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darkmatilda · 2 days ago

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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐥𝐭𝐞𝐫 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you got used to running away from the consequences of your actions, but it turned out to be incredibly difficult when the consequences are your coworker and their name is spencer reid.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭��𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐰: spencer reid x fem!baureader, canon typical violence and topics, season 1/2 reid, GLASSES REID, queen elle greenaway herself, gideon being a little creep (as usual), reader clearly ovulating lmao, mention of a trauma connected with drowning, mention of one night stands of the reader, inspired by taylor swift song "the bolter", dominant reader (mostly), spencer being awkwardly sweet

𝐚/𝐧: i should be doing my history assigment now instead of writing another freaky long fic but here i am

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 10k

Fuck, you thought the moment you realized you’d woken up in someone’s arms.

Double fuck, you added as it dawned on you that this wasn’t some random guy you met at a club, the kind who’d bought you a drink, whose name you hadn’t even tried to remember, and whose life you could easily disappear from without a second thought. Instead, you were lying in the bed of a coworker—a teammate you saw almost every single day.

Triple fuck.

Maybe even quadruple, because of how much you liked it. That is, lying next to his bare skin. In a position where one of his arms was wrapped around your body, his face buried in your hair, in the curve of your neck. His breathing steady, occasionally tickling you. Pleasant. It was pleasant.

You were up to five fucks already, and you hadn’t even left the bed yet.

There was no doubt in your mind that you were going to do it. By the time Spencer Reid opened his gorgeous, chocolate-brown eyes, you’d already be gone. Long gone, behind the wheel of your car, speeding at the maximum legal limit with the window cracked open, despite the icy gusts of winter air rushing in.

You’d been perfecting this strategy for years. First, you’d lose yourself in strangers’ sheets with moans and gasps, only to slip away in the early morning, filled with a thrill even greater than what you’d felt just a few hours before. Why? A very good question. You wished you had the answer to it.

This situation shouldn’t have been an exception, though theoretically, it already was. After all, you’d never even considered doing this with people you knew so well. People you couldn’t just ghost without consequence. People you—leaning over to check the clock on the bedside table—were supposed to see again in less than an hour!

You rubbed your sleepy face with your hand, silently cursing yourself. If only you’d been drunk the night before. People dodge the consequences of far worse actions than having a sex with a coworker simply by blaming it on alcohol. But no—when all of this started, you’d been completely sober and fully aware. Incredibly turned on, it’s worth mentioning.

Before the memories of the previous night could start ambushing you, you scrambled out of the bed. First, of course, you had to untangle yourself from the mess of limbs—carefully, so as not to wake him. You gently moved his arm aside and adjusted the blanket over his hips. Where this sudden care and tenderness came from was yet another very interesting question.

Tiptoeing around the bedroom, you gathered your clothes. Your panties and bra you shamelessly clutched in one hand, intending to shove them into your jacket pocket later. Before heading for it, though, you paused for a brief moment in front of the bed, in front of the still-sleeping Reid.

The blanket, pushed low, revealed the upper half of his lean body—his prominent collarbones and the smooth, even tone of his delicious skin. His chest rose and fell steadily, his hand resting in the spot where you’d been lying just moments ago. As if you were still there.

What a shame it was only a one-time thing.

Some people, looking at his innocent appearance, had no idea how much he had to offer. Their loss, you thought, leaving the apartment on shaky legs, feeling soreness in most of the muscles in your body. When you finally got inside the car and the wind began to cool your flushed face and cheeks, the guilt faded away. You didn’t feel as good as usual, your heart wasn’t racing, and the adrenaline wasn’t surging through your veins the way you craved. Strange. Did it have something to do with who your one-night lover was? You shook your head, trying not to dwell on it.

You’d had a really great time together that one night, but that was it. You were officially leaving it behind, forgetting it.

Just like you always did.

It wasn’t an exception, you told yourself, as you took a quick shower in your own apartment.

It wasn’t an exception, and the fact that you worked together didn’t change a thing.

It wasn’t an exception, you kept affirming, crossing the threshold of the office with still-damp hair and the buttons of your fitted black shirt unevenly fastened.

“Are we not greeting each other anymore?” someone’s question snapped you back to reality.

Lost in thought, you realized you’d passed your friend Elle’s desk without even nodding at her. She was sitting on the edge of it, arms crossed over her chest, her dark eyes seeming to pierce through your skull, sifting through your memories. She was sharp—sometimes, too sharp. With nothing more than a sly smile, she let you know she knew something was going on.

"Sorry. I'm still half asleep," you said, approaching her for a hug. You let out a chuckle. "Or maybe I'm completely asleep if I missed such a hot chick in my path."

Elle pushed you away by a finger’s length, her eyebrows raised in a challenge.

"You think you're gonna distract me with compliments? Better start talking—who's the guy?"

“What guy?” someone asked, surprisingly not you, but Derek, who stepped into the room with a massive cup of coffee, nearly dropping it as he tried to greet both of you. You loved the laid-back atmosphere of the early mornings at work, when you had a moment to chat about whatever. “Well, good morning, ladies. From the looks on your faces, I’m guessing you had a nice weekend?”

"From that huge cup of coffee, I’m guessing you did too, if you need that much caffeine. Partying on a Sunday night, you should be ashamed," you replied sarcastically, eyeing your coworker.

His eyebrows shot up.

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed," he whistled.

"She's just trying to change the subject," Elle informed him. "I was just interrogating our little bolter.

You rolled your eyes at hearing that nickname again. They’d started using it a while ago, as soon as they found out how you handled things with guys. There was nothing judgmental about it—they just really liked to tease you.

It took Morgan a moment to piece together what was going on. When he did, laughter burst from his lips.

"Is that why your hair is still wet? You left in such a rush you didn’t even have time to dry it?"

"She was afraid the sound of the hair dryer would wake the guy up," Elle snorted. "And, heaven forbid, they’d actually have to talk to each other."

“Oh, screw you both,” you muttered, aiming to act your age—in this case, by flipping them off. Before you could, Derek caught your hand, stopping you from spinning on your heel and stomping back to your desk.

“You know,” he said, suddenly a touch more serious, as if the question genuinely intrigued him, “I can’t help but wonder why you actually do it. For me, personally, waking up next to a lovely lady who made the night worthwhile is kind of the best part...”

"Are you asking about the psychological aspects behind it?" You raised an eyebrow. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Elle tilt her head slightly, clearly intrigued. "I don’t know. Something from childhood, probably. Everything stems from there, doesn’t it? Or maybe the reason is something else," you lowered your voice to a near conspiratorial whisper, leaning in closer to their faces as if about to reveal some great secret. "I simply enjoy it. As they say, you don’t pry into people’s bedrooms or wallets."

"That rule doesn’t apply to our friendship, sweetheart."

You chuckled at the remark; sometimes, you really did share a lot with each other. In any case, your response had nothing to do with modesty or shame on those topics. You chose to answer evasively because you didn’t feel like describing how addictive that feeling of escape was, how much control it seemed to give you. How your heart would race in those moments, and how all your fucking lives seemed to flash before your eyes then.

It was sick, many people have already told you that. Still, you couldn't stop.

"Good morning, everyone." Suddenly, JJ burst in, clutching a briefcase the size of an encyclopedia under her arm. "Hotch wants to see us all in five minutes, we have a new case. You'll find out everything in a moment, but I’ll say right away that it looks like a little trip is in store. Bring warm jackets."

"Mercy, not another case from Alaska..." Morgan started, rolling his eyes.

"Not this time. By the way, has Reid already arrived?"

Elle glanced around and shrugged.

"I don’t see him. Besides, if he were here, he’d already be telling us everything about the weather conditions in Alaska."

"Strange," Derek muttered under his breath. "I can’t remember the last time he was late."

You fixed your gaze on your shoes, as if there was something fascinating about them.

"It’s not like him," JJ agreed, a little worried. "Maybe I should call him..."

"He’s definitely stuck in traffic," you interjected quickly, forcing yourself to sound casual, though you tensed up involuntarily. The thought of confronting Spencer slightly scared you, though you wouldn't admit it to yourself. "I’m almost 100% sure. Anyway, shouldn’t we be heading out?"

You changed the subject, nodding toward the exit with your chin. And then, by accident, you made eye contact with Elle.

Elle, who knew you better than anyone.

Elle, who always, always knew when you were lying or hiding something. And whose eyes widened when she realized.

Feeling the blood rush to your ears, you subtly shook your head, silently pleading for her not to speak. But she, to your horror, opened her mouth.

"You two, go ahead," she directed at Morgan and JJ. Then she fixed her intense, demanding gaze directly on you. "We’ll join you in a minute. I need to have a word with our girl, privately."

Barely were you alone when she exclaimed:

"Did you sleep with Reid?!"

"Goddammit, Elle, could you say it any louder?" you hissed, glancing toward the door where your colleagues had just disappeared moments ago.

"Why not? So, you had sex with Dr. Spencer Reid...!"

"FOR GOD'S SAKE..."

"...our genius boy and a member of the same team?!"

"I’m fucking sure even Strauss heard that in her office," you sighed. "But yes, I did it, I regret it, and most importantly, this has to stay between us. Not a word to Derek, JJ, or Penelope, understood?"

To your surprise, Elle burst into laughter and raised her hands in a defensive gesture.

"You know I wouldn’t tell anyone without your permission. I was just playing around Anyway..." she sighed. "I find it hard to believe. You two? Honestly, there’s always been something between you…”

"No," you interrupted her sharply. The words left a ringing in your head. "There was nothing between us."

"So, you decided to sleep together just like that, out of boredom?"

"We need to go, Elle. The rest is probably waiting for us."

You moved forward, your friend trailing right behind you, like that little voice in the back of your mind urging you to order pizza at midnight.

"Oh, one more thing. You said you regret it. So, what, our genius didn’t meet your expectations..."

"End of discussion..."

"Last thing, you told me not to mention it to Garcia, Morgan, or JJ. What about Hotch? Can I tell him?"

You couldn’t keep up the seriousness any longer and burst into laughter, joined by Elle.

"Tell me what?" a voice called from behind you.

Fuck multiplied by twelve thousand seventy-nine.

Somehow, your boss appeared in the same hallway, probably heading to the same room where you were going to be briefed on your next case. You noticed how all the amusement disappeared from Elle’s face. You both exchanged a look, like teenagers caught smoking a cigarette by their parents.

You both turned, silently negotiating through eye contact—arguing, really, over who should speak up and save the situation. It fell to you.

"Um... we were wondering... if we should tell you... that we absolutely love your tie. It's so... red and... long..." It was only then that you noticed it was a gray tie. "Not that one. Another one. Absolutely stunning. And I’m actually looking for a birthday gift for a friend. He’s... a huge fan of... ties."

You tried not to look at Elle, fearing she might burst into laughter. She already seemed like she was suffocating inside. Improvisation was never your strong suit; you always had to say too much.

"So, I hope you don’t mind me asking where you bought it. That’s exactly the kind of tie I’m looking for. Red..." You bit your tongue before you could say long again. "Good quality. One that you’d just want to untie..."

Hotch’s completely stoic expression didn’t help.

"Oh." Suddenly, you realized you hadn’t even greeted him. "Good morning, boss. Are you having a good day?"

"Average," he replied, completely ignoring your whole tie spiel.

Silence fell. Elle stared at the floor, and the corners of her mouth twitched dangerously.

"Let’s get to work," Hotch suggested, clearing his throat. He extended his hand, gesturing for you to go ahead. As soon as you turned, you squeezed your eyes shut in embarrassment. "I got it from Hailey," he spoke to you in a quieter tone, opening the door to the room where the rest of the team was already gathered. "But if you really care, I can ask her where she bought it."

Sometimes you had a hard time figuring out if the guy was serious or just messing with you.

"I’d be greatly appreciative," you managed to say, quickly passing him and taking a seat at the long table.

You heard Elle whispering to Morgan something that started with "You won’t believe this…” and contained a combination of the words red, long, and untie.

Actually, saying that all the team members were inside wasn’t entirely true. One of them was missing.

"Reid’s late?" Penelope wondered, just as your gaze fell on his empty seat.

"Let’s start without him," Hotch decided. "This can’t wait. JJ?"

She handed out the case files to everyone and moved to the screen, where the most important details and photos related to the case were being displayed. Before he could even say a word, a late Spencer burst into the room.

"Sorry, really, sorry..." he said frantically. "I know this never happens, but I overslept..."

He stopped mid-sentence as soon as his eyes met yours. It felt like he might as well have shouted, Hey, you know we had sex last night? and it would have been less suggestive. Or maybe it was just your inner paranoid voice talking.

"You could’ve informed us you’d be late," Hotch said.

Reid was still desperately trying to catch your eye, even though you were determinedly focusing on everything except him. It wasn’t until a moment later that he realized Hotch had said something to him, and he sighed in surprise, snapping back to reality.

"Oh... yeah, I should have. Definitely. Actually... I actually sent a message to y/n."

At that moment, all eyes turned to you. You furrowed your brow. There was no way he had written or called you — you would have heard it… which, of course, didn’t mean you would have replied. Your hand went to your pocket…

"I forgot my phone."

Only then did you look at Reid, your expression should have given him the message you intended. I left my phone at your place...

“I’ll look for it for you,” he offered. He immediately panicked, probably realizing that you'd rather keep your night together a secret. “I mean, I’ll help you look for it. If you want…”

“Reid, please, sit down,” Hotch stopped him from completely humiliating both of you. At that point, you had a burning desire to bang your head on the table. “And close the door.”

“Right…”

He followed the order and took a seat next to JJ, across from you, sending a small, uncertain smile. You didn’t react, your face remained unreadable, even irritated by how much he was giving away about what had happened between you.

Still, seeing his slightly wrinkled shirt, the same one he wore the previous evening when he opened the door for you, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander. Those small imperfections in the fabric were, of course, from how hastily you had removed it and tossed it to the floor, where it had stayed all night…

The first time you had met outside of work, as two ordinary friends and not colleagues, was a few weeks ago. You had to drop by his place in the evening to pick up some documents you needed for the next day at work.

“Thank god,” you sighed as the door opened. “Elle isn’t picking up at all. I have no idea what she’s doing or where she is, and I seriously need this. If I don’t bring it, I can pretty much say goodbye to BAU.”

Only then did you lift your gaze to the man standing in front of you, too absorbed in your panic over the missing papers to actually take a good look at him. One hand rested on the doorframe, dressed in a sweater vest with the collar of a shirt peeking out beneath it.

“I’m glad I could help,” he replied. Thin-framed glasses rested on his nose, which he only wore occasionally for work. It was a shame because they suited him well. “But I’m sure Hotch wouldn’t throw you out just for being one day late.”

“I’ve been putting it off for three weeks.”

“That definitely changes things. Are you coming in? I need to... check if I have everything. “I’m really sorry, but you actually called just a moment ago and I didn’t manage to…”

“Don’t worry about it,” you waved a hand reassuringly. “I should’ve reached out earlier and not bothered you at this hour. But since you’re inviting me, I’m coming in. I’ve never been to your place before.”

“You’re not bothering me at all,” he assured you as you both walked further into the apartment. The lighting was dim, creating a cozy and relaxed atmosphere.

You stopped in the living room when a familiar sound reached your ears—a melody you knew all too well. Without a second thought, you followed it to its source.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you huffed in surprise, coming to a halt in front of the glowing TV screen, its bright light cutting through the dim surroundings.

“What?” Spencer finally noticed you had wandered off and joined you a minute later. “Oh, sorry. I was watching it earlier and forgot to turn it off…”

“No!” You stopped him before he could reach for the remote. “Don’t you dare. History’s Mysteries is my favorite show.”

Spencer looked at you as though he expected you to burst into laughter any second and admit you were joking. But no, you genuinely, wholeheartedly loved that program. Especially the episodes about extraterrestrial life—deep down, you’d always been a bit of a nerd.

You crossed your arms over your chest, pretending to be annoyed.

“What?” you challenged, raising an eyebrow. “You think just because I’m hot, I can’t have any intellectual interests?”

He widened his eyes, shaking his head.

"Don't put those words in my mouth. I’d never say—or even think—something like that."

"That I’m hot?"

"No! What? I mean… I wouldn’t assume you couldn’t have intellectual interests just because you’re…"

"Hot," you finished for him, letting out a laugh. "Relax, Reid, I’m just messing with you. By the way, you have a really nice apartment. Honestly, I kind of expected, I don’t know, a lab or something."

"Well, so far, you’ve only seen the living room," he replied.

"And I'd love to see the rest of it," you announced, rocking slightly on your heels. "But I haven't seen this episode yet, and I'm very curious about what it's about."

You noticed him hesitate, clearly unsure how to respond.

"Unless, of course, you don’t want me to stay. Maybe you're expecting someone. A girl or a guy?"

"No, no, I’m not expecting anyone," he replied quickly, swallowing nervously. A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth—barely noticeable, but it was there. "You’re absolutely not bothering me. Actually, it’ll be... it’ll be nice to have you stay. But, um... the documents. I should—I'll go get those ready for you. Would you like something to drink?"

"...Four bodies were retrieved from a hole in the ice of a completely frozen lake. All the victims were young girls, aged thirteen to nineteen and each of them was involved in prostitution."

You were brought back to reality by JJ's words. You felt someone's gaze on you, surprisingly not from the direction you had expected. It was Gideon, and you were sure he had noticed the strange tension between you and Spencer. That was likely the reason behind his scrutiny. You had always thought he was a solid guy, but at times, he scared you. He looked at people as if he could see their original sin, not just theirs, but also that of five generations back in their family.

You shuddered, but for another reason. The subject... frozen lake, bodies pulled out... even though so many years had passed, and you could barely remember the event, the chill still crept down your spine, and your heart raced like you were running away.

"Wait a minute," Derek said, furrowing his brow thoughtfully. "How thick could the ice be on that lake?"

"Given the current almost extreme temperatures, probably around 50 inches. That's thick enough for even cars to move safely on it," Reid explained without hesitation.

You sighed, trying to hide a fleeting smile. You just... sounded like a fetishist, but you couldn't deny that it was a little exciting when he did that. He delivered long, flawless explanations, all while looking genuinely fascinated by the topic. It didn't matter what you were talking about.

Elle raised an eyebrow. You decided to ignore her.

“Doesn’t it make you wonder how he managed to cut a hole in the lake, in such thick ice, without anyone noticing?” Morgan continued.

“Actually, he didn’t have to do it personally,” Reid replied again. He took off his glasses and thoughtfully turned them in his hands. ��Under different weather conditions, we might consider that, but these were most likely holes made for other purposes. Fishing, mostly, but also to test if the ice can support vehicles, for example. The unsub could have simply shown up, discarded the body, and that’s it.”

You all started the discussion on the topic without your input. You should have stayed focused, but you couldn't help but keep glancing back at his long fingers, holding the glasses...his touch so delicate and skilled…

The door opened once again, just like every Sunday, when the two of you caught up on the weekly episode of the show. After you stayed over at his place once to watch it together, it simply became a tradition. An unspoken one.

With each meeting, you talked less and less about work. It was still kept in a purely friendly atmosphere—otherwise, you wouldn't have shown up. You weren't looking for a committed relationship, but lately, the usual physicality wasn't enough, and you needed a new conversation partner on a deeper level. The range of your topics was vast, from casual chatter to deep analyses of the content you watched (you could talk for hours about conspiracy theories), or serious yet comforting conversations about life and the world.

"Where's my pillow?" you asked, pointing to the spot on the left side of the couch where you always sat.

"I spilled coffee on it, by accident. It's in the laundry. Sorry."

"Did you really just apologize for taking your pillow from your own apartment?"

"Sorry, It’s just my thing”

You both burst out laughing, sitting side by side on the couch.

"I miss something to rest my head on," you complained after just a minute. "I’ve got neck pain from sleeping on the jet."

"So, you should definitely sleep on a flat surface," he teased. "See, I took the pillow out of concern for you."

"Ladies and gentlemen, Spencer Reid before you. The man who will always find a scientific reason to make your life harder. Maybe I should just sleep on a bed of nails instead of a mattress, huh?"

“I just suggested a slightly flatter surface! Where did the nails come from?”

“That’s the same to me. I need softness.”

Spencer shook his head.

“I can bring you a pillow from my bedroom.”

“The episode is starting.”

“I’ll be back in a second…”

“Oh, and then you’ll complain you can’t talk about the plot because you missed the first minute, and so much probably happened,” you stopped him from getting up, grabbing his wrist. “Sit. I’ll survive the neck pain. Or… or I’ll just lie down here.”

Saying this, you simply rested your head on his lap, settling comfortably on your side.

“What did the autopsy reveal?” Elle asked. “Did the victims die from drowning, or were their bodies just dumped in the water with a different cause of death?”

You should have focused on the case at hand, but you couldn’t shake the discomfort this topic caused you. No wonder your thoughts kept straying to more pleasant places as you tried to distance yourself from it. Still, you read through the case files, knowing you had to stay focused to solve this. Lives depended on it.

“They were all alive when they were thrown into the water,” JJ said with tightly pressed lips. “And each of them suffered a heavy blow to the head.”

“That’s how he abducts them,” Derek summarized. “Knocks them unconscious with a strong hit. Maybe he pretends to be a client, and once they leave with him, he strikes.”

“The question is, why specifically the lake’s ice hole?” you mused, tapping your nails on the table in an anxious gesture. “Is it purely practical? Did he think it was the easiest place to dispose of the bodies?”

You couldn’t take your eyes off the photos of the drowning victims—it felt like self-inflicted torture. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Reid staring at you differently than before. Once, you’d told him a story about something that happened to you as a child, more like a casual anecdote than a heartfelt confession. Even so, you thought you saw some worry etched on his face.

For the first time since he walked through the door, you met his eyes directly, responding to his desperate attempts to catch your gaze. Surprised that you finally looked at him, he froze, his slightly parted lips emitting a short sound as if he wanted to say something but forgot what it was at the last second.

"No... I don't think so," he finally said, drawing out the syllables absentmindedly. The slight furrow in his brow suggested he was deep in thought. "Bathing in water symbolizes cleansing from sin in many religions, both physically and spiritually. For example, in Christianity, baptism washes away original sin. Prostitutes are often the targets of serial killers who believe they’re purging society in some way. Since we’ve ruled out a sexual motive, maybe this is where we should focus our attention."

"That’s a good lead," Hotch agreed, as the rest of the team considered the analysis in silence. "In that case, we’re likely dealing with a religious fanatic. Such perpetrators often believe they’re acting in the name of God or some higher good. Worse still, they see their actions as morally justified, which means they feel no remorse."

"And that, in turn, means they won’t stop killing until they’re caught," Gideon concluded.

"Then there will soon be another victim. We need to move now," your boss decided, quickly straightening his papers against the table before tucking them into his briefcase. "See you on the jet in fifteen minutes."

Throughout the meeting, you'd laid out the victims' photos in front of you, studying them closely. Preoccupied with gathering them up, you could hear everyone heading toward the door, convinced you'd been left alone in the room.

