#it keeps them alive and makes sure someone remembers them still

[gloriousfckingpurpose]

lisa “i just don’t think anyone should be forgotten” swallows taking rubbings of gravestones 🤝 me visiting graveyards and taking down names that call to me to use for characters in my writing to give them a second life

[hwnglx]

pick a pile - your ideal type vs. your future spouse

hi dear reader! i thought of an idea where i could look into how you guys' ideal types compare to your future lovers. note that this is a general reading, so not everything will resonate with everyone! breathe slowly, take your time and use your intuition to go with the pile that speaks to you the most. remember to take what resonates, and let the rest flow. 𓆩♡𓆪

⋆˚࿔ pile 1 𝜗𝜚˚��

your ideal type

in your romantic partners, you're looking for a best friend.

someone you can cheerfully celebrate the highs in your life with. a person who will be able to bring you a sense of joy and happiness in life.

it's likely you want someone who's like your good luck charm. they brighten up your life in the most pleasant ways, and are able to provide you with the feeling of positivity and bliss.

you know when these special people enter your life, and all of a sudden everything becomes more enjoyable. because of their presence in your life, things are fun again.

you want someone who will be a source of inspiration, and support for you. a person who can uplift and motivate you in the most rewarding manner.

i keep getting this feeling, you'd want your person to be someone who has this profound impact, where just talking to them can ease your mind and light up your day.

you'd want to have a lover whose voice brings you comfort, whose encouraging words become your source of confidence, whose presence gives you the feeling of enjoying to be alive.

i can sense you seeking to find this comfortable feeling of home in your lovers. someone whose warmth can make you feel safe, and secure.

i believe you're a person who's very introspective, someone who's constantly on this journey of self-discovery.

therefore you'd like a partner who will be supportive, and accompany you on that journey; someone who will be your companion in life, and help you understand yourself better.

you'd like an individual who will help you heal, grow, discover and proudly embrace your best, most confident self. someone whose positive energy is contagious and helps you thrive.

you want your lover to be reliable and resilient. someone you can lean on with no second thoughts. who will be there for you no matter what. a person who will take you with everything that you come with, and still remain loyal and devoted to you.

a person who, although they're passionate, knows how to control their temper, won't be discouraged by tough times, and remain committed and persevering, regardless of struggles you might go through together. you want your lover to be a like a rock in your life.

you do want someone who is fiery, powerful, charismatic, self-assured, knows what they want. you're likely to be drawn to people who have fire energy; a strong presence. people who are aware of their worth, and whose attendance can't be missed once they step into a room. but you don't want your partner to be too full of themselves, overbearing, or too intense.

you want them to be mature, trustworthy and responsible. a person you can build a stable, comfortable and secure, but also playful and joyous relationship with.

your future spouse

so, one aspect which you'll probably like to hear; your fs is likely to be quite mature, possibly older than you in age.

they're pretty powerful, disciplined and steady. the first impression they have on people, is likely to be quite strong.

they aren't a person who's overly emotional at first glance, and moreso carry themselves in an emotionally reserved and controlled manner.

your fs for sure has strong leadership qualities to them. they're good at commanding attention and demanding respect from the people around them. it's the type of energy that makes everyone in the room shut up, once they speak up. to note, they could also be quite stubborn, and opinionated at times.

another significant aspect though, is that they're immensely supportive and generous towards their loved ones.

this is a person who's likely to have a heart that is much more compassionate than what meets the eye. someone who, although they aren't always immensely expressive when it comes to their feelings, has a true heart for people in need.

your future lover is someone who's giving and generous. i can see their love languages leaning towards the acts of service and giving gifts side.

this person has a strong sense of justice, they're likely to be very fairminded. they don't like disharmony, and will be there to help out the underdog if they feel like they're being treated in an unjust manner.

i can see this person surprising people with how nice they can actually be, because they usually seem so serious, more stern and intimidating on the outside.

this is also a person, who values harmony and stability in their relationships, especially in their family-life. a person who fosters an atmosphere, that's secure and comfortable. i can sense them possibly being closely tied to their families.

if you get to know this person in a deeper manner, you'll take note of how they exude warmth, and a vibe that's very inviting and comforting, when they're around the people they love. someone vibrant who can easily be the center of attention.

it's kinda giving the family's favorite son (note; their energy is quite masculine) who everyone runs to greet, once they enter the room. a popular, charming and well-liked person whose energy can light the atmosphere up in a lively manner.

what's interesting, is that i did get the four of wands for both your ideal type, and your future spouse.

so, it's highly likely for them to be able to fulfill this wish you have, of finding a person who not only makes you feel comfortable and at ease, but also genuinely happy. like you've finally arrived at home once you're in their arms.

⋆˚࿔ pile 2 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

your ideal type

you're giving me wise, mindful and cautious energy. it does seem like you are someone who prefers testing the waters before jumping into relationships.

you're likely to collect information on people first, before fully giving in.. as in getting to know them thoroughly. by doing that, you're trying to get a good understanding of their character, and whether you can see them being a valuable addition to your life.

there's this observant energy to you, where you can take note of the smallest details in people. you probably like it when others are also able to compliment you on the small things not everyone would notice, like e.g. the perfume you're wearing that day.

you value mental compatibility. you want a person who's smart, fun, quick-witted, clever. someone you can have interesting, thought-provoking and intriguing conversations with. discussions that range from complex and profound ones that make you reflect, to playful ones that make you laugh.

you like honesty, and transparency. you don't want someone who will beat around the bush, walk on eggshells, or give you any mixed and confusing signals. you desire a trustworthy person who can be straightforward, and open with you.

a big focus here, is on expansion and transformation.

you'd like a person who will help you explore, as well as expand. especially mind-wise, by talking about subjects that make you introspect.

i don't think you mind your lover being very different to you, whether that's culturally, ethnically, language-wise or opinion-wise. on the contrary, you seem to believe that views, beliefs or mindsets that are different to yours to a degree, can have significant impact on your life, and help you evolve, which is why you're likely to welcome it.

there just needs to be compatibility when it comes to the path you're aiming to go down in the future. in your eyes, there does need to be a certain alignment in values, objectives and intentions, in order for the connection to work out.

you want a partner whose existence, rather than becoming a presence that distracts you from the important things in life, will help you be more self-aware.

you want someone who can help you transform and thrive into your best self. a presence that finally makes things seem clearer, and helps you feel whole, happy, warm and complete.

it's this feeling of “being with this person feels right. this is who i'm supposed to be with. their presence is healthy for me and my journey. instead of sidetracking me from my life-path, this is a person who will be supportive of me, and willingly hold my hand while i'm trying to heal from the past and understand what's right for my own life.”

again, i don't see you rushing into your relationships.

you're someone who looks at healthy connections developing in a slow pace, but steadily.

you want a person who will be patient, conscious and consistent in the effort they invest into the maintaining the security of the relationship, and taking things step by step.

some of you might've gone through some negative experiences in regards to relationships; not just romantic ones, but human connections in general. this might've caused you to become more wary and careful about how to proceed.

at this point, you've become adamant on making sure you don't let anyone into your life, who will bring any unwanted and unwelcomed negativity, that only drags you down.

a lot of focus on true happiness and fulfillment here too. you desire a person who can enrich and brighten your life, and keep your spirits high. someone who brings you a sense of joy.

you want to make sure you're with someone mature, righteous and self-aware, who makes healthy choices in life, is sure of what they want, and doesn't play games.

what it boils down to, is you liking someone who takes the relationship as seriously as you do.

this pile is giving scorpio/virgo/gemini/mercury energy

your future spouse

so first of all, i can see your future spouse being air-dominant. they're definitely big thinkers; someone who mostly functions with their mind, and bases a lot of their decisions on logic and rationality, instead of their emotions.

this is a person who's likely to match your desire for intellectual stimulation. they're funny and clever, very witty. likely to usually be quite blunt, and at times a little playfully snarky in the way they express themselves.

this pile definitely gave me the biggest “bickering” vibes. i feel like both you and your fs, are people who showcase their affection by teasing and provoking. it's giving this couple who bickers over trivial and little things. to others it might look like you're arguing all the time, but for you, it's the way you express fondness towards each other.

this person has such a continuously running and active mind, that they can be prone to overthinking and at times, diving into some problems way too deeply.

this is someone who's quite charismatic and attractive, i feel like they're physically good-looking. luscious hair, nice skin. perhaps more tan. great and blinding smile. good figure as well, they might be athletic, or at least look that way.

this person seems to have been through some impactful break-ups or separations before, which have messed their confidence up to a degree and transformed them. there were certain things they needed to let go of, and move on from.

one insight i keep getting, is your fs being someone who's much more dedicated, devoted and loyal to their romantic partners, than one would think at first impression.

i kept getting so many swords, but i couldn't shake this feeling there's a different side to them deep down. it just moreso seems buried down right now; i don't see it having many opportunities to come out, since i believe they're on more of an independent streak right now. and focused on healing before getting into another commitment.

so when i asked if they're out for longterm and committed relationships, i got the king of pentacles. this card represents a masculine and solid person who's stable, reliable, patient, faithful. they might not be the most extravagant and lovey dovey affectionate partner out there, but their devotion lies deep.

it's quite likely for their venus to be in an earth sign, perhaps taurus, or fall into the seventh house.

they do have a strong sense of responsibility, and are more self-aware than one would imagine. this person might come off differently, than they actually are deep inside. many people might misjudge or misunderstand them.

the type of person who everyone would look at as a player, when they're not. they might have a fire rising, actually. their energy kinda reminds me of jimin from bts, who's a libra sun and mercury, gemini moon, and sagittarius rising.

your fs isn't someone who just recklessly acts on a whim with no consideration for others and blindly lives according to their selfish instincts; but a person who does reflect about the impact their actions have on people, and can easily feel guilty for saying or doing the wrong thing at the wrong time.

again, there is something which gives them this harsh honesty in their communication. it's likely they aren't good at sugarcoating or attuning their words to anyone's emotions, so they might unintentionally rub some people wrong at times.

they're probably not very emotional themselves, so they could have trouble empathising with overly emotional individuals.

they mostly try to rationalize their feelings, because it can just.. get too overwhelming. your fs can have issues truly understanding what's going on inside of them.

they also give me the vibe of someone who might have the tendency to care a little too much about what people think, and get overly attached to people's opinions of them, though they probably wouldn't really like admitting this.

because of this, they're likely to moreso deal with their inner insecurities on their own, and putting on a “happier” facade than what actually goes on inside.

your future lover definitely seems like a person who's out for marriage. it's likely that it's one of their main objectives when it comes to their love life. finally finding a person they can make that everlasting promise to, and swear their eternal love to.

both, your fs and you, seem to be on journeys of healing past wounds right now. you have the potential to offer each other a lot of understanding and acceptance, since you do seem to share certain similarities, which can make for a deep bond.

just a gentle encouragement for you to not lose sight of your track and keep standing strong and tall, on your own two feet.

i feel that the universe is lying out the path for you two to meet, when divine timing deems you as ready.

note for this pile: i literally had a dream the night after reading about a guy who matches the energy i got here so so well, they were very charming and craaazy handsome.. they were speaking on the phone about something while laughing and sitting on a couch lol this is for sure someone talkative

⋆˚࿔ pile 3 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

your ideal type

worthy to note that this pile immediately, even before reading, gave me water energy.

i also kept feeling like i have my head in the clouds and am in a daze, i couldn't concentrate and focus as well while reading. a lot of you might have strong water placements, or significant neptune aspects. perhaps neptune in the first house?

i also got a lot of pentacles here, so you might feel yourself being drawn to earth placements. (thought of jay from enhypen who's a taurus stellium with a taurus venus and cancer moon, could see his energy matching you guys well)

anyhow, what you're looking for, is a partner who's fully focused on only you. someone who's gonna make you their world.. spoil you with thoughtful gifts, shower you with attention, turn you into the center of their universe.

you might even enjoy some possessiveness, and like the thought of your lover becoming jealous and territorial of you. you like the type of person who protectively keeps you at their side at all times, e.g. doesn't let go of your hand in public. you desire this feeling of security; like you're in the safest hands.

you want someone who will help you realize your true worth. a person who will strengthen your self-esteem.

you know this thing when you're dating someone, and there's this feeling of.. “wow, how does this person love me so much? guess i really must be something special”

you want someone to love you in such wonderful and profound ways, that it makes you become more aware of your value. someone whose perspective on you, makes you adjust yours as well. someone who looks at you as beautiful, which makes you feel beautiful.

you like people who are willing to fight for you. someone who's courageous, and not afraid of arguing or getting their hands dirty for you. you desire a lover who will place themselves in front of you in order to protect you fiercely. it is kinda giving this k-drama boyfriend who beats up other men once someone looks into the direction of their girl, lmao.

you're likely to enjoy the thought of having an older and more mature partner. perhaps someone taller than you in height, and broader than you in their build as well.

you want someone emotionally intelligent, who's empathetic. a person who's a calming and gentle listener. a lover who's more in control of their emotions and can therefore be a reliable figure in your life, that you can comfortably lean on.

you're a person who enjoys daydreaming, idealizing, fantasizing. it's likely you've already pictured and imagined what you'd want your perfect partner to be like several times and enjoy dreaming of your romantic 🥰✨ love story.

another insight i got, is that you're probably someone who enjoys the idea of taking pictures of your lovers, or getting your picture taken. making precious memories, taking these cute “pov” boyfriend/girlfriend material photos of each other, and both of you making it your lockscreen. sweet little signs of affection like that are likely to melt your heart.

you probably enjoy the thought of walking through the streets of beautiful and idyllic places together, maybe paris or tokyo with all the cherry blossoms, and feeling like you're on cloud nine together with your lover. i got reminded of how hyunjin and felix from skz used to walk around paris together with their cameras in their hands, and take pretty pictures of each other, like this.

you likely just love gently descending into this dream, of how lovely it could be if only you could spend enjoyable days like this together with your prince or princess charming.

the current transit of venus in pisces is definitely heightening this pile's energy

one thing i will say though, is that i do believe you wouldn't want your partner to completely sacrifice and drop everything for you. you'd like to have a lover who's good at juggling multiple priorities. someone who has good time management skills, and knows how to take care of several different areas of their lives. though of course, you'd like to be a big priority, and have them all to yourself once you're able to with them. you desire an endlessly devoted person, who will absolutely reserve a special time of the day for you two only.

i can see you liking your lover's love language to be physical touch, giving gifts and quality time. you probably love the idea of getting these dazzling and fancy gifts, like couple rings.

your future spouse

this person is very well put-together. they definitely carry themselves in quite a self-satisfied manner. likely to even give off a slightly arrogant vibe to people. a little bit like a person who sees themselves as very important and special.

your future lover is likely to be someone who's pretty good at handling heartbreaks. they have a lot of inner strength and resilience. contrary to what it might seem like, i don't think this person has always had the perfect and flawless life full of sunshine and rainbows; they've just developed thick skin over time. they're quite immune to pain now, because they've been able to grow and transform from their heartache.

people on the outside are likely to see them as someone who always has their shit together, and is very blessed. but again, that's just because your fs is good at dealing with their problems in a graceful manner. they aren't the type to make their inner struggles very obvious.

they also seem like a person who's pretty perfectionistic, which is a quiet but heavy burden they might carry on their back a lot.

feeling this constant need to display themselves in the best light only, not being sure if they can ever live up to anyone's expectations. they're likely to be quite hard on themselves.

the type of person to obsessively check every picture that was taken of them, out of worry they came out looking bad.

they are giving me “golden child” energy. i keep thinking of family somehow. they might feel a lot of pressure from their families, or their closer environment, to be perfect.

however, they also do give me slightly spoiled energy here. they might've grown up in a very protected environment, and have therefore been more shielded from certain “real world” problems the “normal” person has to deal with.

they could either come from a privileged family, be in a privileged position, perhaps through fame or wealth, or have grown up with overly protective and smothering parents. some of them could also just be spoiled only children.

this is likely to have led to them being rather inexperienced in some areas in life. i don't seem them as very narrow-minded though, on the contrary; they do seem curious and interested, as well as open and eager to exploring new things.

this is likely to be a person who isn't from your typical circle. there's a high likelihood for them to be a foreigner. you could either meet them online, like a dating app or social media, or while you're on a trip overseas of some sort.

very central theme for you two; being immensely interested in getting to know each other, considering you're so different.

it's this thing when you meet someone from a completely different background or with a very different lifestyle to yours, and naturally get curious about a variety of different things.

it can get quite fascinating, i can especially see your fs getting excited to hear about your everyday-stories. there is a childlike innocence to them. like this cute and youthful glow in their eyes when they're listening to something that intrigues them.

they're someone who's quite excitable and energetic, especially when they get to do fun and adventurous activities.

very likely for this person to have strong fire placements. i'm getting a sagittarius or aries moon or mars, perhaps.

the two of you are likely to hit it off quite fast, the chemistry is amazing. though i don't see the energy being romantic right away, there's this vibe of you two just clicking very well. beautiful harmony between you and your fs.

you could text a lot, or regularly meet up at café's together.

i also get this snowy and cozy fall and winter atmosphere with warm coffee vibes for some reason. this could be a significant factor for some of you. you're welcome to take whatever resonates with you personally, and leave the rest.

meeting up with this person is likely to uplift you in a beautiful way. this warm, cozy and fuzzy feeling i'm getting, is likely to relate to how you guys will feel when around your fs as well. it will be so comfortable, the conversation will flow naturally.

the existence of this person is likely to make you feel renewed. life will just seem brighter, more beautiful and pleasant.

you could feel this inner contentment, that makes many of your problems seem less dramatic, now that you have this special source of light by your side.

your fs is likely to find the same warmth in you guys as well.

the sun in the end is such a beautiful way to end the spread; think of how the sun makes you feel. warm, comfortable. it's also very vital in energy and healthy for you. that's how the dynamic between you and your fs is likely to play out.

thank you for reading ᰔᩚ i'd love to hear you guys' feedback on what resonated for you

[kekewrites]

tw. Dark content, noncon, dubcon, creampie, size kink, magic onahole/toy/fleshlight, coercion, mind-break, corruption, obsession, gaslighting(?), objectification(?)

part 2 of the onahole troupe

***

"Sweetie~ Are you already out? Come on, you can still keep going."

Hot... It's so hot.

Whining, your body continue to bounce on him, hole swallowing his fat cock. Sweat and cum staining your thighs, sticky and wet as it mixes with your juices.

Such a hot sight. His hands gripping your hips, helping you bounce on him and sometimes meeting your hips with his own, making you whine and sob.

You were so sensitive, having no idea how much time have passed. How many orgasm he pulled out of you.

"I'm helping you, remember?" He sat up, wrapping his arms around as he pulls you close. "Ha... You're so cute. That bastard won't touch you anymore, ok? I'm here."

Barely hanging on, you nodded as your ears started to ring. If there was still a rational part of you awake, you would've find his words suspicious, but you were just too dumb for that. Blindly trusting your friend, believing him with your being.

He promised to help you.

So why does it feel like you made the wrong choice?

That tiny rational thought of yours was pushed as you felt his lips on your own.

***

It was odd how the phantom disappeared after his help.

Your complexion improved, the shadows under your eyes fading as if the weight of their presence had been slowly draining you all along. Sleep came easier now, uninterrupted by restless nights and unwanted pleasure, able to focus studying without it whisking your attention away.

Sitting in class, you were finally able to listen without dreading for the touches.t was freeing.

You were glad you told him.

Smiling a bit, you open your cellphone as you think of hanging out with them. You really missed them, thinking about how you three rarely hang out nowadays. It used to be so easy to hang out with your closest friends, without having to plan anything elaborate. Just a quick text, and before you knew it, you were all together. But lately, it was about you two without your more or less busy friend. You know how much he took his studies seriously, often holding back to invite him whenever you discover a film you'd both like to watch.

Determined, you found yourself texting him, sending him a little message of, "Are you busy? Let's meet at the library when it's lunch time!"

You nervously shifted on your sit as you await his reply, a minute after you feel your phone vibrate.

"Sure."

You couldn't wait for the class to be over.

***

"Hey, what's up?" You heard his voice as he sat down beside you. Your usual hangout spot, comfort place, and your solace before those events happened.

Beaming, you turned to him, grateful for the simple presence of someone you're comfortable with.

"Are you done with your studies? I was hoping we could hangout soon, all three of us..." You speak, your confidence dipping down as you let out the last part.

Resting his chin on his hand, "Hmm... We have a quiz for next week in my major," He observes as your smile fades, "But I suppose, I'll make time for you," He swears it's like watching a dog wag its tail as he see you regain your smile.

It couldn't hurt to relax a little, it's been a while since you two hangout. He did notice how you were with that stupid guy in the past few days

You softly clap your hands, "That's great! Oh, we should do a movie marathon!" As you babble your plans, he couldn't help but notice how more... alive you look compared to before. He was still wondering why you were so troubled back then, but he's glad you got it solved out.

Humming, you started typing on the notes in your phone, making plans and listing movies to watch, throwing in snacks to buy as well. It was safe to say that you're really excited to be able to be with your best friends.

It would be just a fun night with the guys, right?

***

"Come on, don't be upset. Something probably important came out that he won't be able to come."

It seems that the three of you wouldn't be able to hangout, as the two of you sit on the couch.

Grumbling, you hug the couch pillow close to your chest as you glance at the text message left by your friend. It was upsetting but you couldn't be that upset since he rarely wasn't able to come in your hangout session, and since he's the one who helped you after all.

"Yeah, you're right. It can't be helped, I guess…" you sigh, trying to hide your disappointment as you sink further into his couch. The soft fabric and cozy atmosphere of his apartment help ease your mood a bit.

"I'm sure the three of us will meet up soon. Plus, the two of us haven't hangout for a while."

Come on, it's not so bad to be alone with him, you know?

