#lmk if I’m way out in left field lol

[yotter-otter]

So, I rewatched Yellow Jacket and noticed something that has interesting implications. At the end, when Lex and Hannah are driving away, Hannah says “I think something like this is happening everywhere.” Meaning that in timelines that don’t have an apocalypse, Lex and Hannah always leave Hatchetfield in October of 2020. So, depending on when Nerdy Prudes Must Die takes place, Lex and Hannah might have already left Hatchetfield and therefore won’t be in the show

[nereidprinc3ss]

do you believe me now? | 3

in which spencer reid spends a rainy day teaching inexperienced fem!reader how to touch him. of course, her efforts don't go unrecognized, much less unrewarded

series masterlist

18+ (smut) warnings: inexperienced reader, softdom!spencer, sub reader, oral m receiving, reader swallows lol, a truly sickening amount of praise, like really, you JOKINGLY refer to each other as dirty sluts, r has longish hair, spit mentioned once, thigh riding (moans loudly), its filthy idk what to tell you, i feel like i've crossed the desert on foot i don't even know what else is in here, your honor they're in love, i take you to dinner first, this part is stupidly long a/n: had a fucking field day the three separate times i had to rewrite this el oh el... but think i like how it turned out?! anyway, if u like this PLS lmk bc writing it took a small piece of my soul, and yes there will be a part four!! take care of yourselves!! i love you!!!

You give Spencer half a minute or so before knocking on his door for a second time. 

It’s miserable outside, and though the hallway you’re standing in now isn’t terribly cold, you’d much prefer to be in Spencer’s apartment, where it will be the same toasty 68.5 degrees as always. Not that the heating will magically dry you. And not that you’ll be there for long, if the date you’d scheduled last week goes on as planned. 

You’re getting worried, about to knock for a third time when the locks finally click and the door opens to reveal a disheveled Spencer Reid—not at all looking ready for a date. You take in his ensemble; blue checked pajama pants, FBI Academy crewneck, the usual questionably paired socks. He’s rubbing his droopy eyes, which slowly widen as he notices your attire. 

“Shit, I’m sorry, our date! I mean—you look really nice. I look… like this. Why don’t you come in while I get ready to go?”

He holds the door open a little wider and you step through, relishing in the familiar warmth as you pull your hood down and excess water droplets spatter on the ground. 

“When did you get in?” you ask, hanging your raincoat up on a hook. You know he’d wrapped up a case yesterday evening, but you’d gone to sleep before the team left Cincinnati. 

Spencer pauses in the middle of the room, staring at the antique flooring like he forgot what he was doing. 

“Uh… four hours ago.”

“Wh—four hours? Spencer, you must be exhausted.”

He laughs awkwardly, running a tired hand over his face. 

“I mean… I’ve definitely felt better.”

You kick your soaked shoes off and cross the room until you’re toe to toe with him. Immediately his hands settle on your waist and yours find his arms. His eyes are kind, and he’s clearly pleased by your presence despite his lack of energy. 

“The weather’s terrible, anyway. Let’s just go out another day.”

His features have softened and you can see how tired he truly is—not just in his bleary eyes, but the way his fingers grasp weakly to you, the way his head bows slightly. It seems bone-deep. 

“But I haven’t seen you in a week. I don’t want you to go home.”

Your lips twist. A clap of thunder rolls in the distance and the rain starts coming down even harder against the windowpanes. 

“We could hang out here. We can take a nap!”

Spencer sighs—half resignation, half disappointment. 

“But we made such good plans,” he laments. 

You kiss his cheek. 

“Plans that can be rescheduled. The bookstore will still be there next weekend.”

It takes him a moment to settle into the idea, but you watch the exhaustion win. 

“Okay. But no nap. I want to be awake for you. Coffee?”

You nod enthusiastically, beaming at the prospect of getting to spend the day doing nothing with him. Spencer mirrors your grin, before pressing a kiss to your head.

“You’re so cute.” Heat creeps into your cheeks and you can’t think of a satisfactory reply, but in the end you don’t need to, as he tugs gently on your hands. “C’mon. Tell me what mug you want.”

The kitchen counter bites into your palms as you lean with your back to it, watching Spencer putter all around the kitchen as he works on the coffee. It makes you tired just to watch. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to take a nap? Caffeine isn’t a substitute for sleep, you know.”

“I do know,” he agrees, measuring coffee grounds. “But other than last night, I actually slept fairly well this week.”

“You seem exhausted.”

“I… am tired in lots of ways. Not all of which can be resolved with more sleep.” he admits.

Your heart drops ever so slightly at the way his voice weakens as he looks through the fridge. Sometimes you remember there are still things you don’t know about him—sides you haven’t met. His work side is one of them, and it more than a little intimidates you.

“Bad case?” you ask, voice quiet and crackling with nervous energy. 

Spencer nods, approaching and setting a carton of milk on the counter behind you—caging you in with his arms in the process. It’s hard to find the words when he’s this close, but you manage to stumble through them. 

“Do… do you wanna talk about it?”

Spencer hums, tilting his head before gently saying, “not right now. But thank you for offering, lovely.”

“Okay, well—if you change your mind… if there’s anything I can do to make you feel better…”

Finally he stops with the teasing—the unabashed staring at your lips, the faux-attentive nods—and drops his head to your level to kiss you properly. It’s obviously an attempt to get you to shut up, you’re not dumb enough so as to miss that—but you don’t really care why he’s doing it so long as he does it at all. 

“I feel pretty great right now, actually,” he murmurs against your lips, a hint of a smile coloring his words. “Do you want sugar in yours?”

“Um…”

Your eyes dart helplessly between his as he pulls away and you struggle to un-fluster yourself enough to answer his simple question. Spencer seems to delight in this. The longer it takes you, the bigger his perfect smile gets. 

“You took too long. You’re getting sugar.”

“Are you sure there’s nothing I can do?” you plead later on the couch, for the third or fourth time, setting your mostly-empty mug on the coffee table. 

His eyebrows raise. 

“I’m sure, honey.”

“But I want to help,” you pout, pulling your knees into your chest. Spencer regards you for a moment from the other end of the couch, before beckoning you closer wordlessly. 

“You are helping,” he assures you, gently grabbing your wrist as you crawl into his lap. He rubs soothing circles into the delicate skin with his thumb. “You being here and being you is plenty.”

It’s the closest you’ve been to him since before he left, and while you’ve all but given up on asking him to sleep with you, it doesn’t mean you don’t think about it multiple times per day. It’s especially difficult to keep your thoughts PG when you haven’t seen him in a week, and his hair is all messy, and he’s got his pajamas on, and you’re in his lap, and he’s looking at you like that. 

“What are you thinking about?” Spencer murmurs, likely concerned by your lack of response and the glazed-over look in your eyes. You reanimate, averting your gaze to the spot on your thigh he’s now rubbing absentmindedly. 

“Nothing. I just missed you.”

“I missed you a lot, too.” You don’t even have to look up to know that his brows have twisted into a pleasant sort of bemusement, like you are a particularly complex puzzle—you can hear it as he continues speaking. “I’m still not used to having something external take up so much of my attention while I’m trying to do my job. I’ve never had that before. Not something good, anyway. It’s like every time I leave, I’m thinking about you more than the time before. And I was already thinking about you a lot.”

The corner of your mouth twitches as he rambles. 

“Really?”

“Yeah, really,” he chuckles. “You prove to be incredibly distracting even when you’re hundreds of miles away. Do you know how many nights I almost called you before realizing it was one in the morning?”

A slow smile spreads over your face. 

“Oh? Whatever could you have been calling about at one in the morning?”

You’re teasing him, and it works. He blushes adorably. 

“Um… probably exactly what you’d expect. In hindsight I think it’s best that I refrained.”

“What?” You grin, incredulous, forgetting your shyness and leaning closer. “You totally should’ve. I’ve never had phone sex before. I would’ve done it.”

“No, you wouldn’t!” Spencer laughs. “It would have just been me talking to myself with you on the other line. I don’t think phone sex is really up your alley.”

“Shut up,” you laugh as your lips meet. He smiles into the kiss. Before you get too lost in it, you pull away, leaning back when he tries to follow you. “I think you’re over-complicating it. It’s just dirty talk, right? I can totally do that. It’s just, like… blah blah blah, dirty slut, something something…”

You trail off as he gives you a look. Poker faced—aside from the slightly narrowed eyes sparkling with humor. 

“You want me to refer to you as a dirty slut?”

Maintaining eye contact is an uphill battle—you crack in a matter of seconds, resting your forehead against his and closing your eyes stubbornly. 

“No. For all you know I want to call you a dirty slut.”

It’s a ridiculous, but he recognizes the bravado for what it is, still smiling slightly as he rubs your hips. 

“Right. I apologize for assuming. But just for future reference, I don’t want to be called that, and I don’t think I’d be comfortable calling you that, either.”

“But you can call me other stuff,” you remind your boyfriend, pulling back and still not looking at him. 

“Yeah? Like what?”

And just like that, you’re shy again. 

“I don’t know… nice things. I like when you’re nice.”

“I like being nice to you.” It’s so sincere-sounding that you meet his gaze, examining his face. His eyes are clear and soft on you, the only source of warm light on such a grey day, as his hands keep running slow lines over your sides. “Kiss?”

And how could you ever deny him anything? 

As has happened before, the kiss starts out innocent enough. And it’s not that it gets particularly heated, or anything—it’s just that it doesn’t end, and after a few moments your mouth slips open and so does his and that’swhat gets both of you worked up over a period of minutes. Pressure and heat that you’re becoming accustomed to build between your legs, and you don’t even notice that you’ve begun rocking back and forth in his lap until Spencer is attempting to still your hips with patient but assertive hands. 

“Honey, that’s—slow down, sweetheart.”

Finally he gets a grip on you and you realize as soon as you stop moving that there had been friction occurring—and you’re pretty damn sure you know what you were grinding against. 

Your whole body feels hot with arousal and embarrassment. 

“Oh my god—I’m sorry,” you mumble, moving your hands from his shoulders to cover your face. “That was an accident, I—”

“It’s fine,” Spencer assures you, squeezing your waist gently. “I just wanted to make sure you knew what you were doing because I know we haven’t… gotten there, yet.”

A moment passes—your hands fall to the FBI stitching across his chest, studying the letters without really seeing them. You haven’t gotten there yet… but why not? Why haven’t you touched him, or even seen him? You think back to the few times he’s touched you and realize that you had been too busy with either your own insecurities or pleasure to genuinely consider how it might be affecting him. He says your name gently, drawing your attention. 

“You okay?”

You nod haltingly, brow furrowed as you think. 

“I—yeah. I was just realizing that I haven’t, like… touched you, yet.”

It’s silent for another long second, and you glance up, to where he’s studying you with a dissonant kind of relaxed scrutiny—a knowing confidence that probably comes with a lot more experience than you have. 

“Do you want to?”

Woah. 

Usually you have to beg on hands and knees and prepare a slideshow presentation before he agrees to doing anything sexual in nature. He’s never so overtly invited or initiated it before. Not that you’re complaining by any stretch of the imagination.  

You nod shyly, still fiddling with the fabric of his shirt. 

“If you want to, I can show you how. But it’s also absolutely okay if you don’t.”

Show you how? 

Your brain is melting into sludge at the idea. 

“I do,” you admit, meeting his gaze again. It’s kind, and you know he really wouldn’t be upset if you said no—but now that you’ve thought about it, you feel deeply compelled to try. 

“Okay. Come here, first.” You lean forward expectantly, eyes fluttering shut as his hand finds the back of your neck and he pulls you into another soft kiss. By the time your lips separate again, your head is spinning. “We’re just trying something, okay? You’re allowed to stop whenever you feel like it. Really low stakes. Got it?”

You nod, still close enough that your noses brush as you do. 

“Got it.”

He presses one more chaste kiss to your lips before pulling away and leaning back into the couch. 

“Scoot back a little, angel.”

Wordlessly you do so, heart pounding with nervous excitement as he lifts his hips and slides his pajama pants down just enough to where he can comfortably pull himself out, and—

Your breath catches. 

Now, you may be about as virginal as they come, but you weren’t born yesterday. You’ve seen porn, you’ve received unsolicited nudes—it is the 21st century. Yet never before have you thought to yourself; wow, that dick is the pinnacle of beauty. Perfect. Breathtaking. But there’s just no other way to describe him. 

So that’s what hits you first—how unexpectedly pretty it is. 

The size sinks in a quick second later. 

You can’t tell with perfect accuracy how many inches he is, but you’re pretty damn sure he’s big. That’s meant to fit inside of you?

No, no—that’s a consideration for another day. Right now you need to stop staring like an idiot. You glance up at his face, and he’s sporting a cocky little half-smile which lets you know you’ve been caught. Motherfucker he’s so hot. It’s unnerving. 

“Do you have something you’d like to say?” he asks politely, quite obviously containing his amusement. But you can’t summon a sufficiently sarcastic response. 

Your voice comes so soft when you reply, “you’re pretty.”

Spencer melts, eyes impossibly softening. 

“Pretty?” His smile is earnest now. He strokes your cheek and you can’t not lean into his touch. 

“Mhm. I want to, um…” your lips twist to the side as you look back down, finding he’s not gotten less intimidating since you last checked. “But what if I’m bad at it?” you whisper. He chuckles, brushing hair over your shoulder.  

“It’s kind of a hard thing to be bad at. And I’m gonna help you, okay?”

It’s the honesty with which he speaks to you that makes you feel so safe. There are no hidden intentions or words that seem to mean one thing but really mean another. Spencer wants you as a person more than he wants you as a body and that’s been clear since the first time he touched you. You take a deep breath. 

“Okay. What do I do?”

“First, you’re gonna spit in your hand.”

You look up, alarmed. 

“You want me to intentionally get my spit on you? Is that not your worst nightmare?”

“Believe it or not, I’m not super worried about yours,” he teases. “But if you’d prefer, I can spit in your hand.”

“Actually, mine is fine,” you laugh nervously. 

Hesitantly, you do as instructed, even though it seems frankly bizarre. 

“Good. Now just wrap your hand around it, like this.” His voice is quiet, focused as he guides your hand downward. Your heart rate ticks up again as he encourages you to wrap your hand around the base of his cock. He feels much warmer than you’d expected—his skin is silken beneath your touch but he’s undeniably hard and that sort of eliminates any sense of him being fragile from the equation. 

“It’s gonna be less sensitive down here—and then, up here—” he slides your hand back up, covering your thumb with his own and swiping it just below the head of his cock on the underside. He hisses and you look up in fascination. “That’s the most sensitive part.”

Without further instruction, you do it again, keeping your touch light and watching his face for a reaction. His drawn brows twitch, furrowing deeper for a second, and his lips part. A heavy exhalation passes between them and quickly builds into a breathy laugh. 

“What?” you murmur, over-eager to please and very nervous to do something wrong. 

“Nothing. Just feels good, that’s all.”

“Don’t laugh,” you pout. Of course that makes him laugh again, and he leans forward to kiss your head. 

“I’m laughing at myself, angel. I’m a grown man fighting for my life from a handjob that you’ve barely started. I knew it would be different with you but I didn’t realize it would be this different.”

Heat rises in your cheeks and you look away. 

“You don’t have to lie to make me feel better.”

“I’m not lying,” he urges, grabbing your free hand and encouraging you to uncurl your fingers. His thumb traces circles in your open palm, before capturing your entire hand in his. “Do you feel how much softer your hand is than mine?”

You frown, attempting to feel whatever it is that he’s pointing out. Despite the fact that you think he has very nice hands, you realize he’s right. By no means would you say that they’re rough, but you can tell where his gun normally sits in his hands, where his fountain pen rubs against his fingers. “Yeah.”

“Yeah. Anything you do is going to be perfect because it’s you.”

Spencer drops his hand to your leg, rubbing it soothingly. The other moves to cover yours—the one wrapped around him. 

“You’re gonna help me, right?” you ask quietly. Some adventurous part of you is very excited about this as an experiment—fascinated by the reactions you’ve already gotten from him and eager to push it. 

“I am. Little bit tighter, honey. I’ll tell you if it’s too much.”

You do as you’re told, and he’s murmuring more praise—slowly encouraging you to begin moving your hand with his own. A shaky exhale catches your attention, drawing your gaze to his face. His eyes are, of course, cast downward, but his expression is hypnotizing. Those lips remain slightly parted, and suddenly you wonder if he makes noises like you do. In that moment it becomes your life’s mission to find out. 

For a while you continue letting his hand guide your movements, but he keeps things so slow for your sake that you’re getting impatient. You forgo his direction, picking up the pace but trying to keep the rhythm he’d instilled in the motion. His hand slackens around yours. 

“Fuck,” he hisses to himself. The hand on your thigh rubs achingly deeper into the flesh. “Angel, what are you doing?”

“I want it to feel good.” Suddenly shy again, you slow down. His hips stutter, which you think may be a sign that it was working. “Am I—was that bad?” Spencer looses a breath, looking almost… frustrated?

“No, I’m just—I’m weirdly close to coming.”

“That’s a good thing, right?”

“Well,” he mutters, “not usually. Mostly it’s embarrassing.”

You giggle, a release of some tension, and begin pumping your hand again. His breath hitches and he finally looks up at you, meeting your eyes with his own lust-glazed ones. Heat pools deep between your legs. 

“I want you to come,” you admit quietly as you twist your wrist, brushing that spot underneath the head of his cock again. His jaw literally drops, and a look that is part confusion, part pleasure, twists his features. You see the surprise sparkling in his eyes and it only spurs you to keep talking. “I’ve never seen how you look when you do, but I’ve imagined it. I bet you look so pretty when you come, Spencer. ‘Nd then I would know that I can make you feel good, too.”

“You… you are making me feel good,” he assures you. The way his brow furrows and his  lips are parted give you a feeling that’s entirely new. Normally, you’re the one falling apart under his touch—but when it’s the other way around there’s a whole new kind of pleasure in it for you. You feel kind of powerful. Maybe even close to confident. 

“Really? I’m not this quiet when you touch me.”

“I’ve ha—ah—had more practice not making noise.”

“But why?” you implore, ignoring the fact that he’s slept with other women and enjoyed the sounds they made, and opting to brush your thumb across that extra sensitive part he definitely shouldn’t have told you about. His hips buck up and he hisses, which is immensely gratifying to you. 

“Because I like to listen.”

“What if I do, too?”

In a moment of divine inspiration , you cover the tip of his cock with your hand, swirling beads of pre-come over your palm. Spencer moans and his hips jut up into your grip. It’s a beautiful sound, just as you’d hoped. 

“Jesus, fuck.”

You understand why he seems to enjoy touching you so much. It’s so rewarding to watch as his breathing picks up and pleasure contorts his face—to watch him get messier and messier and lose his composure a bit more with each stroke of your hand. It’s so simple but Spencer looks at you like you’re exercising some arcane deviant power over him and he’s not sure he should be enjoying it as much as he is. 

Distantly you think about how it felt when he had his hands on you—and then, in clearer focus, how it felt when he went down on you. Both were perfect, but something about his lips so gentle on the most intimate, vulnerable part of you had felt like ascension. Maybe it was the emotional component, or maybe it just felt fucking good. Regardless, it seems an irresistible thought. 

You keep stroking him until his head is lolling on the back of the couch as he groans.

“Spencer?”

“Yeah, baby?”

He sounds so destroyed it makes you clench around nothing. Without any indication that you’re going to do so, you stop touching him, and the speed with which he lifts his head again is almost comical. Immediately, while he’s utterly defenseless and desperate, you ask, “can I use my mouth?” 

His eyes widen, and then shut, as he processes your request with a tiny shake of his head—probably trying to clear the haze of pleasure from his mind before he answers. 

“Honey,” he rasps eventually, opening his eyes and smoothing a hand over your hair, “you don’t have to do that just because I do. That’s not why I do it.”

“But I want to,” you murmur, shy and mildly embarrassed by what feels almost like a soft rejection. “I don’t think I could do anything, like, mind-blowing, but… I want to try.”

Your face is hot by the end of the sentence, and you can’t meet Spencer’s eyes as his fingers twitch over your hip. A quiet moment passes—but it’s short-lived.

“Okay. Go ahead, baby.”

Wide eyes dart up to his. 

“Really?”

Spencer smiles fondly, brushing an invisible speck from your cheek. 

“I don’t think I’m capable of turning that offer down. Not when it’s you.”

“Okay—um, should I just—” Spencer watches on, finding your sudden enthusiasm completely adorable as you scoot off of his lap and gingerly kneel in front of him. Your eyes are big and glassy as you look up at him, hands set politely on his knees. You squint suspiciously, eyes darting between his face and his cock, now about as hard as it’s ever been due to your toying. He knows it’s probably intimidating for a girl who has never seen one in real life, and he feels kind of bad about it. You do terrible, wonderful things to him that he doesn’t understand. “Wow. So... it looks bigger from down here.”

“Please don’t try to choke yourself,” he instructs hurriedly, leaning forward slightly. “I really don’t need you to do that. It’s fine if you can’t fit it all, I just—” he exhales shakily. Spencer is most definitely strong-willed but he can’t pretend like the sight of you on your knees for him, inches from his aching cock for the first time isn’t impacting his cognition. Most importantly he doesn’t want to make you feel pressured. He’s trying to not let how badly he wants this show in case you change your mind. 

Spencer watches as you psych yourself out—wilting like a thirsty flower. 

“But what if I’m bad at this?” you mumble, hands curling into loose fists atop his legs. Spencer pushes your hair back, tucking it behind your ears. 

“What’s your worst case scenario?” he asks. Your answer is immediate. 

“That I’m so bad you make me stop halfway through.”

Spencer can’t help but laugh again. 

“I’m sorry—I just… honey, you are really underestimating how profound your effect is on me. I just almost came from a minute long handjob. I can assure you that I won’t make you stop halfway through because I’d rather not have your mouth on me. That is… that’s just not going to happen.”

You lean your cheek against his thigh. He might actually pass away. 

“Will you tell me if I’m doing something wrong?”

“Honestly, as long as you don’t bite, you’re in the clear.”

Your eyes squeeze shut and your lips pull into an embarrassed little smile. 

“Great. Thank you for that invaluable advice.”

“Of course,” he smiles. It fades slowly as you take a deep breath and look up at him, obviously steeling yourself, before leaning forward and taking him in your hand again. He watches with bated breath, repeating no sudden movements to himself over and over as your hand moves up and down a few more times and your head lowers. 

You delicately, so lightly trace your tongue from the base of his swollen cock to just underneath the leaking tip, mapping a vein, and his hips buck as you take him into your mouth experimentally. Only the first few inches fit but the sight of your lips wrapped around him, the way you’re looking at him is so unbelievably erotic Spencer knows he won’t last very long.

From a purely technical perspective—he knows he’s gotten objectively better head. Still, something about the way you’re so delicate with him, so soft and timid in the way you lick and kiss and take him into your mouth has him fighting not to come already. Maybe it’s wrong, but knowing that he’s watching you do this for the first time in your life is obscenely arousing. The idea that you’ve never trusted another person this much; that you’re letting him be the one to help you navigate something as new and as important as sexuality. The more he thinks about it, though, the more he realizes: it’s not your inexperience that turns him on. It’s just you. Everything you do is so undeniably you—he recognizes your mannerisms in every tiny motion, in every glance, and it’s killing him. You’re like a dream as you look up at him with big nervous eyes, (no, really, he has had this dream) and he remembers he wants to be reassuring you—not pondering life and human connection. 

“Look at you,” he murmurs, groaning and hips twitching as your cheeks hollow, wrapping his achingly hard cock in soft gentle warmth so sweetly it feels taboo. “So good, baby. So gorgeous like this.”

You whine around him, receptive as always to his obsequious praise, and he notices the way your hips wiggle as you seek friction. God, you must like this a lot. Spencer gathers your hair into a makeshift ponytail, resting his hand on your head as you begin to bob it. That, he wasn’t prepared for. He’d have been satisfied with just kitten-licks and suckling but he won’t complain about this. It’s slow, and so intentional as you keep watching him for feedback cues. Ever his observant girl, you’re constantly paying attention. Aware of his reactions. He needs to keep telling you you’re good or else you’ll assume you’re terrible. 

“Over-achiever,” he whispers through a little smile as you down even more of him. 

Spencer is for the most part a kind and gentle person. For better or worse he is also a man, and he can’t help but fantasize about getting you all teary and drooly as he holds your mouth open and sees how much of his cock he can push down your throat. But again—kind. Gentle. So when you get a little over-zealous, attempting to sacrifice your comfort for his pleasure, he pulls your head back slightly. “That’s far enough, angel. That’s—fuck. God, you’re good at this.” The words are thoughtless, muttered to himself more than you as he watches through a haze while you look up at him with glassy, half-lidded eyes, slipping him in and out of your warm mouth, a little faster now as you gain confidence. 

