#madness galore and some such

[nemo-of-house-hamartia]

Because it doesn't matter the fandom.

It doesn't matter who the blorbo I am obsessing over is.

"GIMME!GIMME!GIMME!" OF ABBA WILL *ALWAYS* BE PRESENT WHILE I AM CREATING.

Especially now that I am imagining tavern scenes for Gale and Aranea and all the shenanigan with Astarion and Azriel and Karlech and Wyll.

Now, if you will excuse me.

🎶🎵GIMME GIMME GIMME THAT WIZARD AFTER MIDNIGHT.🎵🎶

[bellasdragons]

NPC Descriptions

Here are the descriptions I could find for the Trading Post and Grand Exchange dragons (and Sage).

While the Grand Exchange ones have descriptions (will update with Sage's other seasons too as they come up) I couldn't most of our main crew - if you can find them please let me know and I'll add them (with credit of course!)

Under a cut because of length:

SUSIE "An image of Susie, a female Coatl dragon. Susie sits among a garden of hearts and flowers. She crochets a string of hearts in her wheelchair, using the thread lovebirds have brought to her. As a Coatl dragon, Susie has a short snout, curled tail, and a feathered crest and wings that connect to her body alongside some swirled bony plates. Susie has a leopard ice primary and pinkish wings that end in short stripes. She wears enormous spectacles, a red heart bowtie, and a purple coat and skirt with many white petticoats. "

PATCHES "An image of Patches, a male Pearlcatcher dragon. Patches holds up his pearl using a prosthetic arm and is surrounded by a treasure chest, parrot, cannon, and ship’s wheel. As a Pearlcatcher dragon, Patches has two horns down the center of his forehead, a mane that runs down the length of his back, and long ears. Patches colors most closely resemble a maroon speckle and garnet freckle. He wears a mix of a corsair’s hat and a privateer’s jacket, both of which are mended and have seen better days. "

JOXAR "An image of Joxar, a male Mirror dragon. He tosses a prismatic token into the air, and sits in front of crates of goods. As a Mirror dragon, Joxar has two pairs of eyes and a twin crests/horns that flare out to either side. Joxar has a sky primary and brick secondary, and does not sport any gene patterns. Joxar wears a floppy festive crown, a scarf, a short vest, and a jester’s adornments on his legs and tail. "

ARVELLE "An image of Arvelle, a female Ridgeback dragon. Arvell is holding a twin-headed spiked flair and standing atop a mound of broken weapons. As a Ridgeback dragon Arvelle has a protruding nose and chin, long curved thumb claws, and spikes running down her back. Arvelle has an off-white body color with a greyish pink belly. Her claw tips are crimson and her wings are a reddish brick color. She wears a set of well-used armor. The armor’s most notable piece is the helmet, which sports a large crimson plume of hair and fiber that trails down her neck. Arvelle is well-muscled and scarred. "

HIGGENS "An image of Higgins, a male Nocturne dragon. Higgens has a dry expression on his face, stands upright and holds up a platter of mimic powder. Behind him is a haunted looking Victorian building, and next to him stands a chest that opens to reveal teeth and a tongue. As a Nocturne dragon, Higgens has a bat-like nose, a chin frill, and an array of short spikes that run down his neck. Higgens has a charcoal primary and blackberry secondary, and does not sport any gene patterns. "

MARVA An image of Marva, presumed to be an Imperial dragon. "Presumed", because there is no dragon stationed at this shop at all! Instead, a whimsically-painted cardboard cutout of an imperial dragon stands among cardboard cutouts of April Fool's day familiars. Many of the cutouts display visible tape holding them together, and some paint appears to have been spattered. The largest cutout of the Imperial dragon is of a dark purple imperial with light purple wings. It holds a star wand and wears a star cape and top hat, and has a big smile on its face that nearly splits its head in two.

AVERY "An image of Avery, a male Wildclaw, looking anxious in an office overflowing with paperwork, medals, and trophies. From behind the cluttered desk peeks a Skycat with long ears and wings. As a Wildclaw dragon Avery has three pairs of horns around his face, a feathered crest, and stands upright on a pair of legs sporting hooked claws. Avery has an algae jaguar primary and a peridot blend secondary. He is wearing a scroll case sling, a pair of spectacles, and a bowtie. "

GLASS & GLOSS "An image of Glass and Gloss, a nonbinary Aberration dragon. They smile viciously and hold open their tattered cape, displaying an array of gene scrolls. Behind them, vases an boxes are overflowing with similar inventory. As an Aberration dragon, they have two heads with rounded and swept back horns, twin tails, and tattered wings. They have a flaxen swirl primary, goldenrod weaver secondary, and soil fangs tertiary. "

SAGE (SUMMER) "An image of Sage, a female dryad. Sage reclines against her tree her hand raised to tease and grow the dandelions. Behind her the land shows the gold colors of summer. As a dryad, Sage resembles a human with leaves and bark growing from her hair and body. In the summer, Sage has deep brown skin with gold undertones, a golden crown of leaves, and a white and green leafy dress. "

GALORE "Image of Galore, an adult male Guardian dragon with speckle spruce primary and chocolate blend secondary genes. Galore is perched upon a pile of coins, gems, a chest, and other treasures. He is wearing an ornate, yet aged, cloak and beard tie. A large wooden staff with a loose leather strap grip is leaning against Galore’s side. The apparel Galore wears and his staff are unique to his character and are not standard "

[randompasserbyer]

It's fucking bullshit that you guys locked the Wind ancient behind a premium currency paywall. Wind is one of the BIGGEST FLIGHTS and you made such a big talk of how inclusive you were being in your research! You said you weren't going to turn a dragon based off of Eastern culture into a cash grab! It is absolute bull fucking shit that this dragon didn't get even a single free breed change scroll or egg. Even one! Bullshit. What a scam of an ancient breed.

Cirrus dragons join the clans of Sornieth!

[hxney-lemcn]

Mine, Only Mine — Mr. Crawling, Gap, Silvair, Chopped, Hugeface, and Scarletella x gn! reader

summery: how jealous do some of the Homicipher boys get?

tw: unhealthy relationships (Mr. Hugeface & Scarletella)

wc: 1.2k

Master List

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Mr. Crawling

❥I know people have written about how he gets jealous…but I don’t really think he does? Or at least not terribly. The scene with Mr. Chopped and the cat ears show that Mr. Crawling won’t pout or get sad at you showing affection to others, just that he wants to gain the same attention (the ear scene…). So jealousy with Mr. Crawling isn’t too bad, just be prepared to shower him with more affection than the person you originally did. 

❥On the other hand, I do think his jealousy may increase if you ignore him. Say you give more attention to Mr. Scarletella, Mr. Crawling would get a bit sad and pouty, thinking you don’t like him anymore. If this happens, give him lots and lots of attention and reassurance, he’ll be super grateful. I mean he loves your affection anyways, so might as well give him some extra headpats and kisses. Even better if you only show certain signs of affection with him, it makes him feel special. 

❥Overall, not the most jealous, but not completely unaffected either. Make sure he gets his daily dose of attention/quality time and he’ll be as right as rain.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Mr. Gap

❥Uh, he gets more jealous than you’d think. Like…his whole thing is he wants to be special to you…in his own strange way. Doesn’t like the thought of someone taking his place as a jokester to you. Also why he brings you things he’d think you like from time to time, just to make sure you still have that special place in your heart for him <3

❥Hates hate hates when you call him bad or not good. He’s good! He swears! Remember how he’s helped you before! Gets all frowny when you call him not good and then call someone else good. He’s good too! Guess he has to prove it, AGAIN. It’s honestly kind of endearing how he has no clue how he actually kind of does like you? But not exactly in a romantic way? It’s honestly hard to label his feelings towards you, so why should I?

❥I’d say he’s the second most jealous in this list of characters, watching on angrily as you praise someone that isn’t him. Be prepared for magazines and books galore when he’s in this mood, trying to prove his worth to you. Kind of strange for someone to try so hard when they claim to not like you…

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Mr. Silvair

❥Definitely the chillest one here. Doesn’t really get jealous at all :/ If anything, he finds it entertaining when you’re affectionate with others. Gives him more insight to his lab rats. Yes, he sees everyone as a lab rat. Idk, I can’t really see him get jealous.

❥Maybe…MAYBE if someone else tries doing research on you, or if Ms. Nurse treats you instead he’ll feel a bit off. Like…you’re his test subject, he knows you from the inside out…literally and not in the fun sense. Why would you go to someone who doesn’t know as much about you and how this world affects you? It’s very hard to spot his jealousy, doesn’t even notice it/recognize it himself. He just doesn’t want anyone to mess up his data…that’s all…totally.

❥In conclusion, not really jealous. Doesn’t feel like he needs to be. You’re ‘friends’, doctor and patient, mad scientist and lab rat not many others threaten that balance between you. 

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Mr. Chopped

❥Honestly…Mr. Chopped I’m kinda mixed on how he’d be. Like on one hand, I could totally see him getting jealous if you call others cute or pay too much attention to them. On the other…he could probably care less. He loves himself, you love him, why does he need to get jealous? It’s clear how much you like him with the way you pamper him. I mean we get so many examples where you’re affectionate to Mr. Crawling in front of Mr. Chopped and he doesn’t really bat an eye. 

❥Now, I can see if he gets a bit insecure he might get more jealous. Whether it be because Mr. Crawling pats your head or tucks you into bed, Mr. Chopped feels a bit sad. He’d like to tuck you in, you look so comfy. Might be just a bit pouty, eyeing you like a dissatisfied cat. Easily rectified with head pats or even cuddles. Gets side tracked from his jealousy as soon as you give him a sliver of attention honestly.

❥Mr. Chopped is fifty fifty when it comes to jealousy, but it’s never too bad. He’s pretty comfortable with what you both have and doesn’t really feel threatened by others. After all, you did call him cute.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Mr. Hugeface

❥I wouldn’t say he gets jealous? More possessive than anything. Like that scene when Mr. Machete stumbles into his little makeshift dollhouse that he made for you and gets all angry that he’s there. It’s more of a ‘you’re not supposed to be here, this is our playtime’ more than actual jealousy. Throws a little fit whenever someone messes up your playtime. Very accusatory lmao.

❥Does not like when you try to escape. Was he not providing enough for you? Were you unhappy? You’re not allowed to leave! You’re his cute human! He can’t just find another one y’know. Mr. Hugeface may be lenient if he sees you happier, you need enrichment after all. Feels extra happy if you come back on your own violation. 

❥The most childish out of all the characters on this list. Isn’t afraid to throw tantrums, will also punish you by putting you in a solid concrete cube if he’s really upset. Yeah…not the most healthy of relationships to have…BUT! I do think you could convince him to be a bit better…? Maybe? Only if you put enough work in communicating with him though. Maybe punish him in your own way like leaving for longer if he threatens to trap you.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Mr. Scarletella

❥Uhhhhhhhhhhh. Top of the list when it comes to jealousy. Watches your every move with curiosity and spite. Why are you doing that to Mr. Crawling? Do it to him instead. Why do you look so happy braiding Mr. Chopped’s hair? Style his hair instead. Why are you looking so fondly amused at Mr. Gap? Don’t you find him amusing? You do like him, right? He likes you. He likes you a lot, and he thought he was enough…was he not?

❥Will stare through your skull. It is so intimidating. His smile? Strained, it makes your skin crawl. You have to make sure he doesn’t hurt your friends, he��s so close to snapping, but he knows that would upset you and that’s not his goal. So instead he stands ominously in the background, body staticing in and out while his hand clenches the handle of his umbrella. 

❥Not that easily mended. Likes to monopolize all your time and affection. Needs constant reassurance as well, he’s quite needy. If you like constant validation and no social life go for it, just don’t get too upset if he threatens your other monster friends…he can’t stand that you could like someone that wasn’t him.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

When you thought you found a big brick castle house for cheap, but it turns out to be so much more. This 1895 home in Bedford, Pennsylvania has 5bds, 1.5ba (it says that, but there're actually toilets galore & potential bedrooms) for just $274,900 and a sale is pending.

Living room has a corner fireplace, and an unfortunate suspended ceiling & neon lighting that should come down.

Lovely room with a corner fireplace and a big window seat.

Kitchen's so weird they only show a corner of it.

What in the world happened in the pantry?

There must've been offices in here.

Tiny room, but the floor is new.

Going up to look at the bedrooms and bath.

Not bad.

One of the bedrooms. Wonder what's under the indoor/outdoor carpet and new drop ceilings.

Looks like this basement room is being redone.

Large laundry room.

Well, look here, a rather large jail, too? This home just keeps on giving.

This is nice.

Are those clothes on the shelf?

I said there were toilets galore.

Looks like someone dismantled some of the cells.

Some cells have cool original artwork.

I'm going to say that this is a crematory oven. In the door.

And, out the chute?

There's mad parking back here. If someone has the money to fix it up, it could be incredible.

[jarofstyles]

Appetency

Okay so we've got a bit of a long one. Kinda enemies to lovers if you blink, fuckboyrry turned softrry, dedication galore, hesitant Y/N and confident H, you're gonna love it. This is the first half- the other half is already up on Patreon and will be here later on 💕

Check out our Patreon for early access to the second half and 200+ exclusive writings

Warnings- slight angst, mentions of anxiety, alcohol, cocky h turned into a loverboy... nothing too crazy in this part.

WC- 8.5k

“Why are you every-fucking-where.” Y/N stopped short, glaring at the man across from her. The entire party, she had been trying to avoid him- but he wasn’t letting that be at all possible.

Harry grinned widely at that, the most obnoxious and infuriatingly pretty smile with those stupid dimples. Leaning against the wall as he studied her for a good moment, there was no hiding the not so casual enjoyment he got out of flustering her. 

Finally, he broke the silence, standing up from his casually cool stance on the wall. She knew he was going to say something that annoyed her and it was proven as he opened his mouth. "C’mon, don’t be like that. Perhaps you just can't keep me off your mind, baby girl. Can’t stop thinking about me, seeing me everywhere…"

“Ew. Do not call me that.” She wrinkled her nose in disgust for the nickname, walking past him. He followed, of course, because he always did. “Just because we have a few similar friends doesn’t mean you need to be at every social event. I’d love a break from your smug face.”

"You can't possibly be getting tired of this handsome face already…" He protested as he followed behind, his words purposely trying to rile her up. Getting a rise out of her seemed to make his whole day, and usually she would laugh it off but this time… things were different. Finding a spot in the kitchen, he watched as she puttered around trying not to look at him. 

His eyes danced with amusement as he added in some more. "Or are you just mad that I always seem to steal the show, love? Not my fault that I'm effortlessly charming and captivating, darling."

“Humble, too.” She snorted, grabbing a drink from the cooler. Buzzballs were not the thing she’d want to choose when she was thinking about the next morning, but they were exactly what she needed when it came to trying to mentally escape right now. “You’re insufferable. Really.” His eyes were on her as she used her nail to pop open the cap. 

“So are you going to leave me alone, or follow me around all night?”

Harry chuckled in amusement at her sarcasm, enjoying the way she rolled your eyes at him. "Leave you alone when you look this lovely? Not a chance in hell, darling." He hummed, tapping his own bottle against the counter. He paid no mind to the new people who entered the space, eyes glued on the girl he was talking to. "But as much as I'd love to keep annoying you, I have a much better way we could spend time. Don't you remember, love?" He purred. “I certainly do. It’s hard to forget the way it feels when you moan-” The interruption was instant, her hand gripping onto him. 

“Harry…” she hissed, tugging his arm further down the dark hallway and into a bedroom. Who’s? She didn’t know. All she knew was that she had seen where this was going, and she didn’t want him to say it too loudly. Everyone was so god damn nosy and respectfully, she didn’t want to deal with any of that. Not after all she had said.

“Listen.” Putting her hands on her hips, she tilted her head up at him as he stood a little too close. “We hooked up, it was a mistake. You know it.” Though it didn’t seem like he thought so considering how he trailed her ever since. “We… we were a little drunk and I was lonely and you were there.” 

Y/N knew she was slightly lying, but she was trying to fool herself. If she said it enough times, maybe she’d believe it. They’d always had chemistry. It was intensity that burned between them, her disdain and his addiction to getting a rise out of her. It was only a matter of time that they’d give into some sort of blow out- but she hadn’t expected it to be as good as it was. It couldn’t happen again. 

Harry had that knowing smirk on his face as she tried to deny it all, knowing exactly where this was headed. The thrill of chasing her, of getting under her skin was intoxicating, addicting. He loved making her growl and huff and glare at him, because it meant getting her undivided attention.

"Was it really a mistake?" He asked as he leaned against the door, finally giving her some breathing room.  "Or have you just been avoiding me because you couldn't stop thinking about it?"

The truth was that he had been thinking about that night ever since. Multiple times. Before he went to sleep, when he was in the shower.. It was hard not to. 

Her jaw clenched, placing her bottle down and crossing her arms. “Look. You’re hot, Harry. You don’t need me to tell you that. You’ve got plenty big of an ego. But I’ve been avoiding you because it can not happen again.” 

Y/N knew that Nina was into Harry and she really didn’t want to start any drama. Not that he even seemed remotely into her, but because she acted like he was someone she had dibs on. As gross as it was, she tended to start shit with anyone Harry pursued and she just wasn’t in the season for drama. There were other things to worry about other than start a feud over a man. 

He had known about Nina's crush on him, but he didn't care about her. He never had, and he never would. As fucked up as it was, what they had, in his mind, was just a harmless flirtation, nothing more. Y/N knew that, but Nina didn’t. He couldn't have been more clear he had no interest in her, but some people took delusion to heart. 

It didn’t matter how good Harry gave it to her last time, how hard her legs shook, how sore she was in the best way. Didn’t matter if his tongue was hot and through and how he’d cleaned her up with it. It couldn’t be repeated.

Harry's smirk only widened as she openly admitted he was attractive, his ego inflating even more. But when she mentioned avoiding him, his smile faltered slightly.

"Why can't it happen again?" He asked, moving closer to her, his eyes darkened. Too close, making her take a deep breath. If there was one thing he would give him, his presence was commanding. Felt. Her body was very familiar with his now, wanting to lean into him, but she fought it.

“Because.” She sighed tiredly. “I really can’t deal with any drama. I’m exhausted, and the last thing I need is that she-devil going after me because she thinks I’m ‘stealing her man.’ “

The man let out a laugh, amused by the comment. Yeah, he knew exactly who she was referring to and found it funny. He knew she could be a drama queen, and he definitely didn't care for her possessive tendencies, but he had told her that they had nothing going on between them and never would.

He stepped closer to her, his greedy hands reaching out to touch her hips, his touch firm. "You're not stealing me, love. She never had me, and she's delusional if she thinks she does." His eyes gleamed with desire as he looked at her, his touch becoming a bit more possessive in his own way. "And I want you, not her."

“Harry, you don’t actually want me.” She groaned in frustration, trying to ignore how her tummy dropped as he pulled her into him, his other hand curling around her jaw. Stupid body, stupid hormones, stupid muscle memory.  “You think you do because you like a chase. You don’t actually like me or anything, you like how I fuck.” She said bluntly, glancing up at him.

Harry's smug expression faltered as she protested. He could feel the annoyance, but he also noticed the way her body responded to his touch. There was no denying that. "Is that what you really think?" He asked, his grip on her jaw tightening slightly as he looked down at her. "That I'm just chasing you only for the thrill of the chase, for the sex?"

His eyes darkened, his other hand moving lower on her hip, pulling her flush against him. He could feel her body against his, the softness, the warmth, and he wanted it all back. There had been no way she could tell him that she hadn’t enjoyed it, considering he’d made her cum 3 times, made her gush all over his cock. She’d clung to him, held onto him, whimpered his name. But he’d taken care of her, he had gotten her some pomegranate juice and a snack, helped her tie her hair up, driven her home. When the contact had been nonexistent, he was hoping she was just making him work for it- but that wasn’t all this was to him.

“Yeah.” She furrowed her brows. “Is it not?” Harry wasn’t the relationship type, not usually. Everyone knew that. Y/N had constantly reminded herself that when they’d first met and she had a bit of a crush on him, only to see that he liked to fuck em’ and leave ‘em. It lost the appeal and she had resented him a bit for it. 

Was it fair? No. She knew that. But their dynamic had been built on that resentment. 

Harry's jaw clenched at her response, frustration and something else flickering in his face. He loosened his grip on her slightly, his gaze searching her eyes, trying to convey something she obviously wasn’t picking up on.

"And what if I told you that you were wrong?" He asked, his voice low. "What if I told you that there's more to me than just chase and sex?" He tilted his face closer to hers, his hand on her hip keeping her snug. He hadn't realized it himself just how touch deprived for her he actually was. Did she really think it was all just… a game? Had he not proven himself to her that night? Granted, he had maybe fucked up in how he communicated after but… the ball had been put in her court. 

He could tell that she was skeptical, but he was determined to make her believe him.

"I want you." He said firmly, his hand on her jaw moving to wrap around the back of her neck, his fingers tangling in her hair. "I want everything. Your body, your mind, your heart." His hand on her hip moved lower, his touch a little needy. "And the fact that I can't have you is driving me insane. Want you to believe me."

“But why?” She sputtered. “All we do is argue. All I do is blow you off and all you do is follow me around to piss me off.” 

She had no idea he had his own fascination with her. How he’d silently watched her, observed, saw how she was with other people and wanted that chance to feel that. To have one of those smiles for himself.

Harry shook his head with a light laugh, his grip on her flexing slightly as he stared down at the girl he had been playing cat and mouse with. "Because I'll take the arguing, the blowoffs, all of it, just to be near you. I don't know when it truly started, but you've gotten under my skin, love." He pushed her back against the door, his body pressed against hers, trapping the girl. Looking down at her, his eyes were dark with desire, with honesty. It was a little unsettling.

“Harry.” She swallowed, eyes fluttering as his fingers stroked over her jaw and down over her throat, tenderness tinging the touches. “It’s not funny if this is a joke. It’s not.”

Harry's let out a tired breath, his touch gentle as he stroked her delicate skin, taking advantage of every touch. He could see that vulnerability in her eyes, and it only made him more determined to prove himself. "M’not joking. " He said firmly. "This is serious, I want you, and m’not giving up until I have you."

“Then you’re gonna have to work for it.” She exhaled sharply, pushing out of his hold and escaping back towards the party.

Y/N was almost fooled into giving in again- but she could give in without a real, true idea of what he was dedicated to. Maybe it was cruel of her to try and write him off as a bit of a slut trying his luck, but she’d never been awarded the chance to get to know him outside of their usual dynamic. 

That was why, the next day, seeing him on her front porch had her gasping in surprise. “Shit!” She yelped, keys falling to the wood below her. 

He looked good. The night of sleep seemed to refresh him, he’d showered, and he was bright eyed this morning. Determined. Why? She didn’t know. But this was not at all what she had expected when opening her front door. “ You scared the fuck out of me. What are you doing here?”

"Good morning, love." He greeted her. “Nice to see you this mornin’. You look gorgeous.” That cheeky fucking grin, as usual, tilted on his mouth. 

She crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow in question. "You didn't answer my question. What are you doing here?"

Harry flashed her a grin, completely unfazed by her skepticism.  "I'm here to see you, of course." He said, as if it was obvious. “Silly thing.”

“Why?” She didn’t want to get too huffy with him but he was nearly speaking in riddles and she didn’t have the patience for that. “Are you alright?”

Of course he was amused at how frustrated she looked, finding her impatience obviously endearing. Maybe it was just her, though. Y/N was a bit of a weakness of his, he found. Pushing himself up the final step, he grabbed her keys and handed them back to her, making no effort to pull his hands away from her own. 

