#they're obviously yearning for it too | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

petrichoravery · 12 days ago

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But you peeked right over somehow | s.r

summery: your disbelief in love has always held you back from a relationship with Spencer, but you think it's time to be brave now.

word count: 2k

warnings: reader is avoidant and makes some weird decisions, but, like, be nice to her please, she's scared; mentions of avoidant attachment style, toxic relationships (someone having made r feel stupid and worthless in the past) and of parents fighting, but nothing detailed; reader is also mentioned to be drunk once, but it’s in past tense and it’s really just the word mentioned. English is not my first language.

a/n: the pictures are obviously no indication of how reader looks, they are just there to make this all look pretty and aesthetically pleasing. I've tried my best not to describe any physical appearance of reader. reader means a lot to me, I hope you’ll like her. Also, the gorgeous!! dividers are not mine, all credits to @/enchanthings-a on tumblr. The title is from 'circling' by tiny habits

You didn't believe in love—not the one in the movies, anyway. Your sad attempts at it have always ended with you feeling lonelier than before and your parents… well, let's just say they're not the best example either. So you built the walls higher and higher, placing brick upon brick, so no one would be able to look over them.

Until you met Spencer.

He has nested himself between the bricks like wisteria and has been so impossibly stubborn, but so kind about it, too. Never asking for more than the few fleeting moments you had. To the point were you weren't even sure if you wanted to rid yourself of him anymore.

You had met him at a reading of your favourite book a few years ago. You had forgotten your book on your seat and he had ran out and handed it back to you, a white piece of paper with messy handwriting in black ink slipped in between the pages. I like your taste in books, maybe you could recommend me some:). it had said, with his number on the bottom.

You had been friends for a while after that, because you always blocked his attempts of turning what you had into more.

Until one drunken mistake on your side turned into two and the two of you decided that: friends kiss, right? (Well, you decided it, Spencer was just happy to go along with whatever you were most comfortable with.)

For a while you convinced yourself that whatever you were feeling—the butterflies in your stomach, the way your heart was racing every time he touched you—was just lust. It was easier than admitting that you were falling hopelessly in love with him.

So when you woke up this morning, in your bed with him sleeping next to you, you couldn't help but watch him. The way the soft morning light, shining through the silk curtains, drew shapes onto his skin, the way his brown curls framed his face. You just hardly resisted the urge to reach out and touch him, your hand curling into a fist so hard that your nails dug half-moon shapes into your palm.

You got up after a few moments. Quietly, so you wouldn’t wake him. He landed in Virginia late after a case, but still decided to come over to your apartment, because he had forgotten something there. You ended up, self-sabotagingly, inviting him to stay the night and now you were here; with an angel in your bed and a devil on your shoulder.

You tip-toed into your kitchen, finally being able to breathe a little louder. Leaning onto the counter, hanging your head, you felt pathetic. This wasn't how things go for you, normally. You didn't pine and, even worse, yearn (you gagged at just the thought) for men like you were right now.

Then again, Spencer was far from normal.

And because of that, your heart was racing and you caught yourself, more often than not, at the bookstore in the classic section, asking yourself if Spencer had that copy of war and peace already. He probably did.

You scoff at yourself. Maybe you just needed to go to the club again. Cleanse yourself of this feeling. Forget about him and his stupid brown eyes, the way his hands feel when they— Stop.

"Are you okay?" A sleepy voice asks from the doorway.

You turn slowly. Spencer was still in his oversized gray sleep shirt, the fabric worn-out and thin. His hair a mess of brown, soft curls. God, get it together.

"Yeah," you mumble, "just…headaches."

He steps closer, careful, as if not to startle you. "Do you need anything? Ibuprofen?"

"No, I'm okay. Thank you."

He nods, but his eyes search your face. It’s clear that he knows something is off—he's a profiler, after all. He smoothes his hand over your wooden counter top and you wish so badly that those calloused hands were running over your skin instead.

"Breakfast?" You croak, already turning around and rummaging the cabinets for two mugs.

A hand finds your wrist, turning you around with a gentleness you're not sure you deserve. You pull away quickly, as if his touch burned you.

He frowns a little, but doesn't comment on it. "I'd love breakfast," he pauses, "Can you talk to me? Please?"

His idiotically big puppy-dog eyes and the way his hand feels on your skin makes you want to kiss him stupid.

So you do, impulsively. Kissing him was so much better than answering his questions and he might forget, as a good side affect—

Spencer pushed against your shoulders gently, untangling your lips from another after indulging for a short second—he was just a man, after all.

He knew that you were only kissing him to distract from the topic at hand and he also knew, that he would forget about this conversation too quickly if he let you.

"Not that I don't love kissing you, but something is bothering you and I want to understand what it is. So can you please talk to me?"

"About what?" You try and he looks at you, disbelieving.

"Come on—" he says your name, and it's so soft, "You've always been careful with the idea of an relationship with me, but it's been getting worse. You tense up every time I touch you and tip-toe around me. I just want to know if I did something to upset you. I want to fix it."

Your skin is crawling with his rejection of the kiss and you can't help the words of defensiveness bursting out of you. "You can't always fix everything, Spencer. I'm not just another case to solve."

Spencer doesn’t even flinch. "I know you're not. I'm sorry, my wording was off. I know something happened to you in the past and you need it slow and that's okay. I never pushed and I'm not pushing right now, but I want to understand what it is, what's going on in your head."

He was being so, so kind. You felt like crying. "Nothing! Nothing is going on in my head, just—" You feel like an animal in a cage, ready to chew off your foot to get out of the trap.

Spencer lets his hands drop from your shoulder to his side again, knowing you well enough to know that touch may not be comforting to you right now.

The gesture grounds you, reminds you that you are talking to kind, gentle Spencer, that he is only worried about you. So you try to reel back, trying your best to be just as kind, to be deserving of him. But you're a viper full of venom and you're sure you might never be able to purge it from your body enough to ever deserve him.

"I'm sorry." You whisper, looking down at your miss-matched socks.

"It's okay. I understand." He's not sure what to do. An aggressive UnSub was nothing in comparison to you being uncomfortable and him being unable to help. "We don't have to talk about it. We can eat breakfast and I'll tell you about the stars again."

His lips quirk a little as you laugh, even if it was just the smallest sound, it was something.

"No, it's okay. I—" You have been knocking on Spencer's door and running away before he could welcome you in for too long. You have decided that you're ready to pass the doorstep now.

Your therapist has advised you to get out of comfort zone more, anyway, and if Spencer leaves after this conversation, at least you can go back to not believing in love. "I figured I had to tell you at some point. If I really wanted this to be a thing."

You gesture between the two of you at the last part, voice dropping to a quieter tone and you look up at him though your lashes without lifting your head.

He looks surprised. That's okay. You'll just laugh and pretend it was a joke—

"Yeah," he steps closer, brushing hair out of your face, "if that's what you want. I’m not forcing you to."

"I know you're not." You sigh, closing your eyes as his fingertips brush against your jaw. "Truth is, nothing really happened. I guess I've just had rotten luck in love."

The hair tie you're wearing on your wrist is suddenly so interesting and you chew on your lip to have something to do with your mouth, otherwise you'd just blurt out everything he wants to know.

"My parents have been fighting more than they haven't since I've been really young. Nothing too bad, but it was obvious that they weren't in love. I doubt they ever were."

Spencer doesn't say anything, choosing to let you finish without comment. He knows what's coming, he's been through it, too. Parents who fight, relationships that fail, never feeling loved in the way the movies show you. It can make you feel hopeless.

"I was a late bloomer, I guess. I've had my first relationship at twenty-two. Not that I cared, I had convinced myself that I didn't want love at that point, anyway. So when I did find it… I was elated. I thought, yes! finally it's my turn. Well, they hurt me quite badly, made me feel bad for everything that I didn't know, like—like they were better than me. Maybe they were, I don't know, it doesn't matter."

Ouch. Spencer thought. No one deserves that. Much less you. His hands find your wrist again and his thumb slides over your pulse point.

"They're not." He says with so much conviction that you have no choice but to believe him. "Someone who makes people feel bad for trying to learn things is not, in any way, better than the person who is trying."

You shake your head. "No, it's okay. I— yeah. It's whatever. It just hurt in that moment."

You do that a lot, Spencer notes, pushing your feelings onto your past-self like they don't affect you now, when he knows they do. Or else you wouldn't be here.

"I did go on a few date after that," you continue after a short pause, "but I kept myself locked away pretty tightly. Never let it go further than the third date. A few years later, when I let someone else in, it got quite toxic, quite quickly. From both sides. We were dependent and avoidant at the same time. They were just…they showed me off a lot and were so gentle and kind, but I realised after a while that it was just their way of making sure I stayed. And I…I started feeling trapped and accused them of some pretty messed up stuff. We didn't make it really far after that."

Tears start building on your lash line and you look at the ceiling, begging them to stay buried. That was your tell, Spencer knew it too well. He brushed his thumb under your eyes.

"You don't have to." He murmurs.

"I'm almost done." You promise and look at him for the first time since you started the story. "I didn't have any serious relationships after that, just…harmless flirting, but I was too scared to let myself fall again. I never felt loved enough, I guess…or I was just selfish and greedy."

Spencer shakes his head. "You deserve the love you want." Ducking his head, he makes sure you're looking at him. "That's not selfish."

"I think I did." You whisper with the shyness of a high-school kid, eyes searching between his. "Find it, I mean."

The corners of Spencer's mouth lift into his wonderful smile and for once in your life you know you've said the right thing.

"Lucky me." He answers, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, pulling you against him gently.

"Yeah. Lucky." You breathe out, wrapping your arms around his waist. It was clear that you don't quite know just how lucky someone must be to have you in their life and Spencer was going to work hard to make you will.

You bury your face into his shoulder, breathing in his scent. "Thank you." You whisper.

"Don't thank me yet." He chuckles softly, his warm breath tickling the top of your head. You melt into him at his words, as if his stupid joke had a magical soothing effect. Of course you'd thank him. You won't stop thanking him for being him until you were six feet under.

"I'm sorry for snapping. I just—"

"Don't. It's okay. You don't need to explain yourself to me." He says, earnestly, into your hair.

"I know I don't. It wasn't fair of me, though."

"Maybe. But better unfair and raw, than fair and polished. I want you, un-performing."

You sigh into his shoulder and try not to cry in gratitude.

Being open was hard when you've been burnt for it before and you knew there was much to overcome, but you didn't doubt one bit, that you could overcome every hurdle with the help of Spencer. Step by step growing on your walls together. Wisteria and ivy.

a/n: please don't hesitate to send me your thoughts and show support by re-blogging, commenting and liking if you liked the fic!!

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heartsfromia · 2 months ago

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critical inquiry — l. jihoon

pairing: non-idol! jihoon x reader

word count: 6,018

genre: fluff, workplace romance, reader isnt tech-savvy, jihoon kinda gives loser (endearing) energy

warnings: valorant (jk), profanities, proofreader? i hardly know her

author's notes: get me an IT guy like jihoon y'all, also idk i struggle when writing in mainly the guy's pov bro i cannot think like a man, can they be pathetic, yearning beings? idk bro

Lee Jihoon loved one thing about his job—working from home. With enough people in his team to cover tasks both from the office and at home, they're given the option to work either and Jihoon always picks home, time after time.

Until today, when Jihoon had received a message that his Work-From-Office buddy would be taking time off work for the next week because his grandfather fell ill, and he was asked to go back home for the time being.

“Only a week, Jihoon, and I swear you can go back to your PC set and slippers,” Wonwoo had reassured him, but it still wasn’t enough, “I’ll even help you rank up to Ascendant 3.”

So, that was how Jihoon found himself waking up at seven and taking public transportation to the office because his car was at his parent’s, and honestly, he wasn’t close with anyone to the point where he’d ask for a lift.

During the entire trip on his first day back to the office, he cursed the corporate slave routine. To think that before social distancing, that we would wake up at the crack of dawn to beat traffic or the commuter rush, go to a job that we’re not even sure we enjoy (spoiler: we don’t), and then have to go through that same rush and traffic when going home, only to sleep and reset the routine for the next day. As an IT support member, being in the office was the most useless and time-consuming thing. The Wi-Fi at his office is crap, the computers are old and laggy because the company doesn’t want to invest in better quality technology, and the team leaders are always breathing down your neck—but, hey, at least they compensate those that choose to come to the office.

One thing that Jihoon was grateful from the pandemic was the normalization of working from home. Having the option to attend the 10AM meeting, waking up at exactly 9:50 AM—clocking in—then joining the Zoom meeting without having to shower, change out of your pajamas, or even get out of the bed was something that was too good to be true. Alas, it happened, and he had been thriving and taking advantage of his Work From Anywhere policy in his company. Granted, he is only able to continuously work from home as long as there were two team members working from office, and luckily enough, that condition was met for the past six months

“This is new,” Hansol quipped when he spotted Jihoon signing at the entrance of the office. “Ah, Wonwoo is taking time off, right?”

“Yeah,” Jihoon muttered, most of his face hidden under a mask and cap, with his eyes peeking through the lenses of his glasses. “Do you think there’s coffee in the kitchen?”

“Obviously,” Hansol chuckles, finding the question obsurd. Can you blame Jihoon? The ceiling in the entrance of the building is almost falling apart from mold forming because of rain, and their computer to clock in was an old ASUS model from 2014 that can only function on a LAN cable—which is why its only purpose in this marketing agency was for signing in.

Sometimes Jihoon even wonders how the company can last for the past decade with its cheap ways.

He made his way to the second floor where the pantry, and overall kitchen was placed, making himself a cup of coffee before climbing the next step of stairs to the IT room—the main base for programmers and the support team. Another thing he hated about working from the office was the fact that the AC in his office just never seems to function. It’s the middle of summer, the city is going through a massive heatwave, and here, in his company placed in the smack middle of the city, they have a policy to not let the AC go anywhere under 23°C.

At least, when he is in the comforts of his own home, he can have the AC go as low as it can get, all while still in his pajamas, and could even multitask with Valorant opened in another tab.

“Oh, Jihoon, you’re switching with Wonwoo, right?” Jeonghan asked, turning in his chair and pushing his glasses up above his head.

“Yeah, I am, where does he usually sit?” Jeonghan taps the desk on his left, and watched as Jihoon got settled, a glint in his eyes that the younger one spotted. “What?”

“Did Wonwoo tell you anything?”

“Other than keeping my Google chat opened, nothing really,” he responded.

“You’ll be handling his division, too, right?” Jihoon nodded. “The Marketing team.” Rather than a question, Jeonghan confirmed the division, and once again, Jihoon nodded. A crease formed between his eyebrows, unsure of what his senior was referring to, and the latter noticed, chuckling at his puzzled expression. “You’ll see.”

It’s too early to understand what he means. Usually, he’d still be asleep right now if he were at home, especially since there aren’t any meetings he needs to attend today, he could’ve slept until three minutes before he required to clock in. He wasn’t use to having to be on work-mode even with ten minutes before his shift officially starts.

God, I miss working from home.

