#in case someone wants to join me in my madness

[dertaglichedan]

Trump Fires Karen Rochlin, US Prosecutor Who Begged Judge to Send Jenna Ryan to Prison for Peacefully Protesting on Jan 6th

Karen Rochlin was the US Prosecutor who was switched to my case at the last minute, after I signed the plea deal, and before I was sentenced to 60 days in prison in Washington DC on Constitution Avenue. Last night, on President Trump’s 12 day in office, it was announced that the interim leaders in the DOJ have purged the agency of prosecutors involved in the January 6th Capitol fiasco. Rochlin was among dozens of prosecutors fired, and she prosecuted many of the Jan. 6th politically persecuted victims.

I must say, this is an emotional time for me, in that this woman was so heinous towards me, treated me so inhumanely and with such disdain, Her lack of a soul, of integrity or ethics in her handling of my case was striking and abusive. It is a time of reflection, and a feeling of relief that someone who was so callous, cruel and dishonest will no longer be working in our government and attacking hardworking citizens.

I could write 10,000 pages about the details of the harm this woman bestowed upon my life, but I will spare you all the details and just share with you in bulleted form the highlights of what I consider to be a ghoulish replica of human flesh; and the direct harm she inflicted upon me.

(...)

I was attacked relentlessly online by trolls, bots and God knows who else, and was searching with everything I could muster to find some humanity in the madness. I responded to one of the hurtful trolls telling me that I would be going to prison. I said, “No, I’m not going to prison…” That tweet became world news the next day, much to my mortification.

The next day I receive a call from my attorney. It seems the Judge saw my tweet and he was pissed because I said I was not going to prison and only the Judge could decide that. Also, my attorney found out that I would be getting a new prosecutor. I was shocked that the Judge was watching my tweets, and was even more beside myself than I had been all year, if that is even possible.

A week or so later, my attorney had the opportunity to speak to Karen Rochlin to find out what her recommendations would be; after their conversation my attorney called me and said, “She doesn’t like you. She thinks you’re a liar.” I was baffled. The woman never met me, never spoke to me, and I’d been nothing but honest with the DOJ, giving vast amounts of documentation and information to the government about every aspect imaginable about my personal life. I was desparately trying to avoid prison.

Karen Rochlin told my attorney that she would be recommending prison, despite the PSI officer who did the report recommending probation, and the previous prosecutor recommending probation, I would be recommended prison. My heart hit the pavement. After all they’d done to me all year, after everything—the millions of emails, death threats, attempts to take my business, making me change my name and hide, they were going to finish me off with a prison sentence. In my mind, they wanted me dead.

It then became a matter of how long I would go to prison. One day, the number came. Rochlin would be recommending 60 days in prison. She hated me. She joined the chorus of millions of people in the media, online and off of canceling me and throwing me in prison.

Right before the sentencing date, I received it. A 21 page sentencing memorandum that is so acerbic the thought of it crushes my soul. I pled guilty to parading, picketing and protesting in a restricted area, and she piled on 21 page of reasons why I deserved 60 days of prison. The sentencing memorandum was filled with conjecture, falsehoods and salacious headlines written about me in mainstream media. I asked my attorney if this was normal, and he said. No.

[ciderbird]

By the way if someone wants to know the list of actual historians this is based on here it is:

historian 1: Marie-Pierre Rey. She sees Alexander’s distrust of Napoleon as a proof of his political shrewdness and claims he was never in it for a long haul.

historian 2: Michael Adams. This guy wants to suck Napoleon’s dick so hard it makes him look stupid. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have some interesting insight about the alliance and the war.

historian 3: Nikolai Troitsky. He doesn’t outright call it a ruse but he thinks this alliance was doomed from the start and the famed friendship was mostly disingenuous on both sides.

historian 4: Albert Vandal. Listen. I was only able to find his book “From Tilsit to Erfurt” in French and Russian so I can’t show examples without translating them myself, but this guy describes the relationship between the two emperors in a way that puts ao3 writers to shame

every time I try to make some sense of the franco-russian alliance of 1807-1812 I’m losing my mind because it goes like

historian 1: from the very beginning tsar Alexander decided to use his charm to fool Napoleon and merely pretended to be his ally to win some time, much needed to prepare a new Coalition. We can see his distrust clearly from his correspondence.

historian 2: from the very beginning Napoleon decided to use his charm to fool Alexander and manipulated his ambitions to win some time, much needed to secure a peace with England. We can see the tsar’s excitement clearly from his correspondence.

historian 3: Napoleon and Alexander never actually trusted one another and the whole alliance was a ruse based on mutual flattery and empty promises so that the two great powers could prepare for a new war. We can see this animosity clearly from their correspondence.

historian 4: Napoleon and Alexander were mutually charmed and developed a deep intimate friendship that was sullied by obligation and political intrigue. We can see their sincere attachment clearly from their corres-

[gyaruhana]

please do one where Thanos starts off as your unlikely ally in the games, protecting you from danger and helping you survive. Over time, his protectiveness becomes obsessive, and he begins eliminating anyone he sees as a threat to keeping you by his side even as you start to notice his unsettling behavior you can’t escape his grasp🙏

Thanos/Choi Su-Bong - yandere bf

Synopsis: In an attempt to escape from Thanos, you join a game promising money that will help you escape him. Unfortunately, he also seemed to have joined the game.

A/N: I may have combined this with two other requests bc they were all so similar so.. i hope thats okay !!

Warning: yandere thanos, choking

If you had told your younger self you’d be in a game of death with 45.6 billion won up for grabs, you wouldn’t believe it. And yet, it’s true. After the tragedy that was Red Light, Green Light where many people met a rather unfortunate fate, you realized it’d be in your best interest to find someone you can trust and form an alliance with them.

Unfortunately for you, your boyfriend, Thanos, happened to also be a part of the games and had been watching you from a distance since he spotted you in the first game. You had originally wanted to get away from him because he was nothing but toxic though now it seems Thanos was one step ahead of you. That, or you just had terrible luck and Thanos decided to come here on his own accord. 

You didn't have time to think about it though because he suddenly got up and left his little group behind to make his way straight to you. He didn't seem happy at all. Perhaps it was because the last conversation you two had was an argument that was left off on a bad note. 

“Where have you been? Were you avoiding me? That makes me really fucking mad, you know,” he says as he grabs your wrist so you can't just walk away from him. Not like there was anywhere to go now. You were stuck with him here. 

“I was just taking some time for myself,” you respond defensively. You really just wanted to get away from him which is why you were here in the first place. Your original plan was to win some money and then disappear so you'd never have to deal with Thanos and his crazy behavior again. It was suffocating to be near him.

“Time for yourself? Don't fucking lie to me,” he says as he brings you closer to him. Nothing about him was gentle. Not his touches, or his kisses, or anything. “Well, you've had your time. You're not leaving my side now,” he continues as he looks down at you with a glare. He wasn't leaving any room for you to defy him. In his eyes, you belonged to him. You were his property and that meant you couldn't go rogue and do what you want. 

“You don't get a say in that,” you say as you lean back slightly to try to create some distance between the two of you. He lets out a bitter laugh before grabbing the back of your head, entangling his fingers in your hair, and forcing you closer. “Yes, I do. In case you forgot, you're stuck in a death game with me. Do you really think anyone else will help you? Nobody else here gives a fuck about you. The moment they get the chance, they'll let a bullet go through your head,” he says as he looks down at you with a slightly crazed look. 

You'd like to make a counter point but he’s not exactly wrong. A lot of the people here didn't seem to be trustworthy. Not like Thanos was any better but he probably wouldn't purposely kill you if you didn't piss him off, right? As much as you didn't want to, you realized you didn't have much choice. Unless you want to make an enemy right after the first game, Thanos was your only hope of surviving the rest of the games.

“That's better. Just keep your pretty lips shut and let me do the talking,” Thanos spoke with a slight smirk. You didn't respond to that knowing that you'd likely make some sarcastic quip that would piss him off if you did. You didn't have a choice this time. You couldn't run away to another country. You had to give in just this once.

You'd soon come to regret that decision. 

Somehow, Thanos had only gotten worse. He was always right next to you, no matter what. Either his hand would be over your shoulder or he'd have a tight grip on your waist. When it was lights out, he'd force you to sleep in the same bed as him. He'd kiss you all the time too but it was always rough with teeth clashing against each other and his tongue shoved down your throat.

You didn't notice it got worse until it was far too late. 

The moment of realization was during the third game. The game was called ‘mingle’ and it was simple enough. A number would be called out and you'd have 30 seconds to form a group of that number before getting inside one of the fifty rooms. 

Everyone stood on a circular platform in the center of the room and, per usual, Thanos had his arm over your shoulder, keeping you close to him as he spoke to his other stupid friend. The platform began to spin slowly as a childish song played. When the platform came to a sudden stop and a number was called out you formed a group and ran into a room. 

It was all going fine as you planned strategic moves and managed to keep on surviving. At least, it was going well. Until the last round when the number 2 was called. 

Thanos had immediately taken your wrist and dragged you towards a room, leaving behind his idiot friend without a second thought. However, the room was quickly stolen by two other players. You thought Thanos would just go to the next room over but that was not what happened.

Instead he pushed open the door and immediately grabbed one of the guys by their hair. He didn't think twice before he forced him out of the room. The other guy made an attempt to help but Thanos slammed him against the wall, his hand going around his throat as he choked him. The look in his eyes was far more scary than you remember. You could hardly process what was happening before the guy was punched in the face and pushed out of the room. 

Thanos pulled you in just before the door closed and locked. The sound of gunshots rang out soon after as Thanos huffed in annoyance. He looked guilt free despite the fact he was very much responsible for the death of two people. Actually, now that you really thought about it, he had killed other people in the previous games too.

Fuck. You were beginning to regret your choice of becoming his ally. You'd have much rather found someone else who could protect you from him because he was clearly fucking crazy. Crazier than he used to be. You thought he was just a manipulative, toxic bastard. You didn't think he'd be truly capable of murder. 

“Fucking dickheads,” Thanos mumbles under his breath with annoyance before glancing at your face. The corner of his lips quirked up when he noticed your expression and he wandered in front of you. “What? Something wrong?” He spoke though he already knew exactly what you were thinking.

“You killed those people,” you said as you looked up at him with a combination of fear and disbelief. He laughed in response before reaching a hand up and grabbing your face. “For you, baby. I fucking killed them for you,” he said as he looked down at you with a smirk. He found your expression such a turn-on really. The idea you were afraid of him meant you'd submit to him and that's all he wanted.

“You're fucking crazy.. crazier than I thought,” you spoke as you tried to step back and create some distance between the two of you. In response, he slammed you against the wall and got very close to you. 

“You're only just realizing this? You don't realize when I snapped the ankle of that bastard who looked at you so he'd lose? You didn't realize when our ‘friend’ and I returned but he had a bleeding nose?” He spoke as he got into your face with a dangerous grin. Well, when he said it like that, it became abundantly clear he had been killing and hurting people left and right since day one and all for you. You just had been too caught up in his behavior towards you that you didn't notice how he acted with others.

“Mm. Fuck, I love that look on your face. You're so afraid. Good. Because you're going to learn that you're mine forever, yeah?” He spoke as he brought a hand to your throat and squeezed it tightly. He let out a laugh as he choked you like it was the funniest thing in the world before slamming his lips to yours in a rough kiss. 

It was then you realized that, no matter how hard you tried to escape, you were his now - you always have been - and you will never taste freedom on your tongue again.

[karinasbaby]

park sunghoon — THE PUSSY EATING COMPETITION!

P. munch!sunghoon x fem!reader (17+) | W. pussy eating (obv), squirting, oral, unprotected sex, cursing, multiple orgasms, munches jakehoon + munchwon , freakseung, subspace, biting, other shit i forgot | WC. 5.7k !! | A,N. this one’s for my babychels ! @ak4e7a ♡ … would anyone like a drabble about heeseung’s experience?

in which… jake convinces sunghoon to join a pussy eating competition with a bet !

“you want me to join the what?” sunghoon questioned, his thick eyebrows furrowed, plump lips parted in confusion.

“the pussy eating competition, bro!” jake rolled his eyes as he repeated his sentence for the third time already. reaching over to flick a concerned looking sunghoon’s forehead.

“and why the fuck would i join whatever the fuck that is?” he smacked jake’s hand away when the stinging pain rushed in his head. cursing jake more under his breath. “why the fuck not?” he huffed, “heeseung was at it yesterday, he won his stupid bet with jay.”

“they had a bet?” sunghoon closed his laptop, deciding that whatever notes he was about to take from their lecture can wait until he figures out if jake is being serious or not. “yeah, dude. jay bet heeseung fifty bucks if he could make his girl squirt three times in ten minutes.” jake chuckled at the memory.

“and heeseung won?” sunghoon questioned, eyebrows raised in anticipation this time as jake’s smile only widened. “won the bet in eight minutes and twenty six seconds.” he laughed, sunghoon wasn’t surprised or shocked in any way. he was surprised at jay’s idiocy of choosing ‘ten minutes’ when all heeseung has been doing since he got laid was boast about his squirting ability in their group chat.

and heeseung called himself ‘the pussy squirting fairy’ way too often for their liking.

and besides who even came up with this stupid competition in the first place? who even agreed to any of this? why did heeseung and jay join? and why the fuck was jake asking him to join too?

“listen bro it’s nothing serious— you go to the pussy eating competition center and ask to join in for a competition with someone— in that case that will be me, and then we’ll get to eat some fire pussy out for free so it’s really just a huge win situation.” jake rambled, balancing between his two feet as he continued to convince sunghoon to join in with him.

“we could even place a bet like hyung and jay did! ten minutes for three squirts is a good deal you know? it’s just that heeseung is a fucking frea—“ jake’s voice slowly got tuned out of sunghoon’s ear as he thought about this more.

considering all the possibilities of this competition that still sounded pretty unreal to him, was this a stupid idea? yes. should he trust jake? no. did he not believe this idea because it sounded like a dream? yes. was the last time that sunghoon got offered pussy around three months ago? unfortunately, yes. did he currently feel like a loser teenage boy with his pants tightening at the thought of eating pussy? … also yes.

but was this an opportunity for him to live up to his ‘certified munch hoon’ title though? yes. and was sunghoon going to take it? fuck yes.

“you could also tap out at any minute—“ “where can i apply?” sunghoon interrupted jake’s irritating speech. “it’s not tha— huh?” his eyes widened in surprised, “you want to join?” he tilted his head to the side in a puppy like manner, a twinkle of excitement in his gaze. “you said you were going to join too, right?” sunghoon eyed him warily, a wave of relief washing down on him when jake nodded with enthusiasm.

“you also said we could place bets, yeah?” he questioned, “yes! like the ten minutes for three squirts hyung mad—“ “make it five.” jake gaped at him, blinking his eyes in surprise. “what?”

his hand came up to rest on sunghoon’s shoulder as he tried to process his words, “five minutes?” his gaze became conflicted as the younger nodded, “five minutes for three?” jake tried to understand him more, really trying his best.

“five minutes for five squirts.” jake gulped.

“for a hundered bucks.”

well fuck.

sunghoon was on a mission.

wearing a white, sleeveless shirt along with jeans to make his movements easier, the shirt given to him by jake in order to ‘tell apart who got the more squirts’ according to the wetness that coated the white fabric.

he was now standing in line with jake, the shorter one walking with a slight bounce in his step from his excitement. “are you ready?” he whispered, eyes travelling all over the place where the competition was held.

countless other contestants from both genders aligned in the waiting line, each pair waiting their own turn, some going neck to neck with other friends and placing bets while others threw snarky glances at each other.

truly a competition for some.

“do we atleast get to pick who we get to eat out?” the taller sighed, his ebony locks sticking further to his temples due to his sweat, it was either unreasonably hot or sunghoon was weirdly nervous.

probably unreasonably hot. it was mid july after all.

“i don’t think so.. i didn’t ask hyung—“ “obviously no.” a foreign voice cut off jake, making the two turn around to greet another guy. that was also wearing a white shirt.

“it’s a competition. you don’t get to choose who you get to eat out.” he rolled his eyes as if it was the most obvious thing. god what an obnoxious attitude.

sunghoon rolled his eyes, “pipe the fuck down, jungwon. we get it you practically live here.” jake snapped back. running his fingers through his hair while he turned around. he looked unusually restless for sunghoon’s liking.

i mean, there was a whole hundred dollar bill on the table for this bet.

“park sunghoon and sim jaeyun! you’re up next.” the same guy who jotted down their names in his board, who sunghoon assumed was the manager— called both of their names up to the front.

where sunghoon wasn’t prepared to have his breath knocked out of his lungs so quickly.

as he and jake stepped up the smal staircase leading to the mini stage where two chairs were situated, there sat two girls. very very pretty girls. dreamlike pretty girls. one hundred percent sunghoon’s type. really really pretty gir—

“stop fucking staring like a creep.” jake elbowed him when he realised that sunghoon was basically two seconds away from drooling at the sight of you. sunghoon covered his awkward staring with a strained cough. lowering his head and unknowingly bringing attention to his reddening ears.

which at the sight of, you chuckled.

and sunghoon’s knees almost buckled.

“take your respective positions and be prepared.” the manager, who sunghoon caught a brief glance at the name tag of— mark. ordered them around. sunghoon stepped closer towards you. who stared at him with the most alluring glint in your eyes. you were wearing a pink top with pink lace panties that were covered by a feather light towel. don’t ask how he noticed them.

“hi.. i’m sunghoon.” he spoke awkwardly, extending out his hand towards yours. finding his demeanour adorable, you quickly shook his hand. a smile gracing your features as you introduced yourself to him.

three months shouldn’t be that much time since he got with a girl but it felt like it was centuries ago. especially with the way his heart began to thump thump thump! between his ribs weirdly.

he spared a swift glance to jake, just in time to catch him throwing a flirtatious wink towards his own girl. goodness that dude was a freak himself.

“spare the introductions and get into your positions, what was your bet again?” mark quickly muttered, glancing at the paper in his hand and back at jake and sunghoon. pushing his glasses above the bridge of his nose.

“a hundred bucks.” jake spoke, puffing out his chest in anxiety, “and that’s for ten minutes right? three orgasms in ten?” mark nodded as he wrote down the timing on his paper.

“no actually… it’s five minutes.” jake bit his lips, sunghoon shook his head in slight disbelief and embarrassment at the current situation they were in right now. totally ignoring the fact that there were two drop dead gorgeous girls whispering and giggling right behind them both.

“five minutes for three?” mark questioned, his eyebrows raising in surprise that increased when sunghoon quickly shook his head in denial, “five minutes for five.” mark blinked.

a slight echoing line of ooo’s made their way into jake and sunghoon’s reddened ears, embarrassment crawling up their backs as mark awkwardly cleared his throat and nodded to their words. quickly changing the numbers on the timer and scribbling a few other random sentences on his board.

“we’ll shortly start the timer and the competition will begin.” he stepped back allowing the two to inch back towards the girls, jake spared a quick glance at mark who was now holding onto the alarm clock between his fingers before lowering down to his knees in front of the chair.

sunghoon swiftly followed suit, dropping onto his knees and lifting his head right between your legs to welcome the heavenly view. gosh you looked divine.

“five for five, hm?” you cheekily smiled at him, a sight that made the boy’s heart throb with the sudden need to always make you smile. he nodded shyly, his slightly wavy locks ruffling in his hair in a fluffy manner at the motion. “better not disappoint.” you then discarded the towel to the ground.

“oh i for sure won’t.” sunghoon smirked, a wave of confidence descending on him at the sight of your soaked cunt so close to his face, he could practically taste your leaking essence from the side of your panties.

“on your marks..” the young manager called out, sunghoon skilfully pulled apart your plush thighs, placing your legs on top of his shoulders as jake did the same besides him. you quickly laid back towards the table behind you on your elbows, giving sunghoon full access to anything and everything.

“get set..” mark called out, eyes glued on the button that will start the timer while sunghoon pushed the tip of his nose against your slit, the contact making you hum in delight as his tip pressed against your throbbing clit while your essence soaked through the thin fabric and onto his skin.

he poked his tongue out just slightly, brushing against your sopping hole restricted by the lace fabric that began to slightly irritate him, and sunghoon was gone.

pineapples. cotton candy. cranberries. straight sugar. you tasted otherworldly. it was not surprising that you would taste delicious as you probably do take care of yourself to the best of your ability because of this competition, but for you to taste this dizzying? to have an essence and nectar that melted against his tastebuds like honey?

sunghoon was gone.

“go!” and just like that, sunghoon’s brain was replaced by a horny puddle of mush inside of his skull. unaware of the fact that he pushed and teared your panties to the side, aiming to lick a long, tantalising stripe starting from your hole till he reached your clit where he applied pressure.

the action made your hand shoot towards his head, gripping a handful of his soft hair in your hands as his tongue circled and pushed against your sensitive nub, his large fingers pried your thighs apart when they began to push against him. normally, sunghoon wouldn’t mind getting suffocated by plush and soft thighs like this. yet today, he couldn’t lose a hundered dollar bill against jake. out of all people.

and fucking jake was going at it next to him. making all sorts of wet noises that had his girl throwing her head back in pleasure. while the timer struck twenty five seconds.

fuck, he only had thirty five seconds left for the first minute.

that’s when sunghoon decided to let go of all of his restraints, allowing all the walls he kept to crumble right apart when he pushed your legs around his head, one hand holding your leg to keep your pressed against him as you needed the extra support while the other pushed his middle and ring finger deep inside of you.

a squeal left your mouth when sunghoon attached his plump lips around your clit. sucking and slurping so loudly, obscene noises followed by your moans and the ticking of the timer barely made their way past sunghoon’s ringing ears. he was completely out of it.

he thrusted his finger in and out. quickly in and out. too busy closing his eyes to savour your flavour on his tongue to take notice of the multiple webs of wetness that connected his knuckles and your entrance. his fingers reached so deep, they were so long and the perfect size to cause the most delicious burn in your walls as he stretched them open.

right when the timer hit forty seconds, sunghoon’s fingertip brushed against your sweet spot.

you mewled his name, back arching off of the table as he hummed in delight at the realisation, “found it, didn’t i? it’s right. here.” he accentuated every word with another thrust against the spot that had you seeing stars. you nodded mindlessly as the knot in your abdomen curled on itself the longer sunghoon abused your cunt.

“f-fuck yes! right there, baby. right there.” you encouraged him, moans increasing in volume the harsher sunghoon sucked around your clit, his fingers became even more restless after the sudden petname. baby. that’s right, he was your baby. the only one that will please you from now on.

“yeah, pretty girl? feels good doesn’t it?” sunghoon spoke against your clit, each word sending a vibration right against your spine as pleasure raked through your body in rough waves. it suddenly felt like you were the only two in the world. your surroundings melting in an instant as you gasped his name and praised him for making you feel so good. so ecstatic.

fifty seconds in, and that’s when the coil in your abdomen suddenly snapped.

your climax washed over you out of nowhere, such an intense and speedy build up that you weren’t even able to process anything till you started to shake under sunghoon’s hold. your wetness was dripping down his forearm as he fucked you through your orgasm, each thrust of his finger made your squirt land over his shirt.

first sixty seconds was a complete and easy success.

“first minute is done! one point for sunghoon, and one point for jaeyun.” mark called out. shit, so that fucker also managed to keep up with him then?

he still had four minutes to redeem himself. with the way he was able to easily make you squirt from the first fifty seconds he felt like he knew your body inside out. knew exactly which buttons to push and what nerve to pull to coax out another orgasm out of you. there was no way he was losing.

“minute two starting now!” mark’s voice reached sunghoon’s ears in a muffled manner as he pressed your twitching legs closer to his shoulders, this time sunghoon pushed his long tongue inside of your gushing hole. a lustful glint in his eyes as he reached his slender fingers towards your clit.

rubbing slow, torturous but powerful circles on your aching nub while he licked all over your walls, slurping against your wetness that leaked down his chin and made its way down his neck, fuck he was so addicted to your flavour.

your moans became weaker as your body tried to calm down from your previous orgasm, such a mind blowing climax washing down on your body so suddenly made your head spin. and sunghoon was already overstimulating you as he worked towards another orgasm. fuck. you, yourself were done for under him.

he felt so good. so skilled as he satisfied and pleasured you in ways you’ve never felt before. his strong, muscular arms keeping your legs open as he buried his face so mindlessly between them, diving into your wetness with no other care in the world as if he was born to do this.

he lived to devour pussy. truly suitable for a competition like this.

“gonna give me another one hm?” twenty nine seconds.

“think you can handle another one, babydoll?” he taunted, barely pulling out his tongue to speak before burying it back inside of you, his fingers never halting to a stop as they began to pinch and pull at your clit. the familiar tightening in your lower stomach made your mind reel while your silence began to frustrate sunghoon.

that’s when he landed a harsh slap against your clit. the sudden pain and pleasure making you jolt under his hold as you nearly screamed out his name. “y-yes, yes i can! please, i’ll give you as many as you want!” you cried out, your broken begs rushing directly into his aching cock in the confines of his jeans. exactly what he needed to hear.

“what a good fucking girl, hm? such a good girl for me, aren’t ya?” he mocked, hand resorting back to circling on your clit as he buried himself in your folds, his nose brushed up against his fingers while he thrusted his tongue in and out of you stimulating you in the best ways possible.

thirty seven seconds was all it took for sunghoon to make you squirt on him for the second time. in the span of a minute and a half.

he slapped against your leaking hole while you convulsed beneath him, each slap getting his shirt wetter which signalled mark to announce “minute two half way done, two points for sunghoon and one for jaeyun!”

jake’s noise of surprised went unnoticed by sunghoon, almost half way in. he thought to himself as he lifted your limp legs off of his shoulders and balanced himself on his knees again.

he pressed your legs together, making your swollen, glistening folds puff up one each other while your nectar slipped out of your hole in heavy, clear droplets. sunghoon wanted to do nothing more than to slurp it all up.

without wasting anymore time, he pushed his mouth against your cunt, kissing up against your folds as the timer showcased fifty seconds, as cocky as this might sound but he already knew he won. especially when he inhaled your scent deeply and pushed his nose and mouth onto your entrance again. successful in making you scream his name this time.

he held your shaking legs up with one hand, grip strong and tight as he relished in your flavour running down his throat. so addicted as he ate you out like a drunk man. completely high on your pussy. he sucked and licked and kissed everywhere so noisily.

sucking up your swollen and sensitive folds into his mouth, coating every inch of your skin in his saliva that combined with your own wetness before returning to slurp around your clit. his mind was reeling. becoming a mushy piece of muscle in his head as the only thought that drove him to continue was to make you squirt again.

