#take it from me: that dream of a perfect relationship- a perfect job- whatever your fantasy is

[featheredvein]

----------------------- ⋆˙⟡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

Does anyone else love the idea of poly yandere's taking an interest in you?

Just the idea of a couple, already so obsessed with each other, opening their relationship to make me their baby..

Gods, please just kidnap me, do all the thinking and turn me into your precious, pathetic little devotee who's only job is pleasing the both of them; whatever they need to keep me.

Imagine the manipulation from two yandere's, perfect dream team for kidnapping.. >^<

[burningembers91]

Freak of Nature - The Salesman x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: The Salesman can't get enough of you, he's drawn to you like a bee to honey. It's just a shame you don't know he's watching you.

A/N: I'm not 100% sure where I want this to go yet, and i've never written for a character like The Salesman before but Gong Yoo's unhinged performance has me hooked!

Warnings: 18+ only!, stalking, The Salesman needs his own warning

He’d always known he was fucked up; had always known he wasn’t “normal”. From a young age, his parents had thrown every penny available at psychologist after psychologist, desperate to find a cure for their little freak of nature. Nothing had worked though; nothing had been able to quell that constant desire deep within his soul.

He’d spent years being forced to subdue whatever demons he housed, fooling his parents into thinking the therapy was working. Nothing could save him though; nothing could rid him of the evil that had taken root. He enjoyed playing with people, relished in seeing how far he could take a person before they completely snapped. Human life was so fragile and fickle; why shouldn’t he be allowed to play with it? People so often wasted their lives; took what little time they had for granted. If anything, he was helping people. He was giving them a chance at a second opportunity for life. The games he played with people, the innocent, childhood games were all completely legal. He never made anyone do anything they didn’t want to, that was beauty of his job. Everyone always had a choice, he just made it hard for them to say no. People were greedy, hungry for fame and fortune. He gave those who sought riches beyond their wildest dreams a chance to make that dream a reality; it wasn’t his fault if they didn’t win the game.

This life he led was a lonely one though. Relationships had never been his forte. He’d always been too much for women, too intense. He had needs, desires that few could meet and those who could only stayed a short time. He wasn’t sure if he was capable of love. He knew he’d never loved his parents, had never loved any of the women he’d fucked. They were merely an object which he used to meet his own needs, all of them too vain and fickle for him. He enjoyed a challenge, wanted someone who could keep him on his toes. But how would he find someone like that when even he didn’t know how far he was wiling to go? How high did his freak flag fly? No one had ever stayed long enough for him to find out. He usually paid for the company of a woman, handing them wads of cash so he could feel a brief moment of ecstasy. He’d never felt anything for these women though; had never felt the burning desire that he felt when he was around you.

He'd watched you every day for three months now, sipping your latte in the same coffee bar, your laptop open as you marked your students work. You always sat in the same spot, right by the window with the view of the park opposite. He’d taken to sitting on a bench in that park, right opposite where you sat. He’d watched as your brow furrowed while you marked essays, he’d smile at the way your perfect pink tongue delicately flicked the frothy coffee foam from your top lip. You were perfect to him, so innocent and excruciatingly delicate. He’d followed you home a few times, keeping enough of a distance that you didn’t notice him in the crowds, but close enough that the floral scent of your perfume wrapped tightly around his senses like a hangman’s noose.

He knew you lived in a small studio apartment, number 235. Your bedroom looked out over a small restaurant, and he’d sit there some nights, watching the shadows of your form through your curtains. He’d never been this enamoured with a person before, never craved a person as much as he did you. He’d listened to you order your coffee a dozen times, your voice more beautiful than any songbird. He wanted to speak to you, but he didn’t want to shatter the perfect vision he’d created for himself. In his head, he broke you over and over again, but you enjoyed it. In his head, you were his, bending to his every will and demand. In his head, you were his perfect girl. But fantasy was always better than reality, and reality never lasted long. He wasn’t quite ready to show himself to you, choosing to lurk in the shadows as you remained blissfully unaware of him.

It was getting harder and harder to stay away from you though. Every day your very presence only fuelled his desires. One day soon he’d have to show himself to you. He just hoped you lived up to his expectations.

[sweetlikelace]

MY HANDS ARE TIED, MY SLEEVES ARE TORN

PART ONE | wandanat x reader

pairing(s): wanda maximoff x reader, wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff, natasha romanoff x reader

content warning: talk of smut, legal age gap, praise, reader is a brat but what’s new

word count: 2.1k

A/N: happy easter !! here’s a bit of a backstory on the readers relationship with natasha and wanda! i’m not sure how long to make each part?? so if you guys want longer content let me know!! i’m hoping to have the next part out within the week

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

you were officially a graduate. a career-ready member of the workforce. except... ready for what? that's the question that screams in your head every morning, louder than any alarm. what are you even ready for? and more importantly, what do you even want? your friends seem to have it all figured out, meanwhile, you're sitting here, staring at your inbox, which is a graveyard of rejection emails and vague LinkedIn invitations. "we appreciate your interest, but..." has become your new mantra.

you feel like you've been playing a constant, losing game of job application bingo, desperately searching for that one magic phrase that'll unlock the door to your future. it's isolating, this feeling of being lost at sea, surrounded by giant, confident cruise liners sailing towards clearly defined horizons. we spend four years being told what university would prepare us, that it would open doors and pave the way for success. and for some maybe it has, but more you, it feels like its just presented you with a bewildering array of choices, all equally terrifying.

part of the problem is the pressure. the unspoken expectation that as a young woman, you should be carving out this perfect, instagrammable life. you should be ambitious, driven, and know exactly what you want to achieve by twenty-three. but the truth is, you barely know what you want for dinner tonight, let alone the next five years of your life.

your mother keeps suggesting you to come home, stay with them for a while. its a tempting offer, a safe harbour in this storm of uncertainty. but the thought of retreating, confirming her silent worries about your "unrealistic dreams," makes you want to run away even further.

maybe that's why you were so attracted to the idea of natasha's offer. it was something you hadn't thought to try before, but the idea of giving yourself to them completely sounded more and more appealing each day.

you were currently working as a barista at buzzy brews, and it wasn't uncommon to see the older woman stop in weekday mornings. that's how you had gotten to know natasha in the first place. she'd order a nitro cold brew and always tip generously. it was no secret to you or your coworkers that she was wealthy.

for weeks, your interactions were purely transactional. but something about her calm demeanour and the thoughtful way she seemed to absorb the world around her piqued your curiosity. for natasha, it was the subtle blush that would appear on your cheeks the moment she came in, the way you would subconsciously hum along to whatever music was playing on the radio.

she began bringing wanda to the coffee shop months later, who also seemed to take a liking to you. when the older women told you about their offer, you were intrigued to say the least. both women could be intimidating, and part of you feared the experience, but an even bigger part of you was jealous at the idea of them presenting this proposal to someone else. you agreed almost instantly.

you spent most of your time with natasha. it was her you had grown closest too. from the moment you met wanda, there was an unmistakable aura of dominance about her. it wasn't arrogance, exactly, more like a quiet confidence that commanded attention. she didn't have to speak loudly or make grand gestures, in fact she was often the quieter of the two. the way she held herself, the directness of her gaze, it all spoke volumes. it was a captivating quality you found yourself drawn to.

initially that attraction seemed to be reciprocated. the day natasha brought her in, she was engaging, genuinely interested in what you had to say. it felt easy and natural. that's why the subsequent shift was so bewildering. the more time spent with natasha, the frequency of your conversation with her wife diminished. the warmth that had initially radiated from her seemed to cool, replaced by a polite, but detached manner.

natasha tried to explain that it wasn't that her wife disliked you. it was quite the opposite. wanda had spent so much time around chaotic and headstrong personalities, she became accustomed to a certain dynamic, or in other words, brat taming was her specialty. "you're far too sweet, she just doesn't know how to handle you." natasha would say before kissing your cheek. although you didn't really believe her. you may have been gentle, and 'too sweet for your own good' at times, but you were determined to win over the affection you craved so much from the sokovian.

you arrived at the romanoff-maximoff household earlier than expected, and natasha's meeting was running later than even she could anticipate. she stayed locked in her at-home-office while wanda tidied up the house. you sat on the on sofa watching tv, and patiently waiting for natasha to finish up her call. 

"turn the volume down, detka. natasha's in an important meeting." wanda spoke clearly as she wiped down the coffee table. 

wanda always seemed to find something to complain about. the tv volume being too loud, or your jacket not hung up properly, but tossed onto the floor. you thought if you had to wait all evening for natasha, then why couldn't you at least enjoy your time waiting? especially since natasha's meetings were becoming more frequent and you hated having to wait for her attention. with a frustrated sigh, you turn the volume down. your sigh did not go unnoticed by the older woman, but she chose not to press. 

wanda went back into the kitchen, turning on the faucet to clean the dishes you had left previously in the sink. their home was quite big, which is why each clatter of the dishes scraping together echoed directly back to the living room. you roll your eyes and grab the remote, turning the volume up even higher than before. you don't even hear the sink turn off and wanda rushing back into the living room.

she grabbed the remote from beside you and instead of turning the volume back down, she turned the tv off completely. "hey!" you sit up.

"what did i say? natasha is in a meeting. you can earn back your tv privilege when you start showing some respect." the brunette held her arms across her chest, the remote still in her hand.

"my 'tv privileges?' i'm not a child." you scoff, crossing your own arms. 

wanda shakes her head, "you're acting like one." with that, wanda takes the remote and returns to the kitchen, leaving you alone in the living room. once she was out of sight you lean over, punching the pillow she had just fluffed. maybe it was slightly childish behaviour, but you were irritated. 

when natasha did eventually finish her meeting, she came down the stairs and greeted wanda first. you could hear their muffled voices from the other room and it piqued your curiosity and excitement. you sit up straight and eager for the older woman. 

she came around the corner and you immediately stood up with a smile. natasha was always happy to see you after her long work days, you were a breath of fresh air after dealing with incompetent employees nonstop. she greets you by pushing your hair behind your ears, she hated when you'd hide behind your hair. "hi sweet girl." she sighs contentedly. 

"I missed you..." you say with a soft pout, a part of you wanting her to feel guilty for making you wait. "I missed you too, you little troublemaker." catching you by surprise, she met your gaze, her eyes soft but direct. "wanda told me you've been pushing her buttons today." she said, her eyebrows arched. 

"no..." your voice hinted with guilt.

natasha's lips twitched with the hint of a smile, amused by your feigned innocence. she didn't believe you for a second. "mhm." she hummed, her hands starting to gently trace patterns on your hips. "wanda said you've been acting like a brat. is that true?"

you shake your head. her grip on your hips tightened. "you know you can't lie to me, sweetheart. wanda said you've been testing her patience. now tell me the truth." 

you chew on your cheek shyly. "maybe...maybe a little bit."

natasha's smirk widened a bit at your admission, her hands still tracing circles on your hips. she didn't seem angry, more amused than anything. "a little bit, huh?" she repeated, her. tone slightly teasing. she pulled you closer, so you were practically pressed against her. "and why were you testing wanda's patience, sweetheart?"

you shrug, sinking further down in her lap. 

wanda's expression darkened a little from the doorway. "natasha asked you a question, and we expect an answer. you're a big girl, use your words." wanda spoke firmly, and hearing her scold you made your heart sink.  natasha smirked slightly at your expression, knowing exactly what you were thinking.

"just relax for me, princess." she murmured. she leaned down, her voice soft. "wanda won't bite, trust me."

you weren't exactly afraid of wanda, or were you? she was just a lot harder to read. you didn't want to apologize, but you didn't want to keep having this conversation either. you turn to look at wanda, who was leaned against the doorframe. 

"I'm sorry for being a brat, miss wanda." you speak so softly she can barely hear you, but natasha flashes a satisfied smile. "we forgive you, solnishko. thank you for apologizing." the older woman kisses your forehead and you smile proudly. although wanda was not very pleased. 

"tasha..." she gave a hinting tone, looking past you and directly at her wife, but natasha only shakes her head. 

she runs her hands through your hair. "she had a long day, isn't that right, baby?" natasha coos at you and you nod, leaning your head into her chest. she twirls a strand of your hair between her fingers before standing up and reaching out her hand. "you did so well waiting for me today, I know it wasn't easy to be that patient." 

wanda sighs, pushing off the doorframe and retrieving back to the kitchen. you shoot her a glare, but natasha's hand on your chin squeezes lightly, bringing your attention back to her. "easy, darling." your eyes relax once they land back on the blonde. her expression softens as she runs her thumb over your lower lip.  

"what do you need, baby?" she whispers.

"you..." you say, looking up at her with big, doe eyes. 

"on your knees." she said, calm and assured, like she already knew you'd obey. and of course you did. 

you moved across the room quietly, kneeling in front of her like muscle memory. your eyes didn't quite meet hers - at least not at first - but she waited, saying nothing until your gaze slowly drifted up to hers. "already so good for me."

her hand moved to your cheek, thumb brushing over your skin with a kind of reverence that made your chest ache. her touch wasn't hurried, nothing about natasha ever was. she liked to take her time. and with you? she always did. 

her words sent a shiver down your spine. your breath caught, but you didn't move. natasha smiled, clearly pleased. "you love when I take control. when I remind you who you belong to," she whispered, her fingers slipping through your hair, gentle, deliberate. 

"yes," you breathed, voice quiet. 

she saw the way your lips parted slightly, the way your knees shifted just a little closer. her hand dropped to your shoulder, coaxing. "up here," she said, patting her thigh. "come sit. let me feel you."

you claimed into her lap carefully, your body fitting against hers like puzzle pieces long since matched. she pulled you in, arms wrapping around your waist, mouth ghosting over your neck. natasha shifted on the sofa, parting her legs slightly so you could kneel closer between them. her fingers trailed down your neck to your shoulder, the touch featherlight, like she was learning you all over again. 

you weren't sure how long you could stay patient. her touch was maddening, never enough. she cupped your cheek with one hand, the other gently tilting your chin up. "eyes on me." 

you held her gaze, even though it made your breath catch. natasha's eyes were dark with need, but still so soft. she was in complete control. it was effortless to her. "you want me to touch you?" she asked, even though she already knew the answer. 

"yes," you whispered.

"I know you do, sweetheart." she leaned down, her mouth barely grazing your ear. "but I like making you wait."

tags: @ciaoooooo111

[ssareiids]

HIIII OMGGMG i love ur theme its sauurr cutesie i love it!1!1 i wasnt sure if you take requests or not so feel free to ignore this erm.💔💔

i was wonderign if u could write for spencer reid (PLEASEPLEASPLESE) like definitelt domestic fluff and like it's the two of them baking and uh it goes wrong but reader and spence just giggle like idiots at the mess they made

SWEET ON U!

pairing: s2! spencer x reader

summary: spencer and you both excel in many things in life– just... not baking.

tw/cw: if you're scared of fluff then back off /j LITERALLY NOTHING TO ADD AS A TRIGGER, if smth does count as a trigger here though please tell me.. probably innacuracies in the baking, sorry bakers i had google and a dream

shayli's ted talk: guys i swear i've been writing since my casey oneshot it's just that i'm... i'm employed now🙁.. also I LOVE YEW ANON, guys request things plz... im going through a writer's slump . we dont mention the dilauded here he's happy okay

Today was one of the days that God– or whatever being that resided in the clouds, gave Spencer a day off.

Well, it was more like the day off was forced on him. If you knew Spencer Reid, you knew he didn't take vacations, didn't use up sick days, and would probably win an award for perfect attendance if it existed for the FBI. He had denied himself of a freedom office workers would love to have, up until this very moment.

Hotch has made his words clear, and easy to understand.

"Take a day off, Reid."

Said in that same poker face Hotch always wore, the one that was burned into his eyes with how often he saw it. It was rare for the Unit chief to ever smile, and when he did, no one would be there to see it.

Getting back on track though...

You had a much more positive reaction to his day off, it may only be one day of freedom from case files and coffee mugs that were filled with a caffeine that bordered nowhere near luxury. But you would take it, you just didn't know what to do with it.

When he had first informed you of his day off, you had been overjoyed at the fact you'd finally have your boyfriend to yourself instead of playing a never ending tug of war between the job and you.

The excitement quickly faded when you realized.

You had no idea what to do with him.

I mean, you could just cuddle up all day and sleep the entire day away. But, that wasted alot of time, time that you and Spencer rarely had together.

You then wondered if you should ask him what he wanted to do, but unfortunately, ever since the two of you had begun this relationship– Spencer follows behind you everytime.

Literally and figuratively.

His half awake mind had once followed you to the kitchen when you woke up to go get a glass of water, and let me tell you. Seeing a 6' foot man behind you at 2:00 AM does things to you, and not the good type. You screamed and he screamed back, both in fear.

You knew that he'd go along with whatever shenanigans you had in mind for your couple bonding time, so you brainstorm, maybe not as fast as your boyfriend but you think.

You sit on the couch, criss cross applesauce, while looking down onto the floor. Eyebrows furrowed in deep thought as you scour the files of your mind for an idea on how to spend this rare Saturday.

"You look like me" Spencer tries to joke, it falls flat and slams face first into the floor when you don't respond. Too lost in the rabbit hole you've created to try and say something witty back.

Spencer furrows his eyebrows too, and approaches you warily– slowly, like you were some sort of threat he had to neutralize before sitting down next to you on the couch. "... Are you okay..?" He probes, trying to see if his profiling mind can do him any good in guessing what's up with you.

Then, as if the electrons– or atoms, whatever. Lined up in your brain to form the first idea that would suffice, you sat back up straight. A peaceful glint in your now not squinted eyes as you turn your head to face Spencer.