"Yeah, that's true," you say, trying to shake off the disappointment. You steal a glance at him as he queues up a movie. It's been a while since the two of you just hung out alone like this, and despite the change in plans, it feels nice.

As the movie starts, you realize he accidentally picked a horror film—complete with dark shadows, creepy music, and plenty of jump scares. You’re both laughing it off at first, but the sudden shocks get you clutching the couch pillow a bit tighter, scooting unconsciously closer to him.

The atmosphere shifts when an unexpected scene appears—a moment that’s more... explicit than either of you anticipated. You feel your face heat up as you quickly avert your eyes, feeling a mix of embarrassment and tension settle between you. You catch him glancing away too, clearing his throat nervously.

What is he, five? Getting flustered with such scene, not like he hasn't done any worse than it.

"I... think I need to use the bathroom," he mumbles, standing up hastily and heading out of the room, leaving you alone on the couch.

You’re left there, pulse racing slightly as you try to shake off the awkwardness.

This is bad, you suddenly remember all of your other friend's help. Clutching your legs close, you try to avert your attention somewhere while waiting for your friend to come back.

Though, you felt your stomach drop as that familiar and unwelcome touch came up.

***

What the hell is he even thinking?

He tries to find his reason as he stares at the onahole on his hand, that idiot's gift to him. It's been a week since he had last use this thing, yeah it felt good and feels like the real deal but after one use he never touched it again.

So why the hell is he using it while thinking of you? The same girl who's sitting on his couch right now, in his apartment?

His eyes glance at the lube on the counter, putting the wet lotion on his free hand. It's your fault he got hard, you were too squirmy and... cute. That shitty horror movie wasn't even that good with the corny soft porn scenes but you... were just having an effect on him. So damn shy and innocent reactions, he needed to get out before he'd lost his composure and pounce on you.

But he's not a brute, no he isn't like those rabid animals.

Imagining does not count, no, no, he's only letting his frustration out.

So with the touch of his fingers, rubbing the entrance of the onahole he let himself go.

***

Jumping from the couch, you looked around frantically as you felt that horrifying touch on your nether region. 

That's impossible! You though he already fixed it!

Silently crying on your hands, you tried to keep your noises.

You've experienced that ghostly touch countless times however this time, it felt a bit calculative yet desperate, as if another entity was touching you. It felt weird but you can feel how different this one was touching you.

Is there another ghost who's harassing you?

Will it ever go away?

You cried as you felt something big goes inside you.

***

Shit, he forgot how realistic this onahole was. When was the last time he used it? Weeks ago? He doesn't remember but he might use it again now. Since his darling is always inviting him to hangout, this little gift might save him from pouncing on you when you're just a little too cute for his liking. Not only that but because of the hectic projects and assignments coming in, he hasn't had the time to relieve himself.

His thrust is fast and uncaring, yet a bit desperate for release. He felt himself feeling more sensitive as he imagine if this was your cunt instead, squeezing and twitching around his cock. He loves how automated this thing was, his mind just running wild as he imagines you sitting alone in his couch unsuspected of his vulgar and filthy thought of you. It's wrong but it damn this onahole just feels so right.

Slamming himself on the tight hole, he pinch the little clit and felt the walls squeeze tight making him come undone. Hissing and twitching as his cock shoots down his massive load inside the toy. What a waste, it would've been better if he could shoot it down your womb. Exhaling, he slowly pulled out of the toy, savoring the way the wall clung on his shaft before his head pops off.

Fuck. He's really a goner now. 

He's no better than a scumbag for letting his mind wander to thoughts about his best friend, his childhood friend… his first crush, his first and only love. He remembers how he was when you two first met—a boy who struggled to connect with anyone. He didn’t see the point in making friends, preferring to stay on the sidelines, reserved and detached.

Though, him, was the exception as both of their parents were business partners and have good relationship with each other. It's only natural for them to build a connection, solely for maintaining good connections with their business partners. Over time, he realized how strangely alike the two of them were, as if they shared the same quirks and preferences.

Well, he shouldn't think of that while thrusting his dick on a toy but he can't help but reflect on the way they are alike. He certainly knows, that guy shares the same affection he has on you, and he hated how he can't feel jealous because... he's fine with sharing you if it's him. But he's a little pissed at how you two were hanging out lately, he only have himself to blame by taking his studies seriously unlike that guy.

That's not important now, he has you in his room alone with no one else to ruin your moment with him. Shit, he felt the toy tighten around him.

His mind goes blank as he felt himself getting closer.

***

"Hey, sorry I took a while, but I'm... back?" he said, sitting down on the couch. His voice trailed off, quieter and confused, as he noticed you hugging yourself with your head hung low.

"What's wrong?" he asked immediately, placing a hand on your back as he tried to see your face. His eyes narrowed as he waited for your response, only to widen when he saw your tear-streaked face.

"I-It... touched me again..."

"What do you mean?"

And you broke down, crying as you told him about the phantom.

Any sane person would be skeptical, hell they would probably put you in the asylum for the things you swore happened to you. He'd get you help if it weren't for that one specific detail, an oddly timed and complete coincidence. Where that phantom touched you the same time he had gotten the toy... and the way it touch you just minutes later he went to the bathroom.

No way...

Surely, it was just a coincidence...

He supposed testing that theory wouldn't hurt.

With a lousy excuse of getting you a glass of water from the kitchen, he went straight to the bathroom to take that toy, sure it was big enough to be seen by you, but the way you were staring down on the floor as you quietly sob made it easy to sneakily place the onahole behind the couch pillow. Close for his hand to touch but unnoticeable from your teary eyes.

His hand goes behind the pillow right where the toy is.

"Ah!"

It can't be... Such an impossible story.

"J-Just now... it touched me!"

His finger went in.

"No! It went inside...!"

This is crazy.

He knows it's wrong but watching you panic and look around with frantic and terrified eyes made his cock throb. Not knowing that the source of your trouble being right in front of you made it immoral, so bad, and it made his cock harden.

"Hey, I'll... chase out that bastard for you." His wandering finger pulls out of the toy, his other hand cupping your tear stained cheek, "You don't have to worry anymore. You said that guy made that phantom disappear, right?" He sweetly cooed, a rare tone in his voice, "Just trust me on this one like he'd done with you, yeah?"

Your back gently hits the couch as he straddles you, "Be a good girl and relax, I'm just going to help you."

Doubt and wariness swirls in that doe eyes of yours. He can see the uncertainty in that stupid head of yours, but he knew you'd agree with him. You always do.

"O-Ok... Please help me."

And he's right about that.

You're just too trusting, aren't you? Stupid girl.

It's your fault he's like this to you.

All your fault.

There’s a faint metallic click as his belt buckle comes undone, and the soft rasp of fabric follows as he frees himself from his pants. His cock springs free, the swollen head brushing against your inner thigh. He can't believe he's finally doing this. The girl he ever wanted right beneath him, all bare and for him to ruin.

It's fucked up how he doesn't feel guilty for doing this, doesn't feel guilty as he rubs his tip on your wet entrance. Everything about you is soft, the only thing he's afraid to do is to bruise your pretty skin. He can feel your breathe quicken, you heart thumping in anxiety and he smiles at that.

"I'll be... gentle." For now.

The blunt head nudges against your entrance, the slick heat of your hole enveloping him inch by inch as he presses into you slowly. Fuck. It's completely different from a toy. He wished he'd done it sooner, the walls of your inside and the wall of the toy was like night and day. His cock pulses within them, the heat and tightness driving him to the edge of his patience. Hissing in pleasure as your walls clenched around him.

"So cute..."

With that, he leaned down, his lips pressing against you. His tongue invaded your mouth, claiming you, owning you, just as his cock claimed your body. He knows he should let you adjust and wait for you to be ready but hell he'd wait for more than a second. Setting a fast pace, fucking into you with abandon, his hand gripping your hip hard enough to leave bruises-- the one he was dreaded on doing. He panted, his head thrown back in ecstasy. 

If it were that easy, he should've done this sooner. Manipulated that stupid head of yours, your naivety being the one who'd get you in trouble when you were younger.

It was different back then when he was alone. Socializing was unnecessary and draining, didn't have any purpose or value to him. He supposed having one friend is enough, he didn’t have patience for others, especially kids his age who, to him, seemed immature and exhausting.

Then you came along with your bright smile, bold laugh, and endearing quirks. You weren’t stunning or wealthy, and your background was humble—a stark contrast to his world. And yet, every time you called him by that silly nickname you made up, something in his chest stirred, an ache he couldn’t ignore. A foolish girl, treating him as if he were just another friend, another kid to play with.

So why can’t he push you away? You're just like any other kid who wants his attention. So why is it so hard to say no to you?

You're the one driving him crazy. So you only have yourself to blame, this is only happening because you're letting him. You're the one doing this to your self.

He could feel the pleasure building, the pressure in his balls as he neared his release.

"Be my onahole, ok?" He demanded, his voice rough with lust. He needed to hear you say it, needed to know that you understood.

Your mind was swirling, head foggy as the pleasure was starting to mix with the confusion. As your cries grew louder, body writhing beneath him, he felt his own orgasm approaching. He could feel the heat building, the tingling in his toes as his balls drew up tight.

O-Onahole? What's that? What is he talking about?

"Everyday, you'll be my onahole." he panted, his words punctuated by the sound of flesh meeting flesh, the obscene squelch of his cock pumping in and out of your pussy. "I'll save you from that phantom, ok?"

I don't know anything....

"Ok?!" he warns, hips losing their rhythm as his climax approaches, "Shit...!"

"Ah! I-I will! I'll become your onahole!"

With a final, brutal thrust, he buries himself to the hilt inside, his cock pulsing as he empties himself deep in your womb. He holds you tight against his chest, grinding into you to prolong the waves of pleasure.

"Fuck, you're so good for me," He praises breathlessly, peppering your sweat-dampened neck with kisses. "Taking my cock so well, milking me dry. That phantom is gone now that I'm with you."

All you could feel was the light kisses trailing on your neck to your cheek and finally on your lips.

"One more time? I mean you are my onahole now."

***

"Wow, you didn't hold one bit eh?"

His eyes narrowed as he saw him standing on the door with a smug grin.

"What are you doing here? I thought you wouldn't be able to make it?" His tone accessory as he cleans up the aftermath, gently tucking in your passed out figure on the bed.

"So defensive for what?" He chuckles, sauntering as he glance at your peaceful fresh-fucked face. Such a lovely sight. He  licks his lips at that but for now you'd need to get your beauty rest after a rough day. "So, did 'ya like your present?"

"..."

"I'd take your silence as a yes then." Giggling, he places his hand on his shoulder, "I knew you'd like it I mean, we are similar in taste after all."

His jaw tightens before sighing in defeat, "Where did you even get that toy?"

"Oh, some shady website~! I was planning to buy another one but the website mysteriously disappeared!" He exaggerate his movements which earned a grimace from him.

"Shut up, you'll wake her up."

"No, she won't. You made her pass out, how ungentlemanly of you."

"Says you."

"Whatever, I came to ask you a question," His hand drop to his side, his smug smile still on but something sinister behind it, "So, we're going to share, right?"

The answer should've been obvious but it was hard to let the word out of his mouth. Was it pride or possession?

"Yeah..."

"I knew you'd say that."

"But I want her on Mondays."

"Oh brother, why pick the worst day?" He grunts in disappointment.

"Because it's the worst day, I need her on that day."

[hoshiina]

pairing: hoshina soushirou x gn!reader (no prns)

summary: in which he realizes you were the one for him

warnings: none i think !

wc: 1100

Hoshina wasn't a player. He wasn't one to say yes to everyone who came his way nor was he one to lightly pursue just about anyone who slightly interested him— not to mention he didn’t fall easily to begin with. He was a busy man in a dangerous line of work so having a relationship simply didn’t make sense most of the time.

However, this is not to say he hasn’t had a few relationships here and there. He loved those he dated, he really did. He did not believe in dating for the fun of it nor did he believe in starting a relationship he knew would end at some point, but subconsciously he tried not to get attached. He kept his distance and locked away his heart to keep from getting hurt. Was it unfair? Well yes, but he was scared. Everyone has something that terrifies them greatly, this just so happened to be Hoshina’s.

Yet, recently he could tell that something was different with you. It had only been a few months since you started dating, but he feared the shift in his feelings. He knew what it was— he knew very well, but as soon as he admitted it, it would be over. There’d be no going back for him. He knew he was being rather irrational, he knew that if he sat down and confronted these emotions he’d realize they weren’t that big of a deal, but he couldn’t. He’s never been able to.

However, while fighting this kaiju, it became plain obvious that he was simply in denial. 

It upset him how important you were to him, but more than that it upset him that he knew he was important to you. You had made it so painfully clear that he meant the absolute world to you and that broke him to pieces every single time.

To him it was easy being alone— he just had to make sure his job was complete before he died. If he could ensure everyone’s safety or at least help Mina out, there was nothing more he wished for. Yet while fighting Kaiju no. 10 today, when he saw his life flash before his eyes, his immediate thought was of you. If he died you’d cry. And that alone was going to get him home alive.

He’d rather die than make you cry. Especially not alone.

As he stood up again, he could see his blood dripping from his wounds and immediately it made him chuckle. You’d cry anyways when you see the state he’s in. 

I’ll have to be around to wipe your tears at least, he said to you in his head.

He was incredibly lucky that you didn’t work on the battlefield, his heart simply would not be able to take it. But he did, and for you he’d have to get home safe. Even if no one else cared that much, not even himself, he knew you would.

All of a sudden, it was easy to admit. He was hopelessly in love with you, in a way he didn't know he was capable of. He wished that he would spend the rest of his life with you and he hoped you would spend the rest of yours with him. Perhaps he was just afraid and a little flustered to admit that he was important to someone, especially someone special to him too. He had seen how painful it was for those left behind, a little too often. 

But there was an easy solution to that, he’d just get back to you safe every time. He just won’t make you worry and he’ll be there for you. This was supposed to be a dilemma, something he thought he'd stress over, but in the moment he felt eerily relaxed, definitely not like he was fighting an identified grade kaiju. The rest of the fight was a blur, he couldn't remember much. His head was clear but the fatigue had taken over at that point, but before he knew it, the kaiju laid in front of him still.

He was faintly conscious as they rushed him into an ambulance and patched him up. Once he was properly treated and awake, they had warned him to stay put and take it easy, but all he wanted to do was see you.

As soon as he left his assigned room, he immediately bumped into you. You had been waiting to be let in to see him. You took one look at the way he was patched up and tears welled into your eyes. He could tell you didn't mean to, you didn't want to worry him.

“Please don't cry,” he said softly, wiping your tears away. He couldn't help but smile at the sight of you. “I'm perfectly fine.”

“I'm not crying,” you said with a scowl on your face, but the way your voice cracked was not very convincing. “I'm so glad you're back.”

“Can't live without me?” he teased. He knew you couldn't live without him, but he couldn't either. Yet, now he even hated the thought of you living without him, let alone with someone else, so here he was. And here he always will be.

“Shut up,” you said. “You know I can't.”

He knew, but hearing you say that still made his heart flutter. He reached out with his right hand to grab your left and held it carefully. He leaned in to kiss you, but it was so much sloppier than the careful ones he usually gave you. Forgive him, he was terribly exhausted.

“I can't either,” he said, snuggling his face into your shoulder.

“You can't?” you asked, a little surprised. It broke his heart that he had possibly made you feel such way.

“Not for a second,” he said, still avoiding eye contact. “I'd rather die than wake up without you next to me, actually.”

You wouldn’t reply, so he brought his head back up to look at you.

“Oh, don't cry,” he said and chuckled a little, wiping your tears away as he kissed you again. “I didn't mean to make you cry.”

He hadn't let go of your hand and although he was gentle, he held it firmly. He didn't say anything, but he vowed to himself that he'd put a ring on it someday. He wasn't letting go of you ever.

You were the one for him.

[alllgator-blood]

FINISHED THAT ONE COMIC I POSTED ABOUT ALMOST 30 FULL DAYS AGO?? I FINALLY REMEMBERED IT EXISTED AND FINISHED IT. I HAVE SO MUCH I WANT TO SAY ABOUT MY LAMB NOW THAT THEY'RE FINALLY THE MAIN CHARACTER IN A LONG COMIC, BUT it went on forever so I put it below the cut.

While we're above the cut, I have a bunch of REALLy good asks I'll be trying to draw for soon. But keep an eye out for a poll coming up soon...cause now that this is out of the way, I want another big project to have in the background and I have Big Ideas for Big Angst Comics........

OH YOU CLICKED THE THING, NICE. OKAY. SO:

Have I ever talked about how my lamb works?? I need to do more with them but I'm a bishop enjoyer to an obsessive degree. The lamb operates on the same kind of level as kallamar did during the breakdown comic, but on a more permanent, more stable level. After being told to hide for their whole life, to never show their face and not even being given a name......being beheaded by four gods and recruited by a fifth forgotten one who claims they're the Chosen One just made the lamb think "OH! None of this is real. My brain wanted me to feel important before I died, and this is my dying vision. Okay, I'll play along >:)" and now they're the equivalent of when you beat a game and replay it while picking the funniest/worst options to see what'd happen.

USUALLY their decisions are clouded by the assumption that nothing they do actually matters, but they're still......a person who held things dear and had standards while they were alive. So they love hijinx, but aren't like leshy who launches people out of catapults for fun, or kallamar who sees mortals more as lab rats than people living their own lives. They'll do some things for the lolz but their humanity definitely shows through when dealing with someone like shamura.

I think they went into the bishop slaying quest wanting to hate shamura, assuming they were an irredeemable antagonist that deserved to be vanquished. They were told by narinder that shamura was the big bad, so they figured there was nothing to it beyond that. But then they actually MET shamura, who wasn't at all what they were expected to be. Every other bishop is just like "RAHH I'LL KILL YOU" when you meet them, and then shamura is the only person who actually tells you about what happened, speaks to you like a person and not an obstacle, and doesn't seem bothered about the fact they're going to die. So that got them thinking....hmm...perhaps these people are slightly more realistic than I anticipated. Still gonna kill them tho

I'm not sure the lamb hates the bishops, especially after the realization that they're a fucked up family acting out in desperation rather than logic. When you're born into circumstances you know will eventually doom you (like being a sacrificial lamb destined for slaughter) you kinda...lose the ability to care after a while. They don't really *forgive* the bishops for the slaughter of their people, and definitely enjoy bullying them and kicking them around now that they're powerless mortals- but the initial horror of being born to die has subsided. Now that they're presumably in some kind of afterlife, and have better, more fun things to move onto now that they're the ruler of everything- it's not worth it to hate those five forever.

I think *because* the lamb has only been a god very briefly and still remembers mortality well, that's why they're the one god who does things "because they're funny" but also is respectful of people like shamura. It's like when you're playing GTA V and you accidentally drive over a dog while trying to pull over and look at it closer. Is it a real dog?? No but you're still gonna feel bad!! So like I said, in the lamb's mind they have NO reason to care about any of these people or show them mercy, but the fact that they're not as detached from mortality as the bishops were makes them a benevolent god. I'll be doing a comic about this very subject in the future and it WILL be depressing >:)

Also. Unrelated. But if you read this far, I feel the need to justify why heket and leshy suddenly have boobs in this comic. I'm sure it's obvious that I headcanon the gods don't have sex characteristics cause like...why would they need those. I don't want to draw that. But as MORTALS they would probably need to have all their organs intact to function properly, so pour one out for shamura + leshy who probably completely forgot they were transgender until they woke up in mortal bodies. NOT SURE HOW KALLAMAR WOULD REACT, I think they're more just horrified they lost all their tentacles

I debated doing another silly comic about the concept but I don't want this blog to get too raunchy, so instead have this epic ms paint art (I CAN MAKE THESE JOKES, I'M AFAB TRANS I DESERVE THIS ONE THING)

[theplotdemandsit]

When Five finally makes it back home with his siblings, finally makes it back to the right timeline, he finds he’s still holding his breath. 

“Is it really over?” He thinks out loud. 

“I guess there’s only one way to find out,” comes Luther’s response. 

So they do. And everything seems…normal?

But as much as Five wants to sleep for ten days straight, he can’t help but feel on edge. He spends his time visiting each sibling, popping in for dinners or briefly making sure they haven’t felt anything out of the ordinary. One day Allison asks him if he actually wants there to be an approaching apocalypse. His eyes fall onto Claire who’s catching him up on High School Musical the Musical the Series.

“No,” he answers. “I really don’t.” 

They make time for family dinners every Sunday. They still bicker and maybe swing some fists every now and then, but everyone is fast to apologize and laugh again. With room to breathe again without high stakes, the hurt finally begins to heal. They had been family before, but it slowly begins to feel like a real family. 

And for the first time, they really get to know each other. For all the crap they gave Luther about the moon, they listen as he shares the misery and loneliness and betrayal he felt. Allison describes her time as a Black woman in the 60s without her voice. Literally. Viktor tells them about what it was like growing up powerless only to end the world twice. How he lost his memory and found the one he loved only to lose that too. 

Klaus manifests Ben (who is still a ghost but as alive as he could get) and together they tell of their adventures growing up and the cult Klaus accidentally created. In between laughs, they also learn about Klaus’s harrowing experiences with drugs and death.

And Five? He has over 40 years of stories, and at first he doesn’t want to share any of it. His time in the Apocalypse, his time in the Commission, murdering for the sole purpose of survival in order to get back to his family—it’s not a side to him he wants his family to know about. 

But at the same time for reasons he can’t explain, he does want them to know. For the first time, he wants to talk to his family, the family he worked tirelessly to save. 

Little by little, he does just that. Every now and then he will start a sentence with, “Back in the Apocalypse…,” during dinner or his visits with them. Silly ones at first, like the time he had the nasty Twinkie. The time he sang all the Beatles songs he could remember and pretended he was having a concert. The time he found Umbrella Academy action figures and reenacted missions with them. 