"I'm fine, love." He hummed casually. "I just wanted to see you." Holding her hands in his, his thumbs rubbing soft circles on the skin. Casual intimacy that slightly caught her off guard.

The girl merely looked at him in confusion.  The plan for today had been to go to the grocery shop and do stuff around the house, not entertain the man who had admitted to wanting her last night- but she knew if he was here, it meant he was determined to get his way.

Aka, spending time with her. 

“Okay.. So now you saw me.” She said lowly. “Do you want to go home now?”

The sight of her looking so flustered and on edge fueling his determination, he shook his head.  "Not yet." He said, his voice low and firm. "M’not leaving until I get some of your time."

Y/N closed her eyes, taking a deep inhale through her nose and exhaling through her mouth. Meditative breathing did wonders, it seemed. Usually. She knew Harry well enough to know that he wasn’t going to let this go. He was going to keep prodding until he understood that he probably had no actual intention of being around her long term. He was looking at her with metaphorical sex goggles on. Yeah, she was good in bed, but that was only a tiny portion of her. 

He’d learn eventually.

“Well, I have to go to the store. So…”

Harry watched you closely as she opened her eyes from the attempting to calm herself. It was a little unnerving to know she needed to calm down from such a simple interaction but then again, he had been coming on a little strong. It was his nature, but he tried to relax his stance a bit. No way was he going to let an opportunity to spend time with her be wasted. He was dedicated now, wanting to win her over.  "You're going to the store?" He leaned in closer. “Looks like I'll just have to come with you, then."

Y/N sputtered as he took her handbag and totes from her, tucking them under his arm as the other held her hand. 

“C’mon.” He said smugly, pulling her towards his car. She followed, confused at how he had just agreed to go grocery shopping with her. Willingly. It wasn’t something he liked doing and she knew that- she somehow had found out one night that he had his delivered- but he seemed eager to do this with her. 

The last thing she expected was for him to open the passenger door and help her inside, but he did. Like it was second nature, opening it up and taking her hand to aid her into sitting sound, placing her bags on her lap.

Harry's smirk widened as he scooped up her handbag and totes, his grip on your hand firm as he guided her towards his car. He snickered under her breath at her sputtered protest, enjoying her disbelief that he was actually willing to go grocery shopping with her. Like it was some sort of hardship.

Once he had settled her in, he leaned in closer, the smell of cinnamon gum filling her senses. Keeping his stance, his eyes locked on her, his gaze intense. He could see the confusion in her eyes, and it only fueled his determination to make it second nature to her, to expect this sort of thing from him. . 

"You look cute this morning." He said, his voice low and smooth. "Did you get much sleep last night?" He reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his touch gentle.

Her cheeks felt hot as he tenderly touched her, the softness of it all surprising her. “Um… I did.” The compliment had flustered her too. It wasn’t something she was used to from him. Their usual dynamic was tense on her end and being a pain in the ass with a stupid smirk on his. This sort of treatment was new to her. 

“Thanks. You look….” It felt unnatural to compliment him, but she meant it. Strangely enough. All of this was so new to her.  “Nice.”

Harry chuckled at the slight hesitation in her words, enjoying the way she was thrown off by his tenderness. One day she was going to accept it.  He smiled at her attempt at a compliment, narrowing his gaze at her. "Just nice?" He teased, raising an eyebrow.  He placed a light hand on her knee, his thumb stroking her skin in small circles, his touch gentle and comforting.

“Well, handsome? I dunno.” She grumbled. “Just so you know, you’re carrying all the grocery bags. If you insist on coming along you need to be useful.”

"Oh, I can be very useful, love. You jus’ need to find out what else I can off s’all." He said, his hand continuing its caressing on her knee, his touch sending a little jolt through her body "And don’t worry, I’ll carry all the bags. You just worry about picking out what you need."

Harry could see the doubt in her eyes as he reassured her about carrying the bags, and he knew he had to prove it. Not just that, but the whole thing. He hadn’t won her over quite yet, but he would. 

Removing his hand from her knee, he ignored how much he missed the touch and stood up straight, standing tall and strong next to the car. 

"You don’t believe me?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. "Just watch, sweetheart. Gonna shock the shit out of you."

——-

Y/N was suspicious. 

Harry was… behaving. More than, actually. He was being sweet and polite, borderline charming. Standing beside her as she pushed the cart, grabbing the items at the top shelves, not rushing her at all. He was flirty, sure, but nothing insane that truly made her roll her eyes at him. His voice was soft spoken and held only a tiny bit of the arrogance it usually did… and she liked it.

Who the fuck was this? And what had they done with the normal Harry? 

“You’re freaking me out a little.” She mumbled, checking off another thing on her list. “Like, you’re being pleasant. That’s not normal for you.”

"What, I can't be pleasant sometimes?" He teased, giving her a look. 

He couldn't help but grin as he watched her check off another item on the grocery list, his eyes roaming freely over her focused expression. He was enjoying this, he realized, enjoying the chance to be close to her more than he would have ever expected. "Maybe I’m just in a good mood today." He said, leaning against the cart.

“It’s just suspicious.” She glanced at him from the side of her eye. “You’re always following me around and trying to get me to snap at you. So excuse me for being a little confused when you’re acting so normal and nice.”

Harry liked working her up and getting reactions out of her, but he liked her. Y/N gave him the tummy butterflies, the excitement, the hot cheeks, all of it. She just didn’t know that- or was heavily in denial. It was his fault, he knew, from never expressing how serious the desires were and expecting her to read between the lines. But fuck, could she blame him? Y/N was a spitfire.

“Can you- fuck.” She groaned. “This can not get any worse.” 

Across the aisle, she saw her. Nina. Glaring at the scene of Harry standing a little too close to Y/N, doing a domestic activity like shopping together… It looked like they were way more than friends. This wasn’t something he liked doing and of course, the other girl would know that… So the situation didn’t look too good.

Harry could feel the shift in her mood as she spotted Nina across the aisle, and he tensed up slightly, ready for the inevitable confrontation.  Fuck, and they’d been doing so good. Of course, someone had to throw him a curveball. 

Good thing he was willing to work for this. 

"Relax." He said quietly, his hand squeezing her shoulder reassuringly, thumbing over the fabric. "I'll handle it."

Harry could feel the tension in her body as he held onto her, knowing that she was on edge. He knew Nina could be a handful, and he didn't want her to add to the stress of the situation. Especially after Y/N was seemingly warming up to him.

He took a deep breath and turned to her, his expression neutral but firm. 

"Nina." He said, his voice calm and steady- almost bored. "Why are you glaring at us like that?”

Nina’s eyes flicked between the pair, her expression hardening as she spoke. “What are you two doing?” She asked, her voice dripping with disdain. 

Harry kept his expression neutral, his hand on Y/N unmoving as he spoke to her. “We’re shopping. Is that a crime?” He replied, his tone cool.

Nina’s lip curled up in a sneer, her eyes narrowing. "Shopping? Is that all?" She asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Awfully domestic, isn’t it?”

Harry chuckled, unruffled by her attitude. "Yes, Nina. We’re just picking up some groceries. Is that so hard to believe?" he challenged, letting her try and intimidate him. It wasn’t going to work. 

The girl’s jaw clenched as Harry responded to her, clearly annoyed at the lack of reaction she was getting from him. 

She took a step closer, sizing Y/N up with an unpleasant expression. She really needed to not make that face- it was unflattering.  “Is this a date or something?” She snapped, her eyes flickering over to Harry.

Harry chuckled at Nina’s question, finding her assumption humorous. 

He looked over at the girl he wished would say yes, his eyes filled with amusement. "What do you think, love?” He taunted.  Maybe it wasn’t the nicest thing to do, but he didn’t particularly care. 

Y/N rolled her eyes. This wasn’t what she wanted out of this interaction. Hell- she never wanted his interaction at all. “We’re shopping.” She said lowly. “And we have to go.”

Nina pursed her lips as her response, clearly unsatisfied with the answer she was given. She never could leave well enough alone. Harry could see her gearing up for another snarky comment, so he quickly interjected. 

"She’s right." He said, his tone firm. “We do have to go. Bye."  There was no hint of remorse on his face as he motioned for her to get out of the way. 

With that, he guided Y/N forward, steering both her and the cart towards the checkout area.

“Christ.” Y/N rubbed her temples. “She’s gonna try and burn my house down. I know it.” She sulked.

Harry chuckled at the outburst. He continued steering the cart towards the checkout area as she went back over the list, a small smile on his lips. 

"Don't be so overdramatic." He teased. "She's not gonna burn down your house. She's just jealous."

“Harry, she’s scared like, 4 women away from hanging out anywhere near you completely.” Y/N sighed. “I know you don’t see it as much, but she’s tenacious. I don’t know what’s going to get her to stop, but you need to actually have a conversation with her to tell her you’re not interested. Or whoever ends up being your girlfriend is going to have to deal with her crawling around.”

Harry’s smile faded slightly as she mentioned Nina’s past behavior. He knew she could be intense and possessive, but he didn’t realize the extent of her actions. Considering he hadn’t even slept with her, it seemed like a massive overreaction. Of course there had been natural curiosity over some of the women in their friend circle had gone, but now that question had been answered. 

He bit his lip, mulling over the words as he helped her load the groceries onto the checkout belt. "You’re right." He said finally, his voice serious as it broke up the beeping of the items being scanned. "I guess I didn’t realize it was that serious. M’sorry. I don't particularly want to have that conversation, but it needs to be had. I’ll talk to her."

Harry continued helping you with the groceries, lost in thought for a moment before speaking again. "I’ll talk to her soon, make sure she knows for sure me and her are never going to be a thing and if she wants to try and scare off anyone I talk to, she won’t be invited to anything else." He said firmly, his eyes serious. 

"But first," he added, breaking the tense air as his tone turned playful again, "We have to get these groceries home. I’m starving."

—

It was safe to say that she was even more confused than she had started off being. 

Harry helped her bring the groceries into her place. He helped her unpack. He even fed her cat while she washed the fruit so she could put it away. Helping himself to her house like he had a right to be there, a comfortability that had her a little spooked. 

It was hard to accept the thought of Harry actually liking her. First, she hadn’t ever seen him with a serious girlfriend. All she had been exposed to was seeing him fucking around with different people. Secondly, he was always so playful and unserious that internally, the most insecure part of her felt like maybe it was a trick, and it made her more apprehensive of him. 

It wasn’t fair of her to be so judgmental when she was not a virgin mary herself; she knew that she wasn’t giving him a proper shot, but it was scary. He was scary, in a way.  Maybe it was the idea of how far feelings could go if she gave in, but it felt hard to stop those original emotions she had towards him from coming back. 

“Thank you.” She said awkwardly as Harry sat at her breakfast bar. “Um, for helping put away the stuff and bringing it inside. That was really nice of you.”

Harry, who was lounging in a chair at the breakfast bar, chuckled at the awkward gratitude.  "S’no big deal." He said, his tone casual. "I’m happy to help." 

He leaned back in the chair, his eyes roaming over her face, his favorite thing to do. Watching her was the best part of being around her.  He could see the tension in her shoulders and the uncertainty in her expression, and it made him wonder what was going on in that head of hers. Why she was so apprehensive. Yeah, he knew he had a weird dynamic with her before, but no one thought of him as a bad guy.

The longer he looked, the longer Harry could tell that there was something bothering her, and he wanted to find out what. Call it morbid curiosity, but it was needed. He leaned forward a bit, his eyes locked on her pretty face.

"You seem a little tense." He said, his voice soft. "Is everything okay? You've been quiet since we got back."

She hadn’t expected him to call her out on it, but she should have. Harry was as blunt as they came, and she could have laughed at it if she didn’t feel a little anxious. 

“I’m okay.” She wrapped her arms around herself, looking at her feet for a moment the soft green ladybug socks he had given her a laugh over. “I’m a little anxious, I guess. This new dynamic kind of… put me off kilter.” The confession hung in the air before she continued.  “I’m used to you being annoying and… I dunno. It’s unfair of me, but I keep getting nervous that this is some joke to you and you’re gonna go back to being obnoxious once I let my guard down.” She winced. “And I’m sorry. That isn’t fair to you when I know I haven’t been the nicest to you either. But I guess you intimidate me a little.”

Harry listened intently as she spoke, his expression softening as she revealed the source of the troubled look on her face. He knew that he had been a bit of an arse in the past too, and he could understand why his sudden change in behavior had thrown her off. 

He leaned forward on his hands, his gaze still fixed on the girl’s tense stance, lips rolled into her mouth. "I get it." He said quietly. "And I’m sorry if I intimidated you or made you uncomfortable. That’s the last thing I wanted to do."  He ran a hand through his hair, sighing softly. "And as for this being a joke... it’s not. Not in the slightest. Trust me."

“I guess I’m a little confused too.” She admitted. “Where all of this is coming from. I know we hooked up a few weeks ago, but you didn’t call me or anything after. I wasn’t expecting you to, don’t get me wrong, but then I felt awkward seeing you at all the events and stuff and you were acting normal. I never let you get alone with me on purpose because I didn’t want to hear you tease me for giving into you.”

Harry’s expression soured a bit as she brought up the hook-up. He knew he hadn’t done anything to dispel her doubts about his intentions, and he felt a pang of regret.  He paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts. How could he explain it without sounding as stupid as he felt? “I know I didn’t call you after, and I should have. I was an idiot… I just… I thought maybe you wanted me to chase a bit, that the ball had been left in your court after I dropped you off at home and… and I didn’t think, honestly.”  He ran a hand through his hair, a frustrated sigh escaping his lips. 

“You have to understand why I’m a little uneasy.” With arms wrapped around herself, she let herself look back up at him. There was no trace of joking on his features and it did make her feel a tad bit better.  “It’s not that I didn’t like… what we did.” It was the best she’d ever had. “But I think I’m not cut out for just hooking up. I don’t regret it, even if I acted like I did.” She decided to give him a tiny bit of her vulnerability to see what he did with it. “I just know that hooking up, for me, never ends well. And I don’t know you really well, Harry.” She fiddled with the hem of her shirt, nerves shot. The last thing she wanted to do was seem desperate about locking him down or something, but she couldn’t lie to him or herself.

“I’m not trying to make you feel any sort of pressure to want to date me or anything. I’m just trying to lay down a boundary that for me, I think I’m one of those people that really needs an intimate connection and trust with someone. For some reason I trusted you that night, and I know you wouldn’t harm me in that way, but sobered up and standing in front of you, I feel a little apprehensive. Like, I don’t want you to feel any sort of pressure from me, but in order to have me in the way you said you want… it has to have some level of commitment is basically what I’m trying to say.”

Harry listened intently as she laid down the boundaries, his expression thoughtful. He could see the vulnerability in her eyes and in the way she fidgeted with her shirt, and it tugged at his heart in a way he hasn't felt before.  The last thing he wanted was for her to feel any sort of regret and he was glad she hadn’t so far, but he had to appreciate her laying out the law here. It gave him direction on where to go. When she finished speaking, he took a moment to process the words before responding. He can feel the seriousness of the conversation, and it's clear that she wasn’t making demands lightly.

He took a deep breath, his own vulnerability on display in his honest gaze. It was imperative to him that she understood how much he got it. How dedicated he would be to it if given the chance. "I understand." He said quietly, licking over his bottom lip. "I understand that you need a committed relationship, darling. I also understand that you need trust and intimacy in order to get there." he added, his voice soft. 

He took a moment to organize his thoughts, then continued speaking. It should be laid out in front of her. “You know, I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately… about us, I mean.”

“What do you mean?” She asked quietly, taking the moment to look him in the eye. It was the most serious she had ever seen him. Usually he had that smirk on his face, so smug or teasing, he’d be poking and prodding at her to get a reaction- but nothing about this interaction was insincere. It was almost off putting to see him this way.

Harry's gaze met hers, his eyes intense. "I mean that I've been thinking about us in a more serious way." he admitted.  He took a deep breath, his expression tentative. "I know I've been kind of hot and cold with you… and I know that I've played games in the past. But after we hooked up… I really couldn’t stop thinking about you. How different we were like that… How good it felt. So I want you to know that... I don’t want to play games with you. I want t’be serious about this."

Y/N hadn’t expected that answer. In all honesty she thought he’d reject her, say he wasn’t into it and keep it moving. That was what she was prepared for- not this. That sort of confession had her realizing that maybe she really didn’t know him at all. She knew some parts, sure, but seeing him like this was brand new. This man in front of her was a familiar stranger, at least this new side.

“I’d have to get to know you better.” She brushed her hair behind her ear, giving him a tentative look. “And it would be a little slow. I think I could give you a chance, though. I’ve been unfair to you, I think. I feel like we… kind of got off on the wrong foot.”

Harry lets out a small sigh of relief, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “I’m okay with slow.” he says, his voice sincere. “I’m willing to work for it.”

He leaned back a bit, giving her a little more space as a hint of his usual playfulness returned to his features.. “And I think you’re right… we got off on the wrong foot. But I’m glad we’re taking the time to get to know each other now.”

——-

—— 

Harry was coming over again. 

It was strange. Since they’d agreed to explore something romantic, seriously, he had changed. Not completely, not to the point where she wondered who he was before, but enough to make her soften up. Hints of him being a pain in the ass we’re still there. But he was… sweet. Genuine. A little silly in a cute way that she hadn’t allowed herself to enjoy before. 

One of the biggest shocks of all, was the fact that he was so gentle with her. He handled her with care, even if he was a little overly touchy. She was getting used to it because she found herself liking it, but he was the first guy to really be a bit of a clinger. 

That was the last thing she had ever expected from him.

His touches were soft and sweet and he looked at her with this little twinkle in his eye that she knew he couldn’t genuinely fake it. He liked her- liked her , liked her. 

She was still a bit shy with him, but it was slowly melting away each time they saw each other. Now the nerves were barely there, being overtaken by anticipation and excitement. It wasn’t something she’d ever thought would happen- being excited and antsy to see Harry, wanting him back in her house. 

He was coming over tonight and she had been prepping for a bit, primping and priming herself even though she wanted to look casual. There was never once so far that he hadn’t told her she looked gorgeous, and it had started becoming part of her daily routine. She wanted to impress him, make him say it again and mean it.

Her tummy twisted as she heard his car door slam shut, smiling to herself as she adjusted her cropped top and went towards the door. 

He was beautiful. Really, gorgeous as she opened the door to reveal him in the early evening light. He looked a little tired from work,slight bags under his eyes, but his smile melted her a little as he walked right into the house, dropping his bag in the foyer with little care for its well-being and picked her up in a big hug. Her feet dangled as she squealed, strong arms wrapped around her waist as he lifted her effortlessly. 

“Hi.” She beamed shyly, feeling him set her down on the floor.

Harry couldn’t help but grin as he placed her down, his strong arms wrapping around her waist lazily.. He loved how delicate she felt in his arms, and he loved the way she squealed with surprise as he lifted her up a bit. Really, he loved most things that had to do with her. Taking a moment to admire her cozy appearance, his gaze lingered on her cropped top. “Hi.” He replied, his voice soft and warm. “You look beautiful.”

Like clockwork.

Before she could respond, Harry was pulling her back into a hug, burying his face in her shoulder as he held her, rocking slightly. A prime example of how touchy he was, unable to stop himself. He nuzzled her neck, letting his cool nose brush against the hot skin. “I missed you.” he mumbled, his voice muffled against her, leaving a little shiver in it’s wake..

When he said things like that it made her want to giggle madly, but also melt into a puddle. He truly meant it, was the thing, and she had a hard time understanding how this had happened. How he had gone from her little enemy to the person she looked toward to seeing the most. 

“I missed you too.” She admitted, fingers tracing down his back. It was an attempt to get more open about her feelings. Harry was being candid about his own, so she felt like she could extend him the same grace. Even if it was slightly terrifying, she had no reason to hold back anymore.

Harry pulled back slightly to look at her, a soft smile on his lips at her shy admission. "I like it when you say that." he teased, his voice low.  He brought his hands up to rest on her hips, his thumbs tracing small circles on the bare skin. He loved the way the cropped top revealed just enough to make him want more, and he found himself struggling to focus on anything but the feel of her body under his hands.

Harry wanted her, and there was obvious desire for her there. In all honesty, there was a lot of desire for her in general that he had done his best to keep under wraps  He’d been so good, trying so hard to prove himself- but that didn’t mean he was a saint. He was beyond attracted to her in every sense of the word, and it was hard to ignore that..

“Excuse me.” She let her smile grow, her tone playful. “My eyes are up here.” 

Y/N knew Harry wanted her in all of the ways, and he’d been exceedingly patient. He knew she was trying to build their connection before getting intimate with him again, and she appreciated it- but that didn’t mean she didn’t enjoy knowing he desired her. 

Or that she didn’t have those same urges.

Harry's gaze flicked back up to meet hers, a cheeky grin on his face. "I know where your eyes are. I look at them plenty, do I not?" He replied smoothly, his hands still resting on her waist, giving a gentle squeeze.  He couldn't help but let out a small laugh as she shot him a look, his eyes sparkling with mirth. "But you can't expect me to ignore the rest of you when you're wearing something as distracting as that." Testing the waters, he was seeing how far his flirtation could go.

“It’s loungewear, you freak.” She scoffed, a hint of a smile turning up her lips. Leggings and a cropped top were a bit of a reward for him, though. She figured if he had been so patient with her then he could at least get to look at her. “But I’m glad you like it.” 

Taking his hand in her smaller one, she led him towards the kitchen to show him the pizza boxes and salad she had made to pair with it, feeling weirdly shy about it. That was the theme of today, considering she had come to a conclusion in her head- but he didn’t need to know about it quite yet. “I knew you’d be hungry when you got off work, so I ordered ahead.”

Harry's eyes lit up as he saw the food, warmth spreading through him. No one had been thoughtful like that to him before, but of course she would be. This sort of thing was why he had liked her. He’d seen it time and time again with their other friends and secretly wished for some of it for himself, that sort of care… and now that he got it, he felt that yearning for her get a little bit stronger. He let out a low whistle. "You knew exactly what I needed." he murmured, a grateful smile on his lips. 

Pulling her into him, his arms wrapping around her waist from behind. He nuzzled her neck again, his breath warm on her skin. "You're too good to me." he murmured, his voice showing just how grateful he was.

Y/N shivered slightly as he spoke against her skin, large arms wrapping around her and making her feel that same brand of delicacy that only Harry had been able to accomplish. His arms were just… beautiful. Built and muscular, covered in those tattoos, she loved every single thing about them. Looking at them, feeling them, how he used them… she couldn’t admit it out loud yet, but being in his arms was one of her new favorite places. 

“You texted and said you didn’t sleep well and you had a rougher day at work and… I dunno. I thought maybe you’d like something ready when you came over. I would have cooked myself but I had a workshop.” She rambled on a little bit, feeling the need to overexplain herself.

Harry squeezed her tighter, his chin resting on her shoulder. He inhaled her scent, his nose buried in hair as she spoke. 

"Mmm. " He hummed, his voice low and gravelly. He ran his nose over her throat, lips brushing against the sensitive skin. "You didn't have to do all this, you know." He moved his hands down over her hips, his thumbs tracing soft circles on the exposed skin there. "But I'm really grateful you did." He was quiet for a moment before speaking again, his grip on her tightening slightly. "Can I ask you somethin’?"

“Hm?” She replied. It was hard to focus. Sure, it would be awkward if anyone else say them just standing in her kitchen with the large man wrapped around her body, but no one else was there to judge her for indulging both herself and him in this sort of cuddle. 

