tonight, his skin shimmering like the most precious of diamonds and his eyes deep and full of allure. At the moment he was making small talk with a lady on the other side of him, one who was definitely at least twenty years his senior but didn't look a day past thirty. Sighing, you drop your head down to look at your drink, a half-full martini glass that held a rather disappointing cosmopolitan (you weren't a vodka fan anyway, it wasn't the bartender's fault).

You wanted to be home. That was the only place you ever wanted to be these days. At home, cuddling your darling kitty in bed, and sleeping your days away. Maybe a year ago you would have loved being out and about, but now it feels more like a burden than a fun activity. And you know that Jimin doesn't mean any harm in doing what he does, but seeing him talk with so many people over the course of the night and being so happy is almost a bit gut-wrenching for you because you can't be as happy as him.

You began to feel the blood rush to your ears and your face get warm. Something was wrong, you could sense it. Everyone has those gut instincts when something isn't quite right, and this wasn't just an instinct, it was like a neon sign. A neon sign that read DANGER. Perhaps it was just you feeling rather anxious and overwhelmed, but either way you were craving the comfort of your home.

"Hey, 'Minnie, can we-" Just as you turned to Jimin to softly ask him if you could go home or at the very least switch bars, you felt a presence behind you. It wasn't just an I'm here to order a drink presence, but rather an I'm here for you one. Realizing that Jimin wasn't even listening anyway, you froze, waiting to see what would happen. And that's when you heard a familiar voice that you thought you'd never hear again.

"Hey."

You didn't want to turn around. You tried to stay as still as a statuette for as long as possible, however the more you thought about the man behind you the more you felt the urge to turn around and take a bite of the forbidden fruit. Taking a deep breath, you slowly turned until you were face-to-face with your ex, Jungkook.

"Want to talk outside?" Not yet looking at him directly, you hesitantly nodded before quickly looking back to Jimin and then standing up. You left your purse there, figuring that your friend would grab it if he changed locations, and began trailing after the tall tattooed figure that navigated his way toward the door.

As the two of you stepped out into the cool autumn air, you crossed your arms and leaned against the building. Your heart was between your ears at this point, buzzing at what felt like 200 beats a minute. It was stupid for you to have even left Jimin's side, you thought, because now you were alone with your ex of all people and God knows what this boy has up his sleeve.

"You look good," Jungkook said gently as he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and placed one between his lips. "And I know what you're going to say, you're so full of it Kook, but I mean it."

"Since when have you started smoking?" You asked, ignoring his previous two statements and gesturing toward the pack in his hand. He shrugged. "Couple weeks after I last saw you maybe? Not a big deal."

"You know that stuff's bad for you."

"I don't think sitting here third-wheeling with Jimin and his beau of the night is any better."

"You don't know Jimin, don't act like you do," You said, completely taken aback and offended by the words coming out of his mouth. "And I'm having a good time, thank you very much."

"Doesn't seem like it. Weren't you about to ask him if you guys could leave?"

"I was having- What?- Is there a reason you asked to talk to me out here?" You were struggling to form a complete sentence. This man always knew how to leave you speechless, but now it was just irritating. You watched as Jungkook leaned back onto the building with you and shook his head, giving you a toothy grin before lighting the cigarette in his mouth. "Nah. Just figured you'd have more fun out here talking to me and getting a break from it all."

"You know he's waiting for me, right? I should go back inside." You stand back up straight and begin walking back into the bar, however you feel a warm hand wrap gently around your wrist and tug you back. "Hey hey hey," Jungkook called. "He'll survive a few minutes without you. Just chill with me. I'm not asking you for anything, just a second of your time."

You turned to face your ex-lover, your eyes finally meeting his for the first time that night. Even after all this time of being apart, those beautiful doe eyes still yearned for you, and yours for him. With a shaky sigh, you brush his hand away and return to where you were standing. "Exes don't hang out like this, Jungkook."

"Woah, you're pulling out the full government name on me now?" The boy teased, puffing a cloud of smoke from his mouth. "Should I be offended?"

"I'm setting boundaries," You crossed your arms and kicked at the ground beneath you. "Nicknames are for friends or more than friends, which we aren't."

"We aren't strangers either though."