When it’s just him and another sibling, he starts sharing some of the hard stuff too.

He tells Allison how he starved during his first winter alone and hallucinated that she had helped him find food. When he woke up he found himself in a storage house full of canned goods and bawled his eyes out.

He tells Diego about the first time he killed someone. How the scariest thing was that he wasn’t shaking. 

He tells Viktor how he sometimes still wonders if he deserves everything he got for messing with time in the first place. How he’s afraid that one of these days he’ll wake up and be alone again.

He tells Klaus about the time he thought about giving up and ending it all. 

He tells Luther about Dolores. About how even though he knew he was crazy for talking to a mannequin, Dolores was the better part of him that salvaged his sanity.

He tells Ben (and Klaus, by default) that his biggest regret is not being there. That he tries not to think about how things might have been different if he’d stayed.

Slowly, slowly, bit by bit, the tension eases from his shoulders. He stops worrying so much about the world ending and how to keep everyone alive. Instead, he spends his time going to the park with Claire, helping Diego and Lila with the babies, having midnight food outings with Klaus, and listening to Viktor play his music.

At their weekly family dinner, Luther tells Five he has a present for him and pulls out a box of Twinkies, saying, “I know you want to try one.”

Five gives him a practiced glare and says, “I would rather swim in a pot of boiling oil.”

Before, his family might have stared at him like he grew two heads, but now they laugh and think his retort is hilarious. Luther opens the box and pulls out a bag of marshmallows instead, and Five can’t help but crack a smile. 

One day they ask him what his plans are—what’s next for the oldest sibling.

Five warms his hands on a hot mug of coffee. “I’m tired of thinking about the future,” he tells them. “Right now, I just want to spend time with my family.”

That earns him plenty of “aww”s and “You’re such a softie, Five.” He waves them away and tries to duck out of their hugs, but they get him in the end. And even if he could teleport, he doesn’t want to.

He hadn’t been looking for happy, but he found it anyway.

Now cross-posted on Ao3 under the same handle!

[luxaofhesperides]

Soulmark AU + Sleeping Beauty ; requested by @candeartist422!

For the last few years, Duke’s been waiting for his soulmate to die.

It sounds cruel to say it that way. But the waiting is more painful, he thinks, than just mourning a lost love. It’s not like most people ever meet their soulmates anyways; his parents weren’t meant to be, but they still loved each other and had a life together. He wishes he could turn his focus away from his soulmate, but Duke is a romantic at heart and has always wanted to find the other half of his soul.

But since he was fourteen, his soulmark has dulled, fading in and out of color. What was once a vibrant blue crystal star, with eight points and a swirl of watercolor hues around it, dimmed more and more until Duke was sure he was watching his soulmate die slowly. 

His soulmate didn’t die then. Whoever they are got better, his soulmark gaining color, but it never went back to the way it was. For years after, Duke would check at the beginning and end of each day, keeping track of when it faded and when it regained its color. 

He thought his soulmate was sick. In and out of hospitals, fighting to stay alive.

And then it went nearly colorless. 

Duke doesn’t remember much about that day. He knows he woke up, brushed his teeth, the lifted up his shirt to check his soulmark in the mirror. The blue was almost completely gone, the star on his left hipbone nearly gray with how colorless it was. He started at it for a moment, shocked, and reality slid away from him as he retreated into the safety of his mind, fully dissociating. 

Bruce had found him when Duke didn’t show up for breakfast. He held him and offered quiet words of comfort that Duke couldn’t understand, but just having someone with him lessened the hurt of losing his soulmate. 

Seeing the color come back the next day, faint as it was, hurt even more.

A year later, Duke still can’t break the habit of checking his soulmark twice a day. It hasn’t changed at all, still faint and dim, but carrying just enough color to show that his soulmate was still alive. At the very least, they were still breathing, but his chance of ever meeting them is basically zero. Still, he can’t help but hope, wishing that he could meet them even once before they die and leave him forever. 

“Same as ever,” he murmurs to himself as he brushes his thumb against his soulmark. He’s terrified that he’s forgotten how beautiful the blue of it was when his soulmate was healthy. 

Duke doesn’t let himself think on it too much anymore. Though his thoughts often turn to his soulmate during quiet moments like these, the busy nature of Gotham is usually more than enough to pull his attention back to the here and now. There’s no use in obsessing over his soulmate anyways; they’re just going to die, sooner or later, and Duke knows he’ll never get to meet them. They’ll just be another empty space in his life, right next to his parents. 

“Come on, Thomas, focus,” he tells himself firmly, then gets dressed and heads down to the kitchen for breakfast.

The manor is quiet. It usually is in the mornings, with everyone from the night shift dead asleep and trying to get as much rest as they can before they have to start their day. Not that many of them stay in the manor these days; Duke and Damian are the only permanent residents at the moment, but Steph usually stays half with her mom and half in the manor during the summers when she’s home from college, and the others drop in whenever they feel like it. 

Bruce lives more in the Batcave than the manor, so he doesn’t really count. It’s also why Duke is surprised to see Bruce awake and dressed like a normal person, drinking coffee in the kitchen as if this is a normal occurrence. 

“Morning,” Duke offers.

“Good morning, Duke,” Bruce replies. “Sleep well?”

“Well enough. Alfred out or something?”

“He may have kicked me out of the Batcave to clean it up a bit,” Bruce answers tiredly. “Want me to make breakfast?”

Duke has heard the horror stories of Bruce’s attempts to make edible food in a kitchen. In the interest of not dealing with food poisoning, Duke shakes his head quickly and says, “Nah, it’s fine. I was kinda wanting to eat out for breakfast. Get out there as me, and not a mask, you know?”

“Mind if I join you? Alfred may forgive me for not sleeping if I willingly go outside.”

Duke laughs. “Sure man, as long as you pay.”

“I’ll drive, too.”

“What, don’t trust me behind a wheel?”

Bruce gives him a tired look, eyes dead and dull. “I have taught all my children how to drive. The day I willingly let them take the wheel when I am not actively dying is the day I’ve been replaced by a robot clone of myself who doesn’t know better yet.”

“That is… very specific. Is that a thing you usually worry about?”

“I’m Batman. I have to worry about everything.”

Yeah, that tracks. Duke wouldn’t be surprised if he has at least five contingency plans for that scenario, should it ever happen. “Well,” he says, “Right now, all you need to worry about is having your wallet and driving us down to The Foodie Nook. I’ve been craving their breakfast plates for ages.”

Bruce doesn’t object to his choice of restaurant and follows Duke down to the garage, grabbing a random set of keys and pointing it out to the many cars he owns. One near the front blinks its lights as it unlocks and Duke cheerfully tosses himself into the passenger seat as Bruce opens the garage door. 

The drive into Gotham is smooth. They don’t hit traffic until they reach the bridge that leads into the city proper, taking them away from the quiet of Bristol. The morning is busy, but not enough that Duke worries about being out as the Signal to help keep the peace. It’s a normal type of busy, one borne from people going about their lives, feeling safe enough to go out. 

The Foodie Nook is entirely local and very popular, so the parking lot is nearly full. But they expanded their space last year, which means he and Bruce don’t have to sit outside while they wait to grab a table. Bruce keeps conversation light and casual, well aware of the many listening ears around them, and it’s nice, feeling normal for once. 

Well, as normal as life can be with Bruce Wayne™. The server who comes to lead them to a table realizes who she’s talking to after she gets a proper look at them while holding open the door and promptly stutters over her words. 

“No need for any special treatment,” Bruce laughs lightly, “We’re just here for breakfast. Nothing special.”

“Of course,” she replies, cheeks red. “Um, right this way! We’ve got a table by the windows for you. Just two, yeah?”

“Yup! Just two. Thought this was a good day to spend some time with Duke. He’s a great kid, you know, I’m glad I was given the opportunity to foster him.”

The sunny, cheerful Bruce Wayne persona is so different from the usual Bruce he works with that it feels like he’s standing next to a stranger. But his words are sincere and warm his heart, filling up the gaps that his soulmate has left. 

“Here you are!” their server announces, showing them to their table. “I’ll be right back with some menus.” She’s gone in a rush, and other customers glance over before quickly averting their gaze. 

It’s one of the unspoken rules of Gotham: give the Waynes their privacy while they’re out in public. Questions and conversation are for public events only, but if they see a Wayne out and about during a normal day, everyone leaves them be unless spoken to first. Duke used to follow those rules as well when he was just another Gothamite. It’s strange being on the other side of that now that he’s in with the Waynes.

Duke barely has to look through the menu when it’s handed to him. The breakfast plates are his favorites and he gets one every single time he comes to The Foodie Nook; stacked full with breakfast foods from around the world. As a kid, he loved the Mexico Plate, but these days he’s craving either the Brazilian Plate or the Vietnamese Plate.  

He can’t decide on which one and thinks about tossing a coin to decide, but seeing how that’s Two Face’s whole thing, he decides to hold off and settle the matter with eenie-meenie-minnie-mo. 

He gets the Vietnamese Plate.

Bruce, on the other hand, reads through the entire menu like it’s a novel, then leans over and says rather loudly, “Duke, what’s a tort-illa.” 

The pain he feels hearing that is only worsened by the amusement in Bruce’s eyes. He’s doing it on purpose, playing up the Brucie act for the public so he can psychologically torment Duke. A few nearby customers choke back laughter, turning away to hide their smiles. 

Duke shakes his head and says, “Don’t worry about it. It’s just food. Don’t ask any more questions, I just want a peaceful breakfast.”

“Well then,” Bruce replies, “I suppose I know what to order now.”

As if she was summoned, their server reappears before them, cheeks still looking a little flushed. “Hi! Ready to order?”

She writes down their orders quickly, valiantly keeping a straight face at Bruce’s mispronunciation of tortilla, then heads off to deliver their orders to the kitchen. 

Rather than draw out a conversation with Brucie Wayne, Duke settles for playing a few idle games on his phone; his current favorite is one quiet cat cafe game where he directs cats into fulfilling cafe orders. 

Bruce, despite being out in his civilian identity, is working. He’s on his Batman phone, which looks the same as his other cell phones except this one has a bat symbol sticker just barely hiding a Superman sticker on the phone case. His brow is slightly furrowed as he reads whatever file he’s accessing from the Batcomputer. It’s a little worrying but it could be anything. Bruce makes the same expression when he reads one of Tim’s snarky comments getting quoted in the news.

But that’s not Duke’s problem! He’s here to enjoy his breakfast and it will take the end of the world itself to remove him from his seat before he’s done eating.

The game takes most of his attention until their food comes out, and by then Bruce has tucked away the smallest of his Batman mannerisms. They enjoy a normal, peaceful breakfast. Bruce ends it by asking their server if she has any debt that’s weighing her down, then giving her a tip that’s at least five thousand dollars above that. 

She does cry and Bruce hugs her. It’s very sweet. 

As soon as they get back into the car, his easy going smile drops and Duke knows some superhero nonsense is about to take over his day. 

“Duke,” Bruce starts, seriously, “I received a message from Zatanna.”

“Don’t drag this out,” Duke says, “Just give it to me straight. What terrible thing is about to happen to us?”

“It’s nothing too big. They just recently defeated a magical being who had been tearing apart secret government facilities in Illinois. He had both magic and a high tech weapon, which they confiscated and are delivering to me. The government agency he was fighting was suspiciously interested in the weapon, and based on their behaviors and newly revealed work, Zatanna made the decision to turn the weapon over to us so it doesn’t fall into the wrong hands.”

Bruce smoothly merges into traffic as he speaks, getting them onto the road back to the manor. There’s a look in his eyes that means he’s keeping a lot unsaid, and Duke knows without a doubt that whatever this government agency was doing is bad if Zatanna needs Batman to act as extra security. 

He’s not sure about her decision to trust the weapon to be safe in Gotham, either. Sure, Batman will keep it as safe as he can, but with their luck, it’ll end up in the hands of a Rogue and lead to a lot of death and destruction. 

As soon as they cross the bridge and return to Bristol, Bruce steps on the gas and the car tears down the road. Without any other cars to worry about (or traffic laws), it takes barely two minutes to reach the manor, when the gates open for them and let them into the garage. 

Alfred waits for them by the door, looking them over with a critical eye. “I see you have managed to go outside, Master Bruce. What’s the special occasion?”

“Just breakfast,” Bruce answers. “I’m heading back down to the Batcave. Zatanna will be here soon to deliver a weapon.” He’s gone before Alfred can say anything more, hurrying down the hall and turning the corner, disappearing from sight as he heads towards his office. 

“I see we have yet to break that bad habit of his. Did you enjoy your morning out, Master Duke?”

“Sure did, Alfred. I’m, uh, also going down to the Batcave. He’s definitely not telling me a lot about what’s going on, so I’m just going to read about it over his shoulder. I’ll be back up for lunch, though!”

“And perhaps you’ll be able to drag Master Bruce away from that cave of his,” Alfred comments wryly as he walks with Duke towards the office. He gives Duke a nod, then splits away from him, returning to the kitchen where Duke can hear Damian speaking to someone, probably Tim by the annoyed tone of his voice, and mentally wishes Alfred luck in handling them.

Duke sets the correct time on the clock in Bruce’s office and heads down to the Batcave, taking the steps two at a time. 

Bruce is already at the Batcomputer, shoulders tensed, when he arrives. 

“More bad news?” he asks as he makes his way over.

Bruce doesn’t bother looking away from the screen as he says, “More details about the fight. It seems the magical being called himself a ghost and was going on a rampage due to a betrayal. He says they nearly killed his son.”

“Oh, yikes.”

“And two of the scientists working with the government agency said that he stole their son and is keeping them from saving him.”

“Yikes,” Duke says with more feeling.

He doesn’t get to hear anymore details about JLD’s fight with this ghost when he catches a flicker in the corner of his eye. Duke turns and stares at the empty space in the Batcave near the medbay and watches as colorful magic gathers and swirls in dizzing circles. The portal opens a moment later and Zatanna steps out, looking exhausted and lightly singed. 

“Batman,” she greets, holding a white gun that looks like it belongs in an early sci-fi movie from the 60s. “The GIW is trying to arrest us. Constantine keeps burning their badges and documents so it shouldn’t be a problem, but they are determined to get this back. I wouldn’t be surprised if they came after you next. They’ve got some way of tracking things, but I didn’t have time to get any details before I had to leave.”

Bruce takes the gun from her hands carefully, looking it over with a sharp gaze. “Why would a ghost want to use a gun?”

“I don’t know. He had a variety of powers, too.”

“What does this do?”

“Shoots ice. He never let it go and nearly burned me alive for taking it before we subdued him.”

“We’ll keep it locked up,” Bruce promises. 

Zatanna sighs. It looks as though a physical weight fell off her shoulders. “Thanks. I’m going to head back to stop Constantine from getting into a fistfight with the GIW agents.”

She opens another portal with a waved hand and a muttered spell. Bruce is already walking away to set the gun down on a work station, so Duke is the one to wave Zatanna goodbye. 

By the time he reaches Bruce’s side, the gun is already dismantled, all pieces neatly set aside. Sticky notes denote which pieces go together and in what order. It looks the same as most guns, save for the aesthetic, but the heart of it is a glowing blue orb, large enough to cover the entirety of Bruce’s palm, and it brings a chill to the air.

Duke stares at it and feels his soulmark burn ice cold.

“Duke?”

It’s in his hands. He doesn’t remember reaching out to take it, but it’s in his hands. He can’t take his eyes off of it, cradling it gently and bringing it closer to his chest. 

It’s the same blue his soulmark once was. Before his soulmate began to fade, before every day became a waiting game to see how long his soulmate will last before they die. 

This has something to do with his soulmate. He’s sure of it. 

He won’t let anyone take it from him. 

“Duke. Give that to me.”

He doesn’t feel like he’s in his body. He’s detached, floating somewhere outside his body, puppeteering his limbs, making them move without feeling the motion. Shadows condense around his feet and Bruce takes a step back, wary. 

“Duke,” he says again, but Duke can’t find any words, can’t draw on his voice, can’t even look away from the bright, bright blue of the orb. It pulses lightly in his hand like a heartbeat. 

Bruce reaches a hand out. 

He’s pulled back by shadows before he can get close, and Duke holds the orb against his chest, right against his heart, and feels the cold seep into him. 

“Duke. I need you to look at me.” This time, Bruce’s voice has Batman’s growl in it, a heavy command that he can’t help but instinctively follow. He looks up and meets Bruce’s eyes, but he can’t focus. All his awareness is in his hands and the heartbeat of the glowing orb.

“I have to protect this,” Duke manages to whisper. “I… I think it’s alive.”

“Okay. Let’s get you to the medbay so you can sit down. We’ll figure this out, Duke.”

Bruce slowly, carefully, sets his hand on Duke’s shoulder. He keeps his attention away from the orb, so Duke allows it and lets Bruce guide him to the medbay and onto one of the medical cots. Bruce leaves him after a minute of quiet fussing, muttering about calling Zatanna.

Whatever. None of that matters when the heartbeat of the orb grows stronger, steadier, and Duke feels it match the beat of his own heart.

Time slips away from him. Distantly, he hears people move around the cave, speaking in low tones. A hand presses against his shoulder, warm, then moves away. 

The orb in his hand moves. 

Duke blinks slowly, then claws his way back to awareness, pushing past the haze that’s fallen over his mind. The orb turns over in his hand, then cracks right down the middle. The glow grows stronger, washing the medbay in blue light and a symbol appears on the orb.

It’s his soulmark. 

Later, he won’t be able to say why he did it. There were no thoughts, no reasonings, no explanations. Duke simply moved on instinct and lifted the orb up to his face and pressed a soft kiss against it. 

One moment, the orb was still.

The next, it had burst in a flash of light that blinded everyone in the Batcave, and then a thin, injured teenager had fallen into Duke’s lap. 

Hands immediately grab him, pulling him away from Duke. The teenager puts up no fight, eyes barely open, but he reaches for Duke weakly. On his wrist is the bright blue snowflake, the color strong and vivid. 

“That’s me soulmate,” Duke whispers as he watches Bruce and Tim set the boy down on another medical cot. 

“What?” Tim says, turning to face Duke, concern clear on his face. 

“That’s my soulmate,” he repeats, louder. Then, panicked, he pulls up his shirt enough to see his own soulmark; the color is still dull, weak, barely there, but it’s more blue that it has been in a while. He doesn’t need to say anything. Tim sees the dullness of his soulmark, looks at the boy, and puts the pieces together on his own.

“I’ll call Doc Thompkins,” he says, already moving to fix everything. Bruce remains where he is, making sure the boy is tucked in and breathing steadily before he returns to Duke. 

“Are you alright?”

Duke swallows roughly, unable to tear his eyes away from the boy. He’s pale and thin, as if he’d been starved, and there’s frost beginning to spread on the bedsheet from his fingers. “He’s my soulmate,” Duke manages to say. “He’s been dying for two years.”

Bruce’s eyes a hard, a determined light in them. “We’ll save him,” he promises. 

If anyone can, it’s Batman. 

If anyone can, it’s them, Batman and the Signal, and their entire network of family and friends. 

Duke’s been waiting for his soulmate to die all this time. Now, he’s going to save him.

[after-witch]

Points of No Return [Yandere Geto x Reader]

Title: Points of No Return [Yandere Geto x Reader]

Synopsis: You run into someone from your old life and it shakes you into making a decision you might regret. Companion piece to Bait, Fever Pitch and Bus Stop.

Notes: yandere, kidnapped reader, Stockholm syndrome; mentions of physical and mental abuse, mentions of pregnancy

The town is hustling and bustling. It looks a little different every time you visit. New banners, new shops, an endless sea of revolving faces that you barely remember once you’re back home.

Here, in the outdoor market, there is a sense of thrumming aliveness that keeps your thoughts dancing from one step to the next. Should you go to this stall, or that one? Stop for a bite to eat? Check out new wares? A dress for yourself, bracelets for the girls, a book for him–or not? There’s too much. Too many people, too many choices. It makes it hard to concentrate. 

But then a squeeze to one your hands--Nanako and Mimiko on either side of you, the three of you making quite the trio on a trip--brings you back the ground.

“We’ll go look for our gifts,” the girls say, smiling. “You should look for something new to wear to the party.”

You smile and wave them off and turn towards the nearest stalls with fabrics and kimonos hanging up for sale. The outfit should be elegant, but understated. That’s what the girls told you, which means that’s probably what Geto told them.

An outfit appropriate for his birthday party.  

You’ll find something here, that’s certain. With this many stalls, and the amount of money allotted for the trip. 

The city was shocking, the first time you were allowed to visit again. You didn’t stay long–a panic attack took care of that. It was too much in a horribly overwhelming way, and you’d buried yourself against his chest and asked to leave. 

Of course, Geto had been with you then. It took a year for the girls to convince him to let you come only with them–a girls’ trip. And here, now, years down the line, you didn’t even need to beg and plead. It was a matter of fact: the girls were taking you shopping, and you’d go home to Geto, and that was that.

Sure, it’s still overwhelming; but not in a way that leaves you breathless. It does make you long to go home, to sweep into Geto’s private quarters, to relax in that space which has finally become warm and inviting to you. A sanctuary, away from his followers, away from any sense of the greater world out there.

It would be nice, to go home later today. To be with him. To have him hold you and kiss you, to simply sit quietly at his feet while he reads. He was kinder, now. In his own way. Long gone are the days of punishments, of scoldings, of that awful bitterness that kept you from truly feeling alive. 

And–just when did that happen? That sense of normalcy–happiness, even?--with him. With your life.

Your fingers fumble with the fabric you’re holding and there’s a few awful moments where the world wants to spin, but simply stands stationary instead and makes you feel its terrible crushing weight. You want to take it back, those thoughts; want to simply go about your day like everything was normal, and fine, and–

Someone calls your name. Someone close.