He looks confused, like... really really confused.

".. Love...?" He tries the pet name as if it would snap you back into reality, and you simply grab his hand before smiling at him.

"We are going to bake."

"... 'Kay."

As you had planned he had agreed to the idea without much second thought. Which was funny since he's so meticulous with the things in his life, maybe he's just gotten used to you bringing chaos into it.

You two had spent maybe about 30 minutes or so wondering what you should bake, you thankfully didn't need a search engine for ideas this time because Spencer was on board with being the recipe holder.

"How about chocolate chip cookies?"

"We don't have chocolate chips."

He responds curtly and you snort before rolling your eyes at him.

"I wonder who's fault is that.." You reply back, and he opens his mouth in protest, but he never actually says anything back knowing that you're right. Giving him a smug grin that said "Exactly."

"How about a Pie?"

"Well... I suppose we do have the ingredients for a normal pie, but we'll also need a variety of fruits, maybe more chocolate, and–"

"SPENCER."

"Okay, let's make a pie."

The two of you retire to your kitchen, getting all the baking necessities and tools out. You didn't even know he had all this stuff in his apartment, and when you asked he said they came with the place when he moved in.

You two learn alot of things about each other through small talk while trying not to get shells in the mixture when cracking the eggs.

You learn that Spencer has a sweet tooth, but you figured that out when you caught him putting 4 packets of sugar into his morning coffee.

Spencer learns that you almost broke your jaw on a jawbreaker once when you were 16, he furrowed his eyebrows and asked why you did it knowing it was called a jawbreaker.

You learn that Spencer has read your favourite book approximately 143 times and counting. You nearly teared up and almost got your salty tears in the melted chocolate.

And Spencer learns that you had a pet chameleon who ran away. He suggested it could still be in the house but just camoflauged, and you threw the cupful of flour at him.

You both stand there in silence, unmoving, like a showdown between 2 cowboys with only flour and sugar at their hands.

Spencer stands there, ruffled in the white powder that now adorns his pyjamas like snow, his face covered in so much of it he nearly looked like a ghost. He only reacts when you start laughing.

You don't laugh gently, or chuckle at the sight. No you laugh like you've just seen the most funniest thing in your life, and in a way... it kind of was. You hold onto the counter and hunch over, laughing like you were hysterical.

He looks over to his back, trying to find a weapon to launch back at you until he lands on the melted chocolate sauce, he glances back at you. Completely unaware of his plans before reaching his finger towards it, ew.. but it'll be worth it.

Once his finger is coated in the gooey sweet treat, he smudges it on your cheek, not carefully nor affectionately, he rubs it on your cheek– shamelessly.

You look up at him and pause your laughter, a look of faux offense swirling in your eyes as you try and find something to retaliate against him.

The innocent unbaked pie crust on the pan lay there, unaware of it's fate to come as you peel it off ready to lunge it at him. Spencer reacts just as fast though and gets his own piece of the pie crust

"Uh uh, don't you dare." Spencer says, raising his piece of pie crust like it was a shield against yours. You squint your eyes as if in focus before flicking your share of the pie crust at him.

He dodges, barely, before trying to swat you with his own. You jump back and almost bump into the kitchen island before grinning and reaching for an egg.

"I have a weapon and I am not afraid to use it!" You reply, holding the egg at him as if it was a knife, Spencer plays along and drops his pie crust onto the floor and raises his hands into the air "Ok! Ok! I surrender!" He says, his voice squeaky in defeat.

You two eventually agree to a ceasefire before getting to work on recreating the pie crust that you two had used in your food fight.

This time you work in silence, a comfortable one that came easy after the little playful banter you just had, you worked better this time since you both had gotten used on how to start and how to use all the baking tools.

After the pie crust had been filled with the melted chocolate and had been sent away to the oven, you two both fall back onto the couch.

Or it's more like you land on the couch and Spencer lands on you.

"Ah– hey!"

You shout when you feel his body weight practically jump on you, he grins toothily in his little victory when you let him stay ontop of you, knowing that you really didn't mind.

The two of you sit there in silence, waiting for the timer above the stove to ding so you both can try out your creation, there isn't much conversation.

But you didn't need to talk, your touches on his carefully done hair, and his head buried into your neck spoke enough of the love that blossomed nicely between you two. It got you thinking.

It had you imagining what you would be doing if you never met Spencer, if you never had a sudden surge of confidence to ask the pretty boy at the library out, or if he had rejected you. It had you wondering what fate held for you, the idea of fate itself.

DING! DING! DING!

You nearly push Spencer off of you when you hear the alarm's call, apologizing hurriedly before rushing along to the oven, with Spencer following right behind you, even if he was in the middle of having a very good nap.

He grabs you the oven mittens and urges you to be the one to get the pie, you don't question it, he was clumsy with his hands– half awake or not.

The oven door opens like the gates to heaven, in it's wake an aroma of chocolate and sweetness follows, sending you and Spencer into a momentary trance before you finally get it out of the heated space.

You both try to reach for it until you remember the thing is still... extremely hot.

Neither of you have the patience to wait for the sweet treat, so you leave it out on the fire exit, hoping that the windy breeze of the night cools it down enough, and that there aren't any pie swipers nearby.

The two of you giggle like little kids waiting for the smoke of the pie to dissipate and the heat to finally turn cool. When Spencer announces it's been 15 minutes, you finally grab it back into the safety of your home.

The sound of plates being taken from the dish rack and a knife being taken fills the kitchen alongside your giddiness, you bring it onto the counter with an eagerly waiting Spencer with a knife.

"You sure you can cut it?"

"I'm not 6."

He replies stubbornly before squinting his eyes and focusing on the slice he's about to cut, you look away to pass time as he cuts his own slice, but then look back when you see that he's taking... forever.

"Spence?" You ask when you see he hasn't even made an indent on the pie, raising an eyebrow when you see the focused glint in his eyes usually reserved for crime scenes and cases– not for cutting a pie.

"Shh..." He hushes you with a raised finger before finally making the cut, clean and simple, before handing it to you.

"I cut the pie for you in pi." He says proudly, as the joke flies over your head, which is usually supposed to happen to Spencer, not to you.

"... What?"

"You just don't get it." He shoos you away from the thought with a gesture of his hands.

extra:

"Hey, Spence.. about your joke earlier." You bring it up as the two of you lay in bed, social battery well drained after the events of today.

He only hums in acknowledgement of your conversation starter before allowing you to continue.

"Did you try cutting it for me.. in the size of pi or something? Like... pi as in the number..?"

"ты никогда не узнаешь."

"STOP DOING THAT."

shayli's ted talk: i used google translate for the russian so don't judge me... heh.. ok bye i'm gonna disappear and not write for another month.. maybe..

written by @ssareiids

[imliterallyf7ckin9crazy]

“𝔐𝔶 𝔤𝔯𝔞𝔰𝔰 𝔦𝔰 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔶 𝔤𝔯𝔢𝔢𝔫 𝔞𝔫𝔡… 𝔥𝔬𝔫𝔢𝔰𝔱𝔩𝔶 ℑ 𝔠𝔞𝔫’𝔱 𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔫 𝔣𝔲𝔠𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔠𝔞𝔭 𝔫𝔬 𝔪𝔬𝔯𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔦𝔰 𝔞 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔶 𝔡𝔞𝔯𝔨 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔪𝔢… ℑ’𝔪 𝔤𝔬𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔥𝔯𝔬𝔲𝔤𝔥 𝔞 𝔩𝔬𝔱” (hope yall get this ref)

Nam gyu x reader x thanos

Smoking weed with thangyu :3

Warnings: weed, smoking it, I don’t think they are crazy toxic in this one actually, kind of a poly relationship but not like officially in words? Idk, pre game/ no game AU bitch I have no clue. If you don’t like weed/aren’t comfortable pls don’t read and pls don’t judge 🙏

A/N: this is for me basically. I just thought this would be funny and I haven’t written in like 2 or 3 days and I wanna get back into it bc I miss it IDK😭 and these two are my favorites. America is geeking out and I’m stuck with it for 4 years so to cope imma write abt smoking zaza w squid game characters.

Also these are head cannons I just wanted to have that lyric as the title lol

_______

- dream and nightmare rotation somehow.

- I feel like smoking with them starts out chill ASF. Maybe yall start back at home and roll up, the three of yall cramped together on the couch.

- thanos is chilling at the arm rest end of the couch, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he meticulously distributes the goods evenly on the paper and rolling it to perfection. He even knows how to make those cute pattern filters. He repeats this process a few more times

- you are in the middle, crushed between him and nam gyu. Your head is nestled right on his shoulder blade as he works, and your right arm is looped through his left. No matter how many times he does it, you still always comment on how he’s “faster than last time” or that he’s done a great job. If he had a tail he’d be wagging it

- and then nam gyu is PRESSED up against you. One arm is clutching your torso as he practically lays on you, and the other is reached all the way behind you to rest on thanos’ back. His hands are never ever still so he’d be lightly tapping a rhythm on your skin as he waits impatiently

- once thanos is all done it’s time to smoke 🙏 now here’s some actual stoner HCs. I’ll make it short

Thanos: I wouldn’t say he’s a light weight bc he can get super high and be SET. But he just gets super high every time. Somehow he glitched out of high tolerance hell. Also he is a joint hog >:( ik it’s infuriating to try and get him to pass the fucking joint. Prolly uses it as a mic. Smh.

Nam gyu: has to smoke a lot to get high. Like eventually he gets there but he has to smoke one together with yall (bc he wants to be included) and one for himself. Bro gets sleepy, HELLA. Don’t matter indica or stativa. Honk shoo mimimi. I would say it makes him not keep his hands to himself but when has he ever??? Be prepared.

Together: world’s most stoppable duo. Literally whatever brain cells they had die. They are hanging off each other, laughing at genuinely anything, they don’t make any fucking sense, and to make it all worse they reek but tell each other they don’t. Once they’ve smoked they like to hit the streets together, maybe go clubbing :3 ends in 14 arrests idek

- they don’t skip you in a rotation EVER. They take their system serious asf. It’s always been thanos, you, nam gyu, repeat. And they will be dammed if you don’t get your hits in. They insist on shot gunning it to you (and each other but you ain’t hear that from me)

- they will never say no to more, three joints is just TO START. They got bongs, pipes, carts, brah everything

- they are extra sweet to you when smoking weed. Very cuddly, keeping you between them and then holding each other. You are literally trapped that way. And they keep looking at you with hazy eyes…

- hungry bastards. Usually they get food to eat before and then they can partake after. Sometimes they take you out to like a street vender for a cheap munchie session.

- not often tho. They like you keep you inside and away from other people. They like having you curled up between them, looking at them with glassy eyes, smoking the weed THEY bring you. Thanos and nam gyu are really possessive guys so they like moments where it’s literally just you three chilling.

- they be talking about the most random shit if all time. If yall remember the shower thoughts trend, that’s just the shit they say.

- they the typa guys when high to ask if you’d still love them if they were worms

- (you said yes and that you’d make a little compost bin for them to live in. They liked it)

- compliment city!! “Baby you’re so pretty” from nam gyu and a “don’t look away señorita, i wanna see you” from thanos.

- they hold hands with you.

- if you happen to green out they are with you in the bathroom. Nam gyu will hold your hair if you throw up and thanos is getting water and setting up for bed.

- tbh not all smoke seshs end in getting freaky, but it’s high in likelihood. Bc like cmon. They are freaky. And sometimes the weed be weeding. And they love you, and each other.

- but sometimes they end in just yall cozied up together in bed, rambling abt random shit, holding each other tightly as smoke clings in the air.

_______

Idk I just thought this was funny. I think the world would be much better if politicians talked shit out over a fresh J imma be real. America is hell.

[snoopyhughes]

to be loved is to be known: paige bueckers

hello and welcome to the second installment of my series, to be loved is to be known! Paige also screams acts of service to me, and she won the poll so this one will be with Paigey. if you have any requests for this series, feel free to send them in.

1.3k words, there is mentions of both feminine and androgynous energy from reader but THIS IS A WLW FIC!

to be loved is to be known...

Let's start here: Paige is your BIGGEST fan. Just as the gif shows, Paige loves so hard and so deeply. Paige cares infinitely more about her loved ones than she does herself (which is something you're working on with her), but it shows in the way she loves you. She praises your smallest of actions. But it isn't trivial. Paige is truly proud of everything you do and all that you are.

Did something after procrastinating? She's showering you with kisses for a job well done. Got a half decent grade on an assignment or test? She's taking you out to dinner to celebrate. And with the big wins, she will blow you out of the water with the things she does for you to celebrate.

A promotion at work calls for a beautiful new necklace, a #5 proudly across your neck, spelled out in diamonds. College graduation calls for a new car, because every time you turn your old car on, Paige holds on for dear life, scoffing about how her next brand deal would go towards buying you your dream car. Living with Paige is a dream (which I'll get into later), but one thing Paige would do when it's time for the two of you to move on from your quaint yet lovely Storrs apartment is insist the two of you build a house together, from the ground up.

Paige would want the house to be perfectly your own. If you worked out, a full gym would be there for you. Paige would insist that you needed a library for your books, a get ready with me room, an office for you, the bathroom of your dreams, staged exactly how you have always dreamed of. You definitely have to talk her off the ledge for some of the things she insists you need, but your heart swells at her dedication of wanting to create a place that's perfect for the two of you to love and live in for as long as this part of her journey lasts.

to be loved is to be known...

Going back to living with Paige, it wouldn't just be the physical structure of your home that Paige would put her heart into. Paige would be the absolute best partner to live with, no matter where you lived.

She would do whatever she could to make your life easier at home. Paige would insist on having a towel/blanket warmer in the house so she could meet you after your shower with a warm towel, or wait for you to come home from a tough presentation with a warm blanket, mugs of steaming hot cocoa ready and your favorite movie queued up on the TV.

Paige loves leaving notes all around your space. On the bedside table next to your side of the bed, on the mirror in the bathroom, outside the fridge. Little things such as "I love you" or "you're beautiful," but also small reminders as she knows sometimes you can get forgetful. "Don't forget to fill your water" or "your computer is plugged in by the couch," small things you might gloss over, but things she knows will make your life infinitely easier.

Paige also loves meeting you at home with your favorite meal from take out. She doesn't strike me as much of a cook, but I know she would love to pick up your favorite burger, pasta dish, pizza, Asian food, whatever made you happy. She had a sixth sense for knowing when you'd be tired and wouldn't want to cook, or really just when you were craving a comforting bite of your favorite restaurant's meal.

to be loved is to be known...

I feel like clothes is one of Paige's favorite parts of your relationship. I know that sounds strange, but there is nothing Paige loves more than seeing you wrapped up in her "Buckets" sweatshirt, her classic plaid pajama pants tied around your waist, lounging on the couch waiting for her to come lay with you. She melts to see you in her clothes every time.

If you had more of a feminine style, Paige would love the way your styles complement each other and balance out. She would live for matching basics, initial necklaces that never leave anyone questioning who either of you belong to, matching rings she got you for your first anniversary, matching color schemes, any way that you could show your love for each other and your commitment to each other through fashion, which Paige truly loves. Even if your styles are complete opposites, Paige will still find a way to connect the two of you together, making you look like a perfect pair.

If you had more of a masculine, street style, a style more similar to Paige, she would live for matching sneakers, matching sweat suits, matching hair styles (if possible), anything she can do to show that the two of you are connected. She would love stealing your sweatshirts, because it isn't a one way street. Paige would never be spotted in a hockey sweatshirt if it weren't for you.

Paige would love to buy things that she sees that she thinks you would look good in. This is really tough for her because she can find a way to connect basically anything to you. "It would bring out your eyes," "it would look so beautiful for our date tomorrow," "I caught you looking at it on tiktok," literally anything. You would definitely have to set boundaries with Paige about gift giving, especially with clothes, because you would need two wardrobes with the amount of clothes, shoes, and accessories Paige would want to buy you.

to be loved is to be known...

Don't get me wrong, Paige can definitely be the life of the party. But I feel that mostly, Paige would want to do what you would want to do. If you were in the mood to go out on the town, Paige would be the DD, fixing your hair and helping you into the apartment at night when you had too much, her eyes full of love, feeling so grateful that she gets to be the one to take care of you.

After a win, Paige can go either way. Sometimes she loves to go out, and other times she wants to "go home to her sweetheart," her exact words. Her teammates love to roast her for that, but she could not care any less.

She loves going out with you after wins, where people are congratulating her on the win but all she cares about is the beautiful girl on her arm, looking at her like she put the stars in the sky. No matter what Paige was wearing on her lips, it was always all over your cheeks and neck by the end of the night. She can't keep her hands, and definitely can't keep her lips off of you on a night out. It isn't even inherently sexual, she just loves you so much and wants to show you how much she loves you. Show you that she would give up everything the basketball life has to offer if you asked her. She loves you truly that much.

Don't think Paige doesn't love a night in after a game though. "Going home to her sweetheart" means stopping at the drive thru on the way home from the game, her hand never leaving your thigh, reaching over to kiss your cheek while stopped at a red light.

And when you get home, Paige loves nothing more than to change into matching pjs (she is a sucker for these), fill up your water bottles, do. your skincare routine together (which really means you doing your routing on Paige), and climbing into bed together. Sometimes you turn on a light show to watch that you've both seen countless times, or a familiar comfort movie. It doesn't matter though, because the two of you are always more wrapped up in each other, small kisses, soft "I love you's" just a true, loving environment which makes you both go to sleep feeling like your heart grew three sizes.