"That doesn't matter. Not friends."

"Alright, fine," Giving up, Jungkook looked down at his hand and flexed it awkwardly. "Just trying to be friendly."

"Friendly?!" You said frantically, finally having enough of his antics. "You don't need to be friendly. We broke up and that's the end of it. Exes aren't friends. They go their separate ways and when they see each other again – if they see each other – they ignore each other. I don't get why you're doing this psychological warfare bullshit on me."

"Exes can be friends," He breathed out in protest. "Can you even tell me why we broke up in the first place?"

You remained silent. The truth was that you didn't know why you broke up either. It had been almost a year since the whole ordeal went down, and you were still confused more than anything else, even more than you were hurt. All you can remember is that you guys went through some bullshit ‘mutual breakup’ that apparently neither of you wanted in the first place. The only reason you even agreed to it is because somewhere within you, you felt like perhaps you weren’t deserving of such a wonderful relationship. And the only reason Jungkook agreed to it is because he thought that it’s what you wanted.

"No, seriously. What went wrong? What did I do? I just want some closure..." His voice became increasingly softer as he kept speaking, which only meant one thing. You stared at the ground intensely, refusing to look up and see his teary eyes.

You felt his hand gently wrap around yours and tug on it as a plea for your attention. Jungkook was your weakness, the only person you'd willingly do anything for, and he really loved to take advantage of that without even realizing he was.

You peered up at him hesitantly, worried that you'd find yourself in tears the second you saw the ones pouring from his eyes. Sure enough, when the eye contact began, you were driving yourself forward into his strong arms and dampening his shirt with your tears.

Jungkook's embrace felt the same as it did the last time you felt it. It was still so warm, so inviting, so loving. Never once did you feel unsafe in his arms and this moment was not an exception. As you sobbed into his shirt you felt his hand move from around your waist to the top of your head, stroking your hair gently.

The two of you stood there for what seemed like hours, simply letting all emotion out while enjoying the company of one another. While Jungkook has been exceptionally transparent in expressing the fact that he's heartbroken about the situation between the two of you, it's safe to say that you feel equally as devastated. This man was once the love of your life and the only one you ever needed, but now everything about him except for his embrace feels foreign. This was someone you once saw yourself building a life with, but now it's shattering to think that he has a life after you.

You pulled away after a while, refusing to make eye contact as you wiped the tears from your eyes. This all felt entirely pointless. It was obvious that nothing went wrong in the relationship yet here you were, no longer in one. You couldn't begin to imagine what Jungkook had been going through since you guys broke up considering the fact that for you, your entire world turned upside down.

"I'm sorry," You managed to choke out before you felt Jungkook's hand gently guide your face up to look at his. You watched him stare at you for a moment, taking in your features, before his lips began to curl into a soft smile. "Mmm. Yeah. You're way too pretty to let slip through my fingers."

Feeling your face turn hot as a blush crept to your cheeks, you let out a soft giggle before you were cut off by a familiar pair of lips meeting yours.

"JUNGKOOK?" You heard a voice call out. The two of you pulled apart, eyes wide. Shit. You forgot about Jimin.

[p0rk-guts]

Velvette if she served cunt

Design breakdown below 👇🏾(BEWARE IT'S VERY LONG)

Alright going into detail about my gripes and edits. Like Velvette but her design is just. Not good to me. None of her (main) outfit details look like they fit to me— pinstripe pants + long fur coat paired with black crop top and scene sleeves? Skull earrings? TINKERBELL HEELS????? Tell me how any of that meshes well or even makes SENSE for the social media influencer persona she's supposed to have going on. Now that I think about it I'm pretty sure she's supposed to be clown themed... But I'm just gonna toss that idea out bc being a revered social media influencer and a clown at the same time just seems a bit oxymoronic to me, and the "clown" details aren't adding shit for me.

And don't think I forgot about her features. Pale ash grey skin and wavy hair at best. If she was supposed to be some type of creature where a nonhuman skin tone would make sense then maybe I could let it go?? But as far as I can tell she doesn't have an object or creature or animal theme like the other V's and if she does I shouldn't need to do detective work to figure it out. There is no reason for *any* of these poc characters to have grey skin, especially since they don't have any other poc features at all.