You whine desperately around him, like you’re the one nearing orgasm and not him. The sound of your pleasure as you suck his cock makes him dizzy. His hips buck, pressing him a little deeper into your mouth. “Jesus fucking Christ,” he exhales. “Slow down, baby. I’m—” a louder moan from him like you’ve never heard as he thrusts shallowly turns you on profoundly. He’s so much more vocal than you’d have imagined—sonically and verbally. He breathes out a quick, “fuck, fuck, fuck,” pulling your hair slightly, and you’ve never wanted to touch yourself more but you know you can’t focus on both. Instead you work on making him come—you can worry about you later. He says your name, with an authoritative edge to his tone that makes you throb. “Honey, if you don’t stop, I’m gonna come—”

You swirl your tongue around the top of him like candy and he’s done for. Spencer tries to pull out, which only results in cum both in your mouth and on your face. The orgasm is his strongest in recent memory, and he grunts, watching your lips part and a little squeak escape as he comes all over your face—but you keep stroking him all the while. Once he’s 90% sure it’s over, he falls against the back of the couch, breathing heavily and looking down at you through hazy eyes. Oh, he’s going to feel terrible about this in a few seconds—but right now you look fucking perfect. Your eyes are wide, nervous as his essence drips over your face and down your neck—he groans when you swallow cautiously, averting his eyes to the ceiling lest he do another thing he regrets. 

“Baby, I am so sorry,” he mutters, forcibly clearing the haze of orgasm from his mind and sitting up, fixing his pants and looking around before locating the box of tissues on the side table. “I’m so, so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” You look up at him attentively as he wipes himself from your face as gently as he can. 

“Why not?”

“Because I didn’t ask you first. I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

Spencer guides your head around by your chin, wiping your jaw and lips. 

“It’s okay, Spence, I—”

“No, it’s not,” he cuts you off, trying to at least turn his guilt into a learning experience for you. He’s not deluded enough to think someone like you will stay with someone like him forever, because sometimes he does things like that, and he’s reminded that there are certainly people out there more deserving of you. At the very least he can clarify that nobody should ever do what he just did to you. “It’s really not nice to do that to someone.”

“Do you care what I think at all?”

Spencer freezes, finally forcing himself to look you in the eye. Despite the fact that he’s mad at himself, he’s sure it’s coming across as being directed at you. And he knows you’re sensitive, especially about this kind of thing. 

“Of course, I do, baby. I’m sorry. Do you want to come back up here with me and tell me what you’re thinking?” he murmurs, cupping your jaw. Hesitantly you nod. The tissues end up on the table—which he will be thoroughlywiping down later—before you crawl back into his lap from the floor. Spencer helps you settle against him, hoping he hasn’t messed this up irreversibly. He keeps his voice quiet as he rubs your leg. “What were you going to say?”

“I was going to say,” you begin, “that it’s fine, because you’ll remember to ask next time. And because… I kind of liked it. I like when—when you do stuff like that.”

It’s a miracle he can hear you with the way your voice drops into an almost-whisper and you’re hiding against his shirt. 

“Like what?” he murmurs. Although he’s not sure he’ll be able to handle the answer. 

“Like… I don’t know. Like you can do whatever you want to me. Like I’m literally yours.” Each word makes you cringe further, but Spencer has to try hard to maintain a cool facade as he processes this. If he’s going to try and be chivalrous, you’ll have to move away from this topic—this revelation—immediately. Thankfully, you seem eager to move on. “So… how did I do?”

He almost laughs. It seems exceedingly obvious how you did, but as per usual, you require verbal reassurance. 

“That was really good, baby. You did well.”

You blossom. 

“Really?”

“I wouldn’t lie.”

“Was I the best girl out of all of the other girls?” 

I wasn’t in love with any of the other girls. 

Just barely, he manages to stop himself from saying it, pinwheeling his arms on the edge of a very steep verbal cliff. The realization that he’s been in love with you for a while hits him like a truck. But he can’t tell you that right now. He should wait until you’re less vulnerable.

Fuck. 

He really wants to tell you right now. 

“Actually—don’t answer that,” you decide, while all of this happens in his head in less than a few seconds. “I want to go back to pretending I’m the only girl you’ve ever seen in your life.”

“You’re the only one that matters,” he offers, relieved to express at least some portion of the much bigger truth. Then he frowns. “Not that the other women I’ve met don’t lead important lives. I actually know a lot of incredibly influential and intelligent people who are women. I have deep respect for all of them. Am I helping or making it worse?” he rambles. You giggle. He has his answer. “What about you? How do you feel?” he asks after a moment, tenderly, lowly, stroking your hair as you lean against his chest. 

It takes you a moment to deliberate, fiddling with the fabric of his shirt. 

“I feel good. I, um… liked it a lot more than I would have thought.”

“Well, that’s good. Much better than if you had hated every second of it.”

You hum in agreement, and he waits for you to say whatever you’re holding back. It comes sooner than he’d have anticipated. 

“I feel bad about the times before. How did you just… go to sleep after? Were you not, like—insanely turned on? Not that I’m, like, irresistibly sexy, or whatever—you know what I mean.”

Spencer smiles because he knows you can’t see him. 

“I wasn’t doing it to pressure you into feeling obligated to reciprocate, I guess. My line of reasoning was that it would be less intimidating if I didn’t even present it as an option until you wanted to try.”

“Oh.”

Spencer thinks he sees where this is going. 

“Why?” he asks, leaning back and encouraging you to look at him. “Are you insanely turned on?”

“Wh—that’s—I didn’t say that!”

Spencer can feel how warm your cheeks are as he presses his lips to the side of your face. 

“You can tell me if you are,” he murmurs, all smiley as he moves to kiss your lips. “If you want something, you need to ask for it. I’m not a mind reader.”

“Yes you are,” you grumble. “That’s literally what behavioral analysis is.”

Not quite true, but surprisingly, he doesn’t feel the need to explain to you the semantics of what he does for work right now. 

“What got you all excited?”

“You know what,” you mumble, trying to look away again. Spencer doesn’t allow it this time, gently grabbing your jaw. 

“Yes, I do. But I want you to tell me. If you want me to make you feel good, this is how you’re going to convince me that you deserve it.”

You whine wordlessly, looking at him with those big, lust-glazed eyes.

“You wanted me to teach you how to use your words, right? This is it. I’m giving you an opportunity. If you don’t want to, that’s okay. Maybe we can take a nap, like you said earlier.”

“No! I liked—um, I liked all of it. I didn’t know if I would, because I was really nervous. But when I first—you know—and you got all quiet… it was like you couldn’t even talk for a minute. I was kind of proud of that. Because normally nobody can ever get you to stop talking.” Spencer narrows his eyes incredulously, a small smile tugging at his lips. But he doesn’t interrupt—not when it seems you’re finally starting to get more confident in your words. “And I really liked the noises you made. I think that was my favorite part. I liked when you pulled my hair back, and how you spoke to me. And when… when you got me messy and I had to swallow it. I really liked how it felt because I couldn’t think of anything else, just making you feel good. I really wanted to… make you proud, I guess. Is that weird?”

Spencer shakes his head no, a fond smile on his face when your eyes meet his again. 

“No. It’s a pretty normal thing to feel when you’re nervous and wanting to impress someone you care about. And I would have been proud no matter what, for the record. You were being very brave.”

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, watching him expectantly. Spencer should have known you’re too needy to truly absorb anything he says to you right now. Which is actually pretty cute. Everything you do is endearing to him. 

“Stand up.”

You frown. 

“But—”

“Just stand up,” he demands calmly, preferring to think of himself as firm and not bossy. 

You do, looking rather annoyed and confused as you plant yourself in front of him. 

“Why?”

“You are so full of questions.” His hands slip up the side of your legs, under your skirt, and hook in the waistband of your underwear. Spencer looks up at you meaningfully and you nod, swallowing. 

As he pulls down, Spencer can literally feel the resistance of the fabric clinging to your soaked core. Under his touch the skin of your thighs is warm and soft. He wants to feel it on either side of his face, he wants to hear you whine as his stubble rubs against it, he wants to feel it clamp around his wrist, he wants it between his teeth and he definitely wants it pressing against his hips as he—

But no. 

There will be time for all of those things—especially the last one—later. For now, he’ll reach between your legs just to see—

“Oh, my god,” Spencer half-chuckles, half-groans, upon feeling how wet you truly are for him. He drags his knuckles from your dripping entrance up over your clit, pinching very lightly and earning a squeak from you which he ignores. “You really did like having your mouth full of me, huh?”

“I told you,” you breathe, visibly relaxing some as he continues to play with you for a moment. Then he pulls his hand away again, patting his thigh. 

“Sit.”

“You want me to…”

“Yes,” he says, simply. 

“But is it not going to… am I not going to mess up your pants?”

“You are even more neurotic about messiness than I am. I can wash them, honey. Come here.”

Spencer guides your hips over his thigh, watching your pretty face twist with uncertainty as you fully settle on him. Fuck, he can feel your warmth through the fabric instantly. Already he’s getting hard again. 

“What am I supposed to do?” you whisper, bunching his shirt in your fists. Spencer slides your skirt up higher, revealing the way you’re nestled against his thigh. He spreads you a little further apart, exposing more of your clit to the material underneath you. Immediately you press against him—he watches the delicate flesh rubbing gingerly against him and  his grip tightens ever so slightly. 

“All you have to do is rock back and forth. It’s easy.”

Already you’re starting to do it—but he guesses it’s like earlier where you don’t even realize it’s happening. 

“But… I wanted your mouth,” you admit, quietly, slinging your arms around his neck and burying your face there. 

“Do this for me first. Just get yourself off like this one time and then you can have my mouth. You said you wanted to help me feel better because I’m tired today, right?

“Yes,” you mumble, squirming over him. 

“Well, there are a lot of days when I get back home and I’m tired. I’m gonna need you to be able to get on top of me, just like this, and make me feel better. And I know you don’t know what it feels like to have something that deep inside of you yet, but it’s gonna be a lot. Even once you know how it feels to have me inside when you’re underneath me. I need you to practice for me right now so you’ll be ready, okay?”

You could come from the words alone. You nod, dazed with need as you roll your hips in a circle, pressing his thigh against your clit. 

“Back and forth, baby,” he murmurs, guiding your hips forward with his hands locked around them. “Back and forth, just like this…”

You moan quietly, shamelessly, eyes fluttering as you look down and watch your clit dragging over the darkening fabric. It’s easier if you isolate your hips, grinding down without moving your legs or upper body at all. 

“It feels really good,” you whisper under your quickening breath. 

“Yeah? Does it?”

“Mhm.”

“Good, angel. You look like you know what you’re doing.”

It’s audible now, quiet and wet and dirty. 

“I don’t,” you breathe. He sucks in a breath of his own, stilling your hips with fingers pressed deep into your flesh. 

“Sit up, baby.” You really wish he would stop making you stop, but you don’t want to keep going in case he needs you to quit—so you rise slowly, thighs trembling as you kneel. Spencer groans at the strings of your arousal momentarily connecting your core to his pants before they snap, getting your inner thighs wet. There’s a dark, very wet patch over his thigh, shining like glass. He thumbs over your slick clit absentmindedly as he looks up at you like you’re a miracle. “You’re fucking soaked. I’ve never seen you like this. Is this all from making me come?”

You nod feverishly, hips grinding against nothing in search of friction. He sits you back down on his leg, allowing you to sloppily find your rhythm again. Spencer bounces his leg lightly and you cry out softly, buckling forward. His arms wrap around you, still pressing you down against his thigh as you rut against it. 

“You’re sweet. Maybe I should have known how much you’d like it when I came all over your pretty face. You really like hearing that you did a good job, huh? I bet you like it even more when I prove it to you.”

You moan a “yeah,” barely processing his words. 

“My good girl even swallowed on her first try. Took it so well. And now look at how you’re taking this. You’re gonna love riding, baby. Just going to be another thing you’re good at as soon as you try it.”

“Spencer,” you gasp, overwhelmed by the praise. He’s bouncing his leg at regular intervals and everything is so sensitive.

“I know it’s harder to finish this way, but just one time, remember? And then you can have my tongue for as long as you want. You are my only plan for the day. Just give me one like this.”

But it’s not really harder to finish this way. Then again, you’re so turned on you could probably finish if a breeze hit you just right. Regardless, the thought of him going down on you again pushes you even closer to the edge.

You don’t know how much time goes by like that, you rubbing against him like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do, him pressing up into you until the pressure is so taut it snaps. There’s no time to warn him, but you suppose you don’t really need to. You writhe against him, caught between wanting to keep going and not being able to take more stimulation. He lifts you up just slightly, trying to separate you from his leg. You exhale deeply as your body relaxes, already close to dozing off against his chest.

“We can’t have you tapping out just yet. I still have to fulfill my end of the deal.”

In the end, he fulfills it three times over, and you end up showing your appreciation in kind one more time—much slower and more comfortably in his bed. He gives you plenty of time to learn what he likes, taking your teasing and coquettish explorations like a champ and never so much as tightening his grip in your hair. Turns out, you don't exactly spend the day doing nothing.

And you do end up taking that nap after all. Just... much, much later. And with less clothing on.

-

part 3.5

[notsoattractivearenti]

Frustration (Christian Pulisic x Fem!Reader) 🔞

(gif by me)

WC: 1.4K

Warnings: SMUT, dom(m), nipple play, clit stimulation, penetration. MINORS DNI

A/N: i wrote this as fast as i could (cuz i didn't wanna make any major changes if i couldn't finish it before the ucl game!) so idk if this is decent or not lol. if i miss anything on the warnings pls lmk! hope you guys enjoy and i’d love to hear your thoughts thru ask/reply/reblog 💗 this was not proofread so apologies for any errors! feedbacks are highly appreciated 🤍

—

The first match of the season between AC Milan and Juventus didn’t go well for the home team, especially for Christian. One of Milan’s defenders got a red card in the first half and the team had to finish the match with 10 men left. Then, shortly before halftime, Christian got subbed off for another defender – it was the first change for the team. He was visibly upset because he still wanted to play and it felt way too soon to bring him to the bench. Not only that, Milan also lost by 0-1 so the day couldn’t have gone any worse for Christian.

I saw what happened and I could already tell that he would be in a very bad mood until the day ended. I wanted to give him a hug right away and let him know I’m here for him but of course I couldn’t, so I had to impatiently wait until the match was over to do so. On our way to the car, he didn’t say a word – he didn’t have to, his facial expression said it all. I tried to console him but he didn’t respond, so I waited until we got into the car to continue talking to him.

When we got into the car, he slammed the door so hard it startled me for a second. Holy shit, he really is fucking frustrated, I thought to myself. He was looking all grumpy and still didn’t say anything as he started to drive.

—

Finally leaving San Siro, he took a deep breath before he started to talk.

“Sorry, Y/N, I’m just not happy with the way things were.” He admitted.

“Yeah, I know,” I rubbed his shoulder, ”I’m sorry you had to go through this shit.”

He slightly smiled.

“Mmhm. Ugh, I should’ve had more time on the field…” He sighed.

Even though I had assumed that the reason behind the decision was to maintain the defensive structure of the team, it didn’t feel fair to take Christian off that early. 

“I’m with you, baby. But what’s done is done. Pioli might have thought it was the best decision, but in the end one goal was still conceded. Let’s just focus on the PSG game and give your best as always, okay?” I tried to encourage him.

“Okay… But sorry Y/N I can’t help but think the game could’ve gone better…” He grunted.

“Hey,” I kissed his hand, then continued consoling him, “don’t beat yourself up. That was not your fault! Tonight’s not your night. Nor Milan’s. Trust me, you guys will do better on the next one.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right…” He hesitantly agreed.

“Thank you, my dearest. I’m so glad you’re here.” This time, he was being genuine.

—

Now at home, Christian didn’t waste a second to find the couch and laid on it. He drowned his face onto the pillow and screamed his heart out. I love that man so much but he is so used to bottling his emotions – which kind of bothers me, if I’m being honest – and seeing him screaming like that, I just knew he truly felt hurt and couldn’t contain it anymore. So I thought of a way to release his emotions – what I had in mind could actually be fun and beneficial for us both.

“You know, if you want to fuck your frustration away, I’m down.”

He immediately sat up, then turned his head right away and looked at me all confused.

“Say what now?”

“Yeah, I mean… I’m kind of in the mood, so… If you want.” I teased him.

He still wasn’t convinced.

“Are you messing with me?” He pouted.

“I’m serious, Chris, I’m not playing.” I smirked. “Do what you want to me.”

Without a word, Christian roughly picked me up and started kissing me. He threw my body on the couch and positioned himself on top of me. He took off all of his clothes right away, and when I was about to do the same thing, he stopped me.

“Don’t. I’ll take them off myself.” He demanded.

I nodded in response.

“Did I not hear a ‘yes, Christian’?”

“Yes, Christian.” I repeated his words.

“Mmm, good girl.”

I bit my lip and moaned when he called me a good girl. Those two little words never failed to drive me crazy. As he said that, I could feel my pussy starting to get wet.

I was wearing his jersey at the moment. He wanted me to keep wearing it, so he took off everything I had on my body except the shirt.

“Fucking hell,” he gulped, “you look insanely sexy wearing my shirt.”

His hands began tracing my body starting from my chest. He rubbed and squeezed my breasts tightly then moved his fingers over my nipples, gently twisting and pinching them. It felt so good I closed my eyes and quivered.

“Do you like it when I play with your titties, baby?”

“Yes…” I whimpered.

“Tell me how good it is.”

“So fucking good…”

Before I knew it, I felt one of my nipples was already inside his mouth – he swirled his tongue around then sucked it. I gasped at such a pleasant sensation.

“Oh!”

When he heard my gasp, he gave a little bite and it successfully got me moaning so loud. My hand was grasping the cushion while the other was holding on to Christian’s arm – and when he bit my nipple, I squeezed his arm so hard it turned slightly red.

After he finished sucking one nipple, his mouth moved onto the other and did everything all over again. By then, my naked pussy was already dripping wet.

His hands continued wandering around my body, feeling every inch of the curves. When he found his way to my pussy, he started rubbing my clit with two fingers.

“Oh, so slippery already?”

“Mmhm…” I bit back a moan. “Please don’t stop…”

He rubbed my clit faster and my thighs started to clench.

“Ohh… Mmm… Yeahh… Faster!” I sputtered.

“Are you gonna cum, baby?” He asked.

“Y-y-e-esss…” I hissed.

He kept rubbing.

“Then cum for me now.” He demanded.

“I- Ahh…”

My entire body was trembling – my eyes rolled back and I stopped breathing for a moment.

“Holy fuck…” I moaned.

“Ah, that’s my good girl. But we’re not done,” He said as he put on a condom.

I took a glance at his hard cock and all I could think of was having it within my pussy.

“Get inside me now, please…” I begged him.

He then roughly pushed his cock into my wet pussy.

“I’m gonna fuck you harder than I’ve ever been tonight.”

He really meant what he said – he started pounding me really hard, deeper and so rough than he usually did.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so wet.” He moaned.

The sound of our skins slapping against each other was so loud even the other noises we made couldn't cover it. His hands were strongly gripping my thighs while he was thrusting his cock deeper and faster by the second.

“I- oh you feel so good… Ohh sh-shit…” His breath hitched.

“Faster!” 

He immediately went full speed to the point where it felt like he was about to destroy my pussy. I could clearly feel his pulse inside me. Suddenly, my brain stopped working and I couldn’t say anything but moaned loudly.

“Hhh… Good fu-uck…” he panted.

His face was moving closer to mine and my lips immediately met his. I broke our kiss by biting his bottom lip then we heavily breathed each other’s air. When his neck was across my face, I started sucking it and left a mark. He moaned even harder when I sucked his Adam’s apple – it kind of tickled when it moved.

“Fuck… I’m close…” He whimpered. “Cum with me princess…”

And in an instant, the earth stopped spinning. The waves of pleasure just left my body, and at the same time I could feel his entire body quivering – his cock was still inside me.

Christian rested his face over my shoulder and heavily breathed into my ear. I kissed his ear and whispered, “feeling better now?”

He nodded, couldn’t say a word as he was still trying to catch his breath.

When he was finally able to speak he said to you, “Y/N, you sure know how to turn a bad day into a better one.”

—

taglist: @pulisicsgirl @neverinadream @swimmingismywholelife @chilwellspulisic @bracedes @lovelynikol16 @thoseboysinblue @lizzypotter14 @masonsrem @landoslover

[m1ckeyb3rry]

Ok merging responses again but tiktok is fr diabolical for that…on that note i went to go check my settings too and mine were already off (I think past me had good foresight jk I think I actually just turned it off out of habit without reading in depth) I wonder if u get the notifications when the person u send it to doesn’t have theirs toggled off? On that topic I was fr just wondering if it goes both ways in the sense of like if it would prevent tiktok from suggesting your account to me since I have mine off as opposed to just not exposing my acc but anyways!! Was just gonna say hopefully you didn’t find out from getting a notif from some very random person or something shsgshsh seems like you’re safe tho!!! On that note if you ever see anything funky happening in your TikTok notifs lmk….ill look out in case it ever starts suggesting yours but now that the switch is on I’d assume nothing would happen (at least it better not tiktok pls)

LMAOOOO dw I have faith in our man he would never actually homewreck the premise is just so hilarious to me but PAUSEE stop I love miraverse tabiori and now we have aiko (?????) what do you even call them their names are too short i also don’t wanna make this look like they’re getting shipped LMFAOOO

HAHAHA classic reo activities…just grabbing out old reliable (checkbook) I almost forgot that readers parent wanted her to marry him maybe it’s fr time to reread

LMAOO yup you’re alter ego is safe o7 but yeah I guess you’ll know our convo is getting stalked/read if you ever get a notif for any of the ones from our convo LOL although again I’m assuming the toggle button actually does its job so that shouldn’t be the case anymore

PLEASE DONATE SHINAH EDITS HERE!!! I will gladly take them omg that hakyona edit is probably the first yotd tiktok I’ve ever seen

So real honestly sometimes we all need a day to just do nothing LOL I’m sure whatever’s next will be fire as per usual

BAROU CLEANING SERVICE pause imagine they actually make that Barou maid cafe and unironically put all the muscliest/aggressive characters in to follow their gimmick (like when Barou squeezes ketchup on their heads) imagine this is all another side gig competition so whoever rakes in the most money gets like a day off or like bonus field time and then they all start doing even more insane shit to get more money and views but I’m crying Rin posting a drama video like “the dark truth about itoshi sae” and then the first thing he says is “he’s a shitty brother”

At first I thought they just left zantetsu auraless and I was like damn ok…chigiri pop off with the leopard/cheetah ig then I reread it and looked and finally saw the fuckass train just thinking about it makes me crack up

OH YEAH the foreshadowing about chigiri has me sweating like ummm hahahaha wdym???????? Wdym break??? Stfu??? Yeah dw I also dgaf abt himizu give the spotlight to your teammates please!!!

- Karasu anon

ooh yeah maybe it has to be a mutual thing?? but that’s actually kind of a relief because it means i would’ve gotten a notification every time someone viewed the videos i sent…at least we can hope so 😭 but yesss the switch is on now so i think we are in the clear!!

NO BECAUSE I HAVE IT SO CLEAR IN MY HEAD like at one point reader and karasu are going to be watching a movie together and she’s like on the couch w him and she’s sleepy so he’s letting her use him as a pillow and she’s like “i wish my boyfriend was like you” and karasu’s like “right then enough is enough” and drives over to aiku’s ASAP LMAOAAOAO i’m crying truly every single oaeu story is HILARIOUS (except sae’s bruh i’m still trying to cook w that one) like i also have this clear vision of aiku being like “yo reo you’re so lucky to be marrying y/n” and reo’s like “oh i don’t rlly love her or anything but ya she’s cool ig” and aiku’s like “oh fr??? 👀 she’s hot asf can i get her number…since you’re cheating on her she should be allowed to do the same #women’srightsandwrongs” so obviously reo is like “erm and who am i cheating on her with??” and aiku is just like “nagi 👍” HAHAHA omg i just need to figure out how to add that oaeu flair to the sae version and then it’s full steam ahead because literally every other version is cooked and ready but the miraverse followers chose sae to be posted first and since i lowkey might push requests even further back to work on oaeu i should at least oblige them w that 😭

reo fr is like money never fails 🥱 except it does and reader only becomes friends with him at a party he hosts when she realizes he’s sitting alone in his room because nobody like him for who he actually is…she’s like oh damn wait maybe you’re not that bad…i GUESS we can be friends 😒🙄 and the rest is history and she becomes the most hated girl in the school since everyone assumes her and reo are a fr thing even though they aren’t

HAHA irl mira remains an enigma for now 🙂‍↕️🤫 hopefully the button does its thing and tik tok ceases to try and expose me JFJDKDJS anyways i’ll spam shinah edits below and we’ll see if anything crazy happens 😶‍🌫️

edit 1 edit 2 edit 3 edit 4 edit 5 edit 6 edit 7 edit 8 edit 9 random inumaki edit i happened to see while scrolling through my favorited posts

okay most of those are shinah a couple are hakyona and one is obviously an inumaki one that you’ve probably already seen considering how many views it has but it was too good not to include!! also fair warning most of the shinah edits use the same three scenes there’s truly not enough content of him out there 😭

LMAOOO POST WC KUNIGAMI + BAROU + RAICHI JUST WORKING AS MAIDS AT THE CAFE meanwhile nagi and isagi are like the managers of the place omg it would be a train wreck but sooo funny 😩 and lmao LITERALLY rin makes hiori filming him doing an exposé abt sae and sae is just brutally cancelled and hounded on twitter before everyone stops caring 😭 or alternatively on-field isagi will rub off on rin and rin will say smth digital-footprint-damaging and everyone’s like…hold on itoshi?? like sae itoshi?? and sae just gets cancelled by proxy 😰

THE TRAIN IS ACTUALLY SO FUNNY especially given his teammates…like we’ve got barou’s lion aura…chigiri’s panther aura…nagi’s GOD OF DEATH aura…and zantetsu is. uh. he’s a train. HAHAHAH anyways i’m not too stressed abt chigiri in the present match since we know he continues forward in bllk after it but i’m worried it’s foreshadowing smth happening to him soon in the main series 😓 i’m wondering if he’s going to go out in a blaze of glory during a world cup match where he scores the winning goal but loses his leg in the process 😢 pls i’ll cry but realistically it’s going to happen because no way they would throw that in there and NOT use the plot point but also chigiri has been so so successful in the series that it’s definitely setting him up to hit a massive peak and then lose it all immediately

[reidslibrarybook]

Give Up

Couple - Spencer x pregnant!reader

Requested - can i request a little blurb where like reider (you know who this is bc of that lol) asks spencer if there’s someone else bc he’s still sleeping in the living room and she knows it isn’t true but her insecurities get the best of her? maybe like a part two to the fic you just wrote? i thought of that and i was like i need my heart strings pulled

Warnings - language, sexual innuendos and lots of them , insecurity, not proofread (lmk if i missed some)

Summary - Spencer’s been leaving bed abruptly since the start of your pregnancy, what was more interesting than staying home with you and your daughter?