The first few hours into the shift was tedious. Since the company is a small PR agency, as a member of the in-house IT team, he’s required to wear multiple hats and take on various tasks. Unfortunately, since he is replacing Wonwoo for the time being, he’ll be taking on the task of Website management and ensuring that the Marketing team didn’t have any issues, as well as any technical issues the team might face, which is inevitable as their equipment is, as mentioned, crap quality. Every day Jihoon wonders why he claims to resign from the place but never does.

“Let’s grab lunch across the street,” Jeonghan invited Jihoon once the clock had struck twelve, signaling lunch time for all employees. Jihoon was about to agree and turn his computer to sleep mode when a ding! notified a message had come in. He rose a hand, indicating for his senior to wait a moment as he checked the message. He hadn’t received any complaints during the first half of the day from the team he was in charge of so this was a bit unusually for him.

It was a message from you.

Y/N: Afternoon, Jihoon. This is Y/N, and I’m new from Saerom’s team. Y/N: I was told by Wonwoo that he’s currently on PTA, and to message you instead. I have an issue with my Google Analytics account, I’m currently logged out and usually Wonwoo helps me with that because I haven’t been given my password (it’s been two weeks I’ve started 😅). Y/N: Can you help me with this?

“Who’s that?” Jeonghan ducked down, looking over Jihoon’s shoulder as he read the message, then a chuckle left his lips. “Ah… it’s Y/N, she’s a new, and struggles with a lot of the tech things—you’ll be meeting with her a lot.”

“She’s bad with tech and chose to be a social media specialist?”

“Ironic, huh?” Jeonghan laughs. “But she means well, even though she sucks with tech, she has good ideas and already has a viral TikTok video for one of our clients.”

“And she says she hasn’t been given her passwords? Aren’t we supposed to give it to them when they start?”

“Yeah, but usually they don’t ever log out, only she has that case,” he explains, the corner of his mouth lifting before he pats his junior’s shoulder reassuringly. “Just head on over there and help her, it doesn’t take more than ten minutes.”

Jihoon heaved a sigh, reluctant to help because of how tedious and unnecessary and easily avoidable this problem would’ve been if she’d had her hands on her account passwords.

Jihoon: Lee Saerom’s team? Y/N: Yes Jihoon: Alright, wait a minute Jihoon: On my way

“Are you dining in or taking away?” Jihoon asked Jeonghan, while he wrote down the password for your account on a sticky note.

“Dining in.”

“I’ll meet you there then.” With that, Jihoon tossed his cap off and trudged down to the second floor where Saerom’s team should be located. Since it was lunch time, most of the office space was empty, with only the office boy who was busy sweeping the floors from the aftermath of earlier today. He found the main room for the Marketing team fairly quickly, and didn’t have to look far for you as you were the only one in the room, seated in front of your computer, shoulders stiff and hands placed on your lap as if you were starting your first day.

Immediately upon hearing the creaking of the door, your eyes met above the desks and monitors, and for a brief second, Jihoon paused—almost shell-shocked as to finding someone like you working in a rundown company such as this.

“Y/N?” Jihoon called out, just making sure despite the obvious newbie aura that wafted around you.

“Yes… Are you Jihoon? The one covering for Wonwoo?” He nodded, and you were almost sure he’d say something to follow up to prevent an air of awkward silence from appearing between the two of you. He did not. Instead, he barely uttered anything as he approached your desk. You didn’t hesitate to push away with your chair to let him take the reigns and input your account. How you were able to stay logged out of the account and not have said anything earlier was unbeknown to him. You had been finishing up last week’s reports, but had only moved on to Google Analytics just twenty minutes ago. You’d usually have your account still logged in, always clicking the Remember me, however, to your surprise, you were logged out.

“This is your password.” Jihoon handed you the sticky note. “If you need any more help, you can just message me—Wonwoo is on leave for the next week.”

“A-alright.” Maybe it was the way he carried himself that intimidated you. Or the fact that he never made any attempt at small talk, thus, a tense and awkward air floated in the space between you two. Maybe it was his tone, lacking the usually bounce you’d usually hear from Wonwoo as he explained the mechanics of Hootsuite.

It is definitely his aura, it’s ice cold, you couldn’t help but think and maybe when he wasn’t looking, you’d shiver. “Thank you,” you uttered, and with a stiff smile, he nodded and left the room without anything further, leaving you to finish the last half of your report alone.

If you need any more help, you can just message me.

And that’s how it started, a back and forth of at least twice a day since that first exchange between you and Jihoon. At first, you had to introduce yourself again, despite the fact you were using Google Chats and your name was clearly displayed. After a brief introduction, you explained the problem at hand, then after a minute or two came Jihoon’s go-to reply.

Alright, wait a minute.

On my way.

The first couple of times, you almost thought it was an automated response he had somehow coded every time someone messaged him. Maybe he had set it so that after a couple of messages from the sender, it would trigger the short response from his end, however, you learnt that it was just purely him when your own messages grew shorter and shorter.

So, short to the point that this was your most recent exchange:

Y/N: Jihoon :( Jihoon: On my way

Thus, it became almost a routine for the two of you. Jihoon didn’t have any complaints, despite Jeonghan’s claims that the junior would usually complain from having to go back and forth, ascending and descending the same set of stairs more times than he should be. “Aren’t you tired?” Jeonghan had asked on Thursday after Jihoon had returned from helping you with the extension cord for the presentation you had scheduled the afternoon.

Jihoon merely shrugged. “I barely get to exercise with coming in.” Of course, as Jeonghan has been working with Jihoon since he started, he could tell the guy was bluffing, hiding whatever his true intention was behind his nonchalant facade, but he never said anything. Sooner or later the truth will come to light.

Jeonghan wasn’t the only that could tell that was a different air hanging around the avid-WFH-over-WFO tech employee, and whatever gossip that surrounded him managed to reach the ears of the guy he was covering for as the two got into a game of Valorant Thursday evening. As the two waited for a match to be found, Wonwoo informed him that his grandfather was feeling better and could be released from the hospital by Saturday morning.

“Oh, that’s good to hear, glad he’s doing alright,” Jihoon offered, although a bit half-hearted as he was eating his dinner by his desk at the same time.

“Yeah, and by Monday you can return to your world of working from anywhere,” Wonwoo said, a deep chuckle echoing on his end. “And by anywhere, I mean, literally just your room.”

“Nah, it’s fine, I can come in to the office next week,” Jihoon replied without thinking twice, then realized what he said and added, “you can make sure your granddad’s fine.” He internally sighed, believing he made a good save. However, a dead silence hung in the Discord call, even after the loud ‘Match found’ reverberated, breaking the silence for a second.

“What did you say?”

“What?” Jihoon tried to play dumb, then added, “I’m playing Gekko,” to change the subject.

“Did you just say you’re willing to leave the comforts of your own home to work from office?” Wonwoo asked again, clearly twisting Jihoon’s words causing him to roll his eyes. His colleague then added, in a faux tone of panic, “The end of the world is nearing, isn’t it?”

“Shut up and pick your damn agent.”

“Are you even Jihoon right now?”

Jihoon defended himself, “I can want to work from office from time-to-time, you know?” Wonwoo was exaggerating, wanting to work from office is tiring, but nothing is more boring than working alone with only a dumb FPS game there to entertain you every time you’re free. Admittedly, he found working while being surrounded with other people was enjoyable—he wasn’t a social butterfly, didn’t make an effort to start a conversation by the coffee machine either, but it was… nice being around others every now and then. Humans are meant to be social creatures, after all.

“You have been working from home ever since probation had ended, which was literally two years ago, Jihoon,” Wonwoo reiterated, “you have been working from home since.”

“That’s not true.” He frowned, the comment caught him off guard and he almost started the round with buying any abilities. “I worked three days last October.”

“Which was, what? Nine month ago?” He couldn’t rebuttal that. It’s common knowledge among his peers that he despises working from office—Jihoon knows that, too. It’s just that this week has changed his mind. People can change their mind. “I have to bribe you with Valorant just so you come to company dinners, and now you want to willingly cover me for another week? For free?”

An irritated groan shook his chest as his character died on screen. “Damn it—” He pushed to talk, “90 on Reyna.” He fell back into his chair with a sigh, annoyed that Wonwoo was ruining his focus on the game—it was supposed to be his rank up to Ascendant 3. “Okay, and what’s your point?”

Jihoon swears he could hear the guy smirk. “I know.”

“You’re being annoying, you’re distracting me.”

Wonwoo paid no mind to his complaints, hitting clean headshots on the enemy but the spike detonated causing them to lose the round. Despite that, Wonwoo kept his cool as he continued to taunt his colleague. “Vernon told me about your round trips to and from the Marketing team.” He was definitely grinning now. "The problem is, I know Saerom’s team don’t usually need any help from IT support—at least, not to the point to where you need to go there twice a day.”

Jihoon cursed under his breath as he, once again, misses his utility and gets killed barely ten seconds into the round. This time he doesn’t even bother to communicate with his team, in fear of his voice shaking in anticipation of Wonwoo’s suspicions. “Except for one person,” his peer begins, letting the silence drag between the two as he focused on the game, getting three kills in a row, winning the round for them. Then Wonwoo asks, Jihoon picturing a shit-eating grin on his damned face. “Y/N’s cute, isn’t she?”

“I’m forfeiting.” Jihoon presses slash then F, to which it was denied, their teammates sending in question marks in response. Wonwoo’s burst out laughing at Jihoon’s ‘missclicked sorry’ reply. “Focus on the game—if I derank, it’s on you.”

Wonwoo’s laughter only grew louder, letting himself have the last word. “Jihoon enjoying working from office wasn’t on my 2024 bingo.”

Neither was it on Jihoon’s because he never enjoys working from office. Whatever friendly and social air that was present the previous week wasn’t present now as he finds himself at the wrath of the Operation’s team manager.

“I was on a call with Miyoung and she told me she couldn’t access their website, Jihoon,” Eunkwang scolded, his greying brows forming deep crevices disguised as wrinkles between his eyebrows and across the length of his forehead. “You’re supposed to be on top of this—she couldn’t access it the whole weekend, Jihoon, what happened? We’ve never faced this problem before.” Yes they have, Jihoon recalled, it happens when you run an agency that barely gathers clients and doesn’t really care enough to provide quality platform options, either, but of course Eunkwang says the same argument. Talk about selective amnesia.

“I don’t care how long it takes for you to fix it—” Might take half an hour, could’ve dealt with it within the time you’re yelling at me but I’ll shut up, Jihoon bitterly thought but kept his lips pressed in a tight line. “I want it done until Miyoung calls to confirm.”

Once he was sure the old man was done projecting his anger, Jihoon bowed his head, uttering, “Understood.” He turned his body to climb up the stairs to the third floor, grumbling to himself how this wouldn’t have happened if he worked at home because he wouldn’t be tired from commuting and socializing during the weekends and could monitor the websites every now and then. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case because he was tired, and he is still tired, he hates working in the office, he doesn’t even know why he agree to go for another week, he could’ve been at home and in a Valorant Swiftplay by now—

“Jihoon?” He turned to find you, standing by the door of your team’s room, a timid look on your face. Something had happened, he could see it written all over your soft features as you eyed him wordlessly. Without saying anything, he followed you towards your desk, where you idly by your computer with pursed lips and furrowed brows.

The dreaded blue screen. It had only reached 15% and didn’t seem to budge even after three minutes of watching it.

“For God’s sake,” Jihoon cursed under his breath, however, it was loud enough for you to hear it and the unusual sharpness in his tone caused you to jump slightly, your heart beginning to race in your chest as his face contorted into frustration. “How did you manage to get stuck like this?”

“I-I don’t know.” God, you hated it when you started stuttering. It always made you look stupid and helpless. You inhaled a quick breath, hoping it would help calm the nerves that seemed to climb the more you avoided his intense gaze. “I was coming back from my break and turned it on, and it did this… I didn’t do anything, I swear…” If your lack of technological capabilities looked pitiful to Jihoon, your inability of forming a coherent and sensible answer was the cherry on top. “I’m really sorry.”

Upon seeing her stricken face, Jihoon inhaled a deep breath, letting his tensed shoulders fall. “No, Y/N, I should be sorry. I’m taking my anger out on you, you just needed help.” He glances back at your monitor, heaving another sigh. “Just leave it, it should be able to restart on its own, but if it doesn’t, just tell me.”

“Alright…” Would it be even more pathetic to say you were fighting away tears? You had to turn your head a bit, angling away from Jihoon so your hair fell to cover your face enough for him to not notice your obvious internal battle with letting your emotions take over. “I’m really sorry I keep bothering you with not being tech-savvy.”

An ache thumped in his chest hearing your apology, sounding defeated. “It’s fine, Y/N,” he tried to reassure you, but he knew damn well the damaged was done and whatever unspoken agreement to two of you had, had gone. Jihoon knew he was terrible with people, but he really messed up with ruining it with you—the one person that made coming into work, commuting back and forth, and facing nagging higher-ups, the least bit bearable.

It didn’t seem to register in him how bad the damage was until he got through the day without any messages from you. Even Jeonghan was surprised as the day was coming to a close. “Y/N didn’t come in?”

“She did,” Jihoon mumbled.

“And she didn’t need any help?” He only shrugged, trying to hide his own bewilderment. Did his words strike you that much? He decided to message you, just in case you were reluctant to ask him for help.

Jihoon: Y/N Jihoon: Everything alright?

He waited on the edge of his seat, his heart skipping a beat when you began typing back.

Y/N: Yes, everything’s fine ^__^

Everything was, in fact, not fine.

Not only did your computer take almost an hour to restart after the dreaded blue screen, whatever the computer had gone through during said hour had your accounts logged out, and you, being clumsy, misplaced the sticky note that Jihoon gave you, forcing you to borrow someone else’s computer to pull up the Instagram analytics. Fortunately, most of your inputted data was still available from before your break, it was still a hassle to transfer the data from your colleague’s computer to your own, and because, once again, you are tech-savvy, you didn’t know any shortcut. You had to turn to Google, open up YouTube tutorials on Excel shortcuts, consuming almost an hour of your day trying to learn everything from scratch.

But you promised yourself you wouldn’t bother him with any measly problems if Google already had a solution.

Even it meant running into the risk of never seeing him again.

Two days had passed. It was Wednesday and Jihoon was ready to pack up and head back to his old life of working from the comforts of his bedroom. Two days without his favourite snacks. Two days without his functioning PC that he paid hundreds, probably thousands of dollars to build. Two days without his fast Wi-Fi that was optimal for a quick ranked game.

And two days without the usual ping of his Google Chat, the room with you now collecting dust as the last message exchanged was his check-in on Monday.

Now Wednesday’s work day comes to an end without your plea for technological aid. You’re genuinely the only thing in this bleak, rundown, cheap company that makes the work worthwhile, Jihoon couldn’t help but think to himself on the train back home.