But when you looked up, you found yourself face-to-face with none other than Reid. Your breath hitched for a moment. You knew this confrontation was inevitable, but you'd worked so hard to push the thought of it away…

"Hey," he greeted with a small smile on his lips. He seemed almost excited about the conversation. "I just wanted…to ask how you're doing."

You shrugged, forcing indifference.

"Fine, I guess."

You finished sliding the photos back into the case file, closed it, and pressed it to your chest.

"We should get going. Hotch gave us fifteen minutes, but the sooner we leave, the better..."

"You don't even want to talk to me?" he asked unexpectedly, shaking his head slightly in genuine disbelief. He swallowed hard and added, "About last night?"

You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment. You hated this—hated it with every fiber of your being. That awful moment when you had to tell someone you'd spent the night with that it didn’t mean anything to you, that you didn’t want to keep seeing them, let alone get involved. And it was so much worse this time. This wasn’t some random guy. This was Spencer—your friend, someone you genuinely cared about, whose friendship you couldn’t afford to lose, especially since you worked together.

Your body was conditioned to run, to escape. Waking up in someone else’s bed always signaled an immediate sprint to the finish line. But this time, it felt like you’d tripped over an untied shoelace barely a meter in.

"There’s nothing to talk about," you replied. The strange tension of being in the same room with him again, just the two of you in this small space—so much like last night—settled over you. "Actually, wait. There is. I think I left my phone at your place, though it might’ve fallen somewhere in the car. Could you look for it when we get back?"

He didn’t respond. You weren’t sure why, but you kept your gaze fixed anywhere but on him—his shirt, the space behind him, anything to avoid his eyes. Maybe that was the problem. Maybe you should look directly at him, let your words carry the weight they were supposed to.

Spencer suddenly let out a short, sharp laugh, filled with shock and maybe even… sarcasm?

"Did it really mean so little to you that you can't even look at me?"

You gave in and lifted your gaze. His head tilted slightly to the side, his brow furrowed. He looked somehow hurt even though hurt seemed too strong a word.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean how you disappeared this morning. I thought maybe you were in a rush or didn’t want to wake me, but when I got there, you barely even looked at me. Sorry—actually, you looked at me only once”

"What did you expect, that I’d throw myself at you and kiss you?"

"No, I expected that we’d talk about it like normal people."

"But there’s nothing to talk about. It happened, and that’s it. I don’t see any reason we should have to debate about it..."

Spencer wasn’t angry, like others might have been. He was simply stunned.

"I don’t understand this," he finally confessed, adjusting his glasses on his nose. It was as if they suddenly became a bother, so he adjusted them again, then, after a moment of hesitation, took them off. "Do you regret what happened?"

“No,” you answered quickly, it was the first honest thought that came to your mind. You pinched the bridge of your nose, unable to find the right words. “Well… I don’t regret it in the way you might think. It’s just… I’m not sure what you expect from me now. We spent one night together, it was amazing, but I don’t have anything more to offer you.”

“I don’t want you to offer me anything,” he said, irritation beginning to creep into his voice, though it didn’t seem to be directed at you. “The only thing I want is… to understand where we stand now. Look, we’ve been spending a lot of time together lately, I thought you liked me…”

“Because I do like you,” you interrupted him mid-sentence. "Let me be honest with you, Reid. I don’t do relationships. And just so you know, I don’t usually sleep with my friends either, but it happened, and I can’t undo it, nor would I want to. Because I enjoyed it, I like you, and I have a great time when I’m with you. And up until now, I’ve really enjoyed how things have been between us. I don’t want anything to change."

You summed up what had been weighing on your heart, hoping with all sincerity that he’d understand. Spencer leaned his hands on the back of an empty chair, turning his body slightly toward you.

"So," he said, letting out something between a chuckle and a pained sigh. "Maybe you shouldn’t have gone to bed with me."

"Listen, sex doesn’t mean anything. It’s just a physical act, it doesn’t affect our friendship in any way."

"Do you really believe that?"

“Yes, I do,” you insisted stubbornly, refusing to let yourself even blink. Spencer turned his face toward you, looking for signs of a lie or uncertainty in your expression.

He wouldn’t have been able to find any, even if he tried with all his might. Because you were a brilliant actress. And it wasn’t that you hid your feelings so well. It was more that everything about you was so contradictory that it created a whole range of possible interpretations. And Spencer, with his deeply rooted need to hurt himself and test his own worth, chose to settle on the one that would guarantee him that.

“Well, good for you,” he finally replied, before leaving the room completely, not even turning back over his shoulder.

For a moment, you stood in silence, unable to identify what you were actually feeling. In truth, your earlier words had been honest. You cared about your friendship, the connection, the conversations, and the time spent together. But at the same time, you couldn’t deny that he simply attracted you. Just yesterday, you had convinced yourself it was probably just curiosity. Sometimes people wonder what it would be like to try something with a friend, they do it, and then all those similar thoughts fade away.

But was it the same for you two?

Your head and shoulders had been resting on his lap for a while, your cheek comfortably pressed against his thigh, and the glow of the TV occasionally lit up your focused face when something brighter appeared on the screen.

Spender seemed tense about the position for just a minute, then, for the next five, he was simply surprised. Although you focused your attention on the program, you could feel his gaze falling on your figure from time to time, stopping on it for a moment. After ten minutes, you were both lying comfortably, with mutual ease, and after an unknown amount of time, one of his hands was resting on your side.

Every now and then, you spoke to each other, exchanging short, often sarcastic comments about the episode. During one of these interactions, something caught your attention.

"Where are your glasses?" you asked. You turned onto your back, resting the back of your head on his lap instead of your temple and cheek.

You could look up at him from that amusing, lower perspective, from which everyone looks particularly unflattering. You smiled at his expression when he tilted his head to look at you.

"Oh, I have them here," he replied, lifting the glasses he must have set on the couch.

"But why aren’t you wearing them?" You could swear that when you started watching, they were on his nose. You had noticed because you really liked how he looked in them.

He shrugged.

"You’re straining your eyes. Put them on," you asked.

Spencer moved his hand as if he wanted to reach for them, but at the last moment, he hesitated.

"I... I don’t exactly like how I look in them," he finally confessed.

After those words, you stared at the ceiling for a moment, then pushed yourself up on your elbow, almost aggressively. His eyebrows shot up at that.

"You must be joking."

"What?"

"I said, you must be joking. You look great in them. They really suit you," you assured him, sitting up. "You know, when I was a teenager, I always wanted to wear glasses. I even envied the girls with poor eyesight."

"You know, I’m fully aware you’re saying this just to get me to wear them?"

"True, you got me. Did it work?"

"Not really."

You bit your lower lip, thoughtfully considering a certain idea.

"Okay, give them to me for a moment," you asked, extending your hand. "I’ll tell you something that will convince you to wear them. From now on, you’ll even sleep in them. Well, maybe especially sleep in them."

He tilted his head, trying for a moment to read your intentions from your face, but he couldn’t. He sighed and handed you the glasses.

"Don’t..."

"Don’t grab them by the lenses, I know that," you finished, rolling your eyes. "I’m not some animal."

With his glasses in hand, you changed your position on the couch, kneeling so that you were more or less facing each other.

"I’m waiting for your arguments," he said, his voice sly, to which you raised an eyebrow.

"Well, this will be an argument combined with a little presentation," you clarified. "Have you ever heard of the glasses theory?"

"Is that an actual concept in human psychology, or something you just made up? If it’s the latter, I’m afraid I haven’t”

Listen, it’s very simple, but you’d better focus on me," you demanded, ignoring his previous remark.

"I’m focused."

Indeed, he was. His gaze was fixed on you with such intensity and engagement, as if you were about to deliver a speech that could change the fate of the universe. Or maybe it just seemed that way because you were so close to each other.

"Forgive me for the unacademic language, Doctor, but I don’t like to complicate things too much. This theory says that with glasses, you can only look one of two ways: smart or hot."

Spencer had already chuckled, ready to jump in with a sarcastic comment, but you pressed your finger to his lips, moving even closer.

"Don’t interrupt me for now, I’m not done yet. This theory also says that your look in glasses will always be the opposite of your usual, everyday look. So, if without them you look like the typical intellectual who knows the meaning of every word in the dictionary, then in them…" You paused, tilting your head to the side. Up until now, your finger had been resting on his lips, which it had landed on by chance, but you couldn’t stop yourself from trailing it along his chin and jawline. He didn’t take his eyes off you, which only made it harder to stop. "In them, you look really, really attractive. Like, you know, sexually attractive”

You felt his chest rise. You felt it because one of your hands was resting on it as you sat on his lap, though you had no idea how you had ended up there. Spencer had been entirely focused on your face until now-on your speaking lips, not on how your bodies were positioned in relation to each other. He exhaled, loudly, far too loudly for comfort, the breath he'd been holding in. The sound escaped as you settled your full weight on his lap instead of just hovering above it.

“Do you really mean that?”

Yes, you wanted to respond briefly, right into his ear.

“That’s the theory. And I… I agree with it. I even have another example. You won’t deny that I’m hot, right? It’s just something people think when they see me. A statement of fact. So… when I put on glasses…” Saying this, you slid his glasses onto your own nose. Your entire field of vision blurred slightly, making it hard to see his reaction. You could only feel how his body responded..“Well? How do I look?”

He didn’t answer. His breathing grew deeper, his pulse quicker. You knew this because your hand, which had been exploring every corner of his face, had already made its way to his neck and decided to stay there for a while.

“Spencer,” you prompted, “I asked how I look.”

He lowered his head, the top of it brushing against your sternum, lingering there for a moment. When he straightened again, his eyes were in constant flux, like those of someone torn by too many desires at once.

“Smart,” he replied, his voice barely audible, the word catching in his throat. “Now you look really smart.”

You shifted higher on his lap, drawn to him by the pull of his voice.

“Smart,” you repeated with a laugh, your tone edging toward a whisper, slipping between the two of you and filling the small space like liquid poured into a vessel. “That confirms the theo—…”

You broke off when his lips finally surged toward yours, impatient and pushed to the very edge of restraint. His jaw pressed against yours, forcing your entire body to tilt back. You swayed on his lap, both of his hands falling tou your hips, his fingertips pressing firlmy into your skin to hold your body at the same place, right next to him, close, closer.

The kiss, born of desperation, quickly transformed into the release of a long-hidden hunger shared by you both. It was equal on every level, matched in intensity and force.

In the midst of it all, you lost your breath, repeatedly pulling your lips away from his to gasp for air, only to reconnect moments later. One of those brief pauses drew a wretched, urging whimper from him.

It was around then that you felt the pressure, growing stronger against your core.

An involuntary smile spread across your lips, breaking the kiss, during which you briefly took control, tilting his neck back for better access. Pulling away by barely an inch, you managed to notice that his barely open eyelids were still fixed on your lips, glistening with saliva and flushed with desire.

“Spencer? What is it? “

After asking that question you pressed yourself to his hips, pointing to the obvious hardness. His eyes widened, as if all the previous actions had taken place far beyond his body, to which he had only just returned. He inhaled sharply, his fingers gripping your body firmly and decisively as if trying to slide you off his lap. Something in the intensity of his touch and his attempt to take control only made you cling to him more.

“Didn’t expect you to be that hard after a kiss, but maybe it’s my fault” You muttered a joke under your breath, your lips briefly marking the space along his jawline, chin, and finally his lips. In the meantime, while one of your hands remained firmly on his neck, the other decisively reached its target. Then, griped it through the fabric of his pants. His lips parted, b loout no sound came out; it seemed to have been swallowed by his surprise. “Do you want me to take care of it?”

Your hand remained still, waiting for an answer. At first, he was silent, focused on his own breathing, not looking at your face, which you found quite unsettling.

"Spencer, I want you to answer me."

When he hesitated again, you gently brushed your lips against the lobe of his ear. But before you could repeat your request, he unexpectedly pulled both of you to the side, positioning you beneath him.

You gasped, surprised by the shift in dynamics.

“I want this” he whimpered into your ear, covering it with his mouth along with the space around it. “I really, really want this, please…”

But was it the same for you two?

You repeated the question in your mind and recalled how, arched like a bow, you placed the glasses on his face, wanting to see him wear them as he made you come.

You stood there in the empty room, replaying that moment in your head, well aware that you should join the rest of the team, but not so sure about the answer

"Please don’t tell me that those fifteen minutes when you were alone..."

"Disgusting, Elle, you’re just disgusting."

Your friend, sitting across from you on the jet, smiled as if you’d just given her a compliment. The rest of the team either engaged in conversation with each other or reviewed the case files once more, looking for new clues. Reid belonged to the latter group, though his absent expression didn’t suggest he was deep in thought about the case. But you made an effort not to look at him, feeling a bit guilty for how things had unfolded.

"What exactly did you tell him?"

"That I don’t date and I’m not looking for anything serious."

"You just told him that?"

"What was I supposed to do, draw him a picture?"

"It’s not about that, it’s just..." Elle hesitated, unsure of what she wanted to say. She didn’t seem as cheerful as before. "I guess you didn’t say it that directly, right? Don’t get me wrong, but it’s kind of... cruel."

Her gaze briefly shifted toward the subject of your conversation, looking concerned.

"Would you have come to that conclusion if it were any other guy you didn’t know?"

She sighed.

"Probably not, and that’s why I think I’m having some sort of moral crisis."

You fell into a bit of an unpleasant mood for the rest of the flight. Unsure of what else to do, you decided to think a bit about the case and the murders. You even came to a conclusion and were about to stand up to discuss it when it hit you that you wanted your conversation partner to be...Reid. You sighed and stopped halfway, not knowing if he was ready to talk to you again.

Soon enough, you arrived in the small town where the murders had taken place. Naturally, you headed straight to the site where the bodies were discovered. Bundled up in thick down jackets, the crunch of deep snow underfoot accompanied your every step. You busied yourself talking to the local police, deliberately keeping your distance from the lake. The vast expanse of frozen water seemed to glare at you, challenging and mocking, as though daring you to come and play. Every glance at the ice awakened an inexplicable urge to sprint to its center, to feel the chills coursing through your body and surrender to a reckless exhilaration.

Rain drummed against the bridge like a barrage of tiny bullets, sharp and unrelenting, as if determined to pierce straight through you. You stood huddled beneath an umbrella with Reid, but both of you were already soaked to the bone, shivering from the relentless cold.

“Where the hell are they?” you asked through chattering teeth.

As part of your investigation, you and Reid had been sent to a nearby high school to interview the teachers of a missing teenager. The rest of the team had been assigned different tasks, and someone was supposed to pick you up at the agreed-upon spot and time so you could regroup and share your findings. But the wait was dragging on far longer than expected.

“I’d just like to remind you that you laughed at me when I took this umbrella, saying there wasn’t a single cloud in the sky and it definitely wouldn’t rain,” Spencer remarked, switching the umbrella from his red, cold hand to the other one he had been keeping warm in his coat pocket.

You looked at him with envy. Your jacket didn’t even have pockets, and you started wondering why you’d even bought it in the first place.

“This is not the time to point fingers at me,” you retorted. “This is the time to make sure I don’t die of hypothermia. Come closer. And don’t stand so close to the railing.”

“We’re nearly two meters away from it,” he pointed out, but still followed your request and stepped forward. You took the opportunity to shove your hands into his coat pockets for even a momentary bit of warmth. His coat smelled like rain, and your nose accidentally brushed against it. Your hands touched his in one of the pockets.

“Jesus, it’s like touching an ice cube,” he muttered.

“You still have feeling in your hands?”

“Still do, but I’m afraid it’s only a matter of time,” he replied.

“They’ll freeze and have to be amputated. We’ll be the only two handless FBI agents. Hotch will never send us on an assignment together again,” you joked.

He chuckled softly and shifted the umbrella to his other hand once again. For a moment, you both stood in silence—him staring at the river flowing beneath the bridge, and you gazing toward the direction where you hoped your rescue would arrive.

“Can I ask you a question?” he broke the silence, looking down at you.

You were standing so close, your hands buried in his coat pockets, that you had to tilt your head back significantly to meet his gaze.

“Sure, go ahead.”

“Are you afraid of water?”

You stared at his face, taken aback by the question. His wet hair was plastered to his forehead, and for some inexplicable reason, you felt a sudden urge to push it back.

“Why do you ask?”

He shrugged.

“It’s just something I noticed today—though, of course, there’s a possibility I’m wrong. But we’ve been standing on this bridge for twenty minutes, and you haven’t looked down once. And you keep telling me to step away from the railing.”

“I’m just looking out for your safety, klutz,” you teased, lowering your gaze. He wasn’t wrong about the water, and it surprised you that he had even picked up on it.

“When I was six, I almost drowned in frigid water,” you admitted, the words spilling out before you could stop them.

Spencer’s brows furrowed with concern.

“At least, that’s what I’ve been told,” you added before he could say anything. “Apparently, my dad took me and my sisters to a lake to go ice skating. He used to go there as a kid with his siblings, and the ice was always thick enough that no one even considered it might break. But that was twenty years earlier. He didn’t account for climate change. The ice cracked right beneath me.”

“God,” he sighed. “You know… maybe it’s for the better that you don’t remember it. At least not exactly.”

“Maybe. Apparently, I spent the next two weeks in the hospital with pneumonia, but I don’t have a single memory of that. Still, it doesn’t change the fact that I shudder at the mere sound of water.”

“Your body must remember what your mind suppressed. But wait, didn’t you have to pass a swimming test to get into the FBI?”

“I did. But it was in a pool, where the water was calm and not trying to kill me. Hey, do you see that car? Isn’t that for us?”

After a few hours, you began to appreciate living in a state where winters were mild. Your hands were even colder than they had been that time on the bridge, despite wearing leather gloves. The hood over your head muffled the sounds around you so much that the first time Hotch called your name, you didn’t even hear him. You only approached him when you noticed him waving in your direction.

Something in his expression made you quicken your pace.

“We have the unsub’s identity,” he said before you could open your mouth to ask what had happened.

The rest of the team had already gathered. Reid’s cheeks were red from the cold, and he wasn’t wearing his glasses. He wasn’t looking at you, so you avoided looking at him.

“What?” you blurted, surprised. “How?”

“He abducted another victim, but this time he wasn’t as careful, and one of the cameras caught him. Using the footage, Penelope tracked down his information. She also found out that he came from a very poor family, and his sister turned to prostitution at the age of fourteen to support both of them.”

“I don’t understand. Then why does he kill young girls, just like his sister, who sacrificed herself for their survival?” Elle asked, suddenly appearing behind you.

Her question echoed in your mind.

“He thinks that by drowning them in freezing water, he cleanses them of the sin of prostitution—a sin he believes was unjustly forced upon them because of poverty,” you said suddenly, the chill biting into your body far more sharply than before.

“The unsub might even think he’s doing them a favor,” Reid added, animated, picking up your line of thought. “That he’s their savior, granting them a departure free of that sin.”

His eyes met yours, a flicker of admiration glinting in them. But then, as if reminded of everything, he quickly looked away. You felt like sighing. So this is how every single one of your interactions was going to look from now on?

“We need to catch him before he drowns another victim. We don’t have much time; it’s getting dark,” Hotch issued commands quickly. “Gideon, me, JJ, and Elle will head to one lake, Morgan, Y/N, and…”

“I should go with you,” Reid interrupted. “Elle can go with Morgan, and…”

“This is not up for discussion,” Hotch replied in a firm tone, a flicker of surprise crossing not just his face but everyone’s. When it came to time, his decisions were final. You all knew that. "Go," He commanded, his voice leaving no room for argument.

Before you knew it, you were in the speeding car. The tension and sense of mission always left you silent, focused, and most of all, determined.

“He’s here. Do you see him? He’s dragging her toward the hole in the ice!”

Throughout all of it, not once did it cross your mind—the obvious fact that you’d have to set foot on the frozen lake. Before you even had a chance to react or fully realize it, Reid unexpectedly grabbed your sleeve, pulling you toward him. He seemed surprised by his own action, his eyes darting with adrenaline across your face.

“The ice won’t break, do you understand?” he said, not letting go of your arm. “It’s thick enough that cars can drive on it. “It’s safe, trust me. And if you feel like you can’t do it, just stay behind,”

His voice was surprisingly steady, offering a sense of comfort that you hadn’t expected. You listened, almost stunned, not just by the care in his advice, but also by the fact that he was even speaking to you at all.

You didn’t have time to respond or even nod; the car came to a stop, and every second counted. Somewhere deep inside, though, you felt a surge of gratitude for his gesture and words. Because as soon as you set foot on the ice, it was as though your senses vanished. All that mattered was the water—cold, sinister, and waiting for you deep beneath the blue surface.

Morgan and Reid moved ahead of you, with the latter turning his head over his shoulder. You saw it, even as the darkness quickly closed in around you.

“If you feel like you can’t do it, just stay behind,” echoed in your mind.

But you couldn’t just stand there and watch while the victim’s life was hanging by a thread. Focusing entirely on his words and voice, you moved forward, gripping your weapon tightly, yet with a steady hand.

And it was your shot, fired in a moment of desperate resolve, that brought the unsub down, giving Morgan the chance to catch the unconscious victim in his arms and rush her to the shore as quickly as possible.

You stood there, breathless, still holding the gun high, completely unaware of it until someone gently touched your hands, guiding them downward.

“It’s me,” Reid said quietly as you flinched. Only then did it start to sink in that you were standing on the ice. Your imagination began to feed you the feeling of the bone-chilling cold, the water pressing against your body with all its might. After all these years, still so vivid. You grabbed onto his arms tightly, your legs suddenly slipping beneath you. Why hadn’t they slipped before?

“Hey, careful. The ice is thick, remember? It won’t break,” he reassured you.

He held you tightly, offering you support as you both made your way to the shore, taking small, uncertain steps. You could barely breathe, let alone speak. Yet, a question loomed in your mind, one you were desperate to ask: why was he even still with you? Why hadn’t he just left you there, maybe for some internal satisfaction?

Finally, you were on solid ground, no longer gripped by panic. Still, your breath was rapid, every cell in your body shaking in spasms, but not in that teasing, playful way it had when you played the role of the bolter.

“Why did you do it?” you asked, still holding onto him like a lifeline. “I thought you were mad at me.”

Before answering, Reid studied you in silence for a moment.

“I could be furious with you, but I wouldn’t leave you there, alone and scared,” he said.

You opened your mouth, a warmth spreading across your chest, something that felt almost like a comforting embrace. But before you could say anything, the rest of the team reached you, with Elle hanging onto your shoulder, her voice full of concern as she asked how you were feeling.

In the darkness and the flood of emotions, his face blurred, along with the faces of the others. You closed your eyes for a moment, surrendering completely.

It was only then that you began to calm down, though it would take many hours before your hands stopped shaking.

You nervously paced around the office, two pairs of eyes watching you with clear amusement.