Sorry that shit gets me heated anyways. Onto my redesign. Gave her a more obviously black skin tone and textured hair bc I love a 30 inch buss down as much as the next girl but considering how there are no significant poc cast members with visibly textured hair I think she deserves to flaunt some coils if no one else will.

Ngl I'm not. A fashion girlie. Idk what's trendy idk what screams "influencer" so a lot of this was just throwing shit at the wall that I've seen around recently but it looks cute enough to me. And there was a bit of inspiration taken from Aliyahcore and ghetto fabulous fashion ❤️

If you can't tell this is shamefully inspired by lovesart23's Velvette reimagining because imo they had some outstanding ideas for Vel. I low-key stole their idea for those floating eyes in her hair that follow her around and help her keep tabs on shit it was just a superb idea for a social media overlord to me. I also took some inspo from @furbtasticworksofart 's redesign because vampire influencer sucking up the souls of her followers in exchange for content??? Too good (also the eyes were supposed to have bat/vamp wings I just forgot 😭) So yeah she's a vampire demon now. Without the features she was looking too human anyhow. Maybe she also feeds off of the energy of her followers through tech like after Vox mind controls them or whatever... Idk idk is that anything

Speaking of Vox, the screen glasses are meant to connect her to him w/ their color and shape while serving the purpose of being like a second phone she can post and check the web with. Like lovesart said in their reimagining vid, Vel doesn't really do more than pose for selfies and scroll on her phone when it comes to social media so in my head she's constantly flipping her shades on and off, using them to scroll and stay active, and they can show when she's not paying attention or respect to something/someone bc scrolling is more worth her time in the moment.

The hearts everywhere are also supposed to kinda represent social media likes + connect her back to Val w/ his heart patterns. That might've been what the hearts in her og design were for but. I just didn't like their placement bc I'm a nitpicker and a hater❕

I have so much more I could say about possible ideas for Velvette because I love evil black girls and I only want them to succeed in my media and I could treat her so much BETTER but I'll refrain bc this is way too long anyway.

Alright for reading/scrolling through all that rambling I offer you the sketches + some alt hair ideas I had

P.S. I'm very open to constructive criticism but if I see anyone just dick riding in my replies or rb's I'm just blocking you on sight ✌🏾

[1onelypoet]

sweet tooth (for you) pt2 || lando norris smau

a/n: part 2 is doneeeee! thank u guys for all the reblogs n likes n comments, i love u all sm ❤️ it literally makes my day omg. anyways, idk if i'm losing it but this part feels shorter than part1 but who knows. also it does sorta jump around a bit in time so if ur confused abt the timeline n stuff hopefully the dates will help? 😭 part 3 will (hopefully) come before valentines day -- also i might do a vday special or smth idk -- but i'm trying for sooner 💪 i did not mean to write this much lol but anyways have an amazing day/night ❤️❤️

pairing: lando norris x singer! ex-leclerc! reader

fc: reneé rapp

warnings: cursing

taglist: @drunkinthemiddleoftheday @kapsylia, @i-wish-this-was-me

disclaimer: this is completely fictional. no hate meant towards anyone mentioned.

part one, part three, part four

charles_leclerc August 24

liked by scuderiaferrari, manonsworld, pierregasly and others

tagged arthur_leclerc, leclerc_pascale, joris__trouche, hugomicallef, riccardoberetta, guizou02, nico_noaro, thomascretot, traininginexcellencemc

charles_leclerc Fun times 🙃

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arthur_leclerc ❤️

user1 weird way to propose but okay!

user2 honey he's gonna cheat on u three years in 😔 ↳ user3 with ur friend too...

joris__trouche Con i ragazzi 🔥 trans: With the boys

user4 glad your summer break was fun 💕

user5 ummmm... anyways stream tummy hurts by y/n!

yourusername August 24

liked by leclerc_pascale, lilymhe, danielricciardo and others

tagged sethmyers

yourusername thanks for having me :)

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leclerc_pascale Belle ❤️

yourusername merci ❤️

user6 post break up glow is real

lilymhe cutie

yourusername no u ↳ lilymhe no, no u

yourbff mother.