Harry's body was pressed against her, a small smile on his lips. He really did enjoy this moment of quiet intimacy just as much as he enjoyed the more energetic moments where they’d go out or he’d help her take care of her garden.

"Can I stay over tonight?"

It should have been a scarier question to her, all things considered, but the answer came out of her mouth naturally. 

“Sure.” She nodded. There was no second guessing it either. “Is that what that bag was?” She realized he had brought in a bigger duffle than his usual work one, but she had thought it was maybe just to change from his work clothes.

Harry's smile grew as she agreed so easily. "Mhmm." he hummed, his voice low. His hands moved up her sides, tracing the curve of her waist. "I wanted to be prepared just in case you said yes." Presumptuous? He’d prefer the terms hopeful, even confident. They’d been doing so well, he had to at least ask.

He pulled back slightly, looking down at her with a hint of a smirk on his face. "So... where can I sleep?"

He turned her in his grip, letting her look up at his face now with narrowed eyes. Her heartbeat quickened though she tried to calm it down. He was teasing her a little bit, but he did genuinely want to know. 

“If you promise no extreme funny business… you can sleep in my bed.” She placed her hand on his bicep, squeezing a little. It was her own reward. “But remember, Harry. No sex. Okay?” Gliding her other hand up to cuff over the back of his neck, she decided it was finally time to tease him back a bit. “However… If you’re really, really nice to me… I may let you kiss me again.”

Harry's smile widened, his eyes sparkling with a hint of challenge. He leaned down, bringing his face closer to the girl’s.  "You're being bold, darling." he teased, his voice low and playful. "Are you trying to tempt me?"

“A little.” She hummed. “I like when you’re sweet to me. So if you keep it up, I’ll let you kiss me as long as you’d like tonight. I know I’ve been holding all of that intimacy hostage…” 

It had been driving him wild. Near kisses and her letting him brush his hand over the curve of her ass a few times before putting them back up to her hips, he’d tested the waters but got rejected. Now, she was loosening up a bit. 

“So.” She blinked up at him. “Are you gonna be nice to me tonight so you can kiss me?”

Harry's eyes glinted with a mixture of desire and playful mischief. He loved it when she teased him just as much as he loved it when she got all shy and flustered. Which one he likes more, he couldn’t tell. "Oh, I'll be so nice to you tonight you won't be able to stand it." he purred, his voice low and husky. 

He wrapped his arms around her waist, drawing her closer until their bodies were flush against each other. "But I have one condition, little miss."

“What is that?” She questioned, unsure what it could be. With him, it could be anything.

"You have to promise me that if I'm being too... forward, you'll tell me to back off. I don't want to overstep. Even though I want to kiss you until you can't think straight. So promise me you'll speak up if I get too much." 

Her smile widened, nodding in agreement. He’d just earned himself quite a few points. Never had she expected him to be as respectful as he was, but she utterly adored it.  “I will. I promise, I’ll tell you.” She agreed, leaning up to kiss the curve of his jaw. “But it’s time for you to eat. I can feel your tummy grumbling.”

Harry let out a low chuckle, his eyes flickering over her pretty face. He loved the way her smile widened, and the feeling of her plump lips against his jaw send a shiver down his spine. More. He wanted more, and more, until their mouths were tingling and numb. Until she looked drunk on the kisses, clinging to him like he could only hope.

"Mmm. Okay, fine." he grumbled. "I'll eat. But only if you feed me, since you were so kind as to order ahead for me." He gave her a puppy-dog look, his lower lip jutted out in a mock-pout. It was good, she’s give him that- but not good enough.

“Absolutely not.” She snorted. “Nice try.”

[sparklystarrrr]

Madhatter!reader x riddle?👀

just imagine riddle yelling at a heartslabyul student for breaking a rule and mad hatter! reader just walk in the room rambling and showing off all the hats they made OR just saying saying random things,and riddle just standing there looking lovesick at them,making the heartslabyul student just standing there confused like:🧍

In a nutshell:

Random heartslabyul student:what do you see in that guy?

Riddle: they makes me laugh

Mad hatter!reader: I ate a glow stick today ! My love! ( ᐛ )/

I think that will be funny to write about

THAT'S ADORABLEEEE I had a good giggle while writing this, tehehe~

Hats Galore

Synopsis: There is one cure and one cure only to Riddle's monstrous temper, that being his lovely partner of course!

Contains: Riddle R. x Gn! Mad Hatter! Reader, slightly possessive/protective Riddle

The evening was a bright and sunny one, and quite calm! Almost... too calm.

Coming from the Heartslabyul living quarters, a quarrel had erupted. two boys inside the dorm had decided that they'd had enough of each other. There were objects flying everywhere, shattered glass askew on the checkered floor, furniture shoved out of position and two slightly bloody and bruised boys in the middle of a concerned circle.

The sound of heavy clicking heels shut down the screaming in the room. The circle of boys created a horse shoe shape, letting their furious and bright red faced Housewarden into the circle to assess the situation. The boys caught sight of Housewarden Riddle and instantly took their hands off of one another. They looked down in shame while Riddle stared in fury. "Excuse me. Have the rules pertaining to the Queen of Hearts rule book not made it exceedingly clear that there is absolutely NO FIGHTING IN THIS DORM."

The boys glanced at each other then flinched at Riddle's booming voice,"Rule No. 546, No fighting inside living quarters. Since you have so ruthlessly broken this rule, I have no choice but to punish you." A growling yell wrung through the once peaceful dorm. "OFF WITH YOUR HE--!!!" Riddle screamed, just about to finish his sentence before a giggly voice flew through the tense air,"Oh Riddle~ Would you like to see one of my new hats? Come come I made a new hat, yes I did!~"

It seemed like Riddle's demeanor had changed in the span of a millisecond. It was concerning to onlookers who saw his once piercing eyes softened into a fluffy marshmallow frosting on the sweetest cake when laying his eyes on the ditzy (y/n) before him."See see? This hat right here is made from only thee finest fabrics of a wild Bandersnatch I caught with my own two hands, I did!"

Riddle's face softened and melted into a warm smile while he giggled at his partner's antics,"Ah, (y/n) dear, the hat looks just as well crafted as ever. Such a talented partner I have." Watching (y/n) pop out of their room on occasion to reveal their newest hat design was Riddle's favorite parts of his day. Although for the rest of the dorm members, they found it quite odd... Not just how (y/n) acted, but... how Riddle was so deeply in love with the hatter?

They all started and glanced around with confused expressions, some stifling a giggle behind their hand. One brave soul dared to interrupt Riddle and (y/n)'s sweet moment by getting close and whispering in his ear trying to be discreet,"Uh, Housewarden Rosehearts, that's really your partner?" Riddle simply smiles, though there was an undertone of 'I'm going to kill you if you ever say that again' hiding behind his glittering grey eyes "They make me laugh, and their passion for hats is truly admirable."

"Oh Riddle, you do cause an action of my diaphragm to force air from my lungs and vibrate my vocal cords as well, haha!(that just means a laugh...)" (y/n) snorted while plopping their new hat on their head. "Come come now Riddle boy! I must make a hat for you, I plucked feathers off a dodo bird I believe you'd especially like the color of. Let us be off, yes we should!!"

(y/n) happily grabbed his gloved hand and dragged him to their room to keep him there for most likely a few days on end while they created a specially made hat just for him! Of course, the red haired boy had no complaints of the dragging and practically being held captive in his partners room. If this wasn't a sign of the hatter's devotion to him, what else could be?

[emacrow]

Welcome to the Starlight Toy Galore! How can I help you?

Apparently, 1 toy wasn't enough to in the analysis machine. Dick and Damian were compromised by the toys and refused to part with them.

Babs decided to go this time, but this wasn't the first time she came into the place for investigating, actually..

This was the 36th time she visited, not because a ridiculous tall, very obvious dork of a owner kindly remade his front more wheelchair accessible to enter and couldn't take a goddamned compliment to save his life.

This was her case dammit, and Batman wasn't going to ruin all her processes steps of plans she had already set back, steps now by visiting.

It seem this week was appreciated space theme background that was completely accurate with various sizes planets above attic seemingly look to be floating until one tiny pluto float downward only for a little 7 year old girl with pigtails to wind it up with a blue winding key and watch it float back up with the others.

Danny always went all out in the starlight Toy galore before what caught her eyes was a little boy that had a butterfly hairpin with a broken dolly, a bag of doll pieces that was the missing cracked head and missing arm piece walking up to a station where the Owner Danny Nightingale was await.

"Can you fix mah ma's Sally? Felix got mad at her for not giving him lunchie when he went out with the guys.. and.. and I got all the pieces..! I trade you mah hairpin for you to fix her!" the little boy said softly with quivering confident, raising the hairpin that he was wearing up with his hand.

The Danny looked down on the little boy and bent over slowly, his form still gigantic even crouched down as he nodded, whispering softly to the boy as he ruffled his little hair, carefully picking the broken dolly that seem way too small in those long thin hands.

Carefully placing dolly and the broken pieces out of the bag carefully, The Danny went to the cabinet above the station and pulled out a jar. She could see his body shake as though he knew she was watching. Now, if Babs could almost see what that jar said, she coul-

The hard tug onto her shirt cause her to turn to see a 6 year old little girl in black braids with rose designed beads, bright blue eyes, and a soft grin with a front gap toothy. She had a tagged name, and I'm Ellen Nightingale.

Ellen mischievous little girl who like to play pranks at the beginning but became sweet on her 3 months ago.

She was holding out a strawberry taffy out in her small hand, colorful sensory rings on three fingers and a ducky doodle in yellow and green marker on the back of her hand.

"Oh.. thank you." Babs said softly, holding out her hand to receive the taffy. Ellen smiles with wider, and her eyes gleamed brighter at Babs as she giggles, rushing off to where Babs was previously watching the Dann-..

Ack. She got distracted!

The little boy was walking away, smiling brightly with the fixed dolly now wearing his butterfly hairpin as Danny waved at him.

Ellen tugs onto his apron and points at Babs, whispering something lightly to him as he picks up something from his stationary. Babs felt nervous for some reason, considering he was a ridiculous tall man. Hell, he can give the killer croc a run for his money in size if he were broader instead of slim figured.

And here they come, alright. Babs smiles softly as they both come over. Before Babs knew it, a bouquet of lilacs and purple roses was nearly shoved in her face.

A heavily bright red-faced danny with his hands shakenly holding the bouquet as he tonguedtied on his own words.

"You did the order wrong, Papa!! It was ask, then give the flowers!! All that hard work pwactices over this last night, gone, You big oversized Dumdum!!" Ellen shrieked, pounding her tiny fists on his legs.

Danny wilted like a deflated tube man as if Ellen's tiny blows could hurt him, but Babs couldn't speak as she was laughing too hard into the bouquet she held over her face to hide how red her face was.

Part 1 here <- -> Part 3 here

[iidesxreii]

Anatomy - S. Reid

∘₊☽ Song: https://music.apple.com/us/album/anatomy-single/1695033802 ☽₊∘

╔ Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

☆ Word Count: 5.3k

☆ Category: Angst/Fluff (Opposites attract, what can I say?)

☆ Summary: You never talk about your father with anyone. And when you finally do allow yourself to think of all the reasons you come to a certain realization. One that took you years to admit. //My take on the song Anatomy by Kenzie.//

☆ Content: HURT/COMFORT, angst, flashbacks, dad problems GALORE

╚ A/N: Omg this is my first fic and it's been sitting in my drafts for like months. I was skeptical about posting this but I guess no better time than now you know? I have a couple more in the drafts and if this does any type of good, I'll release more! Bold are lyrics, italics are memories <3

Also!! This is LONG. I didn't realize how long until I scrolled through and my GOSH. Please grab snacks and tissues because this shit gets deep. PLEASE TELL ME IF YOU HATE IT I WONT BE MAD I SWEAR.

If you squint I slipped in some very slight father figure Hotch bc that’s my crack

═══════ ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ���･ ═══════

You called me today, on a random Tuesday

Don't ask me why I still have your number saved

You roll your eyes and double click your lock button to send the phone call to voicemail. You try to continue talking with the team, but within seconds your phone is ringing again. You sigh and pull your phone out fully but before you could send them to voicemail again, Hotch’s voice broke through to you. 

“Agent (Y/L/N). I don’t know who’s calling you, but please go answer. This is the 3rd time.” Hotch’s usual monotonous voice cuts through the conversation everyone else was having, the minute he does it goes quiet in the conference room. You breathe in deeply before licking your lips looking for a reply.

“Actually it’s the 18th time since you clocked in this morning. 3rd since we’ve landed.” Your all knowing, fast talking and ever so loving boyfriend chirps from the corkboard. Your eyes dart to him and you see that he hasn’t even turned an inch to look at you. Still focusing on the ins and outs of the case your team was supposed to be working on. You sigh before clearing your throat.

“Since you know SO much Reid, who is it?” You ask as you stand from your seat at the table. Morgan has a smile on his face as he watches you two fight like a married couple. Your hands land on your hips and Reid finally turns around. He has a file in his hands and the entire time he speaks he’s reading into it.

“Your father. I saw his name come up 4 times before we went to the round table room for debriefing.” He places the white board marker down before flipping a page in the file and continuing to read. You squint at him and make a face. Your boyfriend had terrible social cues, especially while on the job. He wasn’t the easiest to speak to sometimes, which is why you never let it bother you. Until now. Talking about your father brought the worst out in you. “If you’re going to ignore someone’s calls you could try blocking them or turning-” 

“Reid.” Hotch’s stern voice comes barreling through his train of thought and he finally looks up. When he sees your face his softens immediately. He didn’t know why you never spoke about your dad or why you never answered his calls. He also didn’t know why you never went home during your vacations or never spoke about your home life. But seeing you look so defeated after his last few words to you, he’s wanted to know more than ever. You roll your eyes and pull your phone out. You click your fathers name and the phone immediately redials and sends out the call. You show your colleagues and some of them jokingly laugh as you head out of the door. The phone rings 4 times before it picks up. And then you hear your father.

Hello, stranger, it's been forever

You're acting normal, but nothing's normal about

“Hey stranger! Seems like I can never get you on the phone nowadays!” Your dad’s voice cuts through the quiet silence after a beat of sitting on the phone. You clear your throat as you entire an office that was empty. It wasn't too far from your team so you could still keep an eye on them and gauge what they were talking about.

“Hi dad.” you mumbled into the phone. Your tone of voice did nothing to throw your father off his reason for calling you. You can hear the smile on his face when he continues talking.

“Are you busy? Do you have some time for catching up?” He asks so innocently but you fear that. Your dad never calls for just anything, there’s always something behind the call. Something you chose to stay away from.

“Ah…no.” You think about it for a second before answering. You should have said you were busy, or you shouldn't have called back and instead blocked his number but the thing about your father was you loved him. You always had, always will. He was your weak spot. No matter how many times he had proven he didn’t deserve second, third or fourth chances you gave him them all.

“My little FBI agent is finally quiet. You know you were never really a quiet kid-” he continued talking and you continued listening. Another notion towards you giving your father time that he doesnt deserve. You watch as your team continues shuffling around in the room, talking and marking up a board you can only see half of. 5 minutes later you see the door to their room open and you turn away. Within seconds you find your door opening and Morgan peeking his head in.

“Profile is ready. Good to go?” he asks. You turn to him and give him a thumbs up before returning to your call. The door closes and you take a peek at it before clearing your throat.

“Hey dad, I’ve got to go but…I’ve got some vacation time saved up. How about I come visit and we can go out for dinner.” you turn to look and find your team making their way out of the room and towards the open vast police station. A sure sign that they were about to give the profile without you.

“That’s a wonderful idea, munchkin. Let me know when. Stay safe.” you nod into the phone and immediately hang up. There was nothing more to say after that. You slide your phone on mute before sticking it in your pocket and opening the office door. Before you can head towards the team you feel a hand on your arm. You turn to find Spencer standing, waiting on you.

“Angel-” He doesn’t get any further before you smile and pull your arm gently from him. You didn’t want to talk, no matter how sad you looked or felt. Talking about your dad was never a good thing.

“Not right now, Spence. Profile time.” you deflect like you always have. Never talking about your father was normal to you. Nothing good had or could ever come from talking about your father.

Trust issues and soaking tissues

Your relationship with your father had turned sour about a year after him and your mom divorced. He stopped visiting, stopped calling, stopped sending money for you and your sister. Like he had just given up. And then one day he started calling back and his reasoning was because work had exhausted him and strained him beyond what he was used to but he was back and wasgoing to be there for you guys. If only 7 year old you had known the lie.

“I’m going to come and pick you guys up and we’ll hangout for the weekend. I told your mom I’d be there at 5. I love you guys, Munchkin.” his voice came through the phone one wednesday. Your sister, Ameilia, squealed and jumped on her bed before flopping down and grabbing her pillow to scream into.

“We love you too dad! We can’t wait!” You quickly hung up the phone and turned to your older sister who stopped in her tracks and immediately started digging through your shared closet for clothes to wear. You followed suit with the brightest smile on your face. Unknowingly to you and Ameilia, your mother was standing at your door with a worried look on her face.

Lyin' to my sister and sayin' I don't miss you

The false hope calls kept coming well into your teen years. The constant ‘I’ll pick you up’ and ‘I’m sorry I just got caught up in work’ conversations weren’t making it better. Each time he fell through he had a better lie than last time. Ones that made sense in your little brain. You didn’t finally grasp that he wasn’t ever coming until your 16th birthday. Your mom had saved up as much money as she could to pay for an extravagant party for you and you invited your dad. Of course he agreed and said he’d be in attendance that night which got you excited. But as the night droned on, and the end of your party came to a close you found that everything he had ever said in the last 9 years had been a lie. You knew you’d get a call sometime next weekend about how busy he had gotten, but you figured you’d let it ring. Maybe Amelia would answer.

“You okay?” Ameilia asks you a few days later. You’re working on something to keep yourself busy when you look up to her. She’s sitting on her bed playing with a small toy your dad had given her years ago. 

“I’m fine…” came your quiet voice. She looked up at you and scoffed before throwing the toy into the box labeled goodwill. She was cleaning her side of your guys room before college, and it seemed she was trying to get away from your dad. Something you knew you’d need to do yourself, but haven’t done just yet.

“Do you miss him?” came her soft voice. You turned to her once more before swallowing. You shuffled a bit on your bed before coming to the edge and sitting down. You opened your mouth to say something but nothing came out. Do you lie? Tell the truth? “It’s okay if you do. I did too for a while.” you look up at this. Another toy gets tossed into the box and she looks back at you. 

“Do you still?” comes your quiet question. Your 16th birthday was the one time you expected your father to come through. But you couldn’t help but feel sad that he didn’t. You could deal with any other lie, but a lie about missing this big of a milestone in your life? inexcusible.

“Do me a favor.” You look up to find her standing from her bed. She has her hands on her hips, which is how you know she means what she’s about to say. “When I leave for school, if he keeps calling…don’t pick up. If the ringing bothers you pick it up and slam it back down. But don’t speak to him ever again. He’s not worth your tears (Y/N/N).”

With no closure, just getting older

Now almost 8 years after that conversation you still find it in you to have his number saved. You try not to answer the phone but his persistence quietly eats at the back of your brain making you answer the phone, though you’d never admit that to your sister. You’d never hear the end of it from her. She’d eat at you about the closure you both never got. Which would make you not want to disappoint her but you can’t make them both happy. So for now, you pretend you haven’t answered his calls in years. But you know and it eats at you. The pain you experienced from not really having your dad in your life made growing up harder than it should. Nobody to chase the boys away, nobody to cry to when you felt your mom was being unfair, nobody to bring you to the ‘daddy daughter’ dances. A figment of your imagination, a silhouette of a man you once knew. Nobody to introduce Spence to, have dinners with, walk you down the aisle when that time comes. Just emptiness. 

And the older you got the easier it got to ignore the calls. When you managed to get a job at the BAU every excuse after was about how busy you were. New case, no time on your hands, working overtime, no vacation time, ect. Nothing you ever came up with for an excuse was ever about something normal. It was always about your job. Which put you in a temporary peace of mind. Your phone stopped ringing all the time and only rang sometimes. Your call log stopped being filled with ‘dad’ and in turn at the top of your messages was always a new excuse on why you didn’t answer. And for a while the lies became easier, something you no longer thought about but instead typed out and sent before going back to sitting on your couch. Which had turned you into him, and made you feel guilty so you went back to answering.

But you still see me as a kid on your shoulders

“Can’t wait to see you again! We can go to the park and eat ice cream after!” is the first text you see when you come out of the house you and your team had just barged into. You don’t respond to the text, you instead clear your throat and lock your phone before looking around and checking which car you’d be riding back to the station in.

It's just anatomy, you're only half of me

“Why do you even care about dad? It’s not like he cared about us.” Your sister had asked during one thanksgiving where she was home from school. You shrugged before continuing to wipe off your makeup. Yet another festivity you had invited him to that he had missed.

“He did. At some point…” you whispered into the air. You watched Ameilia roll her eyes and scratch her nose before she threw her hands up and turned away from you. 

“Right. Blood doesn’t make you family you know. He’s only half of our DNA anyway.” She grabs her phone off her bed and heads out of your old shared room and towards the bathroom with a tune humming behind her. You wished you could feel like her. Thriving even without dad. Living.

Still, you don't know me at all

“Maybe we just do the ice cream. The park isn’t for me anymore.” is the only thing you text back. Before you can lock your phone a message comes in and you read it.

“Sorry Munchie. I forget you’re not so small anymore.” Munchie. He hadn’t called you that since before the divorce. It plays in your head over and over again before you will yourself to type something back.

“I am unfortunately 23 now, dad.” You lock your phone immediately before you can accidentally read another text. You go to slip your phone into your pocket and feel it vibrate almost immediately. You shrug it off and pay attention to what Hotch is telling you from the driver’s seat. Right now this is more important. Catching your killer is more important. But Munchie plays in your head anyway.

You've been my missing piece, so why aren't you missing me?

Guess I meant less than I thought

“You still don’t miss him?” you question your sister as she’s getting ready for bed. She turns to you and her smile drops immediately. 2 years ago she had asked if you missed him, and now you're asking her if she misses him. You know the answer though.

“Does he miss us?” You can hear the aggravation in her voice as she answers you. She pulls her blankets back on her old bed and plugs her phone onto the charger.

“Of course he does.” comes your reply. She turns and places her hands on her hips, a notion that she was getting serious.

“Text him. Text him that you miss him and tell me what he says." She motions towards your phone before walking out of your room. An hour later she come back in from her shower and heads to her own bed. She sits down and reaches for the lamp that was on. “Anything?”

“No…” comes your solemn reply. You had been staring at the phone since you sent it. Eyes bloodshot and bleary.

“Open your fucking eyes, (Y/N).” and then the light is gone. And all you are left with is a broken heart, a fading phone screen, and tears streaming down your face.

It's just anatomy

Hate that you're half of me

“Dinner guys?” Hotch voices as you all leave the station with one more bad guy caught. You look over your team who is all fondly talking to one another.

“Absolutely. All on you Hotch?” Morgan jokes while clapping Hotch on the shoulder. Hotch spares him a side eye before letting out a small chuckle. 

“Absolutely not.” He pats Morgan’s chest before turning to you and Reid. The entire team turns and you find everyone staring at you. Spencer included. 

“(Y/N)?” JJ has her bottom lip between her teeth and she’s holding back a smile. You chalk up wallowing in self pity to a later time and smile.

“Family dinner it is.” Spencer smiles at you before throwing an arm over your shoulder and walking with you to the car.