It’s not the girls. It’s a man. A man’s voice, but who, and why, and how long has it been since anyone has said your name that hasn’t been Geto or the twins or one of his followers? 

Your name, again. Spoken softer, but breathier. Like he’s shocked. Surprised. But pleased? 

You turn slowly, your brain whirring into action, putting forgotten puzzle pieces back together as it pulls from deep within the foggy recesses of your memories.

The voice. The mole on his cheek, the curve of his jaw. The color of his eyes. It’s yanked from deep within your mind, sticky taffy that barely wants to come up–but it does and he does and you know this man.

“Kenji?”

It tastes sour, this man’s name on your lips–a name that isn’t, for the first time in years, his.

The muted shock within you is like wet sand, being scooped and patted firm by a small hand. 

He says your name again, and takes your hand in his own–your heart begins to beat more rapidly, knowing that this is wrong, that Geto will know, somehow, that another man’s touch has been upon you.

He says more things. Things that barely register. That your family has missed you. Your friends have missed you. He’s missed you. 

It shouldn’t be surprising. He was–after all–your boyfriend. Was. Had been. Once upon a time, when the world was different. 

“What happened to you?” He asks, and you don’t answer. You can’t. Not fully.

“I…” How do you tell him, exactly? Where do you even start? And where would you end? By telling him that gosh, you were just thinking about how you’d like to get back home to the man who kidnapped you years ago. The man who’s held you hostage and hurt you, but the man who–who loves you, too? Who saved you, who is kind when he can be.

“Your parents are going to be so happy,” Kenji says, quietly, filling your silence. They hadn’t been on your mind in some time, and isn’t that awful of you? But it was too hard to think about them. It hurt too much. So you put them away, like old things in a drawer, to be avoided like a painful memory. 

But… they had been hurt, of course, by your disappearance. They missed you. Did others miss you? And had you been missing them, all along? Only for that pain to be glossed over to protect yourself. A selfish sort of trickery. 

Pangs in your heart begin to puncture that heavy shock. Your mother. Your father. Your best friend. Your dog. Neighbors, the friendly woman at the grocery store who always stuck a pack of gum in your bag before you left. And–Kenji. Kenji, too. 

Tears prick at your eyes and you know they’re threatening to spill. Just when had you forgotten all of them? Set them all in that dusty drawer, to avoid the pain, to indulge in the comfort of increasingly familiar days inside Geto’s compound. 

“Listen,” Kenji says, soft, slow. As if you were wrapped in a silver emergency blanket and perched on the end of an ambulance after fighting off a monster. And–have you been? 

Confusion blurs your thoughts, your memories. You haven’t been… unhappy in a long time. Haven’t thought about those unpleasant days, when you fought. When you ran. Instead, you’ve thought about how comfortable you are; how nice it feels when Geto puts aside his duties now and then, and spends more time with you.

When did you stop trying to get away?

Kenji seems to sense your thoughts, somehow; sense your inner turmoil which must surely be written on your face as clear as day. 

“I’ll help you,” he continues, as his words seem to grow louder and louder in your ear. Like a siren–like a wake up call. “Meet me at the park around the corner. Tonight. Whatever’s going on… whatever’s happened, I can help you.” 

I can help you. And you need it, don’t you? Help?

Your mouth opens stupidly, like a fish, but before you can say anything, two familiar presences are by your side. 

Kenji drops your hands, and you find yourself staring down at them. 

“Who is this?” Mimiko asks, a shopping bag tucked over her arm. She takes one of your hands in hers, gives it a firm squeeze.

“Do you know them?” Nanako’s hand is in yours just as swiftly as her sister’s, and this time, you recollect yourself–you give her hand a squeeze first.

“I don’t know,” you lie, the first time you’ve lied to the girls in what seems like forever. “He was just apologizing for running into me.”

The girls look at each other, leaning forward, with you in between. You feel the weight of their stares glancing by you, like they might just brush your cheek. 

But–

“Let’s go home,” is all they say together, and begin to lead you away. You don’t dare answer Kenji, but as they turn you away, you dare it–

You give the smallest of nods.

You’ll meet him.

–

“Did you behave?” Geto murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of your forehead. Every muscle in your body seems to lock in at once, the thought pattering against your skull–He knows he knows he knows he knows–before he pulls away and laughs a little. A melodic sound that pulls you down from your tense height, though it feels like your feet skid the entire way.

“Only a tease,” he says, almost airily, before he looks at the girls. “Did you find what you were looking for?”

Nanako and Mimiko exchange a look, and there, an awful thought–They’ll tell him–before they dutifully pull the sides of their shopping bags closer in near unison to hide their gifts. 

“You’ll find out at the party,” they say in unison, and you can’t help the cold wash of relief that runs through your stomach. They must have believed you, and they know mentioning the man to Geto will only spoil the party they’ve been planning for weeks. 

It will definitely spoil it, you think, once he finds out you’ve run away.

–

You’re not very poetic, as a general rule of thumb. Oh, sometimes you try. You take pen to paper and scribble out lines about your feelings, about the way the trees look in the garden you’re allowed to roam, the way Geto’s empty side of the bed feels in the morning. 

It never amounts to anything satisfying, you can’t quite seem to make the words stick. But here, now, in this moment, maybe you could write something worth remembering.

The moonlight brushes against Geto’s hair as daintily as your fingers, which skim the strands on the pillow, not daring to get anywhere close to his scalp, to the softness of his cheek. He might wake up. He might wake up and realize that he’s let you go in the night, his arms tired and slack, and you’ve slipped out of bed–

But you’re not gone yet, are you? No. Now, you’re leaning next to the bed, watching the way the moonlight through the window makes half his face glow in the darkness. He looks like a sculpture, with only a hint of his chest rising to tell you that he’s a living being, and not some piece of marble in the garden.

And oh, how lovely he looks. How serene. 

Maybe you should stay. Maybe this is an awful idea. Maybe it will simply lead to trouble and upset and you’ll topsy-turvy everything in your world again, and it won’t be worth it.

But then you remember Kenji’s hands squeezing yours and those thoughts, whirling and long repressed, of the world outside. The world you left behind. A world waiting to welcome you again, you’re sure, if you just make that first move to leave.

So you do leave–swiftly and with dread and hope fighting for space in your stomach. 

–

Meeting Kenji in the park is surreal. Being truly alone in some outside place, away from attendants, away from the girls, away from Geto. It is only you and Kenji and the moon above, watching silently. 

You don’t tell him about this out of body feeling; there is an embarrassment that overtakes you all too suddenly at the thought of letting him know everything.

Instead, you tell him about the kidnapping. The training. The ups and downs with Geto, the highs and lows of what has become of your life. The escape attempts, the fights, the slow descent into accepting that you won’t be able to leave.

You don’t tell him what he doesn’t need to know. How it feels when Geto strokes your back on nights you feel lonely, how it makes your stomach flutter when he kisses you with a quiet warmness instead of hunger; how you no longer dread his presence, but normalize it, welcome it–invite it, even.

“We’ll go to the police,” he says, and you feel bad for the barking laugh that pushes its way out of your throat. He didn’t mean to say something stupid. Pointless. You know that.

“He would find me,” you say, quietly. “Find us. He’d kill anyone involved. He’d kill you.” Would he kill me? You wonder, and don’t ask aloud. This should make Kenji give up. Run away, and protect himself. 

But he doesn’t. Instead, he grips your hand again, squeezing it like he’s been the one to hold you all these years. He waits until you turn to look at him, and you can see the glossy tears in his eyes, the way he looks so frazzled–but determined. Hopeful. Kind. 

“Please let me help you.”

These words hurt your chest. 

“Is there a day you can slip away like this again?”

You don’t answer right away. You chew on the words, heart pounding. 

How sick it feels that some part of you wants to say no. Wants to be Cinderella hiking up her ballgown and calling out that she has to get back to her kidnapper’s compound by midnight or she’ll turn into a pumpkin.

But–

It’s not just Kenji that you left behind, is it? It’s your parents, your friends, your family, your neighbors. The world itself. 

And something small inside you, louder and louder, knows you want to get back to that world. 

“The party,” you murmur, almost without thinking. “Tomorrow night. Can you meet me at the gate of the compound?” 

Kenji’s smile breaks your heart and you feel tears slipping down your cheeks. He reaches up to brush them away and you almost flinch from the intimacy.

“Tomorrow night,” he repeats.

Tomorrow night indeed.

The giddiness of it all carries you all the way back to the compound, sneaking through the shadows, stumbling through the gaps in security that the girls taught you one evening so they could take you to see a movie in town. 

It even carries you through the hallways back to Geto’s bedroom, where he should still be sleeping–

Where he is, instead, sitting in his chair and staring right at you as you come through the doorway. He stands, when you enter, and you don’t move as he bridges the gap between you. 

"Where did you go off to?"

A lie passes your lips as easily as air. "I was just helping with the decorations for the party. S-Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you.” 

He pauses, pulls you closer and leans in, kisses your neck. “Ah,” he hums, “And here I was worried you were trying to escape again.” He sighs into your skin, warm and tickling. “You’ve been so good. But I still wonder, now and then…”

It feels impossible for your muscles to lock in so tight, but they do, even as he pulls you back into the bedroom towards your shared bed. 

“No,” he says, almost a murmur. “You’ve been so good to me these past years, haven’t you?” He gestures towards the bed and you climb onto it, no need for instructions, and begin to disrobe. Your chest is tight–everything from your head to toe feels tight–and you’re waiting for something to snap. Him–or you? 

But he doesn’t. And you don’t. Instead, he lets his robe drop to his shoulders, then lower. 

“I think I’d like an early present,” he says, low. And the sound of his voice, the sight of him disrobing, brings a familiar heated flush–a familiar pride. A familiar feeling of usefulness that he has cultivated in you through careful training.

You don’t protest as he climbs onto the bed, as he hovers over you and begins to take what is his–but as your head hits the pillow, you wonder how much emptier the bed will be tomorrow night. –

It’s like you're not in your own body. Can Geto tell? Can the girls? You take another pretend sip of champagne so they think you’re just drunk, high on the alcohol and not the thought of freedom. What an elusive thing, freedom. Something you’d given up on grasping yet here it is, dangling in front of you, held by Kenji’s warm hands.

Geto is too busy for most of the night to stay near you. There are too many people, too many speeches, too many moving parts. It’s glorious, really, for the opportunity it gives you–

Because when he’s crowds-deep into the room, and the girls have run off to start gathering the gifts, you are able to slip away. It feels sickeningly easy. No one pays much attention to you anymore, not like they might have a few years ago, keeping you on a tight and perhaps literal leash.

It wasn’t practical to pack anything, so you try not to regret leaving a few treasured items behind as you shift through the shadows, keeping yourself in the darkness. Though it hardly matters. Most everyone is at the party, desperate for a glimpse of Geto; desperate to please him. Like you are, sometimes. Or were, you think. You’re going to leave all that behind. Aren’t you?

Kenji is standing at the gate like he isn’t seriously risking his life to help you. Like this is a game. He even smiles when you make it, as he pushes open the unlocked door and grips your hand to pull you through.

It makes your heart feel a bit strained–how stupid he is, how little he knows about Geto. How much more you know about him, how cruel he can be–How he looks when he sleeps contentedly by your side, how his smile gets a little higher when you do something he finds cute, how his fingers feel against your cheek.

Your feet skid against the ground. Oh, oh–

Kenji looks back when your gravity pulls against him. 

He says your name, and your chest tightens.  

“What’s wrong? Did you forget something?” A touch of annoyance in his voice. No wonder, he is afraid to get caught, after all. 

“No,” you say, voice cracking, throat dry. But haven’t you left something behind? No, not something. Someone. (Not just him–not just him, but the girls, too.) “It’s just–I just–I don’t know if I…” 

If I can leave him. 

You shouldn’t feel this way. You shouldn’t. But you do, and it keeps you rooted, keeps your shoes digging into the ground even as Kenji gives you a tug.

“Come on,” he says, more of a hiss. “We don’t have much time.” He gives another tug, and this time you actually pull against his grip. 

“I can’t!” 

The shock registers on his face as quickly as it registers in your heart, plucking hard like a taut string. 

Kenji’s surprise turns to something else, an emotion you haven’t seen for some time. Irritation–no. Stronger. Harder. Something meaner mixed with disbelief.

“What the hell–” He says your name in a way that makes it sound like an awful thing. “Don’t tell me–” His lip curls, his eyebrows furrow. “Don’t tell me you love that bastard. Think of what he’s done to you!”

Your tongue snakes out to lick your dry lips and you know what might be said here. What Kenji wants to hear. That you’re just confused, you’re scared, you don’t know what to do. 

But you do know what to do. And what you can’t say. What you don’t want to say to him. 

It doesn’t need to be said, anyway. It’s clear as day on your face, on the way your shoes are planted in the ground. Kenji’s expression turns awful and you can tell he understands that truth of yours; a truth that feels so much uglier when you’re outside the compound. 

You do love Geto. You do, and maybe it’s wrong and fucked up and–

Geto is here–somewhere. You can feel him, although there’s no sign of him anywhere, no sound of approaching footsteps. But it’s something innate in you now, this ability to sense his presence. 

“You have to leave,” you say, quickly, words hopping out of your mouth like a skipping stone. “Before it’s too late. He–he’ll kill you.” And despite the way Kenji looked at you, you don’t want him dead. You just want him gone and out of your life, back to his old world, even if he will no longer be ignorant–happily?--of your whereabouts.

For a moment he keeps a grip on your hand, and you wonder if he’ll plead with you to come with him. Convince you that your life here is terrible and you need to leave. He’ll try to convince you for so long that Geto will come and kill him, and you’ll sob over his dead body.

None of that happens. Instead, he lets go, abruptly, like your hand is electric. 

He says your name and when you look up at him, he merely shakes his head. 

“I don’t know who you are anymore. You’ve… changed.” Changed. Said awfully, like the word was spoiled milk in his mouth. 

“What do you mean?” And you ask this, despite perhaps not wanting the answer. 

It doesn’t matter, because he doesn’t give one.

Instead, he turns, without so much as a goodbye, and leaves you standing alone at the gate in the darkness. 

Alone–and clutching the string of your heart that kept you from leaving in the first place.

–

Everything is wrong. The compound should be lit up, all sound and music, the din of people inside the party. But instead, it’s like the world has been snuffed out–there is only darkness. Not even the familiar glow of candles in hallways or electric lights snug inside the maze of rooms.

There’s only one light and you follow it, moth to flame, all the while a knot in your stomach ties itself tighter and tighter. The world is quiet and dark and you’re going to the only thing you can see–the temple where Geto and his followers meet. 

A temple of light, now.

You don’t see anyone inside as you cross the threshold, but you’re not stupid enough to think that you’re alone.

And you aren’t–you aren’t, and when you sense Geto behind you, it is with the same familiarity as the feeling of someone presenting your winter coat to be put on at the long end of a weary evening.

Only instead of being enveloped in warmth, Geto stands behind you–and his hand shoots out to grip your neck.

It’s nostalgic, in its own way. The press of his fingers against your neck, the slight squeeze. A warning, but this time, you think it will be more than that. A blown last chance, perhaps. He’ll kill you. Or throw you out, and that might just be worse. 

“It was quite stupid of you,” he says, slowly, as if you need time to process his words, “to think that I wouldn’t find out what you were planning.”

How awfully nostalgic, too, when he pushes you against the hard stone of one of the statues in the temple. It connects with your side in a flash of pain, and Geto turns you around with ease. If he notices the way your body has begun to tremble, he doesn’t show it. 

“Humor me,” he murmurs, curling his hand around the front of your neck. “Why didn’t you leave with him?” 

His expression is cold, you think. You’ve gotten so much better at reading him, and yet, you haven’t done anything particularly displeasing in so long that it feels like wading into unfamiliar territory. 

“Not that you would have gotten far,” he adds, a slight sneer in his tone. “Not with that fool.”

A sneer in his tone, yes, but also–is it jealousy? How could Geto be jealous of someone like Kenji? Geto, who is smarter, and stronger; Geto, who always seems to know what you need, even when you don’t. Geto–the man you can’t imagine being without, despite it all.

The thoughts come like dominos, clicking together with precision.

“I didn’t leave because… because…”

Despite his grip on your neck, despite your trembling, despite the fear that he might kill you–

“I love you.”

You reach out and caress his cheek with one hand, and reach forward, his fingers pressing into the soft tissue of your neck, to kiss him softly on the lips. 

The surprise that registers on his face does not meld into disgust like Kenji; instead, it seems to freeze, and you’re keenly aware of the fact that you know he prefers to initiate any intimate contact himself. You forgot, in your haze, in the blurry anxiety of this evening. 

“I’m–” 

Sorry, you were going to say, but you don’t say; because his lips are suddenly on yours, hungry and warm and unrelenting. The hand on your throat grips the back of your hair and keeps you in place as he presses himself closer against you.

And what trembling you had from before is replaced with anew, but from warmth this time, from the buzzing that begins low in your bellybutton and spreads as Geto’s kisses travel from your mouth to your neck; as his fingers begin to work at your clothes.

“I want to hear you say that again–” He bites your neck, lapping at the mark. “And again–” His fingers undo the last belt holding your outfit together, and the fabric drops to the ground. “And again.”

You whimper as he guides you further into the temple, onto the space where he might normally greet his followers. The tatami presses against your bare skin as he begins to undo his own clothes, not bothering to order you to do it for him in his need.

“Until you’re screaming it,” he murmurs, his hair tickling your face as he looms over you. 

And you know his words are nothing short of a promise. 

–

You are sometimes a stupid thing, he thinks. Yet you are undoubtedly still his–stupid, yes, on occasion. But his. 

You proved that to him, on the night you chose not to run away. You wouldn’t have been able to, of course. That moronic monkey that called himself your “boyfriend” had neither the intelligence nor stamina to get you farther than the gate. He didn’t even sense the guards watching him the entire time.

He didn’t sense Geto, either, early the next morning, when he came to kill the fool who thought he’d steal something from a far superior being. 

If he hadn’t been still basking in the bliss of the night before, it might have been more excruciating. Oh, it hurt. Kenji’s eyes had gone wide and he’d choked on blood and tried desperately to get some final words out. But it might have been more entertaining to drag it out for hours–days–perhaps longer.

Ah, the things you make him do, without even realizing it. Unintentional mercy was just another thing to add to the list of things you’ve placed on his shoulders. 

He’d come here to tell you just that; to tell you how Kenji died, and why he died, and how he’s glad you’ll never have to worry about him bothering you again.

Only you’d surprised him. Something you don’t often do, even when you try.

Surprised him with a shy smile and your hands behind your back, holding something apparently quite precious.

It was–it is. 

A positive pregnancy test. No doubt procured by one of the girls. 

The full weight of it doesn’t hit him yet, won’t hit him, he thinks, until much later on. A child–with you. There is much to consider. Legacies and heirs and all that.

But for now, he focuses on you. You, not leaping for joy but smiling at him, an almost nervous sort of expectation on your face. He can see the thoughts dancing inside your head–Is this okay? Is he angry? Will he be happy? And he can never quite describe how it feels, this knowledge that he has so much power over you.

That he can make you smile shyly and look down with a nervous little glance and ask if he’s happy.

It’s endearing, truly. You’re endearing. 

And ah, that unintentional mercy strikes again. It is enough to make him slip Kenji’s bloodied watch into a fold of his robe.

For now–he’ll let you plan on how you’ll share the news with the twins. 

You can learn about the fool’s death another time.

[poohsources]

🐝  *  ―  𝑺𝑷𝑰𝑹𝑰𝑻𝑬𝑫 𝑨𝑾𝑨𝒀 𝑺𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑪𝑬 𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑺.

❛  we'll just have to make do.  ❜ ❛  come on, it'll be fun.  ❜ ❛  wait, where are we going?  ❜ ❛  you can't be here. go now!  ❜ ❛  it's just a dream, a stupid dream.  ❜ ❛  don't be afraid. i'm a friend.  ❜ ❛  i can't stand up. what should i do?  ❜ ❛  now listen, i'l tell you what to do. if you stay here, they'll find you. i'll distract them while you get away.  ❜ ❛  you have no choice if you want to survive here ... and save your parents, too.  ❜ ❛  why do i need a weakling like you?  ❜ ❛  trembling, aren't you? still, i'm impressed you made it this far.  ❜ ❛  what a pain. you're gonna pay for this.  ❜ ❛  keep your wits about you. if you need anything, ask me.  ❜ ❛  hey, are you okay? don't fall apart on me.  ❜ ❛  listen to me. i'll promise i'll save you.  ❜ ❛  what did you expect after all that rain?  ❜ ❛  i'm gonna get there someday. i'll get out of here for sure.  ❜ ❛  i was just coming to wake you up, look!  ❜ ❛  what should i do? he'll die!  ❜ ❛  what's so funny? wipe off that smile.  ❜ ❛  don't do anything stupid until i get down there.  ❜ ❛  you see, someone i really care about is badly hurt. i've got to go right now.  ❜ ❛  this is our little secret. if you tell anyone ... i'll do the same to you.  ❜ ❛  what are you going to do? he needs help.  ❜ ❛  becoming a sorcerer's apprentice is dangerous business.  ❜ ❛  well, getting there is one thing. getting back's the problem.  ❜ ❛  [name], i promise i'll be back. please don't die.  ❜ ❛  don't you understand? it's love.  ❜ ❛  what took you so long? this is a total disaster!  ❜ ❛  what do you want? you can tell me.  ❜ ❛  what, you're still alive?  ❜ ❛  you still don't see it? she's played a trick on you.  ❜ ❛  since when do you talk that way?  ❜ ❛  you held this, and nothing happened to you?  ❜ ❛  i'd like to help you, but there's nothing i can do. it's one of our rules here.  ❜ ❛  but can't you even give me a hint?  ❜ ❛  everything that happens stays inside you ... even if you can't remember it.  ❜ ❛  see? you have a talent for this.  ❜ ❛  [name], i no longer blame you for what you did. but be sure to protect this girl.  ❜ ❛  will we meet again somewhere?  ❜

[irndad]

Hi, I’m so sorry, I searched for request guidelines and must be missing them so if this isn’t something you write I apologize-

Flower prompt heliotrope with Spencer where reader sacrifices herself/or gets shot to save Maeve so Spencer can be happy, even though she’s hopelessly in love with him. 🥹

Little angst, little fluff. You can decide if reader fully sacrifices or just gets really badly hurt and how Spencer reacts.

my dear!! there are no rules yet- i have things i won't fill but thus far the onus has been on me to clarify. i had so much fun writing this- thank you for requesting it!!! requests r open :^) wc: 1.1k

“Is Maeve okay?”