"Do you think he called me in because of that whole tie incident?" you asked, nervously biting one of your nails. "Shit, it’s definitely about that. It was so inappropriate, he’s probably going to fire me."

"Calm down," Derek said to you, the corner of his mouth constantly rising and falling. "First of all, if Hotch were going to fire you for every dumb thing that comes out of your mouth, you'd be gone after a week. Second of all, it probably has nothing to do with that. Knowing you, it’s probably some overdue paperwork..."

"You’re not helping," you said, raising a warning finger.

Elle’s laugh mixed with her yawn.

"God, I’m exhausted from this day. I’m out of here. Call me later and let me know what this was all about," she kissed your cheek as a farewell.

You briefly hugged her with one arm.

"Keep your fingers crossed," you asked them as they walked away.

Both of them raised their hands, making the gesture.

It was evening, and you had just returned to the office after closing the case. You had hoped to head home and sleep off all the emotions from the day, but then you found out that Hotch had called for you. And you had no idea why.

Before opening the door with his name on it, you crossed yourself in your mind.

"Listen, Hotch, about that tie, it was really just some messing around," you blurted out, before even fully stepping inside.

The man sitting at his desk raised an eyebrow. He wasn’t alone—across from him, in a chair, looking like a student called to the principal’s office for punishment, sat Spencer, looking just as confused as you felt.

"Did you want to see me now? Or did I mix up the time or the days...?"

"I wanted to see both of you," he replied, pointing to one of the two chairs next to Reid.

You exchanged a brief glance with your colleague. Since your last interaction on the frozen lake, neither of you had spoken a word, but the atmosphere wasn’t as tense as before. That didn’t, of course, mean that everything between you was back to normal.

"Listen, I’m just as exhausted as you, but I need to have this conversation with you now so we can resolve it as quickly as possible."

You shook your head in confusion.

"Resolve what?" Reid asked.

"Whatever happened between you two," Hotch started seriously, his gaze moving between your faces. "Any argument, I don’t care what it was about or how serious it is, it cannot affect your work or professional relationship in any way."

You couldn’t help it and let out a laugh. You imagined Elle’s expression on the other end of the phone when you’d tell her the real reason behind this summons…

"Hotch, there was no argument," you assured him, maybe not entirely honestly, but in an attempt to wrap up this somewhat, let's be honest, embarrassing conversation as quickly as possible.

Spencer nodded enthusiastically.

"Absolutely none. Never."

"I'm not blind or, as you’re both well aware, stupid," Hotch continued, his gaze shifting between you both. "I can see what's going on, and I’m telling you now—I don’t want any conflict in my team."

You let out a snort.

"So what are you going to do?" you asked challengingly. "Force us to shake hands and make up? If we do that now, can we finally go home?"

He met your gaze, his expression as stoic as ever, but you were certain—absolutely certain—that deep down, he was amused by it all. To your surprise, he suddenly stood up from his desk.

"No, I'm going to do something more effective," he declared. "I'm leaving you two alone for ten minutes. No one leaves this office. When I come back, everything needs to be settled. Understood?"

"Isn’t this some sort of elementary school method of discipline?" Spencer asked, raising his eyebrows, but out of the corner of your eye, you saw that beneath his amused expression, there was also a hint of concern.

"Exactly how it sounds," you agreed, briefly meeting his gaze before shifting it to your boss with a pleading look. "You're not our father, Hotch. We're adults, stop treating us like children..."

His hand landed on the doorknob without a moment’s hesitation.

"Then stop acting like children and talk to each other," he said, glancing at his watch. "I’ll be back in ten minutes."

You could’ve sworn there was a subtle smile playing on his face as he left.

You watched his figure disappear in disbelief.

And then, you turned to Spencer, who was already staring at you.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds smut #spencer reid criminal minds #bau team #doctor spencer reid #criminal minds fanfiction #dr spencer reid #criminal mind #dr reid #spencer reid smut #aaron hotchner #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

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madebycloud · 1 day ago

Text

You're here that's the thing

jinx x reader — 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

summary: Home isn't a four walls and a roof nor the material things that fill in it. It's the warmth in Jinx's eyes whenever she smiles at you, it's the little hands clinging to your shirt as they cross the street. Home is right here. (requested by anon) warnings/themes: FLUFF!! domestic ig, vulnerability (???), slight angsty at the end but happy ending <3 words: 5.7k notes: i'm glad nothing bad happened at the ending and they all live happily ever after :D

You're chowing down on a steaming bowl of seafood at Jericho's. Every bite is a savory delight, justifying your claim that this is Zaun's finest eatery.

A hooded figure quietly slides into the seat beside you, revealing familiar blue hair when they pull their hood back. Unfazed, you continue eating.

“Bad day?” you mutter, and the blue-haired person helps themselves to a seafood from your bowl without a word.

Life in Zaun is tough, especially after Silco's death, leaving room for chem barons to fight for power. What’s new?

Then, a kid catches your eye. You nudge Jinx. “Who's that?” You nod at the kid in the far corner.

Jinx, casually munching on your seafood, just shrugs, “Dunno. She's been following me.”

You stop eating and look over at the young girl who's been staring at you both, squinting slightly at her as your gaze shifts back to Jinx. She takes notice of your questioning look and quickly says, “She's not mine,” before taking another bite of seafood.

You roll your eyes at Jinx and then turn to the kid. “You hungry, kiddo?” you call out, gesturing towards the seat beside you.

She hops up onto the stool, though it's a bit high for her and you help her up. You order her a bowl of seafood like you and Jinx were having. She begins eating, her hands stuffing her face.

“So, kid, where's your parents, guardians? Shouldn't you be with them?” But her silence persists, her big, curious eyes locked onto yours.

You and Jinx finish your food and pay Jericho, walking out into the bustling lanes with the young girl in tow. Turning to Jinx, you shrug slightly. “Can she stay with us?”

Jinx looks at the child and back at you. “Do we even have a room for her?”

Weighing your options, you consider the practical aspect. The answer is likely a ‘no’, but with the environment of Zaun, leaving a child alone on the streets seems far from safe.

“She could use your room,” you suggest, glancing ahead. “I mean, you found her first.”

But Jinx isn't having it. “Nah, you're the one who brought it up, so it's your room.”

You and your parents once owned a house. Thanks to the all and mighty Piltover enforcers who played a role in your parents' disappearance, leaving the house unoccupied. Seeing an opportunity, you claimed the house, not only for yourself but also for your close friend who, without it, would have nowhere to sleep comfortably.

“It's my house.”

“Our house,” she corrects, smirking. “Considering most of the stuff there comes from me, it's not just yours. So that means–”

“By ‘comes from you,’ do you mean the stuff you've stolen?” Your brow furrows as you stop in your tracks, planting your hands on your hips as you stare her down.

Jinx shrugs nonchalantly, her smirk still present. “Finders keepers.”

You sigh, knowing you're not winning this argument, especially not in the middle of the street with people starting to watch. “Fine,” you relent. “She can sleep in my room. I'll take the couch.”

You crouch down to meet the kid's gaze, Jinx standing beside you with her arms crossed. “What's your name, little one?” you ask, but the child remains wordless, those big eyes staring back at you.

You glance at Jinx for help, but she's already thinking of names. “How about Pompom?”

The kid wrinkles her nose at the idea.

“Or maybe Pinky?” Jinx continues, grinning. “Or Sparkles!”

“How about ‘Isha’?” you suggest.

The moment the name leaves your lips, the child's eyes light up.

“Isha it is then.”

Jinx, a bit pouty, muttering under her breath, “She likes ‘Isha’ more, huh? Figures, it came from you.”

“What? It's a nice name,” you raise an eyebrow at her.

“Yeah, whatever.” She turns to Isha, poking the girl lightly on the nose. “Well, Isha, you're stuck with us now.”

Isha's eyes dart between you and Jinx. “More like we're the ones who are stuck with her,” you reply, chuckling, as you playfully ruffle the girl's hair.

—

It's been a full month since Isha started living under the same roof. You catch Jinx making her hold a gun, teaching her how to shoot.

You scoff, raising an eyebrow at Jinx, “Seriously, Jinx?”

Both Jinx and Isha look up at you, equally undeterred. “What? It's a fake gun,” Jinx defends herself, as if that explains everything.

You pinch the bridge of your nose, already feeling a headache forming. “That's not the point, Jinx. She's just a kid.”

“Pft, ‘just’ a kid.” Jinx rolls her eyes, clearly not understanding your concern. “It's harmless, I promise. Just a little fun.”

“If you're looking for something fun,” you reach into your bag and pull out a coloring book and colored markers. “I found these in the lanes,” you explain, offering the items to Isha. “Much better than play-shooting,” you suggest, giving a pointed look to Jinx before she can protest.

She watches as Isha's face lights up, her attention quickly shifting to the coloring book and markers. “But…” Jinx starts.

“No buts, Jinx. She's coloring now.”

Jinx lets out a heavy sigh, clearly dissatisfied, but she doesn't protest further. She pouts, leaning back against a wall as she watches Isha happily coloring in.

You join Isha, sitting next to her. Her young hands grip the markers tightly as she fills the pages with colors.

“Making something nice?” you ask, peering over her shoulder to see her work.

Isha nods, her tongue slightly sticking out of her mouth as she carefully adds some color. She glances at you, offering a shy smile before returning to her drawing.

Once Isha is finished with her drawing, she proudly holds it up for you and Jinx to see. The drawing shows three stick figures on a bright blue sky. The two tallest figures, with one that has what looks like braids, are holding hands with the small one in the middle. The three figures smile under the sun.

“Wow, look at that! It's us, all together.”

Jinx, though reluctant at first, can't help but crack a smile too.

She leans in closer, “Why are my eyes so big?” she snickers, pointing at the comically large eyes drawn on her figure.

You laugh along with Jinx, pointing to a comical squiggly line drawn below your feet in the picture. “And what's that supposed to be, hm?”. Isha giggles, a small blush creeping up her face.

“It's your shadow, duh,” Jinx quips back.

“In that case, my shadow looks like it ate too much and grew extra limbs.”

“Well, if your shadow's a glutton, mine's got tentacles.” She points to her shadow drawing, which indeed looks like it has several wriggly appendages attached to it.

“You know, I think this is fridge-worthy,” you grin, holding up the drawing. "What do you think, Isha? Do you want to put this on the fridge?"

You turn to Isha, who nods excitedly, clapping her hands together.

You hand the drawing to Isha, who eagerly takes it to the fridge. You follow her, lifting her up slightly so she can stick the drawing against the fridge door with colorful magnets. She smooths out any wrinkles and carefully adjusts it until she's satisfied.

“Ta-da!” you say, as the drawing now has a permanent place of honor on the refrigerator door.

“Not too shabby, squirt”. She glances at the drawing again, and then her gaze shifts towards Isha. For a moment, a soft expression appears in her eyes—a flicker of something you can't quite make sense of. “Who knows? Maybe one day we'll see this piece in a Piltover's museum, valued at a million golden hexes.”

“Only a million? I think it's worth a lot more. Maybe we should start an auction right here and now.”

Isha giggles, her small fingers tracing the colors on her drawing again.

“Alright, alright, don't go getting ideas. We don't need some fancy Piltie art collector trying to buy this and hang it in their mansion.”

“Come on, Jinx,” you nudge her. “Don't you think it'd be hilarious to see this hanging in some fancy mansion surrounded by all those fancy Piltover paintings? Maybe we should get Isha to paint more of this and turn this whole place into a gallery.”

—

You meant ‘place’ not your face.

Laying down on the couch, you squint your eyes open as you feel a moist sensation along your face. When your vision clears, you see Isha, giggling, marker in hand, and running away as fast as her legs can carry her.

“Hey!” You sit up, a chuckle rising in your throat. “You little rascal, come here!”

The sound of a door opening makes you pause. Turning, you see Jinx standing there, half-asleep and clearly irritated.

“What the hell is going on here?” she grumbles, rubbing her eyes.

A snicker escapes Isha's lips.

“Looks like you've got a new makeup look, Jinx.”

“What?” she asks, her voice still groggy from sleep.

Silence.

Jinx looks at your face. Isha's hand. Finally placing her own hand on her face. Wet mark on her face. Smear of color on her hand.

“Isha.”

You and Jinx exchange a glance. Grins matching hers. Without hesitation, you both rush after Isha, who breaks into a run.

Just as she turns a corner, you quickly change direction and outstretch your hands, successfully scooping her up into your arms and spinning her around, her hands grasping at your shirt and arms around your neck as she continues to giggle.

While still holding Isha, you see Jinx's eyes as her hand darts towards a nearby marker and begins to draw on Isha's face.

“Hold still, you little gremlin!” Jinx says, struggling to keep her marker strokes even while Isha wiggles and giggles. She manages to add a few squiggles and dots before Isha's laughter becomes uncontrollable, disrupting any further attempts at ‘decorating’.

“Come on, lemme finish it.” A few more ink-blots make their way onto the girl's face before she's set down. “Ta-da!” Jinx declares, wiping her hands on her pants.

Isha, still giggling, runs to the nearest mirror, who is practically bouncing on the balls of her feet as she takes in her reflection. She turns her head from side to side, admiring her new ‘makeover’ from Jinx.

Feeling a tingle in your chest, you steal a glance at Jinx, watching her smile at Isha.

Idiot, you silently scold yourself.

But your lips still curve into a small smile.

Damn it, you silently curse to yourself, hoping Jinx didn't notice you staring at her with that expression written all over your face.

But Isha doesn't miss that. She looks between you and Jinx, the gears in her young mind turning, and a sly grin slowly spreads across her face.

Oh. She knows something that you'd prefer to keep hidden.

—

Isha's been down with a cold.

Today, you made her a bowl of porridge. Jinx volunteered to help.

You stand at the stove, stirring the simmering porridge, with Jinx by your side, carefully cutting up some fresh fruit to mix into the meal. You carefully ladle the porridge into a bowl, checking to make sure it's just the right temperature for Isha's sore throat.

You glance down at the bowl, satisfied with the consistency and temperature, before moving it onto a tray along with a spoon, a glass of water, and the bowl of fruit.

You head towards Isha's room, with Jinx following close behind. You can hear the sound of soft coughing coming from inside, along with the rustle of blankets.

Pushing open the door gently, you enter the room to find Isha sitting up in her bed, her blankets piled around her. Her face is slightly flushed from the fever, and she looks a bit tired, but her eyes light up when she sees the tray in your hands.

“Here's your porridge,” you say softly, setting it down on the bedside table.

Jinx moves to the other side of the bed, plopping down next to Isha and gently placing a cool hand against her forehead. “You're still a bit warm.”

Isha nods weakly, trying to suppress a cough.

“But that porridge should help,” you add, settling on the edge of the bed and offering the bowl to Isha. “Slow sips, okay? Don't want you getting a tummy ache on top of everything else.”

Isha accepts the bowl and sips the porridge carefully.

“There you go,” you smile, watching as Isha continues eating. Jinx grabs the glass of water, holding it up to Isha's lips once she's taken a few spoonfuls.

Once she's done, Jinx continues to check on her, fluffing her pillows, adjusting the blankets, and giving her the occasional pat on the head.

—

It's late evening.

Jinx sits cross-legged on the floor, her back resting against the footboard of the bed where Isha is lying down. The little girl's eyes are focused on Jinx, her hands covering her face partially as if trying to stay up a bit longer.

Jinx tells a story she learned from Vander, one that he used to tell her when she was a child. A story about miners getting stuck in a mine and rescued by a mysterious, wisp-like woman that guided them to safety.

When Jinx finishes the story, she glances at Isha, expecting her to be asleep by now. Instead, she lies there and watches Jinx.

Peeking through the door, you expect to find Isha asleep, but she is still wide awake. Jinx looks like she's wracking her brain to think of more stories, still determined to get the little girl to sleep.

A soft chuckle escapes your lips as you settle down on the floor next to Jinx. “She's not tired yet, huh?” you whisper to Jinx.

“No, not yet,” she replies. “I've run out of stories to tell and she doesn't seem even a bit sleepy.”

“She's just like you.”

“Hush,” she says, trying to suppress a smile. “I'm not the one keeping her awake right now.” She turns back to Isha, who is still awake and watching both of you.

“Well, neither of us are helping,” you point out, looking at the little girl who's staring at you both. “Isha, it's time for bed. You need to close your eyes and sleep.”

Isha pouts, clearly not wanting to go to sleep just yet. She looks at Jinx and then at you, her eyes pleading for another story.

“Come on, kid,” Jinx says. “It's well past your bedtime. No more stories.”

Isha’s pout deepens, her bottom lip jutting out stubbornly.

You stand up from the floor, walking over to a nearby bookshelf where you keep various children's books and comics. After a quick rummage, you find a colorful comic book that should interest Isha.

You return to the bed, carrying the comic book, and sit down next to Jinx again. Isha leans forward, her eyes immediately drawn to the book in your hands.

“Found one,” you say, holding up the comic book for the little girl to see. Her eyes light up when she recognizes the vibrant cover.

Flipping open the comic book to the first page, you begin reading aloud about a group of animals in a forest. Isha listens intently, snuggled up in bed, her eyes darting between the images and your face as you read the story.

“Every day, these animals would wake up early,” you read, pointing to the drawing of the animals waking up and stretching. “Some would eat breakfast, some went to play, and some went to search for food.”

“One particularly lazy squirrel woke up late.” You turn over the page to reveal a picture of a sleepy little squirrel yawning and rubbing his eyes as the other animals were already out of their nests.

“By the time he woke up, all the nuts were already gone.” You flip over the page again to reveal an image of the squirrel, now wide awake, frantically searching for something to eat but finding nothing but empty trees and bushes.

“The squirrel was shocked and saddened that the nuts had run. But then,” you change your tone dramatically, “one of the rabbits heard the squirrel's cries and decided to help him!”

You turn the page again. This time, the picture shows the rabbit coming up to the squirrel, a nut in his paw. “The rabbit, seeing the squirrel's plight, decided to share his own breakfast with him.”

“The squirrel was delighted and grateful,” you read, and you turn the page to show an image of the squirrel happily sharing the nut with the rabbit. “The two of them ate and ate together, until their tummies were full and they fell asleep in a heap on the forest floor!”

You glance up from the book and see that Isha has finally fallen asleep. Her small head is now lying on her pillow and a tiny smile graces her lips, as if she were dreaming about the animals from the comic book.

You close the comic book and set it down, but then there's a weight on your shoulder.

Looking to the side, you see Jinx, who has fallen asleep. Her head rests on your shoulder. Her hair tickles your neck. Her eyes closed.Her mouth slightly open, softly snoring.

Still as a statue.

You find yourself staring at the soft curtain of blue hair, your fingers itching to reach out and push it aside.

But you don't. You can't. You don't want to wake her up. Don't move.

It would be a small action, but you know that it might wake her up, and the last thing you want is to deal with a grumpy face and her snarky comment.

But your hand moves as if it has a mind of its own. Inch by inch, your fingers close in until they gently make contact with her hair, brushing it back over her ear.

Jinx lets out a soft sigh, her head leaning into your hand as if aching for your touch.

Her face, now with her bangs brushed aside, shows her features—so fine, so distinctly her.

Your eyes trace her face. You want to hold her in a way that you'll remember forever. You want to know her in every way possible, to learn every inch of her, to understand every thought and feeling she's ever had.

Her arms are the only chains you'd gladly wear. Her eyes in which you'd forever be lost. Her smile is the one you can never say no to. Her voice is the song that you could listen to for hours.

You wonder if she would lean into your touch, if she would arch her head into your palm. Would she let you caress her face, your fingers tracing the slope of her jaw and the curve of her cheek? Or would she pull back, pushing you away?

But as quickly as it began, it ended.

You pull your hand away. Your fingers clenching into a fist and returning to your lap. The memory of her soft hair against your skin remains, burning at the edges of your thoughts.

Then Jinx slowly stirs from her sleep. She lifts her head from your shoulder, her heavy-lidded eyes meeting yours, then your mouth, then back to your eyes again.

You saw her throat move. Are you hallucinating? Is it just your imagination? You can't tell for sure. You wonder if your mind is playing tricks on you. Your thoughts are fogged by the way she's looking at you.

Her eyes linger on your face, tracing every contour, every feature.

Your heart is in your throat. You can hear it pulsing in your ears. You can feel your palms getting sweaty. You try to hold her gaze, but your own eyes are drawn to her lips, soft and slightly parted.

Finally, Jinx breaks the silence. “You're staring,” she murmurs.

You blink, her words snapping you out of your trance. “I–” you start to respond, then realize how stupid and obvious it sounded. “Just making sure you didn't drool on me.”

She chuckles, her hand pushing your face away from hers.

“Hey!” you say, putting a palm to your face.

You watch as Jinx stands up, heading towards the door, opening it slightly, and pausing to look back at you.

“Good night,” she says, eyes lingering on yours for a moment.

“Night, Jinx,” you reply, one hand still resting on your face.

You catch a glimpse of a small smile forming on her lips as she disappears through the door, leaving you sitting there with a palm still on your cheek.

You hear a soft, barely suppressed giggle coming from Isha's bed. Confused, you turn to look at her, only to find her looking at you with a wide grin.

“Isha,” you say, surprised, “I thought you were asleep!”

—

“You could have warned me,” Sevika grumbles. Isha continues to focus on coloring her hat.

“Fat chance,” Jinx responds, turning to face Sevika. “About what?”

Sevika glares at her, obviously displeased. “Your stunt at the checkpoint.”

“No idea what you're babbling about.”

“That wasn't you?” she scoffs.

Jinx pauses, a flicker of realization crossing her face. She glances at Isha with a knowing look, noticing the smirk on the child's face.

The conversation with Sevika continues, with Jinx growing more and more restless as it does. Once the discussion is over, Jinx rises from her spot. “I gotta go bother someone,” she says, before walking out.

You notice the look on Isha's face. Disappointment.

“Let's go, Isha,” you say, already grabbing a bat and some small balls. You don’t wait for a response, signaling for her to follow as you head to the door.

—

It's late, the sun having set and the moon now high in the sky. You and Isha had spent the previous hours playing, but Jinx still hasn't returned. Concerned, the two of you look for her.

Isha rides on your shoulder, her small hands gripping your hair. She looks at the surroundings for any sign of Jinx.

After some time walking and climbing, you end up on a rooftop. You both climb carefully, making sure not to fall.

Finally, when perched on the edge, you spot Jinx. She's sitting with her knees against her chest, looking out at Piltover.

You gently place Isha down on the rooftop, giving her a subtle nudge, gesturing towards Jinx. Isha catches your cue, nodding quietly and slowly approaches Jinx.

Isha carefully settled herself down beside her. Her legs dangling off the ledge of the rooftop.

You take a seat on the other side of Isha, settling down with a soft rustle of fabric.

Jinx continues to stare out at the city, her chin resting on her folded arms. “You guys found me, huh?”

Isha shifts her position, moving closer. You notice that she's looking up at Jinx, her small head resting against her arm.

Jinx glances at the child. She reaches over to ruffle Isha's hair affectionately.