“minute three starting now, with two points to sunghoon and two points to jaeyun. yet another tie!” fuck, jake was catching up.

but sunghoon for some reason was starting to not mind.. call it the euphoria of getting high off of pussy or anything else. he no longer wanted to do this to beat jake and win a hundred dollars. he wanted to do this because it felt good. you felt good.

and just like that, he began to indulge himself in your cunt entirely. surrendering and making his rational side disappear as he hummed and moaned at your taste. shaking his head from side to side as he slurped you up so well. drooling your essence further down his chin as he pleasured you because it was his own pleasure.

each moan of his sent shocks around you body. your surroundings blurring as the air around you became electrified. goosebumps aligning your skin when you felt another climax building up gradually in your abdomen. the longer he spent humming around your clit and buzzing up your whole body the further you felt your consciousness slipping away from your fingertips.

guess you couldn’t really handle it after all.

it was at three minutes and fifteen seconds when sunghoon made you squirt for the third time.

your hands shot to grip onto the chair that was by now shaking with your body, hot white ecstasy blinding your vision as your climax washed down on your body in violent waves one after the other. and sunghoon just kept going. noisily slurping up everything you offered. he was being so embarrassingly loud as he kept rubbing his face into your cunt, getting your wetness all over his face and jaw. overstimulating you more with each passing second while your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

“three minutes and twenty seconds in! three points for sunghoon and two for jake!” mark announced, his voice becoming unusually strained as the sight of the two men on their knees doing their best to pleasure their girls was starting to get to him.

it was his least favourite part of his job when he started to feel a tightening in his pants.

“so good for me, doll. we only need two more, come on. you can give it to me right?” you nodded with your head spinning. a dizzying sense of pleasure raking through your veins. sunghoon settled down for gentle bites across your thighs, giving you a few moments to cool down as he looked up.

big mistake.

the sight of you had one of his hands shooting down towards his raging boner that began uncontrollably twitching between his boxers. your pretty pink tank top ridden up revealing the underside of the plush skin of your breasts, a sheen layer of sweat coating your body as you breathed in deeply to calm your heart down when it felt like it was seconds away from bursting.

your fucked out expression is what did it for him. eyes hazed and high off pleasure. drunk on the feeling of his plump lips on your swollen cunt that tightened around nothing. sunghoon was so fucked.

“so needy for me isn’t she..?” he whispered only for you to hear, fascinated in the way your gaping hole winked at him. spilling out more of your sweet nectar that became sunghoon’s favourite drug in the matter of a few minutes. you grew flustered at his words, lifting your arm up t cover your eyes while sunghoon blew on your pussy teasingly.

discarding the competition and the fact that there were people around him, sunghoon quickly lifted himself up, leaning his body forward above yours as he began to hover on top of you. your breath hitched at the close proximity while sunghoon smiled adorably, showcasing you his pretty fangs that were sinking down your thighs just a few seconds ago.

“ready to give me another one, little girl?” he whispered. so so close to your face that his wet lips that were covered in your essence brushed against yours with every word. you nodded shyly, slowly getting fucked into subspace as your mind began to shut down. eyes blinking slowly while sunghoon pushed his long fingers back inside of you. gosh you were so cute.

three minutes and thirty two seconds in, and you were gripping onto sunghoon’s bicep that pushed his fingers inside of you deeper.

you were mewling and whimpering his name so prettily. so perfect and delicate under him. under his control allowing him to do anything with your body and it was driving him crazy. he couldn’t hold himself back when he finally pushed his lips against yours.

you moaned so endearingly under him. kissing him back so eagerly as his fingertip massaged your sweet spot making you bite gently on his lower lip. he groaned into your mouth as he fucked his fingers quicker. hitting all your spots with each thrust and making you see stars while he sucked on the tip of your tongue.

he didn’t care that he could be breaking rules right now. did not give a singular flying fuck that mark could be looking around confused wondering if this was accepted. and certainly did not even mind when jake scored his third point. all he wanted and needed right now was for you to cum for him as many times as possible. he needed to feel you tightening as your euphoria made you fall apart in his hold. it was a pleasure that he got addicted to.

“you close baby? feeling good hm?” he didn’t even need you to respond to him. not when your cunt was doing all the talking by clenching and drooling down his wrist. sucking in three of his fingers in so deeply he could only imagine how incredible you would feel around his cock, but in reality he shouldn’t imagine that right now. not when his dick was about to practically rip apart his boxers.

“s’close hoon.. so so close!” you blabbered, brain completely shutting down as you couldn’t tell apart your orgasm and overstimulation anymore. all you could feel and process was the unbelievable amount of pure ecstatic pleasure rushing throughout your whole body so wonderfully that it had you digging your nails into his back. your legs going numb under you as your knot tightened and tightened for the fourth time. almost done.

“come on, babydoll. cum for me like the good girl that you are.” he whispered against your neck and that was enough for you to squirt around his fingers again. he kept fucking into you, riding out your orgasm as your throat was no longer able to produce any noises, only soft whispers of pleads reaching sunghoon’s ear as he scored his fourth point easily.

he kissed along your jawline when he stilled his fingers inside of you, “please what, pretty girl?” he asked, already having a fleeting wild thought in his head that he discarded because he might actually lose his sanit— “i need your cock please. please for the last one, please fuck me.” holy fuck.

“three minutes and fifty six seconds in! four points for sunghoon and three for jaey— why are you taking your pants o?—“ mark’s voice became unreasonably loud towards the end but sunghoon was on a mission.

five squirts is five squirts. a hundred dollar bill is a hundred dollar bill. he’s not about to lose any of this because he didn’t push his cock into a pretty little hole like yours. no he was about to make his win a double win.

sunghoon pushed down both his jeans and boxers down in one go, his leaking cock springing out the tight pieces of fabric with multiple lines of precum dribbling down to his balls, thick mushroom tip that’s a fiery red throbbing in need and desire while your swollen hole gaped at him.

yeah he was gonna lose if he didn’t fuck you for sure.

“you ready, doll?” he asked as if he hadn’t spent the past few minutes stretching you out so nicely. you nodded so eagerly at his words. mouth watering at the sight of his veiny, thick cock pulsating so deliciously in front of you. he was so big. such a perfect size for stretching you out more.

he pushed the head of his cock in and god was he huge. you gasped around his lips when he gave you a few seconds to adjust before pushing his entire length in, bottoming out quicker than anticipated, but sunghoon didn’t care.

he couldn’t care less about the fact that he was fucking you in front of random people right now. why should he care when he knew he was going to bring you home by the end of the day and slither his way into your life after this? in fact, people should be glad because this will be the last time you’ll be seen here.

because he’s planning on having you in strawberry pink lingeries between his silky satin sheets for the rest of his life.

so technically, everyone should be glad they’re getting a show of you both right now. because it’ll be the last one.

“so deep hoon.. so fuckin’ deep..” you mewled, eyes shutting in pleasure when he slightly pulled out, barely by an inch before he thrusted back in. he felt the way your warm walls pulsed around his cock needily. sucking him back in with each movement as if they were not allowing him to pull out at all. so needy and so desperate to have something, anything to plug up your slutty hole.

“feeling good, pretty girl?” he asked, lowering his hand to press on the evident bulge that appeared on your lower stomach. the feeling made the two of you groan in pleasure, sunghoon was fleeting through cloud nine. he couldn’t believe how he went on with his life for so many years without spending each passing inside your cunt. so many time wasted when he could’ve been drunk on the heaven between your legs.

“s’good! so good, hoon.” gasping out the new petname that had his eyes rolling back, he glanced at the timer that was held by a flustered mark, palming his raging boner through his pants and noticed “four minutes and twenty nine seconds.” yeah the game was his. he won.

he switched his position, balancing himself back on his legs as he gripped your thighs, wrapping them around his waist while he sunk his cock in deeper. relishing in the sight of you throwing your head back when he penetrated you so good. the tip of his dick kissing against your cervix harshly. and just like that, he began to pound inside of you.

your unrestrained moans tumbled past your lips at his harsh thrusts. body being lit ablaze with mind numbing pleasure that enlivened every part of you. a different, never felt before kind of thrill rushed through your being. a fervent sensation that you’ve never experienced, one only brought to you by sunghoon as he continued to fuck you. determined on making you crumble completely around his cock.

and his wish was about to be granted with the way your abdomen began to tighten. exhaustion creeping up on you along with an almost scary build up of your climax. you were about to get knocked out with this one and you felt it.

“come on, angel. give me another one. the final one, i know you can do it, doll.” he encouraged, pressing his hand on his bulge that disappeared and appeared with every one of his thrusts, his large hand applying the perfect amount of pressure to have your head spin again. seconds away from cumming on his cock for the first time. his tip pressed and massaged all of your spots perfectly. “it’s right here, isn’t it? this is where you’re weak for me.” he chuckled.

you were slowly losing consciousness at this rate, body burning with euphoria that flashed through your limbs. “f-fuck i’m s’close! hoon— fuck!” you screamed his name as you felt your pleasure crashing down on you for the fifth time. walls tightening and clenching mercilessly making sunghoon hiss in pain while you squirted all over his abdomen.

the pressure from your orgasm made it hard for him to thrust back, but he continued. “and five points for sunghoon! at four minutes and fifty one seconds! park sunghoon is the winner of the pussy eating competition!” a new voice cheered from behind him, one that belonged to a taller manager that appeared since mark had to leave for a quick and ‘urgent’ bathroom break, making his best friend, johnny announce the winner.

but did the winner in question care right now? not really.

ignoring jake’s protests of disappointment and the sounds of his girl comforting him and finding him being upset adorable, also ignoring jake’s yells of shock and disbelief when he looked over and realised that sunghoon was currently balls deep inside of his girl. “i didn’t know you could literally fuck?!” he practically screamed at johnny as his girl tried to hold him back from jumping the taller guy.

yet all of this, went unnoticed by both you and sunghoon. who was now chasing his own pleasure inside of your divine pussy that kept trying to push him out while your back arched in his hold, pushing your chest against his as your body shook with complete overstimulation. he buried himself so deep inside of you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders as he hugged you when he pressed his tip against your cervix entirely before shooting his load inside of you.

both of you groaned in pleasure, sunghoon whimpering your name as his climax came down on him with intense ecstasy that coursed through his body. each nerve ending of his blazing with fire while his mind melted. you felt so unreal.

he finally came down from his high, allowing the two of you to catch your breaths as he was rooted still so deep inside of you. “you okay, doll?” he mumbled lowly only for you to hear, panting on your skin while you nodded tiredly, eyes clearly droopy and sleepy making him chuckle. finding all of your expressions so adorable.

“you did so good for me, little girl.” he kissed your lips, savouring the taste of you on his tongue and lips before he gently pulled away. pulling his softening length out and quickly fixing his clothing before grabbing your discarded towel to help clean you up. unaware of the fact that there was a looming, pissed jaeyun behind him like his shadow.

“what the fuck sunghoon!?” he suddenly yelled, making the two of you jump in surprise before you tiredly looked over and sunghoon angrily turned around. “the fuck are you yelling for?” he furrowed his eyebrows, seriously what was this dude thinking right now?

“you cheated!” he pointed his finger, eyes wide with the accusation as sunghoon only glanced at him one more time before returning to assist you. “didn’t he basically cheat?!” the shorter one turned around to face johnny who was too busy flirting with the next contestants, “yeah yeah you could do anything as long as you make the girl squirt, sim” he waved him off.

“why the fuck am i just knowing this?!”

at the end of the competition, sunghoon— as predicted won. he walked out of that place with not only an upset jaeyun and a hundred dollar bill, but also the love of his life.

a,note. thanks for reading !! (⺣◡⺣)♡

[corkinavoid]

I just found this in my notes

Apparently, I woke up at 5:23 in the morning, wrote it down, and went straight back to sleep. Trust my hyperfixated ass to still be making content even as I'm unconscious.

Anyways, yes,

DPxDC Trust Me, I'm an Engineer

Danny is half-ghost, but he is also a child of two mad scientists who spent the better part of their lives elbow deep in building all kinds of stuff out of all kinds of junk. Imagine what their kid, who loves science and engineering as much as they do, if not more, can accomplish?

When he moves to Gotham, he decides to leave all the heroics behind, hanging up his cape. Surely, he will be fine - Gotham has, like, what, six? seven? ten? vigilantes of its own. They don't need any more, and, besides, Danny is fairly certain he doesn't work that great in teams.

But there's just... so much crime happening.

Danny doesn't want to get involved, not really. He's retired. But he wants to help somehow!

So, he starts building unconventional devices for self-defense. A rubber duck that shoots lasers out of its eyes? A fork that turns into a shocker? A rice cooker that defends your home in case of an attack? A pen that transforms into a gas mask? You name it, he can build it.

It escalates quickly. Someone asks him to upgrade a baby carriage to a full impenetrable robot that will protect the baby inside it, and Danny decides why not. It's for safety. He installs countless safety measures so nothing could be triggered by mistake, and even though by the end the carriage doesn't look that much different, it proves effective in the first serious accident. In fact, it is so effective that it saves a total of five hostages, including the baby inside it, who didn't even cry because there are soundproof shields inside and recordings of the baby mother's voice.

Danny builds more of those carriages. Then he switches to home defenses. Then someone asks him to make brass knuckles that turn into a gauntlet shield in case of attack. Danny does a thorough check to make sure it won't fall into the wrong hands, but he ends up making it.

It doesn't take too much time for him to start making full-on robotic suits for people. Bulletproof, running on clean energy - Gotham has plenty of residue ectoplasm - with built-in defense mechanisms and stuff.

It is at this point that the Bats start taking a closer look at his inventions. Before that, they thought it was just some Rogue in the making, and they kept an eye on Danny, but never once has he created anything with the purpose of offense instead of defence, so they let it slide. But then Tim gets his hands on one of the suits and comes back to Bruce, nearly salivating over it.

A few weeks later, Danny gets an internship at WE. A year later, he is invited to work with the JL.

And that's when it hits him.

M e c h a s.

He can do real, actual mecha-suits for heroes. He can make them fit those heroes perfectly, enhancing their strengths and negating the weaknesses.

No alien invasion fucks with Earth anymore, because when they do, the JL just grabs their Danny Fenton Suits and whatever evil aliens were aiming to take control are annihilated in no time.

Maybe Tucker joins him along the way. Maybe Danny has an arms race with Lex Luthor, maybe Cyborg bonds with him over the mechanical rambling. What I'm saying is, cool robots for everyone!

[cherrydbear]

Since y'all seemed to like this I'll keep rambling on the subject, I can do this all day. Here are some of those examples where I think their friendship really shines through:

From Sanji's perspective, this guy just showed up outside his restaurant one day, dueled the legendary swordsman who slashed Don Krieg's fleet to pieces, willingly got cut almost in two, nearly bled to death, was tied up by his own crew and then captured by the Arlong pirates, still singlehandedly escaped and came back to join the fight and defeated one of Arlong's best fighters, then nearly bled to death again and woke up just in time to drink himself silly at the afterparty. I've heard people say they "match each other's freak" and that's the truth. Sanji watches this absolute wackadoodle of a man and knows he's found someone who matches his freak. From Zoro's point of view, some cook at a floating restaurant just fed all of their enemies out of principle before kicking their butts. How could he not respect that sort of unconditional adherence to a sense of honor and justice? Especially considering he himself experienced starvation not too long ago in Shells Town. Now this cook, the newest stray in Luffy's collection, immediately proves himself to be immensely capable both in the kitchen and on the battlefield, incurs injury to himself without complaint to protect these people he barely knows, and still is the only person to come sit by Zoro and check up on him. So Zoro knows that Sanji has a heart of pure gold, and I think that's a big part of why he gets frustrated when Sanji tries to cover it up with bravado and perviness.

This scene was really interesting to me because usually when someone demands that Zoro does something, he grouches and grumbles about it, so in this case it seems he just spontaneously started helping out himself. And if there was ever a man whose love language is acts of service, it's Roronoa Zoro. He seems to be more of a "companionable silence" kind of guy, while Sanji's a talker and will say anything to keep feeling connected. Now, I don't know if this is just a me thing, but I like to say my friends' names a lot, even just because the association with them brings me joy, but I rarely use the names of people I'm not close with except to refer to them in third person or to get their attention. In this scene, it seems to me that Sanji keeps repeating Zoro's name as a way to show he's thinking about him and appreciates him being there, though I might just be projecting.

Now, I know shippers go crazy over this one, but I think it's honestly really solid platonic evidence and I'll tell you why (not to dissuade shipping, I think you have to be friends before you can be more than friends so all of this can be fuel for the ship too if you want it to be). Firstly, they're comfortable enough to sleep this close together. Sanji's resting his sleepy head right on Zoro's shoulder (it should have been me, not him) and Zoro just lets him. Also note real quick, only a short distance away Luffy is using Usopp as a pillow, so they're all a cuddly cozy little family. When Zoro notices Sanji mistakenly trying to kiss him, he doesn't even move away, he just makes a face and waits for Sanji to wake up so he can make fun of him. Sanji, for his part, doesn't act embarrassed or disgusted that it turned out to be Zoro there, only playfully mad about his expression. They squabble for a few moments before Luffy pushes past them and they turn their attention to the next thing, argument forgotten, proving that neither was actually angry about anything and they were merely enjoying the opportunity to bicker.

This is from the hunting competition in Little Garden that I mentioned before. I just wanted to point out that both of them are grinning and clearly having a grand time.

(I love how Sanji's hands are just massive sometimes.) They have the entire forest clearing, and Sanji chooses to sit his little booty down right next to Zoro and toss his food at him. They're just like those kids in elementary who had beef over who has a more impressive Pokémon collection and would always sit next to each other at lunch to compare cards and play together at recess but claim they're archnemeses. And for as much as Sanji implied to Usopp (though oblivious) that the heart shaped vegetables were just for the ladies, he did choose to make it and serve it to the whole crew. Speaking of the ladies, Sanji is always adamant about protecting them, but he was perfectly fine with leaving Nami and Robin in Zoro's care, just as Zoro trusted Sanji to take care of Luffy and Usopp.

I also loved how Sanji packed Zoro a cute little lunchbox for exploring and he was NOT going to let no stupid south bird take it from him.

Alright that's all for today folks I gotta wake up in like 5 hours for work lol

Continuation from this post

[minswriting]

Fear Of Loving You - Spencer Reid x Reader

About: Reader is madly in love with Spencer Reid. But rather than confessing her feelings for him, she gets into a different relationship to try and move on from him. When he finds out, he’s quite mad. Cue the angsty ish love confession

Warnings: Angst, love confessions, emotions, slight nsfw, mdni

Word Count: 1,600 words

Note: don’t get your hopes up with this one pookies. i quite literally pulled this out of my ass because i realized i had no one shots of spencer lol. regardless, enjoy!! i have smuttier one shots being planned at the moment heehee

The word love can be very complex. We all have an instinctual desire to love or be in love with something. Whether it be a person, an animal, or an object. It’s why we can love our families, our pets, that random character on our screens that just makes our hearts beat fast. But love can also be hard. Right person, right time. Wrong person, wrong time. Wrong person, right time. Right person, wrong time. There are multiple different ways a relationship can be. And your relationship with Spencer?

Well, it's the right person, wrong time.

Being co-workers of the same age, it wasn’t hard to get close to one another when you joined the team. The two of you became friends fairly quickly. He had given you a random fact when the two of you met and you had responded with “oh wow! i didn’t know that,” in an enthusiastic manner which had led to you and Spencer having a full-blown conversation on the plane to your first case rather than interacting much with anyone else. After that, things just flowed easily.

Days at the bureau or on the case turned into nights of spending time with one another. The two of you have gone to a Korean Film Festival together, the opening of a new bookstore, you cooked him dinner at your place occasionally, ordered takeout at his. It wasn’t hard for the two of you to grow feelings for one another when you’re constantly spending so much time together. With Spencer, you felt complete in a way you hadn’t felt complete before.

But you knew nothing could come of your feelings for him. How could they? In the end, you’re both co-workers, working a dangerous profession. The thought of ever dating Spencer terrified you due to the fear of losing him on the job or god forbid your relationship ends horribly and how that would turn out for the rest of the team. So your feelings for one another remained unspoken, there but never acknowledged.

Eventually, you tried to move on from your feelings for Spencer. You met a guy that you got along with, someone who made you feel a bit lighter. And eventually, you began dating him. But the moment the BAU found out, Spencer had given you the cold shoulder and you couldn’t figure out as to why.

Which led to where you are now, on a case in Vermont, forced to share a room with Spencer after he had been giving you the silent treatment since you told the team about your relationship earlier on in the day. The room was dead silent as you sat on the bed, going through your bag. The silence from Spencer was frustrating you, to say the least. He was most definitely much more talkative and you couldn’t figure out what was making him act so coldly towards you.

Earlier in the day, after you had told the team, the two of you had gone to a crime scene together and he only spoke to the detective that had gone with you guys, ignoring your statements and words. You glanced over at Spencer who was sitting on a chair, reading over the case file.

“Spencer,” you said his name, breaking the dead silence in the room. He didn’t answer, causing you to take a deep breath in frustration. “Giving me the silent treatment is really low of you right now.”

Spencer simply scoffed, not responding to your words. His eyes were glued to the file, though you could tell he wasn’t actually reading it.

“Listen, if you’re mad that I’m in a relationship then that’s fine. You can feel how you want to feel. But I expected you to have a lot more respect and maturity to say it to my face,” you exclaimed, grabbing your pajamas and placing your bag on the floor.

“What about the respect of telling me yourself privately?” Spencer replied back, breaking his silence. His brown eyes were on you as he bit the inside of his cheek. “I thought we were much closer that we could tell one another anything.” He stood up from the chair, walking over to you. “You want to talk about respect and maturity? You should’ve told me when it happened.”

You looked up at Spencer as he towered over you. You felt the guilt, knowing you should have talked to him about it. Because above all else, he is your best friend. However, how could you tell him when you’re also so madly in love with him? He would’ve known easily that you didn’t actually like your boyfriend as much as you may exclaim you did. “I didn’t know how to tell you,” you said softly.

“You didn’t know how or you just didn’t want to?” Spencer said with indignation, furrowing his eyebrows. He was infuriated, to say the least. Understandably so. “Because from my perspective, Y/N, it just seemed as though I wasn’t important enough for you to tell.”

“Spencer, you’re so important,” you said, standing up from the bed so you were almost at eye level with him. “God, you’re so ridiculously important to me.” You said sincerely, tilting your head as you looked up at Spencer.

“Doesn’t really feel like it,” Spencer replied, pressing his lips into a straight line and shrugging his shoulders. “If I am so important to you, you would’ve said something to me. That’s really the bottom line of it. But no, instead I had to find out alongside the rest of the team. I genuinely thought we were closer than that but clearly we weren’t.”

“But we are!” You raised your voice. “We are very close which is why I got into this relationship in the first place!”

Spencer gave you a look of confusion. “What?” He asked, furrowing his eyebrows once more.

You took a deep breath, realizing that you can’t just hide your true feelings from Spencer forever. The unspoken words between the two of you must get spoken. And there really isn’t any turning back now. Either way, your relationship with him would be screwed. “I got into this relationship because of you,” you said calmly, closing your eyes for just a moment as you gathered your thoughts. You opened them back up to look Spencer in the eye. “Because if I hadn’t, I’d be spending so much of my time pining after you, someone I cannot have.”

“Who says you can’t have me?” Was his only question, causing your heart to flutter in your chest.

“Me,” you said simply. “I am scared that if we ever crossed the line of friendship into something else, that something bad would happen. I don’t want to lose you, Spencer, I really don’t. And in our line of work, it’s more probable that we could lose one another and that thought haunts me everyday.” You took on a vulnerable tone as you spoke. You could see Spencer’s features softening as he looked at you, finally understanding what you’re saying. “So, to move on from you, I got into this relationship. It isn’t a good thing for me to do. The guy is innocent and likes me for me. But all I care about is you, Spencer.” You finished your confession with a deep sigh, closing your eyes as anxiety began to consume you, not knowing how Spencer would react to such a confession.

What you hadn’t expected was to feel Spencer cup your cheeks as he captured your lips with his own, kissing you so deeply. It took you a moment to process what was happening, the action causing you to tense up and open your eyes. But after a few moments, you relaxed into Spencer’s touch and kissed him back, closing your eyes once more.

The kiss said what was unsaid. That Spencer cared about you just as much as you did for him. It was a passionate kiss with many emotions. His lips were hungry for yours, your tongues exploring one another’s mouths. And after a few minutes, Spencer let go of your lips, keeping his forehead pressed against yours. “I care about you too,” he whispered. “All I’ve ever cared about since I met you was you,” Spencer exclaimed, moving a piece of your hair out of your face.

Soft words with soft looks, kisses upon kisses, all in which led to the both of you naked and on the hotel mattress, pawing at one another in the best sex in your lifetime. It was needy and passionate, the type that conveyed everything you guys needed to know. Nothing else mattered except you and Spencer. Spencer held you close to him, lips on yours, as he thrusted into you. He needed to feel all of you. Just as you needed to feel all of him.

And when you guys finished, laying on the bed in each other’s arms, you turned to look at Spencer. “I’m sorry,” you murmured. “I should’ve just told you my feelings rather than jumped into some dumb relationship but I was scared.”

“I’m scared too,” he murmured back, resting his head on top of yours. “But I’ve read that relationships do best when the couple works through issues together. So, any problems that occur, any fears that we have, we need to communicate them and face them together.”

“Are we a couple now?” You couldn’t help but ask.

Spencer moved his head off of yours, glancing at you with a small smile. “After you break up with that random boyfriend of yours, I will properly ask you out.”

“Sounds like a plan to me.”

[evieelyzabethh]

Imagine streamer Jayce and reader, and Viktor doing a stream where Jayce and reader read fanfics of themselves before rating them on accuracy, while Viktor is just cringing in the background and making sarcastic comments. He dies at the [insert reader’s name] x viktor fics

Jayce definitely brings up the idea. His twitch chat is already insanely horny and he doesn't do much to monitor it. The second he catches wind that there are fanfics out there about him, he is creating a tumblr account and politely asking forcing you two to join him. Viktor, who isn't even featured on the channel much grossly underestimates the number of fics out there and is appalled by his mischaracterization and the fact that he has the most about him.

Jayce would give the internet ungodly amounts of clips to make edits from, you would try and play ball with the horniness before inevitably breaking character, and Viktor slowly descends into madness the more you roleplay what you're reading. He is holding the phone in his left hand, the other wrapped around your throat as his face contorts in confusion before shouting "My leg is where?!" He accuses the author of being a delusional virgin before moving on to the next one. Like he genuinely is trying to picture the scenarios in his head but the position switching becomes too much he loses track and gets confused. You have only made it through a reenactment a handful of times, and each time he jokingly asks, "Was it as good for you as it was for me?"

Viktor needs to be strapped down to get through x reader fics. He wants to leave! He is not having it at all. It doesn't annoy him that they ignore your existence, he knows it's a wish fulfillment kinda thing, it's more so that the mischaracterization is even worse. The whole time he's like "I would not say that!" "Can I sue for defamation; I am nothing like this!" Best case scenario, he throws on his reading glasses and starts criticizing the grammar and spelling. If it becomes a regular series, he has a button that makes noises from every time someone messes up there, they're, and their.