Hate when people say that our noses are the same

So I went and got a change, like three-quarters of L.A

Three weeks later you’re walking in from lunch with Spencer when you see the rest of your team crowding around Penelope. She has an ipad in her hands and she’s pointing at something on it when you both approach. You find a picture of JJ’s family on it and they’re pointing out the similarities in JJ now. You shake your head and head to your desk when you hear your name.

“Wow (Y/L/N). You look just like your dad.” Emily’s voice cuts through the team’s jabbering and you freeze. You hated hearing that. You looked like him and now you don’t reach out like him. Every call is from him and not from you.

“What?” You ask, turning around slowly. Emily points at the Ipad in Penelope’s hand and Penelope turns it to you. You find a picture of you, Amelia, your mom and your dad all dressed in your sunday best for easter photos. You had to be no older than 6. Sometime right before the divorce.

“It’s like copy and paste.” JJ smiles at you and you try to fake one back. Except it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. Jj, Penelope and Emily all notice and like a switch the Ipad is turned around and they all shut up.

“Except her nose is a bit smaller now. It was larger when she was a kid.” Morgan continues. He has a smile on his face and he shows no limit of stopping. Emily turns to him and you see her make a gesture that he completely ignores. JJ taps at his biceps and he shakes it off. Reid goes to open his mouth and stop him but the damage is done. “You get a nose job (Y/L/N)?” everyone's eyes go wide and you blink a few times. Before he can rush out an apology you’re cleaning your desk and grabbing your things. You needed an out. You wanted no one to know about your father or your nose job, but now your whole team knew.

And I've dated shitty people 'cause of how you treated mom

Now I'm with somebody good, but I'm still feeling numb 'cause of

The next day you come in and the subject is on shitty exes. JJ, Emily and Penelope are discussing the ins and outs of how shitty their love life has been or is going. Except obviously JJ. She’s got Will and a newborn. Who wouldn’t love to be in JJ’s shoes. You reach your desk and keep quiet. You’d usually add in your two cents by now but with what had happened yesterday and your abrupt shift end you don’t add your input due to the shitty list of men you had from the ripe age of 14 to 20. Instead you listen to theirs. And it wasn’t like you were expecting an apology. You weren’t. You were just taking your time in getting over the fact that you’d never be able to skip the accusations of looking exactly like your father. A spitting image of him. Like a mirror.

“How is it to be with Reid? Is he how I think he is?” Emily speaks to you first. You turn to her with a relaxed smile and lean back in your chair. You cross your legs over the other and cock your head.

“How do you think he is?” you question her. She looks at JJ and Pen before clearing her throat and giving you an awkward smile.

“The same here, but more relaxed. And always talking your ear off.” JJ holds back a laugh by licking her bottom lip and Pen just smacks Emily’s arm softly.

“He’s actually quieter. And cuddlier than in public, but that’s because he doesn’t like PDA.” You shrug like this is  normal conversation. And of course it is because it’s you talking to your girl friends about your boyfriend, but it isn’t because these are your teammates and your boyfriend is one of them.

“Hey about yesterday-” Emily starts but you wave her off. You make a funny face before stretching.

“No apologies needed. It’s fine.” and then you turn back towards your desk and you continue working on the file at hand. You play it off well but you refuse to let them know that their words have been on constant repeat in your head since you heard them. 

Trust issues, I'm soaking tissues

Lyin' to my sister like I never miss you

Ameilia calls you and catches you off guard the weekend after it happens. She starts the call off by saying something about her wedding which gives you a moment to collect yourself from the multiple crying sessions you’ve had. But you slip and let out a sniffle and she hears it. She stops all conversation and listens for a minute. You try to play it off and speak to her but your voice gives it away.

“What’s wrong?” she asks into the phone. You sniffle again before clearing your throat. You give yourself some time before answering and sigh.

“Nothing Ames. Continue talking about your wedding.” You plaster a fake smile on your face even though she can’t see you. You wipe at your bloodshot eyes and throw yet another tissue into the pile on the table.

“Is it dad?” she asks. You open your mouth to disagree and stop yourself. Then you continue with your lie. You’re just as bad as him, half of him. A liar.

“What? No. I don’t talk to him-” you start to go on a tangent and you hear your sister’s voice break your train of thought. 

“I know you’re still talking to him. I spoke to mom.” Is the only thing she says to you. You sigh into the phone and shake our head. Leave it to your mother to break your 8 year lie apart

“I-” you start but you hear your sister on the other line. She sighs and sniffles before quickly covering it up with clearing her throat.

“I wish I loved him the same way you do. I really do.” And without missing another beat she goes back to talking about her wedding. Anything to not talk about dad.

Say you'll visit, empty promise

God, I wish that for once you'd be honest

A couple of weeks go past and you’re back in your hometown with Spencer. He hadn’t managed to get vacation time with you, but he had a couple of days saved up and decided to use 2 of them for dinner with your dad. Something you had asked him for and he immediately dropped everything to be in attendance. He knew the history with your father. And how much you tried to refuse talking to him. He thought that if you could face this, he’d be able to ask your father if he could marry you. Because that was all he was waiting for, a chance to ask properly.

So you found a hotel and a great place for dinner. Texted your dad and told him where and when to meet you. You got dressed in the hotel room, called a cab to ride in for the dinner and walked in with your head high when you said you had a reservation for 3. You sat at the table shuffling with anxiety and Spencer watched hoping that this wouldn’t be like all the other times. The times that had you sniffling and crying for days on end. The times you spent in your apartment and not his because you didn’t want him seeing you that way. But as time went on, one hour went to two and then three and your drinks went from just one to six. He saw the look on your face. One of defeat and embarrassment. And you chalked it up to another defeat when you called your waiter over and had them close out your six cup wine tab and Spencer’s one glass of water. You signed the $300 dollar tab and left two crisp hundred dollar bills for wasting your waiter’s time and stood. Spencer followed and you both made your way to the hotel.

It's just anatomy, you're only half of me

Still, you don't know me at all

“I’m sorry. I got caught up in some work and fell asleep at the office. Dinner on me next week instead? You’ll still be in town then right?” You read the text and throw your phone on the bed and turn to Spencer who is looking at you with his hands in his pocket. He doesn’t say anything, just pulls his hands from his pockets and opens his arms for you to fall into. And you do. You sigh and fall into his arms and waste no time crying your eyes out.

You've been my missing piece, so why aren't you missing me?

Guess I meant less than I thought

You now understood why Ameilia never sent your father a wedding invite. He wouldn’t pull through back then for either of you, what makes your silly little heart think he’d pull through last night? Or for her wedding? Another ping finds your ears as you watch Spencer gather his things for the airport.

“Munchie. I’m sorry.” “Munchie, I'll be at The Brindleton for lunch. My treat.” “Munchie. Please call me back. I love you”. You don’t notice Spencer looking at you or the tilt in his head as he analyzes your body language. He’s trying to gauge how you feel about your father because unbeknownst to you, you crying in his arms last night solidified that maybe you were ready for anything that comes after 3 years 9 months 19 days and 6 hours of dating. That black velvet box that has been sitting behind the books you find most boring on his bookshelf is now digging a hole into his heart. You look up and find him staring and you just smile at him. And he smiles back.

It's just anatomy

Hate that you're half of me

You flew in 3 hours ago and found yourself at Spencer’s place. Playing with his fingers as he lays on the couch underneath you. Your phone blares your ringtone and Spencer looks at you. You pick it up, watch it ring and when it’s done he notices the multitude of calls you’ve missed. 19. All of them from your father. And he watches as you open your phone, and block his number. Then you delete his contact and set your phone down again. He watches as you contently lie back down and sigh. A silent relief falling off your shoulders. His eyes fly to the bookshelf and then back to you. 

“Hey, why'd you come straight to mine?” Spencer crane's his neck to look at you and you shrug. You spare him no glance as you melt into him even more. He wouldn't have thought that was possible minutes ago.

“I was ready to come home.” your simple answer does it for him. He makes up his mind immediately. And you do too.

It's just anatomy, you make up half of me

On your 4 year anniversary Spencer pops the question. Over dinner at home. And of course you say yes, excited to show your mom and sister. No longer does your father cross your mind. Instead it’s filled with what your future could look like. Half Spencer, half you.

But still, you don't know me at all

You get the occasional call to your work phone but you’ve seen that number before and instead you ignore it. Spencer and the team watches as you do. No longer does it bother anyone because the only place he can reach you is work, and unfortunately a lot of calls go unanswered as a government worker. 

You've been my missing piece, so why aren't you missing me?

You watch your sister walk down the aisle in front of you with her fiance’s dad guiding her. Which makes you think about how you’d like to walk you down the aisle. You turn to Spencer who’s looking ahead at your sister and smile. Your missing piece was never your father. You just held a spot open for someone to love and missed the clear sign that there was always someone there.

Guess I meant less than I thought

A year and a half go by and you’re sitting at your sister’s house with Spencer. She hands you a small box and you find a small cupcake, its topper, a baby pacifier. You gasp as you stand and reach for your sister with wide eyes. She squeals as you squeeze her and turn to Spencer who has dug his finger in the icing of your cupcake. You roll your eyes and turn to Ameilia.

“You are going to be the BEST auntie ever. I love you.” it no longer hurts to hear I love you. Especially when you know the person saying it means it. It means even more when you know you mean it too.

“I love you more.”

It's just anatomy

“For all it’s worth…I knew you had a nose job. I just loved your face so much I never said anything.” Spencer whispers into your ear the night before the wedding. You roll over and face him with creased eyebrows. 

“Are you sure it isn’t because you profiled me and knew I wasn’t going to ever recover if you had told me you knew?” You ask it in a joking way but Spencer can see the truth behind it. 5 years, 7 months, 24 days, 23 hours and 56 minutes of loving you and he can tell everything about you. He never misses a chance to learn something new though. 

“It could be that…” he mumbles as he shoves his face between your breasts in a way of getting more comfortable. If neither of you get any sleep the wedding won’t be exactly as you planned it. And he would hate to make his bride’s perfect wedding go wrong. “Angel, it’s just anatomy. I wouldn’t have cared. I still don’t.” he whispers it and you almost don’t hear it. Almost. But you do and you shuffle closer before wrapping your arms around him.

“And that is why I said yes.” you kiss the top of his head before closing your eyes and attempting to fall asleep. A full day is ahead of you in no less than 10 hours.

Hate that you're half of me

“You ready?” you turn and find Hotch at your side. You wouldn’t have asked for a better father figure to walk you down the aisle. And he was honored you asked. He turns to you and adjusts your dress once more mumbling about modesty and returns to your right side. He holds his arm out for you and you lay your hand in the slit of his elbow.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” comes your response. And within seconds the door is opening, the music is playing, and Hotch is walking you down the aisle. Blood surely didn’t make this family, you did. The BAU was your family. Your dad was just…anatomy.

[cigarettesuga]

꒰꒰⠀⠀⠀opposites don’t attract, they destroy⠀✸⠀(⠀⠀pjm⠀⠀) chpt. O2

pairing: fuckboy!jimin x too-proud, stubborn, social butterfly!f!reader

genre: college!au, frenemies to lovers, smut, angst, comedy (sorta), slow-ish burn, emotional damage with a side of flirtatious banter, bad decisions galore.

warnings: explicit sexual content (semi-public sex, oral f and m receiving, protected p in v, switch dynamics), language, light angst, emotionally immature behavior, casual hookup history, mentions of possessiveness/jealousy, one angry ex-fling banging at the door mid-orgasm. reader is horny and confused. jimin is horny and emotionally stunted. everyone is very much down bad.

word count: 11.5 k (got a little carried away)

summary: (y/n) tries to pretend that night never happened, but jimin isn’t making it easy. what starts with a closet confrontation turns into a routine of stolen moments and unspoken rules: this isn’t a thing. they aren’t anything. until someone from his past shows up at the worst possible time, and suddenly it feels a lot like something.

taglist | m.list | prev.

"we're not a thing"

monday came too soon.

the party fog had barely lifted and already (y/n) was back in lecture halls pretending she hadn’t made life-altering decisions in the backseat of a very questionably clean car. her mini skirt was folded neatly in her laundry basket. her phone was muted. and her pride? hanging on by a thread, but still kicking.

she didn’t look for jimin. not on campus, not in her messages, not even in the periphery of the quad where he usually lurked like a lazy predator in low-rise jeans. she told herself it meant nothing. it was nothing. a moment of weakness, tequila, and bad judgment wrapped up in messy kisses and louder-than-necessary moans. it wasn’t who she was.

but denial didn’t stop the nausea from curling in her stomach when she walked into the café and spotted sora already waiting with two iced americanos and that look. the one that said i know something you don’t want me to know.

(y/n) slid into the seat across from her, sunglasses on even though they were indoors. “don’t start.”

sora raised a brow, positively glowing with suspicion. “i didn’t say anything.”

“yet,” (y/n) muttered.

sora smiled, sipping from her straw like she had all the time in the world. “so… you disappeared the other night. at the party.”

(y/n) hummed in response, scrolling through her phone with all the enthusiasm of a corpse.

“you know what’s funny?” sora leaned forward, elbows on the table, voice laced with that teasing lilt that meant nothing good was coming. “park jimin was nowhere to be found either.”

that got a twitch out of her. barely. but enough for sora to pounce.

“i was in the kitchen looking for you when his cute friend—jungkook, i believe—came up looking for park too. said he ‘lost’ him,” she added, air-quoting. “hilarious, i know.”

(y/n) took a long, very unnecessary sip of coffee. “maybe they went to get food.”

sora blinked. “at midnight? during a house party? in his car?”

silence.

“you’re not even gonna try?” sora asked, sounding offended at the lack of effort. “come on. lie to me with some conviction.”

“i didn’t ask for this interrogation,” (y/n) mumbled, pushing her sunglasses up higher. “it was a stupid night, okay? that’s it.”

sora's smile faltered, just a bit. “so it was jimin.”

(y/n) sighed. loud. “sora.”

“you slept with park jimin and didn’t tell me. i’m not mad, just... disappointed. mostly in your taste.”

“it wasn’t like that.” she crossed her arms. “we didn’t—i mean, it was just—fuck, okay, i don’t know what it was. but it’s over.”

“mmhm,” sora said, entirely unconvinced. “tell that to the regret dripping off you like sweat.”

(y/n) groaned and slammed her head lightly onto the table. the iced americano wobbled in warning.

—

the lecture hall felt way too bright for 9 a.m.

(y/n) sat in the back like always, one AirPod in, pretending her iced coffee would bring her peace. it didn’t. everything felt loud—the scratch of pens, the shuffle of backpacks, the tinny buzz of someone’s forgotten phone. her nerves were tap dancing on her spine.

no one was staring at her, but it felt like everyone could be.

what if someone saw her leave the party with him? what if someone heard?

she shifted in her seat, tugging her oversized hoodie lower like that would erase the ghost of his hands on her thighs. the lecture started. something about political theory or the rise of late capitalism—she couldn’t focus. she could barely keep herself from checking the door.

and then it opened.

“sorry, sorry,” came a voice she knew too well now. low, lazy, not even trying to sound sincere.

park jimin strolled in like he owned the air. like he hadn’t made her lose her goddamn mind in the back of his car. like she hadn’t made herself finish all over him and then ghosted the moment she regained lucidity.

he didn’t look at the professor. didn’t apologize again. didn’t even hesitate.

his eyes landed straight on her. and she felt it—like a sucker punch through her spine.

he walked up the stairs of the lecture hall without shame, slipping into the empty seat next to her like this was totally normal and they hadn’t just completely annihilated the “i cannot stand you” consensus within 72 hours.

“morning,” he said under his breath, pulling out a pen he clearly wasn’t going to use.

she stared ahead like she was carved out of salt. “do i know you?”

jimin snorted. “wow. cold.”

“please. i’m trying to learn about... whatever this is.” she gestured vaguely toward the professor.

“capitalist propaganda. riveting.”

“why are you here?” she hissed.

“it’s a class we both take,” he pointed out, barely hiding his smile.

“you don’t even come to this class!”

“i do now.” he leaned in slightly. “you’re very... motivating.”

she kicked him under the table. not hard enough. he just grinned wider.

“you’re really going to act like that night didn’t happen?” he asked, voice dipped just enough to make her clench her jaw.

“what night?” she replied, blinking at him like he was a stranger asking for directions.

his laugh was low, soft, dangerous. “god, you’re mean. no wonder i can’t get enough.”

she hated how warm her cheeks felt. hated it more that he noticed.

“are you going to flirt with me the whole semester now?” she hissed.

“wasn’t planning on it.” he leaned back in his chair, hands behind his head, looking disgustingly pleased with himself. “but now? absolutely.” 

he was still looking at her. like class wasn’t happening. like she wasn’t actively trying to pretend she hadn’t cried after that orgasm, freaked out, and ghosted him before he could even zip up properly.

she sighed, still facing forward, whispering sharp. “listen, buddy.”

his grin was immediate. oh no.

“oh, i’m ‘buddy’ now?” he whispered back, elbow propped on the desk, body angled toward her like they were in on some hilarious secret.

“whatever you think this is,” she hissed, ignoring the flutter in her chest, “don’t. matter of fact, let’s stop talking to each other. like… ever.”

“aw,” he murmured, leaning a little closer, his breath warm against her shoulder. “so dramatic. and after we shared such a magical night together.”

her eyes snapped to his. “i’m serious.”

“so am i,” he said, smirking. “i was deeply moved. spiritually even. you, on top of me, moaning like—”

“shut up.”

“i’m just saying,” he shrugged, voice maddeningly casual, “for someone who wants to forget, you’re really intense about the details.”

“jimin.”

“you didn’t even take your underwear all the way off,” he said, tone dropping, eyes shameless. “left ‘em hanging off your ankle like a cute little ribbon. drove me crazy.”

she inhaled, sharp and shallow, heart tripping over itself. “god, you’re such a—”

“brat,” he finished for her, tilting his head like he’d just named a constellation. “you were such a brat that night. acting like you were doing me a favor while dripping all over me.”

her jaw clenched. “you’re disgusting.”

“you’re welcome.”

“you’re delusional.”

“mmm, maybe.” he tapped his pen against her notebook just to be annoying. “but you came. hard. and you’ll probably do it again.”

“in your dreams.”

he leaned even closer. “nah. that was real. trust me, babe—I dream dirtier.”

she stared at the board like it held the secrets to teleportation. he smelled like fabric softener and recklessness, and god, he was radiating satisfaction like a fucking smug heater.

“let’s stop talking,” she muttered, finally writing a nonsense sentence just to look busy.

he chuckled, low. “we can stop talking. but if you think i’m not gonna keep looking at your mouth and remembering exactly how you tasted—”

her pencil snapped. 

he was still smirking. like he could see the tiny crack forming in her armor. the way her thighs pressed together. the way her fingers twitched like they remembered being tangled in his hair.

she refused to look at him.

refused to let her face betray anything but exasperation.

her pulse, however, was another story.

she leaned just slightly toward him, keeping her tone low and dismissive but sharp enough to pierce. “you know what i think, park?”

his brows lifted lazily, chin resting on his hand, clearly entertained. “can’t wait to hear it.”

she glanced at him now—just a flash, just enough to deliver it like a challenge.

“i think you’re the one who can’t get enough.”

his eyes flicked to her mouth again. she could feel it.

“of what?” he asked, feigning innocence. “your sparkling personality?”

“of me.” she said, too calm. too collected. “i think you’ve spent so much time getting easy girls to fall over themselves for you that you don’t know how to handle someone who makes you work for it.”

jimin blinked, then let out a soft laugh, sitting back in his seat like she’d just told him a bedtime story.

“that’s cute,” he said, dragging his teeth across his bottom lip. “but if i remember correctly…” he glanced down meaningfully, just once, “you were the one on top, baby.”

she crossed her legs tightly. don’t react. don’t fidget. don’t bite your lip like you always do when you’re flustered—

“must’ve been exhausting,” he added. “doing all that work.”

“you’re disgusting,” she muttered again, cheeks hot, throat tight.

“and you keep telling me that.” his voice dropped, warm and slow and honey-thick. “but you’re still thinking about it. you’re still letting yourself remember it.”

her jaw clenched, eyes fixed on the front of the room even though the lecture had long since become background noise.

he leaned in one last time, his whisper a lazy breath against her cheek.

“it’s okay. i do too.”

the class ended with the sharp scrape of chairs and the dull hum of chatter. she was out of her seat before the professor even capped their marker.

“wait up,” jimin said behind her, casual as ever.

“no.”

“you don’t even know what i was gonna say—”

“i don’t care,” she cut in, picking up her pace.

he followed anyway. of course he did. sneakers squeaking faintly with every obnoxious step as he trailed her like some smug, ridiculously hot shadow. they were almost to the courtyard when the worst possible thing happened.

“yo,” came a voice to her right.

they both turned to see taemin, one of those mutual-ish friends that orbited in and out of their shared social scenes—enough to know the dynamics, not enough to know the details.

taemin looked between them slowly, brows drawn together in mild suspicion. “aren’t you guys like… natural enemies or something?”

she opened her mouth to respond but jimin beat her to it, already slinging his arm over her shoulders like they were dating or whatever the hell this was.

“she’s finally being cool,” he said, grinning. “we’re getting to know each other.”

her stomach flipped. heat flooded her face.

“ew,” she deadpanned, ducking out from under his arm. “god, no.”

taemin blinked. “…are you guys okay?”

“do we look okay?” she snapped, forcing a laugh. “he’s just being weird.”

jimin clicked his tongue, hands shoved into his pockets now, watching her like she was an unfolding drama and he had popcorn in his brain.

“i’m not being weird,” he shrugged. “you just can’t handle someone being nice to you for once.”

“you call that nice?”

taemin looked positively lost, glancing between the two like he was watching an improv bit spiral out of control.

“what is this energy?” he muttered, stepping back. “are you two like… flirting?”

“no.”

“yes.”

they said it at the same time.

she glared at jimin. he winked.

taemin made a face. “okayyy. i’m gonna go.”

“great,” she said.

“say hi to jungkook for me,” jimin added absently, already falling into step beside her again once taemin left.

“why are you still following me?”

“why are you still pretending you don’t like it?”

“because i don’t.”

he hummed, low and teasing. “you do. but it’s okay. i’ve got time.”

“well i don’t,” she snapped. “so go flirt with someone else. someone easier.”

he stopped walking then. just for a second. and when she turned to look at him—against her better judgment—he was staring at her like he knew she wasn’t going to say that again.

“but where’s the fun in easy?”

—

the door clicked shut behind her and she barely made it to her bed before letting out a full-body groan, throwing herself face-first into a pillow.

sora, sitting cross-legged on her own bed with a snack in hand and a suspicious glint in her eye, didn’t even blink. “so… how was class?”

“don’t,” she grumbled into the sheets. “don’t do that.”

“do what?” sora asked sweetly, popping a piece of dried mango into her mouth.

(y/n) turned her head just enough to breathe. “act like you don’t already know exactly what i’m about to say.”

sora smiled. “i mean, i did see you storming down the quad with park jimin hot on your heels looking like he just got denied a second round of something scandalous.”

(y/n) groaned again. louder. more dramatic.

“he’s such an idiot,” she declared, sitting up and tossing the pillow like it had personally wronged her. “he literally tried to sit next to me in class, like nothing happened.”

“uh-huh.”

“and then followed me outside like we were in a rom-com. like this is some sort of friends with benefits arc.”

“sounds like someone’s a fan,” sora said, half-smirking.

“can you believe him?”

“oh, absolutely. but babes,” she leaned forward slightly, elbows on her knees, “can you believe yourself?”