“Couldn't stay away.”

“Yeah,” she mutters, “I guess you two are pretty stubborn.”

You reposition yourself, shifting your body so that you can lean back and rest a hand on the cold, gritty rooftop.

Jinx moves herself into a more relaxed position, leaning back and placing her hand on the rooftop next to yours. With her other hand, she pats at Isha, gesturing for the child to lay down.

Isha obliges, her small body now sprawled out across Jinx's lap. She fidgets a bit, clearly beginning to tire.

Watching over the city below while the moon hangs low in the night sky, a familiar touch breaks the silence, fingertips seeking yours.

There's a gentle pressure, a gentle caress, that causes your hand to twitch involuntarily, yet you don't pull away.

Her hand rests on top of yours , claiming its place as if it were always meant to be there. Jinx's fingers gently trace patterns across the back of your hand, almost like a secret language only she understands.

“Your hands are cold,” she continues tracing lazy circles with the pads of her fingers.

You hadn't even realized how cold your hand had felt until she pointed it out, and now it seems to be burning under her touch.

“Ever thought about wearing gloves?”

“Gloves?” you repeat, finding your own voice now.

“Hm, I guess not,” she responds, almost to herself.

Her fingers suddenly stop their tracing, and for a brief moment, you feel disappointed. But she quickly resumes, her thumb now brushing over your wrist, the pulse point.

Jinx glances up at you, a small smirk playing on her lips. “Your pulse is racing. Am I making you nervous?”

“No,” you mutter, though the speed of your pulse likely betrays your words.

“Uh huh,” she says. “You're a terrible liar.” She continues to hold your wrist, thumb now drumming a slow, steady rhythm against your pulse point.

“Relax,” she murmurs, her thumb gently rubbing against your pulse. “I don't bite... much.”

You try to calm your racing heartbeat, but her touch is making it difficult.

“I'm relaxed.”

Isha shifts in Jinx's lap, her body stirring slightly. The sudden movement snaps you out of your trance, both you and Jinx turning your attention towards the girl.

Jinx lifts her free hand and pats Isha’s head reassuringly. Her touch is soft and careful, not wanting to disturb the sleeping girl.

With Isha settled, Jinx turns her attention back to you. She still hasn't let go of your wrist, her fingers now massaging little circles into your skin. “You're awfully tense for someone who's ‘relaxed’.”

She studies you for a moment, her eyes roaming your face, then she suddenly releases your hand. The sudden absence of her touch feels like a loss.

Jinx sits back, creating a bit of space between the two of you.

“What's on your mind?”

“Just thinking.”

You frown, frustrated by her vague response. “About what?”

“About you,” she answers.

Her reply catches you off guard. You feel your cheeks warm, and you mentally scold yourself. Why is she having this effect on you?

“Me?” you ask, trying to remain calm.

Jinx glances down at the sleeping Isha, a slight smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah, and Isha,” she mutters, her hand absently playing with the child's hair.

Her eyes then dart back to you, studying you intently. “Mostly you, though,” she clarifies.

“Uh, me?” you repeat, mentally cursing yourself for sounding like a parrot.

Jinx hums, still absently playing with Isha’s hair.

"What... what about us?"

Jinx doesn't respond right away. Her gaze flicks between you and the sleeping child, as if contemplating something.

“I've got a habit of bringing trouble wherever I go.”

She turns to you, her gaze meeting yours. There's something almost pleading in her eyes, as if she's silently begging you to understand.

“I just-” she begins. “I don't want anything bad to happen to either of you... because of me.”

Her eyes search yours for a moment before she looks down at Isha. “I'm not sure what I'd do if something happened to you… either of you.”

“I care too much,” she blurts out, looking back up at you. “And honestly, it scares me.” There’s a pause as her eyes lock onto yours. You can see her shoulders tense, struggling to find the right words. “I don’t want to mess everything up. Everyone I’ve ever cared about has gotten hurt by me, or because of me.”

You ache to pull her into your arms, to soothe the worries that are weighing heavily on her shoulders. It takes every ounce of restraint you have not to. “No,” you murmur softly, shaking your head. “No, I'm not going anywhere. Neither is Isha.”

“You don't know what could happen.”

“Yes, I do,” you murmur. “I know there's a chance we might end up hurt. Or worse.” You take a deep breath, holding her gaze steady with yours. “But that's a risk I'm willing to take,” you continue. “Because being with you, right now, is worth it.”

She opens her mouth as if to protest, but you cut her off with a soft shake of your head. “No. No more talking. You've said what you need to say. Now let me say what I need to say.”

Eyes never leaving hers, you reach out slowly, giving her enough time to pull away if she wanted to. But she doesn't, and your fingers find their way to her cheek, gently cupping her face.

“I care about you too,” you murmur, your thumb tracing a gentle path over her cheekbone. “I care about the person you are, not just the person you think you are. I see the good in you, the good that you struggle to see in yourself.”

Her lips part, as if to utter another protest, but you gently press a finger to her mouth to silence her. “Let me speak. I'm not done yet.”

“Jinx I know you're afraid,” you continue, your eyes searching hers. “You're terrified of the possibility of me or Isha getting hurt. I understand. But you need to realize,” you pause, your fingers moving from her mouth to her chin, tilting it up gently so that she's looking you fully in the eye.

“You're not a curse,” you say. “You're not a jinx. Bad things happen, but that doesn't mean it's your fault. It’s not your fault—”

“I know.” She trembles under your touch. Her eyes glisten.

“No, listen to me. It’s not your fault.”

“I know.” Despite her best efforts, the dam is beginning to break.

“It’s not your fault,” you repeat. A single tear manages to escape, trickling down her cheek and into your palm. “You were just a child.”

“But I should have known. I should have—They're gone because of me. It's my fault.”

“No, no, no,” you cut her off. “It's not your fault. You were just a child. You were doing what you thought was the best to help them, to protect them.” You gently wipe the tear away with your thumb, your heart aching for her. You can see the battle she's fighting within herself, and it kills you that you can't do more.

“You are not defined by your past, by your mistakes,” you continue, your hand still on her cheek, feeling the slight tremble as she struggles to hold back her tears. “You are so much more than that.”

“You are loved,” you murmur, your fingers gently tracing her jawline, before moving slowly upwards to her temple. “By me, by Isha. And by many more people than you realize.”

For perhaps the first time, Jinx lets herself break. She leans into your touch, her cheek pressing harder against your palm. Her eyes never leave yours, seeking comfort, reassurance. She grips your wrists weakly, her hands trembling. “It's okay, I’m right here.”

“I'm not going anywhere,” you murmur, your thumb tracing small, soothing circles on her cheek. “No matter what happens, you hear me? I'm here to stay. We're here to stay. You're stuck with us.”

Slowly, the tears begin to subside. Her breathing steadies. Her body calming down.

You let your fingers slowly shift from her tear stained cheeks to her hair, gently playing with the strands. “I'll do everything in my power to keep both of you safe,” you continue, your hands moving down to her shoulders, giving her a gentle squeeze.

“I'm not some damsel in distress,” she mutters.

You laugh, leaning back on your hands. “I know you're not,” you assure her. “You'd probably kick my ass if I tried to treat you like one. But even the toughest people need someone to have their backs, right?”

Jinx huffs, though you can see the edges of a smile on her face. “That's a cheesy line,” she mutters, rolling her eyes.

“Maybe,” you admit. “But it's still true. You don't have to face everything alone,” you continue, hoping to drive the point home.

“Yeah, yeah,” she mutters, her hand resuming its gentle stroking of Isha’s hair. “You're annoyingly stubborn, you know that?”

“And yet?”

Jinx snorts. “And yet somehow... I tolerate you.”

Sensing the change in atmosphere, Isha mumbles incoherently, shifting slightly.

“Looks like someone's stirring,” Jinx coos.

With one final pat on Jinx's shoulder, you withdraw your hand, silently communicating that the moment is over, for now.

Her shoulders tense slightly at the loss of your touch, disappointment or perhaps longing in her eyes. But she quickly composes herself.

The little girl slowly opens her eyes, blinking sleepily and looking around disoriented. She rubs one eye with a fist, then glances up as if just realizing that she's in Jinx's lap.

Isha grins brightly when she sees Jinx, her tired eyes lighting up. She wriggles a bit, stretching her limbs and looking surprisingly cheerful despite being woken up.

“I think we should head back. It's getting late.”

Jinx nods, carefully shifting Isha in her arms as she stands up. The child wraps her arms around Jinx's neck, clinging to her like a monkey.

“Alright, kid, time to head home,” Jinx tells Isha, bouncing her up a bit in her arms. The girl giggles and buries her head into the crook of Jinx's neck.

Seeing Jinx like this with Isha is something else. She looks so... soft.

“Ready to go?” Jinx asks, looking at you. Isha wriggles, eager to get going.

You nod, gesturing for them to lead the way. Isha stretches out a hand towards you, wanting to hold onto you too.

“Looks like you've got a fan.”

“Nah, she just likes me that much.”

“That so?” Jinx huffs. “Or is she just using you to get to me?”

“You know she'd choose my company over yours any day,” you say, sticking your tongue out at Jinx.

“Oh, so that's how it is, huh?” She pokes Isha gently in the stomach, causing another giggle from the child. “Traitor,” she mutters under her breath before addressing you again. “I'm wounded, really.”

“You'll survive,” you assure her. “Somehow.”

The warmth of Isha’s grasp on your hand. The giggle that escapes her every time Jinx spins her around. The way Jinx's eyes soften when she looks at the child.

This, you realize, is what home could feel like.

notes: im so excited for act 4 on saturday!

#arcane #arcane x reader #arcane jinx #jinx x reader #arcane x gender neutral reader #arcane x female reader #arcane x you #arcane isha #isha #jinx and isha #jinx x you #jinx x y/n #jinx imagine

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pathologicalreid · 2 days ago

Text

come home with me | s.r.

in which you are chosen as the member of the BAU who gets to retrieve Spencer from prison

margovember

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: post prison spencer, the events of green light apply, jareau!reader, kiss word count: 1.45k a/n: ohhhh she's listening to too much hadestown again. oh noooo.

The foreboding gray structure that stood before you was much more intimidating than you’d remembered Millburn Correctional Facility was written next to the door in a sans-serif font, still, boring, intimidating.

You hated it here. You despised everything that this building stood for in your life. Above all else, you hated that Spencer had been trapped inside for three months. There was little to no communication between you and Spencer during his incarceration, which wasn’t for a lack of trying. The one and only time you’d gone to visit him in Millburn, your appearance elicited a wolf whistle from one of the guards—Spencer’s discomfort was enough to keep you away.

Waiting outside with Penelope, Luke, and your sister, the four of you were lined up shoulder to shoulder, everyone too nervous to move forward. “I can’t go in,” Garcia said, looking between you and Luke while she shook her head. She hated going to visit Spencer, every time she came back from the prison, her mood had been negatively impacted.

Nodding assuredly, you quickly leaned your head on her shoulder, “We’ll go get him.” In your hand, you gripped a small canvas bag, you’d shoved everything you could think Spencer might need upon release—including some toiletries that had been completely untouched in the apartment, you weren’t sure if he’d been able to keep up with his usual hygiene routine in prison.

You assumed he hadn’t been.

Luke had some kind of ulterior motive in mind while entering the prison, so you and JJ linked pinkies at the same time he gave Penelope’s shoulder a squeeze and started making his way toward the steel doors of the prison. The three of you needed to shed your weapons, locking them up with the guards before Luke jutted his chin down the hallway and promised to meet up with you later.

Your head spun as you and JJ worked through clerical issues with the prison. Spencer was in solitary right now, finally receiving the protection that he should have gotten months ago, but he had to stab himself in the thigh to get there. No one else had been told, but Penelope handed Emily her resignation when she found out. The concrete building was freezing, and you hoped that Spencer had been staying warm enough during his time here.

Spencer, Spencer, Spencer.

Every waking moment for the last three months had been spent trying to figure out how to get him out of this, and the team had finally done it. You resisted the urge to pinch yourself. This was real, you were here.

“Only one of you,” one of the guards said, entirely disinterested in the emotional turmoil you were currently going through.

Your eyes met JJ’s briefly, and her blue eyes widened before she shook her head, “You should go,” she insisted, holding out a hand in the direction of the door.

Tightening your grip on the canvas bag, you nodded nervously and stepped through the metal detector, following the armed guard down the hallway until you reached yet another door. He swiped his badge through the stripe reader and opened the door, holding it open for you.

Against your better judgment, you faltered, scared of what you might see on the other side of the door. The guard cleared his throat impatiently and your feet thoughtlessly brought you forward.

Spencer was on the other side of the door, and you felt ridiculous for thinking you’d be met with anyone else except for him. Hauntingly familiar brown eyes were boring into yours expectantly, and even though you had promised yourself you weren’t going to cry, your throat was sealing itself with proof of a lie. Your eyes burned and you opened your mouth to speak before tears had a chance to fall, “Come home,” you beckoned.

You broke when he did, lips wavering between a smile and a frown as he broke free of the regulations he’d faced in Millburn, and the two of you snapped together like there was a magnetic pull between the two of you. The bag in your hands dropped to the ground as your arms went around each other. He smelled like antiseptic and generic laundry soap, you couldn’t pretend like you hadn’t seen the bandage around his arm from where they’d drawn blood, but you pushed it from your mind in the interim, focusing on repairing your memory. Reminding yourself of the edges of his body. There were more ridges than you remembered, and your chest clenched at the recognition that Spencer was inherently changed. It would’ve been foolish of you to cling to the idea that he could go to prison and come back as the Spencer that had been keeping your mind company—the memory of him that couldn’t match reality.

He sniffled and buried his face in your neck, his hot breath on your skin as neither of you faltered in your grip of each other. Spencer once told you that hugs were inherently healing because of the boost in oxytocin levels, and you’d taken that to heart just in case you ever faced this very moment. You tightened your grip around his shoulders, and he was holding you so tightly around your waist that your feet lifted slightly off of the ground. If it were up to you, you’d stay like this for hours intertwining your fingers between his shoulder blades and holding him together. You’d maintain your embrace until your body heat welded the broken pieces of him back together and his sharp edges were sanded down with time. You pressed your forehead into his shoulder and sighed three months’ worth of worry away, and as that worry ebbed, a new name echoed in your head.

Diana, Diana, Diana.

Spencer’s mother was missing, and he released his hold on you as you drew in a deep breath. Your feet were planted firmly on the ground as the two of you looked at each other, exchanging hundreds of thousands of words between your irises. “Spence,” you whispered, “I brought your things.”

You crouched down and grabbed the bag from the floor, holding it open for him to inspect its contents, his smile made you feel like you were floating. You were sure they were few and far between recently. More than that, you knew exactly what he was smiling at. Instead of picking out two socks for him, you’d grabbed a handful of them and put them in the bag, giving him the ability to choose a mismatched pair to wear out.

He wiped at his nose with the sleeve of his jumpsuit, “Thank you,” he breathed, his eyes flickering over to the guard that was still standing behind you.

Nodding, you carefully took his hand and let the guard lead you somewhere he could get changed, you planted your feet on the side of the hallway opposite of the guard. You narrowed your gaze at the guard, keeping your eyes open until they dried, and you had no choice but to blink. Other than that, your glare was unwavering.

“Y/N?” Spencer said, opening the door slightly, “Can you help me?”

You slipped through the door, alone in the bathroom with him as he gestured to his tie. You frowned for a moment before you noticed what the problem was, his hands were shaking. Each of them trembling uncontrollably with what was likely a melting pot of different emotions, and without giving it a second thought, you reached out and took both ends of the tie in your hands, deftly tying the double Windsor knot around his neck. You were careful when you tightened the knot, refraining from bringing it right up to the hollow of his throat in case he needed room to breathe. You looked up at him, studying the unreadable expression on his face before you whispered, “I’ve got you.”

Spencer’s Adam’s apple bobbed as his lips parted, and to your surprise, he craned his neck to press his lips to yours, kissing you with three months of pent-up emotions—good and bad. You gasped against his lips before kissing him back, matching his ferocity as your lips moved gently against his, a knock at the door was the only thing to pry the two of you apart.

You tried to get a read on him. You tried to understand the thoughts that were flashing behind his eyes at the speed of light, but you couldn’t get it. You wanted to ask, you wanted to check in on him, but he spoke first, “Let’s go get my mom.”

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid angst #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds angst #spencer reid x fem!reader #written by margot

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gay-dorito-dust · 1 day ago

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I gotchu pookie bear. What about showing Viktor a cute little gadget we made for him from using spare parts while he works?

You know those long distance touch bracelets for relationships/friends? Yeah them and those long distance touch lamps are what the stars are in this fic, touch them twice and the other star will receive said touch.

You were quiet -more quiet then usual at least- as you were hunched over your workbench in the lab and biting your bottom lip in concentration as you looked over the very thing that had been preoccupying your mind for the past few weeks, maybe a month? You weren’t quite sure to the passage of time as you spend countless nights burning the midnight oil, making sure the star shaped trinket basic functions were still working.

It wasn’t much in comparison to the gadgets Viktor had made that you could see scattered across the lab, one was always within your line of sight, each one of them holding a purpose higher then the one you were making; but yours wasn’t made to serve a higher purpose, just one where you could give to Viktor as a way to say thank you for everything and helping you find your passion for creating things.

Not only that but also by being kind and willing enough to teach you the basics of wielding, guiding your hands with his soft, knowledgeable voice and understanding that this wasn’t as easy to you as it was to him whenever you made a mistake. Viktor truly was a one of a kind person and you couldn’t help but be thankful to have met him and have him bless you life in more ways then one. So much so that it had lead to you to this very moment, the trinket you held within your hand was small, no bigger then the palm of your hand and all five of it’s points dug into your skin the tighter you held it.

You then relaxed your grip on it as you looked it over, making sure there was nothing you’ve left unchecked and even tapped the middle of the start twice, which emitted a soft blue light that throbbed like a heart beat, something that had caught Viktor’s eye as he raises a brow.

‘What you working on over there my dear?’ He asks intrigued of the sleek metal star that rested in your cautious hands.

‘Something that I’ve been working on for a while.’ You replied as you rubbed a hand against your eyes, trying to rub away the feeling of exhaustion from the lack of sleep you’ve had as a feeling of doubt began to grow within you, making you second guess enter you should show Viktor your work. However your need to show him that his guidance payed off outweighed the hesitance as you moved closer to him and showed him the gunmetal grey star.

‘I’ve noticed that you’ve been cooping yourself within the laboratory for a while,’ Viktor says as he remembers the times where he’s came into the lab, only to see that you were already there either working hard on your personal project, or fast asleep against your workbench in the most uncomfortable position. Viktor knew he couldn’t say much as he was very much the same with his own projects, but seeing you unable to keep your eyes open as it was obvious to him that you prioritised the project above your own health, why? He didn’t know but he wanted to see what was so important that you’d forget basic human needs. ‘Mind showing me what it does?’ He then asks.

You then wordlessly tapped the star twice and the soft blue glow came back, throbbing like a heart beat, twinkles of blue disperse like a ripple in a ocean or like blinking stars before fading back to gunmetal grey. ‘It’s something that I’ve made so that two people may communicate with one another.’ You said as you put the star in front of Viktor before pulling out a matching sleek gunmetal star trinket of your own, showing him how it also glowed the soft blue of his star, before tapping it twice with your finger as a soft red glow rippled across the surface of the star; responding back as Viktor’s star received it’s message.

‘Fascinating.’ Viktor says softly as he picks up the star you’ve given him, running his thumb across it as the blue glow followed in its wake, causing your star to have a matching blue streak dart across it’s surface like a shooting star. Viktor then looks at you with pride in his amber eyes, smiling softly. ‘This was what you were working so hard on? Such a unique creation birthed from the mind of an equally unique person.’

‘Well I did have an amazing person to teach me the basics of welding and help me discover a whole new way to show my thanks to him.’ You said as you shrugged your shoulders, tapping your star twice and watching as Viktor smiled softly as his star throbbed with a soft red light. ‘He taught me a lot and I wanted to make him something special to commentate it.’ You add and Viktor grabs your hand, intertwining your fingers as he squeezed it in reassurance.

‘It’s for me?’ Viktor asks.

You smiled. ‘For us really, to make sure the other hasn’t died by overworking themselves.’ You joked as you squeezed his hand back, happy to see him happy as he continues to admire the metal star and your efforts that went into making it. It made all those sleepless nights and gruelling days all the more worth it as he places the star next to his notebooks, within his immediate line of sight on his workbench. ‘We do share that common trait of pushing ourselves beyond our limits,’ Viktor chuckles before tapping the star twice, your star responding in kind nearby, ‘but I’ll be sure to use this should I think you’re unnecessarily staying overtime in the lab like you have been as of late.’ He adds as he gives you a playful but knowing look.

You raised your free hand in surrender while the other hand caressed the back of his. ‘I had to make sure they worked you can’t fault me for that surely and besides you’re no exception either mr hexcore. It’s as though you live and breathe the laboratory.’ You defended yourself and Viktor made a face that told you that he conceded, knowing that you were right, but still he wasn’t one to let you get away with such self destructive behaviours similar to his own. He feared that he might’ve rubbed off on you a little too much, but gazing back at the star made his heart warm at the thought of you working so hard on something for him and only him.

‘While I cannot fault you by any means, however that rule also applies to you as well.’ Viktor begins as he lets go of your hand and begins to tinker with his own little project, not like you didn’t mind as you always loved watching Viktor work, it relaxed it weirdly enough but you guessed that was all apart of Viktor’s due diligence to always keep his hands busy and working. ‘You’ve made something extraordinary my dear and I praise your mind and ability to make something to bring people together when they’re miles apart; truly an extraordinary thing that not even I could’ve thought of. You should be proud because I am.’ He finishes.

Your heart fluttered in your chest as you smiled giddily to yourself at his praise. ‘I am proud and I’m glad to have made you proud too.’ You said softly.

‘You always make me proud regardless and will continue to make me proud tomorrow, the day after that and so on.’ Viktor reassures, his eyes never once looking away from his work but you knew the small smile gracing his lips were for you. ‘You never cease to amaze me as you shine brighter, like a star.’ He adds and all felt right in that moment as a comfortable silence befell you both as you just existed within the company of the other in harmony.

…

However all that felt like a far away dream now as you sat in the very lab that once warmed you, now leaving you cold and more alone then ever. Viktor’s gadgets looked upon you form their shelves as you attempted to make yourself small within your old chair, metal star in hand as you tapped it twice, watching with lifeless eyes as the star throbbed a soft red light and waited.

And waited.

And waited even more for a response, for a reaction, anything to prove that what you had witnessed was a lie and a horrible dream that you’ll wake up from. Nothing came back to you, the soft blue light didn’t respond to your call and you were left staring at the metal star -that looks about as hopeless as you- before you dropped it to the floor while burning your head into your knees as you silently sobbed into the fabric of your jeans.