[wheels-of-despair]

It's a Wonderful Life (Even in Hawkins) Pairing: Eddie Munson x Evil Woman Summary: What would the lives of Eddie Munson's loved ones look like if he didn't exist? Contains: A bad night for all, a violent outburst, regrets, a bitchy ghost, a peek into another life, a Christmas party, a happy ending. Words: 5k

(This is inspired by It's a Wonderful Life. There are mentions of suicide and visions of a dark world without Eddie Munson. Takes place sometime after graduation.)

Eddie Munson can't wait for the worst night of his life to be over.

He screeches to a stop in front of the garage Corroded Coffin "practices" in and leaps out of the driver's seat, ready to get the band and all their shit out of his van and out of his sight.

"Well that was fucking embarrassing," Gareth grumbles, rolling out the back doors with an armload of equipment.

"We might as well have played kazoos," Jeff adds, yanking out his guitar case.

"Never showing my face in public again," Grant whines, joining the unloading parade.

Eddie fumes and slams the back doors shut. Well, he tries. Instead of latching, they bounce and fly back at him. He gets it on the second, slightly-less-violent, try.

Corroded Coffin just opened for a band from two towns over that people actually show up for. Someone from a record label was in the building. This was supposed to be their shot at getting noticed by someone who mattered. They were supposed to rock everyone's socks off. But no. They played the worst show of their stupid little lives. Even Wayne, who hardly ever got to see them play, looked horrified at the shit-tastic show they put on.

His girl leans against the side of the van, next to the busted taillight that earned him a ticket from that asshole Callahan on the way to the show. Not even she can pretend Corroded Coffin didn't suck a fat one tonight. There's pity in her eyes, and it makes Eddie even madder. He turns and directs his rage at the band, not wanting to crack under her annoying gaze.

"See you dicks around," Eddie snaps. "Since there's no point in ever fucking practicing again."

"C'mon, man," whines Gareth.

"What about the Henderson's Christmas party?" asks Grant.

"At least we can go drown our sorrows in cocoa," Jeff sighs.

They just bombed so hard, they'll probably never be allowed to perform in the tri-county area ever again. Their careers are over before they even started. And they're worried about a shitty little Christmas party thrown by Dustin's mom?

Eddie Munson is mad at himself for being a failure. Mad at his woman for feeling sorry for him. Mad at his dumb band for sucking ass. Mad at the Hendersons for scheduling a party and being a distraction on a night this important. Mad at Wayne for not coming on one of the nights they actually sounded good. Mad at the world for giving him a sliver of hope and snatching it away just when he thought he had a chance of making it big and getting out of Hawkins Fucking Indiana.

He needs to get out of here. Right now. He turns with the intention of stomping to the driver's side door and driving off like a bat out of hell, but she's blocking his way.

"Baby, it's not the end of the world," she says calmly, putting a hand on his chest. The act breaks a barrier and unleashes his barely-contained rage. He smacks her hand away, maybe a little harder than he meant to, and her eyes widen in shock.

"What would you fucking know about it?" Eddie seethes. He can feel the blood boiling and the vein pulsating in his neck. He can't stop. The words keep coming, and Eddie closes in on her. She shrinks. "You've never had a fucking dream! You've never wanted something more than this shitty little life in this shitty little town! I'm sick of you fucking holding me back!"

"Shut the fuck up, man!" Gareth yells, stepping between them and giving Eddie a shove backwards.

"Oh, now you react to something on time?" Eddie laughs cruelly.

There's a blinding flash of pain, and Eddie's suddenly staring to the side. He slowly swivels his head back to Gareth, standing in front of him with balled fists and a red face. Eddie's jaw throbs. Did his own drummer just punch him in the face?

He attacks.

Grant and Jeff are on them in an instant, trying to get Eddie and Gareth apart. Everything becomes a blur of grunts and blows until Jeff gets Eddie's arms behind him and drags him out of the open garage door.

"Cool off, man!"

This isn't how tonight was supposed to go. He was supposed to be signing a contract and sipping spiked cocoa and eating cookies. Kissing his girl under the mistletoe and promising her a mansion in Beverly Hills. Celebrating his talent and good fortune with everyone he loves. Instead, he's standing outside a cold garage, staring at the disappointed faces of all the people he let down.

A sniffle draws his eyes to his girl. His Evil Woman. The love of his fucking life. The look in her teary eyes makes his insides turn to ice. He hit her. He yelled at her, and he fucking hit her. He takes a step closer, wanting to hug her and tell her that he didn't mean it.

She flinches.

She's scared of him.

He's just like his old man.

Eddie climbs in the van without another word. He doesn't know where he's going, but he knows he can't stay here.

He speeds and spirals and re-lives the worst night of his life over and over. It takes him several miles of squinting into the dark to realize his headlights aren't even on. When the van finally comes to a stop, he's at the quarry. He doesn't know why he came here. But by the time he turns off the ignition, he's exhausted from beating himself up.

He slides down from the driver's seat and walks to the edge of the cliff, kicking rocks as he goes. Each breath sends out so much fog, it looks like he's smoking. A smoke would be nice. That'd take the edge off. He pats his pocket for his pack and pulls it out. Empty. Of course.

He tosses the empty pack over the edge and leans over just a little bit, hoping to see it fall. The darkness swallows the little white box almost immediately. It's a long way down. The only light comes from the moon, and it reflects on the still water below like glass. It's both beautiful and unsettling.

The cold starts to seep into his bones, but he welcomes the ache. He deserves it. Eddie sits near the edge, sighing and looking up at the starry sky, wondering how the fuck his friends are ever going to forgive him for this.

Maybe they weren't really that bad. Maybe they tried their best. Maybe he put too much pressure on the younger guys. Maybe the person from the record company didn't even come. Maybe the band that they opened for sucked too, and they could all chalk this horrible evening up to bad acoustics.

Maybe Eddie hadn't just ruined all of the most important things in his life in the course of one night.

His heart hurts at the thought of what he said to his girl, whose only crime was caring about him. Holding him back? Where the fuck did that come from? It's all a little fuzzy, now that he thinks about it.

Eddie touches his swollen jaw and winces. Little Drummer Boy packs a hell of a punch.

He fucking deserves this pain.

Eddie pulls his knees to his chest and hunches over, curling into a ball near the edge of the quarry cliff.

He wishes he hadn't blown up and said those awful things to the person he loves most. He wishes he hadn't forced his friends to practice until their fingers bled. He wishes he'd never begged (and traded a considerable amount of weed) for the chance to play a three-song opener for some douchebag band from the city. He wishes he hadn't turned into a total cunt the second he saw a chance to live out his stupid teenage dream of becoming a rock star.

Hell, why stop there?

Eddie Munson wishes he'd never even been born.

"Don't even think about it, asshole," a voice rumbles from behind him.

Eddie turns, surprised that he let someone sneak up on him. A guy really lets his guard down when he's got nothing left to lose.

An ass thumps against a rock nearby and Eddie squints at the silhouette in the moonlight. That curly hair looks familiar, but he doesn't know for sure who it is until the stranger takes a drag off a cigarette and his face is illuminated by the burning cherry.

"Hargrove?"

"Knew you couldn't be as stupid as everyone said you were." Eddie can't see the smirk, but he can hear it.

"Not a good time, Hargrove," Eddie sighs. "Don't have anything on me."

"I'm not here for drugs, dumbass," Billy says, taking another drag. "I'm here to save your eternal soul or some shit."

"Sounds like you've already been into the good stuff tonight," Eddie deadpans.

"Nobody ever fuckin' believes me," Billy groans, staring upward and blowing a long stream of smoke into the air before turning his intense gaze to Eddie. "Listen up, dickhead. You fucked up, you hurt people, you wished you were never born, et cetera. I was sent here to show you the error of your ways or whatever. Let's take a little trip."

"What is this, like a Christmas Carol thing?" Eddie snorts. "What are you on, man? I want some."

Billy sighs and flicks his cigarette out over the water. He stands and stares at Eddie, his eyes glinting in the moonlight.

"Let's go, fuckface," Billy orders.

"I'm not going anywhere with your stoned ass," Eddie laughs, trying to pretend he's not a tiny bit afraid.

Billy stomps over and grabs Eddie's jacket and hauls him to his feet with surprising strength. Maybe he was right to be scared.

"Woah, calm down, Ghost of Christmas PCP," Eddie snarks, sounding braver than he feels.

"I said, let's go," Billy repeats, dragging Eddie backward. Eddie tries to dig in his heels and resist, but his sneakers slip and slide on the loose gravel.

"Where are we going?" Eddie asks, his ears beginning to ring.

A blinding flash of light makes him cover his eyes, and when he lowers his arm and opens them, he's standing in front of Wayne's trailer. The glow of a street lamp shows more of Billy's face than Eddie has seen tonight. He stares at Eddie through unblinking, half-lidded eyes. Eddie doesn't like it. Not one bit.

"Kay, thanks for bringing me home, I owe you one," Eddie mumbles, trying to side-step him and get away. Billy blocks his path.

"This isn't your home."

"Yeah, it is," Eddie argues. "Since I was eight."

"You wished you'd never been born, remember?" Billy asks pointedly. "Now you get to see what that's like."

"Isn't the first ghost supposed to be the nice one?" Eddie asks. "I thought the third one was the mean one."

"You only get one ghost," Billy says. "Only gonna need one stop, too. Made a bet that I could break you quick."

"Good fuckin' luck," Eddie scoffs.

"C'mere," Billy orders, reaching for him.

Eddie feels the urge to bolt, but before he can act on it, Billy grabs him by the collar and drags him up the steps and through the door.

Like, through the door.

"Did we just--? Did you just--? What the hell?!" Eddie splutters, looking around him for answers. The door is still closed. And then he begins to notice other things. This isn't that ugly brown carpet that's been here since the 50s, when this hunk of junk came off the lot. Those aren't the right curtains. Where are Wayne's mugs? And his hats? And his chair?

There's a small Christmas tree on a table by the window and a few wrapped gifts beneath it. There are plastic toys and wooden blocks on the new-ish rug, which is an odd green color. Photos of prettier places than Hawkins adorn the walls. Carefully arranged pillows line a yellow couch that doesn't belong here. Aside from the toys on the floor, it's neater than he's ever seen it. This isn't his house.

"What is this?" he asks, turning to Billy. "Why are we here?"

Billy nods his head toward Eddie's room, and Eddie follows his gaze to a body stepping out of it. A woman. She lingers in the doorway for a moment, then reaches in to flip the light off and close the door.

Eddie's heart drops into his stomach when he sees her face.

His one and only.

His Evil Woman.

She looks tired. The dark circles around her eyes remind him of the time they experimented with zombie makeup. Something is different with her hair. Has she lost weight? He inwardly cringes at his own question, knowing she'd give him a smack for it. But she can't read his mind. She doesn't even acknowledge his presence.

She tiptoes down the hallway and takes a left in the kitchen, pulling out stuff to make a sandwich. Four. Four sandwiches. She assembles four peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, packs them in crinkled brown lunch bags that have seen better days, then folds down the tops. There's one bread heel left. She stares at it for a moment, then wraps it up and puts it back in the bag.

She looks around, as if she can feel someone watching her. Eddie shifts uncomfortably, almost wishing she'd make eye contact and laugh because he fell for whatever sick joke this is. But she looks right through him with her dull eyes. Where's that wicked twinkle he loves so much? Why does she look so sad? What's she looking at? Eddie glances behind him. Is she waiting for someone to come in the door? Looking at the tree, maybe?

Just when Eddie thinks he can't possibly stand that blank stare for one more second, her face crumples. She sinks to the floor, grabbing a kitchen towel on the way down and holding it to her mouth to stifle her sobs. Eddie wishes he could look away and save her this indignity, but he can't. He can't take his eyes off of her.

"What happened to her?" Eddie whispers, afraid she'll hear.

"It's more of a what didn't happen to her," Billy answers somberly. "She never met you."

"Is that all you got?" Eddie scoffs, turning to his companion with annoyance. "She never met me, so she cries sometimes? Get fucked, Hargrove."

"No, asshole," Billy seethes, taking his attention from the crying girl on the floor to the metalhead at his side. "She never met you and became a social pariah, so she actually made friends with the popular kids. Became quite the party animal. Hooked up with some older guy one weekend, who happened to possess some illicit substances that needed to be distributed to the desperate students of Hawkins High. Sound familiar?"

Eddie thinks for a moment, and when he understands, his jaw drops.

"Rick?" Eddie asks. "My girl was selling for Reefer Rick?"

"She's not your girl," Billy growls. "You don't exist, remember? Anyway, she was doin' a lot more than selling for him."

"No fuckin' way," Eddie protests.

"Yes fuckin' way," Billy argues. "They were together for almost a year before she realized he was stickin' his dick in anything that would let him. By that time, it was too late."

"Too late?" Eddie asks hesitantly.

"She'd already had the baby."

Eddie feels the blood drain from his face. Wait, does he even have blood in whatever this freaky little fever dream is?

"While her classmates were dancing to Cyndi Lauper or some shit at prom, she was in the hospital having a baby," Billy continues. "She never got to graduate. Got into a real bad fight with her mom. When her dad found out that his unwed teenage daughter got knocked up by the town drug dealer, he took her mom to court and won full custody of the little brother. After the kid got shipped to his dad, her mom sold the house and went back to live closer to the rest of her family. And then when she found out Rick was fucking around, it was just her and the baby…"

Eddie tenses, sensing an "until".

"Until me."

"You?" Eddie asks with an accusatory tone.

"Me." The corner of Billy's mouth twitches, like he's remembering something nice. "I liked her in school, but she was Rick's… until she wasn't. Then I moved in. Then came the triplets. They're absolute hellions, but she loves 'em," Billy sighs. "And me. Nobody ever loved me like she did. I wish to Hell,"

Thunder booms, and Billy winces.

"I wish to Heaven," he says, looking up at the ceiling apprehensively, "that I hadn't tried to drive that night. It was hard sometimes, but we were happy, y'know? I didn't mean to leave them all alone like this."

Eddie focuses on the longing in Billy's eyes, rather than the broken woman he's staring at.

"She didn't deserve this," Billy whispers. His face hardens, and he turns to Eddie. "She didn't deserve that shit you said to her either, asshole."

Eddie feels almost as bad as he did the second those words left his mouth.

"So you're dead?" Eddie asks, desperate for something else to think about.

"Yes, I'm fucking dead," Billy rolls his eyes. "You don't exist at all in this world, and I got drunk and drove my car into a tree just before Christmas last year. What a fuckin' pair we make, huh?"

Eddie sighs and turns his attention back to the girl who's now staring blankly at the floor, silent tears still streaming down her cheeks.

"Why's she in Wayne's house?" Eddie asks suddenly.

"Thought you'd never ask," Billy says, lighting another cigarette. "Only place she could afford. Guy cut her a real good deal, after what happened to your uncle."

Billy pauses and makes Eddie ask: "What happened to my uncle?"

"He blew his brains out," Billy says matter-of-factly, pointing to the spot where Wayne's chair should be with his cigarette. "Right there."

"Bullshit."

"Why do you think a trailer this old has a new carpet and wallpaper?" Billy asks.

Eddie surveys the place. The kitchen is mostly the same; same sink, same stove, same fridge, even some of the same ancient magnets he used to play with as a kid. But the living room…

"Why?" he breathes.

"Hmmm," Billy hums, pretending to flip through the pages of an imaginary book and pointing to some imaginary answer. "It seems that dear old Uncle Wayne had a little bit of a drinking problem."

"Wayne never drank anything but beer," Eddie argues.

"Well, funny thing," Billy says, taking a drag of his cigarette and blowing his smoke in Eddie's face. "Seems he gave up hard liquor when his punk-ass nephew came to live with him. And since in this universe, he didn't have a nephew… he just kept on drinking. Even though he was already depressed, and the liquor just made it worse… and worse… until one day, he'd had enough."

"No," Eddie breathes.

"Yeah," Billy nods, not looking very sympathetic. "Wanna hear about your little sheepies at school?"

"No."

"Tough shit," Billy scoffs. "Little Drummer Boy, before he got shipped back to Daddy-O's, was in the marching band. Wedgie City, man. The big guy with the curly hair got bullied so bad, his mom decided to home-school him. He's so scared of everything, he hasn't left the house in months. Brace-Face joined the fucking Mathletes, thus ensuring him a lifetime of virginity. And the rest of those little weirdos just try to lay low and survive. Your little club that brought them all together and made them proud to be freaks? Doesn't exist. Never will. Most of 'em don't even know each other."

"Stop," Eddie says weakly.

"You want more?" Billy asks. '''Cause I can keep going. Wanna know about the worst thing your girl's ever done to make rent? Or how she'll never be able to fix the relationship with her mom? That her own brother won't bother to invite her to his wedding, when he finally finds some four-eyed geek who will have him?"

"Stop," Eddie begs.

"Maybe you want to hear about your parents? How they only had you as an attempt to save their marriage, and how they fared with another miscarriage instead? It wasn't pretty, man."

"Stop," Eddie begs.

"Wanna circle back to the uncle? And how all he ever did was work and drink and had no friends and no reason to live? About how the first time he'd smiled in years was the night he loaded that pistol?"

"Stop!" Eddie shouts.

"YOU STOP!" Billy shouts back. "You've got a good life on the other side of this shit, and you're wishing it away like a fucking loser! Oh, boo-hoo, you're not gonna be a rock star. You've got a fucking family and friends and people that love your stupid ass! You know what, I don't think you even deserve to go back. I should tell the man upstairs to make this reality the real one, and as payment for erasing your sorry ass from existence, I should get another shot at this life!"

Billy and Eddie stare at each other for a moment, both breathing hard and wondering who's going to break first. Then, the clock in the living room chimes, and Billy looks at in a panic.

"She needs you, man," Billy says quickly. "She needs you to pull your head out of your ass and think about why she's with you. Holding you back? She's the only reason you made it this far, dipshit. She's the reason you graduated, the reason you're not in jail, probably the reason you're still alive. She could've gone anywhere, done anything she wanted. But she stayed in the shittiest town on the planet, and she was happy about it, because you were there together. Never had a dream? What a crock of shit. You were her dream, asshole."

Eddie feels tears prickling at his eyes.

"Now, you get your stupid ass back to your reality and you tell that girl and those nerds how fucking sorry you are," Billy yells, his voice getting louder and barely overpowering the ringing increasing in Eddie's ears. "And you better fucking mean it!"

Eddie nods. Billy grabs the collar of his jacket and gives it a tug. The light flashes white, and Eddie hides his face in his sleeve.

"HEY!"

Eddie opens his eyes and raises his head, but the light hasn't gone out yet. He lowers his head again and hears a scrape. A shower of gravel hits his side. He looks up in surprise. The light moves.

"What are you doing out here, you little shit?"

Eddie squints and makes out a flashlight pointed to the ground… and a pair of boots… and tan pants…

"Hopper?"

"You hurt?"

"No?"

"Then why aren't you at Mrs. Henderson's Christmas party?"

"Uh…" Eddie racks his brain, trying to think of something to say that wouldn't make Hop beat his ass.

"Only a Munson would choose to freeze his balls off alone at the quarry instead of being at a Christmas party with all his friends," the chief sighs. "Get goin', kid. People are worried about you."

"Doubt it," Eddie mutters without thinking.

"Oh yeah?" Hop asks, lighting a cigarette. "Then why am I out here looking for some dumbass when I could be riding out the last of my shift at the station with Flo's fruitcake?"

Eddie doesn't know what to say to that. Someone really sent Hop looking for him? After all that?

"I'm off in thirty, and I'm coming by for the cookies Dustin promised me. If you're not in there having a good time with all your dumb little buddies, we're gonna have a problem. Got it?"

"Got it, Hop," Eddie confirms. He can't help but smile.

"Move your ass, then!" Hop orders.

Eddie scrambles away from the edge of the cliff, heading for the van.

Hop follows him down the quarry road, saying goodbye with a honk when they part ways. Eddie smiles when he sees Hopper's lights turn in his rearview mirror, almost missing the chief's company after his crazy night.

He doesn't have to feel alone for long; he can see the glow of the Henderson house from almost a mile away.

Dustin's mom loves Christmas more than anyone else Eddie's ever met. She's hosted a Christmas party for Dustin and his friends every year since they moved to Hawkins, and other moms may try to compete, but they simply can't. Claudia Henderson bakes the best cookies in the world. She decorates the house like she was trained at the North Pole. She has never once run out of hot chocolate or snacks, or let a guest leave empty-handed.

Eddie hopes his friends are having too good a time to stay mad at him.

The turnoff is easy to find. He's never seen so many lights in his life. The mailbox is covered. Every tree in their yard has a string of lights on it. The driveway is lined with lights and filled with cars Eddie knows, including Uncle Wayne's truck and Jeff's car. There's a light-up Santa on the roof. There are plastic reindeer in the yard.

And there's a black shape smoking on an otherwise well-lit carport that looks very familiar.

Eddie eases out of the van and jams his hands in his pockets, approaching the figure cautiously. His Evil Woman meets his eye but doesn't say anything. When he gets close, but not too close, he stops. He stands. He stares. She stares back. He doesn't know where to start. Begging? Groveling? Punching himself in the nuts until she tells him he can stop?

And then she offers him the lit cigarette she'd holding.

The simple gesture floods Eddie with warmth.

Overwhelming warmth.

The kind that makes a person's eyes water.

Eddie rushes forward to wrap his arms around her. He feels her shift, like maybe she's dropped the butt and stamped it out. She hugs him back, and he melts into her.

"I'm sorry," he whispers.

"I know," she whispers back.

"I didn't mean it."

"I know," she repeats.

"You're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

"I know," she says again.

"I love you."

"I know."

"You're saying 'I know' a lot," Eddie notices.

"I know."

"We should definitely have tons of sex tonight," he says, holding his breath while waiting for a response. Too soon?

"Dream on, dickweed."

He snorts and pulls back, and she looks up at him with the smallest of smiles. He'll take it. She reaches for his hands, and Eddie takes her freezing fingers in his. How long has she been out here?

"Do you still love me?" he asks, almost afraid of the answer.

She hesitates. Eddie's blood runs cold.

"Do you really think I'm holding you back?" she asks quietly.

"God, no," Eddie sighs, fighting the urge to drop to his knees and hug her around the middle while he grovels. "I don't know where the fuck that came from. You're everything to me. You're probably the only reason I'm still alive."

She considers it. Makes him squirm. Eddie bites his lip, preparing for the worst.

"The night is young, Munson."

She smirks. Eddie lets out a sigh of relief, head swimming at the comfort of a familiar threat. She reaches up to touch his swollen cheek. Did she just wipe away a tear? Fucking traitorous eyes! Eddie wipes angrily at his face, just in case.

"I'm sorry tonight didn't turn out the way you hoped," she says softly.

"It did," Eddie cuts in quickly. He doesn't want to think about that. He doesn't want to think about anything but making things right with the people he wronged. "I'm at the best Christmas party in Hawkins, with all my favorite people. If… if you think they'll let me in?"

He glances uneasily at the front door, decorated by a massive wreath with Santa's jolly face at its center.

"You think those boys, who've been playing D&D with you for years, have never witnessed an Eddie Munson Tantrum?" she teases, with that beautiful, amazing, wicked sparkle in her eyes.

Eddie's face burns with embarrassment.

"Oh!" she remembers suddenly, digging in her jacket pocket. She extracts a folded napkin and opens it to reveal a pile of cookies. Eddie's favorites.

"I snatched the last of the double chocolate chip. Apparently they're Mike's favorites too. I know he's a skinny brat and all, but damn that boy can stuff his face."

Eddie looks from the cookies to the girl, his eyes tearing up again. She did that for him? After he did that?

"C'mere," she orders, shoving the cookies back in her pocket and pulling him in for another hug. Eddie closes his eyes and buries his face in her neck, not ever wanting to imagine a world where they don't have each other.

"I love you," he croaks.

"I love you too," she responds. She squeezes him as tightly as he's squeezing her. He's never, ever letting go.

She seems to read his mind, since her hands soon find their way under his shirt. Eddie jumps out of his skin and lets out an honest-to-God squawk when those icy fingers make contact with his warm back, and she laughs at him. It's the most beautiful thing Eddie's heard all night.

Is she really like this because of him? Fun and happy and everything a person should be?

A car door slams, and both of them turn to the driveway to see Chief Hopper approaching.

"Munson, you got a taillight out."

"Yeah, I know," Eddie sighs.

The trio stands there awkwardly for a few seconds, before Hopper asks, "Wheeler eat all the cookies yet?"

"Just about," she grins. "If we hurry, we might be able to grab a few crumbs before he licks the plate."

Hopper chuckles and walks toward the front door. She takes Eddie's arm, tilts her head to Hopper, and waggles her eyebrows suggestively. Eddie shoots her a fake glare, and she laughs again before leading him inside for the party of the year.

What started out as the worst night of Eddie Munson's life ended up being one of the best. The band had softened under the influence of sugar, and did not murder him when he reappeared. Eddie spent a great evening surrounded by the people who matter most, in a place they all call home, with hundreds of cookies and gallons of cocoa. Eddie had so much fun, he didn't even groan when all the moms started singing Christmas carols at the piano.

Although he did nearly have a heart attack when Billy Hargrove, who'd been dragged to the party by his step-sister Max, tapped him on the shoulder and asked to bum a smoke.

[babybluewoso]

Drunkie II Alexia putellas x reader

They were engaged at this point. Y/N finally had herself someone to love truly, to trust. It was a huge party in the Patri’s house. All the staff members and the whole team were there to join the party.

The party was fun. Though due to that it ended with a heavy boom. Alexia was still somewhat sober having drunken two cases of beer. Though, Y/N had gone hammered after winning the drinking contest against her and another staff member of the team with a staggering 6 bottles of beer, 2 shots of vodka, and three shots of tequila.

Y/N was at her most tipsy, but it wasn't enough to make her pass out or drunkenly spin circles to do something stupid. Thankfully this was all stopped as Alexia brought Y/N back to their house.

Y/N had smelled of alcohol after she practically swam in beer because of a dare Patri made her do. Because of that her shirt and pants were dampened with beer, showing off her toned abs. Yet alexia couldn't complain, Y/N had it less. Mapi and Lucy swam in tequila.

Y/N lays on the bed drunkenly. She was muttering some phrases off.

"She's pretty." Y/N mutters.

Alexia turns her head as she grabs some of her new clothes from the wardrobe.

“Who is Y/N?" She asks before setting the clothes by her side.

"My wife." Y/N Says. She lets out a drunken laugh. "Like ... she is gorgeous. I LOVE HER!"

She lets out a chuckle rolling her eyes. "Well, she must be a lucky person to have you." She Says.

"Nah !! " Y/N slurs.

She then begins undressing her button down. Y/N's max drunk mode made it nearly impossible as she tries wiggling her shirt off. Yet Y/N manages to slap her hand off her without fail.

"Y/N!" She scolds.