Category - fluff and hurt/comfort i think?

Word Count - 4k

A/N - this one is kinda cute ngl but reader is hella dramatic lmao.

ident and italics = flashback

masterlist

join my taglist here!

—————————————-

Marriage was a two-way street, an agreement of compromise and a vow to never let go of the other. Your pregnancy was not easy in any way, filled with horrible discomfort and an annoying possibility of mood swings every time something ticked you off.

The two of you had to give up lots of things to make your little family work, especially since you were carrying your second child. You and Spencer agreed to make more time for each other and your kids— the both of you stepping down from the dangerous or time-consuming aspects of your jobs.

You always wondered if he secretly resented you for prompting him to give up his work as a field agent at the BAU. He was still there, working with Penelope at the office instead of flying from state to state every week, but you couldn’t help but question if a part of his heart blamed you for withholding him from doing something he loved.

He constantly reassured you but you were never certain despite the happy smile that was plastered on his face whenever he was around you or your daughter, Aurora. You thought the name was fitting since he always called her his ‘little princess’ but you preferred a shorter one, so the two of you settled on Aurora and Rory for short.

Spencer loved her and he loved you, at least you thought so.

Every day, in the early morning before dawn, he’d leave the bed and come back an hour or two later. It wasn’t uncommon for him to get up every once in a while because his brain wouldn’t stop churning, but, much to your chagrin, the act had become a daily occurrence.

You never knew where he was going and you didn’t want to ask either. Ignorance was always your downfall and it was clear that the flaw wouldn’t be changing anytime soon.

“Mommy,” your eyes fluttered open to see Rory standing at the edge of the bed near your face, “Wake up, Mommy.”

You nodded groggily, “I’m awake. What’s wrong?”

“Can I sleep with you please?”

You smiled and nodded, sitting up just enough to pick her up from the floor and roll her over to the center of the bed… a bed that was missing Spencer.

“Where’s Daddy?”

You pulled her close to your chest, being careful of the little bump on your stomach that continued to grow.

“I don’t know, love.”

“Daddy left earlier, I saw him leave.”

You furrowed your brows as your heart rate began to pick up from its resting state. “You saw him leave?”

She nodded her head rapidly, her tiny hands continuing to paw at your back. “Mhm, he told me not to tell you.”

The figure in your arms began to wiggle out of your grasp until she was flush with your face.

“Please don’t tell Daddy I told you, I don’t want him to get mad at me.” She squeezed your cheeks with her baby hands, rocking your head from side to side to emphasize her point.

“I promise, Rory. Now, you have to get to sleep. You have school tomorrow,” you whispered into her hair as she returned to her position with her face in your neck.

She slowly moved her head up and down until soft snores fell from her lips. You were still wide awake, your mind wandering to the different possibilities. He could be anywhere and you had absolutely no idea where ‘anywhere’ was.

—————————--

Your eyelids opened as soon as you heard the creaking of your bedroom door, a tall lean figure walking in and sliding into bed wordlessly beside you. Your body had a visceral reaction to his return, immediately gravitating towards him and reaching your hands over to grab him closer for warmth.

He looked over at you, completely surprised that you had woken up so quickly after his return. Spencer tried his best to open his eyes so they’d adjust to the dimly lit room, illuminated by the soft glow of both the moon and the sun.

“Y/N, you’re awake?”

You nodded, squishing Rory in between the two of your bodies as you nuzzled your head into his chest. Your nose scrunched up as your senses were bombarded with a familiar scent that you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

“Where were you,” you whispered. You could feel his heart rate pick up as his breathing pattern became more and more irregular.

“I was hungry so I went out for a snack.”

“You left the house for a snack at 4 am?”

He sucked in a breath. “Yup.”

“So what did you get?”

He used his hand to rub your back, most likely trying to distract you from the make-shift interrogation going on while the two of you laid in bed. “A cinnamon roll.”

You lifted your head. “A cinnamon roll?”

He nodded.

“Why didn’t you get me one?”

Your pregnancy brought around weird cravings for things that you never craved before— bagels and carrots and… cinnamon rolls.

He laughed, “You were sleeping.”

A wide smile crossed your face as you sat up, your baby bump hitting your legs as you crossed them. “I would have woken up for cinnamon rolls.”

“So you’d wake up for cinnamon rolls but not for me when I get home at night?”

You rolled your eyes jokingly, “Well if you brought home cinnamon rolls, it’d be a different story.”

“I’ll keep that in mind next time I’d like a hug from my pregnant wife.”

“You’d think with your genius brain you’d understand that everything comes with a price.”

“Even if it’s just a hug?”

“I am carrying your child.”

He didn’t reply, a sly smile on his face as he nodded and looked away from you.

You take a throw pillow lying on the side of your bed, smacking him with it. “Spencer Walter Reid, what are you insinuating?”

“The fact that it takes a whole cinnamon roll for you to get out of bed to hug me makes me question… things,” he teased, a smug grin wiped across the bottom half of his face.

“If you keep talking like that then you leave me no choice but to withhold kisses and cuddles.”

His back straightened as he shot upwards, “What?” Your little girl stirred in your arms after his yelp.

His lips turned into a pout as he made grabby hands in your direction, pulling you into his chest and mumbling that he’d never let you go.

“I’ll bring you cinnamon rolls every day, I promise. Just for you, my love.”

A warm sensation spread through your chest, your heart pumping the tender feeling throughout your body.

“You better.”

“I will, as long as you don’t withhold kisses or cuddles or… other things.”

You giggled, kissing his cheek and pushing him back into bed.

It was moments like those that made your doubts and insecurities wash away with the tide of the ocean.

But further receding of the water only left promises of an even larger wave.

—————————————-

After Spencer left that morning with Rory in the backseat of his car, your brain began to ruminate on the possibility of Spencer’s possible infidelity.

You questioned his loyalty but you didn’t want to.

He was too suspicious with his constant sneaking out that had become a habit of his ever since the start of your pregnancy.

Spencer always calmed your insecurities that took over your thoughts, even before he knocked you up a second time. It had gotten worse as your stomach began to grow to accommodate the child inside you. He was always there to assure you that he loved you for you and nothing else.

But how could you believe him when he disappeared for two hours every day before the crack of dawn without a word?

You walked into the bullpen during Spencer’s lunch break, a break you knew he’d be gone for since he had specified that he was going out with Morgan.

All you wanted to do was ask Penelope if something was wrong at work or if he had shown signs of indignation for you or his resignation from being a field agent. You held a warm croissant in your hand, your feet making contact with the carpet of the bullpen.

Every step you took caused your mind and heart to race in parallelity, the palm of your hands beginning to sweat. You knocked on the door and entered the room as she made a muffled affirmative noise.

“Baby Momma Reid! Welcome to my batcave. Have a seat, my esteemed guest.”

You laughed, “Thank you. This is for you.”

She took the paper bag and looked inside before her eyes lit up. Penelope reached her hand in and savored the bite of the buttery pastry.

“So, what do I owe the honor of both your presence and a croissant?”

“I was wondering if we could talk… about Spencer.”

Her eyes flicked up to yours immediately. “What about him?”

“He’s been acting weird. You know, leaving bed at odd hours of the night and lying about his whereabouts occasionally.”

A contemplative look rested on her face, she wiped up the crumbs on her face and leaned back into her chair.

“Look, Y/N. Spencer loves you, he really does. I doubt he’s doing anything-”

You stopped her, closing your eyes to avoid what might be a fracture in your marriage. “I know that he’d never do anything. I just,” you sighed, “I just want to know if I did something to make him upset or leave or something. I don’t know.”

She gave you a pitiful look. “Well, he does keep a safe in a drawer under his desk.”

“A safe? Do you know what’s in it?”

“No. He’s pretty secretive about it.”

“Okay, thank you.” You offered her a smile and pushed open the door before she got a chance to say anything else.

There was a nagging feeling inside of you, hoping that he wasn’t hiding anything that needed to be hidden. It wouldn’t be hard to open it since the two of you had a universal agreement that ran throughout the start of your relationship. Every single code was a specific variation of the first day you met.

You punched it into the little safe you found in a drawer just like Penelope had said, finding that it wouldn’t open even after you entered the pattern of numbers three times over.

Why wasn’t it working?

You continued trying until your fingers refused to be still enough to enter the code on the silicone buttons. It may have been a menial detail to others but it was an important one to you.

There was a whole argument about it in the late stages of your relationship about remembering codes and passwords. He made a big deal about sticking to one so that your brain could remember.

He came up with a series of numbers that only the two of you could remember— the date of the day you first met combined with the address of the coffee shop you bumped into him in.

It was such a trivial little thing to be upset over.

But he hated change… and so did you.

—————————————-

Somehow, you managed to get into a fender bender right as you left the parking lot— not realizing that there was someone in front of you despite having your eyes glued to the road.

You made your way over to the hospital just to be sure that you, but mostly your baby, were alright. Somewhere in the mix-up, Spencer had been looped into the situation— sending you frantic messages about your health and how you were doing.

He hastily made his way over to the hospital room, completely dazed with a crazed look in his eye. He was bouncing around, asking nurses and other service providers for every single minute detail about your health and the state of your child.

It was adorable to watch him run into the room as a sea of questions were thrown into your ear. He would not stop asking you about how you were feeling or if something felt off.

He held your hand, refusing to let go. Spencer probably even looked more like a patient than you did, his face pale as he worried for you and your baby.

“Spencer, I’m fine.”

“What if something’s wrong, what if something is wrong with the baby?”

“If something were wrong I think I’d feel it. Either way, they’re running tests so we’ll find out soon enough,” you reassured. He gave you a kiss on the forehead, rubbing a hand over your stomach as if he was holding your baby’s hand too.

You shouldn’t have been so distracted by such a minor dilemma. It was so insignificant but your mind refused to let it go no matter how irrational it was.

A knock on the door drew the two of you out of your head, lost in your thoughts.

“Mr. and Mrs. Reid,” she greeted, “Good news is that you and the little one are alright. Bad news is that your baby’s heart rate is a little higher than I’d like.”

You looked between the doctor and Spencer. “Wh- what does that mean?”

“It’s nothing to worry about. Lots of things can cause an increase in heart rate including stress, which is the most likely factor. Try resting and keeping your own heart rate down, that’s your best bet of keeping this situation under control.”

You nodded, pressing your lips into a firm line as you awaited the onslaught of questions that would most definitely be coming from Spencer. You could let him know about your fears or completely disregard your questions— but that had already proven to affect you and your child negatively.

It was so hard for you to confront him about it. It was an illogical speculation without any evidence or factual support and you knew it. But a little part of your brain wouldn’t stop bugging you about it.

Your relationship with Spencer was established on a mutual understanding that the two of you could always share your feelings with the other no matter what.

But you didn’t know what was stopping you.

—————————————-

He shut the door behind you, sighing and grabbing a cup of water from the cupboard for you.

Spencer sat down beside you on the table and handed you the glass of water, looking you directly in the eye. “Do you mind telling me what’s going on?”

You diverted your gaze from his, afraid that you’d crack under pressure. “Nothing, Spencer. I’m just tired.”

“Tired of what? I- is it me, did I do something?”

You shook your head. “No, of course not.”

“Then what is it,” he grabbed your hands and took them in his, rubbing his thumbs over them tenderly, “J- just tell me and I can fix it. Anything for you.”

Your eyes started to water. “It’s really not a big deal, I- I’m probably just blowing everything out of proportions, Spence.”

“All your feelings are valid, just tell me what’s going on. What’s bothering you?”

You sucked in a breath, trying to prepare yourself for the worst— the worst being he was screwing someone else. “You’ve um, you’ve been leaving a bed a lot lately and I guess that I’m just worried that I’ve done something wrong.”

He wrinkled his eyes, the connection between your worries and his leaving not put together in his mind. It wasn’t until he looked straight at you with rounded eyes and a slightly opened mouth did he link the two.

“Y- you think I’m… cheating on you?”

“I- I don’t know, Spencer. All I know is that you’ve been spending less and less time with me in the morning and telling Rory not to let me know that you’re leaving.” He laughed as your forehead creased while you raised your eyebrows.

“Y/N,” he grinned, “I would never do something like that to you, ever. I love you and I love Rory and I love our little pumpkin. I would never give any of you up for anything.”

You bit your lip. “Then why are you leaving?”

“I um,” his eyes shifted from left to right, “I may have been going on coffee runs early in the morning so you wouldn’t find out.”

Your mouth fell open in complete shock. “You’ve been sneaking out in the morning so you wouldn’t lose our bet?”

You reached for the coffee machine with one hand as you tried your best to pour cereal for Rory with the other.

As you were about to push the button, Spencer smacked your hand away and unplugged the machine from the outlet.

“Spencer! I’m about to leave so I need my coffee now.”

He shook his head. “You know the drill. No coffee.”

“I can have a cup a day,” you pouted, sliding over the bowl of cereal over to Rory who was mindlessly coloring on the dining table.

“Nope. Not on my watch.”

You scoffed, “It’s easy for you to say, you can have coffee any time you want. I have to go 9 months without it.”

“You’re making it out to be harder than it really is,” he teased.

You walked up to him, pressing your body against him. “If you’re so confident that it’s easy, then why don’t you do it with me, hm?”

“You want me to stop drinking coffee with you?”

“Mhm. Is there a problem with that, Doctor?”

He shook his head, partially distracted by the direct eye line his eyes could follow down your shirt. “Nope.”

You stood on the tip of your toes, leaning your head upward to whisper in his ear. “What if you stopped doing other things with me? Would you be able to handle it then?”

“I don’t doubt it. The question is if you can handle it since it seems that you can never seem to keep your hands off of me.”

You shook your head, “I don’t know where you got that from.” You pushed him off of you and walked to plug in the coffee machine. Spencer managed to pull you back with your hands and corner you up against the edge of the countertop.

“I think the fact that I’ve managed to put a child in you twice is enough to show how much you want me.”

You leaned up and nipped his ear, “Last I checked, the process of making a child is a collaborative effort.”

“So you weren’t the one eager to get a call from me while I was on that one case?” he lifted your chin with his knuckle, “Do you want me to remind you of the way you begged for me to tell you what to do? How you pleaded for me to come home so you could derive satisfaction from me in person?”

Your mouth fell open slightly as you felt Spencer’s breath on your neck. The contact he was making with your tender skin sent shivers down your spine, and apparently transported the two of you to another world— completely forgetting that your 4-year-old daughter was in the same room.

You felt a slight tugging at your shirt. “Mommy, can you stop rubbing up against Daddy and fix my cereal. You forgot my bananas.”

You cleared your throat, trying to disperse the overwhelming feeling building up inside you. “Mhm, I can do that right now for you, hun.”

You could hear Spencer laughing behind you, feeling his eyes track you around the kitchen. You placed the bowl onto the table and tried your best to ignore the grinning bastard in the corner.

You tried your best to open the jar of jam from the fridge, grunting like a maniac to twist the lid open.

“You need some help with that?”

You didn’t even attempt to look over at him. “Nope, I got it.”

“Just like you got satisfying yourself without me while I was away on a case?”

You turned back to him, smiling and shoving the jar into his hands so he could open it. “You really need to stop, Spence. I’m still upset with you for not letting me drink coffee.”

“We can make a bet? Whoever breaks first has to change diapers for the first three months every single time.”

You folded your arms. “Are you sure you can handle it?”

“If I can handle you when you’re all needy, then I can handle anything,” he laughed.

“I can’t believe you were trying to hide it from me. It makes me wonder what lengths you’re willing to go to get out of diaper changing,” you giggled.

He grabbed you and pulled you into his arms, carrying you bridal style into your bedroom. “I am a man of my word, scout’s honor.”

“‘Man of my word’ my ass, you slipped out of bed and left to drink coffee before I was even awake. Not to mention having Rory cover your tracks for you.”

He placed you down, gently— rolling over to the other side to cuddle you. “In my defense, I was only drinking coffee because I needed it to stay awake when you had me up all night rubbing your back and ankles.”

“You’re the one with the breeding kink, if you didn’t want to do any of that then you could have reigned in your carnal desires,” you joked.

He wiggled his head into yours, rubbing your stomach with his hands. “But where’s the fun in that?”

“Well, you have to deal with the consequences now. The consequences being foot rubs, back massages, and a crap ton of cinnamon rolls.”

He brought the back of your hand up to his lips, placing a delicate kiss on it. “Anything to gain your favor again, love.”

You leaned your head to the side so you’d have a better look at his face, making eye contact with his hazel eyes. “Wait, what’s in that safe in the bottom drawer of your desk?”

“The safe? H- how did you know about that?”

You pursed your lips and looked away, a glimmer of deviousness in your eye. “I may have asked Penelope for some insider information and snooped around a little.”

He laughed, “It’s some imported coffee beans that I use to make my special cup of coffee since the stuff they have in the breakroom is crap.”

Your eyes widened. “How long have you been drinking coffee in complete secrecy?”

“For a while now, I only lasted three days before I caved,” he confessed.

You slapped his arm jokingly. “You dick.”

He used a finger to poke your cheek that was puffed out through your lighthearted frustration. “You know, If you’re not too angry… I can make it up to you by doing something involving my dick.”

“I don’t think so, you have to pick up our daughter. So, stuff your horny little guy back in your pants and be on your merry little way.”

He pouted. “Little guy? It is by no means little, at least not according to the lewd noises you were making when I was using the ‘little guy’.”

You pushed him off of you, giggles falling from your lips. “Go, before we start the process of making our third baby right now.”

He sat up, flattening down his shirt while looking back at you with his signature ‘well actually’ face. “You know, we can’t really make a third baby, at least not while you’re currently-”

“Spencer,” you got up and physically pushed him out the door, “Go!”

He smiled and kissed you before shutting the door and walking out to the car. Just as he was about to open the car door, he yelled toward the open window that you were looking through.

“YOU KNOW I’M MADLY IN LOVE WITH YOU AND I CANNOT WAIT TO GET STARTED ON OUR THIRD ONE! I’M SURE IT WON’T TAKE LONG BUT WE CAN PROBABLY START PRACTICING ONCE I GET BACK HOME-”

You yell right back at him through the screen. “SPENCER, GO!”

“YOU’RE RIGHT, THE FASTER I GET BACK THE SOONER WE CAN GET START-”

You could feel your face heating up, walking away from the window and hoping that he’d stop relentlessly trying to embarrass you. You could hear him laughing and driving away in the next few moments as your heart fluttered with joy.

There was no reason to worry, there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t give up for you.

—————————————-

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[bushdivingbushranger]

What was going to an all girls school like, if you don't mind me asking? :)

OK anon im so sorry this is so long and so convuluted I actually got so carried away jdbKJBGKSDBGH. i'm not even sure i properly answered your question i just got overwhelmed with Love for my same-sex schooling DHGKJSDFBHG anyway, if there's anything more you want to know lmk and I will try to be concise next time 💀

Essentially, my own experience at a single-sex secondary school was fantastic—however, I know my experience isn’t universal, especially since my school was a little bit different to most, I think.

That being said, I still think that sending your daughters to female-only secondary schools is something every parent should strive to do if they can. No other learning environment will ever be as good for girls as a same-sex school.

In terms of school staff, mine was about 95% female, and 5% male. The few male teachers we had were genuinely competent men and decent teachers, they were also watched like hawks. Our principal was female, all leadership positions in the school (such as House Leaders, Year Level Co-Ordinators, Department Heads, even the chaplain) were held by women. Our school psychologists, our nurses, our library technicians, our café ladies, our career advisors, our tutors—all were women. Our school houses (think like Harry Potter houses) were named after important women in our country’s history.

I went to a co-ed primary school. And whilst at twelve you might not have the words to describe it, graduating from a co-ed space, into an all-female space is really a giant weight off of your shoulders. You don’t realise how suffocating co-education is until you’re no longer having to bear it. It feels so much more natural, so much more free! You are welcomed as you are. You can be loud and unashamed of it. We joked frequently with each other and our teachers, laughed loudly and cared not whether our laughs were ‘ugly’. I found that teachers were far more supportive than they were in my co-ed school. For example, in a co-ed school I had been told frequently to ‘pipe down’ or to ‘reel it in’ from teachers, and more vexingly to ‘shut up’ from boys due to my boisterous personality. In high school? My teachers encouraged me to audition for the play because I had ‘great projection’. In every school programme (more on those later) that I was involved in, I was the one asked to give speeches about them at assembly. I was asked to be the lead of our house chants during our sports festivals. I was asked to join the debate team because of my passionate nature, which in primary school, had me known as ‘difficult’.

Likewise, I had a friend who was by nature quiet, and loved to draw. In primary school she’d doodled on the back of a work booklet, and when her teacher returned it, she’d taken off two points and had written a comment saying something about teachers in high school not accepting work that was drawn on.

Do you know what happened when she got to high school? Our English teacher had seen the eye she’d drawn on the back of our Romeo and Juliet test and had written, ‘beautiful!’ above it. The next test, she drew a two-headed cat with witches’ hats on both heads (I remember the left head was called Turpentine and the right head was called Esmeralda). Our teacher wrote, ‘wonderful!’ above it, with a smiley face.

The next day she got an email from our art teacher that had a PDF flyer of information on both in-school and local art competitions.

Anyway, she had questions and that teacher answered every single one of them. She also personally helped her select the works she wanted to submit. She ended up having two pieces shown in the school gallery, along forty pieces made by other girls. About five years later for our final year, on that art teacher’s recommendation (and tutelage!) she took all of the visual art subjects on offer. When she graduated, her final piece was shown at a public exhibition in our state’s capital city, that honoured the best pieces done by select graduating students in the state.

So yeah. Our teachers were pretty amazing. Of course, there was the odd teacher or two you would butt heads with but that’s just a universal school experience. Our humanities classes, like history, for example, often had a unit that would focus on the female experience of a certain time period. For example, when learning about WW2, we did projects on female resistance fighters et cetera.

We had health classes that were actually focused on female health. We learnt about female anatomy (even the clitoris! Though we were all about thirteen/fourteen at this time so we found it incredibly awkward to talk about), as well as symptoms of PCOS during our menstrual unit. We learnt about contraceptive methods and devices (however, as a Catholic school they did have to tell us that whilst these methods are available, the church-sanctioned method is of course, abstinence).

Whilst the majority of the girls shaved their legs and wore makeup, as someone who did neither of those things I rarely felt judgement about it (albeit, I think there was a little for my lack of makeup, but this only lasted the first two years). A good portion of our staff also did not wear makeup, I don’t recall this ever being commented on. And, by the time we’d reached about our third year, a good portion of my year level and the ones above did not wear makeup on a daily basis. Leg hair was not looked down upon by any of us I don’t think by this year either. In fact, if you were particularly hairy often your hairless friends asked to rub your legs!

We were never short of female role-models, our staff made sure of that. We had multiple days per year when guest speakers would come and talk to us, mostly these were women who were experts in their fields—whether that be neuroscience or computer science, linguistics and literature or mathematics, politics, et cetera. The only times we really had male guest speakers was when police officers (one male one female) came to give us an assembly about sexual peer-pressure and laws around sharing nudes that was basically, “these are common (male) manipulation tactics used to pressure you into doing something you don’t want to do, don’t fall for them”.

We were encouraged to take STEM subjects, and those of us that had taken interest in computer programming were sent to coding programmes in the city during school hours! That’s how keen our teachers were to get more women into the field! This was the same with the girls interested in politics, who got to go to Model UN events, as well as mock parliaments in the country’s capitol.

We had a lot of programmes generally. A few overseas ones for girls who were in LOTE (languages other than English) classes. A few interstate ones, too. And of course, local programmes and excursions. Most of them (aside from the LOTE ones which focused on immersion) were volunteer programmes aimed at helping women and girls. The rest were about furthering our own skills or learning new ones. Majority of these were year-level based, but a few depended on the clubs/groups/classes you were in. For example, I was part of the Writer’s Club, and we took an excursion to the state Writer’s Festival and listened to female writers as well as feminist panels. We also had self-defence programmes every year.