(y/n) blinked. “excuse me?”

sora raised a brow, popping another mango slice. “you’re really out here acting like this is brand new. like you haven’t been side-eyeing him all semester like he’s an off-limits dessert on a cheat day.”

(y/n)’s jaw dropped. “i have not—”

“you have. and don’t get me wrong, i respect the effort. the whole ‘he’s annoying and gross and i hate him’ routine was very convincing.” sora tilted her head, grinning. “but, like… you disappeared at that party. he disappeared. and now you’re doing a fake lovers-to-enemies-to-lover-again speedrun? baby. be serious.”

“we’re not lovers.” she hissed.

“sure,” sora nodded. “and i don’t binge-watch kdramas at 2am. tell me another lie.”

(y/n) flopped back on the bed, covering her eyes with her arm. “it was just… one time. a mistake.”

“was it mind-blowing though?”

“sora—”

“okay okay fine. not important.” she stood up and stretched, already heading toward the fridge. “but, for the record, he’s been into you since like week three.”

(y/n)’s breath caught. “no, he hasn’t.”

“please,” sora scoffed, grabbing a can of sparkling water. “he literally asked me about you once. like out of nowhere. said, and i quote, ‘what’s her deal?’ with this stupid little smile.”

“…you’re lying.”

“why would i lie for him? i’m team hot girl. always.” she plopped back down. “but also, maybe consider why you haven’t told anyone yet. like… not even me.”

silence.

(y/n) stared at the ceiling.

“because it’s nothing,” she said finally. “it’s not real.”

sora’s voice softened. “doesn’t mean it didn’t feel real.”

(y/n) was still on her back, staring at the ceiling like it held the secrets of the universe—or at least the answers to why her life was currently a mess tangled in low-rise jeans and cocky smirks.

sora didn’t let the silence linger too long.

“okay, fine,” she said, dusting off her hands like she was concluding a business meeting. “we’re calling it: not a thing. whatever happened in the back of that car, totally irrelevant. meaningless. an oopsie.”

(y/n) sighed in relief, eyes still closed. “thank you. sanity has returned to the chat.”

“mm-hmm.” sora took a sip of her drink, then casually added, “just do me a favor and give me a heads up whenever you guys are raw-dogging it in here. i don’t need to walk in and be emotionally scarred.”

(y/n) bolted upright. “i’m not giving you a heads up because i’m not sleeping with him again!”

sora didn’t even flinch. “right. right. of course not.” she stood up and made a show of walking over to crack the window open. “just make sure to air the room out after. i don’t want it to smell like jimin’s cologne and bad decisions.”

“can you fucking not?!” (y/n) shrieked, hurling a pillow across the room. it hit sora square in the back, but she didn’t even turn around—just calmly fluffed the curtain and let the spring breeze roll in like she was a sage preparing the room for spiritual cleansing.

“i’m just being proactive,” sora replied serenely. “your future self will thank me.”

“my future self is going to murder you.”

“only if you survive the next round with your mortal enemy slash backseat boyfriend.”

“he’s not—” (y/n) groaned so loud it could’ve summoned the dead. “you know what? never mind. i’m not even dignifying this with more words.”

“sure, babe. bottle it all up. healthy coping is overrated anyway.”

(y/n) let herself fall back dramatically again, dragging her comforter over her head. “this is my villain origin story.”

“better make it hot. people root for messy girls who look good in mini skirts.”

—

the parking lot, early evening

the parking lot behind the arts building still smelled faintly of cigarettes and burnt espresso from the campus café. jimin leaned against his car, sunglasses on despite the fading light, arms crossed like he wasn’t hiding from the aftermath of the day.

“you’re not slick,” jungkook said, tossing his water bottle into the backseat of tae’s beat-up old jeep. “you keep checking your phone like someone’s gonna text you first. we know you. she doesn’t.”

taehyung snorted, slapping a hand on jimin’s shoulder with dramatic flair. “our boy’s in denial. look at him. he’s twitching like a divorced man waiting on a custody ruling.”

jimin rolled his eyes. “you two need hobbies.”

“don’t dodge,” jungkook said, pointing. “you disappeared after the party. like, fully vanished. poof. i checked the upstairs bathroom, the deck, the kitchen—and you were not making out with that blonde girl from econ like you said you would.”

taehyung raised his eyebrows. “wanna try again, romeo?”

“you wouldn’t believe me even if i told you,” jimin muttered, and immediately regretted it.

“oh?” taehyung leaned in, shark-grinning. “so it is good.”

jungkook’s eyes lit up. “wait, wait—don’t tell me—”

“(y/n),” jimin said, looking off into the distance like it physically pained him to admit it. “the backseat of my car.”

dead silence.

jungkook let out a single, disbelieving laugh. “you’re lying.”

taehyung choked on air. “you got her in the car?!” he pointed at the vehicle behind them. “that car?!”

“hey,” jimin defended, “that car’s iconic.”

“bro,” jungkook said, hands on his hips, “you’ve been flirting with her for what—two semesters? three? she used to pretend you didn’t exist.”

“she still pretends i don’t,” jimin muttered.

taehyung narrowed his eyes. “so let me get this straight. miss ‘you’re disgusting, park jimin,’ climbed into your car, made out with you, and you—what? just let it happen?”

jimin finally smiled. smug, slow. “she undid my belt. i didn’t have to let anything happen.”

“jesus christ,” jk muttered, throwing his hoodie over his head. “he’s so far gone.”

“i’m not gone,” jimin said, too quickly. “we agreed it was a one-time thing. we’re not doing it again.”

tae raised both brows. “and you believed that?”

“yeah.” jimin shrugged. “she said it with her whole chest.”

jungkook rolled his eyes. “okay but like… was her mouth saying one thing and her body saying something else?”

jimin just smiled, and that was answer enough.

taehyung groaned. “you’re doomed. like emotionally wrecked by midterms doomed.”

“nah,” jimin said, reaching for his keys and trying to act like it didn’t matter. “we’re fine. i’m chill. she’s chill. it’s whatever.”

jungkook leaned against the car next to him. “you’re so chill that you nearly murdered a sophomore for asking her what lip gloss she was wearing two days ago.”

“it was a weird question!”

“he was gay!”

“he said it like he was curious,” jimin argued, unlocking his car with a dramatic beep.

taehyung and jungkook exchanged a look. that look said yep. this is gonna crash and burn in HD.

“just promise you won’t write poetry about her when she ghosts you,” taehyung said.

“i don’t write poetry.”

“not yet.”

—

the lights in his apartment were dimmed low that night, nothing but the soft hum of a playlist filling the silence between breaths. 

jimin leaned back against his couch, hands resting lazily on either side of him while rowan's perched in his lap, skin warm and familiar, her thighs bracketing his hips like muscle memory. the kind of closeness that’s supposed to feel easy. automatic. 

she smells like jasmine and wine coolers, a little breathless from their earlier kissing, her lips dragging slowly down his neck. the TV’s on mute, flickering some stupid action movie he’s not watching.

but his mind’s not here. it’s stuck somewhere in the backseat of his car, under the tight grip of her thighs, the taste of her tongue, the sound she made when—

rowan rolls her hips slightly, grounding him, dragging his focus back with a practiced tug at his belt. “you’re quiet,” she says, low. “cat got your tongue?”

his breath catches, but not in the way she wants. “just tired.”

“you never used to be too tired for this.” she leans in again, hand sliding under his shirt, up the plane of his stomach. she knows what he likes. knows how to unravel him, usually.

but he grabs her wrist—not rough, just firm. “not tonight.”

“what?” she pulls back, confusion quickly hardening into something else. “you’re kidding.”

“i’m not,” he says, sitting up straighter, adjusting the hem of his shirt like it matters now. “i’m not really in the mood.”

rowan stares at him like he’s grown a second head. “you—jimin. you’re not in the mood? since when?”

he doesn’t answer, jaw ticking once, eyes refusing to meet hers.

she lets out a short, humorless laugh. “wow. okay.”

he tries to soften it. “it’s not about you—”

“oh, of course not,” she cuts in, climbing off his lap, pacing the room like she’s trying to burn off something. “because god forbid you ever talk about your feelings like a real person. no, we just... play house until you decide you’re over it.”

“rowan, come on—”

“don’t ‘rowan’ me.” her eyes are sharp now, arms crossed over her chest. “you think I don’t know? that it’s not me you’re thinking about when I’m right here trying to give a shit?”

he opens his mouth, but there’s nothing worth saying. and she knows it.

“i used to think i didn’t care,” she says finally. “hooking up, no strings... whatever. but somewhere along the way i got sick of pretending that i don’t notice when you disappear into your head every time some new girl starts orbiting.”

his silence is answer enough.

rowan grabs her jacket from the chair, slinging it over her shoulder. “whoever she is, congrats. she’s the first one you’ve ever looked miserable about.”

he flinches.

“text me if you ever figure it out,” she adds, voice flatter now. “but don’t bother if you’re just gonna keep using people like placeholders.”

the door shuts harder than it needs to.

jimin exhales, sinking into the couch, staring blankly at the space she left behind.

fuck.

thursday, campus café, mid-afternoon

the dynamic doesn’t shift much. not on the surface.

jimin still winks when she passes him near the quad. still finds her in every lecture like he’s magnetized to her seat. still leans over her desk to ask if she’s “missed him,” even when she’s actively ignoring his entire existence. still flirts like the backseat of his car never happened—or maybe, worse, like it happened and he knows exactly what it did to her.

and (y/n)? she plays her role to perfection. still rolls her eyes like it doesn’t fluster her. still pretends like she’s busy on her phone every time he enters the room. still cuts him off mid-sentence with a deadpan “get a job” or “you talk too much.”

but it’s wearing on her.

like a pebble in her shoe she refuses to take off, the ache builds. he laughs too loud. sits too close. she hears his voice when she’s not even near him and feels her skin tighten. every encounter leaves a trace—of warmth, of tension, of fucking want—and she hates it. hates him.

hates herself more for still dreaming about the way he groaned her name like it meant something.

they’re at the café when it really starts to get under her skin. he’s already sitting with their shared group of friends when she arrives—oversized hoodie, backwards cap, sipping an iced americano like he didn’t just have two girls giggling at his side moments ago.

she tries not to care. really, she does.

but the second he spots her, his smirk shifts into something too smug, too direct.

“hey, trouble,” he calls.

she freezes only for a second. “do I owe you rent now? you’ve been in my business all week.”

he grins like she said something sweet. like he’s proud to be under her skin.

she takes the seat across from him with the most dramatic sigh she can muster.

he just leans forward, voice low so the others don’t hear. “you look tired, babe. been dreaming about me?”

she stares at him. dead in the eyes. “only in my worst nightmares.”

“still counts.”

and god, it does count. because the problem isn’t just the flirting. it’s the way her body reacts to it. the way her skin still remembers his touch. the way her brain short-circuits every time he calls her babe, like it doesn’t make her stomach flip in a way that’s entirely, pathetically real.

she excuses herself early. says she’s got class.

but really, she just needs to breathe.

because no one warns you that the worst part of a one-time thing isn’t the silence after.

it’s the noise that follows.

that night — dorm room, nearly 2 a.m.

the room is too quiet without sora's commentary in the background. no half-watched drama on low volume, no clinking of skincare bottles or gummy candy wrappers rustling. just the dim glow of her phone on the desk across the room and the hum of the mini fridge.

(y/n) sighs.

she’s already flipped her pillow twice. Her sheets feel like they're suffocating her. everything’s too hot and not hot enough. and she can’t stop thinking.

not about him.

not at first.

she groans and throws her comforter off with too much force, sits up with hair falling into her face, that kind of exasperated energy that only comes when you’ve been avoiding yourself all day.

“fuck it,” she mumbles into the dark.

she knows where everything is. bottom drawer. tucked beneath a t-shirt she doesn’t wear anymore. essentials she tells herself are for “emergencies” but deep down she knows that’s code for nights like this—when the ache is sharper than the pride, when her mind won’t stop spinning and the silence gets a little too honest.

condoms. lube. and the toy she’d never admit she owns, let alone uses.

she settles back into the sheets, legs shifting restlessly. not expecting much. just trying to ease something—tension, maybe. frustration. the emptiness that always hits harder when the world slows down.

she doesn't think of him.

not right away.

she pictures something vague, faceless—hands, lips, warm breath down her neck.

but her mind is a traitor.

because suddenly, it is him.

the tilt of jimin’s smirk. the way his voice dropped when he called her brat. the burn of his hands on her thighs. his tongue tracing the rim of her lower lip before pulling back, that damn string of spit, how ruined he looked watching her come undone.

her breath stutters.

and now it’s impossible not to think of him. her hand moves faster. her body knows. remembers. betrays her with every pulse of pleasure that edges in faster than she expects. she bites her lip to stay quiet, frustrated with herself more than anything.

because he’s not here.

but it feels like he is.

and when she comes, it’s with his name almost on her tongue—so close she can taste it, can feel it scraping the inside of her chest as she gasps, her body arching off the mattress in spite of herself.

silence returns.

heavier now.

god, she thinks, one arm flung over her face.

she wishes she could forget the backseat. wishes her skin didn’t still tingle from the memory. wishes he wasn’t the only one who could crawl into her head and take up space like this.

she hates that she let herself go there. hates that it helped.

but most of all, she hates the part of herself that wants it again.

and so the next morning comes along like a blur.

the kind that clings to your skin and gums up your thoughts.

(y/n) wakes up tangled in sheets that feel more like a trap than comfort, body warm and limbs sore, not from anything real—just tension, that pulling-apart-inside-herself kind of tension. her eyes feel tired even though she slept, which feels like a cosmic joke.

she barely touches her breakfast. everything tastes off. her coffee goes cold on the desk while she tries to not think about last night. about her hand. about the way she couldn't stop thinking about his mouth. his voice. how her own body betrayed her for the millionth time.

and now, here she is, wandering campus like a ghost with twenty minutes to kill before her next class. and, of course—of course—she stumbles right into the one person she’s not in the emotional or hormonal headspace to deal with:

park fucking jimin.

leaning casually against a vending machine like it's a prop in some high-budget music video. his hair looks too good for someone who probably just rolled out of bed, silver chain glinting in the hallway lights, eyes scanning her like he's been waiting.

he straightens when he sees her, lips already curling into that shit-eating grin.

“hey, stranger,” he says, voice all syrup and suggestion. “miss me?”

she clenches her jaw. not today, satan.

he starts walking alongside her like they planned it, like they always walk to class together now, matching step for step with that annoying swagger of his, and it’s so casual, so persistent, it makes her want to scream.

“you know, if you’re gonna keep pretending nothing happened, at least try to not look like you’ve been thinking about me all morning,” he says under his breath, tone light, cocky.

“what the fuck is your deal?” she snaps.

and then—god help her—without even realizing it, her hand closes around his wrist, yanking him forward toward the janitor’s closet just a few feet ahead. the hallway’s not empty, but no one’s really looking, so she drags him inside, slamming the door shut behind them, fluorescent light flickering dim and dramatic above.

jimin blinks, more intrigued than surprised.

“wow,” he breathes, leaning against the shelves with one brow raised. “aggressive.”

“you’re insufferable, park,” she hisses, one hand still fisted in the front of his hoodie.

he tilts his head, smug, eyes glinting.

“and yet you’re the one who pulled me into this closet, naughty girl.”

their faces are just inches apart now. the air thick between them. her pulse flares in her throat, louder than the distant sound of footsteps outside.

he leans forward just a little more, enough for his breath to ghost against her cheek.

“starting to think you like me, sweetheart,” he murmurs, infuriatingly gentle.

“in your dreams,” she mutters, though her hand still hasn’t let go.

“oh, baby,” he grins, “you have no idea.”

her brain shuts off before her pride can catch up.

the only thing she registers is heat—white-hot, no-logic, reckless heat—and her fingers knotting in his hair, tugging hard like she wants to punish him and claim him in the same breath. jimin doesn’t even flinch; in fact, he groans like he’s been waiting for this, starving for it, and then they’re colliding like a match to gasoline.

their lips crash—messy, furious, desperate.

it’s not sweet. it’s not romantic. it’s teeth and tongue and frustration, all those near-touch moments exploding into something they can’t take back.

his hands are everywhere, greedy on her waist, thumbs pressing bruises into her hips through her clothes as he backs her up. one quick motion and he flips their positions, and suddenly it’s her back hitting the wall with a quiet thud—his thigh nudging between hers, his lips dragging down to her jaw like he wants to ruin her, here and now.

“fuck,” he breathes, nose brushing her skin. “you taste like trouble.”

she bites back a moan, hands sliding beneath the hem of his hoodie, fingers skating over hot skin. this wasn’t supposed to happen again. she told herself that. swore it.

but now his mouth is back on hers and she’s arching into him like he’s oxygen.

when they finally pull apart, panting, lips swollen, his fingers still curled around her hipbone like he’s anchoring himself, she’s the first to speak—voice low and wrecked.

“we said we weren’t doing this again.”

“you said that,” he grins, forehead pressed to hers, breath ragged. “i never agreed.”

she’s silent for a beat, pulse thunderous in her ears.

“…we can’t keep doing this, jimin.”

he leans back just a fraction, cocky as ever but something softer flickering beneath it.

“then stop pulling me into closets.”

she rolls her eyes but doesn’t push him away.

not yet.

“so, tell me baby girl…” his voice is a rasp, low and sinful against the curve of her throat, the breath of it ghosting over her skin like a brand. “what’s it gonna be?”

her will? shattered. dignity? already hanging by a thread since the moment she tugged him into this cramped supply closet with fluorescent lights buzzing above like a warning. she should’ve stopped this. should’ve walked away.

but her thighs are clenching around his, hips tilting helplessly into the friction he’s giving her with barely any effort, and his hand is sliding up her back under her shirt like he already knows she’s done fighting.

her fingers twist in the collar of his hoodie, dragging him impossibly closer until his body’s flush against hers, chest to chest, breath mingling.

“just…” she breathes, the word hitching when he shifts his thigh just right, “…don’t try to make it a thing. it’s not.”

he laughs, laughs, that smug, infuriating chuckle vibrating against her collarbone like he’s absolutely thriving off her unraveling.

“baby, you’re grinding on my thigh and telling me this isn’t a thing?” he teases, one hand slipping down to grab a fistful of her ass, rocking her just a little harder against him.

a soft sound escapes her throat—half moan, half curse—and she glares at him, nails scraping lightly over his scalp.

“you’re such an asshole.”

he leans in, lips brushing her jaw, smug and warm and terrible.

“and yet, here you are. again.”

her mouth opens, maybe to argue, maybe to deny, maybe to call him something worse—but then he moves his leg just right again and whatever thought she had dies on her tongue.

her head tips back, hand fisting in his hoodie like she hates how good this feels.

she tells herself one more time. just this once. she’ll indulge the ache, let him give her the relief she swears she doesn’t need. and then she’ll get out before it means anything.

easy.

except they both know there’s nothing easy about the way they can’t seem to stay away.

they move in sync like they’ve done this a thousand times before—like their bodies have memorized each other already, which is insane because technically this is only the second time, and yet… the way they stumble together, mouths still tangled, hands feverishly tugging at fabric and skin, you'd think they’d been dancing around this fire for years.

he walks her backward blindly, bumping into a half-dead mop and an abandoned box of old test tubes before her back hits the edge of the desk shoved into the far corner. his hands grip her thighs, warm and certain, and with barely a word he lifts her with ease, seating her on top like she belongs there.

her skirt has ridden up from the motion, flowy and far too tempting, his palms ghosting up her bare thighs beneath it like he’s approaching something holy.

she hisses a breath between her teeth, spine arching slightly when his thumbs press into the sensitive skin just above her knees, gliding higher with every second.

"you're gonna ruin me in this stupid closet," she mutters, half-dazed, looking at him like she hates him, like she wants him, like she might let him ruin her all over again anyway.

he smirks, standing between her legs, his chest rising with a breathless kind of hunger, lips swollen, eyes impossibly dark.

“baby girl,” he murmurs, brushing his mouth against hers, “you already look ruined.”

her nails dig into his shoulders and she kisses him again, like she’s punishing him for being right.

his hands finally slip under her skirt properly this time, finding the place she needs him most. she bites back a sound, burying her face into the crook of his neck, and he swears under his breath, voice gritty with want.

they’re reckless and messy and completely doomed, but right now? right now, nothing else matters but the way her legs wrap around his hips and the heat pooling between them.

"just be quick, i have class next period," she breathes out, fingers already at the button of his jeans like she’s been waiting for this moment way longer than she’ll ever admit.

"mm, yeah?" he murmurs, voice rough, hands sliding beneath her skirt with no pretense this time. "gonna let me fuck the attitude out of you before you go learn about... whatever it is you pretend to care about in that lecture?"

"shut up," she snaps, but her voice lacks bite—too breathy, too desperate. her thighs twitch as his fingers graze over the soaked fabric between her legs. he huffs out a laugh, low and triumphant, pushing her underwear aside like they’re a mere formality.

“god, you're so wet,” he mumbles, more to himself than to her, dragging a finger along her center just to feel how soaked she already is for him.

she closes her eyes for a second, jaw tight, cursing herself internally. this was supposed to be a one-time mistake. it wasn’t supposed to live in her skin, under her fingernails, replaying itself in the silence of her dorm and in the middle of lectures.

he presses in closer, one hand bracing beside her, the other freeing himself without hesitation. her breath catches when she feels him—hot and hard against her inner thigh.

“wait—wait,” he mumbles, one hand flying down to his pocket, fishing around in the chaos of his denim until he pulls out the telltale foil packet. he holds it up between two fingers, brows raised, chest still heaving. "we really doing this?" he asks, a teasing edge to his voice but his eyes are serious, locked onto hers.

she’s already leaning back on her hands, legs parted just enough to answer that for him. “clearly,” she mutters, half breathless, half annoyed at herself. 

he tears the packet open with his teeth, all while smirking like the cocky bastard he is. “god, you’re hot when you pretend to hate me,” he says, rolling the condom on with practiced ease, low and slow and watching her eyes flicker down and back up like she’s not affected.

“i don’t pretend,” she throws back, but the way she shifts closer, needy and impatient, betrays her completely.

“sure,” he says, stepping in, one hand sliding behind her knee, the other helping her tilt her hips forward. “keep telling yourself that, baby girl.”

“just shut up and—”

and he’s already pushing into her, swallowing her words with a kiss so deep it leaves her dizzy.

he moves quick, like he’s got something to prove—hips snapping forward as his mouth drags a hot line down her jaw to her ear, voice smug and breathless all at once.