“No." Y/N Says. "She'll get mad!"

She looks at them confused. "Y/N you smell like beer. Don't make this complicated, it's late night." She complains. "Who’s going to get mad anyway?"

She tries again to get her shirt off. She swat her hand away.

“Staahhhp! She's going to get angry." Y/N hisses. "And if you don't stop, I'll make her use her powers on you. My wife is La Reina."

"Y/N what?"

Y/N swats her hand away. "No, I don't love you." She say angrily.

Immediately Alexia’s chest hits with hurt. "What?"

"Only Alexia can touch me." She scold. "My wife can only do that. Stop it!"

Her faltered expression immediately lightens up. She couldn't help but let out a giggle at Y/N's behavior. No doubt Alexia’s fiancé is the stereotypical golden retriever masc. The thought itself made her smile widely. Even when Y/N was drunk she had a conscious to be loyal to her.

She then places herself right over Y/N’s body. She grabs the sides of her face firmly. "Y/N, you drunk idiot ... " She says sternly.

Y/N opens her eyes slightly. A once annoyed expression is replaced by a smile. “Hi babe.” Y/N Says with a laugh. “Thank god you’re here.”

She smiles. "You're drunk Y/L/N." She comments.

"I know." Y/N admits. She then touches her hair, circling it around her fingers. "You know you are really pretty."

"You tell me that every day."

Y/N smiles before telling it back. "Because I mean it." She say.

She lets out a happy sigh. "You know in the least can we get your shirt and pants off."

"If we do it now, I might vomit on you." Y/N slurs.

"I'm just changing your clothes babe." She Says. "You, Mapi and Lucy swam in liquor today."

"It was Patri's idea." Y/N retorts.

"I know." She Says. "And I'm gonna kill her for it." She adds under her breath.

Finally after some time she finally gets the needed clothes off. She throws them in the laundry. She was about to leave to go and grab some of Y/N’s medicine when she feels a something tugs at her.

"Ale baby ... stay!" Y/N groans.

She turns her head. "I have to go get your pills for your hangover so you don't complain all tomorrow.” She Says.

Y/N laughs. "Fuck the hangover." She mumble. "I want my wife here."

She rolls her eyes. Knowing if she fought back, it would take another hour for this to calm down. Willingly she slides right beside Y/N in bed.

Alexia let Y/N spoons her.

“Why won't you face me?” She asks.

"Because my breath smells like alcohol." Y/N murmurs quietly. She hold her hand though as their legs tangle within each other.

“Goodnight babe." She Says.

Without missing a beat Y/N reply back slurring her words heavily.

"Love you." She manages to say.

-------

thank you for reading.

[lxmelle]

The man surrounded by the theme of love…

Geto.

Gege has made several writing choices to depict Geto as someone who was handsome and loved - arguably more than any other character in the series. Maybe Gege loves him the most - not complaining at all.

More under the cut - just a few visuals I’ve collected to demonstrate this. I’m certainly not alone in noticing it and there may be others who show this much better, lol. Tag me in if you want to share!!

My post does end with a not-so brief analysis which you can skip if you wish.

Geto, despite being cursed at birth with the technique to absorb the ills of the world, the very skill that led him to fight alongside Gojo as part of the Strongest Duo - by design, each others’ counterpart in so many ways - a twist of fate led them onto opposite paths, leading to complete imbalance, one that drove him into madness.

If Geto in some ways represented Love, it is truly the most twisted curse of all which played a part in his death.

Geto witnessed the most love confessions in the whole series - I found (and stole) it off twitter/now X:

The Japanese originals seem more compelling to me:

Riko says “daisuki” whereas Yuta uses a more traditional “Aishiteru” which, is quite embarrassing of a confession, and therefore almost hints at what could be Gojo’s last words to Geto, if it directly parallels Yuta & Rika’s relationship. And that expression Geto wears when he sees Riko and Kuroi struggle with separating?

That does not look like a person who cannot sympathise and empathise with people. Geto was a person who cared too much, and in search for a way to protect those he cared for, needed an outlet and something (in this case, lesser being, the humans) to blame. He descended into a mania and much like shinobu sensui from yu yu hakusho, seemed to develop some kind of mental disorder due to being unable to carry the conflicting ideals together. The dissonance the world presented to him was just too cruel, and he himself became a weapon to defend his ideals.

Before his defection, Geto was liked by his peers:

Haibara

Mei Mei

Loved by his family for and despite his ideals:

Mimiko and Nanako

Shibuya crew liked/loved him and carried his will/beliefs even after his death, in their own ways, as family:

Miguel and Larue in the most recent chapter to date:

Translations (rough):

Larue: You and me alike, we just wanted Suguru-chan to be King.

Miguel: Yea, I followed just because it was Geto. After shibuya, I trained Okkotsu and I don’t want anything to do with the country anymore. (Something along these lines; a little too complicated for my rudimentary Japanese)

Larue: You , me, Mimiko, Nanako, Manami, Toshihisa, everyone just really liked/loved Suguru-chan.

Canonically, he was known to be handsome and popular:

Takaba

Gege’s character book:

JJK popularity poll:

I do not have screengrabs of how Manami and Larue joined, but it was said to be due to how handsome they thought he was.

Maybe he was like Rika, who did realise how she came across in her life, and manipulated people, lol. But that’s a bit of a stretch to bring that parallel/similarity in. Geto was just quite a magnetic person, according to Gege.

And in the most roundabout way:

Gojo:

“my one and only”

“Love is the most twisted curse...” “curse me a little at the end.”

“I don’t need love to satisfy me” ... “if you were there I might’ve have been satisfied”

While love surrounds Geto, the theme that follows Gojo appears to be “the strongest” cursed; he was admired, revered, feared, and disliked by many. It truly breaks my heart, to think of what he had to give up to carry the weight of this for his whole life, until the very end.

This looks like the most dizzyingly lonely picture of Gojo. It was indeed ironic to have it all but to embody what it means to have an unlimited void by being totally different.

He suffered so much for his power and to have carried this strength. The sorcerer world was practically on his shoulders. The balance was up to him; everyone relied on him. Every time he tried to protect his love (geto) it seemed to fail. It worsened each time, ending with his own demise. But of course that’s just a dramatic interpretation - I don’t really mean/believe that, but it is one way to see the tragedy between Gojo and Geto. Strength at the expense of love; it plays out with the strongest this far as those identifying with this title are plagued by loneliness and do not know love.

They met before things got twisted within themselves, between them. Even after Geto left, Gojo seemed to be looking and waiting for him - to prove his trust for him almost as if he saw through his illusions and lies. Geto was the shadow (Yin) and Gojo was the light (Yang). Only the light can see through the dark. I’ll leave the gojo characterisation for another time / to other better writers.

For now, I’ll just say that I felt that he had planned for the possibility of losing to Sukuna (with the various things we see him do between scheduling the 24th and the actual day) and if he won, he’d just carry on the plan to cremate Geto on top of saving everyone and being a good example as the strongest. Worst case scenario, he would weaken Sukuna and I guess just die on the same day as Geto - idk, maybe as a form of redemption for one of his most painful experiences in life. Who knows?

I headcanon he was relieved to pass on, doing his part to defend the world that relied on him so much, with a big bang - a really fun fight.

And I’m glad they found each other at the end - the loved and the lost.

Back to Geto:

We don’t get much insight into what Geto wanted or felt aside from a world that was better for sorcerers, those he cared about. Even at the afterlife scene, or in subsequent chapters, we only hear from others rather than Geto.

Call me biased and delusional; I believe he didn’t kill the innocent despite saying he hated them all. He loved and hurt so strongly that he hated with almost equal force. He did want to force evolution and eventually extinguish all human kind, to him: the ignorant source of suffering, but I’m glad he didn’t manage to get Rika. I headcanon that he was aware he was losing himself by defying his own principles (to kill sorcerers) for his own gain. That, and Rika with a binding vow for a life, no less, was just too powerful.

In the official character book, Geto was described as someone who told himself that he hated humans a lot, like a reminder. He didn’t kill people indiscriminately. I’m sure he was well aware of how evil he had become but he had chosen, hadn’t he? He expressed to Yuta, that self-affirmation was incredibly important in his view. And the more he interacted with the students, I think the more his humanity fought back - I mean, he was standing there crying from being so moved by what he saw. He also let Yuta heal his friends. How villainous? Or how incredibly loving in spite of himself?

Geto has been shown to lie to others too: jjk 0: described having lied to the school about the conditions for obtaining a cursed spirit, and after defecting: upon taking stage for the first time, stating that the looking the part (wearing gojokesa) was important (ie lying). At his death’s door, he also prefaces with, no matter what anyone says - why would there be a need for that if he wasn’t telling a half-truth? He sought to avenge Riko (first person at the cult he killed after calling him onto the stage + cue mic throw) and the village represented a bunch of people who he slaughtered out of rage and ignorance. I’m definitely not defending him here - his actions are reprehensible. My headcanon view is that he didn’t know how to live with himself after snapping and that was the only path laid before him, which he ardently committed to.

I just think that he held onto a form of love/humanity still- Gojo and Geto both did. Without it, Geto would’ve become the Queen of curses due to Rika (uncaring about his family, or killing young sorcerors despite witnessing the students’ bond and yuta’s selfless power of love in jjk0) and Gojo may have focused on training at all cost without embracing Geto’s principles and becoming a teacher to change the jujutsu world - he could’ve become the next Sukuna and take the title of the King of curses instead - crowning them both King and Queen - instead of both the King and Queen contributing to their deaths. Anyway, I digress...

Geto appears very mother-coded in his protective and defensive relations to the girls, but also to Riko, Kuroi, and Gojo - especially after Toji had killed them. He was so fiercely trying to avenge and defend them, but failing that had a huge effect on him. Moreover, Haibara - innocent, glowingly positive - suffered an undeserved death. It weighed so heavily on Geto, that he didn’t defend Gojo when Nanami vented about leaving things to Gojo who seemed to take it all in his stride, almost insinuating that Geto, too, had little autonomy but to carry on that cycle of curse consumption he began to loathe.

Yuki also underlined the meaninglessness of the death / sacrifice / relationship rupture / suffering. And like the novel implies: Geto was too sincere for this world. He just loved too deeply and wounds cut him too painfully. At just 17... what inner resources were they forced to develop?

He was disillusioned by the system, but respected that Gojo had a place there. This is also SatoSugu indulgent: He never once attempted to talk Gojo into joining him, despite it being the most logical choice, but Geto was the emotional and loving kind - he prioritised Gojo over his ideals / himself. This man was willing to die trying to pursue his ideals, but didn’t want to try convincing his friend even if he know it might fail. What does that say about him? I think it says he loved Gojo. And Gojo loved him.

He masked like Gojo did : the infamous “yeah I’d win” and Geto’s “I’ve made my choice” and his face fell as he had his back turned, stating that he just needed to do it to the best of his ability. This may be headcanon but it does seem plausible to me. He was under no illusions about what he had done. To love was to turn away too. To love was to let the other go. Sigh.

Backtracking a bit: When Geto encountered the twin girls, who knows what entered his mind, but there was something that emerged from being horrified, enraged, and it gave birth to new meaning. He would take control and save them - from humans and the institution that made child sorcerors die. According to Gege, he became Papa Geto. (Kenjaku is also mum-coded but the antithesis of motherly love, with the womb protrusion domain and actually bearing children.)

This is of course not limited to feminine energy, as parents, both male and female, have protective instincts. But I’m not here to go into that discourse. Just stereotypically, and loosely speaking, Geto is very Yin energy. He is a big Mama Bear. With extreme maternal aggression. We see female counterparts do this in the wild more than males. And yes, of course both male and female are protective. Both geto and gojo were protective in their own unique ways. That’s for another post. Geto would rather die than have anyone come save him. In fact, the scripture behind him in the temple goes somewhere along the lines of “death to the weak”. If he had failed, he deserved to die. His family should live.

Gojo cares for others differently. And yes we know he died whilst defending others too. He is inherently more individualistic due to what he is with his gifts and noble heritage. He is less emotional and more cerebral, the only time we saw him lose his composure was due to Geto.

He allows his students to take risks and would allow them to fight in his stead, like in jjk 0 where Toge and panda were sent to be defeated by Geto. Tough love, as Gojo admits. This is also very Dad-like in the modern sense of the word.

In my subjective experiencing of the world, it’s almost like a husband who is only really emotionally vulnerable with his wife, and is otherwise the successful businessman, dad, and whatever else he is. Geto is much like a mum that he would walk away from her husband (lol, Gojo in this case) in order to protect them in a way she deems is best. Maybe I’m a little nuts, I don’t know. (Actually I am a little eccentric, but that’s by the by).

Now this is totally just satosugu indulgent: I headcanon that Gojo also “protected” / was possessive of Geto by making a deal with Miguel since the latter said he would curse Geto if he died, lol. Especially in light of the latest chapter where Miguel said he was spared by Gojo. (And i reckon Gojo was respectful of Miguel being Geto’s family, so he spared him for that reason too). I mean, Gojo had to kill his best friend, but this was his burden to bear, you know? It’s almost sickeningly intimate to allow someone to end your suffering, and be entrusted with that too. Ugh, ouch, my heart…..

Edit: I’m reminded of that scene where Shoko reflects on loving neither of them, like Gojo, Geto didn’t want anyone to be alone anymore either. Geto said he didn’t feel happy from the bottom of his heart. Gojo felt lonely (although he said it got better at the airport scene). They weren’t alone, but probably felt it… because of the absence of their true/first love? Larue stating in the panels above that Geto wouldn’t wish for them to fight seems like a nod to what Geto believed happened between him and Gojo. Gojo raised allies - be strong, don’t be left behind. Geto a family - get along, don’t fight. Just pointing out what my take is on the parallels I’ve observed.

That ends the brief analysis portion of what I wished to convey about what appears to surround Geto. He may not have been depicted much in the series, but his presence has been felt through the eyes of many. It made me wonder why did Gege do this?

This author deliberately wrote multiple people in the verse to love and follow him (and spare him a death sentence for 10 years) despite not agreeing to his ideals.

Perhaps it isn’t Gege’s focus, understandably, to give us a lot more insight from Geto’s pov, but there is certainly some kind of narrative he is pushing to depict how this man, cruel yet kind, is somehow one of the few he seems to portray in this way more than others within the sorcerer world at the very least. That his life was somehow a tragedy that he might not have really known the love at all? I wonder what Gojo’s last words were to incite such a heartfelt reaction - well done? Welcome home? You did well? I love you? My one and only best friend? Sigh, I guess it’s a secret between them.

There are others who have written metas on Gojo and maternal energy. If I find it I’ll link it! Otherwise, search through my reblogs! So many fantastic writers and thinkers out there!

Thanks for reading if you made it this far!

[harunayuuka2060]

Neige: MC! 🌸🌸🌸

MC: ...

MC: What is it, Neige? You are quite energetic today.

Neige: We're going to have another class reunion in RSA! It will be tomorrow! Be sure to be there!

MC: ...

MC: Neige, I don't think you should be inviting me in another class reunion.

Neige: Eh? *sad frowns* Why?

MC: I was not a student of Royal Swords Academy. And I only accompanied you last time because I was a concierge and you were my client.

Neige: *pouts* But the reunion is not about being students or not! *then giggles* The others will be bringing their significant others too!

Che'nya: That's right, nya! *hugs MC from behind* *resting his chin on their shoulder*

MC: More of a reason I shouldn't come. I'm not anyone's significant other.

Che'nya: Me? :3

MC: ...

Neige: *giggles* See? So please, MC? Promise me you'll be there or else I will be mad at you. *pouts*

MC: ...

MC: *sigh* Fine. I will inform Vil that I won't be able to assist him on that day.

Neige: Yay!

Che'nya: We should wear matching clothes nya! :3

MC: I don't want to.

Che'nya: *whispers* I'm changing your wardrobe.

MC: ...

Vil: Is there really a need for you to come?

MC: I was pressured.

Vil: ...

Vil: In that case, I'll be going with you.

MC: Huh?

Vil: If Neige is inviting an outsider, then I'm guessing it's fine that I tag along.

MC: ...

Vil: I'll ask Neige myself. If he refuses, you won't go.

MC: ...

MC: Alright.

The RSA alumni: Neige~! Che'nya~!

Che'nya and Neige: Hello, guys~!

MC and Vil: ...

Vil: *mutters* They're like kids.

MC: ...

Che'nya: I thought some of you would bring your lovers today nya?

Neige: Were they unable to join us?

Classmate A: Yes. My wife is busy, but she wants me to enjoy so it's fine if I don't come home early.

Classmate B: Which I'm sure you won't do. You'll leave after 15 minutes.

Classmate A: Hey!

Classmate A: ...I'll stay for 30 minutes.

Classmate B: See?

Classmate C: Oh! And MC! It's nice to see you again!

MC: *nods* *then smiles* Likewise.

Classmate C: I heard from Neige that Che'nya didn't leave you and is currently staying at your house.

Classmate C: He's really putting up that fence, huh?

MC: ...

MC: I don't think I understand.

Vil: ...

Che'nya and Neige's classmates: *are starting to get enthusiastic with their conversation*

Classmate D: Neige! I asked you to recommend me with someone!

Classmate D: You knew I'm single! And a hottie attended our reunion last time and you didn't introduce me!

Che'nya: Nyahaha~! Like I'd even let you come close. :3

His other classmates: *laughs*

Vil: ...

Vil: *whispers to MC* I'm bored. We should take our leave.

MC: *nods* I'll tell Neige and Che'nya.

Classmate A: So, Che'nya? When are you going to introduce MC as your significant other?

Che'nya: Hmmm... *smiles* Next time! Once MC accepts I'm serious about them!

MC: !!!

Vil: ...

Neige: *chuckles* MC is blushing.

MC: ...I'm not.

Vil: ...

Vil: *stood up from his seat* My apologies, there's somewhere MC and I need to be.

RSA alumni: It's okay!

MC: Che'nya-

Che'nya: It's fine nya~. I'll see you at home~! :3

MC: ...

MC: Yes. We'll talk at home.

Vil: ...

Vil: MC, let's go.

Vil: ...

Vil: What do you feel about Che'nya?

MC: Huh?

Vil: ...

Vil: Do you think you can fall for him?

MC: ...

MC: If I'm being honest...

MC: I might have already, Vil.

Vil: ...

Vil: Huh. You're still not sure then.

MC: Yes. Even so, he's the only person who has stayed with me and openly says he likes me. *smiles to themselves*

Vil: ...

[bones4thecats]

Hi hi! I saw a post of yours saying requests were open so I hope it's alright for me to request something with platonic Twisted Wonderland x Reader (^w^)

Could I request Epel, Ace, and Deuce (separately) with a gender neutral reader who's a few years older than them and perceives them as a younger sibling? (Like, they have his back when he needs it, may tease him if he does something silly, and helps with homework etc.)

I hope this wasn't too long/an odd request lol. I hope you have a lovely day! Remember to stay hydrated and avoid shrimp posture when you spend time at a table/desk! (⁠ﾉ⁠◕⁠ヮ⁠◕⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠*⁠.⁠✧

Having An Older Sibling Figure! Reader

Characters: Epel Felmier, Ace Trappola and Deuce Spade Requester: 👪Anon A/N: I’ll name you 👪Anon and I hope you enjoy this. And I think it’s a little late on the shrimp posture thing, pretty sure it’s my body’s default position now lmao🤣 P.S: Each version of the Reader is based on a different Disney character; Epel - The Raven, Ace - Mad Hatter, and Deuce - The Caterpillar ⚠️ Trigger Warning for: Mentions of substance abuse ⚠️

••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●•

»»———————————-　 Epel Felmier 　———————————-««

🍎 As a high-ranking member in Pomefiore, you were seen as perfect. From your hair to your voice and the way you walk, many believed you to be the embodiment of what the Fairest one of All was

🍎 The only person you knew who didn’t believe that was a first-year, Epel Felmier

🍎 You were used to taking care of others because of your younger siblings, but Epel was a whole other case. Not that his stubbornness could deter your devoted spirit

🍎 Whenever he would need a break, not want but need, you would tell your housewarden that you would handle him while your large-black wings would flutter and flap to motivate the vice-houswarden to keep his hands to himself. Feathers are sensitive after all

🍎 He began to accept you when you kept getting him out of some situations with Vil, and since your record was squeaky clean with your fellow third-year, it was very easy to loosen Epel’s metaphorical leash

🍎 While he does not appreciate the teasing words you give him whenever he gets caught messing around by Vil, he would be lying if he said it wasn’t nice to know that despite his personality obviously not matching with the Pomefiore-stereotype, you were always by his side

••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●•

»»———————————-　 Ace Trappola 　———————————-««

🪅 As the most chaotic member inside of the Heartslabyul dorm, you were always seen making your current housewarden's upset. Ever since you first joined the school two years prior, you annoyed Riddle to no end

🪅 Though, when your older friend's classmate's younger brother decided to attend and got sorted into your dorm, you had to admit you wondered how much chaos you could cause with the younger Trappola boy

🪅 When you first met him, you tipped your hat off and laughed without an sense of sanity, which made Ace both nervous and interested in you

🪅 He has never seen someone as care-free as you before, especially in a dorm that was always fearful of their leader

🪅 You adore teasing him with your classic: "Why is a raven like a writing desk?" question. And whenever he answers and you admit your personal cluelessness, he gets upset, which makes you laugh

🪅 He may never admit to it, but he sees you like another older sibling. Though, he bonds with you in more chaotic ways than he could his actual biological brother, since he was far more mature than a duo of teenage college students

🪅 You had definitely saved him from Riddle's rage by pointing out an affect of your unique magic which has 'accidentally' made the housewarden's crown go running for it's money

���•●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●•

»»———————————-　 Deuce Spade　———————————-««

♠️ As his childhood was full of mishaps and trouble being caused by his oblivious-self, Deuce believed himself to be unworthy of devotion of a sibling, or anyone fairly close to him that wasn't his mother or grandmother

♠️ So, when you, a high-placing member of the Heartslabyul dorm came into his life by being found hanging around a larger-than-life mushroom, which was surrounded by many tall pieces of grass and whatnot, he was surprised at how sibling-like you treated him

♠️ When you explained why you seemed to look out for him, it made him realize he wasn't the only person with regrets...

"If I may ask, Mr/Miss. L/N. Why is it that you seem to not give up on me like others? I'm struggling to understand it myself." Deuce asked you as you laid with your back against the mushroom's cap.

"Young man, I do not tell my truth often. But, when I was a young newborn, my family ran a business that, let us say, was quite different. I began to abuse some types of material that I shouldn't have. And when I met my dear friend, Cater Diamond, I understood just how much harm it was causing me. From that day forward I pledged myself to leave my faults behind me. Now, when I see a soul as damaged as yours aiming for a good future, I cannot help but see a younger me in you. Do you understand?"

♠️ Deuce looked up at you in shock, he understood that unique magic could be hard to unlock, but hearing that you had to smoke and do all kinds of things just to gain it was horrendous to hear! But, when you compared yourself to him, his heart pounded in even more shock!

♠️ You, who is one of the strongest magic-users in the Heartslabyul dorm, and by-far one of the strongest members of the Spelldrive team, seeing yourself in him made him appreciate you being around even more. If that was even possible

♠️ Whenever you notice he needs a break, you would spell out a short quiz of riddles to wind his mind down. For someone who many describe as a smokeaholic, you really were a smart and kind person when needing to be

♠️ By the way, whenever you get angry, he most likely does. You are far less expressive with emotions than the first-year, but when someone sees you and Deuce angry, they get scared

[filmbyjy]

ARE WE REALLY ENEMIES?

PAIRING: enhypen x fem!reader

GENRE: enemies to lovers trope. angst & fluff

WARNING: a little suggestive on some parts for the hyung line. mentions of throwing up on jake’s part (no, the reader is not pregnant)

WORD COUNT: 10.2K words (because what the shit)

a/n: i wanted to write this for fun but i really also love the concept of enemies to lovers. let me know if you'd like me to turn any of these into actual full fics!

— placing this in case the read more messes up —

⭐️ LEE HEESEUNG

PAIRING: basketball star player!heeseung x manager!reader

it was tormenting to have someone constantly annoy you during class, lunch and basically the whole day. you have never wanted to choke someone alive until you entered the first year of high school.

the said person you'd like to choke alive was named lee heeseung. you swore on your life that he was actually satan in disguise out to torture you.

like any other day, you were about to settle down on your seat. only problem was that, you develop a huge trust issue before you settled down. you see, since heeseung has decided to devote his time to ruin your life...it meant he liked to pull pranks on you. well, pranks was something he'd say but you'd say it's more of a punishment in some way.

your 'favourite prank' heeseung did was the water bucket trick where he placed the bucket of water on top of the door. you went home with soaking wet hair by the way. it got you so mad that you gave heeseung the silent treatment the day after and he did not like it. he kept annoying you the whole day by trying to get your attention.

other than him being your enemy, he was also the resident hot guy or popular boy of your school. which meant, yes, there were girls constantly around him. he played basketball and had joined the school's team quickly due to his talent and height. you cursed him because he also loved to make fun of your height.

since heeseung was on the school's team, they consistently win games against other schools. it wasn't much of surprise since they also had other great players like sim jaeyun or nishimura riki for example. the team was just great from the start. you just so happen to have the 'pleasure' of being the team's assistant manager which was why...

"babe, pass the bottle of water." heeseung demands.

you rolled your eyes, "since when was i your little water boy? also would you quit calling me babe?"

"no, I won’t stop and since you became the assistant manager. now, pass me a bottle."

you grumbled and shoved a bottle into his hand before settling down on the bench. jake slides next to you and throws his arm around you.

"pretty, could you help me?" jake pouts.

"yes, sim?”

"i need a patch on my neck, it's hurting."

you sighed, "do you need a massage or something?"

"yes please." he gives his little puppy eyes.

"turn around-"

heeseung grabs jake's arm and pulls him away. jake whines. you shook your head and just went to check their training and match schedules. training went as per usual, you knew you had to stay until the boys left so you sat down on the bleachers waiting for them to come back to the hall.

"everyone here?" the coach asks. the boys looked amongst themselves.

"heeseung isn't here."

"where is our star player?"

"i think he is still in the showers."

"well, someone go get him."

"the thing is...he won't come out unless (name) drags him out."

you pointed at yourself, "me? you want me to go into the boy's shower room? what if he's naked. i am not risking that chance."

"(name), i am so sorry but since heeseung won't go out if you don't drag him...could you-" you groaned at the coach's words.

"fine, i'll go. only because everyone here needs rest and get home." you say. you entered the locker room.

"yah, lee. you better get out here now. everyone is waiting for you."

“lee heeseung?” you called out once more.

but you don’t hear any shower turned on. you could feel someone standing right behind you before arms wrapped around you. you gasp and turned back to the person.

of course, it was heeseung with that stupid (ly handsome) smirk. you rolled your eyes.

“get changed and get back to the court. everyone is waiting for you.” you were ready to walk out but heeseung tugs your wrist and pulls you back.