In terms of peers I generally found everyone to be quite amiable by the time we’d reached our third/fourth year. There’s a common myth about all girls schools being filled with ‘catty’ girls who are constantly bitching about one another, but I really did not find that to ring true. There were a few fights and arguments in the earlier years, I was part of quite a lot lol but that’s honestly… just something that happens at school, at any school. Largely, we were good to each other. If someone was crying there was always someone who’d ask her what was wrong. If you missed the notes on the slide, there was always a girl willing to share her notes with you.

I think going to an all-girl’s school, and not having that much interaction with the opposite sex generally for that six-year period truly does something, I think, to your psyche. We are socialised to look down on our fellow woman, socialised to look down upon ourselves. But actually being constantly surrounded by women, and almost ONLY women, really helps to undo that. Even now I could not describe the fierce love I have for all those women and girls I came in contact with during my time there—even the ones I bickered with. Each and every single woman I met there enriched my life in some way or another. I think that is the effect of consistently spending time in any female-only space: developing a true appreciation for women. It is the only reasonable conclusion to come to.

I have been out of high school for two years, and in university for one. Among the many men I have met since, none of them have even been able to hold a candle to the any women and girls I know.

Anyway. TLDR: it slapped, send your daughters to same-sex schools!!

[stylistiquements]

Introduction : three older brothers

𐐪𐑂 Pairing : Sapnap x fem!reader {Playlist} 𐐪𐑂 Summary : When Sapnap learns the news, some questions are resurfacing.

𐐪𐑂 Word count : 1.1k

𐐪𐑂 Warning : none (for once lol)

Masterlist | Next

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・　　 .・゜゜・　　・゜゜・

I’m coming to see you in Florida, your voice plays again and again like it’s some kind of song stuck in the back of Sapnap’s mind.

In the lull of the afternoon, a nest of merriment peaks in the crest of his chest and threatens to overflow, but honestly it’s more a promise than anything; bare feet stomping euphorically against the wooden floor without a hint of withhold and the humid air twirls around his fists as he punches a not so silent victory.

Fifteen years of friendship, two years of longing and four months until the world both crumbles and harmonizes again.

129 days until my best friend comes home, Sapnap processes ecstatic, acidic. Peonies hatch in the depth of his heart, where light shouldn’t reach but still does somehow.

The heel of his palm presses against the phone a little tighter, where your voice ringed high and low just minutes ago. He forgot to ask how long you were planning on staying with him and Dream. Somehow, he forgot how to think about anything else but the fact that, soon, late night texts and virtual calls are to be bad dream-ish flashes. But it’s so easy to put everything behind, so easy to dismiss when you’re about to appear in front of him, soft as a smile and real.

When the celebration falls breathless, Sapnap isn’t sure what to do with himself, throwing his body over the bed that bounces up and down and the movement is so swift he’s left tasting all fuzzy. He’s transported overseas, heart streaming over the sheets. They wrinkle and frame his body like a restless picture.

This could just be a dream, he reasons; he waited so long for you to say those words that, for all he knows, he might have been asleep all along. The threads of lights that escape the window fondle his hair and wash up two soft cheeks and, in an attempt to seal the wish, he closes his eyes and lets the sun flood the back of his eyelids.

What is printed there, between orange light and imaginary shapes, is an old memory that slowly unfolds; a brushed wound on your knee during one of those skateboarding afternoons.

Sapnap huffs. God, you used to love skateboarding so much it drove him crazy.

But it was, after all, his duty to carry you home. Like a princess, you said, eyes sparkling and smile so promising. He whined, complained the whole time about you being heavy, but it didn’t matter; what colored his skin was how important you gave him the opportunity to be. And the truth, although diluted, remains indelible to the passing time.

It’s funny, he recognizes, that the memory decided to collide with this very moment. Just as if a boiling impatience molded itself into a wave of memories. And when the nostalgia fades away, he imagines what it would be like if you were right in front of him; the shape of your eyes and the curve of your smile. Something old, something new, something blue, he thinks ironically, though it probably only makes sense to him.

“What the hell, Godzilla?” The door cracks open and welcomes a swirling breeze. Dream fakes the annoyance, but his tone betrays; boyish amusement. His silhouette intertwines with rays of lights and though his shadow elongates enough to hide Sapnap from the merciless sun of Florida, one glance at the man forces him to squint in order to not be completely blinded. Sapnap tunes into reality once again, heels sinking into the mattress.

“129 days,” he mumbles, willing to answer a question that hasn’t been freed yet, knowing it’s not too much of an answer yet everything he’s capable of for the moment given, still stuck into the ethereal.

“Cryptic,” Dream sighs. His scoff stops when he lies on the bed next to his friend, a small rattle falling out of his lips.

In the interlude, met by two green eyes and the chirping of the birds outside, he gives in, “I haven’t seen y/n in two years and now she’s coming back in 129 days.”

Dream’s head rises effortlessly, unimpressed, little birdie tells Sapnap he probably knew much before he did.

“Then why are you not as happy as you should be?”

“I’m not sure,” Sapnap shrugs. “I mean-- I am, but it’s weird. It’s like super long and super short at the same time.”

Dream’s hovering smile twitches slightly devious, slightly smirk-ish. “Maybe you’ll finally be able to tell her how you feel.”

Betrayal, he noticed the way his lashes flutter when your name is mentioned in a conversation, the way he secretly flusters every once in a while when the boundaries between what is and what could be are drawn too blurry. Sapnap’s eyebrows arch in a hypocritical confusion.

He gulps with a little bit of coyness, “It’s just not the right timing.”

“Things don’t always need to be complicated, you know.”

His jaw clenches in a sour agreement, but to be so desperately in love with his best friend, there is only room for difficulty.

It’s like magnets with the same polarity. Sometimes, too caught up by the pursuit of your own selves, sometimes kept apart by the fear of losing the most precious thing life has given the two of you. And if one second he thinks he could catch a glimpse of hope, too tangled with the force field to think, the next he never even dares to think about it.

“I’ve heard how you interact with each other, being all flirtie flirtie and stuff,” Dream notes high and daringly. The smirk blooms, Sapnap flinches.

“Right, as if. She also has three older brothers, you know? Kinda don’t want my ass to get beaten.”

“You’re being a giant baby.”

“You’re a giant baby,” Sapnap repeats to mock. “Shut up.”

And soon the air is filled with hands aiming to attack each other, weltering between a mound of sheets and choked out laughter. The introspection blows in the wind for a second before reappearing as easy.

Once Dream’s power has made its own point, Sapnap surrenders, “Fine. Oh my god, you’re so annoying. And if I tell her that I’m in love with her and she rejects me, what then?”

Heaving chests and remains of chuckle, the sun fades out for a moment to give them a rest.

“And if you tell her that you’re in love with her and she says ‘me too’, what then?”

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・　　 .・゜゜・　　・゜゜・

Taglist : @open-minded-chip-101 ; @itsoakaa

A/N : I'm so happy to finally post something again I feel like it's been years lol!! Hope you guys appreciated the intro. it's a bit shorter but once again its just the intro and if you're used to the length of the sorcerer's chapters then this is gonna defo be a lot shorter. Anyway lmk what you think!! I think I'm going to publish one part every sunday but can't really promise anything. Until next time (ɔˆ ³(ˆ⌣ˆc)

[solarwonux]

Crop Tops and Tattoos || Wonwoo

soccer player!Wonwoo x f!reader

w.c: 3.2k

warnings: smut, shower sex, wonwoo soft!dom, oral sex (female receiving), friends with benefits, friends to lovers, public sex (kinda) I think that’s all. 

note: another repost I’m sorry lol. Anyway, I hope you enjoy, honestly I literally have like a bunch of works that literally take place in the same soccer!svt/college!svt universe but really have nothing to do with one another except for like 3 and they’re all spicy lol. Let me know if you’d want them and also enjoy this one and lmk your thoughts hehehe :)

masterlist

“W-What?”

“Come to my practice tonight.” You rubbed the sleep from your afternoon nap out of your eyes, listening to Wonwoo’s soft voice through the receiver. “I miss you, come to my practice tonight, we can hang out after.” Wonwoo all but begged, and you can almost picture the pout that was on his face.

“Woo, I can’t I have to finish my half of the group research project.”

“Perfect, I’ll help you. You’re my partner anyway. Please love, I just want to see you it’s been forever.”

“It’s been two days Woo.” You rolled your eyes sitting up on your couch, retreating your phone from your ear, checking the time, 7:30PM it read. So much for a thirty-minute nap, you sighed.

“Precisely why you should come to my practice…hold on a sec,” Wonwoo pulled the phone away from his ear and gave the lost student instructions to where the art history section of the library was located at. “Please, it will be worth it, I promise.” He whispered, cupping his mouth over the receiver, muffling his words a little making you laugh.

“I’ll think about it, get back to work.”

“Okay see you tonight.” He said a little too excited and hung up the phone, a wide smile appearing on your face, making your stomach perform a whole gymnastics routine in the process.

The relationship you and Wonwoo had was interesting, it had started off as mindlessly flirty with one another, graduated to ghost touches and during a hot summer’s day. Where the air conditioning in the library had leaked and instead of Joshua calling everyone to tell them to stay home, he had made sure everyone showed up. Or else. His exact words.

The touches and flirting had escalated to the point that Wonwoo had dragged you to the forgotten encyclopedia section of the library and pinned you against the dusty bookshelves.

Since then your relationship grew more to just sleeping with one another to let off some steam. He would hold your hand underneath the reception desk at the library, mindlessly drawing patterns and phrases onto your skin. He would walk you to class when he could, sometimes with a bubble tea in his hand, other times empty handed. If you were scheduled to close on days, he had an earlier shift, he would wait and walk you home holding you close while the two of you talked about your day. And as of recently, after sex he had started to spend the night, claiming he slept better with you by his side.

In your head Wonwoo was your boyfriend just without the label. It was also a conversation the two of you needed to have, but it was also one you feared because you didn’t want it to ruin it.

You ran through the gates of the soccer field and started up the steps of the aluminum bleachers, earning weird stares from the guys and girls that decided to attend SVT’s first soccer practice of the season. You sat down, out of breath, holding your bag close to your body as you tried your best to regulating your breathing. A reminder that maybe hitting the gym every once in a while, wasn’t such a bad idea, because clearly having mind blowing sex with Wonwoo wasn’t helping with building your stamina.

“Woo your girl’s here now you can finally start playing.”

“Get your head out of your ass Jun.” Wonwoo scoffed shoving Jun lightly, earning a laugh from the other boy. Wonwoo gazed over at you a knowing smile evident on his face and waved at you. You felt your cheeks heat up and your eyes grew wide as you took in his appearance.

Wonwoo had sworn to you that he would never wear his old jersey again, especially since Seungcheol and Jeonghan had deviously cut it up after their last game last season. Yet, here he was in all his glory. The shirt stopping just above his belly button, the sliver of his toned stomach peeking through and you felt the beat of your heart start to raise. You warily waved back, before placing your cold palm against your forehead trying to cool yourself down.

Wonwoo raised an eyebrow, lifting his hand up and threaded it through his dark locks. His shirt riding up, exposing himself more and you felt the air leave your lungs. It was stupid, you have been seeing him in a lot less clothing for months and in every angle. But for some reason now as he stood boring his soft eyes into yours as Jihoon shouted commands to his teammates. The sweat dripping down the sides of his face, his glasses fogged up slightly due to the humidity and a knowing smirk adorning his face, teasing you. And you felt like you were about to burst.

“Hey, Woo, stop ogling at your girlfriend and get into position.”

“I like your shirt.”

“Hmm, yeah?” A devilish snicker fell from his lips as he pushed up against the cool tile wall. You nodded dragging your nails across the sliver of teasing skin, leaving red marks behind in their wake making Wonwoo shudder. “So sexy.” He groaned lowly pressing his lips onto yours forcefully, his hands snaking around your waist down to your ass giving it a squeeze making you gasp. He pulled away from your lips and trailed them down your neck. He swiped his tongue over your sweet spot earning him a whimper from you.

“You gonna let me fuck you in the locker room showers?”

“If you ask nicely.” You breathed out playing with the elastic waist band of his shorts. Wonwoo laughed against your neck and bit down before pulling away. “Can I fuck you in the locker room showers please?” He pouted playfully, grabbing your thigh and wrapping it around his waist.

“God Woo, yes.” You wrapped your arms around his waist pulling him closer to you feeling his growing cock against your aroused pussy. “As you wish darling.” He mumbled pecking your lips repeatedly before pulling away from your body, making you whine at the loss of his body heat.

Wonwoo chuckled sinking down to his knees, your eyes hooded with pleasure, feeling the wetness between your legs grow. He left teasing kisses down your clothed thighs, his thumbs hooking underneath the waist band of your leggings dragging them along with him. “Woo my shoes.”

“I was getting there, you’re so impatient sometimes.” He mumbled sitting back on his knees tapping your calf silently telling you to raise your leg. “It’s your fault…how am I supposed to be patient when you always look so good.” You obliged watching as he slowly took of your shoe and throwing it outside of the shower stall along with your sock. He repeated the process with your other leg before attaching his lips against your clothed thigh and left gentle open-mouthed kisses up your leg.

“I guess it’s time I teach you how to be patient.” He smirked pulling down your leggings along with your panties in one go. He threw them aside, placing a kiss against your hip bone, where the small stick and poke infinity sign tattoo he had made after a long night of immoral rendezvous. “Still can’t believe you let me talk you into giving you this.” He mumbled giving it another kiss and stood up.

“I wanted a tattoo but didn’t want to experience the pain.”

“It still hurt you, I had to stop, that’s why it’s all crooked and unfinished.”

“But it’s my favorite.” You whispered, his dark lust filled eyes boring into yours as he slowly started to take off his shorts and underwear, exposing himself to you. No matter how many times the two of you slept together, the sight of his body always had your heart beating out of time. He was perfect, an Adonis carved out of marble and to your surprise he was all yours.

“Don’t take off your shirt.” You whispered reaching and grabbing a fistful of the cloth and pulling him to you. “I want you to fuck me with it on.” You eyed him, a teasing finger running down his chest. “You’re so naughty today.” He laughed grabbing your hand and moved it up to his lips kissing each of your knuckles his sensual gaze lingering on yours. You felt your breathing pick up, the heat trailing down your thighs. “Please touch me.” You whimpered pulling your hand away and taking your shirt of throwing it behind him.

“Not yet I need to shower, I’m all sweaty from practice.” He winked, his hand finding the shower handle and turning it. A gasp left your lips as you felt the cold start to coat your heated bodies. “Now behave princess.” He kissed you hard, running his tongue over your bottom lip asking for entrance in which you granted. His hips flirting with yours and all you wanted to do was get down on your knees and beg him to use you in any and every single way possible. He pulled away detaching the shower head sending you a wink before putting it against your clit. The harsh water jets sending a sweet wave of pleasure up your spine.

“You’re going to cum like this and then I’ll fuck you.” He mumbled, before sinking down on to his knees again. He kept the shower head in place and alternated in kissing your thighs. Desperate whimpers falling out of your mouth. Wonwoo hooked one of your legs on top of his shoulder and bit down on your thigh, sucking making you yelp. “Your body reacts so well to me.” He kissed up your thigh sucking another love bite next to your tattoo before pulling away, shifting the shower head slightly. The sensation sending a new wave of pleasure up your body making you moan.

“W-Wonwoo, mmm, please.”

“Please what?” He teased the sound of a smirk evident in his voice and you’ve never wanted to hit someone so badly before. “I-I need you please.” You cried out, the tip of his index finger teasing the entrance of your pussy. “Yeah…you need me baby?” He chuckled moving your arousal around coating his finger with it before pulling away and bringing it up to his mouth, moaning sinfully as he licked it clean

“Y-Yes need your fingers, or mouth anything p-please W-Woo.” You raised your hips trying to grind yourself against the water, searching for a release in every way you could. “I’ll give you what you want but you can’t touch me.” He tsked giving you a pointed look. You whined nodding your head grabbing onto the smoothness of the shower wall. He ran his hot tongue against the lips of your pussy, the sensation mixing with the coldness of the water sent shivers up your spine.

“You always taste so sweet.” He mumbled against you flicking the tip of his tongue against your clit. Your mouth hanging open as your fingers itched to touch him and push him against you even further. “L-Let me touch you?” You breathed out your nails digging themselves into the skin of your stomach. He nodded against you repeatedly licking strides up your lips before attaching his mouth on your clit. By now the shower head was long forgotten as it fell from his hand, hitting the shower wall with a loud clank making you jump.

You threaded your fingers in his short hair tugging at the roots making him moan against you. He wrapped his arms around your ass pulling you closer as he lost himself eating you out like a starved man. “B-Baby I’m close.” You moaned arching your back against the wall as he lightly bit down on your clit and pulled away. He licked his lips savoring you and adjusted his round glasses earning a lighthearted laugh from you. “Don’t laugh or I won’t help you cum.” He grumbled pressing his index and middle fingers against your entrance and slowly sinking them into you immediately curling them up in search for your g-spot. A satisfied smile etching across his face as you moaned out the second he found it.

Wonwoo attached his lips onto your clit again, this time wasting no time and sucking on it roughly, his fingers moving inside you at a fast pace. The coil forming at the pit of your stomach, your hands tugging on his hair, your hips bucking against his mouth and fingers. He moaned feeling your clench around his fingers, giving him the motivation to pick of his pace, the pleasure getting too much for your body to handle and before you knew you came undone screaming out his name. He helped you ride out your orgasm, desperately licking up your release making your body twitch from the oversensitivity.

“You did so well baby.” He mumbled before pulling away, licking his lips moaning in approval as the remnants of your arousal hit his taste buds. He thrusted his fingers a few more times before pulling them out making you whine, missing the way they felt inside of you. He chuckled licking them clean before standing up.

“Think you can give me one more?” He asked giving your lips multiple pecks and then your cheeks. You laughed pushing his face away resting your tired body against the wall of the shower.

“Yes.”

“Can I ask you something?” You crossed your arms in front of you holding up the towel Wonwoo had wrapped around your body. Wonwoo hummed handing you his extra t-shirt as well as the sweatpants you had left at his place weeks ago. How he knew to bring them along with him was beyond you, but you decided to save that question for another day.

“Why do the guys call me your girl.” You emphasized standing up from the bench and started getting dressed. Wonwoo closed his locker resting his back against it drinking you in slowly, making you feel a little insecure. “Jeonghan saw you leave my apartment one day and texted the group chat to share the tea.” He rolled his eyes using quotations around the last word of his sentence before pushing himself away from the locker. “Now the guys think we’re dating.”

“But you never corrected them?” You tugged his shirt over your head gathering your semi dry clothes and folded them. “Do you want me to correct them?” He placed his hand on your cheek moving your head gently to meet his eyes.

“I-I mean yeah, we aren’t dating you made it very clear that you weren’t looking for a relationship when this started.”

“I wish I could eat my words.” He whispered running his thumb over your swollen lips. “I think I’m past just wanting to fuck you; I want more.”

You felt the air leave your lungs; your cheeks heated up and you desperately searched for a new point of focus because the intensity evident in his gaze was overwhelming. “We should go, I need to finish my half of the project.” You picked up your drying clothes and your bag and rounded the corner of the bench you had been sitting at.

“You don’t want to be more?” Wonwoo caught up with you grabbing your free hand to stop you from walking and held it close to his chest. “I do, I’m just scared you’ll end up regretting it if we ever do try to be more.” You confessed trailing your eyes down his body and stopping at your interlocked hands.

“I won’t, you make me feel so good an—”

“Exactly, I make you feel good. All you’ve ever known is how it feels like to be with me naked. You don’t know what it’s like to actually be with me.” You pulled your hand away. A frustrated sigh spiraling out of his lungs as he ran a hand through his hair.

“Your worst habit is jumping to conclusions.” He mumbled lowly tugging at the roots of his hair. It didn’t feel nearly as good as it felt when you would do it to him, but that was something he would ever confess out loud. “I want to be with you in every way possible, I know what I said before and if I would take back my words I would because that was before I found myself falling for you.” Wonwoo closed the gap between the two of you holding you tightly. His confession had your mind running nonstop, the weight of his words making their way into your heart and finding a home. You hugged him tightly, burying your face into his chest. “Is that a yes?” Wonwoo asked confusion laced in his voice as he hugged you back running his hands down your back soothingly. You hummed nodding your head taking a whiff of his lavender body wash and somehow it felt like home.

“You can’t just say things like that so casually.” You groaned raising your head from his chest placing a kiss on his chin. “Give me a warning next time.”

“Would you have preferred reading the essay I wrote about it instead.”

“Wonwoo stop fucking around you didn’t do that.” You scoffed pushing away from him and started down the hallway to entrance of the locker room. “Yes, I did it’s fifteen pages long, I even used citations.” He yelled following you a few steps behind, the teasing tone in his voice made you doubt his word. But he did once write a whole essay on how Soonyoung was the worst co-captain in the history of co-captains because he had beat him in Mario Kart.

“You have two options I can read it for you tonight after you’re done with your half of the project or I can read it for you on your wedding day.” You choked on your saliva making him laugh. He patted your back gently before pushing open the door to the locker room.

“What the fuck Woo, our weddi—”

“Finally, we’ve been waiting out here for hours. I’m starving.” Hoshi exclaimed throwing his hands up in the air before starting down hallway. “I told you guys to leave.” Wonwoo sighed rolling his eyes and extended his hand for you to take.

“Half of us did once they heard you guys fucking.” Vernon shrugged shoving his hands in his pockets. Your cheeks started to heat up, you prayed to every god out there to do you a solid and open the ground up and have it swallow you whole. “And you guys didn’t?”

“Nah, you’re paying for dinner remember, plus we made a bet while we waited.” Vernon took two long strides over and placed his hand on top of Wonwoo’s shoulder. “I never expected you to have a daddy kink and now I lost fifty bucks to Jeonghan and Dino each, that’s a hundred in total.” He shook his head and walked away running to catch up with Hoshi.

“I don’t have a dad—”

“You know bathrooms have echoes right?” Dino pushed himself way from the wall and started walking away. “We heard the two of you loud and clear, so you can’t deny it, Jeonghan even took a voice note just in case you wanted to deny it.”

“Baby you’re going to have to visit me in jail cause I’m about to commit homicide.” Wonwoo placed a chaste kiss against your head and let go of your hand and charged over to Dino. He turned around laughing before running down the hallway leaving you behind with a smirking Jeonghan.

“Honestly, I just hope you guys disinfected the stall the two of you used.”

[applestones]

okay OC backstory rant kind of #1 !!

I’m currently working on rewriting the sso story with Nat, Solveig, and Anouk (but atm I’m only focusing on Nat, the other two will probably only become relevant to the main plot later on) and I started a few months ago, not having established her character yet. The first thing I wrote, then titled to be the first chapter as I plan to write it as a book because I love writing books lol, turned out to be more fitting as a prologue. Now, what I wanted to talk about is Nat’s backstory.

Nat grew up in Sunnyvale, gonna rb this with a picture of the map of Jorvik I’m basing my canon on, where the book also starts with her having fallen off her horse Ramses during some sort of cross-country competition. I haven’t really worked out what type of competition it was but as Nat is a big fan of cross country & has a history of competing in that field (because it's my favorite discipline), I figured it made the most sense.

I’m prone to struggle with writing good intros to my books, which is why I just kind of went with an “In Medias Res” beginning as it seemed the easiest. Nat’s fallen off Ramses and is now left in a part of the woods she always feared to go into and she’s severely injured. Also, Ramses just disappeared into the woods, never to be seen again. The prologue isn’t too long, hence why I didn’t want to make it into a chapter.

  After that accident, Nat is understandably severely traumatized at the loss of her beloved companion and isn’t able to ride again - physically and mentally, as she has severe injuries that would hinder her to continue riding.

The “main” story begins when Justin Moorland is struggling to find a horse Nat isn’t afraid of riding a few years after the accident.

Now, I’m not really planning on publishing the story as I just see it as like something I’m doing for my younger self, who always loved writing stories based on Jorvik and who had gone through a very similar situation. I’m still scared as shit to ever ride a horse like I was able to a few years back again, I’ve never really been on a horse without having any trace of fear, but over the last two years it’s just gotten worse.

Nat is basically a mirror of myself in many ways, not only just the falling off a horse and getting injured part, which is probably why I’m so passionate about her. And probably because I just really fucking love Jorvik and everything about it lmao.

Okay sorry if I’ve talked too much about myself, please lmk if you’d like to hear more about Nat or any other of my OCs, I love talking about them as you can probably tell :D.

Tysm for reading <3

[bakubitch-minusultra]

Not Alone: Chapter Six

-> an apocalyptic series with bnha characters but without quirks because im the writer and i can do whatever the fuck i want B) this chapter is short but theres a seggs joke in it and a new character is finally mentioned so

-> Word Count: 1.4k

-> Warnings: seggs joke lol i think thats it

-> Taglist: @5sosfckss @laudthingcat [if you wanna be added lmk <3]

The farmhouse sat quiet, just like Y/n hoped it would. She’s never come back to it so quickly. It had the longest, most off the beaten track, driveway of the four and it was the closest to her cabin.

They peeled off their soaking wet clothes. Her wound burned from the cold river water and the exertion of wading through the river for such a long ways. She’s done it before, but it wasn’t her favorite way to get to the house. But she’s been followed before, and she didn’t want to be followed again.

She couldn’t help but steal a glance at Kirishima as he pulled his wet shirt off and dropped his jeans on the floor. His wound was bright purple. The brand new scar that’s developing was lumpy.