Was it pathetic of him to think of you as a reason to wake up in the morning, fight the morning rush and sit through eight hours of blank staring at a computer screen if it means he can get a glimpse of you every now and then when he goes down to get another fix of shitty coffee? The two of you only officially met last week after all, and yet, he has grown drawn to you, attached even, finding the brief sight of you as you sat by your desk, an ever-so-present clueless look to your face as you try to remember how to VLOOKUP the third time. He finds endearing, so endearing that his heart aches and his days grow grey when he hasn’t seen you yet.

Has he always been one to fall so quick for someone?

Would it be even more pathetic for him to fear that feeling? Mind you, he has never left the house unless bribed to, social interactions were scarce aside from the call outs to teammates in his ranked games, and even then, he never bothered to make small talk with the people he’d temporarily need to rank up. Was he a bit too deprived of social interactions that meeting you overwhelmed him to the point of creating a false sense of falling in l—

“Wonwoo, when are you coming back?” This time the two weren’t in a game of Valorant. Thank God, Wonwoo had thought when Jihoon asked to get on a Discord call. The latter had dinner prepared and was watching Big Bang Theory while on the call, but his head wasn’t focused on neither the ramen nor the TV show. “Can we switch back soon?”

“What happened to your willingness to go to the office?” Again, that damned smirk was noticeable in the way he spoke, but Jihoon needed to keep his cool.

“Changed my mind.”

“How come?”

“Sick and tired of being in the direct line of shot for Eunkwang’s spit when he yells at me,” he half-lied. He had to wash his face after that meeting, to the point he used the strawberry-scented hand soap to make sure he couldn’t feel the droplets on his skin.

“Oh yeah, Jeonghan told me.” A pause. “Sorry that happened to you, but it’s just Eunkwang, his ammunition is making you work overtime every now and then.”

“I just don’t want to deal with him every now and then, much rather read him yell in the group chats than in real life.”

There was a longer pause now, Jihoon’s eyes glanced at his second monitor just to make sure his friend didn’t disconnect. Then, Wonwoo spoke up, tone matter-of-factly and the shit-eating grin heard clearly. “Vernon tells me you haven’t been to the Marketing room in a bit.”

“Vernon you piece of shit snitch,” Jihoon cursed under his breath, but obviously his microphone caught it, Wonwoo throwing his head back in laughter.

“I’m guessing the Tech-Illiterate hasn’t been asking for your help?”

“Y/N,” Jihoon corrected, not liking the term used—even if it did fit you.

“Hey, there are a lot of tech-illiterate people in our company,” Wonwoo pointed out, then added, “so I guess you admit it then, you’re thinking of her.”

His eyes roll far back, he gets a mild ache in his temples. “Fine yeah,” he admits with a defeated sigh, “she doesn’t need any more help from me so why should I even bother to go to the office?”

“For work, Jihoon,” he says casually. “I mean, you get compensation to come to work. Extra money.”

“I’m already rich enough,” he responds, clearly dodging.

“Then why work?”

“I’m bored.”

“You piss me off.” Wonwoo’s comment successfully makes Jihoon chuckle. “I hope Y/N becomes so tech-savvy that she doesn’t need your help anymore, and you will never see her again.”

“Asshole,” he hisses and disconnects from the call immediately, Wonwoo’s words pushed to the back of his head as he finished his ramen and closed the TV show, opening Valorant for a quick game to relieve the stress built up for the day.

Unfortunately, once he laid on his bed, eyes stuck on the ceiling, his peers’ words returned tenfold, echoing a sickening mantra in his head. What if you do end up learning how to do your job with little to no help, technology-wise? It’s hard for the guy to admit (and a tad bit dramatic), but he truly did feel like his entire being has lighten since meeting you.

Maybe he is deprived of social interaction, and you were the fix he needed, but didn’t want it to be temporary. He wanted to know everything about you, the reason why you struggle with technology and remembering passwords and working different Google suites. He wanted to know why you chose this line of work, why this shitty company, and why hadn’t he met you before.

He wanted to know more about you, and he doesn’t want to ruin the chances of being able to do so.

Although it might be pathetic of him to feel so strongly over someone he only met the previous week, he knew this would be a missed opportunity to not get to know you better, that it would become his biggest regret and he didn’t want his leaving the comforts of his WFA routine be for nothing.

So, he had a plan. A bit of a cheesy, cliché of a plan, but a plan and he lost sleep wondering if it’ll work or not.

As he entered the office, his mind kept replaying what he needed to do. It was simple, he just needed to wait for you to reach out to him, ask for help with an issue and it should be smooth-sailing from there, all depends on your answer, of course, but that was something he could worry about later.

Phase one starts with you and your uncooperative computer.

Jihoon waited, eyes glancing between tabs where his Google Chat was opened, looking at the bottom right corner of his computer at the time, watching the time tick by and still no ping from you. But that was okay, it was only two hours into this gloomy Thursday, there was still a whole seven hours before he could truly panic.

So he waited more.

And more.

He waited until he couldn’t wait, and time was running out. Eyes shifted towards the clock: 16.39.

Less than thirty minutes until the work day, and tomorrow is Friday, and he needed to get this done today because if he didn’t then, it’ll mess up his plan for tomorrow (which depends on your answer, too, if you say ‘yes’ then there’s another plan for that, but if you say ‘no’ then Wonwoo was already back in the city so he could cover for Jihoon while the latter wallows).

“Fuck it,” Jihoon mutters as he pushes himself up out of his chair, causing everyone else in the room jumps and turns to his desk, only to see him already out the door and rushing down the stairs.

“Go get her, man,” Jeonghan utters, loud enough for everyone to chime along with him.

With long strides and quick steps down to your floor, everyone Jihoon seemed to past knew he was a man on a mission—a man on a mission for you. He tries to ignore the mild chills that rose up his spine at that thought. He might be pathetic sometimes, but he likes to believe he can be quite the cheesy romantic, despite what his friends might say.

As expected, since it had been a slow day, a lot of staff had clocked out early, their jobs for the day done and all ready to end the work week. However, you were still by your desk, focused on the task at hand, only two of your coworkers in the room with you, but even they were mindlessly playing with their Excel sheets, waiting for the clock to strike five.

When he stood close enough to you, he saw that you weren’t focused on a task, instead on a game of Minesweepers. He watched you win a game, pursing his lips and nodding, visibly impressed. Sensing a present, you turned around and jumped slightly. “Jihoon… Hi.”

“Hey, Y/N,” he greets back with a stiff smile. “Is everything alright?”

A brief look of confusion passed your face, glancing between him and your computer, before nodding, “Yeah, everything’s fine.” And it was. You got through your day just fine, nothing needed to be troubleshooted, or restarted. You didn’t panic, other than when you forget to send a file to Saerom, but everything—technology-wise—was fine.

“Really? I got a notification on my computer that there was something wrong with yours,” Jihoon lied through his teeth. He didn’t, but he needed you away from your computer so he has ample time to put his plan in motion. His statement caused your brows to furrow together, genuinely confused because you didn’t receive any notification from your own computer, shouldn’t that be the case? Unless you did, and you didn’t noticed because you were too focused on your Minesweeper game.

“Oh…”

“Yeah…” Jihoon rubbed a nonexistent itch at the back of his neck. “Are you done with your work? It might take a bit for me to check it.”

“Oh yeah, I’m done for the day,” you said, then to the clock above the door. “I didn’t realize it was almost five.”

If you could hear anything right now, it would be the pounding beat of his heart against his chest as he tries to formulate an excuse to get you off the computer. “It won’t take more than ten minutes, though, Y/N.”

“Alright, I’m just going to fill my water bottle and clean up while you deal with it.” With a stern nod, Jihoon watched as you stood and walked out the room. Once outside, he took his spot and started his plan.

Recalling the steps he saw on Google, opening Notepad as he pulled out the sticky note where he wrote the code beforehand, typing it in and inserting the necessary message. Once he had saved it, he tested it once, and almost yelled out in triumph when it worked, displaying a fake error message.

“What’s the problem, Jihoon?” You approached him, bottle filled to the top with water. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, you just…” He stood from his chair, gesturing for you to sit. He leaned down, keeping one hand on the back of your chair as the other guided you. “You just need to click that, it’s to install a… an update… Yeah, an update.”

“This one? The ‘Critical Inquiry’ one?” Jihoon hummed in response and watched with sweaty hands and a racing heart as you clicked it, an error message popping up on your screen.

Is this how IT guys flirt? The blood in your face travelled the distance to your cheeks, a bright pink beneath the glow of your skin as you tried suppressing your smile, Jihoon’s way of asking you out so unconventional, so out of the blue, so unique, that you couldn’t help but mentally applaud him, this was a new way you’d been asked out.

“What’s your option?” Jihoon asked, his voice so clearly on edge as he anticipated your answer, for a second even worried you’d decline then he’d be forced to return to his hermit habits and hide his embarrassment.

All that tension, no matter how hard he tried to hide it behind a nonchalant façade, was visible to you and gosh, he is so cute.

You sent him a smile, turning back to your computer wordlessly, letting your choice speak. Your cursor hovered towards the options, for a second too long it hovered over ‘No’, Jihoon’s breath hitching in his throat before his heart skipped a beat as the cursor moved and you clicked your mouse right on ‘Yes’.

The two of you stared at each other, a warmth in your eyes, and brightness in his, sharing a knowing smile before he uttered with the confidence he mustered between the panic.

“I’ll pick up at eight then, Y/N.”

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spxllcxstxr · 4 months ago

Text

Southern Charm (II) • C.S

(Gif not mine)

Request: Omggg please write a part 2 for the cregan stark fan fic! I need to see the kiss! -- anon + others

Summary: The tension between you and Lord Stark grows thicker and finally snaps

Warnings: fem!reader (terms like Princess and My Lady are used), you’re the daughter of Rhaenyra but I don’t specify the father so it can be more inclusive (older than jace), reader has hair (mentioned in like 1 paragraph, can be ignored), YEARNING, possibly a teensy bit suggestive?

Word Count: 1.3k

A.N: oh the yearning in this is *chef's kiss*, Writing this got to me a little bit, it's like so cute. Hope you enjoy!!!

Part II of Northern Attitude | Read the first part here!

•

The Valaryian steel necklace is cool between your fingertips as you fiddle with the clasp against the back of your neck. With the Northern weather harsh and cold against your Southern skin the necklace would be buried deep beneath your furs, yet you could not simply leave your neck bare in front of your hosts.

The small fire crackles in the hearth on the other side of the room as you continue to fumble with the necklace. You bite your lower lip, frustration starting to bubble up beneath your skin. In the Red Keep you had countless handmaidens to do all the trivial parts of getting ready; you weren't completely helpless, your mother made sure of that, but something as simple as a necklace clasp obviously wasn't meant to be solved by one person.

The rubies glimmer crimson in the light, taunting you. At this rate, you were going to be late to the council meeting necessary to secure the loyalty of the North.

"My Lady?"

A knock distracts you from your necklace, causing you to bunch it up in your fist.

"You may enter." You huff, trying not to present yourself as crossed to the Northmen hosting you.

You watch as the door slowly creaks open, expecting a guard or handmaiden to appear, but to your astonishment, the ruggedly handsome face of Lord Cregan Stark enters your vision.

"I presume you would like an escort to the council meeting?" Traces of pink linger on his usually pale cheeks.

You soften at his thoughtfulness.

“I would love that, Lord Stark. However, I require some assistance with the damned necklace.” You hold up the necklace. "If you do not mind, that is..."

His gaze only briefly flicks to the jewelry before settling back onto your form. He hums, a slight smile appearing across his face.

"I can see what I can do, Princess..."

You nod, grateful for his help.

You watch as Cregan pulls off his dark leather gloves. It's almost intentional, the way he slowly and methodically pulls at each finger before tugging the garments off completely. The simple everyday action has your body heating up and your mind drifting off. You try to shake away these thoughts--they're much too sordid and inappropriate for a Princess--but the attractiveness of your Northern host makes it almost impossible to compose yourself the way you should.

With a twirl of his now bare pointer finger, Cregan gestures for you to turn around so he can access the clasp of the steel chain. Not being able to see him coming has you practically quivering in your spot.

Your breath hitches once you finally feel his hands running through your hair; pushing it over one shoulder. Biting your lip you hope to avoid any other gasps from spilling through your lips. After carefully moving your hair, his fingers drop lower to assess the clasp resting on your neck

His calloused fingers are delicate against your skin; light, warm, and comforting. Unexpected from the Lord of Winterfell, yet simultaneously expected from Cregan Stark.

Tension rises as he silently fiddles with your necklace. You almost send out a silent prayer that this takes longer than need be.

Heat rises up your neck and settles in your cheeks as he slowly joins the two clasps of your necklace together. Your fingertips play with the lace of your dress, Cregan making you feel nervous.

He leans in closer to your ear, lips almost touching the top curve. "There you go, Princess." He whispers lowly. The warmth of his breath hits the tips of your ear, the deepness of his voice sending a shiver down your spine.

Cregan's hands flatten against your shoulders, heat completely flooding your body, taking over your senses.

"Thank you, my Lord..." You whisper. You move your right hand to drift up to his own, the skin of your fingertips almost grazing his knuckles.

The intimacy of it all frightens you; if anyone were to walk in, your position would seem compromising and could potentially ruin everything. Not only did you not want to lose the affection of Cregan, but you also didn't want to lose the respect of the Northmen and your mother.

Quickly you move your hand to instead smooth over the jewels of the Valaryian steel, swallowing roughly.

"Let me escort you to the Council room, Princess." His hands release your shoulders, the skin where his hands once were burning.

He swiftly puts his gloves back on in order to offer you his arm.

"That would be delightful." Turning, you offer the lord a small smile before taking his arm.

His hold on you as the pair of you walk through the corridors is light and comforting. Cregan was warm beside you, something that you basked in. The walk to the council meeting is quiet; the thought of his hands on you seared into your mind and onto your skin.

The audience with Winterfell's council goes swiftly and ends in your favor.

You attempt to hold back your excitement and satisfaction with the agreement in front of the Northmen, but when Cregan grabs ahold of you arm a wide grin erupts on your face.

"My first diplomatic endeavor and it was a success, Lord Stark! My mother will be oh so pleased with this outcome!"

"You did well today, Princess." Cregan agrees, diverting from the corridor he walked you down beforehand.

He guides you onto a balcony overlooking the Wolfswood. The evergreens are topped with a fresh dusting of snow. The cold bites at your ears and you can feel it deep in your core. Cregan stands next to you, unbothered.

You stare out into the woods, faintly spotting animals trekking through. Feeling eyes on you, you turn to see your host staring at you. His eyes seem to glow brighter in the winter weather. You heart beats rapidly in your chest.

"Do not leave Winterfell today, Princess..." His baritone voice is hardly above a whisper, cheeks pink.

You furrow your brows. "This agreement is of upmost importance, I must send word--"

"Leave on the morrow; stay in Winterfell tonight." You watch him swallow before turning to completely face you. "Stay with me tonight, Princess. Do not leave just yet."

"Lord Stark--"

"Cregan."

"Cregan..." Your entire body fills with warmth as his name falls from your lips. "I...I do not know what to say..."

Slowly, Creagn shifts next to you, first placing a large palm lightly on your cheek while he places the other on the small of your back.