“let’s go out together, pretty.”

“I am not waiting for you to change. you’re only wearing a towel. do you even have underwear on under that?”

“wanna find out?” he smirks. you pushed him a little.

“no thanks. wouldn’t like to see something that has been inside someone else.” you said in disgust.

“then would you like to reset it by putting it in you?” he steps forward.

you gagged, “no thanks, lee.”

he chuckles before deciding to change his clothes. your eyes unknowingly trailed on his arms, his back, just his body in general. you caught yourself and blushed before looking away. however, heeseung knew you were blatantly staring at him. which was why he had a smirk playing on his lips as he changes.

“alright, i’m done.” he swings his arm around your shoulder. you rolled your eyes and pushed it off before walking off.

that was simply the dynamic of the both of you. however, you couldn’t lie and say you weren’t attracted to him. heeseung was an attractive guy with a shitty personality which you somehow fell in love with. you hated that you developed this stupid teen crush on heeseung.

“coach? we need to talk.” you say.

“what’s up?”

“there is going to be an issue if we play minjun in the starting line up.”

“what’s wrong?”

“he umm got into a fight.”

the coach sighs, “fine, then who could we replace him with?”

“siwoo. however, as you know…heeseung and him kinda have a hostile history.”

“right. maybe we could change up the usual tactic we use. think we should put heeseung on the bench first?”

“it’s possible but the consequences is that it may be risky. our opponents this time are really scary and only heeseung could handle them.”

“what do you think, (name)? should we take the risk?”

“I think we should.”

you wished you hadn’t mutter those words. now, heeseung was giving you those stanky eyes as you went with your day. you opened your locker to put some stuff but it was abruptly shut.

“I’ll cut to the chase. why am I benched for the first quarter of the tournament?” heeseung says.

“minjun got into a fight. we need to change the tactic, I think it’s better to let this opponent not expect the change.”

“bullshit, you know it’s best to keep the same tactic. we play the best when i’m not benched.”

you turned to face heeseung, “then would rather play with siwoo the whole time?”

“I would rather he doesn’t play at all.”

“then too bad, it’s best for you to not play in the first quarter.”

“but (name).”

“heeseung.” he stops. “please, just listen to me this once. these opponents are not just your regular playtoys that you can beat. they are higher level and I just-” you paused.

“forget it. just please listen to me. don’t complain anymore.” you say. heeseung stands there stunned as he watches you leave.

match day. it was the most extreme match that Decelis Academy had played. even jake was getting worn out. both you and your coach had decided to keep heeseung on the bench for longer. heeseung was itching to play but you knew if he went in now, he’d get hurt.

that’s right. you decided to change the whole thing because you were afraid of heeseung getting hurt. you didn’t want to admit it but you cared about him a lot more than it seems. your coach subs in people after people, none that were heeseung. it was the 3rd quarter of the game.

you were checking up on the tactics and calculated everything. finally, an idea popped into your head as you spot an opportunity. you whispered to the referee and told them to sub in heeseung. you waited until the ball was out. before that, you settled next to heeseung. he never once talked to you during the match.

“we are letting you play.” you say. heeseung turns to you.

“after the first half? you promised me after 1 quarter.” he scoffs.

“heeseung, didn’t you see nishimura get annihilated by the opponents?”

“so? we could be winning by now if I played 30 minutes ago.”

you clenched your fist, “I didn’t want you to get hurt.”

“oh really? would you care that much if I get hurt? we aren’t exactly on the best terms.”

“would you believe me if I said yes? that I care if you get hurt? because I do.” your eyes was glossy. you held back any tears that were about to fall.

“just shut the fuck up.” heeseung says before stands up and gets ready to be subbed in. you let out the breath you were holding. a tear slips out and you wiped it away.

as heeseung gets subs in, you excused yourself and left the hall. you walked over to the school’s garden and settled on the bench. you didn’t know why you even cared. why was it so hard for you to take the hint that heeseung hated you. maybe you should have just let him play.

you wiped the last tears that strayed on your cheeks and went back to the game. you had to watch and review the match. however, it was hard to watch it while heeseung played. thankfully, the match ends.

once again, Decelis Academy wins with ease with heeseung being the top scorer of the match. the whole time as the their coach debriefs, heeseung stares at you. you ignored it.

“all right, good job boys!”

“coach lets get something to eat! after all, we couldn’t have done it without you and manager (name)!” yunho says.

the coach turns to you, “would you like to have dinner with the team?”

you smiled weakly before shaking your head, “you guys go ahead. I don’t feel too well. enjoy, oh and send pictures in the groupchat.”

“aww come on, noona.” ni-ki pouts. “it wouldn’t be fun without you.”

“i’m sorry ni-ki, I wish I could go.”

“aww okay, noona. oh and thank you for helping with this!” ni-ki points to the bandaged up knee. you smiled.

“any time, your legs were bleeding. why wouldn’t I patch that up.” you grabbed your bag. “anyways, I have to leave now. see you guys.” you waved.

the boys waved back. you left the place.

“(name).” heeseung calls out. you didn’t look back. he grabs your wrist.

“let go.”

“did you really mean what you said back then?”

“why? so you can think it’s a lie again?” you turned back to him. “look, just cause we are enemies or on bad terms doesn’t mean I can forget my human morals and let you get injured. i’m the manager for a reason. I help out the coach and I make decisions. the coach is just there to advise things.”

“are you sure it’s just your morals?”

“heeseung, I don’t know what you’re going on about but can you please let me go? I want to go home.”

“do you love me, (name)?”

your heart drops to the pit of your stomach. you felt those feelings coming back to you like a waterfall. it was dumped onto you. feelings that you want to push back because it didn’t feel right.

“I don’t love you, lee.”

“you’re lying.”

“and who are you to validate my feelings? like you said, we aren’t on the best terms.”

“because I know you love me.”

you scoffed, “an utter bullshit. I don’t love you.”

“baby.”

“heeseung, just let me go. before I scream.” your voice wavered. you could feel yourself about to cry.

heeseung doesn’t let you go. instead, he presses his lips against yours. you shut your eyes and felt the hot tears rolling down your eyes. heeseung reaches up to wipe it away as he focuses on kissing you.

he pulls away. his fingers caressing your cheek softly. though no words were exchanged, the both of you knew that this was something you would have to have a serious talk about. for now, you would rather have heeseung in your arms, holding you tight.

⭐️ PARK JONGSEONG

PAIRING: CEO!jay x manager!reader / you are pretty stubborn here and jay is an ass here.

you remembered that cursed smirk. the way he carried himself around as he gloats at the fact that he gets better scores than you. it didn’t help the fact that years later, you’d be working under him.

he constantly made your life harder. other employees may praise him but you cursed him.

“ah, CEO park? oh he is sooooo handsome! he even gave me flowers for Valentine’s Day!”

“oh! you’re right! he gave all the lady staff flowers. roses to be exact. he is such a romantic guy!”

you could gag every time they praised him. you didn’t even get a single rose from him. you got some flower called heliotrope.

‘heliotrope: eternal love, devotion’ what joke was he pulling? was he making fun of you for being single? for being a virgin?

you slammed the bouquet down into the trash can startling the two ladies who were talking. you turned to them with a fake smile.

“it’s work hours, don’t you think you should be focusing on your work?” you threw daggers through your eyes at them. they gulped and nodded before focusing on their work. you sighed.

you felt a tap on your shoulder and so you turned to the person.

“what’s with the frown on Valentine’s Day? did jay not give you head or something?” jake teases. you grit your teeth and hit him. jake winces and pouts.

“could hand this to jay?” you gave jake a resignation letter.

“well, jay is kinda busy with-” you grabbed jake’s collar and the boy gasps.

“I don’t care, this letter better reach him. I am fucking done with his antics. i am going to grow white hair if i continue working here and it doesn’t help that he keeps making my job extra hard.”

jake nods and you let his collar go, “you may leave.” jake runs away. you groaned and massaged your temple. later on in the evening, jake hands you back the same letter.

“where is he, now?”

“in his office but wait-”

you got up from your seat and went straight to his office. you burst into his room and were caught off guard by how jay quite literally has a girl on his lap and they were making out.

“well well well, seems like this is what you’ve been doing during work hours.” you folded your arms.

jay rolls his eyes and pecks the girl’s cheek before whispering something to her. she gets up and walks out, not forgetting to give you stank eye. you rolled your eyes.

“why are you here? can’t you see I was busy? or did you come here to do some unsolicited activities too.” jay smirks.

“with you? in your dreams, park.”

jake runs in, “jay, i’m so sorry.” jay waves jake off. the boy pouts and leaves.

“why are you here then?”

you threw the letter at him, “I gave you this letter but jake came back with it.”

“I don’t approve of you leaving.”

“what kind of person doesn’t allow some who wants to resign leave?”

“you have no reason leave. hence, I didn’t approve it.”

“you don’t make any sense. I have every right to leave, you are the reason.”

“and I am the CEO, I can disapprove of you resigning. besides, shouldn’t you be happy I gave you the manager position?”

“I didn’t want to just be promoted unfairly. you manipulated this.”

“I didn’t, I think you quite fit the manager position.”

“sure, think however you’d like but I am resigning from this job.” you left his office and went back to your own.

you grabbed a box and threw your things in. jay walks in.

“(name). what are you doing?”

“packing because I said I would resign.”

“I already told you that I am not letting you leave.”

you slammed the box, “look here fuckboy. if I said I would leave, i will. moreover, I am done with you. you’ve tormented me since high school, you’ve bullied me through college. do you know how much I hated to hear my own mother comparing me to you?”

jay keeps quiet. you grabbed the flowers and pushed it back to him.

“keep this and give this to that girl you’ve been making out with. i don’t know what you were thinking for mocking my non-existent love life and that i’m a virgin but it’s not funny.”

“I wasn’t mocking you for being a virgin.” jay says.

“oh really? giving me a heliotrope? when it means eternal love and devotion. why would you give that to me when you don’t like me? oh and even if you did, why would you kiss another girl? what kind of sicko does that?”

“(name).”

“just fuck off.” you say. jay keeps his mouth shut and leaves your office. you sat back on your chair and choked up. that was a lot that you dumped on him but it was the truth. you had enough of everything and you wanted to just leave in peace.

once you were done, you carried the boxes out. everyone quietly watches you. you placed the boxes into your car trunk. you noticed jay walked towards you.

"what else do you want-" you gasp when he throws you over his shoulder. "yah! what are you doing! put me down!"

jay does not put you down, rather he carries you back into the building. you smacked his back a bunch of times and flailed in his arms. everyone was staring at the both of you but it wasn't a surprise, this sort of thing happened occasionally. everyone knew you and jay had some sort of hatred for each other.

jay only ever puts you down once he arrives at his office (which was a distance from the entrance of the huge building). once he places you down, he traps you in between his desk and himself. you fold your arms.

"you're really stubborn, huh?" you spat out. jay smirks.

"baby, you really think i'd give up on you?"

you rolled your eyes, "mr.park, it's work hours. what you're doing is workplace harassment."

he snickers before leaning more forward. you could feel your heartbeat quicken. jay lightly places pecks on your neck.

"really? it's not exactly one if you aren't moving away from it." you moved away from it a little since he pecked somewhere ticklish. you stared right into his eyes.

"don't leave." jay says.

"why? haven't you already had your fun with me all throughout high school and college?"

"(name), that's not what i meant. i don't want you to leave not to hurt you even more. i don't want you to leave because i need you."

"what? your last mission before i leave is to take my virginity?"

jay sighs, "no. that's not what i meant too. i like you, alright?"

"then why go makeout with a girl when you like me?" you fold your arms.

"because i'm stupid, alright?"

"great to know that you think so too." you watched his eyes turn dark.

"you're a brat, do you know that?" jay says.

"you pushed me to be like this. i'm force to defend myself every time you speak to me."

jay grumbles, "well i confessed to you. do you like me?"

"well, i can't possibly like someone who has tortured me for the past years." jay huffs. "but i wouldn't lie and said you've made my heart leap a couple of times."

"so...?"

"i do like you too. that was just sarcasm."

jay pulls you into a hug, his arms tight on your waist. you felt your heart race quicker.

“I’ll make it up to you. I promise.” he whispers.

⭐️ SIM JAEYUN

PAIRING: academic rival! jake

studies was everything to you. it was a validation to get your parents to even stare at you in the face. you see, your parents never cared about you. they only cared about the red marks that displayed the total marks and the leaderboard amongst the whole cohort.

you were doing well until a certain brown haired boy came into the picture. everything was daises and glitter, all according to normal but it all quickly disappeared when everyone was in awe by the new student. the new student was like a new shiny object that people loved to stare at.

there was no denying the boy was blessed with good looks but his attitude. god, you have never wanted to strangle someone to death more than ever. jake sim, the epitome of every male lead rom-com. too bad, he wasn’t the main lead in your little drama, rather the villain in your chapter.

— “eeeekkkk jake sim is sooooo cute!!! did you see his latest Instagram with his dog?”

layla. everyone knew about his dog, he loved boasting about his puppy. you must admit though, she is an adorable puppy. her owner however…you’d kill him if you could.

“what’s so special about him?” you questioned.

“that i’m better than you.”

that annoying buzzing voice

you rolled your eyes before turning to face the boy. “god, do you ever just have some humbleness in you?”

“aww that wouldn’t be fun if I was humble with my academics.” jake pouts

“it would be for me so I don’t need to hear your annoying ass voice.” you growled. jake laughs.

“cutie, you try too hard. maybe you should get laid or something. I wouldn’t be opposed to help of course.” you shoved him.

“in your dreams, sim.” jake chuckles.

“would love if you were in my dreams, cutie.” he winks. you gagged.

typical morning. it was the usual and students definitely knew of the rivalry.

— “they’d probably make a cute couple.”

— “I’d say they are probably fucking behind the scenes. I mean, smart people need to blow out the stress weighted on them. right? what better way than to help each other!”

— “I heard jake had a crush on (name) but due to the rivalry, he keeps it hidden!”

complete utter bullshit when you heard the last comment. there was no way, the devil’s son would find you attractive in any way. he literally goes out his way to annoy you. it kept you up at night to even imagine his-

stupidly handsome face…

his stupid handsome, sexy ass, nice body-

no. keep it together. he is your rival. he is your enemy. he annoys the fuck out of you and you hate it. you hate him. there was no way you like him….

and then came the 2nd devil reincarnated into a form of the most beautiful girl. her name was…

“hi, my name is ji-ah.” she says as she holds out a hand. you skeptically shake it because why in the world would a pretty girl like her want to be your friend. there must be a reason.

the said reason: sim jaeyun

yup, the only reason why ji-ah became your ‘friend’ was to get with jake. it’s not like you were jealous.

“you’re funny jake!” she smacks his arm. jake blushes and bashfully smiles.

you could feel the blood raging in you. now what was this feeling? surely, you weren’t jealous. it was impossible.

but alas, jake sim made the impossible, possible. you had feelings for jake. it took you a singular day to figure out. props to you being the smartest student, I guess? however, with jake being entertained by the pretty girl. you couldn’t do much.

so you stopped reciprocate his small little teases. you don’t roll your eyes anymore and instead choose to walk away or ignore him. at first, it made jake stunned but he soon learnt to shrug it off and went about his day. his day being filled with ji-ah. which meant, it wasn’t a surprise to hear they started dating.

however, your heart aches. you want the old jake back, the one who would tease you and flirt with you. now, he doesn’t even talk to you. you were sad. exams made your feelings 10 times worse. you felt your body wanting to shut down on you as you continued to study late at night.

you woke up to find yourself on your study table, the lamp still turned on and you were laying on the math paper you were working on. you felt horrible. it was like you got ran over by a truck or something. you still went to school though. only this time instead of looking so enthusiastic, you had covered yourself with a hood.

during break time, you didn’t feel like eating so you laid your head on the desk and fell asleep. the next time you woke up, the teacher had knocked on your desk. you apologised and asked to go to the bathroom. however, you couldn’t make it to the bathroom when suddenly, your legs gave up on you. you fell to the ground and blacked out.

when you woke up again, you realised you were in the school’s infirmary. you sat up but felt like the room was spinning so you laid back down. the curtain pulls back and jake appears.

“you’re awake.” he says.

“why are you here.” the tone sounding a little too harsh and you nearly winced at it.

“I brought you here because you fainted.”

“you have no reason to stay here.”

“I have every reason to stay here.”

“you have a girlfriend. you should go to her.”

“we broke up.”

“I don’t care.” you say. you try to sit up again but couldn’t because you felt like throwing up.

“have this, I know you have not eaten yet.”

“how do you know?”

“because i saw you sleeping. you didn’t have lunch.”

“was that before or after you broke up.”

“I thought you said you didn’t care?” he teases. you don’t even have the energy to roll your eyes. your lips felt numb, you must look horrible. “let’s get you home.”

“no. it’s fine, i need to study. let’s get back to class.”

“you’re sick.”

“and? that doesn’t stop me from getting higher marks then you.”

“your health is more important.”

“my life depends on my grades so let me get back to class.” you tried to stand up once again but jake doesn’t let you.

“I don’t care if you get higher marks then me. I just want you to be healthy.” jake says.

“and why do you care?”

“because I like you.”

it went completely silent. not a single sound except for the ringing at your ears.

“you what?” that’s before you hurled into a bucket nearby. jake pats your back trying to soothe you as you threw up. he hands you a tissue so you could wipe your mouth. he then hands you a juice box so you could have some energy.

“I like you a lot.”

“but don’t you hate me?”

“hate you? I could never.” jake says.

“then why do always attempt to ruin me? why do you go through the troubles of making my life miserable?”

“are grades that really important to you?”

you sighed, “not exactly but my parents they-”

“only care about your grades? (name), my parents are exactly like that.”

“so?”

“why don’t we date and rebel against our parents together? it’s best thing we could do. they can’t control our lives and what we want.”

“jake…”

he leans in and you covered your lips, “yah, I threw up. what are you trying to do?”

he smirks, “did you think I was going to kiss you or something?” you smacked him.

“shut up.” he notices the tips of your ears turning red and smiles.

“how about I take you home and take care of you, hmm?”

“but my mom is home.”

“oh so you’re not opposing of me taking care of you?”

“jake, I swear to god.”

“come on now, baby. I gotta nurse my girlfriend back to health!!”

he picks you up and you wanted to disappear from the plane of the earth but I guess at least you got jake.

⭐️ PARK SUNGHOON

PAIRING: childhood enemy! sunghoon / roommates au! / one-sided hatred

i'm sure everyone had their fair share of people they hated for no reason when they were younger. however, this wasn't the case for you. you had a reason to hate park sunghoon. he was the worst. what exactly was the reason for you to hate the boy? he ruined your favourite barbie doll. moreover, that barbie doll was the one your late mother gave you before she passed on due to a mystery illness.

you vowed to never chat with him. you prayed to never see him when you started middle school.

alas, the universe cursed you and you saw park sunghoon every grade you moved onto. you remembered the stupid glasses that adorned his face. the annoying laugh that would surround the hallway as he laughed with his friends. after graduating from middle school, you prayed once again to never want to see sunghoon.

it didn't work as you know. you saw him again. you suffered through his teasing for many more years in high school. then college came. as what you knew, sunghoon was going to choose a different college from you and you were happy.

but why was he standing in the same living room as you?

"what the fuck are you doing here?" you say. a smirk slowly adorns his face.

"well, well. fancy seeing you, princess." sunghoon smirks.

since you didn't see sunghoon at the last day of high school graduation, you had not seen him for months. it was a surprise to you to see the boy had changed...a lot. he was a complete heartthrob but that didn't mean you'd fall for him.

you rolled your eyes, "why are you here? i thought you wanted to go to some sports college with your ice skating girlfriend?"

"high school sweethearts don't always last. besides, i planned to make a better and stable living. ice skating isn't a guaranteed success. once i reach 30, i'll be thrown to the side anyways. they only focus on younger talents."

you were staring at him as if he was insane. when did he get so matured? it's only been like 5 months since high school ended. how could he change that much?

"i don't know what happened to you fooling around but i'm sure you'll easily find a girlfriend here. they'll definitely like the little passionate talk you gave me just now." you grabbed the box on the floor. "guess we are roommates. don't talk to me and just pretend i'm not here."

you left and went to the empty bedroom. there were 2 other bedrooms which meant there were probably two other housemates/roommates living in the same dorm. it didn't surprise you to see another guy and girl show up. from what you heard, sunghoon and the guy knew each other. guess they warmed up during the orientation that you didn't go to.

"hi, i'm byeol." she holds out her hand. you smiled and shook it.

"i'm (name)."

"oh, i heard. sunghoon said that you and him knew each other back then. he said something about being high school lovers?" you pinched the bridge of your nose at her words and sighed.

"sunghoon is wrong. we-" you paused. did sunghoon even hate you? it felt really one-sided. whatever. "we hate each other."

"really? cause it seems like sunghoon looked really happy to talk about you."

"gross. me and sunghoon could never be a couple."

“oh really? that’s great…”

“great?” you tilt your head.

“I think I might start crushing on sunghoon. he is so good looking.” byeol shyly says.

“that’s good for you.” you say. however, you can’t help but sense something off. it felt…weird. you just brushed it off though.

“think you could help me? you know him the best since you’ve known him for so long.”

“uhh sure? but like I said, me and him are enemies-”

“yeah but you’ve known him for soooo long surely you’d realise little things right?” byeol pouts.

“well no-”

“great! you’ll help me. thank you!!” byeol skips to her bedroom afterwards.

god, she’s insane…

and she truly was. when she first moved in, you thought that maybe…just maybe you’d have a friend that didn’t fall in love with sunghoon but unfortunately, luck was never on your side. to make matters worse, byeol always tries to play the cutesy card. using aeygo at any given chance with sunghoon. you were surprised he even put up with her. maybe he likes her…

*snap* *snap* “earth to (name). hey, we need to continue with the project.” jake says.

“fuck, i’m sorry.”

“i’m thankful that we are roommates. it’s so much better since we can just stay in the living room and do our work till late at night.”

“me too.”

you hear byeol’s giggling and your eyes went to where the sound came from. byeol’s bedroom was wide open and her lights were off but you could see a slip of light under sunghoon’s door. she was in sunghoon’s room, you couldn’t help but frown at it.

“are you okay?”

“yeah, sorry. let’s continue.”

“do you like sunghoon?”

“no. I don’t.” you continued to draw out what was needed for the project.

“you know…byeol and sunghoon have been hooking up.” you paused after hearing jake.

“why should I care.”

“because I know you like him.”

“jake, I don’t like him.”

“stop lying to yourself.”

“i’m not.” jake sighs and grabs the pen that you were gripping. he places it down on the table and holds your hands.

“look at me in the eyes and tell me you hate him.” you looked at jake but no words were coming out. your lips quiver and your head drops down. jake hugs you.

“I like him.” you whisper.

after that interaction with jake that night, you started to avoid sunghoon. I mean you were already avoiding him since you ‘hated’ him but you completely avoided him even more. you never stepped foot where he did and it’s like you disappeared in sunghoon’s sight.

you locked yourself in your room if sunghoon was home and you never came out.

“congrats on the ‘A’ partner.” jake nudges you. you smiled.

“you too partner.”

“wanna go out for dinner to celebrate-”

“(name).” you froze when you heard that voice. you felt your fight or flight mode kick in and you instantly wanted to get out of there. as you stepped once, sunghoon grabs your wrist and pulls you away from jake.

sunghoon brings you over to a secluded spot. he folds his arms and his jaw clenched. you were honestly kinda scared.

“why are you avoiding me?”

“why do you care?”

“I was worried.”

“and why should you be worried? you have a girlfriend to tend to.”

“what girlfriend?”

“ah right, sorry I meant your little hook up toy.” you fold your arms.

sunghoon pinches the bridge of his nose, “me and byeol never did it.”

“jake told me you guys have been hooking up.”

it went silent after you said it. “so it’s true.”

“(name), is not true.” sunghoon says.

you couldn’t trust him. not when he has constantly ruined your life. you bit your lips to hold back yourself from crying. however, once you blink, a tear escapes. you quickly wiped it away.

“I have to go.” you left sunghoon. sunghoon watches your figure leave. he wanted to run to you but his foot remains on the ground.

back at the house, you threw yourself on onto your bed and cried. you cried for hours and hours, the tears didn’t stop and you didn’t know why. was this what it felt like to be heartbroken? your heart hurts like it was actually torn apart.

there were knocks at your bedroom door but you ignored it. it stops after a while and somehow, you fell asleep. your body was tired, giving up on you after hours of crying. the next morning, light peaks through your curtains and shines down on you. you tried getting up but you felt lethargic. you felt like you were on fire. you got up and you had stumbled out of your bedroom.

you looked around for your medicine that you had. however, before you could even get to the kitchen, your body shuts down. you fell to the ground. the next time you wake up, you realised you were not in your bedroom but you were still in the dorm. you looked around and realised a familiar pair of ice skating shoes in display. the medals and trophies that were displayed on the shelf.

“I still remember when you attempted to throw your silver medal at me.” sunghoon says. your head turns to meet the boy’s figure. he was leaning at the doorframe.

“why am I here?”

“you fainted. you’re also running down fever.” he checks on your temperature by kissing your forehead. you felt your cheeks heating up. “yeah, it’s still pretty bad.”

his eyes met with yours. you swore his eyes flickered onto your lips for a split second. you pushed him away.

“thanks for taking care of me while I was out cold but I can take care of myself now. I don’t need your help.” you tried getting up but sunghoon sighs and grabs your wrist.

“me and byeol didn’t hook up. jake just told you that because he assumed we did.” sunghoon says.

“why are you telling me this?”

“because.” you felt his arms wrap around your waist and his head placed on your shoulder. “I know someone cried yesterday.”

you tried to pry his hands that wrapped around you but failed since he was strong.

“I didn’t know you liked me (name).” sunghoon says. you rolled your eyes.

“I don’t like you.”

“but you were jealous.”

“who said I was jealous. you can hook up with that bitch.”

“hmm but the only one I want is you.” you felt butterflies erupt.

“didn’t you say i’m sick? shouldn’t you be 1 arm away from me?”

“I don’t mind getting sick if I get to hug you like this.”

“god, who knew you’d be such a simp.” you rolled your eyes.

“for you.” he says. you giggled when he snuggles his head at the crook of your neck. “want to cuddle my girl.”

“but i’m not your girl though?” you teased. sunghoon picks you up and places you down on his bed. he quickly wraps his arm around you to cuddle.

“mmm but you are my girl.”

“I never said about being your girlfriend though.” he pecks your lips and you gasp.

“will you be my girlfriend?”

“what if I said no?”

“I know you wouldn’t say no.”

“you’re so full of yourself.” you chuckled. sunghoon pecks your cheek once more. surprisingly, you fell asleep really quickly. guess you were tired and maybe sunghoon’s warmth made you feel comfortable.