[jun1perf1nch17]

Shadows and Silk

Chapter one: First Impressions

Sevika x (F) Reader

Summary: You a new prostitute at Babette's brothel meets the regular Sevika a harden criminal with a dark history. Despite her past and her reputation of being cold and closed off, behind closed doors she shows you a different kind of woman. Throughout your time together your purely transactional relationship grows into one of love and affection. How will the both of you handle a relationship and the uprising of a revolution against Piltover, will she drag you down with the revolution or will you both flourish in the chaos.

Warnings: 18+ Sex work, Mentions of Sex

Word Count: 2377

A/N: This is my first time writing fan fiction like ever! So let me know what y'all think of it. Hopefully y'all are in love with Sevika as much as I am. Also I'm gonna try and update every week if not every other week.

MEN and MINORS DNI

I stand before Babette's brothel, the neon lights adorning the front of it paint my face in a kaleidoscope of vivid colors.

Just days ago, I was living in a small town seven hours outside of Zaun, working in a brothel not much different than Babette's. Life was manageable, steady, even. I had earned enough to scrape by, and I even had regulars I’d grown comfortable with. But everything changed when the town's governing council launched an effort to crack down on prostitution. It turns out a lot of the men on the board had gotten caught with prostitutes in other brothels across town, and it seems like their wives did not like that too much. One by one, brothels across town were raided and shut down. The Red Garter, my little corner of solitude, was no exception. And so, here I am, standing in front of Babette's.

Even after over three years in this industry, the anxiety of a new job still clings to me like a second skin. I inhale deeply, willing my nerves to settle and step toward the door. As I push it open, a small bell chimes overhead, announcing my arrival. It was earlier in the afternoon so the place was almost barren of any clients. The clients that were there were sitting with some of the girls in their rooms, and looked like they were chatting away about whatever was on their minds at the time. 

Walking down the dimly lit hallway past the rooms where I could assume the workers were housed, I made my way toward the back of the establishment. If I had to guess, the office was back there. Sure enough, I soon came across a curved door with a sign hanging on it that read Employees Only. I knocked lightly, and a muffled “Come in” echoed from within.

Pushing the door open, I stepped into a small, cluttered office. Behind the desk sat a short yordle woman, her large ears twitching slightly as she scribbled something onto a piece of paper. The desk was a chaotic mess, papers were scattered everywhere, as though she’d been juggling a dozen tasks at once.

“Are you (Y/N)?” she asked, her soft eyes meeting mine.

“Yes, ma’am. That’s me.”

She let out a soft hmmph at my reply, leaning back in her chair.

“I was reviewing the application you sent in. Quite the resume you’ve got there. Most people who apply here are on their last legs, desperate and out of options.”

I offered a small shrug. “Well, being a prostitute wasn’t exactly my dream job either, but I’ve come to enjoy the work.”

Her lips curled into a knowing smile, her expression one of quiet approval. “Good attitude,” she said, her tone firm yet warm. “You’ve been around the block, and it seems like you’ll fit in just fine here. I trust you already know the ins and outs of this line of work, so let’s cut to the chase. Do you want the job?”

Relief flooded through me, a weight lifted off my shoulders at the stress of not finding a job. My face lit up, unable to hide the joy surging through me. “Yes ma’am I would love to take the job”

“Perfect! Let me give you the rundown on how things work around here and a few warnings about Zaun, especially since you’re new to the area,” she began, her tone brisk but not unkind. “First things first, most of the clients you’ll see are thugs, criminals, drunks, you name it. Be smart about who you let into your room. You’re your own company here, so you have full control. You can accept or deny whoever you want.”

I nodded along attentively, letting her know I was listening. Encouraged, she continued, “Now, you’ll be staying here at the brothel unless you’ve got another place to live, which I’m guessing you don’t?” She paused, raising an eyebrow as she waited for me to respond.

“No, ma’am, I don’t,” I confirmed.

“Perfect!” she said with a cheerful clap of her hands. “In that case, let me show you to your new room.”

Sliding off her chair, she stood, and I couldn’t help but blink in surprise as she stepped down, revealing her full height or lack thereof. She barely came up to my knees. How does someone so tiny manage to run a place like this, let alone in a city as dangerous as Zaun? I wondered. Before I could linger on the thought, she gave a gentle push to the small of my back, nudging me toward the door.

We walked back down the hallway, her pace brisk despite her stature. As we passed one of the rooms, I noticed its curtains were drawn tightly shut, but faint, Wanton moans escaped through the velvet fabric. My cheeks warmed as my mind wandered, imagining the scene unfolding behind the heavy drapes.

Just a few feet beyond the occupied room, she stopped in front of another doorway, drawing aside the curtains with a dramatic flourish. “Here it is, your new home!”

I stepped inside and took in the space. The centerpiece of the room was a circular bed set against the back wall, dressed in blush pink sheets and bedding. To the right, was a matching pink velvet couch to add a touch of comfort, and on the left, an antique wooden dresser stood ready to hold my belongings. The room exuded a strange mix of elegance and whimsy, a stark contrast to the gritty streets of Zaun.

As I walked further in, something on the bed caught my eye, a mask. Curious, I picked it up and turned it over in my hands. The mask was intricately crafted to resemble an albino deer. The ears had a soft blush of pink on the inside, with tufts of delicate fur peeking out. The snout extended downward, the pale pink nose blending harmoniously into the design. It was hauntingly realistic, each detail painstakingly precise.

Whoever made this must be an amazing artist, I thought, running my fingers over the smooth surface. It’s almost unsettling how lifelike it looks. Awe washed over me as I continued to inspect the mask.

Babette must have noticed me inspecting the mask because she spoke up. “Everyone must wear a mask at all times when they’re with a client. It’s purely for your safety, nothing more. We wouldn’t want anyone recognizing you in public and causing you trouble, now would we?”

“No, ma’am,” I agreed, carefully placing the mask back on the nightstand beside the bed.

“Now,” she continued, “why don’t I show you the bathing quarters?”

I followed her out of the room and down the hallway to the far end, where she stopped at a stairway concealed by heavy curtains. With a dramatic sweep, she pulled the curtains aside and gestured for me to go first. I climbed the stairs and found myself in a stunning bathroom. At the back of the room, a wall of frosted windows let in soft, diffused light, illuminating a massive circular bathtub. The windowsills near the tub were lined with a wide variety of soaps and lotions, presumably for the employees’ use. To the left of the tub, several vanities were arranged along the wall, some cluttered with makeup and perfumes, others nearly bare. On the right, a row of doors likely concealed toilets.

“This is where you’ll bathe while you stay here,” Babette explained. “The soaps are yours to use, but feel free to bring your own if you prefer.” I hummed softly in acknowledgment. “And one rule about the bathrooms: no clients are allowed up here.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I replied with a nod.

She led me to the left side of the room, where she pointed out my designated vanity and sink. Each vanity was marked with a colored ribbon to identify its owner, mine had a pink ribbon tied neatly around the top, matching the soft blush tones of my room.

We lingered in the bathroom for a while as she explained more about the expectations during my stay. I was required to pay Babette 400 Notes at the end of each week. She advised me to keep my prices high enough to maintain value but not so high that it discouraged clients. Most of the girls charged 100 Notes per hour, she added.

After discussing the job and getting to know each other better, Babette finally led me back downstairs.

As we descended the stairs, Babette led me back toward my room. Before I could reach the door, I collided with something solid, something that felt like a brick wall. I stumbled backward, only for Babette to catch me by the waist, stopping me from falling onto her.

“Watch it!” the brick wall barked.

I looked up, startled, and found myself face-to-face with a woman towering at least 6’5”. She was massive. Her shoulders were broad like a linebacker’s, and her muscular arms looked strong enough to crush a skull. As I gave her a quick once-over, I realized she was shamelessly doing the same to me. Her intense gaze sent a shiver down my spine. Without a word, she huffed, brushed past me, and strode toward the front door.

I turned to watch her leave, but my eyes flicked toward the room she had just exited, the previously closed-off one. Inside, I saw a woman sprawled on the bed, fully nude and visibly panting. “Looks like she had a good time,” I whispered to Babette, half-teasing.

But when I glanced at Babette, her expression wasn’t amused. Her lips were pressed into a thin line, her eyes clouded with concern. She grabbed my hand and gently pulled me closer, speaking in a low, urgent tone.

“Listen, you need to be careful with that one. Her name’s Sevika, Silco’s right-hand man. She’s known for pushing the girls to their limits. Some can’t handle it and end up out of work for days. A lot of them refuse to work with her anymore.” Babette paused, watching my reaction before continuing. “If you decide to take her on, that’s your choice. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

I nodded, trying to sound nonchalant. “Well, we’ll see if she even wants me first,” I said with a teasing smirk.

Babette narrowed her eyes slightly but didn’t reply. Instead, she turned and continued down the hall toward my room. Pulling back the curtain, she gestured for me to enter.

Breaking the silence, she said, “Now that you’re caught up on everything, here are your keys, one for your bedroom and one for the bathroom. I figure you’ll want to head out for clothes and essentials. Just make sure you’re safe if you leave.”

With that, she turned to go.

“Bye,” she called over her shoulder as she walked away.

Once Babette leaves, I turn to face my room. I walk over to the bed and let myself fall face-first into the pillows, savoring the softness after the long, exhausting day of moving in. For a moment, I just lie there, letting the quiet envelop me. But reality soon hits, I don’t have anything to wear, for work or otherwise. With a groan, I push myself up and off the bed, reluctantly grabbing my purse before heading toward the front door.

Since I’m still unfamiliar with the area, I decided to stick close to the brothel. Luckily, I found a thrift shop and a small lingerie store nearby. At the thrift shop, I pick out some basics: a couple of pairs of jeans, denim shorts, tank tops, and crop tops. I also grab a few trendier, club-worthy outfits for nights out. The lingerie shop offers more elegant options, and I settle on a simple pink set to match my room and a sultry black one-piece that oozes confidence.

By the time I finish shopping, the night is alive. The city streets are filled with laughter, the clinking of glasses, and the hum of people enjoying themselves. As I make my way back to the brothel, something catches my eye, a bar called The Last Drop. Through the windows, I spot her, the towering woman I ran into earlier. She’s seated at a round table near the back of the bar, surrounded by men who seem engrossed in a card game. Judging by their scowling faces, they’re not winning.

She’s got a cigar hanging loosely from her mouth, its ember glowing faintly as she exhales smoke without even bothering to remove it. There’s an air of effortless dominance about her that’s hard to ignore. My eyes linger on her, tracing the sharp lines of her jaw and the way she seems to command the room without saying a word. Suddenly, as if sensing my gaze, she turns and locks eyes with me.

My heart skips a beat, and heat rushes to my cheeks as I quickly look away, embarrassed at being caught staring. I hurry past the bar, my steps quickening until I’m out of sight.

When I finally reach the brothel, the exterior is abuzz with activity. Men linger by the walls, cigarettes glowing between their fingers as they laugh and chat. A few toss lewd comments my way as I walk past, but I keep my head down and ignore them, focusing on getting inside.

Back in my room, I pull the curtains closed behind me, tying them off to block out the outside world, then lock the door. I begin unpacking my purchases, folding each piece carefully and tucking it away into the dresser. As I work, I can’t shake the thought of Sevika. Despite our only interaction being that brief, accidental collision, she lingers in my mind. There’s something magnetic about her, a mix of strength, mystery, and danger that both intrigues and unsettles me. Babette’s warning echoes in my head, but it doesn’t stop me from wondering what it would be like to have a moment alone with her.

The rest of the night passes quietly. I finish unpacking and change into my PJs. I curl into my pink sheets, letting the softness lull me into relaxation. Yet, as I drift off to sleep, my mind inevitably wanders back to the tall, imposing woman.

[ash-says]

Things to be aware of as a Hopeless Romantic:

We all have been there daydreaming about the perfect man, the perfect life, the perfect whatever,etc. Still life is not full of roses and thorns are inevitable.

So here are some aspects to look out for according to me so that you won't fall in the delulu is the only solulu trap.

Remember if you follow me, we don't do regrets here. We accept, take accountability and move on. We don't soak ourselves in problems. We solve them effectively.

1) Drop those rose-colored glasses. Crush them under your feet and now look at the world again. Learn to accept reality. It is what it is. Not what you make it out to be. Learn to become an observer of your life from time to time. It will give you the real picture.

2) Potential is useless if you are not leveraging it. It's a trap both for yourself and others. You see potential in him of changing and being a good guy?? Girl, he *IS* not a good guy. It's not your job to raise a man. It's embarrassing. Stop babysitting grown men.

3) Standards are important but ensure they are not rooted in fantasy. Let's be honest finding a man who is rich, dark, tall, sexy and talks in the way you read in your romance novels is difficult. I am not saying it's impossible but don't be too rigid. All I will say is make sure you are also on the level where if you come across such a man he should be ready to date you.

4) Men view sex differently than us women. I know many of you will get triggered after reading this but the majority of men really view women as sex dolls. Blame the porn industry maybe. Good men exist but not every other man who talks sweetly is good.

5) A person in your life treats you nicely. Always talk sweetly, tells you that you matter to them but their actions don't match it. Chances are you are being breadcrumbed. Plans being cancelled? Messages being unseen? But when confronted all you get is,"Sorry love, I was busy. I was going to do it. You matter a lot,etc etc." Breadcrumbing. Be smart it can happen even in friendships too. I understand people get busier with time and things do happen. Use your discernment to see who really is busy and who is faking to be busy.

6) That uncle was so kind to me. He talked to me sweetly and always tried to help me out. Now, that's really sweet of him. Next he calls you home to help out with the household chores and he is alone at home because his wife is out of town for some work. Would you go and help? Yes. Will you go alone? No. That's unsafe.

No matter how much a gentleman a man appears to be you are not allowed to be in a situation where he could potentially take advantage of you. You always bring along a friend or deny it. I know it's wrong to not help someone but at your own risk. No. Never. It's common knowledge in our society.

7) Dreaming of a Prince Charming to whisk you away from all your troubles??? Dream on. The idea that a soulmate or one person will magically solve all our issues is dumb. We as human beings add to each other's happiness rather than becoming the core of it.

8) One of the biggest mistakes I have seen girls around me make is of being fully invested in a relationship to the point one small fight makes them depressed. That's codependency. It's unhealthy.

9) Never make your relationship your identity. You should always have a separate identity out of it. Stop curating yourself for your partners. Morphing yourself according to their likes and dislikes. That's one way ticket to an identity crisis after breakup. Compromises are essential but changing your core self??? Crazy shit.

10) Your relationship should not be the reason for your downfall. It happens especially with my intense girlies we invest so much of ourselves in the relationship to the point it becomes our focal point and when it faces upheavals we are devastated. The mental distress starts flowing in other areas of your life and suddenly your grades are falling, your career seems unstable, etc. Develop the emotional strength to compartmentalize your emotions and not allow them to overflow in other areas and affect them.

Imagination is fertile but being delusional is being stuck in a swamp.

That's all for today's show on ash-says. Stay tuned for more illegal tricks and explosive opinions.

[jjks1ut]

She

pairing: pervy!getou x reader

summary:you just moved into the neighborhood and suguru doesn't seem to know why but something attracts him to you and he can't seem to get enough

cw:explict content, blow job, edging, dirty dreams, stealing underwear, pervy content, breaking in and entering, whimpering, masturbating, fingering, cunnilings

a/n:new jjk fic, let me know if I should continue on with the jjk fics or you guys will like to see any other characters like the x-men(who im definitely obsessed with rn)

You had started off as Suguru Getou’s neighbor as you moved in next door from him. He had just come back from a quiet outing that afternoon till he saw you. From the way your curves held onto the tight stretch of your jean skirt, to the way he heard your whimpers of discomfort  at the heavy boxes you were trying to push up the stairs. You were precious. He had only known mostly people of the slums to be living here but you were like a fine jewel at a dirty pawn shop amongst the other residents. He never liked the idea of  serious relationships whether platonic or romantic ever since what happened a few years ago with his friends but he knew he wanted you, and from there you became his obsession. He promised himself to keep his distance but will go to all kinds of extensive measures to keep you reliant on him and only wanting his attention for as long as he could keep you here. 

“Hey, need help?”Suguru asked as he took some of the boxes out of your hand before you could even protest. 

“Oh thank you so much, you didn’t have to but I really appreciate it”, you smiled with those bright eyes of yours and the same smile to match sending him even further in his obsession 

Over your time being his neighbor you got to know each other well to the point you almost trusted him with any and everything. Sure it was always stuff you kept to yourself which he seemingly respected, but with his stay he began to notice every little thing you may have not told him. 

Like the pinned up certificate in your living room showing where you graduated from and your degree. To the way you wrote out everything you planned for the day on a sticky note on your fridge, something he always thought was cute.

His especially favorite thing was when he  invited himself  inside your bedroom when you asked him for something, there he found that with a short walk across your shared fire escape his bedroom window lied just beside your own perfect for what he had in mind. ;)

So whenever he knows you won’t be home he takes upon himself to climb on the fire escape that leads right to the bedroom window of your apartment as you always seemed to leave the window cracked even when you weren’t home. Did you not understand the danger of guys like him just sneaking in and snooping through whatever he wanted. But times like these had him thankful just the same. 

Day after day he’ll steal a thing or two, from your room. Whether it was a perfume that reminded him of your signature scent, some lipstick of yours he always saw on your lips and wished he could watch smear and smudge as he imagined pulling you into a deep and heated kiss as his tongue began to explore the entire expanse of your lips with that cherry red lipstick.  Sometimes he’ll even sneak a little peek through your laundry basket to steal a pantie or two before sneaking back to his apartment knowing you’ll be home soon.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

“Fuck-”, was the soft groan that came from his agape mouth as he laid in bed within his own secluded apartment as he had that those panties he just stolen a few days ago wrapped around his hardened cock as he imagined a small day dream between you and him. There you were in between his shaking and trembling thighs looking up at him with those pretty doe eyes as you licked the droplets of precum seeping from his tip. 