user7 he fumbled a baddie fr 🔥🔥

f1gossip August 25

liked by manonsworld, user8, f1gossipgirl and others

tagged manonsworld, mlnmarta

f1gossip Manon spotted in the paddock today

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manonsworld ❤️❤️

user8 NAHHHH

user9 this is not the serve you think it is, babe...

user10 the dress 😍😍

user11 y/n did it better.

user12 she's really wasting no time

user13 no fr just popped out of nowhere

user14 who's that next to her?

user15 marta, the wife one one of charles's friends ↳ user14 ahhh okay ty

yourusername added to their story August 25

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f1gossipgirl August 25

liked by f1gossip, user16, user17 and others

f1gossipgirl Charles and his girlfriend, Manon, were allegedly spotted by the paparazzi in Corsica on August 7th and 12th. However, some fans noticed that the photos taken on the 12th had a resemblance to a photo featured in Charles' annual summer break photo dump on Instagram.

Most, if not all, of the photos on Instagram were taken by Antoine Truchet (Charles' friend and a professional photographer who has shot with Charles many times in the past). We this as on August 21, Antoine posted a series of photos, with a caption saying "corsica with CL". Some of the photos posted here were also posted on Charles' Instagram, further confirming Antoine's presence on this trip. It can also be assumed Antoine took most, if not all, of these photos as he is not actually featured in any of the pictures, which is strange as he is quite close with Charles and his friends. This all makes sense when you assume that Antoine was the one taking all the photos. Also, the photos are clearly taken by a professional.

So now we've established that Antoine, a professional photographer, was there in Corsica, and he likely took all of the photos posted by Charles.

Going back to the photo that sparked recognition, it can be seen that in the picture Charles is wearing a white button-down shirt, and is sitting on a green-and-white striped beach chair. Similarly, in the photos taken by the paparazzi on the 12th (not the ones in the water, but the ones sitting in the chair with Manon), Charles is seen wearing a white button-down as he sits in a green-and-white striped beach chair. These photos were taken on the same day.

All of this has brought fans to speculate that Charles was the one who notified the paparazzi of his presence, which would explain how the photos were even taken (the paparazzi are good, but are they that good..?). It would seem that Charles decided to have a little "photoshoot" and, as his summer break is probably busy, he wanted to get it done in one day. Expose the new girlfriend and take quality pictures for fans!

Many are still confused in regards to the reasoning behind him tipping off the paparazzi and exposing his infidelity.

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user17 lol why can't it be a coincidence

user18 THISSS!!! not everything is a conspiracy!!! ↳ f1gossipgirl this is a gossip channel babes... it's what we do...

user19 why would he even do this?

user20 celebs do weird shit all the time 🤷‍♀️

user21 it could've been for PR? ↳ user22 I mean it's not like Charles/Ferrari is lacking attention ↳ user21 that's true

user23 im so confused why does antoine being there mean he called the paps?? 😭😭

f1gossipgirl it's just weird that his photographer was there the day he gets papped. and we've seen this happen before (*cough* Becky and Carlos *cough*)

yourusername August 31

liked by theestallion, landonorris, charles_leclerc and others

yourusername music video for pretty girls out sep 5th 0:00 CET

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yourbff try not to say mother challenge (IMPOSSIBLE)

yourusername marry me. ↳ yourbff bet.

spotify we're ready 🥴

caradelevingne ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

user24 damn we're being fed WELL

scarlett it was great working with you ☺️

yourusername tysm scar!!! i loved working w u too 🫶

yourusername September 5

liked by caradelevingne, yourbff, instagram and others

tagged caradelevingne, scarlett

yourusername out now ;)

huge thank u to everyone who made this possible 🩷

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user25 I love women so much

rachelzegler oh u ate that up

landonorris slay 😋

user26 HELP LANDO WHAT ↳ user27 slay 😋

instagram she's an icon, she's a legend, and she IS the moment!!!!

user28 now come on now!!!

landonorris September 17

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landonorris Carlando podium let's gooooo

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yourusername ate

user29 I agree!!

mclaren What a weekend 🔥🔥

team_quadrant LFGGGGGG

oscarpiastri 🏆🙌

user30 oscar using emojis is my roman empire

user31 SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP

September 20

yourusername added to their story September 24

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y/nupdates September 25

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y/nupdates Y/n with a fan at the Suzuka Circuit yesterday