“It’s bigger than I thought it would be.”

She looked up at Kirishima to see him smiling at her. She pulled her pants off and noticed for the first time that he had drawings of dinner rolls on his boxers. She raised an eyebrow at him.

He laughed, “Buttered buns.”

“I don’t get it.”

“That’s because you were nine when the world went crazy.”

Y/n felt her face blushing, realizing that it obviously meant something filthy, “You were only ten,” She said out of spite.

“Yeah I was but my friend was twelve. So that makes me more like twelve when it happened.” Y/n stopped smiling but he didn't stop talking. “Bakugo was a bad kid. His mom used to get so mad at him. He had a magazine collection that could shock a whore.”

Y/n flinched at the word. She knew what it meant and how it was used but she never heard anyone say it. The conversation suddenly felt wrong.

“One time he was dating this chick and he-”

“Kiri.” Y/n looked back at Mina who was making a distasteful face, “Sex related Bakugo stories in your underwear is creepy dude.” Y/n smiled and watched as Kirishima’s face grew red. He looked at her through his bangs and her heart started to feel like it was too big for her chest.

“Where’s your friend?” Y/n didn’t want to ask but she knew she had to.

Mina answered from behind her, “We hope dead.” Y/n nodded and left it at that. She knew that feeling. Kirishima’s face looked haunted and Y/n could’ve sworn she saw guilt, but she leaves it at that.

Y/n felt weird about being in a house with other people. Not just because it was one of her safe spaces, but also because she was never with people. Her legs ached and she knew she wouldn’t sleep.

She looked at Mina, “You guys sleep first. Me and Hades will take the first watch.”

Kirishima frowned, “Why don’t we all just sleep. There’s no way anyone followed us Y/n.” She wanted to slap him. She knew it was irrational but his survival skills left a lot to be desired. Instead, she turned and walked away.

“Dude we’ll take watch here every night. It just feels safe here, that doesn’t mean it is.”

“Fine. Whatever.”

Y/n pulled the knife that she stole from the dead military guy out of her boot and rubbed it down with bleach she pulled out from under the sink. She hated that she touched something of someone else’s. She caught Kirishima watching her but she ignored him. She ignored her heart fluttering every time he glanced at her. She would leave him. It was her nature.

Instead, she looked at Hades, who had positioned himself in front of the back door, curled into a ball.

“So much for helping me.” Hades opened one yellow eye and closed it again.

She took her new knife, bow and quiver, and her bottle of water to the door. She rubbed Hades’s head once and then headed out into the night quietly.

She opened the barn door and slipped inside. The darkness of the barn was frightening, but she gripped the handle of the blade for strength. She climbed the stairs and felt like something would grab her feet at any second and drag her down into the hay.

She climbed into the hayloft and sat on the open window. The dark night was silent. She didn’t like the silence. She liked the sound of animals telling her she was safe. She opened her ears and closed her mind against the sounds that haunted her.

Then she heard them.

The night creatures that would warn her of any intruders fill her ears. There was a cricket, a single cricket out in the field. She heard a bat off in the woods south of the farm. The noise made her smile. The signs of life filled her with a mistaken and misguided hope. She knew the reality of it all. She knew they were lost, all of humanity was. She knew what the world has done to each other. They were no longer human. Their humanity was lost. The animals had bested them in behavior in survival

The door to the house slipped open. Mina crossed the driveway carefully. A smile crossed Y/n’s lips. She knew that Mina was a survivor.

“His leg’s infected.” Mina’s words cut her. Y/n knew what she had to do but she wasn’t prepared to do it. Mina saw her face in the moonlight, “I know. I feel the same way.”

“The medicines are all expired.”

“We have to go for him. His fever is back. The red lines have started. My dad warned me about the red lines.” Y/n’s eyes left the deserted yard and fixed themselves on Mina. They glistened in the moonlight.

“I’ll go alone.”

“I can’t ask that of you.”

“He can’t travel.”

“But I can’t ask that of you. He’s my burden.”

Y/n laughed softly into the cool night air, “He really is isn’t he? How is he so clueless?”

Mina’s lips curled into a grim smile that the darkness couldn’t hide from Y/n, “He practically worshipped Bakugo. They joked and laughed while my dad tried to teach us how to survive. My dad always called them grasshoppers who played all summer.” Y/n flinched at the childhood reference. “When all of our parents died Bakugo took care of us, but he wasn’t a survivor. When Bakugo got taken I was eleven. Kirishima’s tried but he’s, well he’s a moron.”

Y/n looked back out into the yard, “He’s amazing Mina. He’s still full of the things we’ve all lost. He smiles and laughs and sings. I heard him humming the other day and I almost shot him and then realized I haven’t hummed since I was nine years old.” Her skin shivered when she thought about spying on Kirishima humming. She couldn’t take her eyes off of him.

“He’s a goof. We’ll travel together Y/n.”

Y/n looked back at her harshly, “He’ll die if we make him travel. Those red lines are blood poisoning and once the reach his heart he’s dead. I’ll go and you’ll stay and keep him safe.”

Y/n was risking her life for him. She felt like she was back at the cabin door and Mina was knocking. Y/n knew she would regret this decision.

“I’ll leave tonight. You’ll have to keep Hades with you. He can help you.”

Mina’s voice was small, “I can’t ask this of you.”

Y/n smiled bitterly,”Guess you’ll have to trust me.”

Y/n stared out into the night, it was peaceful and quiet. It scared her more than anything suddenly and Y/n felt her jaw tense.

“If I’m not back in three days you’ll have to cut the leg off and clot it. Don’t give him liquor before you cut it off, it thins the blood and he’ll bleed out. Clotting is done with a hot iron. You press it against the stump where the leg bleeds to seal the veins.” Y/n doesn’t look at Mina. She couldn’t. “The red lines means he has a week at the most. He’ll need tons of soup and water and rest. He can fight it somewhat with those things.” Y/n stood up, her legs ached at the thought of leaving. The barn felt less scary with Mina it and Y/n realized her whole life had started to feel that way

---

[monaownsmyass]

Going Out Of My Mind In My Mind

Requested fic by anon. (If you have any fic ideas or requests you'd like me to write, you can leave me an ask!)

Book: My First Two Loves

Pairing: Ava Lawrence x MC (Emma Price)

Genre: Fluff but make it angsty

Rating: PG13

Warning: Mild homophobic comments

Word Count: 3,611

A/N: Ava is in love with her best friend. She gets lost in her own thoughts while contemplating if she should reach out to MC. Firstly, I wanna say I’m so sorry to the anon that requested this if they wanted a more light-hearted fluff fic lmfao. If you did, please send me another ask lol. Secondly, I wanna apologise to my fellow wlw for including a little homophobia. It’s not that harsh or mean, but it’s there. I thought including it would better portray a realistic encounter of what it’s like to be a wlw accepting her sexuality and exploring her feelings.

Tag list: @ineedskyecrandall @kamilahsayeet2063 @avalawrencefl @lovekamilahsayeed @thequeenkamilahsayeed @heygmicheelle @djtjsmith14 @jjlover01 @soft-for-drake @dopeyouth @alexroyard @satrinadia @toalltheboysididntlove @mypegasifly @queen-arabella-of-cordonia (lmk if anyone would like to be included or removed in my next fics and if you only want to be tagged for certain pairings.)

The first time I realised I was in love with my best friend was... well, I'm not sure if I'm being honest.

But damn, if that's not the most generic, cliché plot ever for every sapphic film and story ever, I'm not sure what is. However, there was always some truth to fiction and I was no exception.

That was my life. Generic and cliché. Popular high school captain of the cheerleaders who lived in the suburbs and came from a middle-class family that has dated the school's famous golden-boy quarterback.

For far too long, everything was normal. Too normal. Painfully normal.

That is, of course, until I started realising I had feelings for my best friend that was very much into guys. As I've mentioned, I couldn't pint-point an exact date or incident but like a hurricane, it was sudden even though there were warnings signs and it was just as destructive, uprooting and destroying everything I thought I once knew, a force to be reckoned with.

It was utter chaos in a seeming perfect picture but for the first time in my life, I felt alive.

Emma Price was my hurricane. Whether that was a good or bad thing, that was up for debate. All I knew was that I wanted her in my life and didn't care if it wasn't the best idea or if it would hurt me. I just wanted her to be with me.

I think that's the funniest thing about finally having a genuine, heart-wrenching, crush on someone. Even the smartest people get dumb, the most cautious are reckless and the logical becomes irrational. Everything that made sense doesn't anymore because why the hell are you doing things you normally wouldn't do for someone that doesn't even like you back?

I learnt that first-hand and I wished someone would've warned me before that. Not like I would've believed it but at least it would be playing at the back of my mind. An echo in the distance, a nagging voice.

I did the stupidest stuff once I was certain I was in love with Emma. I knew I was in love with her but I was in denial and did things I regretted. Dating other people, trying to make her jealous, downplaying my feelings when I saw her with Mason or Noah. Pushing her away and avoiding her instead of talking to her...

It's different, falling for your best friend. Feelings and signals are mixed, emotions are at a high and everything is just one confusing mess of a relationship that was once simple and innocent.

And now, here I was, laying on my bed, staring at my phone as if it would magically tell me the right thing to do if I looked long enough. It didn't, of course. I sighed, wondering if I should shoot Emma a text. It's been some time since we just talked for fun and I missed her sorely.

Procrastinating, I swiped through my home page. My eyes caught sight of a certain app that I opened ever so often whenever I was missing my best friend.

~*~*~

"Come on! Just download it!"

I scrunched my nose up. "Give me one good reason why."

"Because you’re the best friend in the whole world and you'll do anything I say because you love me?" she said jokingly while batting her eyelashes at me but my heart started racing.

I was acutely aware of her hand on my thigh and the way she leaned into me. My breath hitched at her nearness even though we've been closer before.

That was something else about having a crush on your best friend. Suddenly, everything felt like too much. Every word, every touch, every damn single thing was overwhelming and honestly? It was exhausting. Not only is it emotionally tiring, you go into this weird phase of wanting to savour everything they do and you can't help but wonder why you didn't appreciate these small moments before. You can't help but feel as if you've wasted them all.

If she could sense me stiffen, she didn't show it 'cuz she just went on. "Also, it's about a cartoon cat that eats to save the world! What's not to love?"

"That sounds ridiculous, Em," I laughed. "What's the game called?"

"Dopey Cat!"

"Oh god," I groaned. "That makes it sounds much worse."

"Or much better!" She nudged me and I felt a jolt go up my arm. I always wondered if these simple touches felt the same to her. "Do it"

"Alright, alright!" I giggled and surrendered. "Only 'cuz I'm such a great friend."

"Yes! And like I said," Emma leaned in and my heart dropped to my stomach. "The best."

She gave me a slow, soft peck on my cheek and rested her head on my shoulder, clinging onto my arm and leaving me a flustered mess.

~*~*~

I thought about that moment often. More often then I'd like to admit. Every time I did, the same thoughts would always come to mind.

What would've happened if I kiss her? What if I just turned my head right before her lips touched my skin? Would she have kissed me back? Would she push me away? Maybe she'd say she felt the same way about me.

But that didn't happen, so all I could do was wonder.

And wonder I did.

Being in my room like this, doing nothing, it really did make my mind go everywhere. I've dreamed and cried and laughed and screamed and doing nothing was suddenly the most taxing thing I've ever done. Doing nothing when you're in love with someone who doesn't love you back was the most dangerous thing 'cuz they’re already always on your mind but when you're doing nothing, your thoughts just spirals down an endless pit of possibilities that'll never happen and ultimately, you get hurt.

But knowing this, I still let my thoughts spiral anyway. How could I not when the joy and peace I got from imaging a world where her and I were together was worth the pain and heartbreak?

'Cuz figment of my imagination or reality, it didn't matter, she was worth it.

I've imagine us on dates, having picnics, watching movies, going on road trips, sleeping over, laughing over nothing, at the park, at the beach, in a field, in our rooms.

I've thought about us dancing in the living room at 12 a.m., huddled in bundles of blankets on a cold night, singing along to our song while making breakfast, staying up under the night sky and talking about everything and nothing until sunrise, being able to introduce her as my girlfriend and kissing her whenever I felt like.

I've dreamt about us so much as a couple that I've accidentally mistaken reality for fiction but like I've said, there's always some truth to fiction.

~*~*~

"Congrats on being co-captains, guys!" Iris wished us enthusiastically, practically jumping up and down.

"Seriously, you guys totally deserve it," Toni agreed.

"Thank you!" Emma said.

"You two are the best duo! Our cheer squad is gonna rule with you both leading us!"

"Thanks," I said and pulled Emma in for a side hug, feeling goosebumps from the contact. "We do make a pretty great couple."

I immediately froze when I realised what I said and mentally kicked myself. 

God, that was so stupid! Why was I so careless? I should watch what I say!

That wasn't the first time I've done it and I was sure it wasn't the last, but just like how Emma was always the only one to mess up my constant, she was the one difference between all the other times and this time.

She had never heard me refer to ourselves as a couple but while I was beating myself up, Emma handled the situation coolly. She slid her hand in mine and squeezed which did nothing to calm my wrecked nerves.

"We definitely sure would! She the sweetest, more caring person in the world and I'd be so lucky to call her mine." She leaned into me and gave me a nudge but all I could do was stare at her, eyes wide and brows raised.

Her deep brown eyes locked onto mine and I swear I could feel the spark between our gaze. And what was that I saw in her eyes? Longing? A hint? I wasn't sure but I could've sworn there was something else I couldn't quite decipher. Then again, I didn't really trust my thoughts. If it could make me believe we were actually a couple, why would I ever trust it in this situation? How could I?

I'm not sure how long we were staring at each other 'cuz to me, it felt timeless. We only broke apart when we heard someone making a retching sound.

"Gross! Go get a room," Lauren said as she walked towards us. "No one wants to see two lesbos in action."

I felt her hand fall out of mine and suddenly, I felt very vulnerable.

"You don't have to be rude!" Iris defended.

"Yeah, Lauren, no one asked," Toni agreed.

Emma spoke up. "Go away, Lauren. No one wants you here." She said it in an almost tired manner. She was done with putting up with her and it showed.

"Aw, protecting your lesbian lover? Cute," Lauren rolled her eyes and walked away. "Whatever, later, losers!"

"Don't listen to her," Toni said after Lauren left.

But how could I not?

"Hey, Ava?"

I could hear the sweet voice of best friend calling out to me but it was distant.

Everything was. I didn't feel like I was in my body. All my senses were numb and I felt nothing. Nothing except the raging white heat within me. I was having an out of body experience in the worst way possible and for a moment, I didn't feel human.

~*~*~

Then Ava was definitely different from Now Ava. Then Ava wanted to cry and run as far as she could. But she couldn't. She was paralysed with fear and embarrassment. Now Ava would've just laughed and called Lauren pathetic. Maybe even give her a nice slap across the face if she felt like it. But Now Ava wasn't Then Ava, so why dwell on the past?

The thing is, I didn't want to. But like that dull throb at the back of your skull after a concussion, I just couldn't ignore it. You tell everyone you're fine, and for the most part, you are. But that annoying sensation, constantly reminding you aren't, that you just couldn't forget. That was that moment with Lauren.

Her words played in my mind on repeat for the first week after hearing it. Months later that voice was softer and less frequent, but it was still there.

A lot happened in those months. The biggest of all? I finally accepted that I was gay. No, not gay, a lesbian.

That word Lauren had spoken with a jeer, the word she used to insult me, the word that was meant to humiliate me, I was that word.

That wasn't the only time I heard it used that way but it was the first time it was used against me. Lauren's words was a constant reminder in my mind that being a lesbian was an embarrassment, that I was an embarrassment.

Then Ava would feel a chill run up her spine when she heard that word even though it wasn't directed to her. And when it finally was, her soul left her body but of course, that would've been too easy. Her soul leaving her body would've been the easy way out. So instead, she was forced back into reality and had to find a way to deal with it.

Now Ava knew it wasn't a bad thing. Of course she did, she was one, after all. So why did Lauren's words still haunt her?

I still had to remind myself that it was okay. It wasn't gross or immoral or whatever nonsense they put into my mind about girls liking other girls. And every time I did, the madder I got. At everyone that has ever said anything about it and at myself.

Because how dare they tell me how to feel?

And how dare I listen to them when I knew it wasn't true?

I was at peace with it now. I was at peace with being a lesbian. But being at peace wasn't the same as embracing it, owning it. And I'm not sure if I ever will, but I hope I do.

I wasn't out to anyone, and god, I've never felt so suffocated in my life. I couldn't even tell Emma 'cuz I was afraid of how she'd react. Or worse, that she'd assume I have a crush on her. And the worst part, that it was true. That I couldn't even deny it.

Not being able to tell your best friend whom you've always told everything to made me feel like shit. It ate away at me every time I was near her and whenever we were talking. I always wanted to bring it up but I never found out how. Maybe I will soon, but not now.

Emma had always been understanding. Even when she didn't get it, she would try. She wasn't quick to judge nor did she so easily jump to conclusions but I couldn't help but think that maybe, she wouldn't be so understanding. 'Cuz that's what you do when you overthink. You worry about things that you shouldn't and you create false scenarios and you just, can't, stop.

Which was exactly what I was doing right now.

I sighed, catching myself before I could spiral any further and rolled onto my side, staring out of the window with my phone abandoned on the bed.

It started drizzling and it was getting pretty cold. I moved to get under my comforter and wrapped the sheets around me.

And once again, I closed my eyes as my mind began to wander.

If only Emma was by my side...

~*~*~

"Oh my god! Ava! Stop!" she would giggle as I showered her in kisses.

"Nu-uh!" I'd respond and wrap her up in my arms, still kissing her wherever I could reach as we rolled around on my bed, playing.

She'd try to escape but since I'm stronger than her, it's useless. She's trapped in my embrace and eventually, she'd give in and hug me back.

We'd laughed about silly inside jokes as we let our hands linger over each other's bodies, not wanting to let go.

I'd pull her tight and she'd rest her head against my chest as the rain outside got heavier.

I'd shower her in compliments and she'd blush. We'd talk about life, our hopes and dreams and ambitions. Our plans and future together.

"Would you still be with me?" I'd ask her.

"Forever and always, baby," she'd reply and give me a reassuring kiss.

We'd waste away the rest of the day together and I wouldn't have had it any other way.

~*~*~

But that was just fantasy. She's not here and I'm not ready. Not ready to come out to Emma, let alone confront her about my feelings for her.

I took a deep breath before opening my eyes, as if I were physically preparing myself to come back to reality. I glanced at my phone screen that was opened at her chat. I picked my phone up and got ready to type but I hesitated.

Should I do this?

I didn't have much of a choice though, 'cuz my phone rang and lo and behold, my best friend, my crush, the girl I fell in love with, appeared as the caller ID.

My heart sank but my stomach filled with butterflies. This conflicting emotion wasn't a rare occurrence ever since I fell for my best friend but that didn't mean I was used to it. Fear and excitement coexisted where it shouldn't which only left me with a familiar uneasy feeling.

I only stopped for a moment before hitting the 'accept call' button.

"Hi!" I heard that cheery voice of hers ring from the other side of the phone and I could feel my insides warm.

Hey, yourself." I smiled. "What's up, Em?"

"Nothing much, I just feel like we haven't talked that much." She paused for a while before adding shyly, "And I miss you."

The warmth spread to my cheeks. "I really missed you too."

I heard her giggle and god, was it the most adorable sound ever. "Good to know. What have you been up to?"

Figuring out my sexuality and pining over you.

"Nothing much, just the usual." Liar. "What about you?"

"Just been thinking about you," she said casually and my heart fluttered.

I cleared my throat. "Any interesting stories lately?"

I heard another heavenly laugh. "Too many!"

She jumped right into it, not stopping once and honestly, I never wanted her to. Her voice in my ear was a comfort and I held onto it for as long as I could.

We talked and laughed for hours and I didn't even notice until I glanced at the clock on my wall. Time passed too quickly whenever I was with her, I always felt like it wasn't enough. It never was.

But then again, an infinite lifetime with her would still feel too short. 

"And then, Mack ran out of the house with our dad chasing her in only his towel and shower cap with his back scrubber!" she laughed unrestrained, not holding it back and lighting up the entire world with it.

"Oh my god!" I laughed along with her. "How did she even pull that off? I can't believe I missed that!"

"See? This is why you should come over more often!"

I didn't know how to respond but it was fine because she started speaking again.

"Wow, I didn't realise the time! I should probably head to bed."

"Yeah, me too," feeling disappointed that she was gonna hang up soon even though I let out a yawn. "But I guess I'll see you tomorrow?"

"For sure! Good night, Ava."

"Night, Em."

"..."

"..."

"Are you still there?" she asked me.

"Uh, yeah?" I replied. "Put down the phone."

"No, you!" She giggled.

I smiled from hearing it. "You!"

"Ugh, fine! Bye."

"Okay, bye bye."

"..."

"..."

"Hello?"

"Emma," I breath out in a light chuckle. "Go sleep."

"Okay! Okay, for good this time, bye."

"Bye," I laughed and before I could stop myself, I added, "I love you."

And I shot up, frozen in place. It wasn't what I say, it was the way I did. Soft and vulnerable and definitely not just a friend proclaiming her platonic love to her best friend.

I heard Emma suck in a sharp breath as if she caught onto it too, and the line went dead silent.

"Ava-"

I heard her whisper but I pulled my phone away from me as if it was poison eating away at my flesh and hit the 'end call' button, tossing it beside me. I didn't hear her finish her sentence and I wasn't sure if I could handle it if I did.

Shit!

I hit my palm against my face and slid it down, groaning. How was I gonna face her tomorrow?

Just then, I heard my phone go off. The ringtone I had set just for Emma played and I swear I felt my heart stop.

Nervously, I glanced down at my phone to see the notification that popped up.

'I love you too <3'

Warmth spread through my body and I let out an involuntary grin. I fell back onto the bed with my arm covering across my face.

I glanced back at the message and made a high-pitched squeal that I never in a million years thought would come out of my mouth. Leave it to Emma to make me do things I normally wouldn't.

My heart raced in my chest.

She may not have meant it the way I have but it didn't matter because hearing her tell me she loved me was all I needed.

That was another thing about having a crush on your best friend; the I love you's were up for interpretation.

I placed the phone on my chest and let my arms sprawl out on the bed. Whatever sleepiness I had left my body, there was no way I could go to bed now.

So instead, I let my mind roam but this time, willingly. I let my thoughts free fall through a million different possibilities as the night turned to day. 

I watched the sun rise.

And I smiled.

Because falling in love with my best friend was messy and complicated and heart-shattering. But it was also full of excitement and exhilaration and anticipation.

It was rollercoaster of emotions, full of ups and downs and twist and turns and even loops, but that's what made it thrilling. And for the first time in my normal life, I had something to keep me on my toes.

And I wouldn't have changed a thing.

Was my best friend also in love with me? I didn't know. Would I ever know? Maybe, maybe not. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't at least a little curious to know how she feels, be it good or bad. Maybe someday I'll ask her. Maybe I'll get to hold her. Maybe she'll never speak to me again.

But until then, all I had were the stories I've made up in my mind.

(More fics!)

[berrykook]

can’t bear it (y!hs)

set in the overtime universe

in which hoseok is just trying to help you understand that he knows what’s best for you and you feel yourself start to slip

contents: yandere!hoseok, kidnapping, “gaslighting” / manipulation, vomit, gore / mutilation, good/bad little girl rhetoric

word count: 3.7k

a/n: thanks for the request !! i had fun writing it heheh

i’m tagging gaslighting in quotations because i feel like hoseok is like,, KiNdA gaslighting but pretty lightly

also idk why my mc’s always be throwing up LOL it’s just for a second i swear

my inbox is open for yandere requests! i do not write non-con, hitting (punching, slapping, etc.), or ddlg / ageplay (in this fic i included good/bad little girl rhetoric because i thought it would make hoseok seem more spooky but otherwise i do not write ageplay --- use of word daddy is ok)

lmk what u guys think!

*☆*ﾟ ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ 

Your stomach softly growled as you stared down into your takeout box of noodles and studied the way the sauce doesn’t cling to some vegetables. Hoseok ordered your favorite again, but you couldn’t remember ever loving this dish. He must have been referring to the time before he brought you to live with him (an incident in which your head was hit very hard).

Hoseok stared at you like he always did, refusing to eat until he saw you take the first bite. He sat with his hands folded, watching you and your hazy mind work through dinnertime. All you had to do was pick up your chopsticks and eat, but something in you could not bring yourself to do so.

“Baby, what’s wrong? Not hungry?”

Whether it was intentional or not, Hoseok’s tone never came out of the woods. He spoke slowly in low tones as if he was always ready to pounce on you. You wondered if he spoke to his employees the same way.

You gingerly picked up your chopsticks.

“You haven’t been eating well lately. Is something wrong?” Hoseok is wringing his hands now. You began to stare back at him.

You remained silent for a long moment before saying clearly, “Yes. I don’t feel well.”

Hoseok clicks his tongue, rising from his seat across from you to sit next to you instead. He rests his hand on yours. Hoseok wasn’t overly affectionate which you were lucky for at the beginning of this relationship, but you now felt touch-starved and undesirable. He held an immense amount of power over you and he knew it too.