⭐️ KIM SUNOO

GENRE: vice president of student council! sunoo + president of student council! reader

if you were to recall back the day you were elected as the president of the student council…you could remember the scowl that was plastered on your vice-president. you could also faintly remember the complaints he let out to his friends when the results were out.

“if I didn’t get the position of president, they should’ve just kicked me out as a whole. who even wants to work with (name). she’s sooooo annoying.”

you grimaced. you understood sunoo hated you but damn he really despised you. to the complete point where he didn’t even want to work with you. too bad though, they made sunoo the vice-president and he was forced to work with you.

lately, the whole council has been busy with the school’s music festival. since your school was a music/performing arts school, this event was the most important event ever. there would be tons of students performing and showing off their skills (those who signed up only).

both you and sunoo had practically been overworked trying to plan the event. how it would go, the lighting, getting the stage ready, etc. you couldn’t even get enough sleep since the teachers would be up your ass for the forms and paperwork. who knew being president would be so hard?

“jungwon, please help me get a signature of approval from Mrs.Jae.”

“on it.” jungwon runs out of the room with the papers. just as jungwon leaves, sunoo enters. he places his bag down on the couch.

“why are you here so early?”

“we need to finish up the remaining paperwork and it’s better we start early.”

“then why didn’t you tell me?

“because you mentioned that this class is important so you need to be there the whole time?”

“I never mentioned that.” sunoo rolls his eyes.

you slammed the pen down and it startled sunoo.

“you can do everything yourself, (name). I have an important class to attend and my grades depend on this lesson. the teacher is going through some exam tips.” you mocked sunoo.

he folds his arm, “you don’t even have proof.”

“look sunoo, how about you take this set of paperwork and do it. I have no time to argue with you.” you grabbed the other half of papers and left the office.

“god, she’s so grumpy.” sunoo grumbles.

you sat in the library for some peace and quiet. it was the perfect place for you to concentrate and you were so happy you were far from sunoo. the air-conditioning blew perfectly and it was nice. it made you sleepy. what if you just…lay your head down on the table for a while.

the next time you woke up, you realised a jacket was wrapped around you. who had placed this. however, you were more worried about the stack of papers that you were tasked to go through. it was gone. you panicked for a second until you noticed the note stuck on your phone.

‘took your other half and did it. once it’s done, I’ll place it on your desk. also you look like an idiot drooling whilst sleeping.’

– sunoo

you huffed. if he was just going to do everything why didn’t he just say so. instead, he made you think he didn’t want to do it. this meant one thing though, this jacket was definitely sunoo’s. you could quickly tell too since there was a whiff of the strawberry lipbalm he uses.

wait how did you know how his lipbalm smells like? you shook your head. no, it’s just because there are times where you and sunoo were close enough while working on some student council work. it’s not because you’ve thought of kissing him. you would be insane to think so.

the next day, you hand sunoo the jacket right as he was talking to his friends.

“here. your jacket, thank you for lending it to me.” you say. this causes his friends to glance in shock at the both of you.

“are you two-” “no. we aren’t.” sunoo quickly shuts down jake’s words.

“we have a meeting later. see you and jungwon later.” you quickly say before leaving. right as you step away, you felt your heart beating fast. what is wrong with you?

it’s nothing. you walked to school quickly. speed walk, power walked to school. which was why your heart is racing.

that’s when you were wrong.

it took you probably 2 hours later to realise, no random person’s heart would race after talking to a guy. a guy they hated as a matter fact. which only meant.

you liked sunoo.

you liked his stupid annoying voice. you liked the fact that he argues with you. you mostly definitely loved the fact that he is the only one who pays attention to you. why did you have to discover this right before the meeting. now you can’t face kim sunoo without imagining his lips on yours.

it was an x-rated thought. why did you have to think about him kissing you and why do you kinda like imagining it. you must be insane.

however, here you are in the meeting with the other council members. they were showing off PowerPoint slides and presenting the flow of the event however you weren’t even paying attention.

“pres, is this okay?” jungwon asks. you hummed a little confused.

“oh, i’m so sorry. yeah, it’s fine. we should also have some of our members be on standby to queue the next group to perform.”

jungwon nods, “I’ll ask haneul if she can be the backstage coordinator.”

“sunoo, do you have anything to add?” you asked.

“no, everything has been well planned. we just need to execute it on that day. hopefully, the event will turn out as successful as the ones our seniors had done.”

“alright, that’s all. great job everyone, see all of you at the festival and please wear something appropriate. you saw what happened to our seniors.” you warned the others. they nod.

each one of them slowly leaves the room and the only ones left were you and sunoo. you had pushed back the chair and made sure everything had been cleaned up.

“are you joining the festival?” sunoo suddenly voices out.

“hmm? oh, no. I can’t sing.”

“but you can dance?”

“i’m too shy to get on stage. I have stage fright.”

“but you dance.”

“it’s just a hobby I do.”

“yeah but you joined a performing arts school.” sunoo says.

“well, that’s pretty obvious huh? can’t I have stage fright even if I am in a performing arts school?” you glared at sunoo. sunoo rolls his eyes.

“I thought I could have a once in a lifetime civil talk with you but you make it impossible to hold a conversation with you.” sunoo says. you gasp.

“the only annoying ass person that can’t hold a conversation is you!”

sunoo glares at you before huffing and leaving the room. once he leaves the room, you let out a sigh of relief. your heart was racing quicker than usual and you hated that sunoo was the cause of it.

the day of the music festival arrived. tons of students were running around trying to play the carnival games that were organised. there were also some redeeming prizes after the amount of tickets they gathered. you sighed, you would love to have fun but you were the council president. you had to watch over everything so nothing goes wrong.

today, you didn’t feel exactly the best. after studying so much for the past few days, you felt under the weather. however, since you were the president, you had to be present. you held onto the wall beside you and steadied yourself. you had to be strong, you couldn’t show your weak side. however, you nearly fell but someone holds onto your shoulder to prevent you from falling.

“hey, are you okay?” it was sunoo.

“yeah. I’m fine.” sunoo places his hand on your forehead and sighs.

“you’re burning up.” he grabs your hand and drags you to the nurse’s office.

“i’m fine.” you say as you arrived at the nurse’s office. unfortunately, the nurse wasn’t around as she went out for lunch but sunoo knew what to take.

“you look pale and you were about to faint. god, did you even eat lunch yet?”

“no I skipped lunch-”

“to do administrative? prioritise your health first, dummy.” sunoo huffs. he hands you a bottle of water and also a protein bar.

“eat this then take the medicine. it’s not good to eat your medicine on an empty stomach.”

“but i’m fine!”

“no you’re not!”

“sunoo, listen I don’t know why you care about me but I-”

“I care because I like you!” sunoo shouts.

dead silence

it’s like you could only hear both yours and sunoo’s breathing only. you were shocked, sunoo liked you? how was that possible? he hated you? what happened to being enemies? i mean, you weren’t complaining since you liked him too.

“the thought of you getting hurt, it also pains me too. you know. I get that you want to study and do well in your studies but please don’t hurt yourself in the process.” sunoo begs.

“sunoo.”

“like come on, you’re already smart. I don’t get why you have to study so late at night. it’s already annoying to see you do so well that I can’t possibly catch up with my crush but damn-”

“sunoo!”

he stops blabbering, “thank you for caring about me and thank you for liking me. I just, didn’t expect you to like me too.”

“you…like me?” sunoo’s eyes widened.

“yes. well, I would’ve said it slightly earlier but you were rambling-”

the boy cuts you off with a peck to your cheek. it catches you off guard.

let’s just say you left the nurse’s office with a boyfriend. people were definitely shocked to see their president and vice-president holding hands and smiling at each other.

⭐️ YANG JUNGWON

PAIRING: class president! jungwon x bad girl! reader. more of a one-sided enemies.

you were I would say a bad student. both in academically and in physical terms. jungwon was the opposite of you. he was the bright star student that constantly gets praised, was appointed class president of your class and was also really kind.

well to others. not to you. you have no idea why yang jungwon hated your guts. maybe, he just hated bad looking people. you’d say he’s uptight and would always turn down party invitations to study.

however, that thought changed when you saw yang jungwon in a loose fitting clothes and sweatpants. it was a comfortable choice but made him look stunning nonetheless. his bangs were down, he laughed with his friends whilst taking a sip of his…is that wine? you didn’t expect him to even be drinking.

clearly, you stared for too long because soon jungwon’s gaze falls onto you. you looked away and simply went about your merry way. however, jungwon didnt stop staring.

“who are you staring at?” jay asks. jake’s eyes trailed jungwon’s gaze and he realised that jungwon was staring at you.

“I thought you hated her? why are you staring at her?”

sunghoon suddenly smirks, “oh? does little wonie have a crush?” jungwon rolls his eyes.

“as if. she’s literally the worst girl I’ve ever seen and had to deal with.” jungwon rolls his eyes.

“and yet she piqued your interest, didn’t she?” sunghoon nudges jungwon.

it was true. though you were a ‘bad girl’ a complete opposite of jungwon. you still piqued his interests and he wanted to observe you. from far of course. or maybe, up close too.

the next day, you walked into class late. the teacher scolds you the whole while you walked to your seat. you’ve practically tuned it out, already used to the yelling in your life.

“detention!” the teacher finally says. you sighed. yet another detention, of course.

“and I will have jungwon tutor you since you are lagging behind class!”

your eyes widened. that flower boy was tutoring you? him? he was literally a bunch of rainbows and flowers every time. after the teacher says so, you turned to look at jungwon. he was already staring at you. great, he already hated the idea of tutoring you. his little cat eyes just slowly turning into a glare as his eyebrows furrow.

yay! you were so excited to have him tutor you (read: sarcasm). I mean, you knew he isn’t evil, he just probably hates you because you’re always in the detention and you are like the worst student possible. however, it’s not like you offended him in any way. the tutor session should be fine!

that was you 4 hours before actually starting the tutor session. you have never felt so intimidated by your class president but why was he so scary while teaching you.

“if x equals to 6 what is y?” jungwon raises eyebrow at you.

“u-uh 15?” you squeak out. it made you sound so weak which is weird because normally you’d be the one who was confident.

“wrong. it’s 24. you got the question wrong once again.”

“right. uh, how you…do this question again?” you asked. jungwon groans.

“I’ve gone through this question 5 times already. how do you not get it.”

“well, if math wasn’t so hard. I would get it.” you groaned.

“well, too bad. suck it up and learn how to do it.” he rolls his eyes.

“why the fuck do you hate me so much? I did nothing wrong? i’m just being myself.” you whisper yelled because you were in the library.

“because you’re annoying.” jungwon says.

“what? I never interact with you in class at all. how am I annoying?”

“every single time you’re late, I have to report to the teacher and it’s tiring to write down everything.”

“sounds like a you problem. you could’ve said no to being our class president.”

“and not be lucky to get leadership points?”

you rolled your eyes, “well, if you don’t like me. you could’ve not come to teach me!”

“I would if I could but because the teacher is counting on me, I have to do this.” jungwon folds his arm.

“you know what? forget it.” you packed your things. “since you don’t want to take the initiative to leave. I’ll leave for you, I have detention anyways.”

as you leave, jungwon’s jaw drops. never in his whole life has someone walked out on him like that. it kinda threw him off. well, okay. it threw him off by a lot.

the next day, jungwon catches your wrist and drags you to the library. it startled you and he pushes you to sit down on the chair.

“we are going to study whether you like it or not!” jungwon huffs and takes out his book. “turn to page 135.”

you were shocked, "hey, you can't just drag me here and force me to study. you didn't want to teach me in the first place!"

"stop being stubborn and flip to page 135."

"jerk." you muttered under your breath.

1 month later, you were still studying with jungwon. he was more civil now at least, he kept his thoughts to himself and you were thankful you didn't have to hear him complain about your mathematics being horrible. he points to the question and asks you for the answer.

"72." jungwon hums at your answer.

"correct."

you sighed in relief, "great. now, this means you can stop tutoring me."

"who said i would stop? you still have 99 more questions and you still have to pass the finals."

"why are you so insisted on helping me? i thought you made it clear you didn't want to teach me?" you huffed and folded your arms.

"seeing your grades look horrible irks me and i hate to see failing classmates so i'm here to help."

"weird. i don't usually see you go around helping our classmates. do you like me or something?"

your words caused jungwon to freeze in his seat. did he like you? no, it's not possible when you're looking really pretty in your leather jacket and coloured hair-

okay...jungwon liked you.

"and if i said i did? what are you going to do about it?"

this time it caught you off guard.

"you what?"

he gets closer to you and you gasp, "i said what if i did? what if i liked you? what are you going to do about it?"

you didn't say anything. completely speechless. you could feel your heart racing. why did jungwon suddenly look so good? you must be going insane.

jungwon pecks your cheek, "alright. turn to page 180 now. we need to cover the next few questions."

you do as you were told. still not getting over the little affection jungwon just gave you. you had to concentrate on your work for now, maybe you'd get your answers later.

or maybe he might actually kiss you for doing a good job. now, that was your motivation.

⭐️ NISHIMURA RIKI

PAIRING: star basketball player! ni-ki x fem! reader (they are college so I sort of aged up ni-ki)

basketball, the sport that ni-ki loved so much and grew to love. besides, with the advantage of being so tall, why wouldn’t he use it?

“heeseung hyung, pass the ball!” he yells out on the court. it was a small game, to train before their big final game. you were there to snap some pictures since you were part of the journalist club of your college. they usually placed someone in charge of sports for the season and this time around you were the chosen lucky one.

your job was simple, take pictures of them playing and then interview the players before and after the match to gather their thoughts. it would be simple, if you weren’t forced to literally take charge of the basketball team. you hated them, they were the worst people ever. okay, one person on the team was and it was nishimura riki. the literal bane of your existence. your enemy the most annoying person you ever met, you wished he wasn’t so good in basketball because he wouldn’t have gotten into the same university as you without his stupid athlete scholarship.

just as you snapped some photos and reviewed them, ni-ki grabs your camera and places it above his head. he was mainly teasing you for how short you are compared to him. you tried jumping to get it but failed multiple times, he laughs.

“aww little shorty is trying sooo hard to grab her precious camera.” he teases.

“nishimura, give it back. if you break the camera, i will break your legs and you won’t be able to play the season.”

he leans down to face you, “and if you break my legs will you play with the team for me?”

you scoffed and grabbed the camera from his hands.

“no. you can suffer yourself.”

just as ni-ki was about to retaliate, heeseung yells after him. ni-ki smacks your shoulders and winks at you before leaving.

“oooo nishimura, stop flirting with your girlfriend while we have practice!!” yunho, a fellow member of the team yells.

“yah! me and that asshole aren’t dating!!”

“you wished though!” ni-ki yells.

“fuck off!” you yelled back.

ni-ki’s teammates laughed as you two bicker. this was how it was, the constant bicker and subtle flirting. you weren’t flirting with ni-ki, at least that’s what you thought. maybe you just didn’t understand flirting but you clearly could tell ni-ki was sort of flirting with you. which was weird because didn’t he hate your guts in high school? why was he so flirty now? maybe he was just going through it, being a freshman and seeing college girls. it gives you the freedom like you are old enough to do something.

finally, it was the final match to the end of the season. you could finally catch a breath because you wouldn’t be focusing on the sports team next season. as the basketball team surrounded each other discussed their tactic, you took a video and snapped some photos. hopefully this would make it more professional.

the basketball team disperses and the game starts. the ball being dribbled down the court and each of the boys moving swiftly. you snapped some photos as they were playing and honestly, you think that the current pictures you took were going to be legendary. just as you put your camera down, you realised the basketball ball was being hurled at you. you closed your eyes ready for the impact but all you felt was someone holding you close and a thud.

when you opened your eyes, you realise that ni-ki had hold you close. the basketball rolling away. he checks up on you before grabbing the ball and going back into the court to finish playing the game. your cheeks were glowing, your face felt hot so you had fanned yourself. a few of the people in the crowd were making noise at the gesture ni-ki had done. it made you want to hide in one corner and just disintegrate into the ground. however, you knew you still had to continue with journaling the match because this was your job as a journalist.

the match continues with the occasional squeaking of shoes because that's how all basketball games turn out. the announcer watches and comments on every move that the players on court had to say. there were a lot of moments where your school's team could've scored a goal but the game was just toxic in general. the other team played dirty multiple times, they always found a way to not get kicked out of the court and manage to get away with it.

ni-ki was starting to get annoyed. his jaw clenches, that is when the whole room felt different. it's like a light switch was turned on because suddenly it felt really dangerous. before the time ended, your college basketball team start scoring more goals. it was brutal to the other team but ni-ki did it. the team won. they carried him up and threw him up in the air as ni-ki held the trophy. you managed to capture that moment and it was amazing.

you were smiling a little. it was heart warming. the team lets ni-ki down and he stumbles over to you.

"i won for you." he says.

you snicker, "oh really now, nishimura?"

the boy nods. "since i won this for you, may I take you on a date as a prize?"

"what is this? i thought you saw me as a threat?" you teased him.

"yeah, a threat to my heart." he flirts back. you laughed.

"go bathe, you stink." you pushed him lightly. he laughs.

"so it's on?"

"shut up."

ni-ki scoffs playfully. "you didn't say no, i'll see you later~" he leaves to bathe.

yup, this was your enemy. a dork but you liked it that way.

taglist[perm]: @ja4hyvn @ahnneyong @milklix @kar0ki @sugarsunoo @http-gyu @simpforniki @vatterie @victoriazynui @myu3ki @jhopesucker @dimplewonie @chwlogy @ilovewonyo @xiaoderrrr @uwuheeseungie @miercerise @liikno @hxney-luga @tiktaktiki @ajayke-reads @yizhoutv @s00buwu @ilovehanni1

[dalamjisung]

A muted shade of green ✧ Chapter 5: His very own lighthouse

genre: honestly who even knows at this point - angst, fluff, comfort, EVERYTHINGGGGG

word count: 5961

pairing: reader x spencer reid

description: things are happening too fast– it's been nine days of this madness and, once again, everything just seems to continue to spiral. but sometimes, in the midst of all the darkness, you find some light, and that is enough to make you keep going.

a muted shade of green masterlist

previous chapter // next chapter

author's note: sorry for the delay on the update, but it's finally here! I'm excited to see this story evolving! what are you excited about with this chapter? Let me know in the comments! <3 if you want to join the taglist for this series, please let me know in the comments!

“Knock, knock.”

The hospital smells of rubbing alcohol and plastic and it’s all a really weird experience. On one hand, you have kids books, three or four that you managed to get from the store before Spencer got you out of there. On the other, you have flowers with a card signed by both you and the boy genius that couldn’t come with. Very last minute, Spencer had gotten a call from Agent Hotchner and he had to go to the office, but he had been kind enough to drop you off to see Officer Kaper. s

“Miss Y/L/N!” He smiles from where he’s laying in bed, daughter tucked under one arm and wife by the other. “Sweetie, this is the nice book lady I told you about,” The baby girl eyes you up with that shy nature you love some much in kids. It’s a quiet kind of judgement that you fly by with a smile, slowly approaching and turning the books towards her. 

“The book lady brought more books!” You whisper, trying to keep the energy in the room positive, but not too excited. Spencer had said this was a minimal injury case– apparently Officer Kaper was at home when the break-in happened and he kept his wife and daughter safe, but had gotten injured while doing so. Stabbed, to be more precise. And although you can’t see the stitches, you can see the large bandage around his torso. Gulping, you look away, finding that his wife’s sweet smile melts your heart. “Hello. It’s really nice to meet you, I’m Y/N… and I’m… I’m really sorry.”

“Oh, no,” His wife smiled, shaking her head before coming to you and grabbing the flowers so delicately. “You have nothing to apologise for, this is not your fault.” She takes the books too, smiling at the silly little drawings in the cover before giving it to her husband.

You’re not really sure what to do in there, with this family that looks oh so happy despite the circumstances. Have you ever been that happy just to be around someone? 

Yes. 

“Y/N, let’s go! We’re going to be late!”

There is a tired drag of your feet underneath you, but you still smile, giggling at the dramatic reaction when he sees you in your dress. “Oh stop it,” You mumble, applying a final layer of lipstick before turning to him and saying, “I’m ready.” 

“And I’m the luckiest man alive,” He mumbled, kissing your forehead sweetly before opening the door to go call the elevator. That is the kind of man he is– someone who likes to be prepared for everything, who predicts what will come his way and plan accordingly to be two steps ahead. At first, it’s impressive, seeing how ready he is to deal with whatever life throws his way. It makes you puff your chest proudly and say ‘that is my man.’ But then it feels a little bothersome, really, not being able to have a thought to yourself without his curious hands prying it open and public. You can’t have anything just yours, because Josh wants everything to be his, and suddenly’y he is not your man, but you are his woman. And that doesn’t sit right with you. 

For now, though, when everything is great and amazing, anything he does has you smiling; even if your feet hurt in the too tall heels, even if your can’t breathe right in the too tight dress– you smile. Because Josh likes you smiling and you love Josh when he likes you. “And I’m the luckiest woman in the universe.”

“The entire universe?” He mumbles, smiling and pecking your lips with a calculated kiss that doesn’t blur your makeup. 

“The entire universe.” 

“That’s a big, big universe you’re talking about…”

Later on, you’d find out that even though yes, the universe is big and so much of it still goes undiscovered, sharing it with him makes you feel very, very small. 

“How is Officer Kaper doing?” Spencer asks once you step into the car. You look at him with an empty look in your face that makes him sigh. You’ve been like this since the news broke last night, alienated from your own self, and he hates it– he hates seeing the light in your eyes dim and the way your lips struggle to stretch into a smile. “Y/N?”

“Sorry,” You mumble, shaking your head to try and get your jumbled thoughts in order. “He’s uh, he’s okay. The nurse said he got lucky, which I don’t really see how, I mean, he was– he uh, got stabbed. With a knife. So not really lucky of him, in my books.”

“But he’s okay,” Spencer repeats, reaching out to lace his fingers with yours, and you’ve never held onto something so tightly like you did then to his hand. “Y/N, he’s okay. In the mean time, I’ll be in charge of your protection. The higher ups have deemed this an active case now that someone’s got injured and–“

“Wait, what?” Your head snaps to look at him, eyes wide. “Was it not an active case before?!” 

“Not officially,” Not even his soft voice can make you feel better. “It was for me and my team but… not for Strauss. That’s our section chief, she’s… complicated. Bureaucratic.”

“And there is nothing in the fucking FBI bureaucracy about considering a case of an innocent civilian being stalked by a serial killer active?” Scoffing, you pull your hand away from his as if his touch burned your skin, suddenly too aware of your situation. “What? Are they waiting for me to die or something? For her to finally get me? What the fuck, Spencer, why didn’t you tell me this before?” 

“I didn’t want to worry you,” He says quietly, eyes glancing at you for a fraction of a second before moving back to the traffic ahead. “And I still don’t. It’s going to be okay, I pro–“

“Don’t,” You say through gritted teeth, head swimming in the growing amount of information you are struggling to process. “I know you mean well, but please don’t promise me anything, because I… Spencer, right now, you’re the only person I trust, and if you promise me something you can’t keep, I don’t know what I’ll do.” 

The craziness of it all doesn’t escape you. When you were a kid, dreaming of fantastical adventures, this surely wasn’t what you had in mind. Spencer, as cordial and gentlemanly as he is, is not the perfect prince you hoped for and you, all tears and judgments, are far from being a princess. This is real life; it’s raw, and burning, and stretching, and painful, but it’s yours and you are determined to make something out of it. And whatever it is that you are making, this can’t be it. You refuse to let this be the one big event that forever determines the rest of your life. 

Takes you a little while to notice that you’re not quite going to his apartment, and your heart flutters. The thought of those beloved green walls used to make you smile. It was a glimpse inside the world of Spencer Reid, your favourite customer– of his plants, his books, his odd addiction to the colour purple showing in the smallest of details, in the pillows, the blankets, the place mats left and forgotten on his counter. The excitement is still there, though, and you will do virtually anything to keep it alive, but… but just like his walls, that spark of giddiness inside of you whenever you enter the place now is smaller. Faded. Muted. You feel guilty, admitting that yourself, and that guilt morphs into something akin to embarrassment. Sitting next to you is a man who is doing everything and anything to try and keep you safe, and yet, you just can’t find it in yourself to be as positive as he seems to be. Hope might be the last one to die, but eventually, it dies. You wonder if yours was just never there to begin with. 

“Where are we going?” You ask, looking at him for a brief second. There is a lot going on right now, specially between you two, and even looking at him is hard. Whenever you do, eyes lingering on his sharp jaw or his messy hair, you remember yesterday. You remember his hands holding you close, and his breath hitting the back of your neck. You remember how you felt, all warm and tingly everywhere, and you remember how you imagine he felt by the way his heartbeat drummed against your back. But yesterday is not good only. Yesterday is not just emotions and ease and comfort, because yesterday was also day eight of this nightmare. Day eight that marked the beginning of a new week in this torturous purgatory, baiting you with the happiness you could have but seemingly never would. “Spence?” 

He exhales, letting something heavy within himself go, when you call for him. “We’re going to the BAU. Hotch asked me to bring you in so we can ask you some questions, if you feel up for it.” 

You don’t feel up for it, but you will not tell him that. Not when it finally feels like people are finally starting to take this seriously. “Yeah. Yeah, okay,” You gulp, nodding and already digging in your bag for your ID. At this point, you know the drill, thanking the front desk man twenty minutes later when he gives you your visitor’s pass. 

“Y/N!” 

It amazes you, really, that in the midst of all of this, you still manage to make a friend. Penelope is an obvious choice, though you wouldn’t even say you had much of a choice anyways. At first you thought she had gotten your phone from Spencer, wanting to provide you with some encouraging words and a shoulder to cry on. But after learning more about her job, you know for a fact that she probably pulled your number from whatever database she could. The whole thing starts after that day in her office, with you sending her a quick apology for the entire thing– you crossed the line asking to see Cat Adam’s photo and Spencer took it even further by screaming at her. Just as you thought, Penelope is quick to forgive and forget, and since then, most of your conversation consists of memes and borderline sexualised comments about Agent Derek Morgan. You even get some pictures, though you are too scared to open them fully. From the small preview you can see on your phone, these photos are not meant for your eyes, and even know, when Agent Morgan smiles at you and Spencer walking in, you can’t help but blush.

“Are you okay?” Penelope asks, brows wiggling with knowledge that Spencer would, hopefully, never get. You don’t imagine he would be all to pleased with you seeing pictures of his co-worker shirtless, though you are still too scared and careful to admit to yourself the reason why he wouldn’t be all that happy about it. The higher the climb, the harder the fall, and you’ve fallen enough for Spencer. “You’re all red in the face and looking a little bit spooked there, Y/N. If I didn’t know you better, I’d say you’re embarrassed. But my oh my, what would you have to be embarrassed about?”

Staring at her with your mouth hanging open, you blush even further, chortling out something akin to laughter mixed with an indignant squeak. “Penelope!” Your whisper-scream is not as subtle as you think it is, and both men look at you with curiosity all over their faces. 