"Say you will stay one more night." He looks at you as if you were the most beautiful girl in the world, with a fondness that could go unrivalled.

Your tongue darts out to wet your lower lip, hands moving to grasp onto the leather straps across his broad chest.

"Just one more night. Then I really must be off..." You whisper, first looking into his grey eyes before focusing on the curvature of his lips.

The hand that was once cupping your cheek lightly dances across your face as it moves to instead hold the bottom of your chin. Your breath becomes uneven.

"Perfect..." Creagn's lips suddenly capture your own in a soft kiss. His lips are slightly chapped but addicting nonetheless.

Humming in satisfaction as the tension suddenly snaps, you press your lips into his eagerly, your hands squeezing the leather straps even tighter.

Eventually he leans back to breathe, but he stays close to you, forehead resting against your own.

"Come, Princess, let us make the most of your time here." He smiles, pulling you closer to him as you practically melt in his grasp.

•

#house of the dragon #hotd #house of the dragon x reader #hotd x reader #house of the dragon x you #hotd x you #cregan stark #cregan stark x reader #cregan stark x you #cregan stark fluff #cregan stark fic #lord stark #lord cregan stark #cregan stark x targaryen!reader

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uglypastels · 7 months ago

Note

Logan x reader where the reader is scott's younger sister and they're in a secret relationship because she's younger/obviously doesn't want her brother to know. Maybe Scott tries to set her up with someone else or she gets hurt on a mission or something because she got too cocky and everything comes to the surfaces. Sorry I know that's now very descriptive🙈

no don't be sorry this was perfect, if not giving me too much to word with lol. this is so great I wasn't really sure how to incorporate all the elements, but I hope what I managed to do was still good. I certainly had a lot of fun writing it lol. also, apologies if there are some dumb mistakes/errors. i am so sleep deprived but just really wanted to post this before going to bed.

warning: Smut 18+ only. MDNI. no condom [wrap it before you tap it pls]. p in v. fingering. swearing. degradation ["slut" is used]. accidentally almost public stuff. quickie. sub/dom dynamic. un/intentional cockblocking.

~ X-Men Requests Open ~ Masterlist ~

‘Oh my god,’ you moaned out as Logan pressed you against the wall of the small janitor’s closet. It was too cliché to even think about it. And who would have ever expected the Academy to have a janitor’s closet? If you thought about it, it was almost as if the universe wanted you to take this opportunity and hook up with him in the little cubby.

The second you saw him that morning in his loose-fitted long-sleeve and those boot-cut jeans, the only thing you could think about for the rest of the day was how much you needed him. You had managed to survive past noon, and then you had to go and stumble into the garage and catch him working on his motorbike.

His long-sleeve was discarded to reveal the white, now slightly dirty, tank top. His arms were toned and tanned. You watched him just long enough for him to notice your presence, then to grab the towel hanging from his back pocket and wipe his hands clean.

‘C’mere, Princess,’ he called you over with two fingers, and you almost felt like you had gained the ability to float so quickly had you made your way over to him. Next thing you know, he had picked you up, his hands firmly on your ass, yours in his hair, and your lips colliding in a passionate crash of a kiss.

‘Fuck, I missed this,’ you moaned out in a desperate moment to catch a breath with your chest already heaving. ‘Missed you.’ You kissed the corner of his mouth, getting the most satisfaction at how a smile formed in the spot where your lips touched him. Neither of you could help yourselves. The urges you felt were nearly animalistic, but when you were around him, you also felt like you were up in the clouds, feeling light as a feather and giddy like an idiot. The need for him was coursing through your veins.

‘Mmm, I know, sugar,’ his voice came deep from his throat in a growl full of yearning. ‘Gonna let me have my way with you, yeah?’

All you could respond with was a desperate moan. So caught up in the delicious feeling of his body against yours, that you nearly missed the beeping announcement of the garage doors opening. You would have gone on unaware of anything going on around you if it wasn’t for Logan pulling away and setting you back on the ground. It was like a switch flipped on inside your brain, and just in time, as the doors opened and a car drove up as you took your precautionary steps away from Logan, who had gone back to working on his bike.

The car halted in its designated parking spot, and you weren’t surprised to find your older brother, Scott, stepping out of it. Only he would have such perfectly unfortunate timing.

‘Hi Scott,’ you tried to sound chipper about bumping into him, and absolutely not like he had just interrupted a much-needed make-out session with your boyfriend that he knew nothing about. How you had managed to keep it a secret for all these months, you had no idea.

‘Hey,’ he smiled politely you way, as he had already made his way to the exit. As always, you couldn’t see his eyes through the red glasses he wore, and yet you could tell exactly where he was looking at with that judgemental look of his. But Logan didn’t pay him any attention, which might have even been the bigger insult than if he had quipped something your brother’s way. You knew he wanted to, though, but you also knew that he didn’t want to insult your brother right in front of you.

You waited for Scott to walk out of the room, but to your surprise, your brother turned around to you. ‘Are you coming?’

‘She was about to.’ You heard Logan mumble under his breath as he… You weren’t sure what exactly he was doing with that bike with the screwdriver. You never understood much of mechanics.

‘Uhm, yeah,’ you responded, ‘I uhh– I just wanted to ask Logan something. I’ll just be a moment.’

‘No, I’ll see you later, bub,’ Logan caught you off guard. ‘This might still take a while and I don’t want to keep you waiting.’

‘Oh, ok.’ You pushed the disappointment off your face before you started walking to the exit where Scott stood, still none the wiser. As soon as you walked into the corridor, you made up an excuse to go the other way and walked as fast as you could without making it necessarily suspicious if he had glanced your way.

The hours that followed went by painfully slow. You kept your eye out for Logan, but he was nowhere to be seen all afternoon. Dinner had come and gone, and you were returning to your room, already having made your peace with the fact that today was simply one of those days where fate kept you apart.

And exactly at that moment, Logan turned the corner.

‘Where the hell were you all day?’ you questioned, annoyed, but no matter how angry you pretended to be, the grin on your face at the sight of your boyfriend was quite clear in meaning.

‘I did have stuff to finish on my bike.’ He took a few large strides your way, ‘and then some kids needed help with something.’

‘Aww, that’s sweet.’ You leaned into him, your chin on his chest, as you looked up into his eyes.

‘Don’t act too surprised, Princess.’ His arms immediately wove themselves around your waist, and you slowly leaned for a kiss. It was risky to do this in an open hallway where anyone could walk in, but in the moment, you couldn’t care less. You just wanted to feel him, all over you. The desperation for it grew with each second and was ready to explode.

That was all in theory, of course, since as soon as you heard any threat, the risk-taking daredevil part of you immediately hid, and you were looking for an escape route. It was two pairs of footsteps this time that echoed through the hallways. You cursed under your breath.

Just your luck to be standing next to a door. Trying its limits again, you pulled down at the door handle and sighed with relief as it opened. You quickly slipped inside, pulling Logan in behind you by the hand. He closed the door back behind him just in time as the footsteps, which you now recognised to be Scott and Jean’s, along with their voices, moved across the spot where you had just been standing.

‘Are they—’ but your question never was finished, as your lips were caught in a haste kiss. It was pitch black in the tiny room, but you heard Logan pull the lightbulb cord. The next thing you know, the faint yellow light illuminated what you now recognised to be the janitor’s cubby. A closet large enough to fit a large shelfcase filled with cleaning products, buckets, and towels. But Logan needed no time to orientate himself. He was already all over you. One hand pinning your leg up against his upper thigh, leading you against the wall.

‘Oh my god,’ you moaned out as you felt the pressure and structure of the room against your shoulders, Logan’s chest against yours. His hand stroke up and down your leg, squeezing at the soft flesh of your ass.

‘Wanna be my good little girl?’ Logan growled into your ear.

‘Yes,’ you whined, desperate for more than just his kiss. ‘Fuck, yes.’

‘Want me to fuck your tight little pussy, sugar? Just like you’ve been begging me for? What you say, you little slut?’ At the sound of his words, all of yours simply escaped you and so you could only respond in a series of moans and whines. All sounds that brought Logan immense joy and arousal. ‘Yeah, thought so.’ It had been a very conscious choice you had made that morning by wearing a skirt. Not that you had expected to end the day in this closet, but you were sure it would end somewhere in Logan’s grip. And so you were fully prepared.

His fingers smoothed over your panties, pressing over your slit, feeling the material get soaked through just that one simple touch. But it wasn’t enough. For either you or him. He kept toying with you for a few more minutes, never crossing the material barrier of your underwear, long strokes up and down, pushing in closer, almost as if nothing was there to separate you.

‘Please,’ you cried out, ‘baby, please. I need–’

‘What do you need, sweetheart? C’mon, use your words?’ God, you hated when he got so cocky. You could never take much of his teasing. Then again, you weren’t in here to exactly last long.

‘Need your fingers. Please.’

‘Good girl,’ he kissed your forehead, snapped the band of your underwear to make you whine so prettily as he loved, and pulled the panties down your legs.

Another filthy moan left you as his fingers slowly filled you up. The expletives rolled off your tongue in the rhythm of his thrusts. He kept a steady pace, and one that left you shaking against him. So much so that soon enough, he had to hold you up by the arm, pinning you down even harder. One leg propped up high for even easier access to his favourite part of you.

‘Such a good slut, taking anything I give you, anywhere I want you.’ His voice could practically get you over the edge alone, and he knew that well enough on his own, and so he kept talking. ‘Can’t wait to get my hard cock in you, Princess. Gonna fill you up so good. Fuck. Just you wait—’

‘No, please,’ you cried out.

‘What’s that? My girl can’t wait a few more minutes for her cock?’ He kissed your neck so ferociously it was more like his teeth grazing over the sensitive skin, and the sensation left shivers down your whole body. He raised his mouth up to directly speak against your ear.

‘So fucking desperate. Wish you could see yourself now. Just know you’d do anything for me, wouldn’t you?’ He punctuated the question with one final deep thrust of his large fingers. ‘You gonna cum? No, no, no. Not yet. You’re gonna let me have my fun first, isn’t that right?’

‘Yes.’ was all you managed to say. Then his lips clashed with yours in another of your sloppy kisses. Your hands found themselves in his hair for the second time that day, and you already felt yourself falling into bliss, and that was all without even the feeling of his length finally pushing deep in you. If only you could scream the pleasure you felt. But for now, in the closet, you would make due by digging your nails into his shoulder. That, in turn, only got Logan more riled up as his thrust grew in pace. He hit all your right spots evenly, hard and deep. If he kept going like that, and you were sure he would, you didn’t know just how much longer you would last.

‘Fuck, I’m gonna–’ your voice was breathy and out of focus, as all that was on your mind was him inside you.

‘Yeah, c’mon, sweetheart, come for me. Come all over my cock.’ he growled the words with the same intensity and desperation for release you felt.

You were so close. Just ready to burst. Moment away when—

When suddenly, a knock on the other side of the door halted the both of you. In a sudden moment, everything washed away with the power of a tsunami. Leaving nothing behind but emptiness.

Someone cleared their throat. Someone who you could already recognise from that simple gesture.

‘Alright, it’s past curfew, lovebirds, knock it out.’ You could hear in your brother’s voice just how uncomfortable he was by catching two, what he assumed to be students, clearly hooking up. Your guess was that the room had not been as soundproof as you imagined a cubby to be. Or you were that much louder.

You looked up at Logan, who had already started zipping up his jeans. There was another firm knock on the door.

Well, if Scott had already felt embarrassed, you were about to make it ten times worse.

the end.

thank you for reading 💗

if you enjoyed the fic, please consider reblogging and leaving a comment. or send a message via my inbox. requests are also more than welcome. 💗

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kg-day · 7 months ago

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What annoys me the most about the "kataang has no chemistry" argument is that they do have chemistry, but people choose to ignore it because it's not the chemistry they're used to seeing/expecting. There isn't going to be an underlying tension or yearning that speaks to a more physical attraction to one another, these are kids for Christ's sake. Their chemistry is soft and sweet and romantic and - most importantly - age-appropriate. Not only that, but I think what a lot of people who hate on them like to forget is that their romantic relationship has always been secondary to their friendship. Katara and Aang kissing at the end of the show signifies the start of their romantic journey, not the end of it. Yes, they obviously have feelings for one another throughout the show (and I am saying obviously because it was obvious that Katara had feelings for Aang considering he was literally the only person who received that kind of treatment from Katara, like literally nobody else was treated by Katara the way that Aang was, nobody) but their romance doesn't truly start until they kiss on the balcony. Everything before that is the basis for which their relationship bloomed, but more than anything - more than the kisses on the cheek, the hugs, the blushing - their deep trust, respect, and admiration for one another is what brought them to that balcony. If you spend too much time focusing on whether or not Katara and Aang seemed like they were attracted to one another (which there is also ample evidence of, people just once again ignore it and write it off as "childish crushes" because it's not over the top dramatic mature romance) you ignore the fact that their chemistry lies in how they work seamlessly as a team, how they support one another, and how they share a deep, unspoken connection as two genocide survivors - and children - stuck in a war. Katara and Aang have chemistry, but they're also best friends, and that has always been the most important part of their relationship.

#kataang #katara x aang #I will die a firm believer that if Aang looked more like Zuko #people would actually see the chemistry between him and katara #they're so baby #friends to lovers you have always been my favorite trope

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tiktaalic · 1 year ago

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catching fire dash simulator

finnicksgirl Follow

my streams have been cutting all season omfg what is going on

caps4finnick Follow

cinnagirl3000 Follow

anybody heard from cinna lately?

plutarcheology Follow

Plutarch Heavensbee circa 2282

revolutionarykatniss

As if it’s not ENOUGH that yall wanna fuck the most morally bankrupt man alive who is more than complicit because he gets paid to live in luxury to ORCHESTRATE the deaths of innocents so that they’re a spectacle and don’t have the option to die even semi peacefully. as if that’s not enough. You wanna fuck him when he’s ugly?

caesarflickerwoman Follow

anyone else still thinking about how caesar and peeta were kinda ..

czrflckmn

Aren’t you the one who had the week long meltdown about peeta being overfamiliar with him

caesarflickerwoman

Well you see I’m gay and a man now

theeclove Follow

already tired of this fucking season of everlark -_- idgaf about the fucking fog

siblingvictors

DISTRICT ONE GONNA SEND THEM A CANCELLATION NOTICE!! #CASHMEREGLOSS4EVER

czrflkmn Follow

everyone looooooves to act like NOTABLE cishet peeta is so gay w caesar as if his gay cohost isn't right there.... slaying in a wig..... sending yearning glances caesar's way right before the camera cuts......

johannadykeson Follow

tbh she’s got the WORST taste in allies idek why i continue to stan. girl MAGS?