Viktor was gone. He had been for a long while and you -in a fit of denial- didn’t want to admit to yourself that you had lost the most amazing, brilliant, most beautiful man you’ve ever met in your entire life. He was a once in a lifetime, the brightest star in the sky that you looked towards for guidance and reassurance but he’s gone now.

You were left alone with everything that he’s ever touched, which all looked lifeless now that he was gone, never to touch a wielding tool ever again. You closed your eyes tighter, completely ignoring the star on the floor as it throbbed twice with a soft blue light, arcane runes scattering across its surface; assumably letting you know that someone was there to respond, even miles away from you.

#arcane #viktor arcane #arcane x y/n #arcane x you #arcane imagines #arcane imagine #arcane x reader #viktor x you #viktor fluff #viktor imagines #viktor imagine #viktor x reader #viktor x y/n

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magicisrealandsoismyally · 1 day ago

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Okay, thought we were being like, chill, but I guess that's a kindness only afforded to people you consider to be women, so I'm gonna break this down piece by piece here, a lot to address.

"purposely obtuse or intellectually dishonest"

right off the bat the fact I disagree with you means I'm being intentionally wrong and evil. There's no room for me to be misguided, or making mistakes, or being uninformed, I'm either playing stupid or lying. Got it.

I "either hate AFABs, or don't take harm against them seriously". Once again, another false dichotomy. I take harm against women incredibly seriously, I just don't think the biggest threat to women is trans women. I think we have the same enemies, conservative men in power. I said you were fueled by fear because I was trying to be nice. It's not just fear. It's anger. Misdirected anger. You, and many others, have decided the easiest thing to do is hate.

Yeah. It is in fact transphobic to demand sex segregated spaces given that a true biological sex isn't fucking real. That's why it's "Assigned male at birth" or "Assigned female at birth". I've been assigned a lot of things throughout my life. So have you. Are you going to tell me those assignments were always accurate? I mean hell, with the amount of cis people out there, their accuracy rate is definitely above 50%. Still not accurate tho.

Transphobia is both the people trying to murder us, and the people, who don't want us in spaces that are away from the people trying to murder us. You are aware that the same cis men wanna kill us both right? You've arbitrarily drawn a line in the sand because you are grossly misunderstanding how trans people work. The number one piece of advice I see on this site from transfems, is how to avoid being SAed. By cis men, by cis women, by trans men. It's so common, that it makes me question if I even want to be in spaces with y'all. You wanna talk about fear? I'm fucking terrified. All the time. The instant I come out to the world, I get to spend the rest of my life, knowing that at any moment, someone says anything negative about me? and my life is over. Because people like you, will believe them. Because the scary transfem must be the person oppressing you. Because its easy, to villainize the minority. And it's easy to decide he's a monster. And all the while, she loses everything just for being an easy target.

You wanna talk physical safety? 83% of genderqueer victims of fatal violence are trans women. People love to kill us.

AMAB privilege is not real. I was not socialized male. I think you have a perspective on how the patriarchy functions that hasn't seen the other side of the fence, so let me go ahead and elaborate on that. Being a Man, is something you can fail out of in the patriarchy. It's a club that is nigh impossible to enter, but really fucking easy to fail out. Under the patriarchy, I am not a man. I failed out of that shit at the age of 8 when I said I didn't like sports. When I did anything "girlie" at all. When I cried. I was a crybaby (according to my family) and a faggot (according to the other kids at school). And from that moment, I was a target. Always have been. I wasn't socialized male, I was socialized as a failed man. Most trans girls are treated that way from a young age. I did not benefit from the patriarchy I was shoved around. I have gotten into an absurd amount of fights that I never started because some fucking asshole decided to beat the shit out of the fag. I spent like a week on tumblr before hearing other shared experiences about this kinda thing. Literally not hard to talk to trans women about this stuff if you, yk, try.

"We don’t need to check genitals I would have no problem with the manliest most masculine most passing trans man in an afab space because no matter what hormones or surgery are involved they cannot rape and impregnate me with their penis the same way an AMAB person could."

How do you know he's trans. How. Tell me right now how you tell the difference between a cis man and a trans man with bottom surgery. Do that without being transphobic, please. Find a way. I'm looking for something hilarious to read today, it's been a long one. Because if you don't have a way, your entire transmisogynistic utopia falls apart here. You can't tell if someone is trans. It's about identity. You cannot tell if someone has a penis. No matter what you do. You cannot tell someone's assigned gender at birth.

And how wonderful, you mentioned prisons, just read about this one. Did you know when transfems are imprisoned they get placed with the most violent cellmates? It's a tactic to reduce prison violence. Give the most violent people their own live in target. They get called prison wives. It's called V-Coding. So yeah, prisons are messed up. For both of us. If only we could talk about that and unite to fix that oh wait that's literally the whole point of having transfems in feminist spaces, crazy how that works.

"Also trans AMAB people commit sex crimes at an even higher rate than cis AMAB people"

WHERE IS THE FUCKING SOURCE. I am tired of TMEs and their constant stream of libel demonizing trans women. All of your nonsense statistics is so fucking stupid. Where are you getting these numbers? The sex offenders list? The one that as recently in the 80s included anyone who crossdressed or hit on a person of the same gender even if they were reciprocating? I literally have heard cis lesbians complain about that shit on this site, you're not even being a feminist by citing sex crimes, you're being a cop. Fucking being trans counted as being a sex criminal for most of American history. Drag queens, trans women, and crossdressers get accused of sex crimes all the fucking time, you have no critical thinking god fucking damn.

"which again did not START segregated they became that way because AMAB people could t be trusted not to rape/assault AFAB ones"

Yeah no lmao, (this next paragraph is going to be USAmerican centric because yk, that's what I learned about growing up) they kicked literally all queer people out when women got the right to vote, both lesbians and bi-women had to fight their way back into these spaces in the decades prior. I feel like we forgot about the Ellen Show or smth? Like feminists did not fucking go to bat for her after she came out. Groups will turn on their supporters the instant they decide they don't need them. Mainstream Feminism turned on people of color and queer people who put their own movements on hold to support the women's right to vote so fucking fast. It's American history too, all I had to do to learn this was have a pulse in my US history class.

Also “capitalism is real because it impacts me in a negative way but all other forms of oppression where I might be considered the privileged one in the dynamic is just hysterical people distracting from capitalism”

Girl, reading comprehension, try it out for size. I did not say these systems of oppression are not real. I'm saying demonization and fear of minorities (like, yk, trans women) is a tool of the existing power systems to make you hate us and not your actual enemy, the people in power (like, yk, rich people who are usually cis white conservative men). You keep bringing up how awful existing systems like prisons are but you just, do not analyze who fucking set those systems up. Private prisons are owned by the rich, not by the trans woman you're yelling at who is 4 bad days away from giving up and killing herself.

If trans AMAB people don’t want to be housed with cis ones, they can do the legwork and create those spaces for themselves like AFAB people did they do NOT have the right to commandeer our movement and literally erase our rights and protections because not allowing AMAB people into these vulnerable spaces might give them the big sad.

Okay so first you tell me feminist spaces weren't originally segregated by sex, and now you tell me it's an AFAB only movement? Because I know for a fact trans people have always been at bat for feminism. American white women said the same shit to women of color between 1920-1965. Cause the instant we become expendable, y'all throw us aside.

commandeer our movement

Really? Do you genuinely think trans women could ever outnumber cis women? What cartoon candyville are you from where there are more trans women than cis women? How the fuck are we going to commandeer the movement? We're like, 0.3% of the population at most. What are you talking about.

YEAH MY GUY IM FORCED TO LIVE LIKE A FUCKING PREY ANIMAL!!!

Okay so for starters, transwomen are also in constant fear. We have literally been hunted, this is just, like, a historical thing. Second, I'm not a guy. Don't call me that. You cannot honestly tell me you're not transphobic and then proceed to use exclusively masc terms to refer to me. That's just wild. Playing along with the tranny does not make you not a trans ally. You're still a transphobe just cause you're fine with trans men.

Some fear is completely rational

Yeah. We're both completely justified in our fear. I do not build my politics off my fear. You do. That's the difference. No matter how terrified I am of TMEs, I still fight for y'all. Always have, always will.

Gender is literally fake and varies from culture to culture. Sex based oppression is real and fucks over the lives of AFAB people worldwide.

Ohh, damn, so close, you'll get it next time I'm sure. See the trick is BOTH OF SEX AND GENDER ARE FAKE. Genderqueer people just admit that it's about self expression. You literally just described how fallible sex assignment is by talking about intersex people, it's like, hella cultural. Sex based oppression is real. So is Gender based oppression. Because people are shitty about fake shit, all the time, we're on tumblr, the "death threats over shipping" website.

You cannot tell me you think you're not transphobic and then claim gender oppression isn't real. I feel bad for any trans people who have the misfortune to interact with you. I hope one day you realize you fought on the wrong side of history. And if not? I hope they speak of you in the same breath as the grown adults trying to stop Ruby Bridges from attending school, in the same breath as the cops at Stonewall. You have an excellent day. I probably won't, but what's new. I'm sorry you're so afraid. I'm sorry you fell for it when they told you who to be afraid of. I'm sorry I couldn't do more. If anyone wants sources on this stuff, i'll add links to posts getting into it, a lot of it's screenshots and i'm not about to make this any longer than it is. There's more ofc, but I can only cite what links I have on hand, y'all can do your own research, read like, any transfem blog while they still exist. https://www.tumblr.com/honeylemony/767694258735136768?source=share https://www.tumblr.com/marxism-transgenderism/767536279224270848/okay-ive-said-before-that-part-of-why https://www.tumblr.com/girldogmystic/766813723287502848/i-wanna-get-more-specific-with-this-according-to

"OP is a terf" is a thought-terminating cliche meant to keep you from questioning the status quo and keep you afraid of being labeled a heretic should you come to your own conclusions about anything.

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tswiftupdatess · 7 hours ago

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Taylor Swift talking about working on The Eras Tour, re-recording, performing with a broken heart and the joy and safety the Tour brings to fans at The Eras Tour Book:

“I'll never forget the call when I explained my idea of the concept for The Eras Tour to my team. At the time, I was working on the Midnights album and if we were to do what I've always done, I would've embarked on planning The Midnights Tour. But there's nothing I hate more than doing what I've always done.

“We're going to call it The Eras Tour and each album will have its own chapter, it's own world.” I told them that I want to fully commit to each era, musically, stylistically and aesthetically. They should feel like time capsules. If we do this right, I said, we can celebrate and honor both new fans and fans who have been here from day one.

It had been 6 years sice I'd toured. In those 6 years, a lot had transpired for me creatively. I release Lover, folklore, evermore, and eventually Midnights. In another real of my priorities was my passion project: re-recording my first 6 albums that were sold away from me by my former record label. Reclaiming my past made me fall back in love with it. Revisiting that past work made me want to honor it and honor what the fans had done for me with the Taylor's Version albums. And so the new albums and my re-records left me with the dilemma: HOW on Earth are we going to play all of this music live? I decided to create the longest, most ambitious show I'd ever even attempted. Averaging at 3 hours and 15 minutes, with 45 songs played. My goal was for every fan to leave that show knowing I gave them absolutely everything I had. I made a promise to myself to be physically and mentally tougher than I ever had been before. To be more disciplined and commited to my health, fitness, and stamina. Thankfully, I'm surrounded by my incredible crew, band, singers, and dancers who all matched my dedication to the massive scale and challenges of this show. We would go on to play this show in the pouring rain, in the blazing heat, in the thickest humidity, in the wildest winds, and in the bitter cold. We would do it if we were sick or exhausted or injured. We would do it with a broken heart. We do this because we love having the rare opportunity to create happiness and wonder up on that stage. We do it because we know it takes time and effort and money and energy to plan out coming to a concert. We do it because every friendship bracelet traded has the potential to become a new friend, and you never know what dreams can be sparked if we succeed in painting a dreamscape in every city we visit. We do it because people need an escape from how brutal life can be, and it is the honor of a lifetime to be that for them, if only for a night. And although we are all on our own in this big scary life, somehow it doesn't feel that way when we're singing the same words as 80,000 other people wearing glittery face paint. We do it because life comes in waves, in phases, in brilliant flurries of magical moments, and all of these things come together to create…Eras.

Here is the official retrospective of the most wondrouds tour of my life, my beloved Eras Tour.

See you next era..”

(November 29, 2024)

#taylor swift #the eras tour book #the eras tour #november 29 #taylorswift #swifties #taylor nation

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archiveofvirtue · 2 days ago

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lovely kook!reader’s favorite thing to do is tease jj, never missing an opportunity to do so, especially when he is so unbelievably charming and desirable

content / jj maybank x fem!reader, fluffy, jj and reader being annoyingly cute with each other, slightly suggestive, some not so innocent touching, jj being a flirt, kissing, barry

Your laugh echoed like a melody and your silky hair was catching the sunlight as you darted around John B’s chateau, JJ hot on your heels. “y/n! you can’t run forever!” JJ called, his voice laced with mischief. His sandy blonde hair was a tangled mess, and his crooked grin only grew wider as he gained on you.

“Stop! JJ, I mean it!” You shrieked between laughs, your heart pounding with excitement and a little anxiety. You glanced back over your shoulder, smirking. “You’re insane!”

“Yeah, insane for you, princess!” JJ shot back, doubling his speed.

The other Pogues were scattered around the chateau. John B was busy messing with the HMS Pogue’s engine, Pope and Kie were prepping some snacks, and Sarah lounged on the nearby hammock, watching the chaos unfold with amused eyes.

“You two are exhausting,” Sarah called lazily, shielding her eyes from the sun.

You bolted toward the water, feet kicking up sand. But so was JJ, his footsteps coming closer and closer.

“JJ, don’t you dare—” you warned, but before you could finish, he was on you. Strong arms wrapped around your waist, lifting you off the ground as you squealed.

“Gotcha!” JJ teased, his voice buzzing with excitement. You squirmed in his grip, half laughing, half furious. His lips barely brushed against the back of your neck, yet you felt goosebumps all over your body, his closeness alone leaving you breathless.

“Let me go!” You demanded, trying to wiggle free, but JJ just adjusted his hold, walking you toward the water like it was his life’s mission.

“C’mon, y/n. Don’t be such a kook about it,” he teased, shooting you a smirk that you definitely didn’t find charming. nope. not even a little.

“JJ Maybank, you better not!” you threatened, voice sharp despite your giggles. “I’m serious!”

But JJ, being JJ, didn’t care. He stepped onto the dock, the cool water splashing up his calves. You shrieked again, kicking wildly as you tried to free yourself.

And before you could argue, he let go, the water splashing in all directions as you plunged in, screams cut short by the force, while JJ stood there, hands on his hips, feeling victorious.

“See? Not so bad!” he said smugly, grinning down at the spot where you’d gone under.

You cursed him in your head, but what he could do, you could definitely do better.

Holding your breath for as long as humanly possible you stayed under the water, muffled voices reaching you. And when a few more seconds passed and you didn’t resurface, JJ’s grin started to fade.

“y/n?” he called, leaning over to peer into the water. The waves rippled, but there was no sign of you. “Okay, stop messing around. This isn’t funny.”

Another moment passed. JJ’s heart dropped like an anchor. His mind raced, panic swallowing his earlier confidence.

“y/n!” he yelled, fear in his voice. “I’m serious, where are you?!” He didn’t wait for an answer. He dove in, his arms slicing through the water as he searched.

But just as his hand brushed through empty water, you surfaced silently behind JJ, a mischievous glint in your eyes. With a firm push on his shoulder, you sent him stumbling forward in the water.

"Payback’s a bitch!" You teased, laughing as you wiped the water from your face.

JJ whirled around, his jaw clenched. "y/n!”

“What the fuck? I seriously thought you-" His words faltered the moment his eyes caught on you. Well, more your tits.

The water had soaked your white shirt completely, and now the dark blue lace of your bra peeked through, clinging to your skin and giving JJ a clear view. His face flushed, his mouth opening as if to speak, but no words came out.

You noticed immediately. Oh, he was so easy to read. Smirking, you leaned a little closer, loving the way his blue eyes darted nervously from your face to anywhere else but your tits. The cocky, wild JJ, suddenly at a loss for words because of you.

"Eyes up here, cowboy," you said, voice sweet as honey, reaching out to grab his chin and tilt his face back up to meet yours. His jaw tightened under your fingers, but he didn't pull away. Your eyes locked. It was just you and him.

Your smirk softened into something more serious. You didn't plan on liking him this much, but JJ had a way of getting under your skin like no one had for a while. So without a second thought, you grabbed his face with both hands and pressed your lips to his.

JJ froze for the briefest moment, caught off guard, before he melted into your kiss like he'd been waiting for this all day. His arms instinctively wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against him as the kiss deepened, the heat between you two undeniable.

Your fingers tangled in his wet hair, tugging slightly just to feel him groan against your lips, while JJ’s hands wandered down to the curve of your back and then falling onto your ass, squeezing slightly and making you gasp.

He kissed you like he had something to prove, it’s been way too long since he got to taste you and now he really couldn't get enough of you. You didn't want to admit it, but neither could you. This boy was driving you crazy.

Your heart raced as you let yourself lean into him, chest pressed against his. For a second, you felt completely lost in him—his touch, his taste, the way he whispered your name against your lips like it was the only thing that mattered.

If it wasn’t for the sake of the others you’d keep going, hell maybe you would even go as far as letting him fu—no, enough.

Breaking the kiss, you pulled back just slightly, forehead resting against his. Your breath hitched as your hands slid down his chest, feeling the rapid rise and fall of JJ’s breathing.

“You’re really something else, y/n.”

he whispered, his breath hot against your lips, making you smile.

Soon the sun had dipped low, leaving behind a beautiful orange sky, feeling the breeze on your damp hair as you rode toward your house with your blue bike, a quiet smile on your lips. JJ still lingered in your thoughts, the way his lips felt on yours, his laugh, his stupid grin. But you shook it off.

Focus, y/n. Dinner, parents, keep it cool.

The Cut was quiet at this hour, the faint hum of cicadas and the occasional bark of a dog the only sounds heard. But as you rounded a familiar corner, you slammed on your brakes, skidding slightly on the dirt road.

There he was.

“Barry?” You said, surprised. You hadn’t seen him in over a year—not since you’d gone MIA, leaving behind your reckless, wilder days. But here he was, leaning casually against his motorbike, his dark eyes lighting up when they landed on you.

“Holy sh—y/n?” Barry straightened up, his face breaking into a wide grin. “Well, damn. I thought I’d seen a ghost.”

You smirked, hopping off your bike and resting it against your hip. “What, you think I was gone for good? Not a chance.”

Barry took a step closer, his rough edges softened by the genuine surprise in his voice. “You look… different,” he said, tilting his head as if trying to figure out what had changed.

Your smile turned sly as you leaned in slightly, flashing your teeth. “You mean these?” You asked, pointing at the tiny sparkling gems now adorning your teeth.

Barry’s jaw dropped slightly before he let out a low whistle. “Oh, come on now. What’s this?” He reached out, his thumb brushing your chin as he tilted your face up for a better look.

You didn’t flinch—you and Barry had always been like this, all playful touches and jokingly flirting with each other. “You like them?” you asked.

He chuckled, showing off his old golden tooth as he flashed you a grin. “You kidding? We twinnin’ now.”

You laughed, swatting his hand away gently. “You wish. But thanks. You’ve got good taste—guess I rubbed off on you.”

He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jorts, still shaking his head like he couldn’t believe you were standing in front of him. “Man, it’s good to see you. It’s been too long. Where you been, huh? Forget about us down here?”

“Never, but..” you started, biting down on your lip in nervousness. “Things just got… bad. You know how it is.”

Barry nodded, his expression shifting to something softer. “Yeah, I get it. But you’re back now.” He smiled, “Tell you what, why don’t you come by tomorrow night? Me and some of the guys—just like old times.”

You hesitated, shifting your weight on your bike. Were you really ready to come face to face with the ghosts of your past?

“Sounds fun, but I’ve got plans. Midsummer thing at Figure Eight. You know, kook duties.”

Barry smirked, crossing his arms over his chest. “Right, of course.” But there was no bitterness in his tone, only a hint of teasing. “Well, if you change your mind, you know where to find me. Just don’t forget us little people while you’re out there, sweet thang”

You rolled your eyes, but your smile lingered. “I’ll call you.”

“You better,” Barry said, his grin as sharp as ever.

With that, you pushed off on your bike, pedaling away, but not without one last glance over your shoulder. Barry watched you go, shaking his head with a low chuckle.

“Still the same troublemaker.”

find all other parts here!

something big coming up soon !!

tags 🏷️ @gibson-g1rl @starkeysprincess @drewspinkbunny @drewsarms @rafescokewhore @rafesweetie @rafeslacy @rafesangelita @rafey-baby @nativegirltapes @maybanksbaby @httpsdrewstarkey @dolcekissy @moremaybank @cherrygirlfriend @cosmicanakin

#lovely kook!reader x jj maybank #lovely kook!reader x rafe cameron ❀˖ °#lovely kook!reader x rafe cameron #lovely kook!reader #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #rafe cameron #barry obx #obx fic #jj maybank fluff

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hrrtshape · 3 days ago

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BUSTING MYTHS WIDE OPEN.

welcome to chapter five of HRRTSHAPE’S series: REMINDERS FOR WHEN YOU’RE DOUBTING SHIFTING. in this episode, i’m going to be helping setting the record straight once and for all. shifting gets so wrapped up in drama, false promises, and tiktok-worthy mysticism, but the tea is piping and grounded in reality.

𖥻 MYTH #1. PEOPLE IN YOUR DR ARE WAITING FOR YOU.

FALSE. RING DING DING DING DING !! they are not hosting a welcome party. the moment you shift, you’re simply waking up AS that version of yourself. you’re already living there—your dr self is mid-life, mid-moment, just existing like, “oh, hey.” nothing changes for them when you shift; it’s like jumping into a running movie as one of the actors.

𖥻 MYTH #2. YOU HAVE TO WALK THROUGH A PORTAL LIKE IT’S A FANTASY NOVEL.

FALSE. no magic keys, mirrors, or coraline-esque portals here. shifting is subtle AF—one minute you’re in your cr (current reality), and the next, BOOM, you’re THERE. the "travel" part is internal, and your consciousness just movesto a different layer of reality. it’s like going from one dream to another, except it’s fully lucid and intentional.

𖥻 MYTH #3. YOU HAVE TO VISUALISE EVERYTHING PERFECTLY OR IT WON’T WORK.

FALSE. perfection is a scam. you don’t have to memorise your script word-for-word or see your dr in 8K HD. intent and focus are what matter. even if your visualisation feels a little blurry, as long as you know where you’re headed, you’re fine. it’s not about artistic talent; it’s about aligning your energy.

𖥻 MYTH #4. IF YOU SHIFT, YOU MIGHT NEVER COME BACK.