“Do you girls want to share with the class?” Derek asks, stepping closer to you which makes you step closer to Spencer. It’s a weird chain reaction that leaves everyone but Penelope confused, and you want to kill her and thank her at the same time. It seems that she is the only one trying to bring some normalcy back to your life. 

“Not particularly, no,” Penelope takes the lead and you’re happy to let her, purposefully ignoring Spencer’s squinted eyes on you. You know that look– you know many of his looks, actually, but that specific look is his thinking look. The one he got whenever you tell him something about celebrity drama or fan-fiction writers. Whenever Spencer has that look, you usually smile wide, knowing that it’s his own way to tell you he’s paying attention to you. Right now, however, you want him to look away and pretend you don’t exist. “Though I’m easily convinced, my hot, cho–“

“Nope,” You intervene, hands shooting to cover your ears. “Stop! Don’t you dare!”

“Aha! I knew it!” She laughed, and while you walk inside the bullpen that is now, unfortunately, familiar enough, you two bicker like children. 

“What’s going on?” The way your head snaps to the women sitting by a desk is enough of a tell for Spencer to know you are about to freak out. 

“Guys…” He tried to stop them, and you have so much faith in him that he will that your eyes sparkle for a second. It pains him to see that light within you turn off when the women clearly ignore him. 

“Emily, JJ,” Penelope giggled, rushing to their side, phone in hand. “I sent this to Y/N and–“

“Oh wow,” Emily laughs, shaking her head and looking at you with pure and raw sympathy. “You have now been through the initiation, you’re officially one of us. Congrats, Y/N!”

“Yeah, Penelope sent me those pictures on my second days as a liaison,” JJ winced, laughing nonetheless. “I will admit it made my first week very awkward.”

“What initiation?” Derek is Spencer’s opposite. Penelope has told you about them before, about their friendship, about how Derek, despite the teasing and the overbearing duty to protect his friend, was always there for little boy genius. While Spencer is silent thinking and careful calculations, Derek is quick action and instant reaction. It’s a sight to behold, those two together, and you smile when Spencer nods vigorously. 

“Yeah, what initiation?” He is looking at you because he knows you’re the one most likely to crack. 

But this time, you hold your ground, shaking your head and pursing your lips. “I–“

“Miss Y/L/N.” The mood shifts instantly, and you even feel a little bit bad for the two man walking towards where everyone has suddenly gone still. 

“Agent Hotchner, hello,” You mumble, smiling as best as you can under his gaze. 

But then something happens. 

Something changes. 

And his eyes soften. “Thank you for coming. I am sorry that it took this long for the higher ups to clear us for a full investigation of your case, but now we have proof that Cat has a partner and they they are escalating.”

“Escalating?” Little by little you learn about their vocabulary. It’s not something that any book you’ve read has touched on and it feels eerily realistic to be saying those words yourself, like you have been transported inside a book you’ve never even wanted to read. 

“It means they are evolving their methodology of… attack,” Emily words gently, trying to explain it as softly as she could, but not even the sweetest of voices or kindest of gestures could take away the fright of this entire thing. “They are getting bolder, and so they might try something that, otherwise, they wouldn’t.” 

“O-Okay,” You whisper, frowning in thought. “But, and sorry if this is a stupid question, but what is making them bolder? It can’t just be out of nowhere, right?” 

“Spoken like a true profiler,” JJ smiled with a pat to your shoulder. “Behaviour changes this drastic usually have triggers, and something triggered this. We don’t know who this partner is, but they were bold enough to try and break into a police officer’s house. This means they are reckless. Impulsive.” 

“What if it was pre-planned?” You ask, missing how Spencer looks at you with a huge smile. Having you interested in his job is better than having you hate his job, and he would take this over the other any day. “The attack.”

“We can assume it wasn’t, since Officer Kaper showed up halfway through the break-in,” Derek concluded. “Meaning the attacker didn’t account for him coming home.” 

“But you said Cat Adams is calculated,” You turn to Spencer with wide eyes– things are starting to click in your brain and you need him to know you’re not just putting all the weight on his shoulders, you need him to know that you’re trying too. “You said she plays mind games.” 

“She does,” He mumbles, holding back a smile made for you and you only. His hands find your shoulders, rubbing it up and down to try and hold back the energy he knows is accumulating inside of you; whenever you get too excited about something, be it new books or a new sale, you like to ramble a little about it, and every time you do, you bounce on the heel of your feet, up and down, up and down, up and down. “But Cat also targets men. Cheaters, specifically. And… and fathers. She has deep rooted issues with her father–“

“Cat Adams has daddy issues?” You deadpan. 

“–and her downfall is her projection. So yes, they are getting bold as a duo or… or her partner went rogue.” 

“Which one is better?” Looking at Hotch, you wince a little at your own joke. “None of them, got it.” 

“Since this is an active case, we will need your constant collaboration,” Hotchner says, guiding the entire team to a room up the stairs and, as naturally as the sun sets and rises the next morning, everyone found their place at the round table. 

Except you. 

You are not one of them. You don’t have a place. 

Or you didn’t. 

“Y/N, come here,” Spencer says, pulling an extra chair next to his. And that’s when you realise that in this weird dynamic group of people who knew way more than they should, you belong next to him. 

“Thank you,” You mumbled, nervously shoving your hands between your thighs and waiting for Penelope to take the lead. That seemed to be her thing, even if she stands out like a sore thumb in that beige room with her bright orange dress and neon blue heels. 

“Okay, fellow brainiacs and dear beloved Y/N. Let’s figure this out,” Her declaration makes you feel somewhat calmer, the sounds of buttons echoing in the room. The TV goes bright with pictures– of you, of Spencer, of Cat. Her eyes, tempting you closer with the prospect that she knows something you don’t, won’t let you look away until Spencer forces you to, his hand sliding down your arm to find yours. You’re not sure if he realises how intimate this is, specially with his co-workers surrounding you two, but you don’t push him away. Instead, you open your legs a tad, just enough to let his hand slider between your clasped ones. Just like a vine, you lace your fingers with his, and then press your thighs back together, caging him there and refusing to let it go. “Cat Adams is currently in Mount Pleasant Women's Correctional Facility serving time for countless of murders. A week ago–“

“Nine days,” You say without thinking and immediately shrink in your chair when all eyes brush over you for a second. 

“Yes, thank you! Nine days ago our dear boy genius got a package sent to his apartment while you all were out on the Oklahoma case, and since he had asked Y/N to water his plants, she ended up being the one who signed for it. We assume that’s when Cat got to know of your existence. In that box there were a bunch of, and I can’t believe I’m saying this, sexual uh, sexual paraphernalia. After that, Y/N has been under protective custody with either Officer Kaper or Reid himself. However, yesterday, Officer Kaper’s house has been broken in by a suspect we are yet to identify,” Pausing for a breath, she clicked on the remote control making photo after photo pop up. Once she has a picture of the box, though, contents on show for everyone, you look away. Even the slightest sight of it has your blood boiling. “I’ve pulled all cameras I possible can leading to Officer Kaper’s house, but most of them had been turned off ahead of the invasion. They also didn’t receive anything, no notes, no packages, nada.” 

“That is inconsistent with their MO,” Emily hums, turning to look at Spencer. “But then again, her main target is Reid, so I doubt Cat would diverge from that. She is smart, but she also likes that he knows she’s taunting him.”

“We also know that Cat doesn’t know about the bookstore,” Spence says, squeezing your hand so naturally that nothing in his face gives it away. “Her note went straight to Y/N’s home. The box went to mine. It is safe to say that she has no clue about Y/N’s personal life outside of what she shares with me.” 

No one says anything while they all stare at him, you included. “What?” 

“Nothing, nothing,” By Derek’s tone of voice, you know some teasing is about to come. “And just what do you two share, pretty boy?” 

“I-I mean– no, I didn’t mean it like that,” Spencer’s face is fire red, and though he tries to pull his hand out of yours in a moment of panic, you don’t let him. “I di– Morgan! I meant… I meant outside of what we shared.  Past tense. She has been staying at my place for nine days, so we’ve shared nine da– Morgan stop laughing! Hotch!”

At this point, even you are laughing at his high pitched voice. “Spence, it’s okay.” 

“Yeah, Spence, it’s okay!” JJ repeats and you stare at her with wide eyes. “What?! You two are adorable!”

“Focus, please,” It’s impressive how Agent Hotchner commands the room, demanding the attention back to him with just one expression of stiff frustration. But then he lets his eyes run over you and Spencer, and you notice how the corner of his lips twitch. “And yes, you two are adorable.” 

The rest of the meeting passes by in the blink of an eye. You don’t really catch onto what they are saying, most of it too deep into the field of psychology and behavioural science for a layman like you to be able to participate. However, you do listen to them. Almost like a true crime podcast playing in the background, you listen to the team narrate this entire ordeal and you’re quite surprised to notice the emotions bubbling inside of you– the anger, the frustration, the sadness. The factual tone of their voices sends shivers down your arms, creating the much needed distance from it all that you’ve craved all along… and making it all that much worse. Now that you have the opportunity to look at it from the outside, from their perspective, and you can truly see how pathetic you must be to a team of… of… of super people like them. 

Sliding down the chair, you try to hide yourself from the occasional glance in your direction, but what you seem to miss is the way your hand, clasping Spencer’s so tightly like you might just float away if you let go, shifts upwards between your legs, dangerously close to your crotch. 

“Y/N!” Spencer hissed, head snapping to look at you with eyes so wide you can see the speckles of chocolate brown in the midst of his honeyed hazel pupils. 

“What?” You whisper, almost falling from the chair with how abruptly he turned to you. “Jesus, Spencer, what is it?” 

“You okay there, kid?” Derek asks with a frown so deep you think his brows might jump out of his handsome face. 

“Yup! All good!” But he can’t fool anyone in there, not even you, with his high pitched voice and the way he snatches his arm up and away, hands fidgeting with the iPad in front of him like that would erase the redness in his face. “All fine. Moving on, next steps. Y/N and I will go back to my apartment and–“

“No.” 

To your surprise, it’s not you that say that– it’s Penelope. 

“No?” Agent Hotch asks, brows raised at the technical analyst. 

“I’m sorry sir, but… no.” 

“Pen, it’s fine,” You mumble, nodding with a sad smile. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not, and Spencer is too worried to see that you, my little flower, are wilting without your daily dose of sunshine!” She speaks so fast that even Derek takes a moment to fully understand what she’s saying. 

“Baby girl,” He sighs, shaking his head. “I understand what you mean, but the kid has a point. With the partner now possibly escalating the nature of their crimes, Y/N unfortunately needs to limit–“

“Limit my presence outside in public, yeah, I got it,” Nodding to everyone, you exhale slowly, only to take a deep inhale again. One second– that is all you need, one second to gather your bearings again, before slapping your hands gently on the table and rising slowly. With an appreciative nod and a joking tone, you smile at JJ, Emily, and Penelope. “Back to prison for me, I guess.” 

————————————

“Do you want to order some food?”

The whole ride to his apartment, you’ve been trying to get Spencer to talk to you. He’s quiet once his boss lets you two go. Not even the radio can make this a less uncomfortable drive and you are not really sure what is going on.

“No? Do you want me to cook some dinner?” Nothing but the sounds of him walking around the place. 

Doesn’t take too long before he comes back to the living room in sweatpants and one of his sweatshirts, hair even messier and glasses crooked– just a little, honestly, yet your hand still itches with the need to stretch out to him and fix them on his pretty little nose. Before you can say anything, he turns around and goes back to his room. The urgency in his steps makes you think he maybe forgot something in there, but then he comes back out and opens him mouth… only to close it and go back to the room. 

This happens a couple more time before you lose your patience. “Spencer!” You groan, quickly moving to grab his wrist before he disappears again. “Spence! What are you doing?” 

“Do you really feel like a prisoner?” 

His words shock you a little. “What?”

“Earlier you said ‘back to prison for me, I guess’ right after you said ‘limit my presence outside in public, yeah, I got it,’” The way he repeats your words verbatim makes you gasp, blushing out of self-consciousness. 

“Okay, I got it, I got it!” You grimace, still not letting go of his wrist. “I–“ 

Lying to him would be very easy. Sure, he can read your micro-expressions or whatever they are, but living with a profiler has been teaching you a thing or two about what they look out for. On top of that, living with a profiler that makes you heart beat faster with the slightest of smiles has taught you just how to hide what they are looking for… or at least how to try and hide it. So you smile a little, and just like him, you open your mouth without being able to say anything. 

Yes, you can try and lie to Spencer, but the problem is that you simply don’t want to. You don’t want to lie to him, not when he’s been putting such an effort to be truthful and honest whenever he can. 

“It’s not that I feel like a prisoner,” You whisper, looking down at how you hold his wrist so tightly and yet, he says nothing. He doesn’t complain, not even when your knuckles turn white, those eyes stuck on you the entire time. Sighing, you ease up a little, letting your hand slide down until your gently holding his hand again. It makes you brave enough to look at him without wincing in guilt. “It’s just that… I don’t know when was it that protecting me turned into… isolating me. You know?”

Spencer just shakes his head, a little exhale coming out of those beautiful lips almost as if you had pushed it out yourself. “Iso– You think I’m isolating you?”

Oh. “No, Spence, no, it’s not like, it’s not you,” You trying to make him feel better clearly just makes him feel worse. “It’s me!”

“I’ve heart that before and–“

“Spencer, I know you don’t want to isolate me from people. I know that, I really, really do,” Tugging him down to sit with you on the couch, you scoot closer to him to hold both his hands on yours. You two have done this so much at this point that there is no hesitation in reaching out to touch him anymore. “It’s just hard. I’m someone who thrives in routine and I was taken away from mine. I… I can’t work. I can’t go outside. I can’t– it just… it makes me feel a little suffocated.”

It also terrifies you, how familiar this all feels. Trapped, lonely, ignored. Just like before, people talk about you but never with you. They hear you, but no one really listens to you. It’s like you are nothing but a shell of a person, blown around by the wind of other people moving. Of Josh moving. Of Josh moving you, commanding you, caging you. And you have to remember– Spencer is not Josh. Spencer would never do to you what Josh did, he would never belittle you and then apologise with crocodile tears; he would never bring you high up for weeks and then pull the rug with one quick take down; he would never raise his hand at you and much less actually bring it down at you. No, Spencer is not Josh… but you are you, and despite all the changes you managed to fit in the past year, at your core, past the different hair and the new clothes, you are still the same girl who ran packing out of New York City. 

“And I can get a little claustrophobic, and when I get claustrophobic I panic, and when I panic I–“ You stop yourself before you say something stupid. “I’ve been in this position before, Spence. And back then I didn’t have you. I didn’t have someone who was looking out for me like you are, or who just wanted what’s best for me– because I know that’s what you want, Spence, I know you want me to be safe,” The way he slowly nods fills your heart with adoration and your eyes with unshed tears. “Back then I just had someone who wanted me. Like a kid wants a toy. He… He wasn’t a very good man, Spence, and he made sure to scare away all the good people I had, and at one point he started scaring me so I just–”

“Ran away,” And it’s like something clicks for him because his eyes get oh so sad, to the point that you turn your face when a singular tear escapes through your lashes. Offering him a gurgled laughter, you quickly wipe it away. “You ran away to Washington with just a backpack.” 

Nodding, you look up at him again and you’re a bit unsure of what to think of him like this, eyes shinning with something so unfamiliar to Spencer that it just feels wrong. It’s the way his breath picks up, ragged and loud, that makes you realise he is actually angry. No, no, scratch that– Spencer is pissed off. “What did he do to you?” 

“It doesn’t matter, Spencer.”

“What’s his name?” 

“I’m really not going to tell you,” You say with squinted eyes. “You’ll go all FBI on him.”

“That’s the entire point!” There he is, the high pitched voice, wide eyed man you adore so much, wildly gesticulating as he speaks. “People like that shouldn’t be allowed to… to… to be! I–“ Then, his hands fall down on his lap, suddenly lifeless and unmoving. “I–“ It’s like he is choking on words, frowning in desperation at his lack of speech and you don’t know what to do. You’ve never seen him this… distraught. “I–“

“Spence, it’s okay,” You whisper, clasping your hands around both of his like a little cocoon of warmth. This is the first time Spencer hints at the ghosts of his past, but from the way he flinches when you pull him closer, slowly leaning his taller body towards you so you can hug him, tells you that tonight is just not the night to talk about them. For now, you’d hold him, and you beacon him back to the real world with soft words of encouragement, like his very own lighthouse. For now, you’d be light enough for you both, even if some darkness still tries to creep in for time to time. “I’m okay.”

“I made you feel trapped,” He whispers against your neck and you can’t help the shiver that shakes your body. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry, I’m just trying to keep you safe. I’m doing the best I can, and I’m sorry it’s not enough.” 

“Hey!” You gasp, and now boundaries don’t mean anything– coyness and slow intentions are thrown out the window as you tug him closer, closer, closer, until he is practically laying on top of you. Your back is against the side of the couch and you stretched your legs, entangling them with him. As much as he tries to move, grumbling something about squishing you, you don’t let him. He needs to know. He needs to know just how much more than simply enough he is. “You are way above enough and you know that. You have to know that, Spence, you have to. Because you’re so incredible and I… I adore you, Spencer Reid. My favourite customer. My FBI agent.” 

All versions of him, all parts of him. You love them all. 

Because, in the end, all that matters is that you love him. You love Spencer Reid. And that’s a little scary. Even it is exciting, it’s still a little scary. 

His little chuckle makes it a bit more bearable, though, and he soon gives into your embrace. The weight of his body keeps you down in the most delicious of ways, and the heat he radiates is enough to have your eyes getting heavier. In the comfort of his home, snuggled up in his couch, hugging him close, you find that there is such a thing as comfortable stillness. There is peace in the unmoving. There is no need to, all the time, be moving. Because there, with Spencer in your arms and his soft breathing on your neck, you think that nothing could in the world could make you want to run again. 

“I’m sorry I made you feel isolated,” He whispers, arms enveloping you like two lifelines holding you close. “I never meant to make you panic.”

“It’s okay,” You mumble back, eyes already closed and nose buried in his sweet smelling hair. “You might have made me panic, but Spence… I don’t think you could ever make me want to run.”

No… Spencer makes you want to stay. 

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

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[novaursa]

The Dragon's Right (6)

- Summary: It was by grace of the gods that firstborn child of Viserys I and Aemma was born a boy and he lived. And all of the rest, scholars will later say, is by power of something more malevolent in kind.

- Pairing: male!reader/Rhaenyra Targaryen

- Note: For all the parts of this story, visit my blog. The list is pinned to the top.

- Rating: Explicit 18+

- Word count: 7 000+

- Previous part: 5

- Next part: 7

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff

The hour was late, the Red Keep quiet as the court had retired for the night. You sat awake in your chambers, the faint light of a candle flickering beside you. The endless routine of court life had left you restless, your mind too heavy with thoughts to find sleep. You had become accustomed to the dull rhythm of politics and responsibility since your return to King’s Landing, but the weight of it all still gnawed at you.

You ran a hand through your hair, trying to shake the weariness that had settled deep in your bones. Just as you considered whether to rise and take another walk around the room, the door to your chambers creaked open without warning or announcement.

Expecting your uncle Daemon, as was often the case, you sighed inwardly, preparing yourself for another round of complaints about Otto Hightower’s growing influence or another suggestion to join him in the lower city for some ill-advised adventure. But when you turned, you were surprised to see Rhaenyra standing in the doorway instead.

Her presence filled the room instantly, her usual quiet grace now tinged with something more urgent. Her violet eyes met yours, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. There was something in her gaze that was both familiar and unsettling, a mixture of affection and determination.

"I needed to see you once more today," she said softly, closing the door behind her as she stepped into the room.

You frowned slightly, worried by the intensity in her voice. "Rhaenyra, it’s late. If someone sees you—"

She shook her head, cutting you off as she approached. "I don’t care," she replied, her voice firm. "I spoke with Alicent."

At the mention of her friend, your frown deepened. "What did you say to her?"

"I told her to stay away from you," Rhaenyra said bluntly, her tone laced with a mixture of frustration and jealousy.You sighed, running a hand through your hair again. "Rhaenyra… you and Alicent are close. You shouldn’t—"

"I know," she interrupted, a flicker of regret crossing her face. "But I couldn’t stand it anymore. The way she tries to get close to you, the way she looks at you... It drives me mad."

Her confession hit you like a blow, and you could see the turmoil in her eyes, the battle between her loyalty to her friend and the possessive jealousy she couldn’t suppress. You stood, taking a step toward her, unsure of how to navigate the storm of emotions that now swirled between you.

"Rhaenyra," you began carefully, "I don’t want you getting into trouble because of this. Whatever the situation is between us, it doesn’t need to affect your friendship with Alicent."

She crossed the distance between you, her eyes never leaving yours. "I thought about it all day," she whispered, her voice softer now. "About what we talked about earlier. About us."

Your breath caught in your throat as she stepped closer, her presence overwhelming your senses. "I thought about it too," you admitted, your voice low. "But we have to be careful."

"Do we?" Rhaenyra asked, her tone challenging. "We’re Targaryens. It’s in our blood. Why should we deny what we feel?"

Before you could answer, she closed the final gap between you and, without hesitation, climbed into your lap. Her fingers brushed lightly against your neck as she leaned in, her lips finding yours with a fierce determination that sent a shiver through your entire body.

The kiss was soft at first, tentative, but quickly deepened as you gave in to the emotions you had been trying to suppress. Your hands instinctively moved to her hips, holding her in place as she pressed herself against you. The warmth of her body, the scent of her hair, the feel of her lips—it was intoxicating, and before you knew it, you were trailing your hands up her back, pulling her closer still.

Her lips parted under yours, and the kiss became something more—more urgent, more desperate, as if the floodgates you had feared had finally broken open. Every touch, every movement was an exploration of the complex feelings that had been building between you both for so long. You could feel her fingers tangling in your hair, her breath quickening as the kiss deepened further.

The world outside disappeared as you lost yourself in her—your sister, your blood, your equal. The lines between love, desire, and duty blurred until they were indistinguishable, leaving only the two of you, caught in a moment that felt inevitable.

Eventually, you both pulled back, breathless, your foreheads resting against one another as you caught your breath. Rhaenyra’s fingers traced along your jaw, her touch gentle yet possessive. There was a softness in her eyes now, an affection that spoke of something deeper than mere attraction.

"How can we stop this?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.

You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to steady your thoughts, but when you opened them again, all you could see was her—Rhaenyra, your sister, your equal, the one person who understood you in ways no one else ever could. You reached up, brushing a strand of her silver hair behind her ear, your thumb grazing her cheek.

"I don’t know if we can," you admitted softly, your voice filled with the weight of your confession. "But we have to be careful. Father would never allow it. The court, the Faith… they would try to tear us apart."

Rhaenyra’s eyes darkened with defiance as she leaned in closer, her lips brushing against your ear. "Then let them try."

The fire in her words ignited something in you, something that had been smoldering for so long but now burned brightly. You kissed her again, softer this time, more deliberate, as if savoring every moment.

When you pulled away, you smiled down at her, your fingers tracing along her arm. "You’re dangerous, Rhaenyra."

A smirk tugged at the corners of her lips as she met your gaze, her eyes gleaming with a mixture of mischief and affection. "I learned from the best."

You chuckled softly, shaking your head. "We need to be smart about this."

"I know," she whispered, her tone more serious now. "But I can’t help what I feel. And neither can you."

You held her gaze, the weight of the truth settling between you. There was no going back now. Whatever lay ahead—whether it was the ire of the court, the disapproval of your father, or the dangers that came with your newfound connection—you both knew that this was a path you had chosen.

The atmosphere in the small council chamber was tense the next morning. King Viserys sat at the head of the table, his brow furrowed in thought as his advisors gathered to discuss the ongoing matters of the realm. Corlys Velaryon, ever the advocate for action in the Stepstones, was the first to speak, his deep voice cutting through the quiet murmurs of the room.

“The situation in the Stepstones cannot be ignored any longer, Your Grace,” Corlys began, leaning forward in his seat. “The Free Cities are growing bolder by the day, and their pirates choke the trade routes we depend on. If we do not act soon, it will become more than a mere annoyance—it will be a full-scale war, one we are not prepared for.”

Viserys sighed heavily, his eyes weary. This had been a topic of constant debate for months now, and the pressures of dealing with the Stepstones weighed heavily on his shoulders. “I understand your concerns, Lord Corlys,” Viserys said, his voice tired but steady. “But sending men and ships to the Stepstones will require resources we cannot easily spare. And with the situation at home—”

“We cannot afford not to act,” Corlys interjected, his tone more urgent now. “The crown’s strength is being tested on multiple fronts. If we do nothing, we will be seen as weak, and those who oppose us will seize that opportunity.”

Viserys leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples as the weight of the council’s concerns pressed down on him. He knew Corlys was right in many ways, but the thought of yet another conflict on the horizon was one he dreaded. Before he could respond, Tayland Lannister spoke up hesitantly, his voice carrying a note of caution.

“Your Grace… there’s another matter that requires your attention,” Tayland began, glancing nervously around the table before continuing. “Dorne… it seems there have been reports along the borders again. They’ve been unusually quiet since Prince Y/N returned to the capital with his dragon, but now there are whispers of movement once more. It’s… concerning.”

Viserys’s expression darkened as he turned to Tayland, the mention of Dorne stirring up memories of the years-long skirmishes his son had just returned from. “Are you suggesting,” Viserys said slowly, his voice tight with barely restrained frustration, “that my only son should be sent back to wage another campaign against Dorne? After everything he has already sacrificed?”

The room fell into an uneasy silence. Tayland shifted uncomfortably in his seat, clearly regretting his words. “No, Your Grace, I… I only meant to say that the situation is escalating again. But I agree, it would be unwise to send Prince Y/N back into that… turmoil so soon after his return.”

Viserys’s hands tightened on the arms of his chair, his frustration evident. “He has just returned to us, to his family. I will not send him back to fight a war that may never truly end. There must be another solution.”

Lord Lyonel Strong, always the voice of reason, spoke up after a brief pause. “Your Grace, I understand your desire to protect your son, as do we all. But we must acknowledge the importance of securing our borders. Dorne is unpredictable, and if they sense weakness, they will strike. However, sending the prince to face them again is not a long-term solution. We cannot afford to jeopardize the king’s only male heir every time a threat arises.”

Lyonel’s words hung heavy in the air, and the other council members nodded in agreement. The stakes were high, and while Y/N had proven himself a capable warrior, his constant involvement in these dangerous conflicts was not sustainable for the future of the realm.

Grand Maester Mellos, who had been quietly observing the conversation, cleared his throat and added his voice to the discussion. “Lord Lyonel speaks wisely. Prince Y/N has more than proven his worth on the battlefield, but his place is here, at court, preparing to take on the responsibilities of the crown. We cannot risk his life in prolonged skirmishes. It is the duty of the crown to ensure stability for the future.”