“Yeah, that's it. Please keep going for me~” he whimpered, stifling his voice, scared you would  hear through the thin walls as he continued with his dream. Now you had your lips wrapped around him taking the entirety of his cock in one full gulp as he elicited a soft moan in his daydream pumping whatever of his cock you couldn't fit while keeping a steady motion with your lips until he busted all over your face only to leave the daydream and merely see his now sticky fingers along with your panties in just the same condition. 

But, that's when he heard his phone ring. “Who the fuck-”, he groaned sitting up to see who was calling only to see that it was you quick to answer now.

“Hey, it's me…Suguru.”, he stood at the door knocking for his second time, now too scared at whatever may have happened for you to call so urgently. But then he saw you finally opening the door with your hair pinned up and in that thin tank top that barely held your soft breast that he could clearly see how hardened they now became with the cold breeze from the hallway and those just as thin shorts. He could barely imagine how anything didn’t slip out when you slept but he wouldn't mind finding out if he needed to.

There you two sat in the living room as you cried your eyes out about how so many things had been disappearing in your household and how you began thinking someone had been stalking you and little did you know it was Suguru, the one many you truly trusted in this entire place. As  he listened to your rant he could care less about what you said but was mesmerized by the cute pout on your lips as your eyes stained with tears and the way your soft breasts sat against his chest to the point he could practically feel the way your nipples swelled against him.

“Want me to sleep with you, I heard it helps?”, he offers right away watching the way your cries come to halt and to his pleasure you accept immediately as you end up laying in his arms that night. He tried to be as respectful as possible but he could barely contain himself how close you were laying beside him.

He loved every part of you as you two slept together from the smell of honey and coconut oil from that shampoo you used, the soft feel of your skin under his palm and the way the plush flesh was under him. If he could he would have you right there as he trailed kisses and even bite at your skin while you moaned his name to let him touch you. But, he stuck with a rather lingering touch as he trailed the tips of his fingers against your shoulder as he brought the tips down to your bare thigh feeling the way you shivered and trembled as his cock began to grow simultaneously.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

For a few more nights this became a usual routine where you would text him to come over and give you some support for the night and oh did it turn Sugruru on to how clueless you were. 

For each new night he would stay over he grew more comfortable in your space, some nights he would even ask to take a shower before you two would sleep together just so he could get a feel or smell of everything in your bathroom with his specially favorites were getting to smell the sweet floral scents of your products as he could spend hours worth looking over them and imaging the way the smell would radiate against your skin as he stood next to you or when you’ll be splayed bare in front of him with the smells of circus and vanilla as he eats you out. 

“Fuck”, were all the words he could muster as he laid in his own bed back in his apartment palming his hardened cock vigruosly under his fist. He doesn’t know why but he was pissed for the entire week, he would see you every once in a while as you two shared good mornings or good nights but never once did you ask him to come back to your apartment. 

Were you seeing another guy? Did you realize you didn’t need him anymore? Even worse, did you find out he happened to be your stalker?! These were all the thoughts that ran through his mind but he couldn’t stop the same thoughts that clouded his mind as he felt his own release coming.

His dirty and perverted mind had now imagined you on top of telling him of how dirty of a man he was for snooping around your apartment as you spat words of degradation as you rode him out but only seemed to endear him more as he finally came over the edge with his sticky white cream painted all over the sheets. “Fuck now I need to go wash this shit”, Suguru thought to himself  as he turned on his bed side lamp beginning to take the now stained and wet sheets of his bed when he heard soft whines and cries from the wall pressed against his bedside where he knew your own bedroom was. 

There he sat eagerly as he pressed his ear against the wall, he felt practically stupid like this but he couldn’t give a shit with the way he heard your whimpers for more as if someone else was there, yet he heard no other voices. But what really spiked his interest was when he heard your name come from his lips. He heard you say it a million times before but never like this, and he knew exactly what he wanted to do.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

You were rushing to get your clothes back on from where they laid below your knees with your fingers between your thighs just about to reach your climax before that damn bell. “Fuck, who the hell is ringing the bell that many times”. Shuffling out of the sheets and putting on your night robe to hide anything else that may have been revealing in her nightwear she finally approached the door with a deep sigh. 

“Suguru?”, you gasped upon seeing your next door neighbor. What the hell was he here for? Were you being too loud and he wanted to complain about the disturbance? Instinctively you pulled up the door after one last over at your appearance when you saw Suguru you didn't even realize as a small gasp left your lips seeing him. He looked completely tired, and slightly disheveled in his gray sweatpants and the black sweater he was wearing with his hair down. 

“I heard you?”, he spoke without hesitation as he looked at your attire with a small smirk already on his face. You were shocked with those words and could barely look him in the eye as the words came from his lips. He had caught you, you assumed he must have heard the loud moans of you fucking yourself thinking of him. God! What if he heard you saying his name?! But those thoughts are blurred as he continues to stand there now voicing his concern. “Want some company?”

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

Now Suguru had you splayed on your bed in front of him your clothes he helped take off of you left somewhere on the floor of your bedroom as he was now able to see everything like the hickeys he lifted along your chest and thighs still bright and reddened against your skin. As he sat there and watched your two fingers seeth within your walls the soft gasp from your lips was like music to his ears. “Keep going baby, you got it.”, he edges you on further as he presses a kiss against your thigh for encouragement and endearment. And he's just as pleased for what you do next as you put in a third finger beginning a few long and languid pumps in and out.

“How about you say my name, like I heard you back in my apartment”, he spoke as he continued to watch you and even with the slight embarrassment realizing he had heard you, you can't disagree as you do as you're told. Now you were knuckling deep fingers buried deep within your walls moaning Suguru’s name all as he watched. But before you could finish he asks you to stop as he's now on his knees before you. And only from there are you put even more over the edge as your fingers are now replaced with his tongue already flicking against your clit. 

It was even worse when he thought it was a good idea to add in his digits as well, his fingers thick yet careful to make sure he reaches all the right places and hear each moan that erupted from your lips because of it.

His motions remain calculated as he continues the soft and wet sounds of your cunt mixed in with your whimpers and his heavy breathing. And Suguru couldn't get enough watching as you finally reached the edge and his motions increased until he watched the way your back arched against your sheets. 

“One more thing sweetheart”, he voiced and without even a second to breath or think he's already over you with his heavy and still hard cock in your face. “I did you a favor, and I hope you can do the same.” As he waited to see what you would do next he was already stroking his thick cock clearly needy for you to give him the pleasure he needed. “Come on, I know you want it baby.”, he pleaded, taking your face in between his hands squeezing your cheeks so your pretty lips are already on the tip of his member. 

So as you latch onto the tip of his cock you can feel the way he twitches against your tongue feeling the entire weight of it against your lips. 

You couldn’t even begin to understand how many nights Suguru dreamed of this exact moment as he now watches the way drool dribbles off the side of your chin. “Good girl, keep it nice and slow.”, he spoke to you and did as you were told, bopping your head back and forth along his shaft tongue swirling around the thick tip that you could already feel twitching against your lips. 

“Fuck, you feel so good. Open up wide for me. Alright?”, he spoke eagerly, eye lids already drooping low as he could feel his orgasm come. And ever so willingly you only continued to suck harder rubbing your other palm against his soft balls and letting your other hand trail along his chest dragging it down to where his trail began feeling the way he shivered under your ever so warm touch.

So finally without second notice he finished right in your mouth with warm white semen coating the insides of your mouth and already beginning to drip now on your cheek. 

“You did amazing, now smile for the camera baby.”, he smirked as a small click came from his phone camera letting you know he now had a picture of you with your lips covered in his juices all at his disposal just like you were now.

[kendallroydefender]

Blood & Honey Part 4 (Jax Teller x Reader)

Summary: When you take a teaching job in the quiet town of Charming, the last thing you expect is to cross paths with Jax Teller - outlaw, single father, and the leader behind the town's most infamous motorcycle club.

Authors Note: I am so sorry! For the length of this chapter and for the angst!

It was night, past midnight, when Jax heard the bedroom door being opened. A tug on the covers. Jax waking up more, half his mind telling him to be alert. But when he looked it was just Abel. He looked tired, clutching his stuffed lion.

”Had a bad dream.“ he murmured

Jax sighed, waking himself up more. He was about to reach down and pick him up when there was another voice

”Come here, sweetheart.“

You had already shifted away from him, holding up the covers. Abel didn’t need to be told twice before he climbed into bed. Settling down between the two of you.

Jax watched as you brushed Abel’s hair with your fingers, whispering something he didn’t caught but whatever it was, it worked, Abel relaxed and within minutes the kid was asleep again.

Jax was exhausted, tired after a long day but he couldn’t stop looking at you. His son, who meant everything to him and the woman he had fallen so hard for treating him like her own. It was perfect, everything he ever wanted but hadn’t let himself hope for. Especially after his last relationship went south.

He reached over, hand brushing over your arm.

”You’re good at this.“

You glanced at him, smiling sleepily

”At what?“ you asked

He exhaled and for a moment you thought he’ll say it, these words that were on the tip of your tongue for the last months.

But he just shook his head

”Everything.“

You held his gaze for a long moment, contemplating if you should just say them.

But then you reached for his hand instead, intertwining your fingers. And neither of you said anything else. You didn’t need to. The quiet safety of the bed, Abel peacefully between you. The way he had accepted you so easily in his life. The way you had let them both in. This felt like a real family. Something Jax hadn’t let himself believe he could have.

Jax walked onto the TM parking lot the next morning after he dropped you and Abel off at school. He took the mail from the mailbox. A few bills, the usual. But in the back he found a large brown envelope. 'Shit' these are never good. Jax Teller scribbled across it was the only thing on it.

Opening it he found a single paper in it.

When he pulled it out he felt his blood run cold.

A picture of you. Walking out of a grocery store.

Jax stared at it.

He knew what that means.

This was a message.

'We know who she is'

'We know where she goes'

'We know that she matters to you'

Jax was sitting at the bar. Burning cigarette between his fingers forgotten, jaw clenched and staring off into nothing.

Opie noticed immediately

”What’s going on?“ he asked taking a swig of his beer.

Jax exhaled, shaking his head

”Got a message today.“

He slid the envelope over, Opie pried inside

”Who sent this?“ Opie‘s expression darkened.

”No name, just this.“ Jax told him.

Opie swore under his breath

”Shit, they’re watching her, Jax.“

”Yeah. That’s why I gotta end it.“

That made Opie pause, taking a long unreadable look at his friend

”You sure about that?“

Jax let out a bitter chuckle

”You think I wanna do this? That I just wanna- just let her go? But I don’t see another way, man.“

Opie‘s quiet for a moment before speaking again

”You tell her about this?“

Jax clenched his jaw ”No.“

”So you just gonna let her think you don’t want her anymore?“

Jax exhaled, flicking ash of his cigarette

”It’s gotta be clean, Ope. If she knows she’ll fight me on it. And if she does, I won’t be able to do it.“

He didn’t argue immediately. He knew how dangerous this life could be for the people they loved. If someone could understand it was him after all he went through.

He shook his head, gripping Jax shoulder

”Hope you know what the hell you’re doing, brother.“

And as Opie walked off, Jax stared at the envelope knowing Opie was right. But that didn’t made the decision any easier.

The room was quiet. You had been asleep for a while now. While Jax was laying next to you, awake. One arm draped over your waist, his fingers resting lightly against your hip. He should be asleep by now. He wanted to but then tomorrow would come even sooner and he wasn’t ready for that.

So instead he watched you.

You were curled into him, face relaxed, lips slightly parted. His shirt, the one he left here weeks ago, slightly slipped off your shoulder, exposing your soft skin. Jax fingers twitched with the urge to trace it. To memorize the way you felt against his fingertips.

Because he knew that after tonight he wouldn’t get to anymore.

He leaned in, pressing the faintest kiss against your bare shoulder, taking in your scent.

”I’m sorry, Darlin‘.“ he whispered against your skin.

You stirred slightly but didn’t wake, just nuzzling deeper into his chest with a light sigh. It nearly undone him. His arms tightened around you. Just for tonight, just a little while longer.

Because tomorrow he would shatter both of your hearts.

The next morning you woke up early. A smile on your face as you saw Jax next to you. He was still asleep, deeply and peacefully. His face relaxed in a way it rarely was when he was awake. His arm heavy on your waist. He looked so at ease, so at home.

You carefully pushed a few strands of hair off his face. You should let him sleep but he wanted to drive you today. You shifted slightly, pressing a light kiss against his jaw. Then another. Lingering there. He stirred, a soft groan leaving him as his hold on you tightened.

”Hmm, mornin‘, darlin‘“ his voice was gravelly, heavy with sleep.

”Morning, Baby.“ you whispered back.

Jax opened his eyes, a soft, lazy grin spread on his lips. The grin that after all these months still made your stomach flip.

”You always wake a man up this sweet?“ he teased, hand sliding up your back to pull you closer.

You hummed ”Only the ones who deserve it.“ before pressing another kiss to his jaw.

Jax chuckled, tilting your chin up so he could kiss you properly. Slow, deep, like you had all the time in the world. And for a moment it felt like you do.

But Jax knew better, knew that it’s the last morning he would have this. So he pulled you closer, to let himself have this one last time.

You were already making coffee when he came out of the bathroom.

Jax leaned against the counter, watching you. Taking in everything. The way you pour two cups, the soft hum of a song you’re not aware you’re humming.

You turned handing him a cup. It’s the way he always takes it, he had never told you how he likes it, you’re just attentive.

”Thank you, Darlin‘.“ the nickname he called you the first time he met you, it stuck.

Fingers brushed as he took it from you.

You glanced at the clock.

”I should get my things.“

He watched as you gathered your stuff you needed for the day.

He finished his cup as you turned to him again.

”Ready?“

'Not even close.‘ he thought.

”Yeah.“

The radio was on, softly playing as he drove you to school. One hand on the steering wheel, one resting on your thigh. It’s casual, natural, almost muscle memory at this point.

Your fingers grazing over his knuckles, absentmindedly tracing them, twisting his rings.

When you turned up to school you turned towards him

”You sure you wanna pick me up later? You don’t have to if Club stuff comes up.“

”I’ll be there.“ he said ”Wouldn’t miss out on spending a drive with my girl.“

You chuckled, leaned over to kiss him.

A soft one, and another peck afterwards.

”I’ll see you.“ you said as you stepped out of the car.

He watched you as you walked into the building.

Tonight.

It would break your heart.

He hoped it wouldn’t be as bad as his heart was breaking that moment.

When school was over and you had finished clearing your classroom Jax was already waiting out front in his car.

A smile on your face as you approached him.

When you arrived at your house his mood had shifted. He had been on edge, distracted the whole way, like something was weighting on his mind but now it was obvious something was up.

”You okay?“ you asked softly.

”Can we talk?“ he asked clearing his throat

”Yeah, of course. What’s wrong?“

He looked at you for a long time before he spoke again

”I think we need to stop this.“

His words knocked the wind out of you.

”What?“ you asked

Jax jaw clenched

”It’s not safe for you when you’re with me.“

”Jax- I- where is this coming from?“

"I tried-I thought maybe I could keep you out of it, keep you away from all the shit that comes with me, but I can't."

You shook your head, stepping closer.

"Nothing's happened. I-"

But he took step back. Just a traction, but to you it felt it like a gunshot.

"Not yet," he says. "But it will. You're with me, you got a target on your back whether you like it or not."

"Jax, don't-"

"You gotta let this go," he said, and now he looked at you. And it was devastating.

Because there was love in his eyes. And pain.

And regret.

But there's also a decicion.

”Go be with someone safe, someone’s who’s good for you. A doctor or a teacher.“

”Jax, I don’t want anyone else.“

”This was never gonna work. The teacher and the Outlaw. We were just kidding ourselves.“

”Don’t.“ you said tears in your eyes now ”Don’t say this. This was real. You can’t deny that after all these months.“

He stayed silent for a moment, his hands flexing at his sides.

”I‘m sorry, darling.“ he said before he left.

You hadn’t left the house all weekend. Mostly you just laid in bed while the tv was playing some movie or a shitty reality show, whatever, it didn’t mattered anyway. You had mostly been staring at the ceiling, letting the tears run down your face.

When Monday came around you were still a mess. You knew you should go to school spending time with your class would keep you mind busy. But you couldn’t. You needed just one more day. So you called in sick. Spending another day with your sadness about losing the man you loved.

Dinner at Gemma’s had become kind of a routine the last couple days. Jax didn’t have it in him to make food every night and Abel deserved stability.

Jax sat at the table, pushing his food around, half listening to Abel telling them about his day at school.

”- but Miss Y/n wasn’t there today.“

Jax‘s fork stalled, mid motion. His eyes flicked up to Abel.

”She wasn’t?“

Abel shook his head. ”Nope, Mrs. Baker was there instead. She’s kinda mean.“ he made a face before returning back to his food ”Miss y/n was sick.“

Jax swallowed hard. Sick. Yeah. Right.

He could picture it too easily, you curled up in bed, wrapped in the blankets he used to sleep in. Had you gotten up at all since he left? Had you stared at the ceiling for hours instead of sleeping like he had? Had you felt the same ache burning a hole into your chest as he had?

His jaw clenched, fingers pressing into his tigh. He wasn’t sure why it had hit him so hard but the thought of you calling in sick because of him twisted something sharp in him. He had done this, had hurt you and now he had to live with it.