FALSE. BABE, RELAX. you aren’t tethered to your cr, or your dr, or to any other existing reality. shifting isn’t a “bye forever” situation unless you specifically decide to make it one. and even then, you can return to your cr if you choose.

𖥻 MYTH #5. YOU’LL FEEL LIKE A STRANGER IN YOUR DR BECAUSE IT’S NEW.

FALSE. you’re already you in your dr. you’re not “visiting” or “starting fresh.” you’re syncing with a version of yourself that’s already in the thick of it. the memories, relationships, and vibes are already there—it’s like waking up after a nap and slipping back into life.

𖥻 MYTH #6. SHIFTING ONLY WORKS IF YOU USE [INSERT WHATEVER TRENDY METHOD HERE].

FALSE. the julia method? the pillow method? THE SPIRAL STAIRCASE THING??? cute names, but you don’t need any specific method to shift. methods are tools, not rules. what works for you might be completely different, and that’s okay. some people use visualisation, some use meditation, whatever, whatever. but you don’t neeeeeeeeeeeed any of those.

𖥻 MYTH #7. YOU CAN’T SCRIPT [BLA BLA BLA] BECAUSE IT’S UNREALISTIC.

FALSE. sis, you’re literally shifting into another reality. the concept of “realistic” goes out the window. wanna live in hogwarts? have 300 million followers? be married to your celebrity crush? WRITE IT DOWN. you’re the architect; there are no limits except the ones you believe in.

𖥻 MYTH #8. IF YOU DON’T FEEL SYMPTOMS, YOU’RE DOING IT WRONG.

FALSE. mind you, most “symptoms” are just your body falling asleep. not everyone gets tingles, vibrations, or floaty feelings. some people feel absolutely nothing before they shift. you don’t need a dramatic broadway show to prove it’s working. sometimes, it’s as simple as poof—you’re there.

𖥻 MYTH #9. YOU CAN’T SHIFT IF YOU DOUBT IT WORKS.

FALSE. doubts happen; it’s part of being human. shifting doesn’t require unwavering faith—it requires action. you can shift even if you’re unsure, as long as you stay open to the possibility. it’s about persistence, not perfection.

𖥻 MYTH #10. YOUR DR WON’T FEEL AS REAL AS YOUR CR.

FALSE. your dr is just as vivid, tangible, and sensory-rich as your cr. you can touch, taste, hear, and live it all with the same intensity. the only reason your cr feels “more real” is because you’re used to it. once you shift, your dr is your new “real.”

𖥻 MYTH #11. SHIFTING TAKES WEEKS OR MONTHS TO MASTER.

FALSE. time? who? shifting is as quick as your mind allows. some people shift within hours, while others take longer because they’re still working through doubts or fears. there’s no universal timeline, so stop comparing yourself.

𖥻 MYTH #12. IF YOU FAILL, YOU’LL NEVER SHIFT.

FALSE. failing isn’t the end—it’s just part of the process. you’re learning what works for you. every failed attempt brings you closer to that sweet, sweet click where everything aligns. KEEP. TRYING.

𖥻 MYTH #13. YOUR CR SELF WILL DIE (OR BE IN A COMA STATE) WHEN YOU SHIFT.

FALSE. dark much? your cr self doesn’t “die.” nor does it go into a coma until you come back. it’s still there, chilling, doing what you do in your cr. shifting is about expanding, not erasing. think of it like opening multiple tabs in your browser—you’re not closing one, just switching focus.

𖥻 MYTH #14. YOU HAVE TO HAVE A SCRIPT.

FALSE. scripts are very much optional. they’re a great tool if you like structure, but not a requirement. if you can visualise or simply feel your dr in your heart, you’re golden. the universe doesn’t care if you wrote an essay or not.

𖥻 MYTH #15. YOUR CR AND DR SELVES WILL COLLIDE OR MIX UP.

FALSE. they’re like parallel lines. each version of you exists in its own reality without crashing into the other. you’re not gonna accidentally bring dr memories into cr unless you script it or focus on retaining them. and no, your s/o won’t somehow gift you a necklace, and you bring it back. that’s impossible. unless you want to script/visualise your s/o gifting a necklace you have in your cr already ! then that’s just cute.

𖥻 MYTH #16. SHIFTING IS DANGEROUS.

FALSE. fear-mongering alert! shifting is a mental and spiritual practice, like meditation or lucid dreaming. you’re just expanding your consciousness, not diving into the upside down. you won’t die, okay? pinky promise.

𖥻 MYTH #17. YOU HAVE TO MEDITATE FOR HOURS IN ORDER TO SHIFT.

FALSE. meditation is great, but it’s not the secret sauce. you don’t need to be a zen master, sitting cross-legged and humming for hours. shifting can happen in any state—falling asleep, daydreaming, even while scrolling tiktok.

𖥻 MYTH #18. SHIFTING WILL MESS UP YOUR MENTAL HEALTH.

FALSE. breathe, sweetheart. shifting is all about tapping into your consciousness and aligning with your desires—it’s not inherently harmful. if you have mental health struggles, be mindful and don’t overexert yourself, but shifting itself is NOT going to send you spiralling. it’s a tool, not a trap.

𖥻 MYTH #19. IF YOU SHIFT TO THE SAME DR MULTIPLE TIMES, YOU’LL MESS IT UP.

FALSE. you’re not gonna “break” your dr like it’s a glitchy video game. every time you shift back, it’s as if you’ve never left. your dr self is simply carrying on as normal, living life. there’s no limit to how many times you can shift to the same place.

𖥻 MYTH #20. YOUR DR WON’T FEEL EMOTIONAL OR PERSONAL.

FALSE. drs are INTENSELY personal! you’ll feel everything—love, joy, anger, heartbreak—just like in your cr. your emotions and connections in your dr are as real as any you’ve ever experienced. in fact, they might feel more real because they’re so aligned with your intentions.

𖥻 MYTH #21. YOU CAN ONLY SHIFT TO PERSONAL WORLDS.

FALSE. fictional, historical, modern-day, or even made-up worlds—the choice is yours. wanna date a 1950s movie star (like yours truly)? live in a vampire manor? rule 15th-century france? ALL OF THE ABOVE? go for it. you’re not limited by genre or category.

𖥻 MYTH #22. YOU HAVE TO LIE COMPLETELY STILL TO SHIFT.

FALSE. really thought we left this one in 2020 shifttok catastrophe, but some people might still think this !!! DON’T !!!! while some people prefer stillness to focus, others shift while lying on their sides, curled up like a shrimp, or even mid-fidget. your body doesn’t have to be frozen in rigor mortis for shifting to happen. comfort = key.

𖥻 MYTH #23. YOU’LL FORGET YOUR CR COMPLETELY WHEN YOU SHIFT BACK.

FALSE. you won’t wake up in your dr like, “who am i? where am i? WHO ARE YOU?” you’ll know exactly what’s going on because YOU scripted or envisioned this. your cr memories don’t just evaporate. although there might be a small chance that you forget your class schedule if you shift for more than a week. no biggies.

𖥻 MYTH #24. SHIFTING IS ONLY FOR CERTAIN PEOPLE.

FALSE. shifting is for EVERYONE. if you’ve got a consciousness, you’re qualified. there’s no secret society or elite club—it’s about your personal journey. period.

𖥻 MYTH #25. YOU HAVE TO BE IN A CERTAIN MOOD OR MINDSET TO SHIFT.

FALSE. it helps to be calm and focused, but you don’t need to be all sunshine and rainbows. bad day? feeling a little meh? you can STILL shift. energy fluctuates, and that’s normal.

𖥻 MYTH #26. WELL, YOU CAN’T SHIFT IF YOU’RE TIRED….

FALSE. in fact (🤓☝️), tiredness can HELP because your brain is more relaxed and closer to a meditative state. sleepy vibes = prime shifting conditions for a lot of people.

𖥻 MYTH #27. IF YOU DON’T SHIFT WITHIN X AMOUNT OF TRIES, YOU NEVER WILL.

FALSE. consistency is key. some people shift after one attempt, and others take months. there’s no deadline or expiration date on your potential to shift. keep showing up, and it’ll happen. you can start shifting today. right now.

𖥻 MYTH #28. YOU CAN ONLY SHIFT IF YOU’RE ALONE.

FALSE. sure, privacy might help you focus, but it’s not a requirement. people have shifted in shared rooms, busy homes, and even school libraries. the world doesn’t have to go silent for you to get your dream life.

𖥻 MYTH #29. YOUR “DR SELF” WILL BE CONFUSED BY YOUR PRESENCE.

FALSE. your dr self IS you. there’s no awkward “um, who are you?” “i’m XXX, who are you?” moment. you’re literally sliding into a version of yourself that already exists there, seamlessly. it’s not invasion of the body snatchers.

𖥻 MYTH #30. YOUR BODY IN YOUR CR WILL FEEL EMPTY WHILE YOU’RE IN YOUR DR.

FALSE. this one’s giving creepy, but nope, your cr body will feel normal. whether you’re asleep or awake, it’s still alive and well, just chilling while your consciousness explores elsewhere. think of it as your body being on autopilot while you take a vacay.

𖥻 MYTH #31. YOU’LL GET STUCK IF YOU SHIFT TOO LONG.

FALSE. there’s always a way back. whether it’s scripted (a safe word, etc.) or just you deciding to wake up in your cr, you’re not trapped in your dr. YOU hold the power to move between realities.

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sanemistar · 2 days ago

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TAKE ME BACK

contents ★ ex!geto x fem!reader, angst to fluff, exes then back to lovers, slightly ooc geto (?), 1.2k+ wc. requested for my milestone event. author's message ★ trying a new layout for this one :3 i honestly love this color combo plus these are my favorite colors ever <333

event m.list ★ jjk m.list

seeing your ex boyfriend suguru for the first time after the breakup left you with mixed feelings of both familiarity and unfamiliarity. in terms of appearance, he hadn’t really changed. he looked pretty much the same way as you left him except his jet black hair had gotten longer. however, something about his aura had changed. you weren’t exactly sure what it was, you just had a feeling that it wasn’t the same as before, it was a tad bit softer, more gentle, and it made you feel as if you were being in the presence of a completely different person.

tension began to rise as awkward silence filled the atmosphere around you. it was excruciating and you had a hard time breathing, your heart clenched painfully. you were anxious and nervous.

yet despite all that, deep down inside your heart was a part of you that wanted to see suguru again, which grew bigger when it actually happened, you were quite happy to see him again after all that time.

if you were being completely honest, you had never been able to move on from him. so in other words, you still had feelings for him. and if he ever asked you to get back together, you would do it in a heartbeat without a single hint of hesitation.

you knew he wouldn’t though, and these were only wishful thoughts on your part. because you were pretty sure things between you and him had ended once and for good that day. showing no signs of a reconciliation.

“you haven’t changed at all.” your eyes widened slightly, it was as if he was reading your mind. was it some sort of telepathy or something? you didn’t know. his voice pierced through your ears, and it got you thinking that his tone hadn’t changed in the slightest. his voice was still as soft as it could be.

“you too, sug—geto.” you almost called him by the nickname you gave him back when he was your boyfriend, but quickly realized and changed to his last name. however, it didn’t feel right to you. it felt so forced, simply because his nickname used to roll off your lips ever so effortlessly, your tongue was so used to the sound of ‘sugu’ as it rolled out naturally. so when you forced it to say his last name instead, it came off weird.

suguru chuckled, a somewhat sad smile made its way onto his face upon hearing his last name rolling over your lips. the sound of it felt foreign to his ears as it reminded him that you two weren’t in the kind of relationship that allowed you to be on a nickname basis anymore. it hurt him, and it hurt him deep.

because truth be told, he too, still loved you. he tried his hardest to move on with his life, he went out with many girls, and he even went as far as to sleep with them in desperate attempts to forget all about you as if he’d never met you. but to his misfortune, his attempts never worked out. you were simply unforgettable to him, he could never erase you from his heart even if he wanted to.

he had left his heart with you on the day you called it quits, and couldn’t manage to get it back to give it to someone else.

you felt as if time was frozen, and you were stuck in yet another prolonged moment of silence. with just you and suguru together, no one else.

your mind was constantly telling you to run away, to not look back and leave him behind. that you were better off without him. but your emotions took control over your actions as your heart refused to let your body move, and you remained still in your spot.

“i can’t believe i let you go,” suguru spoke for the first time in what seemed like forever, breaking that thick layer of silence. “i was such a fool, wasn’t i?”

his regretful tone caught you by surprise, you couldn’t believe that it was possible for suguru to regret a decision he made. yet there he was, spilling out his regrets in front of you.

you slowly parted your lips open, thinking of what to say back to him.

“isn’t it a little too late for that?”

that wasn’t what you wanted to say, you wanted to say that you missed him, that you still loved him, that you wanted to get back together with him.

but your mind was too quick to react. you wished you could take back what you said, but it was too late for that.

“maybe… but if i’m being honest with myself, i still love you. actually, i don’t think i’ve ever stopped loving you once.” you watched suguru admit that he still had feelings for you in utter disbelief. it was the last thing you expected to hear from him. how he looked at you while he was talking and how earnest he sounded were enough proof that he was being sincere and genuine, he meant every single word he said.

suguru on the other hand, felt some sort of relief washing over him after finally letting his suppressed feelings for you out of his chest. he didn’t know if he would ever get another chance to see you again, so he was more than determined to win you back. it wasn’t guaranteed that you would allow him in your life once again, but he was still willing to give it his all.

“so please just,” he paused momentarily, taking a deep breath before proceeding. “take me back to you.” it sounded as if he was pleading, perhaps he was indeed pleading. he was just desperate at that point as this was his last resort. but he didn’t care if he seemed desperate, he was able to put his pride aside and show you his weak side. to suguru, if showing his vulnerability to you was the price he had to pay for him to get you back, then so be it.

“you idiot, of course i’d take you back. i wouldn’t want to be with anyone who wasn’t you, i will always love you.”

that sole sentence was enough to bring you to tears because of how moving it was. you immediately run towards him and throw yourself in his arms as you wrapped your arms tightly around him as you bury your face in the crook of his neck, holding onto him for dear life. his body slightly flinched under your touch, but quickly reacted as his strong arms pulled you closer to him. your bodies were so close that you could feel the warmth of one another.

“welcome back, sugu.” you said in between your sobbing, finally allowing his name roll off your lips ever so easily. he smiled upon hearing his nickname being said as he gave the top of your head a series of small, tender pecks.

“yeah, i’m back home.” he hummed softly against your ear.

suguru had been lost for so long, but at last he was finally back to where he belonged, to you, his home.

𝜗𝜚 taglist: @unriding @lxnarphase @sylusdoll @itachiiwrites @itoshivy @17020 @creamflix @luv-lies @suguru-getos ( @gothsuguru + @hiraethwrote special tags for you my loves since you asked me about it )

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #suguru geto #geto suguru #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #geto x reader #suguru x reader #jjk angst #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen angst #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk fic #jjk imagines #jjk fanfic #getou suguru x reader

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seradyn · 1 day ago

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A Beast of Greed Who Fell in Love

In honor of the Sylus myth dropping, I got possessed by writing demons and wrote this in one sitting. At 7am (I work swing shift lmao) 🫠🫠

Sylus pov as he thinks about how he fell in love with you, and reader absolutely spoiling him with love and affection. Tooth rotting fluff, slightly suggestive at the end 😇

Not gender neutral, but no description of reader is given, just some pronoun usage. No use of y/n

Word count: 2190

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

Sylus could say, with utter certainty, that he had never felt such contentment before.

What more could an infernal creature desire, he wondered, than to have his most beloved treasure nestled into his chest, resting with him as he lay in that meadow of maroon flowers, swaying in the temperate breeze that blew across the grass? How could he fight the satisfied smirk that spread across his face as he looked down at her, his tail wound possessively around her leg, his arms cradling her fragile form as his clawed thumbs rubbed tiny circles into her skin. His heart beat, as he gazed at her, and he could hear it chant mine, mine, mine, a symphony of his most exquisite desires. And she, too, had a blissful smile on her face, eyes closed as she battled the temptation to nap. To let yourself be vulnerable and, in turn, fall prey to this most monstrous being, who held you so gently.

But you were already his, weren’t you?

He could see it, in the way your eyes lit up whenever you saw him, how you didn’t try to hide your love for him even slightly. He could feel it, when you both embraced, your hearts so close, he could feel them beating as one. He could taste it, when you were close enough to share a breath, when you leaned forward expectantly, like he hung the moon and stars just for you, like he was the reason there were bright summer days filled with laughter and silly dares, or that he caused the warm, cozy fires you huddled against in the cold, brewed the cup of hot tea in your hands, whose taste reminded you of cinnamon and family gatherings.

Like he was your world. And fuck, if he didn’t feel like it, with the way you looked at him.

Gods, he wanted that. To be your world. Forever he wanted that. To be your world until the stars went out, until the planets collapsed, until the universe winked out of existence, and he was plunged into darkness again.

Because you were his world, too.

He wasn’t sure when it happened, when you became more than a means to an end. Perhaps it was when he gripped you in his talons, ready to easily snuff out the life of another helpless interloper, and instead of seeing your eyes clouded with fear, instead of the begging for your measly life he expected, he saw them harden with defiance. Or, perhaps, it was the first time he brought you here, to this very field, where you held his hands so tenderly, kissed his claws as you profused how much you cared for him, how much he meant to you. Or, maybe, it was even today, when he took you flying again, how you laughed as the wind whipped your hair, and you reached out to run your hands through the passing clouds. Those raw, natural and alive moments where he could swear he’d never seen anything more beautiful.

Either way, he realized it didn’t truly matter. Because regardless of when you went from being some hopeless, hapless girl, and became the very reason for his continued existence, he was utterly consumed by reverence for you. If you asked him to raze the world, asked him to carve out his heart for you, he’d ask how thoroughly you wanted the earth to be scorched, how you would like his heart presented to you.

You were his. And he, yours.

His nose twitched, and he let out a soft sigh. He could scent you on the wind. This perfect, perfect creature. He wanted to consume it, gulp down your essence like one who only knew dry sand and crumbling earth feeling the lapping of ocean waves for the very first time. He wanted to submerge himself in it, drown himself in this warmth, this scent, this feeling that felt like how home was always supposed to feel.

Although, he was wise enough to know not to drink the salty brine, despite its temptations. If he allowed her sweet nectar to touch his tongue, he may not know how to stop. May not be able too until there was nothing of you left, trying desperately to feed an insatiable maw. He was a greedy thing, he was well aware, and knew if you permitted him a taste, you may never see the light of day again. His primal urges that demanded he sequester you deep in his cave of treasures, where you belonged, to hoard you like the most precious being that you were, would be too strong to fight. His urge to fucking lick you, clean you and cover you in his own scent, like the great wyrms did to court each other, as he was sure his own parents once did, would take over, and you would see the truth of the beast you laid with.

Perhaps, though, he didn’t do as well of a job hiding them as he thought. His beloved stirred, sitting up to look at him with what he could only describe as pure, unfiltered adoration. Your eyes - they sparkled brighter than any gem or coin in his collection. Like someone had flown high enough to chase the stars, managed to catch one in their rapacious claws, just so they could dust your eyes with its light. Your smile - bright enough to rival the sun, and warm enough that it felt better than basking on the smoothest, sun-kissed rocks. Your hair softly danced on the breeze, the mid evening sky an orange-gold crown on your head, and Sylus thinks he understood why mortals go to church so often; for a chance to see something half as divine as you.

Absentmindedly, you began to trace the red cracks along his chest with your fingers, watching as it is guided to the red jewel encrusted on his chest. He manages to suppress a delighted shudder, but allows himself the pleased growl that rumbles in his chest, much like a purr, as the soft pads glide across the shattered glass of his pearlescent skin. He watches in unconcealed fascination as your hand is led to his faintly glowing heart, before starting anew on a different line, further down. He lets his eyes close, leaning his head back as you map out his body, of how his scales turn to pillowy flesh and back again. He can feel when you finished on his left side, where you started, and move to the right, leaving no part of him un-lavished by your affections.

When you finish there too, he looks down at you again, curiosity scampering across his expression. You flash him a look briefly, a spark of mischief igniting in your eyes, before you abruptly lean forward and begin to pepper the edges of his ruby heart with kisses. He sucked in a breath through his pointed teeth, his eyes slightly wide as you surprise him again by utterly spoiling him. Pressure built in his chest, just below your sweet lips, and he let out a shaky breath, trying to find relief before those unfamiliar emotions became too much. His tail squeezed your leg as you rounded the arrow shaped emblem over his heart, not stopping until you covered the entire outline of it with your decadent touch. When you arrived back where you started, you paused to leave a long, drawn out peck directly on his crystalline heart. His eyes almost rolled back in his head in sheer ecstasy, his tail lightly thumping against your rear in pure delight.

You laughed as you pulled away, the sound like a swell of music that made him feel like he was floating. He couldn’t help but chuckle as you patted his tail to get it to settle, scooching forward so your face was right above his. He saw the intent in your eyes, that mixture of fire and wine that made him feel intoxicated, made him want to kneel at your feet, obey your every command.

When your lips touched his, it felt like he was in heaven. That magical place that mortals coveted more than anything. He had no doubt it was a fallacy made to comfort the dead and dying; a place of endless pleasure and devoid of suffering was naive to even dream about. But when your mouth moved against his, when he gently swiped your bottom lip with his forked tongue, and you opened your mouth to let him taste you, breathe you in…he thinks he may have just found it.

And it is his. You are his.

He hummed into your mouth, chasing your lips as you tried to gulp down air. It was a long moment before you parted, but you eventually leaned away from him. He had to fight the snarl that bubbled in his throat, his tail tightening around your leg just so, and a clawed, beastial hand coming up to cup the back of your neck. He pulled you back down, your lips reuniting, and he held your cheek with his other hand as he was returned to bliss.

You let out a surprised squeak as he did this, before letting out a giggle into his mouth. It took all of his willpower not to beat his wings against the cold dirt and lash his tail in complete euphoria at the sound. He nipped at her lips instead, thinking of how he would carve out the eardrums of anyone who dared to hear your angelic laugh. He was a greedy creature, and your sounds were his, for him alone. Your smiles would be directed at him alone, your laugh his to cherish alone. He must be a monster, he thinks, to steal the world's most precious flower and hide it away so none but him are permitted to admire its immaculate beauty.

But he is fine with that. He’ll happily play the monster, if it means he gets to keep you all to himself.

Slowly, you eased off his lips, yet you continued to kiss him, trailing a path up to the tendrils of scales that adorn his cheeks. He returned the favor, groaning quietly in appreciation as he pressed his greedy mouth into your neck, running his tongue along your pulse as you peppered his face with kisses. Although, because you simply must always do what he doesn’t expect, he finds himself frozen as you smoothly glide your hands up, grasping both his horns in your doughy palms and stroking them up and down, your nails scraping against his scalp as you reach the base of them. His head falls back again, a sound escaping his lips somewhere between a hiss and a purr. Gods, why did that feel so good? You must be an enchantress, a witch who has hexed him, to make him feel so many things he never even thought possible. He held you impossibly tighter, his claws nearly digging grooves into your back.