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user34 STOP SHES SO GORGEOUS

user35 nah imagine going to a gp AND seeing y/n. I would die.

user36 ok but going to the gp is such a girlboss move

user37 LITERALLY

user38 she's out here winning the idgaf war

user39 do we know if she saw Charles there?

user40 i don't think so

October 11

[kaciebello]

 Bring a scythe to a sword fight

Masterlist Luke Castellan x Hades! reader (implied, fem) Percy Jackson x Hades! reader (platonic) Summary: The reader is gradually suspicious, not believing Clarisse is the lightning thief  Warning: Angst?, no use of y/n authors note: Idk, I kinda blacked out writing this, sorry if it does not make sense. English is not my first language so I am sorry for any mistakes beforehand. Proofread by me and me only :( Word count: 1.6k

Ever since Poseidon claimed Percy and he was moved to cabin 3, the camp became lonely. He eats at his own table, gets to choose his camp activities, and calls ‘ lights out ‘ whenever he feels like it. The other campers think he's a monster magnet now. Most people avoid him, and even Clarisse stays clear of him. Only 4 people in this camp don't seem to be afraid of him. Grover, they often pick strawberries together. Annabeth, who took it upon herself to teach him ancient Greek. Luke, who still gives him sword lessons, although they are now more of one-on-one sessions. And the girl Luke seems to have heart eyes for. She mostly hangs out around them when they are training. Such as now.

Luke, was not going easy on him, as always. But Percy was still on his feet, meaning he was improving. Or that is what he believed in before Luke managed to tap the back of his knee and make him fall. A frustrated groan leaves him when Luke's sword touches underneath his chin.

“Giving up?” Luke asks and moves the sword away, extending his hand to Percy. He takes it and gets up. Percy can't help but curse a little.

“Don't worry bubble boy, Castellan is just a show-off, you're doing great.” Says the girl, who was sitting on a rock this whole time, nose in some sort of book he did not recognize. Scoff leaves Luke as he puffs out his chest. Percy picks up his sword and turns his whole body to the girl.

“I'm not really sure of that.” He says, hesitant.

“Trust me, once you take on one of the other campers you'll be alright, Lukes is just hardcore when it comes to it.” She says, putting her book down and getting up, stretching her body.

“ How about we give Percy a break. Why don't you fight me? A little spar?” Luke says and walks to the girl, offering a sword to her. Her face twists in disgust and pushes it away. Laugh just leaves his friend before he turns to Percy in the fastest way possible.

“ She claims I'm hardcore, but the truth is, I've never seen her with a sword in her hand,” Luke says, smirking when he hears the girl scoff. Percy's eyes widen.

“You don't fight?” He peeps out, higher than he wanted to. She just shook her head.

“I'm a healer, I don't fight. And I certainly don't play with swords” She says and flicks her hand. Luke rolls his eyes when she sticks her tongue at him.

“How do you survive capture the flag?” Percy asks, he's still not sure he understands the game. He also notices his friend now sitting down and decides to sit down on the floor as well. She, again, shakes her head.

“ I don't play, I stay in the med tent.” She says sitting down next to Luke. Although to Percy it looked like Luke dragged her to him more. He wondered if he could also do that. Just not play. Although Luke probably wouldn't let him. Percy spaces out, not noticing the older campers sitting now a little bit close to anyone's liking, giggling. He also does not notice Annabeth heading their way. But in his defense, she could have been wearing her Yankee cap, he would not know. Her voice snaps him out.

Turns out she was not there to laugh at Percy's poor fighting skills, nor was she there to spy on his progress. Luke was needed, ‘counselor duties’ she said. Completely ignored the fact the other two campers there were technically counselors of their cabins too. Luke told them both he would see them at the bonfire and followed Annabeth back to the camp. Leaving the two forbidden kids alone.

“Ya know,” she says. “I could beat him.”

“What?” Percy turns to her.

“I could beat him up in a sword fight, I just chose not to.” She says getting up, and picking up her book. Percy just gives her a confused look and she sighs.