#my girl going to get slorn :/

katnissgirlsmakedo

She is choosing with her HEART she chose to save peeta in the games REMEMBERRRRRRRR she’s literally a lovergirl to the core

#lovecore #heartcore #truelove

lucygraydotcom Follow

Caesar flickerman kidn if a laughing gnome. Reblog

finnickforever Follow

I’ve supported finnick through a lot and defended them and I’ve always been proud they're from my district but honestly they went way too far by doing the salute during the interview. I can only hope that they just got caught up in the moment with everyone else doing it and obviously it’s a stressful situation but I don’t think I can continue endorsing them. I’ll be changing my url this week.

divorceekatniss Follow

hey guys i know times are tough for everyone and the capital has really cracked down but my mutual @divorceepeeta got flogged the other day and could really use some help. v3nmo here. anything helps #signalboost #mockingjay

disabledmags Follow

Tbh the baby is the saddest thing I've ever heard </3

peetaspride

Another citizen falling for capital propaganda. It's so glaringly apparent that this is made up to draw in views. The tributes undergo extensive medical examination prior to the games. They would NEVER let a pregnant woman compete.

disabledmags

As if killing children has ever stopped them before?

#We all saw him fall to protect her stomach before they even started the victory tour #Is it that ridiculous to believe two newlyweds fresh out of a life or death situation would celebrate a little carelessly?

peetaspride

If you think even the marriage is real you're stupider than I thought. Peeta spends every interview begging us to see his truth. The capital is shamelessly silencing him and "the baby" is a distraction.

peetasbabymama Follow

URL CHANGE!! faggotpeeta->peetasbabymama

cupcakeeverlark

this isnt funny. peeta's a real person with real feelings. it will never be funny to call someone a f***** as a joke. how would you feel if my url was f*****peetasbabymama?

peetasbabymama

district420

isnt cupcakeeverlark literally prez snow's 12 yr old granddaughter lol

tendinghiswounds

OOMF IS 12???????????

everlarklovechild

the age is the problem here?

marriedeverlark Follow

Canon url 🎉🎊💅😁🥰♥️

beeteemp3 Follow

New content of my favorite tribute 😁😁😁

3ffietrinket

Girl there’s a 96% chance they die ?

peenick Follow

getting reports from the presidential banquet that Peeta looks gay as fuck

3v3rlark Follow

ik peeniss has been flagging w the rehearsed speeches but did anyone else see the way they looked at each other in the censored district 11 speech

rues-song

you’re STUPID she’s a capital pawn AND i fucked your mom while you were busy looking for illegal streams

senecacraneofficial Follow

rip seneca you were so babygirl </3

plutarchbaby69

so now you think we can’t fuck old men?

#this fandom is so ageist #this is prob what I get for blogging about thg tbh since # it’s literally about kids. Some of you ppl need to grow up

#etxt #the hunger games #making a post with han is pretty much the most classic thing Len can do

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sanjisboyfie · 1 year ago

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suguru's needless jealousy

geto suguru x male reader

being suguru's boyfriend and all of his friends (shoko and satoru, basically - man's does not really have friends like that) not believing how he could find such a wonderful, caring boyfriend like you.

it kind of pisses him off, actually. because he knows how lucky he is to have you, obviously he knows, he's the one dating you. he's the only one who knows just how fast his heart races whenever he sees you. he's the only one who gets that really warm feeling in his chest when you so much as look in his direction. he's the only one who gets to hear you whisper, "i love you," to him and practically send him spiralling with just those three words alone.

but whenever you walk into the classroom, shoko and satoru both think he's gotten memory loss in his sleep because they're both gushing about, "waahhh, suguru, your boyfriend's a total babe, why'd he settle with you? he could have anyone he wanted!" or, "suguru, you better be treating [name] with the utmost respect, he deserves the best for being such a sweetheart!"

you are the one that always kindly brushes their compliments off, taking a comfortable seat next to suguru, who pulls you closer to him by tugging on the leg of your chair towards his. there's a small frown on his face, but it washes away the moment you rest your hand on top of his.

with that simple touch, he'll tiredly tell the two of them to just shut up before focusing all of his attention on you. and that frowns melts into a lovesick smile as he hangs off of every word that leaves your lips.

however, satoru one day takes the teasing too far. for suguru's taste, at least. you had run off to grab the three of you drinks from the vending machine. unfortunately, the one near the common area was broken. despite satoru having the ability to fix it, he was being a hardass and refusing to.

this made you have to almost walk around the entire campus just to get the drinks for them.

satoru was going on and on about how considerate you were, both as a friend and boyfriend. suguru didn't mind that much. he loved to praise you for your actions no matter how big or small - especially to those around him.

it was his own subtle, greedy way of saying, "look at my boyfriend and all he does for me because he loves me, yeah, i am the luckiest guy in the world~"

obviously, when he does sing your praises they aren't as obvious as that. they're subtle, inconspicuous.

or, another way of phrasing that would be, not as obvious as gojo satoru makes his admiration for you be.

like suguru said, he doesn't mind when others sing your praises. you deserve the recognition for being so kind. but, in his humble opinion, it almost sounded like satoru was just yearning now.

yearning for his boyfriend. seriously, of all people...

it made a tick mark appear on his forehead as he thought about it.

"and, and! did you see the way he was so eager to just go grab them for us? even though he doesn't have to, [name] is always putting others before him. he's really a great guy, i bet he's an amazing boyfriend too, suguru! god, you're one lucky man!"

suguru's eye twitched, "i know, i am lucky, he treats me really well,"

"well, you better treat him well too, or else who knows! he might ditch your sorry ass," it was obviously a joke, with the way satoru's mocking laugh echoed after he said that, it was very obviously a joke.

but suguru was already at his limits in dealing with satoru's bad jokes.

"oh, so you can sweep him off of his feet after he ditches me, right?"

satoru stilled at the comment, looking at suguru as if he were crazy. but before he could shout about how out of pocket suguru was being, he was cut off, "you've been dick riding my boyfriend for the past ten minutes, satoru, is there something you wanna say to me?"

satoru's blue eyes blinked owlishly, "are you seriously saying what i think you're saying? are you a dumbass?"

"i don't know, you tell me. you're the one that was sounding like a desperate school girl trying to get noticed by her crush, not even ten seconds ago,"

now satoru was just offended! god, he can't even sing your praises without a jealous suguru breathing down his neck.

[name] control your man or else i won't know what i do to him for pissing me off, was the only though in satoru's mind.

"don't be such a dick just cause you're jealous, dude," satoru warns, only making suguru's eyes glare at him even more - as if he were insulted.

"i'm not jealous," suguru weakly defended, making satoru only roll his eyes.

when you returned a couple seconds later, satoru took his juice from you, placed some yen to pay you back for it into your now open hand, and walked off.

"huh? i thought satoru was going to wait with us here for shoko?"

"change of plans, he and shoko are gonna meet up elsewhere. they said we could have the time together for some couple business or something," suguru easily lied, not at all feeling bad for doing so either.

with how often shoko and satoru were complimenting you for how selfless you were, they surely wouldn't mind you spending personal time with your own boyfriend, aka him, aka geto suguru.

"oh, if it's alright with them, let's go!" you cheerfully smiled, unscrewing the cap of your juice and linking your arm through suguru's. "what's the plan for today then, babe?"

suguru almost melted at your touch and pet name for him. he gazed down at you lovingly, shrugging his shoulders with a smile on his face, "anywhere you wanna go, prince, i'll just follow along,"

you pout at his lax attitude, but sigh and choose a random arcade to spend your time in. he nods in approval, allowing you to drag him through the streets of tokyo with a smirk on his face.

you were his and he was yours, he thought to himself. he held your hand in his now, walking through the dimly lit arcade with you two closely connected with each other.

he was the one you were spending time with the most, not shoko or satoru. he was the one that got the teddy bear you won for him, not shoko or satoru. and he was definitely the one you were kissing, not shoko or satoru.

they can sing your praises for being a perfect boyfriend and tease and degrade his status as yours as much as they want, but at the end of the day, their words mean nothing as he's the one who's truly winning.

after all, it's his bed you sleep in at night and he's the one who gets to have you be the first thing he sees in the morning.

suguru felt stupid for even being the slighest bit jealous of satoru's words earlier. he doesn't even know why he was jealous. because satoru was so obviously admiring you? because it sounded like satoru was noticing the little things you did just how suguru did?

how could suguru even feel jealous about little shit like that, when you're the one saying the sweetest words about him being your boyfriend.

(don't praise him too much, though, his heart may stop at your endearing words. seriously, his face feels like it'll explode with how heated his cheeks get and how erratic his heart beat can go.)

#jealous suguru #for the culture #suguru male reader #suguru x male reader #geto suguru male reader #geto suguru x male reader #geto male reader #geto x male reader #jujutsu kaisen x male reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x male reader #jjk x reader #jjk male reader #male reader #x male reader

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esotericbluntbaby · 1 month ago

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HIIIII i love your writing style so bad, i came on here to request something and then i see you doubt your own writing which is crazy cuz they're all good!!! can i request hamzah and reader in something worse than a situationship so she brings out like someone attractive along at a party or something (it could literally be a gay man that offered to help her idk) to see if it'd make him jealous and it actually does. IM SORRY if you get too mant jealous hamzah requests but i just yearn for him, PLS have angst in the beginning 😭😭🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼.

worsened aches

hamzahthefantastic x reader

description: though toxic and envious, you realize that your situationship had to have gone through the worst in order to better itself for the sake of you and hamzah.

mentions: angst (expect it at this point), yearning, posessiveness, toxicity in a situationship out of confusion, she/her pronouns, both hamzah and reader are equally mean to each other so hopefully it cancels out, a guy making you uncomfortable and grabbing your hand, a fight scene, happy ending, sfw for the most part

listen to partynextdoor while you're reading lol. specifically make it to the morning or resentment but honestly any will do <3

"you're literally fucking crazy- what are you talking about?"

you and hamzah were currently going at it like two players on rival teams. though your relationship, or lack there of, was toxic and overly complicated, you both stayed in the same rooms you fought in because of the loneliness that consumed the both of you. obviously, arguing wasn't fun, nor was it ethical for the sake of your mental health, yet, bickering with someone else was somehow better than spending your nights alone and depressed.

you met hamzah because of how loud he was. you were, and still are, his neighbor who moved in a couple months ago. getting annoyed of the lack of sleep, you decided to march over to his apartment in the same manner that the guardsmen stomp in front of the royal palace; they had the queen to defend, while you had your sanity to fight for. over time, the friendship and simultaneous rivalry stemmed from that night and bloomed into the situationship you have right now.

you and hamzah technically aren't anything; technically, you and hamzah are nothing more than just friends who occasionally act coupley to fill the voids that call you to jump out of windows and balconies. you both were lonely, creating a seemingly win-win situation. he comes over whenever he needs someone to cuddle at night, or more than cuddle, and vice versa. it's been a system that's worked out for about eight-ish months now.

as all situationships do, it was bound to crash and tumble like hurricanes over the ocean. over time, the lack of a label caused more problems than einstein could sold. neither of you had a complete understanding of the boundaries you each wanted, nor did either of you want to risk creating a more serious problem than what it seemed to be by talking about it. so, over time, resentment built itself up within the foundations of the connection between the both of you as communication began to settle in the roots of the ground it was built on.

the night started alright; it was simple making out, occasional pecks on the cheeks and forehead, and constant physical touch. he even bought you food and fed it to you while you two sat on the couch and watched comfort movies. your presence was enjoyed as much as his was. it was normal that whenever hamzah was over, you'd completely lose sight of the bad parts of the connection you have after any part of him would touch you. however, the mood quickly changed when hamzah answered the call of another girl while on your couch. watching his smile expand at her words as you were cuddled up right beside him caused a pit to grow within your chest. it felt wrong. technically, given that you two were friends, it wasn't; however, the fact that he was all over you two seconds before you both heard the ringtone was, in fact, wrong. you moved away, distancing mountains and seas between you two on his couch, as eventually the call became silent and he hung up. you wouldn't speak to him. growing annoyed, he forced you to speak, to which you called him an asshole for "damn near flirting with a girl in front of you." thus, his gaslighting begun.

"hamzah, what do you mean, 'what's wrong with me?' what's wrong with you?"

he scoffed, "fucking nothing. nothing even happened- i have no clue what you're talking about. why are you making something out of nothing?"

"that's so fucking mature. you told me to talk, didn't you? or did i just make something out of nothing again?"

"oh my god, that's not what i meant- dude, why are you even mad? it's not like i did anything."

you raised your eyebrows, "my head was literally on your lap while you were flirting with her."

he slowly emphasized his words, "i wasn't even flirting with her."

"you made your voice deep like you were fuckin' neil degrasse tyson, are you joking? and what the hell was she saying that was making you laugh that hard?"

he put his hands up in defense, "it's not a big deal. so what if jess called me and i laughed when she told me a fuckin joke? it's not that deep."

your body felt like it was rising in temperature, "you're actually such a liar- we both know that it was that deep, bro. that's literally how you laugh with me."

"why does it matter if that's how i laugh with you?" he made a noise between a laugh and scoff and looked back at the television, "it's not like we're dating."

he was right. you weren't dating, so you can't be upset. you knew you mostly wanted that reassurance that he wouldn't find someone else while messing with you on the side, though you assumed that hamzah wasn't like that. you've had the run down of a bad dating history and horrible ex's and, yeah, hamzah was kind of bad. however, hamzah was bad in a way where at least it was to your face, unlike the infidelity and lies in your past relationships. unlike them, the worst that hamzah would do was get defensive over an argument or say something that was a little too mean on accident because he was genuinely just speaking his mind. honestly, the touch and treatment he gave you during the times you weren't bitchy towards each other evened out the slight toxicity; actually, even surpassing it. however, this was too far. this was a lie and you knew it. it was a lie that he specifically told to hurt you on purpose.

sure, maybe you could've gone a different direction with confronting him and maybe you were too aggressive with your accusations; but at the same time, you were also hurt that he would do that in front of you, as your head rested a couple of inches away from his heartbeat. the intimacy of the setting the both of you were in was overtaken by a green bogeyman; envy in its personified form.

the room fell silent as he kept on watching the movie. he only looked at you when you sniffled from tearing up so much. you guys have argued in the past, but never have you cried in front of him; this was vulnerability that you allowed to seep through you like sunlight seeps through the roots of a plant.

his attention was now fully on you, "are you crying?"

"hamzah, i want you to get out of my place."

"wait-"

you stood up and began to walk through the door, "let yourself out the door and don't come back. i'm done."

three weeks without him had passed and you were an emotional wreck; a wreck that was so bad that other cars on the road had to stop to see it for themselves. throughout the stages of grief, you were currently on the acceptance stage. you hadn't left you apartment ever since that night out of fear that he'd be leaving his, next door. a couple of times, you heard the knock that you two made for each other to signify that it was the other person at the door. with each knuckle to the wood, a pang in your heart thumped harder and with more rigor. luckily, it only lasted a total of a week before he stopped coming over.

since any romantic encounter or even simple things around your house reminded you of the man next door, you were going to continue to rot in bed whilst watching horror movies. however, the plan was quickly changed when rey, the gay man you met at a club a couple of months ago, decided to text you.

rey :p

5:42 pm | hey boo

5:42 pm | i haven't talked to you in forever

5:42 pm | how r u?

you

5:43 pm | im horrible

5:43 pm | u rmbr the guy i used to talk to u about

rey :p

5:44 pm | the one that was ur bf but also not ur bf?