“told you you missed me,” he murmurs, right into the shell of her ear, grinning when she lets out a choked sound that definitely isn’t a denial. “you’re so fucking loud, baby… you want everyone out there to know you’re getting fucked by park jimin?”

her nails dig into his back instantly, eyes blown wide as she glares at him with half-lidded fury. “shut up,” she hisses, but it’s weak, pathetic, and ruined by the moan she barely manages to bite back when he thrusts deeper.

his teeth graze her earlobe, tongue flicking before he whispers again, voice darker now. “then you better be quiet,” he says, smug and slow like he’s savoring every second of her unraveling. “unless you want someone walking by to hear how wet you are for me. shit, you’re gonna get us caught.”

her hand flies to his mouth on instinct when he hits that one spot that makes her clench around him, her other grabbing the edge of the desk behind her like she’s holding on for dear life. he groans against her palm, eyes fluttering shut for a moment before he pulls back just enough to watch her crumble.

outside, footsteps echo faintly, the muffled sounds of campus life continuing on while she’s stuck in her own personal chaos—hips jerking against his, skirt bunched around her waist, teeth sinking into her bottom lip just to keep from making another sound.

he leans in again, lips brushing over her cheek, whispering with that stupid grin still in place, “bet you’re gonna be thinking about this all lecture. squirming in your seat like a little brat.”

she doesn’t respond. not with words.

just with another needy roll of her hips that says she hates him almost as much as she wants him.

their foreheads press together, breaths tangled and shallow, like they’re trying to find some rhythm that isn’t just pure chaos. it’s dizzying—the tension, the friction, the way her fingers drag down the back of his neck and how his hand is anchored firm on her hip, grounding them both in the whirlwind they created.

her lip is caught between her teeth, eyes fluttering half-closed, lashes casting soft shadows against flushed cheeks as she tilts her head just enough to meet his gaze. it’s the kind of look that shouldn't be allowed this close—something intimate in all the wrong ways, almost too honest for a hookup they keep swearing means nothing.

her hand moves between them, delicate and intentional, guiding him deeper, pulling herself closer to the edge of the desk, the edge of whatever the hell this is.

he curses under his breath, his hands flexing on her thighs like he’s barely keeping it together. “fuck, baby,” he rasps, voice strained. “you trying to ruin me?”

she breathes out a laugh that turns into a moan, her forehead still against his, lips barely brushing like she might kiss him again—or maybe just needs the contact to stay grounded. “thought you already were,” she whispers, hips rising to meet his with each push, each grind that sends another ripple of heat down her spine.

he pulls back just enough to look at her, their noses brushing, pupils blown. there’s a hint of something in his eyes—cocky, sure, but maybe a little too tender for a boy who swears this is nothing.

but she doesn’t let herself look too long. instead, she rolls her hips again, biting back a gasp, tugging at his shirt like it’s going to keep her from falling apart completely.

outside, the world keeps spinning. but inside the janitor’s closet, it’s just them, breathing each other in like they’re both trying to pretend this doesn’t mean everything.

the warning bell blares down the hallway just as she tightens around him, her face buried in the crook of his neck, teeth pressing into her bottom lip to muffle the sound that still manages to escape as a broken moan. her whole body shudders, her grip on his back turning bruising, and he’s right behind her—biting out her name like a curse and a confession as he comes, buried deep, the condom catching everything, thankfully—though neither of them had said a word about it when he put it on, the motion all muscle memory in the dark rush of it all.

his forehead drops to her shoulder, chest heaving, arms trembling slightly from holding himself upright, both of them clinging to each other like they’ve got anything figured out. there’s only the sound of their panting breaths now, mingled and shallow, a silence filled with nothing and everything.

“jesus christ,” she exhales, blinking up at the ceiling, still half-dazed, still trying to remember what the hell she was thinking pulling him in here in the first place.

“you say that like you didn’t just make me see god,” he mutters against her skin, lips brushing her shoulder, the cockiness dulled only by how out of breath he still is.

she laughs, more incredulous than amused, hand sliding into his hair to push him off her shoulder. “get off,” she says, not even really mad, just… done.

he groans dramatically but obliges, stepping back just enough to carefully dispose of the condom—because for all his chaos, park jimin is still annoyingly responsible. she fixes her skirt quickly, cheeks still hot, her whole body feeling wrung out.

outside, they can hear voices—students rushing to class, lockers slamming shut, someone shouting about being late.

he looks at her with that maddening glint again, like they didn’t just almost get caught mid-thrust on top of a dusty desk. “same time next week?” he teases, tilting his head.

“you’re disgusting,” she mutters, shouldering past him to crack open the door.

“you didn’t say no, though,” he calls after her, voice smug.

she doesn’t turn around. doesn’t give him the satisfaction.

but her smirk is undeniable.

—

and so it becomes a thing—no, not a thing, god forbid anyone ever call it that—but a routine. chaotic, impulsive, and entirely unsustainable, but a routine nonetheless.

monday? janitor closet.

wednesday? a suspiciously long "coffee break" at a near-empty study room on the second floor of the library.

friday nights? depending on the chaos of the week, she’s either pressed up against the backseat window of jimin’s car again or slipping out of her dorm after sora falls asleep to end up at his apartment—hood up, hair messy, pretending she’s just out for snacks if anyone asks.

and it should feel transactional by now—detached. like just bodies moving the way they know how to. but the truth is, they’ve gotten good at this. too good.

they know what makes the other crumble. what to whisper. what to bite. how to push until the other snaps.

and the worst part? the more they do this, the harder it is to pretend they don’t care.

especially when he texts her again on a thursday night.

[park jimin 🐣]: you up? don’t make me beg, baby. i got that playlist you like on repeat.

she rolls her eyes. groans into her pillow. she's alone again—sora is sleeping at her boyfriend’s place for the second night in a row—and the silence of the room is taunting her. she looks at her phone, thumbs hovering, trying not to grin at the stupid little "🐣" next to his name.

she doesn’t need to go. she shouldn't. it’ll only make things worse. the longer this goes, the more tangled it gets. but god—her chest clenches a little at the idea of being near him again. and her body? her body is already making the decision for her, warmth pooling in her stomach, anticipation prickling under her skin.

she bites her lip, taps out a reply, and then erases it.

then writes a new one.

[you]: you literally have a girl on speed dial. why me.

a pause.

[park jimin 🐣]: ’cause you’re the only one who knows how to ruin me right. doors unlocked. i’ll be waiting. don’t wear underwear.

her mouth drops open a bit at the last message, heat flaring up her neck. "fuck you," she mumbles under her breath, already slipping off the bed to grab her keys, hoodie, and curse the way her heart races just thinking of seeing him again.

and the worst part?

she's smiling.

and so she goes.

grumbling under her breath the whole time, hoodie tugged low, hands buried in her pockets like she isn’t marching right into the lion’s den. like her whole body isn’t already thrumming with anticipation, that annoying flutter in her chest doing acrobatics the closer she gets to his place.

the walk is short, way too short.

her feet should’ve turned in the other direction.

but they don’t.

by the time she’s climbing the stairs to his apartment, it’s not even nerves—just electricity. tension. that unspoken thread that's been pulling her toward him for weeks now, winding tighter with every look, every smirk, every shared breath between lectures.

she doesn’t knock.

he told her not to.

when she opens the door, it’s warm inside, soft music already playing—something moody and sultry, like he’s trying to be subtle about how badly he wants her. he’s shirtless, sprawled across the couch, sweatpants hanging too low, remote in one hand and a cocky smile blooming on his lips the moment he sees her.

“you listened,” he says like it’s a victory, head tilting lazily. “you’re not wearing any, are you?”

she shrugs, locking the door behind her, pretending she doesn’t feel that heat creeping up the back of her neck. “guess you’ll have to find out.”

he sits up slowly, eyes raking over her like she’s a gift, like he’s been counting the minutes since her last text. “so generous tonight.”

“shut up,” she says, crossing the room in steady steps. “this isn’t a date.”

“never said it was,” he grins, legs already parting so she can slot herself between them, his hands tugging at the hem of her hoodie. “but if it was… you’d be the hottest date i’ve ever had.”

“you’re such a dick, park.”

he leans in, voice husky against her jaw. “you’re here though, aren’t you?”

and just like that, she’s folding into him, his mouth already trailing heat down her neck, her hands tangling in his hair.

there’s no pretending here. not tonight.

the tension snaps, and the rest of the night unravels exactly how they both wanted it to. raw. messy. addictive.

and neither of them says it, but this feels dangerously close to something.

and god does that terrify her.

but there’s something different tonight. something unspoken in the way his mouth lingers at her neck—not just desperate, not just needy. softer. slower. like he’s trying to remember her skin. like he wants her to remember this.

her breath catches before she can stop it.

she hates how easy it is for him to read her.

"don’t start acting like you care,” she whispers, almost to herself, but his hands are already cupping her waist under the hoodie, thumbs stroking slow circles like he’s trying to soothe something he can’t name.

he doesn’t respond. not with words.

just lets himself be pushed back into the couch, lets her take control—because she always does when she wants to forget. wants to remind herself that this is about lust, not him. that her fingers shaking at the hem of his sweatpants are just nerves, not longing.

she sinks to her knees between his legs, hoodie sliding up her thighs. her fingers hook around his waistband like muscle memory, and god, the way he’s looking at her—eyes heavy, lips parted, chest rising and falling like she’s already got him undone—it makes her heart stutter.

“you sure you don’t wanna call this a date?” he murmurs, voice a little wrecked.

she glares up at him, face flushed, fingers pausing at his waistband.

“say that again and i’ll bite.”

he smirks—broad and smug, head tilting back against the couch like he’s already picturing it.

“tempting.”

and she hates how it makes her grin.

hates that he notices.

hates that he's the one person who can make her feel like this—wanting and wanted at the same time.

but for now, she lets herself fall.

lets the heat in her gut take over.

lets his breathy curses and eager fingers write the rest of the night.

and tells herself, again, this doesn’t mean anything.

even though every part of her already knows it does.

so she takes her time—god, too much time.

her hand moving with that slow, torturous rhythm, dragging along the length of him like she’s sculpting him from memory. delicate, deliberate. she watches him like she’s trying to memorize every reaction, every twitch of muscle, every breath that stutters in his throat.

“baby,” he rasps, voice already ruined, “you’re gonna kill me.”

she hums, feigning innocence, lips ghosting along his inner thigh.

“what, this?” her grip tightens just slightly. one slow pull that makes his head fall back and his hips jerk up involuntarily.

“i’m just being nice.”

“that’s your definition of nice?” he pants, half-laughing, half-desperate. he’s gripping the cushions now like they’ve done something to him, thighs tense, trying not to just grab her and make her move already.

she grins, pleased with herself, dragging her thumb over the head of his cock, circling there with a featherlight touch that makes his hips twitch again.

“mhmm. trust me,” she purrs, eyes locked on his, “i could be way meaner.”

and he believes her.

god, he knows it.

because every time he thinks he has the upper hand, she flips the table with a look, a sound, a move that ruins him completely. and right now? with her on her knees, her lashes low, her touch calculated and slow and addictive?

he’s already gone.

“you’re the fucking devil,” he breathes out, hand twitching like he wants to bury it in her hair. but he doesn’t—not yet. not while she’s looking up at him like that, in control and thriving.

she leans in, kisses the inside of his thigh, teeth grazing skin—just enough to make him curse.

“maybe,” she whispers, lips brushing over him now. “but you’re the one who keeps coming back to hell.”

she takes him—slow, sinfully slow—like she’s savoring something rare, something expensive. the flat of her tongue slides along him first, warm and slick and mean in the way it doesn’t linger. he gasps, his whole body tightening under her like a taut wire, his head tipping back into the couch with a groan that punches straight out of his chest.

“fuck—”

it leaves him hoarse, almost breathless, hands gripping the edge of the cushion like it’s the only thing anchoring him to earth.

she doesn’t even flinch, lips parting around him, teasing the tip before sinking lower, letting him in with a depth that makes his thighs shake.

his hips twitch once, reflexive—like his body’s begging without his permission—and she hums in warning, nails dragging lightly down the outside of his thigh. don’t test me, it says.

he knows better. he really, really does.

but she’s being wicked. she’s being wicked, and it’s driving him insane. her mouth is warm, too warm, her pace maddeningly slow, suction deliberate and just shy of messy. the sounds she makes around him have his breath hitching in his throat, and the way she looks—eyelids heavy, one hand curling around the base of him, the other pressing gently into his hip to keep him grounded—is too much and not enough all at once.

he lets his head loll to the side, one hand twitching like he wants to reach for her. maybe he wants to push her hair out of the way just to see better. maybe he wants to hold her there, not out of force, but because he needs to hold something.

his voice breaks the silence, low and ragged:

“jesus christ, you’re gonna ruin me.”

and when she pulls back just far enough to lick her lips and say, “that’s kinda the point, baby,”

he knows he’s already wrecked.

he pulls her up with a grip that borders on desperate, hands digging into her waist like he’s been starving for her. she giggles breathlessly, about to make some clever remark, but he cuts her off by crashing his mouth to hers—tongue greedy, tasting her, tasting himself, and not giving a damn about it.

it’s messy. it’s hot. it’s the kind of kiss that steals reason.

her arms wrap around his neck instinctively, pulling him closer like she wants to crawl inside him, and he moves with her, backing toward his bedroom in a stumbling, heated mess.

they don’t break apart, not for a second.

her shirt get tugged off over her head, as he kicks the door open. socks are discarded like an afterthought, one of them flying god knows where. his fingers fumble with the clasp of her bra, finally managing it with a muttered “fuckin’ finally,” and she laughs into his mouth before tugging his bottom lip between her teeth.

his knees hit the edge of the bed first, and they go down together, her landing on top of him with a gasp that turns into a moan when his hands slip under the curve of her ass.

the room is dim, painted in shadows and the heat radiating off them like static. they’re both flushed, half-naked, panting into each other’s mouths with every kiss, and when he flips them suddenly—pressing her into the mattress, his body fitting perfectly between her thighs—it doesn’t feel like a fuckboy thing anymore.

it feels like want.

raw.

real.

and almost dangerous in how much it’s starting to mean.

and the worst part?

neither of them’s ready to admit it.

his hand fumbles inside the nightstand drawer, already so used to the motion it’s second nature by now—pull, tear, roll—but before he can even unwrap it, she plucks the condom from his hand with a look in her eyes that makes his pulse stutter. a quiet little smirk curves her lips, all confidence and silent challenge.

“let me,” she says, not really asking.

his breath catches when her fingers brush against him—slow, teasing, maddening. the wrapper is discarded in a blink and her touch is precise, practiced, sliding the condom down over him with torturous ease. he curses under his breath, head tipping back against the pillow, fingers gripping at the sheets like he might lose his mind if she doesn’t—

—and then she moves.

shifting on her knees, she turns, giving him her back as she settles over him. her skirt rides up further, and her bare thighs bracket his hips, flushed and glowing in the low light. she doesn’t sink down immediately—no, of course not. she takes her time. dragging it out. one hand behind her for balance on his thigh, the other guiding him as she slowly, slowly lowers herself onto him.

his hands shoot to her hips, jaw slack, an incredulous sound caught in his throat.

“fuck,” he groans, voice strained like it’s being torn out of him. “you’re gonna kill me.”

and maybe she is—because the view is insane, and the way she moves? deliberate, fluid, her back arching just enough to drive him wild.

she glances over her shoulder, her eyes lidded and lips parted.

“shut up,” she breathes, hips starting to roll. “you’ll survive.”

but god—will he?

his mouth goes dry watching her—completely, devastatingly, ruined by the sight. her hair spills down her back in soft waves, swaying with every precise roll of her hips. her spine curves beautifully, like she knows exactly what she’s doing to him, like she planned this.

and she probably did.

her head turns just enough for her to look at him over her shoulder, eyes half-lidded, lips parted with a breathless little moan. that smirk is still there—smeared now with something darker, needier—and it’s so smug he could lose it.

“like that?” she asks, voice airy and knowing, one brow raised. she already knows the answer, obviously. she’s just making him say it.

his grip tightens on her hips, barely hanging on, knuckles white. “you’re evil,” he pants, his voice strained and rough, “so evil.”

she laughs—a soft, wicked thing—and moans again, dragging her hips in a slow, taunting circle that makes both of them shudder. she’s so warm, gripping him just right, fluttering every time she sinks down to the base, like her body’s as into this as she pretends not to be.

“then why do you keep calling me over?” she throws back at him, another roll, another moan, one hand sliding up to push her hair over her shoulder again.

“because i’m stupid,” he groans, “and you’re—fuck—insane.”

“mm,” she hums, tipping her head back now, lips parted wider. “glad we’re on the same page.”

and then she drops down harder, hips smacking against him with a loud slap and he chokes, his nails digging into her skin like a silent prayer. and the worst part? her laugh that follows.

because she knows—she knows he’s already gone.

her leg slides up slowly, foot planting on the mattress for better leverage, and god—he feels it. deep. the new angle makes her gasp, her back arching just slightly as her fingers dig into the sheets on either side of her thighs for balance.

“oh—” she breathes out, surprised, satisfied, smug all at once, “there it is.”

jimin curses under his breath, hands flying to her hips again as she rocks down, grinding right where it makes her whimper. she rolls her hips in that angle again, a little slower this time, testing the friction, and she shudders when it hits perfectly again.

he watches her from below, fully wrecked, completely mesmerized by the way her body moves—like she’s trying to ruin him on purpose. which… she probably is.

"you like that?" he manages, his voice low, a rasp barely holding on. "mm, of course you do. look at you."

she shoots him a look over her shoulder, smug and flushed, sweat already beading at her temples. “don’t talk,” she murmurs, breath hitching as she does it again, deeper this time, the sound of her skin on his echoing softly through the room. “just… take it.”

“god,” he growls, hands sliding up her back like he’s not sure where to touch first, “you’re gonna fuckin’ kill me.”

she smiles, that wicked little smile again, completely in control.

“that’s the idea.”

she doesn’t even mean to let go like that—doesn’t plan on it, doesn’t brace herself—but it hits so suddenly, so completely, that all she can do is ride the wave.

jimin’s name falls from her lips like a prayer and a curse, drawn-out and broken as her thighs tighten around him, trembling hard enough that it makes her hips stutter. she grips the sheets like they’re the only thing anchoring her to earth, forehead dropping forward with a choked breath.

her walls pulse around him, soaking and snug, and he feels it all.

“fuck—baby…” he hisses through clenched teeth, jaw tightening as he bucks up into her, losing his rhythm and any remaining sanity.

she’s still moving, slow and instinctive, chasing the last traces of pleasure. the slick sound between them only gets wetter, more shameless, her thighs trembling with each little shift of his hips that makes her twitch.

and then he’s gone too.

he lets out a strained groan, hands locked around her waist, holding her in place as he thrusts up once, twice—deep and desperate—before he stills completely, head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut as he finishes, unraveling beneath her with a helpless growl.

they stay like that for a second. wrecked. breathless. the only sounds left are the heavy inhales, the soft creak of the bed springs, and the messy heartbeat in both of their ears.

she leans forward just slightly, back still arched, hair clinging to her skin.

“…well,” she pants, eyes still half-closed but lips curling faintly, “that was—”

“don’t say it,” he warns, voice gravelled and wrecked.

she snorts, tossing her hair over one shoulder. “—educational.”

he groans like she’s stabbed him, but his hands don’t leave her waist. not yet.

his tongue moves with a kind of practiced cruelty—confident and devastating, like he knows exactly what he’s doing and loves watching her squirm because of it. every flick, every slow circle, every sudden dip has her gasping, thighs twitching around his head.

the obscene wet sounds echo off the walls of his room, loud and shameless in the quiet aftermath of their earlier frenzy. it’s filthy, the way he licks into her—slurping noises paired with the soft, involuntary please she breathes out without realizing.

her hand flies to his hair, gripping tight, anchoring herself. “fuck,” she hisses when he flattens his tongue and drags it slowly upward, his hands now firm on her hips, holding her still even as she tries to ride his face with every roll of her pelvis.

his groan vibrates against her, and she feels it everywhere.

“so loud for me,” he says with a smug sort of murmur, his voice muffled against her, breath hot and humid. “you’re gonna make me think you like me or something.”

she throws her head back with a frustrated laugh, the kind that comes right before another moan slips out. she hates how good he is at this—hates how her body gives away everything she refuses to say.

“shut up,” she pants, yanking gently at his hair, but she doesn’t push him away. not even close.

in fact, she pulls him closer.

the knocking turns into pounding—loud, insistent, angry.

“what the fuck,” she mutters breathlessly, sitting up and scrambling to grab her clothes from where they’d been haphazardly discarded on the floor. her legs are still shaky, her head still spinning, and now she’s trying to pull her shirt over her head while catching her breath and not thinking about how close she was. again.

jimin curses low under his breath, dragging on a pair of sweats and tossing her the hoodie closest to him, which smells like him in the most annoying way possible. he runs a hand through his hair, already halfway to the door, jaw clenched.

“stay here,” he says, not even looking back as he walks down the hall.

“yeah, that’ll go well,” she mutters, fixing her hair in the reflection of his TV screen, still flustered and pissed off.

he opens the door with that casual swagger he always has—like he’s too cool to be surprised—but the smirk dies instantly when he sees Rowan standing there, arms crossed, face thunderous.

“oh,” jimin says flatly, blocking the entrance with his body. “rowan. didn’t know you were stopping by.”

“clearly,” she snaps, eyes narrowing. “who’s here?”

“no one,” he lies without flinching, but his eyes betray a flicker of guilt.

rowan tries to push past him but he stays firm in the doorway.

“move, jimin.”

“no.”

“why not?”

“because I don’t owe you that anymore.”

that makes her pause—just for a second—but then her jaw tightens. “so you are screwing around. you could’ve just said you weren’t interested anymore instead of ghosting me like a child.”

meanwhile, from down the hall, (y/n) tiptoes closer, barefoot, hoodie too big on her, peeking around the corner just as she hears the tone of rowan’s voice rise.

“wow,” she mutters under her breath, biting her lip. she knows she shouldn’t be listening. she knows. but something about hearing another girl refer to him like he was hers stings.

jimin sighs, running a hand down his face. “i wasn’t trying to ghost you, i was trying to avoid this—you showing up uninvited, assuming there’s still something going on.”

“so there isn’t?”

he hesitates. the worst possible moment to hesitate.

rowan scoffs. “you know what? save it, park. i hope she’s worth it.”

and she storms off, letting the door swing shut behind her.

jimin leans against it for a second, exhaling slowly. “fuck.”

he turns—and sees (y/n) standing in the hallway, arms crossed, one eyebrow raised.

she doesn’t look mad exactly. but she does look... disappointed.

“so that’s your usual type, huh?” she says quietly, no venom in it. just curiosity wrapped in sarcasm.

he blinks. “i didn’t ask her to come.”

“yeah, but you didn’t tell her to stop, either.”

and with that, she turns around, heading back toward the bedroom—grabbing her bag off the floor.

“(y/n),” he calls after her.

“don’t,” she cuts him off, voice calm but distant. “you don’t owe me anything, right? just like you told her.”

he swallows hard, watching her leave, and for the first time in a while, jimin isn’t sure what to say.

quietly, always. cigarettesuga

[hard-core-super-star]

cards on the table [L.Calderu]

pairing: lilia calderu x vampire!reader

summary: the morning after, you can't bring yourself to leave lilia again. instead, you let the desire you still feel for her take over.

warnings: SMUT, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT -> morning sex; mommy kink galore [because it's lilia, duh]; SO much biting [because vampires duh]; desperate switch!lilia is SO important to me; grinding; making out; unholy uses of magic; fingering; praise kink go brrr; lilia's boobs deserve their own warning fr; plot and feelings randomly thrown in because i can't write porn without it; so much banter

wordcount: 2.6k

a/n: HELLO! this part took longer than i planned but i'm really happy with how it turned out. i couldn't write vampire!reader without throwing some smut in before more plot 😌i'm having a lot of fun writing for lilia so i hope i've delivered. as always, my inbox is open and i hope you enjoy <3

part one |

* * * * * * *

When your eyes open, the first thing you see is the way the sunlight bounces off the ceiling. Unlike what most vampire myths said, you weren't afraid of the sun. At least not any more than a mortal with secrets made far too vulnerable by the light.

The second thing you notice once your eyes focus and your mind starts clearing is the comfortable weight settled on top of you. Reality's quick to crash into you after that.

For some reason, you had expected Lilia to be up and about by the time morning came. Even though she had made fun of you for wanting to run away, she was the same way. Actually, she tended to be worse. But of course, she would never admit it, preferring instead to throw the blame on you.