You had been back at work for a week when Monday came around again. You met Gemma in the parking lot after she picked up Abel. Something she had started to do again since the break up. And you were kind of relieved about that, seeing him everyday would’ve been to hard just yet.

Gemma hesitated before she said ”Got something for you.“

Pulling out a bag from the passenger seat. You felt cold the moment you recognized it. It was yours, the one you used to go between his place and yours.

You took it from her. You already knew what was inside. Your sweatshirt you left on his couch, the book you’ve read in his bed, some of your skin care.

Pieces that reminded you of the life you had started to build together.

Gemma studied you with sharp eyes, no doubt reading everything you weren’t saying.

”Didn’t ask for it back.“ you murmured. Gemma exhaled through her nose, ”I know.“ her voice was softer than you had expected. ”He’s the one who packed it.“

You bit your lip, gripping the strings a little tighter. She watched you a moment longer before she nodded ”Take care of yourself, sweetheart.“.

Back at home you put the bag down in your hallway. Not ready to open it up yet and started to gather up the things he had left behind.

A jacket, Jax had draped over one of your chairs. A few of Abel’s toys in your living room, stroking the fur of one of the stuffed animals, a little bear, one of his rings you found on your nightstand. It was painful, every item lingering in your hand longer that it should have.

His shirts stayed in your dresser and on the chair in your bedroom though. Not wanting to part with them because giving them back would mean completely letting him go, and you couldn’t do that yet.

It had been months since that evening.

And you still felt his absence everywhere. You threw yourself into work. Staying later at the school, grading more carefully.

You didn’t tell anyone what happened. When colleagues or friends asked you said it just didn’t work out. Of course nobody knew that you still slept in his Shirts. That they were slowly losing his scent and that alone made you panic.

And then there was Abel. He still talked to you at school, waving whenever he saw you. And after the weekends when your pupils told you about their weekend it hurt the most. Because when he told you how he rode with his Dad, how he played ball with him, how Jax made pancakes (”They weren’t like yours“) it made you remember how you were there with them. How it was supposed to be, how you missed seeing Jax laugh with his son. But you smiled at the little boys stories, telling him how exiting that sounded. When one time Abel told you that his Daddy seemed sad yesterday, it almost shattered you. You thought about calling him then but you knew it was better to stay away, hearing his voice would make you cry.

And it was the same for Jax. Abel talked about what he did in school, what you taught them, how you had complimented his drawing. And then Abels birthday was coming up, a few months after the breakup. He was exited as every other kid is about turning older. He talked about cake, presents, people he wanted to invite. He dropped it casually. The way he said he wanted you to come too. And Jax froze up. He wasn’t prepared for that.

”I don’t think she can come, buddy.“ He said, forcing himself to sound neutral. ”Why not? She’s my friend.“ Abel frowned

Because I fucked it up.

Because she can’t be near us.

Because it would hurt too much.

”It’s summer, she’s probably visiting her family.“

Abel didn’t argue but he could see his son’s disappointment. It stung.

That night Jax thought about calling you. Just to ask, just to hear your voice again. But he couldn’t. This was how it had to be.

One day Abel said something that really caught you off guard. It was maybe two months after the break up when he lingered behind as his classmates went into the Lunchbreak. ”Miss Y/n?“ His voice piped up beside you

”Can I eat lunch with you today?“ He asked, rocking slightly on his heels, eyes hopeful. Your heart stopped.

”Oh Abel,“ you said softly ”Don’t you want to eat with all your friends?“

He shrugged ”I used to eat with you and Daddy sometimes. But now we don’t.“

You could have sworn your chest cracked. You wanted to hug him, tell him none of this is his fault.

You forced a smile ”I’ll tell you what- You finish lunch with your friends and if you still want to sit with me later, you can help me organize my classroom before you’re getting picked up. Sound good?“

He nodded smiling ”Okay.“

And then he was off again, running after the others.

But you sat back in your chair, taking a deep breath. Because as much as you wanted to put space between yourself and Jax, Abel was not apart of that distance, he shouldn’t feel bad because you broke up.

Gemma arrived at the school expecting to see her Grandson outside like always. She didn’t spot him so she asked one of the teachers

”Where’s Abel Teller? Supposed to pick him up.“

The teacher nodded

”Oh, he’s in Miss Y/L/N’s classroom. He wanted to stay there.“

Gemmas eyebrows lifted, Interesting.

She walked down the Hall, peeking through the open door.

Abel sat beside you, happily drawing while you were grading papers.

You looked comfortable together, like this was normal. And she supposed it was.

”Well, ain’t this sweet.“ She announced herself

”Oh, Hello. I- Abel just wanted to stay inside today. I hope that’s okay.“ You quickly said afraid that you overstepped

”That boy’s got good taste in company.“ She waved a hand dismissvely.

”Come on, get your stuff.“ Gemma told her grandson.

Once Abel was out of earshot you turned to Gemma. ”He asked to sit with you today?“ She asked.

You nodded, letting out a soft laugh that didn’t reach your eyes

”Yeah, guess he still thinks I belong at his table.“

Gemma caught the way you fidgeted with the papers on your table.

”Kid’s got good instincts.“ She watched you swallow, looking away for a moment.

”He also… He asked when I was coming over again.“ You added, Gemmas brows lifted

”What’d you tell him?“

You let out a sigh ”Didn’t knew what to say. Didn’t want to hurt him.“

She studied you for a moment. The tiredness in your face, your smile that wasn’t as bright as it used to be every time she saw you.

”Abel asked about her today.“

Jax stiffened, before answering

”He askin’ a lot?“

”Enough,“ Gemma replied ”Enough to sit his little ass down in her classroom just to be near her.“

Jax rubbed a hand down his face, Fuck.

”Wanted to skip Lunch to sit in her class. Found them together, she was grading papers while he sat next to her, drawing.“

Jax looked down

”Know what else?“ His mother continued ”He asked her when she was coming over again.“

Still nothing from Jax except a deep exhale and a locked jaw

”She didn’t know what to tell him,“ Gemma continued, watching him. ”You’re not just hurtin’ yourself, Jackson.“ Gemma muttered ”You’re hurtin’ that boy. And you’re hurtin’ her.“ She waited a beat before getting up, as she was leaving she said ”So you better be damn sure this is what you want.“

And shit, he already knew this isn’t what he wanted. But wanting didn’t change facts. It never did.

Jax had tried. Now that he was single again there were women trying to get his attention. Especially at the club. And he had gone to the backroom with them, just to shut his brain off. It had worked before after other break ups. But the minute she started kissing him, touching him it just felt wrong. Her scent was wrong, her touch was wrong. It did the opposite of shutting his brain off, it made him realize how you were supposed to be the only one to touch him like that.

After that night he didn’t even entertain the girls at the clubhouse anymore. Even the guys noticed. Jax was constantly in a bad mood.

They watched Jax sit grumpy at the bar, slamming down his beer bottle.

”Jesus, man. You’ve been in a mood for weeks. Gonna tell us what’s eating you or should we just keep dodging the bullets?“

Tig said one night.

Jax just shook his head ”Ain’t got shit to say.“

Bobby leaned back in his chair, studying him for a moment

”Funny, cause last time I checked you were actually in a good place for once and now? You’re a goddamn storm.“

”Maybe I just got a lot on my plate at the moment.“ Jax gritted out

”Or maybe you lost somethin‘ you didn’t wanna lose.“ Opie, who had been quiet until now, spoke up.

Jax jaws tightened, he pushed off the bar while grabbing his beer

”Drop it.“.

The guys exchanged looks but knew better than to push further. They all knew what this was about anyway, or rather who it was about. And they knew Jax Teller was miserable.

You were just grabbing some essentials at the grocery store after work. You turned a corner into the next isle and spotted Opie standing in front of a shelf. You stopped as he looked up at you.

You both paused for a second, both surprised. It’s been months since you saw him last.

”Hey.“ he said easy, kind but knowing.

You smiled a little unsure but genuine, ”Hi Opie.“

You talked a bit, just small talk, about his kids, your work, light stuff.

But Opie’s perceptive and Jax was always important to him so when he asked ”How you been?“ you knew he was asking about more than just your job.

You hesitated for a moment before answering

”I’m okay.“

Opie gave you a look that said 'are you?‘ but instead he shifted slightly, scratching his beard before offering ”Jax has been a miserable asshole.“

It was supposed to be lighthearted but it made your chest tighten. You looked down, Opie’s eyes following yours, but instead he spotted the items in your basket. The coffee in your basket, the same brand Jax always had in his house.

”You still think about him.“ it wasn’t a question.

You let out a breath, a soft, almost self deprecating chuckle ”Of course I do.“

He nodded. That’s what he expected you to say. He didn’t gave advice but he offered a small smile.

”Take care of yourself, alright.“

Jax came home from a long day at the club, just waiting to crawl into bed and forget about everything in his sleep for a few hours.

He pulled back the sheets and there it was. A simple black hair tie, caught in the fabric. He felt like the air got knocked out of his lungs and for a moment all he could do was stare at it.

The memories rushing back, the way he pulled the hair tie off just to play with your hair, the way you pulled your hair up in the mornings while making coffee.

Jax swallowed hard, picking it up, running it between his fingers. Then without thinking he slipped it around his wrist. It stayed there after that. A quiet reminder. A piece of you with him, even when you’re gone.

[lotuzies]

𝓒𝐑𝐘𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐋 𝓡𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘 ⟢ intro

CRYSTAL (크리스탈) is a 5 member south korean girl group under HYBE entertainment. They made their debut on August 5th of 2016 with their single "As If It's Your Last", gaining immediate attention from the public for their catchy lyrics and unforgettable looks. Known for their independent artistic creativity, CRYSTAL are currently dominating the music industry with the immense support of LUCYDs, their fanbase.

popular tracks include ⌗ lucyd dreams, INVU, supernatural, whiplash, maniac, hype boy, nobody knows, forever young, siren, lovesick girls, villain, papillon, diet pepsi and much more!

meet the 𝐆𝐄𝐌𝐒 ⌗ who is crystal?

𝓓AYONG the ultimate leader, takes care of us like a mother, earning the title "leader of k-pop", known for her elegance and grace.

𝓗AYUN the main vocalist of the group, also known as "korea's golden voice", set to launch her own make up brand soon.

𝓨URI they call her "big3's dream", she had company after company begging her to sign with them, everyone wants that face in their group.

𝓜IA rapper of the group, crystal's certified sunshine. it's not for nothing she has the "monster performer" title, her charisma never fails to charm others.

𝓘ZZY (yours truly) crystal's main dancer, widely known as "kpop's dancing gem". in charge of producing most of the group's songs, i mean, she's a music genius.

izzy's 𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐑𝐘 ⌗ more inside the life of kpop's certified doll

most of my time goes into working on music, not only as a job but as a passion too. my files are full of melodies and lyrics possibly being used in future songs. fun fact, i have a soundcloud account where i upload scrapped songs that didn't make the cut for final projects, it's not a secret or anything, but fans don't know about it... i wonder if they'll find it someday.

besides that, i'm a huge art lover, have always been, i like to spend time drawing and sketching whatever. it calms me down whenever my mind is being too erratic.

fun facts : i have a cat called pocoyo ⊹ my members are my best friends, super close and genuine relationship with them ⊹ one of the few idols with hispanic descend ⊹ ariana grande's biggest fangirl ⊹ spicy food lover ⊹ i collect pandora charms ⊹ my rep emoji is a panda

the 𝐂𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒 ⌗ izzy's closest friends

𝓜ARK 𝓛EE "mark? well, not to inflate his ego or anything but, i don't think i'd have debuted if it wasn't for him." — my soulmie, pulls me down whenever the overthinking is already taking over, believes in my potential when i don't

𝓙EON 𝓗EEJIN "heejin is really strong, i mean she's been through a lot and she's still there supporting me, i'll forever be grateful for her." — rideordie, hears me rant about whatever, whenever & wherever, will always make me laugh when i need to and if we're in trouble we're in trouble together.

love 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 ⌗ who will izzy choose ?!

𝓝A 𝓙AEMIN pre-debut boyfie, dated each other when we were 15-16 years old but forced to break up by our companies. nonetheless, we're still really close friends, and, on some occasions, there's some tension in the air that none of us dares to mention.

𝓛EE 𝓗EESEUNG met at hybe's producing rooms on a fateful night, turning into an hour long conversation. he's had his eye on me for a while and this was his perfect chance to shoot. does not miss one chance to send butterflies to my stomach.

[dream-a-little-bigger-x]

Maybe We'll Take Some Time | Spencer Reid

Add yourself to my taglist! | Here’s my masterlist!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: Spencer and Reader broke up five weeks ago. When he comes knocking on her door, crying about a friend's death, their love is resparked.

Warnings: Emily's death, canon murder, SMUT, MDNI 18+!!

Author's note: Reader going from ME to nurse doesn't make sense, but let's ignore that and pretend it's possible, all right? Thanks.

Words: 5.4K

It had been five weeks. 

Five weeks since Spencer and y/n had broken up. It had been a mutual decision to call it quits. Neither one of their jobs allowed them to maintain a healthy relationship. For either one of them to be happy, they had no other choice but to let each other go. 

The two had met on the job. While Spencer was a prolific profiler with the FBI, y/n was a medical examiner. During a local case in Virginia, y/n was examining the corpse of a young woman who had fallen victim to a guy the FBI was trying to catch. 

Spencer was gobsmacked at how y/n sounded almost excited about the things she found on the body. She found fascinating things, which ultimately led to the perfect victim profile. It had been the way y/n was so confident about what she had established, the way her eyes lit up with every aspect of the exam. 

However, he never asked her out. He figured they were on the job and needed to be professional. Besides, the chances of them seeing each other again were so slim, he thought. 

But he was proven wrong when the two of them kept bumping into one another. At the coffee shop, at the library, during another case. It was only when y/n moved from being a Medical Examiner to working at the hospital and she was his doctor when he got shot in the knee, that he finally decided to test his luck. 

“Well, once you’re back on your feet…” she handed him a card, “Call me.” 

It wasn’t until a few weeks later when she finally got the call. The two went out for coffee together and had the best time ever. They would talk about whatever came up and y/n allowed Spencer to ramble on about his favorite subjects. After three dates, y/n finally decided she’d had enough of waiting for him to make the first move and kissed him first instead. 

Their relationship was loving and fun until all they were doing was fight about how little they saw each other. Near the end, their fights became petty and about the lousiest of things. After nearly a year of dating, they finally decided to call it quits. 

Y/N often found herself thinking about him, but never did she allow herself to call him. Even if she had to fight the urge to do so. It was better for the both of them if they weren’t in each other’s lives for a while. 

One night, y/n was rereading “Something Wicked This Way Comes” by Ray Bradbry, a book she had read multiple times with Spencer. One that reminded her of him. She was missing him a little more than usual this time, especially with how the rain was pelting against the windows. It was a very typical autumn night, one they would usually spend together, curled up on the couch with books in their laps. 

She was nearly halfway through the book when her doorbell rang. Her brows furrowed as she got up, confused about who could be at her door. It wasn’t like she was expecting someone. After patting her cat’s head, she moved over towards the intercom. 

Pushing the button, she said, “Hello-o?” with that little lilt in her voice he loved so much. 

“Y/N… It’s me…” 

Her world started spinning. It almost felt like she was dreaming. How could it be possible that on the night she missed him the most, he somehow ended up ringing her doorbell? Of course he did. It wasn’t a surprise that even after five weeks apart, they still had the connection. 

“Spencer –” she puffed out some air. “Come on up.” 

She pressed the buzzer to let him up. A tingle frazzled her stomach as she awaited his arrival. Suddenly, her mind started racing. She didn’t know why he was there, all she did know was that her apartment was a mess and now he was going to come up and see how much of a mess her life is now that he wasn’t in it anymore. 

As quickly as she could, she rummaged through her stuff, trying to put as much away as she could before the soft knock on her door stopped her. With trembling hands, she turned the doorknob. Before her appeared the one man she had come to love a little over a year ago. His hair was much shorter than it was the last time she’d seen him. 

“Hi–” she wanted to greet, but stopped when she saw the look on his face. 

His eyes were glazed with tears, his bottom lip quivering. “She–” he tried his voice, but as soon as it betrayed him with a crack, he stopped himself, coughed and tried again. “She’s dead…” As soon as the words left his mouth, he broke down. 

Unsure of what to do, y/n allowed Spencer to fall into her arms where he sobbed violently. Her heart broke at the feeling of this ball of mess breaking against her chest. With one hand, she shut her front door before guiding Spencer towards the couch. 

For a while, she let Spencer cry. His head laid on her chest while his body was wedged between her legs. Her hands were tangled up in his shorter locks, scratching his scalp soothingly. The exact same way they often cuddled after a particularly bad case that had Spencer shaking. She knew this would calm him down quicker than anything else. 

“What happened, angel?” she asked in a whisper, her lips pressed against his head in a kiss. 

Spencer wasn’t ready to talk yet and she didn’t press him to do so. Instead, she kept holding him and kissing his head and soothing his sobs until he was finally ready to do so. 

Wiping his tears, Spencer sat up straight again and y/n followed his example. She tucked her legs underneath her bum, giving him a little more space though he scooted closer as soon as he felt the lack of her presence. His fingers nervously plucked at a loose thread on her sweatpants. 

“It’s Emily,” he whispered, then sniffled. “She, uhm… She… She died.” His brows furrowed as though he was still confused about the facts. His eyes landed on her face, noticing how her eyes had filled with tears at the news. 

“What?” The word came out in a whisper, her voice not able to handle anything louder. 