5:44 pm | like the one that u showed me a pic of and i said he had the same eyes as central cee

you

5:44 pm | yeah

rey :p

5:44 pm | what'd the bitch do

you

5:45 pm | he was genuinely being an asshole

5:45 pm | he literally picked up the phone right

rey :p

5:45 pm | mhmmm

you

5:46 pm | it was a girl

5:46 pm | i was laying my head down on his lap

5:46 pm | and i guess she was the funniest person in the world or smth bc he was laughing his ass off like a fucking idiot

rey :p

5:46 pm | bro hell no

5:46 pm | r u serious

5:47 pm | r u okay

you

5:47 pm | bedrotting lowk lol

5:47 pm | haven't gotten out of my bed in like a full three days

5:48 pm | idk i guess i js miss him

rey :p

5:48 pm | it's reasonable

5:48 pm | im going to a party tn

5:48 pm | come with meeeeee

5:48 pm | maybe u just need a distraction

you

5:49 pm | idk rey

rey :p

5:50 pm | go get dressed and pls shower dont be stinky

5:50 pm | ill pick u up at like uhhhh 8ish

you

5:50 pm | fine

you were two drinks down when rey was only tipsy from one drink. being the designated driver, he didn't want to overdo it; yet, he reassured you that he'd take care of you throughout the night. you were simply enjoying his presence; however, given that it was his friends' party that he was going to, occasionally you were left by yourself leaning on walls or sitting on couches and getting up when a couple started to make out on the leather right next to you. after a while, you began to regret going; the more you were alone, the more you thought about how hamzah would be towering over you like some sort of bodyguard in order to make sure that nobody spiked your drink.

as you were zoned out and thinking about him once again, you suddenly came into focus when rey went up to you and gave you a side hug. confused, your eyebrows furrowed as you looked up at him.

"are you thinking about him again?" rey asked, taking another sip of his seltzer.

you sighed, "is it that obvious?"

"if you wanna go home, i can take you. i'm sorry if i pushed you too hard to go out- i just didn't want you to stay home crying over some boy."

"no, yea, i get it. thank you, really, maybe i just needed to go outside. are you ready to go home?"

"i was just gonna drop you off and come back."

you didn't want to seem like a burden; rey was only trying to help you with coping. to have to drive a whole thirty minutes just to drop you off and come back seemed like too much to ask for; after everything that happened with hamzah when it came to begging for communication and reassurance, you hated seeming like you had too much to ask for. so, you took a deep breath and began to brave the waters even more; this was new territory for you that you were now forcing yourself to become familiar with for the rest of the night.

"no, it's okay. i'll stay- i kinda don't wanna be alone," you half-lied.

he put his hand on your shoulder reassuringly, "are you sure?"

"yeah," you sipped the vodka cranberry out of your red solo cup, "i'm sure.

"well," he began to give you a hug with his back facing the front entrance, "if you do wanna leave, tell me."

you hugged him back, "i will. thanks, rey."

unwrapping his arms from you, he walked in the direction of the party as you still stood near the entrance. however, you soon realized that his body was blocking the very sight you tried your best to avoid; hamzah was standing right in front of the doorway, dressed in one of the outfits that made you weak. standing with his friends, his hard expression fixated on you as he realized that some other guy was on you the way that he was. you locked eye contact, sensing the tense gaze he scorned towards you. you decided that it was time to go to the bathroom.

sitting on the cold tile for about twenty minutes helped ground you to the reality of your situation. you came to this party hoping to escape the emotions that he made you feel after basking and bathing in them for the past three weeks, however, the same guy appeared right in front of you at the worst time possible. you could go one of two ways: go bother rey and make him drive thirty minutes to and back from your house just to drop you off, or to stay in the bathroom.

considering that someone knocked on the bathroom door as you were pondering, you decided to choose neither of the options and chose a secret, third one: to stay so that rey can enjoy his night.

leaving the bathroom into a relatively empty hallway, you felt an odd stare as you walked past a tall man holding a beer in his hand. you heard and felt his heavy footsteps right behind you, trailing after you in the dark area. you started to walk quicker towards the end of the hallway, reaching the entrance to it that led to the living room where a couple of groups of people were.

"where are you going, pretty lady?" you heard from behind you.

you ignored him, finding his remarks uncomfortable and weird.

you felt his breath on your neck, "y'know, it's rude to ignore a man who's interested in you."

"leave me alone," you sternly demanded.

"what, are you a fucking prude or something?" he asked, grabbing your wrist.

"what the fuck? let go of me, now," you warned as his grip on you tightened, causing your heart to drop all the way to your bladder.

suddenly, he was being pulled off of you and pounded into by someone's fists so fast that it could possibly beat the speed of light; you could tell by the way that the figure punched that it was hamzah. you didn't even see him in the room before he was on the floor with the man from the hallway. you stood there, motionless with worry for hamzah's physical being, as people attempted to intervene and pull hamzah off of him. you watched as hamzah was pried off of him by martin, scolding him and asking him what he was doing. luckily, the man simply left the area and hamzah went into the bathroom, alone.

luckily, the room went back to the usual conversations relatively quick, since it lasted a couple of punches thrown in by hamzah; in addition, a couple of people were staring at you as you yelled at him to let go of your arm. you didn't know how to feel. what if he didn't get him off of you? would you have gotten assaulted? or even worse? however, those thoughts also simultaneously existed with thoughts of how hamzah got there so quick and why he just pummeled a guy into the floor, even after you two weren't on good terms. nevertheless, you went against your goal of avoiding anything hamzah-related and walked to the bathroom.

knocking on the door, he took a minute to turn the knob. he saw you in front of him and gazed at you with an expression that you haven't seen on him before; a mixture of everything felt tonight and, possibly, for the past three weeks. you got a good look at how his eyebags were more protruded as if the skin had a second layer. his eyebags mixed with the lilac and ruby shades mixed in led you to believe that he was struggling to sleep; it was as if you were looking at a mirror.

"can i come in?" you asked.

though you realize that this is stunting your ability to heal, his voice was comforting, "yeah, sure."

he sat down on the closed toilet, as you sat down on the rim of the bathtub besides it. he stared at his hand, bruises and redness already forming on his knuckles, as well as an open gash on his ring finger. you got up from the bathtub rim and crouched over to the cabinet below the sink, watching his eyes linger onto you as you searched for something to clean out his would and wrap it. taking out a roll of bandage and wound cleaner, you sat back down. you gently took his hand in yours and began to clean his wound.

"this might hurt," you mumbled.

you squeezed the wound cleaner as he winced, a sour expression with his eyebrows scrunched on his face apparent. you began to wrap his hand, trying your best to be as gentle as possible. you still felt his eyes on you, like you were a puppet performing in front of an audience.

you broke the silence, "are you drunk?"

"what?"

"y'know, have you drank anything since you got here."

"oh- no, no i haven't."

you ripped the end of the bandage off, attempting to tie it onto his hand, "so, you beat his ass completely sober?"

he chuckled, "yeah."

"it was stupid."

he gave you a look of disbelief, "what?"

"hamzah, you could've hurt yourself! what if he had a knife on him or a gun or just something-"

"you're telling me that i'm stupid for getting a guy, who was clearly making you uncomfortable, off of you?"

you sighed, "no, hamzah, you're not stupid. i'm saying that your actions were stupid because you could've gotten seriously hurt and i don't want to be the reason you're in the hospital. i don't want you to get hurt at all."

"well, would he have done it?"

puzzled, you tilted your head to the side, "who?"

"the- fuckin- the guy you were with- him- would he have done this for you?"

a chuckle of disbelief escaped from your throat, "why does that matter?"

"i saw him hugging you and shit, he should've done what i did- where was he when you needed him? why'd he let you go to the bathroom by yourself?"

"why does it matter if he was hugging me, hamzah? why does it matter if he left me alone?"

"because if you're gonna replace me with him, he has to be better than me!" his voice got slightly louder, causing you to jump, "fuck- if we're not together anymore, you have to find someone that could take care of you as well as i did or even better."

your eyes squinted with annoyance, "hamzah, you literally just said that we were just friends. what are you talking about 'we're not together anymore?' you were the one who said that we weren't ever together."

"i fucking lied, okay? i lied. i fucking lied to you because i can't handle the fact that you wanted more and i- i just- i can't be enough for you," he rushed as the information in his head that he wanted to let out was twice as fast as his words, "i wanted more too. fuck, i wanted more so fucking bad- you don't get it, but i'd be selfish if i just took you all for myself even if i couldn't give you everything that you deserve."

emotions began to implode within your chest, "are you serious? you could've fucking tried or, better yet, you could've just talked to me, hamzah! genuinely, what the hell are you even talking about with that 'i couldn't give you everything' shit. i don't want everything, i just wanted you."

your breathing became heavier as tears began to flow out of your eyes once more, mirroring the scene at your apartment that lead to this very encounter. though you laid in bed for three weeks, you didn't cry once, not ever since the time you last cried in front of him. every single fear was running rampant in your head from speaking to him with such vulnerability. yet, you soon realized that there was no point of holding back. he was already watching you intently and listening to every single word you were saying, gazing at you with longing eyes that yearned the longer you were sat in the bathroom. there was no turning back now, so you decided to tell him everything that you've been feeling and thinking in the past three weeks of agonizing heartbreak with one, singular sentence. with breaths heavy within your chest and tears now streaming down your face, you let go.

"hamzah, i just want you."

in that moment, hamzah saw the heartbreak in personified, human form. he watched you crumple apart in front of him like balls of paper about to be thrown into a trash can. hamzah went into the situationship with the thought that it would be the best possible outcome; the outcome where there's no mess to clean up, nor promises to keep, nor expectations to maintain. the situationship was, in his eyes, a way to keep you both from being hurt. knowing that his very intention was to not hurt you at all, as he watched you crying your eyes out in front of him, finally caused the the realization that he was supporting the very cause he was against.

hamzah didn't know what to do, yet, he knew he had to make this right for the sake of you, him, and the connection between you two.

hamzah lifted you up onto his lap, unsure and hesitant, watching your reaction to his actions. watching the tears on your face slowly stop sliding down and your breathing get slightly lighter, he believed it was okay. he wiped your face with his thumbs with such gentleness to it; in hamzah's mind, he has broken you down to the point where there's cracks in your skin, so he was trying his best not to shatter you completely. after gazing at your eyes with a sympathetic, longing, and apologetic stare, he gently brought your face closer towards his. he closed the gap between you guys' lips, a wave of nostalgia and comfort overtaking the vulnerability that was just in the room. over time, the kiss got more desperate and aching. your lips chased after each other as your tongues moves synchronously with the same feelings of past despair and hopelessness. your hands were roaming up and down each other's bodies as if it was meant to be explored by each other; as if you were both artifacts meant to be excavated. it lasted fifteen minutes; the passion radiated from you guys' bodies even after you stopped kissing to breathe. hamzah was the first to speak.

"i know you came here with a date, but i can't take it anymore. i need you in my life, baby, i need you back and i need you back now. the past couple weeks i haven't been sleeping or eating or doing anything besides just sitting there and realizing that i'm a fucking idiot. i never liked the girl that i was on the phone with and i blocked her right after i left your place, that night. i don't even know what i was doing and i shouldn't have even picked up in the first place- i should have never said we were just friends. i was lying. i was a fucking liar and you can do whatever you want to make me pay for that. you can slap me as hard as you can or burn my hoodies or anything, baby, just-please forgive me, i'm sorry. i'll do anything to have you back in my life-"

you cut him off with a slow, gentle, and lingering kiss, once again. pulling away, he admired you like he was in a trance that he wasn't willing to be broken out of.

"i'm not dating rey. he's here with another guy."

hamzah looked puzzled as he rubbed loving circles onto your thighs, "what?"

"he's gay."

"thank fucking god," he let out a sigh of relief, "i think i felt my heart genuinely shatter when i walked in on him hugging you."

you laughed, "you were that hurt over it?"

"of course i'd be. it's you."

"yeah, yeah, don't flatter me," you teased.

hamzah's expressione turned serious once again, "baby, please come back to me. i'll make it all up to you if you let me, i promise. i don't care how long it takes or what i'll have to do. let me prove to you that i can take care of you."

your expression also became serious, "it depends. are you taking care of me as my idiot neighbor who occasionally comes over to do things that friends don't do?"

you asked the question expecting him to answer that he'll do better than that, however, he surprised you once again.

he took your hand and kissed it, "no, i'll take care of you as your boyfriend, if you'll let me."

authors note!

hi guys this is so late i am going to bed goodnight!

#hamzah fic #hamzah imagines #hamzah x reader #hamzahthefantastic #slushy noobz #hamzah x y/n #hamzahthefanatasticxreader #hamzah fluff

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rin-sith · 4 months ago

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This came to me earlier, and now I am utterly obsessed: While it was clear to me that Odysseus stabbing Poseidon wasn't any kind of Vengeance, there was one act of Vengeance after all, even if inadvertent—it was Odysseus disproving Poseidon's "Ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves" belief right in front of his very eyes. With him as the subject, even.

Think about it—the fact that Poseidon remained ruthless and insisted on punishing Odysseus was the only reason he got stabbed repeatedly. If Poseidon had been merciful, if he had accepted Odysseus' offer of forgiveness, he would've been fine. His own ruthlessness backfired so hard on him this time that I am sincerely hoping it haunts him forever.

I am actually utterly obsessed with Poseidon thinking back to Odysseus "Maybe you could learn to forgive?" on a daily, no an hourly basis. I cannot and will not lie to you that is unironically my favorite moment in the whole Vengeance saga just because of what it says about both the characters—about Odysseus for offering and Poseidon for declining (and also because Odysseus sings it in Poseidon's own motif which is just absolutely brilliant.) And this makes me love it even more.

Poseidon was going to decline, we all know that. I don't think anyone watching—even Odysseus, probably—expected him to accept. But then I'm picturing him lying there, bleeding into the stone, and, against his will, wondering whether maybe he should have. Maybe if he had, he wouldn't be in pain. Maybe if he had not killed Odysseus' fleet ten years ago, he wouldn't be in pain either. Maybe this one time ruthlessness wasn't mercy upon himself—maybe this time, his one grand belief was wrong. Maybe ... it was always wrong.

Obviously, he would never admit to these thoughts, he would slap himself for having them one second later. But I simply need this self-proclaimed god of ruthlessness to be utterly haunted by that and question whether he made the right choice or no—whether he's even lived by the correct philosophy all his immortal life—and no matter what, be too stubborn to admit he was wrong.

He's trying to pretend like nothing changed, but the thoughts still remain. They pester him. They won't leave him alone. Especially every time someone—anyone—is kind to him for whatever reason, they come crashing back into him and they won't leave.

"What if my own ruthlessness hurt me that time?"

"What if ruthlessness isn't mercy upon ourselves after all?"

"What if I'm wrong?"

"What if I have always been wrong?"