It’s the first thing she says when she wakes up from her hospital bed. Spencer’s shaking, a little woozy too. It turns out that they have the same blood type, and she lost a whole fucking lot of it. He’d been happy to give it to her, although ‘happy’feels like the wrong word to use in this situation. 

She had internal bleeding, and collapsed harshly from the gunshot, scuffing her forehead so badly she needed stitches. Comparatively, it’s the least of her worries, but still- Spencer can’t stop staring at it. She’s literally marred by the choice she made to protect him. 

Maeve is okay. She’s in the same hospital, but Spencer’s spent about ten minutes with her- the rest of the last 12 hours of his life were spent oscillating between donating blood and praying to a deity he’s not sure exists. 

She’d survived. They’d both survived. He should feel relieved- why doesn’t he feel relieved?

It’s a stupid question that he keeps asking himself. Two of the most important people in his life are alive, but still in the moment, her blood spilling over him- the gasp of her breath when the bullet hit her- He’s going to remember the sound of it forever, what it sounded like for her to almost die for someone else. He hates that she’s the type of person to do it. To jump in front of a loaded gun for a woman she’s never met before. 

He’s mad at her. He has no right to be- he gets a chance with Maeve now, and that’s all due to the choice she made. And yet- he’s so, so angry at her. Because she could be dead right now. He could never, ever talk to her again. She made a choice that meant that he might have never been able to hear her voice, do a magic trick for her, ever, ever be near her again. How the fuck could she do that to him?

“Yes,” he replies, “she’s okay.”

She nods agreeably, before wincing at what appeared to be an intense ache at her temples. 

“My head hurts,” she says, her voice low and endearing, and his heart roars with protectiveness. “Do you think I could have a juice box?”

She’s so sweet- he wants to laugh, in a sad desperate kind of way. This is his favorite person in the world, sitting up shakily and asking for juice, clearly groggy and so endearing. He almost lost her. 

“You’re okay too,” he says, “If you’re wondering. You scared us. You had internal bleeding and a concussion. You lost a lot of blood.”

It’s only then she frowns. 

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” she pouts, trying to sit up and speak to him. “But it all worked out, Spence. She’s okay.”

“It didn’t all work out!” Her eyes widen at his outburst, and he feels like scum. Yelling at her when she’s in a hospital bed, taking a bullet so he’d have a chance at romance. 

“You said she’s okay,” she says back, slowly. “I don’t understand.”

“You lost blood. You almost died. That is not it working out. You have to tell me you understand that.” He doesn’t know why he’s being so harsh, but he also doesn’t know why he has to explain this to her. 

“I know,” she sighs, “I know. But this is the job, and I didn’t have time to get a vest on!”

“Then you wait. You wait. You don’t just burst in-“

“And you would’ve lost the love of your life!”

“What makes you think she’s the love of my life?”

A nurse shuffles by the room and Spencer takes a deep breath. He doesn’t want to be kicked out of her room, and on some level he knows how crazy it is to be yelling at a gunshot victim. He pinches his nose, eyes winced in frustration. 

She’s been his favorite person by a wide margin for an incredibly long time. She joined the team as a consultant and he remembers the first time he did a card trick for her- the first time he’d fallen asleep on her shoulder. He was so grateful to know her. Still is. In this moment, knowing feels like time slipping out from an hourglass- like it was almost numbered. Their time was almost finished. 

Maeve was lovely. Maeve listened and she was kind and Spencer really did like her. He’s glad she’s safe, now. But his best friend, his coworker and favorite person- Spencer thought everyone could tell that he’s been in love with the team consultant since the first week he knew her. 

Everything he liked about Maeve reminded him of her. 

And she’d jumped in front of a bullet for someone she thought he was in love with. And fuck, maybe he did love her in some way- but whatever ‘in love’ meant with Maeve, this sorrow, the pain of knowing she’d almost been someone he’d have to remember was far, far deeper. 

“You’ve never mentioned anyone to me romantically. I’ve known you for years, Spencer. She’s important to you.”

Maeve is. She was. It’s all so confusing now. He has liked someone for years, though. He couldn’t tell her, though. Maeve was a welcome distraction from a love he thought was wholly impractical and impossible to love him back— a love that now he has to witness languish in a hospital bed. 

Morgan knew. Morgan would tease him every time Spencer drew a smiley face in purple marker on her coffee cup. He would tell him to just ask her out, and it had always felt so improbable. She’d never go for someone as lanky and uncharismatic as him. 

“You’re important to me.” 

She has no idea how much. 

Her eyes soften at that, and not for the first time, he wants to curl into her arms. He wants to lay next to her in the hospital bed, and feel her pulse beat against bare skin. Feel her pulse and with every beat know that she is alive. 

“I know that, Spence,” she breathes out.

Even though it’s not kosher, not necessarily the right thing to do when your not-girlfriend/girl you went on one date with is in the same hospital, but when his best friend opens up her arms for a hug, he ends up doing exactly what he wanted. 

The team finds her asleep in her hospital bed, with Spencer asleep in her arms. It feels voyeuristic to look at, but Spencer really, really couldn’t care. 

He resolved to tell her that he loves her as soon as she’s healed. With the way Morgan side eyes him every time he ‘helps’ her walk across a room by holding her waist, he’s not sure he’ll last that long. 

[hannieehaee]

i’ve been thinking about this a lot- imagine being in a long distance relationship (online) with svt and meeting them for the first time, would they be shy, awkward, clingy, horny…? if not with every member it’s okay only hoshi🤧 i love your work so much you’re one of the first seventeen writers i’ve followed

18+ / mdi

meeting a long-distance s/o for the first time

content: established relationship, long distance, fluff, mentions of sex, etc.

wc: 935

a/n: this was so cute to write!! sorry it took me months</3

masterlist

seungcheol -

he's imagined meeting you for ages, so he'd make sure he looked as pristine as possible for your first meeting. would want you to wanna jump his bones upon the first meeting, knowing that his dumb boy hormones would probably get the best of him as soon as he smelled your perfume. however! he'd be the perfect gentleman as he got used to your presence, wowing you being his main goal.

jeonghan -

for once, he'd have no words. you'd have caught him off guard at first, making him gape at you the moment he saw you until regaining his senses. he'd be incredibly cuddly and accustomed to you within less than an hour. would act as if this was your day to day life and whine at any mention of future separation.

joshua -

as smooth as he is, he'd be a little awkward around you the first time. despite knowing you so well and speaking to you literally every single day, having you in person would just make him incredibly nervous for some reason. it'd be so out of character for him, constantly slapping himself mentally, thinking he was embarrassing himself. in the end, though, you'd just be equally endeared by him.

jun -

becomes the clingiest person alive. even though he can sometimes come off as shy, he'll somehow just not feel that at all with you even if it's your first time meeting in person. he'll feel this emotional pull to you that would scream at him to keep himself glued to you as much as possible. just completely enamored by you immediately. honeymoon phase but on steroids.

soonyoung -

a mixture of nervous, happy and horny. he'd start off by being nervous, having never thought it to be possible to grow so infatuated with someone through an online relationship. he'd move onto an intense sense of happiness the moment he finally held you, believing this to easily be one of the best moments of his life. lastly, he'd only last so long until beginning to feel horny, having you so close to him and remembering all those nights he wished to feel you in person.

wonwoo -

he'd be the type to stand at the airport with a little sign as he waited for you, a silly grin on his face the moment he spotted you. the sign would be damned as soon as you were near enough for him to hug you. you'd be that annoying couple at the airport that's just morphed into one another, but he wouldn't care. he'd stay there for as long as humanly possible.

jihoon -

so anxious about it he almost doesnt show up lol. would have to be physically pushed by one of his members to actually show up bc of how nervous he was about meeting you for the first time. what if you weren't into him? what if you were disappointed? would have to slap himself at having had those thoughts the moment he actually met you, realizing it was all in his head.

seokmin -

he'd literally cry at seeing you for the first time. would have to be held back from doing one of those cheesy encounters where you run into each other's arms at the airport. he literally becomes glued to you afterwards, cheeks hurting from how happy he is to finally have you here with him.

mingyu -

he'd be so sure he wouldnt cry, but he still would lol. he'd be smiling all through it, though. would hug you and that'd be the last time you were ever physically apart bc he'd be somehow touching you at every waking moment, not wanting a second of separation bc you've already been apart for so long. he'd wanna wait a little while to get further than that, but you best believe he'll be thinking about it from the moment he saw you.

minghao -

he knows distance makes the heart go fonder, so he doesnt mind the nature of your relationship. still, he'd be so happy to finally see you, feeling flustered and shy upon the first meeting. it'd be filled with fleeting touches and timid eye contact. but regardless of this, you'd somehow still end up in bed together. his love for you just needed to manifest in the most physical way possible to make up for lost time.

seungkwan -

as much as he'd wanna use his charismatic mc personality to break the ice, he'd still be the shiest thing around you at first. he'd take a little while to get rid of his awkwardness, just too into you to act like a regular human being. even hand holding would feel a little awkward, but he'd push through his shyness to be close to you.

vernon -

as per usual, he'd be a little more chill about it. would be a bit anxious but would not let it show. as soon as you met, though, all nerves would leave him. he'd be more physically affectionate than usual as he made up for all the time in which he didn't have you in his presence. it also wouldn't take long into your shared proximity for him to want to take things further.

chan -

he'd be so embarrassingly excited to meet you for the first time, all his members would be forced to hear about it, even knowing the mere minute in which you were landing bc chan just would not shut up. the moment would be touching and full of hugs and shy giggles, but soon enough it'd turn into taking you back home and not letting you out of his bed for an entire week.

[street-smarts00]

Complimentary Colors

Spencer Reid x BAU!Reader

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

WC: 7.3K

Summary: After recently joining the team, you and Spencer could never get along. What started off as you two ignoring each other turned into bickering at work. What happens when a stressful moment for you turns into an opportunity to get to know this fascinating coworker of yours?

tags: enemies to lovers, fluff, brief mentions of crime/murder at the beginning (talking about cases/kidnapping), reader is shy and anxious, reader looks young for her age. (reader might be female but i don’t think i specified)

A/N: I haven’t written anything in years and I’ve been on a criminal minds kick for a while. I had this idea loosely based off a prompt I saw on cai by (ApolloTheBoykisser) so thanks babes ;) also for once I had a fic of mine beta read lol my bestie beta read this for me. This is also posted on my AO3 page.

You had been working at the BAU for the last few weeks. You tried to get to know most of your coworkers and it seemed like you were making great progress. You had heard a lot about the team before you joined and were pretty intimidated by them at first. Okay- you were still pretty intimidated by them. But you pushed through your quiet exterior little by little and slowly but surely tried to get to know them. 

All except for Spencer Reid. It seemed like he was trying to avoid you. He was always very quiet and would barely talk to you. Being a shy person yourself, you thought maybe he was just shy or a quiet guy. However, he continued to ignore you except for when he had to acknowledge you for work. 

His coldness towards you was increasingly annoying as time went on, and your perception of him had slowly warped. The things about him you once found endearing, you now forced yourself to hate about him. If he rambled for too long, it could potentially make your blood boil. However, you could never stop paying attention to when he rambled on about facts or statistics. You didn’t want to admit it, but you found him fascinating.

It didn’t take that long for him to start acknowledging you, but this soon turned into the two of you bickering like children. When you were discussing cases or profiles, you both would argue over motives, victimology, crime scenes- literally anything about the case- you two could turn it into an opportunity to contradict the other. You both still kept a level of professionalism to not let your rivalry affect your job. 

But there was always this tension between the two of you when you were in close quarters for too long. 

And at some point you both reached your boiling point. 

Last week, while the team was on a case, you and Spencer had gotten into a little spat once again. This time it went beyond the slight bickering or contraction. In the middle of the local precinct, you two were at each other's throats. 

“What was that?” You asked after you and Spencer left the interview room that held a victims family. 

“I was working off of the profile . . .” 

“You mean the profile we haven’t finished?” You interrupted. “The one we are still currently working on and have yet to disclose?” 

“That doesn’t mean we can’t work off of the information we already have,” he objected. 

“You told her information we are still unsure about. We don’t know for a fact how long he keeps them alive,” you accused while placing your hands on your hips, trying to conceal your frustration but failing.

“Guys.” Someone tried to tone things down. Neither of you heard who and you weren’t backing down.

“If I remember correctly, I heard you discussing this very subject and inputting your thoughts  . . .” 

“You still shouldn’t have told her! Especially when you don’t know for sure if her daughter could be alive,” you seethed stepping closer.

“Would you rather me hide everything from the mother who’s suffering from the disappearance of her daughter?” He asked, matching your tone and taking a step forward. 

“I didn’t say that!” 

“It sure sounded like it.” 

“Reid. Y/N.” The two of you turned your heads to your boss like two deer caught in headlights. 

“With me, now.” Hotch demanded and led you to an empty interview room. 

You could tell how angry he was- despite the fact that his stoic face represented almost every emotion in the book. But by the tone of his voice, you knew you and Spencer had messed up. 

“You two do not only represent this team, you represent the bureau. These cops are already not pleased with the idea of their boss calling us in and I do not need you arguing in front of them and giving them a reason to take us off this case. You must learn to respect and cooperate with one another or I will take you both off this case. Do I make myself clear?” He lectured. 

You both replied with a monotone “yes.”

“Good” 

Ever since your argument, you both had been relatively quiet towards one another. Like it had been in the beginning when you were ignoring each other. But that didn’t stop you from letting him invade your mind at every waking minute. It almost saddened you in a way there was no more bickering or quick remarks with him. With how much it annoyed you, you never thought you would miss it. 

The team had just finished a case and before everyone packed up and went home, Rossi announced that tomorrow everyone should come over for a little ‘get our minds off work’ get together. Your coworkers all thought it was a great idea to relax after the last few very stressful cases. 

As excited as you were to finally go to one of Rossi’s house parties, you were also scared shitless. Parties with relatively new people in your life were hard. You were so quiet around new people and were scared to approach others; you often waited to be approached. To you, being a profiler was easier than having a social life. 

But, maybe this time would be different. There’s not that many people on the team and you’d already started to familiarize yourself with them. 

The next day, you were pulling up to Rossi’s house. If there was anything else to be intimidated by with this man- besides his years of experience in the BAU- it was this giant house. You were greeted by the man himself at his front door. 

“Y/N, glad you could make it.” He opened the door and welcomed you in. 

He led you inside to where everyone else was gathered. Everyone was cheery at your arrival. Penelope with her clicky heels ran up to you and greeted you with a hug. It was refreshing to be around people who were so welcoming. It made it a little bit easier to really let your walls down. 

Well, almost everyone. Spencer gave you a small wave from where he stood. 

The night continued on and you would occasionally engage in conversation with the team. At this point, you were off to the side- standing in the kitchen and occasionally sipping some wine that Rossi had been bragging about and was just so excited for everyone to try. You were a bit too overwhelmed to go back to talking. The music was getting a bit loud and the lights seemed to be too bright. You opted for sitting on the barstool next to the counter and observing everyone around.  

They were all off in small groups or pairs around the house. All except for you and Spencer. He was another outlier and standing away from all the commotion. You looked over in his direction and he caught your eye. You both glared at each other and you quickly averted your gaze away from him. Your thoughts started to race and you began playing with your hair. 

After a moment, he glanced over in your direction again when you weren’t looking. He was unintentionally profiling you and noticed you getting overstimulated. Your eyes laser focused like you zoned out, your foot tapping against the chair, and your hand anxiously playing with your hair. 

While he wasn’t exactly your friend, he did understand what it felt like when social gatherings got overwhelming. He made his way over to you, careful not to make you more nervous or uncomfortable. 

“You okay?” He asked you. You were pulled away from spacing out. His voice sounded a bit concerned- which took you by surprise. You were partially relieved someone approached you to help bring you back down to earth. That someone noticed something was off. What confused you was the fact that person was Spencer. 

“I’m fine.”

He was well aware of what it meant when someone was “fine” and you were clearly not fine. He felt bad that you were so quick to shut down his attempt to check on you. After all, it was his fault and he knew that. 

“Do you wanna step outside?” He asked. 

You were conflicted. You didn’t want to be outside alone with him, but at the same time, you needed some time away from everything. Maybe it would help calm your nerves. 

“Maybe for a bit.” 

You followed him outside onto the back patio. You took note of the fresh air and the muffled sounds from inside. It all felt like a weight lifted off your shoulders. Pretty soon though, you realized how awkward it was to be outside alone with him. 

Spencer cleared his throat and spoke to break the silence, “Sometimes these parties can be . . . a lot.”

“A little bit. I was doing fine for a while but I think my social battery is running low.” You confessed to explain your discomfort. 

“Yeah” he replied. He appreciated the fact that you felt comfortable enough to express this with him. He tried to relate to you. “It’s the same with me. Sometimes I just need a moment to collect myself.” 

“Exactly.” You were relieved to hear that he felt the same way. “Plus it doesn’t help that I'm so new to the team.” You crossed your arms and slightly closed yourself off.

“I was the same way when I first joined.” He told her to try and ease your concerns. You were just like him at some point. The new guy and just trying to figure out how you fit in. 

“It’s difficult at first, but you settle down after a bit. Once you get to know everyone.” 

“Yeah it’s just the whole getting to know them part is a bit . . .” You abruptly stopped, hesitating to reveal too much to him.  

“A bit what?” 

“Intimidating,” you confessed, avoiding his eyes.

He obviously noticed your hesitance and avoided his usual behavior with you. You were always so strong and quick to banter with him. But now you seemed vulnerable, and he didn’t want to take advantage of that. 

“It’s not just you, I promise.” He was being honest. This was the calmest and most genuine conversation the two of you had ever had. “I find them all pretty intimidating.” 

Your eyebrows raised at his confession. How could he possibly be intimidated by these people?

“Really? But you’ve known them for so long. You all are so close.” 

“Close doesn’t mean you can’t be a little intimidated,” he replied. It might not make much sense, but it was the truth. 

“I mean Hotch is always stonewall and silent, no matter what you say to him. And don’t even get me started on Morgan.” He joked, knowing you would understand. 

You lightly chuckled at his joke. “I get what you mean.” You were starting to understand him more. You thought it was ironic that one of the team members you were first intimidated by was also intimidated by the team. Now he was starting to seem less intimidating or annoying and more approachable. You kinda liked seeing this new side of Spencer. 

“I guess I’ve always been like that. Worried to get to know people or open up.” You weren’t entirely sure why you were telling him this, but you knew he would understand. 

"I think when you're afraid of being hurt or judged or misunderstood by people, you try to keep your guard up." He told you, speaking from experience. From a young age until now, he's always felt misunderstood. 

"And I think...maybe that's why you're on edge with me? You're not sure what to expect from me."

“Are you profiling me?” You asked jokingly. Spencer however thought you were serious and you noticed him tense up. 

“I’m kidding.” Your expression softened to let him know you weren’t actually accusing him of profiling you. “I’m gonna be completely honest, I’ve been on edge with you cause I thought you didn’t like me.” 

He was a bit taken off guard by your statement. But at the same time, he couldn't deny it. He didn't dislike you now, but at first, he wasn't exactly fond of you. And now he was ashamed of that.

"I didn't like you." He admitted. "I thought you were pretentious, too eager to be accepted. I think I saw you as competition." 

Spencer’s comment did sting. It was never sunshine and rainbows to hear someone doesn't like you. However, you did take note of his language. He said “didn’t,” “thought” and “saw,” all past tense. Does this mean he doesn’t dislike you now? What you did appreciate was his reciprocated honesty. You both were making some progress in your relationship and you wanted to continue it. 

“I was eager to be accepted. I wanted to feel like I belonged.” 

“I know how you feel.” He expressed his sympathy. “I regret not giving you a chance. You’re not like I thought you were.” He also appreciated seeing this different side of you.

“You’re not like I thought you were.” You admitted. 

A little smirk tugs at his lips, “So I’m not as pretentious and selfish as you thought?” 

You lightly chucked, “I never thought you were selfish, but I did think you were a ‘know-it-all’ and trying to show off.” 

Spencer really didn’t want you to think he was a show off. Sure- he had a vast amount of knowledge, but he never wanted you to think he was bragging or that he knew better than you. “I do know a lot but I promise I’m not trying to show off. I just have all this information in my head and I want to share it with people or I’m really passionate about something and want to talk about it.” 

You understood that feeling all too well. There were so many times you wanted to ramble on about things you cared about or had knowledge on, but for the most part just stayed quiet. Meanwhile, he didn't keep quiet. He would go on and on. And while almost everyone else was either rolling their eyes or trying to shut him up, you were listening intently. You didn’t want to admit it back then, but now you were feeling up to it. 

“I will admit, while I did think of you as a know it all, I found a lot of your tangents interesting.” You admitted. 

His eyebrows raised in surprise. He was so used to people dismissing him. It was nice to hear you often would listen. “Really? You didn't mind me babbling on?" He asked, relieved with your response. 

"I mean, it is something I have trouble with. I tend to talk too much.” 