Seeing her like this, though, soft and vulnerable, reminds you why you hated leaving her in the first place. While you knew it had to be done, it didn't change how awful you felt about it. How lonely the years that have passed have been.

"How are you already so tense?" Her words break the silence and draw a sigh out of you. It really isn't fair how easy she can read you, even now.

"I'm just not used to waking up under a beautiful woman," you reply, the corners of your mouth tugging up into a lazy smile.

"I find that very hard to believe, sweetheart."

You suppress the urge to laugh and instead give in to the easy atmosphere. "Ouch, are you calling me a whore, Madame Calderu?"

The eyeroll you earn yourself is more worth it. "I'm calling you charming, my dear."

"Oh, my mistake."

She laughs, the sound rich and soft and capable of turning all your thoughts to mush in a second. "I've missed this."

You know what she means, but you don't allow yourself to linger on her words too much. A part of you feels undeserving. It wasn't like you didn't have good reason for leaving and yet…the guilt threatens to swallow you whole.

"Insulting me?" You ask as your fingers draw random patterns on her back. The fabric of her robe is thin enough for you to feel the warmth of her skin beneath it.

With a soft sigh, she lifts herself enough so she can stare down at you. The wrinkles in the corners of her eyes are as soft as her smile. "Laughing with you."

It's impossible to ignore the truth in her tone. "Yeah, I guess that's nice too."

"You guess?" She responds, attempting to sound offended. It doesn't work very well, though, since she's still grinning too hard. "You're a hard woman to please, my darling."

It's impossible to stop yourself from laughing at that. "You of all people should know that's not true."

Instead of instantly replying, she allows her eyes to drift down your face, lingering on your lips. You're not sure if she knows exactly what she's doing, but you do know you can't stop yourself from craving more.

And you can't even be mad at yourself for it.

You never even tried to lie about your feelings for her. Even after the visions, the prophecy, the knowledge that she'll be your undoing, you still love her. You've always loved her. How can you fight against that part of your fate?

One of your hands comes up, fingers slowly grazing against the side of her neck. The only thing left of your bite is the memory and yet she still shivers. Still leans into your touch.

"y/n," she whispers, her eyes fluttering closed for a few seconds. "You have no idea what you're doing to me."

"I find that very hard to believe," you reply, your voice just as soft as hers.

She lets out a soft huff of air, something halfway to a chuckle, before you steal whatever teasing words were on the tip of her tongue away with a kiss.

Despite how strong your longing for her has been, you still surprise yourself. You almost assumed you'd walk out of her life again without doing exactly what you'd been thinking about since you left.

Clearly, you're a fool in more than one way.

Your fingers move back to tangle in her hair and even though you try to keep yourself in check, you can't. You want more. Need her in ways that scare you and excite you at the same time.

Lilia pulls away from the kiss, her heaving breaths fanning across your lips. "I missed this too."

"I missed you," you admit, your face warming up exponentially.

It's dangerous to say it out loud, but there's no use in hiding. Not when her eyes can see everything you don't say. Everything you feel without meaning to.

"Yeah?" Her head tilts to the side, wide pupils scanning your face. "Show me."

You grin, sharp teeth poking out from under your top lip. "Gladly."

Your hands travel down her body in an instant and your fingers grasp the fabric of her robe. A laugh escapes her as you hurry to slip the garment off of her, shifting around until your lips can meet the exposed skin of her shoulders.

"Impatient as always, little one?" She questions, using her words to distract you from the way she's moving above you. It's subtle, but you can't ignore the feeling of her heat pressing against your thigh.

"Only when it comes to you."

You let your fangs graze her skin, dragging along her shoulder blade until she's shivering above you. The urge to bite her is far stronger than it should have been considering how much you'd drank the night before. Then again, your thirst for her has always been stronger than anything else. Including your common sense.

"Such a flatter," she mutters.

Her hands move to her robe, helping you get the rest of it off, while your attention is captivated by her warm skin. You sink your teeth into her shoulder, not hard enough to actually draw blood, but enough to feel the connection that thrums beneath your veins.

"And so eager too," Lilia hums.

There's no way you can deny her claim. Especially with the way your hands start exploring the newly revealed contours of her body. Your fingers trace the lines of her muscles, mapping out the freckles you can't see but know are there.

As much as it pains you, you remove your fangs from her without drawing any blood, focusing on her hunger instead of your own. "I'm not the only one, I think you're soaking my pants."

"Oh, very funny." Her voice lacks humor but her eyes dance with a mischief she was sure she'd lost years ago. "Maybe if you weren't so preoccupied with biting me, I wouldn't have to be doing all the work by myself."

"All the work- oh-"

Your question is answered by the way she shifts her hips, slowly grinding against your leg. One hand lands on her hip to steady her as she sits up slightly to get better friction. You move with her, rising into a slightly uncomfortable position just to latch your mouth onto her chest.

"There you go," she coos. "You remember what mama likes?"

You don't think you could forget if you tried.

Your lips wrap around one of her nipples, feeling it harden under your tongue. Her back arches into your touch and you can't stop yourself from letting your teeth graze her sensitive skin.

The noise she makes in response is more than enough of a reward, but then her hand tangles in your hair and pulls you closer. "Fuck, darling. You're so good for me."

Her whimpered praise sends sparks of electricity up your spine. Not even your own pleasure can distract you from your mission, though.

One hand stays on her hip, slowly guiding her movements when her hips stutter, and the other one comes up to toy with her other breast, lavishing both of her nipples with the attention you know she needs. If your mouth wasn't so busy, you would have teased her for how frantic her movements against you are.

And she was making fun of you for being eager.

"y/n," she whispers, her voice shaking almost as much as her thighs.

All you do is hum, biting down on her nipple just enough to hear her gasp. Her movements speed up and you double your efforts, flexing your thigh and pushing up into her as much as you can.

It makes you a little dizzy due to the proximity but you force your eyes to travel upward until you can take in the curve of her neck and her parted lips. The puffs of air she lets out sound more like whines than anything and you let them wash over you like a wave.

You wait until she starts muttering curses beneath her breath to move again. Your hand leaves her breast and glides down the front of her body, easily slipping under the waistband of her ruined underwear.

You detach yourself from her nipple only to trail kisses up the valley of her breasts. "Cum for me, mama, I know you need it."

Your fingers press against her swollen clit and you watch as her whole body shudders in response. It's the most beautiful sight you've seen in years.

You work her through her orgasm, feeling as she soaks your fingers and her underwear all in one go. It's sinful and delightful all at the same time.

When she slumps forward, worn and overly sensitive, you instantly wrap your arms around her waist and lie back against the couch once more. For a moment, it's like no time has passed at all. Like you managed to cheat both time and space just to be with each other.

As silly as it might be, you allow yourself the fantasy.

Your lips press against her temple as the two of you lay there, her head on your shoulder and her nose nuzzling your jaw. As hard as it is, you don't move. You don't dare break the moment.

Because you know once you do, you won't get to have her like this again.

The runes may be strong and the wards may pulse with life every time you make her heart skip a beat, but you're being hunted. And every second you spend with her only puts her in more danger.

You know that.

But then she's shifting again and her lips find yours and it's hard to think about anything else except her.

When she pulls away, you're both breathless, gripping onto each other like you're afraid you'll disappear. The helplessness that simmers beneath the surface is hidden well under desire and desperation, but you can still feel it. Thrumming to life after every kiss.

"You were so good for me, angel," she murmurs, almost like she doesn't want to risk breaking the moment by being too loud. "Let me make you feel good."

"Yes please," you reply as your arms wrap around her neck to keep her close.

To your surprise, she makes no move to make fun of you for how clingy you are and instead her arms move down your arms, caressing your skin like she's commiting every touch to memory. You don't doubt she is.

Once she reaches your shirt, she simply smirks down at you and with a flick of her wrists, your clothes dissapear. "Cute trick."

Lilia just raises an eyebrow at you, hovering over you with a borderline dangerous glint in her eyes. "Trick? Are you insulting my magic, little one?"

"Oh, I would never dare," you tease.

Of course, she doesn't believe you, and you honestly don't blame her.

"You just can't stop yourself from being a brat, can you?" Her question is completely rhetorical, especially considering her next idea.

She hovers above you, watching your face closely as one of her hands trails down your body to the heat eminating from between your legs. Her fingers part your folds, revealing your clit to her before she murmurs something ancient under her breath. You have no idea what she's doing…until you feel a sudden shock on your clit.

"Lilia-" you gasp, your thighs attempting to close.

She clicks her tongue in dissaproval as she lands a warning smack to your inner thigh. "Don't you dare close them, I'm just getting started."

Your cunt clenches around pure air at that and the pleasure sends another shock-like sensation through your cunt. You quickly realize you don't mind, though, as the pain morphs into unbelieable pleasure.

"Oh, fuck."

"You read my mind, baby."

You don't get anther second to react before two of her fingers are teasing your already sensitive clit, pressing down until your thighs shake and then moving down to gather your wetness on the tips.

She's absolutely playing with you and you can't find it in yourself to mind. Not when the way she toys with you feels so damn good.

"Please," you all but whimper. "More."

"Always so needy, it's adorable."

You whimper again and she finally takes pity on you, sliding those same two fingers into your wet cunt. It only takes a few thrusts and another well placed shock for you to near the edge.

"Mama- please-"

"Already?" Despite her teasing tone, she can't hide her excitment. "You wanna cum for me, sweet girl?"

You desperately nod, your hips bucking up into her without meaning to as you chase your incoming orgasm. "Yes, need it, please."

"I've missed hearing you beg like that. Go ahead, baby, don't hold back."

She doesn't have to tell you twice.

Your body instantly reacts to her, clenching uncontrollably around her fingers while her thumb plays with your clit. You cry out as your orgasm crashes into you and you're left whining and shaking underneath her.

She leans down to pepper kisses across your face, her tongue darting out to lap up the few tears that escape the corners of your eyes. "Always so sweet for me."

All you can manage are a few incoherent mumbles and she chuckles as she removes her fingers from between your legs. Another incantation is mumbled and the ache on your clit subsides.

"Better?" She asks, shifting around once more so she's on her side, arms bringing you closer to her.

You nod and mirror her, tucking your head beneath her chin and wrapping yourself around her warmth. "Did you melt my brain so I wouldn't leave?"

"Not on purpose," she replies with a laugh. "Does that mean you'll stay?"

You allow the question to hang in the air for a few seconds. There's nothing you want more than to stay. Not only are you technically still injured, you'll have to drink from her again soon or risk growing weak once more.

You know the risks, the ones that go beyond simply being a vampire in love with a witch. Between the Guild, your family, and the prophecy that looms over both of your heads…staying with her will do nothing besides bring you more pain.

And yet, the answer forms before you can stop it.

"Yes. But only because I'm still hungry."

Lilia knows you're lying, but she doesn't call you out on it. Instead, she simply holds you closer, her fingers tracing the area where you'd been stabbed by the Guild's hunter. "Just give me a few minutes, then we can get up."

You know she's lying too, but all you do is smile and burrow into her chest.

* * * * * * *

taglist: @p00ki3-m0nst3r

[mscherub]

Hey there ! Hope you have a great day/afternoon/night.

I was wondering if you could write how floyd, rook and jamil would react to a reader that is caring and playful but can be stubborn and impulsive when frustrated or angry, acting on her strong will without always thinking ahead.

You can add things if you feel like it too 😉

Thanks ❤️

Hey, my lovely! I love the idea of this because like this describes my personality so well!!! (Squealing and just happy cause of the request <3)

Anyways, I tried, and I took long because you unfortunately caught me on a bad week that was filled with nothing but stress for me and no motivation to write, BUT I GOT IT OUT NOW, LIKE A WEEK LATER—

If it’s bad, I apologize I was kinda out of it while writing 🥲

(Nothin against u, my lovely, I love everyone who requests something I just…I was busssyyyyy, but it’s ok, I’m getting back into the groove. AHH ENOUGH YAPPING—)

Stubborn then Sweet

Reader is gender neutral, Romantic or Platonic, you pick!

Characters!: Floyd, Rook, and Jamil

Tags!: Headcanons plus short fics <3

Warnings!: Swearing, my writing 😔

Floyd 🫧:

Caring and playful nature:

Finds your caring nature funny and odd, especially when it's targeted towards someone like him out of all people

It's just so cute when little Shrimpy tries to calm him down when he's in one of his moods himself, and he can't help but actually find it helpful to wind down with it

He likes that he can go to you and just blab on about whatever and bug you, and you’ll actually listen. He craves it, so— welp, he’s all over you

And you can be playful too on top of that? You're number 3 on his list for favorite people…Jade and Azul are obviously before you

He likes to play pranks on you, and you do them back, it's mutual with your emotions sometimes and it's nice for Floyd. He rarely ever feels bored with you

You give up so many things for him. Don’t you know that’s a sort of weakness Shrimpy? Fine. I guess he’ll just have to protect you and always be around you

(Rip you)

Ticked off mood:

Finds it funny how impulsive you get. It's really entertaining to watch someone who was just scolding him for being so reckless to then being reckless yourself. It’s like you two share moods swings or something

But now you’re in a mood…so now he’s also in a mood. Domino effect. Shrimpy’s mad, then so is Floyd. Just how it works 🤷‍♀️

He’ll be ticked off with you over whatever it is, unless you’re mad at him, then he’ll just be all snarky back at you.

If you two even attempt to interact in your little moody fits, then they’ll be filled with yelling and bickering galore

You will always have to resolve a situation, but Floyd will eventually give in since you do make him happy

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Mmmm, Shrimpy!” Floyd singsongs as he comes into the lounge of Ramshackle, completely uninvited. You jump and look up from your papers you were working on, giving him a look that conveyed something on the lines of “the hell are you doing here?”

You could tell he was bored already, his demeanor not being too hard to decipher. He walks over to you and flops down on the couch, wrapping his arms around and squeezing.

“I’m bored. Let’s go beat some people up for Azul. It’d be fun!” He murmurs against your shoulder. “You can just watch. But it’s more fun if you’re there.”

“Not now, Floyd. Not ever really. If people owe Azul money you don’t have to beta them up...plus I have…homework.” You sigh out as his arms constrict you even more.

“What? You always have time for me. Cmonnnn, for me? You’ll make me cry, Shrimpy.” He pouts and nuzzles his head against yours.

You’ve had this homework for about a week. You’ve been pushing it off for other tasks you needed to get done and him annoying now was not helping one bit with getting it out of sight and out of mind.

“Not today. Aren’t you supposed to work a shift?” You grumble, your hands going to his arms and trying to pry him off of you.

“Yes. But I don’t feel like it. I came all this way and you’re trying to kick me out? You’re so boooorrriiiinggggg.” He huffs.

You turn your head to look at him. “Look. I don’t have time for this. I need to get my work done. You can go and take your ass somewhere else so I can have peace and quiet to do this!”

He’s stunned for a second, then he smiles. “Aweee, looky, why are you so mad? You can just do it another time—“

“Floyd. Leave. Get out of here. I. Have. Shit. To. Do.” You say sternly, finally managing to wiggle out of his arms.

Bickering and insults are thrown back and forth and he eventually goes quiet. He huffs and glares at you as he walks out, his feet stamping against the ground.

You can’t help but feel bad for what you did, you felt like you went maybe a bit too far, so after you finished your work, you decided to swing by Octavinelle and apologize.

He whines about how unfair it all was, but he accepts your apology. He gets it in a way.

You’re stuck with him for the rest of the time now. Have fun.

“Shrimpy. You’re so silly.”

Rook 🏹:

Caring and playful nature:

Well, he finds it quiet enjoyable to say the least

He loves the attention you give him and how you almost baby him in a way. It’s just adorable and also beautiful in its own ways

That sweet look you give him makes him swoon right on the spot. You’re truly a work of art in his eyes, dare he say that you have just a tad bit of shine to you that Vil has to him. He means it, even if it sounds harsh…

If he pops up out of nowhere, you gently scold him and tell him don’t do that, then you go and look him over before deeming he’s alright

He finds you attentiveness to his well being peculiar but he appreciates it so much. Guess what, he finds that so beautiful, obviously

But what is this? You dare try and be coy right back at him, a hunter? Now he’s even more immersed

You try and get back at him for frightening you sometimes, trying to cross his path and pop out of nowhere like he seamlessly does

He finds it just so cute

Ticked off mood:

Cue the many “Ou la la’s!” He’s surprised by your “outbursts”

But, he does find them quite endearing to watch play out, especially if they’re targeted towards him. The pray appears to be mad…

He likes to see this side of you as well like the creep he is and he thinks it’s just as beautiful, or perhaps even more with that spark in your eye and you acting on your will without even thinking of the consequences

You’re so unrefined in this state, so out of it, the true testament to beauty—

He loves it. Lives for it. Provokes it out of you more so then Floyd would, believe it or not

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

You’re just causally walking back to class with Grim, well, Grim is yapping away about certain mundane topics that are particularly bothering him more so today than any other day.

It’s annoying, the unceasing whining spilling from his mouth, but you’re fine! Just ignore him then maybe he’ll shut up…or he’ll talk louder. Guess he’ll do that.

“Grimmy, look, as much as I care for you, I honestly really don’t care for—“

Rook just appears basically from thin air and smiles wide. You lock eyes with him and let out a yelp as you back up and trip over an uneven tile in the pathway.

Rook, being him, catches you, but you smack him away and yell at him, spitting out strings of curses and insults.

“What the fuck?! Why did you do that? Get off of me you stupid— I hate you!” You huff as you manage to finally stand up and glare at him.

His smirk falters ever so slightly as his gaze on you softens. You knew you mate have said some bad things just because of that.

“I…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. You just…scared the absolute shit out of me. Did I hit you too hard? Please tell me if I did? I didn’t mean it I promise. I just got scared, and I was distracted and in my head—“ your attitude switches up almost instantly.

Rook l lives for this, though, the way your honeyed words just stream out. It’s too beautiful! And the way you apologizes to earnestly! Ahhh, makes him just swoon!

“Hey…are you ok?”

“Why, of course, Trickster.” He smiles even more brightly now. “My apologizes for frightening you so. That was not my intention, though that burst of passionate emotion was absolutely beauté! Magnifique!” He chuckles and keeps strict eye contact with you that’s actually pretty unsettling.

“Sure…thanks? So…you’re ok?”

“Splendid, Prefect.”

You nod your head and give him a small glare before you look back at Grim who’s cowering behind a bench, his ears flattened and his tail swaying as he also glares heavily at Rook.

“Yea…ok then. I’ll see ya later, Rook. Be safe.”

“Such caring ways. Your personality is truly gorgeous.”

Jamil 🐍:

Caring and playful nature:

This is oddly new for him at least, I mean isn’t he supposed to be the one who’s supposed to care. Sure it may be fabricated some most, but this is awkward…

He loves it though, secretly, the way that you check in on him and offer to help with all his duties. He eats it the fuck up

But there’s also this nagging feeling that he shouldn’t have your care or worry, like he’s not deserving of it. But, like mentioned, he enjoys it

He thinks you’re too caring in some ways and it ticks him off sometimes. He can carry himself, he has been, so lay off a bit for the future

But don’t stop…

you like to be playful. What? Does he have another Kalim? Sevens bless him if you try anything

He isn’t quite fond of your playful side in hindsight, but he’ll warm up to it since you do it because it means you’re just acting the way you do when you’re relaxed

He’ll let it slide

Ticked off mood:

He’s actually irked a little by the switch ups and he’s not so fond of them. He mainly tries to be perfect as to not make people mad so he’s kinda confused as to why you’re being like that, especially if that anger is targeted towards him

I mainly think he wouldn’t do anything to make you mad— besides overworking himself…

He’ll basically just try to avoid you

He doesn’t care that much or find your outbursts amusing like the others maybe do, thus why he just tries to avoid you and stay clear of your path if he’s not the one the emotions are directed to

If he is the one you’re mad at…he’ll just try and deescalate the situation, possibly make it worse with snippy comebacks, or just completely up and ignore you. One of those options, if not all three, he’ll do

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Jamil!”

He tenses up, his back muscles going taught as he stops stirring whatever he was cooking in the large pot at the moment. You burst through the kitchen doors, phone held in one hand as you finally take a breath in to calm your nerves.

“Why does Kalim keep spamming me about how you haven’t been doing well? Look I’m just…the calls are annoying. So what’s going on? Mind explaining.” You huff. Your shoes click against the linoleum tiles of the kitchen as you take a spot next to him. You lean against the counter and cross your arms.

Jamil has been overworking…again. But that’s not really anything new. You’ve tried to school his habits before but to no avail, it’s like it’s engraved into him or something. Kalim isn’t really helping all that much. One time he overheard a conversation between you and Jamil and he’s been informing you every time he notices something odd and or off with Jamil.

“Kalim was literally blowing up my phone. Y’know, if you took care of yourself a bit better than maybe I wouldn’t be spammed when Kalim sees you even yawn.” You narrow your eyes at him, your gaze critical.

“That’s not my fault. If you didn’t bring it up in the first place around him he wouldn’t be doing anything. You’re pointing fingers at the wrong person.” He hisses back, giving you and equal glare back.

You let out a puff of air and let your shoulders slump forwards. “Sorry. Look, I care. A lot. And I may get mad but…just put in a little more effort here to just stay alive a bit better each day.” You murmur.

Jamil’s gaze dies down and softens into a ponderous look as he puts all his attention back to the pot that’s steaming.

“You shouldn’t care.”

“But I do…”

“It’s kinda stupid. I can carry my own just fine. Calm down. You’re just overreacting over something so little.” He shakes his head.

“Everyone needs a little help every now and then. I’m just…kindly reminding you.” You shrug.

“If bursting in here and blaming me for Kalim being a nuisance is a “friendly reminder,” then I’m scared to see what other things you’ve got to say.” He sighs.

“Don’t get all smart with me. You know what I meant. Anyways…seriously. Save both of our asses here. Just go to sleep a bit earlier than usual. It’ll make a difference.” You smile at him fondly, that look he’s grown to have a love hate relationship with.

He rolls his eyes and finally lets his muscles destress. “You’re so stupid it’s sickening.”

“Well, at least I’m stupid enough to care.”

WAHHH, hey, how’s it going. I’m done. Feel like I got off track a bit with Jamil’s, but oh well, THANKS FOR READING AS ALWAYS <333

Master List

Please don’t steal or copy any of my work! You may, however, reblog if you’d want to!

Pictures belong to Disney Twisted Wonderland but are edited by me :)

[trinityobsessesovatings]

DOMESTICITY~! {ARCANE HEADCANONS}

ARCANE CHARACTERS IN A DOMESTIC SETTING!

characters included; Caitlyn, Vi, and Mel

WARNINGS: me being a slut for domestic shit, lowercase, cursing, maybe miniscule punctuation usage, slightly suggestive (?), slight angst at some parts (?), LONG AF, and me just gushing for domesticity

hello! hello! i’ve been gone for a WHILE, i for the longest time have been wanting to write but two of my buttons on my laptop keyboard had broke 🥲 BUT i finally got my bluetooth keyboard and now i'm back!!! might be very long because i’m weak for these kinds of concepts! some might be longer than others. 

WOW WOW WOW WOW this one is a bit A LOT longer than my last one!