“What’s wrong? Talk to me,” he mumbled, placing a palm against your forehead. “You’re not warm. I seriously doubt you’re sick, you never are. Tell me what’s wrong, please.” He leaned in closer.

You held back a huff of frustration, knowing how angry he got when you weren’t his perfect little girl. Hoseok knew exactly how to get under your skin and scare you shitless. If you weren’t careful and deliberate with every motion, every phrase, every word, he would catch on in a heartbeat and do whatever it took to show you he owned you. It only took three days in his basement for you to confess your love for him and start begging to be let out.

You fidgeted nervously, quickly glancing at the front door behind Hoseok. He hadn’t let you out in nearly six months and as much as you loved him, you were beginning to get antsy.

Hoseok was scary, but treated you well. He thoroughly explained on several occasions how much you needed him and how he loved you so deeply that it was in his very nature to keep you protected from the world like this. He even let you free from being chained in his basement after only a couple weeks, which was awesome! Hoseok never called himself your boyfriend, but you figured he was close enough. He fed you when you weren’t being bad and he recited his love for you often. It terrified you when you first met that time you woke up in his basement, but with time you found yourself believing him more and more. This was not living, but you were becoming so far gone from your past that it seemed like perhaps this sheltered life was what you were meant to receive.

Hoseok studied you deeply, noticing immediately how your eyes darted behind him at the front door. He sighed, mentally preparing himself to pull out all the stops to get the idea out of your pretty little head.

“Mm, baby, are you bored? Did you want to go outside?” He smiled a bit, stroking the back of your head and looking at you sweetly.

Immediately, you furrowed your brows and gripped his hand tighter. You opened your mouth to protest, but he cut you off.

“You must be tired of being cooped up in the house all day...don’t you want to see what’s out there?”

Hoseok stood up, placing a hand on your back to guide you up as well.

“H-Hobi, I don’t need to. I don’t mind staying inside…” you said bashfully, tugging his hand to lead him back into his chair.

His smile was wide like the Cheshire Cat’s. He reached to hold your face by your chin.

“No, I’m sure you must be going crazy being in here all day. Let’s go outside. Maybe you can run around a bit so your appetite can return.”

You weren’t stupid. You saw from the windows that Hoseok lived in a deep forest and made a lengthy commute each day to the city for his work. Perhaps Hoseok was feeling particularly sadistic today. You had been on your best behavior as of late - you listened well, ate when you didn’t feel ill, wore what he chose for you, told him you loved him and cuddled him and let him kiss you. His obtuseness came completely out of left field. You were the best little girl you could be - it made no sense.

“Hobi, I’m really hungry now. I would like to eat.” By the end of your statement, you were whispering fearfully as he was now leaning in close enough to kiss you.

“Don’t be silly. I saw you looking at the door. Come on,” he tugged you along, bending to tie your shoes for you.

“Hoseok, I really think I should go eat, please. I don’t want to go outside, it’ll be cold and dark and we’re in the forest, pl-”

“You know you want to leave. Don’t you? Wasn’t it only a few weeks ago you were saying you wanted to leave me?”

You’re crying now. “No! Please, I don’t want to leave, I love you, I swear! Hobi, I’ve changed!” Hoseok ignores your cries, pushing you out the front door with a smack on your ass.

“Be back in an hour, sweetheart. I don’t want the wild animals to find you.”

He slammed the door in your face and you began to hyperventilate for a moment. You knew he didn’t retreat from his spot at the door and he could clearly hear your cries. How did just looking at the door for a moment lead to this?

You spent a few minutes on your knees, bawling into your hands on the front porch. The tall forest prematurely made it nightfall at the ground level. After another few minutes, something caught your eye deeper into the woods. You stood slowly, hoping you were correct.

It was a car. A parked red van within walking distance of Hoseok’s house. Your legs moved on their own towards it. You were certain it didn’t belong to Hoseok as you kissed him goodbye from outside his black sedan each day. The drive to get away from Hoseok kicked in like a horse as you began running towards this car, desperate for help or some more information on where in the country the house was. If you were lucky, somebody would be in the car.

You were close enough to read the license plate when a searing pain shot through your leg and burned every cell in your body. You fell forward, coughing up a bit of your stomach after. You screamed for a moment, but then your body stopped taking in air effectively and you were left on the ground like a fish out of water.

You sobbed, desperately searching for a switch or button to release the contraption stuck around your ankle. Just a few yards from the car, chained to a tree was a steel bear trap that you stepped into perfectly. The claws dug well into the flesh on your leg, pouring blood over the forest floor as your heartbeat became erratic. Its jaws were locked far too strongly for you to pry apart. The house was barely visible to you now as the sun set completely and you were utterly stuck by this soccer mom van in the middle of god knows where.

The clock continued to tick as your hour of “freedom” was coming to a close. You wanted to throw up again at the sight of yourself. You nearly called out to Hoseok for help, but restrained yourself quickly. He was right - he always was. He was right for keeping you inside the way he did. You couldn’t even run half a mile into the forest without getting caught in a bear trap. The clinking of metal chains reminded you of your time in Hoseok’s basement and how cold it was and how hungry you became. You were hungry now as well, even through the nausea, and you let out a sad cry as your stomach growled angrily again. If Hoseok ever saved you again, you would eat everything he put in front of you with gusto. You leaned your head against the thick trunk of the tree you were chained to and watched the bugs on the floor crawl by. Your heart twinged as you missed Hoseok after just an hour apart. You felt you were no better than the insects you were watching. 

The pain in your leg was unlike anything you had felt before. You knew it was unrealistic to die from a bear trap, but you felt like you were at the brink. You had long since given up trying to claw the trap apart, stopping when the third of your fingernails split. The blood from your ankle made its way all over the white sweater Hoseok had picked out for you that morning. Hopefully an actual bear would come by and put you out of your misery before Hoseok could come by and chastise you for getting your clothes dirty.

Eventually, you heard his voice through the trees. “Sweetheart!” His voice sang and you panicked at the thought of how angry he would be that you got yourself hurt. You saw a light coming from the direction of your house and you braced yourself to soon be found.

You didn’t have the energy to yell back at him, so you waited for him to find you instead. Hoseok was smarter than you would like to admit and he obviously already knew that you wouldn’t make it far. Yet, he took his sweet, sweet time searching for you.

Eventually, his flashlight landed on your chest and you looked away, nervous to see him. He sighed.

“Oh, baby...look what you did,” he tsked. He stood above you with his hands on his hips, shaking his head. He made a noise of disdain when your lower lip began to tremble. “Hurts, doesn’t it? I would help make it all better, but you’ve been such a bad girl lately. I thought you knew better than to go outside, but I guess you just couldn’t listen to me.”

You covered your mouth to hide your snivelling. “I’m s-so sorry!”

“I know you are, baby. See, if you listen to me and stay inside like a good girl, then these things won’t happen. What am I gonna do with you?” Hoseok bent down to face level with you, still sitting against the tree trunk shivering in immense pain. “I don’t want to force you to do anything you don’t want to do, and earlier you sure made it clear that you don’t want to be in my house with me…”

You sobbed, reaching to hold his shoulders. “No! I want to go back home and be with you. I’m sorry for being ungrateful, I just want to be with you!” Hoseok clicked his tongue in disapproval.

“Is that really what you want, baby? You really want to come back and live with me?” Hoseok spoke slowly, letting you marinate in the ache of your calf. He knew you loved him. Putting you in solitary confinement for the first two months was more than enough for you to worship the ground he walks on. Some days, he just needed to tease you a little.

“Yes, please. I’m sorry, I’ll never leave you, I swear.” Hoseok stared at you with a smile before taking your face into his hands and kissing you for a long moment.

“Good. Jin-hyung is going to help you with your leg, okay?”

Hoseok fishes in his pockets before pulling out a silver key and unlocking the chains around the tree.

“Wow, baby, you must have really run into this trap for it to have closed on you so hard...we better take it out in the house.”

You stared at him in shock. “This...this trap was yours?” Hoseok smoothed the top of your head.

“Everything on this land is mine,” he hissed with a sweet smile. 

“B-but, I’ve never seen you drive this car. And why do you have bear traps!? You don’t hunt, Hoseok!” You are steadily becoming more hysterical and Hoseok sighs, hugging you to him. You holler at the pain of him shifting your leg.

“Baby, this is Jungkook’s car. You remember him, right? He’s taking his fianceè to Busan soon and they’ll need a car to hold their kids someday. He’s keeping it here because his apartment only gives him one parking space.” Hoseok kisses your cheek, rubbing your back when your crying intensifies. Ah, he’ll need to bring you back home soon before you lose too much blood. “You can understand that, can’t you?”

Hyperventilating on top of a foot caught in a bear trap had you lightheaded. You rested your cheek against Hoseok’s shoulder. “How am I supposed to get this off my foot?” You sobbed.

Hoseok cooed, rubbing your back a little harder. “I thought you knew what’s best for yourself...since you’re such a big girl and you always take ca-”

You cut him off with a wail. “Hoseok, please help me! I’ll die here, please!” He hissed at your yelling on his shoulder.

“Shh, stop that! Ah, I guess I can try and help you get back to the house. I thought you didn’t need someone like me…” Hoseok got started on unchaining the trap.

“No, I-I do need you! I’m sorry, I’ll never act out again…” you mumbled ashamedly. Hoseok heaved you up with a pained scream from you. He kissed your cheek in a lame attempt to calm you.

“Yeah? Are you going to be my good girl and stay inside the house?”

You cried a bit harder when he said this, remembering how you bawled on his front steps after he shut the door on you.

“Yes, I promise,” you whimpered.

“Good. Jin-hyung will be here in an hour to help fix you. Shh, don’t cry, I know it’s a long time,” he whispered to you. You cried all the way to the house and all the way down the concrete stairs to Hoseok’s basement.

“I don’t like it here, Hobi, please...can’t we go somewhere else?” Hoseok calmed your weeping by playing with your hair.

“This is what’s best. I’m here with you, my love...remember I love you so much.” He kissed your forehead softly. “We’ll get you out of this mess.”

You wrapped your hands around the sheets of the bed Hoseok placed you on and writhed in agony.

“It hurts,” you mumbled, still crying softly.

Hoseok cooed, “Aw, my baby…”

The anger within you began to rise like a tidal wave. Perhaps it was being back in this bed under Hoseok’s house, or perhaps you were finally understanding the lengths Hoseok would go to in order to claim you. The throbbing in your ankle aligned with a new throbbing in your head. Hoseok lay with you on the bed you woke up chained to all those months ago when he first took you. It took three strokes to the top of our head for you to snap.

“You did this to me,” you whispered, turning your face away from him.

Hoseok stopped stroking your hair as if he had just been doused with cold water.

“Huh? Say that again for me, baby, I didn’t quite hear you.” Hoseok tangled his fingers in your hair. You braced yourself for a harsh tug.

“This is your trap. I didn’t even want to go outside. I wasn’t even being bad.”

You didn’t force yourself to look at him as you spoke. You couldn’t even remember the last time you had stood up to him...was it recent? Wasn’t it during those first three days in his basement? It felt like a dream.

“I’ve been perfect these last few months. You kidnapped me yet I have been perfect for you! I didn’t deserve this!” You were steadily becoming hysterical. It felt good to let yourself become unraveled after weeks of living complacently in his clutch. Hoseok still hadn’t said anything, still keeping his hand gently against your scalp.

“How could you do this to me? I’ve done everything you’ve asked of me and you put me in a bear trap for what? Not eating my dinner? I didn’t eat because you make me sick!”

At this point, Hoseok began calmly rising from the bed and making his way over to your trapped foot. You barely noticed, too wound up in your angry rant. You didn’t care anymore. There was just no right way to be Hoseok’s victim, and there was no hope for escape either. You were surrounded by miles of forest and the only communication with other humans was Hoseok’s equally repulsive friends and two of them were moving across the country soon. You envied them and their stupid red van and happy little life. You had only met Jungkook and his fiancèe once, but they seemed to love each other deeply. You once wished for something like that, at least before Hoseok came into your life.

“You stupid motherfucker! Piece of shit! Fix my fucking leg, you asshole!” Hoseok watched you yell with blank eyes before cracking a slight smile. He chuckled, adoring the way your tongue was so sharp.

“Are you done, sweetie?” He massaged your calves. The pain in your foot almost felt as hot as the rage bubbling through your veins at the moment.

“You’re going to burn in hell for what you’ve done to me. Son of the devil,” you hissed.

Hoseok grinned wordlessly again before placing his hands on both sides of the bear trap and releasing its jaws with a manly grunt. A scream ripped through you, dying into dry sobs after a moment. You supposed it was good that he did it when you were furious and the adrenaline was pushing you off the edge.

Hoseok was panting heavily. “Baby, did you know that some animals gnaw their own limbs off to free themselves from bear traps?” You watched with a glare as he fiddled with the contraption. You prayed that he would be offended enough to just kill you already. “I haven’t seen it happen myself. Some hunters find bear traps inhumane for that very reason. I understand. The animal has done no wrong, correct?” The shoddy lighting of his basement cast a shadow over his face.

“I can’t imagine how it would feel to be so helpless like that...so scared and alone...you must have felt that way back in that forest, huh? Baby?” You refused to entertain him any longer. Hoseok was being oddly soft-spoken and gentle with his tone. It wasn’t often that he brought out this voice.

“You must be so upset, huh? Scared, maybe even suicidal. You might even feel like a lost cause.” The trap snapped back into its original open position with a clang. “I’ve never viewed you that way. All I’ve ever seen you as was my perfect girl, even when you weren’t being so good. I never lost hope in you. All I’ve ever wanted was for you to snap out of it and love me too and fucking mean it.” His tone turned angry for a second, but he quickly shut it down. You stared at how he held the open trap with such expertise.

“You might think you were being so careful and good, but I see right through you. I just know you so well, baby. I knew deep down, there was still a part of you that defied me, even though I just wanted you to be your best self. I knew there was still some part of you left for me to crack apart and mold to include me with it.”

You were much more dizzy now.

“I’m doing this for your own good. So we can be happy together.”

You caught on with a start, sitting up quickly. You couldn’t even get one word out before Hoseok swiftly grabbed your good foot with a heavy hand and positioned it on the plate of the open trap. He jumped back, successfully evading the teeth of the trap which were now clamped around your other foot.

You let out a gut-wrenching scream. Not only did you scream from the pain of the bear trap, but also from the pain of the cold basement, the pain of the thick woods that surrounded the house. Hoseok watched you thrash on the bed as if you were possessed. Both of your ankles poured out blood and soiled the white bed sheets you lay on.

“Honey, be careful! Look at what happened to the sheets,” he tsked. “Ah, look at what you’ve done. How did my silly girl manage to get caught into two traps in one day? What am I gonna do with you?”

You began bawling again as Hoseok remained standing over you. His voice remained sickly sweet and you found yourself yearning for him to taunt you with his usual nasty tone.

“I want to die,” you weep. Hoseok seemed affected by this for a second before reverting back to his calm stance.

He silently came back around the bed, placing a kiss on your forehead once more before making his way up the concrete stairs. You thought about calling out to him for a moment, but ultimately decided not to. Hoseok shut the door behind him, not bothering to lock it. You wouldn’t be able to walk anyway. He made his way to the kitchen, stretching as he did so, and opened a cabinet in search of some tea. Your cries were barely audible over the hum of the microwave heating his water.

[starlightrows]

Hi baby 💖💖 congrats for reaching a milestone

Could you please match me with any mando or clone boi 🥺

So, I'm Katie, I'm the infp personality. My rising sign is sagittarius and sun&moon is aries.

I'm an English major, and I'm really into learning languages. I can speak English, duh, Polish, Russian and Korean plus I've just started taking Spanish classes at uni. I'd love to become a certified translator in the future.

I used to work as a teacher so I think I'm fairly good with guiding people, especially children.

I'm obsessed with anything pink, cute and fluffy. I still want to be a princess, even though I'm 22 years old. However, as much as I love my cutesy stuff, I have days when I feel like a baddie, wearing all black instagram model fits.

I think I'm also addicted to makeup, especially falsies lol and gaming. I spend too much time either watching makeup tutorials or playing minecraft.

I think I'm a really caring person and I'd always try to help in any way I can but I have days when I feel like I need to be treated and spoiled like a princess (and I'm the subbiest sub ever!)

Oh, I also love traveling, getting to know different cultures. I have visited many countries and I plan on expanding the list in the future.

I'm an anxious loner and I don't really like crowded places. My humor is a weird mixture of sarcasm, edginess and general gen z memes lol.

Idk if that's enough info, I'm a rather boring person without anything interesting going on in my life but I hope you'll find a fictional match for me lmao.

One again, congrats on reaching 200 followers 💖💖 ily

Katie!!! My love!!!! 🥰💗

*mentally running through the list of doms we have been blessed with in this fandom* Listen, this one might a little out of left field, but I’m feeling it for you... I’m really feeling Paz. Like a Covert Leader or maybe even a Mand’alor AU version Paz. I think he loooooves having a girly partner that’s all rosy pink and fluffy, and goes absolutely bonkers when you’re having an Insta Baddie kind of day. I personally HC Paz as being well traveled because of going out and providing for the covert (potentially before becoming the leader?) he will take you everywhere you want to see in the galaxy, buy you the cutest and prettiest things you want, and take care of you in every little way! You wanna be his little Princess, you got it babes! Lmk what you think!!!

[ohnoyoonoh]

PREVIEW of PHILIA & EROS

author -; @ohnoyoonoh​

genre. au -; highschool au, based on/inspired by the movie. the half of it. coming of age.

pairing -; lee jeno x oc, huang renjun x oc, jeno x oc x renjun, renjun x jeno (ish)

synopsis -; a story of where someone asks a writer to write them a love letter for the girl they like except the writer likes this girl, too. it's an adventure of lessons in friendship and first love with renjun, jeno, and hwayoung in the town of dalgleish, oregon.

author’s note -; sneak peek into my upcoming story with jeno and renjun. i was actually very passionate in this story. this is the first story in a while that will be tagged with networks, yayyy lol lmk if you wanna be part of the taglist

warnings -; love triangle, strong language, minor bullying, whole story includes touches on sexuality, touches on sex but not committed, underage drinking and drug use, mention of minor character death (renjun’s mom), kissing, long ass story lemme tell you that

word count -; (preview) 4.8k and it’s only the beginning

Love. Love certainly comes in different forms. According to C.S. Lewis, there are four types that people focus on: Storge, Philia, Eros, and Agape. Omitting agape as many do not believe in the Christian faith, the other three simply play a role in everyone’s upbringing whether they notice the existence of these loves in their life or not. Following the words of Lewis, we would be obliged to love every single day without a choice whether it’s to us or seeing it with others. We see love wherever we go. But in this society, do we really know what love is? Love is not as straightforward as we thought it would be unlike adding and subtracting in math. Love is strange but whatever the perspective by the person, it could also be the most beautiful thing in the world.

And that is not how you write a world-class essay to make you pass an honors class.

Huang Renjun began to press the backspace of the conclusion to the last essay he needed to write for the English class. It wasn’t his essay that he was writing but one that was in his queue of his homework services. The list was stacked with requests of the take on C.S. Lewis’s Four Loves for Mrs. Lee’s Junior English Honors class, but the teacher could care less that the students cheated in the class in the peewee town of Dalgleish in the state of Oregon.

Dalgleish didn’t have much except for the Pretty Douglas Fir trees decorated around the boundaries of the town. It was fitting as the Dalgleish basically meant green field. There weren’t many open fields but looking at the town from above, the amount of trees make it look like a green space. That was one of the things that Renjun enjoyed seeing, the nature that the town offered. It was calming, least to say. Losing himself into the natura was a good getaway from the extensive labor he needed to do to support him and his family. His family consisted of his father and younger sister, Mei. His mother passed away due to breast cancer when Renjun was thirteen and Mei was ten.

That was the reason why he started his business of the homework services, but it also extended into adding more part time jobs to continue a decent salary for a high school student. His father never asked him to do any of these jobs because he never wanted to overwork Rejnun and his sister during high school. He wanted to make sure that they could focus primarily on their school work and occasional side jobs to include in their résumés and transcripts. Though due to the passing of his wife, he wasn’t able to commit to his computer science career and waived off the successful path to enter a minimum wage job.

Renjun understood the reason for his father’s lack of working, which is why he stepped up a little more than a teenager should carry on their shoulders. He loved his family too much to not do so. Which is why, he was checking off the list of names on his queue for the homework that needed to be handed that day.

Zhong Chenle

Eleanor Lee

Amie Quill

Wong Yukhei

Eugene Mills and the list going on.

He calculated the amount that was due and the total, making sure that no one paid him less. He didn’t mind if someone paid more, as it would be beneficial to any extra expenses that needed to be paid off. “$20 per essay, mm.. $200. That should be enough to cover the water bill and the groceries.”

Mei nodded, writing the total on the sticky notes that littered all over the mirrored wall. The wall full of sticky notes for the week logging any needed tasks to be finished. Wherever there weren’t any sticky notes were old pictures of the family and memories in their upbringing or new polaroid pictures of Renjun and Mei. It was a nice reminder of the moments that were captured in the midst of the hard every days.

“Hey, uh, Renjun, I was wondering if I could go to homecoming?” Mei questioned, breaking the silence as Renjun revised the to-do lists while editing his own essay. He forgot to do so since the amount of requests to do their homework was unbelievable. The only downside of the homework service was that everyone requests last minute. “Renjun.”

“Sorry, I forgot to do my homework,” he snapped his head up, letting his sister know that she had his undivided attention. Mostly. “Uh, what did you ask?”

“I was just asking if I could go to homecoming, I’ll even work extra hours to pay for my dress. I’ll even pick up some of the homework in your requests,” Mei pleaded, not verbally but through her eyes. Renjun stared at her, wondering if she was serious. It wasn’t uncommon for freshmen to attend high school events, especially someone like his sister. Mei was and still is the type of person to enjoy the events that school offers. It was the perfect opportunity to spend time with her friends and escape the hours of working. That was what Renjun recalled during their late night talks as they pleated the dumplings for their lunches for the rest of the week.

“Renjun, stop spacing out,” Mei shook his shoulder, seeing if it would wake him up out of his trance.

“Uh, yeah yeah. You can help me with some of the homework and take over my shift for the next two days at the library, is that okay?” Renjun offered. He knew he would have felt bad if he said no. Knowing his sister, she would either give up on working and not get a new dress, or give up working and not going to homecoming all together.

Mei agreed, nodding her head profusely and quickly embracing her brother. Renjun stood there, reluctantly wrapping his arms around her. Mei rarely showed affection to him which is why he seemed so surprised at the actions. Nonetheless, he appreciated the love. God. Love. Love. Love. His essay. His eyes widened, releasing from the grasp of his sister, “Crap, I need to finish the last paragraph of my essay.”

The sound of the alarm ringing through the kitchen, notifying the Huang siblings that it was time for them to head to school. Renjun groaned, wanting to bang his head against the wall. He shoved the folder with the homeworks that he finished inside of his backpack while tossing Mei her lunch. He grabbed the pen that hung off of the wall, checking off the sticky note that was made a week before to remind him of the work to do. Renjun rechecked everything once more to be certain that he hadn’t skipped over anything. Assuring himself that he didn’t miss anything, he grabbed the keys of his dad’s car and made his way out the door. Before exiting the house, his dad seemed to be missing from his usual spot on the couch but knew he was home due to his shoes still at the door.

“Mei, is dad still home?” Renjun questioned as he sat on the floor to put his shoes on. Mei turned around to face her brother and nodded, “He’s taking a shower and already made his food.”

Renjun nodded, slinging his backpack over his shoulders to adjust the straps as he wore it, “Are you ready to go?”

“I’ve been ready, I don’t know about you,” Mei sarcastically retorted. Renjun scoffed, standing up and opening the door to allow his sister to go out first. As they walked outside to get to the car, Renjun playfully kicked her leg causing her to quickly turn around to punch him. He quickly ran to the car to escape her wrath.

“Alright, I’ll see you later. Don’t forget your shift at the library,” the male informed his sister as they both entered the school. Mei groaned but nodded, saying goodbye to her brother as she parted ways to join her friends. Now, Renjun was stuck to being a high class loner for the rest of the day. He never made any friends, well ones that didn’t last long. Though he was content with that. It was better than having ones that would backstab you or talk behind your back. For being a small town, Dalgleish didn’t have much to offer with people. So, people created their own drama. Luckily in all of the Huang siblings’ time in Dalgleish, they never had any mentions of being in drama. They only were the butt of the joke of their low-class dad, but Mei and Renjun never paid attention, so the joke died before it was even alive. That belonged to the top of the hierarchy in their school. But, Renjun could care less about them and rather focused on his studies and jobs.

“Here is yours and Chenle’s homework,” Renjun flipped through the countless essays in the folder, handing Lucas the needed homework.

“Ahh, thanks, let me send you the money now. I’m also paying for Chenle’s, just in case you wonder why there’s extra,” Lucas pulled his phone out to send the money through the Venmo app.

Feeling his phone buzz, Renjun took his phone out to check that the amount was correct. Confirming that it was right, well it was actually over. Chenle and Lucas were always kind enough to pay extra. They always said it was just for the hard work that he gives since they were his first customers and the growth of the services. “Thanks, Lucas.”

Lucas smiled before heading his way for his class. After he left, Renjun continued to make his way to all of the students that needed their work for the day. He scheduled different locations and times around the school to make sure that his contraband work wasn’t known to the faculty of the school. The only one who knew was their English and Physics teachers. Mrs. Lee and Dr. Jean.