“Oh Dr. Reid I am very familiar with rambling and being worried about talking too much.” You paused for a moment- considering how much more you wanted to share with him. “I know it may not seem like it because I’m always quiet around the team but.. once I get comfortable around people, I actually get very rambly”

"You do?" He asked, sounding surprised. “About what?”  

“Really anything. Mostly things I’m passionate about like you. I’ll also tend to go on tangents about memories or just things happening in my life.” 

You made your way to a bench on the patio as you spoke. Spencer followed and sat down on a chair adjacent to you. You brought your attention back to him and noticed his focused gaze on you and he quickly licked his lips, a habit you noticed he did all the time.

"You really are a lot like me. You're just quieter at first." He added, teasing you a little. While he was not one for social cues, he had the sudden urge to be bold and make a joke. "Maybe next time I see you rambling, I won't immediately contradict you." 

You dramatically dropped your jaw and placed your hand over your heart. “Wow, you really know how to give a compliment,” you said, pretending to be offended. 

He laughed with a bright grin. "I'm sorry. Let me rephrase. The fact that you're so silent and reserved makes it that much more thrilling when I find out how much of a chatterbox you actually are." He joked, being playful as before.

Your cheeky smile slightly falters for a moment. You hoped he wouldn’t notice but he did. “I think you won’t be so thrilled once I actually turn into a chatterbox around you.”

"Actually I think I would find it intriguing." He told you, looking directly into your eyes. "The quiet ones tend to be the most interesting and complex when they do end up talking."

“I’m not that interesting.”

“I beg to differ. You’re very interesting. Probably the most interesting person on the team.” 

Did he really say that? Did he mean it? Or was he just being nice? You tried not to profile him, but couldn’t help it. His body language expressed he was being honest. Uncrossed legs and arms, open palms, eye contact. The only thing you didn’t notice when studying his body language was his dilated pupils. 

“Thank you,” you smiled at his compliment, “I doubt I’m the most interesting though. You maybe, Mr. Three PHDs and can read 20,000 words per minute.” 

He smiled back at you, “Just because I'm well educated doesn’t mean you can’t be as interesting as me, if not more.” 

You couldn’t believe he was saying such nice things to you. This was the first time you guys were actually making some kind of connection.. and it felt wonderful. 

“I still can’t believe we’ve known each other for this long but are just now talking. And by talking, I mean not getting into a spat after speaking for more than 3 minutes.” You confessed with a hint of playfulness in your voice at your joke. 

“Yeah, I feel like I barely know you.” 

“What would you like to know?” You asked. 

He thought for a moment trying to think of a question to ask. You noticed once again that he licked his lips, trying to concentrate. 

“Let’s start with something simple. What’s your favorite color?” He asked. 

“Wow, I think that’s a bit too personal.” You said, voice laced with sarcasm. You tried your hardest to contain your amusement but started to smile. He smiled back at you. At first, he was always confused with sarcasm and social cues. To be honest, he still was. But he could just tell with you. He knew when you were joking and when you were being serious. He found your sense of humor amusing. 

“Yellow.” You answered. “What’s yours?” 

“Purple.” He replied. 

You intended to leave it inside your head- but a quiet “huh” made it past your lips as an idea came into focus. 

“What? Is it my choice for my favorite color?” He tried to joke with you but was also a little bit serious. 

“Oh no, it's just I thought it was interesting because those are complementary colors. You know how they are opposite on the color wheel?” You asked even though you figured he knew. 

He nodded his head, “Yes! Because they are on opposite ends of the color wheel, when they’re used together it creates a vibrant contrast and enhances visual appeal. The two colors almost balance each other out and support each other's intensity. Complimentary colors are a key component to color theory.” He suddenly noticed how long he was talking and his posture stiffened. He pressed his lips into a thin line and avoided eye contact. “Told you I talk too much.”

“And I told you that I find your rambling interesting.” 

His head perked back up at you. You genuinely wanted to listen to him. It was refreshing to talk to someone that didn’t cut him off or zone out. 

“That’s kinda like us though, don’t you think?” 

“What’s like us?” He asked confused, still thinking about the fact that you actually enjoy listening to what he has to say. 

“How our favorite colors are complimentary colors. Like you said, they support each other's intensity. When you first see them they’re opposites, but the more you look the more they compliment each other.” 

He softly smiles. “That does sound like us. The more we learn about each other, the more we find we have in common.” 

There was a short pause where you both considered his statement. You did want to know more about him. You wanted to know all of him. 

“Can I ask you a question this time?” 

“Of course.” 

“So, you're always reading. Like everywhere you go, you carry a book with you. I wanna know: what’s a book you could read over and over again and never get tired of?” You wanted to know beyond his favorite color. You wanted to get to the various  building blocks that made him the way he was. 

Spencer considered your question for a moment. Trying to go through the near infinite list of books he’s read in his life. You could tell he was concentrating on his answer because licked his lips. “Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens.” 

“Is he one of your favorite authors?” 

“Yes.” He said almost immediately, confident in his answer. 

“How come you like that book so much?” You asked.

You could see this sort of spark enter his eyes the more you asked about it. Giving him the chance to share his passions. ”Oliver Twist was one of the first books that used satire to deliver social commentary. Particularly in this book the social commentary was aimed at poverty in 19th century England. The book also quickly gained attention after its publication due to the scandalous subject matter in which crimes, such as murder, were depicted in detail.” 

Spencer finally stopped rambling and almost looked as if he caught his breath from the endless talking. But what he was met with was your undivided attention.

”That sounds really interesting, maybe one day I should give it a read.” You say with a soft smile.

“You should,” he matched your smile, but it seemed a bit more sheepish due to his brief tangent. “Have you ever read Charles Dickens before?”

You shook your head in response. “I’ve never read anything by him. I actually don’t read much. But I used to in high school.” You revealed. 

“What have you read?” He asked. He leaned slightly forward and unconsciously mirrored your body language and placed his right hand on his leg like you did yours.

“Pretty much the same books everyone else had to read for school.” You paused and tapped your fingers trying to refresh your memory.

“To Kill A Mockingbird, The Great Gatsby, 1984, um.. a few Shakespeare books.” You answered with the few books you could remember. 

“Which one did you like the most?” 

“I’m not sure”, you sighed and thought about his question, wanting to give him a genuine answer. “Maybe.. Macbeth. I remember finding the story interesting and I did a group project on Macbeth and Lady Macbeth's descent into madness. Like the scene where she’s hallucinating the blood on her hands.” 

Your voice started to pick up speed and volume ever so slightly. He could tell you were getting more passionate the more you spoke. Subtly displaying how you could ramble once you opened up to someone. He smiled as you continued, happy to see that you felt comfortable enough around him to let a hidden part of yourself out into the open. 

“I guess that kinda explains why I wanted to be a profiler and learn about psychology and forensics. I was interested in how Lady Macbeth's guilt manifested and caused her delusions. I wanted to understand why people did the things they did.”

“I can tell, you have this curiosity. You want to understand. Know the ‘why’. He mentally recalled the times you would express your curiosity during work. 

“Yeah, pretty much.” 

He pressed his lips in a line. “Is it- is it my turn to ask you something now?” He stuttered slightly. 

“I mean you don’t have to. It’s nobody’s ‘turn’ but you can if you want.” 

“I do.” He replied immediately. The corners of your mouth perked up into a small smile. He mirrored you.

“I may be stealing your previous question. Like you said you don’t read much. But I have noticed you listen to music a lot. I want to know a song you could listen to over and over again.” 

He was right, you often listen to music. Mostly on your way into work or on the jet, you would be wearing your signature headphones and have some playlist on. It was your own way of coping with the stress of your job. You looked down at the ground as you recalled the songs in your favorite playlist. 

“Dreams by The Cranberries.” You brought your eyes back up to face him. But what you saw was confusion in Spencer’s eyes. He tried to hide it but you knew better. “Have you heard that song?”

He did that little sideways pout you often saw him doing when he was in awkward situations.

“I’m not sure,” he replied. Spencer broke eye contact, embarrassed he didn’t know something from pop culture. 

“It’s okay. Remind me next time I have my headphones and I’ll show you.” You spoke calmly to reassure him there was nothing to be embarrassed about. 

He brought his attention back to you. Relieved to hear your gesture instead of a quip about his lack of pop culture knowledge like he was used to. 

“I will.” 

“Alright my turn.” You shifted your weight and brought your legs up to your side so your whole body could face him. “Um, it's kind of a personal question though. I’m curious about something.” 

“Go ahead. What is it?” He asked, giving you his whole undivided attention. 

“Does it ever bother you when people question your age when you say how educated you are?” 

He was somewhat thrown off by your question, but something told him you've wanted to ask him this for a while.

He furrowed his eyebrows, “I wouldn’t say it bothers me. Considering I have had such an extensive education so early in my life, it’s completely understandable that someone would question how I did it at a young age.” 

“Hmm,” you hummed in response. He knew that wasn’t the answer you were looking for. 

“Can I ask you something personal?” He asked before asking his real question. He appreciated your concerns about potentially pushing a boundary and he reciprocated it. He didn’t want to break this newfound friendship- if he could call it that- by making you uncomfortable. 

You nodded your head, silently telling him it was okay.

He slightly fidgeted with his hands. “Did you ask me that because people question your age?” 

“Yes,” you answered hesitantly. “I’ve never looked my age.” 

He thought about his next question before asking. “I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, I’m just trying to understand. Why does that bother you?” 

“It bothers me when people don’t take me seriously. I mean I’m in my late 20s and some people still think I look fresh out of college. It hasn’t happened as often since I joined the BAU but so many people in law enforcement don’t take me seriously. People tend to think I’m too innocent to have a job like this.” You confessed to him as you avoided looking him in the eyes.

"I wouldn't say you're innocent.” His comment brought your eyes back to him. 

“But you do have a soft demeanor. It makes you approachable. If anything, those qualities are an incredible asset to this job whether it be when you're speaking to victims or their family members.” 

Even though he would often throw snarky retorts to you in the past and try to get under your skin, he always admired how good you were at your job. Of course, you were an amazing profiler and had no trouble standing against dangerous unsubs. But the way you handled incredibly sensitive situations with such calmness and comfort with others was admirable. During cases with children, you were able to ease their worries and provide a safe space.

“While you are very sweet and shy, I would never call you innocent.”

“Thanks,” you smiled at his compliments. You felt understood hearing his affirmation. It also warmed your heart to hear that he thought so highly of you. Especially since the last few weeks, you thought he hated your guts. Although- his comment did make you more curious about how you were perceived. “Half the time I don’t realize how shy I am or how I present myself,” you weakly chuckled.

“There were actually a lot of ways to deduce that you're shy,” he matched your lighthearted tone but also kept a sense of seriousness to prove he was being genuine.

“Was it the fact that I was sitting by myself and scared to talk to them?” You half joked as you figured that’s what he was going to imply.

"That was part of it, yes. But besides that, it was the way you often avoid direct eye contact, and the tone of your voice. It's gentle and low, as if you're afraid of coming on too strong.” He was too caught up in his thoughts and observations to realize how much he was divulging. “You keep your distance and your words are always measured or not overly assertive. Almost like if you do come off assertive you will receive backlash." 

When he met your eyes again, he noticed how frozen you were. On the outside you didn't reveal much, simply had a stoic expression. He knew you better than that. He knew that he had hit a nerve and started to panic that he went too far. He had finally wrecked this slowly growing friendship like he thought he would, by being himself. 

“Wow, yeah that sounds pretty spot on,” you agreed. You sounded soft spoken and played with your hair again, of course without your knowledge.      

“I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” He abruptly spattered in a panic.

“No it’s okay really,” you interrupted trying to reassure him. “I just didn’t expect you to be so ... correct.” 

He pressed his lips into a thin line, relieved he didn't mess things up, but still slightly worried he had left you feeling exposed. "I guess I'm just good at noticing things about people,” he shrugged.

“You forget, we get paid to notice things about people,” you joked with him, trying to make him feel better by lightening the situation. Of course, it worked. 

"That's true." He chuckled and paused for a moment to consider. Then he continued with his profile of you. 

"It's just the way your voice softens whenever you become uncomfortable, almost whispering or lowering in tone. Or your nervous habits, like when you play with your hair." It was a gesture he was pretty keen on catching.

You suddenly were very aware of the fact you were playing with your hair. You quickly dropped your hands and crossed your arms. 

"It's not bad that you do that, you know,” his voice had a slight crack in it. “It's just something you do subconsciously." He told her, trying to be comforting.

“Do you wanna know something you do subconsciously?” You asked, your voice with a hint of teasing. You decided that if he was going to profile you, you were going to profile him back. 

He noticed your tone and that you had gained a bit more confidence. "Sure, hit me." He said as he awaited your reply with curiosity and interest.

“You poke your tongue out a lot or lick your lips. Most of the time when you’re concentrating or lost in thought. Which means you definitely need to start using chapstick. I’ve seen you do it a lot since we’ve been out here.” You explained.

"So, are you telling me my lips are dry?" He replied playfully, his grin widening.

“They probably are,” you lightly laughed at the silliness of his question. He laughed along with you and subconsciously went to lick his lips again, but caught himself.

“I'm gonna be thinking about this so much more now,” he confessed. 

“Consider it payback for pointing out how much I play with my hair when I'm anxious. I don’t know what to do with my hands now,” you remarked as you dramatically waved your hands in the air.                                 

“Sorry,” he awkwardly apologized.

“I already told you it’s alright. You're not the only one who analyzes behavior. I’ve noticed plenty of things you do and why you do it.” 

“Like what?” He furrowed his eyebrows, curious what particular things about him you had profiled. He noticed something though. The confidence you once had, had washed away after you collected your thoughts.  

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” you stated.

"You won’t make me uncomfortable,” he responded almost immediately. “I promise. I really want to know.”

You took a deep breath before explaining your observations. “You desperately want to be heard. You love to share the endless knowledge you have, but when someone walks away or cuts you off your reaction is almost that of deflating. And when someone does show a bit of interest in what you have to say your voice perks up and almost cracks with excitement. Then you talk a lot faster, probably a mixture of excitement and as a way to keep the other person engaged and to not lose their attention.” 

Spencer carefully listened to every word you said. Not a single deduction was false. You had read him like a book in the short time you knew him. You noticed something about him that most of the team couldn’t pick up on. 

"You're right about everything,” he said with a soft tone. Almost everyone interrupted him, you never did. This got him thinking. Of course everyone on the team made observations about each other, they’re profilers of course. However, he wondered why you had made so many about him. 

"Are you always this observant about everyone? And I mean everyone. Or is it just me that gets the special treatment?" He asked his last question with a hint of a teasing tone.

You scoffed, “yeah right, like you get special treatment.” You thought about your response, not wanting to reveal too much.

“I guess I might have paid attention to you because you were the only one who was so closed off to me. I wanted to know why. I wanted to know who you were even if you weren’t going to tell me.” 

He was right, you were paying him special attention. The fact that you wanted to know who he was despite his closed off nature revealed enough. 

“So you admit it, I get special treatment?" He cheekily asked. 

“Oh shut up,” you retorted. 

“Make me.”

Your lips pursed, holding back a smile. 

Spencer noticed you were trying to hold back a smile and found it endearing. He also noticed something else about your reaction. You were blushing. You blushed as a result of his taunting. He got lost in the thought of you blushing from him. 

“Something you wanna share with the class?” You teased. 

He didn't want to admit it, not yet at least. He wanted to make you sweat just a little bit and get a reaction out of you. 

"I'm curious about something. Could you tell me what would cause someone's cheeks to flush?" He tried to seem genuine but of course he came off with a hint of cheekiness. 

You furrowed your eyebrows. You were completely oblivious to your red face and were confused by his random inquiry. 

“Are you questioning my profiling skills?” You lightly scoffed, not knowing what his true intentions were.

"No, not exactly. I just want to know what you think.”

Your expression changed to one of confusion but also amusement. You decided to play along with his little game.

“Well psychologically blushing could mean a multitude of things. Embarrassment, stress, anxiety, attraction.” While your voice stayed consistent, he noticed the change in your breath and how your eyes darted away from him. It was a brief expression, but he caught it. He got the answer he was looking for.

"And which one of those can explain why you’re blushing?" He raised an eyebrow and smirked as he leaned closer to you.

Your stomach dropped and eyes widened. You shifted your weight in your seat and touched your cheeks. “I’m not blushing..” You ignored his question.

"You are.”

You sighed and stood up, “Well if I am it’s probably because you just pointed it out and I’m embarrassed.” 

"Oh, really?" He taunted and followed you. "I think that you might be blushing for a different reason."

You bit your lip out of frustration and crossed your arms. “Are you profiling me Spencer?” 

"Maybe I am,” he smirked. "I would say that maybe you've been so interested in me that you've been paying a lot of attention. That's why you took note of so many of my habits and behavior." 

Your face got redder and you started playing with your hair again. You huffed, “I told you before, the reason I paid attention to you was because I didn’t know you.”

"Sure, but you pointed out how you kept noticing I licked my lips. Why were you looking at my lips in the first place?"  

You were caught between a rock and a hard place. “Why are you so interested in why I’m blushing or looking at your dumb face anyway? Why do you care so much?” You asked defensively. 

He couldn’t respond, he froze up. 

“I mean, you question why I pay so much attention to you but here you are doing the same thing to me. Trying to read me like a book,” you accused. 

He cleared his throat and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "I guess we're both curious about each other."

“I guess we are,” you responded. You saw his cheeks turn pink in reaction to your questioning. “Look who’s red now.”

If his face could even get redder, it did. For a man that could probably say a thousand words a minute, it seemed like none of them could fall from his lips. 

It was your turn to smirk. “I can’t believe I’ve managed to leave you speechless. Never thought that would happen.”

"Shut up,” he sheepishly scoffed. 

“Make me.”

Spencer felt his stomach flutter, he smiled bashfully at your mimicking his own teasing. The seconds passed and neither of you spoke, neither of you had words. Both of you in your own heads. In your head, you got a stroke of confidence. You didn't know where it came from, maybe the teasing, maybe the fact that you had him speechless. But you took it and ran with it.

”Maybe the reason you wanted to know why I was blushing so badly, is the same exact reason I was blushing,” you mumbled. 

The realization hit him in waves. You just admitted to the very thing he was trying to get out of you in the first place. He was speechless once again, but this was different. He stared at you with a stunned look, not knowing what to do. 

You took his blank expression as a negative reaction, thinking you came off too strong. You slowly backed away from him, regretting putting yourself out there. 

“Sorry. I don’t know why I said that. Just forget it.” You turned around to go back inside but felt something on your wrist. You turned around and saw Spencer had grabbed your wrist to stop you. His eyes wide and breath heavy.

"No. Don’t,” he begged. 

"Really?" You whispered softly. 

He smiled, "yes. Please don't take it back."

You smiled back at him bashfully. Spencer’s reaction make your stomach do backflips, but it made you wonder. 

"Can I ask, why did you pay such close attention to me? 

He released his light grasp on your wrist and instead placed your hand in his. "I couldn't stop analyzing every single detail about you. I wanted to know you inside and out. There was something about you that felt intoxicating. After every time I spoke to you, even if it was just us bickering or arguing, I couldn’t stop thinking about it.” 

He looked down at your joined hands and started to rub his thumb over your hand. You looked up at him and smiled, glancing at his lips. “Well you definitely must be thinking about something now, you licked your lips.”

He couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed. You made him feel like he was on full display, like he was a book that only you could read. 

He slightly blushed at your comment. “I am. Can you guess what I'm thinking about?"

You grabbed his other hand with yours as a smirk grew on your face, “How close we are. How it’s probably driving you crazy..” You nearly whispered the last part as you leaned closer to him, “how I’m making you crazy..”

"You do.” Spencer wrapped one of his arms around your waist and placed his hand on the small of your back. A shiver ran down your spine as his hand touched your back. Of course, he could tell and was light headed by the effect you had on him. He’d never felt so intoxicated by someone before. “You’ve made me a mad man ever since I met you.” 

Your heart was beating so fast it felt like it was going to burst out of your chest.

“What about you?” He asked. “Do I make you crazy?” 

You glanced between his eyes and his lips. 

“Yes..”

It was like you both were on the exact same wavelength. You both dove in at the same time and slammed your lips together. Both of you just so desperate to get a taste of the other. The kiss was tender and passionate, with no single person in control. You both moved together in synced motions. All of the arguments, all the tension that had been slowly building up could be released.

When you finally parted, Spencer rested his forehead against yours. You felt his airy breath as he tried to come back down to earth. You placed a hand on his face and stroked his cheek with your thumb. 

“I’ve been wanting to do that for weeks,” he breathed. 

“I can tell,” you chuckled. “what’s stopping you from doing it again?”

“Do you want me to?” He asked desperately. 

You placed your other hand on the back of his neck, “I love hearing you talk.. but shut up and kiss me.

Before today he never liked the idea of you telling him what to do. But now, he was at your mercy. He didn’t hesitate and locked your lips with his once again. You both melted together like lovesick teenagers. But moments like these of course don’t last forever. 

The sound of the patio door opening fell deaf on both your ears. It wasn’t until you heard Derek Morgan that you both pulled away from each other. 

”What’s going on out here?” Derek questioned with a smirk. 

You and Spencer couldn’t speak, too frozen to react. 

His grin only grew, “My man,” he chuckled as he glanced at Spencer.

“Don’t kill each other while you're out here.”  Derek left the way he came and closed the patio door. 

You sighed, “He’s gonna tell someone isn’t he?”

“Yup”

~

He made his way back to his coworkers with a cheeky grin plastered on his face. “What’s got you all happy?” Emily asked. 

“Looks like our two angry birds are now two love birds,” he answered. 

“What? What are you talking about?” Penelope sprinted over as fast as she could with her heels. 

“How I just caught Reid and Y/N making out.”