Viserys exhaled slowly, nodding as he absorbed the council’s words. “You’re right, all of you. My son has done more than enough for the realm, and I will not send him to fight these endless battles again. We must find a way to secure our borders without sacrificing my heir.”

Corlys, though still eager for action, seemed to understand the king’s concern. He leaned back slightly, his tone more measured now. “If we do not wish to send Prince Y/N back into the fray, then we must consider strengthening our defenses along the Dornish border. More men, perhaps. More fortifications. A show of force to deter any further incursions.”

Lyonel nodded in agreement. “A strong presence on the border may be enough to keep Dorne in check, at least for the time being. It would send a message without committing the prince to another campaign.”

Viserys seemed to take comfort in that suggestion, though the weight of his decisions still sat heavily on his shoulders. “Very well,” he said quietly. “Begin preparations to reinforce our forces along the border. We will not provoke Dorne, but we will not be caught unprepared.”

The council members murmured their agreement, and the conversation turned to the practicalities of mobilizing the necessary men and resources. But as the discussion continued, Viserys’s mind remained elsewhere—on his son, on the future of the realm, and on the difficult choices that lay ahead.

After the meeting adjourned and the council members began to filter out of the room, Viserys sat in silence for a long moment, his thoughts troubled. The kingdom was constantly in a state of unrest, with threats both near and far, and though he longed for peace, it seemed ever elusive.

The days in the capital had begun to stretch into a monotonous blur of courtly duties and council meetings. You found yourself restless, confined by the expectations of your role as the king's heir. The small council had agreed to a strategy to secure the borders of Dorne and strengthen the Stepstones, but to your growing frustration, it was Daemon, not you, who was being sent to deliver the message and oversee its execution alongside Lord Corlys Velaryon, the Sea Snake.

You had spent years on the battlefield, earning your place as a warrior and a leader, and now, to be told that you were needed in the capital rather than on the front lines gnawed at you. Duty was one thing, but to be sidelined while others carried out the work you were more than capable of handling left you feeling as though you were trapped in a gilded cage.

It was on one of those restless days that you found yourself walking through the Dragonpit, the familiar scent of dragon leather and smoke filling the air. Your feet carried you forward instinctively, until you rounded the corner and saw your uncle, Daemon, preparing for his departure. Caraxes, his blood-red dragon, loomed behind him, stretching his wings as if eager to take flight.

Daemon, as always, looked at ease, his armor gleaming under the dim light of the pit. He was speaking with a handful of his men, issuing last-minute orders before mounting his dragon. His casual confidence only seemed to stoke the fire of your frustration further.

“Off to war again, are you, Uncle?” you called, your tone sharper than you intended as you approached.

Daemon turned, a knowing smirk already forming on his lips when he saw you. “Aye, someone has to keep things interesting while you play the dutiful prince in King’s Landing,” he said, his voice laced with that familiar mix of teasing and challenge.

You frowned, coming to a stop in front of him. “I should be going with you,” you said bluntly, your hands flexing at your sides. “This strategy was mine as much as anyone's. Yet here I am, stuck in the capital while you fly off to handle things.”

Daemon raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by your frustration. “Don’t tell me you’re starting to enjoy the council meetings, nephew. Perhaps court life is growing on you after all.”

You shot him a glare, but Daemon only laughed, clearly enjoying your irritation. “It’s not a matter of enjoying it. I’ve fought in Dorne, I know the terrain, the people. I should be there with you.”

Daemon’s smirk faded slightly as he regarded you more seriously. “You’ve already done your duty in Dorne, Y/N. The realm can’t afford to lose its heir over another skirmish. That’s why Viserys wants you here. Someone has to keep the peace while I make sure the Stepstones don’t fall into chaos.”

You clenched your jaw, unwilling to let the matter rest. “I’m not made for sitting idly by, Daemon. I should be out there, doing what I do best.”

Daemon’s expression shifted, and for a moment, there was a flicker of something close to understanding in his eyes. He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Believe me, I know how it feels to be sidelined, to be told that you’re too valuable to risk. But you have something bigger to worry about. You’re the heir to the Iron Throne. If you fall, if something happens to you, Viserys loses everything.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but Daemon cut you off with a knowing look. “I’ve fought in more wars than I care to count, and I’ve seen men die for less. But this—what you and I are dealing with now—this is about the long game. You’ll get your chance to fight again, trust me. But for now, the capital needs you. Viserys needs you.”

You sighed, the weight of his words sinking in. As much as you hated to admit it, Daemon was right. Your place, as frustrating as it was, was here in King’s Landing, keeping the peace and preparing for the future. The realm needed stability, and as much as you longed to be out in the field, your father had made it clear that your role as heir took precedence.

Daemon clapped a hand on your shoulder, his usual cocky grin returning. “Besides, someone has to keep an eye on Otto while I’m gone. Can’t trust him to keep his hands clean without us watching.”

You smirked despite yourself, shaking your head. “You’d rather see me fight in council chambers than on the battlefield?”

“If you can survive a meeting with Hightower without strangling him, I’d say you’ve already won a battle,” Daemon quipped. He moved past you toward Caraxes, his dragon shifting eagerly as his rider approached.

As Daemon mounted the blood-red dragon, he cast one last glance over his shoulder. “Don’t worry, nephew. I’ll make sure the Stepstones stay under control. You just keep things from falling apart here.”

With that, Daemon urged Caraxes into the air, the dragon’s powerful wings beating against the wind as they lifted into the sky. You watched them go, the weight of your frustration still heavy in your chest, though tempered by the reminder of your responsibility. You knew Daemon was right, but the desire to join him still burned in your veins.

As Caraxes disappeared into the clouds, you turned away, your mind already shifting back to the politics of the capital. There was no escaping the duties that awaited you, no matter how much you longed for the freedom of the battlefield. For now, the capital would be your battleground, and courtly intrigue your sword.

You could only hope it was enough to keep you sane until you could fly into battle again.

The afternoon sun bathed the gardens of the Red Keep in a soft, golden glow. The air was warm, and a gentle breeze rustled through the leaves of the trees, bringing with it the faint scent of roses and lavender. Rhaenyra sat on a cushioned bench beneath one of the larger trees, surrounded by her handmaidens, who were engaged in quiet conversation. Beside her, Alicent sat with her usual poise, though the tension between them was palpable despite the pleasant setting.

Since their argument a few days ago, the two friends had yet to fully resolve the unspoken rift between them. They had, for now, put their differences aside, but there was an underlying awkwardness that neither seemed eager to address directly. Rhaenyra, for her part, felt torn between her loyalty to Alicent and the possessive protectiveness she now felt toward her brother. Every time she looked at Alicent, she could feel the jealousy simmering beneath the surface, though she did her best to hide it.

Still, today, Rhaenyra felt lighter, happier. It had been a few days since her last encounter with her brother, and the memory of their shared kiss, their stolen moments of intimacy, filled her with a warmth she hadn’t felt in a long time. She had missed him terribly in the years he had spent in Dorne, but now that he was back, she felt whole again—more than whole, even. There was a secret between them now, something precious and exhilarating that only they shared. It was a feeling that made her heart race and her thoughts drift to places she dared not speak aloud.

Alicent, always attuned to her friend’s moods, noticed the change in Rhaenyra almost immediately. She had observed over the past few days how Rhaenyra seemed… different. There was a lightness in her demeanor, a quiet joy that hadn’t been there before. Despite their recent argument, Alicent couldn’t help but feel a mix of curiosity and concern.

“You seem happier these days, Rhaenyra,” Alicent remarked, her tone casual, though her eyes searched Rhaenyra’s face for any hint of what might have caused this change. “More at ease than you were a week ago.”

Rhaenyra glanced at Alicent, her expression neutral for a moment before a small smile tugged at her lips. “I suppose I am,” she admitted, leaning back against the bench, her fingers absentmindedly playing with the hem of her gown. “It’s good to have my brother home again. I had forgotten how much I missed him.”

Alicent smiled, though there was a flicker of something behind her eyes—something Rhaenyra didn’t miss. “He has been a calming presence for all of us, I think,” Alicent said softly. “The court feels… steadier with him back.”

Rhaenyra nodded, though her mind wandered to thoughts that had little to do with the politics of the court. Her happiness, her newfound sense of ease, had little to do with the stability of King’s Landing and everything to do with the intimate moments she had shared with her brother. The kiss they had stolen, the way his hands had moved over her body, the way they had whispered to each other in the quiet of the night—it filled her with a secret kind of joy that made her pulse quicken just thinking about it.

But she couldn’t tell Alicent that, of course. She couldn’t tell anyone. It was a secret she held close to her heart, something that belonged to her and her brother alone. And yet, as she sat there in the garden, surrounded by her handmaidens and her friend, Rhaenyra felt the weight of that secret pressing down on her, urging her to protect it at all costs.

Alicent’s voice broke through her thoughts. “It’s good to see you like this,” she said, her tone soft, almost wistful. “You’ve always been so strong, Rhaenyra, but… there’s a lightness about you now that I haven’t seen in a long time.”

Rhaenyra glanced at Alicent, her smile widening slightly. “Perhaps it’s because I’m no longer alone,” she replied, though her words held a double meaning that Alicent could not have understood. “It’s been… good to have him near. To be reminded of how much he means to me.”

Alicent nodded, though Rhaenyra could sense the unspoken tension between them. The argument they had about her brother still lingered in the background, and while they had put it aside for now, Rhaenyra knew that it had changed something between them. Alicent had always been loyal, always supportive, but there was no denying that her interest in [Your Name] had stoked Rhaenyra’s possessiveness.

“I spoke to my father recently,” Alicent said after a moment, her tone more subdued now. “He mentioned how important it is for your brother to find a suitable match. I imagine the court will soon begin pressuring him.”

Rhaenyra’s smile faltered slightly at that, her heart tightening at the thought of her brother being married off to some noble lady for the sake of alliances. She knew his duty as heir, just as she knew her own, but the idea of sharing him with anyone else made her blood run cold.

“I’m sure the court has its plans,” Rhaenyra replied carefully, her tone measured. “But my brother has never been one to let others decide his fate for him.”

Alicent glanced at Rhaenyra, a knowing look in her eyes. “Perhaps not. But you know as well as I do that duty often outweighs personal desires in our world. Your brother will have to marry eventually.”

Rhaenyra clenched her jaw slightly, trying to keep her voice calm. “Perhaps. But that doesn’t mean he will let them choose for him.”

A silence fell between them, the tension from their previous argument rearing its head once more. Alicent, ever observant, seemed to sense the shift in Rhaenyra’s mood and quickly changed the subject, offering a soft smile. “Regardless, it’s good to see you happy, Rhaenyra. You deserve it.”

Rhaenyra returned the smile, though it didn’t reach her eyes. Internally, she was still reeling from the conversation, her mind racing with thoughts of her brother and the future that seemed so uncertain. She couldn’t bear the thought of losing him, not after everything they had shared. And though she knew the court would try to force his hand, she was determined to protect what they had.

As the afternoon wore on and the sun began to dip lower in the sky, the handmaidens began to gather their things, preparing to leave the gardens. Rhaenyra stood, her mind still swirling with the weight of her secret and the unspoken tension between her and Alicent. She couldn’t shake the feeling that her brother’s return had changed everything—not just for her, but for the future of the realm.

The darkness surrounded you, thick and suffocating. You knew you were dreaming, yet the world felt all too real, pulling you back to the brutal, violent past you had tried so hard to leave behind. The scent of blood and smoke filled your nostrils, the familiar roar of battle echoing in your ears.

You were back on the Dornish border, where the sun beat down mercilessly on the rocky landscape, turning the sand beneath your feet into a blinding sea of heat. But the heat wasn’t what bothered you. It was the blood, the endless blood that stained the ground, your armor, your hands.

Before you, Silverwing loomed, her massive form casting a shadow over the battlefield. Her scales glimmered in the sunlight, a majestic and terrifying sight as she snarled, her jaws open wide, ready to unleash hell upon your enemies.

The clash of swords, the cries of dying men, and the acrid scent of burning flesh assaulted your senses as you gripped the reins, your heart pounding in your chest. You had been here before, so many times. Leading men into battle, commanding them, killing for the crown. But this time, it felt different. More vivid. More terrifying.

Dornish soldiers surged forward, their spears glinting in the sun, their faces twisted with rage and desperation. You shouted orders to your men, your voice hoarse from the strain of command, but your words seemed to be lost in the chaos around you. The Dornish were relentless, their numbers overwhelming, and despite the strength of your forces, you could feel the tide turning.

With a roar, Silverwing reared up, her wings beating against the air with enough force to send men stumbling backward. You felt the bond between you and your dragon pulse through your veins as you urged her forward. With a deafening screech, Silverwing descended upon the enemy, her massive jaws snapping shut around a group of Dornish soldiers.

Blood sprayed across the battlefield as Silverwing bit down, her powerful teeth tearing through armor, flesh, and bone with sickening ease. The sound of the men’s screams was lost beneath the thunderous roar of the dragonfire that erupted from her mouth, incinerating everything in its path. Soldiers who had been advancing toward you moments before were now nothing more than charred corpses, their bodies reduced to ash.

You watched, horrified, as Silverwing tore into another group of soldiers, her claws ripping them apart with savage efficiency. Blood splattered across the sand, pooling in thick, dark puddles that soaked into the earth. Limbs were torn from bodies, men reduced to nothing more than broken pieces of flesh and bone, and still, the Dornish kept coming.

The heat of the dragonfire was unbearable, searing your skin even from where you sat atop Silverwing. The stench of burning flesh filled your lungs, choking you, but there was no time to think, no time to feel anything but the cold, brutal instinct to survive. You spurred Silverwing forward, her massive body plowing through the enemy lines, scattering men like leaves in the wind.

But it wasn’t enough. No matter how many men Silverwing killed, no matter how many bodies littered the ground, the Dornish soldiers kept coming, their faces twisted with hatred, their eyes filled with the desire to see you dead. You felt the familiar knot of fear tighten in your chest as the enemy began to close in around you.

Suddenly, one of the Dornish soldiers broke through the chaos, his spear aimed directly at you. You had only a split second to react, but it wasn’t fast enough. The spear pierced your side, the sharp pain exploding through your body as the world spun around you. Blood poured from the wound, hot and sticky against your skin, but you barely had time to register the pain before another soldier was upon you, his sword raised high.

Silverwing roared in fury, her massive jaws snapping shut around the soldier, crushing him with a sickening crunch. Blood sprayed across your face as the man’s body was ripped apart in Silverwing’s teeth, his screams cut short as his skull was crushed like an eggshell.

The battlefield was a nightmare of blood, fire, and death. Everywhere you looked, there were bodies—some charred beyond recognition, others torn apart by dragonfire and claws. The ground was slick with blood, the air thick with the stench of death. You felt the weight of it pressing down on you, suffocating you.

You tried to command Silverwing, to take control of the chaos, but your voice wouldn’t come. The pain from the spear wound throbbed in time with your heartbeat, making it hard to breathe. Your vision blurred, the world around you spinning as you fought to stay conscious. But even through the haze of pain, you could still see the carnage—Silverwing tearing through men like they were nothing more than playthings, their bodies breaking and burning beneath her fury.

You were losing control, and you knew it. The battle was slipping away from you, and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

And then, suddenly, you were falling. The reins slipped from your fingers, your body tipping forward as the ground rushed up to meet you. You hit the sand with a bone-jarring thud, the impact driving the air from your lungs. The world went black for a moment, the sounds of the battlefield fading into nothing.

When you opened your eyes again, the first thing you saw was blood—so much blood, pooling around you, soaking into the sand. Your own blood. You tried to move, to push yourself up, but your body wouldn’t respond. You were trapped, helpless, watching as the battle raged on around you.

Silverwing roared somewhere in the distance, her voice filled with rage and pain. You could feel her, feel her fury, her desperation to protect you. But you were powerless to help her, powerless to stop the nightmare unfolding before your eyes.

The last thing you saw before the darkness claimed you was the sight of Silverwing, her jaws clamped down on another group of Dornish soldiers, their bodies breaking apart like twigs beneath her crushing teeth. The blood sprayed across the battlefield, the screams of the dying filling your ears.

And then, there was nothing.

You woke with a start, your heart pounding in your chest, your body drenched in sweat. The room around you was quiet, the familiar walls of your chambers in the Red Keep reassuring you that you were no longer on the battlefield. But the images of the nightmare lingered—Silverwing’s fury, the blood, the death.

You ran a hand through your hair, trying to shake the feeling of dread that clung to you. It was just a dream, you reminded yourself. Just a dream. But deep down, you knew that it was more than that. It was a memory—a memory of the horrors you had witnessed, the lives you had taken, and the toll it had taken on your soul.

No matter how far you ran from it, the blood and fire of Dorne would always haunt you.

The sun was high in the sky, casting a warm glow over the Red Keep as you walked alongside your father through the expansive gardens of the palace. King Viserys had been spending more time with you in the past months since your return from Dorne, and today was no different. He seemed eager, almost desperate at times, to enjoy moments of quiet between the demands of his reign. 

You had always admired your father’s ability to maintain a sense of peace amidst the political storms that often raged around him. But lately, something had shifted. As the days passed, you found yourself becoming more aware of the subtle signs of wear and tear that the Iron Throne had wrought upon him.

As you walked, you couldn’t help but notice the slight tremble in your father’s hand. It was barely perceptible, but you had spent enough time in his company recently to know that it wasn’t just a passing weakness. Your brows furrowed in concern, and you finally spoke up, your voice quiet but laced with worry.

“Father,” you began, glancing at his hand, “are you feeling well?”

Viserys looked at you, startled by the question at first, but then smiled in that familiar way of his, as if trying to reassure you of something he could no longer be certain of himself. He flexed his hand slightly, noticing your gaze.

“I’m fine, truly,” he said, though his tone was too quick, too eager to dismiss your concerns. “It’s nothing but an old man’s ache. The last cut I suffered from sitting the throne seemed to have gone deeper than usual… into the muscle, I think. It must have caused the tremble.”

You frowned, stopping for a moment to face him fully. “The Iron Throne should not wound the king, Father. I fear it has done more harm than you’re letting on.”

Viserys waved a hand, brushing off your concern. “The throne is sharp and unforgiving, yes, but I’ve sat upon it for years. It’s nothing more than an old man’s ailment. Nothing for you to worry about.”

But you couldn’t let go of the unease that gnawed at you. You had heard the stories, how the throne only cut those who were unworthy, how its jagged edges served as a constant reminder of the heavy price of rule. And now, seeing your father—the once strong, vibrant man who had ruled the realm with a steady hand—reduced to such a state, it made you wonder if the cost of the throne was truly worth it.

You glanced down at your father’s hand again, the faint tremor still there. Silent for a moment, you felt a heaviness settle in your chest as you considered the prospect that one day, the Iron Throne would be yours. It was a thought you had pushed aside for years, choosing instead to focus on your duties as a warrior, a protector of the realm. But now, standing here beside your father, the reality of it felt closer than ever.

“Is it worth it, Father?” you asked quietly, almost to yourself, though the question lingered in the air between you.

Viserys looked at you sharply, his expression softening after a beat as he realized the weight behind your words. He sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly as if burdened by more than just the crown. “Is it worth it…” he repeated softly, his gaze distant as he looked out at the gardens. “The Iron Throne… it is a heavy burden, my son. There is no denying that. But we don’t take the throne because it is easy, or because it is what we wish for ourselves.”

He turned to face you, his eyes tired but full of the wisdom of years spent ruling. “We take the throne because it is our duty. Our legacy. We are Targaryens, and the realm looks to us for leadership, for stability. That is worth more than the cost.”

You remained silent for a moment, pondering his words. The duty of being heir to the throne had always been something you accepted but never truly embraced. You had spent years on the battlefield, finding comfort in the clarity of combat, where there were no endless whispers of court intrigue or delicate balance of politics. But ruling… ruling was something different. It required sacrifice, constant vigilance, and endless compromise. And it required you to sit upon that cursed throne, the one that had already begun to cut into your father’s flesh.

“I understand the duty,” you said after a moment, your voice measured, “but I can’t help but feel that ruling is more than just doing what is expected of us. You’ve always been able to manage the demands of the crown, but I fear I lack your patience. I don’t know if I can find that balance.”

Viserys smiled gently, placing a hand on your shoulder. “You’re more like me than you think, Y/N, though I know you’ve never desired court life. You’ve always been happiest on the battlefield, away from the games of politics. But ruling is its own kind of battle. And, just like on the battlefield, you must find the right strategy.”

You chuckled lightly, though the weight of his words didn’t escape you. “I’ve always preferred the battlefield, where at least I know who my enemies are.”

“That’s the trick,” Viserys said, his smile widening. “In court, they may not hold swords, but the battles are just as dangerous. And the price of losing is far greater.”

You nodded, understanding what he was saying. The thought of navigating the intricacies of the court, of having to make decisions that could affect the entire realm, filled you with a sense of dread. But this was the reality of your position. One day, the crown would pass to you, whether you were ready for it or not.

Viserys seemed to sense your unease and gently changed the subject, steering the conversation away from the future you both knew was inevitable. “Have you been adjusting well since your return? I know the transition from the battlefield to the court isn’t an easy one.”

You sighed, glancing around the garden before looking back at your father. “It’s… an adjustment. I’ve managed, somehow, though it’s been difficult to find my footing. Everything here feels slower, more drawn out. There’s no sense of urgency like there is in battle.”

Viserys nodded thoughtfully. “Court life can feel stifling at times, I’ll admit. It isn’t what you imagined for yourself, I’m sure.”

You gave a small, humorless laugh. “No, it isn’t. But I’ve accepted my place. I know what’s expected of me.”

Viserys squeezed your shoulder gently, his expression softening with affection. “I know, my son. And I also know that this is not the life you would have chosen for yourself. You’ve always been a warrior, someone who thrives in action. But a good king finds balance. He learns to fight the battles that can’t be won with a sword.”

You glanced at your father, seeing the weight of years of rule etched into his face. His words, though meant to reassure you, only served to remind you of the impossible burden that awaited you. You couldn’t help but wonder if you would ever find that balance he spoke of—if you could ever be the ruler your father believed you could be.

As you walked together in the garden, your mind drifted back to the Iron Throne, to the cuts it had already inflicted on your father. The price of rule was steep, and as much as you tried to push the thought aside, you knew that one day, that same burden would fall upon you.

But for now, you would follow your father’s guidance, learn what you could, and prepare for the day when the realm would look to you to sit upon the throne that demanded blood as its price.

The evening was late, and the Red Keep had settled into a quiet stillness, with only the occasional flicker of torchlight and the distant echo of footsteps from the night’s watchmen to break the silence. It was during these hours that you found your way to Rhaenyra’s chambers, as had become your clandestine routine. Your secret meetings, hidden from the prying eyes of the court, were the only times you both could truly be together—free from the weight of duty and expectation.

The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of candles casting long shadows across the walls. You could hear the gentle rustling of the curtains as the evening breeze slipped through the cracks of the window. But none of that mattered. The moment you entered, your attention was solely on her—Rhaenyra, lying in wait on the bed, her eyes bright with the same fire that had been between you since your first kiss.

Without a word, you crossed the room and claimed her lips in a feverish kiss, your hands cradling her face as you pressed her down into the softness of the mattress. The world outside, the pressures of the throne, the burdens you carried as the heir to the realm—all of it disappeared in her presence. Here, in the dark, it was just the two of you, and nothing else mattered.

Your body moved instinctively, pressing closer to hers, the thin layers of clothing between you both doing little to contain the heat of your shared desire. Rhaenyra responded eagerly, her fingers tangling in your hair as she pulled you closer, her breath coming faster with each kiss. You could feel her heart beating in time with your own, the intensity of the moment building as your hands roamed over her body.

She broke the kiss for a moment, her eyes locked onto yours, filled with the same fierce affection and need that mirrored your own. "I missed you," she whispered, her voice soft but filled with the weight of truth.

You smiled, brushing a strand of silver hair from her face. "I’m here now," you whispered back before capturing her lips once more, your kisses growing deeper, more urgent.

As you pressed her further into the bed, her hands moved down, her fingers grazing the waistband of your trousers before slipping inside. The sensation made you groan into the kiss, your body reacting instantly to her touch. She worked with practiced ease, her hand moving slowly as she freed your manhood from the confines of your clothing.

The moment her fingers wrapped around you, the world seemed to narrow to the sensation alone. Your groan deepened, your forehead resting against hers as you allowed yourself to get lost in the moment. The heat between you both was nearly unbearable, the need to be closer, to feel her entirely, overwhelming every other thought in your mind.

"Rhaenyra," you breathed against her lips, your voice hoarse with desire.

She smiled, a soft, knowing smile, and kissed you again, her hand continuing its slow, deliberate work. The pressure built quickly, your body responding to her touch with an intensity you couldn’t control. Her thumb brushed against you in just the right way, and with a final shudder, you felt the release you had been so desperately chasing.

You groaned against her lips, your body trembling as you spilled yourself onto her thigh, the tension that had been building finally giving way to sweet relief. Your breath came in ragged gasps, your forehead still pressed to hers as you tried to regain your composure.

Rhaenyra smiled at you, her expression one of both satisfaction and tenderness. She brought your face back to hers for another kiss, soft and slow, as though savoring the moment. Her fingers trailed through your hair as she pressed closer to you, the warmth of her body a comfort in the quiet aftermath.

You opened your eyes, your heart still racing, and kissed her forehead gently. "It’s my turn," you whispered against her skin, your voice filled with both affection and desire. "To return the favor."

Rhaenyra’s eyes gleamed with anticipation as you began trailing kisses down her jawline, your lips brushing against her neck, lingering there as you felt the pulse of her heartbeat beneath your lips. She sighed softly, her hands gently pulling at your shoulders as you moved lower, your mouth tracing a path along her collarbone, then down her chest.

Your kisses grew slower, more deliberate, as you moved further down her body, your lips brushing against her stomach, feeling the soft curve of her skin beneath your fingertips. Every touch seemed to draw out a deeper sigh from her, her body relaxing beneath you as she surrendered to the sensations you were creating.

When your kisses reached her womanhood, her breath hitched, and a low moan escaped her lips, her fingers tangling in your hair as she arched slightly beneath you. You felt the heat of her, tasted the subtle sweetness of her skin, and your only thought was to please her, to give her the same release she had given you.

Rhaenyra’s soft moans filled the room, her fingers tightening in your hair as you continued your ministrations, her body trembling with every kiss, every touch. The sounds of her pleasure only spurred you on, the bond between you deepening with each passing second, each shared breath.

As you looked up at her, seeing the way her eyes fluttered closed in pure satisfaction, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself. There was no one else in the world who could make you feel the way she did—no one else who could understand the depth of your connection. And in that moment, you knew that nothing, not even the demands of the court, could take this from you.

This was yours. She was yours. And for now, in the quiet intimacy of the night, that was all that mattered.