EXTRA! EXTRA! READ ALL ABOUT IT!: for those who don’t know all of my writings, if a “reader” is involved they are most definitely female/have female anatomy! 💛

enjoy! 🥰

////////

caitlyn

LOVES HER LITTLE FAMILY DOWN!!

in the sheriff position

so she’s VERY BUSY but will always try and make time for her little family 🥰

DEFINITELY has twins!!

a boy and girl set to be more specific

her girl is definitely named cassandra in honor of her mother

i think her son would be named something fancy as well; callum? caspian? shit maybe even charlie! 🤷🏾‍♀️

i very much headcanon that the reproductive health care and science is VERY advanced in arcane universe

advanced hexstrap 🥴

so your kids are literally half of you and half of her

DOES NOT BELIEVE IN PUTTING YOUR CHILD IN FRONT OF A TABLET

that and it drives her crazy hearing ms. rachel repeatedly (speaking from someone who has a younger cousin who crashes tf out if ms. rachel is off) 

she tried it for a little bit after getting the suggestion from both vi and jayce

but it's a definite NO in her book

NEOW it’s not like she won’t ever let her kids use the tablet to watch kids channels and videos

she DOES they just have schedule and SHE IS AN ACTUAL PARENT WHO MONITORS ELECTRONIC TIME

her kids WILL not be exposed to shit they aren’t ready for

some of her favorite moments with her family is the days she's off work and she lets the twins help her with baking sweets

kids are covered in flour

giggles galore

you’re watching on with a fond smile

everyone helping decorate the sweet treats

just domestic bliss out the ass

now for some serious stuff…

y'all know how I said her daughter would be named cassandra…

YUH in the beginning she DEFINITELY had a problem with ✨favoritism✨ 

caspian (we gonna go ahead and name baby boy caspian) was for sure feeling left out at times a bit of a velcro baby with you because of it

you confront cait about and she genuinely didn't know she was doing it

fixed that shit real quick it took a bit of time rebuild caspian’s trust but after a little while and a lot of work everyone like this🤞🏾fr

I would say caitlyn is authoritative parent honestly

just the right amount of nurturing, responsive, and supportive but she knows where to draw the line and set them boundaries

like yeah she wants her kids to have structure… but she also wants them to have independence

VERY COMFORTABLE IN SAYING “No”

is a supporter of having kids sit at the table and write "I will ___" "I won't do ___" 100x and if she's really mad front and back TWICE

PLEASE TELL Y'ALL KNOW WHAT PUNISHMENT I'M TALKING ABOUT 😭

also very open to hearing her kids side of things

but you know… she has clear rules and expectations for her twins

vi

now would y’all hate me for saying after years of being a reasonable crash out… she would prefer to be a stay at home mom 🫣

like i can’t get out of my head how i just want this girl happy and thriving

SO FOR ME JINX AINT DEAD!!! WHYYYYY BECAUSE THIS IS MY WORK! NOW!

i feel vi would have boys for sure, triples specifically; khai (oldest), elio (middle), and ballar (youngest) ALL IDENTICAL TOO

not even gonna front with y'all… deadass would have trouble telling her boys apart at times

vi would be in the middle of lecturing who she thinks is elio but the entire time she's been lecturing poor khai who’s been minding his business the whole

elio is off to the side confused because vi keeps calling his brother…him??

khai is looking at vi like she’s insane and has lost her mine orange slice frozen in air as he was snacking on his fruit

then ballar who is so used to vi calling them the wrong names is like: “mama, that’s khai.” 😕

it was even worse when you insisted on dressing the three of them up in identical outfits for the first few months of their lives

she had to put a stop to that because really thought she was going insane

would also lowkey feel like she’s a bad parent because she couldn’t tell the difference between her boys

literally in awe with how you’re able to tell them apart

as they got older though and started developing their own personalities and styles it became a lot easier

a big believer in ms. rachel… LOVES MS. RACHEL DOWN

ms. rachel is her girl ON JANNA SHE IS

when she's behind on chores, sits her boys in the playpen in front of the tv and turns on ms. rachel to get housework done

some of her favorite moments is cooking and having dinner with her family 

isha and jinx are invited OF COURSE

i headcanon vi as a damn good cook SHE CAN’T BAKE but she can cook

teaching her kids how to chop veggies with those child friendly knife that can actually cut food but won’t injure the child

teaching her kids recipes

i have this small little headcanon that vi writes down recipes so she can hand them down to her children 🥹

now for some serious stuff…

now we know our girl vi is a retired crashout so she has a temper

NOW I'M NOT SAYING SHES LAYING HANDS ON HER KIDS❗❗

but there are moments where she hits them with classic;

“because i said so!”

“i’m the adult and you’re the child!”

or plain out just yelling out of frustration and anger

she always feels EXTREMELY guilty afterwards 

but after sitting down with her and talking with her she always comes back and doing so much better with controlling her emotions

when the triples were babies she was FOR SURE had an attachment style of parenting;

the boys sleeping in cots in that same room as you guys

always having them near her

skin to skin bonding as soon as they were born

as soon as SIDs aren't an issue the boys are in the bed with you until you have to tell her “hey they need to be in their own rooms now.”

as the kids get older develops more of a positive parenting style

very caring supportive and sensitive with her kids

like instead of focusing on the negative her kids do she focuses on the positive of what her kids do

for example; y’all remember when powder lost all of their loot in the first episode and instead of being mad she went “all that matters is that you’re okay.”

yeah like that

sets boundaries with her kids that supports their interests

does all she can to avoid punishment which in turn lowkey makes you the bad guy

but if need be she will take things away, give time outs, and worst of all grounding

cries in your arms after she has to ground the triplets after they get into a fight with some other kids

she also encourages her kids to be curious, have empathy for others, and just for them to be children

mel

MEL IS A GOOD MAMA!

I SAID IT!

i also feel she would be more of a one and done

mel 100% gives birth to her little twin fr 😌🤞🏾

all the good genes from her SHOVED INTO THAT LITTLE ANGEL SHE GIVES BIRTH TO

im talking gold freckles, eye color, perfect hair and all

DID YOU 🫵🏾 EVEN TRY!!!???

chile anyway

she’s still apart of the council y’all… but trust if need be… she pulling up with caitlyn for another 2v1 😈

has a little girl that she treats and dotes on

that’s her little princess

her little aurelia (which means golden child/golden one) 

takes her to work with her sometimes

definitely has one of those cute cozy baby carriers on and her baby always with her

isn’t really fond of sitting her child in front of a tv but does vibe with gracie’s corner

but she would much prefer reading to her child or doing other activities to embrace her child’s imagination and creativity and knowledge

her little princess is always dressed in the finest fashion and wearing name brand clothes

you lowkey don’t get it because… aurelia isn’t even gonna be able to fit those clothes in couple months

she tells you respectfully mind your business and shut your mouth 😌

“yes ma’am”

happy wife, happy life 🫡

mel’s favorite thing to do with her family… FAMILY SELF CARE DAYS

i'm talking waking up early because y’all got appointments all throughout the day!

first thing y’all waking up and taking off cold sleep masks

a nice breakfast out at y’all favorite cute breakfast spot

now y’all gotta go to your early nails appointments

right after that the nice calm family spa

after that you guys gotta head to your hair appointments

then y’all end the day with a nice dinner out 

serious tings neow!!!

now y’all know how i’ve been saying mel calls aurelia ‘“her little princess”

she lets her get away with EVERYTHING and ANYTHING

i feel it would come from her not wanting to have too many high expectations on aurelia like her mother had on her

and that leads to MASSIVE spoiling sprees 😬

it also leads to her stick up for her aurelia even when she is deadass in the wrong 🤦🏾‍♀️

it would get to a point where mel would get angry with you for giving aurelia any type of punishment

dare i say most the disagreements in your marriage came from you different views when it come to discipline for aurelia

like i’m talking arguments so bad y’all were sleeping in separate rooms 

which means FOR A LONG time she was a permissive parent

lowkey… she would be a mother-in-law from hell NO KIDDING

but back on her parenting type..

which is a mix of permissive/attachment and then when you guys had a serious talk

you informed her of trying to change her ways and she starting getting into more of a positive parenting style like vi

when it comes to mel’s attachment parenting;

constant skin to skin contact right after she was born

she walked around with aurelia in the baby carrier

had aurelia sleeping in the middle of both of you

constantly had her in her arms

aurelia finally had her own room at the age of 3

now mel’s permissive parenting;

mel is a really nurturing and emotionally responsive parent

but didn’t believe in punishing aurelia or putting her foot down with her

which ultimately lead to aurelia having poor self regulation skills

when sitting down with mel to talk with her about how you both were parenting very differently and not in a good way…

that didn’t exactly go well..

it lead to another serious fight because aurelia would act one way with mel and act completely different with you and no one else because she knew she could get away with pretty much anything with mommy mel 

the fight was so bad you stayed with your parents for a few days

so that meant mel was with aurelia 25/8

that’s when she started getting a glimpse of what everyone trying to tell her

because at some point in time keeping up that little princess facade for mel… aurelia would get tired of that and true colors show

after that you and mel sat down with one another and came to an agreement and the three of y'all went to family counseling 💛 

mel is starting to understand that she can parent her daughter without plain spoiling... but she did make a habit of it so it's something that she has to work on breaking

////////

hope you enjoyed! ○( ＾皿＾)っ Hehehe…

[jellybelly-may]

❝𝐓𝐨𝐤𝐑𝐞𝐯 𝐒𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬!❞

Kawata Twins (with a younger sibling!) [platonic!]

"gah! stop it nahoya! souya help me!!"

cw: smiley being smiley

✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.

General Hcs:

If you think the Haitani’s were protective

Think again

The twins will need to know your whereabouts, locations, or heck even escort to wherever you wanna go

As the youngest sibling, you’re the precious baby sibling of the Kawata twins, and they take their role seriously

always on high alert when it comes to your safety

calls you “Squirt” because you’re the youngest and smallest

The twins will play harmless pranks on you like switching places to see if you can tell them apart

You’ve gotten so good at recognizing the subtle differences that you can always tell who’s who, much to their frustration and to your delight

ofc there’s always some sibling rivalry between the three of you

video games, racing bikes, or even who can eat the most ramen 

You name it, you’ve done it

movie nights! the three of you have a tradition of watching movies together on weekends

Smiley always picks action movies, Angry prefers emotional dramas, and you’re stuck in the middle, trying to find a compromise

In the end, you usually end up watching a mix, with lots of popcorn and commentary from Smiley and loud yips from your pet dog pomeranian (check smiley’s official character book about the dog)

Matching accessories!!!

The three of you have matching bracelets that Smiley insisted on getting.

it’s a silent reminder that your brothers are always with you, even when they’re not physically around

✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.

Nahoya/ Smiley 😆

teasing galore from this a-hole

loves to tease you endlessly, especially about your height or how you look up to him (literally and figuratively)

despite his constant teasing, you know it’s all in good fun

if someone else tries to tease you, he’s the first to step in

definitely has a soft spot for his siblings

shows it through his protective actions, like checking in on you more often than needed

probably forces you to learn how to ride a motorcycle “in case of emergency!” he says :D 

laughs at you when you stall the bike 

also probably teaches you how to fight 

“for fun!” :D 

✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.

Souya/ Angry 😡

the one to patch you up! surprisingly good at it too!

when nahoya is teasing you, souya tries to defend you

but ends up getting teased as well

like nahoya, souya is protective of you too

he may not be most talkative compare to his brother

angry quietly leaves snacks or small gifts in your room when you’re feeling down

or he will silently sit with until you feel better 

souya’s has a knack for fooling people too!

especially you 

“who ate my ramen? :c ”

“probably ‘hoya, saw him going through the pantry >:c ”

with his serious expression, you always fall for it 

until you notice his minor gesture he does when he lies

asshole

don’t be mad though! he buys back more snacks for you to replace the ‘missing’ food

✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.✧˖°.

Bonus scene:

Movie nights at the Kawata household were always...lively.

The three (more like two) are in full-on bickering mode as you all scramble to prepare snacks and argue over what to watch. In the middle of it all, PomPom, your family's Pomeranian sits on the couch, tilting its head in curiosity at the chaos unfolding around it.

Nahoya grins widely, holding up two action DVD's.

“C’mon, let’s just watch something exciting! This one’s got explosions!” He waves the DVDs at you and Souya, clearly excited.

“I mean, who doesn’t like a good explosion?”

You roll your eyes while searching through the pantry for snacks.

“Yeah, 'hoya, but we’ve seen that one, like, five times already! Besides, it’s my turn to choose, and I want to watch something funny.”

Nahoya groaned at your response.

Souya softly mutters while carefully pouring popcorn into a bowl.

“Anything but horror, please. I won’t be able to sleep for a week…”

Nahoya laughs and ruffles his twin's hair. “Afraid of ghosts, huh? Fine, no horror.”

He pauses, looking at you with a mischievous grin. “But we’re still watching something action-packed. No arguments!”

Grabbing a bag of chips, you narrow your eyes at Nahoya.

“Who made you the boss of movie night?! I’m picking comedy! PomPom agrees with me, right?”

You glance at the small Pomeranian, who simply yips energetically from the couch, clearly excited but having no idea what’s going on.

With a rare smile, Souya offered PomPom a piece of popcorn. "PomPom’s vote doesn’t count. Besides, I’d rather watch something calm, not too loud.”

Nahoya snatches the remote with his trademark grin. “Too bad! Action it is—majority rules!”

He gestures dramatically toward PomPom. “Me and PomPom, we’re a team!”

You chased after him. “Not fair! PomPom just wants snacks!”

Souya sat on the couch with PomPom by his side, his expression serious but soft.

“How 'bout this? Action-comedy. No explosions, just funny fights.”

The peach-haired boy pouts slightly but shrugs. “Fine, fine, I’ll allow it. As long as there’s a little action.”

You grinned and tossed a chip at Nahoya.

“Deal! Let’s finally settle on something before PomPom falls asleep waiting.” With a truce in place, the three of you settle on the couch with snacks in hand.

The movie starts rolling and for once, the chaos subsides as you all enjoy the night, occasionally laughing or teasing each other during the best scenes. PomPom snuggles into a blanket, letting out a content sigh, clearly the happiest with the arrangement.

[gay-dorito-dust]

I don’t believe in god, but I believe that you’re my saviour.

Most likely ooc Geta and inaccuracies galore.

You shouldn’t be allowed to be as near to him as you were in this situation. Emperor Geta was corruption, death, cruelty and inhumane as they come with the sickening grin and pleasure he took from the senseless slaughter of men that he merely viewed as entertainment.

You shouldn’t be anywhere near a man who’s entire being should disgust you greatly to the point where you refuse to be within the same room as him. His hands bore the blood of the innocent but he’d look upon them with a sadistic smile as he demanded for more violence, more madness, more bloodshed to be performed as if his dark soul wasn’t given it’s proper fill.

So why was it you were here within the grandiose gardens that he had made specifically for you to enjoy your morning readings of poetry? Why was it that while his gifts consisted of jewellery that you were expect to wear within the presences of other powerful people, servants and civilians alike; Geta would also buy you books a plenty of your favourite poets, who’s hands weaved words together so seamlessly as though they were spent weaving pure gold in the most desirable clothes in another life.

So why was it that you found yourself staring into his dark eyes, which possessed the ability to be devoid of empathy, but yet gaze upon you with a softness unlike any other as the light made them warm like honey or a thick substance like syrup; gazing at you as though he was seeing you for the first time all over again, as if you weren’t already his to have and to hold in your shared chambers. His hair that was often accompanied by a golden laurel was as fiery and unyielding as he was but in certain angles it looked soft to the touch, and you would know as your fingers would often be buried in it per Geta’s insistence in the privacy of one another, away from prying eyes where it’s just you and Geta.

His temperament flared like a roaring fire, causing everyone within radius of him to flinch or fall silent with immediate effect. Yet with you his fire was more easily managed, with some slight movements where his irrationality got the best of him and you had to leave for the library or the gardens, allowing him the time alone be to air out his anger, only for him to seek you out afterwards with a heaving chest and wild eyes; His hands would soon come to cradle your face and his forehead would press against yours as he finds his calm and composure once more within your presence as he idly stroked your cheeks with his thumb.

Geta draped you in lavish clothes of silk and jewellery crafted from gold and precious stones and or gems to emphasise that you were his and only his, not even his brother was allowed to have space within your heart when he was concerned, only him as your husband was allowed to occupy any and all space that your heart was allowed to have. ‘The gods can take what they please but I won’t let them have you, for you are mine and if I must defy them to keep you in my arms then I shall make myself their enemy for your heart.’ He’d often say as he kisses your forehead with an uncharacteristic tenderness.

‘You promise too much my love.’ You replied as you close your eyes, breathing him in. ‘One might think that you hold genuine affection for me as a person and not property you’ve claimed and see it as weakness.’ You add, only speaking of the truth but Geta’s grip on your face only tightens by a little and his breath fanning your face came out uneven.

‘I’ve always held affection for you, always.’ He rebuttals.

‘No. You were possessive over me and would cut the tongues of other men who dared speak honeyed words towards me.’ You tell him, smiling softly as you opened your eyes to look into his darker ones as they went through a multitude of emotions. ‘You only hold true affection for me now that you see that I can calm the fire within your heart and put those thoughts that poison your head to rest, beyond that I am nothing more than a possession.’

‘No.’ Geta barks but it doesn’t phase you as it would others for his hands still held you softly and lovingly as his he presses his forehead further against yours, eyes glancing down at your lips with temptation eating away at his heart and soul, urging him to close the distance between the two of you and consume you like you’ve consumed him unknowingly. ‘While I may tear out the tongues of others, my heart is only occupied by you, it bleeds you, beats for you- feel for yourself.’ He then brings one of your hands tightly to his chest, allowing you a moment to feel his heart reach out for your palm within him.

‘See?’ He whispers softly, letting go of your hand when he was confident that your hand would stay on his chest, listening to his heart as his hand now crept it’s way under your chin and caressing your jaw. ‘You consume me in ways I cannot fathom and I have grown to become addicted to your sweet words as you read from your poetry book aloud to me, succumbing to your every touch as though you were touching my soul, I want to be a husband you can be proud of and I intend to do so by doing this.’ Before you could ask what he was on about, Geta plants his lips against yours, weaving his lips through yours as he pulls you against him, not allowing for a single bit of space to exist between the two of you.

You hum in delight as you reciprocate the kiss, allowing yourself to be consumed by Geta and his passion, your other hand reaches to grip his shoulder for support when you felt his tongue trail your bottom lip before entering your mouth, causing your legs to become numb as you allowed him to all you were within the kiss with the intention of allowing yourself to indulge in all he was as well.

[sparklystarrrr]

Not me wanting to be self-indulgent with this ask…

BUT I AM BEGGING YOU FOR MORE RIDDLE AND HATTER!READER BECAUSE I ALSO ACT FUCKING INSANE AROUND PEOPLE I LOVE AND IT FEELS LIKE SOMEONE ACTUALLY WROTE A FIC OF ME ROMANCING RIDDLE!!!

PLEASE! PLEASE! PLEASE!

MORE PWEASE!!!

(Also have a nice timezone)

HELP I LOVE HOW MANY RIDDLE REQUESTS I GET I LOVE WRITING ABOUT MY HUSBAND

Hats Galore Pt. 2

Synopsis: Hat making is best done in pairs, is it not?

Contains: Riddle R. x Gn! Mad Hatter! Reader, extension of pt.1, kinda crack, SO FLUFFY

"Riddle boy, do come quickly now, yes you should! Any slower and the dodo feathers may fly away. It took me a couple fingers and a road this that and the other way to obtain, yes it did!"(y/n) squealed while pulling Riddle along with them. “You are truly talented dear. Would it be alright if you could perhaps… teach me?” He said with a slight flush on his cheeks.

(Y/n)’s eyes sparkled, “Teach you? My oh my, what fun! A hat shall be yours in due time Riddle boy!” They quickly grabbed hold of Riddle’s other hand and dragged him along to their room. Inside, it was cluttered to put it lightly. Fabrics, feathers, glue, sewing materials and more were scattered around the room. Hats made previously were decorating the wall from the floor to the ceiling. "Watch your step Riddle! My ideas are scattered along these rickety floors!"

"I can see as much, dear."Riddle said with a smile and let out an airy chuckle as he carefully stepped over some buttons and peacock feathers. The two clumsily made their way to the small desk with a set of cushioned chairs covered in a wide variation of plaid fabrics. A few patches clung to the wooden legs to hold them on, but overall they were very sturdy. The red haired boy sat gently down on the cushion while the (h/c)ette sat with a small clunk of rattling glass bottles and colliding wood.

"Time to make your special hat, my boy!"(y/n) snatched Riddle's petite golden crown off of his head and set it aside. They pulled a comically long measuring tape from a rather small pocket in their pants and wrapped it around his head. "Hmm..." They hummed while reading the measurement ,"Ah, One moment!" "Alright- HUH?!" Riddle jumped in shock as (y/n) hopped right out of their chair and flung themself into an abnormally large closet full of an insane amount of hats.

An avalanche of hats started falling upon the hatter and the boy jumped from his seat. “D-dear?! Are you alright??!!” He shouted. Once the sea of hats calmed there was a small humming coming from beneath the pile. Suddenly, hats exploded from the top of the pile. There out of the pile was (y/n) holding a crushed red velvet top hat waiting to be customized. “Riddle darling! I have the most wondrous hat for you! It is more awe striking than twelve dozen flowers singing a melodic tune, yes it is!”

Riddle panicked once again when he saw (y/n) jump out of the large hat mountain. He nervously held his arms out to catch them as they made a crash landing into him. With a loud bang, (y/n) fell right into Riddle's arms making him stumble back and fall on his butt. He yelped loudly as (y/n) fell right into his lap, hands still firm on the red top hat that they dug out from the hat mountain. "Hah, seems I've squashed this poor rosebud... Up we go now, wouldn't you like to fancy a new hat for tea time? A queen shall wear a crown no smaller than a tea mouse and no larger than a walrus, as said in your silly rule book!" (y/n) giggled heartily.

Riddle's smile softened and he rested his head upon their shoulder. He spoke softly with a sigh and wrapped his arms around their waist,”You are truly a rambunctious one…” (Y/n) rested a hand on his shoulder and pressed their cheek against the boy’s head. “And you’ve grown accustomed to it, I see!” The (h/c)ette teased. His cheeks grew flushed into a rosy pink. ‘I truly have…’ he thought. He melted into their warmth slowly. 

(Y/n) looked down with parted lips, suddenly feeling a little calmer. Their eyes softened and melted ever so close to Riddle. They pressed a warm kiss onto the crown of his rose red hair. The boy gasped.”(Y-(y/n)!” He sputtered as his face bloomed a hot pink.

(y/n) giggled happily at his reaction,”What? A bird will not know affection unless it’s mate performs upfront, no it won’t!” They then pressed one final smooch onto the red haired boy’s soft pale cheek and hopped to their feet.

They held out their hand to him,”Let’s go make a lovely hat for you now, yes we should!” Riddle’s expression turned from one of shyness to a content grin. “Yes.. yes we absolutely should my dear!” He placed his hand gently into theirs and they shoved him to his feet with a force that nearly knocked him over. They scampered over to the desk and plopped into their seats, quickly getting to work.

A few hours later and some fingers nearly stuck together, the hat was finally done. Riddle sauntered out of their room with a new hat fit for the Housewarden of Heartslabyul and his partner happily on his arm. “A hat truly fit for you, Riddle boy!” They exclaimed. Riddle simply looked to them with the widest smile he’s had since forever. “Thank you…” He spoke under his breath. As if he couldn’t quite contain himself, he swiftly pulled them into him and pressed a kiss against their soft lips. And for the first time ever, the sweet hatter was left in an absolute daze. Their cheeks flushed slightly as they held a gummy smile on their lips when he pulled back.

The Heartslabyul students thought he was a little odd for wearing the heavily decorated hat, but hyped the two up nonetheless

Every time i write something for heartslabyul i always say the dialogue in a british accent to make it sound more authentic to the characters… i love my little british man