She reached for his hand on her knee and squeezed. He recounted the events, not leaving anything out. After a good year with him and working the job she did, y/n wasn’t shy of any gory details. By the time he was at the end of the story, the two of them had been reduced to tears. The two of them just sat on the couch, holding hands and crying. 

“I came straight here after the hospital,” he admitted. “I-I didn’t really wanna go home and I–you–” He wasn’t sure how to end that sentence, but y/n understood him. Y/N always understood him. 

She entwined their fingers and squeezed reassuringly. “It’s okay, Spence. Do you want anything? Tea? Some food?” she asked and brushed a strand of his hair out of his face. When they were dating, she was always able to tuck a strand behind his ear, but with his shorter hair, that wasn’t possible anymore. “I bet you’re hungry.” 

“Uh, yeah… Actually,” he offered her a tender smile. 

Disentangling their hands, she patted his before getting up and walking to the kitchen. She heated up some leftover mac-and-cheese and filled up two cups with water. Once the pasta was warm, she took everything with her to the living room where Spencer was cuddling Mr. Gilbert, her cat.  

The two of them shared the bowl of pasta while chatting about how life had been treating them in the time they had separated. It was an amicable conversation that easily lapsed into stories about Emily. Y/N had spent some time with the team, too, so she knew Emily. The few times they had seen each other, they did get along very well. 

It got late. The two of them got too wrapped up in pleasant conversation that neither realized how late it was until Spencer fell asleep with his head in her lap. Soon enough, y/n herself fell prey to sleep. 

“Y/N.” At first, she thought she was dreaming, Spencer voice interlacing with her subconscious because she missed him. “Y/N.” The soft touch on her shoulder caused her mind to wake up before her eyes fluttered open as well. 

“Spence–” 

Everything that had happened last night filtered back into her brain. Spencer knocking on her door, crying, Emily dead, … All of it came back in flashes, reminding her of what he was doing in her place. 

“I-I’m gonna go home. I fell asleep, I’m so sorry,” Spencer muttered and as she watched him gather his discarded Converse, the pelting rain outside registered in her mind. 

“No,” she muttered and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes while getting up from the couch. “No, you’re not gonna go home through weather like this, Spence.”

A sigh heaved his chest. “Y/N–”

“Spencer, please, just stay. I really don’t mind…” She looked into his eyes, trying to figure out what that genius brain of his was thinking. “You can sleep on the couch, if you’re not comfortable sharing a bed anymore. Or you can quit being stubborn and come to bed with me.” 

A flash of recognition appeared in his eyes before he simply dropped his shoes again. With a smile, y/n reached out her hand for him to take, which he did, gladly so. Y/N handed him one of the many college shirts she had stolen and kept from him, earning a knowing glare from the boy. He stripped down to his underwear and chucked the shirt on before crawling into bed with her. 

As if on automatic pilot, the two of them drifted towards each other, limbs tangling together and her head finding its rightful spot on his chest. While the fingers of her right hand toyed with his short curls – she still couldn’t get over the fact he had cut his hair –, his hands found their spot on her lower back and her right upper arm. 

“Thank you,” he whispered, exhaling contently. 

Ten weeks. 

For ten weeks, Spencer came up to her apartment, crying on her shoulder every night because he missed Emily so much. She let him. She let him cry and sometimes, she cried with him. Every night, she’d make them dinner and they’d cry and fall asleep watching a movie together once they were all cried out. 

When he didn’t show up to her place one night around week ten, she’d grown worried. 

There was no way he would just skip out on dinner, suddenly feeling up for taking care of himself. Not without calling or texting first, at least. 

So, with worry pooling in her stomach, she picked up her phone and called him. When that went straight to voicemail, she tried again. And again. And again. After ten failed tries, she grabbed her keys and drove off to his place. 

She was lucky that one of his neighbors just left, so she could sneak in and rush up the stairs to apartment #23. Her heart was beating in her throat, worried about how she would find him. She knew about his struggles and his trauma. She knew about the addiction to dilaudid. And worst of all, she knew him. Whenever he’d pull away from his friends, from her, especially when something like this had happened, he would find his way back to the drug a little too easily. 

“Spence?!” she called out whilst knocking on his door. “Spencer, come on, baby, please!” She could hear the rustling behind the door. She knew he was in. “Let me in…” 

For five seconds, she fell silent, trying to weigh her options. She could wait here until he finally opened the door, or she could just kick it down. She’d seen Derek do it, surely she could attempt it too. Images of her trying to kick down the door flashed before her eyes. None of them ended very well. So, instead, she resorted to pounding the door instead. Surely, that would get his attention. 

“Spencer Reid! Open this door right now!” she yelled, a little too obnoxiously. 

Suddenly, the door opened just a smidge and Spencer’s head popped out. “Y/N,” he stated, matter-of-factly. “Stop making so much noise. Go home. I’m not up for any company tonight.” 

His eyes were blood-shot, the same way they always were when he had been crying. His usually softly curled hair was an absolute mess, sticking out on the sides. To y/n, that just meant that he’d been tugging at it in frustration. Aside from the physical signs, there was also the pushing away. A sure sign that he was, in fact, struggling, and that he needed someone. 

That he needed her. 

Spencer went to close the door, but before it could fall shut, y/n stopped it, placing her flat hand on the wood with all her might. “You are not getting rid of me that easily, Reid,” she grumbled before pushing herself through into his apartment, much to Spencer’s dismay. 

Protests flew off his lips as soon as she started looking around for any evidence that he had, in fact, taken the dilaudid. At first, she thought he was clear, but then her eyes fell on Spencer himself, who had one hand in his pocket, his fingers twirling around something in it. 

Red hot flashes of anger coursed through y/n as she surged forward and grabbed his wrist. Spencer yelled at her, telling her to let go, trying to push her off. But y/n was stronger than he was, or more stubborn. She didn’t let go until she had pried the small vials of dilaudid out of his hand.

“What the fuck were you thinking, Spencer?!” she yelled at him, waving the evidence around in her fury as she distanced herself from him. 

His jaw clenched as he looked at her before matching the volume of her voice. “I was thinking that I’m missing my friend and the woman I love will never love me again the way she did and that everything is hurting so bad that the only thing I’m craving right now is a bit of sweet relief from all of it!” 

She faltered at this. With her heart plummeting to her stomach and the stinging sensation of tears pricking her eyes, she looked at the broken man before her. The man she loved. The man she still loved. 

“Spencer, I get that you’re missing Emily. I miss her, too. But I’m right here. I’m. Right. Here.” With every word of that last sentence she took a step closer towards him until she was in front of him. “Please, baby, you know you can talk to me. I can offer you a shoulder to cry on and all the comfort food you need and I can…” She hesitated for a moment before leaning up and kissing the corner of his mouth. 

As she pulled back to gauge his reaction, she saw something familiar flash across his face. Without needing to ask what either of them was thinking, the two dove right in, locking lips in a passionate, heated kiss. His hands moved to cup her face whilst hers landed on his hips, pulling him impossibly closer by his sweater. 

They stumbled their way into Spencer’s bedroom without once breaking the kiss, even if that meant bumping into tables, cupboards and walls. They were used to gathering bruises from their walks into the bedroom. 

Clothes began flying about the room, the two of them desperately wanting to feel one another’s heated skin flush against their own. It didn’t take them too long before being half-naked and Spencer being on top of her on the bed. His hips grinded against her core, her desire pooling in her underwear. 

It had been a while since they had been in this position, but it all felt natural to them.    

Everything felt natural from the way his lips felt on the expanse of her neck to the way her name sounded through his labored breaths. It was as though they had never stopped being this close. 

Spencer worked his way down from her neck, between her breasts, across her stomach, all the way to her navel. Once he reached her silky underwear, he stopped and used his long, slender fingers to hook around the waistband and slowly pull it down. All she had to do was raise her hips whilst he kissed his way down her hips and inner thigh. 

The item of clothing was quickly strewn about the room whilst Spencer dipped down again, this time using a finger to stroke between her folds. He used his thumb to rub circles on her clit before he gently pushed his index finger inside, eliciting a delicious gasp from the girl underneath him. 

Encouraged by the sounds she was making, Spencer added a second finger. One hand of hers grabbed a hold of his curls whilst the others held a tight grip on the sheets. 

“Spencer,” she moaned and by the lilt in her voice, he already knew what she needed him to do. 

He retracted his fingers and replaced them with his tongue. Licking up her slick folds the way only he could, quickly sent her over the edge. Moans of his name bounced off the walls until that lilt in her voice was back. 

“Spencer, I need you–” she didn’t even need to finish her sentence for him to crawl back up. He kissed her lips sweetly whilst her hand moved from his hair down his chest and to his excited member. She used the precum that had gathered on his tip to smoothen her pumps. 

“Please,” Spencer moaned into her mouth. “I need to feel you…” 

She retracted her hand and wrapped one leg around his waist whilst he maneuvered towards her entrance. Sealed with another passionate kiss, Spencer took that as a reassurance to enter. As his hips grinded against hers, sticky skin slapping together at the movement, y/n kissed his jaw. When she pulled back and laid her head on the pillow again, she looked into his hazel eyes. 

There was that familiar shimmer again. The one she loved. The one she would kill for just to get a glimpse of. In the past ten weeks, it had been nearly impossible to catch even a sliver of it, so she made sure to enjoy it while it lasted. 

“I love you,” she whispered. 

Spencer dipped down to press a kiss underneath her ear. “I love you too,” he whispered back. 

Soft moans and gasps flew about the room, their love for each other conveyed by their actions. It didn’t take too long for the both of them to reach their high and for Spencer to collapse next to her. As if on automatic pilot, y/n moved so her head was lying on his chest, his arms caging her in. 

“Well…” she whispered, still buzzing. 

“Well…” he repeated in that same tone. 

It had surprised them to find themselves in this position again. They had broken up after all, but with all the emotions of the past ten weeks, they had seemingly found their way back to one another and back in each other’s bed. 

“This might be a better stress-relief than the drugs,” he muttered jokingly and kissed her head. 

Frowning, y/n turned her head to look at him. “Might be?!” 

That beautiful laugh of his rolled off his lips. “I’m kidding,” he said and kissed her forehead this time. “Thank you… For being here for me.” 

“You’re welcome.” She tilted her head a little more before planting her lips on his in another searing, spine-tingling kiss. 

The next morning, y/n offered to drive Spencer to work, and though he protested it, she left him no other choice. She wanted to see his colleagues again, too. It had been over four months since she had last seen them. 

And the reunion with one of his colleagues in particular was one he wouldn’t want to miss for the world. 

As soon as the two of them stepped out of the elevator, a loud gasp startled them. “Y/N Y/L/N! I MUST BE DREAMING!” the screeching voice of one Penelope Garcia sounded before she came barrelling down the hallway and scooped the thirty-year-old into her arms. 

“Hi, Penelope,” y/n giggled, hugging the blonde right back. 

“What are you doing here?” she asked and immediately gasped, looking between the two of them. “Are you two…?” She didn’t finish her sentence, but the two knew what she was asking them. 

The thing was that neither of them knew. They hadn’t talked about what had happened last night. It was something they needed to figure out on their own. So, for now, they both shook their heads. 

“No,” Spencer started. “She’s just been helping me get through everything, you know?” 

Penelope nodded her head, though she couldn’t miss the look Spencer gave the smaller woman. It was a look that told a thousand words. There was hope for the couple after all. 

Not catching either of the FBI employees’ looks, y/n was distracted by the other blonde in the building. The one she and Spencer had spent the most time with when they were still a couple. Spencer’s best friend, and inevitably, y/n’s best friend. 

“I’ll be right back. Gonna say hi to JJ,” she excused herself and walked up the small set of stairs towards the communication liaison’s office. Rapping on the door frame twice, she announced her arrival, capturing the woman’s attention. 

JJ’s blue eyes widened before she got up and met y/n halfway to embrace her. “Oh, it’s been so long! What are you doing here?”

“Dropped Spencer off and I wanted to come and say hi to my favorite blondes,” she told her, grinning. Upon noticing the shimmer in her bright blue orbs, y/n sighed and shook her head. That was enough for JJ to offer the woman a seat and take the one next to it herself. 

“What’s going on?” she asked. 

Y/N sighed. “Spencer came to me after – after Emily died…” she trailed off, trying to keep the tears at bay. “It’s been ten weeks of constant crying and taking care of him. And I…” The tears finally escaped, rolling down her cheeks in streams. The grief was finally catching up to her. “I wanna be there for him, but it’s hurting me too, you know? Emily was my friend, too, and I just haven’t really been able to grieve.” 

A soothing hand came up to her shoulder, rubbing soft circles across the fabric of her shirt. “I’m sorry, y/n. That must be difficult for you. Especially since you’re technically still broken up…” 

“That’s the thing,” y/n almost wailed. “I’m not sure we are…” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean coital events have taken place in his bedroom last night,” she told her in a whisper and upon seeing the wide-eyed, jaw-slacked expression on JJ’s face, she couldn’t help but chuckle through the tears. “What do I do, Jayj?” 

JJ inhaled with teeth clenched, making it sound more like a hiss. “All you can do is talk this out with him, see what he wants. The loss of Emily has been hard on all of us, but especially Spencer. He’s gonna need your support to get through this.” 

With a nod and a new-found confidence, y/n went back home. She was determined to talk to Spencer about what had transpired between them. What she didn’t take into account was that that conversation was going to have to wait. Spencer was called on cases every single day, sometimes for days on end. And even when he returned, there was no time for them to talk about it. 

And five months later, Emily suddenly came back from the dead. 

The team was being questioned by the Senate Committee for their retaliatory actions in the wake of Emily’s loss. In their search for Declan Doyle, they found out that Emily’s death had been staged and that she was very well alive. Only y/n didn’t find out about it until Spencer returned from the case and the hearing, knocking on y/n’s door. 

“Hi,” she greeted with a smile when she opened the door for him. 

Instead of coming inside, Spencer stayed put on the threshold, confusing y/n to the fullest. Her heart beat faster at his actions – or lack thereof. 

“Spence?” 

“She’s back,” he whispered, his eyes rather absent. 

“What?” Her tone of voice matched his.

His eyes flicked up to hers and that was when she saw it. The uncertainty, the confusion. For a genius with an IQ of 187, this was something he just couldn’t wrap his head around. It was clear from the way he was looking at the woman he trusted with his entire heart, the one he loved more than anything, that he suddenly wasn’t sure of anything at all. 

“Emily’s back… She-she’s alive…” 

Y/N cautiously reached for his hand and pulled him inside. Shutting the door  behind them, she guided the dazed genius towards the couch where they sat down. Y/N encouraged him to tell everything, to not leave any detail out. And he did. 

Every word that came out of his mouth confused y/n, though from what she knew about the Ian Doyle case, she figured it would have been the best plan to keep her safe. 

“JJ knew,” Spencer muttered. 

Y/N’s eyes widened. She had cried in JJ’s office about grieving for Emily, about Spencer crying on her shoulder for ten weeks straight and she didn’t so much as budge. JJ was one of her best friends. 

Not wanting to bother Spencer with her thoughts, she allowed him to unload all of his on her. The two of them talked about everything concerning the case, ending up falling asleep on the couch when they decided to watch a movie together. 

Y/N sat with the feeling of anger and disappointment for a couple of days while Spencer was in Oklahoma with the team, working on a case together. She took the time to think about what to say to JJ, but all she could come up with were accusations and words laced with poison. 

When Spencer called her that they had landed and that he was going to finish up his report before coming over, y/n decided to pay a visit to the BAU. There was one particular blonde she needed to give a piece of mind to. 

“You knew?!” y/n nearly yelled at the top of her lungs as she burst into JJ’s office. 

None of the team members had even seen her walk in until they heard her voice. She hadn’t even bothered saying hi to any of them. She had one goal in mind and she wasn’t going to take any distractions to keep her from achieving that goal. 

“Y/N…” JJ mumbled, hoping to calm her down. 

But y/n cut her off quickly. “No, don’t you “y/n” me! You knew all this time and when I came crying to you, you didn’t even have the decency to tell me!” 

“Y/N, I couldn’t tell anyone.” 

Y/N’s eyebrow rose. “You couldn’t, or you wouldn’t?” 

“I couldn’t.” 

The answer she was given didn’t satisfy her and it didn’t calm her down, either. “Probably because Spencer didn’t come crying to you for ten weeks straight! Probably because you didn’t have to pry the vials of dilaudid out of his hands!” 

“Y/N!” Spencer’s voice came in between. She looked up to see him standing at the bottom of the stairs. “It’s okay.” He tried to reassure her, but failed completely. 

“No, Spence, it’s not okay.” 

“I’m sorry, y/n. I really am.” 

The woman glanced from Spencer to JJ and back before turning to JJ and scoffing. “Yeah, sure.” There was a bite to her words that shred JJ’s heart into pieces. She hated having two of her best friends mad at her. 

Y/N turned on her heel and left the blonde’s office, finding her way back to Spencer. Grabbing her hand in his, he led her towards the hallway where they could talk in silence without any prying ears or eyes. 

“Are you okay?” she asked, entwining her fingers with his. 

Spencer let out a chuckle. “I should be asking you.” 

“I’m fine,” she rolled her eyes with a bemused smile on her face. “Just needed to get that off my chest… I really hate how she just listened to me cry about you and about Emily, all while knowing what really happened.” 

Shrugging, Spencer shook his head. “They didn’t have a choice. It was for Emily’s safety…” 

“You’re okay with the fact she lied?” She asked, stepping a little closer towards him, the tips of their toes touching. 

“No, but I get why they did it. And besides… Shouldn’t I be glad Emily is still alive?” he asked, looking down at their feet. “And that her death brought us back together?” 