You chuckled from your place between his brows - he made it no secret he was putty in your hands. And it was because you cradled him so gently, allowed him to shape himself as he saw fit, that he permitted you to know such things. Would trust you, out of everyone, not to shape him in your own image, as you could if you chose. No, instead, he felt your hot breath roll across his ear as you leaned down to whisper to him.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

He let out a bated breath at that, pulling you away to look you in the eyes. He once anguished over this, thought himself undeserving. You are his most precious gem, the apple of his eye, his dearly beloved, deserving of being draped in only the finest from his hoard, bathed in the softest silks from faraway lands, cherished and worshiped above all else. Where does a creature such as himself find the audacity to ask for your hand as he walks into oblivion, he wondered?

But, now, he only smirks. “I’ll hold you to that,” he purred, winding his tail further up your leg in promise.

You nodded once, satisfied. “You better,” you say, taking his hand, pecking the back of it. “Because you’re the love of my life.”

Sylus smiles. A real, genuine smile, while his heart hurts with how full it feels, like it might burst from his chest and soar into the clouds, where he can laugh while he chases it down. He wondered if he were to throw himself from the highest cliffs, let the wind whistle past him, if these feelings, this lightness he now felt, would carry him into the sky, and he wouldn’t even need to lift his wings to fly.

He tilts your chin up with a single talon, rising to rest his forehead against yours. “And you are mine,” he whispered, prayed, revered. Declared it to all who would listen, could listen. “My beloved.”

Because now that he had you, secure in the knowledge that you were his, he was never letting you go.

You were his. Are his. Forever.

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

First Sylus (and LNDS) fic 🙌🙌 I have so many in the works and on the brain, including a huge long fic, but we’ll see what happens/what I post. One thing at a time 😌

Also it’s been like a year since my last fic lmaoooooo

#sylus x reader #sylus x mc #sylus x you #sylus #lnds sylus #lads sylus #lnds #lads #love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #my fic

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natlovesls2 · 2 days ago

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It Isn't Over

Lando Norris x Fem!Reader

*ੈ✩‧₊˚warnings: small amount of angst, minimal swearing, no use of y/n, short and honestly not that good

*ੈ✩‧₊˚word count: 900

*ੈ✩‧₊˚summary: Lando regrets the everything that has happened between you. Part two to this: part one

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚

Lando had silently hoped your Instagram stories only served to make him jealous. Perhaps you simply wanted to show him what he had lost– of course that had been nothing but wishful thinking, having heard from a mutual friend that you were indeed seeing some guy. He stood at the door of your apartment, hand slightly raised as he debated whether he should knock or not.

“Are you going to stand there all day or are you going to knock?” the sound of your voice shaking him out of his thoughts.

He hadn’t seen you in months, you looked as radiant as ever, “I miss you,” he blurted out, voice slightly shaky as he reached a hand out towards you,“I made a mistake, a big one, I know I did. I lie awake every night thinking about it.”

He noticed your hesitance, he wasn’t a complete idiot when it came to reading people despite what you thought of him. “Why don’t you come in, have something to drink,” you sighed, digging through your purse, attempting to find your keys.

“Thank you,” he said softly, watching as you opened the door to your apartment, letting him in and closing the door behind you. He scanned the living room for any sign of your moving on, perhaps a coat left by your new lover or a picture of a sentimental moment hanging on the wall, but he found none. Instead he was greeted by the same living room he had come to know during the duration of your complicated friendship.

“I guess we have a lot to talk about,” you led him to your kitchen, hand shaking as you poured him a glass of water, “do you want anything else to drink?” he shook his head, taking a sip of water.

“I don’t know where to start,” he admits, nervously running a hand through his hair. He was nervous, something he had never been around you. Lando had always been a confident person, especially around you, this was new. “Are you seeing anyone?” he asks.

“What?” you were confused by the sudden question, it hadn’t been what you expected him to say, far from it. There wasn’t anything that could have come out of his mouth that would have been expected but this was certainly one of the least possible things you would expect. In fact, maybe, an apology would have been more appropriate than whatever he intended with that question.

“I think I’m in love with you, and if you’re seeing someone then it complicates things. I saw that guy on your instagram– but that doesn’t change how I feel,” he rambled out a confession, burying his face in his hands, tugging at his hair.

“You think?”

“I am, I am so in love with you. And I made the worst mistake of my life, I know that. I just need another chance,” he said, desperately pleading with you, his tone the most serious you had ever heard from him. It hurt you, it hurt to know that it had taken him years to realize this. His eyes never leaving your face, hoping to find any sort of reaction that would reveal that your feelings for him hadn’t changed despite his foul treatment.

“Lando…” you started. He hated the way you said his name, how soft your voice still sounded despite the evident pain. “You hurt me in many ways. It was as if you saw me as less than human, just something to satisfy whatever needs you had,” you felt tears start to well up in your eyes, it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep calm. “And now you show up at my front door claiming to be in love with me? I find it all hard to believe.”

You remember one night that had been particularly hurtful– the night of your birthday. Lando had called you earlier that day, inviting himself over to your apartment. You had wishfully thought that he had remembered your birthday, despite the fact that he had yet to acknowledge it. When he had finally arrived that night you were not greeted with the words “Happy Birthday”. Instead he pushed his way into your home, kissing you and whispering against your skin about how much he needed you. It wasn’t until a week later that he had even noticed that your birthday had passed. So to say that you couldn’t believe Lando had truly changed was an understatement, but even so, you couldn’t bring yourself to forget about your feelings towards him.

“I’m not asking you to believe me. I'm asking you to give me another chance– an opportunity to prove to you that what I feel for you is real, that I truly do love you,” Lando took a step closer, his hand reaching out to brush away a stubborn tear that had made its way past the threshold of your eyes.

“One chance,” you whispered, letting your forehead rest against his.

“So you’re not seeing that guy you’ve been posting on your Instagram?”

“He’s my cousin,” you said with a small teary laugh, placing a kiss on his nose.

And maybe things would be different than they had been before. Maybe this time he wouldn’t ditch you at events for models who made you insecure or forget your birthday. This time he wouldn’t make you hate the way you looked. But only time would tell.

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*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Note: I had a lot I wanted to do for this but lost motivation and I didn't want to just scrap the whole fic so... yeah, I know its shit but I've had a rough month. Anyway, I just wanted to give the original a happy ending. My Decemeber shorts will be better (I hope), peace out

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cherryblessing · 3 days ago

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📎— TO LOVE.

SATORU & SUGURU × GN!reader

—GOJO SATORU

``to be loved by you feels like stepping out after the rain, the air hushed, the sky a tender gray. your eyes, like trembling leaves, catch the droplets of a passing storm, each one a mirror— tiny worlds where i see myself reflected, always cradled in your everything.``

To be loved by Gojo Satoru feels like curling up on the couch after a long day, your head resting against his chest as the soft glow of the TV flickers across the room. The movie playing is something ridiculous—so bad it’s good—but neither of you is paying much attention.

Satoru’s laugh fills the space, bright and carefree, as he makes snarky comments about the plot, his voice dipping into exaggerated tones to mimic the absurd dialogue.

You can feel the vibration of his laughter against your cheek, a quiet reminder of just how alive he is. His arm is draped around your shoulders, his fingers tracing absentminded patterns on your skin, and for once, there’s no urgency, no chaos, just the gentle rhythm of his breathing and the warmth of his body against yours.

Every so often, Satoru turns his head to look at you—not with the sharp, calculating gaze the world knows him for, but something softer, almost boyish. There’s something grounding in the way he watches you, as if you’re the only thing that matters in this moment, the only thing he wants to see.

When he leans down to press a kiss to the top of your head, it’s as casual as it is tender. “You’re not even watching,” Satoru teases, his voice low and warm.

“I am,” you lie, but it doesn’t matter, because neither is he.

His arm tightens around you, pulling you closer until you can hear the steady beat of his heart. It’s a sound that feels safe, refreshing, like stepping outside after a storm and breathing in the crisp, clean air. The rest of the world falls away, leaving just the two of you in this tiny bubble of peace and silliness.

And somehow, in that simplicity, there’s everything. The way Satoru holds you, so effortlessly, makes you feel cradled in something bigger than yourself—like even in his most unguarded moments, he’s giving you a piece of infinity. His love isn’t loud or overwhelming right now; it’s in the quiet gestures, the way he doesn’t move even though his arm is probably falling asleep, the way his thumb brushes against your shoulder without him even realizing it.

To be loved by Gojo Satoru is to find that even in the most ordinary moments, he has a way of making you feel extraordinary. It’s the safety of his warmth, the way he makes you laugh, the way he looks at you like you’re the best part of his life. It’s messy, imperfect, and utterly human. And as he starts pointing out yet another ridiculous plot hole in the movie, you can’t help but smile, because being here with him feels like home.

—GETO SUGURU

``to be loved by you feels like moonlight spilling through fractured walls, its silver touch stitching shadows with light. in the stillness of midnight, your voice carries like the first bird's song, gentle but insistent— a herald of dawn, softening the horizon. the sun breaks, and i see you there, shining just as fierce, just as constant.``

To be loved by you feels like sitting under the shade of a tree after a day that’s drained all the strength from Geto Suguru’s body. The morning’s training still lingers in his every muscle, a dull ache that he would normally ignore, but today he doesn’t have to. Not with you here. The warmth of your presence takes the edge off, softening the harshness of the day in a way nothing else can.

Suguru watches as you pull out the lunch you’ve prepared for him, your hands moving with the quiet confidence he’s come to admire. The dappled sunlight filters through the leaves above, flickering across your face, and for a moment, he forgets the ache in his shoulders or the heaviness in his chest. You hand him a neatly packed box, and he takes it, your fingers brushing for the briefest moment.

The first bite is simple but satisfying, a kind of care he hasn’t allowed himself to believe he deserves.

“This is good,” Suguru murmurs, his voice quieter than he intended. There’s a fleeting vulnerability in the way he says it, his words tinged with the unspoken realization that someone took the time to do this for him.

“Really good.”

You laugh softly, and it makes him pause. The sound is gentle, cutting through the quiet like a thread of moonlight slipping through fractured walls. It doesn’t demand attention—it simply exists, constant and steady, much like you. It’s in moments like these that Suguru wonders if you realize the weight you lift from him just by being here.

“You always forget to eat properly after training,” you tease lightly, and the corner of Suguru’s mouth lifts in a rare, unguarded smile. “So I figured I’d help you out.”

“Help me out, huh?” Suguru repeats, his tone laced with faint amusement, but his gaze is soft as it rests on you. There’s a kind of peace in your presence that Suguru hasn’t found anywhere else—a quiet understanding that feels like stepping into the stillness of midnight and hearing the first bird’s song, a herald of something brighter.

As he leans back against the tree, Suguru finds himself watching you more than eating. The way your eyes light up as you talk about something small, the way the sunlight catches in your hair, the way you look at him—not with pity, but with something fierce and unshakable. You remind him of the sun breaking over the horizon, shining just as constant, just as fierce, and he doesn’t know if he’s ready for it. But he knows he doesn’t want it to stop.

“Thank you,” Suguru says, his voice quiet but certain. The words feel heavier than they should, carrying more than just gratitude for the meal. Maybe he’s thanking you for more—for the way you soften the edges of his life, for the way you make him feel like he’s allowed to have moments like this.

To be loved by you, Suguru realizes, is to be held in a light that doesn’t waver, even when everything else feels broken. It’s constant, unrelenting, and impossibly kind. And for the first time in what feels like forever, Suguru allows himself to lean into it.

all writing, including poems are my own.

#📎.slips #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk geto #jjk gojo #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu geto #jujutsu gojo #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru fluff #gojo fluff #getou suguru x reader #geto x reader #geto suguru #geto fluff

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aliendes · 3 days ago

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SVT Reaction to you flinching during an argument

warnings: mentions of arguments and flinching during an argument, not descriptive, mentions of past trauma (?) maybe during one part, very tame and kinda fluffy, attempt at humour? man idk... let me know if I missed anything

remember my requests are OPEN for seventeen!

Seungcheol (S.Coups)

The softest man alive, fight me, I will die on this hill. Have you seen the video of Minghao cupping Cheol’s cheek and he instantly crumbles? Yeah, Cheol would immediately see you flinch or even step back away from him and he’d fold. He would never hurt you, you know that, he knows that, everyone who knows you both knows that. He literally worships the ground you walk on. But he can get heated in an argument with loud words and huge hand gestures, which might scare you. He would immediately lose the ability to be angry, or annoyed, or whatever at you and instantly start apologizing, cooing at you, and would spend the night babying you within an inch of your life. “You know I would never, ever do anything to hurt you, right princess?”

Jeonghan

Now this man can be mean, I can feel it in my bones. But he would never, ever, ever, hurt you. He is so gentle and kind, and while he can definitely have some sassy moments and might even say some things that can come off as rude, he would never in a million years raise a hand to you. If you are flinching because of him it’s probably because he’s making large hand gestures trying to get his point across, but as soon as he noticed he’d go all wide-eyed, drop his hands immediately, and completely forget what you were even arguing about. He’d make sure you allowed it before holding you and cuddling you the rest of the night, whispering sweet things into your ear as he rocked you.

Joshua

Another gentle giant. I can’t see him even getting animated enough to make you flinch, but if you did for whatever reason he is instantly caving and probably trying to make himself seem smaller to calm you down. Whether that means getting on his knees, sitting on the couch, or even laying down to continue the conversation, he’ll do it. But he will want to continue the conversation, though in a less heated way. Would run his hands through your hair, hold your hands and kiss your knuckles, and stare into your eyes as you spoke, telling him how you’re feeling as you both try to resolve whatever the fight was about in the first place.

Jun

Another one I can’t see actually making someone flinch, he is just too soft for his own good. But if you did flinch away from him during an argument he would be so confused by what just happened, maybe to the point where he’s looking behind him to make sure something else didn’t frighten you. Would end up losing his train of thought and reach out for you to comfort you. “Baby, you know I’d never hurt you!” Would probably pout at you after he made sure you were ok.

Soonyoung (Hoshi)

Another gentle man with loud words and big gestures. He is part of BSS and all of BSS can get chaotic and hyper. That said, he seems the type to be pretty quiet/docile during an actual argument. The only time I can see him accidentally scaring you is if he gets really heated and shouts/yells. If this ever happened he would see you flinch and immediately cool his anger. It would be like a switch is flipped. Would lower his voice, whispering to you to make sure you’re ok, and if you cried he would probably end up crying with you in hushed tones.

Wonwoo

He’s tall, and he’s broad, and he understands that he is much larger than you. He usually takes this into account during arguments specifically to avoid this from happening. Will usually sit down when arguing with you for this reason. The moment you flinch or try to move away from him he would probably get very steel-faced, berating himself for not being more mindful. You might take this as him being angry at you, which he would immediately crumble at. He’s not angry anymore, in fact, he just wants to make you feel loved. Will kick himself for the rest of the night and you might end up being the one to comfort him. “I feel like the worst boyfriend on the planet.”

Jihoon (Woozi)

The only member that I cannot see ever making you flinch, in any situation. Mans so calm and collected, if you are arguing with him he's probably sitting there with his arms crossed completely chill.

Seokmin (DK)

Another member of BSS and loud boy squad. He’s also pretty tall and muscular so if you ever flinched away from him during an argument I can see it resulting in immediate tears on his end. He would feel so incredibly awful for making you think he would ever hurt you that it absolutely breaks his heart. He would try to make himself smaller, tears in his eyes as he apologizes and makes you understand that he was just trying to get his point across. Might even act more subdued in his actions for the next few days until you promise him that you weren’t really scared of him. Sulky baby.

Mingyu

Another huge baby with a heart of gold. Because of his size alone I can see this happening with him if he is super heated or if the argument isn’t going his way and he’s trying to defend himself. Lot’s of arm movements. The moment you flinch his eyes are watering with unshed tears and he’s holding onto you for dear life. Hugging, kissing, cuddling you, completely forgets what the argument was about. You would end up reassuring him in bed later that you admire his size and strength so he doesn’t feel bad about himself for the next few days. Sulky baby #2.

Minghao (The8)

Can come off as cold and calculated, but I think this man is one of the most loving and romantic in the entire group (fight me on this). He’s also very level headed, but on the off chance that you do end up flinching during an argument, he would be super analytic about it. “Hey, come here. Sit down with me and tell me what’s going through your head.” Would make you sit with him, would rub his knuckles over your arm or shoulders as you spoke with tears in your eyes. Would make you talk it out with him before comforting you if that is what you need. Makes sure that you understand he would never hurt you and only wants to make sure whatever issues you had were resolved before you went to bed.

Seungkwan

Final member of BSS and definitely a loud, sassy boy. You’ve all seen him argue on national television before, so this is definitely something that could happen in your relationship. However, the moment you are flinching away from him he is pouting at you (you know the face) and looking at you with those pretty wide eyes like he doesn’t understand what just happened (he doesn’t). Wants to immediately figure out why exactly you flinched, will do whatever he can to make you feel loved and appreciated in that moment, but will definitely need reassurance later that you know he would never hurt you. Sulky baby #3.

Vernon

Might not even realize you flinched at first. Would be too in his head talking through whatever it was that you are arguing about that he doesn’t realize what has happened until you have tears in your eyes. “Baby? Was it something I said?” Poor baby will feel awful when you explain it to him. Maybe you have had bad experiences in your past that make you more scared when in arguments. Would listen and talk through it with you and promise to not make the same mistakes next time you argue, if you do. Would feel so bad after you resolved it until you reassured him that it’s ok.

Chan (Dino)

Precious baby doesn’t always realize when he’s getting loud or gesturing widely. When you flinched he would stop dead in his tracks, rethinking all his life decisions. You could literally see the calculations taking place behind those pretty boba eyes as he figures out exactly what movement he made to make you flinch. Would promise you and himself he would never do it again and would want to cuddle with you so closely the rest of the evening that he wouldn’t even want to let you go to get ready for bed. Literally clinging to your back like a koala.

#svt angst #svt imagines #svt x reader #svt reactions #seventeen reactions #scoups #jeonghan #svt #seventeen angst

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insidekatmind · 17 hours ago

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The Fascination with Tattoos~Levi Colwill

A minute of silence to appreciate him and his tattoos!

Your gaze is lost on Levi's arm, as it happens far too often. You’re both sitting on the couch at home, enjoying a quiet evening after a long day. He’s wearing a short-sleeved shirt, leaving his tattoos clearly visible as they wind along his muscular arm. Each line seems to tell a story, each design captures your attention. You can’t look away, and when you realize it, he’s already watching you with that mischievous smile that always makes you blush.

"Do you like what you see, love?" he asks, his voice warm and tinged with amused curiosity.

You quickly avert your gaze, embarrassed, trying to mask the heat rising to your cheeks. "I was just... thinking about what to cook tomorrow," you lie awkwardly.

Levi chuckles, leaning a little closer. "Sure, sure. So why were you staring at my arm for at least five minutes?"

You sigh, knowing you can’t escape his observation. "It’s just that... your tattoos are so beautiful. I can’t help but look at them."

He leans in even closer, propping his elbow on the back of the couch, his tattooed arm right in front of your face. "Oh, really? Which one’s your favorite?"

You bite your lip, hesitating. "The one with the roses. It’s so detailed, it almost looks real."

Levi raises an eyebrow, clearly entertained by your answer. "The roses, huh? I didn’t think you were into flowers."

You shrug, trying to play it cool. "I’m romantic, didn’t you know?"

"I know very well," he replies, leaning even closer. His arm is now practically under your nose, and you can feel the warmth of his skin. "Do you want to touch it?"

Your heart races, and you look at him with wide eyes. "What?"

He laughs softly, his voice a perfect blend of sweetness and teasing. "I said, do you want to touch it? I know you’re dying to."

You bite your lower lip, but eventually, you give in. Reaching out, you lightly trace the black lines of the tattoo with your fingers. Levi’s skin is warm under your touch, and he watches your every movement closely, as if you’re uncovering a secret.

"You really like it, huh?" he asks in a lower tone, almost whispering.

"I like everything about you," you admit, your voice a bit more confident now. "But the tattoos... they’re fascinating. They say so much about you."

Levi smiles, but there’s something different in his eyes now—a mix of pride and desire. "You know I got them to mark important moments in my life, right? But now, you’re making me want to get another one, just for you."

You look at him, surprised. "For me?"

He nods, his gaze serious but tender. "Yeah. Something that represents you, us. Maybe your name, or something only we’d understand."

Your heart tightens at the thought. "That would be amazing. But are you sure? I don’t want you to get a tattoo just to make me happy."

He takes your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. "I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t want to. You know how much my tattoos mean to me, and you’re such an important part of my life. Why not celebrate that?"

You look into his eyes, feeling the love behind his words. "Then I want you to choose the design. Something that reminds you of me but also has meaning for you."

Levi smiles, pulling you closer for a kiss that’s sweet yet intense. "You’re incredible, you know that?"

After a few minutes, when you’re both lying on the couch again, he can’t resist teasing you one last time. He lifts his tattooed arm, showing off the details you adore so much. "So... how many times a day do you think about my tattoos?"

You laugh, hiding your face against his chest. "Too many to admit."

He wraps his arms around you, laughing with you. "Perfect, because I want you to keep it that way. And next time, I promise I’ll get something special inked, just for you."

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straylightdream · 3 days ago

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so it goes…

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭: wen junhui x camgirl! f.reader

↳ Getting caught up in a moment. Lipstick on your face, so it goes. I'm yours to keep and I'm yours to lose.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: non idol au

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.6k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: angst, camgirl reader, kind of anonymous camboy jun, smut warning below the cut

an: this was inspired by the song so it goes.. by taylor swift. This another one of my stories inspired by reputation songs. This can be read as a one shot but these guys and there friends are mention in a series of loosely connected stories called all for you

𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: unprotected sex(mc is on birth control), camgirl reader, creampie, snowballing?? kind of anonymous camboy jun, dirty talk, oral (male rec), recording sexual acts, fingering & handjobs, thigh riding, masturbation, nicknames: (hers) baby, baby girl, (his) baby,

Long before you even met Junhui you heard about him frequently from your friend from college friend. You and her had grown closer in the last year when she took up being a cam girl just like you. Your life as a cam girl wasn’t planned but down on your luck you had heard plenty of girls talk about how they make bank off of it so you decided to give it a try. After a month and half of doing it you were making so much money you didn’t bother looking back. Your online persona “cherrybby” was something you tried to keep separate from your everyday life.

You weren’t ashamed of your career path by any means. You would prefer that close family don’t know and you don’t normally tell new friends about your job until you're comfortable. The only downside of your career is dating. You’ve been a cam girl for three years and hadn’t even been on one date. Your sex life consists of pleasuring yourself on camera. You don’t know the last time a man had touched you.