Mrs. Lee immediately knew that the essays by the students in her class weren’t written that perfectly. The growth from one essay to another seemed to be developed overnight. Not trying to question her students, they were bright but most that had the perfect scored work weren’t the brightest. Knowing this, Mrs. Lee found out after give and take, she realized that the work was by Renjun. To let him know that she knew, she asked to conference with him after class. The only thing that Renjun grasped from the conversation is that she blatantly called her students stupid when it came to essays. Renjun agreed but defended them that they were smart in other areas and needed to strengthen their levels in the writing department.

And for Dr. Jean, he just didn’t care.

“So, who’d you write for this time? I just don’t wanna read the essays to waste my time to give them A’s,” Mrs. Lee sat in her chair, sipping on her cup of coffee as she watched Renjun pack his stuff up so he could attend his next class.

He dismissed his teacher’s comment, placing his essay on her desk, “I’ll give you a list later. Oh, I also need a recommendation from my favorite teacher.” He smiled, setting a blank recommendation letter for the college he’s applying to on her desk.

He watched her scan over the document, only for her face to scrunch up in disgust. He reflected her expression with his own face, confused as to why she looked repulsed, “What is it now?”

“I don’t know, you could have chosen a better school with your grades and get in,” she tossed the paper into her neat stack before grabbing the essays and shelving it.

Renjun shrugged, knowing that the reason is that he was afraid to leave his sister and dad. More so, his sister. He didn’t want to leave all of the responsibilities to his sister. To delve even farther, the responsibility of taking care of their father. He wasn’t sure if Mei was ready to do it. A lot of people may wonder why he even thinks of his father, but his dad was still family. Their dad may not be in the best state and not pulling his weight as the head of the family, but he still worked every so often. Their dad was lucky enough to be friends with the owner of his job, and the owner understood the hardships that he was going through. The consequence of his lack in effort fell on his children.

“I just think it would be better if you attend some other college, maybe, I don’t know,” Mrs. Lee retrieved another document on a clipboard, handing it to him.

He grabbed the clipboard, wondering what it was. An application to University of Oregon. He laughed, tearing his eyes away from it to look out the window. She’s still trying to do this. He gave the clipboard back, “I can’t go to this university. It’s not even that good.”

“It was good to me,” Mrs. Lee gave him a hall pass on a sticky note before waving him off to allow him to get to his next class.

“Well, I’m passing and staying in the best town in the world,” he waved as he walked out of the class.

Renjun pondered on the idea of leaving Dalgleish, but would it be the right decision. Everything he needed was right here. There could be a great job opportunity when he graduates from the community college. Well somewhere and that somewhere is not in Dalgleish. He was going to have to move out of the town one way or another if he wanted to pursue his dream of becoming a computer scientist. Maybe, he could find a way to come back to Dalgleish, opening a company would be beneficial. That was settled on a maybe. For now, all he needed to do was pass junior year and move onto senior year.

Making his way inside of the physics classroom, he showed the pass to Dr. Jean, only for it to be dismissed. He took his seat next to the window in the back. With the lack of care that his teacher had in the class, Renjun worked on the next requests of his services.

“Renjun, you’re working with Isabelle,” his teacher declared. Renjun picked up his head so fast, wondering as to why there’s suddenly a project. He was always informed beforehand in the beginning of the semester of what’s to come, but he came to realize Dr. Jean was the best teacher at coming up with random projects. Renjun just nodded, clearing his backpack from the chair next to him allowing Isabelle to sit it in.

Isabelle gave him a head bow, greeting him, “Hi. I’m Isabelle but you could just call me Hwayoung. You probably already knew that. I can’t believe Dr. Jean still calls me Isabelle, probably because he can’t pronounce half of our names.”

Renjun chuckled, shutting his computer off to place back in his backpack. He picked two of the copies of the paper before tossing the extra copies inside of the extra copy bucket that was behind him. He handed the paper to Hwayoung before reading the document. Seeing it was the project, his mouth contorted to a form of disappointment in finding the surprise assignment. The project didn’t even have anything to do with physics but basically getting to know your partner and put it in a PowerPoint. He didn’t know if he wanted to cry or laugh. He glanced in Hwayoung’s direction: Pretty. Pretty. Popular.

Choi Hwayoung. The ideal girl that anyone could ask for. She was nice and smart. She was one of the pretty girls of the school, and everyone knew that. Renjun liked her when he joined the Model UN team, and she was also on it. He thought that she was also smart when she stood her ground during the time of Model UN. He wished he could have stayed longer as he enjoyed it, but his sister wasn’t all that capable when he had to leave for a competition once. Despite thinking the basic reasons for him liking her, he liked how she smiled and her dimples just protruded. Her eyes were full of life when debating. How she spun her pen between her fingers when she was in focus. Renjun, tone your feelings down.

Now, he wasn’t sure if he still liked her due to the lack of attention he gave his own feelings.

“Oh right, my name is Renjun,” he whispered as Dr. Jean ranted on another go of the conspiracy theories of the Illuminati and Beyoncé . His teacher always made the time in class go by faster or slower depending on how dedicated he is to the conspiracy topic. Some were more interesting than others. He looked over to her writing, “I think you knew that already.”

“Yeah, I did. You were on the Model UN team but left, you were really good at what you did,” Hwayoung complimented him. He smiled, nodding as his way of accepting the praise.

The small talk ceased as the bell rang for dismissal, he collected his items and shoved them into his backpack. He slung his backpack over his shoulder, “I’ll do the project and turn it in when it’s finished.”

“But this is a two person project. I am not asking for your homework service to come in play here,” Hwayoung turned to look at him. “Maybe, we could just actually do it together. Unless you don’t want to because you’re uncomfortable to do that which then do the project by yourself, just text me if you need anything.”

With that, she smiled and left. Renjun watched her leave the classroom. That was a first. Typically any project with partners left Renjun to do the work all by himself, which he didn’t mind. Most complain that they had to do it by themselves, but he enjoyed the easy A without the others messing it up.

The final school bell rang, but Renjun was already in the car, waiting for his sister. He hummed to the music, tapping to the tunes of Ariana Grande’s Dangerous Woman album. His head turned to the door opening, and his sister joined him in the car already singing the song. Renjun turned down the volume, “Ready?”

She nodded while buckling up her seatbelt. Renjun placed the car in reverse, only for a student to be waving a paper trying to get his attention. He wasn’t paying attention, trying to get Mei to work on time was his priority.

As he continued to reverse the car, he still hadn’t noticed the student until Mei tugged on his jacket. He slammed on the breaks, finally seeing the student waving the paper around in the rear-view mirror. He almost ran over him. He inhaled and exhaled deeply, trying to come to a compromise in his head that he almost committed homicide by accident, “What the hell?”

The male student walked around from the rear of the car before going around to the driver’s side. He knocked on Renjun’s window before Renjun rolled the window, “Why were you in my way?”

“You almost killed me. Shouldn’t you feel a little empathetic?” The student smiled with a teasing tone in his voice.

“If you have nothing important, I will be going now,” Renjun put the car in drive, starting to press on the acceleration pedal. He still wanted to know what the student wanted, but it was probably just another order for homework help. “If you want me to do your homework, find my number and text me.”

“I want you to help me write a love letter. I read your essay for Lucas, and it was really good,” the student requested, holding the note out. Renjun slammed on the brakes once again, but this time, Mei slapped her brother in the shoulder for the discomfort of their backs hitting the seats so harshly. He looked at her with an apologetic expression before his gaze turned back to the student.

The student held the note at the window, which Renjun started to read.

Dear Choi Hwayoung.

The first three words were enough for Renjun to decide if he was going to help this fool or not. He shoved the letter back into the hands of the requester, “Nope, I’m not writing a love letter to Hwayo- to her.”

“Oh, to who?” Mei pitched in. Love always made people curious, well more nosy. Then, the ideas of who ends up with who just turned into a big mess. Renjun certainly didn’t want to help someone out that wanted to create a love letter. Plus if he was the recipient of a love letter, he hoped it wasn’t made by someone that didn’t have feelings for the person. Or in Renjun’s case, written by the person’s personal feelings. Otherwise, it wouldn’t be genuine. Artificial. Unauthentic. Fake. Love isn’t supposed to be any of those things if a person wants to make it work.

“No one, Mei.” Renjun answered before he turned back to the student, “Have a good day.” He rolled the windows back up and continued to drive away to his priority. He looked in the mirror once more to find the student sulking with his head down. He chuckled. That’s so pathetic.

“Hey, you could have totally picked that request up. That was Lee Jeno,” Mei tapped away on her phone as she informed him of who the student was. Renjun scoffed, but he also was unsure why the name of the student is relevant. Customers are customers. There’s no needed relationship as it’s based on monetary and satisfaction of getting work done. Mei looked at her brother who stayed silent, and she was sure that he had no clue who Jeno was. She raised her eyebrow, “Do you not know who Lee Jeno is?”

“Do I care? Mm.. Not really,” he didn’t really care about who Jeno was. He rarely cared about any of the people in the school, as they weren’t his business. He wanted to stay out of anyone’s mouths as much as possible. Renjun thought of who Jeno was because he did sound familiar. They lived in a small town, so everyone knew most of each other. Dalgleish compromised mostly of East Asians, but nonetheless it still had a good variety of other ethnicities. It shouldn’t be hard to think of who Jeno was. Ah, he’s the boy who used to live four houses down when they were younger before the downfall of the Huangs came about. Jeno would try to invite them to play often with the other kids in the neighborhood, but Renjun was shy at the time, and Mei wasn’t the one who enjoyed company. Though that did start to change as they grew older. Renjun wasn’t shy, just liked to keep to himself to stay out of trouble, and Mei enjoys the energy with people.

“Jeno is the star student of the school, more like the perfect Asian kid. He plays the violin, ping-pong captain, forward for soccer, and is part of A Honor Roll,” Mei listed all of the things that Jeno specialized in. Renjun listened but wasn’t in awe of the achievements that Jeno had. Most of the kids in the school participated in those activities, differing in sports and academics. Everyone had their own skill set to show off, which made Jeno not any different from the student body.

“Okay, what does that have to do with me?” Renjun questioned, stopping at the red light. He wasn’t sure what his sister was making in her brain. She was most likely going to lose track of where she was heading to prove a point.

“Plus, he banks and his parents have this IT company in California. So if you help him, he could probably get you to return in favor by getting you an internship,” Mei added onto her tracks. She sure did make a point. That was a first. Renjun surely could land a job if he gets an internship, but he didn’t want to use someone like that. He wanted to do it on his own.

“Yeah, no. I refuse to do that,” Renjun pressed his foot down on the gas pedal, accelerating the car as the light switched to green.

“How come? It’s a good opportunity, I’m just saying,” Mei said as she shuffled around in her seat, adjusting her jacket.

“Well, I don’t want to use someone like that. I want to get there on my own, no matter how hard it is. I have a plan to get there,” Renjun answered. He arranged his future’s timeline, coming up with the desired plan. He thought of Plan B, just in case the first one didn’t work. Then, he had his safety plans just in case nothing of his wants couldn’t come to reality.

Mei answered with a hum. Renjun was glad that she didn’t continue the conversation. He parked next to the curb in front of the library and turned off the engine. He decided to study at the library. He didn’t have much to do today other than making dinner and finishing the rest of the requests that he didn’t assign to his sister. Plus, the library offered free food and beverages to their workers. And, who doesn’t like free food?

“Your shift ends at 7, which is perfect. I’ll be in my usual section, working and studying if you need anything,” Renjun said as he left his sister as they entered the downtown library. He walked towards the Japanese literature section, quietly greeting some of the regular goers that he recognized. Living in Dalgleish, he picked up quite a few languages. He was surrounded by multiple ethnicities who differed in languages and to benefit the elderly who weren’t comfortable using English, he thought it would be nice to learn their native language. Plus, there were foreigners who came frequently to visit the town. It was like a tourist attraction, sometimes. Even if there wasn’t anything to see in the town.

Renjun was only fluent in Mandarin Chinese and Korean, but he was conversational in other languages like Cantonese and Japanese. He tried to make the effort, plus his world geography class had an extra credit opportunity to explore languages. Despite not seeming to be a people person at school, Renjun was able to converse easily with others when he was out and about. He often got teased by his sister for it because he always said he was not a people person.

He placed his belongings on the ground, unpacking his laptop, and plugging the charger in the outlet to refuel the laptop’s battery. Putting his earphones in to enjoy his music, he bopped his head a little to the beats. Renjun checked his list if he had any new requests. He wanted to know if Jeno asked for one with his love letter. That’s so stupid. Love letters are supposed to be personal. He’s such a dumbass.

“Hey.” came out of nowhere. Renjun jerked in his chair a little, even if he had earphones, he didn’t blast it just in case someone asked him about anything in the library. He still was a worker there, even if he wasn’t working. He thrived off of a busy schedule. He didn’t thrive off on being startled.

He whipped his head to the person who peeked over his shoulder, almost throwing his hands around if it wasn’t in a public place or at least a library. He saw the same boy from earlier, only this time in neater clothes. Jeno was wearing his athletic warm-ups when he was at the school. Renjun just blinked his eyes before shaking his head and getting back to his laptop, “You’re in a library, look through some books for inspiration for your love letter. Good luck to you and bye.”

“Oh come on, I’m not the best at words and expressing my feelings. Can you just at least read it and revise?” Jeno asked, moving a chair from another table to sit with Renjun. The ping-pong star received hushes from those around him, causing both Renjun and Jeno to have apologetic looks to them.

Renjun shook his head, “No. No way.”

“I’ll pay you extra from what your highest price is. I’ll pay you even more for authenticity,” Jeno pulled his phone out. Renjun peeked over at Jeno’s screen to see his website page with the costs of the homework papers. He thought about the extra costs. He possibly could buy his sister’s dress for homecoming, so she could keep her money from work and spend it on makeup and other necessities to get ready for school events. It was a good idea, but Renjun wasn’t the best at even expressing feelings and whatnot.

“I’ll give you $100 for this one letter,” Jeno offered.

“Alright, sold.”

[homoose]

Winning is a Habit

Hi y’all! Okay sooooooooo this is my first time writing fic??????? Like omg please be nice lmao. I don’t have a beta reader, so if you catch any mistakes pls lmk! I saw this challenge and the world is total garbage, so why not write our own realities????? Ok here goes!!!!!!!!!! Written for @veraiconcos fic challenge

Summary: The BAU gets called to investigate two high-profile murders in a college town, only to find that they are part of a much bigger, more complicated picture. No real pairings, although you could make it happen if you want lol ;) This is an idea I’ve seen floating around the fandom for a little while now, and I really wanted to see it fleshed out. Set around season 4 or 5.

Category: some angst, sort of fluff? I wouldn’t say it necessarily qualifies as an AU, but it’s outside of canon.

Warnings/Includes: some brief descriptions of violence/CM type stuff; mentions of rape (no details)

Word count: 6.1k

———

“Stillwater, Oklahoma,” JJ said, navigating the map off screen and pulling up the crime scene photos. “Two college seniors— Tyler Allen and Leon Williams, star football players for Oklahoma State University— both found dead the day before the playoff qualifier.”

“Do we know the cause of death?” Spencer asked, thumbing through the case file.

“The ME report concluded that both boys died of acute alcohol poisoning,” JJ informed them.

Emily looked up from the file. “And the locals don’t think this could just be a case of college kids having a little too much fun?”

“Before a major playoff game? I doubt it.” Derek leaned back in his chair. “Especially considering OSU’s having a record-breaking season. I’d guess the coach had players on a pretty strict lockdown.” He raised his hands and joined them in a steeple over his chest. “Showing up to a game hung-over— particularly one as important as this— would be a major conduct issue.”

“That, and there was a pretty specific message left on both victims,” JJ added, arms crossed and eyebrows lifting into her hairline.

“On them?” Rossi questioned.

JJ motioned with her hand back to the screen. Six sets of eyes moved over the photo; the words “U LOSE” scrawled in ink across the foreheads of the two men.

“Resorting to murder to win a football game?” Emily asked, eyes narrowed.

“And why use the forensic countermeasure of staged alcohol poisoning, only to backtrack and assert it as a murder?” Spencer pondered, pursing his lips.

“Whatever the reason, we’ve got two dead college students and a definite signature. Wheels up in 30,” Hotch told them, closing his case file.

⧭⧭⧭

“No sign of forced entry.” Derek walked through the entry hallway and into the living space. “Doesn’t look like there was any struggle, either.”

Rossi thumbed through the mail on the kitchen counter and peered around the small space. “Everything you’d expect in a boys’ college dorm room: dishes in the sink, generic decor, general mess. Nothing that stands out.”

“Agents, thank you so much for coming.” A tall man in a dark suit stepped across the threshold of the apartment. He stuck out his hand for Rossi to shake. “Steven Barrett, Dean of Students.”

“I’m Supervisory Special Agent David Rossi. This is SSA Derek Morgan.” Derek nodded from his place in the living room.

“I apologize for not meeting you when you arrived. We’re dealing with a grieving campus,” Barrett said, running a hand over his face. “I’m actually on my way to speak to the Board, but I wanted to check in with you before. I’m not sure I can be of much help, but I can try to answer any questions you might have.”

“These boys were seniors, but they still lived on campus. Is that typical?” Rossi asked, gesturing around the apartment.

“Uh, yes, it is for student athletes,” Barrett confirmed with a nod. “OSU teams have demanding, sometimes grueling practice schedules. Being on campus simplifies things, allows students to get to classes and practices, as well as utilize the dining halls.”

“Does this building have security cameras?” Derek raised an eyebrow.

“Yes. All of our buildings do. I’ll let Campus PD know you’ll need access to the footage.” Barrett’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He reached for it and punched the button to answer the call. “Yes. Yes, I—I’m finishing up with the FBI now. I understand. I’m on my way.” He ended the call and pocketed the phone. “I’m sorry to leave you, gentlemen. Our top priority right now is supporting our students and community through this tragedy. Part of that healing process is finding out who did this to Tyler and Leon. So anything else you need, anything at all, please don’t hesitate to let me know.” He turned on his heel and disappeared down the hall.

Derek shook his head. “I’m glad I don’t have to do that job right about now.”

Rossi gave another glance around the nondescript apartment and sighed. “Call Garcia and ask her if she’s found any other cases that could be related. And let’s hope there’s something useful on that security footage.”

⧭⧭⧭

“Based on lividity and rigor mortis, I was able to put the time of death between 8:00 and 10:00pm on Wednesday evening. The blood alcohol content for both boys was over five times the legal limit. I’ve never seen anything like it,” the medical examiner mused.

Emily looked over the bodies, her arms crossed. “Dr. Saraj, about how much would they have to drink for the level to be that high?”

“When drinking, the level of alcohol in our blood reaches a peak before it drops off after the last drink ingested,” Spencer supplied. “In a typical night of drinking, spread over the course of several hours, the average man can have 8-12 drinks without ever reaching lethal levels. But considering each victim weighed around 230 pounds, they’d have had to ingest approximately 180 ounces of beer or 18.75 ounces of liquor to reach a lethal blood alcohol content.”

Dr. Saraj glanced at Spencer before adding, “Look, this is a college town. Kids drink. But... to have had this much alcohol still detectable in their system post-mortem indicates that these boys drank at least the equivalent of a 30 rack, by themselves, in less than an hour.” She flipped up the first page of the report in her hands, eyes scanning the second. “And the toxicology screen also found trace amounts of ketamine.”

Spencer bent over the examining table and adjusted the wrist of one of the boys with a gloved hand. “Doctor, are these ligature marks?”

“Oh, yes,” Dr. Saraj agreed, nodding. “They’re relatively faint, so I almost missed them. But I found similar marks on both boys on the wrists and ankles.”

“So,” Emily said, gesturing with her hands, “the unsub doses them with ketamine to gain control, ties them up, forces them to drink lethal amounts of alcohol, and then— what?” She looked to Spencer. “Waits for them to pass out before removing the restraints and leaving the message?”

Spencer examined the marker scrawls. “Were you able to determine what the message was written with and if it was left pre- or post-mortem?”

“My guess would be it was written with some type of permanent marker, but I can’t say for sure,” Dr. Saraj said. “We’re analyzing the residue now, and I can send the report your way as soon as I have it. As for when it was written, I couldn't tell you.” She shook her head. “The one simple mercy is that these boys would have been out cold for a while before they died.”

⧭⧭⧭

“I’m so sorry. I know how difficult this is. Anything that you can tell us will be helpful in finding the person who did this,” JJ encouraged softly. “Anyone that Tyler might have had an argument with recently or who he mentioned having problems with?”

“No, no. He was—he was just your typical boy,” Mrs. Allen sniffled. “Playing football and hanging out with his friends,” she said, voice hitching. “Oh my god.” She dropped her head into her hands.

“He didn’t have time to have problems,” Mr. Allen asserted. “He spent all his free time on the field. Coach had them out there for two-a-days until classes started. He’s the quarterback. He was leading that team to the first national title since 1945.” He stood to his feet, hands clenched at his sides. “Some lunatic murdered my boy and you’re sitting around talking to us while they’re out there, walking free.”

“Sir, I promise you that we have some of the best agents in the country working on your son’s case,” JJ assured. “But in order to help them do their job, we need to know as much as we can about who Tyler was.”

Across the bullpen, Hotch sat across from Mr. and Mrs. Williams. “Leon was a good boy. Football was his life. He loved being a part of this team. It was the season of a lifetime,” Mr. Williams said.

“We taught him better than to be drinking and carrying on,” Mrs. Williams added.

“Can you think of anything or anyone he might have mentioned recently that was out of the ordinary? Anything that was bothering him or causing him distress?” Hotch questioned.

“He was feeling pressure about the season, but he’s been handling that kind of thing since he was twelve years old.” Mr. Williams shared an almost indiscernible look with his wife. “He got into—into the same kinds of trouble any college kid gets in. Nothing that could have gotten him murdered.”

⧭⧭⧭

“Yeah, baby girl, what d’ya got for me?” Derek held the phone out so that Rossi could listen in as they waited in the OSU security office.

“Well, my handsome knight, I wish I could tell you more but so far, I’m coming up empty with similar cases,” Penelope sighed. “Nothing that matches our alcohol poisoning M.O. or the signature. I just expanded the search to surrounding states, and I’ll let you know if I find anything.”

“Anything on our two victims?” Rossi asked.

“Now that’s where it gets interesting,” Penelope mused, tapping the fluffy end of her pen into the palm of her hand. “There’s nothing. Zilch, nada.”

Rossi narrowed his eyes. “And that’s interesting because...?”

“Come on, sir,” Penelope scoffed. “Two young, athletic, good-looking college football stars and there’s nothing at all? Nothing scandalous on social media. No run-ins with campus PD. Not even a write up from an RA.”

Derek tilted his head in thought. “Hotch and JJ said their conversations with the parents told a similar story.”

“Okay, but no one is this squeaky clean, particularly not at a Big 12 college. Everyone has some dirt,” Penelope insisted. “I haven’t found it yet, but there’s gotta be something out there. When I have it, you’ll know it!”

“Thanks, Garcia,” Derek drawled.

“Over and out!” Penelope jabbed the button to end the call.

The OSU officer waved them over with his hand. “I’ve got it queued up to 6:24pm. You can see the boys here,” he pointed on the screen at the two victims, “entering the north entrance of the dining hall.”

Derek leaned toward the monitor. “So they leave practice, come through the dining hall for dinner. When do they leave?”

The footage sped up on the screen, then stopped. “Here. 7:01.”

“Rossi, you seeing this?” Derek slid his eyes over.

Rossi nodded. “Is there any way to enhance these frames?”

The officer shrugged his shoulders. “Not on this system. Honestly, the camera quality isn’t great. I’ve been trying to get them to invest in an upgraded OS, but you know—budget woes. Your analyst might be able to do more.”

“It’s not going to matter.” Derek sighed and straightened up. “She’s careful of her angles.”

“I couldn’t find them on any grounds cameras, but they pop back up entering the dorm. Here, at 7:12.”

“All three of them,” Rossi noted. He looked at Derek. “And like you said, she’s discreet.”

“They all go upstairs to the apartment,” the officer continued, “but only the girl leaves. At 8:43.”

⧭⧭⧭

“We have a witness from the cafeteria that confirms that the boys ate with a dark-haired young woman in a red coat,” Hotch said, arms crossed. “But other than those two details, the witness couldn’t recall anything else and said they’d never seen her before.”

“So we’ve got the two victims entering their apartment with an unknown woman. They’re upstairs for an hour and a half before she leaves,” Emily recounted.

Derek stood with his hands on his hips. “And in that time, she manages to dose and gain control of two boys that are more than double her size and funnel a lethal amount of alcohol into them. Now the question is why?”  

As the team converged around the conference room table, a uniformed officer entered into the doorway. “Agent Jareau? There’s a possible witness—says she might have some new information.”

JJ nodded to the team and moved to the doorway. A petite young woman stood in the center of the bullpen, wringing her hands. When her eyes landed on JJ, she let her arms fall to her side. As JJ approached, she motioned with her hand for the girl to sit at the closest desk. “Hi, I’m Jennifer. I heard you wanted to speak to someone about this case. Can I have your name?”