The room exploded with chaos at the reactions to his news.

JJ, who was standing off to the side with Hotch, furrowed her eyebrows, “I thought they hated each other?” 

Hotch glanced towards the patio door and saw the light shadow of two figures. “No they don't. Not really.” 

[wannaeatramyeon]

Meeting Yamazaki Shingen for the First Time: Sleepless Nights

G/N. 1.7k strangers to~. Soft. Arranged marriage trope. Masterlists

Disappointing, you've heard people say about you. Disobedient.

Troublemaker, should be seen and not heard, your mother chides you while your father just looks on with resentment, as if he couldn't believe they could have created such an insolent child.

In exchange for being the black sheep of your family, you're offered, kicking and screaming, to Yamazaki Shingen. Trading your life and freedom to elevate your family's name and standing.

If you can't be a filial offspring and make your parents proud, the least you can be is useful.

To everyone's surprise, the Yamazaki clan accepts.

.

.

With relief, you realise there isn't going to be a wedding night.

This isn’t a marriage. You're only one of many. No-one has been deemed worthy enough to sit by Shingen's side as the head of the family. This doesn't bother you.

Nor the fact that you have not seen the man you have been allegedly sold off to and you quietly count your blessings.

Instead, you're treated as an extra pair of hands, almost a servant. Spending your days helping out around the household with any chores and errands as they see fit. It's hard, gruelling work.

You collapse every night in your futon out of exhaustion and sleep takes no time at all.

It's still a better life than you had before.

.

.

Though the routine might be growing familiar, it's still a stranger's home and a strange room and a strange futon that you're lying on.

Tonight, the strangeness of your situation overwhelms.

You miss your old room, the softness of your old pillow on your skin, the smell of your own belongings.

Tonight, sleep is nowhere to be found.

.

.

You're greeted by a silhouette sitting in the courtyard.

Outlined by the moonlight, size more monster than human. Although in any other circumstances you might feel fear, this is the Yamazaki home, you think. No-one, not even monsters, would dare trespass.

You find your own space to sit in. You wonder if he even knows you're here or if this is two strangers letting the silence grow comfortable between them.

"Who are you?" comes his voice, and the peace breaks. It's low, almost a growl.

It takes you a moment to realise you didn't dream it and you tell him your name.

"I can't sleep." you add and you hear a sharp exhale of amusement.

He doesn't volunteer any information about himself and you don't ask.

Nevertheless, it's a kindred spirit, you decide. Someone else suffering from sleep evading them.

He continues to sit, still as a rock, and you join him. Breath deepening and eyelids growing heavier by the second. Your head drops forward, jolting you awake and you take your leave.

.

.

In the morning and for several weeks after, you're not sure if the man had been conjured up by your imagination.

If in your sleep-induced haze, your mind created someone you could relate to, no matter how trivial the bond.

You search but don't see anyone in the Yamazaki family that could look like him.

You almost mistake Shintaro for him, the Vice President who has been courteous if a little cold, except in your blurred memories you think the stranger has wild long hair.

.

.

Over time, you forget about him. Someone that could either be a figment of your imagination or as real as the floor you’re currently scrubbing.

You let your daily tasks wash over you. Following instructions without argument and keeping to yourself.

Your hands grow calloused and energy drains.

A state of overtiredness finally overwhelms you.

Where you can feel the fatigue deep in your bones, your body hovering in a state between conscious and unconscious, moving in a haze, yet your mind is alive and wired and sleep won't take no matter how much you toss and turn.

.

.

He’s there again.

But as the days grow, the nights are no longer as dark as it was and you can make out more of his features.

Your brain didn’t deceive you. His form is as large as you remembered, maybe larger. A good few heads taller than you and powerfully muscled. Hair long, like a sheet of darkness past his shoulders. 

“Evening,” you say as a way of greeting, your voice carrying in the quiet night breeze. His head snaps to yours, though you can’t make out his face.

You feel his gaze on you as you sit, folding your legs under you.

You close your eyes, enjoying the silence. Feeling the warm air on your skin and caressing your hair. No longer as frigid or cool as it was when you first stepped foot into the Yamazaki clan.

“Another sleepless night,” he says. You don’t know whether it’s a question for you or a confession of sorts for him.

In the end, you echo him, agreeing with the sentiment. “Another sleepless night.”

.

.

Curiosity keeps you awake rather than exhaustion or anxiety or insomnia the next night, wondering if the man is still there sitting like a lonely statue.

Your mind leads you fully this time. 

At dusk, you carefully slide the door behind you as your feet pad onto the soft grass, brain and body awake.

He’s there. In the same spot, in the same position.

It’s even lighter tonight, and you can see his features. His black eyes, the startling white irises, the emptiness in his gaze.

You do as you have done before, sitting down a few metres away. 

“Why are you here?” he asks, tone inquisitive. Your footsteps and movement have given you away. You’re much more alert, less sluggish, no longer moving as if in a dream state and he has noticed.

“I wondered if you were here every night.” You tell him, opting for honesty.

The silence stretches as you wait for his answer. Eventually you hear-

“Yes.”

.

.

The twilight meetings become routine. Only a handful of words are exchanged on a given night, if any at all.

Yet you have come to think of him as the guardian of your slumber. Some nights you drift off as soon as your head hits your pillow, and when morning comes, you feel a pang of guilt for not joining your companion.

He never comments on it, though you think his eyes are a little warmer whenever he sees you again.

.

.

At the change of seasons, when the day grows hot and sticky, you are summoned to Yamazaki Shingen’s quarters.

You had allowed yourself to forget that you are only in this household to be used for breeding potential, no better than livestock. 

Disregarded that the dowry the Yamazaki clan paid for you was too high a price for a simple servant and became so accustomed to your daily chores, pretended this day would never come.

At sundown, the head housekeeper, a crotchety old woman guides you to your doom.

You would have considered escaping if she wasn’t flanked by bodyguards, two men with matching severe expressions. You would have considered asking for help if your only companion, the person you have sort of befriended, was nowhere to be found in the courtyard.

“Master Shingen has been dissatisfied. He hasn’t been with anyone in months,” the housekeeper says, subdued and not breaking pace. She gives you a look as if that is your problem to solve. “The elders are getting worried.”

Good, you want to snap back. Let them be worried. Let this stupid clan die off.

Just as you’re about to say something you would no doubt regret, she stops abruptly in front of an oversized door. You almost careen into the back of her but the bodyguard’s hands shoot out and steady you.

“I’m fine,” you hiss, shoving their hands off you.

“Now in you go,” she rolls her eyes at your outburst, opening the door and pushing you in with her talons, “And do behave.”

.

.

Shit shit shit.

The room is almost pitch black, only illuminated by a sliver of moonlight through the windows.

Adrenaline courses through your body and you desperately will your eyes to adjust to the darkness, even as they dart around fruitlessly, looking for a weapon, for anything-

When you sense another presence in the room with you and you stop moving.

“What are you doing?” comes his voice.

Your breath hitches. 

It’s one that you have only heard sparingly but have nevertheless looked forward to hearing again. A figure you have sought out night after night.

“Is-Is that you?” 

A chuckle from the shadows. “Yes.”

Could this really be him? “Y-Yamazaki Shingen?” You stammer, a literal shot in the dark. 

“Yes,” he replies and you feel your legs almost buckle out beneath you. “Come closer.”

Incredulous at this twist of fate, you carefully make your way towards the centre of the room. Your eyes, at long last, are able to pick out the silhouette sitting on the bed, and that there is a bed. 

Does he expect... Does he want you to-?

“No,” he cuts in like he’s able to read your thoughts. “I want your company. Like you did mine.”

His white irises are practically glowing, boring into you.

“Another sleepless night?” you ask tentatively. Groping for an olive branch, for that connection.

“Another sleepless night,” Shingen agrees, and everything finally falls into place.

.

.

Like all those nights before, Shingen is a man of few words. He observes you as you try to find comfort in his space, in a room completely unfamiliar to you.

He finds a strange companionship, ease in your presence. You don’t ask for anything from him, and in return, he doesn’t ask for anything from you.

Except, well - this.

And only this. He has no intentions of forcing what you do not want to give.

As you lay your head down next to his, a small smile of relief on your face that things have surprisingly worked out, Shingen, to his own surprise finds that he’s smiling back.

For the first time in a long time, he falls asleep in his own bed. 

He falls asleep easily tonight and every night thereafter - to the sound of your breathing, and the warmth of your body next to his.

[bunny-jpeg]

hii, could I order a croissant, a mince pie, and an iced tea served by toto? (maybe with brown or horner reader:)

thank you, honey🤍

bakery menu

welcome to the bakery! how can i take your order? want to submit your own order, then hit up the menu! i'd love to hear from you!! as for this lovely anon, i changed one thing. that it wasn't an accidental launching of the relationship. but rather toto did it on purpose! (oops), i hope you love the fic

croissant ("i wonder if your father knows what happens during the off hours. if he knows you're here with me.") + mince pit ("i'm not jealous) + iced tea (accidental launching relationship) served by toto wolff (formula one)!

cw: smut/pwp, age gap (20s/50s), size difference, zac brown!reader, launching relationships, roadside sex, car sex, cow girl position

toto sipped his drink and watched you from a short distance. the drink was sour in his mouth as he watched you talk to your father. you had always been a daddy's girl. he knew first hand how that manifested itself.

your daddy issues were so painfully clear cut, he didn't know why you would question how you ended up with them. your father was zak brown and yet you went home with toto wolff. if you were all royalty, this would count as treason and your two nations would go to war.

but this was formula one, and while it was different. toto still shouldn't have been bedding you for several months now. even now as he watched you chat with your father over drinks, toto wanted to undress you and kiss every inch of soft skin.

your father be damned.

it was after a night of drinking and toto was more than happy to take your keys away and drive you home himself. you could grab your car tomorrow, tonight toto needed to make sure that you were okay.

"thanks for doing this, toto." zak said as he shook the other man's hand.

toto nodded, he would play the shining knight. at least until he got you into his flat for the night. you looked nicer in toto's bed than you ever did your own. too many stuffed animals all over yours. he said to your father, "it's not a big deal, zak. it's better someone drive her than she drive herself."

zak chuckled, "i remember drinking that much at her age. it would kill me now." he laughed, "i bet you remember those times!" sometimes toto was reminded that he was your father's age almost to the t.

but as you once said to him, 'sucking your cock is cheaper than therapy.' as you filed your pretty nails that he would later pay to get painted.

you were soon at your father's side and laughing, "who's taking me home?" then looked to toto then your father, "he's taking me home?"

zak chuckled and looked at you, "yes. you'll be nice to mister wolff, right? no getting sick in his car?"

you nodded dumbly and smiled at toto once more, the smile was knowing and it made toto hot all over. you said to your father, "of course! thank you daddy, i'll text you when i get home!" then kissed your father on the cheek.

little did zak brown know. little did he know.

"you're jealous. you're jealous!" you said in a sing-song tone to toto once you were out of the venue, "you're jealous of my dad!" you giggled and rested against him as he brought you to his expensive car.

"i'm not jealous" he replied as he opened the car doors and got you inside. even buckled you in and you reached for him cutely to place kisses all over his face. if freud were alive, he'd be gawking at this moment. toto closed your door and then got into the car on the driver's side.

before his door was closed, your hands were all over his face. feeling the masculine nature of his features. those dark eyes, that strong jaw, that nose of his. it all excited you as you tried to get your hands all over him. you were like an insatiable puppy who demanded kisses.

he held onto the back of your hair to keep some distance between the two of you. he looked at your lips and sighed, "i wonder if your father knows what happens during the off hours. if he knows you're here with me."

you pouted a little, "my daddy has no idea."

"maybe he should find out at some point." all toto knew was that if his phone went missing, there was a folder with so many photos of you in various states of undress and redress. from your pretty pussy on display to a heavy skiing jacket when you went on vacation with some 'friends' (it was toto). he knew if he ever sold them, he could make a healthy dollar. but he'd never do that. he had a hard enough time with you wearing a two-piece swimsuit around your friends.

soon toto was driving and his hand was on your thigh. slowly he inched up that skirt until his long fingers were in between your thighs, just over the waistband of the poor excuse you called panties. a lacy white number that toto bought for you.

"you wore them."

"only for you."

"did anyone else see them?"

you looked at toto with the cutest expression that fell naturally on your face. you smiled at him, still a little drunk, "of course, daddy. only the best for you."

the road you were on was quiet and toto had no choice but to pull over. he couldn't very well send you back to your cute little apartment without a pussy full of his cum. not when you were giving him such delicate looks. you were already heated and toto wanted you between his teeth.

with the car lights off, you could only maneuver yourself in the dark as toto leaned back the driver's seat to let you onto his lap. he undid his belt and his cock out of his slacks. your panties were over the back of the passenger's seat for safe keeping (they'd be lost).

in the dark you managed to find his cock and sink yourself down on it. your eyes went wide for a moment from the stretch of his cock settling inside of you. you shuddered and your inebriated mind made everything feel heightened.

"you're going to be a good girl for daddy?" he asked. he wanted to show you off to the world. show zak brown that he didn't have that tight of a grip on you. that you were a woman and you were dating a man. and there was nothing that fucker could do.

you might be brown's daughter but you were toto's baby girl. once again, daddy issues sprouted their ugly heads into the back of your mind as you rode the older man. he pushed the skirt of your dress up and kissed at your neck.

the car rocked a little bit from your movements and you panted heavily. the windows fogged up on the quiet back road. toto's hands switched from your breasts to your hips then back to your breasts when he groped them with those paws he called hands. they were huge, it was intimidating. you still didn't know how those digits managed to fit into your poor pussy.

he licked his lips as your held onto his hair, he then pressed kisses up against your heated skin. he felt the heat in his gut as he pressed kisses at your skin. his hands were eventually full of the softness of your hips as he guided your faster up and down his cock.

you panted heavily before you pulled his hair to get him to face you where you made out with him once more. you whimpered between kisses a simple, 'daddy.' and it made toto hot all over. your back arched as you really worked at his length.

you felt the sweat cause your dress to stick to your back and you make up to run a little around the edges. toto thought you looked beautiful, like a debauched little princess. all because of him. wasn't that something? that zak brown's daughter was riding toto without a car, in a semi public space. anyone could drive by and snap a photo. wouldn't that make headlines.

he held onto you tighter and started to move you faster on top of him. your noises were loud as the car rocked to your movements. and toto felt himself get so close to orgasm.

but you were first. you held onto your lover tightly and whimpered, "daddy" as you felt yourself climax. your back arched with your head almost hitting the roof of the car.

but toto kept you close to him. there was nothing that could hurt that (empty) little head of yours. not while toto wolff was still breathing. you felt so good against him even when you went a little limp against him. but he continued to work your hips against him, he buried his cock in you as deep as it would go.

your noises soon turned pathetic and the car reeked of sex. eventually toto finished inside of you with one last heavy thrust. he spilled himself into you. not that you cared, sometimes toto wondered if you enjoyed the risk of him finishing inside of you. that maybe you'd be mostly wolff dna if he came into you enough times. and toto was happy to comply because that meant you'd eventually have toto's baby at your hip. but that was for later. right now he had to get you alert enough to get into the passenger seat so he can get you home.

"come on. pull down that dress a little and get yourself seated."

-

you woke up the next morning in your bed to a flurry of messages, a full voice mail inbox and even fifteen emails from various people within your network. through bleary, sleepy eyes you basically made out one thing. check social media.

upon opening the app, any tiredness was zapped from your body and you felt hyper away. your eyes went wide when you saw toto's page, the newest photo wasn't of the cars or the tracks or anything. it was you in his apartment in monaco in one of his shirts (with no bra given that you could see your nipples through the fabric) looking not at the camera but at the book on the history of mercedes that he kept on the coffee table. you knew the exact moment that was taken... and now the rest of the world wanted to know every detail about your little love affair with toto.

especially your father, who was calling your for the fifty-first time that morning. there was a lot of explaining to do. <3

[jazjelspen]

my angel baby [part 2]

(alastor w/ angel daughter reader)

[caution: NOT PROOFREAD oh and angst hehe]

(notes: alastor joins charlie and vaggie in heaven to convince them about the hazbin hotel. angel reader physically resembles a fawn. )

[tags: @luujjvi @c-lunette @mokisano @ghostdoodlen @wildfire153 @anonymousewrites @bewitchedbymadness @thisbitchreallyneedssleep @22carolina08 @original-person]

[remember if you want to keep in touch with a particular series I write, let me know in comments or messages you want to be tagged! you will only be tagged once unless specified that you want to be tagged till the end of a particular series!]

(also once again, apologies if alastor’s last name isn’t actually altruist qwq it’ll stick till the end of this fic but I’ll try not to mention it as much)

For the first time in years, you feared being in heaven.

Not that you felt unsafe, just that you felt incredibly uncomfortable seeing your serial killer dad who's now a demon be invited to be in the place where light and goodness is it's main foundation.. even reassuring yourself that it was temporary didn't calm you down when you were flying away from him. For your own sake you even avoided where the welcoming was happening.

Ahh but.. it also didn't help that he was following you around after the show without you knowing.

After the angels had performed their song to welcome in the princess of hell, her apparent partner, and-- him.. everyone sort of went their separate ways and the visitors from below started to relax in their new yet temporary places of stay. You felt a bit of relief when you assumed Alastor would also be setting himself in to relax as well.

During heaven's performance you decided to take a breather at a local coffee shop, one where you thankfully always had a spot there where you could hide away from the huge windows of the cafe.

Although right after that, unbeknownst to you at the time, Alastor was looking for you, but obviously pretended as if he was looking for a good bite to eat.. unfortunately for him he had to behave and he couldn't eat a living walking thing until after they came back home.

Oh how bummed out he was.

You were in a far corner inside the shop, as mentioned before anyone that was able to look in through the windows wouldn't be able to see you since you were out of view. Drinking your favorite beverage that the shop offered and eating a filling snack to relax your body and mind. Safe to say you were now more in touch with your feelings and weren't overly panicked as you once were.

'Why is he here.. is he an advisor to the princess? a companion?.. some kind of servant?.. she's really young though, perhaps she's ward to him or something.. but she has her.. dad.. and I'm sure he must be alive still.. ' You thought, different theories and ideas passing by in and out your head trying to make sense of the situation.

'perhaps.. he's here to see me?..' you hoped, then scolded yourself right after,

'nono.. I can't be wanting that.. sure he raised you but he's a monster. he killed you, _____. get a grip..' you sighed deeply while massaging your temples in frustration 'even if he seemed to not.. have meant to do that. he tried to kill someone else anyway, that poor man could've died instead of you.' you tried to reason with yourself, coming to a single conclusion in the end.

Eyes glued to your drink. staring at it with intensity.

"I regret nothing." you claimed to yourself in a low mumble, not enough for anyone close to hear.

Ahh.. but you did miss him very much.. the version of him that you grew up with at least.

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

You were in your warm and humble home with your father. It was a fairly cold night with rain dropping onto the roof of your home yet the warmth of the house seemed to make the cold seem almost cozy to you.

Your small footsteps could be heard running around the house, as your little seven year old self ran around you seemed to be giggling uncontrollably with a peculiar circular item in your hand.

"No running in the house _____, remember what I told you." Alastor exclaimed in slight irritation as he could hear you from afar while he was cleaning up the table from the dinner you two just had, he started slightly missing the times when you didn't know how to walk and when you simply just blabbered baby nonsense.. he definitely doesn't miss the sleepless nights of baby crying though.

You huffed and puffed as you then plopped the item on the sofa, it was a disk, a record. You then climbed yourself up and once your little body landed on the cushions you then picked yourself up once more to then grab the disk and turn to the small table right beside the sofa where a large phonograph rested on.

"Papa!" you exclaimed, "Papa! Music music!.." you pleaded, your little voice begging to once again turn on the music playing machine.

Alastor faintly chuckled at your little demands, amusing how such a small thing dares to command but nonetheless he found it silly at how you tried. "Yes yes my dear, I'll be right there." He then set the last few dirty dishes away to be cleaned soon since he couldn't say no to listening to some tunes before bed.

You smiled brightly as your little feet playfully tapped on the cushions, almost jumping. Noticing your developing excitement Alastor hurried over to you.

"Ah-ah-ahh, no jumping on the sofa my dear. I'm excited as well but I can't have you break your little head open, that'd be no fun at all!" Well.. that and he didn't wanna ruin his cushions, but nonetheless he cared for your wellbeing the most even if he wasn't fond of admitting it.

His hands gently took the disk from your hands, carefully setting the disk on the phonograph to have it play your favorite tunes. Once you two heard the amazing first few notes of jazz was when Alastor settled down beside you on the sofa and you started clapping in delight.

Alastor looked at you almost fondly, letting out a small huff of delight at your reactions. Your innocence seemed to be something that contained him from wanting to continue his murder spree, although his bloodlust always wins in the end, he seems to always willingly pause his life for you.

Plus, he loves jazz just as much as you do.. why would he miss out on this?

Your fit of giggles dwindled down but didn't stop, in a sudden burst of energy you jumped off the sofa and then started dancing similarly yet obviously a bit more goofy to how you've seen couples and single dancers dance in the nights of Mardi Gras or just parties your father took you when he would be invited. Your little dance moves seemed to be fiddled with confidence yet they were so off from what you were trying to attempt, nonetheless you were happy, and that's what Alastor secretly liked to see.

"Dance with me papa dance with me!" you pleaded again, your smaller hands grabbing his larger one and tugging at it, trying to get him to stand up.

"_____ darling no tugging, besides I just sat down my dear and I'm exhausted." He sighed, his constant smile always present yet he was visibly a bit tired from the day he had.

But oh how you persisted, and how darn adorable you were as a kid. "But papaaa!.. pretty please! I wanna dance how you and that singing lady did the last time we went on those big loud places!"