On a random Monday afternoon you were having lunch with your friend kitten who is now a cam girl. She telling you all about how her boyfriend Joshua gets off on being in the room while she films. You can’t help but be envious that she’s able to have a stable relationship and this career.

“Have you gone out with anyone recently?” She asked.

A soft chuckle passes your lips, “I haven’t had sex with a man once since I started this job.”

“Would you be interested in dating someone?” You know that she has a large group of friends and you’ve met a few of the boys and they’re all extremely good looking.

“I feel like if I go on a date with someone they need to know even before dating me about my job,” you sigh.

“I have a friend named Junhui. He’s like only one of my only friends I told about my job after Shua found out.”

“Have I met him before?” You’re trying to remember all the boys you met the one time you met her at the bar.

“No you haven’t. Junhui isn’t going to judge you for your job. He’s a really nice guy, he’s really hard working. He’s one of those nine to five guys who wears a suit to work everyday and works in an office.”

She was right he didn’t judge you for your career. Kitten managed to set you up with Junhui a week after you had lunch. He took you out to dinner and a movie. You asked him if he would be okay with your job and he told you he’s fine with it. He told you he respected you for how hard you worked to make money. The one downside to him was, he let you know he wasn't able to be in a super serious relationship but he definitely wanted to date. You took that as you were going to be together but you weren’t going to put a label on it right away.

It’s been four months and in your mind Junhui is your boyfriend even though you’ve never had the talk about labels. You learned very early on that Junhui has a thing for appearing in your videos but remaining anonymous. He often wears a face mask and makes sure you only see him from the neck down. He’s never taken his clothes off on camera. He has no problem fingering you until you’re practically screaming or playing with you or using toys on you.

He’s sitting on the edge of the bed with you straddling his strong thigh. He’s dressed in business attire coming over straight from work. He’s wearing tight slacks, and a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up showing the veins in his arms.

He always tries to see you before you go live. He made a joke about you riding his thigh and the next thing you knew he has you naked with your camera on. Your lips are painted a cherry color as your leave lipstick stains across the column of his neck. You grind your hips against this thigh getting the friction you desperately need.

It’s a blessing you live alone so you can be as loud as you need. Your fingers cling to his white dress shirt, rubbing yourself against his thigh harder.

“Fuck,” he softly moans. His hands grip your add helping you grind against him.

As you fall apart it takes everything not to moan his name. You instead opt for moaning, “baby” your name you only refer to him as on camera.

After you finish your stream you lay on your bed completely naked watching as Junhui stands next to the bed staring down at you. He’s fixing his tie that you had been holding on to as your orgasm washed over. “I wanted to suck the life out of you on camera.” You desperately want to give him head on camera or have him fuck you, but that’s against one of the only boundaries you have both set when it came to your streams. He wanted to remain fully anonymous and he didn’t want to be naked on your streaks.

He chuckles, “you can do it now off camera.”

“I thought you had to meet Seungcheol, Minghao, and Joshua at the bar?” You know he doesn’t have time for that.

“They can wait.” He unbuckles his belt.

“I shouldn’t make you late again,” you sit up slowly.

“Why don’t you come with me?” He pushes his dress pants and boxers down his strong thighs.

“It sounds like it’s a boys night.” He crawls onto the bed and strokes himself as he watches you crawl towards him.

He shakes his head, “it’s not, some of the boys are bringing their girlfriends. Shau is bringing Kitten, and Seungcheol is bringing Darling. Jihoon might also swing by and if he does his girlfriend might be with him.”

You lay on your stomach in front of him. You watch as he strokes his hardened length.

“Are you sure you want me to go?” You’re still always a little awkward when you go on outings with him.

“Yes I’m sure. Now are you going to suck me off like you desperately wanted to do?”

You can’t help but smile before you take over stroking him. He watched you with lust filled eyes. You slowly lick his sensitive head as you stroke him. “Are you going to tease me?” Hollowing your cheeks you take him into your mouth as far as he can go. The moans that pass his lips are absolutely intoxicating.

His fingers thread your hair pulling your hair away from your face.

“Fuck you’re so good at this,” he moans.

It doesn’t take long before he falls apart moaning your name. You hold him in your mouth swallowing every last drop of his release.

He pulls you up to him so you’re sitting on his lap. “I can’t get enough of you.” He crashes his lips into your not caring that he can taste his one cum on your tongue.

Leaning against the bar, he stares at you intently watching as you’re talking to Minghao and Kitten. You can feel his eyes burning into you. It’s intoxicating knowing that you’re the only thing he can focus on.

“You know I’ve never seen him so fascinated by a girl,” his roommate Minghao says.

“Seems like Junnie is down bad for you,” Kitten says smiling. He’s not the only one who is down bad. You’ve been seeing him for four months and it’s safe to say you are very in love with him. The problem is he hasn’t labeled your relationship and hasn’t mentioned being in love with you. “You know before you Junhui was so focused on work he never had time to date or go out. Since he started seeing you he's been more social again.”

“My dear roommate Junnie isn’t great with commitment. He never has been, he seems different with you.” You hope that means that he plans on defining your relationship soon.

“He’s the first guy I have dated in years and honestly I really love being with him. He’s kinda perfect for me.” Junhui is everything you’ve ever wanted in a partner. There is something special about the fact he’s so accepting about your career. Whatever you do Junhui doesn’t judge you.

“I’m lucky you introduced me to him,” you give Kitten a smile.

Joshua comes over wrapping his arms around her waist like pulling her back for a kiss.

Looking over at Junhui you give him a come hither look. Pushing himself off the bar he excuses himself from his conversation with Seungcheol. He comes over taking your hand in his. Placing a gentle kiss on the top of your hand. You lean in close to him and instantly feel a warmth take over you at being close to him.

“Can I spend the night at your place?” He asked.

“Of course.” You love when he spends the night. Your place gives you more privacy since you don’t have roommates.

You spend the night talking to Junhui friend’s who you now consider your own friends and when ten o’clock rolls around Junhui uses this as his opportunity to tell everyone he’s tired and needs to go to bed. Taking you by the hand he leads you out of the bar. The moment you’re in his car his hand is on your thigh telling you he can’t wait to have you naked.

The moment he walks into your apartments he drags you off to your room. With little effort he has you naked.

He has you on your side with your leg hooked over his arm as he stuffs your tight pussy full with each slow thrust from behind. Your hand reaches behind you, tangling your fingers in his hair. He leaves a trail of kisses across your shoulder. Definitely leaving bruises in his path. You adore how intimate this whole thing is between you. You don’t feel the need to try and come off as sexy. You can just be yourself and enjoy the way he’s making you feel.

“Baby-“ he moans in your ear.

He knows all the ways to make you fall apart.

“Rub your clit.”

Silently you follow his instructions. The coil in your stomach tightens as you’re close to falling apart.

As a white hot wave washes over you, you hold back desperately wanting to admit you love him.

It’s been two weeks since you went to the bar with Junhui and his friends. In those two weeks you’ve realized that you are indeed very much in love with him. He’s been super busy at work so you haven’t gotten to see him as much as normal. That doesn’t stop you from talking on the phone daily and even stealing a few minutes alone when you can.

You're making yourself a little snack before you go live. You’re already in your lingerie you plan on wearing. Dressed in a sheer blush colored bra that does nothing to cover your nipples and a pair of crotchless matching panties.

Your front door opens and you peek your head out of the kitchen to see Junhui walking in. He’s dressed in his normal business attire he wears to work. You didn’t plan on seeing him today. He had mentioned he had dinner plans with some of the boys.

“Hi baby,” he smiles, walking towards you. “I see I found you in your work clothes.”

“I was going to stream soon.”

“You look mouth watering,” he walks toward you. He backs you up until your butt hits the kitchen table. “Am I allowed to play with you before you go online?” If he’s asking to play with you off camera, you know that definitely means he wants to be naked with you. He just doesn’t want to toy with you while others watch.

You give him a playful pout, “you know I can’t say no to you.”

Without a word he picks you up, sitting you on the edge of the kitchen table. He stands between your legs. You tugs on his tie pulling him closer to you. “You didn’t go home after work?”

“Why would I?” He cocks his head to the side. “Especially when you’re walking around looking like this?”

“I thought you had dinner plans with Minghao, and Jeonghan?” You originally planned on streaming tonight, but you would much rather spend time with him.

“I told them something came up.”

“What came up?” Leaning forward you press your cherry painted lips against the collar of his crisp white shirt.

“I thought you might want me to stream with you.”

“Are you sure it’s just not because you wanted to see me?” You reply pulling back to look at him with doe eyes. Tugging on his tie pulling him closer to you. “can you tell me you missed me?”

“Baby I always miss you,” he smiles.

“I don’t want to go live I want you to fuck me instead.”

He doesn’t say anything, he just picks you up and carries you off to your bedroom. He tosses you on the bed with a smirk across his face.

“Baby did you want to film me fucking you?” He unbuttons his shirt.

“I thought you didn’t want to stream with your clothes off?”

“How about you film us and we can decide if you post it,” he reaches for your camera that’s sitting on your dresser.

“Okay,” you smiled.

Laying on the bed he sets up the camera and hits record. Sitting on your knees in the middle of the bed you watch as he slowly unbuttons his dress shirts. “You look so pretty sitting there watching me.”

“You’re just so pretty,” you smile.

Tossing his dress shirt on the floor he unbuckled his pants. “Can I take them off?” You asked?

“Anything you want pretty.” Crawling off the bed you move to your knees in front of him. You unbuttoned his pants and pushed them and his boxers down his strong thighs. His already hard cock slaps against his stomach. There is something thrilling about doing all this while you’re being recorded. You take him in your hands, bring his red tip to your lips. You kitten lick the tip earning a groan from him. “Are you going to tease me baby?” You don’t respond you look up him with doe eyes as you take him as far in your mouth as he can go. His fingers tangled in your hair holding it back from your face.

“Fuck I love you mouth,” he moans as you hollow your cheeks and bob your head. You’ve always found joy in giving him head. You love the noises he’s makes and you like that you can read him like a book when you have him like this.

“Baby I’m gonna cum in your mouth if you don’t stop right now.” Pulling off you release him with a pop.

He stares down at you for a moment looking like he’s on the brink of insanity. He reaches down, helping you stand up. He drags thumb across your bottom lip, swiping some of his precum and your spit. Parting your lips he places his thumb in your mouth. Sucking gently as you stare at him.

“How do you want me?” You asked.

“I want you to spread out for me.”

Laying the bed still dressed in your crotchless panties, he's sitting back on his knees. He’s running his cock through your fold. You gasp as his bulbous head nudges your sensitive clit. “You’re so wet.”

“It’s always for you-“

He pushes into you slowly. “Spread your legs for me more,” he sighs.

The whole time he’s thrusting into you, he kisses his way across your skin. He sucks on your nipple earning a wanton moan.

The whole time you're filming his eyes never leave yours. He watches you with this loving stare. This isn’t some lust filled haze he normally has. When he finally pushes you over the edge you don’t think you have ever cum that hard in your life.

“Where did you want me to finish?” He asked if his thrust started to grow sloppier.

“Inside,” you beg.

“I’m gonna fill you up,” he moans. He paints your walls white and he fills you with thick ropes of his cum. He stops moving and stares at you for a moment before saying “you’re so fucking perfect.”

He doesn’t realize that you think he’s your whole entire world.

Junhui finally has a day off and his one goal for the day was to spend time with you. He spent the night and loved being able to wake up in bed with you. You morning cuddle session turned into slow passionate morning sex where Junhui had you laying in your stomach with a pillow under your hips. He loved finding any position he can to fuck you from behind.

You’ve spent the day just enjoying each other's company. He planned on having a lazy night in, but forgot about the little gathering at Wonwoo and his girlfriend's place.

“Can you go with me to dinner at Wonwoo and honey’s place?” He says setting his phone down.

You glance up at him from your spot on the couch. “Sure who is all going?”

“Shau and kitten, Seungcheol and darling, Soonyoung and sweetie, Jihoon and ruby.”’ You realize instantly this is a dinner for most of the couples in the friend group.

“Hao and Hannie aren’t coming?”

“No, they are both busy.”

“Sure.”

Arriving at your friend's apartment you can’t help but feel a little strange that it’s all just couples. As the night goes on everyone is hanging out and you can’t help but focus on how each of the couples interact together. You’re reminded that from the outside looking in people must assume Junhui is your boyfriend. He’s spent most the night touching you in one way or another. Towards the end of the night you notice he’s kind of gone cold. He suddenly seems distant to everyone. He’s standing in the kitchen by himself getting a glass of wine water when you walk in.

“You okay Jun?”

He stares at you with his eyebrows knit together for a long moment before closing the distance between you. He cradles your face in his hands as he crashes his lips into yours.

“I want to get out of here,” he whispers against your lips.

“Okay we can leave.”

The car ride back to your place feels weird. Something seems off about him but you can’t figure out what.

Walking into your apartment the moment the door is shut he pushes you up against your wooden door. His finger tangles in your hair while he kisses you like he needs you to breathe. Pulling away from you for a moment he whispers your name before his hand roam your body. Pushing your dress off, he tugs on your underwear pulling them down your legs.

He seems like he’s desperate for you. Normally you would play along but you can’t figure out why this all feels so off.

His finger dip between your folds earning a moan. His eyes look empty as they stare at you for the first time. Suddenly it feels like a bucket of cold water has been dumped on you.

“Jun-“ you pause. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing- just- fuck-“ he seems destrought. He removes his hands from you and steps back. You pull your underwear backup as you wait for him to say more, but he doesn’t.

“Can I ask you something?” He doesn’t say anything he just stares at you. “What are we?” This question has been eating you alive for days.

“We’re dating,” he tilts his head to the side, his eyes still seeming empty.

“Are we exclusive?” You feel like you’re crazy for the fact you have to have this conversation almost five months in.

“Of course we are.”

“Are you my boyfriend?” You know this label was what was driving you insane.

“Why are we having this conversation tonight?” He sighs.

“Because something is wrong and I feel like we need to talk about what is bothering both of us.”

“This is what’s bothering you?” He seems void of emotions.

“Yeah. I don’t understand what we are. I want you to be my boyfriend,” you feel like you’re on the verge of crying.

“It’s complicated,” he sighs.

“It shouldn’t be. You act like my boyfriend. Hell we literally got invited to couples night with your friends.”

“I have so much going on in my life and I can’t fully commit to being your boyfriend. Work is so much right for me. I don’t have time to fully commit to you.” That’s bullshit. He’s constantly spending time with you. You see him at least three times a week.

“I’m not asking for much. I like what we have. I just want to call you my boyfriend and not feel crazy for being in love with you.” Telling him you love him like this feels wrong. It makes your chest burn. You always hoped to hear him say it first to you.

“You love me?” He looks completely caught off guard by your statement.

“Why do you sound shocked?”

“I don’t know,”

“I don’t think you love me, and that’s okay. But I think if you can’t commit to me more, for my own self preservation I need to stop this. This-“ you point between the two of you. “Is just going to break my heart.”

“I’m trying so hard not to break your heart.”

“But you aren’t really trying,” tears slowly start to slide down your cheek. “If you were actually trying to work with me. I wouldn’t feel like I’m going through a fucking maze trying to figure out what’s got you so upset.” You push away your tears. “I don’t know why you’re so guarded, because you won’t ever tell me why you’re like this. I feel like I know you, but at the same time there are so many things about yourself you keep hidden from me. But I have fully let you in. I showed you parts of myself I have been terrified to show other people. I never hid my job from you, you’re the first person I fully never trusted anyone to see that side of me.” He just stares at you with his eyes brimming with tears. “From the beginning I’ve never liked anyone like I like you. I’ve always been yours to keep, but at the same time yours to lose.” The silence in the room is screaming. “I think you should probably head out.” You reach on the floor picking up your dress that he peeled off you. You walk away from the door.

He nods and steps away from you. The moment the front door shuts you can’t help but sob. He made it very clear he doesn’t love you, and now you feel crazy for ever falling for him.

You haven’t spoken to him in two weeks, and in that time you’ve only gone live once. It wasn’t a normal long stream you would do for at least an hour. This one was short, and after one orgasm you needed the live. The whole time you were on camera you could only think of Junhui and it was breaking your heart. It didn’t help that the chat was asking where your mystery man you called “baby” was.

Getting over a one-sided breakup hurts. It doesn’t help that you don’t exactly have a ton of friends that live in the city. You could call Kitten but you felt weird since she’s friends with Junhui too.

Laying in bed looking through your phone you see the only sex tape that you and him had made together. You know he said you could post for subscribers only page behind a paywall, but you never intended for anyone to see this video other than the two of you. You know you should delete it or just store it in your hidden folder and move on but for some reason you watch it. The loving looking in his eyes as he slowly rolls his hips into yours over and over again. Before you reach the end of the video when you fall apart moaning his name, you close your phone. There is once again that ache in your chest.

There is a knock on the door and you have no clue who could be at your door. Opening the door you weren’t expecting to see Minghao of all people on the other side. You have no clue why Junhui's roommate is at your door.

“Hi?” You’re confused on why he’s here.

“You know Junnie won’t tell me anything, but he’s been sulking around the apartment for over two weeks and when I asked about you he looked like he was fighting back tears.” You step aside and Minghao walks in.

You don’t respond to his statement, you instead ask, “Would you like tea?”

“Please.”

He sits at your kitchen table as you make two cups of tea. You place a cup in front of him and sit down across from him.

“Are you going to tell me what happened with Junhui?” Minghao is probably the only of the few people in Junhui's friends that fully knows about your actual job.

“It’s complicated,” you sigh.

“I’m going to assume he’s the one that messed up,” he sighs before taking a sip of his tea.

“Hao, how would you explain to someone my relationship with him?” You’re curious to see what someone from the outside thinks of your relationship.

“You’re his girlfriend,” he raises an eyebrow.

“Turns out I wasn’t. Our relationship was odd. In my eyes he was my boyfriend, we were together all the time and he even took me on dates. Hell he even knew about my job and didn’t care.” You decided to leave out that he would film with you. “He would never fully commit though. He would dodge referring to me as his girlfriend. And when I asked him what we were, he just told me all the reasons he couldn’t be my boyfriend.”

Minghao takes a deep breath as he gives you a sympathetic look. “He got his heart broken really badly before you. She couldn’t take how busy he was with work. They dated for two years and one day she ended things saying that his job would always come first.”

“I don’t think he’s heartbroken this time. He made it clear he didn’t love me when I told him I loved him.”

He sets his cup down and has a confused look on his face. “What do you mean he doesn’t love you?”

“His response to my confession was, I’m trying really hard not to break your heart.”

“Fuck he’s dumb.”

“You know I let him see every part of me and never hid anything from him, and wouldn’t fully let me in.”

“Before you let go of him. Could you try talking to him one last time?”

“Minghao why? He’s not here trying to talk to me. You are?”

“Listen, he loves you and he wants more. He’s just scared.” He sighs. “He’s not as guarded as you think is.”

“You know he doesn’t talk about his family at all?”

“That’s because he’s has some issues with his family. It’s just him and his mom. His dad left when he was young. He works hard to help support his mom.”

“Why won’t he tell me this?” It hurts that he hasn’t tried to talk to you.

“I guess it’s his way of protecting himself.” He sighs standing up.

“He doesn’t have to protect himself when it comes to me.”

“You don’t have to do this, but maybe you should come by and see if he’ll talk to you.”

“He needs to come to me. I can’t put myself on the line anymore. I’m already hurt enough. If he wants to fix this he has to be the one to fix it.”

Minghao leaves, giving you a hug goodbye. You decide that night you need to let go of Wen Junhui.

Another week goes by before there is another knock on the door. You were getting ready to attempt to do a short stream. You threw on a robe fully covering your body.

Opening the door you’re surprised to see Junhui standing on the side. He’s dressed in his work clothes. He looks tired and there isn’t his normal light behind his eyes.

“Why are you here?” He opens his mouth to speak and nothing comes out before he sighs. “If you’re here to waste my time you can leave.”

“I’m not good at any of this stuff.”

“Clearly,” you retort.

“Can I come in so we can talk?”

Silently you step aside. He walks inside standing in the living room. You shut and lock the door. You can’t help but think about the last time you were together when he had you pressed up against it.

“It’s been a month,” you break the screaming silence.

“I know.”

“Junhui you broke my heart that day. What were you so in your head about that night. You seemed so cold at the party,” your eyes are already brimming with tears.

“I wish I could go back in time and change what happened that night.” He sighs leaning against the back of the couch.

“Why?”

“Because I fucked up and hurt you. I’m sorry I was so closed off and hurt you. That night I just watching us with all the couples confused me. I had always told myself I didn’t need a relationship like that that night just confused me. I thought I couldn’t give you what everyone else had.”

“I’ve felt like I did something wrong for an entire month. I thought that maybe the reason you’re so closed off is because of my job.” That little thought had been eating away at you for weeks.

He shakes his head. “Your job had nothing to do with this. It’s not your fault even the slightest. It’s not a good excuse but I got my heart broken by a girl I was with for years. She ended things because of how much I work. I know from the beginning you said you didn’t care that I was so busy, but I thought if I committed to more with you. That one day you would end it because I can’t always be there.”

You don’t say anything for a long moment. You step towards him. You stare at him for a long moment. You hate how sad he looks. “I’m not asking for you to be readily available to me twenty-four seven. I’m just asking for you to let yourself love me, and label what we have.” Reaching up, you rest your hand gently on his cheek. Your thumb slowly drags across his delicate skin. “I fell so incredibly hard for you, and you made me feel like I was insane for loving you.”

“You weren’t lying when you said you were mine to keep and mine to lose. I fell so hard for you too, and I was so scared that I was going to lose you.”

He looks like he’s about to cry. “I didn’t want to leave you. You pushed me away.”

“I don’t ever want to push you away again.”

“Let yourself love me then,” you sigh.

“I already do love you. I loved you when you kicked me out. I loved you every second we were apart. I still love you.”

The world suddenly feels like it’s spinning a little quicker. There’s nothing you can say in that moment. Leaning up you crash your lips into his for a heated kiss. Your arms are wrapped around his neck pulling him closer to you.

With his lips ghosting yours he whispers, “I love you.”

Pulling back you can’t help but smile, “that’s good because I love you too.”

“I would like for you to be my girlfriend. I’m just asking that you’re patient with me.”

“I can be patient,” you can’t help the happy tears that are starting to fall.

“Work is going to be crazy for me sometime. But just know I might be busy, but I’m always thinking about you, and I’m going to try my hardest to make time for you.”

“All I’m asking for is for you to always try your hardest with me and I’ll do the same with you,” he pressed his lips gently to the side of your mouth.

“I’m assuming by your robe you were getting ready to film?” He gently tugs on the belt.

“Yeah but I can film tomorrow. Maybe tonight we could take a bath and just spend time together.”

“I would love that.”

You knew that things always wouldn’t be the easiest. But all that mattered was that he loved you, and you loved him with your whole heart. All the pieces feel like they’re all suddenly falling into place.

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