The girl nodded. “Um, I’m Cassie. I saw the announcement you made. About the woman in the red coat. I heard you say that she had brown hair. Is that true?”

JJ cocked her head slightly. “Yeah, the witness and security footage we have shows a woman with dark hair walking with Tyler and Leon. Why do you ask?”

Cassie’s eyes darted around the bullpen, and she drew her arms tightly over her chest. “I just— um—well, I—”

“Would it help if we moved somewhere a little quieter?” JJ suggested. When Cassie nodded and stood, JJ placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and directed her toward an empty interview room. Cassie sat in the chair farthest from the door, and JJ sat opposite her. “Is there something you wanted to tell me about the woman? Or is it something else that’s on your mind?”

Cassie let out a long breath. “When I heard that they were dead, I— I was relieved. That sounds awful, but it’s true.”

JJ tread lightly over her next question. “You felt relieved. Why was that?”

Cassie looked directly at JJ. “I’ve been looking over my shoulder everywhere I go for the last seven months. I won’t have to do that anymore.”

“Can you tell me more about what you mean?”

Cassie took a breath and closed her eyes for a long second, before opening them and continuing. “There was a huge party in the spring. I mean, there were, like, hundreds of people there.” Cassie’s eyes went wide. “I never go to parties like that. But it was the end of the year, and my friend—well, I went with my friend. She got invited.”

“Were Tyler and Leon at this party?” JJ asked.

“Everybody was. I mean, everybody who’s somebody at OSU was there. We saw them right away. The whole team was there, but people treated those two like kings.” Cassie looked down at her hands. “We were drinking... a lot. At some point, Laney and I got separated. I tried calling her phone a bunch of times, but the party was really loud. I—I didn’t want to leave without her, but I was getting really messed up. I had a guy friend from one of my classes walk me home.” She swiped at her eye with the back of her hand. “Laney didn’t get back until the morning. Her clothes were all torn up, her hair had... blood in it, and she—she had a bruise under her eye.” She looked up at JJ, eyes shining with tears. “They raped her. I left her behind, and they raped her,” she whispered.

JJ reached across the table for Cassie’s hand. “Cassie, I’m so sorry. What happened to Laney was not your fault, or hers. Do you understand me?” JJ paused before continuing. Cassie looked down. “Do you know if she reported it?”

Cassie nodded. “I’m the one who went with her to the infirmary. They did a kit and confirmed it. When we went to Campus PD, they did nothing. Said Laney was wasted, and there was no one that could back up her story.”

JJ squeezed her hand. “So there was no official report filed?”

Cassie laughed coldly. “Oh, they wrote a report. I think if we ask them to, they have to. But they wouldn’t name Tyler or Leon in it. Said they didn’t want to ‘give legs to any gossip.’”

JJ’s mouth stretched into a thin line. “Where’s Laney now?”

“I don’t know.” Cassie shook her head. “She didn’t come back to OSU this fall. I haven’t really talked to her since—” She looked at JJ. “I can’t get the image of her out of my head. How she looked when she came through the door that morning. What they did to her… I’m not sorry that they’re dead.” Her eyes were shining with rage. “People knew what happened… and no one did anything. And those two were still the kings of campus.”

⧭⧭⧭

The team absorbed the new information quietly. “So Garcia was right. They did have something to hide.” Derek’s phone buzzed. “Speaking of. Hey mama, you’re on speaker.”

“I hope you’re all sitting down,” Penelope warned. “I expanded the parameters of my original VICAP search to include the surrounding states. No hits on suspicious deaths by alcohol poisoning. However, the U LOSE signature? Seven hits across Texas, Arkansas, Missouri, and Kansas.”

“So our unsub’s been traveling across the South—” Emily started.

“Oh, I’m not done,” Penelope continued. “Just to double check, I expanded the search area to the continental US. Our unsub has been busy. Over 30 murders with this signature, all across the country, dating back to March 2007. All different M.O.s: gunshot, stabbing, strangulation, you name it. But all with U LOSE scrawled across their forehead in—get this—liquid eyeliner.”

“Anything tying the victims together, Garcia?” Hotch asked.

“All men, mostly white, but all across different ages, occupations, and marital statuses. At first glance, there’s no real connection,” Penelope answered.

“What about on second glance?” Hotch prompted.

“Way ahead of you, sir. I did a little digging.” Penelope shrugged. “Okay, a lot of digging—most of it legal. Every single one of these victims had at least one sexual assault allegation. Some are official police reports, some are HR complaints, some are sealed court records. But in every case, the victim’s cause of death is directly related to the details of the assault records. Women that were held at knifepoint, their attacker was stabbed to death. If they were choked, he was strangled. If they were held at gunpoint, he died of a gunshot wound. Et cetera, et cetera.” Penelope twirled her pen. “The differing M.O.s combined with the fact that the unsub kept crossing state lines kept local PDs and field offices from making the connection.”

“Garcia, can you search OSU PD records for an incident report?” JJ asked.

Garcia tapped rapidly across her keyboard. “Absolutely, sugar, when would it have been filed?”

“It would’ve been this year, sometime at the end of April or beginning of May,” JJ answered. “The victim would be named as Laney Collins.”

After a few moments, Garcia peered through her green cat-eye glasses at the report. “Mmm, I’ve got one incident report, filed on May 7th. And woof, this report is not much to go on. The responding officer wrote a whopping three sentences. According to him, Laney was incapacitated and thus was not a credible witness.” Garcia twirled her pen. “The alleged attackers, who are not named, denied Laney’s account of what happened. Because there were no other witnesses, Officer Thorough deemed that no further action was necessary.” She jabbed her pen in the direction of the screen. “And this, my friends, is why women don’t bother reporting.”

“Good work, Garcia,” said Hotch.

“There’s one more interesting detail from the report,” Garcia continued. “The dean of students signed off on it.”

“So Barrett knew about this the whole time,” Derek fumed.

“And again, people wonder why women don’t report,” Garcia repeated, ending the call.

“So our unsub is seeking justice for women she believes have been failed by the system. We’re looking for a vigilante, carrying out revenge killings,” Rossi concluded.

Derek nodded. “And she’s organized and efficient; she finished with Tyler and Leon in less than two hours.”

“She’s smart and she blends in, doesn’t draw too much attention to herself,” JJ added.

“She’s meticulous and has at least some knowledge of forensic countermeasures, considering there’s no physical evidence tying her to any of the scenes,” Spencer remarked.

“And she knew enough to keep her face off the security footage,” Emily finished.

“Rossi, Emily, and I will stay here and deliver the profile,” Hotch directed. “JJ, I’d like you to speak to the families again, see if they knew about the rape. Reid, Morgan, talk to Barrett and see what else he might be trying to keep quiet.”

⧭⧭⧭

“Makes you wonder just how many people knew what happened,” Derek considered, closing the car door.

“It’s estimated that twenty percent of student victims of sexual assault report it to their university, but less than one percent of assailants receive any type of disciplinary action,” Spencer cited, making his way toward the sidewalk.

Derek shook his head. “And so the victims don’t see the point in reporting it. Your attacker gets to walk around like nothing even happened. Cassie told JJ that she felt like she had a target on her back once they reported Laney’s assault.”

As they walked up the blacktop driveway to the entrance of Barrett’s home, Spencer slowed his steps as he noticed the front door. “Morgan.” He nodded at the door, slightly ajar.

Derek drew his gun and moved ahead of Spencer. He pushed the door slowly open and called out, “Mr. Barrett?” In the foyer were the remnants of a broken vase and a small trail of blood. “Call Hotch, let him know we’ve got trouble here.”

Derek and Spencer worked to quietly clear the rooms, one by one. Derek stopped at the bottom of the stairs and motioned to Spencer. As they started up the stairs, a woman’s voice called out, “Shut up! You had nothing to say before. So now, you’re just going to listen.”

Derek reached the top of the stairs and started down the hallway. He reached the open door where a woman stood, her back to the door. Behind her, Derek could see Barrett, sitting on the floor, blood dripping from a gash on his head. His hands were raised in front of his chest, palms facing out. Derek stopped, his gun trained on the woman, and murmured, “Laney?”

The woman pivoted her body, her short blonde hair whipping around. Derek saw tears in her eyes and a revolver in her hand. “Don’t,” she warned.

“Laney, my name is Derek. I don’t want to hurt you. I just want to talk. I need you to put the gun down.”

“No!” Laney screamed. “You don’t know what he’s done.” She shook the gun in Barrett’s direction, and Barrett closed his eyes.

Derek spoke softly. “I do, Laney. I do know. I know what happened to you. I know that he kept Tyler and Leon’s names off the report. I know that he didn’t help you when you needed it most. I know that he let them get away with--”

“Rape. He let them get away with rape. Because he cares more about reputation and football than what happens to women on his campus. They ruined my life.” Laney turned away from Derek and put both hands on the gun. “They ruined my life, and you did nothing. And then they walked around campus like they were invincible, because you taught them they were.”

Derek moved further into the room, into Laney’s eyesight. Spencer moved into the doorway, covering Derek. “Laney, look at me. I’m putting my gun away.” Derek held his hands up and then moved to holster his gun. “Doing this won’t make the pain go away.”

“How many others? How many other women did he do this to?” Laney let out a painful sob. “If I don’t stop him, it never ends.”

“Listen to me.” Derek took a step closer to her. “Killing him won’t change what happened, Laney. It won’t. Believe me. I know how you feel.”

“People love to say that when they’re trying to shut you up. How could you possibly know how I feel?” Laney spit out.

“Someone hurt me, just like they hurt you. And nobody was there to help me. No one was there to listen.” Laney froze, eyes shifting to meet Derek’s. “I wanted to hurt him, Laney. Wanted to make him feel the same pain I felt. I wanted him to suffer.” He moved another step closer. “I know that those men hurt you, and I know that he let them get away with it. And I am so, so sorry. But you’re stronger than anyone knows, Laney. You are the only person who has the power to help others who didn’t get justice. I have a friend who’s spent her whole life helping survivors, and I know she’d love to talk with you.” He took another step. “You are the only person who can stop it from happening to someone else. You can make sure he’s held accountable for what he’s done. But if you pull that trigger, you can never go back,” Derek warned.

Laney looked at Derek, his hand outstretched, wordlessly asking her to give him the gun. She looked at Barrett, crying and silently begging her to show him the mercy she never got. “I wish I’d been the one to kill them,” she whispered.

The gun dropped out of her hand as Derek stepped forward to catch her. He kicked the gun into the doorway, and Spencer recovered it. “I’ve got you,” Derek said, helping Laney out of the room. “Shh, it’s ok, I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

Spencer moved to lift Barrett off the ground and helped him into a chair by the window. Out of the corner of his eye, Spencer caught a flash of red below the window. He stumbled over Barrett, nose almost pressed to the glass as he stared out. The woman froze, eyes locked on Spencer’s. His mouth opened slightly as he stared at her, bewildered. By the time his brain caught up, she had already disappeared from view.

Spencer turned and raced down the stairs, clinging to the railing as he nearly missed a step. He burst out the front door into the driveway, sprinting around the side of the house. He heard Derek call his name, saw the other SUVs pulling up, but he kept running. He skidded to a stop at the edge of the backyard, and then spun in a full circle, eyes frantically scanning the perimeter.

Hotch approached from the side of the house, gun drawn. “Reid! Are you all right?”

Spencer took a last look, scanned from east to west. “Yeah, yeah. I just—I thought I saw—I thought I saw something.” He shook his head. “Barrett’s inside. He’s got a head laceration, but he’ll be fine.”

Hotch lowered his gun and nodded. “And Laney’s not our unsub. So we’re back to the beginning.”

⧭⧭⧭

“Strauss is asking us to head back to Quantico.” Hotch pocketed his phone and looked at the team. “We’ll move the cases to our watch list and flag the signature for hits in VICAP. From what we know about the unsub’s behavior, we know she’s no longer in the area.” He gestured to the evidence board. “Our best course of action is to keep the profile in our periphery for now. We can do that from the BAU. It’s late. Go to the hotel, get some rest. We’ll leave first thing in the morning.”

“I’m absolutely starving.” Emily slipped into her jacket and headed for the door. “Anybody want to hit up that 24 hour diner?”

Derek and JJ quickly agreed, following Emily from the conference room. JJ turned back, eyeing Spencer. “You coming, Spence?”

“I’m just really tired.” His voice lilted up, almost a question. “Next time, though.”

JJ gave him a look but didn’t press him. “Have a good night, Spence.”

“Yeah, thanks.” He gathered up the case files, not quite ready to put them away.

⧭⧭⧭

Spencer’s eyelids felt heavy as he walked through the lobby of the hotel. He really was tired. He blamed the exhaustion for what he thought he saw through the window at Barrett’s. His fatigued mind was seeing things that weren’t there. He practically floated into the elevator and up to his room. Sliding the room key through the slot, the door beeped open and Spencer stepped inside. He flicked on the light and dropped his bag on the floor, loosening his tie as he walked toward one of the sling back chairs sat by the window. He paused just before he reached the chair, his gaze lingering over something on the desk. A note hastily scrawled on hotel stationary.

623.

Spencer lifted the note with two careful fingers. “623?” He turned it over, looking for the rest of the message, but the paper was blank other than the number. He lowered the note, and his eyes landed on a small plastic card where the paper had rested on the table. Not just a card. A room key.

⧭⧭⧭

Spencer stared at the door of the room. Room 623. He turned his head and slowly looked up and then down the hallway. He took a breath and raised his hand to the door. He knocked in the familiar rhythm: five knocks, pause, two knocks. He pressed his ear close to the door, listening for any movement inside. When he heard nothing, he knocked again; the same pattern, but a little louder. He listened again. Nothing. Spencer felt a bead of sweat creep down the nape of his neck. He thought about turning around, about walking back down the two flights of stairs to his room and getting into bed.

Instead, he pulled the keycard from his pocket. As he lifted the card with one hand, he used his other to raise the strap on his holster. He held his breath as he swiped the card through the slot and heard the beep of the lock. Drawing his gun from the holster, Spencer slowly turned the handle of the door.

The room was mostly dark. Only the yellow glow of one of the bedside lamps illuminated the space. Spencer stepped into the room and quietly closed the door behind him. Again, his mind said to turn around. Yet his feet carried him further into the room. He could see now that the sling backs were facing toward the window. There were two glasses from the mini bar on the table between them.

“I wasn’t sure you’d come,” a familiar voice mused.

Spencer startled and then swallowed audibly, a cartoon character realizing he’s in serious trouble. He opened his mouth but nothing came out.

“You can put the gun away,” she continued. “Really. Come sit down, Reid.”

Hearing her say his name sucked all the air out of his lungs. He closed the remaining distance between them, staring dumbly at her perched in the armchair. She gave him a small smile, warm despite the nervous energy in the air. “Hey, Reid.”

“Elle.” Spencer sunk into the chair across from her. “I—I thought I was seeing things. Earlier. At Barrett’s.”

She studied him quietly. “This hair is a good look for you.”

“Thanks,” Spencer blushed, smoothing down the hair at the nape of his neck. He quickly dropped his hand. “It was you then.”

“What was me?” Elle asked innocuously.

“You were at Steven Barrett’s house today. In the yard.” Spencer folded his hands to keep from wringing them. “You were wearing a red coat.”

Elle lifted one of the glasses to her lips, taking a sip of the clear liquor, ice cubes rattling. She swallowed and gestured to the other glass. “Have a drink.”

“I, um, I don’t drink anymore.” Elle raised an eyebrow. “A lot has happened since… the last time I saw you.” Spencer smoothed his hands down the tops of his thighs. “You were there today. Elle, did you—are you…” He wasn’t even sure what question to ask.

Elle ran her fingertip around the rim of her glass. She was quiet for a long time. Spencer fidgeted in his seat, but stayed quiet, waiting. Elle set the glass down.

“Do you remember that night in Dayton? In the hotel room?” Spencer looked at her pointedly. Elle let out a laugh. “Sorry, I forgot who I’m talking to; of course you remember.” Their eyes met. Spencer felt she was looking right through him. “You told me that I’d won. That because Garner was dead, and I was alive, I won.”

“Elle—” Spencer started.

“You asked, Reid. This is my answer.” She screwed the cap off the bottle of gin. Pouring the remainder of the bottle into her glass, she continued, “It took time, but I started to feel safe in my own home again. I could close my eyes without seeing his face. I could take a shower without bringing my gun.” She downed the rest of her glass. “When I killed Lee, I gave that same freedom back to the women he’d raped. They could exist in the world knowing that he would never hurt them, ever again.” She smiled ruefully. “And it felt… good. It felt right. And after years of having watched people be destroyed by monsters… I don’t know. It was just something I had to do. To bring that freedom and that safety back to other women who had been hurt and broken and alone. To destroy their monsters.” Elle looked at him then, eyes shining with unshed tears. “I don’t expect you to understand or approve. But the answer to your question is yes.”

Spencer took a breath and asked, “Why’d you put the key in my room? You could have just… disappeared.”

Elle shook her head. “I chose this. I knew what I was doing and what it would mean. Most of the time, I’m fine, great even. Because being able to give these women justice is the greatest gift. But with this work, you can’t really keep anybody close. No holidays or birthdays. No dates or girls nights.” She shrugged. “I guess I just wanted to see what would happen. What the boy genius would do.”

“I don’t know what to do,” Spencer admitted.

“Well, that’s a first.” Elle smiled, but Spencer could see apprehension in the rigidness of her shoulders, in the slight bouncing of her leg.

“I should probably arrest you,” he considered.

Her leg stopped. “You probably should.”

Spencer looked down at his hands. He ran his fingers up to the crook of his elbow, ghosting over the scars there. His mind raced from memory to memory: Elle on the train car; Tobias Hankle standing over him; Elle in the hospital bed; the needle in his arm; Elle in the hotel in Dayton; the click of an empty chamber.

“Elle, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for telling you that you’d won.” She was motionless, staring at him. He continued, “I didn’t know. I didn’t know what it was like. To be consumed and overcome by a memory.” Now it was Spencer’s eyes that shone with tears. “I didn’t know that the trauma could… fester in your brain like an infection that you can’t get rid of. I don’t know if winning is even possible after something like that.” He rubbed his hand under his eye and cleared his throat. “It was an awful thing to say. And I’m sorry.”

Elle tipped her head back, trying to keep the tears from spilling over. “All’s forgiven.”

Spencer reached out and gently grabbed Elle’s hand. “I’ve been so tired recently. I thought I saw something through the window at Steven Barrett’s house. But when I did a perimeter check, I didn’t find anything.” Elle dropped her head back down and turned to look at him. “We’re headed back to Quantico in the morning. We’ll, um, be keeping tabs on VICAP hits on the signature.” Spencer gave her hand one soft squeeze before standing. He let a small, bittersweet smile move over his face.

He made it to the door before he heard her voice again.

“If I asked you to stay, would you say yes?”

Spencer swiveled back to look at her, the door just barely open. Elle’s arms were crossed over her chest. Her eyes were dark and wide and full of storms. “Just for a little while longer?”

Spencer turned and moved his eyes up the length of the doorway, considering. He heard Elle let out a breath. His own breath stuttered. He closed the door softly. He put his hands in his pockets and turned back to her. “I’ve got a little while.”

[seokjxnnie]

hi i see that you've been to a couple bts concerts! can you describe what it was like seeing them irl? and what the process was like the day of? thank you so much ^0^

hi love! thx so much for ur patience, sorry i wasn’t on all day yesterday to answer u! i’m going to walk u thru everything i can remember about each concert, so i’m putting it under a break bc it gets long!

bts love yourself in LA 2018: A  M E S S! this was my first bts concert and also my first big concert outside of my own city (vancouver) so idk if staples centre was just incredibly disorganized or if this was the normal concert experience LOL and sorry if i come off as judgy but ngl it was was a very unpleasant up to the point of the actual show bc a lot of the fans (plus their parents??!!!) were so hostile LMAO

my friend and i had GA floor tickets. a lot of ppl who had GA camped outside the venue for days straight leading up to the concert, and even tho the venue said they didn’t allow camping and wouldn’t hold the campers’ place in line, they went back on their word and did anyway (which in retrospect i don’t blame them bc i think the campers would’ve started an all out war if the venue actually followed thru on that rule). so early morning on the day of (7-8am) the venue staff numbered the campers’ hands with sharpies so that it would count as their position in line, but when everyone lined up to get their wristbands for GA, not everyone in that lineup had camped so a lot (not all) of the campers got rly aggressive and wanted to check everyone’s hands. if they found someone without a number they’d bully that person to leave the lineup and go to the end. a lot of those aggressors were like young teenagers and their parents either came to keep them company as they lined up or they were attending the concerts themselves, and some of those parents would assist their child in harassing other ppl and then played victim when the news crew came around which was w i l d to me. but i think that behaviour was eventually curbed bc a lot of other ppl in line like spoke back and stood up against their hostility. oh also! while in this lineup, several black range rovers in a row drove past us and into the venue, so we were pretty sure the boys were in those cars.

anyway, that lineup was to get into a section of venue to get official wristbands that would hold ur position in line for GA later at the concert. this took a few hours. but at the same time (a little later in the morning ~10-11am) the lineup for merch opened up elsewhere a the venue and if i remember correctly, things sold out rly quick. i luckily had other friends attending the concert, but they had seated tickets so didn’t have to line up for GA wristbands like me, so they were able to line up and get merch for us. once GA ppl got their wristbands, we were free to go and were to return to the venue 1-2 hrs before the concert start, unless u won soundcheck then you’d be let in sometime in the afternoon to see the boys. u were also able to stick around and line up for the photobooth but we were exhausted from everything so we left.

it was a pleasant experience after that. we went home and took a nap and hydrated and got ready for the concert LOL in the evening when GA ppl came back to line up for the show, our wristbands were numbered as our position in line so we ordered ourselves with the help of the staff and waited in line outside the venue for a couple hrs. we weren’t allowed to bring in anything more than a small bag. everyone around us was nice, a lot of ppl were handing out free merch that they made! then we were let in one at a time with a security check at the door, and after that we’d rush into the arena to secure a good view. i was around #~250 and still i stood like 2nd row from the extended stage. it was an amazing view when the boys were on the extended stage, bc they were a couple arms length away and we were in the splash zone when yoongi tossed his water bottle around during tear. i also remember jimin being super interactive and flirty with the fans around the extended stage too. but i will say it’s impossible to see anything when they’re on the mainstage (esp when ur short like me), so i was watching them from the screens a lot. i think joon took someone’s phone and recorded himself on with it too! again, everyone around us were super nice and caring, telling ppl not to push each other and comforting each other as we sobbed throughout. a tall girl standing in front of me asked me if i could see and would try to tilt her shoulders in a way that open up my view which was v sweet but i told her dw just enjoy urself!

ofc the boys were amazing - as amazing as u would expect and them some! they sounded so amazing live that i literally had to ask myself several times during the concert if they were lipsyncing. they were incredibly fun, great onstage energy, and very interactive! sososo much prettier in real life too.

bts speak yourself in chicago 2019: this was undeniably a greater experience all around. this was the stadium tour, so floor seats were seated and numbered, which eliminated the whole terrible camping/lining up experience and everyone just had to come a little early to seat themselves before the show. also, merch sales were offered for 3 days: the day prior to day1 of the concert, day1 before the concert, and day2 before the concert. from my knowledge they didn’t sell out either so all around it felt way more organized, which might’ve just been bc the capacity was going to be 3x greater (soldier field was ~60k and staples centre was ~20k) and they were prepared for that. there was also a photobooth but i think it was only open to certain ppl that won a ticket or smth idr :///

my friend and i didn’t get floor seats this time bc not only did they almost all sold out immediately, but we kind of wanted a view of everything unlike in LA. in LA even tho bts was right there when they were on the extended stage, we couldn’t see anything when they were on the mainstage. so this time we sat in the seated section near like the cat walk and ~10 rows up, and bc the stadium was so huuuge bts was still pretty small but at least i could see all their performances no matter which stage they were on. so, we got merch the day before which was an easy breezy and much quicker process, and got into the stadium ~1 hr before the concert. u were also only allowed to bring in a small transparent bag, but i just brought my phone, a credit card, and an ID in my pockets. also! before the concert, we saw who we thought was txt standing at the very top balcony of the stadium, which we later confirmed in a bangtan bomb/episode!

bc it was an open stadium and chicago had cooler weather around that time which was even chillier at night IT WAS SO COLD. it had been raining all day but thankfully it stopped before the concert started and the stage was cleared so the boys wouldn’t slip (and thank god bc i was so worried about that). joon even said smth along the lines of “hey guys it’s meant to be, it was raining all day until we got together 🥰” and i hmmmmmmmmmmmm :’(((((((( but during their performances i didn’t even notice the cold (even tho my hands and feet no longer felt attached to my body) bc they were so amazing and i was crying too hard!!!

i have to say even tho they had already set a pretty high bar for the energy i expected from them, they even exceeded it this time round. i think they were super excited and proud to do their first stadium tour :’) they had learned a lot of english to share with us during their introductions, between their songs, and in their goodbyes. their production was crazy as you might’ve seen in fancams: an all out set for dionysus, huge bouncy castles for anpanman, and jungkook was on a fucking zipline for euphoria LOL

it was an amazing unparalleled experience and i hope u get to experience it too some day anon! i hoped that helped and sorry it was so long and i probs told u way more than what u were looking for LMAO but lmk if u have any other questions i can answer!! ty!!!!