"Parties, dear." he corrected you, but let out a long sigh and got up. Because no matter how tired he was or how annoyed he seemed to be he didn't mind keeping you happy.

So that's what he did, he danced with you. Swinging you, twirling you around to the melody and the beat, your cheers of glee and uncontrollable laughter motived him to keep up with your excitement. Not only that but your smile, genuine and pure, it was what he needed to get himself to match your energy. Jazz music was what always connected you two and it always brought you together no matter what.

At the end of the song Alastor ended it by gently throwing you up in the air and catching you, letting you get your last giggles out. You both laughed together, your bond ever growing stronger. You truly did tame this bloodthirsty killer without even trying or knowing, of course you were too young to know.

Once the giggle frenzy ended you both finished your dancing with a long sigh, the phonograph ending it's segment. You then suddenly yawned and rested your head in the crook of his neck over his shoulder, snuggling for warmth and for a sudden need to sleep.

"Seems like my little fawn needs sleep now, almost past your bedtime young lady." Normally he'd scold you a bit more strictly as he usually did, but seeing as how you were basically ready to fall into a pile of dreams he just felt no need to do that.

"Sorries papa.. I forgot.." your little words muffled by your face hidden in his neck.

Alastor was never one for being touched, let alone hugged or snuggled. Oh but he had no right to complain, he's had you this close since you were a baby.. to him this just felt normal now.

Of course no one but you could be this close to him, you're his little girl after all.

"No need to worry, my dear." He stopped in front of your bedroom, carefully opening the door with a creak following after. With careful footsteps he walked towards your bed, pulling the blanket away to then gently place you on your cozy sheets with care.

Alastor gently moved any misplaced hairs away from your face as he then pulled your soft and warm blanket up to your neck. Your sleeping face reassuring him.

"Sweet dreams sweetheart." His usual smile softening a bit more before backing away and slowly heading towards the door of your room, lingering for a few extra seconds to take one last look at you before slowly closing the door and heading off to bed himself.

After the click of the door closing can be heard, you mumbled "Goodnight papa.." with a smile, even if in the end Alastor didn't get to hear it.

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

You missed him, dearly.

A weight fell on your chest, your eyes begging to form tears. You missed when you had that childhood innocence, when you didn't know what he was capable of, when he was nothing but a saint to you.

It still hurt after all these years, you thought he was a good man.. a bit strict, blunt, a bit too true to himself and definitely peculiar but.. the Alastor that raised you would never do that. Until you were obviously proven otherwise.

Oh but I guess you were too into your reminiscing that you didn't notice the background gasps and small shrieks of surprise and fear, and you didn't yet feel the eventual stares and eerie presence right in front of you.

"What don't you regret, my dear?"

You choked on your drink in surprise almost spitting it out,

that fucking radio voice again.

For heaven's sake how did he find you?? He couldn't have seen you through the windows. Did he follow you??.. did you just not notice.. Oh geez maybe getting used to having your guard down during all your years in heaven definitely didn't help with this situation.

You continued coughing on your drink, even punching your chest a bit to get that last good cough out. The radio demon pulled the chair in front of you to sit across from you, not waiting to ask permission.

To him he didn't need to, he's your father after all.

Once you calmed down you immediately avoided eye contact, only giving him a once second glance to confirm it was him in hopes your ears were playing a trick on you-- they weren't.

"How.. how'd you find me.." you mumbled in slight fear.

"Oh how would I not! Sweetheart I'm your father of course, as your father I must have those parental instincts.. I always know where you are!" he exclaimed, seemingly proud of this.

"I'm guessing those 'parental instincts' didn't kick in when you stabbed me, huh." you spat with attitude, unafraid to be rude to him with so much sin he's committed.

A sharp static sound came from him, as if in slight shock at the disrespect and comeback you gave. "Watch the attitude young lady, you're still an Altruist you know."

You scoffed, hating at how indifferent you felt about your last name.

"Not by blood though.."

"I raised you, don't forget that." he spat back, starting to get irritated.

"And because of that I owe you?"

"Yes, yes indeed! Smart girl you are."

You scoffed at his response, finally getting the guts to look at him in the face. His appearance frightened you, disgusted you even.

Is this truly the man that raised you?

"As a matter of fact, I actually don't." you crossed your arms in annoyance and a huff. Your eyes couldn't help but to slowly drift to off to the people behind him and you see fellow angels you know continue to stare in awe or fear, of course at Alastor. With all eyes on you and mostly him it made you feel a little embarrassed. You cowered down a bit and your wings went over your head and shoulders a bit as if to hide you behind a 'curtain' of sorts.

Alastor obviously noticed this, but could care less about the stares.

You sighed, "Look, Alasto--"

"I think you mean to call me 'father'." he interrupted as he obviously seemed a bit sassy about it. "Even 'dad' is just simply fine and dandy with me!"

"No, I can't," you frowned, wishing you could "I won't. Not after what you did to me, to that man that night, and to every other poor soul you hurt."

Your face slowly scrunched up in disgust "You don't deserve my forgiveness, my mercy."

In embarrassment and feeling tears want to shed you grabbed your drink and got up to walk out, before you could get past Alastor though he grabbed your wrist harshly.

"Uh-- hey.. let go--"

"I didn't mean to do what I did, my dove." His voice turned into a weird version of gentle, almost uncharacteristically gentle. "I never intended to take your life away."

He sounded genuine.

Could he?.. Would he?..

Maybe, just maybe--

"No." you spat, "Maybe you didn't mean to hurt me, but you definitely meant to hurt others. That's something I can't forgive and I'm sure your victims wouldn't neither." you glared at him, setting your foot down. "I refuse to call you my father, not until I know that you repent for your sins but knowing you I highly doubt that." You snatched your wrist away and for a slight second you stopped caring about what others thought when they'd see this "Besides, you killed me two weeks after I turned eighteen.. don't even include the years that passed since the 30s and present time so clearly you can't control me anymore old man."

But Alastor wouldn't go down that fast nor easily.

His sharp smile widened, you felt immense dread.

"Oh little one, no matter how far you are or how much you try to disown me you are forever connected to me. I made you who you are and you can try to run and fly off however long you want but in the end you're tied to me whether you like it or not. Even in death."

He seemed deathly serious with his statements so much so that you could've sworn you could see his shadow giggling and smirking in a way that seemed even worse and more than evil.

Your breath quietly hitched in fear in noticing this to the point where it even forced you to take a step back. He let out a sinister chuckle before you couldn't help but speed out of the shop and flew out.

You couldn't handle him, he was shameless when showing this side of him.. how could he be this shameless and normal?? How could he act like this and be proud about it? He killed people and doesn't regret it, you being the only exception just didn't feel right and it wasn't fair!

Not to you.

He may have been able to silently control you and vaguely manipulate you to believe he was anything but a bad person back when you were alive and young but now your eyes are wide open and so is your heart.

You have such a bad feeling about this whole thing, he was up to no good he just couldn't be-- he had to be using the princess as an excuse to do something shitty.

Good thing you had plenty of connections, if you just played your cards right...

Hey.. wasn't there something about a court meeting happening soon?

On the other hand Alastor stayed sitting there still chucking devilishly, his intentions and true feelings smeared and unclear.

With a snap of his fingers a cup of black coffee appeared and he began drinking it with a sense of casual glee and eyes closed in delight. Until he felt eyes on him, two nearby to be exact. He opened one eye to look at the angels staring at him and they both seemed like more biblically accurate angels, both having one eye and all. The radio demon shot them an evil grin.

"Oh adolescents these days, rebellious aren't they." He cackled before going back to drinking his coffee, the angels creeped out by his interaction soon scurried away from him.

The fear. He enjoyed it, just not really from you.

(thank you all who asked for part 2!! of course I had to deliver since you all really wanted it and honestly I love adding flashbacks to memories Alastor and the reader had when they were alive, makes their ending on earth just that more painful (as if it wasn't clear I love angst). Honestly I don't mind making more parts for this! If the demand is consistent and you guys still want to keep up with it I have a few ideas to keep this going! Once again thank you so much for reading!! Now I must finish writing for other stories lolllll!)

(p.s: i highly recommend listening to any mitski song while reading this I think it fits well especially with the flashback scene hehe)

[cleoluvrr]

black magnolias II - rafe cameron x reader

i gave you all my light, and i got nothing to show for it

WARNINGS: mature content; domestic violence, coercion, classism, religious trauma, manipulative behavior, stalking, toxic relationship, blackmail

masterlist

series masterlist

you’d met rafe before you met anyone else. 

your mom grew up with his father and the two of them were good friends during childhood. she’d told you the stories of their life in the cut, how she looked out for him, and he did the same for her. how she believed in him when nobody else did, taking days off school to work extra shifts just so he could have the money to get everything he needed before he went off to college. 

you were sure that they were much more than friends, but you never questioned her about it too deeply. it was none of you business; both of them were married to other people, anyways. they’d kept in touch over the years and rekindled their friendship when he moved back to kildare.

as you got older, you wondered if he felt guilty for leaving your mom behind. if all the things he did for you and your family was some way to make himself feel better. he paid for your grade school tuition and covered whatever your scholarship didn’t in high school. he got your mom a job working for cameron development–it paid way more than what she made at her old one. you remember going to holiday parties a couple times a year at tannyhill when you were younger; running around with other kids and playing by the water while your mother scolded you not to get too close.

you wondered if your mother fell deeper into religion after his passing, but once again, you never questioned it.

that was when rafe found you. before he became the monster that everyone knows him as, he was just a regular boy. he was sweet and funny. he never looked down his nose at you for being from the cut. corruption and heartbreak had not yet found him, and that was the rafe you knew. the one you loved. the lines of friendship and intimacy had blurred at some point in your time knowing him.

maybe it was his mom leaving that broke him, or his dad taking his grief and anger out on him that changed everything. maybe it was the popularity, the drugs, or understanding the power of money as he grew older. you weren’t sure when things went so wrong.

that was when kiara became your life vest. she was the only one that didn’t judge you for being a pogue. rafe didn’t, but he was turning into something you didn’t like anymore. someone you didn’t recognize.

it was also when you met jj. he was like rafe in a lot of ways; blonde, short-tempered, and impulsive. daddy issues and no mom, lost in the world and using drugs to escape the pain of their reality. another pair of sad, blue eyes that sucked you into their depths. another line blurred.

when you turned to face rafe you nearly gasped, teeth biting down on the soft flesh of your tongue to keep the sound from escaping. his icy blue eyes bore into your wide, nervous ones. the two orbs traveled down the entirety of your body in a way that gave you goosebumps everywhere they landed. 

he looked just as you remembered; tall, handsome, and fear-inducing. your heart was beating against your ribcage violently as you fought to stay still, feet planted firmly into the soft sand beneath you. the man made your skin prickle from being too close but you refused to move.

“oh, rafe, you’re still alive.” you voice barely quivered, unnoticeable to everyone except him. you hated the way he could feel the nerves radiating off of you in waves. it was the one thing he was the best at; reading you. “that’s…gotta be good for somebody, i guess.”

“don’t be like that,” his teeth were the same bright white that they always were, perfect and blinding as they bared down in a sinister smile. while rafe’s tone was light and teasing on the surface, you could clearly sense something beneath it that had you swallowing thickly. “you know you missed me.”

you didn’t dignify that statement with a response.

 looking past him at the brunette girl watching from a distance, you studied her closely. your brow twitched upward reflexively, eyes catching hers as the two of you stared each other down. she didn’t look familiar to you at all, but it was clear that she knew who rafe was if her glaring was any indication. 

she was pretty; her tanned skin glowing under the burning sun and shoulder length waves blowing in the slight breeze. 

the girl looked nothing like you.

“doesn’t seem like you missed me.” you hummed in response.

rafe turned his head, eyes following yours to find the dark-haired girl on the other end of your gaze. 

she tore away from the staredown to meet the steely-blue of the man before you and smiled, her teeth just as perfect as the person she was showing them off to. rafe barely reacted to her display, simply gifting her a slight nod of acknowledgment before turning back to you. 

“nah, she’s just…”he shook his head in denial, tongue escaping his mouth to wet his chapped lips. “we’re just friends. nothing serious.”

you shrugged at him nonchalantly, the sound of your friends clearing their throats behind you serving as a reminder of how uncomfortable they must be with him so close after everything that’s happened. you felt sarah grab your hand, her fingers knitting with yours.

“i don’t care if you’re friends, more than friends–whatever you wanna call it.” your tone was dismissive and slightly cold, a nautical edge to your voice as you bit the words out. “we aren’t together anymore. you don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

as much as you wish the words that left your mouth were true; they weren’t.

you missed him. as messed up as it was, you missed rafe in ways that you knew you shouldn’t. ways that would get you shunned by your friends if you were to ever confess to them. the man had done the worst things imaginable to all of the pogues, including you. it made no sense to be jealous of some girl that he may, or may not, be dating now, especially given how the two of you ended things.

yet, you could feel your stomach turning at the thought of it.

of course you hated him for what he did to your friends, to you. he showed you what kind of person he was hiding beneath the surface of what he put on display to you. but you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t still think about him late at night; about what could have been had things not gone south the way they did. you standing in front of him and all your friends, telling him that you don’t care who he talks to anymore, was a lie.

but you still do it. you still do it because, what other choice did you have?

“yeah, right. i’m not,” he nodded in agreement with you about not needing to defend his actions. “jus’ didn’t want anyone getting the wrong idea.”

“right…” you replied monotonously.

kiara cleared her throat behind you, subtly letting you know that the interaction had been going on for far too long. you don’t stop her and sarah from pulling you away from rafe without any goodbye, the conversation ending as abruptly as it started.

“nice seeing you, y/n.” rafe’s voice was loud enough to be heard over the buzz of the surrounding crowd. he didn’t need to raise his volume, but he did nothing without reason. he knew who was there at the beach and he wanted them to hear, wanted them to know exactly who he was talking to.

the buzzed-blonde was met with silence once again. his gaze was both scorching and chilling, the feeling of his watchful eyes on your back as you retreated to find the rest of your friends. you were sweating, both from your anxiety and the bright sun beating down onto the sand.

cleo was kneeling into the soft ground fiddling with jj’s bike with pope and john b not too far away. you didn’t notice jj had been watching the whole time until your eyes met, his brows furrowed and a look of interrogation behind the pale blue. white knuckles gripped the rim of his helmet–he was angry.

you’d started picking at your nails nervously, already knowing the conversation that was in store.

“what was that?” the shaggy-haired boy immediately confronted you as soon as you were within earshot. you shrugged, avoiding eye contact. jj scoffed at your refusal to answer verbally and set the helmet down on the seat of the old bike. “don’t give me that shit, y/n. what was that?”

the other pogues watched you two closely, the tension thick and salty in the air.

“it was nothing, jj, chill out.” you said defensively.

“it didn’t look like ‘nothing’ to me.”

“okay, well,” you scoffed at the boy and finally raised your head to meet his scrutinizing gaze. “that's what it was. so…”

he didn’t seem to appreciate that answer. jj laughed humorously, the dry sound escaping his mouth in a bark of irritation. sensing another verbal brawl on the rise, pope was close behind his friend, body tense as he prepared to pull the boy away before things got out of hand.

“jj, it’s not that serious.” pope said gently into his ear in an effort to calm him down. “just let it go.”

“she’s talking to rafe cameron! that sounds pretty fucking serious to me.”

the brown-skinned boy stumbled back stlight as jj shoved him off his shoulder. cleo stood from her position on the ground at the commotion and kiara tensed beside you.

“jj, back off.” kiara spoke up. underneath the softness of her voice was a warning. you weren’t sure for what, but it was something that made the blond shake his head, clearly frustrated and displeased by the lack of anyone on his side.

not wanting to participate in another standoff with your friend, you let your legs carry you off somewhere safe from the fuming teen. familiar voices reprimanded him for his outburst but became more muffled the farther away you got, lost in the sound of all the commotion of the race.

jj hated rafe cameron. all of the pogues hated the kook prince, it was a given considering all that he had done, but jj despised him. 

before the gold changed everything about your lives, before sarah and cleo, jj had harbored a deep hatred of the eldest cameron child. not because he was entitled and classist; most kooks were like that, it came with the territory. no–it was because he was jealous. 

jj was jealous because no matter what rafe did, no matter how many times he sent you to his doorstep teary-eyed and stuttering, or feverish with a core-deep anger, you wouldn’t leave him. he thought rafe was not good for you, and maybe he was right, but you didn’t care then. you truly believed the boy would come to his senses some day, and you didn’t care how long you had to wait.

you never meant to string jj along, but deep in the back of your mind you knew you were.

it broke him to know that he would always come second as long as rafe was around. eventually he moved on to someone he could love without heartache, and that someone happened to be your best friend. his feelings for you never went away, and everyone knew it, even if they all pretended not to. including you. the guilt consumes you less that way.

the longing stares and lingering touches. the hesitant, curious kisses shared in the chateau’s backyard while everyone else was fast asleep. cleaning him up after bad scuff-ups with luke and letting him stay over at your house. the soft moonlight casting over you as you embraced each other beneath your covers, nimble fingers reaching up to wipe the silent tears that fell from his eyes. all distant memories that you both tried to forget about completely to keep the integrity of your; to salvage whatever remained.

but in that moment of jj confronting you, everyone saw what was beneath all the smoke and mirrors. rafe was stirring up trouble on purpose–he always did.

so it was no surprise that when the racers came back around for their final lap, with jj in the lead and rafe close on his tail, something had to happen to ruin the peace. 

“c’mon jayj!” kiara shouted at the boy speeding down the sand trail. “you got it, baby!”

“let’s go jj…” you whispered to yourself, far too sick to let the words leave your mouth fully. your were gnawing on your manicured fingernails, noting in your mind that they would need to be redone before the weekend ended and you had to be back at work. 

what the hell is rafe doing?

the older one was dangerously close to your friend. the wheels of his bike were nipping at jj’s as he made an effort to overtake his lead. john b wasn’t too far behind, but topper was on him too, the two boys fighting to get the best of each other amongst the rest of the group.

a wave of shock washed over the crowd as rafe rammed into jj, the pair of blonds flying out of their seats and landing harshly in the sand. a hand flew to your mouth to muffle your gasp. there was barely time to react before the large group of bikes not too far behind came full speed towards the finish line, engines roaring just as loud as the throng of people around you. you barely noticed topper crossing the finish line, too busy rushing out to check on the boy writhing in pain.

before you could reach them, jj shoved john b off of him in anger.

your brows furrowed together in concern, the sight of the scuffle both worrying and sending confusion through you. jj made eye contact with you from the distance and threw his helmet down before stalking off, everyone staring after him with a puzzled and disappointed expression.

“get used to it!” your head whipped around to see rafe pushing off the ground, his black racing suit covered in sand. he was clearly in pain, a hand cradling his neck and a slight limp in his stride as he approached the cheering crowd.

“what’d you say?” john b heard him as well, furious eyes searching for rafe’s figure momentarily. he stomped up to him and shoved the taller roughly as he spoke. “hey, what’d you say? huh?”

“john b!” you called out to him as you briskly walked towards the commotion. “john b, no! just leave it alone.”

rafe shoved him in return, the brunette stumbling backwards from the attack. sarah got in between them before it got any further, the blonde pushing the two boys out of the way as she scolded her brother.

“you could have killed each other!” she yelled, teeth bared and face red with rage.

rafe’s face was mostly stoic, eyes rolling just barely at his sister’s words.

“yeah, like you give a shit.”

sarah almost looked offended, but she didn’t respond immediately.

“you gonna kill me, like you killed dad?”

“rafe!” you finally spoke up in defense of your friend, mouth dropping open in disbelief at the words that fell from his lips. “what the fuck is your problem?”

you followed behind him when he kept walking, strides long to keep up with his own. the brunette girl he claimed to be “just friends” with was waiting for him a short distance away and you watched as his arms wrapped around her, celebrating as if he’d won the race. 

your jaw clenched as envy clawed its way up your spine.

“why do you have to do that?” your eyes were hard as you stared him down from your spot on the beach. disgust was etched into your face, hackles raising as the girl leaned into his side with a content look on her. “you haven’t won enough? like…wh-what do you even get out of doing shit like that, rafe? you both could’ve gotten seriously hurt, and for what! winning? again?”

kiara was right behind you the moment she recognized the sound of your yelling piercing her ears, the girl taking no time to back you up. her scent filled your nose as she stood inches away, the smell bringing you some calm as your skin burned hot.

“no,” rafe wore a smug look, lips quirked up in a smirk that only fueled the fire inside you. “no, no. i don’t care about winning; i always win.”

rafe let go of the brunette hanging off him, nose flaring as he took in a deep breath of the fresh ocean air. his eyes were locked on yours, the color reflecting the water crashing against the sand behind you.

kiara backed away, the warmth of her body leaving yours as she took three steps in the other direction. she refused to let him get too close to her, the fear she felt after what he did to her understandable. you didn’t move, though. you stood your ground and let him stand before you. the distance between your bodies was so small you could smell the mint on his breath from his chewing gum and the familiar scent of his cologne flooded your senses.

“i always win, and your pogues always lose.” his voice reverberated deep inside as he smiled down at you, the expression sickeningly sweet.

you swallowed thickly, body tingling from his closeness. god, how you wish he couldn’t make you feel like this anymore.

his breath was hot against your ear as he leaned in further, voice low so that only you could hear.

“you picked the wrong boyfriend, baby…” faux pity coated his words. his lips brushed against the skin of your ear, and you took in a shaky breath, anger quickly dissipated as your body froze in place “could always come back, y’now, when you’re done losing with ‘em.”

rafe pulled back and you looked up at him, eyes glossy and lips slightly agape as you tried to steady your breathing without anyone noticing.

he always did.

“good seeing you, kie.” he never took his eyes off you as he backed away, retreating to the fling waiting for him to return to her grasp. “and i’m serious, y/n.”