“ You could too, with time I mean.” She extends her hand to him and helps him up. “We are children of the big three, Percy. There is a reason why they promised to stop having us. You and I, by default, can be the strongest people here. Even someone like me can beat the best swordsman in the last 300 years in his own game. You just need time.” 

Till now Percy thought he was the only one. I did not accrue to him that she may understand. Now that he thinks about it, Percy can count on one hand that he has seen her interact with other campers, not counting Luke of course.  Percy now realized he wasn't alone in this lonely life of Poseidon's son. She is, kinda, his family now too.

—

“ We know who’s the lighting thief.” Says Percy on the other side of the Iris message. She and Luke were just in Chiron's office discussing what to the with the other campers, as they started to take sides.

“How do you know?” “Who?” They say simutainlusly. She looks at him weirdly for a second, thinking that that's not an appropriate question. Percy and Annabeth ramble about meeting Ares, he says something about Ares knowing who the lighting thief is and protecting him.

“ His favorite daughter. Clarisse is the lighting thief.” Luke finishes Percy's thought.

“Nonsense, Clarisse would not do that.” The girl defends her. She may not like the girl very much, but her being the lightning thief is ridiculous. Luke just gives her a pointed look and promises to tell Chiron. Percy turns to say more, but the iris message ends. Luke looks at her softer than he expected.

“ I don't think we should tell Chiron anything.” He says and takes her into a hug. She wrapped her arms around him and they swayed from side to side. Nodding in agreement.

“ If we go by their deductions, it could be anyone. I mean think about it. You would not be in the clear either. Who else than Hermes's son, the god of thieves, to steal the lighting bold.” She was just saying her thoughts out loud. However, Luke's hug tightens. He narrows his eyes and she can see the anger that shows up whenever someone mentions his father. 

“ I did not mean it li th-”

 “ Or you, who better than a daughter of Hades, someone who hates both Poseidon and Zeus.” Luke cuts her off. His eyebrow rose, wanting to see her reaction. She sighs and wraps her hands around his neck. Her comment was not meant to hurt him, but she knows she went overboard and decided to stay silent. Her fingers tangled in his hair, tugging a bit. His eyes close for a minute. She went to play with the camp necklace hanging on his neck. When he opened his eyes again, the hatred was gone.

“Come on, I'm sure someone needs medical assistance.” He says and makes his way out of the office.

“The Apollo kids can do that.” She says but follows him nonetheless. A laugh escapes him. They stop at the outside porch. He turns to her with soft eyes, some would say lovesick one.

“Ya know, there is one thing I did steal,” he says. She just gives him a confused look. “ Your heart.” 

A smile spreads on his lips as she groans. He turns around and walks down the little porch. She stops him when he gets to the bottom.

“Luke.” He turns to her with a hum.

“Whose side are you on?” She asks him, looking down at him from the top of the stairs. He was hesitant to answer, so she continued.

“ Percy or Zeus?” He just smiles, takes her hand, and helps her down.

“ I don't side with gods.” He says.

—

Before Luke could strike Percy something blocked his sword. When he looks up he sees her. Before he can react, however, a dagger is thrown his way and he dodges it. Looking that way he sees Annabeth take off her cap. This is not how it was supposed to go. 

“Annabeth…” He breathes out. They were not supposed to be here. He was supposed to recruit Percy. He was gonna recruit them later.

The girl helped Percy up but kept him behind her scythe. Standing in the way of any danger that could come his way. When Luke turns to her, she points her scythe at him.

“Come on, sweetheart…” he tries, but by the look on her face, he can tell it is not gonna do anything.

“ You need to leave,” She says, her face hard as stone. Luke could not read a single emotion from her.  He tries to take a step to her but she swings her scythe at him. He blocks it with ease. He knows she does not want to fight. He knows that the swing was a warning, to keep him away. He knew she would never fight him.

So when he swings it does not come to his surprise she only defends herself. Never playing offense. To others, it may look like they were just dancing, old partners getting together for a spar. It was when Luke felt the wind from the portal he realized she moved him away from his original position. He knew that Annabeth and Percy would tell Chiron right away. She was allowing him to escape.

She stood in front of him. Scythe in a tight grip. Her eyes reminded him of a momma bear defending her cubs. With tears in his eyes, he turns around and leaps into the portal. In his mind, he promises to go back for all of them.