His eyes met hers again with that wonderful glint he usually had when he looked at her. It sent a blissful spark through her chest. One she had missed. Paired with the most gentle, most beautiful smile, it made y/n weak in the knees. 

“Mmh,” y/n hummed, her lips curving upwards. “I guess I should be happy about that.” 

Spencer let go of her hands and instead brought his up to her cheeks, cupping them gently as he tilted her face to properly look her in the eyes. “I love you. I have and always will.” 

Before y/n could even reciprocate the feeling, he had already pressed his lips to hers in a sweet kiss. Flutters went through y/n’s entire body at the sensation of his kiss. She was still in love with this man, she didn’t think she ever stopped. 

“I love you, too. – I am still mad at JJ though.” 

Spencer chuckled. “You ripping JJ a new one will forever be one of the sexiest things I have ever witnessed,” he nearly grumbled. Something flashed in his eyes, too. Something she had seen before. Multiple times. “As for your anger and frustration, I might know a good solution.” 

It was safe to say the couple arrived at Rossi’s for dinner very late. Spencer hadn’t even mentioned it until they were cuddled up in bed, sticky and sweaty from previous activities. After a quick shower, the couple headed down to Rossi’s where the rest of the team was watching him cook. 

“Sorry we’re late,” Spencer apologized when they walked into the kitchen with Morgan, who had come to open the door for them. 

“Yeah. And that’s why I cook alone,” Rossi bit back before turning back to his dish. 

“So, when do we get to drink the wine?” Emily asked the important question. 

“Almost there,” said Rossi as he put his utensils down. “We start at the beginning. You eat what you cook, I’ll supervise, but we’re gonna do this all together, just like a family.” 

Spencer looked down at y/n at the word ‘family’ with that proud, careful smile on his face. He was glad that she was a part of that family again. 

“Now?” JJ then questioned, lifting up her wineglass. 

Winking at her, Rossi nodded his head. “Now.” 

The eight of them raised their wineglasses, clinking them together while a chorus of ‘salud’ rang through the air. After a sip of wine, Penelope turned to the late-comers with a sparkle in her eyes. 

“Soooo…” she started, dragging down the ‘o’. “Are you two…” She repeated her question from a couple months back when y/n visited the BAU post-coitus. 

This time around, Spencer and y/n glanced at each other, the both of them certain of their answer this time. Y/N nodded her head in answer. “Yeah, we are.” 

“We just needed to take some time,” Spencer declared before leaning down and chastly kissing her amidst a rumble of cheers from his coworkers. 

Through all the terrible and the hopeless, Spencer and y/n had found each other again. They had been given a second chance to get it right. 

This time around, he’ll never give her away again. 

He had already made that mistake once. 

Everything taglist: @calamitykaty @n0wornever @wanniiieeee @unnowhatthisistbh

Criminal Minds Taglist: 

@boimlers-gonna-boim @samsbirks @tinaasthings @dysphoricsanity @love4lando @elenamoncada-ibarra @r-3dlips @magstheslayer @astess  @sylvcaplath @tillypettitt @mordechaisworld @ssameadows

If your @ is crossed out, please, check your settings!

[norel-ravenclaw]

Aro/Ace Spec x Helluva Boss

Fandom: Helluva Boss

Featured characters: All x aro/ace spec reader

Rating: 18

Genre: FLUFFIEST OF FLUFF and aro/ace SOUL HEALING romance

Word count: 560

Description: Dating the Helluvas as an aro/ace. These are based on my personal experience, what friends and the internet have told me, and I tried to keep things generic and up to interpretation - whether you want to see it as 100% non sexual or otherwise is up to you.

WARNINGS: | gender neutral reader | suggestive content that can be interpreted in mutiple ways | language |

Blitzø -

It may be tough to break it to him, but at the end of the day, he knows he loves you, damn it, and he’ll make it work. He’s not the most romantic guy, so that works out if you aren’t either. All he knows is you’re the one who makes him feel like life is worth something.

Loona -

She definitely knew from the start, so it’s neither a surprise or a problem, she’s super chill about it. All she’s wondering is if you’d be okey with her using her vibe around you? Your relationship is pretty chill with no drama, as long as you know she’s sensitive and have her back, she’ll want you with her 24/7.

Moxie -

Your Prince Charming wouldn’t dream of doing anything to make you uncomfortable. All he wants is to see you happy and safe. Whatever you want, he’ll do it. Just let him be a little sappy every now and then, he has a romantic heart.

Millie -

When you grow closer, she’s quick to say ‘let’s fuck shit up instead of fucking’. She’s your ride or die no matter what your relationship looks like. Matching engraved guns? For sure.

Stolas -

You are everything to him, his salvation after years of trying to bury himself. Sure he has needs, but there are other ways of getting what he needs. Your love is constant and calm, he loves it.

Octavia -

AroAce alliance dream couple. Like bffs that have sleepovers forever and get married for tax purposes. Watch the stars together and hold hands, taking life at your own pace.

Asmodeus -

Ironic huh? But it’s a relief for him, honestly. There’s no pressure with you for sex or romantic performing. Of course he’d be the perfect one to take care of you if you have physical needs, knowing better than literally anyone alive what you actually want.

Fizzaroli -

He loves u bitch, no matter what you’re into or not. As long as you’re into him, you’re his lifeline and favourite person. He’d be so sweet and cuddly if you like. Garlic bread? Garlic bread.

Beelzebub -

Cotton candy and honey is all you need (and maybe weed and drinks). She just wants someone to party with forever (and cuddle, pls!)

Verosika -

A succubus and an ace? Unlikely as it seems, after having her heart broken and being used for so long, you’re freedom to her. You love her for her without asking anything more - and she’s not about to give you up for anything.

Vortex (wolf) -

He’s chill with you, which is such a break from his job of being on guard every second. The last of his walls come down and he can just let go - either being crazier or softer than he can with anyone else, matching your energy loyally.

Striker -

Partners in crime? Partners in crime. He’s a bastard, he’s a killer, he’s a cowboy, he’s unapologetic, and he’s yours. Would he like to fuck? Of course, but you get him focused on other things, like learning how to actually love. He’d do anything to not fuck this up.

[itsagrimm]

Dollhouse

Simon Riley X you

CN angst, patriarchy and effects on those who can have children, family planning (this is not a euphemism you dogs)

700 words

The idea came to me in a dream. Little short note so i won't forget.

Cover als always made by me. it's from Abhörstation, Berlin.

You woke up with an ache in your heart.

As always when your boyfriend went on deployment he had to leave early.

As always you got up to make coffee and chat as he packed his bags.

Did you get the socks from the laundry? No idea where your aftershave is. Take the green shirt. It suits you.

Sharing one last cup over breakfast together had become your tradition just like getting up together before his trips. Then that last kiss came before he left through the door.

Stay safe Simon. I miss you already. Come back quickly. I love you too.

The click of the lock closing behind him with painful finality.

Nothing ever prepared you for that part of your relationship when you were alone. You browsed through forums and group chats among military spouses, feeling empty and cheated that no one prepared you for the solitude of it. Or are you the only one not cut out for the waiting? About how much time of your life you spent on standby, waiting for Simon to get back and do all those tiny things and big plans with you? Are you doing this correctly?

Maybe I am not cut out for this – you mused as you looked over the space you shared with Simon; his seat now empty. The book he read yesterday right next to pots of plants you bought together on the windowsill. Photos of you and him in frames over the couch he lounged on last night. Memories frozen in time. Memories in waiting. Like you, sitting here waiting for him to come back and pick up where he left.

You never doubted him. Whatever happened while he was away never left you unloved, forgotten, replaced. But love is not the only thing that you needed. Him catching you in a searing kiss when he returned, carrying you back to the bedroom and feeding your lonely skin until it was plump and satisfied from caresses was never the problem. Simon was never the problem.

It was you. No amount of perfect love and devotion, of passion and desire could make up for you being alone despite your relationship. Standing alone at parties and nursing that one white wine spritzer. Going to family events. Dealing with life on your own and talking to yourself every evening about the day that you had.

Simon is away. Yes, I worry but he will be back soon. I am sure it will be alright.

Sometimes the guilt ate at you. His job was dangerous. He could get hurt. He could die. And yet here you were thinking about how hard your life was. How his life was spent in visible excitement with his buddies sharing a beer after a mission, his captain giving him a pat on the back, people asking him if he was fine. And you were kept in a state of continuous invisible anticipation for him to return to you, hopefully in one piece.

Besides, how many out there would love to live the life you had? Being a perfect little wife one day and dolling up for Simon with that military check paying for that shared life. Keeping a perfect little doll home for him to return to and play civil life for a bit. Being a perfect little single mum to the Riley-kids he would father with you only to never be around for them because of his job.

The thought made you gasp out in worry for the unborn children you weren’t even sure you wanted. Children with dark brown eyes. Children that would leave your fingers trembling from the tiring task of loving and worrying about them. Children that made you wonder where they were and if they would return to you in one piece as if that was not a concerning thought. Was this normal? Or another thing you were failing at?

God, you feared yet wished for that family so much. Hoping for Simon to return right now and asking him how he felt about starting on having kids this exact moment. But your rabbit heart new better and you froze as you reached for your phone, opting to send him “safe travels” instead.

Maybe one day you would grow brave enough to tell him all that. And hopefully he would be brave enough to listen.

[daisynik7]

“How Do I Breathe” by Mario for Eren Yeager - Angst

How Do I Breathe

Pairing: Eren Jaeger x reader (gender-neutral)

Word Count: ~0.9k

cw: angst, mentions of anxiety, depression, and panic attacks, established relationship, hurt/comfort, modern day setting

Summary: Eren makes a big decision to move overseas to Marley for a new job, away from all his friends, his family, and worst of all, you. He realizes the hard way that this might have not been the best decision for him. 

Author’s Notes: Thanks for the request for the y2k karaoke party, anon! This song is sad, perfect for some Eren angst! I dug deep for this, pulling from some personal experience I had with my partner not too long ago. Hope you like it! Likes, reblogs, and/comments are always appreciated, thank you for reading!

Eren stares up the ceiling, lying in the bed of his tiny studio apartment. The faucet drips slowly; he must’ve not shut it off all the way, causing it to leak. Every now and again, police sirens blare past, fading in the distance to whatever routine crime is happening a couple blocks down. By two in the morning, college kids return from their late-night parties, slurring their words loudly in the hallway, slamming their doors shut without any care for their neighbors. It doesn’t matter though; regardless of the surrounding commotion, Eren can’t sleep. 

It takes him one month to realize the vast differences between Marley and Paradis. It’s one thing to read about it in books or magazines, it’s another to experience it personally. Here, everything moves in fast forward, constantly in motion, no time to stop and smell the roses. Sometimes, he doesn’t have time to think, always pressured to make a rash decision. Work is the same; people always on the go, hasty to make deadlines. It’s even worse because it’s dog-eat-dog, no sense of teamwork or community, everyone trying to compete with each other for that raise or promotion. 

Life on Paradis was simple. Small towns, tight knit communities, the type of place where everyone knows everyone and you were never alone. Eren spent nearly his entire childhood glamorizing the world beyond the sea. He stayed in Paradis throughout college and when a job opportunity came to relocate to Marley, he didn’t hesitate to take it. When he made that decision, you were nervous about doing long-distance. “It’s only an hour away by plane, two hours by boat!” he claimed, excited. How could you deny him of this? The dream he had since he was a little kid? So, despite your concerns about it, you agreed to stay together. 

Two months in, you start noticing changes in his demeanor. His voice on the phone becomes more docile. His face during video chats looks tired, dark circles under his eyes, gauntness in his cheeks, as if he hasn’t been sleeping well. No matter how hard you try to pry it out of him, he’ll never admit that he’s starting to feel depressed, desperate to cling onto this dream of his. A dream that has gradually turned into a nightmare. 

Four months in, unable to sleep, mind racing, he grabs his phone, dialing your number, praying that you answer. The air is thick, making it difficult to breath, throat tight and chest heavy. After three rings, you pick up, your voice concerned. “Eren? Are you okay?”

Tears stream down his face, breathing labored, barely able to talk. “No, I’m not,” he manages to say.

You sit up in your bed, fully awake now, giving him your full attention. “Sweetie, breathe, okay? Just breathe for me.”

He sniffles, choking on his spit, trying his best to calm down. His fingertips are tingling now, body cold and rigid, heart racing wildly. He’s convinced he’s about to die, here in this dinky apartment. Alone.

“Eren, breathe with me. Please. Listen to me and do it with me, okay?” You inhale deeply through your nose, exhale slowly out your mouth, loud enough for him to hear. It takes him a bit to collect himself, but when he does, he copies you, pausing only a few times to wipe his face on his blanket. 

“Good job, baby. You’re doing great,” you encourage him, listening to him carefully.                      

It continues like this for several minutes, until his breathing returns to a normal pace. Eventually, he murmurs, “I can’t do it anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t want to be here anymore. Away from family. My friends. You.” He swallows hard, sinking into pillows. “I’m miserable. It’s nothing like what I imagined.”

Your heart sinks, tempted to say whatever you can to bring him back, bring him home. But you don’t. Instead, you say, “Give it more time. You can make friends there.”

He snorts. “The people here don’t want friends. They want allies. People they can use. You know how much I hate that.”

You remain silent, listening to him, unsure what else to say. 

He continues, breathing normally now. “I thought this is what I wanted. To be free, to explore my horizons, all that cliché bullshit. I thought the other side of the sea would bring me joy. But here, I’m so lonely. I miss you so much.” He pauses for a beat, eventually adding, “This place sucks.”

You laugh at his crassness, tears welling in your eyes. “I miss you too, Eren. It’s lonely without you here. It doesn’t feel like home anymore.”

He smiles into the phone, warmth returning to his body, wishing he was with you. Wishing he could hug you and kiss you and cuddle with you until he falls asleep peacefully in your arms. “I’m sorry for being a selfish idiot. I should have never left.”

“You’re not a selfish idiot,” you assure him. “It’s good that you tried it out. And who knows, maybe in another universe, you would have really loved Marley.”

He scoffs, rolling his eyes at the ridiculous idea. “I think in all possible universes, I would still hate Marley.”

You giggle, glad to hear him back to his normal self. 

Six months after his move to Marley, Eren returns home, safe and sound. 

[beautifulchris]

obsessed

pairing: dancer!lee minho x videographer!gn!reader

summary: minho was the most perfect guy you had the privilege of encountering—and working with. without even trying—or meaning to—, he got you wrapped around his fingers

genres: fluff, angst, strangers to lovers to exes!au, colleagues!au, first person pov!!

wc: 4,4k

tw: obsession, toxic relationship, swearing (in lyrics only, who would've thought), violence, injuries, mention of blood

notes: heyyy! this fic is part of my collection of fics! indented are the lyrics, banner made by me on canva. andddd i'd appreaciate it greatly if you could tell me what you thought about it!! happy reading!

listen to the song for a more immersive experience: spotify link | youtube link

networks: @kflixnet @k-labels @kwritersworld @whipped-kpop-creators @straykidsland

permanent tag list: @soobin-chois @exfolitae @linos-catnip @prettymiye0n (tell me if you want to be added/removed)

stray kids tag list: @raethethey

Lee Minho (1998).

Have you seen this man?

Perfect skin, heart face shape, a sharp nose, wide cheekbones, cat-like eyes, long eyelashes and pretty, pouty lips.

The moment I laid eyes on him, I knew it was over. He was just so attractive, always walking like he owned the place, and, without realizing it, I became infatuated with him.

I was a newbie videographer in this dancing company called Twinkle Toes. Yes, I did apply there because of its name, being an ATLA fan and all. Anyway, Minho was the best dancer they had.

The obsession started when I first saw him dance. His technique and control were perfect, I could clearly see why he was a professional dancer. All the fluid and effortlessly looking movements he made gave me goosebumps every time I was behind the camera. Or anywhere inside the room, really.

I approached him first. Complimented him on his dancing, which seemed to please him. I kept being supportive and throwing seductive glances his way every now and then. I became hungry for his attention.

Oh, my Lord, never met someone like you before Think I'm kinda going overboard Now I'm obsessed, how can somebody be so perfect? Boy, you really got me by the neck Whatever you want, you just gotta ask

I made no secret of my admiration. Soon, everybody knew but I couldn’t care less.

“You’re so strong, Minho,” I mused from behind the camera. “Thanks to your efforts, the video will come out perfectly.”

He failed to suppress a smile, yet dismissed the compliment with a vague movement of his hand. “It’s a team effort.”

Of course, I knew that. Yeah. The fourteen other dancers were good, but none of them were in the same league as Minho. He was above everyone in this company.

I was usually right.

After filming ended, I took my stuff—camera, tripod, laptop—and walked towards my designated studio where I could work on editing. I wasn’t totally installed when someone knocked on the door. It was so faint I thought I’d dreamed it, until they knocked again.

I opened the door, revealing a shy looking Minho, who didn’t seem to be able to meet my eyes. I found it adorable.

“Yes?”

“Uh, I… Can I come in?”

Now, why would he even want to come inside? Was my flirting so powerful that he already wanted to spend more time with me? I wasn’t one to complain about that.

“Sure,” I said, taking a step back and closing the door behind him.

“So that’s what your studio looks like,” he commented, looking around.

It was a small room with a large desk filled with everything I needed to do my job. The stuff I had with me in the danceroom plus a computer, lenses, microphones, cables, memory cards… Everything was perfectly organized. Bigger equipment—camera bags, studio light, reflectors, tripods—were tidied next to the desk. A gaming chair was in front of it, and on the other side was a two-seater sofa.