The most dreadful thoughts imaginable to a god as proud and stubborn and old as Poseidon, but they're there now and he can't do anything about them. You all don't understand how much I NEED this god to jolt up in his bed at 3 am after having a dream or nightmare about something related to one of his many ruthless deeds (maybe even sinking Odysseus' fleet) and go "BUT WHAT IF I HAD LEARNED TO FORGIVE?? WHAT IF I STILL COULD??" only to immediately slap himself for it because that's absolutely ridiculous.

He is left to watch this belief shatter before his very eyes as he's clinging to the remains of it desperately, trying to keep it all from crumbling. Not because he genuinely believes he's right anymore, but because he simply cannot imagine ... does not know how to live by any other philosophy.

No matter whether it's objectively correct or not, it's the very thing that defines him. The thing he's known for. He has built his entire image around this, he cannot give it up no matter what ... at least not quickly or without help.

But as much he would seek to deny it, his core belief has now been proven wrong; he has actually lived through an instance where it was wrong, and he can do nothing to erase those memories or conclusions from his mind no matter how much he yearns to go back to simpler times.

And that was the real Vengeance, guys—possibly the biggest, most painful existential crisis of Poseidon's immortal life. I rest my case.

Although before I disappear back into the void I simply must give a shout out to @o3o-lapd-o3o (this came to me during a conversation in one of their comment sections for the glorious Friends In Higher Places AU, which is quite possibly my favorite piece of EPIC fan content that exists ...)

#poseidon epic #epic the musical #epic musical #epic the vengeance saga #epic odysseus #poseidon #jorge rivera herrans #i have never believed in ruthlessness is mercy #but thank you so much odysseus for proving me right #with ruthlessness of your own #how very poetic #poseidon having an existential crisis over being too stubborn for redemption is sth i didnt know i needed #i wanna believe he gets there eventually #a few centuries later #odysseus has no idea what he did btw #he stabbed poseidon and that was that #he probably didnt think he could so much as make him question this #someone somewhere out there eventually notices maybe #HAVE I MENTIONED HOW OBSESSED I AM WITH ODYSSEUS' “MAYBE YOU COULD LEARN TO FORGIVE?” YET #because I AM #that god killed your whole fleet #thunder saga!odysseus would not have offered this #i love the subtle hints at odysseus' positive development in this saga almost more than anything #the only thing I don't love about them is that they're so subtle a majority of people don't notice them #friends in higher places au?#am i allowed to tag this as that ouo #epicssay

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tgsilcosynxbelu3 · 6 months ago

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hannibal has a god complex. definitely. he loves having people beg for his help - it feels powerful. he’s so pathetically desperate when it comes to will though. he puts will in situations where only he can help will out; he purposefully isolates will from other people in his life to further monopolize him. hannibal is so bent on making will needs him that when will left, he panicked. he did everything to pull will to him again, sacrificing his freedom in the process. in the last half of the 3rd season, he was so desperate for control. so when he finally had will say “please”, he was overjoyed. he was of use again. he knew he was being use, and that’s how he gets will to be by his side again. will knows that. he asks hannibal for help knowing that hannibal wants will to use him. in a way, that’s his way of reciprocating hannibal’s affection. he allows hannibal to be needed again. and hannibal also knows that will knows that, so he’s even happier that will’s using him for both of their sakes. and obviously will knows that hannibal knows that he knows too, so it's just a full circle using one another for both of them - they're conjoined.

oh to worship and to be worshipped, when god yearns for the lamb to come to him and asks for help, when he yearns to bestow, when he yearns to be used just as long as he’s remembered. and that's how the lamb comes into power, for it isn't a sacrifice but the proof of god's purpose. oh how the table turns. gosh they’re so tragically in love i’m sick to my stomach

#it's almost 3 am and i have to get this off my chest #i love them so much #hannibal #hannigram #hannibal nbc

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myjisung · 7 months ago

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crushing with han !

content. stray kids han, headcanons, gn!reader — fluff.

warning. none

wordcount. 500

a/n. after the love language and kisses series, here comes the crushing series! i will tell you all about how skz acts when they have a crush ( headcanons, they're all my opinion. feel free to disagree, obviously ). tell me who you would like to read about next in this series :o) i missed this account so badly... i hope to be active in the coming weeks! ♥︎

WOULD HE CRUSH FIRST ?

han is the type to start developing feelings the moment he sees that someone expresses romantic interest towards him. yes, he does sometimes admire people from afar and wonders about them but for a real crush to form, he needs the push of someone being interested first. so no, not really. you would most likely be crushing on han first.

HOW HE WOULD ACT.

when han has a crush, it can go two very distinct ways:

either he is crazily obvious about it. han would be blushing the second you walk into the room and giggle uncontrollably at his own clumsiness. he would trip over his words, second guess every answer he gives to your questions and tickle the back of his neck when deep in thought. his friends would be no help at all, staring at him from the other side of the room trying to make him realize that you can see right through him. but sadly for han, he simply cannot help it.

or, he would simply not even look your way. it comes from a place of deep anxiety more than one of trying to look cool. han is too aware of your presence and the way it makes him feel. so much so that he would rather be distant and not look like he cares deeply though it is counter productive. he would ( try to ) keep his cool, laugh nonchalantly at your jokes and look your way when your back is turned. in a few words ; han would care for you in concealed ways.

WOULD HE MAKE THE FIRST MOVE ?

not really. he might if you were dancing around each other for months. han would lose patience then and get over his fear of rejection to try and ask you out.

he would much rather you ask him out or raise the question of what you both were after a few exclusive hangouts. han would not be able to live through the embarrassment of being rejected though he is mature enough to take it. he is rather afraid he would pressure you into saying yes to dating him just because he put you on the spot.

but if it can be any motivation: if you were to ask him out, han would give you one of his biggest heart-shaped smiles. all teeth and adoration.

MISCELLANEOUS.

han is quite a big fan of crushing, if that makes any sense. he feels inspired to create when he grows to know and like someone more as days go by.

he is one to romanticize the entire process of forming a crush / a connection to someone new. which is why he lets the whole 'crushing period' go on for as long as he can. of course he yearns for a relationship, but there is just something so sweet and innocent about dancing around each other. the stolen glances, the shy smiles, fingers brushing against each other's when walking side by side or the jitters he feels everytime he texts you ; han loves it all.

the type to be exclusive when crushing or casual dating. han gives his undivided attention to one person at a time.

taglist. @aeinzzzketchup — let me know if you would like to be added / removed.

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shaunamilfman · 4 months ago

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the ghost you dressed up as [4]

pairing: Jackie Taylor x Shauna Shipman x reader summary: "What do you do when you find out your best friends have sort of, kind of, been killing people in your name? Probably not what you're about to do." note: there's def a knife involved 🥰 masterlist

The table was awkwardly quiet, full of the teammates that happened to share the same lunch period as you. The group of you have been sitting around and hoping someone else will take the initiative to finally start talking. There had been a few abandoned attempts and side conversations, but for the most part it felt like your table was isolated from the rest of the cafeteria.

You certainly aren’t helping: caught between sneaking glances at Shauna and staring down at your tray to avoid Jackie’s irritated stare. Shauna was tearing apart her food into little pieces, obviously more interested in destroying it than actually eating anything. You felt much the same: the idea of eating right now was enough to make you sick. It wasn't even what you had witnessed this weekend that was really getting to you. Rather, it was your own reaction that concerned you.

The way you hadn't run when you should have, watching wide-eyed as Shauna tore that girl apart. How quick you were to accept it, leaning back into Jackie's reassuring touch like it was nothing. Why you hadn't screamed, why you hadn't asked them to stop. All of it kept running through your head on loop–and that wasn't even taking the way Shauna had looked into consideration. Staring up at you with wild eyes, almost feral. Blood soaked and trembling in excitement, each breath heavy and ragged as she finally caught it.

Suffice to say that you've had a lot on your mind recently.

The gathering was something of a show of support after what had gone down this weekend at the party. Another murder so soon after the last brought back the suspicion from before that you had foolishly thought you'd escaped from. You appreciated the attempt, as strange and awkward as it felt. You've never known any of them to be silent for any period of time, so it really goes to show how close to home it was hitting.

Still, the silence was beginning to grow unbearable. It was unnerving seeing a group of girls, usually so loud and jovial, so quiet and subdued. No jokes, no insults, no gossip spreading like wildfires. Just the oppressive nothingness stretching on for what felt like forever, but had to have been less than thirty minutes.

You can still feel Jackie's eyes drilling a hole into your head. Knowing that, she at least, would have something to say to you if you were alone wasn't as much of a comfort as you hoped. What would you even say to her after what they did? After what you didn't do?

Even if you hadn't ended up going home with them, a part of you had so desperately wanted to. That part of you still yearns for their company, for the security you feel laying between them on Jackie's too-small mattress. But how could you? Knowing what they did, what they're presumably still going to do.

We did this for you.

Normal people would be afraid for their lives knowing what you know and not saying anything about it, but as irrational as it sounds to think even in your mind, you don't feel like you're in any real danger. Not from Shauna, and certainly not from Jackie. You've seen what they're capable of, the kind of dangers that's inherent in their every action. But you don't worry about that danger spilling over to you, even if you should. You feel oddly protected, as unsettling as the thought sounds.

That might be the most terrifying part.

You know that it's only a matter of time before you end up back between them, Shauna's guiding hand on your shoulder as Jackie pulls you by the wrist. You'll go willingly, won't you? They won't even have to ask, not with words anyhow. You so desperately need time to sort yourself out, to figure out your feelings on the matter without two pretty girls looking over your shoulder and whispering in your ears, but the way Jackie keeps looking at you clues you in that time is running out.

Jackie's glare had only gotten more pointed and impatient as the day went on. She did, after all, give you 36 whole hours to come to terms with the fact that they had been committing all the murders that you yourself have been suspected of. Generous, right? In Jackie's mind, at least. You could almost hear her now, complaining about how ungrateful you're being in that petulant whine she always keeps in her back pocket for when Shauna doesn't give her something she wants. It was, of course, devastatingly effective, even in your imagination.

You really ought to get out more.

She's never been very good at waiting, an impatient go-getter by nature. Jackie was always the first to want to talk things out; even the smallest little disagreement had to be worked out in the moment, or she'd work herself up catastrophizing about it. You'd seen it too many times to name, watching as she ran scenarios over and over again in her head till she convinced herself you hated her because you wanted to finish an assignment at the library.

Shauna's much the same way. Not in the way of communication, as any conversation with her about emotions could feel like talking to a brick wall unless she was feeling something strongly, but she has a way of blowing things way out of proportion if she’s given time to stew in her feelings. The two of them together were awful, feeding off of each other's energies until it became apocalyptic.

So you knew, with the same feeling of dread that kept you awake at night staring at the blurred blades of your ceiling fan, that if you didn't approach them soon, they would find you. And when it came down to that, you probably wouldn't enjoy the consequences. Neither of them are good at letting things just play out naturally, but the second they finally caved in, you know they won't leave you any room to think or to hesitate. You had to make your mind up quickly, though. It wouldn't be long till they ambushed you at your locker, or better yet, just block the door to your car.

It wouldn't be the first time, either. In a moment of pettiness, when you'd insisted on driving yourself to school, Shauna had shown up in your driveway and parked her car behind yours, so you had to let her take you or risk being late. No amount of glaring or complaining changed her mind, just staring back at you from the driver's seat with a smug look on her face, tapping her fingers against the steering wheel as she hummed along to the song playing on the radio. It didn't even seem to bother her that you spent the entire ride to Jackie's house and then school glaring at her in the rear view mirror. If anything, it excited her. That really should have clued you in that–

“So are we going to talk about how she disappeared right around the time that girl got murdered last night?” Mari asks suddenly, her voice cutting through the silence like a gunshot.

You glance up immediately, pulled out of your thoughts quickly enough to leave you a little dizzy. For a second, you just blink at her, almost in shock. The way she stiffened ever so slightly as the words traveled down the table, eyes darting between your other teammates, told you she probably didn't mean it as accusatory as it sounded–more of a bitchy joke to break the silence. It's the kind of thing Mari was known for, an awkward laugh after saying something just a touch too mean for the situation. Sometimes she meant it, more often than not, but it's obvious it's already snowballed into something out of her control. The glances shared between your teammates that quickly turn into defensive glares at Mari's expense. You would almost feel bad for her if it wasn't at your expense.

Mari's half-hearted smile falters at the looks, a tension gathering in her shoulders as she realizes how carelessly she's crossed a line. She's tense as she waits for the fallout, stiffly holding her head up high. There's no attempt at an apology; you knew better than to expect one, but she shrugs her shoulders as if to say, Oops. It's too late now anyway, and you wouldn't have appreciated any attempt she made to make one. You can almost respect her for it–at least she's not pretending.

Still, the damage is done. You sling your bag over your shoulder as you stand up, hoping it looks more like a strategic retreat than the storm-off it really is. You get enough of it from everybody else; the last thing you want is to have to answer those questions during lunch too.

It's enough for Shauna to hold off on what was likely about to be a scathing retort, her hand already tensed into a fist you're sure was about to meet Mari's nose. Her eyes narrow on you instead, following you as you gather your things until she abruptly stands up to join you. Her chair scrapes loudly against the floor, drawing attention from nearby tables until the sight of her glare was enough to have them looking back at their own lunch. Jackie follows just a step behind as she hurries to catch up–never one to be left out.

You can barely hear Nat's wry comment of, “Didn't you notice that Jackie and Shauna had also disappeared last night?” Her tone is thick with a mocking lilt of sarcasm as she stares Mari down, the implication obvious for anyone capable of reading between the lines.

There's a knowing laugh shared between Tai and Van that has you speeding up in your haste to get out of there. Your face burns as you walk out of earshot, but if that's what they want to believe happened–that you were sneaking around to hook up with Jackie and Shauna–it was certainly better than thinking you'd witnessed a murder. It would've been your preferred way to spend Saturday night, anyhow.

Even with that thought in your mind, you couldn't help but enjoy the familiar feeling of comfort you get at their presence behind you. They aren't following you out of habit, you know, just another attempt at tethering themselves to you. No matter how far you tried to run, they'd be right behind you, waiting.

You appreciate that they don't attempt to talk to you along the way, the silence more comforting than it had been in the cafeteria. They cling close enough to your shadow that there's no real need for words to be exchanged anyway. Shauna's frustration, Jackie's impatience, all of it echoed in their footsteps.

“Not today,” you say firmly, turning around to look at them. Shauna almost bumps into you with the suddenness of your turn, but just barely manages to take a step back. Jackie runs straight into Shauna, of course.

Jackie opens her mouth, indignant, before sharing a look with Shauna and then nodding sullenly.

“Fine,” she agrees reluctantly, her arms crossing over her chest. “Not today.”

You smile at them, knowing that you should probably know better than to take them at their word. Their compliance was only ever temporary, you were sure.

…

You don't run as your window slowly cracks open. You don't even flinch. Half expecting them to show up, you hadn't even bothered to try to go to sleep. It was almost a relief to hear the quiet footfalls against the floor of your room after you'd spent the last several hours switching between staring at the wall, your ceiling, and your alarm clock.