“Do you mind if I stay with you while you work?”

I smiled internally. It was so easy.

“No, of course. Are you done for the day?”

“Yeah, finally. Thanks.”

“What for?”

“For letting me stay with you.”

SCREAMING. PUNCHING THE WALL. I could’ve smacked his arm right now for saying this so casually. Sure enough, I didn’t. Instead, I motioned for him to sit on the sofa while I placed my laptop on the desk before opening it.

I could tell I was professional with how well I handled the situation I was in. I kept my desire to turn around and stare at him buried inside me as I edited the video. I had a week to finalize it for an upcoming dancing contest. I was determined to show the dancers’ best side through the video. I also tried not to show Minho too much, even though he was around 20% more present than the rest. It wasn’t my fault the videos he was in were better.

Oh, well. It was common knowledge he was our best hope at winning.

It was getting late, and I was feeling hungry. I saved my progress, switched off the computers and turned around. I’d imagined Minho to be fast asleep, as my job could be found boring from the outside. To my surprise, he was looking straight at me.

“Are you OK?” I asked, conscious he had been waiting for a long time.

See, I checked the time before closing my laptop. I had been working for a bit more than two hours.

He nodded. “Are you, though? Don’t you feel sore?”

Now that he mentioned it, I couldn’t feel my butt anymore. A common occurrence in this field. I got up, stretched arms, back, legs and unintentionally yawned.

“Do you want to get dinner?”

He seemed nervous all of a sudden. Ah, if I could make him mine right now…

“Only if you pay.”

“Deal.”

Ten minutes later, we were walking side-by-side toward a little restaurant owned by a strict-looking yet lovely grandma near our workplace. We’d eaten there before, with our coworkers.

As a typical small-business Korean restaurant, the room was approximately ten times bigger than my studio. Twelve four-seater tables were placed around the room at a relatively safe distance from each other. On every one of them were a wooden cutlery holder for four, and a matching little box full of thin napkins. The walnut-colored counter was on the far end of the room, and the hole that was supposed to be a door behind it led to the kitchen. The only thing giving a bit of privacy to the cook were white lace curtains attached to each side of the… door-shaped hole. On the left side of the room, a TV screen and posters—with pictures—of the menu were displayed on the wall. While on the right side, as well as a bathroom door, were decorations and an ‘appreciation wall’ with a lot of little notes and doodles from customers.

I wanted to sit next to it. If we ran out of things to say, we could always talk about that.

Grandma greeted us with a smile when she saw us, showing us to a table on the opposite side. “Hello grandma, can we actually sit at that one? It’s easier to watch TV there.”

Of course, I had no intention to watch TV, but no one needed to know that.

“Sure, my child, go sit. I’ll be right there.”

Thanking her, we sat right next to the rating wall.

There was one other customer closest to the counter. A regular, by the looks of it. Grandma went to the kitchen and came back with a steaming dish. She delicately put it down in front of the man before providing us with the menus. He thanked her and resumed his reading of a journal. Which I couldn’t identify because I don’t read journals.

Minho and I looked at the menu like we had no idea what to order. While I already knew what his favorite dish was, I opted for something I hadn’t tried before. You see, I like to try everything on the menu. It was a habit in restaurants I often went to. Of course, if it were to be a one-time restaurant, I would order the food that makes me salivate the most. Minho preferred savory foods. The tastier, the better.

He rapidly scanned the plastified paper on the table before looking up at me. “I’ve chosen. You?”

I straightened up, flashing my signature grin, and nodded once. “Same. Any drinks?”

“Soju?”

“Sure.”

Three young people entered the place. Grandma placed them on the left side of the room and came to us. “What would you like, my children?”

“Bulgogi bibimbap for me, please.”

“Jajangmyeon and a bottle of soju, please,” Minho ordered, taking the menu from me and giving them both back to grandma with a sweet smile.

She smiled like a lovely grandma would—contently with a hint of nostalgia.

We never got to speak about the appreciation wall nor did I once glanced at the TV, because we talked a lot and there were few moments of silence.

After that dinner, we spent a lot of time together outside the company. I believed he enjoyed my presence as much as I savored his. We flirted, went on dates every now and then, and recently started dating.

Then, around two months after our first day together, a new, talented dancer entered the company. Her body had beautiful curves. She had long, black silky hair, and toned abs. It didn’t help that she was gorgeous, social, and easygoing.

In just a few days, she had befriended the whole building. It felt like she had always been there. To my dismay, even Minho seemed to like her.

“What do you think of Soojin?” I asked as casually as manageable, considering I was eager to get an answer.

“She’s cool.” Minho shrugged, looking up at the blue sky. “And a good dancer. Why do you ask?”

How he could manage to look so ethereal under the sunlight yet give me such a soft glance was beyond my understanding. He got a hold on me, that was for sure.

“I agree, she’s good. You might have to share your spotlight in the next competitions and projects.”

He smirked. “Was about time. It’s been lonely up there.”

I knew he was joking. He never considered himself as above his colleagues. I frowned for another reason. I couldn’t ignore the thought from overwhelming me. Was I not enough for him? Was I just a pastime? I wasn’t a dancer. Was it a dealbreaker for him? 

Minho’s gentle glance became a concerned stare as he stopped in his tracks. “What’s wrong?”

“Do you like me?”

He opened his mouth, but I couldn’t wait for his response.

“Am I good enough? Do you like Soojin more? Do you want to date her? Are you just playing with me?”

Because I would still be wrapped around your finger either way.

“Hey, breathe, babe. I’m here, I’m with you.”

I did as told, and my next words came out as a whisper.

“Are you though?”

“Where is all this coming from? Why would I be interested in Soojin?”

“She’s gorgeous, talented, and a sweetheart. Who wouldn’t like her?”

He smiled softly, taking my hand in his. “Is this your way of telling me you’re interested in her?”

“I’m serious.”

“You have nothing to worry about. I like you.”

I wanted to believe him, but I couldn’t get rid of the voices.

Soojin and Minho were the jewels of the company. Meaning they had way more screen time—which was my job—and training sessions together—which was their job. I had to stand behind my camera for hours while watching them dance together. Helplessly watching their bodies touch and their breaths tangle. The sensual moves made me want to break something.

Jealousy stirred up inside me, and I think it showed, because several colleagues around the room sent me looks of pity and sorry.

I knew it was just the job for Minho, but I couldn’t help it. It was beyond my control. Ever since the choreographers created this dance, I have been vile to Minho. Exposing my jealousy to him in private.

“I’m sorry, sweetie. I hate hurting you. Really. However, I can’t simply stop dancing. It’s my dream life.”

“I’m not asking you to stop doing what you love, I’m asking you to stop doing it with her!” I snapped.

“Doing that will get me fired, you know that. I told you I picture you whenever I’m dancing with her. Is it not enough?”

He was pleading, but I could sense he was tired and frustrated.

“I like you, not Soojin. I need you to understand that.”

“You say that now,” I said in a low voice, “but I see the way she looks at you.” My voice broke, and I looked away.

Minho shook his head. “Please, stop. I’m exhausted. I’m dating you, aren’t I? What more do you need to be satisfied?”

It stinged. The worst part was he didn’t scream. His voice was stern and accusing. No words would leave my lips. He took my silence as a cue to leave the toxic environment I created. I couldn’t blame him for wanting to stay away.

But I could blame someone else.

I tried to film Soojin in her less good angle, but it felt like she was flawless under any angle. It was frustrating, not even being able to compromise her while doing my job.

Minho, being smart and all, realized what I was trying to do while Soojin was doing a solo dance. His eyes were glued to me the whole time. He grabbed me by the arm the minute I finished for the day and brought all my stuff back to my studio. He made me turn around to face him.

“What did you do back there?”

I was hurt by his suspicion, even though he was right. I stood my ground and lied through my teeth. “I didn’t do anything.”

He sighed in exasperation and let go of me. “Look, I won’t say I know you because clearly, as much as I thought I did, I actually don’t. But I know you did something.” His face softened, but his lips stayed pressed in a thin line. “Please, help me understand. Why would you resent Soojin so much you’re willing to risk your job? What do I ignore?”

I was angry. Why would he defend her if nothing was happening between the two?

“Why do you care so much, Minho? Who is she to you?”

He stepped back, blinking a few times. “This again? I don’t recognize you anymore, Y/N. I thought I knew you. Since Soojin joined our crew, you’ve changed. I believe I didn’t give you any reason to be jealous of her, excluding my job. Then again, I know how to separate professional and personal matters. I chose not to where you’re concerned because I liked you. But now, I don’t think I want to do this any longer. It’s draining me, and I lost my will to fight for us.”

Wait. What?

“Are you breaking up with me? Is that it?” I sounded frantic—and I was. All I understood from his tirade was that he was leaving me, probably for her. This bitch. She dared steal my boyfriend.

“All these past weeks fighting made me reconsider our relationship. I’m sorry, Y/N. I like you, but I can’t be with you.”

He silently stared at me for a moment, hurt and determination visible on his face, before turning heels and heading out.

My legs gave out. Minho broke up with me. I had no intention to accept this. It was all this woman’s fault. She had bewitched him, I was sure of it.

When I ran into Minho the next day, he avoided looking me in the eyes. Everybody could see something was wrong. They could even sense it, as the tension was thick in the air.

“Is something wrong?” Soojin asked as she entered the room. She looked around the room and offered me a sweet and innocent smile.

I wanted to lunge at her. It took everything in me to stand still.

“Let’s get started,” the director said as soon as his left foot touched the floor. He clapped his hands, getting everyone’s attention. He stopped at the center of the room. “Today we’re going to film a two-minute promotional video for our project. I count on you, Y/N, to make this video as appealing as all the other ones you made until now.” He winked at me. “Dancers, I expect you to be in good shape. I need you to accentuate your moves.” This time, he winked at Minho and Soojin.

I was close to rip my hair out.

We did as told. While the dancers gave their all in their dancing, I moved around them with my camera to capture their moves from different angles, creating a nice flow. Nowadays, videographers would use a gimbal to provide support and stabilization, but my camescope and feet were all I needed. This type of work called for a more natural flow, which could only be done without any device.

I knew how to be professional, too, but hated every second I spent filming the top dancers sensually touching each other’s bodies, especially from this close. The looks they gave one another, were they really only professional? I wasn’t sure Minho had ever looked at me like he was staring at Soojin at this moment.

I decided to put aside my anger for the sake of my job, and made the best promotional video yet. Not that I would ever admit it, but their chemistry was undeniable and greatly increased the quality of the video.

Slowly, but surely, I watched Minho and Soojin grow closer. I tried multiple times to reconnect with him to prevent the inevitable, but he was unyielding. He wouldn’t let me touch him and refused to be in a room alone with me. I found his reactions a bit over the top and insulting. But, even worse, he seemed to be protective of Soojin, as if he was scared I would hurt her if he let her out of his sight.

I would, but it was still vexing.

If you go and get yourself somebody new I don't know what the hell I'd do But if I found out, I will go and turn up at her house Break a nail and rip her hair right out Huh, and I hope you like that I'm crazy like that

Life went on, Minho still got me by the neck unbeknownst to him, and I was still wary of Soojin. A month had passed and a new project started.

“This time, crew, the theme is love. I want to feel it, alright? Do whatever it takes. I’m not worried though, because I believe in you all.”

The little speech the director gave ended up with a round of applause and a whistle from several of the dancers. The choreographers were sending each other smirks, as if they were waiting for this moment. I, obviously, loathed the idea. I had barely managed to contain myself this past month. That was going to be torture.

I was right.

The first official practice for the dance, a week after the announcement, I was behind the camera. If I thought they were close during the past month, I was mistaken. For the most part, their bodies were colliding with each other in a way that made the young managers embarrassed. My blood boiled. If there weren’t all these people around, I would’ve ripped Soojin’s hair out already.

When the song ended, their faces were mere millimeters from one another. They closed the gap between their mouths. I heard a few gasps from the crowd. My eyes lost focus. The fury building inside me sent a throbbing pain in my head. I left the room in a hurry before I could regret my actions. The last thing I saw in the long mirrors were their lips connected in a heated kiss.

I wanted to throw up. I ran to the restroom and sat on the ground in one of the cabins. I touched my cheeks with the back of my hands to check my temperature and realized I was crying. I couldn’t possibly be sad, could I? I stayed seated for what felt like hours, developing a plan to get revenge on Soojin. I was not going to let her go unscathed after what she had done.

The pain eventually subsided. Rage was all that was left in me. I was determined to make the bitch pay. I checked myself in the mirror, relieved to see there was no trace of me crying, and nodded to myself to give me courage. I came back to the dance room like nothing happened. Everybody stopped moving and watched me walk to my camera.

“Sorry, I had an emergency,” I told no one in particular, shooting an apologetic smile around the room. “Please, continue.”

I changed a few parameters on the camera and the room came back to life.

I was one of the first ones to leave the room. I stored my stuff in their respective places. Minho was waiting for me when I walked out of my studio.

“Y/N, I’m sorry—-It just happened—”

I scoffed. “Whatever.”

I'll do anything for you, boy, anything Yeah, I'll do anything, anything for you Yeah, I'll do crazy shit And I'll get away with it Boy, I'll do anything, anything for you

I raced to my car and waited there until Soojin entered her own car. I watched Minho go to her window and talk to her when she rolled it down. She nodded and smiled at him. Sickening. He went to his own car and I followed Soojin when she exited the parking lot. I stayed at a safe distance, but what if Minho knew what I had in mind and warned her?

I shook my head. It didn’t matter. She drove around fifteen minutes and parked in front of what looked like a family house. Was it her own place or did she come to her parents thinking I wouldn’t dare touch her there?

I smiled conspiratorially. None of them really knew me. I parked right behind her and stormed out of my car. I stopped at her window like Minho had done earlier and waited for her to roll it down. She stared at me with fear in her eyes and gulped.

I put on a fake smile and my sweetest voice. “Come on out, Soojin, don’t be scared.”

She slowly reached for the handle and opened the door.

“Look, I’m sor—”

I grabbed her by the neck and threw her on the asphalt. She grunted and rolled over. I pulled her hair up and ignored her faint struggle, whispering in her ear. “You really thought you could steal my boyfriend from me and get away with it?” I let out a nasty laugh.

She shuddered, tears welling up in her eyes. “You’re not together anymore,” she cried. “I’m sorry for hurting you. I didn’t mean to, I swear.”

“You’re too cute. I guess that’s your advantage.”

I pulled her hair a little higher and balled my other hand into a fist. I moved my arm back to gain momentum, but never got to use it. Minho shouted my name from his car, parked right behind mine. I let go of Soojin and watched him dash towards us.

“What’s happening?”

He kneeled next to her, checking her face and scratched arms. She cried, burying her face in his chest and wrapping her arms around his stomach. I huffed and folded my arms over my chest. The second she calmed down, Minho got up and faced me. He frowned.

“What did you do?” His tone was accusing. It angered me.

“Are you for real? How could you get over me that easily? Was I nothing to you?”

“Y/N,” he warned, pinching his nose bridge. Then he gave me a firm stare. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I never meant to. I just assumed you got over it the way I did.” His voice matched the look on his face.

Got over it? Oh, boy.

“I guess I loved you more than you ever did me.”

His surprised expression made no sense to me. He did not comment on it. Instead, he reached for Soojin’s hand and helped her up. “I’ll get you home,” he said softly.

He used to talk to me like that. Take care of me like that. My blood boiled but I just watched, feeling abandoned, as they walked away from me.

When he returned, a few minutes later, I was waiting, my back pressed against the driver’s side door of my car. “What was that about?” he inquired, stopping around three meters away from me, arms crossed over his chest.

“I’ll do anything for you, Minho. Anything. And I got angry at the way she snatched you from me.”

He stepped back, dropping his arms at his sides. “What do you mean, anything?”

“Literally anything.”

“But, Y/N, we broke up. You don’t have to. Besides, she didn’t snatch me, I fell for her.” My heart hurt. Did he really stop loving me that easily? “I’m sorry. Really, I am. I can’t undone our history, nor can I control my feelings.”

“You would undone our history if you could?” That was what hurt the most, I think. That, right there. He regretted being with me.

“No, but what you did today… I’m not sure I can forgive you. You scared Soojin, you scared me. If I knew you would be like this, I—”

“Don’t finish that sentence, please.”

Minho sighed. “I enjoyed being with you, Y/N, honestly. However, that was too much. I won’t ask you to quit your job, but can you please, leave Soojin and I alone? I feel like a dick asking you, especially since you’ll have to watch us a lot, and I also don’t want to quit this amazing company.”

“I’ll do it,” I breathed. A single tear ran down my face. “I’ll quit. I can’t stand by and watch you both all lovey-dovey. And I don’t want to hurt you. I’m sorry.”

It was my fault. I planted the seed of desire in Minho’s head, and my jealousy nourished it. The plant grew and he fell in love with her. I should've known. He never explicitly told me he loved me.

Minho reached for me and for a second, I was tempted to just let him, but that would've been wrong. I wasn’t sure I could leave if he showed me affection. I turned around and hopped in my car.

“Have a good life,” were my last words to my beautiful ex boyfriend before I took off.

The next day, I gave my resignation letter to my boss, and apologized a ton for leaving so suddenly. I pretended to have an urgent family matter hundreds of kilometers away, and moved out during the week. I wanted to put as much distance between Minho and me as possible to help me forget about him. It wasn’t an easy feat. But I moved into a small apartment in another city, got a job in a dancing company named “Encore Dance” and resumed my life.

There, I met a man so pretty I could cry.

Hwang Hyunjin.

Have you seen this man?

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