There's no need to look even as you hear a second set of footsteps against the floor and then the quiet squeaking of your window closing. You start to sit up as the bed creaks in protest beneath someone's weight, but quickly find yourself pressed flat against the mattress with a knife to your throat.

Shauna's hand is steady as she holds the blade right against your skin, fingers gripping the hilt with a white-knuckled confidence that makes you shiver, the sharp edges so close you're almost afraid to breathe too heavily in fear of cutting yourself. She swings one leg over your hip, settling her weight on top of you to keep you pinned beneath her. The position is reminiscent of the one you'd seen her take with Tatum, but this time you feel none of the fear and betrayal you felt before. No, it's something else entirely different that you feel in the pit of your stomach at the sight.

Something you don't care to name.

The weight on top of you is calming, almost familiar. You've found yourself in this position at least a dozen times, but never with her knife involved. The heat of her body against yours contrasts so well with cold steel pressing against your neck. You wonder idly if it's the same one she's used on all her victims. Some part of you hopes it is. You want to ask, to have her explain every gory detail to you as she holds you hostage in your own bed, but mostly you just want her.

You reach up for Shauna's hips–not to stop her or push her away, just to touch–but your hands are swatted away with a click of Jackie's tongue.

“Ah, ah,” Jackie murmurs in that same patronizing tone you'd chide a misbehaving child in.

She holds your hands down against your stomach as she sits cross-legged next to you on the bed, looking far too interested in the scene in front of her. You're sure you could break your hands away with fairly little effort, she was barely holding on tightly enough to discolor the skin, but you couldn't afford the movement with the knife pressed so close to your throat.

“You get to listen now,” Jackie says, squeezing one of your hands. “We let you do all the talking before.” The words hang in the air for a moment, a gentle reminder of the situation.

Her thumb traces idle circles against the skin of your hands, her index finger brushing purposefully against the sliver of skin showing where your shirt was pulled up. You normally would've let her play it off like an accident, like her hand just slipped, but you don't think either of you are in the mood for that game tonight.

Your eyes narrow slightly, an undeniable frustration rising at her words. You hadn't talked at all. But you're smart enough to just swallow the accusation, nodding as much as you can manage without nicking yourself. Shauna looks pleased at the response, shifting on her knees to get a better view as she stares down at your face. Her eyes, inevitably, flick back and forth between yours and where the blade is pressed against you. She seems fascinated by the sight.

“Don't look at her,” Shauna says, irritation clear in the bite of her fingers into your chin as she turns your head to look up at her. Her fingertips press into your cheek as she cups your face, her hand hovering just above the knife she's holding to your throat. You'd been looking at Jackie as she spoke, attention naturally pulled toward her, and it's clear that Shauna hasn't appreciated that at all. Shauna doesn't like fighting for your attention at the best of times, let alone while she's sitting on top of you. It never took much to set Shauna off when Jackie was involved, especially if it involved your attention.

You feel a strange urge to sigh, yet again put in the middle of one of their little spats. Jackie sighs, a disappointed sound that's barely audible but is enough to make Shauna shift uncomfortably on top of you. Her head turns to look at Jackie, eyes wide with frustration or guilt or something else entirely, the corners of her lips downturned as she tries to think of something to say. The knife seems almost forgotten in the exchange.

Jackie doesn't say anything, her presence more of a shadow next to you at the very edge of your vision. You can still feel her there, hand resting against your stomach and still stroking your hand in slow, deliberate circles. Something is exchanged between them in that moment of silence, some quiet communication that has always left you confused and more than a little jealous.

“Eyes on me,” Shauna demands again, even though your eyes hadn't left her side profile. It's not quite a threat, but it could be. It's always a possibility with her. She's still not looking at you, staring over at Jackie in a way that has you dangerously curious. You don't dare to look at Jackie, not wanting Shauna to think you weren't completely hers while she battles her own jealousy.

“Don't hurt her,” Jackie finally says, sounding almost amused at Shauna's power play. It's nothing new with Shauna, always one to push and push to see how far she could toe that line. Shauna's expression has softened now that she looks back down at you, but there's still an intensity there that makes it impossible to draw your eyes away even if she hadn't told you not to.

She's satisfied for the moment, your undivided attention won at least briefly. “You're not going to scream?” She questions, almost unsure if that disappoints her or excites her. The way she looks at you makes you wonder how she'd react if she heard your voice break beneath her.

“You'd like that, wouldn't you?” You mutter, your voice a little hoarse but undeniably challenging. It's not a question, but an accusation. There's a flicker of something in her eyes, her lips finally twitching into a smile. She's decided, then: it excites her. Shauna doesn't reply right away, her fingers gripping the knife tighter as she leans down closer to you. You wonder if she's going to press down harder, breathless at the thought of her cutting into you with the same skill she'd used to to carve all those people up.

“Maybe,” she acknowledges. “I think I might like you like this more, though.”

Jackie's watching carefully even as she projects an air of nonchalance, eyes lingering where the knife has begun to bite into your skin. Her breath hitches as she catches sight of the bead of blood traveling along the edge of the blade.

“Shauna,” Jackie warns, voice cutting through the tension between you. Shauna rolls her eyes, pulling the knife just far enough from your skin to placate Jackie. It's barely an inch, but it's enough to get Jackie to relax back against the mattress. There's a huff, like Jackie's caution was completely unnecessary. Her eyes trace down your skin, following the faint red stain left on your skin before it disappears beneath the collar of your shirt.

She shares another look with Jackie before, with absolutely no warning, she leans down to kiss you. You let out a surprised noise but eagerly move to reciprocate. The knife bites back into your skin, Shauna using the closeness between your chests to hide the movement. You almost laugh, and you would've if not for the way the sound was lost in your throat, drowned out by the possessive way she kisses you.

Jackie's eyes are still locked on you, even if she manages to miss the knife in favor of watching your lips move against Shauna's. She shifts closer, her fingers flexing against your stomach as she pulls her from between your bodies to brush Shauna's hair over her shoulder for a better view. She moves slowly, so utterly unhurried, like she's savoring each and every moment.

Though Jackie's fingers don't physically touch the blade, her hand lingers close enough on your neck that Shauna finally removes herself from you long enough to drop it in the vague direction of your nightstand. It's obvious Shauna intends to take her place back, but Jackie doesn't give her the chance as she turns your head to capture your lips instead.

Shauna lets out a groan, pinching at Jackie's arm before she turns her attention to your neck instead. No one can say that Shauna Shipman isn't adaptable. She's gentle at first as her lips meet the soft skin of your neck, teasing with deliberate kisses that quickly turn into bites as she zeros in on the trail of blood still marking your neck. Her touch is more aggressive now, teeth dragging along your skin to mark you in a way that Jackie can't.

Jackie rests a hand lightly on your cheek, keeping you focused on her as Shauna's lips trail along the collar of your shirt. Despite her apparent gentleness, her desire makes her somehow more dangerous for it, teeth grazing against your skin as she tries desperately to get closer. Her eagerness makes her endearingly sloppy, clearly struggling to keep up with the almost methodical way Shauna moves. Frustration manifests in the way Jackie's hands are everywhere and nowhere, like she can't make her mind up about where she wants to put them. She's always wanted everything at once, unable to decide between a need for restraint or her desire to indulge. If you were more cognizant at this moment, it wouldn't have surprised you to feel her hands darting across your body as she shifted impatiently at your side.

For the first time tonight, she seems to get a little peeved at the way Shauna's been hogging you, pushing lightly at her shoulders to get her to move over a little. A move that backfires as Shauna bites down on your shoulder in retaliation, causing you to finally push both of them away with an annoyed cry. You reacted instinctively, sending both of them away with more force than was necessary.

“Enough,” you mutter, frustrated at being made a competition.

Jackie looks over at you with wide-eyed surprise as she sits back on her heels, lips parted like she can't believe you actually pushed her–like she's the victim somehow. Shauna looks terribly pleased as she has to catch herself with her hand to stop from toppling off the bed entirely. The rooms quiet for a bit as you rub at your shoulder, annoyed as you glance between them. Shauna seems insufferably smug about the whole situation, not even bothering to hide her amusement as she watches you.

Jackie, on the other hand, seems genuinely upset as she glares over at Shauna. Shauna pulls herself out of her moment of triumph to return it equally as seriously. You almost have to laugh at the sight of their mused hair and flushed faces as they stare the other down, both clearly refusing to accept fault. It's so completely childish the way they both stubbornly refuse to let go, and you smile at the thought of a little Jackie and Shauna doing the same thing on the playground as children.

Neither of them seem truly upset at the whole thing, tension softening as Shauna rolls her eyes and looks away. She quickly leans forward to press one last kiss against your neck before flopping down on the bed next to you. Jackie's still a little sulky, fingers trailing across your skin to try to soothe the marks Shauna left before resting her hands back in her lap.

“I thought I asked you not to do this today,” You accuse mildly, grinning playfully to break Jackie's quiet irritation.

“It's midnight,” Jackie defends with a pout, grabbing your hand and lacing your fingers together. She squeezes your hand gently, as if trying to make up for earlier. “It's a different day, see?”

“Is that right?”

“That's generally how days work, yeah,” Shauna adds dryly. There's a lazy sort of confidence about her, shrugging unrepentantly, unaffected by even your most playful scolding. Shauna starts to reach for the knife again, clearly itching to have it back in her hands, but aborts the movement halfway through after a look from Jackie.

“You freaked out on us Saturday,” Jackie says carefully, trying not to make it sound like the accusation it so obviously was. The frustration lining the statement is easy to pick up on, but the hurt lingering beneath it required someone fluent in Jackie subtleties to pick up on. It's not obvious in her voice or by the set of her lips–it's the way her eyes don't quite meet yours, focused on some insignificant point on your face, or the way her fingers clench just a little tighter around yours. For someone who wears her heart on her sleeve all the time, she's gotten quite skilled at hiding her hurts, a natural deflection hidden behind a seemingly radiant smile.

“Did you think I wouldn't?” You ask, honestly baffled at the thought process behind it.

Jackie hesitates, the corners of her lips twitching into something between a pout and a frown before looking over at Shauna for support. She doesn’t jump in immediately, letting the silence linger on long enough that Jackie starts to squirm before speaking.

“We thought you might have handled it differently,” Shauna says evenly, propping herself up on her elbow.

“Handled it differently? You killed my date–” You stop midsentence, pinching the bridge of your nose. “You know what? I’m not arguing with you about this. You’re insane. You're both insane.”

Shauna, the asshole that she is, doesn’t even flinch at the accusation. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.” The teasing in her voice makes you want to hit something, but knowing her, she would probably enjoy it.

“You didn’t even like her,” Jackie adds, almost daring you to say otherwise. There’s an edge of jealousy underlying it that has you wanting to hear more of it. She’s not wrong, exactly, but the sureness in her voice sends a shiver down your spine. “She left you to go meet someone else anyway.”

“Jackie…” You say slowly. “You know I was going to meet her in the woods to–”

“You didn’t like her,” Shauna interrupts, shaking her head. She gives you a wide-eyed look as she purposely glances at Jackie. You catch the warning: Jackie’s going to lose it.

“...Fine. You’re justifying murder by saying I didn’t like her?”

“She didn’t even appreciate you like we would,” Jackie mutters under her breath, still sulking as she starts to play with your fingers. The action is equally comforting and possessive, like she’s trying to distract you away from the conversation at hand if you would just let her. A pathetic attempt to soften the blow of what they did.

“You were bored,” Shauna says matter-of-factly. “You’re welcome.”

“Well, as long as I was bored,” you mutter under your breath.

“You’re not really upset about Tatum, are you?” Jackie asks as she leans closer. Her voice is warm against your ear, her voice playful as she continues. “Was it the pictures? Shauna promises she's sorry about those pictures she took. She thought you'd like them.”

“What?” You say, flushing at how it comes out as squeak. You glance over at Shauna, eyes narrowing in accusation. “I'd forgotten about that.”

“Nice going, Jax,” Shauna mumbles under her breath. Her fingers twitch, like she still wants that familiar weight of the knife in her palm. She clearly hadn’t been intending on sharing that particular bit of information, and you can see her frustration with Jackie for even bringing it up. Shauna’s always so careful about what she lets people know about her.

You didn’t quite blame her for that–those pictures had been creepy as hell. You would've kept that information to yourself too at this point. The very mention of them fills you with fear for the first time since Saturday. Out of everything that’s happened, those pictures of you just going about your life had been the worst part of it. You were looking over your shoulder for weeks after you first received them, terrified every moment would be your last.

Even after realizing Shauna and Jackie had been behind all the murders, you hadn’t quite put it together that they’d been the ones following you for all that time. If it had been anyone else, you would’ve been horrified beyond belief.

Beyond forgiveness.

But this is Shauna, and you’ve already forgiven worse, haven’t you?

You shift awkwardly, suddenly feeling a little trapped between them. They’d carefully placed themselves on either side of you from the beginning, even before this night, but it’s never felt this oppressive before. Shauna still hasn’t met your eye, though, and you can’t have that. You give a dramatic sigh, something you’d learned from Jackie, before silently offering her what she’s too proud to ask for: your hand.

Shauna’s expression almost immediately goes neutral, her eyes lingering on your hand before lacing your fingers together as if doing you a favor. You’re just glad to see the uncertain look leave her face. It’s almost unsettling to watch how quickly she changes up, but somehow it’s soothing. Familiar. You can never quite predict how Shauna will react to anything with any real certainty.

“She’s so moody. But so are you. Don’t be so grumpy,” Jackie murmurs affectionately, pressing a kiss against your temple. She doesn’t pull away after, resting her head next to yours on the pillow as she starts to play with the ends of your hair. “Steven was an asshole. So was Allie.”

“What about the other ones?” You ask dryly.

You’re not really asking because you want to know, but more out of a sense of obligation you haven’t quite shaken. Casey was your friend at one time. You’d like Tatum enough to agree to go out with her. A normal person would be more upset about that sort of thing, wouldn’t they? But here you are, laying between them and holding Shauna’s hand while Jackie plays with your hair like nothing’s wrong.

Shauna squeezes your hand. A warning. Don’t you remember where your loyalties lie?

“Shauna was jealous,” Jackie whispers against your ear, glancing over at Shauna with a sly smile. Shauna scoffs, low and dismissive, immediately responding to the taunt. Jackie giggles, shifting closer to burying her head further into your shoulder and playfully pressing her lips against your neck. She looks up at Shauna through strands of your hair, her face shining with mischief.

“Shauna was jealous, huh?” Shauna repeats, finally sitting up. “I think Jackie was jealous.”

“Maybe,” Jackie whispers, twirling a strand of your hair idly around her finger. The rhythmic tug and release had been lulling you to sleep since she started. “You’re not innocent either, Shauna.”

She doesn’t seem to care much about the argument, cuddling further into your side as she uses your body as a shield between them. It’s all about needling Shauna, about making her squirm.

“Please,” Shauna starts, clearly intending on winning this argument. Jackie smiles against your skin. “Tatum never stood a chance after you–”

#yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets x you #shauna shipman x reader #jackie taylor x reader

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